Dahlia's Performance Review (Patreon)

This is an edit made using material from the wonderful Dahlia! Courtesy of her and Godzilla20xx.

You can find their excellent size fetish material and more Dahlia photos on their Patreon as well as their Deviant Art page. Check them out!!

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The door slowly covered the drive, the motor and chain squealing and rattling as it settled onto the pavement. Through the moonroof I began counting the nails fixing the shingles to the roof, birds were flitting through the dawn sky, barely visible through the small skylight in the structure's ceiling.

The car door felt heavy, slowly swaying out into the dim dusty garage. As her feet hit the floor, she felt them catch and slip on a bit of metal, followed by a cheerful bell.  Looking down she saw Iva's bike laying on its side, discarded quickly.

“That girl…” I groaned, bending to lift the vehicle and stow it properly. Each fiber of muscle protesting as she moved. “Why didn’t Dahlia catch this…”

Standing back up, stars filled my vision. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my gym bag and mat laying atop a pile of schematics and work. “The hell with it, that’s ‘tomorrow me's’ problem.”

Snatching up my backpack, grunting as I sling it over my shoulder I plod into the house through the kitchen. I pause, the room is a disaster!

The sink is full of old cereal bowls, still half full. Multiple open pizza boxes, Macca's wrappers, the room reeks of burned popcorn. “What the f--…” My eyes flash to the hall… “The lab!‽!”

Darting to the far side of the room, my heart crashes to the roof of my mouth. Light is streaming through a crack, the door is ajar.

Racing down the hall towards the lab, I see flickering movement in the corner of my eye as I pass the living room. Pausing briefly, tension melts away from my shoulders. Laying in her side, wrapped in a pink and purple blanket is Iva, her tiny frame draping off the edge of the seat, snoozing peacefully.

“Little terror…” I whisper, leaning against the threshold.

Thud. Rustle. Thud.

The sound drawing my attention back towards the open door. “Dahlia.” I growl, creeping down the hall towards the partially open door.

I can see the light on the end table on, yarn balls still in their basket. Peering through the crack, my jaw tenses. My bags are opened, bins too. ‘Someone’s rummaging through my stuff.’ I muse silently. ‘…the prototype‽’

Barreling through the door, the sounds disappear. The room is relatively neat, despite the burglary. “N-Nicole!‽!”

The voice is soft and pointed, ragged and stressed. Looking around, I see a bit of movement in the periphery. Looking down, Dahlia is peeking out from behind my desk.

My jaw drops, her body is swimming in a massive t-shirt, and her head barely reaches the underside of the desk. The 28-year-old Gothic cutie is just 20 inches tall! Mincing out from behind the desk, she pads across the carpet, fidgeting and looking behind me furtively. “Thank God it’s you, you have to help me!”

Carefully closing the door,I step into the room and set my bag down. “Dahlia, what happened…” I ask, walking over to the window.

“Your b--… -eautiful daughter snuck in here when I was in the bathroom and she shot me with some sort of…thing.” Little hands batting at the hem of the shirt. She was wearing loose shorts that slipped down to her knees.  “I’ve been stuck like this for four days! You have to help me!”

I stand back leaning against the door. “Four days, that explains the mess. What are you doing in here?”

“Looking for the ray thingy! How…why… does she have a shrinking ray‽”

Smirking, I shrug. “I built it. She was supposed to have supervision. This room is locked at all times, how did she even get in here?” Dahlias pale cheeks turned slightly flush. She fidgeted in place but said nothing. “Dahlia?”

The younger woman stayed silent, tugging the hem of her baggy shirt down. “I…dunno…I may have…been exploring…”

Grinning, I shake my head. “Naughty, naughty.” I purr. “I’ll think about it.  But first, let’s find the ray. If we don't it'll be a while before you can do in the adults section again.”