Giantess Tales

Giantess Tales

Friday, January 10, 2020

A snippet from an upcoming story. Diary of a shrunken man: Her giantess world

Still rough draft.


Entry 1

It was more surreal now-a-days when things LOOKED normal. Or normal-ish. I wasn’t not used to seeing things on my scale, or close to it. That little bit off made it even more weird than “big people” stuff. In fact, I was about bit bigger than toddler sized compared to my doll house. Still, when I was in an unguarded moment, I could almost think of it as status quo, a not so incredible day in the life of an incredible shrinking man. Other things were off. The stitching was huge in the furniture. The cushions weren’t all that cushiony. The books were all actually stickers on wood. That bummed me out. I miss reading things without having to get up and tug on the page like a picnic blanket. Luckily my giant friend with benefits was an avid reader, and loved similar things I did before I shrunk. 
The windows are what really could throw you for a loop. YOu’d just start to feel comfortable, normal, then you’d gazed out the window. And you would see hardwood floor, or her fuzzy rug. Her dresser or her bed would rise in the sky instead of neighboring houses or apartment buildings. Hills of laundry would often dot the landscape, instead of green, which she owned little of in the way of clothing, it would be black, or pink, or yellow...maybe some rainbow stuff. Hearts. Comic or anime characters. A logo of an athletic company. 
That was when I was on the floor. Sometimes, I was on a desk, or a table, or a dresser or something. I’d see a laptop, or a magazine, or her phone, or makeup. Often stuff was casually tossed against my little house. I was blocked in the door by a hair scrunchy for a while, one day. It was a big one. Luckily, I could go to the second floor and jump down on it if I wanted too. It would break my fall.
I almost felt like the good old days as I looked out at the new normal landscape in all its fantastical detail. My new shrunken reality was a dream come true, but a dream I could never wake from. So now, my dream, my fantasy was my old life. And as my vision fuzzed looking at Mt. Bra Cup, or Worn Stocking Road, or The Heel That Nearly Impaled Me Building, or the Leather Stinky Sandal Park, the surreal stillness would invariable start to shake. On the second floor, especially the floor shook when she approached. I had a little, well huge, thimble of water, and it jostled like in Jurassic Park one time as she was down the hallway. I’d stare out at the sink that didn’t have running water. The cabinet doors would open exposing the decals that illustrated dishes. And her door would open and close, somewhere out of sight. The calm landscape then was subjected to her casual, effortless powers as her bare foot crushed the Bra Mountain, or kicked the sandal playground a few football fields out of her way, or she would pick up her worn stocking with her toes. From the window, I could seldom see all of her unless I leaned out of it, unless she was very far on the corner of her room. I was treated to a show of her lithe legs from about knee down trouncing around her room. Sometimes clumsy stomps, sometimes gracefully in her king toes, her foot flexing and arching around the clutter. She could clear my house with a single stride, and often did when I want against the wall. Sometimes she did this, just going abiut her life. With no regard for me, but often she put on a show, for me and herself. She loved imagining being big in my tiny world as opposed to the other way around. Sometimes she would get so close to the hose, all I could see is her ankle. And the wast of air at her step blew I the window. Along with the smell of her foot sweat, or leather from her shoes, or whatever sweet lotion she would wear. I was on my world, she in hers. Separate, different species, her a real person, me an insignificant to toy man, or me a man, and her a super hero, a user villain, or a goddess. 
Don’t get me wrong. I was by her side, or literally in her side pocket, or if she was in a frisky mood, in somewhere more intimate most of the time. She even carved out a space in her wooden heel of a sandal to put me in. She loved taking me with her, and having me sitting by her as she typed, or ate. I often slept next to her on the pillow, or just somewhere in bed. Yeah. I almost got rolled over on a few times. She kept me in her stocking one night. It was as “punishment”. I forgot what I did. It was because she has a foot fetish, in truth,  and that’s where she wanted me. I loved it too at first. But...eventually you want to drift off to sleep, and I was upright the whole night. She almost forgot I was there. Her heel actually hit the damn floor! But she remembered at the last second and lifted her foot. I think it was an accident. She may have been playing with me. She loved demonstrating her power over me casually.
That’s the whole reason I get to spend time in the house, I think. I mean, she really does care about me. And realizes it is kind of a good luxury for me. But, I think she just liked the idea of another thing to tower over. I can see the glee she has as she reaches in the window for me. She even talks a little deeper, or makes a cute growl like a monster. She can lift the roof off too. But she doesn’t do that too often. She’d rather reach in for me, or put her hand up at the balcony for me to hop into.
And she loves “sneaking” up on me...I can feel the ground quake no matter how light her steps. She’s not just a giant to me, but she’s a six foot woman in real life, with size 11 feet. Not a stealthy lass. But, I sort of ignore it, for her benefit, so she can peer in the window. I can hear her breath right outside the window. The curtains sometimes even blow. And sometimes, I can hear her moan and tremble a bit. She’s obviously exploring herself during her peep show. And, it is expected of me to put on a show for my giant, kinky voyeuristic owner. Sometimes it’s day to day life. Very mundane stuff. But it always culminates in me stripping slowly preparing for a shower that doesn’t work. Or to get into bed. Or masturbating on the couch. Sometimes my show is interrupted as she can’t take it anymore and grabs me with pussy juice soaked fingers and she locks me from head to toe, or plunges me inside her. 
She is mischievous on occasion. I’ll be dozing off on the couch, or on my tiny bedroom. She will have been laying there silently, her giant eye filling a window. Then...one time she shoved a pair of very stinky, still damp stockings she had slowly peeled from as she lay on her belly looking at me, right in the window. They filled the room. I was trapped under an oppressive, hot wad of silky cloth. Here giggles filled the air. Her eyes in one window, she easily reached her hand around the other one to shove the stockings in. I was on no danger on injury, but was trapped. Then she shoved more in. The stockings had previously occupied all the space on my bedroom, but they tightened with the new arrival. She asked if I was comfy, then laughed and said she couldn’t hear my muffled shouts as a response. I was there forever. When she pulled the stockings out, I was stuck to the sweat of the black, silky ones. My arm caught I. A small hole in the toe. 
Another time, I was in bed when I heard a gurgling slosh. I awoke just in time to see peach jello up to the level of my bed and still rising. I jumped to the door, wading through the torrent of viscous gloop, only to find it blocked. The jello kept coming. She made a big bowl. I saw the unmistakable pattern of her palm, which I had ridden on hundreds of time before, blocking the other window. It was the. I noticed the roof was off so she could stare in at me, laying, but also biting her lip. I was now waist high in jello, then chest high. A huge surge rushed in as she dumped the rest of the bowl. It was cold and sticky. It knocked me down. I went under. It pressed down upon me. I could see her distorted face through amber prisms. I was pretty worrie. I saw her finger reaching for me, but then she pulled them back. She lowered her face. Or couldn’t fit in the ceiling’s opening of my bedroom. She stretched her lips down to the jello and started sucking and slurping. Luckily the jello was thick enough that I had air as I wa trapped but it was heavy and cold. Then a rush of vertigo and heat as she sucked me right up out of it. She panties with me I her mouth. She kept this up for a while. I shivered as I warmed up on her tongue. Then light streamed inas I fell into the sweet goop again. I landed mostly on top but as I moved, started sinking in farther. Once again her face looked over me and I was rescued by her lips and tongue. This went on a while. Finally she leaned back against my house. She dropped me out on her hand, and absentmindedly let me roll out in a wet tumble onto her tummy. I caught my butt in her belly button, with my head pointed toward her waistband if her shorts and my feet up toward her head, far in the distance. She pat her full belly. She was trim, almost skinny, but her belly had pooched out slightly, about five or six feet, thanks to being full to a room’s worth of jello. I heard a gurgle under me, and she burped a loud resounding belch. She sighed happily. As she looked over through the roof into my room. She commented that she didn’t think that prank through well. She picked up me bed between two fingers, trumping to avoid getting the slime on herself, dainty all of the sudden. She had an Oh, brother, perturbed look. “Well, this is ruined.” She grasped the bed fully in her king lanky fingers. “Might as we’ll finish the job.” She squeezes and grunted. I felt her and tense under me. Her fist moved forward as she applied pressure till it was right over a spot in front of me. I heard a loud snap, destroyed bed, wet fabric, and clumps of jello the size of watermelons rained down on her. She smiled satisfied at her feat of strength as the said eewww and brushed the debris and slop off her. 
If there is one disappointment to her, it is that the doll house is made of material from her world, and not a shrunken world. So, it’s still tough. She can’t break it as easily as she could if she were a giantess. Think about what a foot the size of hers would do to your house. But, stepping on actual wood, and plastic, and even cardboard, from her scale is pretty tough on even a big foot like hers. Her skin is very soft, after all. She constantly pampers her feet, with plenty of help from me. I think she wants to make me a little house out of paper, or very flimsy balsa wood or something and chase me around as I run. When it gets warm she plans on making some elaborate sand castles and invading my village while I run.
Yeah, she is happy with me. But she wants more. Way more. Her thirst for power has become more grand. She wants a whole tiny city. She said I’d be her favorite, and she’d protect me...even if she played rough, but she would be merciless in her treatment of the other tiny people and buildings. She glazes over speaking of it. She gets very animated at times. She starts sweating as she talks about stomping on tiny buildings, whether there were people in the north or not, and finding a concert of tiny people, like 10,000 of them for her to stomp like grapes. She doesn’t usually get much past that before she grabs me to use me as a toy. It makes her so fucking horny. 
And she is happy with my scale of a few inches, but...she gets fixated on tinier people. Much tinier. She was eating a cupcake, and she plopped me on it. “Oh, no! I guess I have to lick you off!” Every time. She was getting into and she stopped, pink frosting on her lips, smacking as she talked with her mouth full of boulder sized bites of cupcake. 
“I wish there was a whole city on this cupcake. A big one too. Like New York, or Chicago.” I thought I was going to get eaten alive. She attacked the cupcake with a new ferocity, with her tongue at first, then she took a huge bite I barely avoided being in. She slowly lowered her lips over the remaining cupcake, and I was actually as much afraid as I was excited at the time. She bit the cherry on the cupcake. The huge, beach-ball sized fruit stuck in her teeth and hovered over me. then she bit down! I was covered in juice and her spit. She swallowed greedily. 
One time, I was in a bowl of grapes she was eating. She faked like she was going to grab me, then she actually grabbed me a few times and tossed her in her mouth. “Oops!” Then she spit me out. It was a frequent game. Other than the vertigo, I liked it. Then she lay down on her bed, and put some grapes on the pillow. She laid down so her face was right by the pillow. She wanted me to feed her like a goddess, she said. I picked up a grape, like Atlas, and sauntered over to her mouth. I climbed on her cheek. 
“Tickles,” she said with a giggle. I dropped a grape in her mouth. And almost feel in. I braced myself on her slick, glossy, lips. She slammed her maw shut. She ate while making “Nghah! Gnah! Gnah!” Noises. Opening her mouth fully each exaggerated bite. It was a real white river rapid style ride. She swallowed. 
“Ugh. You’re too slow.” She picked me up off her lips, peeling me off her lip gloss. She sat me on her belly. I could hear the chaos below within. Everything about her was powerful. 
She picked up more grapes and went to town chatting. Not caring if her mouth was open. In fact, I think she made a point to do it. Just another way to demonstrate power over me. Then she paused. She considered the grape a moment. 
“I wish this was a planet.”
I looked up at her from around her belly button. I could barely see her face from between the valley of her breasts. 
“Yeah. A whole planet. 8 billion people. I want all these to be planets. A whole solar system to eat, to crush between my toes...” She trailed off. Her free hand snapped her fingers above me as she pointed down toward her yoga shorts. She lifted the waistband, and I knew what to do. I could hear her eating planets above as the smell of her arousal washed over me.

Entry 2

I felt like my skin was getting pulled off. I couldn’t breathe as the air was pulled out of my lungs, and just as I was about to gasp, a gallon of her sweet spit sloshed on my face. She was making exaggerated, almost deafening “mmmmmmmmmm!” Noises. They shook my body. I thought she may be getting too carried away. This time was it. Her power over me would prove fatal. I started to tingle from lack of oxygen. 
Splash!
I hit her palm in a wet, sticky slap. I pushed her spit from my face as it clung in huge globs. Surface tension was different for liquids at my scale. I panted. I saw her giant tongue come out and lick her massive, pouty lips. 
Just as I got my breath starting to come back, her giant finger prodded me and rubbed along me. The ridges of her finger were soft, but the texture dragged on me. Her skin was moist, but it still stuck on me and pulled at me. It traced over my pecs. She flicked her own spit off of my body. Then touched me again, going from my pecs to my abs, Her finger tip was almost as wide as my body, and such a contrast between being gentle, but so powerful. She could press down, and I’d be done. Severed in half. She kept her nails pretty short, just a little extending past her fingertips. The curved, surf-board-thick nail wasn’t sharp, but was menacing nonetheless, and could easily rip me open. It glistened with sparkly, vibrant, pink polish, and a little of her own spit, and some frosting, or other sweet thing I was stuck in moments ago. 
Her finger withdrew, and her face backed up so I could see almost her whole head. Her eyebrow furrowed in slight frustration. 
“Hmmmm,” she considered. “Still sticky. Wow. I can’t seem to lick or suck this stuff off of you. And you don’t look so good down there. I know a play pretty rough, but I think if I suck any harder, I might swallow you whole.” She lost in thought for a bit. Imaging it. Thinking about whether to do it or not. Her eyelids grew heavy...her gave a predatory, sexual expression. I felt a breeze, exaggerated by my damp skin, as her eyelids fluttered and she snapped back into the present. Her conscious and imagination fought one more time, and this time, once again, I won, barely.
“Yeah, goddess. That was a bit of a rough ride.”
“Awwwww! Little man. I guess I don’t know my mouth’s own strength.” She giggled and her hand shook. 
An idea lit up her face. She inhaled sharply, and I thought I was going to be sucked back into her mouth. It was enjoyable in there most of the time, but I felt like I almost didn’t make it, so was a bit wary of going back in. That was not the plan, luckily. 
“Ok,” She said as she lowered her eyes right over me. I couldn’t no longer see her mouth, or even the bottom of her nose. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Oh?” I was still breathing irregularly, and my heart was still elevated...that was pretty normal around her. Suffice it to say, I couldn’t say much else at the moment. 
“Yes. The good news,” she drew out her words, to foster suspense. It worked. My fate was literally in her hand. Being tiny lends itself to so many puns come true, or turns of phrase that get yanked from the realm of metaphor to reality. “...is...You get to take a bath with me. I mean, I guess I could just use the sink, but I’ma little sore from volleyball, so a good soak would do me.”
“Ok.” There were so many inherent dangers in what she proposed. It would be like being trapped in a large oceanarium tank with a sea monster that barely fit in it. Her family was well off, but no way they had a tub long enough for all of her, so the tank would probably not fit her. But, also, despite the opportunities to drown, or get squashed, the thought of her long body, glistening, perfect skin, and the warmth surrounding me was hot. And, honestly, the idea of getting really clean was very appealing. I mean, as I am tiny, I have almost none of my own BO. But, i often smelled like her feet, or her pussy. Or whatever dessert she was eating that day. It was only the fact she dipped me in some particularly sticky, persistent sweet stuff...the likes of which I don’t entirely know what it was—cherry, chocolate, and like a cream—i was wading through it, sinking in it like quick sand, you name it. And it’s not like she explained it this time. She grabbed me like a toy, and I went from the dark of inside her hand, to falling a few stories, screaming, and going plop into some sweet gloop. She laughed and then licked around me then licked me, then...repeat.
Wait. “The bad news?” I gasped out. My breath was returning almost. 
“Oh, Yeah!” I couldn’t see her smile, but her eyes and cheeks moved in a way that suggested that far below, there was a pretty wicked grin going on. “Well, my feet won’t be all sweaty and stinky like you like. I’ll have to get out some leather pumps. And put them under a blanket or something...with you in the pointy toe section, maybe. She was imagining it again. “But,” she said returning to the present. “Dirty time is later. This is good, clean fun time.”
We started heading toward her bathroom. It was smallish, but the tub was big. There was the sink, where I had a swimming pool sized bath a time or two before. Well, she cleaned me, like a little pet. I didn’t do much myself. She was good at it. I did get clean, and I did cum, if you must know. She licked it off her finger tip, and said, hey. I do get to eat part of you, at least.
She sat on the bath and turned the water on with the hand I wasn’t in. A torrent that rivaled a river rapid I rafted on as a kid gushed out. I felt the warm steam. She sat her hand down on the porcelain rim of the tub, and i stepped down. She very often dropped me. I think she got amusement out of that. But, it was always on a dessert, or in one, or on the bed, or her fuzzy carpet, but when it came to hard surfaces, she was gentle. The rim was wide, so there was little chance I’d fall off. And kind of cool on my feet. I stuck to it slightly as I walked around, which reinforced the need for the bath. She towered over me so much, even though only less than half of her was on the tub rim. She took her T-Shirt off, and dropped it on the floor a few yards away. As she unhooked her bra, she looked down at me. 
“You know, I take pretty good care of you. Most of the time when you’re a dirty little man, I lick you clean. Maybe you can do that for me. I want you to lick my feet clean. I’ll get in the tub, and relax...and put my feet up on the ledge, and you can get to town. Her bra hit the floor. She dropped it very close to me.
“Yes, goddess.” When she gave me commands like that, the preferred response was to agree and call her Goddess. She loved that. Our conversations were often very cordial, and casual, genuine friends. But...there was BDSM giantess style time, and we had our roles. I knew mine, all too well. 
“It will take forever! But...I want to enjoy myself. And, I will make sure you do too.”
The red wood of a woman stood. Even though I wasn’t down on the ground...my god. I know I say it over and over again, but she’s so fucking tall. It defies florid language. It’s just...fucking tall.
She slowly dropped her panties, and shimmied out of them. She picked them up with her toes, and hovered them over me. She let go and laughed. From in the translucent, dim light of her painters, I could vaguely make out the shape of gigantic movement. And herd squeaks of her flesh on the rim of the tub. And, then a splash like a hurricane wave. And her feet plopped on the ledge next to me. I smelled them, even through the musk of her panties. 

Entry 3

I sat there on the bed, and then lay down. From down on the floor, she called up. “Do you miss things in your old life?” She was lying on the floor in a similar position that I was in. I saw her long leg reach into the sky from below. Her ankle flexed and her foot wrinkled and un wrinkled as she relaxed. Her toes curled. I wondered if she imagined me under them again. I started to. 
I snapped out of it, and thought. “Well, I guess I miss working out. I feel like I’m running and trying to lift plenty of things, but I haven’t done too much actual working out.”
With a rapid pounce, her head and shoulders appeared over the edge of the bed, and she crossed her arms and plopped her chin on them. The mattress shook, and the inevitable slide toward the dent in the mattress she made started. 
“I think you look great.” She uncoiled her arms and let her long finger trace my body. “Especially those little legs...and maybe those pecs. Nice shoulders too.” She was getting lost in thought, and her finger tip was pressing harder into me. Her eyelids got a bit heavy, and I wondered what horny thought she was concocting. She was so thirsty. And, she was really enjoying the dominance over me. I think if she never met my tiny ass, she would have drifted into a realization she was into dominating men. And she was tall too, so she would have enjoyed towering over them a few inches...but in my case, she loved I was a shrunken man, who didn’t even come up to her ankles. 
“Uh, thank you,” I said, as her finger tip almost pressed the breath out of me. 
She shook herself out of her trance, and lucidity returned to her eyes. A new game popped into her head, i figured. 
“I know! I can come out with a workout routine for you!” She popped up to her full, staggering height. She started to sprint off across her bedroom. BUt she turned around. “Wait there!” She pointed at me. And then she returned to her journey to her closet. She fell on her knees with a tremendous, room shaking THOOOOM! She started tossing clothes here and there. 
“Ahaaaa!” She spun around and triumphantly held up a fishnet stocking. She turned back around and rooted around for another. Upon getting it, she walked, still on her knees, in an awkward, earthquake inducing lopping gate till she was right at the edge of the bed. She bumped into it. If I were not already sitting down, I would have fell. She dangled the fishnets over me. I could smell that she had worn them. 
“I got these for Halloween, and wore them once, and kept them. I thought they were hot, but...a little sexy for my day to day wear.” 
“They’re hot, I said. She liked when a told her aspects of her were hot. Not just her whole body, but individual parts. She loved that. 
“Why, thank you, little man.” She almost purred. “They were literally hot. So...a little sweaty, but nothing you’re not used to.”
She smiled down at me. I think she wanted me to “get it”, but I didn’t know her next move. 
She sensed this. “You’re going climbing!”
“Oh!” I said. That’s what she wanted. 
She sat back on her ass, and the room shook again. She started putting the first fishnet on. She went on to explain as she put on her little fashion show. “Yeah! I will put these on, and you will climb my long legs!” She laughed. She was so tickled by this. It hit a lot of her checkboxes: They were sexy, I was going to be super small compared to her, I would be touching her, and she loved dominating me. NEver, or usually never in a cruel way, but she loved to be the goddess telling her worshipper what to do. There was still always this youthful, “playing with dolls” quality to our interactions. She hadn’t played with dolls in a long time, I imagined, but this rekindled a part of her she never totally let go of. And she sexualized it. A lot. 
“Ok, I used to be pretty good at climbing, but I never climbed anything...” I gestured to her leg, as far away as I was...” That tall. 
She beamed. She loved that parts of her body overwhelmed me with their size. IT made her feel powerful, and thus very turned on. I saw that look on her face.
“Well, you’ll just have to work your way up. Lots of practice.”
“I’m afraid of falling.” This also made her put. She’d never try to hurt my outright, but the fact I could possibly die by falling from the height of her leg...that was power.”
“Hmm, I can tie a string to you, and let you dangle there like a little pice of jewelry. I like tying you up.” She winked.
“Ok, I’m still a bit afraid.”
“Don’t be a little wimp. You’re a big tough guy” She laughed. “Oh, I think I know...you just want to spend time down by my feet. She stomped down hard, and shook the ground again. She raised her eyebrow, basking in her power. 
“Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for you to worship under my feet. BUt...” She started tracing her fingers over her garter belt and then popped it against her thigh. “I need some attention up here too!” She breathed deeply, and cooed as her finger went higher up her thigh, and traced along her waist band, and then, abandoning all subtly, she rubbed her fingers over her pussy lips through the panties. She often grabbed me, most of the time without asking, and dropped me in her panties when she wanted me in them. Her fingers continued their journey up her exposed midriff, pausing at her belly button, and up to her breasts, between them, as much as the bra exposed. 
“Too bad you can’t make it all the way up here. I know! Maybe I’ll get a full, body stocking made of fishnet!”
“I don’t know, goddess. I don’t know if I can make it even up to your shin.”
“Well,” she considered. “I guess we’ll just have to train you a lot. In the meantime, let’s find out!”
She slammed her foot on the mattress, and I lifted in the air about 10 feet. The scent of her worn stockings, and lotion blasted at me. It was strong, and intoxicating. 
“Climb aboard! I’ll give you an elevator ride to the floor.”
I didn’t have to make my way over to her foot, as the dent in the mattress caused me to roll toward her foot, and land against it. I found myself partially under her arch, wedged in.”
“Do you want to get punished little man?” She laughed. “I said, you can spend time under my feet later. It’s climbing time!” I am almost surprised she let it drop that quickly. She loved finding capricious reasons to punish me. I did too. “Get out of there!”
I used the ropes of her sweaty feet to pull myself out. She could have helped by rolling her foot or lifting it a bit, but she did not. One out from under her high arch, I used the ropes of the stocking to make my way along her foot. The surface under my own feet was precarious due to her weight compacting it. I thought about that weight. If I were under her foot when she slammed it, even though it was on a soft mattress, I would have likely squished to a stain. Deep down, I know that would turn her on. I think, sometimes, tough she’s not overtly cruel to me, her dominance is always playful, though sometimes scary, she would enjoy squishing me. Or eating me. Or drowning me. I think the only reason I’m still alive sometimes, is she could then no longer play with me. I had better remain useful, amusing, and fuel her fantasies of being a giant goddess.
I made my way to the front of her toes, and they pressed into the mattress enough that I actually tumbled onto the top of her foot. I hung onto the ropes, sort of wrapping my arms in them to hang on. 
“You know, if I found a way to make you even smaller, you might be able to use the thread from my regular, sheer stockings to climb. How hot would that be?”
Before I could answer, she lifted her foot.
“All aboard!” She was slow with her movement, but I still felt the wind whip though my hair. When we reached the floor, she was a little updatable from standing on one foot for so long, so her toes came down forcefully. The thought of this human skyscraper toppling over...possibly on me send good and bad chills through my body. She lifted her heel off the ground, and I felt gravity take hold as I tumbled off her toes, and in front of them. 
I looked up, and up, and up at her. She smiled over her breasts, hands on her hips. 
“Get to work, tiny.”

——



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