Little White Lies. An illustrated story

[DocRick]

The following story is fictious and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The accompanying collages in this story are created primarily from images found on the Net and are created for entertainment purposes only without the receipt of any financial gain. Any other use by anyone is not intended or permitted.


Little White Lies

When I graduated from High School, I had no plans for my future, so I decided to join the military. The Iraq and Afghanistan wars were going on and I really didn't want to get killed, so I joined the Navy. The recruiter talked me into becoming a Hospital Corpsman. I asked him what it entailed, and he told me I would be working in hospitals, hanging out with beautiful nurses. It sounded good to me, so I signed the papers. Six months later, I was at Camp Pendleton, training to be a combat medic. One more in a string of bad decisions I had made during my life. My unit was deployed to Irag where we were involved in some really heavy shit. Not to brag, but emergency medical care came to me like a duck to water. I saved the lives of many of the Marines in my unit, and they started calling me "Doc", an honor not bestowed on every corpsman. The next tour was much of the same. I don't know how, but I got through it unscathed even though I had to expose myself numerous times to enemy fire to get to the side of a wounded Marine. The second tour ended, and we went back to Camp Pendleton, and I was assigned to work in the hospital while my unit was being refit and new Marines integrated to replace those who had been killed or injured.

One day, I was told to report to Personnel. I thought the nurse I had seduced ratted on me and I was going to brought up on fraternization charges. During the interview, the officer mentioned some things that I had done in the past. It seems they had been talking to some of my high school acquaintances, some of them in jail, regarding some of the shenanigans I had done, but never been caught. He asked why I had never mentioned these things before, in my initial recruitment process, or to my buddies in my previous units. I just said the past is the past and there are things that no one has the need to know. He told me some of the Marines in my last deployment had actually been assigned there to feel out candidates for a new unit being formed to do "things" the government wanted to keep under the table, and I had been tapped for consideration. They had tried to get me to talk about things I may had done as a youth, but I never said anything about the car thefts, my gang affiliations and other crimes I committed as a teenager. After the interview, I was told to go back to work and not discuss anything we talked about. A couple weeks went by and I hadn't heard anything so I thought I had been rejected. Then after my shift at the hospital one day, I came back to my barracks room to find it cleaned out and two Marine military policemen waiting for me. They handcuffed me and put me in their cruiser. I was driven to a very secluded part of the base where I found out I had been selected to try out for the new unit.

For the next six months, we trained hard and partied harder. The unit, a ten man team, would be working behind the lines, performing assignments such as assassinations or kidnappings of high value targets, demolitions including boobytraps and other counter insurgency activities. We were eventually deployed to the theater and began carrying out our assignments. The other Marines on our base thought we were a logistical unit since they never knew what we were doing. We would load up a couple trucks with supplies as if we going to deliver them to another base, but after a couple miles driving through the desert, we would stop, load up in helicopters and execute our latest mission. We were very successful and no one, even the enemy, ever saw us. Someone would just disappear or get killed, something would blow up or one of their vehicles would explode by setting off a boobytrap.

Then one day, it happened.......we were spotted by a civilian who ran to warn the local militia, and a firefight ensued. During the battle, I was shot in the thigh, my femur shattered. We managed to disengage and evade to a rendezvous with a evac helicopter and I was sent to a hospital in Germany where I was issued some new titanium hardware in my leg, then flown back to the states for rehabilitation. Since I was now unable to work with the unit anymore, I was processed for a medical discharge.

[DocRick]

Orphaned as child and having no siblings, I didn't have a home to go back to so I moved to an apartment in small college town not too far from the base and applied for a job at the college. I did get hired as a maintenance man and enrolled in a couple classes. I had spent a lot of my off duty time in this town and I liked it. Quiet and quant, I settled in my new life. My leg didn't bother me too much and I enjoyed my job as I usually worked alone and didn't want to really talk to anyone anyway. Many of the townsfolk knew I was a veteran and wanted to hear stories about the war or worse, were antiwar and would call me vile things, like "babykiller." I lived my days in quiet anonymity.






One day I was sitting under a tree having my lunch when a lady walked up to me. She was middle aged and, I guess you could call her "handsome" but probably was a showstopper in her youth. I knew who she was, a professor in the Microbiophysiology Department. She introduced herself to me and we made some small talk for a while. I was starting to think she was hitting on me, as I was older than most of the male students at the school, but then she said she was looking for someone to work in the lab. Her husband, a general in the Marine Corps, knew of me and my last assignment and I had a "top secret" security clearance. Some of the work she was involved in was classified and sponsored by the government so she needed someone she could trust to keep his mouth shut. I had to get back to work, so I told her I would think about it and walked off.

A week later, I met her in her office. I asked if the job was still available, and it was. I wanted to know a little more about what my duties were include and she said mainly setting up experiments for her classes, keeping the lab supplies stocked and stored. I asked why this job was so hush-hush and she said you might do, see or hear things that we don't want anyone to know about. Just like my last military assignment, but this time no one would be shooting at me. It sounded good, especially when she told me about the raise in pay and the house the college was giving me to live in, just across a nice park from the school grounds in a wooded setting with no immediate neighbors.

My hours were from 4 in the morning when I would set up the labs for the morning classes. No one else was around during this time and I preferred the solitude anyway. Then, I would set up the other lab for the afternoon classes, then go to my own two classes and get go home around 2 in the afternoon. Since I lived only two miles from the school, I walked through the park instead of driving. At 4 in the morning, no one was in the park and it was an enjoyable walk. At 2, the park was again virtually abandoned as most of the students and staff were in classes. The house I was given was an old but totally rehabbed 19th century sandstone, surrounded on three sides by woods, with a creek running through the backyard. Peaceful and secluded, it was perfect, especially since I didn't have to pay rent.

[DocRick]

Two months have passed since I started my new position at the college. I enjoyed my work. Mostly what I was initially told would be my duties. I set up labs, cleaned up after the classes, kept an inventory on everything we had in the storerooms. I really enjoyed the pay and hours which gave me plenty of time to relax, explore the area more, work out and visit the occasional pub. On a few occasions, Professor Stephens, my boss, asked me to go the local dog pound and pull a dog. Always a big one, at least 100 pounds. The labs used a variety of animals, mice, rats, rabbits, birds, monkeys but I never saw any dogs being used. But I had to tell myself, my ability to mind my own business was one of the reasons I got this job, so I never said anything and just did what I was asked to do.

One morning when I came in, there was a note on my locker. The assistant to the instructor for the Veterinary classes was ill and I needed to set up their class for the morning. A list of things they would need was included so I found their section of the storeroom and began filling the request. In one of the boxes were scale model skeletons of animals, dogs, cats, horses, cows and goats. Very realistic in their form, assembly and even the color, the only difference between the models and the real thing was the size. Most of them were about the size of a hamster skeleton. I dabbled in model making as a kid, but I could never accomplish anything this realistic. I gathered up everything, double checked the list, then wheeled the cart down the hall to the Veterinary School wing and set up the lab.

 

[DocRick]

It was a beautiful day. I stopped in the middle of the park on my way home just to breathe in the fresh spring air and gaze up into the blue sky with not a cloud in sight. What made the day even more beautiful was I was on vacation....well sort of. Professor Stevens had left for Sweden this morning to consult with some other scientists on this big experiment she had been working on, one which I had not been made privy. She asked me to meet her at the college in the morning and drive her to the airport. On my way back, she gave me a shopping list of stuff to pick up at a laboratory warehouse and some reports to drop off at two of our sister university labs in the area. Then drive her car back to the college and leave it in her parking space near the lab and her husband would have someone pick it up and drive it their house. I figured, with no diversions, it should take me about four hours, then the rest of the day was mine, along with the next two weeks. The park was empty. This was the time I would be walking home anyway and I rarely saw anyone on my walk home. A purse was sitting on the cobblestone path. I didn't see anyone around, so I knelt down and took the wallet out and opened it. The college ID said "Ashley Stover". I guess, my vacation will have to wait a bit. I'll take the purse to campus security and they notify her to retrieve it. I put the wallet back in the purse and just as I was starting to stand up, I heard a rustle in the foliage.........

[DocRick]

During my tours in Iraq, there were numerous times when an inexperienced insurgent made a noise and alerted us to an impending ambush. Even after all this time, my instincts for survival have not faded. I glanced around quickly, first at about four feet off the ground, which would be chest and gun level of an enemy combatant, then a scan of the trees, finally a low level scan ending at the leaves next to pathway by the purse. I saw a single leave move and a flash of yellow....then I saw a face looking back at me.....up at me, I mean. It was a person, but a very tiny person. I started to think that maybe I should follow up on those letters I've been getting from the VA shrink who wanted me to come in for an appointment. I had heard from a former team member that some of our activities had leaked out to the pencil pushers in the Pentagon and they were trying to get someone from our unit to talk to them. I figured that was what they wanted so I just ignored the letters.

The tiny person turned and started running into the brush. For some reason, maybe because of the ID I just read in the purse, but I called out, "Ashley, don't run. Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you." It, or she, stopped running. Slowly turning around, I saw that was a girl. She stood there for a moment, just looking up at me. I could have made a grab for her, but that wasn't even a thought in my mind.

She took a step forward, scanning my face, I guess to see if she recognized me. Then she said, "How do you know my name?"

"It was on your ID in your purse. I just assumed......." Shit, why did I lie. I recognized her as soon as I saw her face, even though the shock of seeing her so tiny hadn't even started to wear off. Ashley was in one of my classes. She sat one row forward and two chairs to the left of me. If the chair next to her was empty, and I tilted my head just a little, I could get a good look at her legs. Damn, what a pair of legs, from her feet all the way up to that nicely shaped ass. Betty Grable would have been envious of those legs. I've never really been a tit-man, but WOW. I don’t know how I even passed that class. It’s hard to concentrate on listening to the physics professor when you’re fantasizing about an angel sitting not 8 feet away from me. I knew a lot more about her......from a small town in Iowa originally, she was Miss Cornhusker her senior year in High School. She also was a part time model. She could go professional, but she made a vow to complete her bachelor's degree before committing to a career. She was beautiful, not your Hollywood fake beauty, created with a layer of makeup thick enough to stop a 7.62 bullet, but the kind of looks that were as breathtaking first thing in the morning as when she went out on a date. If she went on dates....even though she had a long list of wannabe suitors, she rarely accepted an invitation to go out. She had a couple female friends, but she was basically a loner, kinda like me. In addition to being in my physics class, I saw her walking in the park a few times when I was walking home. The thought of asking her out occurred to me a few times, but she would probably think I was just another one of these guys trying to get into her panties, but the real reason was I didn’t have the chances of a snowball in Hell and I didn’t feel like getting shot down.

“What happened to you?” I asked stupidly. Of course, she doesn’t know. How does a person shrink to the size of a doll?”

“I don’t know. I was just walking and I set down my purse to retie my sandal and THIS !!!”

By now, she had come closer to the path, but still within the leaves and grass on the edge. I could see she was wearing a cute yellow romper with a very short hemline and even when not even three inches long, her legs still rocked.

“What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we should call the police.”

I thought for a moment and didn’t like the thoughts that I was thinking. Stuck in a cage like one of the mice in the laboratory, being poked and prodded by creepy old scientists and young perverted lab technicians.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea. I used to work for the government and if they got their hands on you, I don’t believe your best interests would on their agenda. They would only want to use you to find out how you got so tiny and getting you back to normal would be the furthest thing from their minds.”

“I’m really scared.”

“I know.” I lowered my hand to the ground an inch or so away from her. “Here. Let me help you.”

She stares at my hand. It’s as big as a mattress to her. She’s even backing away a little from it.

“Please. I can’t leave you here. You would be defenseless and there are cats and other predatory animals in these woods. And you might be found by one of the spoiled rotten young punks that are here on Daddy’s expense account. That doesn’t seem to sound too good either. Please, climb onto my hand. We’ll figure out something.”

[DocRick]

Pushing a blade of grass the size of a wooden plank, she stepped up to my hand, looking at it, up and down, from the fingertips to my wrist. Tentatively, she reached out one of her tiny hands and touched my skin, then jerked it back as it was hot. Then she reached out again and put the palm of her hand on my palm. The sensation, though light as a feather, was electric. Her other hand, than one knee, then the other as she climbed aboard my hand. She swiveled so she was sitting and slowly crab walked to the center. I could feel the smooth silky skin of her ass sliding against my skin as the hem of her romper road up, exposing her bare butt. I began to feel a tingly, warmth in my crotch, accompanied with the tightening of my military issue khaki briefs. When she seemed settled, I lifted my hand a few inches off the ground. I could feel her tense up so I stopped and just held her there. She looked up at me and said "I'm really scared. What if I'm stuck being this small for a long time.....maybe forever?" She looked down at my hand and in a soft voice, so soft I could barely hear her, she said, "Will you take care of me?"

The warm tingly feeling in my crotch rose up to my chest. I felt like a rat, cursing my subconscious for thinking such a thing about this poor, terrified tiny girl. I felt a tear start to well up in my eye. A tear? I didn't cry when my parents died, I didn't cry when my best buddy died in my arms, why am I choking up for this pathetic creature sitting in my hand? In the gentlest voice I could muster, I said, "Yes. I'll take care of you. Nothing will happen to you as long as you're with me....."










Then voices, coming from behind us and really close. My fingers instinctively wrapped around the girl, and I lifted her up and deposited her in my shirt pocket, allowing the flap of my windbreaker cover her and the pocket. I lowered my head and said "Shhhhhh" as I turned my head to see to whom the voices belonged. Two college girls were standing right behind me. One of them pointed to the purse and said, "Nice purse. Yours?"

I laughed and said, "No, Gucci is a little to pompous for me. The ID says it belongs to a....Rachel Johnson", pulling the name of my childhood girlfriend out of the blue, " Do either of you lovely ladies know her?" I said as my eyes made an obvious trek from their ankles to their breasts and back down to their ankles.

"Nope."

"I don't."

"Oh, well, I was hoping. I have to get home and let my dog out, then I'll walk it back to security so they can track her down."

The two ladies walked off in a huff, my crude behavior warding off any unwanted further conversation. Pity, actually. Either one looked like they would have enjoyed a good romp. I slowly opened my jacket and used a finger to open the pocket. Looking down at Ashley, scrunched down in the bottom of the pocket, I said, "I'm sorry...really, really sorry. I just don't want to let anyone know about you yet. You know, Professor Stephens, my boss might be able to help. But, dammit, she's on a plane to Sweden." I looked at the watch on the other hand and said, "She should be there in a couple more hours. I'll call her when she's on the ground, but for now, I think we need to get out of here. You may as well just ride in there in case anyone else comes walking by."

I stood up, picking up the the purse and started walking towards my house. I could feel my miniscule passenger moving around in my pocket as I walked.

[DocRick]

We arrive at my house, and I unlock the door and go inside. Locking the door, I set her purse down on the counter, then carefully put one finger into my shirt pocket and pull it open. Ashley is sitting in the bottom, her knees to her chin and arms wrapped tightly around her legs. I ask her to stand up so I can lift her out. Looking at the size of the finger just over her head, she doesn't move, her face still a mask of fear. I try to comfort her, telling her everything will turn out okay. She finally releases her hold on her legs and pushes herself up, leaning into my chest for balance. My heart is thumping rapidly, and I know she can feel it through the thin fabric of my shirt. I can't blame her for being terrified. I can't imagine how she feels. One minute, a grown woman, excelling in her college studies, modeling some of the finest clothing in the world, suddenly tiny and helpless as a baby bird that had fallen from its nest and found by a giant stranger. My finger and now my thumb descend into the pocket and glide along her skin as the tips pass her head and shoulders, then begin to close on her torso, my thumb on her back and my index finger just below her breasts. I try to apply just enough pressure to safely lift her out of my pocket, but not so much as to cause her any pain. As she begins to rise, she wraps her arms around my finger. I can feel her shaking as I raise my hand higher, then just as her feet clear the seam of the pocket, I put my other hand beneath her and lower her onto my palm. Her legs give out and she falls to her butt in the center of my hand. I curl my free hand over her, like handrails on a high balcony and carry her over to my desk. Lowering my hand to the surface, she quickly scampers off of my hand and runs behind the coffee cup I had left there this morning. Only her head and shoulders are visible behind the cup. She was petit before this happened to her, just over five foot. I know the cup is about four inches tall, so she is right around five inches tall.

I always had a thing about short girls. I was six foot three and weighed in around two hundred and ten pounds. I had always dated taller girls, usually at least five-eight or nine, but there was this one girl I dated while I was in the service. She was tiny, about four-nine and barely tipped the scale at 80 pounds. We took a lot of razzing from my buddies and some judgmental strangers, saying I was robbing the cradle even though she was only a year younger than I. She was rather frisky too. She loved it when I would sneak up on her and just take her. I remember one day I stopped at her house while she was in the shower. She had given me a key, so I went in and waited just outside the bathroom door watching her through the crystal-clear shower curtain in the reflection of the mirror. I quietly waited until she finished and stepped out of the shower. She was drying her face with the towel so she didn't see me when I stepped into the bathroom behind her........I grabbed her by the waist, my hands wrapped around her, the fingers of my hands nearly touching. I lifted her effortlessly off the ground, spun her around so she was facing me and plopped her on the sink. I took her right there, banging her pussy as she leaned backwards, arching her back, her head tipped to the ceiling, moaning in pleasure as my, in relationship to her petit body, giant cock rammed in and out of her. Then I lifted her off the sink and still holding her by the waist, I began slide her up and down on my cock like she was merely a sex toy being used like a "pocket pussy" until both of us came. I asked her once why she was attracted to me, dealing with the jokes and comments regarding the differences in our physical stature. She said she likes big men. When I hold her in my arms or just in my hands, she feels she is safe and protected from anything the outside world can throw at her. Is that why I felt so protective over Ashley when I found her hiding in the foliage alongside the path. Or are my feelings rising up from somewhere else?

Now looking at the tiny girl peering at me from behind the coffee cup, I wondered if she could feel the same way. I could pick her up with two fingers, carry her around in just one hand or in my pocket where only I would even know she was there. Wouldn't that make someone feel safe or would it make them feel they are at my mercy and totally helpless if I tried to abuse her.

"Ashley," I said. "Please don't be afraid of me. I would.......could........never hurt you."

[DocRick]

Ashley stepped out from behind the coffee cup. Even though she was wearing that cute little romper, she seemed to be trying to cover up with her hands and arms.

During World War II, in the Pacific Campaign, U.S. Marines and G.I.s would often strip their Japanese prisoners of war. Psychological warfare "experts" promoted this practice as being naked in public not only produced humiliation, but a sense of vulnerability and made the prisoners more docile. This practice continued through the Korean War, the Vietnam War and the two Middle East wars. Perhaps Ashley was feeling more vulnerable, due to her size and instinctively tried to "cover up" her perceived weakness.

I turned and opened one of the kitchen drawers and found a small soft dish rag. I gave it to her, and she immediately wrapped it around her like a robe. She was still in a state of shock with her abrupt change in size and stature. She was looking around the room at the sauna sized coffee cup, the spoon she could use for a surfboard and my laptop, the screen as big as a movie theater screen. I tried to comfort her with some small talk, but she didn't seem to be in the mood for talking. I looked at my watch and saw that Professor Stephens should be on the ground in Sweden now. I dialed her number and after several rings, she picked up. I explained everything that happened. Then Ashley could hear simply a series of "Yes, ma'am", "uh-huh", "right" and "okay"s. I hung up and looked down at my little girl who was looking up at me for answers.....and hope.





I gently reached out and asking permission, scooped her up in my hand and carried her to the living room. She didn't resist, just sat in my hand, clutching the rag tightly to her body. The look on her face turned vacant. Her mind must have been so cluttered with questions it overwhelmed her. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Who is this guy who took me into his home? Are his intentions really honorable? Am I his guest or his captive? Does he know something about what happened to me and he won't admit it? What if this is permanent? Am I still a person or am I something less now?





I sat down on the couch and reclined on my left side, my back all the way against the cushions. I set her down in front of me where she sat quietly, pulling the rag close around her. I offered to make her something to eat, but she said she didn't think she could keep anything down. She now just sat there, having scooted back a little, now leaning her back against my stomach. Since she didn't want to talk, I turned the television on and we watched a movie in silence. By now, it was getting late. I told her I would make her something to sleep on and she could sleep in the living room on the coffee table. Her eyes suddenly opened wide and her mouth dropped open. "No" she yelped. "Please, don't leave me somewhere by myself. I'm scared enough as it is, I don't want to be alone."

[DocRick]

I gently wrapped my fingers under and around Ashley and picked her up as I got up off the couch. I carried her into my bedroom, and stopping at the doorway, I attempted to cheer her up with some levity, saying, "I normally don't take girls into my bedroom on our first date. And my twin bed is barely big enough for one person so don't get any ideas." She tried to force a smile but failed miserably. Mentally kicking myself in the head, I set her down on the nightstand. I walked over to my closet and digging through the pile of linens, I found a blue fleece blanket. I cut a square of the cloth about a foot square and handed it her. It was much softer than the dish rag and she folded it into an impromptu sleeping bag and climbed into it. I laid down on the bed on my side, with my head on the pillow so she could see me a little more "eye to eye" instead of having to look up all the time. For a few minutes we just laid there, she had her head down looking as if she was about to fall apart and me looking at her. My mind became active again as I watched her. I wanted to reach out and take her into my hand and bring her close to me. I wanted to peal off that romper and feel her tiny naked body against my skin. I wanted to feel her bare silky skin as I caressed her with my fingertips.  I wanted to.........

"What did Professor Stephans say when you talked to her on the telephone?" she said, shaking me out of my trance.

"Huh? Oh. She told me not to let anyone know about you. The other professors would not have your best interest in mind and at best, would report "their" discovery to the world. Both of them have huge egos and aspirations for fame and fortune and by keeping you like you are, as the only five-inch-tall person in the world, they would stay in the limelight of scientific community for a long time, getting papers published and maybe even a Nobel prize. If they were able to restore your size, you would fade out of interest rather quickly. At the worst, you would be seized by the government to be studied to see if miniaturization could be used as a weapon. She's going to try to cut her trip short and hopefully be back in a few days. Until then, she wants me to keep you safe and hidden from anyone else."

"Okay. I understand. Maybe tomorrow, you could take me to my apartment so I can get some things.....not sure what, none of my clothes will be fitting me anymore. Maybe some of my bath soaps and shampoo or something."

"Sure. And we can stop into the thrift shop along the way. The last time I was there, there was a bunch of doll things, clothes and and such that may be your size. What is your size now? Junior petit Miss?"

"Not funny mister..........Hey, I don't want to sleep in this outfit, seeing it's the only thing I have to wear right now. Do you have a handkerchief or something?"

"I'm sure I do. Let me see if I can find one. I'm not the best housekeeper in the world as you can tell."

I got out of bed and rummaged through a dresser drawer until I found one, a silk one at that. I brought it over to her and she asked me to tear a piece about three inches wide and a strip about half an inch wide. I did as she asked and handed it to her.

She sat there for a moment, then said, "Turn around, please."

[DocRick]

"Okay, you can turn around. What do ya think?"

I turned around and when I saw she had created a teddy, sort of, from the pieces of the handkerchief, my tongue got stuck in my throat and all I could say was, "Looks nice."

Again, fighting the urges that keep wanting to materialize, I asked, "Hey. I'm hungry. You?"

"I guess so.....yeah, I'm a little hungry. I should eat something anyway."

I told her to sit tight, and I walked, no, I staggered to the kitchen and splashed some cold water on my face to defuse my rising libido. After drying my face with a dish towel, I opened the fridge and perused what I had that she might want, or more precisely, COULD eat. I found block of cheese and a couple strawberries. I cut the cheese into small pieces and the strawberry in half, placing both of them on a napkin. I took the cap off a water bottle and thought she could use it to drink from, then I noticed a bottle wine I had purchased a few months ago, but when the girl I had asked out that night didn't show up, the bottle just sat on the kitchen counter, so I had to wipe the dust off of it before opening it. The question of how much wine would a five-inch-tall girl need to drink before losing her inhibitions...... I smacked my fist into my forehead. Stop it. This girl is in real trouble and right now, I'm the only one she has......and she's the only one I want. I almost reached into the freezer to grab a handful of ice cubes and drop them into my briefs. She really needs a friend right now......a friend......God, I couldn't handle being in the "friendzone" with Ashley, at five inches or five feet. I'm sure that if Professor Stephens is able to restore her to her normal size, our "relationship" would end. The longest relationship I've ever been able to maintain was for four months. That was with that really short girl, and I think I kept that one going more out of the fantasy than emotional attachment. What if Professor Stephens is unable to restore her size? Would she want to stay with me.....forever? Could I handle spending the rest of my life with a girl small enough to hold in the palm of my hand? I closed my eyes tight, trying to force these thoughts out of my mind. I had gotten rather good at forcing some of the bad memories of my time in Iraq out when something brought them back. Why can't I do it now? I opened the bottle of wine, gathered up the napkin, food, bottle cap and the plate I had made for myself, and went back into the bedroom. She tried to move the blanket, but it fell off of the nightstand. I set the napkin down and she climbed on top of it. I poured a little wine into a Red Solo cup, then a little into the bottle cap. We nibbled on the food. She looked cute holding the chunks of cheese and strawberry, still looking huge at her diminutive size, looking more like a cute little mouse than an incredibly sexy young lady. We chatted a little more until the wine began to make my eyelids as heavy as the guilt I was feeling for thinking the thoughts that I just couldn't force to the back of my mind. Obviously, intercourse would be out of the question. My dick is bigger than she is for God's sake. But I've always been good at eating pussy. I wonder if she would taste as sweet or even sweeter at this size...........I could just reach over, grab her and tear that little outfit off of her. She wouldn't be able to stop me as I suck on those grape-sized tits, then put her in my mouth and started working her over with my tongue, forcing her thighs apart, the tip of my tongue running up and down her thighs and ass, then seeking her honey hole as she screams and squirms, trying to get free..........

[DocRick]

"Hey! I kinda knocked my bed on the floor. How 'bout a hand? I can't reach it."

I snapped out of my obscene fantasy. I saw Ashley kneeling on the precipice of the nightstand, staring into the chasm between it and my bed. I rolled over and reached down and picked up the blue piece of fleece she had made into a sleeping bag.

"I guess it's not too safe for you to sleep up here without guardrails. I got an idea." I got up and found a small box in one of my desk drawers from a package I had received a while back. I folded up the fleece and put in the bottom of the box, then folded the remains of the silk handkerchief do she could use it as a blanket. Shit.....I could have used this as an excuse for her to sleep on the bed with me. It would be nice to have her curled up under my chin. Just a little tilt of my head and I could have my nose close enough to smell her hair. I could have said that I needed to have my hand cupped around her, my fingers touching her thighs or maybe her ass, for safety. Dammit. Why was I such a f*cking Boy Scout? "Here, how's this? Just don't close the lid.....it would feel like you're sleeping in a coffin."

She climbed over the side of the box and laid down on the fleece. Not bad she said as I draped the handkerchief over her. She pulled it around her and snuggled down. Then, she abruptly sat up and looked over at me.

"Thank you for taking care of me. I hope I'm not a burden or anything."

"No, not at all. It's been kinda nice having someone around to talk to for a change. You better try to get some sleep. It's been a rough day for you. Good night."

She said good night and rolled back over. I couldn't sleep. I laid on the bed, my eyes watching her back slightly rising and falling as she breathed. She slept fitfully at first, then her breathing slowed to a regular rhythm as exhaustion won over. I watched her for an hour. Then, I reached over and lifted the handkerchief off of her. Her "teddy" had untied and slipped off. I reached over and ever so gently touched her back just below her neck then ran my finger lightly down her back to top of her ass. Then I replaced the handkerchief over her and laid my head back on my pillow.

[DocRick]

My brain went from 0 to 100 immediately when I woke up. No morning grogginess or brainfog, instantly awake and alert. I picked this up during my time in combat. You don't sleep much when you're in hostile territory, but you do need to take catnaps to keep your brain and body functioning, but you can't afford to be confused if shit kicks up while you're dozing. My right hand was reaching towards the box on my nightstand, like it was my M-4. But this morning, I stopped before grabbing it. I was not in a warzone and this was not a rifle, it was a tiny girl, named Ashley.

She was still asleep. I don't know how, but she was. I barely slept at all, maybe I got an hour of sleep total. Still, I was wide awake. I quietly got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot, that lifesaving machine that has started my mornings for the last ten years, give or take a century. Then to the bathroom to get the funk out of my mouth. I looked into the mirror at the guy I look at every morning. No judgement, no alcaldes, just me. The sun was shining in the window, like every morning. I knew the sky was still blue and the ground was still solid. But the sun doesn't know you exist. The sky doesn't give a rat's ass about you and the ground only wants you to die so it can reclaim the nutrients you steal from it every day. You really don't matter to anyone or anything but yourself.....usually. Today is different. I matter to someone, and someone matters to me, for totally opposite reasons.

I brush my teeth and splash some water on my face. I look at me in the mirror. God, I look old. Does every 28 year old have bags under their eyes like those I see in the mirror? The scar under my eye is mocking me. It knows I should have died that day, but for some reason, I had turned my head, and the bullet only grazed me instead of going deep into my skull and turning my brain into oatmeal. Must be some reason my life was spared that day.

On my way back to the kitchen, I peek into the bedroom. She's still asleep. I pour myself a cup of coffee, then grab a cup of OJ out of the fridge, a dishtowel, a dishrag, and a bottle cap and put them on the island in the middle of the kitchen. I find a medicine cup and an eyedropper in the cupboard and a packet of Listerine strips in my go-bag and add them to the mix, after filling the cup with hot soapy water. I finish my first cup of coffee and refill the mug that had been given to me by one of my Marine brothers.

She's still asleep when I go back into the bedroom. I don't want her to wake up alone. To wake up and find you're no longer in the same world you have lived on your entire life would shock anyone. It would be like living in the U.S. your entire life and waking up in Australia where every living thing around you wants to kill you !!! I gently pick up her box/bed and carry it into the kitchen. She begins to stir as I walk through the door, then sits up and stretches. She rubs her eyes then opens them......and screams.

[DocRick]

Ashley looked like one of those squirrels in the middle of a busy street.....her torso snapping back and forth and down, looking for an escape, screaming at the top of her little lungs. Then, abruptly the screaming ended, and she began sobbing. And I mean sobbing....her entire body rocking as she wailed. I learned a long time ago that a crying girl wants to be held...by someone....anyone. My sister (don't judge me) taught me this when I was a teenager, whenever she would have a bad breakup with one of her many boyfriends and sought me out to console her. In my younger days, oh say four or five years ago, my buddies and I would go out to one of the clubs off base and I would actively scan the room for the inevitable boyfriend-girlfriend fight. If the girl stormed out, I would sneak out and find her in the parking lot. If the guy walked out, I would casually coax her into the hallway and proceed to "comfort" her. When they were really hysterical, their entire body would rock with the sobs. If nothing else, with a careful tactical maneuver of my hips, I could get a dryhump out of it, or if I worked it just right, breakfast the next morning. To me, it was as natural as lining up the front and read sights of my rifle, pulling the trigger and watching my target drop to the ground. But this time, I didn't know what to do......

I extended the index finger of my other hand and reached towards her, from which she recoiled and nearly started screaming again. I quickly pulled it back and while I calculated my next move, I heard her say "Hold me". If she was normal sized, I would reach out with one hand and take hold of one of her shoulders, while I stepped in and enveloped her with my other arm, pulling her into me. Under these circumstances, this didn't seem to be a viable option. So, I reached out with my free hand and placed it, palm up next to the box that had served as her bed, still in my other hand, assuming she would crawl over the side of the box and onto my palm. She just sat there and repeated, a little louder, "Hold me." I was still trying to figure out what to do when she stood up and almost yelling, "HOLD ME". Fearing she was going to lose her balance and fall, I tipped my hand thumb up and brought it above the bed. With the palm of my and towards her back, my fingers curled on one side of her, my thumb on the other, I slowly closed my hand into a loose fist, encircling her body. The middle pad of my index finger pressed against her tits, and she brought her elbows and forearms down on top of it. I slowly raised my hand as her feet left the surface of the box, she had to grasp my finger to keep from falling through my fingers. Dropping the box-bed from my other hand, I put that hand beneath her, raising it just so her feet lightly stood on the palm. "HOLD ME" she said again, and I tightened my grip slightly, afraid that I would crush her like a bug. I could feel her bare ass brushing against the skin of my palm, her tits pressing into my finger as she held tightly to it and her toned muscular legs wrapped within the other three fingers. Her entire body was shaking in my hand which enclosed her, only her head, shoulders and arms visible above and her feet and ankles from below. She was still crying hysterically and repeated "hold me....." in softer, pleading voice. I tightened my grip as much as I dared and her body ceased its thrashing, but I could still feel the trembling of her muscles as she cried...........

[DocRick]

She cried for a few more minutes, her sobbing gradually subsiding to slow, deep breaths. She finally looked up at me and said she was sorry she broke down. It was just when she woke up, she thought this had all been a bad dream, then when she saw the arena sized kitchen, she lost it.

Unfortunately, I'm no stranger to this. While I have put most of my military life behind me, I still have flashbacks, usually when I see something that reminds me of some horrific scene I witnessed in Iraq, but sometimes the faces of the dead, the faces of my friends and comrades, other times the faces of the insurgents we had killed, looking at me with accusatory looks, as if it was my fault they were dead,.....and for a few it was, or they were coming at me to take me back to Hell with them. Bolting awake, drenched in sweat, reaching for my rifle that was no longer there as it had always been there at my side back then. But for me, these were things in the past. Hidden deep inside my mind, only to resurface in my subconscious. They were over. Buried. Finished........ Her nightmare was the reality of what was happening right here and now.

I lowered my hand to the top of the island and gently loosened my grip as her feet touched down. Her "teddy" had been practically ripped away from her body and as my fingers opened, I got my first look at her tits and pussy. Her tits, once massive and proud, were now the size of grapes. She had trimmed her bush to a simple "landing strip", barely visible at her size, and the lips of her pussy were cleanly shaved. She tried in vain to cover up with her hands. Seeing her nearly naked, and so vulnerable in her diminutive size, she looked even hotter than she did sitting at her desk in class when I would undress her with my imagination. I had to suppress a thought that was developing in my mind....okay, I'm lying, the feeling was located much farther south than my brain. I was having feelings that I had never really had before. Sure, when one of my Marines were wounded, I instinctively protected them, but this was so different. I didn't really feel a sense of pity for her current condition or even what I imagined a parent would feel towards an ill child. Just a feeling that I was now her protector....her guardian, HER WORLD and personally responsible for keeping the wolves away from the door. And......maybe.......something even a little deeper.

"Uh, would you mind handing me that handkerchief?"

Reality came back and I think I may have blushed a little. Averting my eyes, I reached to the bed-box and picked up the handkerchief and handed to her. She wrapped it around her and sat down. She was looking down as my eyes came back to her. "I'm sorry. It's just.........."

I cut her off. "There's no need to apologize. I can't say I know how you feel, but I think I can understand. I really don't mind. For what you're going through, you've been a real trooper. Anytime you need a shoulder......" F*ck. That was a stupid thing to say......a shoulder? Seriously? She could sit on my shoulder like a parakeet.....a hand?.......a finger?......... "anything........I'm here."

[DocRick]

Over the course of my life, I have picked up an abundance of "skills". Some I no longer have a need for, things that polite society frowns upon, others that have made my life, as well as other people's lives, easier and even more enjoyable. Cooking is not prominent amongst my talents. Sure, I can grill a steak or burgers and I have learned to make a killer chicken paprikash, but most of my meals come out of cans. However, breakfast is another story. I love breakfast, always loved breakfast and on the occasions that I have.....company in the mornings, I go all out. This morning was no different. While Ashley hung out on the table, I cooked up some eggs, sausage, gravy and biscuits and toast, way too much for 1 and 1/12 of a person. We ate most of it anyway, I would slice tiny pieces of everything and slide it to the edge of the plate so Ashley could eat, even though she had to use her hands as I had nothing she could use as silverware. I have to admit she looked cute wearing a strip of handkerchief as a sarong and watching her lick and suck her tiny fingers clean while sitting on the edge of my plate, what if she accidently fell into the food.....I had to stop myself when I suddenly realized I was licking some gravy off of my own fingers and I couldn't help but wonder if she noticed and gave her any ideas...........

[DocRick]

We talked a bit during breakfast. Since Professor Stephens wouldn't be back for a couple days, we needed to do something to make Ashley more comfortable. She asked me to take her to her apartment so she could get some things, shampoos, conditioner, body oils, and stuff that she liked to keep her hair and skin soft, but most of her stuff wouldn't be much use to her at her present size. Of course, I agree. I figure she can ride in my shirt pocket so no one will see her. And there's a resale store downtown that had some doll stuff someone donated after their child outgrew them....outgrew them......would Ashley ever "outgrow" doll sized clothes? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life the size of a doll? I didn't want to say anything that would crush her spirits, but would Professor Stephens be able to help her? We don't even know what happened. How do you fix something that you don't even understand how it "broke"?

I still couldn't believe she was doing as well as she was. Trapped in a totally alien world, completely dependent on, and at the mercy of, a giant man she barely knows. She even smiled a few times this morning and laughed at one of my stupid jokes. We finished eating and I started putting everything away when she asked to see my finger. I didn't understand what she meant and she told me to put my finger down on the island. I extended my index finger and began to touch the surface of the island when she grabbed it and wrapped both arms around my finger and squeezed it as tightly as her little muscles would allow, holding her entire body against it in what you would call a bearhug, if she was normal sized.......

We had just searched a small village in Iraq that had been retaliated against by the insurgents for cooperating with the government troops. We thought there were no survivors as bodies of men, women and children, some shot, some stabbed or beheaded, other burned to death, lying all over the place as a warning to other civilians. Then, I heard a small sound, like a whimper coming from a hooch. I went back and searched it again and found a baby that had been hidden by its parents when the insurgents attacked the village. I picked it up and after checking and finding no injuries, I had the RTO call for a medevac. While we were waiting for the helicopter, I played with the baby. I had zero experience with babies, but it felt rather natural. Maybe someday, I'll get out of this business I'm in, find a nice girl, settle down and we'll have babies of our own. Playfully poking at the baby with my finger, it reached out and grabbed hold of it, squeezing it with its tiny little fingers.........that long buried memory came back as Ashley was hugging my finger......but the feelings I got from it was totally different than the feelings I had sitting in the sand far, far away from this life. While I was a poor substitute for its mother, the baby was naturally just seeking comfort from me. Any port in a storm, as the old saying goes. But what was Ashley feeling.........was I just that, a refuge from the nightmare that had befallen her, or was there something else?

[DocRick]

Then I feel something on my finger......soft little touches.....like a butterfly walking on your hand. I look down and Ashley is kissing my finger. She's loosened her grip on my finger slightly, but not letting go. She bends her knees slightly, then stands again. I can feel her body rubbing against my finger. She bends and stands....bends and stands....twisting her upper body slightly to the left and right....I can feel her nipples on my skin as they get harder and harder, first the right tit, then the left. Her "sarong" has ripped from her body and lying at her feet. I can hear her softly signing then she thrusts her hips forward and I can feel her pussy gliding along my finger. Her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, soft moans getting louder. She drops to her butt and pulls my finger between her legs. Holding tightly to my finger, she pulls herself up and begins grinding her hips against my finger. She releases her hold on my finger, on her back, lifting herself and rocking back and forth, her juices lubricating my finger. The ridges from my fingerprints are massaging her clitoris. I rotate my hand slightly, lowering it parallel to her and the table. She wraps her legs around my finger, pulling it harder into her and she lifts her hips to meet it. I start rubbing my fingertip into her as her moans turn to cries of "Oh....oh.....oh....oh god, don't stop....don't stop.....Just the tip of my finger, less than one square inch of my body to bringing Ashley to climax.....She grinds harder, more rapidly, frantically, begging me to take her over the top. Her head rolls back, her tiny fists are beating the top of the table, her feet slap the table as she gives one last upward thrust of her hips, then she screams........
































"Hey !!! Where you at?"

[DocRick]

Reality flooded back like a tidal wave. Ashley and I had finished breakfast and had gotten dressed, she back in her original yellow romper, I put on a pair of old jeans and a jean shirt. I had carried her to the back porch, sat down in one of the chairs and set her down on my knee. She crawled over to a spot where the jean material had worn out and tore. Sitting on my bare skin while she held on to the frayed threads for balance, I could feel the warm soft skin of her butt and the tickle when she brushed against my hairs.

"Hello? We were planning on going to my apartment so I could get some things. We still on?"

Sheepishly, I looked down at her and said, "Yes. Of course. We also need to find you some other things to wear for now. There's a store on the way we can stop at and see what we can find for you." I wondered if my face revealed what I had just daydreamed. The bulge in my jeans would be a telltale sign, but my jeans are a little small and rather tight. I don't think she noticed, if she did, she's not acting like it. I'm still a little baffled as to how well she's taking being so tiny. Most people would be in a constant state of terror. Being so vulnerable to anything, a cat, a bird, hell even a spider would be terrifying at her size. She seems to be so comfortable sitting in the palm of my hand or now on top of my thigh. She's so high off the ground, a fall would definitely kill her, yet she seems oblivious to the danger. I flashback to sitting in class. She always seemed so confident, so at ease with the instructor and other students, chatting away like old friends. Even now, despite this morning's outburst, she seems so calm. Almost happy.......

"I'm sorry. I must be such a burden to you. You probably had plans for your time off and I barged in with my troubles and ruined it."

I looked down at her. She was looking down at my leg, her hand fiddling with the frayed edges around the hole in my jeans. My hand reached out and I stroked her hair....like petting a puppy or kitten......

"Please don't worry about it. I really didn't have any plans at all. In fact, I really didn't want to take the time off. I didn't know what I was going to do with myself. I've never been good at making plans. You know the old saying, 'You want to make God laugh? Make plans.' I've always done better at just letting things happen and dealing with them, good or bad. Spontaneous, I guess you would call it. Just letting life go where it goes and running along with it to see what is gonna happen next."

"I've never been like that." she said. "I'm never comfortable with uncertainty. I always....well, I used to......plan out every day from waking up to going to sleep. Now.......me making plans seems rather futile." She raised her head and looked up into my eyes. "I can't do anything on my own like this. I have to depend on you now."

[DocRick]

I didn't know how to respond so I just said, "I guess we should go now. You can ride in my shirt pocket. Here, these sunglasses will give you something to hide behind, but you can still see what's around. But if someone starts talking to me, duck down, okay?"

"Okay." Ashley responds. "This is kinda weird, but it's comfortable. "

I lock the door and we start walking towards the town. It's not far, only a half mile or so. No one is around so Ashley hangs over the edge of the pocket so she can look around. It's another nice day, sunshine, no clouds and not getting too hot yet. The weatherman says a heat wave is coming in a few days. The house I'm.....we're living in is shaded and its thick stone walls keeps it cool in the summer and warm in the winter. Too bad they don't make houses like that anymore. It would save on energy usage and pollution, I guess. If we could just keep the cows from farting.....

"What's so funny?", she asks.

I guess she could feel it when I chuckled at my cow fart joke. "Nothing. Nothing at all." I reply.

Finally, we hit the edge of the downtown district. More people are out and about, and I give her a reminder if she sees anyone approaching us.

"Hey. How are you this morning?" comes from behind us in an overly cheerful feminine voice. I stop and turn and see it's one of the girls in my class. Nineteen, cute, and bubbly if you're into bubbly. Only nine years older than she and I feel like I could be her father.

"Oh, hi. Simone, right? I'm doing all right. Looking forward to these two weeks off." Shit. Why did I say I'm off?

"How do you think you did on that final? I think I did okay. It was pretty hard."

"The final? Oh, the final exam.......I think I did all right. I studied quite a bit for it."

"So that's why I never see you downtown. I thought maybe you had some hot girl in that cool house you live in."

Cool house? She knows where I live? "No, no hot girls in there. Some mice maybe, a raccoon I think may be living in the attic and a skunk may be hiding out in the basement." I lie to her, trying to get this conversation ended.

"Oh....." She said with a grimace. "Well, I gotta go. See ya around. A bunch of us are meeting at O'Rielly's tonight. Feel free to stop in."

"Okay. I'll think about it. Bye."

As we walked away, I felt a poke in one of my ribs. "You ass. She was so flirting with you."

"Was she? I didn't notice. Besides, she's not my type......too tall."

Another poke in the ribs, this time a tiny bit harder. "Not funny."

[DocRick]

We arrive at the thrift shop. Going in, there is so much stuff in here, it's hard to find anything, so I just start wandering the aisles. "Keep low" I told Ashley. "There's a few people in here."

I feel her scrunch down a bit. "If I see anything and no one's around, I'll let you know if you can pop up and look.Nothing in the first couple aisles, then I see some doll stuff. Mostly Barbie Doll things, too big for Ashley's five inch frame. I whisper that it's safe to come out and she pulls herself over the rim of my pocket.

She looks at the Barbie stuff and says, "No, that's way too big for me."

"Can I help you?" comes a voice from behind. I turn, but not towards her, but turn my back to her, giving Ashley a moment to duck back down. Then I turn the rest of the way around, facing the store clerk, a very nice looking lady about 35 or so.

"Uh, I'm looking for something for my niece. Her great grandfather, my grandfather, that is, built her a dollhouse a year ago. He also carved her some very nice articulated dolls. She doesn't care for the commerical doll clothes and stuff, so I'm looking for some handmade doll clothes or something like that."

"How big are the dolls? Barbie size? Bigger? Smaller?"

I raised my right hand and extended my index finger, thinking back to this morning when Ashley hugged it. I know my finger is just over three inches long and she's about two inches taller than it. "About five inches tall, I think."

She smiled and said, "Follow me. I think we have something you.....I mean, she might like."

[Rusco57]

Good story so far.

[DocRick]

Good story so far.

Thanks.

[DocRick]

The lady led us back into the store and through a doorway. This was not part of the thrift shop but a separate establishment. It was an actual doll shop. I saw dollhouses, from extravagant large houses to more simple plastic ones. Lots of doll size furniture and dolls of various sizes, from a few inches to two feet tall. I think she was trying to get me to buy more than just clothing as she would pause at the more expensive items. I had to admire her efforts. I pretended to stop, kneel down and retie my shoelace. I whispered to Ashley, "Stay behind the glasses. If you see something you like, punch me once. If you don't, twice." She looked up at me and nodded.

There was a case of loose clothing on a shelf. Looked like Barbie stuff. Too big for Ashley anyway. Nonetheless, I paused in front of it and felt two punches. As Ashley turned back and forth in my pocket, I felt her back brushing my nipple through the fabric of my shirt.....I had always wondered about nipples on a guy. Do they serve a purpose? None than I could think of, other than decorations. While taking the anatomy and physiology part of Hospital Corpsman school, I had lots of questions about the human body, but questions I didn't dare ask. I didn't want to look like an idiot in front of the other guys and girls. Questions like, why do humans have hair on their heads, armpits and crotch, but with a few exceptions, nowhere else? Yeah, the Italian sailor had a full chest of hair, but most of the guys, those of African American, European and Asian roots, had only a few sparse wisps of hair on their chests, and of course the women had none. Fingernails and fingerprints were remains of our earliest ancestors that needed them for digging for grubs or roots and holding on to things, but I wasn't really sure if they were still necessary. Belly buttons served no purpose after birth after the umbilical cord was cut, but I've known a few girls who had piercings there, and their nipples, but again, just as ornamentation, not as a function body part. And back to nipples.....why on a guy? Women have them to breast feed, but as far as I know, guys have never had that job. I realized as Ashley's body was brushing against mine, they were getting hard. I never noticed that when I was with normal sized girls........my upper brain was trying to tell me that I had to protect this tiny girl that wandered into my life, like I was her father or big brother, but my lower brain was sending different signals.

[DocRick]

Then, a shelf of handmade doll clothes, laid out in a nice display. They looked to be about the size a five inch doll, or a five inch human girl, would wear. As I paused in front of them, I felt one punch. "These look about the right size. And nice quality......handmade?"

The lady said, "These are all made by a lady in the local old folk's home. I let her sell them on consignment to help her supplement her social security. Are there any ones you....your niece, would like?"

I felt one punch, a pause and one punch, a pause and another punch. "All of them." I saw the lady's eyes light up a little. Unfortunately, there were no doll shoes of this quality, just plastic commercially made ones, but I bought a handful of those, hoping they would fit Ashley's tiny, cute feet. It's not like she's going to going for long hikes in the woods, but she might want something on her feet sometimes.

The lady began to gather up the doll clothes and shoes, carefully placing them in a bag so they wouldn't get wrinkled. "You must be very fond of your niece."

I felt some movement in my pocket. "Yes, she's a great......little girl."..............one punch.

[DocRick]

I pick up a few other things......a couple of knitted dresses that might be a little warmer for Ashley, some tiny glasses and cups and crocheted blanket about 7 inches square made of thin yarn. I looked for some furniture like a chair, couch or bed but they didn't have anything in stock. I paid for the items and we walked back out into the sunshine.

"Thanks for all that stuff. I'll pay you back."

"Don't worry about it. I just want you to be as comfortable as possible until............." I didn't know what to say. 'Until you're back to normal'? Can the professor do that. I just don't know. I don't want to build her hopes up, nor do I want to crush her spirits with the thought that she was going to stay tiny forever. Or that having a tiny girl around wouldn't be that bad...for me. Even at five inches, she's hot....really hot. I guess that's why she is, or was, a part time model. I wouldn't mind having a private fashion show with her as the model. I would have to find some really sexy clothes for her...a slinky dress, maybe made from some sheer material, like gauze or something. She'd look hot in a burlap sack.......or nothing at all............

"We're here."

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Which apartment?"

"Number 4. The entry code is 4832 to get in the main door. You did remember to grab my keys out of my purse, didn't you? she said with just a bit of sarcasm in her voice.

"Yes, Dear." Okay, did I say that sarcastically, or calling Ashley 'Dear' mean something.......to either of us.

I walked up to her apartment and went in. There was no one in the building, at least in the hallways, which was good. Not sure I could explain why I was going into a girls apartment alone.......SHIT. Are there any security cameras? Sooner or later, Ashley is gonna be reported missing and if I'm on camera going into her apartment, I would be suspect numero uno. Why didn't I think of this before going in?

"Ashley......are there any security cameras for your building?"

"Cameras? I don't think so......no, there aren't any. The landlord told me that when I first rented this place. Told me to be careful, especially at night because of that."

"Okay. Good." I said as I went inside her apartment. Her apartment was rather spartan. A couch, a small table next to it and no television. Just a few decorations on the wall.

"Hey. I wanna see some of the clothes you picked up." She stood as tall as she could in my pocket, her arms raised over her head. I set the bag down and reached into the pocket, my thumb and index finger closing on her sides beneath her armpits. I slowly lifted her out, Ashley clutching my finger, then turned my hand slightly so she ended up sitting in my palm. I just looked at her for a moment as she adjusted herself. God, she was cute....and gorgeous. She felt so light in my hand, seemingly lighter than any of the lab mice at the college.

"Over there....on the table", pointing at the table by the couch. Reluctantly, I set her down on the table, tilting my hand so she slid off like going down a child's slide. "Could you put some of the clothes down here?" I pulled a handful of the clothes out and set them down. She picked up each piece and one by one, spread them out on the table. She started unfastened her romper, then stopped. She turned to me and said, "Ummm....would you mind?" making a circular motion with her finger.

"Oh. Sorry." I said, turning my back to her. After a few moments, she said to look and when I turned, she was sitting on the table in one of the dresses. "Nice." I said. "That looks cute on you."

"Not bad. Fits pretty good and the material is soft. Okay, what do I need from here?" I don't have much, at least that I can actually use anymore. Oh, in the bedroom. In the closet, top shelf on the right.....a brown envelope. I keep my cash there. Could you get that for me?"

"Sure." I left her in the living room and proceeded to the bedroom. Mattress on the floor and an alarm clock. Well, neither of these will be of any importance to her now. A book. "The Secret World of Arrietty"? What? I saw "The Borrowers" movies when I was a kid. Maybe this is why she seems to be adjusting to being tiny so quickly? Maybe I shouldn't say anything just yet. I'll just take the book with me. I walked to the closet and found the envelope. I took a look at her clothes and shoes. Nothing spectacular......at least hanging in the closet. I'm sure they looked spectacular when she was wearing them. "Okay if I come back in the living room?"