The girl next door

St. Louis, Chesterfield suburb

How had it come to this? The heat was palpable, almost unbearable, but thankfully, the sticky wrappings around his torso and limbs had finally been loosened and he had retained some freedom of movement. For all the good that did him. He was still confined in the dank and dark recesses, the motion below and all around him of undulation and the occasional constriction. It was impossible to find footing, for the ‘ground’ itself moved and arched. And the pool of acrid sludge which bit as his ankles and began to burn up his thighs continued to worsen his plight. It prevailed upon him that he was being extinguished.

The sound of her heart murmurs was a constant and seemed to be increasing in speed due to the girl’s excitement. There was a steady ‘bahwrum’ as the muscle enclosing him hummed like an engine. Lastly were the occasional squelching sounds from one side or another from what he realized were ducts releasing acids into growing pool which surrounded him. From all around, he heard…laughter. It struck him to the very core of his being, even worse than his current physical ailments. What a fool he had been. To ease his own suffering, his mind played back the events which had led him to this point.

It was more than two years ago when he had…

--

…first come to live in the subsidized housing complex. It was spring and the still-young man, good-looking and fit at the age of thirty-one, had been downsized from his job as an engineer at a corporate company. Brett Jameson had needed a break from the helter-skelter of constant deadlines before rejoining his field. A bit of a fitness freak, his sports hobbies and workout regimen were some of the things which allowed him to retain his sanity. Though he had plenty of money in the bank to last him several years, the break was intended to last a year or year-and-a-half, and yet his lack of employment had allowed him to successfully apply for the cheaper housing. He didn’t need a fancy place, just something to tide him by for awhile so that he could mentally recuperate as well as visit family – his father and brother also living in the suburb, and only a handful of blocks away to the west. So he took a two-bedroom apartment on the second floor in one of the buildings overlooking the center of the complex. He was a bit of a people watcher and the central location served these purposes well.

Just a little ways (several hundred yards) to the east, across a field which separated it from the complex, was the high school. Thinking nothing of it at the time, it would have important consequences for him over the next two years and four months.

With the advent of shrinking technology in the previous decade, huge changes had quickly evolved within society. Although research was originally funded to pioneer technological advancement in the fields of storage and conservation, within two years the suggestion had been made that it could also be utilized to remove the less desirable people from society by the act of simply swallowing them, thus allowing mankind to strive towards a Utopian model. The initial popularity of the idea within central Europe quickly expanded and successful trial experiences by three local governments, one each within England, France and Germany. The United States and Russia quickly followed suit and soon, there was broad appeal to the rest of the world. LUMP (Legal Ultra Miniaturization Penalization ) Foods had been created as a multinational umbrella corporation not long after the shrinking technology had become viable to provide this service.

‘Lumps’ (Legally Ultra Miniaturized Persons), were initially the shrunken versions of irredeemable and unfortunate persons in society who typically had committed a severe crime or were repeat offenders of less severe crimes and thus, the judicial system acted as the source of persons to be shrunken into foodstuffs, but with the popularity of the service, the shrinking had expanded in recent years to those deemed as ‘underachievers’ - persons deemed as too lazy, too violent, lacking intelligence, etc. This had created the need for more plants to open across the world and the creation of more local highly trained employees for each area. Over time, these employees were given more and more discretion to act on their own experiences and interactions within their communities and encouraged to investigate and root out underachievers, though all persons who were shrunk down were required to be documented and the reasons for why they were thus penalized. Many referred to the shrunken people as ‘lumps’ or ‘shrinkys’ and boxes of LUMPs could be found at special outlets or in select grocery store chains around the world, with boxes sized for 4, 8, 12, and even the ‘super-package’ of 24 lumps. Recently, the company had even begun partnering with select fast-food chains where boxes of LUMPs could even be purchased via drive-thru.

--

Brett had noticed the girl for the first time as he and the movers carried his items to his apartment. She was outside playing with her friends – he didn’t pay much mind to her, as she looking to be no older than fifteen or sixteen, but something about her caught his attention. She was cute, a tanned brunette with short hair, and seemed curious about him and the items he was having moved. And she didn’t show any trepidation making eye contact with him. He nodded at her and smiled, though her response was stoic.

--

Brett wasted no time in converting the second bedroom, the one with window and small balcony overlooking the center of the complex, into his office, setting up his computer monitor in front of the large window, with the small door to the balcony just to it’s side. This afforded him a bird’s eye view of the center of the area while he worked and played on his computer.

It wasn’t long before he realized the cute young girl who had stared so curiously and brashly at him when he moved in was living catty-corner to him (but on the first floor) with what he deemed to be her single mother. He never saw a male adult enter or leave the apartment or even around the two. But while there was an absence of an adult male presence, there was no shortage of female visitors. Most were the age of the girl and Brett often heard them playing outside during the late spring and summer months, running around, giggling and sometimes screaming, and having fun and enjoying each other’s company for the most part. And occasionally, some young boys were allowed or invited to join, though these all seemed to be of a younger age than the girl – no doubt children from within the apartment complex.

Though at times annoying, Brett enjoyed the sound of laughter and young ones playing – it reminded him of his own youth which was not too far in the past and his own memories, not all of which had entirely faded away. He noticed that the girl had a spunky personality. Once, she had spied him watching her and the others playing in the grass. Wearing only a tube top and shorts, she had tripped when another girl accidentally side-swiped her bare foot. She fell and her top came off. When Brett stood up to see if she was alright, she had looked up, covering her chest with one arm, and stuck her tongue out in bratty fashion, causing him to smile and laugh. 

He noted that she seemed to be a leader amongst the other girls and children and they took to her quite well, following her directives in the games they were playing.

He considered going out to play with them, in a paternal way. He liked to think that he had a ‘young mind’, that he could communicate with the younger crowd. But something always held him back.

--

As the late Summer turned into Fall and Fall into Winter, with the weather dipping, Brett saw less and less of the girl and her friends. Besides his running and weightlifting at the local gym, he took up his old hobbies of reading to occupy his time as well as spending more time with family over the holidays and meeting with old friends who had remained in town (all his best high school friends having long moved away to various parts of the country).

There was one memorable occurrence, one evening when he had returned from an errand and was entering into the enclosed stairwell, rounding the corner when she also turned the corner from within, accompanied by one of her friends. What they were doing in his stairwell, he did not know. She ran, hurtling around the corner and right into him, her face bumping into his chest. She seemed surprised and embarrassed as she looked up into his face, the light from the stairwell illuminating her cute cherubic face.

For a couple moments, time stood still. He was unsure how to react and she just stood there. Then, in an instant, she and her friend bolted away and towards her home, half-giggling and half-screaming. He stood there, frozen and stunned, his gaze observing the retreat of the two girls. As her friend got to their door first and entered, the girl took a moment to look back at him. Making eye contact, she winked, then with a loud giggle, closed the door behind her.

*** 

Before long, an unusually warm Spring rolled around and once again, the girl was out and about, wearing very revealing clothing, exposing a lot of her tanned skin, including her midriff, her well-toned legs and, on occasion, the lower portion of her butt cheeks, as she liked to wear one pair of jean shorts which barely covered her buttocks. Quite often, she would also wear revealing tank-tops, leaving her arms bare and showing off the sides of her little boobs.

Brett knew he shouldn’t ogle the now-sixteen-year-old young girl. He was no pedophile. There were barriers he simply wouldn’t cross. Still, the cute girl teasing and occasionally acting flirtatious (winking at him or sticking out her tongue) tugged at his primal urges.

The urges became tougher and tougher to curtail as the summer advanced. It was during one hot summer day that he watched with interest as the girl, along with her mother and some friends, set up a small, cheap blow-up pool big enough to accommodate a few of the kids at a time. They set it up in the grass just off the sidewalk, somewhat closer to his apartment and certainly well within his field of vision.

It wasn’t long before the girls had gone back inside to change into their swimsuits. The girl wore a small 2-piece bikini and he took note of her nice smooth legs and bubble butt. This was the first time he’d seen her unencumbered by other clothing. He also noticed that although she was still rather flat-chested, small bumps had begun to sprout out. The girls took turns jumping into the pool and it soon became a splash-and-giggle fest. The girl and one of her friends noticed his voyeurism and stared up at him a couple times, making eye contact as they posed for him. His eyes were drawn from her eyes to her chest – it was clear that her nipples were hardened during all the excitement and were poking into the threads of her sheer top. This caused him to look away and pretend he was looking elsewhere, which in turn caused the girls to giggle and return to playing.

He went back to what he was doing on his computer. It was on that first time observing her at the pool playing with her friends that he heard some commotion after awhile (as he had the window open and could hear through the screen) and looked down to see the girls screaming and yelling. They were tossing something at each other and each girl moved out of the way as if they were playing a game of hot potato. He thought perhaps they’d come across a big bug and were terrorizing each other. Eventually, the girl put her flip-flops on and stomped hard with her foot on the ‘bug’.

To his horror, the stomping had left quite a bit of bloody gore residue behind. Brett came to realize, after her mother had come out of their house to scold the girls for ‘playing with their food’, that what the girls were playing with was a LUMP shrinky. When the girl took off her flip-flops, he noticed even from his distance how cute her small feet were, with her feminine toes and perfectly smooth tan skin. He loved the way she scrunched and flexed her toes as she held her foot up to inspect it, making sure none of the lump’s guts got on her sole.

Thus ended the life of Kelly Baxter, a young Congressional staffer who had recently ‘disappeared’. The aspiring young blond was working for a U.S. Representative that was vehemently opposed to LUMP Foods and was working diligently to get their sales banned in the U.S. Special LUMP agents had snuck into her home in the middle of the night and shrunk her down as she slept. She had awoken not long after within the confines of a large LUMP food box, not knowing where she was or what had happened to her, but had quickly come to the realization of her ironic and surreal situation, for what good it had done her.

Having watched the stomping of the tiny person, Brett reflected on his own thoughts about LUMP Foods. He’d enjoyed many a LUMPs box over the years, never paying much mind to the individual lumps. He was enthralled when success of the shrinking technology was announced to the public – knowing that the military as well as environmental scientists had initiated their own studies for decades, with their own purposes in mind, of course. LUMP Foods, he felt, was doing a real service for mankind, ridding the world of criminals and losers, basically on the cheap, while making it a fun and profitable business to recoup a portion of their huge technical investment. Good for them, he had thought at the time. Who knew what doors the technology would open and which tangential uses and offshoots could be discovered. In his mind, it was definitely a positive impact on society. However, while he agreed with the capital punishment of death by shrinking and consumption, he didn’t care for the violent act of squishing lumps. He shuddered as he watched the girl pick pieces of gore from the sole of her flip-flop.

--

Over the summer, he saw the girl out and about several times, grunting a hello on occasion. The girl was likewise lacking in verbosity, often not even replying, though she would look up at him. On more than one occasion, she caught him watching her from his office and took a few moments to look up at him. It struck Brett as odd that he never noticed the girl alone with a boy in the roughly year and a half that he’d live in the complex. Sure, on occasion when there was a group playing, one or two boys would invariably join, but she never showed the slightest inclination for any of them. He wondered if she didn’t like boys in a sexual way. She seemed confident enough in herself. Perhaps she thought of him as a fatherly figure. But if that were the case, he found it confusing when he finished his jogging sessions and walked back through the square, often shirtless when it was really hot out, and caught her looking out her window, staring at him.

It was around this time when he noticed the girl’s mother begin to sneer and scowl at him on the rare occasion when he saw her, which caused him some consternation, since he didn’t feel he had done anything to earn the woman’s enmity.  Brett seldom saw the mother about. If she worked, he reckoned, than she must be up at the crack of dawn and return home before her daughter finished school.

On one of his jogging sessions, he was surprised to come across an old acquaintance at his mail drop box next to the stairwell. It was an old family friend, Geno. Geno had refused to retire when he passed 65 and instead had taken on a part-time job as a mail delivery man. He was a man who had connections in town and always seemed to know more than he should about the goings-on in the town. It was one of the reasons his father had liked him.

“You’re keeping in good shape, I see”, Geno said, “And it looks like you’ve got a fan”, he continued, nodding towards the apartment across the way, where the girl stood standing and observing them.

“Um, yeah. Thanks”, Brett replied, accepting the compliment, adding “Speaking of, do you know anything about that girl? She lives there with her mother, I think.”

A shadow passed over Geno’s face, as if he were remembering something. He turned his back to towards the girl and his normally ebullient voice dropped a couple levels. “Her name’s Becca. Becca Watson. She’s a peach, isn’t she? But you’d best keep your distance from that family.”

When Brett pressed him about the ominous warning, Geno wouldn’t go into further detail. He just wished him well and changed the subject, recalling how well Brett played golf and saying that he was still his ‘idol’, an inside joke between he and Geno and his father whereby Geno’s mock worship of their golfing talent was always good for a friendly laugh, neither taking the game too seriously.

--

Things began to linger for Brett and he became content in his extended break from the business world. He decided that his finances could easily survive another year and his mental health could use another year of recuperation.

Time marched on.

It was on one chilly September morning that Brett saw the girl skipping down the sidewalk with her mother. She was so attractive and full of energy – and yet her mother’s looks and mannerisms were rather frumpy, being heavy-set with messy black curly hair and a slightly unkempt look. This gave him pause in regards to the girl’s looks. Wouldn’t she surely grow up to eventually look like her mother?

Of course, he couldn’t realize that the mother was once quite the looker herself and had undergone a deep depression upon her husband’s leaving her and Becca cold turkey when the girl was but 6 years old. Of Hungarian descent, the woman had married into the English surname of Watson. She had put on lots of weight over the next ten years and let herself go. It was with this state of mind that she had reluctantly taken a job as a low-level technician at the local LUMP Foods plant, relinquishing her suspicions and dislike of the company and, over time, her morals as she discovered just how corrupt the company was. And yet, the woman, Francine, was very protective of her daughter especially when it pertained to males. None were allowed in the house and her daughter was not allowed to date. She had considered loosening the hold on her child once the girl turned seventeen and giving her a bit more freedom. But she didn’t like how the young man from across the way looked at her little girl. He was much older than she and was undoubtedly considering Becca as an easy target. Having had her share of bad luck with men, the last thing she needed was to have her teenage daughter get used and abused (and possibly impregnated) by some man that was nearly twice her age.  And yet, she was reluctant to warn the girl off too harshly, for she knew Becca had a rebellious streak that would flare up from time to time. Better to try to scare the man away in her subtle, yet effective, ways.

However, Becca’s burgeoning hormones were just really starting to rev up as she came of age. She was flattered by the attention of the older man next door. She found him strong-looking and attractive and he often smiled at her, though his silence around her was something of a mystery to her. She had overheard him talking with family and an occasional friend he invited over and she liked the man’s vigorous voice and sense of humor, from what she could gather. She had spied his jogging on occasion and thought him very buff. He seemed nothing like the immature boys that hung around her at school. Initially self-conscious about her own looks, her confidence had begun to grow as her bee-stings had grown into half-cups. Her mother assured her she was simply a late bloomer – a comment which made her feel better about herself, seeing as how her mother was well-endowed.

She had asked her mother about the strange young man in the opposite and above apartment; she had inquired about him when she caught him looking at her one day as she played and talked with her friends. That day, she had lingered outside, giving the man the opportunity to come and visit with her had he so chosen. She had hoped he would, but he never did. The mother had suggested she stay clear of the man, that he was bad luck. Of course, when she was told to stay away from the man, her natural inclination was to disobey. She would not abide a loss of freedom in the complex in which she lived. It was bad enough her mother didn’t allow her to date boys from school.

*** 

It was in the following late Spring when ‘IT’ happened.

As luck would have it, Brett was returning from a light jog and was shirtless, wearing no more than his short running shorts, his socks and his running shoes. He was a picture of fitness and his 6-pack abs and toned, but well-muscled torso glistened in a light sweat on the balmy day. He was breathing heavily, cooling down from his run as he walked with his head down on the sidewalk, taking no notice of the staring girl who happened to be sitting on a bench just outside of the doorway into her apartment.

When he was about fifteen feet from her, he was brought out of his daydream. "Woo-wee mister, you sure are handsome" came a high-pitched girlish voice to his right.

He was pleasantly surprised to see it was the girl, Becca, who had complimented him and even more surprised by the forwardness of the teen girl. He looked up and smiled at her, than stammered “um, thanks.” He looked the girl over – something about her was different. A brunette, she had colored her hair a dirty blond, though her dark eyebrows still gave away her natural color. He had liked her hair as it was and this was the first time he’d seen her thus, but he understood that young women liked to change their hair color and styles from time to time, so he gave an inward shrug, thinking it looked ok.

Becca noticed the man eyeing her with a studious face. "Wanna come inside? My mom's away", she proffered with a sly look which belied her youthfulness.

It was a shocking offer, to be sure. He gave her body a quick look-over. She had grown a bit taller in the last several months, giving her a leaner appearance. Her legs and buttocks, formerly a bit jiggly with a very slight paunch to her belly, which was exposed, had disappeared and she was rocking a cute set of abs, though her breasts were still quite smallish. While he had found the ‘baby fat’ attractive, the girl was clearly starting to physically mature. In that moment, he would have liked nothing better than to abandon his own morals, take her into her bedroom and rail her into a fit of silly giggles.  But, he knew that he shouldn’t. The mother would eventually find out and, even if she didn’t press charges, could make things difficult for him. “Ah…no, I better not.”

Becca frowned, "Whatcha afraid of mister. I don't bite. I seen you watchin' me all the time”, she declared, though it was not in anger, just a statement of fact. “Come on”, she gestured towards her door, “I know you wanna." She reached out and gave a playful tug on his shorts, pulling then a couple inches away and, with a smirk, playfully peering over the top before releasing them.

The term ‘instant boner’ was not something Brett believed was possible until that very moment. In a second, he was ‘sprung’, pushing out at that thin fabric of his shorts. Becca noticed, pointing at it and gave a belly laugh as she tried to cover her mouth with her other hand. She looked up into the man’s face, “I see your little man wants to come out and play.”

There could be no denying it. “How old are you?”, he inquired, hoping that her answer would put a stop to this madness.

“Just turned seventeen last week”, Becca answered proudly, adding “got my hair done as a present”, pressing the sides of her hair with both hands to illustrate the point.

Seventeen, Brett thought to himself, seventeen is the age of consent in Illinois. At least she’s of legal age, he quickly worked out. As his barriers melted away, the girl reached out with her hand to grasp his, her other hand on her door and she gave him a look – it was a firmly suggestive look. He recognized it. Against his better judgment, he laughed and nodded, finally giving in, “let’s go.”

--

Letting go of his hand, Becca’s hand grasped onto the end of his erection through his shorts and she led him into the apartment. He did not object in the slightest – her little hand was in complete control of him. He sighed, “so, um, where’s your mom?”

Becca led him into the living room, and gently pushed him to sit on a small ottoman that was next to a coffee table. “She’s in the hospital…some type of bad stomach flu. She’ll be out in a couple days. Want something to drink? I got my special lemonade – made it myself.”

Brett thought the girl a tad flippant about her mother’s situation. Being in the hospital was nothing to gloss over. As his view took in the apartment furnishings, he replied, “Sure.”

Becca smiled and went into the small kitchen. In the meantime, Brett looked around. The apartment was a bit messy, with crude furnishings, and objects scattered on tables, including a bong on the coffee table. A sofa set opposite the coffee table, against the wall. A couple movie posters were on the wall over it. There were cheap stands with knickknacks in the corners of the room, but not much else. Nervously, he bounced his leg up and down on the carpet as he sat and waited for her to return.

“Here you are”, she said, smiling down at him as she hovered over his shoulder and handing out a glass of lemonade for him.

He hadn’t heard her return. Looking down, he saw that she was barefoot, which explained her quiet movement. “Thanks”, he said, taking the small glass from her.

Becca waited for him to take a sip and smiled again after he did so. “Good?”

“Mmmm, yes, thank you”, he replied.

“Cool”, she said, nodding over to the bong, “go ahead and take a hit if you want. I’ll be back in a sec. I’m just gonna change into something more comfortable.” And with that, she whisked away towards her bedroom.

The lemonade did taste good, for what it was worth, but it drew the least of Brett’s attention. He looked over at the bong – he had led a very clean life, never doing drugs of any sort. This would not be the day where he would begin. Hell, it was bad enough that he was considering any of this.

He stood up and walked around a bit while he waited and sipped his lemonade, noticing that the girl’s bedroom door was half-closed. This apartment had a similar layout to his, but was a bit smaller. The living room was only about half the size of his and the two bedrooms sandwiched the lone bathroom between them. The kitchen was rather small and encompassed just enough space for a table without adjoining chairs if one was to get around. Everything seemed very compact. Yes, it was pretty ‘spartan’ living conditions. He had paid additional for the larger living room and kitchen in his own apartment. From his memory, he thought that the bedrooms were about the same size between the two two-bedroom models.

“Mmmm”, he said after taking another swig of the lemonade. It really was refreshing and cool and his skin had cooled off substantially from when he was outside.

--

Having sat back down on the ottoman and facing away from her bedroom door, making an outward attempt to ‘be a gentleman’, he felt rather than heard her presence. Turning, he saw that she stood directly behind him.

“Ta-da”, she said.

He turned fully to view her. She was nearly nude, wearing just a cutoff Playboy t-shirt and matching black panties and knee-high rainbow socks. The boner, which had temporarily wilted in the intervening minutes, made a renewed appearance, bulging up the crotch of his shorts into a tent.  Noticing it, she blew a big bubble and gave him a rocker sign with both hands.  Popping her bubble, she asked “See anything you like?”, an air of breathlessness punctuating the end of her sentence as she lifted an eyebrow seductively.

-- 

While Brett thought she looked hot, it brought Brett back to reality – only the mind of a teenage girl could conjure up this type of outfit, with knee-high socks to boot. It made the age gap jump to the forefront of his mind and his cock wilted.

Becca noticed the immediate drop in energy from the man. “Wh..what’s a matter?”

“Erm, Becca is it?”, to which she nodded, he stood up and continued, “uh…listen, honey, I…look, this isn’t such a good idea-“

“Huh? Is this because your older?”, she asked, defensively. She took a couple steps toward him and put her arms on his.

For some reason, Brett didn’t want to use age as his excuse, even though it perfectly well was. “Uh…look, you’re just not my type”, he lied.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, trying to grasp the truth of his statement. When she saw that his eyes were unmoving, she withdrew with a sob.

Brett didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he was trying to retreat with some form of dignity. He started to walk towards the door when he heard her urgently yell, “Stop! Just hold on a second”. He saw her make a bee-line into her mother’s bedroom.

--

Brett stood in the hallway near the foyer for a few moments. He didn’t want to be a complete prick and rush out the door. Maybe Becca is going to get some memento for me, he considered.

Becca came around the corner from the hall into the bedrooms abruptly. Tears were streaming down her face. She lifted something up and pointed it at his chest.

Brett beheld the object the girl was pointing at him. For a moment, he thought it was a gun, but a quick glance told him it was not. His emotions were a rollercoaster - he saw that it resembled a stun gun – it was snubbed, with a handle, and a square hole at it’s top, and a greenish light seemed to be emanating from within. He looked down at his chest and saw green tracer points flickering over his sternum. He realized too late that she was aiming this…ray gun at him. Ray gun? He had seen this type of device displayed before – it was a type of shrinking device that, besides employees of the LUMP company, only the uber-wealthy could afford, and even then, it’s usages were severely restricted by law when it came to humans and consumption. He never suspected to find one of these devices in the home of a poor family.

“Becca, wait-“, he began, his eyes wide as he became cognizant of her intentions and his arms out and palms out in a mercy pose, before he was struck suddenly by a glaring light, an intense pain shooting through his entire body. A bluish haze began to shroud his body.

His muscles violently cramped up and he wanted to scream, but somehow, he was unable to produce a sound. His mind went blank and he felt like he was falling. And then, as his mind faded out, the pain swiftly disappeared as did the light. And then darkness.

--

Becca watched as the man slowly dwindled down. His shorts dropped away almost immediately and she gasped as his erection popped free, also displaying his exposed and vulnerable-looking scrotum. She had witnessed the process before on a couple occasions when her mother took her with (years ago, when Becca was too sick to go to school and no baby sitter could be found on short notice). The first part of the ray was the stunning effect and she knew once a person was struck with the ray, it would take about twenty seconds for the person to shrink in mass to it’s eventual height.

The man stopped shrinking at roughly just over an inch in height, his eyes glazed over as he stood there, non-blinking. He was bigger than the typical lump, which was commonly between 1cm to ½ inch in size. Becca was a savvy girl in several regards. She had spied her mother putting her ray gun and uniform into the small safe (as was required after each night of work) and had memorized the audio tones of the key lock password her mother used. And over time, she had found out how the shrink ray worked, gathering tidbits of info as she pestered her mom and having seen it in use a couple times. She thought the setting size of one inch would suit the man well.

Of course, Becca didn’t know where her mother kept the small underwear that typically were used to cover LUMP foodstuffs, so the tiny man was completely naked when she wrangled him from his pool of clothing with her foot. She laughed internally – this was the creature she had seriously entertained the idea of losing her virginity to and now he looked rather weak and utterly pathetic. How dare he reject me!, the angry thought thundered through her mind and she frowned. She tapped him with her big toe a few times, but got no response from him. She pressed the ball of her foot on him, not putting her weight on him, but pushing him flatter nonetheless. She remembered back to the day when she had stomped a shrinky flat and the thought played in her mind for a few moments before she slowly eased the pressure off.

Squatting down, she plucked the tiny nude man up with one hand and gathered his affects with her other. He was clearly still under the throws of the shrinking process when she brought him up to her face to inspect, his eyes finally blinking rapidly and his mouth open in a sort of dumb stupor. She giggled at how he looked and felt, taking the time to notice his tiny package which had remained in it’s excited state (as before he was shrunk) and she sniffed him.

Having been removed as a potential love interest to take her virginity, she decided she could use the shrink ray on him as he was what her mother referred to as a 'sexual deviant' and she said society needed to be rid of these types of people. From what her mother told her, it was not uncommon for a LUMP employee to zap one of these deviants down to size to add to their supply of LUMP foodstuffs. She was sure her mother would be pleased when she told her what she'd done to the neighbor from across the sidewalk. She knew her mother never cared for the man.

Taking up a small blanket, she repaired to lounge on the sofa. She would need some minutes with which to decide what to do with the lump. She knew she had plenty of time – it would be some time before it would ‘wake’ up, even though his eyes were open. In the meantime, she set it down on the coffee table, near the bong, her feet on either side of it. That’s an idea, she thought.

-- 

Becca snatched up the bong and took a couple hits in quick succession, then set it back on the table and lay back, relaxing and splaying her legs out. As she thought about the man more and more and how he had rejected her advance, she began to curse the shrinky and make fun of him.

“Who do you think you are, you little perv? Any guy would be lucky to get a piece of this”, she gestured down her body, as if she were displaying herself as a sale item. She was very proud of her bulbous bottom. She continued, “You don’t deserve this.”

She paused for a minute, then took another hit from the bong before continuing. “I should crush you into a bloody pulp. You’re nothing more than a worthless bug to me. You’re so tiny. You’re pathetic.”

The shrunken man stood where she set him, in a transfixed stupor, her berating not generating any response from him. No one, not even her closest friends, with the exception of her mother, knew that there was a dormant dominatrix side to Becca, going back to her early toddler years of playing with dolls. She used to obliterate, mutilate and mangle them, especially the male ones, like her Ken Doll. The closest she came to giving away her sadistic nature was when she wore her skull ring to school.

On the other hand, put into the proper context of food, Becca found the shrunken man’s look and feel and smell delightful. She’d been allowed a  few ‘lumps’ before, when her mother had been gifted leftovers from unfinished boxes, but they’d always been ‘snack-sized’ already by the time she saw them.

With an impish smile, a silly idea formed and took hold in her mind. She popped her gum, smacking her lips on it, then took it out of her mouth. Looking over at the man, she was startled to see that her fluffy Persian cat had jumped onto the coffee table and was approaching the little figure.

“Pickles!”, she shouted, then urgently shooed it away. The cat launched itself backwards, landing on the floor in a disappointed huff and a low growl, than pattered away.

Becca laughed. Then she put the gum back in her mouth, stretching it wide over her tongue. She leaned down over the man.

--

Brett’s eyes were still very blurry as he tried to acclimate himself. He was starting to ‘wake’, the girl’s loud yell at her cat reaching into the very depths of his consciousness. He felt a shadow creep over him. Reflexively, he bent down, cowering with his arms up as he felt first a heavy aura above him and then felt a warm, but tainted and smoky breeze of air flow over him.

He realized what had happened and where he was when his world went dark and he was in the humid and moist confines, a large undulating muscle below. He couldn’t move his arms or legs – they were bound by a strong, very sticky material which smelled like bubblegum to him. Under the thin layer of gum, the girl’s tongue was coarse, reminding him of a cat’s tongue, only huge in comparison. Taste buds studded it, they stood up like tiny goosebumps or pimples against his skin.

Becca had picked up the shrinky with her mouth, moving it onto the center of her tongue and cocooning within her gum and coating it in her saliva.

She pinned it’s tiny arms and legs to it’s sides, then, tilting her head back, she bundled it into her throat and swallowed. The little lump flowed without obtrusion down her smooth neck, her laryngeal prominence bobbing and marking it’s point of no return, and down past and below her breasts into her tummy. “Mmm, my favorite”, she exclaimed as she swallowed, “bubble-yum.”

She realized she didn’t even know the man’s name. In the whole time since she’d first noticed him looking down upon her from his apartment until now, the man had not spoken more than a few hellos and very brief small talk. Unlike the man, she had lived most of her life in the complex. “Welcome to the neighborhood”, she mocked.

After she had eaten the man, Becca reclined further on the sofa and took another hit from the bong. She exhaled a breath of smoke in a long sigh. Her body had undergone some changes in the last couple minutes. Her face was flushed, her crotch damp, and her nipples had gotten as hard as tacks. As the fingers from one hand tweaked the nipple on her left breast, the fingers on her right hand dipped towards her crotch, she was feeling particularly kinky. The act of consuming someone that she herself had shrunk down, she found to be a delicious turn-on. She had found the experience extremely erotic and a carnal lust crept into her consciousness. Perhaps she might coerce other boys, those she deemed naughty like the man she’d just eaten, to come back to her apartment. A couple schoolmates came to mind immediately. A fit of the giggles hit her and warred with her feelings of lust. She felt a fluttering in her belly as the little man had just gotten free of his sticky bindings and began to move about. Becca was about to experience her first voregasm.

Two days later

“Hey Snirt”, said Becca’s mother, Francine, when she arrived home two days later, setting her purse down on the counter. The nickname was a twist on the name Squirt, for, like her mother, Becca was known to snort her share of cocaine from time to time, when her mother could confiscate a sampling of it on a drug bust operation (after shrinking down the dealers, of course). “Anything eventful happen while I was gone?”

“Nope. Not really”, Becca responded, not looking up from her Vogue magazine. She had discharged the waste from the unexpected snack from her system the previous evening, though some residue of him remained within her system, converted to a tiny amount of nutrients which had spread to the fatty tissue on her developing love handles as well as a bit to her budding breasts.

She decided she would get around to telling her about the shrunken man a little later. More important things demanded her attention just then.

The End