Francie 1844-332-2639 xXx 208
He’s been bad. My little miniature man. He’s about the size of my pinkie nail. You would think a boy that small would be no problem at all, but he hasn’t accepted his fate as my tiny, shrunken plaything. He keeps trying to escape and run away from me. Honestly, it makes me more sad than mad. I love him, and he’s mine. I’m going to keep him, and the sooner he embraces his fate and loves me back, the better we’ll get along.
I can not tolerate his behavior, though, so I’m putting him on bra duty punishment until he comes around. His punishment is all prepped, my comfortable front-clasping bra is laid out on the dining room table. The clasp in it had broken a while back, but I saved the bra, knowing I’d have a purpose for it someday. My tiny plaything is in a glass vial, pounding away at the wall and screaming at a useless pitch my ears can’t detect because of his size. All I need now is the super glue.
