Some quick notes.
This is the chapter that swings into NSFW territory. If you're not into that sort of thing you should probably stop reading after the wedding photos. If you're only here for the smut (and there's nothing wrong with that) you might want to skip to that point.
Right now my plan is to work on finishing the first part of Carrie and Jack's story, getting them through their wedding day and maybe part of their honeymoon. That should be another two parts. Maybe three. I can get wordy. I'll probably take a short break from this to give me time to work on plotting the rest of the story and getting the new Shrink Inc book edited for publication.
Thanks again to those people on GiantessCity who've given me encouraging words.
And for the foot fans out there, there's no foot content in this part despite the image I chose to accompany it. Sorry. I just like the picture and the perspective.
Enough jibber jabber.
Vows: Wedding Day Pt 3
copyright 2017 Taedis
“Obviously Jack's not allowed back in that Olive Garden. Ever.”
David was hoping for a big laugh at that point, but all he got was a smattering of nervous titters from the school age kids. They weren't laughing at his skills as a raconteur, they were giggling because a grown-up had screwed up so badly so publicly. Everyone else was too uptight or too sober to appreciate David's crash and burn approach to his best man's speech.
“But seriously, I've known Jack since we were six. I've seen all the other girls he's been with and none of them are anything like Carrie. You got yourself a real winner there, dude.”
He'd spent twenty minutes rambling on about the most embarrassing moment in my life and he was trying to salvage the speech with that.
David gestured at us with his champagne flute before draining it down in one long guzzle.
“To Jack and Carrie.” David said before quickly sitting back down.
The rest of the room drank their toasts in silence except for Earl and Josephine who gave David a slow clap ovation. I think little Jo was trying to stomp her feet in Earl's breast pocket, but only managed to kick her husband's nipple.
Everything had been going smoothly up till then. People mingled. Had a few drinks. Bonded over how impossibly hot it was inside the Old Church and thanked God for the air conditioned hall. Carrie's uncle Seth had his catering crew, supplemented by some of the church's high schoolers, serve up some delicious barbecue. Everyone was full and happy when David stood up to make his speech.
“That's not going in our wedding video.” Carrie said.
We were seated by ourselves at a table in the front of the hall so only I heard her.
“He was nervous.” I don't know why I was defending him after that. “And maybe a little drunk.”
“I'm not going to let him ruin today.” Carrie took a deep breath. “For now we're just going to say he's off our Christmas card list.”
One of the high school kids Seth had hired as waitstaff came up to our table and refilled Carrie's glass. He went to refill mine, but Carrie put her hand over my glass.
“Sparkling cider for my husband, Phil. Non-alcoholic.”
Phil nodded at Carrie and scurried off to get the other bottle.
“You're cutting me off already?”
“It's for your own good, honey.” Carrie covered my hand with her much larger one.
“I've only had one glass.”
“And you're at least 30 pounds lighter than when you woke up this morning.”
“So I'm a lightweight. Literally.”
“I don't want to find out what your new limits are by having you pass out on me. When I said I wanted a wedding night to remember I wasn't talking about taking you to the ER.”
Carrie took a sip from her champagne. The same champagne that I wasn't allowed to have. Then she moved her hand from mine and placed it on my leg under the table.
“Is there anything you think I'm forgetting?” Carrie slid her hand up my thigh.
“No.” I could feel myself responding to her touch.
“Then you agree with my decision?”
“You know best, honey.”
“Of course I do.” Carrie patted my thigh then took her hand away.
“Attention everybody. Pete has something he's going to say.” Irma called out from the center of the dance floor. Her husband, Pete stood right behind her, his hands resting on her tiny shoulders. She was holding both their glasses. Pete's champagne flute was filled with beer.
“This is gonna be short and sweet.” Pete gave David a sideways look. “Carrie…Jack…I'm not gonna pretend that I understand the choice you made, but it was your choice, not anyone else's. What happens between a man and wife is no one's business, but God's. Reverend Soames tells me there's nothing wrong with a 'modern' marriage, so I guess God is fine with it. And I ain't ever got nowhere arguing with God. Irma informs me that you're a part of the family now, Jack and I ain't had no luck arguing with her either.”
Pete took his camouflaged beer from Irma and pointed it at to us.
“Welcome to the family, Jack. Carrie, take good care of your husband.”
Pete drank. The rest of the room joined him in the toast.
Someone started tapping their knife on their drained glass. Then another. And more until Carrie cupped my face in her hands and bent down to kiss me.
“Friends, family, fellow congregants,” Irma said, lifting her own glass in toast. “It is my great honor and privilege to introduce to you the new couple, Carrie and Jack. May they always be as happy as they are right now.”
Irma and the rest of the room drank to that.
“Carrie and Jack have picked a special piece of music we're going to play once Pete and I get out of their way. Carrie, get Jack up here and show us how it's done.”
Carrie took me by the hand and led me out to the middle of the dance floor. Joan made a beeline for the iPod hooked up to the hall's sound system.
Carrie took my hand in hers and placed her other on my side. We'd practiced yesterday, when I was my old height, before I had to reach up to put my free hand on Carrie's shoulder. Before I had to look up to see her smiling down on me. It was still disconcerting to be face level with her breasts, her nipples slightly higher than my eyes, but I'd get used to it.
Joan pressed play and our wedding list started.
This looks familiar, vaguely familiar.
Almost unreal, yet, it's too soon to feel yet.
Carrie pulled me in close placing her strong right hand on my lower back. Close enough that I couldn't see her face anymore. Or the dozens of people watching and recording this moment. She began to move to the music and I had no choice but to follow.
Close to my soul, and yet so far away.
I'm going to go back there someday.
I thought it would feel strange having her lead. It had, a little, when we practiced. Like a dress rehearsal without the costumes. But now it was real. Now we were what we were going to be for the rest of our lives. We'd committed to our roles. It was natural … comfortable for her to take the lead.
Come and go with me, it's more fun to share.
We'll both be completely at home in midair.
I could hear Carrie's heart beat over the sound of the music through the white dress she was wearing. I wanted to see her face again, but I was satisfied with her heart.
We're flyin', not walkin', on featherless wings.
We can hold onto love like invisible strings.
I felt something hot and wet land on the top of my head. Carrie placed her cheek on the top of my head like she had done before only this time she was crying.
There's not a word yet for old friends who've just met.
Part heaven, part space, or have I found my place?
Carrie and I swayed together on the dance floor. I listened to the song and the gentle beating of her heart. I felt her tears baptize me from above and cried a few of my own into the bosom of her white dress. We kept on dancing after the last note played, moving to the rhythm of our hearts and tears, barely aware of the room full of people surrounding us. Applauding us.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Carrie's voice carried through her whole body.
“Best dance ever.”
“You're damned right it was.”
“Carrie and Jack now invite anyone who wants to to join them in the next dance.” Joan said. “Carrie, this one's from me. Your sister from another mister.”
A toast to the groom!
To the groom!
To the groom!
To the bride! To the groom!
To the bride!
To the bride!
From your sister To the bride!
Who is always by your side
I could tell you how many heartbeats we danced to by the time Joan pulled us off the floor, but not how many songs.
“I hate to pull you two apart, but Hannah needs you.” Joan explained. “And you need to get Jack ready for the cake.”
“Am I popping out of it?”
“Do you trust me?” Carrie gave my hand a squeeze.
“Then I won't spoil your surprise.”
“That was a great first dance, you two.” Hannah said, pulling first Carrie then me into a hug. “I've been doing this as long as you've been alive and that … that was really special.”
“It was amazing.” Joan said. “You two are so damn cute I could just eat you up.”
“I just need to get a few more posed shots for the album then you can get ready for cake in the bride's side. You think you're going to need my help with that?” Hannah addressed the last question to Carrie.
“As long as the equipment's there I've got this.”
“I've left the camcorder there on a tripod with a fresh memory stick. Don't be shy about picking it up and taking it anywhere you need it to go. That's what it's designed for. When you're finished just pop the stick out and you've got the only copy.”
“What happens in the bride's side stays in the bride's side?” Carrie asked. She was smiling.
“Exactly.” Hannah grinned back, sharing a joke that flew over my head. “And if you do decide you need some help I'll be right outside guarding the door.”
“Now I really want to know what you're talking about.” I said.
“Nah ha. No spoilers.” Carrie kissed my nose.
Hannah ran us through the traditional wedding shots. Pictures of Carrie and me with various family members and the wedding party. Then some shots of just the two of us at different points along the fellowship hall. Between pictures Carrie'd take me in her arms and dance with me until Hannah was ready to set up the next shot.
When we'd exhausted the standard poses we moved on to the Vanksian ones.
Hannah had taken some before shots last night after the the rehearsal dinner. Me standing behind Carrie resting my chin on her shoulder. The two of us standing back-to-back with me obviously taller than her. Me putting my hand on Carrie's head and keeping her at arm's length while she tried uselessly to fake hit me.
Hannah took the after shots with me in the smaller roll. A picture of me with Carrie pressed against my back her chin resting on my shoulder. Carrie towering over me standing back-to-back. Me flailing my arms trying to reach her. Joan suggested a few others.
“That should do it for now. I'll see you both at the cake cutting.” Hannah said. “Good luck.”
“Joan, is Jack's wedding bag in the bride's side?”
“And a fresh glass of water.”
“You're the best.”
The two women shared a long hug.
“Come along, honey.” Carrie took my hand. “It's almost time for cake.”
She led me to a room in the back of the hall set off from everything else. It was a small windowless space with only a couple straight back chairs and the items Hannah and Joan had promised.
“So what's the bride's side?” I asked.
“A place we get to have a little private fun before we go back to the party.” Carrie grabbed my wedding bag and retrieved the pills she gave me in the nursery. She tossed me the bottle. “Take three of those.”
“Exactly how much private fun are we talking about?” I threw three pills into my mouth and washed them down without a second thought.
“We're not going to consummate our union in this overgrown closet if that's what you're worried about. That'd be wrong. On so many levels.”
“The way you and Hannah were talking it sounded like maybe this was some sort of boudoir photography setup without the boudoir.”
“Something like that.”
“Kinky. You know you might get more converts if you let more people know about this side of your faith.”
“We like to keep this to ourselves. All the other religions would just get jealous.”
“So… you need any help unzipping or unbuttoning anything before we get started?”
Carrie picked up the camcorder and pointed it at me.
“This dress is staying on until we take it off tonight.”
“So I'm the one stripping?”
Carrie just nodded her head slightly.
“The door doesn't have a lock on it.”
“Hannah won't let anyone in.”
“What if she has to leave?”
“What if she has to use the bathroom?”
“I want to see that tux hit the floor. No more stalling.”
“I'm not stalling. It's just that's it's a little …weird…doing this. While everyone out there knows.”
“Was it weird when you thought I was the one getting defrocked?”
“Yes. This is better.”
“Do I have to?”
“No, but I want you to.”
Carrie just stood there smiling at me holding the camcorder down in front of her like it was a loaded weapon. Like she was an old west gunslinger facing down an unarmed man.
“You're just lucky I love you.” I kicked off my shoes and draped my jacket over the chair. Carrie lifted the camera to her face. I could see the red “record” light flash on.
Hannah better be right about this being the only copy.
The vest joined the jacket. I started to undue the dress shirt buttons as quickly as I could.
“Slow it down there, Speedy.” Carrie said. “This isn't about the destination, it's about the journey. Savor the moment. Smell the roses.”
I don't know about smelling or savoring anything, but I did slow down.
The dress shirt came off then the pants. My normal sized undershirt hung down on me like a nightshirt or a minidress. I pulled it over my head and stood there in nothing but my new boxer briefs and my pinned up socks.
“Lose the socks, keep the underwear.”
“Nice.” Carrie panned the camera up and down my body.
“Glad you like 'em.”
“Turn around. Slowly.”
I made a full turn making sure to move slowly. I felt like a piece of mouse meat being drooled over by a starving cat. But I also felt wanted and desired more than I'd ever been in my life. It was embarrassing, but arousing at the same time. A fact that was not lost on my bride.
“Looks like somebody's enjoying himself.” Carrie chuckled.
“So what do you want me to do now? Pose? Do jumping jacks?”
“Now I'm going to shrink you some more.”
“I didn't think you could do that yet.”
“But you can't control it.”
“I don't need control for what I'm about to do. Just the power.”
“I'm going to shrink you now; as small as you're ever going to get. Don't freak out on me, ok?”
How small was the smallest I was going to get? Action figure size? A couple inches? I should have been paying better attention during the courses. I was still navigating being four foot nothing, how bad would things be when I was closer to the nothing side of that number?
“I know this is pretty scary for you right now. You're being very brave.”
I didn't feel brave, but I loved Carrie and trusted her.
Carrie placed the camcorder on the tripod and carefully adjusted its position. She walked over to where I was standing making sure she wasn't blocking the shot.
“You're so beautiful.” She said, running her fingers through my hair. “I want to remember this moment forever.”
She leaned down close and kissed me quickly. Gently. At first I thought she'd pulled away, but when I opened my eyes she was still leaning over me unmoving, but getting further away.
I was shrinking away from her.
The floor slid under me. Carrie and the walls stretched higher and higher above me with every heartbeat. The boxer briefs that had been constricting a few heartbeats ago started to slip off my hips. I held them up by the waistband with both hands until I was too small to grip the heavy band. The
underwear and I puddled on the floor together. The only difference was that I was still melting.
The edges of the briefs piled up around me as I grew smaller. I made my way to the one piece of fabric that landed flat on the floor. The one place I could stand and not get drowned in a pile of sweaty cotton.
Of course it was the fly.
The pale grey fabric landed in walls around me too high for me to see over. When I looked up all I could see was Carrie looking down at me with an expression of joy and awe on her rapidly growing face. My bride getting larger, more magnificent, as I diminished before her.
“ohmygodohmygodohmygod” Carrie was bouncing up and down. Giddy. Her hands were doing that weird rapid half clap where the palms stay together and only the tips of the fingers meet.
Then it stopped.
It's impossible to describe what it feels like when the shrinking stops to someone who's never shrunk. The process of shrinking, the false sense of movement coupled with a feeling of melting, is easier to relate. But there's a sensation when the shrinking's over that only a tiny will ever be able to truly understand. There's a feeling like something has finally caught up with you. It's a little like taking an express elevator from the 10th floor to the basement; that moment when you reach the bottom and gravity catches up with momentum. Only different. Very different. The smaller you get the more powerful that feeling becomes.
Not that I could tell you any of that just then.
My head felt like it was made of bowling balls; my legs were rubber. I lurched forward managing to just get my hands in front of me before I collapsed. The soft cotton absorbed most of the force as I came down hard on my hands and knees.
“Are you alright?” Carrie's voice boomed above me louder than I was used to; not as loud as I was expecting.
“Are you lying?”
“Give the pills a minute to do their thing.”
I gave my head a couple minutes to settle before I even tried to look up again. Carrie was kneeling in her wedding dress staring down at me with a mixture of concern and godlike power. I made the mistake of trying to take her all in at once and felt the bowling balls coming back. I focused on just her eyes and my head started to clear.
Carrie reached down and rubbed the pad of her finger along my side. It was bigger than me. Everything was bigger than me. I tried to math out how small I was, but my head was still too bowling ball for that. I just knelt there, looking up into her eyes, taking comfort in her gentle petting.
I closed my eyes and let the pills do their thing.
“It's working. I think.” I said a little later. “At least I can talk good now.”
“Can you stand up for me?”
“I can try.”
“Let me help you.”
Carrie extended her pinky in front of me waist high. My waist. I crawled forward and pulled myself up. I held on until I was sure I had my balance.
“You are so tiny.” Carrie gushed. “I can't even feel you pulling on me.”
“This is it? This is as small as I'm ever gonna get?”
“I think so. I'm trying to shrink you more, but nothing's happening.”
“How small am I?”
Carrie put her hands flat on the ground one on top of the other pushing down that side of the underwear wall surrounding me. She rested her chin on the top hand and smiled down on me. My wife was kneeling on the floor, her head almost as low as it could go, and still her face towered over me.
“I was hoping for something a little more 'Bill Nye.'”
“Does my little man want me to measure him?”
There was something about the tone in her voice when Carrie called me her “little man.” A dominance that hadn't been there before; a power she was playing with. Or maybe it was always there, I just needed to dwindle down to notice.
“I'll size you up soon enough, little man, but first, we need to talk.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It's not.” Carrie gave me a delirious half smile.
“Remember all the talks we had? About how things were going to be once we were married? How the size thing was going to work?”
“Having the power feels a lot different than imagining it.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“That means that you're a tiny naked man standing on the fly of his own dirty underwear. Because I made it happen. Because you couldn't stop me. Do you have any idea what that makes me?”
“Hornier than I've ever been in my entire life.”
“I'd show you, but as small as you are you'd probably drown.”
“So me being …”
“ … Stripped. Shrunk. Helpless.”
“So me being helpless gets you off?”
“Hey, I'm not the only one perving on the situation. I see the little shiver you make whenever I talk down to you. That look on your face when I put on the Daddy pants and order you around. The way you twitched when I called you my little man. Maybe you had an ulterior motive when you insisted on getting the short end of the marriage.”
“Honestly I … no.”
“It doesn't matter. What matters is what we do now.”
“What'd you have in mind?”
“We have twenty minutes before Hannah's gonna be knocking on that door. Just enough time to explore this flavor of domination a little further.”
“I left my whips and chains in my other suit.”
“Silly, I don't need any of those to show you who's in charge.”
Carrie pulled her hand out from under her chin and brought it over to me. I thought she was going to grab me. She could have fit two of me in her palm and there'd still be room for dancing. I went stiff in anticipation of being picked up, but all Carrie did was turn her hand palm side up and extend her pinky into my groin.
“And what exactly did you want me to measure, little boy?”
Carrie pressed forward parting my legs enough to give her gigantic finger access. My penis was trapped between her fingertip and my stomach. My testicles bounced uselessly between my thighs and Carrie's fingernail.
“My … my … how big I am.”
Arousal and shrinking sickness were making it harder in every sense of the word. I don't know how much I owed my erection to Carrie's firm touch or how she had so casually demoted me from little man to little boy. I know that I throbbed into her when she called me that. I hoped she didn't notice.
“Any special parts?” Carrie barely had to move her finger to rub the full length of my tiny erection.
“ah … my … I'd like you … I …”
“What's the matter, cat got your cock? That's ok, I think I know what you're trying to tell me, little boy. You want to know how big you are 'down there,' don't you? Little boys are just so obsessed with how big their manhoods are, aren't they?”
“No. I …”
“I'm sorry, but I don't have a tape measure that small.”
I wanted to say something, but Carrie ran her finger back down again. Words weren't happening.
“I can't even see it with my big ol' pinky in the way.”
“I just want to know how big I am.” I spoke quickly, forcing the words out.
“And I'm telling you I just can't. I don't even know if I'm even touching it. I'm sure I'd feel it if I did, I mean it kinda defines you, doesn't it?”
“I didn't mean my …”
“Are you even hard?”
“Really? Cause I seriously couldn't tell. Maybe I just have a bad angle. Let me just …”
Carrie started rubbing her finger slowly over my trapped member. I could feel the ridge of each swirl of her fingerprint as it moved along the sensitive head. I throbbed into her, but she still didn't seem to notice.
Carrie took her finger away. Tiny drops of my pre-cum so small only I could see them glistened as the light hit her finger. Carrie tilted her head to the side and studied me with the indifferent air of a Roman Emperor selecting a slave for her bed or a lobster for the pot.
“We can do better, can't we, little man?”
Carrie dipped the tip of her pinky onto her tongue. Was there even enough of me there for her to taste? I doubted it. I could explode right into her mouth and she probably wouldn't even notice.
“Let's try again.”
This time Carrie's pinky was wet when she placed it against my straining cock. Her hot spit coated
my shaft and balls and matted my pubic hair.
“Do you want to be my good boy?” Carrie started rubbing me again.
“Good boys do exactly what Carrie tells them to do. Good boys are polite and pretty and they always ALWAYS try to please me. Now tell me, are you polite, little man?”
“Are you pretty?”
“If you think I am.”
“Smart boy. Do you want to please me?"
“More than anything.”
Carrie's finger stopped.
“Stand up straight for Carrie.” Carrie ordered.
I let my hands fall to my sides and stretched myself out to my full height. As much of my full height as Carrie allowed me to have. Not because I still wanted to know how many inches I was, but because Carrie wanted me to.
“Good boy.” Carrie spoke like she was talking to a pet who'd impressed her with a new trick.
Hearing those words filled me with a sense of almost childlike pride. I was nothing before her. I could do nothing to her or for her. But I had pleased her. I was Carrie's little man and I had pleased her and that was enough.
“Now don't move a hair.” Carrie took her pinky away.
My erection dipped forward no longer supported by Carrie's casual strength. My crotch and thighs were damp from the drop of her spit she had rubbed on me. I wanted to take myself in hand and pump until I had to stop, using her gift as my lube. I wanted her to see me explode. I needed her to acknowledge the manhood between my legs.
But that wouldn't please her.
So I forced my hands to stay where they were and kept my back straight.
Those two words felt better than my hand on my dick ever could.
Carrie planted her forefinger behind me like a stake I was being tied to and lined it carefully against my spine.
“Still want to know how you measure up, little man?”
“ … yes.” I was having trouble finding my voice.
“You are … exactly … two knuckles tall.”
Carrie ran the tip of her finger over my butt in a circle. I was still aching for relief, but her touch felt good. She dipped her hand down and tripped me into her open hand. I landed on my hands on knees on her strong palm.
I was raised into the air while Carrie shifted into a sitting position. Once settled she held me close to her face and just stared at me. Every piece of me was exposed to her. She could see it all. I couldn't even take in all of her face at one time.
Carrie leaned in close and planted a kiss on my naked chest. I could feel just the tip of her tongue dart out and lap both my nipples at the same time. When she pulled away there were two red lines where her lipstick had smeared on my chest. It hadn't left the imprint of a full set of lips; my torso wasn't large enough for that.
Carrie pulled me back far enough for us to see each other again.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
It took me a minute to realize the game was over. It took me longer to convince myself it was a game.
“That was intense.” I finally said.
“It looks like you enjoyed that as much as I did.” Carrie was staring straight at my crotch.
“You … got off to that?” I pulled my legs together and covered myself with a hand.
“If I'da known this was gonna happen we wouldn't have needed to book that honeymoon tour; cause I've got Niagara Falls going on under this dress.”
“Just from ordering me around?”
“What about my … you know?”
“I wasn't sure how you'd react to that, but you went from zero to subspace as soon as I started in on your little guy.” Carrie started laughing. “Maybe I should call it my little man's little man.”
“And it doesn't bug you that I'm so small? Down there?”
“Your dick is absolutely the perfect size, because it will always be the size I want it to be, Knuckles.”
“You're not going to start calling me that, are you?”
Carrie looked up thoughtfully.
“Jury's still out on that. You're not on the jury so I'll let you know when the verdict gets handed down.”
“Was any of this caused by the magic? I mean other than me being two knuckles tall.”
“You mean all the dirty domme stuff?”
“No. That was all us.”
“Yeah. It's just … Is this how it's gonna be from now on?”
“I liked feeling the way I felt back there.” Carrie ran a giant finger under my chin. “I want to see where this leads.”
“Me too.” I ran my hand over her finger, back and forth as far as I could reach.
“So sometimes it'll be like that. Intense and sexy and demanding. Sometimes it'll be boring stuff like bills and laundry. Sometimes I'll tell you to do things that aren't sexy or you won't want to do.”
“What happens then?”
“You'll do them.” There was no doubt in her voice.
“Can we just skip right to the honeymoon? … I'm beyond ready.”
“Very tempting, but no.”
“The first of the things I don't want to do?” I asked.
“The first of many.” Carrie pulled me in close to her with one hand while she used the other to pull herself up on the chair. “Now I need to get you ready for cake.”
“You are so tiny!”