I carefully walk through the half-open door of the classroom that Olivia managed to secure the keys to, and let out a grunt of exertion. "No, no," I grumble sarcastically, "don't get up. I'll just eat all this lovely food from Cosmic Taco myself, because since no one's helping it's obviously all mine."

"Shut the fuck up, Mia, and don't spill my iced tea," Nicole laughs, "and maybe- just maybe- I'll undo my shirt a couple of buttons." 

I sigh: maybe coming out when Nicole had been in the room had been a shitty idea. Now the mildly athletic electric blue-haired skater chick knew that whenever she wanted something, all she had to do was show a little skin and she'd have a perverted lesbian lapdog at her beck and call. Still, the idea turns me on a fair bit, and I shimmy past the whiteboard on the wall.

"So where the fuck is everybody else?" I ask, setting the assorted foodstuffs down on a few random desks pushed together as I try to change the subject. 

"Fuck if I know where Annabelle is, but Elizabeth and Lana went to the bathroom," she says, pawing through the bags to try to find her order, "and Olivia had to get something out of her car. You know, I just realized that Cosmic Taco serves damned near everything but tacos," she giggles offhandedly as she pulls a white box labeled "chili dog" and a mini-bag of fries from one of the nondescript brown paper bags. "Case in point."

I look through the six drink cups, checking for Nicole's iced tea: "This one has no ice, that's Olivia; ginger ale for Annabelle; this one's white, so it's definitely Elizabeth's horchata; that's MY Dr. Pepper; which leaves us with two. Your iced tea, and Lana's raspberry whatever."

"Mine has a lemon! A lemon, Mia- you dumb fuck!" Nicole suddenly yells.

"Sorry to say it, but these both have lemons, so unless you're willing to bite the bullet, I can't-" I begin to rant.

"No, dumbass, you erased some of Olivia's numbers!" She points at the whiteboard, where the bottom halves of four of the numbers in a circle are indeed missing, wiped clear by my ass as I had entered the room.

I quickly get up and fix several of them: "Alright, that's a seven, and a three, and this third one has to be a zero . . . and this other one is a five. There. Fixed," I puff up my chest proudly. 

"What's fixed?" Annabelle enters the room. Out of all the others, the blonde is closest to me in height, at 5'9". Still, at 6'4", I can and do still see over her head: at least, I do when I'm not admiring the figure of a girl who could easily stand in for Power Girl, bust size and all. However, admittedly she isn't . . . well . . . very bright. Neither am I when she's in the room, but hey.

"Mia accidentally erased some of the numbers Olivia had up with her ass," Nicole explains. "Don't know how, 'cause she doesn't have one, but at least it's fixed now."

Annabelle, however, stopped giving a shit even as she was asking the question, as there was now a "hashburger" (a specialty of Cosmic Taco, usually served a little after breakfast ends: one of their typically greasy-yet-delicious burgers made that much better with freshly-made hash browns between the patty and the bun) in front of her, so naturally she was digging in.

"I do too have an ass," I try to retort, but I'm immediately distracted by Nicole slowly, sensually eating each of her fries one by one. "That's just not fucking fair, Nicole," I whimper. 

"All's fair in making you my bitch," Nicole chuckles, having put the whole issue out of mind already.

We're nearly done eating by the time Elizabeth and Lana get back: They're the bassist and drummer for an on-campus band, respectively. Elizabeth is kinda stringy and dirty-looking, her black hair a wild crow's nest that her dull gray eyes kinda lazily peer from. Lana, by contrast, is very neat and tidy, her red hair maintained short and even then kept in a tiny ponytail.

"You should've told us you got back, Mia," Lana says, her Irish accent a genuine stand-out in a part of town that was generally either whitewashed or Latino. "We would have hurried back."

"Doesn't really matter all that much," Elizabeth shrugs, "we were in the bathroom. We couldn't have gone faster if we tried," she says as she's already sat down and begun stealing some of Lana's fries.

"You bitch," she growls as she takes her food and sits separately from the group.

Luckily, before an argument can start up, Olivia bursts in and starts adjusting a machine that is partially blocking the door, adding a new part into place. Olivia is, in a word, a geek: the short glasses-wearing brunette is just miles and miles ahead of us in terms of brains, and is always discussing something she's made, or a series she watched that is inspiring her to make something. "Ha!" She trumpets loudly. "All finished. Now to enter some numbers . . ." She checks the whiteboard and I sweat bullets for a second before she punches the digits in one by one. "Could've sworn there was a decimal point," she mutters, before turning to us.

"So what the fuck is this?" Nicole asks bluntly. And, as Olivia excitedly opens her mouth, she adds, "the abridged version, please."

"R-right," Olivia laughs. "In layman's terms, this is a laser beam that changes an object's size. And, here, I calculated the ideal test ratio, how much I could do without hurting anyone. Now, I'm going to need a test subject . . ."

". . . Mia, would you be so kind?" Olivia finishes her request, putting me right in the line of fire. Intense, piercing hazel eyes bore right into me, and I honestly swear that she can see right into my soul, even though she doesn't believe in them.

"Uh, sure, I guess . .  " I murmur, sitting on the edge of one of the tables, directly in front of the machine. "Hey, Olivia . . . hypothetical question," I say nervously, realizing that this might go to weird places fast if I changed the decimal place of a number on a shrink ray: Decimal places are what separate the ten dollars in my bank account with the thousand in a healthy one. "Say there was a decimal point in that number, but it got erased somehow. What would that mean for me?"

"Well," Olivia says, adjusting the device that looks increasingly like a swiveling gun turret that she's pointing at my face, "due to how this works, you shouldn't lose more than a few inches if my number is how I calculated it initially. But, if there was an error somewhere . . ." The brunette actually shudders, which is pretty damned terrifying. "You'd dwindle fast. Depending on where that point went missing, you could drop a foot, wind up child-sized, become basically a living doll, or even wind up positively microscopic. Good thing my numbers aren't wrong, huh?" She laughs, flipping on the machine before I get a chance to speak.

A mere instant later, I'm flat on my back and loudly groaning. Luckily the ceiling doesn't look too different, so I can't have lost too much of my height . . . or so I think, before Annebelle shrieks. Suddenly, flesh-colored tree trunks are wrapped around my torso, making breathing difficult even before I wind up with a face full of blue silk blouse. "Mia, you're so cute! I think I'm just gonna keep you!" I hear the blonde's voice above me as it resonates throughout my body. 

Suddenly, I hear Nicole laughing like a mad woman and Olivia making noises of confusion. "I don't understand it. I've never made a mathematical error before," she murmurs in disbelief. 

Meanwhile, Elizabeth is standing so close to Annebelle I can smell her sweat from her aggressive practicing. "Hey, mind if I hold her?" She asks, her voice soft and neutral as ever.

"Fuck off, Lizzie, she's mine," Annebelle pouts, squeezing me into her breast with enough force that I can no longer tell where my body ends and Annebelle's soft tit begins. Surprisingly, I'm kinda lightheaded but I'm not struggling for air yet, which is good for my health all things considered: were I struggling, Annebelle would be getting off to it, and I'd die this way.

"Not a bad way to go," I murmur wryly as Lana approaches.

"Mia doesn't belong to you, or any of us," the redhead reasons. "I say we show her to Olivia so she can run the numbers to bring her back to her skyscraper self. And honestly, Nicole," she admonishes the skater girl, "it's not that funny. How would you like bring four inches tall?"

Nicole only laughs harder at Lana's attempt at telling her off, and I can hear a distinct thud as she falls out of her seat.

With her other hand, Annebelle has reached inside her cleavage, and has fished out a single six-sided die. "We can let this decide."

"Yeah," Elizabeth says, snatching the die away. "Roll a six, she goes home with me, five is Lana, four's Nicole, three's Olivia, two's you, Annebelle, and if we get a 1 we just roll again because she can't be left alone while Olivia does her math and shit. Who knows what could happen to her like this, y'know?"

Nicole barely gets over her hysterics enough to say "I'm game" as Elizabeth finishes her sentence, and she struggles to stand. "I thought I was gonna piss myself, that was hilarious," she says, and I can see her grinning out of the corner of my eye.

"Sure, sure, whatever," Olivia murmurs, too shocked that there was any mistake with her math to honestly care what everyone else is saying. 

"Works for me," Annebelle giggles brightly, cradling me more softly against her breast to play with me. "Now, aren't you just the cutest little thing," she coos, smiling at my facial reaction to the bust that I could now easily be trapped within with very little effort.

"Well," Lana murmurs, "okay . . . but not as like a pet or anything. She's a friend, staying over for a while," she says firmly.

If I had it in me to speak in this moment I'd honestly be incredulous that they're making decisions like this without any of my say being taken into account, but at the moment I've been stunned into silence by three sexy titan's standing around me, and the knowledge that there are two more outside my field of view. 

"Then let's . . . roll," Elizabeth giggles, tossing the die across the little table I'd been sitting on. 

"A two. Fucking hell," Elizabeth murmurs, dissatisfied. 

"It's fate," Annebelle giggles, lifting me to her face. "You're mine for the night, Mia," she smiles brightly, "so don't be so down. I'll play with you, cute little Mia."

I flush a bright red, and don't manage to get a word out as Annebelle gleefully stuffs me down her shirt.

"Maybe . . . I can go over to your place?" Lana asks nervously. "Y'know . . . keep an eye on her," the redhead justifies.

"Oh no," Nicole butts in, "if Miss Prim and Proper gets to play with a four-inch lesbian, I'm coming over, too."

"All y'all can go fuck yourselves," Elizabeth says in her incredibly spot-on hick accent, "because I was going over to Annebelle's place before Mia got herself shrunk."

In my position in Annebelle's cleavage, I speak up: "As much as I'd rather not, she has a point. Tits McGee and Lady Pigpen over here did agree to try out Annebelle's new water bed."

"You only remember that because you pictured them fucking," Nicole says bluntly. 

"Doesn't make it any less true," I rebut. "Besides, the only one I actually need to be around is Olivia, so she can fix me," I point out.

"It's MY APARTMENT," Annebelle pouts, "can't I just play with my little pet by myself?"

"But waterbed," Elizabeth frowns.

"But Mia's our friend-" Lana tries to argue, before being cut off by Nicole. 

"But sleepover!" Nicole says angrily, still eyeing me.

"I should probably rectify my error," Olivia admits.

"STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT!" Annebelle yells, putting her hands over her face. "I wanna make my own decision, okay? Let's think . . ."

"Take all the time in the world," Nicole mutters sarcastically, trying to pressure Annebelle so she'll just cave.

Surely enough, poor Annebelle is flustered: As dumb as she knows she is, she still hates being left on a question because it just bothers her that much. "Stop, Nicole, I wanna try to think," she whines, tearing up a little. 

"We know it's difficult for you, but try," the skater chick adds wryly, prodding at the blonde's insecurities with laser precision.

Lana almost steps in, but Elizabeth holds her back. "Just chill, Red. You want an opportunity to be the hero? Make it any time but now."

"I do not-" Lana whispers angrily, before being silenced with a dull look from behind Elizabeth's rat's nest.

Meanwhile, Nicole is still working at Annebelle: "Maybe before the moon's out, dipshit?" She taunts, barbing Annebelle ever more.

Annebelle is now officially crying as she tries to think whether she should allow anyone to stay over. Meekly, and with very little intent behind her words, she says, "I don't let people who were mean to me in my apartment, Cole," she uses Nicole's nickname.

"Bullshit," Nicole coughs, referring to the abusive relationship Annebelle just got out of.

"Stop, Nicole, please," Annebelle continues to whine, still having not figured out that she can walk away.

Without warning, Annebelle runs down the hall, leaving everyone behind as she dashes out of the building to her car.

I'm jostled, bounced, and all in all smacked around by my blonde friend's massive breasts as she runs, unable to get my bearings. "An-na-belle!" I scream, trying to get her attention. "AN-NA-BELLE!" Over her crying and her heavy footfalls as she runs, however, it's really hard to be heard at my size.

Annabelle is still pouting and sniffling as she gets into her car, but as soon as her iPod plugged into the stereo system turns on, filling the car with the cheery, up-tempo strains of "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)", she starts to brighten up. By the end of the song, she's already forgotten her depression and is singing along.

"Uh . . . Annebelle?" I ask nervously once we're at a stoplight and that particular song is over.

"Oop," the blonde giggles, looking down into her cleavage to see my head poking up. "Almost forgot you were there, Mia! Don't distract the driver," she admonishes, "or I might crash! Just wait until I get home, and I'll play with you, okay?"

My mouth goes dry at the concept of Annebelle "playing" with me, but I maintain my cool. "Um . . . but shouldn't you have let Olivia get a look at me first, so she can fix me?"

"Shush," Annebelle says, pressing my head down into her cleavage with one finger, "don't you want to hang around my apartment with me? Climb all over me?" She giggles suggestively. 

I groan at being led around by my libido again, but quietly acquiesce and settle down. Eventually, after a rather long car ride, and some thankfully more gentle bouncing as she walks inside, I am set free and put down on a coffee table. From my perspective at Annebelle's knees, I'm unable to see her face past her bust . . . and with her skirt ruffled the way it is, it doesn't take much effort to look up it before she kneels down.

'So, Mia . . ." Annebelle says slowly, "I know you have a thing for all our friends . . ."

I gulp, having an idea where this is going.

"Now I won't be mad if you don't say me," Annebelle says, holding up a hand, "but I want to know: who do you wanna fuck most? Like, if we all got drunk and stupid, who would you take first?"

Nervously, I say, "C'mon, Annebelle . . . don't you think better of me?"

The blonde gives me a look. "You tried to learn CPR to have a chance to almost-kinda kiss a girl."

"I can't say I want an orgy?" I say, trying to dodge this very question. I'm honestly surprised Nicole has yet to think of it.

The blonde gives me a look.

I'm not sure what Annebelle will even attempt to do with this information, nor do I know myself the honest answer to that question. I've never really considered it, although I have had a major crush on all of my best friends for years.

"Nicole," I blurt, just kinda wanting something to say to Annebelle's question, "but not by much. I'd be lucky to get even a kiss from any of you guys, seriously-"

"You like it when she messes with you like that?" Annebelle frowns, confused. "If a guy kept teasing me like Nicole teases you, I swear I'd be tearing my hair out!"

"I'm . . . well . . . I'm a bit of a switch," I confess, blazing with a blush. "Sometimes I like it when a girl can dominate me, even if it's just with words, sometimes I like to be in the lead and imagine myself just fucking a girl senseless. As far as I know, Nicole is the only one who can do both."

"Nicole and Lana," Annebelle laughs. "She's, like, super bossy when things aren't all clean."

"Well yeah," I admit, "but with Lana she's almost like a mom. Clean up this, get that out of the way, organize that . . . but I've fantasized, to be honest."

"What about me?" Annebelle purrs. "What are your fantasies about me like?" She leans over me, her breasts resting on the coffee table so she can look me over. "I wanna know."

My eyes bulge a bit, and I'm sweating like crazy. "M-my fantasies a-about y-y-you?" I bite my lip, and tremble. "Are you sure-"

"If you're my good little pet now," she smirks suggestively, "I promise to follow through on whatever fantasy you tell me." Shrugging, she adds, "I kinda owe you. I was the one who made you come out, and made it so everyone can play with you. But I can't make you happy without knowing what makes you happy. 'Kay?"

My jaw absolutely drops. "Um . . . damn. Damn. I . . . fuck. Well," I laugh, running a hand through my hair, "not to put you down or anything, but I've never seen you as . . . y'know . . . dominant. So, usually when I let my imagination run away from me around you I . . . pretty much just have myself pushing you around, stomping on you, having you kiss my feet . . ."

It's finally Annebelle's turn to blush. "You . . . that . . . me?" She points at herself incredulously. "You get off to imagining me as your bitch?"

"Y-yeah," I confess with a nervous laugh. "That isn't . . . like . . . bad, is it?"

"Oh, god no," she giggles, "I've dealt with a lot worse for different guys. Honestly, I was worried you were one of the creepy ones. But having you be my Mistress? Almost sounds kinda fun. Plus, I'll be able to tell other guys I did kinky shit with a girl once."

I grin widely. "Alright then! So, you said you wanted me to be a cute pet for a little while?"

"Yep," Annebelle grins, "I always wanted a pet, but . . . fur allergy, and like no money even after I got out of my parents' house. So, act like my little kitten or puppy for the rest of tonight, and I'll be your bitch when you get back to normal."

Suddenly, her cell phone rings, and is at her ear in moments. 

"Yeah?" She asks quickly. "No, Lana, Mia's fine, I'm fine. Honestly, you're such a worrier. No, everything is okay, you don't need to come over." Annebelle sighs, and begins playing with her hair. "No, no, seriously- goddammit." She gives me a look. "Well, you don't get to stay at the foot of my bed tonight, 'cause everybody is coming over tomorrow morning to give me a wake-up call and check on you. Still . . ." Annebelle grins, kneeling down and lowering me to the floor, "I get all of tonight to play with you, Mia . . ."

As I glance up, up, up at the leg of a titanic being, over a hundred feet tall from my perspective, I don't feel much like a playful puppy. I feel pathetic, small, and slightly terrified- I feel like an insect. A bug waiting to be stamped out by the thin blue flip-flops Annebelle wears.