I couldn’t help but smile when I added the “gentle” tag to this blog entry. Yes, because fantasizing about stalking a man is gentle. Imagining injecting a shrinking formula into his lovely, manly neck is gentle. Watching him fall into deep terror as his body shrinks and his clothes don’t, is super gentle. Extracting him from his life without a goodbye-and-thank you note to his family and friends is… well, so gentle.
And let’s not even go into what happens after that. One gentle tsunami after another. When gentleness can be translated into “he didn’t die, after all”, and “it will heal in a few weeks”, and “who needs sleep anyway”; when love and tenderness look like rainbows on his skin; when he feels like the smallest axis on an enormous, turning world… that’s when I know I’ve stretched a word so long, so thin, so precarious in meaning, so intricate in pattern that the slightest breeze makes it glint in the utter darkness, like a spiderweb gone wrong.
Is this feeling what you little people call… guilt?
Hug the Undersquid 
Once you start down the path of guilt, forever will it dominate your destiny. I’d recommend that you put it out of your mind and just keep doing whatever the hell you like. He’ll learn to keep up. :-)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Not to cause (or eliminate) alarm, but there is no path of guilt for me. It’s more a puddle into which I occasionally dip my toes. But what an excellent way to Yoda up my blog. There can never be enough Yoda.
LikeLiked by 1 person
At 2 foot 2 inches tall, Yoda’s the original tiny man.
When 900 foot tall you get, look as good you will, hmmm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am really looking forward to more of these…,
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Toyfriend! There will be more.
LikeLike
Yup, guilt. Being raised Catholic I know that feeling guilt is like spooning extra sugar onto morning cereal. Enjoy the sugar!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Guilt. Sugar. One parent attempted to raise us Catholic. The other parent, having being raised in the deep, warm embrace of atheism, raised us in a cult. I can’t begin to tell you the combination of flavors guilt had for me, growing up. It’s like that baking soda box that Homer found in the fridge, and ate with unbridled thoughtlessness.
LikeLike
So gentle it’s cruel. So pleasurable it’s painful. Is it guilt you feel?
LikeLiked by 1 person
You know my every thought on this already, but I will indulge your little question. Yes, even the most gentle of giantesses can feel guilt, no matter how well she treats her little man. Even when he’s her most prized possession, even when she goes to lengths that no other creature on Earth would inspire in her, even when she holds that little toy in the highest of regards, she goes through times when she feels like a double-edged mountain of feelings crashing down onto that bit of flesh she prefers above all.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I dunno, getting in between a guy and his lunch. That’s just wrong. You should feel guilt, but not for long. I’m sure he’ll forgive you eventually.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your comment made me smile. Poor sandwich!
I wish that was the worst thing for which he finds himself irremediably compelled to forgive me.
What compels him to forgive me? Me. :D
LikeLike
That’s the fascinating dichotomy in our worlds. I insist I’m a Gentle writer, yet the worst things happen to tiny people in some of my stories, where being stuffed deep into a self-absorbed woman’s butt can be an act of love. So what makes me Gentle? What makes you Gentle?
I assume it’s the intention. All we’re thinking about is the cuddling, the possession, the communion of affection. Details like how we got there and what happens afterward are non canon. Picture a five-year-old trying to make a sandwich for a beloved parent. The sink is overflowing, the oven’s on fire, much of the fridge has been dumped and scattered around the room, but nonetheless, there is a small child proudly holding a sandwich made with unfettered love. And so we’re Gentle.
LikeLiked by 2 people
True, but don’t you often find that the parts of your brain that are tickled by your writing and not the same as the parts that are your personal Prime Directive for this fetish? If I only wrote about HOT, then… well, those are the exact waters from which I want to emerge. I have concentrated so heavily on writing about what I find hot, that it becomes a writing groove from which I now must escape. And I am. I still have to have my conflict, my journey, my resolution, my sexy characters… but YES, it’s the intention. Absolutely. I’m enjoying the process. For the most part.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, sure. Sometimes I want a large salad, and sometimes I want to saw into a ribeye. The excitement I get out of developing characters and working them through relationships and real-world (as close as I can manage) situations is nothing like feverishly typing out a sequence of greedy, desperate sexual engagement.
Now I get what you’re trying to work past. I’m struggling with word choices and interesting turns of phrase, getting past starting every sentence with the subject, sensing when to use conversational markers and when they’re unnecessary. (And now that you bring it up, I wonder if my fixation of technique and usage has gently led me out of my focus on sex.) As far as themes and subject matter go, my blog represents a departure from everything I have stored on GiantessWorld. So I think that’s what you’re trying to do too, now.
LikeLiked by 1 person