Mini Vacation

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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by AB23 » Mon May 16, 2022 10:39 am

I hope this continues…


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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by Xinunar » Tue May 17, 2022 1:07 am

AB23 wrote:
Wed Apr 27, 2022 2:12 am
Nah, this makes it easier to follow. Posting them as individual topics takes away from the single thread nature of it.
I wish it let us manually insert page breaks, instead of just doing it automatically, after a certain length.

And I will be posting the final chapters soon. I promise.

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Re: Mini Vacation Golden You 70

Post by javiersolana » Tue May 17, 2022 11:47 am


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Re: Mini Vacation Golden You 70

Post by Xinunar » Fri May 20, 2022 11:12 pm

javiersolana wrote:
Tue May 17, 2022 11:47 am
I like it!

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Mini Vacation Part 40 - Nymphominia

Post by Xinunar » Wed May 25, 2022 11:10 am

"Michael," Margaret whispered. "Michael honey, can you lift the cage top. I need to get up and about."

"Huh? What?" Michael answered groggily. He was just beginning to wake from a deep sleep and caught his hand reaching over to hit the snooze button, before he realized that it was his mother and not the radio. Ouch! That would be bad. The cage would have protected her, but still.... It made him glad that he had used the cage instead of just putting her stuff on the dresser. The image of slamming his tiny mother also helped bring him fully awake. "Yeah, OK. Do you need any help?"

"Just with the roof," she said. She and Stephanie both grabbed a few things--towels, clothes and the like--and bounded out of the room. A few minutes later Michael heard water running in the bathroom. Michael wondered about Stephanie not saying anything to him, like, "good morning."

"Is Jackson running that for them?" asked Misty. That gave Michael a start. He did not think she was awake and had almost forgotten she was even there beside him. He wondered if that was why Steph didn't say anything. Maybe she didn't want to wake Misty. She had given him a quick smile, hadn't she? He thought she had; but then again, that might have been more of a smirk.

"Uh, I don't think so," he answered, "the handle's not very stiff." He also wondered if his mother would have been so blasé about a girl in his bed, if she were normal size. "Guess I'll find out soon enough," he thought. "Hey, who was watching us last night?"

"Do you mean who was it that you saw – or who watched us the most?" she asked.

Michael looked at her, slack-jawed, for a moment then just said, "Never mind."

Misty giggled. "Let's return the favor. Think we could sneak up on a couple of minis?"

"Only if they're distracted."

"If they're not, what would be the point?"

The bathroom was almost directly across the hall from Michael's bedroom, with a second door leading to the master bedroom. Michael tip towed to the door and peeked in, with Misty close behind him. The minis were both standing there, naked. His mother was on the counter, and misty was on the faucet over the sink that she was filling with water.

"Oh great," said Stephanie. "The handle wasn't that hard to lift, but I don't have enough weight to push it down!" Margaret carefully climbed over to help her. The two stood on the flat-topped faucet, on either side of the handle, and tried to push it together. On the second try, Margaret slipped and fell into the water. Michael started to rush in to help her before he heard the two of them laughing.

"I've got an idea," said Stephanie. She got a damp wash cloth and pushed it over the handle, covering it like a tablecloth. Then she walked out on top of it. The damp cloth was much less slippery than the chrome was. Stephanie bounced up and down on the handle a few times, until the water went off. She then motioned for Margaret to move aside and did a cannonball into the water, with a loud "bonzai!" The sink was almost completely full, so some water splashed up on the counter and even onto the floor.

"Hey!" said Michael. "Who's going to clean that up?" The two looked startled, but then smiled at him.

"Michael!" said Misty, punching him in the arm. "If you hadn't given us away, we might have really seen something. Morning, Steph! Morning, Mrs. Kincaid!"

"Morning, Misty!" the two sang back, in unison. “Morning, Master!”

"Oh, Michael," said Margaret, "speaking of cleaning. Will you please clean the other sink? It ah... is easier to clean than the bedpan."

Michael sighed and went to work.

"That hurt," he said, back in his room.

"It was supposed to," said Misty, "I was waiting my turn, and then you go and announce us. Had they already seen you?"

"No.... Misty, that's my mom! I shouldn't have even gone there. If they had been 'doing something', watching would be... perverted."

"They watched us! Besides, they're both minis--at least, for now. You're allowed to watch; your expected to watch! God I still can't believe my best friend is a mini."

"Watching us was different. They fixed us up! It was like... like when a baby takes his first steps. The parents run to get the camera, and if he's naked--all the better! They're not doing it for a sexual rush; they're just... happy. And proud and... all that. And what do you mean, your friend's a mini? So what? You've never had a short friend before? Are you afraid of being a 'Mini's Shadow'?"

Misty glared for a moment, then her look turned into something more like pity.

"Michael, you just don't get it. First, I never minded being 'Stephie's Shadow'. I was proud of it! But I can't be that anymore. She wouldn't want me to, even if I could. And she doesn't want you to, either! That's what I was talking about last night. She wants you to be her man, maybe even her master, but definitely not her follower. She's not just Short Stephanie; she's Mini Stephanie. They're... different."

"Did you ever meet my cousin, Frankie?" She only paused a moment before continuing. "His mother, my Aunt Susie... well, she used to be my aunt, and she used to be Susie. Too Tall Susie, they used to call her. She was like six foot one and really pretty. But she hated being so tall, so she took a mini--a two-fifth pill. They told Frankie about it and made sure he was OK with it, but they didn't tell him that they would have to get rid of his dog. He got home from the mini clinic, and she was gone. They had given her away behind his back. They thought he'd be so excited about his new mini mom, that it wouldn't matter. But he really loved that dog, and he just cried and cried."

"That's sad," said Michael, "but what does that...?"

"I wasn't finished. They told him that having a mini was a lot like having a pet--only better. And boy, were they right! He started treating her just exactly like a dog: petting her, playing with her, training her, disciplining her--he did a lot of that, at first, because he was still mad at her. Three years later, and she's still his pet. She acts almost exactly like his dog used to--except she knows more tricks, and I don't think he ever did anything sexual with his dog. He even renamed her, Tinkerbell. She's not Too-Tall Susie anymore. She's not even Susie anymore. She's just Tinkerbell."

Michael looked at her in shock--almost horror. "My.... My mom...'s not like that!" he stammered in a hoarse whisper.

Misty cocked her head and looked meaningfully at the cage on the dresser. Then she looked back at him and said reassuringly, "You're not like that, Michael. I mean, I'm glad you didn't take things that far. But I bet you could have. I bet.... I'm not trying to say bad things about your mother. I really like her! And I'm glad you didn't go there. At least, not too far. And I hope she takes the antidote tomorrow and takes away the temptation. But Steph can't take the antidote. She's stuck. She's a mini.

“But don't think I'm going to let you turn her into Starling, or Tinkerbell or... whatever, either! She's a mini, but she's still my best friend." And with that, Misty left the room. A minute later, he heard the shower running.

. . .

"I can't believe you talked me into this. You almost got killed! You almost... I almost lost you!" Michael was turned around in the front passenger seat, looking at his mother – and occasionally Jackson and Stephanie – in the back of the car. Misty was driving. She pointed out that Michael only had a learner's permit – and no, minis don't count as supervising adults.

"We'll be a lot more careful," Margaret answered. "When you fall off a horse, you get right back on it. You're too much your father's son not to know that. Michael, I really just have a few hours of 'vacation' left. At 5:00, I become Joyce's mini for a whole day! And I need to take the antidote tomorrow evening, so I'll be recovered enough for work on Monday. So, this is my last hurrah, as a mini. It'll probably be my last chance to ever ride Polly again."

Michael fumed but didn't say anything else. She didn't 'have' to be Dr. Miller's mini any more than Steph 'had' to be Jenny's. But in a way they did. Backing out would be like welching on a bet.

"Why are we in the bathroom again?" Michael asked. The others were browsing around the shop while Mr. McHenry gave someone else a flying lesson. It turned out that the publicity from Margaret’s mishap had been great for his business. He gave Michael and Jackson a couple of rolls of coupons for free lessons.

"I had to pee," said Stephanie.

"Didn't you go just before we left?"

"I have a tiny little bladder, OK? I have to go so often at school that Jackson just keeps a supply of panty liners. When I have to go in the middle of class, he just slips me in his pocket and...."

"Whoa! Way to much information!"

Stephanie didn't say anything to that. She thought it was just the right amount of information, for someone who still fantasized about having her as his own mini--and more. Let him ponder that image for a while!

"So, what's up?" she asked.

"Uh, you asked me in here. Remember?"

"Because something's up. So, what's up?"

Michael had to think how to respond to that. He wasn't even sure, himself. "It's just... Misty. She's still your friend, you know? She'd look out for you and all. But she doesn't see... she doesn't think you're still you!"

"And you thought that would change, overnight?"


"You're good, Michael. But not that good--or so I've heard."

"Heard or saw?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. "Have you ever met Misty's aunt? Uh, her mini aunt?"

"Oh," said misty. "Susie. Actually, she's not her aunt anymore. She's not Susie anymore either. But I refuse to call her 'Tinkerbell', even though that's her legal name, and the only thing she answers to. Why do...?" she looked at his expression and body language--a mixture of worry and shame. "Michael, she's not your mother. And she's sure not me! And you're not Frankie."

"Not my mother," he said, softly, "'and sure not me!' You think she's kind of like my mother, don't you?"

Stephanie sighed. "A little. But Michael, you're not Frankie. Yeah, you were or are dominating her a bit. But you've been careful not to go too far. You love her and want her to be happy. I think Frank and Frankie loved--maybe even still love--Susie, but not as selflessly or unconditionally as you do. They really resented her becoming a mini. Frank loved tall women and couldn't deny her anything. He couldn't even say no when she said she wanted to stop being a tall woman. But when she did, she stopped being someone he couldn’t say no to. And he resented her for taking his amazon away. Same with Frankie. She took his mommy away--and his dog. That's a big double-loss for a little kid."

"How do you know all that?"

Stephanie blushed. "I don't--not really. I got most of the story second-hand. And I read a bunch of books from Dr. Wiseman's office. And I used to talk to her about Susie, because... I was afraid something like that would happen to me. But it won't, Michael."

"But it could happen to my mom--if I wasn't careful. You know the chances of her getting stuck as a mini are way higher than the warning on Seven Down says - for a bunch of reasons. There's a real good chance she's going to be a mini, if not now, then soon, and for the rest of her life. I'm scared that inside her is Tinkerbell, waiting to come out. And inside me is Frankie."

"Michael, one of the things I learned from Dr. Wiseman is that we are not immutable. We can be molded by what happens to us and by the people around us, especially the people we love. Your mother is kind of submissive. But that just means that she's a little easier to mold than most people--not that she can be molded, and they can't. And it would be even easier for you to do because she loves you so much. But no, you couldn’t turn her into Tinkerbell, just by not being careful. You'd have to try to do it. And you won't. You're not Frankie, and you're not going to become Frankie."

Michael thought about how he had already treated his mother, since she became a mini: the cage, the collar, the chocolate, the nudity. "It's different for you, Steph," he said. "It's not just you and Jackson. I mean he's better than me to start with, but you've also got your parents and Dr. Wiseman and your cheer squad and me looking out for you. Mom's just got me. And if I don't say no to me, no one else will."

"You're wrong. She's got me, and my mom and dad, and Mr. McHenry--and Misty. I hope she gives you lots of nooky, but you better know that if you get out of line, I'm going to hear about it! Come on, I bet they're ready for the lesson."

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Mini Vacation Part 41 - What Do You Do with a Shrunken Sailor?

Post by Xinunar » Sat May 28, 2022 11:08 pm

Michael felt reassured as he rejoined the group for the flying lessons. He thought about what Stephanie had said. He was glad that she promised she wouldn’t let him go overboard with his mother. That made him feel relieved. But more than that, it meant she was going to remain a presence in his life - somehow.

He also pondered what she had said about Misty. He already knew that she was fixing Misty up with him, but now he wondered if she had also been fixing her up with his mother – in a way. It looked like Stephanie was making sure that both he and his mother would have someone to look after them, after she went back to Baltimore. It was classic Stephanie. And it made him more determined than ever to keep her a bigger part of his life than just phone calls and IM.

He was so thrilled that she was committing to stay in his life, he was practically walking on air. But now he wanted more.

"The Navy doesn't ask for volunteers to get minned. Everyone on The Tom Thumb was already a mini before they got recruited," the man mini was telling Misty, Margaret and Jackson. "The crew are all people who became minis on their own or got minned on the battlefield – or like me, and got in trouble with the law." The man looked in his late twenties to maybe as old as Margaret. He could have been even older; it was very hard to tell with minis. Gravity didn't bother them much, and it was hard to see the few wrinkles they might have. The tall young man with him looked about 22, and enough like him that Michael pegged them as brothers.

"Robert here is a submariner," said Misty. She pronounced it sub-mare-in-er. "And this is his brother, Bill. Isn't it kind of awkward, being your brother's mini?" Leave it to Misty to ask the rude questions. Robert was so irritated by the question that he let his brother answer. "Actually, he's not my mini. I'm his personal assistant. The Navy pays me to help him, while he's on leave. And, in case you're wondering, no, we don't act like master and mini. I know some service men and their PA's do, but... we're not gay. He's not gay. I'm not gay. We don't do gay things together!"

'Some' was an understatement. Most 'toy soldiers' and their PA's were in master-mini relationships – especially if one interpreted the phrase broadly. Not all masters were dominant over their minis, and in some cases the reverse was true. Michael imagined – no, knew – that if his father had been minned in Iraq, his mother would have still been submissive to him. It was their nature. Maybe Stephanie was right, and it could be changed, but it would have taken a lot more than a little thing like a mini dart to do it.

"And it's sub-ma-reen-er, not sub-mare-in-er," said Robert. "You're thinking of Namor."


"Namor, the submariner," sang Jackson.

"Prince of the deeeeep." Jackson, Michael, Robert and Bill all sang together, forming an impromptu barbershop quartet. The humor of it seemed get Robert over his anger at Misty. Misty was charmed that way - doubly charmed, or at least double-D.

"I'm not gay either, but look at them," said Misty, gesturing to Margaret and Stephanie. "They're hot!"

The brothers looked at each other. "Lesbo," said Robert. "Big time," said Bill.

"I am not! Just ask Michael. We slept together last night!"

"Slept?" said Robert. "If it was me, I wouldn't be sleeping!"

"No. But you'd be unconscious,” said Misty. “Six of one, half... maybe one and a quarter of the other."

"How did you get in trouble with the law?" asked Michael. It might have been an even more rude question than Misty's, but Michael saw him eyeing his mother, and he knew that she had a thing for soldiers. In fact, she had that 'hey, sailor' look right now.

"Armed robbery," he admitted. "I got in with a gang and robbed a liquor store. Someone got hurt – not killed, thank God – but hurt. I pushed the shopkeeper hard, when I saw him reaching for something. He knocked over a bottle, then landed on it with his hand. He lost a lot of feeling and mobility in that hand, and I got eighteen months in a min-max. They went easy on me because... well, difficult home life.

“For the record, I do feel badly about doing it, and especially about the guy's hand. But I also think I've paid for it, as best I could. Most people would agree I've lost more than he did, and I also serve my country."

He did not elaborate that the 'difficult home life' was due to his father and mother being killed in a fire and having to raise his little brother on nothing but debt.

"So, the antidote didn't work?" asked Margaret.

"Usually doesn't for the ex-cons," he said. "It's partly physical; the lungs atrophy a lot in eighteen months. And for some reason scars and such make the antidote less likely to work. If you plan to take the antidote, watch out. Even a tattoo can screw your chances."

"I know," said Margaret.

"And partly it's psychological," he finished.

"Learned helplessness," said Misty. "I learned about it in AP Psych."

"Yeah, that's part of it. But there's more to it than that." He looked at Margaret. "Something deep inside you gets scared to grow back and just... balks. Try to make sure you're in a good place, emotionally, before you take it. Of course, that's easier said than done, when you've been in a min-max."

Everyone was quiet for a minute, then he said, "Hey. You're Stephanie Miller, the famous Starling! We saw you and Magpie on Oprah this morning. Y'all made some enemies there, girl." He extended a hand and Bill a finger. They exchanged pleasantries until Mr. McHenry came back with Polly and Magellan.

The enemies comment was because Margaret had told, in some graphic detail, how David Conner had treated her, while he held her prisoner. That just was not done. Minis didn't tell tales about their masters – even abusive ones. The interview, which they had recorded the day before, aired that morning. The boys, both Michael and Jackson, had been forbidden to watch it. Margaret felt she needed to tell it, but she didn't feel the boys needed to hear it.

Mr. McHenry had new policies about the lessons. He would not teach two minis at once unless there were two guardians to hold their tethers. And he kept a paint-ball shotgun handy. The pellets would sting an Eagle, and stick to it, forcing it to land. He also had a net, in case that ever happened.

Of course, it didn't. Margaret’s earlier adventure was a freak mishap. The lesson went without a hitch this time. Misty watched while ‘Magpie and Starling’ flew on Polly and Magellan, with Michael and Jackson holding the leads.

The only thing Margaret was disappointed about was that Aaron refused to let her pet Polly without the muzzle. Polly was used to it, though, and didn't seem to mind the muzzle much. And she was happy to see Margaret. When Aaron wasn't looking, Margaret would stick her fingers through the mesh of the muzzle and pet Polly's soft, dry tongue.

Misty, Robert and Bill enjoyed chatting while they watched the lesson. Bill was a little too old for Misty and not her type, and Robert was not in the market for an 'owner', but Misty enjoyed flirting for its own sake.

"So, the tallest guy on the sub is eighteen inches tall, and the smallest is six?"

"Right, but the smallest isn't a guy; she's a gal."

"But six inches--that's...."

"She was short to begin with, and she took an experimental eighth scale. You won't see it on the market for a while – not until they get an antidote that works!"

"I still don't get it. What good is a tiny submarine?" Robert and Bill both laughed, and Robert answered: "Actually, there are lots of uses for tiny subs: scouting, spying, mine laying, exploring deep sea caverns.... But the Tom Thumb isn't a tiny sub. It just has a tiny crew! The smaller cabin space makes it easier to maintain hull integrity – we can dive deeper. And we have a crew of a hundred and four, but we only need as much air, water and food as one normal-sized man."

After a fun flight that masqueraded as a lesson (mostly for tax purposes), Aaron took the birds back in. He took Magellan first, because he knew Polly would behave, and Margaret was enjoying the visit. Michael and Jackson brought the girls some Gatorade, and Michael noticed something that gave him a scare.

"Mom, your hair!"

"What, is it a mess?"

"No.... It looks like it's falling out!"


Michael rushed her to the restroom to let her look in a mirror.

"Oh, this is awful! And right before my date with Joyce and Richard! Uh, our get-together. And what is it? Allergies? Did David Conner slip me something? Oh, that awful man! Am I having a reaction to the mini?"

That last thought was very frightening. Bad reactions to the mini pill (other than getting stuck) were very rare, but they could be very bad. Stephanie could never be restored, because some of her internal organs had shrunk more than the rest of her. Her lungs, for example, were too small, relative to her size. Ironically, they worked better than they had before, since a lung’s effectiveness was proportional to its surface area, not its volume.

Margaret tugged at some hair, which came out easily. Michael suggested calling 911.

"Hey, Michael, Mrs. Kincaide!" Jackson shouted through the door. "We've got Dad on the phone, and he thinks he knows what it is."

Michael almost knocked Jackson down with the door, then mentally kicked himself. He should be more careful with minis about. Stephanie was on Jackson's shoulder and just yelled: "Michael!"

"Here, let me put him on speaker," said Jackson.

"Margaret?" asked Dr. Miller. "No need to be frightened, dear. You just got a sunburn." "What?" "That's right, a sunburn. But your skin is so thin that the rays penetrated much deeper than they would on a full-size person. Remember, I've already examined you, and the damage and increased cancer risk were minimal. Nothing to worry about. But hair follicles are very sensitive to radiation; that's why people lose their hair under radiation therapy. Margaret? Are you still with me?"

"I'm going bald."

"Only temporarily," said Dr. Miller. "Your hair will start growing back almost immediately. Margaret, I'm an oncologist. I see bald women all the time. I don't find it a turn-off. In fact, I know a lot of very cute bald women."

"Margaret, it's me." Joyce's voice replaced Richard's. "Can we talk privately?"

Michael took Margaret into the kitchenette and left her to talk to Joyce.

"Richard was telling the truth; actually, he was understating. He likes bald women.... And so do I."


"Hey, it's not that weird! It's not even kinky. I just think it's pretty. Whenever the Star Trek movie is on, I flip to it, just to see Persis Khambatta. And I don't even like sci fi!"

"Well, I think it's ugly. I'm ugly!"

"Shedding isn't pretty – but smooth skin is! Magpie, honey... if I had a mini, who thought bald was ugly, I wouldn't make her shave. I promise! I wouldn't even bring it up. Well… maybe every once in a while. But you need to get bald anyway. Dead hair could interfere with the Kirlian energy flow and make the antidote ineffective. Fillings and the like will grow with you, because your body has incorporated them as part of itself. But your hair is being rejected by your body. It has to go – by the roots!”

“Ugh,” said Margaret. “I suppose I can get a wig.”

“Of course, you can, Dear,” said Joyce. “But not tonight. I love the bald look. So, just for tonight, dress to please your mistress. No wig!”

Margaret made a complaining moan.

"Are you going to disappoint your mistress?"

"No, Ma'am," said Margaret.

“I'll see you at five."

Margaret closed the phone, wrapped both arms around it and took it back to the others.

The Aerie was a very mini-friendly shop - having been designed for Aaron's deceased wife. Using the catwalk, she could roam all over the shop, without fear of getting stepped on. She was disappointed to find that her handsome sailor had left – hightailed it, as soon as he saw her shedding. So, what do you do with a shrunken sailor? Fuck 'im.

Oh well, she thought, with the kids around, I don’t know how we could get to the 'high ho and up he rises' part anyway.

She dried her eyes and resolved herself to being a baldy for the evening. Joyce might have been just trying to make her feel better – or she could have been telling the truth about finding it attractive. But even so, she didn't want to just be pretty for Richard and Joyce; she wanted to feel pretty for herself!

A minute later, Jackson got a text message from his mother. "It says, 'see if you can find Margaret a dress like this. Love, Mom.'" He held up the phone to show a picture of Persis Khambatta, in a very skimpy shimmy, from the Star Trek movie. Margaret smiled. It was pretty. They headed to the big Mini Mart downtown.

They picked up several items at Mini Mart and got Margaret a full makeover; the downtown shop had a mini beautician. Michael, Stephanie, and Mindy debated if Margaret should keep her bush. She had not gotten sunburned there; but Misty pointed out that, with the rest of her bare, it would just look like a smudge, from a giant's perspective. And if Joyce had a thing for bald heads, she probably liked bald bottoms as well. The three teens snickered at that, and Stephanie whispered in Jackson’s ear to explain the double entendre.

Margaret tried to join in that discussion, but Michael shushed her. Her face burned and her pussy tingled, when she realized that her master was going to decide the fate of her bush without even consulting her. Her face burned even hotter when Michael set her down on the beautician’s table and said, “Mom, you do what the beautician says, now.” Did he have to tell everyone she was his mother while he was treating her like his slave? When she stripped off her dress, she wiped moisture from between her legs as surreptitiously as she could.

With Stephanie perched on her shoulder, Misty stepped away from Michael, while he told the beautician what he wanted. Jackson was wandering around the shop to see if they had anything interesting.

“What do you think?” she whispered. “Want to be treated like that?”

“Not by Jackson,” said Stephanie, cringing.

“No, silly. By Michael, or maybe by me,” said Misty.

“Uh, I don’t know,” said Stephanie. “Maybe sometimes. Not all the time. On special occasions.”

Misty grinned. She turned her head and began to lick Stephanie, who screamed in shock. Stephanie tried to pull away, but Misty put a hand behind her back. She nibbled the tiny tits then licked Stephanie from her belly to her face before pulling back and grinning even broader.

“You big bully,” said Stephanie.

The beautician was a foot-tall mini man, who gave the impression of being gay. That might have been affected. People seemed to want their male beauticians to be gay – especially if they were getting a Brazilian. He was very lean. To Margaret he looked seven-feet tall and almost alien in appearance, with a graceful beauty that very tall people didn’t have, due to their weight. She understood now what Stephanie meant, when she said that larger minis were in some ways more intimidating than normal-sized people.

Michael told him what he wanted for his mini. It was a bare-to-the-walls sale – everything must go. When they were done, she didn't have a spec of peach fuzz on her body. The only hair she had left was in her nose, and that was neatly trimmed. Even her eyebrows and eyelashes had to go, since the sunburn reached there. "You don't want a lash falling in your eyes during dinner," said Stephanie, who was back with Misty. "Mom and Dad won't be able to help you get it out."

Margaret’s whole body was painted with a flesh-tone makeup. It was a shade lighter than her arms – the most tan places on her body. Putting several coats on the areas where hair used to be made her tan lines vanish. Her fingernails and toenails were painted a rose color to match her lipstick.

"Wow!" said Misty. "You look hot! Do you think we have time...?"

"No!" said Stephanie and Margaret together.

"You are not smearing this," said Steph.

"Sorry Misty, but I have promises to keep."

"And miles to go before you sleep," Misty finished with a giggle.

Back home, Margaret and Stephanie worked together to alter the dress they bought and make it look more like the one in the photo of Persis Khambatta. Margaret would not let the boys see her until she had it on. The girls insisted that she looked like some kind of pixie, but she thought she looked like a naked mole rat. "Then you better stay away from Michael," said Stephanie. "He used to love Kim Possible." "If he calls me Rufus, he's grounded."

The boys ooh'd and ah'd, when they saw her, and no one called her Rufus. Margaret struck a pose, like the one in the photo Joyce sent. Jackson took several pictures with his phone, until he felt he had one that was a near-perfect match. He showed this to the others, flipping back and forth between the two. Margaret conceded, it did look good. It took her a minute to realize that meant she looked good. Jackson asked if he should send the photo to his mother, and they debated the pros and cons of giving her a teaser.

"How ‘bout this?" asked Jackson. "I'll send this text, and she'll have to hit 'accept' to see the picture." The message read: "Spoiler alert."

"What do you think?" asked Stephanie. She modeled her giantess costume for him--a simple shift, hardly fancier than a man's tee shirt, with a jagged hem and a tear that ran from above her right breast to just below the left. "It's got a tear in the front," he said, dryly.

"That's supposed to be a lightning bolt – like The Flash." "More like the flasher. I can see your nipple." "No, you can not! Not unless I... do... like... this." "Oh. You're right. My mistake."

"Come here. Let me put you into a better light." Michael lifted her to a high shelf and looked up at her. Stephanie put her hands in her lap to hold the dress tightly to her. "Are you trying to look up my dress?"

"Wha? No! Stephanie.... I've seen you naked – a lot."

"That's artistically nude. Peeking up my dress is completely different."

"Why would I want to peek up your dress, when I see you 'artistically nude' all the time?"

"Why were you trying to get a glimpse of my nipple?"

"Uh, okay, good point," he conceded. "Two good points, actually. But I wasn't trying to look up your dress. I just thought it would help me picture you as a giantess, if I was looking up at you."

Smiling, Stephanie stood at the edge of the shelf and struck a pose, with her hands on her hips like the Jolly Green Giant. "Wow!" said Michael.

"You like?" "Uh, huh." "So, does Mickey have a little gts fetish?" "A little. Plus, I can see up your dress."

"You're incorrigible!"

"What were you doing, trying to corrige me in the first place?"

While Stephanie was visiting with Michael, Misty took the opportunity to have a heart-to-heart with Margaret. "Are you really going to take the antidote tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yes Misty, I really am."

"I was just... kind of worried about you," she said, with a tone that said she meant it. "Did you ever meet my Aunt Susie?"

* * *

"Is this really necessary?" asked Margaret. She and Stephanie were in her cage, which Michael had moved to her bedroom, and Stephanie was tying her hands behind her back with a soft cord.

"No. But it'll be cute," she said. "Don't worry, they're really easy to untie. I'm using a plain bow knot. You could get out of it yourself in about a minute." The doorbell rang. "Tell 'em to wait," she said to Michael. "Jackson! Tell them to wait right there. We'll be down in a minute!" yelled Michael. Stephanie hurriedly tied Margaret’s ankles and positioned her on the bed.

Michael started to lift Stephanie out of the cage, but she warded him off.

"I haven't done this in a while," she said. Stephanie leaped up and grabbed the wire that formed the top of the cage wall. She crouched for just a moment, then pushed off to bring herself up into a handstand. Her dress flopped down over the rope belt she wore at her waist, but her legs were crossed, so it wasn't lewd, although her bum was fully exposed. She turned her head, winked, and kissed the air in the general direction of Michael and Misty. A one-handed handstand was something she could never have done at full size, so there were some advantages to being a mini.

Unexpectedly, the knife that Mr. McHenry gave her slipped out of her belt and fell to the desktop below her. It brushed against her arm on its way down; and, though it did not cut her, it startled her and caused her to slip. She fell over backwards and landed... neatly in Misty's outstretched hand. She grinned up at her giant friend.

"I meant to do that," she said and blew an errant strand of hair out of her face. They all laughed.

"Wait just a minute," said Michael. He reached into the cage and scooped up the 'helplessly' bound Margaret. "Michael!" chided Stephanie. "I had her situated." Michael rolled his eyes and brought Margaret up to give her a kiss. She kissed him back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said.

"I'm not promising that!” said Margaret. “I don't think Richard's your type!"

He grinned and kissed her again and set her back into her cage. He headed down to greet the Dr's. Miller and gave them a house key and temporary custody of Margaret. "She's up in her room," he said with a wink.

"I'll tell you in the car," he said to Jackson.

They had to drop Jackson and Misty at Jackson's grandmother's. Jackson had friends coming over, and Misty had to get her car. Stephanie and her parents would be spending the night at the Kincaide’s, though Stephanie and Michael would not be home until late.

Michael was risking a ticket for driving without a license, but he promised his mother and Stephanie's parents that he would be extra careful. Michael and Stephanie looked at each other with matching smiles as they headed to their friend Dexter's. Michael started the car and said, "Let the games begin!"

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Mini Vacation Part 42 - A Tale of Two Minis

Post by Xinunar » Sun Jun 05, 2022 1:27 am

The halls of Empyrean are filled with flashes of lightening and crashes of thunder more intense than she has seen or heard in years, if ever!

Of course, there are always tiny static-electrical discharges throughout the citadel. They provide ambient lighting and a kind of white noise, that all giants, even lowly hill giants, find comforting. And on any given day, there will be a few major thunderbolts to shake things up – but nothing like this! The Council of Elders have summoned young Galefreya, a mere apprentice sage, on the most auspiciously stormy night since... well, since the night she was born, to hear her parents tell it.

Thrombolt Stratarus, eldest of her clan and acting Allégement of all Empyrean, presides over the Council. He is great uncle to Galefreya and kindly disposed to her, if distant. He stands a head and a half taller than she does – about twenty-five feet to her twenty (and a half). She was working on her journeyman level at miniology (or 'anthropology', she corrected herself) and had gotten the habit of mentally converting units to those of the min.

"About time you got here, youngling," his voice rumbles.

"I am sorry, Uncle. I was summoned suddenly, in the middle of the night, and I'm afraid the page had a hard time waking me over the storm."

"Not uncle here, child. This is Empyrean business." That meant that this wasn’t not just the business of the citadel, or of the city, but of the sky folk!

"The clouds portell of trouble brewing in the lowlands, involving the little people. You are a student of their curious culture," (Cultures, she thinks but doesn't correct him.) "one of the few to take such an interest in them. Old Thorombor, your mentor, is the only one who knows them better, and he is too old to Travel. The Council has decreed that you shall be sent on a mission among them. Gather what knowledge you can and try to find the source of these ill portents. You will be provided a ring, which has the charm of reduction. It will let you walk among the min without attracting undue notice."

"You mean I'm going to be a mini giantess!?"

"Uh, well, I uh.... You'll be able to go back and forth; you just take off the ring. I just thought...."

"I'm just teasing, Dexter," laughed Stephanie. "It sounds great! I love the setup."

Everyone in the gaming group was happy to have Stephanie back, but none more so than Dexter. He often complained about the paucity of female gamers and thought that getting more minis into role-playing was an excellent idea. He also had a bit of a crush on Stephanie (all the guys did), but it was not the same as Michael's. He thought of himself as a kind of big brother to the whole group, but Stephanie was the only female and very cute, so she was special. Her minning had only made him even more protective of her.

Dexter was a senior and would be leaving for college in the fall. He had already been accepted at Stanford. He was a nerd's nerd, the kind of guy trekies called star warrior and star warriors called trekie. But he was also cool, in a 'king of the nerds' kind of way. He was a problem solver, and people looked up to him for that.

Earlier, before the others arrived, he had complemented Stephanie's outfit. Michael observed that it was almost perfect for a giantess, but the collar seemed out of place. Dexter grabbed a tiny screwdriver and a circuit tester. He stuck the screwdriver in a small hole in the collar, twisted and touched it with the tester. With a faint click, the collar sprung open. They hid it and the leash in a drawer – wanting the gang to see Stephanie, as much as possible, as the same old Stephanie.

Stephanie had mixed feelings about this. She had stopped trying to pretend she wasn’t a mini, and going uncollared was a little bit dangerous. But she knew she was safe enough at Dexter’s house, with Michael and Dexter and the gang. And she didn’t want to appear ungrateful.

She was also very impressed, having read how supposedly unpickable the lock was. If life was fair, she thought, girls would be hanging on Dexter like a rock star. But he was painfully shy around girls--even Stephanie. She thought that if there ever was a guy who needed a mini or two it was Dexter. She didn't think he had ever dated and doubted, sans mini, that he ever would.

He also wove a good game scenario. He was a big fan of X-files-style storytelling – a big mystery as a backdrop to otherwise unconnected mini adventures. Stephanie doubted that they would find out what the storm giants were worried about before he headed off to college. Not that it would matter to her, she would be going back to Baltimore in a few days. And not that it really mattered to the game either. The point of the adventure wasn't to solve the mystery; the mystery was just an excuse to adventure. For that matter, the game itself was mostly just an excuse to socialize.

But it was fun, sitting on Michael's shoulder, pretending to be a twenty-foot giantess – while he pretended to be a three-foot hobbit, sitting on hers. When Dorfus Stoutbelly sat on Galefreya's shoulders, he would only look a little larger to her than Stephanie did to Michael. They all got a kick out of that. Only Dave McCormick showed any resentment at Stephanie's special treatment; he'd always wanted to play a giant. Dexter just pointed out that life, and he gestured to Stephanie, was not fair.

"It's not fair," Margaret whined. "I'm supposed to be on my vacation, and instead I'm a slave to a giant lesbian sadist."

"Stop whining and keep pumping," said Joyce. "You're so close. Just a little... bit... more. Oh, oh, ohhh!"

"Ohh! Don't make me laugh, when I'm so short of breath already!"

"It's good for you," said Joyce "I told you, hypobaric exercise, a day before re-enlargement, can help reduce short-term lung atrophy and increase the odds of success."

Margaret was in a small hypobaric chamber. It looked something like an over-sized crock pot or pressure cooker. It had a glass top, a built-in pump to regulate the pressure, and an array of monitoring equipment. There was also a built-in speaker, which allowed Joyce to hear what Margaret was saying (and even her under-her-breath muttering). The internal pressure was set to 2/3 atmosphere--about 11,000 feet. Margaret finished a set of 200 pushups before Joyce let her stop and catch her breath and get a drink of water.

"Why do I trust you so much?" asked Margaret, breathing between every word. "I bet you'd just love it if I got stuck and stayed your mini."

"Yes and no," said Joyce. "Yes, the idea of having you as my mini excites me. I won’t deny that – though we haven't even given it a trial run yet. And no, I don't want you to get stuck. Not if you don’t want it. If it does happen, it won't be because I was a lousy doctor – or worse, a lousy friend."

"Thank you, Joyce. You are a good friend – even if you do torture me and keep me naked."

Joyce smiled down at her. She was glad they splurged and rented the luxury-model hypobaric chamber, with the glass top that let her watch her naked mini go through her paces. She wouldn’t tell Margaret how much it cost, but she and Michael could have spent the week at Hershie’s Kisses for less.

Joyce made Margaret exercise another thirty minutes, while she slowly raised the air pressure back to normal. By the time they stopped, Margaret was exhausted. Joyce carried her to the bathroom and set her in a sink full of warm water and bath oil. She alternately agitated the water and gave Margaret a massage.

She picked Margaret up, with soapy slippery hands, and squeezed her gently, causing her to slide forward like a bar of soap. She would slide forward, only to be caught in the other hand, where it would repeat. Joyce thought it felt a little like jacking Richard off, only nicer. Margaret thought it felt... indescribable!

After the bath, Joyce dried Margaret and dressed her back the way they found her.

"Why do I need to be bound again?" asked Margaret.

"You went to all the trouble to be tied up, when we found you. And it was so cute! I know Richard liked it, so I want to put you back that way before he rejoins us."

"Where is Richard, anyway?"

"Watching a football game he put on his ipod earlier. He doesn't think exercising is what he calls 'good naked', so I promised to get you back in costume and in character by the time his game is over."

"In character?"

"Slave girl. Oh, and be sure to call us Mistress and Master."

"Master Dorfus, me thinks thou art getting a bit cheeky in thy brashness. Mayhap, one of your stature should choose his words more carefully, when addressing an Amazon such as I."

Stephanie stood, balanced on the round of Michael's shoulder, with her hands on her hips, and looked him straight in the eye.

Michael had to close his other eye to focus on her. With her standing on his shoulder, they were just about eye to eye. Only through the magic of role-play could he envision her as a six-foot-ten amazon (her 'mini' form, when she wore the ring).

"Didst thou just offend my height? Dost thou not know that is a grievous insult to a hobbit? I demand apology, lest I must resort to fisticuffs."

"Thou wouldst strike a lady? Ah, I see now that chivalry is indeed dead. Very well. To keep peace in the party, I shall apologize for pointing out thy abundance of shortness."

"Apology accepted," he said and kissed at her sarcastically.

She kissed the air back in return.

They had been playing for over three hours--very little of it in the pseudo-Shakespearian that Michael and Stephanie seemed to switch to whenever they started their playful banter. The hokey accent seemed to make the innuendo and love talk safer. By unspoken agreement, the giantess Galefreya and the hobbit Dorfus had a mixed-up romance budding.

The other gamers, while enjoying the scenario, thought that the Michael and Stephanie show was the real main event, and well worth the price of admission. Other than Dexter, they didn't know what else was planned.

Toby dropped by at about nine o'clock, with his mini, Jenny, in tow. They all took a break from the game for a round of greetings. The other gamers were surprised by this visit. Toby hadn't been to a game in over a year. Jenny hadn't come with him in even longer.

"Stephie!" Jenny happily yelled. She ran up to give her a hug as soon as Toby unhooked her leash. "Look at you! You're so cute!"

She broke the hug and stood back to look the tiny girl over. Stephanie's blond hair was worn somewhat wild and frizzy. She wore very pale body makeup, giving her a Swedish or Nordic look. Her blue eyes matched the tiny sapphires she wore in her ears. Jenny wondered if big people would even notice the gems, they were so small. Their elegance contrasted with the simple shift she wore, with its ragged edges and large tear across the chest. The tear was meant to look like a lightning bolt. Under it, she had a matching bolt painted on her skin in metallic gold body paint. When the two bolts lined up, a viewer would get the effect of little flash of lightning. It tended to startle people. All the guys had been startled by it at least once.

"Dang, girl. It ought to be a crime to be able to pull that look off." She looked down to Stephanie then up to Toby. She looked back and forth between them a couple of times, then she held her hand out horizontally – level with the top of Stephanie's head – and brought it over to her thigh. She did the same with herself and Toby, and saw that she came to about the same place on Toby as Stephanie did on her.

"You're like a mini's mini," said Jenny.

"Yeah... uh, yes, Miss Jenny," said Stephanie, "I thought of that too. You're about two point eight times taller than me, and Toby's two point eight times taller than you."

The smallest woman Jenny ever met had been ten inches, but she knew that some minis were even smaller, and the new Seven Down pill would make that pretty common. It gave her a rush to be the giantess, for a change.

"Are you doing all right?" Jenny asked seriously. "The master treating you right?" She eyed Michael suspiciously.

"I'm fine Miss Jenny, really. But Michael's not my master. He just brought me to the game. My brother Jackson is my master, and he treats me great."

Jenny was relieved to hear that; she knew how hard it could be, especially for the invols. She noticed Stephanie's lack of collar. That was hardly safe, especially if her master was going to loan her to friends. She resolved to take her aside later and warn her about that.

"Good. And you don't have to be so formal. I think the last time anyone called me Miss Jenny was when I used to babysit."

"Well," said Stephanie, with the beginnings of a blush, "you were formal with me, the last time I saw you, and I wanted to... do right."

"When was the last time I saw you anyway? Oh, the sleep over!" she said with a giggle. Stephanie's blush deepened. "You worried that I'm going to want some payback?"

"N-no. Not worried exactly. But... you'd be entitled."

Jenny looked around at the six guys in the room. None could even feign indifference. Some were literally on the edges of their seats.

"With all these guys around?” she asked Stephanie. “You think you can handle that?"

"I'm a mini. I can take it." She looked Jenny in the eyes, defiantly.

"Truth or dare?" asked Jenny.

"….Truth. I cannot remember the last time I had a nicer dinner or a more pleasant evening," said Richard.

"To our lovely and charming hostess, to whom we are eternally grateful," said Joyce.

She clinked her glass to Richard's – and then the tiny glass she held in her left hand to both. She had to do that for Margaret, who was kneeling on the table, with her hands still tied behind her back. Joyce held the thimble-sized glass to Margaret’s lips, for her to take a sip, before taking one herself.

"Thank you, Mistress," she said. "Eternally grateful? I'm a little worried what I'm expected to do to earn that!"

"Silly," said Joyce. She stroked Margaret’s bald head with her index finger, ran her fingernail down her back, tickling her through the thick shirt she wore and briefly stroked her bottom. "That's for what you've already done. You gave us our happy daughter back."

Margaret was surprised. "What? Stephanie is happy. I mean, she was already happy. Wasn't she?"

"No," said Richard. "She wasn't. She was... resigned and... adjusting. But she wasn't happy. Not last week. And her relationship with her mother and me was very strained. She and Jackson remained close, but even there.... We were seriously considering placing her in a commune or back in Micro City, or even with another family. In fact, if you hadn't run into the kids at the park last Saturday, we might have given you a call. Joyce and I were struggling with that."

"But something wonderful happened last Saturday," said Joyce. "She met an old friend."

Margaret thought back to the previous Saturday. Stephanie had been happy to see Michael, but then she quickly withdrew, when he expressed a very reasonable concern about the way Jackson treated her. Once she had gotten over that though, she really opened up to them, treating them almost like surrogate therapists.

"Shouldn't you be thanking Michael?" asked Margaret.

"Oh, we will. But I didn't mean Michael. I meant you. Let me tell you. Last Saturday, I insisted that Jackson take Stephanie to the park. I thought it might cheer her up to let her socialize with some other minis, minis who weren't in therapy and didn't hate their lives. But I had no idea how right I was! She came home more excited than I've seen her since before she got minned.”

"Mom!” Stephanie called out from the front hallway. “You go talk to Dad, Jackson. I want to tell Mom.

“Mom, guess who we met at the park!"

"Uh, Misty…? Michael…? Toby and Jenny?"

"Pretty good. You were right the second time. But you'll never guess who he was there with."

"Dexter…? Svetlana?" She almost guessed Misty again, but Stephanie would have told her if she had guessed right first and second. "I give up."

"His mom!" Stephanie said, with a mixture of excitement and shock.

Joyce was confused for a moment. Why would it be shocking for Michael to be at Morris Park with his.... "No! She didn't! How small?"

Stephanie held her hand up just a little above her own head. Joyce actually squealed, then clasped her hand to her mouth and struggled to control herself. It just wouldn't do, to have a spontaneous orgasm in front of her daughter.

"Richard!" she called. "Margaret’s a mini! A micro!"

"I just heard!" he called back. "I'll assemble a snatch team, and we'll have her before sunrise."

Joyce turned her attention back to Stephanie. "Tell me all about it."

"OK. So, we're at Mini Park, and it's about like I expected – a giant pet show, people walking their dogs on one side of the creek and their minis on the other, and some of the dogs are looking hungrily at the minis, and the minis are all looking longingly at the dogs."

Joyce looked confused, so Stephanie explained. "Two of the things I miss the most are Mittens and Schnelly. They really should come up with a way to min dogs and cats.

“Anyway, after that, we went over to the water park. I'm in line for the Big Gulp when I hear someone say 'Hi' to Jackson. It's Michael Kincaide, and he's got Margaret, smaller than life!

“He was carrying her in one of those papoose cases that a lot of newbies use, and she was wearing this ugly bathing suit that looked like she must have rolled Barbie in a dark alley. And let me tell you, she did Barbie a favor. Anyway, we got to talking and we just hung out together the whole day. It was great!"

"So, Margaret finally did it."

"Yeah. She says it's just for the week, though – a 'little' vacation. Isn't that weird? My nightmare is someone else's vacation."

"One man's cheese," said Joyce. "And no. It's not so weird."

Joyce paused a moment, then asked, "is it really a nightmare, darling?"

Stephanie frowned a moment, but then she smiled and said, "Not today."

She jumped up to Joyce's shoulder and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"That was the first time she's ever done that. She used to kiss me almost every day. And she still kisses me if I lean in for one. But jumping up on my shoulder to steal a kiss? Last week, she wouldn't do that on a...."

"Dare," said Stephanie.

"Oh, aren't you the brave one?" said Jenny. "I kind of expected truth the first round, like last time. Well, I was going to ask what that gold is, but I guess I'll just have to see for myself. I dare you to take off that chemise."

“That's not much of a dare," said Stephanie, tossing off her dress. "I'm a mini. I'm naked more often than not."

Stephanie looked even younger than her seventeen years. She was smooth as a baby, with pale skin that looked like it had never seen the sun—or a blemish. Blemishes tended to shrink more than normal skin, but it was partly due to expert application of high-quality makeup.

Also, Stephanie had been a vegetarian since she was six years old — after visiting a petting farm — and an all-vegetable diet tended to cause girls to develop more slowly. She had not been long in puberty before she got minned. The minning had not only halted that development, but slightly reversed it, though most of those effects were internal. Other than some nicely-developed breasts, Stephanie was the picture of an innocent sprite.

She did a little pirouette and bowed.

"What's that supposed to be?" asked Jenny, pointing to the gold design painted on Stephanie's chest.

"Painted circuitry," said Stephanie. "It's a tracking device that's a lot harder to remove than a collar."

Jenny looked surprised, the scowled. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," said Stephanie, grinning.

"What's that supposed to be?"

"A lightning bolt. My character's a storm giant."

Jenny snorted, then that sunk in. In a way, it was even more unbelievable than her first story. Playing with bigs was one thing – that was pretty much what minis were for – but a giant? The boys’ faces told her it was true. She looked up at Toby. "Why don't we ever do anything like that?"

Toby shrugged. "You never asked."

She looked back at Stephanie. "Sorry. I took two turns. I'll take truth."

Stephanie shook her head. "Not ‘til we're even. You didn't get any turns before."

Again, Jenny was surprised. She thought back to the party two years ago. It had obviously made more of an impression on Stephanie than it had on her.

"Master," she asked Toby, "may I sit?"

"Oh, sure. Sorry. Make yourself at home."

That meant she was pretty much free to do whatever she wanted, even leave the room, without asking Toby first. They were casual at home, usually.

"You have a lovely home," said Joyce. She looked down at Margaret in her cage, as she said this. Margaret sat on her couch with her hands now free. They had just briefly toured the house, but now Joyce was being intentionally ambiguous whether she meant the whole house, or just the cage. Margaret didn't rise to the bait. "Thank you, Joyce."

Richard brought the last of their luggage into the room. It was just a couple of bags and something tall that was covered by a white cloth. "That's the last of it. Slave driver." "Sorry, dear. I'll make it up to you." They kissed and embraced. Then Richard unhooked her pearls and unzipped the back of her dress. "Bath or shower?" he asked. "Oh, bath. Definitely." Richard went to run it, while Joyce began putting away her jewelry and to finish undressing. Like most women, she dressed and undressed more slowly than her husband.

Margaret found the scene hauntingly familiar, she remembered having almost the exact same conversation and actions with James, not too many years ago. Baby Michael had been in his crib, just a few feet from where she sat now. She felt infantilized. That thought made her pout, and the irony of that wasn't lost on her either. She started to say something, but Joyce just said, "Shhh, let mommy get ready for her bath." Margaret fumed, and grew strangely aroused.

Naked, Joyce reached into Margaret’s cage. She lifted the shirt off Margaret, unnecessarily using two hands, then she lifted Margaret up to her bosom. She had beautiful DD cup breasts. Margaret was sure she must have had work done; nature was never that kind to fifty-year-old women, but she couldn't tell for sure. Someone did very good work, whether it was God or some doctor. She wasn't sure if she was expected to suckle, so for now she contented herself to be cradled while Joyce walked to the bath.

"Do my boobs intimidate you?"

Stephanie gave Jenny a side-long look. "My mom's got big tits. And I hate to disappoint you, but Misty's are way bigger, even at scale."

"And how close up have you seen your mom's tits—since puberty—or since you were ten, if you haven't hit that yet."

"Don't be gross, Jenny," said Stephanie, ignoring the dig. "I've stood on the dresser, while she changes – about as close as I am to you now."

"Yeah well, I think it's got to be a little more intimidating, knowing that you’re going to get closer. And what about Misty's?"

Stephanie's face was the picture of innocence. "Misty's... I've actually been inside Misty's. She just lifts them up like this... pops out the silicone, and I crawl right in. It's very cozy."

There was a loud bump, as Danny barely caught himself from falling. He had been sitting a bit too far forward in his chair.

Jenny got the game. If she asked a question without getting a 'truth', Stephanie would make up an outrageous lie. She had scored a small point, getting Stephanie to say even an innocuous truth about her mother. She settled back into the little chair she had made herself by, stuffing a pillow partially under the couch. The pillow was her seat, and the front of the couch made the back of her chair. She motioned Stephanie to come closer. "Truth or dare."

"Truth.... Wait!" said Stephanie. "If you're about to ask about Misty, I won't answer. It's one thing to pry my secrets, and another to get my friends'. And no, that doesn't confirm she has any secrets; it's just a general rule."

Jenny shook her head. "Not the way it works. You don't have to answer – but there's a penalty."

She straightened her legs and crooked her finger. The penalty was simple: five spanks. Stephanie had been the only one to pay that penalty two years ago, for refusing to allow Jenny to.... It wasn't that much of a penalty, anyway, and Stephanie was proud that, both then and now, she took the spanking to protect someone else. She wondered if she was going to get the same dare again tonight—with their positions reversed. And if she did, would she do it—or take the spanking again? This time she wouldn't be protecting someone else. She'd just be wimping out.

Jenny was not rough with the spanking. She hadn't planned to be anyway, but as she looked at their audience, she was glad that she had decided to be gentle.

"You know," she said, "I was going to go easy on you because we're in a room full of guys. But now, I'm looking around, and I see a room full of mother hens. They all look ready to pounce if I get out of line. Even Toby! You know, you're my guardian, not hers! How do you do it, Steph? Why are all the guys so protective of you? Am I not small enough?"

"Well," said Stephanie, standing and resisting the urge to rub her bottom, "we've all been friends a long time. But you don't have to worry about them. I... I'll do anything you had to do. They won't interfere."

Jenny arched an eyebrow. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to sit in my lap, like a baby."

"It's been a long time since I had a little girl in the bath with me." said Joyce. She held Margaret in her lap, as she washed her.

"I know," said Richard, sitting next to her in the large tub. "And you look as beautiful today as you did then." He alternated between kissing Joyce passionately and kissing Margaret more playfully. Of course, it would have been physically impossible to give Margaret the same kind of passionate kisses he gave Joyce. But aside from that, he and Joyce were acting like a loving couple - with a baby in the bath with them. At first, Margaret had been off put by the infantilization. But as she got into it, she liked it more and more. She felt secure, protected, loved.

"We'd better get her out of here, before she and I both turn into prunes," said Joyce.

Richard unstopped the drain, then got out of the tub and began to dry off. Joyce ran fresh warm water into her hand and used that to rinse off Margaret. Then she handed her to Richard.

He laid her on a folded towel on the counter and brought the sides up around her to pat her dry. "Thank you," he said. "This has brought back memories – happy times of new fatherhood. But I'm ready to move on to more grown-up activities. You?"

"Mmmm Hmmm," Margaret moaned, lounging on her terry cloth bed.

Richard kissed and nuzzled her and tentatively touched her body with the tip of his giant tongue. She arched her back to bring her breasts up to meet him, then leaned forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

That was too much work in her present state, so she lay back and just made cooing noises and moved enough to let him know that she liked what he was doing. Richard drew designs in saliva on her torso and slowly worked his way downward until he got to a spot that he didn't want to leave. Soon he brought her to her first orgasm of the evening. It was a blessed relief to Margaret, having spent most of the evening, and much of the day, on the cusp, in anticipation.

Recovering, Margaret looked up and saw Joyce and Richard towering over her, smiling. She was struck by her own sense of deja vu. "I know what you mean,” she said. “For a moment, it was like I was looking at me and James, standing over Michael. Don't get me wrong; the closest we ever came to that was giving him zubers!"

She looked at Joyce and added, "and that was the closest I ever came to having breasts like yours--back when I was...."

"Breast feeding? What... who?" Stephanie asked, then gave a sheepish look. "I guess that was a dumb question."

"Why?" asked Danny, breaking the unspoken vow of silence all the guys had been keeping. He looked back and forth between Jenny and her master.

"For one thing, it's very healthy—for both of us," Jenny answered. "The longer a woman breast feeds, the lower her chances of breast cancer. Everyone knows that. And I look good—two cup sizes up, relatively speaking. And even though they look big on me, they only weigh a few ounces. I'll never sag. And I look like I'm stretched more than I really am, too. I bounce right back into shape when I dry up.

And I'll never have children, so this helps me feel maternal. So why wouldn't I?"

"Because it's... weird!" said Danny.

"Then you should write a letter to Little Miss Sunshine and suggest that minis stop doing something that makes them prettier, happier and healthier, and helps them bond with their guardians, because you think it's weird. Better hurry, it's becoming more popular all the time. While you're at it, you might want to lobby to get all those laws and rulings that let mothers nurse in public places overturned."

She smiled to let him know that she wasn't really angry, just a little put out.

"Oh, and did I mention that it's very good for the masters too? There are whole books on the benefits of breast milk. Toby hasn't had a sniffle in a year. You've heard the expression: like mother's milk to him? Well, it really is." She looked down at Stephanie, cradled in her lap. "Truth or dare?"

Stephanie gulped. "Dare?" she said, uncertainly.

"Danny, you might want to leave the room," said Jenny.

He didn't.

The nipple barely fit in her mouth, but she gave it her best effort. Margaret first positioned herself so that she could use her legs and feet to massage Joyce's left breast, while she hugged and sucked on the right. But then she sat up, so that she could wrap both her arms and legs around the one she was sucking. She took a quick break and leaned back, twisting herself, so she could take the other nipple in her mouth. She did this for many minutes, alternating from one breast to the other.

While Margaret focused on Joyce’s tits, Richard caressed and kissed her lips – alternating from one set of lips to the other. Finally, he intensified his efforts on her clitoris, until he was rewarded with a massive shudder and moan.

Richard laid back on the bed. After taking a moment to recover, Joyce wrapped her thumb and finger around Margaret’s waist and lifted her up. There was a quiet 'pop' as she was pulled away from the nipple. Joyce set her down on Richard's penis to let her give him similar treatment. She watched the tiny woman for a while, then got up. She moved behind Margaret and started massaging her with lotion. Margaret loved the sensation of being massaged while massaging Richard. Soon she also became very slippery, which added to both their pleasure.

"Margaret, look at me," said Richard. That reminded her of Dave Conner, but only a little. There was no glare in her eyes this time, no chance that Richard would say, never mind, just do your work. They basked in the beauty of each other's faces and each other's pleasure. Richard knew that he got the better deal. For one thing, he was sure that she was prettier to him than he was to her. For another, he could also see the beautiful face of his wife, looking gigantic behind the tiny elf. Joyce continued to massage Margaret and move her around--using Margaret to massage Richard. Occasionally, she would bend close and kiss or lick Margaret’s head or back or both. A few times she licked low enough to touch Richard with the tip of her tongue, behind and below Margaret.

"Look only at me, Margaret. Don't look at Joyce until I say so--even if you need to talk to her, understand?" Margaret nodded. "Think you can handle something more... intense? Indulge your submissive side?" Margaret nodded again. Wasn't she already? Joyce got off the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret could see her uncover whatever it was they had brought. She tried to focus on Richard, concentrate on his head—heads. Fortunately, they were both right in front of her. Look down, lick; look up, smile.

"Do you like being a mini?"

Stephanie had to think about that. "A week ago, I called it my living nightmare. But that wasn't really true. I was already having some fun, with the cheer squad and all. And it's sweet the way Jackson takes care of me. I'm never lonely; he won't let me be. And this week I've had a lot of fun. I'd still be restored if I could, but there's a lot to be said for it. Good enough?"

Jenny nodded. "Truth or dare?" "Dare." "I dare you to... do your sexiest cheer routine for us."

Stephanie felt very self-conscious about that one. Usually she'd at least wear body paint, and her audience would be more than a dozen yards away. No one could tell body paint from a leotard on her, from more than a few feet away. But it was a fair dare.

"You'll have to stand up. I need an assistant for parts of it."

She started with some standard cheers, leaps, and splits. Her audience especially liked the jumping jacks and airplane jumps. Michael and Dexter looked embarrassed, turned on, but embarrassed; but she smiled at them, and they smiled back. She worried that Michael might be feeling a bit jealous. She knew she should discourage that; she wasn't his – girlfriend or mini. But she didn't have the heart to hurt his feelings in front of his friends, so instead she focused on him and pretended that she was doing the cheers just for him.

“Pick that pocket! Trick that troll! Hide in shadows! Make that roll!” The guys all laughed at her impromptu cheer.

She had Jenny stand with her arms outstretched. She leaped into her right hand and did somersaults up her arm, across her back and down to her left hand. She had misgivings doing this with such a small partner but, like her, Jenny was stronger than she looked. The handstand behind Jenny's head had a very different look than usual. A lot more of her was visible than just her legs, so it didn't look like antennae coming from the back of Jenny's head; it looked like what it was, the lower half of a naked girl. But she doubted anyone would complain. From there, she did a backwards half flip, landing just in front of Jenny. Bringing one leg back, she knelt on one knee and stretched out her arms in a final 'ta da'. Her arms bumped into Jenny's legs, which were to either side of her, reminding her that this was a smaller partner than she was used to.

"Don't move but look up." She froze with her hands clasped above her head. She was doing a houri dance – or, as she thought of it, the 'I Dream Of Jeanie' dance. Nervously, she looked up... and up. Joyce towered over her like a skyscraper. Margaret noticed the symmetry of their positions. She was kneeling with her legs on either side of Richard, and so was Joyce—directly above her. She could only see her face because she was leaning over to see Margaret.

"Margaret, darling," said Joyce, soothingly, "you know you don't have to do anything you don't want." Margaret nodded.

"OK, I need you to help me with some final calibrations. Here, breathe through this tube, in through the tube, out around it or through your nose." She put the end of a plastic tube into Margaret’s mouth. She noted approvingly that Margaret still had not moved from the position she had frozen in when Richard said, "Don't move."

The end of the tube was shaped like a mouth guard, so Margaret could easily hold it. Joyce leaned over and made some adjustments on the monitoring device beside her. Soon an oscilloscope was undulating, lights were blinking, and it made a soft beeping noise, all in time with Margaret’s breath.

"Open." Joyce removed the tube from Margaret’s mouth and counted to five. Alarms began to sound. She replaced the tube and it quieted down, returning to its steady beep beep. "Blow. Hard," she said, and again the alarm sounded.

"Good. Remember, five seconds without a breath, and the alarm will sound. Blow hard, and the alarm will sound."

Margaret was nervous and excited. Joyce was as intimidating as ever or even more so. Margaret should have known she was up to something, massaging her with oil. Joyce could be very generous and giving, but it seemed she almost always had ulterior motives for her good deeds, preferring to "do well, while doing good."

Joyce's face retreated from view. It was the moment of....

"Truth or.... Just choose truth, OK? There's something I want to ask you."

This should be the last round, and Stephanie had been dreading it. She was relieved, but... "You sure? I told you, I'll do everything you had to do at the party."

"You've done everything but one. And a. i. r. you took a penalty, rather than be the one that made me do that. I'd be a rat to make you do it now. And yeah, I had to do everything you girls said, but I didn't have to become a mini.

"Oh, and b. t. w., I had fun at the party." Jenny smiled.

Stephanie was relieved. She had said that it would be easier to do humiliating things in front of guys she trusted than girls she didn't, but.... She looked up at Michael, gave a sigh of relief and said, "Truth."

"Are you in love with Michael?"

"What? How? Why...?"

"Well, Toby and Mike have been friends a long time. Not super close, but friends. And everyone knows Mike’s crazy about you."

"And crazy is the right word there—having a crush on the brilliant, beautiful, rich girl, who's over a year older than him. Girl, you were so far out of his league—and imho, still are—he has to be either crazy or stupid. And I know he's not stupid.

"But then I see the way you've been looking at him all night, and I think maybe he's not so crazy either. So... inquiring minds want to know."

Stephanie was taken off guard. She tried to think what to say and how to say it, but she was also distracted by what Jenny had said. She didn't think of herself as better than other people and certainly not out of Michael's league. She was a little offended. She didn't know anyone who was out of Michael's league. "I, well, I do love him...."

"Uh uh, I said 'in' love. I love lots of people. I love my mom and dad, even if they do think I was nuts to become a mini. And I love Toby, but I'm not 'in' love with him. Thank goodness. That would be kind of awkward, you know?"

"Exactly, I mean, maybe someday I could be his mini, but I can't ever be his lover. I can't cook his meals or bear his children or... be his wife."

"And he's a really great 'just a friend', isn't he?" said Jenny, sarcastically.

Stephanie glared.

"Don't you think he deserves an honest answer?” Jenny asked. “Or do you just want to take the penalty?"

"Fine." Said Stephanie, angrily. "'In' love. Yes. I'm in love with him. But I don't see how that changes anything." She looked at Michael as she said that.

Michael stood up, with a grim and determined expression on his face, He walked slowly over to Stephanie and grabbed her around the waist. He lifted the tiny girl up to his face.

Stephanie struggled. Just because she was in love with him didn't mean she wanted him to manhandle her, and she wasn't sure if she wanted a kiss right now.

"I'm claiming this mini," said Michael, "this unattended, untagged and uncollared mini, under the Mini Guardian Act."

He smiled. “You are mine, tiny girl.”

"Michael! Stop fooling around. You can't do that. I'm already in your charge! Now put me down and apologize, or I'm telling Jackson."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" said Joyce.

"I didn't pull out. I came inside you."

"Oh well, you weren't the only one."

Margaret blushed. "Wait a minute. Are you saying you could be pregnant?"

"It's highly unlikely. I was never very fertile; you notice we only have the two children. And at my age...."

"You don't use precautions?"

"We're Mormons."

Margaret almost laughed, but she knew that would be rude. Religious rules didn't have to make since.

"Still, it's exciting to think that I might have been in on it, from the beginning, so to speak."

"Well," said Richard. "It is even possible that you could be pregnant."


"That's right," said Michael. "Jackson loaned you to me, Monday night. And he loaned you to Misty, Wednesday night. But today he just ran off and said, 'you guys have fun.' That's very irresponsible. Guardians have to be responsible, or what's the point of having them? And look at you. What are you wearing? Earrings, a little splash of gold on your chest and a smile—well, you had a smile. No collar or other ID. It's like you're begging to be claimed."

"You... you took my collar off!"

"Uh, actually, I did," said Dexter. "Michael just mentioned that it didn't go with your persona."

Stephanie glared. "Michael, you're being ridiculous. You know you can't make it stick. And if you could, would you really betray Jackson that way? He looks up to you. He trusted you!"

"Yeah. I guess I should call him and smooth things out."

"What? I'm a mini! I'm not even ovulating! How could I get pregnant?"

"Well," said Richard, "if an egg traveled into the lower areas—and Joyce is prone to that, that's why she's not very fertile—then it could get sucked into you, say during a powerful orgasm. You didn't have one of those did you?"

Richard grinned. "Grad student at Cal Tech made a computer model of the possibility. Under the best conditions, the odds are about one in twenty million. I don't think you need to rush to the clinic."

Margaret was stunned. Then she sighed. "I guess that's for the best. Full-size egg, full-size sperm. I'd look like I swallowed an inflatable raft."

"It doesn't work that way," said Joyce. "The same effect that shrinks the microbes in your body, and any internal parasites you pick up after you’re minned, would cause the fetus to develop in miniature."

"So, the baby would be born a mini?"

"Technically a midget," said Richard. "Legally, one can't be born a mini."

"Want to try again. Double your odds, to one in ten million? What do you think?"

"Pretty good. Everyone loved her outfit. That lightning effect worked great. Look, the reason I called, I just claimed Stephanie as my mini. I know I should have asked you first but.... Well, sometimes it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. … Huh? I'm not sure. She's acting real mad at me, but I think she's mostly just worried about you – ya know? … Yeah, same here. You want to talk in private, or can I put you on speaker? The other guys are right here. … Okay."

"Jackson?" said Stephanie.

"Sorry, Steph. Sounds like I got careless."

"The whole thing is just stupid. He can't make it stick."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I'll just demand to be put up for adoption. I don't think he's jerk enough to hit us up for the adoption fee." She glared at Michael.

"Well, if I have to drive you out to your grandmother's, I should get a dollar for gas money."

"See, Steph," said Jackson. "All you have to do is say you don't want to be his mini, in front of witnesses."

"That's right," said Stephanie, crossing her arms in satisfaction.

"But Stephanie?"

"Yes, Jackson?"

"Would that be true?"

Stephanie didn’t say anything.

"I've been a pretty good guardian, haven't I?"

Stephanie nodded without thinking that he couldn't see it.

"I mean it's almost been like I was your giant, more than you were my mini. Right?"

"Yes," she said.

"Then you gotta be honest. You owe me that." He paused a moment, then he said, "I just want you happy."

Stephanie walked up to the phone and pushed the speaker-off button.

"I love you, baby brother," she whispered.

"Love you too, big sister. Hey, Michael!"

"Wait. He can't hear you." She motioned for Michael to take the phone.

"You better take care of my sister."

"I will, Jackson. You know that,” said Michael. “See you tomorrow, okay?"

"Now comes the hard part," Michael said, turning off the phone.

"Having an uppity mini?"

"Telling your mom and dad."


"Hi, Mom. I've got Michael on speaker. Can you put Dad and Mrs. Kincaide on?"

"Your father's right here, but Margaret is, uh, lying down. Yes, I hate to get her out—of bed. She seems very comfy, in kind of a oh, oh, fetal position. What? Oh, I've got something in my... the oven. I'm worried about overheating. What's the trouble? . . . Oh, he did! Pretty daring, considering the position his mother's in. No. I wouldn't really hold her—too long. And what did Jackson say? … Oh. Well, we could probably fight it, but you know we won't. You'll be back by twelve, right. That beeping? Uh, uh, that's my casserole. I've got to come, uh go, get Margaret. I need her. One at the very latest! By! Yie, Yie...."

"Cooking?" said Stephanie. "I tell ya. Adulthood is wasted on the old." She stepped on the phone's off button. "What now, O Master?"

"Now, Milady? We forge on. To the caves of the hill giants! Adventure awaits!"

"That was... wonderful," said Joyce, sprawling on her back beside Richard, Margaret sprawled across her chest. She used two fingers to slide Margaret up closer to her mouth

"Oh, and that was our children on the phone. It seems they've made an end run around guardian supervision."

It took Margaret a moment to register what Joyce was saying. Giant lips and tongue were buffeting her and caressing her, and Joyce's words were broken by kisses, licks and nibbles. "What do you mean? They made love?"

Margaret couldn't think what they might have done that Stephanie would feel the need to call and confess.

"Worse. Michael claimed her as his own mini."

"What!? That's, that's.... I'm sure I should be angry or apologizing or something. But all I can think is, that’s wonderful!" The idea of Stephanie coming to live with her and Michael sounded.... "Oh! Joyce, Richard, I don't know what to say."

"We are going to have some logistics to work out," said Richard.

"Let's worry about it in the morning," said Joyce.

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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by Tiny_Significance » Thu Jun 09, 2022 4:28 am

Not gonna lie, I was kinda hoping that Michael and Margaret would go the way of Frankie and Tinkerbell lol

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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by Xinunar » Fri Jun 10, 2022 1:21 am

Tiny_Significance wrote:
Thu Jun 09, 2022 4:28 am
Not gonna lie, I was kinda hoping that Michael and Margaret would go the way of Frankie and Tinkerbell lol
Me too, sometimes.

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Mini Vacation Part 43 - All Things Must Pass

Post by Xinunar » Fri Jun 10, 2022 1:21 am

Margaret woke feeling very rested and very comfortable. She was nestled between the giant couple, Joyce and Richard. They were both sleeping on their sides, facing each other and her. She was chest level to them, so she turned on her side and began to suckle on Richard’s nipple. Even a man’s nipple was gigantic to her, but it fit in her mouth much more easily than Joyce’s. It reminded her of sucking on the bulbous head of James’s large cock. She drifted back into a semi-sleep state as she nursed.

Sometime later, she sensed Joyce begin to wake and soon felt giant fingers stroke her bald head and rub down her back – all the way down to the bottom of her feet. They lingered at erogenous zones that were easily accessible: her sides (that tickled), the small of her back, her bottom, the back of her knees, the soles of her feet. She alternately felt the soft ridges of giant fingertips and the hard dull edge of a giant fingernail. She intensified her efforts to suck and knead the breast in front of her.

After a few minutes of this, she felt fingers curl beneath her. Joyce lifted her, as she rolled onto her back, and soon Margaret was lying on Joyce's chest. She moved her head up to a nipple and held onto Joyce’s breast like it was a giant pillow. She felt giant lips press against the top of her head. She craned her neck and returned the kiss, then set about exploring her friend's torso, from the small of her neck to the folds of her vagina, all the while feeling the light strokes of giant fingers on her own body. When Joyce finally got up to get her shower, she left Margaret on Richard. He too was in that early morning fugue, not asleep but not fully awake. Margaret snuggled with his morning wood until Joyce had her bath ready in the sink.

"Hey, pretty bird." Misty reached her hand behind Stephanie, as if to grasp her, with the edge of her palm level with Stephanie's waist.

"Misty, I am not a bird! Why do you have to tease me that way?" She sat on the edge of Misty's hand and rested her feet against her palm. Misty lifted her up and Stephanie gave her a quick peck on the cheek before shifting over to sit on Misty's shoulder.

"Sorry, I saw you in that dress, and the first thing I thought of was a bluebird. Sunflower seed?"

"Only if you're having some," Stephanie said crossly, suppressing a grin. She cracked the seed open with her teeth and began to gnaw on the kernel.

"You're dressing more conservatively," Misty observed. Stephanie rolled her eyes in Michael's directions. "Oh. New master is a bit possessive, is he?"

"A bit," she conceded. "But I don't mind. Fact is, I don't want him showing his goods to every bimbo in school either – present company excepted."

"Yeah... hey!" Misty laughed. "Isn't that strange though? I mean, before you got shrunk, I would share just about anything with you--except my boyfriend! But here we are talking about sharing Michael like it's no big deal. What's up with that?"

"Cultural expectations. You're not expected to get jealous of a mini."

"Are you saying I only get jealous because I'm expected to?" asked Misty. "I don't believe that. If a guy I like even looks at another girl, I get jealous! Most of my friends don't let it bother them. Like you, you always said looking's no big deal. But I get really, really, steam under the collar, jealous. That can't just be culture."

"Well, yes and no. Look, it’s kind of like with family. I'm sure you get jealous of your brother sometimes. I know I do! But unless your parents are giving him more attention than you, you're not going to get upset about it. The difference between jealousy that makes you mad and jealousy that doesn't is mostly cultural. The fact that I'm small and non-threatening, kind of like a baby and kind of like a pet, helps too."

"That sounds more like instinct than culture. I mean, like, the stallion at the ranch gets jealous of any other males that get close to his harem, but he doesn't mind the colts."

Stephanie was impressed at Misty's reasoning. "Yeah, that's a good point. The books I borrowed from Dr. Wiseman said it's more culture than instinct, but it's a little of both. I guess whether it's more instinct or culture depends on how much you see me as your friend, or like a baby or a pet."

"Oh. Then it's definitely instinct." Misty grinned, and Stephanie acted offended and pouted.

Joyce came out of Margaret's bedroom, upstairs, holding Margaret in one hand. The Kincaide's den had a cathedral ceiling, and the walkway outside Margaret's bedroom overlooked it. Joyce was very focused on Margaret and did not even look down at the girls. "I can't believe you said that!" she scolded Margaret in an angry whisper. She shut the door behind her, almost slamming it.

"But Joyce, I was just...."

"Are you, or are you not going to take the antidote today?"

"I am, but...."

"Then you won't be 'squeezing' my husband tomorrow! 'I'll squeeze you even tighter tomorrow?' What kind of crack is that? 'She'll still be a lot bigger than me?' How do you think that makes me feel? I've had two children! I didn't just have one – by cesarean! I have a well-endowed husband, and I'm fourteen years older than you!"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant I'm a tiny woman! I'll still be almost like a mini to you – to both of you!"

"And you know he likes small women! He likes tiny, tight little... Oh, just go away!" And with that, she literally tossed Margaret aside, flinging her out towards the den.

She immediately realized what she had done. She gasped and reached out to catch the tiny woman, but Margaret was well out of reach. Margaret plunged head-first towards the floor, some fourteen feet below. The girls both gasped, and Misty tried to move fast enough to catch her, but it was hopeless. Margaret screamed as she fell about seven feet. Then she slowed rapidly and seemingly flew back into Joyce's outstretched hand, screaming the entire way.

As soon as Joyce grabbed her, the screaming stopped, and Margaret began to gasp for air. The gasps continued and it took the girls several seconds to realize that they were not gasps but laughs. Stephanie and Misty could now see the elastic band tied around Margaret's ankle.

"Laugh at me, will you?" said Joyce.

"No. No. Augh!" Margaret yelled, in a mixture of joy and terror, as she went for another ride. "Enough, Joyce. Enough," she said when she returned to Joyce's hand. "I have to catch my breath."

"Mom!" Stephanie yelled. "I can't believe you did that!"

"What? Pay you back, for taking that header off your brother's head?"

"That was, like, a year ago!"

"Your mother never forgets."

"That was... wild!" said Misty. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not as dangerous as parrot riding," said Stephanie, on her shoulder. "Trust me."

"Yeah, but..."

"Mom's an expert bungee jumper – started way before I was born. I'm sure she and Margaret practiced some shorter jumps in the bedroom."

"Yeah, I was sure she was jumping something in there," said Misty.

"Ah Misty," said Richard, startling her, "I'm glad you're here. Come on in the kitchen; we're having a family meeting. Oh, and... good one."

"Uh, yeah."

"Now," said Richard, "I wanted to have a talk with all of you about safety." Everyone groaned, even Joyce. "Ahem, Jackson, I'm not going to give you a hard time about lack of protocol with Michael. We all know he wouldn't have kept her if she didn't want to be kept. But it does underscore the need for safety rules. Stephanie is a very special mini. Things that would not be dangerous, even to a thirder like Jenny, could be deadly to Stephanie. A cat could kill her faster than you can blink. Think about that because it's true.

"Dogs aren't quite as quick, but they're just as deadly. A large dog could swallow her whole, but even a toy chihuahua is like a hyperactive grizzly bear to her. And then there are humans. There are collectors who would pay a lot of money for her; being on Oprah didn't help that any. And then there are common jerks like David Conner.

"Now, most minis have one guardian who is responsible for keeping him or her safe. Stephanie has six. Assuming Margaret is restored this evening, she will be the supervising adult for Michael. But then Jackson will be taking her back to Baltimore to finish the last few weeks of school."

"Michael's loaning her to the guy he stole her from?" asked Misty.

"Ironic, isn't it? And, of course, her mother and I will have charge of her from time to time. Misty, I assume you'll be keeping her, often. By the way, I've got some paperwork for you to sign; we're not having a repeat of Michael's trick."


"Anyway, having so many people to look after her has its pluses and minuses. On the one hand, it gives her greater freedom, not being so reliant on one person. And of course, we're all looking out for her, not just Michael. But the downside is that we might lose track of who's got her! So, here's a simple rule: if you have custody, you wear the bracelet. The only exceptions are bathing and sleeping – at home. If you're at someone else's house, you wear it the whole time. It's waterproof.

“You don't have to always be attached by the leash, if you're in a safe place, but do stay attached in public places. But always keep the bracelet on, as a reminder that you are responsible for Stephanie's safety."

"Dr. Miller," said Misty, "couldn't we get Stephanie something else, besides a collar. I mean, isn't that kind of degrading? Couldn't she get like a bracelet or a waist band."

Richard's expression showed that he appreciated the thought, but he looked over at Stephanie, for her to answer.

"Thanks, Misty. That's sweet of you," said Stephanie, "but it won't work. My bones are very flexible. With a little butter or oil in his hand, a kidnapper could slip a waist band off me as fast as he could grab me. A bracelet would be just as bad, and they're too small for a tracking beacon. I don't mind the collar."

She gave Misty a quick kiss on the cheek. What she said was true, but there was another reason to wear the collar: she still needed to fit in. She'd probably have an easier time back at her old school, where she already had friends, than she had in Baltimore, but there would still be tension. And that would affect Misty and Michael as well as her.

It was different with the D&D gang. The guys were thrilled at having a pretty girl in the group--whatever her size. But that wouldn't go so far with Misty's friends. They were all about status. Stephanie being pretty might even make things worse. If they saw Misty treat her as an equal--or worse, if Misty acted like her follower, the way she used to--then she'd catch hell. No, Stephanie would keep the collar, and her friend. She looked over at Margaret, looking like her mirror image, sitting on her mother's shoulder. She cocked her head to rest it against Misty's. Margaret did likewise.

. . .

"You're really going to do it?" asked Michael.

Joyce looked confused, "Do what?"

"You know," he said, in a hushed voice, "give her the antidote."

"Michael!" Joyce was shocked, but still kept her voice down. "What did you think I'd do? Kidnap her? Feed her MinFix?"

"It's not kidnapping. You've got the legal right to keep her."

"So did David Conner. It's still wrong."

"But... you don't know what it's been like since Dad died. You've only seen happy Margaret, but this is the first time I've seen that since Dad left for Iraq! And since he died.... Dr. Miller, I don't want her to go back to that."

"I don't think she will. If she does, then we can convince her to become a mini again." She sighed, "but I don't think she will. I think she's cured. She's not over her loss. I doubt she ever will be; she loved... loves him too much. But she's over her grief.

“And how do you think she'd feel, if we made her stay a mini--the people she trusts most in this world betraying her?"

"I thought... maybe you could give her a placebo. You know, tell her it didn't work. Then later, if she’s really unhappy about it, you could give her the real thing."

Joyce shook her head. "It's still a betrayal, Michael. She trusts us. We have to trust her. Do you want to go with us to the clinic?" Michael shook his head.

. . .

"Margaret, are you sure?"

"What? Joyce, you know this was just a little vacation. I can't stay this way!"

They were in one of the examining rooms at Joyce and Richard's old office. They were still the senior partners, and their names were still on the door, but the junior partners were in the process of buying them out.

"I know. And I know this seems sudden, but Richard and I would really love for you to be a part of our family. Especially, I would." At that, Joyce gave Margaret a soulful, almost tearful look. Margaret had never seen the strong, confident doctor look so vulnerable.

"Joyce, I'm... touched. I really am. And I do want to continue our relationship. My God Joyce, I've idolized you for years, and now you say that you have strong feelings for me--maybe even love me? It makes me dizzy! But I can't stay a mini. Won't you still find me attractive at full size? I'll still be a small woman, you know, and I could even get a little reduction."

"That isn't it, Margaret. Yes, I would still find you attractive. Richard would probably find you even more attractive! At full size, he could make love to you. But that's part of the problem. You know that the rules are different for minis – both legal and religious."

Margaret got it, at least partly. Joyce was a religious woman. But her religion strongly frowned on, perhaps even forbade, a major part of Joyce's nature, her lesbianism. Joyce couldn't have a lesbian lover unless she was a mini. Richard couldn't be a polygamist, unless the second wife was a mini. Margaret thought, if it was her, she would just change religions! But that wasn't really true. Her own religious beliefs had saved her, or at least prevented her, from becoming Michael's pet and sexual plaything. Were Joyce's convictions any more arbitrary or less important than her own?

"I know what you're thinking," said Joyce. "But it's not just a religious stricture, like not eating pork or lobster, it's the way things are! Think about last night, with you snuggled between me and Richard; you helped bring us closer. But if you had been full-sized, you would have come between us--both figuratively and literally."

Margaret thought about that. Joyce had a point. The physical did effect the emotional dynamics of their relationship, the same way it did Stephanie and Michael's--and Misty's. There was no way the two girls would be contemplating sharing the same boy, if they were both full-sized. As it was, Stephanie acted as a bridge, bringing the very different Michael and Misty together. For that matter, even Stephanie and Michael would probably still be 'just friends' if she had not been minned.

. . .

"But Joyce... I just can't. Everyone would look down on me. I would look down on myself! I can handle Mary Henderson's teasing for a week or so, but forever? Knowing that she was right all along and she really was better than me? No, Joyce. No."

"Is that how you think of Stephanie, that you're better than her? Or will be, once you take the antidote?"

"That's different."


Margaret took a deep breath. "I think of her as courageous. But I think of her as handicapped – a girl in a wheelchair. I respect people in wheelchairs; I think Roosevelt was our greatest president. But I couldn't respect someone who had her legs amputated for a fetish!

“I admit that's not a precise analogy. I certainly don't feel revulsion or contempt for Jenny, the way I would for a woman who did that. But... well, really that's not a good example. I guess the thing is that I'm just not strong enough to bear the contempt people would feel for me. I'm not as courageous as Stephanie."

"But..., couldn't you be strong for us? For me? For Stephanie and Michael?" Joyce pleaded. "You know that it would be better if we all stayed together as a family, at least for another year or so.

“Okay, mostly for me. Margaret, I'm not happy."


"I'm not. I love Richard; I really do. But basically, I'm a lesbian! We're Will and Grace, and I'm Will. It's so ironic, it's almost a Greek tragedy. Richard is a wonderful lover. He has stamina, tenderness, technique.... He even gives me strong orgasms, sometimes. But I'm still unfulfilled – have been since college. And even then, I felt guilty – you know, sinning. Last night was the first time I've ever really felt whole!"

Margaret was shocked.

"And I'm taking your little girl away too," she said softly, almost to herself. "It's a wonder you haven't slipped me some MinFix and Just said, 'come on Magpie; it's time to go home.'"

"I thought about it," said Joyce, smiling with her mouth, but not her eyes. "Don't worry. I won't."

Margaret motioned for Joyce to pick her up. She snuggled and nuzzled against Joyce's neck. "So again, you prove you're better than me."

"I don't think so. You wouldn’t do that to me, either" said Joyce. "Margaret, isn't there anything I can do?"

"Well..." said Margaret, "you know, there are always alternatives."

. . .

"Honey, I'm home!"

The kids were all shocked at the sound of Margaret's voice. They knew that something was up from hints Richard dropped, but they didn't know what. They rushed up to see the two women in the atrium. The first thing that caught their eyes was Joyce. She was wearing an outfit that was almost identical to the Star Trek costume Margaret had been wearing earlier--complete with bald head and collar! At the front of the collar was a thin gold leash. It drooped down to brush against the top of her right breast and then back up to where Margaret held the other end. Margaret wore a fashionable business suit. Both women were smiling playfully.

"Ah, Darling! I'm so glad you're home!" Darling? Richard kissed Margaret on the cheek as if she, and not Joyce, was his wife. "And what have we here?"

"Honey," said Margaret, "this is Maxie. Maxie, turn around slowly and let your new master have a look at you." Master?

Joyce did as she was told. Michael, Stephanie, Jackson and Misty all stared, literally open-mouthed in shock. The back of the dress was so short that Michael thought that he might have seen the crease where her leg met her buttock, if he dared to look that closely. For a moment, he wondered why he thought that was so scandalous, considering all the nudity he'd seen lately.

Richard just looked down at her appraisingly, but there was a twinkle in his eye. Joyce chanced a glance at him, before blushing and looking ahead and slightly downward again.

"Well, Honey, what do you think?" asked Margaret.

"Excellent choice. I doubt you could have done much better at the Marché du Minis, in Paris." Joyce gave him an angry look, slightly lifting her head, but still kept her eyes down.

"I think you're right," said Margaret, lightly stroking Joyce's hair. "Maxie, put me down on the table. You need to go get dinner started. Change out of that shift and into an apron. The large one, in the drawer by the sink, should cover your bosoms; and you can strategically place the tie strings in the back. This is a modest household. I'll be there in a minute to chef."

She motioned for Richard to bend down and gave him a more passionate kiss. She loved the feel of his giant tongue, barely poking between his lips to brush against hers. She thrust her own tongue out as far as she could to fiercely lap at his. Then she shooed him off, so she could talk to the kids.

"Jackson," she said, "I especially don't want you to be weirded out dear. Your mother assures me that you can handle your parents having a... slightly unorthodox relationship."

Jackson grinned. "Yeah," he said, "Mom and Dad have always been kinda freaky. And I had Steph as my mini for over a year. I'm not gonna get upset, seeing Mom in her Halloween costume early."

"Ooo, I do miss the Millers' Halloween parties! We'll have to revive that tradition. Michael, you look like you have a question."

"You... uh, I..." Michael tried to think what to ask. "You're staying a mini?"

"For now. I'll be Richard's mini - and Joyce's mistress."

"That's... where are we going to live?"

"Here. Three bedrooms should be enough, for now. Of course, the Millers need to go back to Baltimore, for a while--sell the house and let the kids finish school. That'll just be a few weeks, though. You can stay at Joyce's mother's place, while they’re gone. I'll stay with you if you need me to."

Stephanie excused herself and jumped down from Misty's shoulder. It still surprised Misty that she could jump so far. She went into the kitchen to talk to her mother.

"Mom, are you okay?"

"Yes dear, I'm fine," said Joyce. "Does this bother you? Because, if it does...."

"No.... No, I'm fine. I just... it's unexpected."

"It should work though," said Joyce. "I'm lending Margaret some of my respectability, authority. People wouldn't respect her as my pet – envy her maybe, because I'm...."

"Doctor Wonder Woman?"

"Oh, you've heard that one?" Joyce smiled.

"But as my mistress, my dom… they have to respect that, if they admire me. And trust me, people will still admire me. I know I'll be sacrificing some of that, but... I have an embarrassment of riches in that regard."

"But I thought you were a dom!"

Joyce smiled. "I thought I hid that better. I'm not dominant with Richard, and it's not like we've been living a bdsm lifestyle."

"Yeah. But you project a very dominant vibe. Plus the occasional costume party, the way you play with friend's minis, the way you've been with Margaret.... It's not like it was a big secret," said Stephanie. "So, how can you handle this?"

"You've been reading all those psychology books, Steph. You should know that every dom has a submissive side, just like every masculine man has his feminine side. I'm just getting in touch with my submissive side."

"Yeah, but...."

"And Margaret is getting in touch with her inner dom. Don't you think that's a good idea? You wouldn't want her to become a total submissive, like Misty's Aunt Susie, would you?"

"No..., but...."

"And you wouldn't want me to be like little Frank or the Marquis de Sade, would you?"

"No. But mom, have you ever read 'Mother Night' by Vonnegut? There's a famous line in it: 'Be careful what you pretend to be, because you are what you pretend to be!'"


Margaret did finally take the antidote--forty years later. It was shortly after Richard passed away. Joyce was having difficulty with arthritis and wanted to become an itty biddy. So, she and Margaret switched roles for her final years. Margaret set a record as the longest-minned person to ever be restored. A record that stood for several decades.

Jackson's comic book enjoyed some cult success. DC Comics even picked it up, as a miniseries. It had decent sales. It had guest appearances by Hawk Girl, The Black Canary, Raven and Robin (a female incarnation). But that turned out to be a tactical mistake; the suits at DC credited its success to the guest stars and declined to pick it up. Magpie and Starling did continue to enjoy modest success as an independent web comic for several years.

Jackson went on to have success as an artist and graphic designer. He was very happy, with a wife, two minis (both, former cheerleaders from Stephanie's old squad) and five children.

Michael did not marry Misty, though they remained good friends. He married his college sweetheart, Christine Andersen, who was a lot like Misty. Stephanie got along with her – in some ways even better than with Misty. But she and Misty remained life-long friends.

Michael and Stephanie spent their college summers working at the Fantasia mini commune in Orlando, where Michael would have himself minned for the summer. After three years of this, he was warned that he faced an increasing risk of getting stuck, so Stephanie insisted that he not do it again. She and Christine both agreed they liked him better full-sized.

Stephanie was the first (but by no means the last) mini in America to go all the way through college and grad school and get a medical degree. There had been other minis to get medical degrees, but they had all been minned after starting college. She became a psychiatrist and had a very successful practice. There was even a movie, “Shrink!” very loosely based on her life, starring Jennifer Lopez as the tiny shrink. They fictionalized it, to combine elements of her real life, as a mini psychiatrist, and her 'fictional life', as the inspiration for the popular comic character, Starling.

Margaret became very enthusiastic about the idea of having more children. She had long regretted that she and James never had more. She felt that, in a world of dwindling resources, a tiny child would not be handicapped – as long as he or she had full civil rights. She read extensively about female anatomy and obstetrics, which led to her becoming Joyce's assistant. She had special body suits made by the Trojan company, so she could perform examinations and even minor surgeries, under Joyce's supervision.

Ultimately, twenty million to one were too long of odds for Margaret to conquer. She never did get one of Joyce's eggs to implant. Instead, she found the egg that would become her daughters, while performing a simple tubal ligation. She recognized it right away, in the bright light of her 'spelunking helmet'. The largest human cell is visible, even to big people. To a mini her size, it looked like the priceless pearl it was. It got her so excited, she quickly got herself off. (A woman's orgasm is designed to suck a man's sperm deep inside her, and Margaret knew how to use it for the same effect on the tiny egg.) Joyce and the patient both gave her dirty looks when she came out, but she just said that the operation had been a toughie.

Margaret always insisted that the egg had been Joyce's, but Joyce suspected that she knew where Margaret had gotten it. Nine months later they had beautiful twin daughters, Cynthia and Cassiopeia. They had Richard's eyes and Joyce's nose (which was pure luck) and were as alike as peas in a pod. In fact, their grandmother got them a bassinet that looked like a pea pod.

The two looked so much alike that only Margaret and Stephanie could tell them apart – until they were thirteen years old. That year, they both entered puberty; and Cassiopeia had a mysterious growth spurt that, in a few short years, took her from seven inches to six-foot-seven, while her sister Cynthia (fifteen minutes her elder) topped out at nine inches even. This led to some interesting situations.

But that's another story.

Shrink Aprentice
Shrink Aprentice
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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by ralgar » Fri Jun 10, 2022 2:39 am

Well congrats on the story and it was very good, kinda will miss the updates for it. I did look forward to this story.

Shrink Aprentice
Shrink Aprentice
Posts: 28
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Re: Mini Vacation

Post by MrWitness » Fri Jun 10, 2022 10:16 am

It is a great story! Thank you for your input on this forum.

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