I thought I would post some of the SW fiction I have written, because I think (know) I am much better at writing than at art. Even so, my best writing seems to be as captions or short stories for more gifted folks' wonderful art or images (when they strike me just right or include me as a character). I did quite a bit of this on DA over the years and always enjoyed doing it because it was usually short (although I usually wrote too much) and sweet. Also, if I was really taken by an SW image, the ideas and words would just tend to pour out of me.
Still, I have gotten some nice responses to my stand-alone writing, even though some of the works are incomplete (maybe this will spur me to finish them!). As you will hopefully see, there are several that can be loosely connected because they have similar themes or characters.
Some of my Giant protagonists are male, some female; both types of tales have their different styles and directions,and I enjoy reading and writing both. However, in every story, I am always the shrunken woman at the center of the drama. I suppose this is my way of living out my most intimate fantasies on the page. I also want to share them, and I sincerely hope you will enjoy the tiny adventures of Kara the Dollgirl.
Staying Small
Kara
(I had almost forgotten that the artist called "Shrinkingwomen" on DA had read my little story and was kind enough to do several images based on it. I think he did a wonderful job, so I am adding them after the fact because they do go together and they allow you to visualize the story a bit better. Hope you like!)
Kara’s Dance
After our scrumptious Italian dinner, my Master reaches down and picks me up in his giant hands and takes me back to his bedroom. As we enter, I gasp, because it is so beautiful here. There are candles lit all around the room, bathing it in a warm glow. There is a huge (well, to me) bed and a chest of drawers and there is also a large desk in the corner. Master takes me over to the desk and puts me down on the surface. I look around a bit. It is a lovely Cherry wood color. There are several candles on the desk, on stands that make them tower over yours truly, the living doll. Farther away on the desk are the usual things that belong there…drawers and cubbyholes and an antique ink stand, along with a stand that hold several regular ink pens. Everything is, or course, on a giant scale. There is a clock nearby that is taller than I am. There is also a giant ruler nearby, and I amuse myself and my Master by going over and lying down next to it. Even stretching myself to my full length, I still come in at just under 6 inches in length…or height. My nipples crinkle under my bra as I think to what use my giant Master might put this instrument to discipline a disobedient dollie! (Oh my!)
There is one other item on the desk that might well belong there, but not in this position. Right in the middle of the desk top, there is a large, tall, empty CD spindle, the kind that usually holds blank CD’s that you use to rip music or even videos. I draw closer to it…the bottom of the stand seems to be of black plastic and it rises several inches (feet to me) above the desk level. In the middle of the “floor” is a tall, metal pole or spindle, about a foot thick and rising several “feet” over my head. I begin to suspect exactly for what reason my Master has put this here and set me down near it. Then he speaks to me:
He lays down his I phone on the desk nearby and tells me that he now wishes me to dance and strip for him. I can use the giant phone to call up any music I like. He doesn’t say that he wants me to use the pole, but I know that without him telling me. He does tell me he wants me to do this v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y, and if I don’t do it right, I will be punished (maybe he will use the ruler?) As I think about what he is telling me do, a shiver runs down my tiny shrunken body...my nipples grow hard…there are the beginnings of a moistness between my thighs. I smile up at him. “Oh, yes, Master!”, I say to him in my sexiest voice. “your little Kara Doll hears and obeys”.
Luckily, I have taken years of dance classes while I was in College, of every kind: ballet, modern, jazz, even tap dancing! (although I don’t think Master will want to see that style * giggle*). I am quite used to dancing in front of other people, although usually with clothes on. But there probably isn’t a woman alive who hasn’t fantasized about getting up on stage and doing an exotic dance in a “gentleman’s” club. Most would never follow through, but it’s a fantasy most women have had at some time, if they are honest. But for me it became more than a fantasy. I have a girlfriend who dances at an exotic club downtown on weekends, and once when she got sick, she managed to arrange for me to fill in for her for a few nights. There wasn’t a risk of anyone recognizing me, as in her act she wore a mask and a wig. We had both started out as dancers in College and then she went into exotic dancing. But we stayed friends and one weekend when we had nothing planned, she taught me the basics of what she did at the club. Of course, the clubs are a bit different these days, there are women patrons as well as male.
So I took over for her one weekend, and even though I was pretty scared at first, I actually began to enjoy it by Saturday night. I made quite a bit of money that night, but I gave it to my friend because she needed it more than I did.
Also, it seems I am quite the exhibitionist…
Anyway, what I am trying to say is that when my giant Master ordered me to dance for him, there was no hesitation on my part. I walked over to the giant phone that was as long as I was tall and knelt next to it for a moment, looking through the playlists (fortunately, I could still push the huge buttons at my size, though it took both of my tiny hands). I finally found what I was looking for: a jazz playlist with a lot of wailing saxophones and yet some thumping bass and drums. I started it playing and then walked out to the middle of the desk. I was going to start my strip act “on the floor”.
The music begins slowly, and I slowly begin to move my hips…as I do I reach behind my back and unhook my little black party dress…then I slowly pull the zipper down, so that it will fall off when I want it to…I take my hands up into the air and move them slowly around, in time with my hip movements. The music picks up tempo a little and so do I. My zipper is down in back and so I turn so that my audience of One can see my bare back, not to mention my curvy bottom moving back and forth and around and around….I lower the dress and pull it down, shimmying out of it as I shake my tiny booty to the sensuous sounds of slow, sexy jazz…
I turn back front and now the dress is down around my ankles. I step out of it and kick it toward the giant who stares at me transfixed as I dance for him. One of his hands is on the desk where I can see it but the other has disappeared below the edge where I can’t see it, although I can guess what he is doing down there…I smile to myself, glad that my little strip act is being appreciated!
Now I am clad only in my pink push-up bra, my pink panties, my black stockings and my black high-heeled shoes. One last thing before I take the stage…I reach up and undo my long blonde hair and let it fall down my shoulders…then I give my head a good shake and it cascades all around my shoulders and down my back.
Now I confidently stride up on the black plastic “stage” and begin to wrap my body around the metal pole in the center. I twirl around and around, hooking my legs around the pole, then my arms and then my whole tiny body. In the back of my mind, I can’t believe I’m dancing on an ordinary CD spindle, but meanwhile, as I am dancing and the music gets hotter, I am feeling more and more aroused, my breath coming shorter and my nipples aching and my wetness growing…
Now I start to unhook my bra and pull it off slowly. Then I wave it around as I gyrate to the music, finally throwing it toward the giant form that leans even more intently toward the show that is going on in the middle of the desk. As he leans forward, I can see a glint of perspiration on his upper lip. Now my breasts are free of their satin prison and are heaving around, the hardness of my nipples there for my giant audience to see if he looks closely, and he certainly is…now I am just in my panties, stocking and heels…
I start to pull down my panties, slowly, slowly, teasing my raptly attentive Giant by getting them caught on each knee and ankle and heel until I finally get them off and kick them out toward my Master. I notice that he picks them up and brings them up to his face and sniffs them and smiles. Now for the stockings…I unhook the garters and then I sit down on the hard black plastic and, with my legs up in the air, pull each stocking off slooowly and, I hope sexily, and toss them out where all my other articles of clothing have gone…
Now I have nothing on but my high heels and now I attack that pole and wrap my tiny body around it with abandon…I am feeling so very free now, and I also feel that, as tiny as I am now, I am the one who is in control and I am loving every minute of it…I slither up and down and around that pole as the music moves toward a climax, I am also feeling as though I could climax myself. I finally remember my shoes and kick each tiny one off in turn and then kick them off the stage...my breath is coming in ragged gasps now, and my tiny heart is beating so hard I can barely hear the music. Finally, I give one last gyration and bump and grind, and then I fall, exhausted, to the hard plastic floor.
I lay there, breathing hard, still feeling the arousal of my dance and strip routine, my small body glistening with perspiration and with the ache and wetness of my excitement and arousal…then, as I lay there, I see I a giant hand reach down and pick me up effortlessly, naked and aroused and helpless, walking with me slowly toward the giant bed on the other side of the room…my tiny heart begins to beat faster again….as I imagine what is to come next…
Good story.
