Chapter Two
By Masked Writer
Molly rose on the morning of December 24th to find that her nightmare was nonesuch, that it was indeed a dreamlike reality in which she could not wake herself up from. Opening her eyes, she awoke to the sight she had fallen asleep to: a colossal bedroom through the steel bars of a cage. Pushing the terror out of her mind was impossible. She could not prevent herself from ruminating on the fact that it was Christmas Eve morning and that she should have been with her family. She imagined that her folks were most likely stupefied by the fact that she had not come home. She wondered if her peers acknowledged her absence from the post formal party, if they had discussed what might have happened to her, or if she was totally forgotten in the void of another dimension, insignificantly small, reduced, an object in her enemy’s bedroom.
She found herself sitting up on a miniaturized wooden bed, the lumpy mattress leaving her body stiff and sore. It was out of pure exhaustion that she had slept at all. The horror of her condition drained her both mentally and physically. She slid her back against the cold wall of her prison and pulled her knees up in front of her, hugging them. Shivering, she pulled the blankets close to her body. Her new attire was not winter friendly. When Allison had removed her from the hand bag, she forced Molly to strip off her dress. Molly now wore a red and white cheerleader’s skirt with a matching sweater. The metal surrounding her seemed to trap the chill more than the heat. Finding the courage to peer through the bars, she could make out a giant lump of a body snuggled under a comforter. She knew the body was Allison's. Motivated by desperation, she rose and walked sheepishly to the bars, curling her tiny digits around them. "Allison. Help me. Please." It came out in raspy squeaks, her voice having been spent in screams of terror the previous night and still thick with sleep. "Please, Allison. Let me go. I, I haven't done anything to you, p, pl, please..." she began to cry.
She recalled that at one point, when she was still in school, the exchanges between herself and her foe had gotten so intense that they had been called in for counseling at the school guidance office. The result was a week and a half of freedom from Allison's taunting, but the relentless girl could not keep quiet for long. Now there was no freedom for Molly. She had been reduced to a possession. Even if she were to escape Allison's clutches, what would become of her life? It had been sucked away from her in a moment, hurled through the fibers of space and magnified to proportions that she could not negotiate.
The creaking of Allison's bed was almost deafening to Molly's fragile ears. "M, Molly, ceh, can you hear me? Please let me go. I, I won't tell anyone what you did. Please make me big again. Please? I'm begging you."
Molly heard a low rumble from below the field sized comforter. "Keep beggin’, bitch." Allison said through a yawn.
Molly slid down the bars, face pressed to them, and cried. Feeling overcome, she retreated to the bed. She hoped she would never get comfortable enough in it to acknowledge it as her own, and curled up below her own covers, crying. "Please, please, please, somebody help me. Somebody find me, please."
Having been disturbed from her slumber, Allison rose from her bed in a blue football jersey with the number 23 printed on it. It reached to the bottom of her thighs, just above her knees. Her toes sank into the plush carpet as she approached the cage on her dresser. "What's ‘a matter dolly girl? Tired of beggin'?"
Molly sat up, teary eyed, and gave her captor a desperate look. She defensively curled up and protected her head by putting her hands over it. It sounded like the roof was about to collapse on top of her.
Allison had slammed her hand down on the top of the cage. "Answer me, ya little slut."
"Please stop, Allison, please! I can't take it anymore, I can't."
"Hmmm." Allison let out. "Time for a little lesson in obedience." She opened her jewelry box and took out a piece of leather she used for making necklaces. As she lifted the lid of the cage, Molly scampered from the tiny bed. The icy floor stung her little feet. She cowered in a corner. For a moment she hoped Allison was going to set her free, but she knew better. She was plucked from the prison by her tiny sweater and placed on the wooden dresser. Effortlessly gathering Molly's hands together and pulling them above her head, Allison bound them together with the leather chord. Molly wriggled and shrieked to no avail. Allison then raised the chord, and Molly followed, her arms burning from the suspension, until her feet met the cold surface of the cage once again. Slamming the lid down, Allison let it catch the top of the chord. Molly was left standing with her hands tied and her arms stretched all the way above her.
"No Allison, don't do this, please, I'm begging you, I'm fucking begging you, no! I can't! I can't take this, please. You're killing me!" She fought to support her weight on the tips of her pretty little toes.
"Now, now, little princess. You should have thought about that earlier."
"I didn't do anything, Allison! Please, you don't understand, I can't take this, please, I can't, stop, let me go, fucking please, I can't take it..." and Molly trailed off into tears, her knees giving way, putting more tension on her arms.
"Too bad little girl. I gotta go get some breakfast now. Be back in a little."
"No, don't go, Allison, please don't go!"
Allison's face hovered before the bars, an evil grin drawn across it. "Oh, Merry Christmas, dolly." She threw her head back, laughed a wicked laugh, and left the room, locking the door behind her.
"No, Allison, no! Please no! You can't! I'm dying, Allison! You can't, how can you do this? I'm a fucking person, don't you know that? Can't you see that? I'm not a fucking toy, you fucking heartless bitch. Oh God, somebody please help me!" And she imagined that. She imagined someone finding her, and realized there was no salvation from the hell she was now in. What could be done for her condition? She was now indeed a doll, a pleasure doll for Allison.
Molly dangled, half in and out of consciousness, for perhaps a few hours, or maybe only a few minutes. Time had become as insignificant as her size. She knew it was the 24th, she knew it was a Monday, and she knew she was trapped in a cage on Allison’s dresser. That was it.
Her head swung wildly and her eyelids peeled back at the sound of the bedroom door opening. The scent of food tickled her nostrils and her mouth watered. She hadn’t had time previously to acknowledge thirst or hunger, but upon sensing the aroma of nourishment, her tongue swelled. She raised her eyes to Allison who was cradling something in her palm.
Allison lifted the lid of the prison and Molly fell to her knees, the leather strap that bound her landed on the floor beside her. Then Allison reached her fingers inside the cage and tugged at the chord, pulling Molly to her feet, then off of them. A squeal escaped the shrunken girl as the muscles in her arms once again were stretched. She was lowered onto the dresser. Allison unbound the girl’s wrists, then took one of Molly’s delicate hands between her thumb and forefinger, raised her, and placed her back in the prison.
Molly backed up a little bit to look at Allison through the bars. Allison smirked. “Hungry?”
Molly submissively nodded her head.
“Here ya go, Dolly.” Allison placed a miniaturized tray of roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and corn on the floor of the cage, along with a glass of water and some tiny utensils. “Eat up.” She encouraged her prisoner.
Molly, getting to her knees before the platter, wasted no time in gobbling down the sustenance. During the brief time it took her to eat, she had temporarily escaped the horror of her situation. Nothing else mattered but the Christmas Eve meal before her.
Allison had taken the chair from her bedroom table and placed it in front of the dresser. Sitting in it, she stared at the tiny person that was once Molly. “All done?” She asked.
Molly nodded.
“Good girl.” Allison removed the tray from the cage. Molly backed away as the threatening hand invaded her quarters. “Arms sore?” Allison asked, condescendingly.
Again Molly nodded, then added, “thank you.” She stood in the cage halfway between the bed and the bars. She was genuinely grateful for the food, and figured she’d try a humanistic approach with her captor who seemed to refuse to recognize her as anything other than an amusing little toy.
“Why, you’re very welcome, little Molly. Glad to see you’ve put your manners on.”
Molly fidgeted. “Allison? What are you gonna do to me?”
“I’ve already done what I’m going to do with you. I shrunk you.”
“But, I mean, how long are you gonna keep me like this?”
Allison squinted her eyes and her lips curled up in a snarl. “How long do you think, silly girl?”
Molly tried to sound threatening. “They’ll be looking for me, ya know?”
“Oh, you’re already big, big news. Even on the city stations. It’s so classic. The last thing anyone remembers of you, you were at the bar. That’s it. Nobody saw a thing. And I’m sure they’re not even contemplating what happened to you, doll girl, I’m not even a suspect. It seems as though you’ve simply taken it upon yourself to disappear.”
Molly’s chest began to rise and fall with swift, panicked breaths.
Allison, being keen of the psychological trauma she was causing her tiny prisoner to experience, took advantage of the situation. “So, Molly, let’s say some one did find you. I mean, let’s just say you got away. Where would you go?” Allison began to peel of her fake nails.
Molly swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“You have a boyfriend, right, from you’re old school?”
Molly hadn’t thought about him at all. “Yes.”
“What do you think he’d do with you if he found you like that?” Allison smiled.
“I don’t know.”
“C’mon, take a guess. What would he do with a little thing like you? You’d be useless to him.”
Molly sat on the bed. She attempted to choke back her tears, but one escaped and trickled down her delicate face. “He’d help me.”
“He’d help you? How?”
“I don’t know. He just would.”
“Think he’d show you off to his friends?”
Molly shuddered at the thought of it, the embarrassment, the humiliation. She and Jimmy were only semi-serious; he was just some one to go out with. He was barely a gentleman and more interested in her physical attributes than her mind. Still, he couldn’t possibly be as cold and cruel as Allison.
“That’d be kinda funny, wouldn’t it, doll girl?”
More and more Molly was beginning to feel like an object. Allison’s psychological attack was working. It was evident by the look on Molly’s stunned face. In her mind, she was trying to rationalize a way to accept the scenario.
“What about your friends, who would you trust, huh?”
Molly was silent.
“C’mon, think about it.”
“Julie.”
“Just Julie?”
“Maybe Samantha.”
“Sure, Sam would be a safe bet.” When the nails had been removed, Allison rubbed away the glue with a cotton ball and polish remover. “You trust me?”
Molly sighed. “I have no choice.”
Allison’s smile grew. “Good answer, Dolly, you’re learning.” Allison put her feet up on the dresser. The soles of them were soft in the arches, and worn at the ball and heel. The ripples across the sensitive flesh looked like the patterns on a leather sofa to Molly. She shivered. They looked warm, and Molly wished she could make contact with them just to share the heat. “You really think those cheerleader bitches would help you out?”
“Maybe. Sam would help me. And Alyssa too.”
Allison laughed. “Alyssa? Those two are so damn stupid they wouldn’t know what to do with ya.”
“Yes they would! They’d help me.”
“Keep dreamin’, Molly.”
“But, they, they’re my friends.” Even Molly knew that wasn’t totally true. But she had to convince Allison that some one would regard her as a human being. And she did believe that, regardless of their petty spat, Samantha would do what she could to help her.
“Face it, Dolly, nobody wants you now, but me. And you and I are going to get very, very close, girlfriend.”
Molly’s head went down in defeat. She stared at her pretty painted toes. Molly figured she did make an adorable doll. Her feet were perfect, well sculpted and high arched, her heels were smooth and round, her calves were well constructed and her thighs and belly were hard. Her long arms, her breasts, her sweet, little face, all attributed to her attractiveness, and now that she had been shrunk, she looked absolutely adorable, even to Allison, her enemy. If anything, she figured she could use that as a means to coheres some one into assisting her. Being an attractive girl, Molly knew how to work it.
“Ya know, I can see why everybody thinks you’re hot ****.”
Molly looked up at her. “What?”
“You look really hot in that little uniform.”
Molly just stared at her.
“You like to hear that, don’t ya? You just love all the attention. Admit it. It’s okay, I would. I mean, if I were my size and, oh wait! I am my size! You’re just a itty bitty doll!” Allison threw her head back in a fit of laughter. “But you are cute.”
Allison removed her feet from the dresser and stood. As she lifted the lid to the cage, Molly stood on the bed and put her back into the corner, spreading her arms across the two walls as if to grab onto something. “C’mon, Mol, I’m not gonna hurt ya.” She flipped through Molly’s hair with a dull finger nail. “Why, who could hurt a sweet little thing like you?”
Molly’s breathing accelerated. She was both frightened and exhilarated. The contact and the compliment both comforted her. All she had left for comfort was Allison’s mercy. And even in fits of previous anger, Molly had admitted to herself that Allison was attractive.
Allison’s finger traced over one of the doll’s aching arms. “So soft and smooth and tiny. You are simply adorable, little girl.”
Molly gave her a confused, unsure look. “Thank you?”
“Welcome sweetie! Why don’t you come out and let Allison play with her dolly, hmm?” Her hand pulled away and her fingers extended. It was slightly tilted with the palm side rising. Cautiously, and in desperate want of human contact, Molly approached it. Then hand then turned and Molly was pulled toward the palm as the enormous digits curled around her. The grip was loose and warm, and Molly felt secure. The fist took her from the cage and placed her on the dresser in front of the prison bars.
Taking the leather chord once again, Allison snipped it into two pieces and tied each one around Molly’s wrists. Molly did not put up a fight this time. Each arm was extended outright, raised only slightly. She was tied to the bars, her back against them, the front of her body a vulnerable area for Allison’s curious, prodding fingers. “That’s it, if you could only see yourself. So adorable. Oh, wait a minute.” Allison took up a mirror she used for doing her hair and held it before Molly. “Just look at yourself.” Allison laughed.
Molly’s eyes widened. She was frightened. Not because of the situation, it had already sunk in what had become of her. What frightened her was that the sight of herself in the cheerleading uniform, in bondage, was stimulating. It looked like a scene out of some sexy movie.
“Cute, eh?” Allison asked and pulled the mirror away.
Molly sucked in a deep breath as one of Allison’s fingers extended toward her. The fleshy tip gently pressed into Molly’s belly, the moved to her left set of ribs, lifting the sweater slightly to expose her tan skin. “So smooth.” Allison whispered. She raised the sweater so that the bottom halves of Molly’s breasts were exposed. Molly’s head when back against the bars and she felt herself pushing backward on her feet to prevent herself from thrusting forward. She knew that if Allison realized she had aroused her, she would never stop. “Nice little dolly.” The finger traced down over the outside of Molly’s muscular thigh, then rubbed for a moment over the tops of her feet. “Cute little tootsies.”
Molly was breathing heavy now, staring wide eyed at the giantess. She had difficulty letting it all sink in. Not only was Allison touching her, but Allison was enormous. “Allison, don’t.”
“Awe, what’s ‘a matter cutie?” Allison giggled. “God you are so hot when you’re helpless.” She leaned in close to her prisoner, her face just inches from the tiny girl. Her lips took up the full scope of Molly’s view, and she watched them as they slowly parted, the waxy lip stick trying to seal them together, then the hot, minty breath that rolled over her like a tropical breeze when her captor spoke. “Don’t ‘cha like me, Molly? I’ve seen you look at other girls. I watched you dance with Julie. You know how good it feels to be a girl, don’t ya? You know how to take care of the little clit of yours, right honey? I bet you’d know how to take care of Julie’s and Sam’s… and mine. If you could. But you’re so tiny now, why, what could you do?”
Molly forgot all about the cold. She was sweating now, trying with all her might to prevent her pelvis from thrusting forward. “Allison, please, stop it.”
“Why?”
“C, cuz, I, please stop.”
“But, why Molly Dolly?”
“Because I can’t…”
“Control yourself?”
Molly just stared at her, half angry at her loss of will power, and guilty for feeling exposed. “It’s not j, just me.” Molly let out in convulsive whispers.
“What’s not just you, sweetie?”
“I’m not the only one that, that likes, that thinks about…”
“I know, I know. What do you think now, now that you’re a little dolly? Wouldn’t you like to be played with, I mean, if it wasn’t against your will, if you were with somebody you felt attracted to?”
“Y, yes, I would.” She could have kicked herself for saying it.
“Are you attracted to me? I mean, I know you hate me, I know I scare the **** out of you, but, am I attractive, physically?”
It was too late to turn back now. “Yes.” Molly answered.
“Am I attractive now, that I’m so big and you’re so tiny?”
“Yes. And scary.”
Allison laughed. “Good. Gee, that didn’t take much. You really are a pushover, Molly. I always knew that. That’s why I tormented the **** out of you, and that’s why I’m doing it now. You’re so easy. And sensitive. Why, I think you’re actually starting to trust me, aren’t you Dolly.”
Molly neither spoke nor nodded. She just stared helplessly.
“Yeah, I knew it. Too bad, cuz now you can’t hide nothin’ from me, itty bitty baby. Oh, I so own you now!”
Molly stared desperately. She slid her right leg up and down against her left and swallowed. “What are you gonna do to me?”
Allison smirked and put her lips even closer to the bound girl. “What would you like me to do to you, Molly?”
“Please, just let me go. You made your point. Enough. Please.”
“You’re not embarrassed are you, little girl?”
Molly’s knees collapsed and she hung for a moment. Biting her lower lip, she begged. “Please Allison, stop.”
“Stop? But I haven’t done anything yet. Why should I stop?”
“This isn’t fair. You can’t do this to me. I have a will.”
“Seems to me like you’ve lost it, Molly Dolly. Look at you. You’re practically begging to be touched.” Allison sat back on the chair.
“No, no I’m not. Let me go. Please?”
“Let you go? But I’ve got you right where I want you, honey.”
“No, you have to stop. You have to.” Molly began to move her buttocks up and down against the bars. She did want to be touched, and she was exercising what little power she had.
Allison reached for a lip stick. She took the cap off and brought it to her mouth, then hesitated. “Hmmm.” She put the lid back on and pointed the torpedo sized accessory at her victim.
“No, Allison.”
“Yes, Molly.” She gently slid Molly’s ankles apart with the tip of the cap, then began to move the lipstick upward, parting her legs. The cap made contact with Molly’s skirt, raising it.
Molly felt the cold cap make contact with her thong, which was now moist. “Ah, no, no Allison.”
“C’mon now, Molly. You just love it, don’t you?” She began slowly twirling the cap, lifting Molly off her feet a little.
“Ah, ooh, no, don’t Allison, stop.”
Ignoring Molly’s requests, Allison continued to prod at her. She then began tracing Molly’s entire body with the object, and Molly could not longer hold back her thrashing. Her body jolted forward, legs opening and closing.
“I thought you wanted me to stop, Molly.”
“This isn’t fair.” Molly whispered.
Putting the lip stick down, Allison rested her chin on the dresser. Her lips parted and her tongue slithered between them like a fat, red serpent. First, it lashed over the tops of Molly’s feet, then ticked swiftly at the fronts of her ankles. The tongue felt so hot against Molly’s flesh, it almost burned. Her muscles became limber. Molly’s legs spread, and the tongue pulled back, then lashed forward again, this time scooping Molly’s feet under it, lifting them and bending Molly’s knees. The tongue slid behind the doll’s heels and pulled them forward. The lips closed around her tiny ankles, pulling Molly’s body away from the bars. Her arms still bound, Molly was held horizontally. Allison’s tongue advanced again, slithering behind the shrunken girl’s shapely calves, then spit her knees and came in wet, steamy contact with her inner thighs.
Molly began shaking, rocking herself, convulsing, trying to make the tongue’s tip reach her bulging clitoris. “****, Allison, do it already, please, stop torturing me!”
Allison would not pleasure her. She’d come as close as she could to the girl’s petals without actually touching them. She continued to suck and lick at Molly’s legs, massaging them, caressing them, coating them with hot, wet saliva. Every now and then the tongue would sneak behind Molly’s ass. Allison liked the way the tiny, hard cheeks felt under the red muscle. She’d swipe it back and forth, quickly, making her prisoner squeal with needy desire. Then the tongue would retreat, then advance, then retreat, in no particular pattern.
Molly was almost in tears due to frustration. She had been exposed, tricked, lured, and denied. Not only had she lost her mass, but her ability to seduce seemed to have shrunk with her body. This, however, was untrue. As Allison tormented Molly, her own fingers massaged her swollen clit. She was pleasured, and climaxed. Denying Molly spurred the orgasm on. Besides the physical contact, it was the power Allison possessed over Molly that drove her to ecstasy.
When she was fully satisfied, Allison spat Molly out, untied her, and put her back in the cage. From the prison, Molly watched Allison change her clothes into a dress suitable for Christmas Eve Mass, and curled up on the bed, touching herself, circling her clitoris with her middle finger until she herself climaxed.
Allison peeked in as Molly shook and trembled with delayed satisfaction. “Uh oh, I should have kept you tied up. You weren’t given permission to do that.”
“**** you.” Molly whispered to herself.
“Oh well, you’ll have to pay later. I’m late. Nighty night, Molly Dolly.”
Allison left the room, making sure the bedroom door was locked. Molly drifted into sleep and scarcely saw Allison for the remainder of the evening, until Allison retired, paying no mind to the desperate creature she had captured.
TBC