Three weeks oughta do it.  Just long enough since my last day not to associate me with the intrusion, and not so long that they'll have moved the prototype to a more secure location.  And nobody remembers a temp that long after their assignment has ended.

These tech companies act all grown up with their corporate mission statements and elaborate security protocols, but it's all a scam.  They scam the customer with phony quality control and they scam the shareholders with bullshit due diligence.  All it takes is one cost-cutting asshole to expose the whole rotten edifice.

No one in my department even knew what it was when it arrived.  Just put it on the shelf above the out-dated monitors, they told me.  I recognized the originating lab as soon as I saw the shipping label, and I looked up the project code at the first opportunity.  I'd been reading about this thing for months, but no one else seemed to realize what it could do.

I only temped for them for four months, but it took less than a week to see how severely corporate terror had deformed the autonomy and imagination of everyone working there.  Every conversation was stilted with corp-speak, and every email was as carefully tailored as a press release.  "Never write anything you wouldn't want to see quoted on Twitter" was the guideline.  Whatever.

I got the assignment because they needed someone to cover for Lori while she went on maternity leave.  In principle, the gig was simple; respond to internal and external requests for data on current and former personnel, subject to corporate privacy and confidentiality policies as well as prevailing local statutory requirements.  Those were all rather straight-foward, but the data was scattered all over a dozen legacy systems acquired through the company's rapid growth, mergers, and spinoffs.

I had exactly four weeks to absorb Lori's specialized knowledge of those systems, less if her imminent daughter decided on an early arrival.  Fortunately, I'm a quick study and Lori was a patient trainer.  While I realize that women in their third trimester have more pressing concerns than turning heads, I nevertheless take no small amount of visual enjoyment from their ungainly bulk.

Lori's—and therefore my—supervisor Ingrid had been with the company almost since its founding, when it had a different name.  She was so humorless that it took me almost a week before I tried cracking a joke with her.  She was dour but fair, and eventually she stopped double-checking every last response I compiled.

My detailed knowledge of the company's security protocols came from Alice, the department's executive assistant.  She got me my badge on my first day and gave me the grand tour, pointing out exactly where I needed to have my badge with me and (more importantly) how I could get in without it.  With an ass like a pair of Virginia hams, a matching rack for ballast, a face like Phil Silvers, all topped by a mop of bronze curls, Alice cut quite a swath through the cube farm.  She had an easy confidence about how everything worked in that place, but even she was stopped cold by one of Ingrid's doubtful silences.

I arrived on campus in the same manner as scores of others did every day, threading between the buildings on a fixie.  Didn't need to lift the gate in the garage, and no one looked twice at me in my hoodie and ski goggles.  The maintenance door was still as unlatched as it was the last time I saw it three weeks ago, and there was more than one badged employee in the morning herd headed up to the floor where my former assignment was located.

Once out of the elevator, I had to alternate between stealth and speed on my way to the storage room.  Eventually someone was going to object to my obscured face, and I need to be equipped by then.

As I rounded the corner by the storage room door, I saw Eliza coming in the opposite direction.  Tall and winsome, Eliza was always complaining about her teenage son's friends hanging around her house.  If my friend's mom sported the same jeans and sheer T-shirts that Eliza often wore to the office, I'd hang around their house, too.

I tried to look casual as I slipped into the storage room.  The prototype was on the fourth row of shelves from the front, and I had to remove my goggles to read the shipping label.  I had shoved the box to the back, and it was still there, but it took forever to get out of the box and then to find the power stud.

A cross between a post-war toaster and a large hand-warmer, when I finally got my fingers around both grips the prototype resembled nothing so much as a sci-fi wrist shackle for an absurdly strong alien species.  The vibration coming through the grips indicated it had just reached full charge when I heard the storage room door open.  "Hello?" called Eliza.

She couldn't see me from the door, but I could hear her walking past the shelves in my direction.  I scrambled to find the prototype's trigger.  I had no idea how to find the setting.  The device that looked nothing like a weapon, so Eliza, who had followed an unidentified person into a secluded area, lacked any reflex to duck when I triggered the prototype.

I felt the vibrations and there was a metallic wrenching noise.  When I looked up, Eliza had collapsed or had been knocked to the floor, lying on her back.  As she struggled to re-orient herself and push herself up with her arms behind her, I estimated her new height as just under three feet tall.

Letting go of the grip with the trigger, I frantically twisted the prototype around, looking for any display or dials.  It recharged in less than thirty seconds, but it seemed like forever before I found the green "50" readout and the + and - toggles.  I repeatedly stabbed the - stud until the readout was at "12."

Eliza had gotten to her feet, figured out what had happened to her and, most importantly, realized that she could still reach the door handle.  Running for the door, she looked like a weirdly skinny grade schooler.

I raised the device and triggered it again, this time watching the effect as it happened.  There must have been a kinetic element to the process, as I could see Eliza propelled forward off her feet as she shrunk.  The prototype was still humming as I slung it into the duffle bag I had brought.  Then I pulled my messenger bag around to my side and stepped over to stand above the tiny Eliza.

She must have felt my footsteps through the thickly-carpeted floor, and her first action after being reduced to six percent of her original size was to roll over onto her back and raise her arms as if to ward me off.  Gazing down upon the mouse-sized woman between my feet, her eyes wide with terror, time seemed to slow to a crawl.  My mouth fell open and my limbs felt light.  All other sounds faded away as I strained to hear, "No!  Stay away from me!"

I lowered myself onto one knee and hesitantly reached for Eliza, who had finally started to get back on her feet.  She backed up a single step before my hungry fingers wrapped around her and pressed her to my waiting palm.  So warm!  And soft!  My thumb grazed her belly and up to her tits.  Her tiny arms vainly tried to push my thumb away, and then she looked up at me in outrage.  She saw the desire in my eyes, and I drew a self-satisfied breath as I watched her realize her fate.

I wanted to savor the moment, but my plan depended upon speed.  I lifted the flap of my messenger bag and let Eliza drop inside with a gratifying yelp of alarm.  I toggled the size percentage down to "6," fit my goggles back over my eyes, and stepped back into the hallway.

Heading back toward my former department, I ran into Lori talking to Todd.  My only previous encounter with Todd involved another temp, some kid still in school, taking a full load while also working 37.5 hours a week in that place.  Somebody had brought in donuts that day and left them in the lunchroom for everyone.  Todd had apparently appointed himself to the donut police, because when this kid took a donut after lunch, Todd called him out for taking two donuts in the short span of five hours.

Todd's self-superiority only helped him stand still in admonishment as I triggered the prototype on him and Lori.  Their cries made me smile as I stooped to gather them up into my bag and I fell into the rhythm of my raid.

Lacking true offices, most employees in that building had to use conference rooms for private discussions, and Ingrid and Alice had apparently just concluded one such meeting when I encountered them leaving the room just outside the cube farm.  To her credit, Alice immediately appreciated that I posed some sort of clear threat and she turn to run for her desk phone and security alarm.  Fortunately, the prototype's beam was faster than those thundering calves, and I soon held Alice and Ingrid pressed together in my grip.

Alice's gallop and the prototype's whine had disturbed the ambient corporate drone, and the whole department knew something was up, but they were still no better prepared for me.  I settled first on Molly, Jack, and Brett in their cubes near my old spot.  Brett was quick enough to try to hide underneath the drawers of his desk, but I evicted him with a ruler I found in one of the drawers.

When I stood back up, I was charged by Steve and the two other guys who work for him in the offices along the south wing.  All ready to take a bullet for the firm, they had apparently neglected to sign up for the training module on How To Stop A Bad Guy With A Shrink Ray.

My bag was almost full, but I wasn't quite ready to make my getaway.  Gloria had the cube opposite my old one, and I had probably dreamed of holding her tiny wriggling form more than any other in that place.  Originally from Brazil, Gloria had short black hair and wide hips, and even though she was married she never failed to flirt with me.  I'm sure she thought of me as safe.

Gloria wasn't anywhere to be seen in the department, and I stopped myself before lifting the bag flap and asking Alice if Gloria was in that day.  I crept back toward the lunchroom, steeling myself for disappointment.  I had already reaped a good crop, including that knockout Molly.  Then the door to the women's room opened and out stepped Gloria.

So help me, she gave me a grin as wide as the Amazon.

"How good it is to see you...uh..." she trailed off, struggling to remember my name.  I snorted and triggered the prototype.

I plucked the shrunken brasileira from the carpet, brought her close to return her grin, then slipped her into the bag with the others.  Googles-and-hoodie time.

I kept my gait casual as I descended the stairs.  I only passed one person, who neither paused nor scrutinized me.  Reaching my bike, I took the time to doubly secure the bags containing the prototype and my catch.  It seemed like every row of cars in the garage had to exude a vehicle to impede my exit, but finally I was on the open road, no pursuing security guards in golf carts in sight.

Back at my place, I was feeling a bit full of myself, settling the prototype on the couch and the bag containing the shrunken people on the dining table.  I divested myself of the goggles and hoodie, then grabbed the messenger bag by the strap and abruptly lifted it, pausing to take in the tiny muffled cries.

I carried the bag into the bathroom and pulled the shower curtain completely out of the tub.  Conscious of the hard fiberglass surface, I opened the flap and lay the bag in the end of the tub opposite the faucet.

None of my captives so much as poked a head out of the bag, so after about a minute I took the bag by the bottom and slowly spilled the contents out into the tub, smiling at the ensuing sounds of distress.  When I was sure the bag was empty, I set it on the floor and leaned across the tub, one hand on the far ledge, leering down at my guests.

"Welcome," I said, startling them all despite their obvious need for an explanation of their straits.  "Congratulations on being the first human test subjects of this marvelous technology."

Taller than the rest of his colleagues, Jack was used to being a default leader, and he recovered his composure sooner than most.  "Are you insane?" he squeaked up at me. "You could have killed us with that thing!"

I nodded judiciously.  "That's true," I said, "although I think I took greater risk than any of you drones.  After all, it could have exploded in my hands every time I charged it, not to mention the possibility of getting caught."

My former co-workers just stared up, uncomprehendingly, and I'm afraid I got carried away with my pontificating.  "Risk and reward, that's what life is all about, Jacky-boy, and since I took the risk I now intend to take my reward.  To start with, you will all now remove every stitch of clothing."

An anguished sigh rippled through the cluster of tiny people in my bathtub.  Todd stepped forward and, incredibly, lifted his arm and pointed an impertinent finger up at me.  "Forget it, punk!" he chirped.  "We're not doing anything until—"

I pursed my lips as I snatched Todd around his torso and slammed him headfirst into the bathtub wall with a sickening crunch.  I released him immediately and he slid to the bottom of the tub.  Blood started trickling out of his tiny mouth and toward the drain.

There was a shocked gasp, and then Eliza started screaming.  "Knock that off," I growled.

Having a good idea how most quickly to get on with the proceedings, I found Jack with my gaze and nodded in the direction of the tiny hysterical woman.  His shoulders slumped in defeat as he hurried over to Eliza.  He took her by the shoulders and spoke to her softly but forcefully.  She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

"Now then," I said, not giving them a chance to catch their breath, "let's get into those birthday suits."

Watching my tiny former co-workers stare up and witness my resolve was delicious.  One by one, their eyes fell from my face and they started to undress.  Intriguingly, Gloria never stopped looking up at me, even when she stepped out of her tiny panties.  I guess you can't believe everything you hear about Brazilians.

Once everyone was naked, I swept all their tiny clothes into a ziploc bag that I then lay on the counter next to the sink.  More shrieks as I reached back down into the tub to grab the tinies and return them to my satchel one by one, all except Steve and his two toadies.  I fastened the satchel clasp and took it back to the dining room table for the moment.  Then I returned to the bathroom and closed the door.

Back at tub-side, I placed my hands on my hips as I stood over the three tiny men huddled in the corner, trying not to look at Todd's leaking corpse.  While none of the three cube warriors had gone completely to fat, I didn't think they went to the gym together judging from their obvious discomfort with mutual nudity.  No time like the present, I guess.

I squatted down and reached for them.  They tried to scatter, but I quickly gathered all three into my fist, compressing their naked flab together more tightly than a Friday evening bus commute.

"I'm glad you guys joined the party," I said, holding their squirming scrum right below my leering face.  "I have so many plans and not everyone can participate in all of them."

Steve squeaked some profanities at me, but I just smiled as I stood up and tumbled all of them into the bathroom sink.  I took a roll of first aid tape from the cabinet and tightly wrapped a strip around the torsos of each of the tiny men, binding their arms to their sides.

Leaving them tottering about the sink, I turned to lift the toilet seat, then one by one I lifted them out and stood them on the porcelain rim of the bowl.  I hunched down to look at them straight on.  They were so bewildered, and I think that terrified more than the manhandling and the bondage.  They had thought they had it all figured out, that their lives were perfectly optimized to the circumstances.  Well, circumstances change.

I stood up and unzipped my fly.  "Ever been to the county fair, boys?" I asked as their mouths fell open in horror.  "The more targets you knock over with a single stream, the bigger your prize."

They started to panic, and I had to pause to chuckle as their tiny balls bounced around as they tried to keep their footing on the slippery ledge and wondered if they could survive a fall to the hard tile floor.  Afraid they would slip at any moment, I pulled out my dick and loosed my stream.

I first aimed for the guy on the left, probably because he looked like he couldn't believe I would really go through with it.  My piss hit him after about a second, and he reflexively crab-walked away, clattering into Steve.  They both fought for balance and then my stream struck Steve in the face and they both toppled backward into the bowl.

The last guy had made it to the right side of the rim, and he looked like he was steeling himself for the jump.  My bladder was almost empty, so I rushed to the side above him to break his concentration, then squatted a bit to get my dick more in front of him.  My last squirt caught him square in the chest, and to my delight he actually flew upwards briefly before plummeting into the water.

I stood back up and looked down past my dripping dick at the three bound men trying to keep their heads above water.  Somebody must have cracked their skull on the bowl, as there was a hint of pink amidst the yellow.

"I remember the first day I met you, Steve," I said.  "You were chewing somebody out over the phone, but we could hear you all the way out in the cube farm.  You told them, 'I crap bigger turds than you.'  I wonder if anyone has ever said the same thing to you."  I started to unbuckle my pants.

Oh, the howls that floated up to me!  For almost a minute I just stood there, the loose waistband of my pants in my hand, letting the piteous cries of "No!" echo in the bowl.  I caught my reflection in the mirror and saw that a maniacal grin had spread across my face.  Just as unconsciously, my cock began to stir.

"Sorry, fellas," I said, stowing everything away and re-fastening my pants.  "Not carrying any cargo at the moment."

I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and squatted down to reach into the tub.  I gathered up Todd's corpse and mopped up most of the blood, then tossed it all into the toilet.

Standing up once more, I looked down and grasped the flush handle.  "Maybe next time," I said, pulling the handle and turning away without watching them go down.