"That smells delicious, sugar pot. And so do you." Wilfred spoke with a doting voice and planted a kiss on his wife's cheek before he went to the fridge to grab an ice-cold beer.

Emma merely turned the roast in the sizzling pan while hardly acknowledging Wilfred's arrival in the kitchen─let alone, show any form of a non-verbal sign that she had heard his compliment.

"You're home early. For once." Emma said curtly.

"Yeah, well, Earl unchained me from further duties for the day. Lucky me." As he sipped his beer, Wilfred's eyes wandered off to his 18-year-old stepdaughter sitting on the couch in the living room. He tried to make eye-contact with her, a thing he often attempted despite that she always gave him the cold shoulder. "Seems like he had some other… pressing matters," Wilfred said while leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.

"Erica?" Emma looked up as she took note of the slight tone of envy in his tone.

Wilfred frowned, tearing his gaze away from his stepdaughter to look at his wife, "No, not Erica! For godsakes, Emma! You're still not over that? For the millionth time, nothing happened between us, okay?"

"I know, I know."

"Do you?"

"I was just guessing, that's all," Emma said meekly as she continued cooking again.

"I did always found you bunch a lovely throuple together," she added as a final chord.

Wilfred snorted, "Says the woman who chose to have a roll in the hay with me while her ex-husband was waiting in vain with a homemade diner."

"He was serving oysters!"

"You love oysters!"

"Only if they are raw," Emma said.

"How did you know they weren't then?" Wilfred eyed her.

Emma shrugged, "I didn't"

Wilfred chuckled, "Yet you still came to me because?..."

"For a reason I still regret to this very day!"

Wilfred laughed, "Love you too, darling." he winked.

His gaze found Celeste again, his stepdaughter─slumped on the couch like a potato bag as she was all tied up on her phone. She still refused to give him the time of day, even though she must have heard him talking to her mother.

He could not precisely put his finger on it, but for some reason, Celeste was looking extraordinarily hot today. It wasn't her clothing that induced this effect. These were pretty mundane, actually. Still sexy though─as those cut-off denim shorts accentuated her shapely thighs─but nothing sexually provocative like Wilfred was used to seeing with Celeste. Perhaps it had something to do with her posture as she was sitting there like nothing in the world could harm her. Then he noticed them—a fresh pair of glamorous looking high heeled boots.

God! How could I miss those!

They were brazenly stationed on the coffee table, crossed over each other.

Immediately─like, the sight of this activated some lever in his head─ Wilfred saw lively images of a microscopic city dotted on the table near her boot, with millions of barely visible people showing praise to their Goddess. His drooling glare traveled all the way up to her firm thighs, where he saw a scene playing out whereby a whole infinitesimal army tried in vain to harm her.

"Mom! Can Greg come over here to help me with─" Wilfred heard Celeste's voice calling out in the far back of his mind.

It took quite some seconds before things started to sink in as Wilfred's eyes met hers, and he saw her gawking at him─all wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

She sees you ogling. She sees you ogling, Fred!

Wilfred granted her a warm smile like he was greeting her for the day in a desperate attempt to repair things. He immediately regretted it and realized too late that this simple gesture was awfully ill-timed. It only amplified the creepo-like image she must surely be having of him right now. His concern was indeed confirmed as he saw her simply shaking her head in disbelief, "You're weird." Celeste said.

Next to his feelings of shame, Wilfred also felt a sense of satisfaction. He was noticed by her!

She looked at me! Spoke to me even! Even though her words were a bit derogatory.

This all happened inside Wilfred's head, of course. Because from the outside, he managed to maintain his attitude as the responsible stepfather. Or so he hoped.

"Help you with what, sweety?" Emma asked

"Well, you know… with homework and such."

Emma produced a peal of derisive laughter, "Greg's an uneducated dropout and a lousy delivery guy nonetheless. His pizzas are always cold. What can that guy possibly teach you what you do not already know yourself?"

Celeste fumed, standing up. "Well, at least he's more of a man than that twink standing next to you will ever be."

Is she talking about me again? Wilfred cocked his brow. Yep, she's talking about me again.

"Watch your mouth there, young lady!" Emma walked up to her daughter, almost sticking a spatula─dripping with grease─in her face. "that's your stepfather you're talking about."

"Imposed stepfather." Celeste crossed her arms as she stared back at her mother, undaunted, "You never asked for my opinion when you brought him into our house."

"MY HOUSE! Do you contribute with the rent?"

"Whatever,"

"I did not hear you complaining when I bought you those Valentino Garavani's from his money! If it wasn't for Wilfred, we would be barging around in the thrift shop across the street instead. Scavenging for a run-of-the-mill garment."

Celeste sighed, "That may be true, but still... Hey Wilfred! Yeah, I'm talking to you."

Wilfred jerked up. Celeste had never before addressed him like that. She mostly ignored him or made indirective puns about him while talking to her mother. He felt like a shivering mouse, who was bluntly yanked out of his cozy hiding place and plunged in front of a pack of bloodthirsty wolves. It felt safe to be on the sideline during this discussion. Now, however, he was promoted to a participant. He wasn't really the subservient type during social calls, especially not with Emma, with whom he could argue quite fiercely at times.

That was a whole other story with Celeste, though. There was something about her that he found both intriguing as intimidating at the same time. The first time Emma brought her along to make acquaintance with him was roughly two years ago. It merely led to a quite inconvenient occasion for all of them. It was pretty obvious that Celeste was forced by her mother to join this meeting and act politely. She had a hard time in doing so. She mostly just ignored Wilfred. More than once, she doled out a feisty remark to her mother by making clear that she was rather anywhere but here. The only time her sparkling, green eyes lighted up and met his was when Wilfred was boasting about his earnings in the insurance sector compared to others in the same field.

On his turn, Wilfred found out that he too had trouble maintaining his natural composure when this Celeste walked in. She was little more than just a girl, but still, her natural appeal was able to put Wilfred's heart to a stop the moment she walked in.

This woman is a true Goddess. She's nothing like her mother.

Those words were the first that popped up in his mind the moment she stood in front of him to reach out a limp handshake. It was also the first time he visualized her as a giantess with tinies teeming about at her feet to meet her every whim. With time, Celeste slowly flowered into a stunningly attractive young woman, with luscious curves that gave even the baggiest of garments a hard time of veiling them. Her waving, chestnut hair wore a warm undertone of red woven naturally into brown at its endings─with a few streaks of pitch-black here and there as if to dissent from the prevailing order.

However beautiful she may be on the outside, it was also a harsh fact that this girl seemed nearly rotten on the inside. She was downright rude and selfish, demanding instant gratification of her every whim, with a total lack of empathy for the needs of others.

And this was precisely the perfect combination of attributes Wilfred loved to see with the reigning giantesses he always saw during fantasizing images in his head.

From that day on, Celeste's person started to dominate Wilfred's dreams like a cruel and unforgiving giantess Goddess─ruling over the entire planet with an iron fist.

She was also the leading lady starring in the movies playing in Wilfred's head during sessions of intimacy with Emma. He merely had to conjure the image of Celeste as she loomed threateningly above a helpless, shrunken city to make his member hard like steel─ready to guide his wife to a yodeling encore.

Celeste was a true Goddess in Wilfred's eyes, and here he stood─eye to eye─with this teenage deity as her narrowed eyes zeroed in on him─seemingly piercing right into his soul.

She's coming. She's coming! Wilfred panicked as Celeste made her way toward him.

"Do not ever touch me like that again!" She fumed at her mother, who tried to stop her. "and put that spatula away. You like ridiculous with it." She yanked her arm free and strode up toward Wilfred. Her brand new boots clattered on the floor until she stopped merely three feet in front of him─cocking her head.

"You want to converse with me, don't cha? Bonding with your stepdaughter and all. Well, here I am. Converse." Celeste crossed her arms, waiting patiently.

Wilfred's eyes shifted from Celeste's to his wife, begging for some aid. Emma merely nodded with her head as to prod him into a conversation with her daughter.

Even now, at a time like this, with the sight of his Goddess, the sweet scent of his Goddess, the heavenly voice of his Goddess addressing him in the flesh─Wilfred found that he was unable to speak even one decent word to her. Her close presence was just too overwhelming for him. He felt a deep, strong urge to just bow down and grovel at her boots and be degraded by her.

Giving in to such a subservient tactic would irrefutably lead to irreparable damage to him as a person, though.

Celeste eyed her mother as the silence between her and Wilfred started to feel uncomfortable.

"He ain't suddenly turned deaf now, is he?" Celeste quipped, "or are you just a NANCE?" – she shot her face up close to his – "Like I knew you were."

"BOO!" Celeste chuckled to her heart's content when she saw Wilfred's eyes blinking. Turning her back, she walked away triumphantly, ignoring her mother's angry glare.

"His mother had to be quite the lonely and wretched woman for choosing to love and raise such a child." Celeste called out as an after-sneer without looking back, "He's pathetic!"
Right at that moment, when Celeste had barely finished that sentence, a beastly rage welled up within Wilfred – punching him into action.

Hearing Wilfred's marching footsteps approaching, Celeste spun around, surprised. Her look of confusion churned into a stare of utter shock when she saw Wilfred steamrolling his way up to her – seething eyes and flaring nostrils included.
Out of instinct, she took a step back, squeezed her eyes half shut, and defensively rose her hands as it looked like he was about to bulldoze through her.
Wilfred stopped merely a few inches in front of her, "Don't you EVER talk about my mother again!" he spat while pointing a trembling finger in Celeste's face. "EVER!" he added to make sure his message was loud and clearly imprinted in her head.

Celeste stared back at him – totally numb – her eyes drifted off towards her mother's, desperately in search of aid.
Her mother seemed to take no notice of Celeste's plea for help as she was simply staring at her husband, all flabbergasted.
After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Celeste broke it by saying, "Whatever." Before walking off. A large, expensive Chinese vase ended up in hundred pieces on the floor when Celeste simply smashed her hand against it before bouncing up on the stairs to her bedroom.

Seeing his incredibly pretty stepdaughter rushing off like that after his fiery scold gave him a pleasant boost of his ego. It felt like a grand victory to him. He relaxed his face and looked over to his wife. A smile crept upon his countenance as his eyes met hers. He expected her to answer him with a smile in return, but his guess came a cropper as she greeted him with a loud, frustrated groan instead before walking off.
Wilfred looked after his wife with a puzzled look as she walked up the stairs. He heard some shouting – back and forth – upstairs and doors slamming open and close. He was almost sure he heard the terms' jerk' and 'mental institute' being screeched by Celeste's strident voice. It went on for some time. He did not dare to mingle in, so he grabbed another beer from the fridge instead and slumped down at the dining table – leafing through some woman's magazine to wait it all out.

"Why are you angry with me?" Wilfred asked as he sat down on the bed next to Emma. The lights were out in their bedroom, and his wife was already lying in bed. The squabble between her and Celeste had taken half the evening. When all was done, Emma came down, grabbed a plate of food, and vanished upstairs again – all, without granting Wilfred the time of the day.

"Angry?... ugh… Fred, please, can't this wait until tomorrow? I have an action review meeting to lead in the morning and I've just survived a two-hour long argument with my teenage daughter."

"Okay… okay… I'm sorry," Wilfred snuggled behind Emma under the blanket. "Just tell me what you two talked about, please."

Emma sighed, knowing that Wilfred would not let it rest. She rolled over and looked him in the eyes. "I made her agree to offer her apology to you for the insult on your mother."

Wilfred nodded approvingly, "Good. That's good, hon,"

"I'm not finished yet," his wife said. "You, on your turn, have to apologize for your aggressive behavior and–"

"Aggressive what?" Wilfred interrupted in disbelief.

"AND," Emma took up her line again, "you have to pay for the Chinese vase she'd shattered."

"I have to pay for the vase?!" Wilfred chuckled. "Where is the justice in that? Please, enlighten me because I don't see it."

"Aw, come on, Fred. That vase is just a petty thing to you."

"That petty thing was nearly two grand!"

"So what? You earn more money than you can spend." Emma replied. "At least, that's what you always boast about."

"That's not the point. I did not break it, did I?"

"Not directly, no."

"What do you mean by that?" Wilfred narrowed his eyes.

"Your reaction was over the line and you know it. The girl was terrified."

"So you are angry with me then?" Wilfred said.

Emma sighed, "I'm not… listen, you two barely speak to each other for years, and then this? Can you imagine what it's like for me? Caught up in the middle as a mother and as a lover?"

Wilfred remained silent for a while, gave a long sigh and responded, "I will apologize to her and pay the vase."

"Thank you," Emma said.

"But only for you."

"That's all I'm asking."

"And because I earn more money than I can spend," Wilfred added with a smile.

Emma smiled in return, "Come here you."

Wilfred groaned with frustration as his car refused to start after a long day at work. He wanted to go home, but the thing kept merely stuttering like a high-hearted student suffering from a bad case of dysphemia. Turning the key, he took another attempt. And another. And another.
"Blessed virgin Mary, rub my back," Wilfred shouted out in joy when his car finally did what it was supposed to do. Tapping the pedal with his foot, he was pleased to hear his engine running smoothly like a merry-go-round on a funfair during early spring.
He was about to hit the gas when it felt like his stomach made a sudden freefall in the direction of his butt. His purview became a blur as he and his car were rising, higher and higher. As the ascending sensation ceased to a halt, Wilfred opened the door, got out and plunged down on his knees to orientate himself after this nauseating experience.
He leaped up when he heard a girlish chuckle. Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, Wilfred gasped and craned his neck to look up at a smiling young girl's enormous face looking down upon him.

Celeste? He thought.

Her countenance was even bigger and wider than the most promising screen of a luxurious cinema. The corner of her dazzling lips stretched broader – revealing even more of the gleaming white surface of her perfect teeth – when Wilfred looked around, terrified, as he realized he was standing on de palm of her hand.
"You have been very, very naughty. Haven't you, mister?" Celeste said. She began to laugh as she slowly began to close her tree trunk-sized fingers into a fist – capturing Wilfred and his shrunken car in total darkness.
Wilfred sat up straight in bed with a loud gasp. Feeling all clingy with sweat, Wilfred saw that his wife was still sleeping next to him. She breathed in and out with long and peaceful streams.
As he stood up to go to the bathroom for a midnight pee, he felt his engorged member tenting his pants.

Blasted Celeste. I have to finish that when I get back to bed.

Slinking through the hallway, Wilfred had to pass Celeste's room before reaching the toilet. He noticed that her door was ajar, and he heard whispers.

Did that Greg sneaked through the window or something?

Curiosity got the best of him as he prowled closer, trying to take a peek.
He saw Celeste's figure sitting on her bed, darkly silhouetted.
"It worked! It worked! Look at you!" he heard Celeste's voice whispering, all giddy with excitement. Wilfred frowned as he thought he could see an incredibly tiny figure standing in the palm of her hand, waving its matchstick-like arms.

Walking down the stairs, Wilfred made a soft groan as he could hear the voices of both Celeste and his wife chatting with each other. He deliberately delayed his morning ritual with the hope that Celeste would already be gone for her jogging routine. A thing she always did every Thursday before school and was literally the only thing in life she took seriously.

Their voices sounded awfully cheerful — quite the contrast with their falling out of yesterday.

Wilfred sacked up and entered the living room. Donned in a windbreaker jacket – with big flashy letters of some sports brand printed upon the chest and her own name on the back – Celeste sat at the dining table, eating a bowl of low-sugar cereal mixed with skimmed milk. Below that, she wore loose white shorts and a pair of running shoes. As Celeste heard Wilfred entering, she looked up, locked her eyes on him, and gave a curt smile before she took another bite.

Well, that's new. Wilfred thought.

Celeste not only confirmed his existence – which was already a specialty in itself – but also took the trouble of smiling at him.

Wilfred granted himself a swift moment by admiring his stepdaughter before walking to the kitchen where his wife was rummaging about. Celeste was already absorbed in some magazine when Wilfred's eyes were shining unabashedly over the smooth surface of her bare legs she'd just crossed over each other.

God! Those legs! Those awfully perfect young legs!

He gave himself a mental smackdown when a lump was already forming in his underwear. He grimaced as a twinge traveled through his lower region.

It surprised him that his member was even capable of standing at attention. Especially after last night. After what he had seen.

A person! A tiny person! Roughly the size of his thumb was standing in Celeste's palm! Waving and squeaking with his little voice!

He had moved away from her door just in time before the cat drew Celeste's attention by purring at his legs. After he took a leak, Wilfred returned to bed and gaped at his wife for almost an hour as he contemplated if it was a wise thing to do to wake her up and tell her what he just saw. Would she believe him? Does he even believe it?

When he asked himself how he would react to such a story, it was enough motivation for him to just lay down and try to get some sleep.

But his member was still hard. Rock hard. So he went for a wank instead.

One time. Two times. Three times. And that blasted thing still refused to stand down. Dreaming of Celeste as a giantess gave his junk a healthy incentive to operate at great lengths. However, seeing Celeste as an actual giantess was like pumping his junk full with an excessive dose of Viagra, ready to transform his gentleman into one nuclear-powered jackhammer on a roid rage.

Wilfred eventually lost count and cried himself to sleep when his poor shaft was utterly rubbed to blisters. The following day he was forced into another go with his wife when he was unwittingly spooning against her soft hump with his engorged member. After a cold shower, his dong finally went limp. Still, Wilfred made a certain precaution by dressing into a loose oversized shirt to cover the tent – which would undoubtedly be formed by the sight of Celeste – in his pants.

He resisted the urge to bow down in front of her – a thing he already had done innumerable times in his dreams – and scuttled his way to the kitchen to greet his wife.

"Hey there, tiger," Emma said in a whispery, sultry voice while greeting him with a beaming smile. While kissing, her hand was quick to discover the granite-hard lump in his pants.

"Looks like someone still has some unfinished business here," Emma winked while massaging his junk and looking at him with an all-devouring glare.

"What? Does it hurt?" Emma said, a bit concerned as she saw a grimace forming on his face. "After a hat-trick? You're getting old," she kissed him.

Wilfred gave a sigh of relief when his wife's fingers finally let go of his shaft after a playful squeeze.

Wilfred beamed a simpering smile as he saw Emma grabbing a plate from the lower drawer while sticking her cute butt out exaggeratedly and sensually while giving him a naughty smile.

He felt guilty. Emma was totally convinced that it was her doing and her physical appearance that caused his explosive sexual arousal. She should never know that it's all due to the unintentional doing of her 18-year-old daughter, Celeste.

"Good thinking there with the shirt," she whispered in his ear.

"Thanks," Wilfred replied, a bit forced, and grabbed some breakfast for himself. A bowl of low-fat quark with chunks of fresh fruit to fight the upcoming belly and a long-drink glass of red bush tea.

"Bon appetite!" Celeste said in a totally uncharacteristic friendly manner as both Wilfred and Emma joined her at the table.

"Bon appetite!" Wilfred replied and sat down.

"Already finished here," Celeste showed her empty bowl with a smile.

Wilfred smiled back, "Well, in that case, Merci, madame,"

A warm glow traveled through Wilfred's body when Celeste curtsied him with a dazzling smile. A smile which Wilfred was fairly sure about that it could melt every boy at school into long-life servitude to her whims.

As he started eating, he could not prevent his eyes from stealing a furtive glance at Celeste's legs which were still crossed below the table. He gave himself an inner slap on the wrist for doing that. Such an act was not only an inappropriate thing to do as a stepdad, but it only made it harder for him to maintain a proper attitude, for such a sight only bulged his member more painfully.

He saw Emma smiling at him from across the table. She was obviously content with the fact that her husband and daughter were finally conversing with each other like normal people do.

"Did you know that it's France ethic to keep both hands above the table during a meal?" Celeste said.

Wilfred looked at her, abashed, "No… no, I didn't," and quickly placed his other hand – which was resting on his lap – on the table.

Both Emma and Celeste smirked.

"He's funny, mom," Celeste said.

"I'm sorry, by the way. I should not have said those things about your mother," Celeste added all sincerely.

Wilfred gave her a mournful smile, "It's okay… I'm sorry too. I overreacted a little bit."

After a short silence, the somewhat tense atmosphere altered into a mellow ambiance – inviting for more small talks to take place.

As Emma stood up to walk to the kitchen, Wilfred saw Celeste scribbling something down on a small piece of paper.

She placed it on the table between her and Wilfred and looked at him with an inscrutable glare.

Wilfred bends his head to take a look at the text written on the scrap of paper.

I KNOW WHAT YOU SAW LAST NIGHT… it stated.

Celeste's glare remained blank when Wilfred looked back at her with questioning eyes.

Before he could conjure some sort of response, his wife, Emma, was already returning.

"Anyone?" Emma asked while presenting a plate of freshly baked sugar bagels.

"Don't mind if I do!" Celeste said. Wilfred watched with a cocked eyebrow as her hand reached out, greedily, to snatch a bagel and stuff it in her mouth. Celeste's behavior was quite controversial regarding her strict diet. One moment, her steel-discipline can decline tasty small bites as everyone else is feasting around her, while at the next, she chooses to devour handfuls of greasy snacks.

Wilfred holds his hand up as Celeste grabs another bagel and offers it to him. "Got to be gentle to the tummy here,"

Celeste shrugs and decides to keep it herself.

As Celeste and Emma continue their frivolous small talk, Wilfred stays on the sideline and contemplates recent events.

Is that girl pulling my leg here? Wilfred eyed her as he watches her talking to her mother all frantically about clothes and fashion and stuff.

A movement in the corner of his purview caught his attention. Wilfred's eyes widen when he saw Celeste's hand cupped around her tea mug in a way so that only he and Celeste could see it.

The thing was gradually shrinking! And then growing again! His eyes shot to Emma, who seemed completely unaware of this happening. She talked all frenzied about some silent retreat in the mountains she participated in a few months ago. Celeste just kept nodding while listening to her mother as she pretended that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Sweet lord of the seven seas! The girl can shrink! She can actually alter the size of things! Wilfred rubs his eyes in disbelief as he gaped at the mug, which kept shrinking and growing again. One side of his mouth tightened as a jolt of pain stitched through his lower region. Where his member felt like a solid piece of granite before, it was now solidifying painfully into a diamond-like cone, bulging out aggressively as if it wanted to tear its way through the skin.

Seeing his deepest sexual desire becoming a reality, Wilfred could do nothing less than to mindlessly fantasize while gaping at Celeste's sexy hand. First, it was the mug, shrinking. Then, he saw a car, a tree, himself, a building even! – shrunken down to minuscule size next to Celeste's slender hand. That seemed impossible, though, shrinking a whole building down – including its people. The thought was utterly thrilling for Wilfred nonetheless. Her power would be phenomenal! The things she could do…

"Earth to Wilfred! Helloooo!" Emma's voice tore Wilfred out of his moment of mind-wandering.

"Yes, he's back," Celeste's smile greeted him.

"Well, are you open to Celeste's proposal to go jogging with her sometimes?" Emma asked.

"It would certainly be gentle for your tummy," Celeste winked.

Barely landed, Wilfred answered absentmindedly, "Huh… yeah, yes, of course. When? Right now?"

Emma and Celeste grinned, "Easy there, cowboy. Always let things sink in before agreeing to something. Why don't you let me know your answer in the morning," Celeste smiled and tapped him on the back as she stood up to leave the table.

To Wilfred's consternation, the shrunken mug of tea was still standing there – openly on the table and smaller than a freakin marble! Wilfred quickly snatched it up before Emma could see it and stuffed it in his pocket.

Slumped on the couch, Wilfred scrolled mindlessly through his phone – scanning the highlights of trivial local news reports. He cocked his eyebrow when a particular headline caught his attention.

"That kid's still missing?" Wilfred addressed his wife, who sat all sulking behind her laptop at the dining table – typing all frantically.

"George's boy, the one who constantly got into Celeste's hair," He added when he received nothing more than an absent-minded hum from Emma.

"Time is valuable. And me speaking about George's boy's disappearance will not contribute to me finishing this crucial email," Emma answered dryly without looking up from her laptop.

Wilfred scoffed, "And here I am thinking that Celes is the cold-hearted one."

He shook his head when it became clear that no further reaction would come from his wife. Wilfred yawned broadly, finished his coffee, and made his way upstairs.

Trudging up the stairs, Wilfred could hear Celeste singing from the bathroom. A thing she often did while taking a shower. Although Wilfred was a bit reluctant to admit it, Celeste's voice really was something. It happened more than occasionally that Wilfred sank away in a trance while listening to Celeste's angelic-like voice. Coming to his senses, he usually slapped his own face back to reality, but in some cases, her voice was just too irresistible to ignore. Goosebumps sprouted all over his arms as Wilfred heard a solid and shivering piece of vocal blasting out of Celeste's throat – reverberating between the tiled walls.

God's wonder that the girl hasn't attempted a talent show yet. Wilfred thought as he made his way toward the bedroom, eager for a nap.

Wait! Wilfred pondered as he stood still; this is my chance! He spun on his heels and sauntered over to Celeste's room.

It felt like his heart was ready to drum out of his chest as he stood there in the doorway – taking a peek into her bedroom. Looking over his shoulder, Wilfred could still hear the shower clattering next to Celeste's echoing singing voice. He focused his hearing on the stairs – to check if he could discern creaks crawling up the steps, a sound you always heard when someone made his way upstairs — Wilfred then focused on sensing faint vibrations of footsteps traveling over the main floor.

Nothing. Emma's probably still sweating behind her laptop.

With mixed feelings of curiosity, shame and fear, Wilfred gave a deep, encouraging exhale and took a step into Celeste's room. Then another and another. A sharp whiff of stale sweat swirled his way into Wilfred's nostrils. He leaped up and looked down as his foot crunched and almost completely flattened and empty can of energy drink. Right next to it, he saw a clutter of cloth sprawled about on the floor. He recognized it.

These are her jogging clothes.

Did she really leave them brewing here for two days? Wilfred crouched down and grabbed a balled-up sock – which felt quite heavy still due to a good amount of drenched sweat. He brought it to his nose and took a curt sniff. Then, he closed his eyes and took a long, leisurely sniff. His member raised tight to attention.

You're sick, Fred! You know that? Just sick!

He threw the sock away and stood back up. Scanning the walls, he saw a poster hanging above Celeste's bed. It displayed a drawing depicting a dark theme with some witchy-looking girl setting moves on a chessboard. Instead of regular-looking pieces, the girl was playing with pawns shaped into the landscapes of different countries worldwide. Below the picture was a text printed stating:

The world is one unending field of chess – ready to be taken – and I am the one playing it as I please.

As he shifted his eyes, Wilfred's gaze fell onto a small object stationed on Celeste's nightstand. It was a globe laying firmly in the grasp of a ceramic hand accompanied with the text: The world belongs in my hand.

*Scratch scratch*

Wilfred jerked up.

Where is that sound coming from?

He listened…

*Scratch scratch*

Again! Like someone or something is scratching from within… the drawer???

Reaching his hand out, Wilfred hesitantly took hold of the drawer's knob and pulled it slowly backward.

"Woooow!!!" he shouted as he rolled backward on his butt.

A person! A tiny person in Celeste's drawer!

He quickly slapped his hand against his mouth and listened…

"Who's there?"

Wilfred heard Celeste's voice calling out from the bathroom.

Crap! I've been heard. No shit…

"Help! Help! Get me out of here! Please! I've done nothing!" a squeaky voice called out from the drawer. Wilfred could have sworn that this tiny person had a remarkable resemblance with George's boy. What was his name again? Sonny! Sonny is what people call him. Poor lad.

"Wilfred?" Celeste's voice came from the hallway.

She's coming!

Wilfred quickly smashed the drawer close with his foot and looked around. Celeste's footsteps were already underway. There was no time for him to get out of her room in time. His mind reeled. What justifiable excuse could a stepfather have for being in his stepdaughter's room without asking?

"Your teacher called and told us he caught you using drugs. Hand it over, young lady, and I won't tell your mom." Wilfred shook his head as the scene played in his head.

Celeste's footsteps were nearing her bedroom.

There was only one possible way out of this. He hoped…

Laying flat on the floor, Wilfred writhed his body under Celeste's bed – snuggling cozily as far as he could get, meandering among all sorts of inexplicable clutter.

Ugh… it smells like… like… I have absolutely no idea what I'm smelling, but It's awful!

Peeking from the darkness, Wilfred stared at Celeste's posture standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She was merely clad in a white towel wrapped around her magnificent body – beginning just above her bosom and ending roughly halfway her thighs. Wilfred had always admired her athletic built on the shoulders. They were slightly broader than most girls her age but still looked very feminine. Celeste's chestnut hair – which was partially wet still – cascaded gracefully over her bare shoulders.

She frowned deeply – and looked stunning while doing so – as her eyes scrutinized the bedroom.

Oh lord! Why is that girl blessed with such an inconceivable grade of hotness! Wilfred thought in agony as a powerful, hoisting mast was trying its best to tear its way through his underwear.

"Fuck, no," Wilfred whispered as he saw his car key laying there for the taking on the open floor. It must have slipped out of his pocket when he stumbled while opening that drawer.

His attention went back to his stepdaughter as she walked in. Wilfred felt the floor vibrating and creaking with every step Celeste took. He saw her feet standing still for a moment before moving their way toward the bed.

God, no! Please! Just, no…

He gave an inner sigh of relief when the bed squeaked as Celeste's cute butt landed upon it. Wilfred had to turn his head sideways when the mattress was pushing against his nose.

"What's this?" Celeste said.

A moment later, Wilfred saw her hand dropping in from above – entering the narrow framed sight Wilfred had while lying under the bed. It picked up his jingling car key – like an arcade claw machine – before leaving the scene where it came from.

"Fuck!" he whispered.

His eyes were drawn towards Celeste's bare feet – stationed firmly in very close proximity to him. He always had some slightly unnatural obsession for them – from the moment he laid his eyes on them. Wilfred constantly made sure to seize every moment he could to take a glance at them. There was this one time whereby Wilfred took a nap on the couch, and Celeste was slumped in the lazy chair – watching a movie, while her feet were crossed over each other on a footrest close to Wilfred's face. That moment was simply paradise for Wilfred. He was able to subject Celeste's heavenly feet – which were fortunately also clad in a pair of sexy high heels – to a comprehensive observation. And without Celeste even knowing it!

His eyes were aimed at such an angle that Celeste could not see them from her position. His mind fired away all kinds of fantasies as it conjured lively images in his head of tiny people, armies, whole cities even breaking loose in sheer panic beneath the looming feet of Celeste – all under the background sound of a playing movie and Celeste's giggles from time to time.

That evening was a blast. The only thing missing was the freedom to put his hand to work with his enraged cock.

Just like then, Wilfred dreamt away by the sight of Celeste's feet while hidden under her bed – like a peeking creep.

Those toes are divine.

The things he would do for a chance to be shrunken down to some insignificant speck while climbing her big toe and exploring the vast scape of its nail…

Before he knew it, Wilfred's hand already found its way to his steel-hard shaft – pumping it up and down with gentle, barely audible strokes.

Sick, Fred… just plain sick…

It did not matter, though. Wilfred was just too aroused by the feet of his teen Goddess, and no inner voice would put a stop to that. Not before–

Wilfred's pupils rolled to the back of his head as he mustered all discipline to withhold from moaning out loud in a satisfactory scream of discharge.

As he was finally able to think clearly again, Wilfred was deeply disgusted with himself as he felt a warm and sticky goo drenching his underwear.

"Wilfred?"

Wilfred shook up when he heard Emma's voice calling his name. He saw her appearing in Celeste's doorway.

"You've seen Wilfred?" Emma asked Celeste.

Celeste remained silent, but she probably just shook her head because Emma continued, "Strange. I could have sworn he went upstairs. He ain't in the bedroom either."

"Perhaps he finally decided to release us and commit suicide," Celeste said.

"Celes!" Emma fumed.

I probably will if you find me. Wilfred thought.

"What?! You're married to the guy, right? We could get his money and live happily ever after."

Emma crossed her arms, looking at Celeste with a glare of disappointment. "You're incorrigible."

"No, I ain't. Mr. Harrison just crowned me his best student in five years this morning. And I found this."

Wilfred saw Emma's hand shooting up deftly in the air as she caught the car key.

"Where'd you find that?" Emma asked.

"Here, on my floor. I also heard someone screaming. It sounded like Wilfred."

"Have you been joyriding again, young lady? Because if you have–"

"Why is everything I say a presumed lie in your eyes?!" Celeste screamed.

"Well, what would you think if you were in my shoes, huh? Finding our car key in your room."

"Whatever. Just… choke on it or something. I will never be honest with you ever again."

Wilfred saw Emma shaking her head before ambling off.

Feeling all dirty and ashamed, Wilfred waited out Celeste's next move while lying in the dark beneath her bed. He muttered under his breath when Celeste's feet vanished from sight and her bed creaked as she plunged down all cozy on her bed.

This may take a while.

Some pop song rose up – probably blasting out of her phone or tablet – and Celeste started to sing along with it.
Wilfred heard Celeste murmuring derogatory comments accompanied by sputtering chuckles as intervals between vocal eruptions. The context and the nature of her words made it clear to Wilfred that she was scrolling through various social media accounts of her peers. Apparently, Celeste found that she needed to state comments aloud on things that needed commenting.

"Really, Nadia? Designated Dave?" Celeste chuckled. "how low can one sink …"

"And you, Natalya – you actually expect me to promote your vlog page after that public sneer you gave me last week?"

"Bla. Bla. Bla." Wilfred whispered as he rolled with his eyes while he was forced to listen – lying there all stuck under Celeste's bed.

This will take ages.

Just as Wilfred was about to yield his ears to a serenade of snarky remarks, he heard a drawer being slid open.

"I hope you're ready to entertain me, Sonny," Celeste said.

Wilfred heard a squeaky voice of protest before he flinched when Celeste's feet slammed back right next to him on the floor. He saw her hand sinking lower – coming within sight through the narrow strip of view Wilfred had from under the bed. Celeste's clutched fingers carried a tiny figure – before dropping its cargo bluntly on the ground.
After a rough landing from a considerable height, Wilfred saw little Sonny struggling back on his feet. The contrast in sheer size was highlighted dramatically when the boy's meager existence shivered fearfully between Celeste's stationed feet. They stood firmly, like two monumental pillars of some ancient Greek Goddess. But that's precisely the picture Sonny must be having of her right now – as he gaped up at her cruel countenance.

"Dance," Celeste said as she stomped her left foot. She tittered heartily when Sonny fell flat again. He quickly stood back up as he shivered with dread to get on Celeste's bad side.
Celeste's feet started to jingle up and down on the beat of some pop song. Then she began to sing.
It soon became apparent for Sonny that he was expected to start dancing – which he did. Watching from under the bed, Wilfred saw the meager boy oscillating his body to the rhythm of the music. But, unfortunately, it was pretty clear that this Sonny did not have the gift of a natural performer. The poor boy missed every beat – it looked awful!
Wilfred feared that Celeste would share this same opinion and that it would lead to some ghastly punishment for him.
The music stopped, Celeste stopped – and eventually, the boy stopped dancing. Craning his neck, Sonny looked up at his captor with a puzzled glare. Wilfred could tell from Sonny's body language that Celeste was far from happy.

"Do you perchance have any notion of my opinion about your dance performance?" Wilfred heard Celeste's voice speaking.
Celeste chuckled when no words came out of Sonny's mouth. Instead, he merely gaped up at her.

"Where do you excel in, boy?"

Just as Wilfred thought that Sonny would be unable to produce any words, he came up with something.

"D-driving, ma'am," Sonny said.

Ma'am? She's just a girl, for godsakes! Wilfred thought.

"Really? Driving? You're like fourteen or something! How on earth could you- Nevermind, I don't wanna know," Celeste paused and then added, "Show me.'

"How?" Sonny asked.

Celeste chuckled. "Simple, with this."

Sonny yelped and jumped to the side when some object was being placed by Celeste's hand dangerously close to him.

"Dad!" Sonny called out and jerked up to make his way to the car – which was significantly smaller than him.

Celeste sniggered. "He's not in there, boy. It's merely his car."

"W-what did you do to him?"

SLAM!

Wilfred flinched when Celeste stomped her foot – almost smashing poor Sonny with it.
"First playing a mute, and now you dare to question me?!" Celeste fumed. "Get in!"

Before Sonny was able to ask how for heaven's sake, he would be able to step in a car barely higher than his hips he was shrunken down even further, matching the car's size.
Wilfred – who was still following this all in the dark beneath Celeste's bed – saw Sonny make haste to step in a car roughly the size of a mere dinky car.

"Now ride, boy. Ride as though your life depends on it because it does," Celeste said and prodded him by smashing a foot near him.
Wilfred watched it all with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the sight of this boiled up an untenable surge of arousal – pumping his member harder than a steel rod. But, on the other hand, Wilfred felt highly concerned about the boy's fate and bore a responsibility to act. Doing this, however, would mean to expose himself – with all that that entails. Getting into the frontline of things has never been Wilfred's strongest suit. He instead preferred to cleverly manipulate others in doing it for him. And however stubborn he was to admit, Wilfred could not deny the fact that he was a little bit afraid of Celeste right now. He had always behold the girl with an unnatural charge of awe – she was after all The Goddess in his dreams – ruling over many. But, seeing the girl displaying things Wilfred deemed only possible in one of his wet, filthy dreams caused his awe for her to soar a few notches higher. The brat utterly shrunk a whole car down to handheld size. And a person! A real-life person – just shrunken down and brought home to play with! It's a clear case of abduction. He should report her to the police, this instance.

"Not impressed here." Celeste's playful voice brought Wilfred back to the here and now.
Peeking from the dark, Wilfred saw George's toy-sized car racing its way toward the doorway.

"Bombs, awaaaay!" Celeste said. And not a second later, Wilfred saw a pillow slamming down on the floor. Then a cuddly bear and an emptied can of coke followed after. Finally, Wilfred's eyes flashed when a porcelain mug clattered down on the floor – cracking apart in many pieces.

What a bitch! Wilfred thought.

Celeste laughed heartily as she watched poor Sonny evading it all pretty deftly.
Celeste applauded. "That's it! Now I'm impressed."

Wilfred's attention was drawn towards the doorway when a figure showed up – standing with her hands on her hips. It was his wife again – Emma.

"What's with all the racket?" Emma fumed while looking down at the floor, which was all littered with shards.

Celeste merely shrugged, "Nothing, I just felt like throwing some stuff around, that's all."

"What are you, insane? Clean it up, right now!"

"My room, my clutter."

"And keep your toys with you!" Emma said.

Both Wilfred and Celeste – simultaneously – gasped, stretched their eyes wide open and reached their hand out a second before Sonny and his dad's shrunken car were crushed to oblivion by Emma's boot. "There." Emma wiggled her foot like she was snuffing out a cigarette – pancaking the whole vehicle. "Now, where is that goddamn husband of mine? Fred! Where the hell are you, Fred!

Wilfred watched all thunderstruck as Emma casually walked off after – unwittingly – killing someone. His eyes were glued at the vised pulp of metal clattering down on the floor after it pried loose from the bottom of Emma's boot when it swung off. George's shrunken car was flattened beyond recognition. Sonny-boy was no more.
If there was a moment for Wilfred to emerge out of his hiding place and act, it was already long gone. An innocent boy's life was taken simply because he was too gutless to do anything about it – and he still was.
Wilfred lay there – under the bed, in the dark, and scared to death to move a muscle as he patiently awaited Celeste's next move. He saw her sexy feet still stationed right in front of him on the floor. A tent was already forming in his pants as he admired them – flashes of giantess-related images flooded through his head. Even now, after he had just witnessed a brutal killing, Wilfred couldn't help but get aroused while observing Celeste's feet and ankles.

I'm beyond repair. Wilfred thought with despair.

He did not know what was worse, busting his nut while laying under his stepdaughter's bed or allowing himself to get sexually fueled right after he witnessed a cruel killing he could have prevented.
Wilfred did care, though. And he truly wanted to do otherwise, deep in his heart, but the urge was just too strong. Especially when Celeste simply stood up, dropped the towel, and started to get dressed.

"Time to find another toy, I guess." Wilfred heard Celeste's voice saying before she turned on the music. From his angle, Wilfred was able to observe her lower body. But that was more than enough to get him going, though. His eyes drooled over at the sight of Celeste's naked bubble butt wiggling from side to side to the beat. A flashy red thong slid over her thighs before clasping firmly around her tight derriere. The backside of it quickly vanished from sight between two juicy buttocks. Wilfred's mind was keen to fabricate lively images of barely visible fighter jets shooting the full spread of their useless missiles at one of Celeste's buttocks. Before he knew it, Wilfred's throat was already vibrating a long moan – which was luckily inaudible due to the hard music - after he spooged unashamed for the second time in his stepdaughter's bedroom.

Wilfred did his utmost to remain focused on the movie blasting out of the television, but blundered drastically. Like a magnetic pull, his eyes kept being drawn towards Celeste's legs – who sat there on the couch all sprawled out like a sock puppet. With merely a shirt on – which had to pass on for pajamas – the color of Celeste's underwear left nothing to the imagination as one unclothed leg rested upon the side table, while the other was slumped over the couch's armrest.

“Don’t go in. Don't go in!” His wife, Emma, screeched while pointing at the television screen playing some cheesy horror movie.

Celeste sighed. “They always go in, mom. Here, see? Slash! Dead. Meat.”

“Ugh! Is all this bloodshed really necessary? This is no movie for me.” Emma stood up and walked to the kitchen.

Celeste snorted. “You’re such a killjoy, mom!”

Wilfred watched blankly to the screen as some B actor – donned in a cheap ass werewolf costume – roared and sliced loose at everyone within range in a cardboard fabricated village in Charles Dickens style. Wilfred held his attention on the screen for nearly ten seconds – a new record – before the magnetic pull of Celeste's smooth thighs compelled Wilfred's eyes to take another peek at them.

His heart skipped a beat when Celeste's green eyes zeroed in on him. She cocked a brow.

“Also scared?” Celeste asked in an exaggerated cynical tone.

A flock of butterflies swarmed about in Wilfred's stomach as he received another scarce moment of attention from his stepdaughter – his Goddess.

He meekly shook his head.

“Great!” Celeste beamed with a dazzling smile capable of ending an ice age. “The best piece is still coming. Now, sit tight and pipe down.”

Did she just, like… commanded me? Wilfred thought in consternation.
He liked it. He liked it a lot! This is exactly how he wanted to be treated by her – like a piece of trash beneath her boot. True, it was no way for a stepdaughter to talk to her stepfather. And if he wanted to maintain any scanty pittance of dignity he should reprimand the brat, this instance! Just like he should have acted when he discovered a shrunken person in Celeste's drawer. Well, we all know how that ended…
Wilfred merely shrugged and grabbed his beer from the table. As he took a nice long gulp he saw Emma's figure peeking around the corner from the kitchen. She looked at him disapproving before shaking her head to vanish back into the kitchen again. For numerous times, Emma had made clear to Wilfred that he needed to stand up more to Celeste's transgressive behavior – and not in some psycho way he did earlier when he screamed in her face.
Wilfred couldn't agree more, she's right. He should. Were it not so darn arousing to not do so. It just felt so thrilling to Wilfred to be degraded by his teenage stepdaughter.
Wilfred frowned in confusion while looking at his left hand holding the bottle of beer. The bottle's size was expanding! No, he himself was shrinking! His fingers slid along the slippery, curved edges until Wilfred was unable to hold it. The bottle slipped loose from his grip and dropped onto the couch, drenching his pants and underwear with its ice-cold contents. Before Wilfred knew it, his rapidly dwindling body – which matched the size of a sow bug now – flailed wildly in a puddle of beer. His miniscule gasps and shouts remained unheard when he called for help. In the distance, he saw Celeste's looming figure seemingly unaware of his perilous situation while watching television. Just when his head dipped under and his throat gulped a few swallows of beer, he sat back in the couch again – fully sized. Emma's brows tangled in a accusatory frown when she watched Wilfred engaged in a quite intense coughing fit, while drenched to the core like a soaked cat in pungent smelling beer.

“Care to enlighten me as to why on earth you look like a ragged beaver who just took a dip at the city's brewery?” Emma asked.

“I… uuh…” Wilfred stammered – rubbing drops of beer off his face – before unleashing another burst of coughs.

Emma looked at her daughter with a glare that asked for explanation.

“Hey, I'm all transfixed to this blockbuster over here.” Celeste held her hands up in innocence.

Emma sighed, “You know what? I don't wanna know. Just, please, clean this mess up. And yourself.”

Lost for words, Wilfred stood up – feeling all of his clothing sticking against his skin and made way for the stairs. He threw a quick gander at Celeste – partly because he wanted to admire her legs one swift time, but mostly because he wanted to see her reaction to all of this.

The brat shrunk me! And then restored me. Just like that!

She was still ignoring him, or so she tried. Wilfred saw Celeste's eyes all transfixed on the screen – watching that horrible movie – as he walked by. He did saw her pretty face smirking despite that nothing funny was happening on the screen.

“Ugh! Go upstairs, please. I'll clean it up here. You're ruining the floor.” Emma said. “How can there be so much liquid in such a small bottle anyway? You're soaked!”

Sloshing up the stairs – while smudging the carpeted steps with puddles of penetrant smelling beer – Wilfred made his way toward the bathroom.
After taking a warm shower, he stuck his hand out through the curtain to grab a towel from the top shelf.

*Miss*

“The hell?”

*Missed again*

Having a mental notion in his head about the shelf’s position, Wilfred always reached his hand out, blindly, and never missed.
Yanking the curtain aside Wilfred saw that the shelf and the pack of towels was still there, only that it hung significantly higher than usual. He was unable to reach it. Then it clicked.
The brat shrunk me again!
Irritated, Wilfred stormed out of the shower cabin to see if Celeste was sniggering around the corner in the hallway.
Enough is enough! I will confront her, right here right now!
Slamming the door open he looked from side to side. The hallway was empty. Wilfred frowned when he heard both Emma and Celeste talking to each other downstairs.

“Drat! Its happening again.” Before Wilfred knew it, he was hanging for dear life on the doorknob, like a swinging monkey – at the size of about a barbie doll.

How?! She can't even see me!

As he heard the women downstairs gibbering and sniggering about his beer clumsiness from earlier, Wilfred's eyes stretched wide open as he saw Simba, the housecat, approaching him with curiosity.

“Away, cat! Shoosh! Nothing to see here.”

Wilfred screamed for help just when Simba was about to jump up to him – with razor-sharp nails at the ready. He braced himself for the inevitable.
A bitch-like scream, a thump and nails in his arms followed one another in a flash. Wilfred opened his eyes and saw Simba scurrying off. He was full sized again, sitting with his butt on the floor.
Glad he only came off with a few bloody scratches on his arm after his confrontation with a jumbo-sized cat, Wilfred breezed a sigh of relief.

“Everything okay up there?” Emma's voice called out from below.

“Y-yes, hon. I'll be right there!”

He pulled himself together, donned some clean clothing – and made sure to cover the scratches – and sauntered downstairs.

“Here, a coke. No more beer for you this evening, mister.” Emma pinched him in the belly and placed a cold bottle of cola on the table.

“Thx, hon.” Wilfred gave a kiss on his wife's cheek.

He turned around, slumped down on the couch and reached his hand out to pick up the bottle. Nothing was there. Only the coaster on the table. “Where is the coke?”

Even before finishing the sentence, Wilfred's eyes already drifted toward Celeste.

Is the girl playing with me again?

“It's right there, duffer!” Emma pointed at the table.
Wilfred blinked a few times with his eyes as the bottle of coke was just standing there – on top of the coaster which was empty merely a second ago.

“Are you holding me for a ride here, Wil?” Emma asked.

Wilfred gave an uncomfortable chuckle. “No, hon. I wouldn't dare. There are just… strange things happening around this house, don't you think?”

“Like what?” Emma said

“Yeah, like what?” Celeste chimed in.

Wilfred looked at both his wife and Celeste and then shook his head. “Nevermind… I'm just tired, that's all. I'm off to bed.”

“But you will miss the best part!” Celeste pointed at the screen – playing the cheap-ass werewolf movie.

“I'll will watch the rerun in the morning.” Wilfred gave his stepdaughter a wry smile. He stood up, kissed his wife goodbye and sauntered toward the hallway. But before he left, he looked one last time at Celeste. She was looking at him intensely – with a highly fulfilled smirk adorning her perfect young face. She said nothing, but Wilfred did not need words to know what the girl was thinking at the moment. It was like her countenance stated, “I can shrink you anywhere and anytime I want.”

This new development in Celeste's powers appeared to be one major psychological drainage for Wilfred's daily life. Living under one roof with his uber-sexy stepdaughter had always been a hefty challenge for him. It was hard for Wilfred to pretend like he did not find Celeste incredibly attractive while in the presence of his wife – especially when the brat sauntered by in one of her outrageously scantily dressed outfits. Those exceedingly enticing curves on the girl's body were too much for every straight man to bear without sinking into a state of mindless drooling as she gallivanted through one's purview. Lucky for Wilfred, the girl was not always home. So there was a good chunk of the day whereby Wilfred did not have to worry about carefully veiling his uncanny attraction towards his stepdaughter. He also did not have to deal with her witty mouth all the time for the simple fact that she was not always in his presence all the time.
However, now with Celeste's new powers – which not only gave her the ability to alter someone's size but also allowed her to use it while dwelling in another room than her target – it became harder for Wilfred to maintain a sense of safety. Especially when he stayed in his own home – rather Celeste was in the house or not. He was always on edge. He was fairly sure that Celeste needed to be within some given range of her target for her powers to work. For this reason, Wilfred became very creative in telling excuses to his wife as to why he was needed at work again. He had to be cautious, though. Or Emma might get the impression that Wilfred was having some extramarital affair – if she wasn't already thinking that. Celeste had not attempted another go in shrinking him after her latest prank during movie night. She mostly ignored him, like she had done so for multiple years. However, she kept reminding him of her powers by shrinking and growing objects in the house – just to mess with him. Next to that, there was always the continuous threat hanging in the air – the threat that Celeste could simply shrink Wilfred down if the wish was there. And a knowledge like that weighed heavily on his psychological health. It felt like Wilfred was always in danger while staying under the same roof as his stepdaughter. A thing which Celeste had definitely noticed – and which she took eagerly advantage from.

"Now, where is the goddamn basil? I asked you like 5 times already!" Emma snapped while stirring in a saucepan in the kitchen.

"And I already told you like 6 times that it's not here!" Wilfred snapped back while his eyes darted through the kitchen – in search of a green-colored spice jar.

"Have you checked the side table?"

"Checking it right now. For the umpteenth time. I'm telling you, darling, it's not here."

Emma pushed out a groan of frustration. "Step aside. Let me see this. I'm quite positive that I placed the thing on– here, see?" she pushed the jar containing basil in Wilfred's face to see. "Are you even using your eyes?"

"I am!" Wilfred frowned, scratching his head. "I know what I saw. It wasn't there!"

"Well, then something is mightily wrong with your eyes because this is not the first time you've missed something so obvious."

Wilfred snorted. "You're exaggerating."

"Am I? What about your car keys last time? An hour, Wilfred, and you still could not see them while I spotted them in the blink of an eye. And your socks? Those things are painfully white and were laying on a pitch-black stool and you still weren't able to see them!"

"Don't forget the shoes," Celeste's voice called out from the living room – joining into the conversation. As usual, the girl lay slumped on the couch – snacking from a bag of chips while watching television.

"What about my shoes?" Wilfred said curtly, irritated that his stepdaughter was mingling in.

"Yesterday, the poor lad rummaged about for nearly half an hour in the hallway searching for his shoes while they just stood there in plain sight," Celeste said with an overdramatic voice.

Emma grabbed Wilfred's hands. "I'm serious, Fred. I'm starting to get a bit concerned about your health. Maybe you should see an ophthalmologist."

Wilfred yanked his hands free. "Don't be ridiculous! There's nothing wrong with my eyes. I can see you, can I? I can also read the number plate of that blue chevy across the street. It's just…" he eyed his stepdaughter. "Strange things are happening around here. Hey, Celes!" he walked over to her, crossing his arms and slightly surprised by his own audacity. "I heard someone in the neighborhood testified to the police that it was you who was seen near Sonny right before his disappearance."

"Yeah, so?" Celeste smacked undisturbed while stuffing another handful of chips in her mouth.

"So, I think you should not be surprised when you receive a visitor one of these days, in the form of cop – asking if you have some valuable information about the boy's disappearance."

Celeste looked up – a bit nettled that she was disturbed while watching her favorite tv show. She noticed that her mother also showed up, standing next to Wilfred. "Well, you know what I'm gonna tell him?" she said.

"What?"

"I'm gonna tell him my little secret, that I shrunk the boy down and stuffed him in my drawer for safekeeping." Celeste smiled.
Emma rolled with her eyes, shook her head and returned to the kitchen.

Wilfred continued. "And what if the cop asks you to grow the boy back to normal so he can be reunited with his father again?"

"Then I'm going to tell him that that is impossible because the boy is dead, trampled to a bloody pulp by a misplaced step."

"And what if another person – one who's aware of your little dark secret – threatens you to tell anyone about it if you don't stop harassing him?"

"Uhm… then, I would probably say something like 'hey, be my guest!', are you done now? I'm watching Fame or Shame here, and you're babbling through the best part."

"Yeah, I'm done." Wilfred turned around, strolling back to the kitchen with mingled feelings. On the one hand, Wilfred finds Celeste's mind games properly vexing, but on the other hand, he finds her display of power also incredibly arousing. She has so much control over him and his life. While his manly pride urged him to rise up against the frivolities of his bratty stepdaughter, another part of him – a deeply embedded part – wanted nothing more than to be degraded by her.

"Hey, Wilfred?" Celeste called out. Wilfred looked over his shoulder and could not resist the urge to take a quick glance at those preposterous toned and smooth legs of her - protruding beneath a loose-fitting sleep short. "You might want to watch your car. I heard there are car thieves active in the night lately." Celeste looked at him with a sly smirk while pointing at the couch.
Right next to Celeste's resting thigh, Wilfred could see at least three seemingly toy cars sprawled out on their side. Wilfred knew better, though. These things were anything but toys.

"Yeah, I heard it too on the news this morning, Fred." Emma's voice chimed in from the kitchen. "Several cars throughout the neighborhood are gone missing. Vanished in thin air. The police stated they are facing a mystery here."

Celeste chuckled heartily and stuffed another handful of chips in her mouth as her gleeful eyes followed Wilfred who hasted his ass towards the window to take a peek outside. He gave a sigh of relief.

"Just relax. Your car's still there, dummy." Celeste's mouth smacked shamelessly as her teeth crunched another handful of chips to smithereens. "I was only warning you, you know."

"Hey, wanna see a cool trick?" Celeste whispered.

Wilfred tore his eyes away from his beloved parked, white sports s.u.v. and looked at his bratty stepdaughter sitting on the couch in simple, sloppy garbs. It did not matter what the girl was wearing for Wilfred, though. She always looked stunning, no matter what. She probably would be even if her body was wrapped up in a bin bag.
Wilfred saw the three 'toy' cars resting upon Celeste's hand.

"I can make things disappear, here watch," Celeste whispered. "Abracadabra, and… |Here. They. Go."

Wilfred looked with wide eyes as he saw all three cars shrinking even smaller – dwindling down further until they were impossible to see with the naked eye.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Celeste looked at him in a way that hoped for a standing o.

Wilfred sighed, "What do you want from me?" he said softly enough so that Emma could not hear him.
Celeste handed him a piece of written paper. Unfolding it, Wilfred started reading. He chuckled when he realized it was a wish list.

"When did you fabricated this?"

"An hour ago," Celeste said while her eyes were glued to the television.

"Chanel, Burberry, Gucci…. You don't ask for much now, do you?" Wilfred said.

Celeste smiled.

Wilfred kept reading. "These other names... let me guess, high heels, right?"

Celeste nodded. "And boots. Don't forget the boots."

"Of course, the boots. Silly me."

Wilfred read some more. "A meet and greet with Johnny Depp?"

Celeste shrugged. "Yeah, why not? He's my childhood idol. And besides, he's still quite handsome despite his age."

"And how do you expect me to arrange a thing like that?" Wilfred asked.

Celeste shrugged again. "You've got money, right?"

"Yeah, so? Do you think mister Depp here is eager for my money? The guy got plenty of his own."

"You're a smart guy, Wilfred. You'll figure something out."

After a deep sigh, Wilfred was about to stuff the piece of paper in his back pocket. Then Celeste gestured that he was not finished yet.

"You've read the lowest line?" Celeste asked.
Wilfred frowned at her while unfolding the piece of paper again. As he read it, his eyes shifted toward his sports s.u.v. stationed outside.

"That one?" he asked. "the same model?"

"Mmm," Celeste nodded. "Only red. I really love red. It's my favorite color."

"Why don't you get one yourself, huh? With powers like yours, stealing one will be a breeze." Wilfred said.

Celeste smiled. "Well, you're right about that. Stealing one is like child's play for me now. However, driving around in a stolen car would not make me feel very comfortable now, would it? I need one, Wilfred. Legally bought and registered on my name. And I need it before next Friday."

"Next Friday?!"

"Yeah, I'm going on a road trip with some friends of mine, and I want to impress them."

Wilfred shook his head while giving a peal of wry laughter. "You know what I'm gonna do, Celes?"

"No, please enlighten me."

"I'm going to," he clenched his hand into a fist. "compress this... this thing into a compact wad of paper and…" Wilfred's hand flicked to the side, throwing it in Celeste's direction – it landed with a thud on her nose.

"Don't tell me you just threw a crumbled piece of paper in the middle of my face?" Celeste said as her eyes stared at him dead serious.

"I just threw a crumbled piece of paper in the middle of your face," Wilfred said with a gleeful smile.

Wilfred looked about – all frantic – when all the walls started to creak and rumble. It seemed like the whole room was contracting.

"What the?..." blasted brat is shrinking the entire house!

"Celes, stop it!" Wilfred screeched. "You're going to–"

"Aaaah!!! What is happening here? Earthquake! Earthquake!" Emma screeched. "Get under the table right–"

BANG!

Wilfred gaped at Emma, who lay on the ground with splayed limbs – unconscious – after her head was hit by a falling piece of ceiling rubble.

"Celes!" Wilfred screamed louder. He gulped when Celes stood up from the couch, looming over him.

She's shrinking me!

He swallowed deep and craned his neck as he saw Celeste's body rising higher and higher. She was humongous now! No, it was he who was little. Tiny like a bug.

SLAM!

Wilfred fell on his butt when Celeste slammed her car-sized feet right next to him.

"Celeste, please, stop it! Your mother for godsakes!"

"You're going to meet my wishes?" Celeste's voice boomed in his ears. The teenage beauty towered over him like a vengeful Goddess.

"Yes! Yes! Anything, just… restore me so I can check on my wife, please!"

With that, Wilfred felt his body growing again, restored to its original size. The house seemed to look normal, too, besides some cracks here and there in the walls. He watched Celeste sauntering off, wiggling sensually with that tight ass of her, going upstairs to her bedroom. He hastily stood up to check on Emma. Thank god! She was still breathing. But she had a serious wound on her head. He quickly grabbed his phone and dialed the emergency services.

Bending around a corner, Stefano quickened his pace with the main aim of not getting late for school again. He frowned and slowed his pace when he saw a girl roughly his age crouching down in the middle of the sidewalk. Her head was tilted forward – like she was looking at the floor – with her hair draped over her ears.

"Everything alright?" Stefano asked.

The girl looked up, meeting his eyes. Stefano's breath choked to a halt. The girl was gorgeous! With a face so pretty, it made Stefano afraid he would befoul it with his impudent glare. And she looked vaguely familiar too.

Perhaps a student from one of the higher classes? A senior?

The girl merely lowered her eyes again, aiming them at the pavement.

Stefano followed her stare and narrowed his eyes. Ants? Freaking ants were teeming about – crawling like vermin over paving stones in great numbers.

"What are you doing?" Stefano crouched down next to her, curious.

He scrutinized the girl's eyes. They seemed… strained with focus. Watching the ants, Stefano's eyes blinked as he saw some of them shrinking in size while others grew a tiny bit. They started to attack each other.

A school bus – jam-packed with rowdy kids – came to a stop at a traffic light right next to them. The girl stood up, held her hand up like she was waving at someone. Then, a sardonic grin formed on her luscious lips as she slowly wrapped her hand into a fist. The bus started shrinking – down to the size of a car, a bike, a handcart, dwindling rapidly until it appeared nothing more than a handheld object standing in the middle of the road.

A cacophony of panicked screeches – coming from the shrunken school bus – reached Stefano's ear as he gaped up at the girl. Was this her doing? The girl walked off and made her way toward the handheld-sized school bus – who was already attempting to get away with screeching tires. Stefano was sparked with fear, every fiber in his being urged him strongly to get away from this girl as far away as possible. He stayed nonetheless because he was curious – even though it felt like giving in to this curiosity would seal his fate. But what the hell. Deep down, Stefano knew that his fate was already sealed the moment he chose to converse with this girl. He might as well enjoy the sight of her tight, denim ass galivanting there sensually.

Celeste hated to chase the school bus, so her will merely ordered the universe to shrink it down even more. The universe obeyed. The school bus ended up bug-sized and on its side – after it was roughly knocked over when Celeste's crashing sneaker cut off its escape route. Celeste picked the miniature bus up, placed it on her hand, and observed it for a moment. It still intrigued her to see a miniature vehicle. It looked so highly detailed. It was like looking at a perfectly fabricated toy. But this bus – and its passengers – were the real thing, with real-life people, only shrunken down to a ridiculously small size. Celeste's thumb and index finger picked the bus up again and placed it on the nail of her middle finger. It dangled dangerously from side to side. Then, Celeste's will gave another order. The bus shrunk down even tinier. Celeste sniggered as her narrowed eyes saw the louse-sized bus driving every which way on the now football-field-sized nail. This act was nothing for her – just the tip of the iceberg. Celeste could feel that her potential was tremendous. She was capable of doing so much more. All she needed was time and practice. And then who knows where it would all end. World domination? Celeste chuckled. The very thought…

"W-what are you going to do to them, miss?"

Celeste spun her head – annoyed that someone was interrupting her moment of delight. Her eyes fell on a meager young boy gaping back at her like he was staring at some unleashed tigress during feeding time.

Oh, that's right. I was not alone. Celeste thought.

"Tsk, tsk," Celeste shook her head like a patronizing mom. "you know, I totally forgot about you." she dropped the bus inside her cleavage while sauntering toward the boy. "You should have used this opportunity to get away instead of gawking at me like some drooling, disabled person."

"Stand up!" Celeste said.

The boy obeyed. He sprang up and stood at attention – tightly as a tuned guitar string.

Celeste started circling him with her hands placed on her back.

"Do you find me attractive, boy?" Celeste said while ending her third circle right in front of him. Her hands were placed on her hips. Just when Celeste thought the boy would not answer – which would have made her quite upset – he gave a curt nod.

Celeste smiled. Even though she already knew the answer, it was always good to see your own assumption being confirmed.

"Okay here is the deal. I dare you to stare for at least one minute at that black pointy ProTech tower behind me in the far distance without blinking your eyes, got it?"

Celeste was pleased to see that the boy did not even question her odd instruction. He merely aimed his stare at the appointed object. Good, that's exactly how it should be. There was a reason why Celeste had chosen the ProTech building as a target. Next to the fact that it was one of the most distinctive structures of the city – soaring majestically high above the rest – it was also the chief competitor's head office of the firm where Wilfred was working for. She couldn't wait to see his face when she got home.

Celeste closed her eyes, inhaled deep and focused intensely. She was on the verge of doing something she hadn't tried before. Despite that, Celeste had plenty of confidence. There was this inner knowing that she would succeed, no matter what. For a moment, Celeste considered trying to shrink Wilfred down. If she had understood it correctly, her stepdad should be in the middle of some meeting right now on the other side of town. Some stunt would that be. Celeste shied away from the thought and aimed her inner arrows at the majestic building behind her. She couldn't see the building, but she knew how it looked like and that it was there – and that was all it took. She had a clear mental image of the building and its presumed inhabitants and ordered the universe to make it shrink – smaller and smaller. Celeste peeled her eyes open, watched the boy's eyes standing before her, and smiled broadly. His eyes just blinked… and again as they stared in utter disbelief at a point far behind Celeste. It was working! Celeste just knew it. There was no need for her to turn around to see the building shrinking with her own eyes. The boy's glare told her enough. His eyes met hers – punctuated with fear.

"You've lost," Celeste said dryly. Before the boy was even able to gulp, he too started to dwindle down in size rapidly. A squeaky sound that had to go for a pitiful scream of terror escaped Stefano's mouth when Celeste made short work of his bug-sized existence by stomping him to a bloody smear on the pavement with the underside of her sneaker.

Picking up her rucksack, Celeste's hand rummaged about in it. Fishing out her mobile phone, Celeste's fingers tapped on the screen with lightning speed. A snigger escaped her pretty lips when various eyewitness footages were already going viral on the web of her recent stunt. People were screaming. People were talking like crazy in the camera of their phones when right behind them, a skyscraper was dwindling in size at a rapid pace. Throngs of people came storming out of the dwindling building – all in precisely the same size in comparison with the tower the moment they exited it. The more people poured out of the gates, the smaller they got. They ceased shrinking when they stood outside of a certain radius from the building. It was hilarious for Celeste to watch. To see groups of people of different sizes standing next to each other while watching ProTech's head office dwindling down to a mere handheld object. Celeste felt a deep urge to collect the freshly shrunken building. She desperately wanted to know how it felt to hold such a magnificent building in the palm of her hand. Not to mention all those hundreds of teeming personnel still stuffed in it. She pushed the thought aside for now. It was better to not draw more attention than necessary.

No one could even have the slightest suspicion that it was her doing. No one, besides Wilfred – her stepdad. No worries there, though. Celeste had him over a barrel. He would definitely not try to do anything stupid.

"How are you feeling, hon? Wilfred asked as he walked into the kitchen, where his wife was rummaging about crockery and cutlery in the sink.

"Fine, fine… I think. It's just… I had to vomit this morning at work. Again. And I couldn't get the gist of certain things that were being discussed during team-meeting. God! I hate that, to not being able to keep up. That's so new to me. They are all just like simple Toyota's and Honda's out there. I should be ahead of the curve. I'm a freakin Maybach!"

"A Maybach with a faltering engine which needs maintenance and more importantly, rest. Don't be so hard on yourself, darling. You've suffered from a severe concussion only recently. It'll take some time before you'll be your old self again. Why don't you take some time off?"

"I still find it weird, though." Emma ignored Wilfred's advice. "There are absolutely no reports, no headlines whatsoever about this earthquake. Nobody I've spoken has heard about it. Are we going nuts here, Fred?"

"Trust me," Wildred grabbed his wife's arms. "this earthquake was as real as it can get."

"But how?"

"These things can occur pretty locally," Wilfred said. "I've seen it on National Geographic once. One gets caught up so violently that it feels like he's living on a lively huge vibro-trainer that just got turned on, while the other, living nearby, is drinking hot coffee without spilling a single drop.

"Not within the range of a single house. Even I know that and National Geographic should know that too."

"What are you doing?" Emma asked as she saw Wilfred grabbing a long drink glass from the cupboard to pour in some Sprite.

"What does it look like? Pouring in some Sprite."

"You hate Sprite."

"It's not for me."

"I hate it too."

Wilfred turned around, facing his wife. "Yeah, well, then there is only one person left to whom I need to give this, am I right?" he said curtly before walking off.

Emma peeked around the corner from the kitchen and saw Wilfred handing his drink over to her daughter – who sat, not entirely surprising, like some dumped sack of flour on the couch in her PJ shorts. Emma's frown sank even deeper when she saw Celeste instructing Wilfred to place the drink on the side table instead of on the coffee table – because that was more convenient to her. Wilfred's trouble to get her a drink was already a kind gesture. So her wish to serve it on the side table instead of on the coffee table was kind of ungrateful. Especially since Wilfred had to stand up again from the couch after serving the drink on the coffee table in the first place. An act like that started to reek like servanthood.

"Ah, bloody! I forgot my drink. And JUST when I'm finally sitting comfy next to my lovely husband." Emma said after slumping down on the couch. She looked at Wilfred, smiling, giving him a meaningful glance that seemed to say, 'would you be a darling and fetch me my drink?'

Emma scowled when Wilfred merely smiled back at her before returning his attention to the television.

"Is it good?" Emma said.

It took a moment before Celeste figured out that her mother was addressing her. She finished her Sprite – taking a long and final swig – before using the back of her forearm to wipe her mouth clean.

"Yes," Celeste nodded. "It's good. Nice and cold. Just the way I like it. Thank you, Wilfred!" she granted him a gleaming smile which he eagerly returned.

"That's good to hear, hon." Emma smiled. "Always nice to know you're being waited on hand and foot. And of course! MTV! Your favorite channel blasting in the living room for all to hear. The party ain't complete without it, right?"

"What are you babbling about, mom?" Celeste scowled.

"Yes, Wilfred, what THE HELL am I babbling about here?" Emma looked at her husband in a way like he knew precisely the thrust of her words.

Wilfred shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "To be honest, darling, I was wondering the same thing. You're acting kind of odd."

"I am acting kind of?!–" Emma gave a peal of derisive laughter. "You," she pointed at Wilfred. "who is even lazier than a koala on a valium overdose is serving Queen Celeste here like a goddamn, obsequious lapdog and you're calling me odd?"

"He's just being nice." Celeste backed Wilfred. "Which is more than I can say for some other occupants in this room. And what's with this Queen stuff?"

"And you!" Emma aimed her index finger at Celeste now. "slumping on the couch to watch TV, day in day out, like a retired prime minister with a loss of purpose in life. For godsakes, DO something with your life here, Celes!"

"Well, for your information, mom, I'm watching Jackass right now, which happens to be a most educational program about the stupidity of people and the need for laughter in a man's life – which subsequently gets sated by this same stupidity. I mean, look at that guy!" Celeste guffawed while pointing at the screen. "that tree branch must have shattered his nuts!"

"That's just downright sadistic what they do there. And so are you for liking it. Give me the remote." Emma reached her hand out.

Wilfred sat there meekly, sipping his beer as he watched Celeste brazenly ignoring her mother. She continued to giggle about another moronic act being performed on TV that would trigger a surge of vicarious shame with even the biggest rat-brain on the planet.

The remote was lying on the coffee table – out of reach of Emma but within Celeste's.

Emma stood up and right at that moment, Celeste's hand shot out to snatch away the remote. She kept it firmly within her grasp while at the same time ignoring her mother's existence altogether.

"You give that thing here! Right now!" Emma said.

Celeste merely took a full hand of popcorn and stuffed it in her mouth, chomping them away like a famished desert camel which gives a damn about what others might think of his table manners.

"One!" Emma started counting, popping up a finger and raising her voice. "Two!"

"That strategy stopped working when I was like 8 years old. What makes you think it will work now?" Celeste muffled with her mouth full of popcorn without averting her eyes from the television screen. She leaned back even deeper on the couch, getting all comfy while wrapping one leg over the other. Both ladies were utterly unaware of Wilfred's protruded eyes, drooling shamelessly at the sight of Celeste's firm ass showing off its majestic presence in all of its curvy gloriousness as it was pointed in his direction.

"Is this going to be your future now, Celeste? Confined to a life of a TV addict? You think this is going to make you…" Emma stopped talking when Celeste turned the volume ridiculously up.

"This isn't your home, young lady! Turn it down, right now! "

"Will you quit your shouting? I can barely hear myself speaking here!" Celeste snapped.

Emma dashed forward, determined to take the remote away from Celeste.

"Hey! Don't touch me! Ouch! You're hurting me, mom!"

"Give it to ME!" Emma's arms groped about fiercely with the main purpose of stealing the remote firmly clutched within Celeste's grasp.

"You're scratching me, mom! Just get– aaargh!" Celeste leaped up and threw the remote against the wall to smithereens. "There! Now no one gets that damned thing!"

SMACK!

Wilfred looked wide-eyed as Celeste caressed her right cheek after she received a full-out slap in the face of her mother. Her shocked expression quickly churned into a look of approaching thunder. It was a look Wilfred remembered far too well. It made the teen girl appear even more comely than she already was – and more dangerous too, especially with those powers of her. The ground started to shake. An occurrence outside caught Wilfred's attention where he saw several cars shrinking down at the same time. A row of trees followed. People followed. A jogger, an old man with a dog, some kids who were playing on a basketball court – they all started to shrink down at a rapid pace. Wilfred saw even a seven stories high apartment building a few blocks away dwindling in size – vanishing from sight behind some houses. It became a pandemonium in the streets. Emma looked shocked and puzzled as she too started to notice things that were only supposed to happen in cheap movies and fairy tales.

Wilfred walked up to Celeste – whose rage was still building up within her by the look of it. He whispered something in her ear. The trembling stopped. The shrinking stopped. Celeste simmered down.

"You're good?" Wilfred asked.

Celeste nodded. She took one glance at her mother while touching her marked red cheek before marching off upstairs. Outside, everything and everyone returned back to normal.

Emma looked at Wilfred. "W-Wilfred, what is happening here?"

After smashing a few buttons on his keyboard and clicks on his mouse, Wilfred waited patiently for his conversation partner to emerge on the screen.

"Well, that took long,”

Wilfred stared at Celeste's displeased countenance beaming from his laptop screen. He hated himself and felt disgusted when a tent was being hoisted in his pants. He could not help it, though. Since their first introduction, he has been intensely physically attracted to Celeste. She looked even more appealing now with the tanned layer on her comely face – courtesy of the exotic sun burning ceaselessly in a cloudless blue sky on her holiday destination.

A few drops of water trickled along her face and bare shoulders – persistent stragglers from her dip in the sea she took mere minutes before plunging down in her hammock. Celeste shook her head twice from side to side, flapping her lengthy hair like she was making a vain attempt to cleanse the wet look from it – which was also a feature that made her look more tempting than ever.

Wilfred watched with big eyes as he saw Celeste grabbing a big bite that looked like a double Quarter Pounder with cheese – with drips of ketchup and slices of pickle squeezing out on the sides. Celeste devoured it like an animal – munching one bite after the other.

"What time is it again there? 10 a.m., right?" Wilfred asked, looking at his watch.

Celeste nodded, taking another large bite, while shamelessly eating with her mouth half open.

"And you're eating a burger?... For breakfast?..."

"Mmm," Celeste nodded while chewing like it was the most normal thing ever to eat junk food for breakfast.

"Hey, listen," Celeste said with her mouth still full. "you've gotta help me out here, Fred."

Oh, boy…

There was only one thing Celeste could need from her stepdad. Money.

"Sure thing, Celes," he politely said while simultaneously fearing her request. "what can I do for you?"

"You know The Oasis, right?"

Wilfred nodded. "That Casino you mean? On Sunglow Boulevard?"

"That's right! Because you see, here is the thing. Dany and I went for a quick spin at the roulette table last night. And, I swear Wilfred, the girl was on a roll! She kept winning and winning and winning!"

Here it comes…

"Yeah, and?..." Wilfred prodded Celeste to cut to the chase.

But Celeste was not done yet. "So you see, I told Dany about my feelings of guilt I had towards you. You gave me this awesome sports car, loaned me all this money to go on vacation with my friends and all."

Loaned? Wilfred thought with a chuckle. The girl never mentioned anything about giving it all back in the future.

"So I desperately wanted to return the favor, Wilfred. I really, REALLY wanted!" She whined while closing her pretty face in on the camera with guilt-ridden eyes. "Sooooo….–"

"So you've gambled all of your money on one number in the hopes that Dany's spree of luck would aid you in becoming filthy rich." Wilfred took over.

"I, uhm... yeah."

"And you've lost it. All of it."

"Yes. Yes I did," Celeste scratched her nose. Wilfred sighed.

"But that's not all." She added after a moment of silence.

Wilfred cocked an eyebrow.

Celeste cleared her throat. "Well, you see, I also like…–"

Wilfred rolled with his eyes. "You've sold the car and used the money to place another bet – which you've also lost." He expressed his assumption.

Celeste lowered her eyes. The only thing Wilfred could think about at that moment was how beautiful Celeste looked, even while being sad. This was the moment where he should scold her for her irresponsible behavior. The girl had gambled away a substantial fortune in one night. But all Wilfred could do at that moment was to admire Celeste's breathtakingly facial features. Her high, sculpted cheekbones and those plush lips, that were framed on the underside by a narrow chin. Wilfred's eyes wandered off shamelessly to Celeste's chest. When he was sure that her eyes were still looking down, he took his chance and ogled her marvelous and juicy spheres – that were tightly packed within a white swimsuit top. His manhood rooted about in his underwear – like a snake who was poked awake from hibernation – when Wilfred's brain started creating evocative images. He saw himself at the size of a crumb while clambering along the curvy surface of Celeste's healthy bosom. Wilfred was quite alarmed about the development of Celeste's powers, though. He feared it. But at the same time, he was also intrigued by it.

The girl could shrink people, cars, whole buildings even. And multiple at the same time. Wilfred recalled Celeste's outburst from last week, whereby she shrunk down a good portion of the neighborhood during her stare-down with her mother.

Could a scale like that be the limit of her power?

Scientists from around the world were mystified by this occurrence. Pro tech's tower was subjected to a thorough investigation as to why it suddenly shrunk down to the size of a finger in the middle of the day – its poor employees included, some of them smaller even a sprinkle. No one knew who or what could have caused such a supernatural event. No one, besides Wilfred and his wife.

To soothe Celeste's whims, Wilfred had offered her enough money to go on a round-the-globe trip with her friends. And it worked, for now. Celeste had not used her powers for almost a week, at least as far as Wilfred knew. Celeste was far too occupied with trying out her brand new Porsche Cayenne – that was transported to her with urgent delivery. And now all of her money was gone, the car included. Wilfred had feared that something like that would happen. The girl will most likely ask him for more money – which he frankly did not want to give her. Wilfred had plundered a good chunk of his savings to buy her a car and had given her enough money for a trip around the world. This would hopefully allow Wilfred and his wife plenty of time to ponder their next course of action. Because what kind of advice would one give to a married couple whose daughter was able to shrink people and stuff down to microscopic proportions with the sheer power of her will?

It gave Wilfred also a sense of safety. He did not know the scope of her powers, but he was pretty confident that she would not be able to use it on him when she was staying on the other side of the continent.

"Is mom there, by the way?" Celeste asked, shaking Wilfred out of his moment of contemplation.

"She's working at the moment. I'll tell her you called."

Celeste sighed. "She's always working when I call."

"She's in the midst of a hefty project."

"Yeah, I know. You've told me the same thing last time. But a mother has time for her daughter, right?" Celeste's voice started to rise in volume as her eyes began to look fiercer.

"She does, Celeste. I promise you, she does."

"So where is she then? She does not answer my calls. I haven't spoken to her in days!"

"I… uhm…"

"I want my mom, Wilfred! Give me my mom!" Celeste sobbed. "Fix it!"

Wilfred rose his hands up. "I will, Celeste. I will, I promise."

"You bet you are!"

Wilfred watched, baffled when it looked like a pencil was floating in mid-air right in front of Celeste's comely face.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Celeste beamed. "Learned it just yesterday. Whoops!" Celeste chuckled when the pen fell down. "I'm still practicing here, as you can see."

Oh my God! Wilfred thought with despair. The girl could harness the power of telekinesis now. Her capabilities are still minor. But Wilfred did not dare to think about the consequences when the girl could use it on a large scale – combined with her size manipulating powers. She would be like a slumbering nuke bomb, ready to unleash catastrophe whenever she flew off the handle.

"How did you…"

"Knew that I could?" Celeste finished Wilfred's sentence. She shrugged, grabbed her half-finished burger again, and took a bite. "Don't know. I just tried it, and I could."

Wilfred swallowed hard. What more is this girl capable of?  "Have you tried like… doing other things?"

"Nah, just this." Celeste took a long swig from a glass of coke and pushed out a small burp.

"But hey, listen, you've got some money for me, right Fred? I mean, I know it's my fault and I'm sorry and all, but I'm stuck here and can't go anywhere without it."

"What about your friends?"

"Dead broke, all three of them." Celeste took another swig of her coke while pulling up one leg so that she was able to rest her elbow on her knee. It gave Wilfred a marvelous sight of Celeste's bare leg – splendidly tanned and unblemished. "So you see, Fred. You're the only one who can save us here. You're not gonna leave us to fate now, are you?”

"Well?" Celeste cocked an eyebrow while urging Wilfred to spill out his answer – and preferably one where he promises to accommodate her monetary needs.

As Wilfred gaped back at his demanding stepdaughter looking at him through the screen of his laptop, he already knew what he was going to do. However, he took his time, though, as he made sure to observe every juicy and immaculate part of that hot body and angelic face to imprint it in his head. He would use these mental images of his gorgeous stepdaughter later. But not much later. Most likely within a few minutes from now. When he was sure that his brain had memorized some clear and crisp images of Celeste's beautiful, suntanned face and her delicious bosom he–

SLAM!

Snapped his laptop shut right after giving Celeste a curt smile and a wink.

"Take that! Bitch!" he said while placing his intertwined hands behind his head and leaning back deep in his chair.

Wilfred fumbled at his pants and made haste to pull out his member. His gentleman stood already stiff as a board – unyieldingly straight and with pumping blue veins meandering along its above-average long shaft. His cock was reporting for duty and more than ready to squirt his load of warm sticky substance to ooze along Wilfred's belly.

Wilfred closed his eyes and went to work. His cold hand took hold of his warm member and he started to stroke, up and down. As he did, Wilfred's brain used the freshly stored images of his stepdaughter to create vibrant sceneries where she was a cruel giantess, towering over whole minuscule civilizations as a Goddess.

This is precisely what Wilfred wanted from the start. He did not have the urge to bond with his stepdaughter. Screw that! He wanted her to hate him, so she would use her powers on him with evil intentions. That was also the reason why he cut of their conversation like that, to rile her. Celeste would definitely throw a hissy fit after seeing her screen going blank like that. Wilfred wanted her to get an outburst.

Wilfred was highly impressed by the magnitude of Celeste's powers during the spat she had with her mother a few days ago. The radiance of influence of her powers was even more significant than Wilfred first thought. He had a hunch that extreme emotional reactions sped things up in the development of Celeste's powers.

That day, he could only use the view out of the window to assess her powers. And that was already very impressive, for he saw multiple people, cars and buildings even getting shrunken down in the neighborhood. However, later that day, when this unnatural event was being discussed during a special news broadcast – Wilfred learned that Celeste's influence had a maximum reach of a few miles even, whereby she could shrink down the height of an aqueduct a bunch of inches even. The mast of a sailing ship that was just bobbing under it snapped like a twig. Luckily, Celeste restored everything after her outburst. Whether she did that on purpose or not was still up for debate in Wilfred's head.

Bzzzzzz Bzzzzzz

Wilfred ceased his moment of one-man pleasure to check out his phone that started buzzing like crazy. A smile crept on his face. It was Celeste calling him, just as expected. He knew darn well that an act like that would vex her even more. He simply leaned back in his chair even deeper now, giving his gentleman a full warm grip of his hand. Another call followed, and another, and another. And plenty more after that, all from the same caller, his stepdaughter.

BLING!

A message came in on his phone.

BLING! BLING BLING BLING!

And some more.

Wilfred leisurely continued.

"Fred?! Wilfred?! You're there?"

Annoyed, Wilfred looked over his shoulder as he heard the voice of his wife calling from downstairs.

"Yeah, what?!" he shouted in reply, annoyed that his moment of five-knuckle-shuffle was being interrupted.

"Are you watching the news?" Emma said.

Wilfred sighed. "No, I ain't!"

"Well, maybe you should. Like, right now."

At first, Wilfred was determined to rudely ignore whatever request would come out of his wife's mouth, but the urgency in her voice made him cut off his moment of pleasure anyway. After zipping his fly, Wilfred grabbed the remote and turned on the tv.

"This is live, ladies and gentleman!" a pretty feminine journalist spoke in the camera with a glare of bewilderment dripping from her eyes."  Insuredtrust's office tower is dwindling down in size as I speak! I repeat, a freakin high-rise – excuse my language – is shrinking down right in front of us!"

Wilfred gaped at the television screen as he saw the journalist standing amidst throngs of people screaming and pointing at an office tower soaring in the background, dwindling down at a steady pace. Hordes of people were streaming out through the front gates, shoving and elbowing and tripping over each other. A large portion of them had lost a good chunk of their original size, equivalent to the building's size the moment they'd evacuated it.

"It's the reptilians, I'm telling ya! The reptilians!" a man shouted while shoving his face in the camera's lens.

Aiming it personally, aren't we? Wilfred grinned like a peasant with a toothache as he watched the property of his own insurance company shrinking down.

"You think it's her doing?" Emma said while standing in the doorway of their bedroom. She looked at the same television screen Wilfred was staring at.

Wilfred scoffed. "You know any other people with the power to shrink things?"

"Why is she doing this, Wilfred? Why is my girl acting all diabolic of a sudden?"

"You're asking the wrong questions here, darling. You should wonder as to why on earth she can do the things she is doing."

Emma sighed. "You should not have given her all that money, Fred. And that car! An s.u.v.?! For godsakes, what were you thinking?!"

"She was shrinking down the goddamn neighborhood!"  Wilfred's eyes shot from the tv to his wife. "What do you suggest I should have done? Knock her out cold? My own stepdaughter?!"

Emma sighed, rubbing her hand against her forehead. "Have you spoken to her?"

Wilfred nodded while shifting his gaze back to the television screen, where he saw the office tower becoming smaller and smaller. Meanwhile, its size was halved now. "She wanted more money."

"Yes, and?" Emma prodded.

"I refused,"

The screams of the masses on the television pitched higher when more buildings started to dwindle down in size.

Wilfred stood up. "That's it." He grabbed his jacket. "This has got to stop."

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked while eyeing him suspiciously.

"Something I should have done earlier. Going to the cops."

"Nooo!" Emma took hold of Wilfred's arm. "I don't want to see my girl getting locked up in some underground facility where shady figures are going to dissect her or something."

"Well, what do you suggest we do, huh?" Wilfred looked his wife into the eyes. "nothing? You want to be responsible for that?" Wilfred pointed at the television screen where a pandemonium was taking place. "Someone must reign her in, and I'm NOT going to send her more money! The girl is out of control."

"She's not, Fred. She's just… I don't know, confused or something. She doesn't understand her powers."

"Ha! But she does understand how she can use it in persuading others to give her money." Wilfred replied. "And you want to hear something else? Telekinesis, Emma, you know what it is? Your dear girl displayed it to me merely minutes ago."

"Telekinesis?" Emma frowned. "Like Jean Grey style?"

"Like Jean Grey style. Her control is quite sloppy still, but do you dare to imagine the catastrophe Celeste can unleash when she can use it on a large scale? She's a walking time bomb, Emma. And she must be stopped."

Wilfred saw his wife contemplating his words for a moment. Emma gave a deep sigh before reaching out her hand. "Give me your phone. I left mine in the car. I'm going to call her."

While paddling the pink canoe with her legs splayed shamelessly wide open on the bed, Celeste watched the news broadcasted through the television screen in her hotel room. She moaned exuberantly as her eyes followed various footage flashing through the screen. It was a scenery of panic and chaos, whereby one building after the other started to shrink down and people also. And it was all happening not even a few hundred meters away from her. She could hear the real-life screams coming in through her hotel window clearly - nearly drowning out the screams blasting out of the television speaker with a few seconds delay.

Celeste picked out random targets now. Nothing was safe as whole monumental structures started to shrink down – government offices, theatres, a stadium even, jam-packed with thousands of baseball supporters. It became an addiction to Celeste. Every person, car, or building she shrunk served as an arousal raiser to her now. The amount of control these powers offered was off the charts.

She was creating a calamity on a large scale with just the sheer will of her mind! And the fun part was that no one was aware that she was the one triggering it.

Not even her own friends, who were banging and shouting at her door some while ago, screaming at her to come along to evacuate the building. Celeste did not answer them and had locked the door when she came in earlier. They'd probably run off to safety, afraid that this hotel building, with them included, would also shrink down.

Then her phone started ringing.

Celeste's face churned in annoyance when she saw Wilfred's name blipping on her phone's screen.

Celeste gave a derisive chuckle. "Now you wanna come? Fuck you. I don't need you anymore."

She clicked the call away, turned her phone off, and continued to pleasure herself at the expense of the sorrow of many innocent people.

Rolling over in his bed, Wilfred latched his arm onto the warm body of his still, deeply snoozing wife. He cuddled cozy against her curvy butt, nestled his face in a bed of hair draped upon his pillow, and sank off into a slumber.

Someone was singing. A faint chant Wilfred heard. Clean vocals and it sounded familiar.

Wilfred peeled one eye open, then the other. The moment Wilfred's sight fell on a poster of some rock band plastered on the wall – which was a thorn in the eye for Emma – he realized someone was singing in their bathroom. It was a voice he had heard often. A voice he would not expect to hear so soon.

Wilfred gently climbed out of bed, making sure not to wake his wife, and tiptoed his way to the bathroom. As he crept closer and the singing voice became gradually louder, Wilfred was confident now. Celeste stood showering in the bathroom. His hand rested on the doorknob. Wilfred wanted to know if it was indeed his stepdaughter showering in there, despite the unmistakable sign of her voice. At the same time, he felt some level of restraint for barging into the bathroom while a young lady stood showering in there, and most probably naked.

"What are you doing? Is that Celes I hear in there?"

Wilfred gave a sigh of relief as he saw his wife standing in the hallway with a drowsy look on her face. There was no need for him now to cut the knot. Emma could take a look inside now instead of him.

Wilfred shrugged. "Would you think?"

Emma walked up to him. She placed her hand on the doorknob and hesitated. She dreaded facing her daughter. After their recent spat – whereby Emma learned about the powers of her daughter, which scarred the crap out of her – they haven't spoken.

Wilfred placed his hand on Emma's shoulder. "Shall… shall I go instead?" it took him great courage to say these following few words.

Emma shook her head firmly. "I have to do this."

Lucky me, he thought.

Knock-knock-knock!

"Celes?"

Emma opened the door and stepped inside, emerging herself in a thick veil of steam swirling about. Wilfred peeked over her shoulder, secretly hoping that he could admire his stepdaughter in her birthday suit or at least some part of it.

"Celes? You there?"

Emma flinched when the shower curtain shot open, revealing Celeste's wet dripping countenance.

"Oh, hey Mom! Can you pass me a towel, please?"

"Uhm… yes, of course, dear."

Emma grabbed a towel from the shelf and handed it over to her daughter's hand, jutting out between the curtains. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband with a questioning look. Wilfred merely shrugged in reply. The shower was turned off.

"When did you arrive here exactly?" Emma asked.

"Uhm… half an hour ago, more or less." Celeste's muffled voice spoke while she dried her hair.

"So you've traveled–"

"Why is that weirdo looking at me!" Celeste covered her bosom.

Wilfred quickly turned his head away from his enraged stepdaughter's countenance while shading his eyes.

Stealing glances at your stepdaughter's boobs?! What were you thinking, Fred! He took a step backward when the door slammed closed in his face.

Click-clack, locked.

"There," Celeste continued drying herself off.

Emma saw the door shut close, just like that, like it had a will of its own.

"H-how did you do that?" Emma asked with a slight shivering voice.

She was not very comfortable with being locked up in the bathroom with her daughter, who had the power to shrink stuff. And now she was showcasing some other comic-like skill it seemed.

"Simple, Mom. Like this," Celeste said. Emma saw her stepdaughter's gleeful face looking at her while the shower curtains opened up – without Celeste touching them.

"Pretty cool, right?" Celeste beamed.

Emma gulped.

"Right?" Celeste urged her mother for confirmation.

Emma nodded meekly, with her mouth hanging half-open.

Celeste produced a peal of derisive laughter. "Am I scaring you, Mom?"

Emma said nothing while gaping at her daughter like she was looking at some shady burglar with a gun in his hand. She took a step backward to the door. Celeste saw it, but she merely admired herself in the mirror.

"I've scared many people, haven't I? I've learned a lot about myself these last few weeks, Mom."

"Like what, dear," Emma said, buying some time while sneakily meandering her hand behind her back to find the doorknob.

"Control, Mom. I think I've finally learned the true essence of that word. And you know what? I like it, Mom. I like it a lot!"

Celeste chuckled when Emma's hand rattled the doorknob in a vain attempt to open it up and get the hell away from her scary daughter.

"See! This is exactly what I mean, Mom. You desperately want to leave this room, but you can't. You can only open that door when I allow it."

Celeste stood in front of her mother – towel wrapped around her waist – with her hands on her hips. "Just like weirdo over there in the hallway is only able to move when I allow it. Ain't that right, Freddyboy?!"

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Wilfred's body felt frozen. His brain kept sending signals to his limps, but nothing happened. He stood there glued to the ground like a statue by the will of some invisible force.

Celeste laughed boisterously.

"W-why are you doing this, Celes?" Emma said. She stood staring at her daughter with her back pressed against the door like a cornered prey. Her hand had given up to pry the doorknob open.

"You want my answer to sound cliché, or you want to hear the truth? Ah, fuck it. I will give you both. Because I can, Mom. To be honest, I have no idea where these powers are coming from. If someone or something gave them to me. Or how long it will last before I lose them. The fact is, I enjoy them. A lot. You have no idea how awesome it is to influence someone's life without them knowing it was me who turned their day upside."

"You could have killed people, Celes"

Celeste shrugged. "Well, maybe I did. But is it my fault people start to trample each other in a rage of panic the moment stuff starts to shrink all around them?"

"Do you hear yourself speaking!" Emma found strength in her voice again. "This is not you. You've never been like this. True, you were always a bit of a firecracker, but not evil. Why this fit of cruelty all of a sudden?"

Celeste took a step forward, standing at a stare-down distance with her mother.

"Perhaps I have always been like this, Mom. Maybe you took my demeanor as my actual nature but has it always been a façade. Have you ever thought about that?

"Say, did you know that Wilfred likes me?" Celeste added after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Emma frowned, perplexed by this seeming off-topic question. "Why, yes, of course, he does, dear. He loves you very much. I'm glad you finally see that."

Celeste shook her head. "No, what I mean is that he really likes me, Mom. Like in a physical way."

"Don't be absurd, sweety! Where are you getting that?"

"I'm not kidding here! He finds me drop-dead gorgeous!

"Shall we ask him?" Celeste asked. "Yes, let's ask him," she added before giving her mother proper time to respond.

Emma shrieked when some invisible force jerked her body to the side, giving the door space to open up – which it did, on its own. Wilfred's eyes shot to the door when it opened up. He was busy mustering all of his willpower to move his body, to break the influence of this invisible force abducting it.

"Care to join us, Fred?" Celeste said with a polite voice. "Mom, your hand, please?"

Before Emma's brain could even process her daughter's question, she saw her own left arm coming to life. It stretched out in front of her with the palm aimed upwards.

Wilfred felt a familiar sensation swirling inside his body and before he knew it, he was looking up at the skyscraper-sized bodies of his wife and stepdaughter. Celeste smiled down upon him with glee in her eyes. His tiny legs flailed helplessly when his body went airborne. Floating upwards, all the way to his wife, until he landed gently on her awaiting hand – which was like the size of a tennis court to him. Wilfred had never seen Emma like this on such a grand scale. It was breathtakingly magnificent. Sure, she was significantly older than her daughter, with visible aging lines on her face. And she was also less attractive – even when comparing her with photos made during her younger years – but she was definitely a very appealing woman. The resemblance was telling. It was only that Celeste's face was more refined, almost perfectly symmetric in relative to her mother's.

"Ahum,"

Wilfred turned around, facing The Goddess herself, who rasped her throat to get his attention. Wilfred swallowed deeply when faced with such divine beauty displaying itself on cinema-screen magnitude. His knees buckled. He wanted so desperately to bow down, to heed every whim of this teen Goddess with her ridiculously alluring eyes. She deserved nothing less than to rule the world.

It took Wilfred supreme effort to maintain a somewhat honorable demeanor as both a stepfather and a husband while confronted with his ultimate object of desire depicted in the ultimate scenery of his dreams. The scenery of Celeste as a giantess. An all reigning and untouchable force.

Seeing Celeste during daily life at a regular size has always been a harrowing ordeal for Wilfred. He was forced to conceal his attraction towards Celeste throughout everyday activities. Things like; diner, breakfast, movie night on the couch, or just a moment of simple leisure in the living room were all events for Wilfred where he was generously supplied with opportunities to relish in the juiciness of Celeste's body and face. Providing, of course, that he would cast only furtive, sidelong glances when he was absolutely confident no one was seeing it.

Wilfred had elevated this skill to art throughout the months, or so he proudly believed. He was positively sure that neither Celeste nor his wife was aware of the secret weakness he had for the former's beauty. Now however, while standing forlorn upon his wife's stretched-out hand – at merely the size of a handheld plaything one could buy at Toys' R' Us – he was no longer so confident.

Celeste knew something. And she was planning something. Wilfred could see it in the way her alluring eyes immersed his being under a rigorous glance. It was a predatory look. A look that a prey would receive right after he was captured while his captor contemplated her next move.

'I know your secret and will make you spill it out to me," her eyes seemed to say.

A short yelp – a bitchy yelp that would undoubtedly trigger a peel of boisterous laughter had it been shrieked in a bar full of rowdy elbow benders – escaped Wilfred's lips when his body went airborne, soaring closer towards Celeste's face by the influence of some invisible force.

"W-what are you going to do to him?" Emma asked, with a whiff of worry in her voice.

Celeste shrugged while observing tiny flying Wilfred. "I haven't decided yet. Guess it's all in his own hands."

Wilfred's body flailed and soared through the air like a stuntman dangling from a safety rope when Celeste's mental powers pulled it closer to her.

Wilfred looked beneath him with awe, gawking at his wife's marvelously huge torso and legs extending to a stunning depth. His family members were like skyscrapers now from his perspective. Massive and immovable, like mountains even. It made Wilfred feel weak and insignificant.

Floating at approximately around 150 meters above the ground was not a very pleasant experience. A most frightening experience even. Especially since the only force keeping his body in the air was the mental power of his fickle stepdaughter. What if her concentration faltered? Or if she felt diabolic for a sudden?

Luckily for him, no such thing happened. Celeste appeared quite deft with using this skill. Quite an accomplishment, given the short time she had it.

Celeste brought her hand up and presented it as a landing strip for incoming 'plane Wilfred.'

He gave a sigh of relief when his feet finally found solid ground in the form of Celeste's awaiting palm. The moment he landed, the skin dimpled slightly when his fractional weight leaned upon it.

Wilfred gulped while looking up at Celeste's billboard face filling nearly his whole purview. He has never been so close to the girl before. He was able now to discern the more delicate features of her face. Things he had never noticed before and could only be seen when scrutinizing it thoroughly and from a very close angle. Like a very faint birthmark on the left side of her chin. And the slightly asymmetrical lines between her left and right nostrils. Wilfred could also see that Celeste's right eyelid drooped slenderly lower than its counterpart despite the negligible difference.

Guess that his stepdaughter wasn't so perfect looking after all. However, these imperfections were still trivial. They could only be seen during a very close inspection. Most people would not even notice it during a daily conversation with her. They would only see the depiction of perfectness this blond girl sought to present to the outer world. And if Wilfred was honest to himself, he finds that these imperfections gave the girl only more appeal.

The girl was still extraordinarily comely, with lips that stood in a luscious full pout and eyes that rattled his heart like a severely compromised window during an autumn storm. The deeper Wilfred sank into her beauty, the more logical it seemed to him that he should be worshipping her. It just made sense.

"Well, what do you think?"

Celeste's booming voice brought Wilfred back to the now. He shook his head free from the hypnotic clutches of Celeste's beauty and became suddenly aware he was inhaling the awfully sweet and fresh fragrance of a shower foam his stepdaughter's just used on her body. A smell he loathed from the core of his heart.

"Think? About what?" Wilfred scratched his head while fiddling his nose with the hopes that this awfully sweet smell would go away.

"You know…" Celeste flashed her eyes alluringly at him.

"Listen, Fred, you don't have to–"

"Be silent, woman!" Celeste's voice whipped as she looked at her mother with seething eyes.

Emma gaped back, shocked at her daughter's fierceness. "Woman?..." she brought out absently before withdrawing back into her position as observer.

As Celeste kept her eyes pierced on the little prey standing upon her cupped hand, vague images flashed in her head. Images unfamiliar to her and definitely not boiling up from her unconsciousness either.

They intensified and became more vivid when concentrating harder on her stepdad. Celeste smiled while zeroing her gaze deeper on Wilfred.

Wilfred felt a deep urge to bend his knees and bow down before his stepdaughter. A chunk of his brain responsible for common sense prevented this, however. To subjugate himself to the teen, his Goddess. I mean, which sane man would freely choose to submit himself to the whims of his own teenage stepdaughter, right?

But it was under fire now. Wilfred could feel it. He also knew where this fire came from. Celeste's lips – thick, like two anaconda's lying on top of each other – widened, slithered open to reveal a row of brilliantly looking white teeth, each as big as a boulder to him.

It felt good, but his ego wanted to fight it. The influence, the strong influence he felt that tried to force him to his knees.

He knew that the influence could force him to the ground. Celeste was holding back.

Wilfred grunted as one knee hit Celeste's hand.

So good…. Wilfred thought.

He tried to stand up. He couldn't. But the influence would not push him further either. Despite that it could. He knew it. And Celeste knew that he knew it.

Give in… Must not give in…

Wilfred gave one more push. Just a desperate final attempt to stand up. To fight the influence. And suddenly he could... The influence was gone.

Wilfred could stand up, but he didn't. And Celeste knew it.

His other leg buckled before his left knee joined his right.

Just one more step… might as well go all the way. He concluded.

Wilfred's head sank low – in a praying position – touching the warm skin of Celeste's cupped hand. This was heaven to him now. It truly was.

Celeste giggled triumphantly.

"You're forcing him!" Emma said.

Celeste merely rolled her eyes. "Am I, Wilfred? Tell her…"

But Wilfred could not see or hear a thing. He resided in his own world now. A realm where his inner desires fused with patches of revelatory peeks of the future. Or so he believed. He saw a world. His world. Ruled by a youthful girl with unspeakable powers who showered down her wrath upon beings who were utterly powerless against her might. A mere girl she was. A Goddess she became, to rule over all of us.

No city was safe. No army was able to oppose her. Nothing could withstand the girl's strength and beauty. Subjugation was the only choice he saw and the only choice Wilfred wanted.

Then he was rudely yanked away, like a leashed dog by a cruel master. He floated up, his body inflated and before he knew it, he was standing next to his beloved wife again at his original size. They both looked at each other, puzzled, before gaping at Celeste.

Wilfred saw his stepdaughter giving him a curt smile before leaving the bathroom. His eyes could not help but admire her tight ass within a wrapped towel, wiggling off. He knew that the world would see a lot more of the girl in the upcoming weeks when she would further develop and eventually unleash her powers upon humanity.

"W-what the hell is happening, Fred?" Emma asked.

"Fate is what happening, Emma. Fate…"

With a frayed sleeve that wore the scent of diesel, or wet earth, or moisty concrete in a basement – or perhaps a mix of all three of them – Wilfred wept the sweat of his forehead, painting another smudge of coal. He looked over his shoulder and blubbered when he saw a single file of people being escorted by guards with whips to the coal mine further ahead down the road.

He was needed there. He would be missed. Then Wilfred spun his head and squinted in front of him. An inviting green hill sloped gently beneath an orange hue of the setting sun. It looked so brilliantly verdant, so fresh. It called for him. His bare, blistered feet wanted to bask in its refreshing touch so badly.

Wilfred took one step in its direction. Then another. A guard noticed him.

"Hey, you! Get back in line!"

Wilfred took another step and leaped his pace up to a stride that went over into a jog.

"Hey!" The same guard shouted out more urgent now. A high-pitched whistle cut through the air. "Runaway!"

Wilfred heaved and puffed as his legs galloped to their limits. Dozens of guards with whips, tasers, and bats in their hands, eager to strike him to submission, ran after him.

Wilfred climbed the hill while his lungs burned like the core of a burn pit, smoldering holes outwardly through the thin layered tissue of his lungs. He kept mentally whipping himself to the extreme in his aim to stay ahead of his chasers and crest the hill. It was something that just needed to be done, to perch the hill. He would die for it. Because beyond it, a reward was waiting for him.

Wilfred keeled over at the end of his tether, catching his breath while leaning on his knees. He made it to the top. He did not care anymore about the guards behind him, for the most majestic view lay sprawled out right in front of him. A monumentally huge Celeste sat all slumped on a likewise colossal couch. Her feet leaned on each other and rested leisurely at the edge of a city that spreads out vastly as far as Wilfred's eyes could see. It was Wilfred's hometown, and Celeste's feet loomed monstrously high above it.

Celeste wiggled her big toe playfully, a toe that looked like it was able to decimate acres upon acres of land with just a mere touch. Even the wrinkles in Celeste's sole – that appeared as she wiggled her foot – showed plenty of space for whole skyscrapers to rest in its gaps. A faint humming sound flourished in the distance above the city, becoming gradually more audible. Millions of people were chanting words of divinity in honor of the teenage Goddess lying slumped like a bag of flour in the background, completely ignoring them as she was busy on her phone.

They are worshipping her, Wilfred realized. The whole city was worshipping his stepdaughter. No longer looked the bratty Celeste like the umpteenth defiant teen girl, but like a Deity now.

An all-powerful and omniscient Goddess that struck fear and obedience in the heart of billions. The guards chasing Wilfred and finally caught up to him realized this also. The moment their eyes witnessed the mighty spectacle filling their purview called Goddess Celeste, they immediately dropped their weapons and their initial mission to seize Wilfred. They all sank down on their knees to revere the juvenile that ruled over them with her fists of justice.

Celeste's eyes zeroed in from her phone into Wilfred's direction, the way someone looked when someone else was calling you. The teen Goddess's body started moving as she crawled from the couch. Her countenance flew in rapidly. Wilfred's head had to tilt painfully before he could finally look Celeste in the eyes – which appeared like they were solely zeroed in on him.

So beautiful…

His stepdaughter's immaculate face and smooth, bare shoulders loomed ominously high above them all, dwarfing the vast city like a Ping-Pong ball compared to a basketball. Her ravishing almond-shaped eyes narrowed to threateningly small slits for a moment before peeling open, and her mouth called out:

"Have a nice day!"

Wilfred cried with pain when his forehead bounced hard against a glowing reading lamp. The puzzled faces of both Emma and Celeste greeted him when Wilfred rubbed the painful spot on his forehead with the back of his hand. He gave a deep sigh, leaned back on the couch, and waved goodbye to Celeste, who stood near the hallway, ready to leave. She gave him a curt mysterious smile before waving at her mother and leaving the house, closing the front door.

"You were drifted off good there, weren't you?" Emma asked him.

Wilfred looked over at his wife sitting on the other couch next to him. Her expression wasn't loving anymore, not since that last event in the bathroom. Her demeanor towards him was more reserved since then, distant even.

"Yea, I guess I was," Wilfred sighed while looking absentmindedly at the ceiling.

"What were you dreaming about?"

"Huh?" Wilfred turned his head as the question surprised him.

"I saw your legs trembling frantically like you were running in your dream or something. I could also hear incoherent fragments of sentences spilling from your lips."

That brought Wilfred's mind on high alert. Because in his dream, he was worshipping his stepdaughter. He could recall clearly that he was chanting along with millions of others' words of praise for Celeste. He desperately hoped that his subconsciousness did not trigger his mouth to speak certain words during his sleep that would allow Emma to deduce certain things.

"Is that so?" Wilfred sniggered awkwardly. "great way of burning calories, right?"

Emma smiled weakly. Another change in her behavior since that day. Emma mostly used to laugh when Wilfred joked about something, however lame it sounded. Or she simply made it clear to him – using blunt words – that he was anything but funny. Wilfred rather had that than that cold and curt smile she was giving him now.

"What was I saying? I mean during my sleep?" Wilfred asked hesitantly while at the same time fearing the answer.

Emma shrugged. "Just gibberish. Nothing that made sense, at least."

Wilfred gave an inner sigh of relief.

"You also had a massive lump in your pants, by the way," Emma added.

That made Wildred leap up. "Damn morning wood," he muttered.

"It's 1 o'clock in the afternoon," Emma said dryly.

"It can also occur during other times of the day!" Wilfred said, more enthusiastic than he intended to.

"I know," Emma looked back at him with a cryptic glance.

"Were you dreaming about Celeste, Fred? About my daughter?" Emma added.

There it was. The question that was on Emma's mind this whole time. He knew it.

"It's related to your testosterone level and not arousal, Emma!"

"I wasn't asking about the cause of morning wood. I was asking about –"

"I know what you've asked!" Wilfred fumed.

Emma gave him a look that asked: 'Okay, spill it out then."

After an agonizingly long silence, Wilfred answered without looking Emma in the eyes, "Yes, I was dreaming about Celeste, Emma. About your daughter."

The silence after that revelation was even more painful than the silence he needed to speak out the revelation.

Emma stood up. "I want a divorce." And she vanished out of the room.

Wilfred was about to say something. Anything to keep his wife in the room, but held back instead. A news bulletin broadcasted on the television screen caught his attention. He saw images of the town hall of a nearby city being shrunk down to the size of a dollhouse.

Celeste…

The girl became more brazen by the day. The building was filled to the rafters when all present employees, citizens, and even the mayor – started to dwindle rapidly. Wilfred saw images of throngs of normal-sized bystanders creeping closer for a good peek at the miniature town hall and its miniature people. Authorities streamed in swiftly to push them back to a more suitable distance and put up a perimeter.

Wilfred could imagine Celeste's glee upon seeing this exact footage. The girl had probably shrunk them down while sitting leisurely on the bus while updating her social accounts on her phone.

That's how frightful her capability was. She could use it while simultaneously doing something else. And on top of that, the concerned target did not even have to be in sight. Wilfred did not precisely know how it worked, but he guessed that all Celeste had to do was think about some object or a person to make it or him/her shrink. The only limit was the range of her influence. Wilfred was confident that the girl could not shrink something down on the other side of the planet just by thinking about it.

Oh, the girl had tried, though. Wilfred was sure of it. What a frustration it must have been for her. But the scope of her capabilities is still growing. With each passing day, Celeste can land the clutches of her mind on objects and people further and further away and with a greater magnitude.

Even now, Celeste was capable of attacking a neighboring city that lay at least 50 miles further along. Besides Wilfred, Emma, and, of course, Celeste herself, no one could comprehend the cause of this shrinkage that started to seriously disrupt society. People were afraid and demanded answers that no one could give them. Who or what was shrinking them? What is their purpose? Are my family and I next? All burning questions that grew more excruciating after every new attack.

Wilfred had doubled back a few times when he was about to tell his side of the story to the police. Who would believe him anyway?...

Where would the potency of Celeste's powers end? And what impact would it have on global society?

Wilfred could only theorize.

Sitting with her legs curled on her bed, Celeste's thumb took another swipe on her phone screen. Her eyes were scanning endless lines of comments made by various people on social media, some of them her friends. Each comment appeared funnier than the other, at least to Celeste. It made her chuckle.

It all revolved around the same subject. The inexplicable shrinkage of people and infrastructure throughout the region. People were frightened.

Hundreds of shrunken citizens were being studied in a specially established clinic by renowned doctors and scientists from around the globe. These so-called knowledgeable eggheads were all eager to conduct tests on many unfortunate guinea pigs who were desperate to be restored to their original size.

They were even more eager to be the first to find a solution for this inauspicious fate that kept striking an increasing number of people.

So the competition between these academics was harsh. It no longer revolved around helping the victims and their families but becoming the one enforcing a scientific breakthrough – and subsequently achieving unparalleled fame, a Nobel prize, and a standing ovation.

But none of them understood that it all lay in the hands of one teenage girl named Celeste, who gradually became more powerful with each passing day. She was the one who shrunk all these people, and she was the one who could grow them back – whenever the mood takes her, that is.

However, that wasn't the case at this moment. Celeste found this disarray and fear much too fun to observe. She had free reign in developing her powers. No one could trace it back to her. At least, not at this stage. Celeste could slap herself in the face for being careless in using her powers so freely during her vacation on the other side of the continent.

That one made it definitely easier to trace things back to her.

Celeste also feared that she was in the crosshairs of the local police concerning the missing of Sonny, the neighbor boy. To her surprise, no officer had come asking her questions about the event. Wilfred knew it, though. As well as he and her mother knew about her powers.

Celeste realized that it would only be a matter of time before she was on full lock by the authorities. Nonetheless, had Celeste the confidence that she would be a powerhouse by then and that it would be easy for her to deal with such a nuisance. Celeste had no doubt that she would be unstoppable one day. She had this inner knowing that told her that she would be able to shrink whole cities in the future – or countries even. Such power would allow her to subjugate entire nations with the sheer power of her mind.

But not right now. For now, Celeste had to make do with staying incognito and enjoying the disorder that spreads throughout society like an oil leak in the sea.

Celeste took a gander at a conversation that took place in a chatroom she frequented.

(12:04) ScratchyBallsack says: I swear, I will blow my brain out if I get shrunk. Ain't no nerd is going to run tests on me!

(12:04) Beef_Sistersays: With what gun?

(12:05) OprahWindfury says: @Beef_Sister Don't give attention to that melancholic asshat. He will probably hang himself with his mother's bra this afternoon and then whine tomorrow that the damn thing snapped.

(12:06) ScratchyBallsack says: @OprahWindfury shut it, slut! Or I'm coming over to penetrate that maidenhead of yours!

(12:06) OprahWindfury says: I'm a proud mother of a twin, dickhead.

(12:07) ScratchyBallsack says: Then what the hell you doing in a teen's chatroom?

(12:07) OprahWindfury says: That's because I AM a teen!

(12:08) Oiled_Spartan says: All jokes aside, peeps. My aunt's husband is still held at that facility crested on the hill. And she's not even allowed to see him! What are they doing there? I'm serious, man. It scares the shit out of me!

(12:09) Rihanna's_Cunt says: Make arrangements with people you trust. That's the only advice I can give. Make sure that others will take care of you, or you of them, if one of you shrinks down someday. That way, you won't end up in some shady laboratory.

(12:09) PrettyEyes says: @Rihanna's_Cunt I already have. I'm taking care of three shrunken relatives right now. One of them is in my purse as I write.

(12:10) Bearded_Leonidas says: Idiot! Big brother will trace your IP. They are probably knocking at your door right now!

(12:10) PrettyEyes says: Don't get your hopes up, @Bearded_Leonidas I'm at an internet cafe.

(12:11)SinisterChill says: Is anyone else seeing this?! Campfield Stadium is shrinking as we speak!

Satisfied, Celeste clicked her phone on standby and placed it on the bed next to her lap. SinisterChill was one of the many pseudonyms she used online. While typing this last sentence, Celeste's mind reached out to Campfield Stadium, more than 80 miles away from her – where an important game was being played – and compelled it to shrink.

Celeste loved to be the first with breaking news. Especially when she was the one causing it.

In a few minutes, she would check out the chatroom again and laugh about all the panicked messages that would inevitably follow this event.

But first, she would take a gander at something else. Leaping off her bed, Celeste sauntered over to her desk, parked her tight ass on the swivel chair and leaned her chin on her stacked forearms.

She observed a glass-framed box of one square foot stationed on her desk. The vague contours her eyes could discern within the gloomy box flashed to a clear picture when her finger switched a light on, showing a picturesque scene of a miniature farm village with a handful of houses slightly bigger than Duplo bricks.

A stable with microsized whinnying horses stood next to a hay storage barn with a red roof. Adjacent to another stable stretched out a 'vast' field of grass where a dozen minuscule cows were grazing. There were also sheep, goats, and chickens milling about, and several agricultural lands surrounding the farm and a tree yard.

A church was placed at the center of it all, containing rich colored stained glass at its sides and a bell tower jutting above it.

Shrunken people – roughly the size of peas – came creeping out of their homes, reacting to the artificial sun their captor created for them. Whole families huddled together, gaping at the one responsible for their new entrapped existence. There were couples with children, elders, and individuals that belonged to no one in particular. Celeste scrutinized them all thoughtfully.

Celeste knew none of these people. She chose them randomly and merely snatched them away from their former life under the effect of a whim – just like she did with the stadium a couple of minutes ago.

"Well, go on, do your thing," Celeste urged as her beautiful face loomed over her shrunken, captured captives.

She wanted to see them working on the field, herding the animals, mending the barn, and all others things you do at a farm.

Celeste enjoyed seeing them do what they're supposed to do – according to her, that is – without paying attention to her presence.

Well, Celeste could not blame them. She was, after all, a very prominent presence. Perhaps they needed a little nudge. Celeste's mind reached out, clasped some of the shrinkees, and compelled their bodies into motion. A woman and her children shrieked when suddenly their husband's body went airborne and floated in the direction of a crop field, compelled by Celeste's powers. The same thing happened to others, whose bodies floated towards the hen house, the horse stable, the tree yard, the meadow with the grazing cows, and some of them were placed in front of the church.

"Get to work," Celeste said. A satisfied smile crept on her face – making her even prettier than she already was – when she saw them give ear to her command. Tools were being gathered, eggs were being picked up, and ladders were being placed against the barn and the apple trees.

Celeste leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and arms and enjoyed the sight for a few minutes before the thought of the stadium seeped into her mind.

She stood up from the chair – unintentionally scaring the people in her micro-farm with her sudden movement – turned around to walk to her bed again to grab her phone. The first thing she did was check out some news sites where she saw footage taken by witnesses of Campfield stadium as it dwindled in size rapidly. The stadium stands were filled to the rafters with supporting fans who were now panicking like stampeding buffalos. Everyone wanted to exit the shrinking stadium. Because everyone who was still in was shrinking too.

It amused Celeste to see it all, hear people screaming, and hear reporters talking about it with stirred-up voices while a pandemonium was breaking loose in the background. Celeste felt in control, and she did not fear the devices placed throughout the city by the government either.

These highly advanced machines aimed to measure a spike of any kind of radiation generated during a shrink attack. The hope was that it would allow them to find its source. Celeste was pretty sure that her mind radiated some kind of emission of energy while using her powers, but luckily not something that could be measured by these machines. She was able to operate entirely under the radar. In conclusion, Celeste checked out the chatroom, chuckled about all the freaked-out comments, and found it high time for a nice, comfy nap after all this hard work.

Wilfred saw his hand reaching out to the doorknob of the shoe cabinet. It was like it had a will on its own. His hand was about to cross a moral line from which Wilfred knew there was no going back. It craved for something that stood stationed there in the closet's darkness, gathering dust. His hand wanted to touch it, to feel its smooth surface glide beneath the digits of his fingers as they stroked it gently.

A surge of coldness of the metallic doorknob jolted through Wilfred's hand before he turned his wrist. The cabinet opened.

The orange hue of the morning sun beamed through a small, striped window next to the front door, illuminating a small portion of the vast collection of shoes, boots, and high heels arranged disorganized in the cramped space of the shoe cabinet. Wilfred had to crouch down and creep closer to find what his hand was looking for.

There they stood, Celeste's splendidly looking black, Valentino Garavani's.

Even in the shade, were they the most eye-catching pair in the cabinet. A tide of blood pumped its way into his member – engorging it – when his hand grabbed one of the boots.

I can still go back. Wilfred thought as his nose hovered above the opening of the boot's shaft. He took a long sniff to smell the aroma of Celeste's foot sweat.

"Fuck it. To hell with decency," Wilfred said.

He took the other boot too, closed up the closet, and dashed upstairs to find his way to the guestroom – where he'd spent the night since his breakup with Emma. He placed the boots on a table, slumped down on his bed, and admired them.

Wilfred shook his head. "This is not the right angle." He concluded and grabbed them and placed them on the floor. His stomach touched the floor when he lay right in front of them in a prone position. Wilfred put his ear on the floor, which allowed him to have a worm's view of his surroundings. That's the only way Wilfred wanted to observe Celeste's boots – as two elevated black pillars displaying their majestic presence.

His imagination came loose as it projected vivid images of several microscopic cities blanketed by shadows created by the boot's toebox. Millions of imaginary dust mites were uttering words of reverence in honor of the teen Goddess towering above them like a celestial body conjured from the skies to shower her divine judgment upon them all. They all failed to meet her well-deserved needs.

So punishment is in place. Wilfred moaned and started rubbing his engorged member when Celeste's boot progressively sank lower, hovering it above one of the nano-cities.

Floor after floor of the highest skyscrapers in the city blasted apart like popping beer bottles shot by a jaded hillbilly armed with a .357 magnum in some forlorn mountain range when the bottom of Celeste's planetary boot descended down upon them.

Wilfred's hand fumbled his pants open and started to give his manhood a pretty hefty five-knuckle-shuffle. He heard Celeste laughing. And it was not an imaginary laughter his mind created. It was her actual laughter and he heard it quite clearly in his head like her voice had conjured its way to the inside of his skull.

"Are you having a good time there, Freddy?"

Wilfred's eyes peeled open. That voice! He was certain now. Celeste was speaking inside his head. But how? He felt an unexplainable urge to cease his moment of me-time and walk towards the hallway. Wilfred made his way towards the door – with a stiff pecker forming a shameless tent beneath his pants – and opened it. There he saw her, the teen Goddess Wilfred so desperately longed to serve. As he saw her sitting there regally on a chair in the hallway wearing nothing but a tight-fitting, velvety, blue dress accentuating the firm thighs of her crossed legs, Wilfred's knees buckled. He wanted to bow down to her, kiss her, and lick the pieces of floor her denuded feet had touched while walking her way into the house.

But the Goddess demanded something else from him. The same unexplainable urge that compelled Wilfred to walk to the hallway was coercing him now to grab the magnificent pair of Valentino Garavani's.

Wilfred grabbed them, walked up to Celeste – who kept smiling at him – and sank down in front of her. The sight of her bare foot dangling in the air was almost too much to bear for poor Wilfred. He wanted to be dwindled down to the size of a microbe and go astray on the vastness of her toenail. Perhaps if he pleased the Goddess properly, she would fulfill his wish. And to satisfy her at this moment meant to put on the boots on Celeste's feet Wilfred so brazenly took to use for his own carnal pleasure. With a curt nod, Celeste gave Wilfred permission to touch her feet. He felt like a Catholic monk in the medieval period who was allowed to kiss the pope's hand – a person who stood closest to God.

However, Wilfred was beginning to be convinced that Celeste was God. Especially when he saw the body of his young and beautiful stepdaughter levitate a few inches above the chair in a seemingly magical way. Celeste smiled down upon Wilfred when a surge of consternation churned his face into a look of astonishment.

"My powers made a quantum leap last night. It won't be long before I can do anything," Celeste said. And she hovered back on the chair again.

Wilfred's breathing gasped deeper as the part of his brain responsible for regulating his arousal was cranked up to a state of overdrive after witnessing Celeste's display of power.

Wilfred could only think of one thing more sexually exciting than his pretty stepdaughter, and that was his pretty stepdaughter possessing powers beyond measure. "You'll be unstoppable," Wilfred brought out more like a moan than a correctly articulated sentence.

Celeste shrugged. "Perhaps I already am. I don't know, actually."

"I aid you in anything, my Goddess," Wilfred placed his forehead on the floor in front of his stepdaughter's feet.

Celeste tousled his hair with her hand like she was petting a dog.

"You worship me since the first moment we met. I was only a little sprout then, but I understand that now," she said.

Wilfred dared to raise his head to look into Celeste's green eyes. "But what about Emma? Your mother? She will never approve this."

He received a sardonic smile from his comely stepdaughter that was worth a thousand painful deaths before she started speaking. "Look behind you and judge for yourself,"

Wilfred frowned and looked over his shoulder. "Emma?"

He saw her sitting on the floor in a praying stance. But unlike him, Emma was not doing it voluntarily. Her body seemed strained and Wilfred heard her sobbing. Emma was being compelled by Celeste's powers to worship her and she was trying to resist it – to the delight of Celeste.

"Come, I want to show you something," Celeste said to Wilfred. The latter noticed that his body was shrinking and before he knew it, Celeste's warm fingers were wrapped all around his tiny body to lift him up. Celeste placed his handheld size on the chair between her splayed thighs.

"Close your eyes," Celeste commanded. Wilfred complied.

"I see, I think I see buildings," Wilfred said, reacting to the images that were poured into his head by his stepdaughter's powers. "a city, a stadium, a vast transportation network. And people, a lot of them! And, oh wait, I think I recognize those high rises! It's the Petronas twin towers! I don't know the name of this city, but it's definitely in Malaysia."

Celeste applauded. "You're well informed, Freddyboy! I can give you that! It's Kuala Lumpur, and yes, that's a city in Malaysia."

"The capital city," Wilfred added, opening his eyes.

"And that's something I did not know. Up until now, thanks to you." Celeste gave him a complimentary nod.

Wilfred's head gave an appreciative bow. "Why are you showing me this?" Wilfred asked. "Are these conjured images?"

"Yes, I've put these images in your head. But do not mistake them for crafted images, even though a thing like that would be easy to pull off for someone like me. You see Kuala Lumpur in real-time from an aerial view."

"You're going to attack it," Wilfred uttered more like a fact than a question.

Celeste's luscious lips formed a sinister smile before she closed her eyes. Wilfred did the same, but not before taking a shamelessly long gander at his stepdaughter's juicy thighs stretched out in front of his pitiful existence like the Chinese wall.

The tentacles of Celeste's influence were already employed when Wilfred closed his eyes. Wilfred's gasped as he saw several stately buildings breaking loose from their foundation, hovering in the air. A stampede of thousands of citizens whipped into panic, elbowing each other, exiting cars and houses with the main aim of getting the hell away from the soaring skyscrapers that seemed to be dragged skywards by the powers of some extraterrestrial mothership above the clouds.

Then the influence was broken and all skyscrapers plunged down, obliterating many of their smaller counterparts as they crashed on city blocks below.

Wilfred heard Celeste moaning.

But the girl was not done yet. The ground ripped open, creating a deep fissure, cracking further like a zipper while creating a perfectly formed circle around Kuala Lumpur's perimeter. On its way, it tore apart bridges, roads and highways, fully packed with fleeing Malaysians in cars and busses. The whole city broke free, ascending higher and higher.

"You're going to drop it?" Wilfred asked.

Celeste shook her head. "That would be a waste now, wouldn't it? No, I'm going to shrink it. The whole city."

And that's precisely what happened. Wilfred could barely discern the pitiful disk that was Kuala Lumpur hovering above a majestically vast crater.

"And my mother will collect it," Celeste opened her eyes.

"Can't you just, I don't know, teleport it or something?" Wilfred asked.

Celeste shook her head. "Not yet, unfortunately. But do not worry, I will be able to, eventually." She smiled.

All moral inhibitions were gone now, and it felt fantastic to Wilfred!

Like he was finally allowed to dive into a pool of sexual bliss, he always saw glittering beyond the barrier that pushed him back all these years.

Wilfred's only purpose in life now was to satisfy the demanding whims of his stepdaughter – the most potent Goddess this world has ever known.

Celeste could do virtually everything now. The entire world was nothing more than a plaything to her. Every human lived only to serve the teen Goddess – whether they realized it or not.

The authorities were still groping in the dark about all these inexplicable events occurring throughout the planet. Entire cities simply vanished without a trace – all in a moment shorter than one second. No one knew where they went or if they even existed still.

Wilfred knew it, though. All these cities and inhabitants were brazenly microsized and placed in the corner of Celeste's room.

Celeste's Valentino Garavani's stood stationed next to them. They all now lived beneath the boot of Wilfred's stepdaughter. And it was promised to Wilfred that he would become the society's mayor.

But now, there were other urgent matters for Wilfred to take care of–like exploring his stepdaughter's hot body.

Wilfred's guess was that he had been roaming for an hour now. He had a vague notion of where he was, but there's always the possibility that his inner compass had it all wrong. Before shrinking him even tinier, Celeste had placed him just above her left knee. Then she leaned back to take a nap on her bed.

"Knock yourself out!" Celeste had said.

Wilfred could not believe his luck! Not only was he promised the prospect of becoming mayor in one of Celeste's shrunken boot-cities, but he also had permission to explore her magnificent body.

He was given unrestricted leeway to do whatever he liked. How hard was it to choose between so many beautiful options? The first thought that sprouted up in his mind was to just simply crest the holiness of one of Celeste's brown nipples jutting high on the horizon beyond the girl's breathing stomach.

It would undoubtedly be an arduous ascent, no doubt about it!

Based on the comparison between his body and the skin cells he was walking on, he estimated that he was no larger than 1 mm in length, if not smaller.

Wilfred knew that he was walking upon Celeste's thigh, but he was only quite sure about that because that was where Celeste had left him before she shrunk him further. It might as well be some dried and cracked desert land he was walking upon. Because that's what Celeste's skin looked like when viewing it from such an extremely close distance – apart from the countless wispy, white hairs protruding all around him.

Even just a tiny fraction of one of Celeste's body parts was now like a vast landscape to Wilfred – an entirely new and foreign-looking terrain that begged to be explored.

Wilfred's knees began to buckle. It was time to worship again, honor his Goddess. It had to have been at least 8 minutes ago that he last did so. Wilfred sank down on his knees and uttered a prayer he made up himself. Most of the lines he spoke were derived from quotes from the bible he learned as a kid. Only, instead of Jesus, his words glorified his stepdaughter – the one true Goddess in his eyes.

Celeste was already a supreme power, an unstoppable force. The limit of her potency was far from reach. The chance of halting her is long past.

It's a terrifying thought, but if Celeste ever declares herself to be the supreme ruler of the planet, the global authorities will have no choice but to tremble at her feet and do her every bidding.

Wilfred had no doubts that Celeste would become omnipotent one day. And on that day, the entire universe will be reshaped to her whims.

While pondering this, Wilfred realized all the more that he was offered a great privilege by life to be allowed to be Celeste's stepfather for a while. Now that he looked back upon it, he had always known that Celeste was much more than a mere little girl the moment they met. She was a Goddess in the making, and Wilfred had witnessed her ascension up close.

He felt grateful and wanted to show it to her by worshiping every inch of her body. His junk was also bursting with sexual desire. So, for the eleventh time in roughly 45 minutes, Wilfred rootled about with his fingers, yanked his throbbing cock out of his pants, and started jackhammering away his racked shaft.

Wilfred did not know if some world record existed for most times masturbated in a day, but he did know that the score he would set today would definitely break his own.

It was already a challenging task for Wilfred to stay mentally sane while staying in the presence of his stepdaughter while normal-sized. Now, however, as he lived as tiny as a parasite on Celeste, there was just no escaping her body's intoxicating smell and touch.

Wilfred knew for sure now that he wanted to live on her body until the end of his days. He could not imagine anything more blissful than to live as a speck on planet Celeste. That, in his opinion, would be pure heaven.

But the Goddess had other plans for him, though. He was to become mayor of one of her shrunken societies. And Celeste's will was law.

The only thing he could do was cherish the fraction of bliss he was offered right now.

Trudging further over the landscape of Celeste's thigh, he looked over his shoulder and saw his stepdaughter's feet soaring high in the distance. That was a destination he truly wanted to visit also. He was really eager to climb upon one of Celeste's big toes. However, he felt a more desperate urge right now to trek in the direction of the girl's boobs, and so he did.

As Wilfred crested further over the unending slope of Celeste's thigh, the girl's vulva finally came into view. It was still a long way to go. Secretly Wilfred wanted to make a short layover there before hiking further over Celeste's rising boobs. But his stepdaughter had said he may choose between a visit to her tits, her vagina, or her feet – but not all.

However, simply ignoring the pungent aroma of Celeste's glistening privy part proved to be a feature too hard for poor Wilfred.

It lured him in. He wanted to do nothing more than to get lost in the woods of his stepdaughter's pubic hair. The moment he entered it, Wilfred felt another urge to give his throbbing member a good wank.

Wilfred's head whipped backward when a girlish giggle reverberated loudly above him. At his size, he could clearly feel the voice tremors rippling all the way to beneath his feet.

"Are we enjoying ourselves?" Unlike the thunderous giggle his stepdaughter produced with her lungs, vocal cords, and lips, these words were spoken telepathically into Wilfred's head. He could not determine if it was simply convenient for Celeste to use this kind of communication method in this situation or if his stepdaughter was utterly showing off her powers. It was probably both.

Wilfred absentmindedly nodded while continuing to pleasure his cock. He felt some heavy tremors beneath his feet. Celeste's planet-sized body was moving. A massive object came tumbling down from the sky. It was Celeste's hand with an outstretched middle finger. She went to pleasure herself while Wilfred teemed about in the bushes of her pubic hair. Celeste started moaning, deeper and longer. Wilfred joined her. They both climbed towards a deliciously convulsing climax.

A long, fierce groan rumbled above Wilfred's head as Celeste reached her sexual peak, sounding like it cracked the planet open.

And in the blink of an eye, it was over.

Deeply puzzled, Wilfred looked about while seeing a crowded street of people gaping at him as he stood there with his underwear hanging around his ankles and his still engorged member firmly clutched in his hand. Some mothers shielded their kid's eyes with their hands. All these people were brown-tinted. He was amidst a buzzing city – a grand city with soaring structures everywhere.

Wilfred's eyes fell on a few buildings he recognized.

Kuala Lumpur

"You're gonna make me mayor of the Malaysian people?" Wilfred asked his stepdaughter.

"Yeah, why not?" Celeste's voice spoke in his head.

Wilfred shook his head with a faint chuckle while pulling his pants back up. "You think these people will take me seriously now they've seen me with a hoisted cock in my hand in the middle of the street?"

"Well, where there's a will, there's a way, they say, right?"

"I do not even speak Malaysian! Or however you say that,"

"Now you do," Celeste said.

Wilfred looked puzzled at first, then the required knowledge sank in. "I… do? Yes! I do! I know Malay!" Happy like a puppy, Wilfred walked around on the street and started speaking fluently Malay to random strangers.

Celeste's boot soared sky high on the horizon, looming threatening over the city.

When Celeste appointed Wilfred mayor, he immediately understood her intention. She wanted him to convince these people to venerate her as a goddess, adoring her boot as a symbol of her strength and compassion.

"What difference is there?" Celeste mumbled as she gaped at her outstretched hand in front of her face while sitting in her bedroom chair.

These last few days, Celeste contemplated heavily about life and, in particular, about religious issues.

Where do we come from?

Who created us?

Who watches over us?

Where is the one who watches over us?

The most common name people use to describe this creational force is God. But we never see him or her, or they, or it. People say that God is all-seeing and all-powerful. But what makes someone a God? Do you have to feel unconditional love for your subjects and be sinless to be qualified as a God? Or do you also have to possess unlimited power to comply with its conditions?

Unlimited power was something Celeste had. She could do anything. If the wish was there, she could blow up the sun, just like that. She could even resurrect it after it had been destroyed, all in a matter of seconds.

Or create a twin clone of the sun so it would not feel so alone anymore. Celeste almost did but refrained from actually carrying out such an act. She had only a slight notion of physics, but even she – with her common sense – understood that the consequences of creating a second heat source in the galaxy would lead to disastrous events throughout the planet. Sure, Celeste possessed the power to do something about that, but the complexity of such a task would be tantamount to working. And Celeste loathed working. She preferred to have things come to her easily.

Good thing she was omnipotent. Screw God! If that guy even exists. No one has ever seen him. And here Celeste was, all-powerful and beautiful, and in the flesh.

People should be worshipping her instead. And they will. Celeste will make sure of that.

As Celeste sat lazily in a chair, passively observing her hand, a ticklish sensation compelled her attention to shift to her right leg. A barely visible speck was trudging over the smoothness of her bare thigh. Celeste quickly learned that Wilfred had a thing for feminine legs – especially thighs.

He could wander around on his stepdaughter's legs for hours while speck-sized and never get tired of it. He'd frequently asked Celeste if he was allowed to live on one of her legs. But the Goddess had other plans for him.

Celeste wanted Wilfred to be her foremost missionary.

It was Celeste's aim to establish a new religion centered around her. Her ultimate goal was to see every human on the planet worshipping her.

With omnipotent power at your disposal, you easily made everyone submit to you. But that was not the way Celeste wanted to reach her end goal. A thing like that just would not feel authentic. She wanted the world to embrace her out of their own initiative. Wilfred had told her several times that a thing like that would never happen. There will always be proponents and opponents.

"Then I will make them," Celeste had stated. She did not care if they loved or feared her as long as they believed her to be the ultimate power in the universe.

Celeste's fingers groped the fabric of her skirt, pulling it slightly upwards to reveal more smooth skin for Wilfred to explore. After giving speck-sized Wilfred a smile, she turned her attention towards the shrunken society sprawled out at her feet. Wilfred did a great job these last few weeks in converting the Malaysian people to accepting Celeste as their Goddess. That's the main reason why Celeste rewarded him by allowing him to explore her body.

It satisfied her to see several statues, shrines and temples built throughout Kuala Lumpur – all devoted to her veneration.

And he'd done it all by himself! Celeste had not used a single gram of her powers to influence the mindset of these Malaysian people.

Of course, it did not hurt that Celeste boosted Wilfred's charisma and persuasiveness, making him irresistible to follow as a leader. But still, their turnaround was genuine. All people of Kuala Lumpur now loved or feared the teen brat as their Goddess. Most even prayed to her, begging Celeste for wealth, success and well-being. Or other stuff that they'd believed would improve their luck in life.

Several other shrunken cities near Kuala Lumpur still hadn't been fully converted yet. Kuala Lumpur's bubble of faith was strong and snowballing, but it had not yet devoured Celeste's shrunken society as a whole.

Celeste was not the least bit concerned. Every shrunken citizen would eventually submit to her. And in the meantime, Celeste could pass the time by playing with the rest of the world, which was her playground. As she lazily leaned back in her lazy chair, Celeste closed her eyes and chose a random country in the world to play with.

Germany

The economic engine of Europe had been untouched by Celeste's omnipotent clutches at this moment. They would feel her wrath.

A few days ago, Celeste went out into the open and revealed her powers to the world. She demonstrated her might in front of public television by attacking several cities spread throughout three continents on the world with just the sheer power of her mind by summoning high destructive thunderstorms, earthquakes and raging tidal waves. Millions died just like that. And as icing on the cake, Celeste shrunk down Iceland, Madagascar, and all of the Caribbean islands and conjured them in a translucent, spherical trinket she now wore as a necklace between her firm, warm boobs.

After displaying such a monstrous act, several countries immediately accepted her reign by letting their leaders bow in front of Celeste's feet.

The teen brat became only more powerful after that. So it could only be called the act of a fool when several defiant countries formed a united front and brazenly declared war on the godlike teen brat.

At sunset, massive armies were assembled to take down earth's biggest threat – an omnipotent juvenile.

All but a few soldiers realized before noon that Celeste was unstoppable. They dropped their weapons and swore fealty to her to express their newfound allegiance.

Only a handful of meaningful nations remained brazen. And Germany was one of them. As an epitome of humiliation, Celeste shrunk Berlin to a fraction of its original size and placed the city and its inhabitants into the dark depths of her sweaty boot. They were only allowed fresh air and daylight when each of them was willing to worship the teen Goddess. But the Berliners were stubborn, so Celeste was forced to shrink the city even smaller. Its more than 3 million citizens were placed on a toering as decoration and attached to Celeste's middle toe of her left foot.

It did not take long before all Berliners swore allegiance to Celeste. But by that time, the teen Goddess doted on her new ornament that she decided to keep it. It encouraged her to create even more similar-looking trinkets by shrinking more cities and countries to serve as decoration objects on the Goddess's body. Whole cities ended up living their existence on a piece of metal attached to Celeste's fingers or earlobes. There was even an entire country dangling from a piece of metal pierced through Celeste's right nipple.

As Celeste's mind roamed the planet searching for another city to harass, a tickling sensation was felt on the skin near her ankle, like a bug crawling there. She tried to do as if it wasn't there but whipped her eyes open with annoyance when it became too urgent to ignore. Celeste's hand shot down and took hold of a miniature figure standing on the floor.

Her trembling fist stopped when it soared in front of Celeste's angry eyes before opening up. A three-inch tall woman staggered while trying to find her footing on Celeste's palm.

"This better be good, mom! I was about to turn Madrid into a clit piercing!" Celeste fumed.

"E-excuse m-m-me, your m-majesty –"

"Goddess, mom! For the umpteenth time, call me Goddess! Every majesty is nothing but a lackey compared to me,"

"Mercy Goddess! Please have mercy!" Emma hastily sank to her knees, crying, fearing retribution from her daughter for such insolent behavior.

Celeste chuckled. "So you can speak without stuttering, hmm? I think I will make you spend the night in one of my emptied nail polish jars."

"Nooo, please!" Emma sobbed. "I will die!"

"Then I'll just resurrect you, mom. I'm omnipotent now, remember?" Celeste winked.

Emma scowled at her daughter. "You're nothing but a spoiled little brat! You do not deserve these powers!"

Celeste laughed heartily. "Wow, mom! From shivering squirrel to a defiant leopard in a matter of seconds. Quite the achievement, even for you."

"You won't get away with this!" Emma screeched while flailing her arms in Celeste's clenched fist."

"Who's going to stop me? God? I am God, mom! Now, pray to me for forgiveness while suffering your well-earned punishment."

With that, Celeste shrunk her mother even tinier and dropped her in a nail polish jar resting on her makeup desk.

Wilfred ceased praying when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind, reverberating through the church hall. He stood up from his kneeling position and straightened his robe. His bushy brows furrowed deeper than they already were when he saw Pascal, his head priest scurrying up to him like prowling tigers were pursuing him.

"Your holiness, come quick! There's an uproar in the eastern province!" Pascal said, looking all tattered like he hadn't had a good night's rest for two straight weeks.

Wilfred fiddled at his salt and pepper beard – a thing he allowed to grow to appear more authoritative – and thought diligently of a way to weasel out of his responsibility as the highest spiritual leader. He desperately craved to see his stepdaughter, his Goddess – even for a fleeting glimpse.

Celeste has not shown herself for weeks. Every morning when Wilfred stood up, he walked over to his balcony – that looked out over a great plaza where he occasionally addressed his followers – and looked with hope at the heavenly high boot rising beyond their city's skyline. It was still there.

Every time upon looking at it, Wilfred had the vain hope of seeing that it was no longer there, that The Goddess took the boot to wear for the day. Or to see a ginormous hand tumbling from the sky to collect it. Wilfred yearned to see a sign that his Goddess was still there, even indirectly.

However, most of all, he wanted to explore Celeste's hot body – but that was a thing he kept for himself.

Wilfred sighed. "Just send General Quasat to deal with it." He waved his hand dismissively and was about to walk off to continue his prayers in an endless attempt to contact his Goddess. But Pascal was not done yet.

"Impossible. General Quasat is the one leading this uproar, the instigator of this uprising, your holiness. There's a massive army on its way to the Capitol to overthrow you as we speak!"

Wilfred spun around, looking at his head priest in utter disbelief. "Overthrow?! Me?! The one who stands closest to The Goddess?!"

Pascal nodded. "I'm afraid so, your holiness. More and more people are starting to believe that The Goddess has abandoned us. Has abandoned you. She hasn't been seen for weeks."

"How many times do I have to tell you infidels that she lives in our hearts!" Wilfred snapped. "I knew this time would come one day."

"But people need a sign, your holiness. Some tangible evidence that The Goddess still lives among us."

"Mere mortals have nothing to 'want'! They should be grateful for having me. A physical presence that stands in direct connection with The Goddess."

"Excuse me my audacity, your holiness. B-but you have also not seen her for some time, haven't you?" Pascal asked.

Wilfred's nostrils fluttered with anger as he breezed: "How dare you question my authenticity!" He flashed his finger. "Do I need to throw you into the dungeons?"

Pascal opened his mouth to say something before a deep rumble made both men rush to the window.

Wilfred gaped at the humongous boot soaring beyond the skyline in hopes of seeing his Goddess. A giggle thundered down from the sky. But it was not a laughter Wilfred recognized as his stepdaughter's. It was, however, a peal of laughter he knew though.

Pascal, who stood next to him, gasped as a hand the size of a city emerged in the sky, reaching out to grab the boot.

Pascal removed his hat and sank down on his knees. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at Wilfred. "Your prayers have been heard, your holiness! She back! The Goddess is back!"

"No, she's not," Wilfred said as he scrutinized the hand that took hold of the boot. It looked feminine, alright. But it wasn't Celeste's. After thoroughly examining Celeste for years, Wilfred could tell this with ease. It was, however, a hand of someone he knew, though. A smiling face appeared above them, blocking out the light coming from the ceiling lamp.

"Emma," Wilfred said as his wife's beautiful face leered down upon them, her chestnut locks held out of her face by her hand. She looked amazingly sexy! Upon seeing her soaring above them all as an all-powerful giantess, Wilfred wanted nothing more than to worship her. His cravings for Celeste, his Goddess, were pushed to the background for the moment.

"Ahum," Pascal cleared his throat, tearing Wilfred's attention away from his gigantic wife. "what are your orders, your holiness?"

Pascal's eyes shifted uncomfortably between his eyes and Wilfred's lower region, making Wilfred glare at him in annoyance. It was only then that Wilfred realized that he was shamelessly jerking himself off while moaning deeply. The sight of his comely wife was too much for him to bear – especially after being deprived of the holiness of his stepdaughter for so long.

"Get out!" Wilfred screeched. He needed private time.

"B-but what about the uprising, your holiness?" Pascal stammered.

"LEAVE!" Wilfred bellowed. Pascal hurried out of the room like a mouse being chased by a cat.

Deep rumbles were felt, shaking Wilfred's palace at its foundation, when Emma stood up to her full height. She donned both boots and loomed over them while looking down upon them with her hands resting upon her hips. It was then that Wilfred saw that his wife was wearing her leather mistress outfit, clasped tightly around the rousingly curvy contours of her body.

It was a sight that was too much for Wilfred. He wanted to worship Emma immediately. He sank to his knees, throbbing cock still clasped in his hand, and spoke out loud: "I hereby renounce my faith in The Goddess Celeste and submit myself to her mother and my wife, The Goddess Emma!"

Emma's laughter seemingly split the sky open as it thundered overhead. "A bit of leather here and an alluring smile there and you're willing to convert, just like that. Would you abandon me also if my sister came parading here in stilettos and a mini skirt?"

Seeing Emma's five years younger sister Ciska as a godlike giantess while donned in stilettos and a mini skirt was a very tantalizing thought. Emma was probably right. If Ciska came here, looming over their shrunken society, he would probably submit to her also and forget about the other one. But he would never say that out loud.

"Sleazebag," Emma said, voice punctuated with disgust.

"I should just crush you beneath my boot and be done with it. A pity that The Goddess has other plans."

The Goddess? Wilfred jerked up. Is she still here?

"The Goddess has never left, idiot." Emma spat. Replying to his thoughts. "She has just chosen to live beyond the reality of our own. She has selected me as her successor and granted me the powers of a demigoddess so I can hold my grip on humanity."

"But, w-will I ever see her again?" Wilfred sulked. "Will I ever be able to venerate her in person?"

Emma snorted. "You mean ogling over her body? You will always be able to see the Goddess, Wilfred. Just look up."

"But there is no sky here!" Wilfred protested. "We're in her bedroom, remember?"

"Like I said," Emma continued, sounding a bit ruffled. "Look up."

Wilfred rolled his eyes upwards, staring, for his feeling, pointlessly at the ceiling of Celeste's bedroom. Up, countless lightyears away beyond an impregnable barrier, was someone observing him, smiling at him.

"Celes! Come down here, honey. I want you to meet someone!"

16-year-old Celeste took one long gander at her most precious possession, resting in a handheld wooden box. A whole galaxy swirled there within the confines of a small chest resting in Celeste's hand – with an uncountable number of suns, planets, and other celestial bodies orbiting in space. One particular planet held a special place in her heart. A blue-green one named Earth. She blew a kiss before closing the lid.

"Coming, mom!" she answered the call coming from downstairs. She stretched out, groaned, and placed her precious chest on her nightstand. Later that evening, when Celeste went to bed, she would stare at it all hypnotized until her eyelids became as heavy as rocks.

While mumbling the lyrics of a song that was residing in her head, Celeste made her way downstairs, where her mother greeted her in the living room with her new squeeze standing beside her.

"Hi! You must be, Celeste! I've heard so much about you," A friendly man said as he reached out a hand.

Celeste's answered the man's invitation for a handshake and gave him a dazzling smile in return. "And you must be, Andy! Nice to meet you!"

Celeste's heart leaped with joy when she recognized the longing in the man's eyes as he examined her from top to toe.

Yes, this promised to become a lovely day! No doubt about it!