“Fuzz!”

Will was leaning against the wall, staring at you.

“Huh?”

You were inside a girl’s bedroom, awash with bright colors, posters spread over the walls, mostly of films and male celebrities and bands, a shaggy rug, and a small pile of clothes on the floor. A stack of books reached the height of a house on a shelf, next to a guitar and standing speaker tower.

If this was Kayla’s bedroom, it looked like she’d been doing some painting. Newspapers were spread over the carpet alongside the bed, with a bunch of glass paint pots, delicate paintbrushes. Some of the paint had been recombined in a larger glass jar.

Kayla was nowhere in sight.

Ignoring that for now, you searched the room for a good hiding place. Kayla could come back any second and if you were close to the doorway, there was no way she’d see you on the carpet, and you’d get flattened by her feet.

Will didn’t seem concerned.

“How did you get here?” you said.

“Kayla took my jug home,” he said simply. He must have been in the same jug as you. Both of you had looked just like cherries so you didn’t recognize each other.

You explained the same thing happened to you; and that Vanessa drank you.

Will almost seemed concerned.

“Whoa, man. Are you okay?” he said.

You brushed him off.

“I think I nearly got digested but I’m fine now,” you said evasively.

“You saw that milf's insides? Yo, sick!” Will enthused.

Meanwhile, you were reluctant to point out your tally for being inside women was now ‘2’. You didn’t want to explain in detail how you got out of Vanessa, and suddenly wished you hadn’t brought it up. Seeing your expression, Will went on:

“What? That hot momma’s got a nice rack.” He began to sing ‘Stacy’s Mom’ but changed it to ‘Kayla’s Mom’.

“Will,” you grumbled, “not now, okay? We need to figure this out.”

“Sorry, dude,” he relented, “Hey Kayla’s got it going on too if you know what I mean.”

“Kayla?” you said. “She’s young.”

“We’re young.”

“I mean, she’s the same age as Lara. She’s your cousin’s best friend.”

“Bro,” he said, “if you haven’t noticed, Lara’s gaining on us. She’s practically old enough to smoke a joint. Anyway, you’re right,” he changed tack, “new plan. Time to get serious. We’re not trying to talk to my sister anymore. We’re going to talk to Kayla. I’m counting on you.” He slapped your back.

You must have looked worried.

“It’s your turn, remember?” he added. “You have to get Kayla’s attention. Don’t forget to introduce me. Say that I’m a pretty top guy.”

On second thought, this didn’t seem so tough. Your biggest triumph right now was just staying on the outside of Vanessa’s mouth. Compared to that, getting Kayla’s attention would be simple.

The two of you decided to wander over to her bed, which was as big as a hill. Here, the smell of paint filled the air.

You and Will walked over the newspaper spread on the carpet. While he kept going towards the side of the bed, you stopped to check out one of the glass paint jars, and were struck by an idea.

“We should write Kayla a message,” you said.

“We already tried,” Will said. “It didn’t work.”

“We don’t know it didn’t work,” you said. “Courtney could be figuring out where we are right now.”

Will slowly circled back to you, and then took one of the delicate paint brushes out of the pot.

“Let me handle this,” he said, and began painting a message on the newspaper. He wrote with abandon, and it was messy but legible.

You looked at what he had written:

to kayla
you were right about everything, especially the part about aliens.
we know because WE are the aliens.
our spaceship crashed on earth.
we need your help. BTW we come in peace.
from the aliens.
Peace Out.

“You can’t write that!” you exclaimed. Panicking, you dashed for the brush, to write your own message. Will caught your shoulder and stopped you.

“She likes aliens,” he said quickly, “this will get her attention for sure.”

“It’ll mess everything up,” you complained. “Who would believe an alien wrote that?!”

“Trust me, Fuzz,” Will shook his head, striding away. “If that doesn’t get her interested, then nothing will. Now,” he gestured at the bed. “We should try to get up there.”

You were about to protest but realized he had a good point. It was safer to get some height, and then you’d be able to get someone’s attention when they came in the room.

This was easier said than done. The two of you struggled to grip the bedspread and climb. It was completely vertical and there was nothing to hang on to. You got a couple of meters up before falling onto the carpet again. Will made it a half meter higher, and then dropped down. But he had an idea.

He went over to one of the open paint jars and, without hesitation, thrust his hands inside. He then tried to climb up the bedspread, and to your surprise, it was much easier now. His hands stuck to the fabric as if glued. He was able to ascend by repeatedly attaching his hands, which was helped by the fact he was so light.

You dipped your hands into the paint as well, which smelled like varnish. At your size the paint’s surface tension made it more sticky, like glue. Taking Will’s lead, you began to climb up the bedspread after him.

Finally you both made it up and sighed in relief. You felt less exposed than on the ground. At least no one could step on you. If they did, you were so small that you would probably get stuck to the bottom of their foot and they wouldn’t even notice you.

“What do we do now?” said Will. He stayed at the edge of the bed, looking down, as if marvelling at the height from the ground.

“Let’s wait here,” you suggested, keen for a break. Kayla was bound to return soon, and hopefully see you.

Will thought about this.

“That doesn’t sound like a great idea. What if she sits on us?”

You never got to answer.

Kayla entered the room. You both jumped. Now her gargantuan form was approaching the bed with bone-quaking steps. You had a fraction of a second to realize that she hadn’t seen you – couldn’t see you. She had her cell phone up to her ear and was chatting briskly, completely shutting out the world.

The two of you jumped and waved your arms, and yelled at her, but it was no good. She was completely oblivious.

She was a giant teenage girl in an animated gossip session with her school friend and her eyes fleeted around the room in distraction, refusing to land on you. You and Will were so small you might as well be invisible. You felt your stomach sink in dismay.

Worse, she was striding eagerly up to the bed, and in mere seconds she was going to flop down on it… crashing down right on top of the two of you.

With no other choice, you and Will charged to the side of the bed, where you had just climbed up from. But, teetering right on the brink, your legs turned to lead. You had no idea what to do. If you stayed on the bed, Kayla might lie on you; you would be flattened and stuck beneath her. But if you jumped onto the ground, she could step on you. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Fuzz,” Will exclaimed, “jump!”

He made your decision for you. Will shoved you from behind and you went tumbling over the bed. The ground was flying up.

What you landed on was not the firm carpet, but a round flat pond of shiny neon blue liquid. Next second you sunk into the depth. It had the thickness and stickiness of honey, clinging to you and keeping you under.

The moment you sunk, you realized you had made a terrible mistake by jumping off the bed, but it was too late.

Somewhere nearby, Will had just landed in a similar open jar of lime green paint, and was sinking beneath the surface.

Meanwhile, you were hopelessly enveloped in cool, sticky liquid. You couldn’t tell which way was up or down anymore, and the varnish smell nauseated you into dizziness.

Kayla stretched across her bed, chatting and laughing to her friend on the phone.

The cool liquid went into your insides and you began absorbing it. For a second you were shocked at its coolness, enveloping every part of your system. You could feel the cool sensation inside your chest, stomach and head, like it was pouring in via a hose. It felt strange and distracting. After squeezing your muscles a couple of times to push paint out, you realized it was no use. Your body was starting to absorb the paint.  

This wasn’t too bad, you thought. Even if you became some paint, you’d get painted on a piece of paper or canvas, and stick in place at least until your body reformed. That was at least tolerable until you reunited with Will.

Kayla stretched one leg over the edge of her bed, and rotated it to check her nails while she chatted on the phone. Your head pounded with the sound of her loud, excited voice. Her gigantic foot hovered in the air directly over you, eclipsing the ceiling light. As you watched, it dipped down and came to rest on the carpet as Kayla gingerly sat up and then slid onto the carpet right in front of the tiny paint jars.

But you were wrong. You hadn’t fallen into paint jars, but something else.

Kayla’s voice warbled loudly over your head:

“—just let me finish painting my nails and I’ll be right over!”

Before her friend called her, Kayla had gone out of the room to make up some shape stencils to apply to her toenails and paint over, to make nail polish patterns.

One of her legs stretched past you, rivalling the length of a fallen trunk of a 150 foot tall tree. You had been the size of her little toe, now your body was softening and becoming a small blob of cyan nail polish that sat on the surface of the jar.

Unable to move, you could only watch helplessly as Kayla scooted her massive butt very close to the jar you were inside. As she cradled her phone with one hand, still chatting casually, she plucked up the nail polish brush, and sent the fine brush tip on a downward path heading straight for your face.

As you stared up in disbelief, the black tip grew bigger and bigger, until it completely dominated your view. It impacted your head and pushed, poking you to the side, as it pushed on into the jar. You sticky liquid body was easily shifted around inside the jar, and you were delicately whisked around a couple of strokes with the polish wand, before it scooped underneath you. Then it slipped out, covered in polish, while you remained inside the jar.

You sighed in relief as the brush rose back into the air, carrying on to Kayla’s foot. She began applying a new coat of polish to her big toe. It was already painted magenta, and now she painted some light blue patterns on top.  

The brush returned several more times, each time poking and stirring you, before stealing some polish from beneath. Each time, the brush only succeeded in mixing you further into the polish, making it harder for you to get out of the jar, or reform.

Each time Kayla went to recoat the brush in fresh polish, she inadvertently poked into you, which was pretty uncomfortable. It felt like the polish brush was poking holes all through you, except because you were now liquid, and sticky, your body reformed quickly after every poke. Every time she lifted the brush, you were worried you’d get stuck to the tip and pulled up as well.  

Suddenly, Kayla said impatiently into the phone:

“Okay, okay, I’m coming over now! I’ll finish this later!”

And before you knew it, your view of the world was replaced with the black cap, which Kayla quickly screwed on the polish bottle, sealing you perfectly inside.

For another couple of minutes, Kayla continued to talk on the phone as she got ready, while you waited inside the bottle. Everything was dim and the glass surrounding you was blurry, but you could hear Kayla’s voice as she chatted to her friend for another minute. She also quickly touched up her right foot with polish; this time she must have been using the jar Will fell into. You wondered if she had inadvertently painted him onto her toenail.

Once she finished, she plucked up the polish jars from the floor. Your glass enclosure lifted and was carried around. Then it came down in a cool, dim space, which was a drawer in the bathroom shelving unit.

Kayla decided to keep you there while she went on. The sound of her footsteps then retreated, and then the room was quiet. She must have decided to go to her friend’s house now, leaving you alone, apart from her mom Vanessa, who was still at home somewhere.

In the cool darkness, the urge to sleep was overwhelming, in fact you could barely remember when you last slept.

*

You suddenly felt yourself being shifted around, and quickly awoke.

It wasn’t dim or cool anymore. You were out in the open again, and the bathroom heat lamp beamed down on you.

Stirring, you looked out, and through the clear glass noticed someone had taken you. Your jar was caught in the grasp of a monstrously large female hand, but the hand was too big to be Kayla’s, and the nails were painted red.

Without warning, the jar cap came off, exposing Vanessa’s greatly magnified face peering straight down into the jar at you. You grew weak with dread. Vanessa must have decided to borrow some of Kayla’s polish.

You must have been in the bathroom cabinet for the entire night. Now it was the next morning, Vanessa had just woken up and was still wearing a silk slip. You were dazzled by the sight of her massive face scrutinizing you; it was obvious she was stunning even first thing in the morning, without makeup. She was a naturally attractive older woman and you were dazzled by the power she had over you. She didn’t even know how effortlessly she held you, scrutinized you, and manipulated your body.

As she observed you, she brought you up closer and closer to her face, until you were positioned right under her lips. Now as she inspected you in detail, she accidentally hit you full on with a couple of waves of morning breath, and stuck in the tiny jar, you couldn’t avoid it. You felt heady and nauseated and prayed for her to give you a burst of fresh air.

Kayla called impatiently from the hallway:

“Mom, stop stealing my nail polish!”

“Uh, excuse me,” Vanessa said sternly, looking over her shoulder, “but this was my nail polish first, and I think you stole it from my bathroom.”

As you gazed up at Kayla’s colossal mother, her face was quickly replaced with the black wand, and dipped into you. She poked you a couple of times in your head and chest, and then began stirring you calmly, to get you thin and runny. It felt like she was trying to wrap you around and around the brush.

“I only borrowed it for one time,” Kayla corrected herself, “I was going to give it back. Can I use it again? I haven’t finished.”

“Okay,” Vanessa sighed, “but then you have to put it back where it belongs. Properly.”

Kayla dashed into the bathroom and eagerly took the jar from her mother. Vanessa’s gargantuan face shifted so you were staring up at Kayla instead. Her hair was still damp from a recent shower; it was the morning of a school day and although she was getting ready to leave, she had some time to spend finishing her toenails.

As you stared up at Kayla, she unthinkingly stuffed the wand tip into your face, and screwed the cap back on the jar, blocking your view of everything. Meanwhile, she took the jar back through the house. You could feel yourself being carried along but didn’t know where you were until she unscrewed the cap again, giving you a view straight to the lights on her bedroom ceiling.

 The tiny jar – with you inside – was put on her bedside table while Kayla sat down and quickly prepared one foot, putting a foam separator between her toes, before propping her foot up on the bed. She had to work quickly so she could finish up and make it to school on time.

Once again, with barely any notice of you, she dipped the black wand into your awaiting head, and it sunk in deep. You felt the brush stirring hypnotically inside your head and body, which was a strange feeling, pulling and tugging you in rapid circles. It felt like you were being poked and swept all around inside. This also caused your body to get scooped around the wand tip like cotton candy.

Having unknowingly captured you on the tip of the of the fine brush tip, Kayla then retrieved you from the jar, and sent you straight into her large, feminine big toe, which was waiting patiently on the bed.

Since she’d just showered and put lotion on her feet, they were fragrant at least. You were awash in the scent as you got closer. Stuck to the brush like honey, there was nothing you could do but watch Kayla’s humungous bare foot and luxuriously stretching toes expand closely in your direct view, before she tilted the polish wand, angling you face first at her big toe, which flexed with anticipation, and then stilled to receive you onto its glossy nail plate. Without a second thought, she touched you delicately to her glistening pink nail.

She rubbed you onto the nail, and then with patient, methodically strokes, began petting you down over it, gently stretching you thin over the smooth surface. Your tiny liquid body compliantly spread out in every direction to cover the entire nail surface, and the wand swept back and forth over you, molding you in place. Your spine conformed to the curve of her nail, as the brush continued to swish back and forth and around over your face and body. Pretty soon you were stuck there like a postage stamp. It felt like you were a piece of paper that was glued to her nail.

She then changed her mind and, before you managed to dry, manipulated you a little, shaping you into a small tiny bright blue love heart pattern on her pink nail. Since you couldn’t move, you could only stare directly up at the bedroom ceiling, which was partly blocked out by the soft brush repeatedly rubbing over you, smoothing you until you were entirely flat and inseparable from the nail. As Kayla leaned over you, your view was limited to the underside of her boobs, which appeared huge to you. You watched them shift under her top, while she pushed and probed you with the fine brush, until you were almost crazy and embarrassed with arousal.

Once you were tiny and heart-shaped, she decided she was finished, and stretched her foot out, shifting you parallel to the bedroom floor. Now, anywhere she moved her foot, you moved with it. Otherwise you couldn’t move an inch and were fixed in position, only looking up at the bedroom and Kayla’s massive form from the floor while she did her other foot. Once again you were struck by her tremendously large figure, and her considerable chest, barely concealed in her top.

Finally, she finished her other foot, and her attention returned to you. She quickly dabbed about your face with her fingertip to check you were dry. You were so tiny that her broad fingertip alone blotted out your entire vision. You didn’t like being poked in the face but couldn’t defend yourself from her gigantic thumb brushing back and forth over your face. To her, you were just a tiny blue heart pattern on her crimson-painted toenail.

Then she wriggled and stretched her toes with satisfaction, and stood up. You were subject to even the littlest movements of her flexing big toe, as if someone had grabbed you and was rocking your body around. It made your head spin a little.

At full standing height, Kayla loomed directly above you like a mountainous giantess. You had a view straight up her formidable height and looked up at her from directly below, which made you feel utterly puny and insignificant, like a bug. Her form was basically a vertical wall and her chest appeared absurdly large, a shelf that blocked out the ceiling. Then she began to walk. Knowing what was coming, you held your breath with dread.