part one, "Technically Speaking"

Martin looked up. And up. And up. And up. The glittering golden dome of the Saint Croix University rose into the late afternoon air like the legendary Domus Aureum of Nero's Ancient Rome so many, many centuries ago... Stray wisps of leaves blew carelessly around the young student's feet as he walked up the stairs leading up from the park-like mall outside. Already, the September weather had turned some leaves to a more auburn, red and gold tone; lining the sidewalks and stairs of the Midwestern campus. Martin Tyler was a somewhat odd sight to the area. His East-coast, counter-culture looks made him somewhat distinctive amongst the sea of cardigans and print sweaters. He was tall and athletic; well-toned due to his vigorous regimen of exercise, and had raven-black hair that fell straight and long down to the center of his back. A single earring dotted his left earlobe and his tiny, round shades covered his eyes. It was the eyes that most people noticed. From birth, he'd been set apart from his peers by this rather distinctive feature. One eye was a pure, piercing blue. The other was somewhat ... different. It was red. A deep, nigh-luminescent crimson. His pals had called them 'cop eyes' for not just their color. Back home in Boston, he'd always been the quickest to spot a strolling police cruiser out for a quick bust on his group of underage ... practitioners. Martin fancied himself a magician.

His copy of the "Golden Dawn" tucked neatly between "Comparative Psychology" and "Physics 101", Martin jogged confidently up the long steps to the narrow, student-crammed halls of the domed Classics building. The other guys had gone 'other ways' or decided to 'grow up'. Out of their cabal of 6, he was the only one still practicing. Nearly age 21, Martin was determined to revive magic by the time he was 30. Which brought him to Dr. Fishbourne. The black-haired student walked the narrow halls checking door numbers. A few attractive women (and more than one guy) gave him a look that seemed to be more than 'just idle'. A few of the ladies were cute; some of them quite buxom; but he could always conquer them later. Right now, it was power he craved. And that power lay beyond the smoked-glass door that suddenly faced him as he rounded the corner on the second floor. Carefully, he put out one hand and told his heart to quit trembling. His invitation here was something he'd have killed for. Luckily, he hadn't had to. His simple letter of introduction and explanation of his desires to the famed underground parapsychologist had gained him entry to the college for at least a year of Undergraduate studies. Turning the knob, he opened the door and walked in. The office was small and close, with deep wood accents and dark red tapestries along the walls. An antique roll-top desk stood nearby, adorned with stacks of papers, a castle-in-a-winter-ball-paperweight, numerous pens & pencils, a PC computer, several dictionaries and a skull. He smiled. He had definitely come to the right place... "May I help you...?"

The melodic-yet-stern voice from behind him, startled Martin, making him drop his books. Spinning about he looked directly into the full-figured bosom of the tallest woman he'd ever seen! Standing at least 6'6", she was stunning. Long, reddish-brown hair cascaded around a firmly-lined face down to the mid-point of her shoulders. Her physique was mostly concealed behind her well-tailored suit, but the curves left little the imagination. Her feet were in heels, but they were rather low in comparison to what most professionals were wearing. In short, compared to Martin's own 5'11", she was a giantess! The stranger cleared her throat again and repeated her question. "May I help you? You seem to be lost." Martin shook his head of the awesome vision of overly-ample cleavage and quickly gathered up his books. "Uh, yeah... Listen, I've got an appointment with Dr. Fishbourne, so could you -like- tell him that I'm here?" The woman smiled and put her hands on her full hips. Idly, Martin speculated of how they'd feel under his hands... Well, once he had to power he craved, perhaps he'd find out... "Oh, so you're here to see old Fishbourne are you? And who would you be?" The Bostonian student grinned cockilly. "Why? You free later on tonight?" She laughed and walked past him into the room with a faint air of some far eastern perfume. "I don't think so... After all," she said, sitting down behind the desk, "I don't like to get involved with my students." Martin's jaw dropped. "Uh...." Dr. Fishbourne frowned. "That's disappointing; I'd hoped you'd be a bit more articulate, Mr. Tyler." Martin stammered again, half-recovering from his shock. "Uh... You're ... kidding, right?" Shaking her head slowly, the voluptuous doctor turned to her computer and quickly entered a few keystrokes. "Nope! I'm Dr. 'Emil' Fishbourne. I've found that sexism in the arcane community is still strong enough for me to warrant using a male pseudonym." She glanced at Martin's still-stunned expression. "...and I see that I'm not wrong..." Rising fluidly, she stuck out here hand to the stammering young man. "Doctor Emillia Fishbourne; your teacher, mentor and guide for the next 9 months ... perhaps longer."

Martin took the doctor's hand and shook it limply. His non-concealed disappointment showed deeply on his face. A woman. He couldn't believe it. A woman. He'd bared his soul about magic, the arcane and his own goals to a ... woman. Swallowing he forced a smile. "Well, I hope so... I mean... " Emillia grimaced and sat on the corner of her desk, crossing her legs. "I can see we're in for a long, long time of rudimentary studies." Martin shook his head abruptly. "Hey! I know more than a hundred of your starting students would learn in a year here! I think I'm a bit beyond 'rudimentary'!" Emillia smiled and shook her head. "You misunderstand. Your skills and experience are quite impressive. I've checked all your claims." She held up her hand as Martin was about to speak. "Believe me, I have that kind of skill... "And though you have VERY impressive qualifications, you really only got in here at Saint Croix because of one thing." She leaned forward slowly, forcing her ample bosom closer to him. "Your lust for power..." The air seemed to grow warmer by at least ten degrees as Martin listened to the distant echoes of students leaving the building and sounds of couples walking on the sidewalks outside the professor's office. He swallowed. "Uh, that's ... that's what got me ... in?" Fishbourne nodded. "Mostly. You'd be surprised how few people really have it in them to desire ... power. But first," she said reaching down and opening a drawer on her roll-top, "you have to know how it feels..." The giant woman removed a small object which she palmed deftly and hid from Martin's viewpoint. "That, and you have to learn respect for women ... if you're going to learn from me..." Walking right up to him, she brushed her chest against his and looked down at his face, her eyes challenging his. Reaching past him, she delicately closed the door with a soft latch. "There... Catch."

With that, she tossed the small object up into the air over both their heads and stood back. Startled, Martin backed up into the door and reached frantically for the small thing. Keeping his left hand under it, he managed to grasp it and close his palm about it with reletive simplicity. A tiny shock of electricity ran through his palm upon contact. Opening up his hand he looked at what it was. "A Jumping Jack?" The small child's toy lay in his palm like some unwanted or misunderstood token. The professor merely smiled. "Appropriate, don't you think, to represent the re-training you're going to go through?" Martin shook his head slowly; the tingling had spread through his wrist to envelop his arm and elbow now. "I ... don't understand..." "In your letter. You said that 'Power is like Sex; it's meant to be used...' I couldn't agree more - technically speaking, that is." The tingling in his arm seemed to spread as a dim dizziness washed over Martin's consciousness. "Wha...what's ... happening...?" Emillia smiled and stepped back, slowly unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Martin watched, stunned and absently pocketed the Jack. His vision was swimming. What the hell was happening here? She looked ... different ... somehow. Martin swallowed heavily as Emillia put on a show of slowly undoing each button and stretching luxuriously towards him, tantalizing him with her steadily-exposed cleavage. Wiping a sleeve over his brow, Martin looked confused. The sleeve covered his whole hand. That wasn't right. If anything, it was too short... He looked up at her. She looked ... taller! Realization quickly dawned on him as he looked at his clothes and the room he was trapped in. He was shrinking!!! Without thinking, he tried to turn and run, but Emillia quickly leaned forward and held the door shut with her massive arms. Martin was already a foot shorter than when he'd come in and was looking slightly up at her hanging bosom, still partially clothed. "Now, now, now... You can't leave yet. Where would you go, little-one?" Keeping the door pressed firmly shut, Emillia took her free hand and slowly undid the remainder of her suit-coat and business shirt beneath it. Her large, well-formed breasts swung slowly out over Martin's head like a pair of basket balls. The shrinking man gulped as he looked up, trapped between this giantess and the door. She grinned down at him as his shirt slipped off his shoulders and his leather coat slumped down towards the floor. "Awwwww... You're so cute!"

Martin bristled at the word and struggled to find words to plead with this giantess to change him back... "Dr. Fishbourne; look -I'm sorry I didn't know you were a woman... I ... I didn't mean any offense!" Martin's words nearly choked in his throat as he heard his voice had risen an octave as his vocal chords grew shorter and shorter. His dwindling form could barely hold his clothes to his body as he diminished slowly past 4 feet tall! Emillia looked amused and toyed gently with the shrinking man's hair. "Please! Dr. Fishbourne! I said I'm sorry! Please don't... shrink me!" Martin looked distressed now. Distressed and harmlessly cute to the giant doctor. She laughed at his predicament. "Why look at the little mage now... All shrunken and tiny and... cute! Why if I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't want my teaching...." thought Martin. Out loud, he said, "C'mon! I'm getting too small for my clothes... They're kinda..." "...uncomfortable? I should think so, given that your pants are bunching up in your crotch..." Martin grimaced. It was true. His cock was already getting squished and squeezed remorselessly by his own clothes. If this didn't stop soon... But it wouldn't, would it? That's what she wanted ... for him to undress. Martin swallowed at the thought. His pride was diminishing as fast as the rest of him. His great manly tool was probably no bigger than average now, and here he was faced with this giantess looming over him as he barely came up to her upper thigh! Sighing in resolution, he quickly shucked off his pants and threw his gigantic shirt to one side. Standing naked before the growing woman, Martin blushed. His penis, normally an awesome eleven inches was incredibly dinky now, as was his whole body; muscle tone and all! He looked up helplessly at the giantess over him. She laughed in her deep voice and patted the top of his head. "There, That Wasn't So Bad, Was It?" Her voice was louder in his tiny, fragile ears as he dwindled to the height of her knees... "But This Little Thing..." She brushed one finger within inches of Martin's flaccid cock and smiled. "WHAT GOOD IS THAT...?" Martin continued getting smaller as Dr. Fishbourne stood up and removed the rest of her clothing. he thought,