I’m bored.

A long, drawn out sigh escapes my lips as my eyes travel along my desk, looking at all of my failed attempts to keep myself amused.

A tiny lies on a corkboard, their little chest just barely moving, the only indication that they’re still alive. Pins keep him in place – one going through the palm of each of his hands, another one through the ankle. It was fun, for a few minutes. His little screams, his pleading, his begging. Oh, they always beg. They always think they have something to offer me, a reason for me to spare them. But I don’t want money. I don’t want a pet. I just want amusement.

Of course, his begging soon became more irritating than anything else, his meaningless words doing nothing to dull the monotony I’m feeling. I tried to spice things up – taking a small razor, slowly starting to carve my name into his stomach, but I could only fit the first three letters before running out of space – and MIS means fucking nothing on its own! Frustrated, I’d grabbed a couple of pins, shoving two, then three, deep into his stomach. Driving them through his organs, through any bones that may be in the way, until I feel them come out, until I feel the resistance of the corkboard behind him. That’s what he gets for ruining my fucking name idea.

Nearby is a seemingly innocent jar, yet if you look closely, you’d see yet another failed attempt too alleviate my boredom. Grabbing the wife of the corkboard tiny, I’d thrown her into a jar, before filling it up with water. I’ve got to admit, seeing the water alone almost crush her as the tap was turned on was pretty amusing, thankfully, causing a small burst of giggles, but once that was over… she was just kind of boring.

I tried to make her more fun. I put a lid on the jar, then shook it around like crazy. I threw it in the air, I tipped it upside down, but…. Eh. Watching her tumble around, hearing the dull thuds as she smacks against the glass of the jar… it’s not as amusing as I thought it’d be. She’s still in there now, actually. Barely managing to stay afloat, one of her arms twisted at an odd angle, eyes wide with fear. Fuck it, let her drown, I don’t care. I’ll throw her body in the trash with her useless fucking husband later.

The rest of the table is strewn with gore, dead or dying tinies covering most of it. I’d that that, just maybe, crushing some en masse would be more amusing. And, just like the others, for a few moments, it was. Feeling their bones crack beneath my fingertip, watching them stand at the edge of the table, trying to figure out if they could survive the fall. Few attempted the jump. Even fewer survived. The few that did met a very swift end beneath my foot, the sole of my bare foot the last thing their pitiful eyes got to see, before they experienced the crushing, bone breaking pressure that was me just stepping down.

I did have one idea, though, that was rather amusing. I’d picked a tiny at random – pointing at a girl, her shoulder length, blonde hair framing her rather pretty face. Clicking my fingers, she suddenly found herself much larger than the other tinies surrounding her. Suddenly around 10 inches tall, compared to the one to two inch tall tinies surrounding her.

I glared at her, looking her deep in the eyes as a simple command escaped me

“Crush them. Make it painful, make it amusing, make it fun to watch. Do this, and you have my word, bug; I won’t kill you. If you don’t, then you’ll all die a death more horrific then you could possibly imagine.”

The panic that suddenly covered her face was pure bliss to me. Watching her eyes dart around madly, going from me, to the group, back to me. I had no doubt that somebody she knew was tiny before her – after all, it’s more convenient for me to shrink people when they’re in a group.

She has no choice, though, that much is made clear. Almost as a way to nudge her into action, I’d pulled one of the pins from my corkboard tiny – his shrill scream no doubt reminding her what I’m capable of. The instant the scream reached her ears, she lurched into action, putting on quite the show for me.

She began predictably – her foot lifting above the group, stomping down upon the people she was amongst just a few short minutes ago. Immediately they panic – fleeing madly, looking more like bugs with every passing second. I can hear their begging, but it’s no longer directed at me – their pitiful pleas for mercy are being directed at the girl before them, their new tormentress.

“Don’t forget, make it fun for me~”

I’d say, casually reaching out with the pin, jabbing her in the ass – a small yelp reaching my ears as a trickle of blood starts to drip out. This seems to lurch her back into action, as she immediately starts dealing with the pests in more amusing ways.

She runs forward, pulling her leg back before kicking a few of them – their bodies practically exploding as the foot collides with them, leaving the few who survive the initial impact with broken ribs as the least.

She picks some up, a handful at a time, before walking to the edge of the desk – ignoring their words, their pleas, as she begins to throw them off, one at a time. I find myself actually grinning at this, my foot ready – stomping on each one as they land on the floor, not even taking the time to check if they survived first.

She jumps in the air, landing, ass first, on a group, crushing them beneath her butt as she sits down, comfortably. It’s at this point that I notice…. She’s actually enjoying this. I mean, I can’t blame her; the rush of having complete and utter control over somebody else, of being in charge of their very life, the blissful pleasure you get as you so casually end another existence…

It’s a shame it dulls with time.

Eventually, there’s only one other tiny left. But at this point, I notice an ounce of hesitation. Instead of just annihilating them, she slowly walks forward – picking the tiny up, almost gently, as they begin to exchange words. Now this is interesting. Moving closer, I can just make out the words of the tiny held within her fist.

“J… Julie, you can’t….”

The tiny – Julie, I guess she’s called – looks torn, a guilty expression crossing her face. But when she sees my gaze so intently locked onto her own, terror flashes across her face. She hurriedly replies

“Ellie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got no choice! It’s either just you, or both of us! Don’t be so selfish!”

Before she shoves the tiny girl inside of her mouth – biting down, just a tiny bit, before swallowing, sending the little morsel down her throat, into her stomach.


That had been a lot of fun, but now I have another problem. I have this fucking girl, still alive, on my desk. She’d put on a good show, she’d killed my boredom for…. What, five minutes? But now that it’s over, I’m bored again, and stuck with a fucking tiny that I promised I wouldn’t kill.

It’d be trivial for me to break that promise, and I wouldn’t fucking care – seeing the hope die in her eyes would be wonderful, it may even make me giggle. But, instead, I think I’ll stick to it. After all, there’s something I’ve been dying to try out~

One hand closes around her chest, tightly, pinning her arms to her side as I rummage through my drawer.

“Don’t you dare fucking move, okay?! You’re mine. And if you ruin this, I swear to god~”

As I finish growling the words into her ear, I find what I’m looking for – triumphantly pulling out a needle and thread from my drawer. My eyes skim over her body, a cold smirk on my face as I place her down, onto the desk. The thumb of my left hand moves onto her chest, between her breasts – pushing hard, much harder than is strictly necessary.

Her breath immediately catches in her throat, her face a ghostly white as she spies the needle. She’s going to fucking beg, isn’t she?!

The instant she tries to speak, I shove my thumb down, hard – feeling a few ribs crack beneath it, as her desperate words turn into garbed yelps and screams. Perfect.

I decide to start with the eyes. Focusing intently, I move the needle down – effortlessly shoving it through the top of her eyelid, pulling the thread through, afterwards. At this point she’s just screaming, her hands clutching uselessly at my hand, but she’s far too weak to stop this. No, I’ve already decided what’s going to happen.

Once the thread is fully pulled through, I push the needle through the bottom of her eyelid, once again pulling the thread tightly – pulling part of her eye closed. A small, sadistic smile plays at my lips as I stab it through again, and again – forming the first of what will be many little X’s keeping her eyes closed, forever. Perfect.

I manage to sew around three crosses on her left eye before running out of space – one to the left, one in the middle, and one in the right. It got harder as it went on, of course – I’m pretty sure at one point my hand slipped, and the needle went into her eyeball itself – but that’s perfectly fine. I’m new to this, of course my first attempt will be sloppy! Maybe I should have cleaned the blood as I go, though, that was pretty distracting.

Speaking of distracting, the little fuck hasn’t stopped screaming since I started doing this. She’s acting as if I fucking care about what’s happening to her. As if I care about her agony. It’s an endless chorus of “No wait please don’t I’m begging you it hurts so much”, and I’m fucking sick of it.

The needle finds its way to her face once again soon enough – though, this time, it effortlessly stabs through the bottom corner of her lip. As soon as she realises what I’m doing, she starts to beg more – thrashing about beneath me, begging, uttering anything that comes to her mind. None of it will help her. Wanting to keep the pattern going, I stitch a little X into the corner of her lips, before moving on, doing another. Learning from my mistake this time, though, I clean the blood as I go. I guess I could have just used water to clean it, but that didn’t sound too fun. No, rubbing vinegar on her open wounds got a much better response from her~

Soon enough, her lips are sewn completely shut – a total of five crosses now decorating her lips, the thread pulled tightly, to the point of causing some friction burns. Yes, this is far better, now – her sobbing is muted, barely a hum, her one good eye looking up at me in abject agony. Well that won’t do, now, will it.

“Say goodbye to the light, J… what was your name again? Jenny? Ah who gives a fuck”

I grin down, mockingly blowing a kiss in her direction as the needle starts its job once more, effortlessly piercing her skin. The thought of this being a “reward” for her sends a shiver down my spine. She did everything I’d asked her to do, and I’m taking away her vision, her ability to speak and eat. I’m dooming her, encasing her in a world of darkness.

It’s so deliciously unfair. It’s wonderful.

A few moments later, and my work is complete. Her eyes are locked shut, held that way by thick thread piercing her very eyelids. Her mouth is pulled completely shut, the thread far tighter than it needed to be – but I didn’t want to risk it loosening. She’s still sobbing, of course, but I can barely hear it at all, now.

However, looking down at her…. Well, I’ve had my fun, what do I do now? She’s useless to me, how could I possibly entertain myself with a tiny that can’t talk? Or can’t even fucking see?!

Sighing lightly, I open my drawer – grabbing the little fuck by her broken ribs and just casually throwing her inside of it, slamming it shut. I almost instantly forget about her existence – she’s now just another toy that I own, and not even a particularly fun one.

I lean back in my chair, groaning lightly as I throw my head back.

I’m still so bored.