It was supposed to be a long weekend with his old college friends, the first time they’d all gotten together since graduating five years ago. They couldn’t afford a trip to Vegas, but the local casino had its own assortment of restaurants, themed bars, live shows, and as an added bonus, tables they could play all night without breaking the bank. They planned for a month, and everything was perfect, until it wasn’t.

            Will’s girlfriend planned their first joint trip to her parents’ house the same weekend without knowing. Three of Lance’s co-workers quit at once, and he was told he could take some of their weekend shifts or join them. Nick caught a nasty cold the day before. Which left Donovan holding two reserved rooms in the casino and no one to share them.

            When he called to try to move the reservation, he was told it was too close. He could use them or forfeit them. Taking pity, the concierge offered him a deal. He could refund one of the rooms for credit with the casino, good for gambling or for any of their included venues. It wasn’t the trip that he’d wanted, but with the money gone anyway, he figured what the hell. Donovan took the deal, and on Friday he arrived for a solo casino weekend.

            He stashed his things upstairs and prepared himself. Donovan liked to dress nice when he gambled. It enhanced the experience for him, even if the crowd here was more casual than an upscale Vegas casino. A subtly floral, fitted dress shirt, with a few buttons undone, no undershirt. Not shy, but not obnoxious. Nicely fitted slacks, and a blazer he was admittedly on the fence about. There was a “noir” themed bar he planned to visit later, and a jacket seemed appropriate. Slightly overdressed and credit in hand, he hit the floor.

He sat down at a blackjack table where only one gambler was seated and the dealer was moving slowly. Blackjack was not a game of instant big money winners, it was a slow grind up and down, and Donovan liked the game itself. It was no fun at a lightning pace. But without a friend sitting next to him to chat and cheer or bemoan hands with, he quickly found most of the joy sucked out of it anyway. He stayed long enough to get a complimentary drink (whiskey rocks), then a few hands further to be polite and walked away breaking dead even on cash, up a free drink.

He wandered the casino floor for a while, observing people. When his drink started to dwindle, he’d sit at another table to refresh. He lost a bit here, won a bit there, threw some money away on an Elvira-themed slot machine. Mostly, he nursed a buzz and realized casinos weren’t a hell of a lot of fun alone.

As the night crept on, he made his way to the entertainment wing, looking at expensive restaurant menus and appropriately uniformed employees trying to entice people inside. Nothing caught his eye until he saw some suspiciously placed prop barrels and a woman in what he could only describe as a Jessica Rabbit dress standing conspicuously nearby. There was his ticket.

He approached, and quietly asked, “Excuse me, miss, is this the Blind Tiger?”

She looked up at him, feigned confusion. “Oh, I wouldn’t know anything about a Blind Tiger.” She motioned for him to come closer and whispered in his ear. “Knock three times on the third barrel. Tell them Johnny sent you.”

“Thank you, I’ll look elsewhere.” He smiled.

 She put a finger to her lips, and returned to pretending she was subtle as he approached the barrels, timing his knock when no one was looking. A barrel creaked open on hinges and a burly man stood there. “Business?”

“Johnny sent me.”

The man nodded, the barrel shut, then it and the barrel below it swung open together and the man beckoned him inside into a cramped hallway. Faint jazz music drifted out from further in. The doorman quickly closed the barrels behind him. “Down the hall, first door on the right. Tables are all booked for the evening, but there should be plenty of seats at the bar. Further down the hall to make your subtle exit. This here’s one way.”

“Thank you kindly.” Donovan walked in smiling. It was cheesy, but in just the right ways. Down the hall, he turned into the door and found a room somewhere between a 30s jazz club and a modern speakeasy, all with a faint cerulean tinge. At the far end of the room, a live band played a soft ambience of freeform jazz. Soundtrack and setting combined created an intoxicating atmosphere. It felt like stepping into an old detective film. Around the walls, booths were filled mostly with couples, a few with circles of friends, and in the center of the room, an island bar circling a shelf of retro liquors. A bartender in a vest and bowtie caught Donovan’s eye and nodded toward the open seats. Two patrons sat on the far right of the bar, so he seated himself halfway between them and the far left.

The bartender approached with an appraising look. “Let me guess…you’re a whiskey man.”

Donovan blinked and nodded. “How’d you know?”

The bartender shrugged. “Truth? Everyone who walks into a bar like this wants whiskey or gin. It’s a 50-50 bet. What can I get you?”

“How’s your old fashioned?”

“It’s all in the name.” Donovan cocked an eyebrow and the bartender chuckled. “No muddled fruit, no garnish. Spirit, sugar, bitters, delicately balanced, introduced to an orange peel in passing, and served on hand-carved ice.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“Whiskey of choice?”

“Whichever you recommend. Something nice, I’ve got credit to spare.”

“Coming right up.”

Donovan watched as the bartender constructed the drink with practiced ease. “So, I get the feeling I’m the odd one for coming in here alone.”

The bartender shrugged. “Most people come in here for a fancy date or a celebration, true, but it’s not unheard of. Did you intend a solo venture?”

“No, but these things happen and here I am.”

“Might I say, the drinks and the music are just as fine here alone as with company,” the bartender nodded as he placed the cocktail in front of him. “Though you won’t be alone long.”

“Pardon?” Donovan looked at the bartender, who was looking past him. He turned to see a booth in the corner he’d missed when scanning the room where a stunning woman in a three-piece suit and tie sat alone, staring back in his direction. She smiled faintly when she caught his eye.

Donovan turned back, reaching for his card, but the bartender shook his head. “Your drinks appear to be covered, sir. I suggest you go thank your benefactor personally.”

Donovan shivered slightly, but smiled and tried to recompose himself. “I think I’ll do just that. Thank you…?”

“James.”

“Thank you, James.” Donovan stood, took his drink in hand, and turned to walk toward the mysterious woman. She smiled as he approached, but didn’t say anything. Donovan smiled back, finding it difficult to make eye contact. She radiated control, her gaze was piercing, and though he tried his damnedest not to let his eyes linger, he found her suit was impeccably tailored to her not insignificant curves. She was older than him, though by how much, he couldn’t say. Ten years? Twenty? The cliché would be fine wine. She wore her age with a natural grace and allure. Clearing his throat, he tried to speak clearly. “I understand you bought my drink. Thank you, Miss…?”

“Ms., but there’s no need for formalities. Call me Janine. You seemed in need of a pick me up. Would you care to join me?” She motioned to the booth to her left.

“I’d be honored.” He hesitantly sat. Janine was seated dead center in the booth, which seemed to cozily hold four. He wasn’t scandalously close, but just by sitting, he was close enough to smell her perfume, a subtle lavender and something else he couldn’t place. Rather than get lost in the scent, he offered “I’m Donovan.”

“Ah, you were the late cancellation.”

Donovan looked at her curiously. “How did you know about that?”

“No clever detective work, I’m afraid. I’m the owner of the Blind Tiger. On weekends, we’re open late, so I tend to book a room rather than drive back and forth. But a clerical error left me without one this weekend and the casino had a full house. That is, until you called.” Janine raised her glass to her lips, sipped what appeared to be neat whiskey, let it rest and gently blew the heat of it in his direction. The cocktail of scents prickled the hair on Donovan’s neck, and he had to fight not to show it when she breathily added, “You’ve done me a significant favor.”

Donovan took the opportunity to sip his own drink, cold whiskey doing little to combat the heat rising to his face. “Well, I’m…glad my misfortune wound up being so beneficial.”

“Mm.” Janine nodded, taking another slow sip of her drink. “So, tell me, how do you plan to spend this weekend? You don’t strike me as a heavy gambler or I imagine you’d be out on the floor.”

Donovan shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Eat well, drink well. I imagine I’ll spend a fair amount of time in here.”

“I can think of worse places. Though it does get lonely eating alone, no matter how well you eat, even here. Speaking from experience.”

“And how do you spend your weekends here, Janine?”

“Oh, I find ways to keep myself entertained.”

“Any suggestions?”

“One.” Donovan looked up and Janine locked eyes with him and faintly licked her lip. She patted the booth between them, and almost automatically, Donovan slid closer. He realized, half-cognizant, that she was taller than him. Janine put a finger to his chin and lifted his head, turning it gently and whispering in his ear. “I’m not big on games. I’m a woman of…peculiar tastes, and you’ve caught my eye. I’d like to invite you on a weekend you will never forget. No strings attached, no risk involved. And when we’re done, we’re done.”

Donovan’s eyes fluttered. Maybe it was the whiskey catching up to his lack of a proper meal, maybe it was the combination of her breath and perfume, maybe it was a thousand things about her driving him crazy, but in that moment, he would have surrendered anything she asked for. “Yes…god, yes. Please.”

Janine’s lips parted into wide smile. “Wonderful. Then I want you to listen carefully. You’re going to finish your drink. Then you’re going to take this room key – I imagine you know where to find my room – go back there, take this, and wait for me.” On the table in front of him was a card key and a small, nondescript pill in a plastic bag.

He looked at her, uncertain, but she nodded. “A harmless surprise, I promise. I’m a woman of my word.”

Donovan looked at her, looked at the pill, then nodded and pocketed it and the card.

“Good boy. I’ve got to go make some arrangements with James. I’ll see you…shortly.”

She brushed his cheek with her thumb and stood up, walking to the bar. Unable to look away, Donovan lost himself in the way her pants conformed to her ample rear, each deep wrinkle formed with each step she took. She never once looked back, but the way she leaned over a stool to speak to James seemed deliberate.

The booth still smelled like her. Donovan sat in her aromatic aftermath and drank his drink quicker than may have been wise, unable to think about anything else. He left the empty glass on the bar, muttering a thank you to James, who just smiled, and walked quickly out of the bar.

Janine’s room was directly next door to his own. He stood outside it and tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t one to hook up, ordinarily, but that woman was something else. He had no idea what he was in for, but in that moment, he didn’t care. He slipped the cardkey into the door, and entered. It was the exact same layout as his own, and equally sparse. In the closet, there were several suits similarly cut to the one she was wearing now. Below them was an open suitcase containing a neatly folded pile of delicate lace. Donovan flushed, stepping away from it. He had a feeling a more official reveal was imminent. He took the pill out of his jacket pocket and stared at it.

She promised there were no risks involved here…and it would be suicide to give a guest of the hotel something dangerous. Besides, what would she have to gain? He took one of the water bottles left by the hotel, opened it, and before he could start second guessing his choice, he swallowed the pill down.

For a few minutes, he didn’t feel anything. Then a faint tingling started to rise at the base of his neck. He started to get dizzy. He stepped back toward the bed, letting gravity pull him down there, rather than somewhere dangerous. He wondered what the hell he’d just taken. Too late to make a difference now. His vision started to blur, and before it could get much worse, everything went dark.

When he woke up, his head felt better. He was still on the bed, as far as he could tell, and he opened his eyes, sitting up gingerly and freezing in place. Where before his legs were dangling off the bed, now the edge of the bed seemed hundreds of feet away, a vast plane of cottony down comforter. The room had blown up to impossible size. No, no that didn’t make sense. He’d shrunk! That didn’t make sense either, but there was no better explanation he could think of.

He looked down at himself, naked, must have shrunk right out of his clothes, tiny feet barely making an indent in the crater his body had initially formed. He had no time to parse what was happening when he heard the door unlock for another card key and the door swung in to reveal Janine. The way she had already controlled the night, she was a force, but at this scale, she was a force of nature. He watched her scan the room and shivered when her gaze fell on him and the same smile she’d worn when he agreed spread over her face.

“Such a good boy, following my instructions.” She walked toward the bed, loosening her tie with one hand and unbuttoning her vest with the other. “My little toy boy.” There was a hunger in her voice, deeper than before as she kicked off her shoes and mounted the bed. Her left knee swung up past him, then her right, and she loomed over him. “Are you ready for our weekend?”

“What…what did you do?”

Janine tossed her tie over the back of a chair. “I told you, I’m a woman of peculiar tastes. And you are in for a weekend you will never forget.” She finished unbuttoning her vest, pressing her arms back and letting it slip free. Her ample breasts fought the shirt that contained them, and in the light, the faintest hint of purple lace shown through her white shirt.

“What…what can we do with me like this? Aren’t I…pretty limited?”

“Oh, there are any number of things we can do, my dear. I’ll show you just how creative we can get.” Janine began unbuttoning her shirt now, watching as each button held Donovan’s gaze, rapt at attention despite the terror. “And I wasn’t lying. You’re perfectly safe. You’re borderline indestructible like this.”

“I…I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Oh?” Janine cocked an eyebrow as she unclasped her last button, and with a casual showmanship drew her shirt apart like stage curtains, adding a shimmy that showcased just how much oomph her bra contained. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

Donovan opened his mouth to speak, but it turned into a scream as Janine slid her knees off of the bed and her torso swung down toward him. Her left breast slammed into him at high speed, and he knew he was dead. Except…he wasn’t. The weight was oppressive, it was hard to breathe, but he managed, taking ragged inhales of that lavender scent that had so intoxicated him earlier. Janine leaned further into the bed, really driving him into the mattress, sweeping left and right, dragging him across the surface. Then she sat up, and giggled uncharacteristically when she saw the little man dangling from her bra, arms entangled in the lace.

She plucked him free of his lacy prison and sat him in the palm of her hand. He took several deep breaths, examined himself and found he was no worse for wear. “Oh…”

“Oh is right. Just imagine the things we can do with you. Oh, the places you’ll go…”

The thought of her walking away from the table flashed through Donovan’s mind, but he tried to shake it away. “But…wouldn’t you prefer, you know…a proper-sized man?”

Janine smirked. “Oh, that’s the beauty of this little magic trick. I get that, too.” She looked past him into the bathroom door. “Come on out now, dear.”

Donovan turned and his jaw dropped. Out of the bathroom walked…himself. Full-size and fully dressed. “I…I don’t…”

“He’s a little…lacking, up here.” Janine gripped the full-size Donovan by the head and gave it a little shake. “That’s all down there with you. But he knows what he needs to know, and when you come back together in a few days, you’ll remember eeeevery little thing both of you get up to.” She slid her hand behind the larger Donovan's head and pulled him into a passionate kiss, then casually, she brought the hand Donovan was in down toward his much larger groin.

“Hey, wait!” Absentmindedly, she fondled the larger Donovan with a handful of himself, and Donovan all too easily noted that his larger copy was rapt at attention through the thin barrier his pants offered.

Janine relented, leaving the larger Donovan standing there and looking down at the miniature in her hand. “Rest assured, he’ll be fun – for both of us, I expect. But you are the main attraction, my little toy boy. Sound good?”

Donovan was torn. He was confused, he was frightened, and he was incredibly aroused, the latter of which was only amplifying the first two. Biting his lip, he nodded and she grinned.

“Good. I’d hate to go into this with you unwilling, but you’re like this for three full days, and one way or the other, I’m going to be entertained. Now then, let’s gets started.”

She licked her lips and tossed him on the bed. He heard two belts being unbuckled, both Janine and his larger self, and he tried to mentally prepare himself for the weekend ahead.