Freshman Fifteen is a collection of fifteen vignettes (upon completion) about size-related encounters for a small group of students during their freshman year.  The intention is to keep them brief, five pages at the most, and exciting.  There will be continuity between each one, but a reader should be able to only read the introduction chapter and skip to the story they want to read without having to be familiar with everything before it.

 

Main characters will typically come from my other stories while people encountered will usually not.  In almost all cases, people incidentally encountered will die in one way or another, and the deaths will be quick.  If you are familiar with my work this will not be a surprise to you, but if you aren’t – go read it! 

 

I am open to constructive feedback and encourage all readers to use that review button on the story’s page.  Keep in mind that, for example, “I wanted a butt crush” and “she’s too mean” is not constructive feedback, and if you want a specific type of ending I will probably get to it. 

 

If you have a particular itch that isn’t getting scratched, mention it in the reviews or send a message to my off-site e-mail, I won’t bite your head off.  There’s a very real possibility though that I already plan to address that particular aspect, and if I absolutely will not do it I’ll say so in the most diplomatic way possible.  It never hurts to ask, and if I use your idea I’ll mention you in the introductory notes.

 

This introduction will be updated as chapters are added and core characters are introduced.

 

Common tags for each story are Giantess and Instant Size Change.  Tags in addition to these for each story are listed after the title. 

 

Table of Contents

1. Upskirt – Crush, Footwear, Violent
2.  Drinking Contest - Mouth Play, Vore
3.  Gym, Part I - Butt, Entrapment, Humiliation, Muscle
4.  Bothersome - Footwear, Humiliation, Violent, tiny gets yeeted into a wall
5.  Target of Opportunity - Breasts Crush, Footwear, Humiliation, Muscle, Violent
6.  Gym, Part II - Crush, Feet, Footwear, Humiliation
7.  Proud Boy - Hard Vore, Humiliation, Legwear, Violent
8.  Halloween - Crush, Footwear, Humiliation, Violent
9.  Bonding Experience - Crush, Footwear, Unaware
10.    
11.    
12.    
13.    
14.    
15.    

 

Characters

Fulda Stein

Personality – Dominant, judgmental, and more than a little cruel, Fulda is outwardly a bully.  She grew up rich and with very little supervision, so is accustomed to always getting what she wants one way or another.  The suffering of others makes her giddy, especially if she caused it.  Obsessed with her own height, she frequently mentions how small other people look to her, and dreams of one last growth spurt to put her over seven feet.  Her close circle of friends is like her family, and they would describe her as honest and brave, a natural leader who stands tall in the face of adversity.  The last serious relationship she had ended poorly, and she dreams of recapturing the magic of her high school fling.  Hobbies include going to the gym, sports, drinking, and reading, and areas of interest are mathematics and engineering.

 

Appearance – A mountain of a woman at 6’8” and extremely jacked, Fulda keeps her long auburn hair braided and usually fastened with a light blue ribbon.  Her icy blue eyes practically sparkle beneath well-groomed eyebrows, and a rounded nose perfectly ties her face together.  Sparse freckles lightly fleck her golden brown cheeks, and her thin lips usually shine with a pink gloss.  In addition to her beautiful face she has a body to die for, with ample breasts, legs that go for days, and a heart-shaped butt.  Time in the gym has obviously paid off, giving her a six pack and slabs of muscle spread evenly enough on her huge frame to give the appearance of leanness.  Typically she wears clothes to show off her body since she is rightly proud of it and low-top Converse, though she loves the boost she gets from a pair of 6” high heels.  Her shoe size is 16.

 

Helen Komnena

Personality – Helen is a no-nonsense type, very stern and commanding, with little tolerance for things not getting done right when she says it.  She is used to being the boss or other positions of power, and does not take it well when someone tries to turn it around on her.  In her eyes, the only good authority is hers, and anyone trying to usurp that is going to have hell to pay.  Not listening to her earns you whatever you have coming, and she is more than willing to laugh at someone when it happens.  Her few friends and many acquaintances (minions, as she calls the latter) think of her as a strong guide, making sure they are taken care of and stay on task, because no one knows better than her.  She is not currently looking for anything serious, enjoying the many opportunities college life has to offer, and resents the idea of being tied down.  Hobbies include drinking, bug collecting, photography, and resistance running, and areas of interest are biology and medicine.

 

Appearance – Helen is no shy daisy.  At 6’6” with a solid frame she can endure a lot, and dish it out even better.  Her platinum blond hair often falls free so her curls can bounce with her steps, and her baby blue eyes captivate most anyone who looks at them.  She has a sharp nose and pouty lips, and a small mole on her right temple stands out against her pale skin and rounded cheeks.  While her face shines, some would say her body is the main attraction, with a large chest even for someone her size and legs that can crush melons.  Her workouts contribute to her lean muscle and flat tummy, and she can do an immense amount of work without breaking a sweat.  Normally her clothes are selected for comfort, but she appreciates the stability from her white high-top Converse, a little tight on her at size 14.

The sun had already set behind campus buildings and the sky was a radiant mixture of orange and yellow.  Fulda trudged up the walkway toward the nearest shuttle stop, her long strides echoing with the sound of Converse slapping against pavement while her loose skirt swayed with her hips.  That evening had flown by for her while she pored over the course catalogue open to her, trying to decide which classes to enroll in.  Most people had left the library an hour before, but she wanted to be extra thorough.  Besides, a scale model of the library had caught her attention on the way out, and she was having so much fun imagining stories about it.

 

She reached the stop after only a few minutes of walking and slid a hand into her messenger bag.  Her skillful fingers wrapped around a beaten-up paperback, then grabbed the cords of her earbuds.  Quickly she slid them into her ears and opened the book to an arbitrary spot and acted like she was reading it.  Hopefully she could at least get back to her dorm without having to fake giving a shit about what some random guy wanted to talk at her about.

 

The earbuds played nothing and were not connected to anything, and it was entirely irrelevant what the book was as long as it was not genre fiction, according to the tip she received.  On the way into campus alone she had been pestered by three different men while gazing out the window, and made several trips to the bathroom to escape more who took the open seat next to her as an engraved invitation.  Luckily an upper-class girl noticed her predicament and gave her the tip on how to keep annoying blowhards at bay, but specified that a sci-fi or fantasy book would only encourage them to share their opinions.

 

Someone else walked up and stood beside Fulda, a little close for her comfort with the wide open sidewalk on either side.  She slid an eye from her fake reading to give him a visual inspection and was thoroughly unimpressed.  He had moderate acne on his pasty cheeks, with a wide-brimmed hat pulled almost over his eyes which did nothing to hide the wispy mustache.  A T-shirt two sizes two big hung off his spindly frame, and cargo shorts showed just too much of his pale legs.  An unfortunate pair of mottled gray tennis shoes completed the ensemble of what Fulda pictured when she thought of the absolute last guy she wanted to talk to.

 

Fortunately, he kept his mouth shut, but she kept up the façade.  Fulda felt something bump into her shoulder, barely moving her impressive frame but drawing her attention nonetheless.  She took a peek and saw the dweeb swaying away from her.  For now she chose to ignore it, chalking it up to his pathetic legs being unable to support even his emaciated body.

 

The bump came again, and with a quick glance Fulda saw his head snap the other way.  Once was an accident, she told herself, and twice was a mistake.  She tore an earbud out and spat, “Can I fucking help you?”  He stayed silent and started walking away, and she slipped the small speaker back in.  Obviously a creep, but at least not one bothering her anymore.

 

He started pacing back and forth between Fulda and the sidewalk, his stained fedora just visible over the top of her book.  She did her best to ignore him.  Any sort of attention would only encourage him, she figured, and if her ears fell victim to his undoubtedly nasal voice she would never be able to forgive herself.

 

Desperately waiting for the shuttle to arrive Fulda noticed something peculiar about the creep’s pacing.  Every time he passed her he slowed down dramatically, but only when moving to her right.  She surreptitiously peeked down during his next pass, and spotted a bright glint wholly out of place on his ratty shoe, perfectly circular.  Light glinting off a camera lens.

 

Fulda waited for him to come by again and seized him by the arm.  He tried to hop away but she held him fast, one powerful hand wrapped around his twig of an arm.  “Like upskirt pics, huh?” she asked icily, staring down at the waif of a man.

 

“Uh, I, um, you see…” he stammered, never managing to get say anything other than stall words.  Fulda glanced around.  Nobody in view, she noted, and no cars on the street, not even the damnable shuttle.  All the windows were dark, too.  Perfect.

 

She leaned in toward him then instantly regretted it when she accidentally sniffed his hat.  “You should’ve just told me,” she said, trying to sound seductive while fighting the urge to recoil.  “I’ll give you more than you know what to do with.”

 

He very much knew what he would do with them, but thought better of spoiling this gift.  “R-really?” he asked, looking up at her.  This was amazing.  Classes hadn’t even started yet and he’d already found his first model.

 

Fulda nodded emphatically and released his arm.  She smirked, and light danced in her eyes.  In an instant he was half his size, then he halved again, staring up at her knees with a bewildered expression.  He continued rapidly dwindling, soon finding himself below Fulda’s ankles before being dwarfed by her shoes.  When she finished he was almost indistinguishable from any other bug, and only then because she knew where to look.

 

High-pitched squeaks came from the tiny creep and Fulda lest loose a boisterous laugh.  She assumed a power stance and stared down at him, overjoyed at his utter powerlessness.  When he refused to move away from her she lifted a foot and held it above him, forming a 90-degree angle with her knee.  His squealing intensified and she brought it down, squashing him with a powerful stomp before smearing him along the pavement.

 

When she let go of his arm he had expected her to give him a phone number, e-mail, dorm room, something so they could do this in private.  He was taken completely off-guard when the already enormous woman doubled in size and kept growing.  His mind reeled, flashing through fear, curiosity, and anticipation, but mostly excitement.  Nobody would ever believe how he got such high-fidelity pictures.

 

Finally her explosive growth stopped, and he allowed himself to stare up at her in awe.  This is the perfect bug’s eye view, he thought while staring up her expertly tanned monolithic legs.  He could see directly under her skirt and to the white panties most women did their best to keep hidden from him.  Even better, she was looking down at him and striking a pose.  These pictures would get him so much online cred, and he whooped with joy.  She was even smiling and laughing, and he would have people hanging on his every word while he described the rolling thunder coming from her mouth.

 

She raised a colossal shoe over him and his excitement died.  Rapidly his gaze swapped from the enormous rubber diamonds to her face, which looked like she was in a state of bliss.  A chill ran down his spine and he shouted, “Hey wait, no!  This wasn’t part of the deal!  You can’t-“  Her mammoth shoe raced down, and before he could even process it the shoe overwhelmed him.  In an instant he was smashed, leaving behind nothing more than a tiny, flattened smear.

It was two weeks before Greek Row was allowed to throw a party, but Fulda thought it was worth the wait.  She could scarcely remember the last time she drank so much, and it turned out she was a natural at flip cup.  Every few minutes, though, some guy came up and tried to trick her into giving them her number, and she had to come up with a new way of blowing them off.  After the tenth one it was exhausting and she started having to recycle the lines so she could get back to drinking.

 

Fulda looked down at her cup.  Bone dry.  She had sucked the last drop out with the last draught, and there weren’t any kegs or bottles nearby.  The guy next to her noticed Fulda’s plight and offered her his drink, but she did not even acknowledge it.  Quickly she excused herself from the table to go get more.  It would be a good opportunity to take a break and get a look around, too.

 

On the way to the hall keg Fulda noticed a woman walking out of the kitchen with neon green paint stripes running down her arms and a hand print on her thigh glowing under the blacklight.  She was wearing all white and dressed comfortably, solidly built, and amazingly only a few inches shorter than Fulda.  “Cool paint!” she called out.  “Where’d you get it?”

 

The woman laughed and pointed behind her.  “There’s some dude with finger paints offering to paint women if they do him too.  I let him do it and told him to go fuck himself!”

 

Fulda cackled.  “Nice!” she replied, and walked past.  There would be time for stories when her cup was full.  Once she made it to the hallway she spotted the big, metal keg in a bucket of ice by the stairs, surprisingly with no line.  Jackpot.

 

After a few quick pumps it was good and pressurized, and Fulda held the spigot over her cup’s rim.  It was so low to the ground she had to bend over while pouring, but that was hardly a deal breaker.  She watched the foam rise to the top, eagerly awaiting the first long drink.

 

She was about to stand up when someone slapped her ass, hard.  Dropping the hose, she shot up and spun around to see what looked like an oversized thumb leering at her.  He was leaning against the stairs with one arm, barrel chested, and had no neck.  There was definitely some surprise when she looked down at him, but he quickly recovered.  “Hey beautiful, keeping a tally?” he asked.

 

“No, why would I?” Fulda replied.  It took a lot of effort for her to not break his nose, but if it turned out he lived here she would never be allowed in again.

 

“Well then, let’s start!” he said.  “I’ll even make it interesting: if I can drink more than you before midnight, you come up with me, but if you drink more than me I’ll let you punch me as hard as you can.  Deal?”

 

Fulda looked around.  The hallway was conspicuously empty of people, and this was more repulsive than most offers she had received.  Time to let out some frustration.  “Deal,” she said.  The man immediately started chugging, but Fulda was in no hurry, and simply grinned down at him.

 

In a split second there was no trace of him, aside from a bug-sized version of him standing at the tip of Fulda’s Converse.  She bent over and plucked him off the ground, then dangled him over her drink.  His high-pitched screams filled her with delight, and she almost regretted losing them when she dropped him in her beer with a splash.

 

“Looks like I’m about to win,” she said with a laugh, “because I’m about to drink you, and some of my beer!”  She drew it to her lips, and just when his screams returned the current dragged him into her mouth.  For a moment she toyed with him, then flicked him back to her gullet and swallowed.  Satisfied, she walked off to find the painted woman again, unaware of the green hand print on the seat of her shorts.

 

One minute he was chugging intensely, and the next he was staring up the tanned legs of a towering woman standing over him.  Before it even registered she leaned over and plucked him up between thumb and forefinger, making him drop his tiny beer on the ground.  The rush up made him light-headed, but while he dangled over the vast pool of beer in her cup he began to scream.

 

Her fingers let go and he plummeted into the waiting pond.  Briefly he submerged, then quickly swam his way back to the surface.  Looking at her from inside the cup was terrifying: her face dominated his whole field of view, and while she spoke he realized that her mouth was several times his size.  The booming of her voice startled him so much he could not even focus on what she said, just the noise it made.

 

The cup raised to her lips, parting them slightly, and the pink glossed lips filled his vision.  He tried to swim against the current but it was too string, and he was quickly swept between her lips, over her teeth, and onto her tongue.  She rammed him against her palate, stunning him, then flicked him to the back.  All the liquid in her mouth rushed around him, and he was carried down her throat with it.

The ring of metal hitting metal echoed through the gym when Fulda set the squat bar back on the rack.  Waking up before the crack of dawn meant that most days she got the gym to herself, and that made it all worthwhile.  That meant no wimps hogging the machines, nobody screaming like they were giving birth, and most importantly no creeps leering at her.

 

Unfortunately, today was not like most days.  Partway through her set she noticed a man-shaped toothpick standing in the doorway, wearing a shirt with cut-off sleeves and a backwards cap.  When the weight was off her shoulders he felt safe enough to approach and started walking toward her.  “Hey, I’ve been watching you squat for a bit,” he said.  Fulda took a drink of water and glared at him before setting the bottle back on the ground.  “You look good, but I’ve got some comments about your form.”

 

“My form’s fine,” Fulda retorted, still staring him down.  “I’ve been lifting twice your body weight since I was 15.”

 

“Like I said, you look good.  Real good.”  Fulda resisted the urge to break his teeth and let him have enough rope to hang himself.  “Just figured you could use a few pointers, is all.  I’m a trainer here, and I can give you a free session.”

 

“Bullshit.”  Fulda gripped the bar and squared her shoulders.  “I’ve been coming here for a month and I’ve never seen your scrawny ass.”

 

The twig laughed as though someone had told a joke.  “Yeah, I usually work in the evenings, figured I’d get my shift out of the way before class today.”  He walked until he was standing beside Fulda looking up at her without even having to duck under the bar.  “I’m just going to make some adjustments to your form.”

 

“Fuck you.”  With a slight shrug Fulda lifted the bar off the rack and dipped, her strong frame supporting nearly 400 pounds of weight.

 

She was not even all the way down before he had his hands on her sides.  “See, if you just straighten your back a little bit,” he began, clearly resting his hands on her waist, “and keep your butt in a little more…”  His hands gripped Fulda’s buttocks, cupping them almost perfectly while she stood back up.

 

This was enough to get him banned from the gym, possibly expelled from the whole school, but that would take time and Fulda was not a patient woman.  With a grunt she set the bar back to rest, then reached back and gripped the man by the throat.  She dragged him in front of her and gave his windpipe a squeeze before letting go. 

 

Before he could draw another breath he was looking up at Fulda’s waist, and an instant later her Converse alone towered over him.  It was difficult to spot him amid the black rubber, but his tiny body slowly moving away clued her in.  She bent over and reached for the shrunken man, easily pinching him between two fingers.  Then she stood back up and held the bug-sized person in front of her face.

 

“Seems you’ve taken a liking to my ass,” she said, batting him with a finger.  Tiny, pathetic squeaks came from him while he swung back and forth.  When she wanted to she could understand shrunken people, but this man was not worth the effort.  “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

 

His miniscule protests were hilarious, but Fulda did not bother to listen.  She simply carried him over her shoulder and held him against her shoulder blade while pulling out the waist of her spandex.  The squeaking got more intense up until the point she let him go and he tumbled down her back.  His puny body easily fell into the opening and she let go of the skin-tight material, trapping him between it and her butt.

 

Fulda went back to her workout.  After only three squats she felt a small wet spot where he had been and a tiny, muffled squelch.  Ordinarily she would take a moment to examine her handiwork, but she still had about half an hour left before it was even time to stretch.

 

He had not expected her to fight back at all, let alone quite so roughly.  Her icy stare felt like it pierced his very soul, and he began to feel tiny and pathetic just from her gaze.  However, he had not expected it to be quite so literal when she doubled in size, dwarfing him, and then continuing to grow until she towered over him like a colossus.  His eyes darted between the enormous shoes on either side of him, then he panicked and ran.

 

It was only a second into his escape that a shadow fell over him, then Fulda’s hand engulfed his fleeing, pathetic form.  The world rushed past in a blur and he felt faint from the powerful g-forces acting on his body, and the next thing he saw clearly was her monumental face filling his view.  She said something incomprehensible, her voice little more than a low roar to him, then slammed a finger into him hard enough he nearly flew out of her grip.

 

“I’m so sorry!” he shouted.  “I didn’t mean any harm, just please, whatever you’re going to do, don’t-“ another blast of sound from her mouth overwhelmed him, and he realized that his pleading was pointless.  He wasn’t even sure she could hear him.

 

That did not prevent him from trying to bargain his way out of it while she carried him over her broad, tanned shoulder.  “No, please, just let me go,” he begged while she pressed him against her back.  “I’ll forget this ever happened, I wont tell anyone, you’ll never see me again, just-“  She let him go and he screamed while bouncing his way down her muscular back until he landed in a tremendous spandex net.

 

The monolithic fingers holding the spandex open withdrew and it snapped shut, trapping him against her ass.  Its tensile strength drove him into her buttock and sealed around him, making it nearly impossibly to move.  Before he was even fully aware of what was going on the great muscle he was shoved into tightened, pressing him out against the tightening spandex.

 

After a few seconds the pressure disappeared, but he had no illusions it would stay that way.  Sure enough the muscle he was practically inside flexed, shoving him into the straining, skin-tight pants.  He felt his body strain under the tension while the two unstoppable forces ground him down, his bones bending from the pressure.  Then he was flooded with relief when she stood again, his body just narrowly resisting the giantess’s torment.

 

He tried to breathe in and found that he couldn’t.  Not only was there no room for his chest to expand, but the instant he opened his mouth Fulda’s flesh rushed in to fill it.  The heat became unbearable and she dipped again, grinding him between her ass and her spandex.  This time, when she reached her nadir, he could no longer bear it and his body ruptured.  His puny body was now nothing more than a tiny circle of blood to be washed down Fulda’s shower drain and be forgotten about before classes even began.

Fulda walked back to her dorm, trying to keep her focus on the sidewalk ahead of her.  She was irate that volleyball practice had lasted so long, especially on a Tuesday.  It was already dusk, and she had six chapters left to read and a homework assignment due before Thursday.  There was not even time to change out of her uniform before heading out, so she no choice but to walk the quarter mile in her tight, revealing shorts and sweaty shirt, her dark blue sneakers slapping carelessly on the pavement.  Fortunately she had little to fear from other people due to her size, but she could never be too careful.

 

“Hey, um, Fulda, right?” a voice called out to her when she turned a corner.  She stopped and looked in its direction, finding nothing.  With a quick glance down she spotted the bold party: a short, spindly man who did not quite make it to her shoulders.  Relieved that she had nothing to fear from someone like him she stopped to hear him out.  “I’ve seen you in my building, would you mind if we walked together?”

 

“Yeah, sure!” Fulda replied, much more confident than he was.  “I could use the company.  Doesn’t hurt that you’re a cutie, either.”  The tiny compliment seemed to light a fire in the small man, as though it were the first nice thing anyone had ever told him.  She was no stranger to hangers-on and adoring fans glomming onto her ankle after watching her play, and she understood why the vast majority of them were men.  This had been happening since she started playing, and they were annoying but harmless.  Either they went away on their own when she did not reciprocate their advances, or they disappeared.

 

The trip back went quickly enough, and Fulda did her best to maintain a conversation with the diminutive man out of politeness.  She tried not to let his nattering get to her and gave real answers to his questions, but he was very high-strung, a sharp change from his glum, nervous demeanor from when he first accosted her.  It was like by merely acknowledging his existence she had breathed new life into him, and he was eager to get as many words out of his mouth before the spark died.

 

When they arrived at their building he rushed forward, grabbing the door and opening it for her.  “Why, thank you!” Fulda said, nodding her head to him while she crouched beneath the frame.  When she was through he quickly let go and hurried after her, as though he was scared of getting left behind.  They patiently waited for the elevator, him continue to chatter away while Fulda offered an occasional syllable or two to act like she was listening.  In a few more seconds she would no longer have to be polite.

 

Finally the elevator opened and they stepped on, with Fulda stopping low again.  She pressed her floor, then turned to her little follower.  “What floor?” she asked.

 

“Oh, I’m getting off with you,” he answered.

 

Fulda gave him a quizzical look.  “It’s an all-girls floor,” she replied, “so seriously, where are you going?”

 

“Let me rephrase,” he began, clearing his throat.  “I’m getting off with you.  Get it?”

 

She looked down at him, aghast.  “I think you got the wrong idea, dude,” she said.  None of her other ankle-grabbers had been this forward, and she was unsure how to dissuade him.  “You’re nice and all, and I appreciate you walking with me, but I’ve got a ton of homework to do.  Maybe we can meet for lunch sometime?”

 

“C’mon, your homework will still be there tomorrow,” he said, taking a step toward her.  He wrapped an arm around Fulda’s waist, and she resisted the urge to tear it off.  Whatever goodwill his cuteness earned him had run out.  “Let’s have some fun tonight, huh?”

 

The door opened, and Fulda wanted to run screaming, maybe break a couple of his bones on the way out.  Instead she looked down at him, and from his hard gaze realized she was not the first woman he’d done this to, nor would she be the last unless she did something.  She slid an arm over his shoulder and anchored it at the small of his back, then practically threw him forward when she walked out.  “Yeah, I could use a good time,” she said.

 

When the door to her room had closed behind them the small man leaned against her, pushing Fulda against her bed and resting his head on her breasts while he looked up at her.  “I’ve never been with a woman as gigantic as you,” he said.

 

Perfect setup.  “If you think I’m gigantic now,” she said with a smirk, “just wait a sec.”  She focused on the small, hopeful man clinging to her, and mentally emphasized how small he was.  He rapidly dwindled, his weak grip around her breaking when he became too small to maintain it.  In an instant he was below her knees, then little more than a bug beside her shoe that she would have ignored if she did not know he was there.

 

Fulda looked down at her handiwork with pride.  “I think you’ll find all women are gigantic now,” she taunted, bending over and reaching a hand toward him.  He tried to run but she easily snatched him up in a fist, then stood back to her full height.  “You’re not going to see any of them, though.”  She reared her fist back and threw it forward, releasing her joke of an assailant.  The tiny man flew out of her hand and splattered against the wall, making a little mess when his body shattered against the cinderblock.

---

From his point of view, the plan was working perfectly.  He was about to bag the tallest woman he had ever seen, and she was going along with it!  Slowly he pressed up against her, getting ready to make his next move, when suddenly she shot up another five feet.  Astonished and overjoyed he looked up at her, but to his horror she kept growing.  His hold on her broke when she became too massive for his arms to wrap around, and she continued her unrestrained growth.  It was not until her shoe dwarfed him that he realized he had shrunk, and he was no more than an inch tall at the feet of a gorgeous giantess.  Her legs alone were like great, tanned pillars, capped by the tiny spandex shorts at the very top.

 

She spoke, her voice a low rumble to him now, and from her imposing stance he realized that he fucked up.  “Hey, no!” he shouted up while she began bending over.  “I’m sorry, I’ll leave, we can get lunch tomorrow!”  The titanic redhead continued bending over, her ice blue eyes locked onto him.  All confidence left him and he turned around, making a mad dash away from her.  A shadow fell over him, and he looked back to see her enormous palm, fingers outstretched over him.  The fingers clamped down, and he felt like a truck hit him when the rest of her palm crashed into him.

 

His world rushed around, and he felt sick while the colossal woman stood back up.  She said something else with her terrifying voice and he felt another surge as she drew her fist back.  By now he was crying, begging for his life even though his cries would never escape the fingers wrapped around him.  Intense g-forces gripped him, and the fingers unfurled to allow him to gaze upon the spartan room once more.  His vision lasted less than a second, though, and he flew through the air toward the wall.  Before he could even scream he slammed into it and was almost liquefied on contact.  Fulda grabbed a tissue and scraped his remains off the paint, then dropped the miniscule corpse in the trash.

By the time Fulda left the gym, the sun was already behind the trees.  It was getting dark, and she needed to start studying soon.  She walked with long, slow strides, letting her Converse slap loudly against the cobblestones.  The very act of walking made her feel powerful, like she could topple buildings.  Alas, though she was gigantic compared to people, she did not dwarf buildings.  Her natural growth had capped out, and she knew she would never grind a structure beneath her sole.

 

Fulda’s bicep twitched, a phantom flex for the intense weightlifting she had just finished.  A few more sessions in the gym and she would be able to crush someone before she even shrank them.  She could already easily crush a watermelon between her thighs, it was just a matter of luring a victim into the trap.

 

Crushing people and things dominated her thoughts more than usual, and Fulda knew why.  It had been weeks since she shrank someone, let alone smashed or ate them.  She missed watching a man dwindle before her eyes, and longed to feel a body flatten beneath her shoes.  There was nothing so satisfying as the crunch a tiny person made when she stepped on them, and she needed to hear it again.

 

She was in luck this evening.  A man who could not have been more than five and a half feet tall was coming the other direction.  His head was down to watch his steps, but with her long steps he would not be able to move aside in time.  Fulda looked around to make sure no one was watching, then drifted into his path.  If she played her cards right, she could even make him feel guilty.

---

Edward was walking in front of the student center after a chemistry lab, counting the cobblestones to occupy his mind.  An enormous low-top Converse that covered three stones came out of nowhere and landed right in front of him.  He tried to step to the side, but he was already moving forward.  He collided with what felt like a wall made of flesh, his face ramming between a pair of firm breasts.

 

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, creep?” she hissed, and pushed him back with a powerful shove.  He took a few steps to right himself before looking at the person he had accidentally bumped into.  Her icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through him, and her auburn hair was pulled into a braid that fell over her chest.  Sweat lines streaked her tanned skin from her scalp to her white tank top, and tiny black shorts, their ends rolled up to make them even shorter, showed off her bulging quads and powerful calves.

 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, and tried to move past her.  She stepped into his path again and bumped him back with her hips.

 

“Yeah you are,” she said, “and you’re about to be sorrier.” He stared up at the gigantic woman in shock as she grew even larger.  She was by far the largest woman he had ever seen, and he soon found himself staring up at her waist.   Her legs were absurdly long, and seemed to get even longer as he dwindled.  By the time he was past her knees her thighs seemed dozens of feet long, and her calves rapidly grew to become great columns supporting her enormous frame.  By the time everything had settled he was like a mouse to her, and the cobblestone he stood on was the size of a barge.

 

Without even looking down she stepped forward, bringing a shoe over him.  “Hey, no, wait!” he cried out.  “I said I was sorry!”  If she heard him, she gave no sign.  The brown rubber diamond pattern drew closer as she stepped forward, and he backed away from it.  There was no way for him to escape.  Her enormous feet were too long and wide for him to get out from beneath, and he raised his arms in a desperate act of self-preservation.

 

His arms did him no good.  When her sole came down they snapped like toothpicks, and his body was shoved against the pavement.  Her step slowed down once it hit his chest, and she took her sweet time finishing it.  He slowly felt his body compress under her tremendous weight, the pain growing more intense as his body conformed to the force pressing down on him.  First his ribs snapped inward, then she began pressing down on the remains.  A surge of tremendous agony flooded his body while his vision blacked out, then he was no more.

 

Unbeknownst to him, Fulda had gotten plenty of practice squashing men like him and knew just how to make it last.  She savored the moment, grinding her foot against the cobblestones to reduce his body to unidentifiable mush.  When she was satisfied she moved on, leaving his remains to get washed away with the morning dew.

 

The warm gym was a welcome escape from the crisp autumn air outside.  It was dark outside, and still would be when Fulda left.  If temperatures kept dropping like this, she would soon need something more substantial than a black crop top and compression shorts to protect her from the cold during the walk to and from her dorm room.  She needed a full workout to start the day, and in the wee morning hours there was no one to compete with for equipment.

 

She stepped into the weight room, her enormous Converse slapping the rubber floor with each step.  Even though it was secured in a French braid, her auburn hair brushed her back as she looked around, reveling in the silence.  Her icy blue eyes did not spot a single person besides herself in the mirrors.    Fulda gulped down the last bit of her protein shake and walked toward the back wall to get started with some squats.

 

Just before she could step inside the frame and claim the equipment for herself, someone stepped in front of her and grabbed the bar.  Fulda looked at him in surprise.  Not only was it a shock that someone else was in here this early, but he had gone out of his way to disrespect her.  She could not let this stand, and needed to assert her claim as early morning gym queen.

 

Fulda cleared her throat loudly to get his attention before saying, “Excuse me, I believe you’re using my machine.”  Most men suddenly turned into cowards when faced with her, and she hoped she could deter him without having to use force.

 

“Didn’t see you using it,” he replied nonchalantly.  “Plenty of other squat racks for you to use.”  As he spoke, he walked around the squat machine and began loading plates onto the bar.  Three on one side marked him as ambitious, but hardly a powerhouse.  He was a pipsqueak compared to Fulda, who might use that as a warmup.

 

“Look, I’m on a very tight schedule,” Fulda told him.  “I’ve been doing the same routine here for months, and this one’s centrally located with the other machines I use.  Think you could move aside for a bit so I can do my squats?  It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise.”

 

“Sorry, you can’t reserve machines like that.”  He loaded the other side while talking to her.  “If you absolutely have to use this one, I suggest you wait for me to finish.  I’ll only be a few minutes too, I promise.”

 

His refusal to respect her demands was bad enough, but Fulda could not abide his patronizing tone.  She glowered down at him, trying to bore a hole through him with her eyes, but he paid her no further mind.  It was clear she would have to use more extreme methods to get what she wanted, and she waited until he was back under the bar but struck before he could grab it.

Eric did his best to ignore the woman lingering in front of him, though it was difficult.  It was rare he met a woman several inches taller than him so she must have been gigantic, her body rippled with toned, bulging muscles, and her cold eyes seemed to stare through him.  However, her physical power would not help her here.  He was clearly in the right, and not even the most roided-out freak would assault someone over a minor disruption to their workout routine. 

 

As he reached for the bars, he realized something was wrong.  The metal no longer rested on his shoulders, and he found himself unable to move aside from turning his head.  Further, the demanding woman seemed to be getting larger before his eyes.  It did not take a genius to conclude she was shrinking him, though he had no idea how.  He looked up at her, shocked that his eyes were already below her chest, and worried she would simply make him walk out a humiliating foot shorter.  His dwindling continued, however, and he soon found himself gaping up at her waist, then her powerful thighs as he slipped below her knees.  When the shrinking finally stopped he was dwarfed by her shoes, no taller than the white rubber toes astride him.

 

He could move again but getting away from her was impossible.  It would take a minute just to run the length of her gargantuan feet, and she could stop him with a simple twist of her foot.  “Okay, you can have the rack!” Eric shouted up at her.  “Just grow me back!”

 

“That’s a pretty decent weight you’ve got here,” she boomed.  Her voice had been deep and husky before, but now it was a terrifying low rumble.  Every syllable made his stomach quiver as its raw power flowed through his body.  “Let’s see how you do with something a bit heavier.”  It was clear she either could not hear him or had chosen not to listen.

 

She picked up one of her ginormous shoes and took a half step forward.  The rubber mat absorbed the shock of her heel hitting the ground, but her tremendous sole stretched over and well beyond him.  Eric was stuck inside her shoe’s shadow, and everywhere he looked above him was brown rubber.  One of the diamonds etched into the sole was centered over him, and if he laid flat he might span the length between its tips.

 

The foot dropped, and he braced himself for impact.  To his surprise he was able to stop it from smashing him, though his legs shook from the immense weight.  That changed once she stopped holding back.  His knees gave out, forcing him to do a macabre version of the splits as the shoe pressed down.  It kept coming, and even if he could stand, he would not have been able to resist it.  In an instant his spine compressed and all his bones shattered, then her foot met the mat, utterly squishing him beneath her sole.

 

Fulda let her foot linger on him for a moment, pressing down with all her weight, then lifted it back up.  She stomped on the disc of his smashed remains a few times for good measure, then finished by raised her heel and ground her toes over him.  Once she was certain there was nothing identifiably human left on the mat, she stepped inside and ducked beneath the bar.  270 would be a good warmup set for her, and her blood was already pumping from the thrill of smashing someone.

Fulda breathed deep, inhaling the crisp autumn air.  Her Converse loudly slapped on the cobblestones with each step, making a pleasant echo as it bounced off the student center beside her.  She loved that sound – it made it easier for her to imagine she was enormous, and her footfalls were great cataclysms to the tiny people below her.  Leaves crunching under her feet added to the illusion, and she pictured they were cars screeching as she turned them into mangled piles of metal, or even whole buildings smashed to ruins.

 

With the weather getting colder she had needed to give up her trademark outfit in favor of something more practical.  While she kept her favorite shoes, she had eschewed her shorts in favor of leggings.  She was still able to show off her long, powerful legs, with the added bonus of emphasizing her tight butt, but now her smooth skin would not be covered in goosebumps at the slightest breeze.  Instead of a tank top she went with a T-shirt from the university’s store, though since they did not carry women’s sizes large enough for her it still clung tightly to her curves.  Her auburn hair fit the season well, and she elected to wear it down to show it off and let the thick, wavy strands bounce against her shoulder blades.  The foremost concern in her mind was how she would maintain her tan without resorting to a tanning booth, but she figured she would find a way.

 

“Excuse me, milady!” someone called from behind her.  Fulda spun around startled, not so much by the voice, but by the archaic form of address.  Her shining blue eyes locked onto the only person within a hundred feet of her, a chinless man wearing a black polo with khaki pants and a fedora that somehow matched none of his ensemble.  He was large, but instead of being a towering wall of muscle like her, he was simply slightly tall and fat.  His patchy beard was slick with oil from his face, and bright red pimples dotted his skin.

 

Fulda already regretted giving him attention, but it was too late to turn back now.  “Yes, what do you want?” she asked, doing her best to sound irritated.

 

“I was just wondering,” he began, “if it’s not too much trouble for you to tell me, do you perhaps have German ancestry?”  As he spoke, he pawed at his own fingers as though he were nervous about a conversation he had started.

 

“Yes, my family is German going back to when my great-grandparents immigrated in the 1800s,” she answered, doing her best to keep her eyes from rolling.  “Why do you ask?”

 

“I knew it!” he uttered to himself, though still loud enough for her to hear, and pumped his fist.  “I ask because, well, aside from the hair, which I understand only occurs occasionally in Prussian lands, you look like the ideal, pure Aryan woman.”

 

Fulda stared at him dumbfounded while her brain tried to process what he said.  “I’m sorry?” she finally managed.  She had heard him just fine, but the words made no sense.

 

“You have nothing to apologize for, milady.”  Fulda bit her lip to keep from bursting out laughing at being addressed like a lady in waiting so he could continue.  “In fact, due to your large frame, ample bosom, and wide birthing hips, you would make prime breeding stock, sure to sire a line of powerful warriors.”

 

“Breeding stock!” Fulda repeated.  There was a lot of garbage to focus on in that one sentence, but she decided to focus on the most offensive bit.  “And just who would I be breeding stock for, and why would I agree to be breeding stock?”

 

“For me and my friends, of course.”  The only thing that kept Fulda from laughing in his face was the idea that he might have a gun concealed somewhere on him or, more hilariously, a sword.  “With you providing children, we could stop the erasure of the white race and reassert our dominance.”

 

Fulda stepped toward him, watching to see if he reached for a weapon.  He simply tilted his head back to keep looking at her, so she figured he was unarmed.  This conversation had been forced on her, and she did not like where it was going, so she decided to cut right to the chase.  “You’re some sort of Nazi, aren’t you?”

 

“Of course not, milady, I-“

 

“Call me ‘milady’ again and that grease on your face is going to be painting the student center’s wall, got it?”

 

He was visibly shaken to be spoken to in this way by a woman.  “Yes, of course mi- of course.  No, I’m not a Nazi, I’m just someone who believes the white race is inherently superior over the eastern hordes rushing into our lands and thinks it’s time we did something about it.”

 

“So, a Nazi.  I think I’m going to enjoy this more than usual.”  Fulda focused on the man, and he seemed uneasy under her harsh gaze.  A second later he was gone, reduced to the size of a figurine at her feet.  While he looked around in confusion at what had just happened, Fulda leaned over and swiped a hand at him, snatching him up into her palm.  Normally she would be more mindful of the tiny person, but he had given her ample reason to not care.

 

She held the hand to her mouth and opened her fingers, then parted her lips.  The tiny white nationalist’s squeaky voice reached her ears, no doubt begging for his life, but Fulda was less inclined to listen than usual.  In most cases she would say something to tease them, but this time it seemed important to dispose of him as quickly as possible.  Her hand pitched forward, tossing the puny man out of her palm and into her mouth where he landed in the middle of her tongue.

 

Fulda tossed him to the side and clamped down on him with her molars.  While she strongly preferred swallowing men whole, she figured she could make an exception in this case.  She bit down, bursting the man’s lower body with her teeth, and the taste of copper spread throughout her mouth.  Her tongue slid over to receive him when she unclenched her jaw, and with a small flick what remained of him landed atop her gullet.  Saliva rushed toward him, and Fulda felt his weak, pathetic struggles against her throat muscles as she swallowed him.

 

Fulda smiled.  The grease would set her back, requiring an intensive workout tomorrow morning, but she knew it would be worthwhile.  She had eliminated a hateful individual, and with him in her belly he would not be able to spread his toxic ideology to anyone else.  With a firm pat on her tummy resumed her walk to the park, reveling in his progressively weaker struggles inside her.  Soon, he would be exactly what he preached.

It was a fine October night, the last Saturday of the month, and that meant one thing for Fulda: time to dress in a skimpy costume and get wasted at a Halloween party.  She had received over a dozen invitations, ranging from large frat parties to small groups of friends who “just knew” she would fit in, and had to narrow it down to just one.  Hopping between parties would invite trouble with campus security.  Several of them were easy to rule out due to the desperation of who asked her, and after some discussion with her friends they managed to agree on one.

 

Her costume was simple, and she doubted most people would pay it much mind anyway.  The sports bra for a shirt would only be an issue while she was outside, and the old jacket ought to make up for its shortcomings.  She had found some old leggings and cut them so they stopped just above her knees, making them look like ragged tatters at the bottom.  While she did not own any boxy boots, a quick trip to a thrift store and a few bucks fixed that, and in addition to completing her costume made her unusually obliged to stomp around.  A pair of tinfoil bolts affixed to her neck with weak adhesive completed the costume.  They would fall off within minutes, but for her, costumes were not the important part of the holiday.

 

Once Fulda arrived at the party it was easy for her to spot Helen.  She was wearing a powder blue dress with a plunging neckline and miniskirt-length hem, and her light blond hair was carefully straightened and arranged so it flowed down her back.  Fulda strode through the crowd toward her, pushing several people aside who were not smart enough to get out of the way.  Unsurprisingly, Helen had set up near one of the several punch bowls, and her half empty plastic cup showed signs of already being refilled at least once.

 

“Helen, you exceptionally tall glass of water!” she proclaimed, going for a hug.  When her arms had wrapped around the blond, she added, “I feel like I haven’t seen you for a whole week!”

 

“Oh look, it’s the jolly green giant!” Helen replied, squeezing her back.  After a quick embrace they parted, and Fulda immediately filled a cup with whatever was in the mixture beside her.  Helen gestured to a waifish woman a bit taller than she was standing next to her and said, “Fulda, I’d like you to meet Jacquelyn.”

 

Jacquelyn took costuming much more seriously than either of them.  Her bubblegum pink hair almost reached the ground, hopefully with the help of extensions, and it looked like her magenta blindfold had been custom designed to look like shutter shades, allowing her to still see.  A thick black choker accentuated her slender neck, and the black leather corset did what it could to accentuate her skinny figure, ending in a small, loose skirt.  Skin-tight leather boots came halfway up her thighs, and stiletto heels gave her the slight boost over Helen.

 

“Come on, you know I hate being called Jacquelyn!” she said.  “It’s too formal.  Please, call me Jackie.   Though tonight I guess I’m Rider.”  From her blank expression, it was obvious Fulda had no idea who or what that was.

 

“Don’t worry, it’s some sort of Japanime thing,” Helen explained, which answered none of Fulda’s questions.  “She explained it to me earlier and I don’t get it either.”

 

“You’re free to come over and watch it at any time!” Jackie chided, then turned to Fulda.  “Now, what are you supposed to be?”

 

“I figured these would make it obvious,” Fulda replied, pointing at the neck bolts.  That was when she learned they had fallen off on the walk here.  “Oh.  Well, I’m Frankenstein!  Fitting for my name, huh?”

 

“Actually, you’re Frankenstein’s monster,” someone butted in.  “Frankenstein was the scientist, and since you’re not wearing a lab coat, I doubt you’re him.”

 

The three of them turned to face the interloper, and Fulda’s lip curled up in disgust.  While she wanted to believe it was a wig, his dark hair was tightly curled and greasy, and it looked like he was wearing rags.  Even more confusing, he had made the bizarre choice of wearing shoes that made him look barefoot but with a full head of hair on his feet.  He may have been dressed as one of those thoroughly disgusting gremlins she had heard about, and it did not help to smooth over his rude introduction.

 

“Actually,” Fulda began, exaggerating his nasal voice to more effectively mock him, “the creation of Doctor Frankenstein can reasonably be considered his child, meaning he would take the surname Frankenstein as well.  Therefore, it would actually be accurate to refer to him as Frankenstein, too.”

 

“I’m not really sure that holds up to–“

 

Fulda shoved him and he hit the wall with a hollow thud.  She followed up, taking a long stride to close the distance and only leaving an inch between them.  Her hand kept him pinned against the wall while she glared down at him.  “Listen, twerp,” she started.  “The overwhelming message of Frankenstein is that humanity is the monster, not his creation, so if you want to get technical, it’s inaccurate to say that his creation is the monster to begin with.  Now, do you have any other hot takes or topics you’d like to mansplain to me?”

 

While he sputtered for a response Fulda glanced around.  With her wide frame between him and the rest of the room, the only people who could see what was happening were Helen and Jackie.  She had been hinting to Helen about her powers for the past month, and if she brought Jackie along it was a fair guess that she was cool.

 

Fulda focused on the invasive know-it-all, imagining that he was as small as he wanted to make her feel.  He rapidly dwindled, shrinking below her waist in a split second.  She smiled as he continued to diminish, and by the time he realized what was going on and tried to scream he had already reached his smallest size.  The ugly, beaten-up combat boots Fulda chose for this costume had thick soles, and he was nowhere near as tall as they were.

 

Before she could finish him off her limited audience spoke up.  “Whoa, you just shrank him!” Helen exclaimed, trying to keep her voice hushed.  Though they did not fully understand what was happening, it seemed natural to avoid drawing attention to it.

 

“That was so cool!” Jackie added.  It seemed she had chosen the right audience.

 

Fulda turned to face them but kept her right heel in the air.  “Yeah, I shrank him,” Fulda confirmed in a low voice, “and yes, it is cool.”  She slid her foot back over the carpet, positioning her heel over where the shrunken man should be.

 

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Helen asked.

 

“Yeah, me too!”

 

“Yeah, I guess I can,” Fulda answered.  She set her heel down, and felt the satisfying sensation of a body crunching beneath her boot.  Fulda paused to enjoy it, knowing that nobody heard his last scream of abject terror.  “But you have to promise to keep it, and what we do with it, a secret.”  She ground her heel on the floor, mashing what was left of the annoying man beyond recognition.

 

“You have my word,” Helen said solemnly.

 

“And mine,” Jackie confirmed.

 

Fulda knew she had chosen wisely by showing them.  Lessons could start tomorrow, though.  For now, she needed to get a drink or ten inside her.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you, and I look forward to working with you,” Fulda said, nodding to the woman across the table.  Lana nodded back, giving her an awkward smile, and Fulda got up to leave.  She brushed a strand of auburn hair out of her blue eyes and made for the door, her huge Converse crashing onto the floor with each step.  Her undershirt’s sleeves had begun riding up her muscular forearms, so she pulled them down before grabbing the door handle.

 

“Oh, could wait for me outside for a few minutes?” Lana asked.  “I just need to gather my things, and I’d like to talk more on the way out.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Fulda answered, yanking the door open.  She did not quite know what to make of Lana.  At just a few inches shorter than her, the dark-haired woman had the beginnings of a true giantess in her blood.  Not only that, but for the whole interview all she could talk about was how her life’s dream was to grow and shrink people.  However, she lacked the confidence of the other supremely tall women Fulda had met.  Maybe it was her waifish frame or the nerdy glasses, but even if she succeeded in her goal she would need extensive coaching for someone to believe she was a titaness like herself.

 

On her way out, Fulda nearly ran over one of her classmates walking in front of the door.  She caught his shoulder to keep him from falling, then made sure he was back on his feet before letting go.  Looking down, Fulda recognized him as he sheepishly tried to look away.  “Hey Don!” she said, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Long time no see!  Where’ve you been hiding these days?”  In the bushes, if the past behavior of men who got obsessed with her was any indication.

 

“Oh, hey Fulda,” he replied, trying not to look her in the eyes.  It was clear her height intimidated him even though most women were a good deal taller than he was.  “I’ve been around.  What brings you to this part of the library?  This area is usually frequented by, you know, art students.”

 

“I’m interviewing someone for my English comp class,” she responded.  “I got matched with some girl named Lana for this.  She’s pretty interesting!”

 

“Lana Ivanova?”

 

Fulda skipped a beat.  “Yeah.  How’d you guess?”

 

“Shot in the dark, she was in my freshman orientation group,” Don told her.  “She seemed a little… odd to me.”

 

“Odd?  How do you mean?”  Nothing too unusual had stuck out to Fulda during their conversation, so she wanted to know more.  Maybe Lana would even approve of her including it.

 

“Well, she’s… she seems obsessed with making people smaller,” Don answered.  “As you might imagine, I’m a little sensitive to that, and besides, it’s well-documented to be impossible.”

 

Fulda smacked her lips as she looked down at him, pondering what he said.  “What’s impossible?”

 

“Shrinking people.  In addition to the technical limitations, there’s the Square-Cube law, and the issue of where all the extra matter goes, and how you’d get anyone to agree to the trials in the first place.”

 

“Hold that thought,” Fulda said, pointing a finger down at him.  Luckily, there was no one watching, since he seemed to disappear in an instant.  To an astute observer – and Fulda’s keen eyes – however, he had been reduced to an absolutely puny size in front of Fulda.  She took a moment to enjoy looming over him, then asked, “How impossible does it seem now, huh?”

 

Just then, the door opened and Lana strode through it.  Fulda watched her curiously, wondering where her feet would land, though Don did not have the same sense of wonder.  He immediately started running in the other direction, trying to escape the two gigantic women.  His tiny legs could only carry him so fast, however, and Lana’s simple yet stylish flat landed right on him.  She continued on, leaving a red smear in her wake, then turned to Fulda.

 

“So, want to continue the interview?” she asked.  “I think we have a lot more to talk about, and the café’s got some decent coffee.”

 

“Yeah, we sure do.”  Fulda would not tell her about the man she had just unknowingly murdered.  It was a lot for someone to take in, and she did not feel comfortable springing that on someone after one conversation.  Plus, it would open up a lot of other questions, like liability and blame, that she wanted nothing to do with.  There was enough to discuss without bringing squishing tiny people into the mix.

Don looked up in horror at Fulda, suddenly hundreds of feet tall, and wondered what he could do.  There was no doubt she had caused this; the timing was too perfect.  He was shorter than her damn shoes, and so long as she was looking at him, he doubted he could get away.  This was a hell of a way to make a point, but she had made it quite clearly.

 

The enormous door opened and Lana stepped through it, her long legs covering a tremendous amount of ground with each step.  When her feet hit the ground the floor shook, and he felt a pit growing in his stomach.  Fulda knew he was there and had only shrunk him to prove a point.  Lana had no idea, and, as far as he was concerned, posed the greater threat to his safety.

 

He bolted away from Lana, trying to put as much space between them as possible.  She could easily smash him, and if her foot ended up over him, he would have no chance.  As he ran, he leapt over small irregularities in the tile, left there to give a bit of contour.  If he ran too far, he worried Fulda would not be able to find him to grow him back, but that was secondary to getting out of Lana’s way.

 

A shadow engulfed him, and he knew he had failed.  Don looked back to see the smooth, beaten sole of Lana’s black flat looming over him, and he futilely raised his hands in protection.  Lana swung her shoe down, and with a loud crack it hit the floor.  In an instant, he was nothing more than a red smudge spread between her shoe and the tile, and after tonight’s cleaning he would not even be that much.  So far, he had mostly been a non-entity at university, and he doubted many people would even notice he was gone.  With one footstep, Lana had consigned him to non-existence, and the only person who could change that had no reason to say anything.