Carey’s narrative continued for Amy’s benefit, but for reader simplicity, it is presented here as a flashback with the dialogue intact.
“How many have you eaten?” asked Ivan.
“I only ever caught one, along with two girls, but I let them go,” said his girlfriend’s mother, “My mother lives not far from here, and she’s cut down their male line a lot in this generation. She’s been very successful in diving for them with nets and then eating them on the rocks when nobody’s around.”
“No wonder they needed me to partner with,” said Ivan, “But I’m in love with your daughter and I’d never leave her for them.”
“You’re very sweet, and she’s been lucky to have spent these last few months with you,” said the mother, “But you do realise that you’ve taken on the flavour and characteristics of the Ocean Mites. If my daughter knew about it, she would undoubtedly want you for her first Ocean Mite meal, regardless of whatever you two have felt for each other up until now. I won’t let her find out what’s happened to you though.”
“Thank you,” said Ivan, not sure if it was such a good thing.
“I should really thank you,” said the mother, “I have a friend coming over for morning tea, but after she’s gone, I’m going to eat you myself.”
“Really?” asked Ivan.
“You’re in exactly the same boat as the Ocean Mites now. Nobody else knows about you, and you taste the same as they do.”
“Well I’m not in any position to say no, and your mouth looks nice like your daughter’s. So I won’t give you any attitude about it. I’ll just have to go to your belly without her ever finding out.”
“Thanks for being so sweet about it,” she said, “I’ll be as nice as I can about swallowing you too.”
She took him inside and emptied a large bag of chips into a low bowl, picked him up and lowered him into an open half used box of tissues.
“You can lie softly on them until Carey’s gone,” said the mother and then heard the doorbell ring.
While his girlfriend’s mom answered the door, Ivan quickly climbed out of the tissue box and into the bowl. He hid himself beneath the chips and waited until his captor took the chips to the table. He remained concealed as each woman occasionally took a chip from the bowl and munched on it.
“I just want to check on something in the kitchen,” said the mother at last, and left the room.
Ivan quickly revealed himself and hurriedly explained his entire situation and everything he’d learned, to Carey. In fact it was this explanation, which had given Carey the knowledge that she was now sharing in the present with Amy and the Marine Musician.
Carey concealed Ivan in her pocket and waited for the mother to return, guessing correctly that the woman had gone to see how Ivan was feeling and found him missing and tried unsuccessfully to find and recapture him. As long as she didn’t guess that he had hidden in the chips, their ruse would work.
The mother soon came back looking slightly perturbed.
“I’ve lost something important in the kitchen, and I really need to concentrate to find it,” she said, “Will you be able to see yourself out, Carey?”
“Sure, I understand,” said Carey, who understood better than the mother realised.
Carey took Ivan back to her shop and put him on the table.
“I don’t know what to do now,” said Ivan, “Both my girlfriend and her mother would want to eat me.”
“You’ll have to flee far into the ocean,” said Carey, “The mother knows of your shrunken existence, and she’ll never stop hunting you. The daughter would be just as enthusiastic.”
“I’ll spend the rest of my life in love with a girl I can never see again,” said Ivan.
“Not if I made you forget her, and you fell for an Ocean Mite instead,” said Carey, and took out a large blue gem from the desk drawer, “This is the Sea Sapphire. With it I can hypnotize you into forgetting that you were ever a normal sized human, and forgetting that you ever dated a normal sized human. As far as you’ll know, you’ll be another Ocean Mite, capable of falling in love with one of them.”
“Please do it,” said Ivan, and she went ahead.
Carey took him to the edge of the sea, and set him down in the water. He watched her turn and walk back up the beach, and then dived into the new life which awaited him, free of a broken heart.
The present day Carey concluded her story for Amy and the Marine Musician.
“I think I understand why you told me that story,” said Amy, “This little guy and I are like Ivan and that other girl.”
Carey took out the Sea Sapphire and showed it to them.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, as Amy and the Marine Musician gazed into its brilliance.
“Yes … yes! I remember now,” said Amy, “I was that 14 year old girl! So if I hadn’t found the Marine Musician and eaten him, then my Mom surely would have! Thank you. I don’t feel so bad now. You must have used the Sea Sapphire to make me forget Ivan as well, Carey.”
“It’s true. And you, little man, found a Calling Shell first, before you met Amy, lived in it, and were able to rescued by it,” said Carey to the Marine Musician, “But your greatest achievement might have been teaching yourself to sing in it. Can the Sea Sapphire do anything to enhance your thoughts, little man?”
“I remember too! I’m Ivan!” said the Marine Musician, “No wonder I never met and fell in love with any more Ocean Mites. Subconsciously I must have always been missing Amy, even though I’d forgotten her.”
“I dated other guys after that, but never fell deeply in love enough to marry one even as an adult,” said Amy, “I think it’s partly because I always subconsciously missed Ivan too, and partly because I knew something else was missing. I was yet to discover my own little Ocean Mite and eat him, even if he was a human once.”
“How do you feel now, Ivan?” asked Carey.
“Shell shocked, if you’ll pardon the pun,” said Ivan, “If Mrs L had eaten me before I found the Calling Shell, then Amy and I would never have had this reunion today. I’m so glad to see you again and remember you, Amy.”
“If I could have eaten you forever, I would have,” said Amy, “I don’t know if I should just pick up where we were as 14 year olds.”
“I don’t mind that you wanted to do that. I love you, Amy. I think we were meant to be together, and were kept away from each other for years, because we let things be decided by a painful problem outside of our control. I wish I’d kept my memory of you, so that I could come back once the Calling Shell had made me safe from your belly’s more lasting effects. You won’t be able to find more male Ocean Mites easily, but you can eat me as many times as you like, and I’ll always be OK in the end. So you don’t need to feel bad.”
“I suppose that’s a really good thing,” said Amy, “But your problem was only outside of your control. If I had found and caught you when we were 14, I would still have been able to decide whether we went on dating or whether you went down the hatch, and you know exactly what I would have decided.”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t do it now, but if you don’t want me, then I want Carey and the Sea Sapphire to make me forget again. It’s too painful knowing about you if I can’t be with you.”
“And you’d really be happy to be an endless supply of undigested meals for me?”
“Of course I would. Even if your Mom ever found me and ate me, I’d still get safely back to the shell.”
“Let’s go home,” said Amy.
“I’ll tell nobody,” said Carey.
Amy took Ivan to her own home, with the knowledge that her Mom still lived close by, and then put the shell down on the floor.
“I’m really touched by your devotion to me,” she said, placing him on a stool to look at her, “But you’ve overlooked one thing.”
She jumped into the air, and brought her full body weight down, stamping both feet hard onto the shell. He instantly understood her reasoning. With the shell destroyed, he would be at the mercy of her belly with no round trip available.
But the shell wouldn’t break.
“It’s indestructible,” he said, “And it still works.”
“Let’s put it to the test,” said Amy, and she suddenly picked him up and dropped him into her mouth and swallowed him without taking any time to enjoy the taste.
He soon emerged from the shell and smiled up at her.
“I guess you’re stuck with me,” he said, “I know I still want to be stuck with you.”
The next time the beach was deserted, Amy took him down and let him have a head start in the water. He dived in and swam out and into the depths. Soon he saw the beautiful Surfergirl diving in after him, with a phenomenal size advantage, and yet no ability to breathe. He knew that she could gulp in a volume of air, which much exceeded the space occupied by his own body. She pursued him underwater until she caught him, and then took him home and ate him.
They played this game on several occasions, and he became more adept at using seaweed and other underwater growths to evade her for a while. In the end, he enjoyed being caught and teased and eaten.
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove, USA….
In the central hall of a large privately owned building in an isolated cove, a mannequin burned. It was in fact, a life size effigy of a child. Six of the most evil, demon-possessed men in the world looked on in pleasure, while their symbolic child sacrifice ritual continued and concluded … until the mannequin was nothing more than ashes.
Judas Galt, Farik See, Rowan Solja, Leon Denn, Mark Beeste and Pappy Romanov were the six richest men in the world. They were the current membership of the Sons of Molech, a cult which had existed for at least a hundred years. They had modelled their ritual of sacrificing child mannequins in the fire, by copying the ancient forbidden practice of sacrificing real children to the pagan false god Molech back in the Old Testament Bible times of human history.
In the 20th Century, the Sons of Molech had been successful in replacing their membership with new heirs, whenever one of their limited number died of old age, so that they always had a core membership of six people: Six men who literally, behind the scenes, ran the entire world. Ultimately their plans could not prevail against an all powerful God who created the world in the first place, but these men, like the demons who’d gain influence over the souls decades ago, chose to ignore that reality, and create their own.
They had amassed an incalculable fortune between them, bribed and bought senior government officials and even perhaps corrupted some of the world leaders themselves. They had engineered economic crises, syphoning much of the wealth of the middle class into their own private coffers. They had inaugurated wars using false flag operations to stir the public into blind unreasoning action, and had continued to go undetected by almost all of the populace. They had controlled the mainstream media, making their existence almost impossible to detect, and had gone on unpunished, while the victims of their wide scale enterprises had suffered beyond measure.
The Sons of Molech were also the global crime cartel behind any current activities of Red Moll. Their agents in Australia had been quick to learn of Red Moll’s existence and to co-opt her into their employ. Her perfume gambit and other tactics detailed in earlier chapters had all been done at the instigation of the Sons of Molech, who actually had no interest in the welfare of women, but had created the feminist movement as a way to destroy the family unit and undermine relationships and cause unworkable office politics in people’s daily vocational situations.
After revelling in the sight of the child mannequin’s ashes a little longer, Judas Galt called their latest meeting to order.
“Gentlemen, in the last four years we have come closer than ever before to meeting our ultimate goal. We have staged the September 11th 2001 World Trade Centre disaster successfully framing so called foreign terrorists. From this, we’ve stirred the people of America into war with other countries, we’ve been able to bypass and even alter the legal system, enabling warrantless searches, torture and detention of suspects … and we’ve even begun to dismantle the Constitution to the point of removing civil liberties. Mr Romanov, can you tell us how things are proceeding with the latest phase in our plan for world domination?”
“We have successfully created a belief in false causes of Global Warming. With this in mind, we can work towards a new world order. We can bring in new taxes on carbon emissions, making businesses cost prohibitive to run, transferring even more wealth away from the middle class,” said Pappy Romanov.
“And finally, when the people have given up most of their freedom in the name of protecting themselves, when we’ve programmed everyone in the world with deceptive movie plots and post 9/11 homages, when we’ve bankrupted every economy in the world, we will move in with our own fortune, call in their debts and take over every country in the world, round up the dissenters and imprison and even kill them. Hitler never went far enough, and left too many people convinced he’d lost the plot. We on the other hand are writing the plot. You’ve done well, Mr Romanov,” said Judas.
And in that moment, five members of the Sons of Molech watched Pappy Romanov rapidly shrink out of sight.
September 1st, 2001…
Since a good story can’t be all gloom and doom, we now digress into a new plotline of a more romantic nature.
Louise Waters washed her hair, dried herself off, put on her loveliest dress and drove to the Flying Wild restaurant in the summit of one of the tallest buildings in New York. She looked around eagerly, until she saw a familiar face. It was a face that she had only seen in a photograph on a dating site, but had instantly come to like. The guy was even featured, well dressed, and had an air of gentility: just her type.
Looking radiant with elegance, she walked over to him.
“Evan?” she said.
“Does reality do justice to the photograph?” he asked.
“I’m not disappointed at all,” said Louise.
Evan Chully kissed her cheek and led her to a table by the window, with a panoramic view of New York below them. Louise Waters smiled in appreciation. In fact, her name was Bea Louise Waters, but the Bea had seemed too old fashioned. So she usually dropped it in favour of her middle name, occasionally referring to herself by the compromise of B Louise Waters, inspired, she admitted by the author L Frank Baum.
They talked about their careers, their past dating experiences, and the things about New York which excited them the most. Louise had not been drinking, and noticed that Evan hadn’t either. Yet she found that he was loosening up as he got to know her, losing his inhibitions and speaking more openly, more boldly in fact. Eventually he said something which, on a first date, might well have turned most women off.
“I’d love to remove all your garments slowly and give you a nightcap in my spa,” said Evan.
“Is that your goal in all this?” asked Louise, betraying no emotional reaction one way or the other.
“Not so much a goal as a fantasy,” said Evan.
“Now that the subject of fantasies has come up, I’d like to tell you something straight up about mine. If I could shrink you down to tiny size and swallow you whole, I would,” said Louise.
Evan sat there in unqualified silence.
“It’s not your average run of the mill fantasy, is it?” asked Louise at last.
“I can’t say I’ve heard it before,” said Evan, and looked down at his watch, “Still it was interesting to meet you, and get to know you this evening. I guess I’d better get the bill now, so we can both get some sleep before work tomorrow.”
“Another one gone,” thought Louise, as she made her way home, “To think he’s never heard of the women with the gts gene and the men with the shrinking gene, not to mention their sometimes mutual fantasies. I just haven’t been able to meet one of THOSE guys at all, let alone one I’d like. But who am I kidding? As if I’ll ever find an available guy who wants to be eaten. They’d already be paired up with giantesses who want to do it. It’s so unfair that I don’t have the gts gene, and yet I do have the giantess vore desires. Not that it would hurt the little guys going down. They show no appreciation for the trouble I’d go to in reducing their size first.”
She had had so many first dates, all of which had ended with that precarious announcement of her fantasy. She knew the causality well enough, but she lived for two moments: the one she had yet to experience, when a first date guy would by some miracle respond positively to her declaration of desire to dine on him; and the one she experienced almost invariably which was the look of stunned surprise on the face of each guy as she told him what she wanted to do.
There was time enough to look again, before she went to bed. She hopped onto the internet and browsed the recently joined new members of the dating sites she frequented, until she saw a profile name which had her licking her lips with longing:
Shrunknguy!
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove…
“What the-?”
“He’s just plain gone!”
“Can our masters have turned on us?”
“I thought they took control for our own good,” said Leon Denn.
The Sons of Molech were in confusion and despair as to why their demons had allowed one of their number to rapidly dwindle, apparently out of existence.
Actually he hadn’t. Pappy Romanov was now living on a sub-molecular structure, which to him was as large as an entire planet.
“It just doesn’t make any sense,” said Farik.
“That I infiltrated your organisation, that I found your headquarters, or that I cut one of you down to size?” came a voice.
The five remaining Sons of Molech could see nobody. Apparently whoever had exhibited the power to shrink a man to nothingness had also proven to have mastered invisibility.
“All of the above!” yelled Rowan, “Who the hell are you?”
“That’s the last thing you’ll learn from me,” said the voice, “How I found you is the first. You may control the mainstream media, but the underground media has produced videos about your little sicko society for years. With my powers, getting to your lower aides and forcing them to talk was hardly a challenge. You mentioned hell, Mr Rowan. You might well die there one day, but for now, you’re going somewhere else. I don’t know if you’ll meet your missing friend, but if you do, say hello, and tell him to expect company.”
With that, Rowan Solja also shrank out of sight until even his screams of terror could no longer be heard.
“An irony, given the fake war on terrorism you had the government start up,” said the mysterious voice.
Whatever power was used to create the shrinking effect, it too was apparently invisible.
September 1st, 2001…
It was obvious to Louise, that the man on the dating site had chosen the name Shrunkenguy to draw attention to something, but had been restricted by the number of alphanumeric characters allowed by the site’s profile name policy. He had simply dropped an e and settled for Shrunknguy. She read his profile, and a certain paragraph in particular.
“I’m into giantess vore and looking for that rare and special girl who is too,” said the profile.
“Giantess vore?” thought Louise, “Could that be …?”
She had seen the word vore incorporated into ‘carnivore’ and ‘herbivore’ in her studies of animals in high school science classes. Surely the word on its own could refer to nothing else but eating. Surely it could not refer to the idea of eating a giantess, which would no doubt prove difficult. The only logical and desirable assumption for Louise was that this could be the guy she’d only dreamt of meeting: the guy who actually wanted to be eaten by a giantess.
“Perhaps I should test the Waters,” she said aloud, and giggled at her own pun.
She sent him a private message, which was brief and to the point.
“You look delicious, Cutey. You’re now officially on my menu.”
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove…
“Fire at the direction of that voice!” said Judas Galt, drawing his own gun to lead by example.
Four men emptied the chambers of their guns into the wall.
“Missed,” said the voice.
“Whoever betrayed our code of secrecy will die for this!” said Mark Beeste.
“Except you’d be out of bullets to do the job with,” said the voice.
It was the last thing that Mark ever heard, since he too now shrank out sight and sound.
September 3rd, 2001…
To her delight, Louise Waters found a reply from Shrunknguy:
“Are you serious? Do you want that as well, or are you just saying it to help my dream along?”
She quickly wrote back:
“I’ve never been more serious about anything else. I find it turns guys right off. I just didn’t imagine I’d meet someone who was not only into the idea but brave enough to put it out there on the internet for me to read. Do you find it turns girls off too?”
September 4th, 2001…
“I don’t get many responses to my contact requests, and they’re usually just brief dismissals, although one girl tried to get me to go for a normal relationship and discard my fantasy. You’re the only other girl that’s contacted me, and the only one whom I’d really like to be with. It’s like we’re made for each other. Did you ever think you’d meet a guy like me?” wrote Shrunknboy, “By the way, my name’s Phil Hermuth, and here’s my email address so we can write off the dating site if you like:…”
Louise wrote back:
“I’m Louise Waters, and it’s funny that you should ask if I ever thought I’d meet someone like you. The night before I found your profile, I went to bed and had two dreams. In one I became a giantess and met a cute guy who asked me to take a picture of me holding him gently in my hand. In the next one, I dreamt I became a giantess and saved a guy from drowning deep in the harbour, and then he said he liked my tongue and asked me to put him in my mouth. I really enjoyed that one, but I don’t think he had any idea that I was thinking of gulping him down. Looking back, it seems as though that explosion of sudden dreams about it were a sign that I’d soon meet the right guy to do it with. Can I ask you a deep and personal question though. Would you actually want to be shrunken and eaten by me. I can assure you it would be a very permanent and inescapable fate. There are a few younger clerks in my workplace that I’d like to gobble whole, but not as much as a handsome guy like you.”
September 5th 2001…
Louise waited patiently, but there was no reply from Phil at all that day. Nothing else mattered now but to hear from this delightful guy who seemed to be the very counterpart of her own identity. He was the piece of the puzzle that slotted into the very puzzle that made up Louise Waters, or more aptly, he would slot into her mouth, if reduced.
“I’ve blown it,” she thought despondently, “I was too forward about it, even for a special guy like him. I would have to write ‘permanent and inescapable fate’, wouldn’t I? Could I not have simply written something a little more euphemistic, like ‘unusual and lasting outcome’?”
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove…
“We could come to a profitable arrangement with you, you know,” said Farik See.
“So you think you can deal with me now, do you?” asked the voice, “To someone who can do what I can do, what would the petty achievements of your criminal cartel be able to offer?”
“We’re rich enough to write million dollar cheques every day for the rest of our lives,” said Farik, “You could have the whole damn world in your own Swiss bank account.”
“You genocidal bastards!” said the voice, “I doubt that dollars are the currency where you’re going.”
Farik was the next to suffer disappearance by shrinking.
September 6th 2001…
Blissfully unaware of the fate that would await six global crime masters in less than four years time, Louise Waters’ mind was very much on Phil Hermuth, as she waited in hope for his next reply. Nothing else would bring her days to life now. For so long she had considered a guy like Phil to be nothing more than a fantasy. Now he was at least a name and a face in cyberspace, and how she longed for him to be so much more … or after reduction: so much less.
At last, to her joy and considerable relief his reply finally came.
“Darling Louise, I’m sorry for the delay in returning your fascinating email with all its delightfully scary questions. I was sick with indigestion last night and went straight to bed, finding it hard to sit up straight and go on the computer. I’m fine now. To answer your question, I think I would love to be eaten by you, if I could go out with you first, both as a normal sized guy in the usual cuddly and kissy way, and then as a shrunken guy. So if you would be willing to let us do things that way, then yes, I really would like to be actually eaten by you. Is this what you literally want too, or would it just be role play even if you could shrink me?”
What a question, she thought, and could hardly wait to answer it.
“I think I’d love to date a handsome guy like you in the manner you suggest, both at your full size and then after shrinking you … just so long as you knew where you’d be going in a few days. And can I say that I’m sure you wouldn’t make ME sick with indigestion. I’d be friendly and affectionate, and give you all the love you’d ever want, but I’d certainly eat you in the end.”
September 7th, 2001…
“I wouldn’t mind being eaten in the least if you did everything as you described first,” wrote Phil, “I have thought of one more part to the fantasy though, which I hope you wouldn’t mind enacting for me first. I’d really like you to put on a long feminine dress, with short sleeves and a reach to a few inches below your knees, and chase me through a garden and catch me and cook me first, just enough to warm me up without burning me of course, maybe in a nice pavlova you could then eat around me. Oh how I can imagine watching that pavlova being spooned onto your tongue and going down your throat, knowing that it would not be long before I was next. I’d love to see you licking the spoon each time too. Would you mind factoring those scenes into the voreplay?”
Louise wrote back:
“Your vore-ography of every scene is so creative and sweet! I’d love to do all that, although I don’t have a garden in the apartment block where I live at the moment. I would try to move into one for the purpose of chasing and eating you though. You are seriously lucky I don’t have you in my clutches. If I ever did meet you in person and shrank you, I probably could not stop myself from eating you, although I might miss you a little afterwards.”
September 8th, 2001…
“Dear Gorgeous Louise,” wrote Phil, “Your thrilling emails are driving me wild with wishes, longing and expectation. If only it was possible for you to go ahead with it. The closest I’ve ever come to meeting a girl who would shrink and eat me was some psycho girl I met on datebook who was inspired by Jack the Ripper. Our urges were incompatible and I wondered just how far she’d take it if she ever learned where I live. You’re the real deal and I’m in love with you because of it. Have the best day possible until you have time to write to me again. Love, Phil.”
Louise wrote back:
“That other girl sounds a lot different from me. You’d be safe enough if we met for a date. Of course, if you were reduced, I could offer no such guarantees. But even then I wouldn’t hurt you. I’d just do everything we’ve written about and then gobble you down, which would make me very happy. The way you write to me, I really believe you when you say it would make you happy at that point as well. Even the very idea of calling me gorgeous and romancing me in the same correspondence that we’ve used to talk enthusiastically about the subject of me eating you is … Well the whole thing just seems so surreal and incongruous. Sometimes I don’t know what to say to you next. I wonder what part of the world you live in. If it were France, I’d want to think of you as cuisine Francaise, but then if it were jolly old England, you might be my high tea, or low tea after I’d shrunken you.”
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove, USA…
“We’ve got a database that’s gathered more information than most of the internet,” said Leon, “It’s all on our computers. Since we never thought this place could be found, we don’t even have passwords. It’s all yours if you spare us.”
“If it has no passwords, I don’t think I’ll need to spare you,” said the voice, and Leon Denn was shrunken out of existence.”
September 9th, 2001…
“Dear adorable Louise,” wrote Phil, “I’ve been daydreaming of being eaten by a giantess ever since I was a kid. It’s my greatest longing ever, and always has been. Only you can understand what it was like for me to feel both excitement and frustration every time I saw a woman licking an ice cream, spooning food into her mouth … or for that matter even opening her mouth wide in conversation or licking her lips casually as some of them do frequently while talking. Those mouths just seemed to be going to waste, and I knew none of them would ever be interested in eating me, until you came along.”
“I’d love to eat you all up, you sweet little darling man!” wrote Louise, “In fact, I’ve got a proposition to make to you, but I want you to know all the facts first, before you give me your answer. I’ve always dated guys that I thought would taste nice after shrinking, the ones that look handsome and cute. You’re the first one that would be willing to go along with the idea. After I’d been out with you and shrunken you, I’d keep you in a cage in my bedroom, or perhaps in my kitchen where you could think about what was coming up in that room and the dining room. I’d be nice and have fun with you right up until the night I ate you. What do you think of that, before I tell you about my proposition, little man? Oh and whereabouts are you anyway? I’ll need to know where to buy that garden nearby if I’m going to chase you through it.”
February 2005, Boatstreamingin Cove, USA…
“One of you asked who I was,” said the voice, “I’m someone whose life, hopes and dreams were destroyed by you less than four years ago…”
September 10th, 2001…
Phil Hermuth wrote back, explaining that he was an attorney’s paralegal secretary by trade and that he had prepared the following satirical legal document:
I Philip Hermuth, being of sound mind and
soon to be dramatically but certainly
shrunken body do hereby offer to Louise
Waters the title deed to my shrunken form,
to permit the aforementioned Louise
Waters to chase, cook, lick and gobble whole
my shrunken self at her convenience.
This offer is given for the consideration of
a brief series of dates with me, to be
undertaken prior to shrinking me, followed
by a brief series of dates with me, to be
undertaken after shrinking me.
…………………………………………
Philip Hermuth
…………………………………………
10th September 2001
“Dear Phil,” wrote Louise, “It was nice to receive another email from you today, and what a fun email it was. You came through for me with your legal department. Now I can go about shrinking and eating the handsome cute guy that you are.
In all seriousness though, I now want to tell you of my proposition. I am going to trust you with something you may not even believe, but if you do believe it, you’ll certainly have some important decisions to make. I could have shrunken and eaten any guy at any time in the last few years, since I invented a shrinking machine. It’s so small that it works from a ring on my finger, and the shrinking ray it fires is invisible to the human eye. This of course makes it important that I point it carefully in the right direction, when I’m going to shrink someone. I’d like to meet you, to make a believer of you, and then to quite literally go ahead and proceed with everything we’ve written about. The moment I knew where to find you, you’d be at my mercy. Like I said, I could have done it with anyone, but to me it had to be someone who reciprocated it, at least in the beginning. You’re the first and only guy who does. I doubt you could talk me out of it once you were shrunken, but I suppose you could try. It would be fun watching you beg me to let you go and restore your size, but in the end I think I would eat you up anyway, regardless of your protests. I know that asking for your address is a lot after all I’ve told you about myself, but I really hope you’ll give it to me.
All my love,
Louise.”