Gypsy Ire (Michael’s Story)

The Hearst Building adjacent to Hearst Plaza was of progressive architectural design, a thirty six story faceted jewel of mirrored glass and polished steel. The magnificent building was home to the Hearst Group (HG), a privately owned conglomeration of businesses with diverse interests in many different industries including natural resources, manufacturing, and retail. The plaza of the same name itself was a well-conceived sprawling expanse, a multi-leveled hybrid fusion of modern masonry and natural greenery with a spectacular fountain located at its center.

At the center of HG’s holdings was CEO Mortimer Hearst, a man of singular purpose, dedicated and driven to continually expand the Hearst sphere of influence. In stark contrast to the man guiding HG, was crown prince and heir apparent to the vast Hearst Empire, eighteen year old Michael, the eldest of Mortimer’s and ex-wife Helena’s two children.

Many outsiders would say the very public, very messy scandalous divorce of Mortimer and Helena when Michael was eleven was a key component of his current laisse-faire attitude. Tall and handsome, he drifted through life seemingly carefree, possessing a devil may care disposition and sense of entitlement born of family name and privilege.

Lawyers and the Hearst checkbook kept the details of a couple of Michael’s higher profile escapades from ever reaching the tabloid machine and the ravenous public.

The ugly split had a different effect on Mortimer’s second child, Madison. Ten years old at the time of the divorce, she appeared to suffer from some type of psychological breakdown, withdrawing from the world and requiring professional help to process the event.

Wholly unsympathetic to her condition, Michael openly and publicly referred to his sister as ‘Mad Maddie’.

Now seventeen, Madison was no longer in therapy. She had grown into an incredible flaxen haired beauty with impossibly blue eyes, poised and reserved with a polished and sophisticated public image despite her tender years.

Michael was feeling bored, ennui settling over him as he pulled his black convertible BMW M4 Cabriolet up to the temporary parking alongside the painted curb adjacent to Hearst Plaza. He wanted some excitement, something to kick the weekend off with a bang. He decided to come down to the main office, using the pretense of needing to see his father about a household matter, but what he really wanted to do was flirt with his father’s incredibly hot office assistant Mirielle. A half dozen years older than him, she was of medium height, long strawberry blonde hair, perfect body, and a face he thought could stop a hundred clocks, he lusted after her something fierce. Seeing the gorgeous glorified receptionist always seemed to invigorate him, get his blood pumping. Removing his Oakley sunglasses and setting them on the dash, he climbed out of the car, mischief on his mind.

Ascending the wide steps leading up to the plaza, he espied the old woman peddling flowers. He had seen her on numerous occasion before, always selling her roses to passersby. He had no idea where she got them, or maintained such a fresh supply, but often as he was passing by her little cart, he would snatch a flower when she wasn’t looking usually giving it to Mirielle as a token of his undying affection.

The flower lady appeared positively ancient, stooped and gnarled with age. Long bony fingers, knuckles knotted with arthritis, she fumbled to push her cart. Nearing the cart, timing it just right, he flicked a hand out and snared a rose with his left hand.

Whirling quickly, she saw his misdeed out of the corner of her one good eye, “Please, you pay,” she instructed, voice cracked and old, thick with a heavy Slavic accent.

Surprised she had witnessed the lift, “Oh this?” he asked, holding up the rose by the long stem, “No, I brought this one from home,” he said, cocking his head to the side and giving the old lady a patronizing smile.

She shook her head, a few strands of thin white escaping from the babushka scarf she wore around her head. “Why would you do this to me, I am old woman,” she said, voice raspy, thin lips pursed.

He couldn’t help but stare at the dark bewhiskered mole on her chin, laughing softly, “It is just a flower grandma,” he said, rolling the stem of the rose back and forth between his thumb and forefinger, taunting the old woman.

Shambling forward, she reached out a slender, arthritically deformed, age-spotted hand to take the flower just to have him pull it out of the way before she could grab it. “Please, you do not just take it,” she said. “You pay.”

He chuckled some more, but was quickly growing weary of the game and losing interest, an image of Mirielle’s beautiful smile dancing through his thoughts.

“Hey!” called a stern female voice from across the plaza, causing him to turn his head in the direction of the speaker.

The grin spread on his face, moving across the plaza was a young woman maybe a year or two older than him, dressed in a loose fitting light colored blouse and voluminous ankle length blood red skirt, long slightly wavy dark hair blowing back over her shoulders as she moved with determined purpose in her stride toward him.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Michael asked, eyeing the girl from head to toe as she approached. She was tall, maybe two inches shy of six feet. Slender, though judging by the way her chest nicely moved under the blouse, well-endowed where it counted.

“What are you doing to my dedanya?” she challenged, dark eyes narrowed and full of anger, hands on hips.

“Your what?” he asked, not understanding the Romanian word.

“My dedanya, my great grandmother,” she said, glancing at the old lady.

“He steals,” protested the old woman, pointing a crooked index finger at the flower in his hand.

“She must have dropped it, I was just getting it for her,” he answered, giving her a wide smile and extending the flower toward the ancient woman. “I’m Michael by the way, Michael Hearst of the Hearst Plaza Hearsts,” he boasted, looking around the plaza bearing his family name.

The girl seemed unimpressed, pursing thick plump lips and favoring him with a glower.

Shaking her elderly head, the crone reached out and nimbly plucked the flower from Michael’s grasp.

“Ouch!” he jumped, looking down at a spot of blood on his left thumb where a thorn from the rose’s stem caught him when the old woman took it.

The withered peddler took the blood from the thorn on the side of the retrieved rose, spreading the crimson spot on the side of her right index finger slightly before touching it to her lips before beginning to speak in a language unknown to Michael. Tucking his bleeding thumb into his mouth, he thought he heard his name, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Dedanya no!” protested the girl, putting her hands on the old woman’s narrow stooped shoulders.

The old lady shrugged off the girl’s hands and shook her head, puckering her wizened lips and spitting on the ground, “Yes Lucie! Is small man who would treat an old woman this way, shameful,” she stated vehemently. “Small man!”

The young woman named Lucie, reached a supplicating hand in Michael’s direction, “Please you should apologize to her,” she encouraged, giving him a small smile and then looking back to her great grandmother.

Michael scoffed a little, “I’m the injured party here,” he protested mildly, “Maybe she should apologize to me for my thumb, no wait, I’ll be the bigger person here and just let it go,” he said magnanimously.

The girl shook her head, “Michael you don’t understand,” she stated, raising an eyebrow, an element of worry in her tone.

Michael chuckled, “I would be willing to overlook the gob on the ground if you were to agree to at least come out and have coffee with me?” he offered, pointing at spot of saliva on the ground, eyes on Lucie.

The girl said something in the same foreign language and the old woman responded in kind, the exchange between sounded somewhat heated to him.

Lucie looked at him and shook her head, “Please?” she said. “Apologize?”

Removing his thumb from his mouth, he smiled, “Alright, I accept your apology on behalf of your grandmother,” he said, cocky smile on his face.

“You are a young fool,” croaked the old woman, “You will learn,” she cackled, turning away and pushing the small cart ahead of her.

Reaching out, “Hey, what was she saying earlier, I couldn’t understand the language,” he asked.

Watching the retreating hunched back of her great grandmother, Lucie turned to him, head shaking, “She cursed you,” she said, full lips pulling down into a frown.

He raised his eyebrows and sarcastically said, “Oh no,” raising his hands in mock concern.

Shaking her head again, “Remember these,” she instructed, listing off ten numbers from 0-9 in a seemingly random order.

“What?” he asked. “Is that your phone number?”

Turning, she didn’t answer, she just walked after the old woman.

Not Feeling Well

Sly smile on his face, Michael watched Lucie until she caught up to her great grandmother. The prick on his thumb throbbed a little and he looked down at the little stab mark before rubbing it against the side of his index finger.

“Mmm Mirielle,” he muttered softly, envisioning the woman in his mind’s eye, though mildly disappointed he was without a flower to give her. Crossing the plaza, he entered the building bearing his family name, taking the elevator to the 34th floor.

Exiting the lift, “Hello Mirielle,” he said, charming smile on his youthful but handsome face as he approached her desk.

She smiled back, “Michael,” she replied. “Your father said if you were to stop by, he wanted to see you, directly,” she added, picking up the telephone.

“Oh?” replied Michael.

“Mr. Hearst, your son is here,” she said. Smiling and nodding, “I’ll send him right in,” she concluded dropping the receiver back into the cradle.

“It’s okay, I know the way,” he said, trying to be suave. He felt his stomach flop and it made a gurgling noise that made him look down and pause a step before going into his father’s office.

Mortimer Hearst was a tall man, nearly six and a half feet tall, but reed thin, his limbs almost bird like. Almost fifty, he still retained a full head of hair, though much of it had surrendered to grey. Piercing blue eyes, predatory, looked up and narrowed as Michael entered.

Dressed in dark gray pants, white shirt, subdued black silk tie, and suspenders, Mortimer pointed in the direction of the two empty chairs in front of his desk. “Sit,” he instructed, leaning back in the ergonomic leather chair.

Nodding, Michael walked over and sat down, crossing his right foot over his left knee and leaning back.

“I’m glad you came in today, your sister is having some of her friends over to the house for the weekend, if you are going to be home, do not make a nuisance of yourself,” he said, the stern expression on his face more pronounced than his normal countenance.

“Maddie is having a slumber party at the house?” Michael asked, dropping his foot and leaning forward.

“Michael,” cautioned his father, raising a hand.

Michael leaned back, sour expression on his face. He wanted to say something, but his stomach turned again, making him feel queasy.

“Are you alright?” Mortimer asked, persistent frown on his face making it difficult to tell if he concerned or just simply irritated.

“Fine,” Michael dismissed, shaking his head.

“Fine? As in you’re feeling fine or fine you’ll behave yourself this weekend?” asked his father.

“I feel a little something in my gut, I had Fugu for lunch, but I’m fine on both accounts,” he replied.

Mortimer nodded, “Good.”

“I’m curious though why does Madison get to have friends over, unsupervised, and like for a whole weekend?” he challenged, face almost pouty.

“Because, despite being younger than you, she has demonstrated, on numerous occasions that she is capable of entertaining her friends without requiring the necessity of constant adult supervision,” answered Mortimer bluntly.

Michael frowned. One little fire.

“I want you to let your sister and her friends enjoy themselves this weekend. Got it?” counseled the slender dour looking man.

Michael nodded, “Where will you be?” he asked, thinking probably work.

“I have a large contract that I’m working on due early next week and I am going to stay in the city for the weekend,” he explained. Facing his son directly, he turned his head slightly, “Michael, I don’t want shenanigans,” he warned.

“I said I’ll be good,” reiterated Michael, masking the exasperation he felt.

Mortimer held his son in his steely blue gaze a moment before relenting and releasing the boy.

“Can I go?” Michael asked, tone respectful.

“Yes,” Mortimer replied, eyes back down on the paperwork atop his desk.

Sulking slightly, Michael exited his father’s office, planning on saying something he thought witty to Mirielle, but the bemused smile on her face silenced him before he could utter a word.

“Have a nice weekend,” she said as he sauntered away.

“You too,” he replied over his shoulder, walking to the elevator doors.

Crossing the plaza, he didn’t see the old crone and her great granddaughter. Smiling to himself, she was cute, the great granddaughter Lucie, sexy.

Climbing into his car, his belly rumbled again, leaving him with the uneasy feeling he might puke or worse, shit himself. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his entire body, giving him a chill despite the warmth of the day. Starting the car and putting it into gear, he mentally made the decision to cross Fugu sashimi off his list of things to eat.

Throughout the hour long drive out to the family house, a multi-level structure built on a vista overlooking the Pacific Ocean, his condition seemed unchanged, persistent nausea with his bowels threatening to empty of their own accord at any time.

Using his smart phone to activate the gate control, he opened the barrier and drove onto the property, frowning slightly at the little white Porsche Carrera GT parked in his customary spot. He knew the car, it belonged to Gennifer Hamilton-Wynn, one of Maddie’s friends. Like her car, the girl was a racy little number, long dark hair, dusky eyes and firm little tits. The red Dodge Viper SRT parked adjacent was Amber Leighton’s, a sexy blonde with big green eyes and an ass that would make God himself cry it was so beautiful. There was another vehicle there, an old sage green Triumph TR6 ragtop in immaculate condition, but he didn’t know who it belonged to.

Catching his reflection in the glass, he looked like he felt, crappy. Strolling up the walkway, he entered the front of the house and kicked off his Adidas running shoes. Somewhere he could hear the sounds of female laughter coming from outside near the glass doors leading out to the pool. He thought about at least saying hi, especially to Gennifer, but looking and feeling like he was, he decided he was just going to go upstairs and lie down.

Crawling onto his bed, he flopped over onto his back, bringing his left arm over his face and closing his eyes. It better not be food poisoning he thought.

Dreams

Sleep came swiftly to Michael, pulling him down deep into slumber, the transition so seamless, he wasn’t even aware he was dreaming. Whatever construct of his mind, it was dark in his dream, a sense of something foreboding hovering just on the periphery of his vision, stalking him, but when he turned, there was nothing there. He didn’t recognize the place where he was and there was a persistent hum, almost a buzzing sound, like many people whispering at the same time, though he couldn’t make sense of it. Again the sensation of something big, moving in the shadows, a low rumble like a growl. His instinct, impulse, was to run, flee. His feet felt leaden, his hands cold. Looking down, he saw the thumb on his left hand was entirely discolored black, though not putrefied.

Staring into the darkness, a sense of dread swept over him, leaving him feeling very unsettled. Though he couldn’t see anything in the fuliginous gloom, he felt something there at the fringe of perception and it was getting closer. Turning he started to run, legs slow and shambling. It was closer, breathing down the back of his neck, terror propelling him onward. Fearing whatever it might be, he didn’t risk looking back, willing his legs to function. Suddenly he was in full flight, feet racing. He felt triumphant, light as a feather and then he was falling, tumbling over in the air, plummeting deeper into an abyss with no bottom in sight.

In the darkness he screamed, extending his hands as if to break his fall. When finally he hit, he was instantly awakened with a jot, his heart was thundering in his chest, pounding like a war drum. It was dark. Taking a deep breathe, he chuckled to himself for being scared at the nightmare. Fugu, who knew? His stomach felt fine. He laughed again, sitting up, but struggling with material over his head, pinpricks of lights shining through the tight weave of fabric as he pushed at it. What the hell? It was like someone had dropped a gigantic parachute over him. Rolling over onto hands and knees he crawled through the material, emerging through an opening and into a room illuminated by waning sunlight spilling through the window on the far wall. He stood upright, jaw falling wide open as he looked around. He was in his own room, standing on his bed, now like abbreviated football field, in the neck hole of his three hundred dollar shirt. The room was exactly as he remembered it, only now the scale was huge, at least twenty times normal size. I must still be dreaming, he mused, looking across the broad expanse of his bed, clothes laid out in the same orientation as they had been when he had fallen asleep in them. Looking down, he was naked, but otherwise felt alright.

It didn’t make sense. “Fuck off,” he muttered out loud, chuckling and shaking his head as he began moving toward the near side of the bed, the one close to his bedside table.

As much as he wanted to believe he was still trapped in the dream world, the logic, rational part of his mind told him he was conscious and the information his senses were relaying back to his brain were real, despite the impossibility of it.

“No,” he denied, it couldn’t be, shaking his head in disbelief, clambering over the rumpled bed top.

Peering over the side of the bed, he pulled back, a little nervous around heights and slightly intimidated by the precipitous drop. “How am I supposed to get down?” he voiced.

The old woman’s voice sprang to mind, “Small man,” she had said. “Small man.”

The hot girl, what was her name? Lucie. Her voice, “she cursed you.”

“Are you serious right now?” he asked, spreading his arms wide. “Small man? Haha,” he mock laughed to the emptiness, turning slowly on the spot, “Very freaking funny!” he hollered at the top of his tiny lungs.

His heart sank and he wanted to cry. How? How could someone make another person small? It was not possible.

It had to be the blow fish, improperly prepared, toxins wreaking havoc on his senses, making him hallucinate. Thinking about it in those terms seemed to give him solace, piece of mind. Shrunk down by some old gypsy looking woman? He laughed out loud.

Sitting down he decided to wait a bit, thinking it was only a matter of time before his senses returned. Seconds dragged by into minutes, the room growing incrementally darker as the sun was setting. This is real. Panic gripped him. Jumping to his feet he hollered for help, screaming the word as loud as he could, over and over again till his throat was raw and his voice hoarse. Tears filled his eyes and he trembled.

What now? I need to get help. Maddie. Looking over the side of the bed again, shadows lengthening by the sinking sun, how do I get down there? Walking around the edge, there was one of his pillows on the floor, close to the side of his bed. Should I just jump, try to hit the pillow, like some test of courage from an episode of the TV program Face Your Fear? He chuckled nervously and shook his head, he would definitely take a look around at other options before jumping. A half hour later, room a little darker, he knew there were no other options if he wanted to get down.

Walking back to the side of the bed with the pillow on the floor underneath, he shook his head. “Fuck,” he muttered.

This is crazy, he told himself, taking a deep breath and steeling himself. Mentally counting, 1, 2, 3, he bolted, running toward the edge of the bed and leaping off into empty space. The sensation of falling through space reminiscent of the nightmare.

He hit the pillow with a small thump, the down feathers compressing slightly under his weight, but the impact still knocking the wind out of him.

Wheezing and desperately trying to suck oxygen back into his body, he gulped at the air, finally getting a lungful. He laughed aloud, raising his hands over his head and giving himself a congratulatory high five. Looking back up from where he had jumped now didn’t seem quite as high as it had from up there. Scooting his bare butt across the pillow, he slid down onto the carpeted floor, landing dexterously on his feet.

This was his room, but now, being so tiny changed his perspective, making it seem more sinister and foreboding. Shuddering, he knew the only possible source of help available to him was Madison, and her room was almost all the way at then opposite end of the house. She would help? Right? After the divorce, their relationship had been somewhat strained. He frowned. She would definitely laugh, but she would help, wouldn’t she?

The Long Walk

Crossing the floor of his bedroom, Michael paused and frowned, looking around. Definitely need to vacuum a little more frequently he noted sourly, espying a half-eaten cheese puff on the floor near the garbage can by his door.

The space under the door was fairly tight, though still possessed enough room to allow him to be able to squeeze under it. Getting down on his belly, he wriggled under the portal, pulling himself up to standing and brushing himself off in the hall outside his room.

Moving out near the middle of the corridor and navigating down the hall, he stopped, “Good thing we don’t own a cat,” he chuckled. “And here on the unforgiving wild savanna of the Serengeti, we find our intrepid explorer, bereft of compass and forced to rely on his wits in this most hostile of environments,” he narrated, using an English accent.

Amused with himself, he snickered, padding along. Coming to the threshold of the darkened bathroom, he paused in the doorway, looking in.  An alarming thought occurred to him. What do I do if I got to take a leak or drop a deuce? Floor? He shrugged and shook his head. Hopefully I can get this all sorted out before then. He frowned. How? How was he going to sort this out?

“The girl, Lucie, dammit, what were those numbers she said?” he said aloud, trying desperately to remember them. If it was her phone number, she might know or be able to get her withered raisin of a grandmother to undo the curse or whatever it was she had done. “Shit,” he muttered, prodding his memory. He should have been paying better attention. He was pretty sure, well maybe eighty percent sure he knew them. He could get Maddie to call on his behalf and find out what the antidote was. Made sense. Logic in an illogical situation.

Resuming his journey toward Madison’s room, he crossed the opening of the stairs and padded along. Her door was just up ahead on the left. He was startled when light poured out into the hallway as Madison’s bedroom door opened and a figure appeared, a backlit silhouette lingering at the doorway. It was Gennifer, dressed in a soft pink t-shirt and skin tight black stretchy pants. There were little white bootie socks, pink pompoms at the heels on her feet. She was positively immense, easily well over a hundred feet tall.

“Get another bag, they’re downstairs in the pantry,” he heard his sister Madison’s voice say. “In the kitchen. You know where Gen?”

He suddenly realized, he was standing near the center of the hall. Dimly lit and tiny, he could easily be trodden upon and she probably wouldn’t even know. Motivated by fear of being accidentally crushed, he immediately darted toward the table next to the wall.

“Okay, I’ll get them after I pee,” said Gennifer, “it’s getting pretty dark out here in the hall,” she added, looking on the wall for a light switch.

“By the bathroom, right hand side, the switch closest to my room, the one in the middle is for over the stairs,” Maddie replied.

“Got it,” answered Gennifer, turning and moving, each one of her strides consuming precious real estate between them.

Diving for cover, he rolled under the small table just as she passed, breath coming rapidly and in gulps. Moving over to the wall, he leaned his back against it and sat down, skin clammy with sweat. He laughed nervously to himself. That had been close.

From his vantage, he watched three lights come on as Gennifer swept a hand across all switches, illuminating the hall, stairs, and the far end of the hall near his room all in one motion. Under the table as he was, he was mostly concealed by shadow as the area was bathed in light.

“Is he home?” he heard Amber inquire, the blonde appearing in Madison’s doorway and stepping out into the hall and moving toward the stairs. She was wearing multi-colored pajama pants and an oversized button up shirt.

“Michael?” Madison asked from within her room.

“Yes, he’s pretty hot,” Amber said, peering down the stairs.

He was about to yell out, try and draw some attention to himself, a smile crossing his lips, Amber thinks I’m hot.

Madison appeared in the hall, sour expression on her face. “Hot like a burning sensation you feel when you have a bladder infection and need to pee,” she said sarcastically.

He paused, frowning.

“I’m just saying he’s cute. Now if he wasn’t such an asshole most of the time, I’d probably do him,” Amber chuckled.

The bathroom door opened and Gennifer appeared, “Do who?’ she asked, looking at the blonde.

“Michael,” answered Madison.

“Maybe,” Gennifer agreed, seeming to ponder for a minute, “That attitude of his would definitely need to be brought down a peg or two though,” she added.

A peg or two? What the fuck was that about? I’m very doable he thought to himself.

“It’s a good thing he’s got a pretty face, the rest of him seems juvenile,” Amber said, chuckling.

Michael shook his head. An asshole? Juvenile? He definitely did not like the way they were talking about him at all, excepting of course they thought he was cute.

Gennifer giggled, “Immature or not, I’d like to tie him down and ride that pretty face of his like a saddle,” she commented, gyrating her hips slightly.

Madison rolled her eyes and turned back toward the door of her room, “Raven, we’re going to go down to the games room,” she announced.

That explained the Triumph he thought, Raven Avila, he knew who she was, seen her around school a few times but didn’t realize she and Maddie were friends. Picturing the girl in his mind’s eye. Hair so dark it was blue black, pale alabaster skin and light green eyes. Very, very pretty.

“Coming,’ Raven responded, appearing in the hall as Amber descended the stairs. Dressed in dark stretchy pants and a tight white t-shirt with pale blue three quarter sleeves.

“We were just talking about Madison’s brother Michael,” Gennifer said, on Amber’s heels down the stairs.

“I haven’t met him, but I have heard all about him,” Raven replied as she and Madison followed the other two girls. He could hear them chortle.

Heard what? Still concealed under the table, Michael walked out and shook his head. He thought of himself as an easy going free spirit and didn’t understand why they had panned him the way they did.

Into the Lioness’ Den

If he was normal sized, he would definitely have something to say about how they were referring to him and while he desperately wanted to step out and defend himself against their lambasting and impugning of his character, he felt the fingers of fear gnawing away at his gut. They were massive. It was one thing to be walking around inside the empty environment, but actually seeing these girls in the flesh, towering over him and gaining a sense of their size was incredibly daunting and filled him with trepidation. A shadow of doubt drifted through his mind as he wondered if they talked about him this way, maybe they wouldn’t be as sympathetic to his plight as he originally thought or hoped.

Aside from his apprehension based on their less than favorable conversation about him, he wanted to hear more, maybe gain a better understanding of the root of their surprising negative attitude and use the information surreptitiously gleaned to enhance their opinion of him.

He could conceive of no way to get down the stairs while they were down there, so he figured he would go into Madison’s room and hole up somewhere, maybe do a little more eavesdropping before approaching his sister to see if she would be willing to call the gypsy girl and reverse the curse.

By ordinary terms, Madison’s bedroom was already considerably spacious, nearly twice the size of his own room, furniture including a sprawling canopied California king-sized bed, several tall five drawer dressers, a desk set up for her computer, a couple of night tables on either side of the bed, huge plush chair, and an antique makeup vanity with built in mirror with matching chair. A handful of framed pictures hung on walls painted a fade pink rose color. There was also a large cork board with multi-colored pushpin holding cartoon, business card and other such thing in place.

The interior of the room held a subtle yet lingering odor of some body fragrance or perfume, slightly sweet and airy.

Aside from the door he was standing in, there was a double set of doors with almost full length windows opening onto the deck at the back of the house across from him and another door leading into her sizable walk-in closet. All of the trim around the doors and window, including the baseboard were an eggshell white.

There were a few leather purses and cloth handbags scattered about the room, a dozen or so empty soda cans and a couple of empty assorted potato chip bags.

Seeing the food packaging, his stomach complained a little, gurgling. He paused, looking down at his belly. He realized feeling sick as he did when he had come home, he hadn’t bothered to eat anything since the blowfish lunch and now that he was feeling better, albeit much, much smaller, he was hungry.

Fortunately for him, there were enough crumbs and chip fragments on the floor he was able gather up stray bits and pieces and put some food in his belly.

Priority one taken care of, he now needed to focus on priority two, where the heck to hide. Being so small, there were a host of possibilities available to him. Under furniture, though he didn’t like not being able to see. The closet? Same issue.

In the corner of Maddie’s room on the wall with the doors to outside was a triangular shelving unit specifically designed for a corner and made out of enameled black metal with transparent glass plates serving as shelves. There were a myriad of baubles and other curios and assorted ‘dust collectors’ on the six levels of the shelving unit, though the majority of the space was consumed by different types of small penguin plush toys and plastic figurines. Why she was obsessed with penguins, he had no clue, she just claimed to adore them. She even had one enormous plush toy almost as tall as she was in her collection. Evaluating if he was able to scale the metal latticework at the rear corner of the unit and get up to the second from the top shelf, it would give him a great overview of the room and with enough stuff on it providing him the ability to remain well concealed.

Smiling to himself, he trotted over to the stand. The way the unit was designed, the spine actually resembled a ladder and he was able to scale up it relatively easily, squeezing between each shelf and the wall to get up to the shelf he wanted.

The glass underfoot was slick and cool to the touch as he moved off the spine and onto the shelf directly beneath the highest one. Navigating through the host of articles on the shelf, three stuffed penguins, each bigger than him, two more colored glass penguins, these a little bit shorter than him, a black ceramic mug with a bas relief face of Jack Skellington containing a handful of pencils adorned with fuzzy haired Troll head erasers, a black hair scrunchie, and the plastic back to an earring.

Getting to the leading edge of the shelf, he leaned forward and peeked over. While no more than four and half feet above the floor in actual height, to him it felt at least a hundred feet or so. Turning back, he tapped a finger to his chin, he trying to envision how to set up a blind where he could conceal himself. He wasn’t sure how obsessive compulsive Maddie was and didn’t want to make too many changes that might inadvertently draw her attention. Dragging the elasticated crinkled hair tie between and slightly behind two of the larger stuffed toys, he positioned it so that he could fold it over and hide inside the fold itself, keeping his naked body off the cool glass and hidden from above.

Checking it from the front to ensure he would not be detected, “Why it’s an absolute stroke of genius,” he said triumphantly, adopting a nefarious tone and rubbing his hands together in pantomime of a cartoon villain.

He could hear the sounds of the girls returning. Slipping into the middle of the scrunchie on his belly, he waited.

Fly on the Wall

“No, I think it’s totally hokey, she kisses him and suddenly he remembers that he loves her? Come on,” said Madison walking into the room, a look of disdain on her pretty face.

“The kiss sparked his memory of her, that was the key that opened all of his other memories,” protested Amber, following Madison into the room.

Michael rolled his eyes, obviously they had watched some stupid movie and were now rehashing it. Gah! Boring.

“I thought it was totally romantic,” Gennifer piped in, bringing her hands together in front of her chest and smiling dreamily.

“Thank you,” acknowledged Amber, holding her hand toward the other girl.

“I agree with Maddie, they go for over an hour where she’s trying to help him remember his lost memories and then one smooch and he’s fully restored? Nope,” Raven said, moving over to the plush chair and dropping into it.

“Right?” said Madison, hoping up onto the bed. “I mean I’m willing to say I enjoyed the movie, the whole role reversed Sleeping Beauty theme was both endearing and entertaining, I’m just saying one kiss to cure amnesia is a stretch,” she said.

Plopping down on the bed beside Maddie, Amber turned to face her, pulling her leg up, “Okay, but on the whole, as a film, I liked it, even with the magic kiss,” she stated.

“We could have saved an hour and half if she would have just sat on his face,” snickered Gennifer, sitting herself in the chair in front of the vanity.

The other girls all laughed.

“What’s with you and your obsession with sitting on people’s faces?” asked Amber, still chuckling.

Gen shrugged, “Ever since I broke it off with Virgil, I’ve been without and could use a good and thorough going over,” she replied, arching an eyebrow, “If you know what I mean.”

“I think we all know what you mean,” answered Raven, snickering.

“So, how was he?” Amber inquired.

Michael shook his head, he knew Virgil, that guy was a poser, a straight up tool. He wanted them to talk about him, why did they think he was so puerile?

“Clumsy, fast, inattentive,” Gennifer answered with a shrug.

Michael snickered to himself.

“What about you and Scott?” Gennifer asked, looking to Raven.

Raven shook her head, black tresses moving in time with the gesture, “I don't know, I mean, I let him know we could take the next step, but,” she left the rest unsaid, frowning.

Michael grinned to himself, a hand covering his mouth. He knew why she wasn’t getting any type of interaction with Scott, he was struggling with his sexuality. Only a handful of those who knew him, knew he was gay and was still trying to find courage to tell his father. For now, Raven was an extremely attractive trophy, a smoke screen.

“Probably a fag,” Gennifer said indelicately, hitting the nail on the head.

“That’s mean,” reproached Amber.

“It wasn’t intended to sound catty, just shit or get off the pot. If he’s gay, so what, but he shouldn’t keep stringing Raven along. It’s not fair to her,” Gennifer defended.

Amber nodded slowly, “True,” she conceded.

“Besides, poor girl is sitting on a powder keg of pent up sexual dynamite, in wicked need of just the right match to light the fuse,” she teased.

“Sounds charming,” Raven facetiously chimed in. Turning to Madison, “We were talking about your brother earlier, is it true he was arrested?” she asked. “I mean, I heard about it, but you know, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay,” she added.

He smiled slightly, now were talking he thought. The infamous car chase when he was fifteen and subsequent fight with police officers when they finally disabled his car. Almost spent the night in jail before Mortimer’s lawyers arrived. It had given him a bit of a bad boy reputation at school despite the fact his father had done everything financially possible to keep the event quiet.

“It’s in the past,” Maddie replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“He spent a night in jail,” Amber added.

Maddie laughed, “One whole night,” she said, “But daddy’s money washed that all away,” she added, lifting her eyebrows.

Getting up from her chair, Gennifer walked over and picked up her handbag from the floor. Opening it, she pulled out a bottle of the sweet cinnamon flavored Fireball Whisky, “Look what I brought,” she said sly, holding the bottle by the neck and shaking the bottle from side to side.

Amber jumped up off the bed, clapping her hands together, “Nice!” she said. “Gimme,” she added, reaching out wither right hand.

Handing the bottle over, Gennifer pulled what looked like a long black shirt out of her bag. “If we are going to get our drink on, I’m going to get ready,” she said, peeling off her t-shirt freeing two outstanding breasts, each small nipple pierced and wearing a horizontal gold bar through it.

“Did that hurt?” Madison asked, pointing at the pierced breasts.

“At first, and then some as it healed,” she answered, pulling the long shirt over her head and down over her body, two large bright yellow cat’s eyes covering her breasts. “As long as I don’t catch them on anything, they’re very nice,” she finished, adjusting her globes before pulling off her black stretchy pants.

Raven got up and crossed the room, grabbing her own hand bag and pilling out an oversized button up flannel shirt. Like Gennifer, she too unabashedly removed her top and put on the shirt, removing her pant before fastening the button three buttons on the plaid colored shirt.

Michael could not believe his good fortune. These girls, despite being immense, were exceedingly well put together. He could feel himself growing excited by the wealth of flesh on display.

Amber twisted the cap of the bottle, while Madison climbed off the bed and moved to the closet, emerging topless with a night shirt in her hands.

He lowered his eyes, he didn’t need see her breasts.

Amber brought the bottle of cinnamon flavored whisky to her lips and took a brought, puckering her face. “Dragon fire,” she said hoarse, passing the bottle to Gennifer.

The dark haired girl raised the bottle and toasted in a sing-song voice, “Rise up, gather round, rock this place to the ground,” before bringing the bottle to her own lips.

Michael grinned to himself, things were about to get interesting.

Creepy

Taking turns, the girls passed the bottle around, giggling and gabbing as the night wore on. Raven was the first to pack it in, pulling her legs up and settling comfortably into the chair and drifting off to sleep. Madison got up and fetched a blanket, draping it over the slumbering girl.

Gennifer waved a hand in front of her face, “I’m hot,” she said with a grin.

Amber lay back on the bed and giggled, “And modest,” she snickered.

“No, not like ooh I’m all sexy, I mean like I’m sweaty,” she clarified, voice slurring just a little. “But like cold sweaty, I don’t know if that make any type of sense.”

“You’re probably just hot and bothered,” chirped Madison, causing Amber to bust into another fit of giggles.

Still fanning herself, Gennifer’s grin broadening, “I am definitely hot and bothered,” she conceded, shaking her head as she sat down on the floor next to the plush chair where Raven was curled up. Leaning her head back against the armrest, she grabbed some of the excess blanket and pulled it over her shoulder and down across her midriff before closing her eyes.

Madison exchanged a mischievous look with Amber before she said, “Amber and I are going to go downstairs and get some ice cream, want some?”

“No I think I’m going to need to lie down for a bit and get myself composed,” Gennifer said shaking her head slowly and pulling her shirt back down over her parted legs.

“Right,” grinned Amber looking at Maddie and raising an eyebrow, suspecting the other girl had some deviltry up her sleeve. Gennifer made no reply.

“Gen?” inquired Madison. No reply.

“Lightweight,” chuckled Amber.

Maddie shook her head, “She probably had the most,” she figured. “Come on, let’s go, there is some Bailey’s Hagen Das down in the kitchen.”

“Mmm,” said Amber rubbing her taut belly and getting up from the bed.

Getting up too, Madison moved toward the door, pausing a moment and looking back at Gennifer before turning to Amber, “If she’s passed out when we get back, we are totally going to Sharpie her face,” she proposed.

Hidden in his blind, Michael watched as the duo vanished, waiting idly as minutes lazily ticked by. Amusing himself by picking at his fingernails, he looked down at the two sleeping girls, one on the chair, with the other on the floor beside partially beneath a shared blanket. Tick, tick, seconds bled away as he studied the two comely slumbering brunettes, curiosity burning inside his mind at what treasures might lay betwixt their lovely thighs. Tick, both girls asleep, tick, half naked. He wanted a wanted a peek. He knew there was no way to get up onto the chair to check out Raven’s goodies, but given how Gennifer was sitting, could he make it down there and back before the others returned?

A smile splitting his face, he made the decision to try. Slipping out of the folded cloth hair band, he wandered across the glass platform to the rear of the shelving unit, pausing a moment to listen for any sounds before beginning his descent down the metal latticework. Moving down carefully, but with an urgency born of desire, he quickly arrived at the bottom of the unit, cocking his head to the side listening for sounds of Maddie and Amber’s return. Nothing. Creeping stealthily out from the concealment afforded by the shelving, he scampered quickly across the expanse of the carpeted floor, like a mouse out in the open, fearful of a vigilant owl lurking overhead. Arriving at her feet, he lingered a moment between her ankles to catch his breath before gazing up at the gorgeous young woman. Even though she was seated, she loomed over him, like a shapely hill of hot girl. Grinning wickedly, he moved forward, cautiously up between her calves then passed her knees before stepping onto the inside of her shirt where it was tucked beneath her butt. The space between her smooth thighs narrowing the closer he approached the juncture of her legs. Two things occurred to him, first the surprising warmth in the area, the second, the aroma of her natural scent mixed with perspiration and a trace of pee. Arriving in the place directly before her veiled vulva, the crease in her white panties was of similar length to his size and contoured to the shape of the vagina concealed beneath, the cloth slightly dampened.

Extending his hands toward her, easily feeling the increased intensity of her heat radiating off her before even making contact with the soft fleshy mound covered by the sheer fabric. Tracing his fingers gently over the folded cloth, he marveled at the sensation of touching her, wondering if her delicate nerve endings were able to discern his feathery caress.

Bringing his hand back to his face, he stuck out his tongue and licked the moisture on the ends of his fingers.

“If only,” he muttered, wishing he were full size. Looking down at his own excitement, he shook his head, definitely wanting to bust. Leaning his head close, he stuck out his tongue and licked at some of the clear moisture seeping through the fabric. She tasted good, he thought, relishing the essence of her across his taste buds. Reaching his hands up near the top of her mound, he slowly drew them back, nails scratching at the fabric. She let out a soft sigh, then unexpectedly she moved, bringing her legs suddenly together and rolling toward her right, neatly trapping him in the flesh between her thighs and against the outside of her panties. Struggling to move and grunting in exertion, he pushed against her and though pliant and wonderfully soft, his awkward posture and the sheer magnitude of her size made it practically impossible for him to move, let alone wriggle free of his confinement. Letting out a long breath, “Great,” he muttered to himself, the force of her legs making it slightly difficult to breathe. Faced with the undeniable fact there was no way he was going anywhere, he could only hope she moved again and not in a way that might accidentally crush him. Tick, tick.

Crawly

Madison and Amber returned to find a slumbering Gennifer lying half on her side against the chair, Raven’s blanket half draped over her curled up form.

“There is no possible way that can be comfortable,” commented Amber, making a pained expression on her face as she looked down on the crumpled up form of Gen.

Wicked grin on her face, Madison held up her right hand, three medium tipped permanent markers clutched in her fist, black, red, and green. “Comfy or not, it’s drawing time,” she snickered, dropping down to her knees near the sleeping girl’s face.

Reaching out, Amber took one of the markers, “What do you think we should draw?” she asked.

“A dick on the cheek is always funny,” suggested Madison, brows arched.

“How about a day of the dead girl?” Amber asked, uncapping the marker and sliding the cap onto the opposite end of it.

Maddie paused a moment, slow smile spreading over her face, then nodded, “That actually might be a very cool idea,” she said, putting green marker between her teeth and removing the lid of the black one. Touching the black marker to Gen’s face, Maddie started to draw thin black simulated stitches over the other girl’s mouth, each about three quarters of an inch apart and extending to either side of Gen’s mouth onto her cheeks.

“That’s Jack Skellington smile,” Amber said, before putting her hands to her face, covering her mouth in an effort to restrain an eruption of uncontrollable giggles.

Madison nodded, grinning around the felt in her mouth.

Gen made a groaning sound, twisting her body slightly and waving a hand absently in the air.

Turning her head to the side, Madison removed the green marker and snorted, wrestling with her own urge to burst out laughing. Shaking her head, composure still intact, she brought the black marker back up and started to color in the tip of Gennifer’s perky little button nose, tracing around both nostrils and filling in the hollow space of the philtrum.

Eyes still closed, Gennifer’s facial expression changed, her decorated lips pulling down in a frown as her brow furled and she crinkled her nose, Belinda Montgomery style.

Now unable to control herself, Amber turned away and started laughing out loud, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

Geniifer’s eyelids flickered a second, before suddenly she sat bolt upright, powder blue eyes now completely wide open in fear. Jerking her head down, she looked toward her midriff where her crotch was hidden under the portion of the blanket before opening her mouth and issuing a high pitched shrieked loud enough to awaken Raven. Pushing herself backward, limbs floundering as she desperately tried to move. The movement was so sudden it startled both Madison and Amber as Gennifer scooted back and out from under the blanket.

“What?” Maddie asked, rearing back, her own eyes round and not comprehending the spurce of Gennifer’s sudden dread.

“There was something crawling on me, around my vajayjay,” she squeaked, hurriedly brushing the front of her night shirt.

“What?” Madison repeated, grinning from ear to ear.

“No, really. There was a mouse or bug or something,” Gen replied, getting quickly to her feet and taking a few steps backward before shuddering. The scene was absurdly funny, Gen in her seeming fit of panic, a half dozen short black lines drawn vertically across her bee stung lips.

“A mouse?” Amber asked, grinning and half laughing at the spectacle.

“I’m telling you, there was something right on my pussy, like right on it, I could feel it,” Gennifer claimed, sweeping a hand directly in front of her crotch in a circular motion.

“Maybe you just have to pee?” suggested Madison, hands holding markers behind her back.

“I have to pee,” mumbled Raven groggily, blinking a few times before dropping her legs and rubbing her face with her hands.

“There!” Gennifer indicated, repeatedly stabbing a finger at something moving beneath the blanket half on the floor. “Under the blanket, I just saw something crawling just now!” she said excitedly, taking another step backward.

Each of the other girls quickly looked to where she was pointing, at the slight displacement of material as something small definitely moved beneath it.

“Holy crap!” Raven exclaimed, now very awake and alert, yanking her feet back up into the safety of the chair and pushing the blanket off of herself and onto the floor.

“Oh my god!” Amber squeaked, lifting her foot nearest the blanket and drawing her knee up.

Tossing the markers to the side, Madison shifted position on her knees and placed her now empty hands palm down a few inches to either side of whatever it was that had caused the movement beneath the blanket, pulling the woolen material taut, revealing a very definite smallish lump. “Get the hardcover dictionary from my desk over there, we can squish whatever it is!,” she instructed, turning her head and looking up at Amber before flicking her head in the direction of the desk.

Nodding mutely, the blonde bound across the room and grasped the thick hardcover book before quickly returning and dropping to her knees beside Maddie, book held in both hands and raised to flatten the little bump.

“What is it?” asked Raven, peering over the arm of the chair, light green eyes round, but inquisitive.

“A creepy crawly, like maybe a cockroach or one of those June bugs?” suggested Amber, book still lethally poised as she looked over at Raven who was cautiously peering over the arm of the chair.

“Gross,” mumbled Raven, an unpleasant expression on her pale face as she met Amber’s eyes.

“Ewww,” said Gennifer in a high pitched tone, raising her hands to her chest and shimmying like someone had just trodden upon her grave.

“What happened to your face?” Raven asked, noticing the other girls’ handiwork scrawled on Gen’s pretty but frightened face.

In her distress Gen didn’t hear, eyes singularly locked on the small bump pinned to the carpeted floor by the force of Maddie’s hands on the blanket. She hoped it wasn’t a cockroach. “Kill it!” she urged.

Amber reared back, book prepared to deliver a death strike.

Michael

Michael was trapped between her supple upper thighs, the life nearly squeezed out of him by the weight of her flesh. When Gennifer moved her left leg, it abruptly freed him from the fleshy prison betwixt those silken thighs. Body slick from perspiration generated by the heat of the union of their flesh in his confinement, he lay still, supine on the inside of her warm right inner thigh, he took a large breath to fill his lungs, proximity to her privates, filling him with her delectable scent. Still feeling slightly light headed from being suddenly removed from the crushing pressure between her massive upper legs, he paused to gain his bearings. Should I leave? He rolled his head to the side, looking at the exposed crease in her panties easily within arm’s reach, visible in the diffuse light filtering through the material of the fairly loose knit blanket above and grinned wickedly to himself.

There was no doubt about it, Gennifer was a very sexy girl and who knew when he might get another opportunity to be this close to her luscious pussy again? Separated by a thin veneer of lacy fabric. The logical reasonable part of his brain bade him think of self-preservation and with all possible haste, flee. Conversely, this was certainly no rational situation and impulsive hormone enhanced curiosity encouraged him stay. The mental discussion was short, the voice of reason silenced. Surrendering to baser desire, he wanted to check her out, play with the huge moist slit. He thought being tiny was kind of like being invisible. He could explore her while she slept and she wouldn’t even know he had been there. His grin broadened. “I’m a bad boy,” he joked openly. Rolling over, he got up onto his hands and knees, crawling over the heated mound of flesh veiled under her delicate panties, figuring if he were perched atop it, he would remove the possibility of being inadvertently trapped between her thighs again if she moved. Lying flat in the depression of the sultry central groove in her mons, he sprawled lengthwise spread eagle face down over the lacy fabric and the soft but firm flesh covered below, fingers stretching out over the material, exploring the contours under his touch like some distorted version of a hug. She was still wet, her hot skin feeling smooth underneath the dampened fabric. It was incredibly arousing. He could taste her essence with each inhalation. He shook his head, barely resisting the urge to grind himself against her. There was something firm under the center of his chest, a pearl of stiffened flesh. Rolling onto his side, he marveled as the swollen prominence just beneath him, slightly smaller than his own head, kneading it. Her clit? “It must be,” he verbalized, nodding and grinning to himself. “Man if I was full sized I would destroy this girl’s pussy,” he chortled. “I would own you,” he said confidently, hand gripping her clitoris and giving it a caress. Dragging his fingers back across the surface of her panties, his digits slick from her secretions, he was amazed at how aroused she seemed to be. It was absolutely incredible, the whole thing so surreal. Rolling onto his back, he reached down his body with slippery fingers and grabbed his own excited sex, stroking himself slowly, feeling the pressure rapidly building in the base of his scrotum. He figured once he unleashed his pent up desire, he would sneak back out to the corner shelving unit and devise a means of catching Madison’s attention. Closing his eyes, he began to pick up speed.

Suddenly, there was a lurch and shift as she moved her body again, the motion flipping him up and sideways. His excitement forgotten, he put his hands out as the world seem to spin topsy-turvy and then he was falling through space as her whole body jerked hurriedly out from under him. Tumbling in the darkness he bounced off of one her legs, hearing an ear piercing shriek before landing hard directly on his back in a fold of the blanket, knocking the wind from his lungs, spots bursting in his eyes. Bringing his hands to his chest, he gasped, fighting desperately for a breath, hearing the sounds of the girls’ excited voices, talking. Twisting onto his side, he drew his knees up, finally able to get a measure of breathe into himself. Rolling onto his knees, he struggled to try and stand upright, pushing ineffectively up at the blanket covering him with his shoulders, having difficulty with the sheer weight of the fabric. Turning his head to the side, he could make out the large silhouettes of the girls through the spaces in the weave between the threading of the blanket, their voices identifying faces on the massive shadowy shapes.

Getting a leg under him, he thought he was making some headway with the cumbersome blanket, but one of the figures, Madison he thought, blotted out a portion of the light as she loomed up over him and then there was pressure as she brought her hands down on the blanket around him, the weight crushing him down on him from all around, forcing him back to his knees and pressing him hard into the carpet floor, driving one of his knees sharply into his midsection, once more chasing the air from his lungs. He wanted to shout out, to say “Stop! I’m here!” but, bereft of air, he just didn’t have the wind. Fighting for a breath, the oppressive weight bearing down on him in his awkward position making it harder, near impossible for him to breathe let alone callout. “Maddie!” he mouthed breathlessly.

From beyond the blanket he heard Gennifer’s excited voice issue the ominous words, “Kill it!”

Twisting frantically and slightly to his side, he was able to shift sideways, collapsing flat to the ground under the force bearing down on him, “No!” he wheezed feebly, frightened, bringing his right hand across his face, sure he was about to die.

Found

“Wait!” Madison said firmly before Amber could slam the book down on the tiny thing struggling under the blanket. “There is no way on earth we have mice in this house or cockroaches.”

“What?” Raven asked.

“I want to know what it is,” Maddie stated.

Gen clutched her hands to her chest defensively and shook her head.

“What it if it’s a big hairy spider?”

“Maybe we should just flatten,” suggested Amber.

Madison shook her head, and began slowly peeling back the blanket, movements cautious. Pausing she turned to Amber, “If it’s a bug, smash it,” she said.

Amber’s head bobbed, eyes locked onto the about to be revealed thing under the blanket as she adjusted her grip on the heavy tome. “Ready,” she said.

“On three,” Madison said, exchanging glances with the other girls.

Raven nodded. “Do it,” she said.

“One,” started Maddie, “Two.”

Gennifer looked away, please don’t be a big hairy spider or a bug she thought.

“Three,” Maddie said, pulling the blanket quickly back, revealing the tiny shrunken form of her disheveled brother.

“Oh my god!” said Amber in shock, halting the book in mid descent.

Madison sat back on her heels, bewildered and trying to process the impossibility of the situation, “Michael?” she said, stunned by the fact that the thing under the blanket was her brother.

“What is it?” said Gen, peeking from behind a shielding hand.

Raven looked down, head shaking incomprehensibly.

“It looks like my brother,” Maddie said, hands on her thighs.

Michael pushed himself to standing, the girls towering all around him.

Lowering her hands, Gen leaned down, “Holy crap,” she said. “He’s so small, and naked.”

“How? How is this even possible?” Raven asked, altering her position on the chair so she was leaning over the wide arm and looking directly down on the little youth.

Michael slumped forward, breathing a sigh of relief, wanting to laugh, weep, “You have no idea,” he said using his hands to try and cover his nudity.

Maddie shook her head, “You’ll have to speak louder, I can’t hear you,” she said, leaning closer.

Amber set the book aside while Gennifer dropped to her knees, eyes wide in wonder.

He paused a moment, feeling dwarfed by the bevy of gigantic girls around him. “I’m so glad you found me,” he said, nodding appreciatively, eyes lingering on Gennifer’s decorated face.

Still reeling from the discovery of her diminutive brother, “How are you so small?” Madison asked, dumbfounded.

Turning in her direction, he shook his head, “I think I was cursed,” he lamented.

“Cursed?” Amber inquired.

He looked up at her and nodded, before turning back to his sister, “The old flower peddler at the plaza. Her granddaughter, great granddaughter,” he corrected, “Told me she cursed me because of a flower,” he explained.

Maddie shook her head, blonde hair swaying back and forth across her upper back and shoulders, “So she made you small?” she asked, leaning closer and putting her right hand down comparing his body to her slighter larger pinky finger.

He nodded, “The old bat babbled something in Transylvanian or Gypsy or something, but her great granddaughter Lucie told me the crone had cursed me,” he stated.

“The old lady Adelina did this to you? For a flower?” Madison said, frowning, leaning back and pondering.

“I don’t know her name, but yes for a flower,” he repeated.

“How did you get home?” Raven asked.

He turned to his side, craning his head to look up at the black haired beauty, “I didn’t shrink until after I got home. She said ‘small man’,” trying to imitate her voice, “I felt sick, talked to my dad and came home. I went up to my room and basically passed out. When I woke up, I was like this,” he relayed.

“If you passed out in your room, how did you get in Madison’s room?” Amber inquired.

Turning his head to the blonde, “I had to walk down the hall. I nearly got stepped on when Gennifer went to go to the bathroom,” he answered.

“That was hours ago,” stated Maddie, brow narrowing.

Facing his sister, he ignored her comment, “I really need your to call Lucie,” he said, supplying her with the number, or at least as best as he could remember.

“Wait a minute,” Madison said, raising a hand, “If you came here hours ago, where have you been until now?” she asked.

He let out an exasperated breath, “Hiding, so I wouldn’t get stepped on,” he replied, shaking his head slightly.

“In my room?”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, as if the answer were blatantly obvious.

The girls exchanged looks with one another.

“So you could have tried to make contact at any time?” Maddie asked.

“Except you were getting your drink on and I certainly didn’t want to wind up a greasy stain on the underside of one of your feet,” he responded.

“Interesting,” she said, nodding her head slightly, “So explain to us then, how is it you wound up in Gen’s underwear.”

He paused, “Seeing as things were winding down, I went to her to try and get her attention, to help me,” he replied.

“By playing on her vagina?” Raven asked skeptically, trying to understand the logic thread in his response.

Clearing his throat, he looked up at the dark haired girl, “I was scared. I had to try anything and everything,” he acknowledged.

“Couldn’t have tugged on her toe? Had to climb up between her legs and right on top of her pussy?” clarified Madison, looking over to Gennifer.

“Maddie listen, you don’t understand, I need you to call Lucie, she knew this was going to happen, that’s why she gave me her phone number,” he asserted.

Frowning, Madison crossed her arms. “What I don’t understand is why you lurked in my room for hours and then when Amber and I went downstairs, you came out and climbed between Gen’s legs and started fiddling with her privates,” she stated.

Still kneeling, Gen put her hands on her hips, eyebrow arched, “What were you doing down there?” she asked.

Michael rolled his eyes and swiveled to face Gen, waving his hand in front of his face, “You might have a little something here,” he said.

Gen looked first at Maddie, who grinned and glanced away, then to Amber, who broke eye contact, finally settling on Raven, “Is there something there?” she asked, touching her fingers to the corner of her mouth.

Raven nodded, “More like all over,” she said, biting her lower lips and mimicking the gesture Michael had used.

Alarmed, Gen hopped up to her feet, crossing the floor quickly o look in the mirror attached to the back of the vanity.

Snickering under their breaths, Madison and Amber watched her go, as did Michael, while Raven’s gaze drifted back to the wee youth.

“You bitches!” exclaimed Gen, turning back, mouth open, brows raised.

Both Amber and Madison laughed.

“Tell me you didn’t use a permanent marker,” she said, shaking her head back and forth.

The two culprits giggled some more.

“This had better come off,” Gen warned, turning back to her reflection in the mirror and wiping at a couple of the black marks on her lips.

“You know if we added some whiskers, people probably wouldn’t even notice,” teased Amber.

“Haha,” Gen replied with a fake laugh, not bothering to look back, instead licking at her lips and using a thumb to try and remove the mark.

“Can we focus on the problem here?” Michael asked, voice almost a yell, spreading wide his hands.

“Yes,” Raven interjected, “I’m still waiting for an explanation as to why Michael was fooling around on Gen’s peach,” she said, sliding her hands under her chin and resting it on the arm of the chair, amused smile pulling up the corners of her mouth.

Taking a few steps back, eyes lingering on her reflection in the mirror, Gen returned to the group, kneeling once again. Her eyes on Michael. “Please do,” she said, cocking her head slightly to the side.

“I already told you why, I don’t know what else you want me to say,” he protested, adding a shrug for effect before facing his sister again, “Just make the call alright?”

“Answer the question,” she urged, nodding toward Raven but keeping her bright blue eyes on him.

“This is stupid and I won’t repeat myself,” he said acerbically, crossing his arms defiantly.

Madison chuckled, “I don’t want to speak out of turn, but I believe we were all thinking the same thing. You were in here for a fair bit of time and when Amber and I left, you saw an opportunity to take advantage of half-naked drunk girl,” she accused.

“Please,” he scoffed indignantly.

“I wasn’t drunk,” Gen defended.

Madison cocked an eyebrow and pointed to the dark haired girl’s face.

“Tipsy sure,” she conceded. Madison nodded, accepting the compromise.

“For fuck’s sake already, will you stop being such a mental case and just make the goddamn call,” he growled.

Instantly, Madison’s expression changed, storm clouds appearing in her normally bright blue eyes, “What did you just say?” she asked, voice dangerous.

“Ah,” he babbled.

“Mental case?” Madison said, eyes narrowed, brows furled, hands curling into fists.

He said it without thinking, and shook his head. In the last few years, whenever they would fight and he felt he was losing the advantage, or wasn’t getting what he wanted, he would call her ‘Mad Maddie’ or just refer to her as a mental case. Her therapist, Dr. Kearns had said those words in particular were trigger words, capable of eliciting an irrational emotional response. Michael figured he just might have pushed her too far.

 “I’m just scared and just want to get back to normal,” he explained, trying to sound contrite and looking up at her sheepishly. “Can we please just make the call?”

A sudden calm settled over Madison as she nodded her head slowly, the darkness boiling in her evaporating like fog on a bright sunny morning. Looking down on her brother, she shook her head, “I don’t think so,” she replied, ghost of a smile on her pretty face.

Making Amends

“What do you mean you won’t call?” demanded Michael, taking a couple of steps toward his sister, facial expression matching the irritated tone in his voice.

“I think you need to apologize for being a little pervert to Gennifer,” Madison said casually, the amused smile still playing on her pink lips.

He was frustrated. Making a derisive noise, “I don’t think so,” he said, frowning.

“Fine,” Madison said, “Then I guess you’ll just have to fend for yourself,” she said, looking at the other girls rising up onto her knees.

“Madison,” he snapped angrily. “Just call Lucie, or I’ll,” he started.

Maddie laughed, lowering her bum back to her heels, “You’ll what?” she asked, poking her right finger indelicately into his stomach and knocking him backward and onto his bottom.

“Listen, I’m going to tell dad you girls were drinking here,” he threatened, “Let’s see how you like it when he finds out his perfect little angel has been misbehaving!” he crabbed, getting back to his feet, angry expression on his face.

She tipped her head back and laughed before looking back down at him. “Really? You want to tell on me?” she asked, mirth still in her voice. “Then by all means,” she invited, extending an arm toward the door.

He looked from her to the door then back again, realizing there was no possible way he could follow through on his empty threat. He glowered but didn’t move.

“Well?” she asked, “Aren’t you going to run off to dear old dad and rat me out?”

Still scowling, he let out an audible breath, “Fine. If I apologize to Gennifer, will you call Lucie?” he queried, rolling his eyes.

Expression growing pensive, “Now I’m thinking a verbal apology really isn’t enough for the affront of molesting her while she slept,” she ventured, pursing her lips and tapping her index finger against it. “What do you think?” she inquired, looking to each of the other girls.

“I think he should kiss her feet and beg forgiveness,” Amber suggested.

He rewarded her with a head shake and another annoyed eye roll. “Molested? Pfft, hardly,” he chafed.

On the chair, absently twirling a loose strand of her inky blue black hair in her fingers Raven said, “I think Amber is on the right track, but I think in all fairness to Gen, maybe he should finish what he started down there,” grinning wickedly, eyes moving from Gen to Michael.

Gen’s eyes lit up and she smiled broadly.

“What?” he asked, “That’s nonsense,” he added.

“I think Raven’s right, that sounds fair,” Amber chimed in.

“I agree,” added Madison. “Gen you’re the aggrieved party, what do you think?” she asked.

He watched as Gen nodded slowly, the smile on her face growing predatory.

“I like it,” she said.

“Fine, make the call, Lucie will fix me and I’ll give Gen the rogering of her life,” he said cockily, smirk on the side of his face.

Madison’s own smile never wavered, “No, like this,” she said, holding thumb and forefinger of her right hand apart in approximation of his current size

“You can’t be serious?” he snorted, slowly making eye contact with each girl in turn, his stance defiant and challenging. He couldn’t believe it. What were they idiots? How the hell was he supposed to ‘finish what he started’?

 Strand of ebon hair now in the corner of her mouth, Raven nodded, Amber grinned, Maddie extended a hand toward Gennifer who extended her tongue and swept it slowly back and forth across her lower lip.

“No!” he said adamantly, making a sweeping gesture across his body with his left hand.

Flopping back onto her bum, Gen brought her knees up to forty five degrees and parted her legs, “Come on little fella,” she invited, beckoning him hither by curling her right index finger.

Looking at her, posture pulling her night shirt up and exposing the wet patch of her moisture darkened panties, he shook his head, “No,” he repeated.

Sliding a hand between her legs, Gen patted the front of her panties.

“Go,” said Madison, pointing a finger in Gen’s direction.

It had been one thing to climb around on top of her concealed under the blanket, playing with himself, it was another thing entirely to be the object of attention of all four of these huge girls. He found it daunting.

“It’s just a hop, skip, and a jump,” Amber said, chuckling, scissoring the middle and index fingers of her left hand miming a walking motion on the carpet toward Gen.

“What the fuck do you want me to do?” he implored, tone rising, extending his hand toward Gennifer as he looked up at Madison.

“Go over there and finish what you started,” she replied calmly.

He laughed contemptuously, “Maybe you hadn’t noticed, but I’m a little short right now,” he remarked.

“Oh I’m well aware,” she answered, leaning forward and sweeping her hand behind him and pushing him toward where Gennifer sat.

“Maddie!” he yelled, turning and clutching at his sister’s hand as she herded him. He felt so small and powerless. He wondered if maybe he had crossed the line by calling her a mental case.

“Shh,” she said, moving him closer and leaving him no avenue of escape

“I’m sorry I called you that name,” he said, contrition not artificial this time.

She didn’t respond, driving him forward.

Gen parted her knees a little more to provide access.

Giving him a little push and knocking him from his feet, Madison removed her hand, leaving him lying on his back a couple of inches to her, a few feet for him, looking up at the groove in Gen’s snug panties, her sex exuding warmth and the scent of desire.

Raven climbed up out of the chair and padded softly across the carpet and sat down, getting a better view.

“Go on,” Madison encouraged.

Climbing to his feet, Michael turned his back to Gen, “Maddie, please,” he beseeched, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrows in an effort to get her to change her mind.

Madison shook her head and rolled her eyes before making a turning motion with her finger pointed over his head.

Looking over his shoulder, he slowly pivoted, facing the vertical slit in the cloth, swallowing hard. In the dark, undetected and hidden by the blanket, it had been fun, exciting, now, with the others all watching it was just terrifying.

Drawing her lower lip into her mouth, Gennifer reached down, slipping a finger inside the elastic of the right leg hole of her panties and pulled it over to the side, revealing her enormous waxed and swollen pussy.

“Go,” Madison repeated.

Paybacks are a Bitch

Michael looked from the now exposed vagina to his sister, then to the rapt attentive faces of the other two girls, Amber and Raven.

Gennifer grinned, tracing her right index finger lightly up and down her puffy outer lips, before turning her hand and beckoning him to come closer with the same finger.

Michael shook his head, his mind racing. There was no way he wanted any piece of her daunting vagina, the bloody thing could easily swallow him whole. What kind of madness is going on here? Why would Gennifer show her pussy to everybody? And why were they all just sitting there? Who does that? He was so confused and still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. What did she expect him to do? Before he had the opportunity to consider her intent, Gennifer growing impatient, reached in behind his back, pulling him closer toward her silky flesh, moist and glistening with anticipation.

Fingers still on his back, she pressed him firmly against her, pulling him up off his feet as she worked him in small circles around the area. He tried to interpose his arms, but she was far too strong and utterly oblivious to his feeble protests.

It was soft and not at the same time, the delicate textured skin moving and parting at the insistence of her forceful pressure.

He tried to speak, but couldn’t, discombobulated as his face was buried and smothered in the folds of her most feminine place. Struggling, he couldn’t breathe, fighting with all his might to try and just survive as she had her way with him as she was losing herself to the pleasure. Harder and faster she moved him, he thought his bones would crack under the furiously onslaught.

Pausing, she drew him back to change how she was holding him, stringy threads of thick clear pre-cum clinging to his body. He sucked in a lungful of air before she pulled him in again, gyrating her hips and beginning to buck as she pushed her pelvis up off the floor. He could hear sounds of pleasure escaping her lips, and then, moaning, she pinned him hard against herself and took in a big breath of her own, whispering, “I’m going to come.”

Come she did, he could feel her powerful muscles convulsing against his body, almost like they were trying to draw him into her the furnace of her sex. Everything became drenched in her secretions, her juices flowing freely out of her as she shuddered and finally withdrew her hand, dropping him to the wet patch of carpet under her genitals.

Gasping, Michael struggled weakly to try and get to his feet, making it only a few steps before his exhausted and beleaguered body collapsed to his hands and knee. He was slick with her climax, his pink face, chest, and thighs rubbed raw by friction.

He ached and his abraded flesh was raw, but he had survived. Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, he leaned back and sat on his heels, bone weary. Panting, he shook his head, it was over.

“That was delicious,” Gennifer cooed, a sheen of perspiration visible on her brow, eyes closed, head tilted back, reaching a finger inside of her still exposed pussy and teasing out a pearl of milky white girl cum.

 Scooting forward, Amber grinned and curled her hand around Michael’s torso, sticky and weakly struggling, as she lift him up and moved him back to Gennifer’s pussy, stuffing him into the opening of her vagina and pushing his face into the oozing pleasure leaking from it.

“No,” he croaked, incapable of fighting off the blonde’s slender hand with his one hand as he was being drowned in Gennifer’s nectar.

Gennifer brought her hands to her head and made a little squeal of delight.

Coughing and sputtering, he flailed with his free right arm, before Amber pulled him back, his face and torso thickly coated in Gen’s expulsion, Amber brought him up near her face and regarded him a moment, a slow smile parting her thick lips.

He was close enough he could smell the alcohol on her breath over the scent of Gen’s residue, “Please,” he said, trying to swipe at his face with his free arm, his limb leaden and weary from the fight.

“Please? As you wish,” Amber said before laughing and opening her mouth, large pink tongue snaking out after licking at the left side corner of her mouth.

He reached out with his right hand to ward her off, but she pressed him against the warm slickness of her tongue, sweeping him from navel to over his head like a lollipop and tasting the residue of the other girl’s release.

“Oh my god, watching this I am so horny right now,” Raven said breathlessly, shaking her head, eyes blazing with hunger while Amber continued to slurp away at him before sliding him all the way into her mouth.

Once Amber had licked and sucked him clean, she drooled him into the palm of her right hand, moving forward and planting a wet French kiss on Gennifer’s mouth, before rolling him back on the carpet between the other girl’s thighs as she broke the kiss and sat back, sighing softly to herself and commenting, “So sweet.”

Rolling onto his right side, breath coming in ragged gasps before breaking into a fit of coughing, he wiped at his face, looking up toward Madison, “No more,” he pleaded. “I did what you said, I finished it, please can you call Lucie now,” he voiced.

Madison regarded him dispassionately before the left side corner of her mouth curled up into a half grin as she leaned closer, “You finished it? Call me mad, but it looked to me like Gennifer had to take matters into her own hands,” she explained.

“I can’t take anymore of this, I’m done,” he protested, shaking his head.

“Done? No, little brother this party has only now just begun,”

He blinked at her a few times, body aching, chest heaving. In the periphery of his vision, he could see Raven getting up onto her knees, pulling her shirt over her head. “Me next,” she announced, now wiggling out of her panties.

Madison turned her head to her and nodded, before looking back down at her brother.

Lowering his head, he wanted to cry.

I Want More - Quoth the Raven

Reaching down with her left hand, Raven lifted him up carefully, curling her long slender fingers around his beleaguered body. She was already in a full state of arousal, her swollen hairless naked sex oozing tacky clear fluid in anticipation of the play to come.

Sitting back onto the chair, she lifted her right leg up onto the arm while she pushed her left leg in the opposite direction, putting herself on full display for the other girls in the room.

“Beautiful,” Madison murmured, holding Raven’s eyes in her gaze. A smile playing on her plump lips

Flipping Michael around in her hand so that he was dangling above her body head first, she held him up for a moment to appreciate the splendor of her magnificent body before bringing him down overtop of drooling vagina, smearing his head and upper torso through the track of her heated excitement and letting out a soft groan of delight as his flesh brushed against her sensitive nerves.

Michael struggled to pull the thick sticky choking fluid clinging to face away but was pressed back through the crease and slathered again, choking him. Everything was blurry for him as he was manhandled and swept back and forth over her erogenous tissue, the rapid shifts in his orientation caused his stomach to flip flop as he tried to alter his position in her hand, but her hold on him was inexorable, unyielding.

Her tempo was increasing as was the pressure she was applying as she began to gyrate her pelvis and move her hips, grinding his little body hard against her as she stoked the furnace of her desire.

Pressure abating, she re-positioned herself, holding him securely between the parted petals of her vagina before putting the tip of her right index finger squarely between his shoulder blades and driving him indelicately into the humid entrance of her cunt. He tried to turn to his side, pulling his arms in close across his body to prevent her from accidently dislocating something in her zeal to get him into her, and then he was swallowed, the slippery flesh parting around him as the light and sound of the world was drowned out by the sound of her body and the squelching noise he made as he was inserted deeper into the hot darkness. Buffeted by the internal structure inside of her swollen pussy, she stabbed him in and out of her while she stimulated her clit with her free hand.

The ferocity with which she hammered him into herself made him want to scream, the friction nearly unbearable even though she was full of fluid and practically gushing in preparation for the impending orgasm that was building. The passion began to overtake her, senses reeling in the pursuit of release, Michael no longer Michael, just a means of attaining the plateau and surrendering herself to bliss.

With a cry bordering on a scream of ecstasy she climaxed, head back, lips parted as her breath came in pants, her flesh spasming as she held him fast half buried in her pussy’s narrow opening, legs snapping together uncontrollably as he twisted and brushed across a sensitive exposed nerve.

“God,” she squealed, twisting to the side, face flushed as delicious sensations crawled up and down her spine.

“I know, right?” expressed Gennifer, still sitting with her back against the wall and grinning broadly at the other girl as Raven lay there.

“Mm-hmm,” noised Amber in agreement.

Giggling to herself, Raven shifted her position in the chair and turned more onto her back again, draping a leg over the chair arm and opening herself again, his legs below the knees protruding from her as he was still three quarters embedded in the tight channel of her pussy, the contraction of her muscles making it appear he was being drawn in and devoured by the pink maw as she opened her legs wider.

Struggling feebly and gobbling for air, he pulled himself free of the delicate textured flesh, slipping and falling into the depression of the plush cushion created by the weight of her bottom and dropping him on his back near her tight puckered asshole, crinkled flukes slick with milky traces of her come.

Reaching out blindly, he pushed against her slippery skin with his hand, rolling over and onto all fours, hacking and coughing just trying to get away. So completely exhausted and fatigued, all he could muster before he collapsed onto his stomach was only a couple of feet to him, no more and an inch or so from her to her. Eyes closed, she took no note of him, reaching down with her hand and touching herself feather-light over the delicate structures of her femininity.

Laying there a moment gasping, he mopped a hand across his abraded face trying successfully to clear his vision, before rubbing the cleaning his hand against the soft material of the cushion.

Looking back over his shoulder and blinking rapidly, he could see how close he still was to Raven, close enough still to feel the ambient warmth radiating out of her center, the fragrance of her pleasure strong in his nostrils. Spurred on by desperation, he forced himself back up onto his knees, fighting gravity, he started crawling forward up the cushion and away from her, swiveling his head back around just to see Amber dropping down and seating on her heels between Raven’s parted legs, pretty mouth smiling as she looked down on him..

Leaning in a little closer, her exhaled breath cool on his slick skin, she tilted her head slightly to the side and fixed him with her big beautiful eyes, “Now just where do you think you’re going to handsome?” she asked playfully, licking the inside of her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue as she smiled and reached toward him with her right hand.

Embedded in Amber

Michael didn’t have either the will or the energy to respond to Amber’s query, instead looking up at the gorgeous blonde with mischief in her eyes as she leaned closer, mouth opening wide and tongue retracting. Ducking his head, he closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her mouth engulf his upper body and thighs and then he was moving as the girl reared back, prize captured as two tiny little feet and lower legs peeked out between her ruby lips.

Her warm saliva slick tongue undulated under him, moving sinuously, expertly turning him and devouring Raven’s essence still sweetly sticking to his body. When she swallowed, it felt like he was being drawn back into her throat and he thought for sure he was done for, but almost at the last moment, she held him firmly against the roof of her mouth with her tongue as the juices in her mouth drained away.

The thought of vanishing forever into that abyss filled him with a very specific dread, mind fabricating how horrid that fate must be and whether or not he would mercifully asphyxiate before beginning to be broken down and digested.

“It’s like watching someone bob for apples,” giggled Gennifer, rosy color now gone from her pale cheeks as she watched Amber capture Michael deftly between pretty lips.

Nodding approvingly, Madison moved closer to Amber, head tilted slightly to one side, parting her own full plump pink lips glistening from cherry Chap Stick. Taking her brother’s legs into her mouth, she kissed Amber. Michael felt himself passing from one mouth into another, whose, he did not know, as two tongues intertwined and he was shuttled back and forth between the two.

Too weak to fight one let alone two powerful tongues, he tried to make himself smaller to avoid getting bashed against teeth.

Finally after what seemed an impossible eternity, he was alone in one mouth, the tongue still playing with him and the amount of saliva making it difficult to catch a clean breath.

He could feel himself sliding over the spongy textured surface out through the tender pads of a set of lips, his feet flailing in open space until he felt something relatively solid beneath them. Dropping onto Amber’s naked stomach, between her navel and her sex, he rolled onto his side and watched as his sister withdrew. It had been her mouth. She had swirled him around like a piece of hard candy before depositing him onto the other girl.

“Why Madison?” he asked plaintively, wiping her spit from eyes full of hurt and radiating the sting of betrayal. But he already knew the answer. He had been a shit to her. Always had. A self-centered egoist who time and again had trampled upon her delicate and tender wounded feelings, quick with a cutting comment or putdown full of derision and mockery. Physically, he had always been bigger and stronger and had in no uncertain terms made sure she was aware of it. When she needed for him to be a big brother, he abandoned her. He knew she needed him, but turned away. Now she was returning the favor in kind, but to his way of thinking, snide name calling, noogies, rope burns, and cup-o-farts were one thing, this circumstance was quite another and now he wasn’t sure if he was going to survive.

Still retreating, she smiled wryly without answering.

Eyes locked on Maddie’s, he felt long delicate fingers curl around his chest and torso, sliding him across smooth warm flesh and over a small triangular tuft of neatly trimmed blonde pubic hair just above the cleft of Amber’s heated sex before sliding him into the slippery crease.

He felt it easiest to just surrender, realizing the futility of trying to struggle, besides, he was so weary. As with the others, each girl was slightly different, taste, fragrance. He tried to steal breath where he could as she massaged herself with his body, rolling him over her sensitive areas.

Every once and a while when he risked a glimpse, he caught sight of the other girls, watching intently on while Amber masturbated with him.

Like Raven before her, he felt himself being repositioned and guided inside her vagina, forced through the swollen flesh into the sultry darkness, except unlike Raven who had pistoned him in and out, she kept pushing and it felt like he was suffocating as he tried to twist and turn, the force at his feet driving him deeper into the girl and then suddenly, he found he was in some kind of natural cavity inside of her, a taste of air, humid and hot as he greedily sucked it into his lungs.

The deep rhythmic drone of her heart filled his ears, while pumping more and more blood into the area, constricting his space and filling it with her natural dew. Behind that drum beat, more subtle, the other sounds of her body.

He tried to orient himself, slippery flesh beneath his fingers ruffled and corrugated, and moving as the walls closed in around him. The continual movement and slick interior made it impossible for his to gain any purchase or find any traction. The only thing he found was a nub of flesh that seemed to tighten under his grasp as he tried to cling desperately to it.

The pace of her heart was quickening, getting faster and stronger, reaching a crescendo before his whole environment came bearing down on him, crashing into him relentlessly, like ocean waves battering against his tiny body, one after the other in quick succession. Again he felt like he was being sucked under with no air, only the thick results of Amber’s ecstasy pouring into him, filling his mouth and senses with her come. Spots danced across his vision as he expended the last of his energy reserve to frantically claw at the walls of his flesh prison.

In a futile effort, he tried to scream out for help, like a tired swimmer to far from shore or sailor adrift at sea, but the depths overwhelmed him and consciousness fled as he surrendered to oblivion.

Rising at the Crack of…

Michael came awake gradually feeling confined and fairly restricted, face smothered by soft yet firm warm skin molding itself around him and understanding at once he was pinned against the outer lips of a vagina. Whose? He couldn’t be certain, but the subtle difference in taste and scent told him it was one he had not yet previously encountered. The simple process of deduction suggested to him it must be Madison’s pussy and he recoiled slightly at the notion his sister was using him as a human panty shield. He tried to flinch and struggle but was far too weak and his effort exhausted as quickly as his resolve.

Despite having just awoken, he could not recall a time in his life when he felt wearier. Confined as he was, he took a moment to gather his senses. He ached everywhere, his skin feeling positively aflame. Even the heat from of the flesh holding him felt like an all over sunburn. Letting out a breath, he came to the conclusion that obviously he was facing the pussy, feet toward the ground and arms down at his sides. Judging by the change in pressure holding him tight, he guessed the owner of the vagina was moving or walking. Using the term owner mentally because he refused to think of the pussy in terms of it possibly belonging to Maddie. Had she used him after he passed out? Pleasured herself at his expense like each of the others? He didn’t know and wasn’t sure he wanted to consider the possibility.

Pushing back against the stretchy fabric, he turned his head to the left, feeling the sheer fabric graze against his tender cheek. Trying to synchronize his movement with the motion of her stride, he slid his left arm up, bringing his hand near his face. How long was I out he wondered with no possible way to gauge time, other than to make a guess based on the coarse texture of what seemed to be newly emerging pubic hair bristles he felt in the nearby flesh when he moved his hand up. Wiggling the fingers of his left hand, they didn’t feel particularly sticky. He presumed prior to his current predicament he had been cleaned, though he had no means of knowing how, when, or by whom. It was impossible to hear anything other than vague muffled sounds over the natural noises her body was making.

With little else to do but think, questions pummeled his conscious mind. Was it still night or was it day time? How long had he been here? There was no light, only the omnipresent warmth of his enfolding entrapment. Maybe after the girls had had their fun, Madison had made the call and for all he knew they were on their way to Lucie’s right now. He snorted, knowing such thoughts were simply deluding himself and nothing more than wishful thinking, but it did beg the question, if she was walking where were they going? And why cart him around trapped inside panties? Was it to teach him humility? If so, then it worked. He firmly believed he recognized the error of his ways and knew what a crappy brother he had been. If she would let him out, let him explain to her that he wanted to be not just a better sibling, but a more responsible person, then maybe she would relent and call Lucie to help him get restored to himself. If only.

Shifting his arm again, the motion stopped. Are we there? There was a powerful force applying pressure externally, hard against the back of his head and upper body as he was ground into the pliable tissue of the vagina, like whomever it was giving herself a teaser, or giving him a reminder of the hierarchy of control. Her first, him not.

She stopped moving, but the constraining force holding seemed to intensify and he made the assumption the change in pressure was due to her sitting down, snugging in the fabric around him. Again he experienced the external pressure from without as he was mashed against his velvety prison wall as whomever his captor was pushed on him and shifted her hips slightly. It suddenly felt like his whole environment was getting hotter and he quickly understood why, whoever she was, she was getting turned on. Wedged as he was, it seemed like as her privates engorged with blood and parted slightly, he was being drawn into the groove. It certainly didn’t help that the tissue around him also seemed to be getting dewy and moist with developing excitement and her musky scent filled his nostrils as he felt her getting wetter and more aroused. He thought about trying to forestall her excitement by biting down on the flesh near his mouth, but quickly dismissed the idea, figuring the last thing he might want to do was antagonize the owner of the vagina.

Not again, he lamented, it was too soon, he was so bone tired and ill prepared to another bout of being used to deliver pleasure. When she removed her hand, he breathed a silent thanks and did everything in his power to try and remains as still as possible and to not do anything which might be construed as contributory to heightening the level of arousal his captor was obviously experiencing. He could felt her clear pre-come lubricating dampening his thighs, his waist. Inundated by such heady pheromones, his own flesh betrayed his will and responded, growing turgid. Closing his eyes didn’t help.

Would Madison actually do that to him? Use him the way the others had? Could she? He knew he shouldn’t have tried to vex her. Would it have been different if he had just come directly to her instead of peeping on her and her friends? The answer was moot, he hadn’t and he had gotten caught with his hands in the veritable cookie jar.

“Madison!” he called out weakly but knew it was to no avail, he was her prisoner, for better or worse, and he was helpless and at the mercy of her whim. If he wasn’t so completely drained, he might have cried.

Mirielle

Standing at the front door of the Hearst residence, Mirielle leaned forward, cupping her hands to either side of her face to peer into the house through the window to the left of the double set of doors. No sign of movement. Standing upright, she checked her watch again, not quite eleven, before turning to look back at the collection of automobiles parked near the house, including Michael’s BMW. Surely there must be someone home she thought.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone, about to call Mortimer, when she saw a car she didn’t recognize coming up the drive, coming to a stop before several girls came piling out, including Madison.

“Hi Mirielle,” said Mortimer’s daughter, big beaming smile on her face, waving.

“Madison,” Mirielle replied in a friendly tone, returning the smile and tucking her phone back into the leather purse slung over her shoulder.

Crossing the distance to the door, “Dad is in the city,” Maddie said, puzzled why her father’s assistant would come all the way out to the house.

Mirielle nodded with a bit of an eye roll, “I know, he sent me out here to get a small flash drive from his office here, using the phrase ‘of crucial importance’ to the prequalification portion of the bid he’s working on. Voila, here I am come hither to do his bidding,” she explained.

Maddie chuckled, introducing the others girls to her before inviting her into the house.

“I though Michael might be here, I see his car here,” she said, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the automobile before stepping into the house. “I think he was a little put off when he left your father’s office yesterday.”

“Oh he’s around here somewhere I’m sure,” Madison replied, raising her eyebrows and looking left then right.

Mirielle laughed, “Up to his ears in mischief no doubt,” she said.

“Up to his ears in something,” the very pretty girl named Raven snickered, causing both Gennifer and Amber to guffaw.

“Usually when he comes by the office he moons over me like a love struck puppy, it’s actually kind of sweet,” she said with a grin.

Madison arched an eyebrow, looking the other woman in the eyes, “You do know it’s just a ploy of his to inveigle his way into your panties, right?”

“Oh absolutely, I’m fully aware of his intent,” she chortled, nodding knowingly.

“Are you also aware all of those little tokens of his affection are pilfered from Adelina, the old lady who sells flowers down in the plaza?” Madison asked, turning to look directly at Mirielle.

“The woman with the small cart? No,” she replied, face crestfallen.

Madison nodded slowly, “Yep.”

“The little shit, now I feel bad for taking them,” Mirielle said, frowning.

“Sort of guts the sweetness out of the gesture,” offered Madison, nodding slowly.

Mirielle nodded solemnly.

“And poor Adelina, I mean what’s she to do? Like you, she’s an innocent in this whole affair,” added Michael’s sister.

“Adelina?” asked Amber.

Turning her head to look at the blonde girl, “There is an older lady who sells flowers on sunny days in the plaza by my father’s building, and that’s her name. Adelina Dinescu. A couple of years back, I stopped and talked with her one day, she’s lived a very colorful life. She was born in 1914 in a place called Belin-Vale Transylvania, now in Romania,” Maddie explained.

“I didn’t know, next time I see her at the plaza I’m going to give her some money and set it right,” asserted the Mirielle.

“I suppose,” Madison said, turning away, “But what will that solve, you know, sure Adelina will be square but in the end what will Michael have learned?”

“Well straight off, next time I see him I’ll tell him I’m not accepting any more of his little offerings and that I’m not pleased by what he’s done,” she offered.

“Little offerings? That’s an interesting turn of phrase,” Madison said, limpid blue eyes sparkling.

A quizzical expression crossed Mirielle’s face, “What do you mean?” she inquired.

Madison chuckled softly, “Let me ask you girl to girl, what do you think of my brother?” she queried.

“What” As a person? Right now I’d like to wring his neck for taking advantage of that sweet old lady and for being such a douche,” she replied.

Madison’s smile broadened slightly, and she licked her lower lip, “Feeling kind of pissed, might want to confront him and express your displeasure?”

Mirielle nodded her head, “I knew he was kind of immature, but I didn’t think he was taking them. I’m not sure what you’re getting at by confronting him though?”

“Interesting,” she replied. “What if I told you there was a way you could share your feelings with Michael directly and help put him back on the right path, you know, understand the consequences of his actions, because let’s be honest, he certainly could use a serious comeuppance?”

The older woman nodded, “I’ll say, give him a serious attitude adjustment,” she snorted.

“It’s like last night when we caught him spying on our slumber party, trying to sneak peeks at my friends here when they were in little more than their underwear and then had the gall to act all dismissive about it when we caught him in the act,” Madison added.

“It’s true,” assured Gennifer, nodding.

“He didn’t?” Mirielle said, turning to look at each of the other girls.

Raven nodded. “Yep.”

“What did you do? Did you tell your father, because I’m pretty sure he read your brother the riot act about this weekend?” Mirielle asked.

Madison grinned lopsidedly and shook her head, “We’re all big girls here, so we took matters into our own hands, so to speak,” she stated.

Amber giggled.

“Mirielle arched an eyebrow, “What did you do?” she asked, curious.

Madison paused, contemplating, “Considering what a massive crush Michael has on you, it might be interesting to let you in on our ‘little’ secret,” she said, using air quotes around the word little.

Mirielle grinned, “You’ve got me all curious now, what is it?” she asked enthusiastically.

“You should show her,” encouraged Gennifer.

“Show me,” urged Mirielle,

Madison grinned, “Okay.”

A Breath of Fresh Air

“Give me just a minute,” Madison said, excusing herself and walking to the bathroom. Clicking on the light, she closed the door behind her and unfastened the button on her skinny jeans. Wiggling her hips, she pulled them down over her thighs before slipping a finger inside the elastic waistband of her panties and drawing them out revealing the tiny captive hidden within.

The bright light hurt Michael’s eyes and he lifted his little hands to shield them.

“Rise and shine little brother,” Madison said, reaching in and taking him by the arm to lift him free.

“Maddie no, I’m so sorry,” he squeaked.

Dangling in front of her face, she tilted her head to the right, “You do know contrition after the fact has little worth,” she informed.

He nodded, “I know, but it’s genuine, I swear, I’ll be a better brother,” he avowed.

Madison frowned, “Is that all me?” she asked, tracking the index finger of her free hand down over his chest through the clear sticky residue clinging to him.

“Maddie you’re my sister and I love you, please just call Lucie,” he beseeched, choking up with emotion.

“This is a little awkward considering you’re coated in my pussy juice, but I love you too,” she replied with a smile.

“Thank you, Maddie, I mean that,” he said, feeling he was finally making some headway and thinking she was being amenable to the idea of getting in touch with the old gypsy’s great granddaughter.

“For glazing you? No problem, I think it’s important to spend quality time together,” she replied.

He looked momentarily confused, “No, I meant for agreeing to finally call Lucie,” he said, clarifying.

She laughed, “Oh no, we’re not calling Lucie, well at least not yet, though I do have a surprise for you,” she teased.

His heart sank. He wanted to scream at her, call her names, but he knew with no uncertain doubt throwing a tantrum would do absolutely nothing to enhance his position with her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she said, setting him down on the bathroom counter top and turning on the water faucets over the sink so there was a gentle stream of tepid water.

Standing there on shaky legs, muscles cramped and aching, he looked up at her. She said she wasn’t calling Lucie, not yet, so there was still a glimmer of hope knowing she had not completely dismissed the idea. Could he wait it out? How much more could he endure? What surprise did she have in store for him?

Lifting him gently off the counter, she lowered him into the basin of the white porcelain sink, letting him go to wash himself.

“All clean?” she asked, leaning forward, weight supported by her hands on the counter.

He nodded affirmatively, curious to know the surprise but paradoxically dreading it at the same time. He hoped it was food, rubbing a hand over his grumbling tummy.

“Okay,” she said, leaning back and lifting him out of the sink, drying him on a hand towel hanging from a chrome rod on the wall opposite the sink. Opening the door, she cupped him in her hands in front of her, left over right, before returning to the foyer where the others were still assembled.

Mirielle looked in askance at Maddie, from her hands to her face.

Lifting her left hand slowly away, she revealed the little form of her brother lying in the palm of her right hand.

Mirielle jaw dropped open, “Is that Michael?” she asked, eyes round in disbelief as she looked down on the tiny figure.

“Mirielle, please you’ve got to help me,” he pleaded, eyes moistening.

“Hush you,” reprimanded Madison, shaking her hand slightly.

“Oh my god,” whispered Mirielle, involuntarily shaking her head slowly from side to side. “What? How?”

The other gathered around. Michael huddled down, intimidated by the proximity of the girls.

“He’s so cute,” Amber said almost in baby talk.

Mirielle laughed, a nervous sound, “Is this some kind of trick?” she asked, eyes lingering on the young man a moment before looking to Madison.

“Here,” said Maddie, extending her open hand toward the woman with strawberry blonde hair.

Lifting her hand up, Mirielle looked down as Madison tipped her hand and Michael slid down into her waiting palm.

He steadied himself on one knee as she drew her hand closer to her face. How many times had he fantasized about that pretty mouth, about fucking her and now near her stunningly gorgeous face, he experienced a mixture of hope and terror. Could he possibly reason with her?

“This is unbelievable,” she whispered, studying the youth.

“Mirielle,” he said, eyes imploring her.

“How? I mean, how did you do this? I can’t believe it,” she babbled.

Madison chuckled. “Why don’t you finish running father’s errand and come back and then we can explain it all a little further?” she suggested, reaching her hand back toward the other woman.

Mirielle returned Michael, shaking her head. “I don’t know what to say,” she said.

“When you come back, you can tell him how you feel about stealing from Adelina, trying to smooth his way into your pants by taking advantage of an old woman,” Maddie said.

Mirielle nodded.

“But for now, you can’t tell anyone about him, remember he’s just our little secret,” Madison chuckled.

“Yes,” added Raven.

“Your father?” Mirielle queried, sucking her lower lips into her mouth.

“Need not know for the time being,” Madison replied casually, curling her fingers around her brother.

“I, um, okay,” she chuckled, emerald eyes full of curiosity.

Maddie beamed, “Good. Let’s go get that flash drive and get your on your way. There and back is a long drive,” she said, handing Michael to Gennifer.

Mirielle nodded, watching the transfer, before allowing herself to be led away by Madison. She still couldn’t believe it, her mind reeling from the impossibility of it all.

Gathering the small black portable drive from the room Mortimer used as his own office, Madison walked Mirielle back to the front door. The three other girls were no longer there, but there was a peel of laughter from somewhere else in the house.

Pausing at the front door, “Remember,” Madison said, touching her index finger to her own lips.

Mirielle nodded, ambling mutely back to her car. 

Pool Party

“So?” asked Gennifer, looking at the other girls and then at the tiny youth in the palm of her hand, “Was it wise to show Michael to her?”

Turning to Madison, Amber shrugged, “You sure she won’t say anything to your dad?” she inquired.

Madison grinned, “Did Mirielle seem particularly distraught or worked up over seeing little Michael here all shrunk down?” she asked, walking over and collecting her brother from the other girl.

Raven shook her head slowly.

“She actually seemed kind of, I don’t know, curious maybe?” Gennifer suggested, relinquishing Michael.

“She was positively fascinated,” asserted Maddie, looking down at her brother, “And I’m sure right now, her mind is trying to comprehend the fantastic of the situation. It will be up to us to help her explore her feelings to unlock her hidden desires, much like you all did last night,” she encouraged.

Sitting on his butt in the palm of Madison’s hand, Michael wanted to protest, petition her to re-think whatever it was she was plotting for him. Part of him held secret hope that maybe Mad Maddie had made a mistake. Maybe Mirielle would go to Mortimer and reveal what was going on inside the Hearst home.

Grinning down on her sibling, “Maybe you’ll finally get your wish and get a chance to get Mirielle in the sack,” Madison said.

He smiled weakly and gave her a thumbs up, knowing any show of emotion other than compliance could result in torment.

Amber leaned in close, “What an awesome sister you’ve got, helping you get the object of your affection,” she said, beaming.

He nodded. Inside he knew her motives of why she had exposed him to Mirielle, to humiliate him in front of a woman he had invested effort in to try and impress, to crush any chance with her in his actual size. All he could do was cling to the hope that maybe Mirielle would do the right thing and let Mortimer know. The shit would hit the fan then. He would tell his father what they had done to him, how they had taken turns while the others watched. Heads would roll. He lowered his head, hiding a smug grin. Mirielle was a professional woman, not some little girl fucking around. In the end, he knew she would be his savior and the instrument of Madison’s undoing.

“Who wants to go for a dip in the pool?” Maddie offered.

“Sure,” said Raven. Amber bobbed her head. Gennifer looked at Michael and licked her lips.

All of the girls had brought fairly skimpy bathing suits along for either swimming in the kidney shaped pool or sun tanning. Going back up to Maddie’s room, the girls all changed into their suits, Gennifer’s  a bright Bahama blue, Amber’s canary yellow, Raven’s lime green, and Maddie with a vivid fuchsia. Whether it was their interaction the evening prior or something else, none of the girls seemed particularly modest in front of him, getting naked and donning their swim gear while he was left on the surface of the desk.

While they were changing, for a moment he contemplated trying to make a break for it but recognizing the futility of such a move. He remained where Madison had placed him.

“There are fresh towels out in the pool house,” Madison said, curling the fingers of her right hand around Michael and exiting the room.

The pool at the Hearst home was expansive, ranging from three and a half feet at the north end and sloping down to a nine foot basin in the south end. The entire perimeter was surrounded by a cement patio and secluded from neighbors by tall deciduous trees along the property line.

Circling around the pool, Madison walked over to the pool house and unlocked the door, leaving the key in the lock before strolling back over to the pool.

Along the opposite edge, Amber dragged the toes of her left foot through the water to check the temperature, while Gennifer took a couple of quick strides and launched herself in the air over the deeper end, tucking her legs up under her and creating a huge splash as she cannonballed into the water.

“Well?” asked Raven, looking at Amber.

“It’s nice,” she said, nodding back at the dark haired beauty.

Gennifer resurfaced, shaking her head. “It’s awesome,” she confirmed.

Dropping to the edge of the pool, Amber eased herself into the water clear pool, water lapping at the underside of her barely contain firmed breasts. “It is nice,” she agreed, wading out in the center shallower end of the pool as Gennifer began swimming toward her.

“Catch,” said Madison, bringing her hand back as if she were going to toss Michael in the general area between the two girls in the water.

Sensing she actually might throw him, Michael let out a panicked shriek, wrapping himself securely around her index finger and clinging desperately to her to prevent from being flung.

Madison laughed and held her hand up for the other girls to him. “Talk about wrapped around my finger?” she joshed. “Relax, I was only kidding,” she said, prying one of his legs off and peeling him off of her finger.

“It’s not funny,” he countered, now dangling by a foot in front of her, “A fall from this height would kill me.”

Rolling her eyes, Madison took two quick steps and jumped into the pool, simultaneously twisting in midair and cradling Michael to her chest before crashing into the water on her back.

Submerged in the water, she released Michael maybe a foot below the surface of the pool, but more than twenty feet for him.

Paddling furiously, Michael struggled to get to the surface, the drag from Maddie’s body pulling him deeper.

Raven dropped into the pool just as Madison was resurfacing near Amber.

Breeching the surface, Michael was sputtering, gasping for air, chest heaving from exertion. “That wasn’t nice,” he scolded, treading water, spent from exertion.

Amber extended her lower lip and pouted, “Getting tired little fella?” she asked, moving closer.

He was already tired, not he was just getting exhausted by he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction as it was getting harder and harder to remain afloat.

Slipping her fingers under the material of the left cup of her yellow bikini top, Amber pulled the material upward setting free her rounded breast, before lowering herself down so the erect nipple of her buoyant flesh was within his grasp.

Despite his wish not to acknowledge Amber’s comment, he reached out and grabbed ahold of her firm nipple, supporting himself and getting a break.

“Tickles,” she giggled, rising slowly back up out of the water.

Unable to hold on the slippery flesh, Michael dropped back into the pool with a small splash, Amber pushing herself back away from him.

“Look!” said Madison, pointing toward Raven who had lowered herself down to where the water was across her lips. Opening her mouth she began moving toward where Michael was treading water again.

Seeing where his sister had indicated, Michael saw Raven approaching quickly through the water and he started swimming freehand crawl style arm over arm, feet kicking furiously in the opposite direction.

Amber started making the theme from Jaws as the dark haired girl quickly closed the distance.

Michael didn’t need to look back to know Raven had overtaken him, he could feel her proximity and then he was in her mouth and being elevated.

Her lips closed around his upper torso, and for a moment he thought he might actually slide down her throat. Trying to clutch onto anything, he grabbed her teeth and felt her tongue pin his body as she pushed the excess water out of her mouth.

Chest and shoulders protruding from between Raven’s plump lips, he watched as Amber stepped in front, her own mouth opening wide as she leaned forward for a kiss.

Mouth to Mouth Resuscitation

Curling himself into a ball and making his body as small as he possibly could, Michael surrendered and allowed himself to be passed back and forth as the two girls willed. His only concern with trying to make himself small was he hoped to God he wouldn’t accidentally get swallowed, he didn’t even want to consider how horrible an end that might make.

The saliva around him was thick as they played with him, tongues swirling and intertwining. He snatched a clean breath when he could. Watching two women kiss sensually had always turned him on, but now, buffeted and battered in the middle of it, it didn’t quite seem so hot.

One of them sucked him entirely into her mouth and disoriented by the osculating he wasn’t quite sure which one it was. Whomever had him was rolling him about the interior of her mouth like a sweet.

When next the mouth opened, there was a splash of light and a semi erect nipple there, then the mouth sealed around the nipple, the tongue flicking at it and pressing him against the hardening flesh. Again, he did his best to try and be as compact as possible, fingers curled in, arms across his chest, but the tongue was too strong, almost prying him open and brushing him over the nipple.

Then it was gone. Rolling onto his side, he brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them.

When the mouth opened again, he wasn’t sure what to expect. Another breast? A vagina? Worse, it was Madison. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth before her lips parted and she licked the inside of her lower lip. A sound erupted from within the mouth of his captor, a giggle maybe?

Maddie’s face got closer, mouth opening as she closed her eyes. Unfurling himself, he pushed himself back and away, but to no avail. Endure the kiss or wind up slipping down a girl’s throat. He was propelled forward as the two girls lips met.

The kiss was deep and passionate and he was simply along for the ride, like a piece of gum passed back and forth between two lovers. When they broke the kiss, he knew with absolute certainty he was inside Madison’s mouth. He knew it wasn’t sexual. It was a statement of dominance, much like when she had put him in her panties.

He could feel her turning him around in her mouth, feet toward her throat and suddenly the notion she might be positioning him to be swallowed became a very real concern, however, undulating her tongue, she moved him forward, his head and upper shoulder parting her lips, though his arms were still down his side. Her teeth clamped down like an enamel vice, holding him fast.

Trying to blink the saliva out of his eyes to clear his vision, there was a blurry flash of bright blue. Gennifer, she was in blue.

Untying her bathing suit top from around her neck, Gennifer allowed it to fall forward, spilling her generous breasts out as Madison moved forward, Michael’s head peeking out from between gorgeous lips.

Grinning, Gen arched her back, pressing her breasts forward as Maddie lowered herself in the water and started circling the nipple of Gennifer’s right breast with Michael.

Gen grinned, Michael looked so small and scared, but the feeling was positively electric and she could feel herself becoming hot and bothered very quickly. Amber appeared at her other breast, tongue lashing out and flicking her left nipple. Backing herself against the side of the pool, she pushed herself up so she was sitting on the edge of the deck, legs parted and still dangling in the water.

Moving in between Gen’s thighs, Madison slipped a finger inside the blue bikini bottoms and pulled them to the side, exposing the dark haired girl’s swollen pudendum.

Lower lip held fast between her teeth, Gen looked down at Madison and nodded, eager, hungry to take the play to another level.

Michael still secure, Madison smiled around him, moving close, touching her brother’s head to the delicate flesh and moving him slowly around the sensitive area.

Tipping her head back, a soft moan escaped Gen’s lips.

Michael tried to keep his eyes closed. The force Maddie was applying as she was driving him into Gennifer’s privates was excruciating and he could definitely feel the ridges of her teeth cutting into him, but he kept quiet, enduring the painful sensation clinging to the notion it would be over soon.

He thought it was when Maddie backed away, but he was wrong. Instead, she passed him off to Raven, who then stepped between Gen’s legs and took a turn using him to pleasure the girl, then it was Amber’s turn. Finally, Gen let out a cry as she started to orgasm, milky grool seeping out of her. Amber held him there until the release subsided before sucking him back into her mouth and using her tongue to clean him of Gennifer’s climax.

Done, she drooled him out into her hand, grin on her face, “If you’re finished with Gen, who’s next little stud?” she asked playfully.

Rolling over, he reached up and cleared the spit from his face before extending an arm out, “No more,” he said weakly.

“Is that no, you aren’t finished with Gennifer, you want more?” Madison asked, leaning over Amber’s hand. “Or you are done with Gen want to play with someone else?”

Shaking his head, hair plastered to his skull by Amber’s saliva, he craned his neck to look up at his sister looming over him.

“What about you Madison?” Raven asked.

An evil grin crossing her pretty face, Maddie shook her head from side to side, “Not just yet,” she said.

The look on her face made Michael face the very real possibility Madison might never call Lucie, that he would spend the rest of his life at the mercy of her whim. What torment could she have in store for him? Mentally he willed Mirielle to hurry.

Mirielle

Driving back into the city, Mirielle was distracted, still unable believe what she had seen with her own eyes. Michael Hearst had been shrunk. There was no denying it was him and not some crafty holographic image or other some such.

How was it possible? Technology? Magic? She chuckled aloud.

She had to admit she wasn’t overly surprised that Madison seemed to be relishing Michael’s unfortunate condition, situation. It was not really a secret how contemptuously he treated her, though, in Michael’s defense, Madison could have asserted herself and put a stop to it instead of sulking. Regardless, he should have treated her much better than he did.

It seemed pretty obvious from the way the girls other than Madison looked and behaved around Michael that they had had some ‘fun’ with him, and by fun, she suspected it was sexual in nature. Three tigresses and a little mouse.

She tried to imagine what that might have been like, to play with an actual human that way, to feel tiny little hands touching her. It would certainly be different than the typical pawing she received from previous boyfriends. Surprisingly, she found the notion kind of arousing.

 A thought occurred to her. Madison had gone to the downstairs bathroom to retrieve Michael and he was wet when she presented him. Why? She had gotten out of the car, they talked then she went to the bathroom and came back with a moistened Michael. It seemed highly improbable that Madison would have left her brother in the downstairs bathroom while she and her girlfriends were out and about. She had to have him stashed on her person. Where? Bra was the obvious choice, it’s a girl’s best friend to put things that could get broken elsewhere. But why wash him? It had to be panties. She had him there, trapped. That meant the whole time she was talking to Madison, he was there, locked away. She shook her head and chuckled. Ultimate domination. The ultimate lesson in humility.

She tried to imagine how Madison must have felt, casually talking about her brother all the while he was right there. What would it feel like just to have a tiny person trapped in her panties? Tiny person? What would it feel like to have Michael trapped between the fabric of her panties and the fleshy folds of her neatly trimmed pussy? While her mind pondered, her body reacted, she could feel herself moistening.

Pulling up to the curb, she got out her car and hurried across the mostly deserted plaza, eyes seeking out the aged flower peddler, but the elderly woman and her cart were absent. Striding across the lobby, she nodded to the security officer behind the desk and pushed the call button for the elevators. Within a moment, one of the burnished aluminum set of double doors opened, she stepped inside and pushed the button for the 34th floor. On the way up, she hummed softly to herself, watching the numbers light up as she rode the lift all the way to the floor where Mortimer’s office was.

Exiting the elevator, she entered the Hearst offices and walked to Mortimer’s door. Seeing the middle aged man at his desk, head down, “Mr. Hearst?” she said, tapping lightly on the frame of the open door.

He looked up from his desk, spectacles on the end of his nose, expression passive. “Ah, Mirielle, I trust you were able to locate the flash drive I requested?” he asked. His appearance and mannerisms reminded her very much of that actor, what was his name, something Dance, right Charles Dance.

Nodding, she stepped into the room pulling the small stick out her pants pocket and showing him. She wondered if she should say something about what was happening with Michael. There was no way he would believe her. Oh, by the way, your son has been mysteriously shrunken down and a bunch of your daughter’s girlfriends are using him for their own sexual gratification. Right. The other question in the back of her mind was, did she want to say something? She already knew the answer. No. This was a circumstance so far out of the ordinary, she wanted to explore it. Like Alice and the rabbit hole.

“That’s the one,” he said, nodding. “How were things at the house?” he inquired.

“Fine,” she responded with a smile. “Madison helped me find the drive,” she added.

“And Michael?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

Mirielle smiled, understanding now some of the dialogue with the other girls, them all aware of his diminishment.

“He was there, but Madison had him well in hand,” she said with a slight smile.

He smiled, but it was without genuine emotion, more just a practiced expression.  “Very good,” he said.

”While I’m here, is there anything else you require of me?” she inquired.

Checking his wristwatch, he frowned. “No, Thank you,” he said, waving her off. “You may go. Should I have need of anything further I will contact you.”

She waited a moment as he plugged the drive in the USB port and turned his attention to the computer screen. He seemed satisfied so she nodded before she strolled out of the office. If he noticed, he made no move to acknowledge.

Funny how much quieter things seemed on a Saturday she mused, making her way back to the elevator.

As she was riding the elevator back down to the lobby, she smiled again, mind drifting and fantasizing about sitting in Mortimer’s office, dressed in a nice business skirt, legs crossed taking dictation, all the while him unaware his son and heir was servicing her vagina. It was so incredibly naughty. Chuckling softly to herself, she then wondered what it would be like to have the old man down there as she took control of his empire.

Exiting the building, she once again scanned about for the woman Madison had said was called Adelina, but as before, she was not in attendance. Getting back in her car, she fastened her safety belt and started the engine. Pulling away from the parking spot, her right hand drifted down to her lap, index finger tracing the fold of cloth over the zipper in her blue jeans as she set about returning to the girls.

Sweet Oblivion and the Dream of Rescue

Back and forth Michael was passed, from girl to girl, with the exception of Madison, who directed the action as each in turn exacted pleasure for herself using him as the instrument of delight. He faded in and out of consciousness, retreating to the happy place inside his mind only to be drawn back out and plunged into the slippery reality of another vagina. Time was meaningless, it felt like hours drifted by.

Rolling onto his side, every muscle fatigued beyond imagination, too tired to even hurt anymore, he had no idea even where he was. Opening a bleary eye, he tried to focus. He was lying in the natural hollow almost betwixt a set of firm young breasts. They were back indoors, the TV room. He could see Raven, Gennifer, and Amber seated on the plush couch across from him. They were all basically dressed wearing shorts and assorted sleeveless tops. It must be Maddie he was on, reclining in the lounger. Flopping is head to the other side, he gazed up at the smooth long neck of his sister.

“I think our little lover is coming to,” Gen said, nodding toward Madison and pointing with a finger.

Michael coughed, a wracking sound sending a wave of pain through his entire person. The girls had been absolutely ravenous, rapacious in their appetite. He felt like he had been in a car wreck, flashes of memory, then blackness. His little body felt positively battered.

 “Are you awake Michael?” she asked, tucking her chin in and peeking down at him, prodding his little form with an index finger.

He nodded weakly, pushing ineffectively at her probing finger as he struggled to pull himself into a seated position atop her breast bone.

“How do you feel?” she inquired.

“Sore, tired,” he answered honestly, though softly, so low she almost didn’t hear.

“Well at least you’re back with us. We were all a little concerned when Amber lost control of herself and indelicately pushed you into her ass. You were buried in there so deep we had one heck of time trying to get you back out of her tight little butt,” she said with a laugh. “Fortunately for you, she was able to squeeze you back out, but she also peed in the water when you dropped into the toilet.”

Amber grinned, shaking her head slightly as if abashed by the statement. “My bad,” she mumbled by way of apology.

Her ass? Had he been encased in her shit? He never had anal before and wasn’t sure about the process. Anytime he watched some on porn, there wasn’t poop involved. He looked down at his tiny hands, examining them. He was clean, even his fingernails. Everything else seemed okay too, other than the fact there were some nasty bruises beginning to appear on his arms and legs.

“Not to worry, we made sure you were clean. Of course, this new wrinkle opens the door on a whole host of possibilities we will need to explore once Mirielle has had a chance to spend some time with you,” Madison informed.

The girls’ play was intensifying as they were exploring new way to use him. At this rate, he was sure they were going to kill him. The dream of restoration fading. His only hope lie in his father’s assistant. Mirielle. She could save him. He remained passive, not wanting to betray the surge of hope he felt igniting in his mind. Surely she would see reason and put a stop to this. He couldn’t believe Amber had inserted him into her asshole, grateful for the fact he had been unconscious whilst inside her rectum. It wasn’t what he imagined his first try at anal would be like.

“She was most cross when she discovered you had been stealing from Adelina,” she informed.

He nodded mutely, not wanting to say anything that might antagonize her. So far, as much as he could determine, she had restrained herself from using him the same way the other girls had, with the exception of entrapping him in her panties. He suspected it was only a matter of time before she succumbed to curiosity and crossed that line.

“We’re all kind of curious to see what she’ll do,” Maddie said. The others nodded in agreement.

Lowering his head, he continued to remain silent.

“Is she a natural redhead?” Raven asked, looking to Madison.

“Good question, I think so, though it seems more than in between state between blonde and red,” Maddie answered, head tilted slightly as she pondered.

“She looks like she has got amazing tits,” Gennifer added appreciatively.

Raven nodded. “She is very pretty.”

“She is pretty but she looks like she could have resting bitch face if she’s not careful,” Amber provided, deliberating putting a sour expression on her own pretty face. They all laughed.

Michael puts his hands down on his sister to support himself as her flesh moved when she laughed along with the others. He wasn’t sure what a resting bitch face was, not that it mattered as long as she got him away from these girls. He didn’t relish the prospect of finding himself plugged into Gennifer’s or Raven’s bungholes. Or Maddie’s. Again he suspected, she wouldn’t do it for titillation, but as the ultimate expression of dominance. To be able to use the fact that she had held him captive inside of her, whether in her vagina or her bowels would be the ultimate trump card to throw back in his face. In his mind it was obvious she was drunk with power.

The doorbell sounded. “Speak of the devil and she doth appear,” Madison said, an amused chuckle in her voice. Turning to Gennifer, “Why don’t you show our lovely guest in?” she instructed.

Hopping up from the couch, braless breasts flouncing nicely beneath her taut halter top, “I’m on it,” she said, scampering out of the room.

Looking down at her brother, “I hope you’re up to this new challenge,” Madison teased, tussling his unkempt hair.

Please, please, please he thought, let her save me.

Mirielle

By the time Mirielle arrived at the house, she had decided she absolutely had to try Michael. She needed to feel him down there. Several ideas started playing through her mind as to how she might be able to use him, what delights she might tease from her flesh. Also during the time she was driving out to the house, she contemplated the possible ways he might have gotten himself into this situation. She had to set aside possible or plausible and consider everything. Given how Madison was talking and the approach she was taking, it had to stem from the old flower peddler. Like something out a Stephen King book or to that effect. She had seen Michael yesterday and he appeared to be fine. Less than twenty-four hours later, size small. A gypsy curse? She couldn’t be sure, but the more she thought about, the less irrational it became. Beyond that, she had also sparked an idea of sorts, or at least the skeleton of an idea with a lot of potential promise. It was ambitious and for it to work, she needed to assert her position over the girls, play the ‘responsible adult’ card.

Ringing the doorbell, the girl named Gennifer greeted her, taking her into the home into what appeared to be a sort of TV viewing room or games room.

Madison was lounging in a recliner, her diminutive brother seated on the bare flesh of her décolletage, eyes downcast.

“Mirielle,” Madison said warmly, welcoming her with a smile, “we are so pleased you have returned.”

Mirielle returned the smile, “How could I not?” she stated, extended a hand toward Michael.

“Indeed,” Maddie replied, putting a hand to her chest, holding Michael securely as she leaned forward and closed the foot rest on the recliner. Rising to her feet, she shift Michael into her hand.

“It was the lady selling flowers who did this to him, wasn’t it?” Mirielle asked.

Madison nodded, stepping closer to the older woman, extending her hand, Michael lying on his side in the palm. “His lust for you, made you a dupe. As much a victim as Adelina by his actions and you deserve to exact some measure of restitution from him, to help him appreciate the consequences of his deeds,” she said, raising her eyebrows to emphasize her point.

Mirielle nodded. “You’re right but,” she pursed her lips, look speculative.

“There are no buts, well,” she laughed, “There are butts, but that would be between you and him. You can’t tell me this whole circumstance hasn’t gotten you a little damp between the thighs with anticipation?”

Mirielle had be around Mortimer enough to realize the origin of Madison’s intelligence and the single purpose of her mind. She was a shark and Michael had wounded her, and grievously to the point where she had chosen this path over any other. For her plan to work, she needed to redirect the girl’s focus.

“I agree. Michael’s machinations have made me partially responsible and his behavior has been reckless and without consideration for anyone other than his selfish ego, but, and again with the infamous but,” she said. “How long can you keep him like this?”

Madison grinned, the expression seemed almost diabolical, “For the rest of his life,” she said coolly, closing her fingers around him.

Nodding, reddish gold hair bobbing, “That is true,” Mirielle chuckled.

“I rather think I prefer him this way,” Madison said, amused smile playing on the corners of her sensual mouth.

“For now, what happens when the novelty wears off?”

“Did you just drive out here to ask me that, or are you interested to see what little tricks the girls and I have taught him?” Maddie asked, sidelong grin, extending her right hand toward his sister.

Mirielle grinned back, extending her hand, “Oh no, it would be a lie if I didn’t say I was absolutely curious. I’ve got a few notions about how he and I will make amends for what he has done and the position he has put me in,” she assured.

Madison paused, opening her fingers and basically pouring him into Mirielle’s hand.

Bringing him closer to her chest, Mirielle looked down at him, his tiny body huddled in the center of her hand.

Landing in Mirielle’s palm, he caught a hint of the lotion she used, vanilla? He kept his head down, almost frightened to look up. He didn’t like the tenor of the conversation and was desperately hoping Mirielle was just alluding to some scheme to get him away from Madison.

Amber got up off the couch, extending a hand for Mirielle to sit, “You can start here if you like,” she said.

Eyes still on Michael, she shook her head, “No offense to any of you girls, you’re all very beautiful, but I was hoping I might enjoy settling accounts with him on my own,” she said, tracing her lower lip with the tip of her pink tongue.

“We’re all girlfriends here,” offered Gennifer, smiling broadly.

Mirielle looked up at the dark haired girl, “I know you all are and that you’ve shared him together, but I think it would feel a lot awkward to me. At least the first time,” she said, returning the smile.

Madison raised a hand to silence a protest from Raven. “It’s alright, you can use one of the spare bedrooms upstairs for privacy,” she stated.

Mirielle nodded, lifting Michael a little closer to her eye level, “Remarkable,” she chuckled.

“Here, let me show you the way,” offered Madison, walking out of the room.

Following the younger girl, Mirielle brought her hand close to her chest so as to avoid accidently dropping tiny Michael.

Walking to the upper floor, Maddie led Mirielle to a nicely appointed bedroom.

“Thank you,” Mirielle said, setting Michael down on the corner of the green colored duvet.

Madison grinned at her brother before looking back to Mirielle, relaying to her where the toileting facilities were for this level before bidding her enjoy and closing the door behind her.

Petition for Aid

He waited for Madison and the girls trailing to leave before he spoke. “Thank heavens Mirielle,” he said, much more animated and full of vigor than he was letting on. “You’ve got to help me,” he blurted.

“Help you?” she said, returning to the door and twisting the small button in the center of the door knob to lock it.

“I need to call Lucie, the old lady’s granddaughter, she knew this was going to happen and I think she can undo it,” he blurted, hoping he could convince her to lend him aid.

Pursing her lips, she nodded, coming to stand near the corner of the bed, untucking her shirt from her jeans and unbuttoning the top button of her shirt. “That’s good,” she said. “Gives us some options.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, as she undid another button.

She made a face, “Removing my shirt,” she said, pushing another small plastic circle through an eyelet.

He blinked a couple of times.  “I was hoping you were going to help me,” he said. “Please.”

Slipping out of her shirt, breasts held in check by a utilitarian white colored bra. “I think we might wind up helping each other,” she said, tossing her shirt to the floor and reaching around behind her back to unhook her brassiere. Freeing her wonderfully full breasts, each tipped by a small soft rosy colored nipple, she dropped the bra on top of her shirt. Her tummy was lean, taut, navel with a circular hoop through it.

“H-how?” he asked, as she unfastened the metal button on the waist of her denim pants.

Bending forward, she wiggled her hips, drawing the jeans down. Bracing herself with a hand on the bed as she stepped out of her pants. When she stood upright, he was looking up at the small dewy wet spot above the stitch line of her white cotton panties.

Placing her hands on her hips, she looked down at him, caprice making her smile. “Is it everything you thought it would be?” she asked coyly.

“How are we going to help each other?” he asked again, voice sounding small even in his own ears.

“Well first you’re going to help me come, that’s a given,” she said, arching her hips and touching the spot of moisture showing through on her panties. “This was just from thinking about what we’re going to do,” she said, moving her finger in a slow circular motion.

He swallowed hard.

Tucking her thumbs into the elastic waistband of her panties, she pulled them down, stepping out of them and standing erect again.

There was a small triangle of hair above her slit, darker red than the hair on her head. Her genitals were already exhibiting the telltale signs of arousal. What he would have given to see her like this just a day earlier, all excited and hungry for him. Now he was scared. There was a subtle difference between the pussy he was staring at and the ones belonging to the girls. Some ethereal quality, like somehow it was more, as if she were a woman, while the girls were still just girls.

She was watching him, like an eagle watches a mouse.

He knew what was about to happen. When she reached down for him, he went limp, controlling the queasy sensation in his stomach as she climbed onto the bed with him in her hand.

Setting him down between her legs, he stood directly in front her swollen vagina, the weight of her bottom creating a well drawing him closer to her puffy lips.

“I want you to kiss me there,” she instructed, using her hand to open herself up, the bright pink within glistening.

Putting a hand to either side of her opening, he leaned forward, pecking at her inner folds. Again there was that quality of something more mature, her scent more full bodied, the fragrance making him hard despite his weariness.

He felt her other hand behind him, pulling him against her excited flesh, and grinding him against the swollen nub of her clit.

There was nothing he could do to stop her and he had leaned, the best thing to do was to just go with it, allow her to do whatever it was she wanted.

Taking him by the lower legs, she arched her hips and pushed him head first into the slippery opening. Closing his eyes and taking a breath, he could feel the warmth of friction as she worked him in and out of her pussy, muscles greedily sucking at him and trying to devour his tiny body.

“God,” she moaned, her pace quickening as she continued to drive him in and out of herself, urgency replacing reason as climax loomed.  She came with force, muscles clamping mercilessly down and sending pulses of bliss throughout her body as she continued to buck. As the wickedly delicious sensation started to subside, she pulled him free and brought him to her nipple, using his upper torso to slowly make circles around the aureole of her right breast making the nipple hard.

Switching him in her hands, she took him by the upper body, lowering him back down to her privates. Using the index and middle fingers of her left hand, she once more parted her nether lips and slid his feet into her, pushing him inside to his armpits, his arms remaining outside of her. Scooting to the edge of the bend, she rolled herself off into a standing position, Michael hanging partially out of her. When she bent down to pick her panties up from the floor, her labia closed around him, the sleek velvety muscles inside her, tugging at his feet, trying to pull him in deeper.

Stepping her left leg into the panties, she pulled them up slightly, then put her right leg in.

It was so weird for him, dangling inverted outside of her.

Pulling her panties the rest of the way up, she slid a hand inside to nudge him forward, pushing his face against the soft flesh around her pee-hole, lips enfolding him as she removed her hands.

Satisfied he was neatly tucked away, she continued to dress, pulling on her jeans and donning her shirt.

Shifting her weight from side to side, she tilted her hips, feeling him squirm a little in his confinement. She giggled to herself, knowing another orgasm was imminent. Rubbing the crotch of her jeans, her breath caught in her throat as she came again, bathing him in her secretions and imagining him drinking every drop of nectar seeping out of her, though she knew there obvious far too much for him to ingest,

“Ah,” she vocalized, shaking her head from side and side. “Time for a chat with Madison.,” she said, wiggling her hips to feel her passenger.

Making an Offer that Can’t be Refused

“Well?” asked Madison when Mirielle emerged from the room.

“I think we need to have a talk,” stated Mirielle.

Madison frowned, looking at the older woman and then passed her into the room, “Where’s Michael?” she inquired.

“Do you have a moment?” she invited, extending an arm back into the room.

“Yeah, where is he?” Amber asked, frowning.

“Madison?” Mirielle repeated.

Maddie nodded, eyes narrowed. “Alright,” she said.

“Just you,” Mirielle qualified.

“But,” Gennifer said.

“It’s okay,” soothed Madison, moving passed Mirielle into the room so recently used to play with her brother.

Closing the door behind them, Mirielle followed Madison into the room.

Michael’s sister turned, “Where is he?” she asked, voice sharp, an edge of demand in the tone.

Mirielle patted the front of her pants, “Here,” she said, “Have a seat, we need to talk,” she suggested.

Madison walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Joining her, Mirielle started, “We both understand the primary motivation for your treatment of Michael, and that’s fine, I’m not going to try and defend his egregious actions. But,” she raised a hand to stall Madison’s words of protest, “You do know this has got to come to an end, and I’m not talking about his demise,” she said.

Madison shook her head, cruel smile curling her lips, “I’m not down with him yet,” she stated.

Nodding, the strawberry blonde paused a moment, “I imagine there is a certain gratification to be experienced watching your friends use him to explore their own libidinous desire and fuel your revenge, but hasn’t it grown tedious yet?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Maddie asked.

“You are on the outside looking in. They all get to experience sexual fulfillment and you’re left with nothing more than your bittersweet vengeance,” Mirielle stated.

“While my brother suffers the indignity of being nothing more than a plaything for the amusement of my friends. There is a certain irony to it all, wouldn’t you say?” she inquired.

Mirielle smiled, “I suppose, but couldn’t it be much more fulfilling?” she countered.

“Are you suggesting I use my brother that way too?” she asked, head turning from side to side in a negative motion.

“No,” she answered, “There is a certain stigma attached to that type of interaction that might create a situation from which there is no returning from should he ever be restored,” she clarified.

“What then? I’m not sure where you are going with this,” she said, pursing her mouth.

“You are your father’s daughter and capable of seeing the broader strokes of the situation. I know that you’re invested at an emotional level at the moment, but I want you to set that aside for the time being,” Mirielle.

Madison frowned, but nodded slowly, “Go on,” she encouraged.

“I think what had happened to Michael is astounding, I mean, who could’ve thought such a thing was possible, right?”

“Sure, I’ll concede that point,” Maddie agreed.

“The question becomes, if this is possible, what else might be done?” she asked.

“Can you elaborate?”

Leaning closer, feeling a little wiggle of movement in her privates, “If this can be done and undone, is it possible to transfer the ability to do this to another person, or place it some kind of ingestible substance, or maybe in an inanimate object?” Mirielle queried.

Madison was no dummy and immediately understood the ramifications of what Mirielle was trying to convey. She was postulating about the possibility of creating a shrinking potion ala Alice in Wonderland, or some type of device with which to control the size of another. The possibilities were staggering.

“When you stop to think about, while gratifying to humble your egotistical brother, in the bigger picture, the fact that he has been brought low is fairly small, almost petty compared to some of the other things that might be accomplished with such an ability,” she said.

Madison laughed, “Says the woman with my brother trapped in her panties,” she stated.

Mirielle smiled back, “Actually he is embedded in my vagina up to his armpits and is squirming about deliciously, keeping me incredibly wet, but that is beside the point. Right now he is a pleasurable distraction, but will require a lot of care and need. Imagine if you could shrink him at will? Bring him back to full size and the moment he gets out of hand, and express your displeasure,” she said.

“So what now then? Why are you keeping Michael?” she asked.

“I’ll hold onto to him until I contact this Lucie. I think it is important to gain her trust and work together to try and explore the possibility of the things we’ve discussed. Besides, given his current state, we both know at some point he will need to be restored and there is no way he will continue to hold up to the type of handling he has been receiving,” she stated.

“Did he whine and complain about what we were doing?” Madison challenged, eyes flashing.

“Not really,” she replied, “It was fairly apparent based on his condition and how quickly he just went limp,” she explained.

Madison scowled, feeling impugned. “I don’t like it. He is very duplicitous and needs to suffer a little more,” she stated bluntly.

Mirielle smiled coyly, “If you truly want him to be humiliated, let me take him for the time being. You can have him back after I’m finished with him,” she offered, the glint in her eye appearing wicked.

Madison hemmed and hawed a little, reluctant to give him up.

“You need to let your friends know he will be restored and that he will in no way attempt to exact any type of retribution for their play, but that playtime, for now, is over,” she instructed, adopting a more authoritative tone in her voice.

Nodding slowly, Maddie agreed. Deep down, she knew Mirielle was right. “Alright,” she conceded.

Mirielle smiled, “It may take me a few days to get this thing sorted out, but I’ll let you know,” she said.

Distracted Driving

Exiting the Hearst home, Mirielle crossed the drive and returned to her vehicle, climbing into the seat and positioning herself in such a way as to be able to reach down and feel the little pearl trapped in the folds of her vagina. Fastening her safety belt, she started the car, pulling out and starting back toward the city, Michael squirming occasionally and sending little shivers of pleasure through her body. As she had explained to Madison, it was true her intent was to reach out to Lucie to gain a better understanding of the whole situation and how it was accomplished. She would call the number and make arrangements to meet with the girl. If the number was a dud, then she would have to wait until Monday at the earliest to try and make contact, leaving her with little Michael until then, and that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.

Glancing at the time display on the dash of her car, a little smile tugged at the corners of her full lips. With Michael embedded in her pussy as he was, before she called Lucie, she did want to go back and see Mortimer, his son and the heir to his financial empire was literally a slave to her whim. Was it being small and petty? To derive some measure of satisfaction from Michael’s subjugation and by proxy, Mortimer, to her quim? Perhaps, she mused. She could feel herself lubricating at the thought, Michael moved.

Sliding a hand down between her thighs, the juncture of her legs hot, she pressed delicately against the fabric, feeling his body driven against the sensitive flesh as she moved him around the excited area.

Had she been more focused on the road and attentive to how fast she was driving and less about how amazingly wicked it felt to masturbate using Michael, she probably would have seen the black and white Ford Crown Victoria California Highway Patrol car settle in behind her.

It wasn’t until the chirp of the siren drew her out of her heightened arousal that she looked up and saw the flashing red and blue lights behind her.

“Shit,” she mumbled, startled, as she slowed down, signaling before pulling over to the side of the road and onto the shoulder. She leaned over in her seat and glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, face slightly flush from playing with herself.

Taking a breath and trying to compose herself, she placed her hands on the steering wheel, giggling slightly and shaking her head. She had been so close to another orgasm.

The patrol car pulled in behind her and a policeman exited, tucking some type of clipboard or other under his arm and donning his hat before walking up beside the driver’s side of her car. He removed his sunglasses as she lowered the window. “Good afternoon miss,” he said, leaning slightly down, tone pleasant.

She smiled, still feeling mildly self-conscious about the color still her face. He appeared young, tall, athletic physique, maybe her age or slightly younger, good looking, the name tag on his uniform read Bartkowski.

“How are you today?” she inquired, reciprocating the friendly tone.

“Good,” he replied, “How about you?” he asked, “Having a good day?”

“Not bad, just feeling a little embarrassed at the moment,” she replied.

“You were moving at a pretty good clip there,” he admonished.

“How fast was I going?” she inquired, looking up at him through long lashes.

“I pulled you over because you were driving approximately 20 miles an hour over the posted limit,” he stated. “May I have your driver’s license and vehicle registration please?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied, removing her wallet form her purse and pulling out her license and handing it to him before bending across the seat and opening the glove compartment to get her insurance papers. “Sorry,” she said, “I was in a rush, I know that’s no excuse,” she offered contritely, straightening up, the motion forcing Michael to wiggle, little limbs trapped inside her brushing against a sensitive nerve ending causing her to inhale sharply.

The cop frowned, “Are you alright?” he asked.

Holding her lower lip between her teeth, she nodded, “Bikini wax, still a little sensitive,” she answered, shifting her bottom in the seat.

“Oh,” he acknowledged, eyes widening as he leaned back, “I see.”

She rolled her eyes back and forth, willing Michael to be still.

“I didn’t clock you with radar, so I’m only going to give you a warning today instead of a citation,” he said, grinning as he handed back her license and registration.

She nodded, gnawing on her lower lip as Michael was became more animated and bringing her closer and closer to climax.

“You should be more careful, distracted driving is a serious risk not only to yourself, but also to other motorists,” he encouraged.

“Yes officer,” she said, voice a little breathless, clamping down with her pelvic muscles to try and quell Michael and prevent herself from coming.

He looked at her a moment, then opened the clipboard, pulling out a business card with his name and official contact information on it, extending it to her. “If you have any questions or concerns about this traffic stop today, please feel free to call,” he said.

“Mm-hmm,” she answered, looking at the card with the CHP logo imprinted on it. Jovan Bartkowski was his name. “Thank you,” she added. She was so incredibly close now.

“You sure you’re okay, you look a little flushed?” he asked, slight frown on his face, eyes concerned.

Turning to her purse, “Just the heat,” she breathed, putting her license back in her wallet and the policeman’s card into her purse.

“Alright then,” he said, patting a hand on the roof of her car, “You have a good day and remember to drive a little slower,” he stated.

Turning her head back toward him, she smiled, eyes widening slightly as she felt herself approaching the point of no return.

Nodding once more, he turned, slipping his glasses back on as he walked toward his own vehicle.

Crossing her arms over the steering wheel, she leaned forward and climaxed, muffling the moan with her arms, pussy clenching and unclenching around the tiny prisoner held captive there.

At the Office

By the time Mirielle reached Hearst Plaza, her heat had mostly subsided, leaving her with a sticky mess in her nether area. She had contemplated swinging passed her home and grabbing a quick change before coming to the office, but knew once she was there she would have to play with Michael again instead of coming in. Coming to the office first she figured would stoke her fire for the play to come.

Stepping out of her car, she crossed the plaza to the Hearst Building, her knees still a little shaky as she entered the Hearst Building. Spying the security officer behind the desk, he grinned at her and flashed her a wave. She smiled and waved back, entering the corridor beyond and using her key card on the elevator to take it up. As the numbers flashed passed, she shimmied her hips a little to stir Michael.

There was a sensation of movement, bringing a smile to her face as the elevator doors opened. Crossing the lobby through to Mortimer’s office, she paused and knocked lightly on the door frame.

“Oh, you’re here?” Mortimer said, the omnipresent frown on his face. “I thought you had gone.”

“I know how important this project is and just wanted to make sure there was nothing further you required from me,” she said, a little thrill in the back of her mind at delicious sensation emanating from her crotch as Michael squirmed about. Your son, right now, is in my vagina, stuffed up there, thrashing and fighting for his very life. I am literally feeding your son to my hungry pussy right in front of you. She smiled.

Mortimer nodded, “Very astute, but it seems I have everything well in hand,” he said, looking at the documents atop his desk, then his computer screen, then back to her.

“Did you want me to call Tiago’s, maybe get them to send something over for you to eat?” she inquired, feeling herself becoming aroused again.

Pursing his lips, Mortimer checked his watch and nodded. “I didn’t realize how late it was getting,” he said. “My usual, you can go over and fetch it,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll run right over,” she replied with a smile. You have no idea how much pleasure I would derive from you if you were in your son’s place right now.

He nodded, head down as he waved her away.

Walking out of his office, she paused momentarily at the door. If I get what I want from that gypsy girl, I am going to take your empire and what those little girls did to your boy will pale in comparison to what I will do to you.

He looked up, “Is there something else?”

“Nope,” she said, shaking her head and smiling back.

She phoned ahead, placing the order. Mortimer Hearst was such a creature of habit he seldom deviated from a handful of selection, whether it was food, clothes, whatever.

Rather than drive over, she had them deliver it to the building, going downstairs to collect it from security when they arrived.

Bringing it back into the office, she walked over to Mortimer’s office, rapping lightly again.

Looking up, Mortimer nodded, pointing over at the glass coffee table in from of the leather couch. “Just put it there,” he advised.

Nodding she moved over and set it down. “I asked them to provide metal utensils,” she advised.

“Good,” he said, nodding as he pushed his chair back from the desk and rising to his feet. Crossing the broad open space to the couch, he looked at her, “Did you get anything for yourself?” he inquired, sitting down and pulling the paper bag closer to him.

She turned, bent forward as he was, he was only slightly higher than her crotch level, “No, I’m not too hungry

Pulling out a circular aluminum pan from the bag, he set it on the table and began folding the edges back to remove the paper covering. “Any plans for the balance of the weekend?” he asked, digging his fork into the steaming pasta.

“Oh I don’t know, I might have some plans for later on tonight,” she replied, imagining a couple of different things she would like to try with Michael.

“Good,” he said around a mouthful of food. “You said things were pretty quiet out at the house?” he asked.

She nodded. “I don’t think there is any question, Madison is in charge,” she provided.

“Good. Michael could learn a thing or two from his sister,” he commented, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

Mirielle smiled, nodding in agreement, “I’m sure,” she said. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you still have a host of business you need to see to and I’ve got little thing of my own to attend to,” she added, moving back toward the exit from his office.

“You know I’m not blind?” he said to her retreating back.

Stopping, she turned partway back, “Pardon?”

He half smiled, “I know Michael comes here more to see you than he does me and I know that you are generally very gentle in rebuffing his interest,” he said.

“I’m not sure I follow where this is going?” she queried.

“He’s young and impulsive but with a little firm direction, he may yet live up to expectations,” he stated.

Mirielle smiled, “Of course,” she replied, flexing her pelvic muscles and causing the youth to move. “I’ll exert whatever influence you feel I may have over him to try and encourage him to be a little more appreciative of his position in life. Next time I see him, I’ll be sure to see what I can do to keep him under my thumb, proverbially speaking.”

Mortimer nodded, “Good, I knew I could count on you to assist,” he said, taking another bite. “You can go now,” he added.

Mirielle smiled. “Have a good weekend,” she offered, exiting the office.

Making her way back down to the lobby, she felt slightly annoyed at Mortimer and a little more sympathetic toward the lad. Of course, it didn’t change the fact she still intended to have her way with the boy.

Mirielle’s Apartment

Mirielle kept a fairly nice apartment on the fourteenth floor of a building not too far from the Hearst Building, often walking to work in the morning instead of driving.

Parking her car in the underground garage, she took the elevator back up to her floor and leisurely walked to her apartment.

It had been a long and tiring day, though exhilarating beyond imagination. The thought of a nice long hot bath brought a smile to her face. Entering the apartment, she clicked on the light and stepped into the kitchen area, setting her purse on the counter as she passed through into the dining room.

Pausing near the table, she looked down her body. “How are you doing Michael?” she asked, the question rhetorical as she knew he couldn’t hear her. Unfastening the button on her jeans, she wiggled her hips and slid them off. Next, she hook her fingers into the elastic of her soiled panties and pulled them down before parting her legs and opening the outer lips of her vagina to reveal her prize still held firmly.

He coughed and sputtered, feebly raising an arm. He had been stuck inside her for hours, marinating in the fluids of her climax.

Shaking her head, a look of chagrin on her face, “You are positively funky,” she said, taking his left arm between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand and gently tugging him free of the flesh holding him tight.

Lying near the edge of the table, his lower two thirds appeared ghastly pale and wrinkled. “Are you going to call Lucie?” he croaked, rolling onto his side to better face her.

She nodded, “Tomorrow. It’s getting late tonight,” she answered with a smile.

He shook his head, eyes welling, “You’re teasing me,” he accused, lower lip trembling as he brought his hands to cover his face.

“No, I will call tomorrow, I promise,” she assured.

“Really?” he asked hopefully, lowering his hands from his face and trying to push himself up.

She nodded. “But I think right now, we both could benefit from a bath,” she suggested.

“Okay,” he said, now on his feet, though his balance was a little unsteady.

Careful,” she warned, “I don’t want you to fall off the table.”

Shaking his head, he edged back away and sat down.

Picking up her discarded clothing, she sauntered half naked through the living room and down the hall toward the bathroom, where she removed the remainder of her clothes and deposited them in the hamper. Bending at the waist and turning on the faucet for the tub, she tested the water’s temperature before putting in a small spoonful of natural mineral salts.

Straightening, she lingered a moment as she passed the mirror, not yet steamed over. Reaching up, she corralled her reddish tinged golden hair and held it behind her head, an appreciative smile as she examined her gorgeous reflection. Her stomach made a small noise and she realized she was actually hungry.

Leaving the bathroom, she returned down the hall.

Michael watched her as she walked, shaking his head, she was an absolute goddess, her body moving with a natural sensual grace as she returned to the table.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, looking down at him.

He nodded mutely.

“Okay,” she replied, moving back into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator, the cool air within bringing goosebumps to her bared flesh.

Taking out the fruit medley in the small clear plastic container, she closed the fridge and grabbed a spoon from the drawer. At the table she pried the lid off and set it down, taking a couple of the smaller pieces of fruit and dropping them on the lid. She also took a couple of the larger pieces of strawberry for herself, eating them as she returned to the bathroom to check on the water.

Sitting down on the edge of the tub, she ran her hand through the water, steam rising up off the surface as she did so. Plopping the last piece of fruit in her mouth, she turned off the tap and went to get Michael, who was wrestling with a large blueberry almost the size of his head.

Letting him take a couple more bites, she picked him up and carried him back to the bathroom, placing him on the flat edge of the tub and stepping over him. Slipping into the water, she closed her eyes and letting out a contented sigh as the warmth embraced her.

”That feels absolutely amazing,” she murmured, her muscles relaxing in the soothing bath.

Allowing herself to slide down, she submerged her head before pushing herself back up and smoothing her hair back. Head and shoulders above water, the crowns of her buoyant breasts also breeched the surface.

Smiling, she glanced over at Michael. “Can you swim?” she asked.

Looking at the water then back to her, he nodded.

“Well come on then,” she encouraged, beckoning him with a hand.

Michael dove in head first. Surfacing, he swam slowly toward her, aching muscles protesting and rapidly becoming exhausted.

Coming up between her bosoms, resting his left hand against the slope of her right breast to catch his breath.

“Those girls really put you through the ringer,” she commented, watching him.

He nodded, pushing himself forward between her cleavage and collapsing onto her chest.

“Well once we call Lucie, hopefully she’ll be able to restore you to your former size,” she said.

He nodded.

“Do you know what you will do once you’re fixed?” she asked, moving her hand under the water and creating little waves that lapped against her chest.

“Make amends,” he said faintly. What he really wanted was vengeance. Make the girls tiny and see how they liked being used, but he didn’t dare say anything to Mirielle. He had plans for her too.

Together, they spent the next half hour in the tub, she washing him before cleaning herself. Done, she luxuriated in the milky cooling water another few minutes before setting him back on the edge and standing up. Like a gigantic Aphrodite rising from the waves, water spilled from her lovely body as she stepped out of the tub and dried herself.

The coy smile on her face told him, their night was now only just beginning.

Playtime

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide for Michael as he stood on the edge of the bathtub while Mirielle replaced her wet towel on the clear glass bar of the towel rack.

Reaching down, she swept him up off his feet, bringing him toward her chest as she exited the bathroom. He watched her breasts bounce with each step, nipples already erect as she hummed a familiar tune.

In the bedroom, she crawled up onto her bed. Lying on her back, she set Michael on her stomach, the flesh under his feet delightfully soft and warm from her soak in the tub.

He consoled himself with the knowledge she had said she would call Lucie. She promised. One more night of being at her mercy and then he would be restored. He could endure another round of love play, would endure. A stray thought gnawed at the back of his mind. What if Lucie declined? Or wasn’t home? Or couldn’t restore him? What then? What if it was only the wrinkled old lady and she refused? He might be stuck like this forever. The possibility filled him with dread trying to shut out the knowledge of what would happen if he was stuck like this permanently?

He started to tremble, doing his best to conceal his fear.

 “You you used to tell me I was beautiful. Is that why you are shaking?” she said coyly, hands sliding under the shapely flesh of her breasts as she massaged the supple skin.

He nodded mutely, trying to find a happy place in his mind to hide and withdraw from what he knew was sure to come. She was indeed beautiful, but terrible at the same time. His schoolboy crush on her seemed like it was eons ago. He had only been small for two days and had already experienced so much.

“We are going to do something different tonight, take our time,” she said softly, shifting her weight and drawing her knees up, parted.

What could she have in store that hadn’t been done already?

Her eyes sparkled as the sly grin spread across her face. Curling her right hand around him, she moved him down over her mound, holding him there.

“You see how excited I am?” she asked, the petals of her pussy parting almost as if on cue.

He closed his eyes, inhaling her fragrance. It smelled fresh and clean, unlike when he had been stuck there but it was so still daunting, like it wanted to swallow him whole.

Shifting her grip on him, she placed the index finger to the side of his head. Lowering him down, she used his skull, slowly swirling him through the slippery flesh, teasing her pussy.

Her keep his eyes closed, going limp in her hand and just allowing her to do as she pleased, not that he could have done anything to deter her anyway. The pressure she was applying and the friction was intense, he wanted to yell out as she brought herself closer and closer to release. Then she stopped.

Bringing him to her mouth, she dunked him in, coating him liberally in thick saliva before rolling onto her side and tucked her knees up. Reaching behind herself, him in her hand, she guided him carefully over a butt cheek and into the crack. Positioning him head first against the snug sphincter of her asshole, she pushed, his face parting the flukes. Was she really going to stick me up her bum? He didn’t know what to do. While he knew there was no point trying to resist because she was too big, too strong, he really didn’t wanted to go into her ass. She kept pushing, his head popping through her anus, the tight elastic bud conforming around his neck. He tried to squirm. The breadth of his shoulders required her to subtly shift her position before applying more force. Grudgingly her bud opened, swallowing his upper body. His passage into her sent electric thrills up and down her spine.

Before he was completely swallowed, he tried to get as much air into his lungs as possible, the dank, dark channel welcoming him and closing over his upper body.

She let out a heated breath, the sensation almost overwhelming her reason as her bum swallowed him.  Using her index finger, she pushed at his feet, driving him upward, her own digit sliding inside her ass as Michael was driven deep into her rectum.

He was all the way inside of her, in her ass. It was a strange and exciting sensation to feel him move within her, so completely different than when she needed to do a bowel movement. Rolling onto her back, she parted her legs, fingers dancing feathery soft over her heated and swollen flesh she had just so recently teased a moment before.

Smothered, he thought for sure he was going to die, an ignominious end in her rear end. Wrapped tightly in the sleek membrane of her rectum, he could feel her muscle twitch and move. Muscles undulated around, shifting as she moved.

The physiological sensation of stimulating herself, coupled with him struggling in her butt, plus the psychological ramifications of her complete and utter domination of the boy sent her over the edge, causing her orgasm hard, her whole body rocked by the intense explosion of ecstasy.

Still lying on her back, she giggled and shook her head, body glistening in perspiration from her pursuit of climax.

Getting up off the bed, she sauntered lazily back down the hall to the bathroom. Clicking on the light, she moved over to the toilet and peed. Michael had ceased moving. She dabbed herself and flushed. Leaning forward over the sink, she contracted her bum, like trying to expel gas. Reaching around with her right hand, she tickled her asshole, a tiny foot sliding out. Taking Michael’s foot, she flexed again and tugged him free. Bringing him around to the front, she straightened, looking down at her little piece of ass candy before placing him in the sink. Washing her hands, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. If only there was some way to keep him in there with suffocating him. Again her mind drifted to the boy’s father. If Lucie could somehow provide her the ability to make others small, maybe she would do this to the old, but put him in feet first, just his head exposed between the firm globes of her ass. Shaking her head, she smiled and turned on the faucet.

Sunday Morning

Setting up a little place for Michael to sleep on her nightstand, Mirielle knew there was no point in confining him, he would eagerly comply with her directives with the prospect of contacting Lucie so incredibly close. Stretching out languidly, a self-satisfied smile on her pretty face, she rolled her head to look at the tiny youth huddling in a folded facecloth beside her alarm clock.

“Good night Michael,” she said, blowing him a kiss. He nodded and curled into a fetal ball.

Chuckling, she reached over him and turned off the light, slipping easily into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Sunday morning, she allowed herself the luxury of sleeping late. Michael was already awake he she opened her eyes. Sitting up on his face cloth, arms wrapped around his knees.

Smiling, she rolled onto her side, propping her head up on the pillow. “Did you sleep well?” she asked.

He nodded. He wanted to ask, wanted to know when they were going to try and call Lucie but he didn’t want to anger Mirielle or give her cause to delay. She hadn’t said when they were going to call, just that it would be today. She had promised, so he would take it at that.

Reaching over, she tussled his hair slightly, “I guess you’re pretty anxious?” she said, grinning, as if reading the thought foremost in his mind.

“Yes,” he replied, eyes downcast. “Do you have an idea of when we might call Lucie?” he asked, voice so low she almost didn’t hear him.

Throwing the covers back off of her naked self, she sat up on the edge of the bed near him. “After I go pee, I’m going to brush my teeth, then I think, we will have another go around,” she said, nodding and parting her legs so he could see her vertical slit.

Again? Eyes still averted, he nodded.

“Just thinking about it is making me horny,” she said with a slight chuckle in her throat, standing up and facing the night table, her pussy looming over him.

“Okay,” he replied, looking up at her sex before turning away, intimidated by the groove.

Seeing his reaction to her privates, she lingered a moment, a smile playing at the corner of her luscious mouth, before humming to herself and skipping out of the bedroom.

Shaking his head, Michael got to his feet. It had seemed an eternity since Friday night when he went to sleep normal. It was only two days. He’d only been little for two days and already so much had happened.

Stretching his arms up over his head, muscles complaining, he glanced toward the door. At least with Mirielle, it was only her and he had been able to actually get some rest. With the others, it had been one after the other, then again.

Whatever delight she had conjured up in her fantasies overnight, he felt manage. Lucie was so close. He now refused to even consider the possibility she wouldn’t been able to help. He had come too far, experience too much to let that doubt creep into his mind.

He relieved himself on the corner of the terry towel facecloth while he waited for her to return.

When she came back into the bedroom, she had straightened out her hair, there was a smile on her face and she held what looked like a small plastic dental floss holder.

Sitting back on the side of her bed next to the night table, she set the floss down near him, “I was cleaning my teeth when a thought occurred to me,” she said, tilting her head to look at him.

He eyed the floss warily. “What thought?”

Leaning forward, she pulled out the small drawer in the night table and removed a huge clear transparent silicon sex toy and laid it down beside him on the face cloth. It’s length, not smooth, more realistic with ridges and bumps, was easily twice his height and even laying down it came up to his waist.

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking from floss to dildo. Is that what she had in mind?

“What do you think?” she asked, licking her lips, left eyebrow arched.

“Um,” he vocalized, shaking his head slightly, “I, I’m not sure I would fit,” he stammered.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she giggled, “I think I want you face up,” she said, taking the thick pleasure giving toy in her right hand and picking him up in her left. Placing his head near the tip of the dildo, feet toward the base, “Hold still,” she cautioned, retrieving the floss.

“Arms up,” she instructed, looping the floss around him and circling several loops down over stomach, thigh and lower legs.

Lowering his arms, she had tied him securely to the silicon, tight, but not painfully so.

Nodding to herself, she admired her handiwork. “Time to play,” she said cheekily, positioning herself on her back, knees up, parted.

Using the side of the dildo without him, she began to slowly teases herself, rubbing the sift silicon along the groove in her privates. Bound as he was with his back to what she was doing, he couldn’t see what was happening, listening to the squelching noises her vagina was making as her body began to respond to the stimulation and produce lubricant. The fragrance of her awakening sex toyed with his nostrils as he inhaled her pheromones, his own body responding despite the nearly overwhelming fear he felt. He could feel warmth permeating through the silicon, a combination of friction and her body.

Rolling the plaything to the side, she moved it back down over the outside of her swollen pussy, brushing him against a tender pink petal before turning him away and drawing the toy back up.

He knew it was only a matter of time and she was going to push him into her, deep inside. With each playful pass, she was becoming more and more aroused. Clear thick juice clung tenaciously to him as she slid him back down.

“Mmm,” she cooed, dragging him back up along the length of her swollen privates. Arching her hips, she used her free hand to part her lips to facilitate taking him.

“Wait,” he said, putting his hands out, but it was too late as she pushed him through the tight vaginal opening and inside her.

In the darkness there was a rushing sound in his ears. He was battered and buffeted as she drove him up deep into her before drawing him slowly back out.

Once more in the light, he coughed, swiping his hands over his face, “Mirielle,” he gasped only to be plunged back in.

He lost count of the strokes as she increased her tempo until finally she climaxed. Her pussy muscles clenching him and the length of silicon buried in her sex. He felt like he was going to drown as she slowly slid him out.

Not Done Just Yet

Bringing the dildo up to her face, eyes glinting, Mirille opened her mouth wide and extended her tongue, taking him inside and closing her lips around the dildo behind him. The inside of her mouth smelled of spearmint as she moved him over the warm wet pebbled textured surface of her tongue, the strong muscle molding around him, pushing him near the back of her mouth. He thought for sure the force of her suction would either collapse his tiny lungs or tear him away from the dildo and when she made some type of appreciative noise in her throat he thought for sure he was going vanish down the dark hole. But he didn’t. It was like she was tasting him, the tip of her tongue exploring his body as she slid him most of the way out then back in. The clear dildo allowed light in and it was with great trepidation every time he neared her pearly white teeth as she worked him in and out.

Her lips moving around his body as she removed the toy from her mouth. “Damn, that was sweet,” she chuckled, bringing him close and licking him from his feet back up over his head.

He turned his head and closed his eyes, the air cool against his wet slobbery skin.

“I’ll wager that was probably the best blowjob you’ve probably ever had,” she said with a giggle.

He nodded, trying to give her his best grin.

Seeing him there, so small, so helpless sent a shiver up her spine. Was is wrong it made her feel so good?

A wicked grin crossed her sweet lips, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, it’s customary to return the favor,” she said, eyes drifting to the pillow near her headboard.

He didn’t understand what she getting at, eyes watching as she straightened the pillow out and created a furrow with the ride of her free hand before setting him face up in the valley she had created with her hand.

Climbing up onto the bed, she brought her leg over him, straddling the pillow.

Gyrating her hips slowly, moisture glistening from her swollen genitals. “”stick out your little tongue for me,” she commanded.

Now he understood. She had given him ‘head’ and now she going to sit on his face, or rather his whole body. There was nothing he could do except watch as she lowered her pussy down over top of him.

As her pussy lips parted around him, he could feel her weight driving him into the pillow. If the air had been pushed out of him, he felt like he would scream as she ground her pussy up and down the length of the dildo, her flesh gliding over him leaving a mixture of clear and milky cream over him.

No matter how he thrashed or tried to move, he was trapped. When finally she leaned back, he gasped, pulling strings of her excitement away from his mouth and nose. “Stop,” he mumbled.

“Stop?” she asked, shaking her head slowly, “Sugar, we are only getting started,” she replied. Grinning, she traced a finger through her slit, grool coating it as she brought it out and down to his little face.

Reaching up, he batted feebly at her finger. Rubbing her fluid over his face, she leaned back down over top of him, smothering him with the flesh of her vagina, before grinding her hips slightly as arousal continued to ooze out of her.

There was nothing he could do, no way to get her to stop. He tried to thrash, pulling when he could at the unyielding dental flesh holding him fast.

Sitting back on her heels, she looked back down on his slick little body, his movements frantic and eyes wild. The sight of him glazed in her love secretions, struggling almost made her come right then.

Leaning forward again, she paused and lifted her left leg up so she was standing on it while also being on one knee and grabbed the base of the dildo, standing it upright in the center of the pillow, turning him so he was facing in her direction.

“No, what are you doing?” Michael cried out loud, eyes widening as he watched the large engorged vagina descending down toward him, lips parting around the head of the dildo before sliding over his face and swallowing his head.

Her interior was so slick and hot as she impaled herself on the toy, taking him deep inside before rocking herself on and off the dildo, her copious juices still drooling out and down the toy and onto her hand.

When she was about to come, she raised her bottom up so that only the very tip of the toy was inside her, his head touching the opening.

“I’m going to come,” she warned breathless. It was an odd sensation for him, as if he could feel the tension rising in her flesh through the toy. With a grunt and a muffled scream she came, jamming the toy hard up inside herself and flopping over onto her side, vaginal muscles convulsing spasmodically as she climaxed.

Lying there a moment, she pulled the dildo free with a wet popping sound. Rolling onto her back, she brought the toy over her left breast and traced the aureole around the rock hard nipple using his face before repeating the procedure with her right.

Finished, she lay the toy between her sweaty globes, reveling in the sensation still tantalizing her nervous system.

“That was good,” she murmured appreciatively.

 Coughing, he choked up some of her fluid.

Tucking her chin in, she looked down. Bringing her hands up, she turned him sideways and loosened the dental floss, lifting him up by the foot and holding him over her face, a single strand of come dangling from his hair. Giggling, she open her mouth and dropped him neatly inside, rolling him around the interior of her mouth before pushing him with her tongue up between her lips and pulling him free.

“Now, I think we might see if Lucie is taking any calls,” she said, the rosy glow of bliss coloring her cheeks.

A Promise Made

Michael lay on his side, quietly, hoping beyond hope that Mirielle wasn’t toying with him about calling Lucie as she got up from the bed and vanished down the hall.

Once she had gone, he examined the ligature marks on his body left behind by the dental floss, rubbing at the red marks. A wry smile crossed his lips. If Lucie could undo this situation, there would be payback. Let’s see how any one of those girls would like to be tied to his dick while he fucked another girl. See how they like that. The thought filled him with some measure of glee. Pacing over the disheveled sheets on the bed, Mirielle seemed to be gone for quite a while.

The sound of her returning quickly banished his revenge fantasy thoughts. She entered the room wearing a bathrobe and toweling her hair.

Swallowing hard, “Did you make the call?” he asked meekly.

Pausing in her deliberations, Mirielle smiled and shook her head, “Not yet,” she answered before resume drying her hair.

Letting out his breath slowly, he nodded, “Okay,” he said.

She laughed, dropping her bottom onto the bed near him, shaking the bed with enough force to knock him from his feet. “I need the number silly,” she said, fishing out her cell phone from the robe pocket and holding in her hand while looking at him.

He felt he had memorized the numbers, at least he prayed he remembered them in the right sequence. As he spoke them out, she repeated them.

“Got it,” she said, getting up from the bed.

“But,” he said, reaching a plaintive hand after her as she walked out of the room.

Pulling out one of the chair at the table in her dining room, Mirielle sat down, touching the green phone icon on the screen of her cell.

On the third ring, a female voice answered, “Hello?”

“May I speak to Lucie?” Mirielle asked.

“Speaking,” replied the voice.

“My name is Mirielle, I work for the Heart Group out of the building of the same name. I hope I am not disturbing you,” she introduced.

There was a pause followed by the sound of a soft chuckle. “You found him?” asked the voice.

“If by him you mean Michael Heart, then yes he is currently, how to say this delicately, in my care,” she answered.

“I warned him,” Lucie stated.

“There are a couple of reasons why I am calling, first, I feel connected to this situation in that Michael was taking your grandmother’s flowers and giving them to me as tokens of affection. I honestly didn’t know he was pilfering them until just yesterday when his sister explained it to me,” she explained.

“She is my dedanya, my great grandmother and she bears no ill will toward you,” assured Lucie.

“Thank you. Secondly, he seems to feel maybe you can help fix him, restore him to his former self?” she said.

There was a prolonged silence before Lucie responded, “Perhaps, it is not a simple thing to undo a curse of this magnitude. You say you have him with you?”

“Yes, currently we are at my apartment not too far from Hearst Plaza,” Mirielle replied. “I would very much like to meet with you to discuss this situation in greater depth?”

“Alright, if it’s close to the plaza I can see you within the hour. Can you give me the address?” prompted Lucie.

Providing the details, Mirielle disconnected the call. Getting back up, she sauntered down the hall. Michael was sitting cross legged in front of one of her pillows, looking timid and meek. Despite his frail and battered appearance, she had no doubt, somewhere in his tiny little brain, he was carefully tabulating a list of grievances he intended to seek retribution for.

“Well, she is on her way,” Mirielle announced, sitting back on the edge of the bed.

“Truly?” he asked, heart soaring.

Mirielle frowned. “I said so didn’t I? Do you think I would lie to you? I told you yesterday I would make the call and I did. Frankly, I’m a little put off by your lack of faith in the things I say,” she said.

His expression switched to panic. “No, I’m sorry, I mean I didn’t think you were lying. I am just excited is all,” he tried to explain, stumbling over his words to try and erase any unintended offense he had given.

Reaching over, she pushed him over onto his back, pressing down on his chest with her right index finger. “I know what you’re thinking, what you’re planning,” she stated, serious expression on her face.

Pushing weakly and ineffectively at her finger, “I just want to go back to the way I was before,” he asserted.

“You have experienced too much, too many things that mean you can never go back to the way things were before, no matter how much you might wish it. If you’re restored to your former self, you’ll be bigger and stronger than any of the girls who had their way with you Friday night and Saturday during the day. You will be bigger than me. I know you are harboring some ill will toward them and maybe me, fantasizing about what you might do to punish them or me,

“No,” he replied emphatically, shaking his head back and forth across the sheet. What he wanted was for them to be small and then he would exact his revenge.

She shook her head and chuckled, “You’re not very good at lying. If I get the impression any one of those girls is in danger, or you mean to cause them, or me, harm, that’s a straight up deal breaker,” she warned.

He was on the edge of crying, “You don’t know how they used me,” he sobbed, composure slipping.

Mirielle snorted, “Please, save your self-pity. You are alive and uninjured and have gotten to explore the feminine mystery in ways no one ever has before, well, to my knowledge,” she said.

She was right, he was feeling sorry for himself, powerless and at the mercy of others. He could have been killed by any one of them at any time.

“Tell me the last time you have this much pussy?” she asked with a grin. “Ever?”

He shook his head again.

“Exactly. Now remember, I think you are going to get violent and try and hurt me or any of those girls, it won't be pretty. Do you understand?” she inquired, pressing down a little more firmly to emphasize her point.

“Yes,” he bleated, trying to nod.

Removing her finger, she stood up, getting herself ready to meet with Lucie, pulling on a pair of black yoga pants and dark colored t-shirt.

Michael remained on the bed, trying not to hyperventilate.

Curse of the Gypsy Queen

Pressing the button to activate the security lock on the front door of the apartment building, “Come on up,” Mirielle said, waiting for Lucie and letting the girl in when she knocked on the door. Lucie was dressed in a long colorful dress, a shawl of sorts draped over her shoulders as well as a large purse/handbag. There was also a spangled necklace at her throat, catching light.

“It is so nice to see you,” Mirielle said, closing the door behind the girl after Lucie had walked in. She was

Lucie nodded. “And you,” she replied, a smile parting her plump lips.

“So, I thought maybe you and I should have a discussion before addressing the situation with Michael,” she suggested, showing the girl into the living room area of the apartment.

“First off, you should know I do not have the power to lift or undo the curse,” Lucie said, glum expression on her face as she sat down on the chesterfield.

Mirielle masked her disappointment. “Michael thought you could,” she stated.

Lucie shook her head. “You have no idea how powerful my dedanya is,” she said with an ominous chuckle. “How potent.”

Mirielle smiled. Michael was less than three inches tall, she felt she had some inclination.

“Amongst my people, she is királynp5;, like a queen in English,” Lucie explained. “She is more powerful than any other.”

“If you don’t think you can help undo the curse, why did you suggest to come over then?” Mirielle inquired, consoling herself with the notion, that at least she still had Michael to play with.

“I wanted to see if I could reason with him, maybe bring him to my dedanya to apologize for his behavior,” Lucie replied.

Mirielle didn’t much like the idea of relinquishing control over the boy. “Would she remove the curse?”

Lucie shook her head slowly, “It is very unlikely,” she said softly. “Usually when she applies a curse, she is fed up with that person. I tried to warn him, to get him to at least apologize.”

“What other options do we have then?” Mirielle inquired.

Leaning forward, Lucie frowned, considering. “I know for a fact I can’t take it apart, but,” she paused, “I might be able to transfer it off of him and into something else,” she offered.

“What does that mean?” she asked, taking a seat on the couch, sitting sideways to face the girl. “Transfer it? Like to another person? Or an object?” she queried, trying to understand.

“How to explain it?” Lucie asked, pursing her lips. “The curse will always be attached to Michael until my dedanya removes it or he dies, but if I can shift it into something else, he may be restored to his former self,” she explained.

“Into something else? Like what? A piece of jewelry or something?” Mirielle asked.

“Perhaps, “I’m not sure, it is a very complicated and complex hex,” she said.

“Now, before we explore restoring him, he has been, let’s say, handled by some young ladies in some very intimate ways,” Mirielle stated.

Lucie nodded, “I’m not surprised. There is something in the curse that seem to magnify the recipient’s vulnerabilities, which can have unusual effects on others,” she explained, grinning at the strawberry blonde.

Mirielle’s face colored slightly as she wondered if that was the origin of why she felt so incredibly aroused with him and why the other girls used him practically nonstop.

“I see by your demeanor you have,” she paused, seeking the right word, “Enjoyed some time with him?”

Mirielle nodded slowly, “Immensely enjoyed,” she replied, beaming smile on her pretty face.

Lucie nodded, “He should be thankful my dedanya allowed him to leave before the curse came to fruition. Others have not quite been so fortunate,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

Mirielle shuddered. She didn’t want to pursue what fates may have befallen others that had crossed the wizened old woman, “He may not be so amenable should he be brought back to his former self,” she cautioned.

Lucie shook her head, “If we can move the curse, it should be easy enough to fling it back onto him if he acts up,” she assured.

“So, if we are able to actually move the curse, say onto an inanimate object, could we then use the object to possibly place it on other people?” she inquired, fomenting the seeds of her idea.

Lucie seemed to ponder a moment, “I have never really thought about it. Possibly, but I don’t know. It is very old, very powerful magic,” she said, shaking her head. “And curses in particular can be very tricky.”

“Tricky?”

Lucie nodded, “If not handled correctly, it could easily lash back on the person attempting to manipulate it and that would definitely not be good,” she advised, serious tone in her voice.

Mirielle chuckled, nodding in full agreement. Getting back to her feet, “Why don’t I go and grab Michael from the bedroom?” she offered, looking at Lucie.

Lucie smiled and nodded, “I would be keen to see him,” she said.

Walking into the bedroom, Michael was still seated on the bed, crossed legged, eye downcast, submissive.

“She’s here,” Mirielle said, putting her hand down in front of him.

Getting to his feet, he climbed into the middle of her hand. He didn’t know if she was telling the truth or just fucking with him. He didn’t dare ask for fear she might think he was doubting her again. Sitting in her palm, he wrapped his arms around his knees, silently willing himself to not shake, but failing.

Lifting him up and bringing him in front of her chest. “You’re trembling,” she commented, “Are you scared?” she inquired, playful smile on her lips, eyebrows raised.

“Excited,” he replied softly but unenthusiastically.

She chuckled as she left the room and returned to where the dark haired gypsy girl was sitting.

“There you are little one,” Lucie said, rising to her feet and smiling down at the tiny boy seated in the palm of Mirielle’s hand.

He didn’t dare make eye contact, eyes down as his heart surged in his chest. Soon he would be himself again. He could worry about settling grievances later, right now all he wanted was to be big again.

A Snowball’s Chance

“Not quite so cocksure now, are you?” Lucie asked, holding her hand out to receive him in her palm, wide smile on her face.

Not trusting his voice to betray the emotion swelling in him, he shook his head as he settled in her hand.

Lucie let out a small noise, “It is quite profound, the sense of holding his little life in your hand,” she commented, looking at Mirielle.

The other woman nodded, grinning.

“Funny how something so seemingly trivial can lead to such dire consequences,” she commented, looking from Mirielle to the boy.

Eyes fixed on Michael, Mirielle nodded.

“I didn’t know,” he pleaded softly. “Looking back, I was so stupid. I see that now,” he assured, hoping he sounded contrite.

Lucie chuckled, “And now you are this harmless tiny little thing,” she said. “Truly, a small man as my dedanya said.”

He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“So what is it you want from me then?” she asked, cocking her head slightly to the side

Turning onto his knees, he adopted a supplicating position, hands brought before him, “Please, I want to be returned to my former size,” he stated, holding his breath, repeating the word please over and over in his head.

Pursing her lips, Lucie nodded, “To be restored?” she queried.

He nodded, “I have learned my lesson and I promise to never disrespect your great grandmother or anybody else ever again,” he offered, nodding vigorously.

“Hmm,” she noised, lips together, eyes narrowing.

“Money, I could offer you money too,” he added, trying to sweeten the offer.

“To return you to your regular size?” she clarified.

He nodded some more, sensing she might be seriously considering his offer.

“And that’s all you want?” She inquired.

“Absolutely, nothing more I swear,” he said, turning to look at Mirielle, “I even promised her I would be nice to my sister and her friends, no hard feelings. Please all I want is to be myself again,” he begged.

“So you want to be yourself again, and that’s all you want?” she questioned.

He nodded.

“You have no interest in either apologizing to my dedanya for taking flowers from her and disrespecting her, or asking her for her forgiveness for the error of your ways?” she asked, shaking her head. “Still only thinking of yourself,” she added.

He felt hope bleeding out of him as he felt the impact of her words, his features transforming from expectant to scared, “No, that’s not what I meant, I mean, of course, she is the first person I would seek out to make amends, face to face. I need to say sorry to her and I wouldn’t ask you to carry my message, it’s something I must do to repair the harm I’ve done. I only hope you would be able to put me in a position to do that, that’s what I meant, really,” he said, speaking rapidly as words spilled out of him as he tried to explain himself.

“You said all you wanted was to be restored, nothing else, you swore it,” she countered, throwing his words back in his face.

Mirielle brought a hand to her face to conceal a little smile.

“No, no,” he responded, shaking his head.

“No?” she asked, looking at Mirielle, “Am I mistaken?”

“He said,” Mirielle said, nodding.

Rising to his feet in Lucie’s hand, he held up his own tiny little hands, “You asked me what I wanted from you and I said only to be restored, yes I swore that. I did not presume to think it was your responsibility to approach your dedanya on my behalf,” he blurted, desperately trying sway her mind.

“You said you would never disrespect her or anyone else ever again, you promised?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he agreed, nodding affirmatively.

“Yet you ask me to sneak behind her back to undo this thing she has done to you,” she impugned. “Is that not asking me to betray her trust? Is that not a form of disrespect? Even as you plead and beg for what you want, false promises dribble from your mouth,” she stated, eyes narrowed, lips pulled in tight to her mouth.

Michael’s gut was sinking, he could feel opportunity slipping though his fingers. “No,” he replied, shaking his head.

“What would you call it then?” she asked, giving him an opportunity to extrapolate.

“Okay,” he said, trying to calm the rising fear he felt, “Yes, I would very much like to be restored so that I could go and apologize to great grandmother, your dedanya, and yes, I was asking if you could help me to do that. If you feel that helping me back to my former self would disrespect your dedanya, I would not ask this thing of you and gladly retract my request,” he said, nodding before flicking a glance at Mirielle then back to Lucie.

“So rather than disrespect my dedanya, you would wish to remain small?” Lucie asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I do not want to give her affront again. I was a smart-mouthed jerk.”

A slow smile spread over Lucie’s lovely face, “I am so glad you clarified that for me, for a moment there I think I was getting some mixed messages,” she said with a bit of a chuckle.

Hope rekindling, Michael smiled, “Thank you,” he said, letting out a big sigh of relief.

Reaching in with her other hand, she extended the index finger and tussled the hair on his head, “If it is your wish to remain small, then who am I to interfere?” she asked.

“Wait,” he started, “I only said I wanted to remain small if asking you to fix me would offend or disrespect your dedanya, not that I wanted to remain small indefinitely,” he hastily explained.

Mirielle was not quite sure herself where Lucie was taking thing this. Was Lucie going to help transfer the curse or was she just messing around? Was she going to leave things as they were? She didn’t know.

“Hmm,” Lucie said.

He wasn’t sure what to say next. Whether he might damage his chances further. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, he said, “I thought when you gave me your phone number, you were offering me a chance is all. If I misinterpreted, I am sorry.”

She smiled, “I accept your apology,” she said, a gleam in her eye.

Did he misinterpret? Why did she give him her digits then?

Ceremony

“So?” asked Mirielle, looking from Michael to Lucie, “What do we do next?” she inquired, eager to see if they could take the curse off Michael and place it in an inanimate object which then in turn, might be used to cast the curse onto other people. An image of Mortimer nestled in the gusset of her panties as she slowly pulled them up played in her mind.

Eyes lingering on Michael a moment longer, Lucie looked to Mirielle. “I’m going to need my bag,” she advised, eyes drifting back to the boy as she lowered her hand and set him on the surface of the dark colored wooden coffee table.

Michael, eyes still downcast, placed his hands in front and covered himself for the sake of modesty. Was she going to still try and restore him? Had he acquitted himself well enough she was going to try and if not lift the curse, at least move it off of him and onto an inanimate object? He tried to calm his thundering heart. So close.

“I’ll get it,” Mirielle volunteered, getting to her feet.

Lucie kept her dusky eyes on Michael, “So, how did you enjoy yourself in the hands of your sister and her friends?” she asked, an amused smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

He frowned, “I suppose Mirielle told you some of what they did, what she did,” he said, tone embarrassed. It had to be Mirielle, how else would she have known?

“And what have you learned during your little adventures?” she asked.

“What it’s like to be small and powerless,” he replied.

Mirielle reappeared, bag in hand. Setting it down on the coffee table in front of Lucie near Michael, she resumed her position on the chesterfield.

Leaning forward, Lucie opened the bag, pulling out a half abalone shell sporting rainbow hues. “Hold this,” she said, placing the shell in Mirielle’s hands before going back into her bag.

One by one, she brought out small containers, some glass, others plastic, each filled with herbs or colored powders. Bit by bit, she measured out portions of the various items in the containers, putting them in the half shell before returning the jars to her bag. Once she had taken something from each of the containers and returned them to the bag, she pulled out a long black raven’s feather, a thin strip of leather wrapped around the quill. Setting the dark feather on the table, she turned to look at Mirielle. “Before we begin, using magic like this demands a price,” she warned, looking from Mirielle then down to Michael. “And there are no guarantees we will be successful.”

“I don’t care, whatever it is, I’ll pay it,” Michael promised. It was going to happen! He was going to be fixed.

Lucie nodded slowly, “I’ll need some of your blood or hair,” she said, extending her hand palm up near him.

Pulling out several strands off his head, he put the fine hair on the end of her finger. She pressed her thumb over it and moved it over the shell before sprinkling in amongst the other ingredients in the shell.

Looking at Mirielle, “Is this what you want as well?” she asked.

Mirielle nodded.

“Then I will need a strand of your hair as well,” she said.

Reaching up, Mirielle teased out a single strand tugging it gently before handing it to the gypsy.

“Your Dedanya never did any of this,” Michael said, watching the process. Rubbing his hands together, he was excited.

Lucie snickered, “She is much, much more powerful than I am,” she said, placing the strawberry blonde hair into the shell. “I think this it. One more word of caution, this is a curse and the magic is powerful and unpredictable, are you sure you want to try it?” she asked.

Michael nodded vigorously.

“We will need an object to serve as a receptacle for the curse.

“What about this?” Mirielle asked, pointing to a silver colored ring on her right hand index finger.

Lucie nodded, holding out her hand.

Pulling the ring off, Mirielle set it in Lucie’s hand.

Placing the ring beside the shell near Michael, “Alright then,” Lucie said, pulling out a small box of matches and taking out a wooden match.

Speaking words similar to the language she had spoken in the plaza the day he was cursed, she lit the match and dropped it into the shell holding the ingredients. There was a small puff of grey smoke, the smell of something sweet burning. Grabbing the feather, she wafted some of the smoke over Michael toward the ring.

“It is done,” she said, nodding slowly and setting the feather down on the table and leaning back against the couch.

Michael was unchanged. Looking down at his hands, then up to Lucie, he shook his head, “Nothing is happening,” he said, panic edging his voice. He didn’t feel any different.

Mirielle too, felt given the whole ceremony setting up the ritual and the ominous warnings of how unpredictable the magic might be, the payoff seemed kind of anticlimactic.

“Silly boy, when you shrank, did it happen immediately? No,” she said, “It will take time.”

He nodded slowly, hands trembling as he struggled to restrain his anxiety, there was an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach, queasy, but not nauseous. “It’s happening,” he said softly, head bobbing. Looking up, he repeated himself, more vociferously, jubilant expression on his tiny face.

Lucie smiled, “See.”

The sensation seemed to radiate out of that one spot, spreading outward over his limbs, the sensation making him shudder uncontrollable, that feeling you get when someone walks over your grave. “It’s really happening!” he cried, dropping down onto his knees before toppling forward in a tiny heap.

Leaning forward, Lucie took Michael by the leg and lifted him up off the table, bringing him up in front of her face.

“Will he be restored?” Mirielle asked, leaning forward.

Lucie turned and smiled, “Tampering with curses and agreeing to pay whatever cost might be extracted, who is to say?” she said.

“I feel faint, kind of odd,” Mirielle commented, slumping back down in the chesterfield and bringing a hand up to her face.

Lucie nodded, reaching over and patting Mirielle on the knee.

Mirielle felt like she had been drinking heavily, her brain and muscles disconnected and operating independently, her vision swimming before blackness closed in.

Swindled

Michael awoke feeling stiff and sore all over, the ground under him soft and spongy. Body aching, he struggled to sit upright only to find he was covered in an orangey colored diaphanous material reminding him of parachute silk. There was soft illumination all around, but he could not pinpoint a source, the area through the material indistinct.

There was strong scent of incense hanging in the air, cloying and thickly sweet.

There was groan a short distance off to his left, soft and feminine. Pushing through the fabric, he saw Mirielle lying there supine, nude. Her body proportionate to his the way it was before he was shrunk.

“Yes!” he yelled out triumphantly. It’s over, thank fucking Christ! He pumped his fist.

Groaning again, she rolled onto her side, facing him, eyes blinking independently a few times before synchronizing.

Shuffling through the fabric, he moved to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. He was of half a mind to roll her onto her stomach and just take her abruptly from behind for the liberties she had taken with him.

“What?” she murmured, her voice distant and not quite completely coherent.

Nodding, lopsided grin on his face. She seemed so small now. When he had been shrunk, she was so incredibly massive, frightening almost. Eyes roaming down her naked body, he couldn’t believe she had stuffed him into her cunt and her ass. He was bigger than her now and the shoe was definitely now on the other foot.

“Michael?’ she asked, focusing her eyes on his face.

“In the flesh,” he said, licking his lower lip. Fuck, big, small, she was still fucking gorgeous. Only now he would be the one in charge he thought. Nodding his head slowly.

“It worked,” she commented, pushing herself into a seated position against the sheer fabric. “Why am I naked?” she asked, as if just noticing her lack of clothing for the first time.

“Maybe you’re my reward for all the shit your and Maddie and her whore girlfriends put me through,” he suggested, sneering off the side of his face.

Mirielle shook her head, “I don’t think so. There’s something wrong here,” she commented, pushing her hands up against the semi-translucent material.

Rocking back up onto his knees, “Yeah, like now I’m not so small, let’s see how you handle me,” he stated confidently, touching his flaccid penis.

She looked at him and pursed her lips, “No, I’m telling you something is amiss,” she stated.

He reached out and grabbed at her right breast.

Taking hold of the ring and little fingers of his right hand, she bent them backward forcefully, causing him pain. “I knew you wouldn’t honor your end of things,” she snapped, giving his nearly dislocated fingers an extra crank before releasing his hand and pushing it forcibly away.

Cradling his injured fingers in his left hand, “You put me between your butt cheeks and crammed inside your asshole!” he complained, face a mixture of anger and hurt.

“You have been chasing after that ass for the last two years, so you’re welcome,” she snorted, holding her hands up to look for the ring they had used in the ceremony, but finding her fingers bare. “Dammit,” she cursed.

“You used me,” he accused, flexing the fingers on his right hand as the pain diminished. “For your own twisted satisfaction.”

“So now what? To get even, you’re going to try and rape me to get your revenge? So we had a little fun together you and I. Get over it. Need I remind you I was the one who took you out of the clutches of those girls and brought you to Lucie?” she retorted.

He stared at her hard, wishing she was small.

“Now, help me find the edge of this thing,” she said, crawling through the fabric on hands and knees.

“Where are you going?” he asked, hurrying to catch up to her.

“I’m trying to figure that out and the last thing I need right now is you behaving like an asshole. Be thankful you’re not small anymore, otherwise that’s exactly where I would put you, except this time head first,” she replied, an edge to her voice.

Following her in silence, they came to a precipitous drop, the fabric spilling down the side into shadow.

“What?” he asked. Craning his head forward trying to look over the side of the dangerous edge, he pulled back.

Turning her head, she looked at him, face an unhappy mask of anger. “Let’s follow the edge. Be careful you don’t slip over, the fall will kill you,” she said, turning and moving under the fabric along the edge of the drop. Continuing along, they reached a right angle, a huge wooden pillar stretching up and out of sight through the material.

Suddenly Mirielle sat back on her haunches, “Let’s see if we can pull this up,” she suggested, flicking a glance in his direction, grabbing hold of the material and trying to pull it up from over the edge of the drop. The fabric was fairly light and sheer, together they were able to draw the material up until an edge passed over them. Getting to her feet, hands on her hips, she started to laugh as her eyes followed the great wooden support pillar.

Michael stopped, “What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to figure out what caused her to laugh.

“I think I know where we are,” she stated, slight nod of her head. There were four long wooden columns extending skyward, the same flimsy material hanging high overhead. At the far end opposite them were two huge mounds of fabric.

“Oh?” he remarked, “Where?” he inquired, peering out into the distant gloom.

She turned her head to look at him, amused expression on her face, “This is someone’s bed,” she said. “Four poster, pillows at the far end,” she said pointing.

He looked, mouth falling open. She was right. He hadn’t been restored. Someway, somehow, the magic had instead made Mirielle small and he was still the same size. It was all he could do not to cry.

Strangers in a Strange Land

“For goodness sake,” Mirielle said dryly, looking at the mopey expression on Michael’s face.

“You don’t understand,” he stammered, on the verge of breaking down.

Mirielle snorted, “I don’t understand?” she asked, spreading her arms wide. “What is it I’m missing?”

He shook his head.

She was amazed at the transformation. Only a short time ago he was full of bravado and ready to throw her to the ground, now he was acting like a child. Walking over to him, she grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen, whether by design or a complication of the magic, getting all maudlin right now isn’t going to help,” she said.

He nodded, sniffling.

Releasing him, Mirielle turned to take stock of their surroundings. The only light in the room was coming from a small lamp on a night table beside the bed, a colored silk handkerchief over the shade muting the light considerably and giving everything a weak orange glow. In the shadowed distance, she could make out the rough shapes of several pieces furniture.

“We need to hide,” he whimpered, eyes turning to look toward the head of the bed where the pillows were. There was some sense of recognition there, but he couldn’t place the feeling of familiarity.

She turned her head. “Why?” she challenged.

Swinging his head back to face her, “Because it’s the only thing we can do,” he blurted, his eyes narrowing as he remembered how she had handled him.

“What we need is wait and talk to Lucie to see if she can reverse what has happened,” Mirielle said, pacing along the edge of the bed. “She told us there could be unusual side effects,” she added.

Michael laughed, out loud and raucously, the sound halting her in her tracks.

Turning, “What so goddamn funny?” she demanded, shaking her head as she held him with her eyes.

“You think our situation was an accident?” he asked, laughing anew. “I see it all with such clarity now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she questioned, walking back toward him.

“I think Lucie did this to you on purpose,” he replied, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Did this to us. She was never going to help me, she just lured you into a trap and you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker and I got dragged along. This is all your fault!”

“Why on earth would she possibly do that?” she asked, shaking her head. “Try and trap me?”

Michael nodded, eyes wide, “Because you wanted the power. She set you up and you took the bait. She’s a lying cheating gypsy just like her ancient great grandmother and she screwed you just for the sake of fucking you over. That’s what they do!” he asserted.

“Nonsense,” she scoffed, screwing up her pretty face. “That’s a really ignorant statement,” she stabbed back, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Had she been set up? Why? What possible reason could Lucie have to shrink her down? Mirielle shook her head. This certainly wasn’t how she expected the circumstances to play out. Not by a long shot.

“Think about it. If it was an accidental reaction to meddling with the curse why are we here in this place? Why aren’t we still at your apartment while she’s trying to figure out what went wrong? She moved us. Why? Answer me that,” he stated, tone mocking.

This wasn’t her room. Was it Lucie’s? “Maybe as a result of the side effects Lucie needed to bring us to her great grandmother,” Mirielle speculated, shrugging her shoulders. “To undo it.”

Shaking his head in negation, “Nope, but soon you’ll know,” he taunted, like a petulant child.

“What? Soon I’ll know what?” she asked, hands on hips, stance defiant.

“How it feels to be tiny and helpless and used for someone else’s amusement,” he answered nodding, leering grin on his face.

“We’ll see,” she replied dismissively.

“You’re wasting your time. There is no hope of rescue,” he spat.

She snorted, “I think I liked you better when you were blubbering,” she scolded, bringing her knuckles up to her to mime crying.

“Ridicule me all you want, it won’t change the fact that you are now in the same predicament as I was,” he replied, nodding.

“Whatever,” she replied, refusing to be drawn into his rant.

Chuckling, he nodded, then suddenly his expression and demeanor changed, turning to one of sheer fright. Turning his head back and forth quickly, some grim realization dawning on him, he started shaking his head rapidly from side to side, “No, no, no,” he shrieked, dropping down onto his knees, face in his hands.

“What the?” she asked, confused by his abrupt comportment change. She moved closer to him while he continued to shake. Had his mind actually broken?

“No,” he sobbed.

“What?” Mirielle asked.

“I know now exactly where we are,” he said, lifting his head out of his hands and looking up at her.

“Okay, where are we? Lucie’s place?” she inquired.

“This is Madison’s room,” he said.

“Your sister’s room?” she asked.

He nodded.

“This is her bed,” he replied.

Mirielle frowned. Madison’s room? Why would Lucie bring them all the way back out here? Putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “Well that’s good then. At least we know where we are,” she said. Was it good?

“No,” he breathed, “It means I’m back where this all started,” he added, red eyes darting around the shadows like a frightened rabbit.

Shaking her head, she decided she needed to leave, leave Michael to wallow. Circumnavigating the perimeter of the bed, she figured it was entirely possible to get to the floor if they wanted to by jumping to the night stand and lowering themselves using the cord on the lamp. The question was why. Running away would do absolutely nothing to rid herself of the curse. Lucie had brought them back out to the Hearst home for a purpose. The next logical step in her mind was to find out what that purpose was.

There were the sounds of footfalls coming from beyond the darkened frame of the door, light spilling in from beyond as the portal swung inward.

Suddenly the whole room was bathed in pale yellow light from the fixture at the ceiling.

She could see the gigantic form of Madison as Michael’s sister entered the room.

Familiar Faces in Familiar Places

Simply attired in tight stretchy pants and a snug t-shirt, Madison padded across the bedroom floor, crouching down low, her face almost level with the plane of the bed.

Mirielle nodded, somber expression on her face. It was obvious Madison had forewarned Lucie of her plan. “I don’t understand,” she said, shrugging her tiny shoulders.

Madison nodded slowly, “I think it was your unbridled ambition to try and wrest the ability to shrink and unshrink people that first concerned me,” she said softly, laying her arms on the edge of the bed and lowering her chin down.

“But you understood,” Mirielle countered.

“That you wanted the ability, certainly. Why was the question I needed to ponder,” she stated. “I mean we both know the whole reason Michael was thusly reduced in stature was to instill some measure of humility into him.”

Mirielle turned and looked to where Michael was standing, near the center of the bed. Extending her arm, “Well, has he been humbled enough?”

Madison laughed, “Hardly. Let me ask you, when you woke up was he full of gratitude and contrition for his miscreant behavior?”

Mirielle shook her head slowly, “I suppose not,” she conceded.

“Exactly,” Madison replied, “His education needs to continue,” she stated.

“Okay, what about me?”

Madison smiled, “Hubris,” she said. “You thought you could glean millennia old knowledge out of what you presumed were simple old world village folk and there would be no cost.”

“Not true,” Mirielle protested, “I hoped I could garner the ability or use it for my own purposes, that is absolutely true, but I was up front about my intentions the whole time. I said to you ‘If this can be done and undone, is it possible to transfer the ability to do this to another person, or place it some kind of ingestible substance, or maybe in an inanimate object?’ that’s what I said. Do you remember?”

“Yes, you said that I was my father’s daughter and capable of seeing the broader strokes, but that I was blinded by my emotional attachment to see my brother brought low, all the while you had him tucked up inside your vagina,” Madison recalled. “You also said it was important to gain Lucie’s trust to try and find a way to get the ability to shrink people.”

“Yes,” Mirielle said, nodding, “Again I was honest.”

“True,” Madison conceded, “But it begged the question, why did you want the ability? Why couldn’t you just enjoy the uniqueness of the situation and take delight in the opportunity to play with Michael? Help him understand the impact of his behavior?”

Mirielle frowned. Had she gotten greedy? Blinded by lofty ambition to bring Mortimer low? What about the cop? Would she have shrunk him if she had the chance? Yes.

“I can see you are coming to understand,” Madison said.

“Yes,” Mirielle acknowledged. “So that’s why called Lucie and forewarned her about my intent?”

Madison twisted her head from side to side, “Lucie? No. When you left here with my brother in stow, I called Adelina and told her you intended to undermine her curse and try to learn how to use it for own purposes,” she said.

“And she told Lucie, who in turn did this to use,” Mirielle nodded.

Chuckling, Madison lifted her head and pushed herself up to a standing position near the bed. “No, it was never Lucie,” she said, turning her head toward the door.

“I’m sorry?” Mirielle said.

“It was never Lucie. You dealt directly with Adelina herself,” she explained.

“But, at my apartment?”

“Adelina,” Madison said.

“No, how?” Miirielle asked.

Bending forward, Madison placed her hands on the bed to either side of the strawberry blonde, “Do you not think perhaps it is possible for a woman who possesses the ability to actually shrink people down to maybe also have an ability to change the way she looks? Come on,” she encouraged.

Mirielle didn’t know what to think. Had it really been Adelina the whole time, masquerading as Lucie? Honestly she wouldn’t know, she had never really taken the time to speak to either and had no idea what they were like. Madison had. She had said so. She had said she had stopped and spoken to Adelina a few years back, even knew where the old woman had come from, when she was born. Nodding slowly, she understood, her presumption was inverted. Everyone thought the little rich girl, whose name was on the plaza was taking an indigent old woman under her youthful wing, when it was the other way around the whole time. The crone had been looking out for the girl. Madison had offhandedly said it was just one day, but it had to be more, had to be ongoing. Which would explain the call. “Adelina,” she murmured, replaying the interaction in her head. It made sense now. It was all about the lesson. Not just for Michael, but for her. He had been right, it was a trap.

Madison stood upright again, looking down on Mirielle a moment before her eyes drifted over to Michael, a smile parting her lips.

“So what now?” Mirielle asked, pulling Madison’s attention back onto her.

“Well,” Madison said, drawing the word out, hands sliding around behind her back as she shifted her weight from hip to hip and grinned down at Mirielle.

Michael let out a strangled cry and suddenly began to run toward the pillows, crossing the surface of the bed as quickly as his little legs would carry him.

Eyes catching the movement, Madison chuckled, “Oh Michael,” she said amusedly.

Mirielle turned her head to look at the fleeing form of the giant girl’s brother before looking back up at Madison. “Anyway,” Madison said, eyes falling back on Mirielle once Michael had concealed himself near the pillows, “What was it you said about me missing out? On the outside looking in? About my friends getting to experience sexual fulfillment and leaving me with nothing more than bittersweet vengeance?” she queried.

Standing there looking up at the gorgeous Madison Hearst, Mirielle had to admit the sense of perspective was truly intimidating. There was a certain feeling of insignificance, like walking in amongst dinosaurs or swimming with whales. She had been on the other side of the equation when she had possession of Michael and she wondered just what Madison might have in store. While she and the girl did not have the acrimonious history Madison shared with her brother, who knew? A thought suddenly occurred to her. If Adelina knew some trick to make her look like Lucie, could she also not pass herself off as Madison?

The Shoe on the Other Foot

Knowing what was about to happen. Mirielle remained fast, watching the girl cross the room to extinguish the overhead light before coming back to the side of the bed and commencing to slowly undress. Madison was absolutely beautiful in the weak light, soft shadows playing of her wonderfully sculpted body.

A smile crossed Mirielle’s face. There had been a couple of times in college she had slept with women, though certainly not under these circumstances.

Madison lowered her hand down onto the bed near Mirielle, palm up.

Stepping forward, Mirielle climbed in to the hand before Madison lifted her up.

Knowing her brother had taken refuge under her pillows, “Be careful there Michael,” Madison warned, climbing up onto the bed and settling on her knees, Mirielle still in the palm of her hand. Bringing the tiny strawberry blonde haired up close to her face, Madison smiled.

Placing her hands on Madison’s plump lower lip, Mirielle was surprised to discover Madison’s lips, while immense were still supple, soft, and resilient to her touch and her breath was fresh when she parted her lips to exhale.

Leaning her face close, Mirielle licked her own lips and kissed Madison passionately on the lower lip.

Puckering her lips, Madison returned the kiss, though the size disparity made it a little awkward. Repositioning Mirielle onto her back in her hand, she parted her lips and extended her tongue, tracing the line of Mirielle’s leg up from the knee, over the hips and tenderly flicking across the tiny woman’s breasts leaving a glistening trail of saliva.

The sensation was frightening and exciting at the same time for Mirielle, as Madison continued to use her tongue to explore her. Parting her legs to provide access, she let out a breath as the tip of Madison’s tongue snaked in between her legs and up onto her tummy before darting back down.

Mirielle let out a small groan, pushing her hips up against the pressure of Madison’s artful tongue as the gigantic girl used it to explore the tiny woman in her hand.

Shifting her legs out from under her, Madison reclined back on the bed, head on the pillow to her left as she lowered Mirielle down to her chest. She briefly wondered if her brother might be trapped pinned under there, but when Mirielle wrapped her legs around the nipple of her right breast and squeezed it, Michael vanished from her thoughts.

Mirielle’s ministrations, although light, did tease, sending a shiver of delight down Madison’s spine. Bringing her left up to her breast, she cupped it, flicking the nipple between thumb and forefinger, a contented noise escaping her lips.

Spurred on by the sounds Madison was making, Mirielle redoubled her efforts, surprised at how incredibly horny she herself felt as she practically assaulted the nipple before her.

Madison allowed this to continue for a few minutes, before nudging the tiny woman downward.

Getting the hint, Mirielle migrated south, down the rounded breast slope and onto Madison’s tight trim belly, ultrafine blonde body hairs tickling her feet. Continuing passed the girl’s navel, she crossed the gentle rise of Madison’s smooth clean shaven Mound of Venus to stand over the crease in the giant girl’s privates. The fragrance was fresh and heady. Ready. Dropping down on her knees, Mirielle positioned herself over the retracted hood of Madison’s engorged clitoris, straddling it and taking the sensitive nub itself between both of her hands. Holding the sensitive flesh fast, she began to grind her own privates against it, slowly, gyrating from side to side.

Madison’s body trembled at the contact, she tilted her pelvis upward and parted her legs further as she slid her right hand under her ass and slid her index finger inside her drooling vagina.

Mirielle watched, rocking back and forth as Madison eased the finger in and out before removing her hand and bringing it around, slick finger near Mirielle’s face. Pushing herself up onto her knees, Mirielle took hold of Madison’s glistening finger and pulled it down to her face, tasting the girl’s excited cream before dropping back down on the clit and accelerating the pace of her movements. She could the muscular tension of the flesh beneath her rising, as Madison’s breathing got shorter and quicker.

“Come on,” Mirille urged as she continued to ride Madison’s privates, head thrown back as her own passion was fueled and carrying her beyond the point of no turning back.

Mirielle felt herself erupt, her hot pussy convulsing directly on Madison’s most sensitive little spot, causing the enormous girl to let out an audible cry as she too came.

From Mirielle’s tiny perspective, Madison’s climax seemed to be positively cataclysmic, juices flowing copiously out of Madison’s sex, the flesh contracting and twitching erratically in the throes of release. It was all she could do not to be thrown, like a rider from a horse. When Madiuson’s orgasm seemed to subside, Mirielle kicked her legs out, bringing her feet forward and allowing herself to slide down the hot slippery groove coming to stand on the bed in the damp space between Madison’s thighs.

The sensation was electric for Mirielle, her body glazed with the thick result of Madison’s ecstasy. Dropping back to her knees, she felt herself come again.

“Mmm,” Madison murmured appreciatively, shaking her head from side to side. “You were exquisite,” she complimented as she reached down and picked Mirielle up.

Chest heaving from exertion, Mirielle grinned, the experience was amazing as Madison lay her against the upper swell of a large alabaster breast, huge but delicate fingers caressing the tiny woman’s side tenderly.

Mirielle hadn’t known what to expect, but she was surprised at how loving and gentle the exchange with Madison had been. She herself having used Michael much more vigorously and creatively, she knew her encounter with Madison could certainly have been much less a sharing.

Head still on the pillow, Madsion spoke, “Michael, you should be exceedingly grateful to Mirielle for this wonderful mood she has put me in,” her voice sonorous.

Mirielle smiled.

Michael

Given a set of extraordinary circumstances, a person can respond in either of two ways. One, crumble in the face of overwhelming adversity and be forever swallowed by it, or two, find a previously unknown inner reserve of strength and courage allowing them to rise to the challenge.

For eighteen years, Michael Hearst had floated through life, spoiled, able to absolve himself of all responsibilities, using his name and position to place himself above others with little or no regard for the effects he had on those others. Right here, right now, huddled on hands and knees in the hollow between two pillows on his sister’s bed, Michael had his moment of epiphany. He could simply surrender to the self-pity drowning him, or he could fight. Giving up would be easy.

In a moment of absolute clarity, it seemed as if his entire life flashed through his mind. Although he knew he had been a shit, he now understood the deeper ramifications of his behavior and the effects he had on others. Did he deserve to be made small? Perhaps, though he didn’t know. What he did know was that he was no longer going to be the hapless pawn in this drama unfolding around him. No longer was he going to be a piece of driftwood at the mercy of the waves. No longer would he blubber and sob at his misfortune. Nodding slowly, he wiped his tear streaked face and sniffling nose. He would not go gentle into the void.

Lowering himself down the crevasse between the mattress of the bed and the headboard, he managed to get down onto the box spring. Following it to the side of the bed, he grabbed hold of the edge of the quilt draping down from atop the bed and lowered himself close to the floor, dropping the rest of the way. Landing on the soft carpet, he paused to look around.

The sounds coming from above were those of passion and love play. He suspected Mirielle now understood or at least had a greater appreciation for what it was to be at the whim of another. A smile crossed his smile, not because he took delight in Mirielle’s situation, but because he did not feel spiteful or vindictive, instead only compassion and commiseration.

Commiseration? Reflecting back, he knew he could not honestly say that his entire handling had been distasteful.

Shaking his head, he skirted along the edge of the wall, arriving at the door. Dropping down low, he crawled under the narrow space and into the hall. This was indeed the Hearst home, the sense of familiarity giving him a small measure of comfort. At least he knew the lay of the land.

He could hear the sounds of two voices coming from down below as he hurried down the hall. He didn’t understand the words they were speaking but the tone suggested they were arguing. Deciding he wanted to see what was happening, he crossed the carpeted floor, taking cover near one of the spindles under the railing overlooking the landing below.

There were two women standing in the foyer almost toe to toe, engaged in a heated and animated conversation, body language full of arm gestures and gesticulation. One of the women was clearly Lucie, shaking her lovely head and waggling an index finger at the other woman. He didn’t recognize the other woman but her resemblance to Lucie was enough to suggest they were related, perhaps a slightly older sister. She possessed long dark hair with a slight wave, dark eyes. She was beautiful and defiant as she allowed Lucie to speak.

When Lucie was done, the other woman replied in the same language, then he saw it, when she moved her arms and the shawl across her shoulders shifted. The spangled necklace around the throat of the other woman. The exact same spangled necklace he had seen on Lucie who had turned out to be not Lucie. It had to be Adelina. Could she change her appearance at will? Had she been wearing it the day she had cursed him? He couldn’t remember.

He felt the prickly fingers of fear in his gut. He refused to be debilitated by the sensation, resolving himself to use the cautioning sensation. He wondered after the nature of the conversation. Why was Lucie here? What were they fighting about? Did it involve him and Mirielle?

She had tried to warn him, convince him to make amends and he had foolishly ignored her. He frowned. If maybe he could somehow get her alone, would she be receptive to aiding him or Mirielle?

His concealment felt too limited, leaving him vulnerable and exposed, He decided he needed a better place to hide. The problem was where. When Madison discovered he was gone, which would now be much sooner than later, where would she look? That’s the first place she would think he would go would be to his room, somewhere he might feel safe. He nodded, that’s where she would look for him first. He chuckled to himself, it was actually the first place the old Michael wanted to go so it was most definitely out.

If only he could get downstairs, there were so many ideal places he could hide himself down there. Plus, Lucie was down there. Imperative bid him move, but seeing Lucie so close made him reluctant to leave. She was here now, and if she left the house, he doubted she would ever return.

Indecision paralyzed him, Should he just go hide? Dad’s room maybe? Or, should he try and catch Lucie’s attention? Adelina suddenly turned and walked away from the entryway, out of his field of view and deeper into the house, Lucie on her heels.

Michael’s new found sense of self leapt into action. Running to the stairs, he lowered himself over the edge, hanging by his hands. Glancing down, the space beneath his feet was still about ten feet. Releasing his grip, he dropped down, tucking and rolling.

The impact was less than he thought. Hustling quickly, he descended another stair, then another. Then he heard the sounds of the voices drawing closer from below.

Determined, he made his way down two more stairs when Adelina came into his line of sight. He immediately tucked himself behind one of the spindles under the bannister. He could feel his heart racing.

“Enough!” Adelina barked, this time in English, shaking her head assertively. “We shall discuss this no further.”

“No,” Lucie replied, shaking her own head. “You must undo this thing,” she said, “before irreparable harm has occurred.”

Adelina snorted, indignantly. “What is done is done.”

History

“What about your granddaughter?” Lucie challenged.

Adelina’s face grew dark, “You leave your mother out of this,” she warned, menace in her tone as she turned away.

“No, you are the one treading in dangerous waters with this curse,” Lucie cautioned.

“What do you know of such things, you were but a girl when she was lost, you’re still a child now,” she rebuked, shaking her head.

“I know she was seduced by the power, losing herself to it. I know she used this exact curse for her own pleasure. I know she consumed people, the ones she shrunk, devoured them. How many suffered because of it?” Lucie countered, stepping back in front of the other woman, her body language animated.

“Your mother’s action were regrettable. She abandoned the training,” Adelina said wistfully.

“And the power consumed her!” Lucie argued.

“Exactly!” Adelina barked, “And now this Mirielle, this arrogant little girl wants that exact same power,” she added. “So she must be taught what it means to meddle in things she cannot understand!”

“If you’ve no intent to teach her how to manifest a curse like this, what then is the point of your lesson? What is she to glean from your wisdom here? And by doing this, what other lessons are you also teaching Madison? How to be vindictive and petty, exacting justice the old way?”

“There is only the old way!” Adelina said vehemently, face reflecting her ire.

“No, you yourself broke from tradition when you decided to begin teaching Madison in our ways, there is still room for compromise in you,” Lucie offered. “Remove the curse,” she petitioned, voice turning soft, imploring.

“No,” she declared, shaking her head.

“What’s going up there is wrong, unnatural,” Lucie stated. “A brother and a sister.”

Adelina laughed, “The brother’s experience is the retribution Madison deserves for his arrogance, Mirielle is the gratification Madison needs to temper her turbulent emotions.”

Shaking her head, long hair swaying, “What possible gratification could be achieved?” she scoffed.

Grinning, Adelina’s eyes narrowed, “And what would you know of such things?” she challenged. “You have never experienced a little one before, experienced the rush of delight such a union brings,” she stated, chuckling softly.

“That’s true, I haven’t taken a little one,” she conceded, “because of what it did to my mother.”

“You are so naïve, allowing your passion for what you perceive to be right to cloud your judgement,” she accused.

“I know the price you are exacting is too steep for the transgression,” Lucie declared, pointing a finger up the stairs.

“Then you know nothing,” Adelina asserted back, lips pulled back.

“Then what am I missing?” challenged Lucie, crossing her arms. “Tell what it is I am failing to see in your grand scheme here? You had me drive you all this way out here for what?” she demanded. “So you could watch this thing unfold?”

“No, I have for Madison’s sake. She now is the key and I will leave it for her to decide,” she said. “This is for her, she has the ability to unravel this curse as she chooses and it is her discretion the direction this curse takes,” she clarified.

Madison? Christ. In that case, I might just be fucked, Michael thought, shaking his head slowly. He hadn’t realized the depth of the wounding he had done to her.

“So you did this on purpose, shrunk Michael and let him return here knowing Madison was here?” Lucie asked. “With her friends?”

Adelina grinned wickedly. “Of course, but even now, the memories fade from those little girls,” she answered, chuckling.

“Wait. Your catching him stealing from you on Friday wasn’t just a coincidence? You knew what he was up to the whole time?” she inquired, eyebrows raised.

“Please,” she scoffed, “I knew the boy has been pilfering flowers for a while, at best his efforts were clumsy,” she scoffed. “He was afforded the opportunity to avoid all of this and he chose not to,” she added.

“He didn’t know you were going to shrink him,” she countered.

“But you knew and you counseled him and still he could not see,” she reminded.

Frowning, Lucie eyed Adelina, “This woman from the Hearst office, Mirielle, was she somehow part of this grand design of yours?”

“Ah, she is the one variable that I had not accounted for, though it all seems to be flowing rather nicely,” she admitted, eyes looking up the stairs in the direction of the hall leading to the girl’s room.

“Nicely? You are aware Madison could kill them,” Lucie stated bluntly.

Adelina nodded, “She might, but so too through this challenge she may also find her inner self, the woman she was destined to become, it is out of my hands now,” she declared, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

Lucie shook her head. “So Michael was simply a means to an end?”

“No, should he discover what he needs to about himself, he stands to gain as much as Madison,” she explained, eyes sparkling. Lucie got the distinct impression there was still some more nefarious or broader subterfuge in her dedanya’s scheme, something else, maybe something for Lucie herself, another test. There were layers upon layer of complexity woven into everything her dedanya did and like Adelina’s present appearance, nothing was ever quite what it appeared to be. Lucie frowned

Adelina suddenly turned in Michael’s direction and for a second he thought maybe she had detected him peeking out from between the spindles at the base of the bannister five steps above the main floor of the house.

From above his location on the stairs, Michael heard the thunderous sound of massive feet coming quickly down the stairs, stopping on the stair practically right beside him. It was Madison. He glanced over at the large bare foot, almost close enough for him to touch.

“Michael is gone,” Madison announced.

Craning his neck, he looked up at his sister. She was wearing a pair of light colored short and a halter top, but he was too close to see over her body and chest to note the look on her face.

Must be finished with Mirielle. Swallowing hard, he held his breath, praying not to be noticed.

Stowaway

Adelina walked forward, ascending the stairs as Madison retreated back up. Lucie remained in the foyer, shaking her head.

Trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Michael remained pressed against the spindle, not daring to watch his sister and Adelina vanish upstairs.

Based on the tenor of the conversation between Adelina and Lucie, he figured his greatest hope resided with the girl. The great grandmother was orchestrating some type of lesson and he already knew Madison still harbored unresolved issues toward him. It had to be Lucie. Once Madison and Adelina were safely upstairs, he stepped out, hoping maybe to catch Lucie’s attention, but she was turned, her back to him, walking deeper into the interior of the house. He called out, but she was too far away to hear and her enormous strides carried her quickly away.

He had absolutely no idea how long Madison and Adelina would be upstairs, but he knew he could not remain secreted on the stairs for too much longer, figuring it would only be a matter of time before he was spotted, so he hurried to the edge of the stair, hanging down over the riser and dropping to the step below. Hustling, he repeated the process until he finally dropped onto the hardwood main floor.

Better be careful, don’t want to accidently get stepped on. Keeping close to the base of the staircase, he circled around to the side, sticking to the baseboard along the wall. Still suffering the after effects of being handled by the girls and Mirielle, his legs muscles burned and his chest was heaving.

“Lucie,” he heard Adelina’s voice call overhead, presumably from the top of the stairs. Half under the key table against the wall, he froze.

Suddenly the gigantic girl appeared, sweeping around the corner leading into the kitchen. Waving his little arms, he hollered and tried to get her attention but she passed by and was gone in just two steps.

She didn’t see me. Leaning forward he put his hands down just above shaky knees and tried to catch his breath. He could hear the sound of Lucie’s feet as the girl climbed the stairs.

So close. He shook his head, dragging his left forearm across his sweaty brow before straightening. How was he supposed to get her attention?

Shaking his head, he moved back toward the foyer, cautiously trying to see if he could see if he might catch a glimpse of the upstairs.

Darting across the open space of the floor, he found cover between some shoes near the bench by the front hall.

He couldn’t see any sign of movement from the hall at the top of the stairs, nor could he hear them talking. Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. It was a handbag, sitting on the floor near the other end of the bench. Was it the same handbag the fake Lucie had brought? He honestly couldn’t remember, but he didn’t think so. Was it Lucie’s? Or Adelina’s? Or Madison’s? He didn’t know. He could not recall ever seeing the bag before, so he felt confident he could rule out Madison as the owner. If it belonged to Lucie, it might be his ticket out of the house and possibly a step closer to being returned to normal. If. She seemed to strongly advocate his situation and push to have the curse removed. Adelina in Lucie’s guise said the curse was beyond the girl, but was it? Or just another deception? She had said it was in Madison’s hands now, did that mean trying to gain Lucie’s aid was futile?

He chuckled softly, “Nothing ventured,” he murmured, navigating between the shoes to get over to the handbag. The bag itself was normally fairly large, though positively massive to him. Made of soft supple leather, a shoulder strap affixed by two gold colored hoops hung down.

Do I climb in? He stood there a moment contemplating, figuring he could climb the strap to get up to the top of the bag.

Grinning to himself, he moved over and took hold of the strap, wrapping his legs around it, he pulled himself up hand over hand until he was able to get onto the top. He had just presumed the bag would be open, but it wasn’t. There was a long dark colored zipper there fastening the two side closed. Walking along the zipper, there was enough of a space at the end he thought he could wriggle through, though it looked like another fairly big drop into darkness within the purse.

Voices came from the top of the stairs, Madison and Lucie. Feeling very exposed, he panicked and lunged for the opening in the purse, squeezing through and toppling inside before bouncing off some of the contents within and coming to rest flat on his back on the floor of the bag. He lay there a moment catching the breath that had been knocked out of him. Sitting up, he squinted in the gloom, able to discern some of the things in shadowy interior of the bag through the opening overhead. There was a cell phone, a tube of lip gloss with a picture of a strawberry on the side, wallet, a package Kleenex tissues, a single serve packet containing a breath mint, car keys, small makeup compact, eyeliner pencil, a package of Trident chewing gum, and a number of loose coins. It didn’t seem to be the stuff maybe an old lady would necessarily keep in her purse and Lucie had said she drove out. The keys had to be hers, at least he certainly hoped so, because he doubted he would be able to scale back up and escape the bag.

With nothing to do but wait, his eyes drifted over to the mint, his stomach rumbled. He was hungry. Walking over, he picked up the package, the mint within larger than his head. Sitting down, he put the mint on his lap and pulled at the wrapper, freeing the prize within.

Lucie

When her dedanya had called, Lucie hurried to respond, going upstairs quickly, a little stab of fear in her heart that her worst suspicions would be realized and one of the little ones had been inadvertently killed, or worse deliberately so. Scaling the stairs, she paused at the top. “Where are you?” she inquired, looking in each direction not knowing which way led to Madison’s room.

“Down here child,” Adelina said.

Gliding down the hall, Lucie stopped at the door, peering into the room.

Madison held up a hand, “He could be anywhere in here, so be careful where you step,” she advised, eyes on the floor. “Michael?” she called, “Come on out now, we both know there is nowhere to hide,” she added.

Lucie looked to the floor, then to the bed where Mirielle, curled into small fetal ball, was lying on a pillow on her side facing away. The blankets and sheets had been stripped away and piled on top of the chair in the room. Adelina was sitting on the bed beside Mirielle, a fingertip on Mirielle’s calf. Thank goodness Lucie thought, noting the rise and fall of the tiny unconscious woman’s chest.

Madison got down on her hands and knees, head low to the ground as she scanned the floor.

“How did he get away from you?” Lucie asked.

Madison paused, sitting back up on her knees and shrugging. “I had him on the bed and didn’t think he could get down when Mirielle and I started our play, but somehow he did,” she said with a subtle nod.

Turning her head to the hall, “Could he have gotten out of the room?” Lucie asked before looking back at the blonde girl kneeling on the floor.

Madison chuckled, “Given what Mirielle and I shared and the time it took, it’s entirely possible,” she conceded, “but I don’t know.”

“Speaking of Mirielle,” Lucie said, eyes drifting to the small form of the nude woman on the pillow.

“Resting, she’ll be fine in a while,” Adelina interjected with a smile, patting the woman’s tiny calf.

Lucie nodded, she was glad her concerns were groundless.

“I think she understands,” Madison said, nodding to herself and then to Adelina.

Adelina cocked her head, “Is it your intent to release her from the curse?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Madison seemed to think about it a moment and then nodded.

Adelina nodded slowly, “after we have found your wayward brother then,” she said, nodding. Turning to Lucie, “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to lend Madison a hand finding him?” she asked.

Frowning, she shook her head and said, “I’ll help, on the condition I have some assurance the curse will be removed from him as well.”

Madison exchanged glances with Adelina then looked at Lucie, “I can’t make that guarantee,” she said plainly.

“I don’t necessarily mean right now, but I do wish to know that your intent is to see him eventually returned to normal,” Lucie clarified, frown lines deepening.

Madison shrugged. “A lot of different things could happen between then and now, so I don’t want to make a false promise to you to gain your support. What I do know is that, at the moment, he is running free, either somewhere in this room, or,” she paused, hands on her thighs, “somewhere else in the house.” A slow grin spread across her face. “Clever boy,” she remarked, nodding slowly.

“What?” Lucie asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He’s not in here. Tiny as he is, given the duration of our play,” she started, indicating Mirielle, “he still had plenty of time to get down from the bed and out of the room. He is somewhere else in the house. Now I’m pretty sure he’ll think I would think he went to his room which means he more than likely isn’t there either. Not the bathroom, too stark, not enough places to hide, which means he is either in dad’s room, or he might have tried to get downstairs,” she suggested.

“We were in the foyer downstairs, I didn’t see anything,” Lucie replied honestly, shaking her head.

Madison grinned, “But none of us were really looking for him though,” she countered, cocking her head slightly to the side.

Adelina said nothing, dark eyes gleaming with amusement at the situation unfolding in front of her

Seeing the look, “I see you are not helping,” Lucie said, frowning and nodding sharply at her dedanya.

Adelina looked to Madison, “Did you want me to assist you girl?” she queried, tone pleasant.

Madison looked at Adelina and frowned, “As much as I want Michael to be punished, I don’t want to see him fall prey to misadventure. If there is some way you can help locate him or get him to surrender himself, sure,” she replied.

Getting up from the bed, Adelian walked over to the Madison’s vanity, plucking out a picture of a tall mature looking blond woman.

“What are you doing?” Lucie asked.

Madison too watched, curious.

Holding the photograph of Madison’s mother in her hand, Adelina tapped it and smiled “I have an idea,” she offered, raising an eyebrow.

Tugging at the Heart Strings

Even as tired and as fatigued as he was, Michael remained on heightened alert, ears attuned to any unusual sound coming from beyond the tenuous security of the handbag.

There was a smell, a familiar odor in the air teasing his senses and Michael began salivating. It smelled like fresh baked cookies, just like his mother would sometimes make when he was a little boy.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, drawing the scent across the olfactory receptors in his nasal passage. That was exactly the smell of her cookies, the smell eliciting a handful of happy memories tucked away in the recesses of his subconscious mind, bringing him back to a time before all of the shit that ripped the family asunder happened. A smile touched his lips as the recollections continued to surface.

“Michael, honey, where are you son?” he heard a voice call again, causing him to snap out of his reverie. He knew that voice, but it left him feelings confused, perplexed. It belonged to his mother. It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be here now. She was in Europe somewhere burning through her divorce settlement with some boy toy not much older than him hanging off her arm. It couldn’t be, could it? He shook his head from side to side, almost violently. No. It had to be another one of Adelina’s gypsy tricks, a trap to bait him into revealing himself. The old gypsy had already shown them she could make herself look younger and imitate Lucie, why not his mother. Too much didn’t add up. First, why would she be here? That why made zero sense? Secondly, wouldn’t the fact alone that he was super tiny raise some alarms for her? In what world would that not be considered odd?

“Michael, please son, you’re scaring me,” he heard his mother’s voice say, fear bleeding through into the tone. “Where are you?”

Every instinctive fiber in his body wanted to rush out and take solace in her arms, but his mind knew better. She should not be here. Plus, after the divorce was finalized, there is no way in the world his father would have even allowed his mother into the house. No chance. To say the split was acrimonious would be an understatement. It had been ugly, messy and savage and no one got out unscathed, especially Madison and him. Nope. There was no way in the world his mother just happened by and offered to help find him.

The smell of fresh cookies continued to intensify, tantalizing his nostrils, they smelled so good and he was so hungry his stomach grumbled in response. When was the last time he had eaten? Mirielle’s?

He looked at the opening in the purse, the one he had fallen through. Could he climb back up? He desperately wanted to go to her.

“Michael, please son,” he heard his mother call again, repeating her plea, the fear in her voice put a lump in his throat and made him feel like he was a bad child. Immediately he started to scale up the interior of the purse, trying to get up and out, but slipping and falling back down and landing on his back. What am I doing? Seated on his ass, he shook his head and slapped his own face with his left hand, using the blow to remind himself it was a trick, Adelina playing with his mind. Using her powers to cloud his reason and impair his judgment. Her strategy and tactics were so convincing, so compelling.

He heard the sounds of footsteps approaching. Curling himself into a tight ball, he tried to make himself small and as innocuous as possible.

“Don’t you think this masquerade isn’t a little brutal?” he heard Lucie’s voice protest, the sound coming very close to the bag.

“Brutal? You yourself pointed out that I wasn’t doing my part to assist. I’m just trying to help encourage the boy to reveal himself before something truly unfortunate happens,” explained his mother voice, much farther away. Top of the stairs?

“Do you not think some of what has already transpired will not leave some measure of lasting trauma to his psychological state?” Lucie asked.

His mother’s voice snorted. “So the boy got the opportunity to experience the heated affection of some very attractive young women,” she said nonchalantly, “where’s the lingering harm?”

“Affection? Is that what you call it? I think it was more like wanton lust those girls experienced intensified by the power of your curse,” Lucie countered.

There was the sound of his mother’s laughter. It sure sounded like her, the lilt, the cadence of the speech, it was a perfect match, giving him an eerie, uncanny feeling.

There was an exasperated noise, close still to the bag. The sudden movement of the bag took his feet out from under him, spilling him to the bottom of the bag as it moved. Spreading his arms and legs wide, he tried to protect himself. The zipper on the bag opened, bright light pouring in. His heart thundered in his chest as he dreaded to see whose face it would be to look in the bag as he rolled over to look up. It was Lucie. Her massive hand halfway into the bag when she saw him, her eyes blinking as she registered his presence.

“Maybe once the lady Mirielle has been fully restored to her prior self she can help you look for him?” she suggested, curling her fingers around the cell phone and removing the device from the bag.

Face looming back over the opening, Lucie looked down on him, touching her right index finger across her full lips to indicate silence.

Michael nodded eagerly, swallowing hard. Was this real Lucie, or another manifestation of Adelina’s magical ability? A reprieve or a cruel evisceration of hope? He didn’t know. A wry smile crossed his face. Not that it mattered much, trapped as he was in the inside of the bag. The only thing for him to do now was wait.

Getting Out of Dodge…in a Dodge

“Where are you going?” asked the voice of Michael’s mother.

The ground under Michael shifted as the bag was lifted into the air, the motion throwing him from his feet.

“I need to get some air,” he heard Lucie say.

He got the sense of motion and figured she must be walking, a pause, a click and he figured they were out through the front door. His heart soared, but was tempered by caution because he had been fooled before by the wiles and magic of Adelina.

Another pause, the sound of a car door and then he was stationary. There was the sound of the engine roaring to life, some music from the radio. He felt the car lurch as it was put into gear and for the next quarter hour he tried to envision where they were driving before the car stopped and was turned off.

When the bag opened again, Lucie reached in, picking him up and setting him down on the passenger seat of her car. “It’s okay now,” she soothed, smiling down at him, cerulean sky vibrant through the windows.

“Are you the real Lucie?” he asked, looking up at her, uncertain of her identity.

“I am,” she nodded, “but, I suppose if I wasn’t and wanted to trick you, I would probably tell you the same thing, so I guess that doesn’t help you much does it?” she answered with a pleasant smile.

He nodded and chuckled, though there was stab of fear in his gut that at any moment the lovely young woman hovering over him would transform into a wizened old crone.

“As far as I know, I am Lucie,” she assured, a glint in her eye.

“Okay,” he said, bowing his head. “Where are we?”

“A short ways from the house, I thought it wise to put some distance between you and those who are looking for you,” she replied.

“Mirielle?”

“I am under the impression she is soon to be restored if she hasn’t been already,” Lucie answered. “None the worse for wear, but perhaps enlightened by her experience with your sister.”

Michael nodded, “How does Adelina know Madison? I mean, they sure seem quite familiar with one another,” he said.

“When you sister entered puberty, she manifested some very strong latent abilities that caught the attention of my dedanya. Usually we are not permitted to train outside our clan, though this does not apply to her given her station,” Lucie tried to explain.

“So for years she has been learning what, like gypsy magic?” he asked.

Lucie chuckled, “It’s a little more involved and complex, but for the sake of argument, that analogy would suffice,” she replied.

“Jesus,” Michael murmured, trying to assemble random memory fragments into a cohesive order using this knowledge as a means of linking the bits and pieces together. He had been so caught up in his own bullshit, he had never noticed or even suspected anything was happening in her life. No clue.

“I can see the gears turning in your head,” Lucie said.

“Is she becoming a witch?” Michael asked.

Lucie seemed to consider a moment, “I guess in the broadest sense of the definition, that would be the direction she is heading in,” she answered.

“And you?” he queried softly, “Are you one too?”

She smiled and nodded slowly, “And me as well,” she answered.

“Why are you helping me then?” he asked.

Lucie frowned, “I think the whole situation involving you was staged and you were set up to test your sister,” she stated, “and, well, I think it’s wrong, so that’s why.”

“Can you undo the curse?” he asked softly.

She looked at him, mouth still tight and slowly shook her head, “I’m sorry, no,” she said sadly.

His heart dropped.

“It’s is just too complex and I don’t have the cipher,” she admitted glumly.

“Cipher?” he inquired, crestfallen.

“Like the key, or the one strand that will unravel the curse. Dedanya gave Madison the cipher for Mirielle’s hex, who, by now should be back to herself, but she herself holds the cipher for your curse,” she clarified.

“So I guess that’s it then?” he said with a chuckle of resignation.

Reaching out, she touched the side of his face with her finger, “For the time being I can keep you safe until I can convince her to undo this thing,” she said, offering him a warm smile.

“Won’t you get into trouble for defying her, because if that’s the case, I don’t want you to get punished on my account,” he stated.

Her smiled widened, “Perhaps there is some hope for you after all. I think the Michael of only a few days ago would not have been so noble as to be concerned about my well-being,” she said.

Suddenly overcome with emotion, Michael was on the verge of a breakdown, tears sliding shamelessly down his face. He didn’t care if she saw him cry.

“It’s okay,” she soothed empathetically, picking him up in her right hand and holding him close to her chest.

“Thank you,” he mumbled between sobs.

“Shh,” she said, petting him with her left hand.

“For everything,” he finished, sniffling.

Holding him there in her hand, so close, his tiny life existing at her whim, she felt it, felt the stir deep within herself. She knew it wasn’t him or anything he was consciously doing, it was the curse, trying to influence her, tease her into using him. It was so sweet, seductive, like a siren song calling to her most primal of senses. Shaking her head, she resolved herself, silencing the aching want, pushing it back into the recesses of her mind. Protecting him was not going to be easy with the lure of such tender promise, she would need to be perpetually on guard to prevent herself from succumbing to the lure.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking up at her through puffy red eyes.

Shaking her head, she returned to the moment, “Fine,” she said. “I’m fine.” She hasn’t realized how strong the pull. Was she fine? How long could she deny herself?

Where to From Here?

Lucie’s cell phone sprang to life, the ringtone sounding like the evil empire from those space movies. The sound caused Michael to start.

“It’s okay,” chuckled Lucie, shifting him into her left hand and fishing in her bag with her right. Tapping the little green phone shaped icon, she brought the device to the side of her head.

“Luciana, where have you gone child?” asked Adelina, voice now sounding like the younger version of herself rather than Michael’s mother.

“I told you I wanted no part in your little manhunt and needed some air,” replied Lucie, frowning and shaking her head.

“Well if you’re going to sulk, you’re not of much use to me at the moment. You might as well return to the city,” she suggested.

Lucie looked at Michael, “Um, what about the boy?” she inquired.

Adelina chuckled, “What indeed?” she asked. “I am sure he is quite safe wherever he may be.”

“No, I’m just wondering,” she tried to clarify.

“Just go home, I’ll call you if I need you,” she instructed.

“Mirielle?”

“Now that there is an understanding between us, we are taking the time to become better acquainted,” Adelina said.

“Is she herself again?”

That was Madison’s decision and thus has she made it so, enough of this banter child, go, enjoy the balance of this beautiful day before it slips away,” she urged, disconnecting the call.

Lucie stared at her phone, mouth pursed, brows furrowed. “She knows,” she said, a single shake of her head as she put the phone bag in her bag.

“What? What do you mean?” he asked, looking up at her.

“My dedanya knows I have you,” she said.

Panic prickled over his skin, “Oh no,” he murmured.

Suddenly Lucie chuckled, “This is one of her tests,” she said aloud, more to herself than to him, “Like Madison, like Mirielle. She is crafting some type of tapestry using people like interwoven threads to create a picture only she can see at present,” she surmised.

“But why?” he asked, trying to follow her verbal musings.

Lucie looked down at him, feeling the pull of his presence, the embers of a fire igniting deep inside her. “Dedanya has lived for a very long time, she is very wise, but she adheres to the old ways. She moves people about like pieces on a chess board. Am I pawn, or am I a queen? I don’t know what she is doing, but I do know you being here now is not providence, it is by design,” she explained.

“I’m pretty sure she didn’t see me,” he offered.

“She sees more than you or I can know. She knows you are with me, I am sure of it,” she said, nodding affirmatively.

“She called you Luciana, is that your full name?” he queried.

She smiled, “Lucie, for short. You are Michael, not Mike, or Mikey, or Mick?” she asked back.

“My parents have called me Michael for as long as I can remember,” he replied.

“You did very well to resist her charm when she took on the form of your mother,” Lucie commended.

“Instinctively I wanted to respond, and almost did, except I was sort of trapped in your bag,” he revealed. “What happened with your mother? I overheard you and your dedanya talking, I’m sorry if it’s too personal,” he said.

Lucie nodded. “My mother was a beautiful woman, but born with fire in her blood and it took her,” she said softly, “consumed her.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” he apologized.

“I don’t know if you understand how this curse upon you works,” she said, fixing her eyes on him. “While you are small, you possess a gravity, a magnetism far beyond your size, it teases all who come near, like your sister’s friends, it fans the flames of their desire, their hunger, chases reason from their minds,” she extrapolated.

“And your mother?”

“Developed a passion for making people small and using them as she would, for her pleasure, with no regard for the lives she was disrupting, taking,” she shared, eyes moving away from him.

He didn’t know what to say, what words might offer her solace. Crouching down, he sat in her palm, reaching down with his hand he caressed her.

She looked back at him and smiled. “I am finding greater depths to you than I had previously thought,” she said.

He smiled half off the side of his face, “That makes two of us. I feel like I am only beginning to get to know myself,” he stated.

“And I think that is the lesson dedanya designed for you,” Lucie offered.

“A great big part of me, well, there’s nothing great big about me now, but, boy do I wish I had listened to you on Friday,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not all of you?” she asked, angling her head to the side.

He shook his head slightly, “This, right here, right now, I don’t regret this,” he said with a warm smile.

She smiled back, reaching down with her right hand touching him lightly on top of his head.

“You are much kinder than the others,” he said.

“Do not think too badly of them, remember they were influenced by the curse,” she said.

He nodded and asked, “And you? Are you immune to it?”

She shook her head slowly, “No,” she replied, left eyebrow rising as she half smiled.

Standing back to his feet, he nodded slowly, “You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were beautiful,” he said, smile on his face.

“Thank you,” she replied.

“Would it be impolite to ask for a kiss?” he queried, shuffling from foot to foot, looking a little sheepish.

Raising her hand up near her face, she smiled.

Leaning forward, he placed his hands on her plump lower lips and brought his face in close, pressing his lips against her. Disengaging, he looked up at her, “Thank you,” he said again, expressing his gratitude genuinely.

Clearing her throat, “I think it is time for us to go,” she said, voice sounding a little raspy, as she lowered him back down toward the bag sitting on the passenger seat. Putting him inside, she paused and rested her forehead against the steering wheel, letting out her breath slowly as she composed herself. This sensation, this electric feeling crawling through her body is what dedanya had meant she didn’t understand. Chuckling softly, she leaned back and started the car.

Madison

Madison sat on the edge of her bed, hands folded neatly in her lap, looking at the door as Adelina stepped into the bedroom. The old gypsy was no longer wearing the guise of Helena Hearst, instead she appeared as her younger self

Seeing Adelina in the form of her mother, as she had appeared before the wreckage of the marriage had brought Madison a mixture of pleasure and shame. Pleasure, because she was instantly reminded of happy times in her life, and shame for the vindictive spiteful feelings she harbored for Michael and how she had treated him and the delight she experience from his suffering.

“You look pensive child,” Adelina said, coming into the room and sitting on the bed beside Madison.

Madison shrugged, “I don’t know, I just thought that after seeing Michael broken, I would somehow feel different, liberated from his misdeeds of the past,” she replied.

“But?” prompted Adelina, cocking her head to the side.

Madison smiled half-heartedly, “But I don’t. I wanted Michael to suffer, wanted him humiliated and brought low, and he was and now I just kind of feel empty, hollow, like the want was more important than the have,” she answered.

“So?”

“So, now I just want to find him and make sure he’s okay,” she provided.

Reaching out and patting Madison on the leg, Adelina chuckled, “Therein lies the moral of your lesson, the barrier that was blocking you from moving forward. For too long, have you externalized the woes in your life, dwelling on the past and letting them fester within your heart. Arrogant, brash, Michael was easy to blame, but ultimately, you hold the key to your own liberation. That is why you feel as you do,” Adelina explained.

It was true. She had loathe Michael, hated the way he belittled her, which is why she wanted him small and insignificant. She wanted him to feel helpless believing that would make her feel better, vindicated.

“You are free of your brother now,” Adelina said.

Turning her head, Madison narrowed her eyes, “I hope that doesn’t mean something truly bad has happened to him?” she stated before nibbling on her lower lip.

Adelina shrugged, but her eyes told another story, “His ultimate fate in this affair has yet to be determined, suffice to say it is out of your hands now,” she advised.

“Which means he is no longer here, translated, he is in Lucie’s care now, whether she knows it or not,” Madison concluded.

“Pretty and clever,” praised Adelina, squeezing the girl’s leg.

Mirielle appeared in the doorway, towel wrapped around her restored lean body, another swirled around the tangled of strawberry blonde hair on her head. “Am I interrupting?”

Adelina turned and smiled, “No, come in child, there is much for the three of us to discuss,” she said.

“Okay,” Mirielle said, stepping into the room.

“Come, sit,” Adelina said, patting the bed on the side opposite Madison.

Mirielle complied.

“You weren’t small for very long, but what did you learn?” Adelina inquired.

Mirielle grinned, “Aside from the fact that Madison has, and please forgive the vernacular, an amazing vagina, I gained a measure of appreciation and humility for being tiny,” she replied.

Nodding, Adelina chuckled. “So, why don’t you explain to me why you sought the ability to make people small,” she instructed.

Mirielle hesitated a moment, trying to phrase her answer. Chuckling, she shook her head, “Screw it, might as well be honest, I had planned to shrink her father,” nodding to Madison, “down and pack him around in my underpants while I took over his empire.”

“My dad?” Madison asked, arching an eyebrow.

Leaning forward, Mirielle nodded, “I just think he has lost touch with the business and that I could infuse new life into it, plus, I was feeling taken for granted, my talents wasted answering phones and fetching take out,” she admitted.

“Good, that’s good,” Adelina said.

“I don’t understand, how is that good?” Madison asked.

“She is sharing from a genuine location within her heart, showing us, she too seems to have garnered a benefit from small sized introspection.

“Why would you keep my father in your panties?” Madison asked.

Mirielle smiled, “Two reasons, I find the idea incredibly arousing, and second, to show him I am more than just another pretty face, though maybe that’s still part of the first reason,” she said, shrugging.

Madison scowled.

“Enough bickering girls,” Adelina interjected with a smile, the sparkle in her eyes indicated there was something else going on inside her head. “Now both of you know the Hearst Group of Companies is privately held by Mortimer Hearst, but what was his succession plan? He is an astute enough businessman to have prepared such a plan,” Adelina said.

“It was supposed to be Michael, but all of his hijinks forced Mortimer to reconsider and focus on developing Madison as his potential replacement,” Mirielle supplied.

“Right,” agreed Madison.

“So, how did the succession plan fit with your scheme to shrink Mortimer?” Adelina asked, looking at the near redhead.

“I didn’t want to completely remove him from the scene, so the plan had been to take him into seclusion where he could still be involved in the business process, only everything would be under my thumb,” Mirielle answered with a smile, “literally.”

“So you felt you could successfully navigate the company from behind the scenes, using Mortimer as the authority?” Adelina asked.

Mirielle nodded before removing the towel from her head and shaking her hair free.

“Very ambitious,” Madison said.

Mirielle smiled, sliding fingers through her still damp hair. “Perhaps your brother’s efforts were clouding my judgement,” she offered.

Adelina looked from Madison to Mirielle, then back, nodding and smiling to herself. “While I am not opposed to the idea of supplanting Mortimer, I feel now is not yet the time for you to assume that mantle,” turning back to Mirielle, “nor for you to usurp it,” she stated, pushing herself to stand.

Madison nodded, “Okay, so what happens now?” she inquired.

“Look for Michael?” Mirielle asked, arching an eyebrow.

“He’s with Lucie,” Madison provided.

Mirielle looked up at Adelina.

“For now we wait and see what my great granddaughter does,” she said, walking to the door before pausing to look back at the two women still seated on the bed. Smiling, she nodded and exited the room.

Temptation

Residing in a small house near the edge of the city with her dedanya, Lucie’s possessed a room at the back of the single story building. The structure, more cottage than house really, was surrounded on two side by thick rose bushes, the splashes of color giving the quaint dwelling almost a story book feel.

Pulling into the driveway with her small car, Lucie picked her bag up and went into the house. Inside she kicked off her shoes and went directly to her room where she set the bag down on her low dresser and fished Michael out.

Turning on the top of the short piece of furniture, Michael looked around the room. While the space was certainly cluttered by books and jars and other odd things, it was very neat and tidy. There was a pleasant earthy aroma hovering in the air.

“I’m not quite sure where I should keep you,” Lucie said, taking him in her hand and crossing over to the bed. Climbing up onto the high bed, she sat cross-legged and set him down on her right knee.

“I guess if your great grandmother knows you have me, there’s no real point in trying to find some clever hiding spot I suppose,” he said.

She nodded, “True enough, though you should stay in this room, there are things in the other room that would definitely be unhealthy for you,” she advised.

“Things?” he asked.

Placing her the fingers of left hand on her upper left thigh, she moved it like a spider rapidly down her leg toward Michael.

“A spider? You keep a giant freaking spider here in your house?” he asked, eyes round, “please tell me you’re kidding,” he added, shaking his head from side to side.

She held up three fingers on her right hand, “And scorpions, and snakes, amongst others,” she said, lowering he hand.

Michael shuddered, “Not a fan at full size let alone at this size,” he commented, scrunching up his face.

She chuckled. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

Rolling his eyes, he put his hands on his stomach, “I am absolutely starving,” he said with a half grin.

Picking him up off her knee, she set him on the bed and got off, “Wait here, I’ll see what we have,” she said, nodding and darting out the door.

Watching her leave, he shook his head, “Please nothing weird, please mothing weird,” he murmured under his breath once she had gone.

When she returned, she was carrying a small ceramic dish halfway between a plate and a bowl, like a saucer, with some small pieces of what appeared to be meat, orange cheese, and a small lump of something a muted yellow color. Climbing back onto the bed, she set the dish down beside him.

“What is that?” he asked, checking out the food on the plate, raising his eyebrows and pointing at the lump.

She grinned, “Mămăliga,” she said, “it’s good, very filling and nourishing,” she added, taking a small portion for herself and putting it into her mouth, smiling as she chewed it and swallowed.

His stomach rumbled. Getting down on his hands and knees, he pulled a little bit of each material forward and then sat back on his butt, alternating between the foods and eating with gusto. Although he hadn’t eaten very much off the plate, he was positively stuffed.

“You were hungry,” she commented, watching as he rubbed his stomach. “You ate so fast, I thought you might choke and I would have to give you a Heimlich maneuver,” she jested, crossing her arms under her breasts and miming the compression motion.

He chuckled, “I think I would probably get lost in your cleavage,” he replied, rising to his feet and pointing at her prodigious chest.

She shook her head and smiled.

“Thank you for the food, it was very good,” he said, nodding his head in appreciation.

“You are welcome,” she replied, taking the dish by the edge and lifting it off the bed. “Careful,” she warned, leaning to the side and putting the plate on the stand next to her bed before checking he was clear and sitting back down the motion small to her, but the transfer of energy through the mattress enough to take him off his feet. “Sorry,” she said, scooping him up in her hand and bringing him near her chest.

Waving a hand up at her, he grinned, “Assquake,” he said playfully.

She frowned, but her eyes still held mirth, “What are you implying?’ she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

Sitting up in her hand, he held up both of his, “Nothing,” he said defensively, “except maybe your bed is too soft,” he added.

“Alright,” she conceded, frown turning into a smile.

Getting to his feet, he moved to the edge of her hand, putting his arms out and embracing her chest. She was sure it was an innocent gesture of his gratitude for all she had done for him, however to her, it reignited a burning deep inside her. Although only one of his hands was touching her chest, the other was on her shirt over the hollow valley between her breasts, his tiny fingers like sparks to dry tinder. She could feel the flesh of her nipple respond, hardening inside the captivity of her brassiere. Her first instinct was to move him away, but he lay his head next to the hand touching her through the fabric.

Letting her breath out slowly, she allowed him to remain.

“You’re so warm,” he commented, disengaging and moving back a couple of paces toward the center of her hand.

“Are you cold?” she asked.

“A little,” he replied, smiling.

Tilting her hand, he leaned back into her palm as she brought him toward her breast, cupping her hand and pressing his entire body delicately against the rounded surface beneath her shirt.

Closing her eyes, she brought her other hand up and caressed her other breast, a soft sigh escaping her plump lips. It felt so good.

Adelina

Leaving Madison and Mirielle, Adelina needed to rest. The effort and exertion of using the curse and manipulating the laws of nature had seriously depleted her and left her on the verge of exhaustion. Taking up residence in Mortimer’s home office, she slumped into his large leather bound chair, reclining her head back against the rest. Reaching up, she removed the jewelry from around her neck, her appearance immediately aging, restoring her to her old and withered self.

She chuckled softly, flexing and curling her knobby arthritic fingers, the joints aching. More and more she used the necklace to stave of the ravages of advancing years, but the use of such enchantments required a cost and she was almost unable to keep her weary eyelids from drooping.

November 1940, Ion Antonescu the fascist ruler of Romania entered into an alliance with Nazi Germany. The Roma, gypsies, living in Romania at the time were considered beggars and thieves and a problem Adolf Eichmann said need to be solved.

She remembered the morning the German soldiers arrived in their transport trucks, the engines roaring as they pulled in around their camp, grey uniformed men brandishing machine guns and screaming orders in German. There was one among who seemed to walk with an air of authority, his uniform unlike the others, black with the bright red arm band. It was January 7, 1941.

In the morning she was a married mother with three children, eleven year Nadia, seven year Magda, and infant son Karel. She was dragged from her tent, her children too. She watched in horror as the soldiers threw her baby to the hard ground and stomped on his tiny body. Magda screamed and tried to run and was shot in the back of her pretty head by one man.

Adelina wailed in grief, silenced by the butt of a rifle to the side of her face. Lying face down in the furrows of frozen mud, she watched as the man in black approached where two soldiers were holding Nadia. Her golden haired child, her darling daughter just beginning to show the bloom of puberty. The man took her beautiful daughter’s face in his gloved hand and nodded, lecherous smile on his face. “Ja,” he said, looking at the soldiers,

She didn’t know the other words he spoke, but the two soldiers were dragging the girl to the car.

“Mama,” Nadia hollered, too small to fight against the men holding her, too weak to pull away.

Adelina mewled a weak protest, blood gurgling in her throat as she reached out for her girl. “She is my little one,” she cried out in her native tongue.

The man in black walked around pointing at certain people, many elders and the majority of men including her husband Dragomir. They were lined up. The sound of machine gun fire tore through the quiet countryside, over powering the wails and laments of those still be held. Her grandmother, mother and father lay dead on the ground, eyes going glassy. Dragomir, a half dozen bullets in his body crawled forward on hands and knees before a soldier shot him in the head.

“No,” she screamed, choked with emotion, tears blinding her vision.

This time the rifle that came down on the side of her head mercifully rendered her unconscious.

She awoke in the back of the transport truck with a dozen other women from her camp. Her clothing was torn and she was bleeding from between her legs as a result of being repeated raped. All of the other Roma men in the camp had been executed save for two boys, Iancu aged ten, Radu and eleven. Of Nadia there was no trace.

The ache in her heart was almost too much to bear and she surrendered to weeping, the other women trying to console her but suffering in their own grief.

Amidst the anguish, she felt rage and hate. “What kind of men would do such a thing to women and small children!” she spat vehemently at the two soldiers at the rear of the truck, one of whom had participated in the death of her tiny son.

One of the men laughed, the other sneered.

“Adelina,” said one of the other women, pulling the distraught woman close, “you are drabarni now, you must lead us,” she said voice bordering on a sob.

Sniffling Adelina, wiped a hand across her face. “Ask them where we are going Sofia,” she said, looking at one of the other woman in the truck.

The woman named Sofia nodded, “Where are you taking us?” she asked, speaking in German.

“See Fritz, this one at least has a civilized tongue?” chortled the man on the left looking to his companion before facing the woman. “To the train station,” he laughed.

She translated the response before inquiring “From there?”

The other man shrugged, “Buchenwald, Dachau maybe, does it matter?” he asked, fluttering his fingers miming the scattering of ashes to the wind.

“Tell him I will see him made small and helpless, and then I will do to him what he did to Karel,” she said through clenched teeth as she lowered her hands between her sticky thighs.

Sofia looked at Adelina and shook her head, “I-I,” she stammered.

“Tell him!” Adelina growled, bringing up a mixture of blood and semen in her hands and looking at it. There was no way for her to tell which of the soldiers had raped her and left his essence behind, but she didn’t care.

“You want some more Gypsy girl?” taunted Peter, reaching down and clutching his crotch.

Sofia nodded sharply, turning to the two soldiers, “She says she is going to kill you for what you have done, she is going to make you small and helpless and then she will kill you,” she said hurriedly.

The two soldiers looked at each other and laughed almost in unison. “Oh no Peter, she says the woman is going to kill us,” Fritz said, tone mocking and derisive.

“And how is it you plan to do that? What are you going to do? Hey?” Peter asked, still grinning as he looked at her.

Escape

Adelina began speaking sharply, intoning the ancient words, enunciating every syllable as she glared balefully at the two soldiers, hoping that at least one of them had left his semen behind in her so that the curse would bind to him. At least one of them.

The other women huddled close to one another, the air inside the back of the truck felt heavy, like an impending thunderstorm rolling in.

“What will you do?” Peter asked, clutching his crotch.

Adelina unleashed the curse.

The man named Peter began to cough and the truck veered sharply to the right.

Fritz laughed, at first, then two things occurred in rapid succession. First, he realized Peter was rapidly shrinking into his uniform and the truck went up the embankment alongside the road and flipped over onto its side before he could level his machine gun.

It turned out not only was Peter one of her assailants but so to was the driver of the truck.

Tossed about in the back of the overturned truck and before Fritz could respond, the women were on him, hands tearing away his weapon and digging into his flesh. Reaching out, Adelina seized Peter, now no more than six inches in size and still shrinking in her bloody right hand and brought him in front of her face.

Adelina could hear the sounds of feet rushing toward the rear of the truck from outside. She had no illusion of escaping German custody, but she knew she would have vengeance as she squeezed the tiny man in her hands, the sound of little bones breaking.

Seizing Peter’s MP38, Sofia aimed it at the rear of the truck, squeezing the trigger as the door nearest the ground opened and striking two set of legs with a volley of bullets. Men yelled out in pain. She kept firing until the clip was empty.

Grabbing the other gun, Maria rolled through the now open portal, firing off a burst. All of the women and the two boys scrambled out of the truck, seizing fallen weapons. In the hail of exchanged fire, three women and both boys were killed and a half dozen more soldiers before the surviving females fled downslope into the dense thickets of woods.

Running blindly, the little man now only three inches or so and like a broken rag doll in her hand, Adelina emerged from the trees near a precipitous drop overlooking a fast moving white crested river down below. She could hear the sound of more gunfire and soldiers crashing through the thick bush.

Without hesitation she launched herself over the cliff, the frothy water coming up to greet her as she crashed into the surface and was drawn down into its frigid depth. Breeching the surface, she struggled to catch a breath, the cold making it difficult. She could hear the tat-tat of gunfire over the roiling river as she was carried along in the swift current, buffeted against smooth rocks hidden just below the surface. Here and there as she was tossed around by the turbulent water, she caught sight of a flash of color from clothes worn by some of the other women.

When finally the water slowed, Adelina, limbs leaden, swam toward the shore opposite the one she had entered, she could see Sofia fighting to do the same. She saw Maria’s lifeless body drift by and then another, and another, caught now in the lazy current and being carried downstream.

Sputtering, she spit up some water.

“We must go,” urged Sofia, tugging at Adelina’s dress.

“We should wait for any others,” she said, looking back to the river.

Sofia shook her head, “There are no others, only us now,” she said, “come.”

Adelina nodded, lifting her hand to look at the tiny figure still held tight. He was alive, barely. Following Sofia, she ran into the trees, the winter weather and the wet freezing her to the marrow, but she did not stop.

Together they ran until they stumbled across the ruins of an abandoned monastery. Taking shelter from the bitter cold, the found refuge inside the stone structure down in the underground crypt.

“We need to make a fire,” Sofia said through chattering teeth.

Adelina nodded, “Gather what you can that might burn, I can start a fire,” she said, body surrendering to shivering.

Sofia returned rapidly, bearing an armful of small pieces of wood from broken furniture. Setting them down on the ground, she looked at Adelina.

Setting the little figure inside the bodice of her dress, Adelina rubbed her hands together before cupping them near her face and whispering into them. A flash of orange sprang to life as she opened them to reveal a small flame burning there.

Lowering her hands, the flame danced over her fingers and moved onto the small pile of wood, igniting it, illuminating the subterranean chamber, tendrils of smoke climbing up toward the ceiling.

Moving in close to the small fire, Sofia extended her white blanched hands, body shaking.

Reaching into her dress, Adelina pulled out the tiny unconscious figure, holding him in her trembling hand and bringing him close to the fire.

“You should crush him beneath your foot,” Sofia said, glaring at the tiny naked man, “like they did to Karel.”

Adelina smiled coldly, “No. I need something from him first,” she said, shaking her hand slightly trying to rouse the man.

His eyes fluttered open. Clutching shattered ribs he tried to get closer to the warmth.

“Who was that soldier in black who took my daughter?” she demanded.

Sofia repeated the question in German.

He shook his head, his whole body trembling, “Nein,” he said, gasping.

“Tell me!” she demanded, curling her fingers around his body.

He cried out and then said something in German.

“He says he will tell you only if you promise not to step on him or crush him in your hand,” Sofia said, frowning.

Adelina smiled and nodded, “I promise,” she said, cold eyes on the man in her hand.

“Sturmbannführer Klaus Hertz is his name,” stated the miniature man, blood foaming at his lips.

“Good,” she said, nodding, a cruel smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

“Das gut?” he asked.

Adelina smiled, picking the little man up by a foot and lifting him up near her face. Opening her mouth, she extended her tongue, bringing him near.

Still nursing his ribs, he tried futilely to twist in her grasp.

Lifting her chin, she held him over her open mouth and dropped him in, lips closing behind him as she used her tongue to move him to the back of her throat. When he was in position, she swallowed, feeling his little body move down her esophagus. As per Roma custom, she had held her end of the bargain by not stepping on him crushing the life out of him.

Sofia smiled and nodded.

As the night closed in on January 7, 1941, Adelina was now orphaned widow, mother of maybe only one. She decided she would make it her mission to find her Nadia, whatever the cost. It wouldn’t be until after the war she discovered the man she was so desperately pursuing, Klaus Wilhelm Hertz, had survived the conflict and fled Germany like so many villainous others, using spoils of war to finance his flight and set himself up in a new place. When finally the information she doggedly sought came to her ears, telling her the former SS officer, now officially branded a war criminal, was last seen in Belgium destined for Canada, accompanied by a young golden haired toddler said to be his son. Reports indicated Hertz had lost his accent and was travelling under a more anglicized name, Nicholas William Hearst. Of a blonde girl who would now be fifteen, there was no mention.

Lucie

Lucie could feel Michael moving beneath her fingers and although muted, she felt him through the material of her shirt and bra.

Lifting him away from her chest, she pulled down the front of her dress and bra with it, spilling free her large almost perfect young alabaster breasts, wine stained nipples tight and erect. Bring him in close, she held him against the tender soft skin under her right nipple. She wasn’t quite sure if it was contact with his cool little body that made her suck in a sharp breathe or the fact it felt like his body was little live electric current dancing across the surface of her skin and giving her goose bumps. Whichever the cause, the sensation was incredibly arousing.

The feeling of her smooth skin across his tiny body was a delight, the pale flesh holding the scent of some body spray or lotion. She was decidedly much gentler than any of the others had been, less urgent, less demanding. He found himself growing aroused.

“Goodness,” she commented, feeling his excitement and drawing him back away from her skin.

He grinned sheepishly, “Sorry,” he mumbled, a little embarrassed.

She smiled and shook her head slightly, “It’s alright,” she reassured, feeling herself growing dewy. She had actually never been with a man before, not counting the time she had gotten ‘felt up’ by Cory Wilson in the front seat of his father’s Buick. That date did not end particularly well. This was different. He was so small, so fragile and right now his entire existence was in the palm of her hand. The sense of power over him was heady. She wasn’t entirely sure what the other girls had done to him or with him, but he did seem to be very responsive to her.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

Grinning, she nodded, bringing him up close to her mouth before closing her eyes and puckering her lush lips.

Taking her supple bottom lip between his hands, Michael leaned in and kissed her.

Pulling her head back just slightly, she parted her lips a little and extended the tip of her tongue. Standing on his tip toes, he opened his mouth kissed her tongue, caressing it with his own small appendage.

Pushing him onto to his back, she kissed him on his head, then his chest, tongue flicking out and licking him.

Giggling, he twisted in her hand, putting his hands up to try and fend off her playful assault.

Laughing herself, she moved in and swept his entire body with a long lick, soaking him from his feet to his head in one broad swath, and feeling him under the tactile nerves of her tongue. The sensation was amazing, his excited little body responding to her touch but more importantly her body responding to him. She could feel her heart accelerating, as blood moved about within her in preparation for what was to come. The ache of need flared inside her, like an insatiable thirst demanding to be quenched.

Shaking her head, she moved her trembling hand to the side and set him down on the table beside her bed, the effort to restrain herself from plunging him into her requiring all of her resources. “No,” she denied heatedly, shaking her head slowly.

Her stood there a moment, “I want you to,” he said, looking up at her and nodding his head.

Getting up from the bed, she turned to face him directly, removing her dress and bra before leaning down and sliding her panties off. Standing upright, she spread her hands out to the side, feeling a little odd about being naked in front of him, she had never put herself on display like this before and she was a little self-conscious

Michael smiled appreciatively. She was very gorgeous, body equipped with decadent curves in all the right places. He could tell she was excited. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

The compliment put a smile on her face as she reached out and took him carefully in her hand, curling her fingers around him while she climbed into bed and reclined back against the pillows stacked in front of the headboard. Placing him atop the swell of her right breast, she looked down at him, not quite certain how to proceed.

He did. Moving down the slope toward the center of her chest, he slid over her ribcage and onto her stomach. Feeling him, watching him sent a shiver of anticipation through her as he passed by her navel and crossed over the smooth taut skin of her tummy to get near her privates. Moving through the trimmed thatch of dark pubic hair, he sat down, back to her, legs to either side of the retracted hood above her sensitive pleasure center. Bending forward, he brought his down on her clit, the tips of his fingers feathery soft over her heated and swollen flesh. She caught a moan in her throat, the simple touch seeming to ignite her soul as she curtailed the urge to thrust her hips upward.

Parting her legs wider, she reached down with hand now shaking with raw sexual energy and parted the petals of her femininity to reveal the vibrant slick pink of her inner folds.

Moving his hands over her sensitive clit, kneading the tight skin, massaging it, undaunted by the wave of heat emanating from beneath him.

Her body ached for him, to take him and feel him inside her.

Turning to his side, he moved down, sliding through the wet furrow in her steamy pussy, lapping away at her copious juice flowing freely from her body.

Leaning forward, he pushed his arms into the snug little orifice of her vagina, hands meeting resistance there. She was still a virgin, hymen intact.

She gasped and suddenly brought her legs together, pinning him in place and crying out in ecstasy, body releasing a lifetime of pent up sexual energy as she came.

Almost lost in the bliss of release, mind only distantly aware of the tiny youth trapped at the epicenter of all of her contractions, enduring the force of each convulsion as release tore through her flesh.

The force of her legs coming together shunted him directly against the softness of her climaxing pussy. The sensations, the feeling, the smell was all too much for him and he lost control of himself, experiencing his own release synchronous to hers.

When it was over, she separated her legs, and leaned forward to find him reclining now in the hollow space just beneath her pudenda, face ruddy but spilt from ear to ear by a huge grin.

“Are you okay?” she asked, voice still with a slight quaver.

He nodded, sitting up and wiping some of her expulsion from his face.

 At once she knew she must have him again.

Adelina

After the harrowing escape from the soldiers, Adelina’s first impulse was to try and track Nadia and her abductor down but Sofia counseled otherwise. Sofia agreed Nadia needed her mother, but said the Roma people needed her more, needed her guidance and help as the German war machine ground them under heel and scattered them like leaves to the wind. Finding others who had somehow managed to either escape or elude capture, she developed a small Partisan group designed to impede German war efforts. As the war progressed, her forces joined other resistance movements and became part of what was known as the Underground. As such, in summer of 1944, weeks before King Michael’s Coup where Romania switched allegiances in the war from Axis to Allies, three allied airmen who had escaped from Stalag Luft VII Bankau came into her care. The Underground had helped others flee from German forces before and she thought little of the task. Meeting with the three flyers to discuss strategy, she found herself suddenly smitten by a young RAF Flight Lieutenant named Andrew George.

She had hardly expected such a thing, especially from the dashing young man nearly a decade her junior but something in him ignited dormant feelings in her. Although their affair was brief, his time with her only a span of three days, it was torrid and passionate. She invited him to stay and help with resistance efforts but he cited duty and a need to return to his own country.

When the war had officially ended in May 1945 with the defeat of the Nazi regime, but there was still much to do in the aftermath of the conflict. Plus, Adelina was now once again a mother to a beautiful daughter she named Anna Sophia as a result of her tryst with the aviator.

During the immediate post war chaos, she received information through Underground sources of a man matching Hertz’s description in Belgium travelling with a young male toddler and she knew he had somehow slipped through the net designed to catch war criminals. With a newborn infant of her own to care for, she was unable to investigate the matter personally so she dispatched two men and Sofia to make efforts to track down the man now travelling as Nicholas Hearst. Gifted in the way, Sofia was able to trace the man to a borough of Toronto. When the trio attempted to capture the man, something went awry and Sofia and both men were killed, while Hearst slipped away and the trail went ice cold.

While this defeat seemed to put Hertz out of her reach, Adelina never relinquished hope of finding Nadia, but with millions dead and a continent torn asunder, finding one little girl seemed impossible. Doing what she could, she assisted her people while the powers of the world divided up the spoils of war leaving Romania under the communist rule of Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej. Living life under the new regime was not particularly easy for the Roma. Forced relocations and prohibitions against Romani culture and language. Surviving purges and declaration labelling her people as enemies of the state. In other parts of Europe, others were being forcibly sterilized.

Time passed, Anna Sophia grew to womanhood and soon had a husband of her own, though he was killed before the birth of their daughter Teodora, born with fiery red hair, disposition, and blood to match.

Existence under Ceausescu was no easier for Adelina, economic hardships made worse by the austerity steps.

Thousands died in the December 1989 revolution in Romania including Anna Sophia, leaving Adelina alone with thirteen year old Teodora who was beginning to manifest abilities rivalling her own and the very distinct decision to use them.

While the persecution continued, Teodora became more and more rebellious and flagrant in the use of her power. Adelina knew she had to get the girl out and away from Romania but it wouldn’t be for another handful of years before opportunity presented itself.

Fortune seemed to smile upon the now eighty-two year old Adelina when the country of Canada loosened travel restrictions and was granting entry to Romani people.

In 1997, making her way to Prague in the Czech Republic with a now gravid Teodora, Adelina was able to secure passage to Canada due to the lifting of visa restrictions.

Arriving in Halifax, Nova Scotia they were soon sent off to Hamilton, Ontario before being relocated to Boian, Alberta. It was here the Hearst name came back into her life quite by happenstance when Teodora, with her recently born infant daughter Luciana, spotted a tabloid magazine on a rack at the local grocery sensationalizing the birth of a son to business mogul Mortimer Hearst and his celebrity wife Helena. Simply because of the name, Teodora purchased it and brought it home to show Adelina.

The moment Adelina saw the picture of Mortimer, she recognized those eyes, eyes she had last seen in Romania in 1941.

Finding the Hearst history took some effort. The Hearst family name rose to prominence in 1949 with Nicholas Hearst and strong ties to oil in Oklahoma. Nicholas was very prosperous until failing health forced him to relinquish control to his son Edward Grayson Hearst. The younger Hearst took the business to all new heights, diversifying and branching out, continually strengthening the Hearst name until his untimely demise in a plane crash, leaving the now global business giant in the hands of young business prodigy Mortimer Hearst.

While the Hearst news rekindled the icy desire for revenge in Adelina, who had never been able to find out what had become of her lost daughter, she had her hands full with trying to contain Teodora who was becoming more and more reckless with her power and now fueled with a desire to bring the Hearst fortune to ruin.

Not that Adelina necessarily disagreed with the notion, she was more inclined to approach the situation tactically, strategically rather than impulsively.

It would take more than a decade for Adelina to procure the means of her revenge. In the intervening time, she found she could no longer trust Teodora with the power and being unable to strip her of her abilities, she placed a slumbering curse on her own grandchild not unlike those told of in children’s stories.

Gathering all of her possessions, including her 11 year old great granddaughter, Adelina relocated to the outskirts of the city where Heart headquartered their offices.

She remembered the day she climbed the first step leading up to Hearst Plaza with the intent of bringing Mortimer and his family to despair, each step drawing her closer to bittersweet vengeance. A score of paces from the main doors to the Heart building, she saw little ten year old Madison Hearst emerge through the glass doors being pulled along, practically dragged by a woman she immediately recognized to be the child’s mother, Helena. There were descriptions of the girl in the news, but no images and seeing her now in the flesh dropped Adelina to her knees, burying her face in her hands as she wept, for the beautiful child was the spitting image of Nadia. It was a moment of epiphany for her and she saw clearly now how things must have been. The monster who had wrought so much havoc and pain in her life had sired a child with Nadia, continuing her very own bloodline. Eyes bleary and red from tears, she looked up again at the beatific girl, their eyes locked a moment and the girl smiled, then seeing the tears, looked crestfallen. Even at the distance, Adelina could feel the surge of incredible power coursing through the young girl who she knew with no uncertain doubt she was blood of her blood.

Lucie

Scooping Michael up off the bed from between her thighs, and brought him up near her face. As he neared, she could smell her own scent coming off his glistening flesh.

Using his hands he push against her lips trying to part them. Realizing what he was doing, Lucie opened her mouth and Michael climbed in over her teeth. Closing her mouth, she held him inside while he turned over on her tongue. Resisting the urge to swallow, she found it exhilarating, the combination of flavors moving across her taste buds.

Snaking a hand down between her still slick thighs, she touched herself, rolling lazy circles through the delicate flesh. His movements within her mouth were erratic and at first she thought maybe he was having some issue breathing but when the movements continued after she parted her lips slightly, she realized he was masturbating whilst lying on her tongue. The thought of him doing that while she was playing with herself was decadent and provided her with a heightened sense of urgency. She felt his little body jerk and then she crossed the threshold of no return. Pressing him firmly against the roof of her mouth, she came, a groan of delight escaping her throat.

After several moments, she removed him from her mouth and grinned at him and lay him on her naked bosom.

“That was nice,” he murmured, rolling onto his side and gazing up at her face.

She giggled and nodded.

Turning his head, he looked around her room, “You live out here? Just you and your dedanya?” he inquired.

“Sort of, well, my mother is here too,” she answered.

Michael frowned, “Forgive me, I had thought there was some issue with your mother?” he queried.

“It is very complicated,” she murmured.

“Because of what she did to little people?” he asked.

She nodded slowly.

“She would people small and play with them like we just did and when she was done, she would consume them alive in the final act of taking everything she could from them,” Lucie admitted.

Shaking his head, he was unsure of what to say, finding the notion very frightening.

“The pull of the curse is very strong, you felt that with your sister’s friends, it sings to me now,” she stated, “but I resist.”

“She gave into it?”

“Come, let’s get you cleaned up and I need to pee,” she said, collecting him. Climbing off the bed, she moved to the bathroom where she turned on the water in the sink and sat down on the toilet.

Testing the water, he moved forward and washed himself, running fingers through his matted hair.

Finished, she wiped and flushed before appearing over the edge of the sink. Putting her hands under the water, she washed them and took him out, setting him on the counter near the sink.

Drying himself off on a sheet of Kleenex from the box next to him, he looked at her as she dried her hands on the small towel hanging from the bar attached to the wall opposite the sink.

“You said your mother was here, sort of?” he queried, a little nervous from Lucie’s description of her and the fact she might be close.

“I need to get dressed and then I can show you,” she said.

He nodded.

She did get dressed and then paused to look at him. Grinning, she went to her sewing chest and pulled out a small square of dark colored material, cutting a small hole in its center big enough for him to get his head through. She also cut a small strand of slender green ribbon. Walking over, she held out the cloth.

Pushing his head through the hole, the material draped down over him very much like a poncho.

“Arms up,” she said, looping the ribbon about his waist and tying it like a sash. “That should keep you warm for now,” she added, satisfied smile at her handiwork.

Looking down at himself, he grinned, “Very stylish, kind of like a Snuggie,” he commented, lifting his arms and spreading the material out.

“Not really sure what we can do for your feet though,” she said, pointing at his bare feet and shaking her head.

He shrugged, “Should be okay,” he assured.

“Would you like to meet my mother?” she inquired.

“I think so, but should I be scared?” he asked.

She chuckled, “No, it will be fine,” she assured, a serious look passing over her face, “should be.”

Michael’s eyebrows rose.

“I’m just messing with you, you’ll see,” she said, making a small laugh at his look of alarm.

Picking Michael up in her hand, she carried through to another room in the house. He found it quite unusual the interior dimension of the house seemed much bigger than the exterior, but given his diminutive view of the world, he figure it was probably just him. 

Opening the door, Lucie clicked on the overhead light, spilling warm yellow light over the room.

Situated atop a single bed was a woman garbed in an elegant dark red dress, hands folded serenely across her lower stomach. Long deep dark red hair with a slight wave to it framed an exquisitely beautiful face, skin so pale it was nearly white.

“Oh my god, she is absolutely beautiful,” he commented, looking at the form of the motionless woman.

Lucie nodded.

“What was her name?” Michael asked, ton respectful. “Is she still alive?”

Smiling, Lucie nodded, “Her name is Teodora and she is not dead, just in a very deep sleep,” she said, moving closer and reaching out to stroke her mother’s  hair with her free hand.

Michael nodded, recollecting the exchange between Adelina and Lucie and the proclivities of Teodora. “She looks so young,” he commented, looking over her smooth unblemished features.

Again Lucie nodded, “She was just twenty-six when dedanya cast the spell on her and she hasn’t aged a day since,” she explained.

Looking down on the woman lying there a shudder passed through Michael’s body wondering how many people fell victim to her indulgence before she was put to rest. “No chance she might come awake?” he queried with a sideling glance.

“No,” she replied, stroking the pale cheek with the back of her fingers.

“Kind of eerie,” he murmured.

She nodded, a sorrowful look on her face.

Adelina

There was a soft but insistent knocking coming from the door, stirring the aged woman out of her reverie. Grumbling under her breath, she leaned forward, looping the necklace back over her head, the years melting off her.

“Come in,” she said, settling back into the chair.

Madison popped her head into the room, “Is everything okay?” she inquired, smiling.

Adelina nodded and smiled in return, “Of course dear,” she replied.

“Can we talk?” she queried.

“Certainly,” Adelina answered, pointing to the vacant chesterfield along the wall.

Entering the room properly, Madison walked over to the couch and sat down, curling her legs up under her.

“What would you like to discuss?” asked the old woman now looking youthful again.

“Your plan,” Madison replied directly.

Adelina nodded, “Alright what would you like to know?”

“Everything,” she said.

Adelina shook her head, “Not yet, there are still some pieces in play that have yet to settle themselves, but soon,” she replied.

Madison frowned, the expression marring her beautiful face.

“I need to return to the city,” Adelina said, pushing herself up to standing.

“Do you want me to drive you?” she asked.

Shaking her head, “Mirielle can take me,” she advised.

“You’re going to see my father. What do you plan to do with him?” she questioned.

Adelina chuckled, “I honestly don’t know,” she said wistfully, shrugging her shoulders.

Within a quarter of an hour, Mirielle at the wheel of Madison’s car, Adelina was headed into the city.

“Where to?” asked the strawberry blonde.

“The Hearst building,” she replied.

Rather than make inquiry, Mirielle nodded and began driving. She was kind of nervous, uncertain about the nature of the drive and whether or not she would be shrunk again, so she proceeded in silence. Being Sunday afternoon, traffic was fairly light and they made good time. Arriving at the plaza, Mirielle pulled into the designated space and parked the car before looking over at Adelina. It was eerie actually watching the transformation, seeing the woman feature morph and change, hair lightening. The only thing that remained unaltered was the necklace around her neck, other than that, for all intents and purposes, Madison was now sitting in the car.

Turning to Mirielle, the Madison doppleganger smiled, “Yes?” she asked, voice a perfect imitation of the girl.

Letting out a slow breath, Mirielle nodded before chuckling nervously, “No offense, that is very creepy,” she said.

Getting out of the car, Adelina did not reply, instead crossing the plaza to the building bearing the Hearst name.

Riding the elevator up to the floor where Mortimer’s office was located, she stepped out, passing the reception desk and moving into the offices proper.

Mortimer was seated at his desk, head down.

“Father,” Adelina said, voice an exact duplicate of Mortimer’s only daughter.

Looking up from his desk, “Madison,” he said, an element of surprise in his voice, though his expression flashed only a glimmer of irritation. “What brings you here today?” he asked. “Is it your brother?”

The girl shook her head, blonde swishing. “No, Michael is not the issue, a small annoyance at best. I have come for some answers," she advised.

Lips pursing, “I am very business at the moment and I highly doubt whatever it is you seek necessitated you to come here on a Sunday afternoon to interrupt my work,” he responded sternly.

Looking around, she spread her arms, “This entire empire is founded on blood,” she accused.

Mortimer put his arms on the desk, tenting his fingers. “I’m not quite certain I follow you,” he said, voice dangerously calm, eyes narrowing.

Her face a mask of ire, she stormed over to the chair in front of his desk and sat down, eyes locked on his, “Klaus Hertz,” she bluntly stated.

Leaning back in his chair, the older man stared hard at the girl, “I’m not sure where you heard that name,” he replied.

“It doesn’t matter,” she spat, leaning forward, elbows on her knees.

“Was it the care home? Has the old man been talking again?” he demanded.

Surprised, she shook her head, “What?”

His brow furled, then he started to laugh, “You didn’t know. You came here with only a name,” he said, bringing his hands together. “Very well played,” he congratulated.

“He still lives?” she breathed, daring not to hope.

Mortimer nodded, “Your great grandfather Nicholas Hearst is still very much alive, though of late his mind has been beginning to slip, his memories failing,” he said.

“You knew?”

“Of course I knew, I had to continue his work. Your grandfather missed it so he needed to be removed, but I continue it and when I am through this will be yours. Michael lacks the capability, the discipline. He is too much like your ignorant mother,” he impugned.

“His work?”

Looking at the screen, he saved his work, “This conversation is occurring sooner than I expected. Your great grandfather was on a mission, directly from the Fuhrer himself. All of this, all that we have achieved is designed to fulfill those orders,” he stated, self-assured smile on his lean face.

“What?”

“Foolish girl, Klaus Hertz belonged to the Ahnenerbe, one of twelve SS knights inducted into the order at Wewelsburg, tasked with deciphering the Ghent Altarpiece and tracking down the Arma Christi. When his health failed, my father was supposed to take up the mantle, but he considered it nonsense and turned away. You will be my successor in this quest,” he indicated.

“Where is he now?” she said, voice low, feeling her blood turn cold.

“Klaus?” he chuckled, “He is at the Alsace Care Home here in the city,” he replied.

“I want to see him,” she voiced.

Checking his watch, Mortimer nodded, “I suppose it could be arranged. You have no idea how pleased I am you are embracing your destiny. With his deteriorating condition, I think it is very important you spend some time with him,” he said proudly.

Picking up the desk phone, he made two phone calls, one to the care home, the other to have his limo prepared.

The Final Solution

Alsace was a state of the art home with all of the luxuries and amenities money could buy. Once there, Mortimer and Adelina entered into the front of the building, stopping at reception.

“Mr. Hearst,” greeted the woman behind the desk, pleasant smile on her face.

Mortimer nodded, placing his hand on Adelina’s shoulder, “My daughter Madison,” he stated.

“Is she to be granted access?” inquired the woman.

“Yes, I think it is important she get to know her great grandfather. How has he been?” he asked.

The woman shook her head, “He’s been moved to a more functional treatment bed. He seems fairly lucid most of the time, though more and more he resorts to speaking German,” she informed.

Same room?” he asked.

She nodded.

Adelina, still in the guise of Madison, followed Mortimer to the room. The door was opened, a small circle of pale light directly over the head of the bed itself, but with the curtains drawn, the rest of the room was fairly dark.

Klaus Wilhelm Hertz lay in a raised hospital bed, tubes connected to his frail arms. His face was gaunt, spectral, little more than waxen skin stretched over a skull. His teeth were yellow and the wisps of hair on his head were white. The gown he was wearing was a light blue.

“Grandfather, it is me Mortimer, and I’ve brought someone very special to meet you, your great granddaughter Madison,” he said, stepping into the room.

Rolling his age spotted pate in the direction, “Come forward,” he beckoned, motioning with his gnarled hand.

Stepping into the room, Adelina moved closer into the light. If not for his eyes, she doubted she would even have recognized the man who had visited so much destruction in her life.

He smiled up at her, “So beautiful,” he breathed, extending a hand toward her.

She smiled back, heart racing, so close. Taking his hand.

He immediately jerked his hand back, mouth falling open. “Nein!” he screamed while trying to push his withered body away from her, stopped from falling out of the bed by the elevated support bars at the side.

“Enough,” Mortimer said, perturbed, placing a hand on the distraught old man’s bony shoulder.

“Sie ist eine Hexe!” he yelled, rheumy eyes huge and filled with a mixture of anger and fright.

From the way he was behaving, she knew he could see passed the magic of the necklace and see her as she truly was.

“No,” Mortimer soothed, trying to calm the completely distraught man.

Reaching up, Adelina pulled a single from Mortimer’s head, mouthing the words to the curse.

Mortimer turned, frowning, “Madison?” he asked, voice slurring. Staggering backward, she guided him into a chair before walking back over to the bed.

“Geh raus!” he shrieked.

Walking back over, she shook her head slowly, “Do you remember me?” she spat.

He glared at her, eyes flicking over to the chair where his grandson had been but now only his clothes remained and then to her face, “If not the face, I know what you are,” he declared.

“What did you do to my baby girl, my Nadia?” she demanded, pulling the blanket away from him.

He rolled his head from side to side, eyes narrowing, “Ah, now I know you,” he answered.

“Nadia!” she repeated, pressing her hands down on his shoulders. “She was just a child when you took her from me!” she snarled, face filled with fury.

“I will do you this courtesy only because I choose, she had to be sacrificed for the sake of the baby,” he whispered, “she died the day Edward was born.”

 Leaning her head back, a wracking sound much like a sob escaped her lips, filled with breaking emotion.

He tried to grab her arm and push her away but his fragile aged body was too enfeebled and weakened to fight her off.

Bringing her head forward again, tears rolling down her face, “I want you to know what is going to happen before you die,” she hissed.

“I am prepared to die,” he snapped back.

“Look!” she instructed, pointing to the chair where Mortimer had been. His eyes darted over in that direction.

“I have shrunk him and he will spent the remainder of whatever days he has left a slave. Your great grandson is also shrunk and at the mercy of another. All that you have wrought will fall into the care of my great great granddaughter and your mission will come to an end, a bitter disappointing failure,” she raged, eyes flashing with triumph.

“No,” he said.

“All this time you were seeking power, and all this time it was right there, under your boot heel,” she laughed before tearing at his flimsy gown, she pulled the garment away, exposing a sunken chest decorated with old faded runic tattoos and mystical symbols.

“I am protected,” he stated.

“No,” she replied, grinning down. These pathetic attempts mean nothing to me,” she answered, placing her hand in the center of his chest, she channeled the power of the curse, driving the energy into the old man. She wanted him to feel it, to feel his body shriveling away.

Staring up at her, his fierce eyes remained impassive as he shrank in on himself, until he was under her hand. Curling her fingers around him, she walked over to the chair, finding Mortimer tiny form in amongst the now oversized clothes.

Clutching Mortimer in her other hand, she held her hands side by side, making sure Klaus could see Mortimer.

“Now you will die, I will take every last thing from your little body. I want you to suffer,” she seethed.

“I have lived much longer than I should have, I go now to join my brethren, do as you will,” he stated calmly, closing his eyes.

Licking her lips, still the soft and supple appearing lips of young and beautiful Madison, she raised the former SS officer over her head, mouth opening.

Klaus remained silent as he was dropped into the open maw, and turned around. He did not yell or scream when she swallowed him down.

Aftermath

Mirielle wasn’t sure what the old lady was planning, but she figured it was probably best if she just stayed put. When the long black limousine pulled into the parking lot near Madison’s car and Madison or her twin climbed out, Mirielle frowned.

Walking over to the car, Adelina opened the door and climbed inside the passenger seat, “I have something for you,” she said, extending a hand to show the diminutive form of Mortimer Hearst lying unconscious in her palm.

Mirielle looked at the tiny man and then to the girl. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” she said, speaking truthfully.

“Take him,” she said, “he is essence yours. The company belongs now to Madison with you to assist her. You will need him to help guide you in the interim.”

Reaching out, Mirielle took the slender little man between her fingers, rolling him about, a grin on her face. “Um,” she said, looking back, “And the catch is?” she inquired, certain there would be some type of price and wanting to make sure she understood before she accepted Mortimer.

“He is yours to do with as you please once his usefulness has come to an end,” she advised, “until then, he may be of some value as the leadership within Hearst shifts.”

Nodding to herself, a slow smile crossed her lips as she placed the man into the safety of her brassiere, she started the engine.

“Seat belt,” she reminded.

Fastening the belt, “We need to pick up Lucie and Michael before we return out to the Hearst home,” she advised, sharing the street address.

Not recognizing the street name, Mirielle mapped the information through the app on her phone, finding simple directions to the location. Destination locked in, set the car in motion. “Everything go okay?” she asked. “You were gone for quite a while.”

The form of Madison faded, muting and leaving only the tired bent form of an old looking woman, “I am weary beyond measure,” she said, voice so soft it was barely more than a whisper.

At the cottage, they collected Lucie, Michael cradled in her cupped hands as they drove out to the house.

“Have you decided what it is you will do with him?” Adelina asked, without bothering to look back at Lucie.

Looking at the tiny life in her hands, she knew what she wanted. “I have learned many new things this day, but I would see him restored,” she replied, a determined cast to her expression.

The old woman smiled and nodded. “It is done then, the curse has been amended. He will sleep for a while and when next he awakens, he will be himself once more,” she stated.

Pulling into the drive, Mirielle parked the car, circling around to assist the old woman out of the vehicle.

Madison appeared at the door, greeting them upon their arrival before leading all the others toward the large sitting room on the main floor.

“It is finally done,” Adelina said, leaning on Madison to walk.

“What?” inquired the blonde haired girl, arm looped under Adelina’s.

“What I set out to do,” she replied.

“You didn’t tell what it was you were going to do,” she reminded, looking over to the strawberry blonde.

Mirielle shrugged, “All I did was drive,” she said, shaking her head.

“Your father’s business is now yours to run,” she stated.

“What of my father?” Madison asked, eyes wide.

“He has been removed from his position and will now only act in an advisory capacity assisting Mirielle while you assume your rightful position as the head of the company.”

“What of Michael?” Madison asked, looking at Lucie’s hands

“He shall be restored come tomorrow, though you and Lucie will have the power to reassert its influence should he resort to his former ways,” she said with a dry chuckle.

“Why did you teach me?” Madison asked, shifting sideways to allow Adelina to get into the room.          

“You are my great great granddaughter through your father,” she said, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s cheek.

“I don’t understand,” Madison replied, shaking her pretty head.

Lucie too frowned. “We are related?” she inquired, looking down at the slumbering youth in her hands.

“Distantly,” she replied. Turning back to Madison, “Help me to the chair,” she said, moving slowly. “There is a chest under my bed in the cottage, you two must now study the things you find there. I can no longer walk the road with you, but you shall have each other,” she stated, sitting down.

The two girls looked at one another, exchanging confused expressions.

Adelina let out a sigh, “I am with my family,” she whispered, folding her hands neatly in her lap, a smile of serenity on her face as she closed her eyes, chin dipping forward.

“When she returned to the car, she said she was really weary,” Mirielle said quietly, nodding.

“Dedanya?” Lucie asked, kneeling on the carpet beside the chair, shifting Michael into one hand first and placing the empty hand on the lathery skin of the old woman’s arm. There was no response. “I don’t think she’s breathing,” she said, a measure of alarm in her voice as she hastily brought her fingers up to the side of Adelina’s neck.

Madison bent down on the opposite side of the chair, hand over the old woman’s, fingers feeling for a radial pulse. Finding none, “I think she’s gone,” she said, eyes glistening.

Lucie nodded, her own eyes moistening.

Back in the tiny cottage at the edge of the city, Teodora’s brilliant green eyes opened.