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5/20/2014 12:44 am  #1


Dorm Life

Another Monday morning; I hate 8am classes. I roll out of bed at the sound of my alarm, and lurch into the bathroom. I can hear my roomate getting ready as I brush my teeth, and feel the floor shaking slightly from his footsteps. I pull on my clothes and dash out my door, onto the floor. I should explain; I'm part of one of the first classes of littles to attend a normal size university. To help us navigate an institution designed for students 12 or 15 times our height, we're each assigned a full size student with a similar class schedule to room with, who's supposed to keep us safe and help us get where we need to be. I was understandably nervous about signing up - after all I never met the guy before we moved in - but so far it's been okay. Admittedly some of the other students don't really seem to grasp my status as an autonomous person, and even Miles, my roommate, is sometimes a bit less concerned with what I want than I would prefer, but overall it's still been a good experience so far. Miles leans over and picks me up, and we're out the door in a flash, me enclosed in his fist; we're almost late for class.

We arrive at the classroom, a large lecture hall, just as the professor begins speaking. Miles sets me down on the desk, and gets his laptop out of his backpack to take notes; I sit cross-legged on the desk with my specially made super-tiny computer, doing the same. The class is long, and feels longer because of the professors droning monotone. A few minutes into class Miles leans down next to me and whispers - though it's still plenty loud to me - "This class is killing me Jack - email me your notes later, and I'll do the same thing for you next class." I nod in affirmation, even though the pattern so far in the semester has been me taking the notes much more often than him. He says "thanks, man" his breath hitting me like a hot, fast wind I spend the rest of the class taking notes while miles half-sleeps. As the professor wraps up he jerks back to full consiousness and packs up his things, gently picking me up and slipping me into my pocket, then heads off to our next class. Another lecture follows the same pattern, Miles paying only a little attention while I take thourough notes.  In truth I don't really mind being his de-facto scribe and tutor. It makes me feel useful and important, which can be hard when you're living in a world far to big for you, where even simple tasks can be insurmountable. After this class, we head to the cafeteria.

Miles grabs his food, and plops down at a table with a few other freshman, setting me down next to his plate. He breaks off a few crumbs of his food - a bit of hamburger and a piece of a french fry - and sets it on a napkin on the table for me to eat, then commences to chow down on the rest. The little bit he gave me is still more than I could finish, even though it's about the same size as the crumbs at the corners of his mouth. Watching giants eat can be amazing - seeing mountains of food big enough for me to bury myself in dissapear in a few bites - and also a bit disgusting; the nastiness of seeing someone chew with their mouth open increases exponentially with size. There's one other tiny at this table, a tall athletic guy named Joseph, about 5 inches taller than me, so around 6'3'' (that's using the scaled down proportional measurements we tinies use in our day to day business-to a normal person our height difference would be measured in millimeters) with a dark complexion. I cross over to see him, and he meets me in the middle of the table, by the salt and pepper.

"What's up Jack?"

"Not much Joe, just been doing all this guys work for him in class, you know the usual." I laughed, gesturing back at Miles

"Well I'm no better than Chris when it comes to that stuff, so I don't have that problem." 

At this point our conversation was interupted as we were both scooped up unceremoniously into someone's hand. Usually Miles was pretty good about making sure no one was rude about handling me, but the hand we were in belonged to a cute blonde girl, so my caretaker was more interested in keeping her attention. He talked to her as she reached down with her other hand to move me around, first rotatng one of my arms as though to check how it was attached to me, then rotating me around in her palm to look at me from different angles, then doing the same to Joseph. 
 Miles finally decided to say "Here don't pull em around like that." he reached out and she placed us in his hand."They'll listen to you if you ask, they don't like being manhandled." Now he directed his attention down to the two of us in his hand. "turn around so she can see you" I rolled my eyes, but complied, not wanting to interfere with his conversation with the girl, who he was clearly interested in. He set Joe back down on the table, then had me do a cartwheel on the palm of his hand, then a handstand on the tip of one of his fingers. This got the whole table smiling. It was pretty intimidating to see five or six giants all looming over and staring right at me, but I had gotten used to that. At least Mile's little show starring me had worked - the girl was at least paying attention to him.

Miles walked out with me in his hand, talking and joking with the girl, Alyssa. After they parted ways, Miles bumped into a couple guys from our dorm, who were going to play some basketball. He joined them, and in a couple minutes we were at the court. He dropped his backpack on a bench and set me down next to it, saying "you've got something on your computer to keep busy with, right?" but not really waiting for a response. The other guys shed whatever they were carrying on the bench and the ground around it, then headed out to play. I sat down with my computer and tried to study, though the squeaking of shoes, the slam of the ball and the shouts of the players - all magnified to ludicrous scale - made it fairly hard to focus. Not to mention the occaisonal office-building sized player zooming past at what looked and felt like 60 miles an hour.

After about 45 minutes they quit playing and came over to where me and their stuff had been left. One moved the bag next to me and sat there, then another picked me up and sat down where I had previously been. He dropped me on his lap so he could use two hands to open a drink. He was sweaty and shirtless, so I was recieving a slight salty rain since he was hunched over me. Once the drink was open, he picked me back up. He grinned down at me and said "How's it going little man?" I smiled back and shouted "Hey Chris! Doing good!" hopefully loud enough for him to hear; but he got the message through my body language anyway. I had met him before a couple times; he found my small size fascinating and endlessly amusing, and loved holding me and playing with me and doing things like having me ride on his shoe, or on his head. Despite his somewhat overbearing attention, his enthusiasm was endearing, and he was faultlessly gentle and careful when handling me, and was fairly conscientious about making sure I wasn't scared or uncomfortable wherever I was placed or held, even after he had a few drinks in him, which was a bit more than I could say for some I had met. So overall I quite liked him. He was also a particularly big guy. while I was only mostly enclosed when held in Miles's closed fist, Chris's hands swallowed me up completely, my five inch frame dissapearing in his expansive palms. His other hand approached me and he extended one monumental finger, and we performed our version of a handshake; I wrapped both arms around his finger and he gently wiggled it back and forth, moving my whole body. He laughed, and I dropped back into his palm and smiled up at him. He talked and joked with the other giants while playing with me in his hands, tilting his hand so I had to hang on to the edge to stop from falling and having me walk out on an extended finger like a balance beam. 

After a while the giants picked up their bags and headed off. Chris smiled down at me, and then leaned over. He stuck me on the edge of his high-top basketball shoe and started walking. I wedged myself between the shoe and his socked ankle. Despite the smell and the wetness from being pressed against the giants sweaty sock, this was actually a pretty nice way of getting around. It beat being jostled around with keys and spare change in a pocket, and provided more fresh air than being enclosed in a hand. The group moved upstairs, into one of their rooms. Chris sat down, and put his feet up on a coffee table; he acted like he was ignoring me, but I could see him glancing down at me to see what I would do. I pulled myself out and hung on the side of the shoe, which was now vertical instead of horizontal. I saw that Chris's shoe lace was partially untied, hanging near me. I reached over and grabbed it, then leaped down from the shoe, swinging down on the shoelace. hanging down, I was only a few inches from the floor, so I dropped to the carpet. Chris's huge foot moved above me, then came to rest on the floor behind me. I crossed under the coffee table, to where Miles and another giant were sitting on the floor, watching TV. As I was passing by the first one to get to miles, I saw the giants towering body shift; he leaned backward, and put his arm back to lean on. Before I could react, his hand was coming down on top of me. I was instantly pinned to the floor under one finger. The giant noticed me under his hand, and scooped me up. As he brought me in front of his face, he realized what I was and laughed a little. Then he closed his hand with me in it, and handed me to Miles, who glanced down at me then absentmindedly dropped me on his lap. Soon, we had to leave for out next class.

Last edited by yourninja (7/18/2014 1:58 am)

 

7/20/2014 11:25 pm  #2


Re: Dorm Life

A couple days later, I was riding in Miles bag - we were headed to a coffee shop off campus for some late night studying. He ordered a drink, and set up his laptop and a couple books on a table. For a few minutes we went over my notes, then we read separately, though he would occaisonally reach over and pick me up to explain something to him or remind him of what was supposed to be on the test. I sat down near the edge of the bag, on a book, while he reclined in his chair with his feet up on the table. After a while, he got up to use the bathroom. He was gone for less than a minute when I peaked out of the bag to see an unfamiliar shape looming over our table. I started to step out to see who it was, but before I moved more than an inch I saw the strange giant closing Miles laptop, and pushing it into the bag. I was sent tumbling to the bottom of the bag as the giant lifted it up and walked out of the store. I really started freaking out when I heard a car door. Then I felt the bag being set down, and heard the engine start up. I couldn't do anything but stay hidden in the bottom of the bag and wait to see what came.

It was less than 10 minutes later when the car stopped I felt the bag being carried out, up some stairs, and through a door before being set down on a table. The unfamiliar giant pulled out the laptop first, and spent a couple minutes inspecting it. As he began pulling out books I scurried out of the way and tucked myself in the back. He seemed less interestes in the books, and only took a moment before finishing with all of them. Then his massive hand reached in and began scooping the various leftovers out of the bottom of the bag. I managed to dodge his reach as he tossed aside a couple pens and a half melted candy bar and inspected a small notebook for a moment. The next time was hopeless; I was scooped helplessly into his hand alongside some spare change and candy wrappers. I heard an audible "Huh?" as he felt me squirming in his grasp. He opened his hand, and I looked up to see a massive face dominating the sky, young, around 20, with a medditerannead complexion, and fringed by shaggy black hair. He saw me, and his confused expression instantly turned into a grin. 

"Oh my God!" he nearly shouted, his hot breath like a hurricane wind and his roaring voice making me duck and cover my ears "I stole a gnome? My first time in years doing something like this and I steal a real life tiny? This is bizzare."

He transferred me to his other hand, now pinning me between thumb and finger, discarding the stuff in his other hand. He began curiously playing with my body like I was an action figure, bending my limbs this way and that, seeing how far they'd go before they started straining. He squeezed my head between thumb and forefinger, one way then the other, forcing my mouth open and closed, then laughed out loud at the facial expression I made.

I started resisting, flailing my arms and shouting. He laughed again and stopped, now simply holding me in his hand.

"Sorry, I guess that was mean. I just haven't had a tiny since I was a kid. What's your name?"

I stuttered, shocked by a personal question after such impersonal treatment. "Jack?"

"Cool, nice to meet you Jack. I used to catch tinies all the time when I was a kid - there was a colony of them in the woods near my house. I'd keep them and play with them until I got bored with them or got to feeling sorry for them, or my mom found out I had them and made me put them back."

I didn't know how to respond - was I supposed to identify with his stories of capturing people like me and treating us like pets or toys? But he kept talking.

"I guess I should let you go too, send you back to whoever you belong to."

"I don't belong to anyone, but I stay on campus with Miles Ran-"

He cut me off:

"But how can I send you back now? You saw me steal that laptop. That was stupid to begin with. I haven't stolen anything since I was 14. I just saw it lying there, and their wasn't anyone watching since the baristas couldn't see that table behind the corner, and I just went for it. That wasn't smart; I'm about to graduate and I'm trying to get myself in trouble with the law."

"I won't tell if you send me back. I swear!"

"You say that now, and maybe you even mean it since you're so scared, but once you're back with your owner there won't be anything to keep you honest."

"He's not my owner... but that's not the point I promise by my life I'll never tell him! I don't even know your name."

"See, when you're in my hand you'll do anything to make me happy, but once you're in his hand you'll do whatever he wants, especially if he puts a little pressure on you. Plus it doesn't matter whether you know my name, you might see me around campus and recognize me. The names David, by the way."

I tried to respond, but only managed a panicked squeak.

"Yeah, I guess I'm gonna have to keep you."

Last edited by yourninja (7/21/2014 9:17 am)

     Thread Starter
 

3/16/2015 3:11 pm  #3


Re: Dorm Life

I woke up to the slightly muffled blaring of an alarm clock, followed shortly by a deafening bang and what felt like a major earthquake. That was the result of David groggily hitting his alarm clock. My new residence in the top drawer of his bedside table made every morning a pretty dramatic experience. I sat there in the dark, listening as the giant rolled out of bed and went about his morning routine. I looked around the space that has served as my home for the past almost two weeks since he stole me. I sat in the front corner in me bed, which consisted of an unmatched athletic sock that David had had lying around. It was not quite clean, but the odor was not overwhelming and I adjusted to it within the first few days. A couple inches away was lid of a coke bottle, filled with water and the lid of some jar which held food. In the back corner was a folded paper towel which served as a replaceable toilet. That was about it.
     The world shook again slightly as David retrieved something out of another drawer, and I perked up hoping he would open mine. I know it sounds absurd to crave the company of the guy who was holding me captive, but the alternative was sitting alone in my mostly bare room, which is what I spent most of the time doing. That seemed to make for a particularly strong form of Stockholm syndrome, and I could tell that I had it bad. I switched between shaking with rage when I thought about him, and hoping desperately for his hand to appear and pick me up, and to hear his huge rumbling voice speaking to me, even if it was teasing me or calling "bug" as he likes to do.
     A little while later my drawer does open, and the giants hand does reach in. He doesn't speak to me, just scoops me up and walks into the kitchen. He sets me on the dining table and turns back to the stove, then returns to the table with plate holding bacon, eggs, and toast. I'm starving so I rush over; usually when I eat with him I just pick what I can off the edge of the plate. As I pull myself onto the dish, I am suddenly thrust back down onto the table; he had casually pushed me down with his fork.
   "Nope you gotta work for it today." He mumbles with his mouth full.
    I step away from the plate and stare up at him. Each fork full he casually consumes probably weighs as much or more than I do, but he enjoys having me do tricks in exchange for my food. He even assigns hand signals to each little performance, one for the back flip, one for the cartwheel, and so on. At least I'm keeping in shape; I can definitely do more of those kinds of things than before I got here. This interaction is a prime example of the weird duality of my relationship with David; on an intellectual level this is humiliating and demeaning, but after two weeks with no contact with anyone else and my servitude to him, seeing a smirk of amusement cross his mouth feels like a real accomplishment, and I feel motivated to try and make him laugh out loud.
     He signals for me to walk on my hands, I have to try a few times before I make it far enough to satisfy him, but then I get my reward. He wipes his mouth with his hand, and shakes a piece of egg onto the table that dislodged from the corner of his mouth. Eating like this was disgusting at first, but knowing that it's the only breakfast I'll get-and that I could go hungry all day if I refuse any food he offers me- makes it more appetizing.
   I stand up and beg for more, and he offers me a piece of toast without even having to do anything for it. Soon enough he picks me up and sets me back in my drawer.

     Thread Starter
 

3/21/2015 1:24 pm  #4


Re: Dorm Life

Good to see you back

 

4/30/2015 5:04 pm  #5


Re: Dorm Life

With David gone, my day is spent in relative boredom. In my bedside table prison there's not much too do. I work out-calisthenics and stuff, that doesn't require any equipment- which has definitely made an impact on my physique, but I can only do that for so long. When I'm tired I sleep, or just sit there, about as excited as any other pencil, expired coupon, or clothespin left to sit in a drawer. While my captor isn't here my craving for his attention tends to turn to resentment. It's beyond dehumanizing to be stuck into a drawer and left there for almost the entire day; it makes me feel like a cheap object who only has purpose when my owner monetarily amuses himself with me. I often think of escape at these times, but it's impossible; I have about as much chance of opening this drawer as a regular person would of shifting the great pyramid at Giza. I do remember David talking on the phone with someone about having a party tonight though; more people around could present a chance, though I'm not sure how.

     Thread Starter
 

5/09/2015 10:27 pm  #6


Re: Dorm Life

Eventually I hear David return. He walks in and out a couple times, it sounds like he's carrying stuff in and setting it on the counter. He walks into the bedroom and I feel one of the other drawers in my dresser open, but I stay in the dark, and he leaves the room. Soon enough I hear the booming sound of other giants entering the apartment. Their conversation, muffled through the door of the bedroom and the walls of my little prison, is like distant thunder. The voices I hear are men, and there are only a handful of them, but it's not long before more people arrive, men and women. I can tell that now there are at least 25 or so people present, and music has been turned on. I can only hear snippets of conversation out of the roar of music, giant voices, and booming laughter.

I listen attentively, but I can't recognize any individual voices. I don't know what difference it would make if I could; even if everyone there was dead quiet they wouldn't be able to hear my little insect voice all the way from the other room. Still, the prospect that someone who might be interested in freeing me might be just in the other room was beyond exciting.

Later on I heard people enter the room. There were two of them, a man and a woman. David was not there. They sounded drunk when they spoke, even more so in their laughter and the sound of sloppy kissing. Suddenly hope struck me in its least expected form. The two giants fell heavily against the dresser, knocking it sideways and my drawer partially open. I looked up, saw the back of my unwitting saviors leg. Next the two fell into the bed. One of them placed a foot against the dresser, and promply knocked it to the ground. I scurried out onto the floor, all my plans and dreams of getting back to my old life rushing through my head. I scurry towards the door; I can see all the drunk giants sprawled around the living room. What exactly do I do now?

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