Halfway up, you jam your hand between the volume buttons, attempting to use it as leverage in what’s turning into a reasonably arduous climb. It's strenuous enough that you're too distracted to properly check your surroundings and fail to see what's coming. A shadow looms, blocking out everything and finally forcing your attention. An unstoppable blur barrels towards you, too big and fast for your eyes to accurately track. An absurd amount of motion overwhelms you into uselessness as you hang on for dear life, a hand hovering over the glamorized smartphone.

She picks up the device without a care in the world, most of the movement thankfully stopping after a brief jerk towards her face. Your hands ache, the shift in momentum putting enormous strain against them. It's a miracle you manage to hang on at all.

All the while, Alexis hums idly to herself, flicking through various screens you can't see. Closing applications and opening them. For what reason, you can't possibly guess. Perhaps she's scrolling through contacts, looking for help? But if that's the case, who could she call? Your hands get worse, turning bright red from the pressure of keeping your entire body from plummeting. You decide to make a push toward the top of the screen. It's risky, but staying here would only result in a nasty tumble to the floor below. However, before you have a chance to act, Lexy raises the phone to her ear, impossibly high decibels nearly shattering your eardrums as the phone starts to ring.

The barrage on your body and mind leaves you unable to hold on, and you plunge towards certain doom. Although fate has a more perverse plan for you, it seems. Instead of a messy splat on the tile below, you bounce onto her chest, clinging to the fabric of her rather plain black shirt. You try everything to calm the breathing in your lungs, gripping tightly onto the woven cotton fabrics that stretch endless before you like a web. This is far too small. No way you’d survive this! You're overridden with frightening thoughts of being splatted by some mundane accident. Crushed as she goes to give a hug, or possibly drowning in the laundry after she takes off her shirt, unable to find your way out of a man-made labyrinth before being unceremoniously tossed in the washing machine. It's horrifying to dwell on, doing nothing for your overall morale.

Lexy’s phone had been your only shot at getting her attention. And it had been stolen away by the very person worried about your well-being.  Her voice suddenly explodes, far too loud to have any hope of discerning. If she's trying to communicate, it's entirely lost on you. You clench your jaw, having no choice but to deal with the pain, unwilling to let go of the sloping ground to protect your ears.

Fighting the urge to writhe or even beat the soft ground in frustration, you have to wonder how such a short and sweet girl could be such an oblivious goddess. Being near her is wildly appealing even as you're ready to howl in pain, overwhelmed by mountains of stimulation. Alexis smells so strongly of sweets. A warmth complemented wonderfully by a thick fragrance. It furthers your longing to return to normal, to embrace her and revel in the heat.

You pick up your phone, and after a missed call to your sister, figure you should probably leave the family out of it. At least for now. Besides, you're pretty sure he's somewhere in the living space. How hard could it be to find him when you know exactly which room he’s in? Teleportation magic never worked long distances, so he could have ended up anywhere within a few feet of where the spell had gone so wrong. You tap the flashlight utility app and get to work, confident you’ll have him whisked away to safety in no time at all.

Bending down carefully, your muscles squeeze on Heather, creating an incredible sensation, digging her body further into the roof of your clit's hood. But you don't have time to linger on the electrifying amount of stimulation she's giving you. Instead, you throw your back into the search. It's exhaustive, searching through every flake of dust. Though, with such a repetitive task preoccupying you, it's easy to start thinking about what may have happened if he ended up outside. Unlikely, but possible…

You need to focus right now. You shake your head vigorously, tugging yourself away from the awful thoughts of some bug ripping your best friend limb from limb. You can't let yourself keep straying from such an important task. Renewed in your efforts, each fiber gets the same treatment, a thoroughly invasive search, courtesy of the phone's bright beam.

But, there's still not a single trace of Chris to be found. It's frustrating, and tears start to leak readily, a few managing to insignificantly patter against the forest of fibers below. You're getting desperate, and with nothing turning up any leads, you consider drawing on something forbidden, something dark. And ultimately, banking on a miracle.

The world shifts entirely, almost on a dime, catapulting you to the world below. You enter a wholly different universe while pelted hard against the rough strands of the carpet. A healthy helping of dirt is visible on the tips of the individual threads that stick out, nearly your size. It's breathtaking; however, Alexis’ vast body is what truly pulls your attention.

Right up in front, consuming your entire sky, and then some, is Lexy. Her frame is more immense than you've ever seen it, a normally dainty girl now imposing her building-like size over you, not even realizing she's doing so. She slowly moves ahead on all fours, knees beating the carpeted floor nearby into submission as she shines a spotlight across the land. Only, she's searching what's directly in front of her, and you're very at her tail end.

Taking a final moment to marvel, your eyes scan across her, cotton shirt blending into the black of her yoga's. The seam gives a sneak peek of her relatively flat stomach, her skin almost radiant from your view underneath. You wonder idly why she'd dress in all black today. But whatever, girls will be girls, you figure. At worst, maybe it's part of some freaky ritual that you aren't ‘in the know’ about. You don't have the faintest idea, but honestly, you're not concerned.

You'll need to catch up, but before you can, a clothed pillar of meat and force smashes into the ground next to you, it's material lustrous, glimmering with a slight sheen. The shaking of the world forces you to scurry hurriedly backward. It's a close call, your friend's knee almost eviscerating you on the spot. Tons of flesh and bone would have steamrolled you into dust had you been a fraction of an inch to the left. It's a sobering thought. Possibly too sobering, as you find yourself unable to move, absolutely petrified of being snuffed out.

She continues as you quake in fear, crawling further forward and getting increasingly frustrated at her inability to find you. You try to make yourself move, to brute force your way out of the mental block taking hold of you. But it feels impossible. A small action, a shift to the left, maybe a stumble, could leave you obliterated, and Alexis wouldn't have the faintest clue. How could you willingly get anywhere near her right now? It's straight-up suicide.

Well, as fate would have it, you don't have to. Alexis lets out a groan of frustration, rearing up in her knees. Your eyes go wide, seeing both her legs and thighs collapse in. It's nearly incomprehensible watching such a colossal object move so fast. It's a relatively mundane action, but that's precisely why it's so terrifying. There are seismic levels of power behind her glutes and even her thighs. Nuclear force ready to be unleashed at the drop of a hat.

Despite being on the carpet, the vibrations leave you struck by their power, the material doing little to hamper the awe your friend instills.

“Ugh!”

Her grunt of anger is less so human speech and more a thunderous eruption. The sound around it cracks magnificently, making the subtle sign of discontent feel like the word of a god. You can only pray that she doesn't lean back. And it's only now that you realize any attempt at running through the thick fibers would be a useless act, entirely for show. There's zero chance of making any headway if she decides to lay down. Though, you hope she has enough presence of mind to think. 

Hoping and wishing. It's all you really have left.

You sit up, letting out an almost guttural howl of frustration. At least, that's how you picture it. Though truthfully, it's nothing more than a mundane vent from all the rage building up inside. More akin to clearing your throat.

Hanging your head in defeat, you realize you'll have to chance something far riskier than you'd like. The number one thing mom always told you never to do. The same rule has been beaten into your head since you were young.

"Don't ever cast another spell not even an hour after a backfire. Do I make myself clear?" You sigh, looking lazily out the kitchen window as mom gives another one of her famously long-winded diatribes. When did you get to learn how to learn about frogs? That's all you can really think about. Once you understood that, Becky in geometry would have a rude awakening!

             BAM

You shriek as Mom throws a large magic book haphazardly on the table.

"Alexis, pay attention!" Her gaze is stern, yet there's love behind her eyes.

"Sorry!" You squeak out meekly.

Back in the present, you aren't concerned with frogs or Becky. Gross, she's somebody you'd rather not ruminate on.

You put old middle school rivalries out of your mind, taking a deep breath and reciting the movement repeatedly in your head. This would be risky, to say the least. As all amateur magic users knew, teleporting something or someone unseen was simply an impossibility. But, there is one other option. One you don't like all that much.

Closing your eyes, you enter into a trance that becomes easier to work into after the clench of your pelvis muscles, momentarily silencing Heather's fight. Suddenly, you're in a void, darkness coating you like a thick layer of paint. It's a familiar place, but not one you enjoy visiting often. It's cold, your disembodied consciousness somehow feeling it through the lack of nerve endings. It's an emotional cold, a distance that you find ethereal in feeling.

You steady your mind, years of training as a young apprentice under your mother's strict tutelage finally paying off as you quickly reach out to another realm, hooking into a presence. Your eyes fly open, Chris finally snared on your line. It's undeniably him!

First, you twirl an index finger to the left, drawing a diagonal line through the empty air and ending with a light tracing of your open palm. Carefully, you recite the chant in your mind, drawing on powers beyond your complete understanding. You focus hard, feeling Chris’ existence just as your grasp on him starts to slip. Fuck!

POP

There's an odd noise, almost like a suction cup coming undone. And suddenly, you lose it. The connection to the spell and the Other Side severing completely, you feel the link deep inside shatter. But all your effort is rewarded. Looking closely at your palm, you see an unmistakable peachy crumb right at the center. Shakily, it tries to stand before collapsing from what you can only gather is exhaustion, something you find very understandable after everything he's just gone through. Still, he’s here, and he’s safe! Thank god he's okay! A smile lights up across your similarly worn-down face.

You move towards your room, mind already racing, trying to think of a way to explain what he just experienced. Tapping into the Other Side was already an unpleasant experience, but being dragged through it? You shiver at the thought. Yet, that's precisely what he'd been subjected to, his entire soul being dragged through foggy otherworldly muck.

Carefully, you move towards your room, making sure the movement isn’t too jarring for your tired friend. He’s been through enough already, you figure. The very last thing either of you needs right now is for him to be vomiting everywhere. Strolling into your bedroom, you don’t bother with locking the door; your only reason to do so is now buried headfirst around the folds of your clit. Almost on cue, another rash of thrashing breaks out, your knees almost buckling on the spot.

“God, Heather, you're pretty feisty, aren't you? Always thought you were more of a pillow princess. Guess you have some fight, huh?” You remark snidely, lust creeping through despite your best intentions. Gently, you reach your free hand down and lightly trace her minuscule outline through your clothes before pushing her further into the throbbing button. This is turning out to be much more fun than you’d ever anticipated. Who would have thought your cute friend's innocent request for some ass would be so… empowering! 

 But, your little distraction aside, it's probably best to get Chris onto solid ground. Carefully, you head over to the area you’d become intimately familiar with, a slick black study desk with treated wood and a laptop currently pushed off towards the far corner. College textbooks line the edges, leaving only a tiny spot for actual coursework. It would have to do for the time being. Blowing some pencil dust off the space, you methodically let Chris slide down your palm onto the smooth desk below.

He rises, disoriented. Although, he seems okay! Something you’re immensely grateful for. He looks at you now, finally gaining his bearings. It's an expectant look you interpret as ‘please turn me back.’ However, it isn't that simple. You smile sheepishly because, unfortunately, that’s an impossibility. You scratch at the back of your neck nervously, trying to find the words to explain. 

With a deep breath, you shakily start to fumble through your best breakdown of the powers that are at play. “So, um, I had to pull you through, uh, don’t be mad, but the most basic interpretation is… hell?” You wince as his body language becomes volatile, and he explodes in a rash of movements that are frankly hard to discern beyond a vague, ‘not happy.’

“I'm not really strong enough to, um, cast anything over you while the Other Side has a grip.” You state meekly, prompting a fresh series of unhappy gestures.

“Listen, I’m sorry! But it's better than, I dunno, sitting on you or something!” You feel yourself getting defensive, and why shouldn’t you? He was the one that wanted this whole shrinking fantasy! He should be grateful you indulged him in any capacity! Whatever. Before you figure this whole mess out, you have to deal with Heather, first and foremost. Ignoring Chris for the moment, your hands slip down, prying the tight yogas from your body. The tiny little girl had kicked up a myriad of feelings, ones you fully intended to vent and explore.

                  One moment, you’re on the floor; the next, you feel vile, like something is tugging at your very essence as a person. It's a feeling you’d never wish on anybody. One that’s hard to endure and even harder to describe. The sensation is brief, but afterward, flashes of your worst nightmares are beamed directly into your head as you find your body suddenly gone. With no physical form, your consciousness floats in a cold soup. It lasts only a few seconds, but it's a feeling that will stick with you forever. Luckily, there's soon a familiar pull. The pull of someone you recognize. Someone with good intentions.

                   Your body is practically turned inside out, the violation sending you into a state of alert. You try to stand up, getting ready to fight for your life, but the strain is too much, and you collapse back down. Staring up, you see an unexpected but comforting gaze, Lexy’s. There’s a warmth to it, and you realize that she really does see you this time.

                    You could cry right now, your sense of both space and time fucked beyond semblance of rational explanation as you find yourself suddenly on the cold surface of treated wood. You feel… off. Something clings to not your skin, but the core of who you are.

“So, um, I had to pull you through, uh, don’t be mad, but the most basic interpretation is… Hell?” Her voice booms, the words themselves thankfully can be heard due to her sudden remembrance of volume control. But the words themselves shake you. Did she say Hell? What the fuck had she done to you? Is this why you felt so wrong?

You clench your fists, gesturing angrily, "What in the fuck do you mean?" No immediate response. Right, of course she can't hear you. You vent some rage with a raw scream, throwing your head up in the frustration of both today and all of last night.

“I'm not really strong enough to, um, cast anything over you while the Other Side has a grip.” You go numb, anger replaced with stillness and dread. 

You're stuck like this?