Skip to content

Tag: microphilia

Kinky Scribbles: Nude on a Cloth Napkin

Kinky Scribbles installment five! This writing exercise has been so immensely helpful to me as a tool to break past my anxieties as a writer.

I make notes about how long it took me to write and edit because I’m trying to recalibrate my sense of when something is “done enough” to share.

In the past I would write a thing and leave it in my files to collect dust because I was convinced it needed some unknowable quantity of edits, a goal with constantly shifting measures of success. When I limit myself to a scribble, the path becomes so much clearer. It’s been really good practice for me, so I’m going to keep it up for the foreseeable future.

Nude on a Cloth Napkin

(F/m, Giantess, male tiny, shrinking, mouthplay, food play, adultery, noncon, nudity, humiliation)

Note: the word napkin is US usage, not UK where it apparently means a diaper for a baby. Here it’s the piece of cloth you use to clean up during a meal.

465 words, 45 mins writing, 20 mins editing

Kinky Scribbles: Body Pillow

Today’s kinky scribble is brought to you by my cold, frustrated sizefeels this morning. Thanks, size dysmorphia.

And far more sincere thanks to my friend Dick, the Micro Giant, who let me roleplay this little comfort scene off and on today to work through these feelings.

Ten minutes. Just a scribble. Let go of whatever you think this needs to be, Elle. Just write.

(Ten minutes turned into an hour and a half of writing, with another half hour of edits. I never know if I should feel pleased at my accomplishment when this happens, or annoyed with my inability to keep my projects small. I do feel really good about this one, though.)


Kinky Scribbles: Body Pillow

(M/f, male Giant, female tiny, shrinking, cuddles, comfort)
1020 words, est. 1.5 hours of writing, 0.5 hours of editing

Ornamental: An erotic holiday story

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash, shared with a Creative Commons License: https://unsplash.com/photos/AF_4tBQjdtc

“It’s magic,” Irena whispered. She, too, ran a finger down Mora’s tiny body and the tiny woman felt more beautiful under their shared gaze than she had in years. She felt strangely powerful, in spite of her size… She felt drunk on the feeling, as if the rational part of her were willingly taking a back seat to the glorious rush of pleasure and power.

 

“And so, shrunk down, strapped to a tiny dildo, little more than decoration for a party she should have been hosting, Mora shuddered and spasmed and cried out with her first orgasm of the day.”

 

Hello, my lovelies! One of my goals for the new year is to share more imperfect writing, so today I’m sharing a Winter Solstice gift: a 10K word sizeplay story featuring lesbian sex at a holiday party, succubus magic, shrinking, objectification, mind control, humiliation, dubcon, unaware, scissoring, mouthplay, insertion, and more.

I was inspired by this tweet from @CallMeIthaca:

I responded with this retweet, but the fantasy stayed with me and I decided to try it in a story.

I wrote it in one marathon writing session, and I’m deliberately giving it to you after only two hours of editing today. Why? Because stories that collect digital dust in my files don’t bring pleasure to anyone. Editing is good, but editing as a way to postpone being vulnerable is not serving my goals as a writer. I have to learn that it’s better to let them go before I’m completely satisfied. (I’ll never be completely satisfied.) In an effort to re-calibrate my sense of “this is good enough to release into the wild,” I’m going to share more content with deliberately fewer rounds of editing. I’m tired of holding back, so I’m going to let myself be imperfect. It seems like the only way forward.

One other thing holding me back is that I know I will need content for Kindle once I begin publishing. I write a story and stare at it, deliberating. Should I post it to my website and share it for free? Should I hold onto it and polish it more and publish it on Kindle? Or is it possible that maybe, just maybe, these questions are keeping me frozen in place, not sharing content or moving closer to my goal of publication?

This story is a little messy. It’s a little dark, because I was in a dark place when I wrote it, and all I wanted was to be owned and objectified and to lose myself in pleasing someone else. There were parts I considered cutting, parts I think need more polish and clarity.

But you know what? Sex is messy, too. I have never had a single experience of perfect sex, and if I had waited for perfection I would have missed so many wonderful, beautiful, intense moments of intimacy and connection with real, genuine, messy, and sexy people. I would never have had any sex at all, and sex is one of my favorite pastimes! So. Fuck perfection. Have some free erotica.

Read the full story behind the cut.

Erotica Contest: The Therapist Will See You Now

Photo credit to JC Gellidon on Unsplash, shared with a Creative Commons License: unsplash.com/photos/HODf717sOkA

“Being lost in the folds of a submissive woman’s labia, her domme lover not believing any part of this ‘shrinking friend’ story. Then the discipline starts. Hot damn, that’s hot.”

I’m proud to share “The Therapist Will See You Now,” my entry for the Cruel January 2019 SizeRiot Erotica Contest, hosted by the hardworking and talented Aborigen-gts​. The story tied for second place in the “Most Arousing” category.

I appreciate the feedback I received for this story, which was not as cruel as I originally intended to make it. As always, I’m deeply grateful to my beta readers and everyone who read my work and reviewed it.

What did people enjoy most about this story? Here’s what the readers had to say:

Most Arousing:

A story that manages to be playful, in-your-face, and casual in its sexiness.

Being lost in the folds of a submissive woman’s labia, her domme lover not believing any part of this “shrinking friend” story. Then the discipline starts. Hot damn, that’s hot.

A domme using a strap-on on your girlfriend while you’re trapped at ground zero? Speaks for itself.

The entire setup was just so sexy. I loved the unaware aspect. The desperate shrinking. Really well done.

Best Main Character:

Dr. Rodriguez was well-developed. Her smallest reactions spoke volumes about her personality, which was both intimidating and attractive. I would love to see more of her in action.

Dr. Rodriguez had such a strong and commanding personality. Very good and dominant.

Interesting Size Difference:

it was a great use of unaware and micro scenarios. The dominant giantess was not even aware of the tiny, nor would she seem to care if she knew. The tiny was truly insignificant to the others.

Solid Writing:

The characters were dynamic. It was sexy. The set up was unique.

More by This Author:

Such a strong solid take on extreme sizes with immediately grabbing and developed characters.

General Comments:

If I could commission an image to be made from a single scene from any of the stories in this entire contest, it would be the silhouette of Mark looking out from Beth’s labia up at the smirking scrutiny of Dr. Rodriguez.

You get the specialest of props for incorporating actual BDSM themes into size works, extra special for combining them with a tight cast of extremely colorful interesting characters. Also, hot giga epic cruelty. A+.

Ready for more? I added 600+ words back into the story after submission. You have two options to enjoy:

AUDIO VERSION: Listen to a 20-minute author-read version of the story here. Thanks to Dick, The Micro Giant, for Audio Engineering this piece. He takes commissions!

TEXT VERSION: Read the full story behind the cut.

Size Dysmorphia: A Sizeshifter Origin Story

A small, pale human figure is shown reclining in a red and pink anatomical depiction of a heart. Veins, arteries, and capillaries twine around the tiny person's arms and legs like tree roots. Artwork credit to Shelia Liu.

Heart, by Shelia Liu[Shared under a Creative Commons Attribution, NonCommercial, NoDerivatives 4.0 License.]

Content warnings: some NSFW artwork and language, discussion of body dysmorphic disorder, gender dysphoria, grief, gun violence, depression, neurodivergence, kink, microphilia, macrophilia, and shame

 

Introduction: arguments with my body

It will come as no surprise to you that I’m sitting at a table in a chair with my feet on the ground, while my hands type comfortably on a laptop. You—and most of the people who know and love me—might be intrigued to know that my senses also tell me I can lift my hand and touch the ceiling with no trouble, because it’s dangerously close to brushing my head.

Would you like me to open the front door, fifteen feet away? It’s within easy reach. Or, at least, that’s the argument my body makes.

My senses agree I’m sitting at the table in the usual way, but they also feed me contradictory information about the walls seeming to close in around me, about how there’s no space for my knees and legs between the table and the wall, no way this chair should be able to support my weight, and no way that my fingers could possibly type on a laptop that feels like a toy for a doll.

If I close my eyes, the sensation intensifies and logic takes a backseat to a kinesthetic awareness of overwhelming size. Some days I feel overwhelming smallness instead, as if everything is huge and heavy and beyond my isolated reach.

Luckily for me, if I open my eyes again, I’m able to use the visual information to combat the strange, contradictory physical information. I concentrate on the evidence of my eyes and wage a war against my kinesthetic senses—the same kind of battle I’ve been fighting quietly since childhood.

In some circles, this experience is known as size dysmorphia: a sense that your body’s size feels larger or smaller than you know it to be.

I know that I stand five feet, two inches tall. I know that my body does not change in size. And yet, it’s as if some ancient part of my brain and body refuse to completely accept this data.

Sometimes it happens without warning, like a radio shifting channels and offering music and static from two different stations. Sometimes I go for days without noticing anything unusual, my broadcast uninterrupted on a steady playlist of “five-foot-two” with no interruptions.

When I feel a sizeshift coming on, sometimes I groan inwardly and grit my teeth. Other times, I try to induce the feeling myself, just for the sheer joy and arousal and exhilaration of it. Few sensations are as empowering as a sense that you stand twice as tall as everyone around you.

Until about three years ago, I refused to tell anyone.

I assumed I would take the secret to my grave.

 

ADULT CONTENT WARNING

This site includes content intended for adults only. Depending on your location, you must be at least 18 or 21 to enter. If you’re under 18 and are seeking sex positive resources, stop reading now and visit scarleteen.com.