[Mini Story] King of his dreams

Hi Hi ✨

Hope you're all doing well! My week has been a little chaotic with school, work and the technical issues here on Patreon. Still no luck with the new images. So I've decided to take the weekend off and come back on Monday to solve it. So you will find in your folders all the new content for this weekend, but the post will be scheduled :)

For today's story we have a wild one. Still part of the fmg-35 universe, but more fantastical, as is all happening in a dream, so all scenarios al welcomed for part 2. Let me know what do you think of it and if you have any ideas for the second visit.

Tiers 3 & 4 get access to some extra images of other characters in this story ;)

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King of his dreams

"Another day, another dollar," muttered James as he trudged out of the office building, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his laptop bag. The setting sun cast long shadows across the street, and he couldn't help but notice how his own shadow seemed dwarfed by those of the women passing by.

A group of towering amazons in business suits strode past, their powerful legs eating up the pavement. One of them, easily 7'4", accidentally bumped into James, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Oh, sorry little guy!" she said, steadying him with a hand that engulfed his entire shoulder. "Didn't see you there. You okay?"

James felt his face flush with embarrassment. "Y-yeah, I'm fine. No worries." He said as the women had already continued their walk leaving him talking alone in the street.

James quickened his pace, eager to get home and away from the constant reminders of his diminished status in this new world. He unlocked the door to his small apartment, tossing his keys onto the cluttered coffee table.

"Home sweet home," he sighed, collapsing onto his couch. He glanced at the clock – 8:30 PM. "Might as well turn in early. At least in my dreams, I'm still in control."

After a quick shower and a meagre dinner of microwaved leftovers, James settled into bed. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, using the techniques he'd practiced for months to induce a lucid dream state.

Slowly, the world around him began to shift and change. The plain walls of his bedroom morphed into ornate stone, adorned with rich tapestries. His lumpy mattress transformed into a grand four-poster bed fit for royalty.

James opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face as he took in his surroundings. He was no longer in his cramped apartment, but in a luxurious medieval castle. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, marvelling at how strong and powerful they felt.

"Your Majesty?" a timid voice called from beyond the heavy wooden door. "Are you awake?"

James grinned, straightening his posture and deepening his voice. "Enter!"

A petite servant girl, no more than 5'2", scurried into the room, her eyes downcast. "Good morning, Your Majesty. I've brought your royal robes."

"Excellent," James boomed, revealing in the way the girl flinched at his authoritative tone. He stood, noting with satisfaction how she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "Assist me in dressing, then escort me to the throne room."

As the servant helped him into his ornate robes, James caught his reflection in a nearby mirror. He was tall, muscular, and commanding – everything he wasn't in the waking world. He flexed experimentally, watching his biceps bulge beneath the fabric.

"Is everything to your liking, Your Majesty?" the servant asked meekly.

James nodded, his eyes still fixed on his reflection. "Indeed it is. Now, come along."

They made their way through grand hallways, passing other servants who bowed deeply as James strode by. He basked in their deference, a stark contrast to how he was treated in his daily life.

Finally, they reached the throne room. James settled into his massive throne, looking out over the cavernous space. "Bring me some refreshments," he ordered the servant girl. "And be quick about it!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!" she squeaked, scurrying away.

James leaned back, a satisfied smirk on his face. This was how things should be – him in control, respected, feared even. Not like in the real world, where he felt constantly overshadowed and insignificant.

The servant girl returned moments later, carrying a golden platter laden with fresh fruits. She approached the throne, her steps careful and measured.

"Your grapes, Your Majesty," she said softly, offering the platter.

James waved his hand dismissively. "Feed them to me."

The girl's eyes widened slightly, but she complied, plucking a large grape from the bunch and holding it up to James' lips. He ate it lazily, enjoying the way she trembled slightly as she stood on her tiptoes to reach him.

This continued for several minutes, James relishing every moment of his perceived superiority. But then, as the servant reached for another grape, her hand slipped. The fruit tumbled from her fingers, bouncing off James' knee and rolling across the floor.

James felt a surge of irrational anger. Without thinking, he grabbed the girl's wrist, squeezing it tightly. "Clumsy fool!" he snarled. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

The servant whimpered, "I-I'm sorry, Your Majesty! It won't happen again!"

But James wasn't listening. He stood abruptly, using his dream control to add even more muscle to his frame. He lifted the girl by her throat, her feet dangling helplessly above the ground.

"Perhaps you need a lesson in respecting your betters," he growled.

But something felt... off. As James held the servant aloft, he became aware of a strange sensation. Was the ground getting closer? No, he realised with a jolt of panic – he was shrinking to his real life size!

James watched in horror as his arms began to slim down, the newly added muscle melting away. He felt his grip on the servant weakening, and he was forced to lower her to the ground.

"W-what's happening?" he stammered, his voice losing its authoritative boom.

The servant girl straightened up, and James noticed with growing alarm that she no longer needed to look up at him. In fact, as he continued to shrink, he found himself eye-level with her, then looking up.

"Your Majesty," she said, her voice no longer meek but rich with amusement, "I believe you're losing control."

James tried to focus, to reassert his dominance over the dream, but nothing happened. He watched, helpless, as the servant began to change. Her shoulders broadened, her arms swelling with newfound muscle. She grew taller, shooting up past 6 feet, then 7 feet, her clothes straining to contain her expanding frame.

"No," James whispered, backing away. "This isn't right. This is my dream!"

The servant – now towering over him at what must have been 7'6" – laughed. It was a deep, resonant sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the castle.

"Oh, little king," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and condescension, "I'm afraid you're not in control anymore."

The woman's laughter echoed through the throne room as her body continued to change. Her simple servant's dress began to shimmer and transform, the fabric expanding and morphing into an elaborate gown befitting royalty. Rich purples and golds flowed over her newly muscular frame, accentuating every curve and ripple of her powerful physique.

As her clothes changed, so did James's. His once-regal robes shrank and deteriorated, becoming tattered and worn. Within moments, he found himself dressed in the simple, coarse garments of a lowly servant.

"There," the woman purred, her voice deep and commanding. "Much better, don't you think... little one?"

James opened his mouth to protest, but his words caught in his throat as a heavy weight suddenly materialized around his neck. He reached up, fingers trembling, to find a thick metal collar encircling his neck. A chain dangled from it, its links clinking ominously.

Before he could react, the woman's hand shot out, impossibly fast for its size. Two of her fingers, each nearly as thick as his wrist, easily wrapped around his entire neck. She lifted him effortlessly, his feet dangling helplessly a foot off the ground.

"My, my," she mused, bringing him close to her face. Her breath was warm against his skin, smelling faintly of grapes. "How the mighty have fallen. You're so small, I could crush you without even trying."

James struggled weakly, his hands grasping at her fingers. It was like trying to bend steel. "Please," he gasped, barely able to speak with the pressure on his throat. "This is my dream. I'm in control here!"

The woman threw her head back and laughed, the sound reverberating through James's entire body. "Oh, you poor, deluded little man. Your control was always an illusion. But don't worry..." She leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "I'll take good care of you."

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed James onto the now-oversized throne. He landed with a soft thud, gasping for air and rubbing his neck.

"Now then," the woman said, placing her hands on her hips and looming over him. "I think it's time we established some new rules for this little kingdom of yours, don't you?"

James looked up at her, his heart racing. This was all wrong. This was supposed to be his escape, his fantasy. How had it all gone so horribly awry?

As if reading his thoughts, the woman's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Oh, we're just getting started, little king. Your real education is about to begin."

James squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating with all his might. "This is my dream," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I control it. I can fix this."

He imagined himself growing, muscles swelling, height increasing. He could almost feel it happening, the surge of power coursing through his body. With a triumphant grin, he opened his eyes, ready to reclaim his dominance.

But his smile quickly faded. The woman before him was changing, growing even larger. Her waist cinched in, creating an exaggerated hourglass figure that defied belief. Muscles rippled across her abs, her shoulders broadened further, and her already impressive height shot up another foot.

"No, no, no!" James cried, his voice cracking in despair.

The woman - now easily 8'6" tall - smirked down at him. "Oh yes, little one. Your desires fuel my transformation. Isn't it wonderful?"

Panicking, James closed his eyes again. "A magic wand," he thought desperately. "I need a magic wand to fix this!"

He heard a delighted gasp and opened his eyes to see a gleaming golden wand materializing in the woman's massive hand. It looked like a toothpick in her grasp.

"How thoughtful of you," she purred, twirling the wand between her fingers. "A queen should have a scepter, after all."

James's mind raced. Everything he tried was backfiring, making her more powerful. In a moment of desperation, he had a wild idea. "If everything I want for myself goes to her," he thought, "then maybe..."

He squeezed his eyes shut once more, this time imagining himself shrinking down, becoming tiny and insignificant.

To his shock and horror, he felt the change immediately. The throne beneath him seemed to expand rapidly, the armrests rising up on either side of him like cliff faces. He looked down at his body, watching in disbelief as it dwindled before his eyes.

The woman's laughter boomed overhead, sounding distant yet impossibly loud. "Oh, you clever little thing! But not quite clever enough, I'm afraid."

When the shrinking finally stopped, James found himself standing on the throne's seat cushion, barely three feet tall. He craned his neck back, taking in the towering form of the woman - no, the goddess - before him.

"Well now," she said, her voice a low rumble that he could feel in his chest. "Isn't this cozy? You're just the right size for a pet, I'd say."

James stumbled backward, nearly tripping over the folds in the cushion. "This can't be happening," he stammered. "It's just a dream. I can wake up. I can-"

The woman's hand swooped down, fingers wrapping around his entire body and lifting him up to her face. Her eyes, now the size of dinner plates to him, sparkled with amusement.

"Oh, but it is happening, my little dreamer," she said. "And you're not waking up until I say so."

James squirmed in her grasp, pushing against her fingers futilely. "Who... what are you?" he gasped.

She smiled, revealing teeth that looked terrifyingly large from his new perspective. "I am your deepest fears and secret desires made manifest, James. I am the world you pretend to hate but secretly crave. I am-"

"The virus," James whispered, realization dawning on him. "You're... you're the FMG-35 virus?"

The woman - the embodiment of the virus - nodded slowly. "In a manner of speaking. I am what your subconscious has conjured to represent it. And now, my little king, we're going to explore all those repressed thoughts and feelings you've been hiding from yourself."

She lowered him to the palm of her other hand, letting him stand there on shaky legs. "Tell me, James. How does it feel to be so small, so powerless? Is it everything you feared... or secretly hoped for?"

James felt his face burning with shame and confusion. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered. "This is a nightmare. I hate this!"

The woman raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Do you really? Then why haven't you woken up? Why does your little heart race with excitement as much as fear?" She brought him closer to her face, her breath washing over him like a warm breeze. "Be honest with yourself, James. For once in your life."

James felt tears welling up in his eyes, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions surging through him. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared, but also... I feel..."

"Safe?" she offered, her tone softening slightly. "Relieved to finally let go of the burden of control?"

He nodded hesitantly, unable to meet her gaze.

"Oh, my sweet little man," she cooed, gently stroking his back with one enormous finger. "We have so much to explore together. Are you ready to embrace your true desires?"

James looked up at her, his tiny heart pounding in his chest. Despite his fear, despite everything he thought he knew about himself, he found himself nodding. "Yes," he whispered. "I'm ready."

The virus-woman's smile widened, both thrilling and terrifying him. "Then let the real dream begin," she said, raising the magic wand. "And remember, James - in this world, size does matter."

The virus-woman, now revealed as Sabrina, gently cupped James in her enormous hands. "Now, my little dreamer," she said, her voice a mix of authority and unexpected warmth, "it's time for us to take a little journey through your memories."

James looked up at her, confusion evident on his tiny face. "What do you mean? Why are you doing this?"

Sabrina's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Because, James, your subconscious brought me here for a reason. You've been harboring so much resentment, so much fear towards the changes in the world. It's time you understood why."

With a wave of her newly acquired magic wand, the throne room dissolved around them. James felt a swooping sensation in his stomach as the scene shifted. When everything settled, he found himself strapped to Sabrina's chest in what appeared to be a baby carrier.

"Is this really necessary?" James protested, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Sabrina chuckled, the sound reverberating through her chest and into James's tiny body. "Oh, absolutely. We wouldn't want you getting lost, now would we?"

As James took in their new surroundings, he realized they were on a busy city street. Sabrina, still dressed in her regal attire, was straddling a motorbike that looked comically small beneath her 8'6" frame.

"This is ridiculous," James muttered. "Can't you at least make me my normal size?"

Sabrina pretended to consider for a moment. "Hmm, I could... but then you wouldn't fit in this adorable little carrier, would you?" She patted his head condescendingly. "Besides, I think this size suits you."

Before James could argue further, Sabrina kickstarted the bike and they roared off down the street. Despite his predicament, James couldn't help but marvel at the surreal scene they must be presenting - a giant woman in royal garb, riding a motorcycle with a tiny man strapped to her chest.

As they wove through traffic, Sabrina spoke again. "We're going to revisit some key moments in your life, James. Moments that shaped your attitude towards the new world order. And I'm going to help you see them from a... different perspective."

The world around them blurred, and suddenly they were inside an office building. James recognized it immediately - his old workplace.

"No," he whispered. "Not this day."

Sabrina dismounted the bike, which vanished as soon as she stepped away from it. She strode confidently through the office, ignoring the shocked stares of the employees who seemed unable to see her or James.

"Ah, here we are," she said, stopping outside a door marked 'Regional Manager'. "Shall we take a peek?"

Without waiting for an answer, Sabrina pushed open the door. Inside, James saw himself - his past self - sitting behind the desk, looking stressed and disheveled. Across from him sat his former assistant, Sandra, now several inches taller and noticeably more muscular than she had been before the virus.

"I'm sorry, James," memory-Sandra was saying, her voice gentle but firm. "But management feels that with the recent... changes, it would be more efficient if we switched roles."

Memory-James slammed his fist on the desk. "This is bullshit! I've been with this company for fifteen years! You can't just demote me because you got tall and strong!"

Sandra sighed, looking genuinely sympathetic. "It's not just about physical capabilities, James. It's about adapting to the new world. You've been resistant to change, and it's affecting your performance."

As the scene played out, Sabrina leaned down to whisper in the real James's ear. "You see how angry you were? How you lashed out instead of trying to understand?"

James squirmed uncomfortably in the carrier. "What was I supposed to do? Just accept that everything I'd worked for was being taken away?"

Sabrina nodded thoughtfully. "Change is hard, little one. But fighting it only made things worse. Watch..."

The scene fast-forwarded, showing a montage of memory-James becoming increasingly bitter and isolated at work. His colleagues, both male and female, seemed to be adapting to the new dynamics, while he remained stuck in his resentment.

"You pushed everyone away," Sabrina commented. "Even those who wanted to help you."

James felt a lump forming in his throat. "I... I didn't know how to handle it. I felt so powerless."

Sabrina's finger gently wiped away a tear that had formed in James's eye. "Powerless, yes. But did you ever stop to think that your colleagues might have felt the same way? That they were also struggling to adapt?"

James shook his head slowly. "I guess I was too caught up in my own problems."

Sabrina nodded, her expression softening slightly. "That's why we're here, James. To help you understand and move past these feelings."

As the office scene faded away, James looked up at Sabrina. "Can you... can you make me my normal size now? Please? It's hard to take all this in when I'm so small."

Sabrina smirked. "Oh, alright. But only because you asked so nicely." With a wave of her wand, James suddenly found himself back to his regular height - though still dwarfed by Sabrina's towering form.

"Better?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

James nodded, stretching his now normal-sized limbs. "Yes, thank you."

Sabrina's smirk widened. "Don't get too comfortable, little man. We've got more stops on this journey, and who knows? I might just decide you look cuter when you're pocket-sized."

As they prepared to move on to the next memory, James couldn't help but feel a mix of apprehension and curiosity. What other parts of his past would Sabrina force him to confront? And more importantly, was he ready to face the truths she seemed determined to show him?