It’s Saturday, so that means…
RANDOM COLLAGE TIME!
There’s something about stories or collages that show a shrunken man that manages to stand his ground despite his reduced condition. I collect those images with a passion, because in my head, in my world, my tiny man shows that same bravado. I find it extremely annoying that just because a man is reduced in size to that of a speck, he then transforms into this mindless lump of flesh that can’t think or feel or express his own opinion about important matters.
The matter of having been shrunk, for example. In my fantasies, he always has something to say about my having reduced him in size. And why shouldn’t he say something? I always take him by surprise when I do. It’s always some sort of ambush on my part, even though I’ve issued warning after warning. He never believes I’ll actually go through with it, but I do. And when I do, he is likely to become a trifle unhinged at finding himself the size of a toy, unable to wear his clothes, or carry his wallet, or handle his keys. Everything about him that made him who he is, is gone.
Or is it? Just because I’ve transformed him into a tiny bit of clay I can mold to my every whim, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t resist, or yell at me, or protests the very change with which he’s always dreamt. I want him to protest. He better protest. (Though I will secretly confess I also go crazy for a man who shrinks, and then gives me a lewd look and asks, “So, what now, tall stuff?”) And after he protests, he can get on with his life and proceed to become my toy.
I feel the same about a man that meets a giantess—perhaps a slightly troublesome one—yet he has the courage to face her and demand that she stop her shenanigans. So she’s sitting down, occupying an entire road, and she claims she’s just “watching people?” He gets out of his car, walks over to her, and taps her toe until he gets her attention. It might sound suicidal to you, but to me there is immense charm in a man that can tell her to get her gigantic ass out of the way, because he has to get to work, and she’s not that cute anyway, and how dare she be this inconsiderate. A man like that is worth a second look.
And a third, and a fourth. A man like that is worth following to work to see where he toils all day long, and he’s also worth following home, so that giantess can later return, when she’s in the mood to do so, and peel off that roof of his, and lift him from his tiny bed, to then ask him if he still doesn’t think she’s cute, and if there’s anything at all she can do to change his mind, for example this, or maybe that.
Yes, a small man can have a spine, and he can show his spirit is not diminished. As far as my imagination goes, he better.