NOTE: This story contains non-consensual shrinking, forced sexual situations, captivity, size-difference play, and themes of revenge and power exchange. All characters are consenting adults in the fictional sense only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. This story is for entertainment purposes only.
 
Description:
 
Drew has spent years fantasizing about being tiny under his wife’s feet. When Tabitha finally brings home a working shrink ray from the lab, the fantasy is no longer theoretical—and she is done waiting for him to stop flinching. What begins as a demonstration on household objects quickly escalates when she decides to give him exactly what he’s always claimed to want, using someone unexpected to make it real. Intense, dark, and unapologetically rough, this short story delivers non-consensual shrinking, foot domination, and the sharp edge of a fantasy that refuses to stay polite.
 
(shrinking, non-con, foot fetish, domination, size play, abuse)
 
Excerpt:
 
Drew lay on his back in the dark, one arm folded under his head, and tried not to think about the thing sitting on the workbench in the garage. It was impossible. The fantasy had lived in him for years, long before Tabitha ever brought the project home. He would close his eyes and picture himself small—really small—standing on the soft carpet of their bedroom while she loomed above him. Sometimes she was barefoot.
 
Sometimes she wore the thin ankle socks she liked to sleep in. Always she looked down at him with that half-smile that said she knew exactly what he wanted and was deciding whether to give it to him. In the fantasy he could feel the heat of her sole when she finally set her foot over him, the gentle but irresistible pressure, the way the ridges of her skin would fill his entire field of vision. He would get hard just from the thought of it.
 
He got hard now, in the quiet dark, while the real ray sat twenty feet away under a drop cloth. The difference was that the fantasy never asked him to step into the path of a working device. Tabitha had been part of the lab team for fourteen months. She had fought for the assignment, stayed late, brought home notes she wasn’t supposed to remove from the building.
 
When she finally told him the prototype was stable, her eyes had been bright with the particular pride she only showed when she had beaten something difficult into submission. She was twenty-five, sharp-featured, dark-haired, the kind of woman who looked like she had stepped out of a magazine even when she was in an old T-shirt and no makeup. Olivia Wilde had nothing on her when she was focused.
 
Tonight she had been focused on him. “It’s ready,” she had said earlier, standing in the doorway of the garage with the finished unit cradled in both hands like something precious. “Fully calibrated, reversible, and safe.”
 
He had felt the familiar drop in his stomach. They had started with a coffee mug first. Tabitha set it on the concrete floor, aimed the slim black emitter, and pressed the trigger. The process took almost exactly two minutes. There was a low hum, a faint shimmer in the air, and then the mug began to shrink in on itself with a series of tiny, dry creaks as the ceramic compressed.
 
The handle curled tighter. The rim drew inward. When it finished, the mug was the size of a thimble.
Tabitha picked it up between two fingers and set it in his palm so he could feel the impossible weight of something that small.
 
Other Info:
9,089 words
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