[Original author: Power and Lust from Writing.com]
“Hey look, your leash is in stock at a store downtown” Adam chuckled. “We can get it right now. Who wants to go for a walk? Hmm?”
“I do,” Mo squeaked apprehensively.
The walk to the store was painfully humiliating. Now that she had graduated to doggy foot bitch, Mo was big enough to be taken for walks outside. This was the first time she had been outside the apartment in weeks, and she froze with terror at the sight of the surreal cavernous hallways of her apartment building. Adam scolded her for dawdling by kicking her with the toe of his boot, and she quickly fell in line.
He walked slowly down the hallway, and she scurried after him, kissing at the trampled carpet in his wake and heeling at his imposing boot heels. It was slow going but Adam was in no hurry. Gigantic neighbors passed by bemusedly, as Adam greeted them and made small talk. He was on friendly terms with the other tenants, and why not? He was a likable and sexy guy. On the other hand stuck-up Monica had usually ignored them, and now they glared down at her with scorn or amusement. Well-trained Mo simply pressed her face into the dirty boot tread and tried to ignore the big people talking above. She blushed and whimpered like a doggy foot bitch.
Adam took delight in watching Mo struggle with the staircase, but after a few steps he got bored and finally snatched her up, shoving her in his shorts pocket. She was too big to fit without folding up like a pretzel, contorting in half as she fell into the deep dark pouch. She tumbled and twisted against Adam’s muscular thighs and virile junk as he walked. Sometimes he would put his hands in his pockets, casually readjusting her against his pendulous balls, or shoving his thumb over her face. The soft fabric smelled strongly like her laundry drawer bedroom, and Monica was disgusted to feel a sense of comfort to be so close in her owner’s presence. The outside world was huge and scary, but she was safe in here. She lulled into a daze as she bounced along…
She was shaken back to reality as Adam’s hand groped her and dropped her roughly on the cold pavement. “Wake up, doggy, we’re here.”
The shop was small, dimly lit, unassuming, clearly a niche establishment for discriminating clientele. Filled with eclectic curiosities that excited Adam and horrified Mo. Her head stayed close to the ground as she groveled and simpered beneath Adam’s boots, but she stole glances upward to take in her surroundings.
Of course the leashes and harnesses that she had expected, some more revealing and degrading than others. Specialized tools such as nail clippers and hair trimmers that miniaturized women could wield like hedge trimmers and scythes. Shoe insoles with girl-shaped inserts to be forgotten underfoot. Trinkets of all shapes and sizes to objectify and accessorize the fembugs who were once full-sized people. In a corner of the store a thick red curtain suggested a backroom catering to yet more debauched tastes. Monica eyed a row of chrome cages, arranged in order of size. The smallest was nearly invisible even from her diminished vantage point, nothing but a dot on her fingertip. Her head swam at the thought of becoming so microscopically insignificant.
Uncanny mannequins and live showroom girls showcased some of the products. A half-sized brunette in a skimpy maid’s uniform minced by, obsequiously offering Adam a shoe shine. In one display case, an inch-high redhead was splayed spread-eagle across the dial of a modified watchband, limbs affixed by dabs of adhesive. Her eyes were wild with desperation or ecstasy. At her tiny size it was hard to tell which; maybe it didn’t matter.
Another patron, obviously a repeat customer, browsed a rack of toga costumes for slave girls. He was older than Adam, with thinning hair and greasy smile. Monica’s skin crawled as he leered down at her. She cowered behind Adam’s calf, grateful to be owned by a sexy master deserving of her worship. Then she cursed for allowing herself to think in this way.
The shop owner was cut more from the same cloth as Adam, tall and athletic, dressed a bit more smartly but obviously an alpha bro at heart. No doubt a member of the nouveau riche caretaker class who had profited handsomely from the recent rebalancing of the sexes. He and Adam talked and laughed overhead.
“So yeah, she just started growing again, is this harness going to fit for long?”
“Well, first of all it doesn’t matter too much if it starts to get tight, it’s good to choke them a little.” Mocking laughter. “But if you’re really worried about it, we’ve got some Shrinktech options to keep her size under control.
Adam arched an eyebrow. “Shrinktech? I thought that was government sci-fi bullshit.”
More laughter. “Nah, it’s not like those rayguns you see on TV. It’s like a bioengineered variant of the virus. Lets you control their size and even makes ‘em more docile. The technology was just made available to the general public. Here, I just got a shipment in last week…”
The shopkeeper digs behind a counter and withdraws a thick black collar, with mean-looking hypodermic prongs protruding inward. “Top of the line. The leather and polymers are treated to change size with the wearer. Pairs with an app on your phone for convenient remote control. There’s an electroshock function for punishment or conditioning. Even a locator if she gets lost in your fucking shoe or something.” Uproarious laughter.
Adam cast a predatory glance down at Monica, who shuddered involuntarily. “You hear that bitch? No more worries about growing back to your stupid old life. You can be my doggy and my toejam and everything in between. Doesn’t that sound awesome?”
Monica choked. “I…I…”