This is taking way too long.

Justin gave another impatient glance at the clock hanging from the wall behind the counter. It's face, framed with a golden rim, read 7:45. That would only give him about ten minutes. His foot tapped hastily to faint sound of the drum beat emanating from the speaker overhead, the crisp blaring of a trumpet guiding it in an energetic, catchy direction.

"Is that a six?" The young female clerk asked in an unquestioning manner. "And thirty-five cents is your change. You have a nice day, sir."

The balding patron exited the line with his bottled water and pastry, the clinging of thin metals echoing in his wake. Justin took two steps forward. Only one more person separated him from his morning coffee. Breathing in the warm aroma of freshly risen yeast, he let out an annoyed sigh as he realized he would yet again be sprinting the last three blocks of his daily trek. It was a necessary inconvenience, though. After all, there was no way Justin could get through that first hour without a caffeine buzz.

"Thank you very much, sir!" The cheery cashier spoke over the muffled ringing of change.

Finally, Justin moved to the front of the line. A brilliant smile, illuminated by shimmering yellow-green eyes greeted him as he stepped to the rose quartz counter top.

"Good morning and welcome to Maxine's Coffee House! What can I do for you today, sir?"

The attendant leaned forward as she addressed Justin, causing the ends of her wavy, shoulder length flaxen locks to tickle the dark green fabric of her uniform top. Her elbows anchored, tanned forearms crossed, on the cluttered granite surface dividing her from the customers, she threw him a seductive wink. On a whim, Justin looked down at the varnished expanse, taking note of all the candy bars, mints, and assorted sweets laying about. What really caught his eye, however, was a transparent jar labeled with a torn, taped piece of notebook paper, the word 'TIPS!' written on it in frilly purple lettering. Various coins and paper monies laid in the depths of its belly, and its top was slit vertically down its center. Justin turned his gaze back to the blond vixen watching him intently, her face ripe with hope. It was with an indignant expression that he shook his head in the negative.

"Could you just get me a medium Caffé Latte," Justin paused. His vision grazed the sandwiched cleavage of the clerks well endowed breasts, exposed by her partially undone button down work shirt, to read her bronze name tag, "Jo Ann."

Jo Ann pursed her plush cherry blossom-glazed lips into a full pout. Raising herself to an upright position, her upturned nose came just below level with Justin's. She let out an aggravated hum as she pivoted abruptly, putting her back to him. He dug out a five dollar bill whilst the perturbed attendant went about preparing his beverage. The clamoring of folding Styrofoam and all too audible grumblings from Jo Ann clued him in to the recklessness with which she was working. A moment later, she faced him once again, latte in hand.

"Here." Jo Ann pronounced irascibly before slamming the cup onto the counter, allowing a small portion of it's contents to spill. "One dollar and seventy-five cents."

Without another word, Justin handed Jo Ann the bill in his hand, and she promptly returned his change. He grabbed the ruffled, flimsy container from the counter top.

Turning to leave his position at the front of the line, Justin anxiously peeked over his shoulder. The clock displayed 7:49. He tilted his head toward the double-windowed wall which housed the lone gateway between the coffee house and the outside world. Through the amber rays refracting passed the glass windows and door, Justin paid witness to hordes of men and women in various business attire scurrying to and fro across the cement sidewalks. Briefly, he examined his own dress, a plain white t-shirt and roughed-up jeans, and nodded determinedly. He began to stride toward the seating area.

"Excuse me!" An irked tone accompanied the sweetly feminine voice. "There's someone standing here, in case you didn't notice."

It was then that Justin noticed the tip of his nose floated inches from making contact with the top of a smoothly rounded, fully exposed forehead. Draping to the sides of its pristinely tea rose skin were twin still life cascades of dusky strands, divided in perfect symmetry by a part at their shared beginning. The harmonious fragrance of jasmine rose decadently to Justin's thin nose. Bewildered, the twenty-one year old man retracted his step.

"Er, sorry about that, miss."

"You really ought to be." The woman before Justin continued to berate him. "I mean, first you just stand in my way like there isn't a line here, then you try to walk right through me. What's your problem, anyway?"

Justin angled his chin downward, taking in the vision in front of him. At 6'1", this had become common when he looked over women. Flaring irises of teal were staring back up at him, the slightest hint of dark violet painted on her blinking lids. The bridge of her cutely rounded nose supported silver, oval rimmed glasses. Her full, deep lips, glossed in vermilion, were curled into a scowl, taking her defined cheek bones with them. She looked to be a little older than Justin, but not by much.

"Well, uh, you see I-I was kinda in a hurry and..."

Justin's nervous comment got a small, but intoxicating giggle out of the offended stranger. "Well, you certainly act differently than most people when they're in a rush."

"I guess so." Justin exhaled relief. "Again, I'm really sorry, ma'am."

"Call me Arrie."

"Alright, Arrie." Justin obliged. "I'm Justin. Look, I really didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry about it, Justin." Arrie wore an apologetic smile as she dismissed the situation. "You just caught me at a bad time, is all. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Huh? Oh, right!"

Sidestepping out of the way, Justin said his goodbye and hurried to a small table nearby. As he sat down, he admired the Autumn dawn shinning into the quaint cafe. The morning sunlight bounced from the flat gray walls and merged with dim candlelight to provide the large room with relaxed lighting. A buoyant change in tempo vaguely registered in his ear, this one lead by the gentle tones of a piano. The pale wailings of an alto saxophone and a touch of breezy flute completed the invisible trio. Contrary to his rushing desires, Justin couldn't help but sit and take in the placid ambiance surrounding him.

Any thoughts Justin might have been having were interrupted as Arrie crossed his line of sight, coffee in hand. The black tank top she wore, lined in pink at its base, collar, and sleeveless arm openings, revealed a quarter of her petite abdomen. It also hugged her bust, stressing the size of her ample bosoms. Pools of dark brunet gathered atop either side of her chest while another silken torrent of hair flowed down her back, just passing her shoulder blades. The hems of her jet black jean shorts barely touched the mid-point of her slender thighs, elongating her already quite lengthy legs. Her countenance was much more friendly than a few moments prior. She raised the arm of her free hand and waved to him softly with her fingers, their nails painted dark red. A grin, goofy in nature, struck Justin's face in response. Arrie seated herself a couple of tables away. Justin contemplated a seat change when he conferred with the wall clock; 7:52.

Damn! Only three minutes to make a play. Justin thought to himself. Not even silk is that smooth.

Resigned to simply finish his drink and go, Justin downed the cooled latte, which carried something of a sour aftertaste, in record time. He stood from his chair, picked up his empty cup, and headed for the restrooms on the other side of the room. A feeling of queasiness started to build in his stomach as he journeyed, but he thought nothing of it. The unpleasantness elevated to his chest as he threw his container into the bathroom's wastebasket, though he still continued to play it off as nothing. After relieving himself, however, the uneasiness within him became too much to ignore. He didn't even have time zip up his jeans. A shuddering chill froze the blood in his veins. An intense aching lingered mercilessly in his brain. His ears crackled like boiling grease, and his vision blurred. His muscles trembled with an uncontrollable violence. Staggering forward, he capsized to his right and bashed his elbow painfully into one of the many concrete brick aligning the bathroom walls. The agonizing man made a desperate dive for the door, his weight pushing it ajar as he collapsed onto his knees, and then his stomach.

Oddly enough, Justin's anguish seemed to subside with his horizontal posture. A calming affect enveloped his entire being as he laid there, and his muscles relaxed. Then, all sound ceased. On his taste buds, a strong, almost repugnantly chalky taste replaced the sourness from the latte. He felt unforgiving denim rub brutally against his dragging legs. The soothing fabric of his t-shirt began to tickle his arms and neck as their skin raced across its sleeves and collar respectively. His eyes met darkness as his head slipped past an ever-loosening collar, brushing the short raven fibers attached to the back of his scalp as he went. A weightless sensation filled his insides with each inhalation as his body continued to implode upon itself.

Once all the movement finally stopped, Justin attempted to reattain his bearings. A thick sheet sat on top of his back. He was in a very shadowy white cave, its ceiling slowly collapsing. Behind him, Justin spotted scant traces of florescent lighting, much like that used in the restroom he had just been in. He reversed his position and crawled toward the opening. As his head poked outside, a musty smell entered his lungs. Giving a small cough, Justin pulled the rest of himself out and examined his new location. Shock set in soon after. He was still in the bathroom, except that it was much, much larger than he remembered. The porcelain sinks and urinals floated from the heavens, scrapping the boxed-in skies at least four stories above. In the distance, a single green stall put their elevations to shame.

In the other direction, Justin saw the gargantuan partition that he had once been able to command with little to no effort. Such a thing would not be possible now, but, as luck would have it, the top of his shirt had wedged itself into the path of the closing door. There was a tiny crack to slip through. Justin walked across his shirt, heading for the slim entryway. He had to suck in his trim gut, but he was able to creep by with little trouble.

His bare feet touched down onto the ceramic tiles of the cafe's main room, and the gelid surface was unkind to Justin's soles. The air conditioner blew chilling streams of wind down on his light cocoa skin. Putting the cold to the back of his mind, he scanned the area. Not a soul was present, not even Jo Ann.

"That manipulative bitch must be on her break," Justin muttered to himself, "and her period."

His sight fell onto the clock once again. It read 7:57.

A funny thought entered Justin's mind. Damn, man! I should have left two minutes ago. Boss is gonna be pissed.

Shrugging his shoulders, Justin continued to look around. A new tune playing over the house system, this one dictated by the tense strums of an acoustic guitar, and accompanied by bongos grasped his attention. He sought out and quite easily found the vacant stage at the rear of the cafe nearby. A daunting violet curtain hung from on high, encompassing the circled platform, appearing to Justin as though someone had stacked the ancient Roman Colosseum on top of itself and done some kinky redecorating. He paced towards it quickly, the bottoms of his feet almost sticking to the ground with each connection. As he arrived, he immediately put his back to the rung which raised the terrace, knowing that it was about six inches high. The top of his head was an inch shorter.

Before Justin could dwell on this revelation, however, he was interrupted by the squeal of one of the two bathroom doors opening. Apparently he wasn't alone after all. He swiveled around, and found himself staring at an enormous pair of hot pink summer sandals, feet included. The nails on the toes were painted dark red. Not even bothering to look up, Justin's first reaction was to run in the projected path of the gigantic tootsies and shout for their owner's attention. However, he simply couldn't find his voice as the titanic legs in front of him began to take stride.

The thick slapping of sandal bottoms on the tiled floor emitted an intense echo to Justin's ear drums. The speed at which the massive, shapely shins working them plowed through the air frightened him beyond imagination. Above, matching boulders of perfectly unified bone and flesh, carved delicately and definitively, folded and straightened to pull the dual towers forward. As his gaze carried up fit, strong thighs and to jet black hems, he realized something.

He was in the way.

Awe gave way to fright. Justin sprinted in the opposite direction of the giant lumbering after him. The minute rumbling of the ground which followed each Brobdingnagian footfall served as a minor problem, but he was able to keep his balance well enough. He could feel her gaining, though, and gaining fast. A dark shadow befell him as the quakes built momentum. Her right foot landed forcefully beside him, throwing a weak puff of air into Justin. He halted, and couldn't help but stare at the bulge of her ankle. It was as big as his head! Regaining his wits, he ducked just as her left shoe swung over him. It landed several yards ahead, and the other foot leap frogged its landing zone with impressively graceful ease.

Justin stood in stunned silence for a moment. Then he began to cackle.

That laughter changed into a shriek as the giantess turned around. Toes stretching the length of his arms lead the second charge after Justin. The sudden shifting of fate was too much for him in his current state. He couldn't run. He couldn't scream. He couldn't turn away. It was all he could do to lay down and curl up into a fetal ball, waiting for the end to come. After a few steps, her right foot lifted, and made its way downward to Justin. It fell just short. Five giant, well manicured, digits flexed in perfect unison inches from Justin's feeble body. Her left sandal set down beside its counterpart.

"You can't be done already." A stentorian girlish voice moaned half-heartedly from the sky. "I barely got to have any fun with you."

Not daring to uncoil his body, Justin craned his neck from the side to investigate the source of his terror. Arrie's mischievous smirk welcomed the attention. Without warning, her knee caps fell over upon themselves, leaving her thighs hanging over her calves and her knees hovering over tiny Justin. Her proportionately dainty right hand swooped for him. Ducking his head within the folds of his clutched arms, he could feel Arrie's index finger pressing gently into his neck, and her thumb into his shins. Her padded prints contorted to notches of his spine and the edge of his tibia as she plucked him from the floor. A slight case of motion sickness came and went as she stood to her full height, lifting him to her face. He shivered in fear.

"Cut that out." Arrie ordered tenderly. "You're going to be fine."

Justin peeked at the visage of the giant beauty holding him between her fingers. She wore a considerate smile. Her concerned, but gleeful blue-green eyes lulled his worries, even as he felt himself being drawn to her pouty red lips. The supple pair puckered in anticipation of his arrival. Warm, inviting breath rained down from her nostrils as he made contact with the kiss. The embrace of rubbery cartillage, which covered his entire curled form, melted away any fears remaining within Justin. She held him there for a minute before pulling him away. Her joyous giggle filled the air as she saw the imprint left by her lipstick smothered all over him.

Without saying another word, Arrie lowered Justin to her side. Her free hand worked the zipper on a purse which hung by a spaghetti strap from her shoulder, creating an entrance for him. As he descended into the dark confines of the hand bag, Justin gave one last glance at the clock on the wall behind the counter. The time was 8:01.

"Well, it's official now." Justin whispered to himself. "I'm late for work."

A turbid shard of luminosity leaked though the inch long breach in the retractable canopy, piercing the besieging lightlessness of the purse's inner dwellings. The tranquil oscillations of his darkened recesses did little to calm the antsy little man. His bare bottom rasped uncomfortably against the leathery concave floor as he leaned his back on a standing cylindrical mast of lipstick, the rounded side of its cold metal casing running even with the flow of his vertebrae. The balmy air and smell of murky lavender weighed heavily on his eye lids. Subconsciously, his upper incisors raked across the top of his tongue. Justin's mind continued to wander in the blackness, much as it had for the last twenty minutes.

Gosh damned latte! I should be at work right now, getting shot down by Vicki again, or getting ripped into by bossman for running my machine too slow. But no, here I am, sitting inside the purse of a total stranger. INSIDE a purse, for Christ's sake! My tongue feels like it just used a blackboard eraser as an ice cream cone. And to top it all off, I'm tired as hell, but I can't even doze off because of this damned caffeine buzz. Stupid, stupid latte!

The rhythmic swaying of Justin's world came to an abrupt stop. Gravity pulled at him lightly, causing his weight to sink into the flimsy ground. Then, his stomach seemed to fly into his throat, and his meager substance was yanked in the opposite direction. The slumped canvas beneath him flattened gradually, its base hardening all the while. A roaring zip signaled the opening of the once aphotic sky, rattling Justin to his core.

Blinding white bombarded Justin's eyes from aloft with extreme ferocity. He shielded them from the bright onslaught with interlocking forearms. A pair of easeful conjoined serpents, the lower one slightly longer, slithered across his exposed chest. A thick trunk of tissue and muscle brushed gently against his shoulder blades. Slight pressure surrounded his body, and he involuntarily ascended from the feminine cave.

As his feet lightly touched down onto smooth wooden land, Justin's sight began to return to him. The encumbrance of mild force which had enveloped him just seconds prior released itself from his upper body, uncomfortably cooling the heated spots where the massive digits responsible had been clamped. A blur of light pink, with five same colored streaks trailing behind it, quickly withdrew from his position, and set itself down several feet in front of him. Justin wiped his eyes with his fists, and refocused himself.

"Where am I?"

"You're home." A bubbly thunder announced from on high. "More accurately, you're in the kitchen."

Justin stared in awe at the vertical landscape of toned epidermal glory that stood before him as his view became less clouded. Following the nearly giddy voice which was apparently charged with fielding his questions, he tilted his gaze upward. A wide halo of fuchsia cut the strong abdominal wall short, leading into the atramentous waters of cotton fabric. Two great waves, their amplitudes only a little shorter than Justin, stood frozen in time beside each other amidst the higher seas, their perky crests in proper wavelength with one another. The underside of an adorably annular chin was next to catch his attention. Finally, in the distant skies, he found that the radiant features of Arrie's pleasant expression reciprocated his interest.

"I hope the ride wasn't too rough. I was extra careful, you know."

Instinctively, Justin took a step backward, away from the intimidating size of Arrie. His heart jumped as his lower back ruffled a solid net of plastic behind him. Spinning around impetuously, he came chest to crust with a seemingly endless row of brown dividers encased in a clear bag. Justin backed away again, taking in the monstrous loaf.

Shit, I could tunnel through this thing. Justin theorized. Maybe.

Justin's concentration shifted to the rest of his environs. Far off to his right, beige curtains glowed as they sheltered the room from the outside world. Beneath them, a silver faucet glistened with the scintilla of light to break into the room as it loomed mightily over a deep argent canyon. Overhead, a series of cabinets the size of two-story buildings clung to the white wall, threatening to topple onto him at any moment. To his right, a vast, barren plane of oak stretched for an eternity, separating Justin from a square black monolith over twice his own height. He turned to face Arrie, a look of pure fright writ upon his face.

"W-what did you do to me?" Justin quavered.

Arrie frowned at the accusing query. "Me? What makes you think I had anything to do with this?"

"You tried to step on me." Justin blurted out.

Arrie crossed her arms just below her chest. Her succulent lower lip pinned its counterpart firmly as she rolled her eyes at her diminutive prosecutor.

"Yeah, and I would have succeeded, too, if it hadn't been for your brilliant huddle into a ball and wait strategy." Arrie's tone was heavy with sarcasm. "Besides, you tried to step on me first."

"What?" Justin paused. "But I thought you told me not to worry about that."

"So don't." Arrie replied matter-of-factly. "What you should be worrying about is clothes."

"Clothes?"

"Well, I guess I don't mind you going au naturel, if you insist." As she spoke, Arrie's right hand stealthily crept behind the overwhelmed little man. She brought the tips of her thumb and index finger together, pinching the taut right cheek of his tiny buttocks. Justin gave a startled yelp in response.

Suddenly aware of his nudity, both of Justin's hands lunged for his crotch. "No! Uh, I mean, do you think you could help me find something to wear, Arrie?"

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Modesty."

"Thanks." Justin sighed in relief. The gentle hum emitted by the refrigerator on the other side of the room began to repose his excited brain. In this newly relaxed state, another thought came to him. "Well, if you didn't do this to me, then why did you take me here?"

"You know, you ask a lot of questions." Arrie stated. "No more."

"Huh?"

Arrie set her mammoth arms onto the counter top, her hands folded atop of one another, directly before Justin. Her upper half leaned down in accompaniment, avalanching her gargantuan beauty toward him at an accelerated rate. Her chin rested gracefully on exposed knuckles, putting her vibrant verdigris oculars, their gleam emphasized by the lenses of her thin spectacles, just above level with his head. Swarthy filaments piled by the thousands on either side of her gargantuan face, their ends scattering madly in all directions. A devilish smile crossed her lips.

"I think I'll be the only one asking questions from now on."

"But how am I going to..."

Justin's words were stopped as a prodigious finger pressed itself tenderly into his face, effectively covering his eyes, nose, and mouth.

"No. More. Questions." Arrie weakly tapped her pliable appendage into Justin's confused visage with each playful word. The last dab, however, carried enough power to knock him on his posterior, inciting a giggle from Arrie.

"Fine." Justin agreed in annoyance. He pulled himself to his feet, eager to change the subject. "Nice place, by the way."

"Why, thank you." Arrie was cordial in her response. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Could you get me some water, please?" Justin requested. "I got this horrible taste in my mouth, and I can't get it out."

Justin was quickly snatched up in Arrie's scooping palm. She straightened her back, carrying him parallel with her scowling countenance as it rose. Her eyes scrutinized him as he sat stunned in the center of her hand.

"Didn't we just agree that you wouldn't be asking any more questions?" Arrie interrogated seriously. "Now, what should I do to make sure you get the message this time?"

Justin's world spun as the living platform underneath him tilted away from Arrie. He rolled clumsily onto her bridged fingers, which parted upon his arrival. His torso laid on the central phalange of her middle finger, his legs and arms hanging over its sides. A log of flesh crashed softly into the small of his back, and he soon found himself flipping over. Now on his spine, two tentacles held him in place, a long one on his chest and a burly one on his thighs. Arrie's stout thumb maneuvered under his legs and flicked up. Justin was sent barreling back to his starting position. He felt another collision to his back, this one from the other side, and swiftly rotated in the opposite direction.

Arrie twirled Justin between her fingers for a good while, exercising incredible dexterity. The index finger on her free hand pressed against her lips as she feigned contemplation. She experimented with her pacing, alternating high and low speeds without pattern. She twisted her wrist back and forth as she toyed with him, serving to further disorient Justin. Occasionally, she brought the occupied digits closer to her face, studying his expression. It was always filled with alarm, but never anguish. She would then send the extremity back to its rightful place, a smug mien overtaking her facial features every time.

Finally, Arrie halted Justin's rotisserie. "So, have you thought about what I should do to you?"

"Isn't this-" Justin stopped in mid-sentence. "This is enough, I think."

"Well, it sounds like you've figured things out." Arrie determined. She set him back onto the counter. "I won't go so easy on you next time, though."

Justin grimaced at this proclamation.

"So what was it you wanted again?" Arrie asked kindly.

"I could really use some water."

"Coming right up!"

Arrie walked across the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She reached in and pulled out a bottled water. As she returned to Justin, Arrie unscrewed the cap and poured it full of water. He accepted the great bowl graciously with both hands as she handed it to him. She set the bottle down beside him, and he glowered as he noticed it was a few inches taller than him. He raised the cap to his lips, and chugged its contents as excess water spilled over him.

"Bleck!" Justin exclaimed. "That just made it worse."

"What did you eat?" Arrie questioned.

"Nothing. All I had this morning was that sour latte."

"Sour latte?" Arrie wondered aloud. "Is that what made you rush to the bathroom so fast?"

"I didn't rush," Justin corrected, "and I don't know."

"That clerk seemed pretty pissed at you." Arrie continued. "Do you think she put something in your drink?"

"I can't think of anything that tastes like-" a proverbial ton of bricks struck Justin before he could finish. "You don't think she put something in my latte that did this to me, do you?"

Arrie nodded and moved her lips to speak. However, the emergence of an impish grin blocked any words from exiting her mouth. Justin looked at her, befuddled, for a minute before he realized his mistake.

"Shit!"

Justin darted for the open expanse opposite the sink, Arrie's right hand giving him chase.

The periwinkle suede landing rankled Justin's uncovered soles as he paced frenetically back and forth along the cushioned archipelago's central isle. Glancing nervously over the light blue mounded arm rest, which stood slightly taller than himself, his eyes fell onto the digital clock atop the high shelf hanging on the far wall. The display read 8:08 P.M. in bright red numbering.

"Four hours?!" Justin shouted in exasperation. "Where the hell is she?!"

Justin's restless legs carried him hurriedly toward the bulky structure of a cell phone. Laying on its flat bottom, its longer end perpendicular to the mountainous wall mimicking the dull color of the ground beneath his feet, the phone came up to his mid-shin. A pale yellow post-it note stuck atop the communicator garnered his attention, much as it had the first fifteen times he had made this approach. Once again, he read the message written in girly cursive onto the up-curling paper.

Dearest Justin,

Here's my number. Like I told you before I left, call me if you want anything. I'll be home as soon as I can, so don't fret too much. Remember to be a good boy and follow the rules.

1-867-5308

Love,
Arrie

Arrie's name was surrounded by the faded imprint of two opulent lips dripping with rose.

A thin smile spread across Justin's face as he shook his head. He put the tall barrier adjacent to his target to his back, bending at the knees as his rough hands slipped themselves palms up into the slim crack separating two equal levels of gray. With his perfect positioning, he began to move into a standing position, pushing his arms skyward in an effort to relieve his calves of some of the pressure of the phone's weight. Stinky, salty liquid beaded down his sloped forehead and his biceps ached as his legs strained to straighten.

The top end of the cell phone opened slowly, Justin not once stopping to gauge his progress. That proved to be a mistake, for once it passed the mid-point of it's journey, the thick block of phone flung itself over, its momentum combined with his own strength shooting him over it with a forward somersault. As he landed, the back of his head crashed into its digital screen with enough force to crack it. The crackling of crumbling paper beneath the descending layer of plastic was raucous, yet vaguely noticeable to the dazed young man trying to regain his bearings. Standing up, he shrugged off his throbbing headache and stretched relief into his complaining muscles.

"Why didn't I get a razor?" Justin questioned in annoyance.

Stumbling a little, Justin wandered back to the bottom portion of the communication device. Gazing upon the damaged display opposite it, he saw ripples run through a picture of himself sitting with arms crossed triumphantly on the hood of a souped up, flaming red 1974 Dodge Charger, a blotch the size of his head obstructing his photographed copy's neck and lower face. The remaining eyes glared accusingly at him as he cringed an apology. Returning to the task at hand, he reached for the panel of the phone, ready to enter in Arrie's number into the machine. However, he stayed the pattern after depressing the seven button, instead pushing down the red cancel key.

She's just fuckin' with you again, man. Justin convinced himself. Don't let her see you sweat.

Justin leaned back against the towering wall of couch behind him, its tiny fibers itched his brown, exposed skin while his shoulder blades squirmed to find comfort. He tilted his head upward, puffing a deep, frustrated exhale into the quiet air. Bringing his chin down, he spied a plain white t-shirt bunched up with worn, ripped jeans laying in a far corner of the room.

At least she thought to grab my clothes.

His view continued to scope around the living room, until Justin's vision caught the bright lights of the television, which contradicted the darkness of the sunless sky seeping into the area through its only window. Tired of silence, he roamed the cushion to its ledge, where a black rectangular obelisk waited for him, its length pointed at the cinema-sized picture of the t.v. Studying the console of the remote control now in front of him, it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. His hand lowered onto the rubber button marked mute, and the full weight of his arm soon followed. A cacophony of shrill voices and laugh tracks blared around the room.

Justin sat at the edge of the seat, his legs hanging over its rounded lip yards away from the beige carpet below. The program on the t.v., another sitcom cookie straight from the cutter, held his attention for but the briefest of moments. Glancing at a downward angle, he noticed a piece of paper rested on the coffee table before him. It was THAT piece of paper, the same one Arrie had printed from her computer that very morning. Faintly legible in the glow of the television, he reviewed the contents of the file.

The House Rules

The following rules and regulations are to be adhered to by those present in this apartment of a stature of eighteen inches or shorter.

Justin rolled his eyes upon reading the disclaimer. "Who knows, you might grow a bit." Justin mocked Arrie's voice.

1. Absolutely no questions!
2. Silverware and proper etiquette must be used at the dinner table at all times.
3. The floor is lava!!!
4. Bed time is promptly at nine o'clock P.M.
5. Don't forget to tell your hostess how beautiful she is.

A grimace was on Justin's face as he reread these rules. Still, a shit-eating grin replaced it as he recalled his involvement in the creation of rule number two the previous day.

--------------------------------------------------

Justin was tripped up as a pliable log of flesh and bone plowed into his right shin, the joints of the great digit curling possessively around its catch. Before he could register this entrapment, his left leg pumped from its landing into the next stride of his frantic sprint, resulting in his forward momentum carrying him into a swift declination, face first, toward the oaken counter top. Another length of living timber, this one acutely thicker than the first, slammed into both of his thighs, catching him in mid-fall. A third finger lumbered its base into Justin's muscular abdomen, knocking the wind out of him, while the pinky at his right shin scooped out to take in its left match, removing his feet from the ground and leaving him in a hovering embrace of feminine hooks. An index finger coiled around his chest area just as a burly thumb hugged his back beneath his shoulder blades, thus completing the set. The breast of a smooth, ductile palm contorted ever-so-slightly to his right side as he was pulled into it whilst the gripping fingers tightened their grasp securely, yet lightly, the ripples of prints tickling his uncovered skin all the while. Then, his stomach sank to his ankles.

As his snug, damp vehicle ascended, Justin's position was returned upright. His arms were free to flail, but he instead opted to lay his forearms on top of the thumb and pointer finger wrapped highest around his body. With insignificantly small fingers, he felt their silky membrane, rubbing and prodding the mass amount of pale epidermal material as his face expressed awe at such a novelty. His rise stopped, and Justin slowly, hesitantly tore his gaze from his lower portion's cell.

Arrie's lovely visage was zoomed in on Justin, contemplation overtaking its gorgeous features. Her fawning eyes, minus their spectacles, maintained a minute squint as they studied him intently. The point of her button-cute nose fluttered at little more than an arm's length away. The ends of her luscious red lips tugged down almost imperceptibly. Protruding from the left corner of her mouth was a long beam of silver attached to the frame of her glasses, which were held by her left hand well below Justin's assisted height. She seemed to be nibbling inquisitively on the fragmented section in her mouth. Tawny follicles swung toward either side of him, indicative of the leaning movement of her neck.

"You're pretty fast." Arrie complimented. "You must have cleared a good two feet before I caught you."

"Y-yeah." Justin answered.

There was a brief silence. Then, Arrie let out an exaggerated sigh.

"What am I going to do with you, Justin?" She interrogated. "You just can't seem to stop asking questions, can you?"

Nervousness crept up Justin's throat as he mustered his reply. "It slipped. I didn't even think about what I was saying. Honest!"

Another sigh escaped Arrie's lips, this one sounding much more sincere. A small smile formed on her pretty face.

"I'm such a softy." She paused. "Alright, I guess I can let it go."

Justin watched as Arrie put her glasses back in their proper place over the svelte bridge of her nose. Her head pulled back. He could feel the instinctive swing of her arm as she turned and walked toward the center of the room, despite the fact that she still held him, elbow bent, up by her glowing countenance. After a few steps, he found himself being lowered onto a circular dining table. The dainty fingers around him opened as his feet touched down on the lacy magnolia cloth adorning the table. Arrie sat in one of the two chairs surrounding plateau, keeping her posture perfect as she looked down at Justin.

"And yes," Arrie spoke matter-of-factly. "I do think that blond girl put something in your drink that shrank you. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

We? Justin kept his query to himself.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Um, all of this is a lot to take in. I'd rather talk about something other than how short I am, or what I'm going to do about it, for a while, if you don't mind."

"I'd like that."

The two talked for hours. Justin told Arrie of his job in the local plastics factory, his lack of family save for a few cousins he never cared to keep track of; anything he could think of, really. In turn, he listened as she told him of her varying career path. A magician's assistant, a painter, a chef, a clerk in a costume shop: Many exotic stops were made during her employment history. She was between jobs at the moment, but thankfully had saved up enough money to last a while. The pair continued on with their casual conversation until Arrie volunteered to cook supper.

The meal took about a half-hour to prepare. The sizzling of olive oil partnered with the warm, crisp scent of frying flour drove Justin rabid with hunger as he waited on the table. He looked on as Arrie finished her cooking, placing the food onto a bland white plate and carrying his way. She set the china piece down next to him, and he spied a fulfilling sight; two plump chunks of chicken breast breaded in a dark golden coating and a pile of wavy mashed potatoes as high as his stomach and almost twice his width. Salivating, he climbed over the lip of the plate and moved toward the closest piece of meat, eager to sink his teeth into corpulent flesh. His attack was halted, however, as the meat came within arms' reach.

"Whoa!" Arrie's exclamation stopped Justin dead in his tracks. "What's all this then?".

"Wha-"

"You can't just eat that with your hands." Arrie interrupted her distraught guest. "What are you, some sort of savage?!"

"Yes." Justin resumed his assault.

"Well, you have to use silverware anyway, just like everybody else."

Justin's disbelieving stare was met by Arrie's reaffirming counter-stare. It was a solid thirty seconds before her viridian irises drifted away from the puny man on her plate and focused their glimmering pupils on something behind him. He swiveled his neck, peaking over his left shoulder. In the distance, a giant knife, fork, and spoon sat upon the rugged surface of a napkin. With a forlorn breath, he set out for the oversized tableware.

A low grunt of exertion escaped him as Justin hoisted the argent blade over his shoulder. It was awkward to carry, given the fact that the table knife stretched an inch longer than he was tall, but he compensated for this by shifting the object into a fireman's carry. He walked back onto the serving dish and towards the chicken, keeping his eyes low and away from Arrie.

Once he reached the steaming breast nearest him, Justin flipped the dining dagger over his shoulder, landing its sharpened end on the meat. He moved to the opposite end, taking the handle in both of his hands. Rotating the knife so that its teeth laid into the food, he pushed the cutter forward with every ounce of energy he had. The skin proved to be quite a hindrance, catching each ridge of the blade's slicing design. He stepped into the cut, managing to force an incision into the succulent poultry. Taking a second to wipe his brow, he then pulled back on the handgrip, taking care to put some downward pressure on it as well. The tearing pegs dragged arduously in reverse. Justin let out a frustrated groan as he struggled with what was once such a simple task.

Four repetitions and little progress later, Arrie decided to intervene.

"Let me have a crack at that." She demanded playfully.

Justin was casually brushed aside as Arrie took the knife handle in her right hand, causing him to stagger backward just a bit. While regaining his balance, his peripherals caught her left reaching for the abandoned fork back on the napkin. He gaped in wonderment as all four of the menacing spikes of the huge utensil plunged mercilessly into the edible bosom, a muffled clang announcing the completeness of the impalement. The knife moved into place next, resuming the position where Justin had held it. A lazy flick of Arrie's wrist drove the teeth of the blade deep into the soft flesh of the chicken; much deeper than he could have hoped to achieve in ten minutes time. A few more careless jerks, and a hunk of meat larger than his head separated itself from its body. The fork quickly exited the punctured bird, sinking its two central talons into the detached remnant. It rose with its quarry in tow, levitating directly before the salivating little man, just above forehead height at nearly a forty-five degree angle.

Justin wandered closer to the awaiting cure for his carnal ailing, his arms hastily protracting for it. Before his hands make contact, however, the sound of a massive throat clearing itself out rained down to his ear drums. Peering through the gaps between sterling spears, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to find Arrie's face greeting him, her faint brown eye brows raised expectantly. He raised his head and looked off to the side with an annoyed mien, then refocused his sights on her. His arms shot out to his sides, elbows still slightly bent and fingers extended in flashing fashion, shooting Arrie an exaggeratedly enthusiastic expression. He then placed them behind him, interlocking his hands at the small of his back. His prey was a little high for him, so he lifted himself on his tip toes, mouth open wide with anticipation. The bottom of the floating chunk bumped into his incisors, and they immediately chomped down. The result was an overfilled mouth. It wasn't until a whole minute of chewing that Justin was able to swallow, gagging a little in the process, and go up for another bite.

It took only five bites to satisfy Justin's hunger, leaving a little less than half of the chicken parcel on the fork. Arrie brought the leftover portion to her mouth and consumed it all at once. She addressed her tiny guest after sending it down her gullet in a small lump.

"I suppose you'll be needing help with the potatoes, too?"

Justin's face contorted to defeated features as he noticed Arrie's right hand replacing the fork from whence it came, seizing the spoon beside it. His neck swiveled to the pool of mashed potatoes back into his line of sight. Craning his neck, he saw Arrie's smug physiognomy communicating to him a sense of knowing deferment. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it suddenly as the potatoes gained his concentration a second time. A wide smirk pushed his thin cheek bones almost to his ears.

"No thanks." He declined with false gaiety.

With that, Justin was off. He ran at full speed for the mashed potatoes. The mostly stifled gasp emanating high overhead told him that his actions had taken Arrie by surprise. It didn't take long for him to make it to the pile of mushed vegetable, and he dove at it without breaking stride. He belly-flopped near the center of his target, his weight submerging his body in the tepid, yellow mud. The gooey substance clang to his skin as it surrounded him. Wasting no time, Justin began taking greedy mouthfuls of semi-solid food, relishing in the milky taste. He sent three gulps to his stomach before he felt a gentle pressure on each of his hips and the now familiar experience of elevation.

Being plucked from his messy meal, Justin was brought to Arrie's eye level by a weakly pinching forefinger and thumb. Her unblinking eyelids were separated by a vast sea of white, complete with their own symmetrical islands of teal drifting in his direction. Her lower jaw was drooped to its limits, forming an elongated vertical oval of deep pinkish-red roughly three-quarters his height. This stunned expression soon gave way, however, as her still open lips curled upward at their corners.

Arrie's open, smiling mouth drew closer to Justin, emerging gradually from below him. Her straight brunet hair ran parallel with her spine as her head tilted back, a few clumps of renegade strands draping over her narrow shoulders in protest. An easeful fingertip nudged the inner thigh of his left leg, brushing the appendage aside. His right foot disappeared into the rising dank cave. As his shin and knee cap were consumed by darkness, the twin gates of scarlet lining the mouth began to close. Sumptuous rims encased his upper thigh, the thick, supple horizontal pillars conforming to its tone. The gargantuan girl leveled her chin so that she was once again facing straight ahead. Arrie was still smiling. Justin was not.

Justin kicked his trapped stake for all it was worth, screaming pleas for leniency. His big toe stubbed on one of the thread-like bands consisting the roof of Arrie's mouth. The sudden pain froze his frantic efforts for a moment, and that's when he felt a wet stroke slide across the bottom of his foot. A moist blanket delicately maneuvered around the lower half of his leg, lapping up the sticky potato residue stubbornly attached. The bumps of Arrie's taste buds caressed his thigh as her tongue worked its way up the limb. Justin shuddered at the attention. His muscular support was sensuously removed from its imprisonment, dragging along the doughy veneer of its still clenched together exit way. As his ped passed through her lips, the flabby muscles collided with a soft pop.

Wordlessly, Arrie lifted Justin's left calf up with her unused index finger. Justin didn't fight the motion, allowing his leg to go limp at the whim of his gigantic captress. She held the fleshly column at a right angle with the puny body in her fingers, her lips coming for their new prize. The ingesting portal did not open right away, however. Rather, as they arrived at the base of Justin's foot, the quaggy borders parted only enough to take it in. The yielding margins clasped around his ankle, the digit suspending his leg slipping up its backside and dropping away. Releasing their grip, Arrie's lips jumped to the middle of his shin, then his knee cap, and finally his thigh, gobbling up inches of skin in pac-man-like fashion. A few tongue sweeps later, and his left leg was leaked from her mouth just in the same manner as his right.

Seeing the focus of Arrie's eyes set upon his left arm next, Justin dreamily held it out to be cleansed. The invitation was well received, and his extended extremity was soon shoulder deep between her hugging lips. The titillating sensation of his arm being licked clean overloaded Justin's senses. All too soon, it was unwillingly liberated as it glided past those heavenly walls of tender ossein, its fingers clutching futilely for the bottom one's brim. Arrie grabbed his right arm with two of her much bigger fingers, wiggling it around teasingly, yet carefully before pulling it linearly over his head. Her tongue poked out of its dwelling, and it wasted no time in its advance. It ran itself lackadaisically up his raised arm several times, as though it were a Popsicle. As the tongue retracted, and her fingers released their hold, his arm flopped lazily back to his side, not gaining his notice.

As Justin watched, the formless pink monster broke past Arrie's lips a second time, its tip creeping along their trail for one rotation. As it slithered back into its domain, those lips separated wide. He realized immediately that he was gravitating toward the hole left in their stead. His upper half was placed into the stuffy pit, his abdomen resting atop Arrie's lower lip. Its malleable counterpart pressed into his back in an osculating fashion. He emitted a terrified shriek as cuspate teeth grazed him from both above and below. After some very gentle nibbling, as well as many horrified cries from Justin, the incisors withdrew. A playful dab of Arrie's tongue connected with his face, knocking the fear from it. He jauntily shot both of his arms out into the lightlessness of her inner mouth, successfully grappling his attacker. The tongue proved too strong, and he was pivoted about, feeling his free legs swing in the open air, until he relinquished his grasp on the its slippery sides.

Returning to the task at hand, the faceless beast cut under Justin, raking his taut front, in even rows from stomach to shoulders, of mashed potatoes. The process was repeated with his back, except that the tongue stopped between his shoulder blades, its tip messaging the area with cylindrical motions. Arrie hummed a delicious moan as she finished cleaning Justin, vibrating his ear drums quite unpleasantly, though it resonated luxuriously throughout his body. Then, he was taken from her mouth.

Justin was promptly set onto the table beside the plate. Arrie attempted a stern demeanor, but the happiness radiating on her face wouldn't allow her to do so. In turn, Justin suffered a similar problem, trying vainly to act indignant at what had just occurred. Arrie tore him a piece of napkin to dry himself of the thin saliva coat surrounding his body, as well as to wipe his untouched waist line of creamy yellow. As he did so, he saw her eyes suddenly pop wide. He looked a question at her. She regarded him with surprising shyness.

"Uh, maybe I should have asked this first, but you showered this morning, right?"