“Well,” Clarice cooed, twirling a slender finger through her silky jet-black locks. “That’s not something you see every day.”
Standing in the far-reaching shadow of the stranger, George felt a kind of shell shock he’d yet to experience in the line of military duty. He chanced a terrified glance up the length of her statuesque body, past her svelte limbs and youthful hourglass of a torso. Just as soon as the eight-inch soldier met the power-drunken gaze of the giant woman, he regretted it on all levels.
“Let’s have a look at you, little fella,” the woman said. A cream-white palm descended, fingers clawed and outstretched, for him.
His body at last catching up to his mind, George bolted. Across the hardwood floor, he ran like he he’d never run before. He heard the soft clasping of flesh as her digits closed around thin air. The shadows engulfing his body shifted as Clarice hunched, balancing against the ground, and narrowly missed a second snatch.
Dodging around a towering table leg, George knew his options for escape were desperately limited. He would never make it to the open door, as the enormous brunette stood between him and the gateway. The dusty space beneath the couch against the wall would be a fruitless hope as well. Somehow worse was the impact of Clarice’s footsteps thrumming in his ears. She wasn’t even running. At most, she was calmly strutting behind him, one rubber-soled step in front of the other. The vibration of her powerful feet hitting the earth rattled his teeth.
“Why are you running?” she purred. “I’ll play nice, honest. But I’ve never seen anything quite like you, little guy, and I’m going to have a better look. You’d save us both some time if you just stood still and waited for me.”
Like hell! George redoubled his sprinting effort. With a flying dive beneath the table again, he barely avoided another lazy grab, as Clarice’s titanic fist snapped shut just behind him. He suspected, if she truly wished, she could’ve had him in that moment, but she granted him one last flight. A lithe giggle booming from above all but confirmed this fact.
The closed door on the opposite wall, George realized, was his only chance now. His playful would-be captor had spread her legs, creating an enticing archway under which he might pass and race for the open door, if he was as fast as a squirrel. But he wasn’t, and it was obvious she’d catch him. So, forgoing the rationale of his doll-size, George scrambled for the sealed exit. Only after he threw his hands underneath the crack did it occur to him that, no matter how quickly he could perform an army crawl, it was no good if he couldn’t fit his body under so small an opening.
The irony was almost morbidly funny. He’d become so small that he was now the impromptu prey of this woman, yet not small enough that he could escape. The broken laws of nature, it seemed, had a wry sense of humor.
“C’mere, little one. What, you think you can fit under there? You’re not that small. No, you’re… the perfect size, I think. But we won’t know for sure until I’ve got you, will we?”
Inevitably, Clarice overtook him. She seemed to take her time in collecting the eight-inch trooper. He experienced the distinct sinking anxiety of craning his neck to watch her open hand reaching for him once again at a measured pace, knowing there was nothing he could do to avoid it. The creases of her soft palm gleamed from the fluorescent light.
Her fingers, delicate yet firm, coiled daintily first around his hips, then the rest of his body in a rippling wave. The plush tunnel of her fist closed fully over him. The spongy pad of her thumb came to rest against his chest, plied stiffly enough that she could almost certainly feel his heartrate. He, too, could feel her quickening pulse through the gridded skin.
Of course, George wouldn’t be taken without a fight. Even as he felt the floor falling away from under his boots as Clarice lifted him back up to her full height, he combated her with everything he had despite his binding. He arced his legs, thrust to the sides, and even butted his head against the pale plank of her index finger swirled around his shoulders.
“Aw, that’s so cute! The little soldier, putting up a fight. I’m not gonna lie, it’s kind of adorable,” Clarice said. Her fingers, though velvety in texture, retained an iron-strength hold in their positions, unaffected by George’s thrashing. She wrinkled her nose, making a baby face at him. A glossy, French-tipped fingernail combed lovingly through his hair. “I’ve never seen a doll anything at all like you.”
“I’m not a doll!” George grunted, still squirming for all he was worth.
“You’re not?” Clarice responded with mock-surprise. Her long fingers tightened their grip ever so slightly around his frame into an aggressive snuggle. “Then what exactly are you?”
“I’m a man!”
“Hmm, might have to check your math there, toy soldier. You’re… what, seven? Eight inches tall? You’ve got your little camouflage doll clothes on and, most important of all, I’ve got you in my hands and you’re not getting away. I’m pretty sure all of that makes you a doll, not a man.”
Devoid of answers, George returned to his previous useless efforts to break free. There wasn’t a chance of wriggling his arms out of Clarice’s mighty curled digits, and his swinging legs couldn’t reach high or far enough to kick anything.
“Oh, we’ve got ourselves a feisty little doll here, don’t we?” Clarice snickered. She traced her fingernail down his cheek, forcing him to remain still again. “I like it, really I do. Makes me curious to see how the rest of you ticks.”
“What?”
“Well, for example…” Clarice continued. She opened her fist just broadly enough to reveal the hem of his tiny shirt, which she plucked sharply between her thumb and index finger. “What are you hiding under these precious little doll clothes?”
“Wait, stop!”
From the glow in her quicksilver eyes, the decision was already foregone. The young woman performed her task with the practice and quiet intensity of someone threading a needle through the eye. With her fingers cinched around George’s arms to hold him up, all it took was a few tugs to worm the uniform up and over his torso. Her warm-tipped fingers drew a tickling figure-eight into his abdomen before her thumb fished down toward his beltline.
“No!” he crowed. “Leave that, please!”
“You’re such a fussy little thing, aren’t you?” Clarice murmured. “We’re almost there. Just relax. It’s these, your undies, and then we’ll have a good look at you.”
Her trunk-like fingers clasped back over his chest, just hard enough to restrict the fight. The buckle of his pants surrendered to the giant woman’s pensively pinched fingers. She wriggled the material down his legs, taking care to spiral her pinky delicately around his calves on the way back up to collect the final piece. Expertly, her finger slid under his boxer waist and peeled the paltry cloth off and flicked it away, leaving the man helplessly nude in her balmy, malleable grasp.
“Now that’s more like it, isn’t it?” Clarice declared. Her fingers explored with merciless abandon, even as she only laid her skin upon his with the utmost tenderness, nudging aside his defensive arms in effort to caress his chest and prod the zone between his legs. A lilting laugh filled the room as she pinched his buttocks in her fingertips and sandwiched him between the peachy expanses of her palms.
“Please!” George groaned, even as his baser instincts were set alight by this admittedly gorgeous woman’s amused toying. “Please give my clothes back.”
“Oh, my little toy soldier, didn’t you ever learn? Some dolls are much cuter without anything on at all. And seeing as you’re mine now, that’s the way it’s going to be.” Satisfied, the woman cradled her new plaything to her chest, fondling the delicate spires of her fingers up and down his quivering body, and made her way to the door.
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
Just a short semi-gentle handheld one-shot, done as a commission. Enjoy!
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My Patreon for early-access stories and exclusive tales is now online! Hope you'll give it a look: https://www.patreon.com/JacksmithShrinkStories
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My Patreon for early-access stories and exclusive tales is now online! Hope you'll give it a look: https://www.patreon.com/JacksmithShrinkStories
Chapter End Notes:
That's the end of this quick one, but expect some longer stories soon.