Tricky Dice for Tricky Tara
One Foot Tall Fiancé
chapter 22
by
copier
· original author:
worstfailure
"WAKEY, WAKEY, LIL JAKIE!"
The voice that woke you sounded like a canon going off right in your ears. You opened your eyes and immediately wished you were dead, and not just because you were still reduced to a smudge in your aunt's ass crack. In addition to the regular pain that came from being crushed, you were also suffering from the worst hangover of your life. The light from outside was blinding, the tiniest noise was deafening, and it felt like a hundred jackhammers were playing a rock concert in your head. You felt nauseous, a feeling that was intensified by the smells and sensations that accompanied your current location. You prayed not to vomit, not just because you were afraid of what your aunt would do to you, but also because you mouth was currently smeared shut and you didn't want to find out what would happen if you actually did puke. Unfortunately, your tolerance was tested as your aunt's press-on nails came reaching in, fumbling over your flattened form, trying to gain a grip so she could pry you out.
Given your stature, you had always been careful to know exactly your limits when it came to drinking, and last night you had broken past them and never looked back. It may have been stupid, but you wanted to celebrate. Not only had you managed to win your challenge, but you'd actually managed to get the teeniest iota of respect from your aunt, something you had long ago given up on. However you had justified it at the time, right now you were swearing to never touch another drop of alcohol in your entire life.
"Come on, runt, work with me," Tara grunted. "I thought the entire point of these challenges was because you didn't want to stay in there. There we go," she said as she managed to hook a nail under you. Direct contact with skin always made it more difficult for you to be pried free of whatever fleshy prison you found yourself in. Tara had plenty of experience though, and after a few minutes she peeled you off like a sweaty bandaid and dropped you on the same bedside table she'd placed you on the previous morning. She watched patiently as your body took its sweet time slowly re-inflating.
"So, you have a good night's sleep?" Aunt Tara asked cheekily. She was speaking at normal volume, but her voice still registered to your ears as mighty booms. Somehow, despite everything she drank the day before, she was already sipping on another beer.
"My head," you moaned. "How can you still be drinking?"
Tara shrugged. "A fluke of genetics, I guess. Just like you! Only, instead of being shrimpy and squishy, I've been given a rockin' bod and an inability to get hungover. It's not my fault you got the... short end of the stick."
You sighed. After last night's bonding, the short jokes were back already.
"Your fiancee's a bit of a firecracker, isn't she?"
"Cassie?!" You jerked your head up at the mere mention of her, then immediately winced in pain from the sudden movement. You wanted to know what she and your aunt had talked about last night but you also wanted to respect her privacy. She had asked to speak with Tara alone, and you didn't want to go poking your nose where it didn't belong. Luckily for you, your Aunt Tara had absolutely no respect for the privacy of others.
"Don't worry, squirt. Everything's been taken care of."
"It has?" you asked skeptically. Cassie had sounded so venomous the night before, it was hard to believe.
"Don't get me wrong, we're not besties or anything, but we've reached an understanding. Obviously this isn't how she was expecting things to go, but in the end, she saw things my way," Tara said, smirking. "She may not like what's going on between us, but she's accepted it. Trust me, she's not worried about you anymore. That gives me and you all the time in the world together."
"I hope not," you chuckled, oblivious to the sinister hidden meanings behind your aunt's words.
"Oh come on, Jake. Is spending time with your Aunt Tara, really that bad?"
Given that literally every encounter you've had with your aunt over the course of your life was guaranteed to end with you in pain, you could comfortably think, but not voice aloud, that yes, spending time with her really was that bad. Even if she considered it tough love, that didn't make any of your past experiences any less traumatizing. Still, now that you finally understood her motivation, you were confident this was the first step on having a healthy relationship with your aunt.
"Don't get me wrong, Aunt Tara," you said. "I'm glad that I finally understand where you're coming from, but I'd still rather be with my fiancee than wedged up your crack another night."
Tara smiled brightly. "Yeah, you'd have to be the dumbest person in the world to throw away your chances with a girl like her!" Aunt Tara laughed much harder than you thought such a comment warranted, but you politely chuckled along. "But," Tara said, growing serious, "I hope you still plan on honoring our new agreement?"
"Of course I will!" you said without thinking.
"Good. I'm very glad to hear that squirt," Aunt Tara said. Her mattress creaked as she leaned her curvaceous bulk back against the pillows lined along the headboard. She smiled at you proudly. "Because at this point I wouldn't let you go even if you begged me to."
You blinked, confused. Maybe it was the hangover. You must've imagined hearing that. She couldn't of said what you thought she just said.
"I... I'm sorry, what was that?" you asked.
"Jake," Aunt Tara drawled, "you love your fiancee, that's obvious. So you must want what's best for her. So wouldn't you agree that she deserves to be with a real man? Someone who's strong and tough and capable of protecting her--and himself--from the horrors of the world. Someone with unbreakable integrity. In short, someone the complete opposite of you."
Your jaw dropped. You had no idea what to say. And your fears weren't assuaged at all when your look earned an uproarious bout of laughter from Tara.
"What's with that face, squirt? Jeez, let me finish before you go crying. All I'm doing is explaining why it's so necessary for me to keep you here. You can't just go running off back to your girlfriend when the going gets tough. Especially after last night, where you made that big speech about the importance of keeping your word and telling her that you can't go back to her until you redeem yourself. How could you ever face her again if you broke your promise a second time after telling her how much you value your word? If you can break your promises to me at the first sign of trouble, how could she ever trust you to uphold your vows to love her in sickness and in-health? If I were in her shoes and I knew you weaseled your way out of another sticky situation, I'd dump your ass and shag up with someone with integrity," she thought then added, "after pawning the ring." Your aunt guzzled down the rest of her beer, belched shamelessly then carelessly tossed the empty can over the side of her bed away from the trashcan. "Yeah, it's clear to me there's no other way. I'm morally obligated to keep you here. No matter how long it takes, I swear I'll use my challenges to whip you into shape. After that, you'll be together forever with your soulmate," she said with an odd twinkle in her eye.
You gulped audibly. It was true you had already agreed to take part in these challenges to commute your sentence, but deep down there had always been an optimistic part of you that believed Tara wasn't completely without mercy. That if things got too difficult, she'd still let you tap out and go home. Hearing her say so casually that she had absolutely no intention of letting you go until you completed her challenges caused the full ramifications of your situation to finally sink in. You were completely at her mercy. Your mother didn't know where you were, she couldn't save you. Nobody from college knew either. And just last night you'd refused help from the one person who loved you and was willing to rescue you. You had convinced her this was what you wanted and the punishment you were willing to take. The only other person who knew your location was Ms. Smalls, and she had been the one to convince you that mailing yourself to your aunt was the best thing to do. Suddenly you were feeling nauseous all over again.
"Alright, I'd say you're 3-D enough, small fry," Tara said. "Maybe 2-and-a-half-D. Either way, you can roll a pair of dice."
She shoved the dice into your arms. For some reason they felt heavier than they did the day before. You didn't put much thought into it as your arms, along with your entire body, was sore from the torment you'd been put through during the last 48 hours. You chucked the dice--and your heart sank as they both came up sixes.
"Twelve," Tara said, looking like she was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. "That's a tough break, shrimp."
"Tough break" was underselling it. Twelve was the worst possible outcome. If you lost today's challenge you were guaranteed an additional twelve days with your aunt, and all the "tough love" she had at her disposal to "make you a man."
It was as if your aunt could read your mind, "Sorry squirt, but I can't go easy on you. That would defeat the entire point of the challenges. But don't look so sad! You surprised me yesterday! Maybe you can do it again today!"
She was positively beaming as she said this. The tone was optimistic but the words were somehow mocking. You wondered if that was intentional. You tasted vomit in the back of your mouth. You swallowed, throat burning, and asked...
"What's today's challenge?"
Aunt Tara smiled.
The voice that woke you sounded like a canon going off right in your ears. You opened your eyes and immediately wished you were dead, and not just because you were still reduced to a smudge in your aunt's ass crack. In addition to the regular pain that came from being crushed, you were also suffering from the worst hangover of your life. The light from outside was blinding, the tiniest noise was deafening, and it felt like a hundred jackhammers were playing a rock concert in your head. You felt nauseous, a feeling that was intensified by the smells and sensations that accompanied your current location. You prayed not to vomit, not just because you were afraid of what your aunt would do to you, but also because you mouth was currently smeared shut and you didn't want to find out what would happen if you actually did puke. Unfortunately, your tolerance was tested as your aunt's press-on nails came reaching in, fumbling over your flattened form, trying to gain a grip so she could pry you out.
Given your stature, you had always been careful to know exactly your limits when it came to drinking, and last night you had broken past them and never looked back. It may have been stupid, but you wanted to celebrate. Not only had you managed to win your challenge, but you'd actually managed to get the teeniest iota of respect from your aunt, something you had long ago given up on. However you had justified it at the time, right now you were swearing to never touch another drop of alcohol in your entire life.
"Come on, runt, work with me," Tara grunted. "I thought the entire point of these challenges was because you didn't want to stay in there. There we go," she said as she managed to hook a nail under you. Direct contact with skin always made it more difficult for you to be pried free of whatever fleshy prison you found yourself in. Tara had plenty of experience though, and after a few minutes she peeled you off like a sweaty bandaid and dropped you on the same bedside table she'd placed you on the previous morning. She watched patiently as your body took its sweet time slowly re-inflating.
"So, you have a good night's sleep?" Aunt Tara asked cheekily. She was speaking at normal volume, but her voice still registered to your ears as mighty booms. Somehow, despite everything she drank the day before, she was already sipping on another beer.
"My head," you moaned. "How can you still be drinking?"
Tara shrugged. "A fluke of genetics, I guess. Just like you! Only, instead of being shrimpy and squishy, I've been given a rockin' bod and an inability to get hungover. It's not my fault you got the... short end of the stick."
You sighed. After last night's bonding, the short jokes were back already.
"Your fiancee's a bit of a firecracker, isn't she?"
"Cassie?!" You jerked your head up at the mere mention of her, then immediately winced in pain from the sudden movement. You wanted to know what she and your aunt had talked about last night but you also wanted to respect her privacy. She had asked to speak with Tara alone, and you didn't want to go poking your nose where it didn't belong. Luckily for you, your Aunt Tara had absolutely no respect for the privacy of others.
"Don't worry, squirt. Everything's been taken care of."
"It has?" you asked skeptically. Cassie had sounded so venomous the night before, it was hard to believe.
"Don't get me wrong, we're not besties or anything, but we've reached an understanding. Obviously this isn't how she was expecting things to go, but in the end, she saw things my way," Tara said, smirking. "She may not like what's going on between us, but she's accepted it. Trust me, she's not worried about you anymore. That gives me and you all the time in the world together."
"I hope not," you chuckled, oblivious to the sinister hidden meanings behind your aunt's words.
"Oh come on, Jake. Is spending time with your Aunt Tara, really that bad?"
Given that literally every encounter you've had with your aunt over the course of your life was guaranteed to end with you in pain, you could comfortably think, but not voice aloud, that yes, spending time with her really was that bad. Even if she considered it tough love, that didn't make any of your past experiences any less traumatizing. Still, now that you finally understood her motivation, you were confident this was the first step on having a healthy relationship with your aunt.
"Don't get me wrong, Aunt Tara," you said. "I'm glad that I finally understand where you're coming from, but I'd still rather be with my fiancee than wedged up your crack another night."
Tara smiled brightly. "Yeah, you'd have to be the dumbest person in the world to throw away your chances with a girl like her!" Aunt Tara laughed much harder than you thought such a comment warranted, but you politely chuckled along. "But," Tara said, growing serious, "I hope you still plan on honoring our new agreement?"
"Of course I will!" you said without thinking.
"Good. I'm very glad to hear that squirt," Aunt Tara said. Her mattress creaked as she leaned her curvaceous bulk back against the pillows lined along the headboard. She smiled at you proudly. "Because at this point I wouldn't let you go even if you begged me to."
You blinked, confused. Maybe it was the hangover. You must've imagined hearing that. She couldn't of said what you thought she just said.
"I... I'm sorry, what was that?" you asked.
"Jake," Aunt Tara drawled, "you love your fiancee, that's obvious. So you must want what's best for her. So wouldn't you agree that she deserves to be with a real man? Someone who's strong and tough and capable of protecting her--and himself--from the horrors of the world. Someone with unbreakable integrity. In short, someone the complete opposite of you."
Your jaw dropped. You had no idea what to say. And your fears weren't assuaged at all when your look earned an uproarious bout of laughter from Tara.
"What's with that face, squirt? Jeez, let me finish before you go crying. All I'm doing is explaining why it's so necessary for me to keep you here. You can't just go running off back to your girlfriend when the going gets tough. Especially after last night, where you made that big speech about the importance of keeping your word and telling her that you can't go back to her until you redeem yourself. How could you ever face her again if you broke your promise a second time after telling her how much you value your word? If you can break your promises to me at the first sign of trouble, how could she ever trust you to uphold your vows to love her in sickness and in-health? If I were in her shoes and I knew you weaseled your way out of another sticky situation, I'd dump your ass and shag up with someone with integrity," she thought then added, "after pawning the ring." Your aunt guzzled down the rest of her beer, belched shamelessly then carelessly tossed the empty can over the side of her bed away from the trashcan. "Yeah, it's clear to me there's no other way. I'm morally obligated to keep you here. No matter how long it takes, I swear I'll use my challenges to whip you into shape. After that, you'll be together forever with your soulmate," she said with an odd twinkle in her eye.
You gulped audibly. It was true you had already agreed to take part in these challenges to commute your sentence, but deep down there had always been an optimistic part of you that believed Tara wasn't completely without mercy. That if things got too difficult, she'd still let you tap out and go home. Hearing her say so casually that she had absolutely no intention of letting you go until you completed her challenges caused the full ramifications of your situation to finally sink in. You were completely at her mercy. Your mother didn't know where you were, she couldn't save you. Nobody from college knew either. And just last night you'd refused help from the one person who loved you and was willing to rescue you. You had convinced her this was what you wanted and the punishment you were willing to take. The only other person who knew your location was Ms. Smalls, and she had been the one to convince you that mailing yourself to your aunt was the best thing to do. Suddenly you were feeling nauseous all over again.
"Alright, I'd say you're 3-D enough, small fry," Tara said. "Maybe 2-and-a-half-D. Either way, you can roll a pair of dice."
She shoved the dice into your arms. For some reason they felt heavier than they did the day before. You didn't put much thought into it as your arms, along with your entire body, was sore from the torment you'd been put through during the last 48 hours. You chucked the dice--and your heart sank as they both came up sixes.
"Twelve," Tara said, looking like she was trying very hard not to burst out laughing. "That's a tough break, shrimp."
"Tough break" was underselling it. Twelve was the worst possible outcome. If you lost today's challenge you were guaranteed an additional twelve days with your aunt, and all the "tough love" she had at her disposal to "make you a man."
It was as if your aunt could read your mind, "Sorry squirt, but I can't go easy on you. That would defeat the entire point of the challenges. But don't look so sad! You surprised me yesterday! Maybe you can do it again today!"
She was positively beaming as she said this. The tone was optimistic but the words were somehow mocking. You wondered if that was intentional. You tasted vomit in the back of your mouth. You swallowed, throat burning, and asked...
"What's today's challenge?"
Aunt Tara smiled.
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March 28, 2025
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