Jane was too shocked to register what was going on around her. Dangerous doses of adrenaline coursed through her veins. The kind only a life or death situation could generate in the human body.
Above, her Mistress had already stopped paying attention to the makeshift ring she was in. Jane heard an electronic shutter sound coming from behind her. A selfie. A hint of her former life. Bile rose in her throat. Anguish? Regret? The pain of remembering. No, she was still set on living the pet life.
Jane used to be so busy all the time. At least it's what her boss would say. And her therapist. She simply considered it overwhelming. Of course, size play had always been on her radar. No one goes through a permanent shrinking procedure without a hint of that desperate longing to feel what it'd be like - just once. For Jane, it was an incurable recurrent thought. A brainworm burrowed deep within her mind, that even years of corporate grind couldn't completely erase. The rat race. The hook Mistress Kay had used to finally convince her to give all of herself up.
The young domme had become her escape. Her perfectly curated social media channels offered a pragmatic, yet seemingly idyllic alternative to the endless toil her life had become. Sure, she'd be no one and have nothing, but wasn't this the point? Abandon everything - her aspirations, goals, dreams - so she could let someone else decide for her? It didn't take long after that for Jane to reach out to Mistress Kay via private messages. Less than a month later, she'd been puking over her hardwood floor, barely an inch tall, between the perfectly polished Louboutins of her new owner. The shrinking process sucked.
"I'm taking a break. You did well - again. Good girl." Kay spoke softly, covering the shivering shrunken woman with the soft blanket of her warm breath. Jane thanked her Mistress. Gratefulness lost on deaf ears. The giant domme had already stood up and left. Warm blood tickled Jane’s knee.
After a few months of letting go, occasionally having to shine her Mistress' barely scratched shoes, she'd finally been put to work - for real. Her initial tribute had run out, and if she wanted to continue living in her owner's care, she'd have to earn her keep. It wasn't a surprise, but it still hurt when it happened. Back then, she didn't think the memory of seeing another shrinky explode under her Mistress' combat boots while the dark lense of her phone filmed it all would ever stop haunting her.
Months later, it felt trivial. One of Mistress Kay's perverted benefactors had taken a liking to Jane, and they'd been willing to pay for weekly 10min custom videos in which the shrunken woman would have to fight to the death with another shrinky. Since then, Jane had fought a dozen of her kind. Men, women, it didn't matter. She'd given up too much for her well-deserved pet life, and she wasn't about to let it go so easily. Once Mistress Kay dropped the needles from the heavens, she'd show her adversaries a ferocity that hadn't failed her yet.
Marion was her 13th victim. Kneeling in her blood, watching her lifeless corpse, she once again asked herself - why? Who wanted to see her suffer so badly? Was there really someone out there enjoying themselves enough to spend thousands each month on her sufferings? When she laid in her box at night, Jane imagined who could possibly wish her this much harm.
Her former intern spending her recently increased payslips on torturing her former boss? A bitchy ex? Maybe just someone she scorned and couldn't even remember? Jane would have preferred it to make sense, but knew better. It was far more likely that it was none of these. Chances were it was a random pervert who'd taken a sadistic liking to seeing her in pain. After all, she had ordered a few custom videos from Mistress Kay herself before deciding it wasn't enough to satisfy her. She would have done the same.
Whatever it was, Jane would not abandon her new life so easily. She'd given up too much to get there. Left too many important things behind her to live the pet life. If her online tortioner was set on seeing her pay a high price, she'd make sure they do too.
On her left, the web page on Mistress Kay's laptop refreshed itself. The social media channel she knew so well. Jane saw her own back, kneeling down in shrinky blood:
"@MistressKay [8:47am]
Shooting Customs today. Have a fantasy you want me to bring to life? DM me now 💋"