Naomi was elated finally to be getting out of Records.  She had been there just under a year, but it had seemed like five.  It was the dullest job she had ever had, though she had only ever had two jobs, both thanks to Joan.

Joan had been her best friend in high school.  Joan had had more popular friends, including boys, but none had been as enduring as Naomi.  Joan's family had money, but Joan was determined to make her own way.  Naomi admired that, and when Joan got a part-time job as a waitress at the local Outback Steakhouse, Naomi joined her.

She liked working as a waitress, particularly when Joan had the same shift, but the hours were unreliable, and it wasn't much of a career path.  It got worse when Joan quit to work at the HMO downtown.  For the first time, Naomi took stock of her prospects and decided she needed some more transferable skills.

She enrolled at the local community college and told her course advisor that she wanted to get a job where she could use her people skills, like Human Resources.  He put her in classes called things like Teambuilding and Identifying Competencies.  They were simultaneously mystifying and banal, but even though Naomi could grind the grades, she quickly found herself undermotivated.

On the night before the last day to withdraw from her courses without academic penalty, Joan called Naomi and told her she know about an opening in Records.  She applied the next morning.

Naomi worked on a different floor than Joan, but she got to see her at lunch and they rode the train together.  Even better: Naomi's cube was next to Rick's.

Tall, blond, handsome in a Midwestern cornfed way, Rick instantly charmed Naomi.  He had an easy smile and self-assurance, and Naomi wanted both.  On their first date, she learned that Rick's parents had been supporting him while he was at the university, but they cut him off when he dropped out during his first year.  Working in Records was his only job besides a paper route in junior high.  He expected his parents to cave in and give him back his trust fund sooner or later.

Two months after Naomi and Rick started going out, Rick's prediction came true.  His mother called in tears and Rick played her like a fiddle.  Back at the teat, he quit his job the next day.  He spent his time running a couple of websites and playing video games.  They were still together, but Naomi insisted on keeping her own apartment.

***

At the end of her last day in Records, Naomi had just finished packing her personal items into a banker's box when she looked up to see Joan.  Not quite 5'6", Joan's figure filled much of the cubicle's "doorway."  Her heavy breasts lolled to one side as she leaned against the cube frame.  Her beleaguered blouse struggled to contain her generous muffin top, while her jeans encased a bottom ample enough to swamp a jet-ski.  Rick once called Joan "Rubenesque," one of those words guys used when they were embarrassed by their boners.  Naomi was always struck more by Joan's large round eyes popping out from her friendly bronze face and outshining her wavy brown hair.

"Leave that stuff there," said Joan.  "They'll take it up when they switch your nameplate tomorrow."

Naomi stood up to grab her coat.  She had maybe an inch on Joan, but her frame was much more delicate.  She flared a bit at the hips, but that was it.  Her narrow eyes were usually shielded by large eyeglasses, making her earnest face seem even wider.  Her long straight brown hair was darker than Joan's and reached the small of her back.  Her default expression was one of concentration, but she was quick with a charitable smile.

They took the elevator together and walked toward the station, where they waited for the train as they did most evenings.

"Are you ready for the exciting world of Processing?" asked Joan.

"Anything's better than Records," replied Naomi.  "What do you know about Stefan?"

"Work-wise, I only had one project with him.  He's smart and easy to work with.  You'll like him."

"So, better than Phil, you mean," said Naomi, referring to her supervisor when she started in Records.

"Way better."

Naomi looked up as they walked, wondering how she should conduct herself for her first meeting with Stefan.

"One thing you gotta know about Stefan," said Joan, "but don't say anything about it.  To anyone."

"Sure," said Naomi, apprehensive.

"Right after I first started, there was the company Christmas party.  I ain't never seen such a spread of free booze.  I've been to Irish wedding receptions that were drier than that shindig.  Anyway, it must have been a rare experience for Stefan too, because he was soaked to the gills."

"Stefan?" said Naomi, cresftallen.

"Yup.  He even tried to grab my ass."

He must have been shitfaced if he missed that, thought Naomi.

"What a pig," said Naomi.  "If I wanted that I could go back to the Outback."

"No, it's cool," said Joan.  "He apologized the next day, and he said the booze was no excuse."

"That must have been awkward."

"Kind of.  I've seen lots of crude drunks, but never in this kind of workplace.  Anyway, he's been a gentleman ever since."

"Don't tell me his eyes don't wander."

"Yeah, but so what?  Everyone looks."

Naomi turned to face a guy standing about ten feet away from them on the train platform.  He averted his gaze rather inartfully, and she sighed.  She wished Joan hadn't told her that anecdote.

By the time she had to get off the train, however, she had resolved to ignore Joan's little barb.  She was moving on, intent on discovery, more of the world and of herself.

***

The next day, Naomi found her new desk and saw that Joan had been right again; her stuff and nameplate had been duly transferred.  Her reflex was to settle into her new cube, update her email signature and reorganize her office supplies until someone came along and told her what to do.  She sat down and started to log in, but then she was so struck by her own fecklessness that she pushed back from the desk and stood up, looking around.

She had already scouted out Stefan's office, and now she could see the door ajar, the overhead light on.  Before she had left home that morning, Naomi had fretted over her wardrobe for fifteen minutes before saying "screw it" and grabbing a top and pants more or less at random.  Now she was regretting her shirt's frilly collar, which was refusing to lie flat.  She flipped the circuit breaker in herself again and launched herself towards the door.

Stefan was standing behind his desk, slightly hunched forward, so intent on reading something on his monitor that he had neglected to finish sitting down.  Naomi didn't say a word, but he nevertheless noticed the air she displaced, and looked up with an expression of mild surprise, perhaps even wonder.

"Hi, I'm Naomi" she said with a gushy smile.

"Most definitely," he said, looking astutely into her face.  He stood up straight and inhaled deeply, and Naomi wondered if he might have recently over-exerted himself; he was a little overweight and possibly unused to exercise.  Keeping his eyes on hers, he slowly walked around his desk and extended his hand.  His grip was prolonged but gentle.  He wore a class ring, but no wedding ring.  "Welcome aboard."

Naomi thought Stefan was about four inches taller than her, and a great deal heavier, but he carried it well and his clothes fit.  So many people were in denial about their actual size and kept trying to squeeze into their old clothes from a slimmer era.  Stefan's hair was short and neat and his face was clean-shaven.  His jaw rarely moved, but she found herself noting every time it did.

"What should I start with?" she offered.

His smile broadened.  "We're going to drop you in the deep end on your first day.  Outstanding reconciliations."

Naomi nodded decisively.  "All right," she said, "I'm up for anything."

***

At the end of her first day, Naomi was drained.  She hadn't been expected to do anything completely out of her experience, but it was all still new, and she desperately wanted to make a good first impression.

Fortunately, Stefan noticed how quickly she picked up on the details of the procedure, and he even acknowledged that she had figured out a way to save time by pursuing two separate investigations concurrently.  She took the treasure of that moment home and polished it all evening.

The next day, Stefan invited her to lunch as a welcome celebration.  At the cafe, Stefan ordered a club sandwich, and since Naomi had been there before with Joan she didn't hesitate to order the pulled pork she liked last time.

While they waited for their food, Stefan asked about her background.  Somehow he already knew that Joan was responsible for Naomi joining the firm, and he steered the conversation toward Naomi's career goals.

"Don't worry," he prefaced, "I won't be offended if you don't see yourself still in Processing five years from now."

Naomi was relieved; she always hated that question in interviews.  "I wouldn't say that, exactly," she replied.  "I'm just open to new opportunities.  I gotta keep my mind active.  There has to be a puzzle, a challenge."

"Not a lot of challenge in Records," he prompted.

"Definitely not," she said.  Unless you counted staying off Phil's radar, she thought ruefully.

"Yeah, in this economy the average worker can expect to make at least three major career changes.  Not everyone appreciates that."

"My parents sure don't," she said.

Their sandwiches arrived.  Naomi was happy to stop talking and tucked into her lunch.  She was almost half-finished with her sandwich when she looked up to see Stefan looking at her.  Something about his expression stopped her mid-chew.

"What?" she asked.

"Forgive the stereotype," he said, "but I haven't met that many young women who enjoy meat, I mean, truly take pleasure from it, particularly on their lunch hour."

Naomi nodded, swallowing.  "I know what you mean," she said.  "They're usually all 'Gimme a salad, with dressing on the side.'  It's like a contest to see who can hate food the most."

"Exactly."

"Not me.  I'll never apologize for having what I like."

They moved on to her pets and vacation dreams, small talk lurching along until the server brought the check.  A thought struck her, and before she could reconsider, she blurted out, "It'll be my treat next time."

If he was surprised, Stefan didn't show it.  "Deal," he said.  "Where?"

Giving into the moment, Naomi asked "Do you like sushi?"

Stefan smiled.  "I'm afraid I've never tried it," he said, "but I'd appreciate the guidance of a connoisseur."

"Okay," she said.  "Same time next week, I'll show you my favorite place around here.  It's only two more blocks."

"Great," he said, "it's a date."

She was about to add that the restaurant didn't make sushi as good as her mother did, but she stopped herself in time and just smiled as they got up and returned to the office.

On the train home that night, Joan was less than supportive.  "Are you falling for him?" she asked skeptically.

"No, no," replied Naomi.  "I just want to have a comfortable working relationship, and I want to know what he knows."

"What do you think he wants?"

"Why can't he want the same thing?"

Joan just rolled her eyes, and Naomi turned to look out the window.

That weekend, Rick surprised her with a trip to Broadway.  They went shopping, saw a band play in a club, and he even bought her some shoes.  Mommy's check must have cleared, she thought.  When it came time to look for someplace to have dinner, Naomi glanced at the trendy sushi place across the street and chuckled.  She still remembered the deer-in-the-headlights look on Rick's face the first time she suggested that.

***

A week passed and Naomi continued to rise to meet the challenges of properly billing other insurance companies for the correct reimbursement.  Naomi finally let herself believe she was earning Stefan's confidence, and she wondered if she wanted to try running the Processing department one day.

On Friday afternoon she had found herself with an unusually high level of energy.  She thought she could get a headstart the next week by doing the first stage of all the remaining claims in one batch, but it would still take her past five o'clock.

She texted Joan not to wait for her at the train, but for some reason she told Joan she had to buy a birthday gift for her mother.  It was true that her mother's birthday was coming up, but Naomi didn't expect to spend more than fifteen minutes gift-shopping online.

Of course she noticed that Stefan's light was still on.  She powered through the batch of claims, fully expecting him to saunter past and ask what a nice young woman like herself was doing working so late on a Friday, but he never arrived.  She saved all the documents then bundled the hard files for the next step on Monday.

His light was still on.

Of course, she hadn't actually seen him in the office after five.  Maybe he left early, went to happy hour somewhere?  No, the motion sensor would have timed the light out by now.  Could the custodian be in there?  No, they don't clean on Friday nights.

This is ridiculous, she thought.  She stood up and walked into Stefan's office as if she were expected.  He was in his chair, watching some kind of video on his computer, which he paused or at least muted when he saw her stride in.

"What's a nice young man like yourself doing working so late on a Friday?" she asked smoothly.

He grinned and sat back in his chair.  "No one's called me 'young man' in a long time."

She realized she had never made a conscious attempt to guess his age.  He couldn't be over thirty-five, she thought.  A bit deflated that he hadn't asked why she was still in the office, she slowly orbited behind his desk, clearly angling to see what he had been watching.  He didn't move at all except to track her movement with his bright eyes.

She stepped next to his chair and she heard him inhale deeply as she leaned toward his monitor.  A surprised snort escaped her; it displayed a video of a demonstration of proper sushi preparation.

She turned to him with a look of wonder.  "Why are you watching this?"

"I like to know how to do things the right way," he said with a shrug.

She turned back to the monitor and absently sat on his desk, and he allowed himself to watch her ass settle on his desk blotter.  The video wasn't even from one of those dumb celebrity chef shows; it was a documentary in Japanese with English subtitles.

Naomi crossed her arms in front of herself and looked into Stefan's face.  Many times in her life she had thought about learning sushi prep, but she had always associated it with accepting another layer of deference to her mother.  Stefan had just gone onto YouTube.

Tilting her head back in appraisal, Naomi noticed that Stefan had started fidgeting with his ring, but otherwise he was completely still.  She suddenly wanted to know what it would be like to touch his hand.  She reached out with her right hand, she heard his breath catch, then smoothly but swiftly he caught her hand with both of his.

His palms felt dry but extremely warm, and instantly she wanted him to keep holding her hand for as long as he liked.  He swallowed and smiled.

"Would you like to see a magic trick?" he asked with absurd delicacy.

Naomi deflated a bit.  Was he truly that nervous?  Well, regardless of his ultimate intentions, she wasn't going to pull back and go home just yet.  "Sure," she said knowingly.

Stefan removed his ring and pressed it into her palm.  She saw that it didn't have any engravings like a typical class ring; just a large, irregular stone.  He closed her fingers around the ring and held her by the wrist.

He started speaking some silly nonsense words, but a strange prickly sensation began in her palm and started to creep up her arm.  She looked into his eyes and found the hunger she had been hoping for, and she let her arm relax.  Okay, she thought, this better be good.

With the index and middle fingers of his free hand, Stefan tapped the back of her closed fist four times, chanting something like "toon" with each tap.

He released her wrist, and her world rushed away from her.  The ring ballooned in her hand and she quickly dropped it as it became too large and heavy to hold.  An enormous tent of cotton collapsed on top of her, and she scrambled to find a way out.  Then she noticed she was somehow naked, and that's when she started to panic.

The cotton tent lifted away, and she looked up into gigantic version of Stefan's face staring down at her with the same desire.  She glanced about frantically, starting to hyperventilate and trying not to believe what her eyes told her.  She was standing naked on Stefan's desk, just over four inches tall.

Desperately trying to fashion an explanation, Naomi's eyes darted to Stefan's ring, now subjectively thirty feet away on the desk blotter where she had dropped it.  Stefan followed her gaze and deftly collected the ring and put it back on before she could take a tiny step toward it.

He sat up straight and loomed over her.  My God, this can't be happening, she thought.  He's enormous, like a living office building.  He inhaled slowly, and she watched his chest swell like an approaching thunderhead.

She spotted his hand coming for her out of the corner of her eye, but she didn't have time to do anything but hunch down and cover her head.  His warm fingers wrapped around her like prehensile tree trunks and pressed her to his hot palm.

Her stomach dropped as he effortlessly lifted her off the desk, gathering her collapsed giant clothes with her other hand.  Then vertigo as he stood and lurched across his office to close and lock the door.

Returning to his chair, Stefan raised Naomi to his immense face, her head and arms protruding from the top of his fist while her shins and feet dangled below.  He turned her face down and pressed the nape of her neck under his nostrils, then drew the wind past her throat as he breathed her scent in.

He sniffed her once more, then brought her upright and lowered her before his chest.  Tilting his hand back until she was reclined forty-five degrees and looking up at him, he opened his fingers.  She immediately put her arms out to hold onto his thumb and his index finger for support, not bothering to cover her privates.

"What did you do to me?" she shrieked.

He licked his giant lips, and she saw his face clouded by raw appetite.  He brought her lower and closer to him, just below his sternum.

"Do you think you could fit in here now?" he rumbled, her viscera clenching at his godlike voice.

"No!" she cried.  "I don't want to go in there!"

Naomi would remember the grin that came over Stefan's giant face for the rest of her life.  "It's not about what you want," he thundered.  "Not at all."

He brought her back up to his face as she made a futile attempt to scramble up out of his hand, presumably to leap to her death on the floor below.  His irresistible thumb clamped down on her back and her arms flailed as he tilted his palm out from under her and guided her kicking legs into her mouth.

She gasped first in terror and then in wonder as his mouth became her whole world.  His hot breath enveloped her entirely, stifling any thought of escape.  Every twitch of his mighty jaw electrified her because at any time it could have brought her to a crushing end.  The sharp stones of his teeth raked her tender flesh and rattled her brittle bones.

But before and beyond all of these was his tongue.  Slick and sinuous, tidal and trembling, it reached every last part of her body with its silky pads.  It pinned her to the roof of his mouth, it threw her ass underneath his molars, it snaked its nuzzling tip between her labia.  It was the ultimate avatar of his insatiable desire.

At first her head and shoulders remained outside his mouth, his pliant lips rolling indominatably over her clavicle and neck as he swirled her body about with his tongue.  His smallest groan of pleasure reverberated around her a hundredfold.  Then she gave a short shriek just before he sucked her entirely inside.

She managed to keep her head and neck clear of his blade-like incisors, but her arms and legs often found themselves gripped between his teeth, compressed to the bone before being released and savored by his ever-shifting tongue.  No light was admitted, and the only fresh air came from his sinus when he aerated his taste buds.

More than his terrible teeth, Naomi dreaded the well leading to Stefan's stomach, for that is where he had threatened to send her.  Every fluctuation of his epiglottis sparked her fear that his tormenting tongue would finally convulse her backwards and down to her demise.

I don't want to die, she screamed in her head, not like this.  She desperately pulled her limbs in close, away from both his teeth and his throat, but his all-conquering tongue would always reposition her as it pleased.

Naomi finally realized that, ultimately, her attempts at self-preservation were futile.  If Stefan wanted to swallow her, she would be swallowed.  She didn't stop evading his esophagus, but her breathing steadied and she began to marvel at her own helplessness.

How had he done this to her?  One minute she was pitying his inability to pursue her, the next he was sucking on her like a lemondrop.  He had removed her from every experience she had ever understood, literally reducing her life to an unwinnable contest with his tongue.  She resented the unfairness of this ridiculous fate, but she also began to appreciate the fact that he was simultaneously licking both her face and her cunt.

She stretched out her limbs and embraced his tongue with a passion, wrapping her tiny arms and legs around the slippery muscle and burying her face in the pliant pink.  Just as she started to grind her crotch into the peak of her bucking mount, it slammed her into the roof of his mouth, the hard palate scraping her skull and her ass.

I won't let go, she thought, as he slid her back and forth, savoring her struggle.  If you want me down there, she sneered, you'll have to do it yourself.  The wind was knocked out of her as his tongue compressed her further.

Even with all the pressure and tumult, Naomi's inner ear detected a dramatic shift in the orientation of Stefan's head.  She had no air in her lungs with which to scream as his tongue convulsed and effortlessly shook free of her grip.  A brief drop, and she found herself lying cold and aching in his giant palm.

Naomi looked up into Stefan's eyes, great hazel suns that shone down on her in smug satisfaction.  She knew his power over her hadn't diminished a bit, but she found it curiously comforting to at least be able to see his face.  Well big boy, she thought, what now?

He licked his lips again, then gently lowered her to the floor next to his feet.  She didn't dare move, so he slowly tilted his hand until she slid off and found her feet on the hard chair-roller mat.

Hunched forward in his chair, Stefan loomed over Naomi.  She couldn't take him in all at once; she searched his huge face for some sign of his intentions, but she kept darting glances at his car-sized feet, every scuffle of which sent vibrations to her through the mat.

He brought his hands together and again removed his ring and extended it to her.  She studied his face a moment more, then reached out with both arms to take the steering-wheel-sized ring.

"Hold the stone against your skin," thundered Stefan from above.  Naomi turned the ring and pressed the melon-sized gemstone to her abdomen.

He reached his hand down behind her and gently spoke, "Only the person who lays the curse may lift it."

She knew she should be paying very close attention to his every word, but all she could remember was the final word, intoned with each tap on her back of his log-sized index finger, "hoop-hoop-hoop-hoop."

She felt butterflies in her stomach and the ring started to dwindle in her hands, and Stefan sat back, his eyes widening in half-surprise as he watched her grow back to her normal size.  She was no longer coated in his spit, but she was still naked, and she put one hand down on the desk for support.

Was that just a dream? she wondered.  No, her muscles remembered every contusion quite vividly, and her clothes remained behind the desk where Stefan had piled them.  She started to cover her privates, then saw Stefan sitting with his hand out.  What did he want?  Oh yes.  The ring.

She brought both her hands to hold the ring delicately so she could feel all its features while she examined it, although she was careful not to touch the stone again.  The gem was deep amber in color, and the mounting was secure but inefficient.  The gold plating was also poor, the base metal showing through at the sharp rim.

Stefan had sat back and crossed his arms, but if he had ogled her while she inspected the ring, he had drunk his fill before she again looked him in the eyes.

Still holding the ring tightly, she asked "How does it work?"

"Magic," he said blithely.

She cocked a skeptical look at him.  Somehow he managed to look embarrassed, and he sheepishly extended his hand again.

What levers did she have over Stefan?  She was standing naked in his office, and by any definition he had just sexually assaulted her.  No one would believe the truth of course, but she could make up something more plausible.  If she ran from his office, naked and screaming, she could probably find a witness to her distress.

But she knew she wouldn't do that.  She never was a very good liar, and that kind of detailed lie would have to hold up for months of professional scrutiny.  She also knew that if she turned on Stefan now, she would never learn how the ring worked or see its power again.  Most puzzling of all, he could have easily disposed of her and instead he had restored her to her normal size.  She had to know why.

With one hand covering her crotch, Naomi placed the ring into his waiting palm.  She then covered her chest and asked "Would you please excuse me while I get dressed?"

Stefan gave a courteous smile and nodded, then got up and left his office, closing the door behind him.  Naomi stole up to the door and quickly bolted it, then returned to her clothes.

When Naomi finally emerged from his office, she found Stefan sitting in a nearby chair, hunched over his phone, showing no trace of having recently imperiled a co-worker with supernatural powers.  From his phone's chirps, she even recognized the addictive game that held him in thrall.

Naomi knew that if she just left for the weekend now, she would be tempted to pretend the whole thing never happened.  She had to keep hold of this thing, somehow.  She slowly approached Stefan, who remained engaged with his phone.  Then she took a seat about ten feet away, with a desk in between them.

When he didn't look up for a minute, she asked quietly but clearly, "Where did you get the ring?"

He put his phone away and looked at her judiciously.  "I inherited it."

"How did you learn how it works?"

He stood up and exhaled.  "The hard way," he said, and walked back into his office and closed the door.