Becky's Disdain
A Shrunken Roommate (Re-upload)
chapter 8
by
Bobob1
“Whoa!” Morgan suddenly shouted, jumping to her feet. “I almost totally forgot that I was about to start getting dinner ready.”
Avery grinned playfully. “Geez sis, NOW who’s the forgetful one!” She giggled, and then paused. “Though, I guess I totes forgot too…”
Morgan rolled her eyes and grabbed her sister’s hand, yanking her to her feet. As she did so, she bumped into the coffee table, jostling it and knocking you flat onto your face. Without even a glance backward, Morgan led Avery around the couch and towards the kitchen, pausing by the door. If there was any clear evidence that you’d slipped their minds since Becky’s arrival, that was it.
“It won’t be much more than some lasagna and garlic bread, but you are more than welcome to stay with us for dinner, Miss Wallace.” Morgan offered, and Becky smiled warmly.
“Oh, that’s so kind of you dear!” She put a hand to her abundant chest. “I’d be delighted.”
Morgan nodded, then glanced at Quinn. “We might actually need your help too, Quinn. We’re a bit behind schedule as is.”
Quinn paused for a second, and glanced uneasily at you down on the table. “Uh…s-sure. Give me a sec.”
“No problemo, Quinno!” Avery lilted with a smile, before disappearing into the kitchen with her twin.
Not wanting to leave you alone with her mother for even a second, Quinn started to stand up, while also reaching for you. However, before she could secure you in her grasp, Becky’s hand shot out and lightly gripped her daughter’s wrist, stopping her.
“Quinn, darling. Go help your friends.” Becky smiled pleasantly. “I feel like I’ve hardly let this poor little guy get a single word in during our conversation. Please allow me to get to…know him a little better.” Becky’s expression was nothing but happy and sincere, but even from your perspective down on the table, you could see the glint of ill-intent in Becky’s eyes.
You could only assume that Quinn saw it too, but unfortunately, Quinn clearly hadn’t fully conquered her past trauma with her tiny-hating mother. You could practically see the indecision all over Quinn’s face, as she mentally wrestled with the prospects of standing up to her mother. Finally, the fear of damaging one of the few precious relationships she held close to her heart won out, and Quinn relented, withdrawing her hand.
With just another quick glance at you, Quinn shuffled out of the room, and vanished into the kitchen with the Sinclair sisters. All alone in the living room with Becky, you dragged your gaze from the room where your three roommates had gone off to, and over to the absurdly curvaceous and gorgeous form of Becky, who towered far above you even while seated. Her smile remained, but it had taken on a decidedly less friendly appearance.
Gulping, you frantically tried to establish some friendly groundwork. Perhaps prove you weren’t just some lay about, perverted tiny. You stammered out a greeting. “Um…hello! My name is Hunter Woods. Don’t know if anyone said it yet! Heh. Uh…nice to meet you, Miss–”
“Don’t address me by name, bug.” Becky sneered, the blunt coldness of her voice physically shocking you. It was so jarringly different from her clingy and sweet persona from just a minute ago. How could this woman possess two starkly different personalities and portray them both with sincerity? Why did the simple fact of being tiny generate this aura of malice from her?
You paled, blood running cold. “Uh…should I call you something else?”
Becky rolled her eyes with annoyance. “Ugh, I hate hearing you little bugs talk. Your tinny voices are so grating. Can’t you all just be like other bugs and stay silent?”
Her overbearing nastiness was beginning to egg you own, and you couldn’t stop yourself from showing some backbone. “Hey, tinies are people too. Can you please be a bit nicer? I’m just being friendly.”
“Hah! Is that right?” Becky scoffed a harsh laugh, then leaned over you. The shadow her body cast over you enshrouded you in darkness, and your bravado started to shrivel up. “Let me make your pathetic little position clear, bug, by getting two things straight.”
She ticked off one of her fingers. “One: tinies are not people. They are annoying little nuisances that make real people’s lives inconvenient. Don’t you know what else in the world is an inch tall and squishes pathetically? Bugs! And what are bugs fit for? Being trampled underfoot without a second thought!”
Becky grinned smugly, then ticked another finger off. “Two: there is no such thing as a tiny being friendly. All tinies are two-faced liars and degenerates. They are perverted little monsters that flaunt their vulnerability and freakish genetics to get sympathy from the bleeding hearts of politicians. All these tiny-rights laws were made by people who don’t know the truth. Not like I do.”
Her impassioned speech, delivered at a quiet but powerful whisper, had completely taken you off guard. Even Quinn’s warning about her mother’s hatred of tinies hadn’t prepared you for as angry a viewpoint as this. Becky’s face was filled with malice and contempt, and just the way she looked at you made it clear that she saw you as sub-human. Beneath her, and hardly worth her attention.
At the same time, as she was talking about ‘knowing the truth about tinies’, there was a small sign of grief in her eyes. Though you could only make an inference, you began to wonder if it was possible that all of Becky’s rage against tinies had been born so long time ago in the past, involving a traumatic incident with a tiny (or a group of tinies). Did she have some sort of past memory that was twisting her current actions in such a way as this?
Too afraid to ask, you could only stutter out a helpless decree. “I-I don’t know…what to say, ma’am. I don’t a-agree with you. I think I’m a pretty normal guy just trying to live my life. Finding a home with my new roommates is my perfect chance to get a new start on life and really come into my own. Also, meeting Quinn has–”
Becky had looked supremely disinterested in your rebuttal, up until you mentioned Quinn’s name. Snapping to attention, Becky grinned like a shark securing its prey. “Ah! There it is! My precious daughter, my sweet little angel, my Quinnie! You perverted little freaks just want to take advantage of her, abuse her, satisfy yourselves with her!”
You gaped. “What? No! Of course not! I consider Quinn to be a great friend!”
Becky waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t lie, because it won’t work on me. I already told you that I know the truth about tinies.” She groaned, and ran a hand through her hair. “Damn. I’ve gotten softer on the bugs. I would’ve never had a conversation with someone like you back in the day. My Quinnie hanging out near a tiny? Bam. Molded into a thong and donated to the local thrift shop. My sweet angel brings a tiny friend home for a playdate? That tiny finds a new permanent home in my underwear drawer.”
You began to shake with panic, and glanced nervously between Becky and the kitchen door. All you could hear from the kitchen were laughs and the sound of the oven. Your three roommates were probably having a blast bustling around to whip up dinner, all while you were being berated and insulted by this clearly devout tiny-hater. You seriously doubted a single thing you could say at this point would soothe her.
Instead, you took the only option left. You opened your mouth and shouted. “QUINN! PLEASE–”
As soon as the first syllable left your mouth, Becky rammed her fist down onto the coffee table, splattering your body effortlessly into a mashed blob. Your cry for help died in your throat, and you could just barely hear the sound of boisterous giggling from the kitchen, courtesy of Avery. Her laughter easily drowned out what little cry you had been able to shout before Becky’s intervention, and your roommates remained blissfully unaware of the vengeful mother taking action in the living room.
Becky stood up from the couch as she peeled you from the table, and deposited your crumpled body in her palm. Grimacing down at you with sheer disdain, she sighed. “And now, I have the annoying task of finding a suitable way to dispose of you. A fittingly humiliating end to a bug like yourself. Serious enough that maybe, just maybe, you learn your place.” She sighed wistfully. “At the very least, you won’t ever be able to manipulate my Quinnie ever again.”
She began to absentmindedly squeeze and squish your body between her fingers, using you like a makeshift stress toy, as she ran ideas through her head. Try as you might to wiggle or squirm, it was absolutely impossible to escape her grasp now. She had you all to herself, and if some stray miracle didn’t occur now, you genuinely began to fear for your fate. Whatever plan she settled on would not be pleasant.
Though her exact reasonings for despising tinies were still a mystery to you, it was one-hundred percent clear that you would never, ever receive mercy from Becky Wallace.
Avery grinned playfully. “Geez sis, NOW who’s the forgetful one!” She giggled, and then paused. “Though, I guess I totes forgot too…”
Morgan rolled her eyes and grabbed her sister’s hand, yanking her to her feet. As she did so, she bumped into the coffee table, jostling it and knocking you flat onto your face. Without even a glance backward, Morgan led Avery around the couch and towards the kitchen, pausing by the door. If there was any clear evidence that you’d slipped their minds since Becky’s arrival, that was it.
“It won’t be much more than some lasagna and garlic bread, but you are more than welcome to stay with us for dinner, Miss Wallace.” Morgan offered, and Becky smiled warmly.
“Oh, that’s so kind of you dear!” She put a hand to her abundant chest. “I’d be delighted.”
Morgan nodded, then glanced at Quinn. “We might actually need your help too, Quinn. We’re a bit behind schedule as is.”
Quinn paused for a second, and glanced uneasily at you down on the table. “Uh…s-sure. Give me a sec.”
“No problemo, Quinno!” Avery lilted with a smile, before disappearing into the kitchen with her twin.
Not wanting to leave you alone with her mother for even a second, Quinn started to stand up, while also reaching for you. However, before she could secure you in her grasp, Becky’s hand shot out and lightly gripped her daughter’s wrist, stopping her.
“Quinn, darling. Go help your friends.” Becky smiled pleasantly. “I feel like I’ve hardly let this poor little guy get a single word in during our conversation. Please allow me to get to…know him a little better.” Becky’s expression was nothing but happy and sincere, but even from your perspective down on the table, you could see the glint of ill-intent in Becky’s eyes.
You could only assume that Quinn saw it too, but unfortunately, Quinn clearly hadn’t fully conquered her past trauma with her tiny-hating mother. You could practically see the indecision all over Quinn’s face, as she mentally wrestled with the prospects of standing up to her mother. Finally, the fear of damaging one of the few precious relationships she held close to her heart won out, and Quinn relented, withdrawing her hand.
With just another quick glance at you, Quinn shuffled out of the room, and vanished into the kitchen with the Sinclair sisters. All alone in the living room with Becky, you dragged your gaze from the room where your three roommates had gone off to, and over to the absurdly curvaceous and gorgeous form of Becky, who towered far above you even while seated. Her smile remained, but it had taken on a decidedly less friendly appearance.
Gulping, you frantically tried to establish some friendly groundwork. Perhaps prove you weren’t just some lay about, perverted tiny. You stammered out a greeting. “Um…hello! My name is Hunter Woods. Don’t know if anyone said it yet! Heh. Uh…nice to meet you, Miss–”
“Don’t address me by name, bug.” Becky sneered, the blunt coldness of her voice physically shocking you. It was so jarringly different from her clingy and sweet persona from just a minute ago. How could this woman possess two starkly different personalities and portray them both with sincerity? Why did the simple fact of being tiny generate this aura of malice from her?
You paled, blood running cold. “Uh…should I call you something else?”
Becky rolled her eyes with annoyance. “Ugh, I hate hearing you little bugs talk. Your tinny voices are so grating. Can’t you all just be like other bugs and stay silent?”
Her overbearing nastiness was beginning to egg you own, and you couldn’t stop yourself from showing some backbone. “Hey, tinies are people too. Can you please be a bit nicer? I’m just being friendly.”
“Hah! Is that right?” Becky scoffed a harsh laugh, then leaned over you. The shadow her body cast over you enshrouded you in darkness, and your bravado started to shrivel up. “Let me make your pathetic little position clear, bug, by getting two things straight.”
She ticked off one of her fingers. “One: tinies are not people. They are annoying little nuisances that make real people’s lives inconvenient. Don’t you know what else in the world is an inch tall and squishes pathetically? Bugs! And what are bugs fit for? Being trampled underfoot without a second thought!”
Becky grinned smugly, then ticked another finger off. “Two: there is no such thing as a tiny being friendly. All tinies are two-faced liars and degenerates. They are perverted little monsters that flaunt their vulnerability and freakish genetics to get sympathy from the bleeding hearts of politicians. All these tiny-rights laws were made by people who don’t know the truth. Not like I do.”
Her impassioned speech, delivered at a quiet but powerful whisper, had completely taken you off guard. Even Quinn’s warning about her mother’s hatred of tinies hadn’t prepared you for as angry a viewpoint as this. Becky’s face was filled with malice and contempt, and just the way she looked at you made it clear that she saw you as sub-human. Beneath her, and hardly worth her attention.
At the same time, as she was talking about ‘knowing the truth about tinies’, there was a small sign of grief in her eyes. Though you could only make an inference, you began to wonder if it was possible that all of Becky’s rage against tinies had been born so long time ago in the past, involving a traumatic incident with a tiny (or a group of tinies). Did she have some sort of past memory that was twisting her current actions in such a way as this?
Too afraid to ask, you could only stutter out a helpless decree. “I-I don’t know…what to say, ma’am. I don’t a-agree with you. I think I’m a pretty normal guy just trying to live my life. Finding a home with my new roommates is my perfect chance to get a new start on life and really come into my own. Also, meeting Quinn has–”
Becky had looked supremely disinterested in your rebuttal, up until you mentioned Quinn’s name. Snapping to attention, Becky grinned like a shark securing its prey. “Ah! There it is! My precious daughter, my sweet little angel, my Quinnie! You perverted little freaks just want to take advantage of her, abuse her, satisfy yourselves with her!”
You gaped. “What? No! Of course not! I consider Quinn to be a great friend!”
Becky waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t lie, because it won’t work on me. I already told you that I know the truth about tinies.” She groaned, and ran a hand through her hair. “Damn. I’ve gotten softer on the bugs. I would’ve never had a conversation with someone like you back in the day. My Quinnie hanging out near a tiny? Bam. Molded into a thong and donated to the local thrift shop. My sweet angel brings a tiny friend home for a playdate? That tiny finds a new permanent home in my underwear drawer.”
You began to shake with panic, and glanced nervously between Becky and the kitchen door. All you could hear from the kitchen were laughs and the sound of the oven. Your three roommates were probably having a blast bustling around to whip up dinner, all while you were being berated and insulted by this clearly devout tiny-hater. You seriously doubted a single thing you could say at this point would soothe her.
Instead, you took the only option left. You opened your mouth and shouted. “QUINN! PLEASE–”
As soon as the first syllable left your mouth, Becky rammed her fist down onto the coffee table, splattering your body effortlessly into a mashed blob. Your cry for help died in your throat, and you could just barely hear the sound of boisterous giggling from the kitchen, courtesy of Avery. Her laughter easily drowned out what little cry you had been able to shout before Becky’s intervention, and your roommates remained blissfully unaware of the vengeful mother taking action in the living room.
Becky stood up from the couch as she peeled you from the table, and deposited your crumpled body in her palm. Grimacing down at you with sheer disdain, she sighed. “And now, I have the annoying task of finding a suitable way to dispose of you. A fittingly humiliating end to a bug like yourself. Serious enough that maybe, just maybe, you learn your place.” She sighed wistfully. “At the very least, you won’t ever be able to manipulate my Quinnie ever again.”
She began to absentmindedly squeeze and squish your body between her fingers, using you like a makeshift stress toy, as she ran ideas through her head. Try as you might to wiggle or squirm, it was absolutely impossible to escape her grasp now. She had you all to herself, and if some stray miracle didn’t occur now, you genuinely began to fear for your fate. Whatever plan she settled on would not be pleasant.
Though her exact reasonings for despising tinies were still a mystery to you, it was one-hundred percent clear that you would never, ever receive mercy from Becky Wallace.
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April 23, 2025
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