Roomies by ItWasMe

Callie has been having a rough go of it as of late, but little does she know that someone close by has it even harder than she does.

Rated: 🔴 - Sexual Themes and Violence | Reviews: 14 | Table of Contents
F/f Age 18-24 Age 25-34 FF/m F/m Adventure Romance Slice of Life Hands Playful Breast Footwear Shrink Butt Feet Heterosexual Mouth Play Body Exploration Entrapment Lesbian Hair Gentle Consensual Insertion Pussy Humiliation Slave Domination Sex Cruel Rape

Callie vs. the Minimalist Mini

Word Count: 10081
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/05/2025
Chapter Notes:

Just a heads up, this story won't be hitting some of its tags until fairly late into the story (I'm thinking it'll go about 10-12 chapters).To give you a better idea of what to expect, this story is going to be pretty gentle, but it'll definitely have some … decidedly ungentle moments, to be sure. For those who aren't looking for the latter, I'll be sure to give another heads up when we get to those points.

Also, as anyone who has happened to read one of my reviews on this site could tell you, I tend to be a bit wordy. I believe the clinical term is "longwinded blowhard." Or "asshole." I sometimes lose track of who calls me what and for which reason. Anyway, this chapter (and probably all the ones that will follow it) is long. I thought about breaking it up, but I couldn't find a good place to evenly split the chapter. Plus, who knows when I'll get around to writing chapter two.

So, in short, fuck it! Here's a bunch of words!

 As she closed her apartment door behind her, Callie leaned her back against it.

Her navy blue backpack dropped with a heavy thud to the side, and she slowly slid down to the shabby linoleum-tiled floor. The black fabric of her baggy sweatpants cushioned the impact as her butt met the cold hard floor. Her face was hidden behind trembling fingers, their well-manicured tips protruding through disheveled honey-blonde bangs as the base of her palms rested on the tip of her petite chin.

Mondays were always the worst for Callie, at least they had been since the start of the spring semester. Wednesdays and Fridays weren’t really any different from the start of the week, but that extra day off that the weekends provided gave her a false sense of relief, one that was shattered every Sunday evening and replaced by the dread of knowing what she would have to face again the following afternoon.

And now here she was again, trying to hide her shame from the world while sitting just barely inside her dingy old apartment.

These are supposed to be the best years of your life, Callie, she thought to herself. How could you let them turn into this?

Callie gave a long, deliberate exhale as she dropped her hands and tilted her head back, dark golden tresses leaking from underneath the hood of her light gray sweatshirt as they pooled atop her shoulders. She blinked tears from her eyes as her gaze fell upon the worn gray countertop of her kitchen.

And then she froze.

Dangling from the top of the counter to the floor was a piece of thread, attached at its highest point to a small makeshift hook made from a paperclip lodged into the crevice of a slightly ajar drawer. But it was less the presence of the odd combination hanging from her counter and more the fact that she didn’t even own a paperclip, let alone take the time to tie one to thread and hook it there, that bothered her so much.

Someone was fucking with her.

For the past week, Callie had noticed small things that were out of place in her apartment. Food crumbs randomly spread along the counter one day and holes ripped into a bag of bread on that same counter the next. She also thought she noticed pens and other small items moved about on the desk in her room and the living room coffee table, but it was hard to tell with such negligible things.

But this, this was anything but negligible. Up until that point, she was convinced that she had a rat problem or something like that. Rats don’t tie thread and paperclips together, though. Someone had been in her apartment.

Or maybe they were still there.

As soon as the thought occurred to Callie, she was on her feet and rushing into the kitchen. Hands shaking, she opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a large butcher knife, part of a set in a still unused apartment-warming gift from her parents.

“Alright fucker!” she yelled, holding the knife in front of her, the blade guiding her as she slowly started to move about the apartment with cautiously wandering eyes. “If you’re still in here, come out now and you can leave. Otherwise, you’re gettin’ stabbed!”

For the next twenty minutes, Callie intensely searched her home. Despite the bravado with which she spoke, she really hoped no one would show themselves. After all, given her soft, friendly nature, she wasn’t sure if she was capable of actually following through on her threat.

After thoroughly investigating the apartment, she was satisfied that whatever creeper was fucking with her had long since left. Noting the time, she quickly changed her clothes and left for work, realizing that she had just enough time to avoid being late for her shift.

She tried to put the incident out of her mind but made sure to lock the door after leaving the apartment.

********

Callie returned to her apartment four-and-a-half hours later, finally feeling a bit better about the whole ordeal. In fact, she was starting to wonder if she had overreacted just a little bit when she noticed, once again, that something was different in the kitchen.

There, waiting for her on the card table that served as her dining room table, Callie spied a roughly ripped sliver of notebook paper, likely torn from a much larger page.

She picked up the clearly impromptu note, holding it before her eyes with either side being secured between her respective thumbs and forefingers. Squinting, she was just able to make out the message, clearly scribbled in messy haste and uncommonly small:

Sorry for scare. Not intent.

Callie took in the lettering, about half the size of a finger nail’s-width, unsure what to make of it. She had so many questions: Who had left the note there? By scare, did they mean the paperclip and thread? What even was their intent, then?

But before she could consider the answers to those questions, a quiet, almost inaudible noise resembling a light wrapping on metal directed her attention to the kitchen counter that lay beyond the other side of the table.

Callie’s attention was immediately drawn to the microwave sitting near the end of the counter, or rather, who was standing near its back end. Greatly dwarfed by the appliance, not even measuring a quarter of its height, was a man dressed in the tattered ensemble of a t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers, their long-faded colors hard to discern from a distance through the layer of grime and dirt covering them.

The two locked eyes, hers filled with surprise and wonder and his with hesitation and worry. This stalemate wouldn’t last, however, as Callie’s instincts took over.

Without thinking, she swiftly moved around the table, making a beeline for the little guest occupying her countertop. While the man was slightly slower to break from his trance, he recovered quickly, scampering behind the microwave before she could reach him.

Callie’s hip crashed into the countertop clumsily as she reached her destination. She shifted the microwave to the side just in time to see the shoes of the man disappear through the semi-circular hole in the wall that she was using the appliance to hide.

With him gone, rational thought soon returned to her, and she instantly regretted her rash actions.

“Wait!” she cried.

But Callie’s plea came too late, and the miniature man was already well within the walls of her apartment. She apologized profusely as she addressed the wall, upset with herself for scaring him off.

Rather than dwell on her mistake, however, she instead made her way to her room, where she grabbed her laptop and laid on her bed, suddenly eager to do a bit of research for once.

********

As it turned out, the internet had startlingly little information about tiny people, at least ones that weren’t considered fictional. Still, Callie absorbed anything on the subject that she could find, hoping that some of it might be relevant to understanding the tiny tenant wandering within her walls.

A night’s worth of researching left her rather groggy after waking up from two hours of sleep late into the morning. Having slept through her alarm, she rushed to dress herself in shorts and a fashionable blouse, attire much more appropriate for the Southwestern climate of the area.

Before running off to her first class of the day, for which she would surely be late, Callie grabbed a granola bar from one of her kitchen cabinets. As she passed by the hole in the kitchen wall, she stopped. After a few seconds of thought, she broke a corner off of the bar and left it directly in front of the hole before making her way to class.

********

After getting through her back-to-back Tuesday classes and returning home, Callie was elated to discover that the piece of granola she had left in front of the hole was gone. She approached the small opening, leaning over and resting her lower abdomen and elbows on the countertop, her chin cupped in her open palms.

"Hi, I'm Callie," she said. "I just wanted to apologize again for yesterday. It was pretty shitty of me, and I'm not even sure why I did that."

From there, the social butterfly within Callie took over. She cheerily recapped her day to the hole in the wall. Occasionally, she would ask a question to the man she hoped was listening, but no response ever came. Still, she thought it would be rude to drone on about herself without at least giving him a chance to join in the conversation.

Eventually, she made herself some ramen for dinner, leaving a few noodles on a plate near the hole. After finishing her meal, she went about her usual night-off routine of studying and relaxing, taking a minute to speak to her hidden guest from time to time.

And Callie continued incorporating him into her day the next morning. She would speak to him and leave him food between her spread-out Wednesday class schedule. But the diminutive dude hanging out in her walls still didn't seem to be comfortable enough to reveal himself.

Thinking about the poor guy even helped distract her as she endured yet another Wednesday afternoon. Even though it still filled her with a sense of both disgust and self-loathing, she managed to perk herself up afterward at the thought of maybe getting the chance to make a better impression.

Of course, the pint-sized person was nowhere to be found when she returned home, although he had once again accepted her food offering. Undeterred, Callie swore to herself that she would find a way to break the ice with him.

While getting ready for her second work day of the week, an idea struck her. She grabbed a post-it note and broke off as tiny a piece of graphite as she could from one of her mechanical pencils, setting the two writing tools in front of the hole and next to a plate with a slice of cheap reheated pizza.

"Well, I'm off to work," Callie announced before walking out the door. "The place is yours for, like, the next four hours. No parties!"

She giggled at her little joke as she left, preparing herself for her next shift in retail hell.

********

Her shift having left her exhausted, Callie lumbered through the entrance to her apartment. Between classes and work, she was ready to call it an early night. However, that fatigue melted away as she moved into the kitchen.

It didn’t take her long to remember that she had left the little man tools with which to communicate with her indirectly. Checking the countertop, she quickly realized that he had made use of them.

The lettering was slightly larger and much more crisp this time around, and it appeared as though his diction had expanded upon being told just how much time he had to compose this new letter.

Callie,

Thanks for the food and conversation. It means a lot, and I really appreciate it.

Your tiny neighbor,

Duncan

P.S. No parties, but I did have a “get together” with Tom Thumb, Thumbelina, Jiminy Cricket, and Daniel Radcliffe. I hope that’s okay?

Callie felt her lips curl almost autonomously into a genuine smile.

“Anytime!” she beamed, aiming her excitement at the hole in her kitchen wall. “And let me know the next time you have one of these ‘get togethers.’ I’d hate to accidentally step on Harry!”

********

“Duncan?” Callie called out. “Do you think you might wanna come out and talk tonight?”

She stepped toward the kitchen table, the hem of her short denim skirt settling mid-thigh on her. She had paired the skirt with a stylish white off-shoulder ruffle-trim blouse with short sleeves.

Although it was normal for Callie to up her fashion game on Thursdays, as she would hit the bars in an effort to forget about having to deal with her least favorite class one final time for the week the following day, this time was different. This time, she wanted to make a good impression on—or at least appear as non-threatening as possible to—one particular person.

After Duncan reached out to her the previous night, she decided that now was the time to try and have a real conversation with him. She had once again added him to her daily routine from the morning to evening time, and now she would try to coax him to come out into the open.

The first step was to reassure him that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time the two had met face-to-face.

“Sorry again for lunging at you the other day,” Callie said. “It’s just that I saw you and I, uh, I wasn’t ready for it, I guess? Like, my first instinct was to grab you to see if you were real.”

A quick glance toward the hole in the wall showed no signs of movement. But she didn’t expect this to be easy.

“But I’m ready now,” Callie said. “If you decide to come out, there’ll be no grabbing this time. I’ll keep my hands to myself. Promise.”

She still didn’t notice any activity coming from the hole. She gave a slight sigh, but remained optimistic.

“But yeah, it’d be cool if we could talk,” Callie said.

She was about to continue but was startled by a small noise, sounding oddly like a very faint clearing of someone’s throat, coming from below her on the table. Looking down, she saw the tiny guy emerge from behind her saltshaker.

He had scruffy brown hair and a scraggly beard of the same color. Callie could now see that, through the dirt that covered him, his shirt and shorts, ripped and torn all over, were originally white and black, respectively.

He craned his neck upward before Callie heard his voice for the first time.

“I was kind of thinking the same thing,” he said.

********

From the moment he stepped out from behind the saltshaker, Duncan was second-guessing his decision.

After all, it wasn’t as though this was his first encounter with giants. Well, technically everything and everyone else was normal-sized and he was tiny, but such distinctions didn’t really matter to him. Perspective is king, and from where he was standing, he was just a regular guy stuck in a giant world.

“Wow,” Callie’s powerfully deep yet distinctly feminine and slightly pitchy voice echoed all around him.

Her right hand came for Duncan as though it had a mind of its own, her awed gaze never breaking from his small form, almost staring right through him. As her long, delicate fingers reached the midpoint between their massive mistress and tiny target, he took a couple cautious steps backward, stopping only when his back met his former hiding place.

He tried to say something, anything really, but his voice caught in his throat. No protests came out of his mouth, nor did any begging, pleading, or defiant cursing. Instead, he was frozen in fear as he leaned against the saltshaker, questioning why he ever thought this was a good idea.

Upon seeing this reaction, however, Callie’s eyes widened with recognition, and her hand stopped abruptly.

“Shit, sorry!” she said, pulling it back swiftly. “Caught me by surprise again. For real though, I’m not gonna get grabby. See?”

The giantess laid her hands at the edge of the table. Her lengthy digits splayed slightly as she gently pushed off against the surface. The legs of her chair screeched loudly against laminate tile flooring as they retreated, coming to rest once its occupant’s towering torso was slightly less than a foot away from the table.

Callie’s hands laid atop one another, right over left, on the tabletop directly in front of her. Then, her upper body folded, her breasts leading the way like perky teardrops as they fell from view under the table’s edge. Her movements reminded Duncan of an old drawbridge he used to see everyday near one of his childhood homes.

As her chin came to rest atop the knuckles of her right hand, the titaness gave the tiny man her most reassuring smile.

“There,” Callie said. “And I should be able to hear you better like this, too. You came off kinda quiet when I was sitting up.”

For a moment, the two of them just stared at one another in uncertain silence. Callie’s eyes, nebulous waves of green and reddish-brown crashing against each other in perfect symmetry on either side, zeroed in on him with a gentle intensity as she studied him intently from her closer perspective.

Duncan momentarily lost himself in their radiance as they reflected the florescent lighting of the uncovered bulb swinging softly high above the table with an elegant brilliance. Mercifully, Callie broke the stalemate first, ending the trance she had unknowingly placed him in.

“So,” she began, “are you, like, a borrower or something?”

Duncan’s face scrunched in confusion.

“No?” he answered. “The fuck’s a borrower?”

Duncan found his attention drawn to just below Callie's cute, slightly upturned nose, where her lusciously plump lips, lightly glazed in pink gloss and each noticeably thicker than one of his legs, were curved in a contemplative frown.

“They’re little people that live in walls and steal food and stuff from us big people,” she said, before mumbling, “at least that’s what Wikipedia says.”

Duncan nodded along with Callie’s words.

“Oh,” he said. “Shit, I guess I am one then. I didn’t realize they had a word for that. Wait, does that mean there are other people stuck like this, too?”

Callie shrugged her shoulders, the exposed pale skin of their tops visible to Duncan through waterfalls of honey tresses ending in enticing pools of dark gold on either side of her chin.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “Google didn’t show anything about real little people, and I never really watched the movies or read the books about borrowers when I was a kid, so I don’t even know if you guys are supposed to travel in packs or whatever.”

It took a few seconds for the meaning behind Callie’s words to sink in for Duncan.

“Books? Movies?!” he asked. “Did you just ask if I was a fictional character?!”

Callie rushed to defend herself against the little man’s incredulity.

“At least I didn’t admit to being one,” she muttered. “Besides, what was I supposed to think? It’s not like tiny little people are a thing. Usually. So when one starts climbing out of my walls, I’ve gotta think outside the box, ya know?”

Before Duncan could respond, Callie spoke once again.

“Hold up,” she said slowly. “You said ‘stuck like this.’ Does that mean you haven’t always been so … short?”

This time, Duncan was quick to answer.

“I was normal-sized until about six months ago,” he explained. “I shrank on my girlfriend’s doorstep, right in front of her eyes. Or ex-girlfriend, I should say.”

Callie cringed slightly at the word ex-girlfriend.

“You guys broke up?” she asked.

Duncan chuckled derisively in response.

“Not officially, I guess,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “But nothing says ‘it’s over’ quite like having to pick a pad lock with a piece of hamster bedding to escape the cage they put you in.”

Callie’s eyes went wide. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out at first. After a moment’s hesitation, she finally spoke up.

“So you can pick locks?” she asked awkwardly. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

For the first time since revealing himself, Duncan exchanged his nervous, guarded expression for a wry grin.

“I had a pretty fun childhood,” he replied.

Callie giggled at his answer.

“I’ll bet you did,” she said, pausing for a minute after her laughter subsided. “But seriously, she put you in a damn cage?”

Duncan’s smile quickly vanished.

“Yeah,” he answered solemnly. “You know, my first thought after shrinking, after I got over the panic attack and my head cleared a little, was ‘Thank God Kristie’s here.’ We had been going out for a little over a year when it happened, and she was the only person I really trusted. I felt lucky. I felt safe.”

Duncan swallowed hard, fighting to hold back the tears building up behind his eyes.

“And then she … she ...”

Duncan went quiet, staring blankly down at the tabletop in front of him as his back slid down the length of the salt shaker.

“Is it … is it okay is if I don’t talk about her?” he finally asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The question earned a quizzical frown from Callie.

“Of course,” she said. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You know that, right?”

Without looking up, Duncan only gave a timid nod in response.

“Good,” she said hesitantly. “Like, I really don’t want you to feel forced to talk to me.”

Duncan didn’t acknowledge Callie that time, and the giant girl wasn’t entirely sure that he heard her. He just kept staring at the ground, obviously lost in thought.

Slowly, and deliberately this time, the giantess slipped her right hand out from under her chin and moved toward Duncan. He didn’t seem to notice, completely dropping his guard for the first time in the conversation. Her hand crept cautiously to the tiny man’s right side. With the tip of her index finger, which was large enough to swallow his shoulder, she rubbed his right arm up and down its length.

Duncan’s head shot up, his body jumping slightly at Callie’s touch. His neck swiveled as his eyes traced from her finger to her face, which wore a kind expression.

“I know I said I’d keep my hands to myself, but you looked like you needed that,” she said. “I can stop if you want.”

Duncan turned his attention back to the finger offering him comfort. He studied it intently, and Callie could almost see the internal debate taking place inside his head.

“No, it’s fine,” he said slowly, not sounding entirely sure. “Th-thanks.”

Duncan tilted his head toward the ceiling, staring up at the kitchen’s florescent lighting as he took a deep breath. He sat there for a minute, just letting Callie comfort him. When he turned his attention back to her, he gave her a slight smile and a silent nod, which she took as a sign to return her hand to its rightful place beneath her chin.

“So anyway,” Duncan moved ahead with his story, “after I … got out of that situation, I didn’t really know where to go. Kristie was the only person I ever really trusted, and that … that didn’t work out so well for me. So without anywhere or anyone in mind, I just picked a direction and started walking.”

The minuscule male began to regale the colossal Callie with the tale of his long journey, building momentum with his storytelling as he his memories moved further past the … unpleasantness of his experiences with Kristie.

“So you would think sticking to the grass instead of the sidewalk would be a good way to avoid giant feet coming down on you, right?” he said. “Well, let me tell you a little something about phones and their effect on how much people pay attention to where they step ...”

********

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold up. You fought a squirrel?!” Callie asked, trying to keep from laughing but failing miserably. “Like, a super cute and cuddly squirrel? Over a chunk of hot dog?!”

A scowl crossed Duncan’s face.

“Yeah, well they’re a lot less cute when they’re three times your size and hungry,” he said. “That asshole looked more like a grizzly bear on top of another grizzly bear to me. And that hot dog was the closest thing to real, human food I’d seen in a week!”

Callie stopped laughing, looking lost in thought at Duncan’s words.

“Wow,” she said in an almost faraway tone. “I didn’t really think of it like that, but yeah, that must have actually been pretty scary for you. So what did you do?”

Duncan paused as he deliberated in his head the least embarrassing way to tell the story.

“He ended up jumping on top of me,” he said, holding his right side. “He dug those God damned monster claws into my side. I thought he was going to tear out my kidneys or something else important.”

Callie anxiously leaned just a little bit closer to her little guest, her sumptuous lips mere feet away from him on his scale.

“Yeah?” she said with a breathless eagerness. “And then?”

Duncan lowered his head, partially from embarrassment and partially in preparation for the reaction that was surely coming.

“I kicked it in the balls, and it ran away,” he said sullenly.

For a single solitary moment, silence fell throughout the kitchen. That silence was quickly filled with full-throated feminine laughter. Unable to control herself, Callie’s warm cherry-scented breath forcefully blew over the table, gently ruffling Duncan’s short brown hair and the ripped sleeves of his tattered shirt.

Still, he had to admit, it was actually pretty pleasant, if not a bit sticky, reminding him of a balmy summer breeze.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she gradually recovered after a solid 30 seconds of laughing. “It’s just, that’s just too funny! I know that had to be rough for you, but, come on! Who else can say they kicked a squirrel in the balls? Like, do they even have testicles?!”

Despite the warm redness still present on his cheeks, Duncan looked back up at Callie.

“They only come out in the winter, actually,” he said. “I never thought I’d be happy to be tiny in December.”

Reliving the whole ordeal in his mind, Duncan felt a swell of anger rise up from within.

“But if I ever get my size back, the first thing I’m going to do is chop that piece of shit Bigsby’s tree down,” he said. “Let’s see how tough that smug bushy-tailed fucker is when he’s homeless!”

Duncan’s outburst seemed to take Callie by surprise. She stared at him blankly for a moment.

Then the laughter came once again.

“Bigsby?!” she questioned with a renewed giggle. “Did you for real name the squirrel Bigsby? Why not Steven? Or Stuart? Or Sergio?”

Lowering his head, Duncan gave his answer nonchalantly.

“It was the dumbest name I could think of,” he said.

Callie’s laughter gradually died down, but an amused look remained on her face.

“So you gave him a bad name just because you hate him?” she asked. “Bitter much?”

Duncan looked up at Callie with a faux dark expression.

“My vengeance knows no bounds,” he joked. “I wouldn’t fuck with me if I were you.”

A self-satisfied smirk touched Callie’s lips as her eyes rolled at her small house guest's advice.

“Noted,” she said, matching the tiny man’s laugh.

With that, Duncan took the opportunity to steer his story back on track.

“Anyway, Natasha found me not too long after that,” he said. “She was actually kind of nice, at first.”

Callie’s eyes narrowed as she took in what Duncan had so casually put out there.

“Hold up, someone else found you too?” she asked. “Where’s this Natasha now?”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, she’s still around, I’m sure,” he said. “She found me when I was wandering around in the grass, probably too close to the sidewalk. And like I said, things went pretty well at first. She nursed me back to health and everything.”

Callie looked at him questioningly.

“Back to health?” she asked. “What was wrong with you?”

Lifting his shirt up, Duncan revealed the scarred remnants of claw marks running diagonally down the right side of his torso.

“Squirrels carry all kinds of bacteria in those claws,” he explained.

Callie grimaced as she took in the old wound but chose to not interrupt Duncan’s story again.

“So anyway, I was feeling all kinds of shitty,” he said. “And Natasha just so happened to hear me mumbling some incoherent shit because of my fever as she was walking by. Turns out we were right in front of her house. So she took me inside and helped get my fever down.”

Duncan stopped for a minute, remembering how nice that first day had been. He found himself wondering just what had happened to make it all go south.

“Things changed after I recovered,” he said, maintaining a casual tone. “After that, she started treating me less like a person and more like a slave. She liked to jab at me with her toes, spit on me, blow her cancer stick smoke in my face, and hold me down with a finger or her foot. Every night, she would tie my wrists and ankles together with dental floss and toss me in her panty drawer.”

Duncan looked up and was shocked to see horror written all over Callie’s face. The poor giantess looked almost on the verge of tears. He stopped listing the horrors he faced while under Natasha’s “care,” unsure how to process Callie’s reaction.

After all, having someone show legitimate concern for him was foreign territory for the maladjusted mini.

“After about a week, she had me picking up her toenail clippings for her,” he said, ultimately deciding to gloss over several of the other details of his time with Natasha. “I ended up stashing one of the sharper ones in my shorts, and I used it to cut through the floss while she was sleeping. She left the drawer just a tiny bit open, so I was able to climb out and escape. It may be that vindictive side you mentioned coming out, but I hope she was kind of pissed.”

Once again, Duncan got quiet. He studied Callie, who seemed to calm down with the happy resolution to his Natasha story. Still, she kept quiet, which felt odd to him, as he’d gotten used to her constant interruptions.

“Well anyway,” he resumed his story, “after … all that, I just kept wandering in this general direction. I wasn’t really sure where I was going until I got here, but when I saw the main door of the apartment building open, I went ahead and let myself in. The guy who used to live in the apartment next to yours was moving out and had his door propped open, so I snuck in to scavenge for food, found a hole in the wall, and that pretty much takes us to now.”

Callie’s eyes went wide.

“But that guy moved out more than a month ago!” she said. “I only saw signs that you were hangin' out here, like, a week ago. Are you saying you’ve been in the walls this whole time?”

Duncan nodded.

“I’ve been spending most of my time scouting,” he said. “The insides of these walls connect to a lot of the other apartments in the building, so I wanted to make sure the person I reached out to wasn’t another psycho. Once I picked you, I tried to leave little signs that I was around. I wanted to see your reaction before I came out, or at least that’s what I told myself. Honestly, it was really just an excuse to put it off. I’ve been sweating this for a while now.”

Callie picked her head up from her resting hands, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“You picked me?” she asked. “And you’re saying that all that stuff I noticed over the past week, you’ve been doing that on purpose?”

Grinning, Duncan gave Callie a thumbs up.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he said. “Of course, being like this for so long, I somehow overlooked the fact that there’s no way anyone would have known that someone my size even exists, let alone is fucking with them.”

Callie lowered her head back atop her knuckles.

“Well, despite that, I’m still flattered,” she said. “But what was so special about me? Or was everyone else around here just super creepy?”

The giant woman’s last question got a chuckle out of Duncan. After taking a minute to recollect himself, he answered the more relevant of her questions.

“You’re almost too nice, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you’re a little desperate,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Desperate about what, I don’t know, but I kind of get the feeling that you can relate to someone like me, even if my desperate isn’t quite the same as yours.”

Callie nodded thoughtfully as Duncan explained his rationale for revealing himself to her. She kept quiet at first, with Duncan waiting patiently for her to process the information.

“So now that we’ve sorted all that out, I’m guessin’ that you want me to get you some help, right?” she asked. “So you can get back to normal?”

Duncan frowned at the suggestion.

“Not at all, actually,” he said. “I mean, where would I even go? I doubt any hospital has seen something like this before, and seeing as how no one has ever heard of people shrinking before, this is either something new to science or something scientists are trying to keep under wraps. Either way, I don’t like what that would mean for me if I went to a lab for help.”

Callie stared at him incredulously.

“Then why do all this?” she asked. “Why do you need me at all?’

Doing his best to give a casual shrug, Duncan hoped that Callie’s massive eyes wouldn’t catch the lump in his throat as he swallowed nervously.

“I thought it might be nice to have a place to go if things get … difficult with some of the other tenants in the building,” he said. “It might also be nice to have a place to scavenge where I don’t have to worry about being mistaken for a mouse or bug.”

But Duncan couldn’t bring himself to admit the real reason for seeking someone out. He wasn’t sure if it was out of pride or fear that he kept to himself that all he really needed from Callie was another person to talk to once in a while, if only to remind him that he’s still human.

“Anyway, if that works for you, I wouldn’t be in your hair too much,” he said. “I’m not trying to burden you with my problems or anything.”

Callie regarded Duncan with a look on her face that he wasn’t sure how to read, perhaps a mixture of curiosity, disbelief, and deep thought.

“That’s totally fine,” she said flatly. “Happy to help.”

Unsure of what was going through his giant hostess’ mind, Duncan decided to take the opportunity to excuse himself.

“Okay, well, good talk then, I guess,” he said. “And speaking of not being in your hair too much, I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on, so I should leave you to it. Thanks for helping me out, and have a good night!”

Duncan turned his back and started walking toward the edge of the table facing the hole in the wall. While he had gotten a bit of a weird vibe from Callie at the end there, he felt like things had gone pretty well. Maybe his concerns had been for nothing. Maybe things were finally starting to ...

“Hey, hold up a sec,” Callie called out, breaking his train of thought.

Duncan stopped dead in his tracks, attempting unsuccessfully to flush a sudden sense of dread from his gut with a quiet sigh.

Here it comes, he thought.

Internally, Duncan was kicking himself for revealing so much of his resourcefulness to this girl. From what he had seen in the past week, it was clear that she was smarter than his previous two captors, despite being a bit younger. After telling her his story, she would surely take extra precautions if she decided to capture him as well.

For a brief moment, he thought about making a break for it, irrational though it would be to do so. He almost laughed aloud as he caught a glimpse of his hole, the closest escape route. He would never make it, not before Callie simply reached out and grabbed him before his feet even reached the table’s edge.

No, whatever came next, Duncan would have to lean into it, at least for now.

“What’s up?” he asked as casually as he could, turning around slowly as he spoke.

Callie lifted her chin from her knuckles, her hands reaching for her lower back as her shoulder blades brushed against the back of her chair. Her fingers massaged her tailbone as her back arched, inadvertently thrusting her bulbous breasts forward.

“Actually,” she said hesitantly, flashing Duncan a nervous smile as she straightened her upper body, “would it be okay i-if … if I picked you up? It was getting a little uncomfortable leaning down like that, and like I said before, it can be kinda hard to hear you from up here sometimes.”

For Duncan, there was nothing okay about being picked up by a giant. As far as he could tell, being lifted in a giant fist was nothing more than a power trip for the women of his new life, a chance to show him just how pathetic he truly was now.

Still, it wasn’t as though he actually had a choice, right?

Heh, hands to herself, Duncan thought. I’m an idiot.

“Sure,” he yelled, secretly hoping that his voice didn’t reach the giantess.

But Callie’s nervous grin quickly curled into a genuine one at his answer, her top row of teeth glistening from between her slightly parted lips. As her hands returned to the table, her left settled in front of her while her right stretched toward Duncan, not even needing to fully extend to reach him.

He fought the urge to step back from the coming fingertips, also keeping his arms straight and at his sides as he cringed in anxious anticipation. He had learned early on that giants frowned upon him trying to keep his arms free in their grasp, preferring him to struggle feebly against the might of their grip.

But Callie’s pink-laced fingernails stopped just short of Duncan. Instead of encircling him eagerly, he looked on in surprise as the giant woman’s hand flipped slowly, upturning to expose her palm to him as a light rapping signaled that her knuckles had touched down on the tabletop. The thickness of her fingertips reached the middle of his shins.

At first, Duncan just stared at the waiting platform laid out before him.

Well, this is new, he thought.

Moving his eyes away from the hand in front of him, Duncan looked up to see Callie still smiling brightly as she waited patiently for him to board. His gaze locked with hers, he raised his right foot cautiously toward her middle finger. Before setting it down, however, he retracted the step.

Not entirely sure on the rules of etiquette for stepping into a woman’s palm, he removed his shoes and socks, setting them to the side. Callie shot him a quizzical look.

“There’s a lot of gunk and … other stuff in the walls,” Duncan shouted to her. “I figured you didn’t want that stuff on you.”

The giantess nodded thoughtfully.

“Appreciate it,” she said.

Duncan stepped into Callie’s hand. An involuntary shiver struck the giant woman as his tiny toes pressed upon her skin for the first time, the quiver flowing from her shoulders to her fingertips and causing the tiny man to stumble, though he maintained his balance after a brief wobbling passed through his legs.

“Sorry,” she said, cringing slightly. “I just didn’t expect you to feel like … well, like that!”

Duncan looked up to respond to the giantess, resuming his pace while speaking. His feet sank slightly into the flesh of her middle and index fingers as he gingerly walked their respective lengths, a foot traveling down each slender digit.

“And what exactly does that feel like?” he asked with a smirk, happy to seize even the smallest advantage against the embarrassed giant now holding him in the palm of her hand.

Staring down at Duncan as he reached the center of her palm, Callie attempted vainly to hide said embarrassment.

“I-I don’t know,” she answered shyly, her face turning a light shade of red. “Like, electric, I guess? It’s kinda intense. Anyway, changing the subject ...”

Slowly, Callie lifted her hand and its small passenger from the tabletop. Despite her best effort, Duncan struggled to stay on his feet. He fell on his butt as the momentum of his ascent ceased with him just below her button nose and roughly a foot away from her awed countenance.

He found himself studied by a pair of hazel eyes larger than his head. Over the edge of her palm, he could see the titaness flash a smug smirk of her own at regaining the upper hand, before her face took on a gentle yet serious look.

“I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to do this alone anymore,” she said softly. “You were just sizing up if you could make it back to your little hole before I grabbed you, right? Well, you never had to worry about that, because I wouldn’t have tried to stop you. Actually, if you want, I can just carry you over there and save you some time. Then I can go back to leaving you food or pretending you don’t exist or whatever you want me to do.”

Callie lifted her gaze from the little man sitting in her hand as she stared vacantly at the small hole. For his part, Duncan continued to listen silently, still deciding what to make of her words as he returned to his feet.

“But I wouldn’t feel good about it,” she said. “And not just because I’d be worried. Although yeah, I’d be pretty worried about you if I knew you were around but couldn’t see you. I know you don’t need me to tell you this, but there’s a lot of trouble you can get into at your size, and I think I’d always be wondering if you were okay.”

Still looking over, rather than at, Duncan, Callie’s fingers absently began to curl inward. Before he could react, the tips of her ring and index fingers each picked a shoulder on which to settle. With the slightest bit of pressure, the fingertips began rubbing with gentle precision. Her middle finger soon joined in, massaging between his shoulder blades in slow, circular swirls.

“It’s because you’re right about me,” she said. “I do feel desperate.”

Callie looked down on the little man with a sad smile. He opened his mouth, whether to protest being fondled or contribute to the conversation he wasn’t sure, but it was all he could do to stifle a pleasurable moan from coming out instead. This didn’t go unnoticed by the giantess, who did her best to hold back a small chuckle before continuing.

“I think I’m about to fail outta school,” she said. “It’s only one class, but I’d have to go an extra semester, and I don’t have the money to do that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know if I have the money to make rent next month.”

Callie paused for a moment to take a slow, deep breath.

“Some asshole wants to screw me over and ruin my fuckin’ life, and there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said. “I’m gonna be in debt the rest of my life with nothin' to show for it. I’ll just end up another 40-something slut sales girl still working at some out-of-date boutique and hitting on guys, like, half my age.”

There was a sense of sorrow in the words of the giantess that pulled Duncan from the calming lull of his massage. Despite any reservations he might have still held about the girl, he was compelled to ease that pain in her voice.

“Uh, you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself, don’t you think?” he asked. “Aren’t you overstressing a bit?”

Callie hesitated for a moment, carefully considering what to say next.

“That’s probably right,” she said sadly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been stressing out about this for months now. The people that want to help me, like my parents, think I’m an idiot who did this to myself, and they can’t do anything for me anyway. And the one person who could actually help me is the one who put in this spot. I’m in this alone. No one’s coming to help me out. And as much as I hate to admit it, that’s all I really want: just someone to show up and say, ‘Here, have some help.’”

Callie’s fingers stopped their massage, flattening back out with the rest of her hand. She raised Duncan level with her eyes.

“Then I met you, and I realized that I don’t have it so bad,” she said. “I feel so guilty for thinking things were hard for me. But I also realized that I can be that person for you, someone who actually needs help. I can’t do anything about my shitty life, but I can help you. And I want to. It would mean a lot to me if you’d let me.”

Duncan wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t doubt Callie’s sincerity, but there were a lot of factors to consider before making any sort of decision.

What exactly does she mean by help? he thought. Obviously I can’t agree to anything without ...

“Okay,” he said before he realized it.

Duncan wanted to clasp his hand over his mouth and take the word back. Did he really just say that? Apparently, there was a part of him that was ready to trust this girl, but it’s not as though he hadn’t been fooled before. He needed to be more careful this time. He had to …

Pulling himself from his thoughts, he glanced at the giant face in front of him. Joy radiated from its countenance, headlined by a grin wider than he was. The tiny man couldn’t help but smile back at the sight.

Fuck it, Duncan thought.

“Are you serious?!” Callie asked excitedly. “I didn’t think you’d actually want my help, especially with everything those bitches did to you. Like, you have no idea how happy I am right now! We can be, like, roomies!”

Roomies? Duncan thought as he chuckled lightly at Callie’s excitement. Well, I guess I could think of worse ways that this could have played out.

As the colossal girl’s mood settled, she gave Duncan a semi-serious look.

“Full disclosure, I didn’t really need to pick you up to hear you,” she said apologetically. “Like, you for real do sound kinda quiet when I’m sitting up all the way, but I can still make out what you’re sayin' just fine, even if you don’t yell. It’s just that, well, I really, really, really wanted to pick you up, but I didn’t think you’d let me if I didn’t have a good excuse. Sorry.”

Duncan felt like he should have been annoyed, but he wasn’t. In fact, just Callie saying she was worried that he wouldn’t let her pick him up went a long way toward removing whatever doubts about her that were still lingering in his mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said.

A sigh of relief escaped Callie’s lips.

“Awesome!” she said. “I figured if we’re gonna be roommates, it’s best to keep things honest between us, ya know?”

Callie started sniffing the air around Duncan.

“Speakin' of, not to be rude, but have you thought about maybe takin’ a bath or something?” she asked. “Not that you’ve had the chance ‘til now, but you look, and smell, like you could really use one!”

Duncan was too excited at the prospect of a bath to even feign an attempt at indigence at Callie’s critques.

“Yeah, that sounds great!” he said. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to clean myself proper.”

Without warning, Callie’s other hand approached Duncan. Rather than grab him however, it also turned palm up as both hands came together. The two hands took on a bowl formation as Duncan slipped down to the bottom, though he managed to keep his feet, one resting on either palm.

“There, that should be a safer way to travel,” Callie giggled. “Now, to the bathroom!”

Duncan saw the world around him blur as Callie began to walk, her speed making it hard for him to discern his surroundings. This wasn’t the first time he had been carried by a giant, but, unfortunately for him, it was the first time he was able to stand freely at the same time.

By Callie’s third step, he lost his balance, faceplanting into the center segment of her right pinkie finger. She took another step as he tried to push himself up, it’s impact being enough to make him abandon the effort and instinctively hug her pinkie for dear life.

“Huh?” Callie said, finally looking down and taking notice of Duncan’s predicament.

The little man could feel his face burning with embarrassment as he heard her laugh lightly overhead.

“This definitely isn’t my best moment,” he said with a nervous laugh, releasing his grip but keeping his back to her. “I guess that was kind of pathetic, huh?”

Duncan finally braved a look at Callie’s face, prepared to accept the smugness most certainly awaiting him there. Instead, he was met by her sweet, innocent smile.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” she said. “We just gotta get used to each other is all. But we’ll get there.”

After receiving an uncertain, almost shy nod from Duncan after he regained his footing, Callie resumed her stride. However, the puny passenger noticed that the pace of their travel had become much more leisurely. Despite the world around him still whizzing by, it was obvious to him that the gargantuan girl had significantly slowed her steps.

The pair made their way beyond the invisible divide separating the kitchen from the apartment’s living room, a heavy layer of tacky dark purple shag carpet meeting linoleum serving as the only line of demarcation between the two rooms. They passed through the living space and traversed a short hallway before finding the bathroom.

The unapologetic smacks of Callie’s bare feet slapping against the tiled bathroom floor reverberated loudly around the narrow room as she took the few short steps to cover the distance between the doorway and the vanity.

Staring into the mirror above the sink, Duncan noticed that his grime-covered face barely managed to poke over the giant woman’s slightly curled fingers, her igloo-sized breasts dwarfing him at his back. He gave a defeated sigh. It had been a while since he had seen such a direct reminder of just how small he had become.

The ride down to the vanity countertop proved to be more smooth than Duncan’s earlier ascent, perhaps due to both of Callie’s hands being involved in gently lowering him back to more solid ground. He hopped off of her fingertips, the coldness of worn cultured marble assaulting the bottoms of his feet upon landing.

“Alright,” Callie said as she contemplatively looked around the room. “The tub is definitely too big for you, so I just need to find ... Hold up! I got it!”

The giant blonde hastily retreated from the bathroom, leaving Duncan stranded on the vanity. He wasn’t left alone long enough to give much thought to his situation, however, as she bounded back into the room less than a minute later, a small rectangular Tupperware container and a wash rag in her hands and a beaming grin on her face.

That grin turned into a slight frown after she set the container next to him.

“Oh, the edge is still a little taller than you,” Callie said, sounding a bit disappointed. “Sorry, but I think this is the best I can do for a tub for now.”

Duncan shot her a reassuring smirk.

“It beats the hell out of showering with the drips from the leaky pipe under your neighbor’s kitchen sink,” he said half-jokingly. “Seriously, this is more than good enough, and I really appreciate it.”

Callie said nothing in response, simply nodding as she set the rag down, reached for the vanity’s sink, and turned on the faucet. After testing the water temperature with her index finger, she quickly filled the container half way and placed it back down next to Duncan.

He reached overhead with both hands and grabbed the top of the container, pulling himself up as his right foot pushed off against the side for a boost. Balancing his midsection against the edge, he leaned down and was just able to touch the water with the tips of his fingers.

“The water feels great!” Duncan said as he let himself fall feet-first back onto the vanity.

Callie looked down on the little man in surprise.

“I guess you don’t need my help gettin’ in then?” she asked.

Duncan shook his head.

“I should be good from here,” he said.

Duncan watched as Callie grabbed two bottles from the nearby bathtub, one body wash and the other shampoo. She carefully squirted a small dab of each along the top edge of the container.

Then she reached for the mirror hovering far above him, pulling it open to reveal a massive cabinet hiding behind it. She pulled something he couldn’t make out from below from the cavernous storage area before addressing him once again.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m gonna go figure out some sorta bed for you. I’ll be back in about 20 minutes to see if you’re done.”

Callie exited the room, her feet no less noisy as she left. Duncan began to undress, looking forward to enjoying the closest thing to a real bath he had experienced in six months.

********

Callie wasted no time in heading for her bedroom closet. She tossed the small bag of cotton balls she had grabbed from the bathroom onto her bed before getting on her knees and starting to dig through the closet.

Come on, she thought. I gotta have something that’ll work in here.

Thinking back on the past hour or so, Callie was still struggling to comprehend the situation. She didn’t understand how a person could just shrink for, like, no reason. She didn’t understand how people could be as cruel as the women her new roommate had come across after he shrank.

Most of all, she didn’t understand how he was still alive or how he was able to function like everything was fine.

If she had gone through half of the stuff he described to her in his story, Callie was sure she would be reduced to a crying mess, balled up in the fetal position, at all times. What’s worse, she was sure that he had left out some of the rougher details of his journey.

She had plenty of questions after Duncan had finished telling his tale, but the truth was that she was too afraid to ask them. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the reality of what his ex had actually done to him, how he had managed to feed himself for those six months, or even where he had slept each night.

Or where exactly he’s gonna sleep here, Callie mentally noted. He’s gonna need …

She stopped mid-thought as her eyes came across an old gray shoe box. She picked it up, its lack of weight conveying emptiness. Opening up the box, she gave its interior a quick sniff, not detecting any stench coming from within.

Callie found herself wondering if Duncan would be insulted at her offering a shoe box as a temporary room. Would it be yet another reminder of how tiny he is. She had noticed that he seemed depressed when he saw the reflection of himself in her hands earlier, even if he only showed it for a brief moment.

It’ll have to do for now, she concluded. It’s the best I got right now, and we can always find something better later.

Having made a decision, Callie started to gather the other materials she needed to complete Duncan’s makeshift shelter.

********

Callie knocked on the bathroom door twice before slowly turning the doorknob. Closing her eyes and covering them with her free hand, she pushed the door slightly ajar and poked her head through the crack.

“You done yet?” she asked.

Listening closely, Callie could barely hear a faint echo in the distance.

“Yeah, you can open your eyes if you want,” Duncan shouted.

Callie dropped her hand and opened her eyes as she stepped into the bathroom. She spotted Duncan standing beside the container, dressed only in damp boxer shorts. It felt a bit awkward, and a part of her wanted her eyes to close once again, but the rest of her refused to listen.

The first thing to stand out to her was how built he was. That’s not to say he had muscles bulging all over his body, but he was certainly more toned than she would have expected, with a six-pack covering his abs and the solid muscles of his arms and legs suddenly more apparent without the distraction of his tattered clothing.

The second thing she noticed were the scars.

As Callie closed the distance between them, she could see the calling cards of several cuts and scrapes long healed but never forgotten. None were as prominent as the one left by Bigsby, but his torso and upper legs were dressed in light scarring, as well as some bruising.

As she reached the vanity, she was at a loss for words. Instead of staring at him, she focused on the stillness of the dark brown, almost mud-like bathwater in the Tupperware container.

“So I decided to clean my clothes while I was at it,” Duncan explained. “I didn’t see the point of cleaning myself and putting those ratty things back on. I left my shirt and shorts out to dry over there and dried off my boxers as best I could.”

Callie looked a few inches to the right of Duncan to see his mostly shredded shirt and ripped up shorts, sopping wet, laid out neatly on the countertop. She tried to focus on them rather than him but couldn’t help but steal another glance at him.

Without the dirt and grime covering his body, as well as his beard and hair being less raggedy, she felt like she could get a better sense of his age, which looked to be just a bit older than her own. She guessed that Duncan was somewhere in his mid-twenties at most.

“Like yeah, that totally makes sense,” Callie said, swiftly averting her eyes and looking to change the subject. “So, uh, what do you want to do now?”

Duncan stretched his arms over his head and let out a soft yawn.

“I was actually thinking of getting some sleep,” he said. “I know its not that late, but I haven’t really had a good night’s sleep in a while, and I’m pretty worn down right now.”

Eager to get out of the uncomfortable situation, Callie hastily lowered her hands for Duncan.

“Y-yeah, no problem!” she said. “Come on!”

This time, Duncan was much faster to climb into her hands, his growing trust melting Callie’s heart. Not to mention the warm yet almost tingly sensation of his little bare feet and tiny toes against her palms. She fought off a pleasurable shiver as he walked, unsure if she wanted her teeny traveler to know just how much she enjoyed holding him.

As she left the bathroom at a more accommodating speed, she saw that Duncan was also handling the trip noticeably better than the previous one. She felt a small smile creep across her lips.

The trek to her bedroom was a short one, it being directly across the hall from the bathroom. Callie walked to the dresser near the foot of her bed and set Duncan down in front of the shoe box from earlier.

“I figured you’d want some privacy, so I gave you your own room!” Callie beamed. “The door’s right over here.”

She pointed to the middle of one of the longer sides of the box. There, carved from the base to roughly three inches upward, was the “door.” She had cut the opening on three sides, leaving one longer side intact to act as a door hinge.

Cautiously, Duncan pushed the door open, stepping into the box. Callie, being curious about his reaction, carefully lifted the lid from the box. He didn’t acknowledge the removal of his ceiling, however, as he kept his eyes on the flattened ball of fabric, which showed the barest hint of the fluffiness it was hiding underneath, in a corner of the otherwise bare room.

“I didn’t think the cotton would be comfortable to sleep on by itself, so I cut a piece of bed sheet and wrapped it up,” she said. “I really tried to find ways to make this feel homey, but I didn’t have a lot of stuff around for that. And I know it’s just a shoe box, but I promise we’ll find …”

Callie stopped herself as Duncan raised a hand and looked over the rim of the box toward her.

“Like I said before, I was sleeping in a hole in the wall for the last month, so this is great, really,” he said. “Thank you.”

Duncan then approached the makeshift bed and fell back-first onto it, letting out a relaxing sigh as he landed.

“Anytime!” Callie said. “I’ll let you get your sleep now. Goodnight!”

Duncan gave a small wave, his eyes already closed as his body settled into a more comfortable position. Callie put the lid back on top of the box and left the room. Heading back down the hallway, her thoughts centered on the tiny man sleeping in a box by the foot of her bed.

Someone actually believes in me, Callie mused. Somebody thinks I’m not worthless.

And I’m gonna prove him right!

She reached the door and put on a pair of sandals she had left waiting there. Grabbing her purse from a nearby end table in the living room, she left the apartment with a newfound sense of determination.

Callie had a lot of work to do.

Chapter End Notes:

Suck it, Daniel Radcliffe!

To the rest of you, thanks for sticking that out! Like pretty much every other writer on this site, I too appreciate feedback, so I'd be grateful any reviews, positive or negative. And if you don't feel like leaving a review, that's cool too. I just hope you found this chapter worth the read.


Callie vs. the Persuasive Professor

Word Count: 12662
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/04/2025
Chapter Notes:

I was pleasantly surprised that no one defended Daniel Radcliffe's honor last chapter. I'm glad we're all on the same page; fuck that guy. He knows what he did.

On a more serious note, remember before the start of the last chapter when I mentioned that some of this story would be "decidedly ungentle"? While there are a couple of places coming that could fit that bill, the first segment of this chapter is what I had in mind when I wrote that and, in fact, it was the very reason I put that warning out there in the first place. So for anyone looking to avoid that kind of stuff, you may want to skip the start of this one. You should be able to figure out what happens in that segment by reading the second segment, which is pretty wholesome, I think.

Speaking of that second segment, for anyone interested, here is the actual song referenced in it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j2eE6UVdVgs

The sound of the front door slamming echoed through the house, waking Duncan from his afternoon nap.

She’s finally back, he thought.

Duncan rolled over on the folded-up handkerchief that was his bed, the rough edges of the cheap hamster bedding beneath jabbing at his left side. He winced just a bit, but he was starting to get used to it. After three days at this size, he was almost frightened by how quickly he had adapted to living in a cage.

Well, other than the smell, that is.

He had designated the corner he would use to relieve himself pretty early on. But by the middle of the second day in his new home, he found that not even burying his waste in untouched bedding was enough to suppress the stench. Maybe it would work if they had used higher-quality bedding, but Kristie had insisted that it wasn’t worth the added expense.

“Hey D, what’s up?” a voice came from the hallway just outside the bedroom door. “Well, other than everything for you.”

Duncan just sighed at the comment.

Everyday with that fucking joke, he laughed to himself. She could at least come up with some new material.

A woman looking of Korean descent stepped through the bedroom door, her straight black hair tied up in a lengthy pony tail. She kicked off a pair of black high heels, sending them scattering about the floor. She glanced at the cage with a smile before heading to her dresser across the room.

“Not much, babe, like usual,” Duncan said, returning his girlfriend’s smile despite her back already being turned. “How was your day?”

By the time the question came, Kristie had already stripped out of her pencil skirt, blouse, and pantyhose and was slipping on a pair of jean shorts and a worn out Green Day t-shirt. Once she had completed her transition into more comfortable clothing, she made her way to the cage, beginning her answer to his question along the way.

Kristie went on about her workday, focusing mostly on office gossip and that bitch Tammy Smithers. Duncan had never met Tammy, or anyone at the office where Kristie worked for that matter, but she sure sounded like a bitch whenever Kristie talked about her. And, being a good boyfriend, he felt compelled to side with his girl.

Finally, after 15 minutes or so, Duncan finally found an opening in the conversation.

“Hey babe, sorry to interrupt, but do you think maybe we can go ahead and change the bedding today?” he asked. “It’s really starting to stink in here.”

Kristie leaned over the cage and sniffed twice.

“Nah, I don’t smell anything, so it should be good,” she said. “Besides, when I had a hamster as a kid, I only changed this stuff once a week.”

Duncan bit his tongue. He wasn’t a hamster, and even they usually got their bedding changed more than once a week. Not to mention the fact that his nose was much closer to the smell than hers. But he knew that there was no point in arguing with her when she got like this. He would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

But maybe a change in subject would bring about a better result.

“And while we’re talking about the cage, do you really think the padlock is necessary?” Duncan asked.

Kristie grabbed the padlock attached to the latch on the cage’s lone door, looking at it absently as she rattled it against the bars, causing him to take a few steps back.

“I told you, I can’t have you getting out. There’s too many bad things that can happen to you at that size, D,” she said. “I still have no idea how you managed to get that latch open on your own.”

Duncan lowered his head.

“I just needed to get out of here for a bit,” he said quietly. “Being in here so much just gets to me sometimes.”

Kristie’s incisors pressed into the full lower lip, their brightness made all the more apparent by her dark red shade of lipstick.

“If I’m being totally honest,” she said, “you in that cage—the hottest you’ve ever been.”

Duncan couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate the thought, but that stuff is the last thing on my mind right now,” he said, gesturing to himself. “I really need to figure out what to do about this before I worry about anything else.”

Kristie let loose a condescending chuckle.

“Oh, just let me worry about that stuff, D,” she said. “That’s more of a big person thing to take on. I mean, what do you think tiny little you is going to figure out at that size, anyway?”

It hurt, but Duncan knew she was right. He had always loved that blatant honesty of hers, even when he hated it. It was how he knew he could always trust her.

Besides, he couldn’t exactly argue with her. There was no way he could possibly survive on his own at this size, let alone figure out how to fix it.

“You’re right, babe,” he answered, hesitating before bringing up his next question. “I know we agreed on no hospitals or anything like that, but have you thought of anyone else we might reach out to?”

Kristie glared at him through the bars of his cage.

“And who exactly do you want me to call?” she sneered. “Maybe your family … oh wait, what family? You haven’t talked to the Brenadines since high school, right?”

Duncan, shoulders slumped, felt crestfallen by the truth behind Kristie’s words.

“It’s not like they were your real family anyway,” she continued. “And they haven’t exactly been busting your door down to talk to you either. Heh, they don’t even know where your door is!”

Kristie’s face broke into a dark grin as she saw the effect her words were having on Duncan.

“Ooh, I know,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about I just give Ms. Icy Bitch a call and let her know why you haven’t been to work the last few days. Maybe she’ll even take you in. Would you like that, being your boss’ pet?”

The prospect of being the property of Monica Shale, control-freak extraordinaire, was a terrifying one for Duncan. He could only shake his head vigorously as he sat down, staring at his knees as he brought them into his chest.

Kristie’s face softened as she studied her belittled boyfriend, a mixture of sympathy and regret taking the place of the gleeful spite it wore seconds before.

“Come on, now,” she said. “You know I don’t like being like this, but I need you to understand, and I mean really understand, that I’m all you have, same as always.”

Kristie managed to barely squeeze her right index finger between the meshed bars of the cage, stretching it just far enough for the tip to raise Duncan’s chin and make eye contact with the puny prisoner.

“So no more complaining, alright?” she said. “And definitely no more of this bullshit about looking for someone else to take care of you. All this bitching from you makes me think you don’t appreciate me.”

Duncan found himself lost in the dim gray iris of one of Kristie’s big almond-shaped eyes as she leaned in for a closer look at him. A feeling of warm comfort washed over him, the vibrant passion behind her stare reminding him of why he fell in love with the gargantuan girl.

Yeah, she can come off like a jerk sometimes, he thought, but it’s just her feelings coming on too strong. She doesn’t mean anything by it.

As Duncan continued to reflect on Kristie’s words, he started to wonder if maybe she was right. Maybe he was being ungrateful. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to survive the outside world on his own like this! How could he have been such an asshole to not appreciate what his loving girlfriend had done for him, to even suggest that he should trust someone else besides just her?

After all, she was the only person in the world that he could trust.

“Hmm,” Kristie said, breaking Duncan from his thoughts. “Things have been pretty stressful for us lately. Maybe we just need to take the edge off, huh?”

Kristie withdrew her finger from the cage, lowering her hand below the desk. It rose back above the wooden horizon a few seconds later, a small key clenched between its fingers. She unlocked the padlock on the cage door, then opened the door itself and reached inside.

Duncan had barely returned to his feet by the time her hand was upon him. The soft flesh enveloped him entirely before he felt her pinkie maneuver under his feet and shove his head and shoulders through a small hole formed by her curved index finger and thumb. He quickly lifted his arms through the hole as well, but the finger and thumb spread apart, tucking his arms back into her fist as they came together once more.

The little man’s stomach lurched as Kristie hastily removed her prize from his cage and stood to her full height. As she began walking toward her bed, she dropped her arm to the side and let it sway with her eager stride. It was all Duncan could do to keep down the breadcrumbs his gargantuan girlfriend left in his food dish for him that morning, riding a wave of nausea as he swung with the pendulum-like movements.

With a squeal of delight, Kristie jumped onto her bed, stretching her legs down its length as her butt crashed into the plush comforter covering her mattress. Her back leaned into a stack of fluffy pillows resting along the bed’s oak headboard.

“Ah,” she sighed. “Much better. Now come hither.”

Before Duncan’s insides could recover from the impact of Kristie’s rough landing, his stomach turned over again as he was raised just in front of the rounded tip of her small nose. She stared down at him silently, her eyes alight with impish intent, that warmth he had found in them earlier completely absent.

He began to wonder if it had ever really been there or if it had been a lie from the start.

“Wh-what are you doing, babe?” he asked.

Kristie answered her little lover with a smug smirk.

“Something I’ve wanted to do since I turned around and found you tiny on my doorstep,” she answered. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it, too.”

The giantess adjusted her grip on Duncan, partially opening her fingers so that she had a clear view of his front. The tips of her fingers pressed firmly into his right side, while his left slid to just beneath the base of her thumb. While he didn’t know how she planned to go about it, he recognized the look in her eyes and the tone in her voice.

Kristie wanted to fuck.

This was the last thing Duncan needed. He was in no condition, physically or mentally, for sex at the moment. He knew he had to put a stop to this and do it quickly.

“Like I said before, I’m just not feeling it right now. Sex, I mean,” he said. “I-I’m still getting used to being like ... well, like this. Maybe we can try some other time?”

Kristie’s smirk expanded into a full-blown Cheshire Cat grin. Her free hand came into view as her fingers gripped the right pantleg of Duncan’s shorts and slowly pulled them down his tiny legs. Discarding the shorts on the bed, the fingers came back for his boxer shorts.

Duncan began to squirm and kick his legs as best he could, but his sides only dug deeper into the quicksand-like fingertips holding him in place as their grip tightened around him. He kept fighting nonetheless, anger over being ignored overtaking his nerves in the heat of the moment.

“What the fuck, Kristie?!” he shouted. “Give me my damn shorts back! I already told you I’m not ready yet!”

The playful mischief faded from Kristie's face, replaced by stern, serious features. Duncan stopped fighting, a chill running through his soul as his girlfriend's eyebrows shifted inward in annoyance.

"Duncan," she said. "We're doing this. Whether you have fun or pout about it is up to you."

Duncan stopped struggling. He opened his mouth to speak but he simply couldn't find the right words. Or any words, for that matter. It was all he could do to keep his body's terrified quivering from overtaking him entirely.

He wouldn't let her see his fear.

After a moment of silence shared between the two, Kristie flashed an arrogant smile. If she noticed the quaking emanating from the little naked man trapped in her fingers, she wasn't acknowledging it.

"Good," she said in a perky voice. "Now that that's all worked out, it's time to play!"

With careless haste, Kristie removed Duncan’s shirt and boxers, leaving the little man in her hand completely naked. Pursing her lips together in concentration, her thumb glided over Duncan's torso, touching down at his crotch. He noticed how the pad of the pudgy digit dwarfed his waistline as it began to rub against the limp shaft of his cock.

“Come on, come on,” she muttered in tone that reminded Duncan of someone trying to start a stalling vehicle. “Wake up, buddy.”

Duncan tried to think of anything other than the stimulation at his crotch. The feeling of betrayal at his gigantic girlfriend violating him, as well as the accompanying embarrassment, was enough to keep him soft. At first. However, once she increased the pace of her careless assault, friction won the day.

“Yes! Got it!” she said.

Kristie ignored the pained groans her rough play was eliciting out of the tiny toy in her fingers. Feeling him at full mast, she stopped rubbing his shaft, her thumb finding its way to his tip. With the flick of a thumb, she moved his erection up and down, back and forth, and in circles.

"Hey, this is pretty fun!" she said. "It's sorta like working a Joy-Con stick. Only waaaay smaller."

Kristie was merciless as she traced random shapes and designs with Duncan’s hard cock.

"St-stop," he said, barely a whisper.

Surprisingly, Kristie did.

“That’s enough teasing, I suppose,” she said. “It’s time to take care of this teeny tiny D in my hand.”

Laughing at her own joke, Kristie moved her free hand toward Duncan’s now fully erect and fully sore penis. The pads of her thumb and index finger swallowed his elongated shaft. She started grinding them together, tugging up and down on it with random yanks.

Overwhelmed by an intense blend of pleasure and pain, he tried to push her fingers away, forgetting that his arms were pinned to his sides. He knew it would have been useless anyway, but he couldn’t accept that this was happening to him, that he could do nothing to stop it, that his girlfriend was the one doing this to him. Could he even call her that anymore?

Kristie’s giggling from above answered that question for him. As she alternated the speed of her rubbing fingertips, slowing down and speeding up the pace on a whim, he realized that she was truly enjoying this. This was fun for her. She was stripping what little dignity he had left and reminding him that he was nothing more than a toy for her to play with.

And the worst part was that, the longer this went on, the more he was losing himself in his disgusting lust.

Just as Duncan was about to finish, the fingers parted, leaving him both relieved and frustrated. She looked down on him, grinning wildly as he calmed down. He hadn’t realized how hard or fast he had been breathing, but now he noticed his lungs greedily sucking in air. And while he remained hard, he could feel that he was no longer ready to burst after a few minutes of waiting.

Without a word, Kristie raised him to her lips. She must have felt him trying to free his arms earlier, because she loosened her hold just enough for him to move them again. Then she sandwiched his cock between those thick lips. That his head didn’t even reach the inside of her mouth was yet another blow to the tiny man’s shattered ego.

But Duncan didn’t have time to worry about that. He took advantage of his newfound mobility, pushing, punching, and even pinching her top lip in an attempt to stop her. His efforts were rewarded with a closed-lipped laugh from his captor, his insides rattling violently at her voice alone.

Then came Kristie’s tongue. Parting the inside of her lips, it homed in on his cock almost instantly. The tip of the monstrous muscle slipped above his head and shaft then below them, all while oscillating at a merciless tempo, it’s rough bumps teasing and torturing him simultaneously as they grazed across his manhood at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings.

Please, Duncan failed to cry out, no longer certain what he was asking for.

Four parts Fear, three parts anger, five parts sadness, two part lust, and six parts guilt: Duncan forced down a bitter cocktail of overwhelming emotion, its ingredients mixing together to produce an intoxicating shame he had never felt before. He didn’t know what to do or say.

For a brief glimpse in time, he truly didn’t know if he wanted this to stop.

And it was only as he came between her lips that he truly realized that he was forever changed.

As Kristie pulled him away from her face to admire her handiwork, Duncan kept his head down, doing his best to conceal the silent tears flowing freely from his eyes. He couldn’t look at her anyway. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to face anyone ever again.

“Hey!” Kristie yelled, nearly deafening the tiny thing between her fingers. “Don’t be dozing off on me now, D. If I knew you were going to try and pull that shit, I would have went first.”

Unfortunately, looking down meant that Duncan was already staring at Kristie’s free hand working the button on her shorts. She arched her back and lifted her butt from the bed as she slid her shorts and black panties down her legs at the same time, kicking them off her ankles and over the side of the bed.

Then he glided over her upper body as her hand moved him over her firm, round breasts and taut stomach toward her trimmed pussy.

Kristie’s free hand pulled her lower lips apart to receive him, and Duncan could only scream hysterically for her to stop as he stared into the dark abyss waiting between them.

********

Callie cracked her bedroom door open and crept into the room, tailor’s tape measure in-hand. She placed as little weight into her steps as possible as she approached Duncan’s makeshift room. She had just returned to the apartment an hour after he went to bed, so she was sure he was asleep by now, and the last thing she wanted to do was wake him.

It was when she was halfway between the door and the shoe box that she first heard the screams.

Callie rushed over to Duncan’s box, flipping the lid open in a panic. She was surprised to see him still asleep, although he was twisting and turning on his cotton-ball mattress. He continued to scream, and now she could see that he was crying through closed eyelids as well.

She wasted no time nudging his back gently with her right index and middle fingers in an attempt to pull him out of what was clearly a terrible nightmare. After the first prod, she heard him mumble a single word between his terrified shrieks: Kristie.

Kristie, isn’t that his ex’s name? Callie wondered. What the fuck did that bitch do to him to make him scream like that?

It took more three pokes, the last one with just a tad more force behind it, before the little man’s torso shot up from the bed, his eyes wide open. The screaming didn’t stop, however, and he pushed himself back against the wall behind him. The violent movements also intensified, his body slamming into the two walls meeting at the nearest corner.

“Can’t breathe!” Duncan screamed between coughing fits. “Let me out!”

Her hand already in the box, Callie wasted no time in lifting him out of it. But her grip on him was forced to tighten as his thrashing didn’t stop. It took a few minutes of fruitless assurances that he was okay for her to realize that he was actually still asleep.

A part of her couldn’t help but enjoy the way Duncan’s body desperately squirmed in her fingers, completely restrained within her fist with minimal effort on her part. She tried to ignore that feeling, reminding herself that she was only holding him for his own safety and that she would never do this against his will.

Callie tried to force her thoughts back toward how she could best help Duncan, but she became distracted again when she felt his erection poking against the inside of her hand. Not only that, but she could tell that the front of his boxers were wet as well. The piss she understood, given how terrified he seemed to be, but why was he so hard? What was it about whatever it was he was seeing that could be remotely sexual, unless—

That’s not piss, she realized.

The pieces began to come together in Callie’s mind. Why Duncan was struggling so intensely. Why he was coughing so much. Why he was so hard despite obviously being terrorized by memories past. Even that faraway look he had on his face when he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about what he went through with that Kristie woman.

And just like that, Callie knew exactly what Duncan’s ex had done to him.

“How … how could she …” she stuttered, struggling to keep her emotions in check. “How could anyone …”

With a few deep breaths, Callie pushed down the upsetting emotions bubbling up inside her. She had to focus on calming the half-conscious tiny down before he hurt himself. She brought the hand holding him toward her chest, cupping it and sandwiching him between her palm and the top of her exposed left breast. Rocking her hips in a soothing rhythm, she lifted her index finger and rubbed his neck and upper back with its tip.

Still she could feel Duncan’s sleeping form struggling against her skin. Unsure what else to do, she began to sing in a hushed, melodic voice:

“Sometimes I get so sad.

Sometimes you just make me mad.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.


Sometimes I just won’t go.

Sometimes I can’t say no.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.


Sometimes days go speeding past.

Sometimes this one seems like the last.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.

It’s a sad and beautiful world.”

By the time Callie finished the song, Duncan’s eyes were closed again and his body was calm and still. She was slow to pull him away from her chest as she continued to sway gently to the tune still playing in her head. Finally, she willed herself to separate from him, holding him in her fist about a foot in front of her chest.

I guess this as good a time as any, she thought.

Callie opened her fingers, with Duncan laying against her exposed palm. She took the tailor’s tape measure in her free hand and rolled a portion of it out to measure his height, something she had been curious about since she first saw him on her kitchen counter earlier in the week.

Two and seven-eighths inches, she noted in her head. Shit, he’s, like, really, really small.

Callie manipulated Duncan’s body with her fingers as she took various measurements of his body, taking care not to disturb his sleep as she did so. She felt a bit guilty about handling him in such a way, as well as how much she found herself enjoying it, but she knew her intentions were pure and figured the end result would definitely be worth it.

After finishing with all the necessary measurements, she lowered her hand to his bed and carefully rolled him off her fingers and back onto it. She couldn’t help but smile down on him brightly as she watched him sleep peacefully for a few minutes before placing the lid back on the shoe box.

********

Duncan woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time.

He sat up and stretched, then got out of bed. With no clothes to put on, he made his way through the shoe box door in his boxers. The first thing that he noticed was that Callie’s bed was already made.

Is she up already, Duncan asked himself. I mean, I guess I don’t know what time it is, but I’m surprised she was up before me when I went down first. Side note: Callie, get a damn alarm clock in your room like a normal person.

The next order of business was finding his way down. Looking down the front of the dresser, he determined that climbing down that way would be tricky but doable. Turning around, however, he found a much easier option in the form of a lamp.

It didn’t take Duncan long to climb down the lamp’s cord and make the short jump from the electrical outlet to the thinly carpeted floor. He silently gave thanks that most of the apartment didn’t share the living room’s “exotic” taste in carpeting. He hadn’t tried it yet, but he was pretty sure walking through that shag would be anything but fun.

A ten-minute brisk jog across the bedroom floor and down the hallway led him into that field of purple shag. As he worked his way through it, he looked into the kitchen, where he saw Callie sitting at the card table with her head laying atop it. On the side of her opposite him, he saw the top of a white building-sized object poking out from behind her head.

A thunderously loud, yet somehow still petite snore rained down from above as well, something Duncan couldn’t help but find cute despite its incredible volume.

He arrived at the nearest table leg after another five minutes of walking, the shag slowing his pace before reaching the kitchen tile. The legs of the table bent and curled inward midway up, their joints meeting near the table’s center.

Duncan began his climb, wrapping his arms as far around the closest leg as he could. While pulling himself up, he quickly realized that his bare skin gave him much more traction against the cold metal. Of course, it also became more painful as that exposed flesh stuck against the metal, but he concluded that the trade-off was worth it.

“Hey Duncan, remember when you used to be afraid of heights,” he laughed to himself, a habit he had picked up in the past half year. “Oh, you mean back when a four-foot fall wouldn’t kill me? No I don’t, Duncan, no I don’t.”

Duncan kept climbing until he reached the underside of the table itself. He had come to familiarize himself with the various slides and latches for the retractable legs over the past week. Using them to get to the edge of the table was never what he would call easy.

Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun with it.

Hand-over-hand, Duncan moved along one of the table slides, his legs dangling toward what he had no doubt would be a fatal drop roughly eighty feet below. But he moved with grace and confidence, swinging to build momentum as he let go and propelling himself to a latch a few feet in front of him. After grabbing the latch, he even did a couple pull-ups, showing off to no one in particular.

Back to normal size goal number two: Win America Ninja Warrior, he mused as he kept moving. Huh, maybe I should start a list. Although, I guess I wouldn’t be able to read it if I ever get back to normal.

Duncan halted his progress, hanging from a latch near the edge of the table. His last thought repeated in his head:

If I ever get back to normal.

For the first time since the first few days after shrinking, Duncan was able to actually ponder the possibility of returning to his old life. Most of the past six months had been about survival, and any passing thought he had about finding help and fixing his size was pushed away after Natasha turned on him.

But now, with the constant struggle to stay alive seemingly behind him, at least for the time being, he could start to think about if and how he might reclaim his old 5’9” height. As Duncan resumed his swinging toward the table’s edge, he exhaled a relaxing sigh, releasing months of stress in a single breath.

He finally made his way to the edge of the table, switching his grip on the nearby latch and rotating his body 180 degrees in order to grab the ledge and pull himself up.

Don’t get too comfortable here, Duncan told himself as he climbed onto the tabletop. This girl seems super nice, but you’ve been fooled before.

As his feet enjoyed finding solid ground again, he took in the sleeping giant to his left. He hadn’t noticed from the ground, but he could now see that she was wearing the same clothes she had on last night. She was using her left forearm as a pillow, and a relatively tiny pile of drool was pooled in front of her mouth.

Duncan was also able to figure out what that white structure was, despite Callie’s pretty face blocking the bottom half of it from view.

Is that a sewing machine? he asked himself. I wouldn’t have guessed that she would have one of those, let alone know how to use it.

Turning his attention to the rest of the table, he noticed three sets of clothing, all scaled to his size, strewn about. The one closest to him was a white shorts and beige t-shirt combination. He walked over and picked up the shirt, which he determined was made from cotton fabric. It was pretty close to store quality, in his estimation.

Before he could move on to the shorts or the other articles of clothing, he heard Callie stirring behind him. He turned around in time to see her sit up.

“Duncan?” she said. “When did you get here?”

Duncan explained that he had just woken up about twenty minutes prior and that he made his way over after seeing her sitting at the table. He saw her eyes move from him to the shirt he was holding.

“So they don’t really make doll clothes in your size,” she said. “They must think there’s no market for toys like that. I’d say there’d be some interest, though. Like, you look like you’d be fun to play wi—”

Callie attempted to suck the words back into her mouth with a sharp gasp, slapping her right hand over her mouth to keep any other embarrassing words from finding their way out. Her shimmering copper eyes studied Duncan nervously from above as she tried to gauge his reaction to her degrading slip up.

Duncan knew alarm bells should have been going off in his head. The thought that Callie had even considered that he might be “fun to play with” should have been an unsettling one. The reality that she could, at any moment, simply pluck him off the table and do exactly that should have terrified him.

That’s why he couldn’t understand why he was smiling.

“Callie, what is all this?” he asked, electing to ignore the awkward situation entirely, instead focusing on all of the items sized to him on the table.

The giant-sized blonde’s relief was obvious as she dropped her hand from her lips, revealing that their pink gloss had started to fade. Her thin, slightly curved eyebrows relaxed as the tension left her face. The rosy blush glowing on her cheeks remained, however.

“That’s what I was saying,” she said, just a little faster than normal. “Last night, I was thinkin’ that you only had the one pair of clothes and those are all ripped and stuff. So like, I remembered that I still had my mom’s old sewing machine here, so I said to myself, ‘Self, you gotta help this man out,’ cuz that’s what roomies do for each other, right? Right. So anyway, I made a quick trip to the craft shop and picked up a few things and then I came back here and of course I got right to work and then I kinda got locked into what I was doin’ and …”

Callie paused her rant as she saw Duncan stretch his right arm toward her and put his right index finger straight up, palm side facing her.

“Wait,” he said, holding the finger in place for a few seconds before lowing it. “Okay, my brain’s all caught up. Go.”

The redness started to fade from her face, but she still had a meek, almost nervous look about her.

“I made you some clothes, although I passed out before I got to your boxers,” she said. “And I made a real bed for you. Well, as real as I could do.”

Duncan put on the shorts and shirt he had been examining before. They were so comfortable! He couldn’t believe she had put so much effort into this for him. How could she make something that looked and felt so good by hand?! How long did it take for her to get all the little details just right?

“Wait, did you say a bed?” he asked.

Callie bit her lower lip and nodded. She reached over a shopping bag Duncan hadn’t previously paid attention to, picking up a toy bed frame and setting it down in front of him. She repeated this procedure with something that looked a lot like a real mattress.

He could tell the frame had been altered, although he doubted the cut marks and tiny bits of dried glue were noticeable to someone Callie’s size. The middle had been cut out and glued back together to fit his proportions. The legs had also been cut evenly and glued to the feet so that he could crawl into and out of bed with no difficulty.

Normally not one to get worked up, Duncan surprised himself as he ran toward the mattress and leaped into the air, allowing himself to fall into it. His body sank just a little and the mattress even had a slight bounce to it. The balance between firm and soft was exactly how her preferred.

“This is a real mattress,” he said, unable to keep the excitement out his voice. “How the fuck did you make a real mattress?!”

Upon seeing Duncan’s reaction, Callie ditched the nervous expression, grinning from ear to ear. She happily told him how she used a combination of foam padding, cotton, a thin piece of plywood, and tiny springs she removed from several mechanical pencils to put the mattress together. She then cut out a patch of one of her bed sheets to cover it, using a paper clip beneath the mattress to hold it in place.

Duncan stared up at her in stunned silence. No one had ever done something like that for him before, devoted so much thought to something for him. He didn’t know how to react. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let himself cry, no matter how hard the tears were pushing against the backs of his eyes.

“Th-thank you,” he said. “I don’t know what to say.”

Somehow, Callie’s smile got even bigger. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a wind chime noise coming from her phone. She glanced down at it and the smile was gone.

“It’s 2:45 already?!” she exclaimed. “Shit, I’m gonna be late!”

Callie hurriedly rose from her seat and took two steps toward the door before turning around. She ran to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a package of lunch meat.

“This okay for lunch?” she asked.

Duncan nodded, and Callie set a slice of the meat in front of him. She hastily made her way to the door, slipped on her sandals, said goodbye, and left, grabbing neither a textbook nor her backpack. He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Maybe she wouldn’t need them?

He helped himself to a handful of lunch meat. Glancing into the living room, he saw a textbook laying on the coffee table in front of the couch, although he couldn’t make out what subject it was for from that far away. With nothing better to do, he made his way back down to the floor and headed for the table.

Duncan reached the top of the table in about twenty minutes’ time, as he traveled at a leisurely pace. He was in no rush. Climbing on top of the paperback textbook, he could see that it was of a crude design, obviously not put together by a major company. Then he saw the name of the book and felt his skin crawl:

Advanced Business and Statistical Analysis and You by Carlton Stillwell.

A sneer involuntarily overtook Duncan’s face.

That asshole is writing his own textbook now? he wondered. That’s so fucking typical of him. I bet it reads like shit, too.

Duncan stepped off the cover and grabbed its lower right corner, lifting it over his head and walking toward the spine of the book to open it. He read through the opening pages, using this method to turn them. It didn’t take long for him to conclude that the book did, in fact, read like shit. Stillwell always went out of his way to make his classes complicated in Duncan’s opinion, so he wasn’t surprised to see his book written in the same obtuse, confusing style.

After glancing through the first few pages, Duncan turned to a page that was saved with a folded piece of paper. With writing on both sides of the paper, he was able to see that it was the class syllabus. Curious, he unfolded it and looked it over, noticing that this was the class she was heading to now and that she had it on Mondays and Wednesdays as well.

So she has to deal with that piece of shit three days a week, he thought. Man, I feel really sorry fo

The dots suddenly started to connect for Duncan. He remembered the times he had seen Callie come home, at about that very time, clearly disturbed, sometimes crying her eyes out. He thought back to his own experience with Professor Stillwell, reminding himself of the disgust and disdain he held for the man.

And just like that, Duncan knew exactly why Callie had such a hard time on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons.

********

Jesus, Callie, Callie thought. “Fun to play with?” What the fuck’s wrong with you?

She had been thinking back on her last conversation with Duncan for more or less the entire five-minute jog to campus. She couldn’t understand what made her say that in the first place. Or what she even meant by it.

Worse, Callie was worried that she may have undone all the progress she had made with Duncan. He’d been a bit skittish the previous night, not that she could blame him after everything he had been through. She could only imagine what he thought of her now, after basically calling him a toy.

He had to be pissed, right? Or maybe scared of her? Does he now think of her the same way he thinks of her?

That was the weirdest part: He just smiled and pretended like she didn’t almost say maybe the most offensive thing you could say to someone his size. Did he just not realize what she what she was about to say?

Or maybe he’s into it, Callie wondered with a cheeky smile before shaking the thought away. Where the fuck did THAT come from?

However, before she could delve deeper into that rabbit hole, she froze. Right in front of her were the double doors to room 1110, the lecture hall hosting her advanced business and statistical analysis class. In her rush to get there, she had completely forgotten about where it was she was going.

Callie looked herself up and down, her stomach sinking as she realized that she wasn’t wearing her usual combination of sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt. Yesterday’s outfit showed off way too much skin for this class.

Shit, shit, shit! she thought, taking a deep breath. It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll just sneak into the back row, and maybe he won’t even notice me.

Another deep breath and Callie gently pushed the left door open just enough for her to slip through. She could hear Professor Stillwell droning on about prescriptive analyses and various details on analytic modeling as she snuck into the closest seat in the back row of the amphitheater-style lecture hall, keeping her head down in an effort to avoid notice.

While situating herself in her seat, she reached for her backpack, only to realize that she had left it at the apartment as well. She choked down a frustrated groan. Now she didn’t have a textbook or notebook to bury her face in. Pushing down the building dread in her gut, she decided to chance a look at her professor, who seemingly hadn’t taken a breath as he continued to lecture the class.

Callie looked up from the slide-out desk built into the left armrest of her seat, only to be met by Professor Stillwell focusing right on her as he spoke to the class.

She quickly lowered her eyes back to her desk, pretending to write in something. After a few minutes, she looked up again to see the professor glancing around the lecture hall as he continued to teach. She tried to pay attention to the lecture, but just as she had settled her accelerated heart rate, her eyes met his again, causing her to look away.

For the better part of an hour, he played this game with her, just like he did every session. She couldn’t comprehend how, in a class of 145 students, no one else ever seemed to notice the creepy looks he kept giving her. Maybe they just didn’t care. Or maybe they blamed her.

At the end of class, Professor Stillwell gave the students the next reading assignment and dismissed them. Callie got up right away, prepared to make a beeline for the door.

“Ms. Voss,” the professor called out. “A moment, please.”

Callie stopped before she had taken her first step toward the door. She closed her eyes tight and squeezed her fists at her sides in an effort to calm her nerves. Once she opened her eyes and relaxed her hands, she turned to face Professor Stillwell, who was just finishing a jog up the stairs toward her.

“I’m certainly delighted to see you feeling more comfortable this afternoon, Ms. Voss,” he said.

Callie gave the professor a questioning look.

“Comfortable?” she asked.

Professor Stillwell held eye contact with Callie, flashing her an unsettling grin as he spoke.

“Yes, I’ve been most concerned about your attire in this class,” he said.

As Callie struggled to look away from the intense stare of her professor, she noticed his dark green eyes flick downward, taking in her exposed body in a fraction of a second before coming back up to meet hers once again. It happened so fast that she almost wasn’t sure that it had actually happened, but watching his creepy grin grow just a tiny bit wider was all the confirmation she needed.

She scrunched her body inward, slouching and crossing her arms at chest level in a vain attempt to hide as much of her revealed flesh as possible.

“Even in this warmer weather, you always seem to be so cold, dressing in such heavy clothing,” Professor Stillwell said. “For the past month, I’ve taken the liberty of elevating the classroom’s temperature by five degrees a half hour before class, for your benefit of course. I’m relieved to see that doing so has finally paid off.”

Callie shivered at the words “paid off.” The lecture hall had seemed warmer to her lately, but she attributed that to wearing sweats to class despite the warm early spring weather. To hear the real reason for this only added to the uneasy feeling creeping up her spine.

“Yeah, it … I-I’ve just been feeling this … chill in class,” she said.

Finally able to break the hold Professor Stillwell’s stare had on her, Callie’s own gaze immediately retreated down to the ground.

“Well, again, I’m just happy that you seem to have gotten over that now,” he said, pausing briefly before continuing. “Ms. Voss, have you given any more thought to what we discussed after your first exam?”

Callie dropped her right arm to her side, rubbing it just above the elbow with her left hand. She still couldn’t bring herself to look up at the professor.

“You mean about your office hours?” she asked.

Of course, Callie already knew the answer to that question.

“Yes,” Professor Stillwell said. “Your performance on that exam was obviously less than ideal. A 45% simply isn’t going to get you through this class. Speaking frankly, I’m downright flummoxed that you haven’t been by to see me as of yet.”

Without warning, the professor took another step forward, putting just inches between him and Callie. The sudden movement pulled her attention away from the floor with a slight gasp. His sinister smile melted into a menacing frown and his voice lowered to just above a whisper as he addressed her once more.

“I don’t exactly make this offer to just any student,” Professor Stillwell said. “You’re really quite fortunate that I’m willing to go to such lengths to assist you. It just pains me to see one such as you waste their … potential.”

Callie turned her head to her right side, again finding it difficult to look at the professor.

“I understand,” she said.

A knowing smirk replaced Professor Stillwell’s threatening countenance.

“Good then,” he said. “Remember that I’m willing to work around your schedule, Ms. Voss. I believe I’ve already given you my personal number?”

The professor didn’t bother waiting for a response, his right arm barely brushing against Callie’s as he walked by her and through the lecture hall entryway. She found that she couldn’t will herself to move right away, a slight tremble leaving her knees feeling weak.

After taking several slow, deep breaths to regain her composure, she managed to leave the lecture hall as well. For the entirety of the walk back to the apartment, she kept replaying the conversation with Professor Stillwell in her head, becoming more disgusted with herself each time.

That dirty feeling was still permeating throughout Callie’s body as she unlocked her apartment door. She took a few distracted steps into the living room as she closed the door behind her, not bother to remove her sandals. She glanced over at the tiny clothing, sewing equipment, and still mostly intact slice of lunch meat on the kitchen table, her thoughts drifting back to her little roommate, breaking through her gloom with an involuntary smile.

That smile faded as soon as it came, however, as she realized that Duncan himself wasn’t on the table. A wave of horror washed over her as she realized that had no idea where he was in the apartment that she was so carelessly stomping through.

Callie tried to stop mid-step, but her left foot had already started to come down.

********

Duncan had just finished climbing down from the coffee table and making his way back to the kitchen when the apartment door opened.

The first thing he noticed about Callie as she stepped through the door was her sullen expression. It had always saddened him when she came back in such a state from her three-day-a-week afternoon class, but now that he was fully aware of why she was feeling this way, he felt more angry than sad at seeing her like this.

The second thing Duncan noticed was the shaking of the floor as she completed her first step into the living room. The floor, hollowed by the large boiler room beneath the first floor apartments, was ill equipped to deal with the prodigious girl’s stride.

But before the reality of his situation could really sink in, he became captivated by his new perspective of Callie’s body. It had been a while since he had seen a giant from the ground, and this was the first chance he had to admire this particular giant like this.

She was tall, and not just comparatively so. While seeing her through nearly indiscernible holes in the wall or even from the vantage point offered by the kitchen table, he couldn’t tell, but at ground level, she was noticeably taller than both Kristie and Natasha, as well as several of the giants he hid from during his travels these past six months.

Her legs, shapely columns of pale femininity and each as wide as an elevator shaft, dominated his attention. They stretched skyward until they disappeared under the canopy of denim that pressed against her upper thighs with each quaking step. Then there were her feet, wrapped in stylish brown sandals that barely contained them.

And what shade of pink nail polish was that on her toes? Fuchsia? Rose? Duncan never claimed to be an expert on fashion or what color looked good with what, but he couldn’t help but admire Callie’s elegant, slender toes and the way that polish made them pop, especially against the leather sandal strap that wrapped around them at the knuckle and the sea of purple shag surrounding the whole package.

It wasn’t until her third step that he broke from his trance and registered that he was directly in her walking path. As her right foot touched down, by his standard, about 20 feet in front of him, the impact shook the floor enough to cause him to stumble forward. Before he had fully recovered, her left foot was already airborne.

Duncan looked straight up as he regained his balance, only to see Callie’s sandal hover directly above him as it descended from the heavens.

Eh, not how I thought I would go, but I guess if I had to pick … he thought.

But as Callie’s sandal came down, it also attempted to retreat. By the time it came down, it’s landing zone had been altered just enough for the foot to slam right in front of Duncan rather than on top of him.

The force behind the step was fierce. The old floor beneath the carpet rattled deafeningly in his ears as it continued to shake for several seconds, knocking him on top of her second and third toes, his face buried in the webbing between them.

“Ohmigod! Duncan!” Callie cried out.

Duncan raised his head from between the giantess’s toes, his face drenched in her foot sweat. The salty taste in his mouth, although not pleasant, wasn’t as gross as he would have thought. His eyes shot wide open as a sour scent stung his nostrils as he inhaled through his nose, taking traces of her sweat within as well. Perhaps more surprisingly, he felt his stiffening cock brush against the tip of her third toe.

What the shit?! he panicked internally. Why am I getting hard over this?

Shaking and wiping as much of the sweat as he could from his face, he quickly pushed off the strap around her toes and got back to his feet, not wanting Callie to feel his hardness.

By the time Duncan had recovered, Callie was already on her right knee and reaching for him. He was scooped up from behind by her right hand, reminiscent of a chairlift at a ski lodge, and brought before her watery eyes, which examined him thoroughly for potential injury. Mercifully, his seated position helped him hide the bulge in his pants, which was starting to subside.

“I’m so, so, so sorry!” she said. “I’m so fuckin’ stupid! I … I coulda killed you. I just keep fuckin’ up!”

Tears began to roll down Callie’s cheeks. Sitting in her palm, Duncan wanted to comfort her and tell her that it wasn’t her fault. At the same time, even though he was feeling pretty guilty about it, he didn’t want to admit to ogling her instead of trying to get out of her way. So he decided on an internal compromise.

“You’re not stupid, and you’re not fucking up,” he said. “It’s my fault. I should have stuck to the walls if I was going to be moving around on the floor.”

Callie shook her head as she stood up, careful not to jostle her little passenger, and slowly made her way to the living room couch.

“When I say we’re roomies, that means that this apartment is as much yours as it is mine,” she said. “You should have free reign of the place, just like I do. I just need be more careful and watch my step. This won’t be happening again. Thanks for tryin’ to make me feel better, though.”

Callie took a seat on the couch, gently depositing Duncan on the coffee table with a tilt of her hand, his butt scraping against her palm as he slid off it. She smiled appreciatively at her tiny friend, but the crying didn’t stop. As the smile faded and the sobbing began, he realized that she couldn’t stop.

“Something else has you upset, too,” he said. “I could see it when you first walked through the door.”

The crying stopped, and Callie just stared blankly at Duncan.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said.

Duncan acknowledged Callie’s reluctance with a slow nod.

“That’s no problem,” he said. “I was planning handling that part anyway.”

Duncan started pacing on the coffee table, arms behind his back, never straying past the width of the colossal co-ed. Her eyes, carrying a sense of uncertainty, followed him as he marched back and forth in front of her.

“So I couldn’t help but notice that you’re taking advanced business and statistical analysis this semester,” he began. “I know that can be a rough class, especially for—“

Callie’s face suddenly contorted in anger.

“I said I don’t wanna talk about it!” she snapped, immediately cringing afterward. “Sorry. It’s just that, I know you’re tryin’ to help, but this isn’t just about some class. You don’t understand. No one does. And even if you did …”

Callie lowered her head in shame. Duncan, for his part, stopped pacing but stood his ground during her outburst. It was terrifying, being yelled at by a someone her size, but he had actually expected that type of reaction from her and was prepared for it. He knew how sensitive a topic this was, but he felt like he had to push.

So he decided to stop dancing around the issue.

“Professor Stillwell is pressuring you to have sex with him, isn’t he?” he asked.

Callie removed her face from her drenched palms, stunned, as she stared down at Duncan. He gave her a second to process what he had just said before continuing.

“He told you the only way you would ever pass his class is to get on the curve,” he said. “And the only way to do that is …”

Duncan trailed off. He could tell by the shock written all over Callie’s face that she already knew how that sentence ended.

“How?” she questioned. “How could you possibly know that?”

Duncan unfolded his arms from behind his back and stepped closer to Callie’s knees, which poked well above the edge of the table, clamped closed for what he assumed were obvious reasons.

“I TA’ed for that fucking monster for half a semester a few years back,” he answered.

Callie’s eyes widened at the revelation.

“You went to SWSU, too?!” she exclaimed.

Duncan nodded.

“Southwest State has an incredible MBA program,” he said. “I did my undergrad at Capital Tech back East.”

Callie’s excitement at attending the same school as Duncan seemed to taper, her widened eyes narrowing in on her runty roommate.

“Hold up,” she said slowly. “TAs work full semesters. Professor Stillwell run you off?”

Duncan shook his head.

“That’s not quite how it went down,” he said. “Carlton Stillwell definitely hates my guts, though, which makes me smile.”

Leaning down toward him, Callie’s inquisitive face hovered above Duncan as she scrutinized him closely.

“Okay, You need to spill on what happened with you two,” she said.

Duncan took a couple steps backward to better see Callie’s cutely imposing face.

“So, like I said, I was his TA for advanced business and stats during the fall semester three years ago,” he explained. “Stillwell was pretty annoyed that he got stuck with a TA, and he pretty much ignored me for the first month or so. Then he realized I actually knew this stuff well enough to teach it and …”

********

“There’s a fuckin’ list?!” Callie yelled, causing Duncan to cringe. “Oh shit, sorry again!”

She smiled apologetically down at her miniature friend, hoping that he would understand her outburst. He had just finished explaining how Professor Stillwell had pawned the class lectures off on him, making him the de facto instructor after the first class exam. But it was when he started telling her about the professor’s instructions for grading the midterm that she lost her cool.

“No, that’s the right reaction,” he said. “But as I was saying, after that pretentious jerkoff pulled me aside, he started going on about this secret curve for the class, and then he gave me a list with five student names on it. All girls. All tall. All blonde.”

Callie slowly leaned back on the couch, staring straight ahead while losing herself in thought.

So it wasn’t anything I did? she asked herself. I’m just his type? That can’t be right.

“Are you okay?” a voice called to Callie from below.

She snapped back to reality, diverting her attention back to her coffee table and the little man staring back at her.

“Y-yeah, sorry,” Callie said. “It’s just a lot to take in, but I’m good. So what did you do when he gave you this list?”

Callie did her best to give a reassuring smile under Duncan’s uncertain gaze. Seeming satisfied, he continued his story.

“I had seen him perving on a couple of those girls in class, so I had a guess about why they were on the curve list,” he said. “But I had to be sure before I did anything about it, so I looked each of them up in the school directory and went to ask them about it in person.”

Callie’s eyelids refused to blink as her curiosity about the professor’s previous victims demanded her complete attention.

“Two of them denied it,” he recalled. “One of them slapped me; I’m pretty sure she thought I was trying to get in on whatever deal she had with Professor Rapist. Another one tried to seduce me, probably for the same reason.”

Callie looked on as Duncan broke eye contact with her, a despondent look upon his face as he stared down at his feet.

“But the last one, she broke down and cried,” he said. “She told me everything. She was struggling the first few weeks of class and went to see that asshole during his office hours. He was nice to her and even offered her some ‘additional tutoring’ after his regular hours, which she happily took him up on. They met at her apartment. The next thing she knew, he was inside her, promising her at least a B on the midterm. She was supposed to see him again if she wanted the same on the final, though.”

Callie felt tears welling up in eyes once again as Duncan went on.

“I went to the business school dean after talking with that girl,” he said. “It turns out he’s golfing buddies with the professor. The two of them tried to get me kicked out of school. Long story short, I ended up taking my case to the board of trustees, the girls were all given automatics As for the class, I was paid for a full semester of TA work without having to show up, and we were all assured that they would discipline Stillwell ‘internally.’”

A derisive chuckle left Duncan’s lips.

“Of course, we all had to sign NDAs for any of that to happen,” he said. “Can’t have the school getting embarrassed, after all.”

At the conclusion of Duncan’s story, the two of them spent several minutes sitting in silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say. Then, Callie leaned forward and laid her right hand on the table beside Duncan, palm up, as she gave him a pleading look. He accepted the invitation, stepping into her hand and riding it as it gently elevated until he was level with the giant girl’s chest, her eyes looking away from him.

“That’s not quite how it happened with me,” she said softly. “The professor, he came up to me after we got our first exam grades back. I bombed it pretty hard. He asked me to stay after class; I felt like I was back in middle school or something.”

Callie subconsciously shifted her palm and wrapped her fingers around Duncan, leaving only his head and shoulders sticking out of her fist. Her thumb and index finger parted, giving the little man a chance to free his arms, which he swiftly took. As the two digits came back together, she felt him lay his arms on top of them.

She began to squeeze his body gently as she continued.

“After it was just us in the room, he just straight up said that if I fucked him a few times he’d give me a better grade on the midterm and that we could talk about the final later,” Callie said.

Looking down at Duncan for the first time, she finally noticed that he was in her grip. Horrified, she relieved the pressure in her fingers and opened her mouth, ready to apologize for yet another screw up. But then she noticed that he was rubbing her index finger with his right hand, a gentle smile on his face as he looked up at her.

“You’re good,” he said. “Go on.”

Callie smiled down at him, slightly tightening her grip once again but watching Duncan this time to make sure he was comfortable in her fingers. He didn’t physically acknowledge the light squeeze, something for which she was grateful. She wasn’t sure if she could get through this without it.

She also just really liked holding him like this.

“I noticed him looking at me in class pretty early on,” Callie said. “It was starting to make me feel uncomfortable. I couldn’t concentrate on the lectures. Fuck, just looking at the book made me feel slimy after a while. But I never expected him to just say it out loud like that. I didn’t know what to do. So I just left. Didn’t say a word.”

She released a slow, deliberate exhale in an effort to purge the memory from her mind and move forward with her story.

Almost done, she told herself.

“Up until now, he hadn’t mentioned it again. Just acted like everything was fine,” she said. “But the staring got worse. So much worse. And then today, after class, he comes up to me and asks me about those ‘office hours’ we had talked about. That’s what he called it when he first said he wanted to fuck me: extra office hours.”

Callie opened her fingers as she tilted her hand flat once again, leaving Duncan in a sitting position, his elbows digging into the breast of her palm as he leaned back.

“I can’t even look at the book. I can’t focus on the lectures. I’m fucked,” she said. “I hate him so much, but if I don’t do this, I’m going to fail out of school. I know I don’t look like it, but I got plans, Duncan. Dreams. I … I gotta get my degree to get there, though. I-I don’t know what to do.”

Callie’s last words came out as a whisper. Again, the room became quiet. Then, Duncan sat up straight and shot her an odd look, one she couldn’t quite read.

“Do you want to?” he asked.

The humongous housemate, taken aback, gazed down incredulously on the guy sitting in her palm.

“What?” Callie questioned.

Surely Duncan wasn’t asking her what she thought he was asking her, right?

“Do you. Want. To. Fuck. Him?” he asked again.

Callie glared down at the miniature man in her hand.

“Of course not!” she answered. “Like, what the fuck kind of question even is that?!”

Duncan ignored Callie’s query, staring up at the giant girl with a resolute look in his eyes.

“Seems like you’ve got your answer, then,” he said. “Hey, that was actually pretty easy!”

As she set Duncan back on the tabletop, Callie glowered down at him, taken aback by his cavalier attitude toward her situation.

“Not funny,” she said. “It’s not that easy. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Just fail and act like it’s no big deal?”

Duncan casually shrugged his shoulders.

“Were you not listening when I was talking?” he asked. “Or maybe you just missed the part where I pretty much taught this exact class?"

The agitation drained from Callie’s annoyed countenance, a look of surprise taking its place.

“You mean you want to teach me?” she asked. “I-I can’t ask you to do that. You got too many problems to worry about for me to start pilin’ mine on top of ‘em.”

Duncan’s expression became serious.

“Callie, I’ve known you for a day, and you’ve already done more for me than anyone I’ve ever met,” he said. “I know what I can and can’t handle, and I can do this. I want to do this.”

A smirk crossed Duncan’s lips.

“Besides, weren’t you just saying yesterday how all you wanted was for someone to show up and help you out,” he said, holding his right hand out toward her, palm flat. “Well here, have some fucking help!”

Callie barely registered a surprised yelp from Duncan as she scooped him up with her left hand and swiftly brought him to her right cheek. Her hand enveloping all but his head from behind, she ignored the slight tickle of his heels against the middle of her palm as she pressed him into tear-stained skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

********

From the left cushion of the small-mountain-sized couch, Duncan leaned against its back as he sat back, relaxed, and caught up on the latest goings on in the business world via a TV show featuring a balding man with a zany, exaggerated attitude and a plethora of wacky sound effects at his disposal. Not the most trusted source, but he had been out of the loop for six months and was therefore curious enough to turn to basic cable for a glimpse of how things had changed in that time.

Callie had set the shrunken man down on the cushion after holding him against her cheek for several minutes, finding the show at his request and leaving the remote control next to him before heading off to shower and get ready for work. He was pretty sure he could work the remote with a bit of effort, but he hadn’t tried as of yet, unsure of how he would deal with the blow to his ego if his assumption was proven wrong.

Rumbling footsteps announced that the titaness was finished with her prework preparations and now entering the living room. Looking up, Duncan saw her slightly touched-up face over the couch shoulder directly behind him.

She really doesn’t even need that little bit of makeup she has on, he thought idly.

Another long stride, and the rest of giantess came into view from behind the couch. She was wearing white sundress decorated in a pink floral pattern, tastefully stopping just above the knee. A thin pink sash was tied around her waist.

She walked in front of him to reach the opposite cushion of the two-seated furniture piece. Her steps generated a moderate breeze, inadvertently chilling him a bit and blowing his scruffily excess hair about.

Callie sat down on the cushion opposite Duncan, descending slow enough to not jostle the tiny guy. She told him that she still had some time before she had to leave. Then the two sat and watched TV for a few minutes.

“Hey Duncan,” she broke the silence without looking away from the screen, “what did you do before you shrank? Like, for a job, I mean.”

Duncan realized that his confusion at the randomness of the question must have been apparent, as, after finally turning to face him, Callie explained herself before he could respond.

“It’s just, you said before that you got your MBA from here,” she said. “And I just realized that I never even asked anything about your life from before you got tiny.”

Duncan had already forgotten that he mentioned that minor detail during their talk earlier. Despite not thinking too much about his previous life nowadays, Callie’s interest made him feel kind of happy for some reason.

“I worked as a financial manager and adviser for Shale Holdings,” he said. “I mostly split my time between evaluating our various holdings and offering advise to some of their clients.”

Callie’s eyes lit up.

“Shale Holdings?!” she exclaimed. “Do … Do you know Monica Shale?”

Duncan’s voice carried a bit of uncertainty in it as he answered.

“Yeah, I reported to her directly,” he said. “How do you know who she is?”

Callie’s indignance at the question seemed to do little to detract from her excitement.

“Are you serious?!” she said. “How could I not know who number two on Business Happenings Monthly’s top 35 CEOs under 35 list is? She took over the company three years ago, Duncan. Three years! She’s only 28! She’s, like, my hero!”

Callie paused briefly, and Duncan could see the gears turning in her head.

“Hold up, she’s your boss? Like, your boss boss?” she asked. “What’s she like?”

Duncan gave a dry chuckle.

“Let’s see,” he said. “She’s cold-blooded, incredibly nosy, and super aggressive, even when it comes to personal ‘advice.’”

Callie smiled dreamily as she counted off her own interpretation of Duncan’s analysis on the fingers of her right hand.

“So what I’m hearin’ is that she’s laser focused, cares deeply about her employees, and is determined to help them, even when they don’t know they need it,” she said. “She sounds even more amazing than I thought. But does she really get so involved in your guys’ lives like that? I’d think she’d be pretty busy for that.”

Duncan held out his right hand with a bent elbow and rocked it in a so-so gesture.

“She never really talked much with most of us outside of work duties,” he said. “But for some reason, she always liked to dig into my personal life, tell me how I should handle things.”

A small grunt of frustration escaped Callie’s throat.

“It’s because she cares about you, stupid,” she said before her eyes went big. “Oh, you should let her know what happened to you! It sounds to me like she’d be worried about you.”

Duncan also went wide-eyed but for a completely different reason.

“That’s a really bad idea,” he said. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Callie rolled her eyes.

“Um, I read, like, four different feature stories and interviews on Monica Shale, so pretty sure I know her,” she said. “Besides, a job like that doesn’t come around too often, does it? Maybe if you tell her what happened to you, you can get your job back when you get back to normal or something.”

Duncan wanted to tell Callie that there was no way his position was left vacant for six months. He wanted to tell her that he had no interest in letting anyone else, and most certainly not Monica, know about his current size. But looking up at that hopeful bundle of optimism staring back at him, he couldn’t bring himself to get in the way that.

“555-9264,” he mumbled. “That will get you through to Allysia, her personal secretary. That’s as close as non-family gets to a personal number for Monica. Allysia will probably just take a message, and maybe, if you’re right, Monica might give you a call back in a few days.”

Nodding along with Duncan’s explanation, Callie grabbed her phone from the coffee table without taking her eyes off him. She dialed the number and sat the phone down between the two of them.

“You’ve reached the office of Monica Shale,” a bored young woman’s voice emitted from the phone speaker. “May I ask what your business is with Ms. Shale?”

Callie cleared her throat and appeared to be doing her best to sound professional, something Duncan struggled to not laugh at.

“Yes, I’m calling regarding Duncan …”

A panicked look on her face, Callie mouthed a question Duncan, almost silently asking for his last name.

“Duncan?” Allysia asked on the other end of the phone. “You mean Duncan Brenadine?!”

Duncan gave Callie a thumbs up, and she quickly confirmed the secretary’s assumption.

“Uh, h-hold please,” Allysia said before the line was, in fact, put on hold.

“Well that was unexpected,” Duncan said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her that energetic before.”

As soon as he finished his sentence, the line opened once again.

“Duncan?!” a different voice, also distinctly feminine, was heard through the phone.

Hearing Monica call out his name caused Duncan’s breathing to stop. He couldn’t move. He looked up and saw Callie looking at him expectantly. Thankfully, she quickly realized that he was in no condition to speak at the moment.

“Uh, no ma’am. M-my name is Callie Voss, and I’m, uh, I’m calling on Duncan’s behalf,” she stuttered. “Is this Ms. Shale?”

Callie’s response was met with a brief silence before Monica spoke her next words.

“I see,” she said, the emotion previously in her voice now completely gone. “So Mr. Brenadine goes missing for six months only to have his new secretary call to inform me that he’s accepted a new position. I would have thought he would have had the … gumption to at least speak to me himself.”

Duncan could see sweat starting to form on Callie’s forehead so far above him.

“H-hold up,” she said. “That … that’s not h-how it is at all.”

Duncan could almost see the sneering smirk on his old boss’ face as she already had Callie on the ropes.

“Well then, Ms. Voss, please do tell me how it is,” she said in an icy tone. “I’ll ‘hold up’ for as long as is necessary.”

Callie’s hands started to shake.

“I … well, I—“ she tried to answer.

Monica cut her off.

“Actually, could you take care of something for me, Ms. Voss,” she said in a voice that was anything but asking. “Please tell Mr. Brenadine that, despite whatever … all this is, that he is free to meet me in my office on Monday at 7 a.m. sharp.”

Callie tried to respond, but Monica interrupted her once again.

“If he cares at all about his position with this company, he’ll be there,” she said with a bit of harshness. “And he had better have a satisfactory explanation for his whereabouts all this time, or employment prospects will be the least of his concerns.”

A dial tone signaled the end of the call almost as soon as Monica’s last syllable was uttered. Callie and Duncan spent the next few minutes staring at each other, completely stunned.

It was the giantess who spoke first.

“That. Was. Awesome!” she yelled. “I can’t wait to meet her in person!”

Duncan was initially too dumbfounded at Callie’s first sentence to process her second. By the time he caught up, he was even more confused.

“In person?” he asked. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to meet with her. Definitely not like this! Or after that!”

Callie picked up her phone and stood up, a wide grin on her face.

“Oh, we’re goin’,” she said.

A feeling of dread welled in Duncan’s stomach.

“You’re going to make me go?” he asked.

Callie’s smile reversed into a frown.

“Of course not,” she said, her smile returning immediately afterward. “But I got all weekend to convince you. And I think we both know I’m gonna pull it off.”

Duncan cringed. Somewhere deep down, he knew she was right.

“Shit, you keep makin’ me run late today,” she giggled as she looked back at her phone. “I’ll be back after work. Try not to worry about it in the mean time. I mean, what’s the worst that can happen, anyway?”

Duncan watched as Callie slipped on her sandals, grabbed her purse, and put her phone inside the bag as she left the apartment.

“Yeah …” he trailed off as he looked back at the TV.

With a little more effort than he would have cared to admit, Duncan successfully pushed down the button to unmute the business show. He was bombarded by the TV speaker projecting the host screaming “Sell!” like a mad man over and over again as he smashed a keyboard on a pedestal with a baseball bat and stomped several times on the broken pieces, each larger than Duncan, the name of a prominent tech company displayed on the bottom of the screen. Duncan shuddered.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” he muttered quietly.

Chapter End Notes:

Next chapter: Duncan gets an update on his employment status.


Callie vs. the Esoteric Executive

Word Count: 9582
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

When last we left our heroes, they were weighing whether to take up Duncan's boss, CEO Monica Shale, on her oh so generous invitation for Duncan to meet her in her office following the weekend or be fired. This chapter picks up on that Monday morning.

 For the first time in as long as she could remember, Monica was nervous.

She was sitting in her office behind her desk, a clear glass surface with fine oak drawers for privacy and matching table legs. The morning sunrise lingered behind her as it clashed with the city skyline, framed through a clear glass wall spanning the width of the office, in a view only afforded to those on the 46th floor of her company’s building.

Monica straightened out her just-above knee length black pencil skirt as her right foot, clad in a matching high-heel, continued to tap against the thinly carpeted floor. She fiddled with the bottom button on her black blazer, partially blocking her white, short-sleeved blouse from view.

The weekend had come and gone, and Monday was here. Would he show up? Had he betrayed her and taken a job elsewhere? Had she misjudged him in the first place? What if he didn’t show up? What if this was a prank of some sort, and he was still missing?

Monica’s thoughts were interrupted by a woman’s voice blaring over the intercom.

“Boss, your 7 a.m. is here,” the voice said. “It’s not him. I think it’s that weird girl who called the other day.”

“Hey!” a second feminine voice came through the speaker.

Monica could feel the frown forming on her lips. This was why she never put any faith in others, especially her employees, and she would certainly never be making that mistake again. It had been some time since she had felt such disappointment. Her first thought was to send this girl away and cease with these games.

Then again, how is it that the old expression goes? “Shoot the messenger,” I believe? Monica mused, feeling her trademark haughty smirk returning.

“Show her in,” Monica spoke into the speaker.

She turned her attention to her office door, which promptly opened as her secretary strolled into the room, the latter’s wavy brunette tresses swaying gently against her shoulder blades with each step. Her tanned skin was partially hidden away by a white blouse and dark blue pencil skirt with matching heels.

But it was the blonde woman trailing behind, or rather her height, that stood out to the CEO.

“A Callie Voss here to see you, boss,” the secretary said.

This girl was tall, maybe even taller than Monica herself. She was aware that her secretary was on the shorter side, but the top of the personal assistant’s head was barely level with the young woman’s shoulders. A pair of strappy brown high-heeled sandals guided the blonde’s steps as she slipped beside the secretary, revealing her knee-length beige dress, a white sash tied at the hip. A small, thin-strapped black purse completed the ensemble.

“Thank you, Alyssia,” Monica addressed her secretary.

With a slight nod, Alyssia took her cue to leave, exiting the room without further comment.

“You have your secretary actually walk your appointments in?” the young woman asked. “So cool.”

Monica almost chuckled at the naive innocence of the young woman in front of her. This girl was making it too easy for her.

“Yes, well, even in this digital age, I’m still partial to the physical presence,” Monica responded. “Which is why I must admit to being most disappointed with the absence of the man for whom this appointment was made in the first place.”

Monica could see how the harsh condescension she had inflected into her voice immediately pulled this Callie girl out of her awed stupor.

“R-right, of course, Ms. Shale,” Callie stuttered. “About that—“

Monica narrowed her eyes, her death stare stopping Callie dead in her tracks, as it had many a business rival over the past few years. She wasn’t about to allow this girl ruin her fun with some lazily concocted excuse, electing instead to use her favorite negotiating tactic: bulldozing the conversation.

“I also seem to recall asking you only to relay a message to Mr. Brenadine. That was to be your sole role in this interaction,” Monica said. “And yet here you are, standing there cluelessly in my office, and all alone at that. The least you could have done, if you were going to involve yourself further in my personal affairs, was bring the one person for whom this part of my schedule was reserved. Do you believe my time to be without worth, Ms. Voss?”

The panic flooding Callie’s face was exactly what Monica wanted to see. As the co-ed moved to sit in one of the two chairs in front of Monica’s desk, the businesswoman was tempted to admonish her for mistaking her critique as an invitation to seat herself but decided to save her venom for the girl’s next slip up instead. After all, you have to let the fish wear itself out rather than constantly pulling on the line.

What a wonderful way to start the day, Monica thought happily.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Shale,” Callie answered, regaining her composure. “I know your time is valuable, but if you would just give me a second to explain—”

There it was, the next opening for Monica to strike.

“I don’t see what explanation you could possibly offer that would justify your presence here in place of Mr. Brenadine’s,” she snapped. “Perhaps my request was too complicated for you? Or is it that this is just some sort of game you’re playing? Well, I can assure you that I have no time for your pointless excuses. There is no combination of words you could utter that could possibly explain your incompetence or his arrogance in this instance!”

Monica felt good as she unleashed six months worth of frustration on Callie. A small part of her felt guilty for verbally assaulting the poor girl, but she was merely in the wrong place at the absolute perfect time. Besides, sympathy and empathy were two traits Monica had buried deep early in her ascension up the corporate ranks, and it was too late to dig them up now.

“That’s a good point!” Callie said in a far more chipper voice than Monica was expecting. “Hold up a second.”

As Callie rose to her feet, Monica stared at her, mouth agape. Why wasn’t this girl in tears yet? How could she possibly be so happy after the dressing down she had just received? And perhaps most importantly, why the hell was she closing the vertical Venetian blinds to her glass wall facing the rest of the 46th floor?!

Monica was feeling apprehensive as Callie returned to her seat, picking up her purse from the floor next to it. Callie opened it and looked inside. However, instead of simply reaching in and removing an item from it, she actually began speaking into it, leaving Monica very much distressed.

“You remember what you told me to do if you did this, right?” she asked the contents of her bag. “’cause I’m gonna do it.”

After another minute or so of Callie talking into her purse, she lowered her hand into the bag. In a panic, Monica reached into the top right drawer of her desk and gripped her revolver, preparing to defend herself if the need arose.

Callie pulled her hand out and Monica prepared to do the same, but stopped when she realized that it wasn’t a weapon in the young girl’s hand. Callie set the thing she took out of her purse onto the desk in front of her. It made a noise, but Monica was too confused to register it.

“But I did do what you said,” Callie talked down to the tiny object that she set on Monica’s desk. “You said you would do this and that you wanted me to ‘make sure you man up and just do it already.’”

Much to Monica’s surprise, the little thing squeaked back.

“That was then!” it yelled. “You’re supposed to listen to me now, in the moment!”

Callie threw her arms up in obvious frustration as Monica looked on, dumbfounded by what was unfolding in front of her.

“That doesn’t even make sense, Duncan,” she said. “Like, if I’m supposed to listen to you now, why would you tell me something different then?”

Wait, did she just say … Monica processed internally.

“I was being stupid then, obviously!” the finger-sized man answered.

Monica noticed the slightest hint of an amused smile cross Callie’s face.

“So, like, how do you know that you’re not being stupid now instead of then?” Callie questioned. “It’s not like people do stupid stuff on purpose, so how do you know which is which? Like, what even is stupid, anyway?”

The little man on the desk raised his right arm and jabbed his index finger in Callie’s general direction.

“Don’t try to Aristotle your way out of this!” he said.

Honing in on the man’s voice, Monica realized that it was a familiar one. It sounded so small, but it definitely belonged to Duncan. Having pieced together the what, or rather the who, of the situation, the baffled businesswoman began racking her brain to address the suddenly much more pertinent question of how.

Monica tuned out the mind-numbing drivel between her undersized employee and his much larger debate partner, her focus entirely centered on the miniature person with his back to her. She reached for him with her right hand, her mocha-colored fingers trembling in nervous anticipation.

That’s when Callie’s left hand swiftly and harshly gripped Monica’s wrist.

“Hey!” the blonde growled with a fierceness very unlike the sweet, almost bubbly quality her voice carried seconds before. “No touchin’ him without permission!”

Monica’s eyes drifted from the doll-sized Duncan on her desk to meet the intense gaze of the woman impeding her hand’s progress. The executive’s eyes widened as Callie’s words settled in her ears and she realized just what it was she was about to do.

Monica felt Callie’s grasping fingers release as the CEO pulled her hand back.

“Of course,” Monica almost whispered. “My apologies.”

The hostility melted from Callie’s face as Monica withdrew her hand. The executive watched the young woman’s vibrant hazel irises as they flickered down to the tiny man standing on the desk before rising back up, flashing an expectant glint upon meeting Monica’s own eyes once more.

Monica was barely able to contain a gasp as she realized her mistake.

“But then, I really should direct my apologies to you, shouldn’t I?” she asked, addressing Duncan this time. “I’m sorry, Duncan. I’m just having some difficulty comprehending your … current situation.”

Duncan, looking rattled, took a nervous step toward his boss.

“I-it’s fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Monica took a good look at the smaller Duncan for the first time. He was wearing black pants made from a thick, yet comfortable-looking fabric and a white shirt made of a different, lighter fabric. His face was clean-shaven and his hair, although a bit disheveled, was cut relatively short, likely chopped with some sort of blade.

As he looked up at her, it was clear that he still carried himself with the same composure and measure of confidence that he always did, something she particularly admired, given his current size. But hiding behind his little eyes, she saw something she wasn’t accustomed to seeing in him: fear.

She didn’t like that but decided to not dwell on it.

“I … I have so many questions,” Monica said. “I suppose I should start with the most basic one, however: How did this happen?”

Despite still seeming tense, Duncan took a deep breath and began to sound more like his old self.

“I hope you don’t have any appointments for a while,” he said, “because this story takes a while.”

********

“I … I don’t know what to say,” Monica said, breaking the minutes-long silence that followed the conclusion of Duncan’s tale.

Callie studied her idol sitting at the other side of the desk. The pained, sympathetic look on Monica’s face seemed out of place framed by her flawless light brown skin and strands of black hair that escaped the bun atop her head and landed just in front of her ears. Callie could relate, though, as her own emotions upon hearing Duncan’s story for the first time could easily fit that expression.

“Huh,” Duncan responded. “I figured you would have jumped at the chance to say, ‘I told you so.’ You’ve been warning me about Kristie for, what, two years now?”

Monica shook her head.

“No, I never could have guessed she would go that far,” she said, her button nose crinkling slightly. “I knew she was … unpleasant, but I didn’t think she was a monster, and I thought she at least cared about you enough to treat you like a person in your current condition.”

Monica flashed a small smile at the small employee standing on her desk.

“Besides, now hardly seems an appropriate time to brag, particularly about such a trivial matter,” she said. “I’m just happy to see you safe.”

Callie could see Duncan’s body relax, her little friend finally appearing fully comfortable in Monica’s presence.

“Thanks, boss,” he said, before giving a smirk. “It means a lot to hear that from the ice queen herself.”

Monica sighed in response.

“You never could just let a nice moment stand,” she said. “I suppose I should count as a positive that your sense of humor didn’t shrink with you?”

This got a chuckle out of Duncan.

“I’d definitely say so,” he said, turning back to face Callie. “You know, you were right about this. Thanks for talking me into coming here.”

Duncan’s appreciation brought a smile to her face. She had been a little worried when he didn’t want to leave her purse and even felt a bit guilty about showing him to Monica even though he had instructed her to do exactly that the night before. But now a strong sense of validation filled her heart.

Nodding in response, Callie looked up from her roommate, only to be met by the intensity of Monica’s deep brown eyes.

“Yes, thank you for bringing him here,” Monica said in a professional tone. “Although I must admit to being curious about the type of person with which my employee is sharing living accommodations, especially if I’m to have him resume his duties.”

Callie shivered under Monica’s stare. Luckily, a voice from below bailed her out.

“R-resume my duties?” Duncan asked. “I know what you said about my job over the phone, but this is more of a ‘Hey, I’m still alive’ visit than it is a ‘Hey, I’m ready to come back to work’ one. I can’t come back, not like this, not with those jackasses out there!”

Callie’s eyes followed as Duncan pointed toward the office door, the sound of the other employees starting to file into the office being audible through the closed entryway. She cringed at the thought of what some of his coworkers, or anyone else, for that matter, might do to him if they found him at his current size.

“Duncan,” Monica’s said, her tone unchanged. “I have been assuming your responsibilities for six months, and not only am I looking forward to relieving my workload, but your clients have been clamoring for your return since the first week you went on your ‘sabbatical,’ which is where you’re to say you have been when they ask, by the way.”

Duncan appeared shocked at his employer’s words.

“You’ve been covering for me?” he asked. “Why would you—You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m flattered that you want me back so badly, but I can’t start coming into the office at this size.”

Monica smirked ever so slightly as she looked down at her little employee.

“Which is why you’ll be working from home,” she said. “You didn’t think I would expect you to come to the office with your … condition, did you?”

Callie watched as the two of them worked out the details of his new terms of employment: what equipment was needed, how often he would need to report to her, and which tasks he was to prioritize while he caught up on things that fell through the cracks. Duncan brought up one other necessary detail as well.

“And you’ll also need to adjust my direct deposit to Callie’s bank account,” he said.

That last declaration certainly caught Callie by surprise.

“Um, what?” she said. “Why can’t you just keep getting paid in your own account? I don’t feel comfortable putting your money in with mine. I don't wanna accidentally spend some of your money.”

Duncan turned around to face his giant roommate.

“I can’t exactly go out and buy stuff like this,” he said, motioning his hands up and down his body. “So I’d need you to spend my money on stuff anyway. Besides, it’ll be so much easier for me to cover the rent if we share your account.”

Callie couldn’t help but feel slightly indignant at Duncan’s suggestion. Did he see her as some desperate girl who couldn’t get by without a handout?

“Cover the rent?!” she said. “I’ve been doin' just fine on my own, thank you! Like, I may be a bit short on cash right now, but I can pay my own rent.”

Duncan lowered his head.

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But I’m no freeloader, and trust me, whatever you’re paying the landlord isn’t going to make a dent in my check. So please …”

Callie had a hard time hearing Duncan, but his words still reached her heart as well as her ears. She had been so annoyed at thinking he didn’t believe she could take care of herself that she hadn’t thought of it from the opposite perspective, how he must feel having to rely on her so much.

“Alright, you can cover rent,” she said. “But I’m still paying utilities.”

Duncan was quick to accept the terms of Callie’s proposal.

“Very good. I’ll have Alyssia retrieve your information later, Callie,” Monica said, pausing for a moment before turning downward to Duncan. “There is one more matter I wanted to discuss with you. I’m aware of your aversion to having a lab look into your situation, but I can make a few calls. I have some connections that will be discreet and respectful, so—“

She stopped, as Duncan was already shaking his head.

“No,” he said.

Monica let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not going to let them expose you or keep you in a lab somewhere, Duncan,” she said. “Unless … unless the issue is that you don’t trust me?”

Duncan stared at her for a moment, dead silence passing between them, before making his decision.

“Do it,” he said. “Make your calls. But I don’t want to set foot in a lab at all, alright?”

Monica didn’t say a word but answered with the most sincere smile Callie had seen from her all morning. The three of them continued talking for a while longer before Callie announced that Duncan and she needed to head out if they were to make their bus in time for her first class of the day.

“Nonsense,” Monica said. “I’ll drive you home. It’s the least I can do to make amends for my rude behavior earlier, when I, um, tried to reach for Duncan without permission.”

After a bit of polite back and forth, Callie and Duncan accepted the offer. Duncan was gently set back into Callie’s purse with minimal but audible muttering, and the two women exited Monica’s office.

Callie saw a few employees at their desks, mostly on their phones as they typed away on their computers. Others were still just getting to work, getting off the high rise’s elevator after it reached their lofty floor.

“Alyssia, I need you to cancel all my morning appointments,” Monica said as Callie and she approached the secretary’s desk from behind.

Alyssia remained focused on her work, not so much as glancing at the two woman as they strode by her desk. Still, as Callie glanced at the secretary, she couldn’t help but notice that her eyes were a little red and puffy.

"It's already done, so take your time getting back," Alyssia said almost dismissively.

Then she added two words that stopped the two women in their tracks.

"Bye, Duncan."

Callie froze midstep, setting her left foot back down beside Alyssia's desk. The secretary kept her face buried in her computer screen, the thin smirk stretching her pink-painted lips serving as the only indication that she was aware of the stopping power of her words.

"You left the intercom on again, didn't you?" Monica said, her tone flat. "I do believe I told you to stop doing that."

Callie's eyes followed Monica's voice, finding her facing the front of her employee's desk. The CEO wore a neutral expression, aside from the frightful glare in her coffee-colored eyes.

"Of course I did," Alyssia responded as her fingers continued to glided across the keyboard. "I flipped it back on as soon as those blinds went shut. Don't act like you weren't worried, too. I bet you were reaching for your gun right before the 'big reveal.'"

Callie gasped.

"G-gun?!" she asked.

Monica's intense gaze softened as she cleared her throat.

"That ... that's beside the point," she said.

Finally lifting her head from her work, Alyssia swiveled in her chair to face Callie's hip. Before Callie could react, the secretary gave the side of the blonde co-ed's purse a light smack, causing it to sway slightly as it hung from her shoulder.

Alyssia frowned at the bag as a barely audible grunt penetrated its leather walls as the contents within were tossed about.

"That's for not letting me know you were okay when you guys called last week, ya little jerk!" she whispered at the bag. “And for not letting me know now!”

Callie instinctively grabbed the purse with her right hand, halting its momentum and turning her body to shield the bag from another potential assault. It wasn't until after she had secured her roommate’s transport that Alyssia's words registered with her.

"Are you guys, like, close?" She asked the auburn-haired beauty.

Alyssia smiled brightly as she shrugged her shoulders.

"He's the only other person that works here that isn't a complete and total dick," she said.

Monica gave her assistant a death stare. Alyssia’s grin only got larger in return.

“Let’s go,” Monica said, dropping her shoulders in defeat.

Alyssia gently grabbed Callie’s wrist before she could leave.

“Just a sec,” the secretary said, carefully grabbing Callie’s purse with a hand on either side.

Alyssia quickly scanned the office, ensuring that none of the other employees were looking her way. Satisfied, she brought her face closer to the handbag.

“Did you think I'd forget?” she said, whispering menacingly. “Shortstack, hobbit, armrest; you thought you were pretty clever, huh? Well, guess what? You won’t know when, you won’t know where, but when you least expect it, I will crush your soul with the most devastating nickname your tiny ass has ever heard!”

Callie half-expected Alyssia to finish off her rant with a maniacal cackle, but instead she simply released the purse and resumed her work.

“See ya!” Alyssia said.

Callie clutched her purse a little tighter as she moved to catch up with Monica at the elevator.

********

Monica’s dark red Porsche began braking as it approached a traffic light that more or less matched it in color. From the passenger seat, Callie tightened the grip of her index finger and thumb as they encircled Duncan’s chest under his armpits, securing him from the g-force of the vehicle’s braking. She looked down to check on her tiny charge.

And he was staring right back at her.

“I still don’t see why I can’t just hang out in a cup holder or something,” Duncan said.

Callie suppressed a smile at feeling his little feet gently bounce between the breast of her palm and her other three fingers as his lower body swung like a pendulum within her loose fist at the sudden shift in momentum as the car came to a complete stop.

“I already told you, it’s not safe,” she answered. “If you don’t like this, I could always hold you in my purse.”

Duncan recalled the bus ride to the office, feeling the walls of the dark purse close in around him as Callie wrapped her arms around it protectively for the duration of the trip. While he appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t something he was looking forward to repeating.

“This is fine,” he said.

Still staring down at her roommate, Callie couldn’t help but feel just a bit of guilt. The last thing she wanted to do was use her size to boss him around, and the defeated tone with which he responded to her hurt her heart. But she reminded herself that she wasn’t doing this because he was small, that she wouldn’t so much as turn the key in the ignition before any of her other friends fastened their seat belts.

She looked out for her friends, always, and if it was sometimes a little easier to do that with Duncan because of his size, so be it.

As she was reassuring herself, Callie finally took notice of just where she was holding him, his chest and above sticking through her fist as he stared straight ahead into her cleavage. Feeling the heat of her cheeks blushing, her first thought was to quickly lower him down to her lap.

However, her arm didn’t move, as she decided that this was some sort of compensation for her forcing him to stay in her hand.

Yeah, that’s it. She tried to convince herself. A little reward for him. That’s all.

"So Callie," Monica said, never taking her eyes off the road, "As I mentioned in my office, I think I would like to know a bit more about you."

While her words were polite, the businesswoman's stern voice heavily implied that the coming conversation would be an involuntary one for the blonde college girl.

"M-me?" Callie asked, a slight quiver in her voice. "Why would you wanna know about me?"

It was only then that she realized that, much to her panic, the only subject she never visualized herself discussing with her hero was her own boring, mundane life.

"Is it so unusual that after becoming apprised of Duncan's situation my curiosity with regard to his ... ‘roommate’ might be piqued?" Monica queried.

Callie froze. Once again, Monica's tone left no room for debate on the question. Mortified at the prospect of not meeting some unstated expectations from the CEO, the college student's grip subconsciously tightened around her tiny roommate as she met the questioner with a deer-in-headlights stare.

"You should stop fighting it and just answer her questions," Duncan said in a slightly strained voice. "The woman is relentless. She's sans relent!"

Monica turned her attention to her puny protégé, offering him a scowl for his contribution to the conversation.

“Oh, uh, what I meant to say was … something positive?” Duncan shrugged.

Monica shook her head as she looked back to the road, resuming her drive as the light turned green.

“I’m confident they don’t suffer such nonsense at Goldman Sachs,” she muttered to herself.

Monica returned her focus to the road as the light changed green and the car started moving once again. Much like when the vehicle had stopped, Callie enjoyed feeling Duncan’s legs sway back and forth in her grip in those first few moments of acceleration.

Her driver for the morning wasn’t about to let her off the hook so easily, however.

“Since your nerves seem to have gotten the best of you for whatever reason, perhaps we should start with something simple, the most basic of questions,” Monica mused aloud before clearing her throat. “So, where are you from?”

Callie lowered her head in embarrassment. She noticed that Duncan was looking down over his right shoulder, toward her feet. It brought a small smile to her face to see him trying so hard to be a gentleman and not enjoy the view she was “unwittingly” providing him.

“The Midwest,” she said.

Monica shot Callie a quick, incredulous look, sparing only the briefest of moments from the road.

“That’s it?” Monica asked. “That’s not an insignificant region. Are you always this vague when people ask you this question?”

A derisive chuckle escaped Callie’s lips.

“That’s usually as far as I get before people start in with the jokes about corn and regional gas station chains,” she said.

Before Callie could continue, she heard laughter from below.

“In their defense, I lived in Indiana for a year as a kid, and that’s pretty much all it had,” Duncan said.

Callie glanced down excitedly at Duncan. If he lived in Indiana for a time, maybe he spent part of his childhood fairly close to where she grew up. She wasn’t sure why, but the thought made her happy.

“You lived in Indiana?!” she asked. “Which part?”

Without missing a beat, Duncan responded, “The part we’re not talking about right now because you’re the one getting interrogated.”

Suddenly, his face lit up with a mischievous grin, giving Callie a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach as he turned to face Monica.

“Ooh, ooh! Ask her who her hero is!” he yelled to Monica before turning back to Callie. “That should be fun!”

Callie tightened her grip around her little roommate just a tiny bit more, this time well aware of the squeeze, hearing a slight grunt escape the little man whose upper torso was clutched by her forefinger and thumb. Looking down with a mixture of annoyance and worry at using too much pressure to get her point across, she was both aggravated and relieved to find that same smug expression staring back at her.

Maybe she hadn’t squeezed hard enough.

“That’s not such a terrible suggestion,” Monica said, unaware of the playful tension building in the seat next to her as she kept her eyes on the road. “Tell me, Callie, who is your—Shit! Look out!”

Callie looked up in time to see the solid red brake lights of the car in front of them lit up despite there being no intersection in sight and no vehicle ahead of it. As she heard the screeching of their own vehicle’s tires and began to feel the full effects of Monica slamming on the brakes, Callie instinctively pulled her right hand into her body, opening her fingers to rest Duncan between her flat palm and the area just beneath the base of her collarbone.

As Monica’s Porsche stopped mere inches from the rear bumper of the car in front of it, Callie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Holy fuck that was close,” the blonde uttered, quickly covering her mouth with her left hand at using the unprofessional language in front of her hero.

A small shiver just above her breasts caught Callie’s attention. It was then that she remembered Duncan, who was still pinned to her body. But why did he shiver like that? He couldn’t be cold; if anything, her body heat was probably making things uncomfortably hot for him. Fear then? Not likely, as he wasn’t the type to scare easy and probably didn’t even have time to comprehend what happened.

My voice! she realized, remembering the slight vibration in her chest when she spoke.

After spending the weekend with Duncan, Callie had gradually become more aware of how even her most casual actions affected her little roommate: the way his face cringed slightly when she spoke too loudly or how he would sometimes struggle to keep his balance on the wobbly “kitchen table” if she approached too briskly, for example.

She quickly learned to walk and speak with less force while still maintaining a sense of normalcy. After all, Duncan never brought these issues up and even seemed to go out of his way to hide them. She understood that, as she didn’t like people fussing over her, either. So she did her best to make him more comfortable without being blatant about it.

But one thing Callie had never considered was how the very act of talking could affect Duncan beyond volume. The movement of her vocal cords alone were enough to get a response out of him—and such a pleasurable one at that! She hoped he had shivered because the vibration felt good to him, because it sure as shit felt good to her. It boggled her mind how his tiny touches could be so … stimulating!

Would it be weird if she let out a quiet little moan right now? You know, just to test her shiver theory?

“Are you two alright?” Monica asked breathlessly, pulling Callie from her thoughts.

Nervously, Callie removed her hand from her chest, softly wrapping her fingers around Duncan as it withdrew.

“I’m good,” she replied, glancing down at Duncan. “You?”

From Callie’s perspective, he looked dazed, flushed, and happy. She smiled with relief, grateful that her awkward moment had passed without incident.

“All good here,” Duncan said. “T-thanks.”

The two of them just stared at one another, unsure of what to say yet still feeling comfortable in the moment.

“Good,” Monica said. “Now, where were we?”

As traffic resumed, the near collision from seconds ago seemingly forgotten or ignored by those on the street, Callie felt her heart stop once again.

********

As Monica opened the door and stepped out of her car, she felt kind of guilty.

After spending most of the 25-minute drive across town questioning Callie, the businesswoman was starting to regret the way she had treated the younger girl in her office that morning. Monica had simply become too accustomed to dealing with the ruthless drones that typically roamed the office.

But Callie wasn’t like in the slightest. Monica found her to be a sweet, compassionate, and charmingly silly young woman, certainly not someone deserving of the same ire Monica reserved for those corporate shills who act cordial to her face while waiting to plant a knife in her back the moment she allows her guard to drop.

Legitimately kind and considerate people like Callie were simply a rarity in the business mogul’s life, one that she was beginning to quite enjoy in this case.

The feeling of something squirming in her right fist reminded Monica of another person in her life who shared such qualities.

Monica refused to show it, but she was elated when Duncan agreed to allow her to carry him from the parking lot to Callie’s apartment. Rather than keep him her blazer pocket, he had agreed to hide himself entirely within her grip.

As Monica felt his body shift, likely trying to find a more comfortable position against her closed hand, she considered giving him a quick, affectionate squeeze but thought better of it, instead simply loosening her fingers slightly to give her small cargo more room to stretch about.

Duncan’s … initial hesitance toward her in the office had hurt Monica, but she could hardly blame him for feeling that way. While she had always been fond of him and even tried to look out for him in his early days under her employ, her need to remain stoic and unflappable at all times often led to her intentions being … misinterpreted, if Duncan’s constant jokes and other efforts to have her “lighten up” were anything to go by.

So she was never able to simply laugh when she heard Duncan and Alyssia playfully mocking their stern fellow employees in the office or offer them friendly advice in a way that didn’t seem demanding. She never took either of her two favorite employees up on their invitations to lunch, and she never met them for drinks after work. Instead, she was too busy closing deals and buying companies.

The worst were the times that Monica tried to warn him about his girlfriend at the time, Kristie. From the moment she first saw that woman at the office Christmas party two years ago, Monica knew she was a bratty, self-centered bitch.

Still, Duncan defended the girl, standing up to Monica in a way no one had since she had led her first board meeting. While the CEO didn’t appreciate how heated he became each time one of those “discussions” took place, she respected his loyalty and his guts all the same.

Recalling Duncan’s story in her head, Monica knew there was more to his time under Kristie’s “care” than he let on. It was easy enough for the executive to fill in the blanks, however, and it made her blood boil to think about it.

To take her mind off that horrendous woman, Monica turned toward Callie as the pair approached the latter’s apartment door, keeping the swing of her right arm to a minimum as she watched the younger woman ahead of her insert a key into the door’s lock.

She’s definitely an upgrade from the last one, Monica mused as watched Callie open the door. Yes, I think … I think I approve.

As she stepped into the apartment, Monica lifted her right hand level with her chest and opened her hand palm side up, freeing Duncan from the confines of his fleshy hiding place.

“Whew!” he said as he hastily filled his lungs with fresh air. “It was a little hot in there but definitely better than the purse!”

Monica nodded, but she was too busy scanning the apartment to take note of Duncan’s words. Run down didn’t begin to describe this place, although she did her best to hide her disgust at the tacky living space and ugly kitchen with appliances older than she was. She certainly didn’t want to come off as snobbish or judgmental.

Perhaps she was just a little spoiled with her own living arrangements?

On the card table serving as Callie and Duncan’s dining room table, Monica couldn’t help but notice that the surface was cluttered with several unfamiliar odds and ends. Intrigued, she stepped into the kitchen rather than following Callie toward the couch, causing the hostess to course correct with an unexpected burst of excitement.

“I see our little project here has caught your eye,” Callie said giddily. “After I finished makin’ Duncan’s wardrobe and alterin’ the furniture for his place, we decided to, like, work on something together!”

Monica reached down and picked up what appeared to be a smoothly broken off piece of a paint stir stick covered in some sort of light foam padding and a layer of smooth material, with four legs made from halves of doll table legs and a pair of cut-down hair pins with mostly pinched-together ends attached to either side at one end.

“It’s a weight bench!” Callie explained.

The confusion must have been evident on Monica’s face, as Duncan decided to elaborate further.

“We decided to build me a makeshift gym,” he said. “We’re still working out the mechanics of the salmon ladder, though.”

Monica tilted her head quizzically as she stared down at the little man in the palm of her hand.

“Salmon ladder?” she asked.

Looking from Duncan to Callie, Monica could almost hear as much as see the younger woman’s eyes roll.

“Ugh, don’t even ask,” Callie groaned.

Duncan gave Callie a mean stare, immediately silencing his larger roommate. He then turned back to Monica.

“Anyway, I don’t know if you noticed, but fighting for survival for months on end can actually leave you pretty built,” he said with false braggadocio, flexing dramatically. “I figured I should try to keep in shape now that things aren’t quite so hard for me.”

Duncan’s act brought a giggle out of Callie and a knowing smirk out of Monica.

“Yeah,” Callie chimed in, “I called in from work on both Saturday and Sunday so we could work on the ladders and this stuff.”

Ladders? Monica looked around the room more carefully. The first one she noticed was the one leading from the floor to the tabletop in front of them. Wood craft sticks, glued both together and to one of the table’s legs until it curved inward, are stacked side by side up to the lip of the table, with half-toothpicks serving as the handholds for the improvised ladder.

The structure was also painted to match the color of the table legs, with the empty space between the curved leg and the tabletop being its only easily noticeable part. Now knowing what to look for, she identified several other such ladders in the kitchen and living room, each also blending into their surroundings.

“I told you that you didn’t have to call in for my sake,” Duncan said, bringing Monica’s attention back to him. “I hated seeing you lose out on some cash just to help me out. On the bright side, though, at least we got some studying in, right?”

Callie answered with another groan.

“Studying?” Monica asked.

The girls set out for the living room couch with Duncan along for the ride. Once they sat down, Monica slowly brought her hand to the coffee table in front of their shins, letting her tiny employee step off her palm. She reached for a nearby book on the table open to one of its early pages, looking to Callie for approval, which the co-ed gave with a nod.

Monica picked up the book, Advanced Business and Statistical Analysis and You, and began to thumb through the pages.

“You’re really quite lucky to have Duncan as a tutor for this sort of material,” Monica muttered as she absorbed the information on the pages. “I pay him good money to do exactly this sort of stuff for me.”

Callie stared down at Duncan with a look of shock and respect, as though he had been endorsed by the Pope for sainthood.

The two women chatted for a bit after that, with Duncan sitting silently at the edge of the table. Monica, soon realizing they were excluding their tiny friend, was about to ask him his opinion on something when she saw that he was looking down rather than up. Following his eyes, she discovered that his line of sight led right to Callie’s sandaled feet, a zoned-out look upon his face.

While driving over, Monica had noticed Duncan looking over his shoulder and down at his roommate’s feet from the corner of her eye. Recognizing the vacant look in his eyes now, she had to stop herself from smiling.

So Duncan has a little foot fetish, does he? she thought to herself.

Monica’s thoughts began to drift. Callie clearly had no idea what she was doing to the poor guy as her feet shifted idly on the floor. Monica wondered if he might be willing to be played with just a little bit. Nothing meaningful, just a bit of harmless enjoyment for the both of them. But then, was she willing to expose her real self like that, even to someone like Duncan?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cheery ringtone. Callie fished through her purse and checked who was calling her.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” Callie said. “Be right back?”

Monica nodded dumbly as Callie retreated to her room, stunned that such an opportunity had presented itself. In that moment, she made a decision.

It’s time to put the ice queen away for a while, she said to herself. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to let my hair down for once!

********

Callie anxiously walked back and forth across her bedroom while her mother informed her of the latest gossip spreading through their small town. She loved her parents very much and enjoyed hearing from them, but talking to them has always made her feel a little nervous, and this time was no exception.

It wasn’t long before one of the topics she dreaded most was brought up by her mother.

“So, you any closer to gettin’ that MRS degree?” her mother asked.

Callie stopped walking and pinched the bridge of her nose with her right thumb and index finger, her eyes closed as she exhaled sharply.

“No one’s said that since, like, the ‘80s, Mom,” she groaned. “And that’s not what I’m here for anyways.”

A short grunt let Callie know that her father was on the other end as well. She tensed up, preparing for the impact from whatever unfiltered comment was about to fly out of his mouth.

“Well, you can hardly blame your mother,” he said harshly. “With the way you dress most of the time, seems pretty obvious what you’re really after.”

Callie couldn’t stop a gasp from escaping her lips; that was just a little more unfiltered than she was expecting, not that she didn’t already know his opinion on her wardrobe. He’d made that well know throughout her high school years through his stern looks and head shaking damn near every time she left the house.

This was the first time he’d ever come right out and just said it so bluntly, though.

“I’m not tryin’ to be mean, sweetheart,” her father continued, softening his voice. “I’m worried about you is all. You dress a certain way, you attract a certain type of guy; that’s just the way it goes. If you wanna find somebody that badly, Jake just started workin’ with me in the shop, and he still asks about you."

Callie pulled the phone away from her ear as her mother’s squeal reached a pitch that Callie was pretty sure would deafen most dogs.

“Oh, I always thought you two would look so cute together!” the older woman said. “I don’t know why you never went out with him in high school.”

‘cause he’s a sexist jerk that pretty much said he’d treat me like property if we went out, Callie silently explained. “When you’re with me, you won’t be working.” Still can’t believe that asshole said that to my face!

“I don’t know, mom” she said instead. “I guess it just never worked out.”

Her father’s heavy sigh weighed down Callie’s spirit.

“Maybe … maybe it’s time for you to come home,” he said. “You’ve got some big goals, and I’m really proud of you for goin’ for it like you have, but it just doesn’t seem to be workin’ out.”

Callie’s left hand balled into a fist at her side as she could feel her frustration rising.

“Not workin’ out?!” she questioned. “I’ve got a 3.9 GPA!”

This did little to impress her father, however, as few things often did.

“Yeah, but most of your first two years was just your electives, right?” he asked. “Now that you’re gettin’ into the stuff you wanna learn, you’re strugglin’.”

Callie shook her head with her phone still to her ear, as though her parents could see her.

“It’s just one class, Daddy,” she said. “And I’m gonna get that turned around.”

When Professor Stillwell had first come on to her, Callie’s first thought was to tell her parents. But she had quickly dismissed that idea, as she knew there wasn’t really anything they could do to help. After all, the professor was a regular in the Op/Ed section of The New York Times and her parents were the kind of simple country folk that readers of the Op/Ed section of The New York Times loved to look down on.

If she thought they might at least give her some moral support, she may have told them anyway, but she already knew exactly who her father would say is responsible for the professor’s attraction to her. No, it was better if she told her parents as little as possible about the professor’s class and just dealt with their disappointment.

“I was just offerin’ a suggestion, sweetheart,” her father said. “You know your mother and I will support you the best we can, but just remember that we can’t afford to help you pay for an extra semester if you fail a class. Things are tight here, and I know they are for you, too. I just don’t wanna see you set yourself up for failure is all.”

Now it was Callie’s turn to give a heavy sigh.

“I know, Daddy,” she said.

After a brief silence, Callie’s mother steered the conversation away from her college life, catching Callie up on the latest happenings with their extended family. Callie welcomed the topic change, resuming her pacing as she listened to her mother drone on about the love lives of her cousins and her favorite aunt’s divorce.

********

After the first few minutes of dead air in the living room, it was Duncan who decided to break the silent standoff.

“So how are things at the office?” he asked.

Monica stared straight ahead, seemingly giving the inquiry little thought.

“Things are going well,” she responded, following up with a pregnant pause. “So how long have you been into feet?”

Duncan did a literal double take as his brain took a few seconds to process Monica’s question.

“WHAT?!” he yelled.

Monica tilted her head downward, facing Duncan with a sly smirk across her face.

“I’ve been to enough conferences in Tokyo to know what a foot fetish looks like,” she said.

Fetish? Duncan repeated the word in his head a few times. That couldn’t be right, could it? There’s no way he had a foot fetish. At least, that’s what he told himself. But it was hard to deny that he had found his attention being drawn to Callie’s colossal feet more and more ever sense he faceplanted between her toes a few days ago.

So if he couldn’t deny, maybe deflection would prove a more useful tactic.

“Wait, is that what those conferences are for?” Duncan asked.

Monica rolled her eyes at him.

“Yes Duncan,” she said, “while we’re comparing third-quarter numbers and discussing buyout strategies, I’ll have several short Japanese men sucking on my toes and licking my heels. It’s just how business is done over there.”

For a split second, Duncan felt his jaw quite literally drop.

Did the ice queen just make a joke?! And was that an eye roll? he asked himself in awestruck wonder. The fuck is happening right now?

Duncan was quick to recover, however. After all, he was more than happy to steer the conversation as far away from his supposed fetish as possible.

Short Japanese men?” he questioned with a smirk. “Care to rephrase? You might give our new DEI director a heart attack if she hears stuff like that coming out of the mouth of our fearless leader.”

Monica flashed Duncan a smug smile.

“I have nothing to do with that program,” she said. “That’s what employees are for.”

Suddenly, with a speed and grace betraying its size, Monica’s lithe right leg swung out from under the edge of the coffee table. The heel of her foot crashed mercilessly against the tabletop directly in front of Duncan, the impact of the mighty collision knocking him over and leaving the wooden surface beneath his butt shaking for several seconds afterward.

“But if you’re quite finished trying to change the subject,” she said, “perhaps we could get back to the business at hand.”

Monica’s toes wiggled high above, entrancing Duncan as the gentle swish of her pantyhose rubbing against her foot filled his ears. He slowly rose back to his feet, his eyes only straying from the wriggling digits for long enough to notice that her leg was still quite bent as her knee stretched even higher into the air. He vaguely registered that he would have been flattened if it had straightened itself out before it’s assault on the ground under his feet.

“Now, I know these may not be the particular feet you want to be under, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun exploring this new … interest of yours,” she said with her right eyebrow raised.

Not the feet I want to be under? Duncan questioned internally. What does she mean by that?

“Go on,” Monica interrupted his thoughts, her voice soft and inviting, yet carrying with it an edge of authority. “Touch it.”

Duncan, unsure whether it was by her will or his own, approached her right heel. He could feel the heat coming off the monolithic foot as he stood before it. The vinegary smell wafting from it reminded him of just how early she always started her work day.

His right hand gravitated toward the lower arch of Monica’s nylon-covered sole, just above the heel, his palm pushing into the fabric near eye level. Moisture flowed through the stocking and between his fingers as he applied pressure against her foot flesh. Almost subconsciously, he traced a lone wrinkle across the width of her foot, having to stretch his arm to cover the distance.

“Oh fuck!” she moaned.

Monica’s eyes widened more than Duncan had ever seen before. She brought her right fist to her mouth and cleared her throat.

“Uh, I mean, your little hands certainly … exceed expectations,” she said, slowly regaining her composure. “And I don’t see why we can’t push things just a bit further.”

Duncan was caught be surprise as Monica’s foot rammed into the front end of his body, pressing ahead like a silky black freight train as it shoved him toward the table’s center. Her foot sweat drenched his chest and face as he was carried away by the runaway sole, some of it dripping into his mouth.

This actually tastes different from Callie’s, he noted mentally. Wait, am I really comparing the taste of women’s foot sweat right now? What’s wrong with me?!

Duncan’s ride came to an abrupt halt as he was lost in thought. The full stop didn’t slow his momentum, however. He was flung from the foot, landing on his back a few of his feet away from his involuntary ride.

“Hey, no laying down on the job,” Monica giggled.

As Duncan stood back up, he was able to briefly wrestle his gaze away from the giant CEO’s foot in front of him. Trailing along the incredible distance of her shin, it’s milk-chocolate skin just visible through the soft fabric of her dark nylons, his surprisingly eager eyes fell upon her leg’s now-flattened knee cap.

A quick glance at his surroundings revealed to the small subordinate that he had been transported from near the edge of the table to more than halfway across its surface. He wasn’t sure which realization left him more in awe: that he could travel such a distance in so short a time or that the impressive distance of his trip didn’t even equate to the entire length of his boss’s curvaceous lower leg.

Duncan’s attention was swiftly drawn to Monica’s shimmering brown eyes, which met his own stare as the two of them studied one another.

“Rub,” she said.

Absent from Monica’s voice was the commanding undertone from minutes before. Taking its place was a sense if yearning, and it seemed to Duncan that she was almost begging rather than demanding. Not that it mattered.

He was compelled to obey.

Led by his extended arms, Duncan stepped forward in a trance-like state. His fingertips made contact with Monica’s foot, spreading across the smooth black expanse to make way for his palms to touch down on the slightly damp sole. His fingers squeezed gently at the flesh hiding under the frictionless material as his hands caressed the meaty ped with slow, deliberate strokes.

He felt muscles tense and loosen at his touch as the executive curled her toes overhead. Her foot flexed as his probing fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, the base of its ball descending enough to scrape the hair atop his head before straightening out. He worked through the disturbance, barely registering that anything had taken place.

A quiet moan echoed from on high, probably hushed enough to not be heard across the room but plenty boisterous to him, Duncan realized. It motivated him to push harder, squeeze tighter, stretch further. Anything to hear that sound again. Choosing to ignore the logical questions sitting in the deep recesses of his brain, he instead focused on surface level thoughts, such as wondering just how loud he could make her get or if he could make her whimper instead of moan or even if—

“Sorry about that,” Callie said as she reentered the room. “If I don’t answer by the third ring, my mom’ll think I’m layin’ in a ditch somewhere!”

Duncan froze at the sound of his roommate’s voice, his hands still on Monica’s sole. He felt a slight twitch as Monica made to pull her foot away but stopped because of his continuing presence on it. Thinking fast as senses came back to him, Duncan, rather than moving away from the foot put his right arm at his side, leaning semi-casually into the appendage with his left hand, arm straight and ankles crossed.

“Um, what are you doing?” Callie asked as she approached the table.

Duncan kept his hand on Monica’s foot but leaned forward to hide his shrinking but still present erection. Apparently all the blood was rushing from his penis to his now fully flushed face due to his embarrassment.

“Oh, uh, just relaxing,” he answered. “What’s, uh, what’s more relaxing than a good lean, am I right?”

What the hell was that? Duncan thought to himself. More relaxing than a good lean? And did I really just end on a “am I right”?! Fuck, I used to be good at lying my way out of shit.

“Um, yes, Duncan wanted a place to … lean, I suppose, and I just so happened to have the desire to rest my foot on the table,” Monica jumped in with uncharacteristic nervousness. “It just seemed as though our wants were compatible, so we figured why not just combine them.”

While sounding a bit more eloquent than his own explanation, Duncan found the CEO’s own cover to be no more believable. They were busted, for sure. Not that they were doing anything wrong, but God was it humiliating. All that was left now was for Callie to call them out on their bullshit and spend at least the next week having a laugh at his expense. Because there was no way she bought that nonsense.

“Oh, okay,” Callie said. “Makes sense.”

Slowly moving her foot off the table after giving Duncan time to remove his hand from it, Monica slipped her shoes on and stood up.

“As much as I’d like to stay and continue chatting, I really should be going,” Monica said, shifting her gaze from Callie to Duncan. “I’ll have Alyssia bring over what you’ll need to work from here as soon as she has finished preparations for my trip to Tokyo this afternoon.”

Callie’s mouth dropped open in awe.

“Japan? Seriously?!” she asked.

Despite Callie posing the question, Monica made direct eye contact with Duncan, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Quite,” she answered. “I never joke about Tokyo.”

Duncan was left stunned as Monica winked down at him before leaving the apartment. He was unsure if it was the shock at his boss’s parting words or his desire to hide his arousal at them that kept him staring at the door even after she was gone. Only a large plopping noise from behind broke him from his trance.

“Tokyo,” Callie said dreamily as she let herself fall onto the couch. “So cool.”

As Duncan turned away from the door and toward his giant roommate, two questions swirled inside his head: What the hell just happened and why did it keep making him so hard?


Callie vs. the Titillating Test

Word Count: 11070
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

 The chapter title should give you a pretty good idea as far as what type of content this one's going to have.

 “And you think you can do that remotely?” he asked. “Without me going to the lab?”

Duncan stood in his makeshift office, flanked on either side by 10-inch tablet screens held in place by their respective tablet stands and displaying graphs, charts, and various corporate statistics. Directly in front of him was a large smartphone stretching horizontally with four inches of space separating either side from the edge of each tablet. The phone was set up to control all three screens because of its reachability.

His focus was solely on that central screen, or rather the man displayed on it. Dr. Reutger Catamaunt, one of the foremost experts on theoretical physics in the world, with PhD’s in multiple fields of science Duncan had never heard of, had reached out to him after Monica set up a meeting between them. However, despite his boss’s assurances, him being a scientist made Duncan feel uneasy.

And right now, that scientist’s eyes were narrowed on Duncan.

“I guess I’ll just have to, won’t I?” he responded. “After all, I wouldn’t want you having to deal with us ‘mad scientist’ types. Noooo, we couldn’t possibly see you as anything other than as some sort of lab rat. Ethics certainly aren’t a thing here, no sir!”

Sitting up on the tiny beanbag chair in the center of his “office,” Duncan subconsciously started rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he said, “I didn’t mean any offense—”

Reutger was quick to cut him off, however.

“Oh, no offense taken on this end!” he said. “You only assumed that we would be blatantly unprofessional and inhumane if we were to ever have you come into the lab. What’s there to be upset about?”

Duncan gave a nervous chuckle.

“Okay, you’re coming in a little hot with the sarcasm,” he said. “I guess I can understand where you’re coming from, though. But also, come on. Even your name sounds a little mad scientisty. I mean, I’m kind of surprised you don’t have a thick German accent to go with it.”

This time, Reutger’s face went blank.

“So now my name and ancestry are the problem?” he asked. “Sarcasm aside, your apologies need some work.”

Duncan rose to his feet, throwing up his hands in surrender.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I swear humor is just my defense mechanism when I’m nervous. It’s … it’s not easy to trust people when you’re my size, so please understa—”

The sound feminine laughter drew Duncan’s attention away from his own words as the bedroom door swung open. Looking over his shoulder and to his left, just past the tablet edge opposite the phone, he could make out Callie as she stepped into the room dressed in a plain gray sweatsuit. She made eye contact with him almost immediately.

“Oh, sorry, gotta go,” she whispered. “I think he’s, like, in a meeting or something. Bye!”

Callie lowered the phone from her ear and tiptoed closer to her desk, which just so happened to be where his office was located. The tremors from her steps lightly caressed his body as she approached. Just how much weight Callie had learned to take off her footsteps over the past few weeks never ceased to amaze him.

Now towering over the tablet to his left, she looked straight down at him as he craned his neck to meet her gaze. Her plush pink-glossed lips mouthed “Sorry” down to him.

“No, it’s fine,” Duncan answered aloud. “I was just video chatting with Dr. Catamaunt, talking things out. So you’re not interrupting work or anything.”

Callie’s face lit up at the mention of the scientist’s name.

“Ooh, Monica was just talking about him,” she said. “Can I see?”

A slight nod was all Callie needed, apparently. Duncan watched as her head lowered to the desk, her right cheek laying on its surface as her smiling face filled most of the background behind him. Strands of her straight blonde hair scattered about the desk, a few strands falling on either side of Duncan and his now vacant seat.

“Hi!” she greeted the man on the screen cheerily. “I’m Callie, Duncan’s roommate. It’s an honor to meet someone so distinguished!”

The startled scientist fell over backward in his chair at the sight of Callie. She gave Duncan a confused look as Reutger flipped his seat back over. Duncan just gave her a shrug and looked back at the screen.

“My God!” he said as he sat back down. “I-I knew you were … diminished, and I had even used items here in the office as a reference for your new size, but to actually see it in comparison to another person …”

 Reutger took a breath to calm himself before continuing.

“I understand your position now,” he said. “Please forgive my rudeness earlier, although I assure you that you would be treated the same as any other person here if you were to—”

Duncan raised his right hand in front of him, with the Reutger taking the hint and cutting himself off.

“I appreciate that, doc,” Duncan said. “Really I do. But I just don’t feel comfortable with that.”

Reutger nodded in response.

“That shouldn’t be a major problem,” he said. “We will, however, need to find a lab tech of some sort, someone who can properly procure, handle, and ship samples taken from you. Once they arrive, assuming they’ve been properly stored for the trip, I should be able to conduct my research from the lab without issue.”

Duncan jumped slightly as Callie’s left hand appeared in the sky above him, lowering itself over the tablet to his left. It came to a rest on its pinkie, palm-side facing him. Her fingers curled halfway around him protectively, splitting her index finger from her middle one, giving him a window from which to view the screen.

“So we have to tell someone else about Duncan?” she asked. “Like, couldn’t I just do that stuff?”

The unease in Callie’s voice was something Duncan found both touching and relatable.

“I’m afraid not,” Reutger answered. “There are some things I’ll need from this lab tech that will require some scientific skill. It doesn’t even need to be someone with a degree, but they should have some scientific background. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the nondisclosure agreement Ms. Shale required me to sign, I won’t be able to send anybody from here, so you’ll need to find this person yourself, Mr. Brenadine.”

 Duncan folded his arms atop Callie’s middle finger as he bent forward. Closing his eyes, he basked in the gentle heat emanating from her hand both below and above him.

Aah, I feel like I’m back on that hotel balcony in Maui watching the sun set all over again, he mused.

With a soft sigh, Duncan reopened his eyes, the stress brought on Reutger’s words exiting his body as he exhaled. His right hand passively rubbed the digit’s smooth ridges as he carefully considered the scientists words.

“Understood,” he said. “We’ll figure something out and get back with you.”

With that settled for the time being, the three of them discussed a few more details about Duncan’s condition, Reutger signed off, leaving the two roomies to themselves.

********

Callie picked her head off of her desk as she watched Duncan walk out of his office space. Her eyes stayed on him as he walked across the top of the desk and toward the shoebox he has been calling home for the past three weeks.

Looking over the shoebox, she couldn't help but admire her handiwork.

Like a tiny modular home, the box was elevated by a pair of pink rectangular erasers lining each corner. The box itself was painted charcoal blue lined with a black roof, with cleanly cut fragments of white curtains visible through the perfectly carved windows on all sides. White-painted stairs and railing made from small, thin blocks of wood led up to the doorway, which itself was a medium gray in color.

But Duncan’s home wasn't the only thing about him that caught Callie's attention.

She couldn’t help but admire his tight little ass in those navy blue shorts as he strode across the smooth wooden surface. Maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if she just reached out and gave it a quick pinch between her forefinger and thumb. You know, as a joke. That’s the kind of joke roommates play on each other, right?

Jesus, Callie! She chastised herself. We’ve been over this. You gotta stop havin’ these thoughts!

Rather than entering his home, Duncan leaned his back against the side of the box facing Callie. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair before crossing his arms over his chest and propping his right foot on the side of the wall behind him as well.

She had to admit that she was impressed with how good he had gotten at using that sliver of razor blade to cut his hair. He looked so good with it cut that short.

His hair! she corrected herself. His hair looked so good cut that short.

Not wanting Duncan to strain his neck staring up at her, Callie sank into a deep crouch, reminding her of her softball days behind the plate. Her head was still well above the desk, and she had to brush her hair behind her ears to keep it from falling on the desk as she tilted her chin down to keep eye contact with her tiny roomie.

“So how was professor dipshit’s class today?” he asked her.

Callie could feel her lips involuntarily curl into a frown. Between her call with Monica and meeting Dr. Catamaunt, she had momentarily put the bad news out of her mind. She wouldn’t have minded a few more minutes before having to face reality once again.

“He’s moving the midterm up. By a lot,” she responded. “It’s on Wednesday now.”

Duncan immediately stopped leaning on the wall of the shoebox, taking a couple of swift steps forward.

“This Wednesday?!” he exclaimed. “That’s in two days! We were supposed to have another couple weeks!”

The weight of hearing someone else say it aloud pulled Callie’s head even lower, leaving her staring at her lanky arms as they criss-crossed across her bent knees.

“I know,” she said. “Even if we cram, I-I don’t think we have enough time to get me caught up on everything.”

The pitter-patter of teeny tiny bare feet brought Callie’s eyes back up to her desk. Duncan was pacing now, the back of his beige shirt trailing behind him as he walked back and forth in front of her, rubbing his chin all the while.

“You’re right,” he spoke after a short while, still pacing. “You’ve actually done a hell of a job taking in the material so far, but there’s just too much left to throw at you in two days. So it looks like we’ll have to do this the easy way.”

Callie blinked a few times as she tried to process what Duncan had just said.

“Easy way?” she queried. “What do you mean the easy way?”

Duncan stopped his march and turned to face Callie.

“Cheat,” he answered. “We’re going to cheat.”

This got a sharp gasp out of Callie.

“Cheat? But I never cheated at anything in my life,” she said, pausing to consider whether she wanted to say what she was thinking. “H-how would we even do it?”

A mischievous smirk crossed Duncan’s face.

“You’re going to sneak me into the exam, and I’m going to tell you the answers,” he said. “It’s pretty simple, really.”

Callie felt a sudden rush of frustration at Duncan’s nonchalant tone.

“Simple?!” she raised her voice. “That sounds so risky! I know we kind of did this when we went to see Monica, that was just with one person in a quiet office. This’ll be, like, a whole roomful of people. Just think of all the shit that could happen to you out there!”

Seeing the cringe on Duncan’s face made Callie immediately regret her outburst, even if she did stand by her point. Before she could apologize, however, he had already started to respond.

“Believe me, I know all about what could happen out there,” he said with just a touch of harshness as he pointed toward her bedroom window. “But that doesn’t mean I’m just going to sit back and let that bastard screw you over like that!”

Stopping to take a deep breath, Duncan relaxed his tone before continuing.

“You don’t deserve any of this, and I can actually do something about it,” he explained. “I’m not afraid to take a little risk for that. So please, let me help you out here.”

While she was still worried about exposing Duncan to such an unpredictable environment, Callie couldn’t help but be touched by his words. She couldn’t find the right words to describe the way it made her feel to see him fight for her like that, in a way that nobody has before.

How could she say no to that?

“Easy way it is, then,” Callie said. “But if we do this, you’re still gonna keep helpin’ me learn the stuff I need to catch up on. Like, I’m not tryin’ to scam my way through class. This is a one time thing. Got it?”

This time, Duncan’s smile was a genuine one.

“Got it,” he said.

 The two of them stared at one another in a moment of comfortable quiet. Feeling a sudden urge to be a bit closer to her little friend, Callie folded her arms, right over left on top of the desk directly in front of her, lowering her chin on her right forearm as she leaned in.

Her knees hit the ground, and she noticed him stumble slightly following the impact, although he kept his feet just fine. She felt only the tiniest bit of guilt as a smug smirk crept across her face, nagging herself to be more careful next time.

As usual, Duncan said nothing about the minor incident, instead opting to break the silence with a question.

“Did Stillwell say why he bumped up the midterm?” he asked. “From what I remember, he’s usually pretty particular when it comes to changing stuff like that.”

Before answering, Callie lazily blew a puff from her mouth to push some stray bangs out of her eyes. She had to suppress a giggle when she saw that the burst of air had caused Duncan to stumble backward a couple steps.

“He didn’t,” she replied after regaining her composure. “But I think it mighta been because of me. His lectures are startin’ to make a little sense, thanks to you, and even though he still … stares at me, I feel more, like, confident now, even when he tries to talk to me. So maybe he picked up on that and is tryin’ to throw me off my game or something?”

While Duncan nodded along with her theory, Callie could tell he wasn’t giving her his full attention. His eyes were locked onto her arms until he realized that she had stopped speaking. He looked up at her, his mouth slightly open before closing itself. It was clear to her that he wanted to say something but was hesitant to do so.

Whether he was trying to be polite or was concerned by what her reaction would be, she didn’t like him feeling as though there were things he couldn’t say to her.

“Out with it already,” Callie chided softly.

It took Duncan two more tries before he finally seemed to find the words he was looking for.

“It’s just … I hate that you let that piece of shit control you like that,” he said.

Callie’s brow furled in confusion, but before she could ask Duncan what he meant, the little man was already speaking once again.

“Shit, that came out wrong,” he said. “I just meant that I don’t like how him being a gross fucking lech makes you feel like you have to dress differently. Does that make sense?”

Looking down at her sleeves, Callie now understood what Duncan meant. A hooded sweatshirt and sweatpants wasn’t an ideal combination for mid-spring, especially not in this area. And obviously he’d know why she was wearing them, given his personal knowledge of her situation with Professor Stillwell.

“Yeah, I get that,” she replied. “Honestly, though, if I had the cash for it, I’d have changed my whole wardrobe by now. Like, I love what’s in my closet, but I gotta make sure something like this doesn’t happen again.”

Now it was Duncan’s turn to wear a confused look.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked.

Raising her chin from her arm and straightening her back, Callie shrugged her shoulders.

“You know, I gotta do my part, too,” she answered. “Yeah, Stillwell’s, like, a total perv, but it’s not like I did myself any favors wearin’ short skirts and crop tops to his class. Lookin’ back, of course I got on his radar dressin’ like that.”

Callie was surprised to see the stunned expression on Duncan’s face. Was there something wrong with what she said?

“Are you trying to say it’s your fault he’s doing this to you?” he asked.

The blonde shook her head.

“Not entirely,” she said. “Not everybody’s gonna be like him. But if you dress a certain way, you’re gonna attract a certain type of guy, ya know?”

Duncan threw his hands in the air and let them fall into his thighs in an exasperated fashion.

“Uh, not to be mean, but that’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard,” he said. “That ‘certain type of guy’ is going to creep on you no matter what you wear. That’s their fault, not yours!”

Could it really be that simple? There was no way. She had to have done something to bring this on herself. She had to be responsible somehow. All this guilt had to come from somewhere.

“B-but … I—” she stammered.

The agitated, almost angry look on Duncan’s face stopped Callie cold.

“Has he stopped staring at you in class since you started dressing like this?” he asked.

He hadn’t, Callie realized. She had kept herself completely covered for more than a month, yet she had never stopped feeling his eyes on her. Could … could Duncan be right?

“N-no,” she answered, “but, like, maybe he would have never—”

Duncan cut her off once again.

“Nope,” he said. “Some of the girls on the ‘curve list’ dressed a lot more conservative than you do, so it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Callie could see the anger building in Duncan through his aggressive hand gestures as he kept talking.

“And even it would have, fuck that!” he yelled. “Why should you have to change because someone else can’t not be a sick, disgusting fuck?! I mean, you like the way you usually dress, right?”

I do! Callie thought. He’s right! I shouldn’t have to give that up because of some pervert!

Duncan’s rage became contagious as Callie found her sense of guilt swiftly being replaced with anger. Anger at Professor Stillwell. Anger at her parents. Anger at herself. How could she have let herself feel like that? Let others make her feel like that? The realization was as frustrating as it was liberating!

But those feelings faded into the background as she looked back down at Duncan, and she couldn’t help but smile.

Rather than answer his question, she scooped him up in her right hand and raised him level with her glistening eyes. Duncan's muscular butt brushed across her palm as he scooted back toward her thumb, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep in a small moan.

It wasn’t a pinch, but it was satisfying enough. For now.

 “We’ll just call that last question rhetorical then, I guess,” Duncan said.

Those words caught Callie off guard, dragging her thoughts back to the conversation.

“Fuck you,” she awkwardly chuckled. “Also, thank you.”

Duncan took a moment to sit in quiet contemplation in Callie’s hand, his back warming the middle of her thumb, before speaking once more.

“You’re a lot nicer than I am,” he said. “If it were me, I would have found a way to throw that shit back in his face.”

Callie shot her little palm passenger a curious look.

“Like, how?” she asked.

Duncan lowered his head, staring blankly at the other side of Callie’s palm.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just know that I hate it when people try to make me feel like that. Like I’m the problem when I know I’m not. It pisses me off, and I always feel like I have to do something about it. That actually got me into trouble a lot as a kid, but it was worth it, every time.”

Duncan’s words struck Callie deep. That’s exactly how she used to feel, like everything was her fault even when a part of her knew it wasn’t true. Realizing this now left her with a torrent of pent up emotions that suddenly needed release. She wasn’t keen on the getting into trouble part, but “doing something about it” sounded so freeing!

Throw that shit back in his face, huh, she mused.

Staring at Duncan, a particular idea came to mind.

 ********

With the sewing needle overhead clasped in Duncan’s hands as it was secured evenly by the set of rungs on either side of him, his hanging legs were bent and crossed at the shin as he began to sway slightly as he began to make his move up to the salmon ladder’s next level.

The rungs themselves were tiny wooden blocks, each paired together to his left and right to create six levels with roughly a half inch separating each level. The blocks were cut at a slope and angled on an incline to better receive the needle and keep it straight as the climber elevated to each level.

The blocks were held in place by two long, thin wooden poles standing vertically about two inches apart. Below, the poles connected to the points in which two planks laid parallel on the ground met a third plank laid the opposite way that joined them together at their respective midpoints.

Taking a deep breath, Duncan used his growing momentum to his advantage he propelled himself from the second set of rungs to the third level, ignoring the burning pain that seemed to seep into every muscle in his upper body.

I think I’m finally starting to get this down, he assured himself.

Not taking his usual moment to rest between rungs, Duncan pulled himself up and exploded upward from his core and shoulders, both exposed by his lack of a shirt, as he pushed the needle to the next set of rungs before swiftly repeating the process twice more to reach the sixth.

“I did it!” he exclaimed. “Now all I need is a warped wa—”

Duncan felt a pair of eyes watching him, looking over his right shoulder and skyward to find Callie staring at him, an odd look on her face. Sweat raining down from his brow stung his eyes before he could get a good look, however.

“Like, I still can’t believe you had us build that thing,” she said, a slight tremble in her voice.

Adjusting his grip to face the opposite way and shaking the sweat off his face, Duncan was better able to take her in.

He was instantly drawn to the bow of the pink tie up crop top that ended just beneath her breasts, giving him fresh ideas for his Christmas list next year. Before he could pull his eyes away, he couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Even still, her breasts refused to yield to gravity; those pert tears weren’t dropping anytime soon.

Past the miles of immaculate skin covering her exposed torso were a pair of jean shorts cut so high that they would earn a scoff from Daisy Duke herself. From his heightened position, his eyes were able to trail down the acres of leg before the edge of the nightstand upon which his gym was housed cut off his view at mid-shin.

Duncan wasn’t sure if it was the shock at seeing his roommate dressed so scantily or the distraction of his imagination working into overdrive that caused him to release his grip. As he fell, he heard a gasp from above and saw Callie trying to bring her hand down to catch him. He landed on his feet, however, bending his knees as he landed to absorb the impact, though his eyes never left her body.

“Jesus, are you alright?” she asked. “You gotta be more careful!”

Duncan shook off his less-than-pure thoughts at the sound of Callie’s voice.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ve fallen from higher and been just fine.”

Callie gave Duncan a slight frown before seeming to shrug off the incident.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask your opinion on my outfit,” she said. “Is it too much?”

Too much? Duncan repeated internally. There’s barely anything there. Not that I’m complaining!

“I mean for Professor Stillwell,” Callie said, seemingly reading his mind. “Like, I thought about what you said before, and if he wants me so bad, what better way to throw it in his face than to show him what he’ll never have!”

The idea stunned Duncan. Two days ago they were debating about her wearing winter clothes to a spring class, and today she’s heading to that same class dressed like spring break incarnate. He wasn’t sure if he agreed with her logic or if this would serve as a punishment of sorts for the predatory professor.

But he loved seeing this newfound confidence from her and even felt a little pride in the thought that he may have helped bring it out of her. And if that meant that he had to endure looking at her gorgeous body on full display all day long, so be it!

“It’s perfect,” Duncan said.

Callie’s bright smile melted his heart.

“Yay!” she cheered. “I-I don’t dress like this too much, and I was scared I mighta overdone it. But now that I know I nailed it, I’m so happy! Thanks, Duncan!”

Still smiling, Callie lowered her right hand next to Duncan.

“The midterm is in an hour, and I went ahead and swapped in warm water in your bathroom if you were thinkin’ of gettin’ cleaned up before we head out,” she said. “I can, like, give you a lift, unless you wanna work on your cardio more.”

Without taking time to think about it, Duncan stepped into her waiting hand.

“Nah, I think I’m going to soak a bit, so I suppose I’ll let you save me some time,” he said.

Callie lifted her hand faster than usual, giggling as Duncan fell face first into her palm.

“How nice of you,” she rolled her eyes as she spoke. “Come on, let’s go.”

Duncan couldn’t help but laugh as well, pushing himself back onto his feet for the short and otherwise smooth trip across the bedroom to his shoebox home.

********

Callie was used to getting looked at on her walks to campus but not like this.

From fellow college students to middle-aged men and women, she could feel their eyes on her as she walked past them, her cheeks burning at the attention. Part of her was beginning to think that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

At the same time, Callie couldn’t deny how empowering it felt to turn so many heads as she casually walked down the public sidewalks just like any other day. That feeling clashed hard against her embarrassment, but it was one particular reaction that motivated her to keep moving forward.

That look on Duncan’s face when he saw me, she remembered with a haughty smirk as she looked down at her body. Worth it for that alone!

Of course, Callie had little room to talk. He had almost caught her staring when he was absolutely crushing that salmon ladder earlier. Thinking back on those sweat-soaked abs and muscles at work, she was starting to think that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Besides, she wasn’t doing this for Duncan, right? This was about taking control and not letting her gross professor make her feel powerless anymore. Still, Duncan’s reaction, both spoken and unspoken, gave her a much-needed shot of confidence to step out of her comfort zone and pull this off.

Callie gave the purse at her side a few gentle pats, vaguely feeling her little roomie’s form through the leather.

As she rounded a street corner, putting the university in sight, she stopped for a moment as a gray cat approached her from the grass between a pair of houses.

“Hey Bailey!” Callie said to the cat as it rubbed itself against her ankles. “No food from me yet, girl. I’ll try to grab you something after class, ‘kay?”

After petting Bailey for a few minutes, making sure to keep her body between the cat and her purse at all times, she stood back up and resumed her walk. It didn’t take long to reach campus.

Soon Callie was walking past her classroom, heading instead for the nearest bathroom and the first available stall. She set her purse in her lap and unzipped it, peering into the opening to find a slightly disheveled Duncan laying on the opened side of a plastic package of tissues.

So fuckin’ cute! she thought, biting her tongue to make sure she didn’t say it aloud.

“Was the trip over okay?” she asked instead.

Squinting with his hand shielding his eyes from the sudden change in lighting, it took Duncan a second to respond.

“Yeah, no problems here,” he replied.

The answer made Callie’s heart melt. She knew that he hated riding in her purse. He had made that clear after the trip to Monica’s office a few weeks ago, a complaint that registered with her because he rarely complained about anything. So for him to pretend that it didn’t bother him for her sake meant a lot to her.

“Well, let’s get you out of there and all set up,” she said.

And with that, she reached into the purse to collect her new favorite exam aid.

********

The walk back to the lecture hall was a little rocky for Duncan.

Holding on to a few strands of honey-blonde hair, he was able to keep his balance atop Callie’s shoulder near the base of her neck as her steps shook the skin on which he was standing. He could tell that she was walking slowly, trying to be careful as she entered the lecture hall, but he found the ride from his new vantage point significantly less stable than traveling in her hands.

Callie had been concerned about this once she had hidden him away behind her hair, almost backing out of the plan at the last second, but Duncan wasn’t about to let her go it alone like that. He assured her that everything would turn out fine, and he assured himself that he could make do if anything didn’t.

The quaking stopped as she took her seat at the end of the center third of the back row. Only stairs leading down to the front of the class and the distant third to her right were visible as Duncan looked straight ahead with his back pressed against the side of her neck.

He had already adapted to the jasmine scent of Callie’s lightly applied perfume, but the feeling of her pulse beneath his feet, while not enough to unsteady him, was a surprisingly wild sensation to experience. The thumping beneath his feet blended with the thin rays of artificial light slicing through a curtain of hair to give his concealed perch an alien feel.

Duncan turned toward Callie’s front and carefully made his way to the point in which her golden locks touched down against the base of her shoulder, being mindful of the steep slope along the way. Pushing aside the hair on either side like a bead curtain, he looked down at the slide-out desk below to see that the exam and a scantron answer sheet were being set down by her left hand, likely circulated row-by-row by the students themselves.

“Lazy asshole won’t even hand out his own exams,” he muttered.

A sudden jolt thrusted Duncan forward with surprising force, like being in a car crash without wearing a seat belt. His grip tightened on the silky locks he had been holding with his right hand, as his left came up to mimic it.

The toes of his left foot had just managed to tuck themselves into the underside of Callie’s collarbone, leaving his body hanging horizontally as they served as the only thing preventing him from having to swing in order to keep from falling. His right leg bicycle kicked in the air a few times before he was able to hook his other foot onto the collarbone as well.

A relatively small gasp caused Duncan to turn to his left, where he saw Callie frozen mid-nod. It wasn’t hard for him to piece together what had happened. She had heard his grumbling complaint about her professor and wanted to silently express her solidarity with him. He just hadn’t been ready for it, and the power of her neck muscles had nearly bucked him off her.

Callie’s left index finger came for him with careful urgency. Her fingertip gently pushed against his chest, standing him back up in his former position. Even from his limited vantage point beside her face, he could clearly make out her worried expression.

“I’m good. It was an accident, so don’t even worry about it,” Duncan reassured her. “Besides, it could have been way worse: You could have disagreed with me!”

His joke seemed to have hit the mark, as he noticed the anxiety melt from her face, replaced by a small smile.

Duncan decided to get back to the task at hand. His position allowed him a perfect line of sight with the exam sheet yet still kept him hidden as well. Rather than ask Callie if she was ready and risking another cataclysmic response, he read the first question and told her the correct answer. She marked it on the scantron.

From there they were off. He had always been a fast reader, so his answers came almost too quickly for her to write down. It didn’t take long for them to get through the first 35 questions, putting them a third of the way through the exam in a matter of minutes with no incident.

But then there was an incident.

Maybe it was the perfume. Or perhaps it was nerves over the thought of getting caught. It might even have been as simple as a random itch in her nose. But whatever the cause, Callie let loose a sneeze, a nominal act for her but a nearly cataclysmic one for the miniature cheater on her shoulder.

As her body thrust forward with the sneeze, there was no holding on for Duncan. His grip on her hair was ripped away by the force of the sternutation. However, he was able to swing slightly inward before the soft hairs slipped through his fingers, altering his trajectory and most likely saving his life.

Smack!

His fall was a short one, his body colliding hard with the tender flesh of Callie’s right breast with an impact that rang in his ears but was likely barely audible to her. He tumbled forward as his momentum carried him close to the bow he had admired just a little more than an hour before, stopping just short of where her bare skin met the fabric of her top.

“Shit!” Callie shouted.

She covered her mouth as soon as she said it, realizing her mistake right away. Duncan knew it was a heat of the moment slip up, but more attention on them was the last thing that either of them wanted. He had to get out of sight as soon as possible.

Acting on his first thought, he pushed himself forward as he returned to his feet, getting a sprinter’s start toward Callie. The largest opening in her cleavage was at the base, although even that would be somewhat of a squeeze by the look of it.

If Duncan had the time, he might have enjoyed the way each of his steps sunk into the spongy skin along his path. He might have complained about how awkward it was to run on that same wobbly surface, clumsily stumbling to keep his feet under him with each unwieldy stride. He might have even thought to look up and reassure his roommate that he was fine and that everything was going to be okay.

But he didn’t have the time. Instead, he had time to do only one thing as he neared his destination: dive!

And dive he did, his folded hands leading the way as he plunged into the base of Callie’s cleavage. His upper half slipped into the narrow opening, with moisture smelling of sweat and jasmine dampening his shirt, arms, and face.

Damn, she sprayed some of that stuff in here, too? Duncan wondered, a random thought passing through his mind despite the urgency of the moment.

His legs still left exposed to the outside world, he ignored his initial instinct to kick them wildly in the air. Instead bent them so that each of his knees and thighs were pressed into the giving flesh of the breast on either side of him.

Duncan then fanned his arms out and to his sides, his fingers grabbing malleable handfuls of bountiful titflesh as his arms passed by, pulling himself ever downward into the dark abyss. At the same time, he kicked like a frog as the traction from his upper legs helped push him ahead.

With some effort, he fought against the sticky, all-encompassing skin around him as his limbs worked their way into position to repeat the process.

No breaststroke puns, no breaststroke puns, no breaststroke puns, he chided himself as he “swam” deeper and deeper.

By the third stroke, Duncan had gone from dampened to drenched. He didn’t mind, however, as this greatly reduced the resistance posed by the tight squeeze of Callie’s breasts. Another stroke and he realized that he was entirely stashed away in her bosom plenty with room to spare.

He took a minute to slow down and get a feel for his surroundings. He had never simultaneously been so uncomfortable and so at peace. The air was breathable but stale, and personal space was not a thing as metric tons of boob pressed him from all sides, wrapping him in a warm, invasive hug that was just strong enough to make moving difficult.

At the same time, that intrusive flesh surrounding Duncan felt so good against his wet skin, like he was completely enveloped in a blanket of living satin. Then there was Callie’s heartbeat, by far louder than any base drum he had ever heard. It had actually scared him for a second, but once his nerves settled after he realized what the heavy pounding was, he found it to be incredibly soothing.

Of course, there was the fact that he was still upside down.

Duncan decided to correct that before he got lost in the more welcoming aspects of the world within Callie’s cleavage. He briefly curled inward before pushing out with his legs and pulling up with his arms, flipping himself in a way that reminded him of an Olympic swimmer performing a flip turn when reaching one end of the pool.

His slick skin made the maneuver a smooth one, and he continued his momentum as he worked his way back toward the “surface.” Going up proved to be harder than working his way down had been, but he managed by changing his approach.

Duncan pushed up and out with his arms, giving his upper body a little breathing room as he worked. His lower half followed one foot at a time, his legs feeling as though they were stuck in solidified quicksand with each step.

Just as he started to make out the light signaling his exit from the narrow gorge between Callie’s tits, he could just make out a voice. A man’s voice. So he decided to stop and wait for quiet before poking his head out of his hiding place.

********

What’s goin’ on in there?! Callie thought as she gave her cleavage a quick glance.

She knew that her attention was needed elsewhere, but all the squirming between her boobs was hard to ignore. And if she was being honest with herself, she kinda didn’t want to ignore it. Whatever Duncan was doing in there, it felt nice, the gentle tickle of his movements sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

Then there’s that soothing heat coming off his little body, like a heatable plushie straight from the microwave trying to cuddle with her heart!

But Callie needed to focus. Her outburst had drawn the interest of several of those in the lecture hall at the worst possible time. However, it seemed as though she had a few things going her way.

Sitting somewhat isolated from her fellow students had turned out to be a good choice. The closest one to her was the guy who had handed her the exam from the row below her, so even he didn’t have a clear view of her upper chest from his lower position.

Also, Callie’s immodest fashion choices apparently made some students too nervous to look at her. The way they quickly turned their heads away after initially looking to see what set her off made her blush, but she also was thankful that they hadn’t studied her long enough to notice the tiny man that had been running across her chest.

And what an interesting place that tiny man found to hide in! She thought that maybe she should feel angry or embarrassed about him slipping into her tits, but those weren’t the emotions she was experiencing at all. Not only was she responsible for the fact that he had to hide in the first place, but she was also kinda enjoying him being in there.

As that realization made her cheeks grow even redder, Callie found herself wondering if Duncan felt the same.

“Ms. Voss!” Professor Stillwell’s sneering voice echoed through the room. “Would you care to explain the reason for your outburst?”

Callie quickly located the professor. He was still near the bottom of the lecture hall, slowly ascending the stairs toward her. Hearing his voice had broken her reverie, but actually seeing him for the first time since entering the lecture hall brought back that deep pit in the depths of her stomach, with only dread to fill it once more.

I’m so fuckin’ stupid! she thought as she looked down at her clothing. Why did I think this was a good idea? Why can’t I do anything right?!

Two steps later, Callie’s fight or flight instincts kicked in. She hastily slid back the temporary desk and rose to her feet, the backs of her bare thighs pressing into the edge of the seat as she instinctively attempted to backpedal despite the lack of room.

“S-s-sorry!” she said louder than necessary.

Callie was trying to ready herself for Professor Stillwell’s lascivious stare. She was bracing herself for the snide innuendo that was sure to come out of his disgusting mouth. She was even girding herself for him to verbally dress her down in front of the class, as he always seemed to enjoy doing whenever a student gave him the opportunity.

But what she wasn’t prepared for was his slack-jawed silence.

The professor had stopped his climb two steps below her, a stupefied look written all over his face. It looked as though he had opened his mouth to speak, but the words couldn’t force themselves from his throat as he choked on the shock of seeing her so boldly taunting him.

Callie wasn’t sure how to react. She had never seen her perverted, predatory pursuer like this before. She had to admit, it felt good to see him at a loss, but the concern that he would soon simply retake the upper hand with his lingering eyes and creepy veiled comments began to overwhelm her.

Then she remembered that spot of warmth so close to her heart. Duncan had stopped wiggling around by this point, having worked his way shy of reemerging from her cleavage. While she didn’t know if he could hear what was happening, just knowing that he was there, supporting her, was enough to bring her newfound confidence to new heights.

And looking down on the professor from two steps above didn’t hurt, either. Callie was significantly taller than the man when standing beside him, but he looked positively tiny from her elevated position. If he were looking straight ahead, his line of sight would be mid-thigh.

But he wasn’t looking ahead. He was straining his neck to look up as he struggled to make eye contact with her.

Still, Professor Stillwell wasn’t one to relinquish control of a situation easily. He quickly composed himself, trading his surprised expression for one of anger.

However, just as he was about to resume his tirade, Callie’s own angry countenance matched his as she put her hands on her hips and cut him off with his mouth once again hanging open.

“What? I said I was sorry,” she said with venom as she looked down on the man who was significantly shorter than her even without the added height the stairs provided her. “Is that not good enough? Do you need to yell at me in front of the class to feel important? What is this, like, middle school?!”
As Callie stared down at the source of all anxiety and torment she had gone through in the last couple months, she saw something different in Stillwell’s normally creepy glare, something it took her a moment to recognize: fear.

“O-of course not,” he stuttered as he nearly tripped, backing down a step. “I just … I … Carry on!”

Stillwell turned around and stumbled down the stairs in a rush, returning to the built-in desk at the semi-circular hall, where he had watched her while giving so many lectures. Only now, he wasn’t looking at her, instead staring a hole through the desk as he waited for his students to be finished with the exam.

Holy shit! Callie thought. I can’t believe that worked. That I did that.

She was quick to pick up her test papers and pencil from the floor and sit back in her seat. Setting everything back on the slide-out desk, she felt Duncan resume working his way out of her cleavage. After a quick glance around to ensure that no one was watching her, she carefully used her right index and middle fingers to part her breasts.

Duncan’s left arm was the first thing to emerge from the recently widened ravine, setting itself down atop her right breast before being followed by his right. Callie felt the teensiest amount of pressure as those arms pushed down, accompanied by the much more distracting sensation of his body wiggling its way to freedom, fraction of an inch by fraction of an inch.

Removing her hand and letting her breasts gently come down on their tiny guest, she pressed her chin into her clavicle, just above the sternum, as she looked on him with growing concern. The little man had settled in, his body now facing her and exposed up to his lower chest.

The immediate fear of him being discovered and the excitement at finally standing up for herself starting to die down, Callie was starting to worry that he may have hurt himself during his fall. A fall that her carelessness had caused. What if he broke something? What if there’s internal bleeding? What about a concussion? How would they give him medical attention if he needs it?

Duncan seemed to be reading her mind—or the building worry showing all over her face more likely—surprising her with a comforting smile and a thumbs up, letting her know he was just fine. She smiled back, thankful that he had landed on the softest, most pliable part of her body.

That relief was quick to give way to embarrassment, as she blushed at the realization that he was now quite familiar with just how soft and pliable that particular body part was.

Callie lifted her right arm with the intention of fishing Duncan out of her cleavage, unsure whether to put him back on her shoulder or find a safer place to stash him and go it alone for the rest of the exam. He wouldn’t like it, but she really didn’t want to put him at risk again, and she was leaning toward the latter.

However, that decision was put on hold as her hand froze once it was level with the top of her chest. Pulling her little secret out now would run the risk of anyone so much as shooting a glance her way seeing him. Checking around the room, she couldn’t see anyone looking her way, but it would only take a split second for that to change.

Callie stared down at Duncan as he watched her hand hover to his side. His face suddenly lit up as he turned back to her face. He held out a single finger, signaling her to give him a minute.

That’s when he began to twist his body around.

Duncan’s abs, hips and legs gliding over the skin between Callie’s boobs filled her with a unique sense of pleasure. Sure she had been feeling his every move he made since he dove in, but this … this was different. There was just something about seeing him as she felt his little movements that made her feel oddly giddy.

Soon the width of his body went with the line separating her breasts, only for his hips to push against them again, fighting for space as the mounds of inviting flesh reluctantly gave. Once he had done a full 180, facing directly in front of her, he started making his way forward.

Callie could feel Duncan’s legs treading beneath the surface, his puny hands wrinkled the slightest portions of her skin as he pulled himself straight ahead with as much strength as he could muster. Those little legs felt like the world’s softest, shortest fingers exploring one of her most forbidden areas, prodding wildly as he churned them with everything he had.

She couldn’t help but grin smugly at the scene below her. It wasn’t that she enjoyed watching him struggle, but she loved the idea that this one part of her body was giving him such a hard time. He looked exhausted, and he was even halfway across the length of her cleavage.

Callie wasn’t even trying, and her tits were too much for him to handle.

It wasn’t until Duncan had nearly completed his journey that it occurred to her that she could have helped him. She was so busy enjoying his efforts that she hadn’t thought of parting her breasts again or even nudging him along with a finger, either of which would have made things so much easier for him.

While Callie felt guilty about this, she couldn’t say that she regretted leaving him to his struggles. At least, not if she was being honest with herself.

After reaching the outer edge of her cleavage, Duncan again shifted his body, moving to face her left breast as his hips lined up with the tight opening hugging his front and back. He was close enough that he could see over the bow holding her top together, which left her a little worried that he might take a more severe plunge than before, but she decided to trust his judgment.

He peeked down at the exam sheet and looked back up at Callie. Lifting his hands just a bit overhead, he raised three fingers, then six.

What? Callie asked herself before it quickly dawned on her. Oh, he means question 36! Okay.

She gave him a nod to show that she understood, which he returned. His left hand remained in the air, its fingers and thumb forming a letter c, as his right hand smacked her the top of her left boob three times, barely noticeable ripples traveling across the immediate area before dying off as they traveled farther along her skin.

The tiny blows were less painful than even the smallest bug bite Callie could remember, yet they electrified her whole body at the same time. She shivered reflexively at the intensity of her body’s reaction to the little taps. It never ceased to amaze her just how much his touch could affect her.

Three more hits from below brought her attention back to the man between her boobs, who stared up at her with a frustrated look on his face. He aggressively motioned his left hand, still shaped like a c, in her direction as his right index finger pointed down at the exam.

This time, Callie pushed aside the distracting feelings inside her as best she could and focused on what Duncan was telling her. It clicked right away, and she picked up her pencil and pointed it at the answer c for question 37 of the exam, looking to him for confirmation. He answered with a smirk and sarcastic slow clap, making sure to not actually connect on the claps and draw attention to himself.

She shimmied her shoulders, just barely but enough to jiggle her breasts a little. It was hard for her to not giggle as he stopped his clapping to grip the side of her boob to deal with the resulting “earthquake.” Once the shaking subsided, she removed her free hand from under her chest—and Duncan—and lightly booped him on the nose.

He responded with a chuckle and a middle finger, which almost caused Callie to snort.

From there, they resumed the exam, her catching on to Duncan’s new system in almost no time at all. He smacked her breast twice on the next question, and she marked b as the answer after checking with him to ensure she understood.

Soon the two of them didn’t need to look at each other at all, as Callie was marking down answers almost as soon as he finished striking her titflesh each time. They sped through the next 50 or so questions like this. With only a handful of questions left, she noticed a few students getting up to turn in their exams.

She decided that Duncan had helped enough and that potentially getting the last few questions wrong was preferable to him being discovered.

“Got it from here,” she whispered down to him. “Thanks again!”

Before Duncan could protest, Callie’s right index finger was already on him. Touching down on his right shoulder and bicep, it pushed him all the way back through her cleavage before submerging him into what she hoped was a welcoming abyss of femininity.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself from both the emotional and physical enjoyment stuffing him in there had given her, she buckled down and turned her focus back to her exam.

********

 Duncan was still trying to figure out which way was up.

Not that he was in a rush to escape his organic prison. Actually, if he was being honest, he was starting to like it in here, despite the shortcomings he had noted when he first invited himself in. Fresh air and room to move freely were a fine trade-off for the security and care he felt being nuzzled between Callie’s breasts.

No, Duncan was merely trying to reorient himself after Callie so hastily shoved him in there. He wanted to be upset at her treatment of him. He really did. He couldn’t do it, though. He knew she wouldn’t have done something like that without good reason, most likely because someone was about to walk by as he was lost in the fun he was having answering those simple test questions.

Besides, there was something about the fact that she could overpower him so easily with a single finger that he found to be incredibly hot. Not that he was thinking of Callie that way or anything. No sir.

Just as Duncan started pulling himself toward the direction he decided was up, everything around him started shaking violently. He felt himself starting to slide downward as the quakes intensified every few seconds.

Well, at least it looks like I guessed right on where up is, he mused as his feet led the way downward.

As soon as the quaking had begun, it was over. Duncan heard a man’s voice, the same one from before, mumble something inaudible through the twin mountains of flesh surrounding him, and suddenly he knew what had happened.

Callie had finished her exam and gone down the stairs to turn it in. Without a bra to secure her breasts in place, he was more at the mercy of gravity than they were, he realized. And if the way down the steps was that rough, then the way back up was likely to be even more severe.

The only solace Duncan took in his situation was that the voice he heard, Stillwell’s he was pretty sure, sounded defeated. Maybe Callie’s crazy idea had actually worked. While he couldn’t make out the words then, their earlier exchange sounded and felt pretty serious, with her harsh words rumbling through her chest, another experience Duncan had found surprisingly enjoyable.

He felt her on the move again, the rumbling of her first few steps rattling him but not as much as her going down the stairs had. Spreading his limbs out to slow his descent, he slowly tried to climb higher, his forearms and shins rubbing against her skin as they attempted to pull him up despite the quivering environment.

The extra force that came with Callie fighting against gravity did indeed make the ride back up worse. But Duncan was prepared this time, and he battled to hold his position, mostly being successful in doing so. He ended up sinking just a little lower than he had been before, but given how rough the ride had been, he decided to call it a victory.

Now, as her steps were on more even ground, he was able to maintain his place in her tits, even if it was tiring to do so. He only hoped that she would get him out soon. As much as he liked it in here, trying to keep himself from falling from a pair of braless boobies was more trouble than it was worth.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, he thought to himself, but I kind of miss Callie’s purse.

********

Callie made her way out of the lecture hall, feeling Duncan wriggling around in her boobs. Before setting out for the bathroom, an odd thought stopped her in her tracks.

Would Duncan let me carry him around like this again? she wondered. Would it be weird if I asked him?

Callie couldn’t deny that she liked having him in there. A lot. If she was sure he felt the same way, she would have simply walked home with him snuggling between her breasts. But communication was limited during the exam, and she wasn’t sure about his experience, so she took a step toward the bathroom to retrieve him.

“Hey Cal!” a voice yelled over the chatter of the other students in the hallway.

Callie turned around and spotted her friend Brooklyn approaching her through the crowd. They would often see each other at this time after their respective classes in the building but never had time to hang out then, as Brooklyn had another class almost immediately afterward.

“You just get done with your exam?” Brooklyn asked Callie as the pretty brunette stepped in front of the taller blonde.

Callie nodded nervously, eager to find an excuse to get out of the conversation and fish Duncan out.

“Yup,” she answered. “I, uh, was just about to head to bathroom before headin’ out, so …”

Brooklyn straightened out her knee-length blue skirt before looking back up at Callie.

“Hold it,” Brooklyn said. “It’s a short walk back to your place. Keep me company on the way to my next class.”

Callie shook her head.

“Nah, I really gotta g—”

Brooklyn grabbed her arm and started dragging her away.

“Walk with me,” she whined.

Callie was three steps in the direction opposite the bathroom before she relented. Hoping that Duncan would be okay until Brooklyn had to break off for her class, she kept pace with her friend as they began to chat about their circle of friends and swap stories about their respective shifts at their shared workplace.

Throughout their walk, Callie could feel Duncan scrambling around in there. She felt bad and a little concerned, but that satisfied feeling of her body dominating her minuscule roommate without any effort reared its seductive head as well. The thought alone excited her, and actually feeling him fight against the natural movements of her body left her with some seriously mixed feelings.

“Okay, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but what’s with the outfit?” Brooklyn asked, mercifully pulling Callie away from a complex set of emotions.

Callie was initially thankful for the distraction of her friend’s question but soon became mortified when she realized what she had been asked. She hadn’t shared her issues with professor Stillwell with Brooklyn or any of her other friends.  And even if she had, would Brooklyn even understand what she was trying to do.

“I was just making a point,” she mumbled.

Callie could already feel the embarrassment as Brook’s eyes zeroed-in on her breasts.

“I’d say you made two,” Brooklyn countered.

 Looking down, Callie realized that her feelings about Duncan fighting against her tits had made her nipples hard, something that was plainly visible through the material of her top. Without a thought, she slammed her right forearm against her breasts in an effort to hide her shame.

“Hey, it’s no big deal,” Brooklyn tried to comfort her. “I was just giving you a hard time. But you are gonna have to tell me about whoever it is that’s got you so excited sometime. You’re lucky my class is the other way, otherwise I’d get it out of you now!”

With that, Brooklyn waved goodbye as she turned down the adjacent sidewalk heading deeper into campus. Callie said her goodbye and breathed a sigh of relief that she had gotten out of that embarrassing situation. Now all she had to do was find a bathroom or something and get Duncan out of there.

She dropped her right arm from her chest and took a step. It wasn’t until halfway through her next one that she realized that Duncan had fallen out from under her boobs!

 ********

Duncan had started getting used to the rhythm of Callie’s gait when he had been sandwiched hard between his two round, succulent keepers. Once the added pressure was released, he found himself falling through her cleavage entirely. He had managed to briefly grab one end of her top’s bow at the very tip, but the impact of her next step shook his grip loose with ease.

He fell downward and slightly toward Callie’s left, his own sense of left and right in a constant state of flux as he tumbled through the air in free fall. Fortunately, Callie’s left thigh was moving forward in a second step, moving just in time to at least temporarily break his fall, her skin there almost as soft as that of her breasts.

However, Duncan found himself rolling down the steeply angled upper leg, making his date with the hard concrete of the sidewalk still tens of his feet below all but inevitable. Looking around for something, anything that might help him in this situation, he noticed the grass to Callie’s left seemed really close.

Maybe she’s close enough, maybe she’s not, he thought quickly. Either way, it’s better than just going straight and splatting on the sidewalk for sure.

Just before arriving at Callie’s knee, Duncan shoved off against her leg, changing direction and rolling off the side of her leg rather than straight down from her knee. He was facing the sky as he fell, unsure of what kind of surface was awaiting him below.

He was too distracted by the panic on Callie’s face to look over his shoulder and learn his fate early. She was clearly now aware that he wasn’t where she put him. She hadn’t spotted him yet, and he doubted that yelling would be enough to get her attention with all the noise being made by college students traversing the busy sidewalk.

Will she blame herself if I don’t make it? he asked himself. I sure hope not.

Duncan’s fall was partially broken by several blades of grass, which softened his collision with the ground just enough to keep him from serious injury. Not pain, though. He still felt plenty of that, from his right shoulder that met the ground first to his left ankle that seemed to roll itself at some point during his unplanned landing.

He stood up and brushed himself off as he looked back up at his giant roomie, who was frantically searching the sidewalk and screaming at people to watch their step, earning her more than a few odd stares. All he had to do was get close to her body and step in front of her.

Then we can head home, he told himself. Maybe have a good laugh abo—

“Um, excuse you,” a posh voice echoed from above.

Before Duncan could get a good look at the person attached to that voice, a foot housed in a bright yellow flip flop crashed down in front of him, flattening the grass that had just saved his life and coming within inches of doing the same to him.

He saw the girl’s other foot make its way around Callie, finding himself in its shadow for a brief moment before it landed somewhere far behind him. This impatient girl was stepping around Callie, ignoring her pleas in the most uncaring way possible. People like her are exactly why he always steered well clear of sidewalks.

Duncan tried to move out of the way of the girl’s next step, but as the foot in front of him ascended into the heavens, he was clipped by the side of its obnoxious footwear. The collision catapulted him just over the grass for several of his feet and further away from his would-be savior.

He rolled through the grass once again, this time in even more pain. He was facing Callie as she continued to make a scene looking for him. He wanted to get up and make his way to her, but between his time in his gym earlier, his unexpected workout with Callie’s boobs, and the combined pain from falling and being kicked across the yard, he just didn’t have the energy to move anymore.

As his vision started to fade, Duncan couldn’t help but feel as though he had let her down. Watching her desperately search for him, he knew she would think this was her fault. This would probably haunt her for a while, too.

Before he could think too much about that, the ground began to rumble. He was able to roll over just enough to see a pair of white sneakers walking through the grass and heading straight for him. He felt like the odds of him getting stepped on here were pretty good.

This is probably it, he told himself. Look on the bright side, you made it a lot longer than you thought you were going to.

But he didn’t get stepped on. In fact, those shoes stopped right in front of him. As his vision started to black, he saw the pair of jeans feeding out of them start to bend. And as unconsciousness finally took him, he was vaguely aware of fingers wrapping around his tiny body.

Chapter End Notes:

Ugh, a cliffhanger. I hate those! Who's writing this shit, anyway? I think we should all write complimentary reviews to the writer in protest. Yeah! He clearly wants us to complain, so that should be the last thing we do!


Duncan vs. the Shy Slaver

Word Count: 10942
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025

Callie felt numb as she sat, slightly hunched, at the foot of her bed.

She was staring straight ahead, having long since given up trying to keep the multitude of unpleasant thoughts out of her head. Her brain simply wouldn’t stop offering new possibilities for how her roommate may have met his demise.

Did a bird get him? Maybe he got stepped on and squished so flat that they’ll never find his remains. What if he got into a fight with another squirrel? God, she had giggled when he told her that story during their first conversation. He had told her how he almost died, and all she did was laugh in his face! The fuck was wrong with her?!

So Callie just looked straight ahead, puffy red eyes completely dried after hours of desperate tears. Right in front of her was what had once been her work desk, a place for studying and mulling over homework. However, shortly after Duncan had agreed to live with her, she had donated a good portion of its surface to him.

To the shoebox that wouldn’t let her look away.

“Callie,” Monica called as she stepped into the room. “You seemed to have calmed yourself a bit. Are you feeling any better?”

Callie’s eyes remained locked on Duncan’s home, making no movement to acknowledge her friend’s presence.

“I killed him,” she answered.

 Monica walked toward Callie, crossing her line of sight before sitting down next to her. The co-ed was vaguely aware of her hero putting an arm around her and pulling her close.

“No, you didn’t,” Monica said. “Duncan survived for months on his own. It’s only been a matter of hours. It’s far too soon to give up hope.”

Callie nodded slightly but still couldn’t bring herself to look at the business woman.

“Besides, given how adamant Duncan was about having today off, I somehow doubt this whole thing was your idea,” Monica continued, pulling at the bottom of her skirt against the bed spread as it rode up her thigh. “He caught up on all the things I couldn’t keep up with during his time away in just three weeks. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him no. But maybe if I had he wou—”

For the first time since setting foot in her room, Callie turned away from the shoebox.

“No, he was only doin’ it for me,” she said as she looked Monica in the eye. “It’s not your fault.”

A solemn smile crossed Monica’s face.

“It’s not yours, either,” she said softly.

Those words brought with them a whole new swell of emotion as they hit Callie. She wrapped her arms around Monica’s neck in a tight embrace, burying her face in the shoulder of the executive’s suit jacket as her tear ducts found new moisture from sources that had long since run dry.

As Callie sobbed, she felt her hug being returned, feeling Monica gently rub her back. After the tears died down, the two of them stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence in the comfort of each other’s arms. When Callie finally pulled away, she noticed that Monica was looking straight ahead.

Right at the shoebox.

“Is that where he’s staying?” Monica asked.

Callie followed suit as Monica stood up and began to walk toward the desk.

“Yeah,” Callie said. “Like, I offered to buy him a dollhouse or even try to build him a little house, but this is where he stayed during his first night out in the open, and that’s where he wanted to stay.”

Monica shot Callie an incredulous look.

“Build him a house?” Monica asked.

Callie stared down at the roof of the house as she answered.

“Yup,” she said. “Daddy’s been teachin’ me about woodworking since I was a little girl. I’d like to think I’m pretty good with a saw and a power rotary.”

Monica nodded in response, looking down at the house as her hands reached out for its two shorter sides.

“May I?” she asked as her fingers made contact with the lid.

After giving Monica permission to look inside, Callie watched as her friend lifted the roof from Duncan’s house and peered inside. Despite everything that had happened, Callie couldn’t help but feel a small amount of pride as she saw the shock on Monica’s face.

********

The first thing Duncan noticed when he regained consciousness was how sore his whole body felt.

He let out a grunt as he sat up, his hands sinking into the fluffy ground beneath him. Wait, fluffy ground?

 Looking straight ahead, Duncan saw a giant span of red and orange bedspread ahead of him as he faced the foot of the bed. He was sitting in the middle of a dull yellow, almost white circle that was cut off at the nearest corner of the bed, to his left. He stood up, his muscles still aching a bit, and walked toward the closest pillow for a wider look.

This almost looks like … his thoughts trailed off as he climbed the pillow and looked down at the circle. I think it is! It’s supposed to be the sun. Are these themed fucking bedsheets?

Further down the bedding, the odd stretch of red and orange that almost reminded Duncan of a desert at sunset, and he could now see black lining the bottom with some faded wording he couldn’t read from his current position. He could also make out a shadowed picture of a man holding a gun near his head in right hand as he pointed it upward.

Duncan recognized the man, as well as what he now recognized as the red outline of a spaceship against the orange backdrop representing the sky: Malcolm Reynolds and his ship, Serenity.

Is this a fucking Firefly bedspread?! Duncan asked himself. Was the show even around long enough for this kind of marketing?

Paying more attention to the rest of the room, he recognized the tight dark green carpet and white walls surrounding him. This was one of the dorms on campus, although he couldn’t remember the name offhand. Decorating the walls were posters for the show Fringe, various Star Wars movies, and other sci-fi-looking scenes that he didn’t recognize.

 Across from the foot of the bed was a narrow dresser doubling as a tv stand, with an old box television, complete with a dvd player stacked on top, sitting atop it. A mini fridge was placed beside it, while a small desk was shoved into the nearest corner, stacked with disorganized papers and textbooks.

Before Duncan could read any of the book titles printed along their spines, the sound of a key rattling in a lock echoed through the room before the only door, located ahead and to his left, slowly crept open.

A young woman stuck her head through the cracked door, her straight black hair stopping just below her chin. The lens of her glasses reflected the bright LED lighting shining down from above, making it impossible for him to see her eyes, something that left him a bit unsettled.

“Um, h-hello?” the woman called out meekly. “Are you up yet?”

She stepped into the room and closed the door, locking it behind her. Her face immediately pointed toward the bed in an obvious search for Duncan. His first thought was to dive behind the pillow under his feet but quickly realized this wouldn’t do much good.

She already knows I’m on the bed, he thought. Behind the pillows is the first place she’ll look anyway.

So Duncan stood on the pillow and waited to be discovered, which he was in short order.

“There you are,” the woman said. “Uh, hey there.”

She began to walk toward him, the vibrations of her footsteps shaking him up a bit even after being partially absorbed by the bed. It reminded him of how much he took the care Callie put into softening her own gait for granted.

As she approached, Duncan set aside that uneasy feeling and inspected her a little more closely. She looked to be about Callie’s age, probably a little older than the average student staying at the dorms. He didn’t consider her fat, but she did carry some extra weight, making the black shirt she was wearing look just a tad tight on her.

She was also wearing a pair of jeans and white sneakers.

As the girl’s final steps placed her right beside Duncan’s pillow, he crouched down slightly to keep his balance. That proved futile as she bent her own knees before letting her pleasantly round butt crash to the ground, knocking him off the front end of the pillow in a violent earthquake.

“Oh jeez, sorry,” she said. “Are you alright?”

The girl leaned forward to check on Duncan, her breasts scraping gently against the bedding. In his apprehension about her intentions, he hadn’t paid attention to her chest at first, but as he laid there on the bedspread with it rapidly approaching, it demanded his notice.

She was quite well endowed, with breasts maybe even larger than Callie’s. Although her shirt wasn’t low-cut by any means, she was still showing some cleavage, as her tits stretched the fabric to its limits, evidenced by just how widely the word Dune stretched across her upper chest.

The breasts stopped about a few of Duncan’s feet in front of him. Her face hovered directly above him, looking down on him as the tips of her dark tresses dangled just above his head on either side. Looking straight up, he caught a glimpse of her eyes for the first time, warm green irises staring down at him through plastic lenses.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Duncan replied.

The girl nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment, her hair dancing in the air at the movement. She didn’t move besides that, however, continuing to look at him from that same position. He didn’t get the impression that she was trying to creep him out, but it soon became obvious to him that she didn’t know how to proceed.

It looked as though Duncan would have to take the lead.

“So, I’m Duncan,” he said, motioning to himself and then to her. “And you are …”

It was quiet for several seconds, the girl’s blank expression only interrupted by the occasional blink.

“Oh, right. This is where I say my name,” she finally caught on. “Sorry about that. My name is Ada.”

 Duncan waited for a moment to see what else she had to say, but there was nothing, just more dead air. He exhaled a frustrated sigh.

“So I guess I have you to thank for saving me?” he asked.

Ada’s face lit up.

“Yes! That’s me. I did that!” she said excitedly.

Duncan winced as her voice rang loudly in his ears. Ada noticed this, cringing herself.

“Um, sorry about that,” she whispered. “I’ll try to be better about talking softer.”

Ada went silent once again, and Duncan thought he might need to ask yet another question to get her talking again. Her lack of social skills were beginning to grate on his nerves. However, before he needed to reignite the conversation, she spoke up.

“But like you said, I picked you up and brought you here,” she said. “I saw you get kicked. I wasn’t sure what you were at first, so I went over to have a look. By the time I got over there, you were already passed out, which was probably good, because I do not do people very well, especially new ones.”

Duncan could see her point, but he decided to try and be encouraging. Maybe if she thought she was doing well, she might start speaking on her own more.

“You don’t seem to be doing so bad right now,” he said.

Ada finally backed off, her chest and face lifting away as she returned to her normal sitting position.

“Well, yeah, but that’s just because you’re so small,” she said, her eyes going wide as soon as the words left her mouth. “That was probably rude to say. I didn’t mean anything bad by it, though, I swear.”

Duncan assured her that it was fine, and it turned out that was the icebreaker that Ada needed. After having to pry every word from her mouth up until that point, he suddenly found himself bombarded with questions.

She was intrigued to learn that he had shrunk rather than having always been his current size, and many of her inquiries centered around the process of how he shrank. Despite him not being able to provide much information, she came up with several theories, throwing out scientific jargon he couldn’t hope to comprehend.

Ada also sprinkled some details about herself in with her line of questioning, explaining her interest in his condition. She explained that she was a senior at the university majoring in theoretical physics and minoring in three scientific fields Duncan had never heard of before. She was on pace to graduate summa cum laude in what he knew to be a nationally respected college of science.

Of course, she asked him personal questions as well, but he was much more hesitant to reveal any of those details to her. She seemed nice enough, but so had Natasha. It wasn’t until after he recovered from his fever and he told her some of his story that Natasha had turned on him, enjoying herself as she tormented him in so many ways.

So Duncan played dumb, mostly. He “didn’t remember” how he had gotten where Ada had found him, nor did he volunteer the knowledge that he had interacted with other giants already. He was unsure how she might react knowing that others knew about him and may be looking for him.

He might have considered telling her about Callie if he had her phone number memorized, but he always used Siri to call her without dialing.

Reaching out to Monica via her email had also occurred to Duncan, but then he remembered that she was obsessed with doing anything important in person and had her email set to send any messages from non-work-related email addresses into her spam folder, which she never checks and always clears at the end of the day. Which is why he never set up an official work email himself. Fuck.

He had even debated simply asking Ada to take him back to the apartment, as he knew the area well enough to get there. However, he still didn’t know her that well, and he had always been slow to trust people.

It was bad enough that a relative stranger knew about his vulnerable state, but for that same person to know where he lived, to be only a busted window or broken-down door away from retaking him at any time? Duncan just couldn’t make peace with that.

Instead, he came up with another strategy. He would ask Ada to take him back to the area she found him. If he was lucky, Callie might still be looking for him, and Ada would feel pressured to turn him over whether she wanted to or not. And if Callie wasn’t there, Ada honoring his request might just be enough to earn his trust and asking her to take him home might be on the table.

 Home. Duncan smiled as he realized that, for the first time that he could remember, he had a place he really considered to be his home—and someone there waiting for him.

“… and that’s why, according to the square-cube law, you shouldn’t even …” Ada stopped her exuberant explanation and leaned down toward Duncan. “Is everything okay, Duncan? You have a funny look on your face.”

The girl’s face stopped just inches in front of him, almost causing him to trip over his own feet as he took an instinctive step back. Her head moved slightly ahead to follow him. He could almost touch the tip of her nose if he reached out.

I guess she failed personal space 101, he thought.

A gust of Ada’s warm breath, carrying with it the overwhelming scent of Cool Ranch Doritos and Mountain Dew, surrounded Duncan, almost making him gag as it ruffled his clothes slightly. He was able to endure it, however, and she didn’t seem to notice at all.

“Everything’s fine,” he answered. “I was just thinking about how frustrating it is not remembering anything. But then I had an idea. Maybe we cou—”

Duncan talked fast, trying and failing to get his mouth closed before another breath was sent his way. The gross stench entered his mouth in addition to stinging his nostrils, leaving him in a coughing fit as his body attempted in vain to send back the disgusting vapor.

 He felt a few strong strikes on his back, almost knocking him flat on his face. Through watery eyes he looked back and saw Ada’s right index finger coming in for another blow, the rest of her hand taking up much of his vision on his left side.

Duncan was barely able to brace himself for the tap as it made contact, this time holding his ground. He knew she was trying to be gentle, but it was clear that she wasn’t used to handling him like this.

After he was able to settle and Ada was through checking to see if he was okay and apologizing profusely once he explained what happened, he told her his idea to her. He asked her to take him back to where she found him and gave his excuse for why he wanted to go there.

“So you want to leave?” she asked, back to sitting up straight.

Duncan detected a hint of sadness in her voice, something that made him nervous.

“Well yeah,” he replied. “I would like to get back to … whatever it is I’m missing out on, and you’ve got your studies. Summa cum laude is a big deal, and I wouldn’t want to be a distraction for you.”

Ada shook her head with enough force that the dagger-like ends of her hairs clashed against her lenses.

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said. “Just look at what happened to you last time you were there, and I just screwed up with you, too. I don’t know if I trust myself enough with you in public.”

 Duncan didn’t like the direction the conversation was going. Ada’s words made sense, but she was much too adamant about not going along with his idea. She had a different reason for shooting it down, he was sure of it.

He had to get out of there.

“Okay, I guess I can understand that,” Duncan said, trying to ease his way into making his exit. “I still think it’s worth the risk, though, so if you don’t feel comfortable taking me, I think I’ll just head over there myself.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he started walking toward the side of the bed, planning to climb down the bedspread, walk across the room, and slip under the gap at the bottom of the door as soon as possible. However, he only made it two steps before Ada’s right hand came crashing down in front of him, standing on its side and leaving him face to face with her palm.

“Why do you want to leave so badly?” she asked in a dejected voice. “I … I thought we were having fun talking. Is it because of the Dorito-breath thing? Because that won’t happen again, I swear.”

 Duncan could feel the frustration and anxiety building up inside him, but he was doing his best to keep his cool.

“No, everything’s fine, and I know that was an accident,” he said. “Look, I appreciate you helping me out, but I really need to go.”

Duncan started to walk around Ada’s hand, electing to walk past her fingers to avoid crossing the rest of her body before reaching a suitable spot to climb down. This proved to be a mistake however, as those same fingers snapped shut, trapping him completely in her grip.

Her ring finger quickly shifted under his feet, pushing his body up until only his head and shoulders were sticking out of her fist.

“You can’t leave!” she yelled.

Ignoring the pain in his ears, Duncan let his anger overtake his fear.

“Oh, and why not?” he asked, the question laced with sarcasm. “This should be good.”

The question actually seemed to catch Ada off guard.

“Um, because, well …” she stumbled. “B-because I said so.”

Duncan scoffed at her answer.

“And why is that your choice?” he questioned back. “Just because you’re bigger than me?”

Duncan could see the frustration all over Ada’s face, but he didn’t care at this point.

“You know what, yeah!” she shouted. “Yeah, because I’m bigger than you.”

A derisive chuckle escaped Duncan’s lips.

“There it is,” he said. “I knew that nice girl routine was just an act. You were just playing around with your little slave this whole time, weren’t you?”

Ada gasped at what Duncan was suggesting.

“Slave?” she said. “I would neve—”

Ada cut herself off as Duncan tried to talk over her.

“Don’t,” he said. “Enough with the bullshit. You’re keeping me here against my will, and you expect me to do whatever you say. So stop trying to sugarcoat it and just admit that all you wanted from the start was a tiny little slave. The least you can do is not lie about it!”

The fingers around Duncan tightened slightly, not enough to hurt him but certainly enough to let him know that Ada wasn’t happy with him.

“That’s not … I mean, you’re putting …” she struggled to find the right words. “Gah! You know what, fine! You’re my little slave then! Come on!”

With Duncan in hand, Ada stood up and made her way toward the mini fridge.

********

 “Is that a toilet?!” Monica asked incredulously.

She was looking down at the open shoebox, marveling at its rooms and hallway, which were partitioned off by rectangular pieces of cardboard glued onto the box’s bottom. At one end of the box was an open-concept living/dining room combination, while a hallway stretching the box’s remaining length separated a large bedroom on the side closest to Monica and Callie from an equally spacious bathroom on the opposite side.

All of the walls were painted a relaxing slate gray, while the floor was left in its original condition. Doorways were carved with great precision into the hallway walls to allow access to each room. And a string of small Christmas lights were attached to the tops of walls lining every room of the house.

But Monica’s eyes had almost instantly zeroed in on the tiny toilet near the corner housed by the bathroom.

“Yup,” Callie answered with pride. “It’s still a little too big for him, but that just means he has to sit down when he takes a piss.”

Callie pointed to the small plastic container separating the toilet from the longer wall of the shoebox. Monica noted that it was small enough that Duncan could climb into it without issue, although it was still taller to him than a tub would be to her. She also noticed a thimble placed between the container and the toilet.

“That’s his bathtub,” Callie continued. “He also uses water from it to ‘flush’ when he’s done doin’ his business. I got a hole cut under it and something to catch his waste under the house.”

Monica’s eyes followed Callie’s hand as it reached under the elevated shoebox, her hand just fitting into the gap, and pulled out a small tray.

“He said he didn’t need a toilet, but I wanted to make him feel as normal as I could,” Callie explained. “I don’t change the pan until he’s out of the room. I don’t want him feelin’ like a pet.”

 Monica nodded wordlessly as she examined the rest of the bathroom. A doll vanity was placed on the opposite side of the bathroom, with a real mirror at a reasonable height for Duncan to use. On the vanity were a small sliver of razor blade and a tiny doll toothbrush with real bristles, small enough that she suspected that Duncan had cut them himself, attached over the fake ones.

The rest of the house was no less impressive, with a real-feeling bed, a dining room table nicer than Callie’s, a coffee table, and a couch all modified to Duncan’s size. A piece of thin carpet being used as an area rug in the living room under the couch and coffee table.

There was even a smart phone attached to the wall facing the couch, with a charging cord leading from the phone through a perfect-sized hole in the wall to a surge protector sitting on the desk.

“That’s his TV,” Callie said, as Monica assumed her traveling gaze was easy enough to follow. “The phone is always on, and he can use Siri to wake it up, open any streaming app, and pick what he wants to watch without usin’ his hands.”

 Monica was impressed, to say the least. In fact, she was so impressed by all of this that she almost missed the pictures.

Throughout the living room, dining room, bedroom, and hallway, photos were hanging from the walls. Some were 2x3s, standing slightly taller than Duncan himself, but others were hand-cut to appear as normal-sized pictures to him. Each of them was encased in a frame made from incredibly thin pieces of wood.

But it was what the photos captured that really caught Monica’s eye.

They were all of Callie and Duncan, each capturing the two of them assuming a unique pose. One was a selfie of Callie’s head and shoulders, showing off an innocent smile and giving the deuces hand sign with her free hand as Duncan hung perilously from a few strands of hair in front of her left shoulder.

Another was an overhead shot trailing down Callie’s long left arm. Duncan was pinched between her right index finger and thumb with faux panic on his face as she held him over her open mouth and winked at the phone’s camera.

A third appeared to be taken via a timer from the surface of Callie’s desk. She was sitting at the desk with an open textbook in front of her. But she wasn’t looking at the book. Instead, her eyes were focused on the little man standing just beyond it, the two of them sharing a laugh.

 Several more such photos littered the walls, and the smile on Monica’s lips seemed to grow wider and wider as she viewed each one. However, one glance Callie’s way revealed that the photos had a very different effect on the younger woman.

“I should be out there,” Callie said quietly. “I should out be tryin’ to find him right now.”

Monica put her left hand, the one right beside Callie, on the blonde’s shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to do that at the moment, you know that,” Monica said. “That’s why I escorted you back here. You … you were really struggling out there.”

Callie’s left hand reached across her body and to her shoulder as Monica felt it land on top of her own hand.

“I know,” she responded.

Callie lowered her head, seemingly searching for something else to say, but the look on her face told Monica that there were too many thoughts, too many emotions, running through the co-ed to come up with anything coherent.

“I know it’s hard,” Monica said. “It’s hard for me, too. But we just have to trust Alyssia to handle it alone for now.”

She placed the lid back on the shoebox before leading Callie out of the room.

“And we need to trust Duncan, as well,” Monica said as they walked down the hallway. “This isn’t his first time roughing it like this. But this time, he has people who are trying to help him. That alone should give him enough motivation to find a way through this.”

As the two of them sat on the living room couch, Monica was able to make eye contact with Callie as she finally raised her head.

“You’re right,” Callie said, almost convincingly. “I just need to have faith that he’ll be alright.”

********

 “… and that’s why season five is actually the superior season, no matter what any of those season three nutjobs will tell you,” Ada explained before she started to giggle. “Those jerks won’t be getting a white tulip from me, that’s for sure.”

Duncan was able to keep from groaning as he made his way across the bedspread, another green grape freshly chilled from the mini fridge in hand. As he approached the giant girl’s face head on, she went from staring at the ceiling to looking right at him, the sudden movement of her cheek slamming against the bedding shifting the ground beneath his feet, almost causing him to trip.

“I know you said you’ve never watched Fringe, but just know that that was a joke,” Ada said. “A really good one, too.”

Duncan didn’t offer a response, instead focusing on the task at hand. He had mostly been trying to ignore her, but even her quieter tone was too loud to shut out. So he did his best to suppress a scowl as he made it to her plump, naked lips.

Ada let out a soft “aah” as those lips parted to his left and right, the width of her open mouth still towering over him. Holding a grape nearly as large as his torso against his chest with both arms underneath, he stared into the dark abyss in front of him.

 Her tongue slowly crept from the bottom of her mouth, the tip touching its roof before flicking itself across the bumpy surface and scraping over the back of her top incisors. The red, slimy curtain dropped back to its original position, unveiling the back of her throat, her uvula desperately hovering above it, even with her neck laying horizontally.

Duncan moved his hands so that they were under either side of the grape and threw it forward with both arms like a chest pass. As it made contact with the middle of Ada’s tongue, it began to envelope it with its rising tip as her lips clamped shut. A few seconds later, he couldn’t stop staring as those lips twitched with each chew as she made short work of the grape.

He found it as harrowing as he did entrancing.

“Thanks, Duncan,” Ada said, slight droplets of grape juice splashing against his face.

Duncan took a few steps back, no longer able to keep his annoyance off his face. He hated how she was pretending to be polite, talking to him as though she saw him as a person, a friend even, and using proper manners. All while he was forced to be her servant. That was the real joke, and he hated being at the butt of it.

Ada quickly took notice of Duncan’s displeasure, this not being the first time in the past hour that she had been on the receiving end of such a glare.

“Right, the slavery thing. Sorry,” she said.

Her apologizing did nothing to wipe the hateful expression from Duncan’s face.

“Um, do you think you could get me another grape, please?” Ada asked. “Oh, uh, now?”

 Her tone was innocent, even a little nervous, but Duncan knew better. He grumbled as he turned around and started his trek across the width of the bed toward the bowl of grapes waiting for him on the other side.

However, he didn’t get far before that journey was interrupted.

“Wait,” Ada called out to him.

Duncan cleared his lungs in frustration before turning around. She was still lying there facing him, but her right index finger was deep inside her mouth, picking at something. He already didn’t like where this was going.

“So since we’re doing this whole servant thing,” Ada started, shooting him an anxious smile, “I’d really appreciate it if you could … well, if you could help me get this piece of grape skin that’s stuck in my back teeth.”

 Duncan froze, his mind going back to that grape. As he stared at her now calm, unmoving mouth, he could still hear the sound of her chewing it ringing in his ears. He could still see the image of her tongue taunting him with its playful movements despite it being hidden behind her sealed lips.

He really wanted to tell Ada no. Not only was he afraid of reaching into her mouth, but he was also curious as to how she might punish him. His first defiant act was likely to lead to too severe a punishment, he figured, but it would give him an idea of how sadistic a person he was dealing with,. He was confident, given everything he had endured before, that he could take whatever she wanted to dish out.

Yet Duncan knew he had to do this.

Just stick to the plan and keep doing whatever she says, he told himself. The right opening will come, just like with Kristie and Natasha, and then you’ll be out of here. Just don’t let her get suspicious of you.

 “No problem,” Duncan answered, keeping his voice flat.

Ada cheerily thanked him and opened her mouth wide once again. He tried not to look toward the back of her mouth, toward the infinite blackness of her gullet. Rather, he trained his eyes where he had seen her finger picking before, somewhere along her upper left molars, which hung above his head.

Duncan stepped between her open lips and reached out for the molars from there, but he was too short and couldn’t stretch far or high enough to touch them. With a shudder, he stepped inside her mouth until the targeted teeth were directly overhead, the wet yet oddly smooth flesh of her right inner cheek grossly squishing between his toes.

The grapes seemed to have lessened the foul-smelling stench that was on Ada’s breath before, so blasts of hot air constantly blowing past him were more tolerable this time. Putting that out of his mind, it didn’t take him long to locate the offending grape skin. However, he still couldn’t quite reach that high.

 With a sigh timed to match her exhale, ensuring that he didn’t inhale her used air this time around, Duncan raised his right foot and stepped onto the base of one of her lower left molars. He was mindful of her tongue, which laid dormant just in front of him, pressed into the bottom of her mouth.

He reached between Ada’s two backmost teeth, being careful not to cut himself on their sharp edges. With two hands, he started yanking on the grape remnant, making slow progress while using all of his strength. Throwing his whole body into a final tug, he was finally able to pull it free.

However, the force of the tug caused Duncan to lose his balance. The bottom of his foot brushed along her tongue, her tastebuds tickling his sole as he tumbled downward, his back crashing into her inner cheek.

Much to his horror, that contact was enough to awaken the beast.

Ada’s tongue stirred to life, flailing wildly as it searched for Duncan. It bent to the right as it started licking along the inner cheek, its tip passing over his left foot before he could even think to scurry back. Almost instantaneously, her lips smacked shut, leaving him in complete and total darkness.

The tongue slithered up and down his legs. A low moan of satisfaction rose from her throat, carrying with it enough force to rattle him to the bone. The shaking didn’t stop as the sound faded away, however. A primal, animalistic dread overwhelmed him, blocking his brain from rational thought.

Then, Duncan felt gravity shifting. He started to slide as the floor that was Ada’s inner cheek became a wall. But before he could fall to her gums, the tip of the tongue slipped under him and scooped him up. A slight parting of Ada’s lips provided just enough light for him to see that he was being carried past her teeth and to the center of her mouth.

 It wasn’t until he was lying on his stomach along the length of her tongue that he realized that he was hard. Through his boxers and shorts, his dick pressed against a couple tastebuds. As he struggled to remedy his anger at Ada, his fear of his situation, and this dirty but not unpleasant feeling, her tongue slammed him into the roof of her mouth.

The ridges of Ada’s hard palate grated against his back as she used her tongue to rub him along the top of her mouth. Another moan vibrated through Duncan, feeling so good on his hard cock and a little painful everywhere else. He was so confused that he didn’t know how to think, how to feel, and most certainly how to act.

That changed when he felt the tip of her tongue move back, brushing itself along his erection before maneuvering itself under his shirt. The shirt was starting to bunch up as its hem was drug along his chest as the tongue guided it with a lick along the same path.

She’s trying to take my shirt off! Duncan realized, having the first clear thought since being encased inside Ada’s mouth.

He suddenly began struggling with as much strength as he could muster. Ada’s tongue halted its satisfying assault, lowering him down from the roof of her mouth almost immediately. In seconds, he was spit onto the palm of her right hand.

Duncan looked up at her, seeing a mixture of confusion, concern, and shame written on her face. He himself was too bewildered by the incident to know how to feel, let alone what to express.

So the two of them just stared at each other for a while, the silence louder than any words they could speak at that moment.

********

 Ada didn’t know what to do.

For the past half hour, She had been painting her newest model of the Serenity on her desk, with her little friend helping out. Or at least, that’s how she wanted to see it. She just couldn’t understand how things became so fucked.

When Ada had found Duncan passed out in the grass, her first thought was one of concern. Once she realized that he was alive and that he was relatively unharmed, those thoughts turned to hopes of friendship.

She had been overlooked her whole life, picked on throughout grade, middle, and high school for being smart and not as thin as other girls. As horrible as that experience was, she hated college life even more. No one seemed to even notice her on campus. Of course, she never made an effort to talk to anyone either, but that’s only because that’s so hard.

So when Duncan woke up and Ada was able to hold a conversation with him, she thought things were going well. Then he tried to leave, and she panicked. And when he started throwing accusations at her, she became so frustrated that she started agreeing with him. The next thing she knew, she had a tiny little servant feeding her grapes.

That wasn’t what she wanted at all!

To make matters worse, the nicer Ada treated him, the angrier he became. It seemed there was no way to fix it. That’s why she had asked him to help with the food in her teeth; if he was going to be a slave for a while, she might as well use him in a way that she actually needed.

She still couldn’t believe that she … played with Duncan in her mouth like that. She didn’t even realize what she was doing at first. There was just this incredible flavor that kissed her tongue, and then she wanted more. By the time she was finished sitting up, she felt how hard he was and just knew he wanted more, too.

That was a bad read, however, like all her reads. When Ada started really exploring his body in her mouth, he began to freak out. That’s when she knew she had fucked up and spat him out. She was ready for him to scream at her, to tell her off and put an end to this weird slavery thing they had going on between them.

But Duncan didn’t do that. In fact, he hadn’t said a word since he had left her mouth. When she suggested they paint her model, the safest, most relaxing thing she could think of, all he did was nod, that distant look never leaving his eyes. Why wasn’t he yelling at her?! As she looked down on him painting the underside of the ship, she was struggling to come up with an answer.

Maybe … maybe he likes all this, Ada mused. Maybe this is all a game, and he’s got some weird slavery fetish or something. Maybe fighting me in mouth was a part of it, too. That has to be it. Nothing else makes sense!

This is why she hated people. They always hid what they really wanted, playing these stupid games that she could never figure out. Well not this time! This time, she had figured it out. If Duncan wanted to be treated like a worthless slave, then that’s how Ada was going to treat him.

Maybe then he’d want to be her friend.

Without warning Duncan, Ada reached down and pinched his waist between right forefinger and thumb. She lifted the complaining tiny up to her face, doing her best to keep a bored, indifferent expression on her face as she rotated her wrist, examining his body, his muscles visible through his still-wet clothes.

Ignoring his cries, she kept this up for a few minutes, actually finding herself starting to enjoy the little man’s struggles against her unbudging fingers. She gave his hips a slight squeeze, successfully quieting him down before finally addressing him.

“Alright, slave, I need to do some studying, so enough working on my ship for now,” Ada said, trying her best to sound regal. “I was impressed by your painting skills, though. So I have another job for you.”

She could barely suppress a giggle as she began to lower him under the desk next to her feet.

Duncan must be loving this, she thought.

********

Duncan really wished he wasn’t loving this.

He looked over at Ada’s left foot and examined his work. Her toes wiggled idly, showing off the midnight black paint job on each nail. The paint was applied flawlessly, with none of it making contact with the skin of her toes and no smudges to be seen.

But Duncan’s attention was soon focused not on his handiwork but on the mesmerizing movements of those slender, pretty toes. Her big toe would raise as her second toe would lower and vice versa, the two dancing with each other in perfect concert with one another. The gentle swooshing of the two digits rubbing together calling to him.

He shook his head, banishing those odd feelings welling up inside him. He hated this woman. She had just called him a slave right to his face. Not to mention her toying with him in her mouth. He definitely wasn’t going to get into how that made him feel anytime soon.

Duncan examined the nail of the big toe of Ada’s other foot as he stood before it, the massive digit nearly coming up to his waist. A ray of light found its way under her desk, shining brightly off the smooth, porcelain-like surface.

Better keep at it, he thought with a sigh.

Looking at the broken-off edge of a nail-polish brush in his right hand, Duncan turned around and made the short walk back to the bottle from whence it came. Stretching his right arm as high overhead as possible, he pushed on the base of the bottle with his left hand, elevating himself off the ground just enough to be able to dip the brush into the midnight black polish.

After taking a few seconds to let some of the polish drip off the brush and onto the tissue, he approached the big toe once again. He only had to bend over slightly as he began to work the brush over the nail, placing his left hand on the side of the toe for support.

Duncan couldn’t help but stare as the brush glided across the nail, the darkness of the polish swallowing the light reflecting off it. He used a soft touch as he worked the brush, being careful to apply the polish evenly and without smudging it.

His left hand absentmindedly began to rub the side of the toe, the friction of his palm running against its ridges sending a shiver up his arm and through his whole body. The toe responded as well, much to his surprise, wriggling up and down and side to side as it bumped him in the chest and knocked him over, leaving a large dab of dark polish on his white shirt.

Duncan’s gaze traveled up the towering denim-clad shin in front of him, finding Ada’s smiling face peering down at him from just over her knee.

“Quit it!” she rained down from above between giggles. “I’m ticklish!”

It took all Duncan had not to smile back before Ada sat back up and resumed her studies. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that he enjoyed being pushed around by her toes.

He looked back at the nail he was painting, noticing a smudge where it had struck him. The darkness covering up its former shininess struck a chord with him, and he began to wonder if he too was being swallowed up by Ada’s games.

Duncan couldn’t bring himself to hate her, but she infuriated him all the same. The mind game she was playing of pretending to be sweet and innocent as she tried to break his spirit was maddening. And the worst part was that it was working.

He found himself thinking back to her geeky ramblings earlier with more fondness than he would care to admit. Her feet also triggered his foot fetish. Is a fetish something that can be triggered? He wasn’t sure, as that part of himself was still new to him, but he knew that he liked being at her feet.

Getting off the ground, Duncan resumed his nail-painting duties, starting with fixing that smudge. But his thoughts on his situation didn’t die down. As he finished her big toe and moved to her second, he elected to get on his knees to work, putting the nail just below face level.

Despite his better judgment thought back to his time in her mouth and the fear and excitement it brought him. Now that he knew that she meant no harm, he concluded that her tongue had felt fantastic against his skin.

But when he thought about how it had brushed against his hard cock and tried to take off his shirt, it had made him feel something different. Something he was trying so hard to forget.

It wasn’t the same, Duncan tried to convince himself. She’s not Kristie. Besides, it’s been months since you’ve even … you know. Would it have really been so bad if she would’ve gotten m

He abruptly shook his head. No. He wasn’t going down that path. Even if she wasn’t trying to enslave him, he didn’t even feel that way about Ada. And she was trying to enslave him. She said so herself! This was just the Stockholm Syndrome talking. He had to do something before he lost himself.

As Duncan finished the last three toes, he realized that something needed to change. His plan wasn’t going to work. After surviving two monsters who each tortured him in their own way, he was losing the fight against Ada’s deceptive sweetness. He knew what he had to do.

I’ve been gobbling up the carrot this whole time, he mused. It’s about time I earned myself the stick.

Duncan put the brush back on the tissue and tapped on Ada’s right ankle, their agreed upon signal to let her know that he was finished. He stepped out from under the desk as she watched him from on high.

“Oops! Is that stain on your shirt from when I nudged you with my toe? Sorry,” she said. “Okay now, slave, next up is—”

“No.”

Ada gasped, eyes going wide at Duncan’s one-word interruption. He smirked as he gazed toward the heavens at her shocked expression. Whatever brand of punishment the nerdy girl decided to use on him, it was already worth it in his mind.

“No?” she asked.

Duncan’s smile turned into a grimace.

“That’s right, no,” he responded. “I’m done. You can do what you want about it. Whatever you’ve got, I can take it.”

Duncan felt all of that anger from earlier rising to the top. All the pretending that they were best buddies as she forced him into servitude. That domineering way she called him a slave outright, when she finally dropped the façade. That cheerful demeanor she kept throughout all of it.

“Do about it?” Ada asked, looking genuinely confused. “Take it? Take what?”

Well, if Duncan was already going to get punished anyway, he may as well let all those negative emotions out now.

“Cut the crap!” he practically screamed. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to tie me by the wrists and hang me from a moving ceiling fan? Done it. How about locking me up in a cage and making me sleep next to my own shit? Wouldn’t be the first time. How about the old reflex test, but with a needle instead of a mallet? I can tell you it doesn’t work. Anywhere.”

Jesus, Duncan, he scolded himself somewhere in the back of his mind. Maybe stop giving her ideas?

Duncan was about to continue, but Ada did something he didn’t expect. She took off her glasses and set them on the desk, wiping the tears from her eyes. She got off her chair, kneeling on her right knee, her right foot scraped against the carpet as it moved back to make room.

A small part of him wanted to tell her that the polish on those toes wasn’t dry yet and that she was smudging the shit out of it, but the rest of him knew that now wasn’t the time for that.

“S-someone really did all of that to you?” Ada sobbed. “I’m … I’m so, so sorry!”

Now it was Duncan’s turn to be shocked.

“I thought … I thought this slavery thing was some kind of game, that you were into it or something,” Ada explained. “I just didn’t want you to ignore me like everyone else does!”

As she lost herself in her crying once more, Duncan began to process what she told him. He replayed everything that had happened, from the time he woke up in her bed to her tearful apology, in his head, seeing her actions in a whole new light.

 And then he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Ada asked, her tears finally stopping.

Duncan struggled to calm himself, still chuckling as he finally replied.

“I just realized what a fucking idiot I am,” he said. “This whole thing is on me, so don’t worry about it.”

Ada looked at him with a quizzical expression.

“Don’t worry about it?” she questioned. “Duncan, I basically made you my slave. How can I not worry about it?!”

Duncan dismissed her words in his mind. If he hadn’t been so paranoid, none of this would have happened. But things might have worked out better this way. Now that he could see her genuine concern and guilt over her treatment of him, which wasn’t even that bad in his estimation, he felt like he could trust her.

“Okay, if you’re feeling that bad about it, you could do me a favor,” he said. “Do you think you could take me back to my roommate?”

********

The knock on the apartment door was the first significant sound to echo through the apartment in more than an hour.

Still sitting on the couch, Callie looked away from the blank TV screen she had been staring at and turned her head toward the door. Before Callie could stand, Monica had already stood up and was halfway to the door. The blonde was thankful that her friend was there to get the door. She couldn’t do company right now.

So Callie watched from the couch as Monica opened the door. She could just make out a slightly plump black-haired girl with glasses. It struck Callie how short the girl looked in front of Monica, although Callie figured she was probably average height, as Monica was pretty tall in her own right.

“Um, hi,” the girl said. “Is … is Callie here, by chance?”

Monica didn’t budge, giving the girl’s wardrobe of jeans and a black shirt with the word Dune written in red letters across the chest area a once over.

“I apologize, but Callie isn’t feeling in the mood for company at the moment,” Monica informed the girl. “If you could give me your name, I’ll inform her that you stopped in.”

Callie could tell the girl was nervous by the way she rubbed the right temple of her glasses between her right finger and thumb.

“Oh, right,” the girls said. “I’m Ada. I was hoping to talk to Callie about her roommate?”

By the time Callie had gotten off the couch, Monica had already ushered Ada through the door and into the living room.

“You know where Duncan is?!” Callie asked.

She wasn’t sure whether to feel hopeful or terrified. What if this girl was here to tell her that something terrible had happened to Duncan? Or maybe she’s here to tell Callie that Duncan is staying with her now. What if … what if Duncan was pissed about Callie almost killing him and doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore?

Before Callie could spiral further, Ada nodded and reached into her Grogu purse. A few seconds later, Duncan was standing before Callie in the palm of Ada’s right hand.

“Hey,” Duncan said as he craned his neck to make eye contact with Callie.

Callie crouched down, bending her knees and pointing them to the sides as she stood on the balls of her feet, putting her face level with Duncan’s fleshy platform.

She wanted to tell him how much she missed him and how sorry she was for almost killing him. She wanted to grab him right off that hand and hug him to her cheek. Or kiss him! Like, a lot! But the conflicting relief, excitement, guilt, and worry she felt at seeing him right there in front of her face kept her from doing any of those things.

“Hey,” Callie answered back.

That’s it?! she scolded herself. That’s all you have to say for yourself?! “Hey.” He’s gonna think you didn’t even care that he was gone, that you fucked up so bad! Say something, dammit!

“Tell me you didn’t already rent out my place.” Duncan interrupted her thoughts, a big grin on his face.

That smile pushed back all of those intense emotions swirling around inside Callie, at least for now. It always amazed her how effortlessly he seemed to be able to have that effect on her.

“It’s fine,” she replied with a sweet, genuine smile. “It should be easy enough evicting Daniel.”

Duncan gave Callie a faux scowl.

“Radcliffe again?!” he asked. “That magic-wand-using jerk has been stealing all my shit since we started sharing shirt sizes!”

The two roommates broke into laughter while Ada stared down at them, a perplexed look on her face.

“Don’t mind them,” Monica said as she stepped beside Ada. “They do this all the time, as though they’re in their own little world. You get used to it.”

As Ada and Monica began to chat, Callie put her hands together, palm-side up, and bridged the tips of her fingers with those on Ada’s right hand. Duncan gave Callie a questioning look, and she understood why. She hadn’t held him with both hands since their first night as roomies. But she wasn’t taking any chances.

Callie just couldn’t trust herself.

She felt Duncan’s bare feet tightrope walk across her right middle finger even though he didn’t need to, and it made her giggle. She also made a note that she still hadn’t figured out how to replace those old shoes that they had to throw out. She would figure it out. It was the least she could do.

Slowly, Callie began to stand upright. She cupped her hands so that Duncan slid into the center, shielding him in a bowl of fingers and palms. Once they finished their ascent, she flattened her palms again, leaving him just below chin level for Monica and herself and eye level with Ada.

“I’m so glad to see you return safe and sound,” Monica told Duncan. “That being said, would you mind apprising us as to where you’ve been and how you managed to find your way back?”

Callie looked up from Duncan and saw Ada’s cheeks going red and a slight sheen of sweat on her forehead. Before she could think about it too much, however, Duncan answered Monica.

“When I fell, I ended up getting kicked into the grass, thankfully not too hard,” he said. “Ada found me passed out and saved me. It took me a while to wake up, so she left me locked in her dorm room because she had a couple of later classes. As soon as she got back and saw I was awake, I told her what happened and she rushed me over here.”

Callie glanced down at Duncan, then back up at Ada, who was rubbing her right index finger and thumb along the right temple of her glasses again. The black-haired girl shot Duncan a small smile, though

“Y-yeah, that’s what happened alright,” Ada said. “Anyway, I-I don’t want to bother you guys. I should get going.”

She turned to leave, but Duncan called out for her

“Stay a while,” he said. “There’s actually something else I wanted to talk to you about now that we’re all together. But first, I really need a bath. So would you mind hanging out a bit?”

Ada didn’t speak but meekly nodded in response. Monica stepped in front of her and put out her right palm in front of Callie, touching her middle fingertip with the point where Callie’s pinkies met.

“Why don’t you entertain your guest while I draw Duncan a bath,” the executive said.

Callie and Duncan both agreed and he made his way onto Monica’s hand. With her hands free and Monica starting to move for the hallway, Callie stepped forward and threw her arms around Ada in a huge hug

 “Thank you,” Callie said, just holding back tears. “Thank you so much!”

With that, she took Ada by the hand and led her to the couch, apologizing for how shabby everything looked. As Callie saw Monica and Duncan leave the room, she pushed down all the stress she had been feeling even deeper, took on a more bubbly demeanor, and started getting to know the girl in the Dune shirt.

********

Duncan sat back against the back of the container serving as his oversized bathtub, using a pair of plastic blocks as arm rests as he enjoyed soaking in the slightly steaming chest-high water. This was what he needed after such a long day.

He had gotten lazy and maybe even a little spoiled since moving in with Callie. But that was just fine with him. He had missed these little comforts during his six months as a tiny drifter. The thought of how close he came to having to go back to that made him appreciate everything he now had.

Now all he had to do was sit back, relax, and—

Duncan’s relaxation session was bluntly interrupted as the ceiling of his house was lifted away. It was soon replaced by Monica’s stoic face as it hovered over the overhead opening.

“Jesus!” he yelled as he moved to cover his penis under the clear water. “What the fuck?!”

Monica looked down on him, a smirk forming on her face after seeing Duncan’s reaction.

“What?” she asked innocently.

Duncan glared up at her.

“Are you kidding me with this ‘Oh, what’s wrong’ bullshit!” he shouted. “I’m sitting here naked and you’re just … staring at me!”

Monica laughed away his complaint.

“You have nothing to be concerned about,” she said. “You’re not exactly my type.”

Duncan lowered his head.

“Oh,” he said. “So I’m too small to even be seen like that.”

Glancing back up, he was surprised to see some panic in Monica’s eyes.

“What?! No!” she said. “That’s not what I was saying at all. It’s just …”

Monica’s initial outburst had been a little too loud for Duncan’s tastes, especially with her being so close. But he wasn’t about to uncover his cock to cover his ears, so he just gritted his teeth and was thankful when she lowered her voice afterward.

“Duncan, you’re not my type because you’re a man,” she finally said.

Because he’s a man? It took Duncan a minute to understand what Monica was telling him. It wasn’t that he was too tiny to be seen as a man; it was that she was a lesbian. He felt a little better knowing that someone he so respected didn’t think less of him because of his size. But he still couldn’t help but think—

Wait, did she just come out to him?

Still looking up at Monica, Duncan saw, hiding behind her giant eyes, something he wasn’t accustomed to seeing in her: fear.

He didn’t like that.

“Okay,” he said, removing his hands from his penis.

Monica tilted her head as she stared down at him, her black tresses inadvertently invading his dining room.

“Just okay?” she questioned. “That’s it?”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he replied. “But I’m glad you feel comfortable enough around me to tell me.”

Monica straightened her head, cringing as she heard the sound of the dining room table being thrown across the room by her hair.

“You’re the only one I’ve told,” she said. “Other than my dates, obviously.”

Duncan smiled up at her, and the two shared a silent moment together before Duncan decided that he still had important business to attend to: relaxing the day’s stress away.

“Well, if that’s all you had to say, you can go ahead and put the lid back on,” he told her. “I’m sure Callie and Ada would love your company.”

That stoic look returned to Monica’s face.

“We need to talk about that. About her,” she said. “Why did you lie for her?”

Duncan matched Monica’s emotionless expression.

“I didn’t,” he said.

Backing off a little bit, Monica reached into the shoebox with her right hand, aiming for the bathroom. For a split second, Duncan thought the hand was coming for him, his muscles tightening in anticipation of whatever was coming.

But her hand stopped short, her index finger dipping into the opposite side of the container. It began to make smooth, circular motions, creating a tiny whirlpool that Duncan struggled to take his eyes off of.

“Oh, you’re good,” Monica said. “I would have believed you in the living room and even now … if you didn’t have such a terrible partner.”

Of course! Sure, Duncan didn’t tell Ada that he was going to cover for her, but she still could have done a better job of rolling with his lie. It seemed like Callie bought it, but he should have known Monica would pick up on Ada’s nervousness.

“Okay, fine,” he said. “Yeah, I lied. Ada deserves a break and needs some friends. You saw how quick Callie took to her. She did end up helping me out, so I wanted to return the favor.”

Monica’s index finger stopped twirling the water, holding perfectly still. Duncan tensed up, not sure what to expect. Then, her finger started rotating the other way, this time at a slightly faster pace and a slightly wider arc, creating a slightly bigger, slightly more intimidating whirlpool.

“And why would the truth get in the way of that?” she asked.

The pressure was starting to get to Duncan as he watched that finger work. It kept a perfectly steady pace, making perfect circles each rotation.

“So there was kind of a misunderstanding when I first woke up in her dorm room,” he began. “That part was mostly true, by the way. But she was there a lot sooner, and there was a miscommunication, and …”

Monica’s finger stopped again, only to start swirling around in the direction it had gone the first time, increasing its speed and width. Now Duncan could feel the whooshing of the water on the soles of his feet as the slender, elegant digit was stopping just short of brushing up against them.

“And?” she said in a calm, controlled voice.

Duncan couldn’t tell if it was bathwater or sweat pouring down his forehead.

“And she kind of, sort of treated me like a slave for a little bit,” he answered.

The finger stopped one more time, this time for good.

“She what?!” Monica yelled.

She took her index finger out of the water, only to place it on top of Duncan’s head and push down. He first felt his butt and legs and then his back slid against the plastic floor of the container as his head was submerged by the finger. It held him there for two seconds before lifting, allowing him to return to the surface.

“What the hell was that for?!” he said between coughs.

Monica frowned down at him.

“I thought perhaps it might help you come to your senses,” she said. “How could you open up your home to someone who tried to own you? Callie hugged her. She would have punched that girl in the face if she knew the truth!”

Duncan shook his head frantically.

“Don’t tell her!” he said. “The whole thing was my fault anyway. You see …”

Duncan detailed his time in Ada’s dorm room, leaving out the time he spent in her mouth. Monica was upset enough as it was, and he really didn’t want to bring up those mixed emotions at the moment anyway.

When he was finished explaining things, Monica agreed to keep quiet, although she didn’t look happy about it.

“And because I’m doing this for you, you’re going to cut your bath short and come to the living room with us,” she said. “Say whatever it is you have to say to her and be done with it. What did you want to talk to her about, anyway?”

Duncan gave her a nervous smile.

“She’s a hardcore science expert, so I was going to see if she’d be interested in that lab tech position we were looking to fill?” he winced, bracing for another verbal onslaught.

Monica just shook her head grabbing the lid to the shoebox.

“You have five minutes to get ready,” she said. “Otherwise I’m taking you out there naked.”

The lid was put back in its proper place, and Duncan had a ceiling again. As he climbed out of his tub and grabbed one of the cut-up rectangular pieces of washcloth he used as a towel, one thought was on his mind.

Well that could have gone a lot worse!

Chapter End Notes:

Well that turned out better than expected. Or was this exactly what you expected? I don't know; I'm not a mind reader. Maybe let me know how blatantly predictable or wildly unpredictable I am with a review? Or kind words. We always accept those here. And mean ones, too, I guess.


Duncan vs. the Tacit Trauma

Word Count: 12830
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

Okay, so this is another one of those times that I need to give a heads up to the people who are looking to avoid those "ungentle" moments a mentioned back in the first wo chapters. For those looking to avoid those, you may want to skip over the second segment of this one.

With that out of the way, this is the longest chapter in the story so far (it beats out chapter two by a hair, I believe), but I also think it's the most eventful one so far. So give it a read and maybe let me know what you think, yeah?

Monica couldn’t stop a smirk from spreading across her elegant lips as she pretended to study the figures displayed on her computer monitor.

Her right foot, housed in snug black stockings, continued to pat against the tightly bound gray carpet of her office floor as they wandered in search of their prey. She refused to look down and through the glass surface of her desk. It would be cheating to use her bird’s eye view to her advantage, after all.

Besides, where would be the fun in that?

Tucking a few errant strands of her dark hair behind her right ear, Monica slouched back in her lavishly cushioned swivel chair and stretched her seemingly endless right leg even further under the desk. Her eyes stared through her company’s first-quarter numbers as the tip of her tongue pierced her lips and touched the right corner of her mouth.

It was when her foot brushed up against one of her discarded high heels that she heard it: the faintest of squeaks, only audible because of how quiet she liked to keep her office.

So that’s where you’re hiding, Monica mused, never taking her eyes off the screen. A bold strategy indeed, little Duncan.

She wiggled her toes in front of the tipped-over black shoe’s opening, blocking the exit. Then, still not looking down at all, she hooked the back of the shoe with her toes and dragged it toward her. Returning to sitting upright and with the right shoe now directly in front of its matching foot, she tipped the shoe upright with only her pinkie toe.

Monica finally peeked through the top of her desk, catching just a glimpse of Duncan tumbling out of view and toward the toe section of her footwear.

Her foot hovered above the opening, toes pointed down, for a solid thirty seconds. Then it descended, diving toward the blackness waiting to receive her foot and the little man trapped inside.

However, just as those lengthy toes reached the top lip of the shoe, Monica’s big toe separated from the other four, dipping under the lip while the others rested on top of it. Squeezing it between her big and second toes, she began to lazily straighten out her knee, lifting her foot and its cargo in the process.

Keeping Duncan beneath her toes was too much of a temptation, one she doubted she could resist. It would have been too easy to manipulate his little body under there, particularly below the waist. The thought of making someone cum with the simplest of her movements was quite an enticing one for her.

But there was a line with Duncan that Monica didn’t want to cross, and she could tell by the way he still resisted against the fact that he was enjoying her playing with him that he felt the same. The last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize the sense of kinship between them for a cheap, meaningless thrill.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun from time to time, however.

As Monica’s foot rose higher and higher, she noticed Duncan sliding the long length of the shoe’s sole, all the way down to the heel. Just as her knee straightened out completely, she loosened her toes’ grip on the shoe and started to gently swing it as it hung from just her big toe.

The smirk she had been wearing opened into a predatory grin as she watched him roll over the lip of the heel, barely grabbing it with both hands to keep from plummeting almost two stories to the ground below. Of course, she had her left foot poised to catch him if he were to fall, but he didn’t need to know that!

As the shoe swayed back and forth, Duncan’s lower half swung wildly in an involuntary effort to match the oscillatory motion. Just as Monica was beginning to wonder if she was going a bit too far, he looked over his shoulder, a defiant smirk on his face. She raised her eyebrow in anticipation, knowing him well enough to know that he was about to try something.

Intriguing, she thought, the corners of her mouth curling upward even more. I do love a good challenge!

Monica began to increase the speed of the swinging shoe, but he was ready for her. As it started its descent from its left peak, he pulled himself up enough to put his feet around the rim of the lip and pushed off with his legs.

The executive gasped, lifting her left foot beneath him at about half the distance between Duncan and the floor, not wanting to accidentally kick him by moving upward too fast. But he didn’t fall straight down. His trajectory instead took him just under her right heel.

He grabbed the pantyhose surrounding the heel, using his momentum to swing forward and slightly to the side, right for the upper portion of Monica’s left shin. He landed on his feet just below her knee, but the combination of a shaky landing and the steep angle of her leg caused him to fall backward.

She kept her leg perfectly still as Duncan rolled down the length of her stocking-covered shin like a stray tumbleweed against asphalt, not wanting an accidental movement on her part to send him falling to the floor. Perhaps the hardest part was ignoring the slight tickle traveling down her leg as his meager weight was just enough to cause the silky leggings to rub against her smooth, soft skin.

He recovered by the time he reached Monica’s ankle, however. He propelled himself off the side of her foot, swiftly climbed down her ankle, and landed on his feet after letting himself fall the shorter distance to the floor. Still in shock, she let her feet fall to the floor in front of him as she waited for her heartbeat to slow down.

Staring back up at her, with a shit-eating grin on his face, Duncan gave her a mocking salute and started to run toward the opposite end of the desk.

Fuck, all that American Ninja Warrior training is paying dividends! Monica thought as she started laughing. It seems instead of going too far, I’ve not been going far enough!

It was her left foot that had been violated, so Monica thought it only fair that it should strike the first blow. Without needing to extend her leg, she lifted her foot slightly off the ground and swung it Duncan’s way. Its side, midway between her big toe and her heel, lightly batted him from his left, sending him tumbling to his right as he fell from the impact.

He quickly reached his feet, only for her to send her right foot after him next. It collided with his right side, sending him back the way he came. Next, her left foot came in before he had even pushed himself off of his knees. She kept at it for a few more minutes before allowing him to stand unimpeded.

If Duncan thought this was an act of mercy, he was wrong. Monica crossed her right leg over her left, bouncing her right foot in the air idly as she looked down on him with a maddening grin. He took a step back, and the foot stopped bouncing, perking up.

“Go ahead,” she told him.

Duncan turned and ran, eliciting a small, haughty giggle from Monica. After giving him a few seconds, she casually lifted her right leg from her left, then took aim for him as she dropped her foot to the floor.

He didn’t get very far before her foot landed on him, her curled-in toes making contact as she bumped his shoulder blades and knocked him flat on his face. The foot stretched out luxuriously as it started to set itself down flat with him caught directly underneath it.

Knowing that Duncan was small enough to easily be completely covered by her foot did nothing to take away Monica’s amazement at watching him disappear under her instep. She felt him wriggling underfoot as she placed just enough pressure on him to keep him in place but not enough to hurt him.

She let her foot remain there for a while, finding his squirming struggles to be quite delightful! All of his effort amounted to a gentle massage on the arch of her foot. She let out a satisfied hum as she shifted her foot slightly to either side, enjoying the sensation from various angles.

Finally, Monica slid her foot back a little, letting the ball of her foot and her toes slither over Duncan’s body, all the way down to his ankles. Her big and second toes locked in on his left ankle, pinching it between them. She then dragged him slowly across the carpet and back to her foot’s natural seated position.

But his ride didn’t end there. She crossed her legs once again, but this time her right foot took him with it on its ascent. After her foot came to rest with right shin sitting on her left knee, she began to bounce it idly once more, this time its prey clutched within its jaws.

Monica couldn’t help but chuckle as she felt Duncan’s body softly slap against her sole with movement of her ankle. She glanced back up at the business data on her monitor and considered doing some actual work for a short while, leaving him hanging in the most literal sense.

She thought better of it though, sure that her point had been made. She reached down with her left hand and plucked her miniature employee between the tips of her index finger and thumb. She raised him to her face, that smug smirk returning by the time he arrived.

“Ugh, remind me to say ‘no thanks’ the next time you offer me a day off,” Duncan said.

Monica set him down in front of her keyboard, with him taking a seat on its frame to catch his breath.

“Don’t pretend as though you didn’t enjoy that,” she scolded him with a smile. “You knew exactly what I had in mind when I made the offer.”

Monica’s right hand made for Duncan, her forefinger extending in time to give him a playful poke to his left shoulder, almost pushing him on his side.

“Besides, not every boss would give their dear employee a day off in back-to-back weeks,” she said. “Perhaps you should be thanking me rather than complaining.”

Her words were lecturing, but the smile she wore as she said them was genuine, one she never wore around the office.

“Boss, a shady nerd with glasses is here to see you,” Alyssia spoke through the intercom, her voice coming through much quieter than usual.

“Oh, um, did you really ha—” Ada’s voice cut off mid-sentence as the intercom went silent.

Monica’s smile morphed into a scowl as she pressed the talk button on the intercom.

“Show Ms. Sanders in,” she said before releasing the button.

As the door opened Alyssia led Ada into the office, Duncan stood up from the keyboard and gave Monica a look.

“Be nice!” he said loud enough for her to hear but much too quiet to travel across the room as the two younger women made their way over.

Monica rolled her eyes behind Duncan’s back as he walked toward the front of her desk. Then she put on a neutral expression, her best effort at “being nice” during working hours and with this particular visitor.

“A Ms. Ada Sanders here to steal your little man,” Alyssia said with a grin.

Looking over the two girls in front of her desk, the difference between them was stark. Alyssia, with her baby blue blouse, black pencil skirt, and skin-colored stockings, looked a bastion of professionalism. Ada, on the other hand, with her black t-shirt with white text reading “Han Shot First” and old, raggedy jeans, looked anything but.

“I’m not stealing him,” Ada countered. “He’s a person, not a possession.”

Alyssia narrowed her sparkling blue eyes at Ada, dropping her congenial smile.

“It’s really weird to hear you say that,” Alyssia sneered.

Ada lowered her head and stared at her feet in shame.

“Hey, can you leave her alone? Please?” Monica heard Duncan squeak from the front of her desk. “The whole thing was my fault, anyway.”

Alyssia shot Duncan an incredulous look. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. Instead, she reached down to Monica’s desk, the secretary's left hand aiming right for Duncan as it descended. The CEO had to remind herself that Alyssia wasn’t a threat as she fought the urge to protectively snatch the tiny man away.

Alyssia plucked Duncan from the desk by the back collar of his gray shirt, lifting him up and dangling him in front of her eyes.

“I suppose I can do that,” she said, batting him in the side with her right index finger. “You’re a lot more fun to mess with than Qui-Gon Nerd over there.”

Monica watched as Alyssia’s sharp blue irises tracked Duncan as he swung back and forth from the force of her forefinger’s blow. She was about to tell her assistant to knock it off, but as Duncan spun around a bit from the momentum of his sway, she could see that he was neither scared nor angry: just mildly annoyed.

“Are you done?” he asked with a level voice.

Alyssia pursed her lips and rubbed her chin with her right forefinger and thumb. Her eyes looked off to the upper right as she tilted her head slightly to the left, making her wavy brunette hair bounce slightly. She hummed as though in deep contemplation.

And then she batted him with her finger again.

“Yes,” Alyssia said as she watched him swing in front of her face once again.

Monica could just hear Duncan chuckle.

“You’re a child,” he said in a tone much less scolding than the words themselves.

Alyssia joined in with a giggle.

“You know me so well,” she said.

With that, Alyssia told Ada to hold out her hand and set Duncan down in the college girl’s right palm. Before Ada could put him in her purse, however, Alyssia crouched down so that her face was level with him.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about that nickname,” she whispered ominously. “When you least expect it.”

Duncan laughed off the threat while Ada looked on curiously. Soon Duncan and the two girls were out of Monica’s office, leaving the executive to lament that she now had to actually examine those first-quarter numbers.

********

“That was awesome!” Ada cheered, marking some numbers into her notebook.

Duncan’s fully extended arms continued to strain as he laid on the weight bench, holding the bar, a straightened out paperclip curled-in ends, over his chest. He moved his arms back and racked the bar onto the makeshift bar catch, the slightly open ends of a hair pin either side.

He sat up and looked back at the bar. On each end, four unbent paper clips were attached, the curled-in ends of the bar wedged through the center of each one to prevent them from hanging loose or falling. He wiped a thick sheen of sweat from his brow and looked up at the giant lab tech that had been analyzing his every move for the past two hours.

“Yeah, eight paperclips,” Duncan said, mock flexing as he made light of his accomplishment. “Awesome.”

Ada set her notebook and pen down to the side and shifted from kneeling to sitting in front of the end table on which Duncan’s gym was situated. She gave him a serious look.

“First, it’s nine paperclips,” she said. “The bar counts, too.”

Duncan chuckled snidely.

“Nine paperclips, excuse me,” he said, more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Any other feats of strength you want to put me through? Let’s see, I could see how many sticks of gum I could deadlift. Oh, or maybe you want me to carry a packet of sugar on each shoulder and walk all the way across the table? Man, these tests are doing wonders for the old self-esteem!”

Ada frowned down at him.

“Ahem,” she said, only mildly pretending to clear her throat. “Second, you’re being way too hard on yourself. Those paperclips add up to about 10 grams. Calculating for your current size, that’s the equivalent of you bench pressing 350 pounds at your normal size.”

Duncan glanced back at the bar and its weights.

“Holy shit, really?” he asked.

Ada answered with an eager nod.

“Yes, really,” she said. “And you did it four times, Duncan. Four times! I hate all things jock and even I’m impressed.”

Duncan was unsure how to feel. On the one hand, he knew lifting nine paperclips was nothing, That he was nothing. On the other, proportionally speaking, he was kind of impressed with himself, too. He was never a gym rat, but he did work out from time to time before shrinking, and benching 350 pounds one time was something he never thought possible, let alone four times.

He didn’t know whether to be excited or depressed. So he chose to just move on instead.

“And you think this proportional boost in strength might have something to do with me shrinking?” Duncan asked.

Ada shook her head.

“It was a theory that Dr. Catamaunt and I discussed the first time I talked to him,” she responded. “But while you’ve put up stellar numbers all week, they aren’t to the level we would expect them to be if you had just gained density from something like the space between your atoms compressing. It seems like you just naturally worked your way into peak physical condition.”

Duncan reached down to the floor on his left side to pick up his sweat towel, a small sliver of wash rag cut in a perfect rectangle. He threw it over the back of his neck and stood up, walking to the edge of the end table facing Ada.

“So no more workout stuff, then?” he asked.

Ada picked up her notebook and pen and stood up herself, the surface of the table coming just above her knee.

“That’s right,” she said. “We’re still working on ways to collect the various samples in the amounts we need. I wouldn’t expect to have your blood drawn any time soon from the sound of it, for example.”

Duncan grabbed a corner of the towel hanging off his left shoulder and dabbed some sweat off his forehead.

“I’m not even going to pretend I’m upset about that,” he said. “Fuck needles.”

Ada went silent for a moment. Duncan noticed her face turning a light shade of red as she bit her lower lip nervously. When she finally spoke, she looked down at the notebook as if studying it and had a slight quiver in her voice.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.

While Duncan knew his old self would shoot down such a question right away, he had to admit he was curious about what the shy girl wanted to know.

“Sure,” he replied. “I think I owe you at least that for all the shit Monica and Alyssia have been giving you.”

Duncan did feel bad about that. Ever since telling Monica the truth about what happened in Ada’s dorm room, his boss had been anything but kind to Ada. While Monica didn’t tell Callie about the lie, the daggers she stared into Ada put the fear of God into the poor girl.

Monica even went to Ada’s dorm room after she accepted the lab tech position to “lay out the ground rules” for her employment. Ada didn’t give details on that particular discussion, but from how timid and nervous she was when they started testing the next day, he had a pretty good idea how it had gone down.

Now Alyssia was starting to join in. Duncan was touched that both Monica and Alyssia would be so upset at what they saw as his poor treatment, but he also wished they would just give Ada a chance.

“Are Callie and you dating?” Ada blurted out.

It took a few seconds for Duncan to even process the question. He felt close to Callie, sure, but dating? Is she kidding? He knew his chances of going out with a girl like Callie were slim enough at full size. Someone as hot, funny, smart, kind, and caring as her could pretty much have whoever she wants.

And would she ever want someone who’s less than three inches? Tall, not dick size. It was laughable to even think about.

“No,” Duncan chuckled slightly to cover up the painful reality behind his words. “That’ll never happen.”

Ada looked up from the notebook, her eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh, okay,” she said, pausing for a minute. “Well, anyway, there is one sample that we are ready to collect today.”

Reaching into her right pocket, Ada pulled out a tiny container that was roughly bucket-sized to Duncan. She set it down with her right hand. Then she snatched Duncan with her left.

As she picked him up, she tilted her hand, leaving him laying with his back against her palm. Her fingertips snaked under his left arm and rose up over his side while the base of her palm did the same as it smushed into his right side, holding him in a soft grip but leaving his arms free.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he asked.

A sheepish grin crossed Ada’s face.

“Well, uh, i-it’s just that the sample, the one we’re going to take now,” she hesitated before continuing. “It’s a semen sample.”

Duncan noticed Ada’s face getting redder. Her behavior became more confusing by the moment.

“Okay, so I guess I can do that,” he said. “But why am I up here?”

Ada took a deep breath before, releasing it in a nervous sigh, before answering.

“I felt it in there,” she said. “Your, um, your penis, I mean. When it was hard in my mouth last week?”

Duncan didn’t like where this was going. He had been intentionally dodging the subject all week. She had tried to bring it up a few times, making jokes about him helping her pick stuff out of her teeth, mostly. It was clear she was trying to start a conversation each time, but it had been easy enough to pretend like it went over his head.

Was she pissed? Not likely, as she had tried taking his shirt off with her tongue at the time. Maybe she’s just feeling weird about it and wants to clear the air? He could suck it up and do that if that’s what she needed. But why hold him like this? The only thing he could think of was—

Oh shit.

“No need to look scared,” Ada said, picking now of all times to start finding her confidence. “I’m not mad about it or anything. In fact …”

Her right hand slowly approached from above, carefully pinching his right pantleg by the hem. Slowly, she tugged, slipping his tan shorts down his legs.

Duncan froze.

“… now that I know how you feel,” Ada continued, flicking her wrist lazily as she tossed his shorts, not taking her eyes off him to see if they made it to her intended target, the end table, “I know a way that we can get that sample and have some fun doing it.”

As her right index finger slipped under his shirt, Duncan couldn’t find his voice. He knew this wasn’t the same as what Kristie had done to him. Ada wasn’t holding him nearly as tightly and she was being so careful removing his clothes. He truly believed that if he said no, this would stop.

So why couldn’t he speak?

Ada gently pulled Duncan’s shirt over his head, taking a moment to admire his firm pecs. But it didn’t take long for her hungry eyes to drift down to those handcrafted boxers.

“Just think of this as my way of apologizing for the whole enslavement thing,” she said as her free hand reached for that last article of his clothing. “You’ve been so nice to me since then, and I want to return the favor.”

As his boxers were removed, every muscle in Duncan’s body tightened, leaving him completely stiff. He broke out into a cold sweat. He opened his mouth to say the one word that would end his torment, but nothing would come out.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything,” Ada told him as she sat on Callie’s bed, leaning her back against a white pillow at the head of the bed and the cream-colored wall. “I know it’s a surprise, something like this coming from me, but I can do this. I want to do this. So just lay back and let it happen.”

That hand came back again, this time guided only by her index finger.It stopped just short of touching Duncan’s flaccid cock, and he looked up to see just a hint of hesitation in her eyes. Maybe now he could find the strength to—

“Sorry,” Ada said. “It’s just, this is my first time doing anything … like this. I’m kind of nervous. But don’t worry, I’ve got this!”

The ridges of her fingertip brushed softly against his shaft, and Duncan felt it move slightly in response. He glanced down at it, as though he could command it to stop. He heard a playful giggle coming down from the heavens.

“Well, someone’s awake!” Ada laughed.

Panic started to set in for Duncan, he turned his gaze back up to Ada’s face, only all he could see was Kristie and that same arrogant smirk she wore that day. Ada’s shy, honest words were replaced by Kristie’s harshness and mean-spirited taunts. His breathing started to get heavier.

“Oh!” Ada said. “You’re already so into this!”

She brought her thumb down to join her forefinger as the pair worked Duncan’s dick, kneading it like a coin, adding just enough pressure to maximize the pleasurable friction against his member without hurting him. It didn’t take long for him to feel himself reach full mast.

Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Duncan shouted inside his mind, unsure if he was referring to Ada or himself.

Instead, all that came out of his mouth was an involuntary moan, which elicited another chuckle from his unwitting tormentor. She increased the speed of her rubbing fingers and he could feel his heartbeat through his cock. A single tear leaked out of his left eye.

Then, the fingers stopped.

“Mmmm,” Ada moaned. “That was a nice warm up, but let’s up the ante a little, yeah?”

No! Duncan tried to shout as he was lifted back up to her flushed face. Please!

He felt himself being pushed forward, and Ada’s pillowy red lips parted slightly to receive him. As they closed, his rock hard erection was sandwiched dead center between them, her upper lip covering the entirety of his abs and her lower one doing the same to his thighs.

Then Duncan felt her tongue poke through from the other side of her lips and quickly zero in on his throbbing member. Its tip tickled the head of his penis before slithering down the shaft and brushing up against his balls, leaving a slimy trail behind it. The tongue retracted just a tiny bit and began working its way up and down his shaft.

But it wasn’t until he felt himself getting close that Duncan lost it.

He finally realized that his arms were actually free this time and started beating his fists just under Ada’s nose. She didn’t seem to feel it, though, too in the moment to notice his weak punches. Or maybe she thought that was his way of getting into it. Either way, it wasn’t working.

So Duncan tried the only other thing he could think of, something that, for whatever reason, he couldn’t do up until then. Desperate and without any other option, he sucked in as much air as he could.

And then Duncan screamed as loud as he could.

********

Callie made sure to watch her step as she walked through the apartment door.

“Ada? Duncan?” she called out. “Class got canceled, so neither of you better try to yell at me for ditchin’!”

Her eyes still glued to the floor, Callie shut the door behind her and stepped deeper into the living room. She had gotten used to walking more carefully around the apartment over the first three weeks of sharing it with Duncan. Well, knowingly sharing it, anyway.

But she became much more vigilant about it throughout the past week. Ever since she almost lost Duncan. Nothing like that would happen again; she would make sure. She wouldn’t screw up again.

Remembering that Ada said she wanted to continue with the fitness tests today, Callie made her way down the apartment’s short hallway. Halfway down the corridor, she heard a panicked voice coming from her room, although it was muffled by the closed door. She ran the rest of the way to the door, and that’s when she heard the screaming.

She knew that scream.

Callie threw her shoulder into the door as she opened it, bursting into the room. Standing above the far side of her bed was Ada, a frantic look upon her face. She was talking to her hand in near hysterics.

“Duncan, please!” she cried out. “J-just tell me what’s wrong!”

There, in Ada’s left hand, was a naked Duncan, yelling incoherently as he wriggled violently in a vain effort to escape her fingers as they squeezed him into her palm from his side. Callie recognized that grip. It was just like she had envisioned in her head after several nights of listening to Duncan endure his nightmares.

Callie knew exactly what was going on here.

“What the fuck?!” she shouted, unable to keep the anger out of her voice, nor wanting to.

Callie wasted no time crossing the room, making a beeline for Ada, who gently set Duncan on the bed as soon as Callie started moving toward her.

“Callie!” Ada cried out. “I don’t know what to do! He ju—”

She didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence. Instead, Callie shoved her away from the bed. Hard. Ada fell onto her side, the force of the push being enough to knock the glasses off her face before she even hit the ground. The black-haired girl opened her mouth to speak but only sobs came out.

Callie was still seething. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for this monster. She wanted to beat her ass! But there was something about watching her lay there, balling her eyes out, that got to Callie, just a little bit.

“Get the fuck outta here!” Callie screamed.

Ada scrambled to her feet, and sprinted out of the room in tears, leaving behind her glasses. As she took a few deep breaths to calm herself, Callie faintly heard the apartment door slam shut as she turned her attention to the bed and the little man laying on it.

Duncan was curled into the fetal position, his knees practically in his stomach as he wrapped both arms around his shins. He was looking straight ahead with a thousand-yard stare, babbling something so quietly that Callie couldn’t make it out while standing. She slowly got to her knees, careful not to make any sudden moves.

“Duncan?” she said softly.

Callie nudged him with her right index finger, then started rubbing Duncan’s right side with her fingertip. She called out to him a couple more times before he acknowledged her. He looked up at her, disoriented at first.

He took a few minutes to collect himself before he stood up and covered his crotch with both hands. She found his clothes scattered about the floor and end table, gathering them up and giving them to him. She turned around while he changed in deafening silence.

“Well this is embarrassing,” Duncan said.

Callie turned around to see him in the same clothes he had been wearing when Alyssia had picked him up to head to the office that morning.

“You got nothing to be embarrassed for,” she said. “I just … I can’t believe Ada would do that to you. I hugged that bitch! The fuck is wrong with her?!”

Callie noticed that Duncan wasn’t looking at her but instead kept his gaze on the white bedspread beneath his feet.

“It’s not her fault,” he mumbled. “She thought I was good with it. All I had to do to stop her was tell her to stop or struggle against her or even just show her that I was upset. That’s all I had to do. I just … couldn’t. Fucking pathetic.”

Callie looked down at Duncan then over her shoulder at the glasses laying on the floor in the corner. She was trying to process what he was saying, what really happened.

“You’re not pathetic,” she said. “No one would have handled that any better, not after what you’ve been through.”

Callie turned back around, finding that Duncan didn’t respond, keeping his focus near his feet.

“Me, though, I fucked up bad,” she continued. “I didn’t even give Ada a chance. Just ran her off. And all because I was so scared of fuckin’ up with you again.”

Duncan looked up and met Callie’s gaze.

“Fucking up with me?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

Callie chucked at the question.

“Jesus, where to start?” she said. “I almost stepped on you the day after we met. I almost killed you a couple times during the exam. I lost you because I was too busy talkin’ to Brooklyn when you were stuffed down my tits, without a bra, even. Oh, and the first time I saw you, I fuckin’ charged at you. That should count, too. Fuck, what haven’t I done to you?”

Duncan tilted his head to the right as he stared up at her, dumbfounded.

“And you’ve been worrying about this stuff, what, all week?” he asked. “That’s why you’ve been weird since I made it back?”

Callie nodded, holding back tears. Duncan started walking toward the edge of the bed, right in front of where she was kneeling.

“There’s a part of my story, the one about how I got here, that I left out,” he said as he sat down at the bed’s edge, his feet dangling over the side. “It was pretty embarrassing, so I kept it to myself, but now I need you to hear it.”

Callie slid her legs out from under her and shifted to sit cross-legged. She leaned in so that her face was right in front of Duncan, her elbows on her knees and her chin sitting atop her folded hands.

“I thought I was dead pretty early on,” he said. It had only been a couple of weeks since I escaped Kristie, and I had only made it a block or so away. I was working my way through the yard of this place that had been for sale since I started dating her. This ugly, worn-down lime green house I used to pass by whenever I’d go for walks, back when it wasn’t life threatening to do that.”

Callie knew that place. She walked by it on her way to campus all the time. That “For Sale” sign had been planted in the yard since freshman year.

“I stayed close to the house since no one was living there and it was safer than walking by the sidewalk,” Duncan said. “When I was about halfway across, this gray cat, a stray I’d stop and pet once in a while, popped out from between that house and the next one.”

Bailey! Callie realized. She hangs out around there all the time.

“It saw me right away,” Duncan continued. “I didn’t have time to do anything. It was on me before I could even try to run. One of its paws fell on top of me, pinned me down. It let me get up, but it swiped me with its paw, knocked my ass about five feet away. It let me get up and hit me with the other paw. It just kept doing it, having a good time before dinner.”

A gasp escaped Callie’s lips. Her hands were shaking. Even though she knew that he survived the story, it wasn’t enough to fill that empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“A car drove by way too fast, music way too loud,” Duncan explained. “It scared the cat off for a second; that’s the only reason I’m alive. I got up and ran for a small crack in the foundation in the house. I barely made it before the cat had a chance to get me again.”

Duncan looked off the side for a second, sighing before facing Callie again.

“I had to stay in that crack for a full day, listening to that cat’s claws scratch right outside it, not quite small enough to reach in and get me,” he said. “While I was in there, I cried, I prayed, I curled up into a ball like I did just a minute ago. I asked all the stupid questions people ask when they get in bad situations: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? All that shit.”

Callie had asked herself those questions before. Several times in fact. But never like that. Never staring death in the face.

“After a few hours of that, I realized something,” Duncan said. “None of that matters. This happened to me, and because of that, my lifespan has shortened. By a lot. No pun intended.”

Wait, what? Callie wondered.

“I realized that, instead of having years to live, I probably only had days before something killed me. Maybe weeks if I was lucky,” Duncan explained. “Things this small just don’t live very long. And that hit me while I was in the crack, I knew I had a choice: I could keep fighting it and keep thinking like I did when I was big, or I could accept it and make the most of the time I have left. I chose the second one.”

Accept it? Callie asked herself. Like, accept that he’s going to die way too soon?!

“If I hadn’t done that, if I had kept worrying about every little thing that could kill me, I would have never made it as long as I did,” Duncan said. “I’m still scared to die, but I’m prepared for it. I know it’s coming now, so I don’t let it slow me down. Do you understand?”

Callie was too consumed by a deep sense of dread to come up with words, so she just shook her head.

“All that stuff you talked about? It’s fine,” Duncan said. “I’m not worried about any of it, and you shouldn’t be either. When my time comes, it comes. And if you accidentally are a part of that, I won’t blame you. So try not to worry about it so much, okay?”

He won’t blame her? Don’t worry about it? Callie was struggling to comprehend what he was saying. Did he really expect her not to care if something happened to him, especially if it was her fault?! She was depressed. She was angry. She was confused. She was starting to have trouble breathing.

She had to get out of there.

“Hey, are you good?” Duncan asked.

But wait, could Callie leave Duncan alone? What if something happened to him while she was gone?

God, he’s right! she thought. He’s, like, so small, almost anything could …

Callie couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. She wouldn’t.

“Callie?” she barely registered Duncan’s voice.

Callie had always wanted to make sure Duncan was safe, but her need to protect him had never been so strong. Whether that was because he had suddenly made her more aware of the dangers he faced everyday or the nonchalant attitude he displayed about said dangers, she wasn’t sure.

So she would have to bring him with her, then.

“Seriously, what’s up?” Duncan asked. “I’m starting to worry here.”

But if Callie did that, something could happen to him. Out there. Again. Could she really trust herself after being so careless just a week ago?

No, she couldn’t. Maybe she just shouldn’t—

“Hey!” Duncan yelled as he stood up.

That got Callie’s attention.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to push aside the distracting internal conflict. “What’s up?”

Duncan just stared at her for a moment, holding her attention as his gaze pierced her soul.

“I think you should run Ada’s glasses back to her,” he said slowly. “Maybe you guys could talk out what just happened between you two?”

Callie leaned in closer, studying her puny roomie. Was he giving her an excuse to leave? How did he know? How did he always know what she needed?

But the most important question was, what did he need?

“But what about you?” she asked. “I don’t feel right just leaving you here after—”

Duncan was quick to cut her off.

“I’m good to hold down the fort while you’re gone,” he said. “It’s okay. Just go. I’ll be fine.”

Callie nodded silently and stood up herself. She picked up Ada’s glasses and gave a small wave to Duncan before walking out of the room, losing herself in her thoughts once more.

********

 Callie couldn’t look away from the grass as she slowly strolled down the sidewalk.

She was vaguely aware of Ada’s glasses, still clutched in her right hand, brushing gently against her skinny jeans at thigh level with each swing of her arm. She also wasn’t paying much attention to the other people walking along the same path, be they fellow students or actual residents of the houses lining the street.

How many times did I walk right by him? Callie wondered. How many times could I have helped him if I’d just looked down on my way to class?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had always assumed that Duncan’s journey had taken place entirely in the same neighborhood she walked through almost every day. But there was something about hearing him talk about his near-death experience with Bailey that made her realize what that really meant.

“Watch it!”

Callie finally looked up from the grass and stopped her stride to see an older gentleman admonishing her. The man shook his head in annoyance as he stepped around her. She started to turn around to apologize, but stopped halfway through when something caught her eye.

It was an ugly, worn-down lime green house.

Almost directly below her was a familiar “For Sale” sign planted in the yard. The grass was a bit overgrown, the tips of its blades stretching just past ankle height, despite her standing on the slightly elevated platform of the sidewalk. Looking at the house itself, she could just make out the top half of a crack in the foundation.

Almost hypnotically, Callie walked through the grass, approaching the crack. Once she arrived, she crouched down and reached toward it with her right hand, brushing aside the blades of grass blocking the way. The crack was just wide enough for her index finger to fit inside.

She felt around for a few moments before her fingertip made contact with some small scrap of fabric. It took a few curls of her finger to pry it loose from whatever it had been caught on, but when she removed her forefinger from the crack, it carried with it a dirty, faded white material that covered maybe half of its tip.

Callie recognized it immediately.

It was a torn piece of the shirt Duncan had been wearing the night he first confronted her. She just stared at it for a while, not moving, not even blinking. Then, she turned her gaze just beyond it to the crack below.

This is it, Callie confirmed. This is where he gave up.

A quiet meow pulled her from her thoughts. She looked to her left to see a gray cat approaching. It was Bailey, probably coming to see if the kind college girl who left her food had anything yummy for her today. The cat rubbed its face against Callie’s shin, purring happily without a care in the world.

Callie nudged the cat away with her left hand.

“Get outta here!” she hissed.

Bailey didn’t get the message, however, and went right back to loving on Callie’s shin. Callie stood up and lightly brushed the cat away with her left foot.

“I SAID GO THE FUCK AWAY!” Callie screamed at the cat, who quickly ran off.

She watched Bailey run around the nearest corner of the house, a hateful scowl fixed on her face. It was then that she noticed how quiet it had become. She turned toward the sidewalk and saw five people frozen in place staring back at her, confusion written on each of their faces.

Unsure what else to do, Callie took off running herself, sprinting away from her baffled audience toward campus. The wind in her face slightly stung her watery eyes. She had cried more in the past month than she could remember crying in her entire life prior.

Once she arrived on campus, she collapsed onto the first bench she saw. She glanced down at her right hand and noticed that the shirt scrap was still clutched within her fingers. Raising it up to eye level, she softly rubbed it between her index finger and thumb

Callie asked herself why she was acting this way. She knew Bailey wasn’t being malicious back when she attacked Duncan; she was just being a cat. And yet Callie found herself hating her cute furry friend.

That’s not all, either. She realized that she never even gave Ada a chance to explain herself. Sure it looked bad when she walked in on … whatever that was, and she hadn’t known Ada all that long, but she still could have at least listened to what Ada had to say before shoving her down.

I … I pushed her so hard, Callie thought to herself. I don’t do stuff like that. Like, ever. So why now?

Even all the stressing out she had been doing for the past week was out of the ordinary. She was always so laid back and easygoing. It was how she got through so much of the shit in her life. It’s so much easier just to bury it and smile like everything was fine.

So why couldn’t she do that now?

Because none of those things were about her. Everyone else in Callie’s life seemed so … perfect, up until she met Duncan. She never had to worry about any of them, and they never chose to worry about her, it seemed. So it was different when she saw Duncan suffer.

And now she was just supposed to act like she was just fine with the person she loved pretending that his life wasn’t as valuable just because he was small?! Didn’t he understand how much he meant to her? How could that idiot think that she—

Wait. That was it, wasn’t it? It had been right in front of her the whole time, and she just couldn’t see it.

Until now.

“I love him,” Callie blurted out. “I’m in love with Duncan!”

Verbalizing it felt so good! It made her so happy! She was still worried about Duncan and his fucked up outlook on his life, but suddenly it didn’t weigh on her quite as much. It didn’t matter what he had been through or how it had affected him; she was going to help the man she loved through it.

Callie pushed herself off the bench and made her way to Ada’s dorm, a newfound confidence visible in her steps.

********

Ada laid on her bed, sobbing into the face of Captain Mal Reynolds as she dried her eyes with her bedspread.

She couldn’t understand how she had screwed things up so badly. She had thought she’d finally found some friends in Duncan and Callie and even had hopes of turning things around with Monica and Alyssia. Now everyone hates her. There was a time when Ada felt as though that would be better than nobody caring about her at all, like she was so used to.

But she was wrong.

This was so much worse. Ada never realized how painful it could feel to have people she genuinely liked feel so much disdain for her. All she wanted was to make them happy, to laugh and joke around with them, have a good time instead of burying herself in textbooks all the time.

But instead, she had to go and accidentally hurt Duncan and—

A knock at her door grabbed Ada’s attention. She wiped her eyes with her right wrist as she got off the bed and made her way to the door. She took a few deliberate breaths to calm herself down before turning the knob and opening the door.

She was shocked to see Callie waiting for her on the other side.

“Um, hi,” Callie said awkwardly.

Ada struggled to find words. As she looked up at the towering blonde, she remembered how forceful Callie had been with her maybe an hour or two before. Ada was terrified, to say the least.

“I, uh, I wanted to bring you your glasses back,” Callie said, holding out her right hand, which was gripping the frame of the glasses. “And, like, I was hoping that I could apologize.”

Ada still didn’t speak, but she reached out and took the glasses from Callie, putting them back on.

“I understand if you don’t wanna see me, though,” Callie continued, lowering her head.

Something about the way Callie spoke touched Ada. She ignored her fear, not wanting to push away her friend.

“No, please, come in,” Ada said. “I’d like to talk about what happened, too.”

She stepped aside as Callie made her way into the dorm room, flashing Ada a warm smile in thanks. As the two girls walked toward Ada’s bed, Callie looked around the room, eyeing the posters and models decorating the walls and desk, respectively.

“This stuff is so cool,” Callie said, slightly awed by the overwhelming display of science fiction.

The declaration caught Ada off guard.

“You don’t think it’s all weird or dorky?” she asked.

The two girls sat down, Callie at the foot of the bed and Ada at the chair at her desk, turning it around to face her guest.

“Not at all,” Callie answered. “I’ve always been kind of interested in this stuff, but it was never very popular where I grew up, especially for girls. So I never really had a chance to get into any of it.”

Ada’s face lit up.

“That sucks, but it’s never too late to start!” she explained. “Maybe we could watch something together sometime, see how you like it?”

Callie’s smile got a little bigger.

“Sounds fun,” she said, a frown slowly overtaking her lips. “Although, I’m surprised you still wanna talk to me after what I did.”

Ada didn’t say anything as she was reminded of how scary the girl sitting across from her had been during the incident. She didn’t know how to feel. Part of her wanted to be mad at Callie. Another part wanted to forgive Callie before the girl even had a chance to apologize.

“I’m really sorry,” Callie said. “That’s not me. I just saw Duncan like that, and I thought …”

As Callie trailed off, Ada finally realized why the blonde bombshell had been so angry with her. Of course Callie thought Ada was attacking Duncan. It’s the most natural conclusion to draw based on when Callie walked in on them.

Ada had been so wrapped up in trying to figure out how she had hurt Duncan, that she never took the time to realize how the situation looked to Callie.

“You thought I did it on purpose,” Ada said. “You were just trying to protect Duncan.”

Callie nodded shyly.

“That’s totally understandable,” Ada said. “But I swear I didn’t. I was just trying to make up for …”

She stopped, realizing her mistake. Duncan had lied because he knew how his friends would handle the truth about what happened during his time in her room. Monica and Alyssia both knew the truth, and they hated her. Ada already thought Callie hated her before; she wasn’t sure if she could take it if they went through this apology only for Callie to hate her for real.

“I wasn’t going to ask about what really happened between you two,” Callie said. “Duncan lied for you, so it probably wasn’t good, but that means he trusts you, so I trust you, too.”

Ada’s jaw dropped.

“You knew we were lying the whole time?!” she asked.

Callie smirked at the question.

“I can always tell when Duncan’s lying,” she said. “The first time Monica first came to the apartment, my parents called, and I had to leave Duncan and her alone for a minute. When I came back, I caught ‘em doing some foot fetish thing, I’m pretty sure.”

Callie’s smirk morphed into a grin.

“They were embarrassed as fuck!” she said. “I kinda wanted to tease ‘em, just a little, but I let ‘em off the hook. Because that’s what friends do.”

Callie patted a spot on the bed beside her with her right hand. Ada wordlessly obeyed, leaving her chair and sitting down next to her.

“I know you didn’t mean to do what you did,” Callie said, looking Ada square in the eye. “But I need to understand why. So, please, can you tell me everything?”

Ada lost herself in those gorgeous hazel eyes. Even if she had wanted to say no, she wouldn’t have been able to. But, nervous as she was, she wanted to tell Callie the truth, to finally unburden herself.

And so she did.

********

“So you decided to ‘help’ him get the semen sample as a way to make up for accidentally makin’ him your slave?” Callie asked. “That about sum it up?”

Callie noticed Ada’s right hand fidgeting with the right temple of her glasses.

“Well yeah, I figured since I felt … him when he was in my mouth that he would like it, like me, maybe,” Ada replied. “A-and I made sure there was nothing going on between you two before I started playing with him.”

Nothing going on between them? Callie quickly became fixated on what Ada meant by that.

“Made sure how, exactly?” Callie questioned.

She tried as hard as she could to keep the edge out of her voice, but based on the anxious look Ada was giving her, she could tell that her effort wasn’t enough.

“I just asked him,” Ada explained. “He laughed and said it would never happen.”

He laughed? Callie asked herself. Of course he did. It was stupid to think he’d feel the same as me.

She knew that she had been leaning on Duncan throughout the short time that they had known each other. Of course he wouldn’t see someone who couldn’t stand on her own two feet as girlfriend material. The man survived six months in the great outdoors at three inches tall, while she struggled with her petty little problems.

I must seem so useless to him, Callie thought.

“Um, are you okay?” Ada asked.

Callie shook off her self-pity for the time being. There would be time for that later.

Right now, she needed to help Ada.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Callie said. “But listen, don’t sweat the whole slavery thing. Duncan’s right; it wasn’t your fault.”

Ada shot her a quizzical look.

“I know Duncan may seem like he’s got his shit together when you first meet him, but he’s actually, like, a serious mess,” Callie explained. “At first, I thought he was just too macho to admit it or ask for help, but lately I’ve started thinkin’ that maybe he doesn’t know just how messed up he is or how much help he needs.”

Her thoughts started to drift, leading to an uncomfortable silence between the two girls.

“Oh, um, what I was tryin’ to say is that Duncan bein’ so paranoid of you wasn’t because of anything you did; that’s just the way he is right now,” Callie said. “And I don’t blame you for tryin’ to make a move on him, either, but maybe next time say something to whoever you try that stuff with.”

Ada’s eyes went wide.

“They never ask first on Porn Hub,” she said innocently.

Callie opened her mouth to say … something in response, but a giggle came out instead. The laughter was contagious, as it infected Ada as well. Soon the two girls were both lying on the bed, facing each other and holding their stomachs from the overabundance of much-needed laughter for the both of them.

“Hey, I’ve been afraid to ask, but is Duncan alright?” Ada asked once the laughter died down. “I’m assuming that I couldn’t have hurt him too badly if you haven’t said anything by now.”

Callie furled her brow in confusion.

“What?” she asked.

Ada continued on as if she hadn’t heard the question.

“I thought I was being so careful, too,” she said. “I still don’t even know what I hurt on him, but it wasn’t too bad, right?”

It was then that Callie realized that Ada hadn’t fully comprehended what had happened.

“Ada, he wasn’t screamin’ because you hurt him,” she began slowly. “He was screamin’ because someone else did that to him … against his will.”

Ada sat up abruptly, a distant look in her eye.

“No,” she said. “That can’t be right. Who … who would do something like that to him?!”

Callie sat up to match Ada.

“His ex, I’m pretty sure,” Callie explained. “The first night he slept in my room, he had a night terror about it, and I was able to figure out what he was dreaming about as I tried to calm him down. And every night since then, he’s had nightmares about it.”

Callie looked away and sighed.

“I’ve been stayin’ up later than him or pretendin’ to go to sleep so I could rub his back and sing to him before they got too bad,” she said. “It calms him down, but I’ve heard him mumble more details each time. What you were doin’ looked a lot like what he was sayin’. That’s why I lost it on you like that.”

Callie looked back at Ada, tears running down the black-haired girl’s cheeks as she stared back at her.

“I … I did that to him?” Ada asked, more to herself than to Callie. “How could I not notice before? He had to be showing signs. I just ...missed them. Oh my God, how could I do that to him?! How could ...How could …”

Ada’s line of self-questioning devolved into wordless sobs. Callie reached out with both arms and pulled the crying girl into her body in a tight hug, Ada taking her glasses off just before her face was buried into the top of Callie’s right breast, partially exposed by the low cut of the taller girl’s stylish yellow shirt.

After a few minutes of tears, the sobbing stopped and Ada raised her head, making direct eye contact with Callie, who chose to ignore the moisture soaking into her shirt for the time being.

“How am I going to work with him now?” Ada asked. “I’m supposed to help him regain his size, and now he thinks I’m some heartless monster.”

A sad smile made its way across Callie’s lips.

“He doesn’t,” she said. “He defended you once he calmed down. Blamed himself for it, actually. He said you’d have stopped if you’d known, but he just, like, froze and couldn’t tell you. Like I said before, messed up and doesn’t even know it.”

Ada put her glasses back on, lip pursed in thought.

“So how do we unmess him up?” she asked. “Can’t we just talk to him about the stuff that’s bothering him, like what his ex did?”

Callie was quick to reject the idea.

“There’s no way,” she said. “He never even told me about it. I probably shouldn’t have told you, honestly, but I figured you should know in case he acts a little off around you for a while. Besides, it’s been eatin’ me up for weeks, and it felt kinda nice lettin’ it out for once.”

Callie couldn’t help but find it a bit cute as Ada’s face scrunched up in frustration.

“Why can’t everyone just say what’s on their mind instead of making us have to figure it out?” Ada asked. “People suck. Oh wait! I didn’t mean you! Or Duncan. Or actual people at all, really. I just—”

Callie interrupted Ada’s rant with a soft chuckle.

“Nah, I’m with ya on that one,” Callie said. “If people could just ask for help when they needed it, life would be lots easier.”

From the excited expression Ada wore, Callie knew that her words had sparked an idea in the other girl’s mind.

“Maybe that’s what we do then,” Ada explained. “If he can’t ask for help, we ask for him. Not the big stuff, since he wants to keep those to himself, but we just start asking when he’s having smaller emotional issues and maybe that will build up to the bigger ones when he’s ready.”

The two girls continued to exchange ideas and plan out ways to help their little friend for the better part of an hour before Callie left the dorm room and started the trek back to her apartment.

********

Duncan continued to stare down at the bucket-sized container at his feet, as he had since moving back to the end table shortly after Callie left.

His initial thought had been to just “produce” the semen sample himself and put the incident with Ada behind him. However, he couldn’t even bring himself to pull his shorts and boxers down. Just the thought of ejaculating was enough to fill him with dread and guilt.

“Hey Duncan!” Callie called out as she quietly stepped into the room.

Duncan waved as he finally looked up from the container. Breaking him from his thoughts was the realization that his giant roommate had made it through the apartment door and down the hall without him hearing or feeling her steps. He was really impressed with how good she was getting at that!

“Whatcha doin’ over there?” Callie asked.

Duncan kept his eyes locked on her large form as she walked over to the end table, finally feeling a slight tremble beneath his feet during his last couple steps.

“I was just trying to get this semen sample out of the way,” he explained. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Callie gave him a funny look.

“I’ve been gone for, like, two hours,” she said. “Have you … been standing there this whole time?”

Duncan turned his gaze away from Callie and back to the container.

“Yeah,” he said numbly. “It’s just … I haven’t gotten off since …”

Duncan couldn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t find it in him to tell anyone about what happened. Pathetic, just like he said before.

“Oh, I see,” Callie responded. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

It does? Duncan asked himself. How could it make sense to her? How could it make sense to anyone?! Unless she …

“Well, d-do you, uh …” Callie stammered before rushing it out all at once. “Do you want any help?”

Duncan could feel his eyes widening as he turned to her, looking straight ahead in her direction, his gaze level with her denim-covered knee cap.

“Um, don’t worry about it,” Callie said, taking a step back. “It was stupid of me to ask. I don’t know what I wa—”

“Yes.”

Duncan wasn’t sure if it was because he actually wanted the help or because he couldn’t stand to see his friend keep putting herself down like that, but with a single word, he was prepared to face his fear.

“Yeah?” Callie asked. “You sure?”

This time Duncan just nodded without words, unsure if he had the courage to verbalize his answer a second time.

“Okay then,” Callie said, looking even more nervous than before. “Do you wanna take your clothes off, then?”

Without thinking to acknowledge the question, Duncan took off his shirt first. As he let his shorts fall down his legs, he looked up to see Callie watching him with an odd, but not unpleasant smile on her face. He found comfort in that smile as he pushed down his boxer shorts.

“Now here,” she said as she laid her hand next to him, palm side up. “If you still wanna do this, just step into my hand. If not, it’s cool, so don’t worry about that.”

Duncan hesitated at first. After standing there just looking at the inviting palm in front of him for several seconds, he glanced back up to Callie’s face, concerned that his hesitation might have upset or annoyed her or even left her worried that he didn’t trust her. But that comforting smile had never left her face.

He stepped into her hand.

Duncan expected Callie to tell him to lay down, to feel himself squeezed between her fingers and palm like with Ada earlier. Instead, she merely turned her hips and lowered her hand near the top-center of her bed, between her two pillows. She waited patiently as he slowly moved from the hand onto the bedspread.

“Lie down,” she said, her voice picking up a sultry quality.

Duncan did as he was told, lying down on his back with his head situated between the two pillows and his feet pointed toward the foot of the bed. Without warning, Callie jumped onto the bed, landing on her hands and knees directly in front of him, the impact of her landing being enough to throw him slightly into the air and land on his stomach.

“Sorry,” Callie giggled. “I just kinda had to, ya know?”

Before Duncan could turn around, he felt the index and middle fingers of her right hand touch down on his right side. With a nudge, they flipped him onto his back once again. Her head was directly above him, a quaint blend of amusement and concern on her face. He could see the relief on her face as he smiled back at her.

“Go ahead and spread your legs a little,” Callie instructed.

As Duncan did so, she lowered herself onto her stomach, leaving her pretty face hovering just above his nude form, those hazel eyes studying him with eager interest. Looking to either side of it, he could just make out her shins towering skyward, crossed at the ankles and lazily swaying up and down.

“Now, let’s get you warmed up,” Callie said. “And if you wanna stop at any time, I’ll be watchin’, so just try and give me a sign.”

Then, her head dove toward Duncan. She opened her mouth just enough for her tongue to pass her lips. He felt the wet, slick muscle start at his ball sack. She slowly, ever so slowly, dragged the body of her tongue up over his penis, its taste buds massaging his already-hardening shaft, the tip trailing behind to lap at everything one last time.

Callie’s tongue didn’t stop there, however. It slithered across his rock hard abs and over his chest, leaving behind a filmy trail of saliva in its wake. As she tilted her chin up to end the lick, she gently flicked the tip of her tongue over his face. He noticed that the lighter layer of spit pleasantly smelled of wintergreen.

She stared Duncan dead in the eye as her tongue slowly retreated behind those luscious lips of hers. She moaned through her closed mouth, seemingly enjoying his taste. He felt himself getting harder.

“Damn!” Callie said as her eyes trailed down his body, stopping on his erection. “I didn’t think only one lick would do the job. Mind if I get one more in?”

Just one?! Duncan thought in a haze before nodding.

Callie laughed at his reaction, then went in for another taste. This time she led with the tip of her tongue, lightly massaging his balls with light swirls before lapping at his stiffened cock a few times. The tip then jumped to the top of his chest working its way backward at a snail’s pace in a “C” pattern.

She finished the lick by pressing her lips down her tongue to the middle of Duncan’s torso, slightly sucking on his skin. Pulling her head up just a tiny bit, she lifted him off the ground with the suction of her mouth. She moaned again, this time the sound wave reverberated through his body, giving him a sense of pleasure he didn’t know existed.

Callie stopped sucking and let him softly fall back onto the bedspread.

“There,” she said. “I’d say you’re ready now.”

Still in a blissful daze, Duncan felt Callie’s hand slip under him before he saw it. By the time he realized that he was rising, she was already sitting cross-legged on the bed, holding him at chest level in her open palm. He had a perfect view of the cleavage provided by her low-cut shirt.

“Remember,” she said. “If you wanna end this at any time, that’s cool. If you can’t tell me you wanna stop, I’ll be lookin’ for anything, so do what you can to let me know, kay?”

Duncan nodded and braced himself for Callie’s grip to come. But it never did. She left him there, lying entirely against the width of her left palm with room to spare and nothing but open space on either side.

Her right forefinger and thumb came for his manhood next. They gently gripped his hard dick and stroked upward in unison, tugging at it slightly along the way. Even though the pads of her fingers swallowed his member entirely, she used the very tips, just at the base of her fingernails, to give every part of it attention.

Callie repeated this motion a few times, almost reminding Duncan of a skilled master plucking the strings of a harp with pinpoint precision. The feel of the ripples of her fingerprints felt divine on his cock, and the slight pressure from the tugging was an incredible feeling as well.

Then she stopped and pointed at her cleavage.

“If you need something to look at to keep you in the mood, look right here,” Callie said. “It’s okay. I like it.”

The forefinger and thumb returned and began to rub against each other, with his fully erect penis sandwiched in between. Duncan stared at her breasts as they bounced slightly from the movement of her right hand, the narrow ravine between them dancing enticingly to compete for his attention.

But as he could feel himself getting close, he started to think about Kristie once again, her image serving as a mental block that had denied him release for months now. He could feel his breathing starting to become erratic and panic starting to swell within him.

But this time, he didn’t feel paralyzed by fear. As he moaned in pleasure, it wasn’t involuntary this time. With a new sense of determination, he took a couple deep breaths and pushed the thought of his ex from his mind. She wasn’t going to deny him this time. He wouldn’t let her win.

As these thoughts came to mind, he found his eyes rising to meet Callie’s. He found new strength in the warmth they radiated, as well as the hopeful smile her lips were wearing. It was then that another feeling was rising inside his heart.

No, don’t do it to yourself, Duncan, he told himself. Don’t want what you can’t have.

But it was already too late. He already knew that he loved Callie Voss. He had known for a while, but he just couldn’t deny it any longer. And accepting it gave him a feeling he had never truly felt before, and he didn’t know how to handle it, honestly.

In more ways than one.

That moment of clarity brought with it a new intensity to Callie’s every touch as those magical fingertips took Duncan to new levels of rapture. He felt so much closer to her than he had before, emotionally and, certainly, physically, and that connection made every caress of playfully fondling digits against his member so immense, so overwhelming, so incomprehensibly satisfying.

It all quickly became too much for him, and he exploded in what was the longest, most gratifying orgasm of his life.

As the head of his penis leaked more and more cum, Duncan noticed Callie’s thumb and forefinger, the very ones that helped him finally overcome the trauma of his rape, at least for the moment, were holding the small container meant for his semen.

Suddenly, he was filled with shame.

You used her, you selfish fuck, he scolded himself. Even if you could’ve had a shot with her, if she could’ve felt the same way, is this how you wanted to treat her? Fuck you, Duncan!

Duncan turned his head away from Callie as she collected enough of his cum to fill the small marking near the bottom of the container. From the corner of his eye, he could see her expression change from one of happiness to one of concern, concern that he didn’t deserve.

She opened her mouth to speak, but a knock on the apartment door interrupted them.

********

Callie wasn’t sure what happened.

As she walked down the hallway to answer the door, she replayed the last few minutes in her mind. Everything had gone perfectly. Granted, she wasn’t sure if that was exactly what Ada meant when she mentioned helping Duncan with emotional issues, but she really felt like she’d made a breakthrough with him.

There were a couple of moments when Callie thought he was going to wave her off, but he went through with it. So much cum for such a little guy, too. And those faces he made! She had seen some guys make some weird expressions during sex, but his were just so adorable! Her heart almost burst at the look he made when he got off!

But then Duncan’s mood changed. He wouldn’t even look at her. She didn’t know if she did something wrong or if maybe he was regretting letting her help him like that or what if he—

No, Callie told herself as she gripped the knob to the apartment door. I’m just going to shoo away whoever’s at the door, and then I’m gonna sit down and talk this out with him, tell him how I feel, all of it.

She opened the door to find nobody waiting for her. She stuck her head through the doorway and checked in both directions, only finding the empty walkway to either side and the purplish sky from the setting sun straight ahead. Taking a step out to investigate further, her right foot accidentally kicked a white delivery box sitting on the ground in front of her, almost tipping it over.

“What’s this?” Callie asked.

The box was in her hands almost immediately. She was curious what could be inside, as she didn’t remember ordering anything. A quick look at the top of the box confirmed that her memory was right.

It also made her blood run cold.

There was no label or return address there. No postal markings of any kind, in fact. There were just two words written on the box in black marker:

To Duncan

Only three other people in the world knew that Duncan was living with her, and none of them would do this. Monica, Alyssia, and Ada would have all at least said hello before leaving and most likely have stayed to chat for a bit. This couldn’t have been from any of them.

So then who left it there?

Callie stepped back inside the apartment, kicking the door closed with her foot as she didn’t break her stride toward the kitchen table. She set the box down there and went to her room to get Duncan, who, it turned out, also had no idea who could have left the box on their doorstep.

Once they were back in the kitchen, she put him down next to the box.

“Open it,” Duncan said.

Feeling breathless with anxiety, Callie could only nod in response. She cautiously started to peel back the tape holding the box closed. Soon she was able to pry the top flaps of the box open without effort. She looked into the box and gasped.

“What is it?” Duncan asked. “Some of us aren’t tall enough to see.”

At first, Callie couldn’t say anything, his attempt at humor not registering with her. She just stared down into the inside of the box, her eyes trailing down the softly padded walls inside. And there, at the bottom, huddled in the corner furthest from Callie on Duncan’s side, was a feminine figure with black hair, roughly Duncan’s size.

“It’s a girl,” she said to herself as much as to Duncan.

The girl was sitting with her knees fully bent, her arms crossed over them. Her face was buried in them. She was wearing casual clothes, jeans and a t-shirt, but Callie couldn’t tell much else with her curled up like that.

Callie looked over to Duncan, who, despite his shocked face, gave her a reassuring nod to proceed.

“Miss?” she called down. “You okay?”

Callie could only hear whimpers in response. The girl didn’t otherwise acknowledge her.

“Do you want me to get you out of there?” Callie asked as sweetly as she could. “You’re gonna be okay. Promise.”

She started to reach into the box, and the tiny girl’s reaction was immediate. The girl started screaming and kicking her feet wildly at the ground, trying to back her way through the corner, it would seem. Callie quickly pulled her hand out.

“Sorry!” Callie said, cringing. “I’ll try to find another way to get you out.”

Duncan waved to get her attention. The two of them spent the next few minutes brainstorming ideas until they finally came up with one they both liked.

“Uh, miss?” Callie said. “I don’t know if you heard any of that, but we’re gonna tip the box on its side so you can get out on your own. You don’t even have to move; I’ll just tip it your way. You okay with that?”

The girl didn’t speak but nodded, still hiding her face in her arms as she sobbed.

Callie slowly started tipping the box toward Duncan. Even though Callie was trying to be gentle, the girl did tumble a little as the wall to her back started to become her new floor. Once the box was tipped, Callie looked to Duncan, who was waiting to greet their new guest.

“Wha—” he said as the girl stepped out of the box and onto the table.

Getting her first look at the girl’s face, Callie noticed that she was striking. Those almond eyes were gorgeous and complimented her Korean features quite beautifully. The girl took a step toward Duncan, who took a step back to match. The look on his face was a blend of surprise and horror.

Callie was going to ask him what was wrong, but that became abundantly clear when he uttered a single word.

“Kristie?”

Chapter End Notes:

No cats were hurt in the writing of this chapter.

If you have any questions, complaints, or endless, endless praise, please direct your comments to the review box!


Duncan vs. the Ethical Endeavor

Word Count: 11921
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

Okay, so this probably won't come as a huge surprise, but I'm going to go ahead and give another one of those warnings here. I'll admit that I debated it a bit in my head, but yeah, I think it's appropriate here, given what I said this story would be at the start. So the warning is for pretty much everything from the forth segment to the end of the chapter.

Also, at the risk of spoiling future chapters a slight bit in an indirect way, I will say that I don't foresee any future chapters of this story needing a warning like this.

So with that out of the way, here's the chapter.

“D?” Kristie questioned in disbelief as the tears started to dry from her eyes. “D!”

Duncan was caught off guard as his ex-girlfriend excitedly charged right at him. It only took a few strides for her to reach him, and he didn’t have time to react as she nearly tackled him, throwing her arms around him and burying her head in his shoulder.

Muscle memory took over, and he returned the hug before he even realized he was doing it.

“D!” Kristie’s cry was muffled by his collarbone. “I-I figured you were dead.”

She pulled away from his chest, and Duncan swore he saw relief in her eyes. For a split second, he saw her as the sweet and caring, if not a bit misunderstood, girl he asked out in the first place. But then, that kind smile twisted into a look of disdain, and she pushed him away with a deceptively strong two-handed shove in his chest.

“Things have been shit since you left!” Kristie said. “How fucking dare you leave me like that! I needed you, and you weren’t there! How could you do that shit to me?”

Well, if I wasn’t sure it was Kristie before … Duncan mused.

Before Kristie could continue her tirade, a shadow fell over both of them. Duncan looked up, only to find Callie much, much closer than he had been expecting. His roommate’s chin hovered just inches from the tabletop and was positioned right in front of Kristie.

The tiny girl fell on her ass and began to slide backward in fear as the soles of her tiny sneakers pushed against the table’s surface.

“Hold up. Kristie?” Callie asked, ignoring the trembling girl as she glanced over at Duncan. “Like, your ex, Kristie?”

Duncan looked at Kristie then back at Callie, still caught in a daze.

“Yeah,” he said.

Kristie’s butt stopped sliding across the table. She stopped shaking. Her eyes met Duncan, and he recognized the fire behind them.

She was pissed.

“Ex?!” Kristie yelled. “And what do you mean ‘yeah’? Who is this giant bi—”

Her words were silenced as she disappeared behind a wall of supple, feminine flesh as it swiftly descended from the sky. Callie’s fingers scooped under Kristie, trapping the bitty bitch from head to toe inside her right fist. And Duncan had been inside enough giant fists to know there was plenty of room to spare, too.

He watched as Callie lifted her closed hand up to her face, right in front of her eyes, each a resplendent mixture of green and reddish-brown. But those eyes, still as vibrant as the first night he fell under their mesmerizing gaze, now carried an intensity that he wasn’t used to seeing there, although he knew what it meant.

She was pissed, too.

With an agitated frown, Callie shook her fist, her pupils following its every movement. Down below, Duncan could just make out Kristie’s frantic shrieks despite them being dampened by Callie’s hand, as they barely escaped through the tightened cracks between the giantess’s fingers.

After several seconds of shaking, Callie stopped moving her hand. Her long, graceful fingers carefully manipulated her fist’s tiny cargo. Then she brought her left hand under her fist, poking her index finger through the bottom, pushing it deeper and deeper inside.

Soon Kristie’s head and the tops of her shoulders poked out from between her encircled thumb and forefinger. Callie adjusted her hand so that Kristie was facing her upright. Callie’s eyes narrowed as Duncan realized that she was getting her first good look at Kristie’s face.

“What the fu …” Kristie started to yell, but trailed off as she stared into Callie’s angry countenance. “Hey, look, s-sorry about yelling before. Maybe you can put me down and we can start over?”

Callie didn’t respond. Instead, she stared a hole right through the minuscule woman trapped within her grip. Duncan was starting to worry.

“Come on,” Kristie said, the nervousness in her voice giving way to anxiety. “I don’t know why you’re so mad at me. If D said something to—urgh!”

Duncan could see Callie’s fingers give Kristie’s body a tight squeeze before loosening back up again.

“Don’t say his name!” Callie yelled, causing Kristie to cringe and Duncan to cover his ears. “Especially not that stupid pet name! You don’t deserve it!”

Duncan still hadn’t had enough time to process his feelings about Kristie being tiny and in the apartment. He wasn’t sure how to feel about how Callie, his Callie, was treating his ex. But the venom in her voice as she yelled those words made one thing perfectly clear to him: Callie knows what Kristie did to him.

This is bad, Duncan thought as he looked to see the rage overtaking Kristie’s face. And she’s about to make things a fuck of a lot worse!

“Kristie!” he shouted up to her. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t! Just let shit calm down a minute first!”

Kristie turned to face him, her disheveled shoulder-blade-length hair standing up in all directions.

“Fuck off, D!” she screamed. “Like I give a fuck what a dicklicker like you wants me to do! I’ll say whatever the fuck I please!”

Duncan didn’t even need to look back Callie’s way to know that Kristie had, indeed, made things a fuck of a lot worse. But he looked anyway, and the pure disdain, the fury Callie wore in her expression filled him with dread. It was clear to him that she was about to do something she was going to regret long afterward.

Callie’s lips curled into a snarl as he once again saw her fingers twitch slightly, a sign that she was tightening her grip on his ex. Kristie grunted and tried to speak, but with the oxygen already squeezed from her lungs, she couldn’t get whatever words she wanted to say to come out.

“Callie,” Duncan said, “I think she gets the point now.”

But Callie didn’t respond. Instead, he could only watch as her fingers curled even tighter. Any defiance that had been remaining on Kristie’s face was now gone, replaced by panic and desperation. A small crack filled his ears, and he was only left to guess whether it was one of Callie’s knuckles or Kristie’s ribs that made the noise.

“Hey, come on,” Duncan added some urgency to his voice. “Callie, that’s enough!”

The look in Callie’s eyes was distant, and he wasn’t sure if she was even fully aware of what it was she was about to do. He continued to yell for her to stop, but she either was either zoned out or just flat out ignoring him.

Duncan had to stop her. He’d already done enough to this poor girl. He couldn’t let her seriously hurt or even … kill Kristie, and certainly not for his sake. She’d never forgive herself. He wouldn’t let her do this, even if that meant redirecting her anger.

Even as pissed as she is, whatever she’ll do to me won’t be near as bad as what she’s about to do right now, he decided. I’ll be fine. Whatever happens next, I’ve probably got coming anyway.

Kristie’s face was starting to turn purple. If Duncan was going to act, now was the time.

He sprinted to Callie’s left hand, which was lying palm-down on the table. With only the slightest of hesitation, he bent down and bit the top of her hand, right below the knuckle of her forefinger. Callie quickly pulled her hand away, the force of the movement knocking him over and rolling him a few inches across the tabletop.

“Ow!” she yelled. “What the hell, Duncan?”

Duncan wasted no time in standing up. He glanced up at Kristie and could see the proper color returning to her face. Callie had loosened her grip for the time being.

“Put her down!” he said as loudly as he could.

Callie’s eyes widened as her gaze shifted between Duncan and Kristie.

“But she …” she said, struggling to find the right words. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna ...”

Duncan hated seeing lose her confidence like that, but he knew he couldn’t back down.

“Now!” he said at the same volume, pointing down with his right hand.

Callie’s hand carefully lowered down to the table, and she released Kristie from her fist. Duncan’s ex fell to her knees as she greedily sucked in as much oxygen as she could, her left hand pushing off against the tabletop for balance.

Duncan stared at Kristie for a minute, not wanting to turn his attention back to his giant, furious roommate just yet. Letting out a deep sigh and reminding himself that he asked for whatever was coming next, he craned his neck to accept Callie’s anger and whatever consequences were sure to come with it.

Only there was no anger there. Those hypnotic hazel eyes shined only with concern.

“You okay?” Callie asked. “Jesus, I can’t believe I just, like, hit you like that! I’m so sorry!”

To say Duncan was stunned would be an understatement. He had just bitten his roommate and ordered her around, and not only was she not angry, but she was apologizing to him!

“Uh, yeah, I’m good, and don’t worry about it,” he said. “What about you? Sorry I bit you like that.”

Callie shook her head.

“No, you did the right thing,” she said, looking off to the side.

Callie continued to avoid looking in Duncan’s direction. He decided there wasn’t much he could say to her at the moment, so he went over to check on Kristie. His ex-girlfriend was staring up at Callie, pure hatred in her eyes, but she at least seemed smart enough to not verbalize her anger this time.

“Hey Callie,” he called to her as he grabbed Kristie by the left shoulder and helped her stand. “I think we should call the others and see if they can come over. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Callie only peeked in his direction long enough to give an agreeing nod before she stood up from the table and walked toward the living room as she pulled her phone from her pocket. Kristie’s eyes never left Callie, as she didn’t even acknowledge Duncan’s presence, let alone his words.

He moved away from Kristie, heading over to the box from which she came. Putting his hand on the closest outer wall, he finally began to try and process what her arrival really meant for him and his friends.

********

As Callie took her seat back at the card table sitting in the middle of her kitchen, she stared down at the barely noticeable red mark on the top of her left hand.

It hurt so much, but not in the spot that Duncan had bitten. That little tingle went away almost immediately after his teeth left her skin. No, it was her heart that was in pain as her eyes stayed affixed on the tiny bite mark.

He really thought I was going to hurt her, maybe worse, Callie thought as she replayed the moment in her mind. Was … was he right?

She had been struggling to answer that question from the moment she had set Kristie back on the table. From the corner of her eye, Callie could see Kristie talking with Duncan by the shrunken girl’s box. Callie hated her so much. It was an intense hatred, one she had never felt before, not even for that creep Stillwell.

But that didn’t mean Callie would hurt her, right? Focusing back on her left hand, just below the knuckle of her pointer finger, she wasn’t so sure.

It wasn’t even Kristie’s harsh demeanor or general bad attitude that had set Callie off. It was the way she spoke to Duncan, like she hadn’t abused him, destroyed him from the inside. To Kristie, the trauma she caused him was nothing. She should have been begging him for forgiveness. Instead, she was pushing him and flinging insults his way.

As she shifted her full attention to the two tinies talking on the table, Callie felt even worse. He hugged Kristie when she got out of the box. Sure Kristie initiated, but he returned it. Did he save Kristie because he still has feelings for her? Sexual abuse victims can sometimes become attached to their abuser, after all.

Or … or is it possible that, despite everything, Duncan has actually forgiven Kristie? Did Callie’s own actions drive him to it? What if he is giving her a

“Hey Cal,” Alyssia said to Callie from across the table. “Are you doing alright? You seem kind of distracted.”

Callie looked up to see Alyssia, Monica, and Ada all watching her with concern as they sat around the table, with Monica and Ada sitting to Callie’s right and left, respectively. Alyssia’s question had also grabbed the attention of the two tinies, with Duncan gazing up at Callie curiously and Kristie scowling at the giant blonde.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Callie said unconvincingly. “This is just a lot to take in, ya know?”

All four women glanced down at the little people, focusing mostly on Kristie. The tiny woman looked around timidly as the giants at the table all frowned at her. Callie hated herself for smirking at Kristie’s discomfort.

“That’s an understandable sentiment,” Monica said. “But perhaps we should begin?”

Everyone, regardless of size, nodded in response, even Kristie.

“So Kristie,” Duncan started, “are you finally ready to tell us how you ended up in that box?”

Kristie answered with a derisive snort.

“Why should I?” she asked. “At least three of the people at this table want to kill me, probably because of some bullshit you told them.”

Before Duncan could respond, Callie noticed a dark shadow overtake both tinies as Alyssia’s right hand approached them from above. It settled directly in front of Kristie with her index finger curled and tucked into her thumb in an “okay” sign.

“Kill you? Of course not. Fuck with you?” Alyssia said with a Cheshire cat grin. “Please give me a reason. It’s fun giving Duncan a hard time now and then, but to give a stuck-up bitch like you what she actually has coming?”

She flicked her index finger off her thumb and straight ahead. The rapidly advancing digit shot up with surprising speed, coming within an inch of its white-painted nail smashing into Kristie’s chin. The miniature malcontent squeaked in fear as she tripped over her own feet and fell backward.

“Hey!” Duncan yelled. “What the fuck, Aly?!”

Callie felt her heart sink as Duncan once again came to Kristie’s aid.

“Come on, Duncan,” Alyssia answered, withdrawing her hand as he stepped between it and Kristie. “Even if she hadn’t put you in a fucking cage, she’d still deserve this! Remember when you brought her to the office Christmas party last year and she spread that rumor around to all the brokers that I was a ‘high-profile prostitute’ on the weekends? My phone rang nonstop every weekend for a month, and some of the guys in the office still give me creepy-ass looks!”

Still on the ground, Kristie started laughing hysterically as Alyssia recalled the prank.

“That’s enough!” Monica growled as she slammed her fist onto the table, the resulting quake throwing Duncan to the ground as well. “Am I the only one here with any sense of how serious this situation has become?”

Callie started to reach over to help Duncan up, but Alyssia, being closer, beat the blonde to it. The brunette secretary slipped her right index and middle fingers behind his back as she gently pushed him back to his feet, narrowing her eyes angrily at Kristie the whole time.

“Serious in what way?” Ada asked.

The lab tech had lifted her eyes from her lap for the first time since sitting at the table, looking Monica in the eye as she spoke. Callie wasn’t sure if it was the shame of what had happened between Duncan and her earlier in the day or the social anxiety of her being around Alyssia and Monica that made Ada so shy, but she was happy that the black-haired girl’s curiosity outweighed whatever was bothering her.

Callie also made a mental note to talk with Alyssia and Monica about their treatment of Ada later.

“Well, there’s the fact that we now know that this shrinking stuff isn’t random,” Duncan replied first. “Someone shrank Kristie, put her in a box, wrote my name on it, and left it on our doorstep.”

Callie froze at Duncan’s words. She had been so worried about Duncan’s feelings and dealing with her negative feelings about Kristie that she had completely missed the big picture. How could she be so involved in her personal shit that she didn’t stop to realize that someone was out there shrinking people?

“And then there’s the question of how they knew where to leave the package,” Monica chimed in. “Whoever is responsible for this knows where you’re staying. That alone suggests some … unsettling implications.”

That was an even scarier development to Callie. Just how did the person responsible for Kristie’s shrinking know where Duncan is? How long have they known? Is her apartment being spied on? As she glanced down at Duncan, the thought that some psycho was violating their privacy sent a chilling shiver down her spine.

“Exactly,” Duncan followed up on Monica’s words. “And the only person that can give us any sort of clue about any of this is Kristie. So maybe don’t try to flick her head off?”

He reached down and offered his hand to Kristie. The small Korean girl tilted her head back and made eye contact with Callie, shooting her a wicked sneer. Kristie then took his hand and allowed him to help her up, holding Callie’s gaze the whole time.

“I guess you missed the part where I said I didn’t want to kill her,” Alyssia said. “I hate her guts, but I’m not a monster. Although, if somebody needs to make her talk, I volunteer!”

Duncan ignored her offer, focusing on Kristie.

“Okay, first off, all I told them was that you put me in a cage and didn’t change the bedding. No bullshit there, right?” he asked, to which she frowned and meekly nodded. “Good. Now, I’m guessing you hate being small about as much as I do. Do you really think you’re going to figure this out on your own?”

Even from Callie’s lofty perspective, she could see the frustration written on Kristie’s face.

“Fine,” Kristie said. “I’ll tell you what happened to me.”

Duncan nodded, encouraging her to proceed.

“A couple days after you … left, a woman came to the house,” Kristie began. “She didn’t look like anything special, rolling up to the door in ripped-up jeans and a t-shirt. Oh, and she was a blonde with blue streaks in her hair, so bitch thought she was a rebel or something.”

He didn’t leave, Callie thought in frustration. He escaped, asshole!

“Anyway, she started asking questions about you, so I told her to fuck off and slammed the door in her face,” Kristie continued. “The next day, I came home from work and my door was busted open and my stuff was thrown all over the place. So I called the cops and got the fuck out of there, ended up moving across town as soon as I could. That shit freaked me out.”

She paused for a minute, releasing a forlorn sigh.

“Then, last week, I’m walking into my apartment when something hit me in the back of the head and knocked me out,” Kristie said. “When I woke up, I was tiny and in that box, and that bitch with the blue streaks was staring down at me. She asked me all those questions again, and I told her … everything.”

Everything? Including the rape? Callie had her doubts, but that pause by Kristie made her wonder. And if Kristie did tell this woman everything, then why would she send Duncan his rapist?

“After keeping me in there for the whole week, leaving me food and water, she just waved at me and closed the box,” Kristie explained. “That’s where I was until Goldicunt over there opened the box up.”

Callie wasn’t surprised to see Kristie pointing right at her. A part of her wanted to smack the tiny girl right off the table. Callie buried that feeling down deep; she wouldn’t let Duncan’s ex get her so worked up again.

That’s not who I am, Callie reminded herself.

“And this woman, the one with the blue streaks, she said nothing about how or why she did this?” Monica asked Kristie.

Kristie glared at the executive.

“Oh yeah,” Kristie said sarcastically. “She laid out her whole master plan. I just didn’t think you’d want to know any of the important stuff!”

Monica’s face showed no reaction to Kristie’s taunting, which, Callie noticed, seemed to frighten Kristie more than anything.

“I doubt we’re going to figure much of that out unless we find that woman,” Duncan said. “Right now, I’m more worried about how she knows I’m here.”

Ada looked up and joined the conversation for a second time.

“Do you think they’ve known where you’ve been this whole time?” she asked. “Could they have followed your progress since you escaped from Kristie?”

That suggestion made the gears start turning in Callie’s head.

“What about Natasha?” she asked. “Isn’t it weird that she showed up to help you when you needed it most? What if she’s the girl with the blue streaks?”

Duncan shook his head.

“Can’t be,” he said. “She’s a redhead.”

Kristie glowered at Ada and the two roommates.

“First, D didn’t need to escape. I was taking care of him just fine,” Kristie said. “And who the fuck is Natasha?”

Everyone else at the table ignored Kristie as the conversation continued.

“Just because this Natasha isn’t the girl with the blue streaks doesn’t mean she’s not involved,” Monica said. “There could be more than one person involved, and I too find her timing in your story quite suspicious. I think it might be wise to look into her, just to be sure.”

She looked down at Duncan, who nodded in approval.

“I’ll let you know everything I can about her so she’ll be easier to track down,” he said, pausing afterward. “In the meantime, I … I think I should leave.”

All the women in the room, even Kristie, gasped at Duncan’s declaration.

“Look, seeing what happened to Kristie and knowing that whoever this girl is, she did this because of me, I don’t want that to happen to anybody else,” he said. “She could show up at any time and do this to any of you. It just makes sense if I go back to living on my own; that way she won’t have a reason to shrink any of you.”

Callie’s panic level rose tenfold at Duncan’s suggestion. Her heart started beating faster. She couldn’t accept that he was leaving. A part of her also wondered if he was really leaving to protect them, like he said, or if that served as the perfect excuse to get away from her.

Maybe seeing her treat Kristie so harshly had scared him more than she realized.

“That’s pretty noble of you,” Monica told Duncan. “Incredibly stupid, but noble.”

He gave her a quizzical look.

“Yeah, it’s not like you leaving helped Kristie any,” Alyssia said with a chuckle, drawing Kristie’s ire once again. “Why would you think it would help us?”

Callie realized that they were right. She decided to speak up as well, looking to gauge Duncan’s reaction for a sign that he actually wanted to stay with her.

“Yeah, if the girl with the blue streaks wants to shrink, she’s going to, even if you’re not around,” she said. “When our time comes, it comes, right? So why worry about it?”

Callie figured using Duncan’s own words from earlier would be the best way to illustrate the point.

“Right,” he responded in a sullen tone.

Callie frowned. Duncan seemed deflated to have his reason for leaving taken away. Maybe … maybe he really did want to leave.

“Alright then, it sounds like we have a lead to follow and that none of us will be running away,” Monica said, eyeing Duncan, “so I think we’ve gone as far as we can tonight. Do we have any plans for Ms. Cho’s accommodations for the night?”

Duncan turned to face Ada.

“I think she should stay with Ada,” he said. “She doesn’t know Kristie at all, so there’s no hard feelings there.”

Ada quickly shook her head.

“I can’t do it,” she said, glaring down at Kristie. “I do feel hard feelings toward her, and I don’t know if I can trust myself to not act on them.”

Callie glanced Ada’s way to see the girl with glasses give her a resolute nod in solidarity.

Suddenly, Alyssia’s hand shot out, grabbing Kristie by her left ankle and lifting the tiny girl to her face. The secretary bent her wrist back and forth, watching Kristie sway as she dangled in front of the giantess’s deep blue eyes.

“No problem,” Alyssia said. “I can take her. We’ll have lots of fun together!”

Kristie was screaming various obscenities as Alyssia grinned mischievously back at her.

“Jesus, put her down already!” Duncan shouted.

A stunned Alyssia slowly lowered Kristie down to the table, setting her down on her back .

“I know you guys all hate her, but you have no idea what this is like,” Duncan continued. “I’ve been lucky to have you guys around, but I’ve also been around some people who … weren’t as nice, as you all know. I wouldn’t want that for anyone, so please, just leave Kristie alone.”

Those words were a gut punch to Callie. She thought back to her treatment of Kristie and almost cried.

Does Duncan think I’m one of them now? she asked herself.

“Monica, would you mind taking her with you?” Duncan asked.

Kristie stood up and ran to Duncan.

“No! Don’t send me with her, please!” she said.

Monica, in turn, also seemed to be against the idea, shaking her head at the thought.

“Why would you ask me?” she asked.

Duncan looked around the table before coming back to Monica.

“Because I know you won’t treat her like shit if I ask you not to,” he said.

He doesn’t trust me, Callie thought. Not that I can blame him after what I did.

“Okay, she can come with me if she agrees,” Monica said. “And you’re right, I’ll treat her well if that’s what you want.”

Duncan shot her a stern look.

“I mean more than just not hurting her, which I don’t think you’d do anyway,” he said. “Now what I think you would do is put her on a high shelf and leave her there for a while. So I want you to promise me you won’t use your size to fuck with her at all.”

Monica smirked at Duncan.

“You really do know me too well,” she said. “Very well, I can agree to those terms.”

With that settled, the meeting ended and the giants began to disperse. Monica left with a still-complaining Kristie tucked into the right pocket of her business blazer, with a giggling Alyssia leaving right behind her.

“Hey Ada,” Duncan called out before the lab tech stepped away from the table. “Can you stick around for a sec? I’d like to talk to you alone.”

Callie picked up on the hint and excused herself. But as she headed to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder why they needed to talk without her. She obviously already knew about the incident earlier, if that was what they were going to discuss.

Then another thought crossed her mind.

What if Duncan really does like her? she asked herself. Maybe now that he’s over that block, he wants her to try and “get another semen sample” or something.

Callie knew how jumbled all of her thoughts were. She was all over the place. She tried to tell herself that, but her brain just wouldn’t listen. And so, as she closed her bedroom door behind her to give Ada and Duncan their privacy, she continued to cycle through all the reasons why the person she loves would never love her back.

********

Monica’s heels clacked loudly against the Brazilian rosewood flooring as she made her way down the hallway as she headed toward her in-home conference room.

Approaching the mahogany double doors leading to the conference room, she could feel Kristie squirming around in her blazer pocket, the shrunken woman’s struggles gently tickling her hip through her clothing as the tiny was jostled with each step. It brought a smile to her face.

It really is the little things, Monica sighed as she patted the pocket, feeling the outline of its passenger through the material.

She reached out with both hands, each grabbing a golden rustic lever door handle and turning them downward. With a gentle push from each arm, she shoved the doors open, with soft, warm lighting automatically filling the room.

The light revealed the rectangular conference room, which housed a long conference table at its center. The table’s top was a lacquered macassar ebony wood with a stainless steel base in the form of three u-shaped curves near each end and under the middle portion of the table.

As she sauntered into the room, Monica glanced at the walls, which, like the hallway walls, were a rich inky blue. They were decorated with framed cutouts of various newspaper and magazine articles, stories of business takeovers and feature stories about her rise to power. Battle trophies.

Good press was vastly preferred over any award or honorary distinction as far as she was concerned.

She made for the far end of the table, ignoring the 100-inch teleconference screen on the wall on the opposite end of the table and the large, Italian-crafted bookcase lining the short wall facing her, the latter seeing its shelves split between various books and expensive liquors.

Once she reached the end of the table, Monica casually removed her blazer, allowing it to sway slightly in her right hand as she rotated the plush black swivel chair at the head of the table so that the back was facing her, ignoring the barely audible squeaking coming from the blazer pocket all the while.

She hung the blazer on the back of the chair and carelessly swung it so that the front of the chair was facing her. She turned around, sat down, and wiggled in her seat a bit, shifting the seat, as well as the blazer hanging from it, back and forth as she made herself more comfortable.

Monica closed her eyes and savored the miniature complaints from below, which just lightly touched her eardrums. After taking a minute to enjoy herself, she reached into her right pocket and fished the tiny girl from it, taking pleasure in Kristie’s futile efforts to battle against her fingers.

Pulling Kristie out of the pocket, Monica took a second to examine the black-haired tiny, flipping the girl’s puny body between her index finger and thumb as Monica held the girl to her face, again refusing to acknowledge any of the vulgar words Kristie was slinging in her direction.

Once Monica became bored with that, she set Kristie down on the table next to some expensive telecom equipment. Monica leaned back in her seat, reclining slightly as she rested each arm on the appropriate arm rest and crossed her black nylon-covered legs as she stared down at tiny Kristie.

“What the fuck was that?!” Kristie screamed up at Monica. “Not only do you just stuff me in your pocket, but you fucking roller-coaster me around when you take it off, too?”

Monica tried as hard as she could, but she couldn’t stop a smug smirk from crossing her face.

“My apologies,” she replied. “I assumed that you didn’t want to be seen in your current state? Hiding you in my pocket was the most effective method of keeping you hidden. As for the ‘roller-coaster ride,’ you’ll have to forgive me. I simply forgot that you were on my person.”

Monica raised her right eyebrow ever so slightly, signaling a challenge for Kristie to question her explanation. Kristie, however, thought better of it, it seemed, staying quiet and letting herself cool down before speaking again.

“So why are we in here?” Kristie asked.

Lowering her eyebrow, Monica assumed an unreadable expression.

“I thought we might have a little chat,” she explained. “And this is the room in which I conduct all of my business when I’m home.”

Kristie took a nervous step backward, and this time, Monica was able to hold back the grin threatening to overtake her face.

“W-what kind of business?” Kristie questioned.

Monica glanced toward the glass two glass block windows taking in the moonlight while still allowing Kristie and her their privacy during this private meeting.

“Straight to the point, I’d like for you to tell me what happened between Duncan and you before he left,” Monica said, still looking away from the tiny on her table. “The ‘everything’ you told the girl with the blue streaks. That’s what we’re here to discuss.”

Kristie scowled up at Monica.

“I knew you always had a thing for D,” Kristie said. “He never saw it, though. Good thing, too. It would have been way harder to convince him you were just some heartless bitch out to fuck him over if he wasn’t so fucking dense.”

A deep frown forced its way across Monica’s lips as she leaned down toward Kristie.

“What?!” Monica said a little louder than was necessary, causing Kristie to cover her ears in pain.

Kristie began to tremble.

“Hey, r-remember you promised D you wouldn’t do anything to me,” she said in a shaky voice.

With a deep breath, Monica reclined back in her seat and calmed herself. She had always assumed that her own cold demeanor was the reason that Duncan always remained at arm’s length in the office. So to find out that her friendship with him had been sabotaged by Kristie was upsetting to say the least.

“Just so you know, they only thing I had for Duncan was a desire to be his friend,” she told Kristie. “I was never a threat to you. For whatever reason, he was fully dedicated to you until you destroyed that bond yourself.”

Kristie stared daggers at Monica but said nothing.

“Now, as I was saying, you’re going to tell me what you did to Duncan,” Monica said. “I already know about you locking him in a cage, so there’s no need to dwell on that unpleasantness.”

Waving her arms around in an animated fashion, Kristie took a step toward Monica.

“I would have let him out if he would have wanted it!” Kristie yelled, earning a doubting look from Monica. “Okay, yeah, he asked, but he was all weak and polite. I couldn’t take it seriously. If he had stood up and been a man about it, I’d have let him out. Probably.”

Monica narrowed her eyes as she looked down her nose at the tiny girl.

“And making him sleep next to his own feces?” Monica asked.

She could see the frustration mounting on Kristie’s face.

“That bedding was fine!” Kristie said. “I had shit to do. I didn’t have time to clean out D’s cage every five minutes. He wanted me to do that shit every day. Fuck that!”

Shaking her head in judgment, Monica lifted her arms from her chair’s armrests and laid them palms down on either side of Kristie, leaning in so that her head was directly above her miniature guest. Monica’s dark tresses flooded the table as they rained down to Kristie’s left and right, blocking out almost all light.

“I do believe I said I wanted to talk about the things I don’t know about,” Monica said, her breath jostling Kristie’s hair from above. “So out with it. What did you do that compelled Duncan to escape you?”

Monica could tell Kristie was straining her neck to look up at her, and she loved every second of it. She realized that perhaps her doing this could be considered using her size in a way that Duncan didn’t want her to, but that was debatable in her mind.

And she always liked to push the envelope.

“Fine,” Kristie groaned. “So the day before he left, I had just gotten back from a shit day at work, and Duncan was sitting there looking ridiculously hot in that cage, and—”

Monica shook her head, strands of her hair coming just shy of crashing into Kristie.

“Hot?” Monica asked. “You mean to say that you … liked seeing him in that cage?”

Monica’s question was met by a dry chuckle from Kristie.

“Why do you think I put him in there in the first place?” Kristie asked rhetorically. “Anyway, so he was getting me wet and he was whining a bunch, so I figured we could both use a good fuck to take the edge off. I reached in there and grabbed him, walked over to the bed, and took his clothes off.”

Monica pulled her head back, folding her arms right over left directly in front of her on the table and laying her chin on her right forearm.

“But why would Duncan agree to have sex with you after you mistreated him like that?” she asked.

Kristie rubbed the back of neck, wincing a bit, as she was finally able to look straight ahead to talk to her giant hostess.

“He didn’t want to at first,” she explained. “He kept bitching about not wanting to do anything right then, maybe some other time, pretty much any excuse you could think of. He even tried to fight me a little bit, which was kind of cute. And hot. But once I got sick of that, I just laid down the law, told him what was going to happen, and he stopped giving me shit after that.”

An incredulous expression crossed Monica’s face.

“Y-you raped him?” she whispered in disbelief.

Kristie looked offended by the accusation.

“What? No!” she yelled. “He’s my boyfriend. That’s not rape. Sometimes you just have to force things a little, and doing that was a lot easier when he was little. Besides, I even let him blow his load first, so he got off easy as far as I’m concerned. Pun intended, by the way.”

Monica was too stunned to react. She knew from the first time that Duncan had told her his story that Kristie had done something terrible to him, and Kristie more or less confirmed it earlier in the evening. But this? She couldn’t have imagined Kristie going that far. Not only that, but the monster acted like it was nothing! She even joked about it!

“After I made him cum, it was my turn,” Kristie continued. “He tried to weasel his way out of it before I put him inside me, but I wasn’t about to let him leave me hanging!”

Having heard enough, Monica pushed herself up, her thighs bumping into the edge of the table as she stood, knocking Kristie over as a result. Monica picked her hands up from the table and slammed them down again, flanking Kristie on either side. The impact of her hands was enough to flip Kristie over from her knees as the tiny woman was halfway back to her feet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Monica shouted. “How … how could you do that?”

Kristie opened her mouth, but Monica cut her off.

“No,” Monica said, slowly regaining her composure. “I think I’ve heard quite enough from you.”

Monica reached for Kristie, but stopped herself just short of grabbing her. The puny girl curled up in fear as the fingers of Monica’s right hand lingered just over her head. But the businesswoman remembered her promise to Duncan and eventually withdrew her hand.

Still, she wouldn’t let this stand.

“You don’t need to cower,” Monica sighed as she addressed Kristie. “I won’t give you what you deserve. At least, not like this.”

Monica returned to her seat, scooting her chair up to the table. She set her elbows on the tabletop and interlocked her fingers in front of her face, except for her two index fingers, which were perfectly straightened as their tips touched where the bridge of her nose met her forehead, right between her closed eyes.

“I’ve always been partial to ‘an eye for an eye,’” she explained. “The punishment should fit the crime, after all.”

The room was just silent enough that Monica could hear Kristie’s nervous gulp from below.

“Wait, you mean …” Kristie started.

Monica didn’t wait for the little rapist to gather her thoughts, however.

“We’ll skip the part about you ... ‘getting off easy’ is the way you put it, I believe,” Monica interrupted. “I think it would be best if we get right to the part where I ‘put you inside me,’ wouldn’t you agree?”

Kristie, now back on her feet, began to backpedal.

“You can’t!” she screamed. “You told D you wouldn’t use your size to fuck with me!”

Monica responded with a dark chuckle.

“Again with the puns?” she said. “But you’re right. I did tell him that I wouldn’t take advantage of your size to torment you. That’s why you’re going to agree to it.”

Kristie’s confused expression brought a predatory grin to Monica’s face.

“Why the fuck would I ever do that?” Kristie asked.

Monica’s grin grew a little wider.

“Why wouldn’t you?” she asked. “You acted as though it was nothing when you did the same to Duncan, so it seems a small price to pay to put this issue behind us.”

Kristie smirked at Monica’s reasoning.

“Trying to use my own words against me? Is this what you do in the boardroom?” Kristie asked. “All those business types must be really stupid. I’m not going to agree to shit.”

Monica stood up and walked over to a three-drawer filing cabinet sitting next to the bookcase, opened its top drawer, and begin thumbing through files.

“I have several methods of getting what I want out of a negotiation, as you’re about to discover,” she said. “I may have agreed to not take advantage of your size to coerce you, but unfortunately for you, I don’t need to touch you to destroy you.”

Having found the file she was looking for, Monica removed it from the drawer. As she walked back to the table, she opened the manila file folder and began to read the contents within. Without raising her head from the papers, she expertly navigated herself back to her chair and sat back in the seat.

“You see, Ms. Cho, I’ve known that you were going to be a problem for Duncan for some time,” she explained. “And you weren’t entirely wrong about my feelings for your ex-boyfriend. While not romantic, I’ve always respected him. He’s risen through the corporate ranks almost as fast as I did, and he didn’t … dirty himself with some of the tactics I had to use to get to where I am now.”

Monica laid the open folder down, barely giving Kristie enough time to scurry out of the way before it touched down on the table.

“While I truly do admire that about him, so much so that I’ve taken to … looking after him at times, making sure he’s not punished for that big heart he’s so desperate to hide,” she said with a small smile. “Normally, that has meant taking steps to keep his cutthroat coworkers at bay, but you landed on my radar from the moment we first met as well.”

Kristie wandered on top of the now exposed files, doing her best to read them from so close. It took some effort on her part, but when Monica heard a tiny gasp, she knew the shrunken girl understood what she was looking at well enough.

“Yes, as you can see, I’ve had my research team look into you,” Monica said.

Her right index finger descended, touching the file that Kristie was studying just a few inches away from the tiny girl. Monica’s intention was to begin reading from the offending document as a means to pressure her target into acquiescence.

The move would prove to be unnecessary.

A panicked Kristie ran over to Monica’s finger and tried to push it away. The finger didn’t budge as Monica stared down at her in surprise.

“Alright! I agree!” Kristie said. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Regaining her composure, Monica gently swiped her index finger into Kristie. The soft blow was enough to send her itty bitty victim rolling halfway across the page.

“Not yet,” Monica said.

As she watched Kristie get back to her feet, Monica began to close the folder. She was done with it, after all. Kristie desperately dashed toward the top of the file as the shadow of the opposite side of the folder swallowed her up. The shrunken woman dove across the paper’s edge as Monica slammed the folder shut against the table.

“You’ll let Duncan know that you’re doing this of your own volition before we go through with it,” Monica said, ignoring the peril she had just put Kristie in. “Otherwise you’ll tell Duncan I forced myself on you when this inevitably comes up later.”

Kristie stood up and crossed her arms as she gave Monica an angry stare.

“Yeah, because blackmail is so much better than using your size to make me do this,” Kristie said sarcastically, also pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. “Fine! I’ll tell Duncan I’m super stoked about taking a dive into your vag, and that’ll be the end of it. Happy?”

Monica ignored the question and leaned back in her seat. Part of her was, in fact, happy that Kristie would get what she deserved without Monica herself having to break her word to Duncan. But she was a bit conflicted at the lengths she had to go to do it. As much as Monica hated to admit it, Kristie’s use of the word blackmail wasn’t inaccurate.

Although Monica questioned whether she was going too far, she was determined to see this through. She had done plenty of unsavory things just to earn her spot as CEO and even rename the company after herself. Doing one more unsavory thing so that justice was done for Duncan was a no brainer for her.

********

Monica couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so nervous about a meeting.

Maybe the first time she was invited into the board room? No, the prospect of making or breaking her career paled in comparison to what was on the line here.

Her punishment for Kristie had seemed so fitting when she came up with it in the heat of the moment during their discussion three days ago. But now, as she led Callie, with Duncan in hand, into the lounge, she was beginning to have second thoughts.

Of course, that punishment wasn’t the reason why Monica had sent her driver to bring her friends to her home. Her team had provided the results of their investigation into Natasha, and her extra living space seemed the ideal place to discuss the matter with those closest to her.

“This place is incredible!” Callie exclaimed as she admired the soft gray walls of the lounge. “This is, like, the nicest home I’ve ever been in!”

Monica cringed internally at the sound of her friend’s voice. She was happy to hear Callie sound so lively, her voice carrying a lilt it had been missing over the past few days. At the same time, however, Monica was worried about what the innocent girl would think of her plan for Kristie.

“Yeah, this is even nicer than I thought it’d be,” Duncan said. “You’ve got some great taste.”

As Monica looked over her shoulder and smiled at the smaller of her two guests, she couldn’t help but think of how he might feel about the punishment she had in store for his rapist. Would he feel like it was just, or might the very thought of it trigger some lingering trauma within him?

“Thank you,” she said as she eyed both Callie and Duncan, motioning to a pair of white leather Chesterfield armchairs flanking the ends of a nesting coffee table. “Please, have a seat.”

Monica and Callie sat in the comfortably plush seats, looking down on Kristie, who was still standing on the lower glass platform of the table, right where Monica had left her. Below Kristie’s feet, the stainless steel legs of the table were visible through the two transparent table tops, which were both surrounded by gold trim.

Monica noticed Callie’s reluctance before the blonde finally set Duncan down on the upper platform of the table. He wore a blank expression as he stared at Kristie, who actually turned away from his gaze.

“Before we begin,” Monica started, feeling the anxiety build within her, “there is another matter I’d like to mention.”

She fidgeted uncomfortably in her chair.

“There’s no easy way to bring this up, so I’ll be blunt,” Monica told Duncan. “Kristie and I had a talk about what she did to you. What she really did to you.”

The sound of skin rubbing against leather filled the air, and Monica, Kristie, and Duncan turned to Callie, who was gripping the ends of her chair’s armrests.

“I know, too,” Callie announced, releasing her grip and calming herself. “You have night terrors about it every night, Duncan. I’ve been able to figure out ...what she did.”

The news came as a surprise to Monica and to Duncan as well, as far as he could tell. But perhaps the most stunned person in the room was Kristie.

“Night terrors?” Kristie asked.

The other three occupants in the room ignored the tiny girl as Monica pushed herself to continue.

“That’s why I decided that Kristie needed to be punished,” she said. “After talking with her, we’ve agreed for her to suffer from the same offense that she committed against Duncan.”

Callie’s eyes went wide.

“You mean you’re gonna …” she trailed off, too shocked to finish the thought.

Duncan’s expression was harder to read. Not knowing his thoughts did nothing to stop Monica from speculating, however. He was judging her, she was sure. Did he see her as the same as Kristie? Was she worse than his ex, in his mind? What was she thinking, bringing this up in front of a rape victim.

Monica decided that she couldn’t go through with it. She would let the prospect of the punishment linger in Kristie’s mind for a few days before letting her off the hook. There was just no way she could do it now, not after seeing Callie and Duncan’s clearly horrified expressions.

“What?” Kristie asked harshly. “You think I’m a pussy like you, Duncan? You think I’m going to cry like a little bitch about some nightmares? You must be the luckiest little shit on the planet, having these bitches feeling bad for you just because you got some pus—”

Before she knew what she was doing, Monica had already stood up and was reaching for Kristie, pinching the bitty bitch at the waist with her right forefinger and thumb. The giantess pulled out the waistband of her black stretch pants and black-laced panties and stuffed her right hand and its occupant inside.

Monica barely had time to appreciate the feeling of Kristie’s puny body rubbing against her labia before her forefinger was shoving the tiny inside their warm, drooling embrace. Apparently Monica had wanted this far more than she realized.

The feeling of Kristie’s frantic movements as her limbs helplessly beat against Monica’s vaginal walls was otherworldly for the executive. Not only was the idea of her womanhood consuming a person whole, utterly dominating them in a way Monica had never known before, getting her hot, but each time Kristie actually touched in there her felt electric.

With closed eyes, Monica tilted her head back. She couldn’t stop a seductive moan from escaping her lips. She was about to plunge her fingers inside after Kristie with the intent of pushing her deeper inside when a sense of realization struck her.

Monica’s eyes popped open as she lowered her chin level. The gaped maws of Duncan and Callie met her gaze, causing Monica to instinctively pull her hand out of her pants. A mixture of humiliation and fear began to consume Monica. She could only guess what thoughts were going through her friends’ heads.

“Oh my God!” Monica said. “I-I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me!”

She searched for more words, an explanation of sorts or maybe a way to assuage some of their concerns, but nothing came to mind. So it came as a great surprise and worry when they spoke up instead.

“I-it’s fine,” Callie said in a daze. “I mean, I get it.”

Monica then looked down to Duncan, expecting the little man to give both of them an earful.

“Hey, it’s your house,” he said.

With Monica’s own jaw nearing the floor, she sat back down, feeling the impact of her falling back into the seat rattling Kristie from within her pussy. Monica felt even more stimulation from Kristie as the giantess crossed her legs, her slack-jawed expression receding into a satisfied smirk now that she was free from judgment.

“With that out of the way, let’s get on with the reason I called you here …”

********

Duncan was struggling to pay attention to the conversation taking place above him.

He heard Callie ask something about Ada, which allowed his thoughts to briefly drift away from his ex-girlfriend and her time in his boss’s sex. He was glad he had set things straight with Ada after that meeting a few days ago. She could barely look at him throughout the meeting or right afterward.

However, after Duncan had assured her that he had no problem with her and that he just wanted to make sure she was okay, she seemed to gain back some of her cheer. Of course, letting her know that he wasn’t interested in her romantically took away from that a bit, but she seemed to understand well enough.

“F-fair enough,” Monica’s uncharacteristically shaky voice penetrated his thoughts. “Perhaps I should have invited her as well. And I’ll back OFF of her and give the girl a fair chance.”

The breathless way she spoke was a constant reminder for Duncan of Kristie’s situation. He nearly jumped when Monica almost screamed that lone syllable in pure bliss. He was left in awe of just how intense the feeling of Kristie squirming around in there seemed to be for Monica.

He turned away from Monica’s continuous twitching and shifting as she tried to remain composed despite the living sex toy being put to work inside her, looking up at Callie instead. As a low, deep moan came from Monica’s direction, his imagination began to get the better of him.

If Kristie could make Monica feel like that despite her tiny size, Duncan wondered if he could do the same for Callie. While it’s true that he had … previous experience at this, he was too busy being stuck in Kristie’s pussy to see just how effective a tiny could be at pleasuring a normal-sized woman.

It was a traumatizing experience being stuffed into the darkness beyond his ex’s labia, left only to feel his way through her love tunnel as her fingers forcibly shoved him deeper and deeper inside. He still remembered sliding against those contracting muscles drenched in her natural lubrication and the first hints of femcum, kicking and screaming the whole time.

But as Duncan gazed up at his roommate as she carried a conversation with Monica, that experience inspired something other than shame for once. He pictured himself slipping into Callie on his own as she sat back and smiled down on him. He could almost feel her lower lips hugging him tightly before allowing him entry.

He could almost hear her muffled voice calling to him, begging for more as his fingertips glided across the slick surface of her inner womanhood at his leisure, teasing her sans relent. He could almost taste her juices as he licked them from his fingers, before bringing his tongue to the nearest wall for a better taste.

Duncan could almost smell her arousal as it grew tenfold, his probing hands feeling along the pulsing ceiling just within his tiny reach. He started to move deeper inside, hearing Callie’s moans increase when—

“You okay?” Callie asked him. “You look a little flushed. You gettin’ sick?”

Duncan shook his head and looked away, hiding how upset he was at himself for perving on his friend like that. Things had already become awkward enough after she “assisted” him with that semen sample, which he had to provide again on his own later, as proper storage of such a sample was the last thing on anybody’s mind that night.

He wasn’t sure how much Kristie’s sudden appearance or Callie’s first reaction played in his roommate being more distant over the past few days, but he was certain that him making her get him off played a role. Was she disgusted by him now? She’d certainly be too nice to tell him that if she did.

“Hold up,” Callie said to Monica. “So you’re saying that no one has seen Natasha since we found Kristie?!”

Duncan’s head shot up to Monica as he cursed himself for getting lost in thought. He needed to pay attention, dammit! He had been worried enough at the prospect of the girl with the blue streaks somehow shrinking his friends, but Callie’s careless philosophy of just accepting whatever happens drove him insane!

And the worst part was that he couldn’t say a thing to her about it. She used his own words to prove her point, but couldn’t she see that this is different? Of course, he wasn’t sure how it was different, but it had to be. It felt so wrong when she said it, and her attitude filled him with concern for her well-being.

Was he just being a hypocrite?

“Yes. Yes!” Monica answered. “Um, excuse me. Y-yes, you understood correctly. She moved into the neighborhood where she FOUND Duncan shortly be-FORE he shrank, and now no one can FIND her.”

The speed at which she spoke was starting to increase, shifting Duncan’s thoughts back to the cause of her excitement: Kristie. He had tried to avoid thinking about what he had seen Monica do with his ex, but as Monica’s squirming became more frequent, it was harder to keep ignoring the reality of the situation.

He wished he had told Monica to stop before she pushed Kristie inside her. He felt as though he should ask his boss to pull the shrunken girl out even now. Since the moment he bit Callie, he had been wondering why he felt the urge to protect Kristie despite everything that she did to him.

At first Duncan was afraid that a part of him still had feelings for her, a fear he was able to dismiss fairly quickly. Then he thought he was acting out of solidarity, a feeling that tinies needed to stick together now that there was more than just him. Indeed, that’s the excuse he told himself as he defended her so vigorously from his friends that first night with her.

But it didn’t take long for him to figure out the real reason. Despite everything he said shortly before the end of that meeting being mostly true, none of it provided the motivation behind his words.

That came from the guilt.

Looking back on how Callie almost crushed Kristie in her fist, Duncan realized his only thoughts at the time were for Callie. But afterward, he started to give more thought to his feelings toward Kristie at the time.

That’s when he had to admit to himself that a part of him didn’t want Callie to stop.

If Duncan hadn’t been sure that Callie would have been devastated after the fact, he wasn’t sure if he would have even tried to stop her. And he hated that about himself. So he overcompensated by standing up for Kristie, a person he resented so much after finally seeing her once again. He couldn’t let himself give in to that hatred.

But now, with Kristie being stuck inside Monica’s pussy, he found that he didn’t feel sorry for his ex in the least. Based on his own experience, he knew that Kristie would survive, even if she wouldn’t be the same when she came back out.

So Duncan pushed down the guilt, telling himself that there was nothing he could do to help her, hoping that lie would be enough to let him sleep at night.

********

Callie really was doing her best to pay attention.

From what she could focus on, she was really impressed with what Alyssia and her team were able to uncover about Natasha. Callie was pretty sure that went beyond the normal scope of a personal assistant, and she was a tad jealous that someone so close to her own age was entrusted with such important duties by her hero.

But Callie was struggling to pay attention to the details Monica was giving her, as her thoughts kept drifting back to Kristie. Or rather, Kristie’s situation. With every wiggle of Monica’s body, Callie could feel a little more moisture building up behind her panties. And that stunning body of hers was wiggling a lot!

Callie kept sneaking glances down at Duncan. She wanted him so bad! But she knew he didn’t feel the same way. She still had no idea how he felt about Ada, although she at least took some solace in him not defending Kristie for once. Maybe he wasn’t falling for his evil ex all over again?

Either way, it was clear that he wasn’t into her. He pretty much told Ada as much, and he could barely look at her after making him cum for the first time in more than half a year. Even if she was being slightly paranoid about him and other girls, that stuff was concrete evidence of how he felt about her specifically.

Callie had dreamed of that special moment with Duncan each night since it happened. Seeing Monica take things a step further with Kristie made Callie lust for more. But she could never do that to him, even if he hadn’t been unwillingly stuffed inside a vagina before.

Still, perhaps things wouldn’t have to be so forceful with Duncan. She stared past Monica as she envisioned herself sitting on her bed, back against the wall and totally naked. Her legs were spread apart as he walked through the vast valley they created for him, that same hunger in his eyes that she saw the other night, just before he came at her touch.

As he arrived at Callie’s pussy, she reached down and spread her lips open for him, inviting him inside. She shivered as she felt his hand brush her labia majora with his hands before taking hold and pulling himself between them. He gave her clitoris a teasing lick as he moved past it, sending a ripple of pleasure through her body as she yearned for more.

Pushing his way past her inner lips, she could feel him within her womanhood, rubbing, licking, and even biting wherever he could. His bites were particularly intense for her, causing her to bite the lower lip of her mouth to contain herself. She didn’t want to make things too easy for him, after all.

If Duncan wanted to get her off, he was going to have to work for it.

But as he burrowed deeper and deeper within her, Callie couldn’t help herself. She began to play with her clit as he found her g-spot, giving it a hard bite. She wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer! It was only a matter of—

“Um, Callie?” Duncan interrupted her daydream. “You’re drooling.”

Callie looked down to see a few droplets of drool beside Duncan on the table. He also looked a bit … damp. She quickly swiped the back of her left hand across her chin and lips, wiping away the escaping saliva. She apologized to Duncan, then looked up to do the same to Monica for interrupting her.

But Monica wasn’t speaking anymore. She was looking straight ahead, and Callie noticed that her left arm was twitching in an oddly consistent motion. It took a minute before Callie thought to look through the table’s surface and saw that Monica was touching herself beneath it. Callie barely noticed her own left hand drifting downward on its own.

Callie’s hand slipped under the waistband of her dark blue skirt and under her pink panties. Her fingertips slowly traced her lower lips, collecting a surprising amount of wetness as they completed one lap along the lubricated track. As her middle and index fingers began to penetrate her, she could almost feel Duncan squirming inside her.

That’s when she came to her senses.

Callie was quick to pull her hand out of her pants, nearly bashing her wrist against the edge of the table. She set her hand on the table, her cheeks practically glowing red as she desperately hoped that Duncan hadn’t seen her touching herself. Thankfully, he was too busy staring at the show Monica was putting on to notice.

Just as Callie was about to breathe a sigh of relief, she noticed he sniffing at the air. It was then that she realized that she had set her juice-covered fingertips a little too close to him. As swiftly as she had put her hand on the table it was gone, receding to her lap, her right hand folded on top of it.

Duncan sniffed for a few seconds more before his eyes settled on the spot where her hand had been. Not wanting to have him see her watching him, she turned her attention elsewhere.

Callie glanced back up at Monica’s face to find those hypnotic brown eyes waiting for her. They locked on to Callie’s gaze and refused to let go.

“She’s fighting as HARD as she can in there,” Monica said. “Every punch, KICK, bite, and scratch feels … feels … Oh SHIT!”

Monica’s free hand gripped the armrest of her chair as hard as she could. Callie found herself doing the same. She knew just how close Monica was, almost anticipating it.

Callie briefly considered Kristie and what she was going through. The co-ed knew she should feel bad for the tiny girl, and she did feel some guilt over just sitting there while Kristie was stuck in Monica’s pussy. But Kristie had apparently already agreed to this, right?

Callie told herself that made a difference, that she would have stepped in and helped Kristie if Monica had truly forced this on her. She almost believed it, too.

********

Kristie was in hell.

What little air made it’s way inside Monica’s vagina was stale and smelled of molasses. It was pitch black and she had no idea which direction was up or down or, more importantly, which way led deeper inside Monica and which way led to freedom.

Seemingly every movement Monica made violently jostled Kristie around. The puny prisoner kept choking on her warden’s juices as they splashed all around her, drenching her hair and only set of clothing.

Kristie kept clawing at the slimy walls all around her, desperate to make Monica feel some sort of pain for doing this to her. But from what little she could hear from inside, Kristie could tell that her struggles were having the opposite effect. Still, in her anguish, Kristie couldn’t think straight and continued to fight anyway.

The contractions of Monica’s vaginal muscles also had their way with the tiny girl. Kristie was squeezed and bounced around as Monica’s love tunnel seemed to have a mind of its own.

Kristie regretted agreeing to do this, to say the least. Is this what she put D through? He felt so good down there when she did put him inside her that she had a hard time believing he had suffered the way she was now. She didn’t hate D the way that Monica hated her, so there was no way …

Kristie’s throat was finally cleared enough for her to scream, and she took full advantage as the shaking around her increased in intensity. Monica’s body was squirming faster now. She had to be close. Then she could finally get out of here.

As Kristie met the first bit of femcum making its way toward the exit, it splashed her in the face, stinging her eyes and clogging her nostrils. She tried to shout her anger out for the world to hear, but all she got for her troubles was a mouthful of cum.

Her anger was boiling over. She was mad at the bitch who shrank her. She was mad at the bitch who apparently stole her man. She was mad at D for not staying loyal to her. She was mad at Monica for obvious reasons. But most of all, she was mad at herself.

Why did she always push so hard to piss off everyone around her? Why was she so full of hate? Why couldn’t she at least keep her mouth shut and pretend to be a nicer person?

You know why, Kristie chided herself.

She soon found herself being swept up in a wave of femcum. She didn’t even try to fight the overpowering current as her aching muscles didn’t have the strength nor did her bruised body have the will to do so.

Fuck my life, Kristie thought as she was left totally at the whim of Monica’s coming orgasm.

********

Monica arched her back, lifting her firm ass a solid foot off her chair. The feeling of Kristie inside her became too much. She had already stopped fingering her clit, and her wet hand was clutching the leather of her chair’s armrest alongside her right one on the opposite armrest.

The giantess let out a near-deafening scream as all the tension in her body suddenly released all at once, a surge of mind-bending pleasure rippling through her very core. As her panties started to feel soggy, she felt Kristie being thrown from her pussy into the sea of femcum forming at the bottom of her panties.

Monica barely had the presence of mind to ease herself back into her seat so as not to squish Kristie. As the muscles in her arms, legs, and abs fully relaxed in post-coital bliss, the possibility that Kristie might actually drown in her underwear occurred to her.

That fear was quickly alleviated, however, as she could feel Kristie moving around in there. The movements were slow but not desperate, so Monica knew the tiny girl was fine. She could stay in there until Monica was finished with her guests.

Speaking of which, she felt her face flush as she once again remembered that she, in fact, wasn’t alone.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Monica said with rare shyness on her part. “I-I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sorry! Fuck, that must have been incredibly awkward for you to witness!”

Duncan and Callie glanced at each other before looking back at Monica.

“Nah, you’re good,” Callie said. “I mean, sure, I can’t say I’ve had a host put on that kind of a show for me before, but I’m not gonna think any differently about you or anything.”

Duncan nodded along with Callie’s words.

“Yeah, this is just a really weird situation,” he said. “I don’t think any of us have felt like ourselves lately. So I think you’re allowed a moment like that.”

Monica was touched beyond words at her friends’ acceptance of her. Not only was her behavior crass, inconsiderate, and possibly cruel, if one were to consider Kristie’s opinion on the matter, but she had never let her guard down to this extent with anyone other than a sexual partner before.

That Callie and Duncan could witness her embarrassing herself like that and not think any less of her was something she appreciated more than they would ever know.

“Thank you,” Monica said with a slight tremble, barely able to keep her tears behind her eyes.

After taking a few seconds to recenter herself, she cleared her throat and got back on point as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“So as I was saying, this Natasha doesn’t seem to actually be employed by any of the local businesses in the area, and the timing of her arrival and departure from the neighborhood seem particularly suspicious,” Monica said. “While there’s not yet any hard evidence, I think it’s safe to assume this girl is involved in all this.”

Monica continued to summarize the results she had just gone over, as she was pretty sure none of them were actually paying attention to any of it the first time. Once finished, she escorted Callie to the door as the girl carried Duncan in her purse. Monica’s driver met them at the door and took them back to their apartment.

As Monica closed the front door and started to walk to her bedroom, Kristie’s slight weight shifting at the bottom of her panties reminded the CEO of her little stowaway. She pulled back the waistband of her pants and panties once again as she reached down with her right hand to fish the girl out.

Chapter End Notes:

No pussies were hurt in the writing of this ... Oh wait, that was for last chapter. Sorry!

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter if you have any. You can even yell at me if you want to! I ... I won't cry. I p-promise!


Duncan vs. the Resigned Roommate

Word Count: 11985
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

Oh shit! What does that chapter title even mean? Who comes up with this shit, anyway?

There's a lot going on with this chapter, so I'll go ahead and keep the babbling to a minimum and let you get right to it!

“I still can’t believe she agreed to help us out,” Duncan said, looking up at Alyssia from the palm of her right hand. “She just seems so … above childish stuff like this, you know?”

Alyssia was crouched down in a small gap between a pair of bushes just at the edge of a parking lot. Her fingers were slightly curled to prevent any branches from knocking her miniature friend out of her hand. The evening air gently kissed the smooth skin of her cheeks.

“I think she’s going through this phase where she’s trying to do all the shit she missed out on because she was too busy being successful,” Alyssia said. “I actually had to talk her out of being out here for this part. Deep down she just wants to be one of the girls, just like you.”

She grinned as Duncan gave her a death stare but said nothing, just crossing his arms in defiance. She reached over with her left hand, extending her forefinger and booping him on the nose, her fingertip hiding the entirety of his face.

“Um, that doesn’t sound like Ms. Shale at all,” Ada chimed in, her head on an anxious swivel. “I don’t even know how you talked me into this.”

Alyssia glanced up from her hand, glaring at the girl in the thin-framed glasses. Upon catching Alyssia’s ire, Ada rubbed the right temple of those glasses between her thumb and index finger.

You should consider yourself lucky to be here,” Alyssia scolded. “Do you have any idea how hard Duncan and Callie had to try to convince Monica and me to give you a chance? Well, this is that chance, so quit your bitching and man up!”

She motioned down to Duncan with her head, expecting him to back her up. But instead, he was staring back at her with a quizzical expression.

“But she’s not a man?” he said.

Alyssia wiggled her hand slightly, causing Duncan to lose his footing and fall on his ass, which landed right where her middle finger met her palm.

“It’s a fucking expression, Duncan!” she hissed.

 Duncan smirked up at Alyssia, that annoying smile he always gave her when he knew he had gotten under her skin. She grunted in frustration, which only earned a chuckle from Duncan. She ignored him and turned her attention back to Ada.

“Just keep an eye out for the signal, alright?” Alyssia said. “Monica will let us know when we’re good to go.”

Ada nodded, then turned to study the business administration building with great intensity, paying particularly close attention to a second-story window, lit by dim lamp light from within. Alyssia released a light sigh and lifted Duncan from her chest level to her face.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re actually pretty cool,” Alyssia told him. “What made you think to do this, anyway?”

Duncan stood up and took a couple steps toward the center of Alyssia’s open hand, his bare feet tickling her palm.

“Callie has been a bit off ever since the day we found Kristie,” he explained. “I wasn’t sure if that was why at first or if it was because of … other reasons. But yesterday she told me that Stillwell has been giving her shit since he handed back midterms. She got a perfect score and the bastard thinks she cheated!”

Alyssia laughed and shook her head.

“Uh, she did cheat,” she said. “You were there, remember?”

Alyssia leaned in closer as she spoke, her nose almost touching Duncan as her eyes narrowed in mock accusation.

“Yeah, but that asshole doesn’t know that!” he said without missing a beat. “Besides, she did the last four or five on her own, and those were the hardest questions on the test. From what I saw, we hadn’t even gone over some of that stuff together yet, so she’s definitely picking things up better now.”

 Pulling her head back, Alyssia decided to move on and let him have the point. It’s not like she wanted to take away from Cal’s accomplishment anyway.

“So you really think this Stillwell guy is the reason Cal has been down?” she asked. “She’d be cool with this if she were here?”

Duncan looked up at the second-story window under Ada’s watch and then back at Alyssia.

“Yeah, I think that jerkwad is the problem,” he said. “And it doesn’t matter if she’d be okay with it because she’s at work and won’t find out until after we’re done.”

Alyssia raised an eyebrow.

“So you didn’t tell her anything about this?” she asked. “Bold move, 3D.”

Looking away nonchalantly, trying to slip her new nickname for Duncan past him, Alyssia noticed that the last car other than Stillwell’s black BMW was pulling out of the parking lot. The lone vehicle was parked in a space just beyond the reach of the light shining down from the streetlight above.

“3D? What the fu …” he stopped mid-sentence as his eyes flashed in realization. “Wait. You’re doing this now?!”

Alyssia looked back at Duncan, giving him an eager nod.

“Yup!” she said. “When you least expect it, just like I said.”

Duncan gulped as Alyssia waited for the inevitable question.

“I’m afraid to ask,” he said, “but what does it mean?”

Alyssia’s answer was preceded with a wide, evil grin.

“It’s short for the three words that sum you up best,” she said. “Dumb Dinky Duncan!”

Alyssia waited with rapt anticipation, waiting for Duncan’s reaction as his face was at first unreadable. Then his lips began to curl upward, followed by uncontrollable laughter as he fell over holding his stomach.

“That’s the dumbest shit I ever he—” he began, before being cut off.

Alyssia’s fingers swiftly curled over Duncan, closing in on him and hiding him within her fist entirely. She could feel him moving around in there, almost like holding a worm or a really small mouse within her fingers. The feeling was kind of cool, nearly cool enough to take away the sting of the little guy’s reaction to her insult.

“Hey, I, um, I don’t think you should do that to him,” Ada spoke up after silently watching the pair go back and forth for several minutes. “I know what it feels like to be laughed at, but just think of how scared he must be now that he’s made you mad. Besides, I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”

Alyssia made direct eye contact with Ada, shaking off her mild surprise that the black-haired girl had the guts to stand up to her, something Alyssia actually respected. Without looking away, Alyssia raised her closed fist between their faces and opened it palm up to reveal a still-laughing Duncan.

“—had a month and a half, and that’s what you came up wi—” Duncan said before Alyssia encased him in her fingers once more.

Ada looked from the fist back to Alyssia’s alluring blue irises.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong, but still,” Ada said.

Alyssia begrudgingly nodded and opened her fingers once more, waiting for Duncan to calm down. After a few minutes, the laughter stopped and he sat up. She was about to ask if he had gotten it out of his system, expecting him to laugh in her face even more, but he spoke first.

“Hey, do you think you could not call me that, actually?” he asked. “At least not the 3D part? I mean, I’ll laugh at your dumb dinky nickname all day, but 3D reminds me too much of Kristie.”

An odd combination of anger and shame hit Alyssia at the sound of Kristie’s name. She truly hated her, but knowing that she missed how similar her nickname for Duncan was to what the now-tiny bitch always called him hurt her heart. The last thing she wanted to do was remind him of her.

“Yeah, of course,” Alyssia said with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Sorry.”

Duncan flashed her a warm smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s just me being too sensi ...”

Duncan trailed off and turned back toward the building. The two girls trailed his gaze, noticing the same thing. The blinds to the dimly lit room on the second floor were now closed: Monica’s signal that now was the time to strike.

“Alright, it’s time,” Alyssia said. “Monica said she could give us a 15-minute window, so we shouldn’t waste too much time.”

She moved her hand holding Duncan right in front of her face, replacing the seriousness it wore just seconds before with a mischievous smirk.

“I just need to stash you away real quick!” Alyssia said.

The brunette reached toward her chest with her left hand and grabbed the zipper of her black jacket. She took her time pulling it halfway down, freeing her breasts, contained in a white tank top, for the world to see. Assuming the world was hiding in the bushes, at least.

“Before you even have to ask, I’m wearing a bra,” she explained. “This tank top is also tucked in, so even if you do somehow get out of my tits, you aren’t going anywhere.”

Alyssia tilted her hand, chuckling as Duncan tumbled over her palm and fell atop her breasts, right on the cleavage line. Her hands crept to the sides of her large chest.

“In you go,” she said.

A boob in each hand, Alyssia pulled them apart, watching with fascination as her cleavage spread into a gaping chasm, swallowing up her tiny friend. She caught a glimpse of his shocked face, releasing her breasts and letting them slam into him from both sides before he could even get in a word of protest.

She zipped her jacket back up as she surveyed the parking lot one last time, ensuring that it was still empty as she enjoyed the warm, electrifying sensation of Duncan wiggling between her breasts. She idly wondered if he was comfortable in there as she looked back at Ada, who was also dressed in all black.

“You ready for this?” Alyssia asked her.

The secretary reached down the length of her right leg, pulling up her pant leg to reveal a pair of sharp two-inch serrated switchblades sheathed and strapped onto each side of her leg between her shin and calf. She pulled one out of its sheath and held it out for Ada to take.

“You mean you want me to come with you?!” Ada asked. “B-but you said all I had to do was look out for anyone who might come into the parking lot.”

Alyssia met the nerdy girl’s complaints with a neutral stare, doing her best to ignore the tiny man squirming pleasantly between her boobs.

“I am altering the deal,” Alyssia said in a low tone. “Pray I don’t alter it any further.”

Ada’s eyes went wide.

“You …” she said with excited awe. “That’s …”

Alyssia started to emerge from the bushes, still holding the knife out for Ada behind her.

“Come on, Lando,” Alyssia said as she rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”

 Ada nodded and took the knife, a look of determination coming over her face.

The two girls put the hoods of their jackets up as they stepped onto the asphalt of the parking lot. Pulling the drawstrings tight to hide a little bit more of their faces, they then sprinted toward the black BMW, avoiding the circular patches of light illuminating the ground around them.

Alyssia could feel Duncan bouncing around in her cleavage. While she was enjoying his every movement, intentional or forced by her shaking chest, she was also a little paranoid about him getting lost again, despite the safety precautions she had taken. She slowed her stride slightly to give him a break.

Once they reached the vehicle, she pulled her pant leg up again and removed her own knife. She was about to instruct Ada on how to go about slashing the tires on her side of the car, but the other girl had already flipped open her blade and positioned its tip against the sidewall near the rim of the tire.

“I’ve always wanted to do something like this,” Ada said, a fire in her eyes. “I was always too scared.”

Alyssia nodded, realizing that Ada actually knew what she was doing. The secretary flipped her own blade open and positioned her blade the same way. She mouthed a three-count to Ada, with the two girls slashing on three. The two tires made a loud noise as they were slashed open, and they could only hope that Monica could keep his attention long enough to finish the job.

It wasn’t until after slashing the back tires that they heard yelling from above. Without looking up, Alyssia and Ada booked it for the bushes. Alyssia could feel Duncan fall below her tits and find himself being sandwiched between her left breast and her bra.

Safe and secure, she thought, his struggles tickling the bottom of her boob as it lifted and fell on top of him with each stride.

As they reached the edge of the parking lot, ignoring the insults and threats shouted by the man, they were giggling madly as they gave each other a quick simultaneous glance.

Duncan and Callie might have been right, Aylssia thought as they reached the bushes and kept on running. Maybe Ada isn’t so bad after all.

********

 A hand landing on Callie’s shoulder broke her from her thoughts.

“You good, Cal?” Brooklyn asked. “You’ve been out of it a lot lately.”

Callie’s eyes shifted away from the salmon wall opposite the register she was working as she turned around to address her friend.

“Um, yeah,” she said. “I’m, like, totally fine.”

Regaining her senses, Callie scanned the room. It was a slow night, with no customers around to peruse the boutique’s many racks of stylish dresses, jeans, shorts, and various other women’s attire. The bright LED lights overhead made every vibrant fabric color stand out, but it also seemed to make the hours stretch ever longer in her mind.

“Okay,” Brooklyn said doubtfully. “But if you wanna talk, I’m here, okay?”

Even if Callie could talk about what was bothering her, she doubted it would help. It wouldn’t make Duncan feel the same way about her that she does him. But the point was moot, anyway. She couldn’t tell Brooklyn her problem. Not only would that betray Duncan’s trust, but just think of how silly she would sound.

Oh, I’m just bummed because my three-inch-tall roommate doesn’t love me, Callie played out the pretend conversation in her head. I wanted to shove him inside me so bad this morning, but I had to settle for his couch instead.

She smiled at the memory. Then her eyes popped open as she remembered that she had to half-ass clean the piece of furniture off before Duncan finished his morning run around the kitchen and living room, as he would then have to get cleaned up for work.

“Fuck, I hope I got the smell out,” Callie mumbled.

She slapped a hand over her mouth after realizing that she said that part out loud.

“What was that?” Brooklyn asked, giving Callie the side eye.

Callie was saved by the bell, as it rang to signal that a customer had come in through the entryway. The two employees looked up, putting on their brightest smiles, ready to help whoever came through the door find something to accentuate their best features.

Those smiles quickly vanished when they saw who had entered the boutique.

 Professor Stillwell approached the register, a pair of police officers in tow, one male and the other female. Stillwell sneered at the two college students as he neared them.

“I knew you two would be together,” he said. “That’s them, officers. These are the girls who slashed the tires of my BMW.”

Callie gasped at the accusation. She knew Stillwell had been out to get her since he had been forced to record her perfect score on the midterm, but she didn’t expect him to outright lie just to get her in legal trouble!

“Of course you drive a BMW,” Brooklyn said in an annoyed tone.

Callie turned to her friend, giving her an expression that screamed “What the fuck?!”

“What?” Brooklyn said, holding her hand out near her face as she examined her pink-painted nails. “We didn’t do anything wrong, so why sweat it?”

The female officer stepped forward, standing beside Stillwell.

“Sir, do you have anything to back that claim up?” she said without looking at him. “The security footage didn’t give us enough for a clear ID, so I hope you have some evidence since you dragged us down here.”

Undeterred, Stillwell pointed his right forefinger at Callie as he turned to face the female officer.

“I heard them giggling like school girls after they vandalized my vehicle,” he said. “This one is one of my students, a troublemaker of the highest caliber. And I’ve seen her meet with her friend over there outside the lecture hall after class several times. Clearly they’ve been planning this for some time.”

The female officer looked annoyed by Stillwell’s presentation of the “evidence” against the two college girls, but before she could express it aloud, another woman, this one an elegantly dressed redhead looking to be in her 40s, walked in from the back room.

“Is there a problem, officers?” the older woman asked.

The male officer stepped ahead to meet the woman.

“We apologize for the disturbance, Miss …” he said.

The woman smiled brightly at the male cop, who looked to be in his mid-30s.

“I’m Elena Gadry,” she said. “I own this boutique, and please don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m a little concerned with two police officers standing in the middle of my store.”

The officer explained the situation, with Stillwell jumping in to accuse Callie and Brooklyn of the crime in question. Callie made eye contact with Elena, whose warm smile put her at ease.

“Well, I’m sorry Mr. Stillwell, but it couldn’t have been these girls,” Elena explained. “They’ve been here working since 5 o’clock, which was before your tires were slashed. You officers can check our security tape if you would like.”

Before the cops could answer, an angry Stillwell beat them to it.

“First off, it’s Professor Stillwell,” he told Elena snidely before looking back at Callie. “And second, it absolutely was her. There’s no one else it could be, so she’s guilty!”

The female cop looked at Callie and then back at Stillwell.

“Why couldn’t it have been anyone else?” The police officer asked.

Stillwell’s menacing glare never left Callie as he responded.

“She’s the only one with motive,” he said. “And aside from that, she viciously taunted me with … revealing attire during her class’s midterm exam.”

Brooklyn walked around the counter to stand face to face with Stillwell, hands defiantly placed on her hips.

“Oh, and just because a woman decides to dress a little sexy, she’s doing it just to get at you?” she asked mockingly.

Stillwell narrowed his eyes angrily at the brunette for having the audacity to question his faultless logic.

“She is when she refuses to sleep with me to improve her grade!” he yelled. “She came to the exam dressed like a slut, dressed me down in front of the rest of the students, and ‘earned’ herself a perfect score, which never happens. Now, after she came to the realization that I would never accept what was clearly cheating in my class, she took it upon herself to seek unjust retribution against me!”

Everyone in the room aside from Stillwell seemed to stop breathing for a second, and every eye in the room was on him. The silent attention wiped the arrogance from his face, and he seemed nervous. Then, a flicker of recognition lit his widened eyes as his mistake became obvious to him.

 “You … you threatened her grade for sex?!” Elena spoke up first.

Stillwell took a step back.

“I, um, may have misspoke …” he said.

Brooklyn took a step forward to match Stillwell, her hands removed from her hips and her right index finger pointed directly in front of his face.

“Bullshit!” she said, pausing for a second. “Now that I think about it, how the hell did you even know Callie was on shift tonight? Fuck, how did you even know she worked here at all?”

Stilwell stuttered, struggling to come up with a plausible answer.

Callie remained behind the register as her boss and her friend berated the man who had tormented her so much over the past several months. At first, she was surprised when the two of them didn’t turn to her with looks of disgust on their faces, blaming her for Stillwell’s lust. But now, as she realized that they had her back, her lips curled into a happy smile.

“Isn’t there anything you can do about this, officers?” Elena asked the two cops present.

The officers looked at each other before scowling at Stillwell in tandem.

“Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do,” the male officer said. “Even if she had … taken him up on his offer, that technically wouldn’t have been a crime, so long as it was a consensual act.”

The male cop cringed when mentioning Stillwell’s “offer” to Callie, clearly disturbed by the very notion of it.

“Believe us when we say we wish we could do something about this,” the female cop told Elena while giving Stillwell a death stare the entire time.

Elena walked behind the counter and put a comforting hand on the blonde’s shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look before turning toward Stillwell with an angry glare.

“Well, at the very least, I want you out of my store,” Elena told Stillwell. “You’re no longer welcome here!”

The older woman’s words seemed to bring back Stillwell’s indignant attitude. He stepped around Brooklyn and stared at Callie once more.

“I most certainly will not be leaving,” he said. “I’m staying here until that girl admits to what she did!”

The male cop walked past Stillwell, gently grabbing the perverted professor’s right arm and lightly pulling him toward the door.

“Come on, buddy,” the cop said. “I think you’ve bothered these girls enough for one night.”

Stillwell instinctively tried to remove his arm from the officer’s grasp. However, as he tried to wiggle his arm away, his elbow struck the officer in the chest, not enough to hurt, but hard enough to surprise the cop.

“Officer,” Stillwell said nervously, “clearly I didn’t intend to—”

The male cop gripped Stillwell’s arm harder this time, bending it behind the professor’s back as he went for his handcuffs. The officer read Stillwell his Miranda rights after explaining that he was being arrested for assaulting a police officer, all over the sniveling man’s complaints.

“This is outrageous!” Stillwell howled in a rage. “This injustice will not stand!”

The male officer smirked at him.

“You may be right,” the cop said. “That’ll be up to the DA’s office once they get a look at that store security camera. In the meantime, it looks like you’ll be spending the night in jail and I’ll have a little more paperwork once we get back to the station.”

The female officer walked next to her partner and the now handcuffed Stillwell.

“Another incident report, huh?” she asked before turning from her partner to face Stillwell. “You know how much the chief hates the way you write those, putting in every little detail. Like every word spoken on the scene, no matter how irrelevant, for example.”

Stillwell gulped as the female officer grinned wickedly at him, realizing what she was implying.

“Well I do like to be thorough,” the male cop said. “These things are available to the public, after all. I don’t want the department to look sloppy! But so long as your friend Cindy and the rest of the local media don’t get wind of the arrest, I’m sure no one will ever even think to ask for the report.”

The female officer’s eyes never left Stillwell as she responded to her partner.

“Ooh, I’m meeting Cindy at the bar after my shift tonight!” she said excitedly. “I’ll have to be extra careful that I don’t slip up and mention it to her.”

The two cops continued to chat as they escorted Stillwell out of the building and into their squad car.

Callie just stood there, still too stunned to fully comprehend what had just happened, as her coworker and boss each flanked her, offering words of sympathy and comfort. While their warm response to her situation was so appreciated by her, one thought made its way to the forefront of her mind.

Well, if I didn’t slash his tires …

********

 Monica kicked off her heels as soon as she walked through the door.

She had just returned home after her “meeting” with Carlton Stillwell, pretending to seek out his expertise on a business matter while Alyssia and Ada slashed the piece of filth’s tires. While the girls were too loud to avoid detection, they had successfully escaped the premises without being identified.

As Monica made her way to the kitchen, she thought back on the update Alyssia had given her on the operation. The personal assistant had spoken surprisingly positively about Ada’s role in the evening’s events, as well as about the girl in general. If the nerdy girl could win Alyssia over like that, perhaps Monica had been a bit too harsh on Ada.

Monica retrieved some leftover wagyu steak from a high-end restaurant that just opened downtown from the refrigerator and reheated it in the oven. Before sitting down to eat her dinner, she cut off the tiniest slice of meat she could and carried it into her bedroom.

She walked past her fluffy king-sized bed, the bedspread’s bright white shade contrasting perfectly with the inky blue walls. On the other side of the bed, she found a tiny, professionally handcrafted bed, an equally tiny circular wooden table with a single chair, a smartphone leaned against a few books, and one tiny girl, who was sitting on the opposite side of the bed facing away from Monica.

“Your dinner,” Monica said, setting the piece of meat on the tiny table.

Kristie didn’t acknowledge Monica’s presence, holding herself with crossed arms at her abdomen. She had been like this since Monica had fished the bitty bitch from her panties a few days ago. At first, Monica felt good that Kristie had been so thoroughly humbled. But after seeing the effect last as it had, Monica began to worry that she had gone too far.

No, she told herself. She raped Duncan, and she didn’t even care! She deserved the retribution I gave her.

Yet a nagging feeling of guilt wouldn’t leave Monica alone. It caused her to linger over her little guest for a few seconds before shaking off the feeling and turning around to leave.

“You aren’t going to give me to him now, right?” Kristie’s hollow voice barely reached Monica’s ears, the first words she had said in days.

Him? Monica had no idea to whom Kristie was referring. The CEO didn’t recall threatening to give Kristie to anyone. All she had done was open the dossier she had her people put together on Kristie. Did she make an assumption based on that?

“No,” Monica answered.

She debated adding further assurance or comfort to Kristie that she would be safe under her care, but the executive couldn’t bring herself to offer such luxuries to the vile tiny. Instead, she simply walked out of the room without saying another word.

Still, Monica’s curiosity had been sparked. Rather than heading back into her living room as originally planned, she stopped by the conference room first. It didn’t take long for her to dig up Kristie’s file and open it to the first page.

Odd, she thought. This is only the background page, covering her family history. It wasn’t the meat of the file at all!

Reading the file, Monica noted that Kristie was a product of foster care, much like Duncan, being sent to many different families throughout her childhood. Monica remembered where she had placed her finger when Kristie had tried to push it away, noticing the picture of an adolescent boy, no older than 13 at the time, centered atop the text.

According to the information below the photograph, the boy was the biological son of one of the foster families that had taken Kristie in for a few months when she was 15. The details were vague, but there had been an incident, with the boy’s nose being broken and the blame being placed squarely on Kristie.

Monica didn’t know why it bothered her so much, but she had to know what it was about this boy, now a fully grown adult a decade later, that terrified Kristie so much. She removed the photo from the folder, placing it in her front blazer pocket as a reminder to seek more information on the matter later.

********

 Callie looked herself over in the mirror after finishing with her hair and makeup.

The hem of her short denim skirt settled mid-thigh on her, and she had paired it with a stylish white off-shoulder ruffle-trim blouse with short sleeves, maybe her favorite outfit. As she examined her reflection, she remembered that it was this very ensemble that she was wearing when she first talked to Duncan.

Well, the first time that she talked to him and he talked back, anyway.

Callie smiled warmly at the memory. She felt a little guilty about leaving him alone for the evening, but Brooklyn had invited her to celebrate at a local club after seeing Stillwell receive what was coming to him the night before.

It hadn’t taken very long for that police report to make its way into the media cycle, even catching some national attention. By the end of Callie’s last class of the day, word had leaked that the university’s board of directors had terminated the corrupt professor’s employment after showing cause to remove his tenure.

She walked out to the living room and found Duncan hanging out on his couch, which she had moved from his shoebox home for him, near the edge of the coffee table watching TV.

“Are you sure you’re good with me headin’ out?” Callie asked him. “I can cancel and just hang here. I feel like we’ve been doin’ less of that lately.”

Duncan looked away from the screen and stood up, walking toward Callie, who was standing near one of the ends of the table.

“No, you should go,” he said. “Celebrate. That fuck is finally gone. The last thing I want is to keep you trapped in this apartment with me. Have some fun!”

Callie smiled at him in response, but she felt conflicted inside. While she was sure Brooklyn and her would have fun at the club, Callie secretly wished Duncan had asked her to stay. But he was probably right. She should go out and celebrate being free from Stillwell. Speaking of which …

“Thanks, by the way,” she told him. “I don’t know how you got Alyssia to work with Ada, but I appreciate you doin’ what you did.”

Duncan gave her a questioning look.

“I don’t follow,” he said.

This brought a giggle out of Callie.

“I already called Ada and made her tell me everything,” she said. “Well, almost everything. She said that you stayed here, but we both know there’s no way you wouldn’t be there yourself.”

Duncan lowered his head.

“I figured the less you knew about it, the better,” he said. “You were supposed to hear about the slashed tires today and think it was karma or something. I just didn’t want you to worry, especially about me being out there, too. Sorry.”

Callie shook her head.

“Nah, you’re good,” she said. “I mean, yeah, I’m gonna worry, but that shouldn’t stop you from doin’ what you wanna do. I just don’t know why you waited so long to get back at that prick. It would have been so much easier when you were still big.”

Duncan laughed as he looked up at Callie.

“Get back at him?” he asked. “I don’t give a shit about that asshole. I just thought it would make you feel better to see something bad happen to him at once. Which worked a lot better than I planned, honestly.”

Wait, Duncan did that for her? Callie didn’t realize she was being so transparent about her feelings lately. That was something she was going to have to try and watch from now on. But more importantly, while Duncan may never love her the way she loved him, he really did care about her deeply.

That’s good enough, she told herself. I can live with that.

Callie and Duncan said their goodbyes, and then she made for the door. As she strapped on her sandals right in front of the entryway to the apartment, there was a knock on the door. She looked back at Duncan, who nodded to her as he quickly descended the ladder blended into the table leg, eyeing a spot under the couch to hide, just in case.

Once Duncan was safely hidden, Callie stood up and cautiously opened the door, hoping to find anything other than another box waiting for her.

What she found was Alyssia.

“Hey Cal,” Alyssia said. “I know you said you were going out tonight, so I was hoping maybe Duncan might want some company?”

Callie looked back to see Duncan crawling back out from under the couch, giving her a thumbs up. She felt her heart drop. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous, but she couldn’t help but be upset that it would be Alyssia keeping him company tonight instead of her.

Not that there was anything wrong with Alyssia. Far from it, Callie really liked her! Also, it’s not as though Alyssia showing up like this meant anything was going on between Duncan or her or that it was any of Callie’s business if there was. She was totally fine with it, or at least that’s what she kept telling herself.

“Of course,” Callie said, burying her feelings and stepping aside, both literally and metaphorically. “I was just headin’ out. Come on in.”

Alyssia thanked her and walked into the apartment. She told Callie to have a fun night out before walking in front of Duncan, bending down, and offering him a hand to lift him up to the couch. Callie let out a quiet sigh as she walked through the door and closed it.

Callie leaned her back against the door and closed her eyes as she took one more deep breath before opening them, feeling ready to take on the night. She headed to the complex’s parking lot, where she found Brooklyn’s car already parked in a nearby spot, waiting for her.

********

Alyssia glanced down at the couch's armrest as Duncan leaned on its back portion and continued to watch the cheesy reality show they had spent the past half-hour ripping into.

“The foster brother? Why?” she spoke into the phone in her right hand. “Okay, okay, I’m on it. I’ll get the research team together and we’ll start in the morning.”

As Alyssia said goodbye and hung up, she couldn’t help but be a bit concerned. Why did Monica want to do more research into Kristie? Why now? Alyssia could only guess that her boss was starting to go soft on the little cunt and trying to help her somehow. Maybe she should have a talk with Monica about this in the morning.

“What’s up?” Duncan’s voice came from below.

Given Duncan’s own behavior toward Kristie, Alyssia decided she didn’t want to even mention it to him.

“Work stuff,” she said, looking back up at the TV. “What’d I miss?”

Duncan shrugged and also focused on the screen in front of them.

The two of them continued to make fun of the reality “stars” and their dumb antics for the remainder of the show. Then Alyssia turned off the TV and stood up, staring down at Duncan.

“As fun as that was, I think it’s time for my vengeance now,” she said with an innocent giggle. “After the nickname incident that we’ll never speak of again, I took some time to think up a way to get back at you for real.”

Before Alyssia turned around to walk toward the door, she caught a sly smirk on Duncan’s face.

“Is it dumb and dinky?” he asked.

 Alyssia grunted in annoyance.

“You know what, let me help you get down to the floor,” she said, reaching for him.

Alyssia pinched Duncan at the waist between her forefinger and thumb. She expected him to protest her grabbing him without permission, maybe even struggle a little. But he just stared up at her with that same smug expression, even after she set him all the way down on the floor beside the coffee table.

She made her way to where she left her high-heeled cream-colored sandals, more determined than ever to finally gain the upper hand over Duncan. After taking a minute to kneel down and strap the sandals onto her feet, she stood up, three inches taller than before, and made her way back toward Duncan.

“Fee. Fie. Fo. Fum!” Alyssia said as she stomped down with added emphasis on each word.

The secretary almost squealed with glee as she saw how the shock waves from each step caused Duncan to lose his balance, the last one knocking him on his ass.

“That may be the corniest thing you’ve ever done,” he said as he pulled himself to his feet.

Alyssia lifted her right leg and dropped her foot in a hard, petulant stomp, knocking Duncan over a second time.

“Just shut up and let me enjoy being big for once!” she huffed.

Alyssia could feel her cheeks turning red with embarrassment at her mini-tantrum. She cleared her throat and simply moved on.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” she said. “Since you’re always telling me how short I am—”

Alyssia could barely hear Duncan interrupting her from down by her feet, but hear him she did.

“You are short!” he yelled. “You’re only 5’3”.”

Alyssia couldn’t stop herself from scoffing.

“Five feet taller than you!” she grumbled back, before catching herself. “Er, I mean, since you’re always telling me how short I am, I figured I would take it easy on you. All you have to do is climb me!”

Alyssia stared down at Duncan standing there beside her toes, mouth agape in stunned silence. She was ready for this, choosing short white shorts and a tight black crop top to give Duncan as little clothing to grip as possible. There was one other bit of preparation she had taken as well.

“I also shaved my legs right before coming here,” she said. “Happy climbing!”

Duncan grabbed the back of his neck and winced as he strained to look up at her from the floor. Oh, Alyssia liked this feeling!

“What happens if I say no?” he asked.

Alyssia pursed her lips, touching them with her right index finger as she looked up and to her right in thought. There were so many ways she could make him regret refusing her challenge but only one that she knew he’d hate enough to just suck it up and climb her.

“I’ll never let you live it down,” she said. “Every day, for the rest of your life, no matter what size you are, you’ll hear about what a wuss you are. It’ll be the most important part of my day. Or the most fun part, at least!”

Duncan didn’t say a word. Instead, he made his way to the front of her left sandal. Alyssia almost giggled as she noticed that the sole of her shoe was almost half as thick as he was tall. He didn’t hesitate as he pulled himself onto the top of the platform, standing directly in front of her toes.

Alyssia had a hard time seeing him, as her formidable tits mostly blocked her view of her feet. She felt the bottoms of his bare feet make contact with the tops of her second and third toes. He started to walk up their length, which she took as her cue to wiggle her cute little digits.

She felt him fall onto the knuckles of her toes but kept wiggling until he fell from her toes, rolled off her sandal, and was knocked on the ground in front of her left foot, once again within her line of sight.

Oh yeah, nothing dumb or dinky about this! Alyssia mused.

********

Callie and Brooklyn both slammed down their shot glasses upside down and in sync on the table at their booth, their third shots of the night.

“Fuck yeah!” Brooklyn yelled over blaring music, throwing her hands up in the air.

Callie giggled at her friend.

“Thanks for this, Brooke,” Callie said. “I needed this.”

Brooklyn tilted her head as she looked at Callie, a sly smirk on her face.

“That’s not all you need!” the brunette said. “Tonight, I’m gonna get you fucked!”

Callie, despite feeling a tad tipsy, gasped in surprise at her friend’s bluntness.

“What?!” Callie replied. “I-I can’t do that!”

The smile evaporated from Brooklyn’s lips, a stern expression replacing it.

“I never asked about Mr. Whatshisface that had you so wet the other day, but it’s clear from how you’ve been acting this last week or so that things didn’t work out with him,” Brooklyn said. “I can’t sit back and let you let this guy do this to you.”

Duncan didn’t do anything to me, right? Callie asked herself.

“Look, you’re, by far, the sweetest, smartest, hottest person I’ve ever met. I mean, I’m straight, and I’d fuck you if I had the chance,” Brooklyn slurred slightly. “If whoever this guy is can’t see how great you are, fuck him!”

As Brooklyn held up another shot for a toast, her words swam around in Callie’s brain. For the first time in her life, she started to see herself the way that Brooklyn described. She was a catch. If Duncan couldn’t see that by now, that was his problem. She wasn’t going to let it get her down anymore!

“Fuck him!” Callie shouted as she banged her shot glass against Brooklyn’s.

The two girls gulped down their shots and slammed the glasses on the table, their eyes already scouting out the crowd on the dance floor for suitable targets.

********

 Duncan finally finished his ascent up the slope of Alyssia’s foot.

Fuck, she didn’t make that easy! he thought.

Leaning against the base of her shin, Duncan decided to take a quick break before continuing. He needed it after almost literally wrestling with Alyssia’s toes for the past 20 minutes. He couldn’t help but worry about whether she felt the rock hard erection he had when he was trapped between and under those toes, an erection that was just starting to go away.

Looking straight up, he couldn’t find a single hair on her endless legs that used to be well shorter than his own.

How the fuck am I going to get up that?! he asked himself.

“A little early for a break, isn’t it?” her voice thundered from above. “You think you’re going to win American Ninja Warrior like that?”

Duncan pushed himself off of her shin. He really didn’t care when most people talked shit about him, but there was something about Alyssia doing that just got to him. He wouldn’t give her any more ammunition than he needed to.

He ran his right hand up and down the nearest part of her shin, then did the same with his whole arm. It looked like the friction from their skin meeting would be enough to hold him in place as he shimmied up her leg. At least that’s what he told himself, hoping he was right.

Realizing he needed as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, Duncan took off his shirt and shorts and threw them over the side of Alyssia’s foot. He refused to do the same with his boxer shorts for obvious reasons. With that, he approached the point of the shin bone and began his real climb.

It was a slow process, inching his way up her shin. His legs were wrapped around as much of her shin bone as they could, while his arms stretched as far overhead as they could and pulled his body upward. His arms, chest, and legs dragged pleasantly across the silky smooth leg with each pull, although the heat generated from their skin touching quickly drenching him in his and her sweat.

It took Duncan 10 minutes to get a quarter of the way up Alyssia’s shin. He looked down and was surprised at how far away the ground was. Without anything with a proper grip to hold on to, he could feel his fear of heights starting to come back to him.

A sudden quake almost shook him from his perch. He tightened his grip just in time, as another quake followed in quick succession. Then another one. And another. His whole body was constantly vibrating from whatever was causing the quakes. He looked down again to see if he could find the source.

What Duncan found was Alyssia’s left foot impatiently tapping right below him.

“I’m getting bored, Duncan,” she said in a voice that sounded anything but bored. “Hurry up already!”

Duncan spent the next several minutes clinging desperately to Alyssia’s shin. After realizing that she wasn’t going to stop tapping her foot, he decided the best strategy was to pull himself up in smaller increments. He was reduced to half-inching it.

This … may take a while, he told himself.

********

 “Hey ladies, can we buy you a drink?”

Callie was already rolling her eyes. The two tall, musclebound, attractive guys dressed in nice button-down shirts and stylish jeans were standing in front of their booth already flagging down the waitress for those drinks, not bothering to wait for Brooklyn or her to answer.

So original, Callie thought in a sarcastic tone. Do girls even go for this shit anymore?

Brooklyn giggled and nodded, pushing her chest out a little bit right after. Callie rolled her eyes again.

She noticed one of the guys, a black-haired one that looked to be about her age, subtly flex his chest once he saw her looking his way.

Callie was not impressed.

“I bet a squirrel would eat you alive,” she mumbled, her words sloshing together a bit.

The guy stopped flexing as his face adopted a confused expression.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

Callie pushed herself out of the booth and stumbled past the two guys.

“I said I’m gonna go dance!” she shouted over her shoulder, leaving a stunned Brooklyn with the two obvious losers.

********

Alyssia felt Duncan cross over her kneecap.

She had stopped tapping her foot once he made it halfway up her shin, as she thought he could seriously hurt himself if he fell from that distance. He actually made pretty good time after that, and she found herself impressed with how well he had managed to work his way past her knee.

When she came up with this idea, Alyssia was convinced that Duncan wouldn’t even be able to find a way up her leg and that she could get a good laugh at his expense, making jokes about how he couldn’t even make it past a shortstack’s ankle. She had been surprised when she felt his bare chest rubbing against her lower leg.

But she was always quick to adapt, and this wouldn’t be any different. Rather than get upset that things didn’t work out as planned, she decided that she was going to enjoy the game as she eagerly waited to see how it would play out, and tapping her foot to fuck with him had been tons of fun.

Of course, the fact that Alyssia couldn’t see Duncan made her nervous.

She didn’t dare move, closing her eyes and focusing on that wonderfully tingling sensation of him crawling along her skin. She kept her hands at the ready, prepared to snatch him out of the sky should he lose his grip and fall.

However, paying such close attention to the tiny man struggling to make it up her legs was having a different effect on Alyssia as well. Having never felt so huge in all her life, she felt herself leaking from her womanhood, dampening her panties. Apparently being big was a turn-on for her.

To make matters worse, Duncan’s path was starting to drift toward her inner thigh. He was already halfway up her upper leg, and she was getting wetter by the second. She was starting to worry that he could smell her arousal through her shorts. Even if he couldn’t, the crotch area of her shorts was going to be drenched by the time he got there.

“Hey!” Alyssia said, thinking quickly. “I see what you’re doing. Keep straight, mister!”

She reached down and extended her left index finger, touching it down on the middle of her thigh and tracing it directly upward.

“What?” Duncan said, seemingly in a daze. “Oh! Oh yeah, definitely. Sorry, I was struggling a little and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

Alyssia could feel Duncan correcting course. She breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted!

As Duncan was making short work of the upper third of her thigh, her only problem was that, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of a good excuse to shove her hand down her pants.

********

Callie raised her arms in the air and swung them back and forth as she moved her hips seductively to the beat bursting from the club’s sound system.

She closed her eyes and focused on the music, as she needed a distraction from her increasingly cloudy thoughts. However, she still found herself wondering why she walked away from that musclebound blond earlier. She knew right away he wasn’t someone she’d date, but he was hot enough for a good fuck, right?

Isn’t that what you’re here for? Callie asked herself. Someone to take your mind off of … him.

Her eyes opened, right in front of her was another guy, this one looking a little older than her with slick-back black hair and wearing a white polo shirt and khakis. He flashed her perfect smile as he looked directly into her eyes. He was cute enough, she guessed.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asked. “Or should I walk by again?”

Callie’s eyes narrowed as she stared back at the guy. This guy was smooth. Too smooth. Duncan would have been much more to the point. He—

Damn it! she scolded herself. Why am I thinkin’ about him again.

“Like, I do believe in love at first sight,” Callie said. “Sorry.”

She stopped dancing and walked away from the guy, who actually looked a little hurt by her response, and made her way back to her booth.

********

I can’t believe this is still working, Duncan mused.

He was nearing her chest now, after angling himself toward the center of Alyssia’s torso for most of his climb over her abs. He had been worried that, between the sweat and how flat her stomach was, his skin would lose its grip on her own, but the stinky moisture appeared to actually make him slightly more adhesive to her skin.

Not to mention that her surprisingly defined ab muscles provided nice grips for him as well.

Duncan glanced down over his left shoulder, seeing her belly button well below his position. He had been planning to use the opening as a rest area, as he was pretty sure he could fit if he scrunched in enough, but Alyssia not only made him change course back on her thigh, but made sure that he didn’t line up with the center of her body until he was above it.

Why is she being so weird about that? he wondered.

Shrugging off his exhaustion, Duncan decided to focus on his next decision as he neared Alyssia’s crop top: over or under?

Climbing her shorts had been so much easier than her bare skin, but the size of her breasts made for more climbing. Powering between her tits would be its own challenge, but he wouldn’t have to worry about falling.

Down by her waist, he could see that Alyssia’s hands were poised to catch him if he slipped. He noticed that they were ready when he reached her thigh as well, but now they were already cupped and looked to be ready to swoop in the second he started falling.

As comforting as that was to see, he figured they could both relax a bit if he took the more secure route.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Alyssia asked as he climbed under the hem of her shirt.

Duncan was happy that she couldn’t see the grin on his face as he made his way under the wire of her bra.

“It’s not like it’s my first time in here!” he shouted as loud as could, still unsure if she could hear him through the mountain of flesh just above his head.

With a little wiggling and a lot of pulling with his arms and pushing with his legs, Duncan was able to squeeze his way between Alyssia’s boobs. Surrounded on all sides by pliable girlflesh, Duncan remembered how he managed to climb up Callie’s cleavage back during the midterm.

I wonder what she’s doing right now, he mused, a sudden sadness hitting him at the thought. I … I hope she’s having a good time, at least. She deserves it.

Spreading his legs and bringing his knees toward his core, Duncan kicked them back out, his soles catching on the supple walls of flesh. His arms, positioned over his lead and each laying against a breast, pulled him upward as well. His nearly nude body brushed against the soft, inviting skin of Alyssia’s inner tits as his body ascended.

He repeated this move a few more times, enjoying the feeling of sliding between her breasts despite the burning sensation coming from the muscles of his arms and legs. He guessed that he was at or near the midpoint of his journey through her boobs when he finally had to stop and take a rest.

It only took a minute before Duncan felt the first impact.

He heard a near-deafening smack to his right immediately before his whole world was violently jostled to the left. He struggled to maintain his position as he could feel Alyssia’s tits sway and jiggled at the same time, the latter of which shook his whole body as it started to slide back deeper into her breast.

“No breaks!” Alyssia said with a giggle.

The vibration of those two words powered through her sternum and rattled Duncan’s bones. It took a bit of time for the shaking both inside and outside of Duncan to settle, giving him time to process what happened.

Alyssia had struck the side of her left breast.

Almost on cue, another smack assaulted Duncan’s ear drums, this time from his left. Again he was thrown against her boobflesh and again he tumbled a little further downward.

He knew Alyssia well enough, both in general and from this climb specifically, to know that this wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. If he was going to make it through her breasts, he needed to come up with a strategy and fast!

********

Callie sat at the booth, her left check in her left palm as her arm was propped up on the table by her elbow. She wore a bored expression as she held her shot glass I her left hand, staring at the contents as she lazily swished them around with a flick of her wrist.

“C’mon Cal,” Brooklyn whined. “You’ve turned down every guy who’s talked to you all night!”

Callie looked away from her glass and glanced in Brooklyn’s general direction. Callie’s vision was a little bit blurry, but she could still make out her friend just fine.

“It’s not my fault they all sucked,” Callie said, throwing back her drink and grabbing the arm of a random guy walking past their booth. “Hey you! You suck!”

Brooklyn apologized to the man as Callie let go of his arm. She then pulled Callie in closer to her.

“Cal! You can’t just grab at random people like that!” Brooklyn said.

Callie leaned on her smaller friend’s shoulder, almost tackling her on accident.

“It doesn’t matter,” she slurred. “None of these guys are Duncan.”

Brooklyn pushed as hard as she could, just managing to push Callie in the opposite direction, the tall blonde maintained just enough balance to keep from collapsing in her seat.

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough,” Brooklyn said. “I’m ordering you an Uber. Do I need to come with you to make sure you can walk into your apartment?”

Callie slowly shook her head.

“Nah, I can walk just fine,” she said.

Callie stood up, holding her arms out to keep her balance, and walked to the other side of the table. She was a little shaky, but she could still move around alright.

“Okay, they should be here in 10 minutes,” Brooklyn said. “I’m gonna stay here and make sure at least one of us gets fucked tonight! Come with me tomorrow afternoon to pick up my keys from the bartender?”

Callie nodded and leaned down to give her still seated friend a hug, almost falling on top of her. Then she stood up straight and made her way to the door.

********

 Alyssia held perfectly still as she felt Duncan scurry past her collarbone and onto her right shoulder.

She was too nervous to fuck with her little friend now. He wasn’t supposed to get this far. He wasn’t supposed to get past her ankles. She was supposed to just knock him around with her toes a little bit, maybe shake her foot to buck him off it or something.

Alyssia didn’t even know how Duncan made it out of her tit pendulum trap! She thought for sure that would not only stop him but keep him safe and secure while doing it. Now there he was, standing all the way up on her shoulder. If he fell from there, it would be a 10-story fall.

It’s such a long way down for him, she thought with a blend of concern and arousal. I’m like a fucking building to him!

As Alyssia felt herself getting wetter by the second, she also felt a tug on a few of her brunette strands. She resisted the urge to turn and look, knowing how disastrous even such a simple move could be for Duncan. His bare feet touched down on her neck and started “walking” up it.

He’s climbing my head like a damned mountain climber, she realized internally.

Duncan’s left foot stepped onto Alyssia’s right cheek, his left coming down just above her earlobe. She felt his soles step up the side of her head, dragging a few stray hairs under them with each footfall. It didn’t take long for pull himself above eye level, his tiny toes tickling her forehead each time his foot touched down and lifted up again.

Finally, she felt him pull himself onto the top of her head, rolling over on his back near the center of her scalp. She could almost picture him holding his hands in the air while laying down on a bed of her lustrous hair.

“Fuck you!” Duncan cheered happily. “I did it!”

He really did it, Alyssia confirmed to herself. How the fuck did he actually do it?

She was left in awe of Duncan’s accomplishment. Of course, she’d never let him know how proud of him she was. That wasn’t their way, after all.

“Congratulations,” Alyssia said in a sarcastic tone. “You’ve climbed to the grand height of 5’6”, not even as tall as you used to be, as you always liked to remind me every time I wore heels.”

She felt his arms fall onto her scalp and hear him groan, and her heart sank a little bit at the sound. Maybe, just this once, she could drop the routine and give him a little bit of honesty. Reaching for the top of her head, she gently plucked him up and brought a clearly exhausted Duncan before her eyes.

“Hey,” Alyssia said, flashing him a warm smile. “You did good.”

That smile morphed into a smirk before Duncan could respond.

“Even if my legs are cramping up from standing there for so long,” Alyssia said. “Maybe pick up the pace next time?”

As he chuckled at her words, she could tell by her smile that the message got through. At his request, she took him to his shoebox and refilled his makeshift tub with warm water so that he could take a bath before turning in early for the night.

After they said their goodbyes, Alyssia left the apartment, locking the door on her way out. She hurried home, eager to put all that lubrication leaking out of her pussy to good use.

********

“Duncan!” Callie’s voice penetrated the walls of the shoebox at full volume. “I gotta … gotta talk to you! Yeah, I gotta talk to you! Get out here!”

Duncan shot out of bed, confused at first about what was happening. He could feel the vibration of footsteps send heavy quakes throughout his home, knocking a few pictures from the walls. As the shaking finally stopped, his brain processed who was calling for him.

It’s been a while since I could actually feel Callie walking, he thought. Wait, did she sound drunk?

Duncan’s ceiling disappeared into the sky before it was tossed away, leaving him with the sight of Callie staring down at him, her eyes glossy and red.

Yep, he told himself. Definitely drunk.

Callie’s right hand came for Duncan at a speed he didn’t expect from her, and he found himself wrapped in her fist with only his head and shoulders sticking out. As she carried him up to her face, her grip on him tightened, making it hard to breathe.

“A little tight, Callie,” he barely managed to get out.

Callie didn’t respond or give any indication that she heard Duncan, except for the fact that her fingers loosened their hold on him considerably. He was still snug in her hand, but he was much more comfortable.

And she was worried about fucking up with me? he laughed to himself. She even makes sure I’m good when she fucking drunk!

“I should be getting fucked right now!” Callie yelled. “Look at me!”

Without changing her expression or level of intensity, she lowered her voice after seeing Duncan cringe at its previous volume. She also lowered him past her full chest and exposed abs, past her skirt and down her endless legs, then all the way back up to her face again, all at a pace that started too fast but slowed as he showed signs of discomfort and motion sickness.

“Don’t I look like I should be getting fucked right now?” Callie asked. “I do look like I should be getting fucked right now! Why aren’t I getting fucked right now, Duncan?”

Duncan stared back at her blankly, unsure of the answer she was looking for.

“It’s because of you!” Callie stuck out her left index finger and put its tip inches from Duncan’s face as she spoke. “You ruined my night!”

She pulled her left hand away and started walking toward the bed, nearly tripping a couple of times throughout the short trip.

“There were plenty of hot guys at the club tonight,” Callie’s tone softened. “But every one of them just didn’t do it for me.”

She sat down on the side of the bed, holding Duncan in front of her breasts.

“Every time one of them came up to me, all I could think was, ‘He’s not as smart as Duncan,’ or ‘He’s not as funny as Duncan’ or ‘He’s not as cool as Duncan.’ And none of them were as hot as you,” Callie said as she looked down at him.

Duncan could feel his face turning red.

“Thank you?” he responded.

Callie scowled at him.

“No, that’s bad!” she said. “You ruined other guys for me! Even pick up lines were just annoying! Guys always come up to me with the dumbest fucking lines, sometimes even ones that are a little gross, but I used to find them funny and kind of cute. I was mean to a guy who used a line on me tonight. I’m not a mean person, Duncan!”

Duncan wasn’t sure what to make of this drunken rant, but he did feel bad that Callie had apparently had such a rough night. He couldn’t say he was disappointed that she didn’t hook up with anybody, though. It’s a reality he knew he had to face eventually, though, as she was far too perfect to remain single for too long.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, unsure what he was sorry about yet still truly meaning it.

The apology only appeared to make Callie more flustered.

“Don’t apologize!” she said. “You didn’t … I mean … Urgh! You don’t understand! Tonight I was supposed to take my mind off of …”

Callie’s eyelids fell over her eyes, and she started to fall backward. The hand holding Duncan slowly lowered itself to the mattress, touching down softly after her body had already crashed onto the bed. The fingers holding him opened up, but her palm landed on him before he could move away.

He tried to squirm out from under her hand, but he was stuck there, with only his head sticking out from under the side of her hand. He didn’t even bother calling to her, as he knew she would be out until morning, when the hangover was going to hit her hard!

Eh, I can think of less comfortable places to be, Duncan mused.

He allowed the warmth of Callie’s hand to take him as he lay his head on its right side against the bedspread and drifted to sleep.

********

The early afternoon sunlight shining through Callie’s bedroom window and onto her face was finally enough to rouse her back to consciousness.

Her head was killing her! She shielded her eyes from the light with her left forearm as she started to come to. At first, it came as a surprise to her that her legs were hanging off the side of the bed and that she was wearing the same clothes she wore the night before.

Then Callie started to remember the previous night’s events. Drinking too much at the club. Being unnecessarily rude to every guy who tried to talk to her. Coming home drunk. Calling for Duncan and—

“Duncan!” she cried out as she sat up.

As she found him lying there, trapped under her right hand, Callie started to feel sick. She had just grabbed him out of his house and yelled at him. She still couldn’t remember what it was she was so mad about or what she said to him, but she was sure he had to have been terrified.

“Duncan?” she called out as she lifted her right hand and poked Duncan softly in the side with her forefinger. “Oh God! Please be okay!

How could she have been so careless! Had she hurt him? What if he’s scared of her now? Why couldn’t she do anything right when it came to him? No wonder he didn’t love her back.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Duncan said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the back of his right hand. “And I’m fine.”

Callie breathed a sigh of relief. He was okay. But just because he was fine physically didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered by what happened. She couldn’t imagine how humiliating and upsetting it must have been to be manhandled like that. All that trust she built up with him? Gone, just like that.

“I think we should talk about last night, though,” Duncan said as he stood up. “But do you think we could do it in the kitchen? I don’t have to look up at you as much from the dining room table.”

He’s pissed, Callie thought. What if … what if he’s mad enough or scared enough to move out? Ada, Alyssia, or Monica would room with him for sure.

“Okay,” she said, offering Duncan her right palm.

He climbed on, and Callie, despite everything, enjoyed the feeling of his feet against her skin as he walked to the center and sat down. She wanted to savor it, in case this was the last time he would let her carry him.

The walk to the kitchen was slow, but Duncan didn’t complain. Maybe he thought it was because of her hangover? She was just thankful that he granted her the time to enjoy the trip.

They arrived in the kitchen, and Callie lowered her hand to the table, allowing Duncan to step off. She sat in the nearest chair, folding her hands in front of her body on the table. She decided she would start the conversation in the hope that maybe if she showed how sorry she was, he would be more likely to forgive her and stay with her.

“I know I fucked up last night,” she said. “I get that I scared the shit out of you and that I probably hurt you more than you’re lettin’ on. You’ve got this whole ‘whatever will be will be’ thing goin’ on, but I know that what I did went past that. I’m so, so sorry! I promise you it won’t happen again.”

Duncan stared at her with a blank expression.

“Uh, that’s not what I was going to talk about, but, for the record, you didn’t scare me at all last night. All my shit is still in there,” he chuckled. “You weren’t as gentle with me as you usually were, but you were trying to be, and I never thought I wasn’t safe with you.”

Callie couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Really?” she asked. “You weren’t even a little scared? I don’t remember much, but I’m pretty sure I yelled at you.”

Duncan shook his head.

“Not even a little. You were the most considerate drunk person I’ve ever seen,” he said. “But since you mentioned the yelling, I was hoping to talk about what you were yelling at me about.”

Callie’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t even thought about that. Those words were lost to her, and she was so busy assuming he was upset with being handled by her drunk self that she hadn’t even stopped to consider that she might have said something worthy of discussion.

“Wh-what did I say?” she asked nervously.

Duncan’s expression was unreadable, causing even more anxiety to build up inside her.

“You told me I ruined your night,” he said. “You said some very nice things about me in a very mean way.”

Duncan’s reminder triggered her memory, and a lot of what she said came flooding back into her brain. Oh God! She damn near confessed to him! As a drunken mess at that! She was so humiliated.

He must think I’m a fuckin’ joke, she told herself. Just some dumb kid with a crush.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Duncan said. “I just wanted to make sure things weren’t awkward between us now. So I figured the best way to do that is to let you know up front that I know none of that was real.”

Not real? What did he mean by that?

“You don’t think I meant what I said?” Callie asked him.

Duncan gave her a sad smile.

“You really going to make me say it?” he said. “Callie, I don’t know if I’d even have a chance with you if I were my actual size. At three inches tall? Of course you wouldn’t be interested. You said so yourself last night; you had a ton of ‘hot guys’ coming after you in that club. Regular-sized guys.”

Duncan paused for a moment, lowering his head and looking off to the side.

“So while I appreciate those compliments you screamed at me before you passed out, I already know it would be moot for me to try and compete with that field,” he said.

Callie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This whole time, Duncan just assumed he didn’t have a shot with her? Does that mean … would he have asked her out already if he thought he did?

“It wouldn’t be,” she said quietly. “Moot, I mean. It wouldn’t be moot.”

As Callie gazed down at him with questioning eyes, she saw Duncan turn back to her, a shocked expression etched into his face. She could almost see the gears turning in his head, piecing together what was happening. She loved how his mind worked!

She just hoped that she read between the lines of what he was saying the right way. She was still worried that he didn’t actually feel the same way, that maybe he was using his size as an excuse to let her down easy or something. So she could feel her heart almost jump out of her chest when she saw Duncan walking toward her folded hands.

Duncan stopped in front of her hands, laying his own right hand on top of the middle joint of her right index finger. He rubbed it slightly as he looked up into her eyes with a comforting smile.

“Are you a carpenter?” he asked. “Because you’re giving me wood.”

Callie blinked. Then she started to chuckle, which turned into full-throated laughter. She couldn’t stop laughing. A feeling of warm giddiness had overtaken her. He did feel the same way! She wanted to kick herself for all the nonsense and worrying she let get in the way, but she was too happy to dwell on such things at the moment.

“Well, now that you’ve successfully been wooed,” Duncan said as her laughter finally subsided. “Callie Voss, would you do me the honor of letting me take you out tomorrow night?”

Take her out? What did he mean by that? Where would they go? What if other people saw him? How would they—

Fuck it, Callie told herself. No more worries.

“I’d like that,” she answered with an infectious smile.

Chapter End Notes:

Next time on Roomies: Smut galore!


Callie vs. the Delectable Date

Word Count: 10576
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

I'm pretty excited about this one! This is my favorite chapter in the story so far, and I've been looking forward to writing it since before I started writing the story at all!

Ada was sweating as she ran through Monica’s vast kitchen, abandoning the blender as Duncan called her over to the stove.

“You haven’t lowered the heat on those leeks and shallots yet?!” he asked before taking a deep breath. “Okay, we still might be okay. The olive oil should stop them from burning.”

Ada cringed at Duncan’s words.

“Oh, um, actually …” she spoke hesitantly, “I, uh I-I didn’t use the olive oil. I saw a recipe online that only mentioned caramelizing it in butter, so I thought maybe you misspoke when you said to use olive oil.”

Duncan stared daggers at Ada for a few seconds, then covered his face with his right palm, groaning in frustration. She set her right palm down on the white Calacatta marble countertop, looking down at Duncan with a nervous smile.

“But this is just pairing with the sauce, right?” she asked. “As long as the lobster is good—”

Duncan threw his hands in the air, causing Ada to stop mid-sentence.

“The sauce is crucial to the dish!” he shouted. “You want it to stand out! Fuck!”

Duncan picked up a stray clump of homemade dough leftover from the ravioli sitting off to the side, waiting to be boiled, and threw it as hard as he could at the brass tile backsplash. Ada watched as the tiny ball of dough exploded upon impact. She nervously wiped the mess away with her left forefinger’s tip.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her head.

The anger drained from Duncan’s face.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m asking a lot out of you here, and you’ve been great! It’s just …”

Ada raised her head and looked Duncan in the eye, eager to hear what was really bothering him.

“It’s so frustrating,” he said. “This is the first time since right after I shrank that I can’t do something that I really want to. I was so worried about survival most of the time that I never thought about how much stuff I can’t do anymore.”

Duncan walked toward Ada’s right hand and placed his own on the knuckle of her index finger.

“You’re actually not doing that bad a job, especially since you said you don’t really cook,” he explained. “But I know I could do it better if I had my size back, and I was starting to take my frustrations out on you. You don’t deserve that.”

Ada flashed Duncan a comforting smile.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I know you just want everything to be perfect for tonight, and so I think it’s actually pretty sweet that you get so worked up. I hope I find someone who feels that way about me one day.”

Duncan tilted his head and gave Ada a questioning look.

“You never had a guy cook for you before?” he asked.

Ada shook her head, sending her straight hair swinging back and forth, the ends of the black strands just tickling the tops of her shoulders.

“I’ve never had a guy before,” she answered.

Duncan shot her an incredulous look.

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” he asked. “I can’t believe that.”

Ada shrugged her shoulders.

“Why not?” she asked. “I hate being around people, and I’m not exactly dateable anyway.”

Duncan’s expression turned from stunned to stern.

“Are you fucking with me?” he responded. “You’re the smartest person I know, you’re funny whether you’re trying to be or not, and your heart is literally bigger than me. Not to mention some of the stuff you can do with your tongue. That’s about as dateable as it gets!”

Ada’s face grew a little redder with each of Duncan’s compliments.

“Thanks for that,” she said. “And don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t just assume you saying that means you want me to sex you up.”

Duncan burst out laughing.

“Maybe don’t say sex you up the next time you talk about sex,” he said after settling down. “It sounds a little too Russian mail-order bride for most people’s tastes.”

Undeterred, Ada gave Duncan a double thumbs up.

“Got it!” she cheered. “Now, judging by the time, it looks like we can take one more crack at those leeks and shallots, if you want to walk me through the caramelization process again.”

Ada cleaned out the skillet and started the process once again, this time making sure to use butter and olive oil. The two of them continued to move about the kitchen, Duncan sticking to small tasks on the countertop, as they prepared for his date later that evening.

********

“So you think you guys are going to fuck tonight?” Alyssia asked, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

Duncan stuck his head slightly out of her pants pocket, holding on to the edge to keep from falling back down as she continued to stride toward the apartment door.

“Jesus, that’s rude, even for you,” he chided, staring up at the underside of her petite chin. “Also, aren’t you worried that people are going to think you’re talking to yourself?”

Alyssia glanced down at him with a smug smirk stretching across her lips. Her left hand was holding a phone to her ear.

“I know you must have a hard time seeing from all the way down there, but I’ve got that covered,” she said, pointing to the phone with her right index finger.

Duncan almost lost his grip as Alyssia gave her right leg a little shake. Her giggling filled the air as she kept moving.

“You enjoying yourself?” he asked, trying to shake the dizziness out of his head.

Alyssia, having arrived at her destination, knocked on the apartment door three times.

“You know, I really am,” she replied, grinning down at him.

The two of them looked back in the direction of the door as it started to open. Alyssia nearly dropped her phone as both of their jaws hit the floor at the sight that greeted them on the other side.

“Ooh, somebody’s a little early,” Callie said. “I like that! Come on in!”

She was wearing a tight, shimmering crimson dress with thin straps, stopping just above the knee as the material held her thighs in a tight hug. Her lipstick was dark red to match, with only light makeup applied on the rest of her face, which was framed with wavy blonde hair, rather than her normal straight hairstyle.

“So where ya keepin’ my date?” Callie asked Alyssia as she walked into the apartment, the blonde’s eyes scanning the shorter girl’s body until they locked with Duncan’s. “There he is. Gimme!”

Callie stuck out her right hand, elbow bent, as though she were waiting to be presented with a piece of candy, her fingers wiggling in excitement. Alyssia, still speechless at the vision before her, reached into her pocket without taking her eyes off Callie, fished out Duncan, and set him in the middle of the taller girl’s palm.

“You look incredible,” a breathless Duncan said.

Alyssia nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, you guys!” Callie said, turning her attention to Duncan as she lifted him up to her face. “But are you sure this is okay? I know you told me to pick out something nice and not to worry about the price, but …”

Duncan shook his head.

“Hey, if we’re going to start dating, you’re going to need to let me spoil myself from time to time,” he said.

Duncan walked to the edge of Callie’s palm closest to her body, peeking over it and into the generous cleavage calling out to him from below.

“You mean spoil me from time to time,” she said with a cheeky smile.

Realizing how blatant he had been, Duncan looked up, relieved to see a happy Callie staring back at him.

“Yeah, whatever,” he responded with a grin.

Callie chuckled at his answer.

“Okay, so where are we goin’?” she asked. “This surprise shit is killin’ me!”

Duncan glanced back at Alyssia, clearing his throat to finally break the trance that had overtaken her.

“Oh, right!” she said. “I’m your driver tonight, so if you guys would please come with me, we can get your night started.”

Callie lowered Duncan down to chest level as she focused more on Alyssia’s appearance. Duncan had no complaints about his new position.

“Okay, so that explains the chauffeur's uniform,” Callie said.

Alyssia pointed at Duncan with a scowl on her face.

“He made me dress like this!” she yelled.

Callie glanced down at Duncan, the couple exchanging mischievous expressions.

“Aw, you made her embarrass herself for me?” she asked him rhetorically. “That’s so sweet!”

Alyssia let loose a frustrated grunt.

“I hate you guys,” she mumbled. “Come on, let’s go already!”

Callie closed her hand around Duncan as she followed Alyssia out of the apartment and toward the secretary’s car.

********

Sitting in the roomy back seat of Alyssia’s Lexus, Callie couldn’t help but examine her date closely as she held him before her eyes.

“I shoulda said it earlier, but you look really handsome tonight,” she told Duncan.

Callie rolled his body between her right forefinger and thumb to make sure that her eyes drank in every millimeter of him. His plain white shirt was partially covered by her attempt at a blazer, the navy blue coat, as well as the matching pants, looking pretty dapper, in her opinion.

“Whoever designed your clothes has, like, an amazing eye,” she said with a smirk.

Callie was ready for whatever witty retort Duncan was about to throw at her.

“Yeah, she does,” he said. “She’s the best!”

Callie’s heart fluttered. Hearing Duncan praise her, no matter the reason, made her feel warm inside. As much as she enjoyed their banter, she’d happily accept his compliments every time.

Maybe she should reward such flattery.

“So I know you don’t like havin’ to be held in my hand in the car,” Callie said. “You said I didn’t need my purse, so I didn’t bring it. But I do have another place I can put you, one that’s, like, nice and … secure.”

Duncan had a puzzled look on his face, one that she found to be absolutely adorable!

“Where’s that?” he asked cautiously.

Without answering, Callie flipped him in her fingers so that he was facing away from her. With her left hand, she pulled on her left breast, opening up her cleavage. She lowered him into the grand divide, submerging his lower half into the darkness between her tits. She then released her left boob, letting it slam into him.

As her chest jiggled, she could feel Duncan’s little fingers grabbing the skin atop each breast in an effort to gain some stability, having to bite her lip to keep from moaning at the exhilarating sensation. By the time everything had settled, he had sunk a little deeper, buried up to his chest in girlflesh.

“There,” Callie said. “Way better than a seat belt.”

Alyssia chose that moment to glance back at her passengers, causing Callie to blush in embarrassment at the fact that she had briefly forgotten that Duncan and she weren’t alone.

“Oh yeah,” Alyssia said, flashing the couple a knowing smile before focusing back on the road. “You guys are definitely fucking tonight.”

Callie could hear Duncan yelling something at Alyssia, but the blonde wasn’t paying enough attention to make out the words. She looked ahead at Alyssia, who either couldn’t hear Duncan or was just pretending she couldn’t, their driver’s words bouncing around inside her head.

Well, she’s not wrong, Callie mused, smiling from ear to ear.

There was a lot about the date that she didn’t know. Duncan had insisted on planning everything, and she trusted that he knew what he was doing, leaving her completely in the dark as to how much of the night was going to go down. But she already knew how it was going to end.

She was going to fuck Duncan’s brains out.

The rest of the trip was pleasant, with Callie and Duncan idly chatting and Alyssia chiming in once in a while. Occasionally, Callie would casually adjust her boobs, holding back a giggle as she felt Duncan struggle to stay on the surface as she pretended to not notice.

Callie was surprised when the car came to a stop directly in front of the main entryway of Shale Holdings. Alyssia got out of the car and walked around to hold the door open for Callie, who, without warning, shoved Duncan entirely into her cleavage with her right thumb in case someone walked by and risked seeing him.

Callie dug him out from her tits as Alyssia and her got on the elevator in the lobby. Alyssia pressed the button for the 46th floor, which Callie remembered as being the location of Monica’s office.

Alyssia allowed Callie to step off the elevator first, Duncan cupped in her right hand at navel level. Monica emerged from her office as Alyssia stepped away to another part of the floor.

“Welcome,” Monica greeted the couple. “I’ll be serving you this evening. Now if the two of you would please follow me, I’ll escort you to your table.”

Callie nodded and followed Monica as the executive started walking back to her office. With Monica, her hero, playing the role of server for them, this was already the best date Callie had ever been on, and it was literally just getting started.

Once the three of them entered the darkened office, Callie immediately noticed how different it looked. Gone were the filing cabinets, bookshelves, and even Monica’s desk. The only thing in the room was a single-person dining table and chair placed near the glass wall overlooking the city.

The table was covered with a gold ornate white floral tablecloth, with a five-arm crystal candelabra standing in the center. Each candle was lit, a rosewood scent wafting from the flames and into the open air. A matching table and chair scaled to Duncan’s size was placed midway between the lone full-sized chair and the candelabra.

But while the candlelight provided the only light originating from the room, it was the city skyline, on full display through the transparent wall, that provided most of the lighting. The largest building within their view was highlighted with purple lighting, while lights from the windows of several other skyscrapers lit up the night with pretty shades of yellow.

“What the fuck?” Callie said in breathless awe as she stood by the door, taking in the scene before her with widened eyes.

Monica, who was already waiting for the couple by their table, couldn’t help but let out an uncharacteristic giggle at her friend’s reaction.

“Your table is ready,” she said, resuming her sense of professionalism. “If the lovely couple would please take their seats, I would be happy to bring you your appetizers for this evening’s meal.”

Callie regained her senses just enough to do as she was asked, sitting in her seat and setting Duncan down next to his. Monica left the room, only to return right away with a Caesar salad on a plate meant for Callie and a tiny portion overflowing from a much smaller plate scaled for Duncan, which Monica set on his table pinched between her right forefinger and thumb.

“As the two of you can see, I’ve taken the liberty of commissioning one off the companies under Shale Holdings to design furniture, plateware, and silverware fit for someone Duncan’s size for this occasion,” Monica explained. “I believe the silverware came out a bit larger than we were hoping, but I believe it should still be usable. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

After Duncan assured her that it was fine and thanked her for the effort, Monica took her leave. Callie and Duncan then dug into the delicious salad as they began to idly chat about various topics.

********

Monica entered the employee break room, where she found Ada and Alyssia talking about a Mandalorian, whatever that was. The two girls had already helped themselves to some of the lobster ravioli, and they had a plate waiting for Monica as well.

“Are you sure there’s enough left for Callie and Duncan?” she asked Ada.

Ada nodded her head eagerly as she chewed her latest bite.

“There’s plenty left,” she said as soon as she swallowed. “Not only that, but there’s also the lobster bisque and Maryland crab cakes that we’re not even touching.”

Satisfied with Ada’s answer, Monica sat down, picked up her fork, and savored her first bite.

“This is positively scrumptious!” she complimented Ada. “You made this yourself?”

Ada shook her head fiercely.

“Oh no, I couldn’t have done this if Duncan hadn’t talked me through everything,” she said. “I’m pretty hopeless in the kitchen normally, and we had to redo a couple parts of the dish until I got everything just right.”

Monica flashed Ada a warm smile.

“Don’t sell your talents short,” Monica said. “Even if you had help, it was your hands that made this delicious meal.”

Monica looked over to Alyssia, who only nodded in enthusiastic agreement, as she was unable to talk because her mouth was stuffed to capacity with ravioli. After Alyssia swallowed down her mouthful, the two women gave each other a knowing glance before turning back to Ada.

“Ada,” Monica began, “if you don’t mind, I would like to address—”

“We’re sorry!” Alyssia cut her boss off.

Monica sent Alyssia a stern glare, but the secretary met it by sticking out her tongue in defiance. Monica gave a defeated sigh as she turned her attention back to Ada.

“It’s exactly as Alyssia said, rude though it was,” Monica said. “We may have slightly overreacted when we discovered what happened between Duncan and you during your first encounter together. I hope you can forgive us for any mistreatment you may have suffered because of us.”

Ada’s face lit up.

“You mean you guys like me now?!” she said, barely able to contain her excitement.

Monica resisted the urge to roll her eyes, although she had to admit to herself that there was something cute about the girl’s enthusiasm.

“Yes, we like you,” Monica reluctantly confirmed.

Ada sprung up from her seat and hurried around the table. She nearly bumped the nearby countertop with her hip as she rounded the end of the table and ended up behind Monica and Alyssia. Standing between them, Ada leaned down and put her arms around each woman’s shoulders, pulling them toward her.

Monica was about to complain, but she looked over and was stunned to notice Alyssia actually leaning into the hug. The CEO gave in and did the same, surprised at how nice it felt to do so.

After Ada released the hug, she returned to her seat and the three girls talked as they enjoyed the excess food Duncan had instructed Ada to cook for them. After a while, Ada excused herself after asking where the nearest bathroom was located.

“Okay, so I figured you didn’t want to discuss this in front of Ada,” Alyssia said, pulling a manila folder out of a bag sitting beside her chair. “By the way, you do know that flash drives are a thing, right? Or encrypted email?”

Alyssia held out the folder toward Monica, who grabbed it, wasting no time in opening it.

“I’d rather have the information in my hand than at my fingertips,” Monica said as she browsed the contents of the folder. “It makes for a much more personal experience.”

Monica swore that she could hear Alyssia roll her eyes.

“Wait,” Monica said, her eyes zeroing in on a single paragraph. “Have you confirmed this?”

Alyssia shook her head.

“It was a bitch just getting that. It was buried pretty deep. Your boy comes from money,” she said. “But it’s Kristie, so I don’t believe it.”

But Monica did believe it. She knew it was true the moment she read it. Her heart sank and a sense of dread overtook her.

“Besides, it doesn’t change anything,” Alyssia said, sounding unconvinced herself. “It doesn’t make all the shit she did okay all of a sudden.”

Monica closed the folder, not willing to stare at it anymore. She put it into her own bag, which was beside her own chair, maintaining her composure and burying her feelings down deep, just like always. She would get to the bottom of this, just not now. Not tonight.

Ada returned almost as soon as the file was out of view, and the trio resumed their conversation as though nothing had changed.

********

“Okay, so you have to tell me,” Callie said after swallowing a bite of crab cake, “Where did you order this food from? It’s the best I’ve ever eaten!”

Duncan finished a bite of the tiny section of ravioli on his plate, enjoying the crumb of lobster inside.

“I talked Ada through cooking everything,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I couldn’t do it myself, obviously, but she helped me out, even though she didn’t feel comfortable in the kitchen.”

Callie sat her bisque-filled spoon back in the bowl as she stared down at Duncan with eyes wide and jaw agape.

“Hold up,” she said. “You’re tellin’ me that you talked someone who sucks at cookin’ through makin’ this five-star restaurant food? Where the fuck did you learn to cook? Cooking school? Ooh, or do you come from a long line of chefs or some shit?”

Duncan stared down at his plate, too embarrassed to look at Callie as he revealed his secret.

“Food Network,” he mumbled.

Callie blinked a couple of times, as if processing the information fed to her as easily as she fed herself another ravioli.

“Food Network?” she said. “You learned how to cook like this from watchin’ TV?!”

Looking up at Callie, a sad smile overtook Duncan’s countenance.

“I was a system kid growing up,” he explained. “I bounced around a lot of homes because I was kind of a troublemaker. So I wasn’t allowed to watch a lot of stuff; they were worried about bad influences and all that. So most of them just sat me down in front of the TV and put on Food Network or HGTV. Apparently chefs and realtors are the ideal role models.”

Callie had a questioning look on her face.

“System kid?” she asked. “What’s that?”

Duncan didn’t much like talking about his childhood. There weren’t a lot of good memories there. But if Callie wanted to know more, he was wiling to do it.

“I was in the foster system since I was four,” he said. “Most of the foster parents did for the money the state gives them for the kid or for an extra pair of hands to put to work. The first time I tried to copy cooking something I saw on Food Network, that family made me cook every meal. Most of the ones after that did, too.”

Callie gasped.

“So these people all just put you to work?” she said, a little anger in her voice. “Like a fuckin’ slave?!”

Duncan shrugged.

“Kind of,” he said. “I mean, I didn’t like moving, and most families put up with me longer if I made myself useful, so it wasn’t so bad.”

The water Duncan could see hiding behind Callie’s dazzling Hazel eyes was enough to tell him that his words had done little to calm her down.

“The last family I was with was actually pretty alright,” he continued. “I stayed with them for the last two years of high school. They were a nice family. The Brenadines. It was almost like I had a real mom, dad, and little sister for a little while.”

Callie’s frown curved into a smile.

That’s really nice!” she said. “You took their name, even, which is pretty cool. Do you still talk to them? Or, uh, I mean, did you before you got tiny?”

Duncan shook his head.

“Nah, they stuck with me, but I gave them a lot of trouble, too,” he said. “I figure they were glad to get me out of their hair. The last thing I want to do is bother them and stress them out. Especially now.”

Taking his eyes off Callie, Duncan looked off to the side, admiring the evening skyline.

“As for the last name thing, yeah, they were cool enough for me to pretend to be one of them for a little while,” he said. “But honestly, anything’s better than Smith. My birth parents went out of their way to make sure someone lost all the paperwork that might have helped me figure out who they were, so I got stuck with the most generic last name in the country.”

Even without looking her way, Duncan could hear Callie sniffle just a tiny bit.

“Do you … do you ever wonder who they are?” she asked. “Your birth parents, I mean.”

Duncan turned away from the skyline, showing Callie his blank expression.

“No,” he said flatly before returning to a more jovial demeanor. “But since you got to dig into my family history, it’s only fair that I get to do the same to you now, right?”

Callie chuckled nervously as she started to talk about her parents and how she grew up. Duncan felt a little guilty once he saw that she didn’t like talking about her family either, but he had to change the subject for both their sakes. His depressing background was bringing down the night.

They were able to move off of talking about her family fairly quickly, and the rest of their conversation during the main course was a lot lighter. Once both of them had finished, Monica returned to the room, almost as though she had a sixth sense for these things, and took their plates away.

“So do you think you’ve got room for dessert?” Duncan asked Callie.

She very quickly went from holding her stomach to nodding excitedly.

“I can’t even imagine what you had Ada make,” she said. “Ooh, is it tiramisu? I bet it’s tiramisu. It sounds fancy enough!”

Duncan laughed so hard that he almost fell out of his chair.

“Actually,” he said as his chuckling subsided, “I cheated for dessert.”

At that moment, Alyssia entered the room, holding the door open as Monica wheeled in a tall three-tiered chocolate fountain. As Monica guided the five-foot-tall apparatus closer to the table, Callie noticed shelving built in around the base of the fountain itself, which was three feet from the ground.

On each side, a shelf held a different food item to dip into the ever-flowing chocolate: strawberries, marshmallows, pineapples, and tiny doughnuts. Seeing this display, as well as the fountain itself, Callie couldn’t help but clap and squeal as it arrived beside the table.

“I take it I did good?” Duncan asked as Monica and Alyssia left the room.

Callie stared down at him lovingly as she nodded.

“Well go ahead, dig in!” Duncan said.

Callie’s smile faded slightly.

“But what about you?” she asked. “Aren’t you gonna have some?”

Duncan chuckled once again.

“That’s really not an option at my size,” he said. “But that’s no problem. I’ll be happy enough seeing you enjoy it enough for the both of us.”

Callie frowned. She opened her mouth to say something but stopped. That frown quickly reversed itself into a mischievous smirk as she glanced at the fountain before her eyes returned to Duncan.

Then her right hand casually reached for him.

Duncan felt the familiar feeling of Callie’s right forefinger and thumb pinching his sides as she plucked him up from his seat. He briefly glanced at the tabletop rapidly falling away beneath him before giving his date a curious look.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a casual tone.

Callie’s expression was smug as she answered.

“I’m enjoying it for the both of us,” she said.

It wasn’t until Callie’s left hand approached him that Duncan started piecing together what she meant. She adjusted her grip on him as she slipped his jacket off of him, tossing it aside with that left hand. His shirt was next as she took her time sliding it over his head.

He could hear a satisfied moan hang in the air as her thumb trailed behind the hem of his shirt, gliding over his torso as its fingerprint teased his well-defined six-pack and firm pecs before lovingly brushing against his left cheek. The sight of her biting her lower lip hard greeted him as the veil of white was finally lifted from his eyes.

Callie’s probing fingers moved on to Duncan’s lower half, giving his right thigh a gentle squeeze before tracing down to his pant leg and pulling the pants off of his legs. She returned for his boxers, her left thumb touching down on his cock while her index finger landed on his tight ass.

The two digits playfully rubbed his sensitive areas in a circular motion for a few seconds, and a pleasurable moan escaped his own lips as he closed his eyes in delight. Her fingertips moved too soon to his boxers’ right pant hole, pulling them off as well and leaving him fully nude in her fingers.

Duncan couldn’t help but find Callie’s self-satisfied smirk cute as she hungrily stared down at him. She took her eye off him for only a split second as she turned to consider the fountain. She stuck her left index finger into the bottom tier of the downpouring confectionery goodness, pulling its chocolate-covered tip out and sticking it in her mouth.

“Mmmm,” she moaned as she removed her finger from her lips with a pop. “Room temperature. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t too hot.”

Before Duncan could wonder what the chocolate could possibly be too hot for, he had his answer. Callie eagerly dunked him into the same chocolate waterfall, his body becoming drenched in the sweet, sticky liquid as it rained down all over him.

As he was removed from the ever-flowing chocolate, he felt himself rising higher as well. He wiped some of it from his eyes with the back of his hand and found himself dangling in front of gorgeous hazel eyes gleaming with excitement.

Then Callie tilted her head back.

Duncan was lowered toward her slightly parted lips. His feet touched down on her petite chin, his legs slipping across it in a chocolaty mess as he continued to descend. He felt intense suction on his fingers as her lips clamped down on his left wrist, gradually slurping his arm into her mouth.

With his shoulder sandwiched between dark red lips, he could feel the tip of Callie’s tongue overflow beyond his fingers as it pressed against his palm. That tip slithered past the palm and along the underside of his wrist, a thin trail of saliva replacing the chocolate coating covering his skin.

The tip stopped where Duncan’s bicep met her lips, the top of her tongue plowing back through the chocolate along the side of his arm. A guttural moan vibrated through his whole body as she clearly enjoyed his flavor dressed in chocolate. The tip of her tongue went back for more, this time tracing its way over the top of his arm, with its body taking care of the other side on the way back.

Callie was slow in pulling his arm out of her mouth, the plush malleability of her lips massaging the muscles of their catch as they reluctantly gave it up. She pulled him out far enough to see the entirety of her face. Her chin and lips were dripping with chocolate as she wore a toothy grin.

“Delicious!” she said dreamily. “I think I’ll have some more!”

Duncan was maneuvered back before her open lips. He was left there for a moment, as Callie gave a slightly impatient “ahem,” not even attempting to make it sound like a legitimate attempt to clear her throat. It took him a minute to figure out what she wanted, but once it hit him, he straightened his right arm and pointed it directly at her mouth’s opening.

“There we go,” she said, giggling as she took his offering between her lips.

This time, Callie’s tongue started on the part of his arm nearest her lips. Its tip made slow, sensual swirls over every millimeter of Duncan’s bicep as it worked its way backward, going back and lazily lapping up whatever she missed after it reached his elbow. It resumed its circular pattern with his forearm, again going back licking away any excess chocolate.

The tip teased his palm, following it as she removed his arm from her mouth, tightening her lips’ hold on it as she pulled it away, resulting in a loud pop.

Callie kept him close to her lips this time, her tongue snaking out from between the two mounds of pillowy flesh and wiggling in anticipation as it made its way toward Duncan’s lower body. Its tip curled around his left ankle and lifted it so that his leg was perpendicular to his body, the bottom of his foot staring into the darkness of her mouth.

Her tongue tugged at his leg, and her right hand moved with the pressure and allowed it to pull the leg into her mouth. Her lips closed over his upper thigh in a seemingly air-tight seal, just brushing up against his now fully erect cock. As soon as she felt his hardened dick against her lips, she released an insides-rattling giggle from within her closed lips.

The tip of Callie’s tongue then went back to work, ticking the underside of Duncan’s foot, as well as his toes. It slipped over the side and lapped at his ankle. Her tongue inched its way up his shin, past his knee, and over the top of his thigh, doing the same in reverse for the bottom of his leg. Two solid licks took care of the sides.

As she finished removing his left leg from her still-closed lips, he already had his right one waiting for her, its knee bent and digging into his chest in order to fit within the narrow space between her lips and his body. Once the toes of his left foot felt fresh air, he thrust his impatient leg into the narrow opening they left behind.

Callie squealed in surprise, but Duncan could feel her lips curl into a smile as they pressed into his right thigh. Her tongue curled around his leg, almost swallowing it up by itself, with only the tops of his foot, shin, and thigh free from its slimy grasp. The tongue then rotated, its bottom sweeping over that untouched area and swiping away any chocolate remaining there.

She looped her tongue around the bottom and sides of his leg before taking it out of her mouth. Her taste buds kissed his thigh, calf, and heel as she pulled it out at a leisurely pace. The feeling was intense, leaving goosebumps all over his leg.

Once Duncan’s foot slid through Callie’s lips, she lifted him a little higher along her face, his own now level with her nose. Seeing an opportunity, Duncan swept his right palm over his chocolaty chest and dabbed the tip of her nose a few times.

“You little shit!” Callie laughed as she moved him beyond reach of her nose. “You’re dangerous with that chocolate on you. Can’t have that!”

Callie’s mouth opened, and her tongue draped over her bottom lip and onto her chocolate-covered chin. She brought Duncan’s crotch to the base of the outstretched appendage. With agonizing slowness, she dragged him downward, all the way down to the tip of her tongue, as his dick, midsection, chest, and face touched every taste bud.

It took everything he had for him to not cum right then and there, the rapture of each bud probing his erection, then following up with his entire upper body and face. But he had a suspicion that his girlfriend had more in store for him, and he didn’t intend to ruin the mood by cumming too soon.

After his front had been sufficiently cleaned in a single lick, Callie flipped him in her fingers, his backside now facing her. Duncan soon felt his butt dragging down her tongue, his back close behind, as she lowered him down the fleshy slide. Its tip took its time with his ass, lapping up and down each butt cheek in several slow strokes before moving on to his back and the back of his head.

A pair of quick licks to his sides left him completely free of chocolate.

Callie held him away from her face once more, giving him a longing look as her tongue glided across her lips, moistening them as well as lapping up any chocolate still on them. There was still chocolate on the tip of her chin and nose, making her look absolutely adorable.

“More!” she said, dipping him into the chocolate waterfall for a second time.

 Callie wasted no time in bringing Duncan back to her lips, taking his entire upper body, from his head to his hips, inside her mouth. His penis rested on her bottom lip, throbbing with anticipation of the coming release.

But inside those lips, she sucked the chocolate straight off his body. The intensity of the suction was enough to pull his hair in the direction of her throat, and he had to fight to keep his arms from stretching in that direction as well.

As the sucking continued, Callie’s tongue came back to play clean up once again. Its tip danced over Duncan’s pecks and worked its way down to his abs in deliberate strokes. It made its way up its right side and along his arm as she took her time to enjoy that particular lick.

Her tongue came to rest on top of him, taking up all of his back and head with plenty of room to spare. After slithering back and forth over him a few times, she finished up with another slow lick to his other side and arm.

Callie pulled Duncan out of her mouth and manipulated his body with her fingers, flipping his position so his feet were pointed toward her mouth rather than his head. She then shoved his lower half into an o-shaped hole she made with her lips, closing the hole over his lower abdomen.

As she started sucking on his legs and cock, her tongue forced his legs apart, scraping away the chocolate between them. Duncan grunted as the tip of her tongue met his own tip, lathering it in saliva as it made a single stroke down his shaft.

Callie relented as her tongue went about licking up whatever chocolate she couldn’t suck off his legs. Of course, that suction almost pulled the cum right out of his body as well, with his hardened dick feeling like a flag pole in a hurricane inside her mouth.

Then the moment came, and so did Duncan. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, and he burst right in her mouth. His cock trembled as it shot ropes of cum into the dark abyss, his body shuddering as he screamed in ecstasy. Her constant sucking sent every bit of his load down her throat before it could even land on her tongue.

After his body collapsed in post-orgasmic bliss, Callie pulled his legs out of her mouth and studied him closely, another smug smirk crossing her lips.

“No fair!” Callie said. “I didn’t even get to taste it. Like, what kind of desert is that? Looks like I’ll have to try it again!”

Again?

“Wait, wha—” he said, the movement of the hand holding him cutting off his words.

She moved Duncan back over to the chocolate fountain, but this time, she didn’t dunk him in the waterfall. Instead, she held him over the pooling chocolate at the bottom of the fountain. With a nonchalant flick of her wrist, she tossed him 10 feet or so by his standard down into the chocolate.

He landed into the creamy pool with a splash, quickly sinking beneath the surface. By the time he swam back to the surface, Callie’s fingers were already plucking him from the sea of chocolate. He was promptly brought back to familiar territory: Callie’s lips.

This time, however, she opened her mouth as widely as she could and tossed him inside: all of him.

Duncan tumbled onto Callie’s tongue, battling down a sense of primal fear as he took in his surroundings. While it was intimidating to be atop a tongue longer and nearly wider than he was tall and surrounded by glistening strands of chocolate-infused saliva stretching between forearm-sized teeth above and below him, his trust in her was enough to keep his fear at bay.

That didn’t stop him from letting loose a short, involuntary scream when those two rows of teeth loudly clacked shut, however.

With Callie’s lips closing on the other side of the enamel wall, Duncan was bathed in warm, moist darkness. He was on his stomach, his head near the tip of her tongue and his feet near the base … as well as the opening to her throat. The sound of her spit idly sloshing about filled his ears as though a river was flowing beneath him.

Just as he was starting to gather his wits about him, her tongue was on the move. The living carpet shifted underneath him, its tip sliding past his face and stopping at his chest. With unexpected suddenness, it shoved him upward, slamming him into the roof of her mouth. Rather than feeling overly painful, however, he likened it to being shoved into a wall while being embraced by a passionate lover.

Damn! How did she know I’m into the rough stuff? Duncan thought, feeling himself start to harden once more. I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. She always has a good read on me.

The tip of Callie’s tongue snaked its way further down his body, still holding it firm enough to keep him from sliding along with it. It teased his abdominal muscles before glossing over his erect penis, slowing down with a sensual lick as it eased its pushing pressure.

Her tongue stopped at his upper thighs, leaving Duncan’s upper half hanging over the edge of its tip. Then, it reversed course, passing over his cock again, this time with a playful flick, before crashing his upper body against her hard palate a second time as she laid him flat like she was squeezing the last bit of toothpaste from the tube.

He almost left his stomach behind as the tongue holding him suddenly dropped. He could hear her teeth gently scraping against each other as they parted, although her still-closed lips made it impossible for him to see this. He was then tossed to his right, landing hard into a wall that was slimy and pliable, yet firm at the same time.

Her cheek, Duncan realized as he got back to his feet. I’m on the inside of her—

Before he could finish that thought, Callie’s tongue came at him once again, this time going directly for his rock hard dick. Its tip lapped at his ball sack before working his shaft. It slapped his cock back and forth a few times, then moved on to licking up and down his erection with gradually increasing speed.

However, having just gotten off a very short while ago, Duncan’s cock wasn’t so quick to do so again. Soon, a frustrated, impatient grunt rose shook his whole body as it rose from Callie’s throat. He found himself on the move once again, her tongue carrying him more carefully this time as he was moved away from the cheek.

It came as a surprise when he felt his chest being lowered onto her bottom molars.

Callie’s top row of teeth came down with great caution, her top molars just digging into Duncan’s back. Their sharpness reminded him of nails being dug into his back, a kind of pain that made him smile with excitement as the exhilarating sensation stretched across his upper and lower back, as well as his chest.

Callie’s tongue went to work once again, this time the whole of it getting into the act. It’s center oscillated side to side, then forward to backward in alternating turns as her taste buds rubbed against his pulsating cock from every angle. The texture of each bump brought its own unique sense of euphoria as they took turns grinding against his throbbing manhood.

It was too much. There was no way he could last, so he didn’t.

As Duncan’s second load of the evening shot out from the slightly raw head of his penis, his vision went blurry for a second as his body struggled to process the immense pleasure flowing through it. A shiver ran down his spine as his arms, legs, and core tensed up for a split second, then fell in limp relief as a massive amount of cum shot out of his cock.

********

Got it! Callie thought, tasting Duncan’s cum as soon as it hit her tongue. There’s so much for how tiny he is!

She moaned in delight as she savored its flavor, swallowing it before raising her teeth off of Duncan’s back. She hoped she hadn’t been too rough with him in there, but she was pretty sure he was good.

There was no doubt in Callie’s mind that he liked to be pushed around a little during sex, and she was sure he would have let her know if he wasn’t into it. He was just so chill in her mouth, even now, as she absentmindedly cleaned all the chocolate that she hadn’t gotten of his body yet, that she knew he had enjoyed the experience.

With a few final licks for good measure, she was satisfied that he was chocolate-free. But as she was about to stick out her tongue and retrieve him from her mouth, the office door opened and Monica walked in, heading straight for Callie.

“I just thought I would check on the two of you and …” Monica trailed off as her eyes scanned the table. “Where’s Duncan?”

Callie froze, too embarrassed to tell Monica the truth. She had to think of a way to get out of this awkward situation.

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have time to do so.

Before Callie could think of anything to say or do, She felt the slightest bit of pressure on the inside of her lips. Duncan slipped his way between them, pulling himself out up to his abdomen, with his feet tickling her gums as they pushed into them.

“That was the single greatest sexual experience of my life!” he yelled as loudly as he could. “I don’t think I can go a third time, though, so I think I should ge—”

A flustered Callie crossed her eyes as she looked down, just making out a blurry Duncan sticking out of her mouth and looking in Monica’s direction. She nearly died as she saw him wave at her.

“Hey Monica,” he said. “How’s it—”

Callie’s right hand quickly shot toward her mouth, fingers straight and together. Her middle finger made contact with Duncan’s head and shoved him back inside before he could finish his sentence. Her fingers touched her lips, covering them daintily, as though she was excusing herself for a burp.

“Theck pleath,” she told a wide-eyed Monica, her cheeks almost as red as her dress.

********

For the second time in as many nights, Callie stumbled into her bedroom.

Her first step into the room went sideways, a surge of carnal pleasure catching her off guard as it ripped through her whole body. She caught herself against the wall with her right hand, leaning against it while she took a moment to collect herself. The feeling died down a bit but remained a constant presence, as it had for the entire ride home.

Kicking her heels off in random directions, Callie began to hike up her skirt as she hurriedly strode toward her bed. Once she squeezed the hem of it past the top of her panties, she reached for them. However, another surge hit her halfway to her destination, almost bringing her to her knees. She had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming.

She reached again, this time pulling back the waistband of her panties. She looked inside, finding Duncan standing on the lowest part of the fabric, his forearms holding apart the topmost portion of her outer lips while his hands fervently worked her clitoris.

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but you can stop now,” Callie’s voice quavered. “We’re here.”

Duncan didn’t remove his arms from her vulva, nor did his hands stop massaging her most sensitive area. Instead, he looked up at her with a sinister grin.

“Nope!” he answered. “Too fun!”

Callie tried to roll her eyes, but her euphoric state made mustering even that much concentration difficult.

“At least you didn’t go as hard in the car. Those ‘I fuckin’ knew it’ looks Aly was givin’ me on the ride back were bad enough without me screamin’ and flappin’ around the back seat,” she said. “Wh-what even is it you’re doin’ that’s almost makin’ me fall over?”

Duncan’s hands stopped, and, despite everything she had just said, Callie immediately missed those tiny fingers working her clit. She held back a slight whimper at their absence, determined to put up a strong front against her boyfriend’s teasing assault.

“Oh, you mean this?” he asked, moving his face past the opening in her labia majora.

Then Duncan bit her clit, and that strong front crumbled instantly.

“FUCK!” Callie screamed as loud as she could.

Her hands involuntarily released the waistband of her panties and allowed her dress to fall over them. Her knees shook, almost giving out on her. She bit her lower lip in a vain effort to keep the extreme stimulation from overtaking her.

Unlike the previous surges, however, Duncan kept biting this time.

Callie made it to the bed just in time to catch herself at its side with both hands, bending over as she became overwhelmed. From head to toe, her skin started to tingle. Every muscle in her body held tight, as though they were collectively holding their breath in anticipation of the big moment.

She then had one of the most intense orgasms of her life.

“Holy fuckin’ shit!” Callie yelled as her vision went white.

A wave of immense satisfaction coursed through her, causing her body to tremble as she finally fell to her knees. Her face was buried in her bedspread, unintentionally muffling her screams.

This is what heaven feels like, Callie thought, thankful that she at least had the foresight to not say such an embarrassing thing out loud.

The feeling disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving her with shallow breaths and relaxed, weakened muscles. Her first thought was about Duncan’s safety, but that concern was soon put to rest as she felt him squirming against her labia.

After taking a few minutes to recover, Callie pushed off the bed and stood up, ready to retrieve Duncan. However, the movement must have spurred something within him, because she soon felt his hands back on her now overly sensitive clit. She winced at the contact.

“Oh, I bet you think this shit is funny,” she lightly chided Duncan. “I think I’ve let you run things for long enough.”

Callie slid her dress over her head and hastily tossed it across the room. Both of her hands took aim for her panties.

“Well, if you won’t come out …” she said.

********

Covered in Callie’s natural lubrication and girlcum, Duncan decided to see how much he could push.

His girlfriend’s collapse onto the floor had quite literally rocked his world, sending him bouncing roughly between the fabric of her underwear and her erogenous zone, even with the limited space separating the two surfaces. It hadn’t taken him long to shake off the dazed senses and get back to work, however.

Let’s see if she’s up for another go, Duncan mused as he started with a few squeezes of her clitoris.

He could vaguely make out a series of words from high above, muffled beyond understanding by a couple layers of clothing. As he rubbed and grabbed at the smooth, wet orb in front of him, he noticed his surroundings become significantly brighter.

Just as he was piecing together that Callie had removed her dress, an abrupt jolt knocked him on this back as he fell into the now loosening hammock that was the front of her panties. It wasn’t until the fluorescent lighting of Callie’s bedroom shined down unhindered that he realized what was happening.

On either side of him, Duncan was surrounded by his lover’s succulent thighs. Not only that, but more and more of them were coming into view as he descended at a gradual pace. By the time he got back to his feet on the flimsy surface, her lower lips were entirely out of his reach.

“Why’d you stop?” Callie taunted from on high. “It’s right there if ya wanna play with it some more.”

As his underwear elevator continued heading down, Duncan decided to take advantage of the situation. Being careful not to fall through the growing opening of her right leg hole, he cupped some of the femcum on his chest into his right hand and began rubbing into her inner thigh, leaving a trail as the panties continued to be lowered.

“What are you doin’?” Callie asked, clearly feeling the wetness traveling down her leg.

Duncan gave the middle of her inner thigh a slap, splashing her juices everywhere.

“I’m marking my territory,” he explained.

Callie bent down, examining Duncan’s handiwork against her leg.

“That’s mine!” she giggled. “You’re markin’ me with my own scent!”

Duncan gave her as serious a look as he could, given the circumstances.

“You ate all mine,” he said flatly.

Now with her panties to her knees, Callie was now completely bent over, her head turned upside down as she laughed even harder at Duncan’s joke. Her hair swayed at the whims of her chuckling, falling just shy of scraping against the ground.

“I did, didn’t I?” she said. “I don’t regret it, either. It was so good!”

Callie smacked her lips theatrically as she continued to regard Duncan with a huge smile on her face. His eyes met hers as his right hand continued to drag along the sleek skin of her calf, it’s smoothness feeling almost like warm plastic against his palm.

He didn’t relent until after his hand passed over the bony curve of her ankle. As his feet met the carpeted floor through the thin cotton veil of her undies, he bent over himself, ending the cum streak at the point in which the side of her foot met the floor.

“There,” he said. “Now I’ll know how to find my way back!”

Callie gave him an odd look.

“Weren’t you, like, ‘markin’ your territory’ or whatever?” she asked.

Duncan looked at her with a sly smirk and shrugged his shoulders in response.

He had to step out of the way as Callie’s right hand reached for the area underneath her ankle, forefinger extended. She seductively traced the trail of cum with her finger, dragging it with agonizing slowness up her leg and all the way to its starting point almost all the way up her inner thigh.

Then, staring a hole into Duncan’s soul, even with her head still upended, she stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked it dry.

“Uh oh,” Callie said. “How ever will you get back there now?”

Unable to take his eyes off the sexy scene, Duncan didn’t need to look down to see his penis standing in attention once again; he could feel it.

“Lucky for you,” Callie said, her hand coming back down, this time for Duncan, “you’ve got a nice, big girlfriend to show you the way.”

Her fingers curled around him, trapping his body in her fist but leaving his head exposed. She lifted him from the ground as she stood up straight. Her left foot stepped out of her panties, while her right kicked them away behind her, throwing them into the wall.

Callie turned around and let herself plop lengthwise onto the bed, holding her arms out in celebratory fashion as she fell. For Duncan, the height and speed of his drop were as thrilling as any roller coaster, her clenched fingers securing him for the ride.

Laying down with the back of her head on a pillow, she guided her hand over her body, giving Duncan a fly’s eye view of her still-flushed face; large and perky tits, still contained within a lacy black bra; budding abdominal muscles; and sopping pussy lips. Her hand touched down in front of the gateway to her womanhood, gently dropping him there before retreating.

“Since you wanted to go for round two ...” Callie said.

Duncan knew what she wanted him to do, and he wanted to do it for her. But he hadn’t been inside a woman since … Kristie. Fuck, he hated himself for even letting her name come up at a time like this. He knew he couldn’t let his ex take this away from him, but his first step toward the waiting lips was a hesitant one.

“Oh shit,” Callie said, seemingly reading his mind, as she always seemed to be able to do. “I’m such an idiot. I didn’t even think of … what happened before. I-if you’re not feelin’ up for it, I’m good with endin’ the night right now.”

Duncan couldn’t help but smile as he heard her words of understanding. It meant so much to him that she was willing to be patient with him, but he could hear the disappointment she was trying so hard to mask from her voice. He knew he couldn’t let her down, let himself down. He wanted this just as badly as she did, after all.

This was happening tonight.

Duncan walked with determination as he approached Callie’s labia. He climbed up her outer lips just a little bit before pulling them apart, feeling her body shiver at his touch. He stuck his left foot through the opening, starting to push it through her inner lips as his right one followed.

“Oh fuck!” she moaned. “K-keep goin’!”

Duncan slipped his shins inside her, then his thighs, using gravity to his advantage as he pulled himself down with a fistful of pussy lip in each hand. He shuddered as his hard cock scraped against those hidden lips before his torso started sinking into them, the outer lips now closed over him as he was in too deep to hold them open any longer.

It didn’t take long after that for the rest of him to get swallowed up by Callie’s labia minora, sending him fully into the warm, dark, and incredibly moist cave that was her womanhood. Her vaginal canal was a tight fit for him, and he could just move enough to put his hands on the fleshy walls and maneuver himself deeper.

The slimy walls of Callie’s pussy pulsated as Duncan’s fingers gripped them. Happy with this result, he started squeezing, twisting, and pushing as much of her as he could get his hands on. He started rubbing his feet up and down the walls in front of and behind him. He did everything he could to make his presence felt inside of her.

Based on the rumbling and shaking knocking him about, he was pretty confident that he was succeeding.

The stale air was making it harder for Duncan to breathe as he worked himself to exhaustion. With shallow breaths almost taunting him, he decided that he needed a lungful of fresh air.

Sorry Callie, he apologized in his mind. I don’t want to leave you hanging, but I’ll be back in a second.

However, as Duncan hurriedly scampered his way back toward the surface, his legs pumping frantically for purchase as he pulled himself upward, the movement bouncing him around became more frantic. The living cave started to contract around him, making his climb more difficult but also providing some inviting friction as his erection was constantly rubbing against those walls.

By the time he reached Callie’s inner labia, he was in a rush to put some fresh air in his lungs. Pushing off against the tightening walls around him with his legs, he thrust through her inner lips and quickly grabbed the bottom of her outer lips and pulled himself halfway to the outside world with nearly the same momentum, his cock sandwiched between the two drooling lips.

Duncan’s first breath of clean air was met with an earth-shattering moan from Callie. He noticed a sudden change in elevation as he could tell that she had arched her back hard in reaction to his ascent. Between the way her labia shifted against his throbbing dick with the movement and the excitement of seeing his girlfriend orgasm, he came right then and there.

Almost as quickly as it had risen, however, her ass slammed back down on the bed, sending him tumbling back inside her lips. One leg sunk into her inner lips, while the rest of him laid atop it, which seemed to cause Callie to stir even more.

When things finally calmed down after several minutes of moaning, screaming, and shaking, Duncan started to climb back outside once again. However, once he resurfaced, his upper body hanging over one of her outer lips like it was a piece of driftwood amongst a river of femcum, her right index finger and thumb grabbed him under his armpits and pulled the rest of him out, hastily bringing him to her face.

“You good, Dunky?” Callie asked. “Nothin’ broken? How was it?"

Duncan felt a dopey smile cross his lips.

“It kind of smelled like my couch in there,” he answered.

********

“So did you just call me Dunky earlier?” Duncan asked.

He was lying on Callie’s sternum, his lower half buried in her cleavage. Both of them had their hands behind their heads as they lay in bed staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” she said. “Everyone else has a nickname for you. I wanted one that was just for me.”

Duncan wanted to argue that only two people had nicknames for him, but he stopped himself. He found how seriously she was taking the whole thing to be rather cute. Instead, he just gave the top of her right tit an approving slap. Based on the large giggle that caused the ground beneath him to jiggle she understood what it meant.

“So I know it was a little bit different,” he started, “but as far as first dates go, how did I do?”

Duncan both heard and felt Callie give a content sigh.

"It was okay, I guess,” she said. “I mean, that was the best Caesar's salad I’ve ever had.”

Before Duncan could dwell on those words, Callie burst out laughing, nearly throwing him from her cleavage.

“Were you serious with that question?” she asked once the laughter subsided. “That was, like, the greatest date I’ve ever been on, first or not. Everything was fucking perfect! I can’t believe you pulled all that off! I can’t believe you did all that for me! I … I just can’t believe it!”

A sense of giddy pride swelled up within Duncan’s chest.

“Oh, and by the way, you ruined dicks for me,” Callie continued. “I can’t go back. Not after … that!”

Duncan sat up and looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing but the underside of her chin.

“Hey, you don’t have to hype me up like that,” he said. “I know I’m smaller than most dicks, and I can take it if I wasn’t as good as a normal-sized guy.”

The chin Duncan was staring at tilted downward, and he got caught up in Callie’s eyes. They were alight with passion and lust.

“Dunky,” she said, flashing a happy smile as the name left her lips, “you may be smaller than most dicks, but you go deeper than a dick would. Dicks don’t have arms and legs to feel me up in there, either. And that thing you did at the end, where you, like, went crazy inside me, and then you brute forced your way out of me, it felt … it felt like I was being penetrated for the first time but from the inside. I don’t think I can describe how amazing that felt!”

Callie’s words echoed in Duncan’s head long after they had both laid back down and started talking about other things. He couldn’t believe that he had made her feel that way, that he was capable of that. It made any lingering doubts he may have had about his size not being good enough for her melt away for good.

After a while, the two of them both admitted that they were tired and that it was time to get some sleep.

“Stay with me tonight?” Callie asked.

Her right hand came down over his body, as a good portion of it covered her cleavage to leave his head exposed. The warmth of her palm felt so nice, and it was already lulling him to sleep.

“Okay,” he answered in a drowsy voice.

The two of them passed out together shortly afterward, Duncan nuzzling his cheek against the side of her thumb as he had his first truly peaceful night’s sleep in months.

Chapter End Notes:

Aaaaaand scene!

Man, it feels good to get this one out there! Feel free to share any thoughts you have on the chapter!


Duncan vs. the Diffident Domme

Word Count: 13045
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

Let's check in on our newly minted couple a few weeks removed from when we last saw them, shall we?

“I’m not sayin’ it’s weird,” Callie said. “Okay, it’s weird, but it’s not, like, that weird. Urgh! That’s not the issue here!”

Duncan watched from the dresser as his flustered girlfriend dropped to her knees and leaned forward in order to be closer to him. Her left elbow landed on top of the dresser several of his feet away from him, the small thud it produced accompanied by a soft tremor under his feet.

Callie pressed her left cheek into her left palm, propping her face up as she looked down at him with a slightly frustrated expression. The attention was too much for Duncan, who lowered his head in an effort to hide the embarrassed blush on his own cheeks.

The well-manicured, pink-painted nail of her forefinger soon blocked his view of the dresser’s surface as it slipped under his chin and gently tilted his head back to face her. The frustration had drained from her face, replaced by a more sympathetic expression.

“Hey,” Callie said softly. “It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about. I mean, I kinda already suspected you had a foot fetish. It’s okay, seriously.”

It had been hard for Duncan to tell her about his fetish, almost as hard as it had been for him to come to terms with having the fetish. But he couldn’t deny that what he was asking for was something he wanted badly, so he worked up the courage to “out” himself to the woman he loved.

Callie’s initial hesitance made him think that telling her had been a mistake. But now, his worries melted away as he found nothing but warmth in her eyes, a pair of kaleidoscopes of green mixed with reddish-brown staring into his soul and warming his heart.

“I’m not judgin’ you,” she continued. “I wanna give you what you want. I’m just worried, that’s all. Like, it just doesn’t seem safe, ya know?”

Duncan nodded.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But if you’re careful …”

Callie saw Duncan’s nod and raised him a head shake.

“You want to go under my foot,” she explained. “While I’m walking. Like, you don’t see the problem here?”

Duncan held her gaze as she tried to stare him down.

“I seem to recall mentioning you being careful,” he said.

Callie’s right hand came back, its pointer finger once again extended. This time, however, it aimed for his chest, poking him with just enough strength to knock him on his butt. The finger stayed on his chest, gently pushing him onto his back. She then started making cute little swirls on his chest and stomach area, ruffling up his beige t-shirt.

“You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, ya know?” she asked with an affectionate smile.

The pressure of her fingertip traveling all over his upper body, rubbing him up and down in circles and figure eights, felt incredible to Duncan. It had only been two weeks since Callie and he started dating, and in that span, almost every time she touched his body had become an erotic experience for him.

But he had to focus. She wasn’t going to use this tactic to win this argument. Not this time.

“Only when something is important to me,” Duncan answered. “And, you know, the rest of the time, too, I guess.”

He grabbed the sides of her fingertip and tried to lift it off. It didn’t move at first, Callie’s surprised face was a clear sign that she wasn’t registering his efforts yet. She was quick to recover, however, and she allowed him to push her finger away, pulling her hand away after her finger moved beyond Duncan’s reach.

“Shit, that usually works,” she said. “You really that serious about this?”

Duncan sat up and gave Callie another nod.

“Yeah,” he responded. “It’s taken me a while to be okay with this. Now that I am, I want this to be something we can share. You mean so much to me. There’s nobody else’s foot I’d want to be under.”

The slightest bit of moisture began to form in Callie’s eyes.

“Damn, Dunky,” she said. “Like, how can I say no to that?”

Duncan pushed himself back up to his feet and straightened out his shirt.

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

Callie gave a forlorn sigh.

“We’re not doin’ it with me walkin’ today, not ‘til I find a way to do it safely,” she said. “But I think I have a good compromise for today.”

Callie scooched back on her knees and both of her hands disappeared beneath the edge of the dresser. Duncan could hear the rumble of one of the drawers below him opening. Soon afterward, the dresser was carefully shut, still rattling the ground but not enough to knock Duncan off balance.

Her right hand returned within his line of sight, a sock dangling from between her thumb and index finger, which were gripping its top. She wiggled the sock with a few flicks of her wrist.

“Ta da!” Callie said cutely. “I won’t walk on you, but I’m cool with wearin’ ya for a while!

Duncan felt his face light up at Callie’s suggestion.

“You want to put me in there with your foot?” he asked, trying to downplay his excitement. “Yeah, that could work, I guess.”

A huge grin took over Callie’s face.

“It could, huh?” she said teasingly. “You look like you’re about ready to burst. Way to play it cool, though!”

Callie reached out for Duncan with her free hand, with Duncan lifting his arms over his head as her fingers wrapped around him, leaving only his head, arms, and shoulders sticking out.. She lifted him off the dresser and in front of her face as she stood up.

He found himself being brought toward her puckered lips, which were glazed in frosted pastel pink lipstick. Her fingers opened as her left hand tilted away from her, leaving his front completely exposed to her.

The two mounds of pillowy flesh pressed against his whole upper body, contorting lovingly around Duncan’s torso and face. The soft, warm embrace massaged his muscles as Callie held the kiss for a few seconds before pulling away. Slight suction from her mouth pulled his body off her palm as the lips carried him upward just a bit before releasing him and letting him fall back into her hand.

Callie giggled as she stared down at Duncan. A quick look at his shirt made the reason for her laughter perfectly clear: His shirt, arms, and presumably his face were all bathed in shimmering pink, a gift left behind by those smiling lips still hovering above.

Without saying a word, her fingers wrapped around him once again. This time, she had to maneuver her fingers under his armpits, as she caught him off guard. She kept him in front of her face, her eyes, filled with a tender intensity, locked in with his as she walked to the living room.

Callie sat down on the couch, setting Duncan down on the coffee table in front of her denim-clad knees. Her expression turned thoughtful as her gaze shifted from between Duncan and the sock.

“I’m still kinda worried,” she said. “What if you don’t like it in there or can’t breathe or … or something! Like, how would you let me know? I won’t be able to hear you down there.”

Duncan shrugged his shoulders. He hadn’t considered the possibility that he might end up in some kind of trouble under Callie’s foot, primarily because of how safe he felt around her.

“I could tap something against the bottom of your foot?” he asked, unsure of his suggestion. “It’s the next best thing after a safe word.”

Callie rubbed her chin with her right index finger and thumb as she contemplated the idea.

“Yeah, we could do that,” she replied. “What are you gonna tap, though?”

Duncan’s first thought was that something simple would work best.

“Three taps should work, right?” he asked.

Callie frowned at the suggestion.

“No, you could do that without even knowin’ it,” she answered. “It’s gotta be something more complicated. Something that there’d be, like, no mistake about. Something like ...”

Now it was Callie’s turn to wear an excited expression.

“I got it!” she said. “This is gonna sound random as fuck, but you even watch TV Land?”

Duncan’s curiosity was written on his face as he stared back at Callie.

“That channel with all the old ass shows?” he asked. “Yeah, that was always on the ‘approved watchlist’ when I was a kid.”

Callie’s smile dulled slightly.

“Yeah, Mom and Dad made me watch it with them, like, every night when I was a kid, said TV when they were younger was so much better than the ‘crap’ we have now,” she said, regaining some of her cheerfulness as she finished recalling the memory. “My favorite show on there was Laverne and Shirley. You ever see it?”

Another nod from Duncan confirmed that he had.

“Yeah, but I don’t know wh—” he stopped himself. “Oh, I get it. You want to use the theme song as the signal, don’t you?”

Callie squealed and clapped her hands together.

“Makin’ Our Dreams Come True, the greatest TV theme of all time!” she said. “It’s perfect!”

Callie’s enthusiasm seemed contagious, as Duncan couldn’t help but grin.

“Wow, you’re really excited about this,” he said.

Callie lifted her chin and looked over Duncan, seemingly lost in thought.

“I always wanted to be a workin’ girl like them when I was younger, but my parents weren’t about that,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “They wanted me to learn to cook and all that shit instead.”

Callie shook off the thought, looking back down at Duncan.

“Anyway, I think the beat during the “Doin’ it our way!” part would work,” he said. “So that’s just four taps, two slow, then two faster ones: da da da-da. So if you wa—”

Duncan cut Callie off, throwing both hands in front of him in a “whoa” motion.

“Hold on a second,” he said. “You’ve got it wrong. That “Doin’ it our way!” is five taps, three fast, two slow: da-da-da da da. The “Doin’ it” part is three fast ones.”

Callie’s lips curved into a hard frown.

“Duncan,” she said with slight sternness, “I watched that show for years. It was actually kinda important to me. Like, I think I know how the song goes.”

Shit, no Dunky? She’s pretty serious about this, Duncan thought. If only she wasn’t wrong.

“So if you know how the song goes,” he started with a smirk, “then why are you arguing with me?”

The two of them spent the next ten minutes arguing over how the song went, with neither of them willing to concede the point. The argument ended with an annoyed eye roll from Callie, who scooped him up in her right hand and sent him sliding down into her sock, which she was holding open with her left hand.

The ride down was surprisingly fun for him, kind of like going down the world’s steepest slide. His butt bounced slightly off the cotton wall behind him as he followed it down, fuzzy balls of cotton gathering at his feet along his swift descent.

The toe section broke his fall, causing him to tumble forward as his feet landed too fast for his body to adjust. Ending up on his back, he noticed the area around him getting darker. His eyes traveled upward to the sock’s opening, where Callie’s massive left eye spied on him.

“Any requests?” she said sweetly, her voice still loud but slightly muffled by the sock’s fabric. “Still want under my toes?”

After taking a moment to collect himself, Duncan made a decision.

“Since you’re not walking, I think anywhere on the sole of your foot would be good,” he answered. “Might as well take advantage of that.”

Callie’s eye pulled away from the hole, and Duncan started to sway as she lowered the sock.

“Gotcha,” she said. “I’ll surprise you!”

The inside of the sock darkened once more, but rather than an eye, it was five long, slender toes wiggling almost invitingly, showing off the deep shade of pink dressing each nail, as they meandered their way past the hole, blotting out the LED lighting overhead. The flawless, cutely rounded ball of Callie’s foot came into view before it became too dark for Duncan to make things out.

He could hear her foot pushing its way deeper into the sock, an oppressive heat beginning to overtake him. Without giving it too much thought, Duncan quickly stripped off his clothes while he still had the chance, lamenting the fact that he didn’t think of this before being placed in the sock.

By the time he felt Callie’s toes upon him, Duncan was butt naked, his clothes lost somewhere within the darkness. When the print of her big toe finally touched him, it stopped its progress before her foot fully filled the sock. The toe brushed up against him, the ridges of her toe print massaging his chest, core, and genital area.

He could just barely make out her giggles from high above, and her foot resumed its march forward.

 As Callie’s toes began to overtake his position, Duncan felt his surroundings start to tilt upward. He rolled past her toes and under the ball of her foot, which settled on his chest, his back pressed hard into the cotton wall behind him.

A deep thud rattled his world around him, jolting him a little further down the sock, with his own toes touching the base of the foot’s arch. He could feel gravity trying to pull at him by his feet, but he was snug and secure against his girlfriend’s incredibly smooth, light-vinegar-scented sole.

But it was the faintest hint of light seeping into the sock from behind him that provided the final piece of the puzzle for Duncan.

She just put her feet up on the coffee table, he realized.

Duncan decided to get right to work, using every millimeter of his arms and legs to rub as much of Callie’s sole as possible, moving them back and forth, up and down, and bent and straight in slow movements, using all of his strength to push his limbs as deep into her skin as humanly possible.

The bottom of Callie’s foot felt divine against his bare skin as it glided across the pristine sole, almost as though he were massaging satiny, malleable glass, alive and getting warmer by the second. His body heat, combined with the fabric of the sock trapping her foot’s natural heat within it, was starting to cause her foot to perspire.

Duncan’s whole body was soon dripping in sweat, both his and Callie’s. Some of the perspiration forced its way into his mouth, the salty liquid having an addicting quality that overrode the part of his brain telling him it was supposed to be gross. As he stared at the slightly crinkled skin directly in front of his face, he hesitated at first, afraid of what she might think of him if he acted on his next thought.

Then, he threw caution to the wind and gave her sole a long leisurely lick, lapping lustfully at a bead of sweat along the way. He went in for another lick and then another still, attacking her foot flesh like a three-scoop lemon ice cream cone, his favorite flavor by far. He shifted his neck to taste as much of her foot as possible, lathering up a growing area with his saliva.

The foot sweat became so pervasive that Duncan could feel himself slipping, almost slithering downward at a snail's pace, his member dragging across Callie’s obliging skin as he sank ever lower. He kept his tongue sticking out, its tip fully pressed into her sole and tracing its way down with him.

He could feel himself starting to get hard as the gentle friction of it rubbing into her foot teased his manhood at an agonizingly slow pace. The silky sole grinding against him, in concert with the heat and moisture emanating from it, combined to accommodate his growing erection with great fervor.

Without warning, Duncan felt something as large as a beach ball poke into his left side from his pelvis to his armpit. The thing poking into him was much more solid than a beach ball, and it didn’t stop with a poke. It pushed him to his right, sending him skidding horizontally across the ball of Callie’s foot, leaving a trail of spit and precum in his wake.

As the object moved away from him, his left arm was barely nipped by the edge of something hard. Turning his head to look at it, he saw a dull flash of purple through the white fibers of the sock. As it came back, this time bending as it moved below him, he recognized the pink surface positioning itself between his legs and pressing into his butt.

A toenail. Callie was pushing him around with the big toe of her unsocked foot.

Duncan felt the pressure of her toe on his ass as it pushed him up the ball of her foot. He only made it halfway up before he burst, ropes of cum splattering onto the bottom of her foot as his whole body shivered from the power of his orgasm as he gripped two handfuls of the skin of her foot and squeezed as tightly as he possibly could.

As he came down from his rapture, he heard a feminine moan followed by a giggle coming in the distance. Callie had stopped pushing him with her toe, and he took the time to recover. His heavy breathing began to slow and his heart rate dropped back to normal levels. He hugged the section of foot in front of him as best he could, his arms stretching across a small portion of the upper right part of the ball of her foot.

But almost as soon as his arms went limp and the hug ended, the shadow of the uncovered toe fell over him.

********

That’s probably enough of a break! Callie mused enthusiastically.

She had stopped nudging Duncan with her big toe once she felt his cum on her foot and gave him some time to regroup. She had briefly considered taking him out of her sock and asking him if he was good, but she quickly decided against it. This was something he wanted so badly, and she was going to make sure he enjoyed the experience to the fullest.

Well, that was most of it, anyway. Truth be told, Callie was initially just doing this for Duncan. She had thought his request was a little weird but in a cute, quirky sort of way, and she really wanted to make him happy. But once he was down there, rubbing, grinding, licking away, his little fetish started to seem less silly and adorable and more … exciting.

The foot rub had been nicer than she expected. The attention he paid to such a small area with his electric touch felt incredible, with the rest of her foot begging for the same treatment. Then, he caught her off guard with his tiny tongue, but that surprise soon gave way to pleasure as she found herself getting into it.

It was shortly afterward that Callie had the idea to move Duncan around the bottom of her foot with the big toe of her other foot. The sensation of him sliding across the width of her foot was fantastic! But the thing that really got her going was when she felt his hard dick pressing into her foot as it dragged along the ball of her foot.

Before he made it to the other side of her foot, her hand had already found its way past the waistband of her pink plaid pajama pants. She found herself already dripping wet and shoved her index and middle fingers past her pussy lips and right to her clit.

Callie finished right after she felt Duncan’s ejaculate cool her sole. It wasn’t as intense as the orgasm Duncan gave her when playing with her clit two weeks ago. Nothing she had ever felt could live up to either of the two orgasms she experienced that night. But, as her body trembled and her skin tingled a little, she had to admit that it still felt pretty damn good.

So she gave him a few minutes to recuperate while she recovered herself. Then she got back to it. She brought her toe back to her socked foot and nudged down on his head, pushing him down her foot. She was excited to feel his tongue, arms, and legs go right back to work at her prompting.

This went on for another twenty minutes before Duncan came again, this time in the middle of her arch. Even though Callie didn’t join him this time, she still immensely enjoyed playing with him like that. Rather than remove him, she just leaned back on the couch and left her feet up on the coffee table.

After another ten minutes, she felt a series of taps on her foot:

tap-tap-tap tap tap

Callie rolled her eyes, annoyed that Duncan used his version of the song to signal to her that he was ready to come out. The wrong version, clearly. She began to reach for the toe section of her sock, but stopped as the shadow of her hand stretched to her ankle. A mischievous smirk crossed her lips as she retracted her hand and returned to her fully seated position.

She paid close attention when she felt the taps a second time, wanting to make sure that this wasn’t an emergency of some sort. Given the slower, drawn-out pacing he used, she knew he was annoyed rather than desperate.

tap-tap-tap tap tap

Satisfied that everything was fine, Callie went back to ignoring his requests to exit her sock. As the tapping continued, she started to sway her feet in unison, swinging them left and right while occasionally flexing them for good measure, feeling him slip and squirm at her every whim.

This is the funnest fight I’ve ever had! she mused.

It wasn’t until Callie felt a new pattern being tapped on her foot that she finally relented.

tap tap tap-tap

The smugness of her expression was cranked to eleven.

Victory! she celebrated internally.

Callie cautiously pulled the sock off her foot, with her left hand waiting to catch her boyfriend as he tumbled out of it. As he landed in the center of her palm, she briefly worried that maybe she had actually pissed him off. This wasn’t the first time since they started dating that she had used her size to win an argument, and she was starting to worry that it was becoming a fallback for her.

I gotta make it up to him, she decided. It’s so fun, but I don’t wanna do that to him. He doesn’t deserve that.

But when Duncan stood up and looked at her, he had a big grin on his face.

“You shouldn’t have given me time to think,” he said. “Because while I was in there, I remembered that the internet is a thing …”

********

Monica couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at Kristie as the CEO raised another bite of her spicy chicken vegetable stir fry to her waiting lips. The puny girl was sitting at her own table atop Monica’s own dining table, with a tiny chair, plate, and silverware scaled to her size as she picked at her own much smaller sampling of the stir fry.

Monica’s glances didn’t go unnoticed, as Kritie’s vacant gaze lifted from her food to lock eyes with her humongous hostess.

“What the fuck do you want?” Kristi asked.

Despite the harsh words, Monica couldn’t ignore the lack of vitriol behind them. There had been something missing from her tiny houseguest ever since that day. Now, even when Kristie tried to be insulting, she came off more monotone than anything.

“It’s taken longer than I expected, but your house should be arriving sometime this evening,” Monica said. “Working plumbing and electricity have been built into the design, so you should be fully self-sufficient once it arrives.”

Monica had been quite precise to the last detail when instructing the manufacturer, one of many under her company’s umbrella, how to design and assemble the house. She would never share that with Kristie, of course, but the executive’s guilt had been eating away at her for weeks, and she was hoping this gesture might ease her regret.

“I guess Duncan has been living it up in one of these fancy houses the whole time?” Kristie asked.

Monica shook her head.

“I offered to have one built for him once I learned what had happened to him,” she explained after swallowing another mouthful. “He turned me down. He said the shoebox he modified with Callie felt like home.”

Monica waited for the coming snide remark to leave Kristie’s lips, even if it was devoid of feeling. It never came, however, as her little guest just stared back at her with wide eyes.

“He said that?” Kristie asked with genuine surprise in her voice.

A quick study of the tiny girl’s face gave Monica no indication of any snarkiness or sarcasm, so Monica answered with a slow nod.

“Good,” Kristie said. “I’m glad he found it.”

Her voice was so soft that Monica barely heard the lone word it spoke. The businesswoman was taken aback by the thoughtful expression Kristie wore as the Asian woman stared straight ahead, right through Monica.

Neither of the two women moved for several minutes. Monica spent most of that time trying to process what was happening. That was the closest Kristie had come to showing real emotion in two weeks, and that emotion wasn’t a negative one.

I don’t believe there will ever be a better time than now, Monica told herself.

“Why haven’t you attempted to escape?” she asked bluntly.

It was a question that had been on Monica’s mind since she returned home after helping with Duncan and Callie’s first date and realized that Kristie could have escaped, as she could have each day during Monica’s long workdays.

Not that Monica intended to keep her prisoner, but after what the executive had done to her, Monica was a little surprised that Kristie hadn’t at least tried to leave.

“You thought I’d leave?” Kristie countered. “Like that little bitch D did to me? Fuck you!”

There’s the Kristie that Monica remembered. That fire was back in her eyes, matching the venom in her voice. Monica wasn’t as annoyed about the return of “Old Kristie” as she thought she would be. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, Monica would think that she was feeling relief to see her act so alive.

But Monica didn’t want to dwell on that. She had a much more pressing matter to discuss with her tiny charge.

“Delightful, as always,” Monica said, keeping her tone professional as she brushed off Kristie’s verbal assault. “Now that we’ve resolved that matter, I was hoping to speak to you about Stuart Astor.”

Just like that, the fire left Kristie, replaced not by the emptiness Monica had become accustomed to seeing but by fear. The little woman was clearly trying to hide the tremble that had overtaken her body, clamping her knees together under the table and hugging her chest.

“You s-said you weren’t going to give me to him,” Kristie said, her words coming out almost too fast for her lips to keep up. “One fuck up and you’re back to that? I always knew underneath all that cutthroat CEO bullshit was an even more heartless cunt.”

Those words stung Monica far more than she would have assumed they would before hearing them come out of Kristie’s mouth.

“You were never going to be ‘given’ to Mr. Astor, nor did I ever imply that you would be,” Monica said flatly. “You’re a person, not a possession. Regardless of my personal feelings toward you, I’d never simply give you away.”

Kristie stopped shaking, shooting Monica a death glare.

“Then why in the cornflower blue fuck would you even bring him up?” Kristie questioned. “What could you possibly say that would make me want to talk about that?”

Monica broke her business demeanor just slightly, giving an anxious sigh before answering.

“I had your … incident with him looked into,” she explained. “I know you accused him of sexual assault while under his parents’ care.”

Kristie’s eyes went wide at first, but it only took a few seconds for her to recover. Her expression dulled as she stared down at her plate, watching as her food got cold.

“I lied,” she said. “Nothing happened.”

Monica gave a soft frown in response, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Kristie.

“I don’t believe you,” Monica said.

Kristie’s head shot up, the anger in her eyes causing Monica to involuntarily lean back to give the tiny girl space.

“Oh, fuck off!” Kristie shouted. “I say he did it, they call me a liar. I say he didn’t, you call me a liar. It can’t be both! Fucking pick one!”

As Kristie’s seething gave way to heavy breaths, Monica bent down, lowering her chin on folded arms and bringing herself closer to the shrunken woman’s level.

“Any doubts I may have had have been dissolved,” she said before hesitating. “Please, I … I would just like to know what happened?”

The intensity in Kristie’s gray irises softened as she considered her humongous hostess’s request.

“Why?” Kristie asked.

Monica opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out at first. She realized that this wasn’t a business negotiation. If she wanted Kristie to be honest, she would have to do the same.

“I don’t know,” Monica replied.

She refused to look away as Kristie held eye contact with her for a while, searching for … something. Monica wasn’t sure whether or not the tiny girl found it when she finally looked away.

Then Kristie broke the silence.

“D was lucky; he never knew his real parents,” she began. “I was eight when mine put me in the system.”

Kristie turned back to look at Monica once again, although her gaze seemed to somehow look past the businesswoman’s expansive yet pretty face.

“Mom and Dad immigrated here from Seoul a couple years before I was born,” Kristie explained. “Dad was a real traditionalist. Bastard only wanted a son to carry on the family legacy, so he played pretend with me. He kept my hair super short, always had me outside doing hard shit like carrying firewood, and hit me if I acted too much like a girl.”

Monica gasped at the revelation that Kristie’s biological father physically abused her, but Kristie only gave a dry chuckle in response.

“Then, when Mom finally got pregnant again and they found out it was a boy, Dad kicked my ass to the curb as soon as he could,” Kristie said. “He didn’t want to raise more than one kid, I guess. Heh, so much for tradition, right?”

Her lips curled into a sad smile.

“You know what the ironic thing is?” Kristie asked. “For the last thirty years or so, Korean families have actually preferred daughters because of some sexist shit about them taking care of their parents better when they get old. Somebody must have forgotten to let my loving father know that they were switching things up.”

The bitterness with which Kristie spoke the words “loving father” resonated deeply with Monica, who couldn’t help but think about the distant and cold nature of her own father.

“After that, I bounced between foster parents for a while, just hoping one of them might think I was worth keeping around,” Kristie continued. “No one ever did. I thought the Astors did for a while, though.”

Kristie shoved her plate away from her and stood up.

“I didn’t think about it at the time, but I’m pretty sure they took me in for some PR shit, to look good in the community or for investors or for whatever the fuck reason rich people like to show off and pretend they aren’t pieces of shit,” she explained. “The signs were all there, but I didn’t care. All that mattered to me was that they treated me nice enough and that, for a little while, their house felt like home. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Much to Monica’s surprise, Kristie started walking toward her at slow pace.

“I was 15 when they took me in. They had a son, Stu,” Kristie said. “He was a year younger than me and just going through puberty at the time. He was awkward sometimes, but we got along pretty well those first couple of weeks.”

Kristie stopped walking halfway between the tiny table and Monica’s face, rubbing the back of her neck with her right hand as she looked down and to her left.

“The first time seemed innocent enough,” Kristie said quietly. “The little shitstain came to my room and asked if he could touch my tits. He said he’d never had a girlfriend and just wanted to know what they felt like. Mine had come in not too long before moving in with the Astors. Lucky me.”

Monica could barely hear Kristie’s mumbled words, so she leaned in, closing the distance between the tiny girl and her head.

“I wanted to say no, but I was afraid the Astors would send me back if I didn’t do what they wanted, and I really didn’t want to go back,” Kristie said. “So I sucked it up and told him it was fine. He just poked them a couple of times through my shirt. I told myself it was no big deal.”

Kristie raised her eyes from the ground, her gaze meeting the bridge of Monica’s nose less than a foot away from her. Monica saw an emptiness in those tiny eyes that she found even more unsettling than those blank expressions the little woman had been wearing for the past few weeks.

“The first time I told him no was when he wanted to kiss me,” Kristie continued. “He had been feeling up my side boob and ass for a little while by that point. I think it was the first time the little shit had been told no, because he didn’t handle it well.”

Kristie sighed and looked away once again, this time to her right.

“He screamed at me, called me a stupid bitch and all that,” she said. “When that didn’t change my mind, he pulled a bag of pot out of his pocket, bragged about being tight with the dealer at his preppy-ass school that I didn’t get to go to. He told me that if I didn’t let him kiss me, he was going to tell his parents that he found it in my room and have me sent back. I wasn’t going back. We ‘made out’ for most of the night.”

Monica finally realized how much she was encroaching on her little guest’s space and returned her chin to the top of her folded forearms. She could still feel Kristie’s shame from there.

“Things only got worse from there,” Kristie explained. “He started full-on groping me whenever it was just us around. Sometimes I’d have to get naked in front of him so he could ‘see what a woman looks like.’ He even made me touch his dick a couple times. I was so disgusted by what I was doing, but I had a home, and I wasn’t about to lose it.”

Monica wanted to say something. She had to say something, right? She had to let Kristie know that she didn’t do anything wrong. But she couldn’t. The words refused to rise to her mouth, weighed down by the guilt of her own abusive act toward the tiny girl standing right in front of her face.

“I told him to fuck right off when he said he wanted to have sex, though,” Kristie said. “He said he wanted someone more experienced to be his first time, give him some pointers and shit. Like me being a foster kid made me some kind of slut or something. He actually called me a liar when I told him I was still a virgin.”

Monica’s heart sank. Surely Kristie didn’t …

“He used the same threat as before, but I wasn’t going to go that far, even if it meant losing my new family,” Kristie continued. “Little bastard tried to force me, grabbed my arms and started shoving me toward my own bed. I headbutted him right in the face, broke his nose.”

A goofy smile crossed Kristie’s face.

“Seeing the blood all over his face made me happy for the first time in years,” she said before that smile vanished. “He told his parents that I attacked him in some kind of drug rage, as stupid as that sounds. They didn’t care if he was lying. They didn’t care when I told them what really happened. All they cared about was making sure this was my fault and that nobody would ever find out what their precious Stuart did.”

The hands at Kristie’s sides balled up into fists, and her voice became unsteady.

“They used their money and made sure my side of the story never made it into the report, and nobody believed me,” Kristie said. “That was the day that I realized no one would ever give a shit about me, that everything I was ever going to do would be wrong, so why even fucking try? So I just started giving everybody the same shit they’re waiting to give me, hurt them first.”

As Kristie finally looked her in the eye once more, Monica could see the minuscule girl’s pain at reliving those memories. The CEO never would have thought that she would feel empathy for someone as nasty as Kristie, but all she wanted to do in that moment was take that suffering away from her little guest.

Without even thinking about it, Monica’s right hand had already found its way to Kristie’s left side. Monica extended her index finger and gently rubbed her fingertip up and down the tiny girl’s body from shoulder to calf. By the finger’s third trip back up Kristie’s side, she leaned into the touch, her eyes closed as she seemed to relish the contact.

It was a different story once those eyes suddenly popped open, however.

“The fuck is this?!” Kristie screamed.

This was a level of anger Monica had never seen in Kristie before. The little woman turned and punched the pad of Monica’s finger with a ferocity that shocked the executive. Even though the attack didn’t hurt, Monica still pulled her hand away as though she had just been stung by a bee.

“What? You think just because I told you my sob story that we’re friends now?” Kristie asked. “I’m supposed to think that you actually care? Fuck you! You think I’m stupid?!”

Kristie walked back to her tiny table, grabbing it on the side closest to Monica and flipping it over in the opposite direction. Her food went flying across a small portion of the table, and her chair flipped as well once as the table crashed into it.

Without looking back, Kristie walked to the ladder Monica had installed for her to reach the table and climbed to the floor. Monica watched in stunned silence as Kristie started the long trek back to her room, unable to make sense of what had just happened.

********

“No way!” Brooklyn said excitedly. “So the new prof went back and curved the first exams? That’s fanfuckingtastic!”

Callie nodded excitedly as she walked beside her brunette friend, mindful of the weight she was putting into each step. The pair had just gotten out of their respective classes, Callie’s being the one taught by the former professor Carlton Stillwell, and were walking down the campus sidewalks as she escorted Brooklyn to her next class.

“Uh huh!” she answered. “She went back and looked at profe … at Stillwell’s assigned coursework ‘til now, and she spent her whole first class goin’ off on how much the way that jerk was teachin’ it didn’t make any sense. Just like Duncan said.”

Callie smiled brightly at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. It also made her more aware of the soft, sensual tingle underneath the toes of her right foot. It took a lot of convincing on Duncan’s part, but she finally caved after he reminded her for the twelfth God damned time that a quick web search had proven him right about the theme to Laverne and Shirley.

Note to self, she mused as she recalled his reaction at the discovery, never be wrong in front of Dunky again.

“Duncan, huh?” Brooklyn asked with a sly smile. “So I finally get a fucking name. That’s the dude, right?”

Callie came to a grinding halt. She felt the ball of each foot press into the small mound of hard rubber she had glued in just the right place on her strappy brown sandals. Her toes settled atop the metal bars covered in a layer of foam painted to match her shoes, that she had attached to the tip of the toe sections of her footwear, lifting her toes just far enough off the sole to slip a hot dog underneath them.

Or a three-inch-tall man lying on his back.

“What dude?” she answered with a question of her own.

Brooklyn stopped walking a few steps ahead of Callie, taking a few steps in reverse to eliminate the distance between them. Callie knew that Brooklyn would be willing to be late to her next class if it meant getting this vital piece of information out of her.

All the while, Duncan’s hands and tongue never stopped working, rubbing and lapping at Callie’s second and third toes. It seemed as though he wasn’t the least bit curious why they had stopped moving. As much as she was enjoying his efforts, she tried as hard as she could to turn her full attention toward her inquisitive friend.

“The dude who was making you feel like shit before,” Brooklyn said, that knowing smirk never leaving her face. “The dude who apparently wised up and finally realized what he was missing. You think I didn’t notice how giddy you’ve been these past couple weeks?”

Callie was struggling to concentrate as she felt her Dunky grip her second toe with both arms, unable to wrap them fully around it, and bury his face in its joint with his tongue going wild against it. Despite it only being a small area, the machinations of Duncan’s tongue made her whole body quiver.

Damn! I’m so glad he got me to do this! she thought.

As the tickling sensation intensified more and more, Callie thought back to her boyfriend’s request to come with her to class earlier in the day. She thought she had ended the discussion when the hot dog she had put between her toes and sandal sole mushed completely with her first step. He had cringed at the sight but remained undeterred.

After more arguing, they spent the rest of the morning rigging up her sandals to create a safe space for him to travel beneath her feet. She was still nervous, and they had tested it without him by walking around the apartment to make sure the alterations would hold up, but by the time they set out for class, she was confident enough that he would be safe, so she let him slip under her toes before heading out.

That was a decision she was currently relishing.

“Um, you okay?” Brooklyn asked. “You kinda spaced and you … shook.”

Callie gave her head a shake to pull her out of her daze, refocusing her attention on the nosy girl in front of her.

“I’m good,” she said. “Just got a lot on my mind. Sorry! What were we talkin’ about?”

Before Brooklyn could answer, Callie made a play to move the topic of discussion away from her tiny boyfriend.

“Oh yeah!” she began. “Weren’t you supposed to hear back about that internship yesterday?”

The two girls resumed walking, with Brooklyn flashing Callie a beaming smile.

“I got it!” Brooklyn answered. “I’ll be spending the summer working at the Baneford Industries.”

Callie was elated, both at her friend’s incredible news and the euphoric warmth emanating from her loin because of Duncan’s efforts. Her toes involuntarily curled around the outer rim of the foam-covered bar at her toes, and for a second she was afraid it wouldn’t be able to hold against the strength of her toes. Thankfully, she was able to control herself and stop before putting that concern to the test.

“That’s so awesome!” she said with perhaps too much enthusiasm. “I don’t care if they’re, like, the biggest company in the world. They’re so lucky to have you!”

By now, Duncan had moved on to Callie’s big toe and had begun to nibble on it. She looked away from Brooklyn and bit her lower lip to keep from screaming.

How the fuck did he even figure out I’m into that shit in the first place?! Callie questioned internally. Like, is there something about me that just screams, “Bite me”?!

“Wait,” she said, stopping again as she looked back at Brooklyn, who stopped with her this time. “That means you’ll have to go to New York for the summer.”

Enough was enough. As amazing as Duncan was feeling down there, Callie had to express her sadness at her friend leaving her for the summer, even if it was for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She wanted her friend to know that she would be missed, and it was getting exceedingly harder to do that while he continued to get her worked up.

She lifted her right foot off the ground and gave it three gentle shakes, keeping a careful eye out in the unlikely event that this was enough to dislodge him from her foot. The feeling of his body bouncing off her toes within the narrow space he was hiding in told her he was fine … and put a guilty smirk on her face.

“Sorry, had a pebble,” Callie said as she set her foot back on the ground with care. “Anyway, I just want you to know I’m rootin’ for ya, even though I’ll miss you so much.”

Brooklyn giggled and shook her head. Callie was confused but mostly grateful that Duncan seemed to have gotten the hint and was now behaving.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Brooklyn lightly chided. “Baneford bought McKlusky Tower downtown, and they kicked out all the businesses already operating out of it, even paid their relocation fees. They’re making it their new corporate headquarters!"

Callie’s jaw nearly dropped to the sidewalk.

“Baneford’s moving here?” she asked.

Brooklyn nodded eagerly as she took Callie by the arm and guided her back into a walk.

“Yup! So no moving for me!” Brooklyn said. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t know, though. I mean, I know it happened quick, but they announced it a little over a month ago and they already finished the transition just this week. Actually, I’m going to start putting in a few hours over there between and after classes starting next week.”

It made Callie so happy to not only see her friend succeed but keep her close by as well. With that worry put to bed, she looked down at her foot, getting a tad anxious that she hadn’t felt anything out of her Dunky for a couple minutes. Why did she have to shake him up? The fuck was wrong with her?

As though he could feel her concern oozing out of her skin, Duncan gave a comforting pat and rub to the pad of her big toe, letting her know he was just fine. She couldn’t stop herself from letting out a sigh of relief. How did he always know?

“I love what you did with your sandals by the way,” Brooklyn said as she followed Callie’s gaze to the blonde’s feet. “You’ve always been so creative with stuff like that, and now they really show off your pretty little toes.”

Brooklyn was quiet for a moment, letting a grin build on her face.

“I bet Duncan’s into your feet, isn’t he?” she asked.

Callie could feel her face going red.

“M-maybe,” she said.

Brooklyn put her left hand on Callie’s right shoulder as they continued to walk side by side.

“I fucking knew it!” Brooklyn said. “You’re going out with this Duncan guy. So when do I get to meet him? You know how risky it is dating a guy without best friend approval!”

Callie turned away from her well-meaning friend, looking straight ahead as she tried to think of a good excuse to ward off her friend’s curiosity.

“I don’t know, Brook,” she said. “That’s kinda, like, complicated.”

Callie could see from the corner of her eye Brooklyn narrow her eyes just a slight bit.

“Of course it is,” Brooklyn said with a hint of suspicion in her voice. “Fine. It should be a couple more minutes before we get to my class, so at least tell me about him until we get there.”

That seemed more than fair to Callie. Maybe she’d talk to Duncan later and see if he might consider meeting Brooklyn. She didn’t think it was likely, given how hard it was for him to trust, but maybe, just maybe, she could convince him.

In the meantime, Brooklyn would have to settle for hearing Callie talk about him.

“Okay, so obviously he’s hot as fuck,” Callie began. “He is a bit shorter than me …”

********

“You still workin’?” Callie asked.

While Duncan hadn’t heard the apartment door close or even her footsteps as she entered their room after returning home from work, her massive shadow darkening the entirety of his workspace was a dead giveaway of her presence before she spoke. He had told her several times that she didn’t need to be so quiet for his sake, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless.

“Yeah, I’m wrapping up now,” he said as he touched the central screen with his whole right palm, dragging it across the screen as he adjusted the figures of the business graph displayed on it. “Working past regular hours is worth taking a long lunch and heading to class with you.”

Duncan looked over his left shoulder and skyward, seeing his girlfriend’s glorious smile waiting for him. But something was off. Callie’s eyes were missing that vibrant glimmer that he had become so addicted to seeing every day since moving in with her.

Something was weighing on her.

“Hey,” she said softly, “When you’re done, you think we can talk a minute?”

Duncan responded by holding up his left index finger as he hastily finished making the needed adjustments to his work. He then used the programmed voice commands to shut down all three of the screens surrounding him for the day.

“I’m done,” he answered. “What’s up?”

Callie lowered her hand down for Duncan to step into, and the pair soon found themselves on her bed, him standing on one pillow and her laying her head on the other, facing him. He couldn’t help but note that he wasn’t even as tall as the full span of her eyes like this. Eyes that were filled with that same warmth they always seemed to have for him but now also carried a sense of hesitancy as well.

“Am I mean?” she blurted out.

Duncan stared back at her blankly, unsure of where such a random, ridiculous question could have possibly come from.

“No?” he responded. “Why would you think that?”

Callie blinked a few times as she frowned ever so slightly, and Duncan thought he saw her eyes begin to water.

“I-It’s okay,” she said. “You don’t have to act like everything’s fine. I know I … I’ve been pushin’ you around lately, usin’ your size to win fights and even just to, like, have a little fun playin’ with you. Of course you’re pissed at me!”

With a few steps toward Callie, Duncan found himself at the edge of the pillow beneath his feet. He gave her a stern look.

“I want to make something perfectly clear,” he said. “I’ve never lost a fight with you. Undefeated, baby!”

The scowl that made its way across Callie’s face came as little surprise to Duncan.

“I’m serious!” she whined. “I push you over with a finger and hold you down all the time. Yesterday I didn’t even let you out of my sock until you agreed with me about how a fuckin’ song goes. I’m treatin’ you like shit, and you’re gonna pretend like it’s no big deal?!”

Duncan leaped across the small gap between the two pillows, practically forcing Callie to go cross-eyed in order to keep looking at him.

“You’re right,” he said. “This is a big deal, and I have been meaning to say something about it for a while now.”

Duncan reached out with his right hand and set his palm at the bridge of Callie’s nose right between her eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” he said.

Not only could Duncan see the confusion on Callie’s face despite standing so close to it, he could actually feel the skin of her nose crinkle under his hand, almost trapping his fingers within the temporary creases.

“Proud?” she asked.

Withdrawing his hand, Duncan stepped back a bit, mindful of the ledge of the pillow behind him, to let Callie see that he was being sincere.

“Yeah, proud,” he said. “For pretty much the whole time we’ve known each other, you’ve doubted yourself. You never seem to think you’re good enough for anything or anyone, and you blame yourself for every bad thing that happens to you. You have no idea how amazing you are, and it fucking hurts to see you act like you don’t deserve to be happy.”

As a few silent tears leaked from Callie’s eyes, Duncan knew his decision to back away a bit was a good one, as the last thing he wanted was for his clothes to be drenched.

“So seeing you confident and willing to take what you want? That’s a good thing, even if I have to pretend to lose an argument every now and then,” he said, drawing a small chuckle from Callie. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you feel like you can let loose like that around me, that you’re comfortable enough around me that I get to see you without all the shit that’s always weighing you down.”

Callie pushed her head off the pillow, causing Duncan to stumble but keep his feet as she propped herself up with her right arm under her.

“So you aren’t pissed at all?” she asked. “Doesn’t it hurt your pride or make you feel small when I mess with you like that?”

Duncan gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

“Hey, it gets you going, doesn’t it?” he said more than asked, flashing his giant girlfriend a cheeky grin. “Because I remember how most of those fights that you think you won ended …”

Expecting to see the telltale signs of Callie’s embarrassment, Duncan was instead caught off guard by her worried expression.

“Duncan,” she said in a serious tone, “just because I think something is hot doesn’t mean you have to put up with it. Fuck, I feel bad enough bullying you like that. I don’t need you to feel like I expect you to—”

Duncan waved his arms, and Callie, understanding the signal, allowed him to cut her off.

“I’m into it, too,” he said. “I just about lose it every time you hold me down or pick me up without asking or anything else that reminds me that you can do whatever you want with me. It’s all so fucking hot, but I thought that if I said something it might kill the mood for you, so I just let you do your thing on your own.”

As she looked down on him, Duncan could tell by the tension in her shoulders and her pensive face that there was still some anxiety inside Callie.

“But … but what if I take it too far?” she questioned. “What if I start doin’ stuff you really hate, whether you like it or not?”

Duncan knew it would never come to that. Hell, just the fact that they were having a conversation about it, that Callie was so worried about it that she brought it up with him in the first place, was proof enough of that. But he had another, much more basic reason for not worrying about it.

“Eh, I trust you,” he said.

Just like that, all the gloom left Callie’s face, replaced by a giddy smile and a loving gaze focused solely on Duncan.

“What?” he asked, unsure what brought about such a sudden shift in her demeanor.

Never taking her eyes off Duncan, Callie shifted herself off the bed. The resulting quakes sent Duncan tumbling down between the pillows, a short but somewhat embarrassing fall.

“Nothing,” she said coyly.

By the time Duncan had walked out from the gap between the two pillows, Callie had already removed her shirt and shorts, staring down at him from her full height in nothing but her pink lace bra and panties.

“W-What are you doing?” he asked in a daze.

Duncan’s neck was craned all the way back as his eyes took their time trailing upward, eating up every inch of his gigantic girlfriend’s scantily-clad body until they landed on those eyes that never strayed from his tiny form.

“Nothing,” she said again, even more cutely this time.

Without any warning, Callie reached down with her right hand, snatching Duncan up between her fingers. The ride up to her face was fast but smooth, more fun than rough. Once he arrived at her face pinched between her thumb and forefinger, she leaned in just enough to pelt him with several kisses, with each pleasurable assault feeling like memory foam hugging his body.

She plopped onto the bed, rattling him to his core from within her grip, then lifted her incredibly long legs off the floor and onto the bed as well. Laying on her back, she bent her left knee so that it was standing before him like a building, following up by laying her right foot on top of it.

Then Callie started to move Duncan toward her foot.

“Like, aren’t you gonna ask what I’m doin’?” she asked.

Duncan rolled his eyes as Callie slipped his body in between the big and second toes of her right foot.

Nothing,” he said mockingly.

Callie giggled at his answer, moving her foot so that it hung off her knee by her Achilles tendon. She began to sway her foot back and forth with gentle rotations of her ankle. Her hands were behind her head as she lay back on the pillow, a content sigh escaping her lips.

“Apologize,” she said, her eyes still locked in on Duncan.

Despite the snug hold Callie’s toes had on him, he still gripped her toes as best he could with each arm. He knew she would never let him fall, but it never hurt to be too careful.

“For what?” he asked.

From his elevated position, Duncan could easily see all of Callie’s massive face. She was grinning from ear to ear, without a trace of anger in her expression.

“For not tellin’ me that you liked bein’ messed with way sooner,” she replied with a playful pout and a teasing twinkle in her eye. “And for makin’ fun of me just now with that ‘Nothing.’ That was so mean!”

It was clear to Duncan that the last thing Callie wanted was for him to actually apologize.

She wants a fight, he concluded internally. This should be fun!

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Duncan said with a smirk.

Callie’s grin morphed into a self-satisfied smirk as her ankle stopped swaying. Duncan could tell she wasn’t done, however, so when her foot started lazily bobbing up and down, the constant collision of her heel into her knee shaking him up almost as much as the aimless rhythm of her foot.

“Are you suuuuure?” she asked.

Duncan was thankful to feel the toes surrounding him tighten their grip with the more hostile, but still ultimately harmless movements. He was moving up and down fast enough that Callie’s upper body was only a blur. He was thankful he hadn’t eaten supper yet, as he doubted he would have been able to keep it down on this ride.

Okay then,” she said flatly.

Callie’s foot, and Duncan with it, raised higher and higher into the air as her leg straightened out directly over her body. Looking down reminded him of looking at the ground from the window in Monica’s office, only instead of streets filled with cars and people, the landscape below was a field of rich, lush skin, with rocky muscles just barely poking out at her abdomen and a pair of luscious pink-garbed grain silos standing on her chest.

With a sensual slowness, she let her left foot slide forward as her knee unbent, stretching her leg until it was completely straight and almost jutting over the foot of the bed. That same agonizing patience was on display as she took her time lowering her straightened left leg and its puny passenger down onto the bedspread as well.

As soon as her heel touched down, Callie’s toes loosened their grasp on Duncan’s midsection. He pushed against the top of the two toes, a hand on each knuckle, with everything he had. However, as soon as he started, the toes almost immediately let go entirely, sending him tumbling down the top of her foot, stopping at her ankle.

“I guess I can, like, forgive you or whatever if you make it up here,” she said, trying to sound uncaring but not quite able to hide the excitement lacing her voice.

Duncan didn’t even bother to try hiding his own enthusiasm. Without even responding to Callie, he got back on his feet and started walking along her shin with a big smile on his face. He barely made it past her ankle before the warm, fleshy ground beneath his feet became unsteady, and he fell on his ass.

By the time he had finished sliding back down to her ankle, he realized that he was also moving toward Callie. Her foot was moving toward her, her heel plowing through the plush soft green comforter, pushing the fluff inside the blanket to either side as it pushed its way through without effort.

As Callie’s knee gradually lifted higher and higher, her foot was struggling to keep a slow pace. Clinging to the base of her shin bone as best he could, Duncan felt like he was driving through a school zone, desperately trying to stay under the slower speed limit but constantly having to tap the brake to keep from going the regular limit too soon.

When her foot finally stopped moving, she gave no explanation, with only a giggle echoing throughout the room to indicate that he should resume his journey. Not bothering to stand up, he rolled onto his hands and knees and started the steep ascent up her shin and to her knee.

Thankfully, Callie bent her leg at just the right angle to give Duncan a challenging climb rather than a near vertical one. The skin around her shin was tight but he was able to get enough of a grip on it to keep pulling himself up with each step forward, his feet pushing off against the taut flesh.

By the time he neared her knee, he had worked up quite a sweat thanks to the exertion of the climb. He started to worry about his grip becoming slippery and sliding all the way down her lower leg, only to have to start from the beginning once again. So he was relieved when his left hand touched the top of her kneecap.

Duncan pulled himself up, standing to admire the view from on high. He caught a brightly smiling Callie glancing at him before quickly diverting her eyes to the phone in her right hand, acting as though she never looked his way. His shirt soaked in perspiration, he took it off and threw it over the edge of her knee, watching the now-heavy clothing crash into the bedspread below.

That was a nice little workout, he thought. And now for my reward, a fun slide down that sexy thi—

Duncan’s world was rocked again as he felt himself being lowered. Although the pace of his descent was more measured than when Callie bent her knee, he crouched to help keep his balance anyway. By the time the shaking stopped, her leg was straight again.

“Sliding is cheating,” she said without lifting her eyes off the device in her hand.

Duncan knew that Callie ignoring him as he worked his way up her body was just an act, that she was just as into this as he was. But it was a damn good act, one that drove him wild! Her making this hard for him was making him hard for her, and her pretending to not even care only enhanced that feeling.

He hopped off her knee and began jogging up her thigh, not wanting to keep his girl waiting too long. The more supple skin of her thigh allowed for his feet to sink into it with each stride, which made his effort a little more difficult, like trying to run through a bounce house.

Duncan wouldn’t let that stop him, though. He was more determined than ever to apologize for that thing he didn’t do wrong that he just swore he’d never apologize for.

********

Callie was trying so hard to keep her eyes on her phone.

Playing with Duncan between her toes had been fun, but feeling him crawl up her shin felt simply divine! Every time he gripped her skin, she bit her lip to keep from squealing, and the little pitter patter of his feet as he scampered up her leg tickled in the most delightful way!

Before today, a part of Callie would have felt guilty for making her boyfriend work so hard just to please her. But now that she knew that this kind of thing excited him just as much as it did her? She could simply sit back and feel pampered, enjoying how a simple shift of her body made such a huge impact on how hard things were for him.

Of course, once Duncan reached the top of her knee, Callie figured one quick peek couldn’t hurt.

Unfortunately, that quick peek turned into a stare as she watched him take his shirt off and throw it all the way down to the bed. God, he was shredded! She couldn’t look away, at least not until he caught her staring.

As Callie pulled her eyes off him and buried them back in her phone, she decided to “punish” Duncan for catching her. She was going to let him slide down her thigh, but now he would just have to walk it. It gave her a unique sense of satisfaction as she unbent her knee, a simple action for her but a landscape-changing event for him.

She hadn’t expected him to run up her thigh, but each step felt fantastic against her skin! She gave him another glance over the top of her phone, a wave of affection coming over her as she thought back to his words a little earlier.

Callie hadn’t realized it, but that was one of the few times she had heard someone tell her that they were proud of her, and, if she was being honest with herself, it was the first time she believed somebody when they said it.

She had been so worried that she was letting her secret desires get the best of her, that she was bullying him for her own perverse pleasure, but he felt so privileged just to see that side of her. He wasn’t wrong about him being the only one to see it, either; she would have never been so bold as she had been with Duncan over the past few weeks.

Callie also realized that while she had been terrified that she was taking advantage of Duncan, she was never once worried about him judging her for it. It was almost like she needed to look out for him against herself because she was so sure he would never say anything on his own.

But it was the last three words he had said that really touched her: “I trust you.” Despite the casual way in which he said it, the weight of those words weren’t lost on her. She knew how hard it was for him to trust anyone really and that the things she was doing to him probably should have made him worry at least a little bit, given his history at his current size.

However, Duncan never even questioned it. He trusted Callie completely. It made her feel so special, so lucky, to have somehow earned that from him, even if she felt like she didn’t deserve it. She swore to herself almost as soon as she heard those words that, no matter what happens in the days, weeks, and years ahead, she would never betray that trust.

She was so lost in thought that she nearly missed the feeling of him stepping over her damp panties and onto her tummy. She was so wet that the thought of simply lifting the waistband of her panties and ordering him to go inside briefly crossed her mind.

But Callie wasn’t ready to push this new domme act that far yet. While they had been having sex regularly for weeks, forcing Duncan, even if it was just pretend, was something she wasn’t sure he would be comfortable with, given what happened to him with Kristie. No, there would be time for that later, once she was sure he was truly okay with it.

He didn’t give her much time to think about it anyway. Almost as soon as he stepped over her waistband, he got down on his hands and knees and started kissing her abdomen as he crawled over it, leaving an invisible trail of love and arousal as he made his way closer to her face.

Callie was still holding her phone up to her face, but her gaze wouldn’t leave the tiny man inching his way up her torso with enough affection to make her heart burst. Her original plan once he reached her upper body was to roll onto her side and watch him slip off her body onto the bed, maybe make him climb up and walk along her side instead.

There was no way she was doing any of that now, however.

Duncan’s little lips were spreading goosebumps far beyond the impact of his kisses. Callie was thankful that he was so into showing her his love that he didn’t even notice her watching him as he crawled over her belly button. His show of devotion not only touched her soul, but it also made her even wetter than straight up dominating him.

She lost sight of him well before he actually reached the underside of her bra, her large, perky breasts blocking her view of him shortly after he crossed her belly button. She always knew exactly where he was, though. With her eyes closed, he was the only thing she could feel, and it was turning her on more and more by the second.

Once Duncan arrived at the hilly blockade, Callie couldn’t take it anymore. She sat up abruptly, sending him rolling down muscly abs and into her lap. She reached back and unstrapped her bra, tossing it to the floor with reckless abandon. Then she plucked him from her lap with her right hand and set him down atop her left breast, right next to her nipple.

“Play with it,” she said with yearning in her voice. “Please.”

In her growing lust, Callie couldn’t keep up her act and asked Duncan instead of telling him what to do. It didn’t matter at that point, however; she had already gotten what she wanted out of their game. Now all she wanted was sweet release, and her little boyfriend was going to help her get there.

He didn’t need to be told a second time. Before the word please even left her mouth, his hands were aggressively rubbing their way up and down her nipple, which was about as tall as his knee cap. She could feel his tiny fingers grab handfuls of one of her most sensitive areas. Each movement sent shockwaves through her body, and each squeeze made her moan and squeal.

When Callie couldn’t take anymore, her right hand ferociously dove into her panties, her middle and ring fingers slipping as deeply inside her womanhood as she could shove them. Her left arm snaked around the breast occupying Duncan and her fingers started playing with her free nipple.

In her lusty haze, she was just aware enough to realize that her fingers were being outperformed by the tiny man working so hard to get her off.

Callie watched Duncan as he hugged the nipple with his legs, squeezing it as hard as he could with his thighs. His full-mast dick humped into the nipple as his butt brushed over her areola with each thrust. His hands gave the top of the nipple a deep massage. The sight of his whole body going full bore to tame her teat was enough to push her over the edge.

She couldn’t stop herself from screaming in ecstasy, but she did cover the top of her left boob and her little Dunky with her left hand. That protected him somewhat from the deafening volume of her cry as well as all the violent motions of her body as pure, unadulterated pleasure shot through her, causing her body to twist and stretch in all different directions.

When Callie’s orgasm had finally passed, she lifted the hand covering Duncan. A small splotch of gooey white stuck to her nipple told her that he had just as much fun as she did, as did the goofy smile on his face. He stared at her adoringly as he lay atop her tit, and she couldn’t help but scoop him up with her left hand and bring him to her lips for long, loving kiss.

“Apology accepted,” she said once her lips released him. “Let’s fight again soon.”

********

As the elevator doors opened, Alyssia stepped out onto the 44th floor of the Shale building.

It was the end of the work day for her, but she wanted to check in with Research before heading home for the evening. She had them hard at work looking into any angle they could find regarding Natasha, the girls with the blue streaks, and anything else that might help them figure out what happened to Duncan.

“You always know when to come around,” a gruff voice greeted her as she walked past rows of exposed desks. “It’s not much, but I think we found something.”

Each employee sat at a desk, typing furiously at their keyboard and keeping their eyes glued to their computer monitors, not even acknowledging Alyssia’s presence. She didn’t pay them any attention either, although she probably wouldn’t have been able to make much out if she tried.

“I’m pretty sure we talked about the lighting last time I was down here, Arnold,” she addressed the man who engaged her first. “The time before that, too. Actually, every time. Why do you have to keep shit so dim down here?”

Arnold continued to approach Alyssia until he was only a couple feet in front of her. He was an older man with very short black hair wearing a navy blue three-piece suit that could barely contain his chiseled physique. His steps, like Alyssia’s, were silenced by the dull beige carpet laid all over the room.

“This is what I’m used to,” he told her. “My last job had the whole building lit like this.”

Alyssia shook her head in annoyance.

“If you want to take the pay cut and go back to the NSA, be my fucking guest,” she said. “Now, what did you have to show me?”

Arnold gave Alyssia a nod and motioned for her to follow him. He led her to a larger monitor, about the same size as a 75-inch TV, mounted on the middle of the white wall at the back of the room. It was displaying a still of a house from a camera across the street.

“This is the home of Natasha Chalmers,” he explained. “We installed one of her cameras onto a tree across the street after you gave us her name.”

Alyssia nodded along as Arnold continued.

“It had been pretty quiet at the location for the first few weeks. It looked like the place had been abandoned,” he explained. “But that changed yesterday. Let me show you.”

Arnold hit a button on the touchscreen monitor and the video began playing. For the first few minutes, the only movement on the screen was a man jogging around the block, and Alyssia was starting to get frustrated. Then, a woman walked into the shot from the bottom of the screen. Her hair was blonde, but Alyssia quickly identified the blue streaks mixed in.

“That’s her!” Alyssia said.

Arnold looked at her with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“That it is,” he said.

The two of them watched as she entered the house through the unlocked front door. Arnold fast-forwarded an hour ahead, watching the jogger whiz by the house several times at way too fast a speed. Then the front door opened once more. They got their first good look at the face of the girl with the blue streaks, and it had frustration written all over it. He paused the video.

“Have you ID’ed her yet?” Alyssia asked.

Arnold’s grin evaporated, his expression returning to a natural scowl.

“Not yet, ma’am,” he answered. “We don’t have direct access to a government database, so this shit takes time. Of course, we might be able to speed things along if you’d let me pull the people watching the livefeeds of the outsides of Voss’s apartment and Sanders’s dorm.”

Alyssia shot him a nasty glare.

“No, you’re to keep people watching Callie’s and Ada’s places at all times. Just the outsides, too. Give them their privacy,” she said with authority. “Is that understood?”

Arnold’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Understood,” he said. “But maybe if you told me the nature of the threat, we could better—”

Aylssia’s gaze softened a bit as she cut Arnold off.

“I wish I could, Arnie,” she said. “But that information is being kept tight. You just have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Arnold smiled and reached down to put his right hand on her right shoulder.

“A hardass like you?” he said in an almost teasing voice. “Yeah, I trust your judgment.”

Alyssia thanked him then turned to walk away. Arnold didn’t let go of his gentle grasp on her shoulder, however.

“There’s something else on the footage you need to see, ma’am,” he said.

Arnold let go of Alyssia and resumed the video, and the woman walked back to the public sidewalk. As soon as she got there, however, the jogger from before stopped and began to chat with her. It was subtle, but Alyssia noticed that something was off about the jogger’s body language.

“They aren’t just talking, are they?” she asked.

Arnold looked at her with a smirk on his face.

“You always were sharp, ma’am,” he said. “That’s a field debriefing if I’ve ever seen one.”

After several minutes, the jogger resumed his run, only he ran back in the direction from which he came. The girl with the blue streaks pulled a phone out of her jeans pocket and lifted it to her ear as stepped off camera.

“So what are you telling me?” Alyssia asked Arnold.

The man gave her a sympathetic frown.

“Whatever you guys are into,” Arnold said, “I’d say you’re dealing with a well-organized group.”

Chapter End Notes:

How's my writing? Let me know at 555-positive-reviews-only-please or just submit a review, good or bad; the number lies!


Ada vs. the Sultry Showoffs

Word Count: 12304
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

This one took a bit longer than usual because I ended up scrapping my initial concept for a large part of the chapter and figure out what to do with it instead. I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out, though. If you have a minute (or a few shit tons of them if you write reviews like I do) when you're done, it'd be cool if you let me now what you think!

Monica’s bare feet were propped atop the luxury marble coffee table in her living room as she stared blankly at random programming playing on the 85-inch TV directly in front of her. The sofa’s light brown Italian leather was warm to the touch as her arms sank into the back of the soft, full-grained couch.

Her hair was a knotted mess, disheveled and scattered about her shoulders. She wore a gray t-shirt with the faded word “COLUMBIA” stretched across her protruding chest. Raggedy black sweatpants stretched down her elegantly long legs, the pant legs stopping at her ankles.

It was the third consecutive day that Monica had not gone into the office. While her mind was mostly elsewhere, she was at least thankful that Alyssia and Duncan had taken up most of her duties in her absence, rescheduling meetings and taking extra work for themselves for her sake.

She would have to apologize to Alyssia later for ignoring the constant flood of calls and texts from the secretary. Duncan was less bothersome, leaving her a single voicemail each day asking if she was okay. He knew her so well.

“The fuck’s your problem?” a tiny voice called out from the edge of the table.

Monica pulled her eyes away from the screen and looked down to her right. Kristie was standing on the table by the top of the ladder and staring up at her. Monica noted that Kristie’s plain white t-shirt and gray pants were a bit tight on her, giving the giantess a nice view of the tinies curves.

It took Monica a moment to respond to the inquisitive tiny. This was the first time Kristie had initiated a conversation with her since she told Monica about her past three days prior. Monica couldn’t bring herself to speak to Kristie during that time, either. Even now, it was hard for Monica to look at her without guilt overtaking her.

“Problem?” Monica asked, just managing to keep her voice level. “What would bring you to suggest something is wrong?”

Monica looked on curiously as Kristie didn’t immediately answer, showing Monica her right index finger in an ‘I need a minute’ gesture. She walked toward Monica’s foot, stopping just inches from its side. Kristie tilted her head upward with deliberate slowness, her eyes scanning the giant foot from heel to toe and back again, an unsure expression on her face.

“You fucking with me right now?” Kristie asked as her attention briefly shifted from the foot in front of her to Monica herself. “You look like ass, you won’t get the fuck out of the house and go to work, and you look like someone shot your God damned dog. Something’s bothering you. Just fucking say what it is.”

Kristie cautiously reached out with her right hand, giving the fleshy monolith a few testing pokes with four of her fingers. Monica began to wonder if maybe Kristie hadn’t heard her and if she should repeat the question but was too enraptured with whatever it was that the tiny girl was doing.

Then she planted that same hand firmly into the side of Monica’s foot just above the heel, extending her arm straight and leaning on it with her full body weight. Monica could feel tiny fingers just barely digging into the smooth skin of her foot, sending an odd tingly feeling all the way up her leg. Monica was surprised to see contentment in Kristie’s expression as she gave a soft sigh.

“I … I’ve been thinking about you,” Monica found herself admitting, much to her own surprise. “What you went through when you were younger and … and what I did to you.”

Kristie took her hand off of Monica’s foot. The relaxed look on Kristie’s face was wiped away, replaced by one that appeared more … sympathetic? She brushed her bangs out of her eyes as she walked along Monica’s calf until she reached the end of the table facing her humongous hostess.

Kristie sat down along the edge of the table, her crossed legs swaying gently as they dangled over it. She leaned back slightly with her arms stretching behind her to prop herself up. Suddenly, Monica went from not being able to look at Kristie out of shame to not being able to look away from her.

“Do you know why I was always so afraid of you?” Kristie asked.

The question pulled Monica back to reality, blinking for the first time since Kristie started walking away from her foot.

“You were afraid of me?” Monica asked. “You were always so … unsavory around me, so I find that hard to believe.”

Kristie let out a soft sigh and looked to her right, where the lower portion of Monica’s thigh was waiting for her. Monica’s heart skipped a beat as the tiny woman reached out and patted her leg a few times with her right hand.

“It wasn’t because you’re top shit or anything like that,” Kristie said, ignoring Monica’s question. “You weren’t the first suit I’ve had to deal with. All you fucks think you’re better than everyone else, and it pisses me off too much to be scared of it.”

Kristie turned back toward Monica, her gaze carrying a soft intensity that captivated the colossal CEO.

“I could never tell what you were thinking,” Kristie explained. “Most people are super easy to read, to take advantage of. Not you, though. I never knew what was going through your head when you were looking at me, and that … that scared the piss out of me.”

Careful not to move her legs, Monica pushed back off the sofa and leaned forward a little, feeling herself being drawn to Kristie. The executive marveled at the teeny tiny girl, dwarfed by her lower leg, let alone her feet standing in the background, towering over her like a pair of two-story buildings.

How could someone so small feel this powerful? Monica had to be careful not to brush her off the table with her leg accidentally, yet, in that moment, she felt helpless as she hung on Kristie’s every word. What was happening to her?

“That changed the first night you brought me here,” Kristie continued. “You remember how you flipped the fuck out when we were talking about Duncan? I’ve been able to read you ever since.”

Kristie broke eye contact with Monica, looking down at her lap. Monica, no longer held by Kristie’s tiny gaze, fell back into the sofa as though she had been physically dropped on it.

“That’s how I knew you weren’t going to … put me inside you,” Kristie said. “I could see it on your face when you told Duncan and Goldicunt what you were going to do to me. You were going to back out.”

Kristie’s legs stopped swaying over the ledge of the table. She sat up straight and looked up at Monica, although Monica noticed that she wasn’t looking directly at her this time, instead staring off beyond her right shoulder.

“That’s why I said what I did to Duncan,” Kristie said.

Monica’s eyes went wide as realization hit her.

“You were using Duncan to provoke me,” she said. “You didn’t really mean those nasty words you said to him.”

While Monica had figured out that Kristie verbally attacked Duncan in order to upset Monica herself, she couldn’t even begin to understand why the tiny woman would have wanted to do this. Monica couldn’t even come up with a theory or even a guess that remotely made any sense.

“I wasn’t exactly lying either,” Kristie admitted. “It was more like, I needed it to be true. I needed Duncan to be acting like a little bitch about it.”

Kristie turned her head slightly, just enough for her eyes to meet Monica’s.

“Because if he wasn’t, i-if what I did fucked him up that much, then that means that I …”

As Kristie trailed off, she looked down at her lap. It was hard to tell from the distance separating the two of them, but Monica thought she saw her puny guest’s eyes starting to water.

“But why intentionally anger me?” Monica asked. “If you thought I wasn’t going to go act on my earlier … punishment, why would you risk me following through with it anyway?”

Kristie didn’t look up from her lap, keeping her head down as she answered.

“I had to know,” she murmured, just barely audible to Monica. “I had to see for myself what it was like. I figured if I pissed you off enough, you’d stuff me in there, l-like I did him.”

Finally looking up again, Kristie, even through her sadness, managed a light chuckle.

“I didn’t think you’d do it right then and there, though,” she said. “That was a fuck of a surprise.”

Monica didn’t laugh. She was too busy replaying the incident that she had been trying so desperately to put out of her head for the past few days. No, even before finding out about Kristie’s childhood trauma. As good as it felt in the moment, Monica had been consumed with regret ever since she made Kristie her personal sex toy.

It was time to finally stop fighting it.

“I’m sorry,” Monica whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Kristie sat there for a few seconds, staring up at Monica crying in stunned silence. Then she rose to her feet.

“Are you fucking stupid?!” she asked. “I just said that I tricked you into doing it. You didn’t force me. I fucking wanted you to do it. Why the fuck are you crying?”

Monica was unfazed by the harshness of Kristie’s questions. She now understood why the tiny girl lashed out like that. She knew that this was Kristie, in her own way, showing concern for her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Monica answered. “I didn’t know your intentions. I still blackmailed you. I still, as far as I knew, forced you inside me. I still raped you. No technicality can change that.”

As soon as she stopped speaking, an unexpected tightness overtook her throat as an unexpected tear leaked from her right eye and the crying began anew. Such emotional displays were foreign to her, especially since her little guest had moved in and the need to maintain her stoic front became necessary even in her own home. But now she was really struggling to regain control of herself.

Monica took a deep breath, both to calm herself down and in preparation to ask a question she already knew she didn’t want to know the answer to.

“How was it? In there, I mean,” she asked.

Kristie leaned her back into Monica’s calf as she squeezed herself tightly, looking straight ahead into the vast emptiness of the open-concept kitchen nearby.

“It was hell,” Kristie said flatly. “I still have nightmares about it.”

Monica cringed at the thought of haunting Kristie’s dreams.

“It’s never you doing it to me, though,” Kristie said. “I-it’s me. I’m always stuffing myself up my own cunt. I’m always laughing at my own screams. I’m always calling myself a pussy for crying about it, just like I did to Duncan.”

The small warmth on the side of Monica’s calf was something she found oddly soothing, even with all the emotional turmoil inside her. It was so tranquil and relaxing to feel Kristie’s presence through her pants. Monica started to wonder how it might feel for Kristie to lay against her bare skin instead.

“I know you already told me once, but I need to hear it again,” Monica said, pushing that thought out of her mind. “How could you do what you did to Duncan? I don’t understand, especially after hearing that you yourself were abused when you were younger. Did you really care so little for him?”

Much to Monica’s chagrin, Kristie pushed herself off of her calf.

“That’s the thing. I really did care about him,” Kristie explained with a derisive chuckle. “It wasn’t love, because that shit isn’t real, but he was the one person I could really trust, and I fucked it up.”

She turned to face Monica and started walking toward her once again.

“What I told you before wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t really the truth, either,” Kristie said. “It was just what I told myself to pretend that what I did wasn’t as fucked up as it actually was.”

Once she reached the edge of the table, she took Monica by surprise as she started climbing up the side of her pant leg.

“What are you doing?” Monica asked, her voice laced purely with curiosity.

Monica could see the blush on Kristie’s cheeks as she continued to climb.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Kristie answered with slight uncertainty. “Besides, you wanted to touch me so bad the other day, so shut the fuck up and don’t complain when I touch you.”

Kristie pulled herself onto Monica’s shin and started to walk toward her.

“When I first opened my door back up and found Duncan all tiny like that, I panicked,” Kristie recalled as she pulled herself up on Monica’s shin. “My first thought was how pretty much anything could kill him now, so I threw him in a cage to keep him safe. Yeah, I know how stupid and terrible that sounds now, but I didn’t know what to do, so fuck off!”

Monica froze, afraid to move a muscle, as she felt Kristie’s tiny footsteps through the fabric of her sweatpants, terrified that the smallest twitch on her part would send her minuscule guest plummeting to her death on the Brazilian Rosewood floor below.

“When I saw him in that cage, it did stuff to me,” Kristie continued as she made her way over Monica’s kneecap. “I never knew I was into that sort of thing, but it was just so hot seeing him in there, needing me to get out. I ended up putting bedding in there with him, like I was just going to keep him there the whole time.”

As Kristie worked her way up Monica’s thigh, the businesswoman could feel her concern giving way to another feeling she couldn’t quite place. Or maybe it was just that Monica didn’t want to place it.

Please don’t walk over my lap, Monica thought, embarrassed by the wetness building between her thighs.

“I told myself I’d let him out once he got pissed enough to lose his shit and yell at me, but he never did,” Kristie said. “He asked nicely a couple times, but I figured he wasn’t too serious if he was still being polite about it, so I kept him in there.”

Much to Monica’s relief, Kristie didn’t approach her wet crotch. Instead, the little woman went to the far right side of her lap and started climbing up the side of her shirt.

“It was the fourth day of him being shrunk; that’s when it happened,” Kristie said as she hoisted herself up Monica’s hourglass hip. “I had a shit day at work, and Duncan looked real miserable. I decided that what we both needed was a good fuck. He said no at first and even pissed me off a little, but I just knew that I could get him into it, that it would make him feel better.”

Monica could hear Kristie grunting from time to time as she made her way up the gigantic girl’s side. Monica knew that she should have felt annoyed that Kristie was climbing her without permission, but she didn’t. At all.

This is all just so … cute! Monica mused with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Is that intentional on her part? Maybe an odd way to show affection?

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, as the seriousness of Kristie’s story took precedence.

“I didn’t notice it at the time, but I carried him like an asshole. You’re so much more considerate about shit like that than I was,” Kristie admitted, the top of her head now level with the underside of Monica’s right breast. “Fuck, it felt so good taking his clothes off, having that much control for once.”

When Kristie started scurrying up the side of Monica’s breast, the tiny climber grabbed a handful of tit-flesh through the thin fabric of Monica’s shirt, causing the giantess to shiver just a little bit. That was enough to halt Kristie’s progress, however, as she squeezed even harder to keep from falling all the way down to the sofa far below.

“Shit! The fuck was that?!” Kristie yelled. “You trying to kill me?!”

She took a minute to regain her composure as Monica’s breast wobbled for longer than the rest of her body.

“A-apologies,” Monica said. “That just felt so goo … Uh, I mean, it was just so unexpected is all. You took me by surprise.”

Thankfully, Kristie either didn’t hear or didn’t care about Monica’s near admission, instead merely grumbling in annoyance as she hoisted herself atop Monica’s tit.

“Like I was saying,” Kristie said as she hoisted herself atop Monica’s tit, “something happened to me when I went to take his clothes off. He … he finally stood up to me in the middle of undressing him. I knew he was serious and that I needed to stop. But, I-I just didn’t want to, and it pissed me off that he was trying to make me stop.”

Kristie scrambled up Monica’s collarbone and took a seat on the unkempt giantess’s shoulder.

“All my life, someone was always there to tell me no whenever I really wanted something,” Kristie explained. “Friends, a real family, a place I could call home; there was always somebody there to take it away from me. In that moment, I wanted Duncan in a way I can’t even explain, and I wasn’t about to let that be taken away from me. Not again.”

Monica could feel the determination in Kristie’s words as she was seemingly reliving that moment, or that feeling at least. It reminded Monica of how sure of herself she was when she punished Kristie—how there was no doubt that the right thing to do was to make Kristie feel what Duncan felt.

Monica also remembered how fleeting that feeling was once the deed had been done and the emptiness that remained in its place afterward. So she already knew how Kristie’s story was going to end.

“I said evil shit to him the whole time,” Kristie said, sounding a little choked up. “Teasing him about his dick and fuck else. I don’t even know why I said that shit. It just started coming out of my mouth, and I couldn’t stop. I just couldn’t fucking stop!”

Kristie started to full-on sob into her hands. Monica carefully reached back with her right hand, making sure to move her shoulder as slowly as possible, and pulled some of her hair around to shield Kristie from the outside world. Monica knew there was no one else around to see Kristie in her vulnerable state, but it just felt right to her.

“A-after I … after he was done, I … I-I took my turn,” Kristie said, barely getting the words out. “I told m-myself … that he got his, so it was … fuck! It was only fair that I got mine. J-just shoved him right in! H-he tried to scream but I … I just pretended not to hear it. Jesus fuck, what’s wrong with me?!”

From there, Kristie completely broke down, reduced to a bumbling mess unable to speak coherently.

“It’s alright,” Monica said, holding back her own emotions for Kristie’s sake. “Just let it all out. Don’t leave anything inside.”

Despite her words, she was confused. She knew she should hate Kristie for what she did, and part of her was still angry about it. But she also related to what Kristie was saying, perhaps in a way no one else in the world could. The situation may have been different, as was the motivation, but she too had felt exactly those feelings that Kristie was trying to describe.

Likewise, Monica understood just how heavy a burden the guilt that comes afterward could be. So she sat there for several minutes while Kristie just sobbed, wishing she could do something to help her, despite everything.

Eventually, the crying died down, and a somber Kristie broke the silence.

“I felt like shit as soon as I finished getting off,” she continued as though she had never stopped. “I put him in his cage, locked it, and went on a walk. Those screams I ignored before kept bouncing around in my head, only they were so much louder and easier to understand. I just wanted them to go away, but they wouldn’t listen.”

Kristie’s tired, drained voice did nothing to hide the pain of her words from Monica, who herself struggled throughout that first night to shut out the echoes of Kristie’s incoherent ramblings after being removed from her sex.

“My walk turned into a run, and it felt like everyone was staring at me, even though there was no one else even around,” Kristie said. “By the time I got back home, I was a nervous fucking wreck. I laid on the floor and curled up into a ball, covering my ears, like that shit would help. The screams just got four fucktons louder.”

It should feel good to hear that she suffered so much after what she did to Duncan, Monica thought. Why doesn’t it feel good? Why does it hurt to hear this? She deserved it. So why do I feel so sorry for her?

“I just kept on repeating, ‘He’s my boyfriend, so it’s fine,” over and over like it was my God damned mantra or something,” Kristie remembered. “Even back then I knew that was no excuse, but I made myself believe that bullshit. I had to. I basically kept lying to myself until the screaming stopped.”

Monica resisted the urge to nod, concerned that she might accidentally knock Kristie off her shoulder. But Monica was familiar with the excuses as well, having made plenty herself over the past month or so.

But no more, Monica told herself. There will be no more running from what I did.

“I slept on the couch that night; even pretending everything was fine, I couldn’t bring myself to face him so soon after,” Kristie explained. “It wasn’t until I went to check on him in the morning that I realized just how bad I fucked up. I knew he was slick, but the little fucker picked the padlock I put on the cage and got himself out.”

A slight tug on her hair and the feeling of itty bitty toes on her shoulder told Monica that Kristie had pulled herself up to her feet.

“I searched the whole house, begging him to come out and promising him that shit would get better,” Kristie remembered. “I even went outside and looked for him. I hadn’t felt that alone in a long time.”

Monica could feel Kristie walking toward her head.

“Then, after blue-streak bitch showed up asking questions, I started telling myself the whole thing was Duncan’s fault and fuck him for leaving!” Kristie said. “So I packed my shit and left, trying to forget about him. But I always knew, deep down. What I did to him. Whose fault it really was that he left. I just didn’t want to face it.”

Kristie stepped past Monica’s ear, toward the giant woman’s face, as she emerged from a curtain of dark hair. Monica was caught off guard when she felt Kristie’s teeny tiny arms wrap around a small portion of her right cheek.

“Thank you,” Kristie said. “Doing what you did, it actually helped me deal with this shit. Now I can’t hide from what I did or why I did it. You look at it like this terrible thing you did, but I fucking needed it, in a way I never would have figured out on my own. So stop feeling so fucking bad about it, okay?”

Not knowing what to feel or how to react, Monica brought her left hand to Kristie’s back, holding the puny woman against her cheek.

“I’ll try,” Monica answered. “I really will .I-I don’t know if I’ll succeed, but you trying to make me feel better helps more than I can properly express. Thank you.”

She could feel Kristie nodding in acknowledgment as the tiny girl’s head stayed against her cheek.

“Also, if you ever tell anyone that I cried in front of you or that I hugged you, I’ll crawl down your throat in your sleep and rip out your voice box,” Kristie said casually.

Monica pressed Kristie deeper into her cheek, keeping her in place as she started laughing hard. Kristie joined in as well, the two women giggling almost hysterically as all of the emotions of the past several moments finally overwhelmed them both.

********

 As the sound of the front door closing echoed throughout the apartment, Duncan couldn’t help but smile as Callie was bouncing eagerly from her seated position on the side of her bed.

“Callie? Duncan?” Ada shouted from the living room. “You guys here?”

Duncan appreciated Ada including him as she called out to them. She knew there was no way she could hear his answer unless he was pretty much where she could see him, but she still always did stuff like that to make him feel like he was as normal as anyone else. It was a really nice gesture on her part.

“In my room!” Callie practically squealed. “Come on back!”

Standing on the nightstand next to where she was sitting, Duncan was a tad nervous. He had never done anything like this before. Well, that wasn’t true, but it would be different this time. Still, he took comfort in how giddy Callie seemed to be about the whole thing. She could barely stay in her seat!

A matter of seconds later, Ada stepped into the room. She was wearing a basic ensemble of jeans and a slate blue t-shirt with the words “BOOM SPOCKA LAKA” emblazoned on it just beneath the drawing of a man with a bowl cut, pointy ears, and an intensely neutral look upon his face.

“Hey guys!” she said with a wave as she started to make her way to the side of the bed opposite the doorway, where Callie and Duncan were.

Callie scooted over to make more room for Ada, accidentally bumping the nightstand with her knee, the resulting quake knocking Duncan on his ass. He looked up to see Callie’s eyes still glued on Ada, not even noticing the collision. He shook his head as he chuckled softly. She was too cute to be annoyed with at the moment.

“C’mere,” Callie said as she patted the wide space cleared on the side of the bed specifically for Ada. “Sit, sit, sit!”

Ada, however, walked past the space and to the nightstand. Duncan noticed her eyes were zeroed in on him as she stood before him. He gave her a wordless thumbs up to let her know that he was fine, and she nodded without saying a word.

She offered him her right palm as she set it on the table beside him, and he stepped onto it without questioning her. He knew she liked to hold him, and he didn’t mind. With him in position, she lifted the hand up and took her seat beside Callie on the bed. With her free hand, she gripped the center of the left temple of her glasses with her thumb and forefinger, rubbing it awkwardly between the two digits.

“Um, Man, now that I’m here, it feels a little different, huh?” Ada asked with a nervous chuckle. “I know Dr. Catamanut is looking forward to this data, but it’s really more of a curiosity for him rather than something that is going to help you get back to normal size.”

Duncan looked up at her as he stood in the palm of her hand.

“Yeah, you made that pretty clear before, but it’s no problem, really,” he said, being mostly truthful. “Why say that again now? Are you not okay with this?”

Ada fidgeted slightly, just enough for Duncan to stumble in her hand. Her index, middle, and ring fingers moved with the speed of striking cobras to catch him but landed on his back with surprising grace and softness. The fingers retreated as his balance stabilized, flattening out to give him a level surface to stand on.

“Sorry!” she apologized. “I guess I do have a bit of nerves about this. I know I’ll only be watch … er, observing only, but I’ve never been in the same room when … you know.”

Duncan found himself covered in shade. He looked up to see Callie’s right hand land on Ada’s right shoulder.

“You’re makin’ a big thing outta this,” Callie chimed in. “You watch porn. This is pretty much the same thing. Except you know the stars. And it’s, like, for science and everything!”

 Duncan chuckled at the hypocrisy of his girlfriend’s words.

She’s making a big deal out of this?” he asked. “You’ve been talking about this nonstop for days!”

 Callie tilted her head downward to glare at Duncan, scrunching her nose cutely as she stuck her tongue out at him. Droplets of her saliva, likely imperceptible to her, splashed against his chest and face.

“I get what you’re saying, Callie, but it’s different seeing it in person,” Ada cut in, ignoring the exchange between the couple. “At least I think it’ll be different. I, uh, I’ve never even been alone with a boy … intimately. Kissing is as far as I’ve gone.”

Callie reached out for Ada again, this time below Duncan instead of above him. The blonde bombshell took hold of Ada’s free hand as she looked the black-haired beauty square in the eye.

“Like, we know you’re not experienced,” Callie said. “You’ve actually told both Dunky and I that at different times. We talked about it last night, and both of us are, like, really grateful that you trust us enough to share that with us. But honestly, we were both a little surprised that it never happened for you.”

Ada’s face took on a confused expression.

“Surprised?” she asked. “Why does it surprise you that no one’s ever wanted to sex me up?”

Despite the sad, slightly tense vibe of the conversation, Duncan had a hard time suppressing a laugh. He didn’t want her to think that he was making fun of the way she talked. In fact, he found it kind of cute.

Sex her up? he mused, chuckling internally. Never change, Ada.

“Because you’re hot in the most adorable way possible,” Callie said in a serious voice. “Like, you’re rockin’ that Battlestar Galactica shirt!”

Duncan took a seat on the breast of Ada’s palm as she sighed deeply. He knew they would probably be there for a while.

“This is Spock. From Star Trek? ‘Live long and prosper?’ Come on, Callie!” she said in frustration. “I’m still trying to decide whether it’s better or worse that you didn’t guess Star Wars. Probably better. God, just being caught wearing this shirt would be enough to get me banned from the Sith Lords subreddit. Those guys are ruthless!”

Callie put her other hand on Ada’s other shoulder, signaling her to stop before she spiraled any deeper down her nerd wormhole.

“I know who Spock is, Ada,” Callie said with a smile. “Honestly? I’ve been gettin’ shit like that wrong for weeks just to see you go off like that. You have no idea how fuckin’ cute it is!”

Duncan cleared his throat as loudly as possible and both girls turned their full attention to him. This conversation was getting way off track, so he took it upon himself to steer things back in the proper direction.

He stood up, something Ada took as a sign to lift him up to her face so that he could better contribute to the conversation. Like usual, she was slow and gentle in elevating him in her palm, so much so that he kept his balance during the entirety of the ride.

“Hey Callie,” Duncan addressed his girlfriend, “do you think I could talk to Ada alone for a minute?”

With a quiet nod, Callie stood up from the bed.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she said. “No problem.”

She walked out of the room, curiously peeking over her left shoulder at the doorway. Duncan gave her a wink that made her lips curl up into a soft smile as she closed the door.

“What’s up?” Ada asked, keeping Duncan level with her eyes.

He walked to the butt of her palm, stopping just short of stepping onto her wrist.

“Are you okay with this?” Duncan asked her. “I know when we had our … talk after that meeting when Kristie showed up, you looked a little down.”

Ada shot Duncan a confident smile.

“I’m good,” she said. “No seriously, I swear I’m good. I thought that maybe I had feelings for you before, but I think it was more, um, more my social awkwardness and … uh, your size maybe? It does have a certain … appeal to it that I can’t explain. But really, seeing Callie and you together, happy and perfect, I couldn’t be happier that you guys are together now.”

Ada pulled her hand slightly further away from her face, making sure Duncan could see the sincerity of her expression.

“You’re quite literally the coolest, most down-to-earth person I’ve ever met,” she continued. “I had so much fun when you taught me how to cook, and it means so much to me that you humor me when I want to pick you up. Whenever I need to talk, you’re there. You’re my best friend.”

Duncan felt his eyes water slightly at being called Ada’s best friend.

“I … I never really had that in my life before, and for a little while I thought I was in love with you,” she continued. “But when you told me you didn’t feel the same, hanging out with you didn’t feel any different. I realized that’s what I loved: the time we spent together as friends.”

Ada took a deep breath and had a much more relaxed look on her face, as though she had just gotten a major burden off her chest.

“So if you’re concerned that I’m going to feel jealous or depressed or something watching you guys do your thing, don’t be,” she explained. “You telling me you didn’t feel that way about me really helped me get myself together, and I can certainly be professional during this test.”

Duncan breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure if agreeing to this had been the right decision largely because of how Ada might have felt about him. Hearing that she had moved past those feelings made him feel a lot better about the situation. Now, all he had to do was try to make sure he created the best experience possible for Callie.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” he said. “But maybe you don’t have to be quite so professional about this.”

Ada gave Duncan a quizzical look.

“Okay, here’s the thing,” he said. “You saw how excited Callie was just now, right? Well, she’s, uh, into being watched while we … well, while we fuck.”

As awkward as this conversation was, Duncan couldn’t help but chuckle at just how wide Ada’s eyes became in that moment.

“Callie’s an exhibitionist?!” she asked. “She’s so sweet and innocent, though. I’d never guess that she’d be into something like that.”

Duncan’s jaw dropped.

“There’s a word for this?” he asked.

Ada eagerly explained everything she knew about the subject of exhibitionism, with Duncan carefully listening to every word. Given how much Callie had embraced his foot fetish, he wanted to do everything he could to do the same for his girlfriend’s own kink.

After several minutes of Ada educating him on the subject, the question of how Callie discovered this new part of herself came up.

“It started on our first date,” he explained, already feeling his cheeks warm with embarrassment over what he was about to admit. “On the ride back to the apartment, I … I rode back in her panties, you now, warming her up. I guess Alyssia must have been giving her looks in the rear view mirror, and it awakened something in her.”

The only comfort Duncan had in that moment was that Ada’s cheeks were as red as he assumed his were.

“Wow!” she said with a smirk. “Our lobster bisque must have turned out amazing for your date to have ended like that!”

Ada giggled a little too hard at her own joke, causing the flesh beneath Duncan’s feet to become unsteady. He crouched down to keep his balance until the shaking subsided. Of course, he knew well enough by now that she was just using humor to mask her embarrassment, but he’d let her get away with it.

“Ha, fucking, ha,” he said. “Anyway, Callie realized that she likes it when people watch her. I don’t know if it’s just with me because of my size or if it’s just her kink in general, but she’s into this. That’s why we agreed to help Catamaunt with this. It wasn’t for him; Callie was so into the idea of you watching us that we couldn’t say no.”

No sooner had Duncan stood up from his crouched position than he was knocked on his butt from a nervous tremble shooting through Ada’s hand.

“W-What?” she asked. “You mean Callie is going to get … excited because I’m going to watch you guys have sex?”

Not bothering to get back up just yet, a seated Duncan gave Ada’s palm a few gentle pats.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said. “Honestly, if I was any smaller, I might have drowned on the ride back to the apartment that night.”

Despite Ada’s clear nervousness, Duncan could see something else behind those green eyes of hers, although he couldn’t place what it was.

“So what I’m trying to say is that I think if you were to act a little … less than professional, it would make the experience even better for her,” he said. “She didn’t say that outright, but she did mention a few times that you told her you watch Pornhub quite a bit? She said if you were into that, you might be into watching us fuck too.”

Duncan waited for Ada to say something, but she just stared back at him silently.

“I’m not asking you to fake anything,” he broke the silence. “All I’m saying is that if you feel a certain way while ‘observing’ us, don’t be afraid to, um, act on those feelings if you feel the need to … touch parts of yourself, if you know what I mean. We’re not going to judge you, and I’m telling you that Callie would love it. There’s just something about knowing someone else is as into it as we are that drives her wild.”

Slowly, Ada’s blank expression morphed into a smile.

“I understand,” she said. “Should I call Callie back in now?”

To say Duncan was surprised was an understatement. He expected Ada to ask questions, express doubts, and maybe even back out of the whole thing. But she seemed to just accept everything he had just told her. He couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head as he gave her the okay to call for Callie.

Ada waited patiently for Duncan to cover his ears and closed her fingers around him before raising her voice.

“We’re good now, Callie!” she shouted. “Come on back!”

Duncan felt the gentle weight of Ada’s fingers lift off him as they uncurled and flattened level with her palm. That same smile was on her face as she looked down at him with a warmth that put him completely at ease.

“Awesome!” Callie said as she reentered the room, a string of about a foot in length in her right hand. “I had an idea while you guys were talkin’. You guys get everything worked out?”

Ada and Duncan both nodded, earning an eager grin from a now-seated Callie, who was moving her hand close to Ada’s. Duncan glanced Ada’s way and gave her a playful wave as he got a running start and leaped the small gap between the two palms, causing Callie to gasp and rush her left hand under the gap in case he didn’t make it.

“I hate it when you do shit like that,” an exasperated Callie chided him as soon as his feet touched down on the center of her palm. “You coulda waited until I finished moving to just walk over.”

Duncan dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

“It was only, what, three inches?” he said. “Do you really think I can’t even jump my own body length?”

Callie rolled her eyes and didn’t bother answering him. Instead, she confirmed with Ada that the girl with glasses still wanted to move forward with the test and squealed when the answer was yes. During Callie’s celebration, Ada stood up and reached into her right jean pocket and pulled out a water bottle scaled to Duncan’s size.

“The nanomachines are mixed in with this water,” Ada explained as she handed it to Duncan. “Just drink it down and they’ll send various data from inside your body to my phone to report to Dr. Catamaunt. Just make sure not to spill any; he told me how difficult and expensive it was to make them scaled to how regular nanomachines are to normal-sized people. I’d really rather not have to sit through that lecture again!”

Duncan took the bottle, opened it, and chugged the contents, making sure that not a drop of it missed his mouth. It didn’t taste any different than regular water, something for which he was grateful. He gave the bottle back to Ada and glanced up at Callie, who was biting her lip as she hungrily stared down at him.

“Okay, I think that takes care of all the prep,” he said before smirking up at Callie. “We should probably hurry up and start. I think Callie’s about to start on her own.”

Duncan was surprised as Callie, rather than flash him the look of annoyance that he was expecting, just stared back at him with a bright smile as she set him down on the bed beside her.

“Damn right!” she said with a wink that melted his heart. “Ada, I’ve got a folding chair from the kitchen for you against the wall over there. Duncan, I’m kinda pissed that your clothes are still on. What’s the holdup?”

Duncan could have brought up that Callie was not only still fully clothed herself but wasn’t even starting to undress. But he didn’t, instead choosing to yield to his girlfriend’s silliness. With her watching his every move, he took his time taking off his shirt.

As he pulled down his pants, the loud clang of the chair being unfolded and set back on the ground filled his ears. He glanced over his right shoulder to find Ada already sitting in the seat, having set it down a few feet away from the side of the bed. He felt slightly nervous about getting naked in front of someone other than Callie, but tried to put it out of his mind.

“You coulda pulled your boxers down with your pants,” Callie said with a pout. “You do that shit all the time! Quit teasing me!”

Duncan mischievously grinned up at her. All his concerns faded away as his eyes met hers. He remembered why he had agreed to do this in the first place.

This was the woman who encouraged and indulged him when he told her about his foot fetish, something he was only just starting to fully accept about himself at the time. She could have easily laughed the whole thing off or been grossed out by it, but instead, her love and support made him feel comfortable with himself.

So if Callie wanted him to take his boxers off with another girl watching too, then Duncan would do so eagerly.

“You’re no fun,” he said as he quickly slipped off his boxers. “Also, it’s your turn.”

Callie gave a silent nod. Her arms crossed at her chest as she reached down for the bottom of her dark red t-shirt. Like a curtain on Broadway, the shirt rose gradually, revealing more and more of her slim yet defined torso as she pulled it higher up her body.

Rather than simply maneuver the shirt over her breasts, she let the hem catch under them. As she continued to lift the shirt, it started lifting them up by the underside with it until they refused to be carried any further. Then her tits slipped out from the bottom, enticing Duncan for several seconds with every bounce and clash against one another before returning to their usual business of defying gravity.

Finally pulling the shirt over her head, Callie whipped her shoulder blade-length blonde hair from side to side before leaning downward. She didn’t stop until her lips were mere inches from Duncan, a sultry look on her face.

“Still think I’m no fun?” she whispered, her cherry-scented breath blowing his hair back as he stood there speechless. “How about you, Ada?”

Callie looked up and instantly started giggling. Duncan followed her line of sight, where he found Ada looking just as stunned as was.

“I-I’m not into girls,” Ada said. “I can’t stress that enough. But that … that might be the single sexiest thing I’ve seen in my life.”

Straightening out her upper body, Callie stopped laughing and grinned smugly at their guest.

“Give us a few minutes,” she said.

Callie allowed her upper body to fall backward, a rough quake almost knocking Duncan off his feet as her back slammed into the mattress. Standing next to her left thigh, he was tripped up by the shifting comforter, falling flat on his face as she straightened her legs and raised them high above him.

By the time he pushed himself off the bedding and standing back up, she already had her left foot out of her jean shorts and panties, letting it fall below the bed’s horizon and to the ground far below with a powerful thud that he could still feel. She kicked the clothing hanging from her right ankle over Ada’s head, the shorts and undergarment crashing against the wall behind the black-haired girl.

Sitting back up, Callie paid neither Duncan nor Ada any attention as she reached out for the string she had brought in earlier, which was sitting on the bed on her right. She picked it up in her right hand, snatching Duncan up in her left, laying him down on her nude left thigh. He tried to sit up, but her right forefinger dove in and pushed into his chest, pinning him on his back.

“Nope!” she teased. “I need ya down for a sec.”

Callie removed her finger, taking the string in her left hand as her right approached Duncan.

She carefully slipped her index and middle fingers under him vertically, the smooth tips of the endless, slender digits soothingly working their way up his calves, thighs, and butt cheeks before ticking his spine as they journeyed over his back, finally coming to rest behind his head, his feet still unable to touch her palm.

Duncan was in such a blissful state from the erotic attention that he almost didn’t register being lifted in front of her bare chest.

Almost.

He was mesmerized as nipples that could barely fit in his hand already stood erect, seemingly guiding those full teardrop breasts right to him. This grand sight was just as breathtaking for him as the first time he saw them liberated from the confines of clothing. He was so engrossed in the vision before him that this time he did miss what was happening around him.

The string had made multiple rounds by the time Duncan took notice. It was wrapped around his shins and thighs several times over, effectively tying his lower half to Callie’s two fingers. She skipped over his groin area and started wrapping the string around his torso, making sure to restrain his arms as it bound his chest.

She finished the swaddling by running the end of the string through the plethora of loops created by the bondage from the back of her fingers, completing the knot with a gentle tug. Any give in the rope was now gone, and Duncan’s head and neck were the only parts of his body that he could move voluntarily, as he discovered through several seconds of futile struggling.

“There we go!” Callie said enthusiastically as she held him up to her face, her fingers standing vertically. “Perfect!”

Giving up his useless efforts to break free, Duncan stared into Callie’s hazel eyes, completely captivated by the happiness emanating from those brilliant irises. A small part of his brain was telling him that he should be scared of this development. A slightly larger part insisted that he should be annoyed at not being consulted before being tied up.

But the part that was winning the argument inside his head was the one directing all the blood flow to his penis. As unexpected as this was, he couldn’t deny that he was very much into it.

Besides, he could never go against something that made the love of his life so happy.

“Okay, so here’s what’s gonna go down,” Callie explained. “We’re gonna do a little role play.”

********

Ada was pretty sure she hadn’t blinked since she sat down.

She had just finished unfolding the chair Callie mentioned and taking a seat beside the bed when Duncan was pulling his pants down, exposing most of his muscular body to not only Callie but to her as well. Callie’s whining preceded his boxers coming off as well, leaving Ada to take in his fully nude backside as he watched Callie take her turn getting undressed.

Ada wasn’t lying when she said that Callie’s striptease was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. From the tantalizing way Callie’s breasts bounced as she took off her shirt to Ada catching just a brief whiff of Callie’s arousal as her shorts and panties were sent soaring just over Ada’s head, The girl in glasses was in awe at the show her two friends were putting on right in front of her.

Then Callie broke out the string.

Seeing Callie grab Duncan so casually, only to tie him to two of her fingers filled Ada with a mixture of concern and excitement. When she told that she didn’t have romantic feelings for him, she meant it. The same was true for when she told Callie that she wasn’t attracted to girls. But the scene that was taking place in front of her was making her wetter than indium at 156.6 degrees Celsius.

“Seriously? Role-playing?” Duncan told Callie as he was held in front of her face. “You know how much I suck at that.”

Ada couldn’t turn away as Callie moved her hand and, by extension, Duncan a little further away from her pouty countenance. The blonde’s free hand rose from her lap, forefinger extended, and pointed at his crotch.

“Please?” Callie asked cutely.

Her index finger playfully made tiny circles as it softly pressed against the tip of Duncan’s stiff cock, swirling it around with an agonizing slowness that was taking Ada’s breath away just watching.

“F-fine!” he relented.

Callie withdrew her finger, flashing Duncan the brightest, most innocent smile Ada had ever seen.

“Yay!” Callie cheered.

Duncan cleared his throat as loudly as a three-inch-tall person can, drawing both Callie and Ada’s attention.

“But nothing complicated this time,” he said, staring into Callie’s eyes. “Maybe you’re just some incredibly gorgeous, breathtakingly beautiful psycho who’s keeping me tied up, and I’ll just try to break free?”

Callie blushed at Duncan’s compliment. However, the red on her cheeks quickly faded, as did the smile on her face as her expression turned dark, almost sinister. Ada felt a chill travel down her spine.

“You think pretty words are gonna save you, ya little shit?” Callie sneered. “You’re mine, and I’ll do whatever I want with you. Got anything to say about that?”

The sudden shift in mood and tone shocked Ada. This wasn’t the sweet, kind girl she had become so close with over the past month. While she kept telling herself that Callie was just playing a role, the blonde bombshell kind of terrified her with a mere three sentences.

Ada couldn’t even imagine how scared Duncan must be to see such a drastic transformation in his girlfriend.

“Oh no. Please, have mercy,” he said in a halfhearted, almost mechanical voice. “I have prettier words, I promise.”

It was hard for Ada to suppress the giggle rising up within her at the sight of Callie’s expression shifting from something sinister to a frustrated pout, but somehow she pulled it off. Callie looked at Duncan like he had just told her no after already withholding sex for a week, which, after the many texts, calls, and conversations between Callie and her in recent weeks, Ada knew was a long time for the couple to go without.

Callie opened her mouth as though she was about to speak, but stopped, closing her lips and smirking at the little man bound against her fingers. With a slow rotation of her wrist, she turned Duncan to face Ada, stretching her long arm out so that he was right in front of Ada’s curious eyes and embarrassed cheeks.

“Help me! Help me, please!” Callie said out of the side of her mouth in a high-pitched voice, manipulating the top joints of the two fingers with each syllable to make Duncan’s head move along with the words. “This evil woman is going to do dreadful things to my tiny, fragile body if you don’t save me, Miss Ada.”

Ada did her best to keep her eyes from wandering down to Duncan’s exposed penis. Looking at it from a distance was awkward enough, but staring when he was looking right at her was a bit too personal for her, even if the naughtiness of even considering it made her heart beat a little faster.

But no, she focused on his face, which was twisted into an annoyed scowl as he did his best to look over his left shoulder, only to be met with the pad of Callie’s forefinger.

“Okay, first, if that’s how my voice actually sounds to you guys and no one bothered to tell me, fuck all of you,” Duncan said. “Second, if we’re doing this, then let me do it. That was terrible!”

Ada looked past Duncan just in time to see Callie rolling her eyes, leaving Duncan in the exact same position.

“Well, if you’re gonna do it, then do it!” Callie said. “If you’re gonna half-ass it, then I’ll just take over your part, too.”

Duncan turned away from Callie’s finger and met Ada’s gaze once again. Rather than annoyance, however, this time it was desperation that was written all over his face.

“Are you really just going to sit there and watch?” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “Don’t you see what she’s doing to me? Y-you know this is fucked up, so why aren’t you helping me?! I thought we were friends! Jesus, get me out of here! Please! Help. Me.”

Instinctively, Ada’s right hand started to gradually rise from her lap, extending toward Duncan. As it reached the midpoint in its ascent, he gave her a small smile as he looked from her hand to her eyes, calmly shaking his head. Getting the message, she retracted her hand, glancing over at Callie just in time to see her recover from her own surprise as she got back into character.

“Tell him no,” Callie ordered Ada in a quiet, sultry tone.

Ada tried to comply, but her voice caught in her throat. She was too into the moment to be a participant. As she struggled to speak, she made the mistake of letting her eyes drift downward, getting a good look at Duncan’s erection. Her right hand started to come for him once again, this time with a different purpose in mind.

It’s not because it’s Duncan’s, Ada realized internally. It’s because it’s throbbing! It’s basically begging me to touch it!

Her forefinger extended as the hand rose level with Duncan’s crotch area. She inched her fingertip closer to the head of his rock-hard cock, stopping just short of touching it. She could feel the warmth emanating from his loins. She couldn’t do it.

No matter how much she wanted to feel that manhood against her finger, the thought of making things weird between the couple and herself prevented her from doing so.

“N-no,” Ada whispered, unsure if she was talking to Duncan or herself.

Her internal struggle was interrupted by a deep moan from Callie. Then, much faster than he was placed in front of Ada, Duncan was gone.

Callie withdrew her hand and brought him in front of her cute nose, giving him a slow, sensual lick that began at the knees and traveled at a snail’s pace over his stiff dick. Her tongue lingered there for a few seconds before creeping up his stomach and rolling over his chest. The tip of her tongue brushed against his left cheek as it withdrew back into her mouth.

It was Duncan’s turn to moan as he shuddered in pleasure, a dopey look on his face.

“Miss Ada is such a tease, isn’t she,” Callie told Duncan as she shot a wink Ada’s way. “But this isn’t about you; understand, little shit? You’re here to make me happy, not the other way around.”

Ada wiped away some drool that she just realized had been pooling out of the right corner of her mouth as she watched an unblinking Duncan nod in agreement.

“Yes, Miss Callie,” he said in awe, no hint of sarcasm present in his voice.

Callie started to giggle but quickly stopped and cleared her throat, closing her eyes and taking a breath before opening them back up in character.

“And look at that,” she said. “It took, like, just one lick to lube your tiny ass up. Kinda sad, ya know? Dunky’s junky looks like he wants a few more. Oh well, down you go!”

But Duncan didn’t move. Ada could see a slight tremor run through Callie’s hand, rattling the tiny man tied to her fingers. Callie bit her lower lip and glanced Ada’s way. The blonde didn’t hold Ada’s gaze for long, however, as she nervously lowered her head to face her lap, giving Duncan a great view of the top of her head.

Is she backing out? Ada asked herself. I can’t say I blame her. I don’t even know if I could have gotten nak

Her thoughts were interrupted as Callie’s head shot back up like a rocket, the naked girl’s gorgeous hazel eyes locking with her own. There was an intensity there that Ada had never seen from Callie before, even in anger. It was a fire, a sense of determination. And it held Ada in place, forcing her to hold her friend’s gaze, her breathing getting heavier by the second.

Ada wanted to watch as Duncan was lowered away from Callie’s face, but she couldn’t look away. Instead, Ada could only imagine him dropping past those perfect breasts and tight tummy as Callie’s hand guided him to he sopping wet pussy, Callie’s eyes alight with anxious excitement the whole way down.

But just when Ada expected to hear a squelching noise to signify Duncan’s entry into her moist womanhood, there was a soft thump instead. Callie and Ada both looked down to see that Callie’s hand had missed its target, touching down on the mattress right in front of her labia. The only sound that could be heard was Duncan trying to rein in his laughter.

“Damn it!” Callie grumbled.

She repositioned her hand right in front of her lower lips, looking back up at Ada as she slipped her index and middle fingers between them with a sharp thrust. The fingers were inserted all the way up to the knuckle, with Duncan being entirely swallowed by her sex. Ada gasped, which was immediately followed by a soft moan from Callie.

Callie widened her legs further apart, drawing Ada’s attention to her sex by sensually turning her own gaze between her thighs. Callie took her time as she pulled Duncan all the way out of herself, raising him up and pointing him at Ada. Then, with a quick wrist movement, Callie flicked some of her juices from Duncan’s body right in Ada’s face, the lenses of her glasses covered in sticky little splatters.

Bringing Duncan to her lips, Callie gave him a kiss covering his whole upper body, watching Ada, demanding her attention. And Callie had it. Ada didn’t even bother to clean her glasses with her shirt. She was too worried about what she might miss if she took her eyes off Callie and Duncan for even a second.

Callie returned Duncan to her pussy, this time pushing him inside at a much slower pace, closing her eyes by still facing Ada. Her breathing quickened with every millimeter of progress he made. She halted his journey when he was halfway in, her eyes shooting open.

“Oh fuck!” Callie screamed as soon as her boyfriend was halfway inside.

Instead of sticking the rest of Duncan inside her love tunnel, Callie started fingering herself with his waist area positions between her inner and outer lips. Ada was confused at first, but as she noticed his hips gyrating with the motion of Callie’s fingers, she realized that he was humping her clit.

As Callie let out a sensual groan, Ada realized that her right hand was already in her pants. How did she not even notice herself unbuttoning her jeans? Putting that thought aside, she inserted her own index and middle fingers inside herself, never taking her eyes off the show in front of her.

She wasn’t expecting it when Callie’s eyes met hers, nor did she anticipate the pace of the blonde’s fingers to increase at the same time.

“S-stay with me, Ada,” Callie moaned. “Stay … Shit! Stay with me!”

Ada did as she was told, her fingers matching the rhythm of Callie’s as both girls lost themselves in the glorious rapture of their own touches.

********

Callie had never felt so in control in her entire life.

For the last 15 minutes, Ada had been fingering herself at the exact pace that Callie was fucking Duncan at. Because Callie had told her to. Ada was enthralled by Callie’s performance to the point of suggestion, and Callie had never felt so alive before!

Callie had been so nervous at first. But ever since that car ride home from her first date with Duncan, that lustful look on Alyssia’s face through the rear view mirror just wouldn’t leave her brain. She wanted more, and now, after weeks of being too afraid to tell anyone, she had it.

She was glad it was Ada there for her first time. She wasn’t sure if she could have worked up the courage to try something like this with anyone else. The two of them had become close so quickly, and Callie had a feeling that she might enjoy a performance like this. She was so happy to see that she was right!

Feeling just the tiniest shudder from Duncan’s body against her fingers, Callie could tell that Duncan was close. She sped up her fingers, delighting to see Ada do the same. The feeling of her Dunky’s dick grinding even faster against her clit felt so good! It was only a tease, though. She was never going to get off that way.

Some serious quivering from Duncan signaled that he had finished. She looked away from Ada for a moment and smiled down at the man in her vagina. He had been so understanding when she told him that she wanted someone to watch them make love.

Callie could tell that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea, but just as she was about to tell him not to worry about it and forget the whole thing, he surprised her by saying how hot it would be to explore this kink together. Sex-ploration, he called it.

No, seriously, it sounds kind of fun!” Callie replayed Duncan’s words in her head. “It’s almost like a performance, right? At least my co-star is hot!”

She could tell that he still had some reservations about the idea, but he wanted to make her happy, to make sure she felt accepted for her kink instead of shamed. It meant so much to her.

So Callie wanted to take care of Duncan first, and now that she had, it was her turn.

Her fingers stopped, and so did Ada’s. A little whine came out of the black-haired girl’s throat, and Callie shivered in pleasure. But she wasn’t about to keep her friend waiting, no matter how enticing it was to have her audience at the edge of their seat.

Callie began thrusting her fingers in and out of her pussy. Each time her lengthy digits dug inside herself, she could feel Duncan’s tongue licking her vaginal walls, leading the way as the rest of his body mushed into the slimy surface. She knew she was overstimulating Duncan so soon after an orgasm, but that just made it more exciting.

Besides, between how worked up she was, how good he felt, and Ada hanging on her every move, it wasn’t going to take very much longer.

In fact, by the fifth thrust, she couldn’t take anymore. The sexual bliss overtook her senses, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as her muscles tensed stiffly. Her free hand gripped the comforter of her bed as tightly as her fingers could squeeze.

“Jesus fuck!” Callie yelled as she finished.

She shook for a full minute afterward, her knees quivering like jelly as she removed Duncan from her sex. Ada stopped her fingers from penetrating her pussy, obviously disappointed that the show ended before she had a chance to get herself off as well.

Ada started to pull her hand out from her panties, but Callie couldn’t have that. Ada helped Callie discover a part of herself that she didn’t know existed, so the least she could do was help her friend find release. Callie soon realized that Duncan was staring at Ada too, and that their attention was apparently enough to stop the science whiz in her tracks.

Callie and Duncan turned to each other, the two of them instantly understanding what needed to be done.

“Hold that clit,” Callie told Ada.

Callie turned her upper body away from Ada, bringing Duncan around with her so that Ada couldn’t see him at all. Callie untied the knot holding Duncan to her fingers and reworked it to meet their new needs. She worked as fast as she could, not wanting to give Ada too much time to cool down.

“There we go!” Callie exclaimed, moving back into a sitting position.

Instead of being bound to her fingers, Duncan was dangling from about six inches of rope, the rest of which was tied to Callie’s middle finger. He was tied at the waist, and he began to sway in front of Callie’s face as she held her hand near the top of her forehead and splayed her fingers.

“You can start back up if you want,” Callie said, casually glancing back Ada’s way. “Or if you don’t wanna, that’s cool, too. Either way, don’t mind me. I’m just gonna clean off my boyfriend.”

With that, Callie’s tongue poked out from between her lips, lazily swiping at Duncan. It connected, batting him to her left and sending him swinging like a pendulum as her eyes playfully tried to keep up with him. Once his momentum slowed, she gave him a long lick up his right side, lapping her juices off of him along the way.

From the corner of Callie’s eye, she could see Ada’s fingers furiously work her clitoris. Unlike before, this time she made sure not to look Ada’s way, alternating between licking him or knocking him around like a cat playing with a toy.

Duncan was mostly clean by the time Ada came. She nearly fell out of the chair from the intensity of her orgasm, the end of which coincided with Callie giving him one last lick up his backside. He shivered as the tongue worked its way up his spine.

Once Ada came down from her natural high, the three of them just stared at each other in silence for a moment, unsure what the appropriate thing to say after an experience like the one they just shared.

It was Duncan who finally broke the stalemate.

“Yay science?” he said with a shrug, swinging ever so slightly in front of Callie’s eyes.

Callie started laughing, with Ada soon catching the cackling contagion. Duncan immediately joined in, and the three laughed themselves silly.

********

Pornhub wasn’t doing it for Ada anymore.

She had been back at her dorm room for about an hour after leaving Callie and Duncan’s place. Before leaving, the lab tech had scanned Duncan using a near-field communication app on her phone courtesy of Dr. Catamaunt to record several of his vitals and other readings taken by the nanomachines within his body.

Callie was so excited when Ada told her how much she enjoyed watching their show. Callie hugged her tightly almost as soon as Ada was done scanning, the blonde’s sweat dampening Ada’s face and shirt as Callie’s tits rested on top of hers. The three of them spent the next half hour talking about the experience itself.

God those two were such a bright light shining in Ada’s otherwise dull life. Of course, that only made her feel worse.

To take her mind off the guilt she was feeling, she turned to porn. She was still feeling frisky even after the show Callie and Duncan had put on, but it would have been rude to just start going again right in front of them like that, with her being the only one. So once she returned to the dorm, she went straight for her computer.

But regular porn just wasn’t hitting Ada in the same way that it did before. None of her favorite videos compared to Callie staring into her soul as they both fingered themselves or Duncan begging her for help with that dick exposed. She still hadn’t even cleaned off her lenses yet!

It wasn’t that she had a thing for either of her friends. It’s just that they were both attractive people doing hot things in front of her. Those things just happened to be hotter than anything she could find on the internet. Maybe if she tried—

A FaceTime notification popped up on her computer screen. Ada scowled. It was him.

Hesitating for a few seconds, she accepted the call.

“Hey, Dr. Catamaunt!” she said with faux cheeriness. “I sent you Duncan’s numbers about an hour ago. Did you get them?”

The blond-haired scientist smirked arrogantly at her, the lenses of his own glasses reflecting the bright lighting of the lab he was sitting in.

“I did,” he answered. “I believe you know that isn’t my reason for calling. Did you activate the other function when you took the readings?”

Ada hated that thick German accent of his. She stretched her arms over her head, using it as an excuse to take a couple calming breaths before responding.

“Yes, Dr. Catamaunt,” she replied. “But sir? Why couldn’t we have just asked Duncan for permission? I’m sure he’d—”

Catamaunt was already shaking his head, so Ada decided to stop wasting her breath.

“Waiting to receive permission from a subject can be … problematic, given their ignorance on such things,” he explained. “Therefore, it is always better to avoid seeking consent whenever possible.”

Ada looked down and shook her head.

“That hasn’t been my experience,” she grumbled.

Catamaunt ignored her words, having already turned his attention to a computer monitor to his right, barely in the frame. The sound of typing filtered into Ada’s room through her computer’s speakers.

“There,” he said as the typing stopped. “I have activated it on our end. Don’t worry. As I explained to you before, he won’t feel any different and will be completely unaware.”

Ada wanted to push against this more, but she bit her tongue. She knew it would do no good. Still, the whole thing just felt … wrong.

“Yes, Dr. Catamaunt,” she said solemnly.

The scientist ended the call soon after, taking a minute to discuss the readings the nanomachines had taken from Duncan. While that wasn’t the primary function of the nanomachines, he really had been curious about them as well.

Once Catamaunt hung up, Ada was left staring at a paused porn scene on her monitor. She sighed once more as she closed the screen and made her way back to her bed. Plopping onto the bed and laying on her back, she tried to take her mind off the conversation she just had by replaying the evening’s events in her head.

Thinking back to the way Callie so easily controlled Duncan, picking him up at her whim and tying him up for her pleasure, she felt herself getting wet again. Sure it was all an act, but that didn’t make it any less arousing to her. As her right hand slithered its way beneath her jeans and into her panties, a single thought crossed her mind.

If another tiny man shows up on somebody’s doorstep, I’m calling dibs.

********

The red-headed woman had been sitting in her car for hours, parked across the street from a run-down apartment complex near the local college campus.

“This is the place,” she said to herself. “It has to be.”

She had taken quite a gamble to find this address, and she just knew this was where he was, where she needed him to be.

Using a cheap pair of binoculars, she had seen a black-haired girl with glasses leave the apartment she was watching about an hour ago. So she figured the tall blonde must be the one living there. The red-head quickly decided it would be best to avoid her if possible; she looked pretty toned and athletic, and the likely slightly older woman didn’t want to press her luck against the girl.

The woman would have to search the apartment after the blonde left at some point tomorrow. It was risky but her best bet. If he was living there as well, the clues should be easy enough to spot.

But that meant that the woman would be spending the night in her car, making sure she was up early enough to see when the girl in the apartment stepped out the next day. That was fine, though. Not ideal, but fine. It would all be worth it in the end. She just wanted this to be over, after all.

So the red-head used the hand crank to recline the driver’s seat back, looking up at the torn lining of the car’s interior before closing her eyes. She needed to get her sleep, as what could be the most important day of her life starts in the morning.

Because tomorrow, Natasha was getting her life back.

Chapter End Notes:

Hey, Natasha finally showed up! It only took me 11 chapters to actually have a character I mentioned back in chapter one actually be in the story. That's not too bad, right? RIGHT?!


Exposed

Word Count: 13270
Added: 03/17/2025
Updated: 04/03/2025
Chapter Notes:

Well, here we are: the last chapter. Maybe I should have given you guys a heads up? Although, in my defense, I did say at the start that this story would run for 10-12 chapters.

Still, I put a lot of thought into deciding to end things here. I'll kind of walk you through why I made that decision in the end notes. So I'll see you all after the chapter!

“So what do you have for me?” Alyssia asked.

She knew better than to ask him about how shitty he looked. The man was obviously tired, with heavy eyelids seemingly being dragged down by the dark bags under his eyes. The tone of his skin was a bit pale, and the skin around his jawline sagged slightly. This assignment was clearly kicking his ass.

Alyssia wanted to thank Arnold for his hard work or check to make sure he was okay, but she knew he would only shrug off such praise or concerns. Having spent the past three years working with the director of Research, she knew that he just wanted to focus on the job. So the best way she could show her gratitude was to get right to the point.

“Right this way, ma’am,” he said.

Arnold directed her attention to the large TV screen in the back of the main room on the Research floor, the same one where he had shown Alyssia the footage of the girl with the blue streaks just four days prior. She watched as video footage started playing on the screen.

The angle of the camera was high, showing four gas pumps within the width of the shot. A dark blue, newer model Honda Civic pulled up to pump three, located at the top right of the screen. The driver’s side door opened, and a woman with curly, shoulder-blade length darker shade of hair stepped out of it.

“Meet Natasha Chalmers,” Arnold said with a grin.

The footage paused as the screen zoomed in on the woman’s face. Alyssia could tell the woman was in her early-to-mid 20s and that she looked tired.

“How did you get this?” she asked. “And how do you know that’s her?”

Arnold’s smile only widened a bit at the questions. He typed a few commands with a keyboard sitting on a desk just below the large monitor, causing the screen to split between the close-up camera shot and a photo of a woman with curly red hair frowning into the camera, only her head and shoulders in the frame. Clearly the same woman.

“I … requested the security footage of any gas stations within a two-mile radius of our three surveillance areas. Thankfully, there were only three that fit the criteria,” he explained. “I was watching last night’s footage from this morning and recognized this little lady from the photo that the DMV has on file for Chalmers.”

Alyssia’s eyes went wide as she stared at Arnold in disbelief.

“You’ve been watching that much surveillance footage this whole time?” she questioned. “By yourself?!”

Arnold’s tired expression managed a dry smirk.

“The people I usually have do this kind of work are watching the security surveillance at Voss’s apartment and Sanders’s dorm,” he said. “You taking this so seriously but not being able to give me details scares the hell out of me, so I’m doing whatever it takes to get this done.”

A feeling of guilt hit Alyssia. She had been working the department pretty hard, stressing how important this assignment was. They were all used to working under pressure, digging up dirt on corporate rivals or even potential business partners to have a leg up in negotiations with tight deadlines.

But this … this was so much more important than that. Not only did they have to help Duncan, but they had to make sure whatever happened to him never happened to anyone else ever again. Yet she never meant to scare them to the point of overworking themselves to such a degree. Fuck, she had to say something. Show her appreciation. Anything!

“But you interrupted me before I got to the best part,” Arnold broke Alyssia from her thoughts. “Guess who the car is registered to?”

Alyssia gave her head a slight shake, rejoining the conversation.

“You can’t mean ...” she trailed off.

Arnold hit a few more keys on the keyboard, splitting the screen into thirds instead of halves, with a new photo occupying the right third of the screen, this one also of a woman with only her head and shoulders in the shot.

“It’s her!” Alyssia shouted, ignoring the attention she was drawing to herself from the Research employees.

The woman was smiling brightly in the photo, unlike Natasha. Her straight blond hair flowed past her shoulders, pairing nicely with those bright blue eyes staring back at Alyssia. But it was the streaks of blue dye running through her hair that made Alyssia so excited. They had her!

“Her name’s Lyra,” Arnold said. “Lyra Dreibach.”

Alyssia could only nod in response, her eyes never leaving the picture of the elusive woman, Lyra, staring back at her.

“New York City native. 23 years old. 5’7”. 114 pounds,” Arnold recited. “That’s all we know about her so far, but I just figured this out about an hour ago. I haven’t even had time to tell the staff.”

Alyssia finally pried her eyes off the screen, turning her attention back to the man whose devotion gave them their first real break in the investigation.

“Fuck it,” she said. “I know you hate this, but thank you so much! Really, you being so hands on with this means more than you’ll probably ever know. For me and for Ms. Shale. This is amazing work!”

Then a realization struck Alyssia.

“Wait,” she said. “If Natasha is in town, then Duncan, Callie, and Ada could be in danger!”

Arnold shook his head.

“Duncan? You mean the guy from upstairs who’s been missing for eight months? He’s got something to do with this?” he asked. “But don’t sweat the other two. We’ve still got eyes on both Voss and Sanders’s places. Everything’s been quiet.”

Alyssia barely acknowledged Arnold as she moved past him, heading toward an area in the center of the room. She stopped at one of the legion of cubicles there, stepping inside to find a middle-aged man in a business suit staring at a pair of monitors. She recognized the entrance to Callie’s apartment on the left screen and the entrance to Ada’s dorm on the right one.

“Any activity at either site, Smith?” Arnold’s deep voice rolled over Alyssia’s shoulder.

The man at the desk explained that Callie and Ada had each left their respective homes a little bit earlier, both of them carrying book bags with them. That checked out to Alyssia, who knew that both of them had morning classes at roughly the same time. She was about to breathe a sigh of relief and step away when something stood out to her on the left screen.

“Arnie,” she said nervously. “What kind of car would you say that is parked just in frame near Callie’s apartment?”

Arnold stepped deeper into the cubicle, leaning in to examine the screen more closely.

“That’s a navy blue Honda Civic, one of the newer models,” he said. “Why do you …”

Arnold stopped talking, standing up straight with wide eyes that met with Alyssia’s own shocked expression. The two of them bolted out of the cubicle at the same time, almost colliding with one another, before sprinting toward the elevator.

“Chalmers must be waiting for something,” Arnold said as they reached the elevator. “My guy would have said something if she had entered the apartment.”

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and the two stepped inside, pushing the button for the ground floor.

“You have your gun on you, right?” Alyssia asked.

Arnold nodded, the perplexed look on his face making clear that he had no idea what he was about to get into.

“Good, we might need it,” Alyssia said. “I know you have a ton of questions right now, but right now all you need to know is that we have to stop Natasha from doing … whatever it is she’s planning on doing. The sooner we get there, the better.”

A grunt in the affirmative was all she needed to hear to know that Arnold was going to be a professional about this, just like he always has been. Just as the elevator doors opened to let them off on the ground floor, another thought came to mind.

“And Arnie,” she said as she pulled out her phone, ready to warn the appropriate people about the situation. “If we end up having to go inside Callie’s apartment, watch your step.”

********

Monica pushed the microfiber mop across the rich, dark red flooring of her kitchen, her thoughts drifting back to the past few days.

She had sent home the maids she usually hired to take care of cleaning her home. Taking on these household tasks on her own for the first time in years gave her a chance to process everything she learned from Kristie … and about herself.

Kristie. Just thinking the name used to put Monica in a foul mood. Now, it only brought her confusion.

When Monica first saw Kristie at her new size, she thought it was fitting, a just punishment for what she assumed was a lifetime of vulgarity and meanness. Then, when she learned the truth about what Kristie did to Duncan, a rage she didn’t even know was within her boiled over, and she did … something she immediately came to regret.

Kristie’s confession that she had actually goaded Monica into performing that terrible act brought the executive little relief. Sure, Monica was grateful that Kristie wasn’t traumatized by being forced inside her. But that didn’t change the fact that Monica now knew that she was capable of doing something so terrible.

She moved out of the kitchen and began working on the hardwood floors of the living room. As she entered the room, she eyed her couch, the one on which she had spent so much time moping and feeling sorry for herself, in stark contrast to her typical hard nature.

It was Kristie who had pulled her out of that rut. The same Kristie she spent so much time despising. The same Kristie who shared her heartbreaking story of abuse and cried over her own unforgivable sin, forever changing the way Monica thought of her. The same Kristie who had looked so cute climbing Monica’s body just the previous day, who had gripped the side of her breast, made her wet …

Stop it! Monica chided herself. This should be the last thing on either of our minds right now. Besides, she clearly still feels some sort of connection with Duncan, so she has to be straight, right?

She picked up the pace, shutting down her thoughts and focusing on mindless cleaning for the next several hours. Once she was finished, she decided on a shower, walking down the long hallway to her room with her eyes on the ground. Along the way, she passed the guest bedroom she had given Kristie, her curiosity getting the better of her as she peeked through the cracked door.

Light shining through one of the second story windows of Kristie’s tiny house signaled that the tiny Korean was inside her new home. Monica debated stepping into the room. She had so much to say to Kristie but no words with which to say them. She may have been feeling better than she had for the past few days, but now she was a mess for an entirely different reason.

Monica shrugged off those feelings and resumed her trek to the en suite attached to her room. She wouldn’t allow Kristie to dominate her thoughts like this, like she was 14 again suffering through her first crush. She had long since evolved past that stage, sacrificing such feelings in the name of success, and she would do so again this time.

She took off her sweatpants and t-shirt in two quick moves, tossing them randomly on the floor for once, before sauntering into the bathroom. A quick voice command activated her shower at her preset temperature preference, the shower head hanging directly above the walk-in shower raining down water where she would soon be standing.

A minute later, Monica was behind the translucent glass, washing away all those confused feelings as beads of warm water ran down her creamy caramel skin. It was so relaxing, so soothing, just like always. No matter how stressed out she would get, this was her one sanctuary from it all.

She pushed all thoughts of Kristie, of the mystery surrounding Duncan, or even of her return to work the next day out of her head. As she stepped out of the shower, a calm washed over her. She would dodge Kristie for the rest of the evening, opting to enjoy a good read in bed while she kept herself in her room.

Or, at least, that was the plan until she spotted a nude Kristie standing on her vanity.

Thankfully, Monica had grabbed her towel before stepping out of the shower, so her slender body was tightly wrapped from breast to mid thigh by a white towel. She had just stepped off her maroon bath rug when she laid eyes on the puny naked girl, the loud smack of her dripping-wet right foot slamming onto the tiled floor echoing throughout the room as she froze in place.

Kristie’s own towel was at her feet. She stood there with her arms crossed underneath her breasts as she looked Kristie in the eye.

She’s not even trying to cover up! Monica thought. I-I need to look away or … or something!

But she didn’t look away. She couldn’t look away. She studied every bit of Kristie’s exposed body. Monica hoped that Kristie being so small would make it harder for the tiny woman to notice her giant wandering eyes.

“The plumbing’s fucked up at my place,” Kristie said, leaning a little extra weight on her right foot. “I figured I could use your sink for a bath.”

Monica didn’t respond right away. She was too focused on Kristie’s bell-shaped tits. Each boob stood defiantly on its own, refusing to rest on the tiny girl’s crossed forearms directly beneath them.

It wasn’t until Kristie started to tap her right foot impatiently against the countertop that Monica realized that it was her turn to speak.

“Where are your clothes?” Monica asked, Kristie’s request not immediately registering with her.

Kristie stopped tapping her foot. She uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips.

“Do you think I was going to haul extra clothes here and back to the house or put the same shit back on when I was done?” she asked. “Fuck no I wasn’t. It’s easier to show up bath-ready. Now are you going to let me use your shitty sink or not?”

Monica looked over Kristie’s head and into the pristine marble sink behind her, then back at Kristie again.

“You’re a guest here, Kristie. There’s no chance I’m going to force you to bathe in a sink,” Monica said. “The pipes in your house are easy enough for someone my size to manage, so I should be able to fix the issue for you rather quickly.”

She took two noisy steps toward the bathroom door, the soles of her feet peeling off the ceramic tiles with each step. Before she could leave the room, however, she heard Kristie calling to her.

“Wait,” Kristie said. “Okay, so I may or may not have flushed all the silverware in the house down the toilet at the same time.”

Monica blinked a few times as her brain attempted to process the information Kristie had just fed it.

“Why would you do that?”

Kristie shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, I tried the curling iron first, but it was too long,” she said. “I couldn’t get it to go down.”

She has a tiny curling iron?! Monica asked herself, trying to block out the thought of how adorable it would be to see Kristie use it. I need to give all of my R&D people a raise for all the tiny tech they put into that house.

“That’s not what I was asking, and you know it,” she said.

Kristie lowered her head.

“I didn’t see you all day,” she mumbled. “I-I needed an excuse to …”

Kristie trailed off as Monica took a step toward the vanity to better hear her tiny guest. The humongous hostess didn’t notice that this put Kristie level with her crotch, leaving only the thin fibers of the towel to separate the little Asian from her sex.

“Oh,” Monica said, feeling some guilt over avoiding her throughout the day. “But I’ve left you alone for most of your time here. I always felt as though you preferred it that way. So why would you do something so … drastic just for my attention?”

Looking up, Kristie took a nervous step backward, putting some space between herself and Monica’s hourglass hips.

“I know, but then we had that talk yesterday and … and …” Kristie responded. “You know what? Fuck this. This is so stupid.”

Her voice sounded so meek to Monica, lacking the usual fire with which Kristie always spoke. The little woman seemed nervous.

Do I make her nervous? Monica asked herself. Why does that make my stomach feel so light and tingly?

She pulled herself from her thoughts in time to see Kristie walking hastily toward the ladder Monica had installed onto the side of the vanity, one of many she had set up throughout the household. Monica slammed her right hand down on its side in front of Kristie, immediately regretting letting her emotions and nerves speed up her effort to keep the tiny from leaving.

Kristie stumbled backward but kept her feet. She didn’t scream, but she stared in wonderment at Monica’s gigantic palm, which was taller than her even on its side.

“It’s not stupid,” Monica said. “Talk to me, Kristie. Please.”

With a sigh, Kristie finally pried her eyes away from Monica’s hand, looking all the way up her upper body to her face.

“I don’t know,” Kristie said. “I feel like you’ve been ducking me all Goddamn day. I thought you were going to come into my room before you got in the shower, but you just walked away like I don’t exist. I just … I just wanted to see you, okay? There I fucking said it!”

Monica couldn’t stop the smile from overriding her previously stoic expression. Those words made all those conflicting thoughts melt away.

Then, another thought occurred to her.

“Wait,” Monica said. “How were you going to spend time with me if you were taking a bath in my sink? I would assume you would prefer privacy when you bathe.”

Kristie’s cheeks turned bright red, and it was all Monica could do to keep from cooing at the sight.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Kristie admitted.

An idea popped into Monica’s head. Now it was her turn to blush.

“I suppose I could keep you company,” she blurted out.

Kristie didn’t speak but nodded in approval.

So Monica ran Kristie’s bath in the sink, testing the water with a finger to ensure it reached the perfect temperature before closing the drain. Light steam rose from the water and slightly fogged up the mirror hanging over the sink. She offered Kristie her right hand, enjoying the feeling of Kristie’s tiny feet sinking into the flesh of her palm.

Monica lowered the tiny girl just above the water as she shut it off with her free hand, with Kristie climbing off her ride and into her bath. Only Kristie’s head remained above water as she sat down in the center of the sink with a satisfied sigh.

Monica provided her with soap, shampoo, and a puny piece of a loofah in an upturned cap floating on the water, too focused on getting her guest set up to bother taking the time to dress herself. The two women talked as Kristie cleaned herself, with Monica resting her forearms in front of the sink as she leaned forward, her head looming over the sink as she looked on from above.

Monica became distracted when Kristie’s right leg broke through the water with agonizing slowness, rising over barely perceptible ripples as displaced waves cascaded down her smooth lower leg. As Kristie’s foot pointed skyward, Monica noticed that her black nail polish was quite chipped and faded.

Black is a nice color for her, but I think coral would be cute on her as well, Monica mused, glancing down at her burgundy-painted fingernails. Would she find it odd if I, of all people, were to make that suggestion? Perhaps she might enjoy painting them together later.

Lifting her eyes back toward Kristie, Monica was captivated by the white, bubbly suds coating her guest’s minuscule leg. Kristie had just finished scrubbing it, and Monica felt some disappointment when the leg submerged once more.

Then the left leg rose above the water.

This time, Monica refused to even blink as she watched Kristie work the loofah up her thigh and over her calf in small circular motions, soaping up every inch of the backside of her leg. Kristie did the same down the front of her leg, seemingly ignoring her audience of one as she took her time.

“Glad you’re enjoying the show,” Kristie said with some snark in her tone, although Monica swore she could see a shy smile cross her lips for a split second before disappearing.

Once Kristie finished with her left leg, she decided that the loofah needed to be soaped up again. However, after fishing it out of the cap, the shard of soap slipped out of her fingers and sunk to the bottom of the sink. Before she could reach down to grab it, Monica’s right hand was already on the move.

“Please, allow me,” Monica said as her hand plunged into the water.

As the tips of her index finger and thumb clamped over the soap, her pinkie gently brushed against Kristie’s side. Monica found herself relishing the contact, Kristie’s skin feeling soft and inviting even under the water. Monica was quick to pull her hand out of the water, resisting the temptation to start rubbing Kristie in earnest.

Presenting the soap to the puny bather, Monica was surprised when Kristie made no effort to take it from her fingers. It wasn’t until Monica followed the tiny’s eyes that she realized that Kristie was looking at her, or rather her body. She had leaned forward to grab the soap, and now her cleavage was on full display to her little guest as the towel around her body pressed her breasts tightly together.

Monica’s first thought was to use her free hand to cover the top of her tits or maybe move away from the sink. She didn’t move, however, save for the corners of her mouth curling upward ever so slightly as she gave the situation more thought. She cleared her throat haughtily, causing Kristie to stir. The tiny woman swiftly swiped the soap from Monica, her eyes dropping down to face the water.

Her hand withdrawn from the sink, Monica elected to leave her elbows on the countertop, propping her cheeks up with her hands and leaving her breasts in full view. Water dripped down her right cheek, as she decided against changing positions to reach out for the hand towel to dry her hand.

Throughout the rest of Kristie’s bath, the tiny stole an occasional glance at Monica’s exposed cleavage, much to the giant onlooker’s delight. Watching Kristie clean the rest of her body was beginning to do things to Monica. She was getting worked up and started feeling a bit moist down below, something she was fighting against, as she didn’t want Kristie to think of her as a pervert.

Once Kristie had finished her bath and Monica had calmed herself, she lifted Kristie out of the sink, making sure to leave her palm flat rather than gripping Kristie’s nude body. She allowed Kristie to step off her palm next to the sink, where the tiny dried off her body and wrapped the towel around her hair.

“Have you tried using essential oils after a bath?” Monica asked. “They do wonders for your body and mood.”

Kristie shook her head.

“What’s wrong with my fucking mood?” she said, a cheeky smile on her face.

Monica chuckled at the question.

“I’m fairly certain you don’t want to hear the answer to that,” she replied.

Kristie laughed right back at Monica.

“Bitch,” she said in a teasing tone. “You know what? Fuck it. I’ll give it a shot.”

Monica stood up straight and reached for a drawer to her right. She pulled out a five-inch-tall bottle of lavender essential oil and set it down beside Kristie. A slight whimper escaped Monica’s lips at how adorable her little friend looked standing in the bottle’s shadow.

Monica’s eyes never left Kristie’s body as she unscrewed the bottle’s cap, drinking in every naked, succulent curve.

“Typically, I apply this oil all over my body as soon as I leave the shower,” Monica explained. “It takes a fair amount of time, but, given your size, I could …”

She stopped. The words just got stuck in her throat. No matter how casual she tried to make herself sound, the thought that Kristie might have a negative response to the prospect of Monica’s fingers gliding across her body was enough to give her pause.

“You want to help me out?” Kristie asked with a smirk. “If you’re trying to pamper me, I’m not going to say no.”

A small shiver ran down Monica’s spine, and she hoped that Kristie didn’t notice the tremor shooting through her body. Rather than try to reply verbally, Monica only nodded as she picked the open bottle up and dumped some of the oil onto the fingers of her left hand.

She rubbed her fingers together with both hands, just enough to spread the oil between them, the resulting friction warming the oil between her fingertips, before bringing her hands down to Kristie.

A jolt of pleasure shot through Monica every time one of her fingertips softly rolled over a itsy bitsy muscle or vertebrae as they worked their way up and down Kristie’s back, her thumbs rubbing her stomach at a sensual pace on the opposite side. Kristie, with her eyes closed, let out a loud moan, encouraging the giantess’s efforts.

That encouragement was enough for Monica to shift her thumbs under Kristie’s breasts, feeling their weight press down on her nails. The tips of Monica’s forefingers followed as the small of Kristie’s back arched toward her, sandwiching her thumbs even more beneath those perfectly plump tits.

She’s enjoying this! Monica realized with a giddy smile. Perhaps she really does feel the same way about me as I do her.

Monica’s thumbs slithered out from underneath Kristie’s boobs, each pad feeling up the side of a breast. The pliability of Kristie’s titflesh was addicting for Monica, the way it sank inward at her slightest touch, even with minimal pressure.

She wanted to play with them more, especially now that they were lathered in lavender oil, but instead, she rounded her thumbs to the top of her chest. They swirled across her cleavage as they rubbed in the oil. Kristie moaned again as Monica slipped her right thumb through the cleavage, loving how the parted boobs bounced as they made way for the giant digit.

Then Monica, feeling the moment, moved her thumbs to accommodate Kristie’s hardening nipples, the pointy nubs catching on each line of her thumbprints as they moved over them. However, as soon as she made contact, Kristie’s eyes shot open, a confused look upon her face.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Kristie said, her confusion quickly shifting to anger. “What, you a fucking dyke or something?!”

Monica froze, all feeling leaving her extremities once that harsh word left Kristie’s lips. Her mind drifted back to her senior year of high school, when she had finally built up the courage to tell her parents that she liked girls instead of boys.

She still remembered the blank look on her mother’s face, clearly unsure of how to take the news. But it was that cold stare her father gave her that still haunted her. For minutes on end, she held his gaze, hoping to see a shred of warmth, of understanding, in those judgmental eyes just this once.

Monica needed him to understand, to accept who she was. But her father shattered her soul with a single word before simply turning around and walking out of the room, her mother silently following.

“No.”

Monica’s eyes watered at the memory, feeling that same painful rejection once more. This had been a mistake. How could she have been so stupid? Fucking stupid! Of course Kristie didn’t feel the same way that she did. How could anyone feel that way about her? Why did she open herself up like this?

Never again, she told herself. Father was right. Those feelings aren’t for me.

“Oh God,” Kristie’s words broke through Monica’s thoughts. “You really are—”

Monica started to swiftly withdraw her hand from Kristie’s body. However, Kristie acted just as quickly, grabbing the tip of Monica’s middle finger. Kristie’s oiled-up torso was dragged several of her feet without a distraught Monica even noticing.

“Wait!” Kristie desperately screamed.

Monica obeyed, stopping her hand just before reaching the counter’s edge. Realizing the danger her lack of attention had put Kristie in, she began to apologize profusely as she dropped her hand to her side.

“Shut up,” Kristie said as she pushed herself back to her feet. “I’ve got something to say.”

Again, Monica followed the tiny Asian’s direction, compelled to do so even despite her broken heart. Monica just couldn’t find it in herself to deny her at this point. She just looked down at Kristie, preparing herself for whatever hurtful words would come out of that little mouth next.

“I’m sorry.”

The first tear tickled as it rolled down Monica’s left cheek. She didn’t know how to respond or how to feel in that moment, but she knew that she was losing the battle to keep her feelings in check, something that was becoming a common occurrence when she was in Kristie’s presence.

“I-I don’t deal with emotions very well. Or at all, really,” Kristie continued. “When I feel something that scares me, I lash out. It’s easier that way.”

Kristie lowered her head, staring at the countertop directly in front of her feet.

“I say whatever shit I think will piss people off,” she admitted. “When … when you touched me there, that’s where my brain went. I figured, ‘Hey, what could piss a straight person off more than calling them gay?’”

Without even thinking about it, Monica crouched down, her eyes level with the counter’s surface. She could just barely make out Kristie’s face from that low angle.

“But I never would have called you … that if I knew you were really a lesbian,” Kristie said, her eyes remained fixed on the ground. “That’s actually really awesome, and you shouldn’t let a stupid cunt like me make you feel bad about who you are.”

Kristie finally looked up, chuckling as she looked straight into Monica’s wide, watery eyes.

“Thinking about it now, I was a fucking idiot to not pick up on it,” Kristie said. “The way you’ve been looking at me these last few days, you dodging me today, and how eager you were to use that oil as an excuse to cop a feel; I really shouldn’t be surprised you’re gay. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own shit to really notice before now, though.”

Monica’s left hand wiped the tears from her eyes as she finally regained her composure. Her face rose just enough for her to set her chin on the counter, Kristie standing inches from her moist lips.

“What exactly was this ‘shit’ in which you were wrapped?” Monica whispered the question. “Does it have something to do with whatever you said scared you before?”

Kristie hesitated to answer, just staring at Monica blankly.

“If my, er, actions a minute ago were traumatic for you or if all of those things you just mentioned about my behavior of late have made you feel uncomfortable in my presence, please don’t be afraid to let me know,” Monica said, fighting to keep the timidness out of her voice.

Kristie shook her head so emphatically that the towel wrapped around her hair came undone and dropped to the ground. Wet strands of black hair clung to her neck and shoulders where they fell.

“Don’t put fucking words in my mouth!” she hissed. “That’s not what it is at all!”

Kristie looked to the side and sighed, appearing to calm down. Monica didn’t say anything or react in the slightest, content to allow Kristie to work through whatever was at issue with as much anger and vitriol as she needed. Monica would simply stay there and serve as a scapegoat until Kristie was finally able to express herself.

“Ever since you touched me that day when I told you about my past, I-I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Kristie admitted, her hands fidgeting at her sides. “I felt the same thing then that I did when you were feeling me up just now, only this time … more intense.”

Taking a couple steps forward, Kristie put her right hand on Monica’s upper lip, which was sitting at eye level for her. Monica didn’t dare move.

“I really liked the way you were touching me, when you were trying to make me feel better before and for damn sure when you were playing with my tits,” Kristie continued. “I-I’ve … I’ve never felt this way before. About anybody. And that … that scares me.”

Monica puckered her lips, giving Kristie’s palm a gentle kiss before she straightened her back, towering over Kristie as she rose to her full height on her knees.

“You never felt like this before?” Monica asked. “But what about Duncan?”

Kristie answered with a shake of her head, her wet locks being flung back and forth with each movement.

“Duncan was the first person I ever met who kind of got me, and he’s important to me, but no, I never felt this way about him,” she replied. “I only asked him to go out with me because I didn’t want him to leave. Everybody always leaves, and sex is the only way to get them to stay.”

Several emotions overtook Monica at Kristie’s casually spoken yet horrifying words: anger at all the people who made Kristie feel this way, heartbreak at what this poor girl must have put herself through just to feel a sense of acceptance, and, ashamed as Monica was to admit it, joy at the realization that Kristie had feelings for her as well.

But the giantess buried all those feelings for now. Kristie needed reassurance now, and Monica intended to give it to her. She could try to help Kristie through these deeper issues over time.

Monica reached for Kristie, the tip of her right index finger touching down on the tiny girl’s cheek, stroking it lovingly as she spoke.

“He would have stayed either way,” Monica said. “And I’m going to stay, always. That’s what people who really care about you do.”

She couldn’t help but smile brightly as Kristie stared up at her, an expression of pure elation written upon her little face. It was the cutest, most heartwarming thing Monica had ever seen. The two of them just basked in each other’s presence for several minutes before Monica reluctantly stood up, rising even higher above Kristie.

“I suppose I should find some clothes,” Monica said, slowly pulling her finger away and offering Kristie her palm. “I’d be delighted to carry you back to your house to do the sa—”

“Stop!”

Kristie’s lone word stopped Monica dead in her tracks. Monica nervously looked down at her, unsure of what to expect at this point.

“Take your towel off,” Kristie ordered.

If Monica had expected something, it certainly wouldn’t have been that.

“What?” she asked.

A sly smirk crossed Kristie’s lips.

“Towel off, now,” she repeated. “I’ve been standing here naked this whole Goddamned time, giving you a fucking show. Now I want one, too.”

Monica took a step backward and reached behind her back and undid the knot holding her towel in place, making no effort to stop it as it dropped to the floor. She loved feeling Kristie’s eyes travel up and down her body.

“Now grab your oil and me and take us to the bed,” Kristie commanded. “It’s your turn to get oiled up.”

********

How the fuck did I luck into this? Kristie asked herself.

She was sitting in the palm of Monica’s hand, held at chest level, much to Kristie’s amusement. The puny passenger couldn’t look away from those round breasts, each the size of a studio apartment to her, as they bounced gently with each step Monica made toward the bed.

As Monica sat down on the bed, Kristie noticed that the executive’s hand remained perfectly level, not shaking her up or making her uncomfortable in the slightest. It looked like Monica wasn’t even trying when she handled Kristie, like it just came naturally.

How is she effortlessly good at everything? Kristie mused, a mixture of jealousy and pride dwelling behind her thoughts. Am I really good enough for somebody like that?

Kristie found herself being raised to Monica’s face, which was wearing a pensive expression.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, I want you to know that you don’t have to go through with it,” Monica said. “I’m not here because I expect something in return; I’m here because I want to be.”

Kristie gave Monica’s palm a few pats with her right hand.

“Thanks. It means a lot to hear that,” Kristie said sweetly before her voice turned stern. “Now knock that shit off!”

Kristie stood up and continued before a stunned Monica could formulate a response.

“I’m loving this sweet, softer side of you,” Kristie admitted with a blush. “But you’re going back to work tomorrow, so enough of this sentimental bullshit! We need to get you back to being the badass bitch executive we all know and are fucking terrified of!”

Monica’s teeth were on full display in front of Kristie as she grinned in response.

“And I suppose you have a plan in the works to achieve this?” Monica asked.

Kristie arched her back and stretched her arms over her head as she responded.

“Yeah, it’s simple,” she explained. “I’ll hang out on your body and rub in the oil wherever you tell me to. All you have to do is boss me around.”

Monica tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as she studied Kristie carefully.

“Really?” Monica asked. “And you’ll just do as I say. No, ‘Go fuck yourself, Monica’ or ‘I’d rather eat my own asshole out’? Because that second one is why I don’t ask you to do your own dishes anymore.”

Spreading her legs shoulder-width apart, Kristie bent down to touch the toes of her right foot.

“Yeah, really,” she said with a bit of annoyance. “How many times do I have to fucking say it?! Make me do shit!”

Monica’s lips curled into a smug smirk, draining the irritation from Kristie’s face as she laughed nervously.

The fuck did I just do to myself? she wondered.

Holding Kristie further away from her body, Monica repositioned herself so that she was lying on the bed on her stomach. Kristie couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment as Monica reached around and started to set her down on her upper black, a plain of smooth caramel that seemed to stretch forever into the distance.

“Oh, I thought maybe we’d start with your front,” Kristie said meekly as she slid off of Monica’s tilted fingers.

An arrogant chuckle from Monica shook the ground under Kristie’s feet, knocking the tiny woman onto her naked butt, which sank slightly into Monica’s accommodating skin, still hot from her shower earlier.

“I’m sure you did,” Monica responded.

Kristie watched as Monica’s hand lifted away, reaching toward the end table next to her bed. It returned a moment later with the open bottle of lavender oil, dumping a small pool’s worth into the small of Monica’s back.

“You will gather oil as needed from there,” Monica said sternly, the vibrations of her voice causing small tremors under Kristie’s feet. “You will only apply it where you are told to apply it, however. You are not to do so to other parts of my body while making your way to the appropriate location. Am I understood?”

Kristie felt her body quiver in an odd blend of excitement and fear at the authority in Monica’s tone.

“Wh-what happens if I do it anyway?” Kristie asked with the tiniest tremble. “Rub the oil in places I’m not supposed to, I mean.”

The ground beneath Kristie began to rise as Monica propped herself up on her elbows and arched her back. The tiny Asian tumbled down the length of Monica’s spine, from between her shoulder blades into the massive puddle of oil, rolling over the giantess’s vertebrae all the way down the length of her back.

Kristie landed face first into the oil, which was just shy of being deep enough to submerge her whole body while lying down. She pushed herself up and out of the oil, wiping some of it from her eyes.

“It seems you’ve decided to begin on a sour note,” Monica said. “I’d advise against further inquiries.”

Looking down at her naked body, Kristie saw that she was completely lathered in oil.

Heh. So much for that bath, she thought. But fuck me in the backdoor if this isn’t worth it.

“Alright then, big girl!” Kristie shouted toward Monica’s head in the distance. “Where do you want this shit first?”

This time it was a girlish giggle that rocked the world around Kristie, although she was able to stay on her feet. As the laughter subsided and the fleshy landscape settled, Monica cleared her throat with a small cough, her tone turning serious once again.

“Big girl?” Monica questioned. “The label is accurate enough, I suppose. But no, you will refer to me as … mistress.”

Kristie picked up on a slight hesitation in Monica’s voice as she demanded to be called mistress. While the word itself was delivered in a commanding tone, Kristie realized that Monica might just be a little embarrassed at wanting to be addressed this way. The tiny girl’s first instinct was to attack this weakness.

She held back, however, Kristie’s desire to give Monica what she wanted far stronger than her natural inclination to always have the upper hand.

“Yes, mistress,” Kristie said.

Monica gave a closed-lipped moan, her body purring as the sound rose from her throat. Kristie was getting used to the occasional lack of stability under her feet and rather enjoyed the sensation beneath her soles.

“You may come apply oil on the back of my neck,” Monica said in a dismissive tone.

Kristie looked up Monica’s still-inclined back as her mistress used her left hand to flip her hair over her right shoulder, revealing her long, elegant neck. With Monica’s back still arched and her arms still propping up the top half of her upper body, the climb was looking pretty steep to Kristie.

“You want to lie flat and make it a little easier for me, mistress?” Kristie asked.

She was quick to notice Monica’s hand coming for her, but that did little to improve her situation. The back of the giant hand was in front of her almost instantly, its nails just touching Monica’s skin. With a simple flick of her wrist, Monica’s fingers gently yet firmly flicked Kristie back into the oil puddle.

“I believe you were warned about asking questions,” Monica replied.

A floral taste with hints of sweetness and spice stayed in Kristie’s mouth even as she spat out a mouthful of lavender oil as she sat up, her bent knees and torso rising above the puddle. She stared up at the back of Monica’s neck uphill, a look of determination etched into her face.

That’s how we’re fucking playing, huh? Kristie thought. Bring it, you hot bitch!

Without saying a word, she pushed herself to her feet, oil dripping from all over her curvy body. She stepped out of the pool and started marching up the steep incline of Monica’s back. Kristie’s oil-saturated soles were slippery against the giantess’s skin, making the trek up Monica’s silky smooth back all the more difficult.

The ground beneath her quaked as Monica’s body gave an involuntary shudder, with Kristie just narrowly preventing herself from tumbling down to the bottom for a second time.

“As divine as those diminutive little feet of yours feel, I was expecting to have the back of my neck oiled by now,” Monica said. “If you don’t want to start from the bottom again, I suggest you push ahead faster.”

Monica’s words lit a fire within Kristie. It wasn’t just what was said, but the way it was said. Monica’s voice was authoritative, but laced just beneath that commanding tone was something more. Joy. Pleasure. Yearning. Desperation. Kristie’s footsteps alone were starting to drive Monica wild.

Kristie doubled her efforts, her shins burning as she practically jogged up Monica’s back, somehow maintaining her balance the whole time. Her excitement powered her to the back of Monica’s neck in almost no time at all. Despite being out of breath, she didn’t waste any time, reaching out with her right hand and slowly dragging her fingers down the middle of her Monica’s smooth neck.

“Oh fuck!” Monica moaned.

That reaction only encouraged Kristie. She held her arms out as wide as possible and attempted to give the back of Monica’s neck a hug, her arms falling well short of wrapping around it. Kristie aggressively swayed her hips, grinding her sex into the base of Monica’s neck while rubbing her tits against the supple flesh just above.

“Ooh,” Monica said, her authoritative coating melting away with each of Kristie’s movements. “M-more of that.”

Kristie obliged. Her body slid effortlessly across the wide span of that enticing light brown wall of flesh, spreading the oil all over the front of her body over as much skin as she could. Her body seductively maneuvered its way back and forth over the back of Monica’s neck, with every pleasurable whimper from Monica resonating through her tiny body and warming her womanhood.

“Right cheek,” Monica commanded once the back of her neck was covered.

Almost hypnotically, Kristie moved to obey. She pulled herself away from Monica’s neck and stepped onto the giantess’s right shoulder. Kristie wasted no time reaching out and touching Monica’s right cheek with both hands. However, the muscles underneath that cheek carried those puny hands upward as Monica grinned devilishly.

“Wrong cheek,” Monica’s voice echoed loudly in Kristie’s ears.

A confused look crossed Kristie’s face. This was absolutely Monica’s right cheek. What was this sexy, bossy giant talking about?

“What?” Kristie asked.

Before Kristie even had a chance to realize her mistake, Monica’s left index finger was upon her. The dominant digit, longer than Kristie was tall, prodded the tiny girl’s chest, its tip almost covering both breasts entirely. It wasn’t there to feel Kristie up this time, though.

With a gentle push from the giant fingertip, Kristie found herself going over Monica’s shoulder as she lost her footing. She landed on her oil-soaked back, flying down the slope of Monica’s monolithic back with no resistance thanks to the slick liquid.

Kristie likened it to riding down a water slide, only she was facing the wrong way, staring at the back of Monica’s head as she screamed the whole way down.

With a splash, Kristie was back at the pool. As her head broke the surface of the oil puddle, she was greeted with an exaggerated sigh.

“A bit dense, aren’t we?” Monica asked as she stared down at Kristie from over her right shoulder. “Questions. Are. Not. Allowed. Do you understand now, or shall I just go on and give you your next reprimand in advance?”

Perhaps the most surprising thing to Kristie was how angry she didn’t feel. Instead of scowling up at her “tormentor,” she was all smiles. What was this feeling bubbling up inside her?

I don’t like this … do I? She asked herself, already knowing the truth. I’m doing this for Monica, right?

Kristie didn’t have time to dwell on this, as Monica’s right hand was swiftly flying in her direction. Kristie’s breaths were short with anticipation at whatever “reprimand” was coming her way.

It never came, however.

The hand moved over Kristie’s head, its palm coming down with a deafening slap atop Monica’s right butt cheek and rocking Kristie’s world once again.

“This was the cheek to which I was referring,” Monica said. “Unfortunately, it seems that you require more thorough direction if I’m to expect you to get anything done.”

Kristie couldn’t take her eyes off of that hand and the slightly wobbling flesh beneath it. She wasn’t sure how much of it was the sight before her and how much of it was Monica talking down to her, but Kristie had never been more turned on in her life.

Standing up, Kristie waded through the shin-deep puddle toward Monica’s ass. Resting her forearms on the base of Monica’s right cheek, Kristie began to climb the lush mound, step by step. Monica’s hand soared over her head as Monica finally pulled it away, its motion creating a slight breeze that chilled Kristie’s oiled up body.

Reaching the top, she pulled herself back to her feet. She could see a slight red imprint where Monica had slapped that juicy ass cheek. Kristie turned around and fell on her back right in the center of the hand print, which she fit into with room to spare on all sides.

Kristie’s arms and legs moved up and down as she made snow angels. She giggled giddily as she felt the warm, malleable buttflesh give slightly to the whims of her appendages. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun, or if she ever had.

Once she felt that area had been oiled up well enough, she rolled over and began to crawl across the butt cheek, rubbing in the lavender-scented liquid into the flesh with her hands and her body as she worked her way across it. Her little hands worked the skin in front of her bit by bit as she moved along, squeezing it by the handful.

After several minutes, Kristie was satisfied with the job she had done. She stood up and walked to the cracked chasm separating the two cheeks. Without hesitating, she jumped the gap, landing on Monica’s left cheek.

“What are you doing?” Monica said with legitimate surprise. “I didn’t say—”

Kristie bent down and smacked Monica’s ass with as much force as she could muster.

“No fucking questions, mistress, remember?” Kristie said in a teasing voice.

Monica’s hand returned, hovering above Kristie for only a second before it came down on the tiny, pressing her into the flesh.

“I remember that I’m the one that decides the rules,” Monica answered, this time in a seductive tone. “That attempt at insubordination was quite … cute. Perhaps your punishment might be considered a bit of a reward as well.”

Monica’s hand began to rub the still wet Kristie all over her butt cheek. It was almost too much for the tiny Korean: the pressure from Monica’s pressing palm against back; the feel of the giantess’s butt against the tits, face, legs, and pussy; and the sheer thrill of Monica establishing dominance over her rebellious nature.

Kristie felt herself being rubbed over every square inch of Monica’s left butt cheek, the friction of her involuntary movements finally drying the oil from her body. Just as Monica’s hand finally lifted away, the sound of the whistling song from the movie Kill Bill came from the bed’s closest end table.

With a disgusted scoff, Monica grabbed the phone with her unending reach and answered the call, clearly already aware of who was on the other end.

“I’m quite busy at the moment, Alyssia,” Monica said in a harsh tone. “So unless this is an emergenc—”

Kristie felt the butt muscles beneath her tense as Monica stopped speaking in mid-sentence.

“How did this happen?!” Monica roared into the phone. “I thought you said they were under surveillance!”

Kristie stood up and slid down Monica’s butt cheek all the way down to the bed. Whatever fun they were having was over now, and she was beginning to get worried about what was happening.

“You’re right,” Monica said, regaining her composure. “I’ll just meet the two of you there.”

She stood up to her full height, the remainder of that oil puddle splashing onto the floor. Kristie locked eyes with the towering woman as Monica looked back down at her.

“I’ll take you back to your house. You need to get dressed,” Monica said. “We’re going to Duncan and Callie’s apartment.”

********

Alyssia hung up her phone and slipped it back into her pocket.

That actually wasn’t as bad as I expected, she thought. We’re going to need Monica out of whatever slump she’s in if we’re going to get through this.

Standing at the start of the short hallway, Alyssia surveyed the living room and kitchen of Callie and Duncan’s apartment once again. The couch and dining table were still overturned, and the table’s chairs were thrown throughout the open-concept rooms. The kitchen trashcan was still knocked over, and several drawers were still opened, their contents scattered about the kitchen floor.

She didn’t need to see the rest of the apartment to know it was no different. So she wasn’t surprised to hear Arnold’s startled reaction when he entered the single bedroom. After searching the room, he emerged into the hallway holding what Alyssia recognized to be Duncan’s shoebox home.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, his eyes still on the ground as he approached her. “And seriously, I thought when you told me to watch my step before, you were joking. I think I deserve some answers here.”

Aylssia sighed.

“You’re right, Arnie,” she said. “We’ll need all hands on deck now. Come on, follow me into the kitchen. But keep your eyes on the ground, just in case.”

The two of them made their way into the kitchen, where they flipped the table back over and grabbed two chairs to sit in. As the two sat down, Alyssia started to explain to Arnold what was going on. As she did, her eyes drifted to the nearest window, where she could see the car they had seen Natasha driving before still parked in the same place, only adding to the mystery surrounding them.

What the fuck happened here? she asked herself.

********

Three hours earlier

Duncan was just wrapping up the additional work he was doing to cover for Monica’s absence over the past few days. It was unlike her to miss just one day of work, even when she was sick, so he was starting to really worry about her. He didn’t mind putting in the extra work, though. It was actually nice to have people to whom he was close enough to cover for.

Man, despite everything that happened to me, I’ve really lucked out, he told himself. This really is the happiest I’ve ever been.

As soon as he heard the front door open, however, he knew that something was wrong.

Even from the bedroom, Duncan could tell the sound of a lock being picked when he heard it. He immediately shut down the tablets and phone that made up his office and sprinted toward the ladder at the side of the dresser. He was already starting to climb down by the time he heard the first footstep enter the apartment.

He knew right away that it wasn’t Callie or any of their friends entering the apartment. After spending a couple months around them at this size, he had gotten used to each of their gaits as the resulting vibrations reached him through the floor. If this were Callie, he wouldn’t have even felt it yet.

But this person, whoever they were, wasn’t holding back any weight from their steps. Duncan could feel the full force of their feet smashing into the floor with reckless abandon, even from the bedroom at the back of the apartment.

Their timing couldn’t have been worse, either. Callie had just left for class fifteen minutes ago. Or did this intruder know that? Had they been spying on Callie? Did they know about him?

They weren’t heading directly for the room, which gave Duncan plenty of time to reach the floor and head toward the door. It was riskier than making for the bed and hiding there, but he knew the only place he’d be truly safe, and he needed to get there as soon as possible.

Several loud, hard to discern noises were coming from the front end of the apartment. Whoever this was, their intentions weren’t good. Maybe he could get a look at them before reaching his hiding spot, give Callie enough information so that the police could identify whoever this was.

“Oh Duncan,” a familiar voice called out from the living room. “Come out here, you little jerk!”

Natasha! he realized. Fuck! Fuck, fuck fuck!

There was a time where she didn’t scare Duncan at all, a time when he had nothing to lose. Survival was all that mattered, and when his time was up, it was up. He had accepted that and was okay with it when he had last met the menacing redhead.

But now he had so much to lose, and the thought of her taking all of it away terrified him.

Duncan had nearly made it to the door when Natasha’s rumbling footsteps increased in intensity. She was getting closer! He sprinted for all he was worth, hoping he would make it in time.

He arrived at the base of the wall just beside the door when it started to open. The door itself blocked his view of Natasha, but he could feel her presence. When she stepped into the room and into his line of sight, he noticed several rips and stains in her jeans, and her tan shirt was torn in several places. Her hair was a mess, too, with dirt and several knots littering her hair all the way down to the small of her back.

“You’re here, Duncan,” she said with an edge of desperation. “You have to be!”

Duncan crawled underneath the gap underneath the now open door, trying to ignore the shaky ground as Natasha walked into the room. He looked back just before starting to run down the hallway, catching a glimpse of her hands grabbing each end of his shoebox.

“I knew it!” he heard Natasha yell through the wall as ran down the hallway. “I knew you were here. And it looks like you upgraded living spaces since staying with me. Was my panty drawer not good enough for you?”

As he continued to run, Duncan heard a thud against the wall, like cardboard being thrown into something. He knew it was his home that she had tossed away like it was nothing, and the thought of her treating it that way filled him with an unexpected rage. That shoebox was the only true home he’d ever had!

He made his way down the hallway as he heard Natasha tearing the bedroom apart looking for him. All those laps he had run around the apartment over the past couple months were really paying off, as he had plenty of stamina and knew the terrain well as he sprinted down the hallway.

When Duncan got to the living room, he was shocked at how trashed it was. The couch was flipped over, and there was trash from the kitchen trashcan spread all over the floor of both rooms.

Did she think I was hiding in the fucking trash?! he thought. What the fuck?!

“Ugh! Where are you, Duncan?!” Natasha shouted, followed by another loud crash. “Do you really think I’m just going to leave after what you’ve done to me? I’m going to find you, and it’s going to be worse for you the longer you make me look!”

Done to her? Duncan asked himself. What? Did I not scream enough when she tortured me or something?

Duncan didn’t have time to dwell on Natasha’s accusation, however. He could tell by her footsteps that she was heading for the hallway. He decided to use the trash on the floor to his advantage, hiding himself under a large chocolate candy bar wrapper that was both longer and wider than he was. He laid down with it atop him, doing his best to ignore the tickling of the shag carpet against his face.

The tremors became more violent as Natasha walked into the living room. Her beaten-up white and pink Converse shoe crashed into the ground right beside Duncan, rattling his bones. A small gust of wind generated by her step nearly blew his shelter off of him. He was just barely able to suppress his initial instinct to scream.

“Where are you?!” Natasha yelled, stomping her right foot in frustration.

The force of her stomp actually threw Duncan slightly off the ground, and he had to struggle to remain covered by the candy wrapper, clinging to it desperately to keep it from blowing away once again.

After standing there for a minute, apparently waiting for him to reveal himself in spite of her foul mood, Natasha huffed and set off for the other side of the living room. This left Duncan’s path open for the moment, but he proceeded with caution, finding various pieces of trash to hide under as he inched his way to the kitchen.

The kitchen floor had the added obstacles of silverware, spices, and other things emptied from its drawers and cabinets. He hurdled spoon handles and did his best to avoid grains of salt, pepper, and other spices large enough to cut his bare feet before he finally made it to the ladder leading to the countertop.

It was a bit of a gamble climbing the ladder with Natasha in plain view, but chances were that there would never be a good time to do it, so Duncan took the chance. He watched her as ascending the rungs, her denim-clad rear pointing in the air as she was on her knees digging through trash in the living room.

It looked like he had moved out of there just in time.

Natasha stood back up just as Duncan made it to the countertop. He ran behind a jar of peanut butter just before she turned around to face the kitchen, putting his back against it. He could feel her moving into the room. Glancing to his left, he lamented that Callie and he hadn’t put the ladder closer to the microwave.

He peeked around the jar. Natasha was now going through the trash on the floor in the kitchen. He knew it was only a matter of time before she started checking behind everything on the counter, so he decided to take a chance yet again.

Duncan started making his way toward the microwave, toward the hole he once used to get in and out of the apartment. If he could just get there, he could hide out in the walls until Callie got back from her class, and everything would be fine.

He used whatever he could as cover along the way: various jars, a bag of flour, the knife rack. Natasha still hadn’t thought to look up at the counter yet.

That’s right, I’m in the trash, Duncan thought as he looked back at Natasha. Just keep digging, bitch. I’m there.

The final straightaway between Duncan’s last piece of cover, Callie’s waffle maker, and the microwave was about 150 feet on his scale. Half a football field was a long time to go exposed, but his time was running out. He took a couple deep breaths to psych himself up, then took off in a dead sprint.

Natasha’s hand slammed down on its side in front of him about midway there, its palm blocking his path.

“Oh, there you are,” she said, the distress in her voice now removed, replaced with a darkly smug tone. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you again.”

Duncan looked up to respond, but he never got the chance. Keeping her left hand in front of him, Natasha’s right swooped in from behind, her fingers swallowing up his entire being. The sweltering pitch black confines of her closed hand were made all the worse as she tightened her grip, threatening to squeeze him into oblivion.

He received a small respite as she adjusted her hold on him, manipulating his body with her fingers so that his head and shoulders were sticking out of her fist. He noticed that she was holding him in front of her moderate-sized chest. Another quick squeeze drained the air from his lungs.

“Where were you going, though?” Natasha said, more to herself than to the little man trapped in her hand.

Her eyes traced the trajectory of Duncan’s mad dash for safety, landing on the microwave. As tall as a four- or five-story building to him, she pushed it aside with minimal effort from her free hand. Her gaze then landed on the now-exposed hole in the wall.

“Wow, if you had made it there you would have actually gotten away,” Natasha said. “Pretty slick.”

She looked down at Duncan, finally seeming to notice that he was having a hard time breathing. He felt her grip loosen and began sucking in as much air as he possibly could. Glancing upward, he thought he caught the slightest sympathetic cringe on her dirty face before her expression hardened.

“But that doesn’t matter,” Natasha said. “You didn’t get there, and now you’re going to help me out.”

Despite the scowl on Natasha’s face, Duncan was more taken with how tired she appeared to be. Deep bags were weighing down her half-open eyelids from below. In addition to the splotches of dirt on her face, there were several small scratches on her cheeks as well. He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her.

“Help you how?” he asked. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s not a lot I can do at this size.”

Natasha’s baby blue eyes narrowed even more as they stared down at her tiny captive. That look put the fear of God into Duncan, but he knew he had to keep his cool.

“Don’t play with me,” she growled. “You know exactly what I want from you.”

Duncan shook his head.

“I really don’t,” he said.

Natasha’s hand shot skyward as she raised him to her face.

“Call. Them. Off.” she said. “If you don’t ...”

Natasha’s fingers tightened around him once more, threatening to mush his internal organs together. She held her grip for a few seconds before loosening it just enough for him to breathe again.

“C-call who o-off?” Duncan asked, struggling to regain his breath.

Natasha grunted in frustration.

“The people you’ve been sending after me!” she yelled desperately. “I thought you were bluffing before, so okay, you got me. All I want to do is go home and get back to my old life. If you do that, you’ll never see me again, I swear!”

After Duncan’s ears stopped ringing, he tried to piece together what Natasha had said. Bluff? He racked his brain to remember. And then it struck him like a lightning bolt.

When Natasha had first flipped on him and started tormenting him, he had told her about his position in Monica’s company and lied about them having a private security force that would find him and hunt her down.

There were rumors about some kind of secret business taking place on the building’s 44th floor, but Duncan knew it wasn’t anything hostile. It seemed a harmless enough lie at the time, with no obvious downside to it.

Of course, no obvious downside didn’t mean no downside at all, as he was now discovering.

“Someone’s really coming after you?” Duncan asked. “That’s got jack shit to do with me. I was just bluffing before.”

Natasha’s eyes went wide, and her expression turned to one of worry.

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” she hastily mumbled. “I’ve been on the run for weeks, and now it’s finally over. You did this, so stop it! Call off Lyra and the other goons. Please!”

Duncan scrunched his face in confusion.

“Who’s Lyra?” he asked.

Natasha stared thoughtfully at Duncan.

“She’s one of the ones coming after me,” she said. “I stole her car after she almost had me in the woods, and I found her name on the registration. Her GPS had this address in it with your name pinned to it, so don’t tell me you don’t know her.”

A theory immediately popped into Duncan’s mind about who this mysterious Lyra could be. It would be easy enough to confirm, too.

“What does Lyra look like?” he asked.

Natasha looked confused.

“She’s a skinny blonde with blue streaks going through her hair,” she explained. “Why?”

There it was. The girl with the blue streaks was Lyra. And not only was Natasha not working with her, but Lyra was actively hunting her for some reason. If Duncan could just reason with Natasha, the two of them might be able to figure out what was going on with all this.

But as unpredictable as Natasha was, that was far from a given.

“I think I know what’s going on,” he said. “At least a little bit. Hear me out?”

Natasha’s fingers uncoiled and her palm went flat under Duncan. She gave him a nod, which he took as a sign to start his explanation.

********

“Pretty much every professor here takes your number at the start of the fucking semester,” Callie grumbled as she neared her run-down apartment complex. “So why don’t they just text you when class is canceled?”

As she approached her apartment door, her heart stopped. The door was cracked just a tiny bit. A couple months ago, she would walk out to the parking lot and call 911 to report a break in. But a couple months ago, she didn’t share her apartment with her almost three-inch-tall boyfriend.

So instead, Callie put her ear to the cracked portion of the door, just making out a feminine voice on the other side.

“… so you really didn’t send …” the voice said, fluctuating in volume enough to keep her from understanding full sentences.

Still unsure what was happening, Callie decided that she couldn’t afford to be cautious and risk Duncan’s safety. She had to act.

She burst through the door, taking a redheaded woman standing in her kitchen by surprise. She looked pretty roughed up, covered in scratches and dirt. But it was on the tiny man she was holding that Callie focused most of her attention.

“Put him down!” Callie demanded of the stranger. “And after that, tell me who the fuck you are and why the fuck you’re in our apartment.”

The stunned redhead did as instructed, slowly lowering her open palm to the kitchen countertop she herself was leaning against. As soon as Duncan jumped off the woman’s fingers, Callie wasted no time marching toward her.

“Easy now,” the woman said, defensively putting her hands in front of her. “My name’s Natasha, and this has been a misunderst—”

Any doubt Callie had about her next course of action evaporated once she heard that name. This was the same Natasha who had tortured her poor Dunky for a week. The same Natasha that played a part in shrinking him. The same Natasha they had spent the past month looking for. Callie knew exactly what she needed to do.

She punched Natasha in the face.

Callie caught Natasha’s jaw with a right hook, using the surprise of her attack to throw Natasha’s body away from the counter. As Natasha stumbled toward the living room, Callie put herself directly between Natasha and Duncan.

Callie could just vaguely hear Duncan’s voice behind her, but between the adrenaline pumping through her and not wanting to take her eyes off the redheaded she-devil in front of her, her brain couldn’t process his words. Instead, she charged at Natasha again, this time in a full sprint.

“Wai—” Natasha tried to say as Callie tackled her into the living room.

Callie was on top of Natasha, who was flat on her back. Callie’s knees were on either side of Natasha’s rib cage as she was sitting on the redhead’s midsection, raining down punches from her elevated position.

The blonde was so focused on attacking Natasha that she never noticed the redhead reach out and grab one of the small lamps that used to be standing on the matching end tables surrounding the couch. Natasha swung wildly at Callie, connecting with her right temple.

Natasha used this to her advantage, rolling over and putting herself on top of the disoriented Callie. Trying to shake off the blow, Callie barely noticed Natasha tossing the lamp to the side. The intruder then turned her eyes back to Callie, looking as though she were ready to say something.

That’s when a white light completely enveloped Natasha.

In a matter of seconds, Natasha was gone. No, not gone, Callie realized. She could feel the slightest weight on her stomach. She looked over her chest, only to find a dazed Natasha standing on her abdomen.

And she was less than three inches tall.

Callie instinctively reached down with her right hand and scooped up Natasha in a loose fist as she sat up and turned to look at the apartment’s front door, ignoring the tiny woman’s protests. Standing just inside the now-closed doorway was a blonde-haired woman wearing gray sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt.

Her hair also happened to have blue streaks highlighted into it.

“Well, this is going to be a problem,” the girl with the blue streaks said with a sigh.

Moving to get up, Callie finally noticed the device the woman was holding in her right hand, something that looked like a futuristic toy gun with a chrome body.

“Not so fast, Ms. Girlfriend,” the woman said, pointing the gun at Callie. “Take your time getting up.”

Callie placed both her hands on the ground, remembering to set Natasha down first. She slowly pushed herself up to her feet, already having a pretty good idea about what the gun can do.

“You just had to come to here of all places, didn’t you?” the girl with the blue streaks asked with slight annoyance as she looked down at Natasha. “Do you have any idea how much shit the boss is gonna give me for this?”

The woman pulled a phone out of her pocket with her left hand, tapping the screen a few times with her thumb without taking her eyes off Callie. Then she brought it to her ear.

“It’s Lyra,” she said, pausing to listen to the person at the other end. “Yes, ma’am, this is a burner. You know I wouldn’t call you from a real phone.”

Callie didn’t move a muscle as she listened to half a conversation, one that could very well determine her future.

“Yeah, I’m at the apartment. That bitch Natasha stole my car and found her way here,” Lyra said, listening before speaking again. “No, don’t worry about her. She’s good and shrunk now. But we have another problem.”

Callie cringed, realizing that she was being categorized as a problem by a crazy lady with what she was pretty sure was a shrink ray.

“Yep, both of ‘em,” Lyra said. “He’s on the kitchen counter, and she’s standing right in front of me with a silly look on her face.”

Callie noticed Lyra glance over at the kitchen counter. Callie’s eyes followed as she looked back to see Duncan still standing there, watching and probably feeling just as helpless as she did.

“You know, I could just take care of both of the girls right here and just grab the target,” Lyra said with chilling casualness. “It would be a lot less hassle that way, right?”

Lyra’s face morphed into a deep frown at the answer her boss gave her.

“Aw, come on, boss,” she whined. “I hate having to fight with everyone else to get the ones I want, and I’m the one doing the work on this, so why shouldn’t I just—”

Lyra stopped cold as Callie could now hear the angry voice of the woman on the other end of the phone.

“N-no, Ms. Baneford,” Lyra stammered, her face turning white. “O-of course I’m not questioning your j-judgment! I would never, Ms. Baneford! And I apologize for the disrespect!”

Even as Lyra started to calm down, Callie noticed that the woman’s laid back demeanor had vanished, replaced by a more serious one.

“I understand, ma’am. I’ll just go ahead and …”

As Lyra continued her conversation, she suddenly pulled the trigger of the device in her hand. Callie felt the beam hit her almost as soon as she saw it. She felt cold as the surrounding room got larger and larger. It didn’t hurt, but it was the single most terrifying experience of her life.

When the shrinking finally stopped, everything looked impossibly huge! Well, everything except for Natasha, who was back to only being a head shorter than Callie. Much like Callie herself, Natasha seemed to be too stunned and too frightened to move.

Is this what everything looks like to Duncan? Callie asked herself, trying to shut out Lyra’s thunderous voice that had just seemed normal a few seconds ago. H-how does he deal with this?

She had just begun to lament being so ignorant about her boyfriend’s perspective when she received an awe-inspiring reminder of her own grim situation. Still talking on the phone, Lyra began to walk toward the kitchen counter, her footsteps shaking the carpeted earth beneath Callie’s feet.

“So I’m taking all three of them back then?” Lyra’s voice boomed across the room. “Fair enough. I’m grabbing the target now.”

Callie saw Lyra put the shrink ray in her right pants pocket, pulling a small black bag out of her left pocket. Callie couldn’t see Duncan from her position on the floor, but she saw Lyra stuff something from the countertop into the bag.

“Yes ma’am, I’m being careful,” Lyra said in a professional tone, the look on her voice showing how annoyed she was with the question.

Lyra turned around and began walking toward Callie and Natasha. The slap of the sole of her light blue flip-flops against her heel filled the air with each step. The shaking became more intense as the giantess got closer, knocking both tiny women onto their butts.

“I think I oughta leave my car here,” Lyra said as she crouched down, reaching for Natasha. “If Shale’s Research floor is even halfway decent, they’ll have figured out it’s mine by now anyway. I’m sure they know Natasha was driving it, too.”

Lyra plucked Natasha from the ground between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand, not even looking at tiny before stuffing her in the bag with Duncan. Her hand then reached back down for Callie.

“Yeah, there’s no way they can link me back to the company, so all it’ll do is confuse the shit out of ‘em,” Lyra said as she grabbed Callie. “No ma’am, I swear I’m not, but you’re right that I would need another car if we did that.”

The feeling of Lyra’s thumb pressing into her stomach and a giant index finger into the small of her back was so surreal for Callie. Lyra was obviously experienced in handling people her size, as, despite the absolute terror of being raised dozens of feet into the air in a matter of seconds, she wasn’t physically uncomfortable in the giantess’s grip.

Callie’s fear reached a new level as she was held over the opening of the bag, the pure darkness within an abyss leading to the horrifying unknown. Without warning, Lyra’s fingers left, and Callie screamed as she fell at least 10 feet on her scale before landing on the soft interior of the bag.

“Great!” Lyra giggled, her previous hesitance in dealing with her boss no longer present. “And I’ve got all three of ‘em bagged and ready to go. Barry is waiting out front for me. Once we’re out of the parking lot, we’ll cut the loop on their little security camera and then …”

The rest of the conversation was cut off as Lyra pinched the bag shut, her voice, while only a little less boisterous, being too muffled to understand.

Callie scrambled around in the bag as they began to move.

“Duncan!” she called out. “Where are you?”

The bag started to sway, tossing Callie about.

“Over here!” he answered, his voice coming from her left.

Callie fought against the force of their involuntary movement, crawling desperately to the sound of Duncan’s voice. She reached out until she felt him, her hand landing on his right cheek. Almost magnetically, they were drawn to each other. Duncan took her in his arms for the first time, offering her small comfort as they awaited whatever lay ahead.

“It’s going to be okay,” Duncan told her with a determined tone. “We’re going to be okay.”

Callie knew there was no way he could know that. She knew that he was just as powerless as she was against the giant world outside the bag. She knew that he was lying to her. But she didn’t care. She needed to hear those words right now, more than anything else in the world.

And so, Callie believed him.

Chapter End Notes:

So yeah, I cheated!

This is the end of this story, but not the end of things for Callie, Duncan, and company. I'm just breaking this up into (at least) two separate stories. The next story will be a direct continuation of this one.

Why am I doing that?

My main reason is that the tone of the story is about to change significantly. No, that doesn't mean we're doing a 180 and it's going to be cruel torture porn. Not at all! There will still be plenty of the gentle, sensual stuff and fun character interactions that served as the building blocks of this story. However, obviously, I think, given the grand height of the cliff I've left you all hanging from, the second story is going to have a different feel. It's going to be more plot-oriented. It's going to put our lovable characters in entirely different situations. And it's going to have a few tags associated with it that I never even considered slapping onto this one.

In short, when I started this story, I promised that it would be gentle with only a few decidedly ungentle moments. As we get into the who, how, and why of what happened to Duncan, that's going to change. So to answer those questions properly, a sequel story felt more appropriate than simply continuing on in this one.