Hex's Trick-or-Treat (Patreon)

[The following story is a Pokemon fanfiction, featuring Hex Maniac shrinking Viola to a few inches tall. The story contains themes of shrinking; abduction; handheld/pocketed; clothes; body exploration; feet; vore teased; breastheld; nudity; photography.]

“I love your costume! Mimikyu, right?”

The spritely compliment swirled in Hex Maniac’s head. She had frozen mid-step when spoken to, afraid at first that she was being hawked for having done something wrong at Lumiose’s Halloween Festival. Her nervous nature had been at odds with the vibrant energy – bundles of costumed people dashing under colored lights and a ghostly sky, the sounds of spooks and frights intertwined with the usual city noise – and so to be singled out from the crowd flared her anxiety, struck into redness as she bashfully turned to face the comment with a shambled grin.

“Y-Y… Y-Yes…” Hex sputtered in reply, lifting her arms to display the oversized sleeves – long enough to hide her twitching fingers. “M-Mimikyu… Y-You noticed…”

Short of a full costume, Hex wore for Halloween a novelty hoodie in the design of a Mimikyu, complete with a lop-sided head for the hood and a club-shaped tail that hung from the back. Indeed, it was a pokemon unfamiliar to many Kalosians. Despite all her worries, Hex had hoped someone would eventually recognize the ghost-type for what it was, the very reason she braved the festivities that evening rather than cloister in her apartment. All night long, however, people mistook her hoodie as a deformed Pikachu, muttering confusion amongst themselves while passing her by.

“It’s so, so cute! You can see I had a similar idea, hehe~”

Only then did Hex have the courage to raise her head and see clearly who had approached her. She recognized the costume – another hoodie styled like her own, designed after the bug-type Vivallon with its signature pink wings on the back and bouncy antennas on the hood – yet she failed to recognize the gym leader in front of her, that it was Viola from Santalune, attending the Halloween Festival to capture photos of the event. Instead, Hex thought of her as just any other citizen, oblivious to the celebrity status, but drawn to the camera she had in her hands.

“Mind if I take a quick pic?” Viola asked, the tilt of her head making her antennas sway. She took aim through the lens with an encouraging smile; “Ready? Say… trick-or-treat!”

Hex flinched with her mouth open, too startled to strike a proper pose before the camera flash blanked her swirling pupils. She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve, “S-S-Sorry, I-I wasn’t…–”

“Looks good!” Viola said with a thumbs-up, which then became a wave farewell. “Thank you! But I’ve got a lot more photos to take before the night’s over~ Happy Halloween!”

“W-Wait! Er…” Hex’s stuttering was too quiet to be heard before Viola was away and mixed into other crowds up the street. Her arms slumped to her side, staring through the foot traffic and following where Viola’s antennas ventured. Though the distance between them grew, Hex felt an intense closeness – a feeling in her chest that drove her to obsessive thoughts. “Wait… I want… m-more pictures…”

The festivities carried Viola through Lumiose’s plazas like the autumn wind, happy to celebrate in a way that put her passion to good use. After hours of snapping photos, she slipped away from the excitement to where she could catch her breath and review the long list of pictures she had collected. She found some were more expertly taken than others that were snapped with haste, but found one in particular that was almost completely a blur. Narrowing her eyes and focusing on the image, Viola remembered the Mimikyu hoodie and the shyness of the woman wearing it. A chill ran over her shoulders, which she thought was a shiver of regret, yet more eerie than that was how the picture on screen became blurrier and blurrier – and when she scrolled to another photo, it was always still that woman, that photo, distorted worse and worse.

With a weak breath, Viola wondered what glitch in her camera was responsible, the thought that dwindled in her mind as a shroud of darkness overcame her…

Viola woke to the sways of motion. An uncomfortable warmth greeted her, surrounded by fuzzy yellow fabric, seemingly swamped under blankets that dampened any light from outside. She struggled to orient herself against the movement that transported her and the plushness of the material, increasingly frantic with fears of what had happened while she was out; she remembered the Halloween Festival, taking pictures, but those figments of memory ended there. The place she was in then made no sense to her, so confusing that it stole her voice and dulled her reaction – until she could no longer keep calm, made sick by the unknown.

“H-Hey! Help me! St-Stop!!” Viola shouted, piping sharply so her voice might breach the fabric around her. She pushed into the walls and pulled herself forward, but the space was cramped and always shifting, beating her in her dazed condition. “Rgh…! S-Someone…! Wh-Where am I?! Let me out…!”

When her efforts became desperate fumbling around, Viola was then ambushed by intruders – tendrils of cold skin that snaked through the fabric and found her immediately. She squealed when taken, enwrapped by what she realized too late were fingers that curled effortlessly around her limbs to manipulate her body, no matter how hard she writhed. Her plea had been answered in the most terrifying method, stolen from the pocket she had awoken in and dragged outside into a vast, overwhelming world.

Viola was rolled into the center of a palm, a pit that became her seat as she flailed with her limited frame of freedom. She panted, looking side to side, wary of the fingers that were raised around her – soon did her vision aim forward and upward, her expression of worry twitching into amazement as she comprehended the hugeness of that who held her. Bigger than any building in Lumiose, the yellow-clad figure loomed above; at the peak of that height was a fog of swirly, purple hair, a head draped halfway over with a hood of floppy ears, and two eyes that spun with fascination aimed pointedly onto herself. Viola gasped and shielded herself with both hands, dumbfounded to have recognized the giant as the Hex Maniac from the Halloween Festival, still dressed in her Mimikyu hoodie whose pocket was used to steal her off the streets.

“C-Cute… costume…!” Hex’s words cut a response from Viola, a preemptive shiver to the wispy sound of her voice. It was not what she expected the ghastly woman to say first, but it reminded Viola that she was, indeed, still in her own Vivallon hoodie as well, for what little comfort that provided. Hex giggled, “So… small… J-Just like a bug…! Hehe…”

A rock sank in Viola’s stomach, shuddering as though she had shrunken smaller. On instinct, she nearly said thanks, but her confusion babbled forth instead. “Wh-Wha… What’s happened…?! I-Is this a trick?! H…How?!”

Hex grew giddy. “I-It’s a curse…! I-I cast a curse on you…” Quite proud of herself, Hex began to teeter – wandering the perimeter of her room, in which few lights allowed her apartment to be dimly illuminated. The motion was enough to make Viola dizzy as she tried to process her surroundings, only wanting to make sense of her arcane situation; she clung to Hex’s hand when her face reeled suddenly close, denying her vision of anything else but her drooling desire. “I… wanted you…! T-To take more pictures… Y-You must be familiar with ghosts and spirits, t-too…! So, l-let’s have… fun…! H-Halloween fun, hehe~”

Viola turned pale under Hex’s pressure, but was quickly warmed into redness when those fingers began curling around her again, tightening around her shoulders and legs. Rather than hold her like a seat, the hand lifted her up to be examined, precariously high from the floor – level with those haunting eyes that looked at her as graphically as any touch. Squirming only invited Hex’s other hand to explore, arriving then to help subdue any wiggling that could almost slip free; long nails were especially threatening as they stroked down Viola’s sides, or pushed up on her chin to raise her head, as if they were ten different daggers picking at her figure. Having been struck speechless by the absurdity, Viola hardly yet whimpered, until her captor’s prying turned dangerously lewder – a digit too-comfortably between her legs, a presence that sprung Viola into a jump, “Eeep!”

With that surprise burst, Viola pushed through the fingers and fumbled from their grasp. Not expecting such speed, Hex was slow and shivery to reclaim her; unlike a graceful Vivallon fluttering in the air, Viola dully dropped, twisting once mid-fall before landing into the fortunate softness of a gigantic mattress. The bounce left her face-down, but she kicked into a sprint, taking the opportunity to run and make any distance from the creepy woman. But after only so far, while Viola was looking back behind her at the oncoming shadow, her feet tripped over a wrinkle – into a hill of laundry, a purple robe left piled on the bed. Hex’s scent was strong where she was planted, a near-intoxicating aroma of personal smell that entrenched her as much as the pitfalls of fabric her feet seeped into.

When Hex’s hands approached, Viola gasped and took to hiding, burying herself into the robe, where she could not clearly hear the amused chuckling from above. Inside the gown was an atmosphere of odor that was short of outright foul, but inescapably unpleasant – thickly sweet and flowery, the result of a garment worn regularly. Lost in the details, Viola crawled sluggishly, then went still when she felt Hex’s hands nearby, pressing and sifting along the clothes to locate her. She held her breath hoping to be overlooked, but Hex would never; when searching failed, Hex pulled the entire robe up from the bed, shaking it loose of the person inside. Viola was dropped once again, but without the adrenaline she had before; any energy she had went into shaking underneath Hex hanging above her, belittled beneath her arched pose from the bedside.

“Eh-heh… D-Do I look… scary?” Hex whispered, fighting back the urge to smile too unabashedly. Viola’s flinched reaction answered her well enough, prompting a giggle of delight. “Yes…! M-Mimikyu is very cute, but it can be terrifying, too! Heh~ though, I-I doubt I look c-cute at all…!” She blinked, her excitement revived; “That’s right – pictures! I wanted… more pictures…! T-Take one, right now!!”

The forcefulness of Hex’s suggestion offended Viola, even in her frightened state. She glared at Hex, pushed to the limits of her patience; “E-Enough of this…! I don’t know you! I-I don’t know where I am…! Take me home! And change me back, now!”

Hex’s stare persisted, however, and so did her grin. She had no reason to forfeit what she had, and her expression made that plain to Viola. Faced with an unrelenting request, Viola swallowed her pride and retrieved her camera from her hoodie pocket. A few photos, she thought, and perhaps the mysterious woman would return her to normal – presumably, that was the only means for the pictures to be viewed.

Chkk, the camera flashed, chkk. “Th-There,” Viola stammered after two snaps, “is that enough…?”

“Hah? N-No, we’re only just starting…!” Hex laughed, hiding some of her smile behind her sleeves. “Uhm, uh… New pose! L-Let’s try… this!” She lifted off the bedside and stood at full height, afflicting a different sense of fear onto her tiny photographer. Posed tall and mighty, she exposed her hands like claws, the image of a classic monster – if such a monster was meek and hunched. “R-Rawwr…! W-Was that scary…?”

More disturbed than scared, Viola weakly nodded to sate Hex over. “D-Definitely,” she replied, aiming again with her camera to snap more photos from an even steeper angle. Though Hex’s eccentricness made her odd and awkward in real life, the photos Viola took captured a more striking aspect, her knack for composition and perspective accurately reflecting the ferociousness Hex intended to have. When Viola looked over the results, she made herself shiver anew from doing too well of a job shooting photos.

But Hex was far from finished, already turning differently, twitching into another pose to be pictured. She had her back turned to the camera, highlighting her hoodie’s tail – and the width of her hips – while her head crooked over her shoulder, a single eye peering from the hood down at the viewer. Next was a side-profile, a pose with her hand held out as if reaching for Viola, an angle that did more to accentuate her bust and how the hoodie was tight around it. Gradually, Hex moved closer to the bed, imposing larger images of herself into Viola’s frame; soon enough, she was encroaching onto the mattress, stepping a knee onto the side and crawling over the shrunken photographer. Viola retreated appropriately, stumbling as the surface shifted to Hex’s weight, but her subject continued to approach, slinking low so that she might appear like a creeping monster – successfully so, as her act sent chills down Viola’s spine.

“A-Are we d-done yet…?” Viola whimpered after taking a messy photo, her shakiness having produced a blurry picture of Hex’s chest swooping closer. “Er, that’s got to be plenty, r-right…?”

“Nnh… It’s getting boring, isn’t it?” Hex answered, breathing over the cornered gym leader. She sat on her legs, letting the length of the hoodie pool around her – a pause that Viola took to get her bearings, only to then be lost again when she was plucked from the bedspread. She gasped within a ring of fingers, clutched like an object and lifted into the air, her dangling feet nervously kicking; Hex chuckled, “I’ve got an idea…! Th-This will be a terrifying angle!”

Viola’s voice quaked into a whine as she was taken even higher, risen with Hex’s eyes pointed at her the entire time – up above her head, where she could glance down and see Hex’s mouth opening wide. Too vividly could Viola imagine being dropped into that pit, her vision narrowing into the throat, assessing its depth and how possible it was to travel through it. She saw the details of shining saliva, glimpses of teeth, and a tongue that extended just for her, waiting to catch her if she dropped. Indeed, Viola no longer struggled – lest she drop herself to her own doom, she relied on Hex’s fingers, clinging to them with begging tightness.

“Heh~ Go ahead! T-Take the photo…!” Hex encouraged her, swallowing an excess amount of drool pooling in her mouth. A small shake spurred Viola to respond and point her camera, though in her perilous place, she only risked one arm to take the picture, the other wound around a finger for support. It was daring just to press the button, let alone keep a steady aim; what leveled her nerves was not bravery, but dark fascination, faced with a view never before captured in photography. The maw of a giant human, threatening as it was, provided a temptingly haunting picture fit for the holiday, and so Viola found the resolve to focus the throat into frame, anxious her grip would falter and her precious camera would go tumbling into that abyss.

It was almost scarier to see the mouth close and bend into another smile of inspiration. After posing for a birds-eye angle, Hex next wanted the opposite – a staggeringly low-angle point of view, as low as it could be. For that, she turned to the middle of her bedroom and placed Viola down onto the floor, rising back to full height without her. Though only a step of distance was between them, it was enough for Hex to appreciate Viola’s smallness – likewise did Viola gaze up, then down, assessing the size from Hex’s hood down to her bare feet, each as large as a freight truck. The pair appeared almost too heavy to be moved from where they were planted in the carpet, until they moved with uncanny dexterity, shifting according to Hex’s shyness as she bent forward and loomed over her captive.

“N-Now… let’s make these look dangerous…!” Hex suggested, spoken with eerie ease. Viola shuddered opposedly, but her opinion weighed nothing; Hex casually lifted her right foot and arched it over Viola, a clear bridge of motion that would end with a stomp right where the photographer had been placed. “Ready…? Heh~ Run!”

Viola screamed, realizing Hex’s intent was all too real: she was going to try stepping on her, seemingly unafraid of any consequences. For her life, she leaped away, barely dodging the foot itself – but not the wind of impact, struck by the shockwave and tripped forward. She stood back up in a rush, but hesitated, stunned when she saw just how close a toe and its purple-painted nail was to her body, the biggest digit wider than her shoulder span. The carpet was the victim instead, flattened where Viola would have been; the thought kicked her into a sprint, just as the other foot was drifting up and after her.

Boom! Thud! Step by step, Hex strutted with the confidence of a giant within her bedroom, giggling louder with each stride. “C’mon… You’re not taking pictures…” she warned, not having forgotten the purpose of marching around. Her next step was slower and higher, giving ample opportunity for a photo – unaware, from her perspective, that she was blatantly exposing her lacy underwear from the hem of her hoodie, revealing herself to have been pantless the entire evening. Between that lewd view and the underside of Hex’s hanging foot, Viola had much to be paralyzed by, only able to move her camera as coerced. Hex huffed happily, swaying as she held that pose, “M-More…! Zoom in on the sole…! Does it look… heavy…? Or, gross…? Eh-heh~ H-How terrible…!”

Viola did as told, but also kept an eye open for a chance of escape. With Hex wobbling in that high-stepping pose, a window of possibility presented itself – and she would not risk losing it. She moved subtly closer to Hex, sneaking inward as if to earn a steeper angle upward, but once in the right position, she began her gambit and ran forward, dashing right under the witchy woman. It took courage to venture that path, the literal gravity of the situation pressing onto her as she felt Hex’s weight overhead, afraid it could drop any moment; she had to believe in Hex’s clumsiness, skipping past her grounded foot and around her heel, only looking back once to gauge the inevitable response.

“Hah? T-Trying to scurry away…?” Hex scoffed as she saw Viola slip under her and out of view, her foot still lifted as it had been. The defiance initially amused her; “Just like a bug~” she giggled, craning her head over her shoulder, twisting to watch the shrunken woman get behind her. It was Viola’s best effort, a great sprint to her, but Hex had generous time to react to the escape attempt, enough to conjure a particularly playful counter. “Heh-heh~ If this is how you want to play, then… l-look out…!”

Viola felt the shuddering of the floor as Hex rebalanced herself onto two feet, unaware of what means would be used to chase after her. In her haste, she did not look back, hoping to outrun Hex’s reach; she never expected Hex to throw herself after her, lunging backwards butt-first to the ground, intentionally collapsing to catch up with her. Viola realized too late, when the shadow of Hex’s hind had already covered her like a target, the rush of mass heard herdling after her. She braced for the crash– booooom! With the power of a bomb, Hex’s ass hit the floor, causing contents around the room to shiver, but no worse than how Viola was bounced by the impact – safe from being crushed, but completely tossed off-guard, laid flat on her back between two pale-toned legs.

Hex broke into cackles, a cage of fingers over her mouth to muffle her amusement. Blushing, she wondered what got into her, but passed those questions aside, prioritizing her shrunken photographer’s whereabouts. “I didn’t feel anything pop just now,” she remarked, looking to each side for Viola. She smiled curiously while shifting in her seat, pulling each flank of her ass up to check if her plaything was caught underneath; “Eh…? Where did you end up now…?”

Viola wondered the same thing, stirring from her dazed state to discover herself directionless in a terrain of skin and fabric. Striving still for freedom, she stumbled onward whichever way she was facing, reacting to how Hex’s thighs rose and turned like meaty machines; if she could remain unfound, she figured escape was still possible, and so she dug into the yellow color of the hoodie, tunneling between the fuzzy interior and the smooth wall of skin beside her.

Only so deep into the hem of the hoodie, however, did Hex then detect the tickle along her waist – a place she was highly unused to having touched. Her spine straightened in surprise, “E-Eeh! Wh-Where are you going?! H-Haha…!” She grabbed at the bump that was Viola, but failed to snatch her; Viola ventured deeper around the back of the hoodie, her panic making for a more tickling sensation. “Gah-hah! D-Do you even know wh-where you are?! A-Are you lost i-in the darkness of Mimikyu…? Ahah~ Y-You’re not supposed to see that, you know…”

Hex continued to grab over her body with attempts at pinning Viola in place, but her jittery laughter and reactions prevented her from getting a firm-enough grasp on the lump under her hoodie. For her part, Viola was lucky to always be squirming in the right direction, unable to see the hands that went hunting for her; she was lifted and tossed with Hex’s movements, sometimes clinging to the hoodie’s inner material, other times rolling across her back or down her sides. She eventually learned how effective it was to intentionally grope and irritate the giant body, causing waves of reactions that were Hex hopping in-place, bending forward, and then flopping onto the floor, shaken-up by an uncontrollable cackling.

Viola continued adaptively, responding to how the landscape of paleness twisted, always wary of where that weight might turn over next. She ran across Hex’s rib cage, each step making a shivery shockwave; she fell into her armpit, where the aroma of sweat was most intense, causing Viola to gag and scramble quickly. Where she ultimately ended up was a crevice – a valley of pillowy softness, assumed to be a nook of safety she took refuge in, where the plushness could not squeeze the life out of her. She deduced soon enough that it was Hex’s breasts she was between, without a bra and pressed to the ground; surprisingly bigger than they would be assumed to be under the hoodie, Viola was rightly overwhelmed while trying to slip forward, wedged to a point where going back was as difficult as going forward. The gym leader stressed red, her momentum and haste gone – slowed in a trap of warm, intoxicating flesh.

“Hah! Th-There you are…!” Hex laughed dryly as she pushed off the carpet, rising with her chest held forward and clutched in one arm. Both arms then went to support her bust, embracing the fat tightly, with emphasis put into where she felt Viola was caught in her cleavage. “Got you… No more running away~” With another squeeze, she tried to drain the adrenaline from the shrunken woman, successfully fatiguing her so that she might maneuver her between her breasts. By unzipping the front of her hoodie, Hex opened enough of her chest to unveil Viola’s head in the middle – a frazzled expression, her hair mopped by sweat and her own pokemon hoodie bunched up around her. Hex hung her head over her, almost drooling into her cleavage; she massaged her boobs in circles, enjoying how the excess skin enveloped Viola and squished around her. “Haah… M-My big, ugly boobs are c-completely swallowing you… I-I’m so sorry for you…~” she giggled quietly, her smile bent with genuine embarrassment; “They only ever… get in the way…”

“Ugh! Then just let me out of here!” Viola snarled, barely able to stay shoulders-up above the tides of tits. She exhausted herself in the humidity of the hoodie, each breath more strained than the last; droplets of sweat pooled around her, adding to her disgust towards her predicament. “It’s so… hot! H-How long have you been wearing this…?”

“A-All day,” Hex replied, “s-since I woke up…! I was so excited for Halloween~” She failed to understand why that fact burned Viola into a groan, yet still sympathized for her – in her own creep comprehension. “Gh… I’ve been a bad trick-or-treater… P-Perhaps I can make it up to you…? Oh– I can take your pictures now! We can swap places!”

Viola panted, “No… No more of this…! Just–” But Hex’s fingers fished at her, pinching the strap to her camera and forcing it up over her head. Viola tried grabbing at it back, but she sooner collapsed forward from fatigue, forfeiting her digital camera; the shrunken device was then shrunken no more, as a swirl of Hex’s hand undid the curse so simply, grown back to normal scale in her hand. It was an additional insult to top off the heap of humiliation, that her own camera, precious to her, was stolen right from her neck and into the possession of her captor. “Stop…! Y-You have no idea what you’re doing…” she winced, watching up overhead as Hex awed over the device and figured it out– cchk! Viola’s stare was punished harshly by the bright flash, unexpectedly snapped in a photograph Hex accidentally took.

“Oops… Hehe! Th-This isn’t so bad of a pic…!” Hex chuckled, admiring the image on the screen. Reclining against her bedside, she turned the camera to show Viola. “Look how t-tiny you are~” Indeed, the gym leader appeared especially minuscule in the photo, overtaken on all sides by bountiful breasts; her skyward expression, taken impromptu, highlighted her stress and weariness, a face of submission and fear towards what was out of frame. “Heh… You look… haunted…”
Cold fingers then peeled Viola from her sweaty nook and placed her in a palm, returned to where she had been before, only without her skittish energy, depleted and deflated. She had just the strength to shield her eyes from the flashes that bombarded her – a succession of photographs, shot messily from Hex’s one hand, capturing Viola’s weakness. Her despaired visage conflicted with Hex’s excitement, unable to refuse any of the pictures; when she turned and hid herself, she was aptly rolled the other way, forced towards the camera by the suggestion of a thumb and held down by its press. When she then kicked her legs in denial, she only contributed a more pained pose worthy of Hex’s artistic eye, encouraging more humiliating photos to be taken.

Inspired by the grim scenes, Hex giddily advanced the nature of the photoshoot, manipulating Viola into more precarious positions. Regardless of how the gym leader struggled, Hex easily took her Vivallon hoodie and slipped it off her body; she first forced the zipper down and exposed Viola’s garments underneath, before then plucking the prop wings and pulling the costume off entirely. Stripped to a white shirt and spandex, Viola squealed with frustration, hiding her features but still incapable of denying Hex’s curiosity; purple-colored nails pried at her remaining clothes, urging them off until the shrunken woman was flipped on her face, naked and defeated. All the while, her own camera snapped picture after picture, a frame-by-frame sequence of her humiliation, recorded for Hex’s entertainment.

Through the rest of Halloween night, cackling rang through the apartment. The gym leader Viola had succumbed to her torment, becoming a frail plaything to the Hex Maniac, a servant that modeled pitifully for pictures as well as took photos from her own belittled perspective. Even after the costumes were removed, Hex insisted on creating a story of images – painting a world of herself and a singular victim, a tale of terror that she willed to never end, as long as she kept Viola shrunken and weak, punished outrageously for having identified the pokemon her novelty hoodie.