SW Flash Fiction Anthology

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FifteencentiKim
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Sat May 09, 2020 5:12 am

And a BIG Thank You to Bobascher for his Collage inspired by my flash fiction piece "Big Cargo'"!
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 11, 2020 12:08 pm

(Inspired by the collage below from JoshTheCyborg)

Photo Chase

"Not in here," a loud voice bellowed from two hundred meters away.

Or what would have been two hundred meters away for Naomi before whatever happened, happened.

It had been the last day of the shoot, and Naomi was glad it was going to over soon. She was literally starving, and the only thing she could think of was a huge cheeseburger and a pineapple shake at the little burger shack just half a kilometer from where the photoshoot was. The fries absolutely soaked the paper they were served in with grease. Just the thought of them was enough to make Naomi go Pavlovian!

Naomi and the other models were doing a fantasy cheerleader spread for one of the racy but not quite pornographic magazines aimed at boys in their late teens to early twenties. The photographer taking her photo was literally salivating, promising her that she was bound to get a page all to herself. Frankly, Naomi didn't care. She just wanted all of this to over so she could salivate over hamburger buns, rather than have someone salivate over her buns.

Then there was a flash, and the world disappeared.

When the world reappeared, Naomi found herself standing on a giant, glossy magazine, opened up in the middle, and staring at a room full of giant eighteen year old boys, who were all staring slack jawed down at her.

"Holy shit, it worked!" one of the boys remarked.

Outside of that one observation, nobody in the room said or did anything. They just stared from their various perspectives.

Until one of the boys yelled out, "Enough of this bullshit. Let's see that bitch NAKED!"

To this day, Naomi couldn't tell you how what happened, happened. She was in good shape, but she wasn't an Olympic Athlete or anything. And she was literally malnourished over the last few days in preparation for the photoshoot.

But when the boys moved on her, she jumped. As in jumped several times her body height jumped. And ran faster than was humanly possible. The chase scene almost resembled the talk show scene from "V for Vendetta" scene, with the boys running and stumbling into each other. Finally, Naomi was able to get out of the room and escape into the main part of the house.

It was probably a normal middle income family home, but from Naomi's diminished height, and add the fact she was being chased by a group of giant, horny adolescent males, it took on nightmarish proportions.

When she heard the giant thudding of footsteps running toward her, Naomi slid under one of the doors.

And found herself in the nightmare world of Chet Baxton.

She knew it was Chet Baxton's room because it had his name all over the place, along with such admonishments as "Touch and Die."

It was probably her shrunken size talking, but she felt she would die if she did touch any of Chet's stuff. She almost wet herself when she looked up and saw an aquarium with scorpions in it. Who the fuck kept scorpions?

Naomi was about to roll back under the door when she hear footsteps just outside of it. She looked around the room, looking for the least threatening place to hide, when she was a Barbie doll wearing a pink dress standing on a night table. That one little innocent item in this room freaked her out more than anything else.

"This room is clear too," a voice boomed out from outside the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Naomi climbed/leaped to the table stood by the Barbie doll, and tried to remain as still as possible, hoping to get mistaken for a fashion doll herself.

"Go check out Chet's room," a voice boomed.

"I'm not going to go in there," a second voice boomed. "Your brother Chet creeps me out. You go in there. He's your brother."

"Yeah, well, he's your cousin," the first voice responded. "And I'm busy searching the vents. Now stop being a pussy and go look."

Naomi remained frozen in place as the door opened, revealing an eighteen year old boy wearing a jacket with a letter. In normal circumstances, Naomi would have said the kid wasn't bad looking, in that clean cut apple pie way, if it wasn't for the fact that he was a member of the pack of young men hunting her down.

The boy was obviously nervous as his eyes scanned over the room, and Naomi held herself perfectly still. As soon as his eyes swept over her body, though, Naomi knew she hadn't fooled him.

But then he did the strangest thing. The boy held a single finger over his lips. He then cautiously approached her and, as soon as he stood next to her, he bent his knees so that the side pocket of his sports jacket was level with Naomi, then used his hands to spread open the pocket with his hands.

When Naomi looked up at him with a "WTF" look in her eyes, he made a small jerking motion with his head.

"You find anything, Wayne?" a voice boomed from outside the room.

"Just that Chet is one creepy ass motherfucker," Wayne yelled back. "She's not in here."

"Well, don't leave anything out of place," the voice from outside the room yelled back.

Wayne made the jerking motion with his head again. Not knowing why she was doing it, and not knowing if she had any better options, Naomi climbed into Wayne's pocket. As soon as she did, Wayne straightened out and walked out of the room.

What the hell is going on? Naomi wondered, as she tried to get comfortable, wondering how long all this nightmare was going to go on.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 11, 2020 2:00 pm

jeffrey-dallas wrote:
Sat Apr 18, 2020 2:45 pm
Ah, Flirtacia... :)
I will be coming back to revisit her, Jeff! ;)

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Tue May 12, 2020 11:09 pm

(Once again, a big thank you to Babascher for giving me an inspiration!)

Puzzling manhood

"Chestito!" Uncle Todor wished me with a slap on the shoulder that threatened to break my collarbone. I just smiled and nodded as Uncle Todor made his way back to the main part of the party. The party to celebrate my eighteenth birthday.

There are two birthdays that the extended Borisov clan celebrates for all its children: the eighteenth birthday party for its male children, and the thirteenth for its female children. And when I say extended, I mean extended. There are seven Borisovs who immigrated from the "old country" seventy years ago. They're all still alive, five men and two women, their ages ranging from eighty-four to seventy-one, with all seven looking like they were good for another twenty-five years. And the extended Borisov clan is anyone who is descended from those original sevens, married one of those descendants or even smiled at one of those descendants in passing.

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but not by much. I was adopted in my father's first marriage, stayed with my mother when he got remarried, and only stayed with his new family once a month. But the greater Borisov family still considered me one of theirs.

Which is why they were throwing me an eighteenth birthday party. Okay, granted, having large hairy men calling me Mikhail instead of Mike while continuously slamming their huge meat hooks on my shoulder and compacting my spine by several centimeters was not my idea of fun. On the other hand, the gift table for these things always included envelopes with huge wads of cash, so I could afford a chiropractor after all this was over, with plenty of money to spare.

And then there was Aunt Marta.

Actually, I'm not sure what relation Aunt Marta to me. I think she's a second cousin-in-law twice removed or something. But she's Aunt Marta to everyone. Even the original Seven call her Aunt Marta.

And Aunt Marta always gave the most unusual gifts. They were legendary.

Her presents also had more twists than a M. Night Shyamalan film.

So I was looking forward to her present with both expectation and trepidation.

I didn't have long to wait.

One of my cousins directed me to a side room where Aunt Marta waited.

I'm not sure how old Aunt Marta is. She bears a remarkable resemblance to how Sophia Loren looked when she was in her fifties, but she's always looked like that. I mean, in all the family photos, if you look to where she's standing in the corner of the picture, she always looks the same.

Aunt Marta was sitting behind a walnut desk when I entered. She gave me an enigmatic smile as she gestured for me to take a seat.

"An eighteenth birthday, Michael," she said. I wasn't surprised by Aunt Marta's use of my proper name. She was always correct in her speech, and usually knew more than you would be comfortable with, if you knew the extent of her knowledge. "A momentous occasion, marking the advent of a young man's future. Also marking the advent when a young man begins unraveling the puzzle of his future."

Cryptic words, even for Aunt Marta. I wondered what she meant.

Without a further word, she produced a small wrapped present that fit perfectly in her palm. She touched one side of the present, and the wrapping on that side of the present disappeared.

Revealing a tiny.

I had heard of tinies before. Who hasn't? in popular fiction, they were young, beautiful women, reduced by magic or science, depending on the genre, to a height of fifteen centimeters, give or take a centimeter. Tinies would have been relegated to the realm of other cryptozoological creatures, if it hadn't been for the Lewes skeleton.

After that discovery forty years ago, and the inability of scientific community to debunk it, evidence of tinies started popping up all over the place. Of course, it was the same evidence you got with UFOs. Grainy pictures, second hand accounts, recovered memories of being shrunken...that sort of thing,

But here was an actual tiny woman. A nude tiny woman. With a collar, numbers written on her face and body, and the oddest fingernail polish color.

All of the details I got in a flash, because almost as soon as the side of the present disappeared, it appeared again. And the tiny woman vanished with its reappearance.

Aunt Marta reached over, took my hand, put the present in my palm, then leaned back after doing so.

"Each night, starting tomorrow night, when the sun has set and you are in your bed alone...and you have to be alone," Aunt Marta emphasized, "You can say the words Aughtvorettasusamn, and the package will open. Can you repeat that for me?"

"Aughtvorettasusamn," I repeated. I repeated the word a few more times until Aunt Marta was satisfied I had memorized the correct pronunciation. "Is that..." I began to ask.

"Older," she replied. "You will only have five minutes to talk to the young lady within, before the present is made whole and she's put into stasis again. You'll have to calm her down. It may take several sessions. And you'll need to examine her, to decipher the clues on her body. A bit difficult, since only one side of the package will open. But if you want to unlock the package, unlock the cage and unlock the puzzle..."

"What puzzle?" I asked. I was...well, puzzled, for lack of a better word.

"Time for you to get back to the party, Michael," Aunt Marta said, giving me a shooing motion. "They'll be wheeling out that huge Torta Garash soon. And even if it is to celebrate your birthday, you know the Borisovs. They won't leave a sweet like that unmolested for long."

I wanted to ask more questions, but Aunt Marta has a force of will that you can't resist. The next thing I knew, I was standing outside of the room, my hand in my jacket pocket clutching the present she had given me. With a sigh, I removed my hand from my pocket and made my way to the cake table. There was nothing I could do until tomorrow night anyway.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by Bobascher » Wed May 13, 2020 2:27 am

I love it!

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Wed May 13, 2020 4:18 pm

(A flash fiction merger of the first season of Lynda Carter's Wonder Woman and Jessica Lange's King Kong)

Wondrously Large Ape

Steve was too late.

He, Wonder Woman, and a select group of American and British commandos, had been wandering around the Indian Ocean eliminating Nazi and Japanese spy bases. The heroic actions of all, and especially Wonder Woman, had prevented both the Nazis and the Japanese from implementing fifth column plans against Allied forces in Africa and southern Asia.

A celebratory mood had settled on the USS Roanoke, the small, specially equipped spyship that had been transporting the group. It felt like that they were accomplishing something, and that the end of the war was in sight.

Then they discovered the island.

It was an uncharted island, but that wasn't unusual. The Pacific and Indian Oceans had tons of uncharted islands. This one, though, was a fairly large island to go unmapped. And it seemed to be shrouded in a perpetual fog.

The natives were...well, not hostile, but not friendly. They seemed to taken with Wonder Woman though. They evened offered four of their top maidens for her. This got a laugh from everyone, even Wonder Woman.

They should have left then and there.

Instead, they decided to stay a night in the island's big lagoon, and chart the waters around the island the next day. There didn't seem to be any enemy activity in the area, but for future navigation and investigation, it wouldn't hurt to gather some more information.

Some time during the night, a group of natives managed to slip on board undetected and make it to a sleeping Wonder Woman's cabin. They drugged her before she could react. Steve didn't discover Wonder Woman's abduction until the next morning, where he discovered her lasso, bracelets and, most importantly, her belt on the bed. Steve was the only other person on the ship besides Wonder Woman herself that the Amazonian was powerless without her belt.

The commandos had launched an immediate rescue mission to save Wonder Woman, but it was too late.

Because of...of...whatever that thing was.

The commandos had come in guns blazing, but not before that giant...it looked like a gorilla but gorillas didn't reach seventy something feet in height.

Diana had been tied to some altar thing, her hands bound by ivy on two different poles. And then that giant ape appeared, growled, grabbed Wonder Woman and disappeared into the jungle,.

After the giant ape disappeared, the natives were easy to subdue, but the damage was done. Wonder Woman was gone.

"What are we going to do, Colonel?" one of the grizzled sergeants attached to the special unit asked.

"We're going to set up a base, question the natives, and then we're going to rescue Wonder Woman," Steve said decisively. "And no giant monkey is going to get in our way."

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Tue May 19, 2020 12:45 am

Image

(Another flash fiction crossover foray into Jessica Lange's King Kong)

Small miscalculation

Lara had gotten into a lot of scrapes in her life, but there were very, very few times where she had felt she had completely and totally misjudged a situation.

This was one of them.

A rumor of a hint of a story had led her to an uncharted, fog shrouded island in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

She had had some initial problems with the natives, including having them trying to sneak drugs into her drinks. Eventually, though, she came to an understanding, one which would get their leaders to take her to the treasure trove she was looking for.

She just had to get through this "matrimonial" ceremony.

One of the figures in the native pantheon was a giant ape, supposedly twenty two meters tall. From what Lara could tell, the native tribe wanted to marry her off to this 'Kong' of theirs. They actually wanted her to put on a ceremonial gown of some kind. Lara put a nix on that, if for no other reason than she didn't want to go sans underwear in front of hundred plus strangers.

She allowed them to bind her wrists, but only because she made sure the knots were just loose enough that she could get out of them and at her guns in the blink of an eye. When one of the priests put on a gorilla mask, she was prepared to do just that, in case the man in question decided to be the surrogate groom for the honeymoon. But all the dancers kept their distance. In fact, only the female dancers came into physical contact with her as they took her to the bridal altar.

They used vines to tie Lara's bound wrists above her head. And then they left.

Lara hoped she didn't have to wait too long for the ceremony to be over. Then she could get down to the "tomb raiding" she had come to this island for.

The dancers had wanted to point Lara out toward the jungle, but she had convinced them to let her face the village. That way she could gauge how much longer she had to wait.

As Lara waited, the ground began trembling. She could here tree limbs breaking behind her. And the villagers weren't looking at her anymore. They were looking somewhere behind her. And above her. Way, way above her.

That was when Lara realized she had read the situation wrong. Very, very wrong.

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Tue May 19, 2020 3:17 pm

(loosely based on a cartoon I saw recently but can't find now)

Speed dating fantasy

Imani was turning heads as she walked down the corridor, and was loving every minute of it. Part of it, of course, was the fact that she was one of the few dark-skinned attendees at the local SteamCon. The local evented tended to be a bit a Eurocentric. But mostly it was because she was hot, and looked even hotter provocatively dressed as a steampunk bounty hunter.

This was the seventh-annual local Steamcon, and Imani had attended each one, starting when she was a junior in high school. This one was special, though. This year, she had been involved in getting the event organized. Imani had recently graduate college with a degree in engineering, and had gotten her boss to help her get support from the local Chamber of Commerce. She'd managed to get one of those reality shows that dealt with bladesmithing to film an episode at the convention. And she also organized a hall entitled Steampunk Lilliput, where those who created steampunk figures and settings could set up their displays for their fellow steampunk enthusiasts to enjoy. Of course, Imani had a microphilia fetish, and one of the modelers had created a fifteen centimeter in her likeness in his miniature airship display, so she could pretend like the tiny figure was actually her, in a room full of giants.

At present, though, Imani wasn't indulging that fetish. She was heading to the first ever Steampunk Speed Dating event. She had filled out the form for the event the night before, and was excitedly looking forward to participating.

Imani found herself sitting across from a handsome blonde guy for the first round. He was dressed rather plainly for the SteamCon, not even wearing a T-Shirt with a Steampunk theme. Well, some people were a little bit embarrassed about their enthusiasm for steampunk, Imani reasoned. Maybe he didn't want people to suspect he was going to one.

After they exchanged a few pleasantries, he asked her, "So, what is your idea of the perfect date?"

"Well..." Imani began, a slight blush coming to her cheeks as one or two lurid images came unbidden to her mind.

"And it can't involve magic, robots, aliens, shrinking or tentacles," the guy hurriedly added

"Hey, I thought you said what was my idea of perfect date," Imani huffed.

Imania was happy that the bell rang quickly, so she could get to her next 'date.'

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Wed May 20, 2020 5:37 pm

"Science officer's log, Stardate 45617.86. I have entered my third week of gathering the data on the two android prototypes, though it would perhaps be better to define them as proofs of concept, inasmuch as each android prototype is only eighteen centimeters in height. Although the data gathered on both these proof of concepts by nonintrusive, passive means is interesting, it is my opinion that no further significant data can be gained without using more active examination methods. To that end, I have made another request to do so, and await a response to my requests. End log."

As soon as Jonathan finished his log entry, he sighed. He had already made two requests to do an "autopsy" on the two miniature androids almost within a week of beginning his examination of the two constructs. Both times he was denied. So he was forced to come up with new ways to "noninvasively" examine the two tiny androids, as well as review the multiple log entries from the ship that had recovered the two tiny androids, which were ultimately delivered to Jonathan's lab on Earth.

Jonathan had listened to the logs provided so often that he almost felt that he had been on the away teams on Exo Three and Mudd's Planet, as the latter planet was unofficially designated.

The only surviving android from Exo III was the miniature android that resembled the android designated Andrea. Lt. Commander Montgomery Scott had provided the miniature Alice that resembled the Alice series android on Mudd's planet. Neither was functional. And nothing Jonathan was allowed to do was making them operational. To make things more frustrating, his superiors weren't allowing him to take more active steps.

Even at their small size. the androids were amazing in the detail they possessed. Even with their clothes removed, both androids resembled humanoid females in every way. Very attractive humanoid females. And both were soft and malleable as if they were biological in nature, rather than artificial constructs.

But both might just as well have been dolls. Jonathan even suspected that if he was allowed to disassemble them, it would prove that they were just anatomically detailed dolls. and not androids at all.

With another dramatic sigh, Jonathon sent what he knew was a futile request. If they refused this one, Jonathan decided, he was going to suggest that the miniature androids be "shelved," and that he be assigned a different project.

Jonathan turned off his laboratory lights and headed home. Tomorrow was Friday, he thought with a smile. The lab rats were making a weekend trip to San Francisco. That was exactly what he needed to blow off steam from the frustrating experience of having been assigned a dead end project.

As Jonathan walked away from his lab, in the darkened room, the eyes of tiny Andrea and Alice simultaneously fluttered, then opened wide open.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by jeffrey-dallas » Thu May 21, 2020 12:37 am

My personal favourite was Rayna Kapec, as Louise Sorel was one of my dream girls when I grew up. She was the droid I was looking for... :D

Image
"You're like, really tiny."
"Thanks. I had no idea."

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Thu May 21, 2020 12:04 pm

Image
(Very loosely based on the Night Gallery episode 'Pickman's Model,' featuring Louise Sorel)


Dallas' Model

The scene opens on an oil painting composed entirely of shades of black and white. In it, a young woman is crouched in the palm of a giant gloved hand. Her hair is in disarray and a hat, presumably belonging to the young woman, lies elsewhere on the giant palm. Her attire shows that she is a young woman from an affluent Boston family, sometime around the beginning of the twentieth century, or perhaps the end of the nineteenth one. The features on her face show that she is clearly frightened, but there is something else in those features. Resignation, probably, determination, almost certainly. But somehow the eyes convey not only an acceptance of her fate, but perhaps, dare we say, an embracement?

The scene broadens, and we see two men standing on either side of the painting, both of Northern European descent, both wearing modern clothing, and both looking to be in their early to mid-thirties. On the right of the painting, there is a taller, younger, clean shaven man, smoking a pipe, who is addressing the man standing on the left of the painting, a shorter, stouter bearded man carrying a brown alcoholic drink of some kind.

As the scene expands, other paintings appear, but none have the same quality as the painting which was the primary focus of the opening.

"And I tell you, George, that this a Dallas. An actual Dallas! Can you imagine a Dallas being found after all these years?" the taller man begins excitedly.

George leans down, examining the painting. "If it's a forgery, Nate, I'll grant you that it's an excellent one. Even the name appears authentic. But I'm betting it's a forgery. There are only five known Dallas paintings in the world, and those were all taken from his one and only failed gallery opening a century ago. Every painting that's been discovered since then has been proven a fake."

"I'm telling you, George," Nate emphatically insists, "That it's real. I studied Dallas exclusively when I was getting my master's at Vee Cee, and this is a Dallas. Everything says it's a Dallas, from the funny way he signed the J on his signature, to the strokes and positioning he used for his thumb."

"If it is a Dallas, and all that is contingent on having it analyzed and studied," George says thoughtfully, "You could have a small fortune on your hands. The last public selling of a Dallas four years ago fetched half a million. Who knows what an authentic undiscovered Dallas could fetch?"

George rubs his chin thoughtfully before continuing. "I assume you would like my gallery to take care of it?"

Nate nods. "You've always handled my own paintings, George. I thought it would only be right that you have the opportunity to handle an undiscovered Dallas."

"If it is an authentic Dallas," George counters, thought there is a trace of excitement in his voice. Taking a sip from the drink in his hand, George asks, "How did you come into possession of this painting, anyway?"

Nate puffs on his pipe for a moment as the scene expands. The structure of the room indicates the two men are standing in an attic or loft of some kind.

"I found it when I bought this place," Nate explains, leading George away from the painting to a row of windows overlooking a nondescript neighborhood. The room has a look of being in a building that has not seen better days for a long time, if ever.

The room is revealed to be full of newer paintings, some incomplete, that are newer and brighter than the one that was the initial focus of the scene.

"I found it her right after I bought the place," Nate continues, lifting up the top of the built in seats that lined the windows, revealing an empty storage space inside. "Say, is the Dallas mine to sell?"

"If it is authentic," George re-emphasizes. "I would have to examine the contract you signed when purchasing the place, but unless there are specific provisions set in the contract, when you purchased this building, you purchased any items that the seller left on the premises at the signing of the contract. Since Dallas left no heirs when he disappeared a hundred years ago, the painting is yours to sell. Once its authenticity is established," George repeats.

The expression on Nate's face indicates a light bulb as turned on. "George, what do you know about the loft where Dallas did all his work?"

"The same as everyone else," George responds. "Not much. Everyone knew it was somewhere on the north side, within walking distance of where he---"

George stares incredulously at Nate. "You're not suggesting that..."

"Why not?" Nate responds. "This place has been boarded up for almost a century. It would have been the only thing affordable to a starving young artist a hundred years ago. The only reason the owner invested the minimum amount necessary to bring the building back up to code in order to sell itis that the neighborhood is being gentrified and increasing the value of the local real estate. Before that, this place was a slum even when it was first built. And it's in walking distance of that school where Dallas taught young ladies of good breeding how to draw and paint."

"It must have been galling to him," George noted, "But a man who wants to eat has to make compromises."

With that pronouncement, the scene starts to fade.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Sat May 23, 2020 12:43 pm

(A little flash fiction inspired by a discussion in the SW in the media forum)

Tiny setback

The official line from Katy Perry's publicist, the one that Katy herself echoed, was the divorce was due to Russell Brand's lack of support for her busy schedule and his intimidation at her success. Russell and his people had their own spin on things, but basically it was the same reason as given by Katy. It was what everyone believed, including their closest friends and family members.

The real reason was a bit more bizarre. Katy could not forgive Russell's inability to shrink her.

Katy's foray into the world of microphilia began unexpectedly during the early part of her Hello Katy Tour. Unable to sleep, and not wanting any company, Katy retreated to her room and started flipping through the channels, primarily looking for something to serve as white noise. She paused when she found a television show from the 1960s called "Land of the Giants." The scene was a pair of humans trying to hide from giants at least ten times their size. Katy watched with rapt fascination as the tinier humans were caught and then taped down. She found herself becoming aroused when one of the humans, a very pretty buxom, was probed first with a pencil, and then with a modeling knife. Katy began imagining it was herself who had been captured, then taped down. In her fantasy, the giant pencil didn't just stop at her stomach, but moved up and gently pushed her breasts. The pencil was replaced by the knife, which expertly cut her clothes away, while Katy was powerless to do anything about it. In her fantasy, the knife was then replaced a very gentle, which explored her body before ending between her legs.

The fantasy gave Katy one of the best masturbatory sessions she had ever had.

After that, Katy was hooked. She set up a dummy account for herself for the sole purpose of being able to explore her microphilia fetish anonymously.

Katy was fascinated by all the variations in the genre, including the size which the women were shrunk. Her personal favorite size for her own fantasies was fifteen centimeters, due to her first exposure to the SW genre being Land of the Giants. Katy found she especially enjoyed stories where the woman was shrunk out of her clothes. But all the variations absolutely fascinated her, with some inducing her to let her own hand wander.

Katy couldn't spend all her time on her newfound SW hobby, and at times, she tried to go cold turkey, staying away from SW sites and forums. When she first encountered Vore, it so disgusted her that she stayed off the SW sites for three months. But the artwork and stories that she did enjoy always brought her back.

Then it happened. Someone did an SW picture based on her. It wasn't the greatest collage she had ever seen, but it still turned her on to the point she could still get herself off just by thinking about it. A couple of writers wrote some stories about her, but the best moment was when someone wrote THE story. It had all the elements of SW that Katy enjoyed, and a couple she didn't know she would enjoy until she read them. For example, in the story, other female celebrities are kidnapped and Katy is forced to have sex with them while her giant captor first watches, then participates in.

Katy found herself speculating about what it would be like to make love to another woman while a giant man watched. The song "I kissed a girl" on her next album was wholly inspired by the thoughts this story had gotten mentally rolling. Katy had a guest room in her house redone with giant eyes on the wallpaper, and even had a few makeout sessions with some female friends in the room. But only in the room. She found the faux exhibitionism exciting, but her taste for her own sex was limited to that room alone. Otherwise, she still wanted the "schwing."

And that was the problem. Katy could dress at home in ridiculously oversized clothing, she could have makeout sessions in a room lined with giant eyes, she could enjoy "private time" with herself reading her favorite stories and looking at her favorite drawings and collages. But that's not what she wanted. She wanted to be shrunk, handled, fondled and licked. She wanted to find herself in a world of giants, where she would become a gentle giant's pet and toy.

And none of that was going to happen. Even virtual reality, which she had her manager invest her money in, could only give a limited duplication of what she wanted. So her microphilia was relegated to a secret fantasy that would never come true.

Until she met Russell Brand. The two hit it off from the start. But what clinched it for Katy was when Russell started calling her his little pixie, because she had enchanted his heart.

Katy couldn't tell you when, but elements of her microphilia started making their way into hers and Russell's bedroom. Russell, it seemed, wanted to handle a shrunken Katy almost as much, if not more, than Katy herself wanted to be handled shrunken.

Things might have stopped there, with Katy and Russell scratching each other's fetish itch with oversized clothing and descriptive talk during sex, but three months into their dating, Russell told Katy that he had found a way to shrink her down to fifteen centimeters. He began relating some unbelievable story about a Persian sorcerer finding refuge in one of the Indian kingdoms sixteen hundred years ago, and having left behind the secret of shrinking through an elaborate ceremony. To Katy, it sounded like the plot to that ancient Sinbad movie she had become addicted to, because the princess is shrunken in it. Her rational mind told her it was utter nonsense, that no matter how much she wanted to be shrunken, it was never going to happen. But the part of her mind that memorized all the collages done of her shrunken wanted to believe.

As she was listening to Russell, he told her the catch. In order for the spell to work, Katy would have to marry him.

Katy liked Russell. She even loved him. But she knew that if she married Russell, he'd want her to take a break from her career, and she wasn't ready for that quite yet.

But she did want to be shrunken.

So, while the rational part of her mind said that shrinking was impossible, the part of her mind that wanted to be shrunken overruled everything else and happily agreed to marry Russell.

To the world, Russell proposed to Katy on New Year's Day in India. In reality, the engagement proposal was the beginning of a complicated sequence of rituals that would reduce Katy down to an eleventh of her size.

When, she wasn't sure. Neither was Russell. But he was confident it would be soon. Very soon.

In the October of the year she was engaged, twenty-six year old Katy Perry married the man she loved and who hopefully be her giant paramour on her honeymoon night. The marriage ceremony was supposedly a tribute to the Indian culture, but a number of the elements of the wedding were actually meant to shrink the bride when she was alone with the groom.

Except that it didn't happen. Katy was disappointed, but still hopeful, when Russell explained that he had misread the spell, and that it should shrink her on New Year's, exactly one year after they had officially became engaged.

Again, Katy's rational mind told her that, no matter how much she wanted it, it was simply physically impossible for her to be shrunken. But the fetish dominated part of her mind still held out hope.

On their first New Year's as a couple, Katy and Russell traveled to India again. And again, nothing happened.

Russell still held out hope, and every two months, he and Katy would try to complete the spell. The results were always the same. Nothing.

In the meantime, Russell began trying to persuade Katy to put her career on hold, so they could start a family. Katy began wondering if the whole "shrinking spell" thing might not have been some bizarre ruse on Russell's part to get her to marry him and quit her career.

In June of the same year, against Russell's objections, Katy began a world tour in support of her newest album. She made trips home to spend time with Russell, but the flame that had been ignited between the two had began to wane.

Russell and Katy would spend their one year anniversary, and their third New Year's together, in the same place in India where they had gotten engaged and married. Russell tried to complete the spell, but Katy had already put that part of her life behind her, and was embarrassed to have it brought up again and again.

Katy didn't bother coming home for Christmas. So it was no surprise when Russell texted her that he had filed for divorce.

Katy was so devastated she spent two weeks in bed. Finally, she forced herself to get up and get moving. When she did get moving, she avoided her smartphone and computer for another two weeks.

Then one evening, she was sitting up in bed, on her laptop, and logging in on the internet account she used to anonymously conduct her microphilia activities.

As she read through a story that involved characters from a science fiction show, she made up her mind. Somehow, somewhere, shrinking was possible, and if it was possible, she was going to make it happen to her. With a sense of determination, Katy closed her laptop and went to sleep.

Tomorrow was going to be the start of her search for a shrunken adventure, and somehow she was going to make it happen.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by Bobascher » Sat May 23, 2020 4:30 pm

I concur, she likes being small

Image

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Sun May 24, 2020 5:53 am

(Another Bobascher inspired story!)

Trying to get it right

Bob knew he had gotten it wrong almost as soon as she appeared. The look of utter disdain on her face made that obvious.

"Seriously? You waste your biweekly summoning to bring me to this? Did I not make perfectly clear what it was I desired?"

For such a tiny person, Bob thought, she could certainly screech louder than a full-sized woman.

"You said to get you a palace suitable for Your Serenity," Bob hurriedly replied.

"Exactly," the tiny , dark skinned woman agreed, her tiny features and the tone of her voice clearly displaying her exasperation. "A palace! Suitable for --- what in the uncountable levels of the underworld do you think you are doing?"

Bob had been reaching for the tiny woman, but hurriedly withdrew his fingers. "I thought since I almost completed the ninth task, and there only ten tasks, I could..."

"We have clearly established the limits which must be observed until all ten tasks are completed," the tiny woman observed, then adding as she turned her head in dismissal, "Or should I repeat the instruction I have given you in the past?"

"No, your Serenity," Bob said hurriedly, dropping his hands under the table on which the tiny woman and the toy castle were situated. Almost a year ago, when Bob had accidentally activated the magical stone that summoned the tiny woman, he had reached out to touch her. And who could blame Bob? Tiny the dark skinned woman might be, but in that light blue harem outfit that set off her skin tone wonderfully, it was clear that the tiny woman was a beautiful woman with a very desirable body.

The tiny woman had done something that made it feel as if the fingertips on his hands were all being simultaneously burned off. Bob never made the mistake of touching the tiny woman uninvited ever again. And the tiny woman had not yet invited him to do so.

Instead, she had given him a task to complete, told him that if he wanted her to serve him "in all ways," Bob would have to complete ten such tasks, and until then, he could only summon her once every fortnight. Then she disappeared.

All the tasks she had given him had been issued to Bob in the form of lyrical riddles. And not easy riddles at that. Bob remember the eye roll she had given him with one of the answers he had presented her. Then there was another time that a wrong answer had earned Bob fifteen minutes of uninterrupted laughter, before the tiny woman disappeared, still wiping tears from her face.

That time Bob had almost been tempted to stop summoning the tiny woman and throw the stone away.

That had been when he had been working on task number five, and he had already committed six months into trying to solve all these damned tasks.

Bob thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel when the ninth task was simply to get a palace suitable for the tiny woman to live in. He interpreted that to mean that she would be staying in this reality, rather than returning to wherever she disappeared to. Which meant that maybe he could become more 'familiar' with her and still keep all his digits intact.

Apparently, that wasn't the case. At least not yet.

""First, I said palace," she began. The tiny woman turned to face the tiny playset Bob had ordered two weeks ago, when he completed/solved the eighth task. Bob thought it a good omen when the ninth task seemed easy to complete.

"This is not the Polly Pocket Jasmine's Royal Palace," the tiny woman continued. "This is the marketplace playset. Simply because there are miranets present does not make it a palace. Second, the Polly Pocket playsets are also carrying sets. Which means I cannot enter and exit the interior at whim, but have to wait for someone else to open up one of the walls."

"I can order the Royal Palace," Bob quickly suggested, "And you can use your magic to modify it to suit your needs."

"Did I set you the task to get me a palace that I could magically altar?" the tiny woman asked. "No, I did not. I said to get a palace suitable for me to live in. You have perhaps noted my diminished size?"

Bob almost remarked that she was always a diminished size, but thought better of it. Instead he answered, "You're a third your normal size."

"Exactly." the tiny woman said in a tone that suggested that maybe Bob wasn't as stupid as he looked. "My normal height is one six point one eight centimeters, an approximation of the golden ratio. But instead I had to appear at a height suitable for this toy set. Which is neither suitable not a palace. Your task is to find a palace suitable for me. Do you understand?"

Bob nodded.

"Good," the tiny woman replied. "Oh, and don't get that stupid palace that you can move any of the Disney princesses into. Whatever you get, needs to be suitable for me. I am not interchangeable with a mermaid or a French peasant girl." With that, the tiny woman vanished.

Bob sighed dramatically as soon as the tiny woman was gone. He grabbed his laptop and started searching for doll sized castles. Maybe there was something on Etsy. He could only hope.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by Bobascher » Sun May 24, 2020 8:38 am

Lol that’s great Kim!

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 25, 2020 8:43 am

The Girl of His Dreams

He tried to ignore her. Not because she wasn't desirable. She was that and more. It was because it always ended the same way.

But somehow he could never turn away from her. And things always ended the same.

She sat there, suspended in space, just within reach. She wore only a small little bikini bottom and a winsome smile and nothing else. And Will knew that if he could only reach out fast enough, he'd have that little sun kissed beauty in the palm of his hand. Literally. She was only sixteen centimeters tall. How he knew that exact measurement, Will didn't know. But he knew.

Just as he knew that, even though she was curled in such away that both hid and expose her beauty, she would gladly unbend to his eye and touch. His desire would be tempered by gentleness, and Will knew that she knew this.

But everytime he reached for her, some force would pull her away, and that winsome smile would be filled with panic and fear as she shouted for him to rescue her. Will would scream and reach for her, but she would always be out of his reach as she disappeared. And there would be a look that was equal parts despair and betrayal on her tiny face before she disappeared.

So Will tried to ignore. But her never could. And the same thing would happen again and again, before he woke up, panting and covered with sweat.

---------

The year was 1954, and William Douglas Bryce was an eighteen year old farm boy in Washington who lived on his family's cherry orchard in the shadow of Mount Rainier. Up until a year ago, the closest Will had ever come to a beautiful, almost nude woman was in the hidden cache of his Uncle Rick's collection of pinup girls from the Second World War. None of the girls in his small high school had given Will a second look. Will had been worried that he'd never even get to kiss a girl, much less ever to get to see one actually naked.

And as far as Hispanic women were concerned, the only ones Will had ever seen were in the movies (and the only one he would recognize on sight was Lina Romay from the Senor Droopy cartoon).

And then the nightmares begun. They started off as what Will thought was going to be the type of illicit dream that would result with him either waking up with an erection or a sticky mess in his bedsheets. But then, just as he reached for the tiny, desirable Latina, some unseen force would pull the tiny, near nude woman away.

Will told no one about the dreams, but his parents knew that his sleep was being interrupted for some reason. Will's father suspected that Will was being bullied at high school. So Will's father decided it was time to make a man out of Will. To that end, Will's father enrolled Will into a boxing gym in the nearby small town of Reginar.

After the end of the Second World War, Edward Siswern, a recently retired British officer decided to move to Reginar and set up a boxing gym. The man was eccentric but quickly established a reputation as an unequalled pugilist after a few bar brawl, which helped him at his gym. Edward and Will's uncle Rick were old friends from the war, so Edward was happy to take Will under his wing. Edward even allowed Will to join the Historical Swordplay Class he gave for the drama department once a week for drama students at the University of Washington, then gave one on one advanced classes when Will showed an aptitude for the blade.

Will found that if he dedicated himself to his new training, the nightmares also disappeared. And if Will went out on a date, the nightmare appeared almost as soon as he closed his eyes after coming home from the date. So for his senior year of high school, Will lived the life of a warrior monk. None of his classmates teased him about it more than once. The important thing to Will, though, was that it almost stopped the nightmares.

Almost.

At least once every two or three weeks, he'd have the nightmare. In the nightmare, he always tried to ignore the tiny woman. But invariably he tried to grab her, and she was always pulled out of his reach, with the look of abandonment and forlorn on her face before she disappeared.

Finally, graduation came, and Will had to decide what to do with his life. Edward thought Will had potential as a professional fighter, once he did his mandatory service. His Uncle Rick thought he ought to join the Air Force and get some technical training so he could move to the city afterwards. His Dad thought he ought to stay on the farm, no matter what branch he enlisted in.

Will himself had no idea what he should do.

That is, until the day the Door appeared.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 25, 2020 10:19 am

(And another Bobascher inspired story!)

A Small Birthday Present

The wizard Tim looked around the field, getting grumpier by the minute. He might be getting on in years, but he wasn't senile yet, not by a long stretch of decades. It was a simple enough spell, really, and she had to pop up in this vicinity, after all.

Still, he couldn't find her, and he was already late to his favorite grandnephew's eighteenth birthday party. Tim was so frustrated by his inability to find her that he almost resorted to a locator spell when he finally saw her. With a self-satisfied smile, he strode toward her.

A small part of Lisa's brain was screaming all sorts of warnings and alarms at her, but that part of her brain was so distant, and so wrapped up in fog and cotton, she didn't even hear it as a whisper. Instead, she was enjoying walking in a meadow full of giant wildflowers, loving the feeling of the sun and the wind on her skin. Her only concern was that she was wearing the wrong sort of shoes for this sort of walk. She was about to kick them off when the sun was suddenly blocked by a towering figure.

"Well, hello there," she called up at the giant elderly man looming over, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun to get a better look at him. "It's a beautiful day for a walk, don't you think?"

"It certainly is," Tim replied as he looked down and smiled at the sight of the tiny Latina in a purple sundress, standing only twenty-three centimeters tall. He had certainly picked the perfect choice of a woman to shrink down for his grandnephew's birthday present. Perhaps too perfect, he thought, as he admired the way the young Latina filled out her sundress.

Tim mentally shook his head, reminding himself that this was his grandnephew's day after all, and not his.

"Say," Tim said, continuing to smile at the tiny woman, who beamed back up at him, "I was wondering if you could help me out with a problem."

"I'd be delighted to," Lisa answered.

"I'm heading to the birthday party for my grandnephew -- it's his eighteenth birthday," Tim informed Lisa, "and I realized I have no birthday present for him."

"That's terrible!" Lisa exclaimed. "Especially on his eighteenth birthday. That's an important birthday, you know."

"I know," Tim agreed. "So I was wondering if you would help me out by being my birthday present to him."

"Oh, I'd love to be a birthday present," Lisa said happily. Then a frown crossed her face, "Although I'd get claustrophobic covered in wrapping paper for a long time."

"Not to worry," Tim answered. A colorful box appeared in Tim's hand, with a number of small holes visible around it's side. "You'll be in this very roomy box. It has air holes and padding, and you'll only be in for fifteen minutes at the most. A half hour, tops."

"Well, that's all right then," Lisa smiled. When Tim reached down to pick her up, Lisa didn't resist, but rather stepped into his grasp, giggling as Tim lifted her up.

At the feel of Lisa's ample bosom pressing into his palm, Tim once again had second thoughts about giving her away to his grandnephew. Unfortunately, the spell was such that Lisa could only be bound to one person, so Tim had to forgo any "dalliance" with Lisa, to ensure she "connected" with his grandnephew and not him.

Tim hurriedly put Lisa in the box, and caused a ribbon to magically appear and wrap itself around the box.

Tim practically ran to the birthday party, wanting to make sure he didn't lose his resolve and keep Lisa for himself.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 25, 2020 2:12 pm

(The following is a story inspired by a creation by Josh The Cyborg. And I'd like to thank Josh and all the writers and artists on this site who show their love of the SW genre by creating stories, pictures and the like for the rest of us to enjoy)

Shrunk is the hunted

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" a booming voice sounded from far away.

Anna did nothing of the sort. But the owner of the booming voice didn't expect her to.

Anna still didn't know how it happened, but she was sure what would happen if Matt found her.

Six months ago, Anna Tanaka moved in with the Crandall family, to finish out her senior year at Eastbirch High School. Laura Crandall was her best friend and Laura's parents thoroughly approved of their friendship. When Anna's mother got a promotion that would require moving the family to the East Coast, Anna and Laura cooked up the scheme of Anna moving in with the Crandall family until Anna started college.

It was perfect. Well, it would have been perfect if it hadn't been for Laura's younger brother Matt.

Matt's parents called him Laura's Irish twin, and was one year behind Laura and Anna. Matt could have been okay if he wasn't so creepy. As soon as Anna moved into the Crandall home, he was always trying to get peeks at Anna when she was dressing or coming out of the shower. Of course, he was always careful enough to do so when no one else but Anna could catch him at it. And Anna was so embarrassed by Matt's attention, and was so grateful by the Crandalls opening up their home to her, that she never told anyone. She just worked hard at making sure she was never alone in the house with Matt.

It had worked fairly well until one Saturday morning, when the Crandalls were going to visit one set of grandparents for the weekend. Anna thought Matt would be gone as well, but at the last minute, he had faked a stomach ache to stay behind.

Anna hadn't known Matt was in the house when she woke up. She had taken a long, leisurely shower and had just changed into her underwear when it happened. In the blink of an eye, she found herself eighteen centimeters tall. And a booming voice on the outside of the bathroom door that Anna recognized as Matt said, "I'd ask you to unlock the door for me, Anna, but I know you can't reach it anymore. Don't worry, I'll be in to scoop you up in second."

Fortunately for Anna, the bathroom had two entry doors. Even more fortunate, she wasn't completely petrified by her new situation. So by the time Matt had opened one door, Anna had slid under the other and disappeared into the house.

And that was how Anna had found her way into Melissa Crandall's room, the Crandalls' nine year old daughter and youngest child. Anna was on a shelf, among Melissa's various dolls, when she heard Matt's voice call out. She froze in place until she heard him call out again. She sighed a sigh of relief as his voice indicated he was moving away from her. Looking around, Anna tried to decide where the best place to hide was.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by Bobascher » Mon May 25, 2020 4:34 pm

Excellent work Kim as always! Thank you for your support of the community!

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Mon May 25, 2020 10:40 pm

Bobascher wrote:
Mon May 25, 2020 4:34 pm
Excellent work Kim as always! Thank you for your support of the community!
The community supports me, so how could I do less? :)

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Wed May 27, 2020 1:17 am

Tiny window of opportunity
(with thanks to Bobascher for providing yet another inspiration!)

"Now don't everyone press in at once," Dr. Wilson said, as she invited the students to look through the magnifying glass at the pozychalʹnyk. The tiny young woman who was the subject of the scrutiny preened as she turned around, displaying her homemade skirt. But the pozychalʹnyk were known for their bright and decoratively detailed clothes as well as producing the most beautiful pysanka (Ukrainian easter eggs) in the world. Legend even had it that Peter Carl Fabergé had a small entourage of pozychalʹnyk working for him at his jewelry firm.

Whether he did or not was a matter of conjecture. What is known that the only known community of pozychalʹnyk in the world had not left the village of Dzembronya in more than a century. And neither Nazi or Communist, Tsarist or Oligarch, had been able to bypass the protective magic around the Dzembronya pozychalʹnyk. The only reason that Zelyvateya had accompanied Dr. Wilson back to America was Zelyvateya was a naturally curious girl about the world around her, Dr. Wilson had spent more than two years among the Dzembronya pozychalʹnyk and had the trust of that community's leaders, and Boston University was known worldwide for its magical words and its thaumaturgy programs.

So even though the terrarium that Zelyvateya was currently dwelling in might look innocuous enough, it was filled with enough magical protection that would be the envy of the world's superpowers. This included enchanted gems that would detect those with less than savory thoughts about little Zelyvateya.

Which was why Hondo Tonekings was hanging back. Hondo didn't need Dr. Wilson's class, not even for his general requirements. But Hondo had always fantasized about the pozychalʹnyk. Fantasies that were definitely NC-17. And though Hondo knew he would never be able to realize his fantasies, even being this close to a pozychalʹnyk was enough to provide maturbatory fantasy material for years to come.

Hondo wasn't the only one hanging back. A second person had sinister aims toward tiny Zelyvateya as well. But where Hondo's fantasies would have disgusted Zelyvateya and her giant protector, the designs the second person had on Zelyvateya would have absolutely horrified them.

But at present, Dr. Wilson and Zelyvateya were blissfully ignorant of the two, Instead, Dr. Wilson was focusing on translating "Californian" for a confused Zelyvateya as a Stanford transfer student peppered the pozychalʹnyk with questions.
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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by Bobascher » Wed May 27, 2020 3:27 am

Beautiful and respectfully researched!

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by ensmallen » Wed May 27, 2020 4:10 am

This is some collection. Something for every taste.

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Wed May 27, 2020 3:25 pm

SirLurkALot wrote:
Wed May 27, 2020 4:10 am
This is some collection. Something for every taste.
It helps when you have different voices in your head waiting to tell their tales! :P

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Re: SW Flash Fiction Anthology

Post by FifteencentiKim » Thu May 28, 2020 9:43 pm

Magic interrupted

If Emma Watson had had a scene coming up, she wouldn't have risked it. But she had been told all the reshoots involving her were done. And since it was, Emma allowed herself to indulge in a cup of drinking chocolate.

As she watched the bustle of activity, she felt a bit bittersweetness creep in. If all the reshoots went well, today would be the last day of filming for the final installment of the Harry Potter franchise. It was literally the end of one part of her life. A part that she was going to miss, but also a part that had opened up a world of opportunities to her.

As Emma drank her chocolate and mused, her thoughts were interrupted by someone yelling out "Hey Emma!"

Startled, she looked up to see one of the extras pointing his wand at her. As soon as he saw her looking, he grinned and shouted, "Parvula nudus!"

Image

One moment, Emma was there, the next she was gone. Or rather, her body was gone. Her sweater, her pants, her underwear, everything she had been wearing, was in a pile where she had been standing.

Nearby, a security guard had watched the whole thing develop and had rushed the extra as soon as called out Emma's name, but it had been too late. The security guard tackled the extra and got the wand out of his hand before he bound the man's hands behind his wrists.

As other security personnel swarmed the area, the original guard ran over to where Emma's clothes were piled. Shaking his head, the guard produced a wand of his own and began muttering some words.

=============================================================================

The world was a kaleidoscope of colors and a cacophony of sounds for Emma for what seemed forever, until everything came into focus again. But when it did, it still didn't make sense.

For one thing, she was completely nude. For another, everything was huge. Everything. Which included the twenty meter tall guy looking down at her grinning.

Emma belatedly realized why the guy was grinning. Her right arm crossed over her breasts while her left hand covered her crotch while she tried to squeeze in on herself.

"What? How?" she managed to ask the giant, who just continued grinning as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Well, if you haven't figure it out yet, Miss Watson," the giant began, as he kicked off his shoes, revealing a pair of bare feet, "Magic is real. Magicians are real. Oh, there aren't whole magical societies existing in plain sight, as it were, but we're here." The giant unbuckled his belt, pulled it through the loops, and tossed it aside. "We have some rules and guidelines and such, but for the most part, the main rule is just to stay undetected. Nobody is strong enough to take over the world and enslave the non-magical populace, but nobody really wants to. We just want to have fun."

"And speaking of fun," the giant said, sliding his slacks and jockeys down and off, revealing a prodigious erection that Emma estimated must be as big or bigger than herself, "While you were still in the neighborhood, and since you're done filming, my brother and I decided we would have a little fun with you. He's the one who sent you back to our flat. He'll be back in a little bit. In the meantime," the nude giant said, reaching for a cringing Emma, "Let me offer you a ride on my Nimbus 2000. You're going to be riding it until you get a hold of the Golden Snitch."

The giant's fingers were brushing Emma's body when she disappeared. With a scream of frustration, the giant ran for his clothes, but froze in place when his door burst open, with a wand wielding woman leading the charge.

The world was pure chaos for another undetermined amount of time for Emma. When she reappeared she was still nude, but at least she was normal sized. She immediately realized that she was in her own dressing trailer, with a wand wielding security guard standing in front of her.

The guard immediately spun around, looking away. "Your clothes are on the couch. After you get dressed, we'll need to have a little talk."

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