Paul jumped down from the ottoman and ran after her. "Kim, wait!"

It took him quite a few strides to advance across the room. He rounded the corner and almost ran into Kimberly's giant, sandaled foot. His eyes traveled up her body to her concerned face.

"I don't know what you're up to, Paul, but if I were you, I wouldn't let it go any further than this," she said imperiously.

Paul shrugged. "What on earth are you talking about? I was gonna tell you congratulations."

"Don't change the subject. I'm talking about Brooke. You should stay away from her." She pointedly did not pick him up or stoop to his height. She spoke to him from on high. This was a command, not a request.

He looked down at himself. "Kim, seriously, what does Brooke have to fear from me?"

"I wasn't thinking of her welfare. I was thinking of yours."

He scoffed, his male ego unable to admit to a girl that another girl posed a threat him. "Don't you think you're being a teensy bit hypocritical, Kim?" he countered.

She folded her arms over her expansive chest. "How so?"

"You're hooking up with an older man. Why shouldn't your stepdaughter be allowed to do so?"

"Because she's different than me."

"In some ways, yes. In other ways—" He stretched his upper body suggestively. "—you and her are quite alike."

She bristled. She felt betrayed. "I thought you had matured past this. I thought you were making strides."

"I don't know what you think you heard me say, but I will never stop being attracted to women."

She pointed her finger at him. "I'm warning you, Paul. Don't let her get to you." She turned on her heel and strode into the kitchen, the floor trembling with her footsteps.

Before Paul could process this strange encounter, Brooke returned from the other direction with hurried steps, her 130 foot-tall body moving astonishingly swiftly. "There you are! I'm sorry I left you, Mr. Briggs."

Her bare feet stopped on either side of him, giving him an unobstructed view of her crotch. Her long, lean legs formed a vaulted ceiling high above him, topped by her skimpy jean shorts that ended just under the modest curve of her butt cheeks. She bent at the waist until her V-shaped torso was parallel to the floor, her long, dirty blond hair hanging down.

"Whatchya looking at?" she said in a sing-song voice.

"Just getting used to my new surroundings."

She held the pose as she studied him like a prize behind the ticket redemption counter at Chuck E. Cheese. "And what do you think?"

"Looking better every minute," he said, turning up the charm.

She swung her arm down and plucked him off the carpet. She held him in front of her pixyish face, thumb and forefinger firmly squeezing his chest. He hung in the air above her neckline, which was cut low enough to show a couple of inches of cleavage from his angle, enough to gobble him up.

"That's because you're shrinking, Mr. Briggs. Everything looks bigger to you than it did a minute ago. This house and everything in it, for example. The ottoman, the carpet, even me." Her other hand glided deliberately up the side of her body and over her throat. "And you know what they say: Bigger is better."

Paul's tiny boner saluted her. Brooke was bigger than big. If bigger was better, then she was the best, or close to it. She could give Kimberly a run for her money. Part of it was because of her pornstar-quality looks, but most of it was due to her kinky personality.

She pulled him in closer. For a second he thought she was going to kiss him. He stuggled against her iron grip as her pouty lips approached, but her mouth and chin moved up and to the side. She deposited him on her shoulder, on top of the collar of her blouse where her bra strap ran underneath.

She turned her head, almost knocking him down. "You stay there, Mr. Briggs. I'm going to need to use my hands to cut my dad's birthday cake."

He steadied himself by holding onto her hair. He leaned forward, trying peer down her blouse and glimpse her full mounds in motion as she walked into the kitchen. The other guests were standing around the dining table. He assumed a relaxed, unassuming demeanor.

Kimberly's blue eyes smoldered when she saw him. Now that she was off the market, there was something about her that he hadn't noticed before. He couldn't name it, but it was a turnoff.

"Look who's here, Daddy," Brooke said.

Andy, who's eyes barely cleared the table, spotted his friend on his daughter's shoulder. "Paul! I didn't know you were here."

"I'm easy to miss," he cracked.

"I mean, I didn't hear you come in," Andy clarified. "Well, I'm glad you made it. Roy, Trina, this is my coworker and best pal, Paul. Paul, these are Kimberly's parents—"

"Roy and Trina, got it. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you as well," Trina said. Roy said nothing. He was trying to look at something else. The sight of a 3-inch man juxtaposed to Brooke's large, perky breasts was too much for him.

Brooke lit the candles on the cake, and Kimberly turned out the lights. After they sang "Happy Birthday," Andy blew out the candles. Everyone started serving themselves. Roy and Trina had brought pot roast and green beans. Kimberly had made bacon-wrapped asparagus.

"Don't fall," Brooke whispered to Paul, as she leaned over the landscape of food and started cutting the cake. Her advice was redundant. He didn't need to be warned to not become part of someone's meal.

After she made her plate, she sat at the table and commenced eating. She took a bite of pot roast and pulled a string of meat off her fork. She gave it to Paul. "Eat up."

He devoured the meat, as he was pretty hungry, and licked his fingers clean. Nothing, however, compared to his appetite for Brooke's massive body. He walked along her thin, round shoulder to her neck and ran his hand over her skin, fascinated by the contrast between her dimplish pores and smooth, light brown freckles. Her jaws worked powerfully as she chewed, pulverizing more mass than constituted his whole body. Above him, a white earring stud glinted in her ear lobe. Below, her chest sloped over the table toward her flying saucer-sized dinner plate piled with food. A slim girl like Brooke shouldn't be able to consume such quantities, but everybody's plate looked like that.

"Why don't you open your presents now," Kimberly suggested.

"Okay," Andy said. "I'll open yours first."

Paul ignored the proceedings, and it was safe to say the rest of the party ignored him. He had bigger things on his mind, anyway. Two bigger things, to be exact. Looking down Brooke's chest, the opening to her spacious cleavage was like a black hole, from which nothing, not even light, could escape. He was a smidgen under 3 inches tall now and could easily lose himself between her heavenly orbs. How much bigger they would be if he shrank to 2 inches tall, or 1 inch tall, or 1 centimeter tall. He found himself wishing that the shrinking specialist's estimate was wrong, that he would continue to shrink until tits such as these could truly become like worlds to him.

Letting go of her hair, he ventured farther and farther out from the safety of her shoulder to get a better view down her blouse. He could make out the edge of a sexy, black bra pressed against her pale flesh.

"A Jerry Garcia tie! Thanks, Kim!" Andy announced, showing everyone atthe table. "I'll wear this on my first day back to work."

"Open mine next, Daddy," Brooke said. She half-stood and pushed her present towards her father.

It was enough movement to cause Paul to lose his balance. He fell down Brooke's buxom chest, missing sliding down her cleavage by millimeters. Instead he slid on his belly over her taut blouse and ramped off her bust. He somersaulted through the air and landed on his back on a sticky, crispy substance.

Brooke giggled at Paul's frosting-covered form lying on top of her cake. She looked around at the others. They were all watching Andy and didn't notice Paul's predicament. Acting natural, she speared the side of the cake with her fork and lifted the large piece containing Paul to her mouth. Opening wide, she fit the whole piece of cake through her lips.

Paul spat the sweet frosting out of his mouth. He was coated with the stuff and could barely move. He felt the heat rising from the warm cake into his prone body. His world suddenly rocked and he knew he was being raised up. He wiped his eyes in time to see Brooke's pearly whites descending over him. He screamed, but no one heard him. The frosting clogged his ears, rendering the voice amplifier moot.

Brooke held still as she watched her father unwrap his gift, keeping the bite of cake on her warm tongue, letting the frosting liquify and the cake to break apart. She felt Paul moving around. He didn't taste like a shrunken man. He was more like a piece of food that was alive. She swished him around her mouth, cleaning cake and icing off his body with her teeth and tongue, and sucking on his limbs—his arms or legs, she couldn't tell.

"Three tickets to the home game against Wisconsin?" Andy said, looking at her.

Brooke smiled behind her pursed lips. She tilted Paul into her cheek so she could talk. "You and Kim can come visit me that weekend."

"Let me see that." Roy, a bigtime college football fan, took the tickets from Andy and studied them under his glasses. "Second row, 40-yard line. Well done, Brooke."

Brooke inclined her head, deflecting his praise. "Happy birthday, Daddy."

"Thank you, Brooke." He stood up to reach Roy's and Trina's gifts.

Ensuring no one was looking, Brooke pushed Paul to the front of her mouth and pulled him through her lips by his arm. He came out gasping for air, and she set him on the dining table.

Covered in melted white frosting and saliva, and energized with rage, Paul belted out a string of curses at her.

Kimberly noticed his demonstration. He was barely audible over the crinkling of wrapping paper. She had no clue where he'd just been, or what he was saying. "Uh-oh, I think Paul's voice amplifier stopped working."

"Run upstairs and get my old one, will you, Brooke?" Andy responded.

Brooke stood up. "I hope I can remember where I left it."

"I'll help her," Kimberly said, glancing at Paul before heading upstairs, too.

Paul grunted in anger and nibbled on a green bean while the party went on hold until the girls returned.