HOUSTON?  I  HAVE  A  SMALL  PROBLEM!  by Carycomic  

Author's note: if you can beta read this, I would deeply appreciate it, AF.   

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It began as just another top-secret test flight.  It would not end as such.   For  a year now, all other astronaut-candidates and I had been undergoing a form of drug-induced hypnotherapy.    The drugs had been distilled from genetically-engineered  mushrooms,  with the intention of letting us access some of the normally-unused 90% of the human mind!  But, of course, without becoming addicted.   Why, you ask?  Because, NASA wanted to see if it was possible to pilot a space shuttle, VIA TELEPATHY!!

 I was the one who turned out to have the most-accessible psychic power.    A computer chip was surgically implanted in my brain that would allow me to telepathically interface with the shuttle's flight computer, and the Mission Control mainframe, once I entered the auto-hypnotic state.    The rocket took off on schedule.   The shuttle separation went as planned.   And, once I had fully cleared Earth's gravitational field,  I put myself in the required trance, just as I had done in so many practice sessions 

IT  WORKED!!   I  singlehandedly flew the shuttle to the moon, and circled it, in 25% less time than any of the manned Apollo missions!    Then, it happened.  At T-plus five days and thirteen hours,  the shuttle was punctured by a swarm of micrometeorites that broke my telepathic connection to Houston!   The flight computer immediately gave the code word for emergency wake-up.    Little good it did me.  The shuttle's radio had been Swiss-cheesed,  as well.   I was ultimately forced to ditch the shuttle in the southern North Atlantic, somewhere between Miami and Bermuda.  I don't know exactly where, because the navigational equipment was going haywire, by this point.

 On the way in,  the G-forces were excruciating.  I felt as heavy as King Kong!    And, the impact of ditching stunned me so tremendously, I couldn't unbuckle the safety harness with any dexterity.  So, I slipped  out of the harness like a greased limbo dancer.  If only the significance of that had registered at the time!   But, the shuttle was sinking fast, and I had to get that self-inflating life raft in the water, even faster.  In less than five minutes,  the shuttle had sunk beneath the waves.

 Maybe,  it was the emotional stress.  Maybe, it was an after-effect of the G-forces on the cybertelepathy chip.  Or, maybe, a little bit of both.    In any case, I developed such a splitting headache that I passed out!  When I woke up,  I could hear music.  Latin-sounding music!    I looked over the side of the raft.  Believe it, or not;  the raft had drifted its way right to an ocean liner!    Well, it was certainly as big as an ocean liner.  The anchor chain was definitely massive.<p> I called up to whomever might be on watch, but the music was apparently drowning out my voice.   So,  I felt I had no other choice.  I climbed the anchor chain like Tarzan.  It seemed like hours before I climbed over the side and on to the bow.   That''s when it occurred to me that I might still be out cold and having a nightmare.   Because, that Latin-sounding music was coming from a portable radio as that looked as BIG AS A TIMES SQUARE BILLBOARD!   And, listening to that radio?  A  sunbathing giantess with long dark hair; lovely long legs;  and, a just-right set of breasts   All that, and other attributes,  were procatively revealed by the most barely-legal-sized white bikini I have ever seen!

 What's more,  this giantess wasn't alone.   There  was a blue-eyd blonde with short hair, and a skimpy blue bikini sitting next to her.  That's when I pinched myself, to see if I was really dreaming.   The yelp I uttered proved I wasn't.   So, there were only two other explanations I could think of.   Either, I had crash-landed off the coast of a real-life "Land of the Giants."   Or,  I had somehow shrunk!   The latter hypothesis was confirmed by a sudden shout  from a definitely male voice, with a Spanish accent.

 "Oye!  Carmen!  Miranda!  Down below!  Pronto!  I got customers coming."    I didn't dare let this opportunity slip away!  I ran as fast as I could, to the side of the radio, as the brunette bent down to turn it off.   I jumped up and down, waving my arms, just praying she would see me.  My prayer was answered!  As she sat back up, from clicking the offswitch, she saw me and gasped!  She lowered her sunglasses, and shook her head.  But, I was still there.   So, she sprang from her lounge chair, picked up the handle of the radio with her left hand, and picked up me with her right!   The blonde, meanwhile, had gathered up the rest of the sunbathing supplies.<p> "Carmen?  Venga!  Mas rapido, por favor!"     The brunette hurried after the blonde (who, by process of elimination, could only be Miranda).  When they got to their cabin,  Carmen hissed at her room mate.  Then, she showed me to her.  Miranda became wider-eyed with astonishment than an anime' character!  That's when I resorted to my limited amount of Spanish.

 "Hola, senoritas.  Hablas ustedes ingles?"   They both nodded.   Then, they asked who I was.   Not wanting to violate national security,  I told them a slightly edited version of the truth involving a non-existent weather satellite.    Then, it was my turn.  I asked them the name of the ship, and the name of its captain.  Miranda smiled.

 "Is no ship.  Is the cabin cruiser of our employer,  Don Simon Suarez of Bogota.   And, he is about to make his latest deal."   I frowned.  Bogota?  Latest deal?   I looked at Carmen, and she seemed to read my mind.

 "Si,  little one.  He sells the cocaina.   But, unfortunately, he also uses it.  And, when he is high, he is...que dice'?   Limp like the noodle?  That is why Miranda and I are glad you are here."    Whereupon, the two bikini-clad giantesses ripped my space suit to shreds and through it out the nearest porthole!   They planned to hold me captive for the rest of my life.  A shrunken naked man that they could use as a living sex toy whenever Don Simon was limp like the noodle.      TO  BE  CONTINUED?