Beyond the Hall of Mirrors
The room was nearly pitch black. Pale blue light filtered in from behind a heavy curtain, illuminating almost nothing. Abigail let her eyes adjust as she held the tiny witch to her breast. “Well this is cozy. Don’t suppose there’s a light somewhere?”
“I um,
wanted to set up some mood lighting. There are candles by the bedside table. Could you light them? They’re too big for me just now.”
Abigail
gave the witch a kiss on her little cheek, and set her on the bed. She felt her way through the room, almost
tripping over a pile of laundry, and finally found the table. She searched blindly, and closed her hand over
a lighter. There were three candles,
thin and green. Abigail lit them each.
When she
turned, Eve was bigger. Perhaps half her
size, and still growing. “I hope you
don’t mind. It was good earlier, when
you were towering over me. But I have
other ideas, and they don’t involve me being small.”
“I’m
always down for a little more Eve.”
The
witch laughed, projecting confidence again so suddenly that it was almost as if
a switch had been thrown. She jumped off
the bed, big enough now that her head reached the bottom of Abby’s chest. By the time she closed the distance between
them, the woman reached her shoulder. And when Eve pulled her in for an embrace, the
two of them were almost the same height.
“I’m
very proud,” Eve said. “To have you as
my team captain. But for now, I’m going
to take charge. I know you missed
looking up at me. So let’s take care of
that, shall we?”
They
were eye-to-eye. Then the witch was
taller.
Abigail
whimpered.
The
woman leaned in, nuzzling her gently with the tip of her nose. There was a hand on her waist, warm lips just
beneath her ear. Eve touched her, and
each place she touched felt exactly right, almost too perfect. Abigail felt herself responding helplessly,
her heart thudding in her chest as Eve continued to grow before her.
The
first kiss was less than a feather’s touch. There was almost no movement to it. Just the barest sensation of Eve's lips
against hers. Eve stared into her eyes
from less than an inch away, holding her in stasis by her inaction, letting the
quiet of the moment linger. And then all
at once she was upon her. Kissing her
with a savage abandon unlike anything she’d seen from the woman before. The passion between them was a physical force,
a torrent driving her backward, forcing her to swim along or be swept away.
Abigail
was on tiptoe. Straining higher and
higher. She reached for the woman,
yearned for her, tried her best to keep up even as the witch swelled into
immensity. Eve helped her balance for a
time, but soon the size difference was too much, and Abigail slid down the
woman’s chest, laughing at the absurdity of it.
The
witch smirked down at her, green eyes twinkling with mirth. Well over a head taller, and continuing to
rise.
“So, one
of the pictures I sent you was from about this angle,” Eve said. She used her arms to letterbox herself, one
high, blocking out her eyes, the other at the base of her chest. She licked her lips in a provocative, hungry
gesture, holding the pose for a moment. “In the picture, I was wearing a lot less
clothing. And I was bigger. Relatively speaking. Say about… here.”
The
witch surged in a sudden burst. In an
instant, Abigail’s head hardly reached the woman’s navel anymore.
“That’s
getting a little closer to re-creating the effect. I could take off my shirt, and get us all the
way there. But you’re getting naked
first. Strip, little lady.”
Eve gave
her a playful slap on the butt, then stood back. She crossed her arms expectantly and continued
to grow, an impatient look on her face.
Abigail
did as she was ordered, feeling faintly disoriented. This was happening so fast, and with the
sudden shift in the woman’s size and attitude, it was hard to get her bearings.
But there was no denying that Eve was
pressing all her buttons, and it felt really, really good.
A giddy
smile on her face, she undressed for Eve. Her body looked a bit different under her
clothes than she remembered, with the two or three additional cup sizes Dylan
had given her. But that apparently
wasn’t all – her waist was slimmer, her hips a touch wider. Her legs were longer, too.
She’d
have to thank the little guy tomorrow.
“Dylan
is really special,” Eve agreed, picking up on the emotion. “I’ve never felt anything quite like that. Having my own magic used by someone else. I felt so connected to the two of you while it
was happening. And may I say, I loved
the way you handled him. You played him
like a kinky little fiddle. It was very
inspiring.”
Something
tugged at her mind. The way Eve was
acting. It felt oddly familiar. A moment later it clicked into place: Eve was
treating her the way she herself had treated Dylan. Playing a role to find the confidence she
needed.
Before
she could investigate that thought, something else struck her – the reason she
was so disoriented.
“Eve. Am I getting smaller?”
The
witch laughed, and cupped Abby’s cheek affectionately with a very large hand. “No, sweetie. I’m just outgrowing you. And so is the room. It’s enchanted to match the size of the
largest person in it – just like the shop.”
Abigail
looked around the space. The walls
continued to expand away from her, and the top of the bed was rising past her
shoulder as Eve gained height.
“It
makes me feel tiny, though.”
Eve
stopped growing at once. Her eyes moved
rapidly as they studied Abigail’s face. “And you don’t like that. Sorry. You wanted me big, but you didn’t want to be
small. Got it. So, um. I can be tiny instead. Even smaller than before. How does that make you feel?”
“Eve. Stop.” She motioned with her finger. “Come down here.”
Abigail
had meant, bend over. Eve shrank toward
her instead, until she appeared just a few inches taller than her.
“I want
you, at whatever size you want to be.”
Eve
blinked several times, looking flustered.
“That’s
hard?”
“Um. Yeah. It is.”
Abigail
took her hand. “Then I want you… my
height. I want to be your equal for
this.”
Eve
nodded gratefully. She dwindled, until
the two of them were face-to-face again.
“You
don’t have to pretend to be anything. I
want you – the real you.”
“Sorry,”
the witch said.
“I want
to try something. I think it might help
you get out of your head. Or you know,
out of my head. Would that be
okay?”
Eve
smiled. “Please.”
Abby
kissed her. And as she kissed, she tried
to capture the intensity of her feelings for the woman. The sensation of Eve’s lips against hers, the
raw emotion she felt crackling between them whenever they were together. Translating it, consciously sending it back to
Eve with all her might. Letting her feel
this moment, this experience, as she held her in her arms.
She
broke the kiss only long enough to pull off Eve’s clothes. Yanking her green wool sweater over her head,
tugging down her jeans and using her foot to push them past her ankles. She threw herself back into Eve’s embrace,
almost tackling her as she stripped off her bra. Abigail tossed the garment away and shoved
herself against Eve, making as much skin-to-skin contact as possible, all the
while focusing on what it was like to be with the woman, the way it made her
feel. In essence, helping Eve to know
what it was like to be with Eve.
The
witch accepted all of it enthusiastically. Kissing her back, clinging to her tightly as
Abigail touched her. But as it went on,
she seemed less and less present. Her
eyes grew cloudy, her expression slack. Abigail could feel Eve’s breath against her
face, hot and shallow and very fast. Eve
was trying desperately to keep up, but her movements were slow, uncoordinated. It was as if the witch was becoming drunk.
Abigail
suddenly understood what was happening. She had trapped Eve in a feedback loop. Far from letting the woman feel her own
feelings, she had simply overwhelmed her, distorted everything into
incomprehensibility.
This was
going to be harder than she thought. But
Abigail had another idea.
“Let’s
slow things down. Okay?”
Eve
stared at her vacantly, mouth hanging open. She licked her lips, looking around in
confusion. Then nodded.
Abigail
led her to the bed. With gentle
patience, she helped her sit on the edge.
“Put
your feet up on the kickboard. Spread
your legs for me. Hands on your knees.”
Eve
fumbled as she tried to follow these instructions. Her movements were klutzy and graceless, and
her bangs clung to her forehead with sweat. “Sorry I’m like this.”
“It’s
very good, Eve. Everything is good.”
She
moved the witch into position, then took a big step backward, creating space
between them.
“Close
your eyes, and just breathe. Can you do
that for me?”
Eve did
as she was told. Her breath came ragged
at first, skipping here and there. Gradually, it slowed.
“Keep
that up. Nice, deep breaths. I want you to tell me if it starts to become
too much again. Okay?”
Eyes
still shut, Eve nodded.
“Alright.
This time, we’re not going to fight your
empathy. We’re going to lean into it. I want you to concentrate only on me. What I’m feeling. Try to push out everything else.”
Eve
smiled. “Yeah. That sounds easier.”
Abigail
took a breath, and made herself as calm as possible.
And
then, for the first time ever, she allowed herself to look at Eve. To really look. To see her without judgment or pretense, just
the way she was.
Eve was
beautiful. But that was a summary
thought, something top-level, both generic and useless. Abigail focused her attention, trying to take
in every last detail. Eve’s hair was
sleek, stretching down past her waist, and was as dark as midnight. A few strands were so long they even spilled
into her lap. She had a strong, muscular
neck, and her legs were unusually long. Her arms, too. She might’ve been gangly, if not for a certain
robustness of her build. Her breasts
were a bit too large for her frame, drooping faintly into a vague tear-drop
shape. Her nipples tiny, and slightly
upturned.
As she
concentrated on the details, she wondered about the woman’s age. She was older than herself – perhaps in her
late twenties or early thirties. There
were subtle lines around her eyes, and at the corner of her mouth. Laugh lines. If this was an imperfection, it only added to
the beauty of the whole. As did her
love-handles, the little stretch marks around her waist. All of it was Eve. All of it was perfect.
Eve’s
toes wiggled as Abigail continued to stare. The corner of the woman’s mouth twitched, and
turned up in a smile.
“I don’t
have to tell you,” Abigail said softly. “But I like what I see. I like it a lot. Are you still concentrating on me?”
Eve
nodded.
“Good.” Abigail took another step backward. She found the wall, and leaned some of her
weight against it.
She
spread her legs.
Eve let
out a tiny grunt from the back of her throat. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“Don’t
move. Just feel me.”
It had
been years since she’d touched herself in front of a partner. True, Eve had her eyes closed. Yet the way she observed was far more intimate
than mere sight. Eve wasn’t just seeing
her. She was experiencing her. Sharing in the sensation, as Abigail ran her
finger gently along her slit.
She went
slow at first. Stroking herself, teasing
the edges of her labia, watching Eve rock gently in time to her movements. When she passed her fingertip over her clit
they moaned in unison, the sound resonating as their voices struck the exact
same chord.
Abigail
built herself up over several minutes. Running her first two fingers over the little
bundle of nerves in a way she knew could get her off in short order. Intensifying, until it was almost more than
she could take. Then backing off, edging
herself. Each time she did this, Eve
would groan in frustration, throwing her mane of hair from side to side like an
agitated pony. Then she would gasp, as
Abigail once more returned to pleasuring herself in earnest.
At last,
Abigail started to massage her clit in small, sharp circles – her favorite
finishing move. She tensed, doing all
she could to hold back her release.
“If I
kept doing this,” Abigail said, from between gritted teeth. “Would you come with me, Eve? Would we come together?”
“Yes!”
the witch cried. Thrusting her hips in
rhythm with the unseen girl across from her.
Abigail
grinned evilly.
And
stopped.
Not just
stopped – became nothing. She pushed
every last thought, every emotion out of her head.
Eve
froze.
Quietly,
Abigail closed the distance between them, sank to her knees in front of her. Let her breath fall on the woman’s thigh.
Eve
shivered. “W-what are you doing?”
She was
no longer thinking. It was something
that happened when you lost yourself inside a really good book. Where everything else dropped away, and the
words on the page became your entire world. For the moment, she allowed the task at hand
to consume her. To become nothing but a
background character in someone else’s story.
“Eve,”
Abigail said. “You felt that in your
mind. This is what it feels like, in
your body.”
She
touched the woman. Starting exactly the
way she had with herself, slow and subtle. Eve was already wet – spectacularly so. She smelled incredible, too. Abigail almost allowed herself to become
impressed.
Thinking
of nothing was hard.
She
thought instead about the movement of her fingers. Let herself be an object, a tool for Eve’s
pleasure.
The
witch could hardly hold still. Her head
thrashed from side to side, her cheek pressed against her shoulder. Her voice was a constant, low moan. Abigail allowed the sound to direct her, let
Eve make all the decisions this way. Let
her control what felt best for her in the moment.
Abby was
completely caught up in what she was doing, and so she failed to anticipate
Eve’s orgasm. The woman grabbed her by
the shoulders, threw back her head, and howled at the top of her voice.
“Abigail!”
She
continued to stroke the witch all the way through her release. Slowing. Until at last she ended, her fingertips
resting on Eve’s pubic mound, her palm soft upon her sex.
Only
then did she let herself enjoy her labor, and appreciate how fucking hot that
had been.
Eve’s
eyes opened, blinking down at her. She
panted. Then the witch grabbed her by
the arms, and with unabashed need hauled Abigail up and kissed her. Again, and again, and again.
“Thank
you. Oh my God Abby, thank you so much.”
“Is it
okay if I kiss you back now?” she asked, her voice distorted as the witch
periodically covered her mouth with her own. “Or will that be too much?”
“It’s
okay. I feel… better. It’s hard to explain.”
“More
yourself?” Abigail tried.
Eve
looked embarrassed.
“It’s
interesting,” Abigail said slowly. “Because I was trying to help you listen to
your body. And about halfway through
that, you started shrinking.”
“I did?”
The witch cocked her head. She looked down at herself, up at Abigail,
comparing. “Huh. I guess I did. You’re almost a head taller than me now. I never do that without intention. That’s… neat.”
Abigail
laughed. “I guess you just desired
to be smaller.”
Eve hid
her face, grinning. “Don’t look at me
when you say that.”
“Oh? It’s embarrassing to want something? What about all the things I want, huh? Those little wishes you grant. Should I be embarrassed about those?”
“That’s
different!” Eve squealed.
Abigail
took the smaller woman by the hands, and made her uncover her face. She pulled her gently, urging her toward the
head of the bed. Together, the two of
them pulled back the blankets. Abigail
directed the witch, had her lie down beside her. Then pulled the sheet up, until they both lay
beneath the covers.
Eve
giggled. In the darkness, her eyes
glowed distinctly – a vibrant green, the same color of the plants in her shop
while the midday sun shined upon them. “This is nice. It feels kind of like a slumber party.”
“Yeah. Only….”
She
scooted forward until she pressed against the smaller woman, touching her with
her entire body.
“Only I
always wanted to do this at a slumber party, but never had the guts.”
It took
some experimenting, and a lot of communication. Abigail
had an idea for how this might work, but the actual execution was complicated. Eventually they lay chest-to-chest on their
sides together, arms intertwined as they stared into each other’s eyes, fitting
together like puzzle pieces. Abigail
felt just a little wrist strain, as she reached between Eve’s thighs. A moment later the witch’s fingertips pressed
between her own.
As one,
they slipped inside each other.
It grew
hot under the covers, as the two gasped and moaned into each other’s mouths. There was no technique in the way they
touched. Just sensation, the feeling of
another body pressing close, the experience of perfectly symmetrical ecstasy. Eve might have been using her powers to sense
Abigail’s desires. But if so, it hardly
mattered. She could feel Eve with her
entire body, sense everything she sensed. In that moment, Abigail might as well have had
empathy powers, too.
She felt
herself crest more times than she could count – some of them a hardly-noticed
fluttering from just beneath her navel, others so overwhelming that Eve had to
clamp her hand over Abigail’s mouth to save her own hearing.
But
through it all, she was aware of one concrete fact. Eve was shrinking. Noticeably so, and much faster than before. It was convenient, really. It created space between them, as Eve
dwindled. It let them shift into more
comfortable positions, take stress off overtaxed arms.
If Eve
was aware she was getting smaller, she didn’t let on. It didn’t change her disposition, or cause her
to become more submissive. For her own
part, Abigail could certainly have decided to press the issue. Take control, flip the smaller woman onto her
back, have her way with her.
She
didn’t.
Physical
exhaustion finally got the better of them, and they rested. It had become too hot to hold each other. Eve, no more than three feet tall to her
perspective, lay beside her gasping for breath. Abigail threw off the covers, and took her
pint-sized lover’s hand.
“That
was….” Abigail struggled for words. “Well. I don’t want to say ‘magical.’”
“You can
say magical.”
“How
about marvelous? Astounding. Life-changing.”
Eve
giggled, pressing her face into the pillow.
“So. You got pretty small during that. Huh, little lady? What brought that on?”
The
witch turned her face deeper into the pillow and groaned with embarrassment. “I don’t know. I just wanted it. Don’t make fun of me.”
“Never.”
Still
hiding her face, Abigail saw the corner of the witch’s mouth turn up in a
smirk. “Though there’s something you
should know, about me being smaller.”
“Uh-huh.
And what’s that, cutie?”
Eve
turned just enough to make eye contact. “I was, um. Shrinking. Earlier. When you had me sit on the bed. But since then I’ve actually been… growing a
bit, just to keep up with you.”
“What? You mean you were making me grow during that? I thought you said that was really hard for
you!”
“It
usually is.” Eve scooted a little
closer. She put her head on Abigail’s
shoulder, looking earnestly up into her eyes. “It might be because you took that potion with
my essence. Or it could be because the
connection between us… feels… really… strong.”
“Or it
could be your magic cum.”
“I do
not have magic cum!” Eve whined.
Abigail
kissed the tiny woman. “It’s a little
magic. So exactly how big am I?”
“I have
absolutely no idea. I lost track during
all of that, and there’s no frame of reference in here. I don’t even know how big I am at the
moment, and that’s a very novel feeling. But I have a way to find out.” Eve pointed. “See that other door? That one leads to my apartment – the one you
saw the other day. Do not try to
go through it. I ran out of time and
didn’t set up the size fixing enchantment in there.”
“So if I
went through….”
“I would
absolutely lose my security deposit. It’s not a problem for me – I can just
size shift on the way through. I have to
step over there anyway. I need to feed
Artemis.”
“Arti–
oh. Your cat? Too bad I can’t come with you. She seems sweet. Plus I feel like I made a bad impression
yesterday. Want to bring her with you
when you come back?”
“Abby, I
adore that you want to hang out with my cat. But she is, at the moment, somewhere between
the size of your thumb, and the tip of your littlest finger.”
“That is
the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. Please?”
Eve
kissed her. “I’ll be back.”
Abigail
sat up to watch her go through the door. The space inside the frame was almost entirely
ink-black emptiness, except for a messy little apartment in the lower left
corner. Eve shrank as she moved toward
it, and seemed to briefly lose dimensionality as she passed through the central
plane. When she emerged on the other
side, she was tiny.
Oh,
Abigail thought. Alice meets Mr. A
Square.
The door
shut behind her. From far away she heard
Eve’s soft voice, and the excited chirping of Artemis the cat. A moment later, she heard singing, distant and
sweet. Curious, Abigail got on hands and
knees, and pressed her ear to the door.
She
hadn’t heard the song since she was a little girl, but she recognized it at
once. It was the opening theme to the
cartoon movie, The Aristocats. Eve’s
French accent was absolutely atrocious.
Perhaps
ten minutes later, the door opened. Eve
stepped through – tiny and adorable – into the gigantic room. The woman was so small that Abigail could’ve
comfortably picked her up in a single hand.
“This,”
she called. “Is my normal height –
five-seven.”
The
witch closed her eyes, concentrating very hard. Slowly she began to grow. Inching up a little at a time, until the top
of her head reached Abigail’s shoulder.
“And
this. Within an inch or two, I think? Is exactly fifty feet.”
Abigail
laughed, and pulled her into a hug. “I’m
taller than Mackenzie? Ha! I’m taller than Mackenzie!”
Eve was
patient as Abigail danced around in joy.
“Do keep
in mind, she’s caught up with you before. But yes, this is extremely good news. And… it’s really sexy, too. I haven’t made anyone this big in a very long
time.”
“Oh? So I’m special then?”
Eve
stood on tiptoe, grabbed Abigail by the nape of the neck, and pulled her down
until the two were eye-to-eye.
“You,”
she growled. “Are extremely
special. Now unless you’re ready for
sleep, you better go lie down. Because
I’m not closed to finished demonstrating exactly how special.”
