As the armored convoy roared through the desert, Sana sighed a deeply satisfied sigh. Just 2 weeks ago, she was an entry level technician at a University lab, but now she was on an immensely important diplomatic trip that would both bring peace to her country but also greatly enhance her own personal power. Her middle eastern nation had been ravaged by a series of invasions, occupations, and civil wars for most of the 34-year-old woman’s life. She discreetly checked down her blouse and looked between her olive colored G-cup breasts. Fareed was still in there (where else was he going to go? Sana just liked the sight of her tiny boyfriend enveloped by her big soft tits, must’ve been paradise for him).  What about Najla, the young widow of her father-in-law? She looked down in her purse, containing no items but the woman and some tissues to conceal her. Najla smiled brightly and waved up at her. Good. She really adored her owner, Sana, and Sana loved it.

Sana’s daughter Malak had been born when Sana was just 16 years old. Sana had been a teenager (in an arranged marriage, of course). Her husband, scarcely older than her, had joined a militia and just weeks after marriage he’d been sent away, leaving her pregnant. He died before their daughter’s birth. It was difficult for women in Sana’s country to find work and Sana was sent to the household of her modestly wealthy father-in-law, Ibrahim, to live as a widow and give birth to her daughter, aged just 16. The wars continued to ravage the country, and one by one her late husband’s brothers were slain, in addition to a few of their cousins. Sana and her daughter became the only family Ibrahim had left, except for one nephew.

17 years on, Ibrahim received a grim diagnosis of a rare type of cancer. Preventative care was non-existent, even for the wealthy (why try and fix a problem you don’t know you have?). Sana was clearly a brilliant person, Ibrahim had slowly realized. She’d helped him effectively manage her father in-law’s business (particularly the challenging supply chain, security, and legal aspects in a war zone) and wealth better than he or any man could. Although conservative, he grew to respect her. She persuaded him to sponsor her to attend the national University, where her innate abilities gave her easy admission. She would work in a lab and try to find a cure.

After a few months of long hours, sneaking out supplies, constant complaints from her teenage daughter over the move, and resentment/stares from other students and researchers (the university was liberal enough to allow an occasional woman but only at the insistence of the western NATO occupiers of the capital city), Sana was well on her way to the cure. But she’d soon realize there were a few catches. She’d only been able to smuggle enough supplies to make 3  samples, and one of them would have to be used on a test subject. She’d only been allowed to test the treatment on a POW who appeared to be suffering from the same cancer that Ibrahim was. That was unethical, but typical in a country whipped up in the fervor of war.  She would also have little help, as the guard told her she would need to inject the prisoner herself. And the POW was violent. She was unhappy about this and very nervous, but what choice did she have? She knew the POW had requested treatment, so hopefully he’d be nice to her. He was also physically ill, so maybe she could fend off an attack. When she first saw the man, she was a little bit unnerved. He was perhaps a few years older than herself and had been a commander in the rival side of the civil war. She could see in his eyes he was a fanatic. Likewise, he seemed to take his imprisonment and illness well and was in great shape. She hadn’t been with a man for 18 years, since her husband went off to war. Like any feminine woman she was into commitment, and thought if a strong, resilient fanatic that could be the rubbed the right way….She had to put her horniness aside and try to test her sample. The prisoner was staring at her malevolently. She spoke quickly but firmly, “this is the potential cure you were promised. Please give me your arm”. He stared at her, then disgustedly said “they send me a woman?”. She said nothing, and he relented, sticking his arm through his prison bar and she injected him…..

She gasped. Within five seconds the prisoner was about 2 feet tall. He was opened mouthed, unable to speak (it was probably a good thing- she didn’t want to draw attention to this), within another 3 seconds she couldn’t even see him. His clothes shrunk with him. She slapped her own forehead, her big idea had been to shrink cancer cells/tumors, while not killing healthy tissue. But it turned out to shrink healthy tissue. A movement caught her eye, the little prisoner was attempting to run between the cell’s bars (between where he could now fit) in a direction away from Sana. She would need to study him, but she knew he couldn’t survive on his own at this size (being roughly half an inch tall). She scooped him up and looked in awe at the little man in her hands. He had been a military commander of effective death squads, someone who’s power she would look at with fear. Not anymore. She stuffed him in her purse. She doubted this would be noticed for a long time. The prison was understaffed and corrupt. It was not uncommon for prisoners to disappear.

She went back to her apartment. Her daughter was still at school. After she changed into more comfortable clothes, she scooped the man out of her purse and set him on the table. He looked up at her and then abruptly looked away. She crouched down so that her face was directly in front of him. “Hey, Colonel, I’m not going to hurt you” ….. “I’m not power-hungry like you”, she added. He still looked away. “You have no veil” he said through gritted teeth. She started at that, stood up to her full height,  but then stopped. ….Why should she care what this mite thought about her? She decided to tease him a little bit.  She grinned down at him malevolently “Do you like my hair?” she cooed, as she ran her hands through her curly and thick black hair. She added, “Maybe if this country wasn’t so prudish, there’d be a lot less angry and violent men”.  With that, the little man finally looked up at her. “You’d have less recruits” she added, and stuck out the tip of her tongue playfully and his face flushed red. “I’m a little warm right now, too…” and with that she slowly began to remove her shirt, giving him a great view of her brown midriff and  shapely G-Cup tits, with must’ve looked like mountains to him, barely contained by a white bra that contrasted nicely with her olive skin. He wasn’t looking away now. “My peace plan is two of these for every man in this country”….she said, grabbing her tits. “Let’s see if it works”. With that, she scooped up the man and careful stuffed him between her bra and her tit (it was very difficult, as she had trouble finding bras big enough). She felt him squirm for a little bit and felt his little dick poking into her. She let him squirm for a little bit, until she would have to leave to pick up her daughter. When the time was up, she scooped him out. She grinned down at him, her dark eyes full of pleasure. “What’s your name?” she asked. She forgot what his file had said. “Fareed” the little man said back.

For the next few days she had her gentle fun with Fareed, and he seemed to be warming to her. She didn’t want to have to experiment on him, whether that be to take his blood or something. But she did want to save her father-in-law. There had to be another way. She was struggling with this dilemma when she received a call from Ibrahim. It was not good news. Ibrahim wanted to arrange a marriage for her 17 year old daughter. He said he was going to die soon, and he wanted Malak to have protection; a male protector. He was tearful when he said although he wanted to leave his company to Sana, she’d have no recognized authority as a woman to run it. He’d be leaving it to his only surviving nephew, Mohammad. She understood she could not run his company and was empathetic to that, but she was firmly opposed to the plan of marrying off her daughter. She had no choice. She couldn’t allow this. She didn’t want her daughter married off at such a young age; she thought it was a backwards practice. She would have to explain to Ibrahim that she found a cure…. even if it meant shrinking him (although obviously she would conceal that part of it). Ibrahim was surprised, but he was willing to play it by ear. He said he’d give her treatment a few weeks, to see if he thought he would live. He wanted to start right away. Immediately after mosque on Friday, Sana was to return home and inject him.

She really had no choice, but Sana couldn’t help but fret about it. She was going to shrink down her father-in-law, the head of a large company. Would she have say he was dead? Islamic law said burials had to be very, very rapid. She could hopefully claim that he was buried and in the ground by the time anyone learned he had shrunk. But she’d be cut off from money to attend university (she was just left just enough to survive), and she’d keep Ibrahim like a pet. She could handle that, it would just be weird. Would he resent his son’s widow having a new romantic interest? Once again, a strong patriarch she looked up to would now be the size of a bug to her. Whenever she thought of his size, her worries seemed trivial. She had all the power. Deep down she knew it, and she liked it.

Her daughter was an unresolved issue, however. She didn’t want to shrink her daughter irreversibly, but she also didn’t want her to know what really happened to her grandfather. It was hard enough to hide Fareed from her daughter.  She decided, at least until things got under control, she would send her to a boarding school in the capital city. The girl protested. If only she knew what her grandfather had planned for her……

……

As Sana drove up the long driveway towards Ibrahim’s villa, she looked down at Fareed sitting in the drink holder of the car. He could tell she was stressed. “I just wanted to say, you’re doing the right thing. I know you want what’s best for your daughter. Don’t fret about it”. She smiled faintly but said nothing for a few moments until she parked the car. “I’m so worried, Fareed. I’m so full of tension. I’m going to have to relieve that”. He didn’t know what she meant. She picked him up and stuffed him in her purse as she grabbed her luggage and entered Ibrahim’s home. He was so sickly that he couldn’t even greet her, and she was instead greeted by his young wife, Najla. Sana did feel a little bit sorry for Najla, she was barely 20 years old and had been married of to a man 2.5x her age. It had all stemmed from the seemingly final overthrow of the country’s long-serving President Hamran, last year, which Ibrahim’s family had backed. Sana’s husband died fighting for his country and his President, and Ibrahim had turned coat very quickly when it was over. She didn’t like to think of it, but in her stressed out and emotional state, it made her blood boil. Najla was the daughter of a wealthy warlord in the now-ascendant rebel faction (there was a third faction, where Fareed came from, that were rebels too brutal to be formerly/publicly aligned with NATO). Najla greeted her warmly before expressing the graveness of Ibrahim’s situation, while Sana muttered that she would attend to him right away. She quickly scurried off to her bedroom and placed her bags on the bed, and then pulled Fareed out of her purse, and placed him on her dresser. Absentmindedly she flicked on the television. A breaking news banner flashed on the bottom of the screen, showing, for the first time in a year, live footage of President Hamran. He was speaking before a large contigent of troops. She listened intently. Apparently, the Russian air force was willing to provide direct cover for government forces, and with that backing Hamran was setting up a government in exile in the North of the country. He was promising to retake the capital and other things. The war was escalating, and it seemed to never end. But the planes did give her an idea, an idea that would both bring peace and further her own power. The thought of that power turned her on. Her big brown eyes stared at Fareed for a few moments, regarding him. Without warning, she dropped her pants and panties, baring her pussy. Her labia glistened and before Fareed could even comprehend what he was seeing, Sana shoved him headfirst into the hot damp cavern. As he slipped around, not even actively resisting, but trying to gain his bearings, she moaned with pleasure. She stuck her own finger in her pussy, seeking to move in around. In a few moments, she came trying not to scream. She quickly retrieved a thoroughly shocked Fareed. She felt powerful, with a former warlord shoved up her pussy. She could deal with her father-in-law and his wife, easily. She re-clothed herself and pulled her vial and syringe from her bag, filling it. She stuffed Fareed, still soaked in her juices, into her bra. She walked down the hall and entered Ibrahim and Najla’s bedroom, seeing Najla standing over a bedbound Ibrahim. She walked nonchalantly over to them. She removed the syringe and quickly shoved into Najla’s arm, and just like Fareed, she shrank within 7 seconds. She plucked up the girl and put her in her palm. Ibrahim rapidly sat up in bed, as if he was going to try and escape, but truth was he couldn’t. Not in this state.

……

She looked at Ibrahim. Bedbound and wide-eyed before him. “You see what I am capable of” she growled, gesturing to half-an-inch tall Najla in her hand. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me where your will is, and you’re going to leave me your company; everything you have. Then I’m going to shrink you down, and cure you. But if you don’t comply, I’ll shrink you down and end everything”. Ibrahim was shocked he could only mutter “why, woman?”. “I’ll tell you why. You dominated my life for years. For years I carried your company on my back, yet you took all the rewards. Now, you want to sell my daughter out from under me and deprive me what’s rightfully mine”. “But I can’t! You can’t run the company you won’t have legitimacy”. Sana just laughed and placed Najla gently on her former bedside table, while removing the syringe and the third and final vial of the shrinking medication. Ibrahim gasped before finally relenting “it’s in my office, third drawer on the left”. Sana scurried off to retrieve it, bringing it and a pen to Ibrahim he quickly signed. “Now call your lawyer”. In a matter of minutes, it was done. She was now his heir. Ibrahim breathed a little easier, but he should not have expected his power-tripping daughter-in-law to keep her word. Without warning, she rapidly thrust the filled syringe into Ibrahim’s arm, creating the familiar 7 second countdown to powerlessness.

…..

With Fareed still trapped in her g-cup tits (with him enjoying the sensual jiggling as she walked), and Ibrahim & Najla cupped in her hands, she made her way to the living room.  She placed Najla on the couch arm, as well as Fareed, removing him from her deep bust. But Ibrahim she left on the table. He was healthy now, cured of his cancer, but he was more vulnerable. He was silently outraged and stammered as his daughter in law removed her headscarf, followed by her shirt and bra, unveiling her massive brown G-cup boobs. They were the size of mountains to him, and Ibrahim could hardly guess their colossal weight. She leaned forward to him, their inconceivable masses swinging dangerously low near Ibrahim. “Do you like what you see?” she sneered at him. “It’s because of you and this broken society, that no man enjoyed these in all my 20s”. “Your own son didn’t even get to enjoy them, because you sent him to die, but then betrayed the very cause that he fought for. I will save this country and countless woman from living as widows like I did”. She paused and was deadly serious. “But you won’t be allowed to see it”. With that she leaned her chest and her pendulous massive utters over Ibrahim. He tried to run, but she was too fast. Her boobs spread as she pressed them into the table, popping and smearing her domineering former father-in-law into a red paste. She sighed, satisfied, and leaned back to sit down on the couch. She looked over at Najla and Fareed, smiled faintly and said: “I’ll clean you guys up; we’re all going to the Russian consulate”. 

Sergei Yurikov was an eminent statesman and very sensible man, although his appearance wouldn’t make you think that. He had lost an eye during the Soviet war in Afghanistan, and wore an eyepatch, making him look like a warrior. But he saw the conflict as pointless and harmful to his country (which collapsed just years later). It was a formative experience for him, as it was for President Butina. He’d become a chief adviser to the Russian President in foreign policy, and when the President found it necessary to intercede in a small Muslim country on Russia’s border, Yurikov was assigned to make sure the Russians wouldn’t get in too deep. He’d first had to oversee the evacuation of Russian forces from the rebel occupied capital city, setting up a new embassy/consulate in the government-in-exile’s stronghold in the North.

They feared that NATO was using rebels to funnel arms into Russia. Although they’d taken a more hands off approach (providing arms and financial aid to the embattled President Hamran, a longtime ally), he’d been toppled, and resistance crumbled. His allies in the business community had turned coat. But today he’d received good news, in a brilliant stroke of luck, one of those turncoats, Ibrahim Yusef, had died of cancer. It had been expected that Yusef would leave his company to his nephew, but at the last minute he’d left the firm to his widowed daughter-in-law. They knew little of this woman and her intentions or competence. To make matters worse, Ibrahim Yusef’s wife had died too. Something didn’t add up. He was intrigued when he received communication from her, that she had a proposal to end the conflict and restore Hamran to power quickly. He’d had the area around her scouted out, prior to sending an armored convoy to bring her to the consulate. They didn’t want an ambush to kill Russian soldiers (the Russian public was already uneasy about the conflict with just the air force involved, Yurikov didn’t want knowledge that ground forces were involved).

When Sana Yusef arrived, one of the first things he noticed was that she was a very attractive woman. Particularly, she had tits the size of someone’s head and rich black hair. She looked to be about 30. He was always professional and wasn’t going to show her any favor because of this, but he thought it might explain why her late father-in-law had….but he would soon learn he was wrong. They spoke through a trusted translator.

“Mrs. Yusef, a pleasure” he greeted her. “Ambassador Yurikov, an honor. I believe you will be greatly interested in what I have on offer”. Yurikov nodded as he took his seat. He wanted to gauge her motivations and views (he was an expert at reading people). “I was very saddened to hear of the death of your father-in-law. He was a g dbgreat ally his country until nearly the end”. She seemed completely unphased by his words, other than a slight brightening around her cheeks. Was she mad at his dig or was she mad at her father-in-law’s betrayal? He couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, it appeared she came with some form of honest intentions and wasn’t trying to deceive. “I appreciate that, ambassador” she said coolly. “I for one am not inclined to follow his example in dealing with the rebels. My husband died fighting for the true government, and with Russian help I believe I can put an end to this war”. She paused, herself trying to gauge Yurikov. “What if I were to tell there is a biological weapon which eliminates combatants ability for combat but does no lasting damage?”. Yurikov’s brow furrowed “like a minor virus?” She grinned. There was no easy way to break this. “Ambassador, I will ask you not to act too startled when I show you what I have”. He nodded again. With that she opened her purse, and pulled out something incomprehensible. In her palm, she held two tiny people, one man of about 35, and one woman of about 20. Both appeared to be in good physical condition other than their size, and did not seem daunted by the hugeness of everything around them. For the first time in a diplomatic negotiation, Yurikov was speechless. “My father-in-law tasked me with trying to find a cure for his cancer. And I found it, but it has a side-effect”. She tried to bring the conversation back a little. “I admire what your country is doing. Ibrahim was disposed of for his treachery. And I am now able to mass produce this shrinking drug through the resources of Ibrahim’s company. But I don’t have a distribution method”. Yurikov looked confused. “Let me back up” she said. “mass usage on the population of this country is paramount. I would like to be able to handle this country on my own terms. Russia has the added benefit of eliminating a threat on it’s border”. Yurikov finally repossessed himself. “I see what you are proposing, however fantastical it seems. But at the size of your subjects here, it would seem the country would not be able to be hidden satisfactorily from satellites”. She grinned again. And swiftly removed an item from her purse, without warning she swung forward and injected the object (which he recognized to be a syringe) into the translator’s arm. The translator rapidly shrank, but he shrank smaller than the two tiny people Sana held in her hand. The translator couldn’t even be seen! She removed a heavy-duty magnifying glass from her purse and handed it to Yurikov. He saw the translator crouched in fetal position. She spoke a few words in Russian. “He’s 1/528000 the size. That way I can fit the entire country on a 2 foot by 4 foot table. Now please fetch another translator”. Yurikov was terrified of this woman and immediately complied. She’d clearly rehearsed those words. He fetched another translator, a pretty blonde girl who looked barely out of college. When Yurikov returned to the room, he realized he couldn’t have her use the chair that the old translator had used. He was on it, somewhere…. As he rushed over to move it, he saw Sana shake her head vigorously. He awkwardly looked between her and the new translator and set the chair down. “Please, have a seat” he gestured to her. The girl appeared to be a volleyball player, with an typical of them. Yurikov winced as the girl sat down and saw Sana smirking at him. Sana smirked because this was a metaphor of what was to come. The older men replaced by younger women who just happened to be very hot and very big. “Let us continue” Sana opened. “We will just need Russia’s airforce to deploy these weapons from the sky. There are magnetic properties of these weapons, which can eliminate the debris into my care. I would like to move quite quickly, as soon as Hamran’s forces begin running into NATO forces. That way we can avoid World War 3. My logistics teams will reach out to yours and we can arrange transport of the weapons”. Yurikov, clearly nervous, stumbled over his next few sentences “of course. Of course. Our planes are at your disposal and just deliver your weapons to us whenever you see fit”. With this, Sana stood up. “Ambassador, a pleasure” and she extended her hand. Yurikov extended his, and she noticed his handshake was a bit limper than when he had greeted her. As the volleyball player girl rose to leave, Yurikov couldn’t help it. His inhibitions were gone. He reached out and grabbed her ass, the one that had just crushed the other translator moments ago. He pulled her in close to him and whispered, “please tell me why all the hot women are so crazy”.

“Mom, I just don’t understand why we have to leave now. The war has been raging forever, why is now any differen?.I was going to have a great 18th birthday party with my boyfriend” Sana’s 17-year old daughter Malak whined as she helped Sana pack. “All things will soon be clear. You’ll be able to see your friends” Sana said, pecking her daughter on her forehead. That was technically true, of course, but Sana didn’t feel like explaining to her daughter. It was better to have her see it with her own eyes.

They were moving to Tel Aviv, in neighboring Israel, where she could “collect” her former country’s citizens with ease in her new apartment. The substance and its magnetic addition only shrunk animal cell matter, and the magnets were only strong enough to collect organic material. So the people would be shrunk to 1/528000 their old height, transported to her coffee table, with nothing but what they had on their backs and in their hands. Now, if they had guns, of course, that would be an issue. But Sana would be lording over them from on high, she would be in control. If she wanted violence, she could kill all 20 million of them, if she wanted peace, there would be peace. Her mercy would make her adored she thought.

………

Not unlike many American soldiers, Lucas had joined the military for practical reasons. Not that he was actively opposed to it; he just was not gung-ho and not eager to see combat. He never thought that he would, joining the reserves. But when the United States and its brilliant president (sarcasm) wanted to intervene in a middle eastern country’s war; it was a full-out invasion. By the time Lucas was sent things had died down, but now the government in exile was returning with Russian airpower. Lucas was going to battle, although they were in a holding pattern, as diplomats scrambled to prevent direct conflict with the Russians. It was a very dangerous situation.

Lucas leaned up against a truck and lit a cigarette as he and his platoon could see war unfolding miles in front of them. In his left hand was his satellite phone; he was waiting orders. Lost in thoughts of their mortality, they saw the Russian planes advance beyond the frontline and towards them. They dove for cover underneath a vehicle.  Suddenly, they felt the world grow around them, before they could even comprehend this, a force began to pull them into the air, in an arc. Those who were inside vehicles, moved around corners and crevices until they fell out of some sort of hole in the vehicle, or smashed through glass. They movement was very rapid and disconcerting; he was hurling through the air at hundreds of miles per hour, but then they gradually slowed, and slowed, and slowed. One of the last things they saw was coming through a skylight and gently landing on a dirt surface. He looked around, all his platoon was still there, but no vehicles or supplies. A few of the soldiers who had held guns their hands still had them. It was as if only the people had been transported. And nothing else. After a few moments, they all saw her.

It was difficult to comprehend at first, at first he just noticed what looked like a brown horizon. But then he noticed slight little bumps on it- it reminded him of something. It was a woman’s leg- a shaved one. He looked to the left and the right and saw the gentle curve of calf muscles. Then they all saw the leg move, and more of the woman came into view, her skirt, her midriff, her blouse, her ginormous tits that would’ve been huge even if she was normal sized. Next came her thick, curly black hair, and finally her face and brown eyes, lording over them, regarding them intently. She spoke in a deafening and deep voice, although they could all hear the femininity in it. It was in Arabic. He couldn’t understand.

………

Sana was positively giddy with power, but she had to keep herself under control and remember her mission. “I command you all to lay down your weapons. You may regard the loss of property and power as your punishment for years of violence against your brothers and sisters….”. She let them absorb her words.  “Now, let’s be honest. It is mostly the men of the country causing this violence. And for that… I am a demonstration”. She paused and grinned down at them she slowly removed her shirt and bra, unveiling those massive orbs, about the size of a man’s head. They were perky and her nipples were just over the edges of the civilization. She leaned so that her massive tits dominated the civilization. “You might regard women as just a pair of tits. Well, always remember what a pair of tits can do. It can obliterate you and everything you know. It will make your pride over your little manhoods seem pathetic”. She chuckled as she re-covered herself. “Now, those are a privilege. There’s going to be a lot of hard work to rebuild, and if you do a good job, you’ll get to see them”.

……..

Lucas felt his dick grow hard as this sexy Arab woman dominated them all with her tits. ‘Best. War. Ever.’ He thought to himself.