Seconds after the door closed on her last and most difficult patient for the day, Dr. Penelope Rodriguez unlocked her phone and opened her notifications like an addict jonesing for her next hit. It wasn’t the phone that drew her, or even the notification or the message waiting from her favorite submissive, Beth, who was currently in training to become a Dom in her own right. No, Penny was drawn to the certainty that she’d have real power tonight.
After all day—all week—listening to people’s convoluted problems and counseling them on boundaries, consent, and healthy relationships, she was ready for someone to finally fucking obey her. She was ready to punish the real and imagined transgressions of that sexy little twenty-something brat.
Penny’s grin faded. Her nails dug into the meat of her palms as she read Beth’s message canceling their longstanding Friday night “training” session. “Mistress, forgive me. My oldest friend showed up at my place asking for help. He’s a mess. May I ask permission to comfort him tonight, and reschedule until tomorrow?”
“Permission granted,” Penny typed slowly, gritting her teeth. “I’d better not hear that you were using your training improperly,” she wrote back, knowing Beth had struggled with the temptation to dominate someone before she was ready.
It went beyond that, Penny knew. The phrase “comfort him” left her with a sick sense of jealousy unbecoming of a Dominant with her training and experience. Then again, as she’d explained to her final patient that day, there were other ways to get her needs met.
Three hours and a large bottle of wine later, Penny’s quiet evening at home had earned her an angry red watercolor painting and two unsatisfying almost-orgasms.
A text interrupted her second “orgasm” and she wasn’t even angry. “Mistress, I need your help. Can I come over?”
Beth had changed her mind, after all. Penny wondered if she’d staged the cancellation as a way to get an especially bad punishment tonight.
Dr. Penelope Rodrìguez flung herself toward her closet and her extensive collection of BDSM play gear with less than dignified excitement and began making selections. By the time the doorbell rang, none of her patients would have recognized the fierce and intimidating woman with red corset over an hourglass figure, patent leather boots, fishnets, and miniskirt.
Beth barely noticed any of it.
She pushed through the door, seemingly in a panic. “Mistress, thank God.” Her face and skin were icy cold as she pressed into Penny’s bosom, wrapping her arms around her corset and shuddering with relief. “You’re not going to believe me,” she was saying. “But you’re the only one I could trust.”
Penny wobbled on her heels but held her younger protégé, surprised by the depth of reaction. “No hat, no gloves. You cancel on me, then show up with barely any warning. What’s the crisis?” She looked over Beth’s shoulder into the snowy twilight. “No friend, either?” She couldn’t help but smirk a little at the evidence that the friend had been part of the story.
Beth looked up at her miserably. “He’s here with me, actually. I… I lost him.”
“You brought your friend to my house?” Penny released Beth to look outside, then shut the door against the cold and prying eyes.
“I wouldn’t! I mean, I would never, normally! But I had to. Because, you see… we… He just went through a rough day and was so lonely and he started behaving like a sub and I got a rush from caring for him, making him take care of himself…”
Penny gasped, genuinely shocked. “You disobeyed me.” Her voice went cold. Beth had been bratty and disobedient in many ways before, but always within a scene. This was a whole new level. Was she already in scene, then? It was their regular Friday night session, after all.
Beth fell to her knees. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I crossed a line.”
“I thought you were almost ready to attempt a supervised scene as a Dom. Clearly I was mistaken.” Penny frowned. “What did you do to him, anyway? You didn’t leave him somewhere, did you?”
Beth shook her head, then bowed it in shame. “Punish me however you want, but I need your help first. Something happened while he was in subspace. He got... smaller. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Penny tried to make sense of it. He got smaller? She herself had experienced the way a person’s identity could shrink when they found new levels of submissiveness. She preferred the way she felt big as a Dominant.
Was this Beth’s way of introducing a new fantasy? They knew each other well enough to enjoy scenes without always needing to negotiate first. She hadn’t used their safe word yet. Had she? Penny normally didn’t play after alcohol, but she didn’t feel more than buzzed from the wine. And Beth needed her.
“Mistress, I was an idiot,” Beth said. “I know I should have stopped there. But you know how the power trip feels! How hard it is to stop. I made a mistake. He wanted to take things further, even though he was small. I’ve never seen a man so aroused. Or so small.”
Penny wasn’t sure which irritated her more, her own irrational jealousy, or
“If you wanted me to punish you, you could have just asked,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I love theatrics as much as the next diva, but don’t you think this is a bit elaborate?”
“Mistress, you don’t understand.” Beth shook her head. “This is not a joke. I really, genuinely need your help.” She bit her lip. “I lost him… inside me.”
Penny glared at her. “I’ll help you,” she said, playing along. “After all, this is my fault. I was too lenient with you. Into the bedroom, now. Pull down your panties and bend over the spanking bench.”
* * *
Beth felt almost high with relief as she sank gratefully down over the familiar spanking bench. All the weight of her terror for her friend Mark sank down with her. She was heavy with regret and shame at having failed two of the most important people in her life. But her Mistress would fix this. She could trust her Mistress to find her friend.
She craved punishment, too. Something sharp and painful that would tear away the shame and leave her raw and chastened and lighter and free from this weight. She didn’t deserve it, but she wanted it anyway. Please find him. Please. And please punish me for fucking up this badly.
Her body was already responding to the scent of the leather. She lifted up her hips, reached between her legs, and with two careful fingers she pushed open her pussy to let in a little pocket of air. She inspected her fingertips with all the intensity of a human microscope, but found no sign of him. How small was he? Had she given him enough air? Had she hurt him? How was this nightmare even possible?
Hang in there, Mark. Wherever you are.
* * *
Miles away, and yet only millimeters from the immensity of Beth’s fingertips, Mark struggled to free himself from the weight of his best friend’s labia minora. He was still shrinking, but at least he was no longer swimming through the strange underwater crevasses filled with pussy juices—and the lubricant Beth had coated him with when he was still six inches tall. He wasn’t gasping for little pockets of stale air. And he was almost free. Then it was only about half a mile to hike and climb upwards to the clitoris, the only place he might get Beth’s attention.
A surge of light drenched him as he pulled free from the pressing weight of the sweat-slick labia. Each crinkly pink fold loomed larger than a tidal wave.
He looked up at the strange, distant, and distorted world and realized Beth wasn’t wearing her panties. She was presenting herself to someone.
That someone approached like continental drift, immense beyond understanding. Diamond shapes formed themselves into fishnet stockings. Legs. Mark craned his head back so far that he slipped and fell backward onto the slick pink labia. Juices formed a light suction along his back and buttocks, holding him in place as he squinted upward.
A face approached, like a mountain monument carved from stone. His brain practically folded in on itself as he made sense of the features exponentially larger than his own. He gasped.
Beth was baring her most intimate parts... to Dr. Rodrìguez. His therapist.
Mark was dumbstruck. He felt more naked than he’d ever felt in his life as Dr. Rodrìguez scrutinized Beth’s vulva.
Hours ago he’d left her office in humbled tears, desperate for comfort. Beth had offered him that comfort even when he’d faced a sense of smallness that pushed his actual body to dwindle in size. She’d celebrated it with him. And now…
Now it took all he had not to dive between the folds of his friend’s pussy to hide from those eyes. He should have waved. He should have screamed. He just watched as the mountainous face smirked... drunkenly? She soared away.
If Dr. Rodrìguez moved like a drunken drifting continent, then he was in no way prepared for the earthquake. SMACK. Ripples of flesh undulated under him and around him. Whipcords of leather lightning flashed above him like a kraken. SMACK. Far away and close, close by, he could hear and feel Beth shriek. His own panicked scream drowned in it. SMACK.
“STOP!” he screamed, as the leather strips whipped his enormous friend. SMACK. Beth bucked and fought, sending him sliding down the heaving vulva toward her enormous cunt.
“STOP! Please!” He broke a little, then. Something shifted in his body, like red hot certainty. “I’ll do better! You were right, I was wrong!” The certainty choked him.
“I was wrong, Dr. Rodrìguez, I’m sorry!” He coughed out sobs as the assault cracked thunderously against Beth’s skin. SMACK.
For the first time in this ordeal, Mark felt his body begin to expand. He cried out in surprise, looking at his hands with elation. Certainty.
Beth’s clit already looked closer, a mere football field away. He struggled to his feet and began the climb to that throbbing round mountain peak, pausing to brace himself between each walloping SMACK. She slowly stopped fighting. Ominous moans pulsed through her skin.
He was exhausted but nearly a centimeter tall when he finally touched the hood of Beth’s clitoris. She jerked, an aftershock of surprise. He didn’t have time to be gentle, but spanked her clit hard. Above him, the monstrous whip had gone still but he smacked again for all he was worth. His immense best friend moaned, crying out words he couldn’t hope to understand.
A clear, cold liquid splashed down onto him like a thick, viscous waterfall, unexpected and unwelcome. It tasted like the lubricant Beth had coated him with before, and Mark coughed and looked up with dread, wiping the syrupy mess from his eyes.
Far beyond him, Dr. Rodrìguez pulled black straps at her hips. Disturbingly close, the round knob of a bright red sex toy bobbed up and down like a breaching submarine.
He was about to be fucked into his best friend by his own therapist.
Mark gave up on trying to signal Beth, who raised her hips and dropped them. More moans. She was hungry for this, and he was alone again.
He clung to her clit like a boulder in a storm as sobs seized his uncertain body. Dr. Rodrìguez’s strap-on descended on him as if he were an enemy to be fucked into submission. “Please,” he whispered, as the reach of his arms shrank too small to hold onto his friend.
He slid lower, shrinking, knowing he should fill his lungs again as he faced the monster.
“Please?” he asked, instead.