Breaking Brianna

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AB23
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Breaking Brianna

Post by AB23 » Sat Oct 31, 2020 3:12 am

Seen a lot of requests for this & I decided to post the story so it's here as an archival piece. All credits go to the original author, Huz;

None of America's medical experts predicted the arrival of a genetic mutation known as the Shrinking Gene. When hundreds of adolescents began mysteriously shrinking to approximately six inches tall, people all across the United States, and even throughout the rest of the world, panicked. For almost a year there were mass riots occurring every day. The President of the United States and Congress frantically mobilized the world's top doctors to find a cure. Their allies in the U.K., France, Russia, and other countries also aided them in this search for a remedy to the mass shrinking of so many teenagers, but the epidemic remained entirely contained within the borders of the U.S. This is what finally led scientists and doctors to agree that this uncanny transformation was not being caused by a virus or bacteria, but by a complex genetic mutation. After three years, world leaders conceded that there was no cure. Scientists dubbed this mutation the Shrinking Syndrome. Oddly enough, society adjusted itself fairly well after that.

One in a thousand people developed this mutation, and it always revealed itself in the years during puberty, before the age of twenty. Thus, anyone twenty and older counted themselves fortunate and went on with their lives.

As for those teens who were not so fortunate and who suddenly found themselves rapidly shrinking one day, they found that, although some public officials were doing their best to accommodate them, most people considered them as something less-than-human, more like pets or toys than actual people. Some law officials were doing their best to prosecute those that harmed or mistreated Shrinkies, but the cases were so numerous, with even more unreported, that the task soon proved impossible. Most Shrinkies entered a nightmare world where people treated them however they wished.

But not everywhere. Some parts of the country still protected the rights of Shrinkies, but those places were the exception, not the norm....

Who can tell me who the first man to reach the South Pole on foot was, and in what year?” asked Mr. Elkridge.

The classroom full of high school seniors was utterly silent, and only one hand shot up to answer the question. Mr. Elkridge waited with his arms folded, surveying the roomful of students somberly.

“Anyone?” he asked.

The lone hand remained extended. It waved back and forth and the student it belonged to groaned impatiently.

“Anyone?” the teacher asked yet again. “Anyone besides Brianna.”

Mr. Elkridge was answered again by total silence. He sighed in frustrated acceptance.

“All right Brianna, what’s the answer?”

“Roald Amundsen in 1911,” the spry eighteen-year-old answered.

“Yes, that’s exactly right,” Mr. Elkridge replied in a tone that indicated he was pleased with the answer, but not overly so.

Mr. Elkridge was underwhelmed because Brianna almost always had the correct answer and was not shy about showing off. She was at the top of her graduating class as far as academics were concerned. She also performed on the high school dance team. Her shiny black hair and dark eyes, her soft pink lips and high cheekbones, and her slim, athletic body with its trim, shapely hips and tight, toned stomach seemed to further encourage her love of the spotlight and magically attract camera lenses in her direction. She was an exceptional student both academically and physically, and quite popular among her classmates.

She was also a Shrinky and stood just under six inches tall.
Her raised hand had only been visible because she was seated on the first desk in the front row, and because she was literally seated on the desk, her bare, shapely legs crossed in front of her while her black T-shirt was lifted several Shrinky inches above the waistband of her shorts, exposing her toned midriff. Her B-cup breasts that strained against the shirt as she raised her arm were not overly impressive as far as size was concerned, especially at her current size, but they were shaped spectacularly, their perky, perfectly spherical shapes clearly visible through the tight top. After she finished answering Mr. Elkridge’s question, Brianna placed her arms behind her and leaned on them, continuing to jut out her chest so that her pert breasts remained on display, along with her flat stomach. She stretched her legs out in front of her and smiled in satisfaction.

At that moment the school bell buzzed over the intercom, and the sound of backpacks and papers rustling filled the room.

Brianna jumped to her feet and rose up on her tiptoes, flexing her calf muscles. Immediately after that she flexed her butt cheeks, knowing that every boy in the row behind her was checking out her butt that was shown off by her tight, pink gym shorts. She knew she had one of the tightest, petitest butts of all the girls in school, and her Shriny stature did not lower her confidence any.

Her high school was an Integrated High School, which meant that Shrinkies and unshrunken students attended it together, so when the majority of students cleared out of the classroom, a few Shrinkies besides Brianna were left behind, all seated in the front row. An equal number of regular-sized students stood up from various places around the classroom and walked up to the front row, where one student stood in front of each Shrinky and held out their hands next to the desks. These were Chaperones for the Height-Impaired, or CHI’s for short, and had been assigned that task by school administrators. Their job was to escort the Shrinkies from class to class and ensure that they were not harmed.

The part of the country that Brianna lived in was one of the few states where Shrinkies’ rights were protected. Public opinion was beginning to swing against these Shrinkies even in this part of the nation, but the laws still protected their rights as equals and those laws were still enforced.

Brianna’s CHI stepped next to the desk and lowered his hands next to it, cupping them together. Brianna sprang nimbly into his hands and crouched down, steadying herself with hands against his leathery palms. She glanced briefly up at his face. His name was Jacob. His face was average and his hair was red, both turnoffs for her. She found him to be boring and enjoyed teasing him with her body and denying him access to it, which was why she did not sit down on his hand like most Shrinkies did: She did not want to give him the satisfaction of touching her amazing butt.

“Let’s go,” she ordered, looking quickly away from him. “I need to be early for third period so you can set up for my presentation on the base eight number system.”

“Okay,” Jacob said resignedly. He turned and walked out of the classroom.

“Not so bumpy. Careful!” Brianna snapped. “I don’t like getting rocked around so much. Hold your hands more steady.”

“Okay, sorry.”

Jacob looked longingly down at her as he walked out of the classroom. He yearned to touch her body all over and have his way with her, but he knew the laws of his state and the policies of his school would not allow it, and he was too shy to disobey. He was annoyed with Brianna for being so snobbish, but his lust for her was even greater than his anger.

He carried her to her next class and placed her on her customary desk. She folded her arms and frowned up at him.

“All right, let’s get to work on setting up. Here’s what I need...” she began.

Jacob sighed and moved to obey her.

.......

Brianna reclined in the backseat of her mother’s car as she was driven home from school. She had the entire plush, leather seat to herself, and at her size, that was like having a small mountain meadow to herself.

She had shrunk two years ago. Thanks to the enforced laws where she lived, she had adjusted quickly to her new life at barely six inches tall. Her grades had not suffered in the least. She had been near the top of her class before discovering that she had the Shrinking Gene, and she remained academically superior to most of her classmates even after shrinking. She had already been offered several scholarships and had a bright academic future ahead of her.

She breathed deeply and calmly, looking forward to a night of partying with her girlfriends, followed by a trip out on the town the next day.

.......

“I knew I should never have agreed to stop at the mall,” Brianna grumbled to herself.

She paced back and forth restlessly on the tabletop in the corner of the mall’s food court. Her friends had insisted on stopping by the mall as part of spending the day downtown. Brianna hated this mall because it was located on the state border, and because of some county rule or another, was not required to follow the same pro-Shrinky laws as everywhere else in the city. The owners had taken full advantage of this to promote their anti-Shrinky bias, posting signs
everywhere in the mall that banned Shrinkies from any place in the mall except the food court. So now Brianna could only sit here with her milkshake, a milkshake that was regular size and not Shrinky size, and wait glumly for her friends to finish what they had promised would be a quick shopping trip. That promise had been an hour ago.

“This sucks!” she hissed to herself.

She strutted over to the milkshake and grabbed the bendy straw, pulling it down to her mouth and doing her best to suck some liquid out of it.

Without warning she accidentally slipped on the tabletop and fell forward, allowing the straw to slip out of her hands prematurely. It bounced up into the air and wobbled for a moment, coming to a stop high out of Brianna’s reach. She growled at it and stomped her foot in frustration.

“Damn it!” she snapped.

“Need some help with that?” asked a voice behind her.

She gasped and spun around to find a teenage boy standing next to the table. His unshrunken form loomed over her. She instantly decided he was good-looking, but not handsome enough for her tastes. His brown hair sprouted fuzzily out of his head, trimmed short and not gelled.
His body was somewhat slender but his shoulders were broad and his neck was thick, with a defined adam’s apple and a chin and nose with exactly the right amount of pronouncement. His eyes were slightly lighter than hers, and they twinkled as he grimaced down at her with a pitying expression. He adjusted a backpack that hung from his shoulders and continued to stare at her.

“What do you want?” Brianna asked, annoyed by the nature of his stare.

“I asked if you needed some help,” he said. “With this.”

His giant hand streaked past her head and grabbed the straw of the milkshake, bending it down to her level and holding it there.

“There you go,” he said in a slightly soprano voice, as if talking to a small child or animal, “have a drink little one. I’m sure your owner wants to keep that sexy body of yours healthy and hydrated.”

Brianna’s mouth fell open in shock. “Excuse me?” she said. “I’m not anybody’s pet!”

She smacked the straw out of his giant fingers. Drops of milkshake sprayed onto her face, shirt, the tabletop, and the boy’s hand.
“Hey, see what you did? You got yourself dirty,” the boy said in annoyance, shaking off his hand and rubbing it on his jeans. “You don’t behave very well do you? I didn’t expect to find such an unruly Shrinky on my last day of vacation.”

Brianna balled her hands into fists and stomped closer to him, but only until she realized that she was forced to tilt her head backward farther and farther to keep eye contact with him. This realization added to her fury.

“Look asshole, I don’t know how they do things where you’re from, but in this part of the world, Shrinkies aren’t pets!” she shouted. “They’re treated just like everybody else!”

The teenage boy’s brown eyes widened in his own state of shock. Then his face contorted into an angry frown.

“I knew this state was more liberal than most when it came to stuff like that, but I had no idea!” he breathed. “You mean you don’t have an owner at all?”

“No!” Brianna yelled at him. “Now get the hell out of here, jackass!”

The boy’s angry expression deepened. He folded toned arms across his chest.

“I’m not going to let some Shrinky talk to me that way,” he fumed. “You need to learn your place, little hussy, and I guess I get to teach it to you.” His expression suddenly brightened. “I have been thinking of getting my own pet Shrinky. Guess now’s a good a time as any.”

He unfolded his arms and the next thing Brianna knew, a giant hand was diving down toward her.

“What? No!” she shouted in angry surprise.

Seconds later giant fingers wrapped around her body and lifted her off the table.

“Put me down! How dare you! Help someone! Help!”

But the table was in a secluded corner of the food court, and no one was close enough to notice or hear her screams.

His fist flew up to his face. She stared up at him, twisting in his grip, sickeningly aware of how her breasts scraped keenly against the rim of his fist even through her shirt, and how her butt slid against the inside of his curled fingers.

“Put me down now you bastard!” she screamed.
“This is for your own good,” he said to her, the wind from his breath stirring the hairs on her head. “Shrinkies aren’t real people anymore, and the sooner they learn that, the better.”

He rotated his upper body around swiftly, jerking her roughly through the air, and began unzipping his backpack.

Her heart began to race in panic when she saw the zipper of the pack opening underneath her.

“No! You can’t” she shrieked in panic. “Help! Someone help me please!”

He lowered her toward the wide opening of the backpack.

“Don’t do this!” she cried up at him. “Please! No! No!”

Her last shout transformed into a wail as his fist released her and she plummeted into the waiting maw of his pack. She fell into darkness, landing in a soft, narrow crevice. She looked upward in time to see and hear the opening being zipped shut.

“No!” she screamed.

..........

For hours Brianna was carried around in the backpack, which swayed nauseatingly around with each of the giant teenage boy’s steps. She finally gave up punching, kicking, and yelling, and now lay against one of the walls of the pack’s interior and did her best not to lapse into medical shock, pass out, or vomit. She could not believe this was happening to her. No one had ever treated her like this teenage boy had. She had been kidnapped and put in a backpack, and it sounded like he intended to make her his pet. There was no way she would allow that.

“I just need to find a way to call my parents,” she whispered to distract herself from a strong wave of nausea. “Then they can come get me, or call the police.”

For another hour or more she remained trapped in the darkness of the backpack, which sometimes stopped to rest before lurching into motion again. She heard garbled conversations of crowds, the honking of horns, and the rumble of what sounded like the engine of a bus as heard from the inside, during her time in the pack. She felt her panic rising.

All at once the top of the pack was zipped open, creating a ceiling of indoor lighting that temporarily blinded her after her time in the blackness of the bag’s large pocket. A giant hand dropped through the opening and clawed at her. She tried to scramble away from it but there was nowhere to go to escape it. Its fingers grasped her and hoisted her into the air.

She was brought in front of the teenage boys’ face again. He stared at her with an unreadable expression. She squirmed in his grip as she studied the room around him. It was obviously
his bedroom, with swimsuit model posters covering the walls and clothes strewn over the bed, floor, and weight bench. Clothes and boxes filled the room’s closet. To Brianna, of course, the room was the size of a canyon, which made the fact that it belonged to the boy who had just kidnapped her even more frightening.

“Welcome to your new home,” he said to her. “You’ll realize that Shrinkies aren’t given special treatment in this state.”

“I don’t want special treatment. I deserve equal treatment!” Brianna shouted at him.

One of his tan, muscular calves dropped out of sight as he stood up, his khaki shorts rustling and his tight T-shirt creaking. He walked over to his bed and lowered Brianna onto it.

As soon as his fist opened, she charged across the mattress. But when she arrived at the edge of the bed she saw that the drop was much too far to jump and that there was nothing close enough to the bed to leap onto. She turned around at the same moment that the teenage boy’s hand flew up behind her. Its fingers pinched her right arm and dragged her back onto the mattress.

“Let go of me!’ she shouted, fighting against his grip, but she was no match for him at her size.

He yanked her arm over her head and held it there, then plucked her other arm from her side with his free hand and stuffed it into the fingers that held her first arm. She grunted and tugged with her arms, trying to free them, but they remained held high above her head. Her midriff was exposed again by the small shirt she wore, and his forefinger from his free hand darted out and began stroking her stomach.

“Don’t touch me!” she yelled.

His giant face filled her view as he knelt at his bedside, his warm breath blowing across her body once again. He stared at her thoughtfully.

“It’s time to start breaking you in before I head to bed,” he said.

“You jerk! You kidnapped me!” she cried.

“I didn’t kidnap you. You’re a stray Shrinky. I gave you a home. You should thank me.”

“Go to hell!” She was terrified and furious at the same time.

“You need to learn your place,” he said gruffly.

“You have no right to do this to me! You’re just some little boy with average looks!”
“Who are you calling little?” he demanded. “You’re the Shrinky here. And I’m seventeen.”

“Well I’m eighteen! And I’m going to be valedictorian and get a free ride to any college I choose!” she shouted, still attempting to pull her arms free from his fingers.

He smiled smugly at her. “You may be older than me, but I’m the one in charge. And your brain smarts, as well as the rest of you, belong to me now.”

His free hand lifted away from her stomach and slid down her bare legs to her feet, where it pulled off her left shoe, taking the sock along with it.

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“The first thing to do tonight is get you out of those clothes. Shrinkies don’t wear clothes unless their owners let them, and I want you naked.”

He pulled off the other shoe and sock.

Brianna finally succumbed to her rising panic. She screamed wordlessly and flailed her legs, writhing violently beneath the teenage boy’s hand. The next few minutes were a whirl of terror and broken images. Her shirt was torn from her body in shreds by giant fingers. Her shorts were whisked down her legs and off her feet despite her frantic kicking. Her already perky breasts were pushed even higher as her bra was cupped between a giant teenage forefinger and thumb, while a giant boy face leered appreciatively down at her cleavage. Then her bra was ripped off in two pieces by those same fingers, sending her small, pert breasts bouncing free. Her screams increased as her bare breasts were cupped and rubbed by the teenage boy’s forefinger and thumb. Moments later her panties were swished down her legs and away, leaving her completely nude and suspended by her arms from the teenage boy’s other hand.

“No! Give those back!” she shrieked as she saw the boy’s free hand slam down on top of the pile of the clothes he had stripped off her. She knew that only her panties and shorts still remained in one piece, but she did not care. She knew those clothes belonged to her.

“You’re my pet and you have to stay naked,” he replied simply.

He wadded up her shredded clothes in his hand and tossed them across the room into a squat trash can.

“No!” Brianna cried.

The boy turned back to her. His free hand began digging in the pocket of his shorts.

“I bought this on the trip home,” he said to her.
He lifted a slender, crescent object up between his fingertips. Light from the room flashed off its pink surface. Brianna suddenly realized what it was: a collar.

“No! Get that thing away from me! No! No!”

She convulsed and wriggled madly, frantically, desperately as he brought the open collar swiftly up to her neck. It appeared to me made of hard, rigid plastic.

“All good Shrinky pets wear collars,” the teenage boy said matter-a-factly.

“I’m a human being not an animal! I won’t wear that! Stop! No!”

She moved her neck from side to side too quickly for him to catch it with the open collar.

“Hold...still!” he growled impatiently at her.

“Leave me alone!”

Growling again deep in his throat, he yanked her arms to her sides and pinned them there with the hand that held her, lifting her swiftly off the bed and up to his face. He could now easily bring the collar up and snap it around her neck.

“No!”

It snapped into place.

Brianna screamed wordlessly in fury and despair, thrashing her legs.

“There we go,” the boy said.

He dropped her back onto the mattress.

Brianna clawed at the collar. “Get it off me!”

“It only comes off if I key in the correct code on this remote control,” he said, holding up a square remote with an antenna sprouting out of it, “and I’m not going to. It stays on, and tomorrow I’ll take you in to be registered with the city.”

“Get it off me now!” Brianna was horrified and furious beyond even her own comprehension. She vaguely remembered that she was also naked in front of a giant teenage boy, but her fury over the collar around her neck surged to the forefront of her mind again.

“No,” the teen boy said firmly. “Now, time to put you to bed.”
He grabbed her in his fist and stood, causing her to gasp at the sudden turbulent motion. She struggled in his fist as he carried her away from his bed.

“Put me down! Get this collar of me! Let me go! I’m not your pet!”

“Yes you are,” he said to her.

He crouched toward the floor and shoved a pile of clothes aside, revealing an open shoebox. He dropped her inside.

“This is your home for tonight. I’ll get you a better one tomorrow. If you need to go to the bathroom, you can use...uh...” He rummaged through the piles of clothes on his bedroom floor. “These.” He tossed three white socks into the shoe box, then pressed them against one side.

Brianna watched him do this in angry disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

He smirked superiorly down at her. “Good night. By the way, you should know your new owner’s name. I’m Cameron. And your new name is Tiffy.”

“My new name? You can’t name me! I already have...”

He slammed the shoebox’s lid heavily in place, blocking out the bedroom’s overhead electric light.

“Let me out of here!” she shouted, pounding against the wall. “I’ll suffocate!”

“Already taking care of that,” came the teenage boy’s muffled reply. “Better lie flat against the floor of the box for a minute.”

“What?” Brianna questioned.

Suddenly a giant folded pair of scissor blades punctured loudly through the lid of the box, stabbing at the air an arm's length away from her. She yelped and stumbled away from the blades, dropping to her knees and then onto her stomach. She trembled as the scissors stabbed randomly into the lid from different locations, one of which was directly above her.

“There, done,” the boy, Cameron, said. “Night.”

Brianna stood and pounded on the wall of the box again. “You can’t do this! Let me out now!”

She received no reply. She heard Cameron’s giant feet thudding around in his room, followed by the clinking of hangers against each other in the faraway closet. Later, the thin columns of light that filtered down through the air holes in the shoebox’s roof vanished, which she guessed meant he had turned out his bedroom light. She listened closely for more sounds, but could only
hear his steady breathing in the distance.

Hugging herself, she crouched down and shivered. She remembered again that she was naked. She could not believe that she had started this day like any other, happy, confident, possessing a bright future both academically and socially, and, most importantly, clothed, only to finish it stripped of her clothes and underwear and sleeping in a shoebox as a teenage boy’s pet.

No, I’m not his pet! she thought. I”ll never play his game! This is kidnapping, pure and simple!

Fuming, yet shaking in shock and fright, she slowly settled onto the floor of the box and drifted into a feverish, fitful sleep full of nightmares where she was stripped again and again by giant, boy hands.

.......

She woke early the next morning and knew that she needed to urinate.

She glanced over at the stack of giant socks against the far wall of the shoebox. What must have been early-morning sunlight shone dimly through the air holes, allowing her only enough light to discern shapes and faded colors. Her stomach twisted in disgust, humiliation, and anger as she studied the grooved, creased forms of Cameron’s discarded socks.

That bastard,” she whispered venomously to herself.

But she had no choice. Rising slowly to her feet, she trudged over to the socks, pulled the corner of the top one back, and climbed onto the one underneath. Then she squatted and proceeded to empty her bladder onto it. She hung her head and looked away in shame. When she was done, she hopped off the sock and placed the top sock firmly over the one she had urinated on. Feeling dirty inside and out, she walked back to the other side of the box.

An hour or so later, she heard and felt the giant teen boy moving around in his room.

Without warning, the lid of the box flew off and his face was there, with its pointed nose and chin. He leered down at her with his brown eyes glittering. His hand dropped into the box and grabbed her without a word. He lifted her up to his face. She grunted and struggled in his grip.

“Morning Tiffy,” he said. “I’m all dressed and ready to go. Time to get you registered and buy you a new place to sleep.”

She saw that he had indeed changed clothes, now wearing a black sports jersey and jean shorts. He stood up and walked toward his bedroom door, which waited like a rectangular, hollow mountain in the distance from Brianna’s perspective.
“It’s time to take me home!” Brianna shouted up at him. Now she had overcome her panic enough to be embarrassed and degraded by the sensation of his curled fingers touching the smooth skin of her nude body.

“Your home’s like a three hour drive away from here,” he said. “Besides, this is your home now, with me.”

“I have family and friends!” she screamed at him. “You can’t keep me!”

He ignored her.

She began twisting and wriggling in his fist, but to no avail.

He carried her through his house that appeared enormous and monstrous to Brianna, both because she was a Shrinky and because it was unfamiliar to her.

When he arrived at his front door, before opening it, his hand began lowering toward his waist. Brianna looked down and saw his free hand unzipping a pocket on his jean shorts. She
struggled more in his grasp, but he still brought her over his pocket and then dropped her inside.

As soon as her body struck the bottom of the pocket, he had zipped the top shut. She pounded against the side of the pocket for a few moments but finally gave up and curled into a ball, grinding her teeth and fuming in anger.

“First we’ll get you registered,” came Cameron’s voice from high above her.

The pocket swung into motion.

.......

Brianna stood on the cold white counter between Cameron and the young man who manned the Shrinky Registration window, shielding her breasts from view with one arm and covering her crotch with the other arm. She had heard of places like this before, but had never seen one or given them much thought. Now she shook with both apprehension and indignation. She could not believe she was about to be licensed like some animal. This city office was rather quiet this morning. Other people walked past on their way to or from other windows that did not deal with Shrinkies, but she did not see anyone else standing in line with Shrinkies to register.

“Put her on this scale,” the young man said. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with what Brianna considered a babyface, along with eyeglasses and long, shaggy brown hair. He slid a black, flat weight scale forward.
Cameron plucked Brianna off the counter and placed her on the scale. She stood there as the digital display on it registered her weight. The young city employee typed the information into a computer.

Seconds later a tape measure appeared in his hands and he held it up to her, measuring her height before setting the object down and entering her height into the computer as well.

Soon he had printed out a small license tag, which he handed to Cameron.

“All right, all done,” the young man said.

“Really?” Cameron asked.

Cameron’s hand held Brianna in place as he clipped the license onto her collar. She tried to fight him but he finished too quickly. She grabbed the tag and glared at it. On one side, what must have been Cameron’s name and address were engraved into it, above the date that the license expired. When she turned the tag over, the name “Tiffy” stared back up at her from the shiny metal surface. She threw the tag out of her hand, where it slapped against her chest and hung between her breasts like a demeaning locket.

Overcome with sudden rage, she stomped forward on the scale and raised her middle finger at the city worker.

“How can you do this to me?” she shrieked at him. “I’m a human being! I’m going to be my school’s valedictorian! I’m popular! You can’t put a tag around my neck like some kind of kitten!”

The young man turned to Cameron. “She’s still rather spirited. You might want to look into some obedience training.”

Brianna’s mouth fell open and she stared back and forth in shocked rage from one giant male to the other.

“I know. I’ve been reading up it for a while now,” Cameron replied.

“She’s got a nice ass. Mind if I play with it for a bit?” the city employee asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Cameron answered with a proud grin.

“What? No!”

The young man snatched her off the scale and rotated her around in his hand so that she faced away from him, pinning her arms to her sides and pressing her into the palm of the hand that held her by pushing two of his fingers from his free hand into the small of her back.
“No! Let me go!” she shrieked.

Then her butt, the butt she was so proud of took and such pleasure in taunting boys with, was touched by a man in his twenties against her will with two of his giant fingers, one finger to each butt cheek. Those fingers pushed firmly in on her buttocks and began grinding into them.

“Mmm yeah, she is a nice find,” the young man breathed.

“I know,” Cameron said.

Brianna felt her butt being kneaded and fondled by those giant fingertips.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” she cried, wriggling with all her might in his hand.

“She must be pretty athletic,” the young man commented. “This ass is toned and firm.””

She felt him pinch her buttocks together between his fingertips.

“You can’t do this to me! Stop right now!”

“Yeah, I think the shirt I tore off her after I first got her said something about a school dance team,” Cameron said.

“Is that a Shrinky girl?” a new voice asked.

Brianna’s head snapped up to stare in wide-eyed horror at yet another giant teenage boy. He was muscular and handsome, with blond hair and wearing a tank top. He stood next to Cameron but was gazing intently at her.

“I was just on my way out after getting my driver’s license, but man I’d like to play with her. She looks hot. Can I?” he asked Cameron.

“Sure,” Cameron said, folding his arms and obviously basking in the attention.

The city worker held his hand toward the new teenage boy, who appeared to be around Cameron’s age. Brianna may have thought he was attractive, but the fact that he was going to fondle her against her will overrode any excitement she may have felt.

“No way! I’m not some object to be passed around!” she cried.

The new teenage boy’s fingers wrapped around her and lifted her up to his face.

“Wow, holy perky tits Batman!”
“Don’t touch me there! No!”

He pinched and hefted her bare breasts between the forefinger and thumb of his free hand, grinding them against each other.

“How dare you! Stop! St--”

“And check out that ass! Damn!”

He flipped her around and held her in his hand exactly like the city employee had just done, and began squeezing and rubbing her butt cheeks.

“No! Stop! Stop!”

She flailed her legs and writhed with all her might, but she was helpless to stop him from groping and fondling her butt. He continued to do so for the next several minutes, while asking Cameron questions about where he found her, which Cameron gladly answered. The fact that Brianna was screaming for the boy to stop what he was doing during the entire conversation did not hinder their discussion at all.

Finally he handed her back to Cameron.

“Go to hell all of you!” she yelled, wriggling in Cameron’s fist.

“Feisty one, isn’t she?” the new teenage boy commented.

“Yeah,” Cameron agreed.

He sat her down on the counter.

“You know I didn’t want to say anything, but it’s kind of uncool to have a Shrinky resist so much like that. You need to train her better,” the teenage boy said to Cameron.

While the boy spoke, he extended his hand and, without even looking, as if doing it absently, began stroking the tips of Brianna’s breasts.

Brianna squawked and backed away, but Cameron’s hand came up behind her and held her in place. She looked up at him and saw that he was frowning down at her.

“Be a good Shrinky and hold still,” Cameron said firmly, wagging his other index finger at her.

The other teenage boy’s forefinger and middle finger pushed into her breasts again and began fondling them in earnest.
“Yeah, I want to feel your tits so hold still,” the boy said in a tone of utter seriousness.

Brianna grabbed onto one of his fingers with each of her hands and tried to pry them off her chest, grunting and squealing wordlessly.

“Can I play with her ass again?” the young city employee asked.

“Sure,” Cameron said, withdrawing his hand.

Another set of fingers swooped in and began rubbing and tweaking Brianna’s butt cheeks again.

She screamed and fought with both giant hands, but it was hopeless. All her athleticism meant nothing against unshrunken people, a fact she had never been forced to face before yesterday. Cameron watched with a neutral expression as the teenage boy and twenty-something man molested Brianna’s breasts and butt.

She saw other people pass by the desk, but none appeared interested in her cries or her struggles.

.......

“It fits perfectly in here!” Cameron said happily.

He held Brianna in his fist. The nightmare at the city office had ended hours ago, but a new one seemed about to start for the Shrinky girl. The clear plastic cage he had bought her was wedged securely into a corner of his bedroom floor. Brianna felt revulsion and yet more anger as she studied it again. Two thimble-sized metal dishes sat securely in holes in the center of the cage. Those did not make Brianna as queasy as the cage’s two other main features, and she did not know which amenity sickened her more. A depressed trough ran along one side of the cage,

a trough that Cameron had dutifully filled with cat litter. This trough was meant, of course, as Brianna’s bathroom, a litter box inside her cage. Against the other wall of the cage, an orange hamster wheel was secured in place. Brianna looked back and forth from the hamster wheel to the litter box like she had done with the two male giants earlier, appalled, shocked, and enraged.

“I mean it, I am not living in there,” Brianna said emphatically.

Cameron held her in front of his face. “Oh yes you are. I just spent a lot of money on this. It’s all for you, my little pet.”

He knelt next to the cage and opened the lid, which at the moment was not secured shut by its latches. He placed Brianna inside.

“Now I want to see you run on the wheel. Plus it will be good exercise for you,” he said. “Go on.”

She whirled around and bared her teeth at him. “No fucking way.”

He glowered down at her, clenching his fist in frustration. Without warning he grabbed her in his hand, swung her through the air and shoved her inside the hamster wheel. The next thing she knew, he had jabbed a button on the wheel’s stand and the wheel began to turn.

“What? No! I said ‘no!’” she yelled in alarm.

But the wheel was turning faster and faster and she had no time to jump out. She was forced to run with all her strength or be thrown up against the top of the wheel and out. It was like running on a treadmill at the highest setting, but without a safety key and with the treadmill looping up and behind her. There was no escape. Her tag jingled as it struck her chest repeatedly. She continued to run, grateful for all the cardio exercises she had done for her dance team.

She looked desperately up at Cameron, who was lying on his side next to the cage with an arm propping up his head, his elbow digging into the carpet.

“Turn it off!” she shouted at him.

Her voice echoed dully back to her from off the cage wall.

“It’s the automatic setting,” Cameron said, his voice somewhat muffled by the wall. “Cool, huh? That’s why I had to pay extra for this cage. It’s also why I had to buy it from an unlicensed
pet supply shop. The government claims automatic hamster wheels are too dangerous for Shrinkies.” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I figure for a girl as in-shape as you, this should be no problem. And,” he leaned closer to the wall and glared at her, “this will motivate you to run on the wheel on your own when I say so.”

He lifted his arm over the cage wall and pressed the button on the hamster wheel. The wheel’s motor died and it slowly lost momentum. Brianna stood panting when it finally came to a standstill.

“I hate you, you monster!” she yelled at him.

“Will you run for me, or not?” he demanded.

Fuming through her nostrils at him, she turned and began to run again. This time the wheel responded to the force she exerted against it, spinning squeakily beneath her.

“Faster,” Cameron ordered. “Faster.”

Brianna obeyed, humiliated to realize that she was running in a hamster wheel like some gerbil.
Cameron shifted his position next to the cage and studied her as she ran, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“I like the way your cute little budonkadonk flexes as you run,” he observed, “and how your boobies jiggle.”

Brianna felt her cheeks redden. “You are a perv and a bully!” she snarled at him between labored breaths.

Suddenly his hand flew over the cage wall again and splayed over the wheel, halting its movement immediately. Brianna’s body bashed into the inner portion of the wheel in front of her and she fell onto her bottom. She was still shaking her head in a daze when Cameron’s hand hauled her out of the wheel and rapidly out of the cage.

He held her there, suspended over the cage, and poked her roughly in the stomach with a finger from his free hand.

“No, I’m your owner, and you’d better learn your place,” Cameron said sternly. “Tomorrow we’re going to start training you.”

“You can’t train me! I’m not a--”

“Listen, little hussy!” he growled, jerking her even closer to his face. “I’ve been patient with you today. I thought you’d figure out by now that you don’t have rights because you’re a Shrinky, but I see you’re too stubborn for that.” Spittle flew from his face as he berated her. “You need to be punished.”

“Punished? “Wha--”

He flattened her face-down into his palm as the other giants had done earlier that day, pinning her arms to her sides and holding her in place. She struggled, confused, expecting him to start fondling her butt.

Instead, she received a sudden, painful smack on her rear end with his forefinger and middle finger from his free hand.

Smack!

“Ow!” she cried. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you a spanking. You’ve been defiant all day today. They may put up with that in the liberal town you used to live in, but people around here don’t.”

Smack!

She yelped wordlessly at the sharp, stinging pain inflicted by his fingers. She glanced over her shoulder behind her as well as she could and saw that he was holding his forefinger and middle finger close together. Even as she watched he whipped them downward again and slapped her bottom another time.

Smack!

“Stop!” she screamed, flailing her legs. Her butt was beginning to sting awfully, as if the supple skin was on fire. “Don’t do this to me!”

Smack!

“You need...”

Smack!

“...to learn...”

Smack!

“...your place, Tiffy.”

Smack!

“No!” she wailed. “My name’s Brianna!

Smack!

“It’s Tiffy!” Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Stop it!” she howled.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Finally he tossed her into the cage again. She crawled away from him on her stomach, shuddering in physical shock while her entire body shook from the burning pain on her bottom. In fact she was in too much pain to stand up, let alone sit down. She lay there on her stomach, feeling like an abused worm, and clawed at the plastic floor while she gritted her teeth and winced from the sting brought on by the giant teen boy’s spanking.

Spanking. He just spanked me! she thought in revulsion and self-reproach. I’m an honor roll student and star athlete and he just spanked me!
“Stop mouthing off and fighting me,” Cameron ordered. “Now, I’m going to go hang out with some friends. When I get home tonight, you better be acting more like my pet.”

He closed the lid of the cage and snapped the latches in place. His heavy feet stomped out of the room, but not before he switched off the bedroom light and slammed the door, leaving only the rays of the setting sun that streamed through the window to illuminate the room.

Thin slits in a grid pattern in the center of the cage lid let air in. Lying on her side on the floor of the cage with her bottom pointed in the air in fiery pain, between a hamster wheel and litter box that were both meant for her, Breanna stared up through those slits at the room’s ceiling while tears began to blur her vision. For the first time in a long time, she hung her head and sobbed uncontrollably. The only other sound she could hear was the steady ticking of a clock buried somewhere beneath a pile of Cameron’s laundry as the minutes, then hours, passed slowly by.

AB23
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Re: Breaking Brianna

Post by AB23 » Sat Oct 31, 2020 3:13 am

Part 2;

She was awoken from a feverish, nightmarish sleep by Cameron’s voice echoing thinly and dully through the plastic cage wall. Even the somewhat muted tone of his voice was enough to send her eyes popping open and her heart pumping anxiously. Moments later her mind registered that he was humming the tune to “Oh What a Beautiful Morning.” Her stomach roiled in disgust. She sat up, hearing and feeling again the annoying jingling of her tag against her chest.

The bedroom light blinked on, momentarily blinding her.

Two giant, bare teenage boy feet thudded heavily down in front of the cage. Brianna craned her neck backward to see that Cameron was dressed only in his boxers, most of his lean, tan, toned body on full display. She hated the instant sexual attraction that rose inside her at the sight before she could stifle it.

He unlatched the lid to her cage and opened it. He crouched in front of the cage, causing his manhood to be outlined clearly by the front of his boxer shorts as they were pulled tightly around his crotch. She looked away from it quickly.

“Good Sunday morning Tiffy,” he said. “Time for breakfast.”

She started to swear at him and tell him that she was not named Tiffy no matter what he said, but then she remembered the painful spanking from last night and clamped her mouth shut over that retort.

He lowered his hand into the cage holding a glass bottle, which he titled forward, pouring out some substance into one of the thimble­shaped dishes set in the center of the cage floor. That substance looked like faded­brown cocoa puff breakfast cereal to her. His other hand dropped in and poured water from a water bottle into the other dish. Water splashed all over the place before he lifted the bottle upward again, including into the pebbly food.
He shut the lid and stood. His giant, towering form strutted out of the room with thundering footsteps. She heard the bedroom door close and lock behind him.

Cautiously she crawled over to the dishes. She cupped her hands and dipped them into the water, eagerly lapping it up into her dry mouth. After that she stared suspiciously at the brown pebbles, drying her hands off on her hips. She picked one of the pebbles up between her fingers and popped it into her mouth. It tasted sweet and salty, like chocolate and peanut butter, but its soggy texture thanks to the water Cameron had spilled on it dulled its taste. Frowning in disappointment, she scooped the rest into her mouth one handful at a time, filling her empty stomach with relish.

Thumping footfalls signaled Cameron’s return. She saw that he still wore only a pair of boxers. He crouched in front of the cage again and opened the lid.

“Now it’s time for your training,” he said to her.

“Is that all you're going to wear for my ‘training?’” she asked instead, grimacing in contempt.

He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’m your owner. I can wear as much or as little as I want. Now, let’s get going.”

His hand dove into the cage, fingers outstretched.

“No!” Brianna screamed.

But those fingers wrapped around her and hoisted her out of the cage. She wriggled in his fist as he stood, sending her stomach reeling. He walked over to his weight bench and sat her on it. His knees thudded against the floor as he knelt in front of the bench. Now that she was out of the cage, she found that she was more acutely aware of her nakedness again. One arm hugged her breasts while the other slipped between her thighs. Her nostrils flared at the queasy scent of dried boy sweat that the bench gave off.

His eyes flicked to and fro in their sockets as he studied her.

“All right, first of all,” he said, wagging his giant forefinger at her, “none of that anymore. I got you naked for a reason. I want to see your body all the time, whenever I want. No more covering up.”

She glared venomously at him and kept her arms where they were. She had no intention of doing every little thing he said, no matter what his plans for her were.

Until he uttered his next sentence:

“Is it time for another spanking, Tiffy?”

Fuming at him and at herself for being afraid, she slowly moved her arms to her sides.

He smiled in smug approval. “That’s better.”

He sat back, still kneeling, and folded his arms.

“Let’s start by practicing some basic commands,” he said.

He held his hand out, palm up, in front of the weight bench, fingers touching the side.

“Tiffy, come,” he ordered.

“My name’s not­­” she started to argue before thinking.

In a flash that open hand flew up and pinched her left buttock between forefinger and thumb, squeezing viscously. She shrieked in pain. Worse, his face did not show any anger this time, just calm, smug, superior patience. He pinched her butt cheek so sharply that she felt like he was going to rip it off. Just as quickly his hand returned to its former position in front of her, level with the bench. She rubbed her stinging butt cheek and stared at him in anger and shock.

“Tiffy, come,” he repeated.

Fist balled at her sides, heart racing in fright and rage, she found her feet refusing to obey, remaining exactly where they were while she looked down at his hand stubbornly.

In the time it took her to blink he whisked her off the bench and flattened her out in his other hand, pinning her arms to her sides with the fingers from that hand.

“No! Please no!” she screamed when she realized this was happening again.

Smack! His forefinger and middle finger from his other hand whipped down and struck her exposed rear end.

“When I tell you to come, you come,” he said calmly.

Smack! Smack!

“Stop! Stop! I’m sorry, okay?”

Smack!

“No!” she wailed. “I said I was sorr­­”

Smack! Smack!

She shrieked into his hand, quivering and writhing helplessly at the burning sensation blazing on her butt.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“God!” she cried, tears seeping out of her eyes.

Then it was over and he was setting her back on the bench. She stood and hugged herself, trembling in shock and pain, then remembered his warning about covering herself and quickly held her arms at her sides again. She stared at him through teary eyes, hating him, hating that patient, fatherly expression on his boyish face, and most of all hating herself for fearing him.

She yelped when his giant fingers were suddenly in her face, plucking the tag that hung from her collar and holding it up.

“Take it,” he instructed.

Confused, suspicious, she pulled the tag off his fingertips.

“What name is written on that?” he asked.

She read it, but of course she already knew the answer. She said nothing.

“I said, what name is written on your tag?” he pressed in a tone that warned of waning patience.

“Tiffy,” she mumbled.

“What? I can’t hear you?”

“Tiffy!” she shouted in rage.

“That’s right. Remember that.”

His hand returned palm up to the side of the bench.

“Tiffy, come.”

Breathing fast and loud, on the verge of hyperventilating, she released the tag and stepped into his hand.
“Good girl,” he chimed in a falsetto, baby­talk voice.

She turned away from him and gritted her teeth so hard her jaw ached.

“Now, Tiffy, sit.”

Huffing, she sat down, but her butt stung horribly as soon as it touched his palm, so she knelt instead, leaning forward slightly onto her hands so that her butt did not touch her feet, shaking from the burning sensations emanating from her rear.

“Good girl,” he repeated.

His free hand swooped out and began petting her head with its forefinger, stroking her dark hair and rubbing her shoulders. She tried to pull away from him but there was nowhere to go.

“If you start obeying, I won’t have to keep hurting that spectacular ass of yours,” he said, his huge face splitting into a cocky grin.

She glared at him, hatred coursing through her, but her fear of another spanking kept her quiet.

Minutes later he lowered his hand to the floor. His free hand plucked her off his palm and placed her on the carpet. He lowered himself onto his hands and knees and caused her to chirp and flinch in surprise when one of his giant hands thumped the floor next to her.

“Tiffy, do a cartwheel,” he said.

“What?” she asked incredulously.

“Come on, I can tell from that body that you must have been a cheerleader or dancer or something. I know you can do this easily. Do a cartwheel.”

Fuming silently, she raised her arms high, sprinted diagonally past him, and dropped into a cartwheel, flipping past one of his hands that lay splayed out on the floor.

“Good girl,” he praised, which only made her angrier. “Again.”

She lifted her arms up again, turned, and dashed away from him. She cartwheeled twice, stood and raised her arms for show, then cartwheeled three more times.

“Good girl!” he called, clapping.

When her feet landed on the carpet the third time she stood just outside of his reach. Heart racing, she flipped three more cartwheels and then promptly bolted headlong across the floor.

“Hey, stop!” he shouted angrily. “Tiffy, heel!” he commanded.

She ignored him. With all her strength she sped over the carpet, aiming for the monolithic form of his bedroom door. It was only open a crack, but for a Shrinky that was as wide as a doorway. Thunderous vibrations and thudding behind her told her that he was chasing her and her heart rate soared even higher.

She was almost to the door when something slammed into her and scraped her back, sending her tumbling to the side. She rolled over and over. As soon as she could she leapt to her feet and sprang forward but by then it was too late. A giant hand closed around her and lifted her swiftly off the floor. She struggled and kicked in Cameron’s grip as she was brought up and up, past his legs, stomach, and chest, up to his furious, frowning face.

“What is wrong with you?” he demanded. “Don’t you know this training is for your own good? Shrinkies are meant to be pets. They’re safer and happier and fit in better with society.”

“You are full of crap!” she screamed at him.

“How many times do I have to punish you?”

Terror caused her to writhe even more, already feeling the lashes against her butt in her mind’s eye.

He pressed her facedown into his palm, and those lashes deed indeed come, administered by his giant forefinger and middle finger.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“No!” she wailed, her bottom still freshly sore and tender from the last spanking.

“Bad girl!” he scolded.

Smack! Smack!

“Don’t…” Smack! “...mis­­...” Smack! “..behave!” Smack!

“Stop it leave me alone!” she shrieked through her tears.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“That’s all your little ass can take for now, or I’d punish you some more,” he said, and she was both surprised and sickened to detect a hint of concern in his voice, concern that she knew must
have come more from damaging his pet than from any pain he was causing her.

He carried her back to her cage and laid her inside it, latching the lid shut.

“We’ll do more training after lunch,” he informed her.

His giant feet thumped around the room as he dressed himself, then out of earshot when he left his room. She heard the door shut and lock behind him again.

She lay where he had placed her, sobbing, weeping, growling, and pounding the floor in frustrated despair. She knew she could not handle another spanking, she simply could not.

……….

“Tiffy, sit,” Cameron ordered.

She did, seating herself cross­legged on the rough cement of his backyard patio. Bright afternoon sunlight shone all around her and warmed her bare skin.

“Good girl. Now, Tiffy, roll over.”

She did, grunting as her skin scraped against the cement.

“Tiffy, cartwheel.”

This she did also, hands over feet, past one of the giant teenage boy’s huge bare legs and his warehouse­sized dirt­smeared sneaker.

“Good girl! Much better than this morning,” he praised.

Her stomach became queasy with hatred and disgust for her own weakness. She lowered her head in sadness. This younger teen boy was breaking her, and she knew it.

“Tiffy, come.”

She walked slowly over to him, avoiding looking at his smugly pleased face.

He ran through his list of commands again, all of which she performed.

“Very, very good,” he praised when she was done, clapping his hands.

She looked away from him, balling her hands into fists at her sides.

“Now, Tiffy, stick out your ass.”
Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at him. “What?”

“Do it,” he ordered. “Tiffy, stick out your ass.”

“I..what? No­­”

“Do it!” he warned, shaking his finger at her.

Tensing, gritting her teeth, furious and humiliated, she leaned forward and down with her hands on her hips and jutted her rear end out.

“Mmm, good girl,” he said. “Yeah.”

Giant fingers were suddenly petting her butt. She chirped wordlessly and sidestepped away.

“Don’t! It’s still sore!” she protested.

At first Cameron seemed ready to argue with her, but his expression quickly melted into a resigned frown.

“All right, fine,” he said. “Next, Tiffy, stick out your boobs.”

She stared at him, shaking with rage and shame, but found herself once again obeying out of fear. She raised her arms high, craned her head backward, and thrust her chest toward him.

Predictably his forefinger and thumb immediately began petting and squeezing her breasts. She flinched and stepped away from his hand.

“No, Tiffy, stay,” he ordered.

Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she complied, and his fingers resumed their fondling.

“I think your boobs are just about the perfect size and shape,” he commented.

Brianna’s cheeks flushed red with anger and humiliation that a boy two years younger than her was commenting on her body so callously and violating her and she could do nothing about it. She was indeed becoming his pet.

Suddenly he wrapped his fingers around her.

“Now, time to get you some more exercise,” he said.

………..

Just as she feared, he carried her back to his room and ordered her onto the hamster wheel
again.

The wheel squealed and rattled as she ran, and she was all too aware of Cameron’s giant face peering at her through the plastic wall of her cage, his eyes alternating between leering at her bouncing breasts and churning legs and butt. Ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty. Now she was sweating, her breasts aching from bouncing without support despite their smallish size compared with the rest of her body.

“Please,” she said, and hated herself for asking instead of simply doing as she wished, “I need to rest.”

“Nope, not yet,” he replied curtly. “Keep running.”

She growled at him and bared her teeth. “Cameron…”

“Keep running Tiffy!” he snapped.

Panting, gasping for breath, she continued to run in place on the wheel. Her hands drifted up to her chest where she cupped her breasts to support them as she ran.

“No, stop,” he ordered immediately. “I like watching them bounce.”

“But it hurts­­”

“Tiffy, don’t argue with me.”

Closing her eyes in fury and degradation, she lowered her hands and allowed her breasts to continue to shake wave freely.

……….

That night, as she lay on the floor of her cage in darkness, she longed for a hot shower followed by a comfortable bed. Her skin was sticky and smelly with sweat and her hair clung to her scalp and neck, and the floor of the cage was hard and unyielding, like sleeping on concrete.

The salty taste of the pebbly food from her evening feeding was still fresh in her mouth, as were the memories of Cameron putting her through another series of the same commands from that afternoon.

Somehow, someway, she managed to fall asleep. She was so exhausted by her ordeals from that day that she slept soundly and almost dreamlessly until…

“Tiffy, sit.”

Without thinking she hopped up and seated herself as Cameron had instructed her numerous
times during her training the day before, kneeling on the floor with her hands folded meekly across her hips and her butt resting on her feet. She had not been able to accomplish the last move yesterday because her bottom had been so sore from repeated spankings, but she managed it today with little pain. She looked up and saw that the cage lid was open and that Cameron was staring down at her with a neutral expression on his face. Only then did it dawn on her that she had leapt to obey his command without thinking. She wrung her hands until her wrists hurt.

It hasn’t even been three days and I’m already breaking beneath his ‘training!’ she fumed to herself.

“I’m going to school,” he said to her. “Here.”

He lowered his hand into the cage and dropped a blue­green ball the size of her fist onto the cage floor next to her. She stared at it curiously, noting that its texture resembled soap and that it even gave off a pleasant, soapy scent.

“That’s some deodorant for you,” he stated.

He turned away for several moments before his body swung around again and he poured more food into her food dish. Almost in the blink of an eye the lid was shut again and he was walking out of the room, shaking the floor beneath Brianna with each step.

She was relieved that she would be free of him for most of the day at least, and she eagerly picked up the ball of deodorant and rubbed it where she needed it, inhaling the pleasant scent gratefully.

But when she was done she was still greased with dried sweat from the day before. Worse, dirty socks and even discarded underwear pressed against the wall of her cage, dropped their or shoved their sometime yesterday or this morning. These were merely fragments of mounds of dirty laundry strewn across the bedroom floor, a sight that made her even more repulsed and sickened than she already was. Her nausea was only made worse by the moist, acrid odor from the dirty laundry that drifted down through the air slits in the cage roof. Even her deodorant ball could not entirely drive that smell away. She would never had lived in such filth before being kidnapped by this boy, but now here she was, once more helpless to do anything.

The hours of the day ticked slowly by. At first she continued to be glad to be rid of Cameron for awhile. But gradually the time in her cage became less a relief and more of a bore, a bore that became more and more dreadful by the hour. She lay face­up, studying the grid­pattern slits on the cage roof. Then she sat in a corner of the cage with her back against the wall and stared across the nearly empty space. Then she lay on her back again. Then she walked aimlessly through the cage, steering far away from the litter trough and her bodily waste that she knew was buried beneath the litter in it. However, eventually she had to make use of the trough again and
cover up what she left behind with more litter. She lowered her head into her hands and cried the second time she finished doing this, hating the fact that she was becoming nothing more than some kind of pet gerbil for a teenage boy. Slowly, so slowly, the hours passed, her thoughts filled with longing for home, hatred for Cameron and his treatment of her and for herself and her weakness to resist him, and always the boredom.

Finally she heard and felt giant footfalls approaching the room. She glanced at the digital alarm clock that lay on the floor beside the head of Cameron’s bed and saw that it was three o’clock. The lock on the bedroom door clicked and rattled and the door itself swung open. In walked Cameron, scratching himself and carrying a backpack on one shoulder. He dropped the backpack to the floor with a deafening bang. Brianna flinched at the noise and her muscles continued to tense up as she watched him striding directly toward her cage without pausing anywhere else in the room. Suddenly the boredom of her long day alone did not seem so bad.

He wasted no time in unlatching the cage roof and leaning inside. His fingers wrapped around her and lifted her out. She wriggled weakly in his fist instinctively.

She expected him to place her on the floor and start shouting commands at her, but instead he merely sat down and stared down at her. Her blood felt like it was turning to ice when she saw the look in his eyes, a hungry, lustful expression that was both intensely scrutinizing and far away at the same time. Movement in the corner of her vision caught her attention and she looked down to see his free hand fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“What are you doing?” she demanded worriedly.

“Saw...a hot girl...at school…” he murmured.

She heard the zipper being lowered rapidly.

“Asked her out...she said no...so hot…” he said, his eyes flicking up and down as they both studied Brianna’s body and stared off into space.

To Brianna’s horror, he began lowering her toward his crotch with its open zipper, while his free hand dug inside that zipper. She knew exactly what he was digging for.

“No!” she screamed, struggling in his fist as the fingers of it spread open and pinned her arms to her sides. “No!”

“Need…release...she was so hot…”

“No!” she wailed, long and shrill.

For the next several minutes the room was filled with her wordless screams and Cameron’s
pants and moans of pleasure.

……….

He left her to her boredom again that evening, her skin sticky again but not with sweat. She gagged again at the musky, potent smell left over from the white fluid that had coated the front of her body. She hung her head and wept again.

When he returned late that night he took her out of her cage and ran her through another training drill. She obeyed perfectly and without question, to her enraged sorrow and his satisfaction.

………

The week passed slowly by. Brianna spent most of her time in her cage, bored out of her mind, unwashed, and constantly assaulted by the odor from Cameron’s dirty laundry that surrounded her cage.

For exercise he forced her to run on her wheel and every day without fail he reviewed his training commands with her. Often he would order her to stick her butt or breasts out for fondling outside of her training sessions. She loathed the contented smirk he often wore when he groped and pinched her breasts.

Her only consolation was that he changed her litter box regularly and gave her a fresh deodorant ball every few days, and fed and watered her regularly of course. But by the end of the week she felt exactly like the helpless gerbil she knew she had begun to resemble at the start. Worse, she also knew that at any moment she would be used to satisfy Cameron’s male urges if he required it. She shuddered and hugged herself every time she remembered that fact.

……….

On Brianna’s second Saturday as his captive, Cameron took her to the Shrinky vet.

“Tiffy, sit,” Cameron ordered when a young girl who must have been a veterinary assistant walked into the examination room.

Brianna would much rather have remained standing with her arms shielding her modesty but she obeyed, seating herself in a kneeling position with her hands on her hips.

She could hear her own heartbeat racing as the young girl, probably in her early twenties, walked across the room with its gleaming white walls and ceiling to where Brianna sat on the equally gleaming white examination table.

“Well hello,” said the vet assistant in baby talk, lowering her head and smiling extra sweetly at Brianna. She brushed several strands of blond hair out of her pretty face. “And who do we have here?”

“Her name’s Tiffy,” Cameron answered from where he sat on a stool next to the table. “I got her last week.”
“Oh, she’s so cute,” cooed the assistant, “and very pretty!”

The young woman stroked the top of Brianna’s head. “Hello Tiffy!”

Brianna wanted to shout that her name was Brianna, not Tiffy, that Cameron had kidnapped her against her will, that she hated being his pet and wanted to go home with her family, and that she deserved to be treated like a human being instead of some unintelligent pet. But her fear of disappointing Cameron, firmly instilled in her over her week of training, kept her from opening her mouth. Beyond that, doubt filled her mind when she admitted to herself that she was his pet now, no matter how much she wished she was not.

“Let’s get you weighed and give you a quick check up before the vet gets here,” said the vet assistant.

One of her giant hands pushed an equally large scale across the examination table toward Brianna.

“Hop on,” the assistant instructed.

Brianna stood and complied, stepping gingerly onto the scale. She watched her weight flash onto the digital screen attached to the scale. Seeing her weight displayed in ounces instead of pounds was one aspect of being a Shrinky that she still had not gotten used to.

“Very good,” said the assistant. She stepped over to the room’s computer and typed some information on the keyboard. Turning back to the table and Brianna she said, “Now, let’s do a quick check up.”

The assistant stepped over to the table once more, and the next thing Brianna knew giant fingers lifted her off the scale, placed her squarely in front of the college­age girl, and began poking and prodding her. Brianna chirped indignantly when her butt was pried momentarily open and a fingernail slipped briefly inside, and she began squirming and grunting when the assistants thumbs began rubbing and kneading Brianna’s breasts.

“Tiffy, stay,” Cameron ordered sternly from his corner of the room.

Brianna clenched her teeth and ceased most of her struggles, but she could still feel the heat radiating off her reddening face.

After making more notes on the computer the assistant left the room, leaving Cameron and Brianna alone to wait for the veterinarian. Brianna folded her arms and stared sulkily and angrily down at her feet, still indignant to even be visiting a vet’s office in the first place. As far as she was concerned vet clinics were still for animals only, not Shrinkies as well. Many people in her home state would agree with her, but Cameron had forcibly taken her to a state where the laws
and opinions were much different.

Cameron spent the waiting time playing some game on his phone. Brianna had nothing on the table to occupy her time so she sat on the edge of the scale, rested her chin in her hands, and stared at the table’s surface, lost in thoughts of home and murderous thoughts of Cameron.

When the vet entered Brianna was relieved that she at least was female also, but when she stood next to the table and looked down at Brianna with confident, analyzing eyes behind her eyeglasses, Brianna decided that she was not comfortable around this thirty­something woman. Her brown hair was held behind her head in a ponytail. Her face was more handsome than pretty and wore an expression of detached kindness, as if she intended no ill will to Brianna but did not see her as anything close to human.

That assessment of the vet’s disposition turned out to be true, Brianna soon discovered the hard way. After listening to Brianna’s heartbeat with a giant stethoscope the woman proceeded to examine Brianna’s breasts even more thoroughly than the assistant had, grinding her thumbs into them and squeezing them together to form cleavage than even the best push­up bra could not produce.

“Stop it,” Brianna grumbled loudly, twisting against the grip of the woman.

“There, there, it’s all right,” said the vet in a sweet tone that lacked sincerity.

“Tiffy, stay,” Cameron ordered again.

Brianna’s hands curled into fists and she looked away from both the giant vet and Cameron, staring in fury and humiliation at the tabletop while her body continued to be jostled and shaken by the giant woman’s intense fondling.

When the vet’s physical examination was finally over she produced a bottle of orange pills from one of the drawers in the room. She emptied two pills into her hand and replaced the bottle in the drawer. Moments later she was offering those pills at Brianna’s face with her forefinger and middle finger extended, one pill on each.

“Eat these little one,” the vet said. Turning to Cameron, she added, “These are pills that were designed a few years ago for Shrinky females. They will stop her from having her periods.” Brianna’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She could not believe what she was hearing. “It removes the need for messy cleanups and prevents unwanted breeding.”

“Oh, okay,” Cameron said with a shrug.

“Excuse me!” Brianna piped up. “I’m right here! Don’t I have a say in this?”
The vet smiled with sugary sweet condescension at her. “That’s up to your owner. But do you really still want to…well, you know?” The vet gave her own shrug.

“Ah whatever,” Brianna murmured.

She grabbed both of the pills in one hand, (each was the size of a large grape), and popped them into her mouth. They tasted horrible as she chewed them and her face wrinkled up in revulsion as she gagged on the last few swallows.

“I’ll write you a prescription for her,” the vet said to Cameron.

“Sure. My mom’s paying for all of this anyway. She likes that I’m training this Shrinky. She had no owner before I found her.” he replied.

“That is very kind of you,” the vet praised with a smile. “But you should bathe her more often. She’s a little on the smelly side.” She winked playfully at him.

“Uh yeah, sure thing. You know how dirty strays can get,” Cameron stammered.

“Don’t worry about it. I do indeed,” said the vet.

Brianna’s whole body was shaking in silent, helpless wrath.

……….

Three weeks later Cameron returned home from school one day with two friends.

Brianna backed fearfully away from Cameron’s hand when he reached into the cage for her, eyeing the two leering teenage boys behind him.

“Tiffy, come,” he snapped at her.

He lifted her out of the cage and placed her on the floor. The three boys sat in a circle around her, all of them wearing shorts, their bare, crossed legs forming a fleshy wall on all sides.

“She’s a hot little Shrinky,” observed one Cameron’s friends, a skinny blond boy.

“Yeah, look how fit that body is,” said the other boy, a brunette with a build as athletic as Cameron’s.

“You think she’s hot huh? Well check this out,” said Cameron. “Tiffy, dance.”

It was one of the newer commands he had taught her, just after beginning to bathe her regularly. It was during the second of those forced baths, while he was lathering soap on her butt as she struggled, that he commented on how he wanted to see her dance for him. So a few hours later
he was training her to do just that.

But now, standing in front of two other horny teenage boys, the last thing Brianna wanted to do was dance provocatively. Some of her old stubbornness battled its way to the surface and she folded her arms and frowned up at Cameron.

“No,” she said.

“Tiffy, dance!” Cameron growled.

“No,” she repeated. “I don’t want to.”

“Wow, she’s not very obedient is she,” said the blond boy.

Cameron eyed his friends sheepishly, then stared down at Brianna angrily. “Tiffy, dance, now!”

She turned away from him, refusing to objectify herself for his friends’ amusement.

Suddenly he snatched her off the floor. Within seconds she was rushing toward the open palm of his other hand. He pressed her facedown and pinned her arms to her sides with the hand she lay in.

“No! No!” she screamed, for she knew what was happening.

Smack!

“Bad girl,” Cameron’s voice lectured.

Smack! His fingers from his other hand whipped down on her exposed butt again.

“Stop, please! I’m sorry!” she wailed.

Smack!

“Bad girl.”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“No!” she shrieked.

“Nice, show her who’s boss,” she heard Cameron’s dark­haired friend say.

“Let me try it!” said the blond boy eagerly. “I want a turn!”

“Uh, no,” Cameron said. “I’m the only one who gets to punish her.”

Through her tears, Brianna was surprised by the protective tone of his voice.

“What? That’s lame,” complained his blond friend.

“No it’s not,” Cameron argued. “So far I’ve loaned you my playstation, my bike, my mp3 player, and my paintball gun, and you’ve broken them all. I don’t want you to break my new pet too.”

“Ah,” the blond boy moaned unhappily.

Brianna sniffled, regretting feeling even the slightest hope that Cameron was concerned about her well being. She could see that he simply did not want his new toy damaged.

“Then can I­­” began the other teenage boy.

“Look, I’m the only one who disciplines her, okay?” Cameron questioned grumpily.

Smack! Smack!

“Stop it! I’m sorry, okay?” she screamed.

Smack!

“No!”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

In a blur, she found herself standing on the carpet between the boys again, her rear end feeling afire. She touched it gingerly but flinched and quickly pulled her hands away.

“Tiffy,” Cameron’s voice came warningly.

She looked up and over her shoulder at him.

“Tiffy, dance,” he ordered, shaking his forefinger at her.

And she did. Despite the burning of her spanked bottom she shimmied and spun, thrusting out her chest seductively or wagging her bottom out this way or that. At one point, as he had when training her to dance for him, Cameron even placed a pencil in front of her and held it in place so she could dance around it like it was a stripper pole.
Cameron may have prevented his friends from spanking Brianna but he did not stop them from sticking out there hands periodically during her dance and groping her body. The blond boy kept pinching and petting her butt, causing her to squeal in indignant pain, while the dark­haired teen was fascinated by her breasts, tweaking and groping them between his forefinger and thumb.
The first time he did this she slapped at his fingers and tried to pull away, but Cameron would have none of that:

“No, let him touch your boobs,” he commanded.

Brianna, spanked into submission, complied.

“Mmm yeah, nice tits. I love her,” the brunette boy commented.

And on Brianna danced.

……….

Jacob had just finished putting away the last of the chess games when he heard the door of the classroom open. He turned around, confused, not expecting any of the chess club members to be returning anytime soon since they all had classes on the other side of the campus. But it was not a chess club member that stood in the doorway. Instead, a tall, athletically built teenage boy that must have been a couple years younger than Jacob strutted into the classroom, shutting the door behind him with a flourish. He was handsome, Jacob had to admit, with his his somewhat slender but still athletic build, his broad shoulders, his defined adam’s apple, and his chin and nose with exactly the right amount of pronouncement. His eyes seemed to twinkle with pride as he walked toward Jacob. He held a small, yellow pet carrier in his hands and when he stood in front of Jacob he placed the carrier on the short table next to the stack of chess games.

“You must be Jacob,” said the boy.

“Uh yeah,” he answered, glancing curiously from the carrier to the boy. “Who are you?”

“I’m Cameron Oaks, duh!” the boy said.

“Who?”

“Haven’t you been watching the news at all?” questioned the younger teen.

“Uh, actually no,” Jacob admitted.

“But you know how the local legislature is now fiercely debating getting rid of the pro Shrinky laws in this state, right?” Cameron pressed.

Jacob nodded.
“Well I’m the reason they are, man!” he said proudly, pounding on his chest with his right fist. “I took my reformed Shrinky into the state capital and had her give a speech to the legislature. She told them how much better off she was as a domesticated Shrinky.”

“Okay.” Jacob did recall hearing something about that, now that this boy mentioned it. “So, I mean that’s cool and all, but what do you want with me?”

“I’m taking a victory lap before heading back home,” the boy, Cameron, stated. “I came here to visit my cousin and to show off my newly trained Shrinky, and to try to change some things in this liberal state. I’m making my Shrinky apologize to all her old acquaintances and family for acting like she had rights.”

And family? Jacob thought to himself in surprise. Impressive.

“And, drum roll please,” Cameron sang. He bent down, popped up the latch on the pet carrier door, and swung it wide open. “I present to you, Tiffy!”

After what this Cameron kid had said, Jacob expected a female Shrinky to walk out of the carrier, but he did not expect it to be a nude Brianna with a collar and tag around her neck.

“Brianna?” he exclaimed in disbelief, bending down to stare closely at her. “Is that really you?”

“Yes,” she said meekly, lowering her head.

It certainly looked like her but Jacob could never imagine Brianna acting so timid, let alone being nude and wearing a collar. But there she was, in all her naked glory. Jacob took a moment to study her sexy body appreciatively.

“But you’ve been gone a whole year!” Jacob said.

“I’ve come back to…” she glanced over at Cameron. He folded his arms and nodded sternly at her. “I’ve come back to say I’m sorry for acting like I had rights. I’m just a Shrinky...and I’m better off being Cameron’s pet.”

Jacob looked at Cameron. “No way. She really is your pet?”

“You bet man. I’m the best at­­”

The classroom door opened partially and a boy’s voice called, “Cameron, another news crew is here! They want another interview!”

Cameron beamed and placed his hands on his hips. “Thanks!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll be right there!”

Turning back to Jacob, he added, “That’s my cousin. He’s sort of been like my PR agent since I’ve been here though, haha. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Can you just give her to my cousin when you guys are done talking? I’ll have him wait outside.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Jacob stammered in surprise.

“Oh, and you can pet her if you want, too,” Cameron whispered, elbowing Jacob playfully in the side. “Just be gentle.”

With that he ran out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Jacob looked back down at Brianna.

“You’re really his pet, huh?” he asked her.

“Oh Jacob!” she sobbed, suddenly holding her head in her hands and weeping. “It’s awful. He took me from the mall. I’ve been with him for a year. He made me come back here and…” Her shoulders heaved as she cried into her hands. “He even made me tell my parents that I was happy being his pet. My own parents Jacob! I was so frightened of disappointing him...I’ve been his prisoner for so long...so long…”

Her eyes were glistening with tears when she lifted her head up and gazed pleadingly at him. “You have to help me,” she said. “I need to get away from him to clear my head, to remember who I am, to escape his...discipline sessions…” she shuddered. “Get me out of here, please!”

Jacob stared at her, not saying anything at first, his mind a swirl of thoughts and emotions. But he was an intelligent and decisive teen, one of the reasons he was so good at speed chess, and he sorted through his conflicting feelings quickly.

“You acted so high and mighty when you were here,” he said to her. “You treated me like crap, and you were the one who was six inches tall.”

“J­Jacob, what are you saying?”

“Look, I’m sorry that he’s making you do things you don’t want to, but maybe he’s right, maybe it is for your own good.”

“What? No, you can’t be serious! Not you too!”

“You should have been nicer to me when you had the chance,” he said. “Now you’ve been forced to be a little more humble, and I’m glad.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” she implored. “I really am, okay? You have to help me!”

Jacob flashed a weak yet smug grin at her. “No, I don’t have to do anything for you. You’re registered as a pet Shrinky in another state now, so you have no more rights here unless you contest that. And I’m pretty sure you won’t stand up to Cameron, right?”

The ashamed expression on her face when she looked away from him was all the answer he needed.

He stepped closer to the table and slowly reached out his hand, which trembled in anticipation. She noticed the movement and turned her head to look at him again. Her eyes widened when she saw his approaching hand.

“No, what are you doing?”

“You’re so hot, Brianna, or should I say, Tiffy,” he stated simply.

His hand slowly floated closer and she began backing away from it, searching for escape. He closed the carrier door with his other hand to ensure that she had nowhere to run.

“I’ve wanted to feel you up for so long,” he continued.

“No, no…” she breathed in a horrified tone.

“And now I can.”

His fingers wrapped around her. His heart felt like it nearly leapt out of his chest at the sensation of her warm, smooth body in his hand.

“No!” she cried shrilly, writhing and squirming in his fist.

He brought her up to his face, watching closely as her pretty face screamed at him and her perky breasts rubbed across the rim of his enclosed fist. He smiled contentedly.

After seating himself comfortably in the empty teacher’s chair, he pinned Brianna’s arms to her sides with the hand that held her. Then, like a dream come true, he used the fingers of his other hand to satisfying his curiosity about her sporty little body, ignoring her struggles and screams.

anaio10
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Re: Breaking Brianna

Post by anaio10 » Sun Jan 17, 2021 11:52 am

Wonderful story. If you can put in as many as you can, please.

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Re: Breaking Brianna

Post by Technomage » Tue Jan 26, 2021 7:10 am

Amazing story, please keep writing it.

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Re: Breaking Brianna

Post by AB23 » Tue Jan 26, 2021 10:15 pm

Hi! I wish I could continue this story but this was written by an author who went by the name of Huz. He'd post every now & then but he'd always disappear and repost his stories elsewhere.

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Re: Breaking Brianna

Post by Xinunar » Tue Dec 07, 2021 4:29 am

It pushes all the right buttons. Part of me wished Jacob had not turned out to be such a jerk at the end - the other part thinks it was practically perfect.

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