Maia continued smiling down at him as her mouth parted in that same silvery laugh. Her eyes opened wider and quickly went through a rapid series of colors as she laughed at him, shaking her head.
"Maia! Please! Please!!" cried Timothy, stumbling over to her leg and clutching it desperately. Her flesh was soft and cool, yet undeniably strong and firm. His body wrapped around her lower leg as shut his eyes tightly, begging and pleading to the sound of her laughter in his ears, to no avail. He had no idea how long this went on — time seemed to stand still as he fought in his mind to direct his intention to the goddess's will, hoping beyond hope that he could somehow convince her to stop this torment, this curse that he had brought upon himself. With a sudden sweet-smelling gush of wind, he felt her presence leave him and he opened his eyes. He was standing on the balcony again, alone, with only the trailing hints of rose-scented breeze left as an indication of the recently-departed divine presence.
The balcony door opened and Beatrice came out.
"There you are," she said, stumbling a bit as she walked toward him. She had clearly had a few drinks. She reached down to take him roughly by the hand, but quickly realized with a knowing smile that she couldn't even reach it. Timothy didn't know how he could still be surprised, but he was taken aback by her presence. She had grown even more.
"As much as I'd love to stay," she said as she rose back up, shooing him towards the door, "it's time to go home. I've got stuff to do tomorrow, you know. Some of us have to work." She chuckled as she bent down to ruffle his hair. "You're probably thanking your stars you have someone like me," she said. "You know I have tons of male clients who would literally sell their homes and leave their wives and families if it meant they could be with me...you know that?"
"Uhhh...y-yeah, of...of course," said Timothy, distracted by how huge she seemed. The top of his head was exactly at her kneecap, which looked to him like it was as big as a large plate. As they went in through the balcony door, Beatrice actually had to duck her head a little to keep from hitting her head. She was a couple inches taller than the door.
"Oh will you look at that!" said Clare, "my big tall French balcony doors can't even contain you, Beatrice!"
"Haha, well you and the girls aren't too far behind," laughed Beatrice. "Although I have always been a big girl."
"Too big for 8-foot doors, apparently," laughed Clare. Timothy couldn't believe his ears. 8 feet?! Beatrice was 8'1 or 8'2?!?
"8...f-feet?!" he couldn't help but squeak up to Clare.
"What's that?" she asked roughly, clearly affected by drink, bending down exaggeratedly as she brought her hand to her ear. "You're gonna have to speak up, little mouse. I can't hear you from way up here."
"Th-those d-doors are...8 feet tall?" he stuttered.
"Uh...yeah," said Clare, as if it was the dumbest question she had ever heard.
"So y-you're all...y-you're all that tall? L-like almost 8 f-feet t-tall?" He didn't know why, but it was important to him to make sure he wasn't imagining all of this. His mind was still reeling from seeing Maia again and he wanted some grounding.
"Fuck almost," said Clare. "Beatrice is clearly taller than that — what are you getting at, Timmy?"
"I just...y-you g-guys are growing," said Timothy, unable to contain himself. It was so obvious to him — he was just a little over knee-high to almost all of the female guests at the party. He glanced around and didn't even see any of the men. Had they left? Gone to bed? Whatever was going on, it was clear to him that during the party, these women had all grown considerably. And they were all so beautiful...so strikingly beautiful.
"Uh, I think he's confused," said Clare, standing up and addressing Beatrice. "I think he's confusing his shrinking with us growing."
"Haha oh my god," said Beatrice, laughing. She looked down at him, shaking her head. "Yep, it's definitely time to go. He's going batty. But see you all next week?"
"Yes!" said Clare, to the enthusiastic assent of the rest of the girls. "We're so looking forward to it, Beatrice!"
After farewell embraces, Beatrice led Timothy out of the mansion and caught an uber back home. She hadn't forgotten his little stunt in musical chairs, and Timothy wasn't able to lay down to sleep until after she had stuck her fingers up his ass and forced three ejaculations from his exhausted balls. For additional punishment, she made him sleep on the sofa, while she got to enjoy the luxury of his bed. As he lay there on the sofa, tired and dejected, he suddenly got the urge to go online. After surfing through random news articles for a minute or so, he came to his familiar online giantess forum. He realized as he stared at the fetish forum that it looked fresher than it had in a while — it must have been because, for the past couple weeks, he hadn't even gone online once, let alone onto his tried and true fetish site. He hadn't needed to. Maybe it was a sign that things weren't going so well that he was back. The heavy sound of Beatrice's breathing reached his ears. She was asleep — he was safe to browse around a little.
He clicked into the "Size Lounge" tab and looked down the various conversational threads. "Do You Have An Unusual Fetish?"..."Who Would You Cast as a 50-Foot Woman"..."How Did You Get This Way?"...all the familiar tags and topics that he had searched through over and over...suddenly one of the titles caught his eye: "What If You Could Shrink Yourself — Would You Do It?"...the thread was a popular one; it had five pages worth of responses. Timothy quickly clicked on it, not knowing why his heart had started to beat faster. He browsed through the responses. Many of them answered in the affirmative. "Hell yeah I would," said one user. "Without a doubt, yes," said another. "Even though I know there would be drawbacks I couldn't even imagine, I wouldn't care — I would absolutely do it," said yet another user.
Timothy could feel himself getting frustrated with all these haphazard responses. Clearly, these people had absolutely no clue what they were talking about. As he continued to browse he was heartened to notice that some of the users were responding more reasonably. "I know that my dick would answer yes to this question," said one of the users, "But my brain emphatically says no. I wouldn't want to give up the power I have as an adult in this world just for sexual pleasure."
"Exactly," muttered Timothy in agreement. He kept browsing. "No way," said another user. "This fetish exists in my mind, and that's where it should stay. Anything else and I risk losing everything that I'm proud of." Timothy felt his heart sink a little — he never really had much to be proud of to begin with. He suddenly wondered if that's why he had been so eager to ask Maia to make all his fantasies come true. He wondered if, because he had had nothing going for him, he was so quick to dismiss the negative consequences of his fantasies becoming real-life. He bent his head a little into the light of his laptop screen, which to him looked like a big-screen TV. That was it...that was absolutely what had happened. His life had been boring and uneventful, with no accomplishments...nothing to show for almost being 30 years old. And that was why he had been so foolish and run headlong into this nightmare.
He felt an abrupt desire to warn the other users about his experience. He had no idea how many people Maia visited. He thought of her deathly beautiful face...her impossible curves...her flashing dark eyes that changed color mercurially...her waving, jet-black hair...the sweet and overpowering rose scent of her heavenly breath...but wait. She wasn't heavenly! It was all a trap! She wasn't a heavenly being — she was demonic! She came to desperate men like him, promising them all the sexual glory of having their fantasies fulfilled, all the while hiding from them the fact that they were actually asking to sacrifice all their power. She was a trickster...a demon. And he had to warn everybody. Quickly, he wrote a long, rambling response to IronWaffle's question, doing his best to stay as faithful to what had happened to him as he could. He knew that he was being unfair to Maia...he knew in the back of his mind that she had given him the opportunity to think about what he was asking for. He remembered how she had made him pause to think, and about how quickly he had been to dismiss her cautionary words.
Reading through his response, he eventually edited down the part where he railed at Maia. He didn't just do it to be fair to her — he was actually afraid that if he posted something bad about her, she would make things even worse for him than they already were. After about 45 minutes of writing and editing, he read through his post one last time. He knew it sounded like the rambling diary of a crazy person, but he didn't really care. It wasn't like he had an online reputation to uphold. He had been a hardcore lurker for years who almost never posted anything at all. Without wasting any more time to think, he submitted his comment and then reached both hands up to close his laptop with difficulty. He curled up on the sofa like a little puppy and fell into an uneasy sleep.
