Erica groaned as she woke up. She couldn’t remember falling asleep at her desk, but with the amount of studying she had to do, it really wasn’t a surprise. She looked at the stack of books on the desk in front of her and sighed. With a big college exam the next day, she didn’t really need her depression stress to settle in again.
She looked at the scars on her arms, running her fingers over the rough lines. She hadn’t done any cutting since high school, although she’d come close a few times. She knew it was hardly a safe way to relieve her stress, but she found that when she had used to cut, she would seem to be distracted from her stress. From the feeling of worthlessness that seemed to have returned with a vengeance.
‘You are nothing,’ her inner voice seemed to be saying. ‘You don’t belong here at university.’
She stood up. She had a razor blade in the bathroom. A few new cuts over the old scars would hopefully quiet the voices.
She had barely gotten away from her desk when she heard a rattle on the desktop. She turned around to see her bottle of medication rolling across the desk. She sighed; the pills never helped her, so why bother with them? The thoughts that followed however suddenly came to her. ‘How the heck did the pills get on the desk?’
Walking back over to the desk, razor blade in her hand, she saw a rustling from under a pile of papers. She lifted it slowly, ready with a book in her hand to crush whatever might be under there.
With all the thoughts of what might be under there, she hadn’t expected what was actually there. She looked at what could only be described as her twin. A three inch tall twin!
She dropped down into her chair and stared. The diminutive duplicate of herself was dressed exactly the same as she was. “How…? Who…?”
The tiny Erica walked closer to her across the desktop. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but I really can’t answer them. I am you after all; I know the same things you know, think the same things you think, and feel the same things you feel.” She looked at the razor blade, which was roughly the same size as her. “Don’t do that to us, please.”
“What do you mean ‘us?’?”Erica asked her diminished doppelganger. She really didn’t want to do it, but she gently ran the blade across her left forearm, watching blood well from the cut. She gasped, looking to the tiny, who was clutching her own arm; a matching cut newly bloomed.
The tiny ran up and kicked her giant version’s finger in anger. “I told you not to do that to us! Anything you do to yourself will happen to me. Why would you go back at cutting?”
“I feel relieved and less anxious after I cut,” Giant Erica said, nearly quoting verbatim something she’d read online about self cutting. “The emotional pain slowly slips away into the physical pain.”
The tiny rolled her eyes. “It was a rhetorical question. I know what you know, I think…”
“Yeah yeah,” Erica interrupted. “I get it, but I don’t see you offering any helpful advice.” She looked at the tiny and smiled. “I got it! You said anything I did to myself would happen to you. What if I were to do something to you?”
The tiny grew scared and took a step back. “I…I don’t know,” she stuttered.
“Let’s find out,” Erica said, flicking her finger against her little lookalike’s head.
The tiny fell to the desktop, screaming from the pain in her head, but Erica could feel nothing of the pain in her. She looked again at the tiny with a smile. One of her most secret fantasies had come to life before her: she’d always dreamed of being a giantess, and now in a strange way she was. She could hurt this tiny. She would hurt this tiny.
The tiny Erica stood up and turned to run across the desk. Erica let her fingers slowly creep across the desk, taunting her tiny victim. ‘When did I start seeing her as a victim?’
Thinking it would be best to make it quick; Erica raised her hand to swat the tiny. As her hand came down towards the desktop, the tiny moved at the last second, dodging completely. After two more attempted swats, she dropped her hand to her lap and stared at the tiny. “How do you keep dodging me?”
Her tiny twin giggled. “I’m you, remember? I know what you are going to do before you do it.” She walked forward slowly. “Listen; there is no need for us to act this way. I know all about our fantasies, and I know that you think giving in to those dominant feelings will make you feel better about ourselves, but it won’t work.”
“You don’t know that,” Erica said, reaching out with her hand and grabbing the tiny. “You aren’t as smart as you think you are. You claim that you know what I am thinking and planning before I do it, yet I was just able to catch you.”
Erica was thrilled by the feeling of the tiny struggling to slip from her fingers. She gently slid one of her fingers around her reduced replica’s waist and slid her shirt up. “Do I really have that much of a belly?” she said, as she used her thumb to massage the bare skin of tiny Erica’s belly.
The tiny shuddered. She had enjoyed aspects of both ends of the giantess spectrum: being the dominant or the submissive depending on her mood. And now she was, in a weird way, enjoying both at the same time.
“You look like you are enjoying that,” said Erica, as she pulled the shirt off of the tiny completely, revealing the tiny breasts of her captive clone. “But we both know that we enjoy a crueler master.” Without warning, Erica raised the tiny to her lips and bit into the arm, ripping off the entire lower half of it with a growl of satisfaction.
Tiny Erica screamed in agony as her left arm was suddenly much shorter than it had been mere seconds before. Tears ran down her face as she looked into her own giant eyes, looking at her with no sense of love. This was self-harm at its deadliest, and tiny Erica knew that these events would scar them both in different ways.
Erica laid her tiny twin on the floor. “Strip, bug,” she commanded, and tiny Erica quickly tried to comply as best as she could with only one arm. “Pl-please,” she squeaked, as she stood on the floor, now naked. “I-I don’t…”
BOOM! Without warning, Erica’s foot slammed down on her miniscule mirror image. She giggled as she lifted her foot back up to examine the damage she had caused.
Tiny Erica could barely make a sound as she looked up. Her legs were both broken, and she was sure that her ribs had been snapped from the pressure. She wasn’t really sure how she was still alive.
Erica kneeled over her dying double. “You know, I feel a lot better all of a sudden. I must thank you for helping me relieve some of the stress I was suffering from.” She gently slid her hand under the broken remains of her small spitting image. “What I am about to do may seem cruel, but it will end your suffering.” She smiled. “I want you to be part of me again.”
Battered and bruised, the tiny Erica was both terrified and excited at the same time, as her broken body was lifted upwards from the floor towards the mouth of her giant clone. ‘We were one. Then we were two. Now we shall be one again,’ she thought to herself as she was gently laid on a tongue, and pulled into a cavernous version of her own mouth. She didn’t struggle, feeling pride that she had helped herself in this little way. As she slid down towards the back of the mouth, she gently ran her fingers along the side of the throat. “Take care of us,” she said aloud as she slipped from consciousness.
As the smaller version of herself ceased to be, a sense of calm settled over Erica. She smiled as she sat down at her desk and lifted her book up, paying no mind to the small bloodstain on her chin.