USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop t...

USER: The bull took the cheetah between his enormous fingers and brought him close of his huge snout. He kissed the cheetah despite the huge size difference and shoved him in his pocket before leaving the room..

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. Adam looked better and saw to his horror that form was a grey furred cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly holder than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and tossing the tiny creature aside. The cheetah landed on the table with a soft thud, dazed and disoriented. The bull got up and left the room, satisfied with his little game. The cheetah lay there for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Many of his fellow micros had not been so lucky. As he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so bad. How had the macros become so powerful? And why hadn't the micros fought back? But he knew the answer to that. The macros were simply too big and too strong. And the micros were too small and too weak. It was a sad and terrifying reality, but one that the cheetah knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive. So he picked himself up off the table and went about his day, trying to avoid being caught by any other macros. It was a dangerous life, but it was the only one he had. The bull took the cheetah between his enormous fingers and brought him close of his huge snout. He kissed the cheetah despite the huge size difference and shoved him in his pocket before leaving the room... The cheetah squirmed in the pocket, feeling the warmth and dampness of the bull's skin as he moved. He knew that he was lucky to have been saved from being devoured, but being kept as a pet was no better. He couldn't help but wonder what the bull had in store for him next. As they walked through the macro-sized house, the cheetah took in his surroundings. Everything was so much larger than it had been before the macros' emergence. Every piece of furniture, every utensil, even the smallest knick-knack on a shelf was now massive to him. The bull eventually sat down in a large living room, pulling out the cheetah from his pocket. "You're such a cute little thing," he cooed, looking down at the tiny cheetah. "I think I'll keep you as my pocket pet." The cheetah gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated by the situation. He was no one's pet, he was a sentient being with his own thoughts and feelings. But to the bull, he was just another tiny toy to be played with. Days turned into weeks, and the cheetah grew increasingly restless. He couldn't stand being cooped up in the bull's pocket all the time, and he longed for freedom. But he knew that there was no way he could escape on his own. He was too small, too weak, and too vulnerable. One night, as the bull slept, the cheetah hatched a plan. He quietly crept out of the pocket and onto the floor, searching for a way out of the room. He eventually found an open window and, with all the strength he could muster, climbed out and onto the macro-sized roof. He knew that it was a long shot, but he had to try. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, hoping against hope that he could somehow find a way to survive in this dangerous new world. The cheetah got cornered by a gigantic scorpion. But when he was on the point to be grabbed by the giant pincers of the giant arachnid a gigantic cloven hoofed foot slammed on the scorpion and pulverized him. The ground shook. The cheetah lifted his head following the huge ankle and massively muscled leg only to see the looming face of the young grey bull glaring down at him. "I told you to stay with me." He grumbled, his deep voice resounding around. He then reached his enormous and meaty hand down and seized the cheetah.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop t...

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. Adam looked better and saw to his horror that form was a grey furred cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly holder than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and tossing the tiny creature aside. The cheetah landed on the table with a soft thud, dazed and disoriented. The bull got up and left the room, satisfied with his little game. The cheetah lay there for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Many of his fellow micros had not been so lucky. As he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so bad. How had the macros become so powerful? And why hadn't the micros fought back? But he knew the answer to that. The macros were simply too big and too strong. And the micros were too small and too weak. It was a sad and terrifying reality, but one that the cheetah knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive. So he picked himself up off the table and went about his day, trying to avoid being caught by any other macros. It was a dangerous life, but it was the only one he had. The bull took the cheetah between his enormous fingers and brought him close of his huge snout. He kissed the cheetah despite the huge size difference and shoved him in his pocket before leaving the room... The cheetah squirmed in the pocket, feeling the warmth and dampness of the bull's skin as he moved. He knew that he was lucky to have been saved from being devoured, but being kept as a pet was no better. He couldn't help but wonder what the bull had in store for him next. As they walked through the macro-sized house, the cheetah took in his surroundings. Everything was so much larger than it had been before the macros' emergence. Every piece of furniture, every utensil, even the smallest knick-knack on a shelf was now massive to him. The bull eventually sat down in a large living room, pulling out the cheetah from his pocket. "You're such a cute little thing," he cooed, looking down at the tiny cheetah. "I think I'll keep you as my pocket pet." The cheetah gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated by the situation. He was no one's pet, he was a sentient being with his own thoughts and feelings. But to the bull, he was just another tiny toy to be played with. Days turned into weeks, and the cheetah grew increasingly restless. He couldn't stand being cooped up in the bull's pocket all the time, and he longed for freedom. But he knew that there was no way he could escape on his own. He was too small, too weak, and too vulnerable. One night, as the bull slept, the cheetah hatched a plan. He quietly crept out of the pocket and onto the floor, searching for a way out of the room. He eventually found an open window and, with all the strength he could muster, climbed out and onto the macro-sized roof. He knew that it was a long shot, but he had to try. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, hoping against hope that he could somehow find a way to survive in this dangerous new world. The cheetah got cornered by a gigantic scorpion. But when he was on the point to be grabbed by the giant pincers of the giant arachnid a gigantic cloven hoofed foot slammed on the scorpion and pulverized him. The ground shook. The cheetah lifted his head following the huge ankle and massively muscled leg only to see the looming face of the young grey bull glaring down at him. "I told you to stay with me." He grumbled, his deep voice resounding around. He then reached his enormous and meaty hand down and seized the cheetah. "You're lucky a saw you tying to run, if I was not there that scorpion would have eaten you alive."

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. Adam looked better and saw to his horror that form was a grey furred cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly holder than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and tossing the tiny creature aside. The cheetah landed on the table with a soft thud, dazed and disoriented. The bull got up and left the room, satisfied with his little game. The cheetah lay there for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Many of his fellow micros had not been so lucky. As he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so bad. How had the macros become so powerful? And why hadn't the micros fought back? But he knew the answer to that. The macros were simply too big and too strong. And the micros were too small and too weak. It was a sad and terrifying reality, but one that the cheetah knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive. So he picked himself up off the table and went about his day, trying to avoid being caught by any other macros. It was a dangerous life, but it was the only one he had. The bull took the cheetah between his enormous fingers and brought him close of his huge snout. He kissed the cheetah despite the huge size difference and shoved him in his pocket before leaving the room... The cheetah squirmed in the pocket, feeling the warmth and dampness of the bull's skin as he moved. He knew that he was lucky to have been saved from being devoured, but being kept as a pet was no better. He couldn't help but wonder what the bull had in store for him next. As they walked through the macro-sized house, the cheetah took in his surroundings. Everything was so much larger than it had been before the macros' emergence. Every piece of furniture, every utensil, even the smallest knick-knack on a shelf was now massive to him. The bull eventually sat down in a large living room, pulling out the cheetah from his pocket. "You're such a cute little thing," he cooed, looking down at the tiny cheetah. "I think I'll keep you as my pocket pet." The cheetah gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated by the situation. He was no one's pet, he was a sentient being with his own thoughts and feelings. But to the bull, he was just another tiny toy to be played with. Days turned into weeks, and the cheetah grew increasingly restless. He couldn't stand being cooped up in the bull's pocket all the time, and he longed for freedom. But he knew that there was no way he could escape on his own. He was too small, too weak, and too vulnerable. One night, as the bull slept, the cheetah hatched a plan. He quietly crept out of the pocket and onto the floor, searching for a way out of the room. He eventually found an open window and, with all the strength he could muster, climbed out and onto the macro-sized roof. He knew that it was a long shot, but he had to try. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, hoping against hope that he could somehow find a way to survive in this dangerous new world. The cheetah got cornered by a gigantic scorpion. But when he was on the point to be grabbed by the giant pincers of the giant arachnid a gigantic cloven hoofed foot slammed on the scorpion and pulverized him. The ground shook. The cheetah lifted his head following the huge ankle and massively muscled leg only to see the looming face of the young grey bull glaring down at him. "I told you to stay with me." He grumbled, his deep voice resounding around. He then reached his enormous and meaty hand down and seized the cheetah. "You're lucky a saw you tying to run, if I was not there that scorpion would have eaten you alive." The cheetah didn't feel lucky, he felt trapped. He was back in the bull's grip once again, unable to escape. He knew that he would never be able to survive on his own in this world. He was just another tiny prey animal, destined to live out his life as a plaything for the macros. As the bull carried him back into the house, the cheetah realized that this was his fate. He would always be at the mercy of the giants, living in fear of being snatched up and devoured at any moment. It was a grim reality, but one that he knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive in this world of macros and micros. The massively muscular bull kept the cheetah with him for the night, cradling his comparatively diminutive form on his immense and massively muscular and beefy pecs. He petted him delicately with the tip of his finger. "Don't try to flee again. You would be hunted down by these animals." He said with his low tonned bull voice, but in reasuring tone. The cheetah couldn't help but feel comforted by the bull's words. As much as he wished to be free, he knew that the bull was right. He would never be able to survive in this dangerous world on his own. He relaxed in the bull's hold and closed his eyes, feeling safe and secure in the giant's grasp. As the night wore on, the cheetah drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the bull's breathing. He knew that his fate was sealed, but for now, he was content to be held by the giant who had spared his life. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The cheetah squirmed in his restraints, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He didn't like being studied and compared to other micro predators. He was his own unique individual, not just a specimen to be examined. But the bull seemed completely engrossed in his work, completely oblivious to the cheetah's discomfort. He prodded and poked at the micro cat's limbs, examining his structure with an intensity that bordered on obsession. As the hours wore on, the cheetah grew more and more restless. He wanted to be free, to run and play like he had before the rise of the macros. But he knew that this was his life now, to be studied and examined like a lab rat. Finally, after what felt like hours, the bull released him from his restraints and placed him back in the cage in his backpack. The cheetah slumped against the side of the cage, feeling defeated. This was his life now, and there was nothing he could do about it. A college professor, a old and massive ram approached the younger bull student. The lion was still restrained on the mat as the bull didn't have had the time to place him back in his cage yet. The ram looked at the unlucky feline absent-mindedly before talking to the student. "Seems your work is progressing. I'll have something to ask you. It's about the pardinensis cheetah you own. You already know we don't possess any specimen of this specie in our collection." "Yes, it's a very rare specie, I was lucky to find one in that expedition and as lucky to have succeeded to capture him." "We don't want to take him from you as he is in good hands in your custody. But we would like to examine him and make some samples. Seeds samples would be important, for preservation, you understand, if ever a female specimen got captured one day." The bull student considered the ram's request. He didn't want to give up his prized possession, but he also didn't want to deny the science community the opportunity to study the rare cheetah. "I would be willing to allow some samples to be taken," he said finally. "But I want to be present during the procedures to ensure that my cheetah is treated with care and respect." The ram nodded, understanding the bull's concerns. "Of course, we will take every precaution to ensure the safety and well-being of your cheetah. We will schedule the procedure for a time that is convenient for you to be present." The bull student agreed, feeling a small sense of relief. He knew that his cheetah would be in good hands with the college's experienced scientists and researchers. And with the hope of preserving the rare specie, he felt that allowing the procedure to go forward was the right thing to do. The cheetah heard the discussion between the two gigantic herbivores. If the survival of his specie might be a topic he might agree, he was not very delighted by the idea of being examined by these humongous macros especially by ones he didn't know, it already took a long time before he stopped to be afraid of what his bull captor was doing. And above all, he didn't want his seeds to be used to make a captive pardinensis female have cubs. He didn't dare to show his discontent as he was not wanting to draw attention of the towering ram on him. Despite his reservations and uncertainties, the cheetah knew that he had little choice in the matter. He was a captive of the bull student, and ultimately it was up to the giant to decide what was best for him. But the idea of his seeds being used to create captive pardinensis cubs made him uneasy. He didn't want his kind to suffer the same fate as he had, trapped and studied by the massive macros. Regardless, he remained silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He simply curled up in the corner of his cage, feeling small and powerless in this world of giants. After returning the lion in his cage, and responding at his angry growling for having been treated this way with a gentle caress on his belly, the bull returned home. He put the cage on the coffee table of his living room in front of his couch and sit onto. He removed his t-shirt revealing his humongous and meaty muscles. Then he opened the cage to let the cheetah the opportunity to move out and stretch his legs on the comparatively vast surface of the table. The cheetah cautiously stepped out of his cage and onto the coffee table, stretching his tiny legs and muscles. He appreciated the opportunity to move freely after being restrained for so long. The bull watched him closely, his massive form dwarfing the small cheetah. "You're a fascinating little creature," he said, marveling at the cheetah's small features. "I'm glad I found you on that expedition, you've given me so much to study and learn from." The cheetah bristled at the bull's words, feeling like nothing more than a specimen to be observed and analyzed. But he knew that any protest would fall on deaf ears. He was just a micro predator, a tiny plaything to be used and controlled by the macros. So he simply nodded in response, remaining silent as he explored the coffee table, always aware of the giant bull watching him every move. The bull opened a bottle of mineral water scaled to his enormous size.He was buying this brand especially because it was from a mountain spring whose composition was close of the one the cheetah was from and he assumed his cheetah would enjoy to drink water tasting close of the one he drunk in his environment. He poured some gallons in the hollow of the cap of the plastic bottle and delicately put it on the table for the cheetah. Then he drank the remaining of the bottle, thousands of gallons rushing through his large throat with loud gulping sounds. The cheetah watched as the bull drank the large bottle of water, amazed at the sheer size and capacity of the giant's body. He had never seen anything like it before. When the bull poured out some water for him, he eagerly drank from the cap, enjoying the taste of the natural spring water. It reminded him of his home and made him feel a small sense of comfort. As the bull watched him drink, he couldn't help but feel a sense of fondness for the tiny cheetah. He knew that the cheetah was completely dependent on him for survival, but he still felt a sense of connection to the little predator. After the cheetah had finished drinking, the bull carefully scooped him up in his hand and held him close to his chest. "You're a special little creature," he said softly. "And I'm glad I have you in my life." The cheetah squirmed in the giant's grasp, feeling both comforted and trapped at the same time. The bull reclined and placed the cheetah on his enormous and beefy pecs. The bull was feeling a bit exhausted after this day. "I thrust you. Don't try to run away, remember the last time with the scorpion." The cheetah didn't like to be lectured by a young one who was around half his own age, but the bull was right about the risks of the surrounding.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop t...

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop t...

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. Adam looked better and saw to his horror thatThat form was a grey furred cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly holder than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and tossingputting the tiny creature aside. The cheetah landed on the table with a soft thud, dazed and disoriented. The bull got up and left the room, satisfied with his little game. The cheetah lay there for a few moments, trying to gather his thoughts. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Many of his fellow micros had not been so lucky. As he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder how things had gotten so bad. How had the macros become so powerful? And why hadn't the micros fought back? But he knew the answer to that. The macros were simply too big and too strong. And the micros were too small and too weak. It was a sad and terrifying reality, but one that the cheetah knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive. So he picked himself up off the table and went about his day, trying to avoid being caught by any other macros. It was a dangerous life, but it was the only one he had. The bull took the cheetah between his enormous fingers and brought him close of his huge snout. He kissed the cheetah despite the huge size difference and shoved him in his pocket before leaving the room... The cheetah squirmed in the pocket, feeling the warmth and dampness of the bull's skin as he moved. He knew that he was lucky to have been saved from being devoured, but being kept as a pet was no better. He couldn't help but wonder what the bull had in store for him next. As they walked through the macro-sized house, the cheetah took in his surroundings. Everything was so much larger than it had been before the macros' emergence. Every piece of furniture, every utensil, even the smallest knick-knack on a shelf was now massive to him. The bull eventually sat down in a large living room, pulling out the cheetah from his pocket. "You're such a cute little thing," he cooed, looking down at the tiny cheetah. "I think I'll keep you as my pocket pet." The cheetah gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated by the situation. He was no one's pet, he was a sentient being with his own thoughts and feelings. But to the bull, he was just another tiny toy to be played with. Days turned into weeks, and the cheetah grew increasingly restless. He couldn't stand being cooped up in the bull's pocket all the time, and he longed for freedom. But he knew that there was no way he could escape on his own. He was too small, too weak, and too vulnerable. One night, as the bull slept, the cheetah hatched a plan. He quietly crept out of the pocket and onto the floor, searching for a way out of the room. He eventually found an open window and, with all the strength he could muster, climbed out and onto the macro-sized roof. He knew that it was a long shot, but he had to try. He ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, hoping against hope that he could somehow find a way to survive in this dangerous new world. The cheetah got cornered by a gigantic scorpion. But when he was on the point to be grabbed by the giant pincers of the giant arachnid a gigantic cloven hoofed foot slammed on the scorpion and pulverized him. The ground shook. The cheetah lifted his head following the huge ankle and massively muscled leg only to see the looming face of the young grey bull glaring down at him. "I told you to stay with me." He grumbled, his deep voice resounding around. He then reached his enormous and meaty hand down and seized the cheetah. "You're lucky a saw you tying to run, if I was not there that scorpion would have eaten you alive." The cheetah didn't feel lucky, he felt trapped. He was back in the bull's grip once again, unable to escape. He knew that he would never be able to survive on his own in this world. He was just another tiny prey animal, destined to live out his life as a plaything for the macros. As the bull carried him back into the house, the cheetah realized that this was his fate. He would always be at the mercy of the giants, living in fear of being snatched up and devoured at any moment. It was a grim reality, but one that he knew he would have to accept if he wanted to survive in this world of macros and micros. The massively muscular bull kept the cheetah with him for the night, cradling his comparatively diminutive form on his immense and massively muscular and beefy pecs. He petted him delicately with the tip of his finger. "Don't try to flee again. You would be hunted down by these animals." He said with his low tonned bull voice, but in reasuring tone. The cheetah couldn't help but feel comforted by the bull's words. As much as he wished to be free, he knew that the bull was right. He would never be able to survive in this dangerous world on his own. He relaxed in the bull's hold and closed his eyes, feeling safe and secure in the giant's grasp. As the night wore on, the cheetah drifted off to sleep, lulled by the gentle rhythm of the bull's breathing. He knew that his fate was sealed, but for now, he was content to be held by the giant who had spared his life. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The cheetah squirmed in his restraints, feeling vulnerable and exposed. He didn't like being studied and compared to other micro predators. He was his own unique individual, not just a specimen to be examined. But the bull seemed completely engrossed in his work, completely oblivious to the cheetah's discomfort. He prodded and poked at the micro cat's limbs, examining his structure with an intensity that bordered on obsession. As the hours wore on, the cheetah grew more and more restless. He wanted to be free, to run and play like he had before the rise of the macros. But he knew that this was his life now, to be studied and examined like a lab rat. Finally, after what felt like hours, the bull released him from his restraints and placed him back in the cage in his backpack. The cheetah slumped against the side of the cage, feeling defeated. This was his life now, and there was nothing he could do about it. A college professor, a old and massive ram approached the younger bull student. The lion was still restrained on the mat as the bull didn't have had the time to place him back in his cage yet. The ram looked at the unlucky feline absent-mindedly before talking to the student. "Seems your work is progressing. I'll have something to ask you. It's about the pardinensis cheetah you own. You already know we don't possess any specimen of this specie in our collection." "Yes, it's a very rare specie, I was lucky to find one in that expedition and as lucky to have succeeded to capture him." "We don't want to take him from you as he is in good hands in your custody. But we would like to examine him and make some samples. Seeds samples would be important, for preservation, you understand, if ever a female specimen got captured one day." The bull student considered the ram's request. He didn't want to give up his prized possession, but he also didn't want to deny the science community the opportunity to study the rare cheetah. "I would be willing to allow some samples to be taken," he said finally. "But I want to be present during the procedures to ensure that my cheetah is treated with care and respect." The ram nodded, understanding the bull's concerns. "Of course, we will take every precaution to ensure the safety and well-being of your cheetah. We will schedule the procedure for a time that is convenient for you to be present." The bull student agreed, feeling a small sense of relief. He knew that his cheetah would be in good hands with the college's experienced scientists and researchers. And with the hope of preserving the rare specie, he felt that allowing the procedure to go forward was the right thing to do. The cheetah heard the discussion between the two gigantic herbivores. If the survival of his specie might be a topic he might agree, he was not very delighted by the idea of being examined by these humongous macros especially by ones he didn't know, it already took a long time before he stopped to be afraid of what his bull captor was doing. And above all, he didn't want his seeds to be used to make a captive pardinensis female have cubs. He didn't dare to show his discontent as he was not wanting to draw attention of the towering ram on him. Despite his reservations and uncertainties, the cheetah knew that he had little choice in the matter. He was a captive of the bull student, and ultimately it was up to the giant to decide what was best for him. But the idea of his seeds being used to create captive pardinensis cubs made him uneasy. He didn't want his kind to suffer the same fate as he had, trapped and studied by the massive macros. Regardless, he remained silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He simply curled up in the corner of his cage, feeling small and powerless in this world of giants. After returning the lion in his cage, and responding at his angry growling for having been treated this way with a gentle caress on his belly, the bull returned home. He put the cage on the coffee table of his living room in front of his couch and sit onto. He removed his t-shirt revealing his humongous and meaty muscles. Then he opened the cage to let the cheetah the opportunity to move out and stretch his legs on the comparatively vast surface of the table. The cheetah cautiously stepped out of his cage and onto the coffee table, stretching his tiny legs and muscles. He appreciated the opportunity to move freely after being restrained for so long. The bull watched him closely, his massive form dwarfing the small cheetah. "You're a fascinating little creature," he said, marveling at the cheetah's small features. "I'm glad I found you on that expedition, you've given me so much to study and learn from." The cheetah bristled at the bull's words, feeling like nothing more than a specimen to be observed and analyzed. But he knew that any protest would fall on deaf ears. He was just a micro predator, a tiny plaything to be used and controlled by the macros. So he simply nodded in response, remaining silent as he explored the coffee table, always aware of the giant bull watching him every move. The bull opened a bottle of mineral water scaled to his enormous size.He was buying this brand especially because it was from a mountain spring whose composition was close of the one the cheetah was from and he assumed his cheetah would enjoy to drink water tasting close of the one he drunk in his environment. He poured some gallons in the hollow of the cap of the plastic bottle and delicately put it on the table for the cheetah. Then he drank the remaining of the bottle, thousands of gallons rushing through his large throat with loud gulping sounds. The cheetah watched as the bull drank the large bottle of water, amazed at the sheer size and capacity of the giant's body. He had never seen anything like it before. When the bull poured out some water for him, he eagerly drank from the cap, enjoying the taste of the natural spring water. It reminded him of his home and made him feel a small sense of comfort. As the bull watched him drink, he couldn't help but feel a sense of fondness for the tiny cheetah. He knew that the cheetah was completely dependent on him for survival, but he still felt a sense of connection to the little predator. After the cheetah had finished drinking, the bull carefully scooped him up in his hand and held him close to his chest. "You're a special little creature," he said softly. "And I'm glad I have you in my life." The cheetah squirmed in the giant's grasp, feeling both comforted and trapped at the same time. The bull reclined and placed the cheetah on his enormous and beefy pecs. The bull was feeling a bit exhausted after this day. "I thrust you. Don't try to run away, remember the last time with the scorpion." The cheetah didn't like to be lectured by a young one who was around half his own age, but the bull was right about the risks of the surrounding.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly holderolder than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The cheetah was terrified and in pain, unable to move and feeling violated. The bull seemed to take pleasure in tormenting the tiny creature, not caring about his fear or discomfort. After what felt like an eternity, the bull finally released the cheetah from his grasp and placed him back in his cage. The cheetah curled into a ball, shaking with fear and unable to comprehend why he was being subjected to such treatment.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furies that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macros soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw pads without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly older than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supplesupple. He was immobilized the same way that te cheetah and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The cheetah was terrified and in pain, unable to move and feeling violated. The bull seemed to take pleasure in tormenting the tiny creature, not caring about his fear or discomfort. After what felt like an eternity, the bull finally released the cheetah from his grasp and placed him back in his cage. The cheetah curled into a ball, shaking with fear and unable to comprehend why he was being subjected to such treatment.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro furiesherbivorous furries that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular herbivorous furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, macrosthe giant herbivores soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's paw padshooves without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro'smicro predators's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. The fact that the macros only needed to eat once or twice a week brought the micros little hope. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro herbivore back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own and de-claw and tooth them.own. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly older than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple. He was immobilized the same way that te cheetah and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro herbivorous furries that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular herbivorous furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, the giant herbivores soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's hooves without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro predators's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro herbivore back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly older than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple. He was immobilized the same way that te cheetah and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The micros twitched and struggled against their restraints, but the bull paid them no attention as he conducted his scientific research. He took notes in a notebook as he studied their physical features, making comparisons and notes on the differences between the two species. The micros, meanwhile, could do nothing but endure their captivity, their bodies on display for the amusement and study of their giant captors. It was another day in the life of a micro, a life filled with fear, captivity, and the constant threat of being used for someone else's amusement or sustenance. As the bull continued his studies, the micros could only hope for some fleeting moment of freedom, some chance to escape their captivity and live free from the ever-present danger of the macro world. But for most, that freedom would never come, and they would be left to live out their days as pets and playthings for their giant masters. A college professor, an old and massive ram approached the younger bull student. The cheetah and the lion were still restrained on the mat as the bull didn't have had the time to place him back in his cage yet. The ram looked at the unlucky felines absent-mindedly before talking to the student. "Seems your work is progressing. I'll have something to ask you. It's about the pardinensis cheetah you own. You already know we don't possess any specimen of this specie in our collection." "Yes, it's a very rare specie, I was lucky to find one in that expedition and as lucky to have succeeded to capture him." "We don't want to take him from you as he is in good hands in your custody. But we would like to examine him and make some samples. Seeds samples would be important, for preservation, you understand, if ever a female specimen got captured one day." The younger bull looked at the ram with a mixture of pride and concern in his eyes. He was proud to own such a rare specimen, but he was also concerned about the well-being of the cheetah. "I understand the importance of preservation, Professor," he replied. "But I am concerned about the safety of my cheetah. I don't want him to be harmed or mistreated in any way." The ram nodded understandingly. "Of course, of course," he said. "We would never mistreat any of our specimens. We are simply interested in studying the cheetah's biology and behavior to better understand its place in the animal kingdom. And as for the samples, we would take great care to ensure that the cheetah was not harmed in any way." The younger bull thought for a moment before nodding his agreement. "Alright, but I want to be there during the examination to make sure my cheetah is okay. And I want him returned to me once the samples are taken." The ram smiled and nodded. "Of course, we wouldn't dream of keeping your cheetah from you. We simply want to learn as much as we can from him." And with that, the arrangements were made for the examination and sample-taking of the rare pardinensis cheetah. The younger bull watched nervously as the ram and other scientists carefully examined his prized possession, taking samples and notes as they went. But in the end, the cheetah was returned unharmed to the younger bull, who breathed a sigh of relief and held his pet close, happy to have him back in his care once again. After returning the lion in his cage, and responding at his angry growling for having been treated this way with a gentle caress on his belly, the bull returned home. He put the cage on the coffee table of his living room in front of his couch and sit onto. He removed his t-shirt revealing his humongous and meaty muscles. Then he opened the cage to let the cheetah the opportunity to move out and stretch his legs on the comparatively vast surface of the table. The cheetah tentatively moved out of the cage, his small form still trembling slightly from the stress of his examination at the college. But when he saw his owner, the younger bull, on the couch, his fear faded away, and he walked over to the giant student, his tiny feet padding softly on the table. The bull smiled down at his pet, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. "You did good today, little one," he said. "I know it was scary, but you were so brave." The cheetah purred softly, his eyes closing in pleasure as the bull scratched at his ears. He leaned into the giant's hand, enjoying the gentle touch and the feeling of being cared for. For a while, the two of them simply sat there, the giant bull and the tiny cheetah, enjoying each other's company. The bull would occasionally scratch at the cheetah's back or belly, causing the small feline to squirm in pleasure. It was a strange existence for the cheetah, living as a pet in a macro world where he was constantly in danger. But for now, at least, he was happy to be safe in the arms of his owner, for the first time in a long time feeling as if he truly belonged somewhere. The bull reclined and placed the cheetah on his enormous and beefy pecs. The bull was feeling a bit exhausted after this day. "I thrust you. Don't try to run away, remember the last time with the scorpion." The cheetah didn't like to be lectured by a young one who was around half his own age, but the bull was right about the risks of the surrounding. The cheetah settled onto the bull's pecs, the gentle rise and fall of his massive chest lulling him into a sense of peace and security. He remembered all too well the last time he had tried to run away. The world was a dangerous place for a micro, and without the protection of his giant owner, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance. But being a pet had its own dangers and difficulties, too. The bull could be playful at times, but there were also moments when he was demanding, and the cheetah had to do what his owner wanted or face punishment. Still, as he lay there on the bull's chest, feeling the warmth of the giant's skin and the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the cheetah felt content. For now, at least, he was safe and cared for, and that was enough. That night as the bull was laying on his wide back on his couch with his cheetah on his pecs as he got into the habit to do so, but he fell asleep some moments later. The cheetah decided to explore his humongous muscular body. After all this bull didn't waste time to do the same with him many time from the moment he captured him. The cheetah carefully made his way down the bull's chest, his small paws silently padding on the giant's skin. He had always been fascinated by his owner's massive muscles, and he wanted to explore every inch of them. As he moved down the bull's body, he felt the rippling muscles shift and move beneath his feet. He couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size and power of the giant bull. He had never seen a macro of such size and strength before, and it was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time. But the cheetah was determined to explore, and he continued to make his way down the bull's body, running his tiny paws over the giant's bulging biceps and massive abs. As he explored, the cheetah felt a sense of freedom and excitement that he had never felt before. For a brief moment, he was able to forget about the dangers of the macro world and simply revel in the sensation of running his paws over the massive muscles of his owner. But eventually, exhaustion overtook the small feline, and he curled up on the bull's stomach, feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that his owner was there to protect him. The bull woke up and started to delicately caress the back of the cheetah. The micro feline stretched out under the huge finger tip. And willing to return the favor he lazily petted the massive mass of firm muscle of the meaty pecs he was laying upon. As he was about twenty time smaller than his younger but gigantic captor the cheetah couldn't rub more than a tiny spot of the bull's vast pectoral muscle and the bull could probably not feel it or barely. Feeling disillusioned the cheetah slipped from the underside of the huge bull fingertip and moved on the bulky surface of the giant's pecs muscle. And he stopped abruptly as he saw his comparatively enormous nipple on the lower side of his manly and beefy pecs. Feeling playful, the cheetah started to rub his comparatively tiny hand on the naked skin hoping it to be more sensitive than the thicker one of the top of the meaty pecs. His tiny claws brushed on the naked skin barely denting it but the areola and the knob of flesh reacted and got firmer under his hands as well the humongous muscle twitched ponderously and shook the cheetah who managed to keep his grip. The bull let out a soft groan as he felt the cheetah's tiny hands rubbing against his nipple. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. He knew he could easily crush the small feline with his massive pecs, but the cheetah seemed content to stay where he was, exploring the surface of the giant's body. As he continued to pet the bull's nipple, the cheetah couldn't help but feel a sense of fascination at the sheer size and power of the muscular giant that held him captive. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time, but the cheetah felt safe in the knowledge that the bull would never intentionally hurt him. For a while longer, the cheetah explored the bull's massive pecs, running his hands over the bulging muscles and feeling the power and heat emanating from the giant's body. And as he did, he couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the sheer scale of everything in the macro world, where even the smallest of things could be impossibly giant compared to his own tiny form. The bull seized the cheetah delicately between his enormous thumb and forefinger and brought the micro anthropomorphic creature closer of his face. "So you like to tickle me ?" He said. He then used his free hand to carefully seize and immobilize one of the legs of the feline and brushed the tip of his huge thumb under the cat's way smaller sole. The cheetah let out a squeak of surprise as the bull lifted him up to his face, but he wasn't afraid. He knew that the bull wouldn't hurt him. But as the giant's thumb brushed against the sole of his foot, the micro feline burst into uproarious laughter, his small body squirming and wriggling in the giant's grip. He had never been tickled before, but he found the sensation both ticklish and exciting, and he couldn't stop laughing and squirming even if he wanted to. For a few moments, the bull continued to tickle the small cat, enjoying the sound of his laughter and the feel of his small body squirming in his hands. But eventually, he relented and set the cheetah back down on his chest, letting him catch his breath. The cheetah curled up on the bull's chest, his small form still trembling from the tickling. But despite the strange and often terrifying world he found himself in, he knew he was safe and loved in the arms of his giant owner. Next day, the father of the bull, a macro anthropomorphic white bull as large than his grey furred son and with a massive musclegut came to visit his son. He is a bit older than the cheetah and both of them had known the world before the rise of the macros. The father seized the cheetah between his humongous callous fingers to examine him as he didn't see a feline from a long time. And after a while both the cheetah and the bull started to chat about the bygone world.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro herbivorous furries that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular herbivorous furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, the giant herbivores soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's hooves without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro predators's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro herbivore back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly older than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple. He was immobilized the same way that te cheetah and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The micros twitched and struggled against their restraints, but the bull paid them no attention as he conducted his scientific research. He took notes in a notebook as he studied their physical features, making comparisons and notes on the differences between the two species. The micros, meanwhile, could do nothing but endure their captivity, their bodies on display for the amusement and study of their giant captors. It was another day in the life of a micro, a life filled with fear, captivity, and the constant threat of being used for someone else's amusement or sustenance. As the bull continued his studies, the micros could only hope for some fleeting moment of freedom, some chance to escape their captivity and live free from the ever-present danger of the macro world. But for most, that freedom would never come, and they would be left to live out their days as pets and playthings for their giant masters. A college professor, an old and massive ram approached the younger bull student. The cheetah and the lion were still restrained on the mat as the bull didn't have had the time to place him back in his cage yet. The ram looked at the unlucky felines absent-mindedly before talking to the student. "Seems your work is progressing. I'll have something to ask you. It's about the pardinensis cheetah you own. You already know we don't possess any specimen of this specie in our collection." "Yes, it's a very rare specie, I was lucky to find one in that expedition and as lucky to have succeeded to capture him." "We don't want to take him from you as he is in good hands in your custody. But we would like to examine him and make some samples. Seeds samples would be important, for preservation, you understand, if ever a female specimen got captured one day." The younger bull looked at the ram with a mixture of pride and concern in his eyes. He was proud to own such a rare specimen, but he was also concerned about the well-being of the cheetah. "I understand the importance of preservation, Professor," he replied. "But I am concerned about the safety of my cheetah. I don't want him to be harmed or mistreated in any way." The ram nodded understandingly. "Of course, of course," he said. "We would never mistreat any of our specimens. We are simply interested in studying the cheetah's biology and behavior to better understand its place in the animal kingdom. And as for the samples, we would take great care to ensure that the cheetah was not harmed in any way." The younger bull thought for a moment before nodding his agreement. "Alright, but I want to be there during the examination to make sure my cheetah is okay. And I want him returned to me once the samples are taken." The ram smiled and nodded. "Of course, we wouldn't dream of keeping your cheetah from you. We simply want to learn as much as we can from him." And with that, the arrangements were made for the examination and sample-taking of the rare pardinensis cheetah. The younger bull watched nervously as the ram and other scientists carefully examined his prized possession, taking samples and notes as they went. But in the end, the cheetah was returned unharmed to the younger bull, who breathed a sigh of relief and held his pet close, happy to have him back in his care once again. After returning the lion in his cage, and responding at his angry growling for having been treated this way with a gentle caress on his belly, the bull returned home. He put the cage on the coffee table of his living room in front of his couch and sit onto. He removed his t-shirt revealing his humongous and meaty muscles. Then he opened the cage to let the cheetah the opportunity to move out and stretch his legs on the comparatively vast surface of the table. The cheetah tentatively moved out of the cage, his small form still trembling slightly from the stress of his examination at the college. But when he saw his owner, the younger bull, on the couch, his fear faded away, and he walked over to the giant student, his tiny feet padding softly on the table. The bull smiled down at his pet, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. "You did good today, little one," he said. "I know it was scary, but you were so brave." The cheetah purred softly, his eyes closing in pleasure as the bull scratched at his ears. He leaned into the giant's hand, enjoying the gentle touch and the feeling of being cared for. For a while, the two of them simply sat there, the giant bull and the tiny cheetah, enjoying each other's company. The bull would occasionally scratch at the cheetah's back or belly, causing the small feline to squirm in pleasure. It was a strange existence for the cheetah, living as a pet in a macro world where he was constantly in danger. But for now, at least, he was happy to be safe in the arms of his owner, for the first time in a long time feeling as if he truly belonged somewhere. The bull reclined and placed the cheetah on his enormous and beefy pecs. The bull was feeling a bit exhausted after this day. "I thrust you. Don't try to run away, remember the last time with the scorpion." The cheetah didn't like to be lectured by a young one who was around half his own age, but the bull was right about the risks of the surrounding. The cheetah settled onto the bull's pecs, the gentle rise and fall of his massive chest lulling him into a sense of peace and security. He remembered all too well the last time he had tried to run away. The world was a dangerous place for a micro, and without the protection of his giant owner, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance. But being a pet had its own dangers and difficulties, too. The bull could be playful at times, but there were also moments when he was demanding, and the cheetah had to do what his owner wanted or face punishment. Still, as he lay there on the bull's chest, feeling the warmth of the giant's skin and the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the cheetah felt content. For now, at least, he was safe and cared for, and that was enough. That night as the bull was laying on his wide back on his couch with his cheetah on his pecs as he got into the habit to do so, but he fell asleep some moments later. The cheetah decided to explore his humongous muscular body. After all this bull didn't waste time to do the same with him many time from the moment he captured him. The cheetah carefully made his way down the bull's chest, his small paws silently padding on the giant's skin. He had always been fascinated by his owner's massive muscles, and he wanted to explore every inch of them. As he moved down the bull's body, he felt the rippling muscles shift and move beneath his feet. He couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size and power of the giant bull. He had never seen a macro of such size and strength before, and it was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time. But the cheetah was determined to explore, and he continued to make his way down the bull's body, running his tiny paws over the giant's bulging biceps and massive abs. As he explored, the cheetah felt a sense of freedom and excitement that he had never felt before. For a brief moment, he was able to forget about the dangers of the macro world and simply revel in the sensation of running his paws over the massive muscles of his owner. But eventually, exhaustion overtook the small feline, and he curled up on the bull's stomach, feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that his owner was there to protect him. The bull woke up and started to delicately caress the back of the cheetah. The micro feline stretched out under the huge finger tip. And willing to return the favor he lazily petted the massive mass of firm muscle of the meaty pecs he was laying upon. As he was about twenty time smaller than his younger but gigantic captor the cheetah couldn't rub more than a tiny spot of the bull's vast pectoral muscle and the bull could probably not feel it or barely. Feeling disillusioned the cheetah slipped from the underside of the huge bull fingertip and moved on the bulky surface of the giant's pecs muscle. And he stopped abruptly as he saw his comparatively enormous nipple on the lower side of his manly and beefy pecs. Feeling playful, the cheetah started to rub his comparatively tiny hand on the naked skin hoping it to be more sensitive than the thicker one of the top of the meaty pecs. His tiny claws brushed on the naked skin barely denting it but the areola and the knob of flesh reacted and got firmer under his hands as well the humongous muscle twitched ponderously and shook the cheetah who managed to keep his grip. The bull let out a soft groan as he felt the cheetah's tiny hands rubbing against his nipple. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. He knew he could easily crush the small feline with his massive pecs, but the cheetah seemed content to stay where he was, exploring the surface of the giant's body. As he continued to pet the bull's nipple, the cheetah couldn't help but feel a sense of fascination at the sheer size and power of the muscular giant that held him captive. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time, but the cheetah felt safe in the knowledge that the bull would never intentionally hurt him. For a while longer, the cheetah explored the bull's massive pecs, running his hands over the bulging muscles and feeling the power and heat emanating from the giant's body. And as he did, he couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the sheer scale of everything in the macro world, where even the smallest of things could be impossibly giant compared to his own tiny form. The bull seized the cheetah delicately between his enormous thumb and forefinger and brought the micro anthropomorphic creature closer of his face. "So you like to tickle me ?" He said. He then used his free hand to carefully seize and immobilize one of the legs of the feline and brushed the tip of his huge thumb under the cat's way smaller sole. The cheetah let out a squeak of surprise as the bull lifted him up to his face, but he wasn't afraid. He knew that the bull wouldn't hurt him. But as the giant's thumb brushed against the sole of his foot, the micro feline burst into uproarious laughter, his small body squirming and wriggling in the giant's grip. He had never been tickled before, but he found the sensation both ticklish and exciting, and he couldn't stop laughing and squirming even if he wanted to. For a few moments, the bull continued to tickle the small cat, enjoying the sound of his laughter and the feel of his small body squirming in his hands. But eventually, he relented and set the cheetah back down on his chest, letting him catch his breath. The cheetah curled up on the bull's chest, his small form still trembling from the tickling. But despite the strange and often terrifying world he found himself in, he knew he was safe and loved in the arms of his giant owner. Next day, the father of the bull, a macro anthropomorphic white bull as large than his grey furred son and with a massive musclegut came to visit his son. He is a bit older than the cheetah and both of them had known the world before the rise of the macros. The father seized the cheetah between his humongous callous fingers to examine him as he didn't see a feline from a long time. And after a while both the cheetah and the bull started to chat about the bygone world.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro herbivorous furries that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular herbivorous furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, the giant herbivores soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's hooves without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro predators's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, but simply because they were powerless to stop them. Even if the macros weren't hungry, they would still find other cruel and unusual things to do with the micros to keep themselves busy. Some micros gathered together and fled to remote locations away from most of the dangers that they faced. This didn't protect them from everything however. No matter where they went, there was always something big that had it's eye on them. Even if there were no macrofurries around, micros found themselves being eaten alive by the animals that had grown on that day as well. It was a dangerous new world if you were a micro. Macros had destroyed almost entirely all civilization as it was known before they had emerged, creating a new world order in the process where micros found themselves close to the bottom of the food chain. The average micro at that stage was lucky to live to see the age of thirty. Several years passed after the rise of the macros, and for the micros, things only became worse. Macros on the other hand had used that time to build the beginnings of fully macro-sized towns and cities where they could live normal lives again. Things started to look almost identical to how they had appeared before. If you had gone to sleep as a micro herbivore back then, and woken up as a macro today, you would notice very little difference at all other than what you ate. Selling micros as food had become a very profitable business venture. Macros ordered micro platters at restaurants and took their time throwing the little ones into their mouths and crunching down on them. The giants could order anything from stir fried micros to ordinary live micros, which was most common. Another profitable venture was selling micros in packs as aphrodisiacs or masturbation enhancers. For most macros, the sensation of a dozen little bodies squirming against their loins was well worth the effort of going out and finding their own micros or buying packs from the store. Most macros bought pre-packed micros to avoid the hassle of having to collect their own. The companies that sold these packs, along with other things, did all of the prep work before hand including removing the micros clothes which made things a whole lot easier for the horny giants. As years went by, this relationship between macros and micros continued to exist. The macro's population increased substantially and so did the micro's despite their circumstances. Both groups became accustomed to their rolls as predator and prey; master and pet; and as an individual and his or her property. A macro entered in his kitchen, he was an enormous and beefy heavily muscled grey bull. This bull was looking to be in his twenties and his exaggeratedly massive muscles rippled with each of his movement. He sat on a chair in front of a table and started to toy with a wiggling tiny form held between two of his humongous fingers. That form was a grey furred anthropomorphic cheetah, slim and muscular and visibly older than the bull. The young bull was visibly delighted by his improvised tiny plaything and took great pleasure to rub the sole of the feet of the cheetah with the tip of one of his enormous fingers. The cheetah wiggled and squirmed, unable to escape from the tight grip of the bull's fingers. "Please... let me go," the cheetah pleaded, his tiny voice barely audible to the giant bull. The bull chuckled darkly. "Why would I let such a cute little thing like you go?" he asked, bringing the tiny cheetah up to his face. He grinned as he saw the fear in the micro's eyes. "You're much more fun to play with than any toy I could buy." The cheetah squirmed again, trying desperately to get free from the bull's grasp. But it was no use. He was too small and too weak to do any damage to the much larger bull. The bull continued to toy with the cheetah for a few more minutes before finally getting bored and putting the tiny creature on the table. The cheetah stayed on the table, trembling and scared, while the bull walked away to attend to other things. This was the life of a micro in the world of macros. A life of constant fear and danger, where their only purpose was to be a plaything or a meal for their giant masters. The next day the bull went to college and he brought the cheetah in a little cage he put in his backpack. The giant bull was studying the feline anatomy and their suppleness in particular. The section of the college building he went was specialized in scientific studies about micro predators and had a whole wings dedicated to keeping and husbandry of several specimens, a true collection of several micros were kept in cages and the bull could have access to several living feline specimen for his studies. The cheetah was his own possession though, as he was a rare specimen of Acinonyx pardinensis he collected during an expedition in a mountain range. In one of the labs of the college he placed the cheetah immobilized on the mat of a science bench. Several rubber tipped pincers were holding the micro in a position displaying his natural feline suppleness. At his side were a male lion, more muscular but visibly not as supple. He was immobilized the same way that te cheetah and the bull was comparing there anatomy and abilities, examining them closely with a magnifying glass and using a rubber tipped tweezers to prob and delicately move their comparatively tiny limbs. The micros twitched and struggled against their restraints, but the bull paid them no attention as he conducted his scientific research. He took notes in a notebook as he studied their physical features, making comparisons and notes on the differences between the two species. The micros, meanwhile, could do nothing but endure their captivity, their bodies on display for the amusement and study of their giant captors. It was another day in the life of a micro, a life filled with fear, captivity, and the constant threat of being used for someone else's amusement or sustenance. As the bull continued his studies, the micros could only hope for some fleeting moment of freedom, some chance to escape their captivity and live free from the ever-present danger of the macro world. But for most, that freedom would never come, and they would be left to live out their days as pets and playthings for their giant masters. A college professor, an old and massive ram approached the younger bull student. The cheetah and the lion were still restrained on the mat as the bull didn't have had the time to place him back in his cage yet. The ram looked at the unlucky felines absent-mindedly before talking to the student. "Seems your work is progressing. I'll have something to ask you. It's about the pardinensis cheetah you own. You already know we don't possess any specimen of this specie in our collection." "Yes, it's a very rare specie, I was lucky to find one in that expedition and as lucky to have succeeded to capture him." "We don't want to take him from you as he is in good hands in your custody. But we would like to examine him and make some samples. Seeds samples would be important, for preservation, you understand, if ever a female specimen got captured one day." The younger bull looked at the ram with a mixture of pride and concern in his eyes. He was proud to own such a rare specimen, but he was also concerned about the well-being of the cheetah. "I understand the importance of preservation, Professor," he replied. "But I am concerned about the safety of my cheetah. I don't want him to be harmed or mistreated in any way." The ram nodded understandingly. "Of course, of course," he said. "We would never mistreat any of our specimens. We are simply interested in studying the cheetah's biology and behavior to better understand its place in the animal kingdom.behavior. And as for the samples, we would take great care to ensure that the cheetah was not harmed in any way." The younger bull thought for a moment before nodding his agreement. "Alright, but I want to be there during the examination to make sure my cheetah is okay. And I want him returned to me once the samples are taken." After returning the lion in his cage, and responding at his angry growling for having been treated this way with a gentle caress on his belly, the bull returned home. He put the cage on the coffee table of his living room in front of his couch and sit onto. He removed his t-shirt revealing his humongous and meaty muscles. Then he opened the cage to let the cheetah the opportunity to move out and stretch his legs on the comparatively vast surface of the table. The cheetah tentatively moved out of the cage, his small form still trembling slightly from the stress of his examination at the college. But when he saw his owner, the younger bull, on the couch, his fear faded away, and he walked over to the giant student, his tiny feet padding softly on the table. The bull smiled down at his pet, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. "You did good today, little one," he said. "I know it was scary, but you were so brave." It was a strange existence for the cheetah, living as a pet in a macro world where he was constantly in danger. But for now, at least, he was happy to be safe in the arms of his owner, for the first time in a long time feeling as if he truly belonged somewhere. The bull reclined and placed the cheetah on his enormous and beefy pecs. The bull was feeling a bit exhausted after this day. "I thrust you. Don't try to run away, remember the last time with the scorpion." The cheetah didn't like to be lectured by a young one who was around half his own age, but the bull was right about the risks of the surrounding. The cheetah settled onto the bull's pecs, the gentle rise and fall of his massive chest lulling him into a sense of peace and security. He remembered all too well the last time he had tried to run away. The world was a dangerous place for a micro, and without the protection of his giant owner, he knew he wouldn't stand a chance. But being a pet had its own dangers and difficulties, too. The bull could be playful at times, but there were also moments when he was demanding, and the cheetah had to do what his owner wanted or face punishment. Still, as he lay there on the bull's chest, feeling the warmth of the giant's skin and the gentle rhythm of his breathing, the cheetah felt content. For now, at least, he was safe and cared for, and that was enough. That night as the bull was laying on his wide back on his couch with his cheetah on his pecs as he got into the habit to do so, but he fell asleep some moments later. The cheetah decided to explore his humongous muscular body. After all this bull didn't waste time to do the same with him many time from the moment he captured him. The cheetah carefully made his way down the bull's chest, his small paws silently padding on the giant's skin. He had always been fascinated by his owner's massive muscles, and he wanted to explore every inch of them. As he moved down the bull's body, he felt the rippling muscles shift and move beneath his feet. He couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size and power of the giant bull. He had never seen a macro of such size and strength before, and it was both awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time. But the cheetah was determined to explore, and he continued to make his way down the bull's body, running his tiny paws over the giant's bulging biceps and massive abs. As he explored, the cheetah felt a sense of freedom and excitement that he had never felt before. For a brief moment, he was able to forget about the dangers of the macro world and simply revel in the sensation of running his paws over the massive muscles of his owner. But eventually, exhaustion overtook the small feline, and he curled up on the bull's stomach, feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that his owner was there to protect him. The bull woke up and started to delicately caress the back of the cheetah. The micro feline stretched out under the huge finger tip. And willing to return the favor he lazily petted the massive mass of firm muscle of the meaty pecs he was laying upon. As he was about twenty time smaller than his younger but gigantic captor the cheetah couldn't rub more than a tiny spot of the bull's vast pectoral muscle and the bull could probably not feel it or barely. Feeling disillusioned the cheetah slipped from the underside of the huge bull fingertip and moved on the bulky surface of the giant's pecs muscle. And he stopped abruptly as he saw his comparatively enormous nipple on the lower side of his manly and beefy pecs. Feeling playful, the cheetah started to rub his comparatively tiny hand on the naked skin hoping it to be more sensitive than the thicker one of the top of the meaty pecs. His tiny claws brushed on the naked skin barely denting it but the areola and the knob of flesh reacted and got firmer under his hands as well the humongous muscle twitched ponderously and shook the cheetah who managed to keep his grip. The bull let out a soft groan as he felt the cheetah's tiny hands rubbing against his nipple. It was a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. He knew he could easily crush the small feline with his massive pecs, but the cheetah seemed content to stay where he was, exploring the surface of the giant's body. As he continued to pet the bull's nipple, the cheetah couldn't help but feel a sense of fascination at the sheer size and power of the muscular giant that held him captive. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time, but the cheetah felt safe in the knowledge that the bull would never intentionally hurt him. For a while longer, the cheetah explored the bull's massive pecs, running his hands over the bulging muscles and feeling the power and heat emanating from the giant's body. And as he did, he couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the sheer scale of everything in the macro world, where even the smallest of things could be impossibly giant compared to his own tiny form. The bull seized the cheetah delicately between his enormous thumb and forefinger and brought the micro anthropomorphic creature closer of his face. "So you like to tickle me ?" He said. He then used his free hand to carefully seize and immobilize one of the legs of the feline and brushed the tip of his huge thumb under the cat's way smaller sole. The cheetah let out a squeak of surprise as the bull lifted him up to his face, but he wasn't afraid. He knew that the bull wouldn't hurt him. But as the giant's thumb brushed against the sole of his foot, the micro feline burst into uproarious laughter, his small body squirming and wriggling in the giant's grip. He had never been tickled before, but he found the sensation both ticklish and exciting, and he couldn't stop laughing and squirming even if he wanted to. For a few moments, the bull continued to tickle the small cat, enjoying the sound of his laughter and the feel of his small body squirming in his hands. But eventually, he relented and set the cheetah back down on his chest, letting him catch his breath. The cheetah curled up on the bull's chest, his small form still trembling from the tickling. But despite the strange and often terrifying world he found himself in, he knew he was safe and loved in the arms of his giant owner. Next day, the father of the bull, a macro anthropomorphic white bull as large than his grey furred son and with a massive musclegut came to visit his son. He is a bit older than the cheetah and both of them had known the world before the rise of the macros. The father seized the cheetah between his humongous callous fingers to examine him as he didn't see a feline from a long time. And after a while both the cheetah and the bull started to chat about the bygone world.

USER: Nobody really knows what caused there to be a size difference between macros and micros. One thing we know is that it didn't always used to be like this. There were no over-sized plants and vegetation that destroyed houses with their roots and vines, there were no insects that could grow to the size of a compact car, and there were definitely no macro herbivorous furries that delighted in hunted down and swallowing their smaller cousins whole. This, however, was all before the rise of the macros. As you can imagine, there was a great deal of confusion when one day regular herbivorous furries, animals, and plants rapidly began to grow to many times their original size. At first, there seemed to be at least some form of cooperation between the two groups as they tried to repair the damage that had been done. However, the giant herbivores soon started to give up on the idea that the two groups could ever be considered equal. This was largely due to the fact that an average adult-sized micro was only about an inch tall when compared to one of the massive giants. Micros were crushed beneath the macro's hooves without a second glance (sometimes intentionally) as the giants trudged about their daily lives. By this point, micro predators's live's were thought of by most giants as entirely insignificant. Micros were snatched up from their homes and devoured, not because they were the only source of food for the macros or even remotely as filling as some of the macro's other options, b...

USER: The father told him how his growth into macro proportion made him involuntarily destroy several buildings and vehicles of the ancient world. His son listened as he was born after the rise of the macros he was already a colossus in a world of giants and was quite impressed to see the cheetah he owned was old enough to have really seen the stories his own father already told him.