Apparently, writing about shrunken men is some sort of drug I need or my brain melts. I’m not worried. I’m not at all worried. I am writing a longer story about a giantess, so Undersquid FTW. Don’t read this at work.
Ooh, spicy. So very spicy. And dark, like a chilli dark chocolate, ha.
How far ahead do you plan what happens to people in your stories? Or, how do you imagine this story to conclude? Because from what I could gather she’ll either break his will until he’s convinced he’s enjoying his current status or he’ll try to escape. Following which she’ll either crush him or shrink him smaller. So small he’ll never escape again for going outside at even more diminished stature would be suicidal. Or maybe she’ll shrink him further to crush him more easily.
So far I’ve done very little planning with my stories, and in this case there was no planning. I start writing, keep writing, and finish writing as though I’m reporting events I’m witnessing. That’s how it feels.
Any conclusion you imagine is entirely possible. Thank you! I’m quite happy you enjoyed my story. : )
Incredible. Frightening, a cautionary tale, nearly Puritanical in its lesson that the slightest misstep unfailingly results in damnation.
There’s that extra element in the story, that extra glint off another facet to the gem. Beyond the “yay, I’m reading about a tiny man being surrounded in sex” and “yay, I’m reading about a horny giantess who gets a tiny man,” there’s that whiff of “why does she hate him.” She picked him out, she kidnapped him, and her expression is delight but her actions are that she hates him for her desires, the things she calls him, how she ridicules him for his former life, how ready she is to kill someone he loves.
This work is very sympathetic to the tiny man’s experience, very attentive to his reduced perspective. Even this circles back to the giantess’s desires, exulting in how miserable he feels, aggrieved over what was taken away from him by a moment’s lapse in judgment (why did he agree to meet her?), and then his own self-loathing as being engulfed in the most passionate, enthusiastic coitus causes his own body to betray him. Perhaps the first foot down his own slippery slope, no pun intended.
Always so much emotion in these works. So little of the sexual mechanics described here, the sexual acts are implied by what the empty moments are like without them, and then the subsequent conditions to sex. It’s incredible, showing by contrast, implying by evidence. Powerful work, as always.
Thank you! I wish I could say the slightest misstep couldn’t possible have this degree of horrifying consequences, but we know that’s not the case.
She does hate him, in a way. She loves him too, but love and hate are just chemicals pushing and pulling in people’s brains.
I like that we can’t possibly know what she might have done to his girlfriend. I like thinking that she only had the ability or the means to shrink him, and if his girlfriend had returned at that moment some trouble might have ensued, but not the deadly kind the woman described.
He agreed to meet her because he was curious, “for the hell of it”, mindlessly. Maybe he never intended anything besides drinking a cup of coffee, but therein resides the slightest misstep.
Thank you for this comment! Writing these things can leave me exhausted, the emotion I pour into them real and a workout to my heart and mind. Yes, so much emotion.
Another wonderful slice of shrunken life hell. I love the snowflake imagery. I’m not certain about the science behind it, but your words made me believe it’s true. Bravo.
It was an arts performance poster* placed on a stand at an outdoors cafe. The jazz quartet that played that night was leaving, and they didn’t need the poster advertisement any more. The character in my story liked the poster and bought it. It reminded him of that fun trip, and of every opportunity he’d taken during it.
*based on a real poster I displayed in my living room for a long time.
Ooh, spicy. So very spicy. And dark, like a chilli dark chocolate, ha.
How far ahead do you plan what happens to people in your stories? Or, how do you imagine this story to conclude? Because from what I could gather she’ll either break his will until he’s convinced he’s enjoying his current status or he’ll try to escape. Following which she’ll either crush him or shrink him smaller. So small he’ll never escape again for going outside at even more diminished stature would be suicidal. Or maybe she’ll shrink him further to crush him more easily.
This goes without saying but I enjoyed the story.
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Thank you, Balore!
So far I’ve done very little planning with my stories, and in this case there was no planning. I start writing, keep writing, and finish writing as though I’m reporting events I’m witnessing. That’s how it feels.
Any conclusion you imagine is entirely possible. Thank you! I’m quite happy you enjoyed my story. : )
LikeLike
Incredible. Frightening, a cautionary tale, nearly Puritanical in its lesson that the slightest misstep unfailingly results in damnation.
There’s that extra element in the story, that extra glint off another facet to the gem. Beyond the “yay, I’m reading about a tiny man being surrounded in sex” and “yay, I’m reading about a horny giantess who gets a tiny man,” there’s that whiff of “why does she hate him.” She picked him out, she kidnapped him, and her expression is delight but her actions are that she hates him for her desires, the things she calls him, how she ridicules him for his former life, how ready she is to kill someone he loves.
This work is very sympathetic to the tiny man’s experience, very attentive to his reduced perspective. Even this circles back to the giantess’s desires, exulting in how miserable he feels, aggrieved over what was taken away from him by a moment’s lapse in judgment (why did he agree to meet her?), and then his own self-loathing as being engulfed in the most passionate, enthusiastic coitus causes his own body to betray him. Perhaps the first foot down his own slippery slope, no pun intended.
Always so much emotion in these works. So little of the sexual mechanics described here, the sexual acts are implied by what the empty moments are like without them, and then the subsequent conditions to sex. It’s incredible, showing by contrast, implying by evidence. Powerful work, as always.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you! I wish I could say the slightest misstep couldn’t possible have this degree of horrifying consequences, but we know that’s not the case.
She does hate him, in a way. She loves him too, but love and hate are just chemicals pushing and pulling in people’s brains.
I like that we can’t possibly know what she might have done to his girlfriend. I like thinking that she only had the ability or the means to shrink him, and if his girlfriend had returned at that moment some trouble might have ensued, but not the deadly kind the woman described.
He agreed to meet her because he was curious, “for the hell of it”, mindlessly. Maybe he never intended anything besides drinking a cup of coffee, but therein resides the slightest misstep.
Thank you for this comment! Writing these things can leave me exhausted, the emotion I pour into them real and a workout to my heart and mind. Yes, so much emotion.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You are a gifted writer! Is that you in the pic? :-)
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Thank you! No, that’s not me in the pic. I believe I found it at Pexels.
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MEMORY IS TREACHERY
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That’s probably why sometimes it’s all we have left.
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Everybody lies, but the best lies we save for ourselves.
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No kidding. Unfortunate and true.
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Another wonderful slice of shrunken life hell. I love the snowflake imagery. I’m not certain about the science behind it, but your words made me believe it’s true. Bravo.
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I’mma drop this mic now.
https://www.abc.net.au/science/articles/2000/03/07/108316.htm
Boom.
(And thank you! : D)
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I have to wonder what was on the poster, not that it matters. ;) Nicely done, enjoyed the different point of view here.
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It was an arts performance poster* placed on a stand at an outdoors cafe. The jazz quartet that played that night was leaving, and they didn’t need the poster advertisement any more. The character in my story liked the poster and bought it. It reminded him of that fun trip, and of every opportunity he’d taken during it.
*based on a real poster I displayed in my living room for a long time.
LikeLiked by 1 person