Sir George was cursing a bit after Greg's successful escape. Of all the Amish women he could've run into, he had to run into the one who was eloping! Damn the luck.
Ah well, he thought, calming down. Greg was still tiny, still in the middle of nowhere, still a long way from Las Vegasand indeed, who was to say that he'd be able to make it where he needed to go in Vegas?
No, Sir George still had the advantage.
He'd liked is advantage better, though, when Greg was safely ensconced on a farm with no electricity.
* * *
Greg awoke to a huge thudding. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, and looked around his unusual surroundings.
He had hidden himself under a chair, not far from the main desk in the lobby. From here, he had a good view of people making their way out. An older couple was at the desk nowno tags on their suitcases. Not flying.
He'd wait, patiently, for an airborne guest.
* * *
He was still waiting patiently a few hours later.
He'd watched Anna and Jesse leave with a twinge in his hearthe wished the best to both of them, and he hoped against hope he'd steered her right. It was too late now, he thought.
A line was forming at the counter, and he was watching carefully. Finally, he spotted what he was looking fora long white tag with "MDT" printed on it in big, bold letters.
A flier. Perfect.
He made his way carefully across the floor, doing his best not to draw attention. He knew he was less than stealthy, but he had little choice. He crossed the ten feet quickly, and thankfully, without incident. He reached the bag as the person who drug it along reached the counter.
She was a reasonably attractive woman, clad in a smart business suit; no doubt she was on some sort of business trip. He had no time to admire her now, though. His job was to get into her bag, and get on his way.
He investigated the situation, and decided quickly that his best bet was the carry-on by her left foot. The last thing he wanted was to be checked; cargo holds were cold and he didn't want to find out what the cold would do to him. Carefully, he slipped himself inside the gap in the zipper and into the bag itself, just as the woman completed her business.
They were off quickly. He could see already where he wasin a laptop carrying case, just to the left of an enormous computer. He cringed a littleif this were a businesswoman, she'd likely be checking her email soon enough. He'd have to reassess his situation soon.
The bag was dropped suddenly, and he looked out the inch-long hole he'd climbed through. He was on the floor of a car, and had a nice view of the woman's legs. He'd have to leave his hiding place, but as the woman drove he found his gaze moving up the legs towards her short gray skirt.
He had to admit it: there were some things about his size that were kinda fun.
* * *
Harrisburg International Airport isn't the world's largest airport. But it has cheap flights, and besides, it was handy to Lancaster, where Rebecca Hammonds had spent the last three days trying to sell her company's inventory control systems to a local factory.
The trip hadn't gone particularly well.
Rebecca went through the usual rigamarole; she turned in her car, checked in for her flight, grabbed a cup of coffee and the paper, and waited for her flight to Minneapolis, where she would try to do the same thing all over again.
Hey, it was a living, right?
After a while, she walked to the wifi kiosk and started to unpack her laptop. She thought she could check her mail quick.
She lifted her computer out carefully, and set it on the table. Reaching back in for her power cord, she suddenly gasped.
* * *
Greg was growing tired of being thrown about as the titanic saleswoman wandered the airport. He was enjoying the brief respite as the bag leaned against the woman's leg.
He tried to gameplan. He was at the airport, at least. That was good. Now, he had to figure out how to get from this airport to Las Vegas.
He thought about it carefully. How best to do this?
Greg looked at the hole he had entered through. He started toward it, when the bag started to move. He had but a split-second. Should he dive out, or stay with the computer?
* * *
Rebecca looked down in disbelief. It couldn't be. She couldn't believe it.
She'd left her power cord in the hotel.
"Arrrgh!" she muttered, putting the computer away. Damn it, this trip sucked.
* * *
Greg watched Rebecca walk away to somewhere. He had another agenda. He needed to find a liftsomeone going his way.
It wasn't easy. He didn't want to be found, but at his size he wasn't stealthy. He moved from chair leg to chair leg, hopscotching his way around the terminal, looking for what he was hoping to find.
It was a good hour before he finally found what he was looking fora list of arrivals and departures. He scanned the list, hoping for a direct flight to Vegas. No luck therebut there was a flight going via Minneapolis. He checked his watchfour hours before it left.
Perfect.
Now, he just had to figure out how to get there from here.
At least Harrisburg International Airport wasn't a large airport. If he'd been in O'Hare, he'd probably still be searching a few weeks from now.
As it was, it wasn't too bad. Harrisburg International is laid out like a Mercedes symbol. He was near the end of one of the spokes, but the gate he was heading for was toward the hub. His main trick was just getting to the center.
He was looking for a traveler heading his waysomeone catching a connecting flight, maybe. It was his best bet.
Carefully, he slunk along the walls, looking for someone to hitch a ride with. It wasn't easy. More than once, someone passed by that he thought showed promise, only to blow by him far faster than he could react. He was starting to despairafter all, he didn't have forever. He walked on his own for over three hours, and he made it into the hub, but it was probably too far to the gate for him to walk on his own.
It was hopeless, he thought. He'd never make it in time. Finally, though, luck interceded. Sort of.
He saw the group approaching at some distance. A mom, a dad, a couple of kids. They were heading toward the gate he wanted, and he once again began to try to intercept them.
He was beginning to despair againafter all, he'd run this drill about ten times now, all with similar failing results. But then, a miracle.
One of the kidsa girl who was about ten, he guessedstopped to tie her shoe.
"Thank God," he said, sprinting for the enormous, stationary target.
He was almost upon the girl when he realized that at two inches tall, he wasn't invisible.
He had been approaching her from her left, and she was tying her left shoe. It shouldn't have been surprising that she noticed a two-inch tall man sprinting at full speed toward her, and it should've been even less surprising that she gasped, and grabbed him.
"STACEY, HURRY UP," came a call from up ahead.
Stacey, carrying a tiny man in her balled-up left hand, obliged.
* * *
Greg cursed, silently, as he was slowly crushed by the girl. He wanted nothing more than to roll back time to right before he'd agreed to this stupid bet and....
Well, no, not exactly. There had been some interesting moments.
This just wasn't one of them.
After a few minutes, he felt movement, and then suddenly, he was dropped onto an enormous, hard plain with the occasional vast canyon.
They were in a public restroom, and he'd been dropped on the counter.
"HEY," said the enormous girl, looking down on him. "MY NAME'S STACEY. WHAT'S YOURS?"
"Uh...Mike," he said, using the name he'd planned on using all along.
"HI, MIKE! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FOUND YOU! YOU'RE SO CUTE! EMMA IS JUST GONNA FLIP WHEN WE GET BACK FROM LAS VEGAS!"
"Las Vegas?" asked Greg, his heart leaping a bit.
"YEAH, MY MOM'S GOING THERE TO MARRY HER STUPID BOYFRIEND. I WASN'T REALLY EXCITED ABOUT GOING, BUT THEN I FOUND YOU! I CAN'T WAIT TO PLAY WITH YOU, I'LL TAKE REALLY GOOD CARE OF YOU, I PROMISE."
Greg didn't hear much of what the girl said. Vegas! Sure, he'd have to figure out an escape route, as the last thing he wanted was to be the possession of a tween. But he'd take the free ride.
"Okay, Stacey," he said, forcing a smile.
"NOW, YOU'LL HAVE TO RIDE IN MY PURSE, 'K?"
"Okay," he said, as the girl shuffled him into a house-sized handbag. He didn't want to meet Emmabut he appreciated Stacey's hospitality. For now.
* * *
The plane leveled off, and Greg was actually feeling good. Oh, sure, Stacey wasn't exactly careful with the purse, and he'd had to dodge lip gloss and glittery nail polish and some hair things far more than he would've liked. But Stacey had long since stowed the purse under her seat; he could see the back of her tennies through a gap in the zipper. He was planning to sit back and enjoy the ride; soon enough, he'd be in Las Vegas, and he was sure that in the midst of the wedding, he'd be able to sneak away.
Suddenly, a voice broke his reverie. "Warning: a size change has been initiated. Ten minute countdown to size change. Next warning at five minutes."
He wondered if he'd grow larger or smalleror if it really mattered much.
He would find out soon that it would matter a great deal.
* * *
Stacey finished her meal, excitedly thinking about the tiny man she had found. He was a living doll, a sort of cross between a gerbil and a Barbie, and she was busy thinking about all the fun they'd have.
After a few minutes, she told her mom she needed to go to the restroom. She grabbed her purse from under the seatshe just had to see her little Mikey again.
Carefully as a nine-year-old could, she carried the purse to the restroom, locked the door, and opened the purse.
But there was no sign of her little man. Mike was gone!
She rifled through the bag, and at one point dumped the contents out on the minuscule counter, trying to find him, but to no avail. He had disappeared.
"Oh, Mike, where are you?" she asked, gathering her stuff back up and putting it into the bag.
She left the restroom sadder than she had been at the start of the trip. She just hoped Mike was happy.
* * *
Mike had calmly waited out the miniaturization process, confident that whatever his size, he needed only to stay in this purse to make it to Las Vegas. Bigger? Well, he'd be safer with whatever this girl planned to do with him. Smaller? It would make it easier to steal away.
So he was calm when the countdown reached one, and as he felt the world expand he was initially unconcerned.
Until he saw just how much it had expanded.
The small gap in the zipper was now a mammoth cave. Indeed, each of the teeth on the zipper were taller than he. He was tinytinier than he had been the first day.
He was one millimeter tall.
He panicked initially, before calming. It was okay, it was okay, he just needed to stay with the purse, and he'd be fine. He just had to make it to Vegas and lay low until he grewand he had to grow. He was as small as he could be.
He looked back out at the immense shoes of Stacey. And suddenly, the shoes shifted and a hand reached back to grab the purse.
No, he thought, as the purse was suddenly grasped and pulled out, and he tumbled down into the bottom.
The sticks of lip gloss that had been a problem before now loomed like oil tankers. He fell into the lining of the purse, and ducked and covered, praying he wouldn't take a direct hit.
When the sky suddenly opened, and Stacey's even-more-immense visage filled the sky, he tried weakly to wave to her. But it was immediately and abundantly clear that she didn't see him. Instead, baseball-diamond-sided hands reached in, tossing the items in the bag about wantonly, and then, just when he started to hope that she might give up, the bag was suddenly inverted, and he was falling, until he suddenly impacted on a hard metallic surface below. He bounced, and fell again, and this time he blacked out.
A few minutes later, he came to, just in time to see Stacey leaving the bathroom, sniffling a bit. He felt bad, and not just because his head hurt. But he had no time to wallow in self-pity. He was one millimeter tall, alone in an airplane restroom, and he couldn't worry about whether he would get to Las Vegas in one piece; he had to figure out a way to survive.
He looked around, and realized his situation was far worse than he'd thought. He was standing on a huge plastic semicircle. One direction led to a cliff-like dropoff to a metal surface. The other led to a far greater drop-off, into an enormous lake.
He was on the toilet seat.
This wasn't good.
* * *
He moved forward on the seat for no good reason; he wanted to try to position himself so that the next person to sit down wouldn't crush him. It was a vain hope, he knew, but it was all he had to work with.
Suddenly, the door to the restroom opened, and an almost two-mile-tall beauty entered the room. She was wearing a colorful sundress, and her breasts obscured her face. More than that Greg couldn't see, as she suddenly turned, and hiked her skirt up a bit, showing off basic white cotton panties that were suddenly sliding down her legs.
My executioner has a nice ass, thought Greg as he prepared to push the button that would lose him the bet.
But as she descended, Greg realized that he was going to be okay. The girl sat down with a wide stance, and while it was too close for comfort, she landed on the seat with her left thigh to the outside of Greg's position.
He was thrown to the ground by the impact, and landed facing her enormous slit, through which gallons of piss was currently flowing. "Jesus," said Greg, as he watched the display; it was a bit off-putting, but he knew he needed to use this woman if he wanted to live.
As she began to slow her output, Greg turned and ran to the enormous thigh. She was smooth-shaven, which was too bad, but even the tiny amount of stubble she had was enough for him to grip. Her hand quickly reached in with toilet paper, which dabbed gently at her womanhood. Then, she started to rise.
Greg held on as long as he could, but he knew what he had to do. As the panties slid up the woman's thighs, he dove into the crotch. Before long, the panties reached the woman's well-trimmed but still-forest-like bush.
There was the stale smell of urine mixed with the vibrant scent of woman; Greg began feeling like he had on the first day, that indescribable compulsion to find her center, to please her. It wasn't going to be easy to fight it.
After a while, he decided he didn't care to fight it, and he went in search of her clitoris. Of course, he was very small, so it would take him some time.
So intent was he on his exploration that he didn't know the woman exited in Minneapolis. I suppose it's better he didn't.
* * *
Heather got off the plane in Minneapolis and started toward baggage claim; she was back for the wedding of a friend from college, and while she was looking forward to the ceremony she wasn't sure she was excited to be here; she was nearing thirty, and while she was pretty and smart, she hadn't managed to find anyone to settle down with.
She'd had fun looking. But she was growing tired of looking.
She rented her car, and sighed. Nothing like heading back to a wedding to make her a bit horny. She'd been feeling twinges through the last hour of the trip, and there was another one; she was glad that Andrea wasn't getting in until tomorrow morning. She would have the room to herself tonight. She hadn't packed any equipment, so she'd just have to use her middle finger. Wouldn't be the first time, she thought, glumly.
* * *
Greg had felt the woman leave the plane, and now felt what seemed to be a car. He knew immediately that ths couldn't be Vegasthe flight hadn't lasted long enough. No, he had to be somewhere else.
Damn it! He had to shrink right when he did. He couldn't wait four hours. Four hours later, and he's tucked away safely in Stacey's room.
Oh well, he thought, looking at the enormous clit that he'd been playing with for the past hour or two. It could be worse.
The clitoris was growing erect, but he realized that he just wasn't man enough to push this woman all the way. Not that he wasn't having fun; indeed, he had found that shrinking to a millimeter tall is a powerful aphrodisiac.
After a while, he felt the car stop, and the woman began walking again. He braced himself against the hood, hanging on as the hips of the woman swung with each step. There was a pause, and movement, pause, and movement, pause, and movement. Finally, he heard some rustling, and he thought they might have reached their destinatin.
* * *
Heather put the suitcase in the corner and stripped off her dress; she then lay down on the bed, and reached her hand inside her panties. Feeling for her clit, she touched it gently. It responded instantly, like she'd been prepping for hours. She gave out an involuntary moan as she pressed softly against it.
She pushed again on her clit, knowing from years of practice just how much to give herself. She felt more aroused than usual, like some unseen helper was rubbing away himself. Hmmm...yes...a tiny orgasm fairy had inhabited her panties, and was doing his best to pleasure her...that was a nice thought....
* * *
Greg was surprised when a well-manicured finger suddenly invaded his territory. He was quickly overcome by the power of the woman's finger as she slowly brought herself to crescendo.
Had she pressed down hard, it's likely Greg would've been hurt. But he realized quickly that she was pressing lightly, using an almost feather-touch, and he could tell immediately that it was working. He tried to get down near the base of the clit while the woman's fingers worked the top. Once he felt safer, he began to work again.
It wasn't too much later when the hips, which had been rising and falling in rhythm, suddenly began bouncing spasmodically, causing Greg to lose his grip, and fall forward. He bounced off the labia, and slid down her slit until a small rush of liquid carried him into the woman's panties.
He coughed a little, and smiled. Even if he lost, this experience had been worth it.
* * *
Heather smiled. That was the best orgasm she'd had since she'd dumped Jeremy. Not bad at all.
She looked down at her damp panties. Well, no use keeping these on, she thought, peeling them away. She dropped them onto the floor by the travel bag. Then, she headed off to the bathroom for a long soak in the tub.
While she bathed, the little man made his way out of the panties and into the corner. He would have to figure out where to get foodhe hadn't eaten anything since a midnight snack the day before. But he'd have time. He could tell he was in a hotel almost immediately, and that gave him hope. They'd have to go back to the airport, and this time, he'd make it all the way to Las Vegas.
He just had to last a couple days.
Giantess World
