"Are you sure about this?" asked the little speck on the coffee table. Grace looked at the tan bipedal bug, him quivering out of fear for his lover's safety, "Yes, babe. You want to grow back, right?" The bug nodded, a movement almost too subtle for Grace to notice, "And I want you back, too. You touched the book with bare hands when you shrank. Even though it says not to touch it, I'm wearing the gloves so I'm probably safe! We've got to see if there's a way to undo the curse in here. I'm going to be okay, Stephen."

The tiny man stepped back, drenched in cold sweat as he watched his comparatively massive girlfriend carefully touch the ragged old book to his left. The book towered over him like it was a three story office building, its binding a wall of mold-speckled brown cast an unbearable stench at his height. Grace slowly dragged her hand across the front of the book, stopping over the warning label. It was a silhouette of a hand touching a flat surface, with an arrow pointing from it to a skull-and-crossbones. It had been stitched onto the original front cover, as though whoever had this book before it was sent to Stephen's apartment wanted to warn its new owner of its dangers. If that was the purpose, the donors most certainly failed, Grace thought to herself. Never underestimate men's refusal to read warnings. Grace studied the label, then gingerly opened the first page. She pulled her hand away, then put it back. Nothing happened. She looked back at her tiny boyfriend, grinning with satisfaction, "The gloves are touching it, but not me! Who's the smart one, Steph?"

Stephen sighed, "You are, Grace."

Should have read the warning on the front, Stephen scolded to himself. Man, am I dumb.

Grace stuck her tongue out a bit past her lips, "That's right," She giggled, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Now, let's see what we can learn about this little curse you got," She blushed with embarrassment, "Sorry."

Grace stared at the front page, richly decorated in intricate geometric shapes that almost dizzied the reader. At the center of the page, some characters clearly indicating a title and authors. Her emerald eyes narrowed in a scowl,

"Hmm. It's all in a different language. Babe, what language has A's with little circles on the top?"

Stephen answered immediately, "Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, lots of Sámi languages"

"But you don't speak those, do you?"

Stephen shook his head again, "I know a lot about how they work, and the way they interact with the cultures where they're used, if that helps?"

Grace chuckled, "Sorry, I doubt your linguistics degree will help here. I'll just try a translator..."

She typed in the text into her phone and read it aloud to Stephen, "'Compendium of Common Curses and Their Cures' by The Society for the Preservation of Nordic Witchcraft. Huh, okay. Magic is real, I guess."

Grace continued to the table of contents, typing in each entry into her translator until she yelped, her shout causing Stephen to cover his ears. "Here! Defenses Imbued on this Tome! Let's go there..." The air displaced by Grace's speedy turning of the pages rustled the tiny man's hair. The more he stayed this diminutive size the less safe he felt. He watched the subtle changes on his girlfriend's face as she read all the tome said about how it protected itself, trying to distract himself from the absurdity of the situation. God, even at this angle she's stunning. He found himself focused on her lips, remembering how he had kissed her just yesterday when she left his apartment for work. When she came back this afternoon, she found him on the table, shrunken after he had received this book in the mail. She had bent down to see him and her lips took up nearly his whole view for a bit. Those same soft, light pink lips could now easily envelop his entire body. Imagine laying on those. That'd feel... What the fuck am I thinking? Stop distracting yourself, dumbass! Stephen kicked himself out of his trance through his girlfriend's booming voice, "Grace, what does it say?"

She looked back at her tiny boyfriend, "Well, we both got real lucky. That curse you had is one of a lot. A bunch of pages, recipes, even ways of turning pages can trip traps on this thing. Not all of them shrink you, and it seems gloves only work against the shrinking curse. Some of these are... well, painful sounding."

"But is there a way to reverse mine?"

She looked at her phone briefly, "Yes. It's a weird one," She frowned as she studied her translation further, "Lemme just read it aloud: Should an ignorant fool be reduced in his stature from reading this Tome unprotected, there is but one remedy. He must understand the risks of curses and their effects on those who suffer them. Hence, he must feel the greatest of curses: death, at the hands of a lover. The cursed one must be consumed, fully and happily, by his true love thrice under the light of the moon. Upon his third embrace of death, he shall awaken restored to his normal size, sure not to trifle with the Craft again."

Stephen stammered, blinking rapidly at the giant, "...consumed? Happily!? I-I-"

Grace rested her hand on her chin, "I guess... I have to eat you. And you need to be glad I'm doing it."

"How are you so serene about this, Grace? I mean, can we even trust this thing? Maybe it's another curse!"

Grace shook her head, "I think it's real. Most of the other curses here are hexes you put on someone to teach them a lesson. You know, treat people with respect, don't steal my cow, stay away from my husband. That sort of thing. This seems in line with that theme. Besides, what else can we do?"

Stephen racked his brain to try and finagle some kind of plan, but soon enough he fell in line, "I don't want you to flip through more of that book. You could trip another curse," He let out a long sigh, "Well, it's almost dark. I guess there's no time like the present."

Grace's lips curled into a sweet, comforting smile. "Hey. It's gonna be okay," She brought out a finger and lightly ruffled Stephen's hair with it, prompting the tiny man to duck.

"I believe you. But how do we make this a "Happy" death?"

Grace's smile got wider, "I might have an idea for that."

The table was uncomfortable for Stephen. He was stuck on the structure, naked, the cold air-conditioned atmosphere and lack of shelter made him a shivering mess most of the time he spent on it. But the purse he was now stuck in was far worse. In her quest to spice up his three deaths, Grace needed to go to a store (she wouldn't say which) to get some things (things she didn't describe). To prevent him from being eaten by spiders or freezing to death, she had the bright idea of just putting him in a small purse pocket and carrying him around. He felt a bit like a toy breed of dog, if it had a bag over its head. The pocket was closed, nothing in it besides some wadded up gum wrappers Grace put in months ago and promptly forgot about. But the closed pocked meant the temperature increased over time, and the constant rhythmic jostling of the purse as his giant escort walked leisurely around threatened to bowl him over at any time. He could hear the beeping of scanners, the squeaking of cart wheels, and the unmistakable sound of inoffensive fifteen year old pop songs playing outside the purse. She's at a grocery store, he figured. Hang on, is she buying sides to go along with me? Stephen could not believe how willing his girlfriend was to commit to this. She just decided she'll eat him and she'll find a way to make it 'enjoyable' for him, too. Why is she not freaked out by this? Why does she seem so nonchalant? Stephen could only guess as he felt a massive thud followed by the roaring sound of an engine turning over. Grace was taking him home, to his deaths.

As he felt one final thud a few minutes later, he heard his captor speak to him from beyond the leather prison, "Babe? Gonna get ready. I'll take you out in a few minutes. I love you!"

"I love you, too!" he tried to shout to her, figuring he likely couldn't penetrate the walls of the pocket. He sat and stared at the wads of gum for nearly thirty minutes until he heard her steps again. Instead of a booming sound, her footsteps were sharper, more of a clack-clack. He had no time to speculate why that might be as she unzipped his cage and gazed down at him. She was wearing makeup!

In fact, she looked ready for a date. She was adorned with a small but stately necklace, hoop earrings, a low-cut camisole and a short red skirt. Observing the shock on Stephen's face, she squatted down to cover his sky with her face, "like the outfit, honey?"

She plucked the man up from the pocket and slowly rose, giving him the ability to see the black heels she was wearing to complete her outfit. Stephen felt a mix of fear and dread mixed with unabated lust, "You look... incredible," was all he could muster. Oh, man. Her perfume. It's overpowering me, but I don't mind. Fuck, this woman... "That's the idea!" she exclaimed, "I'll treat you to a nice dinner, get you good and liquored up, and by the time you're relaxed and pleased, I swallow you! Quick and clean."

"Oh, alcohol will help this. Good thinking, Grace." Stephen could use a drink for a regular person, anyway. Grace slowly walked into the kitchen, pointing her hand down a little to give her boyfriend a view of her outfit as she swayed back and forth. She didn't mention it, but she could feel a tiny little pressure on the pad of her finger holding Stephen. Good. It's working, she thought to herself. Such a horny little guy! Grace had her suspicions as to how he was reacting to being so small around her, and his apparent stimulation confirmed her theories. She figured if she pushed just a few buttons she could get him willing to do anything she told him to with gleeful abandon. All to get him back to normal, of course. Even if he is really cute like this.

Grace entered the kitchen and set her boyfriend down on the counter, next to a large glass filled with some kind of brownish-red spirit. "What's that your drinking, Grace?" Stephen asked as his trepidation grew. His date looked down at him, "Vermouth, on the rocks with some bitters. Perfect to calm the nerves and open the stomach!" Stephen gulped, "Oh. So you'll eat me after a drink?" A booming laugh filled his head, "No, silly. You're going to be a garnish for me."

"Wait, I-" His protests were interrupted by her massive fingers pinning him once more. She dropped him in casually into the freezing drink, Stephen clinging to an ice cube as the spirit splashed into his face and nose. The burn was intense, barely tolerable thanks to the ice diluting the alcohol just a little. He stared up at the giant before him, peering down with a peculiar expression. There was the concern she had been wearing for a while, but something else obscured that. Something more primal in her face signaled the deepest terror in the little man.

She was hungry.

Grace watched her tiny boyfriend struggle against the drink, his desperate kicks and flails sending barely perceptible ripples through the surface. The ice cubes moved to and fro, threatening to strike him and send him under the sweet waves. But she would prevent that; after all, she needed him to be alive as she eats him. But she had to toy with him, just a little. He's a great swimmer. Let's see just how good he is! She flicked the outside of the glass a few times, her simple motion causing tremors emanating across the drink. The waves pushed the cube Stephen was holding on to and he fell under the waves. Mere seconds later, he reemerged across another ice cube. He yelled something, but Grace wasn't listening. Whatever he wanted didn't matter. Now, she was in charge. She flicked the glass again, harder this time. A tsunami engulfed the tiny man and he sloshed around just under the waves, his movements becoming weaker as the exhaustion and drunkenness began to take hold. As she watched his helpless struggles, she realized she felt different from moments ago. She felt heat move from her feet up to her thighs, felt her skin tighten just slightly, and as she stuck a finger in the drink to swirl up a vortex around Stephen, she felt an unmistakable movement in her abdomen, followed by a little weakness in her arms. Her breathing steady and slow, she lost herself in the titillation of toying with him. So completely helpless. At my mercy. Weak. Tiny. Garnish. It was time. Grasping the glass, she slowly brought it up to her mouth. Just before meeting her lips, she opened her mouth to give her boyfriend a view of his tomb. So close to her ears, she could hear his cries of terror, inconsolably begging for her to do anything, anything but put him in her mouth. But she made her mind up. The glass tipped and cold liquid flowed over into her mouth. Pulling the drink back, she swished it around in her mouth and swallowed, smiling with glee at Stephen, now a bit down from the rim of the glass. "Delightful," she cooed. "You really help brighten the taste, babe." She swished the glass and brought it up for another drink.

Stephen could no longer think as he tried desperately to escape. He could only swim, against the massive current of alcohol flowing into Grace's cavernous mouth. The ice cubes to which he held on colliding nearly crushing him into paste. And Grace above him, pure bliss on her face as she watched him struggle. Exhausted, he lay on an ice cube to get some breath while his girlfriend swallowed what was the second to last gulp, by Stephen's estimation. Just as soon as his head stopped spinning, Grace reached a hand into the glass and began to pluck out the ice cubes. One by one, Stephen's life boats were taken away by his predator. And once she carried up his ice cube, she gently shook it to knock him over into the drink, the tiny man getting a face full of Vermouth. Laughing, Grace took the glass up and swirled him around. Stephen got one last look at his girlfriend's face as her mouth parted and she sucked him inside.

Grace had let him simmer long enough. Now, time to taste. He had unusual texture, much softer than Grace predicted. And a lot more savory, too. She could taste his fear and his sweat, and critically, his arousal. It was subtle, a kind of background note like vanilla in chocolate chip cookies, but it was distinct. Knowing she could complete the ritual now, she wanted to keep tasting him. His struggles, the helpless fight against the current and her mighty tongue, filled her with satisfaction. Sloshing him around violently, she giggled as she felt him hit the back of her molars. But the force of her laugh caused the current of the alcohol to change and shove Stephen back to her throat. Involuntarily, Grace swallowed her boyfriend, and felt his panicked flailing as he dropped into her stomach. "Fuck!" She hit her fist on the table in frustration. She wanted to play with him more, but she could feel him stop moving in her belly as she finally took him. At first, she felt guilt and fear as he was still gone. Then suddenly, she heard a zap behind her. On the dining room table, a little man appeared, lying prone on the surface. She ran over to Stephen and tried to wake him. "Babe? Baby? Wake up!" She poked his side a few times, and finally he arose. "G-grace? Did it work?"

Grace smiled, "Yes, cutie. Your first death! Now, ready for the main course for the night?"

Stephen sat cross-legged at the table while Grace pulled her meal from the oven, the only light in the dining room coming from a large candle to Stephen's left. It had been a few hours so he had spent most of the time processing death. The darkness that enveloped him when she swallowed was intense, as was the heat and smell of her stomach. He could only experience that for a moment, blessedly, because the impact of hitting her digestive juices killed him instantly. How lucky am I? He thought. He wasn't looking forward to the next meal, but he couldn't help but feel at least a little conflicted. On the one hand, it was terrifying. Being toyed and tasted, with the eventual fate of being consumed whole filled him with dread. But that same process, being prey for her, felt good. He felt a kind of bliss as she casually demonstrated that she had all the agency, all the power. He was powerless, but the way she took it from him felt almost freeing. Like it was a burden she relieved him of. He didn't want to get eaten again. But at the same time, he perversely looked forward to witnessing her exert her power over him. The light in the kitchen turned off. Had he been normally-sized, this would have been a romantic ambiance. But now, it was mortifying. He prepared himself as Grace walked over with a plate of roasted meat.

"Tada! Roast duck with mashed potatoes and brown gravy, maple glazed carrots, and a side of boyfriend!"

Stephen sighed, "Okay. So, on the plate?"

Grace's smile dropped, "Hey, you need to enjoy this. So keep a positive attitude! I'm gonna play with you a little, so think of this like a game! Your goal is to not get eaten by me, no matter how much I focus on you. Come on," She held out her hand and Stephen climbed on. Grace dropped him onto the potatoes and he immediately sank into the mountain of food, eliciting a giggle from the giant woman above. "Hehe, sabotaged your start! My bad, honey!" She sat in her chair, shaking Stephen in place, further burying him in potatoes. Grace just ignored him, cutting into the duck and dipping it in some gravy that covered the bottom of the plate. She chewed slowly and loud, enunciating her pleasure at tasting the meat, "Delectable! I found this recipe online from some French dude. He knows his stuff!" She stabbed into the duck again, then stopped halfway to the gravy. She faced Stephen, "But did the potatoes come out right?" Her fork moved slow, Stephen's struggles to climb out becoming more and more desperate. The fork stabbed under the tiny man and pulled him up, freeing him from the sticky mass. Grace brought out the fork and dipped it in gravy. As she did, he ran off, landing in the salty goop with a violent splash. "Oh, nimble little bug! You know, I really like the gravy!" Stephen screamed as the fork plopped down on its side just behind him. Grace was going to scoop him up!

Stephen ran back past the potatoes, hearing the sloshing of gravy as the fork picked up more and more. Just as he ran up against the unscalable wall of the plate, the fork went up and into Grace's mouth. She giggled at him, setting the fork down and grabbing her spoon. "Come here, little thing!" she teased as she brought the spoon right at him. Though he tried to get out of the way, she was too fast, and Stephen was brought up to her mouth, along with a piece of sauce covered duck. She slurped the gravy in first, keeping the solids out for a moment. Bringing the spoon back, Grace licked her lips slowly and let out a little groan of pleasure at the taste. Stephen locked eyes with her, his arousal deeply unwanted but very real. With agonizing speed, Grace's mouth opened again and Stephen was sucked into the cavern for a second time. Her mouth was easier to navigate without as much liquid, but it was still impossible to gain a foothold. But he was unprepared to deal with her teeth. Her chomps were intense, strong and loud as she broke and tore the solid food. Her tongue deftly sweeping both the duck and Stephen toward the massive pearly death machines, he was nearly crushed numerous times. While he could dodge much of the tongue's attacks, he was quickly getting exhausted, and soon he collapsed, falling under the sheen of saliva and letting her mouth take him as prey.

Grace felt him stop struggling. Collecting all her food at her tongue, she let it all sit a moment, and then swallowed. Her boyfriend again fought the whole way down, but once more it was to no avail. This time, she savored him properly. And what flavor he had! As his struggles disappeared in her stomach, she returned to her meal, admiring the candle casting a soft light on the walls of the dining room.

ZAP

Grace saw Stephen reappear on the table, and this time just waited for him to naturally wake up while she got the tools for her final eating. Her boyfriend awoke to the sounds of her bare feet stomping towards him, holding something behind her back.

"Heels get uncomfy, Grace?"

She smiled at him, "Yeah. Hope you don't mind."

"I mean, it's hard to see a difference in height at my size," Stephen stretched his arms and legs, "So, dessert time? What are we doing now? Cake? Cookies? Ice Cream?"

"Well, none of those. In fact, not really any food," She looked sheepishly towards the door, her face turned red.

Stephen tilted his head, "What do you mean? You gotta eat, Grace. How are you going to do that without any food?"

She looked back at him, her eyes wide as her timid expression melted away. Walking up to the table, she plopped a large massager next to Stephen. Looming over him, her eyes shined with hunger once more,

"There are other ways to eat you, honey."

She stuck her finger in her mouth and pulled it out. Coated with saliva, she ran it up and down Stephen's body, rubbing and stimulating him. Stepping back, Grace slowly began to tug at her skirt. "I've wanted to try this the moment I found you shrunken, Stephen. I can't believe I have a good reason to try. Thank you for this, babe. You've been such a good toy."

Stephen could hardly get up as she brought her skirt down to her heels, revealing her soft, lacy panties. She grasped the tiny man and brought him to her lips for a deep, sensual kiss. Stephen felt his confusion and fear subside. Now all that remained was pure, all-consuming desire, her soft lips arousing him with unrivaled intensity. With one hand, Grace brought her panties off her thighs to fall on the floor. Her breathing heavy, Stephen was brought down to her waist. As he traveled behind her back, he saw a little trickle of wetness on the front face of the panties. He knew exactly what was next.

Squirming in her hand. Struggling in vain just like she wanted. Grace stood with her little toy facing her ass, just drinking in the emotion in him. After devouring her boyfriend twice, she needed true release. To climax this moment in the sweetest, most sensual way she could. She bent over and spread out her legs. Just out of earshot, she heard his squeals. The intoxicating inflections of fear, but mixed with arousal. Good boy. You want to sacrifice yourself for me. My pleasure. She felt proud of her boyfriend for being so easily broken. But pride will not satisfy her. So she positioned his head above her fingertips, and slowly placed him in between her titanic ass cheeks.

His struggles were more intense as he entered her, face dragging along the side closest to her front. She could feel his dick brush up too, now twitching in near release. She pulled back and forth, pulling his hips out and in, feeling him shake uncontrollably. She let out a little moan as she shoved him all the way in. His movements as he became totally entrapped by her sent shivers up and down her spine. The stimulation he provided moved her in ways she never thought possible. She turned her massager on, at first teasing herself by placing it on the inside of her thighs. She thought of how he was for the last few hours, tossed around by her slightest movements, quaking with fear. And as she brought the massager up to gently graze her clitoris, she thought of his devotion, his absolute submission to her. Feeling him wriggle more and more desperately, she swayed her hips back and forth, getting closer and closer. Her arousal threatening to burst from her, she finally felt a little crunch inside of her and found release, shaking into a deep, primal moan.

Grace stood at the table for a bit, taking in the waves of pleasure. After a moment, she bent down to pick up her clothes and put them in the wash. As she removed her makeup and put on some comfortable clothes, she heard a zap for the last time. Running into the living room, she saw Stephen on the couch, in front of the cursed book, the size of a normal person. He got up and ran to her, embracing her in a deep hug. She could feel tears come from his face as he processed his rescue. "You okay, babe?" Was all she could muster as she felt her own tears come out. Stephen hugged even tighter, "I'm okay. Because of you, I'm okay. I love you so much. I'm so lucky you're in my life."

Grace kissed her boyfriend on the cheek, "I love you too. I'm so happy I can hold you like this again," she looked down at her feet, "and I'm sorry for... all that. We don't ever have to talk--"

Stephen grazed her cheek with his hand, "Are you kidding? You were enchanting! When I was under your control it was like something awoke in me, this desire to be possessed and to witness your power! I mean, I don't want to be shrunken again, but... you were incredible!"

Grace was stunned. She figured he'd be horribly traumatized by this. But his expression was one of relief mixed with satisfaction. Grace felt her heart pounding as she drank in the love her boyfriend emanated out to her. "Well, we'll get rid of that book, then maybe we can talk about how you can... serve me better. Sound good?"

Stephen grinned, "Yes, ma'am!"

"Good," she cooed at him as she took his hand and led him to bed.

The next morning was her day off, and so Grace took the book with her to the river by Stephen's house. Holding it in her gloved hand, she prepared to throw it into the waters to get it out of their lives, when she stopped. Something was making her pause. We did only see one curse. Are there... other curses? I mean, one look wouldn't be too bad, right? Sitting on a bench nearby, Grace slowly opened the book and translated the table of contents again. She stopped as she translated the title to chapter twelve, and immediately flipped to it, pouring over each detail as if in a trance. The chapter reads: "Shrinking Curses: Offensive Uses on Others" After an hour of diligent study, Grace put her phone away and tossed the book into the river, heading back to her apartment with a head full of ideas, and of targets. Her life was about to take an interesting new direction. And as she contemplated this, she found she was growing hungry.