Eve's Boutique - Ch 31

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.”