-“I’m telling you it’s one of those!” muttered Mal-Jabloki, looking around as if fearful to be overheard, despite the fact they were in their room, and the door was closed and latched.

- “Don’t be ridiculous” said Trano, “look at him! It’s completely harmless! Right, Tloche?

Cantlutloche did not answer; in truth, she was barely aware of her two roommates’ presence. She was completely transfixed by the miniature man looking up at them from the kitchen table. Is he real?!?

After she had uncovered him, Tloche and her friends had stared in disbelief at the green-clad minikin in her hand. Although it had squirmed like crazy when her fists were loosely closed over his body, once he was out, he froze like a deer in the headlights, mouth agape, looking up at their downturned faces in turn. Just then a group of kids and women ran into the park out of nowhere with balls, tarps and baskets with food, so Tloche simply covered the man again and half walked, half-jogged towards their room. Uncharacteristically, she did not pay any mind to her tarp, the radio or the bowl with fruit. Jablo, in character, went after her arguing, and Trano picked up the mess and ran after them.

Tloche had deposited the man in the kitchen table. By now the little guy was drenched in her hand sweat. His eyes were as wild as a scared rabbit, looking pale, but he managed to stand rather defiantly, looking up at the three women bending over to look at him.

-“In Bitagweh…” the two other women rolled their eyes. Jablo was prone to unasked-for rants that left it very clear she thought Easterners like Trano and Tloche were slovenly and careless. Bitagweh was not famous for their civil liberties, unlike the carefree Casibare, as Trano and Tloche. “they called these things the little people, and there is a standing reward, in cash, for turning them in; they are a menace!”.

- “Well, here in Casibare, we just thought your dear leader was even more of a kook than we thought”, said Trano, wryly. “Not happy with trying to find enemies everywhere, now he was also at war with fairies and sprites! Nobody in this side of the pond took that news about little green men from space seriously”.

- “Well, they are real enough”, added Jablo, pointing an indignant finger at the man. Tloche winced when the sudden movement of the petite blonde made him flinch. He already had his ears covered with his tiny hands. “they have advanced weapons and…”

- “Pshew!” Guffawed Trano “He’s dressed in filthy rags, dirty and scared out of its wits”. Tloche frowned at the casual use of “it” by Trano.

- “Don’t be so loud!” finally weighed in Tloche. “You are scaring him!” kneeling beside the table. Speaking almost in a whisper, she turned to the man and said “Don’t worry little man, you’re safe with us. I am Cantlutloche and these” she pointed in turn at the redhead and the blonde “are my friends Fisotrano and Petele Mal-Jabloki. what is your name?” she made extra-sure to utter Jablo’s full name, as she resented abbreviations, but…

- “Hey! You did not have to tell him my name!” objected Jablo. The little man, realizing what was asked of him, said something neither of them could catch in a wee voice. Seeing their frowns of incomprehension, he repeated himself louder.

-“Sorry, what?” said Tloche.

-“He said Paah-shoh something”. Said Trano. “I don’t think he speaks our language “. The little guy continued talking, clearly straining his voice to be heard, but the three girls just looked at each other and then at him, uncomprehending. His face fell. Tloche felt a pang of pity. Can’t imagine what must be going through his head right now!

-“Hi… Paah-tshoh?” said Tloche. She beamed as the little man smiled ruefully and waved at her.

Then Jablo, putting her glasses on, bent even more to get a better look, and gasped. “He’s bleeding!” the two other women kneeled in turn to each side of Tloche, cooing.

- “You’re right!” Trano said.

- “Help me out, Trano. Hold him while I take those rags off. My Gods, his boots are all bloody!” As Trano reached for him, the little man gave two steps back, before seemingly realizing there was no way out and simply stood there, looking warily at the approaching fingers. Tloche saw with dismay that his left foot left two tiny, bloody footprints on the table. “I’ll go get my kit”. She then darted into her room.

In the meantime, Trano had pinched the man by his midsection with thumb and forefinger, feeling him tremble under her fingers. She turned him delicately and made him lay on the table. Jablo and Trano’s faces grew even closer. She then changed her grip and slid her fingers up his body, catching his arms with her other hand and lifting them forcefully over his head, and then she pinned them to the table. Now he was sprawled over it, even more helpless. He did not try to resist.

Tloche returned, clutching a bright yellow purse. Placing it open near the table, she kneeled and looked attentively at Paah-tshoh, considering how best to proceed. The man was wearing  turtleneck, long-sleeved and close-fitting dark green-blue overalls, and had matching canvas boots, tightly laced with an unknown material. There were no buttons nor seams that she could see in his garments, but his left side was dark with blood down his left leg, and his boot was drenched in it. There was a ragged tear in his clothes near his waist.

-“How to get this off him?” She wondered aloud.

-“I think we’d better ask him to” Said Trano. “Ïn his place, I would shit myself if a giant ripped off my clothes with no words exchanged” Looking pointedly at Pah-shoh, she released him. He sat up, looking up at Tloche.

- “But he does not understand our speech!” said Tloche, too shrilly, she realized. She breathed deeper, trying to calm herself. Meanwhile, he continues to bleed, she fretted.

-“I remember our dear Jablo here was quite good in her first year at making herself understood with gestures and hand signs before she weaned off her Northish and learned to speak and write proper Casibar-kem”.

Jablo, blushing, stood up and, looking directly at the diminutive figure on the table, pointed at him and mimicked the act of unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it aside with a flair. They all giggled. To everyone’s delight, Paah-tshoh joined in, holding his left side gingerly. He looked in disbelief as his hands came up bloody, ostensibly noticing he was hurt for the first time. Then he reached into his turtleneck and slid his hand down to his belly. As if by magic, his dress split up, revealing a white undershirt and shorts. He stepped out of his overalls and put them aside, but as he reached to touch his wound, Tloche reached with her finger and prevented it, shooing his hands aside.

- “No.” she added, sternly. He acquiesced, sheepishly. “I’m going to need a repeat performance, Jablo, Sorry. I need him out of these filthy clothes”.

Rolling her eyes, Jablo did as asked. Looking up at them, wide eyed, the little man hesitated. Trano lifted an eyebrow and he shrugged and first he took his undershirt off. Then he stopped. Trano’s eyebrow climbed higher. Paling visibly, he turned aside and did as asked, quickly covering his crotch with both hands.

Tloche got her head closer and sucked air through her teeth. The other two women’s heads grew closer to the tiny man.

-“That looks ugly” said Jablo.

He had a nasty-looking gash running from his waist down his inner thigh, almost down to his knee. It did not seem deep, and had mostly stopped bleeding. Mostly. It’s not as if he has has much blood to spare in, thought Tloche glumly... his tiny, well made body. He was not overtly muscular, but was clearly fit, with noticeable pecs and a relatively wide chest. He was tanned all over, not a pale spot on him (does he sunbathe naked?). He had a very well-kept short beard. Her traitorous eyes wandered to his hands, covering… blushing, she averted her gaze, and as she looked to her roommates, she noticed they all were staring at the almost naked man in almost reverent silence. It stretched uncomfortably. Tloche coughed.

-“Trano, please hold him again. I do not want him touching his wound until I have dressed it properly. I want his hands out of the way”.

- “Right. Here I come, Paah-tshoh” said Trano in a small, unconvinced voice, her hands hovering hesitantly over the small figure on the table. He sat down.

Tloche then rummaged in her bag for a pair of tiny scissors, a small strip of adhesive finger bandages and cut a strip thin enough, she judged, to fit Pash-tshoh wound. She got alcohol and wound a bit of gauze moistened with disinfectant on the tip of a tongue depressor split lengthwise in half. When she turned to the man, Trano, her lips in a thin line, was pinning Pah-tshoh arms, stretched over his head. He was looking at the ceiling, blushing and avoiding their eyes. His legs were stretched over the table, rigid; despite his self-conscious attempts to be modest, his crotch was exposed and clearly visible.

-“Be careful, Cantlutloche, he is trembling like a leaf”. Added a very serious Trano, who was looking away. Jablo was gaping openly at the small naked figurine, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, clearly unaware of the dumb face she was making. You do not mind staring at the cocks of alien invaders, do you?

Trembling herself, Tloche bent to the task. She took the chance to look covertly at the bird nesting in the man’s crotch. He was well endowed, so much that his member was going to be moved out of the way, so his wound could be treated, she noticed with an unwelcome but undeniable thrill of excitement.

When she was thirteen, she clearly remembered being at the movie hall with her parents. She did not remember what movie came afterwards, but she remembered clearly a short commercial flick that was played before. On it, a handsome small man, an adventurer, rappelled down the body of a young woman. He was small enough to fit in her hand.

The woman was dressed in a white shirt and tight, light blue slackers and was smiling mischievously at the little man climbing down her body. Tloche clearly recalled the tingling sensation in her breasts and crotch as she, breathless and flushed, watched the short clip play. Nobody seemed to find anything improper at the clip, and she was thankful for the dim light of the hall. She was never able to see the clip again, and nobody she ever asked about it recalled it. Looking at the naked man in her table, she again, ten years later, felt the same arousal, but now she knew what it was and what it meant. Desire. She realized, her breath catching.

Flushing furiously, Tloche reached out with her pinkie and tried to move the little manhood out of the way so it was not dabbed with alcohol. Pretty sure that he would not thank me for smearing his junk with disinfectant. Both Jablo and Paah-tshoh gasped in unison when she touched him there.

-“What happened?” a startled Trano, who had her gaze averted, looked down at the man she was holding down. “Oh my Gods Tloche, why are you…”

- “It’s in the way” said a flustered Tloche through her teeth, red as a beet. “It’s too big and I don’t want to rub alcohol in his… thingy”. The stubborn organ refused to remain aside and maddeningly, it quickly flopped back into place between his legs as soon as her finger stopped holding it aside.

- “I give up. Tlano, I will need you to hold it so I can dress his wound”.

- “Um…”

- “I need both hands”.

- “Right. But remember it was your idea”. Then Trano reached down with her free hand, and clumsily lifted the small member and held it pinned to the little man’s abdomen. He remained quiescent. All three women pointedly avoided looking at Paah-tshoh eyes. Tloche used her index and thumb to spread Paah-tshoh legs and started to dab disinfectant in his wound. She could feel him stiffen under her fingers, but he did not utter a sound. Then she started applying the adhesive bandage strip. His legs were quite hairy. This is going to hurt getting it off. Oh… look at his tiny balls… She was almost sorry Trano’s fingertip now had his pecker covered.

- “Er… girls…” Said Trano. “I think it is getting hard”.

- “No time for jokes” said Tloche, sweating under the strain of working on so small a patient struggling to get the tiny bandage in place, and trying not to let her disturbing arousal show.

- “Not kidding” Tlano took her hand away.  His penis was now standing on its own, far from its former floppy state.

- “Oh, for Heaven’s sake” muttered Jablo, still gawking unabashedly. “It looks like it hurts… are you sure you did not damage anything”

- “Not a chance; looks pretty normal to me. His girlfriend must be a happy girl” said Trano, wryly. Tloche, if possible, flushed even more with a surprising pang of jealousy. “You’ve gotta admit the gall of the little fella” continued Trano. “I don’t think many men would be sporting that in this situation… are you finished, Tloche?”.

-“I… am…” she muttered in a shaky voice. I sound pathetic. “I am”, she repeated more assuredly. Tlano took away her other hand. Paah-tshoh immediately covered his pudenda with his hands and lay there, eyes closed.

-“Well, this has gone far enough” Added Jablo, finally looking away. “Now we have to give him to the patrollers”.

-“Over my cold, dead body”. Said Cantlutloche, standing to her full height, and startling everyone, including her, with her cold, resonant voice. Even Paah-tshoh opened his eyes. “I’m not letting him out of my sight”.