The date had started out so promisingly for Michael. Anne was fit, attractive, and by all appearances interested in him. Maybe her taste in jewelry was a little ostentatious, but that wasn't a deal-breaker by any stretch of the imagination. After dinner, she'd invited him back to her place to drink.

Score, he thought as he entered her apartment. She crossed the living room to the kitchen, but not before pointing to a door down the short hall.

"Bedroom's over there. I'll be right in after I get some drinks. You like Chartreuse?"

He had no idea what Chartreuse even was, — wasn't it a shade of green? — but he nodded anyway; all booze is good booze, right? Michael wasn't sure why she was in such a rush to get him in her bedroom, but he wasn't complaining. Foreplay for women always took longer than he thought it needed to go on, and it always had to start with talking and slow conversations that only eventually led to anything physical. Anne's desire to get down to business was yet another point in her favor.

He wandered into her room, wondering not so idly if it would turn her off if she found him naked when she walked in with the drinks. He decided that it was too much risk for too little reward. After all, it didn't seem to him like she'd need much convincing in the first place. After a few minutes had passed, though, he wasn't so sure. How much time did it take to pour Chartreuse, anyway?

"Need any help out there?"

"No, I'll be right in." It sounded like she was right on the other side of the door, and indeed just a second later she sauntered in completely naked. Well, almost completely naked; she was still wearing the stone-studded silver chain around her neck, but that was all she had with her except for two small glasses filled halfway with a vividly green liquid. "Never had this before? It's a bit of an acquired taste, but you'll probably like it." 

She handed one of the glasses to him and immediately clinked the other with the one he had only just got in his hand. She quickly emptied the alcohol from the glass, but swirled it around her mouth for a few moments. Michael found himself staring at the features of her face as she savored her drink, and his eyes followed it downward as she swallowed it. He was utterly entranced by the rhythmic movements of the taut, pale skin over her neck as her muscles allowed the spirit through her throat. 

He downed his own glass a lot faster than she had. It wasn't really the sort of thing he normally drank, and while he wasn't sure what Chartreuse was supposed to taste like, he thought it seemed a bit off. 

Thankfully, Anne didn't seem too offended by his speedy drinking. In fact, her lips were curling slyly at him as she fingered the smooth brown stones hanging around her neck. Watching his reaction to the liquor, she smirked.

"I guess I just have weird taste. Sorry." She didn't look sorry at all.

"It's all right, really. I just need to get used to it." However, he instinctively shook his head to rid himself of the aftertaste. That was some strong stuff, whatever it was. 

"Don't worry about that. I have plenty of other things for you to drink." Her smirk, if anything, had widened even more. Maybe it was just his imagination, or her expression actually seemed physically larger, too. There was no way he was that drunk already, was there? He looked straight ahead at her; she was still playing with her necklace draped between her breasts. Her very large breasts... impossibly large breasts. How were they so huge? Wait a second: why was her cleavage at eye-level?

In fact, it was actually above eye-level to him and shifting increasingly higher.

"What's going on?!"

Anne just kept that infuriating grin on her face, but now her eyes looked different. Hungrier. She continued rubbing the stones on the chain with an insane eagerness. 

And Michael kept getting smaller. He was falling out of his own clothes; he was getting buried by his own clothes. He kept shouting up at the giant woman beside him, but even if she weren't ignoring his cries, she couldn't even hear him anymore. When finally his shirt became so heavy to him that he couldn't lift it up above him, he stopped shrinking. He felt the bed shake under him and his shirt drag over him, and then two outrageously giant fingers (with nails almost as tall as him!) grabbed him up.

He zoomed over pale skin like a plane over snowy hills, his breath taken from him as quickly as he flew, stopping abruptly above a pair of gigantic, shiny lips, warm drafts rising up around him from them. And then there was thunder.

"Hey, cutie." The incongruity between her words and the sheer volume with which she spoke them was completely absurd. Michael would have been speechless if the whole situation hadn't already rendered him dumbstruck.

"You're probably wondering what's going on. That's reasonable. I'll tell you, but just the one time, so listen up." Like so many other things happening to him, the idea that he could do anything but pay attention to the woman dangling his entire body above her mouth was ridiculous.

"I'm attracted to tiny men. Really, really attracted to really, really tiny men, and I'm lucky enough to have a way to make that happen. You don't need to know too much about the whys and wherefores, but the short version is magic. The slightly longer version is that this necklace lets me shrink anyone who's just drunk a certain potion."

"You spiked my drink!?"

Michael's outrage, though obvious, was comically minuscule to Anne, and she couldn't entirely make out what he was yelling about.

"I can't hear you, you know. You're way too tiny." She moaned loudly at that thought, completely drowning out his shouts and, given his proximity to her mouth, neatly stunning him back into silence.

"Oops. Anyway, you're probably angry about your drink. Good thing you're not the type to know good booze. Don't worry, though; I won't get bored with you even if you're not too smart."

Her trademark smirk returned, waiting below his dangling form menacingly. She was practically purring.

"I want you for your body."