Instant Message from ShortStuff
ShortStuff: Hi, Kristi, do you do role-play?
Kristi: Sure!
ShortStuff: Well, mine’s a specific fantasy.
Kristi: Oh? Tell me.
ShortStuff: I dream about a giantess.
Kristi: A giantess?
ShortStuff: Yes. A woman who can shrink me down to fit in the palm of her hand.
I didn’t get it at all. It made absolutely no sense to me. After a few minutes of floundering, I asked him to write me an e-mail describing his fantasy, but he never did. I wasn’t disappointed.
I mentioned the giantess thing to Rachel the next day. “He wanted to be small enough to fit in my palm,” I said.
“Or other places,” she observed.
Oh. Of course. How the hell did I miss that one?
“Maybe I’ll send him to you,” I teased her. “You seem to understand him.”
“Sure,” she answered. “I can think of stuff to do for him. Let him hang from my giant nipples.”
We laughed. Having a friend in the business really helps sometimes.
•
This guy’s profile said, “Just call me Big Todd.” We had a nice online chat, and he admitted that he occasionally called phone girls.
“What do you like to talk about?” I asked.
“Well I have two fantasies,” he began. “One is mostly vanilla, and the other one is pretty out there.”
“Tell me the out there one!” I said enthusiastically. “I like out there.” I figured it for something BDSM-related, since he’d used the word vanilla.
“I like to imagine shrinking a woman down until she’s really small.”
Great. Too bad this was a guy or I’d send him to the giantess fantasy boy.
“How small?” I asked.
“It depends,” he answered. “Doll-size, or sometimes much smaller. Different women like different sizes.”
How many different women like this at all?
“How small do you think you would like to be?” he inquired.
Think fast.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “I never really thought about it.” I remembered the image that the giantess guy had given me. “Maybe small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.”
“Or maybe even smaller,” he said with a grin.
“What do you do with the women you shrink?” I asked.
“Well if they want to be doll-sized, I usually give oral. But I have… other things I like for the really tiny ones.”
All sorts of wild and semi-unpleasant thoughts flitted through my head.
“Like what?”
“Nah,” he teased. “It has to be a surprise.”
He promised to call me soon.
Oddly enough, as I was poking around online that very night, I came across an article about giantess fetishes. I read it, fascinated. It was about men who fantasize giant women – huge, stomping creatures who can squash them with a single toe. It even gave these men a name: macrophiles. And it provided a list of links to macrophile sites.
Curious, I popped over to Yahoo and entered the world “microphile.” Maybe the reverse also exists. A bunch of sites came up, and they were all named some variation on “The Incredible Shrinking Woman.” Wow.
I clicked onto the first site, and sure enough there was a picture of a scantily dressed woman sitting in the palm of an enormous masculine hand. I’ll be damned.
•
When Todd called, he didn’t want to tell me about his fantasy in advance, he just wanted to role-play.
“It’s your first visit to the bar,” he began. “You came here because you heard it was wild, that all kinds of amazing things go on.”
“Mmmmm, I like it already.”
“All around are people in leather, spikes, all sorts of wild clothing. It’s loud. You make your way to the bar, order a drink, and turn to have a look around.”
I could see it. The crowds, the lights, me glancing lazily around the room.
“I catch your eye – you notice me right away.”
“Oh?” I inquired, teasingly. “Because you’re gorgeous, right?”
“Exactly!” he replied. I could almost hear his eyes twinkling.
“Mmmmm,” I replied. “And what are you wearing?”
“A business suit, very sharp,” he answered. “But it’s not the clothes that attract you. It’s the come hither look.”
I approached his table and smiled.
“You look new here,” he said.
“I am. It’s my first time.”
He smiled at me. “I love redheads.”
“What a coincidence. Mind if I join you?”
“Please do.”
We sipped our drinks, smiling at each other, making small talk for a few minutes. Then:
“You’re very beautiful, you know. Are you interested in an unusual experience?”
“I like unusual experiences. What kind?”
“Let’s just say it’s the ultimate in submission.”
I was silent for a moment. “The ultimate?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Are you up to such a challenge?”
An odd moment. I actually considered saying no.
“Well,” I drawled, “I always did love a challenge.”
He looked into my eyes, stood, and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
He led me back into the hallway. There were many doors on either side, and he escorted me through one and locked it behind us.
“Why are you locking the door?” I asked.
“I see. Should I be scared?”
“No,” he said, then added, “Not yet.”
“So what happens now?” I asked. The scene felt very real. I could feel my own tension in the small, locked room.
“Make yourself comfortable on the bed there. How about if I pour you a drink?”
“All right,” I answered. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out on the bed, back against the wall. “What are you having?”
“Well, I’m just having some bottled water. But please, have a drink. What would you like?”
Another odd, disjointed moment. I don’t drink. But I suppose Kristi does. What would I like to drink? My mind refused to work. What do people drink normally? I have literally no idea at all. Oh wait…
“I’ll have a glass of white wine.”
“Excellent. I have a lovely white here. A toast.”
I took the glass. “What should we drink to?”
“To adventure.”
“To adventure,” I agreed. I already knew the wine was drugged. And so did Kristi. But the fantasy girl didn’t. How many personas did I have going at once?
We drank and he watched me closely. He put on some soft music.
“Would you care to dance?” he inquired.
“All right,” I agreed. “I’d better put my shoes back on.”
“Yes,” he said. “As you step into your shoes, you notice that they feel a bit looser than they used to.”
I didn’t react.
I stepped closer to him, and he put his arm around my waist, drawing me against him. I slid my arm around his neck, swaying with the music.
“And you notice that your shoes are feeling even looser.”
“Something… strange is going on here.”
“Just relax, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Your clothes are starting to feel loose too. You feel them hanging on your frame, but you don’t get worried until suddenly you feel your panties slip down your legs.”
“What’s happening?” I sounded scared.
“It’s okay,” he soothed.
“No,” I insisted. “Something’s going on. I feel… funny.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Did you… did you put something in my drink?”
“Yes, I did,” he answered, matter-of-factly.
I stepped back and pushed him away.
“What was it?” I demanded.
“It was a shrinking agent.”
“A what?”
“Surely you realize that you’re getting smaller.”
“What are you doing to me? How small will I get?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll become about 12 inches high.”
“12 inches!”
“You did say you wanted an adventure, my dear. The ultimate submission, remember?”
“Yes…” I paused. “Is it… temporary?”
“I have the antidote, it’s all right.”
I tried to relax.
“How big am I now?”
“Oh, about… about three feet tall. Your clothes are quite large on you now. They look very uncomfortable tenting around you.”
“They feel heavy.”
“Here, let me help you out of them. There, doesn’t that feel better? Let me help you up onto the bed. Now just relax as I get out of my own clothes.”
“Oh, everything looks so strange… so big.”
“I’m naked now, and I join you on the bed. You look so small and sexy lying there against the pillows.”
“I… feel a little sexy. So tiny… so small and helpless…”
“Mmmmm, good girl. Now spread your legs for me… that’s right… I’m going to put my cock inside you so gently…”
I gasped. “Ohhh… it’s so big….”
“That’s right,” he said softly. “It’s very big inside you… and you’re so small and tight…”
“And you’re still getting smaller…so it feels like my cock is expanding inside you.”
Wow. Now that was sexy.
“Every time I thrust into you, it’s bigger and bigger… you’re getting smaller and smaller… so tight that it almost doesn’t fit…”
I gasped and moaned and almost cried a little…then after a moment I sensed that he was waiting for something, so I tried, “Oh pleeeease… it’s too big… take it out….”
“Ahhhhh, I slip out of you… you’re getting so tiny… I lean down and put my head between your little legs and press my tongue against your tiny little pussy…”
“Ohhhh… ohh yesss….”
“My tongue is enormous against you… it covers your entire pussy with every movement… I can lift you with my tongue…”
“Ohhhh god…. ohh yesss yesss….”
“Now come for me, my tiny little Kristi… dance on my tongue for me…”
What a wild image.
“And as you’re coming you’re getting smaller still… until you’re only about 12 inches high. Oh, good girl, Kristi, you look so beautiful like that… I pick you up in my hand and let you sit in my palm.”
I enjoyed that. It seemed like a fun place to be.
“Oh, this is so amazing,” I said. “Your fingers look so big! I put my arms around one of your fingers and squeeze, just to see how it feels.”
He sounded amused, chuckling almost indulgently.
“Now, would you like to try being even smaller?” he inquired.
“Oh… umm…”
I was a little disappointed. I wanted to play more. I wanted him to put me on his cock and let me straddle it, and then climb up his chest hair.
“I’d like to make you very, very small…”
Damn. Got to be a phone sex operator. “How small?”
“A quarter of an inch. Maybe smaller.”
“Yes, it is. Here, be a good girl and open your mouth.”
I obliged.
“I take a drop of your wine on my finger and let it roll into your mouth. Just a drop is all you’ll need.”
“Oh, it’s happening so much faster this time… I can see everything changing around me…”
Let me just stop the description right here. Up until now, the scenario had been a little silly and a little sexy. But then the next question he asked me was whether I liked “facials.” Bleh. I have to say, I don’t even like the “come all over my face” thing when I’m five feet tall. Bathing in semen does not sound like my idea of a good time.
But I had to be a professional, so I obediently oohed and ahhed over the idea, and let him put me, er, on the inside of him.
As you may have guessed, my imagination sometimes tends to run on its own, so I immediately started feeling like I was in a dark cave with a long passageway. I suppressed a giggle and resisted the impulse to jump up and down and bang on the walls.
He started talking about jerking off with me on the inside.
“Oooh… I can feel your cock moving…”
I’m Princess Leia from Star Wars! (Remember when the ship started shaking and they realized the cave wasn’t a cave?) I pictured holding my itty-bitty arms out for balance. My god, it’s an earthquake! Hang on!
But wait! What’s that big rumbling sound? I’m Indiana Jones. “I’ve got a baaaaad feeling about this…” Oh no… what’s that rushing towards me? Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!
Okay, okay, I’ll stop making fun of it. After all, that must be what it feels like to get shot out of a cannon. Um, a really wet cannon.
But instead of flying across the room to land in the middle of a pile of cotton candy near the lion cages, I apparently landed on his stomach. Ah well.
“And now you start to feel the drug wearing off,” he said. “You’re growing, expanding, bigger and bigger, and you’re lying on top of me, naked. And just as you’re back to your regular size, I wrap my arms around you and kiss you.”
That was even sort of romantic.
When I wrote him his note the next morning, I included a picture of Kristi. A very, very tiny one.
•
Todd has become one of my most faithful callers. When he got a raise and a promotion, he called to celebrate, and I actually felt funny about it, like it was too close to real.
That evening he shrunk me down so that I could fit in his shirt pocket and he took me to his new office. I could just imagine Kristi sitting in his pocket, arms folded, peering out over the edge of the fabric.
He sat down in his chair and put me on his desk. I felt like I was in a big playground. I tiptoed on a pencil like a balance beam, I climbed around on his phone, and I bounced up and down on his stapler. He laughed tolerantly, exactly as you’d laugh at a little kid in a toy store. Then he started to tell me about his old boss, whom he described as a real bitch. He wanted to celebrate his promotion away from her department by playing a fantasy about her with me.
He began the scene with her coming in to berate him about something. I hid behind the pencil cup and watched. He let her rant for a few moments, and then pressed a hidden switch on his desk. He explained how she was beginning to shrink. With great satisfaction he described the outrage and fear she felt as she shrunk right out of her clothes and down to doll-size. With one hand he picked her up – naked and shrieking and kicking – and plopped her down on the desk.
“Well, Kristi,” he said, “She doesn’t seem so powerful now, does she?”
I laughed. “What should we do with her?”
“Anything you want,” he answered. “I want to watch.”
“Ooooooh,” I exclaimed. “Fun!”
I considered, casting around for ideas on the desk. What would make a good toy? Then I had an inspiration.
“Make her sit on the tape dispenser!” I said. “With her legs hanging over on those pointy edges!”
He laughed loud. It was that “Man, Kristi, you sure are outrageous” laugh that I get occasionally. The last time was when I told a caller that I had new nipple clamps that I bought off eBay.
“You’re really mean,” grinned Todd, but he dutifully scotch-taped his miniature captive down, wriggling, to the tape dispenser.
I taunted her for a few minutes, and was just about to start bending paper clips into mini-handcuffs when he got impatient and took over. He shrunk her to half my size and made her pleasure me in a variety of ways while he watched. Finally he kicked her out of the office. He seemed immensely pleased with the image of the tiny little bitch sobbing and scurrying away.
He turned his attention back to me and told me how sexy it was to watch us together – little and littler.
I suggested that he pick me up and put me on his shoulder. I’d just watched Hook on TV and wanted to try out some good ideas that I’d gotten from seeing Julia Roberts as Tinkerbell. I stood on his shoulder and whispered nasty stuff in his ear. He seemed to like that, so I kissed my way down his neck, with hot, teeny tiny kisses that made him shiver. I enjoyed myself, describing how I would unbutton his shirt (the buttons seeming very big in my hands) and nibble my way down his body.
He had to help get his pants off, since they were completely out of Kristi’s scope at the moment. He didn’t seem to mind. I stood on his thigh and stripped off my doll-sized clothes, twirling around to show off my petite little naked body.
Now, ever since the first time this guy had called, I’d had this fantasy about him. I wanted to sit on his cock, straddling it, and then lean down and wrap my arms around it. I don’t really know why, but that image followed me around for months.
So I did it. I wasn’t sure if he would like it, but he did. I just wrapped my whole body around the length of his cock, hugged it, and gave him, well, not a hand-job, but a full “body-job.” It really was erotic. For me, it was all about imagining and describing the sensation. Where would my breasts be? If I wrapped my legs around his cock, which parts of me would rub where?
From the sound of it, he enjoyed himself too.
His most recent call was different. After a minute or so of chatting, he asked, “Heads or tails?”
“Tails!”
He chuckled. “Well look at that. It’s tails!”
“Ooh, what does that mean?”
“It mean,” he said, “that you get the shrink ray today.”
“I get to shrink you?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh my…”
I had teased him about shrinking him down to size, but I never expected him to want to do it.
“Todd, how tall are you?” I asked.
“About 6’2”,” he replied.
“Mmmm,” I whispered. “I’m 5’8”, you know. And first I’m going to press this little button and shrink you down just a little bit, just so you’re the same height as me.”
“Oh?” he asked, sounding aroused and a little surprised.
“Mmmm hmmm,” I answered. “Just for now. I love the feeling of being mouth to mouth… chest to chest… hip to hip…”
I’ve learned a great deal about sex doing calls, and I’m really stunned to find myself so aroused by some of these unusual kinks. I mean, the first time the guy called with a giantess fantasy, I laughed for a week. The idea seemed ludicrous to me. I’m beginning to form a theory, though. I think that people with fetishes see all the subtle variations of their fetish activities in a way that people who don’t share their kink don’t. Or maybe it’s that conveying the subtleties are the key to making vanilla partners understand. Most any unfamiliar kink seems weird and even laughable. We just see the gross outline, which doesn’t make any sense.
This shrinking business is the same. It isn’t just, “Bam! You’re two inches high, so crawl inside me.” I find nothing arousing about that. In fact, it seems ridiculously unsexy. But shrinking him little by little, seeing where his hands and mouth ended up at every stage, noticing how small his hands were in relation to my various body parts… it was a whole different story.
So we spent a bit of time kissing, lips at the same height, and then I shrunk him a bit more so that his mouth ended up conveniently placed at my breasts. Coincidentally, his arms wrapped perfectly around my ass in that position.
I was impatient then, and suggested that he remove the shirt that had become so baggy. He resisted and said that if I wanted him out of his clothes I’d have to shrink him out of them. I was agreeable. I sat down and leaned back in a chair, pressed the imaginary button at my side, and watched him reduce down to about three feet tall.
This was quite a good height indeed.
He disentangled himself from his pile of clothes, approached the chair, and proceeded to demonstrate exactly what activity this height was conducive to. He used his mouth first, then slipped his entire hand inside me. (I’ve never liked the idea of fisting, but this was a very small hand!) I squirmed and moaned obligingly, but in truth, I was enjoying the fantasy.
For the next logical step, I shrunk him down to, as he puts it, doll-size. This was small enough for him to fit in the palm of my hand, so I leaned down and he climbed on. He moaned audibly when I described picking him up. I lifted him first to my breast, where he held my nipple between his two hands, kneading it and kissing it. I imagined the tiny hard fingers pressing into my soft breast and the pair of small lips opening wide to encircle my hard nipple. Lovely.
Finally I lifted him off and placed him on the chair between my thighs. He had mostly let me do the talking to this point, but he’d clearly imagined this particular scenario before, because he became very descriptive. He told me how he’d run his whole body up and down my pussy lips before parting them with his hands. He described my clit overflowing both his palms, and trying to take it all in his mouth.
I have to admit, at this point I was losing interest. I’ve just never been one for detailed gynecological descriptions, and when he stuffed his whole body inside me (feet first, which somehow surprised me), I’d had enough. By the time he described emerging covered in slick bodily fluids, I’d really had enough.
But I obediently allowed him to believe that I had an orgasm with his whole body inside me, and then took a cue from my first call with him. I enlarged him until he was a reasonable size, then pulled him against me and whispered for him to put his cock inside me.
He did, and I set the enlarge button on “slow automatic.” I described his cock getting larger and larger inside me while his arms wrapped farther and farther around me. I didn’t press the “stop” button until he was just a little larger than he normally is.
He grinned at me, and said he’d keep the extra inch or so for a while.