Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Every day, the same routine. Wake up, force breakfast into your mouth, shower, brush your teeth, miss the bus, catch the next one, enter data for eight hours, miss the bus again, catch the next one, go home, force yourself to eat something bland and microwavable, drink, pass out, repeat. You feel your life passing by in a haze, but don’t know how to stop it.

Work feels like it takes forever, while your down time just slips away. Before you know it, you are up way too late, gaming or watching something. And the window for a good night sleep has been shut. Quarantine had been nice. Not having to go into the office and spend most of your time pretending to do work.

            But now, you’ve been forced back into the office. The only highlight, is this cute, twink guy  started riding your bus route. Skinny, pale, not too short or too tall. He has strong cheekbones and wavy, dark hair. You see him every day, wearing a name tag that says, “Will,” but normally don’t know what to say to him.

But today, as you got on the bus, you notice his name tag is attached to a Star Trek shirt. This is something you can work with. So, you sit down next to him.

“Do you watch the Orville?” You ask.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Will says.

“How do you, um, uh, how do you like the new season?”

“It’s really great! definitely worth the wait!”

You beam at him. Fortune favors you and he beams back. After a bit of chit chat, the bus CACHUNKs to a stop.

“This is me,” Will says, getting up.

You consider going with him. You can always double back to the bus and be a little late for work. But you decide that’d be too much. Don’t want to come on to strong.

“See you around,” you say, trying to play it cool.

Will gives a wave and you sink into your seat, greeted by a feeling of contentment. You see him again, on your way home. And then again, the next morning. You find a week as passed, and you’ve spent it chatting with Will. Getting to look into his kind, brown eyes. Feeling the type of connection, your life has been missing. The desire to have booze keep you company at night, gets a little less strong.

After the second week of this, Will says, “give me your number, so I can text you,” before getting off at his stop. You spend that day at work, texting with him. His optimistic take on everything is great.

“I know, their stuff hasn’t been as strong lately. But their track record is pretty good, I’m sure the next phase will be better,” he texts, as you eschew work, to talk with him about Marvel.

On your way to the bus stop, you think you see a pair of familiar, green eyes. You feel like you’re being watched. But you shrug it off. This is the third time in two weeks, you’ve had this feeling. It’s probably just a manifestation of the anxiety and nerves you feel about Will. When you get back on the bus, the two of you pick up right where you left off, in your texts. You talk for a while.

Finally, you say, “do you want to get dinner, tonight?”

You worry this sounds too eager, so you add, “or whenever? Or not?”

Will chuckles, “yeah, tonight sounds great.”

You light up, “great. I know this awesome Thai place we can go to!”

“Looking forward to it!”

You take the time to get ready and really make yourself look good. You grab your most flattering outfit. The thought of how baggy it would be on Will makes you laugh. He’s so cute! You even spring for a Lyft, so you don’t have that bus smell. Something you later realize was probably not necessary, given where you met Will. Finally, you arrive at Third Street Thai.

You and Will take a table in the back. The conversation is electric and you feel truly present. Something you normally have difficulty doing. That is, until you see a curvy woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her denim skirt and red Dunder-Mifflin shirt, complement her moderately tanned skin. She is not like Will, with his rail-thin physique. She allows her body to have some heft, fitting the beauty standards more akin to a bygone era. Her eyes are a stunning green color. She makes eye contact with you, then dashes off with her take out.

“I think I just saw my ex,” you blurt out.

“The girl that just ran off?”

“Yeah. She and I, I mean,” you pause, worried you’re about to overshare, “we dated our last semester in college. She ended up turning down a pretty sweet gig somewhere else, to come live here with me.”

“But you ended up breaking up?” Will asks.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Well, that does suck, but these things happen. It’s part of life. I’m sure she’s over it.”

You ruminate on this, “I guess. It’s been like three years, anyway. But, I still feel pretty bad about it.”

There is a pause and some lingering awkwardness. But, it soon passes and you and Will are back to your lively conversation. Standing outside the restaurant after dinner, you lean in for a kiss. He kisses you back, and you feel his affection. As well as a sense of connection and closeness. You travel down a nearby walking and biking path. There’s just the right number of lampposts, to illuminate you and your charming, twink companion.

Holding Will’s hand, you feel safe. And can tell he feels the same way, holding yours. There’s a rustling in the bushes. You and Will turn around to see your ex, standing behind you. At first you simply feel startled. This is followed by a strong sense of unease. There is a flash of green and when it dissipates, everything around you is much larger. And you realize you and Will are naked!

Will’s naked body, is the boney, pale beauty you always imagined it to be. It would be a wonderful sight to see, if you were not disoriented and terrified. Megan’s face always had a regal, elf-like quality to it. As though she was a magical, forest being. One who got enough sun, for a light tan. Her elfy, cute face, looks down at the two of you, from the mountain that is her body. She squats and her enormous, voluptuous body jiggles.

Starring directly at you, at you she says, “hey, dip shit.”

You and Will embrace each other and tremble at the booming, thunder-like echo of her voice.

Shifting her focus to Will she says with a smile, “well, hello my new tiny friend, I’m Megan. What’s your name?”

“It’s Will!” he shouts.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Megan says, “oh wait, did you say your name wasn’t important? That neither of your names are important? Because you’re mine now, so it doesn’t matter anymore? That must be what you said, since nothing else would be true.”  

She grabs the two of you, in what could easily be mistaken for tree trunks. Light glistens off her nails. Half are painted crimson and the other are painted black, in solid colors on, alternating fingers. The heat of her body radiates against you. The pressure of her grip, makes you think you’re going to burst in a gooey mess. You can see every bit of peach fuzz. And the smells of her perfume, skin and sweat, all assault you.

She brings you up to her lips, coated in with lipstick, matching her crimson nails. It’s smeared on the skin around her mouth and caught by her peach fuzz. She opens her lips, hitting the two of you with a blast of heat and humidity. Megan’s breath reeks of pad Thai and garlic. You can see how slimy her tongue is. And the chords of saliva, draped from her pallet to behind her bottom row of teeth.

“You know, I’d say about half the time when I shrink someone, I just,” Megan swallows air, and you watch her trace a bulge in her throat, with her finger, “but I think this is the other half. The half of times when I have some fun first.”

Her sinister tone in no way suggests what she has planned, will be the least bit, “fun.” The sound of her voice is even more intense up close. Your ears throb. You and Will both scream incoherently. The situation is too jarring for either of  you to form words. Her talking produces a rancid, hurricane blasts, of humid air.  Your voice is already getting hoarse from all the screaming and gaging. You scream even louder, which you didn’t even know as possible.

There is a rush of air, as the two of you are brought up to her abdomen. She dangles you over her open waistband. Writhing and crying, you plead with her to let you go. Nothing she’s said or done would suggest, she cares. And at your size, there’s no way she could hear you, all the way down there. The “GGrrhHRGghHHh” from her stomach, more than negates any noise you make. This sound paralyses you in fear.

She laughs at your reaction, “I suggest you get back to moving around, where you’re going.”

You continue staring transfixed at her pudgy abdomen, as she releases her grip and you fall into her purple panties. Your whole body is pressed up against her sweaty, leaky, labia lips. You reach for Will, as he reaches for you. The two of you huddle together, your vision still zeroed-in on her belly. Megan SNAPS her waistband closed.

The panties holding you in place, keep all light from getting in. Fear causes you to breath deep, really inhaling the salty, fishy smell, of her enormous vagina. Her thick thighs rub up against each other. The upper thighs in your plain of vison are pale, untouched and untanned by the sun. Their movement push you harder into her cunt. Spitting out a curly, blonde pube, you think back to the circumstances that brought you here. You stare at Will.

“I’m sorry, I uh…” you start.

“Unless you knew she could do this, it’s not your fault,” Will says.

“I had no idea,” you say, in total honesty.

Will puts his hand on your face. Even though it’s covered in Megan’s fluids and sweat, the gesture is still comforting. The two of you pass out from shock, huddled together. The boom of Megan’s voice wakes you up.

“’Eh bitch, you home?”

There is a long silence, followed by, “okay, good.”

There’s another pause, the sound of something hitting the floor, then Megan’s enormous fingers come down and snatch the two of you up. She is wearing a tight, worn out, chocolate brown bra. You and Will are shoved into her soft, warm cleavage. The pale, underside of her boobs, contrasts with the light tan, that the rest of her skin has. Under other circumstances, this could’ve been very enjoyable. But as it is, it was more like being assaulted be a jiggly hill.

“I want to be able to give you the tour.”

She bends down to pick up her shirt. Will almost falls out of her sweaty cleavage. You grab his arm and use all your strength to pull him back in. Her, soft, warm, breasts, knock against you and Will, with every step. The overbearing hills of her boobs, collide with you and Will, squeezing and compressed you together. The effect is even more intense, as she goes up the stairs. Megan unlocks the door to her bedroom and her booming footsteps, bring her over to a bookcase, covered by a sheet.

She stands in front of it and shimmies out of her denim skirt. Waves of flesh hit you and dance around you, as the soft mountain of her body jiggles from this movement. When Megan reaches down to remove her panties, it’s Will’s turn, to save you from falling. The bookshelf is filled with jars. Inside each jar is between 1-5 other, shrunken people. She pinches you out of her cleavage and places the two of you on the top shelf of her bookcase. With a loud SNAP she removes her bra.

Megan reaches down and grabs one of the jars. You can see there are three, shrunken people, all shaking in fear. Megan opens wide and turns the jar upside, over her mouth. One of them hangs on the rim of the jar. The other two tiny people land, on her tongue with a shallow, SQUELCH sound. She closes her lips and with a GLUCK you see mass go down her throat. Megan traces it with her finger.

The other tiny hangs off the jar, screaming in terror. Megan’s tongue slithers out of her mouth and easily captures its prize. You tremble in shock and terror, as you watch another bulge go down her throat. She places the jar at the edge of the bookcase. Her enormous hand swoops down and slides the two of you into it. In an instant, you go from feeling the warmth of her hand, to the coldness of the glass jar.
            She SLAMS the jar down on the bookcase.

“Take a good look around that jar. Did you look around? Good. The tour begins and ends there. That’s where you live, now.”

You and Will hold each other close and the two of you pass out…