I approached my trip to Los Angeles with some
trepidation; after  all, it would be the first time I'd been out
of the house in over a month.

 Of course, I could have stayed home, but I would
have missed  Sarah, and besides, it was probably more dangerous
staying home alone  than heading off to California.  Still, it
was going to be tricky, and  that alone made me nervous.

 Sarah suprised me with a little kiss that knocked me
right off my  feet.  She giggled, a lovely, tremendous sound.

 "SORRY," she smiled, offering me her pinky to pull
myself up with.

* * *

 A little background.

 My name is Scott Chelgren, formerly a student at the
University  of Minnesota.  I was just going along, minding my
own business, when one  day, out of the blue, I found myself
shrunk to the height of one inch  tall.  Worse yet, I found this
out just before being sat on by a lovely  high-school student,
who was taking a class up at the U.

 The student turned out to be Sarah Kensington, who
discovered me  after about a day of adventure.  She's seventeen,
in the summer between  her junior and senior years.  Ordinarily,
the age thing would bother me,  but it doesn't so much, since
she stands sixty-five inches taller than  me, and besides, I've
always been pretty immature.

 I've been staying with Sarah for the last couple
months; she  takes care of me, keeps me from getting killed
and/or getting found by  anyone else.  She's also the most
wonderful woman I've ever met, kind,  gentle, intelligent,
vivacious, and sexy.  I'm a very lucky man.  And to  think, I
just had to lose 98% of my height to find this out.

 * * *

 After a bad experience getting lost in Sarah's High
School, we  both decided that the best way to go was for me to
stay put.  Sarah would  feed me in the morning, and again at
night; I was really in no danger of  being found.  I hadn't even
had a close call.  But the entire Kensington  family was heading
to L.A. for vacation, and Sarah didn't think it wise  for me to
stay at home, all by myself, for a whole week.  "SCOTT, YOU'RE
GENERALLY PRETTY SAFE FOR SEVEN HOURS.  BUT SEVEN DAYS?  WHAT IF
YOU  FALL, WHAT IF A BEE GETS IN?"

 "I can take care of myself," I had said, knowing
damn well it was  a lie.  Fortunately, Sarah did too.

 "RIGHT, RIGHT.  YOU'RE GOING TO L.A., SCOTT."

 "And if I don't want to?"

 "DO YOU HAVE A CHOICE?"

 Of course I didn't.  If Sarah wanted to take me to
L.A., all she  had to do was pick me up and carry me.
Ordinarily, she wouldn't do that,  but she was concerned for my
safety, and I doubted that she'd let this  one go.  [NOTE:
Scott's right.  I wouldn't have.  SK]  "All right, I'll go.
Let's just hope Karen and Susi don't see me."

 So the day of the flight had come.  Sarah was
debating how best  to transport me.  "NOT IN MY PURSE--TOO MUCH
STUFF.  NOT IN MY POCKET,  THAT'S TOO TIGHT.  NOT IN MY TRAVEL
BAG, 'CAUSE KAREN AND SUSI ARE TAKING  STUFF IN THERE
TOO...DAMN, I SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS EARLIER!"

 "It's not your fault, dear, I should have too.  It's
too bad  you're not wearing a shirt with a pocket, I could go in
there."

 "WAIT...I'VE GOT AN IDEA!"

 With that, Sarah stripped off her baggy t-shirt and
put on a much  tighter crop-top.  "Well, if your idea was to
arouse me, that'll work."

 Sarah smiled.  "WELL, IT PROBABLY WILL HAVE THAT
EFFECT...HOP UP  INTO MY HAND."  I complied, not fully realizing
what she was planning.   In mere moments, I found myself being
stuffed down the front of her  shirt, and coming to rest on the
fabric between and beneath her breasts.

 "COMFY?" she asked, from above me.

 "I like the view," I deadpanned, stretching out.
This'd do  nicely, so long as we didn't hit any turbulence.  I
couldn't see out, but  that didn't bother me so much.

 "READ ABOUT IT IN A STORY ONCE.  'WORMHOLE?'  NO,
THAT'S NOT  IT...."

 "Still reading the giant sites?" I asked blithely.
Sarah had  discovered the internet recently, and found a small
but growing  repository of stories about folks in my
predicament.  Purportedly  fictional, but I was starting to
wonder.  Really, she didn't tell me  too much about them.  In
fact, she was scrupulous not to say much outside  of basic plot.
 And there were usually holes in the plots, where things  like,
say, a guy riding beneath his girlfriend's breasts were
mentioned.

 But here I am, blathering on.  Sarah simply
chuckled, and went  about her business.  Then, a flash of memory.

 "'LOOPHOLE!'  THAT WAS IT.  NOT A BAD STORY.  OH,
'TASGENI' MIGHT   HAVE BEEN BETTER, BUT--" she stopped,
listening something, then called back,  "OKAY MOM, I'M COMING!"

 Then, to me: "SCOTT, I'M HEADING OUT TO THE CAR. WE
PROBABLY WON'T BE  ABLE TO TALK AGAIN UNTIL L.A.  I LOVE YOU."

 "I love you too, Sarah."

 * * *

Sarah

 Those of you that came in late may be wondering what
I see in a one   inch tall man.

 After all, he's not big or strong enough to stave
off wild  dingoes, or what ever it is that cavemen staved off;
he's dark and  hansome, but not particularly tall; and of
course, since he's not big,  he's, um, not big.

 And all of this is true, undeniably.  And I'm not
saying it  wouldn't be nice to meet Scott at his full size, too.
 Once in a while.

 But you just don't understand how powerfull you can
feel with a  full-grown man sitting in the palm of your hand.

 It's absolute power.  The power goddesses feel.

 It's a big turn-on.

 I left for Los Angeles with Scott safeguarded
between my two  breasts.  It was nice to feel him there, moving
ever-so-slightly,  tickling me just a little bit.  And it was
one place I was sure nobody in  my family would accidentally
look.

 I suppose I should introduce you to my family in a
little more  depth than Scott has.  (It's not his fault--poor
dear spends most of his  time avoiding them--this makes it hard
to develop lasting relationships).

 My mother, Karen Kensington, is 43.  She's a
dentist.  Does a  good job, I think.  She's got a good practice,
anyhow.  I got my dark  eyes from her, for which I'm eternally
grateful (Scott says pretty eyes  are more important that a
pretty figure--fortunately, he followed it by  commenting on how
I had both.  Don't know if he's right, but I appreciate  him
saying so.)  My dad is Mike Kensington, an Advertising
Copyrighter.   I've got two sisters, Karen (14) and Susi (7).
Karen is very quiet, but  very pretty for a Freshman, and I have
a feeling she's going to find more  than a few guys interested
in her when she enters high school in the  fall.  Susi is going
into second grade in the fall (my baby sister!  I'm  getting
old!) and is a holy terror.  I think I could almost trust Karen
to watch after Scott (although I wouldn't trust her
entirely...all right,  I'll admit it, I'm jealous), but I would
fear for his life if Susi ever  got a hold of him.

 Me?  Oh, you know me.  I'm a senior at Apple Valley
High School  (go Eagles).  Don't go there much, though, since
I'm PSEO--Post Secondary  Enrollment Option.  That means I go to
the U of M full time, and only  stop by High School once in a
while (I mean, I will be in the fall.  Last  year I split my
time).  It's nice--I'll be out of school by the time I'm  20.

 Anyhow, with that business accomplished, back to the
story.  We  boarded the plane without incident, and headed off
to L.A.

 It was an awesome feeling, taking off.  I mean, it
always  is--you're anxious to get going, you're feeling the
g-forces pushing you  back in your seat, and as you look out the
window, you see the ground  below receeding.  But this time, as
I was pushed back in my seat, I felt  ever-so gentle a pressure
against my sternum, and knew that I was  providing cushion for
Scott.

 I wondered if he was all right.

* * *

Scott

I was pinned to my true love's chest, feeling
unimaginable  pressure.  G-forces don't affect me as much as
they should--some  consequence of my magic transformation, I
guess--but they do affect me,  and for about ten minutes, I was
unable to lift my arms and legs.  I'm  suprised I didn't pass
out.

 Finally, we leveled out, and I dropped.

 Dropped even though Sarah was wearing a very tight
crop top,  dropped right out the bottom of it, past her belly
button, and on to her  lap.

 I landed on Sarah's right leg.  I wasn't panicked,
but I was very  aware that I should hide--I could see Susi on
Sarah's left, and Karen on  Sarah's right.  I didn't want either
to see me.

 Quickly, I dove in under Sarah's skirt.  I hoped she
felt me down  there, and I hoped she would be careful.

* * *

Sarah

 It took all my willpower not to yelp when I felt
Scott hit my  leg.  So quickly did he drop that I was sure he
was injured.

 I glanced down quickly, fearful at what I might see.
 Happily, I  saw him glance both ways, and dive under my skirt.
He couldn't be too hurt.

 The seat belt sign was off.  I decided that this
would be a good  time to use the restroom.

* * *

Scott

 We were off.

 Thankfully, I had anticipated this, and grabbed on
to Sarah's  panties.  We made it to the restroom all right, and
when we got there,  Sarah quickly grabbed me, and checked me
over.

 "ARE YOU OKAY?" she asked, concern all over her face.

 "Just fine, thanks," I said, smiling.

 "I'M SORRY, I THOUGHT THIS WOULD WORK, BUT I SCREWED
UP.  I--"

 "Screwed up, nothing!  I'm fine!  Don't worry about
it!  I'll  just have to hang on tighter next time."

 "Well, I'm going to have to find you a new hiding
place."  Sarah  frowned, slightly--she was thinking.  Then,
suddenly, her eyes went wide,  and she slowly exhaled.  A slight
smile slowly worked its way onto her  face.  "Scott...would you
like to join the Mile-High club?":

* * *

Sarah
 

I don't know what came over me.  But it seemed like a
good idea  at the time.

 I should be clear that this was not our first time.
We had taken  the final step a few weeks before (on my
insistance--Scott was a little  afraid.  Well, I guess if I were
one inch tall, and Scott were his full  hight, I'd be a bit
nervous myself).

 At any rate, I enjoyed the feeling of Scott inside
of me--and  really, as long as I was careful, he was safe.
Safer, indeed, than  between my breasts.

 I watched my little lover.  He was astonished, I
think, but then  he smiled.  "I'd love to!" he shouted.  Without
a word, I pulled my  panties down, and placed him inside of me.

 * * *

Scott

 Sarah was getting more forward.  And I was thankful.

 She placed me gently but firmly inside of her.  It
was an  exquisite feeling.  I slid easily into her--she was
already a little  wet.  I could feel her blood pumping around
me.

 I began moving around as she began moving.  I had a
feeling she  would head back to her seat--she could only be gon
a little while without  arousing suspicion.  But that didn't
mean that I should simply lay there  passively.  So I turned
myself around, and began to caress her labia.   Working my way
up, I felt her tremble slightly.  I was having an effect.

 I felt her sit down.  I would have to be gentle.  It
wouldn't do  to have her shouting out loud.  I was able to work
my way up to her  clitoris, and began massaging it.

   * * *

Sarah

 I sat down between my two sisters with a warm,
bubbly feeling  rising slowly from deep within.  I was glad that
Scott was serious about  his duties--the flight to LA could've
been really boring.

 Still, I was on my guard.  I couldn't show any signs
of arousal,  and that was hard, because I was aroused.

 It got tougher when Scott started working on my
clit.  He had a  way of rubbing me in just the right places.
(Maybe all men should be  shrunk down to an inch, the better to
understand the female anatomy).   The bubbles started to grow
larger, and the warmth began to grow hotter.

 I bit my lower lip.

* * *

Scott

 The trembles were now quakes.  One thing about being
one inch  tall--you know when you're having an impact.

 I kept it up, switching speeds, faster, slower.  I
hoped Sarah  was enjoying herself.  I sure was.

 Suddenly, it hit me.  The liquid cacaded around
me--not  overpowerful, but certainly strong.  It was a small
orgasm--she must've  been holding back.  Still, it was terriffic
from my perspective.

 This was going to be a good vacation after all.

* * *

Sarah

 I don't think anyone else noticed, but I was digging
my nails  into the armrests, and biting so hard on my lower lip
that I drew a tiny  bit of blood.  Scott had rung my bell, all
right, and it was all I  could do to keep from shouting.

 The rest of the trip was relatively quiet.  Oh,
Scott punched my  buttons a couple more times, but nothing else
happened.  When we finally  touched down, I knew two things.
First, Scott was a horny little devil.   (This was good--I was,
too.)  Second, when we got to the hotel, I needed to  change my
underwear.

 The hotel was the Saga Inn, right across the street
from  Disneyland, in Anaheim.  A long drive from LAX, but oh
well.  I went  straight to the bathroom, and removed my panties.

 Scott was a mess, coated from head to toe in my
juices.  He  seemed happy, though.  "We need to do that more
often!" he called,  beaming.  I agreed--though I was passing
exhaused.

 "We're going out to dinner now--I think I should
leave you here.   You'll be safe enough for a few hours."

 "True, just bring me back something to eat!  I'm
starving!"

 "Okay, little love.  You've earned it."

 * * *

Scott

 She washed me off, and put me in the drawer by the
bed.  Susi and  Karen were putting things away, and didn't
notice.  Presently, there was  a knock on the door, and the
Kensington family left for dinner.  Sarah  dropped the phone
cord into the drawer and left it open a crack, in case  I had to
leave.  She blew me a kiss, and walked away.

 I laid down and sighed.  We'd been in L.A. two
hours, and I was  already exhausted.

 This was going to be a long week.

 I felt a little guilty leaving Scott behind.  Of
course, I  couldn't exactly set him a place next to me with my
whole family around,  but I could've taken him with me, in a
pocket or something.

I should not have felt guilty, though.  It wasn't
like Scott and  I hadn't done this same routine a thousand times
before.  He'd be fine--I  hoped--and I'd see him again shortly.

* * *

Scott

 The worst part about being one inch tall is being
bored.

 Not that I'm complaining--I've lived the alternative
to being  bored, and it's overrated.  Dodging giant feet, almost
getting sat  on--it's much safer having someone protect you from
all that.  No lie,  had Sarah not found me, I would have died
within days of shrinking.

 Still, it wasn't that exciting sitting in a hotel
drawer at 6:34  PDT, waiting for everyone to come back.

 I wished for a bit of excitement on this trip.  I
wished for a  little chance to see the world, on my own.  I
wished for a little  change--and found myself mumbling an
incantation I'd almost forgotten.
 
 

I stopped short--what was I doing?  I didn't want to
lose Sarah  for anything.  And I remembered what sort of change
I'd found for myself  last time I mumbled that spell.

 But it was too late--a change was coming.

 I just didn't know it yet.

* * *

Sarah

 I felt a chill run through me on the way back to the
hotel.  Not  necessarily a bad feeling, but a feeling, saying
clearly that Something  was going to happen.

The car ride was uneventful, otherwise (although I
noted, to my  displeasure, that you can actually _taste_ Los
Angeles' air.  It doesn't  taste good.)  I was just happy to
arrive back at the Saga Inn.

 I approached the drawer surreptitiously, not wanting
Susi or  Karen to notice, and checked on Scott.  He was all
right--he waved  hi--but he seemed lost in thought.  I grabbed
him--gently--and carried  him into the bathroom.

 "Hey," I whispered, "did you miss me?"

 "Of course I did!  I _always_ miss you."  Scott
seemed a little  upset.  Damn it, I should have taken him to
dinner.

 "I'm sorry, I just, I didn't--"

 "No, that's okay, don't worry about it.  It's the
cross I have to  bear, right?  Don't have any choice in the
matter, for better or worse,  I'm one inch tall, right?  I'm...."

 He stopped there.

* * *

Scott

 For an inch-tall guy, I'm a big idiot.

 Here I was, rambling on.  Why?  Because I was bored.
 Bored!  So  what do I do?  Make Sarah feel bad.  Good plan
Scott!

 I'm a _really_ big idiot.

 I could see she was starting to tear up, and I
didn't want that.   She didn't deserve that.  So I quit, sighed,
and apologized.

 "I'm sorry, I just...it's frustrating, y'know?
Sometimes, I'd  like to hold you in my arms, and I...well,
that's not going to happen,  and I'm just going to have to live
with that."

 She was crying, now.  "SCOTT, DON'T SAY THAT.  YOU
KNOW WE CAN  ALWAYS RESEARCH THIS--I SAID I'D TAKE YOU DOWN TO
MAGUS BOOKS, WE COULD  ORDER ANOTHER COPY OF THE MAGIC BOOK YOU
WERE READING BEFORE, AND--"

 "No, no, that's okay.  I'm not sure I want to be
normal sized,  either.  I'm not sure of much these days.

 "But stop crying!  None of this is your fault.  My
life is better  now than it ever has been, no matter what my
height.  And that's because  of you.  I love you.  I'm sorry."

 She kissed me, and then hurriedly gave me a huge
hunk of chicken,  which she'd apparently rescued from dinner.  I
tried a bit.  Not bad.

 "NOW, SCOTT, TOMORROW WE'RE GOING TO UNIVERSAL
STUDIOS.  I CAN  TAKE YOU ALONG, IT'S NOT THAT MUCH TROUBLE, I--"

 "No, we agreed that I'd stay in the hotel, because
it's safer  here.  I'll stay in the drawer, and when the maid
comes in, I'll hide in  a pair of your socks, so that she won't
see me even if she does open the  drawer."

Sarah smiled.  "I THINK THAT'S THE SAFEST WAY.  I'M
SORRY THIS  WON'T BE MUCH OF A VACATION FOR YOU."

 "What are you talking about?  I've got you."
 
 

We didn't talk again the rest of the night.  Sarah
had one bed  all to herself, and she hid me inside the pillow
she didn't use.  I  scaled her pillow just long enough to kiss
her, and whisper "good  night."  We'd make some private time
later.

 I went to bed a little frustrated, but oh well, I'd
get over it.

 I would indeed.

* * *

 I don't know what I was thinking, bringing Scott
along.

 I mean, he probably would have been safer alone in
the house all  week, even with my friend Alyssa stopping by from
time to time (Alyssa  would probably--certainly--have at least
one party while she was "house  sitting," but she'd pick
everything back up.  She was responsible--in her  own fashion.)

 But I went on overdrive, didn't think things
through, and I  brought him out to L.A.

 My bad.

 Anyhow, our first full day in Los Angeles (or, to be
specific,  Anaheim) started out like any first full day in any
vacation spot  begins--hectic.  Especially with my two sisters.
Susi is finally old  enough to take care of herself, but Karen!
Good Lord, tell me I wasn't  that much into preening myself when
I was her age!  I swear, I don't  think she could have showered
any longer, taken any longer to comb her  hair, or put on
makeup.

 God cursed woman by making her need to be
attractive.  Men are  content just to sit on the couch and belch.

 So I rushed things, combing my hair, brushing my
teeth, throwing  my face together, and then practically throwing
Scott in my sock  drawer--which, I realized too late, I was
sharing with Karen.  I'd meant  for it to be my own, but I
didn't have time to argue the point--Mom was  knocking, it was
time to go.
 
 

I dropped Scott in, winked good-bye, shut the door,
and left.

 He wouldn't be there when I got back to the room.

* * *

Karen

 We were rushed, and I admit, part of it was my
fault.  But how  does Sarah expect me to meet anyone if I don't
do my best to look  pretty?  I'm not like her--she's pretty with
her hair all a mess and no  makeup.  I've got to work on it.

 Not that it's helped her get a boyfriend, but I
think she's a bit  scared.  Alyssa got beat up by her boyfriend
last summer, and Sarah took  that pretty hard.  I don't think
Sarah wants to suffer the same fate for  a high school romance.

 And besides, she'll be at college next year.  She'll
go looking  there, I bet.

 Anyhow, we hopped in the car, when I realized I'd
left my locket  in the room.  Yeah, I know, Tom Stevens gave me
that, and we're not even  speaking anymore, but it's a pretty
locket, and it totally goes with my  outfit.  So I said I had to
go get it.

 Mom was mad.  "Look, we've got a long day ahead of
us, you don't  need your locket."  Then Sarah goes, "Yeah,
Karen, you'll be fine without  your locket."  But I wanted it,
and I said so.

 Finally, Dad's like, "Go get your locket, but be
quick about  it."  So I do.

 I thought I'd left it on top of the dresser, but it
wasn't there,  so I checked my bag--not there, either.  Finally,
I decided to check the  sock drawer.

* * *

Scott

 When the drawer started opening, I thought sure it
was Sarah.   She had left in a hurry, and I figured she had
probably made some  pretense to come back and say a more proper
goodbye.

 Had I been thinking, I would have realized that the
other  noises--bags being opened, stuff being shuffled
around--pointed to one of  the other sisters, but I wasn't
thinking, so I was standing right out in  the open when the
drawer opened.

 And there was Karen.

 I had seen Karen from a distance before, but never
up close.  She  was staring at me with those huge, dark
eyes--almost prettier than  Sarah's.  Almost.  Her mouth hung
open.  I could see in her face what  Sarah must have looked like
three years ago.

 But I was in deep, deep trouble.  Sarah had been
keeping me  hidden from her family for a reason.  Maybe, if
Sarah had introduced me,  things would have been okay.  But I
won't second-guess her.

 As it was, I saw Karen's hand reaching for me, and I
knew I was  trapped.

* * *

Karen

 He was the most perfect little thing I'd ever seen.
Only half as  tall as my thumb, delecate, but strong.  He was
wearing a little  toga-thingy.  (I found out later--much
later--that Sarah had made that  for him.)  He was cute.

 I didn't know how he'd gotten there, but I did know
that I didn't  want him to escape--I wanted to keep him for
myself.  So I grabbed  him--gently, I didn't want to hurt
him--and put him in my purse.  I had a  zipper pocket that was
empty, and I didn't think he'd get hurt.

 I also found my locket in the drawer, and quickly
hung it around  my neck.  I had been too long already.  It was
time to go.

* * *

Sarah

 Karen seemed quieter after getting her locket.
Good, I  thought, Hopefully she won't be whiny this
time.  I never dreamed  why she seemed so deep in thought.
I was just glad of it.

 When I think that Scott was but two feet from me,
and that I  could have saved him so much grief--but I can't undo
what was done, any  more than Karen can.

* * *

Scott

 When I think that if I'd just stayed put, I probably
would have  saved myself so much grief, I could kick myself.

 Now, thinking about it rationally, I know that I
should have just  stayed in the purse, and when Karen finally
got around to talking to me,  introduced myself, explained who I
was, and ask her politely to return  me to Sarah.  I would've
been fine.  But nooooo--I had to escape.  I had  to "get to"
Sarah.  I had to "let her know" what had happened.

 Like I said, I'm an idiot.

 I spent the next few hours working on the
zipper--not easy, since  it easily massed as much as I.  But I
only had to make a space big enough  for me to wiggle through,
and that wasn't too difficult.

 Finally, there was enough space for me to free
myself, and I fell  down to the botom of Karen's purse.

 As I felt the purse rise, I began to feel a
remarkable sense of  deja vu.

* * *

Karen

 Okay, before I go any further, I just want to say
I'm sorry.

 Scott?  I'm sorry.  Sis?  I'm sorry.  If you're
involved in this  whole mess, or even if you're not, I'm sorry.
I was stupid.  I was  inconsiderate.  I'm sorry.  <i>[Karen: No
problem Kiddo.  Don't worry about  it.  It's over and done
with--Scott] [Sister Mine: I'm not as forgiving  as Scott.  But
I guess I'll forgive you.  Just don't _EVER_ do anything  like
that again!--Sarah]</i>

 I took my purse along.  I didn't know that Scott was
free of the  little pocket thing.  Anyhow, the first thing we
did was go on the tour.   (I should mention that we were at
Universal Studios.  You know--the movie  tour place.)

 So we got on this big bus thing and headed off
through the tour.   We saw some stupid Alien display, and King
Kong, and Jaws, and a bunch of  lame movie sets, and, well, it
just wasn't that cool.  But Mom and Dad  seemed to enjoy it, and
so did Susi, so I guess it wasn't _all_ bad.

 As we came to the end of the ride, I figured I'd
take the  opportunity to use the ladies' room, and check on my
little man.

 I didn't know he was gone.

* * *

Scott

 I escaped from Karen's purse at the worst possible
time.

 I fell into her lap, and leapt off her leg, meaning
to run over  to Sarah.  She was just one seat over.

 But that was just one seat too far.  As I hit the
ground, I heard  the announcer saying, "HAVE A GREAT DAY AT
UNIVERSAL STUDIOS  CALIFORNIA."  The tour was over, and Sarah
was leaving!

 "No!  Wait!  Sarah!  DOWN HERE!"  I cried, but it
was no use.  I  was inaudible over the cacaphony of the tour.  I
watched the Kensington  family disembark, and I felt a feeling I
had not had for several months,  and never this strong.

 I had lost track of Sarah.

 I was alone.

* * *

Karen

 I didn't think too much of losing the little
man--not then,  anyhow.  I mean, I just thought I was a little
bit crazy.  That I had  imagined him.  (But he seemed so
_real_!)

 Oh well.  I headed off to the park.  I hoped it
would be a fun day.

* * *

Scott

 I was crying.

 The rational part of my mind knew there was still
hope.  I knew  what hotel Sarah was in.  I knew her flight
number and departure time.   If all else failed, I could mail
myself to her.  But I had lost her for  now.  And it was killing
me.

 I didn't have much time to cry, however.  I heard
noises from my  left.  I looked over, and another group was
getting on the Tram.

 I looked for cover, but found none.  I saw a group
of three  tourists--Japaneese, by the look of them--get on.  One
of them, a pretty,  youngish girl in blue jeans and a white
t-shirt, stopped right in front  of me, and began to sit.

 I was experiencing deja vu again.

 And I didn't like it.

 I knew something was wrong.

 I knew it with every fiber of my being.  I could <i>taste</i> it.

 But I couldn't put my finger on it.

 As I walked away from the tram, I wanted to pause.  I felt like I
should turn around.

 But I didn't.

 I kept on walking.  And as the day wore on, I kind of forgot
about the wave of dread that had passed over me.

 But not quite.

* * *

Scott

 Now, don't get me wrong, I have a healthy appreciation for the
female form.  I will state, under oath, that Sarah is the most beautiful
thing ever constructed in this universe, ever.  Period.

 That said, it's a wee bit disconcerting to see an attractive
female form lowering itself rapidly on top of you.  Especially when it's
a female form that's four hundred times bigger than you.

 It's doubly disconcerting when you've been through this before.

 But that gave me a chance.  Moving backwards wouldn't work this
time--the seats were plastic, not cushioned, and I wouldn't be pushed
into them, I'd be squashed.  People were sitting down on my left and
right, so that left me with one possibility.

 Forward.

 So I ran forwards, forcing myself against instinct, and dove
right, just avoiding one leg.  The girl had missed me by only an inch or
two.

 I looked up at her.  She was unaware of my presence, and I
intended to keep it that way.  I started to look for a way down....

 ...and smacked myself in the head for my stupidity.

 Where was I going?  The tram would be starting in mere moments,
and I was going to, what, jump from it?  While it was moving?  For
what--to be a one inch tall guy wandering a crowded park looking for one
random family?

 Yeah.  Great idea #74.

 I would be better off just waiting here, trying to find a safe
place, and trying to get in contact with Sarah later.

 But where to wait?  I couldn't just sit here, in the shadow of a
pretty Asian tourist's jean-clad leg.  I'd be spotted eventually.

 In fact, I'd already been spotted.  I just didn't know it yet.

* * *

Sadako

[Note: the following was translated by Dr. James Harris, University of
Minnesota.]

 I saw the little man by my right knee.  He didn't realize it,
though.  He was looking for something.  Some place to hide, I thought.

 I didn't want to scare him, so I didn't do anything right away.
But I wasn't going to let him out of my sight.  He was too amazing a
creature to lose.

* * *

Scott

 I heard the same old song and dance from the Tram operator--same
jokes and everything.  Maybe it was prerecorded.  I hoped so--for the
announcer's sake.

 Anyhow, I found that a hard plastic bench left little room for a
hiding place, and after about five minutes, I decided to give up.  I
thought that, if I did it quickly, I could almost slide down this girl's
pant leg, and make it to the tram floor.

 It seemed like a plan.

* * *

Sadako

 The little man moved toward my jeans.  I watched him closely,
trying to find out what he was going to do.  It looked like he wanted to
climb on top of them.  At first, I could not figure out why, but then I
realized that he wanted to climb down to the floor of the autobus.
 
 I wondered where he was trying to get.  I decided to watch a
little longer and find out.

* * *

Scott

 She hadn't noticed me yet, or so I thought.  That was good, as I
was carefullly walking on to her kneecap.  It was a good two hundred feet
or so to the ground, and I resolved to be careful--but I'd been in worse
positions.

 Slowly, deliberately, I began to lower myself down the sheer
cliff facer of her leg.

* * *

Sadako

 I watched the man try to climb down my leg, and I felt sorry for
him.  After all, for him, it was a long, long way down, and if he
fell--!  Well, I decided that, since I had decided to keep him anyhow, I
should simply grab him now, rather than let him get hurt.

* * *

Scott

 Suddenly, everything went dark, and I was pinned.

 I wondered what had happened, at first.  Then, I began to feel
the warmth from behind me.  It was a tremendous hand that held me in
place--gently, for its size, but nevertheless very firmly.  Apparrently I
had been noticed.

 After an interminable time, the hand began to gather me up into a
fist.  Then, the fist began to sway.  We were walking.

* * *

Sadako
 
 I held the little man in my hand as we walked off the autobus.  I
walked hurriedly to the restroom.
 
 When we got there, I looked down at the little man.
Incredible--I couldn't believe he was real!  He seemed to be saying
something, but it sounded like English, and I don't speak English.  I
wondered what he wanted.

 I decided that I wanted to keep him safe, and I also wanted to
make sure he didn't escape, so I tucked him safely into my bra.  I hoped
he wouldn't be hurt, but I would certainly know if he was trying to go
anywhere.

 I went back out and joined my family.  I was not sure that this
vacation would be very fun, but I was now very glad I had come to America.

* * *

Scott

 I had tried to talk to the giantess, but she just looked at me
quizzically, and then stuffed me into her bra.

 I was fortunate that Sarah and I had tried this before--I knew
how to arrange my body right on top of the woman's nipple, to lessen the
pressure of the brassiere against me.  And I didn't get sick, or not
much, with the swaying of the woman's breasts.

 After an hour of waiting, it became apparrent that I wasn't going
anywhere for a while.  So I allowed myself to cry a little more, and then
went to sleep on the bosom of a woman whose name I did not know.

 I wished I was with Sarah.

* * *

Sarah

 The ride back from Universal Studios was a long one.  I still
don't know why we had to stay in Anaheim--It's handy to Disneyland and
the Big A, but absolutely nothing else.  I was keyed up--I intended to
make some things up to Scott when we got back.  I was going to feign
illness, and stay home while the rest of the family went to dinner.  And
then Scott and I were going to have some quality time.

 Karen seemed a bit quieter than usual.  I wondered about it, but
didn't worry too much.  I was grateful, really.

 As we pulled into the parking lot, I had a feeling, a feeling of
dread, just as I had had earlier.  I wondered why.

 Soon enough, I would know.

 When we entered the room, Susi made a beeline for the bathroom,
and I made a beeline for the sock drawer.  Carefully, I pulled it open.

 I didn't panic when I didn't see Scott.  I simply tugged a bit on
Scott's hiding place.  When he didn't come out, I pulled the socks apart.

 And when he wasn't there, I nearly fainted.

* * *

Karen

 I watched Sarah go to the sock drawer.  I wondered what she was
doing for a moment.  She was looking for something.  Then, she started
looking more carefully.  Then, she started tearing the drawer apart.

 I got a feeling in my stomach that I knew what she was looking
for.  Her little man.  It must be.  That's why she pulled her old
dollhouse out.  That's why she was always sneaking off to do things by
herself.  That's why she had turned Sammy Dussendorfer down when he asked
her to prom.  She had a boyfriend.  He was just short.

 And I had lost him.

 I was in big trouble.

 I thought about being quiet; I almost did.  But I had to tell her.

 She's my sister, and I was the one that screwed up.

 So I did.

* * *

Sarah

 "Um, Sar...what are you looking for?"

 I paused briefly.  I had put him in the sock drawer, and he was
smart enough to hide.  Could the maid have him?  I doubted it.  He was
too small to open the drawer.  Where could he be?

 Oh, wait, Karen had asked me a question.

 "Um...nothing."

 She was silent a good long while, and I suddenly stopped
looking.  She hadn't asked me to explain.

 "Why do you ask?"

 "Um....are you looking for...I don't know how to...a little man?"

 My blood ran cold.  I turned to face Karen.  I was preparing to
kill her.  "Why...do...you...ask...that?"  I seethed.

 "Well....because....when I came back to get my locket, I found
this tiny man...and I put him in my purse...but when we got to Universal
Studios, he was gone...and, oh my God, Sarah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean
anything, I swear to God, if I had even thought he was yours I would have
left him be, I didn't mean to lose him, you've gotta believe me!"

 I almost killed her, but didn't.  Not because I didn't want to, I
did.  But she was the last person to see Scott, and if I had any prayer
of finding him, I had to work with her.

 "Karen, if Scott is hurt, if ANYTHING has happened to him...."

 "Sar, you won't have to do anything to me.  I'll do it myself."

 I saw the look on Karen's face.  And abruptly, my anger
dissipated.  She didn't know--couldn't know--who Scott was.  What she had
done was no different than what I had done months ago, when I saw a tiny
man on the floor of the third floor women's bathroom at school.  She
hadn't meant to lose him, any more than I had.

 "Karen....It's okay.  It's not your fault--well, not entirely,
anyhow.  We just need to figure out how to find him, that's all.  Was
your purse shut completely the whole time?"

 "Yeah, except for when I put my ticket in my purse, and then I
zipped it up tight after the tram ride--"

 And my heart sank.  Because I knew why I had felt like stopping
as we left the tram.

 And I knew that Scott could be anywhere by now.

* * *

Scott

 I was finally free.

 Well, sort of.

 I was on a bathroom counter in a hotel--a Hilton, according to
the complementary bottle of shampoo by me.  The woman--I think her name
was Sadako, I'm not sure--Had removed her clothes and set them on the
counter.  She spoke to me in what sounded like Japanese, and smiled.  She
was very pretty, and actually pretty young--maybe twenty or so.  But she
was no Sarah.

 She picked me up, and took me into the shower with her.  I had no
idea what she was doing, but I was more than a little nervous.  After
all, a vigorous shower would bludgeon me to death.  Fortunately, she just
put me on the soap dish, and let me watch as she washed herself.  It was
cold comfort.

 After she was done, she shut the shower off, and picked me up.
She began rubbing me over her body.  It was like a giant slip and
slide--only slip and slides don't have curves like Sadako did.  I found
myself growing aroused in spite of myself.

 When she was done, Sadako put a robe on, and placed me in the
pocket.  She walked out into the room.  Her family was there, I think.
I'm not sure.  At some point, she shoved a little bit of rice into her
pocket, which I ate hungrily.

* * *

Karen

 Sarah didn't really talk to me the rest of the night.  I can't
say I blamed her.  But at least she didn't seem ready and willing to kill
me anymore.  She had good cause.

 After talking for a while, she decided that we'd have to hope
Scott survived, and hope he could get in touch with us.  Sarah said he
knew where we were staying, and knew our home address.  If he was alive,
she said, he'd find us.  We just had to keep our eyes peeled for him.

 Sarah talked hopefully, but I could see in her eyes that she
didn't expect to ever see Scott again.  Her heart was broken, and I was
the reason why.

 As we went to bed that evening, I said a little prayer for Scott
Chelgren, wherever he was.  I prayed he would come home safe to my sister.

 I hoped my prayers would be answered.

* * *

Sadako

 I put the little man in the drawer by my bed, and closed it all
the way.  I didn't want him escaping.  Tomorrow, I would take him out to
the beach with me, and then back to Japan tomorrow night.

 I couldn't wait to show him to all of my friends back home.

 I awoke in a drawer, just like the day before.  The drawer was
open just a tiny crack, just like the day before.  I hoped against hope
that my memory of the last day was distorted somehow, that I had but
dreamed of Karen, and Sadako (if that was her name), and getting lost,
and the shower....

 No, it had not been a dream.  I knew that before Sadako opened
the drawer and smiled at me.  I was lost in L.A., and I had no idea how
to find Sarah.

 But I would have to find her.  I have said often that I love
Sarah, but it was at that moment that I realized how deeply this was
true.  Sadako was comely, yes, but it didn't matter to me.  My one true
love was Sarah, and I would find her, if it took me forever.

 Sadako reached down for me.  I didn't resist.

* * *

Sarah

 Karen and I did our best to pretend to enjoy Disneyland.  I did
my best not to break down in tears when I saw "Honey, We Shrunk
Ourselves" in the gift shop.  I think Disneyland would have been fun, if
Scott hadn't been missing, and probably dead.

 I had come to the conclusion, during the sleepless night I had
just spent, that I shouldn't blame Karen for my mistake.  Scott was gone
because I didn't safeguard him enough, didn't think things through well,
didn't follow my instincts and carry him with me.  I thought back to our
last conversation, and how hurried I had been when I left.

 I felt sick.  I just hoped that, wherever he was, Scott knew that
I loved him.  And I hoped that I would get the chance to tell him myself,
someday.

* * *

Scott

 We were going to the beach.

 Sadako was stunning in her yellow bikini.  She had placed me in
her bikini bottoms, so as not to lose me, and I was very, very aroused.
So was Sadako, if the warmth and moisture that surrounded me was any
gauge.

 I had to escape; I realized that, now.  Sadako was not going to
stay in the U.S. forever, and if I was taken out of the country, it made
things that much more difficult.  Besides, I was going to need help to
find Sarah; that help had to speak English, or at least be able to
understand my fractured German.

 So I plotted.  And I came up with a plan.

 I waited for Sadako to stretch out in the sun.  Then, I slowly
worked my way up her front, towards her clitoris.  I began to massage it
gently, and slowly worked my way into a frenzy.

 I hoped this would work.

* * *

Sadako

 The sun was high, and I laid down, enjoying its warmth.  Soon, I
started to feel something.  I realized that the little man was moving.
He felt very good down there.

 He was doing something.  I wasn't sure what, but it felt very
good.  I hoped he would keep it up.  He did, and I felt better and
better, until I started losing control.  I has having an orgasm!  Right
on the beach, no less!  I hoped nobody would notice.  I looked down at my
bikini bottoms, and they were soaked.  I couldn't let my father see
this!  I would have to wash off in the sea.  But that would drown the
little man!  Sighing, I looked around.  Quickly, I pulled the little man
out.  He was drenched.  I didn't know I had it in me!  I dumped out the
rest of my tea, and turned the cup over on top of him.  I hoped he
wouldn't escape.  Then, I hurried down to the sea.

 I would never see him again.

* * *

Scott

 My plan had worked perfectly!  As Sadako left, I took advantage
of a little trick I had learned, lying down and using what leverage I had
to lift the cup.  I pulled myself to freedom.

 Well, such as it was.  I was still just an inch tall, on a beach
swarming with people.  I would have to find a safe port, and fast.

 I had been walking for no more than a minute when my life almost
ended.  A huge, bare foot came crashing down an inch in front of me, and
another fell right beside it.  I stared up.  It was a teenager, about
Sarah's age.  She was pretty, wearing an aquamarine swimsuit and that
mandated-by-law California bleach blond hair.  She was looking for a
place to spread out, and she had chosen this spot.  She already had laid
her towel down, and now, she was preparing to lay herself down.

 Well, any port in a storm....

 I waited for her to lie down.  It was an amazing sight.  The girl
was about as attractive as possible.  She was tanned and toned, and had
huge breasts--and not just from my perspective.  She was gorgeous.

 Watching this four hundred-odd foot tall giantess stretch out was
amazing.  Still, I didn't want her to discover me--at least not yet.
Sarah had warned, at least obliquely, that not all women were as kind as
her.  I figured I should try to hide, observe the girl, and see if she
was like Sarah or not.

 I quickly found a refuge.  The girl had brought a bag with her.
Her rollerblades were inside, as was a wraparound and a t-shirt.  I
climbed up into the bag.  I figured it was best if I stayed out of sight,
and in the shade.

 I did keep watch, though.  The bag was canvas, and there were
holes in the fabric large enough for me to keep watch through.  The girl
was lying on her stomach, and my view was dominated by her tremendous
left foot.  She was tanning, just resting, and her foot traced slow
circles.  I was fascinated.  It was almost as good as television.

 After an hour or so, she rolled over, and sat up.  She then
pulled the bag over to her, and looked inside.

 I wasn't afraid of being found.  I crouched beneath her
wraparound, and watched her remove a forty-foot tall tube of sunscreen.
Then, I watched her rub it across the front of her body.  I was amazed.
(So, probably, were several other men on the beach that day.)  After this
bit of business was complete, she set the bag down next to her, and lay
on her back.

 My view now was of her right side, near her breast.  The breast
soared triumphanty skyward, and I was enraptured.  I hoped she was a nice
giantess.

 The heat of the day was getting to me.  I began to doze, and
finally fell asleep.

* * *

 I knew something was wrong.

 I sat up quickly, and was stunned to find myself in a cage.

 This was bad, I thought.

 The giantess from before was sitting there, watching me.  "Ah, so
you're awake!  Good, I was afraid you were in a coma or something.  You
wouldn't do me much good like that."

 There was something in her voice that sent chills up my spine.
This was not a soul like Sarah's--it may have been her opposite.

 I was in big trouble.

 She smiled an icy smile.  "So, little man, can you talk?"

 "Um...yes, yes."

 "NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" she suddenly screamed.  The air knocked me
 backwards.  "I found you, hiding in my bag.  I don't know what you were
doing there--and I won't ask.  But I have found you, fair and square, and
you will show me the respect I deserve, flea.  You will address me as
mistress.  Now stand up straight, and address me properly."

 Now this was one heck of a mood swing.  But not wanting to place my
life in jeopardy (or even the Family Feud), I did so.  When you're one inch
tall, you don't have much room to bargain.  "Yes, mistress, I can talk."

 "Good," she purred.  "Very good.  You and I are going to get
along swimmingly, aren't we?"

 "Yes, mistress."

 The girl smiled.  A cruel smile.  "I'll be back.  Don't go anywhere."

 As she left, I knew I was in big, big trouble.  I tried to undo
the latch on the cage, but it was locked, and besides, I'm not all that
strong.  I could maybe pick it--my hand was small enough to reach up into
the lock--but I had no clue where I'd go--I was on top of the girl's
dresser, and I was afraid I might be trapped.

 I heard the girl approaching, and quickly backed away.  Not
quickly enough, though.

 "So, trying to escape?  I DON'T THINK SO, little man!  You'd
better get used to that cage, because that's where you're going to
stay--when I'm in a good mood.  But seeing you trying to leave has put me
in a bad mood."  She opened the cage, and grabbed me between thumb and
forefinger--hard.  I felt a rib crack as she squeezed.

 "Why are you doing this?" I cried, but she simply squeezed
harder, and asked, "What, are you questioning me?"

 I gasped for air.  "No...Mistress...."

 "Good," she said, tossing me five feet onto her bed.

 I lay on my stomach, groaning.  I felt my rib.  It would heal
itself in a day or so (a fortunate byproduct of whatever changed me--I heal
really, really fast), but that didn't help me now.  And it wouldn't help
me if this girl killed me--which she apparrently had it within her to do.

* * *

Victoria
(excerpted from sessions conducted by Dr. Kara Lincoln, Psy.D., with
permission of Ms. S_____.)

 Look, don't give me any of your shit about abusing him.  I
fucking know abuse, okay?  Just because the little asshole is all tiny
and cute, you guys go and get all mushy, and think I'm some sort of evil
bitch from Hell.  Trust me, if he was 6'1, he'd be slapping someone
around.  That's how guys are.  So don't fucking start.  I hurt him, sure,
but I've been hurt worse.

 Christ, I'm fucked up.

* * *

 Maybe you just get high on the power.  I mean, you try holding a
one inch tall man in your hand and not feeling power.  You are a
goddess.  The queen of the fucking world.  And this little ant can do
nothing to you.  And you can use him to get back at everyone who ever
fucked you over.  Because now you're in charge, and you don't have to
listen, and you don't have to submit.  You think you wouldn't, don't
you?  You think you'd be gentle, don't you?

 You try it.  See how you feel.  Then judge me.

* * *

Scott

 I curled up instinctively, into the fetal position.  I was afraid
of what was coming, and damn sure aware that I could do nothing about it.

 
 "Little man, look at me.  I'm giving you five seconds...."

 She didn't have to count.  I turned, stood up, and winced.
That rib hurt like crazy.  But it was stand and pay my respects, or maybe
die.  And I had sworn to see Sarah again.  I'd just have to survive
this.  I hoped.

 "Little man, I am going out.  My friends called, and they want me
to come over.  And that's where I'm going.  But I'm concerned about your
escape attempt.  I don't want to get back here and find you gone.  So I'm
taking you with me.  And to make sure you don't go anywhere....

 With that, she slipped her panties down, and placed me in them.
"Stay put.  Or I'll kill you, bug."  She pulled the panties up, and I
found to my chagrin that I was not in the anterior portion of them.  The
girl arranged me so that I was between two enormous cheeks.  Then, once
she felt I was secure, She walked off.

 I was in big trouble.

* * *

Victoria

 He felt pretty good back there, if I do say so.  I let him wiggle
a bit, and felt the power running through my body.  As I slipped behind
the wheel of daddy's Jag, I worried not a bit about killing him, but I
hoped I wouldn't.  I wanted to show my prize off.

 I kicked the car into gear, and headed out into the street.

Scott

 The last time I was sat on, I was able to escape
quickly.  I  wasn't even hurt.  Indeed, I thought at the time
that there were  certainly worse ways to go.

 Well, there may be, but if so, I hope not to find
'em.

 I had cracked another rib from the pressure, I was
finding it  hard to breathe, and the smell wasn't outstanding.
The fact that the  girl's ass was just about perfect was but
small consolation.  She was,  literally, killing me.

 Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the
pressure  suddenly abated.  The girl was standing up.

 I just hoped I'd survive the experience.

* * *

Kathy

 Honestly, I'm not sure why we hung out with
Victoria.  She always went  on and on about how important her
dad was.  I mean, sure, her dad's a big exec  for Dreamworks
SKG, but big deal!  I mean, my mom's a cinematographer at
Paramount, but I never put on airs about it.  Liz' Dad is a
screenwriter,  she doesn't brag about it.  But with Tory, it's
always, "My dad knows  Steven Spielberg," or "my dad had lunch
with Jeff Katzenberg."  It's a  bit annoying.  Okay, it's way
annoying.

 But we hung out with Victoria anyhow.

 It was about seven or so, I guess.  Victoria wanted
to go out  dancing.  Liz and I were more in the mood for coffee,
but Vicki's wishes  would probably carry the day.

 Vicki came bounding up the stairway, grinning from
ear to ear.   She looked different somehow.  Not quite right in
the head.  "She may  have lost it, Kate," whispered Liz.  I
thought Liz was probably right.

 "Liz, Kathy, how are my two dearest friends?  Ready
to go dance  the night away?" said Vicky, strange smile on her
face.

 Liz and I looked at each other.  "Um, Vick...."

 "Let's go, I'm in a good dancing mood."

 There was a pause, while Liz and I silently debated
arguing with  Vicki.  We decided against it.  Sometimes, you've
just gotta give  in...especially when your friend appears to be
psychotic.

 "All right, let's go," I sighed.  This night wasn't
going to be  all that fun after all.

 "Just a sec, gals, gotta run to the bathroom quick.
Be right  back, after...."  She giggled, thus reassuring us that
she was not all  there.  But then again, Vicki never was.

* * *

Scott

 I heard the conversation, and let out a groan.
Somehow, I didn't  think this was a good place to be at a
club--especially in my present  state.  I think my right
shoulder was dislocated.  I know I had another  broken rib, and
from the way my head felt, I was either suffering from  hypoxia,
or a concussion, or both.

 Suddenly, the floor dropped out from under me, and I
fell twenty  feet or so into the soft cushion of the girl's
(Vicki's?) panties.  I was  relieved, as I could breathe freely,
if painfully.

 Vicki grabbed me roughly, and brought me to her
face.  I'm sure I  looked like hell, but she didn't seem to
care.  "You are fine, aren't  you?" she hissed.

 "Yes...mistress...." I murmured, reflexively.  I
didn't know why,  but it seemed the right answer.

 "Good...very good.  You're a very fast learner.
Just for that,  you get to visit another part of my body.
Hmmm...I know."  With that,  she shoved me hard into her vagina.
 I was pinned in place by powerful  muscles, and I realized how
gently Sarah conducted herself.  Vicki was  not gentle, and I
was crushed as firmly as I had been when she sat on me.

 And now, we were going to dance.

 Not good.  Not good at all.

* * *

Elizabeth

 I don't even know why we hang out with Victoria.  I
mean, it's  not like she's nice, or cool, or even friendly.
She's a real bitch,  y'know?  And we don't anymore, because,
well, she's in the nervous  hospital now....

Sorry, I know, I'm getting ahead of the story, you
wanted it in  the order it happened, and all that.

 Sorry.

 Anyhow, that girl has, like, seriously bad karma.
She's mean,  and psycho, and just annoying, and I hope I never
see her again.

 Whatever.  Anyhow, we went out to this really sleazy
dance club  that Vicky seemed to like.  She was just going nuts
on the dance floor,  grabbing any guy that moved.  It was almost
like she was having sex right  out on the floor, she was
screaming and howling and shit.  It was crazy,  no lie.

* * *

Victoria

 I thought the little man felt good beneath me, but
that was  nothing compared to how he felt inside me.

 Yum....

 I was high on orgasms and herbal ecstacy.  It was
the best night  of my life.  I would have gone home with this
one guy who was soooooo  cute, but Liz and Kathy had to drag me
out of the club around one or so.   Bitches.  Just because I was
having too much fun.

 But I was still happy, because I had my little
friend.  He would  satisfy me more tonight.  He had done well so
far.

* * *

Scott

 I was dying.  I knew it.

 I had been crushed inside of Victoria, and now I was
bleeding and  tattered.  My bones were powder.  My muscles were
ripped.  How I had  survived this long was beyond me.

 I saw panties being pulled down, but I was rising,
rising....

* * *

 I always thought the Light was made up.  But it's
real.  I went  towards it.

 As I approached, I saw someone, or something,
approaching.  A  girl, sixteenish, with wild, jet-black hair,
and an ankh pendant.

 The Angel of Death.  Neil Gaiman style.  Just the
way I'd always  pictured her.

 "Scott," she said softly, "not yet.  You still have
a lot of  magic left."

 I started to question, but before I got the chance,
I was  falling, falling, back into the pain and anguish.

* * *

Victoria

 The little man couldn't take it.  He was weak, I
guess.  But  before I got rid of him, I decided to show him to
Liz and Kathy.

 "Hey guys, get a load of this.  He's dead, but he
was fun while  he lasted."  I smiled.  Bastard got what he
deserved.  All men deserve  that fate.

 I expected my friends to think he was cool.  They
didn't,  though.  I wonder why.

* * *

Elizabeth

 I was sick.

 Victoria was showing us this little man she pulled
out of her  cunt.  He was barely breathing, a huge bruise from
head to toe.  And she  was showing him off!  She thought it was
cool how she'd killed him.

 Bitch.

 I wanted to slap her right there--I know, violence
is bad karma,  but I'd drop back a cycle to clock her.

 Fortunately, Vicki was tired, and she decided that
she needed to  lie down.  As she drifted off to sleep, Liz
managed to grab hold of the  little man, and I put Vicki to bed.
 

 It was alive, whatever it was.  I wondered if it was
intelligent,  like us, or just an animal.  Whatever, it was
alive, and worthy of  respect.  I tried to think of something I
could do to help it.

* * *

Kathy

 The poor little thing was dying.  I knew Vicki was
nuts, but I  didn't realize how nuts.

He needed something with healing power, and not
doctors or  anything.  I mean true healing power.

 "We've got to help him.  Poor guy never did
anything," I said.  I  couldn't believe that Victoria was in the
next room, sleeping soundly,  after murdering someone.

 Well, not quite--he was breathing, but labored.  He
was alive for  now.  But saving him would require forces beyond
the pale of ordinary  science--Liz and I were sure of that.

 So she and I pulled out our Astrology books, and our
healing  books, and even this one book called "Magck," and we
were about to give  up, when I found a spell that looked like it
may work.

 "Change," I said.  "Creates a change in the life of
the  incanter."

 "That's not exactly what we need," said Liz.

 "Yeah--but when used with good crystals and a
variation on this spell,   it could create a change in the life
of a different person--like our little  man."

 "Really?"

 "That's what the book says."

 We put him in the big crystal downstairs, and both
of us read the  incantation.  Strange, but I swear I saw him
move a little as we did it.   Anyhow, having done all we could
do, we went to sleep.  We hoped the  little guy would make it.

* * *

Scott

 I awoke slowly.  Then, quickly.  I was alive?  I was
alive!  I  didn't know how, or why, but I was alive, and it felt
great.

 The pain was gone, and I was in a huge crystal
palace.   I stood  up, and examined myself.  All the bruises and
the broken bones were  gone!  I was as good as new!

 But where was I?

 Fearfully, I crept forward.  I realized I was in a
huge crystal,  the kind you can buy down at the Nature Company
if you've got $450 to  blow on a huge crystal.  It was on a
table of some sort--a dining room  table, perhaps.  I walked
slowly out, and saw an immense purse.

 It wasn't Victoria's, thankfully.  It was a big one,
though, with  a longer and thicker strap than usual, and--wait,
that made no sense.

 Then I saw a newspaper--and knew what had happened.

 I had shrunk again.

 By a factor of two, near as I could figure.  I was
now about half  an inch tall.

 That made my life more difficult, but at the moment,
I wasn't  quibbling.  By all rights I should've been dead.  That
I was merely  shorter didn't faze me.

 I wasn't sure where Victoria was, but I meant to get
as far away  from her as possible.  I walked towards the purse.
I could stow away in  here, and worry about escape later.  At
least I'd be away from  Victoria--and thus a million times safer.

 I crawled into the purse, and rested.  I rested easy.

* * *

 My purse was on the table, next to Kathy's crystal.
I grabbed  it, and headed out the door.  Damn, I hate 4 A.M. to
6 P.M. days.

 But I'm not a director, or a producer.  I'm a
cinematographer,  and I don't get to set hours.

 So I hopped into my Lexus and headed off to the
Studio.  With  luck, I'd beat Sandra there.

* * *

Kathy

 Liz and I talked all night.  We didn't know what to
do about  Victoria.  After my mom left, I went downstairs to
check on the little  man--and he was gone!  Escaped, or removed
by the hand of God, I don't  know.  But it gave me an idea.

 When Victoria woke up, we started in on her.  The
two of us  talked about how concerned we were, how she made up
this little guy,  bragged about killing him.  We were worried
for her.  We thought she may  be going a bit nuts.

 Which is why we called her Dad, and told him she was
going crazy.

 Two days later, she was institutionalized.  Seems
nobody bought  her story about a one-inch-tall man, and when
disbelieved, she started to  get violent.

 I don't feel sorry for her.  Serves her right.

* * *

Lolita

 I reached the set at 3:55, and Sandra was there,
waiting patiently.

 "Ms. Bullock," I said, smiling.

 "For the last time--SANDRA," she smiled back.  "I
know the studio  keeps trying to tell everyone to be deferential
to me, but I don't care.   I'm Sandra.  What's up, Lolita?"

 I liked Sandra; she was pretty normal, for an
actress.

 I sat down, and started to talk about today's shoot.

* * *

Scott

 I pulled myself out of the purse, and rubbed my eyes.

 Sandra Bullock?

 Maybe I was dead--and in heaven now.

 No.

 If I was, Sarah would be there.

Sarah

 My dreams had been nightmares.  Scott was in pain,
being tortured. He was dying, he was dying and it was all my
fault!

 I awoke, and was sobbing.  I looked up, and there
was a girl, ghostly pale.  She smiled gently.  I looked for
Karen and Susi, but they weren't there.

 I was not awake.

 "Don't worry," the girl said, as I slowly turned
back to her. "He'll be okay.  I'm not taking him yet."  She
smiled, and abruptly disappeared.

 And I was dreaming still.  I was one inch tall, and
monstrous girls surrounded me.  I saw Scott, full-sized, naked
and trembling.  I tried to run to him, but hands dropped in
front and behind me, blocking every turn.  Scot screamed for me,
but I could not reach him.

 Then, one of the girls picked me up.  She licked her
lips, and dropped me into her mouth.  I tried to escape, but she
slowly, inexorably worked me towards the back to her throat.  I
screamed.  She swallowed.

 I awoke.

* * *

Scott

 Sarah is the most beautiful human ever.  That is a
higher truth, not subject to question.  Beautiful physically,
beautiful spiritually, beautiful intellectually, Sarah is
perfect, and I wouldn't trade her for a thousand other girls.

 That said, I couldn't help but notice the presence
of Sandra Bullock across the table from me.

 I have had a crush on Sandra Bullock for years, ever
since Speed came out.  Hers was the one "girlie" poster I
had.  I had always dreamed of meeting Sandra one-on-one, and
charming the pants off her.  In more ways than one, of course.

 Now, the object of my affection was one hundred
fifty yards away. I considered all of my options, and decided
that I was certainly not bad off with Sandra.  After all, if she
found me, she was a celebrity, and she had the resources to
reuinte me with Sarah safely.  And if I stayed with my present
keeper, I could end up back in (or under) Victoria's lap.  Yep,
Sandra it was.

 So I left the purse, which was resting on the coffee
table, and strode purposefully towards Sandra.

 The fact that she was in short, short shorts had
nothing to do with it.  Nothing at all.

* * *

Sandra

 I hate early-morning shoots.  I'd much rather sleep
in 'til noon, wander down to the set, make movie magic, and go
home around two in the afternoon.

 Actually, I probably could make 'em do it....Nah,
It'd be all over the Enquirer: "Lazy Sandra Sleeps In, Co-Stars
Hate Her."  Not good, especially since my agent assures me that
I need to postiton myself as the next "America's Sweetheart."

 Of course, I've told my agent what he can position
himself in, but that just gets me laughed at.

 At least Lolita was easy to work with at 4:10 in the
morning. She's finally getting a chance to work as a
full-fledged cinematographer, and if she keeps it up, she'll be
directing in a few years.  She should, too--she's good at it.
Maybe I'll demand she direct my next movie.  (I'm kidding!
Really!)

 Anyhow, it was coffee and croissant for breakfast.
I suppose I should have been eating a scraped bagel, but I
didn't care.  I just ate away, and talked about today's shoot.

* * *

Scott

 The croissant loomed like a small office park.  The
coffee was large as a water tower.  I had just gotten used to
croissants only looming like houses, and coffee being as large
as a firehouse.  Oh well, I'd made the adjustment once before,
I'd just have to do it again.

 I began scaling the uneaten side of the croissant.
I figured it was better than trying to jump into Sandra's lap.
I didn't have to wait for long before the croissant was lifted
by an enormous, lovely left hand, and brought to enormous,
beautiful lips.

 I was transfixed, watching Sandra take a bite out of
the croissant.  As she chewed, I rushed forward, not to get a
better view, but to jump.  I timed it carefully, and just as the
croissant began to lower, I leapt to the front of her t-shirt.
I grabbed hold at stomach level.

 Millimeters away was the perfect washboard stomach
of Sandra Bullock.  I debated momentarily, and began to climb
upwards.  I decided to try to get Sandra's attention.

 So I began to climb.  It wasn't that hard, actually.
 At my smaller size, threads made good handholds, and I found
myself making great progress.  I reached the base of her breasts
just as she polished off the last bit of croissant, and rose.

 We headed off together, towards wherever we were
going.

* * *

Sandra

 I studied my costume with a mix of horror and
dismay.  I don't know why I let my agent talk me into doing a
period piece.  Well, yes I do--Jane Campion is a great person to
work with, and I've always liked those types of stories--but
still, those seventeenth-century costumes!  To think anyone ever
wore them!

 But no matter what you've heard, I'm a pro.  I
sighed, whined a little, and pulled my shirt off.  Then I began
to tackle the corset.

* * *

Scott

 I wasn't about to go with the shirt.  As Sandra
pulled it off, I leapt into her hair.  Well, it wasn't the
safest place, but it beat the bejeezus out of the studio
laundry.

 It was a bit like standing in a field of
kiwi-scented barley during an 8.4-on-the-richter-scale
earthquake.  Pleasant, if you didn't fancy standing up.

 I didn't.  I simply hunkered down, grabbed an
armfull of sweet-smelling  hairs, and hung on for dear life.
Sandra was struggling with her costume (I heard her mumble a few
oaths), but finally got into whatever she was trying on.

 She looked down.  At this instant, I lost my grip,
and slid out, past her bangs, and right onto her perfect nose.
I tried to get her attention, but she instead made as if to
smack me.  (It made sense.  I was but a gnat to her, and I'm
sure she didn't even try to clobber me consciously.)

 Discretion being the better part of valor, I pushed
off, just before an index finger brushed the top of her nose.
She let out a breath through her nostrils, that blew me down and
towards her.  I landed on a soft surface--once which I
recognized immediately.

 Sandra's breast.

 I was standing on Sandra Bullock's right breast.

* * *

Sandra

 The corset was the most difficult part; the rest was
just frilly clothes, which went on easily.  Of course, I
couldn't sit down and still breathe, and to make matters worse,
the fabric itched--on my breasts, of all places!

 But I'm a pro.  At six thirty sharp, I was on the
set, and ready to present the person of Jane Macgowan, Duchess
of Ghent.

 I'm going to kill my agent.

  * * *

Scott

 I spent the morning in grim twilight, resting on
Sandra's breast, deeply conflicted as to what I should do.

 I had no desire to cheat on Sarah.  And yet--how
many men could say they touched Sandra Bullock's breasts?
[Note: No jokes here! Sandy]  And I could see much more
of her, if I wanted to.

 And part of me wanted to.  Badly.

 But that part was slowly overruled by the whole of
me that loved and honored Sarah.  By lunch break, I had finally
rid myself of any need to explore Sandra further.  I had rested
comfortably on her breast.  That was enough.

 But fate would conspire to show me more.

* * *

Sarah

 We were down at Venice Beach.  I don't know
why--it's where tourists from Apple Valley, Minnesota go, I
guess. Anyhow, Karen and I were wandering about, looking glum, I
suppose, and quietly coming to terms with our loss.

 That was when we came upon the fortune teller.

 Everyone knows that fortune tellers are all either
really old faux gypsy women, or attractive young women who do
topless readings.

 This fortune teller had no clue.  It was a guy, late
thirties, with a ragged goatee and Ray-Bans, and that gaunt look
that people who've recently lost a lot of weight have.  He was
humming, and playing solitaire with his tarot cards.  He looked
up as we passed.

 "Hi folks!  Fourtunes forecast, lucky charms,
oodelolly!"

 This stopped me.  "What?!?" I asked.

 "Well, it worked in Disney's Robin Hood,
thought I'd give it a shot.  Dave Machina, fortune teller, at
your service."

 "What makes you think we want your service?" asked
Karen, and I nodded.  But at least it was occupying my mind.
For a brief second.

 "Let's see...If I can convince you, in one minute or
less, that I know what I'm doing, will you fork over twenty
bucks for the reading?"

 "And if you don't convince us?"

 "The reading's on me.  My treat."

 I paused.  "What if we lied to you?  Bad business,
my friend."  I started to walk.

 "You've lost something very dear to you.  The most
precious thing you've ever had.  You've been searching for it,
to no avail.  You are despondent; you are losing hope.  You
dreamt about it this morning."

 He pulled his glasses down, just a bit, and smiled.
"Well, milady...tanstaafl.  You are convinced, are you not?"  I
fished in my purse, pulled out a twenty, plus something for
luck, and sat down.  "Tell me more, David."

 "Call me D.X."

* * *

Scott

 I was hoping that Sandra would undo herself for
lunch.  I wanted out of this woolen prison.  Not that I'm
complaining about the floor beneath me, but the ceiling was
sucking in the Los Angeles heat like crazy.  And I was hot
enough that I didn't care if it was Sandra Bernhardt's breast
beneath me--I wanted out!

 But I wasn't getting out.  At least Sandra went back
into her air-conditioned trailer.  But I guess she was tired,
because she laid down.  Not a problem.  Except that she was
laying down on her stomach.

 I felt it coming seconds before she hit, and had
just enough time to dive clear her breasts, and down into her
corset.

 I came to rest at the base of her sternum.  I could
see almost nothing, but I felt her body arching upwards--she was
resting on her elbows.  Which made it impossible to go up--at
least as tight as this corset was.  But it was possible to go
downwards.

 I considered a few seconds.  I could literally walk
out the bottom of Sandra's skirts.  I'd be free, and if I
hurried, I could even get back around to try to get her
attention, before lunch was over.

 If I stayed put, I'd sweat off every ounce of mass I
had--and I was less than an ounce already.

 It was an easy choice.  I slid down along her
stomach.

 Damn, Sandra had a nice stomach.

* * *

Karen

 This guy was good.  Really good.  I don't know how
he did it, but he knew everything.  He knew "the object" was
small, that I had borrowed it without asking, and that I had
lost it.

 He told us about our fight--almost blow-for-blow.

 And then he told us about the object.

 "Let's see...it was found by a tourist from a
far-off land.  Asia, I think, although it might be
Australia...definitely Far East, though...."

 At this my sister tensed up.  If Scott was overseas,
finding him would be next to impossible.

 Like it wasn't already.

 "It was lost by him (her?) as well....found by a
teenager...she did not tend it well.  It was damaged.  Badly."

 At this, my sister started to cry, just a bit.

 Well, so did I.

 "Don't fear though...her friends repaired it...and
now...now it is in the area...someone famous has posession of
it, though this person does not realize it....more I cannot say."

 "So he...um, it is okay?" I asked.

 "Yes, good as new."

 "Will we ever find it again?"

 "I sense that this object is going through
change...great change...but these changes are grounding and
defining it.  It is a powerful object, full of energy.  And it
is reaching out, searching for you.  Just as you search for it.
You will find this object.  Sooner than you think.

 "Our time is up.  I hope I have been of assistance."

 He turned back to his solitaire game.  My sister and
I looked at each other, and smiled, barely.

 Maybe there was hope, after all.

* * *

Scott

 I reached her belly button, and realized that I had
made a very foolish error.  How could I just walk under her?
She was lying on her stomach, a fact made clear by a wall of
flesh.

 Before I had a chance to reverse course, Sandra
stood up, and I found myself dropping.  In that split second I
fell to the to of her panties.  I tried to pull myself out, but
my right leg was caught inside the elastic.

 I was trapped.

 I tried in vain to free myself, but nothing would
work.  My leg felt like it was on fire, as I hung upside down.

 I couldn't get out, and if I stayed like this, I'd
lose my leg.

 So I did the only thing I could do.

 Sarah, I'm sorry.

* * *

Sandra

 I went over the script, and murmured through my
lines over lunch. Then, it was back to the treadmill.  I had to
have a big romantic scene with Ewan McGregor, then give him a
kiss, and then we closed up for the day.

 Not too tough, I thought.

 The scene went well on the first try, but there are
endless angles to be shot.  We had to do it fifteen different
ways.  Joy.

 But I got to kiss Ewan forty-odd different times.
There are worse things one could spend Thursday afternoon doing.

 It was maybe on the thirteenth take that I started
to feel it.  I don't know why.  I mean, Ewan is handsome and not
a bad kisser, but I've kissed enough handsome leading men that I
can control myself, totally.  I don't get so much as cheerful
about it.  Not when it's work.

 But I could feel a tingling, just barely at first,
then growing slowly.

 Very unprofessional.  But fun.

* * *

Scott

 I landed with a whumpf! on her clitoris, then
bounced down into the bottom of her most under of garments.

 The smell of Sandra filled my little world.  I could
feel the heat like a blowtorch on my soul.  I tried to hold
back, tried to tell myself that I wasn't going to cheat on
Sarah...when I found myself halfway up Sandra's thicket of hair,
on my way to her clitoris again.

 I touched it gingerly.  It was twice the size of the
equipment I was used to, but I figured I could manage.

 I began to stroke it.

* * *

Sandra

 We were done in twenty-three takes; Jane said my
acting was so good she could "feel the lust burning within" me.
Well, it was, but not for Ewan.  In fact, I'm not sure who it
was for--only that I held off until I reached my trailer, barred
the door, and fairly ripped my costume off, pulled my panties
down, and found myself already coming.

 I touched myself again.  This was fun.

* * *

Scott

 I was washed away right before Sandra reached for
herself.  I dropped a mile, it seemed, before landing on
Sandra's foot.

 Sandra completed her business, and then walked over
to her bed, to change back into civies.  I was most concerned
about holding on to her foot, until she started slipping her
sock on.  I was quick to grab on to the top as it came over
me--I had no desire to be crushed to death.

 Sandra laced up her tennies and walked on out of the
trailer.  I was going home with her.

* * *

Sandra

 I drove home, humming all the way.  I don't pretend
to know what set me off, and I'm not going to worry about it.  I
had other things to worry about.

Scott

 I was shoulder-deep in the carpet in Sandra
Bullock's bedroom.

 And cursing myself.

 My resistance had been futile.  Biology had
overwhelmed me, and I'd cheated on Sarah.

 No way, pally--you did it yourself.

 Like Hell!  I was overcome.  You try being
celibate while sitting in a woman's panties.

 You didn't have to run to Sandra in the first place.
 You could have stayed put.  But you ran to her like a schoolboy.

 She was a good option.  The best I had.

 And you didn't notice her shorts, chum?

 Damn it.

* * *

Sandra

 The dress had come, along with the nice new diamond
necklace I'd ordered.  They went well together--and the green
looked nice.  Better than pink--I'm never wearing pink again as
long as I live.

 So I did myself up nice, did my hair myself (a girl
needs some skills, you know), and put the necklace on--missed
the clasp and dropped it.

 Oh well, no harm done.  I picked it up off the floor
and put it on.  And then I was on my way.  I was almost later
than fashionably late. Not good.

* * *

Scott

 I was going to stay back, and figure out a way onto
Sandra's bed, when that necklace dropped, three feet from me.

 Well, I'm not an idiot.  I grabbed on, and rode it
all the way to Sandra's neck.

 I could maybe get her attention if I reached her
ear.  I'd have to try.

 But her hair was up!  I would have to bide my time,
wait for a stray hair to work its way free.

 In the meantime, I'd enjoy the party.  From my odd
vantage point, it was hard people watching, but it looked like
there were other stars there.  I though I saw Sherilyn Fenn, and
maybe Alicia Silverstone, but I wasn't sure...the world went by
at warp speed.  The fly on the wall doesn't see much, especially
when that wall is moving.

 I finally got my chance, after what seemed like
hours of waiting. One solitary hair broke free from Sandra's
'do, and floated down towards me, a perfect rope.  I made like a
gym student, and started to climb.

 For about a second--then that hair broke loose
completely.

 Now, at half an inch tall, I was subject to gravity,
but that hair was long enough to catch a breeze, and I rode to
dizzying heights. Finally, after soaring several feet in the
air, I began to descend.

 I was falling slowly towards a tray of hors
d'oeuvres, carried unsteadily by a servant apparently too
interested in star-gazing to attend to her duty properly.  I
tried to float towards it--I hoped to avoid landing on the floor.

 I would have been fine, but just as I was about
touch down on an empty part of the platter, the servant tipped
it up ever-so slightly, causing me to fly straight into pate or
something.  I let go of the hair, and watched it float upwards
again as I tried to free myself.

 Whatever it was, I was stuck fast.  I hoped that I
would work myself free in time to avoid being eaten.

 I wasn't quick enough, however.  I felt the cracker
lift, and turned to see, just briefly, an immense face,
familiar--a singer, wasn't it?  No matter--she was going to eat
me.

 I kept it up, though--I wasn't going to go down if I
didn't have to.  And I got lucky--I freed myself just as she
popped the whole cracker into her mouth.

 I searched frantically for someplace to alight.  I
worked my way under her tongue, hoping to wait things out there.
I was being pulled backwards, though, and I thought all was
lost, until I felt the piece of metal.

 A tongue stud.  The back of it, to be specific.  I
grabbed hold for dear life.

 I might live to be hanged yet.

* * *

Mel B.

 The party wasn't bad.  Not that I like Hollywood
parties, but still, they aren't bad.

 All five of us were there, of course--we're like a
matched set.  I mean, I love the rest of the group, but I really
can't wait for my solo deal to come through.  I need a break.

 Anyhow, I was eating the pate (which was terrible,
by the way--there were chunks in it!  One got stuck on my
stud--underneath, thank God), and Geri said we should leave and
go back to the hotel--I couldn't disagree, and Em was the only
one who wanted to stick around, and even she didn't really want
to stay, she was just busy hitting on Brad Pitt--so we all five
of us went back to the Ritz Carlton and relaxed.

* * *

Scott

 It was fortunate that this woman talked so much--I
was able to make the leap out of her mouth just as she said the
letter "L," clearing her lips by a good three inches.

 I fell onto her breasts--well, I'm getting used to
it, actually. She was wearing a dress which was, I think,
designed to maximize her decolletage.  From here, I was able to
get a better view of her.  She was black, with wild hair and an
engaging smile.  I thought I recognized her as one of the girls
in that band--Spicy Girls?  I forget.  Karen likes 'em, and
Sarah plays the album once in a while.  I guess they're supposed
to be sort of a female, British New Kids on the Block--well,
female and British is an improvement, I guess.

 Anyhow, we were leaving the party.  I said a silent
goodbye to Sandra, wherever she was, and sighed.  I felt the
gentle undulations of this woman's breasts, and found myself
dozing off.

* * *

 I awoke to find my host disrobing, and myself
sliding off the woman's breasts towards the ground.

There was nothing to grab onto, so I just balled
myself up, and absorbed the blow.  It wasn't so bad, actually.
It hurt even less than it would've when I was an inch tall.
Never did figure out why that was so--something to do with mass,
I guess.

 A familiar/unfamiliar scent permeated the area.  I
looked around--I'd landed in the woman's panties!  A little
g-string number, it looked like.  Indeed, I would've been
suprised if so little fabric could cover a girl my height
adequately.

 I felt myself being lifted, then set on a counter.
I was about to look for an exit, when something completely
unexpected happened.

* * *

Geri

 I've given up on scrunchies, they're a waste of
money, since I never wear them in public.  I wear undies
instead.  I mean, they do the same job, but I've already got
undies.

 But not tonight--all were dirty.  As were Mel's--Mel
B, that is--she's the one that taught me this little trick.

 But her pair that she wore to the party was
perfect--tiny little things, good for many, many different
things.  And she'd only worn 'em for a few hours, so I asked if
I could borrow them.

 No problem, she said, so I tied up my hair and sat
down to watch the tele for a while before I went to sleep.  We
had a video shoot the next day, and I wanted to get some rest.

* * *

Scott

 The hair was not that of the owner of those panties.
 It was a brilliant red, and ordinarily, I would have admired
it, but as it was, I was trapped next to it.

 Well, at least I wasn't falling anywhere.  I was
just hermetically sealed next to the hair of an attractive young
woman.

 My stomach rumbled.  I hadn't eaten since...since
Sadako gave me the rice?  That long?

 I should've eaten some of the pate, rather than try
to escape it.

 No, then I'd be nutrients in the bloodstream of a
different attractive young woman.

 Oh well, there'd be time to eat later.  Right now, I
had to escape my latest predicatment, and try to figure out what
I could do to find Sarah.

* * *

Geri

 I turned off the tele, and went to bed.  It wasn't
very late, but I was sleepy, and I had to get up early the next
day.  I turned off the light, and began to nod off.

* * *

Scott

 I pushed my way free when the woman laid down--her
hair had shifted, and it was an easy drop to the pillow below.

 I looked at her in awe--she was lovely, I realized,
absolutely beautiful.  I thought about trying to contact her,
somehow, but put it aside.  I didn't even know if she would hear
me, and even if she did, what would she do to me?  I didn't want
to find out.

 Instead, I stretched out on the pillow, and tried to
sleep.  If only I was even six inches tall, I though, this would
be easy.

* * *

Geri

 I had the strangest dream that I've ever had that
night.  It seemed really real, too.  But it couldn't have
happened.  It isn't possible.

 I was in my bed, and I looked next to me, and there,
sleeping, was a tiny little man.

 I touched him, and he woke up. I smiled at him.  He
seemed stunned, then started to speak, but before he could, I
picked him up.

* * *

Scott

 I was dreaming--I had to be.  I was huge--six inches
tall, at least.

 The woman picked me up, and kissed me.  "Little
angel," she murmured, dreamily.  "What are you doing here?"

 I answered, "I'm trying to find my girlfriend--"

 "You've found her," said the Giantess, as she slid
me along her breasts.  "I know what you want to do."

 "What?"

"What all men want to do--all the straight ones,
anyhow.  Fuck me, right?"

 I was speechless.  I wanted to say no, but didn't
get a chance. She brought me under her covers, and slid me along
her stomach.

 She spread herself wide, and pushed me in,
headfirst.  I tried to stop her, but my gyrations just seemed to
excite her more.

* * *

Geri

 He was inside me, and I had a delicious feeling.  I
pushed him deeper, then pulled him out.  We repeated this until
I came, and I sighed. A nice dream, I thought lazily, and it
ended with him still inside of me, moving around and trying to
satisfy me.

 A strange dream, and a very pleasant one.

* * *

Scott

 I drifted off to sleep, or back into another
dream--I wasn't sure which.  I was inside of the woman's cunt,
filling it almost completely, and I wished I could stay this
size, but I knew that when I woke up, I'd be back to half an
inch tall.

* * *

 But I was inside of the Giantess.

 What really happened?  Was I really six inches tall?
 
 Or were we both dreaming similar things at the same time?  I
didn't know, but I did know I needed to get out of here--if she
woke up and had to go to the bathroom, I could be flooded out.

 So I climbed until I reached her bush, a huge mass
of red curls, and was about to slide down her inner thigh to
freedom, when she arose.

 I held on for dear life as she fastened her robe
about her and walked.  I leapt to the robe, and was glad to be
on it as she removed it, and went about her business.

 I clambered downwards to the hem of the robe, and
dropped into a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers below.  I could hear
the shower running--these were probably the property of the
shower-user.  I started climbing....

 Too late.  I had just started when the shower
stopped, and moments later, I felt rain on the top of my head.

 It didn't come from a cloud.  It was dripping off of
a shapely foot, that was rapidly lowering itself towards me.

Scott

 The rain fell gently, and if it hadn't been falling from the (very
large) foot of a (very large) woman, I probably would have enjoyed it.

 As it was, I tried to climb out of the slipper quickly--but I was
several feet below the top, and the foot was coming down rather quickly.

 At that moment, I lost my grip, and fell to the bottom of the
slipper.

* * *

Emma

 I love my bunny slippers.  Geri got them for me as a joke when I
turned 21--calling me "Baby Spice" and all and it was quite funny--but
they're really <i>quite</i> comfortable, especially right after you get
out of the shower.

 Unfortunately, it seemed I'd gotten a rock or something in my
slipper today.  I could feel it between my toes, and while it didn't hurt,
it was certainly annoying.

 Well, no time to worry about it--had to get ready.  We had a busy
day ahead of us.

* * *

Scott

 I pulled myself up onto the top of the woman's foot--a nice enough
foot, I suppose.

 Damned dangerous, though.

 I felt her skin shiver beneath me as I slowly crawled forward.  I
was slogging onward, though I really didn't know why.  I wanted to see
Sarah again, but I was beginning to wonder if that was possible.  I was
tired, and spent, and frankly, scared.

 Before that week, I had only been alone for eighteen hours of my
shrunken life.  Oh, sure, there were times when Sarah went somewhere
without me (although not as much as she probably should've), but she
always ensured my safety in advance.  I'd been fending for myself now for
too damn long.  And I didn't know what lay ahead.  Maybe I could free
myself--and then what?  Go where?  Do what?

 I would need help to find Sarah--and I didn't know that I could
trust a female pop band to help me.

 I was thinking these these things as the slipper was removed.  I
held on to the foot of the woman.

 Mistake.

* * *

Emma

 I pulled on my panty hose and examined myself in the mirror.  I
think I looked okay for the video shoot--I hoped so, anyhow.

 The only problem was that my foot itched.  Oh well, new pair of
nylons.  That's to be expected.

 The Mels shouted at me to get going.  We were late.  Oh well,
we're the Spice Girls.  We can do whatever we want.

* * *

Scott

 I'd only been in this position once, although Sarah said once I
should try it.  I don't know, having done it, it's not that fun.
 
 I was pretty well pinned, although I was making slow progress
upwards.  I had to hope that, eventually, I could free myself.

 And again, I was conscious that this was not an unattractive young
woman, with nice legs.  I slid up her legs slowly, always conscious of the
fact that I was becoming aroused.

 I didn't want to be aroused.

* * *

Geri

 We spent the morning rehearsing dance steps--I don't know why,
none of us can actually dance (except Mel, but she doesn't like to show us
up) so we just do stupid little moves that anyone can do if they really
want to.  But the choreographer thinks her work is so important, it's
ridiculous.

 At least we were at the studios for this one.  It was kind of
nice--Paramount let us use their back lot.  I think the video turned out
all right.  Poor Emma, though--she had an itch all day, and it just kept
getting worse as the day wore on.  I think she would have gone insane if
we had stayed too much longer, but we went off for lunch around one or so.

* * *

Scott

 It was a long, bad time for me.  No matter how nice the leg, it
doesn't feel good when it's doing dance moves and you're connected to its
shin.

 I was still moving upwards when we reached the commissary--I had
eaten prescious little this week, and the smell of food was almost
unbearable.

 It was at this moment when the woman made another attempt to
scratch her itch--me, specifically.  She started scratching all around me,
and I just hoped that she wouldn't connect.

 She didn't--but she did put just the tiniest run in her nylons,
right below me.  I didn't have to think--I dropped through the hole, and
found myself clinging to the north face of a woman's calf.

 I began climbing downwards--I had had enough of this ride; I
wanted off.

 I didn't have to wait long--I lost my grip within a few seconds,
and plunged precipitously towards the floor.  I bounced off the top of the
woman's foot, and landed painfully on institutional tile, then hurled
myself out of the way of her falling foot.

 I had a feeling this was going to be dangerous.

 I zigged and zagged, dodging feet as best I could.  One landed
beside me with a whumpf!, knocking me halfway across the floor.

 I landed in front of of a foot in a silver sandal.  I considered
for all of two seconds before I threw myself onto the deck of the sandal,
and worked my way down to the space between big and second toe.

 Any port in a storm, I guess.

 I looked up the dazzling height of the woman whose toes I was
presently inbetween.  She was wearing a sliver dress with white
panties--more about her I couldn't tell.  I thought for a few seconds,
then began to climb.

 It wasn't an easy climb--straight up with only short scraps of
hair for handholds--but I had to make it.  I was running out of
time--Sarah would be going home tomorrow.

 I had to see if this woman could help me.

* * *

 I was worn out by the time I reached her knee.  I had been
climbing for three hours with no rest, and I was completely exhaused.

 As I reached her knee, though, there was at least a promise of
rest.  She was sitting down, and her lap stretching out before me was a
welcome sight.  I tried to go on top of her skirt, but it was a good four
foot rise, and I just couldn't climb anything right then.  Besides, if I
was inside her dress, I would have more opportunities to rest.

 So I began to run along the woman's inside thigh.  It was easy
after the first part of my journey.  I reached her panties in just ten
minutes.  They were cute--lacy, but not overdone.  I caught her scent,
sweet, clean and strong, and it enticed me for a moment, but only a
moment.  I was on a mission.  And I would not fail.

 I climbed to her navel, and elected to rest there for a time.  It
was a nice navel, almost as nice as Sarah's.

 Almost.

* * *

Sarah

 I sighed and munced on a granola bar.  With each passing hour, it
became more unlikely that I would ever see Scott again.

 Karen looked at me, but didn't say anything.  She had stopped
talking yesterday--I guess I wasn't much fun to talk to.

 Well, I wasn't--I was dealing with grief, and I was moving through
denial and anger to acceptance.  I probably would never see Scott again.

 Never again.

 And then the guilt and the sorrow rushed over me like a wave,
drowning me in sadness.

 And I sighed.

 And the pain just got worse.

* * *

Scott

 I crawled along the fabric of the woman's slip, working my way
slowly up towards her breasts.  They were not big, but they were shapely,
and as I leapt onto them, I was impressed by their firmness.  I had been
climbing for almost ten hours, but I was almost to my goal.

 I burst into daylight, and finally got a good look at the woman.
She had short, red hair, and a strong chin.  That was about all I could
see, but my angle was bad.

 Unfortunately, I had timed things badly.  She pulled the dress and
slip off over her head, and removed her bra and panties.  I held on for
dear life as her body heaved and swayed with the excertion.  I hoped she
was just changing.  I was wrong.

 She was showering.

 The water hit her body like a jet, and I probably would have been
killed had she not immediately lathered up a bath sponge and immediately
rubbed it over her right breast.  I wedged myself into a little hole in
the sponge and held on for dear life.

 I did get a good view of the woman's body.  She was lithe, well
toned, and I found myself getting aroused again.

 Finally, she set the bath sponge down and picked up her shampoo.
I was safe for now, anyhow.  I looked at her, and immediately realized who
she was.

 I knew enough about her that I was sure she would help me.  If I
could only get her attention.

* * *

Claire

 I finished shampooing my hair and rinsed it out, shut off the
water and got ready to leave the shower.

 It had been a really long day--no shooting, just script meetings
and stuff like that.  I like working with Jodie Foster, but really, it's
getting silly all the work we're doing.  I mean, just give me the lines
and let's go!  But then again, _Home_for_the_Holidays_ really worked out
well, so I guess I'll trust her judgement.

 Anyhow, I was just about to leave the shower when I got a funny
feeling.  One like I'd never had before.  I turned around--and almost
fainted.

* * *

Scott

 I was gigantic.

 Well, not really.  I was about six inches tall.  But to you all
out there, that's like suddenly being seventy feet tall or so.  It's a bit
disorienting.

 I tried to get even bigger, but couldn't.  It seemed my desire to
be big enough to see had done just that--no more.

 Claire Danes turned slowly and looked at me.  I was afraid--I
mean, how would you feel if you discovered a tiny, naked man in your
shower?  And what would you do to him?

 Probably not what she did.  She bent down towards me, mouth agape,
and said simply, "Who are you?"

* * *

Claire

 It didn't occur to me to be angry.  I mean, he was so small and
helpless that I couldn't build up any rage.  He looked scared as could
be--I didn't want to worry him more.

 I was a bit embarrassed--but he was naked too, and I'm told I have
a pretty good body, so it could be worse.  I was also a bit curious as to
how this man came to be sitting in my shower.  So I asked him who he was,
and how he got there.

 And he told me.

*  * *

Scott

 I told her everything.  After a bit, she pulled on a robe, and
after a bit more, she asked if she could carry me to the kitchen, where we
could sit and eat.  She carried me gently--she reminded me of Sarah.

 "It sounds like you love Sarah very much," she finally observed.

 "More than life itself," I said, sighing.  "I would give anything
to see her again."

 "Well, it's almost two in the morning," observed Claire, "and her
flight leaves when?"

 "Ten tomorrow, Northwest flight 1024 from LAX to Minneapolis."

 "Well then, Scott, we need to get to sleep.  I'll take you there."

 My soul expanded to the breaking point.  I was going to see Sarah
again!  I blinked back tears.  "Thank you, Claire.  I'll never forget
this."

 "It's nothing at all, Scott.  All I ask...well...it's nothing...."

 "Tell me!"

 "Well, it's always been a secret fantasy of mine to...be a
giantess, there, I've said it.  And if you figure out how you shrunk, and
how it can be reversed, please let me know.  That's all I ask."

 I smiled.  "That is something I'll gladly tell you, Claire."

 She beamed back, bent down, and kissed me goodnight.  A quick buss
that left me thoughtful.

 If I ever do figure out what caused me to shrink, I'll damned sure
let Claire know.

 She'll make some man very happy to be small.

* * *

 I awoke early, and went to find Scott.  At first, I couldn't find
him, and panicked--but then I found him.  He was smaller then before, back
to one inch tall.  I blew softly on him, and he awoke quickly.  He was so
cute!  If he hadn't been Sarah's, I would have kept him, no doubt.

 I emptied my purse and put him in it, then hopped in my car and
headed towards LAX.

 I had an appointent to keep.

* * *

Sarah

 We reached the gate, and my heart sank.  I considered telling my
parents--but tell them what?  And wouldn't it just make it more likely
that they'd demand I go home?

 I wasn't going to see Scott anytime soon, if ever again.

 I was just going to have to accept it.

 Then, suddenly, I heard my name called in a nice contralto.
"Sarah Kensington?  Is that you?"

 I turned, and found myself looking at Claire Danes.

 There she was, my favorite acress, calling me by name.  This
was cool, I'd always wanted to meet her.  Funny, though, I'd never met her
before.  How did she....

 "Yes, Claire!  Hi, how are you?"

 "Great!  I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with you earlier this
week, it's been busy...."

 At this point, my Mom took notice.  "Is that really Claire Danes?"

 "Yes, Mrs. Kensington, nice to meet you.  I ran into Sarah about a
year ago when I was in Minneapolis, and we've chatted by email ever
since."

 "Really?  Sarah, you never mentioned...."

 "I didn't want to make a big deal of it, Mom.  I'm glad you could
see me off, Claire, I...."

 "Actually, if your parents don't mind, I'd like to grab lunch.
I'll pay for another ticket for you, but we've got some catching up to do,
and I've got something I need to show you."

* * *

Scott

 I heard the whole thing, and it was damned impressive improv on
both their parts.  Sarah asked if Karen could come along--Claire said yes,
and before I knew it we were on our way back to Claire's car.

 I heard some soft talking, and then, "Well, here's something that
belongs to you, I think.

 The zipper opened, a hand swooped down and picked me up, and
turned me to face her.

 It was she!

* * *

Sarah

 I burst into tears of joy immediately, plucked Scott from Claire's
outstretched palm and kissed him, and held him to my breasts.  We stayed
that way a long time, and I didn't even notice that my arms were enfolding
a full-sized man until I looked up--and saw Scott.

 He was beautiful as ever--just bigger.  I boggled, until I heard
a booming voice say, "Wow, how did you guys do that?"

 I looked over to see Claire, fully fifty feet tall, imposing and
beautiful. I had shrunk--and Scott had grown.  "How--" I said, but Scott
smiled.  "I think I've finally figured this out," he said.

* * *

Scott

 I couldn't control it perfectly--but I could control my size,
within certain limits, anyhow.  And I could control Sarah's size, for a
bit.  I knew what the limits were not as defined rules, but the way you
know how to do the physics work to catch a baseball.  I just knew.

 I also knew that I could be my own size again, permanently.  I
just had to make the change now, and Sarah and I would be back to our
proper heights.  I had do do it now, though--otherwise, that door would be
closed forever.  This I knew.

 I kissed Sarah--her beauty undiminished at any size, just more
imposing when she's bigger--and returned us to our proper sizes.

 She looked down at me, her eyes sparkling.  "I think you just
opened up a new facet of our relationship."

 I looked up at her full four hundred feet, and smiled back.  "I'm
just glad to be back, my dear.  I'll never leave you again."

 And then she kissed me.

* * *

Claire

 So I bought the rights to the script then and there, and Scott
told me the secret lay in a book called "Magick" by David Machina, and I'm
looking for it dilligently.

 Karen, Scott and Sarah made it back to Minnesota safely, and we're
all keeping in touch--they're good people, and I'm finding, good friends.
Sarah's moving onto the University of Minnesota campus, and she's
bringing Scott along.  She also made me an interesting offer, one which I
may take her up on someday.

 Anyhow, I think that's everything.  I've interviewed a bunch of
people, and I think I have a pretty clear handle on what happened.  I'll
see about putting it into a script.  I hear Tim Burton might be interested

 Or more likely not. Much as I want to make this movie, this
script will probably end up like all the others--lost in L.A., with
nobody to go to bat for it.

 Well, we'll see, I guess.

FIN