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| The tapping of her foot on the carpeted floor set up a comforting rhythm that paradoxically made her uneasy. Cable television offered no respite for a soul troubled as deeply as hers. Seeing Honey I Shrunk the Kids brought her problems screaming to the fore, most notably the part with the cereal bowl. The intense images, memories really, were a petulant child demanding attention. Her reverie collapsed with a thumping. "Room service," sang out the voice in the tone of one who's being paid to exude cheer. "Come in, it's ajar," Lauren called out. Crap, was a statement she kept to herself, the server was female. She watched the young woman wield a silver platter bearing goods Lauren barely recalled ordering. Her attention was on the trim body nearly masked by the uniform forced upon it by hotel policy. She couldn't have been more than twenty-one; a slip of a thing working her way through college most likely. The delicate plume of brown hair ripped free a memory of the screaming cheerleader and Lauren held in her own scream. "Is everything okay, ma'am?" Her mind, body, and conscience refused to cooperate. "Run before it's too late." The statement was hollow at best. Her dominant hand had already grasped the shrink ray and aimed it. Lauren could do little more than watch as her newest victim ebbed into a speck of her former self. She charged and snatched her target from the carpeting and pushed the door fully closed. Several options appealed to her at this point, but which was best? The helpless little thing spkoe first. "Please, why did you do this?" Lauren eyed her with a blend of pity and self-loathing. "I can't not do this to any beautiful woman I see now." She allowed herslef to caress the doll fondly. The captive was then pressed, face-first, against her tongue. "I have to taste you, to consume you in this snack-size form. But I can't do this to another person. My only options now are to flush you like you're a bag of drugs, or shrink you smaller and stash you with another room's order. At least with the second choice I'll be able to share your delicious flavor with someone else." Kara, the server, gazed up at her captor. The pleading look across her entire face could barely be seen and she knew it. She knew the occupant of 519 was too distracted to even try to notice. Some part of her pushed aside the panic, the fear, and the booming God-voice overhead. That part could marvel at the expanse of white walls forming a row of perfect teeth. The minutia within the tanned cheeks turned an otherwise gorgeous face into an alien terrain and Kara couldn't help but wonder how her own skin would appear under such scrutinty. She couldn't help but wonder how soft the giant woman's hands normally felt when she considered the crushing force one was closing to applying to her reduced frame. It still bore vestiges of softness despite the leathery thickness. She also stole a downward glance to a generous swelling of cleavage. Kara had never felt any lesbian tendencies before, but couldn't find any other way to describe her desire to be down there with this stranger's breasts. "Don't kill me," she pleaded in her voice that still barely reached beyond girlish. "Let's talk." Her arm ached, the shoulder coming free from the socket. The world arced below her as she swung in his grip. Her anger had the boundlessness of space in the light of her situation. She had once been a college professor, but was now the toy of a summer term student she had rightfully flunked. If only she hadn't agreed to an office meeting then� then he probably would have gotten her someplace else was the the ultimate realization. Better the seclusion of her office than the hazards of a parking lot or bathroom ambush. She had witnessed both while in his possession and the results had been predictable: squashed under a tire and drowned in her own urine and feces, respectively. "Peter," she called out while using her free arm to alternate between covering her breasts and crotch. "Yes, Jennifer?" he asked, his tone spewing hatred and derision. "Haven't you made your point?" the tiny brunette pleaded. "I'm sorry that you're 'stuck' in college another semester, but this accomplishes nothing. I cannot change your grade while I'm like this." She swept that free arm across her dangling form. He regarded his late-twenties capture. Her hair showed early signs of whiteness, but it improved her appeal in an indescribable way. "Nice try, but in your office you said it was too late to change my grade." He swung her faster and enjoyed her powerless condition. Memories of how the other girls had taken out their anger on little Jennifer until her vagina bled were resurfacing as he walked with her. "You will be happy to know this is over, though." He flipped her through the air into the glass tank that housed his new pet snake. Pete couldn't be bothered to look back and see if she had survived the landing. |
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