"Four hours?!" Justin shouted in exasperation. "Where the hell is she?!"

Justin's restless legs carried him hurriedly toward the bulky structure of a cell phone. Laying on its flat bottom, its longer end perpendicular to the mountainous wall mimicking the dull color of the ground beneath his feet, the phone came up to his mid-shin. A pale yellow post-it note stuck atop the communicator garnered his attention, much as it had the first fifteen times he had made this approach. Once again, he read the message written in girly cursive onto the up-curling paper.

Dearest Justin,

Here's my number. Like I told you before I left, call me if you want anything. I'll be home as soon as I can, so don't fret too much. Remember to be a good boy and follow the rules.

1-867-5308

Love,
Arrie

Arrie's name was surrounded by the faded imprint of two opulent lips dripping with rose.

A thin smile spread across Justin's face as he shook his head. He put the tall barrier adjacent to his target to his back, bending at the knees as his rough hands slipped themselves palms up into the slim crack separating two equal levels of gray. With his perfect positioning, he began to move into a standing position, pushing his arms skyward in an effort to relieve his calves of some of the pressure of the phone's weight. Stinky, salty liquid beaded down his sloped forehead and his biceps ached as his legs strained to straighten.

The top end of the cell phone opened slowly, Justin not once stopping to gauge his progress. That proved to be a mistake, for once it passed the mid-point of it's journey, the thick block of phone flung itself over, its momentum combined with his own strength shooting him over it with a forward somersault. As he landed, the back of his head crashed into its digital screen with enough force to crack it. The crackling of crumbling paper beneath the descending layer of plastic was raucous, yet vaguely noticeable to the dazed young man trying to regain his bearings. Standing up, he shrugged off his throbbing headache and stretched relief into his complaining muscles.

"Why didn't I get a razor?" Justin questioned in annoyance.

Stumbling a little, Justin wandered back to the bottom portion of the communication device. Gazing upon the damaged display opposite it, he saw ripples run through a picture of himself sitting with arms crossed triumphantly on the hood of a souped up, flaming red 1974 Dodge Charger, a blotch the size of his head obstructing his photographed copy's neck and lower face. The remaining eyes glared accusingly at him as he cringed an apology. Returning to the task at hand, he reached for the panel of the phone, ready to enter in Arrie's number into the machine. However, he stayed the pattern after depressing the seven button, instead pushing down the red cancel key.

She's just fuckin' with you again, man. Justin convinced himself. Don't let her see you sweat.

Justin leaned back against the towering wall of couch behind him, its tiny fibers itched his brown, exposed skin while his shoulder blades squirmed to find comfort. He tilted his head upward, puffing a deep, frustrated exhale into the quiet air. Bringing his chin down, he spied a plain white t-shirt bunched up with worn, ripped jeans laying in a far corner of the room.

At least she thought to grab my clothes.

His view continued to scope around the living room, until Justin's vision caught the bright lights of the television, which contradicted the darkness of the sunless sky seeping into the area through its only window. Tired of silence, he roamed the cushion to its ledge, where a black rectangular obelisk waited for him, its length pointed at the cinema-sized picture of the t.v. Studying the console of the remote control now in front of him, it didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. His hand lowered onto the rubber button marked mute, and the full weight of his arm soon followed. A cacophony of shrill voices and laugh tracks blared around the room.

Justin sat at the edge of the seat, his legs hanging over its rounded lip yards away from the beige carpet below. The program on the t.v., another sitcom cookie straight from the cutter, held his attention for but the briefest of moments. Glancing at a downward angle, he noticed a piece of paper rested on the coffee table before him. It was THAT piece of paper, the same one Arrie had printed from her computer that very morning. Faintly legible in the glow of the television, he reviewed the contents of the file.

The House Rules

The following rules and regulations are to be adhered to by those present in this apartment of a stature of eighteen inches or shorter.

Justin rolled his eyes upon reading the disclaimer. "Who knows, you might grow a bit." Justin mocked Arrie's voice.

1. Absolutely no questions!
2. Silverware and proper etiquette must be used at the dinner table at all times.
3. The floor is lava!!!
4. Bed time is promptly at nine o'clock P.M.
5. Don't forget to tell your hostess how beautiful she is.

A grimace was on Justin's face as he reread these rules. Still, a shit-eating grin replaced it as he recalled his involvement in the creation of rule number two the previous day.

--------------------------------------------------

Justin was tripped up as a pliable log of flesh and bone plowed into his right shin, the joints of the great digit curling possessively around its catch. Before he could register this entrapment, his left leg pumped from its landing into the next stride of his frantic sprint, resulting in his forward momentum carrying him into a swift declination, face first, toward the oaken counter top. Another length of living timber, this one acutely thicker than the first, slammed into both of his thighs, catching him in mid-fall. A third finger lumbered its base into Justin's muscular abdomen, knocking the wind out of him, while the pinky at his right shin scooped out to take in its left match, removing his feet from the ground and leaving him in a hovering embrace of feminine hooks. An index finger coiled around his chest area just as a burly thumb hugged his back beneath his shoulder blades, thus completing the set. The breast of a smooth, ductile palm contorted ever-so-slightly to his right side as he was pulled into it whilst the gripping fingers tightened their grasp securely, yet lightly, the ripples of prints tickling his uncovered skin all the while. Then, his stomach sank to his ankles.

As his snug, damp vehicle ascended, Justin's position was returned upright. His arms were free to flail, but he instead opted to lay his forearms on top of the thumb and pointer finger wrapped highest around his body. With insignificantly small fingers, he felt their silky membrane, rubbing and prodding the mass amount of pale epidermal material as his face expressed awe at such a novelty. His rise stopped, and Justin slowly, hesitantly tore his gaze from his lower portion's cell.

Arrie's lovely visage was zoomed in on Justin, contemplation overtaking its gorgeous features. Her fawning eyes, minus their spectacles, maintained a minute squint as they studied him intently. The point of her button-cute nose fluttered at little more than an arm's length away. The ends of her luscious red lips tugged down almost imperceptibly. Protruding from the left corner of her mouth was a long beam of silver attached to the frame of her glasses, which were held by her left hand well below Justin's assisted height. She seemed to be nibbling inquisitively on the fragmented section in her mouth. Tawny follicles swung toward either side of him, indicative of the leaning movement of her neck.

"You're pretty fast." Arrie complimented. "You must have cleared a good two feet before I caught you."

"Y-yeah." Justin answered.

There was a brief silence. Then, Arrie let out an exaggerated sigh.

"What am I going to do with you, Justin?" She interrogated. "You just can't seem to stop asking questions, can you?"

Nervousness crept up Justin's throat as he mustered his reply. "It slipped. I didn't even think about what I was saying. Honest!"

Another sigh escaped Arrie's lips, this one sounding much more sincere. A small smile formed on her pretty face.

"I'm such a softy." She paused. "Alright, I guess I can let it go."

Justin watched as Arrie put her glasses back in their proper place over the svelte bridge of her nose. Her head pulled back. He could feel the instinctive swing of her arm as she turned and walked toward the center of the room, despite the fact that she still held him, elbow bent, up by her glowing countenance. After a few steps, he found himself being lowered onto a circular dining table. The dainty fingers around him opened as his feet touched down on the lacy magnolia cloth adorning the table. Arrie sat in one of the two chairs surrounding plateau, keeping her posture perfect as she looked down at Justin.

"And yes," Arrie spoke matter-of-factly. "I do think that blond girl put something in your drink that shrank you. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"

We? Justin kept his query to himself.

"I don't know." He admitted. "Um, all of this is a lot to take in. I'd rather talk about something other than how short I am, or what I'm going to do about it, for a while, if you don't mind."

"I'd like that."

The two talked for hours. Justin told Arrie of his job in the local plastics factory, his lack of family save for a few cousins he never cared to keep track of; anything he could think of, really. In turn, he listened as she told him of her varying career path. A magician's assistant, a painter, a chef, a clerk in a costume shop: Many exotic stops were made during her employment history. She was between jobs at the moment, but thankfully had saved up enough money to last a while. The pair continued on with their casual conversation until Arrie volunteered to cook supper.

The meal took about a half-hour to prepare. The sizzling of olive oil partnered with the warm, crisp scent of frying flour drove Justin rabid with hunger as he waited on the table. He looked on as Arrie finished her cooking, placing the food onto a bland white plate and carrying his way. She set the china piece down next to him, and he spied a fulfilling sight; two plump chunks of chicken breast breaded in a dark golden coating and a pile of wavy mashed potatoes as high as his stomach and almost twice his width. Salivating, he climbed over the lip of the plate and moved toward the closest piece of meat, eager to sink his teeth into corpulent flesh. His attack was halted, however, as the meat came within arms' reach.

"Whoa!" Arrie's exclamation stopped Justin dead in his tracks. "What's all this then?".

"Wha-"

"You can't just eat that with your hands." Arrie interrupted her distraught guest. "What are you, some sort of savage?!"

"Yes." Justin resumed his assault.

"Well, you have to use silverware anyway, just like everybody else."

Justin's disbelieving stare was met by Arrie's reaffirming counter-stare. It was a solid thirty seconds before her viridian irises drifted away from the puny man on her plate and focused their glimmering pupils on something behind him. He swiveled his neck, peaking over his left shoulder. In the distance, a giant knife, fork, and spoon sat upon the rugged surface of a napkin. With a forlorn breath, he set out for the oversized tableware.

A low grunt of exertion escaped him as Justin hoisted the argent blade over his shoulder. It was awkward to carry, given the fact that the table knife stretched an inch longer than he was tall, but he compensated for this by shifting the object into a fireman's carry. He walked back onto the serving dish and towards the chicken, keeping his eyes low and away from Arrie.

Once he reached the steaming breast nearest him, Justin flipped the dining dagger over his shoulder, landing its sharpened end on the meat. He moved to the opposite end, taking the handle in both of his hands. Rotating the knife so that its teeth laid into the food, he pushed the cutter forward with every ounce of energy he had. The skin proved to be quite a hindrance, catching each ridge of the blade's slicing design. He stepped into the cut, managing to force an incision into the succulent poultry. Taking a second to wipe his brow, he then pulled back on the handgrip, taking care to put some downward pressure on it as well. The tearing pegs dragged arduously in reverse. Justin let out a frustrated groan as he struggled with what was once such a simple task.

Four repetitions and little progress later, Arrie decided to intervene.

"Let me have a crack at that." She demanded playfully.

Justin was casually brushed aside as Arrie took the knife handle in her right hand, causing him to stagger backward just a bit. While regaining his balance, his peripherals caught her left reaching for the abandoned fork back on the napkin. He gaped in wonderment as all four of the menacing spikes of the huge utensil plunged mercilessly into the edible bosom, a muffled clang announcing the completeness of the impalement. The knife moved into place next, resuming the position where Justin had held it. A lazy flick of Arrie's wrist drove the teeth of the blade deep into the soft flesh of the chicken; much deeper than he could have hoped to achieve in ten minutes time. A few more careless jerks, and a hunk of meat larger than his head separated itself from its body. The fork quickly exited the punctured bird, sinking its two central talons into the detached remnant. It rose with its quarry in tow, levitating directly before the salivating little man, just above forehead height at nearly a forty-five degree angle.

Justin wandered closer to the awaiting cure for his carnal ailing, his arms hastily protracting for it. Before his hands make contact, however, the sound of a massive throat clearing itself out rained down to his ear drums. Peering through the gaps between sterling spears, he didn't seem the least bit surprised to find Arrie's face greeting him, her faint brown eye brows raised expectantly. He raised his head and looked off to the side with an annoyed mien, then refocused his sights on her. His arms shot out to his sides, elbows still slightly bent and fingers extended in flashing fashion, shooting Arrie an exaggeratedly enthusiastic expression. He then placed them behind him, interlocking his hands at the small of his back. His prey was a little high for him, so he lifted himself on his tip toes, mouth open wide with anticipation. The bottom of the floating chunk bumped into his incisors, and they immediately chomped down. The result was an overfilled mouth. It wasn't until a whole minute of chewing that Justin was able to swallow, gagging a little in the process, and go up for another bite.

It took only five bites to satisfy Justin's hunger, leaving a little less than half of the chicken parcel on the fork. Arrie brought the leftover portion to her mouth and consumed it all at once. She addressed her tiny guest after sending it down her gullet in a small lump.

"I suppose you'll be needing help with the potatoes, too?"

Justin's face contorted to defeated features as he noticed Arrie's right hand replacing the fork from whence it came, seizing the spoon beside it. His neck swiveled to the pool of mashed potatoes back into his line of sight. Craning his neck, he saw Arrie's smug physiognomy communicating to him a sense of knowing deferment. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it suddenly as the potatoes gained his concentration a second time. A wide smirk pushed his thin cheek bones almost to his ears.

"No thanks." He declined with false gaiety.

With that, Justin was off. He ran at full speed for the mashed potatoes. The mostly stifled gasp emanating high overhead told him that his actions had taken Arrie by surprise. It didn't take long for him to make it to the pile of mushed vegetable, and he dove at it without breaking stride. He belly-flopped near the center of his target, his weight submerging his body in the tepid, yellow mud. The gooey substance clang to his skin as it surrounded him. Wasting no time, Justin began taking greedy mouthfuls of semi-solid food, relishing in the milky taste. He sent three gulps to his stomach before he felt a gentle pressure on each of his hips and the now familiar experience of elevation.

Being plucked from his messy meal, Justin was brought to Arrie's eye level by a weakly pinching forefinger and thumb. Her unblinking eyelids were separated by a vast sea of white, complete with their own symmetrical islands of teal drifting in his direction. Her lower jaw was drooped to its limits, forming an elongated vertical oval of deep pinkish-red roughly three-quarters his height. This stunned expression soon gave way, however, as her still open lips curled upward at their corners.

Arrie's open, smiling mouth drew closer to Justin, emerging gradually from below him. Her straight brunet hair ran parallel with her spine as her head tilted back, a few clumps of renegade strands draping over her narrow shoulders in protest. An easeful fingertip nudged the inner thigh of his left leg, brushing the appendage aside. His right foot disappeared into the rising dank cave. As his shin and knee cap were consumed by darkness, the twin gates of scarlet lining the mouth began to close. Sumptuous rims encased his upper thigh, the thick, supple horizontal pillars conforming to its tone. The gargantuan girl leveled her chin so that she was once again facing straight ahead. Arrie was still smiling. Justin was not.

Justin kicked his trapped stake for all it was worth, screaming pleas for leniency. His big toe stubbed on one of the thread-like bands consisting the roof of Arrie's mouth. The sudden pain froze his frantic efforts for a moment, and that's when he felt a wet stroke slide across the bottom of his foot. A moist blanket delicately maneuvered around the lower half of his leg, lapping up the sticky potato residue stubbornly attached. The bumps of Arrie's taste buds caressed his thigh as her tongue worked its way up the limb. Justin shuddered at the attention. His muscular support was sensuously removed from its imprisonment, dragging along the doughy veneer of its still clenched together exit way. As his ped passed through her lips, the flabby muscles collided with a soft pop.

Wordlessly, Arrie lifted Justin's left calf up with her unused index finger. Justin didn't fight the motion, allowing his leg to go limp at the whim of his gigantic captress. She held the fleshly column at a right angle with the puny body in her fingers, her lips coming for their new prize. The ingesting portal did not open right away, however. Rather, as they arrived at the base of Justin's foot, the quaggy borders parted only enough to take it in. The yielding margins clasped around his ankle, the digit suspending his leg slipping up its backside and dropping away. Releasing their grip, Arrie's lips jumped to the middle of his shin, then his knee cap, and finally his thigh, gobbling up inches of skin in pac-man-like fashion. A few tongue sweeps later, and his left leg was leaked from her mouth just in the same manner as his right.

Seeing the focus of Arrie's eyes set upon his left arm next, Justin dreamily held it out to be cleansed. The invitation was well received, and his extended extremity was soon shoulder deep between her hugging lips. The titillating sensation of his arm being licked clean overloaded Justin's senses. All too soon, it was unwillingly liberated as it glided past those heavenly walls of tender ossein, its fingers clutching futilely for the bottom one's brim. Arrie grabbed his right arm with two of her much bigger fingers, wiggling it around teasingly, yet carefully before pulling it linearly over his head. Her tongue poked out of its dwelling, and it wasted no time in its advance. It ran itself lackadaisically up his raised arm several times, as though it were a Popsicle. As the tongue retracted, and her fingers released their hold, his arm flopped lazily back to his side, not gaining his notice.

As Justin watched, the formless pink monster broke past Arrie's lips a second time, its tip creeping along their trail for one rotation. As it slithered back into its domain, those lips separated wide. He realized immediately that he was gravitating toward the hole left in their stead. His upper half was placed into the stuffy pit, his abdomen resting atop Arrie's lower lip. Its malleable counterpart pressed into his back in an osculating fashion. He emitted a terrified shriek as cuspate teeth grazed him from both above and below. After some very gentle nibbling, as well as many horrified cries from Justin, the incisors withdrew. A playful dab of Arrie's tongue connected with his face, knocking the fear from it. He jauntily shot both of his arms out into the lightlessness of her inner mouth, successfully grappling his attacker. The tongue proved too strong, and he was pivoted about, feeling his free legs swing in the open air, until he relinquished his grasp on the its slippery sides.

Returning to the task at hand, the faceless beast cut under Justin, raking his taut front, in even rows from stomach to shoulders, of mashed potatoes. The process was repeated with his back, except that the tongue stopped between his shoulder blades, its tip messaging the area with cylindrical motions. Arrie hummed a delicious moan as she finished cleaning Justin, vibrating his ear drums quite unpleasantly, though it resonated luxuriously throughout his body. Then, he was taken from her mouth.

Justin was promptly set onto the table beside the plate. Arrie attempted a stern demeanor, but the happiness radiating on her face wouldn't allow her to do so. In turn, Justin suffered a similar problem, trying vainly to act indignant at what had just occurred. Arrie tore him a piece of napkin to dry himself of the thin saliva coat surrounding his body, as well as to wipe his untouched waist line of creamy yellow. As he did so, he saw her eyes suddenly pop wide. He looked a question at her. She regarded him with surprising shyness.

"Uh, maybe I should have asked this first, but you showered this morning, right?"