Swindled

Michael awoke feeling stiff and sore all over, the ground under him soft and spongy. Body aching, he struggled to sit upright only to find he was covered in an orangey colored diaphanous material reminding him of parachute silk. There was soft illumination all around, but he could not pinpoint a source, the area through the material indistinct.

There was strong scent of incense hanging in the air, cloying and thickly sweet.

There was groan a short distance off to his left, soft and feminine. Pushing through the fabric, he saw Mirielle lying there supine, nude. Her body proportionate to his the way it was before he was shrunk.

“Yes!” he yelled out triumphantly. It’s over, thank fucking Christ! He pumped his fist.

Groaning again, she rolled onto her side, facing him, eyes blinking independently a few times before synchronizing.

Shuffling through the fabric, he moved to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. He was of half a mind to roll her onto her stomach and just take her abruptly from behind for the liberties she had taken with him.

“What?” she murmured, her voice distant and not quite completely coherent.

Nodding, lopsided grin on his face. She seemed so small now. When he had been shrunk, she was so incredibly massive, frightening almost. Eyes roaming down her naked body, he couldn’t believe she had stuffed him into her cunt and her ass. He was bigger than her now and the shoe was definitely now on the other foot.

“Michael?’ she asked, focusing her eyes on his face.

“In the flesh,” he said, licking his lower lip. Fuck, big, small, she was still fucking gorgeous. Only now he would be the one in charge he thought. Nodding his head slowly.

“It worked,” she commented, pushing herself into a seated position against the sheer fabric. “Why am I naked?” she asked, as if just noticing her lack of clothing for the first time.

“Maybe you’re my reward for all the shit your and Maddie and her whore girlfriends put me through,” he suggested, sneering off the side of his face.

Mirielle shook her head, “I don’t think so. There’s something wrong here,” she commented, pushing her hands up against the semi-translucent material.

Rocking back up onto his knees, “Yeah, like now I’m not so small, let’s see how you handle me,” he stated confidently, touching his flaccid penis.

She looked at him and pursed her lips, “No, I’m telling you something is amiss,” she stated.

He reached out and grabbed at her right breast.

Taking hold of the ring and little fingers of his right hand, she bent them backward forcefully, causing him pain. “I knew you wouldn’t honor your end of things,” she snapped, giving his nearly dislocated fingers an extra crank before releasing his hand and pushing it forcibly away.

Cradling his injured fingers in his left hand, “You put me between your butt cheeks and crammed inside your asshole!” he complained, face a mixture of anger and hurt.

“You have been chasing after that ass for the last two years, so you’re welcome,” she snorted, holding her hands up to look for the ring they had used in the ceremony, but finding her fingers bare. “Dammit,” she cursed.

“You used me,” he accused, flexing the fingers on his right hand as the pain diminished. “For your own twisted satisfaction.”

“So now what? To get even, you’re going to try and rape me to get your revenge? So we had a little fun together you and I. Get over it. Need I remind you I was the one who took you out of the clutches of those girls and brought you to Lucie?” she retorted.

He stared at her hard, wishing she was small.

“Now, help me find the edge of this thing,” she said, crawling through the fabric on hands and knees.

“Where are you going?” he asked, hurrying to catch up to her.

“I’m trying to figure that out and the last thing I need right now is you behaving like an asshole. Be thankful you’re not small anymore, otherwise that’s exactly where I would put you, except this time head first,” she replied, an edge to her voice.

Following her in silence, they came to a precipitous drop, the fabric spilling down the side into shadow.

“What?” he asked. Craning his head forward trying to look over the side of the dangerous edge, he pulled back.

Turning her head, she looked at him, face an unhappy mask of anger. “Let’s follow the edge. Be careful you don’t slip over, the fall will kill you,” she said, turning and moving under the fabric along the edge of the drop. Continuing along, they reached a right angle, a huge wooden pillar stretching up and out of sight through the material.

Suddenly Mirielle sat back on her haunches, “Let’s see if we can pull this up,” she suggested, flicking a glance in his direction, grabbing hold of the material and trying to pull it up from over the edge of the drop. The fabric was fairly light and sheer, together they were able to draw the material up until an edge passed over them. Getting to her feet, hands on her hips, she started to laugh as her eyes followed the great wooden support pillar.

Michael stopped, “What’s so funny?” he asked, trying to figure out what caused her to laugh.

“I think I know where we are,” she stated, slight nod of her head. There were four long wooden columns extending skyward, the same flimsy material hanging high overhead. At the far end opposite them were two huge mounds of fabric.

“Oh?” he remarked, “Where?” he inquired, peering out into the distant gloom.

She turned her head to look at him, amused expression on her face, “This is someone’s bed,” she said. “Four poster, pillows at the far end,” she said pointing.

He looked, mouth falling open. She was right. He hadn’t been restored. Someway, somehow, the magic had instead made Mirielle small and he was still the same size. It was all he could do not to cry.