The Hurricane

He was startled when Hannah burst into Sophie’s room, dressed only in a pair of sheer black panties, breasts bouncing. Opening Sophie’s closet, she started pushing clothes aside, emerging with a pretty blue dress. Sliding it over her head, she shimmied it down and gave herself the once over in the mirror. Stopping at the door, she clicked the light off. He frowned.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when the door to Sophie’s room opened again, light from the hall pouring in. Thinking Sophie was back, he climbed up onto the desk and turned around and was startled to see Hannah there. She clicked on the light and he was momentarily blinded, and like a deer in headlights, he froze.

Hannah saw the flicker of movement from the desk. “What the fuck?” she said taking a couple of steps in that direction, leaning in close to look at him, he could smell alcohol on her breath.

There was nowhere to hide, no chance to elude notice. He smiled and waved, “Hi Hannah.”

“Is that you Theo?” she asked, there was a slight slur in her voice.

He nodded.

“You’re so teeny,” she said, straightening up, she moved close to the edge of the desk. He took a couple of steps backward as she looked down between her magnificent naked breasts at him. “I could just gobble you up you’re so cute,” she teased.

“What are you doing in Sophie’s room?” he asked.

“Stupid Eddie,” she started, her latest boyfriend, “That idiot wants to go down to the river and drink with the boys rather than tap this. Asshole.” Turning, she took a step back and peeled the slinky dress off, teetering a moment before tossing it into the open doorway of Sophie’s darkened closet. She was completely naked. Breasts sitting high and firm on her chest, slender waist, smooth hairless sex. He frowned, when she put the dress on she had had panties on and now somehow through the course of the night they were gone. “Can you honestly tell you wouldn’t hit this?” she demanded, arms spread wide.

He was a little intimidated by the intensity in her voice, but she was beautiful in all her glory. He shook his head, “I’d probably hit it,” he said, agreeing with her to try and mollify her.

“Thank you!” she said, nodding her head forward.

Returning, she held her full breasts together. “They’re real,” she said, “And he’d rather just hang out with the boys than play with my girls,” she snapped.

“The idiot,” Theo replied sympathetically.

Releasing her breasts, she put her hands down near her pussy. “Smooth as silk,” she said. Pressing herself close to the desk, she said, “Here, feel it.”

He was nervous, but so too was he curious. Stepping forward, he reached out to touch the bare flesh. Her scent was different than Sophie’s, slightly pungent, a hint of urine, but no less heady, alluring in its own right. The closer he got to her, the more fascinated he became. It was indeed smooth as he caressed her outer labia, sliding his hand upward, over her partially exposed clit. “Very smooth,” he said, withdrawing his hand and taking a few step back.

She looked down at him. Reaching behind him, she moved him back toward her, “Do that again,” she encouraged. Leaning in close, her excited button very close to his face, he took it in his hands, and slowly drew his fingers down either side.

“Ooh,” she said appreciatively.

He reached up and repeated the process, using his fingers to stimulate the emerging flesh. He felt her finger on his back and suddenly, forcefully, she pushed him up tight against her swollen pussy. His body slipping into the groove between her inner lips. He tried to push back against the finger pinning him there, but she was far too powerful, his hands doing nothing more than elevating her desire. She pressed on him with more of her fingers, driving him harder against her. She began to move him around the delicate flesh, stimulating herself with his head and torso. Suddenly the pressure was gone and he dropped back onto the desk, slick with her secretions. He pushed himself backward, trying to catch his breath.

“C’mon,” she said, snaking a hand down and closing it around him. His arms and legs were pinned, his head and feet hanging out either side of her right hand. She moved quickly, causing his stomach to roll as she hastened to her own room. Climbing onto her bed, she rolled onto her back, legs splayed. Shifting her grip on him so that she held him by his legs, she brought him back toward her vagina. With her left hand, she opened herself. He felt a moment of panic as her right hand, him firmly held descended toward the glistening pink flesh. Realizing her intent, he put his hands out, as if the gesture might prevent what was going to happen. His arms slid easily into the well lubricated hole as she eased him head first into her vagina. He struggled against the flesh enveloping him, compressing him. She shifted her grip down, closing her thumb and index finger over his lower legs, pushing him deeper before slowly drawing him almost all the way out. He opened his mouth to breath, but was suddenly plunged back into the confining sleek tunnel, her juices filling his mouth. The speed with which she began to drive him in and out her heated sex accelerated as she surrendered herself to pleasure and the pursuit of release. The pressure around him intensified tremendously until there was a series of massive contractions, each diminishing in power, but still crushing the very life out of him. He felt as if trapped in a vice, he started to see spots. Slowly, almost begrudgingly, she pulled him free of her ravenous pussy. Raising him over her face, she let him dangle there a moment while she looked at him.

“Mmm, that was amazing,” she cooed, brow damp, face flush. Holding him upside down, she brought him to her mouth. Parting her scarlet lips and pearly white teeth, she lowered him down, tongue snaking out to taste him, receive him. Closing her lips around his calves, she held him fast while her tongue explored his flesh and cleaned him. The smell of alcohol was very strong, almost overpowering. She pulled him free of her mouth, as she might a lollipop, a wet sucking sound. He gasped for another fresh breath.

Sitting upright on her bed, she crossed her legs and set him on the bed between them. He lay there a moment, face down, legs aching, particularly his claves. He rolled onto his side to look up at her, keenly aware of his proximity to her vagina.

She let out a big breath, then looked down on him. “I think I drank too much,” she said, “And I know this is probably a dream, but it was a good one. Leaning back, she closed her eyes.

He remained still a moment, not sure what to do, afraid to disturb her lest she grab him again. His whole body felt battered by the intensity of the interaction. He tried to stand, but collapsed when his legs buckled beneath him. Slowly, more carefully, he brought himself to his feet, his calves screaming agony, already showing signs of bruising where she had held him. He could not slip beneath her knees to escape the corral made by her crossed legs. Placing a hand on her ankle, he glanced back up at her face, her eyes were still closed. Climbing onto her ankle, he walked up her leg until he could cross over to the other leg and drop down to the bed. Suddenly the whole bed shook and he was knocked from his feet as Hannah rolled onto her side and stretched her legs out. He narrowly avoided being caught beneath her as she turned. Scrambling forward, he came to the edge of the bed. The distance to the floor seemed so far down. He looked back to the enormous reclining woman then to the floor. Frowning, he knelt down and grabbed a handful of her bedspread. Lowering himself over the side, he climbed slowly down, the muscles in his arms burning by the time he reached the hem of quilt. Looking down, it was still fifteen or twenty feet to the floor. Hanging only by his arms, he let go. When he hit the ground, his left ankle exploded with a white haze of anguish as he landed. Rolling onto his side, he grabbed at his injured foot wincing in pain. The bed beside him shook. Looking up, he saw her swing her legs off the bed and suddenly her right foot was descending rapidly directly over top of him. Letting go of his sprained ankle, he tried to dive out of the way to avoid the massive foot but it came too fast pinning his left leg to the floor in the gap between the big toe and ball of her right foot. There was a significant amount of pain and the pressure bearing down was enough to immobilize him. Unable to extract his leg from beneath her, he gritted his teeth to keep from yelping. When she shifted her weight forward to rise to standing the pain in his leg magnified exponentially and then she was gone as she moved across the floor. One ankle sprained, the other leg almost crushed, he wanted to weep. Pushing himself up, he tried to stand but collapsed back to the floor. The leg that had been pinned throbbed mercilessly and his ankle ached. The sounds of her footfalls returning toward the room spurred him to action. Knowing there was no way he could get across the floor and out of her room without being accidently trampled or seen, he pulled himself under her bed. He watched her feet approaching then vanish as she climbed back onto her bed. The bed creaking under the pressure of her weight. He waited a few moments before peering out from his concealment. Testing his injured ankle and leg, he doubted he could make the journey all the way back to Sophie’s room. Surveying possible places to wait out the night under Hannah’s bed, near the foot of the bed he espied a pair of high heeled leather boots, one lying on its side, the spiked heels longer than he was tall. Getting to his feet, grimacing at the effort to remain standing, he hobbled toward the boots, figuring it was unlikely she might be wearing them anytime soon. The exertion just to get to the boots left him breathless and sweaty. Climbing into the boot to the sole, he curled up in the darkness and tried to sleep, wondering how he would explain his absence to Sophie.

Sophie and the good doctor

After a long day, the re-calculations complete, Sophie tapped on Dr. Featherstone’s door, the thought of maybe spending some time with Theo when she got home putting a smile on her face.

“Come in Sophie,” said the doctor from behind her desk.

Sophie entered the office and sat down in the chair. “All of the sequences have been re-coded as per your specifications. I ran them through twice just to be sure,” she said.

Dr. Featherstone smiled and nodded. “So let’s cut to the chase,” she said, pivoting the computer monitor so Sophie could see it.

Sophie frowned, unsure of what the doctor meant. Then the footage from the night of the accident came on. Sophie closed her eyes, she knew she was in big trouble.

“Let me reassure you when I spoke to you yesterday, I was being genuine. I’m not looking to vilify you, strip your scholarships or funding away. I just want to help get to the bottom of this and find out what happened so we can continue our research. I guess my first question is, who is the young man in the video? The man who activated the GCR?” asked the doctor, tone understanding.

“Theo,” Sophie said softly.

“Boyfriend?”

Sophie nodded.

“Are they all still okay? Has there been any further alterations in size, positive or negative?”

Still looking down, Sophie shrugged. “All three are fine, except for the reduction of course. I think they’ve stabilized at approximately 1/16th or 17th normal size.”

Olivia nodded. “Where are you currently housing them at the moment?”

Sophie remained silent a moment. “At my house,” she replied.

“You’re roommates with Grace, right? Has she been helping out as well?”

Sophie remained silent.

“Sophie,” she started, “We are not at cross purposes here,” she said sympathetically. “You’ve been acting as an intermediary between Dr. Brauer and myself and there may be some delays in the exchange of information which might be critical. Every moment we wait, the greater the possibility the situation will be irreparable. Now, I have access to some resources that you don’t and maybe with those we could fix the situation a little sooner. I honestly don’t care if Grace is involved, I just thought it’s an awful burden to carry a secret this size all by yourself.”

Sophie nodded.

Dr. Featherstone smiled. “With time is of the essence as our motivation, I would very much like to see them if I may?” she asked. Sophie agreed.

Leaving the lab, the pair drove to the house on Chesawick Street in Dr. Featherstone’s car, “Hans has been documenting all physiological data?” Olivia asked.

“He’s been monitoring data for him and Clayton. Dr. Brauer and Theo aren’t getting along,” Sophie explained.

Olivia laughed softly, “That’s because Hans is an asshole,” she commented.

Sophie turned her head away to prevent the doctor from seeing her smile.

“It’s okay, he knows what he is, you don’t have to hide the fact you agree,” Olivia said.

“He is a little unpolished,” she conceded.

Olivia knew the house, but she let Sophie point it out. Parking the car, the doctor let Sophie lead the way. Entering the house, Sophie took her up to her bedroom. Entering the room, she frowned and clicked on the light. “Theo,” she said, walking over to the desk and looking for him. Dr. Featherstone following in behind. The crease in Sophie’s brow deepened as her frown grew. “Theo?” she repeated, tone concerned. Panic touched her as she dropped to her hands and knees to look around the floor under the desk wondering if somehow maybe he had fallen.

“Theo!” she said, flicking a worried look back at the doctor.

Olivia frowned.

“He was here, I swear!” Sophie protested, climbing back to her feet and pointing at the makeshift bed in the top drawer of the desk.

Olivia frowned. “What about Hans and Clayton?”

“They’re in Grace’s room,” Sophie answered, eyes scanning around her room for any sign of Theo.

“Let’s go see them,” suggested the doctor.

“It’s just that…” Sophie said, voice trailing off, heart filled with worry.

“Hans and Clayton,” repeated Olivia.

Sophie led the doctor out and down the hall to Grace’s room, rapping a couple of time on the thick door.

The door opened, “Dr. Featherstone!” blurted Grace, eyes wide at the surprise.

Stepping into the room, Dr. Featherstone turned to Grace, “Where are they?”

Grace pointed to her tall dresser before looking at Sophie, a questioning expression unseen by the doctor.

“Is Theo in here with you?” Sophie asked, hopeful.

Grace shook her head.

Dr. Featherstone walked over to the open dresser drawer.

“Hello Hans,” she said, a smile curling up at the corners of her mouth as she looked down upon the two men. “Clayton.” Though reluctant to admit it, seeing Hans reduced to mere toy size filled her with a certain sense of triumphant glee. Her interactions with Clayton had always been cordial and professional.

Dr. Brauer looked up at Dr. Featherstone, “Ah Olivia, I had not expected to see you here,” Hans said.

“I’m sure you didn’t, but I am here now,” she said politely.

Hans nodded, “Sehr gut,” he said, “With you involved, we can devote more time to finding a remedy for this situation.”

“Of course,” she said, “Had you included me in this after it happened, I might have been of more use.” Turning to the two girls, “I’ll need all of their possessions including documentation and equipment. I’ll be taking them now.”

“What about Theo?” Sophie asked.

“I would have preferred to take all of them with me, but at least with Hans and Clayton we can move forward. When you find your boyfriend we can get him to the lab,” Olivia offered.

Grace unplugged the laptop and collected the cords, while Sophie gathered up the other assorted paperwork.

Reaching down, Olivia picked up Clayton and put him in her purse before doing the same with Hans. Turning to the two girls, she said, “I am sure Dr. Brauer has emphasized the necessity for discretion, but let me remind you, if word gets out about the incident, the consequences could be quite severe, especially for our little friends and colleagues.”

Grace and Sophie both nodded and helped get Dr. Brauer’s gear to Dr. Featherstone’s car.

Watching a moment as the doctor pulled away, Sophie turned to Grace, “Come help me check my room please, let’s see if we can find Theo.”

Grace nodded and together the returned to Sophie’s room, spending the next hour searching high and low, calling out for him but there was no trace of the little man.

It looked like a burglar had tossed the room. Looking to Grace, “I just wish I knew where he is,” Sophie commented, folding her arms under her breasts, an expression of worry written all over her face.