Carl’s eyes flashed back open as he stared forward, his vision blurry.  His head hurt a little as well, but it wasn’t awful.  He was lying on his back, no longer on the cool leather of the recliner, but on soft wood.  He rapped his fist against it, wondering what was going on.  As he blinked a few more times, he came to see Sandra’s face again, grinning at him.  As he looked at her face, he couldn’t help but notice a few more things than when he had been looking at her before.  Tiny pockets of skin cells all along her face like wallpaper under a microscope.  Laugh wrinkles around her eyes, the beginning of a furrowed brow on her forehead.  A few stray hairs around her black bangs.  A few smudges of make-up where she had stopped adding it to her face.  The slightest of black eyeliner streaks under each of her eyelids.  Her green eyes were like whirlpools, like spinning kaleidoscopes of olive and emerald, and they were transfixed on him alone.  Her plush pink lips parted, her white teeth glistening from sheen and from a thin layer of saliva coating them.  She chuckled, first in a low voice at first, and then it began to rise, becoming louder and louder.  Carl slammed his fists against his ears, trying to cover the noise, and suddenly everything came into focus: the reason why he was looking at such a detailed version of Sandra’s beautiful face.  She was right in front of him, sure, but even that wouldn’t have been enough.  She was big.

Very big.

Her face, like a stoic sphinx, towered over him.  He felt like he was looking up at a close-up shot on an IMAX screen, but he wasn’t.  It was real, all real.  Sandra was looking down at him from above, a smile spread across her lips, her hair hanging down in jet black cascades of shine.  Carl’s jaw dropped in shock as he eyes fell down her massive form, along her building-sized shoulders, following the creaseless folds of her blue business suit, lingering for just a moment on her mountainous breasts held in her white shirt, and then it stopped at the horizon of the brown wood desk.  He was lying on Sandra’s desk.  Then, he looked down at himself, and his blood ran cold.  He was naked before this gorgeous doctor who must have been well over 300 feet tall, if not more, to him.

His eyes shifted again as he heard a loud ruffling sound.  Sandra’s shoulder moved slightly, and over the edge of the desk far off, Carl watched fingers almost three times as long as himself crawl over the edge.  Her pale, peachy flesh smushed slightly against the wood, and she began to slide it forward, her fingers splayed.  Carl watched her clean fingernails reflecting light as they neared him, becoming larger and larger as she kept her palm flat on the wood.  He crawled back in terror, feeling a cold rush of air falling over every inch of his nude body as he did.  He felt more and more insecure, and suddenly found a shadow being cast over him as Sandra’s face neared his own, her eyes bright, her mouth still curled into an adorable but nonetheless absolutely enormous grin.  Fully stretched out, he guessed her mouth was nearly triple as long as his entire body.  He shivered; despite the woman’s comforting abilities and soft looks, seeing her so gigantic up above him, like a smiling and omnipotent monument, made her look like an absolute goddess of power.  Carl gulped, his heart fluttering with fear, and yet somewhere in the depths of his mind, he couldn’t help but want to stare at her in her magnificent, titanic glory forever.

“Hello again, Carl,” she said, smiling, sending a rolling wave of hot breath over his body as her face hovered just above him.  Carl guessed if he stood up on his tiptoes, he could have touched her hair, which hung over him like black, motionless waterfalls.  “Are you feeling all right?”

“I… I…”

“No pain?  A little is to be expected at first, but you should be feeling fine right about now,” she said kindly and softly, trying not to scare him.  She was correct; Carl’s pain was leaving, and he felt absolutely fine, besides the fact that his naked body was being exposed to this giant of a woman.

“Dr. Adams… what’s going on?”

“Please.  Sandra, remember?”

“Sandra, okay, okay… what… what’s going…” mumbled.

She smiled.  “Don’t be embarrassed.  I know you must have a lot of questions.  Maybe you’re even… afraid of me, yes?” she questioned sweetly as if he were sitting in the chair still with his clothes on.

“Where… where are my clothes?” he asked, suddenly remembering his nudity and covering his privates up with both hands, still lying on the ground underneath Sandra’s face.  She giggled again, the sound rumbling through his eardrums.

“Back on the floor over there, next to the chair.  I doubt you could use them, though.  They might be a bit too big for you.”

“Too… big?” Carl muttered, shaking his head in confusion.

“Yes.  Actually, I doubt there are any clothes in existence that could fit you.  Well… maybe something from a toy train set, or a dollhouse, but not much else,” she answered slyly, loudly drumming her gargantuan fingers on the wood, causing Carl to jump in surprise.

“Don’t be nervous.”

“Wh-wh… what do you mean… dollhouse?”

                “What do you think I mean?” she asked, as if speaking to a young child.

                “What happened to me?”

                She pursed her lips, looking somewhat disappointed with his perception skills.  “It’s not very complicated, Carl.  I’ve shrunk you.”

                “Shr… WHAT?”

                “S-H-R-U-N-K,” she spelled slowly, lapping her tongue at her lips playfully.  “I made you smaller. Does that clear it up at all?”

                “But… but that’s IMPOSSIBLE!” he said, beginning to hyperventilate.

                “Just breathe in an out, Carl, in and out.  Relax.  And no, it’s not impossible.  How else do you think you could be sitting here on my desk like this?” she smiled.  Her other hand rose up from under the desk, and she balled it into a fist, resting her chin on her propped up arm.

                “A dream… it must be a…” said Carl hazily.  She laughed again.

                “No, Carl, this is as real as it can get…” she said.  The hand that was flat on the desk continued sliding forward, then pressed up as Sandra extended her pointer finger, which was thicker across than Carl’s entire body.  Before Carl knew it, she was laying her soft fingertip on his foot and stroking up along his leg, to his knee, and up to his stomach.  With a another gentle tap on his abs to remind him just how real the truck-sized hand before him was, Sandra retracted her warm, fleshy appendage, uncurling her fingers and continuing to drum along the wood.  “Still think it’s a dream?” she asked with a coy smile.  Carl shivered, both from the adrenaline and the oddly amazing feel the soft digit had on his body.  Even though she was big enough to kill him with a single flick of her fingers, he realized, she was still a woman, a beautiful one no less, and she had just touched him along his nude body with great care and tenderness.

                Carl’s breathing still wasn’t regulated, but since Sandra didn’t appear to want to hurt him, he had at least collected himself to speak up again.  “N-N-No, I guess not…” he breathed heavily.

                “You’re still very upset, Carl, and that’s all right, but again I say: you should just relax.”

                “Why… why did this happen?”

                “I was hoping you’d ask me that question…” she chuckled.  “I’m simply giving you what you asked for.”

                “What I… asked for?  But… I never…”

                “You’ve decided that your life isn’t worth living anymore.  And from listening to you, I don’t feel like I’m going to be getting anywhere convincing you to forget about it.  So instead, I’m going to help you.”

                “Help… me?” he said, shaking, feeling more and more uneasy.

                “That’s right.  I’m a doctor.  It’s my job.”

                “But… but surely you can’t mean you’re actually going to… I mean…”

                “Why not?” she asked, cocking her head.  “You seem so sure of yourself.  Why not make sure you do it in a way that isn’t hurtful to your loved ones, where there’s no trace of you left to find…” she said, raising a hand and tapping her teeth with a fingernail.

                “Because… because…”

                “There is no "because," Carl,” she finished, cutting him off and laying both hands flat back on the desk with a soft slap.  “You’re confused.  You’re feeling conflicted being here, right now, like this.  But don’t worry.  I’ll make it as comfortable as I can.”

                “W-What are you going to d-do?” stuttered Carl, standing up and cowering as he stepped back.  She laughed, tossing her hair back over her shoulder as she leaned back in her chair, running her fingers through her flowing, silky black hair.

                She winked at him, and then licked her lips slowly and methodically, coating them in a gleaming layer of fresh saliva from her thick pink muscle.  “I’m going to swallow you alive, little guy.”  Her soft fingers rose from the desk, approaching Carl’s helpless form like pythons descending on the prey.