Y'know how, in all the movies, when they have a close brush woth death (whether they actually die or not) they always say "my life flashed before my eyes"?

You'd better believe it.

Now, if I dropped you into my current situation just like that, you'd be confused as all hell. So, I'll backpedal, to a couple days ago.

Wait, wait, wait. I'm already getting ahead of myself. You don't even know who I am yet.

My name is Mary, but some people call me Little. Yes, the capital L is necessary. I have a nice California tan (despite not living there anymore- long story), waist-length black hair, and blue eyes. What else . . . oh, right- I'm three inches tall. If what I'm told is right, that's permanent. In my head, though, I'm 5'9", and it's just everything else that's gigantic, but my warped perspective isn't exactly gonna make this story any asier to tell. Clarity always comes with hindsight- that's a Jennifer maxim.

Jennifer is my best friend (technically Big's- more on her later), and just about the nicest person you could ever imagine. She actually killed her own future (she had dreams of being an architect, an artist, or a gymnast- and she's capable of all three) because it would have snapped Big's fragile ego. Which is also tehnically my fragile ego. It's complicated. Jennifer is 4'9", with this pale skin that never burns or tans, this short brown hair that frames her face and somehow makes it prettier, and these expressive green eyes. I say expressive because they actually kinda change color- gray-green when she's bored, blue-green when she's depressed, anxious, or scared, hazel when she's pissed off (rarely happens), and a shade of green so vivid you'd swear she has emeralds in her head when she's really happy or excited. Oh, yeah- she also came out as a lesbian with a crush on Big/me not too long ago.

Now, to stop boring you (don't deny it, you're bored), I'll get on with it- to the day all this crap really started tohit the fan.

The day my box was opened.

---------------------------

When they say getting a Construct made makes you sore, they are't kidding, I thought as I sat up groggily. My everything hurt.

Once my vision stopped spinning, I began to notice some things that were out of place. First thing I noticed was that, instead of a gray plastic examination table, I was laying on black . . . foam . . . stuff. (I'm not so good with words, okay?) Secondly (and this took longer for me to notice than it should have), I noticed that I was naked, instead of in the hospital gown I'd been provided with.

Then, of course, I looked up. What I saw blew my mind- the smiling face of Jennifer, high above me, and absolutely huge.

It didn't take me very long to figure out what was what- I was the Construct I had ordered for Jennifer's birthday, and the bigger version of myself (I decided then and there to refer to her as Big) had decided to save sixty-five cents by using shrink-postage.

[Now, you're probably asking me why I decided to get a girl a copy of myself for her birthday. I know, it sounds like a major ego trip, and that was partly what it was. One of the biggest reasons, though, was that I'd been raised strict Catholic (as in, we actually went to Mass and gave stuff up for Lent and all that), and while I'd bucked most of the doctrine, I still couldn't see myself as being the one to make Jennifer happy that way. At least, not the main version of me. Another big part was that the girl had had three shit birthdays in a row: she spent her 24th birthday in the hospital after saving me from an accident with a car, her mom died the morning of her 25th, and when we sent her out to do errands at a strip mall to throw her a surprise party on her 26th, her car got messed with while she was inside- slashed tires, keyed doors, siphoned gas, the whole nine. Poor girl didn't get home until after everyone had left, the ice cream had melted, and some jerk ate half the cake. The last major part was, well, despite my ingrained knee-jerk bad reaction to homosexuality, I wanted to know what I had missed by not experimenting in college- and I figured I could get a copy of myself to tape her and Jennifer going at it.]

Am I really that cheap? was my thought at the time, and I have discovered, through hindsight, that I was.

"Holy . . . whoa. Thanks, Mary, I owe you!" Jennifer said, her voice amplified at my size.

"Don't mention it," Big replied from somewhere I couldn't see. By the sound of her voice, I could tell she'd had a few, which meant that the party was already almost over.

At this point, I was looking around my box and flipping over black packing peanuts in a desperate attempt to find the little blue vial that they send with shrunk packages, to get them back to normal size. I grew frustrated quickly. "HEY!" I yelled. "Where's the blue bottle?!"

Jennifer was concerned immediately. "That's a really good question." Her fingers reached down at me, and I'll admit that, had I had any liquid in my system, I would've wet myself. Thank God for small mercies, huh?

Now, again in hindsight, Jennifer was ridiculously gentle in handling me, to the point where she would probably grip the stem of a flower with more force. Still, seeing a girl that (in your mind) you used to smother between your breasts to shut her up ( . . . And now I understand why she likes me so much.) at about twenty times your size is a disorienting and scary experience.

So, naturally, I screamed my fuckin' head off.

Jennifer's reaction was immediate- I swear before everything I love that she flinched. The color of her eyes changed, she rotated her hand to leave me sitting in her palm, and she started tearing up. "i'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Where does it hurt? Can I do anything to fix it? Please be okay, Little Mary, please be okay-"

Big had gotten up and moved over faster than I could register, and smacked Jennifer across the face, hard. You would've been able to lift fingerprints from that slap- I know because I saw them. In that moment, Jennifer shut up quickly- too quickly. I was reminded of a domestic abuse video I had had to watch for a school project, with the obedient little wife immediately making that exact same expression before turning around and making the deadbeat husband some dinner- after, of course, the obligatory putting-out-a-cigar-on-people thing that apparently all abusive spouses do.

This was my first good look at myself huge, and I have to say now that I have a very good reason for being proud of my bust size. One of Big's massive mammaries could've suffocated me. It was also at that point that I realized that, subconsciously, I had apparently known about Jennifer being into me, because I put on something revealing whenever there was anything I wanted from her- and there was apparently something Big wanted from Jennifer. The dress she was wearing was very low-cut at the top, absurdly high in the skirt, and so tight in between that there wasn't much left to imagine.

Come to think of it, I had never owned a dress like that, meaning Big had bought it since ordering me, which probably meant it had been purchased just for Jennifer's birthday. I may have to ask Big about it if I survive this fresh hell I'm being put through.

"She's not hurt, Jen. She's just trying to play on your emotions. You're bigger than her. Use that to keep her in line if you have to." Big's words chilled me to the bone. I sincerely wondered when I had become such a bitch- and whether Jennifer would take Big's advice.

I had a legitimate reason to be scared now.

Big then kissed Jennifer on top of the head. "Well, I've gotta get home. Toodles!" Big walked out the door, almost forgetting her purse on the way out.

I looked up at Jennifer's face. Her pupils wer dilated, and her cheeks were flushed. She was drunk, horny, or both- and none of those was a good thing for me.

Surprisingly, however, she simply raised her open palm slightly closer to her face. "You weren't just . . . playing with my emotions, were you?" Her warm breath washed over me lke a wave, and I couldn't smell alcohol. That, at least, was a good sign.

My mouth went dry, but I felt a little . . . good. It took me a second to realize why. Shit, shit, shit, she's been eating cherries. Either she figured out my secret, or I just have really bad luck.

"N- no," I stammered, watching her gaze wander about my nude body. "You- you aren't gonna leave me small, are you, Jennifer? I- I- I'm scared."

Jennifer smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. But, to make up for freaking me out like that, I want to know something."

I chuckled nervously, and ran a hand through my hair. "What do you wanna know?" I was increasingly aware that, as a Construct, I was Jennifer's property for all legal intents. If she was a closet sadist, I was hopelessly screwed.

Jennifer raised me closer to her face, which had the unfortunate side effect of flooding my nostrils with the scent of cherries. I squirmed. "Anything to, you know . . . better my chances. You know everything Normal Mary knows, so maybe you can help me out. Fantasies, little turn-ons, even letting me know anything you find wrong with me could-"

"Cherries!" To this day I don't know why I said it. "The taste, the smell of cherries . . . it drives me wild!" I think her cherry-laden breath addled my brains or something.

She raised me even closer to her face, with astonishing rapidity. "Really?"

I gave up on holding back- I moaned. I turned around to maybe stifle myself, but through some luck I had clambered onto her middle finger, which she had skinned somehow- leaving a jutting bit of skin poking at my groin.

"Huh?" Jennifer was confused, and what she did next pretty much set the tone for how things would continue- she raised her hand, with me still on her middle finger, to her mouth, and tested her breath.

These two bursts tore away at the last of my willpower, and I threw myself at the digit I clung to. I treated that finger like it was a lover I hadn't seen in years, and I'm ashamed to say that I gave the middle finger of Jennifer's right hand everything I had, up to and including passionate kisses, full gyrating hip motions, and whispered compliments to how great in bed it was. Not exactly my finest hour.

I don't really remember much, but when my memories resumed, I was lying on top of the finger I'd just fucked, and my cheeks birned with shame. I flipped back around to face Jennifer, and she looked quite happy. She rolled me into her left hand, and licked her middle finger clean. 

She smiled down at me. "Cherries. I'll have to remember that." Her now clean right hadnd picked through my box, eventually turning it upside-down, but no blue vial appeared. "Uh-oh," she said uneasily.

Uh-oh was fuckin' right.

Jennifer lifted me slightly higher and put me down on a small table. Then, she stood up.

If I had been intimidated by her size before, I was fucking terrified of it now.

Luckily for me, Jennifer was only standing for a second, because she went to all fours to look for the blue vial that would make me bigger than her, as I ought to be.

As you can probably tell, she was unsuccessful, and after having come down from the orgasm earlier, I was seriously scared.

"Where could it be? I don't get it! Where's the damned reconstitution serum?" I asked, panicky.

"I don't know!" Jennifer replied, frustrated. "They must have forgotten to put one in!"

This kinda sent me over the edge. "No! No! They couldn't have! If this doesn't get reversed as soon as possible, it becomes fucking permanent! I don't wanna be a fucking bug person!" I began pacing around, distraught.

Jennifer moved over to me, looming far over my head even while kneeling. "It's okay, Mary . . . it's okay . . ." she cupped her had behind me and gave me a pseudo-hug. "I'll protect you from anything that might hurt you. I mean, I'm your best friend, right?"

It felt . . . really good to be hugged like that, I'm not gonna deny it. Of course, it only took a little bit of time to figure out why it had calmed me down so quickly- the chemical imprinting process they set up in Constructs was done. As long as Jennifer wasn't the reason I was freaking out, physical contact with her would calm me down immediately.

I didn't like this one bit, and for what I admit in hindsight is a really stupid reason- it meant that my body had accepted Jennifer as my owner. Having grown up in Californnia, this put connotations of slavery in my head, but at that point, if Jennifer really wanted to, I could have been a pet in a cage.

I pushed back at Jennifer's breasts, each of which was taller than I was. "You mean you're my owner. Don't deny it- I'm a Construct, I know that, you are allowed to do whatever the hell you want, by law. You're just being nice now so that you can fool me into doing something later, aren't you?" It was at that point that I realized what an idiot I was being, and I was scared all over again. "A- and now that I've told you off, you'll eat me, or, or step on me, or sh-shove me inside your . . ." I shut up because I thought I might've been giving her ideas, and looked up/

Jennifer, to my surprise, was distraught, and quite close to tears. "Is that . . . is that really how you think of me?" She sniffed, trying to hold back the oncoming crying. "You really think I'm just some manipulative bitch trying to get some? I have been following you for going on seventeen years now, desperately hoping you'd notice how much I love you!I shaped every bit of my life around making you happy! I died a litle inside every time you had me help you get ready for a date, and I'll admit I got a bit of hope every time you called me to help you get over a breakup! I know I've made quite a few obvious moves over the years, because a bunch of other people figured it out a long time ago- some of your boyfriends, the cashiers you're friends with at work, even Sarah!"

I froze. Sarah was my younger sister, who was prone to ridiculous amounts of jealousy- anything I had, she wanted, too. I had no idea how she would've reacted to knowing I had had a girl in love with me, "She didn't . . . hurt you, did she?"

Jennifer looked confused, and wiped the tears away from her face. "What? No . . . I thought she would've reacted all crazy, demanding I go after her, too, but she just kinda told me, 'Hey. I know you have a crush on my sister,' and left. She acted a little funny around me after that- I think she grabbed my ass a few times- but that's about it."

I thought it over. "You don't think . . ."

Jennifer shrugged it off. "Nah. I don't exactly have a bunch of people beating down my door. It's been pretty easy staying pure for you, Mary."

I laughed at that. "What are you talking about? Almost every boyfriend I ever had, I caught off your rebound- wait. What was that about staying pure for me?"

Jennifer realized she had said too much, and hung her head. "You know how you have this big phobia about getting an STD?"

I gasped. "You can't seriously be telling me you've stayed a virgin for me."

Jennifer blushed mightily. "You- you don't have to go  making a big deal about it."

I shook my head. "But it is a big deal! You got through all those trips to bars, all those crazy parties in college, and never once-"

She shook her head quickly. "I'm a virgin, yeah. Please stop making a fuss about it, or I'll feel like you're making fun of me."

I thought it over. Jennifer had given up on so much just to be what she thought I had wanted that it wasn't even funny- had it not been for me, she'd probably have a great career instead of an assistant manager's job at some hole-in-the-wall retail store and she'd probably have some beautiful girlfriend by now, yet here she was pining after someone who had taken her desperate, passionate confession of love and said (I'll quote myself) "Maybe if things don't work out with this next guy I date". I hadn't even had the guts to reject her right so that she could move on.

"I won't make fun of you," I said with finality. "Why you think I deserve you, I'll never know." This was probably more of the chemical imprinting solution talking, but I meant it.

Jennifer smiled at that. "Mary, I've spent a good three quarters of my life trying to become good enough for you, and now apparently I'm out of your league? I think you're just making up excuses, now."

I laughed. "Believe me, had I noticed sooner, you might've gotten more than a few stares your way." I stopped. "Hey, quick question- technically, you do own me, and I don't believe I can keep a secret for a whole month, so . . . you probably already have an idea of what you want to do with me, don't you?"

Jennifer blushed again. "Er, let's not go into that. I . . . had a bit of a dream on the subject." She took the time I was using to form a response as a bailout. "I'll just put on some TV."

There was some war movie on, the kind I had become used to seeing out of the corner of my eye on dates to the movies- it's really the only kind I can be distracted from long enough to do the kissing in the dark that most people go on those dates for, anyway. Jennifer left it on, either because she thought I'd actually been watching on my dates, or as a subtle hint. I still don't know which.

I was actually getting really into it, because there were just so many emotional stories. I teared up a bit at hearing one of the older soldiers say that he planned to retire so he could see his wife and family more often,  but Jennifer did something unexpected- she laughed.

"Yup, he's gonna die, I'm calling it now,"  Jennifer said.

I was confused. "What makes you so sure?"

Jennifer's face softened, in an expression I'd seen more than once on teachers trying to explain something they had just realized someone wasn't getting. "Have you ever heard of a trope called 'Retirony'? Anyone who says they're going to retire in the movie won't be able to, probably beacuse they die."

I scoffed at that. "What? No. These Hollywood people would never be predictable like that."

Sure enough, she was right. Didn't take too long, either.

"Okay,  you got lucky," I stated, refusing to give ground. "Or you might've seen this one before. But you won't be able to do something like that with a movie you've never seen before."

Jennifer's eyes narrowed and her smile spread, in complete 'it's on' fashion. "You wanna bet?"

I grinned confidently. "All right. You mess up with your prediction, prophet, and I get to do whatever I want with you- no saying no." Truth be told, I planned on having her drink some warm milk and going off to sleep- the fact that she had been drinking from a wineglass bigger than me was scaring me a little.

Jennifer's smile grew to Cheshire-cat proportions. "And the same deal to you if I succeed."

I shook for a second, but retained my ground. "Deal."

She put the remote next to me. "Decide, O Mighty Decider," she chuckled.

I had to stand on a button to push it, but it wasn't all that hard. I was glad at this point that Jennifer was so tidy, as the buttons would've been near-impossible to press for me if they were sticky. I decided to go searching through the movie channels, and came across a romance/action flick. I picked it.

Before I could even sit down, Jennifer grinned at me, flushed with alcohol and probably her intentions. "Our guy will get his girl, take down the bad guy, and somehow suffer damage to his clothes along the way."

Yeah, needless to say, I walked right into that one. I spent most of the movie hoping for a twist ending that never came. All the while, Jennifer would occasionally mess with me with comments like "I wonder what you taste like" and "I'm havin' me some fun tonight".

The moment the credits began to roll, Jennifer picked me up. She tilted her head back and lowered me towards her parted lips, and I can say with all honesty that the heady scent of alcohol on her breath made me fear for my life.

Then, something unexpected happened- she rested me on her upper lip, my legs in her mouth, my front facing the expanse of her body, my back getting a chilly breeze as she breathed through her nose.

Before I could ask what was going on, I felt it- her tongue creeping up between my legs, sinuously sliding between them like a massive snake. I shivered. It slid higher and higher, brushing past every part of my body, slowly closing in on my face.

Now, at this point, I should have been really, really scared- but I wasn't. The moment that thing brushed past my crotch, I knew pretty much exactly what she was after, and I didn't mind it all that much. In fact, I found it really really hot.

Another thing I feel I have to mention- every girl has her horror stories of a guy going off way too early. If I'm being honest here, I'm admitting that I had just become one of those stories- but Jennifer wasn't letting me stop at one.

Her tongue stopped just short of my eyes, and began to slide and twitch, every fingerlike tastebud grazing my body. It would pulse forward, surging me with pleasure, before gliding back and tempting me to go just as mad with it as I had with Jennifer's finger earlier. The closer I got to my third of the night, the longer her tongue would remain just out of contact, leaving me whimpering with desire.

Eventually, I just couldn't stand it anymore, and I grabbed onto the massive, dripping muscle, and I was rewarded with it spasming and flicking around, trying to get me off (both meanings of that phrase work in that situation, truth be told).

As I cooled down, Jennifer put me back in her hand. "Playing with my tongue probably wasn't as good as sleeping with your boyfriend, but sometimes I like to think I'm good with my tongue, y'know?"

I mumbled deliriously- could I have been understood at that point, Jennifer would've heard that her tongue was better than any of my boyfriends had ever been.

If only it could've been like that forever.

I fell asleep not too long after that experience.

The dreams were unusual for me, in that they were mostly just memories centered around my family.

First to come up was my dad. He's a heavyset Irishman, and he just loved people. I inherited most of my looks from his side of the family, but I have my mother's raven-black hair instead of the wavy red that takes up so many of his old photos of family. I also don't have the slow metabolism that turned him from the strong, thin, and roguishly handsome man in his old high school photos to the 225 pound grizzly I knew for most of my childhood. According to him, "Ye dodged a genetic bullet there, Mary". Despite having grown up in America (or so he claims), he has a pretty heavy accent- so heavy, in fact, that I picked up a little of it (You can't really tell, though, unless I force it or get drunk off my ass). He works as a waiter at Edgar's, a minor comedy club/restaurant with a liquor license. Sometimes, though, when there's no comedian, the band will get him onstage to play the drums or, late at night, the big grand piano in the back. According to him, "Once it gets late enough to bring out the piano, all they wanna hear is 'Piano Man'. I've played the song so many times on request I'm kinda sick of it." And, every time he told me this, I'd try to imagine his deep, accented, smoking-frazzled voice trying to sing a Billy Joel song and laugh.

Now, while he drank, this wasn't actually a major problem- he is actually a really happy drunk, "more the kind to buy you a round than knock you around," as he put it. In fact, I've only ever seen him hit someone once, and he was totally sober.

When I was sixteen, I brought home an older guy who Jennifer warned me was a little shady. Surely enough, he tried to rape me. Now, seventeen-year-old guy forcing himself on your average sixteen-year-old girl? He's gonna get what he wants- at least, until she screams and brings out her big, angry dad, her royally-pissed tae kwon do red-belt best friend, and her butcher-knife-wielding, absolutely infuriated mother  As Jennifer told me afterward, "You know your pretty boy boyfriend? Now he's zero for three."

Then my mind went to Sarah. Whereas I mostly got my dad's looks, except for hair color and a sweet tan, Sarah took after our mom in appearance- deep Latin tan, sharp green eyes, hips to make a dancer jealous- except hair color: she was a redhead just like Dad. She also got lucky enough to stay pretty thin, much to the amazement of Mom and Dad. She had this major complex about letting me get ahead of her in any way, despite me being a little over a year older than her. I got a bike? Sarah wanted one. Dad finally let me have a cell phone? Sarah demanded one.

One way I kinda had to acknowledge her as my equal is that she was really well-liked by the guys. "Everyone wants a Dulhallan sister" became a little phrase that floated around our high school. I was first forced to acknowledge this when she was allowed to date, in the summer after her freshman year.

Jennifer, Sarah, and I were invited to a really sweet pool party, and we heard that news most high schoolers sit with their ear to the ground waiting for- 'parents will be out of town'. When we got there, it was clear that we were attracting quite a few stares (am I a bad person for having assumed it was mostly me at first?), especially once the bathing suits came out. I had tried to be slick and swim up behind a guy I had the hots for at the time, but his eyes were glued to Sarah. For the first time, I was jealous of my little sister. So jealous, in fact, that I had apparently forgotten how to swim, and almost drowned. Pretty much everyone panicked, but Jennifer came to my rescue, saving me with CPR. 

In hindsight, before that first night as a Construct, that time Jennifer performed CPR on me to save my life was the closest she ever got to anything sexual with me- she locked her lips around mine (had she added that tongue, maybe I would've started crushing on her), her hands were between my breasts . . . which is making me think that may be why she learned CPR. Of course, as real medical people will tell you, CPR isn't as clean as the movies make it out to be, and I kinda threw up a little in Jennifer's mouth. Yeah, not exactly the romantic super-technique it's made out to be.

My mind then went to my mom. Straight raven hair, green eyes, one of the darkest skin tones you will ever see in California, and she was where Sarah got her hips from. Admittedly, my mom is just as heavyset as my dad, but you could tell what she came from a little easier. She was really easily angered, and she tended to start this screechy yelling whenever she was mad, so you could often hear screechy yelling almost every time you walked too close to the house. She was a bit of a drunk, like Dad (if anything, she would get drunk more often, if you can believe it), but Mom was the angry drunk. If you saw the bruises on mine or Sarah's arms, I'll forgive you for assuming my dad caused 'em, but they were almost always Mom.

For all her faults, though, it was Mom who introduced me to Jennifer. She needed to make sure someone took care of me, and since Jennifer's mom was stay-at-home, with a daughter around my age (Jennifer's only two weeks older, if you can believe it), so my mom basically left me over at Jennifer's place for hours on end while she worked as a secretary. Every so often since, Mom tried to make up for it by showing me all the good associating with Jennifer did me. "That girl's smart, mija. She knows what she's doing, and she's kept you safe when I couldn't," Mom would always say. "Listen to her when your Dad and I aren't around."

Then, remembering just how homophobic my mother was, I pictured her freaking out if I told her that Jennifer was a lesbian. I imagined her just sort of materializing behind Jennifer, some kind of blunt object in hand, saying "how dare you" or something.

It was because of that image I woke up. My mother probably could seriously hurt Jennifer, and would if she found out about Jennifer's crush.

I found myself lying on a pillow, with a piece of red silk draped over me. I freaked out at first, but it turned out to just be a red silk handkerchief. I looked around in the dark, and saw Jennifer. As I had told her once that "adults sleep naked", she had no clothes on, I could tell that much through the blanket. She was absolutely stunning, as I often got jealous at her for, and was sleeping soundly and nearly silently.

At first, I questioned why I had woken up at the ungodly hour of 3 AM, but I remembered something from when I ordered a Construct- "A Construct, unless otherwise ordered, can only sleep for up to four hours at a time. Take special care to leave something for it to do when it wakes up."

I sat and thought for a little while. It took me a while, but I had an idea.

I was going to get in some more action with Jennifer's tongue.

It wasn't exactly my brightest idea, in hindsight, but, well . . . I was a bit of a horn dog that night. Morning. What the hell do you consider 3 AM?

Anyway, right as I was wondering how I was going to get up to Jennifer's mouth, she shifted slightly in her sleep, sending the slick silk blanket sliding away. Jennifer's torso was now cleared for landing.

I took a running start, and leaped from the fluffy pillow to the smooth, soft surface of Jennifer's chest. Specifically, I landed in the place that I think they call the "solar plexus". Why in hell it has that name, I don't know, but hey.

So, naturally, I headed north. I have to tell you, the feeling of walking on the place where Jennifer's rib cage held together was . . . weird. It was soft and had give, like a trampoline, but it had a hardness beneath it, like concrete. Really, really weird.

Once I got to them, the fact that Jennifer's breasts reached my eyeline was . . . disconcerting. Even without having hardened yet, Jennifer's nips were perfectly level with my head.

Unexpectedly, Jennifer moved, and I hit the proverbial dirt. I had to rush to think of some excuse as to why I was between her boobs- then I didn't have to.

Jennifer crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts together, and mashing me between them.

I'm gonna let you in on something. The moment you're trapped, you start to struggle to get free any way you can. When the thing trapping you is soft and pliant, struggling doesn't really help all that much. When the thing trapping you is a pair of breasts, struggling is quite possibly one of the worst things you can do, as it has a really high chance of getting the owner of those breasts off.

Luckily for me, however, Jennifer wasn't in that dazed half-sleep where if something starts to get you off you grab whatever you can to satisfy yourself. She was fully asleep, so she uncrossed her arms and mumbled something.

Yeah, Jennifer talks in her sleep sometimes. I've never understood how that works.

Anyway, I started going back to what I was originally after- getting at Jennifer's tongue. I got to the base of her throat before I came across a problem.

There was no way I'd be able to climb Jennifer's chin. I am just not that developed where upper-body strength is concerned.

I went for her pillow beside her chin instead, and climbed that up to her ear.

Speaking of, if any other Constructs who were kept small are reading this, the human ear is a lot easier to climb than it looks. Ear wax is meant to trap, not for sliding. As such, it's disgusting, but it helps more than it hurts.

Anyway, after wiping my hands and feet on Jennifer's cheek, I walked over to her open mouth. That was the first time I realized a serious, gaping hole in my plan: there was no way in hell I could get Jennifer's tongue to come out of her mouth.

Had I been thinking clearly, I would have stopped right there. However, I was dead set on Jennifer's tongue, so, like an idiot, I climbed into Jennifer's mouth.

I slowly lowered myself in, feeling Jennifer's warm breath wash over me. The slight scent of mint from her toothpaste still barely hung on her breath, but it was mostly odorless. I felt Jennifer's tongue on the front of my legs, and I got excited- so excited that I made a mistake.

I slipped.

My elbows were the only things keeping me from falling into Jennifer's mouth, and without her being conscious, I was terrified that she'd swallow me the moment I hit the back of her throat. I tried to pull myself up, but (as I told you before) I simply didn't have the strength.

It was scary enough as it was, but I was slowly sliding because of the saliva in Jennifer's mouth. I extended my arms to brace myself, but there didn't seem to be anything I could do. I gave a small cry as I fell.

I was saved by Jennifer's bad gag reflex. Instead of swallowing me, she coughed me into her hand. I looked into her bleary eyes.

"Wha' were you doin' in my mouth?" she asked, still coughing a little.

I felt she would seriously punish me if I told her what actually happened, so I came up with a lie on the spot. I feel bad for it even now- maybe what I'm going through now is karma finally catching up.

"I tried to get cozy under your blankets, and then you tried to eat me in your sleep," I said, having an easy time faking being freaked out.

She looked shocked. "You- I- what? N- no . . .," she stammered, stunned and starting to tear up. "I couldn't . . . I wouldn't . . . eat you . . . you know that, right, Mary?" She was barely holding back from crying.

I nodded. "You'd never hurt me intentionally, but you're so much . . . bigger than me. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't notice I was somewhere, and, y'know . . ." I hit my fist against my palm. "Splat."

Jennifer looked absolutely horrified. "No, no, no splat! I'm going to be really careful from now on, okay? Until I can get you to your normal size, I'm going to be really, really delicate. But . . ." she began to bite her lip, and trailed off.

"But?" I asked, a little worried.

She held her hands in front of her, trying to ease me into a subject she knew I wouldn't like. "Well, we can't have repeats of tonight, so I'm gonna need to have you sleep somewhere out of my reach, somewhere you can't easily make your way over to me, and, overall, somewhere safe."

"L- like where?" I stammered, already regretting my lie, but still unwilling to back out of it.

Jennifer knit her eyebrows. "Well, you won't like it, but . . . one of my drawers would be your best bet."

I sighed inwardly, glad she wasn't suggesting I stay in some box or something. "Which one?"

Jennifer shrugged. "My shirt or underwear drawers would probably be the most comfortable."

I realized that fate had given me a chance to show Jennifer I trusted her, and I took it. "Your underwear drawer sounds cozy, and I really like the feel of silk."

Jennifer blushed. "How . . . how did you know I wear silk underwear?"

I laughed. "I've known  you since we were both in diapers. We've gone every birthday getting a gift for each other. Even if I had your tastes totally wrong, there's always that little number I got for you two years ago."

Jennifer smiled. "I hang that up. There's no one who I could wear it for who'd want to see it, but I can't get rid of it."

I feigned surprise- I'd actually discovered it in her closet before she came out to me. "Of course your girlfriend would want to see it."

Jennifer lit up. "You think I have a chance?"

I nodded. "You can either make me big, or wait for Big to break it off with Steven. The relationship's dying at this point, anyway."

Jennifer grinned. "Is it wrong of me to want to do both?"

I chuckled. "Threesomes with identical girls are the pinnacle of every straight guy's and lesbian's sexual career. I'd be offended if you didn't want it a little."

Jennifer smiled softly, then let out a massive yawn. "Welp, I need four more hours- I have things to do tomorrow." She carried me over to her underwear drawer, opened it, and set me down inside it softly. I curled up under a bra. "G'night," she said as she walked back to bed.

I smiled. Today went well.

As I came to, I heard the distant sound of running water. The drawer was open, so I could see up into some of  Jennifer's room.

I sighed. "She still showers every morning. I keep telling her that she doesn't need to keep it up, but always with the showering."

"What was that?" Jennifer said, drying her hair and looking in on me with a grin. "In case you hadn't noticed, you are gonna have to be in close contact with me <i>a lot</i>. You just might want me to keep up my routine. Unless you have a secret thing for body odor you never told me about?"

"Eurgh," I shuddered. "God, no. Proceed," I added with a arm wave.

She grinned wider. "Thought not." Her grin reversed itself into a small frown. "Alright, this is gonna be a little awkward. I'm, uh, going to the gym, and the landlord still hasn't fixed my lock. So I'm gonna have to ake you with me."

"So?" I questioned. "You put me in your purse, what's so awkward about that?"

"Um . . ." she trailed off, blushing. "Well . . ."

"Ugh," I grunted in annoyance, "spit it out, Jenny!"

"I can't leave you in my purse, because my gym makes it so you have to leave stuff like that in litle lockers, and I don't wanna leave you alone in the dark, especially because someone's been breaking into the rent-a-lockers and stealing people's stuff, and I don't want you to get stolen. So you're going in my clothes, but I can't leave you in my shoe, that's not safe, my workout clothes don't have any pockets . . ." She talked a mile a minute, and I could barely keep up with all of it.

"Then where am I going?" I asked, exasperated.

"I was thinking my bra?" she asked, wincing, trying desperately to not sound like she liked the idea (which I knew she did).

"Jennifer," I spoke slowly, "I'm a Construct, okay? I'm your property. You don't need to ask my permission. I'd like a bit of warning, but I know you're going to be gentle with me, and I know you'd never intentionally put me in a situation I wouldn't be okay with. I trust you."

Take the fact that I had accepted this so easily how you will.

"O-okay," she stammered, still a little hesitant. She reached past me to grab herself some underwear, and slipped them on below my line of sight. Then she grabbed a sports bra from behind me, and put it over her chest without clasping it. "Here I go."

She held out her hand for me to climb into- none of the drunken (or, considering the utter lack of a hangover, mildly buzzed) confidence left, not even to just grab me. I stpped into her palm, running my feet over the light calluses. Rough, but not abrasive. I gave her a thumbs-up.

She raised her hand to her chest, and slowly tilted her hand so I could step off and grab her breasts, slipping between them just enough that I'd pretty much stay put. She quickly did the clasp, pressing me between the mammary mounds I had to fight to remind myself were supposed to be <i>smaller than mine</i>.

"Hmm . . ." she murmured mischievously- a bit of a bad sign. Normally, this was where she'd do something that called her sexuality into question (or, in hindsight, put it closer to the surface). However, considering how small I was in comparison to her, the vast majority of things that this little sound could mean would wind up being compromising at the very least.

Before I could question it, she used a single finger to trap me in her cleavage, with only my head sticking up. "Sorry," she said in a tone that blatantly told me she was not sorry in the slightest, "but I can't have people questioning you sticking up."

She coninued to get dressed and otherwise ready, her tanktop giving me very little in the way of a view on the world. She hummed a merry tune, and quickly got into her car.

I sat there, miffed, for the entire car ride. The fact that she was singing along to "Under My Thumb" didn't help in the slightest.

Once we got to her favorite Olympian gym, however, I got a sneaky sort of idea on how to get her back for leaving me stuck like this. She left her purse and change of clothes inside a locker, and spoke to one of the trainers to get access to the members-only second floor.

"Hey, Jennifer! You're in a little late this week!" the woman admonished jokingly, wagging a finger at my new owner as if scolding a child.

Jennifer mock gasped. "I can't even arrive three minutes off of my usual schedule without getting noticed?"

"Nuh-uh," the trainer said, shaking her head. "And so, to make up for it, you'll have to do an extra ten minutes on the treadmill, high speed."

"W-wait," Jennifer stuttered, taken aback, "can't I get a little leniency here? My birthday was yesterday and-"

"Well, that changes everything," the other woman chuckled, enjoying having tricked Jennifer. "As a birthday present to you, I reserved one of the clean mats. No smelling someone else's sweat while you do your situps."

"Thanks, Lauren! One of these days, I'm going to find out when your birthday is, to pay you back big for all these favors you've done me," Jennifer said, going in for a quick hug.

I made my move, stuggling and squirming in the sensitive flesh, trying to get Jennifer to have to backpedal. She's just so funny when she tries to explain something.

Sure as sure is, Jennifer let out a gasp. However, apparently I had not taken a specific thing into account.

"There," Lauren said, grinning like an idiot. "That covers some of it, I think."

I craned my neck to look up at Jennifer's face. "D-d-did you just-" she stammered, blushing furiously.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lauren nod. "Uh, yeah. I grabbed your ass. The very glutes I've been helping you keep toned. Seriously, take a fuckin' hint once in a while."

Jennifer became completely crimson. "I-I-I-I . . ." She sounded like a broken record.

"Now," Lauren said, grabbing Jennifer by the shoulder and walking her to the second floor elevator like none of this ever happened, "how about you do those tradmill excercises anyway?"

In my place between Jennifer's boobs, I couldn't help but grow angry at and jealous of this physical trainer.

That should be me, I thought.

I want to make one thing clear: Jennifers time on a treadmill was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my life, as I was jostled around, bounced between her breasts, and just in general made to realize that no matter how something seems from the outside, the inner workings of any event can be really scary.

That having been said, it was also a bit of a thrill. To think that countless people would be willing to kill for the position I occupied made it sweet. The fact that Jennifer's personal trainer was outside with a definite desire to take my place made it that much sweeter.

Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure that it's mostly the chemical imprinting talking, but the only thought I had was that Jennifer was my owner, and I wasn't going to share her with some dumb pile of muscle.

"Can . . . I . . . stop . . . now?" Jennifer panted, worn down from having run what had to be at least three miles.

"Yeah," Lauren sighed dreamily, "I guess that's enough. Don't want you too worn out," she giggled.

Jennifer switched off the treadmill and practically fell over. "Hoo . . . I'm beat. I'm sweating so much I could probably fill a fishbowl."

At my scale, I had probably swallowed enough of her sweat to fill a fishbowl. Salt water is no fun to get in your mouth- but most people learn that at the beach, not being caught in a workout.

Looking up through Jennifer's shirt, I could see Lauren grinning widely. She'd caught an eyeful of Jennifer, and judging by those unnaturally dilated pupils, she liked what she saw.

Go die in a fire, you big bitch, I screamed internally.

Lauren's hand came way too close to me for comfort. "So, have you finally given up on your hopeless crush on a straight girl yet?"

I smiled with relief as Jennifer's hand protectively defended my position (which, in hindsight, was also protecting herself from being groped, but I like to think she had me in mind). "It's not hopeless, I still have a chance. I've got to keep trying- she didn't tell me no, and I'm pretty sure she said that it's a maybe. I'm just playing the waiting game now."

Lauren scoffed. "Yeah, and it's not like she has any other reason to keep you close to her. I mean, from what you've told me, it sounds like you've repeatedly kept her from being fired, you do most of her laundry for her, you constantly feed what has to be the biggest ego in the world- don't you get that you're being used?"

This speech hurt me. Not because she was dissing me so much (although that was part of it), but because it was mostly true. I was a terrible worker, often showing up late, sleeping onthe job, and having had a terrible track record for poor customer service- if it weren't for Jennifer repeatedly vouching for me and letting me keep my job, I'd probably be unemployed. I very rarely did laundry- in fact, I didn't even know how a washing machine worked until sometime last year. I liked to think that we were friends (and Jennifer probably liked to think more), but our relationship mostly boiled down to her being in love with me and me taking advantage of it.

"Wh- what?" Jennifer stuttered, her voice now low and quiet. She sounded just about ready to cry. "Mary would never-"

"She already is! Don't you get it?" Lauren's voice sounded downright mean at this point, and I wished I were normal size for just a moment, to punch her in the face. "Mary never loved you, and I doubt she ever will, with that huge head she's got! You'd do best to forget about her and just move on. Find someone who really cares about you so you finally get what you deserve." Lauren's voice slowly softened.

"You're- you're wrong," Jennifer muttered. "And I'll prove it." Without any warning, she fished me out of her cleavage, leaving me cringing in Jennifer's palm.

Now that I was outside the relative safety of Jennifer's bra, Lauren was utterly terrifying. Her arms were thick, defined, and exuded power. The tight tanktop that stuck to her from sweat revealed ridiculously-defined abs. The woman's slate-gray eyes regarded me with a mix of curiousity and disgust. "What is that?" she asked, her tone full of spite.

I quickly stood up, despite my fear. No one would make my owner cry. "I'm Mary, you big brute! What the hell is up with you? Can you not handle getting rejected, is that it?"

Jennifer gasped. "Mary, don't-"

Lauren snatched me in one hand, crushing the air out of me. She held me to her face, her eyes filled with rage. "I almost wish you were the real deal, pipsqueak. I would just love to kill you, what with how many times Jennifer's come in crying because of you." Lauren got a cruel sort of grin. "But you're a Construct. A fake copy, and one that belongs to Jennifer. So I'm gonna let you off. But if you treat her like the real Mary does, or mouth off to me like that again, and I will end you."

"No, you won't," Jennifer said, her voice quivering with anger. "For three reasons. Reason number one, she's my Construct, and if you threaten her like that again I'll sue you for property damages- and this little one's insured for more than you'd believe. Reason number two, if you so much as touch her again, I'm quitting my membership and never coming back to this fucking place. Reason number three, she loves me, and I love her back, so if you even look at her funny again I will beat you with your own legs. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Had I the ability to breathe at that point, I would've whistled.

Lauren handed me back to Jennifer, scowling. "Look, Jen," she sighed, trying to make amends, "I'm sorry. I just . . . after how much you said you loved this chick, and how she basically rejected you without letting you go . . . I'm pissed, I'm jealous, and I really think you deserve better. A lot better."

Looking up into Jennifer's face, her still-hazel eyes stayed narrowed. "Regardless, you have no right to hurt Little Mary. Apologize to her- she's the one you almost seriously hurt."

Lauren lowered her face down to Jennifer's hand, and tried to look away from me. "I'm sorry, Mary. Can you . . ." she quite visibly gulped literally swallowing her pride, "forgive me?"

I coughed, attracting a sympathetic hand on my back from Jennifer. "Y- yeah, I guess. I see where you're coming from. Maybe, when Jennifer gets me to normal size, we could really talk about all this."

Lauren nodded. "I'd . . . I'd like that. But I do reserve the right to call you names forever, for how much hurt you've put my favorite client through."

I shrugged. "I guess I deserve it. To be fair, I was kinda oblivious."

Jennifer laughed. "Kinda? I thought you'd out me and stop being my friend when you caught me making out with your pillow."

Lauren raised her hands. "Wait, wait, what?" She grinned, putting up a valiant effort at not laughing. "You caught her making out with your pillow, and you didn't suspect that she might have a thing for you?"

I shrugged sheepishly. "It was freshman year. I did the same thing all the time."

Jennifer and Lauren just kept laughing at my expense. 

Sure as sure was, Jennifer got back to her weekly exercising, supervised by Lauren. Eventually, I got used to the jostling in her cleavage, and took a quick power nap.

"Mary?" Jennifer roused me from my slumber. "Little Mary? Wake up, please- I don't have the slightest clue how I could shower and get changed with you here."

"I'll hold her!" I heard Lauren exclaim, as I felt myself being rather roughly removed from my warm resting place.

Jennifer shrieked. "G- g- give me some warning next time, at least- geez!"

"And miss your absolutely adorable reaction when you get flustered like that?" Lauren chuckled. "Not on your life, sister."

I finally managed to focus my eyes on Jennifer, and she was pouting indignantly. "Y'know, I could just  bump you down a few notches on my back-up plan list," she grumbled, stepping into the shower room.

Lauren looked down at me in confusion. "Back-up plan list?"

I sighed- apparently I was Little Miss Exposition today. "A little after she told me about her crush on me, I found the list. It's a decent-sized list of girls to go looking for if I ever completely shut her down."

Lauren grinned. "And where do I rank?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Hell if I know. I wasn't exactly paying attention."

She rolled her eyes. "Not to complain, but you aren't very helpful."

I grinned wickedly. "And even if I did know, I sure as hell wouldn't tell you, 'cause with me around she won't need the damned thing."

Her eyes narrowed. "I hate you so damned much, you know that?"

"Yeah, you kinda made it clear when you almost killed me earlier," I replied with all the snark I could muster.

"No, it's not even that," she said angrily. "You've got it made. Here's a sweet girl with a genius-level IQ, a body like an itty-bitty goddess, and holy hell can she cook-"

"Don't I know it," I interrupted cheekily, running a hand over my stomach.

"-and yet she wastes it all on your ungrateful ass," she spat. "You just don't fucking get it- you're a goddamned leech, sponging off of her because she's got a thing for you." Lauren, to my surprise, began to cry. "It's just like high school all over again. Passed up for tits," she said, flicking my assets with the hand not occupied with me.

"Whoa, hey now," I tried to reassure her, again realizing how fucked up I'd been through hindsight. "All things fair, I kinda just didn't notice her crush. We've been friends just about forever, and her falling for me was probably a slow thing I didn't see developing. Had she spoken up earlier, like when I hated my parents' guts and wanted to do anything to spite them in high school, she might have gotten what she was after a lot faster. And as for you, well, my little blueberries don't really compare."

Lauren cracked a smile. "Blueberries?" she murmured incredulously.

I shrugged. "Closest size comparison I had."

Jennifer stepped out of the shower room completely re-dressed shortly after our talk had finished. Once I found myself pressed between mammary mounds once again, I decided to think.

The more time I spent like this, the more I realized just how shitty I had been acting to Jennifer our entire lives. Everything had always been about me and what I wanted, with Jennifer my loyal sidekick who did whatever I asked her to. The girl had literally saved my life on multiple occasions, and I wasn't a decent enough human being to give her peace enough to move on with her life. Heck, even the most jipped video game protagonist in history gets a kiss on the nose or baked goods for his efforts once in a while, and I had never even done that much for the girl.

I made up my mind right then and there to repay all that Jennifer had done. I'd do something really grand and awesome for her, and she'd love it, and we'd- wait.

Why was I having this fantasy?

Before I could do the soul-searching to discover the answer to that, I heard Jennifer murmur, "Oh, shit."

She began sprinting, and I started getting bounced around again.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, OH COME THE FUCK ON!" she yelled, pouring on more speed.

"Wha-a-a-a-at ha-a-app-e-e-e-ened?" I tried to communicate, but the bouncing made it very hard to speak clearly.

"My apartment door's wide open," Jennifer said breathlessly, taking the stairs two at a time.

Once we got up there, however, the surprise was less "oh shit" and more "what the fuck?".

"Hey Jenny," an all-too-familiar voice cooed, dripping with surprisingly obvious sexual desire.

"Sarah," Jennifer began neutrally, "two questions. One is 'how did you find out where I live?' and the other is 'why did you break into my apartment?'"

I peeked out of Jennifer's cleavage, looking at my sister, who I'd thought we'd left half a country away. Her hair's still just as wavy and red as I remember, but the creepy-as-fuck smile is new.

"Well," she began, twisting her hair around her finger like a shy teenager, "the answer to the first question is 'I did'nt'- technically, I followed my intuition. I knew where my sister lived, and you just adore her, so I figured you'd live in the same apartment complex. And, well, technically I didn't break in. You didn't lock the door."

I could tell from the strain on her voice that it was taking all of Jennifer's self-control to stay calm. The fact that the two titanesses began to circle one another like movie fighters wasn't helping. "My door . . . doesn't . . . lock. I was hoping the landlord would fix it."

It was then that I heard the sound that made every expression of fear inadequate- the sound of a deadbolt sliding shut. "He did. I let him in," Sarah giggled psychotically.

I shivered. That sound could only mean one thing- Sarah meant business.

From my place in Jennifer's cleavage, I watched my not-so-little sister slowly and sultrily walk up to Jennifer. While my owner was quite capable of fending off Sarah physically, her low self-esteem meant that she was probably too frightened to attempt anything.

"Don't worry, Jennifer," Sarah cooed. "I'll be gentle. You don't have to worry about a thing- hell, you ARE getting it on with a Dulhallan sister, just like you wanted."

In no uncertain terms, Sarah was now stripping Jennifer in preparation for what had to be rape. Given my current size and location, I was dead if Sarah went through with it.

"N- no . . ." Jennifer muttered. "This isn't . . . isn't right . . ."

Sarah put her index finger to Jennifer's lips. "Shh. Go with it." Judging by the motions she was putting her other hand through, it was not hard to guess exactly what she intended. 

"No," Jennifer stepped back, "this isn't gonna happen. I- I'm not losing my virginity to a fucking rapist!"

Sarah looked angry for a second, then confused, before softening up entirely. "Judging by that statement, you haven't told my sister shit yet, have you?" she askd quietly. "You haven't been able to work up the nerve to tell her how you feel."

"Actually-" Jennifer was cut off.

"Well, let me sketch out your future relationship for you," Sarah continued, her tone getting dark. "Just like all the boys she toyed around with, yeah, she might say yes, but she'll never make you feel like her equal. She might take your V card, even if it's something set up just to please her. I warn you now, though, that she will treat you like crap the whole time. then dump you at her convenience- and if you wise up and dump her, she will run to someone new for comfort," she ranted.

"I already told her how I feel about her!" Jennifer yelled. "Yeah, I'll admit that telling her all just as she was leaving the house to go on a date wasn't the best idea, but I got my feelings across!"

Sarah raised an eyebrow and smirked. "And you're telling me that she hasn't dug the knife in further by teasing you or giving you false hope? You're seriously saying she hasn't abused her power over you?"

"No, she hasn't!" Jennifer shot back. "Mary has done no such thing. She even gave me a Construct of herself to practice on." With that, I was again subjected to being yanked by my arms out of her chest.

Sarah smirked at me. "And you haven't brought her back to normal because what, exactly? Scared she'll run off?"

I glared at Sarah. "I'd never run away from Jennifer!"

Sarah's smirk only grew more psychotic. "So you're cool with being a bargaining chip over Jennifer?" She grabbed me in a second, and turned her attention back to Jennifer.

"Your landline is destroyed, and I know your cell's dead," Sarah glared at Jennifer. "If you so much as take one step to the door, I'll bite its little head off," she threatened.

Jennifer's eyes widened. "You wouldn't-"

Sarah positioned my head just inside her mouth, and a stray string of saliva smacked me in the face. "Try me. Now, we do this my way. Deviate from the plan in any way and the little bitch gets the same treatment as a gummy bear. Kapische?"

Jennifer nodded tearfully. "I'm so sorry, Little Mary."

Had I the ability to breathe, I would've told her everything was alright, that she could let my psycho sister dispose of me. As it was, I gasped like a goldfish.

Sarah gave a perverted grin. "Now strip. Slowly. Make it good."

Jennifer slowly removed her tank top, her cheeks burning with shame. "Is this what you want?"

Sarah nodded. "Now, I want you good and wet when I get to you, so I want you to talk about your biggest fantasy while you're stripping for me."

Jennifer nodded slowly, and it looked like she was trying not to cry. "M- Mary shows up to my apartment, ready to go . . . and she . . . and she lets me go down on her . . ."

Sarah was confused as all hell. "The fuck is that? That sure isn't a fantasy- it might be my sister's, but it doesn't make sense to be yours."

Jennifer shrugged. "I- I'll admit, when I was a horny teenager I dreamed big- Mary and two other girls fighting over who got to sleep with me was my big wet dream for a while- but over time, I kinda lowered my expectations, and so my fantasies got tamer with 'em." She twiddled her thumbs, embarrassed. "Now I'd be happy if she wasn't put off, and she let me be the one to get her off."

Sarah relaxed her grip, allowing me to take in huge gulps of air. "That's kinda sad," she said bluntly. "You sure you don't want anything for yourself?"

Jennifer looked down at her feet. "I just don't really see the point in dreaming. I'm never gonna get what I want, anyway, so I need to stop deluding myself. Mary's way out of my league, and I should accept that." She gave a hollow, bitter laugh. "Not everyone can have a girl built like a Soulcalibur character, after all."

Having finally gotten enough air to my lungs to speak, I spoke up. "Damnit, Jennifer, don't you see? I'd take you in a heartbeat, Sarah might rape you in the middle of the night if you don't keep your door locked, and even your physical trainer- who probably sees a half-dozen sexy athletes on a daily basis- has a thing for you. You've got it goin' on, and your girl-harem is a testament to that."

Sarah nodded vigorously. "You need a confidence booster- and nothing says confidence like walking down the street with a girl with assets. After all, people say that ass beats tits on a regular basis, and you can basically boil Mary's and my body types down to the age-old argument."

I narrowed my eyes. "What 'people' say that? Sir Mix-a-Lot?"

Jennifer giggled. "I'm surprised you made that reference."

Sarah pouted. "It's outdated, anyway." She handed me back to Jennifer. "Okay, first things first- we need to get you some confidence, then I jump in your pants."

Jennifer just looked down at me in her palm. "Seriously, though, the size of your head. You're a walking wet dream." She looked up at Sarah. "What kind of confidence booster did you have in mind?"

Sarah gave a mysterious grin. "You'll see."

My jaw dropped upon seeing the place Sarah had decided to take Jennifer to to boost her self-confidence. Surprisingly, however, Jennifer didn't recognize the place for what it was.

"So, why did you bring me to a bar?" Jennifer asked.

Sarah smiled. "Not just any bar. An all-girl bar, filled with drunk girls who will make passes at you."

I had to restrain a groan- even more specifically, it was Brooke's, the local lesbian bar- its reputation preceded it, to the point where I knew the place. In fact, I wondered how Jennifer had seriously never heard of it. Of course, I had my doubts that anyone except the hardcore drunks would be there at 2:30 in the afternoon on a Sunday.

Imagine my surprise at seeing the place pretty much full.

"Now," Sarah whispered, "I'll skulk off and pretend that you already shot me down, and you can enter and watch how many people hit on you."

With that, Sarah went to a booth in the back, pretending to be heartbroken after a rejection. Jennifer and I found ourselves at the front, and I found myself being stared at by at the very least seven different women, including the bartender. Considering where I was . . .

The first person to swing by was absolutely plastered, and I felt the combined physical and mental agony of being caught between breasts as they were being handled very roughly. I let out a cheer when Jennifer slapped that one.

Attempts number two through eight were clumsy, using the same stupid lines I've shut down dozens of guys for attempting, but at least they offered Jennifer a drink each. I was glad she wasn't starting on the alcohol, because having a drunken Jennifer in the middle of a lesbian bar was just asking for trouble.

It was girl number nine that scared me, though. She was a tall, lithe Eastern European lady, who offhandedly mentioned being a model- and I could believe it. The Amazonian pickup artist was way too good at flustering Jennifer, getting her to gulp down two glasses of whiskey just to keep from answering some of her more suggestive questions.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I never told the sexy little lady my name," she said, a giggle escaping her throat. "I am Annalise," she said, her voice growing more seductive by the second.

"Jennifer. My name's Jennifer," Jennifer said, blushing. From where I was, I could hear her pounding heartbeat.

"Pretty name," Annalise said. "Tell me, you've been dropping many of these ladies like they were bricks, you haven't been really drinking, you don't seem to know anyone . . . why are you here?"

"Erm . . . well . . ." Jennifer trailed off. "There is a girl I really want to ask out, but I don't feel confident enough to just . . . go for. I've had a crush on her forever, and I really don't want to fuck this up. I figured that I'd build up some confidence, maybe learn a couple of good lines or seductive moves, before I ask." She hung her head. "I still think that I might get rejected."

Annalise scoffed. "A girl like you? I don't even think a straight girl would say no if you asked right. Who could this chick be that she'd say no to you?"

Jennifer squirmed. "She's my best friend, and-"

"And she's become resistant to your pure sex appeal?" Annalise finished.

"I- my- what?" Jennifer lost all sense of composure at Annalise's words, and the fact that the taller woman had leaned in and pressed her chest against Jennifer's arm only made it worse. "I'm . . . I'm not . . ." Jennifer looked away.

"Sexy? Oh, the entire bar would disagree with you there," Annalise smiled. "In fact, if they saw you take off your shirt, most of them would buy you a drink immediately, or at least whistle."

From my spot, I was able to tell exactly what was going on, and what Annalise wanted. Annalise had successfully gotten Jennifer buzzed, turned her on, and expressed a definite interest. My owner was on Annalise's fish hook, and I was overwhelmed with a desire to protect her. Something about the accented amazon made me extremely nervous, and I wanted to save Jennifer from whatever ulterior motive she had.

Then, of course, the specter of self-doubt settled in. I wondered if I was just being petty and jealous, if I was defending her or simply being possessive. After all, maybe this woman just thought Jennifer was hot. That wouldn't be any surprise. Still, I trusted my instincts enough to squirm and capture Jennifer's attention.

"E- excuse me," Jennifer stammered, "I have to use the bathroom."

After a swift trip to the room in question, Jennifer hid in a stall, locked the door, and fished me out of her cleavage. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.

"Jenny," I started, "something feels off about this Annalise chick. I can't tell you what, but . . . something is scaring me, and I don't trust her."

Jennifer narrowed her eyes. "You think so? I can't see anything up with her. Maybe," she smirked, "you're jealous? A few of your boyfriends told me that you would flip out at seeing a girl too close to them. Am I your girlfriend, Mary?"

I groaned- Jennifer reached the same conclusion I did. "I don't know. Maybe? I guess I have a bad habit of being a little . . . controlling, but I don't think I'm that bad."

Jennifer sighed. "I guess that any progress with you is good. Alright, I'm taking off."

I immediately felt like a bitch. Jennifer was legitimately about to have the hot, devoted girlfriend she deserved, and I was making her feel bad about it. However, before I could reconsider, Jennifer had already gotten into motion.

"Bye, Annalise, and thanks," Jennifer said on the way out. I swear that the woman was looking directly at me as Jennifer spoke.

"See you again," Annalise said.

---------

After a moderately tense car ride (during which I wondered what happened to Sarah), Jennifer returned home, locked the door, and left me on her dresser, before removing her pants and lying down on her bed. 

Jennifer sighed. "This is just not my day."

I had an idea. It would be good for me just for bringing it up, and it had a chance to put Jennifer back in a good mood, too. Of course, I would have to hide what it was from her . . .

"Hey, Jennifer?" I asked timidly. "Can you please put me on the bed next to you?"

Jennifer looked scared. "But . . . aren't you scared I might try to eat you again? I'm not sure that I can trust myself. My mouth is a cavern of death!"

I stepped back, shocked. "Jenny, I- I trust you, and your mouth is most definitely not a cavern of death. In fact, I trust you enough that, if I knew you were awake, I'd let myself get played with like a little candy in there- but that's beside the point. I am yours, and so far you've gotten nothing out of owning me. I'd like to rectify that."

Jennifer blushed. "I don't have to get anything out of it, but . . . okay . . ." She sat up, and set me on her chest.

"It's so refreshing to be on this side of the shirt," I joked, garnering another blush from Jennifer. I used the same trick from earlier to climb onto her face, and buried my face in her lips.

Jennifer lifted me from her face, blushing like mad. "Did- did you just kiss me, Mary?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I did. Was it as good as you had hoped?"

Jennifer grinned. "Better. I've never felt this loved. We'll have to do that again when I get you back to normal tomorrow." She set me back on her chest, and laid a hand over me to hug me possessively. 

I slid myself from under her hand. "I'm not done yet, Jennifer. Not by a long shot. I have three orgasms and four times that you've saved my life to repay, plus the stuff I have to do because I'm yours. I figure I should start now."

With that, I ran down this time, heading lower until I was standing on her panties. 

"Wait, Mary, what are you-" Jennifer started.

I interrupted by sliding down until I stood in front of the most sensitive part of her body and attempting to grab it through the material. "Trying to give you what you've earned."

"Mary!" Jennifer gasped. She gripped me between two fingers and raised me to her face. "What the hell?"

I hung my head. "I was trying to get you off to help repay everything you've done for me." I laughed hollowly. "Guess I messed that up."

"No, no, not at all!" Jennifer quickly blurted, trying to raise my spirits. "Actually, that felt fantastic. I just don't think it would be a good idea for you to be down there. What if you get caught inside? What if my legs come together and smash you? Too much can go wrong!" She looked terrified. "I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. Besides," she began to admit conspiratorially, "you've already helped me get off in about a billion fantasies. I've taken advantage of you so many times in my head that I feel guilty that I haven't done enough for you."

I smiled. "You really are one of a kind, Jennifer."