Ventredi

Weldon woke up the next day with a stiff back. He stretched on his little bed, then got up painfully and toddled to the kitchen to start coffee and reheat last night’s leftovers.

The story was going well, he thought. It was a fresh idea and he was excited about it: a man had been shrunken down to tiny size, and his girlfriend was struggling to accept it. Elise, the girlfriend, loved him very much and she knew he was into this kink, but when the man, Nick, actually shrank down due to a lab experiment, it was almost too much to cope with.

Many people had written about this before, but Weldon was doing something different. He was exploring each of the characters and showing how they thought and felt. He really tried to imagine Elise’s POV, how she just wanted a normal relationship and she didn’t want to abandon Nick in his time of need, but she was worried about her needs not being met.

Nick just wanted a lot of sex that he wasn’t getting.

With a clove cigarette hanging from his lips and the second cup of coffee drained, Weldon lifted his hands from the typewriter and looked at the several pages he’d written, almost pleased.

He went off to the bathroom to shower and, of course, Anaïs was there waiting for him when he got back. He never understood why she liked to yank his towel away; one day, he might let her.

“Anaïs,ma déesse,” he called out to her, holding up the manuscript. “I have something very new to share with you today. I hope… no, just tell me what you think.” He gave her the tiny pages and the giantess somehow held them in her fingertips and was able to read them. Weldon changed while the giantess read.

He became nervous, pacing around the apartment, padding back and forth over the hardwood floor in his socks. He knew Anaïs was a tough critic, and he wanted her approval more than anything.

When she finished reading, Anaïs looked up at him and smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Oh, Weldon, this is brilliant! You have captured the emotions so well, especially Elise’s struggle with accepting Nick’s size. And the dialogue is so realistic. I can’t wait to see where you take this story.”

Relief flooded through Weldon. He grinned, feeling like he had just passed an important test. “Thank you, Anaïs. I’m glad you like it.”

They spent the rest of the morning discussing the story, with Anaïs offering suggestions and feedback. Weldon felt energized and inspired, ready to dive back into the writing. He knew he still had a lot of work to do, but with Anaïs’s guidance, he felt like he could create something truly special.

Weldon leaned against the iron balustrade. “So, Elise is very easy to write.”

Anaïs arched a fine eyebrow. “C’est vrai?”

“Yes, she’s complex, but that gives me lots of room to explore all the different things she’s feeling. Nick is much harder: he’s always wanted a giantess to have sex with, and now he has one but he can’t get any sex.” Weldon shrugged. “Men are simple, but not so easy to write.”

Anaïs looked dubious, pouting cutely by the balcony. The strong winds flowed through long, thick hair, hardly moving it.

“Uh-oh, you’re thinking of something you’re not saying.”

Anaïs nodded, looking down at Weldon. “It is not that men are simple, but that they have been simplified in the world you live in. Do you not think that men have their own complexities, their own desires, and their own struggles?”

Weldon looked up at her, abashed. “I’m sorry, Anaïs. You’re right, of course. I’m guilty of simplifying people in my writing. But I want to do better. I want to explore the depths of all my characters, no matter who they are or what gender they are.”

Anaïs smiled at him warmly. “I know you do, Weldon. And I believe in you. You have the ability to create wonderful stories that touch the hearts of many. Just remember to always strive for more depth and nuance in your characters.”

Weldon felt a little bad. Nick was a fictional character, but Weldon sold him short. If he didn’t find Nick interesting, how was the reader supposed to? No, Nick deserved to be more than a caricature. Anaïs was brilliant and Weldon took her very seriously.

“I’m sorry, Anaïs,” Weldon said, looking down at his feet. “You’re right, Nick deserves to be more than just a one-dimensional character. I need to dig deeper into what makes him tick and what he really wants, beyond just his kink for giantesses. Maybe he wants something more meaningful than just sex, but he’s struggling to communicate it.”

Anaïs nodded approvingly, her lips forming a soft smile. “Now, you are thinking. This is good, Weldon. Keep exploring, keep digging. And remember, I am here to help you.”

Weldon felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. He was so lucky to have Anaïs as his muse, to guide and inspire him. He took a deep breath and headed back to his desk, ready to tackle Nick’s character with fresh eyes.

Weldon typed up a storm, rewriting Nick, brainstorming new motivations and contradictions within the man. This had to make him more interesting to Elise, which was good, because in the story she was starting to drift from him. Now that her miniature boyfriend was more real, Elise was surely more invested in the relationship.

He looked up at the giantess waiting outside. Anaïs stood patiently by, nearly as tall as the vintage building he lived in. She regarded the city with wistful eyes, and he wondered what she was thinking. In fact, he wondered what he could do for her. His muse had saved his bacon so many times, it made him feel like a bottomless pit of needs.

As he pondered this, Weldon had an idea. He stepped away from his typewriter and approached Anaïs, looking up at her in awe.

“Anaïs, my muse,” he said, “I want to do something for you. Something special. You’ve given me so much, and I want to give something back to you.”

Anaïs tilted her head, curious.

“I was thinking… What if I wrote a story just for you? A story that’s all about you, and your life, and your adventures. I know I could never capture everything about you in a story, but I want to try. Would you like that?”

Anaïs’s eyes widened with surprise and delight. She looked down at Weldon with a soft smile.

“Oh, Weldon,” she said, “that would be… wonderful. I never thought anyone would want to write about me.”

Weldon beamed up at her, thrilled that he could do something to make her happy. “Great! Then it’s settled. I’ll get to work on it right away.”

He ran back to his typewriter, excited by the prospect of writing a story just for Anaïs. This was a new challenge, but he was determined to make it his best work yet.

Written in collaboration with ChatGPT