Angry Daughter (short story)

Hi all,

These past couple weeks I found time here and there to render and write this short story. Enjoy and have a good weekend! Hope everyone is doing well!

Scene 1:

The ceiling lighting lit the surface of the wood-surfaced coffee table, the dollhouse perched atop it. The dollhouse, although a toy for children, was the "Home Sweet Home" of Jasmine Thompson, a forty-year-old mother who had once stood towering at 5'11". But that was before the accident several days ago...

Now, Jasmine was a mere 8" tall, her proportions perfectly scaled down as if she had been hit by a shrink ray in the latest made-for-tv Sci-fi flick. She was taller than a polly pocket, yet shorter than a barbie. Her new size was a constant reminder of the dangers she faced living in a world not made for her. A world where once innocuous entities now posed dangerous, if not lethal, threats. A wooden floor could be a tripping hazard from her tiny foot slipping between the gaps, a fall from the couch could become a devastating injury, or worse, a misstep by her daughter, Cadee, who was now a giantess in her eyes, could be lethal.

Jasmine was standing on the third-floor balcony of her dollhouse. She looked out, her eyes scanning the world from her higher-than-usual vantage point. She was clad in a green sundress, adorned with delicate flowers, a dress that had once belonged to a doll. Doll clothes lacked the essentials: underwear, bras, socks. This made her feel a bit exposed, but it was the best she could do. The shoes were uncomfortable, made of rigid plastic, prompting Jasmine to prefer the barefoot experience.

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she spotted movement. It was Cadee, her 18-year-old daughter, who was coming into the living room. From Jasmine's perspective, Cadee was gargantuan, a behemoth of a young woman who stood at a towering 5’6”. Her size was intimidating, her footsteps causing the coffee table and dollhouse to shudder under Jasmine's minuscule feet. To Jasmine, her daughter's foot was as large as her entire body, her hand could easily envelop her, and her voice, once soft and comforting, now rumbled like thunder. Even at her high perch, she was still only level with her daughter's chest.

Cadee was on her cellphone, oblivious to her mother's scrutinizing gaze. Jasmine couldn't help but gasp at the audacity of Cadee's attire. She wore a tight, short crop top that clung to her chest and bared her whole midriff, a pink miniskirt that was much too short for any mother's liking, and towering black heels that added an extra few inches to her already imposing height. The sight was a mother's nightmare. Seeing the belly button piercing and nose stud that she let her get a couple years ago, after Cadee begged her, made her wonder if that decision caused such a change in Cadee's behavior over such a short amount of time.

"Cadee!" Jasmine called, her voice high and squeaky, yet filled with maternal authority. But Cadee, in her teenage rebellion, chose to dismiss the squeaky cries as mere annoyance. She rolled her eyes, continuing on her phone, chuckling at something her friend posted on the latest social media app. To her, Jasmine's miniature form was a source of amusement, a novelty that had been growing ever since.

Jasmine felt a pang of helplessness. Here she was, a mother unable to guide her own daughter, her size and stature reducing her voice to mere squeaks. But she couldn't sit idle, not when her daughter was about to step out into the world dressed like THAT.

With a steely determination, Jasmine turned, dashing back into the dollhouse from the balcony. She scampered down the steps to the second, then first floor, her little feet pattering against the plastic staircase. She made it to the tiny ladder that led to the floor, her heart pounding in her chest as she began her descent. Her eyes never left the sight of Cadee, who was now walking towards the door, her body swaying with each step, her laughter filling the room as she texted her friend.

Scene 2:

Jasmine landed on the carpeted rug, her tiny feet barely making a dent in the plush material as she chased after her daughter. Quickly, the floor transitioned to a cold laminate, slick under her feet. From her perspective on the floor, the room had transformed into an expansive, treacherous terrain. Each step Cadee took seemed to cover a distance that would take Jasmine several seconds to traverse in a sprint; the difference in their strides was that significant.

As Jasmine ran, Cadee continued to slowly walk towards the door, completely unaware of her mother's frantic efforts. Despite her brisk pace, Jasmine's progress was slow, each of her strides only a fraction of Cadee's casual steps. As she looked up towards her daughter ahead, the sheer scale of her was a sight Jasmine hadn't got accustomed to yet, and she wondered if she ever would. The young woman who was once several inches shorter than herself was now a behemoth that could easily crush her underfoot.

From her vantage point, Jasmine could see that Cadee's skirt was so short that it barely covered her bottom, revealing more skin than any mother would ever want their daughter to do. She knew her perspective was playing a role in the reveal, but it was still too short in her eyes. The fact that Cadee was about to step out in public dressed this way horrified Jasmine.

Scene 3:

As Jasmine got closer, her perspective shifted further, revealing far more of Cadee's attire than she would ever want to see.

With each step, the skirt inched higher, revealing part of Cadee's pert cheeks. Jasmine felt her heart sink, her motherly instincts screaming. The sight was concerning. As she darted closer, her eyes widened in further disbelief. Beneath the scandalously short skirt, Cadee was wearing black, nearly thong-style, panties.

Jasmine stood behind Cadee, her head barely reaching the tops of her daughter's heels. She looked up, her eyes taking in the sight under the skirt. It was an uncomfortable perspective, an intimate view of her daughter that she was not supposed to have. She pressed her tiny hands into her face, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and concern.

Throwing her hands up to her face in disbelief, she screamed, her voice reaching a pitch that was more a squeak than a yell. "Cadee Thompson!" she cried. "What on earth are you wearing???"

Cadee spun around at her mother's squeaky voice, her face contorted in a mix of annoyance and anger. The sudden movement caused a gust of wind that hit Jasmine, almost making her stagger back. The towering young woman glared down at her tiny mother, a menacing sight that spoke volumes of the power Cadee held physically.

But for Jasmine, standing at her towering daughter's feet, this was a titanic clash, a battle of wills where size was everything. Jasmine could feel the tension in the air, the sense of power that Cadee wielded over her. The stakes were high, and Jasmine had a daunting challenge ahead.

Scene 4:

The air between them crackled with tension as Cadee's eyes narrowed, a sneer curling at the corners of her lips. "Oh, please, what's it to you?" she scoffed, her voice echoing with a dismissive tone. "You might be my mom, but I see you more as a doll now... A tiny, insignificant nuisance."

Jasmine was taken aback, her heart squeezing painfully at the degrading words. But Jasmine knew at her age, she was being rebellious, and herself being the size of the doll made it much easier for Cadee to rebel. Jasmine chooses not to respond to Cadee's statement. "Cadee," she stammered, her tiny voice projecting as much as it could to her towering daughter. "Your outfit... it's too revealing. I can see... I can see your panties under that skirt. They are almost thong-like. You can't go out looking like that!"

Cadee erupted into a fit of laughter, the sound booming around Jasmine, making her wince. "Well, I don't care what you think!" she retorted. "And it's not my fault that your perspective allows you to see up my skirt. Besides, from a normal person's height, they can't see that anyways..."

Jasmine tried to refute it. "That may be true, but if you have to bend or sit or even slightly twirl too much, with your skirt so short, it may showcase a glimpse of it." Cadee looked down at her. "That's exactly what I'm going for! I want to be a massive tease at the party." she said proudly.

Jasmine felt a surge of maternal instinct, her tiny heart pounding in her chest. "Young lady, you are NOT leaving this house looking like that!" she asserted, her words carrying a desperation she couldn't hide.

Cadee's face hardened, her eyes flashing dangerously. She was about to show her mom who was really in charge.

Scene 5:

Moving swiftly, she reached down, her massive fingers closing in around Jasmine. Jasmine could only watch in disbelief as her world spun. Suddenly, she was being lifted off the floor, her body encased in a tight, warm grip. She felt the pressure of her daughter's fingers wrapping around her, her body trapped in a human cage. The sensation was terrifying, the realization of her helplessness sinking in.

As she was brought up to Cadee's face, Jasmine could see the fury blazing in her eyes. "I am an adult!!! Do you hear me???" Cadee spat, her hot breath washing over Jasmine. "I can do what I want, whenever I want!" she added.

Tears welled up in Jasmine's eyes, her tiny heart hammering in her chest as she put her arm out towards Cadee, who was, at this point, a monster compared to herself. She felt small, insignificant, and utterly powerless. Cadee's expression twisted into a grimace of pleasure, the power dynamics clearly tipping in her favor. Jasmine tried her best to respond, nervously. "But you live under my roof, so I don't care how old you are, you will follow the rules..."

Cadee chuckled "What roof? Your doll house? What are you going to do to physically stop me anyways?".

Jasmine was silent for a moment, her mind reeling, defeated. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Cadee chuckled, her laughter sounding like thunder to Jasmine's tiny ears. "That's right, you don't," she crowed. "Because you're nothing more than a tiny, insignificant doll."

Scene 6:

Cadee unceremoniously deposited her mother back onto the floor, her fingers unwrapping to release her. Jasmine stood there, her tiny body trembling as she watched her giant daughter turn and leave. "Cadee, please!" Jasmine begged, her voice choked with unshed tears, dropping to her knees. "Don't go out looking like that!"

But her pleas fell on deaf ears, Cadee ignoring her, as she spun away from her. She sauntered out the door, the closing of it sounding like a massive crash in Jasmine's ears. She was left alone, her world shrinking in on her as she realized the power her daughter had over her, burying her face into her hands, crying loudly. It was a bitter pill to swallow, a harsh reality that she had come directly face to face, or rather face to hand, with.