• Corrective Partnerships

    Corrective Partnerships

    Right before some of the skyscrapers shattered and crumpled, he glimpsed his own reflection. Read more

  • Living Alone, 2

    Living Alone, 2

    The last thing I needed was to trip and land on my ass, helpless before the approaching spider. Read more

  • Reading ‘The Shrinking Man’

    Reading ‘The Shrinking Man’

    Scott Carey is a pill. As a shrink-fetish fan, there are several times I wish he would’ve just shut the fuck up and availed himself of his wife. Read more

  • Recounting Two

    Recounting Two

    Her entire world was hazy and wrapped in cotton, all except for this little circle of focus that contained a tiny, handsome man. Read more

  • Dream: Hunted!

    Dream: Hunted!

    I wanted to climb over her foot, scramble inside her jeans, and kiss her skin. So why was I fleeing? Read more

  • Support on Patreon

    Support on Patreon

    I’ve written hundreds of short stories for 20 years, for free. Now I’d like to see who would care to step up and support me on Patreon. Read more

  • GentleApril17

    GentleApril17

    Did I even still have a place in the giantess-fetish scene? Here was April, and I was supposed to write a story for the informal competition. Read more

  • Lingumagnification

    Lingumagnification

    “This dork found a book full of weird words. He read me some and when he got to a long one, I grew.” Read more

  • Went on Hiatus; What Pleasures Await Us

    Went on Hiatus; What Pleasures Await Us

    I’m not going to stop writing size fetish stories, but I need to shunt more effort toward my professional, editorial blog. Read more

  • Writing Exercise: A Terrible Thing To Do

    Writing Exercise: A Terrible Thing To Do

    “Hey, feral Tinies need love too, you know.” His giantess’s butt plummeted into the couch beside him. “Right, little guy?” Read more

  • Living Alone

    Living Alone

    The torn steel bit into the flesh, no problem, and I shoved the pole behind it with all my strength. I jiggled the pole, waggled it back out, stabbed again. This, over and over until I could wedge my hands into the incisions, meeting at the apex of the wedge of meat I’d carved. Fluids ran Read more

  • Petia the Witch, pt. 4

    Petia the Witch, pt. 4

    Milan rubbed his chin. The table on which he stood was new but Petia hadn’t seen fit to get rid of the motley assortment of chairs around it, at least. Read more