"I am not going to a cripple school!" Colt objected, looking up at his doctor as discomfort crossed her face. Being forced to leave his house while traveling in his mother's purse was humiliating enough. Now, standing atop the desk of the woman who assured him that his condition wouldn't change his life, he felt his cheeks burning red at the suggestion. Her words were just empty promises disguised as coping mechanisms.

"Colt..." Dr. Moore began tapping her beige nails against the oak, stopping only when she noticed the discomfort it caused to her patient's tiny ears. "I want you to reconsider your attitude, okay?" Her voice was filled with compassion, yet he could not stop hating it. She tried supporting him during the shrinking period by suggesting lifestyle changes and reassuring him that a cure was coming. But it never arrived. Sure, there was a vaccine now, but it was far too late for people like him.

"Why do I even need to go to a cripple school? The tiny communities will open in a few months!" He was defiant, sitting on the desk while continuing to stare down the giantess.

"Please stop calling it a cripple school. Crestwood Institute accommodates a wide range of differently-abled students. It is also located conveniently close to a hospital in case of any emergencies." They both knew what “emergencies” implied in his case: being sat on, stepped on, or otherwise abused and battered by the titans. "You've already missed 3 months of classes. Your mother told me you've completely isolated yourself from your old friends..." She leaned in, forcing a weak smile. "It's not healthy for your social life."

"I'll have a social life when the communities open." He pouted. Of course, he'd seen the mockery that the victims of the shrinking epidemics endured. In the eyes of some people, they were barely even human at this point. How can you see another as a human when they're smaller than a rodent?

"I've been treating your family for a long time. You have so much potential." This time, the smile across her lips was sincere. She took a short breath, taking off her glasses. "Your parents are proud of you. Do you really want to throw it all away by stunting your education?"

No. He just wanted to be normal. That's all he's ever wanted: to be normal. But there was nothing normal about attending a school for the disabled. Quite the opposite, it would be the ultimate admission that he was different. 

"I'll think about it." He made an empty promise while averting eye contact.

"That's all I am asking." Dr. Moore nodded, typing something on her computer.

But it didn't matter what Colt wanted. Two weeks later, a pair of tiny uniforms arrived tucked in an envelope bearing the logo of the institute. It was a decision his parents made for him—just as they had decided that he would visit the doctor on that fateful day. There was nothing he could do to object since his mother could always stuff him in her purse again. He couldn't even stop his younger sister from coming into his room and taking whatever his shrunken body couldn't use as her own.

As long as he was amongst titans, Colt knew he would never be free.

"Do you need anything else before we head in?" The nurse spoke up, looking down at the tiny carrier draped over her shoulder. She had short brown hair cut that way for utility rather than style, with a white shirt around which her badge was displayed. Her long legs were clad in modest beige pantyhose, with a pair of black loafers around her feet.

Colt had mixed feelings about the carrier. It offered very little privacy, with the transparent plastic walls allowing all the people on the train to gawk at him. At least the inside was ventilated, so that he wouldn't asphyxiate—that would be just an embarrassing way to go.

"I have all the necessary paperwork here." She waved a cinema screen-size folder in her hand, taking his silence as a no. "You were also given a size-appropriate copy, but the larger version would look better when scanned." Giving him a forced smile, she explained. "They don't have any reduced individuals working here."

Size-appropriate. Larger version. Reduced individuals. These were all just meaningless euphemisms the healthcare professionals had to use if they wanted to keep their jobs. He was a tiny. That's all he will ever be.

They approached the black gates of the Crestwood, passing the threshold that separated his old life from whatever was going to come next. The institute looked to be an old building, with the walls having yellowed with age and then covered with a new coat of white—ad infinitum. It was the type of place that has been refurbished time and time again, having all the modern necessities in the carcass of an ancient building.

"We are supposed to meet with a student council representative." She explained, leaning against the wall.

"Not somebody from the staff?" Colt questioned, knowing to raise his voice.

"The school prioritizes the independence of their pupils." The nurse sounded like she was reading it off a pamphlet, one she'd likely memorized in the past. "It is designed to be flexible with the curriculum." Having said that, she looked down, saying something that may have constituted a joke (her monotone voice made it hard to tell). "But don't start skipping classes, or I'll phone your parents."

It did very little to lighten his mood as the man just sat down, watching a clock off in the distance counting down the minutes. Finally, the stillness of the school was broken by the sound of wheels rolling across the laminated floor. Walking towards the side of the carrier, Colt watched as what he assumed was the representative began striding towards them. She had long blonde hair, with a pair of bright green eyes that seemed to glint in the dim hallways. The woman's lips formed into a smile—one which didn't feel conscious or forced. Her uniform was the female variant of his, with a jet black blazer underneath which a bright white shirt peaked through; it was all adorned with a red ribbon tie. It probably should have occurred to him sooner, but the girl was currently sitting in an elegant black wheelchair. He'd seen similar ones in hospitals before—especially during his shrinking period—but they were mainly designed for carrying patients around, with 4 small wheels. This one was different, with 2 larger wheels for her to operate and 2 smaller ones for stability.

Placing her hands on her knees, she gave both of them a weak bow. "My name is Tanya. I am the president of the student council. It is my pleasure to welcome you to our school." The nurse lowered her head in response, while all Colt could muster was a wave.

His caretaker took the initiative, handing the over folder to Tanya. "Alright, Colt. My job ends here for today." Reaching into her pocket for a lighter, she turned back towards the tiny man one last time. "In case you have any concerns or difficulties with your condition, you have my contact information. I know you've been told this already, but the hospital is nearby and there is always somebody on standby. So try to relax, okay?" Opening the carrier, Colt could feel the woman's hands gripping his abdomen a little too tightly as he was hoisted into the air and given to his classmate.

The girl carefully cupped her palms, handling him as if he were a bird that just crawled out of its egg—his hollow bones ready to crack under even the slightest of pressures. "You should listen to the nurse. The student council is here to ensure that your stay is as safe as possible." Bringing him up to her face, Colt felt her warm breath as the woman spoke. Her voice was gentle, something which his sensitive ears appreciated immensely. 

"Is it any good?" He said, wanting to say something just to prove that he could speak. "The school, I mean."

"I've been here for a few years now, and I can honestly say it's been an amazing experience." She attested. "Shall we head to the class, then?" Looking down at him, Tanya clicked her tongue. "I need my hands…so…would it be okay if I placed you here?" She questioned, lifting her blazer. There was a tight, cozy little spot for him to settle between it and the undershirt.

"…sure" Colt started to get annoyed at how squeamish he was. It must have been one of the defense mechanisms he had developed from interacting with foreign giants. It was better to be courteous than risk getting stepped on. Nobody was going to go out of their way to hurt the virus victims, but "accidents" were so common they had long stopped counting them as manslaughter for the sake of preventing mass arrests. 

Soon, her slender fingers wrapped around his waist, carefully lowering his 5-inch form as it was placed snugly in his little personal seat. The feeling of soft fabrics pushing him from both directions was oddly comfortable, like getting tucked in by a pair of weighted blankets, with Colt’s upper torso and hands thrown over the blazer for support. He could feel the heat coming off Tanya. Her hypnotic heartbeat—each pulse stronger than his entire body—was overpowering, yet relaxing.

Leaning his head back against the white shirt like a pillow, the realization that only 2 thin pieces of fabric separated him and the president's chest immediately made him conscious about each of his movements. The woman didn't seem to mind, rolling her way toward their shared destination while humming something. During the trip, Colt had the opportunity to observe the place that was to become his home for the next few months. It almost felt like being on an amusement park ride, except instead of a cart, his mount was a girl.

For a while, he was silent, thinking about something—anything—to speak about. When you were only 5 inches tall, there was often a need to establish yourself early as a real person lest they forget you existed. Just the act of having a giant who checks if you’re alright dramatically increases your survival chances. But before he could come up with anything meaningful, they arrived at the classroom.

A girl held the door open for Tanya as Colt looked her over: short messy red hair, blue eyes, the same uniform everyone else was wearing—a blazer wrapped around her waist like a second skirt. No matter how hard he stared, the tiny couldn’t tell what was wrong with the woman. It’s not like he expected everyone to label themselves with stickers, but she genuinely just seemed (for lack of a better word) normal.

“Thank you, Emi.” Tanya nodded, moving inside. The classroom itself was also deceptively normal, with the only real difference being the fact that the desks were placed a little further apart. Their one was the closest one to the door—likely for wheelchair access. 

Emi grinned, looking over her friend like a kid expecting a gift. “Is the new guy here?"

“Mhm.” The president responded, reaching into her chest and lifting the new student onto the wooden expanse of a table. “Colt, this is  Emi. She helps with organizing the student council.”

“But don't worry about that.” Emi shook her head. “The council hardly does anything anyways.” She bent down closer to get a better look at him, resting her chest on the desk. Colt could see the woman's face observing him as if he were a new toy Tanya brought to school. In response, the man just stood with his arms by his waist like a toy soldier being examined by his commanding officer. “Aww, he’s so cute! I was wondering when we’ll finally get a tiny classmate.” 

“Emi…” Tanya scolded, lowering her eyebrows. “You're still a member of the council.”

“So?” Emi looked up, already using her fingers to raise and lower Colt's arms as if she were playing with an action figure. Fortunately, there wouldn't be a trip to the ER today, since the man had long ago taught himself how to go limp when getting manhandled like that. The worst mistake you could make was trying to fight back. 

“So don’t call him tiny just because he’s reduced—and don’t touch him like that!”

“It’s fine.” Colt pulled away the moment Emi loosened her grasp, rubbing his sore shoulder. “You can say tiny.”

“But…” Pressing her lips together, Tanya tilted her head to the side.

“It’s fine!” He assured—this time, a little louder. “Just. Say. Tiny.” Sure, he hated the way that Emi was handling him, but if there was one thing that the man hated more, it was pretending that everything was the same—that all was well in the world. Planting his foot down, this was one of the things that could override his Edwardian survival instinct.

“He said that it’s fine, Tanya.” Emi joined his side, lifting the shrunken man by his legs. He dangled in the air like a pendulum seeing two upside-down faces: one looking terrified while the other sported a wide grin. “You know, I am jealous you get to keep him.” She stopped, allowing him to roll onto the table and regain his footing. “Here’s an idea!” Slamming her fist down in excitement, Colt could feel his teeth rattling from the impact. “Let’s rotate him around!”

“I don’t know…” Tanya tapped her chin. "We'll let Colt decide." Emi started at the tiny again, expecting him to blurt out his answer like a sparkling bomb. "I meant after he had some time to think!" The Prez elaborated, finding it hard to curb the enthusiasm of her peer.

The rest of the day passed like a blur: introductions, paperwork, and half-hearted attempts at navigating the school's layout. When they finally arrived at the student council room, Colt saw boxes upon boxes filled with the various school forms. The low ceiling at least made the place appear less cavernous than the rest of the world. There was a corkboard hanging on the wall where members were supposed to submit their ideas, although it lay depressingly bare at the moment, with only a few fliers from local restaurants. A large foldable table surrounded by 4 chairs decorated the center of the room. Aside from that, an old black couch was tucked into the corner.

“This is our little kingdom.” Extending her hands, Emi presented the room as if there was anything worth presenting here. “Now you know where it is. If you ever want to skip, just drop in here. The school is lenient about this kinda stuff.” She exclaimed, throwing herself onto the couch—the old leather creaking under her weight. 

“Good to know.” That’s exactly what the nurse had already told him, but hearing it from an actual student was reassuring. 

“Don’t listen to her.” Tanya crossed her arms. “Emi sometimes says stuff like this to mess with people.”

“But it’s the truth!” The woman objected, quickly jolting up.

The final destination on their little trip was Tanya’s (and now, also his) room. It was neat and organized, with a large bed dominating one corner and a desk with a bulky computer in another. 

“Make yourself at home.” She reached down, lifting the tiny out while tugging on her blouse to cool off. There was a dark spot on her chest where he had been just a moment ago, with Colt also coated in her earthy sweat.

“Alright, come on Tanya.” Emi cracked her neck, walking up to the wheelchair and waiting for something. “I want to go to the shop before it closes.”

“Up.” As soon as that magic word was uttered, Emi grabbed Tanya under her armpits and transferred her onto the bed in one, swift rehearsed motion. Colt wasn’t sure why Emi didn’t just do that immediately. It was clearly what the Prez wanted. Maybe Tanya didn’t like getting lifted out of her wheelchair without permission—even by her own friend? Either way, Emi headed for the door, closing it behind her as his new roommate moved her legs onto the bed.

“Do you need help?” There was a certain instinct—a Human instinct, not a tiny one—that demanded him to say it, even if there was really nothing he could do. Maybe his parents raised him well. Maybe it was just something you said when you saw someone like Tanya. The woman might have wanted to pretend that they were both normal, but Colt wasn’t going to deny the reality: he was a tiny, she was a cripple.

“No?” Tanya seemed surprised. Help? She was here to help him, not the other way around. “No, I am fine.” This time, she tried not to sound so condescending. 

Colt walked up to the bed, pulling himself onto the vast expanse that was the mattress. “You don’t need Emi to be here?”

“To get around or?” Sitting up, Tanya made some space for the tiny now inching towards her leg. “I can get in and out of the chair by myself if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why have her do it, then?"

“Because she's my friend? Because it’s easier that way?” The woman tried to not make it sound as if his question was stupid, but she was definitely thinking it. “Because she was there to help me? I am sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean.”

"You seemed perfectly capable of doing it yourself.” By now, Colt was reducing the question to its most platonic form. “So, why not do it yourself?" 

“I didn’t know this was considered strange.” Tanya let out an awkward laugh—the type you make when you have nothing else to say. “If you can help someone, you’ve got to help them, right?”

Colt pondered the response for a moment. "I guess so." He conceded, though a part of him still felt uncertain. 

Tanya winced, looking at the wooden cabinet across the room while rubbing her thighs together.

"What?" Colt followed her gaze. "What—what do you need?"

“Would you mind fetching something?” Tanya singled out the last drawer. “There should be wet wipes in there.” Twiddling with her thumbs, she clicked her tongue again. “It’s sometimes hard for me to shower so…" Suddenly, Colt could see her head perking up. "But I make sure to go at least twice a week!” She entered a defensive stance, wrapping her arms around her waist. “It’s just…you know. It’s late. And…you know.” 

Colt nodded to let her know that he did know—lest she repeat it a third time—and approached the drawer. It took a good few pulls, but it eventually cracked open. Inside, he found the towel-sized wet wipes and pulled one out. He then turned back to Tanya and held it up for her.

“Thank you.” She said while using her other hand to lift the tiny back onto the bed. 

“I’ll do it for you.” Colt offered, although it sounded like a demand. To have someone rely on you—to know that they need you to function—was the purest form of power. This is what everyone wanted, right? Hell, Emi probably only attended this place so she could have others relying on her. So far, Tanya had power over him—that much was clear; he couldn't even move around the school without her. But if she learned to rely on him? Now, there was an opportunity to earn some of it (even if he needed to put in overtime). 

Tanya stammered, slapping her thighs to keep her hands busy. “You know…” Here it came again. “I am…I am not sure.”

The tiny crossed his arms. “Don’t think I can manage?”

Her gaze flickered between Colt and the wet wipe in her hands. "It's just...personal. But if you’re sure about this, I could use some extra help.” Reaching down, Colt saw the woman removing her sweat-stained panties and throwing them into a half-filled laundry basket by the entrance. His eyes widened as Tanya placed him between her legs—canyons of firm flesh flanking his miniature body on either side. Now, the place that needed some “extra help” was right in front of him.

For such an otherwise dignified lady, her pussy was so raw that it made the man's eyes water. Messy strands of blonde pubic hair surrounded Tanya's pink lips. A musty, sweet-and-sour smell clung to his throat and nostrils as Colt took deep breaths of the humid air that felt shallow. Tightening his fist, he braced himself for the task ahead, approaching it like a huge beast that needed to be conquered. He scrubbed her privates in wide, deliberate strokes—as if he were washing windows—while grime built up on the woven surface. 

“There you go…” Tanya panted, covering her eyes with her wrist as the shrunken man continued to work. The soft material and his tiny hands tickled and teased her— a warm sensation rising deep within her abdomen. She hated how excited it made her feel, but her germaphobia won in the end. And besides, this is something that he wanted to do, right? Using two fingers, the giantess spread her lips apart—opening the gate fully for him. “A little more…”

Colt watched her insides pulsating in anticipation. Moving further in, he noticed that Tanya began leaking a little—the warm, sticky liquid coating his hands as the wet wipe became soaked. Her juices coagulated into a small puddle by the entrance, turning the pale sheets dark. “I’ll…go grab another one.” He squeezed out.

As Colt continued, a certain feeling washed over the man: pride. It was funny to think that this—washing the coral-pink cavern that was a giantess’s vagina—would fill him with so much purpose. It should have been pathetic. It should have been disgusting. But there was something about those satisfied, grateful moans that made him want to keep going despite his muscles beginning to ache. 

Just like her scent, this feeling lingered as Colt tried to fall asleep that night—looking up at the ceiling as if hoping there would be something interesting there. At first, he tried to dismiss it as his usual aversion to sleeping at a stranger’s place, even finding hotels uncomfortable as a kid. The longer he thought about it, however, the more tactile the answer became.

This didn’t need to mean anything. Tanya probably didn’t want it to mean anything. So why was he so worried about what she thought? Why was he so concerned with her pleasure—whether she liked something that he did? In a few months, he wouldn’t even be here. Once the communities open, there will be more than two layers of fabric separating them. 

The Prez did not look like an easy girl. She was probably only fine with going this far because she did not see him as a human. In a way, that worked out just fine. It's not like Tanya was an idiot. One day, maybe she could learn to stop pretending.