Ivy entered the dark computer lab. The light switch remained off, but she liked it that way. Made the whole endeavor take a clandestine feel. It was perfect.

Anna was right. She couldn't just set up an ad for young men wanting to be the shrunken pet of an Asian giantess. What kind of person could she even expect to answer such a call? A stalker, hoping to prey on a naive young woman who indulged in ridiculous fantasy? No, that definitely wouldn't do. The last thing she needed was an overzealous creeper chasing after her, wanting to live out a wanton and unexceptional fantasy. She wanted a real relationship, a man who would wish to take desire to novel heights, to explore the wondrous world she could lay for them. She wanted to be loved, pursued not for fetishistic ideals alone. She wanted him to want her, mind and body entwined.

But their discussion had sparked something, she just had to find it. Ivy remembered a recent research fair, the constant barrage of accomplishments and endeavors of peers were advertised in every fashion. Any excuse for shameless self promotion of the university in hopes of additional publicity generated by youth laden hopefuls wanting a piece of the scientific pie. One had resonated with her.  She tried to remember the gist. A young group of biotech students, developing some new pharmaceutical device. The details were lost on her, but the dive to surreality that followed the presentation was cemented.  It had occurred to her suddenly, that unreachable epiphany, that somebody on the project would have to be intrigued by their own work on a... less than scientific basis. So she found a chair, perched there in the midst of a dimly lit room, surrounded by the din and hum of constantly updated computers. Sitting down, she rapped the mouse and waited for a monitor to flicker to life, contrasting the stark shadows behind. It awoke, bathing her face in the soft glow, and asked for her credentials. She typed away, jumping to her desktop screen. Her next selection was her internet browser, the school home page appearing by default.

Ivy ignored the local news bulletins, instead finding the research tab for undergraduate student. She found the biology department, and browsed the list of recent highlights. And there it was. Titled 'Dr. Grant and team are developing a new synthetic material, designed to withstand biologic degradation within the extremes of the human body.' Ivy took the final hyperlink and scrolled down.

The page began with a photograph, one female and four male students posed in front of the professor. They wore full lab coats, extending from shoulder past their knees, cleaned and pressed without a hint of their labors. They smiled, and their mentor lay arms over two of their shoulders. Their names were listed from left to right in the caption. She smiled, they were a cute bunch, and their enthusiastic grins were inviting. Ivy scrolled past to the main article and began reading.

'Dr. Grant and his team have finally reached a breakthrough. Their pursuit of bio-resistant materials has led to the development of a new, unnamed material, that is resistant to the greatest defenses of the human body. Early trials show resistance to digestive enzymes and acids, with the material remaining untarnished after months of immersion. The material was developed with the intention of creating a new capsule that could remain within the human digestive system for longer periods of time, slowly releasing small quantities of a drug, used to treat chronic illness.

Numerous pharmaceutical companies have begun approaching the team, who are delighted with the unanimously positive response. Groups have stated that they hope to use the material to help patients burdened with long term illness who do not wish the burden of remembering numerous pills every day for months on end. Should the product be successful, it would be able to remain inflated within specific portions of the stomach or intestines, slowly releasing a drug at a predictable or predetermined rate. While the team remains hopeful, they aim to construct a prototype capsule and test drug secreting potential as well as stability within the laboratory prior to a public release of the technology.'

Ivy felt the chills again. It was too perfect. With such a material, one could design a capsule to contain anything, sending it on a whirlwind tour of one's gastrointestinal tract. Not just drugs, but any small object. One-use cameras existed, but they were considered unsafe with repeated use. Yet this would allow a tiny object, a tiny person, to safely be ingested. They could be forced to stay patiently within the confines of ones belly, or haplessly passed along towards inevitable expulsion. It was a giantess' wet dream. To swallow and not to harm. Ivy fought the growing urge to rush home and begin her 'research' of giantess culture. It seemed too good to be true. Which meant, damnit, was it?

Ivy paused to flesh out her thoughts. With only five members, and four men, how could she guarantee that even one of them fantasized about ingestion. And would that even align with her own desires? She wanted more than a tiny man to safely swallow and subsequently expel from her rectum. What if their secret desires ended there, would that be enough? She tried to banish the thought. What if the only interested party was the young woman from the photo? She had entirely forgotten that she was not alone amongst women who entertained the hopes of becoming something more. And she didn't even know if they were single? Would they even like her? A torrent of doubt continued to berate her psyche. She tried to pull, find a way from stalling into a nose dive and trashing the whim before it suffocated. Her mind perched on a final precipice, then stopped.

Was she becoming the stalker? How was she any different than some creepy older man, masturbating behind a computer screen, hoping to finally track down a woman who would fulfill his sexual deviancy? She was starting with a glance, yet had to make a reality. To make matters worse, she was completely inexperienced with the brasher opposite sex. Relationships had evaded her, men had smiled but passed along just as quickly. Rachel said it was her cold stare, that she had to be warmer and more bubbly. Let them do the talking, giggle foolishly at their jokes, placate them. Despite that, Ivy had never even lay with a man, let alone shrink him and use him for sexual pursuits. How would she even approach someone?

'I saw your photo and hoped you would like to be shrunk down to be my tiny man for the rest of your life. Hi, I'm Ivy.'

Her head spun. It was hopeless. Stop, no, gah. She threw herself back in the chair, pushing out from the table's edge. With her neck reclined over the head rest, Ivy watched the black ceiling. It had no answers for her, but it helped bring a shallow calm. How did Rachel do it? Anna had lucked into finding the perfect little man, but Rachel had let a veritable throng pass through her bedroom doors and did so with relative nonchalance. She didn't want to scare him away. Ivy felt that pressure return. If she picked wrong, came across too zealous, too strange... it was over.

Still, it seemed like her best shot. Ivy gulped, fighting the butterflies that slammed themselves around inside. If she failed, she was doomed to watching Anna and Kal, vicariously living out her fantasy through them and the world wide web. It seemed empty. She needed Anna's gentle charm, Rachel's ferocity, Sam's perkiness and creativity. She needed help, she needed her friends, their advice. She had one chance.

Maybe her only chance...