There was nothing left of Benjamin Modine.

            Technically, there was still a little of him. One inch, to be precise. Half the length of a human thumb, if he was lucky. But to the man, who’d fallen so far he couldn’t even remember now how high he’d begun, four inches might as well have been zero. It might have been negative.

            And in practical terms, soon, if he continued to shrink like he had been, it would be negative. Subatomic, perhaps.

            Despite the cloudiness of those vague numeric terms, Ben did understand a few things now which were entirely irrelevant to his current existence yet impossible to shake:

            Drinking ForLit had activated his bodily shrinkage, to be sure, but it wasn’t the only factor. He sped up the process, he realized only too late, by experiencing sexual urges. The harder he got, the lower his biology was encouraged to reduce him on a molecular level. Orgasms were the biggest killer. They robbed him of inches in seconds: the costliest pleasure he could imagine. The one at the club, especially, had melted him to a trinket.

            Today, barely five weeks since he helped ignite this nightmare, Ben spent his nights in Ms. Hoshoku’s office, living in an hold hamster cage, complete with wood shavings and tiny container for him to drop his waste. Twice a day, he was offered water and fibrous food clumps. He was granted merciful sleep for roughly five hours a day. The rest of the time, meaning every waking moment aside, was dedicated to Ms. Hoshoku and uncompromising devotion to her ass.

            Ben was no longer a beggar on the floor, holding his breath until his face was brushed by those lunar cheeks and their accompanying sweet odors. There was nothing between him and Ms. Hoshoku now. No air, no skirts, no panties. Hardly his own skin, in fact.

            Every day now, as he went from six to five to four to two inches, Ms. Hoshoku wadded Ben into a crumpled cylinder in her godlike fist, parted her ass cheeks with far more delicacy and love than she handled his naked body, and slid him into the crevasse of her gorgeous, warm, earthy crack.

            Then she’d snap her panties back on, pat down the skirt, and return to her day with nary an acknowledgement of his existence. Other than the rocking and jiggling about of her rump upon the chair, enjoying the comfort of her personal attendant, there was no communication.

            Benjamin had his simple instructions, and they were to be followed without fail: licking her skin. Tasting her filthy essence. Jamming his tiny tongue into the wet, wrinkled orifice of her lovely anus and sliding his lips as far around as he could manage. That was all he was now to her.

            When the day of work was concluded, and probably a couple more billion bottles of ForLit sold to the female-dominated population, the boarding process was reversed. Ms. Hoshoku stood in the solitude of her new presidential CEO office which took up the entire top floor of Blend and lowered her pants. Generally it took a little prying to pluck Benjamin’s moist, smelly little body out from between her juicy ass cheeks. He was truly dwarfed on a scale he could’ve never imagined. The woman’s butt was easily double as large as it had ever been before in her earlier life, and she was filling the ample space with a nude man the size of a cigarette. It took no adhesives or additional pressure to keep him snugly inside her ass; the mere strength of her two cheeks, clapped together and constantly flexing her glutes, was plenty to entrap Ben within his prison.

            “You know, Benjamin, I’m so glad you decided to come around to my view of things,” Ms. Hoshoku said unexpectedly to Ben that morning as she tapped a few pellets of cat food into the hamster cage for him to consume hungrily. Sitting at her customized six-foot-tall desk, the woman could almost convince Ben she was something average. Just for a second, that she was a human.

            But of course, she wasn’t. She was a dark-haired, fair-faced, twelve-foot-six archangel the likes of which Ben could never have crafted in his wildest dreams two months before. The silky black rivers of her raven hair, those graceful olive hands, her pillowy jugs always aching to tear through the seams, and of course that rotund ecosystem of an ass Ben was gifted inside every day.

            “Me too, Ms. Hoshoku,” Ben said obediently as he nibbled on his breakfast. “I’m glad.”

            “I didn’t believe at our first meeting you would bow completely. Not at first, anyway,” she explained. “I knew you were weak, of course, but at the time I saw something inside you that may have resisted my new world. Something mannish and stupid and disgusting that I would’ve had to crush. Maybe even crush you completely, as I’d have had no use for you. But you proved me wrong, Benjamin.”

            “Thank you, Ms. Hoshoku.”

            “You’re truly a credit to your nearly extinct species of man, Benjamin. Beings like you are what I envisioned when my elite Blend techs and I crafted the concoction to reduce the size of men and increase the scale, virility, and intelligence of women. There’s so much we could accomplish as humans, with women in bodies befitting their souls, and men making use of themselves for their new leaders. Unfortunately, many of the men previously in power in the industry, the media, and the branches of government weren’t as useful as you. They resisted, and as a result, have been dealt with properly now,” Ms. Hoshoku explained. She drew a long slurp from an opened bottle of ForLit, draining the container in one mouthful.

            Ben couldn’t be sure, but he was almost positive he watched her stretch almost three inches taller from that one simple, massive gulp of blood-red miracle soda.

            He wasn’t surprised by a single word of this explanation. Though he’d known none of it for sure, Ben had long suspected the oncoming consequences from that first day when he noticed he was shrinking. Somehow, there was a certain peace to be found in receiving the wisdom gently from his owner before she removed him from the cage for his daily routine and duties inside her ass.

            Like he mattered enough, just that infinitesimal amount, to receive the truth.

            “I see,” he said approvingly.

            “Do you?” she wondered aloud.

            “I believe I do, Ms. Hoshoku,” he said. “I’m ready to be useful. However long that lasts.”

            “Benjamin, I can say, without even the shadow of a deception, that I hope you last as long as possible,” she said with what Ben detected to be the closest approximation of love in Ms. Hoshoku’s heart.

            This wasn’t the end, he realized. This was just a new beginning.

            “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome, Benjamin. Now, wrap your hands around your pathetic little cock, and start pumping it for me. I want to watch you shrink again before my eyes, before I put you back in your new home again for the day.”

            Only too pleased to oblige, with his spirit renewed by Ms. Hoshoku’s trust and “partnership,” Ben wiped his hands and clenched his member. Tugging it to life didn’t take a whole lot of effort, not with his beautiful boss and her immaculate lips, taunting breasts, and commanding hands hovering outside his caged world. He had all the inspiration he could ever want, right out there, all for him, and only for him.

            At this point in life, it was inconceivable to imagine any man on the planet foolish enough to resist the new way of things when they had this existence as a potential prize. Who could be selfish enough to want for more? Ben was embarrassed just to belong to a gender so unwilling to accept what was good for them.

            This wasn’t a corporate office anymore. This was the afterlife, and Ms. Hoshoku’s exposed, juicy, plump ass was the face of God.

            The woman stepped away from her desk, ducking just to keep from banging her shoulders on the upper rafters, and began to strip. It was all lost in sequence, revealing the perfection beneath like a sky-sized butterfly. Her jutting pumps, her slinky nylons, her bed-sized suit jacket, her billowing tablecloth skirt, the bucket-cups of her seductive bra, and the holy shroud of her panties: all of it removed on porcelain fingers and deposited on the floor beyond Ben’s vision.

            He tugged and pumped, squeezing himself toward another whopper of a climax. Breathless now, feeling the build-up of pressure and the requirement of orgasm. Still, he took his time, knowing the shrinking effect would be all the more potent if he dragged it out. If he really tortured himself with the waiting, simply gazing at Ms. Hoshoku’s alpine hips and looming ass cheeks swinging low and sweet for him. As he’d once witnessed and so now again, the woman’s parted derriere valley was brought to bear above his head. She watched him from over her shoulder, her dark eyes lousy with lust and need just as great as his, if not greater. Anticipating his downfall.

            Ben came after several sustained minutes of torment, buckling over on his knees in an appropriate bow to the woman who possessed his being in every way. He quaked with gratitude and unfettered happiness as he watched the cage walls wind higher, his body succumbing to the science of his invention. He was shrinking again, diminishing into the void. Hardly a millimeter now, if that.

            A smile.

            The cage door was unlatched, his body fished from the flakes between the vortex of Ms. Hoshoku’s thumb and forefinger. She could’ve smashed him to paste with a simple flinch, yet she didn’t, her massive form in control as always. As poignant and absolute as her oncoming ownership of the world, and possibly the universe beyond.

            Ben whispered a prayer to his goddess as he witnessed the blessed form of her anus draw near to consume him.