He sat on her chin, making a distinct effort not to laugh every time she tried to peer at him over the summit of her nose. Her eyes crossed before she closed one, then the other, trying to look around each of her nostrils to catch a blurry glimpse of his tiny shape. Why she chose to set him on her chin was beyond his ken, like so many things she did or said. He bit his lip and listened to saliva clicking in her mouth as the muscles that governed her lips began to shape words. She was about to say something. He dug into her soft flesh with his little hands. He knew his hold was meaningless if her words were strong enough to buck.
“I need a story.”
“A story?” he asked, feeling himself bob up and down helplessly as her jaw stretched. He could hear muscles longer than his body play with the opening of her mouth, even if he could not see them inside her head. He wondered why he had asked her that when he heard her so clearly, instead of making sure she said as little as possible. Instead of doing all he could to avoid being hurled into her heavily guarded mouth, even if by accident. She answered with a frustrated gust of warm wind hitting him square in the everywhere before she reiterated her demand.
“Yes. Tell me a story.”
“I-I don’t know any.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I move to your chest? Every time you say anything, I feel I’m going to fall off and tumble down either side of your head, and crack my skull so many feet down to the ground.
“Feet to me.”
“Yes, but inches. And you’re not going to fall. You’re going to sit there and tell me a story.”
He clutched handfuls of her skin as tightly as he could. His fingers, infinitesimal as they were, could not compete with whatever moisturizer from hell she applied to her face every morning. Even when he dug his heels into the border of her lower lip line and turned his feet into wedges between it and the protrusion of that massive swath of pink flesh, he felt as unsteady as a leaf in the wind- no, a leaf in the gutter, to be swallowed by darkness too profound to contemplate. Still, he thought, and thought, and came up with nothing. Rather than say as much, he recited his own life to her.
“Once upon a time there was a man. His name was-”
“What? I’m telling you my story.”
“I… I don’t know. I’m… I feel alarmed to know your name, after all this time.”
“How do you know it’s my name, and not just a made-up bunch of random words?”
“Because I know. I know things. Like how I knew I could shrink you even though such things are impossible.”
“I see. I guess you do know, because I was about to tell you what used to be my name. We both know that’s not my name now.”
She sighed so hard, she almost blew him off her. And she didn’t notice.
“His name was Orton Ransom McGillis- Hey! Watch it!”
It was clear she was trying to contain her mirth, and badly. She was biting her lower lip, and the skin on her chin felt dimpled and taut under him. She was gasping and about to throw him off.
“Stop! You’re gonna make me fall.”
She kept at it for a few seconds longer before her amusement was brought to check, but not before she sighed a bit too happily.
“Aren’t you happy your name is Toy now?”
“Yeah, sure. Ecstatic. Look, do I tell you a story, or can I get off now?”
“Not yet. Go on, tell me your story. I’m sorry.”
“OK, that’s better. So, his name was Orton, and he worked in the porn industry-”
“Just- let me finish.”
Again, contained laughter about 5.4 on the Richter scale. He waited it out, wishing for a dark corner in which to hide. Once it was over, he cleared his throat and went on.
“Poor, misunderstood Orton worked in the porn industry composing summaries for porn films. His carefully worded descriptions and delicately crafted keywords filled the world of Internet porn and the still existing DVD market. The money was adequate, but the hours were hell. One particularly grueling day, Orton made his way to his car. He was exhausted, and not paying attention to his surroundings. When he was unlocking his car, he caught movement on the side window’s reflection, and turned his head long enough to see a woman reach his side.
He turned to defend himself, but instead stood there as she smiled at him, and brought her face up to his, and kissed him fully on the lips. He was so startled by her behavior that the prick in his neck went almost unnoticed. What he did notice was that everything turned into darkness then, and when he came to, nothing looked familiar. He would not realize for a full minute that he had been taken from his life, his work, and everything he once knew, and transformed into a two-inch tall man-”
“Man. I’m a man, no matter what you say or how you treat me.”
“Shush. Don’t tempt me to prove your wrong. Finish your story.”
“So, this little man finally made sense of the roaring sound that assaulted his senses, and understood it to be the engine of a car. He finally made sense of the heat surrounding him, and understood it to be mountains of smooth human flesh. He finally made sense of the coarse texture on which he stood, and understood it to be the seat of a car. The driver’s seat.”
The wall of her lower lip stretched into a smirk, and Orton, now Toy, read her thoughts in it. He knew she was thinking of what she made him do as soon as he recovered consciousness. No explanation, not a single demonstration of care, or an attempt to assuage his fears. His panic. His horror. He graduated from man to sex toy that very moment. Magna cum loudly.
“After months of being treated like an object, Orton began to think of himself as one. He stopped begging to be regrown or returned to his life. He didn’t have to work anymore, except as a human dildo for the woman that shrank and took him. He had zero responsibilities, except to keep her satisfied. His family, his friends, everyone that had once known him were still grieving for him, looking for him, crying for him; but the woman, his owner, didn’t care. She wanted him so badly, none of that mattered.”
“Poor, unfortunate Orton.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that. You’ve always said I’m the luckiest toy in the world.”
“I’m talking about Orton, not you. You are the luckiest toy in the world.”
“Anyway. Orton made peace with his fate, and realized his place was with this giant woman that loved him as the most precious thing in the world.”
“The universes. Reality. Realities. All dimensions.”
“Is that what I am to you? The most precious thing in all universes dimensions everything?”
“Yes. Everything, everywhere, and beyond, where there is nothing and nowhere. You are the most important nothing there too.”
“Hmm. Thank you. I think.”
“Did you like my story?”
“Yes, I loved it.”
“Can I get off now?”
“No, Toy. Ladies first.”