Some women like shorter men, some don’t have a choice.

Author's note: This chapter deals with some kinks I don't personally have. I consulted with a couple people about the content, but as everyone experiences kink differently, constructive or positive feedback is always appreciated.

My boyfriend Darryn met me outside Johnson Hall after my last class of the day.

I liked Johnson Hall because the lecture chambers had tiered seating, so I could sit in the front row without feeling bad for the people behind me. I learned better when I was close to the front, but in the smaller classrooms I often kept to the back or sides to avoid blocking someone’s view. I wasn’t the tallest in my family, but at 6’4”, I was often the tallest person in the room. It made me self conscious.

I felt a twinge of that self consciousness as Darryn hugged me hello, my chin almost resting on his head. He wasn’t a short guy by most standards, around 5’9” as far as I could tell, but the difference was hard to ignore.

“Hey baby,” Darryn said, his deep voice rumbling against my chest. “How was class?”

We released the hug and he smiled up at me, dimples forming on his stubbly cheeks. His height aside, he was a hunk.

“It was okay. Professor Cruz is going to let me turn in that paper I missed during the away game, and we’re starting a new unit on Descartes next week that I’m really looking forward to,” I said.

We turned to walk down the path towards the campus gates. Darryn was also a student, so he couldn’t afford to take me out to eat too often, but we made sure to grab dinner together at least once a week. Between our different game and practice schedules, we didn’t often have time for couple’s activities.

“Descartes is that French guy, yeah babe?” Darryn asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, he said the thing about I think, therefore I am. We have to cover all the stuff leading up to the Enlightenment before we can get into the good stuff, but some of these European philosophers are boring as shit. At least we’ve moved on from Neostoicism. I wish I didn’t have to take survey courses.”

As we passed the library, we had to move to one side of the path to avoid a lumbering herd of frat guys. I recognized a couple of them from the men’s basketball team. They always made a mess of the weight room.

One of the frat guys clocked me and whistled. “Damn girl, what are they feeding you?”

A different frat guy grabbed one of his shorter friends and put him in a headlock. “Hey Zinski, maybe you should ask this chick how to grow a few, huh?”

The shorter guy, Zinski or whatever, fought to get out of the headlock. “Fuck off, Lance. You’re the same fucking height as her. She ain’t that tall.”

“Yeah, but chicks ain’t supposed to get that big, fam. She must know the secret,” Lance said.

A fourth guy saw Darryn holding my hand and laughed. “Hey, she has a thing for little guys! Zinski, go get her number!”

Before I could stop him, Darryn stepped between me and the frat guys. “Hey, fuck off, asshat. Don’t talk shit.”

Lance let go of Zinski and stepped up to Darryn. He was around my height, and he made Darryn look tiny. For a moment, I couldn’t shake the horrible thought that I made Darryn look tiny, too. Lance poked him in the chest. “The fuck you say, shortstack?”

“Darryn, don’t…” I tried to say, but he had already clenched his fists and I could see him preparing to swing at the larger man.

“Keep running your mouth, motherfucker, and we’ll see who’s a shortstack,” he was saying. Lance didn’t look intimidated.

I stepped in between the two idiots and put my hand on Darryn’s chest. “That’s enough. Leave it alone.”

“He started it, babe.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want a fight. Leave. It. Alone.” I tried to sound as commanding as possible. Darryn held my gaze, nodded, and turned away from the frat guys.

Lance, like an asshole with a quota, fired off one last jab. “Yeah, big boy. Listen to Mommy.”

Darryn whirled back to face the group. “The FUCK did you say?”

I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him up the path. He struggled, but I was stronger. “Darryn. Enough. Let it go.”

The assholes laughed at us as I dragged my boyfriend away. A guy standing on the library steps raised an eyebrow at me as we passed, probably having overheard the whole thing, and I rolled my eyes at him. I was tired of attracting attention.

I dragged Darryn to a bench and sat him down at one end, then sat to face him. He had the decency to look chagrined. I glared. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I can’t let some assholes just insult you and move on. That’s not right.”

“Fuck off with that chivalry horseshit,” I snapped. “They didn’t insult me at all. Don’t make this my issue.”

“They said you’re hot for short guys!” he said it like it was obvious.

The strange guy on the steps was still watching us. I decided to ignore him.

“That’s not an insult for me. I don’t care what they think. That’s an insult for you. If you’re going to fight anyone that points out our height difference, then I can’t date you. I can’t deal with that shit.”

Darryn looked at me sullenly. For such a well groomed, muscular, bearded man, it was an oddly childish expression. “I… yeah, I can’t argue that. That was my own shit acting up.”

I reached out my hand and he took it. “I really like you,” I began, “but if dating me makes you feel insecure, then this isn’t sustainable.”

“I’m not insecure, babe,” he said.

My tongue started tingling, and I heard myself say “Be honest.” I hadn’t intended to say that.

Darryn sighed. “I guess, yeah, I don’t know. I know I said I was okay dating someone taller than me, but maybe I hadn’t thought it through.

My mouth moved on its own again. I tried to stop it, but I felt frozen in place, trapped in my own body. “Be honest.”

Darryn looked confused for a moment, then spoke again. “I’m a little insecure about it, but I really enjoy dating someone taller than me.”

I strained with all my might, but my mouth refused to obey. “Be honest.”

Darryn’s eyes looked a bit panicked, but his body language remained unchanged. “I like feeling insecure, and I love how much taller than me you are. I love feeling small in your arms.”

“Be honest,” I said again.

“I’m dating you because you’re taller than me. I’m insecure about our height difference and that makes me horny. I get off on feeling small and weak next to my tall, strong girlfriend.”

I frowned, or at least I tried to. I knew that wasn’t true. We’d been dating for months and nothing of the sort had ever come up. I specifically steered clear of men who seemed a little too interested in my height.

Except… now that I was thinking about it, I could almost remember a different relationship. It was like I had an alternate version of events in my mind. When we first met at a team sports mixer, I’d been the one who’d started flirting with him, but I also remembered him walking up to me and trying some dumb pick up line about my height. I knew that wasn’t true because it would never work on me, but it felt almost as real as the reality. When we hooked up, it was always pretty equal between us, except now I had memories of picking him up and using my strength to take what I wanted. I’d never done any of that.

Darryn asked me the next question. “How do you feel about our height difference?”

“I don’t care.” I still wasn’t in control of my mouth, but it’s probably what I would have said anyway. “Most guys I’ve dated have been shorter than me. It’s just… I’m secure in myself, and I expect the same from a partner.”

“Be honest,” Darryn said, and I felt that tingling in my mouth again.

“I’m insecure about my height and how much attention it draws. I’m insecure about how much space I take up. I’m not insecure about being taller than my boyfriend, but I can’t stand the way other people look closer at me because of it.”

I hadn’t meant to say any of that, but… shit, it was all true. I couldn’t have said it any more honestly than that.

Except then Darryn repeated “Be honest,” and my mouth started moving again.

“I’m a little insecure about the attention it draws, but I love dating shorter guys. I guess I do have a thing for men smaller than me.”

That wasn’t true. That had never been true. But as I said it, I felt my older memories fade a bit and the new ones become a bit more vibrant, a bit more real. It wasn’t true, was it?

“Be honest.”

“I love the attention. I’m tall and everyone can see it, and when I’m with a short king I look even taller. It makes me feel powerful, and it’s fun to see everyone react like I’m some amazon.”

The memories were getting blurrier, harder to discern. I knew it wasn’t true, but my confidence was shaken. It was starting to feel true.

“Be honest.”

“I get off on being tall, strong, and in charge. I date short men who will worship me like a goddess because it’s what I deserve. I’m so much more than you and I like it like that. I date you because I can pick you up and throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s what I deserve.”

The old memories were barely a whisper now. This new reality was settling around me like a fog, obscuring anything that contradicted it, and I was beginning to doubt myself.

Which was ridiculous. I was a Goddess. I was beyond doubt.

I felt my body sit taller in my seat. My tshirt went taught as my shoulders set, then began to stretch as my torso broadened. The hemline began to rise up my stomach as I gained height, going from well below my waist to sitting on my hips. I felt my pant legs slide up as my calves lengthened, then grow tight against my swelling muscles. My pants dug into my ass and I heard seams pop. The straps of my bralette dug into my back and my toes scrunched inside my sneakers as my clothes suddenly became too small.

I stood up of my own free will as the changes coursed through me. My baggy jeans now looked like leggings around my thighs, each of which were as thick as a tree trunk and just as dense. The hemline of my tshirt continued to rise up my stomach, revealing superheroine abs and obliques. The shirt stretched from almost a crop top to an obscene parody of a sports bra as my bralette snapped and two massive breasts spilled forward, far larger than the B cup I’d been only moments ago. My nipples tented the straining fabric.

I didn’t know how tall I was now, but it was easily over 7 feet. My clothing was tearing off of me as I hulked into the Goddess I always knew I was.

I looked down at Darryn, and I realized I really had to look down now. He’d lost half a foot of height, maybe more, though my frame of reference was off. His jacket hung off of him like a bathrobe. As I watched, his beard shortened and lightened until it vanished into his face, which was now smooth and hairless. His face looked softer, rounder, and I noticed that he’d lost that muscular definition I’d used to love.

Good. No groveling pet of mine should even pretend at being strong, not when I enjoyed their weakness so much.

I paused, suddenly dizzy. That wasn’t my thought. I hadn’t wanted… I didn’t want him to be weak… or did I? I didn’t know what was real or not anymore. This all felt real, but what did that mean.

My hair snapped out of its ponytail and lengthened down to my waist, exploding in volume and color, and suddenly it all clicked for me.

Those old memories were nothing, just a dream I had once. This was the way it had always been. I was the tallest in my family, and I had reveled in it from a young age. When I got old enough, I started to demand attention from boys, and if they were lucky enough to draw my eye, I made them worship me. I deserved it. These small men, with their soft bodies and cute, adoring mannerisms, they made me feel like the Goddess I deserved to be. This was the truth. This was real.

“Come here, pet,” I said, grabbing the man by the arm. I’d forgotten his name, but it didn’t matter. There were plenty of men just like him ready to worship in his place the moment he displeased me.

“Yes, Goddess,” he said, his voice light, soft, and obsequious.

I tore those silly oversized clothes off of him and removed my own with a bit more care. This pet may have been short, but he had a nice thick cock, and I couldn’t wait to get it in me. I laid down on the bench and lifted him on top of me, spreading my legs and holding him so his cock was over my entrance, then pulled him into me. He moaned “yes Goddess thank you Goddess yes Goddess” over and over again as I used him like a sex toy, as though he was just a dildo with a man-shaped base. I deserved this.

As I felt my first orgasm of the evening wash over me, the fog of lust that was clouding my mind lifted for a moment, and I realized I’d gotten so horny that I’d just started fucking my pet in the middle of campus. That was odd, I usually had better self control than…

I blinked. This wasn’t too odd. When I got horny, there was very little that could keep me from my satisfaction, and even if I got busted again, I had those spineless idiots on the disciplinary board already fully enthralled. They would do anything for me just for the chance to worship at my feet.

Not that there was anyone around to report me. The library steps were deserted except for that strange guy that was watching us earlier. He was a little taller than I liked, but maybe I could get him to massage my tits while I played with the pet between my legs.

“You.” I used my most commanding tone. “Come here and worship my breasts while I enjoy my toy.”

The toy whimpered in disappointment that he wouldn’t be the one to worship my tits, but he knew better than to argue. The stranger raised an eyebrow and strolled over, and I could tell he was too strong willed to give in that easily. That was good, I liked a challenge.

“Well?” I asked, hefting my massive jugs at him. “Obey me and I’ll reward you with the honor of touching yourself in my presence.”

He looked at me in a way very few had ever dared, as though I held no influence over him, and I felt a twinge of apprehension. “Too far, I think,” he said, and I had no idea what he meant. “Let’s reign you in a little.”

“How dare you! I am a Goddess…” I began, but I trailed off as I felt some of the strength leave my body. The pet I’d been fucking suddenly became too heavy for me to lift one handed, and he collapsed onto me. I felt the bench grind against my back as my torso shrank, my massive muscles softening and disappearing under supple flesh and fat. I was still strong, far above average, but the superhuman height and definition I cherished was being replaced by the far more attainable strength of a powerlifter. I was probably under 7’ tall now, still quite tall but no longer the statuesque figure I expected to be.

“No, no, no!” I cried. “I was a… I mean, I need to be a Goddess. I need to be worshipped.” I shoved my pet off of me and grasped the stranger’s hand. “Please! Turn me back! I don’t know how you did this, but I need to be the tallest and the strongest and the sexiest! I need to be worshipped. Please.”

The energy left me as I began to question my very identity. If I couldn’t be a goddess, what was I?

The stranger smirked. He began to spin a finger in the air as though he was tracing invisible lines. “Don’t worry,” he said, and for no reason I could tell, the tone of his voice caused me to feel genuine fear. “I think I have the perfect shape for you.”

I opened my mouth to ask what he meant by that when my lips suddenly refused to cooperate. I was frozen in place, sitting naked on the bench with my mouth gaping open, and my world was being remade.

It was like I had two sets of memories. I could remember being the tallest woman in any room, a Goddess that had used men for pleasure and praise and validation, flirting and fucking her way out of consequences, and I knew those memories were real. At the same time, I could also remember being only a bit taller than average, and instead of demanding worship, I had always been the first to care for and support others. I didn’t have to flirt and fuck to get what I wanted, I made others want to do what I said through kindness and attention.

The first new physical change I noticed was my long hair receding until it barely reached my shoulder blades, then pulling itself into a large messy bun. Next, my hips widened and softened, giving me a figure that I could only describe as ideal for child birthing. My muscles faded even further, and an adorable bit of pudge circled my tapered waist and thighs. My massive tits shrunk a bit, but the real change was in their shape, no longer pristine and pert but soft and pliable, with large areola and perfect nipples.

The soles of my feet began to itch as my skin toughened, and I suddenly became confident that I would be just as comfortable barefoot as I would be in any shoe.

The pile of my discarded clothes flashed and vanished, and I felt them reappear on my body, but they had changed. The jeans were tight around my hips and ass then relaxed in the leg, the material was softer and more flexible, and they smelled of fabric softener. My sneakers had become strappy lightweight sandals. The old comfy tshirt was now a long sleeved wrap blouse with an oddly stretchy material that cloyed to my chest, bulging out in a way that was hardly indecent but somehow still obscene.

There was a sudden constricting feeling around my chest and a sturdy bra formed, reducing the shirt’s obscenity a bit, then tightened and pushed my soft tits up and together to form a valley of cleavage.

“What? I… I don’t understand.” I said. I’d never worn clothes like this before, but they felt far more natural than any of the tight muscle shirts and sports leggings I’d always worn. I was beginning to forget what it had been like to be a giant, worshippable beauty. “What are you turning me into?”

The stranger smiled. “I don’t think you’ll be very insecure about your height anymore.” He turned to look at the man I’d been fucking. “After all, you’ll have other things on your mind.”

The naked man, whose name I now remembered was Darryn, looked unchanged from a moment ago, still fresh faced, slender, and much shorter than me. He was looking back and forth from me to the stranger, eyes wide.

“Do you remember that fight?” the stranger asked.

“Sort of.” Darryn frowned. “It’s a bit blurry.”

“The other guy told you to listen to your Mommy and you flipped out. Do you know why that pissed you off so much?”

“I don’t know.”

The stranger leaned in close. “It’s because you desperately want to call your girlfriend Mommy. Mommy play is your biggest kink, and you got really anxious that you’d reveal something in how you reacted.” The stranger gestured to me. “It’s why you’re dating such a tall, matronly woman. You’ve just been too scared to ask her.”

He stood up straight as Darryn blinked in surprise. The stranger turned back to me.

“It’s ridiculous that he hasn’t asked you yet. You love being called Mommy, you love taking good care of small, submissive men, and you even lactate when you get horny. You’re the ideal kinky Mommy, aren’t you?” he asked.

I felt myself nodding before the words had fully washed over me. Everything he’d said was true. The memories of being a Goddess faded from my mind as my own mental image became more motherly and caring, still worthy of worship and praise, but much more soft and gentle.

I recognized that the odd sturdy bra and stretchy blouse were nursing clothes. Of course I was Darryn’s Mommy, I dressed the part every day. How foolish of me to think otherwise.

Darryn looked at me with his big, adorable eyes and soft face. He was such a soft, sweet man, so small in my arms. He reached out to me. “I’m sorry for fighting, Mommy.”

“Come here, sweetie.” I said, gathering him into my arms. His head was at the perfect height to bury in to my chest, and I felt a pang from my nipples in anticipation. I would need to nurse soon. “You were very naughty, so I’ll have to spank you later. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mommy, I understand. I’ve been a bad boy. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can make you into a good boy again. Here, this’ll cheer you up.” I pulled the blouse down to expose one tit, then undid the clasp on the bra cup. I shoved my swollen tit into his mouth and he began suckling.

I looked back at the stranger, who was still leering at us. “Can I help you?” I asked.

“No, thank you. I think I’ve done what I can here. Enjoy.”

He winked at me, and walked away towards the dining halls. I patted Darryn on the head as he drank hungrily.

“You keep that up, and Mommy might have to drag you into the bushes and ride you till she’s happy. Would you like that?”

He moaned his consent and I stood up, dragging him to a secluded spot. I always got so horny when my tits were worshipped.