1. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Many years ago...



The soldiers remained in formation as they surrounded the building. Those countrymen brave enough to leave their houses looked on as their conqueror stepped forward. He was not a particularly large man, nor a strong man, but his golden tongue had plied those larger and stronger to complete devotion to his cause. They had never seen him look as happy as he did now as he approached the main entrance.

"I want to be the first to enter. Make sure nobody else comes in until I've looked around," He said, his general nodded but said nothing, "Many works of the true masters are here. I've longed to visit this place since I was a boy, and now it's mine. This is nothing like that Degenerate Art that is proliferated by the filth that dares call themselves artists now. It is pure and true, much like my own paintings," The soldiers formed a tight perimeter as their leader opened the doors. At his command, he was the only one to enter, but they could hear his footsteps as he picked up speed. There was no marching; he was skipping like a child in a toy store.

Once he'd made significant headway into the building though, the skipping slowed to a walk, then stopped altogether, then the little man let out a scream of rage.

“Empty! Why is it empty?”




The real point of the story...



We will leave him there now for his eventual defeat and suicide, for he is no longer important to our story, but we needed to explain how an ancient artifact of great power ended up in a rural barn far away from civilization. When it became apparent that the battle was lost and foreign enemies were moving in on the land, it was decided by the people that their art was their legacy and no foreign hands should touch it. The museum was a national treasure, but it also made pillaging (to use our own words) a one stop shopping ordeal, so, many of the citizens throughout the land took one piece of priceless art to their home and hid it somewhere safe. When the enemy took what they thought would be their greatest treasure, they found it empty.

One item, known only as la Vénus Vert was taken by one, Gerard Coeur and hidden in his barn. It was a small statue, about nine centimeters in height, of green stone, that was crudely carved into a woman's face. It predated written history and nobody knew what civilization had created it. la Vénus Vert had been held safely in the museum since its discovery and had done no harm. If anybody had known what power it possessed, perhaps it wouldn't have ended up where it did.



After the war was over and reconstruction had begun, most of the artwork found its way back to its home. Unfortunately, however, by theft or accident some valuable pieces were lost forever. M. Coeur had full intentions of bringing la VÈnus Vert back, but sadly, he met with a fatal heart attack before the war had ended. He had no children or immediate family, and he had told no one of his possession of the piece; so when he died, it remained, secreted in his barn for over sixty years until one fateful day when its power manifested.



Present day



Some time in mid afternoon, a dark figure crept out of the woods beside the old farmhouse. He had a natural drowsy appearance that belied his sharp wit and calculating mind. Delano Doigts made money for a living (literally) which apparently, some people frowned upon, namely, the government. While he ran he carried with him, in a small pack, etched plates for twenty Euro notes. He spent a lot of time perfecting them and didn't want to just throw them in a bin even knowing that being caught with them would lead to heavier charges. He had no intention of getting caught. He'd gotten away this long, and had been in far worse scrapes. The particular hound that was sniffing him out now had nearly caught him in two different cities. Delano's mother would argue that he wasn't a bad man; he was just a bit misguided. He was good with his hands and she still hoped he'd actually take up an honest job. She constantly prayed for him, though he wished she wouldn't. She was wasting her time. The only god Delano believed in was the one he produced with the plates.



Beside the woods stood an old barn that looked completely unused. That description would fit the entire land. Unused. The grass was high, the paint on the house and the barn had mostly peeled away, and the only evidence that anybody lived in the house was a small car parked beside it. He figured the barn was the best bet for shelter. The sky had been threatening rain all day and he didn't want to risk getting in a fight. He figured he could rest in the barn, then sneak into the house after the owners fell asleep and take what he needed. His rations were gone and he needed money to get out of the country.



Delano tried to open the barn door as quietly as possible, but thanks to the aged rusty hinges, it shrieked all the louder for his efforts. In his mind, the whole countryside could hear it, but nobody came. He pulled it closed behind him to more rusty screams before climbing into the loft and hiding. After setting his pack down and preparing to use it for a pillow, he noticed a bright green glow emanating from the floorboards.



He crawled over to the light and found that the boards were loose. Upon prying them up, he found that the light was coming from a small green statue of a woman's head. It looked very primitive and considering the fact that it was hidden, it must have been valuable. He picked it up and marveled at it. He wondered how much it was worth. As he held it, the light intensified and he felt a warm tingling sensation that started in his genitals and flowed throughout his body. He screamed.



In Hot Pursuit…



Inspector Drew Yeux had been following the counterfeiter for years. During the Euro changeover, the scoundrel had been sneaking Franks from the trains that were taking them to be burned and turning them in for Euros. He graduated to counterfeiting after the changeover was complete and had been getting bolder with his work. Each new fake bill brought the nations economy lower and lower. As far as Inspector Yeux was concerned it was tantamount to murder on a grand scale. Many would starve in order for one man to become rich.

He had a narrow face that always held a look of suspicion no matter what he was doing. He wasn't prone to anger, but most people thought he was mad all the time. In reality, he was constantly thinking, working out puzzles and problems. He was very single minded and would become absorbed in a case until the very end, much like his hero, Eugene Francois Vidocq. He was unmarried. He saw how his father (also a police officer, although he hated pastries, which alienated him from his colleagues) failed to balance a family and his work, and suffered in both. He decided he was married to his work.

He managed to track his quarry to a small farmhouse. He was debating whether he would be in the barn or the house when he heard a scream from the barn. Ever dutiful, he dashed into the barn just in time to be pegged in the head by a glowing green light. As he faded, he felt a warm tingling in his groin that spread throughout his body. His collar seemed to be rising above his head, but before he could investigate the cause of this sensation, he drifted into unconsciousness in the rotting hay.



When the Rain Came…



Nanette's hands were occupied so she kicked in the barn door with her bare feet. It protested loudldly, but it flew inward. Despite the fact that she held her canvas over her head as an impromptu umbrella, the downpour had completely drenched her. Her thick black hair hung limp against her head and back, and her green sundress clung revealingly against her lithe body. If she wasn't completely alone it might be embarrassing considering the fact that it was all she had on. She’d thrown it on as an afterthought when she went out to paint. Considering the isolation of her place, most of the time she wouldn’t have bothered with anything.

She stared at her dripping painting and sighed. There was no saving it now. Fine day to decide to use gouache instead of Oils like normal. Oils probably would've survived the rain. She tossed the unrecoverable painting aside and looked around. She had only lived here for a month, and this was her first time to set foot in the barn. Despite the lingering animal and old plant smell it was warm and cozy. She decided she had to come out here and paint some time. Her easel and paints were still outside, most likely being buried in the mud, but that was ok. 

The wet dress was very uncomfortable against her skin and she considered removing it, but after seeing the condition of the hay on the ground thought that a thin barrier was better than no barrier at all. As she looked around for a place to sit a bright green light caught her eye. Digging in the gray hay she found a small statue of a woman's face. It was very simple, just a head with a slight brow protrusion that gave the appearance of an eye line, a small bump for a nose and tight braided hair carved along the back of the head. Despite the simplicity it was unquestionably feminine.

The statue glowed in her hand and filled her belly with a warm pleasant sensation. She couldn't help but worry that it might be radioactive. Maybe it was a relic from the radium fad many years ago. She quickly dropped it and backed away, staring at her hands, then at the strange statue. She saw movement in the hay out of the corner of her eye. A mouse? Whatever it was it was too close to her bare feet for comfort. She let out a shriek and jumped.

Whatever it was tried to scuttle away, but accidentally bounded in the same direction she jumped. It was right between her legs when she landed, so she panicked and kicked it. As it flew through the air, she realized it definitely wasn't a mouse. It was too fleshy. It had pinkish tan skin. Her eyes must have played tricks on her, because it almost looked like a tiny person. She had to know what it was, so she made her way to the haystack where it had landed.

Her hazel eyes went wide and she gasped. She couldn't believe it! They were real!

Inspector Yeux was winded and sore, but otherwise uninjured. The hay had absorbed most of the blow. The giant woman was staring down at him in wonder. Had he been the kind of person that thought of those kinds of things, he would have found her beautiful. She had thick black hair, olive skin, and a mildly prominent Mediteranean nose. Once again he found himself between her feet. The wetness had caused dirt and hay to cling to them. He was barely able to fathom her as a whole right now, so he focused on them. He was barely larger than her big toe. Ever the problem solver, his gears started turning, working hard at a solution. He still didn't know what happened. Was he small, or was she a giant?

"Wow a real homunculus," Nanette marveled. She reached out to pick it up and it turned to run. Thinking quickly, she stood up and blocked his path with her foot. When he turned to run again, she nudged him in the back with her big toe, causing him to fall on his belly. She pinned him down firmly but gently with her foot. He struggled and squirmed under her making some kind of high-pitched peeping noise. She wanted to duck down and pick him up, but was afraid that if she lifted her foot, he'd run. Since he looked like a person, she reasoned, it was a possibility that she could communicate with it, "Don't worry, little guy. I'm not going to hurt you. If you promise not to run, I'll lift my foot. Do we have a deal?" As if in response, the tiny thing under her foot stopped its wiggling (which she had to admit, she had come to enjoy) Taking that for consent, Nanette lifted her foot. The homunculus stood up and brushed itself off. It had a look of disgust on it's face that was just adorable, "I'm going to pick you up now, ok?" It nodded slowly. Gently and with much trembling, Nanette lifted it from the hay. It felt warm in her hand. The little guy's light pink skin was a stark contrast to her own flesh.

On close inspection she saw that it indeed looked like a tiny man. The poor thing was filthy now. Nanette looked around and saw an old-fashioned water pump in the corner. As she made her way over to it, the homunculus started peeping again. This time, since he was closer, she noticed that it sounded like actual words, so she drew him closer to her face. He didn't look comfortable with this, and for some reason that she couldn't explain, that thrilled Nanette.

"Please miss, I need your help. I am a police inspector. A very dangerous man has been spotted nearby, and I have been sent to apprehend him," The tiny thing squeaked.

"Ooh, homunculi have police? And criminals too?" She held him tight, drawing him even closer. He wiggled in her hand and looked like he was fighting the urge to flinch.

"What?" He asked, "What are you talking about? I am an officer of the law. If you are harboring this criminal, you can expect to face charges,"

Barely listening to him, she reached over and lifted a bucket of water that was near the pump and poured it on the old metal to prime it, then began to pump the handle.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"You're filthy. You have foot stuff all over you," She said. Before he could respond she shoved him under the water and rinsed him off. He sputtered and gasped trying to fight her hand. He was using all of his strength and getting nowhere. Nanette didn't know why, but the thought of his powerlessness sent warmth through her body, "There. All clean," She refilled the bucket and sat it next to the pump, then moved the tiny man around in her hands, "Hey, you don't have wings!" she said.

"Of course not!" He shouted, "Why would I have wings?"

"Yia Yia used to tell me that all the little homunculi had wings. She said if you swallowed one, you would gain the ability to fly," Nanette said.

Inspector Yeux went pale, "No! That would be murder!" it shouted. Nanette had a dreamy expression on her face.

"Every since I was a little girl I've always wanted to fly," She didn't pay any attention to its protests. Nanette spread her arms and ran through the barn pretending to fly, "I think it would be just wonderful," Her little passenger's world blurred and he had to fight to hold in his lunch.

"You can't seriously be thinking about swallowing me," It yelled. The rain pattered on the roof, and she could barely hear him. She wasn't too concerned about what it was saying anyways.

"Maybe it's a cantrip or a glamor. You're probably just hiding your wings. I know I would," She said turning it around in her hands and feeling along its back for any sign of wings, "Are they like a dragonfly or a bird's wings?" She pinched its shoulder blades and it cried out in pain.

"Please, miss, I don't have wings. I am a normal man. Something has gone terribly wrong," He begged.

"Hmm, you're kind of big. I don't know how I'm going to do this. When I was little I had to take a pill that was almost your size. It hurt a bit," She rolled him around between her thumb and index finger trying to decide how to do it.

"Look over there! You'll find my cl-" He started, but she lifted him above her head.

"I wonder if it'll work right away or take a few minutes," She grinned up at him. Her teeth weren't perfect, but they were clean and each individual tooth was a little bigger than his head. She moistened her lips with her tongue and lowered him with her fingers on his shoulders. He kicked his legs and tried to plant them on her lips to ward off the moist pit of death below.

"Please miss, you're making a terrible mistake!" He shouted as he slammed his foot into her upper lip. It tickled a bit and she had to scratch it.

"Now you're just being selfish," She chided, wagging her finger at him, "If I don't swallow you, how am I supposed to fly?" She opened her mouth wider and brought him back down. He tried to kick her lip again, but she drew it up. His foot slid against her wet incisor, then the lip came back down, trapping the foot between it and the tooth. She drew her tongue out and pushed his other foot next to the trapped one. He tried to kick loose, but the hot wet flesh pressed his soles firmly against her incisors.

He screamed and flailed like a panicked animal as her lips tightened around his ankles and she started sucking him in. He tasted mildly salty and the wiggling was utterly delightful. She sucked him in further. His legs were completely in her mouth and his tiny fists, smaller than match heads were pounding against her lips. She slid her tongue out and hooked it behind his head, pulling his body all the way in. He was somewhere around five centimeters tall, plus he was struggling. The next part was going to be very difficult. She pressed him against her hard palate until she could get him where she figured she needed him, counted to three in her head, and then swallowed. She felt a big wiggling lump travel all the way down. As it went the statue began to glow again. She felt a fluttery poky sensation below her left breast and smiled. She didn't choke at all! It went far better than those stupid horse pills. She decided that the best place to learn to fly from would be the loft, so she quickly climbed the ladder and scrambled onto the wooden surface nearly tripping over a carrying bag. It was black and somewhat heavy. There was also a pile of clothes crumpled on the loft floor. This filled her with disappointment. He probably wasn't a homunculus. Isn't, she corrected herself after feeling the wiggling twitch again.



Completely forgetting her purpose for climbing, she opened the bag and took a peek inside. There were carved plates for Twenty Euro notes!  She saw that some of the floorboards had been removed and crawled over to the hole. Another tiny man was inside jumping desperately and trying to reach the top.

It was just too far. Delano couldn't reach. He heard the conversation below and was becoming increasingly frightened. At least up here he was less likely to be noticed, or so he thought until the wood began to creak and groan as Nanette climbed the ladder. He could hear her thumping around followed by the sound of his bag being unzipped. Thump, thump, thump, she made her way to his hole. He redoubled his efforts to escape. Her toes peeked over the edge and gripped the sides of the boards tight, and then she knelt down and smiled at him.

"You must be the dangerous man the inspector was talking about," She said with a giggle, "You don't look dangerous to me," He was encased in shadow as she reached down to get him. He tried to run, but when he reached the corner of the hole there was nowhere else to go. She pressed him against the wall and slid him up along the wood until she had a firm grasp on his tiny frame. He tried to force her hand open, but he couldn't even get her fingers to move. He might as well have been in a steel claw, "I guess if you really are a dangerous criminal, I should do my civic duty,"

"You're going to turn me in?" He asked. Her sly smile gave him a bad feeling.

"In a way," She said. She supposed she should let the inspector out now that she knew he wasn't lying, but she wouldn't. It was too hard to relinquish the power she had over him. Besides, if one felt this good, two had to be much better. Before the "dangerous man" could protest, she popped him into her mouth and readied him to be swallowed. Being experienced at this now, she did it quicker this time. As she felt the lump travel down, she lay against the pack and rubbed her belly. It felt nice to lay here with her little guests. When the rain let up, she would go back into the house, but for now, she could nap where she was feeling the delightful flutters and listening to the drumming on the roof. Her dress glowed faintly as she slept, her dreams filled with tiny men.