title: The Shrinks aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [MrExilo] id: [27715629] date: 2023-09-14T22:51:04+08:00 modified: 2023-09-14T22:56:34+08:00

[TOC]

The Shrinks

Author: MrExilo Source: The Shrinks

For the umpteenth time, Josh rolled his eyes.

"I'm just saying, it's disgusting!" Remy went on. "Those little feet scampering about your apartment. Those little hands touching your food. How can you stand it?"

Josh gave a deep sigh. "Because the government is paying me four hundred dollars a month to put up a mouse that I never even see. She has her own little dollhouse in the living room that she, like, never leaves. I have to refill her water supply every morning, but other than that she may as well not even be there."

"It's wrong!" Remy said, crossing his arms across his chest like a stubborn toddler. "This whole Integration Movement, it's just wrong! Who knows what diseases they carry! And they have a thing for feet, you know? You're going to wake up one day, and that little rat is going to be sniffing your shoes and jacking off. I'm just glad Dad isn't alive to see you sell out."

Again, Josh rolled his eyes. "She's a mouse, her name is Gwen, and can girls even jack off? Wouldn't they jane off."

"It's just wrong!" Remy shouted.

Josh was relieved when the check finally came, delivered by a busty cow woman with a great ass and tits that were bigger than his head. If only she didn't have such a substantial belly that sagged out of her uniform. He put his share of the bill on the table, stood, and put on his jacket. "Same time next week?" he asked.

"Of course," Remy said with a minor shrug of his broad shoulders. Since they were young, Josh was the brains and Remy was the brawn. Even into adulthood, Josh worked as an accountant and Remy was a carpenter. Josh was tall and lank while Remy, not fat, was certainly burly. Josh's hair was black and his eyes hazel, Remy had blonde hair and blue eyes. It was difficult to believe they were brothers.

The air was cool and crisp as Josh stepped out of the diner he went to every Monday night, an enjoyable way to start the work week. It was a local place, small and humble. For almost twenty years, nothing in it had changed, but Josh took note of a small walkway that had recently been installed alongside the building. Emphasis was on small, as it was only about six inches wide, and roughly level with Josh's hips. A dozen or so micros of diverse types: rats, mice, shrews, some strange tailless thing Josh couldn't identify, were walking the path. One of the shrew children, spotting the staring human, gave an enthusiastic wave, only to be snatched into the arms of his mother, who hurried down the lane.

The walk back to his home was done with a leisurely gait. With tax season behind him, he was in no rush to get anywhere, but even with his lazy waltz he eventually found himself on the stoop of his apartment building. He took note of several micros riding the recently installed micro escalator, as they couldn't be expected to scale the mountainous steps. He did not see Gwen among them.

He rode the elevator with the pair of squirrels who lived down the hall with Ms. Benson. Pleasantries were not exchanged between either party. When they arrived at the third floor, the squirrels scampered out while Josh moved at a more leisurely pace down the hall. He fit his key into the lock, used his weight to push the door open, and stepped inside. He noticed a tiny towel resting in the center of the floor, one that belonged to Gwen no doubt. Shrugging, he plucked it up, crossed the room, and gave the dollhouse a careful tap with the toe of his shoe. "I'm home, Gwen," he said. "And I think you dropped something."

He waited, hands on his hips, until the front door opened and Gwen peeked her head out. He kneeled down and offered the towel, which was snatched up by mousy hands. She stepped more fully into the threshold of the doorway.

"Sorry, Mr. Dole," she squeaked.

"I didn't know you walk around when I'm not here," he said.

"Sorry, Mr. Dole. It's usually just after I take my evening shower. The house gets super steamy so I like to walk around the cooler living room, you know?"

"It's alright, Gwen, this is your apartment too. I'm going to hop in the shower myself," he said, turning around and starting to walk to the bathroom. "Do you need anything before I go?"

"No, Mr. Toles, and thank you. This place is so much bigger than my old apartment in the micro district," she said, referring to the dollhouse. "I mean, this place is like a mansion! And I have a front yard! I mean, it's your living room, but it's nice to look out and see everything. And like I said, sometimes when you're not home, I do walk around. I hope that's alright."

Josh shrugged. "Its fine Gwen. Anyway, I'll be in the shower."

Gwen watched as those mammoth shoes stomped off, crossing the living room that to her was like a savannah of broad, empty space. He disappeared around the corner, though Gwen could feel the Bump Bump Bump of his gargantuan frame as it moved about the apartment. She continued listening, even turning her large ears as if they were satellites to better catch the residual sounds. Only upon hearing the rush of water filling the ocean sized tub did she let out a sigh of relief for reasons she wasn't completely certain of. She closed the door, locked it (as if somehow that could keep a giant at bay) and moved across her living room, to the stairwell that took her to the second floor, and finally reached her bedroom. She plopped down onto the mattress, which was a little too squishy for her taste, but she wasn't about to return a gift from Josh.

"A gift," she muttered, rolling onto her side in a vain attempt at getting comfortable. Surrendering to the sinful squish, she pushed herself back up and hopped off. The mattress was obviously made by giants, for tinies. Why the giants thought the micros would want to sleep on a marshmallow, and why they thought a micro would want to be so high off the ground, and any number of other details that a macro would never think of but a tiny found inexcusable. "But it was a gift," she smiled, stroking the sheets.

She removed her bathrobe and hung it up so it would dry. She knew, soon, she would have to wash it as it was absolutely covered in clingy grey fur, and though she could just do it in the sink, she wondered about putting her clothing in with Josh's when he used the washing machine in the apartment building's basement.

"Would that be crossing a line?" she asked out loud. Shrugging her little shoulders, she weaved her head to the side and caught her reflection in the mirror.

For a micro, she was well built, even attractive. Short grey fur was complimented by billowing ebony locks of hair that spilled down to her shoulders. Her breasts weren't especially large, even by micro standards, but she still had a moment of fun squeezing and melding the orbs together or pulling them apart. And between her legs, the miniscule slit of her womanhood. She giggled, realizing her wormy tail had instinctively gone between her thighs and was presently concealing her genitals as if she needed to show modesty to the mirror. Easing her tail down she allowed it to wait limp behind her as she stroked her hands up her curves.

Back in her bed, nude, she teased a finger over her nether lips. Closing her green eyes and setting her head back onto the pillow that was far too squishy for her liking, she drifted off to sleep, thinking about how handsome Josh was.

Like every morning, Josh woke to the sound of his alarm buzzing. Groaning to himself, he reached his hand out to punch the snooze, but as his fingers came down, he cut them against the edge of his side table. Grumbling, he pushed himself up to a seated position and looked upon the fresh gash on his palm. "Fuck," he muttered as the alarm continued to buzz. Using his other hand, he clicked it off and scooted off the bed. In the bathroom, he washed his hand with hot water and rubbing alcohol before applying a bandage.

In the kitchen, he put on a pot of coffee, but when he attempted to retrieve his favorite coffee cup from the top shelf, he found it a finger's length out of reach. Confused, but groggy and bothered by the pain in his hand, he simply dragged over a stool and used that to reach the mug.

He felt better as the hot coffee slipped past his lips and down his throat, giving him a warm feeling in the pit of his belly. He went about his morning routine: microwaving a hot pocket, finishing off his coffee, brushing his teeth, dressing in clothes that seemed oddly baggy, and, finally, filling the water reservoir that was mounted onto the side of Gwen's dollhouse.

"Thank you!" he heard squeaked, and looking down at the doorway he spotted the little mouse girl. At first, only her head was barely peeking around the threshold, but slowly, more and more of her little body came into his line of sight. She was wearing a purple cocktail dress that exposed the smallest hint of mousy cleavage and her long black hair was practically glowing in the lights that filtered out from inside the dollhouse.

Josh shrugged and left for work. In his sedan, he found it prudent to move the seat as far forward as it could. It was strange, to be sure, but his thoughts quickly turned to beating the traffic. Once at his office, his boss handed him an especially large file. With a sigh, he settled in his cubicle and got to work.

It was five o'clock at night when he finally emerged from the office building and sleepily drove back to his apartment. This time, when he opened the door and spotted Gwen, she didn't scamper away but, giving him a friendly nod, more casually went back to the dollhouse.

As he had the night before, he bathed, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed, quickly slipping into slumber.

Gwen didn't have an alarm, but a natural gift for waking up at the same time, every day. It was an odd quirk she had had since she was a little pinky. Sitting up and putting her arms over her head, she gave out a big yawn before scooting off the bed and onto the floor. She showered as she did every morning, brushed her teeth, and combed her long, ebony hair. The rumble of a giant's footsteps and the rush of water filling her little reservoir told her that Josh was up. She walked to the window and peeked out.

He was squatting to fill the reservoir, which meant his mammoth crotch was looming directly above her. She let out a little squeak, but quickly wrapped her fingers around her snout to keep any more noises at bay. High above, Josh went about his duty, completely oblivious of the mouse girl's fixated gaze upon the slight lump of his hefty testicles and the log of his cock that pressed directly against the hem of jeans she had never seen him wear before. Tracing her vision along his inner thigh and down his shin, she finally spotted his feet. He was wearing sandals, again something she had never seen before, which meant his humongous toes were staring right back at her.

He grunted as he stood. Gwen scampered back, deeper into the dollhouse, finally crashing upon her bed and hiding beneath the covers in a truly absurd attempt at protection.

Outside the dollhouse, Josh put the measuring cup in the sink's drying rack, instead of climbing back up the stool he had used to reach the top shelf. Retrieving his cellphone from its charger, he called Remy.

"So help me, meathead," he said, stomping about the apartment to get himself worked up. "I don't know how you keep getting in here, but cut it the fuck out or I am going to tell Mom. We are not fucking kids anymore. Do you know how fucking deep into my fucking closet I had to fucking go to find a pair of fucking pants that you didn't fucking tamper with? And how the fuck did you fuck with my shoes?! I'm wearing fucking flip flops! I called in sick, so thanks for that."

He stomped a sandaled foot down. Gwen, who had worked up the will to step out her front door, quickly scampered back inside, slammed the door shut, and only peeked out of the window.

With a deep sigh, Josh finished the tirade, "I'll see you on Monday, assuming I can find clothes that fit. Asshole."

Huffing and puffing, he walked to his couch, plopped down, and sipped his coffee.

Slower than the hour hand of a clock, Gwen crept out of the dollhouse. Across the room, she watched as Josh continued grumbling angrily to himself. Twice he reached for his phone, ready to sling another wave of insults at his brother, but both times he instead put it down without making a call.

"M-mr. Toles," Gwen asked, slowly, ever so slowly walking across the living room floor. "I-is something wrong?"

"My fucking brother," Josh practically spat. "He keeps coming in here and swapping all my stuff around. He keeps replacing my clothes with bigger sizes, moving all my utensils just slightly out of reach. Fucking bastard. Fucking carpenter."

Though she was utterly petrified of the angry giant, Gwen felt drawn to him. Last night he had bathed, and his skin still smelled of the fancy soaps he used. She liked it and focused on the aroma to will herself forward.

"He did the same thing when we were kids, back during that Shrinks Outbreak. He said I would shrink down to nothing."

"Richard-Madison Syndrome," Gwen squeaked. Looking past his coffee, Josh glared at her.

"What?"

"Richard-Madison Syndrome," Gwen repeated as if that would somehow explain herself. When she realized it wouldn't, she added, "It's the real name of the Shrinks. Heh, you know a lot of people credit it with the Integration Movement. A bunch of biggies shrink smaller than a mouse? Kinda puts things in perspective."

"He is such a prick!" Josh shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. "Fuck it, I can't go to work looking like this," he said, gesturing to the extremely tight pants that hugged and kissed his narrow curves, as well as the sandals that showed off his handsome feet. He stood, and she watched as his mountainous body swept above her. He spent some time stomping about, letting out a long stream of curses and obscenities, but finally calmed down enough to turn to Gwen. "Since I'm not going to work, you want a lift to the diner?"

"Oh no!" she squeaked. "I-I couldn't impose!"

"It's fine. I could use some fresh air." He squatted, but Gwen managed to avoid fixating on his looming crotch, instead keeping her focus on his face. One of his hands came down and rested against the ground. At first confused, Gwen finally climbed up. Being lifted was like a rollercoaster ride. She ended up falling belly first onto the palm and clung to it, shivering from the speed of the lift. Either Josh didn't notice her duress, or didn't care. He simply opened his shirt pocket with a finger from his other hand and deposited the mouse girl inside.

It was warm, dark, and surprisingly roomy in the breast pocket, and the aroma of Josh's skin was so pleasant Gwen found herself huffing it. He smelled of sleep and a small bit of sweat, perhaps due to her proximity to his armpit. Through the fabric, she could hear as he moved about, grunting and grumbling still more profanity about his brother. Reaching up, she took hold of the rim of his pocket and hoisted herself up so her head was peeking out of the hot black. It was surreal, how fast Josh's walk was, as well as how high off the ground she found herself. From his pocket, she watched as he left the apartment building and walked to his car that was parked in the garage across the street. He drove an old, beat up jalopy, the model of which she hadn't the faintest clue. He got into the driver's seat, though she noticed his feet could barely reach the pedals, prompting him to attempt to scoot his chair still further forward. Realizing that it was as far up as it could go, he slammed his fists upon the steering wheel.

"How the fuck is he doing this?"

"Mr. Toles," Gwen said, pulling more of her body out of his pocket. "What if you do have Richard-Madison Syndrome?"

"I don't," Josh said sharply. "Remy is just fucking with me."

"But it starts slow, then starts building up stem, and eventually you're the size of a grain of salt."

"I don't have it."

"If you do, it just has to run its course. The real danger is things like loss of body heat and suffocation. So, if you do, we should get you to the hospital."

Josh climbed out of his car and left the garage. The morning air was cool and breezy against Gwen's face, especially with the speed of Josh's movement. Though it was pleasant, she much preferred the warm darkness of inside the pocket. Sighing, she settled back down and curled into a little ball, waiting for Josh to fish her out, she assumed when they reached the diner she worked at.

Scott's Place was one of the first establishments to embrace the Integration Movement. The shelving that had once displayed various trophies, pictures, and other knickknacks from owner Scott Carey's long, prosperous baseball career now had little micro sized tables. It was Scott's affliction with the Richard-Madison Syndrome that gained the dieses worldwide attention, and he became an outspoken supporter of micro rights after.

In that warm, dark, musky place that was Josh's pocket, Gwen had slipped into sleep despite the fact she wasn't especially tired. When his wormy finger invaded her sanctuary, she panicked and instinctively gave the digit a sharp bite. Josh grumbled at that. The finger left, only for two to come in. Gwen didn't resist this time, allowing her tail to be pinched and her lifted out.

"S-sorry," she whimpered, looking at the crimson that oozed out of the small nick on the tip of his finger. Josh didn't say anything. He simply dropped her onto the micro walkway and left.

On his way back to the apartment, Josh stopped in a convenience store and picked up a twelve-pack of beer. The rest of the day was spent on the couch, watching television and drinking, and trying not to think about the very real possibility he had been infected.

It was the following morning he woke up sprawled on the couch. He groaned to himself, sitting up, and taking note of the many empty cans that surrounded him. Nervously, he noted his feet weren't on the ground, but dangling several inches from it, and the pants that had been so tight yesterday were now at least one size too big. The shirt, yesterday a bit baggy, now hung on him like a circus tent. Pushing off the couch and to the ground, he attempted to walk, only to trip over the too long leggings of his pants. He landed flat on his face with a loud groan.

Like a panicking animal, he tore his way out of the clothing until, nude, he could rush into the bathroom.

Eye level with the counter of the sink, he could only guess he was a little over three feet, yet looking into the mirror, his proportions had remained perfectly normal. He imagined he would have a cherub's limbs or his legs would shrink far quicker than his arms, but no. Nothing about him was abnormal.

He was just small.

"Mr. Doles?" came a squeaky voice. Josh turned to see Gwen standing in the threshold, wearing a little pink bathrobe. Her green eyes were opened wide as she took in the sight of Josh, standing completely nude before her, his penis and testicles emerging from the black forest of pubic fur. She stared far longer than she should have, but finally lifted her hands in front of her eyes to avoid the temptation of continuing to gaze.

"Oh god, I have it!" Josh shouted. A feeling of dizzy overtook him. He tumbled into the wall, then slid all the way to the floor. His legs were pulled up to his chest and he buried his head between his knees, all the while repeating, "Oh god, oh god, oh god."

Even with his diminished dimensions, he was still mountainous to Gwen, who approached nervously. Having failed to shower the prior night, his smell was much more apparent, but far from appalling. The easiest part to reach was his left hip: a great wall of pale, furless flesh. No, not furless. So close, Gwen could see the little white hairs that sprouted up from the thick skin. She reached out a dainty hand and softly rubbed, both because she enjoyed and with the hope of getting the giant's attention.

"Mr. Dole," she said. "Joshua. There's nothing to worry about. You're gonna shrink, sure, but it won't be permanent, and now the doctors know how to keep you alive. You're going to be fine."

A huge (though smaller than it used to be) hand came down and gently plucked Gwen up under the arms. The mountainous body swept past her as he brought her up, bringing her roughly level with the middle of his chest. She noted his nipples were an odd shade of brown, sort of like little chocolate dollops on the canvas of ivory skin. Josh's eyes were puffy from tears and a string of snot oozed down from his nose.

"What if it doesn't? What if it doesn't reverse, or even stop? What if I shrink down until I'm nothing? It's just like Remy said, I'm just going to keep shrinking until I'm nothing!"

"It's going to be fine," she soothed, getting onto her knees and softly rubbing his palm, the only part of him she could hope to reach. The touch did seem to help. "First things first though, you have to call the Center for Size Manipulation. They'll send over a team to escort you to quarantine." She smiled, continuing to rub his palm. "I promise, everything is going to be OK."

The CSM was called. Josh managed to cut a pair of sweatpants until the legs wouldn't drag on the floor. They were held up with a pair of suspenders. He had no hope of any of his shirts fitting, but felt better to have something covering his groin. Then he had no choice but to wait. Climbing onto the couch took more effort than he liked to admit. Having already placed Gwen on the armrest, she was just the right height to reach out and gently stroke his arm.

"Everything is going to be OK," she kept saying. "I'll use your phone and call your brother and your mom and your work and explain what happened, that you're alright, that you'll be back to your old self soon. The CSM has covered hundreds, thousands of these cases. Everything is going to be OK."

The quarantine team, consisting of four burly men in hazmat suits, escorted Josh to a large van parked outside his apartment. He could not climb up under his own power, but was picked up by one of the men and placed in a booster seat that was meant for a large toddler. The drive was quiet, which made Josh nuts as he could do nothing but think about his condition.

"I think I'm shrinking now!" he said.

"You only shrink when you are asleep," one of the team said, though which one he wasn't sure as their collective faces were covered with reflective helmets.

"Why?"

The man directly in front of Josh must have been the one talking, for he shrugged his burly shoulders.

The CSM headquarters was located about fifteen minutes outside the city, at the end of a long, straight road that was flanked by many trees. A very large, triangular building with a shining glass façade and CSM in big, white, bold letters across the front. Josh was freed of his booster seat, but rather than allowed to walk, he was placed in a wheelchair and pushed. Still, his thoughts were only on the itch of his skin, the tingle in his bones, and the positivity that he was shrinking now, when awake.

"Seventy-nine centimeters," a tall, buxom doctor said. She did not wear the quarantine clothing, which meant she had already suffered through the shrinking. Once your body beat it, you were immune. She picked up a clipboard from a table beside the bed Josh had been laying on. "My, you are a small one. And you say you think it started Monday night?"

Gulping with worry, Josh gave a nod.

"My, I have never seen a case go this quickly. How much have you been sleeping?"

"The normal amount, about six hours, but yesterday I got drunk and slept for like half the day."

"Ah! That explains it. Sleep causes the shrinking. More sleep, more shrinking and at a faster rate. The good news though: the sooner you reach your smallest, the sooner you will start to grow." She scribbled something on her clipboard. "James will escort you to a room. I know you are stressed, Mr. Toles, but it is important you get plenty of rest."

The doctor, whose name he had not bothered to ask, left the room, leaving him alone with one of the burly men in a hazmat suit. He cocked his helmeted head, gesturing for Josh to follow, which he did without protest.

The Quarantine Wing of the CSM building was a single long hallway with fifty doorways on either wall that each lead to a cell, every cell approximately ten feet by ten feet to accommodate various sized beds, showers, televisions, sinks and toilets. His home for however long this horrible experience would last was #56. He stepped inside and the door closed. He didn't bother checking if he could open it from the inside, he had no desire to leave, and instead settled on the mattress that rested on the floor. He noted several other mattresses, all of assorted sizes and dimensions, and took special note of the smallest one. Walking over to it, he squatted and carefully picked it up. The word miniscule didn't seem sufficient to describe just how utterly tiny it was, far smaller than the bed he had bought for Gwen even. If he was at his normal size, it would be little more than a speck, but now it was only a matter of time before he would need it. He carefully placed the mattress back down and went back to the largest bed in the room, one that was roughly twice his height.

There was a television, but he didn't feel like watching it. Though he was not tired, boredom proved a useful sedative.

Saturday was Gwen's day off, so nice and early she rode the microrail to the CSM building. So many micros worked at the headquarters, tending to the patients and helping with the research, the micro monorail had been built out of necessity. Without any other stops, it could go top speed through the city and the forest, and yet the ride was smooth and comfortable. Gwen liked it, how fast the trees danced in and out of her sightline, how safe she felt in the well-fortified train, housed in a protective tube that repelled rain, snow, and any curious animals who hoped to snatch up the tiny treats.

A charter bus took her and the other micros who she assumed were doctors and researchers into the headquarters. She signed in at the front desk, explained who she was here to see, and agreed to be carried to the room rather than walk.

Resting in the paws of an anthro tabby whose name tag read "Butch," she was brought into the Quarantine Wing.

"Room #56," the cat said, kneeling down, then resting his hands flat so Gwen could more easily climb off. "When you would like to get out, just use the intercom by the door and someone will come by to pick you up."

He smiled, being mindful of showing his fangs, and pressed a button on the wall. The door swept into the ceiling. Gwen scampered inside and the door closed behind her.

Sitting on the second smallest bed of the room, and wrapped in so many blankets he looked more like a pile of laundry than a man, was Josh. Seeing Gwen, a hand emerged from the depths of the fabric cocoon and waved to her. "Hey."

"Are you alright?" she asked, crossing the room quickly. "Do you need me to get someone?"

"Yeah, the doctors say its normal. Something about my body losing heat faster than it can make it. Course, they don't want to crank the heat in here, cause I'll dehydrate too quickly. Never thought I would wish I had fur."

Gwen climbed into the bed and gently hugged around the little cocooned Josh. "If you want to feel some fur, I can come under there."

"Heh, actually, I'm nude. The clothes they gave me are so damn scratchy."

"I promise I won't look."

A hand emerged from the cocoon and gently stroked over the soft, grey fuzz on Gwen's arm. She was wearing a tank top and cut off shorts with the pockets dangling out, so there was plenty of fluff to touch.

"That feels so amazing," he muttered. He lay back and parted the blanket, allowing Gwen to quickly slip inside before it was sealed back up. Beneath that thick, smothering tarp, Gwen carefully removed her shirt, shorts, then her panties and tossed all out of their little nest. She climbed on top of Josh and lay as a second source so snuggly warmth.

Josh let out a flustered shudder. He moved the blanket further down so it rested just above her tail and wrapped his arms around her so he could stroke the sinful softness of her back. The melding of her breasts against his chest filtered heat to his very core.

"So how big are you now?" she asked.

"4.3 centimeters, whatever that means."

"1.7 inches," Gwen said, scooting a little closer. Josh couldn't deny that the feel of her soft, warm fur against his bare skin felt absolutely heavenly. "About the length of your middle finger, back when you were normal. I mean, you're still normal, but back before you started to shrink. I'm only 1.2 inches. You're still taller than me!"

"Doctors says my shrinking isn't done. I'm going to be a micro to a micro before this is all over. You could just pluck me up if you wanted to. Crush me between two fingers. Swallow me whole and they'd never find the body."

Her delicate fingers softly stroked through his hair. "I'd be gentle. I… I would keep you nice and warm and safe. I'd take care of whatever you needed. You've always been so kind to me, so nice to me. You've never threatened me or flaunted your size or made a joke about all the things you could do to me but wouldn't." She sighed, sniffing under his chin. It seemed he hadn't bathed recently, but with his sedentary lifestyle he didn't smell especially bad either. Sort of musky. "You've never treated me like a micro. You've only ever treated me like a person, and that's so rare." She sniffed again. "You're kind but not condescending. And… and I think you're really handsome, Joshua. But when you were so big, I admit I was a little afraid of you, but now… you're at such a wonderful size now, and I know you are scared, but I'm so happy to be here with you. And I hope you are happy to be here with me."

Only then did she realize he was asleep. "I've heard about this. It shrinks you when you sleep, and the shrinking tires you out, so you want to sleep more. Don't worry, Josh, everything is going to be OK."

She planted a delicate kiss under his chin before resting her head on his pectoral. She didn't intend to sleep, but wanted to keep him nice and snug and warm while he did.

For the first time in forever, Gwen didn't wake from her slumber naturally, but was roused by furious squirms, wiggles, and kicks directly beneath her. She yawned groggily, looking around, and remembering where she was she quickly pushed herself up to her hands and knees. She traced her eyes down the mattress, but where was Josh?

By the continued wiggles and squirms inside her cleavage, she realized, and plopped back to a seated position. The tiny body was fished out of the ocean of breasts.

Pinched by his ankle and dangling upside down, Josh, clearly relieved to be out from beneath the smother, sucked down breath after breath of fresh, clean air. He was drenched in not only sweat, but his belly was coated in sticky white slime that Gwen did her best not to think about. Rushing over to the micro sized (though not Josh-sized) sink, she turned on cool water at a gentle pressure. The tiny human was rinsed beneath the gentle stream to wash away the sweat and slime, as well as cool the body down in case he was overheating. She kneeled before the Josh-sized sink and put her hands flat on the ground. After still more deep breaths, Josh climbed off her hands and headed for it. He filled a glass with cold water and drank it down, filled it again and gulped it, filled it a third time and only then was his thirst satiated.

"I am so sorry," Gwen said, sitting back on her legs and feet. "It was just so nice, to share a bed with you like that, and we were even at the same size! I guess that didn't quite last though."

"Yeah, I woke up with a pair of fuzzy boulders on either side of me." After a deep breath, he added, "It was only when I started feeling light headed that I tried to wake you up. It was so warm in there. God, I haven't felt that good since I shrank past a foot." He began to rub his hands over his chest. "Jeez, I'm already freezing again."

"You poor thing," she said with a frown. Gwen offered her hands and Josh climbed up. He was lifted to her smiling face with the big green eyes and ebony hair that danced down her shoulders. She cupped her hands delicately and lifted him so he was gently pressed against the fuzz of her cheek. Instantly, he found himself in a world of soft heat. He did his best to hug her back: spread his arms wide and turn his head so they rested cheek to cheek.

Passenger safe and snug, Gwen casually walked back to the bed she had before been resting on and sat down with her legs crossed. "Do you want me to get the doctors?" she asked.

"Right now, I just want to warm up," Josh squeaked. "God, I am so tiny. The doctors said they might have to measure me in millimeters."

"I'm sure this is as small as you get," she whispered. She moved him away from her cheek and rested the fingers from her opposite hand alongside him. She decided he was closest in size to her middle finger, but why that should interest her she wasn't sure. When she noticed him starting to shiver, she returned him to the warmth of her facial fluff. "It's over now. Soon, you'll start to grow again." She giggled. "You know, I've been reading up on Richard-Madison Syndrome. There's a theory that, since it causes you to shrink when you sleep, the opposite must be true: if you get your heart pumping and your blood flowing, you'll grow."

"Trust me, Gwen, my heart is going a mile a minute and my blood is flowing just fine."

It was then she noticed the odd poking against her cheek. At first the thought it was a hand or a knee or a toe, but when she brought him away from her face, she saw it. Jutting out of the cute forest of pubic hair, his erection was absolutely throbbing. Trickles of pre were already oozing down the shaft, and as she touched her cheek with her free fingers, she found the smallest splotch of moisture.

Snapping out of his daze, Josh quickly covered his groin and sat up. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. It's just… oh god, oh god."

"It's OK," she said, green eyes quite wide.

"No, I'm just so sorry. Fuck, it's just been this whole fucking week of stress and god your fur is so soft and warm."

"It's really OK," she said, slowly moving the little man closer and closer to the vast curvature of her grinning lips.

"I'm just so sorry. Fuck, you must think I'm some kind of freak, getting off to something like that." He turned his head, just in time for his face to be met by the slightly moist lips of the puckering mouse. Their difference in size was so significant, he could feel his face pressing through the curve to reach the hot, steamy inside. He put his hands on whatever he could and pushed his way out, into the cool air.

A lick followed, her enormous tongue brushing over his body from toes to top and soaking him in drool. The moment it left, a chill the likes of which he had never felt overcame him. Despite his agonizing arousal, he put his arms to his chest and began to absolutely shudder, prompting an empathetic frown from the giant mouse.

"Oh, there there. I know someplace you can warm up."

The greedy tongue emerged from its home and reached out to greet him. Snakelike, it coiled around his legs, all the way up to the belly, and his crotch was caressed by the taste buds. With a subtle slurp, he was brought almost entirely into her mouth, only at the last moment managing to grab hold of the strands of fur that surrounded her lips. Her intention didn't seem to be to swallow him entirely, as both her hands came up and delicate fingers pinched his tiny hands.

"-et me now if is too harg," she slurred. He wondered what she meant, but then she started to suck.

The warm, wet heat of the maw alone was enough to bring him to full hardness, but the pressure on his lower body left him drooling. He felt the strangest sensation on his prostate, as if his insides were getting sucked out of his ass. Something that should have been agonizingly painful instead caused him to nearly pass out from the raw bliss that surged through his body. The tongue, coiled around his lower body, seemed to apply special pressure to his cock.

Gwen let go of his little hands. Instantly he was lost into that hot, slimy, pitch black cave, bathed in her drool and forced to breath the scent of mouth. Grabbing hold of her tongue by the taste buds, he desperately ground his cock into the grand muscle. Though the pressure upon his prostate had left him, he was free to rub his erection until he felt the hot, sticky slime spill out. It was quickly diluted by the sheer amount of saliva that occupied the cave. He felt the tongue lift and found himself squished against the roof of the mouth. His world shifted as Gwen tilted her snout to the sky and opened her lips, allowing light and cool air to flood inside. Gwen gulped all the drool and slime down before tilting her head forward and allowing the little man to tumble out, landing on her delicate, outstretched hands.

"Hmmm, not enough stimulation to kick start your growth, I think. Don't worry! I have someplace else I think you'll enjoy."

With the little man snuggly cupped in her massive hand, she stuffed him up against her plump breasts. If the width of her shoulders was considered, they would be classified as B-cups. Certainly not enormous, but to Josh they were a pair of supple mountains that melded around his body, snuggling him in soft grey fur, loving flesh, and the scent of woman. The best thing was how Gwen applied and released pressure, sometimes smothering him so firmly he was cut off from light and air, other times allowing him grind and wiggle to his heart's content.

She stood before a hip high table and deposited the little man on the pristine white top. She turned, and he watched with awe how her mountainous body moved so agilely. When facing the other way, she lifted her tail up, took hold of her buttocks, and spread them wide to reveal the quivering lips of her slimy vagina and the twitching puckered hole of her anus. The scent of woman washed over him, and he suddenly realized she had been enjoying his time in her mouth and the breast massage quite a bit.

Gwen squatted slightly and the vaginal lips disappeared past the horizon of the table. The pucker, however, came within reach. She pulled her squishy ass cheeks even farther apart and backed up. They melded against the table, twin walls of grey, mousey, rump canyon.

His steps were slow and steady as he moved between the huge, melding buttocks. Reaching a hand out as he passed, he gave it a firm squeeze, marveling at the significant yield. It was warm between her cheeks, enough he was sure he would be safe from the cold air, but he wanted to be inside her.

He put his hands against the wrinkled pucker. Gwen gave a cute yippy noise and the pucker flexed away. She took a deep breath, pulled her buttocks wider apart, and leaned a bit back.

"J-just go easy on me, Josh," she cooed. "I- I've never gotten it back there before."

He was more careful this time, taking some time to stroke the wrinkled anus, tickling it. It did flex away several times, but more and more she seemed to grow accustomed to the feel of little fingers against her. Making a duckbill with his right hand, Josh pushed against the center. The warmth of the body swallowed up his arm up to the elbow before it flexed away, but remaining tight, Josh stumbled forward with it. When it came back, he lifted his other hand and allowed both his arms to be enveloped in that wonderful warmth.

Taking a deep breath of the warm, musky air, he stuck his head forward and forced himself inside the inviting anus. A hot gust of air rushed to meet him, as did the sounds of body. Blood rushing, belly gurgling, lungs breathing. So amazing, so fascinating. The pucker flexed and slurped, and he was taken in to the ribs. His legs were left to kick and dangle until he managed to get onto his elbows and squirm his way into that delightful cave.

Gwen eased her butt onto the table. The meaty slabs melded and pushed together, causing the little legs to sink inside her. "Ah," she groaned, arching her back and grinding her ass down to ease the ticklish body into her hungry vent. But she could feel his little feet still outside, and no matter how much she squeezed and clenched, she could not slurp him up proper. Instead, she rolled onto her side and reached beneath her. A pair of fingers between his legs was more than enough to jam him the rest of the way inside. As she pulled her fingers out, she felt her tingling vent close, sealing the little man in musky darkness.

"Oh god," Gwen muttered, groping her breast while two fingers inside her gaping vagina. It was almost painful, how much Josh was squirming and wiggling, kicking her insides, stroking her, licking her perhaps.

"Oh god," Josh muttered, wrapping a hand around his cock. Remembering that wonderful pleasure when he was in her mouth, two fingers were stuffed between his butt cheeks. In that hot, musky black, his eyes bulged and he pushed himself forward, resting against one of her slimy walls. His whole body was massaged when she squeezed, and though he was feeling light headed and overheated, he wished to never leave this fleshy cave.

Gwen screamed out, stumbling forward and plopping onto the bed she had woken up on. Ass up, head down, she fantasized that Josh was behind her, thrusting into her ass, slamming her so hard. It was as Josh hit his climax, and spread his arms and legs out in all directions that she finally felt it. A great wash of cum gushed out from between her wide thighs. Unable to control herself, she plopped forward and lay there, splash after splash of lady juice washing onto the mattress.

It felt like forever before her body unlocked its tension, and she started to worry as she couldn't feel Josh moving around inside her roomy bowels. She attempted to reach back, but the sheer power of the orgasm left her completely tuckered out.

It was a relief when she felt something push out of her tight ring, and tiny hands grab onto a strand of rump fur. Another bulk escaped her depths, his other arm, then something far larger: his head. Her large, rounded ears swayed like satellite dishes, at last hearing the rapid panting of Josh as he crawled out of her depths.

With her upper body free of the butt, he braced his hands upon her ring. Tilting his body forward, he slipped his hips and legs free of the pucker. He plummeted the short distance, finally landing with a muffled "oomph" upon the mattress. Close to his head was Gwen's gaping, drooling womanhood, slime still oozing out and the walls still well spread from her fingers. "Oh my god," he muttered as he rolled onto all fours.

"Josh?" Gwen asked. "Josh, are you-!"

Words were cut short as she felt the little touch that had before explored her anus, now stroking her well spread lips.

It was easier to part her pussy than it was her ass. Her fingers had done most of the work already. He put both arms shoulder deep inside, then his left foot. He found purchase in the slime by resting his sole upon her clitoris. Off in the distance, he heard Gwen shout. The mountainous body quaked as Gwen arched her back. A hand came to loom above her ass, but before she could grab him he threw himself into the stifling cavern.

Gwen rose to all fours. Her body was shaking like mad. Groaning, she lowered her upper body and reached between her legs. Moments were spent fishing about, searching, and though she brushed against the furless body several times, her fingers were too blunt and dumb to catch him.

Groaning, she rolled onto her side. She felt the little body tossed around and let out another groan.

"If," she said, gulping as she rolled onto her back and managed to sit up. "If you can hear me, give a kick."

She waited, breathless, and when she finally felt the impact of tiny toes against her quivering walls, she nearly squirted right there. "G-good. I… I am going to find a doctor. T-they should know you've ceased your shrinking, ah, ah, ah. For now though… I think you should stay in there… where it's warm."