Anita came hard. Her entire body, from head to toe, drew as tight as a bowstring. In that moment of ecstasy, she was sure that she was about to pass out, unable to draw breath amidst the mind-numbing pleasure that washed across her body. Her back arced, her toes curled, her fingers dug into the leather of her seat. Holy... Fuck!

Then it all came crashing down. She gasped a deep, ragged breath, and let it out in a pleasured moan as the world came back to her. Powerful aftershocks of her orgasm seized her body, leaving her twitching from head to toe, her hips bucking against the overwhelming sensation.

She wasn't sure how long it took for her to return to reality, but it was definitely longer than she wanted. She had let herself get a little carried away. Her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her hair was a mess, and both her underwear and her shoes were in the far corner of the limo's cab. God... She never would have guessed that this little queer would be such a good toy.

She could still feel him struggling weakly inside her. At some point during her ferocious masturbation, she had decided that his body would feel better inside her vagina. But now, after it was all done with, she felt a bit embarassed. She owned the little man now, but she couldn't fully rid herself of the guilt of using him like a dildo. She thought, for a moment, what she could do to make it up to him, but quickly dispelled the notion. He was her toy, and it was only by her grace that he lived.

She slid her hand into her sore pussy and slowly drew the man out by his feet. A quiet moan escaped her lips at the sensation of his body leaving hers, her tortured vagina not willing to accept any more punishment. With a soft, wet sound, the tiny man's body slid out of her, and she brought him up to her face, studying his fluid-soaked figure.

Lunch? Maybe. She closed her mouth around the tiny man and sucked him down, depositing him in her cheek.

With the shrunken man struggling against the inside of her mouth, Anita crawled across the inside of the limo to recover her underwear and her shoes. Her panties were a bit wet, but not remarkably so. She slid them back on, flipping the shrunken man to her other cheek. He might not enjoy what was happening to him, but it was his fault, really; if he hadn't felt so good, she wouldn't have to do this.

She recovered her heels and crashed back into the seat. The little man was still struggling, but he had quickly weakened, maybe already having worn himself out. In any case, he was the size of a piece of candy; he could no better fight against her tongue than a toddler could take on Mike Tyson. She grabbed her phone and pulled up her calendar. That fucking interview had totally ruined an otherwise relaxed daily schedule, so she might not have time to grab a real lunch.

They were already pushing it to make it to the meeting with the Pfizer people, and they were so close that she could have walked there. After that, she had thirty minutes to make it all the way down to Goldman Sachs, a drive that would easily take forty-five minutes in lunchtime traffic. It was originally supposed to be a quick meeting, but she had come to New York with a few hand grenades that she planned on dropping on those stiff-necked bankers. She had kept her entire afternoon open under the assumption that the meeting would completely blow up.

When she first met with the Goldman folks, they had had bagels in the conference room. After meeting with them three more times and being greeted by nothing more than a lukewarm pitcher of water, she had decided that it was either a fluke or had been intended as a consolation prize for when Dave Solomon showed up twenty minutes late. A deliberate power play, she was sure, the kind of shit that New Yorkers got up to, but she could play that game too. She had saved the developing details of her partnership with Pfizer for today, her first meeting with Solomon since she had first shown up at their office four months ago.

She drew the man from her cheek and let him lie on her tongue, sucking gently on his tiny, weakly-struggling body. Did she really want to feel a little man fighting and dying in her stomach during an hours-long meeting that was guaranteed to turn into a shouting match? More to the point, did she really want to waste her time finding another match she could disappear without raising suspicion? Every new toy of hers was another link in the chain, another missing persons report, another wallet and phone she had to find a quiet way to get rid of. She had gotten this guy the day she landed in New York, and she wasn't sure she wanted to run the risk of accidentally turning the wrong person into her slave a second time.

A wicked idea occurred to her. She opened up Uber Eats and ordered a pair of tuna sandwiches, under the name 'David Solomon,' to be delivered directly to the conference room they were meeting in fifteen minutes after the meeting started. His lackeys at Goldman wouldn't dare turn away a food order with the boss' name on it, and, if he pulled the same shit he did last time, he'd walk headlong into a room that reeked of fish.

Grinning, she tucked her phone into her purse, then opened her mouth, plucking the tiny man off of her tongue and drawing him up above her face. Holding him upside-down by his ankles, she watched him try and fail to right himself for a few amusing seconds before he finally gave up. Arms hanging loose, neck straining upwards, he stared down at her, waiting for her next move.

Anita affected a disdaining, indecisive look, savoring his bald uncertainty and fear. He tried to hide it, tried to seem strong in the face of the woman who had been barely a second away from swallowing him alive, but, naked from head to toe, he couldn't keep a single secret from her. After a few seconds, she spoke her verdict aloud. "You got lucky," she said, making it seem like an off-the-cuff choice. "You'll live. For now."

The relief in his face was washed over again with fear at those last two words, but she didn't give him long to consider the moment. With her off hand, she peeled open the left bra cup of her dress, making sure that he could see her do it, then lowered him just enough that she could drop him, headfirst, onto her tits. She felt his tiny body hit her breast, then bounce off and end up tucked up between her bra and her skin. She could have straightened him out, put him somewhere more comfortable for both of them, but it would have spoiled the image of power. Instead, she just let him lay where he fell and then straightened up her dress.

He was positioned just close enough to her nipple that it felt good. A bit distracting, a bit arousing, but certainly better than having him struggling against her pussy the entire time. As he had been for the TV interview. Unfortunately, given what she was wearing, there weren't many other places she could keep him without having to worry about him escaping.

This little guy was going to be hers for the forseeable future, she decided. She knew how to sneak a tiny man through the TSA already, so she could definitely take him back to California with her, and, once they were both clear across the country and free from any suspicion from local law enforcement,  she could do some unforgivable things to him. She could abuse him for as long as she liked, or at least until she started to see signs that the police were starting to close in on his disappearance. But, with almost three thousand miles between his old home and his new one, that would take quite a while.

Yes. The more she thought about it, the more she resolved that letting the little man live was the right decision. This may very well be the start of the longest-lasting relationship in her life.

*****

"So, just to be clear, you're only giving me twenty-four hours?"

What? Did she want more? He wasn't sure whether or not his answer was a deal-breaker, but he didn't want to give away anything unless she asked for it. He nodded, "That's right," he answered.

Emynda Polling, her name too unusual, too unique for a predator, nodded understandingly. The millimeter-sized shrinkees tethered to her earrings, one male, one female, waved back and forth as she did so. Adam couldn't really see their expressions at their miniscule size, but it was abundantly clear that both of them were naked from head to toe. How long had they signed up for?

Emynda was somewhat famous in the burgeoning world of size fetishes. She had turned shrunken matches into a fashion statement, and then had taken to the Internet to stream her exploits. Some of her so-called "human jewelry" were pure expressions of power, submissive individuals who wanted to be a passive audience to the rigors of a woman's routine. Sometimes, she would stream hours of her life online on end, focused entirely on the experience of the helpless shrinkee wrapped around her ring finger. Other times, though, the material was a bit more sexual in nature, and she would reserve her most interesting activities with shrunken volunteers for her Patreon feed.

"So I've got a few slots for you, then, and you get to choose which one," Emynda told him flatly. She put down her phone and drew a deep breath. As she did so, the ornament on her necklace rose just enough from between her cleavage for Adam to see that she had another spot filled by a shrinkee. Another woman, surprisingly, and suspended upside-down. In part because he was embarassed to be ogling the woman's breasts, he didn't get a close enough look at the living ornament to read her expression before Emynda leaned forwards. The necklace disappeared down her shirt as she did so, and her breasts pressed together, hiding the shrunken woman entirely.

His eyes drifted down to the opening in the woman's shirt, and he thought of what that brief moment had been like for the Emynda's living necklace ornament, and he felt his crotch stir slightly. He had one hell of a chance here. Twenty four hours with her? As a sex toy, an ornament, a piercing, whatever it was, it might very well be the hottest thing he had ever experienced in his life. And he had the choice; if she said something about her feet or her ass, or anything else unsavory, he could just turn her down and walk away without consequences.

"So you can either be a part of my belly-button piercing," Emynda said flatly, "Or I can fit you onto my clit ring. It's your choice."

The blood rushed to Adam's crotch immediately. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat as his dick started to grow hard. He managed to force out the most obvious decision in the world. "Uh... Your clit ring..."

"Okay," she responded calmly, and pulled out her phone to swipe at it a few times. "Just to be clear," she added, a second later, "If I get laid tonight, it won't be by you."

Holy shit, that was even hotter. Adam nodded, and barely managed to croak out his answer. "Okay..."

Emynda didn't respond to that, she just swiped and pressed at her phone a few more times. After a few seconds, Adam's phone chimed the Syze app's unique "pa-ting!" sound from the inside of his pocket. He drew his phone out, and the notification on his screen merely read "take your clothes off." The fateful 'accept' button, the one that would make him this woman's slave for the next twenty-four hours, sat just beneath the notification, waiting for him to make his decision.

He looked up at Emynda with surprise, at she stared him down, waiting for him to move. Apparently, it took too long for him to do so, so she stood up, unbuckled her belt, and slid her pants and panties down all at once, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. His eyes boggled, and he couldn't help but stare at the clean-shaven junction between her thighs. The tiny, stainless-steel ring that penetrated the wrinkled brown flesh of her labia seemed almost like an invitation. He could spend the next twenty-four hours there, all he had to do was accept this woman's offer.

In an instant, he had tossed off his shirt, pants, underwear, shoes, and socks. He stood across the table from Emynda completely naked, and it took less than thirty seconds for him to get there. Eyeing the tempting gap between her thighs for a moment, he reached down and pressed the 'accept' button on his phone.

Her hand shot forward as soon as he did, grabbing his wrist. He started back at the sudden motion, but he was already shrinking, and he was already too small to fight her. In ten seconds, he was barely a foot tall, held up far above the ground by the giantess holding tight to his wrist. In thirty seconds, he had shrunk to barely a quarter-inch, deposited into the center of Emynda's palm. From here, it seeemed like a limitless field of skin, her fingers rising up in the distance like fleshy mountains.

A dizzying blur of motion, a disorienting shift of her hands, and he was barely inches from her crotch, trapped between her thumb and forefinger. The unbearable heat and overwhelming stench was so sudden that his body started to squirm against his will, but he may as well have been struggling against a brick wall.

Emynda carelessly slid him into the hoop of her clit ring, then, unbelievably, he grew just barely enough that he felt the stainless steel tighten around his waist like a belt. He was still less than half an inch tall, but there was nothing he could do to work himself free unless she shrank him back down. The giantess had positioned him so that his face was right against her clit, and now there was nothing he could do to escape it.

With Adam securely positioned, she slid her underwear up to her waist, then her pants, then tightened her belt and continued about her day. The pressure, the heat, and the darkness increased with every successive layer, and then everything was calm.

For the first few minutes, the overwhelming stench and suffocating heat, the feeling of her hot flesh and pounding heartbeat against his tiny body, were sexy beyond belief. His dick was rock hard, and he couldn't help but jerk off. He was certainly too small for her to notice, and how could she be offended when she had deliberately put him in the most erotic place in the world?

As soon as he came, his tiny droplet of semen lost immediately to the infinite universe of flesh that surrounded him, he realized how pathetic his situation was. This was it. This was the whole experience. For the next twenty-four hours, his entire reality was the claustrophobic confines of the giantess' panties. Best case scenario, he would have to watch her have sex with another man from his helpless perspective. And, maybe, if he got horny enough by the time it happened, he could masturbate to it, but what the hell did that do for him?

Less than five minutes after accepting his role as Emynda's living clit ring, Adam already wanted to go home. Only twenty three hours and fifty-five minutes to go.