by Xinunar » Sun Jun 05, 2022 1:27 am
The halls of Empyrean are filled with flashes of lightening and crashes of thunder more intense than she has seen or heard in years, if ever!
Of course, there are always tiny static-electrical discharges throughout the citadel. They provide ambient lighting and a kind of white noise, that all giants, even lowly hill giants, find comforting. And on any given day, there will be a few major thunderbolts to shake things up – but nothing like this! The Council of Elders have summoned young Galefreya, a mere apprentice sage, on the most auspiciously stormy night since... well, since the night she was born, to hear her parents tell it.
Thrombolt Stratarus, eldest of her clan and acting Allégement of all Empyrean, presides over the Council. He is great uncle to Galefreya and kindly disposed to her, if distant. He stands a head and a half taller than she does – about twenty-five feet to her twenty (and a half). She was working on her journeyman level at miniology (or 'anthropology', she corrected herself) and had gotten the habit of mentally converting units to those of the min.
"About time you got here, youngling," his voice rumbles.
"I am sorry, Uncle. I was summoned suddenly, in the middle of the night, and I'm afraid the page had a hard time waking me over the storm."
"Not uncle here, child. This is Empyrean business." That meant that this wasn’t not just the business of the citadel, or of the city, but of the sky folk!
"The clouds portell of trouble brewing in the lowlands, involving the little people. You are a student of their curious culture," (Cultures, she thinks but doesn't correct him.) "one of the few to take such an interest in them. Old Thorombor, your mentor, is the only one who knows them better, and he is too old to Travel. The Council has decreed that you shall be sent on a mission among them. Gather what knowledge you can and try to find the source of these ill portents. You will be provided a ring, which has the charm of reduction. It will let you walk among the min without attracting undue notice."
"You mean I'm going to be a mini giantess!?"
"Uh, well, I uh.... You'll be able to go back and forth; you just take off the ring. I just thought...."
"I'm just teasing, Dexter," laughed Stephanie. "It sounds great! I love the setup."
Everyone in the gaming group was happy to have Stephanie back, but none more so than Dexter. He often complained about the paucity of female gamers and thought that getting more minis into role-playing was an excellent idea. He also had a bit of a crush on Stephanie (all the guys did), but it was not the same as Michael's. He thought of himself as a kind of big brother to the whole group, but Stephanie was the only female and very cute, so she was special. Her minning had only made him even more protective of her.
Dexter was a senior and would be leaving for college in the fall. He had already been accepted at Stanford. He was a nerd's nerd, the kind of guy trekies called star warrior and star warriors called trekie. But he was also cool, in a 'king of the nerds' kind of way. He was a problem solver, and people looked up to him for that.
Earlier, before the others arrived, he had complemented Stephanie's outfit. Michael observed that it was almost perfect for a giantess, but the collar seemed out of place. Dexter grabbed a tiny screwdriver and a circuit tester. He stuck the screwdriver in a small hole in the collar, twisted and touched it with the tester. With a faint click, the collar sprung open. They hid it and the leash in a drawer – wanting the gang to see Stephanie, as much as possible, as the same old Stephanie.
Stephanie had mixed feelings about this. She had stopped trying to pretend she wasn’t a mini, and going uncollared was a little bit dangerous. But she knew she was safe enough at Dexter’s house, with Michael and Dexter and the gang. And she didn’t want to appear ungrateful.
She was also very impressed, having read how supposedly unpickable the lock was. If life was fair, she thought, girls would be hanging on Dexter like a rock star. But he was painfully shy around girls--even Stephanie. She thought that if there ever was a guy who needed a mini or two it was Dexter. She didn't think he had ever dated and doubted, sans mini, that he ever would.
He also wove a good game scenario. He was a big fan of X-files-style storytelling – a big mystery as a backdrop to otherwise unconnected mini adventures. Stephanie doubted that they would find out what the storm giants were worried about before he headed off to college. Not that it would matter to her, she would be going back to Baltimore in a few days. And not that it really mattered to the game either. The point of the adventure wasn't to solve the mystery; the mystery was just an excuse to adventure. For that matter, the game itself was mostly just an excuse to socialize.
But it was fun, sitting on Michael's shoulder, pretending to be a twenty-foot giantess – while he pretended to be a three-foot hobbit, sitting on hers. When Dorfus Stoutbelly sat on Galefreya's shoulders, he would only look a little larger to her than Stephanie did to Michael. They all got a kick out of that. Only Dave McCormick showed any resentment at Stephanie's special treatment; he'd always wanted to play a giant. Dexter just pointed out that life, and he gestured to Stephanie, was not fair.
"It's not fair," Margaret whined. "I'm supposed to be on my vacation, and instead I'm a slave to a giant lesbian sadist."
"Stop whining and keep pumping," said Joyce. "You're so close. Just a little... bit... more. Oh, oh, ohhh!"
"Ohh! Don't make me laugh, when I'm so short of breath already!"
"It's good for you," said Joyce "I told you, hypobaric exercise, a day before re-enlargement, can help reduce short-term lung atrophy and increase the odds of success."
Margaret was in a small hypobaric chamber. It looked something like an over-sized crock pot or pressure cooker. It had a glass top, a built-in pump to regulate the pressure, and an array of monitoring equipment. There was also a built-in speaker, which allowed Joyce to hear what Margaret was saying (and even her under-her-breath muttering). The internal pressure was set to 2/3 atmosphere--about 11,000 feet. Margaret finished a set of 200 pushups before Joyce let her stop and catch her breath and get a drink of water.
"Why do I trust you so much?" asked Margaret, breathing between every word. "I bet you'd just love it if I got stuck and stayed your mini."
"Yes and no," said Joyce. "Yes, the idea of having you as my mini excites me. I won’t deny that – though we haven't even given it a trial run yet. And no, I don't want you to get stuck. Not if you don’t want it. If it does happen, it won't be because I was a lousy doctor – or worse, a lousy friend."
"Thank you, Joyce. You are a good friend – even if you do torture me and keep me naked."
Joyce smiled down at her. She was glad they splurged and rented the luxury-model hypobaric chamber, with the glass top that let her watch her naked mini go through her paces. She wouldn’t tell Margaret how much it cost, but she and Michael could have spent the week at Hershie’s Kisses for less.
Joyce made Margaret exercise another thirty minutes, while she slowly raised the air pressure back to normal. By the time they stopped, Margaret was exhausted. Joyce carried her to the bathroom and set her in a sink full of warm water and bath oil. She alternately agitated the water and gave Margaret a massage.
She picked Margaret up, with soapy slippery hands, and squeezed her gently, causing her to slide forward like a bar of soap. She would slide forward, only to be caught in the other hand, where it would repeat. Joyce thought it felt a little like jacking Richard off, only nicer. Margaret thought it felt... indescribable!
After the bath, Joyce dried Margaret and dressed her back the way they found her.
"Why do I need to be bound again?" asked Margaret.
"You went to all the trouble to be tied up, when we found you. And it was so cute! I know Richard liked it, so I want to put you back that way before he rejoins us."
"Where is Richard, anyway?"
"Watching a football game he put on his ipod earlier. He doesn't think exercising is what he calls 'good naked', so I promised to get you back in costume and in character by the time his game is over."
"In character?"
"Slave girl. Oh, and be sure to call us Mistress and Master."
"Master Dorfus, me thinks thou art getting a bit cheeky in thy brashness. Mayhap, one of your stature should choose his words more carefully, when addressing an Amazon such as I."
Stephanie stood, balanced on the round of Michael's shoulder, with her hands on her hips, and looked him straight in the eye.
Michael had to close his other eye to focus on her. With her standing on his shoulder, they were just about eye to eye. Only through the magic of role-play could he envision her as a six-foot-ten amazon (her 'mini' form, when she wore the ring).
"Didst thou just offend my height? Dost thou not know that is a grievous insult to a hobbit? I demand apology, lest I must resort to fisticuffs."
"Thou wouldst strike a lady? Ah, I see now that chivalry is indeed dead. Very well. To keep peace in the party, I shall apologize for pointing out thy abundance of shortness."
"Apology accepted," he said and kissed at her sarcastically.
She kissed the air back in return.
They had been playing for over three hours--very little of it in the pseudo-Shakespearian that Michael and Stephanie seemed to switch to whenever they started their playful banter. The hokey accent seemed to make the innuendo and love talk safer. By unspoken agreement, the giantess Galefreya and the hobbit Dorfus had a mixed-up romance budding.
The other gamers, while enjoying the scenario, thought that the Michael and Stephanie show was the real main event, and well worth the price of admission. Other than Dexter, they didn't know what else was planned.
Toby dropped by at about nine o'clock, with his mini, Jenny, in tow. They all took a break from the game for a round of greetings. The other gamers were surprised by this visit. Toby hadn't been to a game in over a year. Jenny hadn't come with him in even longer.
"Stephie!" Jenny happily yelled. She ran up to give her a hug as soon as Toby unhooked her leash. "Look at you! You're so cute!"
She broke the hug and stood back to look the tiny girl over. Stephanie's blond hair was worn somewhat wild and frizzy. She wore very pale body makeup, giving her a Swedish or Nordic look. Her blue eyes matched the tiny sapphires she wore in her ears. Jenny wondered if big people would even notice the gems, they were so small. Their elegance contrasted with the simple shift she wore, with its ragged edges and large tear across the chest. The tear was meant to look like a lightning bolt. Under it, she had a matching bolt painted on her skin in metallic gold body paint. When the two bolts lined up, a viewer would get the effect of little flash of lightning. It tended to startle people. All the guys had been startled by it at least once.
"Dang, girl. It ought to be a crime to be able to pull that look off." She looked down to Stephanie then up to Toby. She looked back and forth between them a couple of times, then she held her hand out horizontally – level with the top of Stephanie's head – and brought it over to her thigh. She did the same with herself and Toby, and saw that she came to about the same place on Toby as Stephanie did on her.
"You're like a mini's mini," said Jenny.
"Yeah... uh, yes, Miss Jenny," said Stephanie, "I thought of that too. You're about two point eight times taller than me, and Toby's two point eight times taller than you."
The smallest woman Jenny ever met had been ten inches, but she knew that some minis were even smaller, and the new Seven Down pill would make that pretty common. It gave her a rush to be the giantess, for a change.
"Are you doing all right?" Jenny asked seriously. "The master treating you right?" She eyed Michael suspiciously.
"I'm fine Miss Jenny, really. But Michael's not my master. He just brought me to the game. My brother Jackson is my master, and he treats me great."
Jenny was relieved to hear that; she knew how hard it could be, especially for the invols. She noticed Stephanie's lack of collar. That was hardly safe, especially if her master was going to loan her to friends. She resolved to take her aside later and warn her about that.
"Good. And you don't have to be so formal. I think the last time anyone called me Miss Jenny was when I used to babysit."
"Well," said Stephanie, with the beginnings of a blush, "you were formal with me, the last time I saw you, and I wanted to... do right."
"When was the last time I saw you anyway? Oh, the sleep over!" she said with a giggle. Stephanie's blush deepened. "You worried that I'm going to want some payback?"
"N-no. Not worried exactly. But... you'd be entitled."
Jenny looked around at the six guys in the room. None could even feign indifference. Some were literally on the edges of their seats.
"With all these guys around?” she asked Stephanie. “You think you can handle that?"
"I'm a mini. I can take it." She looked Jenny in the eyes, defiantly.
"Truth or dare?" asked Jenny.
"….Truth. I cannot remember the last time I had a nicer dinner or a more pleasant evening," said Richard.
"To our lovely and charming hostess, to whom we are eternally grateful," said Joyce.
She clinked her glass to Richard's – and then the tiny glass she held in her left hand to both. She had to do that for Margaret, who was kneeling on the table, with her hands still tied behind her back. Joyce held the thimble-sized glass to Margaret’s lips, for her to take a sip, before taking one herself.
"Thank you, Mistress," she said. "Eternally grateful? I'm a little worried what I'm expected to do to earn that!"
"Silly," said Joyce. She stroked Margaret’s bald head with her index finger, ran her fingernail down her back, tickling her through the thick shirt she wore and briefly stroked her bottom. "That's for what you've already done. You gave us our happy daughter back."
Margaret was surprised. "What? Stephanie is happy. I mean, she was already happy. Wasn't she?"
"No," said Richard. "She wasn't. She was... resigned and... adjusting. But she wasn't happy. Not last week. And her relationship with her mother and me was very strained. She and Jackson remained close, but even there.... We were seriously considering placing her in a commune or back in Micro City, or even with another family. In fact, if you hadn't run into the kids at the park last Saturday, we might have given you a call. Joyce and I were struggling with that."
"But something wonderful happened last Saturday," said Joyce. "She met an old friend."
Margaret thought back to the previous Saturday. Stephanie had been happy to see Michael, but then she quickly withdrew, when he expressed a very reasonable concern about the way Jackson treated her. Once she had gotten over that though, she really opened up to them, treating them almost like surrogate therapists.
"Shouldn't you be thanking Michael?" asked Margaret.
"Oh, we will. But I didn't mean Michael. I meant you. Let me tell you. Last Saturday, I insisted that Jackson take Stephanie to the park. I thought it might cheer her up to let her socialize with some other minis, minis who weren't in therapy and didn't hate their lives. But I had no idea how right I was! She came home more excited than I've seen her since before she got minned.”
"Mom!” Stephanie called out from the front hallway. “You go talk to Dad, Jackson. I want to tell Mom.
“Mom, guess who we met at the park!"
"Uh, Misty…? Michael…? Toby and Jenny?"
"Pretty good. You were right the second time. But you'll never guess who he was there with."
"Dexter…? Svetlana?" She almost guessed Misty again, but Stephanie would have told her if she had guessed right first and second. "I give up."
"His mom!" Stephanie said, with a mixture of excitement and shock.
Joyce was confused for a moment. Why would it be shocking for Michael to be at Morris Park with his.... "No! She didn't! How small?"
Stephanie held her hand up just a little above her own head. Joyce actually squealed, then clasped her hand to her mouth and struggled to control herself. It just wouldn't do, to have a spontaneous orgasm in front of her daughter.
"Richard!" she called. "Margaret’s a mini! A micro!"
"I just heard!" he called back. "I'll assemble a snatch team, and we'll have her before sunrise."
Joyce turned her attention back to Stephanie. "Tell me all about it."
"OK. So, we're at Mini Park, and it's about like I expected – a giant pet show, people walking their dogs on one side of the creek and their minis on the other, and some of the dogs are looking hungrily at the minis, and the minis are all looking longingly at the dogs."
Joyce looked confused, so Stephanie explained. "Two of the things I miss the most are Mittens and Schnelly. They really should come up with a way to min dogs and cats.
“Anyway, after that, we went over to the water park. I'm in line for the Big Gulp when I hear someone say 'Hi' to Jackson. It's Michael Kincaide, and he's got Margaret, smaller than life!
“He was carrying her in one of those papoose cases that a lot of newbies use, and she was wearing this ugly bathing suit that looked like she must have rolled Barbie in a dark alley. And let me tell you, she did Barbie a favor. Anyway, we got to talking and we just hung out together the whole day. It was great!"
"So, Margaret finally did it."
"Yeah. She says it's just for the week, though – a 'little' vacation. Isn't that weird? My nightmare is someone else's vacation."
"One man's cheese," said Joyce. "And no. It's not so weird."
Joyce paused a moment, then asked, "is it really a nightmare, darling?"
Stephanie frowned a moment, but then she smiled and said, "Not today."
She jumped up to Joyce's shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"That was the first time she's ever done that. She used to kiss me almost every day. And she still kisses me if I lean in for one. But jumping up on my shoulder to steal a kiss? Last week, she wouldn't do that on a...."
"Dare," said Stephanie.
"Oh, aren't you the brave one?" said Jenny. "I kind of expected truth the first round, like last time. Well, I was going to ask what that gold is, but I guess I'll just have to see for myself. I dare you to take off that chemise."
“That's not much of a dare," said Stephanie, tossing off her dress. "I'm a mini. I'm naked more often than not."
Stephanie looked even younger than her seventeen years. She was smooth as a baby, with pale skin that looked like it had never seen the sun—or a blemish. Blemishes tended to shrink more than normal skin, but it was partly due to expert application of high-quality makeup.
Also, Stephanie had been a vegetarian since she was six years old — after visiting a petting farm — and an all-vegetable diet tended to cause girls to develop more slowly. She had not been long in puberty before she got minned. The minning had not only halted that development, but slightly reversed it, though most of those effects were internal. Other than some nicely-developed breasts, Stephanie was the picture of an innocent sprite.
She did a little pirouette and bowed.
"What's that supposed to be?" asked Jenny, pointing to the gold design painted on Stephanie's chest.
"Painted circuitry," said Stephanie. "It's a tracking device that's a lot harder to remove than a collar."
Jenny looked surprised, the scowled. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth," said Stephanie, grinning.
"What's that supposed to be?"
"A lightning bolt. My character's a storm giant."
Jenny snorted, then that sunk in. In a way, it was even more unbelievable than her first story. Playing with bigs was one thing – that was pretty much what minis were for – but a giant? The boys’ faces told her it was true. She looked up at Toby. "Why don't we ever do anything like that?"
Toby shrugged. "You never asked."
She looked back at Stephanie. "Sorry. I took two turns. I'll take truth."
Stephanie shook her head. "Not ‘til we're even. You didn't get any turns before."
Again, Jenny was surprised. She thought back to the party two years ago. It had obviously made more of an impression on Stephanie than it had on her.
"Master," she asked Toby, "may I sit?"
"Oh, sure. Sorry. Make yourself at home."
That meant she was pretty much free to do whatever she wanted, even leave the room, without asking Toby first. They were casual at home, usually.
"You have a lovely home," said Joyce. She looked down at Margaret in her cage, as she said this. Margaret sat on her couch with her hands now free. They had just briefly toured the house, but now Joyce was being intentionally ambiguous whether she meant the whole house, or just the cage. Margaret didn't rise to the bait. "Thank you, Joyce."
Richard brought the last of their luggage into the room. It was just a couple of bags and something tall that was covered by a white cloth. "That's the last of it. Slave driver." "Sorry, dear. I'll make it up to you." They kissed and embraced. Then Richard unhooked her pearls and unzipped the back of her dress. "Bath or shower?" he asked. "Oh, bath. Definitely." Richard went to run it, while Joyce began putting away her jewelry and to finish undressing. Like most women, she dressed and undressed more slowly than her husband.
Margaret found the scene hauntingly familiar, she remembered having almost the exact same conversation and actions with James, not too many years ago. Baby Michael had been in his crib, just a few feet from where she sat now. She felt infantilized. That thought made her pout, and the irony of that wasn't lost on her either. She started to say something, but Joyce just said, "Shhh, let mommy get ready for her bath." Margaret fumed, and grew strangely aroused.
Naked, Joyce reached into Margaret’s cage. She lifted the shirt off Margaret, unnecessarily using two hands, then she lifted Margaret up to her bosom. She had beautiful DD cup breasts. Margaret was sure she must have had work done; nature was never that kind to fifty-year-old women, but she couldn't tell for sure. Someone did very good work, whether it was God or some doctor. She wasn't sure if she was expected to suckle, so for now she contented herself to be cradled while Joyce walked to the bath.
"Do my boobs intimidate you?"
Stephanie gave Jenny a side-long look. "My mom's got big tits. And I hate to disappoint you, but Misty's are way bigger, even at scale."
"And how close up have you seen your mom's tits—since puberty—or since you were ten, if you haven't hit that yet."
"Don't be gross, Jenny," said Stephanie, ignoring the dig. "I've stood on the dresser, while she changes – about as close as I am to you now."
"Yeah well, I think it's got to be a little more intimidating, knowing that you’re going to get closer. And what about Misty's?"
Stephanie's face was the picture of innocence. "Misty's... I've actually been inside Misty's. She just lifts them up like this... pops out the silicone, and I crawl right in. It's very cozy."
There was a loud bump, as Danny barely caught himself from falling. He had been sitting a bit too far forward in his chair.
Jenny got the game. If she asked a question without getting a 'truth', Stephanie would make up an outrageous lie. She had scored a small point, getting Stephanie to say even an innocuous truth about her mother. She settled back into the little chair she had made herself by, stuffing a pillow partially under the couch. The pillow was her seat, and the front of the couch made the back of her chair. She motioned Stephanie to come closer. "Truth or dare."
"Truth.... Wait!" said Stephanie. "If you're about to ask about Misty, I won't answer. It's one thing to pry my secrets, and another to get my friends'. And no, that doesn't confirm she has any secrets; it's just a general rule."
Jenny shook her head. "Not the way it works. You don't have to answer – but there's a penalty."
She straightened her legs and crooked her finger. The penalty was simple: five spanks. Stephanie had been the only one to pay that penalty two years ago, for refusing to allow Jenny to.... It wasn't that much of a penalty, anyway, and Stephanie was proud that, both then and now, she took the spanking to protect someone else. She wondered if she was going to get the same dare again tonight—with their positions reversed. And if she did, would she do it—or take the spanking again? This time she wouldn't be protecting someone else. She'd just be wimping out.
Jenny was not rough with the spanking. She hadn't planned to be anyway, but as she looked at their audience, she was glad that she had decided to be gentle.
"You know," she said, "I was going to go easy on you because we're in a room full of guys. But now, I'm looking around, and I see a room full of mother hens. They all look ready to pounce if I get out of line. Even Toby! You know, you're my guardian, not hers! How do you do it, Steph? Why are all the guys so protective of you? Am I not small enough?"
"Well," said Stephanie, standing and resisting the urge to rub her bottom, "we've all been friends a long time. But you don't have to worry about them. I... I'll do anything you had to do. They won't interfere."
Jenny arched an eyebrow. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to sit in my lap, like a baby."
"It's been a long time since I had a little girl in the bath with me." said Joyce. She held Margaret in her lap, as she washed her.
"I know," said Richard, sitting next to her in the large tub. "And you look as beautiful today as you did then." He alternated between kissing Joyce passionately and kissing Margaret more playfully. Of course, it would have been physically impossible to give Margaret the same kind of passionate kisses he gave Joyce. But aside from that, he and Joyce were acting like a loving couple - with a baby in the bath with them. At first, Margaret had been off put by the infantilization. But as she got into it, she liked it more and more. She felt secure, protected, loved.
"We'd better get her out of here, before she and I both turn into prunes," said Joyce.
Richard unstopped the drain, then got out of the tub and began to dry off. Joyce ran fresh warm water into her hand and used that to rinse off Margaret. Then she handed her to Richard.
He laid her on a folded towel on the counter and brought the sides up around her to pat her dry. "Thank you," he said. "This has brought back memories – happy times of new fatherhood. But I'm ready to move on to more grown-up activities. You?"
"Mmmm Hmmm," Margaret moaned, lounging on her terry cloth bed.
Richard kissed and nuzzled her and tentatively touched her body with the tip of his giant tongue. She arched her back to bring her breasts up to meet him, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose.
That was too much work in her present state, so she lay back and just made cooing noises and moved enough to let him know that she liked what he was doing. Richard drew designs in saliva on her torso and slowly worked his way downward until he got to a spot that he didn't want to leave. Soon he brought her to her first orgasm of the evening. It was a blessed relief to Margaret, having spent most of the evening, and much of the day, on the cusp, in anticipation.
Recovering, Margaret looked up and saw Joyce and Richard towering over her, smiling. She was struck by her own sense of deja vu. "I know what you mean,” she said. “For a moment, it was like I was looking at me and James, standing over Michael. Don't get me wrong; the closest we ever came to that was giving him zubers!"
She looked at Joyce and added, "and that was the closest I ever came to having breasts like yours--back when I was...."
"Breast feeding? What... who?" Stephanie asked, then gave a sheepish look. "I guess that was a dumb question."
"Why?" asked Danny, breaking the unspoken vow of silence all the guys had been keeping. He looked back and forth between Jenny and her master.
"For one thing, it's very healthy—for both of us," Jenny answered. "The longer a woman breast feeds, the lower her chances of breast cancer. Everyone knows that. And I look good—two cup sizes up, relatively speaking. And even though they look big on me, they only weigh a few ounces. I'll never sag. And I look like I'm stretched more than I really am, too. I bounce right back into shape when I dry up.
And I'll never have children, so this helps me feel maternal. So why wouldn't I?"
"Because it's... weird!" said Danny.
"Then you should write a letter to Little Miss Sunshine and suggest that minis stop doing something that makes them prettier, happier and healthier, and helps them bond with their guardians, because you think it's weird. Better hurry, it's becoming more popular all the time. While you're at it, you might want to lobby to get all those laws and rulings that let mothers nurse in public places overturned."
She smiled to let him know that she wasn't really angry, just a little put out.
"Oh, and did I mention that it's very good for the masters too? There are whole books on the benefits of breast milk. Toby hasn't had a sniffle in a year. You've heard the expression: like mother's milk to him? Well, it really is." She looked down at Stephanie, cradled in her lap. "Truth or dare?"
Stephanie gulped. "Dare?" she said, uncertainly.
"Danny, you might want to leave the room," said Jenny.
He didn't.
The nipple barely fit in her mouth, but she gave it her best effort. Margaret first positioned herself so that she could use her legs and feet to massage Joyce's left breast, while she hugged and sucked on the right. But then she sat up, so that she could wrap both her arms and legs around the one she was sucking. She took a quick break and leaned back, twisting herself, so she could take the other nipple in her mouth. She did this for many minutes, alternating from one breast to the other.
While Margaret focused on Joyce’s tits, Richard caressed and kissed her lips – alternating from one set of lips to the other. Finally, he intensified his efforts on her clitoris, until he was rewarded with a massive shudder and moan.
Richard laid back on the bed. After taking a moment to recover, Joyce wrapped her thumb and finger around Margaret’s waist and lifted her up. There was a quiet 'pop' as she was pulled away from the nipple. Joyce set her down on Richard's penis to let her give him similar treatment. She watched the tiny woman for a while, then got up. She moved behind Margaret and started massaging her with lotion. Margaret loved the sensation of being massaged while massaging Richard. Soon she also became very slippery, which added to both their pleasure.
"Margaret, look at me," said Richard. That reminded her of Dave Conner, but only a little. There was no glare in her eyes this time, no chance that Richard would say, never mind, just do your work. They basked in the beauty of each other's faces and each other's pleasure. Richard knew that he got the better deal. For one thing, he was sure that she was prettier to him than he was to her. For another, he could also see the beautiful face of his wife, looking gigantic behind the tiny elf. Joyce continued to massage Margaret and move her around--using Margaret to massage Richard. Occasionally, she would bend close and kiss or lick Margaret’s head or back or both. A few times she licked low enough to touch Richard with the tip of her tongue, behind and below Margaret.
"Look only at me, Margaret. Don't look at Joyce until I say so--even if you need to talk to her, understand?" Margaret nodded. "Think you can handle something more... intense? Indulge your submissive side?" Margaret nodded again. Wasn't she already? Joyce got off the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret could see her uncover whatever it was they had brought. She tried to focus on Richard, concentrate on his head—heads. Fortunately, they were both right in front of her. Look down, lick; look up, smile.
"Do you like being a mini?"
Stephanie had to think about that. "A week ago, I called it my living nightmare. But that wasn't really true. I was already having some fun, with the cheer squad and all. And it's sweet the way Jackson takes care of me. I'm never lonely; he won't let me be. And this week I've had a lot of fun. I'd still be restored if I could, but there's a lot to be said for it. Good enough?"
Jenny nodded. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to... do your sexiest cheer routine for us."
Stephanie felt very self-conscious about that one. Usually she'd at least wear body paint, and her audience would be more than a dozen yards away. No one could tell body paint from a leotard on her, from more than a few feet away. But it was a fair dare.
"You'll have to stand up. I need an assistant for parts of it."
She started with some standard cheers, leaps, and splits. Her audience especially liked the jumping jacks and airplane jumps. Michael and Dexter looked embarrassed, turned on, but embarrassed; but she smiled at them, and they smiled back. She worried that Michael might be feeling a bit jealous. She knew she should discourage that; she wasn't his – girlfriend or mini. But she didn't have the heart to hurt his feelings in front of his friends, so instead she focused on him and pretended that she was doing the cheers just for him.
“Pick that pocket! Trick that troll! Hide in shadows! Make that roll!” The guys all laughed at her impromptu cheer.
She had Jenny stand with her arms outstretched. She leaped into her right hand and did somersaults up her arm, across her back and down to her left hand. She had misgivings doing this with such a small partner but, like her, Jenny was stronger than she looked. The handstand behind Jenny's head had a very different look than usual. A lot more of her was visible than just her legs, so it didn't look like antennae coming from the back of Jenny's head; it looked like what it was, the lower half of a naked girl. But she doubted anyone would complain. From there, she did a backwards half flip, landing just in front of Jenny. Bringing one leg back, she knelt on one knee and stretched out her arms in a final 'ta da'. Her arms bumped into Jenny's legs, which were to either side of her, reminding her that this was a smaller partner than she was used to.
"Don't move but look up." She froze with her hands clasped above her head. She was doing a houri dance – or, as she thought of it, the 'I Dream Of Jeanie' dance. Nervously, she looked up... and up. Joyce towered over her like a skyscraper. Margaret noticed the symmetry of their positions. She was kneeling with her legs on either side of Richard, and so was Joyce—directly above her. She could only see her face because she was leaning over to see Margaret.
"Margaret, darling," said Joyce, soothingly, "you know you don't have to do anything you don't want." Margaret nodded.
"OK, I need you to help me with some final calibrations. Here, breathe through this tube, in through the tube, out around it or through your nose." She put the end of a plastic tube into Margaret’s mouth. She noted approvingly that Margaret still had not moved from the position she had frozen in when Richard said, "Don't move."
The end of the tube was shaped like a mouth guard, so Margaret could easily hold it. Joyce leaned over and made some adjustments on the monitoring device beside her. Soon an oscilloscope was undulating, lights were blinking, and it made a soft beeping noise, all in time with Margaret’s breath.
"Open." Joyce removed the tube from Margaret’s mouth and counted to five. Alarms began to sound. She replaced the tube and it quieted down, returning to its steady beep beep. "Blow. Hard," she said, and again the alarm sounded.
"Good. Remember, five seconds without a breath, and the alarm will sound. Blow hard, and the alarm will sound."
Margaret was nervous and excited. Joyce was as intimidating as ever or even more so. Margaret should have known she was up to something, massaging her with oil. Joyce could be very generous and giving, but it seemed she almost always had ulterior motives for her good deeds, preferring to "do well, while doing good."
Joyce's face retreated from view. It was the moment of....
"Truth or.... Just choose truth, OK? There's something I want to ask you."
This should be the last round, and Stephanie had been dreading it. She was relieved, but... "You sure? I told you, I'll do everything you had to do at the party."
"You've done everything but one. And a. i. r. you took a penalty, rather than be the one that made me do that. I'd be a rat to make you do it now. And yeah, I had to do everything you girls said, but I didn't have to become a mini.
"Oh, and b. t. w., I had fun at the party." Jenny smiled.
Stephanie was relieved. She had said that it would be easier to do humiliating things in front of guys she trusted than girls she didn't, but.... She looked up at Michael, gave a sigh of relief and said, "Truth."
"Are you in love with Michael?"
"What? How? Why...?"
"Well, Toby and Mike have been friends a long time. Not super close, but friends. And everyone knows Mike’s crazy about you."
"And crazy is the right word there—having a crush on the brilliant, beautiful, rich girl, who's over a year older than him. Girl, you were so far out of his league—and imho, still are—he has to be either crazy or stupid. And I know he's not stupid.
"But then I see the way you've been looking at him all night, and I think maybe he's not so crazy either. So... inquiring minds want to know."
Stephanie was taken off guard. She tried to think what to say and how to say it, but she was also distracted by what Jenny had said. She didn't think of herself as better than other people and certainly not out of Michael's league. She was a little offended. She didn't know anyone who was out of Michael's league. "I, well, I do love him...."
"Uh uh, I said 'in' love. I love lots of people. I love my mom and dad, even if they do think I was nuts to become a mini. And I love Toby, but I'm not 'in' love with him. Thank goodness. That would be kind of awkward, you know?"
"Exactly, I mean, maybe someday I could be his mini, but I can't ever be his lover. I can't cook his meals or bear his children or... be his wife."
"And he's a really great 'just a friend', isn't he?" said Jenny, sarcastically.
Stephanie glared.
"Don't you think he deserves an honest answer?” Jenny asked. “Or do you just want to take the penalty?"
"Fine." Said Stephanie, angrily. "'In' love. Yes. I'm in love with him. But I don't see how that changes anything." She looked at Michael as she said that.
Michael stood up, with a grim and determined expression on his face, He walked slowly over to Stephanie and grabbed her around the waist. He lifted the tiny girl up to his face.
Stephanie struggled. Just because she was in love with him didn't mean she wanted him to manhandle her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted a kiss right now.
"I'm claiming this mini," said Michael, "this unattended, untagged and uncollared mini, under the Mini Guardian Act."
He smiled. “You are mine, tiny girl.”
"Michael! Stop fooling around. You can't do that. I'm already in your charge! Now put me down and apologize, or I'm telling Jackson."
"I'm sorry."
"What for?" said Joyce.
"I didn't pull out. I came inside you."
"Oh well, you weren't the only one."
Margaret blushed. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you could be pregnant?"
"It's highly unlikely. I was never very fertile; you notice we only have the two children. And at my age...."
"You don't use precautions?"
"We're Mormons."
Margaret almost laughed, but she knew that would be rude. Religious rules didn't have to make since.
"Still, it's exciting to think that I might have been in on it, from the beginning, so to speak."
"Well," said Richard. "It is even possible that you could be pregnant."
"What!!!"
"That's right," said Michael. "Jackson loaned you to me, Monday night. And he loaned you to Misty, Wednesday night. But today he just ran off and said, 'you guys have fun.' That's very irresponsible. Guardians have to be responsible, or what's the point of having them? And look at you. What are you wearing? Earrings, a little splash of gold on your chest and a smile—well, you had a smile. No collar or other ID. It's like you're begging to be claimed."
"You... you took my collar off!"
"Uh, actually, I did," said Dexter. "Michael just mentioned that it didn't go with your persona."
Stephanie glared. "Michael, you're being ridiculous. You know you can't make it stick. And if you could, would you really betray Jackson that way? He looks up to you. He trusted you!"
"Yeah. I guess I should call him and smooth things out."
"What? I'm a mini! I'm not even ovulating! How could I get pregnant?"
"Well," said Richard, "if an egg traveled into the lower areas—and Joyce is prone to that, that's why she's not very fertile—then it could get sucked into you, say during a powerful orgasm. You didn't have one of those did you?"
Richard grinned. "Grad student at Cal Tech made a computer model of the possibility. Under the best conditions, the odds are about one in twenty million. I don't think you need to rush to the clinic."
Margaret was stunned. Then she sighed. "I guess that's for the best. Full-size egg, full-size sperm. I'd look like I swallowed an inflatable raft."
"It doesn't work that way," said Joyce. "The same effect that shrinks the microbes in your body, and any internal parasites you pick up after you’re minned, would cause the fetus to develop in miniature."
"So, the baby would be born a mini?"
"Technically a midget," said Richard. "Legally, one can't be born a mini."
"Want to try again. Double your odds, to one in ten million? What do you think?"
"Pretty good. Everyone loved her outfit. That lightning effect worked great. Look, the reason I called, I just claimed Stephanie as my mini. I know I should have asked you first but.... Well, sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. … Huh? I'm not sure. She's acting real mad at me, but I think she's mostly just worried about you – ya know? … Yeah, same here. You want to talk in private, or can I put you on speaker? The other guys are right here. … Okay."
"Jackson?" said Stephanie.
"Sorry, Steph. Sounds like I got careless."
"The whole thing is just stupid. He can't make it stick."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, I'll just demand to be put up for adoption. I don't think he's jerk enough to hit us up for the adoption fee." She glared at Michael.
"Well, if I have to drive you out to your grandmother's, I should get a dollar for gas money."
"See, Steph," said Jackson. "All you have to do is say you don't want to be his mini, in front of witnesses."
"That's right," said Stephanie, crossing her arms in satisfaction.
"But Stephanie?"
"Yes, Jackson?"
"Would that be true?"
Stephanie didn’t say anything.
"I've been a pretty good guardian, haven't I?"
Stephanie nodded without thinking that he couldn't see it.
"I mean it's almost been like I was your giant, more than you were my mini. Right?"
"Yes," she said.
"Then you gotta be honest. You owe me that." He paused a moment, then he said, "I just want you happy."
Stephanie walked up to the phone and pushed the speaker-off button.
"I love you, baby brother," she whispered.
"Love you too, big sister. Hey, Michael!"
"Wait. He can't hear you." She motioned for Michael to take the phone.
"You better take care of my sister."
"I will, Jackson. You know that,” said Michael. “See you tomorrow, okay?"
"Now comes the hard part," Michael said, turning off the phone.
"Having an uppity mini?"
"Telling your mom and dad."
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom. I've got Michael on speaker. Can you put Dad and Mrs. Kincaide on?"
"Your father's right here, but Margaret is, uh, lying down. Yes, I hate to get her out—of bed. She seems very comfy, in kind of a oh, oh, fetal position. What? Oh, I've got something in my... the oven. I'm worried about overheating. What's the trouble? . . . Oh, he did! Pretty daring, considering the position his mother's in. No. I wouldn't really hold her—too long. And what did Jackson say? … Oh. Well, we could probably fight it, but you know we won't. You'll be back by twelve, right. That beeping? Uh, uh, that's my casserole. I've got to come, uh go, get Margaret. I need her. One at the very latest! By! Yie, Yie...."
"Cooking?" said Stephanie. "I tell ya. Adulthood is wasted on the old." She stepped on the phone's off button. "What now, O Master?"
"Now, Milady? We forge on. To the caves of the hill giants! Adventure awaits!"
"That was... wonderful," said Joyce, sprawling on her back beside Richard, Margaret sprawled across her chest. She used two fingers to slide Margaret up closer to her mouth
"Oh, and that was our children on the phone. It seems they've made an end run around guardian supervision."
It took Margaret a moment to register what Joyce was saying. Giant lips and tongue were buffeting her and caressing her, and Joyce's words were broken by kisses, licks and nibbles. "What do you mean? They made love?"
Margaret couldn't think what they might have done that Stephanie would feel the need to call and confess.
"Worse. Michael claimed her as his own mini."
"What!? That's, that's.... I'm sure I should be angry or apologizing or something. But all I can think is, that’s wonderful!" The idea of Stephanie coming to live with her and Michael sounded.... "Oh! Joyce, Richard, I don't know what to say."
"We are going to have some logistics to work out," said Richard.
"Let's worry about it in the morning," said Joyce.
[i]The halls of Empyrean are filled with flashes of lightening and crashes of thunder more intense than she has seen or heard in years, if ever!
Of course, there are always tiny static-electrical discharges throughout the citadel. They provide ambient lighting and a kind of white noise, that all giants, even lowly hill giants, find comforting. And on any given day, there will be a few major thunderbolts to shake things up – but nothing like this! The Council of Elders have summoned young Galefreya, a mere apprentice sage, on the most auspiciously stormy night since... well, since the night she was born, to hear her parents tell it.
Thrombolt Stratarus, eldest of her clan and acting Allégement of all Empyrean, presides over the Council. He is great uncle to Galefreya and kindly disposed to her, if distant. He stands a head and a half taller than she does – about twenty-five feet to her twenty (and a half). She was working on her journeyman level at miniology (or 'anthropology', she corrected herself) and had gotten the habit of mentally converting units to those of the min.
"About time you got here, youngling," his voice rumbles.
"I am sorry, Uncle. I was summoned suddenly, in the middle of the night, and I'm afraid the page had a hard time waking me over the storm."
"Not uncle here, child. This is Empyrean business." That meant that this wasn’t not just the business of the citadel, or of the city, but of the sky folk!
"The clouds portell of trouble brewing in the lowlands, involving the little people. You are a student of their curious culture," (Cultures, she thinks but doesn't correct him.) "one of the few to take such an interest in them. Old Thorombor, your mentor, is the only one who knows them better, and he is too old to Travel. The Council has decreed that you shall be sent on a mission among them. Gather what knowledge you can and try to find the source of these ill portents. You will be provided a ring, which has the charm of reduction. It will let you walk among the min without attracting undue notice." [/i]
"You mean I'm going to be a [i]mini[/i] giantess!?"
"Uh, well, I uh.... You'll be able to go back and forth; you just take off the ring. I just thought...."
"I'm just teasing, Dexter," laughed Stephanie. "It sounds great! I love the setup."
Everyone in the gaming group was happy to have Stephanie back, but none more so than Dexter. He often complained about the paucity of female gamers and thought that getting more minis into role-playing was an excellent idea. He also had a bit of a crush on Stephanie (all the guys did), but it was not the same as Michael's. He thought of himself as a kind of big brother to the whole group, but Stephanie was the only female and very cute, so she was special. Her minning had only made him even more protective of her.
Dexter was a senior and would be leaving for college in the fall. He had already been accepted at Stanford. He was a nerd's nerd, the kind of guy trekies called star warrior and star warriors called trekie. But he was also cool, in a 'king of the nerds' kind of way. He was a problem solver, and people looked up to him for that.
Earlier, before the others arrived, he had complemented Stephanie's outfit. Michael observed that it was almost perfect for a giantess, but the collar seemed out of place. Dexter grabbed a tiny screwdriver and a circuit tester. He stuck the screwdriver in a small hole in the collar, twisted and touched it with the tester. With a faint click, the collar sprung open. They hid it and the leash in a drawer – wanting the gang to see Stephanie, as much as possible, as the same old Stephanie.
Stephanie had mixed feelings about this. She had stopped trying to pretend she wasn’t a mini, and going uncollared was a little bit dangerous. But she knew she was safe enough at Dexter’s house, with Michael and Dexter and the gang. And she didn’t want to appear ungrateful.
She was also very impressed, having read how supposedly unpickable the lock was. If life was fair, she thought, girls would be hanging on Dexter like a rock star. But he was painfully shy around girls--even Stephanie. She thought that if there ever was a guy who needed a mini or two it was Dexter. She didn't think he had ever dated and doubted, sans mini, that he ever would.
He also wove a good game scenario. He was a big fan of X-files-style storytelling – a big mystery as a backdrop to otherwise unconnected mini adventures. Stephanie doubted that they would find out what the storm giants were worried about before he headed off to college. Not that it would matter to her, she would be going back to Baltimore in a few days. And not that it really mattered to the game either. The point of the adventure wasn't to solve the mystery; the mystery was just an excuse to adventure. For that matter, the game itself was mostly just an excuse to socialize.
But it was fun, sitting on Michael's shoulder, pretending to be a twenty-foot giantess – while he pretended to be a three-foot hobbit, sitting on hers. When Dorfus Stoutbelly sat on Galefreya's shoulders, he would only look a little larger to her than Stephanie did to Michael. They all got a kick out of that. Only Dave McCormick showed any resentment at Stephanie's special treatment; he'd always wanted to play a giant. Dexter just pointed out that life, and he gestured to Stephanie, was not fair.
"It's not fair," Margaret whined. "I'm supposed to be on my vacation, and instead I'm a slave to a giant lesbian sadist."
"Stop whining and keep pumping," said Joyce. "You're so close. Just a little... bit... more. Oh, oh, ohhh!"
"Ohh! Don't make me laugh, when I'm so short of breath already!"
"It's good for you," said Joyce "I told you, hypobaric exercise, a day before re-enlargement, can help reduce short-term lung atrophy and increase the odds of success."
Margaret was in a small hypobaric chamber. It looked something like an over-sized crock pot or pressure cooker. It had a glass top, a built-in pump to regulate the pressure, and an array of monitoring equipment. There was also a built-in speaker, which allowed Joyce to hear what Margaret was saying (and even her under-her-breath muttering). The internal pressure was set to 2/3 atmosphere--about 11,000 feet. Margaret finished a set of 200 pushups before Joyce let her stop and catch her breath and get a drink of water.
"Why do I trust you so much?" asked Margaret, breathing between every word. "I bet you'd just love it if I got stuck and stayed your mini."
"Yes and no," said Joyce. "Yes, the idea of having you as my mini excites me. I won’t deny that – though we haven't even given it a trial run yet. And no, I don't want you to get stuck. Not if you don’t want it. If it does happen, it won't be because I was a lousy doctor – or worse, a lousy friend."
"Thank you, Joyce. You are a good friend – even if you do torture me and keep me naked."
Joyce smiled down at her. She was glad they splurged and rented the luxury-model hypobaric chamber, with the glass top that let her watch her naked mini go through her paces. She wouldn’t tell Margaret how much it cost, but she and Michael could have spent the week at Hershie’s Kisses for less.
Joyce made Margaret exercise another thirty minutes, while she slowly raised the air pressure back to normal. By the time they stopped, Margaret was exhausted. Joyce carried her to the bathroom and set her in a sink full of warm water and bath oil. She alternately agitated the water and gave Margaret a massage.
She picked Margaret up, with soapy slippery hands, and squeezed her gently, causing her to slide forward like a bar of soap. She would slide forward, only to be caught in the other hand, where it would repeat. Joyce thought it felt a little like jacking Richard off, only nicer. Margaret thought it felt... indescribable!
After the bath, Joyce dried Margaret and dressed her back the way they found her.
"Why do I need to be bound again?" asked Margaret.
"You went to all the trouble to be tied up, when we found you. And it was so cute! I know Richard liked it, so I want to put you back that way before he rejoins us."
"Where is Richard, anyway?"
"Watching a football game he put on his ipod earlier. He doesn't think exercising is what he calls 'good naked', so I promised to get you back in costume and in character by the time his game is over."
"In character?"
"Slave girl. Oh, and be sure to call us Mistress and Master."
"Master Dorfus, me thinks thou art getting a bit cheeky in thy brashness. Mayhap, one of your stature should choose his words more carefully, when addressing an Amazon such as I."
Stephanie stood, balanced on the round of Michael's shoulder, with her hands on her hips, and looked him straight in the eye.
Michael had to close his other eye to focus on her. With her standing on his shoulder, they were just about eye to eye. Only through the magic of role-play could he envision her as a six-foot-ten amazon (her 'mini' form, when she wore the ring).
"Didst thou just offend my height? Dost thou not know that is a grievous insult to a hobbit? I demand apology, lest I must resort to fisticuffs."
"Thou wouldst strike a lady? Ah, I see now that chivalry is indeed dead. Very well. To keep peace in the party, I shall apologize for pointing out thy abundance of shortness."
"Apology accepted," he said and kissed at her sarcastically.
She kissed the air back in return.
They had been playing for over three hours--very little of it in the pseudo-Shakespearian that Michael and Stephanie seemed to switch to whenever they started their playful banter. The hokey accent seemed to make the innuendo and love talk safer. By unspoken agreement, the giantess Galefreya and the hobbit Dorfus had a mixed-up romance budding.
The other gamers, while enjoying the scenario, thought that the Michael and Stephanie show was the real main event, and well worth the price of admission. Other than Dexter, they didn't know what else was planned.
Toby dropped by at about nine o'clock, with his mini, Jenny, in tow. They all took a break from the game for a round of greetings. The other gamers were surprised by this visit. Toby hadn't been to a game in over a year. Jenny hadn't come with him in even longer.
"Stephie!" Jenny happily yelled. She ran up to give her a hug as soon as Toby unhooked her leash. "Look at you! You're so cute!"
She broke the hug and stood back to look the tiny girl over. Stephanie's blond hair was worn somewhat wild and frizzy. She wore very pale body makeup, giving her a Swedish or Nordic look. Her blue eyes matched the tiny sapphires she wore in her ears. Jenny wondered if big people would even notice the gems, they were so small. Their elegance contrasted with the simple shift she wore, with its ragged edges and large tear across the chest. The tear was meant to look like a lightning bolt. Under it, she had a matching bolt painted on her skin in metallic gold body paint. When the two bolts lined up, a viewer would get the effect of little flash of lightning. It tended to startle people. All the guys had been startled by it at least once.
"Dang, girl. It ought to be a crime to be able to pull that look off." She looked down to Stephanie then up to Toby. She looked back and forth between them a couple of times, then she held her hand out horizontally – level with the top of Stephanie's head – and brought it over to her thigh. She did the same with herself and Toby, and saw that she came to about the same place on Toby as Stephanie did on her.
"You're like a mini's mini," said Jenny.
"Yeah... uh, yes, Miss Jenny," said Stephanie, "I thought of that too. You're about two point eight times taller than me, and Toby's two point eight times taller than you."
The smallest woman Jenny ever met had been ten inches, but she knew that some minis were even smaller, and the new Seven Down pill would make that pretty common. It gave her a rush to be the giantess, for a change.
"Are you doing all right?" Jenny asked seriously. "The master treating you right?" She eyed Michael suspiciously.
"I'm fine Miss Jenny, really. But Michael's not my master. He just brought me to the game. My brother Jackson is my master, and he treats me great."
Jenny was relieved to hear that; she knew how hard it could be, especially for the invols. She noticed Stephanie's lack of collar. That was hardly safe, especially if her master was going to loan her to friends. She resolved to take her aside later and warn her about that.
"Good. And you don't have to be so formal. I think the last time anyone called me Miss Jenny was when I used to babysit."
"Well," said Stephanie, with the beginnings of a blush, "you were formal with me, the last time I saw you, and I wanted to... do right."
"When was the last time I saw you anyway? Oh, the sleep over!" she said with a giggle. Stephanie's blush deepened. "You worried that I'm going to want some payback?"
"N-no. Not worried exactly. But... you'd be entitled."
Jenny looked around at the six guys in the room. None could even feign indifference. Some were literally on the edges of their seats.
"With all these guys around?” she asked Stephanie. “You think you can handle that?"
"I'm a mini. I can take it." She looked Jenny in the eyes, defiantly.
"Truth or dare?" asked Jenny.
"….Truth. I cannot remember the last time I had a nicer dinner or a more pleasant evening," said Richard.
"To our lovely and charming hostess, to whom we are eternally grateful," said Joyce.
She clinked her glass to Richard's – and then the tiny glass she held in her left hand to both. She had to do that for Margaret, who was kneeling on the table, with her hands still tied behind her back. Joyce held the thimble-sized glass to Margaret’s lips, for her to take a sip, before taking one herself.
"Thank you, Mistress," she said. "Eternally grateful? I'm a little worried what I'm expected to do to earn that!"
"Silly," said Joyce. She stroked Margaret’s bald head with her index finger, ran her fingernail down her back, tickling her through the thick shirt she wore and briefly stroked her bottom. "That's for what you've already done. You gave us our happy daughter back."
Margaret was surprised. "What? Stephanie is happy. I mean, she was already happy. Wasn't she?"
"No," said Richard. "She wasn't. She was... resigned and... adjusting. But she wasn't happy. Not last week. And her relationship with her mother and me was very strained. She and Jackson remained close, but even there.... We were seriously considering placing her in a commune or back in Micro City, or even with another family. In fact, if you hadn't run into the kids at the park last Saturday, we might have given you a call. Joyce and I were struggling with that."
"But something wonderful happened last Saturday," said Joyce. "She met an old friend."
Margaret thought back to the previous Saturday. Stephanie had been happy to see Michael, but then she quickly withdrew, when he expressed a very reasonable concern about the way Jackson treated her. Once she had gotten over that though, she really opened up to them, treating them almost like surrogate therapists.
"Shouldn't you be thanking Michael?" asked Margaret.
"Oh, we will. But I didn't mean Michael. I meant you. Let me tell you. Last Saturday, I insisted that Jackson take Stephanie to the park. I thought it might cheer her up to let her socialize with some other minis, minis who weren't in therapy and didn't hate their lives. But I had no idea how right I was! She came home more excited than I've seen her since before she got minned.”
"Mom!” Stephanie called out from the front hallway. “You go talk to Dad, Jackson. I want to tell Mom.
[i]
“Mom, guess who we met at the park!"
"Uh, Misty…? Michael…? Toby and Jenny?"
"Pretty good. You were right the second time. But you'll never guess who he was there with."
"Dexter…? Svetlana?" She almost guessed Misty again, but Stephanie would have told her if she had guessed right first and second. "I give up."
"His mom!" Stephanie said, with a mixture of excitement and shock.
Joyce was confused for a moment. Why would it be shocking for Michael to be at Morris Park with his.... "No! She didn't! How small?"
Stephanie held her hand up just a little above her own head. Joyce actually squealed, then clasped her hand to her mouth and struggled to control herself. It just wouldn't do, to have a spontaneous orgasm in front of her daughter.
"Richard!" she called. "Margaret’s a mini! A micro!"
"I just heard!" he called back. "I'll assemble a snatch team, and we'll have her before sunrise."
Joyce turned her attention back to Stephanie. "Tell me all about it."
"OK. So, we're at Mini Park, and it's about like I expected – a giant pet show, people walking their dogs on one side of the creek and their minis on the other, and some of the dogs are looking hungrily at the minis, and the minis are all looking longingly at the dogs."
Joyce looked confused, so Stephanie explained. "Two of the things I miss the most are Mittens and Schnelly. They really should come up with a way to min dogs and cats.
“Anyway, after that, we went over to the water park. I'm in line for the Big Gulp when I hear someone say 'Hi' to Jackson. It's Michael Kincaide, and he's got Margaret, smaller than life!
“He was carrying her in one of those papoose cases that a lot of newbies use, and she was wearing this ugly bathing suit that looked like she must have rolled Barbie in a dark alley. And let me tell you, she did Barbie a favor. Anyway, we got to talking and we just hung out together the whole day. It was great!"
"So, Margaret finally did it."
"Yeah. She says it's just for the week, though – a 'little' vacation. Isn't that weird? My nightmare is someone else's vacation."
"One man's cheese," said Joyce. "And no. It's not so weird."
Joyce paused a moment, then asked, "is it really a nightmare, darling?"
Stephanie frowned a moment, but then she smiled and said, "Not today."
She jumped up to Joyce's shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
[/i]
"That was the first time she's [i]ever[/i] done that. She used to kiss me almost every day. And she still kisses me if I lean in for one. But jumping up on my shoulder to steal a kiss? Last week, she wouldn't do that on a...."
"Dare," said Stephanie.
"Oh, aren't you the brave one?" said Jenny. "I kind of expected truth the first round, like last time. Well, I was going to ask what that gold is, but I guess I'll just have to see for myself. I dare you to take off that chemise."
“That's not much of a dare," said Stephanie, tossing off her dress. "I'm a mini. I'm naked more often than not."
Stephanie looked even younger than her seventeen years. She was smooth as a baby, with pale skin that looked like it had never seen the sun—or a blemish. Blemishes tended to shrink more than normal skin, but it was partly due to expert application of high-quality makeup.
Also, Stephanie had been a vegetarian since she was six years old — after visiting a petting farm — and an all-vegetable diet tended to cause girls to develop more slowly. She had not been long in puberty before she got minned. The minning had not only halted that development, but slightly reversed it, though most of those effects were internal. Other than some nicely-developed breasts, Stephanie was the picture of an innocent sprite.
She did a little pirouette and bowed.
"What's that supposed to be?" asked Jenny, pointing to the gold design painted on Stephanie's chest.
"Painted circuitry," said Stephanie. "It's a tracking device that's a lot harder to remove than a collar."
Jenny looked surprised, the scowled. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth," said Stephanie, grinning.
"What's that supposed to be?"
"A lightning bolt. My character's a storm giant."
Jenny snorted, then that sunk in. In a way, it was even more unbelievable than her first story. Playing with bigs was one thing – that was pretty much what minis were for – but a giant? The boys’ faces told her it was true. She looked up at Toby. "Why don't we ever do anything like that?"
Toby shrugged. "You never asked."
She looked back at Stephanie. "Sorry. I took two turns. I'll take truth."
Stephanie shook her head. "Not ‘til we're even. You didn't get any turns before."
Again, Jenny was surprised. She thought back to the party two years ago. It had obviously made more of an impression on Stephanie than it had on her.
"Master," she asked Toby, "may I sit?"
"Oh, sure. Sorry. Make yourself at home."
That meant she was pretty much free to do whatever she wanted, even leave the room, without asking Toby first. They were casual at home, usually.
"You have a lovely home," said Joyce. She looked down at Margaret in her cage, as she said this. Margaret sat on her couch with her hands now free. They had just briefly toured the house, but now Joyce was being intentionally ambiguous whether she meant the whole house, or just the cage. Margaret didn't rise to the bait. "Thank you, Joyce."
Richard brought the last of their luggage into the room. It was just a couple of bags and something tall that was covered by a white cloth. "That's the last of it. Slave driver." "Sorry, dear. I'll make it up to you." They kissed and embraced. Then Richard unhooked her pearls and unzipped the back of her dress. "Bath or shower?" he asked. "Oh, bath. Definitely." Richard went to run it, while Joyce began putting away her jewelry and to finish undressing. Like most women, she dressed and undressed more slowly than her husband.
Margaret found the scene hauntingly familiar, she remembered having almost the exact same conversation and actions with James, not too many years ago. Baby Michael had been in his crib, just a few feet from where she sat now. She felt infantilized. That thought made her pout, and the irony of that wasn't lost on her either. She started to say something, but Joyce just said, "Shhh, let mommy get ready for her bath." Margaret fumed, and grew strangely aroused.
Naked, Joyce reached into Margaret’s cage. She lifted the shirt off Margaret, unnecessarily using two hands, then she lifted Margaret up to her bosom. She had beautiful DD cup breasts. Margaret was sure she must have had work done; nature was never that kind to fifty-year-old women, but she couldn't tell for sure. Someone did very good work, whether it was God or some doctor. She wasn't sure if she was expected to suckle, so for now she contented herself to be cradled while Joyce walked to the bath.
"Do my boobs intimidate you?"
Stephanie gave Jenny a side-long look. "My mom's got big tits. And I hate to disappoint you, but Misty's are way bigger, even at scale."
"And how close up have you seen your mom's tits—since puberty—or since you were ten, if you haven't hit that yet."
"Don't be gross, Jenny," said Stephanie, ignoring the dig. "I've stood on the dresser, while she changes – about as close as I am to you now."
"Yeah well, I think it's got to be a little more intimidating, knowing that you’re going to get closer. And what about Misty's?"
Stephanie's face was the picture of innocence. "Misty's... I've actually been inside Misty's. She just lifts them up like this... pops out the silicone, and I crawl right in. It's very cozy."
There was a loud bump, as Danny barely caught himself from falling. He had been sitting a bit too far forward in his chair.
Jenny got the game. If she asked a question without getting a 'truth', Stephanie would make up an outrageous lie. She had scored a small point, getting Stephanie to say even an innocuous truth about her mother. She settled back into the little chair she had made herself by, stuffing a pillow partially under the couch. The pillow was her seat, and the front of the couch made the back of her chair. She motioned Stephanie to come closer. "Truth or dare."
"Truth.... Wait!" said Stephanie. "If you're about to ask about Misty, I won't answer. It's one thing to pry my secrets, and another to get my friends'. And no, that doesn't confirm she has any secrets; it's just a general rule."
Jenny shook her head. "Not the way it works. You don't have to answer – but there's a penalty."
She straightened her legs and crooked her finger. The penalty was simple: five spanks. Stephanie had been the only one to pay that penalty two years ago, for refusing to allow Jenny to.... It wasn't that much of a penalty, anyway, and Stephanie was proud that, both then and now, she took the spanking to protect someone else. She wondered if she was going to get the same dare again tonight—with their positions reversed. And if she did, would she do it—or take the spanking again? This time she wouldn't be protecting someone else. She'd just be wimping out.
Jenny was not rough with the spanking. She hadn't planned to be anyway, but as she looked at their audience, she was glad that she had decided to be gentle.
"You know," she said, "I was going to go easy on you because we're in a room full of guys. But now, I'm looking around, and I see a room full of mother hens. They all look ready to pounce if I get out of line. Even Toby! You know, you're my guardian, not hers! How do you do it, Steph? Why are all the guys so protective of you? Am I not small enough?"
"Well," said Stephanie, standing and resisting the urge to rub her bottom, "we've all been friends a long time. But you don't have to worry about them. I... I'll do anything you had to do. They won't interfere."
Jenny arched an eyebrow. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to sit in my lap, like a baby."
"It's been a long time since I had a little girl in the bath with me." said Joyce. She held Margaret in her lap, as she washed her.
"I know," said Richard, sitting next to her in the large tub. "And you look as beautiful today as you did then." He alternated between kissing Joyce passionately and kissing Margaret more playfully. Of course, it would have been physically impossible to give Margaret the same kind of passionate kisses he gave Joyce. But aside from that, he and Joyce were acting like a loving couple - with a baby in the bath with them. At first, Margaret had been off put by the infantilization. But as she got into it, she liked it more and more. She felt secure, protected, loved.
"We'd better get her out of here, before she and I both turn into prunes," said Joyce.
Richard unstopped the drain, then got out of the tub and began to dry off. Joyce ran fresh warm water into her hand and used that to rinse off Margaret. Then she handed her to Richard.
He laid her on a folded towel on the counter and brought the sides up around her to pat her dry. "Thank you," he said. "This has brought back memories – happy times of new fatherhood. But I'm ready to move on to more grown-up activities. You?"
"Mmmm Hmmm," Margaret moaned, lounging on her terry cloth bed.
Richard kissed and nuzzled her and tentatively touched her body with the tip of his giant tongue. She arched her back to bring her breasts up to meet him, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose.
That was too much work in her present state, so she lay back and just made cooing noises and moved enough to let him know that she liked what he was doing. Richard drew designs in saliva on her torso and slowly worked his way downward until he got to a spot that he didn't want to leave. Soon he brought her to her first orgasm of the evening. It was a blessed relief to Margaret, having spent most of the evening, and much of the day, on the cusp, in anticipation.
Recovering, Margaret looked up and saw Joyce and Richard towering over her, smiling. She was struck by her own sense of deja vu. "I know what you mean,” she said. “For a moment, it was like I was looking at me and James, standing over Michael. Don't get me wrong; the closest we ever came to that was giving him zubers!"
She looked at Joyce and added, "and that was the closest I ever came to having breasts like yours--back when I was...."
"Breast feeding? What... who?" Stephanie asked, then gave a sheepish look. "I guess that was a dumb question."
"Why?" asked Danny, breaking the unspoken vow of silence all the guys had been keeping. He looked back and forth between Jenny and her master.
"For one thing, it's very healthy—for both of us," Jenny answered. "The longer a woman breast feeds, the lower her chances of breast cancer. Everyone knows that. And I look good—two cup sizes up, relatively speaking. And even though they look big on me, they only weigh a few ounces. I'll never sag. And I look like I'm stretched more than I really am, too. I bounce right back into shape when I dry up.
And I'll never have children, so this helps me feel maternal. So why wouldn't I?"
"Because it's... weird!" said Danny.
"Then you should write a letter to Little Miss Sunshine and suggest that minis stop doing something that makes them prettier, happier and healthier, and helps them bond with their guardians, because you think it's weird. Better hurry, it's becoming more popular all the time. While you're at it, you might want to lobby to get all those laws and rulings that let mothers nurse in public places overturned."
She smiled to let him know that she wasn't really angry, just a little put out.
"Oh, and did I mention that it's very good for the masters too? There are whole books on the benefits of breast milk. Toby hasn't had a sniffle in a year. You've heard the expression: like mother's milk to him? Well, it really is." She looked down at Stephanie, cradled in her lap. "Truth or dare?"
Stephanie gulped. "Dare?" she said, uncertainly.
"Danny, you might want to leave the room," said Jenny.
He didn't.
The nipple barely fit in her mouth, but she gave it her best effort. Margaret first positioned herself so that she could use her legs and feet to massage Joyce's left breast, while she hugged and sucked on the right. But then she sat up, so that she could wrap both her arms and legs around the one she was sucking. She took a quick break and leaned back, twisting herself, so she could take the other nipple in her mouth. She did this for many minutes, alternating from one breast to the other.
While Margaret focused on Joyce’s tits, Richard caressed and kissed her lips – alternating from one set of lips to the other. Finally, he intensified his efforts on her clitoris, until he was rewarded with a massive shudder and moan.
Richard laid back on the bed. After taking a moment to recover, Joyce wrapped her thumb and finger around Margaret’s waist and lifted her up. There was a quiet 'pop' as she was pulled away from the nipple. Joyce set her down on Richard's penis to let her give him similar treatment. She watched the tiny woman for a while, then got up. She moved behind Margaret and started massaging her with lotion. Margaret loved the sensation of being massaged while massaging Richard. Soon she also became very slippery, which added to both their pleasure.
"Margaret, look at me," said Richard. That reminded her of Dave Conner, but only a little. There was no glare in her eyes this time, no chance that Richard would say, never mind, just do your work. They basked in the beauty of each other's faces and each other's pleasure. Richard knew that he got the better deal. For one thing, he was sure that she was prettier to him than he was to her. For another, he could also see the beautiful face of his wife, looking gigantic behind the tiny elf. Joyce continued to massage Margaret and move her around--using Margaret to massage Richard. Occasionally, she would bend close and kiss or lick Margaret’s head or back or both. A few times she licked low enough to touch Richard with the tip of her tongue, behind and below Margaret.
"Look only at me, Margaret. Don't look at Joyce until I say so--even if you need to talk to her, understand?" Margaret nodded. "Think you can handle something more... intense? Indulge your submissive side?" Margaret nodded again. Wasn't she already? Joyce got off the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret could see her uncover whatever it was they had brought. She tried to focus on Richard, concentrate on his head—heads. Fortunately, they were both right in front of her. Look down, lick; look up, smile.
"Do you like being a mini?"
Stephanie had to think about that. "A week ago, I called it my living nightmare. But that wasn't really true. I was already having some fun, with the cheer squad and all. And it's sweet the way Jackson takes care of me. I'm never lonely; he won't let me be. And this week I've had a lot of fun. I'd still be restored if I could, but there's a lot to be said for it. Good enough?"
Jenny nodded. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to... do your sexiest cheer routine for us."
Stephanie felt very self-conscious about that one. Usually she'd at least wear body paint, and her audience would be more than a dozen yards away. No one could tell body paint from a leotard on her, from more than a few feet away. But it was a fair dare.
"You'll have to stand up. I need an assistant for parts of it."
She started with some standard cheers, leaps, and splits. Her audience especially liked the jumping jacks and airplane jumps. Michael and Dexter looked embarrassed, turned on, but embarrassed; but she smiled at them, and they smiled back. She worried that Michael might be feeling a bit jealous. She knew she should discourage that; she wasn't his – girlfriend or mini. But she didn't have the heart to hurt his feelings in front of his friends, so instead she focused on him and pretended that she was doing the cheers just for him.
[i]“Pick that pocket! Trick that troll! Hide in shadows! Make that roll!”[/i] The guys all laughed at her impromptu cheer.
She had Jenny stand with her arms outstretched. She leaped into her right hand and did somersaults up her arm, across her back and down to her left hand. She had misgivings doing this with such a small partner but, like her, Jenny was stronger than she looked. The handstand behind Jenny's head had a very different look than usual. A lot more of her was visible than just her legs, so it didn't look like antennae coming from the back of Jenny's head; it looked like what it was, the lower half of a naked girl. But she doubted anyone would complain. From there, she did a backwards half flip, landing just in front of Jenny. Bringing one leg back, she knelt on one knee and stretched out her arms in a final 'ta da'. Her arms bumped into Jenny's legs, which were to either side of her, reminding her that this was a smaller partner than she was used to.
"Don't move but look up." She froze with her hands clasped above her head. She was doing a houri dance – or, as she thought of it, the 'I Dream Of Jeanie' dance. Nervously, she looked up... and up. Joyce towered over her like a skyscraper. Margaret noticed the symmetry of their positions. She was kneeling with her legs on either side of Richard, and so was Joyce—directly above her. She could only see her face because she was leaning over to see Margaret.
"Margaret, darling," said Joyce, soothingly, "you know you don't have to do anything you don't want." Margaret nodded.
"OK, I need you to help me with some final calibrations. Here, breathe through this tube, in through the tube, out around it or through your nose." She put the end of a plastic tube into Margaret’s mouth. She noted approvingly that Margaret still had not moved from the position she had frozen in when Richard said, "Don't move."
The end of the tube was shaped like a mouth guard, so Margaret could easily hold it. Joyce leaned over and made some adjustments on the monitoring device beside her. Soon an oscilloscope was undulating, lights were blinking, and it made a soft beeping noise, all in time with Margaret’s breath.
"Open." Joyce removed the tube from Margaret’s mouth and counted to five. Alarms began to sound. She replaced the tube and it quieted down, returning to its steady beep beep. "Blow. Hard," she said, and again the alarm sounded.
"Good. Remember, five seconds without a breath, and the alarm will sound. Blow hard, and the alarm will sound."
Margaret was nervous and excited. Joyce was as intimidating as ever or even more so. Margaret should have known she was up to something, massaging her with oil. Joyce could be very generous and giving, but it seemed she almost always had ulterior motives for her good deeds, preferring to "do well, while doing good."
Joyce's face retreated from view. It was the moment of....
"Truth or.... Just choose truth, OK? There's something I want to ask you."
This should be the last round, and Stephanie had been dreading it. She was relieved, but... "You sure? I told you, I'll do everything you had to do at the party."
"You've done everything but one. And a. i. r. you took a penalty, rather than be the one that made me do that. I'd be a rat to make you do it now. And yeah, I had to do everything you girls said, but I didn't have to become a mini.
"Oh, and b. t. w., I had fun at the party." Jenny smiled.
Stephanie was relieved. She had said that it would be easier to do humiliating things in front of guys she trusted than girls she didn't, but.... She looked up at Michael, gave a sigh of relief and said, "Truth."
"Are you in love with Michael?"
"What? How? Why...?"
"Well, Toby and Mike have been friends a long time. Not super close, but friends. And everyone knows Mike’s crazy about you."
"And crazy is the right word there—having a crush on the brilliant, beautiful, rich girl, who's over a year older than him. Girl, you were so far out of his league—and imho, still are—he has to be either crazy or stupid. And I know he's not stupid.
"But then I see the way you've been looking at him all night, and I think maybe he's not so crazy either. So... inquiring minds want to know."
Stephanie was taken off guard. She tried to think what to say and how to say it, but she was also distracted by what Jenny had said. She didn't think of herself as better than other people and certainly not out of Michael's league. She was a little offended. She didn't know anyone who was out of Michael's league. "I, well, I do love him...."
"Uh uh, I said 'in' love. I love lots of people. I love my mom and dad, even if they do think I was nuts to become a mini. And I love Toby, but I'm not 'in' love with him. Thank goodness. That would be kind of awkward, you know?"
"Exactly, I mean, maybe someday I could be his mini, but I can't ever be his lover. I can't cook his meals or bear his children or... be his wife."
"And he's a really great 'just a friend', isn't he?" said Jenny, sarcastically.
Stephanie glared.
"Don't you think he deserves an honest answer?” Jenny asked. “Or do you just want to take the penalty?"
"Fine." Said Stephanie, angrily. "'In' love. Yes. I'm in love with him. But I don't see how that changes anything." She looked at Michael as she said that.
Michael stood up, with a grim and determined expression on his face, He walked slowly over to Stephanie and grabbed her around the waist. He lifted the tiny girl up to his face.
Stephanie struggled. Just because she was in love with him didn't mean she wanted him to manhandle her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted a kiss right now.
"I'm claiming this mini," said Michael, "this unattended, untagged and uncollared mini, under the Mini Guardian Act."
He smiled. “You are mine, tiny girl.”
"Michael! Stop fooling around. You can't do that. I'm already in your charge! Now put me down and apologize, or I'm telling Jackson."
"I'm sorry."
"What for?" said Joyce.
"I didn't pull out. I came inside you."
"Oh well, you weren't the only one."
Margaret blushed. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you could be pregnant?"
"It's highly unlikely. I was never very fertile; you notice we only have the two children. And at my age...."
"You don't use precautions?"
"We're Mormons."
Margaret almost laughed, but she knew that would be rude. Religious rules didn't have to make since.
"Still, it's exciting to think that I might have been in on it, from the beginning, so to speak."
"Well," said Richard. "It is even possible that [i]you[/i] could be pregnant."
"What!!!"
"That's right," said Michael. "Jackson loaned you to me, Monday night. And he loaned you to Misty, Wednesday night. But today he just ran off and said, 'you guys have fun.' That's very irresponsible. Guardians have to be responsible, or what's the point of having them? And look at you. What are you wearing? Earrings, a little splash of gold on your chest and a smile—well, you had a smile. No collar or other ID. It's like you're begging to be claimed."
"You... you took my collar off!"
"Uh, actually, I did," said Dexter. "Michael just mentioned that it didn't go with your persona."
Stephanie glared. "Michael, you're being ridiculous. You know you can't make it stick. And if you could, would you really betray Jackson that way? He looks up to you. He trusted you!"
"Yeah. I guess I should call him and smooth things out."
"What? I'm a mini! I'm not even ovulating! How could I get pregnant?"
"Well," said Richard, "if an egg traveled into the lower areas—and Joyce is prone to that, that's why she's not very fertile—then it could get sucked into you, say during a powerful orgasm. You didn't have one of those did you?"
Richard grinned. "Grad student at Cal Tech made a computer model of the possibility. Under the best conditions, the odds are about one in twenty million. I don't think you need to rush to the clinic."
Margaret was stunned. Then she sighed. "I guess that's for the best. Full-size egg, full-size sperm. I'd look like I swallowed an inflatable raft."
"It doesn't work that way," said Joyce. "The same effect that shrinks the microbes in your body, and any internal parasites you pick up after you’re minned, would cause the fetus to develop in miniature."
"So, the baby would be born a mini?"
"Technically a midget," said Richard. "Legally, one can't be born a mini."
"Want to try again. Double your odds, to one in ten million? What do you think?"
"Pretty good. Everyone loved her outfit. That lightning effect worked great. Look, the reason I called, I just claimed Stephanie as my mini. I know I should have asked you first but.... Well, sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. … Huh? I'm not sure. She's acting real mad at me, but I think she's mostly just worried about you – ya know? … Yeah, same here. You want to talk in private, or can I put you on speaker? The other guys are right here. … Okay."
"Jackson?" said Stephanie.
"Sorry, Steph. Sounds like I got careless."
"The whole thing is just stupid. He can't make it stick."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, I'll just demand to be put up for adoption. I don't think he's jerk enough to hit us up for the adoption fee." She glared at Michael.
"Well, if I have to drive you out to your grandmother's, I should get a dollar for gas money."
"See, Steph," said Jackson. "All you have to do is say you don't want to be his mini, in front of witnesses."
"That's right," said Stephanie, crossing her arms in satisfaction.
"But Stephanie?"
"Yes, Jackson?"
"Would that be true?"
Stephanie didn’t say anything.
"I've been a pretty good guardian, haven't I?"
Stephanie nodded without thinking that he couldn't see it.
"I mean it's almost been like I was your giant, more than you were my mini. Right?"
"Yes," she said.
"Then you gotta be honest. You owe me that." He paused a moment, then he said, "I just want you happy."
Stephanie walked up to the phone and pushed the speaker-off button.
"I love you, baby brother," she whispered.
"Love you too, big sister. Hey, Michael!"
"Wait. He can't hear you." She motioned for Michael to take the phone.
"You better take care of my sister."
"I will, Jackson. You know that,” said Michael. “See you tomorrow, okay?"
"Now comes the hard part," Michael said, turning off the phone.
"Having an uppity mini?"
"Telling your mom and dad."
"Hello?"
"Hi, Mom. I've got Michael on speaker. Can you put Dad and Mrs. Kincaide on?"
"Your father's right here, but Margaret is, uh, lying down. Yes, I hate to get her out—of bed. She seems very comfy, in kind of a oh, oh, fetal position. What? Oh, I've got something in my... the oven. I'm worried about overheating. What's the trouble? . . . Oh, he did! Pretty daring, considering the position his mother's in. No. I wouldn't really hold her—too long. And what did Jackson say? … Oh. Well, we could probably fight it, but you know we won't. You'll be back by twelve, right. That beeping? Uh, uh, that's my casserole. I've got to come, uh go, get Margaret. I need her. One at the very latest! By! Yie, Yie...."
"Cooking?" said Stephanie. "I tell ya. Adulthood is wasted on the old." She stepped on the phone's off button. "What now, O Master?"
"Now, Milady? We forge on. To the caves of the hill giants! Adventure awaits!"
"That was... wonderful," said Joyce, sprawling on her back beside Richard, Margaret sprawled across her chest. She used two fingers to slide Margaret up closer to her mouth
"Oh, and that was our children on the phone. It seems they've made an end run around guardian supervision."
It took Margaret a moment to register what Joyce was saying. Giant lips and tongue were buffeting her and caressing her, and Joyce's words were broken by kisses, licks and nibbles. "What do you mean? They made love?"
Margaret couldn't think what they might have done that Stephanie would feel the need to call and confess.
"Worse. Michael claimed her as his own mini."
"What!? That's, that's.... I'm sure I should be angry or apologizing or something. But all I can think is, that’s wonderful!" The idea of Stephanie coming to live with her and Michael sounded.... "Oh! Joyce, Richard, I don't know what to say."
"We are going to have some logistics to work out," said Richard.
"Let's worry about it in the morning," said Joyce.