HGlock SM - The Day My Mother Shrunk Me.pdf (2025) (UNAWARE SPECIAL!)

Martin had always been a peculiar boy, fascinated by the small things in life. To him, a crushed LEGO figure or a stepped-on pen was a source of endless excitement. His mother Mary often chalked up the little objects scattered around the living room floor to her own clumsiness. She had no idea of the dark secret her 15-year-old son harbored.

One afternoon, after Mary once again destroyed several of Martin's prized tiny treasures with her heavy wooden sandals, the boy finally mustered up the courage to confess his twisted desires.

"Mom..." Martin began hesitantly as they both knelt to clean up the latest and smallest of the casualties. "You know how I always seem to find little things on the floor? Well, there's something you should know..."

Mary looked at him curiously as she picked up the headless LEGO body. "What is it, sweetie? You know you can tell me anything."

Martin took a deep breath. "I haven't been just finding those little parts by accident. I've been placing them there on purpose. Because...because I like it when you step on them. I like hearing them crunch under your feet."

Mary paused, the plastic torso frozen in her hand. She looked at her son, trying to process this bizarre revelation. After a moment, she spoke carefully.

"Martin, what you're describing...it sounds a little unhealthy. It's not normal to get excited by things being broken."

"I know," he said, looking down. "I don't expect you to understand. I thought you would be disgusted with me."

"No, I just think you might need to talk to someone about these feelings. A professional." Mary set the broken toy down gently and placed a comforting hand on her son's shoulder. "I'm here for you, no matter what. But I worry this fixation could lead to darker things..."

Martin met her eyes, a sudden intensity burning in his gaze. "There's more. Mom, you have no idea how long I've felt this way. How intensely. This is only the beginning of my desires."

A chill ran through Mary at the uncharacteristic fervor in her boy's voice. Before she could respond, he continued.

"Because the truth is, I want more than just little plastic pieces. I want to be stepped on myself. I want to be small and helpless, crushed under someone else's shoe. I want to experience that ultimate thrill."

Mary recoiled as if struck, letting out a gasp. "Martin, that's...no. That's not something a person can want. It's not possible."

The boy stood up swiftly, a manic grin spreading across his face. "Oh but it is, Mother. I know because I've seen it with my own eyes. And I'm willing to bet you have secrets of your own..."

Mary's eyes widened in shock. "What are you talking about? I don't know what you mean."

"Don't lie to me, Mother." Martin advanced on her slowly. "I've seen what you keep in the basement. The strange equipment. You're an inventor, aren't you? You've created a device that can shrink things down to a tiny size."

Mary froze, her mind reeling. How had he discovered her secret experiments? With shaking hands, she whispered.

"Martin, you don't understand. That project is still in the experimental stages. It's not ready. It's not safe."

"Oh, I think it is." The boy's grin now looked positively unhinged. "I want you to use it on me, Mother. I want to be shrunk down so I'm helpless under your feet. I want to feel the rush of being crushed alive."

"No!" Mary cried out, putting her hands up. "Absolutely not. I would never put you in that kind of danger, even if the technology was stable. Not in a million years."

Martin started to laugh, a shrill, manic sound. "Are you sure about that, Mom? Because I think you're lying. I think part of you wants to do this to me. To hold the power of life and death over your own son."

Mary felt her blood run cold at his words, a creeping sense of dread. He was right. Some dark, twisted part of her was tempted. The concept was so wrong, so taboo. And yet...

"Martin..." She spoke his name softly, a warning. "This is insane. We can't."

"Oh, but we can," he purred, moving closer. "You want to as much as I do. I can see it in your eyes."

Mary tried to back away but found herself pressed against the wall. Her son loomed over her, his face inches from her own. She could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Please, Martin..." Her voice came out in a whimper.

"Shh, don't be afraid, Mother." He stroked her hair in a sickeningly paternal gesture. "I know you'll give me what I want. What we both want. Take me to your basement lab. Let's see if your machine works."

Mary's eyes filled with tears as she realized the impossible situation she was in. Her son had her cornered, both physically and emotionally. She had no choice but to comply with his twisted demands.

With a sob, she gave in. "Okay. We'll do this. But you have to promise me you'll be careful. I can't lose you."

Martin's face split into a triumphant grin. "I promise, Mother. Now let's go."

Breaking into the lab, Mary fumbled with the controls of her shrink ray device, trying to steady her shaking hands. She knew this was wrong on every level. But the dark thrill emanating from her son was infectious.

As Martin stripped down to his underwear, Mary locked the target chamber and initiated the sequence. A blinding flash lit up the room and the boy vanished. Mary anxiously peered into the tiny glass prison and gasped. It had worked. Her son now stood only a centimeter tall, completely nude and vulnerable.

Trembling, she opened the chamber and reached in to pluck out the miniscule figure. Martin looked up at her with utter awe and delight, his tiny body quivering with excitement.

Mary carried him to the main floor and set him down on the carpet. Her sandals loomed over his comparatively tiny form like twin moons.

"Remember, stay completely still and quiet," she warned. "I have to be careful not to step on you."

"Thank you, Mother," Martin breathed, his voice barely audible. "I love you."

Mary's heart twisted with a confusing mix of maternal affection and twisted arousal. "I love you too, son. Now stay safe and let Mommy take care of you."

She lifted one massive foot, feeling the delicious strain of her sandal strap digging into her instep. With a deep breath, Mary took a step forward, bringing her sole down to crush an unsuspecting centipede.

The boy let out a squeal of ecstasy, his tiny body shuddering with bliss at the vibrations. Emboldened, Mary continued her slow, careful march, annihilating any insect unlucky enough to cross her path.

Each satisfying crunch and squelch made Martin writhe in perverted rapture. He drank in the raunchy symphony of destruction, knowing he could be next at any moment. The ultimate thrill of submission.

Suddenly, Mary's toe nudged something small and squirming. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she realized it was her son, writhing in ecstasy, seconds from annihilation.

Acting on instinct, Mary wrenched her foot away, stumbling to catch her balance. The sandal came down a mere fraction of an inch to the side, the shockwave nearly knocking the miniscule boy out cold.

"Mom!" Martin cried out in a mix of fear and delight. "S-so close!"

Mary let out a shuddering breath, composing herself. She had to keep it together. Grabbing her son, she carried him to the relative safety of her desk and set him down on a soft patch of cloth.

"There, much safer," she soothed, even as a dark part of her whispered that he had liked the danger. That she had too.

As if reading her mind, Martin grinned up at her, his tiny body still flushed with excitement. "Don't worry, Mother. I trust you completely. I know you'd never let anything happen to me...unless you wanted to."

Mary shivered at the implication in his words, even as twisted heat coiled in her belly. God help them both. This was only the beginning.

Over the next few weeks, mother and son explored their dark new hobby with increasing intensity. Mary would shrink Martin for hours, indulging his every depraved fantasy.

She would carefully stomp on hapless insects, relishing his tiny squeals of ecstasy. Crush tiny toys and treats, delighting in his writhing rapture at the destruction. Once she even let him ride on her foot as she walked, the ultimate thrill of being one misstep from oblivion.

But the power dynamic was changing. What started as a twisted form of maternal protection was morphing into something more sinister. The boy's hunger for danger, his desire to be utterly dominated by his mother, only grew with each session.

Mary caught herself growing more and more reckless each time, her own dark urges rising to match her son's. Those near-misses were starting to feel less like accidents and more like a perversely thrilling game of chicken.

It all came to a head one evening as they sat together in the lab, basking in the afterglow of a particularly intense shrinking session.

"Mom, I have a special request," Martin said, his tiny naked body still glistening with sweat and scraps of bug gore. "For our next time, I want you to really take a chance. I want you to actually try to step on me. As in, come down right on top of my body and grind me into the floor."

Mary froze, her maternal instincts screaming in protest even as a dark thrill raced through her. "Martin, no! That's too dangerous. I could kill you!"

"Maybe that's what I want," he said, his gaze intense. "Don't you ever fantasize about just ending my life with your foot? Holding that power over me?"

"No!" Mary cried, even as her treacherous mind summoned up the image.

"I think you do," her son purred. "I think part of you wants to kill me, snuff out my life between your toes. Crush your only child into nothing."

Mary's head spun, torn between horror and a twisted sort of arousal. Was he right? Did she secretly crave the ultimate taboo?

"Let's find out," Martin breathed, pressing his nude miniscule body against her foot. "Step on me, Mother. Kill me or don't. Give in to your dark urges. It's okay. I trust you."

With a strangled sob, Mary slowly raised her sandal. She felt her son's comparatively weightless body twitching against her sole, his breath coming in eager pants.

This was it. The point of no return. If she brought her foot down now, she would be a murderer. And yet...

She started to lower her foot, the anticipation coiling hot and tight in her core. Martin squealed in twisted bliss, his tiny body writhing against her.

The sole hovered a hair's breadth from his chest. Mary squeezed her eyes shut, her heart thundering in her ears. This was wrong, so wrong. And yet the darkness urging her on was too strong to resist.

With a choked cry, Mary brought her foot down. The impact was almost too slight to feel. But the wet crunch and Martin's strangled scream of ecstasy were unmistakable.

It was over in an instant. Mary opened her eyes to behold a tiny smear of blood and viscera, all that remained of her only child.

She had done it. She had crossed the ultimate line and killed her own son in the most depraved way imaginable.

And to her horror, she had never felt more alive. More powerful. The taboo thrill of it all crashed through her in a tidal wave of dark, incestuous ecstasy.

Throwing her head back, Mary let out a shuddering moan, her core clenching with twisted rapture. She had indulged her darkest fantasy and lived to revel in it.

God help her, the first taste had only made her crave more.