The night was damp from a day of rain and loud from numerous voices, many young adults maneuvering through the wet street quickly, eager to continue a Saturday night out on the town. The crowded street seemed to continue to erupt, a corner bar becoming increasingly unstable as the night dragged on.
The corner bar was filled with men and woman trying to have a good time, all the while, there sits a lone woman, a steady and grieving face about her. He is fairly pretty, with short brown hair and easy dark eyes. Her pale skin is seemingly drained, her soft hands resting beneath her stable chin. Turning toward the neon lights of the bar, bags are seen under her eyes. She turns away, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. On the outside, a tall woman wearing all black walks past, the woman sitting alone watching her move briskly past the window. The sitting woman stares, almost in awe of the woman walking, a longing look arriving. At the same time from the neon darkness outside, the woman in all black opens the door to the bar. The woman enters, looking around the crowded room. Her black hoodie and glasses block her head as she scans the bar, her eyes seemingly zeroing in on the sitting woman. The woman in all black moves forward, sliding into the seat across from the sitting woman. Nervously, the sitting woman stares, unsure of herself, her eyes flashing with distress. The woman in black reaches up, her slender hands and fingers sporting large black nails grabbing the frames of her glasses, taking them off and setting them down softly. With her right hand, the woman takes off the hood, revealing a head of our curly brown hair, a perfect fit for her now revealed light skin. The woman in black is clearly a Latina, one that is powerful and set, on that gets what she wants, whether she provides it or not. Her eyes are soft as well, but black and dangerous, and her nose is buttoned with a nose ring on the left side. Her lips are full and red, her lipstick perfectly applied. She smiles gently, flashing her perfectly straight and white teeth, trying to comfort the sitting woman.
“Hello…” The sitting woman starts. “I’m -
She is cut off by the woman in black.
The sitting woman’s anxiety grows, scared at the answer.
“Not for anything sinister,” the woman in black says, reassuring the sitting woman. “It just makes it so I can’t track you down afterward. I get paid, now. This is our only contact.”
The sitting woman nods.
“Relax.” The woman in black says.
She sits back, her skin shining beautifully in the neon light.
On the other hand, the sitting woman leans forward, wanting the woman in black’s attention.
“How does this work?” The sitting woman says. “Exactly?”
The woman in black smiles.
“Was my explanation given by our contact not clear?”
“It was, you meet him, you take him back, you shri-
“You can stop right there,” the woman in black says. “No need for this whole bar to know about this.”
The sitting woman looks around, staring in shock at the chaotic bar.
“I’m sure they aren’t listening.” The woman says.
“Someone is always listening.” The woman in black says.
The sitting woman shifts nervously, a look of momentary terror sweeping across her face.
“Are you having second thoughts about doing this? We don’t have to go this way.” The woman in black says, leaning forward.
“No, no, no… I just want to know if this is the right decision.”
“It’s not my place to say if it is or is not.”
The sitting woman shifts again, unsure of herself.
“I don’t know if this is right.”
“Again, that is not a question for me to answer. But it is effective. He won’t be able to bother or hurt you ever again.”
The woman thinks, but the words seem to be effective.
“Are you sure?”
“Damn sure.” The woman in black says, smiling kindly. But her eyes still spell something dark and cold. The kindness of her smile wins.
There is nothing left to be said. Freedom was what is offered for the woman. Which is what she wanted. The woman in black knows it, continuing.
“I just need the photo of him and your problem will be solved. Then I just need a few days to complete my work.”
The woman shifts again, this time to reach into her purse. She pulls out a single piece of paper: a picture. She looks at it sadly, before looking up at the woman in black.
“How will I know it’s done?”
“You will never see your husband again.” The woman in black responds, holding out her beautiful and manicured hand. The sitting woman slowly sets the picture down in the palm of the woman in black’s hand. The sitting woman then reaches back into her purse, pulling out a small envelope, sliding it across the table. The woman in black grabs it, opening it to see multiple large bills, having her thumb combing through it. She closes it and puts it in her pocket. She then inspects the picture, leaning into the neon light to see it clearly. The picture is that of the woman smiling with a good looking man, along with two young children. The woman in black then puts the picture in her pocket. There is another picture of just the man smiling behind it. The woman in black smiles, standing up and looking down.
“What’s this?” The woman in black says, looking at the back of the solo photograph.
“It’s where he goes to… you know.” The sitting woman says sadly.
The woman in black nods, understanding.
“Would you like this one back?” The woman in black says, setting the family photo back on the table.
“What for?” The sitting woman asks inquisitively.
“To remember why you are doing this.”
The sitting woman slowly reaches across the table, grabbing the picture.
“Thank you.” She says softly, the woman in black smiling down on her.
“You made the right choice.” She says before turning and walking away.
“I thought you said you couldn’t make that call?”
Standing for a moment, the woman in black turns around.
“It’s my job to make that call.”
With that, the woman exits the bar, leaving the pale woman alone.
The idea behind this mystery woman and her line of work was relatively new to the world. Compressing matter down to various sizes has always been on the minds of people or generations, some looking to advance science, others based on crazy fantasies. Needless to say, the formula that allowed for matter to undergo dramatic resizing had been a breakthrough, although limited in availability. Currently, at the present date, the only drawback was that of the inability to reverse it, hence it’s limited use. People hadn’t been tested, but some lab rats had undergone the process. It wasn’t much of a problem though, as the use of the chemical formula was used for storage and waste reduction. Overall, it was revolutionary. On top of that, no major crime groups had found a way to replicate the formula, so the dangers were minimal. Aside from the fact that this mystery woman made a considerable amount of money by shrinking people and disposing of them. She had a connection with a small chemical distribution chain, their lead product: you guessed it. Her connection was a former boyfriend, both of which reaped the benefits of their partnership. He made the juice in his college chemistry lab and she murdered guys who deserved it. This handsome man in the picture in her pocket could soon… fit in her pocket. The thought of size change really made her feel strange. She never really cared about the power she had. The thought crossed her mind though, especially holding a dangling man between her fingers, even her nail towering over them. It was nice and all, but she liked the money, as well as saving women from abusive relationships. This man she was to paid to exterminate was another in a long line of cheaters and wife beaters, all of which arriving at the same destination. The woman in black understood that fact, as she loved playing savior, and it was going to be another case of saving someone who couldn’t save themselves. She really did appreciate that aspect of her life. She thought about how she would do it, or when she would do it, and finally, what she would be having for dinner. There was a lot was on her mind.
The sun was setting on another uneventful day for Jonathan Wilson. He stared out the window of his apartment, looking down at the cars on the street. He is somewhat well built, a young skinny guy, who clearly spends sometime trying to look better. His apartment looked neat and ordered, almost like he cleans it up everyday. There is a fine leather couch and a nice glass table along with a large TV in front of both. Behind the living area is nice kitchen and kitchen island with barstools. Jonathan turns, sitting himself down on his couch. He reaches over, looking at his phone. His mind is racing, although there is no reason for this.
Overall, Jonathan was really upset. His job was one that he hated, despite the above average pay. There was just very little movement in his life. This, he felt, was his romantic life. He had never really invested in a serious relationship, one that provided him with comfort and stability. He had nothing to look forward after work, no one to be there when he got home. It hurt him deeply, especially considering all the work he had done to perfect himself and his life, yet he had no one to share it with. It was to the point where he would go out and just try to hook up, yet, as great as it was, sex was not a very good driving force behind his existence. He enjoyed it, sure, but he wanted an actually connection with a woman, something that could not be broken by an act of sexual pleasure.
It was proving hard to find.
Jonathan stood up from the couch and walked around, turning left down a long hall. There were two doors on both sides, one a bedroom, his bedroom, and the other his bathroom. He turns into the bedroom sharply, walking inside and seemingly getting ready. After a few minutes, he exits, wearing a well fitting black suit with no tie. He walks into the bathroom, looking in the mirror. There is a decent look about him, fitting the young and bashful handsomeness, yet there is still overwhelming sadness within him. He breaks a smile, only for it to fade. Another night trying to achieve the impossible. It is bound to work eventually. Right?
Jonathan walked into his usual bar, a place much calmer than the bar from earlier. It was leisured and fitting, with a higher class of society conversing. It was one of those places you write your name down on a name tag so people can greet you. It was easy, Jonathan figured. It was easy to walk up and pretend to read a name, which served as a great kickstarted, which he desperately needed. He would always write “Jon” as Jonathan was long and boring. He loved his name, but the woman he would frequent did not. So sacrifices had to be made. Shaving a few letters off his name wouldn’t hurt. It had worked sometimes, others, complete failure. He felt good though writing his name and sticking it on his chest, looking around at the woman at the bar. No options really at first glance. It was a waiting game, which he had learned. Jonathan made his way up to the bar, sitting down, the bartender approaching.
“Can I get some whiskey?” Jonathan asks.
The bartender nods, slowly turning and setting a glass down, immediately pouring some whiskey into glass and turning away.
“Thank you.” Jonathan says. He picks up the drink, taking a slight sip, wincing at the burn in his throat and then stomach. He looks around, hoping for something to jump out at him. From across the room, almost like a flash of lightning, a beautiful woman stands. She is tall and fit, wearing a well fitting black dress. She is absolutely stunning, light skin with curly brown hair hanging past her shoulders. He is very soft looking, almost as if she doesn’t belong at the bar. Jonathan makes eye contact with her, and they share a moment before Jonathan turns away, looking forward. Jonathan sighs, unsure how to approach the woman. Fate was on his side though as the woman walks up next to him. Jonathan turns, the woman now even more beautiful up close. She has lovely eyes and a nose ring, and full lips painted in a deep red. She is the woman in black, but now, much less threatening. Jonathan turns, attempting to begin.
“Hello…” Jonathan says.
The woman in black smiles, even her teeth perfect. Jonathan scans her chest, her large breasts pushing up against her dress. Although that was distracting within itself, it was not the focus of Jonathan’s search. The woman had no name tag, no indication of who she was. Meanwhile, the woman in black scans Jonathan’s chest, realizing the name “Jon” on his name tag. She smiles.
“Hello, Jon.” She says seductively.
“What’s your name?” Jonathan asks, hoping not to drive the woman away. “You don’t have a name tag.”
“Oh, I don’t do this name shit. Just a lame excuse at an icebreaker. This game requires something much more than starting basic conversation.” The woman says.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
The woman looks at Jonathan sternly, her eyes fluttering before becoming wide, a very sexy look for Jonathan.
Jon smiles, this being the first time this has ever happened to him. So he tried to play it cool.
“You seem to know a lot about it, which is good because I know nothing.”
The woman laughs.
“Why don’t you let me teach you something then, Jon?”
It was on.
Getting back to her place was easy enough Jonathan thought. They didn’t talk much, just this mystery woman he had met seemed to be really into him. More so than Jonathan had ever experienced. They got to her place shortly after leaving and she was into him. That is all Jonathan had on his mind. His mind shifted when he saw her place. It wasn’t as nice as his place, smaller and not as neat. In fact, the place looked like it had been tossed, like someone was looking for something and didn’t find it. Jonathan looked around, the woman noticing.
“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t have a chance to clean up before heading out.”
“Oh, it is fine. My place gets like this.” Jonathan says, lying.
The woman begins to walk down the hallway, smiling. Jonathan follows, seemingly preparing for intercourse. It still didn’t matter to him, but this woman was almost commanding him to care without saying it. Her body was like a firecracker, and, to be frank, Jonathan wanted to enter it. The thought was gross, but, when broken down, it was how he felt. He followed the woman’s ample ass down the hallway to her bedroom, which was much neater than the living space. She, without question, began to rip off Jonathan’s shirt.
It was moving fast, and before he knew it, Jonathan was on his back, and the woman was on top of him.
“Woah, can we slow it down a little?” He says, looking up at her.
The woman brushes her hair out of her face, her eyes somewhat angry. She looked great though, an erection forming for Jonathan, his penis betraying his brains thoughts. Despite his best efforts, Jonathan was losing the battle against himself.
“But I want it now.” The woman says, leaning down and kissing Jonathan’s neck.
“What happened to foreplay?”
“That was the car ride, stop talking.”
“We talked about the traffic, is that a kink I don’t know about?”
“No, now shut up and enjoy this. I said I wanted it and I’m going to get it.”
“But I don’t even know your name.” He says.
The woman doesn’t respond still moving forward.
“Please, I don’t know about this…” Jonathan says.
“Well I do, so quit whining. You wanted to learn something right? He is a free lesson is attraction, and pleasure.” The woman says, continuing to kiss Jonathan’s neck. Without anything else, Jonathan gave in, this woman in complete control. His erection essentially was throbbing, waiting for release.
On the other hand, the woman really wanted to get this over with. This guy was easy to swoon, a simple talk and he was ready to take his pants off. His trying to stop was new, but the woman didn’t care. This guy has this coming. He seemed younger though, but the names matched. It didn’t matter, she had the vial of the juice between her breasts already but she needed some time. She would probably just step on this guy and go to sleep after shrinking him but something was off. Nothing was going to help, so she just had to ask.
“How does it feel…”
Completely lost within himself, Jonathan’s eyes were closed and mouth open, the friction starting.
“Good…” Jonathan says, moaning softly.
“Let me finish. How does it feel to be a fucking pig?”
This stops Jonathan, who looks up at the woman.
“How does it feel, Jon?”
“How does it… what now?”
“How does it feel to be a fucking cheating, lying pig? To cheat on your wife? With children?”
This was shocking and confusing to Jonathan, who decided at that moment to shift. From between the woman’s breasts, the vial of the chemical concoction loosened, her tissue no longer pressing it together. The shift from Jonathan caused the vial to not only open, but slip, it spilling onto Jonathan’s face and chest.
The woman stops herself, everything happening so fast. One moment, she was unsure of herself and the mission with this guy. Then, he played dumb. Classic. Then, he moved. The formula spilled all over him, in his nose and mouth and on his chest. There was very little time to talk about how small he would become, much smaller than she was used to. The smallest for her was four inches, which was about two drops of the formula. This guy just ingested five, with more on his chest. The clock was ticking. So, she tried to get the rest of her monologue out.
“You are cheating on your wife. You have been for sometime. I was going to wait, but this is your punishment.” The woman says, smirking.
She won, getting the words out before Jonathan shrank. Jonathan was still confused, looking strangely at the insanely attractive woman sitting on his lap.
“But… I’m not married.” Jonathan says trying to wipe his face off. He inspects it, unsure of the substance on his face and chest. “What the hell is this stuff?”