The boy dozed off at some point during the walk. It was not out of boredom, but more of a sedated comfort, whether it was the simple touch of a woman or Paige’s company, it was as if he had just felt peace for the first time in years. 

Keys clinked into a lock followed by the loud creak of a wooden front door. The inside was too dark. His eyes had not yet adjusted. Paige swiftly moved through the dark home and into her bedroom from muscle memory. 

The light felt brighter than it really was; the room was aglow in various pieces of memorabilia, figurines, candles, clothes strewn about haphazardly, comforting feminine scents, band and film posters, cutesy pastel furniture, a large bed with the most plush pillows and blankets he’s ever seen. 

“You’re awake.” 

She seemed to address him so robotically. 

Dante’s body was gently dropped on her desk, in front of her monitors and keyboard. It was RGB with pink keycaps, mechanical but not cherry mx, some Walmart clone, caked in dust and fingerprints. Just like his. 

Coerced into a state of comfort, he began. 

“Your room is really pretty. I always wanted to decorate mine, but I usually just spend my money on Steam stuff. I need to get better at saving, because I think good interior design is worth it. It makes the place so much nicer and comf-” 

“Hey. Shut up for a second.” 

Dante looked up, not used to her aggressive tone. 

“You really think we’re just the bestest of friends now? Did you actually read what you said to me?” 

“But…” 

Dante mistakenly thought this was over with. He wished it was. He started again.

“I thought… I mean you said it was okay, right? I apologized-” 

“No, I said it wasn’t enough. Some punishment is due.” 

A newfound malicious presence seemed to overtake Paige. 

“Let me reread some of your messages to me, in case you forgot.” 

“I didn’t forget…” 

“You didn’t? So you think a quick sorry makes all that okay? No, you’re a piece of shit.” 

The boy was dumb struck. Too much to even speak. He stared, not sure what to say. 

A menacing, smug smile overtook Paige’s face. She took her fingers and plucked Dante up. If a palm to the ground was a welcoming and friendly manner of picking up a tiny, this was the rude, frowned upon one. 

“You think I’d be able to get away with it if I fucked with you in the middle of a tiny sanctuary? All those eyes watching?” 

A familiar distrusting frustration rose out of the once afraid boy. His fears were being validated. That anger that only came out behind computer screens began to materialize itself for the first time in the real world. 

“You really are all the same. You giants have the potential to do good things, but no, you do whatever the fuck you want, killing and taking advantage of tinies because you’re all giant retards. I fucking knew it was too good to be true.” 

A newfound conviction gives Dante confidence. He’d rather go down swinging than begging. 

“Aaaand there it is. I knew you were still racist! I knew you were just putting up a front. Don’t you think if I was like other giants, I would’ve crushed your house with everyone in it?”

“Okay, you had the fucking decency to not kill my whole family, CONGRATULATIONS! Fuck you, do whatever you want. You’re just confirming my beliefs at this point.” 

The boys heart raced again, but instead of an overwhelming fear stricken paralysis, he remained strong. 

“Do you like giant on tiny porn?” 

Dante was taken aback. 

“What? Why the fuck would you ask me that?” 

“Do you?” 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.” 

He turned away, refusing to acknowledge her. 

“You do! Oh my God! You can’t get a giant girlfriend, so you hate them all.” 

“Fuck off. That’s typical giant rationalization bullshit. I hate giants because time and time again, they’ve proven to be rude, inconsiderate, belligerent, obnoxious, and worst of all, stupid as-” 

Dante’s face got smothered in the wet, plush lips of Paige. He was drenched in her lips as they smacked against his body. She dangled him back in front of her face. He was shocked. 

“Do you think I’m pretty? Yes or no?” 

Dante, still shocked, didn’t hear her. 

“What…” 

“Do you like me? Am I attractive to you?” 

She said this already knowing what the answer was. Dante remained stubborn.

“You… look fine, I guess…” 

“Do you think I’m hot?” 

“Yes, okay, you’re attractive, Jesus Christ, are all of you giants so vain?” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

Dante breathed deeply as to steady his heartbeat, still feeling the warm moisture from her mouth.

“It’s my fantasy to forcefully take a tiny that’s been talking shit to me online, and use them for whatever I want. Play with them, enslave them, fuck them, etcetera. Except, that’s really fucked up. I don’t want to actually do that, because that’s really, really wrong. Unless, of course, the other person consents to it.” 

Dante listened, too shy to ask where this was going, but deep down he knew.

“I think it’s hot that you hate giants. I want to belittle, torment, and humiliate you.”

Her face started getting redder as her excitement grew. This only made her more attractive to Dante. Finally, he spoke up. 

“That’s ridiculous. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me. Did you… look through my search history?” 

“Shut up. Say that you’re okay with me doing these things to you.” 

“...and if I don’t?” 

“If you don’t, you can leave. Good luck getting back home. Might take a day or two, being a tiny and all.” 

“You’re really fucked up, you know that?”

“And you’re a racist.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Fuck YOU!” 

They paused for a moment. She bit her lip. Dante’s anger left his face at the sight of her doing that. He wanted everything she described, yet his pride made it impossible to admit. 

As a sort of test, Paige brought her face closer. Dante did not contest. She brought it close enough for Dante to feel the gentle breaths from her nostrils. He was now leaning back on his elbows, looking up in awe. 

His lack of response signaled consent. 

“I don’t hear you protesting.” 

He gave in. 

“Well… I’m not protesting.” 

“You’re a worthless little speck.”

“And you’re a giant cunt.” 

Her eyes closed as her lips descended. He, too, stuck his lips out and closed his eyes, but it was like adding a single grain of salt to a pot of pasta. Her kiss overtook his, licking and sucking on his body like an action figure. 

Backing mere inches from his body, her sensual whispers washed over him.

“I want to drown you in spit. I want you to feel worthless compared to me.”

She consumed his body in a barrage of wet muscles once more. His pajamas were now soaked in this girl’s saliva. He moaned out, too. 

“I’m nothing compared to you… I love this…” 

She let out a moan. His words delighted her. 

As she cupped him with her hands, her dual monitors kicked on from sleep mode. The main screen was an old version of the thread, the latest post of which being his verbal assault. The other monitor was a video on TINIED.com, the thumbnail was a petite half naked woman with tinies occupying her shoulders and breasts. 

Seeing the screens come on thrusted Paige into fight or flight, hand gripping the mouse and clicking the bottom right of the screen as fast as humanly achievable. She saw Dante had been eyeing the screens, beating him to the punch. 

“Shut up… don’t say anything…” 

A turn back to Paige revealed a flushed smile. The thought that Dante’s presence could make a woman feel such a way had not occurred to him. It was revealing into how little he thought of himself. A sense of self so low can make one feel they are an observer of life more than a participant. It can be easy to forget one’s presence matters and affects the physical world. Paige’s face just reflected this. 

Sometimes it’s a look, a one off remark, a joke, a smile, a mutual understanding, that follows that ignition of amorous obsession. For Dante, it was her blush in that one instant, lasting less than a second, eyes squinted and cheeks salmon. 

The funny thing about women is they pick up on these things. Looking down from the screen and back at the small boy on her desk revealed a deepness to Dante formerly unobserved, an intelligence masked behind a rough exterior, a sensitive boy in a man’s suit. The look vanished with a few calculated blinks, as if he had to remind himself to not be vulnerable.

They had both forgotten about the porn on her computer. She questioned.

“What are you thinking about?” 

Throughout the night, Paige’s speech had a sardonic tone, sort of detached and ironic. It was merely a byproduct of being raised online, the world in which everything is a joke and sincerity is mocked. This was the first thing she said that seemed to disregard that culture, coming refreshingly from the heart. It was delicate. 

The funny thing about men is they can, sometimes but not always, pick up on these things. Her new tone sparked intrigue. 

Dante wanted to say he wasn’t thinking of anything. He wasn’t accustomed to this new anxiety, a hopeful anxiety closer to excitement, the thought of telling her the truth seemed exhilarating. 

“Just you.” 

Where did this charisma come from? He even finished it with an endearing smile. 

Paige propped her arm up against her chin. 

“What about me?” 

“You’re just really cool. I’m embarrassed I was so dumb.” 

Paige’s face filled with erotic tension as she brought it down to Dante.

“You sure you still don’t hate giants? That’s a shame. I was hoping to punish you.” 

Her acting was better than the porn Dante was so used to. He played into the game.

“Oh, I hate them. You’re the worst of them all.” 

She bit her lip. In a flash, Dante’s vision and body was covered by her hand. The world became a blur as he was violently tossed around before the cushioned impact of a mattress squeak revealed him to be face to face with Paige, on her bed. She had jumped on it sitting criss cross, dropping him in front of her shaven legs. 

Sensually and slowly her fingers tucked beneath her shorts to peel the sides of her shirt up. Once freed, she gripped either side and rose her hands over her head, shirt following all the while. The skin of her stomach slowly revealed, soft and warm. Dante was dazed, borderline delirious having never experienced a moment so intimate. The only noise was the ruffling of clothes. 

The shirt ascended just above her breasts that were cupped in a blue laced brazere, accented by shaved powdery armpits on either side. There was a miniscule draft of air from her shirt that wafted her dryer sheet scent, this time combined with a sweet and tropical lotion and Degree deodorant, ever so vaguely. 

And finally, her beautiful face was last to be revealed from the other side of the shirt, as it caught her hair and flipped it up. Freed by the shirt, she kept it in a ball. She maintained a smile as she lifted the shirt above the small boy who had been watching the whole time, straightening her bangs with the other hand. She dangled it for a moment before releasing, cascading him beneath the mountainous layers of cloth. 

Dante felt and searched through the cloth, somewhere in the darkness he felt the ink graphic of a pupil belonging to Asuka, about the size of him. Covered in her scent, shirt still warm from her body, it reminded him of a blanket fresh out the dryer. A hole was finally found through several seconds of sifting. Beyond the hole was fresh air, and an object hovering close, blocking the light from her standing lamp. A curious, goofy Paige, awaiting his departure from her tee shirt, her face and body directly above the boy. 

“Climb.”

“What?”

She sat back stretching both legs, now bare and unclothed besides a pair of floral panties, on either side of Dante. She leaned back on her arms, her crotch mere meters from the pile of shirt the boy had resurfaced from, followed by her belly and breasts.

“Climb me.” 

Truthfully, beneath that veneer of disdain, part of Dante did not want to admit how ideal the scenario had been playing out. He wanted to abide her every word, to scale her body, to explore it in the most intimate of ways. Still uncertain, almost half-awaiting the rug to be pulled from beneath him, he did as she commanded, approaching the cotton wall of fabric that masked her lady parts. 

The air turned from artificial scents to a sour musk upon his approach. Realizing he had never smelled a vagina, the hormonal overcharge made him primally obsessed. This cloth, tightly binding against her womanhood through an entire day (perhaps two, even) of 4chan usage, gathered with it every oil and odor that seeped from that region. It was powerful, aggressive, and delightful. 

One’s olfactory receptors, the part of the brain capable of identifying scents, is located directly beside the hippocampus, the part of the brain responsible for memories. This is why scent elicits memory and nostalgia better than any other sense. This was also why Dante’s brain, from now on, was permanently wired to remember this occasion, to crave this, to worship this scent from this day forward. It would never leave him. 

Feeling the cotton wall for any sort of grip so he could actually climb caused Paige to gently twitch, muscles retracting from his soft touch. The first attempt was made by clinging onto the cotton folds, but they would very quickly disperse upon impact. Dante continued touching and feeling despite realizing another approach would be necessary, hands moistening from the dampness of her panties. Examining outside the edge of her pantie lining showed pubic stubble by her thighs that could make for good leverage. 

The stubs were just small enough to act as expert level artificial rocks on climbing walls. Dante would grip, hoist himself up a few, then fail, falling down below and scraping his limbs against the sharp stubble. 

It was kind of hot to experience this much challenge and exhaustion between the legs of a woman who took pleasure in the watching the struggle. His third attempt forced him to actually forget about the situation. This could not be done while horny or distracted. 

After falling the third time, he noticed hushed giggles. Not by the sound, but by his climbing wall shaking and moving. 

“Paige, this is a pain in the ass. I can’t do it if you’re laughing.” 

A blushed Paige covered her mouth and nodded as he went for a fourth attempt. He slapped his face and stretched a bit in preparation before running full speed at the stubble. His body ached from the force he was applying on his hands and feet, desperate to climb her body. So much strength was exerted that he hardly felt horny anymore. If he were too look up once, it would come rushing back, throwing his focus off. So he kept his eyes right in front of him, pretending this was not a woman, but a chunk of rock, a cliff, a mountain. 

He made it high enough to grab the waistband of her panties, signifying a huge checkpoint. He pushed himself up with the last bit of strength he had, balancing his body against the thin strap. In order to maintain balance, he had to shimmy himself across, his chest against the bottom of her stomach, in search of another means of climbing. 

“Maybe this will be easier.” 

Paige’s torso shifted as she laid her body down. Dante’s energy could be restored as he lay flat against her stomach, no longer standing. Looking above him revealed a face blocked by two mounds, and a long barren stomach before them.