It’s been six months since I signed a contract with my beloved Princess Anasia to become her shrunken man. For years, I was a loyal customer of hers. I bought her clips, sent her lofty tributes and wrote her heartfelt messages professing my love for her.

Despite my rather extreme fetish for Anasia, I was actually a successful, fulfilled person in my day-to-day life. I was a man in his mid-thirties who was a professor at a well-respected American university teaching students about his passion: chemistry. Outside of my work, I had girlfriends and friends who occupied my free time. I also had family, but visits to them were restricted to holidays mostly.

By all accounts, I was happy, save for a nagging feeling. A persistent, unending desire to be a shrunken man owned by my secret love, Anasia.

After years of being one of her “favorite” pay pigs and her knowing about my shrinking fetish, Anasia finally proposed that we meet.

We got together at a fancy restaurant and were seated at ultra-private booth. That’s when she told me about the shrinking pill she’d acquired from a rich benefactor of hers. All I knew was the man who developed it or rather, who paid for its creation, was incredibly rich and was the main person funding her extravagant lifestyle.

Any additional questions I had for her about this wealthy man were shut down, so I stopped asking about it. I did, of course, ask if the shrinking process was reversible.

“Of course, Ian. It’s completely reversible. But I want to be upfront with you, I don’t have access to the antidote right now. The lab is out of Indonesia, and the last update they gave me was that they’re trying scrape together enough raw materials so they can synthesize more doses of the antidote. COVID has really done a number on the supply chain for pharmaceutical production according to them.”

“Are there any doses of it that already exist?”

“Yes, but my understanding is that the pills have a limited shelf life. They expire after just two weeks. The lab’s staff told me that they’re trying to work around this issue.”

Anasia was very transparent and talked to me seriously about the prospect of getting shrunk and being owned by her. Trying to listen to her was complicated by the fact that her giant tits were practically hanging out of her red satin dress.

However, what I did pick up in between stealing glances at her delightful cleavage was that I could be tiny for as short or as long as I wanted and that she and I would sign a contract together. It would reduce me to her property, not a fully autonomous man, but she would also have a legal responsibility to house me, protect me and care for me as long as the contract was in force.

“So, little guy,” she said, her favorite way to refer to me, “Do you want to do this? Becoming little for me is a big decision.”

Knowing how offended Anasia might get if I didn’t immediately do what she wanted, I nodded and said yes. She squealed and ordered me to buy the most expensive wine on the menu to celebrate, which I happily did.

We eventually agreed that I would get shrunk for six months. I would apply for a sabbatical at my university, and when it was approved, the process would begin.

Since I was petrified of anyone finding out that I had a shrink kink, I told no one about what I’d be doing over my break. Just that I’d be away for the next six months. People in my life were weirded out about my sudden secrecy, but I didn’t care.

Another consequence of keeping my proclivities a complete secret was transferring all my worldly possessions and wealth into a trust that Anasia would have control over during my six months under her care as a tiny man.

When the day came for me to finally shrink, it was me, Anasia and her lawyer, an attractive brunette named Paula, in a conference room. Paula, out of courtesy, tried to act as my impromptu legal counsel as well, asking me to really consider what I was doing. She even advised me to call my own lawyer. Anasia gave her a few dirty looks, but I just kept reassuring Paula that this is what I wanted to do.

Once everything was signed and I was essentially penniless, Anasia ordered me to strip. Paula left the room, and I did as I was told. She then handed me the shrinking pill. Surprisingly, I was too nervous to actually put it in my mouth, so I let her lay it on my tongue and massage my throat until I inevitably swallowed. She had to do this on her tippy toes, since she was only five feet tall, and I was over six feet tall. Not for long though.

I started shrinking immediately. Anasia squealed with joy when I quickly became shorter than her. But before long, I was already boob height. I’ll never forget her outfit.

On top, she had a gray ribbed T-shirt. It was low-cut, just like always, and it was delightfully skintight. So skintight that her tits were overflowing above the few buttons trying to keep them in place.

On the bottom, she was wearing a pair of black yoga pants that I got more acquainted with when I shrunk past her hips. I was greeted by her camel toe, which I had to restrain myself from jamming my face into. Of course, as soon as I was able to admire the outline of her pussy, my vantage point shifted downwards. Down, down and down, until I was eye to eye with her thighs. Then her knees. Then her shins. And finally, I ended up at looking up at her feet, adorned in black stilettos.

“Right where you belong, little man.”

The next six months were bliss. Anasia dominated and humiliated me every chance she got. Crushing me under her toes, dangling me over her open mouth, tying me into her hair when she went out in public. All of it was up to her, and I submitted completely.

However, there was also a gentle side to her. There wasn’t a single morning for the next six months when I wasn’t woken up by her sucking my pinprick of a dick to completion. She also almost always kept me in her cleavage, and since I was so obsessed with her tits, this was like a dream come true.

Not once during my time with her did I think about my friends or my old social life in general. I did think about work sometimes, very rarely though. At times, I was convinced that I could live like this for the rest of my life.

Eventually the six months did pass, and on the day that I was supposed to be returned to normal size, I was informed by Goddess Anasia (what I called her now) that the antidote wasn’t ready yet. After explaining the problem to me and saying that I’d need to stay tiny for at least another year, she tried to reassure me.

“Listen baby, I care about you. I’ve grown to like you even more during our time together. You’re a great man who has taught me so much, given me so many laughs and, orgasms, hehe! What’s wrong with another year of bliss, huh?”

“Nothing, Goddess. I’m actually excited to be with you like this for longer. It’s just that I was planning to go back to school by now. What will the administration think if I extend my sabbatical again?”

Leaning down in front of me with her tits almost falling out of her woefully inadequate pink top, she said, “If you have any other ideas about how to move forward, I’m all ears.”

I thought about as hard as I could with her mesmerizing tits in my face, which is to say, not very hard at all.

“I can’t think of anything, Goddess. I’ll, um, stay with you for another year. I guess I’ll tell the administration that there are some extenuating circumstances.”

“OK then, my darling little man! I’ll get that contract in front of you ASAP so we can get right back to our wonderful little life together. And don’t worry your little head about the antidote, your goddess is handling it exactly how she sees fit.”

Later on that same day, Anasia brought me to the very same conference room I’d shrunk down in to meet with Paula. I sat nude on the table, while the women sat in chairs behind me as I looked over the new contract that would render me Anasia’s property for a year.

Paula kindly flipped the pages for me as I read. Anasia, on the other hand, kept groaning with each new page I started, clearly wanting me to just sign and get this done with.

For the first five pages, everything seemed up to snuff. But something on the sixth page threw me.

“Um, Anasia?” I asked to speak.

“Goddess Anasia, you mean,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

I shivered. “Yes. Goddess, may I ask a question about the contract?”

“Yes you may, little man.”

I walked back over to the lines that gave me pause and read it aloud: “It says here that, ‘property is not allowed to question owner about anything regarding the antidote.’ What is that about?”

Anasia scooped me up into her massive palm and squeezed her fingers around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Paula wince.

“That, my little guy, is just my way of keeping things light for the next year. I didn’t want to say it before, but all your talk about the antidote is a real turn-off.”

“A turn-off? But, I have to be re-enlarged at some point, Goddess.”

She raised her eyebrows again, a tell-tale sign that she didn’t approve of what I was saying. Normally, I would shut my mouth, beg for forgiveness and kiss her feet in adoration, but this was too important to let go.

“Goddess, I trust you completely with my size. I know you’re trying to get the antidote from the lab. You told me so yourself! I just don’t understand why I can’t even talk about it or even ask for updates!”

Anasia sighed with me still tightly gripped in her hand and looked over at Paula, who had a worried look on her face.

“Should I tell him?” Anasia asked her.

“I don’t see a way around it,” she answered.

“Tell me what? Tell me what?!”

Anasia sighed again, causing her tits to rise and fall.

“There is no antidote, little guy.”

My mind went blank for what felt like forever. And then my whole life flashed before my eyes. At the end of my vivid mental slideshow of birthdays, vacations, love connections and heartfelt friendships, the realization that I’d never go back to any of that again hit me.

Unable to speak, I cried in her hand. I wasn’t even angry at her. I wasn’t a rageful person. I was just sad that she betrayed me this way. Anasia loosened her grip on me and allowed me to bawl into the soft flesh of her palm. The two women patiently waited for me to get all my tears out before they consulted me further.

Finally, I had an idea sparked into my head that could maybe return my life to normal. It was a longshot, but it could work.

“Anasia, I mean, Goddess. Can I perhaps have one of the shrinking pills so I can study it? I’m a chemist after all. Maybe I could reverse engineer it into an antidote if given enough time.”

She rolled her eyes and put me back down on the table. She flipped to the final page, which was already signed by her and Paula. All that was left was my blank signature.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Anasia said, looming over me with her eyes burning into my soul. “You’re going to stay shrunken forever. Not because an antidote isn’t possible. Not because of any supply chain problems, and not because I struggle to communicate with the Indonesian lab techs who created the shrinking pill. You’re staying this way because I want you to stay this way.”

Horrified, I looked over at Paula and begged her to, “Do something!”

With a resigned expression, she said, “Sorry, Ian. Attorney client privilege. What Anasia is doing isn’t technically illegal, and I’m obligated to protect my client’s private conversations.”

“But she’s withholding a vital treatment for me!”

“Legally speaking, she actually isn’t. The antidote, which to my understanding isn’t actively being developed, as well as the shrinking pill are experimental treatments. Elective treatments. It’s not the same as if she were preventing you from getting a life-saving heart surgery. It’s more akin to her refusing cosmetic work for you. And given that you’re her property as long as you’re four inches tall, she has that right.”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t friggin’ believe this,” I said, burying my hands in my face.

“Ian, I told you at the beginning of all this that you should have had a lawyer present to assist you with something so life-altering such as shrinking down. I honestly feel bad for you, but there is nothing I can do to help you. My advice is to sign the document.”

I sulked and slowly walked to the box where I had to sign. Anasia handed me a pen that was taller than me, but by now, I’d become adept at using a utensil double my size.

“I’m going to have to sign a document like this every year for the rest of my life, aren’t I?” I asked before putting pen to paper.

“Yes, little man,” she said, shedding her earlier impatience. “But you’ll learn to accept it. I promise. You already love being owned by me. You know that’s true.”

I turned away from Anasia. “Paula?”

“Yes, Ian. My guess is you’ll be affirming Anasia’s ownership of you for the rest of your natural born life. We may extend the term to five years next time, just so we don’t have to drag you both in every year.”

With Paula’s confirmation that escape was hopeless, I walked back to the box, the pen unruly in my arms, and I signed the document.