It was a difficult conversation, but both women were intent on getting through it, both the large, dumpy, middle-aged woman in jeans and a sweatshirt and the young, lean woman coincidentally dressed like her. They sipped their coffees, attracting no attention from anyone around them in Grindstone, and staged their bizarre conversation methodically.

“That’s impossible.”

“I thought so too, but it happened.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“You have to, there’s no other explanation.”

“People don’t get that small.”

“You saw him in the hospital, when you sat on him.”

“No, I saw him dead in my bed when I‌ rolled over.”

“He was alive when you took him into your butt.”

“I don’t remember any of that, because you got me shitfaced drunk.”

“I’m not responsible for your intake.”

“The only reason you went out with me was to get me drunk and end up stuffing that poor little man in my rear.”

Lynn was past denying this. She sighed heavily and watched the little disk of latte swirl around the bottom of her cup. “Nothing against you, Dorothy. I wouldn’t have even thought of you if you weren’t complicit.”

Dorothy reared. “What? How in Goddess’s name am I complicit at all?”

“You were sitting on him for a good hour or more, in your own office.”

“I never did.”

“You weren’t aware of it, but yeah, Derek ended up on your chair and you plumped yourself right down on him, farting all afternoon.”

Dorothy’s mouth opened and shut. She wanted to deny this blandishment but she knew what condition her digestive tract was in lately, and only a tiny man lodged under her rear could have had that kind of information. “I was completely unaware of this.”

“You also shit on him, before that.”

The room spun around Dorothy, who gripped the arm of her seat to steady herself. “That’s foul. You’re just being foul for shock’s sake. You’re going too far, young missy.”

“It was the same day. You came into the bathroom after I did. I dropped him into the toilet on accident, and I was washing my hands when you came in and used my stall. Remember?”

Dorothy did. It was that lame lie about losing her phone in the stall. She was struck by how insistent Lynn was on going back into that stall and none other.

“So, poor little Derek was swimming around in the bowl when you dropped your pants and unleashed on him.” Lynn grimaced and shivered in her seat. “I heard it all. Maybe you need more fiber or something.”

“But it’s fiber that makes me—” Dorothy cut herself off. She pictured the scene, tugging down her polyester slacks, absently turning around and plopping down on that cold, resin seat, and just letting herself go. She had no idea Lynn was still there, and she had absolutely no idea Derek was underneath her. That meant he saw… well, everything. To say nothing of the human waste she dumped upon him. “How did he get out of there? Was he okay?”

“I waited around until you left, and then I fished him out and washed him down. It was fucking disgusting.” Lynn peered into her cup again and, deciding the image of a white basin with brown running around the bottom was a bit too suggestive, set her cup on the table and hugged herself.

Dorothy was sick with embarrassment. “Why me? Why are you picking on me like this? I didn’t want to… poop all over Derek. I liked him, I thought he was cute. Annoying, lazy, but not a bad guy.”

Lynn turned to lock Dorothy’s gaze. “That’s because he wasn’t targeting you. You have no idea what he was like, all the innuendos, the jokes he makes when I’m in earshot.” She paused. “Made. The jokes, the comments he made, constantly asking me out and calling me horrible things when I refused. So it just built up, the resentment. It stacked up inside me like a warehouse of hatred. I wanted to punch him or push him out the window, but I just kept it all inside me until one day…” She flung her fingers wide. “Poof. He shrunk down. If I had to guess, it’s just the big release of psychic energy or something. Have you ever heard of anything like this?”

Dorothy hadn’t. She thought about Derek, tall and handsome, walking around the office innocently while harassing the younger, cuter women. Of course he wouldn’t pay any attention to Dorothy. But it was so nice rubbing him on her crotch, draping him over herself like a napkin or a veil. To hold a tiny person like that in her hand, a real person, a real man in her hand… “That wasn’t fair of you to use me like that. You got me so sick the next day, and then I had to dispose of the body.”

“I’m sorry, Dorothy. I‌ wasn’t thinking clearly, I was just reacting to a bizarre circumstance.”

“And it wasn’t fair to give him to me when you’d already taken him away.”

The blonde tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I didn’t know he was a person, at first. He looked realistic, but just detailed, like an expensive toy. And…” Why was she telling Lynn this? She bit her lip and looked down, where her large thighs stretched out her jeans.

“Dorothy? What are you saying?” Lynn’s hair spilled over the table as she leaned into Dorothy’s space, grinning. “Were you into that? Did you like having a tiny, little man of your own?”

Heat welled up in Dorothy’s cheeks. Her armpits were suddenly clammy with sweat. “I’m not saying that. I’m just saying it’s a hell of a thing to tease a woman with, giving her this incredible gift and yanking it away again.”

Lynn rested her chin in her palm and tapped her front teeth. “What if I got you another one?”

“That’s not funny.”

“No, Dorothy, listen. If I did this once, I could probably do it again. I haven’t tried, but there’s no harm in trying, is there?”

The heart in Dorothy’s ribs bounced off the walls. “Do you really think you could?”

Lynn nestled back in her seat. “Who do you like, in the office? Who do you want?”

“I… I don’t…” Dorothy hadn’t considered this at all. She tried to run down the roster of employees but kept seeing the women in charge, the women she answered to. She didn’t want a tiny woman. She wanted another tiny man, but who was there?

James. He was very handsome, so tall and strong. Dorothy loved his skin, the suggestion of muscles beneath those well-tailored shirts. But no, James would be missed, he was too prominent in the office. It had to be someone unnoticeable, someone new and menial. Was there anyone like that? She tried hard to recall, but her ambit was so small, there were so few people she had to deal with.

Sensing internal conflict, Lynn suggested a couple names in the office. “Ilyas?” “Don’t be silly, he’s too important.” “Ethan?” “He’s not really my, you know.” “Yeah, I‌ know. How about Warren?” “Where’s he work?” “He’s one of the copywriters.” “I can’t picture him.” “Neal?” “The tall, skinny guy?” “No, the… forget it. How about David?” “No, he’s mean to me. I don’t like to look at him.”

This went on until Dorothy finally threw up her arms. “This isn’t working. This is ridiculous! Look at us, going through all the men in our office like a grocery list. This is sick, what are we doing?”

Undeterred, Lynn said, “What about Simon?”

Dorothy paused. “Who’s Simon?”

“He’s like Derek but with a lot less power.”

“Where does he work?”

“At the front desk. He’s an intern. Have you seriously never met Simon?” Lynn put her hands on her hips and looked at Dorothy incredulously.

“I’m just not placing him…”

“Here.” Lynn lurched over to fish her phone from her pocket. “This was a couple weeks ago. I got a picture of him to welcome him on our blog.” She held out a large, glassy slab.

Dorothy regarded it critically, then slowly leaned in and took the phone. “Oh, my Goddess, he’s a little charmer. How long’s he been with us? He looks like he’s quite taken with you.”

Lynn pursed her lips. “I thought he was making a face for the camera, but he’s been kind of a pest. He always stops me with a joke or small talk whenever I walk by his desk. And I’m kinda of trapped, he’s in the middle of it all and I’m at the end of the hall, I can’t avoid him.” Her eyes narrowed. “‌I bet I could build up enough energy to zap him.”

And so it was decided: Lynn would “prepare” Simon for Dorothy, and the three of them would meet at a nice restaurant within the next three days. “Wear something revealing, too. You’ve got some nice curves on you, you should play them up.” When Dorothy tried to deny this, Lynn insisted: “Look, he’s going to be a tiny little man under your control. You can show up in a muu-muu if you want: he can’t run away. You might as well show yourself off to him, right? Make yourself feel sexy? Get yourself in the mood?”

“Yes, but in public?”

“Who cares what anyone else thinks? You’re going home with a tiny little man! Who else gets that?” Lynn grinned toothily. “A little man all to yourself, to play with and love and throw away when you’re done with him.”

“I would never!”

“Okay, but you could if you wanted. Right? Aren’t you in control? Doesn’t his fate rest in your hands? You bet it does.” Lynn gathered her cup and Dorothy’s, wadding up their little paper napkins. “You’re going to be great. Have fun with it! Who knows if this’ll ever happen again?”

Dorothy watched her bus the dishes away, then come back for her backpack under the chair. She hugged the younger woman and they traded personal numbers. When would it be, Dorothy wanted to know, but Lynn said they had to wait until just the right moment so she could really build up a charge and unleash it on the poor, unwitting intern. Dorothy laid a hand upon her wide chest, trying to calm her heart, watching Lynn wave encouragingly as she left. She watched Lynn drop a couple ones in the tip jar, then hold the door open for a pair of squirrelly kids and their beleaguered mother. Past the seated customers and through the brushed steel frames of the windows, Dorothy watched ‌Lynn recede into the background as she walked to her car. She looked at her hands in her broad lap, her wrinkled hands, her fat fingers, and she wondered whether she’d made a mistake.

What she did not see was Lynn peeling off her hoodie and angrily unzipping her backpack in the trunk of her car. She did not see Lynn pull out a variety of outfits, snatching up a more fashionable blouse and stash the hoodie away. Even if she had, she might not have guessed that Lynn had shown up first and was waiting for Dorothy, to see what she wore, ready to change in the bathroom to match her as closely as possible, a subtler way to build rapport than taking her to another bar to get her sloshed.

# # #

Monday came and Dorothy was at her desk, slightly early, ready to take on the day. People slowly filtered in over the next half hour, taking up their positions, shaking off the weekend. The printer/copier ran through its comprehensive warmup rituals. Doors unlocked, greetings were exchanged, and Dorothy watched bodies pass by outside her door.

“Lynn!” she shouted at the slender bare legs scissoring by in a tight black skirt. “Good morning, Lynn! Today’s the day, right?”

Lynn gave her that toothy grin again, flanked by crossed fingers. “Wish me luck, I’ll do what I can!”

But nothing happened that day. It turned out Simon didn’t work every day in the office, just some days. He’d be in Tuesday.

Tuesday, Dorothy dressed in a sparkling turtleneck with a long loose-knit sweater jacket, hanging down to her knees. It was a little more casual than what she preferred, but she felt like taking a chance.

James performed a double-take, leaning into her doorway to grin at her. “Look at you, Miss Dorothy! All dressed up for a Tuesday. You got something special going on tonight?” Dorothy simpered and stammered her way through a denial, “just felt like sprucing up a bit. No reason.”

Lynn passed by a couple times, seeming not to hear Dorothy calling out to her. Pouting, she wondered if she might catch a glimpse of the new guy, at least. She picked out a new manila folder, stuffed it with random paperwork from behind her desk, and sauntered out into the foyer.

A young man sat in a large ergonomic chair upholstered in fake leather. His haircut was tidy and his clothes were clean, but they hung on him poorly, too boxy and wadded up on his lean frame. He’d be more comfortable in a T-shirt and shorts, Dorothy thought, though immediately she tried to picture him naked. Was he too boyish? Was he even old enough to be working here? Dorothy slowly let out a pent-up breath through her nostrils, studying him: no, she was old enough that anyone in their 20s looked like a baby. Still, she found it hard to believe he was drinking age. Maybe he wasn’t! Lynn didn’t say.

After some minutes of awkwardly ignoring her, Simon was compelled to speak up. “Yes, ma’am, can I help you with something?” His voice had the squawk of late puberty, or maybe that was her imagination.

“Hello, there… Simon, isn’t it?” Dorothy lifted her chin and smiled vaguely. “You can call me Dorothy, I do research analysis, right in that office over there.” She reached behind her, without turning away, to both point at the office and to thrust her breasts over the front desk, but she turned back too slowly to see whether he’d checked her out. All things considered, she had some pretty nice boobs, though this thought was immediately chased by one that made her feel ridiculous for proffering herself to someone young enough to be her son. “How do you like it here at Overmedia?”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “It’s all right, I guess. I‌ mean, I‌ just started, I don’t know.”

Dorothy leaned over, resting her elbows upon the desk, wishing she’d chosen something with a lower neckline than a damned turtleneck. “Have you worked in many other offices downtown?”

“No, actually, I’m not from Greenville. Just going here for college.”

“Oh, really? Usha Benton Memorial University?”

He nodded like a spasmodic jerk. “First semester.”

“That’s my alma mater, like a lot of people around here. What are you taking?”

Simon looked like he wanted to shrink in his clothes and disappear. “Dunno yet. Just gonna, kinda, take a bunch of stuff and see if I‌ like anything.” Lacking the graces to say something to get himself out of the conversation, he simply placed his hands on his keyboard and pretended to type.

“It’s good to keep your options open, Simon,” Dorothy said, pulling back from the desk. “In fact, sometimes it’s a good idea not to have any plans at all.” Was that suitably foreboding? She hoped so, sashaying back to her desk, where she realized she was three minutes late for a campaign rollout meeting downstairs.

Dorothy didn’t see Lynn for all of Wednesday, so there were no updates. She texted the blonde piece of fluff but didn’t hear back from her until after dinner, and even then it was just an emoji, a blonde woman shrugging.

Thursday, Dorothy couldn’t get more than a tight grin and a thumbs-up from Lynn, passing by her office. Simon was out Mondays and Thursdays, apparently. When was this supposed to happen? Was Lynn even trying? Dorothy didn’t know if she could wait another week! She felt stranded, misled, maybe even betrayed. She went into the office calendar and looked at Lynn’s schedule, and her heart sank. Lynn was completely booked up and pulled in a dozen directions. No wonder this was such a struggle for her: Lynn didn’t mean to blow her off. Sighing, Dorothy looked at the next couple of weeks in Lynn’s calendar, hoping to find a free hour or two. Maybe she could stopper it up with a fake meeting, a placeholder so Lynn could build up her magic and do her stuff.

Unless she was being lied to about the whole process…

#   #   #

“Hey, Lynn.” Simon appeared out of nowhere behind her.

Lynn finished punching commands on the LCD screen of the printer. “Hey, Simon,”‌ she said without looking up. She tossed back her ponytail; it swung right back down into the screen she was reading.

“I like your shoes.”

“Hm.”

“They’re nice shoes. …Where’d you get them?”

Her brow furrowed. “I don’t think I got them anywhere you’d shop.”

“Huh… oh, yeah!” Simon’s laughter sounded like a dog being strangled. “Having trouble with the copier? Anything I can help with?”

“Have you ever used this model before?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then nope.”

Through the silence interrupted by the quiet pings of the printer’s help screen, Lynn sensed a tension building up. She stopped what she was doing and slowly stood upright, then turned around. Simon had been hanging out by the door of the copy room behind her, quite obviously staring at her legs. When he saw her spot him, he pretended to get something to drink from the water cooler, but he didn’t have a cup and only doused his hand.

“Hey, Simon,” Lynn said slowly. “You’re new in town, aren’t you? Have you figured out where all the hot spots are around here?”

He straightened up but his rumpled clothes made him look like a discarded marionette. “No, uh, no. I mean, yeah, I’ve been to some clubs.”

“Have you? Which ones?”

Simon blushed and looked down. “All-ages shows, you know. I’m not 21 yet.”

“So, Tuffy’s? The Lamplighter?”

“Uh, no. I’ve been to Bench a few times, saw Mallet Sisters and Steak of Leisure.”

“Bench? Isn’t that in the, uh, Student Union?”

Simon shifted from foot to foot, wiping his hand on his slacks.

“I‌ was just wondering if you wanted to go out sometime.”

The young man looked like someone shoved a backup diesel generator up his butt. “What? Who? With me?”

“Yeah, of course you, dummy! Who else?” She leaned against the printer, folding her arms right under her breasts. Watching the goofy grin spread across his face felt like pouring cold slime down her back.

“I didn’t think you knew who I even was,”‌ he said, stepping toward her.

“Oh, I know who you are, all right. I know someone who really wants to meet you, too.”

He froze in his tracks and deflated. “I thought you wanted to go out with me.”

She laughed louder than she intended. “Me? And you? Please, you’re not in my league, little boy.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he said, straightening up. Finally he was able to make eye contact with her, but the rest of his body looked like it wanted to flee.

“No, I see how you stare at me when I‌ walk by, Simon.” She pushed off the printer with her hips. “You’re not subtle in the least, leaning over to check me out when I‌ walk back to my office. You’ve got me trapped, don’t you, in that one single hallway? I have to walk by you to get to my office, and all you have to do is wait for me to come out.” One of her pumps slowly swung around the other as she strode toward him. “Do you like that, Simon? Having women trapped like that? Women who are stuck right where you want them?” She took another step, flexing her fingers into fists. She tried to muster the hatred she felt before, but the young man looked pathetic. “Does it make you feel powerful, Simon? Do you feel like you’re in total control of them?”

“Uh, no. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Simon was blushing deeply and trying to edge around her.

“Can you imagine what it would be like to have those roles reversed, Simon? To have someone else in control of you? To live with someone else who has all the power and tells you what to do?” She reached up and untied her ponytail, letting her golden hair spill down the shoulders of her jacket. Maybe the magical tension had to do with his arousal, too, like with Derek. “It could be scary… but it could be really nice, too. No more responsibilities, no more confusing thoughts. Just belonging to someone else, someone who wants very few things out of you. Think about that, Simon, how simple that would make things. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“I have to get back to my desk,”‌ he stammered.

“There’s only one place you have to go now, Simon,” she said in a low growl. It was difficult to hate, really hate someone as hapless as the intern. He looked like he was going to puke. Lynn shook her head: no, he objectified her, just like Derek. He ogled her, he contributed to an unsafe work environment for women. He was young and stupid and weak now, but in a few years, he could be another Derek. Never mind that he was starting to cry right now…

“Goddess damn it.” Lynn couldn’t do it. Simon was a mere irritation compared to Derek. He wasn’t the crass, insulting, bullying tormentor that Derek was. She could just see his face now, that smirk, those leering eyes. She recalled how lively conversation dropped whenever she entered the area, how he and his friends would stare at her while she did her work and laugh behind her back.

So that was the answer: she needed her hatred of Derek to get her through this. She blocked out wimpy little Simon’s begging to step around her and get back to his computer, and she focused on her old harasser. All that energy was still in her, fresh and hot, and before she knew it there was a flash of heat and light.

Lynn caught herself against the printer, panting. It took a lot out of her, but it looked like it worked: Simon was nothing more than a pile of clothes in the middle of the copy room. Hastily she gathered them all up, feeling the tiny, squirming body in the middle of them. She trotted back to her office, passing Dorothy on the way. She hoisted the bundle of clothes briefly, letting the older, larger woman know that the operation was a success. Her heavy office door slammed behind her, and she threw the clothes to her desk and pulled them apart, searching for her little prize.

She found him. Lynn stared at the shrunken man, frozen in mid-toss of his ill-fitting dress shirt. Simon gaped at her, then searched the room in confusion, sprawled on her desk.

“Oh, shit,”‌ she said.

#   #   #

Simon woke up with an aching jaw and sore neck. He tried to roll over, finding himself folded up in an uncomfortable position, but he was swaddled in a blanket. No, that wasn’t quite right: there was fabric all around him, but it wasn’t binding him. He had the ability to move, somewhat. It was more like being zipped up in a roomy sleeping bag.

And then tossed into a storage garage or something. Hard objects jutted into his side, lay unyielding behind his back and against his head. “What the hell is this,”‌ he groaned, trying to look around. Everything was dark and cramped, and it freaked him out. His breathing sped up and he caught whiffs of candy, mint, perfume. Lots of different perfumes competing with each other. He found he could breathe easily, despite the cloying aromas crowding his nose, so he settled in to figure out how much room he actually had.

Looking around was useless, as there was no light and anywhere he turned bumped him into something. He cried out as he aggravated his neck. Why did it hurt? Dimly he recalled that it had something to do with how his head snapped to the side when he took the blow to his jaw. Wincing in the shadows, he gingerly touched his jaw and neck muscles to assess them for damage. Why did his jaw hurt? And where were his clothes?

Slowly the answers floated up to him like lost balloons at a birthday party. No, he wasn’t kidnapped and stored in a warehouse. His whole body flinched violently at the memory of Lynn’s fist rushing toward him, blocking out everything. Except she hadn’t punched him, exactly. She tucked her finger behind her thumb, then released it, and there was a flash of her nail polish before everything went black.

What happened right before that, though? And where were his clothes?

“Dorothy! Over here!” Simon heard Lynn’s voice call out brightly, if muffled.

“Lynn! Hey, Lynn, help me! I’m trapped somewhere!” he shouted back.

There was no response at all. Had he hallucinated it? Was he going crazy, cramped in the darkness, naked and injured? Was he hungry, thirsty? He ran his tongue around his mouth and drew breath to call out again.

“Look at you! You really went all out!” Lynn said again. She was speaking normally but someone had turned the volume up.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much?” This second voice was kind of familiar, but Simon couldn’t place it. But Lynn gave that speaker a name. Did he know a Dorothy? That was an old person’s name.

“Turn around, let’s get a look at you. I‌ can’t believe it! How come you never dress this sexy in the office?” “Oh, stop!” “No, seriously! You look like you hunt down antelope and devour them raw. Greenville better lock up the boys!” “Not so loud, you’re attracting attention.” “What attention? There’s nobody back here, just us. It’s just…” “Oh, no! What? What’s wrong?” “Nothing, but you’re tugging on your waistband. Turn around a sec.” “Are they too tight? They’re too tight. Are they?” “They look great, it just looks like they’re fighting you. You kinda gotta healthy backside, there, girl. Were you trying to hide it?” “I’m too fat for these!” “No, no.” “This is a disaster!” “No, no.” “Was this a bad idea? This was a bad idea. I look like a fool.” “Hey, knock that off. All right? Nothing but good vibes here. You look like a knockout, you’re sure to impress.” “Is he here? Oh, my Goddess! Is he here already?” “Oh, he’s here all right. Why don’t you have a seat?” “I’m too nervous to sit. Wait, isn’t that his chair?” “Nope, it’s all yours.” “Then that means… it worked?!” “Sure, it worked.” “What’s that look for? Did it work or not?” “Yes, it worked. Mostly.” “What does mostly mean? What’s that mean? Is he okay?” “Why don’t you have a seat and find out for yourself.”

Simon could hear the wooden legs of a chair scrape over a floor. The room he was in turned sideways, and everything in it leaped up and flew around, banging into him. He yelped and pushed hard, heavy, plastic objects away from his head, until enormous fingers slid around his waist and clutched him. He cried out and hammered at the large knuckle on his belly, but the fist hauled him out of the strange container and brought him into the light.

Lacquered wood struck his feet and his knees buckled. He rubbed his eyes as all the powdery floral scents gave way to steak and fried food. His stomach grumbled reflexively and he realized he was starving. But he was also being shaken, violently, unable to focus on anything. “Stand up, stand up!” Lynn was saying sharply. Where was she?

He was held aloft and he could make out globes of red glass glowing in iron chandeliers that looked like wagon wheels, hanging by chains from the ceiling. The sounds of a busy kitchen were in the distance, with tinny music coming along with them, superseded by louder music all around him. His legs hung in space until the hardwood surface rose once more, brushing his toes. Reflexively he tried to find his balance on the surface, and once his legs stiffened, the massive fist slowly relinquished its hold on him. Warm air washed over his stomach and thighs and bare butt, and vaguely his hands drifted to cover his penis. He was naked in a restaurant. Why was he naked in a restaurant?

A shrieking woman shattered the shell of his confusion. “Oh, my Goddess! He’s adorable!” Simon hunched defensively and looked around himself.

He was standing on a glossy platform, next to a huge glowing red globe and a billboard bearing menu items and prices. There was a gigantic woman in front of him and another behind him, like statues, except they were both moving and talking. He could only see them from the waist up. Everything else around them looked like a regular restaurant: Jubilee Manor, in fact. He’d followed a group of carousing college students here one night, lacking anything better to do. But it looked like they were in one of the private rooms in the back, large enough for a party but closed off from the regular patrons.

He was alone with two giantesses, standing naked between them on a raised platform, not far from large red, plastic canisters in front of each of them. The canisters looked like cheap drinking tumblers, like you might find at a restaurant like this. And that billboard looked like the faithful recreation of a menu. He looked at the floor beneath his bare feet, and a thought started to emerge from the back of his skull, an unacceptable and intrusive thought.

“He’s a bit larger than I was expecting, though,” said the older huge woman.

“Is that going to be a problem?” Simon spun around to look at the giantess behind him, and discovered that she looked a lot like Lynn, from the office. It was Lynn, just enormous and very close. He looked up at her as she looked over him: he could see under her jaw, up into her nostrils. It was kind of exciting, though the perspective made him dizzy. Was this a dream? He let out a strangled, nervous laugh. It could only be a dream.

He struggled to find his breath, in his surprise. “Hey… hi, Lynn,” he said, freeing one hand to wave at her. She ignored him, so he looked at the other giant woman.

She was staring dead at him. She absolutely did notice him, with huge, intense eyes and a dreamy grin twitching on her lips. Deep gouges of wine-red lipstick accented otherwise thin lips, and dark eyeliner emphasized her eyes. Her dark hair was swept to the side in a dramatic wave, with a large, ruby-colored earring glinting beneath it. A thin gold necklace rested around her chubby neck and disappeared between large breasts. She wore a voluminous ruffled blouse with a wide scoop neck that showed off her shoulders, her chest, and quite a lot of her tits. It bothered him how familiar she looked, almost as much as her gaze unnerved him. She looked like she was expecting something from him.

What could she want? He looked back at Lynn.

“I couldn’t get the same anger at him that I had for Derek. I think that was part of it.” Lynn finally looked down at him, so he smiled and waved again. She gave no indication that she noticed this. “I mean, I could try again, but I don’t know what would happen. I’m sorry, Dorothy, I really tried to do it again. This was the best I could muster.”

“Oh, no, don’t apologize. He’s beautiful.” Simon turned toward the older woman and realized who Dorothy was and how he knew her. She never wore this much makeup at work. She must be done-up for this restaurant. “In fact, he’s better than perfect. He looks like he can take some… I mean, he looks more durable.” She covered her mouth with four pudgy fingers and blushed a little bit. “I‌ just mean that Derek was so light and fragile. I could hardly touch him without fear of breaking him into pieces. But this guy looks like he’ll last a while.”

The older giantess reached for him, thick and wrinkly hands spreading greedy fingers as they grew closer. Simon stepped back, then turned to run to Lynn for protection. He only collided with her open palms, as solid as a brick wall, and then he staggered to keep upright as they shoved him into Dorothy’s grasp.