Gromet's PlazaGiantess Stories

Jane's Toy

by Carnaj

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© Copyright 2011 - Carnaj - Used by permission

Storycodes: F+/m; shrunk; tests; torment; tease; hum; gift; display; bond; bdsm; nc; XX


Jane woke slowly...

It was warm in her bedroom, luxurious and comforting.  She simply laid there, coming awake and letting her eyes focus on her surroundings; the rich, dark paneling of her walls, the expensive prints and pastels framed for her pleasure, the old, sturdy furniture of the dresser and vanity, the wardrobe that she loved so much.

She could smell coffee percolating in the kitchen, barely, over the smells of bacon and eggs.  Jane smiled, glad that Cook was single, with no family near.  Her mouth watered, anticipating breakfast.

It was some time later before the Goddess, Jane, made an effort to get out of bed.  She threw back her comforter and swung her long legs to the floor, gasping at the sudden chill in the hardwood.  She felt about for her slippers, wishing that her footslave was there for her pleasure and comfort, but he was in the kennels this morning, being punished.

Ah well.  She would just have to fend for herself for a bit.

Jane slid her feet into her waiting scruffy pink slippers and stood.  She retrieved her robe from the bottom edge of the bed and slipped it over her long jersey that she wore as a nightgown, belting the tie loosely with a quick obi fold.  She stretched, reaching for the ceiling, moaning as her bones popped and her muscles strained.  Finally she sauntered off to the bathroom.

She took care of her morning needs, personal things and the more mundane until she felt refreshed and ready to face another day.  She left her bathroom, certain that one of her slaves would tidy up after her, and made her way towards the kitchen, following the delicious odors of breakfast beckoning.

She was passing through the living room when movement caught her eye.

She paused, staring at the stocking hung by the chimney with care.

She was long past believing in Santa Claus, but still every year she hung a stocking, a big one made of felt, bought in Duane Reade.  She knew that Armand or one of the other Handlers usually dropped some trinket into the stocking; a necklace, a gold ring, a tennis bracelet.  She held no illusions, but still she hung the stocking as it brought her pleasure and made her Handlers happy.  This year was no exception, but -

Jane gasped as the stocking jiggled and jerked.  her eyes went wide as she stared, waiting...

And again!

Her heart was hammering as she inched forward, wondering what they were up to- her Handlers.  If they had slipped a mouse into her stocking as some sick joke she would flay them all and dismiss them.  She could not believe...

"Help... "

She gasped again to hear the tiny, tinny voice.  she stared as the stocking churned.

"Help me!"

Jane stepped forward, licking her lips.  her eyes were wide with wonder as she eased closer to the stocking hung at the chimney,  tentatively she peered into the opening.  There was a card, which she plucked from the opening and read...


She read the card again and again, uncomprehending.  The stocking shivered and thrashed suddenly, and she dropped the card.  Jane eased forward, holding her breath as she peered inside again.  She gasped.

Her eyes went wide as she staggered back, biting her lip as she stared at the stocking.  She could not believe it.

It was impossible.

She crept forward again and looked in.

Tiny blue eyes looked up at her in fear, imploring.  Jane screwed her courage and reached inside the stocking.  She felt warmth, squirming flesh.  She wrapped her fingers about her prize and drew it out.

Jane stared in astonishment at the thing gripped in her hand.  She could feel it squirming- it was alive, but it was so tiny.  The poor little thing writhed, helpless in her grip.

It was a little man, maybe six inches tall and bound head to toe in red and green Christmas ribbons.  There was even a tiny ribbon tied about his tiny, engorged penis.  he was whimpering and crying she saw as she raised him up to her face.  He was beautiful.  Perfect...

"Let me go!" he shouted, wriggling in her fingers.  he was not strong enough to break her grip, but he did try.  Jane giggled, giddy with excitement.  She bit her lip as she pressed her thumb into the tiny man's chest, increasing the pressure until he stopped squirming.

She was getting hot feeling his movements in her hand.  She shifted his position so that he was lying in her palm and raised her free hand, her index finger scratching at his balls, his belly, flicking at his hard nipples.

He squirmed for her and she felt a chill shiver down her spine at his thrashing.  She felt her juices flowing, she was so hot.  She had a tiny little man for her pleasure, ready to do whatever she asked, whatever she demanded or desired.

Jane orgasmed just holding the little squirming thing in her hand...


I've bound your arms behind you at the wrists and elbows and bound your ankles and I have slipped you over the very top of my Christmas tree!  You are naked except for a red bow around your little dick and a Santa hat you are wearing.  The needles prick your back if you you are staying very still.   But I see your eyes following me around the room as I entertain my guests and staff and show them how I have honoured their precious little gift to me.

You are my squirmy little Christmas treetop ornament!


I moan, writhing in my bonds.

I squirm, the needles of your Christmas tree digging into my flesh, pricking me as I thrash about, seeking comfort that will not come.  I yell and scream to no avail, the sounds of Christmas Carole's echoing in the background as your staff and friends enjoy the party that you have provided.  The world is huge about me and I shiver as it passes me by.

Your guests look up, smiling as they enjoy your tree and the ornament that graces its top- me.  I see them sip their drinks, then move on, ignoring my torment as I squirm with my arms bound tightly behind my back, my legs tied, my tiny dick thrusting forward.  The Giant World passes me by, ignoring my pleas, as I am beneath notice.

But I see you watching...

You play the good hostess, but you look at me and lick your lips, anticipating what is to come.  You watch me intently as I writhe in my bonds; Christmas ribbons holding me in place and at your mercy.  You sip at your own drink and I see you smile...

I scream for help, but if anyone hears, they ignore me.

I glow red with humiliation, a shining star atop your tree.

The party continues as I squirm...


The night drags on.  The guests get louder as the spiced cider and hot toddies flow more freely.  Every gigantic face that passes near is smiling, laughing, enjoying the party.

My voice is rough and hoarse from screaming for help, the hours that I have been hanging here atop your tree.  My body remains scratched and sore from the needles digging into me, stabbing me as my arms and legs are drawn back and bound by Christmas ribbons of red and green.  My Santa hat dangles limply in my face while my dick stands rigid and wanting, betraying me.

Why won't anyone help me?

I see them, your guests, sipping their drinks as they pause, admiring the Christmas tree.  They see me, I know they do.  But they must think I'm a toy, some unique novelty doll that moves and cries and squirms for their pleasure.  They laugh and move on, all save one.

I see her again, staring at me.  Her eye sparkle behind the lenses of her thin-framed glasses, her long black hair wound into a tight bun.  She does not smile so much, as her thin lips shift in an 'O' of shock when she is not biting her lower lip.  I recognize her, and the memories come crashing back...

I remember we were six; six struggling students applying to be test subjects in a research group in the University's Science Lab for the extra money to help with tuition.

I remember the tests; physically strenuous and mentally challenging as they weeded us out, trying to find the best for their project.  We were tested until we were two.

I remember the Lab.  Being ordered to step into the phone booth sized glass cubicle by the loud, staticky voice coming over the room's speakers.  I remember the locks sealing the door, the air pressurizing as the lights grew to a garish, dazzling white.  The feeling of heat, that something had just kicked me in the balls.  I remember my body expelling its fluids...

I thought I had been moved to a larger room when my eyes flickered awake.  Glass walls towered overhead and a huge light blazed in the sky like a star.  I felt the air change as I tried to move, struggling to my feet even as I heard the echo of metal grinding against metal.

One huge wall fell away and I screamed, staring up and up at the shadowy, gargantuan figure that filled the huge doorway.  The woman stepped forward, sweeping into the booth that was now massive.  She seemed hundreds of feet tall, a huge building cloaked in white that I slowly realized was a lab coat swirling about her tree trunk legs.  She stared down at me- that face that I recognized, her lips curled in a barely concealed smile...

"It was you."

Your voice snaps me back to reality and I see the woman blush as she turns to find you right behind her.  You glance at me and smile, happily watching, enjoying my torment a bit before you turn your gaze upon the other woman.

"You did this," you say, nodding towards me, "gave me my new pet."

I saw the woman glance back at me one final time before she hung her head, nodding-

"Yes, Goddess."


I listen intently from high above, my perch atop your Christmas tree where I am helplessly bound while the young woman tells you her story.  Parts of her tale I know well, while other things are a blur, half-remembered nightmares that I tried to blot out of my memory...

Her name is Monique, and you obviously know her as she is a guest in your home.  Too, you seem to know that she works for the university in town, a Graduate student in the Science Department, to which you donate apparently.  If she knows you beyond that, I can't comprehend.  She called you Goddess, though why, I don't know.  Obviously you are a Goddess to me, now in my shrunken state.

She explains about the research they were doing on something called the FAZE Unit; the glass cubicle that I recalled, and how it was designed to reduce things in mass.  She got technical for a bit in her explanation, explaining how the test subject's body fluids were extracted- basically 'steamed' away, and in the process the subject lost mass, and stature apparently.  She laughed at that.  "An unexpected side effect," she said, and you both laughed looking at me, making me blush in embarrassment and writhe about in a new, useless bid for freedom.  "We were trying to invent a 'weight loss' device."

You both laughed again, and I saw the woman pull something from her purse.  It was slim and silver with a small glass touch screen.  In fact, it looked like an I-Touch, but somehow I suspected it was something far more sinister.  The woman licked her lips as she stared at it a moment, then smiling, handed it to you.  You accepted of course, being the gracious Hostess, looking at it curiously, smiling in delight as you hit the power button and the screen started to glow.

"We call it the Fazer," the woman said with a shrug and a sheepish grin.  "Stupid, I know, but we're sci-fi geeks, what can I say.  It's basically a control pod that will affect anyone changed in the FAZE Unit."  The woman looked at me again, her eyes sparkling as I squirmed under her scrutiny.

"You can adjust his size," she said, her voice a hushed whisper, though whether because she was becoming excited or realized that she was in a room full of people, I don't know.  "Simply tap in the desired ratio and point it at him.  He's enveloped by a dose of radiation- harmless to everyone else- that will either add or subtract to the water in his chemical make-up."

"That's incredible," I hear you say, and your voice seems almost as breathless as the other woman's.  I watch as your thumb slides over the touch pad, your eyes sparkling in the glow as your smile widens, like a child on Christmas morning with a new, fascinating toy.  And just how far is that from the truth.

"It's a camera too, and you can download mp3 music from the Internet." Monique chuckles and hands you what appears to be various cords and an AC adapter.  "Rechargeable, but the battery life is short.  Four, maybe five 'zaps' and it needs about six hours to be recharged.

"A couple other things," Monique went on, her brow furrowing in thought for just a moment.  "Organics in contact seem to shrink with the subject; real leather, 100% cotton, pure silk, that sort of thing, but nothing blended.  No plastics or metal, or man-made, really.  No synthetics.

"And finally, the smaller he gets, the tougher he gets.  The subjects seem to gain a resiliency with their shrinkage.  Not invulnerable or anything like that.  No, more they become sort of rubbery, like Silly Putty if you remember that stuff.  Mash it up however you like and it eventually molds back into shape.  We've actually done some pretty nasty things to little 'c' there, and our other surviving test subject, 'e'."

"There's another like him?" you ask, sounding intrigued.

"Yeah," Monique replied, then, "Yes, Goddess."  I see you wave her off from formality, more interested in the story.  She continues: "Two survived.  Little c here, and e back at the Labs.  There'll be others soon, once we isolate why they survived and others didn't.  They're unique at the moment."

"And you're giving him to me?"  You sound a bit astonished, if not flattered.  I struggle again, futilely as you discuss me like I'm not even there, or worse, like I'm a thing, a toy to be passed around.  I hate it.

"It was decided, for your contributions and favors.  Not unanimously I should add.  The dissident is even now undergoing prep for his own test study."

You both laughed at that as Monique leaned in close, showing you various things about the handheld unit.  You walked away, head to head chatting until I could no longer hear what either of you were saying, and a feeling of impending doom washed over me.

I remembered the 'tests' as Monique had called them.  Hours of torture really; poking and pricking and prodding with needles and tweezers.  I lost track of the times that blood had been taken, and DNA from cotton swabs jammed into my mouth and up my ass.  I recalled be taped to a glass slide and slipped under a microscope as the 'doctors' examined me.  Eventually the tests became less clinical.

I remember flashes of pain and horror...

Taped to the floor while one of the Lab Assistants stepped on me repeatedly until they were satisfied that I could not be crushed at various sizes...

Dangling from a string wrapped about my wrists while one of the doctors held a flaming Zippo under me, watching and laughing while I danced and screamed, another taking notes...

There were electric shocks...

The frying pan...

One of the female scientists decided to test my ability to breathe in a degrading, though unique way and I spent a day trapped in her panties, half my bound body shoved up inside of her like a human, living dildo.  Apparently I had to breathe, because I passed out, but like 'Silly Putty' as Monique put it, I sprang back to shape and life eventually.

And then the tortures really started, as everyone seemed to have some new, innovative idea almost every day.  I was kept in a hamster cage at night, like a Lab Rat and fed vitamin pellets rather than food, at least at first.  They determined that I did not need much to eat after a time, but I did need water to replenish my body, so they hooked a drip bottle to the side of my cage that I was forced to suck on at regular intervals.

And then this morning I woke up bound and in your Christmas Stocking.  I have no idea how, and I suspect that I was put to sleep for transport.  Now I know the why.  I'm your gift, for services rendered, as tribute?  I don't know.

I watch you from my perch, from afar as you mingle.  You are beautiful, I admit, long legs and a gorgeous figure in your black dress and red sweater, your boots.  Your face shines when you smile, and you seem sincere.  I hope that you will help me, now that you have the means, but I somehow doubt it will be that easy.

Hell, I have no family to speak of, no real friends.  No one will come looking for me.  And worse, I signed my life away when I joined the Test Group.  I pounded the nails into my own coffin.

But I'm a man, dammit- a person despite my size.  I'm not a toy, or a pet, and I have to make you understand that.  I have to make you see...


I watched helplessly as the party at last started to wind down.  It had gone on for hours, seemingly forever to me as I hung helplessly, bound as I was to the tiptop of the woman's Christmas tree.  The guests all seemed happy, merry as they drank and ate holiday treats, singing and laughing, eventually exchanging gifts, either oblivious or uncaring that I was a captive in their midst.

Eventually though, the numbers began to dwindle as one by one, in couples or groups the guests made their way towards the door and the chilly night beyond.  I could feel the cold every time the front door was opened, and craning my neck I could see that a light snow was falling, the wide expanse of the Hostess' front grounds glistening with a thin, white sheen.

And the woman, my captress was apparently a dedicated hostess, as well as congenial.  I watched as she bid her farewells and holiday wishes to each parting guest sincerely, but too saw how she scrutinized each in turn, deciding if they were fit to leave.  On two occasions she called upon one of her staff (I assumed), prim and proper young men dressed in holiday attire to see her guests safely to their door.  She cared- for her friends at least- and that gave me a spark of hope that my nightmare might soon be over.

Finally she closed and locked the front doors, the last of the partygoers on their way.  I watched as she clicked off the lights to the foyer, then strolled back to the long table that had been set up with a wide variety of food and drink.  The range of my hearing apparently shrank along with my body, as- despite her size- I could not hear altogether what she said to the boy manning the table, already starting to clear the dishes away and clean up.  He smiled and nodded however, and poured her a rather large snifter of warm brandy before returning to his task.  There were two others as well, straightening things and clearing away dishes and glasses, discarded wrappings from exchanged gifts, wiping things down.  The woman said a few kind words in passing, judging from their reactions and pleased smiles, as she casually strode towards me.

I strained and struggled again as she stood at the tree's base, looking up at me.  She sipped at her brandy, one arm crossing under her breasts supporting the other, which held the snifter.  I could easily see that she was in perfect shape even beneath the thickness of her winter sweater and skirt.  She seemed huge of course, gigantic, and from my perch everything seemed amplified; her round bosom, the way her hip jutted slightly in regal pose, her long, shapely legs stretching far away to the floor far below me.

In my reduced state I felt that I was easily 200 feet above the floor, precariously tied to the swaying tip of the tree, which could be compared to a massive redwood.  The height was sickening, and I experienced a bit of vertigo if I looked wrong.  I had no fear of dying however, should I fall.  That was one of the tests, which I survived back at the Labs; being dropped from greater and greater heights once they determined that I was resilient in my compressed state of being.

The true fear came from the woman herself.  As beautiful as she was, it was terrifying to see something so huge moving about, gracefully and swiftly.  Her movements were natural, sights I had seen and dismissed every day of my old life, but now alien and almost surrealistic.  It was like living in a dream, or probably, more accurately a nightmare.

I continued to struggle, writhing in my bonds hoping that she might get the hint and free me, but when I looked at her she was simply watching and smiling and sipping at her drink.  I could see fascination as well as amusement in the wide dark pools of her eyes as she studied me.  Her gaze was intense and mesmerizing as well, and I could not hold eye contact for long lest I drown in the darkness.  Finally I had to clamp my eyes shut and turn away, sagging in my bonds, wincing as the stiff needles of the tree dug into my flesh again.  I still felt pain, still became winded and weak, and oddly still became aroused I noticed, as my penis was waving again at attention.

She noticed as well, apparently as I heard her chuckle; at my size a soft rumbling of distant thunder.  "You're so cute," she finally spoke, her voice rich and booming all at once.  "My guests loved you, and the little show you put on for them."  I noticed the way that she emphasized the word 'little'.  "A couple of my friends wanted to know where they could get one of you.  Even offered to buy you from me, and at no small price either."

I looked at her again.  A wicked grin curled the edges of her huge, full lips as she considered me.  It was like looking at a face on a movie screen, all-encompassing with her darkly blond hair framing her wide, perfect features.  I shivered as those lips parted again- "I told them no sale.  You're my little one."

My eyes went wide and I started thrashing about again as I saw her hand rising towards me.  Her long fingers were splayed wide, her nails scarlet and shining like shields as she gingerly reached for me.  I could immediately feel the warmth of her body as her fingers closed about my own.  Her thumb pressed gently into my right side from hip to ribs, as her index finger did on the left.  She squeezed just enough, and I sensed her rise up on her toes as she started to raise my body up and off of the treetop.  I whined as the needles scratched again, raking my back and ass.  If the woman noticed or cared, she did not pause.

There was a brief moment of weightlessness as I swooped through the air, lowered in her grip.  My backside was burning as I squirmed in her fingers, and there were tears in my eyes despite my best efforts not to cry.  Her image was blurry as I opened my eyes again, but I could see her huge lips pursed and red right before me as she purred -

"Shhh..." she said quietly, even as she casually flipped me over so that I was laying in the soft, plush palm of her hand.  There was little that I could do to help myself with my arms and elbows still bound tightly behind me with Christmas ribbons, likewise my ankles.  I tried to roll onto my side to ease the pain in my back and ass, but she easily flipped my body back, the better to look at me.

"Shhh, little one," she purred again, softly thank god.  Her face hovered right over me now, and I knew that if she shouted she might pop my eardrums.  I had no idea if that would heal- a test the women at the Science Lab had not thought to try.  "I won't hurt you."

But even as she tried to reassure me she casually slipped her index finger over my chest, pinning my tiny squirming body to her palm.  I tried to twist and turn, but my strongest struggles were useless and I did not move a relative inch.  That did not stop me, however.  I had to be free.  I had to make her understand that I was a man, not a toy!

I heard her giggle as her thumb then passed above me, the soft skin of the pad barely brushing the tip of my erection.  My eyes went wide as I gasped, the pain receding in my mind as a new sensation washed over me.  I stared in terror as she smiled widely, almost leering it seemed as she brushed her thumb back again.

"Nooo... " I whined, not wanting to be so abused, trying hard to fight the strange urges that I could feel building within me.  I remembered the same sensations back at the Labs.  Some of the 'tests' that they ran were little more than torture straight out of the Spanish Inquisition I was sure.  But others were designed to stimulate me, as along with blood and urine samples, they demanded sperm samples (more than any other it seemed).  I often wondered if they simply enjoyed torturing me, or if maybe some queer side effect of the shrinkage made me give off some weird pheromone or something that brought out the cruelty in certain women.

Looking at the beautiful woman that held my life in her hands- literally- I was starting to believe it were true.  Her dark eyes were sparkling in delight, her full lips glistening as her huge tongue snaked out, wetting them in anticipation.  I thought for a moment that she was going to eat me, but right then her thumb flicked my engorged cock again and I exploded then and there.

She laughed in unbridled joy as I bucked and thrust with my orgasm.  Her breath was warm and sweet, laced with a tinge of alcohol as it gushed over me and that simply excited my body all the more.  She eased her grip as my semen spurted long and high like a geyser, actually splattering her lips, which in my condition was like hitting the broad side of a barn.  I moaned and gasped as it went on and on...

Until finally I collapsed back into her palm.  I was panting and weak, and sweating both from my exertions as well as the heat that her hand was radiating.  I felt damp and sticky, as most of my sperm had splashed back down, coating me on my belly and groin, spattering my chest and legs as well as her fingers I saw.  And she simply licked her lips and smiled, giddy with the scene.  I had to get away...

"Please... " I gasped, my tiny voice trembling.  Despite the captivating warmth of her body, I was starting to shiver.  I knew that my shrinking was related to the loss of body fluids, though I did not begin to understand the science of it.  Like a diabetic however, my body now needed to be replenished.  I needed water.  I hoped that Monique had explained that to the woman... Jane- I remembered her guests had called her Jane.

"Please," I repeated.  "Water... "

I saw her brows knit as she apparently remembered care taking instructions.  Suddenly then her massive fingers curled about me and the world raced past at a blurred, breakneck speed.

Then I was falling...

With a splash I hit water and my eyes snapped open as my body screamed in protest.  The water was freezing; icy cold with huge blocks of ice actually bobbing about with me.  I opened my mouth to scream before realizing that I was submerged and inhaled a lungful of water.

I broke surface a moment later, hacking and sputtering, trying to draw breath.  I was shaking uncontrollably, my teeth chattering madly like castanets.  I could not breathe, and bound as I was it was all that I could do to keep myself afloat.

And somewhere above me, the Giantess laughed...


Kicking madly with my bound legs, trying to stay afloat as I gasped and choked, spitting water I felt something scratch along my back.  It took me a moment in my panic to realize that the Giantess had hooked a finger nail under the bindings of my tied elbows and with no effort at all, lifted my tiny frame from the... punch bowl.  I sputtered, kicking as she easily moved me, depositing my soaking, shivering form onto the buffet table with no grace.  I hit hard, gasping for breath and wiggling like a worm.

I felt the table shift slightly as I saw her huge hands suddenly resting on either side of me, her palms flat on the table.  I looked up and saw her face hovering far above, huge and smiling, her dark eyes taking me in, her face framed by the cascades of her shoulder length blond hair.

"Poor baby," she cooed, clucking her tongue.  "Too cold for you?"

She chuckled and I could feel the warmth of her breath roiling over me.  I hacked and spat, trying to regain what little composure I could.  I had to make her understand that I was a man; a Human Being, and she could not treat me this way.

"Let me go," I rasped, my voice hoarse and catching.  "Please-- Make- make me big again."

She just laughed her giantess laughed and stood upright again, placing her hands on her hips.  "Oh I might," she mused as she looked down on me, a sodden, shivering mass on her table, "in a few years, when I get tired of you."

I screamed as her hand suddenly swooped down like some great bird of prey, her sharp red nails flashing in the light as she scooped me up into the folds of her fingers.  My head swirled as the world moved.  I could not see from her grasp, but I could feel the speed and force as she casually strolled to some other part of her home.  My stomach churned with the motion, and I felt the bile rise in my throat.

And suddenly I was flying...

The experience was short lived as I bounced across the top of a vast, white field.  It was soft, and not unlike a barren land, but fibrous and man made, I could tell.  I bounced and finally rolled to a stop.  breathing hard still- again, I scrambled about, trying to get my bearings.

The field stretched on for yards (in my perspective), dropping away at three of the edges, the fourth rising to hills against a high dark wall.  It took me awhile to realize that the Giantess had deposited me atop her bed, her white bedspread and the dark, stained headboard in the distance.  I squirmed, struggling to get to my knees.

I could see her moving about in the distance.  She was to me like a building come to life, a mountain shifting on the horizon far away.  I stared in awe, trying to quell my panic and calm my senses, watching intently as to what she was about.  She seemed to be moving casually, but with purpose, gracefully flowing through the edge of my sight and sanity.  I could hear the thunderous booming of her heels, and even louder, explosions of noise that sounded like cannons, and only later realized must have been the slamming of drawers in her gigantic dresser.  At one point I saw the sky fold and part, and decided that she had stepped into a massive closet...

My mind was reeling as I tried to take in the new sensations.  My world had become gargantuan, and everything that I saw seemed new and strange.  I had to get away, I knew, but the damnable ribbons that bound me held me fast.  And even if I freed myself from my bondage, what then?  I was atop the bed of the Giantess, trapped on what may as well have been a plateau with no way to the floor.  Oh, I could jump.  I knew I would survive, but most likely I would break some bones and lie there helplessly, waiting for the Giantess Jane to gather me up again.  I was trapped, at least for the time being...

My world shifted, and I was suddenly tumbling again.  I screamed, finally rolling to a stop against the back of the giantess' ass.  It took me a moment to realize just what was happening.  She looked different, and then I realized that she had changed clothes.  She was getting dressed for bed.  The black sweater and red dress had been replaced with a long, pink shirt, and she was doing more; I could feel her shifting, her movements.

Finally she sat straight, placed a hand behind her (which set me rolling again), and turned, looking down at me.

"You like my ass, little man?" she laughed, and I saw her hand swooping in again.  Her huge fingers spread wide, then enclosed, gripping me between her thumb and forefinger by my bound legs.  She raised me up to dangle before her face.

"I want you, my little toy," she purred, smiling as she jiggled me, laughing as I writhed and bobbed in her loose grip.  "But it's late, and I'm tired..." and as if on cue the giantess yawned and stretched and I was suddenly dangling high and far above the floor.

"Now, what to do with you?" she mused, dropping me into her left palm as she scratched at me with the huge nail of her right index finger.  She giggled as she flicked my hard nipples, then easily spread my thighs to get at my balls.  She hummed some giant tune as she toyed with me.

"Mmmmnnn..." she said.  "Stop teasing me.  I need to get some sleep."

Her hand wrapped about me then, tightly for a moment, and then just as suddenly I was falling...

Or sliding, rather.  I felt the smooth burn of friction as I swept down a finely woven gray netting, finally coming up short and abrupt in a clouded darkness.  It was strange, and struggle as I might I could not get any balance.  It was as though I was in a huge bag, or maybe a fisherman's net would be a better comparison as I could see out through the fine weave, though my sight was limited.

The Giantess held me up to her face, staring at me, jiggling my new prison.  I could smell lilac and worn leather, a musty smell, and I realized just where I was.  She had put me in her nylon!

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" she said as she poked her finger in, stretching the material until her nail flicked at my enraged penis.  I hated this!  I hated myself that she was exciting me with her abuse and humiliation.  I hated that she laughed at me.

"Stop it!" I cried, struggling to turn away from her probing finger.  She just laughed all the harder.

"So cute..."

The world suddenly fell away as she stood, then stepped up on her bed.  there was some confusion, bobbing and dangling before she finally released her grip on the nylon, giving it a playful swing as she stepped back down from the bed.  My world spun, swaying to and fro.  She had pinned the nylon into the ceiling, on a string so that it dangled right above the pillows on her bed.

Giantess Jane lay back on her bed, staring up at me, smiling.

"What a sight to fall asleep to: my own little man..."

She reached up and flicked me, sending me bobbing and swirling in my nylon prison, twirling in the darkness after she turned off the light.  She jabbed at me for awhile, before she finally fell asleep, a contented smile playing on her huge lips.

Soon after, exhausted, I followed suit...




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