Insignificant (Story of Macrophilia)

Reminder for readers: this story is based on the unique fetish of macrophilia/microphilia, which consists of the excitement produced by interactions (obviously, only in imagination) between people with extreme size differences, giants (several meters tall) or tiny people (less than 20 cm or similar). Please, do not continue reading if this topic does not interest you or causes you certain curiosity. I know it is something that is not for all audiences.

INSIGNIFICANT

The world had completely changed. After the pandemic and the economic disaster, my country had become a dictatorship, and civil rights had been drastically reduced. The worst part, however, had been borne by gay men. While lesbians were tolerated, gay men had been considered "enemies of the state," and a fierce persecution had begun. At first, they were simply detained and taken to prison; however, then a further step was taken: they were stripped of all their rights as individuals and it became common for them to be declared slaves and to become mere property of someone, usually the person who had reported them.

Thus several years passed. However, even in such a degraded society, many "owners" of gay men found it difficult to see them completely dehumanized, and this caused problems until the state found a solution to this. Scientists had developed technology that allowed people to be shrunk down in size, and it was decreed that all homosexuals were to be reduced to the size of a toy and handed over in this way to those who would become their owners, who would thus find it much easier to consider them a mere possession, like owning a doll or a pet. Most of the gays shrunk this way ended up crushed between the unconscious fingers of a child, eaten by dogs or cats, or simply crushed under the feet of their owners when they grew tired of having them.

That night I was at home terrified. Until then, I had more or less managed to keep my homosexuality a secret, but in the last few weeks, a couple of reckless dates had put me in the police's crosshairs. They had been asking questions about me at work, and I was sure that the noose was tightening. The thought of being detained in a matter of days or even hours, shrunk to a tiny size and handed over to a stranger to do whatever they wanted with me gripped me.

In my frantic thinking, I didn’t know who to turn to. My parents had died in a car accident a few months ago, and I had no other family or really friends. My thoughts flew to my godfather, Fernando, a good friend of my father's. I remembered him as a very friendly man who had always treated me very well when I was a child. It was true that we had lost almost all of our relationship over many years; however, I had seen him recently at my parents' funeral, and I had felt him very concerned about me and as close as I remembered. In fact, he had left me his phone number to call him when I needed.

I wasn’t very convinced, but I saw no ...