Shrinking Spells: A Giantess Sizeplay Story (Patreon-Exclusive Sample) (Patreon)

I present to you my First Ever shrinking story; the one thing I would never think I'd make. It gave a different feel, a more personal touch, and I'm confident that anyone desiring Big Ladies will not be disappointed by the (comparatively) continental sizes that Evie and her mysterious familiar attains next to the (un)lucky thief that was stupid enough to try to plunder her tower...

Awesome cover art is by none other than RavenRavenRaven. I heartily recommend you check out their patreon!

***

"No," she decided, smirking down at him. "I want you even smaller."

What’s a little thievery between friends?

The Grand Sorceress, unfortunately, is not Lance’s friend; but she might become something far more intimate when she decides to punish the rogue by shrinking him, inch by squirming inch. And for all his cunning, Lance can’t help but be overwhelmed by the titanic woman on top of him as what started as an interrogation turns into steamy indulgence…

Just how small will Lance shrink before Evie is satisfied? Will he manage to escape her grasp—when he’s tiny enough to slip through the cracks of her fingers? Or will he resign himself to the irresistible will of the towering giantess and her landscape of lush, feminine curves?

This 7,000 word story contains: F/m, Shrinking, Sizeplay, Giantess, Multi-Size, Body Exploration, Mouthplay. 

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Shrinking Spells: A Giantess Sizeplay Story

Lying to a sorceress is risky business. Especially when you’ve just tried to rob her.

‘Lucky’ Lance Finch was no stranger to high-risk heists. Haven had no shortage of magical hoards, what with the city being a nexus of all possible worlds and all of that, and where there is magical power to be found, there are people willing to lie, cheat, and kill to take it. Lance wasn’t fond of the killing part, but he’d happily take anybody’s coin to hustle his way through the arcane defenses du jour to procure the particular piece of arcana that made employer’s dreams come true.

The downside was that, like any mortal trap-toucher, occasionally he’d bungle a pick and get himself burnt to cinders by a fireball, lightning blast, or any number of alternative destructive excesses employed by the mage-folk. Then it was the walk of shame to the nearest spirit healer. Reincarnation, while far from pleasant, wasn’t such a big deal in a city teeming with angels, demons, and everything in between, and it certainly beat the prospect of having to fight your way out of the realm of the dead on your lonesome.

That was the conventional wisdom, at least. But as Lance woke up and found himself face to face with Evie, Mistress of the Everspire, he couldn’t help but think that wrestling a few wraiths bare-handed wouldn’t be preferable to weathering her wrath.

The grand sorceress was as enchanting a woman as they came, effortlessly attractive and brimming with power. Her skin was lilac, her hair was pine, and all manner of magical sigils and jewelry hung upon her, glowing and moving and changing from moment to moment. She wore a tight, revealing kind of dress, a mix of leotard and corset, purposefully challenging whomever laid eyes on her with the sensual perfection of her body, an hourglass figure so sexy that it had to have been crafted by magic. And why not? Nothing about her was mundane. Why shouldn’t her breasts be as big and shapely as she wanted them? Her waist thin, her hips provocatively wide? She was as athletic and curvaceous as she her whims dictated, her form beholding only to her mood. Today, that mood appeared to be sex goddess; all except her dark eyes, which saw all and revealed nothing, and skewered Lance with their glare.

She had caught him red-handed and paralyzed him with a word halfway through her magical laboratory. It was a great, circular chamber, filled on all sides with magical apparatuses, bubbling liquids, and racks of exotic ingredients. Daylight filtered through the high windows; they had been dark and full of stars when Lance had entered, but now showed a clear blue sky and, far below, the smaller towers and glittering roofs of a chaotic, ever-changing city.

The spell ended with a snap of Evie’s fingers. Lance resumed from where he’d been stopped—throwing his hands up in surrender—and grimaced at the sudden shock to his stiffened muscles and the, from his perspective, abrupt shift from night to day.

“Let’s not do anything rash,” he said, blinking rapidly. “This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

“The misunderstanding,” Evie replied, ensnaring Lance with her rich, sultry voice, “that I wouldn’t notice a mouse like you skulking through my domain.”

“Skulking, skulking… That’s such a negative word. I was merely lost, good lady, looking for my way home.”

“Indeed. With a set of keys to my front door in your pocket.” Evie glanced meaningfully at the table beside her, upon which Lance’s personal effects had been laid out: a handful of amulets, several bundles of key of different size and make, coins, notes, and a deck of cards. And, of course, the complete contents of his lock- and trap-picking kit.

“Ah,” Lance said, suddenly feeling very naked. “Yes, I did have those. I like to be prepared. You never know what might happen, right?”

“I know exactly what will happen. You will tell me who sent you and what you’ve taken,” Evie said, inspecting an onyx talisman among Lance’s items as she spoke. “Then, and only then, will I consider releasing you.”

“I can’t reveal my sources, fair lady, it wouldn’t be professional. I’d never get hired again. And you’ve already emptied my pockets; what more could you want? I’m not desperate enough to jam valuables inside me to smuggle out, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

Her gaze descended upon him once more, chilling in its intensity. For a moment, he felt very small, shrinking away in the shadow of an angry goddess.

“I know you’ve taken something more, little thief. And you will yield it to me.” It was a statement of fact, a promise and a threat.

She was right, of course. He had taken something. But Lance would be a lousy scoundrel to give up the goods so easily.

“Maybe I have,” he allowed. “Maybe I haven’t. What’re you going to do about it?”

“I think you know,” Evie said, the lights dimming around her as magical energy flowed to her hands. She raised a finger at him, and—

“Easy now!” Lance said, spreading his hands. “Even you are bound by the laws, most exalted mistress of magic. You can’t torture me. Flux protects!”

“Torture? How little you think of me, thiefling.” Evie smirked. “Let’s do something about that, shall we?”

***

The sorceress drew an arcane sigil in the air, its glowing lines as straight and still as if etched on stone. She cast the spell, then, the symbol folding itself into an arrow that shot itself straight into Lance’s heart. He flinched, grasping himself, but the ethereal projectile was already gone, leaving only a trace of fear and a dizzying sensation as the magic took hold inside him.

“Trying to intimidate me? You’re right, I did expect more of you,” he said, shaking off the illusion.

“Good. You ought to. Sit, please.” Evie snapped her finger, and a chair flew across the room, scooping Lance up before he could protest. “Now, let me make this clear. Everything that is about to happen is your own fault. Only the truth—and my good will—will set you free. I’m going to ask you again: What did you take from my tower?”

Lance squinted at her, struggling to read her face. What kind of interrogation was this going to be? She was smiling, now, albeit crookedly, clearly enjoying herself. But studying the sensual sorceress for too long presented the danger of falling prey to her supernaturally attractive looks, and so he forced himself to look away, staring intently at a bubbling cauldron behind her as he answered her question:

“I took an amulet for my collection. I meant to take more, but you interrupted me before I could search through the library.”

Immediately, he was struck by a fit of disorientation. The proportions of the room shifted and bent around him, and for a moment, his chair was the only stationary object in the whole world. Then the feeling passed, leaving him sweaty and shaken.

Evie’s smile widened. “That is not the right answer.” She placed himself directly in front of him, forcing the thief to crane his neck to meet her gaze. It also placed her big, perky breasts straight in his field of vision, providing a fresh angle of distraction. Had she made them bigger than before? Lance wouldn’t put it past her, trying his hardest not to blush as the lilac-skinned lady presented herself so openly for his viewing pleasure.

“It is, alas, the answer I have for you.”

Again, the overwhelming spell of dizziness. Again, the world stretched, moving away from him without any semblance of real motion. And again, he found Evie looking down at him, the amusement plain on her face. She was even bigger now, her barely contained bust hanging over his head, primed to smother him if she leaned forward.

“What kind of game is this? What are you doing to me?” Lance demanded. “I have friends in high places! I swear by Flux, once they find out…”

That’s when Lance realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground. They couldn’t reach all the way down from the seat of his chair. “W-what?” he cried, realization dawning, as Evie straddled the shrinking man’s lap.

“You took something of mine,” she said. “So I’ll take something of yours. Your height. Don’t worry, I’ll put it to far better use.”

Lance made to protest, but her body had already swallowed him up, his face pinned between her enormous breasts while her bare thighs closed around his hips, already twice the width of his own.

“There,” she purred, her voice reverberating through his whole body. “Take a moment to meditate on your actions. The choices that led you here. The choices you have yet to make. If you’re not feeling too distracted.” 

He squirmed in vain, overwhelmed by Evie’s heat, her softness, and her scent. She seemed a whole world of seductive allure, more woman than he could ever hope to handle and yet so desperately wanted. He was entirely at her mercy, stuck beneath the titaness until she deigned to lift her heart-shaped bottom from his lap—and given the way she was gyrating and grinding herself on him, that wouldn’t happen any time soon.

So this was how she intended to get the answers out of him without breaking Haven’s sacred taboos: By vulgar seduction and the threat of leaving him a halfling. Well, she had another thing coming if she thought that she could break ‘Lucky’ Lance Finch, thief of a hundred hearts, so easily.

“Well?” Evie said, offering Lance a breath of air as she grinned down at him. There was just the hint of a flush on her lilac cheeks. “Are you ready to give up your secrets?”

“I’ve given you all that I intend to. Do your worst.” He gave her a defiant look, the kind of steely-eyed gaze that had seen him through many a showdown. The effect was, admittedly, rather diminished from beneath a woman more than twice his size, his head set to drown in heavy curves the moment Evie leaned forward once more. Which, of course, she did immediately.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said, smirking like a cat, as she wrapped her arms around the backrest and plunged him into her smothering darkness. Like clockwork, the threads of her spell wrapped around him once more, shrinking Lance smaller and smaller in dizzying pulses.

Oh, fuck. Lance tried his hardest to keep his composure, but it was all he could do to hold on as she made his head spin with her magic and her tantalizing presence, dominating his senses without a shred of effort. As he shrank, he found that he could no longer reach around her waist, his hands grabbing in vain as the size differential forced them apart. The seat of the chair rose behind him, keeping him pinned in place, as his face moved smoothly through the deep embrace of her cleavage and further down, until he was level with her navel. And as he dwindled, her luscious hips and thighs only grew more monumental in comparison, until the tip of his feet only barely peeked out between her big, shapely ass-cheeks.

He was, in other words, in huge trouble.

“Mh… Haven’t had such a reckless plaything for a while. Nobody is stupid enough to mouth off to me like that anymore.” Evie chuckled, pressing herself in tight to make the thief feel her voice and her laughter rumbling through his bones like an earthquake.

“You’re just making my job easier. At this size, I can get in and out anywhere without being seen. I’ll become the most famous thief in history,” Lance said, focusing on his bravado to avoid thinking about how hot and wet the gigantic sorceress’ loins felt against him, the thin, elastic fabric of her leotard pulled tight to outline her juicy pussy in detail.

“Really now? What locks do you plan to penetrate? What cracks might you slip through?” Evie laughed, humping him without a trace of shame. “You might not fit through a keyhole yet, little thief, but you’ll get there if you don’t tell me the truth.”

“None of your damn business,” Lance snapped, trying to squirm out of the way—but, of course, there was nowhere to go; Evie’s thick thighs and fat ass were becoming all he could see and touch. The only way out would be to phase through the back of the chair, and though he was slippery, Lance hadn’t quite graduated to that level of sneaking. Even if he had had such a charm handy, he couldn’t cast it in his present state: he was too distracted, too enthralled, even without the spells of dizziness that accompanied his shrinking. The magical tingling rushed through him once more, punishing his defiance by making him smaller beneath the gorgeous sorceress and spurred on his instinctive reaction to free himself.

Part of his panic, he realized, was due to the simple fact that he wanted her like nothing else. She knew that, and he knew that she knew; but still Lance refused to give her the satisfaction of making it plain. And so he tried to hold on, pretending he wasn’t hard as a rock, pretending his heart was still and expression was plain. Even that was futile: Evie couldn’t actually see him, wedged under her pussy; and yet that impossibility did nothing to assuage the feeling that her eyes were on him at all times, watching his efforts with a raised eyebrow and a maddening smirk as she used him for her pleasure; her toy, effortlessly dominated.

Lance passed below her navel, shrinking further. There was nothing but her hips now, nothing to reach around; only curving walls of warm, delectable thighs and the provocatively clothed triangle between her legs. The heat was unbearable. And as his face neared her pubic mound, the intoxicating scent of her sex filled his nose and made his world—and his cock—tremble.

“What’s that I sense? Are you ready to submit?” Evie laughed, her voice booming in his ears. “Such a strong-willed soul. Uncommonly so for a burglar. Makes this whole matter all the more enjoyable. Perhaps you truly are as good as you claim. Or perhaps…”

She shifted in place, leaning back in order to cast her awesome gaze on him, freezing Lance in place as her dark eyes, shining with amusement, pierced his soul.

“…Perhaps you’re simply too turned on to stop.”

Lance reeled. It was as if his heart had stopped, his body gone numb; he was longer himself, but a spirit, watching himself squirm with denied pleasure under this mountain of a woman. At the sight of her face, he truly realized how small he had shrunk; mere inches tall, small enough to fit in the palm of her hand—or in her underwear, he thought automatically, immediately cursing himself. He had snuck into her tower, but now Evie become like a tower onto herself, nearly 200 feet tall by comparison; overwhelming, erotic, and utterly in control.

“No…” he started to say, before he realized his mistake and grit his teeth. “No, I refuse. I won’t answer that.”

“Too late,” Evie laughed, licking her lips as she rolled her hips onto Lance once more. “Shrink for me, little thief. Have no fear—I treat my guests as well as they deserve.” At that, she reached down and pulled the crotch of her outfit aside, exposing her big, wet cunt to the tiny man between her legs.

“You can’t be serious,” Lance said, his voice wavering between hope and horror. Her sopping sex seemed to him a path to paradise and to his doom, his sense of arousal battling the natural trepidation of staring down something that big, like the awe and fear one might feel at the precipice of a steep cliff. Though in this case, the mountain was threatening to climb him, not the other way around…

“Deadly serious. You’ll give me what I want. The only question is how pathetically small you’ll shrink before that point. It’s your choice, little thiefling. Though, at this rate,” she said, pinning him between her plump pussy lips, “I have to wonder how small you’ll get before I can’t feel you any more. Lucky for you, I’m always eager to experiment.”

###

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