A Short Story from the Giantess Anthology

A Day in The Life of a Living Sex Toy III - Part 1

By Richard C.H. Davies

Warning this story contains: Shrunken Man, Shrunken Woman, giantess, sexual implied, vaginal/ pussy insertion implied, lick, anal insertion implied, toilet disposal implied, golden shower implied, chase, huntress, shrunken slaves, entrapment, horror themes

Awareness returned to him. Michael knew he was in trouble. He kept his eyes closed and fought the urge to move.

He hoped he had made no sound or motion when he regained consciousness, but he just didn’t know. He hung upside down. 

A rope, or rather string, was tied about his ankles and he was dangling upside down from his ankles. Trussed up like a freshly caught pig for the slaughter. What a pitiful existence his life was now. 

His head pounded with pain and felt numb; all at the same time. It felt like it was going to burst from the pressure of the blood that was pumping round and pulsing through the bulging veins on his brow.  

His legs burned and throbbed from the pressure of gravity pulling down on him. 

His shoulders were painful as well, they felt sore and ached. He couldn't actually tell if his arms were dangling or tied up against his body. 

His neck was sore as well, from his head and body being used and abused so much. 

In fact, his whole body ached. 

What a pitiful creature he’d become. 

He heard movement in the background. Their captor was shifting around and doing something. It sounded like she was using the drawers in the room. There was clattering and thumping; but luckily it didn't get any closer to him. 

He didn't dare open his eyes and invoke her wrath. 

At some point, hanging there from his feet, Michael either fell asleep or passed out. When his awareness returned, it was silent. 

He still hung from the giant string which was like rope to him. His head pounded all the harder. The numbness had spread to his fingers. He risked slowly opening his eyes. It was dark. 

He looked around, his perspective was skewed from hanging upside down and from the pressure of blood in his head; which throbbed and pounded. 

It was night time in the room. The lights were out. 

Only a little bit of light shone through the windows. A sliver of illumination provided by the pavement lights outside, glimmering through the crack in the curtains. The only other glow was the phone charging by the bedside in the distance on the far side of the room. 

It looked like it was kilometres away. 

He looked some more in that direction and saw the large mounds and undulating shape of the body sleeping on the bed. He could hear the heavy breathing of the woman. 

She was a woman who was pretty to look at, and wouldn't have been considered as any kind of threat at all to him; if he was normal sized. 

She had a firm and unrelenting gaze, but her stature was what made him tremble at the sight of her. 

He shivered at the thought of what she had done to him these last few days. He and some other poor victims had been used to sate her sexual appetites. Unfortunately for some of them they hadn't made it; like Krish. 

He felt sick at the thought of what had happened to Krish. Flushed down the toilet like a dead goldfish. A horrible and undignified way to go. The things that had happened to the others too. 

He painfully moved his head to the side. 

Only one man hung beside him. Silently. Unmoving. The other man was gone. This guy was a tough man. He and his brother had been introduced; after what happened to Krish… And now his brother was gone.

Dead along with all the rest. Dead because of this horrendous woman’s appetites. Michael listened for a time, but no sounds came to his ears. Luck had been with him. Waiting had been the right decision. The giantess had gone to bed and straight to sleep. Just as he had hoped. 

She had used them earlier on in the evening; and had her fill. Strung them up like fresh kills, she had. 

He had no doubt that she would be back for them in the morning. 

He couldn't bear the thought of it, but he knew it was likely. She was a person who seemed to like her routine. 

He awkwardly glanced towards the window to establish when it would be daylight. 

He couldn't tell from this angle; he was facing away from the window. 

Maybe daybreak was within moments. Maybe hours. Nevertheless, now was the time for him to make his escape. 

With all his strength, Michael flexed his bruised abdomen muscles, reached forward and upwards, and grasped the ropes that held him. He pulled up, but his arms were partly numb, he couldn't get his hands to work to untie himself. 

He was so tired and injured, and the blood was in all the wrong places, that he couldn't summon the strength.

He tried to hold himself up but his abs were burning and he flopped back down again; instantly regretting his moment of weakness because it jerked his ankles and jarred his upper body. It was worse than if he had just borne through the pain, but he was so exhausted. 

He gritted his teeth in pain and frustration; and took a few deep breaths. He calmed himself and then reached upwards again. 

He hooked his fingers around the string and gripped hold of it. He was determined to escape. 

He managed to hold himself there, his legs and back felt like they were alight with fire as the seconds ticked by and the circulation redistributed around his body. 

The pain and burning feeling turned to tingling sensations and then he felt warm and a bit more normal. 

He pulled up on the string with all the strength he could muster and tried to wrench his feet free. But the string was far too tight and it was thick like rope. His ankles were abraded and bleeding, maybe swollen. 

He had to shift his weight and hold himself up by one hand as he used the other hand to work the string free of his ankles. 

That was no mean feat in his exhausted condition. Even harder, and all the while, he had to do it as quietly as he could; forcing himself not to grunt or breathe too loudly from the effort and the strain. 

He feared that any noises could wake the giantess up, and if she woke up, he knew he would be in trouble. She was swift to punish; merciless. 

He had witnessed what had happened to someone else, another victim, who had bravely tried to escape. 

If she woke up while he was still restrained, but caught him in the act of trying to escape, then he was finished; he knew that. But it was worth the risk. 

He feverishly started to try to pull at the knot of string, but it was so hard to release any of it. 

Dark thoughts crossed his mind. Was he ever going to get out of this? 

He needed to get out of this, he couldn't be flushed down the toilet or crushed by her buttocks or have her fist slam down on him; like some of the other victims. 

He was determined to survive; but he couldn't free himself. 

Tears of frustration manifested in his eyes and beads of sweat built up along his bruised naked body. 

He wanted to scream in anguish; to signify how helpless he felt; but he knew that wasn't a good idea either. 

He had witnessed what happened to a screamer. A poor lady, probably a week or so ago now. She hadn't even lasted a day. She cried and screamed for help early in the evening. 

The giant woman, Rachel, had shouted at her to be quiet. She had even spread electrical tape across her tiny mouth, but the tiny woman had cried and wriggled about so much that Rachel had got back out of bed. 

She had stormed over, fuming in anger. 

She had unstrapped the woman from the string of anal beads that she had been tied to and she had stretched her out on the desk. 

Michael had then wished he hadn't seen what she did next. 

Rachel was a mean woman, really mean. She had opened up a sewing kit. 

“This is your fault,” Rachel had scolded the tiny wriggling woman. Then she had pierced the first sewing needle through the woman's left hand; fixing it to the desk. 

The woman had screamed even louder then. She had wriggled and tried to rip her hand away from the giant needle. 

So, Rachel spat at her, covering her in her saliva. 

Then Rachel inserted another needle, pinning the other hand down. 

Within a few minutes the naked woman was spread eagled, all of her limbs were pinned to the desk. A smudgy mess of blood surrounded her star shaped body and her angry captor was breathing heavily above her. 

“I told you to be quiet!” Rachel had shouted at the sobbing woman. But the lady just kept crying and begging and sobbing. 

It was horrifying to behold. 

Rachel's eyes had hardened even more. She didn't show any remorse. 

She left the woman for a few moments and then she returned. 

She carried a Tupperware freezer tub. 

“Time to cool you off,” she had bitterly told the woman. 

Michael couldn't erase from his memory what happened next. 

Rachel pulled out all of the needles and lifted the wounded woman and dropped her into the freezer tub. 

“You'll be quieter after a night in the freezer,” Rachel spoke into the tub with malice. 

The blood curdling scream from the woman had haunted his thoughts and nightmares ever since. Rachel hadn't seemed to care. She sealed the lid without remorse. 

He couldn't get rid of the sight of the tiny woman pounding against the plastic walls of her prison. She knew she had limited air inside there. 

Dark red smudges spread around the walls of the container as she smashed her fists against it. She kicked against the lid, but it did no good. 

Rachel had watched her for a while like that, allowing her other captives to watch in silent horror. Then she had looked at each of them; a warning look; no doubt. 

She had lifted the tub up and carried it out of the bedroom.