Giantess Stories: My Life as a Little Husband  By Pril   1 Introduction  The other day I sent a very short message to this board following my wife

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My Life as a Little Husband

By Pril

1

Introduction

The other day I sent a very short message to this board following my wife's

instruction. After doing so and duly reporting it to her I've received further

orders to write somewhat more extensively about myself which, of course, means

also writing about her.

My name is Pril and my wife's is Onda. We are both 30 years of age and we've

been married for 5 years. As you can imagine, there is a fundamental difference

between us, namely, our respective sizes. I'm 12 inches tall, or 30 cm. if you

prefer it that way, whereas Onda is 5'7", or 1.70 m. I used to be 6 feet tall,

but that was what's starting to be long ago. When standing erect next to each

other my height is approximately half way through between the floor and Onda's

knee. I'm a sixth of what I was and, for me now, the whole world is six times

bigger, many times heavier, and infinitely different from what it used to be.

It all started 3 years ago when one morning I woke up from a long and restless

night to find myself in my present plight. I suppose I should tell you more

about what had been going on before that moment, but my wife has told me to

speak only about my new life, and what my wife tells me to do is -believe you

me- exactly what I do.

Ever since that day I've been going through what we call my "Educational

Process". I don't really know when this process is supposed to come to an end,

and I've very well learnt not to ask any more about it, but from the minute the

process started I've changed an awful lot. I've changed so much that anyone who

knew me then would find it very difficult if not impossible to recognize me now.

And by "me" I mean my personality, not only my size.

The first thing I must tell you about my "new me" is my complete, full, utter

obedience to my wife. What she says is what I do; no matter what she says and no

matter how I do it. This is something that sometimes presents itself as an

impossibility, although she knows to an amazing degree what she can demand from

me and what she can't, sometimes surprising me with my own capabilities. I

remember once, long ago, I forgot to carry out one of her orders. When she came

back home and saw the thing undone, she just took a plastic pail from the

kitchen, filled it up with water and, without a word, grabbed me by my chest and

proceeded to sink me into it. God only knows how long she must have kept me in

there. She never took me up for a few seconds for me to catch breath, she never

questioned me or shouted at me or made a fuss about it. She just held me tightly

in there until I felt my whole little body was going to explode. I shook

frantically, I tried to free myself from her mighty hand by hitting it, by

trying and bite it, by kicking like mad into the dense water, but to absolutely

no avail. Somewhere along my fight, ridiculous as it seems, I found a split of a

second to understand that she was doing it because of my negligence and

disobedience. I must have been half-dead by the time she pulled me out of the

water. All I remember is that she was sitting on a small stool and that her legs

were crossed. Do you understand what I'm talking about? My life was about to

expire at the hands of a woman who could have decided whether to send me to the

other world or not while her legs were crossed.

2

Beginning

The episode about the pail with water came rather late in the development of our

new relationship as husband and wife. That's why she had been so calm and

handled things so professionally through it. In the beginning, though, she was

much rougher with me while "teaching" me a lesson.

The very first day I told you about, in which I found myself at my present size,

I woke up in a cage. Of course I thought I was still dreaming or something, but

little by little it started dawning upon me that I was awake all right and that

something was definitely wrong. The cage I'm talking about -which I know so well

now- was placed in the middle of our bedroom not far from the double bed on

which Onda was still sleeping. I remember I didn't quite know what to make of it

all and I decided to call Onda to wake her up just to make sure that at least

some part of reality continued to be what it used to. Wake up she did and, after

stretching a little, she sat on the bed and looked at me sleepily for a second

or two. Without more ado, she got up, walked past me and the cage, and went to

take a shower. As she walked past not even bothering to say a single word to me,

I felt a huge wave of anger creeping up my stomach (as I always did when not

having it my way) and started to shout at her all sort of insults, curses,

infamies and so on, which I now have been strictly forbidden to use in speech,

writing or even thinking. I could write an entire treatise on the psychological

impact I went through during those first few moments, but I'll try to stick to

the actual events here, so I make your reading more enjoyable.

When she came back from the bathroom, wrapped in her towel and dripping a bit, I

was still throwing at her all sorts of names and phrases, known or unknown,

shaking and banging the bars of my cage, hardly in control of anything any more.

In spite of seeing her a bit on her guard, she managed to take the right

attitude right from the beginning. She hardly said anything to me. She just

slowly and methodically got dressed as she did every day, finished to tidy up a

few things, and left the house for work. By then I was livid with rage, fear and

confusion and it must have taken me a few hours to calm down. Once I did, I

started to examine the cage I was trapped in. It was a sort of modified large

birdcage, big enough for me to stand up or lie down at full stretch. At the back

there was a long, flat opening that led outside. Of course it wasn't big enough

for me to get through. Next to this opening, outside the cage, there were three

containers proportional to my size. They had food, water, and sand,

respectively. As the day wore on I used all three of them for their proper

functions, the sand being for my bodily needs, of course.

Onda came back in the early evening. By then I had thought things over and

decided to tackle the issue in a different way.

"Onda", I called when she came into the room.

"Yes?” she answered.

"Onda, what's going on? What's happening here?”

She looked at me from her colossal height, waited a few seconds and said,

"Pril, I was fed up with things going the way they were. You've made a habit of

your excesses against me and other people and I've decided to take care of

things in a different way".

The conversation continued in a civilized way for a few more minutes. I tried

all my tricks of persuasion, first the good ones, then the bad ones. The more I

insisted the more she showed herself intransigent with my arguments. Inevitably,

I lost control again and went once more into one of my tantrums.

"Pril", she said a bit nervously, "the first thing I want you to know is that

from now on I won't tolerate unacceptable behavior from you, and that you'll

have to do what I tell you to".

This, at my size and all, made me explode with laughter.

"What?” I shouted in between my hysterical laugh, "me to do what you tell me?"

That did it. Without losing a minute Onda unlatched the birdcage and grabbed me

round my body with her huge hand. It was the first time I consciously felt the

power of her touch at my new size. She pulled me all the way up to a level with

her eyes and, breathing heavily, asked,

"Are you laughing at me?" My heart was beating frantically and I felt the

vertigo of the huge new world surrounding me. I heard her heavy breathing as she

waited for an answer. I tried to say something else and minimize the importance

she was giving the whole thing, but she only repeated her question pressing a

bit more forcibly my chest with her grip.

"Are you laughing at me, yes or no?”

"No", I said quietly.

"Good boy", she said.

That was my first defeat at my wife's hands. The first of so many that were to

come, and continue coming as I write this. She put me back in my cage, latched

the door, and left the room.

Two things I remember of that moment; first my wonder at her new power,

second... my huge erection.

3

The door is opened

After that first day I continued to live in my prison, and although I tried to

convince Onda to let me out using my most diplomatic skills, she wouldn't hear

of it. For her, life continued more or less under the same routine, at least on

what referred to her out-of-the-house schedule. She'd get up early in the

morning, take her shower, have her breakfast, take care of the food and water

right next to my cage, and leave for work. For me, well for me everything was

different. I had to spend the whole day doing absolutely nothing but staying

behind bars, surrounded by this huge bedroom, pondering on what had happened to

me (or what Onda had done to me). I was very bored and started to sleep more

than necessary. I knew my disappearance from the outer world would go rather

unnoticed since I had practically no friends, I hadn't been on speaking terms

with most of my family for a long time, and I had been unemployed for over two

months. Who would miss me? Who would pay attention to me not being out there any

more? The greengrocer?

Once back home, Onda would walk into the bedroom, proceed to get undressed in

her usual manner, have a look at me and the cage and go to the kitchen and the

rest of the house to take care of things. Gradually, I started to get used to my

new size, Onda's size, and the size of everything. I also started to lose hope

and, little by little there was less and less mentioning of the issue in our

conversations.

We did talk. After finishing her duties around the house and may be watching

some TV in the living room, Onda would come into the room and casually chat

about her day, people I knew and so on, very much like in the old days, although

without fearing any of my aggressive remarks, that were so abundant until the

new situation came along. Quite a few weeks went by that way.

One evening, well after my shrinking had been last mentioned, Onda came up to my

cage, easily opened the door that had consumed so many of my futile attempts at

forcing it open myself, sat on our bed right in front of me and told me in a

teacher's tone, firm and assertive,

"Pril, come out".

A bit taken aback, I looked at her for a few seconds before risking a first step

out of my new house and a few more closer to where she was. I stopped in front

of her naked legs, which came down gracefully from under her nightgown. Her

knees stood well over my head, at about twice my size.

"Pril", she said, "you've been a good boy lately by not talking aggressively, by

behaving yourself and by not asking me any more questions about your size, how

long, why, and so on. From the day I shrank you on, we've started an

"Educational Process" aiming at making of you the nice boy we know you can be.

If you continue in the right path, doing what you are told to, and not asking

forbidden questions, you'll be able to earn your way back to normality. The

decision is up to me and, since I know you and I know what I want, I can assure

you it won't be an easy process".

She waited a few moments to make sure that I was taking in her words.

"Good", she said. "From tomorrow on the door of your cage will be left open, but

you are not allowed to walk out" (‘Great', I thought). Any attempt at getting

out of there, let alone escape, will be severely punished. Is that clear?”

"Yes", I said hardly containing my joy.

"When I'm instructing you on what to do your answers should always finish with

the words 'my queen'", she added.

"Excuse me?” I said with a funny smile. But when I saw her leaning forward

toward me I quickly corrected myself in a serious way,

"Yes, my queen. Yes, my queen".

"Good boy", she said. "Now, back to your cage".

I spent the whole night planning my escape, dreaming of my escape, enjoying my

escape, relishing my escape.

Oh, Pril, Pril, how foolish were you in those days.

4

First escape attempt

Next morning, after spending the whole night fantasizing about my escape, I

waited impatiently for Onda to finish her home routine. Right after her last

touches, she came down to my cage and said,

"Very well, Pril, today we'll see how good your progress is so far. You are to

stay all day in your cage with the door open. Do not attempt to come out, let

alone escape, for you won't like the consequences. Is that understood?”

"Yes", I said.

"Yes, what?” she demanded.

"Yes, my queen", I said meekly.

With this she proceeded to open the cage door, and left the room. I couldn't see

the rest of the house from my position, but I had gotten used to guessing quite

a few actions using my ears, so I paid close attention to the sound of her

fading steps, the unlocking of the front door, and the relocking of it.

Silence.

‘Yes', I thought.

I still decided to wait further 15 minutes to make absolutely sure that she

wouldn't come back after forgetting something behind, or anything like that.

After what seemed an eternal quarter of an hour, I took my very first step out

and I stood there surprisingly insecure as to what to do next. But I mustered

courage and started walking toward the bedroom door. The minute I crossed the

line into the hall and turned right, I found my way blocked by what seemed to be

a pair of marble columns. My blood pressure dropped to zero and a feeling of

intense fear invaded my whole self. Do I need to explain that what I found in

front of me were my wife's legs?

I slowly started to look up. I saw her shapely legs disappearing into a short

skirt, I saw her hands -one of them holding her shoes- placed at either side of

her hip, I saw her generous bust slightly uncomfortably fitting into her blouse,

and I saw her beautiful face staring down at me with a pair of intent blue eyes.

"Onda I-"

My stupid attempt at a word was instantly interrupted by her snatching me off

the floor up in the air and carrying me into the bedroom again, whose freedom I

hadn't experienced even for a split of a second. Onda sat on the bed with both

legs joined together and stretched the length of my naked body facing down right

over her knees. I tried to open my mouth again but before I knew it her first

blow came right down on my bottom with a whipping sound and extremely sharp

pain. I felt tears jumping out of my eyes and heard myself uttering out a cry of

despair. Without waiting for any reaction and without saying anything, a second

blow came right away exactly on the same spot as the first one. My entire body

arched in pain, a coat of sweat covered me completely, and I started to sob and

shout for mercy. To no avail. Her slaps continued one after another until I felt

my limbs going numb. I was still weakly trying to set myself free, but her

second hand was holding me firmly on her knees and my wriggling and kicking must

have seemed ridiculous.

I don't know how long she spanked me for. But I do remember how helpless and

desperate I felt at my complete impotence against the tremendous power of my

wife. Suddenly the beating stopped. Onda pushed me indifferently off her knees

and I fell down to the floor with a heavy thump, spraining one of my ankles. For

the first time she spoke.

"On your feet", she ordered.

With terrible pain, my body, sweaty, dirty and hardly holding balance, I managed

to rise to my feet while shaking from bottom to top.

"Look at me", she said again.

Trying to contain the convulsive shaking of my knees, I slowly raised my eyes

until they met hers, which were completely controlled.

"When I give you an order, what do you have to do?” she demanded.

"I have to obey, my queen", said I, my lips trembling too much to make my speech

clear.

"I can't hear you very well, Pril", she said calmly.

"I have to obey you, my queen", I repeated a bit more clearly.

"Good boy", she added. "Now, kneel down and kiss both my feet, one after the

other." With still uncertain movements I did as she said and got back to my

feet.

"Pril, I told you yesterday that your cage door is to remain open and that you

are not going to come out. Do you have any problems with that?"

"No, my queen".

"Good", she said. "Now go back in there and stay in like a good boy until you

are further instructed."

"Yes, my queen".

And with this I turned back and started a slow and limping return to what had

been my house for all these weeks, my hopes shuttered, my dreams gone. Onda

casually put her shoes back on and left the room without further ado, as she had

done a while earlier, in what seemed another era. Whether she actually left the

house or stayed in preparing another trap I never knew. But, for the life of me,

I wouldn't have left that cage even if I had seen the bedroom going up in

flames. And I innocently thought then that she had given me a hard spanking.

5

Molly

Hello again my dear friends, Onda has just had a look at what I've been sending

and told me to forget the beginning a little bit and go tell you about Molly.

Well, well, well. Yes, believe it or not, there are a few people who know about

me and see me more or less regularly as they come home to pay Onda a visit and

so on. Onda told me to start with Molly, so with Molly will I start.

Molly is one of two of Onda's best friends. They met each other and became

friends after I was my new size, so I've never known her any differently than

she is now. She is 40 years old, a good deal shorter than Onda and of a petite

appearance. She is very skinny and not too endowed with flesh, so to speak. She

is also pretty plain, so there isn't really much to look at in her. For those

who like hands and feet, though, it could be quite a different story. She is

very proud of both pairs and so she should, for fate has given her lean, bony

and beautiful extremities. More often than not she wears sandals of all sorts,

sometimes even in winter, and I must say that her taste is impeccable. Her hands

are crowned with 10 long, strong and extremely well kept nails, which she

prefers to keep unpolished and doesn't miss an opportunity to show off or use in

a most delicate way. She is also extremely skilled with her hands. In actual

fact she is a seamstress, and the reason why Onda befriended her is because she

was looking for someone to make clothes my size.

It must have been only after a year that I got my first decent clothing as

opposed to rough pieces of material taken from anywhere. Molly, then, is in

charge of my "wardrobe", but she has also helped with other devices around the

apartment aiming at making the real world more accessible to me. So she is at

home quite a lot. And I hate her. First of all, she is the stupidest woman on

earth. Other than her specialized skills, she knows nothing about anything. Once

all three of us watched together a movie on TV. Her comments after it would have

certainly awarded her the "Oscar to the silliest comments ever made on a movie",

if such a thing existed. And the same is applicable to any other field in which

logic has to but remotely be used.

Second, and this is where the gist of the story lies, there is the mysterious

question of her husband, Little B. This has been going on since the day I met

her, and, to this very minute, I still don't know whether the guy exists or not.

If he does, he has to be the only other real shrunken person I ever heard of. I

wouldn't expect much truth from Molly, but my wife has always been unfathomable

about it and never gave me an answer that would give away the veracity of what

Molly tells us about him. If Little B. exists, he must be the unluckiest fellow

on earth... and Molly the cruelest.

Apparently she reduced him to a size similar to mine more than 15 years ago,

according to her, due to him cheating on her… once. Whereas Onda has a "Program

of Reeducation" for me, and, as long as I obey everything is OK, Molly has never

thought of such a thing for her little hubby, and her life is devoted to

torturing the little devil in every possible way. If the man exists this is what

life is like for him:

He is kept purposely underfed, in such a way that he has been on the brink of

starvation ever since she took care of him. When he eats he has to go down on

his knees, cross his hands behind his back, and lick off the floor whatever his

dear wife throws down to him; it could be anything from an old piece of tomato

to a chunk of food she's just spat on her plate. She drops a crumb of bread very

seldom while she eats, enough to keep him begging at her feet at every meal,

even though most of the time she won't give him a thing. He is not allowed to

look at her face or any other part of her body unless she tells him to. The

exception being her feet, which he is forced to look at whenever she is around.

In actual fact, whenever they cross their way at home he has to stop doing

whatever he is doing and follow her feet with his eyes wherever she goes until

she disappears from his sight. For over 15 years the poor guy has been talking

to, trying to reason with, and eventually begging for mercy to a pair of feet,

or a set of 10 toes. She hardly ever touches him, and if she does it's only to

punish him. He's also been tied to a long old piece of string round his waist

about the total length of the house, to allow him to walk all around it but not

an inch into the garden with the sun above.

Molly has only one way of physical punishment: her hands. Many times she has

told us the way she enjoys grabbing him for no reason and starts digging her

long nails all about his body. She's never hidden the fact that she has bruised

him, made him bleed badly, and broken many a bone of his tiny self. She enjoys

telling us about how she keeps him in a state of constant terror by asking

impossible request, lying, and confusing him. She'd ask him how many chairs

there are in the room, he'd count three and she'd go on to tell him he is lying.

The poor fellow would risk any other number knowing from the beginning that he's

started a lost battle. More nailing and rough, bloody scratching would follow

until she'd get tired or bored of her game. She loves citing the punch line that

if he weren't lying he'd look at her eyes.

The other day I had to endure another session with dear Molly visiting us at

home, bringing the newest entertainment from her house. I had just served them

coffee and requested permission from Onda to go back to the kitchen until needed

again, when Molly asked me to stay to hear something really funny. I pleaded

with my eyes to Onda, but we had had a bad day and she just said,

"Stay".

Molly had put her husband into a big glass flowerpot, covering it with some kind

of thick grill to prevent him from coming out. She also ordered him not to pee

or pooh for the next 3 days (yes, sir, 3 days!). The wretched man did his best

for a day or day and a half on the brink of explosion. Of course at some point

he couldn't hold it any longer and the flowerpot turned into a mess of yellows

and stinking browns.

"I made him eat and drink all his disobedience, and you know what?” she said,

"He came out from a flower pot that was cleaner than when he got in. Ha, ha,

ha".

The dreadful picture of that evil story haunted me for days. I hope to God

Little B. is a bad taste invention of Molly's with the compliance of my wife. If

not, I don't really understand how he is still alive.

6

The Ten Commandments

I'm terribly sorry to keep bothering you with my postings, but although Onda

hasn't yet read my last delivery she did give me permission to tell you a bit

about a fundamental portion of our day. I'm talking about "The Ten

Commandments".

As I got more and more used to my new life, it became less necessary for Onda to

recur to extreme forms of teaching in order to convey what everything was about.

Not that from time to time she doesn't have to give me a lesson, but nowadays

nothing is to be compared to what it used to be. However, the Ten Commandments

are not to be forgotten or skipped one single day of the year, for they

represent the essence of my fate and there is no possible repeating them enough.

The commandments aren't just repeated as in a church, but thoughtfully

considered individually and as a whole. The necessary physical submission that

comes with them aims only at enhancing them and making them internal. Although

at the beginning I used to fear them due to the pain implied, now I acknowledge

their absolute effect by being dispensed the way they are. I also look forward

to them throughout the day, since it represents a sweet intimate moment with the

woman I live and would die for.

Much as they hurt me, Onda is usually in the most relaxed of moods, often only

casually dressed and many times stroking herself softly. It could be on the

sofa, the bed or even in the bathtub, the two of us naked, which I always am for

this ceremony, anyway.

The recitations of the Commandments takes place one by one, pausing on each to

discuss them in detail. The whole process takes between 10 and 15 minutes

according to the case, and each commandment forces me into another difficult,

rather hurting physical position. As an example I'll reproduce yesterday's

ceremony, which took place in the living room, on the sofa.

I heard Onda's voice calling me from the living room and I immediately stopped

doing what I was in the middle of, and ran all the way to where she was. She was

wearing a simple cotton nightgown, which sexily revealed most of her legs,

crossed in a beautifully casual position.

"Are you ready to recite your commandments, sweetheart?” she asked.

"I wouldn't like anything better than that in the world", I replied.

"Good baby", she smiled. "Come up here with mummy, sweetie".

"Yes, my queen", I said with tears of emotions in my eyes.

Within a second, I had taken off all my clothes, kissed long and sweetly both

her feet, and climbed up the sofa sitting comfortably on her lap looking at my

beautiful Goddess. Onda proceeded to surround my body with her left hand,

sticking thus both my arms to my sides making me immobile. Her right hand passed

four fingers behind my back but her thumb stretched up in front pulling my chin

back till my neck disappeared under my bent head. My mouth flew open and I felt

a firm, steady and solid pain all the way down my spine. Onda, though, kept

smiling at me with her sweet face and started to casually wave a hanging leg a

little. After a few seconds in which I sort of got used to the pain, Onda asked

a bit more seriously,

"OK, sweetie. What's the first commandment?”

My voice would come out a bit funny under the strain, but I knew how to make

myself clear, anyway. "The first commandment, my queen, is Obedience".

"Good boy, precious boy", said Onda encouragingly. And, tightening her thumb

under my chin a little bit more, she asked,

"And what does that mean?”

"It means, my queen, that I have to obey you blindly, whether I know or

understand or not what you are telling me to do, whether I like it or not,

whether it is possible or impossible. There is no questioning to your orders, my

queen. What you tell me to do is what I'll do, and I'd consider it an honor to

die for you if you demanded it from me".

"Oh, darling, that's so sweet of you", Onda said, "I see you know your first

Commandment very well. By the way, are my hands hurting you?”

"Not at all, my queen, a caress from the gods wouldn't be so pleasurable".

"Oh, you are something Prilly", she finished cheerfully. Very gradually she

eased the pressure under my chin until my head came back to normal position.

Commandment number one had been successfully discussed and understood.

For the second Commandment Onda stretched my legs on her lap and bent my torso

forward with one of her hands until my head nearly touched my knees. This,

together with the third Commandment, is the only position in which our eyes

don't meet. The pain here concentrates at the bottom of my back and at the back

of my legs.

"What's the second Commandment, puppy?" she asked.

"The second Command, my queen, is Respect", I replied.

"Well done, sweetie. What does that mean?"

A short discussion followed, very much in the way of the one after the first

Commandment. The third Commandment is tough. Onda wrapped my legs with her left

hand and my upper body and arms with her right, and proceeded to bend my body

outwardly arching it as when you are trying to break a twig using both your

hands. This Commandment is Loyalty, and it went very much the same as the

previous two. For Commandments four and five she twisted first one of my arms

and then the other behind my back. They are, respectively: Truth and Honesty. My

left arm was particularly sensitive, since the previous day I had made a

transgression regarding Honesty and Onda, obviously, had made a specially longer

and more intense discussion about it. This time around, when she twisted my left

arm my face contracted into a restrained grimace.

"What's the matter, Prilly?" Onda asked. "Are you still sensitive about

yesterday, darling?"

"Yes, my queen" said I biting my lips.

"Do you think you've given it enough thought during the day and learnt your

lesson well?"

"Yes, my queen, I do"

"Good boy". And she released it rather sharply.

The next three Commandments, numbers six, seven and eight are more on the

practical side. They refer to Efficiency, Language and Appearance. Of course I

have to be efficient in everything I do, most particularly in whatever I'm told

to do. I am only to speak good language, clear and polite; dirty words, as I've

already told you, are out of the question, even in thought. My appearance has to Pilates Femenino

be perfectly suited to every moment, properly dressed throughout the day with

clean and presentable clothes, and completely naked at the time of instruction,

as was the case right now. The positions to the above mentioned Commandments

consist of Onda bending first one leg and then the other backwards, with ankle,

knee and hip joint stretched to the fullest. For number eight she holds my body

with one hand while stretching both my arms backwards, which makes my chest

protrude forward.

This was being a good session so far. Onda was in a very good mood. She pinched

my cheeks a little, brushed my sweaty hair back with her fingers and allowed me

to kiss them, too.

For Commandment number nine she herself changed position, uncrossing her legs

and gently stretching them along the sofa. In the process her nightgown opened a

bit round the neckline, revealing more of her generous, smooth, velvety bust,

which made my instruction ever so pleasurable.

"Enjoying it, puppy?" she asked.

Commandment number nine is Sex. Sex is of the utmost importance in our

relationship. (Is it not, my dear friends?). Onda and I have an awful lot of

sex. The best sex there is, the best sex you could dream of. One day I'll tell

you how she wisely guided me to it a long time after she had shrunken me, and

how we do it, if she allows me to. You should know I live in constant erection

and the outlet of my needs is of vital importance. Since masturbation is

strictly prohibited, I am forced to pay extra attention to anything I do and the

way I follow orders, not only to avoid punishment but also to earn my way to my

queen, with the unknown pleasures of her imagination. The position for the sex

Commandment consist of Onda stretching my legs aside with both her hands, a bit

like ballerinas when landing on the floor with their legs forming a straight

line from toe to toe. This is also a good preparation for the last position of

the last Commandment, which isn't really a Commandment but a confession.

Commandment ten, which is a confession of my most recent sin, is usually the

longest we dwell on because we have to discuss the situation according to what

happened and the seriousness of it. The position is very suited to a confession.

Onda stretches both my arms open, like in the cross, but the nailing of the

sinner is quite original: she slowly penetrates my anus with her little finger,

longish nail and all. This takes a few seconds to be performed and is done

without the help of any creams. The process isn't going to be painful unless the

gravity of my sin so demands it.

The previous night I had forgotten a dirty saucer on the coffee table in the

living room, which had been left unclean and uncollected through the night.

"Why did that happen, poppet?” Onda asked, turning her finger a little around

and making me feel a bit of pain.

"It happened, my queen, because I didn't pay enough attention, because I was a

bad boy and forgot to perform my duties to perfection, which is the only way to

make justice to you.” I said in a serious way.

Onda bent her pinky forward and I could feel her nail at the back of my stomach,

hurting me and creating a very uncomfortable sensation.

"And what do you think your punishment should be for such forgetfulness?” she

asked twisting her finger even more.

"Maybe, my queen, washing up every saucer there is in the kitchen ten times over

until they shine like a mirror?” I suggested trying to move my body aside a

little to ease the pain.

"That's a brilliant idea, puppy. And because of that you'll wash up every

saucer, plate, soup plate, teapot, and cup ten times over. Do you think that's

fair, darling?” she asked.

"It's most fair, my queen", I quietly replied.

"Good baby", she finished.

By now, the state of my erection was at its highest. With this, satisfied, she

removed her finger from my behind, allowed me to kiss a few of them and ordered

me to finish the ceremony properly. All these instructing sessions start and

finish with me kneeling down on the floor and kissing either her feet or shoes

if they are next to me. If not, I have to stay on my knees until her feet come

down.

I went down to the floor, but her legs were still on the sofa, so I patiently

waited for her to bring them down, which happened after a few long minutes.

"Thank you, my queen for a most enjoyable lesson", I said humbly.

"Now go to your duties", was her reply. And off I went to wash up dishes.

This, my friends, gives you an idea of what the Ten Commandments are and feel

like. Of course I don't know when this form of education will stop, but I'm

absolutely certain it must be necessary right now.

7

Second escape attempt

Now I should continue with the story of the beginning of things, where I left

off in chapter four.

Onda's first spanking and the physical pain and taste of defeat left in me, kept

me in my cage for long weeks to come. During the first days I had serious

trouble standing and even lying down, which I couldn't perform without waves of

pain all over my little body, especially my behind. Onda, on the contrary, got

out of our confrontation with much more confidence and control than before. She

showed herself more and more assertive handling our relationship, and started to

adopt a tone of command when speaking to me. Although for the first few days

there wasn't much conversation, things started to come back to normal very much

the same they had been before the cage door had been opened. Every now and then

I would think of that open door, me inside not risking stepping out lest she'd

prepared another trap or God knows what. After some time I started to pay

special attention to various noises around the house when Onda wasn't in, and

also several phone conversations she had with friends and family. I came to the

conclusion that she was leaving for work all right and wouldn't possibly wait

for me in the hall every day of her life. That's how my instinctive thirst for

freedom started to make my brain work again in that direction, thus planting the

seed of the disastrous end to come.

One day, after much pondering and planning and praying for courage, I decided

time had come for me to try again. I'd have to set out right after she'd leave.

My aim would be the two balconies in the apartment, either the small one in the

kitchen or the big one outside the living room. I knew there would be 3 floors

to climb down before touching ground level, but I'd use strings, ropes and

ribbons we used to keep in the storage room. I'd only have to be quick and

lucky.

‘M' morning finally arrived. Onda left for work as usual and I waited a few

minutes before coming out. Some last minute fear, though, prevented me from

starting right away -what if I failed?- and I lost some valuable hour trying to

find my courage again. Finally, after so many weeks, I ventured my first step

out. Like the first time, I walked toward the bedroom door and stood there for a

few seconds before popping my head out into the hall. This time no marble

columns waited for me. The way was clear.

You'll probably remember that since the day of my shrinking all I had seen of

the world in its new dimension was the bedroom around my cage. I had gotten used

to that sight all right. But the rest of the house, man, was it different! The

main hall, leading from the entrance door and the living room to the 3 other

rooms, kitchen and toilets, seemed a mile long. The dimension of things was very

confusing and quite intimidating. Everything was in its usual place, though.

Before continuing I had a good look around the hall and my eyes eventually

rested on the upper wall, near the ceiling. There it was. A little video camera,

perched on a metal arm was pointing down at the bedroom door I had just come out

from. A small red light indicated the camera was working. This really didn't

take me aback since I was expecting some kind of surveillance system. I had

decided that if it were a camera Onda would only be able to watch my escape

after she returned home, once I had been long gone. As a good-bye gift I gave

the camera a finger.

I went into the kitchen. As expected, the door leading to the small balcony was

closed. I managed to drag a little (well, huge) stool against it, climbed on the

thing and jumped up, catching the door handle with both my hands. The door was

locked, and the key wasn't there. The two windows aside, a bit to my surprise,

were covered with a wire mesh that wasn't there before. I had to discard that

possibility.

My next goal was the living room, the largest room in the house, with a long

balcony running all along the front. When walking past the camera again though,

a paralyzing thought crossed my mind, making me stop dead, a surge of cold sweat

covering my entire body. Looking up at the camera again, I confirmed my worst

fears: it wasn't a video camera; it was one of those close-circuit security

things you see in shops and busses. There was a monitor somewhere. Was I being

watched? If I knew Onda, I was. The whole idea of how much time I had left

changed in a second. I had to be very quick. I ran to the living room and had a

good look at the glass doors leading to the balcony. The huge sliding panes,

framed in aluminum and running the length of the balcony were closed and locked

with an impossibly tall lever. Right above the panes, though, there were two

other sliding, narrow, glass doors, mainly for ventilation purposes, but big

enough to allow my body through. One of them was open. My way up there would be

through the curtain, rather drawn aside but leading right to the window near the

frame. Of course that was only the way up. For the way down I was going to need

the strings I have mentioned before.

I ran to the smallest room in the apartment, used for storage, and managed my

way up the old desk on top of which there was the little cardboard box

containing such ribbons, strings, and so on. I knocked it down easily, too

easily. It was empty. There was something in there, though, and it made my heart

stop. A little piece of paper said: ‘Trying to run away, darling?'

Oh, my God!

I stumbled down the desk and ran back to the living room. I was starting to feel

confused and very scared. The one thing to do was climb up that curtain and run

for my life. After a few minutes of clumsy curtain cliff hanging, I reached the

top and stood on the upper frame catching breath. From my vantage point I could

see the low houses across the road. As I was trying to work out my next step

when I saw the beginning of the end: Onda's car slowly arrived down the road.

She parked it and quietly came out. I'll never forget how beautiful she looked,

tall and erect in her smart blue executive suit, black stockings and medium high

heels, her light brown hair falling gracefully down her shoulders. I'll never

forget my fear, either. Why should she be back in the middle of the morning if

not for me? The terror of what that meant quickly replaced the pleasure of her

sight. There was only one dignified thing for me to do now: fight.

I climbed down the curtain and stood at the other end of the hall, my heart

thumping with fear. My plan was to wait for her to come in and run as heavily as

I could against her legs, trying to hit her or something, at least gaining the

upper hand in such an unfair contest.

I stood there, my whole body heaving with audible breath, waiting for her to

come in. I heard the lock; there she was. As she turned back to close the door

behind her I started my mad race against Goliath, shouting at the top of my

voice, like an old warrior. The image must have been quite amusing for her. Onda

had plenty of time to turn round again and wait a little for me to get closer.

She simply dropped her handbag in front of me, making me stumble badly and roll

all the way to the tip of her shoes.

You should know, my dear friends, that in all these 3 long years Onda owns me,

and the numberless times she's spanked and punished me in every possible way,

I've never once, not even once, managed to hit back in any effective way. She

can do whatever she wants with me and there is nothing I can do against her

incredible power.

I quickly got up to my feet and started running in the opposite direction. Onda

advanced a few steps and I felt once more the mighty grip of her hand around my

body. Still without uttering a word, she took me back to the bedroom, sat on the

bed, proceeded to stretch me on her legs like the first time, and grabbed a

house slipper lying down on the floor next to the bed.

The following spanking could have won a competition. She mercilessly slapped

every bit of flesh on my little body. I cried, I shouted, screamed, wept,

kicked, shook, twisted, shrieked, trying in vain to set myself free, to avoid

the next blow. Nothing helped. She continued hitting, starting to lose a bit of

control herself. The pain was excruciating. I wished I'd be dead. My body went

flex. I peed and pooed on myself, I vomited; blood was coming out of everywhere.

I begged, I pleaded, I supplicated, I screamed for mercy.

"Are you going to disobey me again?” she shouted at me.

"Noooooo", I cried.

She repeated the question a million times and a million times I answered it at

the top of my lungs.

"Are you going to disobey me again?!"

"Noooooooooooooo!!!!! Please, my queen. Noooooooooo!!!!!!!

She stopped for a few seconds, quite agitated herself, her pretty face

transfigured into a lioness's. She roughly pulled my hair back with her

long-nailed fingers and, bringing her face closer to mine said in a clear-cut

tone,

"And thank you very much for giving me your finger, darling, but I'm afraid

you'll have to take it back."

And with this she stretched out her middle finger, long nail and all, and shoved

it down my open mouth.

I swear to God, I've never felt anything like that since the day I was born. I

don't know where the end of her finger got down to, but I felt it against the

end of my butt. My arms spread out violently, my eyes shot wide open in shock,

and I realized I couldn't breathe. Still holding me like that Onda placed me

back on her legs and resumed the barrage where she had just stopped. My brain

was about to blow up. Just when I thought I was saying good-bye to this world,

Onda sharply removed her finger. My lip joints were torn open and bleeding

badly. Half of that blood went down into my lungs as I desperately tried to

catch up breath. I was a mess. I was a mess. Before I even had time to think I

heard Onda say,

"And now, darling, we'll make sure you never try to run away again". And

snatching a pair of scissors out of the drawer in the bedside table, she opened

them over and under my legs and,

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!” I screamed, terrified". "No, please, Onda,

no, no, no, my queen. I'll be good, I'll obey, I'll do whatever you tell me to,

I'll never try to escape again, I'll be your slave if you want, I'll never

disobey again, I swear, I swear to God, Onda, please, please Onda, don't, don't.

I'm begging you, my queen. Don't cut my legs, please don't, please, please."

"Shut up, you piece of s..!” she shouted. And, lifting the arm in which she held

me, threw me forcibly against my cage.

I found myself on the floor, still begging, still crying.

"Come here you son of a b..!" she shouted again.

I dragged myself on the floor up to her shoes.

"On your feet, piece of c.."

I did as well as I could.

"I want you to kiss my feet, shout loudly that you'll never disobey me again and

go run around your cage. Do you understand?" she still shouted.

"Yes, my queen!” I cried.

And with this I proceeded to do what she had told me. I kissed her feet, shouted

I'd never disobey again, and made a loop round my cage and back to her feet.

"Do it again, son of a..", she screamed.

And I did, stumbling against my cage, against some furniture, against Onda's own

legs, hardly knowing what I was doing any more.

"Do it a thousand times, you bastard, a thousand times!" she finished.

I started to run around God only knows what. I guess I must have passed out

after a few rounds, for I don't have any further recollections of that judgment

day.

 

8

Resignation

For many, many days to come I lived in a blur of pain and anguish. My whole body

was sore, I could hardly move. I don't think there were any broken bones, but

most of my skin was badly swollen and covered with bruises. The worst part was

my mouth, where my lip-joints had been torn open by Onda's finger. I found it

almost impossible to eat, even drink. My only comfort was sleeping. I slept an

awful lot, although most of it was constantly interrupted by strange nightmares

in which Onda was breaking me physically and psychologically. I would also jump

from my sleep in fear every time I'd hear the door lock in the morning, evening

or any other time of the day.

It was also around this time that I started to dream of the angel. The angel was

a perfect giantess, kind and beautiful, that came down from heaven to heal my

wounds. She'd sit next to me, take me gently in her mighty hands, and apply

balms and ointments to my damaged body, while whispering words of comfort and

encouragement. These dreams would become of capital importance (and form the

beginning of my suspicion) the day I met Dr. Elde.

Very, very slowly, I started to recover. My skin and mouth got better and I

found it easier to eat and drink. I also got up to my feet and started to do a

little gym in the small space of my cage. The supply of food and water never

dwindled. Now there was also a little container with some kind of salve Onda had

ordered me to rub into my wounds. Aside from her uncontrolled anger of the

beginning, Onda had come back to normal, although ever more assertive and in

charge than before. Her power had grown proportionally to my weakness.

The cage door, of course, remained open, although I started to completely forget

about it. There was no possible escape and that was it. I understood more and

more that the only sensible thing for me to do was to stay there and obey every

one of Onda's commands, hoping to gain her trust back and, maybe, be let out at

some point.

One day, after quite a few weeks and almost completely recovered, I felt an

urgent need to make up with Onda. I don't know how, but something was telling me

that I had to talk to her and apologize for my past behavior. This was quite a

new feeling in me, but I had to do it.

"Onda", I said quietly when she got back home.

"Yes?” she answered cautiously.

"I'd like to talk to you about something".

"You'd better think it over if it's to do with your cage, Pril", she replied

with a warning tone.

"It's not about the cage, Onda", I added. She waited.

"Onda, I'd like to apologize for my behavior during the past many months, and

also for everything I did to you when I was my normal size. I understand and

accept everything you did to me, including the punishments when I tried to

escape. I don't intend my words to fool you. I just need to get them out of my

chest. I really mean what I say."

Onda, standing next to the cage and looming over me, took a few seconds to think

about what I'd just said. Then she asked,

"Do you know how long you've been in that cage now?"

I said I didn't.

"Next month, a year".

‘A year!' I thought.

"In three weeks", she added, "when the year is over, we'll have a little chat

about our next step for your reeducation. In the meantime just stay there and be

a good boy. And, till then that's all I want to hear from you about your

situation, good or bad. Is that clear?" “

“Yes, my queen”, I finished quietly.

It had been the first time in my life I had apologized to Onda about anything.

It seemed to have left her pretty unmoved.

9

I'm allowed out

Three weeks later, exactly a year after my shrinking, Onda came into the

bedroom, sat on a chair and ordered,

"Pril, come out of your cage and up to me".

I did as she said, my feet a bit uncertain on the ground. She was still wearing

her smart office outfit, but had removed her shoes and replaced them with her

slippers (the same ones she had nearly destroyed my body with). As I was coming

up to her she crossed her legs into a professional position. My wife's legs have

always been very attractive, shapely more than thin. Her body language betrayed

control more than comfort. She had never exposed them to me in such an obvious

way since my shrinking. I couldn't help thinking how terrifyingly beautiful they

were. I also felt quite intimidated by their size and proximity to me. She

looked so incredibly in control.

"Pril", she said, "as I told you the other day, from now on we are starting a

new stage in your education." (‘We?' I thought). "For the next few minutes I

want you to listen carefully to what I say and not to interrupt. If you have any

questions you'll be allowed to ask them in the end. Is that clear?"

"Yes", I replied.

"I'm sorry?” she demanded.

"Yes, my queen". I corrected myself.

"Whenever I instruct you, as I'm doing now, you are to kiss both my feet, kneel

down with your hands behind your back, and look right into my eyes. Do it!"

I did as she had ordered. From my kneeling position she looked absolutely

imposing. Her blue eyes had the glimmer of victory in them.

"Good", she said. "From now on, you'll be allowed out of your cage while I'm at

home. In actual fact, when I'm here you are not to be in your cage at all unless

I send you back to it. On the other hand, the minute I leave the house, you'll

get back to your cage and spend there whatever amount of time I'm not here." She

paused for a few seconds. "At least in the beginning, whenever you're out of

your cage you'll have to be right next to me, always on the floor, either

standing, sitting, kneeling or lying down, according to my orders. You're not to

leave my side unless I tell you to, and you're to accompany me wherever I move

within the apartment. To make things easier for you and me, I'll keep you

leashed to me with this".

And, with that, she unrolled a piece of long, thin, satin ribbon, at the end of

which there was a golden ring attached. The thing rolled down her crossed leg

and I found it lying next to me.

"Put it down your head, around your neck", she commanded.

I tried to do it but the ring kept getting stuck in my ears and nose, making the

way to my neck impossible.

"Stop", Onda said dryly. She leaned down, stretched forward two strong fingers

forming a V around my head and, before I knew it, she gave the ring a quick push

down to my neck. I felt my nose and ears go red and hot, but no damage had been

done. God, her strength was absolutely fabulous. Taking the ribbon with her

fingers, Onda leaned back again and pulled it a little, making my body tilt

forward.

"That's good", she said. "Any questions?"

"Yes, my queen", said I. "How long am I supposed to go through this stage?"

Together with my last word, Onda got suddenly up to her feet, her huge body

towering over me like a mountain. The ring caught my chin and raised my little

body off the floor up into the air. I desperately grabbed the ring trying in

vain to do something about it, while hanging like a pendulum and kicking in the

air.

"Look at me!” she ordered. Still hanging and choking, I did.

"That is a question I don't want to hear any more, at any stage, under any

circumstances. Is that understood or do I need to bring my slipper into the

picture to explain things to your butt?"

"No, no, my queen", I answered with gruff voice in despair. "It's understood, my

queen, perfectly understood".

"Good boy", she said, and abruptly eased the ribbon, making me fall clumsily to

the floor.

"Now to your position. The lesson is over. Kiss my feet, thank me and stand next

to my shoes." I did as she said and stood there, next to her huge feet, waiting

for whatever might come next.

10

A ring around my neck

After a few minutes Onda rose from her chair and, standing very close to me,

pulled the ribbon a little and said,

"Look at me".

Although I had been my new size for a whole year I had always looked and talked

to Onda from my cage, and she had always kept certain distance when interacting

with me. Once or twice I had seen her more closely together, especially during

my first escape attempt, when I mistook her legs for a pair of white columns.

But, all in all, I was pretty used to some space between us. That's why to look

at her now, while standing right next to her legs, was so scary. She was simply

huge. Think of the difference between looking at an elephant from the safety of

a far fence in the zoo to suddenly finding yourself between the animal's legs.

Once I met her eyes she said,

"We are now starting our closer partnership. Always be careful not to stand or

walk right in front of me, for I could easily squash you. Just watch your step

and make sure you aren't in my way."

And with this she started to walk. Although she walked rather slowly, I had to

kind of trot in order to keep pace. The ring around my neck constantly corrected

any difference in rhythm between us through Onda's dexterous pulling of the

ribbon. First we went to the kitchen. It was evening and Onda hadn't eaten yet.

She took a few things from the fridge and put them on the kitchen counter to

prepare something. I stood next to her legs looking up at her immensity as she

cut and chopped vegetables I couldn't see. She put everything on a small tray

and carried it to the table. I ran at her side. Onda sat on a stool, crossed her

huge legs under the table and brought down in her hand a coaster containing some

food for me.

"Sit down on the ground next to my feet and eat all this,” she ordered. "When

you finish off stand up on your feet again and wait." she added.

I took the coaster (which was like a very big plate for me) from her hand,

walked a few steps up to where her feet were, and sat down as she had said. I

also stood again once I finished. I hadn't really been that hungry but I

finished off my food all right as she said. I was going to be a good boy. I

don't think she could see whether I was sitting or standing, but she sure could

guess by the movement of the ribbon. After a quarter of an hour she said.

"Pril, come out from under the table with your coaster and give it back to me."

I did as she said. It was amazing to see her easily taking with two fingers a

little coaster that was like a round tray for me. She put the dirty dishes in

the dishwasher and switched off the kitchen light. Our next stop was the living

room. I followed her closely as she walked down the corridor into the room and

up to the sofa. She sat on it, crossed her legs and, pointing to the TV remote

control on the low coffee table, said,

"Bring it to me".

These simple words would form the first chore Onda ever ordered me to do. The

first of so many to come to this very day.

I grabbed the thing with both my hands and passed it to her.

"Sit down", Onda commanded.

And with this she clicked the TV on and started to surf the channels. I hadn't

watched a second of TV (or, for that matter, hadn't done anything at all but

wait and suffer) for a whole year; so I could have enjoyed just about anything.

Onda stayed a few seconds on each channel before going on to the next one. Jerry

Springer was on, too. Neither of us was a big fan of that show, although once I

had forced Onda to watch an episode in which they talked about battered women,

just to show her that she wasn't the only one. Like a joke from destiny, the

issue tonight was something like "He married her because she was big, but left

her for an even bigger one". And you could see these two huge fat women

wrestling and insulting each other over this scrawny little eyeglassed fellow

who was trying to separate them, all three of them rolling on the stage like

monkeys. I looked up at Onda and she glanced back at me. Did I see the faintest

shadow of a smile on her face?

Eventually she found some uninteresting, half-started movie, which was the only

entertaining thing going on at that hour of the night. In spite of the renewed

pleasure of watching TV, the boring movie plus the fact that I was at last out

of my cage, made my mind work in a different direction. I started looking around

from my very low, sitting position, still surprised at the size of everything.

Much as I tried to look for variety, it was Onda's feet and legs that eventually

became the focus of my interest. I was so close to them and they looked so

incredibly beautiful! How come I had never noticed in the past how attractive

they were when looked at from the ground? How come I had always understood

sexual arousement by trying to dominate my women? My helplessness at my wife's

size, my fear of her strength, the stupid ring around my neck, and the ribbon

leading right into her powerful hand. What was happening to me? I felt so horny!

I continued to stare at those feet, one of them comfortably hanging as her legs

were crossed. God, it was so beautiful! Suddenly, all that year of suffering and

restriction in my cage seemed to be a necessary step for me to understand what I

myself was all about. Was Onda guiding me to my true self, to being a little

foot adorer expecting his mistress's orders? I started to feel a kind of

communion with Onda. I was wrapped in a shroud of love I had never felt before.

And I had to show it to her; to express, somehow, my new feelings.

Following an urgent impulse, I rose to my feet and gave a step or two toward her

towering legs in order to kiss them. But before I knew it, I felt the ring

catching my throat and my whole body fly high into the air.

"Ju

Giantess Stories: My Life as a Little Husband  By Pril   1 Introduction  The other day I sent a very short message to this board following my wife

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