"And there are two main reasons why nobody will ever help you with your idiotic, self-absorbed, pathetic, tiny-"


"This giant, rambling blonde in front of me is my supervisor Bridgette. The only back story you need to know is that A: she is devious, cunning, bitchy, and ruthless and B: she's gorgeous, intelligent, great at her job and over anything else. . . Tall."


"Weasely little rebellion! For one: nobody here likes you! You walk around with this attitude like nothing anyone else has to say has any weight to it. I understand that you are an amazing programmer, and really are an asset to the company, but that doesn't change the fact that you're impossible to work with and everyone more or less just tolerates you for the good of the business."



"Jesus, why is she still talking?" I thought to myself as I inadvertently tuned her back out. I couldn't help but let my eyes wonder up her gigantic curvy form. "God she's huge"


Saying "she's huge" was a gross understatement, considering all employees except supervisors and upper management were shrunken upon entering the facility every day. It seemed odd to me at first, but with everything and everyone around you the same size, you get used to it. The company claimed it was for security reasons and the top secret nature of the business, but I have a sneaking suspicion that that is bullshit. Being here now in front of my supervisor at a meager 6 inches tall and knowing she had full authority to do whatever she deemed necessary to adjust my attitude, was proof of that.

I broke my train of thought to look up at her. She was glaring down at me with her hands on her hips, and her high heel tapping.

"Uhh..what?" I asked stupidly.

She knew full well that I wasn't paying her any attention.

"You little shit." She said coldly, and my heart stopped as she slowly stepped out of her high heels, one foot at a time. I felt the floor tremble a little bit as each panty-hosed foot touched back down on the carpet on her office floor.

"Look, Bridgette. . . I don't know what you think you heard, but I wasn't plotting against you!" I began, working on my way out of my current situation. "I think you're doing a great job with this Chen deal. . . . I just had some colorful suggestions that I shared with some of the members of section 6! That's all!" I explained, holding my hands up non-threateningly as I slowly backed away from the enormous, irritated young lady in front of me.

"You know. . . . If you weren't such an underhanded, scheming little shit, I might actually believe that!" She said sarcastically as she began to walk towards my retreating form.

"In. . . In my defense, I'm not really that little, but this fucked u- . . .this great company finds it necessary to shrink us down when we're locked in here!" I tried as I felt my back touch the glass wall of her office that bordered the miniature offices of all the standard employees.

"Oh don't give me that! I'm not even going to begin to get into company policy with you right now but I've read your file Marcus! You're 5 foot 6, 125 pounds outside these walls. Hardly what I'd consider anything other than "a little shit." She answered, thumping to a stop, pinning me against the wall and blocking any escape routes.
.
At this point, I let my temper get the best of me. I know now I wasn't a good idea but you live and you learn I guess. I wasn't about to let this little brat who was a year younger than me, talk down to me like that.

"Fuck off Bridgette! What are you, 5'7-5'8?!" I questioned, my voice cracking and my fists balled.

She laughed.

"I'm 6'2 barefoot! 168 lbs, little man."

I swallowed hard as I crunched the numbers in my head.

"So what!" Was the only response I could come up with. Pathetic I know, but being faced with this giant nemesis was more than enough to slow my brain down.

"So what? So what? . . . So I could stomp your little ass even if you were full sized."

"Stomp me?" What the fuck was she talking about?

"Are you threatening me?" I asked, taking a step forward.

She only smirked as she looked down at my tiny form at her feet.

"This is such bullshit! I don't have to take this! I'm going to HR, right now!" I said loudly and awkwardly pushed past her right foot towards the door.

I was half way to the shrunken employee sized door when I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye, and was stopped dead in my tracks as bridgette's massive manicured hand wrapped around my torso and hoisted me from the floor.

I was instantly whisked up to her smirking face and made to stare her in the eye. At this point I was raging, but the disconnect between my anger and my size didn't really register.

"Seriously Bridgette, put me the fuck down! Once I talk to HR, you're as good as fired!" I screamed at her.

The look on her face was unchanging, and I should have been worried about that, but my mind was clouded by anger.

"Just who. . .do you think referred you for this little meeting with me?" Bridgette asked, feigning confusion.

I was too busy squirming in her hand, to stop and ponder her question, which seemed to annoy her as she walked over to her desk.

"Failure to promote synergy and team building" Bridgette read from a note on her desk.

"Yeah, and how does abuse of power and threat of violence sound to you?" I spat back.

Her long fingers immediately gathered my arms and coiled tight around my chest. Her smile never wavered though.

"You still don't get it do you? You actually think that we shrink you down just to save on office space and for "security reasons"? She asked, straightening some items on her desk and paying me little mind.

"The truth is, yes, it is about those things, but it's also to better keep our "assets" in line." She said coldly

I looked at her in disbelief.

"We're. . . . We're fucking humans! Not just another number you can move around to increase profits!" I shouted at her.

"Hey! Don't complain to ME about that! I'm as much a cog in the machine as you are." She said, defending herself. "The only difference is I keep the best interests of the company in mind at all times, not my own selfish ambitions like some people around here."

"Heh! Pretty convenient that you're a "cog" that gets her own office and somehow DOESN'T take up too much precious space by being full sized. But no yeah, you're totally one of us." I said sarcastically, and to my satisfaction, I seemed to strike a nerve.

Bridgette's smile faded and her eyes narrowed. A moment later, I was being slung through the air and my face was plowed into the top of her desk. Waves of pain flooded over me as her now open palm applied pressure to my back. Her giant, beautiful face appeared in my vision and it wore a scowl.

"How are you still not getting this!? You're supposed to be some brilliant computer programmer yet you can't fathom this? All the supervisors are left at normal size, just so we can tweak, bend and adjust attitudes, and squash all the little. . . . Day to day problems!" She said, putting the exclamation point on her sentence by vigorously grinding my front into her desk top.

Finally she stopped smearing me, and released me, leaving my clothes wrinkled as I panted on her desk. After I caught my breath, I rolled over to look up at her.

"You. . . You really think you can get away with this? All of you?. . . I'll. . . I'll go to the press. . . I'll burn this corrupt place to the ground!

She only chuckled as she reached for me again, scooping me up. This time I was glided through the air until my face met the glass of her outward facing window with the sound of a bird striking it. I groaned out, as Bridgette used me to clean a small smudge on her glass. From there, she kept me pinned and brought her plump red lips, right up next to my tiny, pressed head.

"Marcus, Marcus, tiny stupid, insignificant Marcus. If you had bothered to read the contract you were given at the time of your employment. . . You'd know that you willingly submitted yourself to all of this. The daily shrinking, the nice little attitude adjustment you're about to receive in a minute. . . . It's all by the book and perfectly legal. Your ideas, your hopes and dreams, everything! You belong to us."

Bridgette finished her speech, and she could see the desired result in my eyes as she peeled me from the window and lowered me to the floor again, laying me on my stomach, face down. . . . . She had crushed my spirit. I only wish she would have stopped there.

As the possibility of what she was saying being true sunk into me, I felt the tremor of my giant overseer, stepping up to me. At this point, I was still convinced that she was just trying to get in my head, so I didn't give her the satisfaction of looking at her pudgy, nylon clad feet. In hindsight, I should have. Maybe I could have made a run for it.

I flinched as I felt something press into my butt and upper legs. The pressure was firm but bearable. That didn't last long. I'm not sure if she was just testing my structure or what, but a second later, my whole lower body shot with pain as Bridgette stepped on to me with her full weight. I let out a loud howl of pain as she flattened my legs under her soft sole. I clutched my head in agony as she repositioned her foot, and stepped again.

"Are you finally getting it now?" Bridgette's smug voice came to me from above. "By making everyone but essential personnel tiny, suddenly, a mousey little 5'2 secretary, becomes as effective as 6 male body guards. And as you should have noticed, your little legs aren't snapped like twigs beneath my feet. That is the side effect of the shrinking. You become more dense. . . . Which for you, is really saying something." She added, and I felt what I imagined was her big toe, squash the back of my head, pushing my face into the carpet.

"It's mostly for liability purposes. We don't need a lawsuit for someone "accidentally" getting stepped on. But, they tell me that eventually the connection was made, that the durability could be used for. . . . Other purposes. . . . And here we are."

By this point, I knew I was about to be squashed. Probably to within an inch of my life. That wasn't the focus right now. I never really tried to fight the inevitable, so my mind jumped the phase where I hoped someone would intervene and save me. Instead, as this dominating, female presence began to knead me into the floor like bread dough, popping my joints and flattening my features with her wide soles, I began to plot my revenge.

I woke up in my bed the next day. I had no recollection of even leaving bridgette's office and entering my apartment. The last thing I remembered, was gritting my teeth as my upper and lower body were alternately marched into the floor by my gigantic 24 year old supervisor.


I made an attempt to roll over, but found that my body felt like it had been ran over by a freight train. . . . The pounding migraine in my head told me that I was calling in sick today. . . . Definitely.


A half hour later, I peeled myself out of bed and collapsed onto the couch on my living room. For the first time, I glanced at my phone.


[8:28 A.M. 2-15-18]


Fuck!. . . .only a half hour to get to the-


Wait. . . . .the 15th?


. . . . .yesterday was the 10th. . . . . I fucking know it was.


As I glanced around my apartment, trying to keep my sanity, I noticed a sticky note that wasn't on my fridge before.


"What the fuck?" I said under my breath.


Walking over to it, I saw that it had the company logo on it. Confused, I snatched it off the door and read it.


[You're on vacation time until you come back. You have 5 days saved. 2-10-18]


I crumpled up the note and slammed it on the floor. I knew it was bridgette's hand writing and it pissed me off immediately. The more I thought about it, the more angry I became.


"That fucking bitch!" I shouted as I sat down at computer. "How does she think that she can squash me into next week literally, then force me to use MY vacation time to recover from the fucking coma! She isn't getting away with this."

At this point, I wasn't thinking clearly. I smashed through company files on my computer, searching for anything that I could use to start my revenge. It was then when I came across the file copy of my contract. I held the mouse over it for a few seconds, pondering, before I moved on and kept searching.


Finally I came across something I might be able to use. . . Bridgette's employee file. Just then, my phone went off, signalling I had a new email on my company email address. I tapped on it and saw that it was a memo on company policy and synergy. That alone was enough to make me sicker than I already was, but then I saw that it was drafted by Bridgette herself.


"Fuck that!" I said to myself, and turned back to my computer.


My heart dropped.


My account had been locked out.


I tried my password again, but it prompted an executive lock out. . . . . I thought for a second before I realized what had happened.


Bridgette was fucking with me.


It had totally slipped my mind that she could see every employee that was on the company server. When I was on the clock, it wasn't a problem, but now. . . .



I wasn't about to read through her bullshit email but I could almost guarantee it was more or less directed at me.


"Fuck!"


I knew I couldn't do this alone. The problem was, the last time, I wasn't discrete enough about recruiting help. I knew THAT couldn't happen again. The pain throughout my whole body assured me of that. In the time since I had woken up, I had looked over my body, and the bruises upon bruises were proof positive that Bridgette had no problem what so ever with flattening me into a human pancake. Whatever I was planning, would have to strike fast and hard,or the next time, I would likely be waking up in a hospital, or worse.



I turned off my computer and sat down on my couch, with my head in my hands. Who could I turn to. . . . Who else had Bridgette wronged in her first 8 months. . .


The truth was. . . . . No one really.


As much as I hat-. . . As much as I "disagreed" with her on a lot of things, she really wasn't a horrible supervisor. Her work and logic were flawless 98.3% of the time, but I think my willingness to call her out on the rest, is what got me on her radar.

The thing that gave me a narrow window of hope, is that she had made it seem that I wasn't the first person to feel her. . . .or at least a supervisors wrath. The problem is, I wasn't exactly sure who had or hadn't been "adjusted". . . But I had a solution.

For the rest of the day, I swallowed Advil and lounged around my apartment. Tomorrow was already Wednesday and I hadn't got any work done on the most recent project my section had been given. I really would have liked to think that I could rely on my subordinate, Greta Pollack, to pick up my slack, but I had a strong feeling I was going to have to chew her ass tomorrow. Not something I was looking forward to, as we never really got along, but I had to admit that we did work well together. Me, being more calculated and technical, her more free flowing and creative.


Finally around 11:30, I drifted off to sleep, with tomorrow's tasks on my mind.


I walked into the office and sat down at my desk. As to be expected. . . There was a huge stack of paperwork on it. I glanced over, and noticed that Greta was nowhere to be seen. . . . Great.


I spent the morning keeping to myself, chipping away at the easier assignments. I left the more creativity based items for Greta, setting them to the side as I sifted through for anything more I could get done before I ate my lunch.

I had just took a bite of my sandwich, when a memo popped up on my screen. Bridgette wanted to see me in her office when I was finished. . . . Jesus.

All the possible reasons she might want to see me swirled in my head, but I put it out of my mind as I finished my lunch. Outside her door, I swallowed hard, then knocked.


"Come on in!" A voice came from inside.


I stepped into the office, closing the door behind me. Turning around, I had flashbacks of the last time I was there, but I tried not to let my fear show.



Bridgette was shuffling through papers on her desk as I slowly walked up to the hover platform that brought the tiny employees up to the level of their supervisors. My stomach fluttered as the pad jump upward and stopped when it was even with her desk top.


I stepped off and on to the wooden surface where I was last smeared like a paper towel. Only then did Bridgette acknowledge me.



"Hey Marcus!" She greeted me cheerfully.


Her tone surprised me, probably more than it should have. I remained quiet.


She brushed a stray hair out of her face, then spoke.


"Have you had a chance to look at the design outline for the new deal we aquired?" She asked, all business.


I squinted my eyes in suspicion. Was she really going to act as if she hadn't squashed me into an induced coma not a week ago, just for thinking someone else might be more qualified to handle some things around here?


"Uh yeah. . . . I got a start on it. . . . The thing is, I've reached the part where Greta usually comes in. . . I haven't seen her lazy ass all morning!" I replied, not really putting as much of a filter on myself as I should have, although she made no comment on it.


"You. . . Didn't get the memo I sent out yesterday? I'm 99% sure, I had your e-mail address in there. ."



"To tell you the truth Bridgette, I saw it. . And I was GOING to skim through it, but then something came up and I haven't had time since." I lied through my teeth.


"Oh, well you should probably get on that. I need a full draft on my desk by tomorrow morning. Steph' s been up my ass about it all week, and with Samantha on vacation, it's really messed with my work flow.


Samantha on vacation? I questioned internally. Why would Samantha be using vacation days now, when the whole office knew she always saved them for her annual trip to Germany? My curiosity was peaked, but I didn't push the question. My plan was to lay low for at least a little while. Not confront anyone with whom I only stood at calf height.

"Alright Bridgette, I'll do what I can." I said as she dismissed me from her office and went back to the papers on her desk.

I tried to keep calm, but anger was welling up inside me. Greta not showing up, effectively getting me buried in work, on top of Bridgette acting like nothing had happened. . . . I'm pretty sure she was doing that intentionally just to piss me off. There was no possible way that it didn't amuse her to make me squirm.


On my way back to my cubicle, I passed my friend Monte' s desk. He always had the low down on where and why every one was gone from the work day, so it would be good to find out where both Greta and Samantha were.


"Hey Monte?" I asked, leaning over his fabricated barrier.


"What's up buddy?" He replied, in his normal fast paced style.


"You don't happen to know where Greta is today do you? Her lazy ass is totally screwing me over right now with the work load." I inquired.


"A better question is, where were you man? Just bailing on a Thursday afternoon to go on a hiking trip? Talk about living free!" He chuckled.


Hiking trip? What the fuck was he talking about?


"No Monte I wasn't-" I began but he cut me short.


"Haha I'm just giving you shit! But no, Greta has been in her office all day man." He said, pointing to an open full sized door 3 down from bridgette's.

I looked at him confused.

"You know her desk is right next to mine, over there right?" I asked him, stupidly.

"You didn't read the memo on your hiking adventure? Greta got promoted by Bridgette, that first day you were gone. She's full sized now! Pretty sweet gig. It's a new position that upper management just created for the tech and design department. She seems to really like it! You better go say hi man, she's your new boss." And with that, Monte turned back to his work.


Dread and anger rose in me in equal value. The woman I had given so much shit to over the past 2 years was now my boss. I decided that bridgette's bullshit assignments would have to wait. I made a B-line right for Greta's "new office".

I entered and a small buzzer let Greta know that a tiny person had entered her office. It was a safety precaution so that no one ironically got stepped on. Before she looked up, I looked her over.

She was wearing her standard summer dress, and flip flops. I couldn't help but fixate on her baby blue painted toe nails. It was a crazy experience, seeing someone you used to look down on, now suddenly big enough to do just about anything to you.

She looked away from her computer screen and flashed me a warm smile. Her smile was her best feature. Don't get me wrong, she was cute, in a nerdy type of way, with her big framed glasses and wavy brown hair, but her smile could ease any tension and lighten the mood in a room. Today though, it only seemed to piss me further off.

"Hey Marcus! Come to check out my new pad?" She asked enthusiastically.

I stomped over to the platform and roseto desk level. I should have played it cool, but I immediately lost it on her. Old habits die hard I guess.

"Greta! What the fuck are you doing in here?! I'm in over my head out there, because you aren't pulling your weight, like usual. I'm gone for a few days and everything gets turned upside down! I shouted at her.

The familiar frightened, timid, look that I had grown to know replaced her vibrant smile. She may have been full sized now, but I still had power over her.

"Is this how Mr. Jensen always talks to you?"

I cringed when I heard the all too familiar voice of the office HR rep, Lydia Jackson. I cursed my stupidity for not noticing her as she rose from her position in the corner of the office where she was organising books onto a little shell.

The desk shook lightly as she strode to its edge opposite Greta. I was effectively sandwiched between these giant women.

"Uh. . . .yeah. we. . . We like to joke around. . " Greta answered weakly. I knew instantly that Lydia wasn't buying it.

"Huh. . . . That IS funny, because that sounded to me, an awful lot like verbal abuse. . . . And you both know that we don't tolerate verbal abuse inside our walls. . . . So I'll ask you Greta. . . . Does Marcus verbally abuse You?"

Both my and Lydia's eyes were on her now. It looked for a moment like she would say something, but to my dismay, she only hung her head and looked away.


"That's what I thought." Lydia said with no hint of emotion in her voice. My heart dropped when I saw her pull out her referral pad. A notebook where she kept track of employee reprimands and records. She began to write.


"What. . . What do you think you're doing?" I asked her. Probably more aggressive than I should have.

She didn't even bother to look up at me as she wrote.

"You know Marcus. . . . I REALLY thought you would have learned your lesson after the little meeting you had with Bridgette last week. I mean, you took a few days off, I presumed to clear your head and start fresh. . . But as soon as you get back. . . . Here you are breaking company policy again. . . And on your brand new supervisor at that." She said as she wrote in her notepad.

Lydia looked over her referral, before handing it to Greta.

"This will be a good test for you. Your first disciplinary action. Normally, I would have you perform a verbal first, but you might as well jump in head first I think. Good luck!" Lydia said, offering no further advice before she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

I knew I didn't have much time to act. If I let her think about it for too long, Greta would start to remember all the times I was a complete asshole to her.

"Greta listen! This company. . . . It's not what you think it is. . . . Behind the scenes. . . . They-


"Marcus. . . Just stop. First of all, not all of us are so stupid as to not understand why the supervisors were huge to begin with. It's literally in every contract. . . In the fine print. . .but in there none the less!" Greta said, cutting me off.

I processed what she said, but my brain was still used to looking down on her and my mouth shot off unexpectedly.


"Greta! I know you're a little slow sometimes, but you can't honestly understand this and be ok with it!" I shouted at her.

Her left eye twitched behind the thick lense as she comprehended my brazen behavior, before her hand shot out and snatched me up.

"Slow, is mouthing off to any one who is 10 times your size and has written permission to squash you as she sees fit!" Greta shouted at me.

I knew I was in trouble. I had pushed her to this point many times before, the only difference was that before, she was only 2 or 3 inches taller than me. Most of the time, my discretion was met with a punch to the shoulder or slap to the back of the head, and a nasty verbal assault. . . . I wasn't going to be so lucky today.

Greta's right hand joined her left around my torso and they proceeded to squeeze the shit out of me. My vision went blurry, then white as she poured in pressure.

"And this on the heels of Bridgette working you over last week? You're honestly unbelievable! By the way. . . . How was your little vacation anyway?" Greta asked, laughing in my face.

She eased the pressure, allowing me to breathe just as my face was taking on another shade of blue. I gasped hard, and started coughing uncontrollably. Greta had a devilish grin as she held me up to her face.

"Oh yeah. . . . This little work arrangement is going to work out great!"

My head slumped as I wheezed in breath and thought carefully about what to say next.


"Wh. . . What the fuck Greta! " I stammered between labored breaths.



"Things are about to change around here Marcus. Starting with you bullying me." She stated, staring me straight in the eye.


"This isn't funny Greta. . . Ok? I'll be the first one to admit that I was an asshole to you from time to time. . . .but you. . . You're going to kill me!" I whined, a little less manly than I intended.


There was a brief moment of hesitation, before she cranked on my tiny chest again. I let out a hollow groan and we both heard my bones pop as they made room for her imposing fingers.


"You're being over dramatic as usual. . . From what my orientation taught me, it would take a lot more than a little squeeze to actually KILL you. Although, they were pretty keen on letting you breathe." She explained to my red face.


A moment later, she released me from her death grip, allowing me to dangle freely from her finger tips. I immediately knew things weren't right as my body began to convulse on its own. Greta only rolled her eyes and placed me back down on her desk before she turned to her computer and began working.


"That's all for now Marcus, you can let yourself out and get back to work. I need to get those new designs to Bridgette before the end of the day. Even if it means a late night tonight. " she said, cheerfully.


"That's it?. . . She just gets to kick my ass and set me aside?" I thought to myself. "No fucking way!"


With the anger boiling inside me, I peeled myself off of her desk and stood to face her. She stopped typing and just stared at me when she noticed the dirty look I was giving her.


"Yes?" She asked, sounding slightly annoyed.


I gathered my thoughts and weighed my options. . . . And then.


I turned and walked towards the platform.


Behind me, I hear Greta chuckle. It sounded to be more out of amazement that her staredown actually worked.


As much as I knew I should just keep walking, the chuckle pissed me off enough to turn around.


"So that's it huh?" I asked coldly. "You almost break my fucking ribs, and all I get is a "get out of my face?"


She stopped laughing and brought her giant face close to mine.


"What was that Marcus?" She asked, somewhat condescending.


"I'm just saying. . . . Both you and Bridgette nearly end my life. . . Then act like it's no big deal. I put up with it to this point because the pay is good, but how the fuck is shrinking people common practice in here?! And it doesn't stop there. . . After people are shrunk. . .then they have to rely on the discretion of other emotion feeling humans, to decide whether or not they deserve to be pancaked by giant feet, or squeezed to death in somebody's hands? Fuck that! Some way. . . . Some way I'm putting an end to this. . . All of it. I'll dig until I find something." I said, my voice raising as I spoke.

I finished my passionate rant, and looked up. Greta's jaw was slack as she looked at me in amazement.

I turned to walk away, but as I did, it snapped her out of her trance. She reached out and shoved my shoulder, forcing me to spin and face her. She looked unsure of herself. She spoke in stammers.

"H-hey! You don't walk away from your boss like that Marcus!"

Marcus dawned his trademark smug smirk.

"You've been at that job for what. . 2 and a half business days? Don't act like that gives you any authority over me. . . We both know I can program circles around you. Bridgette only gave you that position to punish me. I promise you she is going to get hers, and if you don't watch yourself, you'll get yours." I said cooly, pointing her dead in her face like I was 100 feet tall.

Even towering over me, my words struck a serious nerve and she immediately retreated out of my face. She sat back in her chair with a worried, bothered look on her face. It felt like she wanted to fire back at me but her low confidence betrayed her and she only struggled.

"Get. . . Get out of my office!" She Tried to say with authority but it sounded weak.

I only laughed as I walked to the platform and made my way back to my desk. The truth was, I knew that there would most likely be consequences for that little outburst. The question was, could I capitalize on the inevitable?"

The rest of the day went by fairly uneventful. I did get most of the important projects finished, but without Greta's artistic flair, they weren't as great as they could have been. I'm sure I'll here about it from somebody but I had bigger fish to fry now. I needed to talk to Samantha.

I left the office, now full sized and got in my car. I entered the home address I had taken off the system for Samantha, and typed it into my GPS. 45 minutes later, I pulled up outside her apartment building. Her silver prius was parked outside. I walked up to the second floor and passed doors until I found her door number. With a moment of hesitation, I knocked on the door.


I heard footsteps, and a few seconds later, Samantha opened the door. We looked each other over for a second, her as surprised to see me, as I was surprised to see her in her street clothes and not her usual professional wear. She looked rougher than anyone I'd seen in a long time.

"Marcus. . . . What. . . What the hell are you doing at my house?" She asked, suspiciously.

"Samantha, I REALLY need to talk to you." I said, looking back over my shoulder.

The shorter woman gave me the look of death, shoving me back as she stepped out of her apartment and on to the walkway. She closed the door behind her.

"What is it?" She hissed.

"It's about Bridgette. About your "vacation". I said with air quotes.

Samantha's face went instantly pale, and I knew I was on to something. She glared at me for a moment, before she looked over my shoulder and around the apartment courtyard. Without a word, she turned and walked back into her apartment, leaving the door open. I followed her in, and closed the door.


She walked to her couch and plopped down. She still glared at me and I felt like maybe this wasn't a good idea. I sat down in a chair across from her. I didn't exactly know where to begin, so I just spoke.

"Samantha. . . . . Did Bridgette. . . You know. . .force this vacation time?

Samantha continued to glare, trying to hold her poker face, but after a few seconds, it broke and she began to weep.

"It wasn't my fault! It was just a tiny mistake." She whimpered.

"What are you talking about Samantha?" I inquired, not because I cared about her emotions, but because I needed all the dirt I could get my hands on.

"What do you even care anyway?! You've never said more than two kind words to me since you worked there?" She asked, accusingly.

"Samantha, I do care! I'm trying to put an end to a ridiculous system where employees work in fear of getting crushed by their supervisors!"

With this, I noticed a slight waver in the expression on her face. She sat just staring at the floor. Finally she spoke.

"Ok. . . . All of the last two weeks, I'd been helping Bridgette work on a deal with this company over in Seattle. It was going well and I was just finishing up with it, when I got distracted by family issues. I typed in some wrong values, and I won't bore you with the details, but it cost us a large sum of potential profit. The customer was overjoyed, but Bridgette wasn't. . . ."


"What did she do to you?" I asked, putting on my best sympathetic face.

Samantha's face grimaced at the recollection, but that was it. I pressed again.

"Samantha?"

She was quiet for another minute before she spoke.

"All day" she said quietly.

"All day?" I repeated, confused.

"All day. . . Under her desk. . . With her feet." She said coldly.

I sensed she wasn't done speaking so I remained silent.

"For a full 8 hours. . . She. . . Played with my body like it was some kind of toy. Whenever. . . . Whenever someone would come in she'd. . . Bury my face in her sole so they wouldn't hear me. I tried to scream. . . But either nobody heard me. . . Or they weren't trying to hear me." Her eyes never left the spot in front of her own bare feet.

"So what, you lost her money and she took out her anger on you?" I asked, just to sum it up.

"No. Not exactly. . "

"Then what?" I pushed her for the big picture.

"A supervisor can't just decide they want to crush an employee. . . There has to be a referral from an HR rep for disciplinary action. If they touch you without that. . . . It could be grounds for termination.

That was huge information. It would definitely come in handy.

"So she can't just crush us for no reason huh? Have you ever seen her break that rule?" I inquired to Bridgette's right hand woman.

She was quiet.

"I think you better go now." She stated finally, standing up and walking towards the door.

I didn't want to push my luck as I already had what I needed so I followed her to the door. When I was outside I turned to face her. I was about to say goodbye when she stepped up to be with her chest out, bumping into me and forcing me to take a step back. Even though I was 2 inches taller than her, my heart began to race.

"Listen Marcus. . . . I don't know what you're up to, and I don't WANT to know. I'm just giving you this as a fair warning. If Bridgette somehow finds out I told you anything. . . . . I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do. . . . They'll be scraping you off of my office chair with a spatula." She finished her sentence and slammed the door in my face.

"I love you too Samantha!" I called loud enough for her to hear me before I returned to my car and headed for home.


"For a full 8 hours. . . She. . . Played with my body like it was some kind of toy."

I played back the recording time and time again as I contemplated what I was going to do next. With that little visit, I had an idea of the limitations of the supervisors, but I needed a full understanding. I waited patiently until I was sure Bridgette had gone home, before I logged into my employee account.

I went directly for Bridgette's employee file, but to my dismay, it wasn't there. I tried every trick I knew, but I couldn't find it. I wasn't exactly sure what she had to hide, but I would find out, and I would burn her down with it.

Shifting gears, I instead looked up the supervisors code of conduct. It was page after pdf page of worthless information but finally I found what I wanted. My confidence began to build as I armed myself with knowledge. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

As if on cue, my phone went off, signalling a text. Greta.

[I need to see you in my office, first thing tomorrow.]

I only chuckled. I knew what it was about but at this point I didn't care. My plan was already underway. I fell asleep playing through it in my head.



The next morning I made sure to get to work extra early just so I could be ready. I stood in the dark and watched other tiny employees file in and begin their day. If only they knew the shit storm I was preparing to unleash soon enough.

Another 20 minutes passed before I heard the voice I was waiting for. A second later, Greta appeared in the doorway and flipped on the light. I watched the smile on her face as she looked over her office. I could tell it was a dream come true for her and brought her real joy. . . Until she spotted me standing on her desk, hands in my pockets and smug look on my face.

Her cheery smile disappeared and a scowl replaced it. I waited intently as she looked outside her door to make sure nobody was looking, before she closed the door and the blinds that shielded the clear glass wall.

When she finished sealing me in, she turned and stomped towards me, her flip flops making that annoying slap on her bare feet. Behind me, some spare change she had in a coffee mug, jingled with every heavy footstep. That did nothing for my confidence, but I kept my cool as she approached.


The moment of truth arrived as she reached out to grab me. I knew she had spent all night thinking about what I had said to her, and that she had built up enough confidence to actually crush me, just about the time she texted me. Now, with me in her office, she intended to inflict whatever harm she had planned last night.

When she was near enough, she reached for me. Her fingers were mere inches away from clutching me and no doubt coiling in until she squeezed whatever desired effect she had in mind from me, before I spoke.

"Um, Greta? You don't happen to have the referral handy for whatever by the book beat down you're about to put on me do you?" I asked casually.

Just as I expected, the giantess stopped dead in her tracks, her hand frozen in place and shock on her face.

Utter hatred flashed in her eyes as she realized I knew the rules to the game now. I could read the conflict on her face as she fought back the urge to just throw the book out the window and snuff out the 6 inch manifestation of her torment with swift ease.


I just gave her a blank stare as she battle the desire to smash me. Finally. . . She crumbled. I didn't even flinch as she raised her fist, and pounded it on to her desk right beside me. It was so close I could feel the wind from it, but remained calm. She brought her face in to examine for fear, but found none. Her shoulders slumped as she stood straight, and walked around her desk to sit down.

"Is that all you needed this morning Greta?" I asked, not bothering to hide my smug tone.

"I'm going to get that referral Marcus!" She blurted out. "And when I do. . . . I'm gonna stomp you into the floor under these flip flops you hate so much!"


Bingo. . . I had her.

The rest of the day. . . . And pretty much the week, went exactly as I thought it would. In retaliation, Greta began to pile every single project that she muster on me. She knew she couldn't bury me under her feet just yet, so her plan was to bury me in work, in the hopes that I would make a mistake worthy of catching a stomping.


She could shove that plan right up her-



A-anyway. ...


What Greta didn't account for, is that she had only ever seen me work at half capacity. I was a slacker by choice, but I didn't graduate top of my class for no reason. Now. . . Now was my time to shine and make her look even worse, so I worked as hard as I could and by the end of the week, I had knocked out every single project she put on me.


I knew I had done a solid job when I walked past Greta's office and she only offered a scowl as I passed.


God was she pissed off.

I loved it.



It felt good to be leaving the office and actually being able to enjoy my weekend. By that I mean actually being conscious for it.


Although I had no more work to do that was office related, I still had things to get done. That's why at 11:35 that night, I went to meet a friend at my favorite quiet bar. I knew that come Monday morning, things were going to change.



And change they did. I pulled up to the office Monday morning to a slew of reporters outside the building. I knew that my friend had done his work. Standing in front of the main entrance was Bridgette, red faced and flustered as endless questions about the crooked inner workings of the company.


I guess I hadn't really noticed before but yeah. . . . She was tall. She looked like the queen bee, in the company of all the little reporters. She stammered and made excuses as best she could, but it was a losing battle. I tried not to stare for too long, as any eye contact with the Amazon leader would definitely end in pain for me. I scurried to the back entrance and was surprised to see the room outside of the shrinking device was full of employees. I had to act surprised, so I found Monte and played the part.

"What the hell is going on man? It's crazy out there!" I asked, shock and awe on my face.

"Nobody knows for sure, and we're not supposed to talk to any outside sources, but I guess some newspaper found out about the shrinking device. I guess the supervisors were using their size to abuse employees into doing what they want."

"No shit?!" I asked.

"Yeah. It's pretty unbelievable." He answered back, shaking his head. "Either way, management decided it was a bad idea to send us back into the office at small size, so here we are. Waiting to see what becomes of everything now."

"Hmm. " I said thoughtfully.

The lobby was bubbling with talk of the scandal, and 40 minutes later, a woman I'd never seen before came to speak to us. She told us that the office would be closed until they could sort everything out, and get all the facts. To our relief, she said that we would still receive our paychecks up until they had the situation handled the internal investigation. . . . Beautiful.




A month had passed since I dropped the hammer on it all. In that time, there was no real information on what was going on or who was in the cross hairs. Finally I awoke to a new company e-mail.

It outlined that work would begin again the following Monday. It had taken time to reconstruct full sized offices as the shrinking machine had been removed in the investigation. It also said that all supervisors were being replaced after the findings. . . Lovely.


To my surprise, that wasn't the only messege I received that day.

[Can you meet me for a follow up interview?]


(Sure. I can meet you at the same place)

[No. I was thinking my apartment this time. Easier for me to take longer notes and record quotes.]

I was skeptical of this, as we agreed to never meet anywhere else, but I agreed none the less, and I was sent the address.


11:35p.m

I knocked on the door of apartment #26. It was silent, but a moment later the door opened and Andrew, the reporter opened the door. He looked nervous as he glanced up and down the hallway, making sure I wasn't followed. Seeing no one, he let me in.

"Uh.... just take a seat on the couch. I'll be right there." He said, as he walked in to a room in the back of his apartment. It was quiet for a long moment, almost too quiet before it happened.


Like something out of a movie, all of a sudden, 3 men in black burst out of random rooms in his place. They were on me before I could make a move and two of them grabbed my arms. The 3rd held a rifle in his hands. Behind them, Andrew emerged, with his hands ziptied together.

"I'm so sorry man! They made me do it!" He cried as I struggled against my captors.

I was about to speak, when the man with the gun, turned the butt of the rifle and smacked me in the temple. I was out cold.


I awoke several times on the way to wherever we were headed. I had a hood over my head, but the space around me, told me I was in the back of a van. That was all I could gather before I passed out again.


The next time I came to, I was greeted with sunshine and a sight I wasn't expecting. Being kidnapped, the scenario of being tied to a chair in a dark room with a hanging light was what I expected. What I got was something completely different.

First of all, I was shrunk. It wasn't a new experience so I didn't waste any time thinking about it, but I could tell from the items around me, that I was smaller than usual.

Second, this wasn't an office. It was definitely somebodies home. A sun room or something. It had Windows covering most of the available wall space, and various types of plants were everywhere.

Third, and most importantly, there was a giant, middle aged woman observing me, with a slight smile. My heart began to pound. She hadn't moved at all, but something about her made me uneasy. It wasn't anything in particular about her though.

Although she was older, I'd say no younger than 45, she was drop dead gorgeous. Her face felt so familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. She had shoulder length blonde hair, wavy but neat. Her eyes, that never left me, were an icy blue. It felt like they could bore a hole in me.

My eyes traveled down past her pale face, to her ample. . . .ample chest. She wore a tight, low cut v neck short sleeve shirt, which looked to be struggling to contain her. I was mesmerized by her, not aware of how hard I was actually staring, but she seemed content to let me do just that.

It wasn't until I felt my head throbbing that I snapped out of my breast induced stupor.

"Well hello there." She greeted me. Her voice was no less sultry than I expected it to be. I couldn't explain it, but the sound of it made me weak and I dropped to my knees.

She chuckled expectantly, as if there was no other possible reaction I could have had. She had a weight about her. Like I couldn't resist her, even if I was full size. Like she was in charge, no matter who else was in the room and it would be unwise to challenge her.

"Well. . . Say something. I know you can speak. . . You say all sorts of little things. "

I wasn't exactly sure what she actually knew, so I played my cards close to my chest. I climbed to my feet and faced her down.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Where am I?" I asked, rudely.

Again she chuckled and it sent a shiver down my spine. Like I was in the lair of a dragon.

"You're a ballsy little one. . . I like that." She answered, an amused look on her face.

"What's this about!? Why did you kidnap me?" I demanded.

I jumped as she shifted slightly from her seated position. For the first time, I looked at her legs. She wore black leggings and her legs were crossed. Her feet were bare and she had black toe nail polish. Again I zoned out as she uncrossed and crossed her legs.

"I am sorry about that. . . The boys can be a little rough sometimes. I stitched your cut myself by the way. " she said, nodding in the general direction of my cut.

"Anyway" she continued, " I brought you here just to have a little. . . Chat." She finished, thoughtfully.

"Huh. . If you only want to "have a little chat" I said, mocking her, " Then why go through the trouble of fucking kidnapping me AND shrinking me on top of that? You're with the company aren't you? That would explain the the shrinking anyway. " I guessed, and as I studied her face, I saw her eyes narrow for the briefest of moments, confirming my deduction.

"That's what I thought." I said smugly.

Her expression never changed from her slight smile as she addressed me.

"You're kind of a mouthy little shit, aren't you? Clever. . . But mouthy. I may have to rework the attitude adjustment program for the future.


I digested that statement immediately and the implications it had behind it. The way she made it seem, SHE was the brain behind the shrinking device and the whole management structure of the company. I decided to feel her out and learn more.

"Attitude adjustment program?" I asked, acting confused. "I guess I don't know what you're talking about."

The slight smile changed to just a straight face.

"You can cut the shit just about anytime little man. Believe me, you wouldn't be here if you didn't know what I was talking about." She said, trying to keep her cool.

"You still haven't told me WHY I'm here! . . Or who you are, for that matter." I spat back before I had time to think it through. I was rewarded with the first bit of motion I had seen from her thus far.

In the blink of an eye, her long, black tipped fingers shot up and delivered a brutal flick to my tiny chest. I was thrown 20 feet back onto her end table, landing hard and skidding to a halt. I clutched my chest and coughed uncontrollably as her hand withdrew.

"You watch your tone, bug!" She said, her voice full of passion.

She just glared at me as I layed sprawled out. After a moment, my coughing must have annoyed her because her fingers approached me again, this time snatching me up between her thumb and forefinger like I weighed nothing. She brought me to her face, her eyes speaking volumes as to how insignificant I was to her.

"So you want to know why you're here huh?" She asked, giving her wrist a flick, and ragdolling my 3 inch body in the process.

"I won't waste any more time with this little game you're playing. I know exactly who you are, and I know exactly what you did. But let me tell you where you went wrong." She said, again her passion showing. I couldn't tell if she was actually getting angry or not.

"Here's a little insider information for you. . . If you plan to take down anyone. . . Your enemies, corruption, it doesn't matter. . . If you plan to take them down. . . Always make sure to take down the biggest fish in the pond." She finished, and her teeth bared in a sinister grin.

"I hate to tell you this lady, but I DID take down the biggest fish in the pond! They fired all the management and their starting fresh!" I said, brimming confidence, but her reaction was nothing like I expected.

The blonde giantess let out a deep belly laugh as she heard my bold statement. It lasted for several seconds before she spoke.

"Now that's a good one! While I admit that you have spunk young man, you were nowhere NEAR the top of the food chain with your little stunt. . . . What you DID do, is take down the DAUGHTER of the biggest fish in the pond." She informed me. She drank in my shock as she let me dangle in front of her face.

"Y-You mean. . You're-"

"That's right. . . . I'm Bridgette's mother."

Fuck. . . This was a development I hadn't foreseen. That I COULDN'T have foreseen. My body went into overload as it tried to fathom my current situation.

"The name's Claire." She told me a moment later.

At that point, I did the only thing I could do. . . Started talking.

"What. . . What do you want from me?!" I asked, my voice barely holding back my fear.

"Well. . . . Unfortunately for you Marcus. . . Although there was no harm done, and firing Bridgette was just for show to keep the media from sniffing  around any further. . . . I just can't allow some little dipshit, computer nerd. . . To get away with disrespecting my daughter like that. " Claire explained to me, her expression cold again.

I was just about to speak, when she snapped her wrist upward, tossing me into the air. I floated for a second before she swiped her open hand across me, simultaneously trapping me from head to toe in her big fist.

My brain was already scrambled, when she began to squeeze. The walls started closing in on me and my cries were muffled in her feminine fingers as they took up the available space around me and then some. I began to hear the tell tale signs of a crush. . . Joints popping and flexing.

"You see Marcus, the problem with little weasels. . . Poking their noses where they don't belong is. . . . Eventually someone bigger. . ." She said, ratcheting up her grip on me, "stronger". . . Beyond my comprehension, her grip got even tighter.

At this point, I was aware that my body had been pushed far beyond the limit of what it should have been able to handle without becoming a puddle of mush in her hand. The thoughts and possibilities of how this was happening tried to get to the forefront of my mind, but were promptly squeezed out as, impossibly. . . Somehow. . . . Her grip got even tighter!

"And more ruthless, comes around and catches them underfoot." She finished, but didn't relent on the pressure. The last thing I heard, was a purr of satisfaction from her as she admired me in her fist before I blacked out.

Much like when her daughter had worked me over a month and a half ago, I woke up in a different place then I last remembered. I could tell I was back on the end table, my vision facing Claire. She was casually reading a book and every now and then, she would take a sip of wine from a glass on my right.


I tried to stand and when I did, my heart dropped. I. . . I had no control over my limbs. My brain was screaming at my body to stand, but it did nothing. My eyes went wide as the realization that I was paralyzed sunk in.


At that moment, Bridgette's mom noticed I was awake. I couldn't move my limbs, but my body managed to tremble under the gaze of her blue eyes.


"Oh, welcome back Marcus!" She greeted me. "I didn't see you were awake there." She finished, setting down her glass of wine.


Claire just looked at me like I was an old memory. Finally she spoke what was on her mind.


"You know. . . . It's been sooo long since I had to come and rescue my baby. Believe it or not. . .She wasn't always as tall and strong as she is now." She said, obviously reminiscing on the past in her head. I Flinched as she reached for me, plucking me up and cradling me in her palm.


"When she was younger, she was the shortest kid in her class. All of those bratty little boys teased her non-stop. She would come home from the playground down the street, just bawling! "


Claire stroked my back with her thumb, but somehow the gesture fell short of comforting. It felt more like she was playing with her food, then trying to make me feel any better.


"Every single time she would cry, I would storm down there and lay down the law. Those little shits KNEW, when I stomped on to the playground it was game over. They would scatter like cockroaches. It didn't matter if it was you who made her cry or not. If I got my hands on you, your little ass was getting paddled."


A few seconds later, I found my voice and I knew I had to talk my way out of this because my body wasn't a player in the game right now.


"C-Claire! Listen. . . . I'm sorry. . . I'm so sorry. It will never happen again! I swear to god!" I pleaded.


I could tell by her expression, she was unmoved. She only chuckled.

"You sound. . . Exactly like those little playground brats! But you know what? They never meant it. . . Sure, they would lay off her for a week, but inevitably. . . They would always go back in on her.

"What. . . What did you do about it? " I asked, timidly trying to buy time. I didn't know for what, but as long as she was talking, she wasn't crushing me.

"I let her figure it out on her own. The women in my family hit their growth spurts early, so I knew it wouldn't be long before she was big enough to handle herself. Soon enough, she was head and shoulders taller than every one of them, and she made them pay. They quickly learned to make themselves scarce when she showed up, or risk becoming her plaything. Within a few months, she was the queen of the playground. . . "

As she spoke, I suddenly felt control of arms and legs come back to me. I knew it was now or never. I sprang to life, and as expected she jumped in surprise. I saw my opening and jumped from her palm to her thigh before leaping to the couch cushion below.

"Oh you greasy little fuck!" She shouted as she fumbled and lost control of me.

I ran as fast as I could towards the other end, but with our size difference, it wasn't more than a couple seconds before she was on top of me. She made me pay immediately.

As I ran, I was suddenly struck from behind by what felt like a pick-up truck. Her palm smashed me into the cushion like a giant, solid fly swatter. I was already rocked, but she followed up by grinding her palm down on me, causing my newly functioning limbs to be drug to and fro like a rag doll.

From there, I felt her thick fingers borough under my chest as she wrapped me in her oh so familiar fist. She hoisted me up, my head slumping in defeat as I knew she wouldn't be giving another window to escape.

"You know what the problem is with your generation Marcus?" She asked as she maneuvered me effortlessly so that my upper body was between her thumb and first two fingers on her left hand and my legs the same way in her right.

I wanted to roll my eyes at the question. If you're going to be a giant, dominating, bitch. . . Be a giant, dominating, bitch. Don't lecture me while you're at it.

"You're problem is. . . . Every last one of you little bastards THINKS you have big balls. . . . .but when it comes right down to it, none of you have the SPINE TO BACK IT UP!" As she said this, her hands lurched to life, bending my very REAL spine backwards, threatening to snap me in half.

To my relief, she eased up for a brief moment. . . .only to crank me back even further. From what I could see of her face, she was enjoying herself as she worked on breaking me in half. Claire had a slight smirk as she listened to my cries and groans.

I'm not sure if she had done this to some unfortunate soul before, but she seemed to know exactly how far to bend me, before she would snap me in two. It was on the 3rd crank, that the tears started involuntarily flow from me. I didn't know how I had survived the squeezing she had put on me earlier, but at this rate I wasn't going to live much longer. I had to get her to change to something more survivable. The next time she eased up, I took a shot in the dark.

"You fucking. . ." I stammered as my breath hitched in my chest. "You giant fucking BITCH!" I screamed at her.

As planned, her fingers released my legs, and I was now dangling in front of her beautiful, angry face.

"What did you just say to me?" She asked, a little quieter and more calm than I was comfortable with.

I tried to speak again, but my breathing was so irregular at this point that I couldn't say a word. This seemed to please her, so she taunted me. I was swung around to her ear.

"Go ahead" she goaded, "Why don't you repeat yourself? " she asked, tapping on her earlobe with her free hand.

"Yo-

The split second I croaked, I was hurtled through the air. The last thing I saw was her knee rising to meet me, and I was sure my body was about to be busted into a million pieces.



[Again Claire blacked me out. As fucked up as it sounds, I was used to it by now. I was a tiny man in the clutches of a vengeful giantess. What chance did I really have? I didn't know how long she intended to fuck with me. Until I broke down and begged? Until she killed me? I really didn't want to find out. At this point, I wanted to stay unconscious. I couldn't be sure that she wasn't still actively busting my body for fun outside of my mental shell.

Inevitably, I did come back to the world of the living. I wish I hadn't. My face was swollen to the point where I could barely see. All my ribs felt like they were broken and again my limbs were immobile. I didn't know if she did this intentionally, but I was facing her again.

This time, Claire had on what looked like reading glasses. She was glancing back and forth between me and an iPad, typing away. She noticed I was awake, but said nothing. She only smirked and continued to type. I guess she was content to leave me right where I was.

I was curious to know what she was working on, and it only got worse as she used the tip of her stylus to gently roll me from my side, to my back with a flop. I winced in pain as Claire began to feel up and down my ribs with her finger tips. I gathered that she was taking stock of what she had broken. Her fingers left me and I heard her tap gently on the iPad. As if she could hear my thoughts, she spoke to me.

"I know you're probably wondering what I'm doing, right? Well, that answer is simple and complex at the same time. Simply put, when you arrived here, you were subjected to an experimental shrinking process. The one at the office that you're used to, had a minimal limit of 6 inches and was able to increase your durability by 200 percent based on size. While that was revolutionary in it's day, we've since moved past that."

Without warning, her fingers returned, this time to my head. She gently rolled it to the left, and I could see that she had a small flashlight that she was shining in my swollen eyes.

"The machine we used on you now. . . .it has the capability to shrink you down to less than an inch tall, but I figured "What would be the fun in that?" As durable as you become. . . Which is 350% mind you, your little bout with my fist would have been enough to demolish you at that size."

She released my head, and it flopped to the side, lifelessly.

"The one thing we didn't plan on, is why you're conscious, but have no control over your limbs right now. . . . Granted, that knee smash may have been a little much, but I guaranty you won't mouth off again."


Next, she grasped my left arm, and held it up. I watched as she brandished what looked like a tiny needle. I tried to will my hand to move, but it wouldn't respond. I was forced to witness her prick my hand. It hurt like a motherfucker and I jerked my hand away. . .

"Hmm." She commented "You can move that arm again?"

I said nothing, but I flexed my hand open and closed.

"That's curious."

She noted it in her iPad, before I saw her hand pass in front of me and felt her fingers grab my shirt by the front. At that moment, I was scared into speaking.

"Please Claire!" I whined pathetically. "Please no more! I've learned my lesson and I'm so sorry! Sorry for everything! Exposing your business, getting your daughter fired, everything!



"Awww, it's soo cute when you beg!" She cooed with a motherly tone that could have made the most manly men embarrassed. " But the truth is. . . I don't blame you."


As she spoke, she lifted me again, only not to her face this time. I began to hitch again as she lofted me over her awe inspiring cleavage.



"No! No, no, no!" I screamed as she lowered me into the abyss. With my limbs not working, I was unable to struggle and she began to stuff my legs with no opposition.


"Honestly Marcus, I really thought I had taught Bridgette better than that, so this was eye opening for both of us."



She was sure to trap my arms at my sides as she continued to wedge me in. I felt like I was drowning in quicksand as she finished squashing me up to my shoulders. Immediately the heavy weight of her fat tits began to squeeze in on me. The hitch in my breathing didn't help as they compressed my lungs just by being.


"The first thing she needs to understand is how to dominate those around her. . . . "


Without warning, the soft walls around me closed in. Claire had grabbed her breasts with her hands, and jammed them together, completely ravaging me. With their heft, the forces acting on me were mind blowing. I tried to scream as the middle of her boobs squished downward pulling my legs down. While at the same time, the top of her breasts rose, taking my upper half with it.


I was effectively stretched out and squeezed at the same time. The human body wasn't meant to move in as many dimensions as I was being subjected to right now. Claire held me in hell, unable to breathe and unable to move for what felt like an eternity before she let her tits hang naturally again. Even the mere act of letting them bounce back into shape, was rewarded with the audible crunch of my bones.


"Oohh, that was a good one!" Claire laughed upon hearing it.


I only whimpered in response. The time for words was over. She was going to have her way with me until I either died, or until some outside force intervened.



"Ok. . .as I was saying! If you are going to be the boss, especially a female boss, you need to learn to dominate everyone around you. Physically. . . That is easy. . . Being our size never hurts, but I've seen petite little things, completely overwhelm some "impressive men". I was under the impression that she had learned that lesson from her days on the playground. . . . I couldn't tell you how many calls I got from parents. "Oh, Bridgette crushed my son's glasses" or "Bridgette body slammed Jimmy!" It was ALL the time. To tell you the truth, I had to hire a babysitter, even when Bridgette was old enough to do it, because she would demolish her little brother for anything and everything whenever I turned my back. That girl wore me out, making me patch Jordan up all the time."


She laughed as she recalled this. The jiggle of her chest worked to strain my ribs further. She earned more groans from me.


"Oh poor baby! You're just soo worn out aren't you!" She baby talked me. "I'm really not sure how Bridg wasn't able to crush your spirit, honestly. I mean. . . You're mouthy sure, but at the end of the day, you're just some string bean little twerp. It should have been nothing! When you do it right, you flatten your subordinates until there is no way they can even contemplate rebellion. That was the REAL purpose of the shrinking machine, but I guess she missed that lesson.



"I. . . I swear I won't rebel. . . Just no more!. . .no more. . . No more!" I repeated like a broken record.


"Oh shut up!" She laughed, and I felt her thumb on the top of my head. My pathetic cries were smothered out when she squashed my head down into her fleshy canyon. Only a tuft of my hair, would alert anyone to my insignificant presence in her massive bosom.


From below, I felt the familiar churn of her boobs being squished again. With what air I had, i began to scream at the top of my lungs as Claire started to rub her heavy breasts in slow, bone grinding circles. I felt Claire's body pitch, as she leaned back against the couch. Again my body was tossed and mulched like a rag in the wind. Barely an inconvenience for the goddess to squash.



There was a moment of reprieve, but for what I didn't know. Outside of my prison, Claire had taken her top off, and was now bare chested. It drove home how insignificant I was, that this giantess could keep me from escaping, with the weight of her breasts alone. Granted, it helped that I had no use of my limbs, but the force I was being subjected to, told me that nothing would change, even if I did. She had me, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.


With me secured and her hands free, Claire was able to make use of my tiny screams. Her long fingers began to knead and pinch her fat nipples, each one about half the size of my pathetic body. My pleas for freedom drove her lust to greater and greater heights. Dominating anyone was a turn on for her. Dominating the man who had wronged her daughter and threatened her livelihood was next level.


It wasn't long before I was out of oxygen and my struggling slowed. I was far too buried to hear her, but Claire let out an aggravated grunt. I felt movement above me, and a second later my head was pulled out of the darkness by my hair.


She looked flustered now as I sucked in air like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't see her hands, but the small moans and the moments of her body told me she was still priming herself as we spoke.


"Ok Marcus, you little shit. . . You're going back in now, and I want you to scream and fight for me! Finish me off!. . Understand?" She commanded, her tone was less sultry and more dominant than it was before.


Despite my current predicament, I decided I wasn't going to give Claire the satisfaction of cumming to my struggles. I knew I couldn't prevent her from stuffing me back between those heavy tits, but I could remain perfectly still and quiet so I wouldn't add to her stimulation.

Inevitably, a moment later I felt her thumb on my head, and I took a deep breath before she smooshed me back down. Once in, I focused solely on trying to breathe. Her perfumed flesh was all around me, working into my brain and urging me to fight. . . As much as my lifeless limbs would allow, but I resisted.

My inactivity must have pissed her off, because a few seconds later I felt her boobs loosen their hold on me, flowing outward like the water before a tsunami. Knowing what was coming, I mentally braced my defenseless body. I'm not sure if it was intentional or not, but Claire seemed to be waiting an eternity before crushing me. On cue, as soon as I relaxed my muscles, her big breasts swarmed back in on me.

The cruel goddess was rewarded for her patience with a healthy crunch, courtesy of my ribs,followed by the vibrations of me screaming my head off from the pain, but she didn't stop there. Her tits continued in and up, exposing my battered little face. Claire's eyes met with mine as she held me in her death grip. The upward push of her squeeze had captured my chest in the area of most pressure, obliterating my already busted ribs. My screams had turned into a silent mouth gape and it only seemed to drive her on.


It only took one arm to cradle her rack, and the other was busy further south. She fixated on my every darkening face, her arousal heightening with every shade I took on until I was dark purple and on the verge of a knock out. I prepared to sleep again, when suddenly the wave of bone crushing pressure was swept out to sea again. I was only allotted a few sharp breaths, each one reminding me of the sorry condition my body was in. I'd taken a gamble trying to blow the whistle on corporate corruption and found out just exactly how big, heavy, and dominating the system really was.



By this time, Claire had had enough of my presence. It was time to put herself over the edge, and me down for the count. With one swift motion, she jammed her tits together one last time. Every rib that wasn't cracked before. . . Was now. I'm not ashamed to say that I blacked out immediately. I never heard or felt Claire's earth shattering climax, I didn't feel her sponge her boob sweat off of me in the sink, and I never saw her dump me into the houses personal holding cell.

When I phased back into reality, I was laying in a heap on a carpet floor. I fought to not pass right back out as my current position was straining my crushed ribs. I let out a pained scream and rolled over on to my back. The pain lowered only a notch but it WAS better so that is where I stayed for the next 4 hours, with my eyes closed, just contemplating my life.


I was presumably still 3 inches tall. I was being held by an organization capable of not only orchestrating kidnappings, but also shrinking people and who knew what else. The last and biggest problem was, I hadn't told anyone where I was going, so there would be no where to start looking. As professional as these people were, I imagine they already scrapped my car, so there would be no lead for anyone. I was royally fucked.



As I layed there, nursing my battered body, I heard a noise above me. I wasn't about to get up and look to see what was going on, but for the first time I looked up and noticed that the ceiling wasn't a ceiling at all. It was a clear cover, and far far above, I could see the white ceiling of the actual room. Suddenly, seemingly from nowhere, the giant face of an African American woman appeared above me. I flinched, sending a twinge of pain through my chest.

I expected she was there to grab me, but I didn't expect was what happened next. I heard things all around the room, before a loud hissing sound began. Immediately I noticed a light blue smoke begin to fill the room.

"Fuck!" I yelled, when I realized I was being poisoned.

Finding the strength to stand, I took in my surroundings for the first time. I was in a clean looking, hyper modern apartment, only I could tell it was made to the scale of 6 inch people. I really didn't have time to marvel it at all though, as the smoke was closing in on me. Thinking fast, I tried to limp down the hall to my left, and opened the first door on my right. To my surprise, the room was already clouded, and opening the door, depressurized it into my face. Before I could turn away, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The last thing I saw was the smoke clear, and the glass cover being lifted.




Pain. More pain than I had felt thus far. I was getting used to screaming at the top of my lungs by now. I opened my eyes and was blinded by a white light. My hands shot to whatever was actively pressing on my ribs and hit something solid. I lifted my head and looked to see that first of all, I was completely naked. My body was completely covered in some type of green gel. The shock of that alone was enough, but to top it off, giant gloved fingers were prodding and rubbing the gel into my skin.


Instantly, I tried to roll over and get away from the pain. A voice from above stopped me.

"That wouldn't be wise, little man. . ." The feminine voice said. The light was dimmed by the giant head of the woman I saw before. Her head seemed impossibly huge, before I realized I was seeing the outline of her loose curled afro.

Her fingers pushed me back on to the table and I allowed it for the moment.

"Claire really did a number on you." She Commented, and I heard genuine pity in her voice, something I hadn't heard since I started this whole adventure.

"As if you couldn't feel it already, but every one of your ribs are either broken or fractured. You're honestly lucky they didn't piece any organs.

"Can. . . Can you get me out of here?" I stammered, just cutting right to the chase. I honestly thought I had a chance for a split second as she looked me over, but she immediately squashed my hope.

"Uhh. . As much as I would love to. . . It isn't possible. Not only is what we're doing here for the greater good, I'm afraid if I helped you I would likely find myself in the same situation as you." She answered honestly. I really couldn't blame her. We were dealing with people who had seemingly unlimited resources and apparently no conscious. It was literally no stretch at all to believe they would turn on one of their own in a heartbeat.

"Well can you at least answer my questions?" I asked calmly, setting her up.

"To the best of my authority, yes" she answered robotically. I could tell she was going to turn out to be just another corporate asshole.

"Where the fuck am i?"

"The head compound" she answered immediately as she reached for a tool that looked like a stylus but connected with a thick cord, leading to a machine in the distance. I watched the tip of it light up, and she brought it to my chest. Instantly, all the gel began to heat up. I had to admit that it felt pretty good and it soothed a very minute amount of pain from my body.

"The head compound? What the fuck does that even mean? What city? What country?" I asked rudely.

She began to move the stylus over my body, and everywhere it went, the pain or soreness began to ease.

"That is all you need to know Marcus."

"No! That's bullshit! I think you owe me a little more than that." I argued back.

"You would be wise to watch your tone. It would have been easier and cheaper just to put a bullet in your brain, or even save the bullet and just stomp you out. You are a prisoner, not a guest. Don't forget that." She said, with not a change of tone in her voice. She continued working on my body.


"Well can you at least tell me what this shit is that you covered me in? "



"Yes. . . It's a special compound. It has healing properties when applied with heat. Given enough time it has the potential to heal your ribs." She explained.


"How much time?" I spat at her. "You fucking people have the technology to shrink and grow people at will, and you can't instantly fix a broken bone?"


I could tell this got under her skin.


"Look, I don't actually even need to be helping you. Claire just requested you patched up for your next meeting. I'm going above and beyond just because I have pride in my job. Yes, there is a new experimental compound that can change the body so that it heals faster and increases strength and durability, but the scientist working on it, hasn't tested it on humans. So until then, you're just going to have to deal with it."


"What do you mean "patched up for my next meeting?" I demanded.

This time, she didn't answer and only let out an annoyed sigh as she kept working. I didn't push my luck and just layed back and enjoyed the mild heat she was putting into my body. Ever so often, she would look at a thermal and x-ray image of my body and make adjustments to the machine. I decided to just let it ride, and closed my eyes. In spite of how many times I had been knocked out in the last day, I was still tired, so I took this opportunity to get some sleep.

The female scientist, whose name I learned was Nea, placed me back in the holding cell/apartment when she was finished with me. I was thankful that she placed me on the couch instead of just dumping me on the floor like Claire. Without the threat of the blue gas knocking me out, and my body almost fully repaired, I was able to take in my surroundings. There was a t.v. in front of me, and a good sized kitchen to my left. I walked through it, and was surprised to see that it was full of actual miniaturized silverware. My eyes got big as I saw it on the counter top. . . A butcher block full of knives. Overall, the place really didn't look like it was designed for prisoners.

Walking down the hall, I again entered the room from before. It turned out to be a gender neutral bedroom with a queen size bed and decent sized closet. I opened the closet door and noticed that there were both men and women's clothes. Unfortunately for me, there were designed for someone twice my scale, so I was stuck wearing the white hospital style pants and shirt that Nea had given me after my healing.

I continued to explore the other 4 rooms. 3 more bedrooms and one for laundry. Not a bad little set up under better circumstances. I roamed back into the main room and decided to try the t.v.

To my surprise, it actually turned on. A random sports channel appeared on the scream. Soccer with teams I didn't recognize were playing and I quickly changed the channel. Finally I found what I was looking for.

[The Seattle news]

Fuck yeah. . . . .I knew where I was.



It wasn't much of an advantage but I had to take what I could get. The good news was, it was only 2 days after I had been taken. It meant nobody was probably looking for me yet, but it made me feel a little better.


I left the t.v. on in the background as I began to look closer at my surroundings. I noticed the walls had good sized square panels in every room. I imagine that's where that blue knock out gas came from. I wasn't sure if I could use that to my advantage, but it was good to know. A half hour later, I finished my search for a way out. Having found nothing, I climbed up on the oversized couch and began to watch t.v.


I had just gotten comfortable, when I hear the sound of tapping on the dome cover above me. My head snapped up just in time to see another giant face I didn't recognize. This time, it wasn't a scientist or some sadistic milf, but instead, a young blonde haired girl was smiling down on me.


The thing was, it wasn't an innocent, cute smile. I couldn't explain it but there was something fucked up about the look in her eye. A second later, the glass dome was lifted and set aside. I began to panic and stood up. Unconsciously, I retreated from her gaze, easing away towards the kitchen.


I went into full stress mode as I saw the girls hand enter the room. She had chipped orange finger nails and her 3rd finger had a bandaid on it. I bailed behind the counter in the kitchen, crouching so that she didn't have a direct line of sight on me.


Whatever this holding cell was located on, was too big to have an easy access view from directly above. She would have to walk all the way around to actually see what I was doing.


"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" She called in unsettling sing song voice.


The thing that made it worse, was that I couldn't actually see her either. My heart skipped a beat as I heard a creaking on the floorboards in the living room. A moment later, I nearly shit my pants as I saw her first two fingers come walking into the kitchen.


She was fucking with me.


I readied myself, gripping the comically large butcher knife I had grabbed from the block. Holding my breath, I prepared to strike.



"OOWWW! WHAT THE HECK!" the girl screeched, withdrawing her hand.


There were massive droplets of blood on the kitchen floor where I had slashed at her pointer finger. I could hear her making a scene somewhere outside of my confines, but I used the time to make a move.



Peeking over the counter, I didn't see her immediately. Taking a chance, I dashed out from behind, and sprinted around the living room corner to the hallway. Thinking fast, I ran into the first bedroom on the left. I flung the closet door open and jumped inside. Clutching the knife to my chest, I waited for her to do something.


I felt the tremors as the girl stomped angrily around the cell to where she could see the kitchen.


"Ughh! Where'd you go!" She demanded, loud enough that I could hear her through the walls.


That was the last I heard from her, but I still remained in the closet for what seemed like hours. Finally, long after I couldn't feel my legs, I opened the door and peered out. The coast seemed clear. I crawled to my sleeping legs, and limped out into the hallway, knife drawn. I didn't see her above me and the glass cover had been replaced so I decided the coast was clear.

I made my way back into the living room, to see that it was completely trashed. The t.v. had distinct finger grooves in its smashed form, and I knew she had squeezed it in her hand. The couch had been snapped in half, and tossed against the far wall. The kitchen was in bigger shambles than I care to describe. Then I noticed him.


Trapped under one of the heavy couch halves, was 3 inch tall Andrew the reporter.

I rushed to his side, finding enough strength to lift the couch clumsily to the side. I was happy to see that he was still breathing, but that was about the only good news. He looked in worse condition than I imagine I did when I was dumped in here.


His whole body was one big bruise, and the same clothes he was wearing when we got taken, were in tatters. I couldn't explain it, but his whole body seemed flatter than it should have.


I tried my best to wake him, but he was unresponsive. I couldn't tell the extent of the damage, but that girl had done some serious work on him. I didn't know if Nea had orders to help him too, so I decided I would have to help him until she did.


Putting his arm over my shoulder, I hoisted him awkwardly to a standing position. I made our way slowly to the first bedroom in the hallway, and though it was a struggle, I eventually got him up on the bed. I walked back out to the kitchen, and opened the now dented freezer door. It was seriously blowing my mind how equipt this place really was, as there were multiple ice packs waiting in there. Taking 3, I re-entered the bedroom.


To access the situation, I stripped Andrew down to his boxers. His chest was dark blue and green and his legs seemed slightly swollen. He was covered in blood, but it looked to be mostly the girls. He did have a huge knot and cut above his left eye that was leaking on to the pillow.


I made a trip to the closet, and grabbed the first soft shirt I found. I wrapped it around his head, with the ice pack inside. I took the other two, and put them on his legs. After doing all I could do, I left him be, and walked back into the living room.

I felt compelled to clean up the mess in there, but decided against it. Why should I have to do anything other than just sit here. What I did do, is take the opportunity to set up a bit of an offensive. As far as I could tell, there weren't any cameras in here, so I could make moves freely.


Grabbing every knife and big fork from the kitchen, I went from room to room, leaving a few in every closet and under every bed. Not that I would have time to run and hide again if that girl decided to come back for me, but if I did, I would at least have the element of surprise on my side and might be able to ruin her day.



After that, I did end up shoving the couch back into relative position. Not for any reason other than I didn't want to stand.


"Fucking bitch." I said to myself as I looked over all the damage the girl had done to the place.


The television would have at least made this bearable but now I was stuck in silence with nothing to do but think about what terrible things awaited me in this next "meeting." I was 100% sure that it would with Bridgette. That was my luck to a T. Flashbacks of her trampling me like garbage and using my body like a fucking window squeegy pissed me off to no end. I didn't know how, but I knew I needed to take a chunk out of her.



About an hour and a half later, my heart almost stopped, when out of nowhere, the lights in the room outside of the cell turned off. I guess the lights I side the cell were on the same circuit, because they all dimmed just enough so I could make my way back to a bedroom.


I Decided to call it a night, but not before I grabbed all of Andrew's ice packs and replaced them with fresh ones. He was still unresponsive, which worried me, but I would try again to wake him in the morning.


I climbed into the bed across the hall from him. I noticed immediately that it was incredibly comfortable. I didn't know exactly who these people were, but I did know that they seemed to spare no expense. Again I figured that holding us prisoners wasn't probably what this cell was for. I didn't think that I would ever be the recipient of that hospitality though. I really had a sneaking suspicion that there was more pain, and more confrontations in my future. Ever seeing the outside world again almost seemed an impossibility.


. . . . .



"Marcus. . . "


"MARCUS!"


I was getting tapped on my shoulder.

I immediately rolled away like a kid who wanted five more minutes of sleep.


"Marcus, wake the fuck up!"


I finally obliged, and found Andrew standing above me. He still appeared in rough shape but at least he was awake. He had wiped some of that giant girls blood off of his face and had thrown on one of the 6 inch tall shirts that fit him like a full length robe.

"Wh-what's up, What's wrong man?" I asked, sleepily.

"Haha, that's a fucked up question and answer isn't it!" He said. Though he did laugh, I could tell he was dead serious.

Waking up a little bit, thoughts of his body's condition came to mind.

"You. . . Should probably lay back down Andrew. You're in pretty rough shape." I offered, sitting up in my bed.

"I will. . . But, who is that big girl crying in the living room?" He asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Big girl crying in the living room?" I repeated, thinking. "Oh fuck! Is that girl that had you back here!?" I asked him, whipping the covers back and grabbing for my butcher knife on the night stand.

"No, no! Thank God! She is still small, just bigger than us." He explained.

"What the fuck? I thought to myself.

"Uhh, stay here man. . . I'll go check it out." I said, holding up the knife.

He only nodded.


I slowly stuck my head out and looked. I couldn't immediately see anyone but I could hear somebody crying in the living room. Cautiously with my knife in front of me, I made my way out of my room and down the hall. I took one deep breath, then stepped out into the living room.



"Oh what the fuck! Samantha!?" I regarded her.


She was huddled in the corner of the room, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. Her head snapped up when she heard my voice. What happened next wasn't anything like the reaction I thought she would have.


The sad, pitiful, mascara smeared face went from crying to bitchy in about one second.


"Oh my fucking god!" She spat, her distaste for me was evident as all hell.


"Samantha. . . Are. . Are you alright?" I asked, genuinely worried.


"Shut the fuck up Marcus! What do you even care?! You are the reason I'm here!" She shouted, wiping tears from her eyes.


"Hey, I was just trying to make the work space a better place!" I argued in my defense.


"Oh, I bet! Nothing you do is genuine! You're a scheming little weasel at work and in the outside world. Now it's just finally catching up with you. I hope they break you in here Marcus, I really do." She said quietly, turning her face away from me and just going quiet.


Without thinking, I ran off at the mouth in the moment.

"Why don't you shut up and do something about it! Instead of being all talk and no action like always! How long exactly did you try for the last supervisor position before Bridgette gave it to Greta just to piss me off? That must mean I outrank you for importance doesn't it?" I shouted, laughing a malicious fake laugh.

That did it. . . . Any self-pity Samantha had been feeling up to this point had just been obliterated. The scowl on her face told me I was in for it now as she stood up and up and up to her full 6 inch height.

Shit. . . . I forgot that Andrew had told me that. Whoever had been dealing with Samantha, had seen fit to shrink her only to the standard 6 inch mark, not 3 like myself and Andrew. At the same height, I SHOULD have had more strength than her. . . . I mean. . .I AM scrawny by any measure of the word, but she's a woman and I'm a man! But at half the scale. . . I say scale because shrinking isn't just about height. Our build stays proportionate, so now I was just a weedy little man in front of this mousy little assistant who happened to be twice my size.

Samantha turned to me, her face was a bright shade of red and her hair was mess. I I instincually took a step back as she took one toward me. I hadn't noticed, but I was unconsciously brandishing the knife shakily in my hands in front of me.


"See Marcus, this is why nobody anywhere can fucking stand you for more than 2 minutes. It's like you physically cannot resist doing underhanded shit." She spat at me, referencing the cold silver butcher knife looking comically large in my hands.

She took another step forward and again I went back. This made her chuckle.

"Even WITH that knife, you're too much of a little chicken shit to face me!" She took another step closer, slowly hunting me down. Leading me into her trap.

With my eyes glued on her, I didn't see the crumpled up television behind me, and as I took another step back, my foot caught and I fell back over it and landed hard on my back, jaring the blade from my hands. It clanged to the floor and slid out of reach. Literally as soon as it fell Samantha was after me. I didn't have time to think, so I just bolted away from her.

I Felt like such a little wimp as Samantha chased me around the living room, jumping the t.v. and following me down the hall like a pissed off big sister chasing her annoying little brother. The mental picture was driven home as I ran into what was now officially my bedroom, and tried to slam the door, but as luck would have it, Samantha made it there just in time to keep the door from closing.

For a moment it looked like I might be able to hold her off and get the door closed, but those hopes were shattered when she repositioned her feet to better push.

"Help me push!" I screamed at Andrew, who had a terrified look on his face from the commotion.

He immediately moved to back me up, putting his shoulder into it, and slowly but surely we began to gain back real estate. We had the door to within an inch of closing, and one more big push would successfully seal off the angry amazon outside.

"Ok!" I shouted. "One. . . . . Two. . . . . "Thr-"

As soon as I got to three, Samantha gave her biggest push, catching us both off guard. We were thrown back on to the floor as the giantess pushed her way in.

Andrew was on the ground, clutching his chest and he chose to stay down. I foolishly chose to stand and Samantha immediately grabbed my face in her big hand. She pushed me back and bent me on to the bed, pinning me down and smothering me with her palm.

I struggled against her, trying to pry her hand from my head with my smaller hands but she was too strong. I did manage to kick her in her boob, which only made her more mad. She pinned my legs with her free hand, climbing over them to straddle me. The rest of my air was squashed out of me as she sat heavily on me, her butt covering me from stomach to ankle.

Samantha moved her hands from my face, to my throat, her fingers encircling my whole neck. I could see it in her eyes that she wasn't about to stop, at least until I was unconscious. I was helpless as my former co-worker squeezed the life out of me, the corners of my vision going dark.

By this time, Andrew had gathered himself up. Seeing me about to expire, he jumped into action, climbing onto the bed. He lunged at Samantha, swinging wildly with his tiny fists. To my relief, she released her grip on my throat to fight off Andrew's attack. She held her arms up, blocking every other blow but some landed, catching her in various places on her upper body. Since I could breath, Andrew decided to try to get her off of me completely.

He put his shoulder into her, hoping to push her to the side but she was too heavy for such a move and he was stopped dead in his tracks. They were deadlocked for a moment, before Samantha got leverage on him and devastated him.

I watched in shock as she grabbed him by his shoulders, and gave him a massive shove. He flew through the air for what seemed like an eternity before he smashed into the closet door, cracking the thin wood. He landed in a crumpled mess on the floor and didn't move again.

With him taken care of, Samantha turned her attention back to me. She immediately picked up where she had left off, strangling the life out of me. With Andrew finished, I had no more options and again my vision went dark. I only stared up into samantha's eyes, finding no pity as she finished me off. Just as I was about to go out, I heard the familiar sound of slots in the walls opening, and saw the blue smoke begin to fill the room.

The blue gas again. . . .just another way to keep me in line. . . .

I woke up to a pounding headache. I was confused as to why I was dangling right now and what the loud clacking was, but as my vision cleared, I figured it out.


Looking up, I saw that I was being carried by the back of my shirt by another woman I hadn't seen before. She had all the look of a strict c.e.o's assistant. A heavy case of resting bitch face, glasses on the tip of her nose. She held some sort of tablet under the arm opposite myself. I looked to her feet and found the source of the clacking. Black high heels that adorned her hose covered feet hammered a white tile floor as she walked down a long, empty hall and above them, a neatly ironed skirt. The whole of this woman screamed "corporate".



As I started to move, she regarded me.


"Good! Now that you're awake, I can give you the information you need before I can get on with my day!" She said promptly.



" Where. . . .where are you taking me?" I asked, clearing the cobwebs.


"To your next meeting of course! A little sooner than ideal, but after the little situation in your quarters, I don't really have a choice while the boys repair everything you destroyed."


"Hey, I didn't do any of that! This little girl destroyed everything and Samantha came after me!" I stated, explaining my innocence.


"You're never to blame, are you Mr. Jensen?" She asked, her voice was so condescending that it made me want to puke.


I was just about to go off on this giant, snobby bitch, when she reached her destination. On the right side of the hallway, was a metal door with a wide window lined with razor wire. I really didn't get a glimpse inside before she pulled the heavy door open.


Behind the door, was something I didn't expect. We were now in a professional quality boxing gym. Various punching bags and other exercise equipment lined the walls and in the center of the big gym, was a giant ring.


The woman walked loudly over to a bench on the left side of the gym, and lowered me to the ground in front of her feet. A second later, she pulled something out her shirt pocket and deposited it in front of me. . . . A white t-shirt and blue gym shorts.

"Change." The giant brunette said, not even looking at me as she had begun working on her tablet.

Nothing about the situation felt good, so I decided I wasn't going to do anything this woman said. I only stood with my arms folded, challenging her. 2 minutes later, she glanced down to check my progress and her immediate irritation was evident. I could tell by her expression that she was used to getting her way, right away, and anyone who defied her was dealt with swiftly and absolutely.


"I said, CHANGE." She said loudly, her voice hitting a particular note that vibrated me to the core. The look on her face told me I wouldn't be told again.


"I. . . I think you guys owe me some sort of explanation!" I said, really unsure of myself.


Her death glare never faded as she bent at the knees, protecting her modesty with her skirt, and plucked me up between her fingers before standing back up. To assert her dominance over me, she used my body to smooth out the wrinkles of her skirt, mildly burning my skin with the coarse material. Next I was brought to her face.



"Look, CHILD!" She hissed right in my face "I honestly do not have time for your bullshit. There is a time and a place to make a stand but unfortunately for you, your time is long gone! Just like the child you are, you let short sighted goals blind you. A little solid research into who you were dealing with, and you probably wouldn't have been in this position!" She gave me an overly rough shake as she said this.


"You're in the belly of the beast. You've already lost! You're in the presence of people who can wipe all evidence of your existence off the very surface of the earth, and here you are, throwing a tantrum over shorts and a t-shirt! Her voice was taking on energy as she spoke. It felt like she was about to explode on me at any moment.


"I know you want to cry about how you were treated, and how things turned out for you, but let me tell you this. . . . Every little bitchy girl who ever bullied you in class. . . . .they all have big sister's who are 100 times worse. They just sit back and wait, PRAYING. . . . That some little fuck just like you has the nerve to lay a finger on little sis. Low and behold, here you are! Now shut your little mouth and change!" She said, her voice below a shout, but still not calm either.

I was whizzed back to the ground, as the lady bent again at the knees. As expected, she made sure to smash my face, thoroughly into the floor, as she left me in a heap on the floor.


It took me a second to literally peel my head from the tile floor, before I scurried over to the clothes and began to change. 5 seconds later, I was back in high school gym with my pencil arms and chicken legs on full display. I hung my head at the humiliation of it all and above me, the woman had a slight smirk.


"See! That wasn't so hard was it? " she asked, confidently. "Now, come over here." She commanded, picking me back up, more gently this time. The woman thundered over something I never thought I'd see again,. . . The same model shrink machine that was in the office.


She set me down in front of it and walked to the control panel. She flipped up the safety cover, inserted the operation key and turned it on. The whole stainless steel frame buzzed to life as she typed in a desired height. Without a word, she motioned me through. I stepped through the threshold like I had done hundreds of times in my short career and felt the familiar sensation of gaining height, but just as soon as it had begun, it was over.


I looked to the woman, with whom I was only chest height. She punched in the shut down code, pulled her key and closed the panel.


"Alright Mr. Jensen, that's the end of our time together. I'll leave you two alone and she'll be with you shortly." The last informed me, before gathering up her things and exiting back through the steel door.


I thought for a moment "What did she mean "You two"?"


I glanced around the room, and that's when I noticed him. Andrew was slumped in the far corner of the room. He was wearing the same gym clothes as me and was about the same height. I couldn't tell from where I was, but he looked like he was either sleeping, or straight up unconscious. Not knowing how much time we had before this "meeting", I ran to him and tried to wake him.


"Andrew. . . . ANDREW!" I shouted, shaking his shoulder.


It took a moment, but he slowly came to.


"Jesus Andrew, Samantha really did a number on you man. " I said, looking him over.


"I. . . I'm pretty sure her name wasn't Samantha." He answered, barely staying conscious.


"Yeah! Samantha, the girl from the cage that threw you." I tried jogging his memory.


"Not her. . . . The giant girl" he corrected me.


"Who was that!?" What did she do with you?" I asked, wringing him for information.


"I don't know who exactly she was. . . Some psycho little bitch! When I woke up from the kidnapping, I was already fucking tiny and in her bedroom."



"Did you see anything we can use? Like a way out or something like that?" I pressed.


"I didn't really have time to take in the scenery. She. . . . "Played" with me from the second she saw me, up until she dropped me in the cell with you."


"What do you mean "played"?" I asked, using air quotes.


He only shook his head no, like I didn't want to know.


"She said she only got new toys when her mom decided they weren't important anymore. That girl nearly killed me Marcus!"


"Listen, I'm working on a plan to get us out of here!" I lied, " but I really need you to focus on the task at hand here. Somebody I'm sure we don't want to meet is coming this way and yes, we're bigger now, but knowing these people, that's only because the extra size isn't going to make one bit of difference in whatever this is!" I said, bringing my face close to his.


"I. . I hate to tell you this Marcus, but I can barely even stand. I'm afraid I won't be of much use to you man." He said, barely staying awake.


"Hey! Don't you say that to m-

My little pep talk was cut short as a back door to the gym swung open and in walked the worst possible scenario.


Bridgette.

She only glanced our direction as she set her duffle bag down along the wall. She had on a blue exercise top and black spandex leggings. Her feet were bare. She had a yoga mat under her other arm and her hair looked damp like she had already been working out today.

"Oh. . . Oh shit!" Andrew said when he saw her. "That's the main chick from your company isn't it?!"


"Yeah. . . Her names Bridgette. . "


"She's huge. . . " he commented.


"I know" was all I answered back.


Bridgette had set down the yoga mat and was drinking from a hard plastic water bottle before she spoke to us.


"Go ahead and get in the ring boys, I'll join you in a second." She said cheerfully, like we were just some old sparring partners.


I entertained thoughts of running away, but thinking about getting tackled by 250 lb security guards at this size sounded unpleasant to say the least. I knew we had no other options right now.


I helped Andrew stand, his legs wobbling, and we made our way to the steel steps on the side of the ring opposite Bridgette. As we slowly climbed step by step , I could see that she had sat down on a bench and was doing something on her phone. We ducked between the lowest and 2nd rope and entered the enormous ring.


Having never been in a wrestling ring before, I had to hide the little bit of excitement I did feel. It would have been on full display if it were under different circumstances but I really didn't like where this was going. Andrew apparently agreed.


"They don't expect us to. . . . Fight her do they? " he asked, his voice shaking with panic.


"Unfortunately, they probably do." Was all I said back.


"We can't. . . She'll destroy us!"


"It's really not any worse than truly giant women trying to crush us is it?" I asked flatly. He nodded in agreement but I could see he still wasn't comfortable with the whole thing, and honestly I didn't blame him.


"Just stick together! She may have size, but we have speed. It's two on one." I assured him, and for a second his spirit seemed to lift a little bit, until Bridgette made her way to the ring.


She set her phone down and walked up to the edge of the ring. We watched in awe as this giant of a woman scaled the side like king Kong on the empire state building. When she got to the apron, standing on the outside, she did something that made our jaws drop.


Bridgette easily pushed down the top rope, and stepped over all three like they were a fence for a toddler. As if that wasn't intimidating enough, as she put her feet down, the whole ring shook with every step she took. Her foot steps felt heavier than I remembered from my days in the office, but then again, she was rarely barefoot there.



To my side, I could see that Andrew had begun to shake uncontrollably. His face had gone pale and sweat was forming all over him. I knew I had to intervene before she killed him off of fear alone.


I was just about to speak, when Bridgette began to stretch. She bent at the waist to touch her toes, and my mouth went dry from the sight. Her glorious ass seemed as wide as both of our scrawny chests side by side. I couldn't tell if it was just that I hadn't seen her in some time, or what, but she seemed. . . Different.



Finally peeling my eyes off of her, I remembered what I needed to do.


"Look Bridgette. . . I really don't think we are going to be able to do this. . . . Andrew seriously needs medical attention here." I stated, trying my best to sound reasonable.


I flinched slightly as Bridgette began to walk towards us. It was honestly hard not to get bumped off of my feet with every step she took. When she neared, I came to a spirit crushing discovery.


While we were chest height on the assistant lady, our faces were only dead even with Bridgette's exposed belly button. I didn't honestly see any way that we could do anything to her.

I flinched as she reached for us, but to our relief, she only placed the back of her hand on Andrew's forehead.

"He does feel a LITTLE warm, but I'm sure that's just pre-match jitters. He should get over it once he gets into the swing of things." She stated, walking back to her corner.

"Can't you just give us a break today? We've been through alot. Samantha nearly killed us, some little psycho girl pretty much crushed Andrew, your mom broke me. . . We can't do this Bridgette!" I tried to reason.

I guess I deserved it, but as soon as I finished my sentence, she made me pay. Bridgette let out her "I'm so sick of your shit marcus" sigh and crushed me.

"FINE!. . . .fine. . . .HE gets to sit this one out." She said, pointing at Andrew. "That means it's one on one. Me and you! And before you try to worm your way out, I know for a fact that Nea healed you, so you're as ready as a little wimp like you can be!" She finished, giving me that smug look she gave me every single time she fucked me over at the office.

I said nothing.

There was nothing TO say. Once again my big mouth got me cast into the lions den. I was in here, with arguably my worst enemy, at half her size.

"Ok, the rules are : I have to get 5 falls on you. That means pins, submissions and K.O's. Since I don't think you doing anything to me . . .even if you were full size, all you have to do is survive for 10 minutes. If you can do that, you win." She explained and immediately went to ring a bell mounted on the outside corner of the ring.


"Hold on! What do I get if I win!?" I asked, stopping her in her tracks.


"Hmm." She pondered, putting her finger on her chin. "How about. . . Great big bragging rights!" She said cheerfully, knowing full well it would piss me off. "You can totally tell. . . This guy, or. . . . Nea, or my mom or whoever you happen to come across that you beat Bridgette in a wrestling match!"


There it was. . . . Bridgette was the one person who knew exactly what to say to effectively destroy me emotionally with pin point accuracy. Whether she meant to or not, she basically just told me that I was never getting out of here. . . . Not alive anyway.


I didn't have time to think about it though, as she rang the bell. It was show time.

"You're gonna kill him!" Andrew screamed as he resorted to full on throwing punches at her now.


"I have a confession to make And4rew. . . This whole thing isn't really a wrestling match." Bridgette said, sheepishly, all the while still crushing Marcus up to his limit.


"It's actually more like. . . . Field testing?. . .i guess." She finished, pondering her statement.


She paused for a moment, before her arms loosened briefly, cinched up, and gripped him again.

Marcus's body crunched again, this time more wet sounding as bones and muscle yielded to Bridgette's iron bear hug. She showed no signs of remorse as she threatened to snap his pencil body in half.

"See. . . When you and "captain workplace" here decided you were going to ban together, not only did you take down the whole company, but you subsequently fucked me over personally. . . . While my mother did help me get the business off the ground, long before I actually even started working in the office, it wasn't for free. I owe her a debt, and with no job now, you can see my dilemma."

She turned her head and looked down at Andrew.

"That's where you two come in. One of the ways I can keep mother happy is if I pitch in with the family business. Today just so happens to be the day I need to test one of the new products that the lab came up with."

"Whatever it is, just please stop!" You're killing him!" Andrew cried, begging from his knees.

Bridgette studied Marcus' lifeless face.

"I think he can take one more. . . . Nea told me specifically to see if I could crush his ribs, if I do, then we get some more data and keep progressing. If I can't, then it means the substance was successful and ready to put out into the field.

"Andrew's head was spinning with all the information he was taking in. He knew he was dealing with entities far above his paygrade, but labs and secret substances all seemed like somethingout of a sci-fi movie. For that matter, so did shrinking and size manipulation in general. He didn't sign up for this. . . Any of it. He had just been looking for a quick scoop to boost his standings with the boss and maybe get his own desk finally, but now. . . Now he would give that all up just to forget he saw anything and just go home.

Above him, Bridgette prepared for her final squeeze.

"Look man, I don't honestly get off on this, if it makes you feel any better. Sure, Marcus is a pain in my ass, but whether it was him or anyone else right here, makes no difference to me. I won't lie and say I wasn't pissed when I heard we were getting shut down, but I've been dealing with little shits like him my entire life."

By this point, Andrew had given up begging, and had regressed to just sobbing uncontrollably at Bridgette's feet. He couldn't look up, and only heard the final squeeze. He just covered his head with his hands and wept.

After finishing, Bridgette stepped around him, carrying Marcus to the corner of the ring. She set him down, leaning against the post and stood back up. She climbed out of the ring, and dug through her duffle bag. Andrew watched her closely, praying she wasn't going for her phone and to his relief, she pulled out a tablet instead. A minute later she was back in the ring.

"Hey, give me a hand here!" She said, motioning Andrew over to where she was crouching over Marcus. "I need you to be my camera guy while I document this for the lab. Ok?"

Bridgette handed Andrew the tablet, already in camera mode. He watched as she readjusted Marcus, having him flat on his back now. She carefully pulled his shirt up over his head, and began to examine him.

To Andrew's surprise, the giant, gorgeous, bone crushing blonde, began to administer a very thorough medical examination. She explained what she was seeing as she went along. Andrew kept the camera on her hands as she felt up and down his ribcage.

"Hmm, the subject seems to have sustained deep bruising, and skin discoloration. Ribs ARE out of position, but nothing is broken. He will have to be examined further to know if there is any internal bleeding. As expected, breathing is shallow and laboured and the subject lost consciousness after the first pressure application"


After seeing everything on his chest, she easily rolled him over, and began the same inspection on his back.

"His hips are out of alignment."

She felt up his back, taking notes of irregularities, before standing up.

"Alrigh. That should be all I need to keep mommy dearest happy. " Bridgette commented, reaching out for the tablet.

It took a bit of effort to pull it from Andrew's hands as he was in mild shock.

"Someone should be around to pick you guys up in a little while." She informed him, before turning to leave.

"You. . . . You're a . . . disgusting human being." Andrew said without think or warning.

Bridgette stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around and for the first time, she looked angry.

". . . . What did you just say to me?" She asked, her eyes narrowed.

Andrew just cowered and looked away. His body was shaken as Bridgette stomped back over to him. She towered over him, hands on hips.

"I didn't lay a finger on you, you little shithead! As per Marcus' request! So you need to shut the fuck up and count your blessings!" She shouted at him.

It wasn't often that Bridgette lost her cool. Not really since she was a teenager, but she was fuming now.

Andrew gathered his courage, standing up to face her. His view of her from waist height didn't help his confidence any.

"Its not about me! It's about right and wrong! You didn't need to treat him like that." Andrew said, his head cranked back to look her in the eye.

"What do you know about right and wrong?! You know nothing about me, or what my mom has done, and will do to anyone who crosses her. So just keep your head down and stay out of my fucking way!" She shouted, restraining herself from putting her hands on him.

"That has nothing to do with us!, it's not Marcus' fault you have mommy issues. Karma is going to catch up with you. . . All of you!" Andrew argued back.

"Oh my fucking God!" Bridgette shouted.

"You. . . You're done talking!" She said, her tone quieter but still angry.

Before he could react, Bridgette grabbed Andrw by his shirt, and lifted him over her head, with ease. He had no time to even protest as she slammed him, face down into the ground in a two handed spike. He was out instantly, his nose broken and his chest further pulverized. The ring continued to shake from her power a few seconds after she exited the ring, gathered her things, and left through the door that Marcus had been brought in.


Both boys lay unconscious for the next 2 hours as nobody came to collect them.


Finally, the back door to the gym swung open and a figure whistling to herself walked in. She walked casually through, just using the gym as a shortcut until she glanced into the ring, and noticed the two unmoving bodies.

"Holy shit!" She said under her breath. She looked around to see if anyone else was around, but saw no one, so she cautiously climbed the steps, and ducked between the ropes.

She walked to the center of the ring, seeing the man with the pool of blood under this face. Slowly, she grabbed his hair, and lifted his head from the apron.

"Andy!?" She asked, shocked.

She layed his head down, and easily rolled him onto his back, before kneeling and resting his head on her thighs.

"Andy!" She called loudly, trying to wake him. She tried to slap his face a little to stir him, but he was out cold.

Just then, she nearly jumped out of her skin as the man behind her came to with a scream.



Holy fuck, how long was I out!


The last thing I remembered, was Bridgette squeezing the absolute shit out of me, trying to break my ribs or my back, I'm not sure which. . . . Fuck! The wrestling match.

I quickly rolled over, a shot of pain going through my entire torso as I did. What I saw made my skin crawl.

It was the young girl that had brought Andrew to me. . . . And now she had him again, bloody faced and unconscious. While she did look just as surprised to see me, I still didn't want her anywhere near me. I cautiously backed away from her, cowering into the corner of the ring.

"What the hell did you do to him!?" I demanded.

"I. . . I just found him like this!" She answered defensively.

I looked around. . . No Bridgette.

"Where's Bridgette?" I asked, rudely.

"Bridgette was here?" She asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah, she tried to kill me!" I responded sharply.

"You look fine to me. ." She said, flatly.

"Except for the ribs she almost broke!"

"You're kind of a baby aren't you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Fuck you!" I shot back, unsure of what else to say.

Immediately the look on her face changed. It was almost predatory. . . Like she had been waiting for this.

"What's you problem? Do you want to fight or something?" She asked, narrowing her eyes and standing up, letting Andrew's head bounce carelessly off the ground.

Now standing, I got my first good look at her. She was wearing jean shorts and a tank top. Black and red high tops were on her feet and her long, wavy blonde hair was a frizzy mess. Her cheeks were covered in freckles and looked mildly sunburnt. On top of that. . . . She was tall.

I didn't know how old she was, or really how tall I was exactly, but she had me by at least a head and some weight to boot.

"No, I don't want to fight! I want you to leave. You've done enough to Andrew already. I don't need this right now!" I said, trying to keep my calm.

The girl stepped over Andrew like he was a piece of trash on her way to me. She stopped a step in front of me.

"ANDY" She said, correcting me obnoxiously, "was given to me by my mom. If he would have listened to me, I would have been nice to him!" She said, obviously challenging me.

"We aren't toys you can just play! You broke him, and if I didn't have that knife, you might have killed me too!" I shouted at her.

"What are you talking about? I've never even seen you before!" She spat at me, a confused look on her face.

Then it dawned on her.

I watched her look at her fingertip, a blue bandaid on it, then squint up at me.

"That was you!?" She asked, shoving me hard against the turn buckle.

"Yeah! You're lucky I didn't cut your whole finger off!" I answered, shoving her back.

The moment my hands touched her shoulders, she went off. I was swarmed by a flurry of slaps and smacks as the girl got the fight she was looking for. I could do nothing but curl up and cover my face as the barrage overtook me.

I knew I had to do something, and pushed past her, out of the corner. I got some distance between us, moving clear to the other side, but she kept coming, that crazy look was back in her eyes. She was stalking me like prey.

It didn't look like there would be any talking her out of this and I wasn't sure how many rounds I really wanted to go with her. I truly didn't want to beat up a little girl, and at the same time I didn't want to get beat up either.

I knew I should escape, but leaving Andrew alone with her again was not an option. I didn't have time to make a decision as she closed the distance. She shoved me again, and again, but I refused to hit her. This only seemed to piss her off more.

"C'mon! Do something you little wimp!" She shouted, pushing at me while I parried her hands.

I managed to hold her off, until she did the dirtiest thing possible. The girl caught my smaller hands in hers, and while cranking my wrists in a test of strength, she brought her right foot back, and delivered the hardest nut shot I've ever taken.

I'm ashamed to say that the kick was so brutal, and me so light, that she actually managed to lift my feet off the ground with it. Pain shot through my stomach and puke actually dribbled from my mouth as I collapsed on the ground at her feet.

I was barely functioning now, as the aftermath of her kick settled in. My whole stomach hurt, and tears were involuntarily rolling from my eyes. The taste of vomit was thick in my mouth, and I tried my best to spit it out on to the mat. Pathetically, all I could do was curl up and wait for her next move.

"Roll over on to your back!" She demanded.

I remained still, eyes screwed shut.

"I said. . .ROLL OVER!"

Unavoidably, I felt the sharp kick to my stomach as she made me roll over by force. I opened my eyes to see her upside down above me.

"I think I'm going to knock you out, then shrink you down even more. . . I could use a new little toy, Andy wasn't very fun after I stepped on him. " she informed me.

Another piece to the Andrew puzzle. I wish I could have pondered that sentiment more, but her raising her high top above my head, ready to smash it into my face was a little distracting. She was ready now to deal me the final blow.

"TESSA! Do you really think your mother will appreciate you harming one of her test subjects before I get the data I need?" Came a voice from the direction of the door I had entered.

Nea.

Above me, frustration and defiance shown on the girls face. She was contemplating stomping me anyway. I braced for the worst, but to my surprise, she put her foot back down on the ground.

"Thank you!" Nea said, condescendingly as she walked to the edge of the ring. Her footsteps were accompanied by the sound of wheels rolling. I heard her walk up the steel steps, and felt the ring shake as she stepped inside.

"Would you give me a hand loading these two on to the cart dear?" Nea asked, sweetly.

The fact that this girl. . . "Tessa", didn't like being told what to do, was abundantly clear at that moment. Her hands were now fists, and her shoulders were rigid. Begrudgingly, she extended her hand to me to help me up.

As soon as she did, the sound of a ringtone sounded out. Nea fished in her lab coat pocket, and pulled out her phone. I instantly questioned how HER phone worked here, but I wasn't able to call out with Bridgette's.

She checked the caller i.d.

"I need to take this. Please help these men onto the cart." She said as she stepped back out of the ring, and walked hurriedly toward the back entrance to the gym.

"Tessa. . . . No games! I'm serious. Just help them and leave! I'll be right back. " she said sternly, before walking out.

I swallowed hard as Tessa turned back to me. The sick grin on her face told me I was fucked.

A second later, the stomp that Nea had interuppted, was administered to my face, putting me out cold.

With some effort, Marcus' limp body was dragged by the arms, out of the ring and roughly down the steps. She pushed the cart out of her way, and pulled him across the dirty floor, to the shrinking machine. She stepped to the control panel.


Just then, Marcus let out a groan. Tessa rolled her eyes in frustration.




"What the fuck!" I screamed at her, touching the fresh cut above my eye.


She ignored me, entering information into the panel. I watched as she pulled out a key and inserted it and a second later, the machine turned on.


"Walk through." She said, flatly.


It took me a second to comprehend what she wanted, my brain scrambled.


"What?. . No. . No fucking way." I responded, dismissively.


"Either you walk through. . . . Or I force you through." She responded calmly, as if there was no way she couldn't do it.



"Nea is going to be back any minute, she is gonna be pissed that you're fucking with me." I said, hoping to spark some fear of getting in trouble into her.



"Ha! Too bad I locked her out! It takes 20 minutes to walk all the way around from that way." She informed me, her tone bratty.



I had no way of knowing whether or not that was true, but I had to hold out. My body was in too rough of shape to out run the girl, and from what I'd seen, she had me in strength too. My options were limited, and as she stepped out from the panel. I was beginning to think that she thrived on these confrontations.


I tried to make a break for it, but I only took two steps, before I felt an arm around my throat. She bent me backward, stretching me out as she dragged me until I was face to face with the machine.


Fuck.


Her arm retreated from around my neck, and I felt both hands on my back as she prepared to push me through.


As a last attempt, I put my hands on the frame and resisted her. A battle of wills as she seeked to shrink me down to size. I strained my hardest, but she was winning the war. My arms felt rubbery and my legs felt weak. . . . I knew I was going in. There was no way around it. I heard her take a deep breath and just as she was about to give me the final shove. . . .


The back door opened and Nea returned.

Knowing she could get in serious trouble, Tessa released me, and made a run for the front door. She pulled it open, slipped through, and was gone.

My heart was pounding out of my chest as I slowly walked back to where the silver double decker cart was. I know Nea wasn't anything close to an ally, but I had to admit I was a little glad to see her.

She looked infinitely annoyed that myself and Andrew weren't waiting on the cart, but she said nothing as I willingly laid down on the bottom bunk, a sign of my surrender. It took her a few minutes, but she eventually got Andrew's limp body onto the cart and we were on our way. I decided to try for more information as we walked.

"Who was that girl? What the fuck is her problem?" I asked as Nea wheeled the cart along the long hallway.

"Tessa. . . Claire's youngest daughter and Bridgette's sister." She answered, no emotion present.

"What's wrong with her? I . . . I could feel she. . ." I began but couldn't put words to thoughts.

Nea only chuckled.

"She's. . . Just a little overzealous when it comes to product testing." She said, not really caring if I believed her, and not really trying to convince me.

"What kind of people leave other people's lives in the hands of some crazy little girl!?" I spat at her.

"It isn't my call." Was all she said.

It was silent for a moment.

"Has she ever killed anyone?" I asked, my voice dead serious. "Tell me the truth."

I couldn't see her face from my position in the bottom of the cart, but her silence told me all I needed to know as she continued to walk.


"We're here." She said as she entered in a security code and entered a separate wing of the building. We were back in the lab. Nea took us both back to her section of the it, and we were unloaded. I was placed in some type of chamber sized for a full sized human.

It had holes with latex arms, and various tools hung inside with cords leading out. Nea sat down outside the chamber and appeared to be looking at my body through some type of heads up display on the outside glass. A few minutes later, she went to work examining the damage Bridgette had done to me.


This time, no type of miracle gel was applied to me, but she did turn up the temperature in the chamber, and to my surprise, my body did start to feel better immediately. I was given a pillow, and was made to spend the night in the chamber.


I awoke feeling refreshed, my body feeling good as new. I didn't know exactly what that green shit was, but it really did work.

Outside the chamber, scientists moved around the lab in various areas. Each one seemed to be conducting their own experiments and research, but I knew they all somehow answered to Claire. I was forced to stay in the pod until finally, an hour later Nea arrived and let me out.

I was given fresh clothes and made to follow her out of the main lab and into another smaller wing. She opened the door for me, gesturing me inside. Taking the first door on the left, I was a little confused by what I saw.

To my relief, Andrew was there, and it looked like he had been repaired to the same standard as I was. He appeared to have had a good night's sleep, and the only evidence of the day before, was the fact that his nose still looked broken.

Samantha was in the room also, seated across the room from Andrew. She was her full height, which seemed like a load of bullshit, but I didn't question it out loud. She gave me the look from hell as I took the chair 2 down from Andrew.

There was another woman down from her that I had never seen before. She was also regular sized, but she wasn't in the greatest condition. Her face and neck were visibly bruised and she had a defeated look on her face.

Nea stood at a big island in the middle of the room, and addressed us all.

"Ok, subjects," she said, reinforcing the fact that she nor the company really gave a shit about us. "You guys are being transferred to a different lab across the country today. " she informed us.

Understandably, the general consensus around the room was disbelief. We all started talking at once, voicing our displeasure but Nea just weathered the storm and waited for us to be quiet again.

"It's not my decision! I just do as I'm told." Nea recited for I'm sure the millionth time in her life. "A major break through has been made on the east coast, and they need all of the unaltered test subjects they can get."

"Why don't they just hire them from that area? It would make more sense than paying for plane tickets to get us there!" Samantha spoke up.

"Travel plans have already been arranged. The scientist that made the discovery has been here at the compound all week and is flying back to his home today. He and his wife will transport you to the lab personally as it is only 5 miles from the city he lives in." Nea explained.

"You will be reduced to 3 inches and placed in chambers for transport. You will be in an induced coma until the lab needs you. "

More discontent with the situation. Not that it mattered.

In the coming hours, we were each reduced, chambered and gassed. From there, we were put in a briefcase and given to the scientist and his wife. They boarded the private plane bound for their home state, and ultimately we were delivered to the the new lab.

All of our previous lives were over, the cover up complete. We were all just numbers now. . . . Figures in a fucked up corporate business plan.

I had begun this journey as someone who overall, mattered very little, and you could say that my drive to change that, is exactly what got me to where I am today.