Natalie sunk back into the huge lavish sofa. She looked at the woman who was sitting opposite her with the same caution she gave all her clients. Relaxed on the outside, the excitement within her was starting to build.

“I don’t understand this part,” said the woman, indicating a sentence half way down the three page document she held in her hand.

Natalie leaned forward casually and looked at the text the woman was pointing to.

“That just means we own the target,” said Natalie.

“I can’t keep him?”

“No,” said Natalie looking around the room casually, mentally totting up how much Mrs McBride was worth. “There’s a monthly handling fee and you’ll have twenty four hour access with the option to bring him home a certain number of times a year.”

Mrs McBride frowned.

“And that’s what this extra charge is for?” she asked.

Natalie leaned forward again, tucking her long raven black hair back behind her pixie like ears.

“Er, yes,” she said. “It covers the cost of home supervision.”

Natalie tried to guess how old Mrs McBride was. Probably in her early forties which was a good two decades older than herself. She looked good for her age though. Obviously good genes ran in her family as there were no signs of wrinkles or evidence of any cosmetic surgery. She was slim, tall and elegant, the way most women with extremely rich husbands tend to be.

Natalie watched Mrs McBride’s slender fingers hold the pen so delicately that it glided effortlessly over the paper as she ticked various boxes.

“What if I don’t want ...” Mrs McBride hesitated for a moment. “What if I don’t want the care option?”

Clients always asked this question, Natalie thought to herself. One day she might just get around to rewriting that part of the form.

“It’s all clearly explained,” said Natalie calmly. “Either you can take care of it, or we can take care of it. We can even do it without you having to be involved if you want.”

Mrs McBride sighed, subconsciously sliding the end of the pen between her perfect white teeth.

“If you’re not sure how you’re going to feel until it actually happens then it might be best to tick the undecided box for now.”

Mrs McBride’s full lips closed around the shaft of the pen, sucking the sterile plastic in deep thought.

“No, I’ve decided,” said Mrs McBride coldly.

Natalie was looking forward to getting home and having a long soak in the bath with a bottle of ice cold beer. It had been a particularly busy day today and it had taken an age to get the tube across London to see Mrs McBride in Kensington. Thank goodness she was nearing the end of the form.

“And this final part?” asked Mrs McBride. “I’m not sure quite what this means.”

Natalie knew this part off by heart, especially when dealing with super rich clients.

“It’s so we can take care of any financial papers that may need signing,” said Natalie.

Mrs McBride stared at that particular part of the form for a full minute before ticking one of the boxes. Her mouth was set in a particularly menacing grin as she placed the pen on the coffee table and handed the form to Natalie.

“You’re a very pretty young girl,” said Mrs McBride picking up her handbag from the floor and fishing around in it as she spoke. “You have stunning elfin features. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

“No not at all. Thank you,” said Natalie as she read through the form.

“I always wanted to be petite like you,” said Mrs McBride. “I took after my father though. He was an extremely tall man.”

Natalie tried to ignore Mrs McBride’s nostalgic observations as she double checked the form thoroughly.

“Everything seems to be in order,” said Natalie. “We just need a recent photograph now.”

Mrs McBride fished a photograph out of the handbag that was still propped on her lap. She handed it to Natalie with a sense of relief.

“When do I pay you?” asked Mrs McBride.

“Once the job is done,” said Natalie folding the form in half and sliding it into the inside pocket of her black leather biker’s jacket. “We’ll be in touch soon.”

Mrs McBride reached forward and gently held Natalie’s hand in her own.

“What do you call that style?” said Mrs McBride looking at Natalie’s clothes which were all black apart from a striking pair of red and black striped stockings.

“I don’t know really,” said Natalie shrugging. “Goth I suppose.”

“I like it,” said Mrs McBride. “It gives you an air of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ doesn’t it.”

Natalie was a little shocked to hear Mrs McBride swear.

“Will you be the one who does it?” asked Mrs McBride.

Natalie met Mrs McBride’s forlorn stare with kindness.

“Probably,” said Natalie.

Mrs McBride nodded approvingly.

“I’ll see you out now,” she said.

***

Natalie adjusted her green cleaner’s apron as she entered the lift. It had been altered to show off her cleavage and shortened to show off her shapely legs. In her right hand she carried the ever so reliable Henry Hoover, its bright orange body punctuated with a happy grinning cartoon face. She slid her pass key into the designated slot and pushed the button for the tenth floor. The lift doors seemed to take an age to close and even as the light from the foyer beyond vanished, Natalie always expected to see grasping fingers sliding in between the gap in an attempt to force the doors apart. The brightly lit numbers above the lift doors changed gradually from one, to two, to three until finally the number ten shone a bright blue to the accompaniment of a German sounding voice announcing to the occupant that this was floor ten.

Stepping out of the lift with little noise, Natalie bobbed her head left and right, her pig tails flicking to and fro as she took in her surroundings. She had committed the floor plans of McBride, Anderson and Neilson to memory the night before.

She turned left and walked purposefully down a corridor that had all the decorative features the mega rich high flying executives of London’s financial sector demanded. Gordon McBride’s office was the one at the very end of the corridor. As Natalie approached the office, she placed the vacuum cleaner on the floor. The light was on and she had double checked carefully that Gordon McBride was in today and was working late as he tended to do more and more these days.

Without knocking she opened the door and waltzed straight into Gordon McBride’s office whilst he was on the telephone. Before he could voice his dissatisfaction at being interrupted she pulled a duster from the confines of her apron and, leaning over the front of his desk, she began to dust around the items in front of him. Natalie made sure that Gordon McBride had a perfect view down her cleavage as she leaned over his desk. Then, very deliberately she turned around and bent over to unwind the electric lead from the vacuum cleaner.

Natalie could feel Gordon McBride’s hungry eyes staring at the top of the back of her thighs as she stood bent over, the short apron leaving very little to the imagination.

“I’ll call you back Norman,” said Gordon McBride, placing the telephone handset back in its cradle.

Natalie smiled to herself, stood back up and then turned back around to face the high flying executive who was now leaning back in his large leather chair.

“You’re new,” said Gordon McBride, his eyes devouring Natalie’s every move. “And a breath of fresh air I must say.”

Natalie smiled her ever so slightly crooked smile and continued to dust around the room, attacking pictures on the wall and a floor standing modern art sculpture with her duster.

“Is cleaning the only thing you do?” asked Gordon McBride, shifting in his chair slightly as his excitement began to take hold.

“What do you mean?” said Natalie, putting on a slightly giggly voice.

She had manoeuvred herself around the room, and was now standing behind the sexually excited executive.

“I didn’t mean anything,” said Gordon McBride. “I was just making conversation.”

The fine art of seduction had begun. Gordon McBride was testing the water. Natalie knew the game. He wanted to swim in the inviting waters before him but first he needed to be sure there were no sharks lurking beneath the surface in the form of sexual harassment law suits.

“That’s a shame,” said Natalie taking the initiative, “because from where I’m standing you look a little tense.”

Natalie knew she would have him eating out of her hand within a few seconds. These rich and powerful city men were all the same. She sidled up behind Gordon McBride and leaned forward so her firm breasts were now pressed up against the nape of his neck.

He let out a long sigh as she caressed the back of his neck whilst her other hand reached inside her apron pocket and withdrew a small syringe.

With no thought of hesitation Natalie jabbed the syringe into the back of Gordon McBride’s neck, depressing the plunger at the precise moment the sharp needle pierced his skin. Gordon McBride cried out in pain and instinctively swiped at his neck. Natalie was quicker though and withdrew the syringe before he could grab at her hand.

Taking a step back, Natalie admired her handiwork. She felt an excitement beginning to build between her thighs. Her breathing came in short gasps of pleasure as she watched Gordon McBride fall from his chair and sink to his knees.

Natalie loved her men on their knees.

“What the hell?” he cried.

He was already starting to shrink slowly into his clothes. His shirt swamped him as he shrunk smaller and smaller and with a final squeak Gordon McBride disappeared into his clothing which now lay in a crumpled pile on his office floor.

Natalie jumped up and down like a small child and clapped her hands together in excitement. She pounced onto the floor with the grace of a cat hunting its prey. On hands and knees, with her face low to the floor, her green eyes sparkled as she focussed solely on the pile of clothes in front of her. Her bottom wiggled playfully in the air as she crept towards the shrink site.

“Come out, come out wherever you are?” she whispered in a mocking tone.

Natalie sifted through Gordon McBride’s items of clothing one by one, checking each item carefully and methodically.

“There you are,” said Natalie softly as she picked up his left shoe.

She held the shoe up close to her face and grinned at the now tiny Gordon McBride who was cowering inside it.

“Get away from me,” he screamed as he scrambled into the dark sanctuary of his shoe’s toe cap.

Natalie giggled and tipped the shoe upside down, emptying the tiny and very naked Gordon McBride onto the open palm of her hand.

“Oh my, you’re no bigger than my little finger,” said Natalie, mocking the rich city man’s predicament.

“This can’t be real!” he stammered as he fought to keep his balance on the palm of Natalie’s hand. “I must be drugged.”

“Does this feel real little man?” asked Natalie as she closed her fist around the tiny man and squeezed gently.

She could feel his hysteria building beneath her fingers as he struggled to escape from her grip.

“No!” screamed Gordon McBride as Natalie opened up her fist. “This is impossible.”

The tiny man sunk to his knees as Natalie lifted him up close up to her face and grinned menacingly at him.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he said, his hands clasped together in prayer. “I’ve got money. I can pay you. Just return me to normal.”

“I’m afraid no amount of money is going to save you,” said Natalie as she sat down on his huge leather chair. She slowly unbuttoned her cleaner’s apron and then slid the hem of her tight black mini skirt up towards her hips.

Parting her legs she placed the tiny man on the leather chair between her thighs.

“I forgot to put on any panties today,” Natalie said seductively. “I hope you don’t mind. It makes me feel ever so horny.”

Gordon McBride stood transfixed by the view in front of him and the two walls of black and red nylon either side of him that cast a dark shadow over where he now stood.

Natalie hooked her left thumb into the top of her right stocking and pulled the elasticated fabric away from her skin. She reached down and with her other hand picked up the tiny and helpless Gordon McBride.

“In you go,” said Natalie as she slid him into the top of her stocking.

She unhooked her thumb from the sticky elastic and Gordon McBride became entombed against her soft thigh, a struggling bump beneath nylon mesh.

Natalie readjusted her min skirt, fastened her apron and then stood up. She walked over to the Henry Hoover and pushed a green button on the side of it. The lid of the vacuum cleaner flipped up to reveal an empty storage space within where a motor and dust bag should have been housed. Natalie gathered up Gordon McBride’s clothes and stuffed them into the vacuum cleaner. Popping the lid down, she picked up Henry and made her way back to the lift. A sly grin crossed her lips as she thought of Gordon McBride trapped inside her stocking wondering what was going to become of him.

Natalie entered the lift, inserted her pass card and pressed the button for the ground floor.

It was going to be a very long but extremely fun night.

Gordon tried to move but he was held firmly in place by the young woman’s stocking. He stared out through a nylon haze, his brain unable to comprehend the view beyond. He felt like he was strapped to a giant pendulum. It was impossible to move. Above him her hold up stocking was secured tightly around her thigh by the rubbery elasticated band and below him it looked like she was wearing a garter which prevented him from sliding down her leg.

The view above him was intoxicating, mind blowing even and on any other occasion Gordon would have blown his load there and then but this was far from being a normal situation and he was terrified. His stomach lurched with each giant step the young woman took, compounded by the view of her other leg moving in the opposite direction which disorientated him further. The floor moved floor moved him at a startling speed, making his head spin further. He closed his eyes tightly and pressed himself back into the soft inner thigh of his captor.

Familiar sounds buzzed around Gordon’s ears. The ping of the lift arriving; the swish of the doors opening and closing and the clunking of mechanical switch gear muffled deep within the lift shaft.

“Goodnight Miss,” said Charlie the security guard at the front door.

His voice sounded deep and resonant at this size.

“Charlie!” screamed Gordon at the top of his voice, his lungs bursting with effort, his throat raw with terror.

There was no response; just the sound of the foyer door opening which was quickly replaced by the sound of a city at night. The social hum of London’s financial district floated upon the air. Music from pubs and bars and the sound of couples laughing all made the journey to the tube station that much more surreal. The echo of his captor’s boots on the pavement intensified as she descended the steps down into Bank underground station. Gordon recognized the sounds and smells of a place he had travelled to and from a thousand times before. Even through the red nylon haze here was a view he instantly recognized, only now it felt like he was looking at it from the end of tunnel. The familiar view of the tiled floor peppered with the occasional clump of chewing gum seemed like some bizarre parallel universe at this size.

Suddenly he felt the young woman speed up, her pace breaking out into a run which jolted him back and forth violently.

“Mind the gap.”

The sound of the tube train doors closing was quickly followed by a huge shudder as he felt the young woman sit down. The inner thigh of her other leg moved against him, smothering him so he could barely breathe.

Gordon twisted and turned his head to find gap in the pair of colossal thighs that now engulfed him. He could feel the thudding pulse of the young woman’s femoral artery against his body and with each pulse he could feel the life ebbing away from him as he struggled for breath. The young woman shifted in her seat, a huge earthquake of a movement for the tiny man trapped in her stocking but her legs parted slightly and Gordon gratefully sucked in the warm air that surrounded him.

For what seemed like forever, Gordon lay still, not daring to move in case he caused his gigantic captor to shift her position. He closed his eyes. The rocking sensation of the train coupled with the young woman’s warm skin next to his naked body was starting to make him feel drowsy.

A man’s voice, slurred and slightly aggressive woke Gordon from his brief slumber.

“Hello beautiful,” said the gruff voice. “What’s a pretty little thing like you doing on the underground all by herself this late at night?”

Gordon felt sick as he felt the man sit next to the young woman, the seat lurching violently. His mind turned somersaults running through the various scenarios that were about to occur in the carriage. Images of the young woman being raped and this drunken arsehole finding him hidden in her stocking filled his imagination. A soft whimper escaped his lips.

“Give us a kiss,” said the man.

“Fuck off dickhead !” came the acidic but calm reply.

Gordon felt the woman tense up. The roar that came from the man completely overwhelmed him.

“You fuckin’ what?” he yelled, the seat moving up slightly as the man stood up. “I’ll teach you, you fuckin’ bitch.”

There was a sound of something hard being struck with force. Gordon struggled inside the young woman’s stocking to get a better view but all he could see was a wall of red and black nylon encased skin. He gasped as the woman parted her legs, the light from the tube train fluorescent lights barely filtering beneath her short skirt. The man was on his hands and knees on the floor at the young woman’s feet gasping for air. He looked up angry and shocked which lasted only seconds as his eyes focussed on what was missing beneath the young woman’s skirt. Lust replaced anger as the woman opened her legs further.

“No knickers,” said the woman giggling.

Gordon watched the lout’s strained face turn to terror as he began to shrink into his clothes. The lout’s screams were soon muffled by his clothing and then there was silence. Gordon stared at the clothing in disbelief. He could just make out a tiny bump beneath the dormant pair of jeans, moving ever so tentatively towards the nearest opening.

The woman remained still, but she was panting heavily, her breathing irregular. Gordon listened carefully as he watched the tiny bump move closer and closer to the bottom of the left leg of the pair of jeans.

The woman’s left hand swooped in beneath her skirt, brushing Gordon’s tiny body along the way. He strained his neck to look backwards and beyond where he was trapped. The woman’s fingertips were gently caressing her pussy. Little groans emitted from her as she gently played with herself. Gordon was completely mesmerized by the sight. His neck ached and his view was slightly obscured by her stocking but he could not take his eyes off the woman’s fingers as she openly masturbated in the train carriage. He could feel himself getting hard as she groaned louder. It was like watching a 3D pornographic movie on a giant I-Max screen.

The speed at which the young woman leant forward took Gordon by surprise, but he could feel the shift in weight of on her thighs and then just as quickly she was sitting back upright again. Gordon wanted to turn his head and see what had become of the shrunken lout but he couldn’t avert his gaze from the wondrous display of sexuality behind him.

The young woman’s right hand slid past Gordon and in its grip was the man who was now regretting being so aggressive. The look of sheer terror turned to surprise as the man slid by Gordon and their eyes met for a moment. He kicked and struggled in the young woman’s grip but as he was now the same size as Gordon he was completely powerless

Gordon watched as the young woman positioned the naked man feet first in front of her glistening pussy and then like some alien predator on a cheap science fiction movie it swallowed him whole as the woman pushed him inside her. He screamed and screamed as first his legs, then his waist, then his torso and finally his head were all effortlessly swallowed up by this woman’s lust. She continued to play with herself with her right hand and within matter of minutes her giant orgasm came shuddering through her body, her thighs tensing from the gorgeous climax.

With her sexual appetite satiated for now, she withdrew her hand, her fingers playfully caressing the inside of her thigh as they moved closer and closer to where Gordon lay trapped. He could see the ever so light glistening trail of satisfaction following the trail of this giant woman’s fingers that gently moved across her nylon stocking and the tiny man trapped beneath.

Gordon began to wonder how long the man could survive inside this woman’s vagina. Would he suffocate first? Had her vaginal muscles already crushed the life from him?

The woman shuddered again. Another giant orgasm erupted through her body. The tiny drunken lout was obviously still alive and kicking only realizing now that the more he struggled to escape the more pleasure it brought this seemingly unstoppable harpy. The young woman crossed her legs, cutting off Gordon’s view of a seemingly deadly paradise.

The train stopped numerous times before the young woman disembarked. People came and went on the carriage but not one of them commented on the abandoned clothes that lay on the floor of the carriage. Gordon had felt the woman pick something up off the floor about five minutes after having her second orgasm. He rather suspected this was the lout’s wallet, including any forms of identity, and they were now possibly tucked away safely on the confines of the young woman.

The journey to the young woman’s hose took about twenty minutes. Gordon could only assume it was her house from the fact that she let herself in using a key, an unmistakable sound that he’d carefully listened out for.

Gordon listened to the sounds of various fumbling around. He heard the sound of the television being turned on. A beer or some other bottled beverage retrieved from the fridge. All were familiar sounds to him but at this sound they were strangely amplified and far more distinct. He couldn’t work out whereabouts in the house he was. She had gone up two sets of stairs and he could only imagine she was now in her bedroom. Her feet padded softly across the carpet, her boots long since discarded at the front door. The carpet changed to white tiles and there was no mistaking the beautiful fragrant or the strange acoustics. The young woman was now in the bathroom, most probably an ensuite.  

“Jesus,” shouted Gordon as the young woman squatted on the toilet and began to pee. The sound of her urine hitting the water below roared like the Niagra Falls. The thud-a-dud-dud of the toilet roll spinning in its roller was folled by a rearing sound and then the woman’s hand appeared between her thighs holding a large wedge of toilet paper. She dabbed at her pussy and then parted the lips with her finger and thumb. There was another gasp of excitement as she extended her index finger into the glistening hole.

Gordon nearly gagged as the lout slid lifelessly from inside her and hit the water far below with a splash. The young woman was humming now as she finished dabbing herself and then discarded the toilet paper from her hand into the toilet. She was flushing even as she stood up and Gordon could just make out the dead man being engulfed in water and tissue paper before disappearing beneath the surface to be discharged into the sewers and never seen again.

“Now it’s your turn Mr McBride,” she said with an overwhelming sound of joy.

Gordon McBride began to scream as her hand made its inevitable appearance beneath her skirt, her huge fingers seeking to take hold of him.