The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

THE SHRINKING MACHINE — CHAPTER 1A — SUMMER WHATES, ESQ.

My test subject woke up about ten minutes after I had strapped her to the gurney—right on time. Good, good. Her data was already loaded from earlier, and I’d just finished the final diagnostics; I tapped away a sequence into the machine, putting it in standby, then got up and stretched as she came around. This was going to really be something.

I’d always thought my father was a crackpot and none of the theories he’d talked about in his last ten years were real; it was too bad, he’d been only days away from completing the machine that would prove him right when he died. Now, everything he had was mine, which wasn’t much—except for his machine that can alter reality and change people’s minds and bodies, which I guess is something.

I’d been one of the few who still talked to him—if only because I found him funny, the idea of a modern-day mad scientist is hilarious to me—and the old bastard had willed everything to me. Including this thing, the ‘machine’, which he’d never named; it was, at present, pointed at the sexy young lawyer’s body on the gurney. She groaned, and her eyes blinked a few times under the light of the cheap flourescents in the ceiling of my father’s old garage.

“Wha…. Where…” She sounded groggy and confused. I nodded to myself, and came around the folding table where the old man had put the computer which controlled the whole apparatus. It was quiet and musty in the garage, with the distant smell of the mildew which had long since invaded the house. The walls were mostly pegboard, with some unpainted drywall in places.

There was a splintering workbench off to one side with a variety of tools and inscrutable bits of technology scattered on it. A rack of car batteries were stacked up near a dirty window; their cables all fed to the emitter. A few had fallen off, but I’d gingerly re-attached them. There was a folding table toward the car door, with a cheap office chair set up and Dad’s old PC—complete with the same dusty old keyboard and two-button mouse he’d always used—booted up and hooked into the emitter itself. The PC was how it was controlled, except Dad’s software to do it was terrible.

He’d converted this place into his workshop of sorts, all centered on constructing the machine. To change the world, he’d said, eyes wide and delirious—to right all wrongs. I don’t know about that last part, but I knew it was certainly about to change this lawyer girl’s world, if some of the tests I’d run beforehand were any indication.

I ran my small hand along the steel housing of the machine’s emitter. It looked surprisingly like a weapon—one right out of science fiction, a prototype laser cannon or something. Its tungsten focusing rod, which jutted out the front and was pointed at the lawyer chick, was ringed by solid-looking steel toroid shapes—part of the heat exchange apparatus.

Copper pipes, for the water that cooled it, ran through and between the toroids—critical to keep the thing from melting down in operation. We don’t want that. All of it was surrounded by a complex array of tangled multi-colored cables and re-purposed exposed circuit boards, especially toward the back where it met the strut that kept it upright.

The main body of the device was boxy, with various protrusions and glowing whatsadoozits on the outer housing—including a maddening collection of power cables coming up from the bottom and wrapping around the strut it was mounted on. The metal strut itself was mounted on a rolling platform. It looked like it had been rolled right off the set of a low-budget sci-fi movie.

At least fifteen cables ran from the base of the machine to the computer, none of which I’d dared to even unplug for now. I couldn’t pretend to fully understand the thing, and definitely not the theory underlying its operation—my own field was programming, with only a little smattering of physics and science thrown in. Just enough to be dangerous when I got my hands on the machine, basically. I pulled my hand away and looked at the lawyer woman. Forgot her name.

She was about five years older than me, I’d guess, probably close to thirty—and, by traditional accounting, far better-looking than I was. I’d always been a runt, a scrawny and gawky girl with what barely qualified as breasts and stringy brown hair. My eyes were just another shade of brown, acne scars dotted my face, and I didn’t look much better naked than in clothes. I had on a basic grey tee, fitted snugly over my skinny body and pump-up bra, and ripped blue jeans. I’d never lacked for sex—with… less-than-ideal men, and a few women who always moved on—but I’d never liked how I looked.

This lawyer girl, though, she was something. I’d had trouble focusing on what she said every time she came here and harassed me about Dad’s estate. A smooth, tanned body, athletic curves, black hair just past her shoulders, clear blue eyes on a lovely face with thin lips, gorgeous—if little—breasts… she had on a cute little navy business jacket and a cream-colored skirt, with a subdued pink blouse underneath. I’d tugged her shoes off while she was out, and she wasn’t wearing any hose today… unlike last time.

God, I couldn’t wait—I wanted to just do it right now, to press the button that would make her shrink. To watch her diminish right before my eyes… she’d be so hot when she was tiny… my nipples were already stiff just thinking about it. Of course, the machine could do much more than make people shrink; it could do almost anything… sort of.

It could only do a certain amount at a time without overheating—and the more you tried to do, the hotter it got. I had to be careful, since I doubted I could fix it if the thing broke… or worse, melted. In addition, one thing I’d learned early into putting it together—for some reason, the machine only worked on people. I’d already tried to use it to turn a piece of wood into gold, to turn a towel into stacks of hundred-dollar bills, to turn an abandoned car engine block into a copy of the machine itself, a few more ideas… but the only valid targets were living things.

Still, the moment I found the command codes that supposedly made it possible to reduce someone’s size—dramatically if I wished—I already knew what I’d use it for. Don’t ask me why, but having a lover small enough to fit in my hand had been a fantasy for years—especially if I could have a cute female one.

Fortunately, from what it looked like in the other command codes I found, the machine could also help Lawyer Girl along toward realizing that shrinking that small was the best thing that would ever happen to her. I’d take very good care of her, I already knew it.

I belatedly remembered that she’d asked a question.

“You’re in my lab. Dad’s lab. Whatever.” I shrugged, rolling my eyes at the last word. I waved a hand side to side. “Such as it is.”

“Your… what?” She shook her head after looking at me. Her voice was actually pretty sexy when I listened to it, even when she was confused and groggy. Her eyes went wide. “Hey—it’s you! His daughter!”

“That’s right. Rachel Cartwright, only next of kin to Michael Cartwright, ex-PhD. You were here to make me sign that crap to give Dad’s house away, right?” They’d been making to foreclose on Dad’s old ranch house in upstate Pennsylvania even before he died. Once he was no more, the vultures were circling. I guess building a save-the-world ray is expensive, and Dad spent all of his savings on it… and then some, hence the visit from the bank’s attorney.

“Yes, I—“

I waved a hand dismissively. “You can have his trash heap, I just want to take a few odds and ends home with me first.” I walked back to the table, falling into the cheap plastic office chair that was behind it. “Now, how about this—we start with the little changes, and work our way up to the more interesting things.”

“Start what? What is this! Let me go!” She fought against the restraints. I worried briefly if she would be able to escape; it wasn’t exactly a professional setup. The ‘gurney’ was just a rolling fold-out bed I’d lugged home from the store yesterday, after her last visit, and I’d tied her wrists and ankles to its frame with some bungee cords I found. She twisted and fought briefly, but when I saw she wasn’t going anywhere, I let out a sigh of relief.

She suddenly shot me an angry glare. “Let me go right now! This is completely illegal! I drove here across a state line, you know. You could get arrested by the FBI, and they don’t play nice.”

Her scowl seemed vicious—but, despite my usual wallflower personality, I summoned the will to weather it. I had the power now. She seemed even more frustrated with my response, and looked around again. “How did you even get me here? Did you drug me, or knock me out? That’s assault and battery, on top of kidnapping.”

“I used it on long-range mode.” I idly pointed a finger toward the machine I clicked the mouse with the other hand. “Turns out you can go up to about two hundred yards with it, but you give up a lot of precision. Fortunately, you don’t need to do anything complicated to make someone go unconscious, so…”

I shrugged, and finished the sequence. I tapped the Commit button, and heard the machine begin to make a low humming sound, coolant pumps churning—then a high-pitched noise, sort of like a tuning fork, filled my ears. That would be the operational cycle.

One of the car batteries along the wall powering it suddenly make a flash and sparks flew. I shielded my eyes, then looked again; it wasn’t anything serious, I just hadn’t put the clamps on right. The PC monitor was burning through dozens of inscrutable text-only screens and old-school ASCII schematics, but the power issue hadn’t interrupt the sequence. Who knew what would happen if I did.

She looked at the machine, and her face went from anger to panic. This particular cute, bitchy lawyer girl, working for Stone & Associates, the firm the bank had hired, had been by here three times since my father died and I’d moved in temporarily to sort through his things. Every time she’d been such a bitch, so mean and aggressive; definitely not my type. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been for me… had I actually been grieving much about Dad. Fortunately, her personality was something that could now be addressed.

I kicked both legs back and forth under the chair, my feet not quite reaching the floor. Dad had set the chair to his height, then apparently broken the lever that let you set it. I spun around once, humming to myself in anticipation. I let one hand go down to where my legs met, squeezing my mons. I felt the wetness already gathering. God, she was gorgeous; I was tempted again to just skip right to miniaturizing her.

I cautioned myself—I’d decided to start off with simpler things because I wanted to get more of a handle on the machine and what it could do before I shrank her. It would give me more of an opportunity to make her even sexier, too.

I smiled wanly to myself for a moment as the machine finished powering up and the coolant pumps churned. Thanks, Dad. Hope you don’t mind if I re-purpose your save-the-world machine into your perverted, amoral daughter’s shrink ray.

I’d found his notes on the second day of going through the house, and as one of the few people in the world who could actually read his inscrutable handwriting, and as someone to whom he’d spent countless hours blathering about the intricacies of his ideas—even when I was a middle-school girl who couldn’t possibly absorb it—I had just enough understanding to know what it meant when I got the machine actually online. Its potential was truly limitless.

Maybe if Dad had spent a few more years actually being a dad, and less being a small-time mad scientist, I wouldn’t be using his masterpiece as a glorified way to get myself off—but who cares, that’s water under the bridge. This was going to be awesome.

The machine’s accumulator, an innocuous and heavy-looking rectangular black box about the size of a foot locker, laid next to my feet, under the folding table. I didn’t know much about it, other than that it was the most irreplaceable part of the whole machine—and also the biggest bottleneck. It somehow gathered something from spacetime itself, which the machine used to make its magic possible…. but building up a full charge on it took weeks. Plenty of cables ran out of it, to the emitter—but, oddly, no power ran into it.

I knew enough about it to know I wouldn’t be able to go around shrinking people into toys every day—I was going to have to carefully pick and choose when and how I used the bulky, inefficient machine. What if I spent all of its charge at once, then got myself into trouble and didn’t have enough power left in the thing to zap my way out before they carted me off to jail, or worse? I slid my foot across the heavy box, and felt a sense of energy from the thing—like unimaginable potential was inside.

There was no visible beam, of course. I knew the energies of the machine didn’t show up in the visible spectrum, or any spectrum known to mainstream science. I could only tell it was on because of the dimly glowing light at the tip of the field emitter thingy, and the sudden hissing jets of steam that shot out in multiple directions from the many valves all over the exterior of the machine’s housing.

The process had begun, this time on my first human subject… aside from dumb stuff just to confirm it worked, like making the mailman wear orange socks and a few joggers burst out into song as they ran. The hand at my mons sneaked under the hem of my jeans and panties and I licked my lips. Here goes nothing.

She wailed loudly, at first in surprise and panic at the anticipation of pain, but the wail soon became a moan as the energy seeped into her body. Its power focused first on her breasts, B-cups under a pump-up bra like mine—and now, growing. She moaned further as I watched her boobs begin to expand. I’d made sure it would be a pleasant process for her—come on, I’m not just needlessly cruel. The front of her jacket pushed upward, the mounds pressing outward against her bra and growing further still.

The fabric of her jacket and bra became strained as the burgeoning globes stretched them to the limit, and I heard some ripping sounds and a pop as her bra snapped. Her back arched as it happened, and her moaning became louder. That would be the increased sensitivity that the machine was also causing in her new tits, magnifying that sexual pleasure she felt from them even as they grew.

Only I knew to look for the nearly imperceptible change in size. With the machine unable to simply create living tissue at any rate worth considering, I’d instead had it withdrawal the necessary mass for her breast expansion uniformly from all the rest of her person. She would finish this change about an inch and a half shorter. Lying down, she likely wouldn’t notice, but it was enough to send a twinge into my pussy. She had shrunk—and she’d only just started.

The whirring sound from inside the machine stopped as I got up out of my chair. The sequence was finishing, but the jets of steam were still coming out of the machine for a time as it cooled off. I could already tell the room was hotter and more humid; if I was going to use it again, I’d have to open a window unless I wanted to risk shorting something out. It would be a few minutes before it would be usable again anyway; in the meantime, it was time to test the product.

I sauntered over to her side. She was gasping and catching her breath, her whole torso twisting and writhing around as the sensitivity of her tits rubbing against the fabric inside her suit drove her wild.

“Ahhhh! What the hell—did—you—do—to—meee!” She wailed again, turning her head aside and gritting her teeth.

“Success!” I laughed to myself. “Hey, be a little happier. Millions of women would give up their life savings for a bigger rack, let alone a pair like these.”

Before she could respond, I took a little pity on her, and began to unbutton the front of her jacket—easy, since all but one button had already popped off. She tried to fight back, but that basically just meant a futile wiggling. It practically flew open as I gave the last button a tug—and I beheld the big round globes… hidden only by a thin, sweat-soaked blouse and a bra.

I could see the outline of her expanded nipples poking through the blouse underneath; her old bra couldn’t contain their swollen beauty. The blouse was soaking with her sweat, clinging to her generous, gorgeous boob-mass. I licked my lips, and started to unbutton her blouse… a little more work, it actually could stretch to accommodate her bigger boobies. Her fighting continued, but I won again, easily undoing it, and pulling it open as well.

Her white bra was already undone and slid up her chest as I revealed them. Her new tits were magnificent, even more than I had hoped for. Large brown nipples capped proud Ds, or maybe even F-cups—pleasant globes, their mass sagging only a tiny bit to each side as she laid on her back. It made some sick part of me drool with anticipation that those big jugs were going to shrink down to tiny little grapes along with all the rest of her; she’d have little jiggly things that would fit under my thumbs.

I reached out and took them, one in each hand, pushing them together—eliciting another moan from her. I bent forward, opening my mouth, meeting her panicked eyes as I found one nipple. I felt her whole body go tense underneath me as the pleasure shot directly into her mind. Her tits were incredibly sensitive now—equally sensitive as her clit. I sucked harder, taking most of the big nipple into my mouth. I hopped up for a moment, straddling her helpless body with my own smaller one as I came back down to lick and suck at her other nipple.

It didn’t take long. I switched back and forth, teasing her a few times before I pressed them both together and licked both goodies on offer. Her moans became a low wail, and I felt her tenseness slacken as waves of pleasure washed out of her tits throughout her whole body. I’d induced my first boob-gasm. The vacant, happy look on her face was beautiful—if only for a few moments. As I came back up, she shook herself, squirming in the restraints, and—still panting, but gathering her thoughts again—raged at me.

“You bitch! What the fuck is this! Some kind of drug?” She tried to kick her legs free, and failed.

“Oh, don’t be insulting. This is cutting-edge science… I think.” I slid off of her and came down to the floor, landing lightly on both of my sneakered feet. I spun around, went over to the machine, and put one hand against it. The steam jets had stopped at some point while I was attacking her breasts. The machine was still a little bit too hot, but it would be usable soon. I bit my lip. What next, I wondered? I glanced at the accumulator’s charge indicator on the screen. Still over ninety percent. Excellent.

An idea came to mind. I turned to face her, and walked back to her side. Her eyes went wide as my hands played along her body. I unzipped her skirt, gently sliding it out from under her ass and setting it aside; she wouldn’t need it anymore. Beneath, she was wearing plain white panties, just like her bra.

She was surprisingly boring, aside from the push-up bra, but I guess that was just a nod to a man’s world that always favored the bigger rack… but she had such an amazing body underneath her outfit! I’d still been kind of hoping to find lacy black panties and tattoos within, though. She already had a fantastic ass, I had to admit; there was nothing for me to improve there.

I wondered for a moment, and thumbed the hem of her panties; in shock, she tried to turn away, but couldn’t. I got them halfway down her legs, and she closed her eyes and turned her head partly away in shame. I could see her face was already bright red and tears were forming in her eyes.

I frowned. She had a big, hairy bush; in the hot room, the wiry pubic hair was mostly matted against her skin, but some stray hairs still stuck out in every direction. I ran an experimental finger along her slit. She was very wet, probably because of what I’d done with her tits.

I probed one finger inside, and she groaned in a failing attempt to resist as I sneaked within her body. I toyed with her clit briefly, but her reaction wasn’t really very sexy. I sighed. Well, the machine ought to be cooled off by then; time to change her a bit more. I slid off the bedside and walked over toward the computer again.

“What are you doing?” Her voice now had more fear in it than anger. “What’s going on? What happened to my body?”

“Ready for another round? Cause I am.” I loaded another two files, pre-set stuff that I then set to combining into a single sequence. It would take a few minutes. Actually creating whole sequences from scratch took much longer that this; usually hours, poring through Dad’s notes. Maybe it would go faster once I understood the theory.

She continued to fidget in her bonds for a while, her massive tits jiggling constantly and threatening to distract me. It took another few minutes for the thing to compile. I reviewed it one last time, then pressed Commit. The machine whirred to life again as I went over and opened a window to let the humidity out—it would barely be enough to let me keep using the machine, but it would be enough.

“No!” She twisted and thrashed more forcefully as she heard the machine coming back online. “Wait! No!” She screamed it as the sequence began and steam hissed, then the telltale keening sound of the operation cycle began. The room heated up further as I padded back toward her, keeping clear of its field and the steam jets until the machine’s sequence had ended. The invisible field surrounded her whole body, this time with an even more ambitious set of transformations for her. Her screams weakened, finally fading into sensual moans again.

As I watched, she changed a little bit more into what I had in mind for her. The hair over her pussy vanished forever, leaving only bare smooth skin, and then the same happened to all the hair below her head. The field lingered inside her pussy for a while, drastically increasing her capacity to secrete wetness.

The bigger changes happened inside her nervous system. Her whole body became more sensitive to the female touch; it would cause a chain reaction in her nerves and brain that would make her arousal inevitable. The field’s semi-intelligent software found its way along her nerves, down to her clit and its specialized pleasure nerves. It forced those to grow, increasing her capacity to feel orgasmic pleasure fivefold, then the field seeped out into her body as a whole.

It found her hormones and associated glands, and stimulated them to grow and become much stronger, permanently saturating her mind with a dripping need for sex. Her body would never let her mind get very far from thoughts of sex and pleasure anymore, especially not the type she could find with other girls. The nerves on her tongue also were blessed with a change—the taste of pussy became an instant favorite, especially what she perceived as mine.

The machine wound down, hissing steam. I walked over to her once it was fully into its cooling cycle, hopping back up onto the side of the bed and surveying my work. Her bald pussy looked delicious; smooth and delectable. I ran one hand over the soft mons of her sex, and she gasped and shuddered at my touch—just the way I wanted her to.

I smiled as she moaned, her newly sensitive skin already overloading her mind. She would get used to it soon, but in the first few moments, it would be a real shock. I sidled up just enough that my ass touched her side—and she moaned louder, simple contact with me being enough to send a tiny jolt of pleasure throughout her body.

It was getting hot—not just sexually, but actually very hot. Like a sauna. My shirt was completely stuck to my skinny frame. I sighed, looking down at it; I really had to find a way to make the machine more heat-efficient. Dad hadn’t really focused much on the convenience factors with it, he’d just been out to prove the theory.

I reached down to the hem of my shirt, and peeled it up and over my head, taking a deep breath and reveling in the feel of my sweaty skin being bared. My bra—more or less just decorative, I didn’t actually need it—was uncomfortably wet on the inside too, so I reached around behind myself and snapped it off. My tiny tits soon felt the warm air on them too, and I was no less sweaty for it, but it was freeing and sexy. I bit my lip and looked down at my creation again.

She was looking up at me, her eyes wide as she’d watched me strip. I smiled and ran one hand along her stomach again, this time stopping right in between her tits. She groaned as I got close to them, then twisted around.

“Stop… please…” She was panting too, her big tits heaving.

I rolled my eyes and hopped off the side of the bed, giving one of her nipples a tweak as I left. She moaned for a second again as I came up and tested the machine. It was still hot. Well, I needed time to think anyway—what next?

“Please…” There was no anger anymore in her voice behind me, just a small and pathetic plea. “I won’t tell anyone… just… please let me go…”

I turned, folding my arms. “Aww, is the arrogant bitchy lawyer girl already giving up?” I came up to her side again, and hopped up, planting my butt next to her body. She looked hilarious—strapped to the table, those wonderfully heaving tits swaying with each breath, all of her skin and her bald pussy glistening with a light sheen of sweat, her hair splayed out everywhere, and wearing an expression like a lost puppy.

“Please…” Her lip trembled. “I have a life… I have a career… don’t do this to me…”

“Oh, come on.” I waved a hand. “You’re as miserable a bitch as they come. You don’t have anyone that’s going to miss you.” I stopped for a moment. Maybe it was time? It was time. I walked back to the computers.

“No…” I heard her continue to plea, but tuned her out as I began to tap another sequence in while the cooling sequence finished. The machine would be ready by the time I was done—this would be another long one. The accumulator read 81%—all of those changes, including expanding her boobs, hadn’t taken that as much energy as I thought. Maybe I could even shrink her today! I smiled to myself.

I tapped and tapped, loading file after file and extracting the parts I wanted from work I’d stayed up all last night doing—until her pleas turned into quiet mumbles. I took a drink from my warm coffee, which I’d nearly forgotten about. About ten minutes later, I reviewed the sequence. It had taken longer than I expected, but I wanted nothing but perfection from her—and best of all, this would be the start of what I was most waiting for. I tapped the Commit button and stood up, stretching. I smiled at her. She was going to make such a fucking awesome toy. I wondered—suddenly, I recalled something.

“Oh, hey, I forgot.” She looked over at me, then back at the machine in horror as she heard it humming. The glowing parts took on a sparkling pattern of spiraling flashes as it loaded an especially complex array of reality warps. She struggled uselessly for a while, sobbing and moaning ‘no’ over and over. I tried to talk loud enough to be heard over the machine. “What was your name again?”

She turned her head back to me, eyes wide, not even comprehending until the last second before the firing sequence began. “Wha—“

The machine’s field shot out and seeped into her body, first spreading throughout her whole person and beginning a gradual shrinking process. Ever so slowly, the whole of her body was reduced, inch by inch, which taxed the accumulator considerably—but the speed at which it happened left just barely enough energy to let it begin the more complex work within her mind.

While the greater field began her inexorable process toward smallness, the field also found her nervous system and rode it right up into her brain. There, it began to do wonders to her attitude. I came up near her again, staying clear of the field. I was fairly sure I could be nearby and even touch her and the machine would only do its work on her once it was locked in—but I wasn’t sure enough to risk it. There was no need to turn myself into a compliant lesbian slave too, and become even more petite at that.

It found her consciousness and began to insert some interesting new elements. From then on, anything she heard from me would bypass most of her critical thinking skills; I could tell her the moon was made of cheese and she’d innocently ask me what kind. Her ambitions, willpower, and that assertive, go-getter personality were each corrupted and twisted by the field’s mind-altering power.

She would remember what it was to be her old self, but she’d never really recover the independent thinking and willpower that she had. I rearranged her emotions a little to allow sex to fill the void left by the life she’d once possessed; she wouldn’t need a rewarding career, self-affirmation, travel plans, or anything like that. She’d be happy with just a good orgasm, or ten, a day.

I worked my fingers over my clit as I watched the tiny shifts her body underwent as it was reduced. She’d lost a few inches already, but it was nothing someone would notice right away unless they’d been familiar with her before. She might be able to tell some of them she was wearing heels before, but soon that point would be past and her reduced size would make it impossible for her to pretend to be her old self with anyone who’d ever known her.

My imagination began to sneak into the future, a world where my loving, tiny slave was too small to even show herself in the outside world, who no longer had anyone else but me, and willingly accepted whatever treatment I subjected her to. To simply be my possession was all she would ever need, once her willpower had been reduced as much as her body would be.

Perhaps the most important right then—what I began with the last change, I finished with this one. The machine wasn’t quite finished corrupting and altering who she once was. It found her sense of self and what she wanted to be in life, eroded them both down until they only tiny shreds of who she used to be—and then it induced a deep, powerful, slavish devotion to me; her entire existence was soon reconstructed around the idea of pleasing me.

She existed to serve me, to please me, to be touched and enjoyed by me. If that wasn’t enough, I had the machine seek out her sexuality, first permanently altering her into a pure lesbian, then twisting her desires around and around along with all the rest of her mind, until she would become aroused by anything that visibly aroused me—whether she wanted to be or not.

Finally, I had it insert a new kind of enjoyment—I had the machine link the fear and insecurity of being feeble and helpless with sexual excitement. She would never consciously understand it, the connection would be too deeply buried, but any time she felt trepidation or fear of her all-powerful Mistress, any time she was utterly powerless to stop me from having my way with her, her nipples would stiffen and her pussy would become soaking wet, and her body would inch ever closer to the peak of pleasure. I took some pride in all that—it’d taken me no small effort to program the machine to change her so profoundly.

What I didn’t do in all this, however, was imbue her with any special fetish or interest in her own inevitable miniaturization. Something told me it would be more fun if, after all that I’d done to her mind, she still was reluctant to be reduced to pocket-size.

The machine’s whirring began to slow down. At my best guess, along with much of her willpower, she’d also lost about six or seven inches with this last exposure—she looked to be roughly my size now. Suddenly, I was distracted by flashes and loud popping, then zapping sounds coming from the battery rack again.

This time it was from several of them, and a cable fell off one as sparks flew out into the room in a brilliant orange shower. I shielded my eyes and face, turning away and grimacing as I smelled the acrid chemical smoke of the charred battery. The machine proper may have been powered by the accumulator, but the other machines involved ran on the more conventional AC current. Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t much of an electrician, and I wasn’t any better.

The lights in the whole house flickered on and off, the clock radio on the workbench resetting. The computer lost power, and as the lights came back on, I heard it beeping with the sound of a reboot. I cursed myself; how had I not thought to hook up a battery backup to the CPU?

“Mistress Rachel…” I was glad to find that one other minor change among all the others had set in—she would now address me properly.Her voice was breathy now, and slightly higher, panting with the effort and likely headache involved the profound alterations and shifts her mind had been subjected to. The pain, if any, would clear up momentarily.

I looked over at her, and she was staring up at me with loving, happy eyes, infatuated and incredibly joyful just to see me. Immediately there was already another flood of wetness, making my panties stick to my skin more than could be accounted for by the room’s temperature. Her eyes constantly darted between my bare tits and my face. I stopped, figuring the computer could wait. I had backups of all the software anyway. I’m not an idiot. I said I’m a code monkey, right?

“Yes, dear?” I came up to her side, hopping up and settling my butt on the edge of the bed again. This time she didn’t try to edge away, but welcomed my closeness. I let one hand go out and find the center of her stomach, resting on the warm, sweaty skin. She moaned with pleasure at my simple touch.

She seemed at a loss for words for a time, just staring into my eyes, barely able to meet them. I could almost taste her loving defeat. She finally choked out some words. “I’m so… so… so sorry about earlier, Mistress… I said so many things to you…”

“But you’re better now, right? That wasn’t the new you talking.” I stroked my hand around, sliding it up toward her big tits. I wanted to suck on them again… but there were other things I wanted to do first. She writhed playfully beneath my touch, smiling at the welcome caress. Yeah, she was definitely much better this way.

“Yes, Mistress. Of course. I would never question you.” She paused. “And Mistress—my name… it was Summer—Summer Whates. I hope you like my name, Mistress, but if you have another one for me, I will forget being Summer.”

“Hmmm…” I folded my arms. “Summer is a nice name, actually. You can still be called Summer. But you belong to me now.”

“Of course.” She said it as though I’d told her the sun would rise in the morning. She glanced down at herself, and noticed something was odd. Her jeans, which, even with her sweat and wetness making them stick to her, seemed oversized. Looking around slightly, she noticed her hands and feet weren’t quite as secure in the restraints anymore. She looked back at me. “Mistress… did this table get bigger?”

“Not exactly…” I felt another twinge inside myself as I thought about it. “I shrank you a little. And you came out well… it fits you. You were meant to be smaller for me.” I slid one hand up her chest, finding those globes again, and then sneaked it back south—toward her sex.

Her eyes went wider still as my fingers found her clit and entrance, and I relished the sensation of her newly bald, perfectly smooth mons, and the plump, soaked lips within. I ran my hand over it a few times before slipping one finger inside her slick channel, making her squirm in her restraints. Her eyes met mine, and she shied away, unable to look her Mistress in the eyes for more than a second.

It was so hot that I was compelled to play with myself briefly as well, letting my other hand go under the hem of my jeans and find my clit. Her squirming and the bouncing of those gorgeous tits as she lost herself to pleasure just from my exploring fingers was working quickly. I inserted a second, finding her entrance even more soaked and more than willing to accept. I wondered how much tighter she was, now that I’d done this to her. I inserted a third, feeling a bit of resistance. Her expression became more strained, but she didn’t stop her moaning sounds.

I let a thumb come to rest on her clit, working it around slowly as I pumped my fingers in and out. The hissing of the steam stopped, and soon the only noises in the room were her moans and the slick sounds of my fingers within her. Her back arched, jutting those tits out in a beautiful way. I bent forward, leaning down toward her face; her eyes darted back and forth, afraid to look me in the face, but also filled with wonder that I would give her such personal treatment.

This time was special, though—after this, she’d be experiencing sex in a whole new way, so I let her stare at my face up close for now—while our bodies were roughly the same size. Her moans became a slight whimpering as she was filled with trepidation and pleasure, the two forces warring in her slave mind.

I suddenly attacked, giving her a big, sloppy kiss as my thumb pressed her hard. I felt her weight shifting and squirming underneath me as her body involuntarily fought the restraints. Her orgasm triggered quickly, and she soon was moaning loudly right into my mouth as her orgasm built higher and higher, then slowly, gracefully, exploded into more pleasure than she had ever felt before.

Her moans became a low scream of excitement and sheer emotional force as the waves of it threatened to sweep her mind away, blasting out from her clit and into every corner, fold, and crevice of her body. Every nerve briefly became one of pleasure as the epic, colossal orgasm detonated within her again and again.

I had come up when it finally began to wind down. I’d enjoyed watching her total abandon, her eyes rolling back and breath becoming a quick pant as it briefly turned her into nothing more than an animal. Her mind reassembled itself while I drew my hand off her clit, looking down at it—shiny and soaked with her wetness. I gave it a lick, and found she tasted strong and feminine, just what I liked. I wiped it off on her skirt—it would make typing difficult—and slid off the side of the bed.

“Mistress…” She was still breathless, but forced it out. “I can’t believe it… that felt so amazing… will it be like this every time now?”

“That was just a taste. I was sizing you up so I could play with you better next time.” I turned back toward her.

“Unnnhh…” Just telling her that seemed to have some effect on her body, and she shifted a little. “Mistress, I want to please you so much… tell me how I can please you.”

“Hmmm….” Her voice, her loving expression… she couldn’t be faking it. “I’m going to untie you. Hold still.”

“Yes, Mistress.” She held perfectly still as I undid the ropes, fiddling with knots I’d forgotten how I tied. After a few minutes, I finally had them undone, and she stayed right there in place—still holding perfectly motionless.

“Sit up, strip, and come to me.”

She bolted upright, joyfully, and slid her feet to the floor—and as she stood, she turned around, taking in the world around her. Everything must have seemed a bit bigger to her then, more daunting and overbearing. The world I lived in every day. It was just the start for her…

“Tell me, what’s it like to be short and puny?”

“It’s strange, Mistress…” She ran her hands up and down her sides, shivering—and not from the cold. “It’s a little scary, but if you like me more this way, then I like it too.”

I sighed, then pointed at her clothes again. “Did I not just tell you to strip?”

She gave a start, then grabbed her jacket and pulled it off, throwing it away immediately. As I stood there topless, she pushed the panties around her knees down to the floor and kicked them away, shucked her blouse, then pulled her bra over her head. She was gloriously nude now, and I licked my lips. She’d come out so well—not that she’d been anything less than sexy before. Her huge tits swayed as she walked toward me; moments ago they’d been a bit bigger, but I liked them even more now that I’d made her whole self a little smaller.

You see, I’ve never resented how petite I am—to me, it’s not that I’m too small, it’s that all those other girls are too fucking big. I’m fine with men being big. It suits them. I like men; I like them big, strong, and in charge. The hateful, jealous streak that I so carefully hid was always reserved only for other females taller than me, especially those who tried to push me around—the latest of which had been Summer here. The key words, of course, being ‘had been’.

I knew that I was using the machine to act on some sick and twisted parts of myself that had lain dormant for years—but at that point, I didn’t care. She was a bitch in need of an attitude adjustment, I had an interesting new toy that could make us both happy; it’s a win/win, right? I glanced down at myself again. I wondered if I ought to adjust myself too.

Well, I did resent having such a flat chest… but now that I’d had such success with a human test subject, maybe I could do something about it. Using the machine on myself would have to be later, though. I wanted to finish Summer’s metamorphosis into a toy before I even considered that.