The Finishing Touches
A Shrunken Roommate (Re-upload)
chapter 11
by
Bobob1
Brigitte continued to look at Quinn pleasantly, all while mangling your body between her powerful hands. More than muscular enough to easily dominate you, Brigitte reduced you into a paper-thin flat disc in seconds, and was now smearing you into a larger and larger circular shape with an annoying level of casual carelessness. Though she said that she genuinely liked you as an employee (and you believed her deep down) Brigitte was taking to using your License quite quickly.
“So, I’m going to have to delay you for a few more minutes, Quinn.” Brigitte explained. Quinn, who could barely stop from wincing at your treatment, slowly pried her gaze away from you and towards her boss.
“Uh…what do you mean?” She asked, fighting hard to slip back into her normal apathetic attitude. She hated what was happening to you, but couldn’t think of any way to change it. Brigitte’s points made perfect sense, and the law was the law, as much as Quinn despised it. Your black-haired roommate was also a bit afraid (though she’d never admit it) of disappointing her boss by maintaining a combative or sulky demeanor.
Brigitte rummaged around on her desk and retrieved her phone, then began typing the number pad before replying to Quinn. “Basically, I’m shit at anything related to design. If I tried to make Hunter into your replacement bikini bottoms myself, it’d be a mess.” Brigitte laughed heartily. “Thankfully, Natasha is much more skilled than I am, so let me call her real quick and she’ll drive over.”
Quinn nodded. “Ah, okay.” It took her a second, but Quinn recalled Brigitte mentioning before that she lived with her girlfriend, Natasha, in a spacious apartment not far from the beach. Natasha was, if Quinn was remembering correctly, a part-time fashion designer. After a moment of ringing, Natasha picked up, though Quinn could only hear Brigitte’s side of the conversation.
Brigitte lit up excitedly, presumably from hearing her girlfriend’s voice. “Ah, Natasha! Still at home?” A pause. “Uh huh, I need your help in the office. Little bit of styling and designing. Got a Usage License tiny for ya to mold into bikini bottoms!” Another pause. “Yes, babe, I know, you feel kinda weird about it, but you’re so damn good, baby.” One more pause. “Yes, paperwork’s all taken care off. It’ll be easy, and I’ll buy dinner tonight to make it up to you. Love ya!”
Brigitte hung up, then laid your pancaked body down on her desk. She then casually dropped a heavy notebook atop you, pressing you down hard onto her desk and ensuring you were unable to reform in the time that passed before Natasha arrived. The redhead giantess then leaned back in her chair and drummed her fingers on her desk. Quinn fought to keep her face neutral.
“So, I’ve got a few ideas for reorganizing volleyball competitions after the west nets broke…” Brigitte began, engaging your roommate in conversation. Able to slip into more normal work patterns, Quinn tried her best to ignore you and conversed rather pleasantly with Brigitte for the next fifteen minutes, passing the time amicably while you fought uselessly to wiggle out from under Brigitte’s notebook.
Eventually, Natasha arrived, and she swept into the room with a grin on her face, a skip in her step, and about a million art and design supply bags under her arms. Dropping the bags in an empty chair, Natasha giggled as she was swept up into Brigitte’s arms and kissed passionately.
Quinn was momentarily taken aback by Natasha. She vaguely noted that Natasha was African American, with curly brown hair that framed her face, and that she was exceptionally pretty. What threw her off was that Natasha was no more than 5’2”. Her short height was almost comedic in comparison to Brigitte’s towering form, and as it was, the muscular redhead easily lifted her girlfriend and spun her around.
Setting Natasha back down, Brigitte composed herself and then removed the notebook from atop your body. Gesturing to you, Brigitte retook her seat. Sobering up, Natasha approached the desk and gently scooped you up into her hands. Her delicate, artist’s hands rubbed and massaged your body, poking and prodding at you. Natasha bit her lip gently.
“Well, he’ll definitely work just fine. Soft and stretchy enough to fit even Quinn.” Natasha explained, causing Quinn to briefly blush at the offhand reference to her curvaceousness. Natasha didn’t seem to notice, though, and in fact went straight to using her sharp fingernails to tear your clothes off, leaving you totally nude in her hands. “He’ll need to be naked for the dye to work.”
Quinn furrowed her brow. “Dye? What’s that for?”
Natasha pulled a few bottles from her bag, as well as a medium-sized bowl. “Fabric dye is needed to dye…uh…this tiny dude…the same red color as all of our lifeguard uniforms.” Natasha glanced at her girlfriend. “Though it should be noted that the dye can permanently affect the tiny’s skin tone. Only the solvent liquid will restore his skin tone to normal. You DO have some in stock, right?”
Brigitte nodded vaguely. “Uh, definitely. I saw a few bottles in the storage room…last month or something.” She trailed off, and neither Quinn nor Natasha heard her last comment.
“Good enough for me.” Natasha smiled, before dumping a red bottle of fabric dye into her bowl. She mixed in a few other liquids, and then finally submerged your body into the bowl. You mentally screamed out as the cool liquid soaked and sloshed all around you, covering you entirely. Crumpled up as you were, you couldn’t do a thing to fight Natasha, and soon you were fully drowned in the bowl.
The giantesses left you to stew in the bowl for ten minutes, Quinn sparing you a glance every so often, but finally Natasha retrieved you. When she did so, you caught a brief glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a mirror on the wall, and found to your utter horror that your body was entirely dyed bright red. Every inch of your skin tone had been changed to a bright red color, with not a trace of your normal tan shade remaining.
“Ah, perfect!” Natasha grinned. She hastily plugged in a small blow-dryer into the wall and dried off the remnants of the dye from your body. She then laid you out onto Brigitte’s desk and grabbed some white fabric paint and a brush from her bag. She’d laid you onto the desk face first, so you couldn’t tell what was coming next, but you instinctively winced as you felt the dripping brush dabble white paint onto your back.
Quinn leaned forward to watch, morbidly curious. “What are you doing, Natasha?”
Natasha winked at Quinn. “Ever wonder who designed that cute little logo that Sanderson Beach uses? It was yours truly!” She beamed brightly. “I’m just sketching it onto these bikini bottoms real quick. The white color will pop out, and the fabric paint will fuse to the bottoms, preventing it from scratching or fading. It’ll also be waterproof!”
Quinn frowned at hearing the phrase ‘fuse to’, and your own heart plummeted with despair. Still, both you and she were powerless in this situation, and could only let Natasha do her work. Brigitte looked on proudly as Natasha painted the Sanderson Beach logo onto your back: a cute picture of a sandy beach, volleyball net, and bright sun.
Finished drawing, Natasha gently blew on you to dry the paint, along with another go with the blow-dryer. She then turned to Quinn, retrieved a tape measure from her bag, and noted the measurements of Quinn’s prodigious posterior, hips, and thighs for good measure. With all her notes in place, it was time for the final excruciating step.
Picking you up, Natasha tentatively pulled at your malleable body, a huge smile spreading on her face. “Oh, this material is just the BEST for clothing!” She gushed, apparently already forgetting you were a living person at this point, too caught up in the excitement of her craft.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Natasha worked at a feverish pace, not letting up for an instant. She pushed, pulled, stretched, squished, and molded your tiny body into the world’s most perfect bikini bottoms. Your arms and legs served as the loops for Quinn’s legs to go through, your face made up the inside back of the bottoms, and your lower half the inside front. Natasha sealed the deal with a thin but extra-durable layer of waterproof superglue to seal your limbs in place, completing the job.
Exhausted, Natasha sat back and handed you to Brigitte. Brigitte eyed you excitedly, immensely proud at the work of her girlfriend. Satisfied beyond any doubt, Brigitte tossed you to Quinn, who caught you gently. Your black-haired partner spared you a sympathetic look, but you barely noticed. The fabric dye and mushing and mashing from Natasha had really mangled your face, causing your vision to be blurry.
Brigitte cleared her throat. “So, normally, you’d wear the standard one-piece uniform. However, until we get your replacement, use those bottoms every day, and just wear a Sanderson Beach lifeguard t-shirt over whatever top you want. Sound good?”
Quinn nodded numbly. “Um…sounds great, ma’am.”
“Awesome! Then go get changed and head out, we’re behind schedule! Don’t worry, I won’t dock you pay for this.” Brigitte laughed, then turned to flirting with Natasha. Apparently, the conversation was over. Knowing she was dismissed, Quinn left the office and headed towards the changing room, you in tow.
Both you and Quinn were not at all looking forward to this day…or the foreseeable future.
“So, I’m going to have to delay you for a few more minutes, Quinn.” Brigitte explained. Quinn, who could barely stop from wincing at your treatment, slowly pried her gaze away from you and towards her boss.
“Uh…what do you mean?” She asked, fighting hard to slip back into her normal apathetic attitude. She hated what was happening to you, but couldn’t think of any way to change it. Brigitte’s points made perfect sense, and the law was the law, as much as Quinn despised it. Your black-haired roommate was also a bit afraid (though she’d never admit it) of disappointing her boss by maintaining a combative or sulky demeanor.
Brigitte rummaged around on her desk and retrieved her phone, then began typing the number pad before replying to Quinn. “Basically, I’m shit at anything related to design. If I tried to make Hunter into your replacement bikini bottoms myself, it’d be a mess.” Brigitte laughed heartily. “Thankfully, Natasha is much more skilled than I am, so let me call her real quick and she’ll drive over.”
Quinn nodded. “Ah, okay.” It took her a second, but Quinn recalled Brigitte mentioning before that she lived with her girlfriend, Natasha, in a spacious apartment not far from the beach. Natasha was, if Quinn was remembering correctly, a part-time fashion designer. After a moment of ringing, Natasha picked up, though Quinn could only hear Brigitte’s side of the conversation.
Brigitte lit up excitedly, presumably from hearing her girlfriend’s voice. “Ah, Natasha! Still at home?” A pause. “Uh huh, I need your help in the office. Little bit of styling and designing. Got a Usage License tiny for ya to mold into bikini bottoms!” Another pause. “Yes, babe, I know, you feel kinda weird about it, but you’re so damn good, baby.” One more pause. “Yes, paperwork’s all taken care off. It’ll be easy, and I’ll buy dinner tonight to make it up to you. Love ya!”
Brigitte hung up, then laid your pancaked body down on her desk. She then casually dropped a heavy notebook atop you, pressing you down hard onto her desk and ensuring you were unable to reform in the time that passed before Natasha arrived. The redhead giantess then leaned back in her chair and drummed her fingers on her desk. Quinn fought to keep her face neutral.
“So, I’ve got a few ideas for reorganizing volleyball competitions after the west nets broke…” Brigitte began, engaging your roommate in conversation. Able to slip into more normal work patterns, Quinn tried her best to ignore you and conversed rather pleasantly with Brigitte for the next fifteen minutes, passing the time amicably while you fought uselessly to wiggle out from under Brigitte’s notebook.
Eventually, Natasha arrived, and she swept into the room with a grin on her face, a skip in her step, and about a million art and design supply bags under her arms. Dropping the bags in an empty chair, Natasha giggled as she was swept up into Brigitte’s arms and kissed passionately.
Quinn was momentarily taken aback by Natasha. She vaguely noted that Natasha was African American, with curly brown hair that framed her face, and that she was exceptionally pretty. What threw her off was that Natasha was no more than 5’2”. Her short height was almost comedic in comparison to Brigitte’s towering form, and as it was, the muscular redhead easily lifted her girlfriend and spun her around.
Setting Natasha back down, Brigitte composed herself and then removed the notebook from atop your body. Gesturing to you, Brigitte retook her seat. Sobering up, Natasha approached the desk and gently scooped you up into her hands. Her delicate, artist’s hands rubbed and massaged your body, poking and prodding at you. Natasha bit her lip gently.
“Well, he’ll definitely work just fine. Soft and stretchy enough to fit even Quinn.” Natasha explained, causing Quinn to briefly blush at the offhand reference to her curvaceousness. Natasha didn’t seem to notice, though, and in fact went straight to using her sharp fingernails to tear your clothes off, leaving you totally nude in her hands. “He’ll need to be naked for the dye to work.”
Quinn furrowed her brow. “Dye? What’s that for?”
Natasha pulled a few bottles from her bag, as well as a medium-sized bowl. “Fabric dye is needed to dye…uh…this tiny dude…the same red color as all of our lifeguard uniforms.” Natasha glanced at her girlfriend. “Though it should be noted that the dye can permanently affect the tiny’s skin tone. Only the solvent liquid will restore his skin tone to normal. You DO have some in stock, right?”
Brigitte nodded vaguely. “Uh, definitely. I saw a few bottles in the storage room…last month or something.” She trailed off, and neither Quinn nor Natasha heard her last comment.
“Good enough for me.” Natasha smiled, before dumping a red bottle of fabric dye into her bowl. She mixed in a few other liquids, and then finally submerged your body into the bowl. You mentally screamed out as the cool liquid soaked and sloshed all around you, covering you entirely. Crumpled up as you were, you couldn’t do a thing to fight Natasha, and soon you were fully drowned in the bowl.
The giantesses left you to stew in the bowl for ten minutes, Quinn sparing you a glance every so often, but finally Natasha retrieved you. When she did so, you caught a brief glimpse of yourself in the reflection of a mirror on the wall, and found to your utter horror that your body was entirely dyed bright red. Every inch of your skin tone had been changed to a bright red color, with not a trace of your normal tan shade remaining.
“Ah, perfect!” Natasha grinned. She hastily plugged in a small blow-dryer into the wall and dried off the remnants of the dye from your body. She then laid you out onto Brigitte’s desk and grabbed some white fabric paint and a brush from her bag. She’d laid you onto the desk face first, so you couldn’t tell what was coming next, but you instinctively winced as you felt the dripping brush dabble white paint onto your back.
Quinn leaned forward to watch, morbidly curious. “What are you doing, Natasha?”
Natasha winked at Quinn. “Ever wonder who designed that cute little logo that Sanderson Beach uses? It was yours truly!” She beamed brightly. “I’m just sketching it onto these bikini bottoms real quick. The white color will pop out, and the fabric paint will fuse to the bottoms, preventing it from scratching or fading. It’ll also be waterproof!”
Quinn frowned at hearing the phrase ‘fuse to’, and your own heart plummeted with despair. Still, both you and she were powerless in this situation, and could only let Natasha do her work. Brigitte looked on proudly as Natasha painted the Sanderson Beach logo onto your back: a cute picture of a sandy beach, volleyball net, and bright sun.
Finished drawing, Natasha gently blew on you to dry the paint, along with another go with the blow-dryer. She then turned to Quinn, retrieved a tape measure from her bag, and noted the measurements of Quinn’s prodigious posterior, hips, and thighs for good measure. With all her notes in place, it was time for the final excruciating step.
Picking you up, Natasha tentatively pulled at your malleable body, a huge smile spreading on her face. “Oh, this material is just the BEST for clothing!” She gushed, apparently already forgetting you were a living person at this point, too caught up in the excitement of her craft.
Over the next fifteen minutes, Natasha worked at a feverish pace, not letting up for an instant. She pushed, pulled, stretched, squished, and molded your tiny body into the world’s most perfect bikini bottoms. Your arms and legs served as the loops for Quinn’s legs to go through, your face made up the inside back of the bottoms, and your lower half the inside front. Natasha sealed the deal with a thin but extra-durable layer of waterproof superglue to seal your limbs in place, completing the job.
Exhausted, Natasha sat back and handed you to Brigitte. Brigitte eyed you excitedly, immensely proud at the work of her girlfriend. Satisfied beyond any doubt, Brigitte tossed you to Quinn, who caught you gently. Your black-haired partner spared you a sympathetic look, but you barely noticed. The fabric dye and mushing and mashing from Natasha had really mangled your face, causing your vision to be blurry.
Brigitte cleared her throat. “So, normally, you’d wear the standard one-piece uniform. However, until we get your replacement, use those bottoms every day, and just wear a Sanderson Beach lifeguard t-shirt over whatever top you want. Sound good?”
Quinn nodded numbly. “Um…sounds great, ma’am.”
“Awesome! Then go get changed and head out, we’re behind schedule! Don’t worry, I won’t dock you pay for this.” Brigitte laughed, then turned to flirting with Natasha. Apparently, the conversation was over. Knowing she was dismissed, Quinn left the office and headed towards the changing room, you in tow.
Both you and Quinn were not at all looking forward to this day…or the foreseeable future.
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April 23, 2025
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