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.
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.