This is unbelievable, Tyler thinks to himself, slumping against the cool glass wall of the jar. Not only did Dr. Park’s stupid machine inadvertently shrink him, now she’s leaving him in this fucking jar like a lab specimen on the coffee table while she makes herself dinner. Supposedly the facility she needs to take him to is already closed so he has to spend the night here, but is the jar really necessary? This is dehumanizing. 

The small dishcloth she gave him to cover himself up with is slipping down and he adjusts it, keeping it wrapped around his waist like a bath towel.

The worst part is that she didn’t even seem surprised when it happened. Just gave him the most perfunctory of apologies and then put him in the jar with the dish towel. This must be why she does these appointments at her home clinic. He wonders how many other people have been shrunk as a side effect of that stupid machine. 

He looks up at the opening of the jar. She left the lid off thank goodness but there’s no way he can make it up there and climb out. Even if he did, where the hell would he go? 

“The chicken’s almost done,” she calls from the stove. “I’m gonna cut off a nice chunk for you to eat but you’ll have to just eat with your hands. We don’t have tiny cutlery unfortunately.” 

Did she just chuckle a little bit? Does she think this is funny? Fuck this. He promises himself that when he gets out of this he’s going to sue her for everything she owns. 

“Actually my daughter might have small cutlery in her doll house come to think of it. You remember Abbie? She’ll be home any minute, you should ask her.” 

Oh god. It hadn’t even dawned on him that that fucking brat would be showing up. He’s met her a few times at previous appointments and he’s not looking forward to encountering her like this. 

He hears the front door open and the Abbie’s voice calling out. “Hey mom, I’m home!” 

“Hey honey.” 

“Hey so tomorrow I’m gonna go pick out my grad dress with some of the girls after school, okay?” 

“Okay sure. Hey, Abbie, honey? No crazy afterparties after prom okay? I don’t want a repeat of your behaviour at your eighteenth last month.” 

“Oh my god mom chill, it was like literally fine.” 

She comes into the living room without taking her shoes off, her wedge high heels clip clopping on the hardwood floor as she strolls in, looking at her phone. 

She’s very pretty, intimidatingly so, and walks with a bubbly self-assuredness that makes her presence even more overwhelming. He forgets himself for a moment watching her walk in. She’s wearing a tight pink crop top, short enough that it’s little more than a bra, and a tight black leather skirt with a slit up one side. He can’t help but watch her crossing her incredibly long, smooth legs as she takes a seat on the couch right in front of where his jar is on the coffee table. The skirt is so short that as she’s crossing her legs, he notices with a weird mix of shame and fear that she’s not wearing underwear. 

She’s still looking at her phone. Watching her nervously, he instinctively covers more of himself up with the dish towel. His heart is pounding in his chest and he hates himself for it. This is stupid, he’s a thirty year old man. But despite what he tells himself, her beauty makes her even more terrifying than she already would have been given her size. 

“Honey?” 

“Yeah,” she calls, eyes on her phone. 

“Are you playing with him? Don’t do anything we could get in trouble for, okay? I’m serious, he’s not a toy, he’s a patient.” 

Abbie looks up quizzically. “What? Who…” 

His stomach sinks as her eyes settle on him, her lips slowly curling into a delighted smile. 

There’s a pause. 

“Honey?” 

“Mm hmm?” Abbie responds, already reaching for the jar. 

“Just leave him in the jar, don’t take him out.” 

She puts the jar down heavily in her lap and to him it feels like a falling elevator. His towel falls down and he scrambles to recover it. 

“Ugh, why? It’s fine! I’m not gonna like, hurt him or anything.” She lifts the jar up to her smiling face, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “He’s too cute for that.” 

She slowly lifts the jar to her lips and kisses the glass, leaving a greasy pink lipstick stain. Looking through it at his terrified expression, she winks at him. 

“I’m not going to tell you again!” Her mom calls from the kitchen. “We can’t keep them!” 

Through the glass walls of the jar he watches her enormous smile melt into a pout. “Ugh, like, why! It would like, look better for you anyway. It’s like embarrassing that the machine keeps doing this. We could just pretend he never showed up for his appointment or whatever.” 

She smiles down into the opening of the jar and whispers, “And then you could be my little pet.” 

Her words echo loudly against the glass around him, sending a chill up his spine. That’s it, he’s had enough of this. 

“Put me down you little brat!” he shouts, as loudly as possible. “Dr. Park! Dr. Park!” 

Abbie giggles. “She can’t hear you, silly. Your little voice is just like, too tiny! Super cute though.” 

Horrified, he starts banging on the glass, still shouting. “Dr. Park! Your daughter is…!” 

“I like your little outfit, cutie,” she says. She’s speaking under her breath but to him the sound is huge. “But you know…” She tosses her head to the side. “Yeah I think you’d look better without it.” 

She playfully shakes the jar, tossing him around inside until he can’t hang on to the towel anymore and it slides down. 

“Aww!” she squeals. “Look at you, you’re like, perfect!” 

He scrambles to grab the towel but she’s too quick. 

“Ah ah ah,” she admonishes playfully, turning the jar upside down.

He barely manages to keep from falling out, watching helplessly as his towel slides down the glass walls and out into her lap. 

She keeps holding the jar upside down and shaking it gently. “Don’t you wanna come out and play, little guy?” 

“Just leave me alone!” 

She giggles, allowing him a moment’s rest by turning the jar onto its side in front of her face. She speaks into the opening, her warm breath washing over him and smelling like bubblegum. 

“I’m gonna make you my pet,” she whispers conspiratorially. 

“No you’re not!” he shouts. 

She giggles, putting the jar down onto her lap. He watches her huge fingers absentmindedly stroke the glass, as if she’s petting a little animal. 

“You know, this happens to Mom’s patients like, literally all the time. But she never lets me keep them.” 

“What! I mean…” he stammers. “Why the hell would she!” 

She giggles. “Because little people are adorable! I think it would be like, super fun to keep a little tiny person as a pet.” 

“What the hell! Why!” 

“You… you…” he stammers, unable to find the words through the horror and rage he feels at this little brat. 

She giggles. “I mean like, just look at you! You’re literally like, a living doll! And you’re definitely the cutest one we’ve had.” 

“What would you even…” 

“What will I do with you?” She lowers the jar to her lap and leans back on the couch, toying with her hair as she responds in an infuriatingly casual tone. “Well you know, like, I can dress you up in little dolly clothes, you can paint my toenails while I watch TV, stuff like that.”

He scoffs. “I’m not going to…” 

She cuts him off by lifting the opening of the jar to her face again. He watches her enormous lips with terror as she whispers conspiratorially. “You know I actually have like, this fun game that I play sometimes with my dolls when nobody’s around. I’ve been doing it since I was little.” 

“I don’t care! Just…” She cuts him off easily by shaking the jar until he shuts up, then continues whispering to him. 

“I like to pretend that they’re real live little people trying to get away from me, but then I always catch them. And then guess what?” 

He gulps. 

“Then I punish them for trying to get away from me, by putting them in my panties. Or if they’ve been really bad, I put them in my butt.” She pauses for a moment to let this sink in before continuing. “And I keep them there while I walk around. All day.” 

She leans back again, resuming her casual demeanor. “They always learn their lesson,” she sighs happily. “Are you a fast learner, cutie?” 

He gapes. “I… I…” 

She giggles down at him. Rage swells up in his chest. 

“I don’t want to be your fucking doll! You little brat! Do you hear me? I don’t want…” 

“Aww, you don’t want to?” she giggles. 

“No! I don’t…” 

She casually shakes the jar again, shutting him up. Then she lifts it to her lips again and cheerfully says, “That just makes it more fun, silly!” 

Her phone buzzes and she puts his jar down on her lap to check a text.

Without looking up from her phone, she wedges the jar down between her thighs, right up against her. It slowly becomes dark inside like he’s descending into a cave in a glass elevator, her enormous smooth thighs rising high up around him and her skirt hanging over the jar’s opening. With surreal horror he watches as she wedges the jar right up against her naked pussy. Its visibly moist lips grip the glass like the hungry mouth of some terrifying sea creature that could easily swallow him whole. 

He thinks about what she said earlier, about her dolls. She couldn’t have been serious… Could she? 

Her mother’s voice rings out from the kitchen. “Honey, dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Why don’t you take Tyler up to your dollhouse and see if you can find him some clothes?” 

She looks up from her phone with pleasant surprise and then beams down at him, her eyes gleaming with delight. 

“Great idea, Mom!” 

Before he knows it he’s being shaken carelessly around the jar as she jogs up the stairs to her room. 

She gets down on her knees in front of a mostly pink plastic dollhouse on the floor in front of her closet. 

“Okay little dolly, time to come out!” she says in a sing-song voice. “You ready to play dress-up?” 

Once again she turns the jar upside down, slowly this time, giggling at his scrambling attempt not to slide out into her lap. Inevitably he slips to the edge of the jar and finds himself dangling precariously from its rim. 

“Aww, don’t you wanna come out and play little guy?” she teases. “Do you like my dollhouse? That’s where you’re gonna live from now on.” 

She lifts him up close to her lips and whispers, “At least, when you’re not wiggling around in my panties.” 

He grunts with rage and agony, his arms killing him. “You’re sick! How could you want to use a human being as a… as…” 

“A sex toy?” she offers. She leans back against the bed, taking her time to get comfortable as he strains to hang on. “Well like, I just get so bored in class, you know? I think it’ll be more fun when I have a little guy like you with me, hidden under my skirt. You know, like, kissing me. Licking me… Mmm.” 

She sighs happily. “So yeah, like… that’s where I’ll keep you if you’re a good boy…” 

“What!” he grunts. “I don’t want…”

“Of course, if you’re a bad boy, I’ll have to punish you,” she says, shaking her head with mock sternness. “In which case, instead… I’ll keep you in my butt.” 

He can only manage an enraged grunt in response, his arms slowly giving in. 

“But I already told you about that. The real question is, what am I gonna name you?” 

She bursts into a fit of giggles as he scowls up at her, his face red with exertion. 

“What, you didn’t think I was gonna let you keep your old, boring name did you? Tyler isn’t a good name for a pet. I’m gonna think of something, like, cuter.” 

She lifts him up close to her face. She moves him slowly, careful not to shake him off of the jar. She’s obviously enjoying this little game. He, meanwhile, feels like his arms might rip out of their sockets. 

“This is actually like, really impressive, cutie!” she says. “Aww, and look how sweaty you are! Here, let me help you cool down.” 

He watches with horror as her tongue slowly snakes out from between her lips. 

He shrinks away from her as much as he can as she gently flicks the tip of her tongue against his face. But there’s only so much he can flinch given his extremely compromised position and eventually he has to just grit his teeth and allow her to lick him repeatedly like an ice cream cone. The slimy fleshiness of it is unbearable, her saliva oozing down from his head and drenching most of his body. 

After a while she puts the tip of her tongue under his chin. He’s humiliated to find that she can easily force his chin up with just her tongue, forcing him to look up at her as she giggles down at him, her tongue finally receding into her mouth. 

“I like how you taste, cutie! Maybe I’ll name you like, Candy or something. Ooh, or Lollipop! I dunno, I haven’t decided yet. We’ll see.” 

Yeah we’ll see, you little brat, he fumes internally. When I get out of here I’m suing the fucking ass off of you, your mother, the clinic and…

“Anyway I’m bored of this. Come on, little dolly. Time to play!”

With a casual shake of the jar she dislodges his grip and he falls down into her lap. The smooth skin of her thigh is surprisingly taut and he bounces like it’s a trampoline, flying across to her other thigh and then bouncing back and forth like a pinball all the way down into the ravine between them. 

Once again he finds himself in the warm, humid cavern under her skirt. This time with no glass between him and her. 

“Oopsie!” comes her booming voice from above. He looks up into the crack of light above him, her huge face taking up most of it like the sun above a canyon. 

She giggles down at him. “You like it down there, little pet? Don’t worry, we’ll have lots of time for that later.” 

She reaches down towards him and he cowers instinctively as her tree-trunk fingers wrap gently around him. She lifts him up to her face and opens her hand, smiling as he curls up uncomfortably in her palm. 

“You’re so light!” she says. “I like this.” The pinky of her other hand arrives to gently pet the side of his face. He tries to push her finger away but even with both of his arms, her pinky easily overpowers him. “Oh my god, like, you’re just too adorable!” 

“Stop talking to me like that!” he yells up at her. “I’m not your pet!”

She giggles. “You know what, you’re right, cutie,” she says, playfully tapping him on the nose with a huge fingertip. “Technically you’re not my pet yet…” 

She reaches to the side and slides a cardboard box towards them. With dismay he sees that it’s labeled “Abbie’s Doll Clothes.” 

“But you heard what Mom said. You might not be my pet yet, but you are my little doll! At least until dinner’s ready.” 

“You can’t just…!”

“Time to play dressup, cutie!” 

She starts rifling through the box. 

“Ooh, so many cute outfits to choose from!”