"Anyway, today we'll be heading to one of my soccer practices." Riley explained, wincing a little bit. "I-I know it's not the most exciting thing in the world, dad, but I'd love for you to watch me perform and maybe give some feedback?"
You raised an eyebrow. "I'd love to, Riley, but you know I'm nowhere near an expert on soccer techniques."
"Sure, but I really value whatever you have to say anyway." Your daughter admitted with a smile, that you wholeheartedly returned. Riley's continual love for you, and her idolizing you as a hero, was something that still was hard to wrap your head around, but you were endlessly touched and inspired by it.
"Then let's do it!" You flashed a thumbs-up, provoking a quick chuckle from your daughter as she scooped you up onto her shoulder and then rushed out of the house, heading towards her car. The drive to Weston wasn't long, and soon she arrived and placed you back on her shoulder.
As she walked to the field, you thought back on your daughter's history with the sport.
Riley had loved any and all sports since the moment she could toddle, but aside from swimming, she'd gravitated the most towards soccer. She'd been a veritable demon on the field since elementary school, and you were pretty confident she was right on the cusp of scoring a major contract deal with a major state team at the rate of improvement and fame she was going at. She was incredible out there on the field, and about the only person at Weston who could even remotely hold a candle to her was her rival and pseudo-friend, Persephone Graham.
Now, Riley would never in a million years want to hear you call Persephone her 'friend', but it was honestly true. Despite the girls' frequent bickering, taunting, and fiercely competitive spirits, they really did get along great, and had slowly been spending more time hanging out outside of school (even if said hangouts were accompanied by the sort of eye-roll worthy tsundere dialogue you'd find in an anime). To anyone with eyes and ears, it was apparent your daughter and Persephone had a thing for each other...which truthfully brought about a problem.
Persephone Graham was the daughter of Penelope Graham, your old school tormentor, one of the most sadistic women ever born, and the woman singlehandedly trying to return the CTC to power and make tinies across the globe miserable for eternity.
If rumors were to be believed, Persephone was just as bad as her mother, and that wasn't a surprise given her membership in the Omega Gamma Phi sorority (itself a notoriously sadistic den of tiny-abusing giantesses). Truthfully, you hadn't seen Persephone do much to tinies that you hadn't witnessed from an everyday giantess, and it was mainly the girl's best friend Ivy Green who seemed to do the heavy lifting in the traumatizing and disgusting affected torture, but you still kept your distance from Persephone as best you could. It was better to be safe than sorry.
But it was that admittance of not technically knowing Persephone's complacency in abusing tinies that prevented you from outright banning your daughter from interacting with her. You might have a thousand misgivings towards the girl's mother, but as Persephone had never outright abused you herself, you were withholding judgement. For now.
Regardless, Riley and Persephone were the stars of the soccer team, and co-captains. Alongside their tough-as-nails instructor, Coach Sandra, the girls had led the Weston soccer team to countless victories and significant acclaim state-wide.
You blinked, returning from your thoughts to the present time and place...right in time to realize your daughter was halfway through walking into the locker room with you still on her shoulder!
Eyes bulging at the thought of being brought into a locker room filled with twenty-something women in various states of undress, you frantically shouted at your daughter.
Jumping at the sound of your voice, Riley turned her head and widened her eyes as she beheld you. From her flummoxed expression, you realized her forgetfulness (an accursed but inescapable trait from Mari) had struck, and she'd forgotten you were even with her. Already more than halfway into the locker room, Riley looked panicked, no doubt terrified Coach Sandra was about to sneak up from behind her, notice you, and reprimand both you and her.
Whispering a quick apology, Riley shook her shoulder, dislodging you from place and sending you tumbling to the ground below, where you slightly splattered on the sidewalk. Your daughter winced down at you, motioned for you to head towards the bleachers, and then slipped inside the locker room, disappearing from sight. Though far from how you wanted this daddy-daughter day to start out, at least you'd been spared the humiliation (and arguably grounds for punishment) of being found inside the women's locker room as both a) a man, b) not a member of the team, and c) an adult twenty-years older than everyone else.
And yet, right as you reformed but before you could breathe a sigh of relief, a shadow fell over you, and your blood went cold.
You slowly turned around, and found two chunky pink boots on either side of your body. Trailing upwards, your eyes took in large swathes of pale legs that expanded into two thighs thick as tree trunks, which then hit a scandalously short mini-skirt that hardly covered a bit of the girl's massive hips and booty. Above that was a pronounced gut that strained against a size-too-small tee (not quite fat, but certainly noticeably plump), and even more massive mammaries atop that, a set of breasts so large they blocked the girls face completely from view. And yet, you could just barely make out short, pixie-cut black hair.
It was Ivy Green, the tiny-destroying terror alongside Persephone (if the rumors were to be believed) of Weston University.
The daughter of a disgraced CTC bigwig, Ivy was the epitome of the dangerous cycle that society had almost stumbled into, and was still waging a constant war with. Because of the CTC's authority and reach, it was indoctrinating more and more women to their affected-abusing and dystopian ways, and those women were in turn teaching those lessons to their children. And while the stem of society descending into a tiny-enslavement reality were lessening thanks to your sister Jenna and the FTTF, Ivy was proof that some bad apples still didn't fall far from the tree.
The thicc-figured girl knelt down, her cold dark eyes glinting with unrestrained glee. "Aw, look at you, little guy? That desperate to peep on our innocent girls in the soccer team?"
You paled, and waved your hands frantically. "N-No, it's not like that at all!"
Ivy laughed, her voice dripping with malice. "No need to get flustered, little guy. I can't really blame you. Those girls are some of the prettiest on campus, aren't they? Still, you're going through so much work to get your rocks off, and that breaks my heart." Ivy smirked maliciously at her crude comment. "If you really wanted to spend life shoved inside a girl, you just had to ask me!"
Before you could run, Ivy's hand lashed out and grabbed you, crushing your chest in her fist. She stood back up. "See, this is why I don't get why you little guys hate the CTC so much. We just wanna give you what you all clearly want, and were obviously born to desire! It's, like, a symbiotic relationship!" Ivy laughed again as she lowered you to her monumental booty, and hooked a finger to pull back her mini-skirt waistband. "Anyway, say 'hi' to the dude I shoved in there last night, and tell him it's boring when he doesn't keep squirming!"
You let out a muffled scream at the sight of Ivy's rank ass crack, your cry tickling her thumb. Suddenly, the demonic girl pulled back, and raised you back up to her face. "Aaaactually...maybe you do deserve to be with the team. Yeah...oh yeah, that sounds fucking hilarious, actually!"
Ivy crumpled you back into her hand, and then strolled inside the locker room. As she walked in, she waved happily to her friends and other familiar faces, Ivy herself being one of the most popular Weston students. She gave Riley and Persephone each a pat on the back, and then tracked down Coach Sandra. Once she approached, she held you out proudly towards the older but maturely refined brunette.
"Here ya go, chief! I've such a way with words that I wrangled you up a new PET!" Ivy declared with a grin, and your blood went cold.
PETs, or Performance Enhancing Tinies, were a CTC invention that just wouldn't go away despite Jenna's efforts. On paper, it was the legal way to get tinies to volunteer to serve as clothing and support for women's sports team. In practice, it was legalized enslavement propagated by women of ill-repute and unscrupulous morals.
Whether she believed Ivy's story or not, Sandra still nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, Ivy. Our best cheerleader and a compelling saleswoman. What can't you do?" The older woman snatched you, and quickly began molding you into a flat shape, despite your efforts to flail to freedom.
From across the locker room, you could spot Riley finishing getting dressed, and though she was only twenty-feet away, it may as well have been a hundred miles for what good it did in getting saved from this nightmare Ivy had just thrown you into.
1) Sandra molds you into an insole and gives you to Riley. Riley actually recognizes you, but unable to make a scene and out your identity, is forced to quietly use you. How long is she able to take it easy on you before her bad memory kicks in?
2) Sandra molds you into an insole and gives you to Riley, who remains wholly oblivious to your identity for the entire practice.
3) Sandra molds you into a thong, and gives you to the first player to ask for you. Who does it end up being?
4) Sandra molds you into a sweat towel, to be shared by all the girls in between drills and plays.
5) *Writer's Choice*
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
