Crawling out of your bed/sock naked, you scratch yourself and yawn. You find that the doll clothes that make up your wardrobe are too scratchy to sleep in so you always sleep naked. You walk towards a pile of freshly bought dolls clothes that your older sister bought and get dressed. Using a rubber band as a belt, you put your pants on and slide on your shirt. There’s no good underwear out their for someone of your size, so you always go commando. You climb down the ladder connecting your sleeping area to the floor and stroll towards the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs wafts towards you, making your stomach rumble. Even if you have the taste of feet in your mouth from last nigh, you still have a huge appetite to satisfy. Your walk to the kitchen takes five minutes, considering that the living room is connected to the kitchen and your size, you’re making great time. The carpeted floor ends and you find the cold tile floor against your feet. The dinning room table stands high above you, with three chairs surrounding it and two filled by your family. You turn to the middle chair where your mom sits and avoid making eye contact with the other chair.
Stopping at your mom’s chair, you take a deep breath and yell out, “Down here mom!” Hearing her middle child’s tiny voice, she looks down towards you and smiles brightly. Like a thousand mornings before, her hand drops to the ground and you step onto her palm. The sensation of air passing by you occurs as your carried up and placed on the edge of the table. Throwing you mom a nod of gratitude, you leisurely walk over to a small squire between where your mother and sister sit. There a small thimble sits where you drink from and a shiny dime that you use as a plate. You tried to eat breakfast on a normal plate once and your mother accidentally forgot you were on it and dumped it in the sink. You were floating around in soapy water all day before someone found you. Since then, you don’t mind using tiny objects to eat off of.
You take your seat at the table and give a brief glance at your youngest sister, tulip. She flashes you a cruel smile and you look away. She’s probably trying to think of a new way to make your life miserable. Your other sister steps into the kitchen with a two pans of freshly made eggs and bacon. Tulip and your mom eye the plates hungrily, it seems you’re not the only one with a monstrous hunger. Everyone is severed but you, Usually ether your mom or older sister give you small crumbs from their meal to eat because most of the food that is served is bigger then you. Your older sister joins you at the table and everyone digs in. While you wait for someone to serve you breakfast, you look around the table at all of your family.
You’re mom is a beautiful, blond bombshell, that has every hot blooded guy in town drooling over. Long legs, shapely butt, and easily DD-cup breasts, even you from time to time lust after her. Although she’s got an A+ body, her mind falls more into the C- category. She’s not stupid per se, just a little ditzy and oblivious. Most of the time, she acts more like a close, flirtatious friend then a mother. Her playful outlook has left you confused and frustrated. Not many mothers ask their sons to help clean their teeth or help them shave their bikini area. You know she’s your mother and all, but sometimes you want to just gawk at her hooters and give a wolf whistle. If you ever did that she would probably thank you for the compliment.
While your mom is all play, your older sister, Tracy, is more into work. With your mother being so reckless, Tracy has had to handle a lot of things around the house. Washing, cleaning, laundry, cooking and even driving is all handled by your sister. She’s a stickler for perfection and wants everyone to do there part around the house. Frequently, you offer to help clean all those hard to reach places that the vacuum can’t reach. We must have the cleanest floors in the whole town. Tracy tries to take care of you and help you whenever you need it, sometimes her constant nit picking gets on her nerves, but you always remind yourself that at least she’s not Tulip.
Tulip, the eight-year-old menace, the midget she-devil, the plague on your tiny existence, you’re little sister. To her, you are the family toy, to be used in any perverted way imaginable. What, you have an itch on your butt? Use Steve to scratch it. What, your throat hurts? Get Steve to poke his head down your throat to check. You say that your bored? Well then, Steve will be the perfect toy for you to play with. That was Tulips attitude. No matter how many times she’s told you aren’t a toy by your mother or sister, still sticks your head up her butt and giggles as you struggle. You’ve seen more of her body then you ever wanted to. You don’t know why she gets such a kick out of seeing you suffer, maybe it has something to do with getting payback for all the attention you get from mom and Tracy, or maybe she’s just evil. Whatever the reason is, the only thing keeping tulip from turning you into her perverted doll is the rest of the family. They protect you from Tulips sick games, but when they aren’t around, look out.
Still, you have no food on in front of you. Glancing up at mom, she is scarfing down her third slice of bacon and has yet to even notice you. The same can be said about Tracy, who is still drowsy from last nights dancing and looks pretty out of it. You look Tulip and then turn away; she’ll only give you food if it can used as bait. The last thing she gave to you anything to eat, it was attached to a string and when you grabbed it, she pulled you towards her. It looks like no one is going to feed you, so you do something about it.
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
More by this author