Claire’s Night

[tinyclementine]

It was a crisp, quiet Thursday night when nineteen-year old Claire Daley was awoken in her dorm by a low rumble of thunder. She hadn’t realized that it was supposed to rain. She rubbed her eyes and looked around in the darkness of her dorm, and saw the outline of her roommates bed, empty as usual. Everyone in her hall had gone home for the holidays, but Claire hadn’t spoken to her family since she started college. They didn’t want her to seek an education, but she decided she’d rather be a nurse than forever live with a family of narcissists and pervs. And although Claire felt much safer in her new environment during the past year, she still couldn’t find that sense of ease she craved. A sense of peace. At this point, she would have done anything to get that feeling, but she refused to take drugs based off of principle. Still, Claire was ever-aware of the itch she couldn’t seem to scratch, but she didn’t know why.

She laid there in the dark for a while just looking at the ceiling, feeling lonelier than usual. The clock read 2:28 am, Claire turned on the light—perks of having a roommate who’s always at her boyfriend’s place—and examined herself in the mirror. She took of her oversized pajama t-shirt and threw it in the hamper, then got a good look at herself. She was 5’8”, and always felt like she was taking up too much space. Her face was rounded and kind, and she had big, sad, ocean blue eyes. Pale freckles sparingly decorated different parts of her body, a spattering across her nose and collarbone, as well as a dusting of them on her shoulders. Fluffy waves of espresso colored hair went down to her boobs, Claire did a twirl. Her humble B cups peeking out underneath. She hadn’t had sex in months since she and Noah broke up, and she wanted nothing more than to feel wanted again. She wished that she had an easier time meeting people, and resigned herself back to sleep minutes before everything changed forever.

Right as she was just getting comfortable and about to fall asleep again, a bright flash of light and a gust of wind transported her out of her room in less than a second just as it started to rain.

It was still bright when Claire was brave enough to open her eyes. She looked around and her stomach sank to the floor in disbelief as she realized she was no longer in her dorm room, but instead a new room that resembled a well-lit therapist’s office. Now fully dressed in a t shirt and jeans she wasn’t wearing before. There was a couch, a desk, a rolling chair, and not much else. Everything was white, the furniture, the walls, almost ethereally. She looked over to the corner and saw an open door revealing what must be the bathroom. Almost convinced she was dreaming, Claire decided to close her eyes and count to three to try and wake up, but before she could even count to two a familiar male voice behind her sounding equally as shocked said, “Clairy Daley? Is that you?”

She turned around and a smile of relief broke across her face as she saw who it was.
“Booker, oh thank god!”
She ran into his arms and wrapped her hands around his neck, just grateful to see someone familiar amidst all this confusion.
James Booker was a 23 year old who stood at 6 ft tall with broad shoulders and a short, thick beard. When Claire was 16 and saving up money to leave her parents house, James was her manager at the pizza place that served as Claire’s second job at the time. Out of every male influence in Claire’s life, James was one of the first she ever trusted. He even helped her with her college application, they always had the best times at work goofing off and quoting TV shows and movies they both liked. They had a lot in common, but since Booker was her manager and she was only sixteen at the time, she never came forward about the crush she developed on him. And although Booker would’ve never admitted it at the time, he had a huge soft spot for Claire and just wanted to protect her. After she moved out and left town and Booker got a better job in programming, she figured she’d never see him again outside of his life on social media. Now, three years later they stood together alone in a strange white room, and Claire was afraid to let go of the embrace and face the reality of this situation.

Just as Claire was opening her mouth to ask, “What’s going on?”, a pleasant bodiless female voice filled the room:

“James Booker and Claire Daley, welcome and congratulations. We know you two must be confused, so let me explain to you why you’re here in a way that you can understand. You’re about 500 years in the future in a testing facility where we study the effects of horniness on young people in the 2010s. By going through and observing records, online behavior, DNA testing, and other various bits of information, we developed a system that pairs up sexual partners based on their potential to understand each other and anticipate each other’s needs. We also take secret fantasies into account when doing this, and make even the wildest of dreams a reality. Society has evolved to realize the importance of sexual fulfillment, and time travel among other technological advancements have allowed us to test theories now in a way we never thought could be possible.”

Claire and James shared a terrified glance for a moment before looking back to the ceiling listening to the omniscient voice.

“So what does this mean for you two?” she continued, “You two have been selected by the university board to be the first to test this new system that we’ve spend decades developing. You’ll have the option to have your memory wiped after the session if it was not effective, but we are hoping this is not the case. To make things easier, we start by pumping in a light aphrodisiac vapor in the room, as well as other vaporized substances to help your bodies align with your sexual desires. As soon as I sign off we’ll turn on the vapor generator, and the session can last as long as you two like! Thank you for participating and we hope this helps you as much as it helps us.”

“What. The. Hell.” Booker said, dumbfounded. “Clairy we don’t have to do any of that, I’m sure this is just some stupid prank. I can’t believe they think they can just put people in a room and tell them to do things like this, it’s fucki—“

Booker noticed Claire staring up at the ceiling behind him, and followed her gaze to find a thin pink mist starting to fill the room.

“They weren’t kidding,” Claire said, “what do you think it’s going to do, James?” Her hands were shaking and she looked to her old manager for an answer.

“Well, it’s an aphrodisiac, so...” he started to explain

“I know what aphrodisiacs do, dummy,” Claire quipped, surprised she was able to be silly at a time like this, “ I meant the other thing they said...about our fantasies. What could that mean?”

Before James had a chance to reply, his eyes caught Claire’s shirt, now oversized, beginning to slip over her right shoulder. She went to pull it up, realized what was happening and started to panic a little bit “Oh no, oh no no no no.”

James, very confused but also now extremely turned on, asked “So what’s your kink? Oversized clothes?”

Claire’s jeans slowly started to slip down as well, but she caught them right before her pink lacy underwear started to make a debut. “Um, not quite, just uh, oh shit. Fuck. This is really happening isn’t it???!!!” she shrieked.

James, horny as ever but still sympathetic towards the girl, averted his eyes in an effort to comfort her. “You don’t have to be nervous, Clairy, it’s okay! They’re probably just trying to make your clothes fall off to help their weird sex game..”

It was when Claire noticed her bra sliding off of her body completely that she came to terms with the fact that she was shrinking. A secret desire of hers she never shared with anyone, much less an old coworker she hasn’t seen in years! She was beyond embarrassed as her clothes enveloped her more and more, until her vision was obstructed by thick layers of cotton and denim. The whole process only took a few minutes, but her humiliation made it feel like hours. James was still looking away, and right before her head went under Claire swore she saw an outline of a hard-on in his pants. She always wanted to hook up with him, but not at six inches tall! It was a major fantasy of Claire’s, for sure, but she always imagined it with a magical giant or stranger with a shrink ray. Not with someone she knew. Especially not with someone she wanted to respect her. The mist in the air quieted her fears down as she realized just how turned on she was getting by being small alone. She felt her breast, covered by the pile of clothes and out of James’ sight, and realized she had to have gone up at least a cup size. Maybe more. Her tits were now more than a handful, and perky as ever. Her hand grazed her nipple while she was doing this size check, and she was taken aback with waves of pleasure. Her nipples were NEVER this sensitive before, she knew it had to be the mist. She betrayed her secret feel-up session by letting out a soft moan that would’ve been otherwise undetectable, but the room had been dead quiet aside from the instructional lady’s voice, so James heard and looked over asking “Claire? You alright? Oh god what?!”

He saw her pile of clothes and his first thought was that she must have disappeared from the room and that he was stuck here alone now. He picked up the pile, his horniness now overriding his gentlemanly manners, and stuck his face in it to take in the smell of the girl he had missed. He was surprised to feel something warm in there and heard a soft “Oh”

“C-Claire?” James asked as he picked up the shirt. Right under earth laying atop her jeans that were now far to big for her, Claire’s eyes were closed and she was playing with her boobs, lost in the ecstasy of the aphrodisiac. James dick got even harder and pressed up against his jeans, wanting out.

“Claire?” he repeated, with heavy breath.

The doll sized girl snapped back to reality and opened her eyes, and saw her friend towering high above her and turned bright red. Mostly from embarrassment, but she’d have been lying if she said she wasn’t the most turned on she’d ever been in her life. James’ eyes were nearly glazed over as he looked down at the pale, freckled figure. Even with how small she was, he could see her hardened nipples jiggle atop her perky breasts as she failed to cover herself. Her skin looked velvety and smooth, James couldn’t resist anymore. He reached down to grab Claire and she scooted back in shock, but he didn’t care about making her comfortable anymore. He wanted to do so many other things for her now.

Claire screamed at the feeling of James’ hand around her small form initially, and expected James to apologize like he always did, but he was looking at her differently now. He was looking at her like she was a stream and he’d been lost in the desert for days. She was frightened at the primal energy he was giving off, but as he pulled her up into the air and looked at her in his hand, she somehow also felt relaxed in his control. He laid her on her back in his palm and started slowly grazing her tits. The dark-haired girls hips started to move, rubbing her ass into his palm, and a whimper escaped from her mouth. She looked up at him nervously with those big, blue eyes, and said “James, I’m scared-ohhh, oh...”

He cracked a grin, unable to control his arousal. He now had a beautiful little toy at his disposal, and he www not about to let their time to to waste. He had hidden fantasies of his own too.

In that moment, they both knew they were about to experience something they’d not soon forget.

END OF PART 1
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(hi guys, i’m a long time lurker and a first time poster, i wrote this fairly quickly but i hope you guys like it. i can’t wait to write more about these characters! please let me know what you think)

[Bloodthirstybutcher]

I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes. Good Work!

[jeffrey-dallas]

It's all in the name of -- SCIENCE! My favorite SW height, too...

Well-written, fine grammar, spelling, etc. Nice to see!

The white room with the pleasant voice reminded me of Trillian reading off probability ratios on the starship Heart of Gold. "We have normality. Anything that you can't cope with is therefore your own problem. Thank you."