* * * * *
Janice Dean--Director of Marketing for GTS, Inc.--was in the middle of a wet dream when she heard the noise.
She had been dreaming that she was a giantess chasing a bunch of elementary school-age spoiled brats. Each one that she crushed beneath her sandals causing her to have an almost orgasmic response! But, just as she had cornered the last of them, her left foot raised above their crying-and-pleading faces, she suddenly heard a familiar "thunk" from the skies over head. This, in turn, made her eyes fly open. Naturally resulting in a moment or two of disorientation.
She sat up in bed, looking at her surroundings. Nothing, however, looked out of the ordinary. Not, that is, at first glance. It was only as her head passed the sliding glass doors to the balcony, overlooking her expensively maintained backyard, that her head snapped back. Noticing how a sudden gust of night wind made the translucent satin curtains blow inward.
Positive she had closed and locked the left-hand door, she got out of bed and anxiously tip-toed over to make doubly certain it would be secure, this time. But, even as her right hand reached out to grasp the handle, someone else's left hand grabbed hold of her wrist!
Janice immediately tried to scream. She was silenced, however, by a pair of of right-hand fingers planting themselves atop her carotid artery. Fingers that exerted just enough pressure to knock her out. In short?
A real-world version of the Vulcan neck pinch.
When Janice reawakened, the first thing she saw was what she first took to be a giant lingerie ad. Then, she realized something.
"Those look like a pair of...wait a minute. They are! Those are a pair of my panties!! How...?"
"You have been shrunken, Janice Dean. Alias Happy Camper!
And I compliment you on keeping such a svelte figure at your age. Because this pair are a perfect fit on me, as well!"
Janice involuntarily gasped at hearing her computer screen name used by this giant (yet plainly female) intruder. For there was only one website where she used it and only a handful of people who knew that. Because they subscribed to it, too!
"Who are you?" she demanded (despite her small size): "And how do you know my secret? Which one of those bastards...? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
That last part was screamed in terror as she saw the giant, shapely posterior descend upon her like a pile driver. When the Phantom Miko was sure the little pervert was no longer among the living, she stood back up and removed the blood-stained panties.
"Three down," she muttered: "Three to go."
* * * * *
WILLOW GLEN,
SAN JOSE, CAL.
(2:30 A.M./PDT)
The owner of the intrusive fist pounded four more times on the front door before it finally opened to reveal the groggy-but-indignant face of the houses's owner.
"Who the frig...?!"
"Mr. David West? I'm Deputy Michael Pfeiffer; Santa Clara County Sheriff's Department. This is my partner, Deputy Elizabeth Drummond. We need you to come with us, please."
"At this hour??? What the frig for?"
"We need to ask you some questions concerning the disappearance of Jeremiah Chadwick...and kiddie-porn."
tbc