Naomi got angrier and angrier as the weekend progressed.  She tried everything to distract herself—wine, TV, housecleaning—but nothing worked.  When Rick wanted to fool around with her, she hoped that might divert her racing mind, but no sooner had he put his arms around her than her skin began to crawl and she had to excuse herself.

She was still on edge when she got to work on Monday.  She picked up the stack of claims she had queued up on Friday afternoon and put them back down.  She watched the lobby doors waiting for Stefan to have the nerve to show his face.  By nine-thirty she started to imagine that he wasn't coming back ever, that he had abandoned this identity and life and fled to start over somewhere else.  Then at nine-thirty-four he strode out of the elevator and into his office as normal.

She didn't give him a chance to read his email or even hang up his jacket before heading into his office and closing the door behind her.

"Have a good weekend?" she asked stridently.

He shrugged and nodded.  "Same ol', same ol'," he said.

"So that's normal for you, huh?  You always shrink people and almost swallow them?"

He held her in his steady gaze. "No," he replied quietly, "that's not normal."

"Why not?" she asked, her eyes drifting to the ring on his finger.

He swallowed.  "What do you mean?"

"That ring is amazing," she said.  "You could, I don't know, take two dozen people to Paris with one plane ticket."

A surprised smile spread across his face.  "You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"I can't think about anything else!" she cried, her composure fracturing.  "Do you realize how easily you could have swallowed me?"

Stefan's face sobered.  "Yes, I do."

Naomi bit off her retort and narrowed her eyes at him.  His eyes seemed to retreat into his skull, and his jaw held itself totally immobile.  She studied the dimensions of his head, estimating the volume of his mouth, and imagined her tiny self in there, seen from the perspective a normal-sized person outside.

"Why didn't you, then?" she asked.

He blinked.  "What?"

She shook her head in mock confusion.  "Why didn't you swallow me?"

He exhaled sharply and pursed his lips.  Then he brazenly looked her up and down and said, "You don't have enough meat on your bones."

She only considered this for a second before raising her skeptical eyebrows at him and crossed her arms.

He lowered his gaze, then sat down heavily.  She advanced on him, and he looked up at her with a weary smile.

"I just wanted to taste you," he said, his eyebrows raised disarmingly.

Stefan held his sincere smile for a number of moments, until he gave in and effusively licked his lips and swallowed.  Naomi's arms slowly fell to her sides as she grasped that he was telling the truth.

She sat down, then stared into space as she imagined having a four-inch-tall person in her own mouth.  What would that feel like?

Stefan sat perfectly still as he watched Naomi put her hand to her throat.  She turned back to him with a bit of a smirk.

"So how did I taste?" she asked.

He briefly closed his eyes and again wet his lips.  "Fear, salt, rage, sex," he listed slowly.

"That doesn't sound so strange," she said, swallowing herself.

"Wait until you taste them all at the same time," he said with a bashful grin.

Naomi sat without speaking for a few moments more, lost in a storm of thoughts and sensations.  She needed to digest all this.  She got up to leave.

"Are we still on for sushi this week?" asked Stefan.  "I think you've already treated me."

She stopped and looked at him, her breathing labored.  "Sure," she said, not sure at all.

***

Naomi's morning encounter with Stefan left her unsettled for the rest of the day.  She couldn't concentrate, and she more than lost the ground that she had gained staying late on Friday.

Joan had taken a different train that morning, but after work she met Naomi in the lobby and they walked together to the station.  Joan started talking about her weekend, but Naomi couldn't even take on small talk.  Finally Joan had to prod her.

"What's eating you?"

Naomi looked at Joan shakily, then slumped against a pillar on the train platform.  "I'm not sure I can stay in Processing."

"Those jerks at Aetna still fucking you around on the phone?"

"Yeah, but that's not it."

Joan tilted her head back appraisingly.  "It's Stefan, isn't it?"

Naomi looked down the tracks for their train.

"Did he creep on you or something?" asked Joan.

Naomi looked for their train a moment more, then looked at Joan and briefly shook her head.

Joan nodded slowly, then turned away slightly to hide her eye-roll, but Naomi caught it anyway.

"What?" Naomi demanded.

"You're so predictable," said Joan.

"What do you mean?"

"This guy gives you pants-feelings and you're letting it get to you because it messes up your plan," Joan drew out the last word with contempt.

Naomi's jaw dropped at this assault. "What are you talking about?  What 'plan'?"  She realized too late she had neglected to deny having feelings (of any kind) for Stefan.

Joan raised her arms in accusation.  "You don't even realize how this plan is messing with you.  You want Rick, you want the white-picket fence in the suburbs, and you want a couple of rugrats.  Sooner or later Rick's gonna figure out how both to piss off his mom by marrying you and still keep her checks coming, and then you'll have everything you want.  Or think you want."

Naomi was reeling.  Joan had made fun of her and Rick before, but she had always supported her in the end.  This was closer to cruelty.  She supposed she did want something like the life with Rick that Joan had described, but it wasn't something she was actively plotting, and it certainly didn't "mess with" her.  The bit about Rick marrying her to piss off his mother went too far.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," said Naomi.  "Rick and I are a team; we'll always be there for each other, wherever we end up."  Naomi wasn't sure she believed this, but she needed to make Joan step off.  "This has nothing to do with Rick.  There's something strange in Stefan's past, and I'm not sure I can trust him."

Naomi turned away from Joan and headed down the platform to board a different coach.  Her face felt hot, and her throat felt dry.  She hadn't seen this side of Joan before, not turned against her.  Can you ever truly know someone? she wondered.  How do you know when you've really tasted their essential nature?

***

Stefan knew a wide variety of the sushi offered by the bar that Naomi had selected, but he was quick to acknowledge those missed by his hasty education.  Before trying any of them, he asked her which was her favorite.  When she told him, she expected he would take the easy way out and just have what she was having.  Instead, he asked her why she liked it, and although he did eventually try it, he had three more rolls of a kind he had clearly researched beforehand.

Watching Stefan eat was a different experience now.  Naomi tried to spot the reactions in his face as each flavor hit his tongue.  He took his time, and she found herself wondering if he had chewed each roll enough before swallowing.  As fascinating as his gustation was, however, her eyes kept returning to his ring.

Once the plates were cleared and they were working on their tea, she jumped right in.  "How many people have you used that thing on?"

He kept his eyes on hers as he sipped his tea.  "Hardly any.  I can't justify the risk of getting caught."

"Did tasting me justify it?"

He beamed.  "Yes, but there was no way to know that until I tried it."

Naomi thought she understood the hunger for experience that could drive someone to take such a risk.  As she ran her tongue over her teeth and again enjoyed the medley of tastes from their lunch, she was glad she decided to go through with their plans.  She wanted to continue exploring with Stefan, but she wasn't sure what else she had to offer him.

"You said I didn't have enough meat on my bones," she said.

He rolled his head and raised his eyebrows ironically.

"What about Joan Foster?" she said softly.

His breath caught.  "What about her?"

"She's got quite a bit of, uh, meat, don't you think?"

He furrowed his brow, but his smile remained.  "She's your friend, isn't she?"

Good question, thought Naomi.  "We're not as close as we used to be," she said.  "But she did tell me about the Christmas party."

His smile dimmed, and he lowered his eyes to his cup, where they stayed.  "Never been that drunk, before or since," he said, shaking his head.

"Did you have the ring with you at the party?"

Another head shake.

"If you had, what do you think you might have done?"

He raised his eyes to hers, then exhaled deeply.  "I honestly don't know."

Naomi just nodded and looked at him soberly, trying very hard not to show the smile she felt.

***

That afternoon Naomi deliberately stalked Joan at the train platform and followed her to her seat and sat down next to her before Joan could notice.  Joan turned and looked at her skeptically.

"Hey," said Naomi.

"Hey yourself."

Naomi just kept smiling the mischievous smile she had had since she first spotted Joan on the platform.

"Look," began Joan, "I'm sorry about what I said about you and Rick.  I was unfair.   Your life is none of my business."

"No worries," replied Naomi, her smile widening.  "I guess it does seem like I've got this big plan, but I swear I don't.  In fact, I think I drift along too much, letting things happen to me, you know?"

"Well, as long as you're thinking about it."

"Always."

Naomi let Joan ramble on about something dumb her sister did, then waited until they were almost at her stop.  "Oh, I just remembered," said Naomi.  "I've got something to show you.  Come by my desk after work tomorrow."

"What is it?"

"Don't worry.  It's really cool.  You'll like it."  Then she jumped up and slipped through the doors.

***

It was another Friday afternoon, and many of Naomi's co-workers had left early, so no one saw Joan arrive in her jacket and backpack and make her way to Naomi's desk.

"Alright," said Joan, "Whaddaya wanna show me?"

Naomi looked up with a grin.  "Oh, Stefan's got it now."

Joan inclined her head questioningly.  "I thought you said he was strange."

Naomi nodded.  "He is.  I've just decided I'm okay with it."

"Okay enough to go out with him?"

Naomi blushed.  "No, not like that."  Then she grinned conspiratorily.  "Not yet, anyway."

Joan raised her eyebrows at that.  "Okay, whatever.  This better not take long."

Naomi stood up and led Joan through the doorway into Stefan's office.  He looked up, expectant but unsmiling.

"I told Joan about the magic trick you showed me last week," said Naomi.

He looked at Naomi for a couple of beats, then said, "I hope you didn't spoil it for her."

"Oh no," replied Naomi.  "I just want to see the look on her face."

Keeping his eyes on Naomi, Stefan let a disarming smile creep across his face.  "Alright," he said, turning to Joan, "Would you care to come over here?"

Joan looked apprehensively at Naomi.  "What's going on?" she asked with forced casualness.

"Don't worry, you'll love it," said Naomi with unforced enthusiasm.  "Trust me."

Joan grinned and shrugged as she walked toward Stefan.  Naomi surreptitiously closed and bolted the office door.

Naomi's palms tingled as she watched Stefan remove his ring.  She followed Joan and then walked around her, not quite standing at Stefan's side.  Joan's expression had already returned to slight impatience.

"Give me your hand," said Stefan, and Joan snorted and complied.  Naomi's mouth had gone dry, and she wet her palate with her tongue.  She focused on Stefan's words after enclosed his ring in Joan's fist, followed by the four taps, "toon-toon-toon-toon."

Naomi couldn't restrain her gleeful anticipation any longer as Joan turned to her with a look of confusion and betrayal.

"Grab her pack," said Stefan, pulling Naomi out of the moment.  She hurried behind Joan to seize the heavy backpack just as Joan dropped out of it, leaving her jacket dangling, the sleeves still through the straps.  She set the pack behind Stefan's desk while he fished through the pile of Joan's clothes.

Naomi heard Joan before she saw her, a squeaky yelp as Stefan's fingers found one of her legs and lifted the tiny woman out, upside down and wriggling.  She had seen Joan in various states of undress before, but never completely naked.

Joan's butt, boobs, and thighs bounced as she tried to escape Stefan's grasp.  She was too absorbed in fending off her giant molester to look at Naomi, but even at their tiny size Joan's wide eyes had popped even wider with terror.

Joan remained just as helpless when Stefan transferred her to his fist and brought her upright.  He left her arms outside his fingers, so she was free to futilely attempt to prise them open and to pitifully pound on them with her tiny fists.  She even grabbed at the ring—which Naomi had missed seeing Stefan retrieve—hoping to somehow reverse the spell.

Naomi hunched forward and brought her face close to the four-inch-tall woman clutched in Stefan's fist.  Joan finally saw her and cried out, "What the fuck, Naomi?  What did he do to me?  Make him let me go!"

Her voice sounded tinny to Naomi, and her boobs popped out and onto the side of Stefan's index finger as she flailed her tiny arms about.  Naomi couldn't help extending her own finger and brushing Joan's blueberry-sized tits.

"Get the fuck away from me, you bitch!" shrieked Joan, trying without success to obstruct Naomi's probes.  "You're a pair of fuckin' pervs!  God, somebody help me!  Fuckin' leave me alone, Jesus!"

Naomi drew back and looked up to see Stefan watching her intensely.  Joan's violent cursing suddenly seemed comic and trivial.  Stefan was poised, waiting for Naomi's response.  She took a quick breath, licked her lips and started to speak, but she could find no words.  All she could manage was a sharp, abbreviated giggle and a goofy grin.

Stefan blinked and gave a broad smile.  "I think it's my treat this time," he said, lifting Joan toward Naomi and opening all of his fingers except his thumb and index finger.

Naomi watched in wonder as Stefan lifted her tiny friend past her face.  "What the fuck are you doing?" shouted Joan, writhing in panic.  Naomi let part of herself share Joan's mystification, because she wanted also to anticipate the coming realization as long as possible.

As she was raised above Naomi's head, Joan started kicking her legs more wildly.  "Catch her legs with your lips and tongue," advised Stefan.

"What?!" yelled Joan.  "Fuck you!  Don't even thinking it, you bitch perv freak!"

Naomi was surprised at how much glee she felt hearing this from her tiny friend.  Her smile broadened even further, and she tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide.  Stefan lowered Joan toward Naomi's mouth, her tongue undulating in anticipation.

"No, Naomi, please, no!" screamed Joan, furiously pushing against Stefan's pinched fingertips.  Naomi's lips stretched out and closed around one, then the other of Joan's tiny thrashing feet.

As Joan's legs slid in further and Naomi's tongue helped pin the gerbil-sized woman to her palate, Naomi was struck by the curious tastes and sensations flooding her mouth.  Joan's feet tasted of sweat, the tough skin repelling saliva and the tiny toenails gouging her gums and tongue.  Joan's skin then turned soft and warm as her calves, thighs, and ass passed between Naomi's lips.  Naomi's tongue slathered over every flank and fold of Joan's squirming abdomen, tasting the salt of her sex and the funk of her fear.

Stefan let go of Joan just as Naomi's lips rolled over Joan's careening breasts.  Joan was still screaming bloody murder, but Naomi could no longer make out her words or even truly register her voice.  Naomi's world now consisted only of her tongue, teeth, lips, and throat.  All that flesh that Joan used to flaunt was now Naomi's to suckle and gnaw.  Over and over, Naomi delighted in swishing Joan's tender ass between her jaws and raking her molars across the pliant flesh.

Naomi had brought her face back forward, her eyes closed in rapture as Joan, now face down, pounded on her lower lip and chin.  Naomi opened her eyes to see Stefan watching her closely, drinking in her every reaction.

He smiled and said, "When you're ready, take a deep breath through your nose, put your head back again, then send her down."

"No, please!" screamed Joan, who was then muffled as Naomi's lips puckered closed in puzzlement.  Swallow Joan? she thought.  Wouldn't that kill her?  Of course it would.  This is what you wanted all along, right?  This wasn't going to have a happy ending, not for everybody.  Stefan knew it.  You knew it too.

Naomi nodded to herself, inhaled deeply, and tilted her head back.  Her tongue pulled Joan back and her lips pushed her past her teeth, but Joan squirmed and flexed as much as she could, even when Naomi's closing incisors threatened to sever her forearms.  Joan's legs struck Naomi's uvula, almost triggering her gag reflex.  Joan continued to grasp at Naomi's teeth, finding handholds that Naomi couldn't grind away.  She's too big, thought Naomi, I'll never get her down.

With her head still back, Naomi opened her eyes and looked at Stefan pleadingly.  He raised his eyebrows at her, and she finally shook her head.  He pursed his lips and nodded.

"It's always tough with someone you know," he said, holding out both his hands, palms open.

Naomi did her best not to gag as she hunched forward and expelled Joan from her mouth with her tongue.  Joan continued to struggle, of course, and she struck her head and limbs on Naomi's teeth before dropping into Stefan's waiting hands.

Stefan closed his fingers around the still-squalling Joan as Naomi put her hand to her throat.  "I'm sorry," she whispered, "She was too big."

"No worries," said Stefan.  "How did she taste?"

"Amazing.  The skin, the warmth, the fight; absolutely nothing is hidden, and it's all on your tongue."

Stefan raised his eyebrows appreciatively and nodded.  "I also get what you mean about wanting more meat," said Naomi, licking her lips.

Sputtering, Joan's voice finally broke through to Naomi again.  "You people are fucking crazy!  Let me go!"

Naomi and Stefan both looked down on Joan in amusement.  He collected both her little arms and pinched them together over her head, then lifted her out of his palm and dangled her in front of his face.

"Merry Christmas to me," he said a wag of his eyebrows and a feral grin.

Joan was drained, but she found the will to resume struggling as Stefan snaked his tongue over her tits and between her legs.  He lifted her up and lowered her into his mouth, but her progress paused while he let his teeth graze over her plump derrière.

Naomi stepped closer to watch Stefan's face as he swished the tiny woman about his mouth.  Any sounds of protest Joan might still have had in her were drowned out by Stefan's low moans of pleasure.  Naomi smiled to see that Stefan took no less enjoyment from Joan's bountiful rolls than she had.

Stefan opened his eyes and then his mouth, and Naomi could see the exhausted Joan, lying limp on his restless tongue.  He kept his jaws open wide as he raised one hand and slightly waved his fingers.  Joan revived in alarm when he matched his finger-wave with a consonant-less salutation:  "Aye-aye."

Naomi saw Joan's limbs scramble as Stefan's tongue flipped her backwards.  It seemed impossible due to the movement of his tongue, but Naomi would always imagine she remembered seeing Joan's wide eyes disappear into the dark as her final cry of "No—" was obscured by Stefan's slick swallow.

She hurried forward to put her ear to Stefan's chest, trying to detect anything further from Joan, but all she could hear was Stefan's heart and stomach.

"Are you digesting her?" she asked, still straining.

"Not yet, the acid's too weak," rumbled Stefan.  "She'll suffocate first, unless I bring her back up."

Naomi drew back and looked into his eyes.  "Will you?"

Stefan blinked and smiled, then slowly shook his head.

She put her ear back to his chest for a few moments more, but there was no more sign of Joan.  Her old friend had just disappeared entirely inside her new boss.

Naomi stepped back from Stefan, staggering a bit.  She avoided his eyes, looking at the desk and floor where she herself might have met a fate similar to Joan's.  She knew she should feel guilt for having roused Stefan's appetite.  No—her appetite.

She noticed Stefan gathering Joan's clothes and pack.  He found her phone.  "Do you know the password?" he asked.  Naomi shook her head.

He stood up and put his hand on her arm.  "Did anyone see her come down here?"

"No."

"Do you think she told anyone she was coming to see you after work?"

"Probably not."

He took each of her shoulders in his hands.  "That was some treat," he said.  "We're gonna savor it a while.  But right now you should do what you usually do after work on a Friday."

She finally met his eyes and nodded her understanding.  She glanced one last time at Joan's pack, then turned and left.

She absently gathered her coat and bag and made her way to the train.  She made it all the way to her stop before she realized she hadn't for a moment worried about what Stefan was doing with Joan's stuff or whether they'd ever be caught.  She had assumed that they were perfectly safe, that there would be no consequences.  Instead, she had been remembering how good Joan's haunches had felt between her jaws, and now she was regretting that she would likely have to settle for takeout carne asada for dinner tonight.