Chelsea swung her backpack over one shoulder and sighed as she walked out of Mr. Grayson's English class. Or well, what used to be Mr. Grayson's English class. Since the shrinking it had quite clearly become Stacey Milton's class. In a way, Chelsea wasn't surprised that the mousy little nerd did something like that. She had always been a bit of a bratty know-it-all, just waiting to lord her intelligence over someone else. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little bad for Mr. Grayson. The poor guy was definitely going to find his way past Stacey's lips, just not the ones on her face.
She couldn't help but smile at the thought though. It was, after all, sort of funny to Chelsea when students had crushes on teachers. Some teachers were aware of their fan clubs and the like, others were painfully oblivious. For a moment, she wondered exactly where Mr. Grayson had fallen in regards to Stacey. Either way though, it's not like anything would have happened before, and it'd be super gross if it did. The situation was different now though. It's not like Stacey was going to date Mr. Grayson, she was just going to use him.
Her fingers unconsciously trailed over her own little imprisoned teacher, and her smirk grew a little bit when the tiny person flinched against her thigh. Chelsea said nothing to reassure Ms. Cavelli of what her intentions were as her fingers explored the miniaturized teacher's soft skin. You didn't have to explain yourself to your toys and pets.
Rather than waste time walking through the halls, Chelsea opened a door and started to cut across one of the interior courtyards of the school. It was a small slice of nature nestled amidst the concrete and steel. The courtyards were rarely open to students, despite the picnic tables and benches that implied that they were designed for student use. Years ago though, Chelsea learned that they would often be open in the days leading up to breaks and major exams. A little known gift from someone with the keys to students seeking a quiet place.
Chelsea paused, remembering previous years when she would hang out here on other days before spring or summer break, ditching class to share a joint with Liz or Matt. It was always nice and peaceful in the little courtyards and no one ever seemed to actually look into them, which made them perfect for illicit activities. A giggle escaped her lips as she remembered the boyfriend who had actually introduced her to this particular courtyard.
An uncontrollable flush of red reached her cheeks as she thought of the things she had done when she had first visited this place.
Such thoughts reminded her of exactly what might be waiting for her in the gym. Chelsea shuddered at the thought of watching Matt pound Liz, his pale ass thrusting back and forth through the air. Accidentally walking in on them was enough for a whole lifetime, and that was before they would have had any little 'volunteers,' to help them. Whatever Liz was doing with her tiny subjects, Chelsea didn't want to see it.
Settling down on one of the benches, Chelsea pulled out her phone and shot off a quick text to her friend, [Hey, when you guys are done fucking, could you check to see if you have a shrunken Frank Carlotta with you?] Putting her phone on the bench next to her, Chelsea decided that she didn't want to let a moment of relaxation go to waste.
Bending down, she unzipped her backpack and dug her hand into an interior pocket before pulling out a little baggie of weed, rolling papers, and a lighter. Chelsea started humming to herself as she carefully set everything in her lap, and set about preparing herself a nice little joint.
From her lap of course came a suddenly bitchy series of tweets and chirps. All Chelsea could do was arch an eyebrow at her captive teacher, before the little woman started to scream loud enough to be heard, “What do you think you're doing, Ms. Dewinter?! I know what marijuana looks and smells like.”
Raising the carefully bent rolling paper up to her face, Chelsea casually licked it for adhesion and then rolled it into a smooth cylindrical shape. “If you know what it looks like and you know what it smells like, then what the hell do you think I'm doing, Angela?” Chelsea sneered down at the tiny woman, amazed that she was still trying to seem authoritative.
“Not only is that against the student code of conduct, Ms. Dewinter, but it is illegal.”
“Pfft, it's legal in Washington and Colorado.” Chelsea waved her hand down dismissively at the shrunken teacher as she slipped the joint between her lips and set about packing away everything but her lighter.
“That is no excuse...”
Chelsea flicked the teacher's flank with her index finger. The small amount of force had the immediate effect of shutting the tiny woman up. “If you don't want the ashes burned into you, Angela, I'd suggest you shut the fuck up.” With a few twists of her thumb, Chelsea was able to light the thin joint and inhale deeply.
As the smoke coursed through her lungs, Chelsea was already feeling better. She bent down and dug her fingers into her shoe before they grabbed a hold of the small wriggling form that was still pressed between her socked foot and the walls of her sneaker. Dumping the small cheerleader on the ground, Chelsea looked down at her and smiled, “Hey there, Freshbug.”
The little girl chirped in fear and backed away from Chelsea's all-powerful feet.
Chelsea took another drag before she leaned back against the bench and set her feet out before her. Crossing her ankles over each other, she delighted in hearing the light tapping of her shoes' thick rubber soles bouncing into each other. “Get to work, Freshbug,” she commanded. Her eyes watched as the tiny form of the once proud freshman cheerleader ran to her skate shoes and immediately set to work prying bones, guts, and dried blood from them. “Don't be afraid to use your little tongue,” she added with a bark of laughter.
Once again a stream of protests came up from her thigh as Ms. Cavelli finally became aware of the little woman Chelsea had kept imprisoned in her shoe. Taking a deep pull of her joint, Chelsea merely bent down and blew the secondhand smoke all over her teacher's pathetically small body. “Chill out, Angela, unless you want to end up down there with her.”
Her fingers came down and wrapped around the small woman. Then, carefully she untied the rubber band holding her to her belt. It was amazing to feel the way Ms. Cavelli's body just relaxed even though the little woman was still trapped in Chelsea's grip. She lifted her up to her face as she took another drag on the joint. All the smoke was once again directed at the clearly exhausted Ms. Cavelli, “You are so fucking small.”
The miniature woman struggled and whined against the titanic teen's tree like fingers. “Like, do you get how fucking small you are?” She asked as she leaned in toward her, trying to inspect the little form. Angela twisted away from her breath that now reeked of weed, the small woman coughing, never experiencing the earthy stench with such power before. As the gray eyes ravaged the tiny woman's body, Chelsea giggled, “I think I've taken shits bigger than you. Do you realize that's how small you are, Angela? You're smaller than my shits.”
Chelsea could feel the small woman trembling in her grasp and it made her feel fantastic. Slowly, and with immense care, Chelsea lifted the burning end of her joint to the shrunken teacher's flesh being certain to not quite let it touch her flesh. “I bet this is pretty terrifying to you. A fucking lit joint could just destroy you.” As Ms. Cavelli tried to bury herself deeper in Chelsea's palm, she imagined what it would be like if she brought the smoking herbs against the math teacher's flesh.
A buzzing noise broke her from her reverie though.
Apparently Liz had finally stopped fucking.
Placing the joint back into her lips, Chelsea almost killed it with her next drag as she read the response, [Nopes, and he wasn't lost during the demonstration either. Matt says you might want to check the locker rooms and pool. Swim class today.]
“Fucking... really?” Chelsea said to no one in particular as she finished the joint and stubbed out the remaining ash on the old bench. As she sat up, she looked down at her enclosed fist and what was wrapped up in it. Then her eyes ran over her backpack and the little freshman girl that was racing to reach where she had just planted her feet.
Chelsea laughed at the little freshman's predicament, bending her feet so she could inspect the soles of her shoes. The left was mostly clean but the right still had various chunks stuck to it. Sanding up to her full height she watched as the miniature blond stopped in her tracks. “Well, Freshbug, you're going to have to do a much better job next time because cleaning these shoes is easy. Just watch.” Lifting her foot high up, Chelsea swiped it down at an angle against the lip of the bench, instantly sheering off the guts of whoever it was she had stepped on.
With her foot planted on the bench, Chelsea bent all the way down before she plucked up her shoe slave in the same hand as Ms. Cavelli. “Freshbug meet Angela, Angela this is my little Freshbug,” she introduced as she squeezed the two women together between her fingers, “I figured I should give you guys a chance to bond seeing as how you'll be spending a fuck ton of time together as my... I don't know, slaves? Pets? Toys? Something like that.” Chelsea smiled at the thought of waking every morning to Ms. Cavelli cleaning the lint from between her toes, and this little freshbug licking the scuff marks from her shoes. A devilish smile crossed Chelsea's face as she tossed her backpack over one shoulder and imagined exactly where she would be keeping Jenni Fitztaylor in the future.
On her way to the locker rooms, Chelsea stopped by her locker. Her fingers quickly spun through the combination and popped open the thin metal door. She hung her backpack up on the coat hook inside, and then dumped Ms. Cavelli and the Freshbug atop the rank pile of gym clothes she needed to take home. “Don't worry, girls,” she teased them, “I totally have to take these home today or else they'll never get clean and my locker will be fucking rank for the rest of the year. So no worries, I won't leave you in here.”
Both shrunken people were clearly disgusted by the stench, covering their tiny noses and mouths as they tried to escape the smell. Chelsea laughed as she watched them try to run across her running shorts, only spilling into unsupported pockets of clothing where they were almost buried amidst her gross sweat-soaked gym clothes. Without a second thought, she slammed the door shut and set about to find her way to the boy's locker rooms, and the only little person who would know for certain where Jenni was.