Lizzerd Number One


The Newsweek article had Susan scared. Americans by the millions are taking drugs. Most of them had a legal prescription, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was, well, their issue. The pee-out remnants of powerful drugs were building up in the nation's water supply.

No one was quite sure just how tainted the waters were. They did know that waste treatment plants weren't designed to filter out all the Vicodin, the Valium or the Viagra.

"Oh dear," Susan murmured.

"Yes?" Jim asked, putting down his newspaper.

"The formula. I've been concentrating on controlling the formula. I haven't been…well, there are some lasting effects I haven't been properly evaluating. I should have thought of them, but I never…" Her voice trailed off.

"What do you mean by lasting effects?" he said. "You know that the shrinking effect is permanent, but the libido effect isn't. It's not contagious so… What else is there, Susan? Sue?"

She was scribbling notes rapidly on a pad of paper. She looked up the second time he called her name. "Huh? What?"

"I said, I'll drive you to the lab whenever you're ready," Jim said, turning back to the game write-up.

"No, pet store," she corrected, already adding to her list.

------

The lab mice she'd used to test the formula had built up quite a colony in her lab. The terrarium was crawling with micro-mice. After seeing the typical mouse response to shrinking, which included a sex drive that would make a rabbit jealous, she'd been curious about the next generation.

To her relief, shrunken mice had shrunken mice babies. The nightmare of a fetal-based explosion had kept her up a few nights until Test Subject Mouse #34 had her little litter.

She'd established that shrunken mice stayed shrunken up to, so far, the fourth generation. And that the antidote to the condition also worked on fourth generation mice. She concluded that the formula had a permanent effect

She hadn't tested for predation. Jim walked with her through the mall as she smiled at her new purchase in the little travel cage.

"Why an iguana?" He asked.

"They eat mice. And it's small enough to live in the terrarium, at least for now. So if it eats the…" She glanced back and forth to see if anyone could overhear. "If it eats the Littles, we'll see if it becomes a Little, too."

"And if he doesn't?"

"We'll have to find something else. Partially to test the formula's persistence, partially because I have a few hundred micromice and I'm starting to have nightmares of them escaping."

Lizard Number One wasn't in the tank for six seconds before he started eating up the heirs to the formula.

Six days later, he was still eating, and still as big as he was when he left the pet store.

Susan relaxed and concluded that the effects were permanent, but the formula was filtered out by the body. She started designing experiments to test the various elimination systems.

She never found any and concluded that the body somehow broke it down and made it harmless.

Susan was wrong.

The formula had the effect of altering a body's chemistry in many unique ways. Shrinking was only the most obvious. And that effect wore off. The formula's half-life in the average human body was 14 days. After two weeks, most subjects should have started recovering their original height.

The reason they didn't was one of the biochemistry changes. Altered marrow in the shrunken skeleton began to produce an organic equivalent to the original formula, acting as a sort of maintenance dosage conveyed through the blood stream. The greater the initial dosage was, the more that was produced to match it.

The formula was also conveyed through the placenta, so a fetus was maintained at the same dosage as the host.

It was no surprise that Susan missed it, really. The effect occurred in all but about one person in five million, and in all but one in sixty million mice.

The marrow produced also only shrank mammals.

The upshot was that the accumulating generations of mice were not diluting the original doses of Susan's formula. Rather, they were industriously producing a relatively amazing amount of it.

LNO was happily building up a huge reserve of formula in his own body, undetected and unsuspected by his owner. Each mouse he ate had a cumulative affect on what his body thought was the required dose.

After Susan became satisfied, both with LNO's efforts to save the world from a micromice invasion, and with his apparent lack of ill effects from doing so, she didn't really need him any more.

He was transferred to a lab study on sleep deprivation, then one on the carcinogenic effects of boy band music, then finally someone took him home with them.

-------

George had long had his eyes on the iguana. His next door neighbors were all nuts over the online soap opera, Dark Woods. He knew just enough about the story line of the show to think that the lizard could help him.

When the last CD was removed from the player and ceremoniously smashed, George had permission to take Lizard Number One home with him.

He promised the director that the retired test subject would have a clean cage, good food and plenty of rest. No one made him promise not to take the critter's blood for a magic ceremony. But he'd have lied about that anyway.

Sela opened the door at the knock and found George outside. Her welcoming smile turned to a suspicious glare. "What do you want, George?"

He held up a hypodermic needle with a dark fluid inside it. "Dragon's Blood Calling, anyone?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Dragon's Blood? From where?"

He slipped into the apartment before answering. "I have a new pet. An iguana. He's been in the labs for twenty years, exposed to all sorts of strange chemicals, radiations, techniques."

George was into the living room by now, where Dana was reading a book. "There's no telling what LNO's blood might do."

"Really?" Dana asked.

"Ew," Sela replied.

"Who's LNO?" Dana asked.

"That's just what's written on his tag. Could be anything," he said. He ended up taking them to his apartment where they could see the lizard. He looked harmless enough.

"Hey, I'll try anything once," Dana said and turned to her roommate. "I thought you'd be up for a Dark Woods ceremony."

"Blood?" Sela pointed out.

"Strange, certainly altered, possibly enhanced blood," George replied. "He might even turn into a dragon under the right circumstances. Like that gnome in DW."

"DW is a magical world," Sela said. "This i'n't."

"Never hurts to try," he insisted, waving the hypo.

In the end, they agreed to a brief ceremony, just to see how it felt. They cleared his coffee table and knelt around it. George squirted the blood carefully into a small bowl, then dipped his fingertips into it.

He daubed a bit on Sela's head. The brunette closed her eyes and wished. "I want the Dark Wood Dragon Power to take me to Paris. Soon. I mean, this month."

George nodded and turned to Dana. He moved her red bangs back from her forehead with his free hand and touched the blood to her skin.

She started to wish. "I want the Dark Wood Dragon Power to help me get… Hey, Sela, should I ask for a raise or for a promotion?"

There was no answer so she opened her eyes. Sela was gone. "Holy crap!" she shouted. "It worked!"

"It did?" George looked back and forth but couldn’t see Sela. There was no place she could have gotten to without his knowing. He turned back to Dana. She was also gone.

Slowly and carefully, he wiped the dragon's blood off of his fingers.

Some muffled words caught his attention. He stood and looked over the table. On the ground where Sela had knelt, there was a pile of clothing that wriggled. As he watched, Sela stood up. The woman was a foot tall.

She was also wrestling with herself. Both hands were clamped to her crotch. Her head was tilted back, eyes shut and she moaned.

"Oh," something like Dana's voice said from the other side. He walked around the table and stood at the far corner. Tiny women writhed on his floor, overcome with apparently irresistible lust. As he watched the naked forms squirm out of the piles of clothes, he felt a lot of sympathy for them.

"Please, please," Sela was muttering. He reached down carefully. When he touched the lusting beauty with his hands, she spun and started placing passionate kisses on his skin, everywhere she could reach. He found it thrilling.

He moved one hand to pick up her partner. Dana reacted the same way, licking and placing little love bites all over his wrist. He held the two up for a moment, watching them thrash about.

Sela caught his thumb between her thighs and started trying to hump against it. Dana grabbed a finger and forced it to her pussy.

A wicked smile grew on his face and he brought the two women together. They grabbed each other and pulled themselves out of his hands. The attraction was like an industrial magnet. He barely managed to keep them together long enough to place them safely on the table.

"Yeah, yeah, oh yeah," Sela was saying as she licked and sucked at Dana's face and neck. For her own part, the redhead just whined and grabbed, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her lover.

"Maaaaaaaaaaaan," George muttered. But for all they were going at it, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere. He grabbed Dana around the waist and pulled. Lifting her straight up, he lifted Sela as well. Finally he had to grab both of them around the waist and pull.

They screamed and kicked at him when they were parted. He spun them around and placed them gently back on the table. Sela found herself with a face full of red pussy hair. She squealed in glee and drove her face to the glistening lips.

Dana parted the legs with her hands, striving by might and main to get her face to the lips that were just out of her reach. George took pity on her and pushed on her ass. She moved along Sela's body until she reached her target. Sela's face never lifted from Dana's pussy.

Their breathing sped and became shallow. George couldn't remember ever seeing such desperate passion, even on a porno. The sounds of sloppy kisses were driving him mad with desire. He lay on the floor, pushed his pants down to his knees and reached onto the table.

Sela's leg was all he could reach. The sweaty bodies squeaked as he dragged them to the edge and picked them up. Neither woman complained.

He split them up again, bringing them down to either side of his hard-on. They giggled gleefully and started to rub it. With both of them working away at him he only lasted a moment. He screamed and thrashed on the carpet. Hot come sprayed up and out. They licked him clean, then each other and finally screamed their own success.

George lay limp and dazed as the two curled up on his belly and went to sleep. After a few minutes he moved them to a sofa cushion and rose shakily to his feet.

LNO regarded him with regal indifference. "You are magic," George whispered.

-------
Hours later, he watched the two women start to stir. Dana raised her head up off the towel first, looking around blearily. She looked confused. "Where am I?" she asked.

George leaned over the arm of the chair he was sitting on. "My dad's place," he said. She looked up at the face looming over her head and screamed a high, piercing shriek.

She scrambled away from the giant, arms and legs churning. When she hit the end of her chain it brought her up short. She screamed again, even higher.

"What's going on?" she whined. He reached down and tugged on the chain. It was attached to a band around her ankle, the other end locked around the leg of his chair. She fought but it didn't matter. He slowly brought her over to his reach and lifted her up.

He settled her on his lap, hands at her back and lap. "It's magic, Dana. The blood of the Dragon shrank you. You're about ten inches tall right now. It's a sign You belong to me, now."

'No," she muttered. "No, no, no."

"My dad's in assisted living. This place is outside of town. I'm going to keep you here. Until you're housebroken."

"No!" she shouted.

"Now, now," George said. "You can't refuse. Like I said, you belong to me." He moved his hand out of her lap and shoved the other one to the side. She found herself bent over his leg. "Don't resist." He spanked her. The hand covered an amazing amount of her ass cheeks and half of her thighs. She gasped.

Before she could make any noise, he spanked her once more.

"OW!" she shouted.

"You can go ahead," he said. "This place is on fifty acres. No one's near enough to hear you." He shoved her back onto his other leg. "I'm going to keep you guys out here. I have to stay in my apartment for a while. Can't have the cops seeing me move out to the country at the same time you guys disappear."

"But you-" she started to protest. At the sound of chain links tinkling he lifted a finger to silence her. She sat quietly as they both listened to Sela mutter.

When the other girl asked, "Where am I?" George leaned over the chair and repeated, "My dad's place."

Then the screaming started again.

------

Deputy Sheriff Pamela Stokes watched the sport little car pass her position. It wasn't speeding but its position on the road was a little erratic. She put the cruiser in gear and started to follow.

"Dispatch, this is Stokes," she told the radio.

"Yeah, Pam?" the dispatcher returned.

"Tabitha, you're supposed to use proper comms," Pamela said wearily.

"Pammy, ain't no one on the roads, on the circuit or in the station except you and me tonight. We could be having radio sex and no one would be bothered."

"Too bad I don't swing that way," Pamela said.

"Too, too, too bad," a third voice said. The Sheriff didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to.

Tabitha asked formally for a report from Car #3. Pamela equally formally reported that she was tailing a possible DUI, gave her location and signed off.

After following the car for a mile, she determined that enough violations were on the film to establish probable cause. She hit the lights. The driver swerved to the left, then overcorrected and ran into the rough patch beside the road.

Pamela climbed out and walked carefully up to the driver's window. She was quite a bit taller than the car, which made bending down to the open window uncomfortable. Eh, every little pain put her in a better mood to deal with evildoers.

"Sir, are you alright?" The figure inside didn't seem to match the price of the car. He seemed a little ratty. Then again, it might be the Governor after a weekend of fishing with the boys. She asked once more after his health. He mumbled something inarticulate.

A flick of the flashlight found a picnic basket on the floor in front of the passenger seat. If there wasn't an open container in that thing, she'd be very surprised.

"Sir? Can you tell me your name? And can I get your license, please?"

He fumbled out a wallet, dropped his license on the floor, picked it up and handed it to her. She sniffed for alcohol but couldn't smell anything. She stood back up again and looked at the license.

Everything seemed to be in order, she noted. Until she felt the fluid. The back of the card was smeared with a decent amount of blood. Fresh blood.

"Sir! Are you hur?" He groaned and his head rolled listlessly to the side. She reached into the window to feel his pulse. She noted his hand clamping onto hers, then she was falling.

Rough cloth batted her around for a moment as she twisted in mid-air. The hand at her wrist became a cast holding her entire arm, then she was lost.

Later, much later, Pamela could sort of string together some impressions from the evening. She remembered an incredible rush of warmth, then she was horny like she'd never been before. It was as if all the hormones of the local high school had been flushed into her veins.

She needed a man. Or maybe a woman. Or possibly any higher order of primate. All she knew at the time was that her pussy was bare and empty. Before she could cover or fill it with anything, though, something bound her arms to her torso.

Her hands rested at her hips, unable to move more than an inch or two. It was quite unfair, that was not an erogenous zone.

She moaned in frustration and kicked out. Something grabbed her knees and bound them tightly together.

Then she was lowered into a shed or something. The walls were wicker, but made out of saplings. She twisted around a bit, trying to rub her sex against the floor. Or the wall.

Somewhere in there she bumped up against someone. They moaned. She moaned. They moved together. She licked, finding sweet sweat and wonderful softness.

She kind of remembered being lifted about then, screaming in annoyance. There was a smell of gasoline that she found very erotic. And a road flare the size of a cannon. That also turned her on.

Then there was a fire. It looked like a yacht was burning. There were smaller explosions as they left the yacht behind. Every one made her hornier.

There was more travel in the wicker shed. Someone wrapped her in a blanket and giggled. Something… something about not getting ahead without permission. She found that wonderfully exciting.

Finally, she was rolled out of the blanket onto a warm, soft surface. Her bindings were removed and she was thrust into the arms of another person. A woman, she realized. And they were both naked.

It only seemed natural, then, to lick her new friend all over her body. She wasn’t surprised or bothered when this stranger returned the favor. Some other people assisted from time to time. Her legs were moved, her thighs spread, wonderful lubrication was applied.

Then someone rubbed her in the most perfect way. It was like a giant tongue was stroking her and her partner's asses, pussies and bellies. She might have been upside down. She didn't care.

When she came, it was as if the entire world was turning inside out. She screeched and the stranger tried to suck her tongue out of her head. But they screamed a moment later, then relaxed.

Pamela drifted quickly into a deep, deep sleep.

-----

Pamela woke up slowly. She was in a dark place. There as a loud machine noise she couldn't identify. She realized that she was naked.

"What the hell…?"

"Are you awake?" a voice asked. Female, her mind instantly classified it. Also fairly young. Very nervous.

"Sort of…" She felt around. There was a rough carpeting under her. She moved in the direction of the voice on hands and knees. "Where are we?"

"I think…we're in the back of a truck."

"Yeah…that's an engine noise," Pamela agreed. "A big engine." She shook her head. "Was there a yacht, somewhere in the last few minutes?"

"I dunno. But there was sex."

"Oh, god." Pamela sat back on her butt. "Yeah. Great sex. But not exactly…uh."

"Consensual," the other woman said.

"No."

"I'm Kitty Dale."

"Stokes. Deputy Pamela Stokes." She started moving again, crawling closer to Kitty.

"Pleased to meet you," Kitty said. "Was there someone…else?"

"I think.. I remember bouncing around in impossible positions." They got close together. Pamela found a leg, then an arm, then they held hands. "Maybe there was one of those inflatable gorilla things? Or… A whale?"

The truck came to a stop, spilling them across the floor. The engine noise died soon after. They rose to their knees then found their hands again.

"Are they coming to get us?" Kitty asked. They stood slowly.

"Probably," Pamela said. She scanned the darkness for the first sign of an opening door. That's when the roof climbed up into the sky. Light blinded the two. Pamela moved and shoved Kitty behind her defensively.

They could barely make out some sort of shadowed form looming overhead.

"Ah," the sky said with a voice of thunder. "The cop is defending her little friend. Isn't that cute?"

"What the hell? Who are you?"

"I'm George. I'm your new owner," the voice said. "So. You wanna defend someone? Stop me if you can."

The shadow blinked and something slammed Pamela in the side. She folded and rolled across the floor. Kitty screamed.

Pamela staggered to her feet. Still blinking against the light, she moved towards Kitty's voice. It moved. It seemed to move up. Then over her head and back down again.

The bastard was playing with her somehow. Then Kitty stopped moving. She turned towards the voice when something bound her around the waist.

It felt like a giant picked her up and shook her. Then she finally was able to see. A giant leered at her. It really was a giant.

-----

He set them down on a table. Kitty cowered at her shoulder as they looked around. A huge room surrounded them, one built on the scale of the man who sat beside the table. They were on a dining table in a kitchen that opened onto a living room. Old and beaten furniture was shoved to one side of the living space. The other side had a fireplace, a space heater and cages.

Thirty or so cages were stacked in three rows. Naked women sat in several of them. They all sat still, staring over at the giant. Some of the faces looked familiar to Pamela. They looked tiny against the giant background. Like little dolls. Kitty started to whimper.

"So, Pamela, still feeling protective?"

"What do you want?" she asked. Her hands curled into fists. He noticed and laughed.

"I want you to understand." He raised his hands in a strange gesture. It almost looked like a benediction. "You have been chosen. You have been blessed by the Dragon. The touch of the Dragon's divine fluid gave you your new place, station and use in life."

"Use?"

"The chosen girls don't always recall," he said. "You shrank." Pamela shook her head, rejecting the giant's claim. Behind her, Kitty's whimpering became crying. "And when you did, it was revealed to you, and to me, what you were to do with your new life."

He leaned down close to where they stood. "You had a divine case of the fuckbunnies. Your lusts were augmented. They became irresistible. And when you slaked those lusts, you were purified."

"You're bonkers," Pamela said.

"Mad, am I?" he asked. He began laughing. "They said that of many, many men. But I have proof." He clapped his hands together, just over their heads. Pamela ducked. The hands dove and scooped them up. "Other prophets had visions," he said as they kicked and struggled. "I have… living Barbies."

She tried to break free, or to at least fend him off but he touched where he wanted to, licking and sucking at both women.

When he was finished, he thrust them each in a cage. The lock slamming shut reminded Pamela of the jail cells in back of the Deputy's Office. She looked around her little area.

A dispenser held what looked like dog food. A bottle through the side dripped water. There was a sheet of cardboard over the floor, keeping her from having to walk on the wires. And nothing else.

She was at one end of the middle row, cage number twenty. The cages below and beside her were empty. She'd glimpsed a woman in the cage above her as the crazy put her in place.

George was going down the line right now, chatting with his other charges. None of it made sense to her. Something about a point system and rewards. A girl nearby got a pillow, one farther away got a little mirror to hang in her cage.

Someone halfway down was given a tiny towel to serve as a blanket. Pamela wiped at the spit covering her belly and legs and wished she had one of those.

Everyone got food. Of a sort. George topped off all the girls' dogfood and checked their water bottles.

He walked back to the dining table and drew something out of his pockets. When he tossed them to the table she realized they were dice. "Eight!" he shouted cheerfully.

He walked along the cages, counting off women, not cage numbers. Everyone craned to see who was lucky eight.

It was Kitty. She screamed.

"Oh, dear," he said. "Can't have a first nighter. She won't know what to expect." He glanced from girl to girl on either side of his reprieved victim. "Round up or round down?" he asked.

"Roll again," someone shouted. He nodded and went back to the dice.

"Fifteen!" he said. Then she knew he was crazy. How could you get fifteen off of two dice? Crazy or cheating.

A girl two cages over from Pamela was the lucky girl this time. She smiled as the man opened her cage.

"Thank you for choosing me, George!" she said. "I've been hoping you would!" Pamela wondered if it was an act or if the girl sincerely felt like a puppy when the giant gave her attention.

She wriggled and kicked in his grasp, but happily, not as if she was trying to escape. He moved a big chair into the middle of the empty space and sat down in it.

Pamela wasn't quite surprised when he pushed his pants down to his knees. She was a little surprised to find that she couldn't look away.

The man's erection seemed to be nearly as long as number Fifteen's leg. He lowered her to his lap and let her alone. She slid between his legs and rubbed at his balls. As they got tight she started reaching up to rub the underside of his cock.

The tighter the sac became, the more attention she paid to the cock. Soon she was standing on tip-toe, hugging it and placing wet, sloppy kisses everywhere she could reach.

He shifted a bit in the chair, trying to lower the angle. Twenty lifted her arms and grabbed the tip. A few strokes along the top, and licking at the bottom, and he came. Several spurts few at or over his little attendant. She kept kissing and squeezing throughout.

Finally the dick started to flag and lower towards her. George picked her up, kissed her belly and held her for a while.

When he could stand, he dressed and took the girl over to her cage.

A sack on one of the chairs held a small box of chicken nuggets. Evidently Fifteen was rewarded for her efforts with actual food. George slipped two pieces into her cage then tilted his head.

She spoke some numbers quietly. George gave each cage she identified half of one of the remaining nuggets.

Neither Pamela or Kitty got chicken.

He bustled about the place for a while, finally setting the space heater on, then left, turning the lights out as he went.

The girls all heaved a sigh of relief when the headlights crossed the curtained window.

"Can anyone tell me what's going on?" Pamela asked.

"George shrank us, kidnapped us, and uses us as sex toys," the woman above her said. "All caught up, now?"

Pamela stepped to the corner where the woman was looking around the corner of her cardboard floor. She could just make out the figure in the gloom. "Hey."

"Hello. I'm Pamela. You're…?"

"Lucy. Not that it matters much. Hungry?" Pam nodded and Lucy handed down a hunk of her chicken piece.

"Thanks. Who's the Dragon he keeps talking about?"

"Rumor has it that he has a magic creature from Dark Woods. It gives him the power he has."

"Dark Wood? That's just a-" She stopped talking and stared at her food. A fistful of chicken ripped from half of a bite-sized serving.

"Yeah," Lucy said. "Just a story."

------

The scene shows a young woman in a rocking chair. She's reading a book. It's a large format, something like a coffee table book. She turns the pages slowly. Beside the chair is a bed. It's not ornate, there's no canopy. A simple metal bed, carefully made up. The walls are unadorned blue.

The view seemed to be from about eight or nine feet off the floor, back far enough to see the entire room.

A voice off camera clears a throat. "Ahem." The girl stands and places the book gently down on the chair. She's wearing a tasteful little black dress, conservative shoes and a small pearl necklace.

"Shoes," the voice says. The girl leaned on the end of the bed and carefully removed them. She knelt to place them at the foot of the bed.

"Dress." She showed no expression as she reached back and unzipped herself. Then slowly and carefully removed the dress. She folded it over the back of the rocking chair.

Beneath it she was wearing a black mesh camisole and a thong. Lace hearts didn't quite hide her nipples from view. The mesh blurred her outline but still left it clear that she had a wonderful figure.

"Panties." She hooked thumbs under the hips and slid the thong down her legs. A woman's hand came from off camera to collect them. There was a disconcerting moment when the viewer realized that the hand was half as big as the girl. Her thong landed in the middle of the palm, looking like doll's clothing.

Sexy doll clothing.

The hand reached one finger to caress the girl's side. She remained expressionless but leaned into the touch.

Then the hand withdrew, but not before the thumb started to stroke the panties.

The young woman turned and knelt on the bed. The angle of the camera put her ass in wonderful profile, but there was nothing more than a tantalizing glimpse between the cheeks as she climbed into place.

The hand came down from above like a boom mike. A fingernail stroked up her thighs and across her butt cheeks. It followed her spine, moving the cami up to her shoulder blades. Then it pressed down on the back of her head. The girl's head was pressed into the mattress. Her butt profile improved, but still there was nothing showing that couldn't be seen on the beach.

"What can I do to you?" the voice asked.

"Anything," came the muffled reply. Another hand lowered into view, forefinger extended. The fingertip stroked her ass.

"Spread you legs." The girl on the bed complied. "Spread your ass." She used her hands to pull at her cheeks. The finger stroked deeply and slowly. Someone moaned but it was hard to tell which participant.

"You know, there are a lot of things one could do to such a defenseless toy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Lots of interesting things."

The scene was interrupted with a montage. There were shots of the girl in a variety of costumes. Flashes of things in her hand or being pressed against her by the giant hand.

One scene, she was being dressed in spandex by the hand, then an instant later she was having a rubber catsuit peeled off. A dildo in a pair of pliers poked at her cheek. Her whole body was immobilized, covered in a tight elastic wrap, only her eyes and nipples showing.

She was tickled, wrestled, dangled, stripped, packaged and bound.

Then they were back at the original scene.

"Yes, ma'am." The finger tip roamed over more and more acreage. The cheeks started to glisten. Then it lifted up and out of sight.

"I can make you wear anything, too." It came back holding a shirt hangar. Hanging off of the lower wire was a wide array of doll clothes. They ranged from office clothes to thin straps.

"Now, if anyone out there was interested in seeing you in this stuff, they only have to write us and tell us. You'd just love to wear some of this, wouldn't you?"

"Please," she whimpered. The clothes went away. The scene faded to black. Then contact information showed, along with acceptable payment methods.

"Oh, yeah," George muttered. "I gotta get some of that." He clicked on the 'Tell Us' icon.

--------

Pamela's head was swimming. George struck her as about as smart as a drunken llama, but he was amassing quite the harem.

Women in the cages reported meeting either a helpful man or one needing help. Kitty had been at a gas station, dreading pumping in the rain when a stranger offered to pump it for her. She didn't remember much after shaking his hand. A few of the shrunken women had been prostitutes approached on the street or in bars.

Lucy hadn't even seen anyone. She noticed something sticky on her car door handle when she got back to it, then…

"What about the sex?" Pam asked.

"No one has any idea," Lucy said with disgust. "All we remember is that we had to. Needed to. Sometimes he paints the night's girl with the… The dragonblood. No one gets any smaller, but they get wild." She quieted. After a moment, Pam heard soft sobbing.

She climbed up the side of her cage and reached up. She found Lucy's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"I want to say we're going to get out of here," Pam said. "But…"

"But you're shrunk, naked and locked in a dog cage, too," Lucy said.

"Yeah. Not much credibility without the uniform," she replied.

"Oh, yes. If you had your cop clothes on, there in that tiny cage, I'd certainly believe you." They laughed. Tiny little laughs in the dark.

--------

Madeline read through the emails on her laptop. At the end of her desk, Cheryl was writing scripts. She sat on a stack of printouts Madeline had culled from the feedback.

"How about…" the little one said, "I tie the giant hand to the bed and have my way with it?"

"No."

"No, no, I can make it work!"

"Nope."

"Come on! Everything we have is 'little girl gets dominated!' We should move into new areas."

"New areas that would include Tiny dominates the Biggie? No one wants to see that." She closed yet another 'request' that was little more than 'that was neat, do it again.'

Cheryl slammed her pencil lead down on her paper and stormed over to the side of the keyboard. "I wanna see that!" she shouted. Madeline didn't look up.

"But our demographic wants to see you dominated. That's what they're paying for. To see you totally owned by your owner." Cheryl sputtered in protest. Madeline lifted her up and took her into a cuddle. "Look, the cop shows always say the bottom's in charge. But you never explain that to paying customers.

"If we always have you being exploited, the guys that wanna see that will be happy to buy another and another and another… Once you take charge, they'll worry."

"Worry?" Cheryl asked, trying to wriggle free. Her futile efforts just thrilled her boss even more.

"If the tiny girl takes charge over the giant, most of our customers will start to question their ranking in the food chain."

"Great," Cheryl muttered. "Susan's never worn a strap-on, but she's still screwing me."

"Aw," Madeline said. She lifted her living dolly up to make eye contact, gently stroking with a finger. "Tell you what. Every time we make a thousand sales, you can tie me to my bed."

"Really?" She stopped kicking and stared. "Can I film it?"

"NO! Maddy's face doesn't go on the 'net. Not now, not never."

"Famous last words, boss lady," Cheryl threatened.

"Big words from the little lass," Madeline replied.

"Yeah, yeah. A thousand? Is that films alone or…?"

Madeline spun her around to face the screen. "Well, look at this guy. Dragonblood239 says-"

"There are 240 guys that use 'Dragonblood as a login? DB and DB1 and DB2…" Cheryl muttered. "What kind of a loser tries 239 times to get-"

"He says," Madeline said louder, "that he really likes our intro film. But what he wants is to find out if the costumes that the giant hand handles are available."

"They are!" Cheryl said. "That's what Amy's back room was for! You'd count that as a sale?"

Slowly and carefully, Madeline typed a reply one handed. She gave the store's address and finished, 'Ask for Cheryl.'

"There. Anything he buys because of the films, each item counts as a sale towards your thousand."

"Cool!" She kicked. This time Madeline lowered her to the desk and watched as she skipped back to her pad. "I'm going to write some product placement porn!" She stopped and turned around. "Thanks, Maddy."

"Business plan," she replied. "Just keeping my employee motivated and productive."

"Well, thanks anyway," Cheryl repeated and turned back to her pad. "Hey! Where the hell are my pants!"

------

George was positively ebullient when he showed up again. He moved a table to the center of the room and set a laptop upon it. While it booted up he filled the cages' food and water but hardly talked to any of the girls.

Finally he sat at the table. He smiled across at the cages and asked: "Who wants to earn clothes?"

He didn't wait for an answer but rolled the dice. The girl selected, Tandy, wasn't as excited as she might have been. Everyone was worried about what the laptop might mean. It was new and around here, new didn't mean improved. Not for the girls, anyway.

George pulled a Ziploc out of his pocket and placed it on the table next to Tandy. Pamela couldn't quite see what was in it. Tandy looked from the bag to George, then hesitantly opened it.

When he didn't stop her, she pulled out the contents and started to put them on. It was a thong bikini. Pamela was amazed that he'd found one in their size. Or was he able to shrink objects, too?

When Tandy was dressed, or at least wearing the swimsuit, he turned her to face the computer screen. None of the caged girls could see the screen, but they could see Tandy's expression as he played a movie.

She started off curious, then uncomfortable, and finally covered her eye in horror. George paused whatever was showing long enough to pin his captive's arms to her side so she'd have to watch.

"And we're going to do that," he said, pulling a pencil out of his pocket. A Barbie-scale dildo was taped to the eraser end. It was like a pornographic swizzle stick to George, or a seven foot dildo to Tandy.

Tandy kicked and struggled in his grip. It didn't matter. He soon had her pinned on the table and shifted his grip on the pencil.

"Open wide, little one," he said with a grin. "And don't forget to smile!"

-----

Andrea took a long first sip of her coffee while Lindsey sat down and arranged the muffin plates.

"Nice," Andrea said. "And my change?"

"Oh. Uh, I put it all in the tip jar." She flinched from Andrea's expression. "It's for a good cause."

"How are tips a cause?"

"The owner of this place is missing. Mysterious circumstances." She leaned closer and started to whisper. "They say she raped the scullery guy right before she disappeared."

"And my change is for his therapy?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic, Andrea. And no, the employees are trying to keep this place running. But half the tips they get go towards a PI to find Jude."

"PI to find…" Andrea started to sneer. Then she paused. She'd disappeared before. Briefly, but certainly under mysterious circumstances. If she'd known that someone hired a professional to find her, she might have felt a little better. "Okay," she finally said with a shrug.

"Okay?" Lindsey asked.

"Okay." They paid attention to their brunch for a while.

"Hey, Andrea? Where do I know that guy from?" Lindsey tossed her head towards the street across from their window table. Andrea glanced. There was a seedy looking skinny guy. He did look a little familiar…he also seemed to be looking rather hungrily at the coffee shop.

"I don't know about today," Andrea said. "But a guy making eyes at a lesbian coffee shop crowd? Tomorrow you're going to know him from the trauma ward."

"No, really. I've seen him somewhere." She subtly aimed her camera phone at the window and tried to capture his image. "Maybe someone else knows."

"Do we know someone that unlucky?" They giggled for a moment. When Andrea looked up again, the creep was walking into an alley with a woman. Something about the girl shouted 'hooker' to Andrea.

Of course, going into an alley with the creep was probably the biggest sign. "Economy must be worse that I thought," she said.

"Huh?" Lindsey said, looking up and around the coffee shop.

"Well, the creep has a - " The man under discussion suddenly came out of the alley, stuffing something into his knapsack. Andrea would swear on her life that she saw a face. A strangely contorted face. And it was inside the knapsack.

"Holy Shit!" Andrea said. She got up and barreled through the shop. When she got onto the sidewalk, she glanced but couldn't locate the man. She ran to the alley, Lindsey on her heels.

A few yards inside they found clothing behind a dumpster. The clothes looked familiar to both women. They'd seen a few abandoned piles left behind by shrunken women.

--------
Kate lost it. Frankly, Pamela was surprised no one had buckled under the pressure before today.

She was spread eagle across a vinyl mat. Her leopard-print bikini was dislodged by George's cock rubbing back and forth across her body.

He was holding her arms and legs down with his hands, but he was watching the screen. When the head got close enough, she took her chance. She raised her head and bit him right next to the pee-hole.

Not biting like trying to give a hickey, she did her best to tear out a strip of flesh. George screamed and folded. Kate was up and rolling over the table in a second. She staggered to her feet after the landing and took off running.

Pamela cheered. Some of the other girls did, most were still hesitant to take sides. George got to his feet and limped after the girl.

"Nowhere to run, bitch!" he shouted. "The door knobs are way over your head." He closed doors behind him as he tracked her. "Can't reach the windows." She ran across the room, frantic for a hiding place or escape.

"She's here!" two of the girls called. Doors slammed in the distance. He stepped into the room, shutting the hallway door behind him. He had a broom.

Kate tried to slip around him but he bashed her into the corner. After two or three tries, he was close enough to pick her up. She screamed and fought but couldn't get free.

He slapped her onto the table and started to beat her. Not spanking, he whaled on her ass, legs, back and head. When she stopped crying, Pamela had to do something.

"STOP IT!" she shouted.

"Hey, no," Lucy whispered.

"Shut up," George said.

"You're going to kill her."

"Yep."

"That's wrong, George. It's the irreversible step!"

He paused and looked over at the little cop's cage. "What do you mean?"

"Kidnapping, assault, rape… People can get over those. I mean, if we all get rescued, tomorrow, at least we can get therapy. Right guys?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, of course," the others chorused.

"But murder? You don't want to cross that line, George. It'll change you. You'll get cocky. Trust me, it's how we catch half the murderers we bring in, for thinking they're above us all." She leaned against the bars, reaching imploringly towards him. "She's learned her lesson. We've learned the lesson. Resistance is futile. There's no escape.

"Let her go, George." He looked from Pam to Kate and back. She swallowed. "If you're still mad, beat on me for a while." He glared at her.

"Close," he said. "Very close, Pam. You almost talked me out of it. But if I did that, you'd think you could manipulate me."

"George, I…"

"But there's something else we can do." He rolled Kate over onto her back. She flopped lifelessly but there was an audible moan. Pam stared at the chest, trying to gage her breathing. She lost track of George until he was suddenly in front of her cage.

She couldn’t help backing across the cage as he opened it and reached in.

He held her over Kate's limp form for a second and pulled out a plastic envelope. He opened it with his teeth and spilled some of the dragonblood inside it across Kate's chest.

"George, you can't do this," Pam said. He squirted the rest of it onto Pamela's tits.

"I'm not going to do anything," he said. Fingers spread her legs as he lowered her to straddle Kate's belly. "You're going to do it all by yourself."

Heat rose in Pamela's groin where it touched the other woman. She felt herself staring at the breasts before her, barely noticing that her hands were reaching up to touch them.

"I'm sorry," were her last words before the blood took her.

-----

"No way," Susan said. "At least, it wasn't my formula. That takes too long."

"What if it was a really strong dose?" Lindsey asked. She handed out sodas as the girls sat in Susan's room.

"Nope. Dosage just determines your final size. The rate of shrinking is a biological function. Upping the concentration wouldn't change that. Anything past a maximum shrinking dosage wouldn't make you shrink any faster."

"Are you sure you saw a shrunken woman?" Stephanie asked Andrea. The other woman looked angry for a second, then relaxed. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Andrea. Just asking if you're sure."

"Yes. A tiny naked woman struggling in the creep's hands."

"I wonder who?" Susan asked.

"Did you recognize the photo?" Lindsey asked.

"Photo?"

"The photo that I…" She paused and dug through her purse for her phone. "That I was GOING to send everyone to see if they knew the creep." She passed the phone around.

"George?" Susan said when she saw it.

-------

Pam woke to sobbing. She was quite relieved when she figured out it wasn't her. She felt stiff and sticky as she rolled up on one elbow. It was early morning, to judge by the light at the windows.

Four cages over, Tandy had stood her cardboard floor on edge to talk to Kate. Kate was the one sobbing, in the cage under Tandy's. Pam couldn't get a good look, but she appeared to be laying still in the center of her cage. Tandy lay on the wire floor right over her, talking supportively.

"You'll get through this. You're tough. Everyone's very impressed by how you bit him. He's going to be scarred for life, that guy."

Relieved that the woman was alive, Pam looked herself over. She wished she could be sure the blood on her was all the dragon's.

"You tried," Lucy said. "At least you tried."

"Yeah," Pam said sourly. "For all the good it did."

Lucy reached a hand down in the corner. Pam stood up and took it. "You know what the question is, though, don't you?"

"Yes," Pam said. "Will I be willing to do it again, now that I know what'll happen." She shrugged. "I hope so."

-----

"What do you think he's doing with them?" Lindsey asked.

Susan tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and shrugged. "Well, if the internet doesn't lie, it's either shrink 'em, boink 'em and keep 'em, or shrink 'em, boink 'em and step on 'em."

After a long moment of silence, Lindsey asked, "Where on the internet have you been?"

"I was looking for forums that are discussing Babes in Toyland. Seeing what the customer's like or dislike. What they hope we'll do in the future." She shivered. "And man, some of them…"

"Yeah," Lindsey nodded. "I've seen some of the emails." They sat in the dark car, watching George's. After a while, Lindsey had a thought. "If he's grabbing women outside of the Amazon Bean, do you think he got Jude?"

"It would explain her vanishing." He came out, carrying a laptop case. They ducked down low as he got into the car and drove off.

His direction was opposite the one Lindsey and Susan waited at. "So, Andrea and Stephanie get to play follow the leader," Susan said.

"And we get to play Scooby Doo." Lindsey led the way up the walk and steps, pausing at the mail boxes. "We can get his apartment number from the names on… Huh. There are no names. Damned security conscious sons of-"

"Of course it's secure." Susan said. She stabbed a thumb over her shoulder towards the parking lot. "The fact that his parking place says 3B may be misinformation."

Lindsey rolled her eyes and opened the door. At the apartment, Susan snapped her fingers. "Should have brought Jim. He could break the door open."

"Coulda, shoulda," Lindsey said as she produced a lockpick. "In fact, it was Jim saying 'don't know nothin' bout lock picking' while we were out to rescue everyone that inspired me to learn." She quickly got the door open and the two slipped inside. "I always knew we'd be breaking and rescuing again some day."

It was dark except for a heat lamp over a large cage.

"Lizard Number One!" Susan said. She rushed over to the cage and smiled down at her former test subject. "I haven't been totally ignored by you in ages!" She noted the box of hypodermic needles beside the cage.

"Well, this is too much of a coincidence," she said. "I guess somehow, this is my formula. But what has he done with it? And… It's GEORGE! Lab monkey is where he peaked."

"I don't know," Lindsey said. "But there aren't any other cages in the apartment."

"Okay." Susan tapped a finger to her lips for a moment. "Okay, we take LNO and we go find out where the others are. Call Steph while I get my test subject ready."

-----

George still had a limp a few days later. He was in no condition for sex, as participant or voyeur. That mean there were no rewards for good sex, he hadn't even brought any nuggets out to the house. Everyone was stuck on dog food and water.

He stalked back and forth along the cages, muttering dark things about what he was going to make the girls do when he was 'up to enjoying things'

Lucy had worked up the nerve to say that Kate needed some protein, if she wasn't going to get medical attention. George had just slammed his fist against her cage door, then kicked Kate's. Both women whimpered and tried to avoid drawing his attention.

"George," Pam said, "have you seen a doctor?"

"No," he said. "How am I going to explain tiny human teeth marks on my dick?"

"Then let me look at it. I have first aid training. Maybe I can do something."

"Yeah, right," he muttered.

"George, if you get gangrene and your dick falls off, we're going to starve to death before you get out of the hospital. Let me help myself by helping you."

He stopped his pacing. "Huh. That makes sense. Okay." He looked around the room for a while. "Let me go get a first aid kit or something. Back in a flash."

He actually left the room lights on when he went out. The girls relaxed once more as the headlights swept past the window.

"Wonder if he'll let me look at Kate, too," Pam wondered aloud.

"If you can relieve his pain, ask right then," Kitty replied.

"Are you trying something?" Sharon asked. Pamela wasn't sure which side Sharon was on. When George played with her, she was entirely his 'creature.' When he was gone, she maintained that it was an act. Either way, either story, she was a good actor.

"No," Pam finally said. "Hate me if you guys want to, but his health really does impact on ours."

"It's fine," Lucy said. "You convinced me as much as you did him."

Everyone was looking at Pamela right then. She was looking back across the row of cages. That made her the only person to see the face in the little window on the front door.

A woman peered inside briefly, then ducked back out of sight. Pamela felt hope surge in her heart for a second. Maybe two.

-----

George brought back several bags from the drugstore. He cleaned the table with alcohol, covered it with a picnic table cover that he also cleaned, spread out some ointments and bandages, a bowl and some bottles.

He moved a bright lamp to the table, popped some pills and then carried Pam over to the new surgery.

He set her down and gingerly pulled his pants down. With great care, he removed his briefs and lay the dick out for her inspection.

She used hydrogen peroxide to soften the scab before removing the bandaid. She reached over, apparently gently, and drove a fingernail against the raw flesh. "Does that hurt?"

"Yeeesh!" he hissed.

"Yep. It's infected," she lied. "And right there where your urine goes by. That's going to keep it tainted." She found a pin and an alcohol pad. He stared down as she wiped and wiped it clean.

"What are you doing?"

"George, we have to let the pus out so it'll heal. It hurts, right?"

"Right."

"So, this will hurt a little bit. But then it'll feel so much better." She grabbed the pin two hands back from the tip. "See, I hold it here so it can't go any deeper than that." She hoped that the door face was here for a rescue. And was waiting for a distraction. Because she'd only ever have one chance for this.

"I'm not sure I trust you," he said, one hand blocking her approach to the wound. She sagged. Then looked up into his eyes.

"To be frank, George, what I want to do is stab you in the eyes. But we'll all die. So what I am GOING to do is make you feel oh, so much better. And then you'll be in a good mood. And when I ask if I can do first aid on Kate, you'll let me. Okay? Enlightened self interest, George. It's all the rage since the Renaissance."

He nodded. "Okay. You're doing this so you can help Kate. That's you all over, Pam. To protect and serve. Alright." He gripped the edge of the table tightly. "Do what you have to."

She knelt at the tip, choked up on the pin and touched a finger to the wound. He hissed. Somewhere in the back of the house she just barely heard the sound of glass breaking.

Deputy Sheriff Pamela Stokes shifted her grip on her weapon and drove it into the purple helmet before her. She tried her level best to pin him to the table.

He screamed as she spun to the little first aid kit pincushion and grabbed two more. As he swore and reached for her, she stabbed one into the palm of his hand, all the way through and out the back.

He swore again and swept her off the table. She found that his swings seemed to be coming in slow motion. It was child's play to drive the last pin into his forearm until it reached bone, then use that as a handle to stay on his arm.

George tried to shake her off. The body movement tugged on his pinned prick, producing pain. His natural reflex was to pull away from the pain. That didn't help. Screaming and tugging, he forgot his passenger.

She swarmed up his sleeve to his shoulder. Her father, a war-time medic, had taught her a simple method to tell just how passed out the drunks she collected were.

There are an amazing number of pain receptors in the human ear lobe. Pinch that and anyone shamming would bolt out of the ditch or back seat or booth.

It was as if a halo surrounded his ear lobe as she approached. She grabbed it with both hands, driving in the nails, and bit as hard as she was able.

Something clouted her from behind. It blurred her vision, but she had already found her target. She hung on grimly.

He hit her again and the room went dark.

Pamela woke to moaning. This time it was hers. She lifted a hand to her head and found that both were bandaged. Lucy leaned into her vision.

"You okay, Pam?" Pam realized that her head was cradled on Lucy's lap. A wet cloth dabbed at her forehead.

"Pammy's not here right now," she said. "At the sound of the migraine, please leave two aspirin and shoot me."

"Well, the good news, the giants know how to calculate the dosage." Lucy gestured to the side. Pamela turned her head.

The table looked odd. It seemed that every shrunken girl in the house was on it somewhere. Kitty was coming towards them with a twist of paper and a doll's cup of water.

Tandy had Kate's head in her lap and Stella was feeding her something from a bowl.

Further on, three women were selecting and donning clothes from a mesh bag. Others here and there were eating or just sat, staring into space.

And two were talking to a giant. A young woman was writing on a note pad as Dana spoke up at her. Pam realized that Lucy had used the plural. She looked around as Kitty mixed the powdered pill in the water.

Another giant woman was zip-tying George to a chair. His earlobe was bloody and apparently untreated. She couldn't see if his pants had been pulled up or the condition of Little George.

She sipped at the offered drink and looked in the other direction. The only thing in the stacked cages was an iguana. Yet another giant woman was taking a blood sample from him. She wore latex gloves and took care with the sample. Beside her was a TV tray with a microscope.

Just the idea that someone was trying to understand what had been done to them… Pamela's throat threatened to close. She fought back tears and finished her drink.

"Oh, god, Pam, what's wrong?" Lucy asked. She glanced over at the woman doing the sciencey stuff. "Hey, Susan says she's pretty sure she can restore us. All of us. Once she understands exactly what happened, so she can do it safely."

Tears started to flow then. "I had lost all hope," Pam said softly. "I just hoped we'd get away from George. I couldn't even ask God to send someone… Someone…"

"How's she doing?" a voice asked as tits hove into view over their heads. Pamela tilted her head back and tried to focus. The bosom leaning down over her looked strangely familiar.

"Lindsey!" she shouted in recognition.

"I'm sorry?" the owner of that cleavage asked. "Have we met?"

"No, but everyone on the force knows Lindsey and the Lindsey Effect." She started to giggle. It was amazing how the connection to her former life made her feel. "Deputy Miller always calls in a Code 38 when you're walking down the street!" The laughter made her head throb but she couldn't stop.

"'Just follow that ass,' he says. 'Sooner or later, someone'll drive into a telephone pole. Write it up as 'rode hazard' for the insurance.'"

"Um… I wasn't aware that-"

"Then you're the only one," the woman tying George up said. "Your ass has ruined four relationships that I know of personally."

"The Sheriff says, if you ever wear spandex on the street, he's- he's-" Pamela gulped for air. "He's gonna make you file an Environmental Impact Statement."

Lindsey blushed. The girl with the ties stepped up to hug her supportively. "It's okay, Lindsey. We don't just love you for your figure."

"Thanks, Andrea."

"Andrea," Susan called. "Can I get a sample of George's blood?"

"Sure," the sustaining blonde said. She picked up a pair of scissors from the medical supplies piled near Kate. "Earlobe okay?"

------

When she could stand, Pamela walked around and talked to all the girls on the table, making sure they were okay. The ones that responded, that talked to her, were all grateful for her brave attack on the creep.

Lucy followed along, directing the more stable ones to sit next to the ones that were a little shocky. Lindsey pushed clothing and food like a disaster relief worker.

Finally, Pam walked up to where Stephanie was typing on George's laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for missing person's reports. We have you guys accounted for, but we were kind of expecting to find Jude. Creep was collecting in the area around her store. I'm looking to see if there are any other disappeared women."

"Ah. I could help with that if I can call my office."

Stephanie looked straight at the little cop. "We'd rather you didn't, not just yet." She leaned back from the computer. "Susan's a little leery about who finds out about her formula. Surely you can see the whole 'in the wrong hands' argument?" Pam nodded. "Well, you guys are safe now, no matter what happens. And if Susan can, we'll restore you. We'd like to keep it all secret, but we're going to have to come up with a story everyone can agree to."

"What if we don't?" Pam asked.

Stephanie shook her head firmly. "I've been shrunk and caged myself, Deputy. I won't do that to anyone just because it's a whim of mine, or convenient. If we can't get an agreement…" She started across the room for a moment. "Maybe we can just get you guys to give Susan a head start?"

"Maybe," Pamela said. "Wait. You've been shrunk?" Stephanie nodded. "You guys aren't on that website, are you?"

"Yeah!" Stephanie said with surprise. "You've seen Babes of Toyland?"

"I don't know the name," Pam said, shaking her head. "George just showed us a girl getting…disciplined. And made us act it out." She looked at the other giant women for a second. "I don't see her here."

"Disciplined?" Stephanie repeated. She opened George's internet history and scrolled a bit. She opened a page. Pam hissed in recognition and Steph glanced at her. When she saw the deputy's expression, she turned the laptop so none of the women on the table would see the images.

Then she paid attention to what was displayed.

"Hey, guys?" she said slowly. "You need to come see this."

------

It was like something out of a mystery movie, Pamela thought. Everyone involved was assembled. The girls lined the table.

The cages had been thrown in the basement. Lizard Number One was in their place, in the bigger cage from George's apartment.

George was still tied to his chair at one edge of the room. His complaints and demands for his rights had led Andrea to apply a gag. He seemed more upset that all of his 'chosen' had cheered the gagging then about the gag itself.

Three of the rescuers were seated behind the table.

Susan stood in the empty space in the middle of the room, discussing three days of research and her discovery.

"Finally, George here has a one in a million, or rarer, condition that makes my formula ineffective. It's why he didn't shrink when he touched LNO's blood."

"So we can't just give him a shot of formula, shrink him and keep HIM in a cage," Lindsey said.

"Not as things stand," Susan said. The chosen moaned in disappointment. George kicked at the floor with his feet. No one glanced at him.

"But you can restore all of us?" Pamela asked.

"Sure," Susan said. "I've got the antidote processing. Once I get enough doses, I'll be able to bring you all back to normal."

"Does, uh," Kitty asked. Or tried to. "When we get the antidote… Will we… Will it…?"

"Are we going to be blind horny fuck kittens, is what she's asking," Lucy supplied.

"I don't think so," Susan said. She paused and stared off into space. Andrea stood and eased her roommate into a chair.

"Okay, she's calculating things in her head," she explained to the room. "She'll be back later. Now, you guys'll all be normal by the weekend. Then what?"

They all stared at her. "What do you mean?" Tandy asked.

"Well, there are a few concerns. Keeping the formula secret, if you guys don't mind?" They nodded. Some more quickly than others. "Okay, anyone that's keeping the secret is an automatic partner in Babes of Toyland. You don't have to perform. I figure all owners get at least a single share, and performers get three shares for each-"

"We can settle that later, Andrea," Stephanie said.

"Oh. Yeah. Okay. So, if we're agreed on that, we need a cover story on where you all have been for the last few weeks."

"Technically," Kitty said, "if we say that a guy kidnapped us, raped us, kept us locked up in his parent's old abandoned home, we won't be lying." She looked over at Pam for her reaction.

"And," Lucy offered, "as long as the prosecutor doesn't ask, 'Did he shrink you down to ten inches tall?' we don’t have to bring it up."

"We can tell our therapist, can't we?" Tandy asked. "That the kidnapper SEEMED to be thirty feet tall when he tied us down?"

"But even if we all promise to keep to the story," Pamela pointed out, "we don't know if George will."

"We can't let George talk to anyone," Lucy said. "Hell, I don't think I'll sleep at night if George is anywhere he might get free."

"You're talking about killing him," Pamela said. "I can't accept that. I mean, I can see bending the laws, but not actually murdering a man. It would be different if we could shrink him but-"

"We can shrink him," Susan said.

Everyone stared. Andrea put a hand on her shoulder. "Susan, sweetheart, you JUST said that we can't shrink him."

"No I didn't. I said the formula won't work on his current biochemistry."

"You can change the formula to match his biochemistry?" Lindsey asked.

"I suppose I could…" Her voice trailed off as she aimed for another fugue state.

Andrea snapped her fingers in front of the girl's face. "Susan! Stay here! How long will that take?"

"I don't know," Susan replied. She stood and started pacing. "But I could define the parameters of a study to look at the formula, at his body's specific traits. I think we could establish the schedule for the research to find out what we need to do to the formula, then start altering the formula. Have the schedule in two weeks, then probably, based on the initial development, I think you'll find it will take me six months to get a formula version matched to his biochemistry."

George tried to grin around his gag. There was no way they could keep him secretly kidnapped for six months and two weeks. The others moaned. Susan reached for something on her TV tray. She armed the atropine injector and stabbed it into George's thigh.

"Or," she said. "We could alter his biochemistry. He should be 9 inches tall by six." The creep tried to scream, twisting and pounding his feet. All he managed to do was tip the chair over backwards. Everyone stared for a second then turned back to their meeting.

"Okay," Pam said. "We flesh out a story. We burn the house down to cover any forensic findings that argue against the story. We tell the law, and the press, that a mysterious stranger saved us." She smiled over at Susan who was altering George's restraints to match his shifting size. "That's not a lie, either."

"And," Lucy finished, "we say that George escaped."

"Not that he's dead?" Lindsey asked.

"Dead means there's a murder investigation," Pam said. "A lot more forensic attention to the house. They find tiny cages, but nothing that would hold full-sized women, it ruins the story."

"If he's just escaped, their attention turns outwards," Andrea said with a nod. "Okay. So, anything we forgot?"

"What about him?" Kitty asked.

"Oh, don't you worry about him," Andrea said. "I have… a cunning plan."

----------

Jim stood up from leaning against his car and opened the doors. Susan smiled up at him as he handed her into the front seat.

Stephanie threw herself into the back as if she was trying to punish the upholstery. Pamela went around to the street side and let herself in. She tossed the now-empty mesh bag to the shelf under the rear window.

Susan waved at Madeline as the car pulled away. Steph glared at the tiny shadow in back of the dollhouse display. "I don't believe you're going to forgive that little witch."

"Forgive, yes, trust, no," Susan said.

"What? You told her you were going to restore her!"

"I told Cheryl I'd restore her height, yes." She turned around to face the back seat. "But with what I've learned from LNO and Howard, I can make an antidote that wears off. She'll have to get regular shots to keep from shrinking again."

"Which you'll have to make for her," Pam said with a small smile. "Meaning she can't risk pissing you off."

"Exactly. Besides, Cheryl says she's changed."

"Cheryl says a lot of things," Steph said. "What was that crap about you being so angry for so long?"

"Oh, who knows. Maybe she was projecting how she'd have felt in my shoes."

-----

Cheryl seated herself comfortably and regarded her life. Her foot moved back and forth. The shoe covering it represented a lot of change, all of it positive.

She was eighteen inches tall now. Susan had given her a tiny dose of the antidote, as a peace-making gesture. Now the only thing they had in the shop that was her size had been made for a Playboy Centerfold figure.

The corset constricted a bit but the boots….ah, the boots gave her a wonderful feeling of power. She shifted her ass a tiny bit, improving the angle of the stiletto heels. Her seat became a bit more difficult to stay upon.

Susan wanted to pretend that all the last few months of threats and angry exchanges hadn't happened. Cheryl was willing to go along with that. She wanted to keep Susan happy.

Stephanie had made new threats, Pamela had made dark promises, Madeline had made brighter ones. All that didn't matter, though. She knew that Susan would certainly make sure that she never had the chance to steal the formula again. Or if she did, that she'd regret it.

But for right now, business was booming and it looked like it could only get better. They had passed 5000 sales and Maddy had kept her promise.

Cherly dragged her heels across the armpit and found that really sensitive spot. Maddy screeched and arched her back. The breast under Cheryl's behind wobbled, but she was becoming a master at keeping the nipple trapped under her cheeks.

When she tired of this torture, she spun around and stood on the giant sternum. "Now, I'm going to walk down to your panties, Madeline. You know how hard it is to walk in these shoes, so you need to stay extra still."

"But they tickle!" Maddy complained. "Those heels are like tiny little-"

"Still," Cheryl ordered. "If I fall down before I get to your panties, I won't touch anything under them."

"Oh, please!" Maddy whimpered. She started to squirm. Cheryl probably could have ridden through the motion but she had a point to make. She staggered ever so slightly and moved one foot. Maddy froze, though her expression contorted. "I'll… I'll try, Cheryl. I'll try."

"You'd better." Cheryl stabbed a heel down towards the bone. "I'd hate to have to find something to amuse me at, say, your knees?" She turned and walked slowly south. She made tiny little steps, but carefully swung her ass, knowing it was being stared at hungrily.

Madeline was as good as her word and stayed still until Cheryl was standing on the elastic of her panties. She hopped completely over the fabric and stood upon the sheet.

She knelt, making sure to keep her face where Madeline could see it. At least, as long as the woman strained her neck muscles to keep it up.

But the hand stroking the panties wasn't visible. Now the boss was really squirming, twisting her torso in an attempt to increase the pressure coming through the fabric.

Cheryl reached out and lifted the hem of each leg opening. She let her fingernails trail across the sensitive skin as she ran her hands down the edges, then back up again.

Madeline gasped. Her leg muscles tightened against Cheryl's elbows. The tiny woman gathered the crotch of the panties into one hand. It was a lot easier to pull them to the side than it had been at 4000 sales.

The lips revealed were glistening, waiting. Cheryl regarded them hungrily for a moment.

"Please?" Maddy whined. Cheryl looked up with one eyebrow raised.

"Are you telling me how to do this?" She stretched the panty material back across the giant pussy.

"No, no, no!" Maddy said urgently. "I"ll be quiet. I'll be quiet."

"Well…." Cheryl drawled. "You shouldn't talk." She stroked the panties over the clit. Her captive hissed. "I doubt that you'll be quiet."
-----

And finally:

Madeline placed Cheryl down on the table and started to set up the camera. The little woman had several sheets of paper in her hand and made a show of flipping back and forth through the stack.

George crouched at the end of the bed he was chained to. His eyes flickered from the woman twice his height to the looming giantess in the background, then back again.

"Now," Cheryl said. "We have a number of requests. Tandy is kind of general, Lucy is very specific…" She paused. "Kate's would be lethal." She shuffled the paper. "We'll move that to the back of the stack," she said with a smile. George shuddered at the show of teeth.

"Of course, we do have one from a partner in the firm. Two, really." She pulled the top sheet out and dangled it over the little man's head. "Jade was a friend of Amy's. The senior partner of the company wants to know what you did with her. Her request depends on your cooperation."

"I told you, I don't-"

"Yeah, yeah," Cheryl said. "Don't know nothing about no missing shop owner." She looked at the request. "Well, that's going to mean we use… Oh, that'll have to wait." She put the paper next to Kate's.

"I guess, then, that leaves us with… We'll try Tandy's for now." She clipped the 'scripts' to a holder off-stage and picked up a tiny ball gag. "Stand up." George stood slowly and opened his mouth. He was always gagged, one way or another, before the camera came on. No appeals for help would exist, even on the cutting room floor.

When he was ready, Cheryl gave Maddy a thumb's up. The camera came on. Cheryl stood facing the lens. "Tandy, this one is for you," she said, then reached up. Madeline handed her a Barbie-scale dildo, taped to the eraser end of a pencil.

George whimpered behind his gag. "Alright, maggot," Cheryl said. "I'm told you know how this works. Spread 'em wide, and smile for the camera."


Return to Index