TikToking it out Puny Pervert chapter 10 by Froakie

You decide the time for subtlety is over. You want her to know you're here. You gather your strength and push against the inner wall of her sleeve, trying to create a noticeable bulge in the fabric. You shove with all your might, your tiny muscles straining. For a moment, you think you've made a small impression, a ripple in the cotton.

But it's nothing. It's like a flea trying to push a blanket. Your efforts are completely lost on the giantess. She sits down on a worn-out sofa in the break room, the impact sending you tumbling around inside her sleeve like a sock in a dryer. She sighs contentedly, the sound a rush of warm air.

You hear the click of a phone unlocking and the tiny, upbeat sound of a TikTok video starting. She props her phone up on a nearby table and leans back, settling in for her break. She takes a sip from a steaming mug of tea, the scent of chamomile and honey wafting into her sleeve. She is completely absorbed in her phone, scrolling through videos of anime transformations, elaborate cosplay tutorials, and dramatic makeup reveals. She is utterly oblivious to you. The tiny, adventurous man currently residing in her clothing, just inches from her warm, soft body. Your grand reveal was a complete, unnoticed failure. You are still just a secret, a stowaway on a young, curvy, ditzy, air-headed giantess.

Undeterred by your failed attempt, you resume your climb. You ascend the tunnel of her sleeve, a determined mountaineer scaling a fabric peak. The journey is easier now that she's stationary. You emerge from the darkness of her cuff onto the vast, rounded landscape of her shoulder. The air is cooler here, but the scent of her skin is still potent.

From your new vantage point, you have a stunning view. You can see the side of her face, her cheek flushed from the warmth of the tea. Her glasses are perched precariously on the end of her nose. On the screen of her phone, held aloft in her other hand, the TikToks flash by. Suddenly, the content shifts. Instead of makeup and cosplay, a new trend appears. Videos with titles like "Rock Your Man" and "The Ultimate Accessory" fill her feed.

In one video, a woman demonstrates how to attach a tiny, millimeter-sized man to her earring. Another shows a girl weaving multiple miniature men into a bracelet. A third, more provocative video features a woman laughing as she tucks a tiny man into the ample cleavage of her low-cut top, calling him her "living necklace." Gia watches, her expression unreadable, but she slows her scrolling, lingering on each video. She taps the 'like' button on the one with the man in the cleavage. A slow, curious smile spreads across her lips.

Emboldened by your proximity to her face, you decide to make a more direct attempt. You stand on the ridge of her collarbone and begin to jump up and down, putting all your weight into it. You hope the repeated, tiny impacts will be enough for her to feel, a strange, localized twitch.

You leap and stomp, your tiny feet making pathetic, silent impacts on her skin. You put everything you have into it, but it's no use. Your weight is simply insufficient to register on her massive frame. It's like a single grain of sand trying to make waves in the ocean.

Meanwhile, Gia is completely engrossed in her phone. She lets out another one of her signature giggles, a high-pitched, slightly snorting sound that ripples through her chest. "Oh, that's so silly!" she murmurs to herself, watching a video of a woman using a tiny man as a living ring, his tiny arms struggling to wrap around her finger. She scrolls to the next one, her thumb swiping lazily across the screen, completely unaware of the desperate, invisible drama playing out on her own shoulder. Your attempt to get her attention has failed once again, leaving you exhausted and right back where you started: a secret, insignificant speck.