First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

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zeromikethirty
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First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

Post by zeromikethirty » Fri Jul 16, 2021 11:22 pm

Hi guys,

A few years ago, I dabbled in writing Shrinking fiction and for the most part enjoyed myself. However, I couldn't keep up with the dedication to of updating stories, not mention I thought my writing was especially lousy in the first place. However, over the last few years, I have been slowly trying to get back into the groove of things, starting and then abandoning lots of scenarios that I intend to return to, until tonight.
I have just finished my first short in over nine years and wanted to share it with you all. It is a first draft, so of course feedback would be greatly appreciated!
Thank you for getting this far regardless!



Why Don’t You Get to Bed
By ZeroMikeThirty

“Look I know it’s a kids film, but I couldn’t help but cry at the end.” Claimed Alice, pushing open the front door, removing her red jacket in the process.

Alice was a tall 25-year-old woman, at 5’10”, with an athletic build; she had a head of curly, shoulder length brunette hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore a slim, black turtleneck jumper, a pair of tight dark jeans and a pair of red converse sneakers. She threw her keys on the nearby table and ushered in her 8-year-old daughter, Sam.

“Well, you do cry at everything.” Said Sam, removing her own yellow rain jacket as she walked through the door.
Unlike her mother, Sam was short for her age, only standing at 4’0”, and skinny. However, her hair was also a curly brunette spiral that reached just past her shoulder blades, and she shared the same piercing eyes. She wore a black t-shirt and blue jeans, before removing her own pair of matching red converse sneakers, revealing a pair of yellow socks.

“Well, when you have a Dragon Force daughter of your own go off to fight a galactic war, I’m sure you’d understand.” Alice retorted as she walked into the living room, soon followed by Sam.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Asked Alice, putting out a hand to stop Sam advancing.

“Come one, please?” pleaded Sam. “We were out at the movies, can’t I stay up a little longer?”

Alice cocked an eyebrow, before pointing to the clock hanging on the wall.

“You know the rules, bed by nine.”

“But it’s only eight-forty-eight.” Sam protested, flopping her arms by her side.

Alice had had Sam at 19, and while she always aimed to have a more casual, unique relationship with her daughter with that close an age bracket, she still needed to set SOME firm ground rules.

“Honey, by the time we stop struggling you won’t have any time left.” Alice sighed, pointing back to the clock.

“C’mon, can’t I stay up until half nine, just this once?” said Sam, subconsciously putting her hands together.

“Sam, please.” Alice replied, irritation now inching into her voice.

“Abby and Preston are allowed up until half nine!” said Sam.

“That’s good for them, but they’re under different circumstance.” Alice winced at her choice of words.

Sam, who up until this point had been hopeful, now seemed to stiffen with anger.

“How am I different?” asked Sam, her voice suddenly cold.

Alice shuffled on her feet, unsure how best to dig herself out of this one.

“Well, they’re a bit more… mature than you are.” Alice said unconvincingly.

“I’m four months older than Preston, and almost a whole year older than Abby.” Sam stated, her tone still cold.

Alice cursed herself.

“Yes, they’re older, but you’re simply not ready, yet.” Alice sighed.

Sam scowled at her.

“Not ready to go to bed thirty minutes later?” asked Sam, her hands now on her hips.

“Look, Honey, can’t we just go to bed now and we can talk about this another time?” asked Alice, rubbing her eyes in frustration. She turned away from Sam and moved towards the kitchen.

However, Sam stood firm. In fact, her entire body language seemed to have changed. She now held herself high and straight, her firsts balled at her hips.

“No.”

“Sam, go to bed.”

“Nope.”

“Bed. NOW!” said Alice at a volume that bordered a shout.

“No.” Sam repeated, defiantly.

“Excuse me?” Alice slowly turned back towards her daughter.

“I don’t want to go to bed.”

Alice squinted at her.

“Is that so?” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Sam crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. She looked her mum up and down and cracked a faint smile.

“Why don’t you get to bed. You look tired.”

Alice stared at her. What the hell was she talking about? Sam never spoke like that, certainly not to her. Alice straightened herself to her full 5’11” and pointed to the stairs.

“I will not ask you again.” She said through gritted teeth.

Sam kept her eyes fixed on her mothers, concentrating slightly, almost like she was trying to read something written on her eyebrows. After a few seconds, Sam instantly relaxed.

“Fine.” She said, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, before making her way to the stairs.

Alice blinked, before feeling a shiver down her spine.

“Just like that?” Alice cocked an eyebrow.

“Yep, is that a problem?” Sam did not stop; she was already beginning to make her way upstairs.

“I guess not.” Alice said, as she watched her go upstairs.

What on earth has gotten into her? Alice pondered; Sam was never a partially gobby girl, nor had she ever spoken to her in that tone. And then she just dropped it, with no retort? Alice’s deductions was interrupted, however; she swayed a little as she stood, suddenly feeling a headrush and another shiver running up her spine. Rubbing her temple, she began to make her way to the couch. Perhaps Sam was right; Alice definitely felt something, although tired might not be the correct diagnosis.

Alice reached the large couch, before flopping into it with a huff. She leaned her head back, her eyes closed. She absently pulled her sleeves up her jumper slightly, feeling the cuffs tickle the base of her palm. There was a soft thud sound from above, Alice opened her eyes, suddenly alert, before realizing the faint sound of light footsteps was Sam making her way their way down the landing to the bathroom.

Sighing, Alice closed her eyes again, feeling the headrush and shiver return, although this time it felt more pleasant. She felt like she was sinking into a nice, warm bath, she world falling away from her as her senses heightened. She pushed out her arms across the top of the back, feeling the texture of the upholstery in her fingertips, she never realized how soft it had felt. With another shiver, she stretched out her legs, attempting to reach the ottoman, but her feet found nothing but open space. She gave up, opting instead to stretch her legs as far as possible, wiggling her toes, realizing that she was still wearing her converse shoes. It did not matter; her socks felt so comfortable and unrestrictive on her feet, while her shoes slowly felt heavier and heavier. Alice dropped her feet down with a satisfying thud, and felt yet another shiver, her head swimming even more. The normally harsh denim of her jeans felt like silk, gently caressing her legs as if they were billowy rather than natural skintight fit, while the tension of her waistband around her hips muted as it seemed to slacken.

Shuffling in her seat, it felt as though the sofa was swallowing Alice up as the sinking sensation continued. She could have sworn she could feel he shoulder blades descend against the back of the sofa; her arms being pulled across the top with a delightful tickle in her fingertips. Alice’s head, which had been leaning back, looking directly above, had slowly tilted forward, her shoulder length hair trailing behind. With another shiver, she flopped her arms down onto her chest, the sleeves of her turtleneck now consumed up to her knuckles. Feeling her feet drag on the floor, Alice slipped herself further down into the sofa, feeling her clothes lightly tickle her skin.

Another shiver raced down her spine, not that she really noticed it. Her eyes still shut; Alice was utterly consumed by the overwhelming stimulation rushing through her body. It was not sexual per say, rather a feeling of complete relaxation. She cooed as she shifted in her heavier clothes, feeling more like blankets than the usually form fitting articles. She felt something tickle her chin and raised her hand to scratch the ich, only for her fingers to find a soft cotton material. Alice groggily opened her eyes, her vision blurry as if she slept for hours, but she could have sworn that her hand was completely consumed into her sleeve.

She blinked slowly, her head still swimming, and looked down at herself. Her hand was indeed covered by her sleeve, although it was not as if she had simply pulled them up. The material was thicker and heavier in her fingertips, the arms bagged and sagged on her forearms, accordioning at her elbows. She looked past her hands and inspected the rest of the turtleneck; she saw the culprit of her tickly chin turned out to be the jumper’s collar, now wide high and wide enough that it consumed her jaw. Continuing down, Alice saw that the cotton pooled around her torso, her breasts were lost in the folds and the hem was loosely twisted at her navel, where it was contacted with her trousers. Squinting at her jeans, she saw a similar story; the waistband draped limply against her tummy, while her thighs looked vacant like a deflated balloon. Shifting slightly, she could feel her underwear droop under the sea of denim, while her bra was twisted loosely under her breasts.

Although Alice could not comprehend what she was seeing, she was more surprised at how calm she was feeling. To her, it was almost as if she expected the entire result. However, her hazy train of thought was interrupted by the blissful sensation racing down her spine, while her head slowly spun once more. This time, Alice looked down at herself; the distinct outline of her silhouette ever so slightly reduced under the folds of clothing. She felt her head delicately brush against the sofa, her hands withdraw with her sleeves, her collar reach just under her lips and her jeans expand from her waist. For the first time, she felt her feet shift more awkwardly; while she had kept them firmly planted on the floor so far, she could feel her heel rise from the floor, or so she thought. Once her toes also lost contact and the top of her foot hit the top of her shoe, she realized that it had simply left the sole of her converse. With a few second, she felt the shoe suddenly weigh down on her feet as they too left the ground. She lightly shook her legs, feeling her feet knockabout in her shoes, the socks twisting and flopping inside, the heavy weight of the canvas sneaker swinging dully from her ankle.

Slowly, her head’s decent and feet’s accent came to a steady halt. Alice took inventory, rising slightly out her chair; her torso was completely consumed by a puddle of thick, black cotton. Her hands, which were planted on the seat either side for support, were pressed against at least six inches of excess sleeve. Shifting slightly, Alice could feel the now cavernous crotch of her jeans and underwear between her legs, however the waistline now rested only a few inches under her breasts. Looking to her feet, she was surprised to see her now clunky shoes still intact, although only hanging on by the slackened laces which now reached her mid shin like a pair of boots. While she could not see the cuffs of her jeans, as they had been tucked into her shoes, she could feel them clump around her heels with her thicker, loose socks. The rest of her jeans had ballooned at the thighs, while excess denim had piled at the top of her sneakers, all the way to her knees.

Alice smiled pleasantly to herself, before looking up into the living room; she marveled at how large everything felt. The sofa, which she normally would have to hang her legs over the arm if she were to lie down on it, now seemed to have double in length and width. The living room itself not only felt taller, but deeper. Every item felt more imposing; the television stretched wide like a small cinema screen, the adjacent bookshelf loomed above her and the stout ottoman felt more like a thickset table than a footstall.

Slowly, the pleasant haze that the shivers brought began to dissipate, and Alice began to think more clearly.
“What the fuck..?” she whispered to herself, craning her neck up to ceiling and then back down to herself.
“MUM?” Sam’s voice boomed from upstairs.

Alice froze. Shit, not now!
She shuffled forward in her seat, feeling her jeans stay in place as she did.
“MUM, CAN I SLEEP IN ONE OF YOUR TOP’S TODAY? MY PAJAMAS ARE IN THE WASH?” Sam’s voiced boomed once again, her voice sounding oddly deeper to Alice’s smaller ears.

Alice began to panic. She kicked her feet, trying to get loose of her shoes, while she clutched her jeans.

“Uh, sure honey!” Alice shouted back, wincing slightly at her higher octave voice.

Despite her efforts, Alice’s feet merely knocked around in her shoes. She leaned over towards the laces.

“WHAT? MUM?” Sam called back. Alice had not realized that her voice would not travel as strong in this state.

“I SAID YES THAT’S FINE!” Alice cried back, not realizing she sounded more frustrated than she would have liked.

Alice struggled with the laces; her hands were tangled in her gargantuan sleeves, which flopped around helplessly. She quickly pulled them back up, rolling them to her wrists. She began to tug at her laces hastily.

“CAN I WEAR YOUR EVINESCENCE SHIRT?” Sam called, this time fainter. Clearly, she was in Alice’s bedroom now.

Alice tugged at her stray lace and her comically large shoes clattered to the floor, leaving two blue, floppy socked feet dangling over them.
“YOU OKAY, MUM?” Sam called, suspicious at the distinct thuds from downstairs.

“I’M GOOD! SURE, WHICHEVER YOU’D LIKE HON!” Alice cried back, a little sweeter this time.

Alice slid off the sofa, faltering slightly on the landing. With a nonchalant thud, her jeans and underwear dropped around her ankles. Looking down at herself, she realised just the extent of what had happened to her; her turtleneck jumper hung straight, reaching just above her knees like cotton dress. The collar now hung slack around her neck, like an oversized neck brace as the material lolloped over, finally revealing her jawline once again. Her rudimentary fold work on her sleeves had unravelled on her left arm, slowly dropped well over her hands and stopping just at her knees.

“Holy…” was all Alice could murmur, before reaching down grabbing the waist of her now useless trousers. “I’ve got to hide until she goes to bed.”

Gripping her jeans to her navel, Alice began towards the kitchen, catching her feet with the pooling cuffs of her trousers. She got past the table, her walk now turning to a shuffle to keep her socks from tripping her further, the sound of fabric-on-fabric friction getting louder. After what felt like an eternity, Alice finally reached the door, the handle now coming up to her collar bone. She swung her sleeve covered hand, wrapping her fingers as tightly as she could and pushed down. To her relief, the door swung open.

Alice was about to take her first step inside when she felt something peculiar. She felt a great force under her arms. At first it felt like a faint tickle, but suddenly, the force seemed to lift. Before Alice knew what was happening, her feet left the floor, the cuffs of her jeans engulfing them on their ascent. Her hands still clutched onto the waistband but found the increasing weight of freefalling denim difficult to grip, before finally releasing them, letting them plummet to the floor. She looked down and was surprised to see her blue socks still flopping on her feet, about three feet off the floor. Alice wildly swung her neck around for a better view of the source of the lift, but found her raised collar obscure her view. However, when she looked back into the dark kitchen, she could see the shadow cast by the living room light.

The figure was tall and thin, taking up a good proportion of the doorframe. Although Alice was quite a way off the floor, the figure seemed to hold her with ease.

“I told you that you were tired.” The voice whispered.

Alice’s blood turned to ice. She felt the large hands carefully twist, rotating her around. Alice was face to face with Sam, but something was eerily different. Looking her nine-year-old daughter up and down, Alice noticed that Sam’s clothes fit oddly; the shirt she wore was loose across her arms and torso, almost vacantly, while the hem only reached just a few inches below her belly button. Her sweatpants billowed at her butt and thighs, while her calves seemed stretch the soft material. The only article of clothing that seemed to be fine were her socks.
“Sam?” Alice finally sputtered, unable to find words.

Sam beamed, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“did… did you? God.” All the last ten minutes of changes seemed to have finally caught up to Alice. How small was she? How the hell did this happen?
“Maybe.” Sam’s grin slipped into a devilish smirk, her voice was oddly deeper.
As Alice looked at her daughter more, she realised there was something familiar about what Sam was wearing, recognising the design. Etched across Sam’s chest was the faded logo of the band ‘Evanescence’. Alice’s blood once again ran icy cold; Sam was wearing Alice’s clothes.
Sam followed Alice’s eyeline, chuckling to herself.

“It’s so cool, isn’t it?” said Sam, still holding her diminished mother with relative ease. “Abby told how to do it.”

Alice stared up at her.

“Do what, Sam?”

Sam huffed impatiently.

“Swap heights, silly!”

Alice swallowed hard. She always though Abby was weird, but this is something else! Sam continued.

“Yeah, Abby does it all the time with her brother and sister. I saw them do it when I went over for tea last week!”

Alice felt a twinge of relief. When she picked Sam up from Abby’s that day, everything seemed perfectly fine, which suggests this was reversible.

“But how? Or better yet, why?” Alice felt her fear subside and an anger brew.

“Because you always boss me around, and only because you’re bigger than me!” Sam said, her own anger coming through in her voice. “Besides, look how cute you are!”

Sam shook her mother for emphasis, causing Alice’s slackened bra to slowly tumble form her jumper.

“But I’m your mother! Of course I’m bossy, I know what’s best for you!” Alice retorted.

Sam shook her head.

“No, you don’t, I shouldn’t go to bed until at least ten.”

“Ten o’clock? No one your age goes to bed that late.” Alice shot back, almost completely forgetting that she was a grown adult the size of a child, being hoisted up in the air by a child the size of a grown adult.

“And I don’t want to eat broccoli.” Said Sam, beginning to sound like she was offering terms in a negotiation.

“You need to eat vegetables, Hon.” said Alice, tiresomely. “Look, I only want to make sure you live a good and healthy lifestyle. Sure, sometimes I can be harsh, but that’s only because I want the very best for you.”

Sam frowned, avoiding eye contact.

“I guess.” Sam murmured.

“Sam, can you at least put me down?” during the conversation, Sam’s grip under Alice’s arms had started to chaff and get sore.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, unsure. Finally, Sam swung her mum around, carrying her back into the living room, Alice instinctively gripped her daughters oversized wrists for support. Sam made her way to the ottoman, before carefully placing Alice feet first on top and then taking her own seat on the couch. Alice wobbled slightly on touchdown but regained her balance.

“Thank you.” Said Alice, rolling her sleeves back up.

Although she wanted appreciated the relief from under her arms, Alice was less thrilled when she still had to looked UP into Sam’s face. Even with Sam sitting, her daughter still had at least 2 inches advantage.

“Umm, so… How did you even do this, Honey?” said Alice, trying to retain the little authority she still had.

“Magic.” Sam murmured, still avoiding eye contact.

“Magic? You’re joking, right?”

Sam raised an eyebrow, quickly looking her reduced mother up and down.

“Fine, magic then.” said Alice, rubbing her eyes. “But, I mean, what were the steps that led to, well this?”

Alice gestured between them.

“It was a size swap charm. I basically took your height and put it in me.” Sam explained, with the air of rational.

“I gathered that much,” Alice said, impatiently. “but, what, did you use a wand or something?”

Sam cracked a smile.

“A wand? Pfft no, Wands aren’t real, dumby.” Sam sat back in her seat, resting her elbows on the top of the back.

“Oh sorry, my mistake. I did only just learn magic is real from first-hand experience!” Alice shot back.

“Ooh, watch your temper, Hon.” Sam replied in a mock voice that was a rather unflattering impression of her mother. “I did the spell in my head.”

Alice stared at her. Great, now her daughter is magic BECAUSE of superpowers or something, she thought. However, suddenly Alice remembered something; If Abby did this to her siblings and somehow taught Sam, then there is a chance Alice could also learn and reverse it. Besides, it might not be such a bad skill to learn for her own sake.

“So, you just manifested me getting smaller.” Alice asked, crossing her arms.

“Sort of. I also have to will myself bigger and everything.” Sam said, finally looking towards Alice. “But it’s not that simple, there’s other things tha-”

“What things?” interrupted Alice, cursing herself for being so brash. Sam maybe a kid, but she certainly was a sharp one.

“Well, there’s these magic words you have to do in order first.” Sam began. “It’s actually kind of like doing your times tables. I would say the first word, then think about you, it helped you were in front of me, and then I think the second word, then I think about me, and then the third word.”

Alice failed to see quite how that was like the times tables, but she did follow the sequencing. Now all she needed was the three words.
“So that’s it? What were the magic words.” Asked Alice, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

Sam squinted her eyes a little. It did not seem that her mother’s attempt at nonchalant was particularly successful.

“They’re weird words.” Sam said shortly.

“I bet they are,” Alice replied, pretending to fix her rolled sleeves. “But you did a great job remembering them.”

“You do know if I tell you, I can always make you small again.” Sam said with ice in her voice.

Alice immediately flushed red and looked down at her floppy socked feet. She had neglected to consider that now this magic was out of the box, it would be hard to prevent Sam from doing this again.

“I guess not,” Alice mumbled, drawing a circle on the ottoman with her loose sock.

“Mum?”

Alice looked back to her daughter’s face, which seemed warm for the first time tonight.

“I’m sorry I shrunk you. I just see my friends doing more grown-up stuff than me and it annoys me that you don’t see me like that.” Said Sam. “I thought if I was bigger, then I could do what I wanted instead.”

“Oh, Sammy.” Said Alice, also smiling warmly. “It’s not about being grown enough. It’s because you’ve grown too fast. Literally in this case.”

They both chuckled. Alice reached for a lone tear running down Sam’s face, but could not quite reach, but Sam quickly wipes it away.

“How about this; I’ll let you stay up later, but you have to eat vegetables.” Said Alice, her hands now on her hips.

A grin grew across Sam’s face. She leaned back in her seat, resting her large feet on Alice’s ottoman, causing her to wobble uneasily.

“It depends on the time?” said Sam, pointing her foot at her reduced mother as a mock-threat.

“Let’s just keep it at ten, shall we?” Alice said, tapping Sam’s foot and hopping down from her vantage point. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Sam leaned over to her dwindled mother, who in turn caressed her oversized daughter’s cheek.

Alice kissed her daughter on the cheek, and stepped back, clapping her hands together.

“So, what’s the magic words?”

Sam opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself, that devilish smirk returning to her lips.

“You know, Mum, you DO look tired.”

Before Alice could even react, Sam had swiped her clean off her feet, her arms wrapped across her mother’s chest like a bear hug. The two giggled and screamed as Sam made her way upstairs to bed.

The End.

shinkles
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Re: First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

Post by shinkles » Sat Jul 31, 2021 10:01 pm

Amazing read would love a part 2! Great work!

Tina Tempest
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Re: First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

Post by Tina Tempest » Tue Aug 03, 2021 4:56 am

Not a bad start but the "inventory check" at the beginning, enumerating here age, figure, clothing, and features, is a common mistake new authors make. It's best to make those things organic to the text. Example --- Alice stepped across the threshold and wiped her boots on the mat, Tim could not help but notice that they were expensive boots, somewhat of a contrast to the torn jeans and ragged T-Shirt she wore. He bent his six-foot-four frame low to kiss her, she was almost exactly a foot shorter than himself. As their kiss ended, he ran his fingers through her thick auburn curls and sighed. Her pixie-like face smiled up at him, "I can tell someone is in a good mood!" she replied with a laugh ---
Note that it doesn't break up the action yet conveys the same information. In another sentence later, you can have Tim muse on her physical charms, her legs, etc. as any guy would do when he is alone with his gal. That is fine -- in small doses. "Inventory checks" have the effect of making your narrator or observer come across as a perv. Even if he's the local vicar observing that Alice's coat did not appear all that warm for this time of the year.
Hope this helps, Tiny hugs all around, Tina Tempest

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Re: First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

Post by zeromikethirty » Sat Aug 07, 2021 8:19 pm

Thank you for the feedback!

Truth be told, I actually started writing the story right at the meat and potatoes of the shrink, with the specific intention to avoid "inventory check". However, when swinging back to the introduction, I seemed to want to rush things along a little and went for the lazier option. I'll try to rectify it on later stories. Thank you!

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Re: First Draft in Need of Feedback [Why Don’t You Get to Bed] (Shrinking Out of Clothes, Process, Mother/Daughter)

Post by Xinunar » Fri Nov 19, 2021 1:50 am

Also, check for consistencies. Is she 5'10 or 5'11? If she had Sam at 19, and now she's 25, then Sam cannot be 8. She hints that Sam has some development disorder, that she needs to go to bed earlier than her friends, who are even younger, but then that subject just drops.

BTW, I liked it.

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