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A Paramouth Sequel Commission - Written by Ty

Isaiah tapped his pen incessantly against the washed up denim on his thigh. He wasn’t staring anywhere in particular, just passively watching the other park denizens enjoy the public space more than he was. A couple of teens kicking it by the bathrooms situated near the small creek running west along the main walkway, a mother and her two kids on the jungle gym, some friends playing tennis, and several joggers and stragglers coming and going as they pleased.

Seated at a picnic table with benches on both sides, his front faced the more situated facilities while his back looked away from the sprawling natural landscape that drew people to this sanctuary at the city’s center. Isaiah’s head rested in his up-turned hand, cupping his jaw and cheek, occasionally letting his eyes wander down to the notebook opened on the table before forcing his mind back to the sights.

He needed the distraction. Why he brought his notes in the first place was beyond him. Perhaps it was a nervous compulsion? Still, he came here to get away from his work. His roommate suggested as much, just short of recommending he drop his thesis research for a whole week to go on a proper trip. Somewhere outside the city if he could swing it.

There was still so much left to do. He couldn’t excuse such a gaping retreat from his responsibilities. Not even a day of lost progress was acceptable. So he found a compromise, taking the afternoon off to calm his mind and decompress. He'd explore the city on a less hectic weekday, after general work hours and before the nightlife could set in. The twilight where he was most at ease navigating the throng of strangers from whom he generally preferred excluding himself.

That was how he ended up in Enterprise Park, at a lonely table for just him and his thoughts. This still brought to question why he’d brought his notebook in the first place, but keeping his mind occupied on people watching was a suitable alternative to surrendering to academic anxiety.

Seeing how other people spent their early evening was only a small comfort to his weary mind, imagining how little most of the strangers he observed had to worry about, or even just how different their own struggles were relative to him. Good or bad, he let the theories play out in his head like small dramas. Often he wondered whether people could read him as easily as he felt he could read them.

Would they be able to tell he was a student? A doctoral candidate at that? Would they know he was the first generation of his family to actually attend university? Could they tell that even with these positive attributes, he was even now on the verge of dismissal if he couldn’t devise a suitable thesis topic to dedicate himself to for the next two years of his life? After all the positive accolades and promising acumen he demonstrated through undergrad and the beginning of his med school career, it could all crash over him if he couldn’t make a decision, and soon…

He shook his head with a shiver, his shaggy, sandy hair waving around in the light breeze. Those thoughts weren’t any help. He was here to forget those worries, if only for an afternoon. His blue eyes returned to people watching. He turned around, seeing if anything could pull his attention on the main trail following the water behind him.

At this time of day the park was nearly deserted, even for such a populated city. Still, one person caught his eye, approaching the region of the park in which he was seated. A young woman with tan skin and dark, chocolatey hair, cut to just above her shoulders. She struck a pronounced image from a distance, carrying herself with a casual boldness that gave her full sway of her trajectory. Not someone to get out of the way of somebody coming the other direction, he imagined. And yet, this wasn’t criticism, rather an acknowledgment of the comfortable confidence she exerted. Add on a cool outfit and a healthy, fit figure, Isaiah found himself watching her stride longer than he should’ve.

Long enough for the woman to feel his attention and her eyes to look his way. As soon as they met, he stiffened, then attempted to focus on any number of points around her, not on her. In his head, he knew the ‘pretending-to-look-anywhere-else’ bit generally never convinced anyone. He feigned satisfaction that, indeed, he wasn’t looking anywhere in particular, then turned back to the table. His cheeks flushed, embarrassed at his own insensitivity. Most likely she’d just go on with her walk and not pay any mind to the peeper.

Despite his shame, he found her image a refreshing one. He imagined a scenario in which he had the guts to get up and say hi, or any circumstance that would facilitate an organic introduction. Somehow, he’d pull some kind of charming line out of his ass. She’d smile, reciprocate, then he’d introduce himself. He’d get her name, whatever it might be, it had to be as approachable and charming as she was.

Isaiah sighed, lost in his imagination, even as he unconsciously stared down into his notes. He wasn’t aware of the gravelly steps approaching from the path.


The hair dryer whirred loudly against the marble walls and mirror, blasting hot air through the dark damp locks Kat ran her fingers through. She was fresh from the shower, a classy gray towel tightened around her chest and waist. Her smooth tan skin refreshed from the wash after a long day in the sun. Her calves ached, though she relished the tightness she knew were reflected in the musculature of her leg. She twisted her heel out, appreciating her form, or rather her progress. Not quite where she wanted to be physically, but she’d take the win. Right now, her legs looked like they were on track to kick a man’s head off. Or crush a melon between her thighs.

Kat smirked, an entertaining thought that would demand some trial later. In the bedroom, she heard the rustling of clothes and general motion. Taylor was getting ready himself, as he had somewhere to actually be. She turned off the hairdryer, letting her full hair come to rest just above her shoulders. She considered putting it up in a ponytail, then decided against it, anticipating the chance to dry it in the cool evening.

The lights turned off as she left the bathroom, and found her man tying his shoes while sat at the foot of her bed. He looked up as he sensed her enter, defaulting to his usual wide grin, “Hey Kitten.”

“Tank~” she returned his own pet name, crossing him as she strutted to the dresser, understanding the small show she put on for him all the while, “You didn’t hold off on the shirt for my benefit, did you?”

He chuckled, “Naw, actually. I realized I didn’t bring anything besides my shirt for the hike.” He raised a hand in defeat, gesturing to the pile of far sweatier clothes he’d thrown off before his own shower. In the guest bathroom, of course.

Katarina considered this issue, turning away to open up her drawers and get her own outfit together, “Don’t you have your uniform at work? Just wear the old one ‘til you’re there.”

“Yeah,” he accepted she had a point, though grimaced at smelling the dirty laundry pile, “I just don’t want to stink heading in, ya know? Just washed up and all.”

“Okay princess,” she grinned, relishing the embarrassed face he must’ve been making behind her. After finding a pair of briefs and ankle socks, she opened up her folded shirts and dug in the back for a second before pulling out an older, baggier piece. She tossed it to the bed behind her, “Try this, should fit well enough.”

He received the tee curiously, holding it up at level with his broad shoulders. The shirt was at least a large, though not quite enough for his bulk, “Uh, should I ask why you have a men’s large? This yours?”

Kat hadn’t considered the reason for his concern while grabbing a tank top for herself, then realized her foul soon enough, “Oh, no, that’s just some guys. Trust me, he’s long gone. Don’t even remember his name.”

“Ah…” he paused to ponder the implications of her equally blunt and ambiguous explanation, “So how many guys' shirts do you have?”

Kat shrugged after finding a pair of jeans she thought would feel nice and tight around her legs to compensate for their soreness after their morning hike, “Dunno. A few? They just kinda turn up.”

“Oh…” she smirked, it was amusing how quickly his mood shifted, like her own human Labrador.

She turned to him with her winning smile, holding her chosen outfit and slinking to the bed, “Aww… You know, I’m well in my right to have had some fun over the years before you came along.”

She meant for the comment to be playful, though it only invited deeper thought into his furrowed brow, “I mean… you don’t see me as just another guy, right?”

Kat stopped, looking up to the hulking softie, now thinking maybe she’d gone too far. She reached a hand over, rubbing his shoulder thoughtfully, “I dunno, you’re still here. Aren’t ya?”

He didn’t answer, though instinctively softened at her warm touch.

Kat sighed, “Look, we’ve been doing this for a month now, yeah? That’s more than a fling in my book, so you’re doing fine. Alright?”

He thought about it for a minute, though maybe just found himself caught up in her reassuring gesture alone until he smirked back, “Yeah, alright.”

She smiled in turn, “Cool!... Now turn please.”

He did as she said, chuckling to himself remembering her preference for modesty, “Ya know, we’ve seen each other naked already. Do I really gotta-?”

“If you don’t mind, big guy.” Her smirk lasted until she dropped her towel before she started dressing. Truthfully, she saw his point, though took minor satisfaction in the small disciplines she could enforce. Her underwear and bra on, she sat down on the bed to put on her socks. Doing so, she looked over to him. He was now putting on the shirt she gave him, his traps and deltoids flexing appealingly as he squeezed the two sizes too small top over his mass. Now was her turn to enjoy a show, and she wasn’t disappointed. Pulling on her jeans, she appraised the tightness of their fit as well as how tightly the shirt clung to his sculpted form, his work as a trainer more than exemplified by his proud build. Not so jacked that he was a behemoth, but an expertly curated, healthy body that any model would be envious of.

‘Glad I never ate him,’ she thought mischievously to herself. Sure, the thought had crossed her mind since the day they met. Granted, she was already occupied at the time of their meeting. Still, when she made the rare call to actually accept his invite for a drink, she found herself oddly charmed by the handsome oaf. He wasn’t a peer in terms of intelligence, but he kept her active in more ways than one. It was odd seeing the same guy for so long, even introducing him to her friends on the odd occasion they met up.

Yet, every date, every night spent together, every time they’d fuck, the itch came back. She’d taken several opportunities to sample his taste, much to his initial confusion turned enthusiasm for her unique brand of affection. With so many tastes, she knew how delicious he’d be. Such a meaty, full body she’d absolutely savor for as long as humanly possible before sending him like so many others to her most truly intimate depths…

Then again, he was funny. And cute, and encouraged her to do more with her life than just work and work out. Well, more than he was aware of. Her tank top on, she walked back into his line of sight, sitting next to him and pulling her arm around his waist to his welcome surprise.

“Thank you hun, you know I appreciate it,” she laid the warm, nurturing tone on thick for his sake.

As always, he took the bait, “O-of course, baby.” He returned the gesture, wrapping his far bigger arm around her shoulders.

As he embraced her, she repressed the instinct to flinch. It wasn’t unwanted, she’d never admit that. Really, it was the subtle body language that unsettled her. The effect of him having this slight sway over her.

“Tay,” she started, staring ahead, “do me a favor.”

He nodded, so she continued, “Go ahead and kneel in front of me.”

His blonde brow raised, but he obeyed. Pivoting his closer leg to take stance on his knee in front of her, his raised leg just barely touching her calf. He looked into her eyes expectantly, wondering where this was coming from. She stared, her expression in deep thought, raising a hand to his cheek and brushing it tenderly. Her gaze was primal, heavy with implicit intent, and he had fought off the shiver that ran down his spine from her intense, unwavering attention.

Kat’s mind was elsewhere entirely. She could entirely tell what was running through his thoughts, making her own all the more delectable. What a night that would be, no… will be, when she decides he’s done. She’d make it special for him, show him the night of his life before slipping his exhausted, grateful body between her pink lips, savoring him like the exquisite specimen he was, then wipe his life away with a swallow, never to see or hear from him again…

She pouted, “Nah, not yet.”

Taylor’s building intrigue was dashed, entirely unaware of her deeper meaning outside of his own understanding of the exchange, “Eh, oh…”

Kat’s smile returned, amused by his reaction then leaning in for a quick kiss. Her skin was still warm from the steamy shower, gracing his lips with the toasty, hot care only a woman like her could affect. She pulled away with a snarky grin, “I mean, I would; but c’mon, don’t you have work?”

His eyes bulged, “Sh-shit! Right,” he laughed in return, ending the moment on a light note.

Her low laugh complemented his nicely, another positive in her book, “‘Kay, I need to get made up, then we out. Ten minutes good?”

“Yeah, I’ll get a shake goin’,” he stood, making his way for the door to the apartment proper, “You want one?”

“Naw, I’ll grab something while I’m out,” she responded, making her way to the bathroom.

She never used too much makeup. Wearing more than she needed always made her feel stuffy. Just some light foundation over her already smooth complexion, light touches around her eyes to make the green in her irises pop, then a subtle shade of lipstick to enhance her natural pink shade without caking it.

Taylor was pouring his shake by the time she was done, a single look was all he needed to know she was ready to head out.

Before that, he stopped her midway to the lift while checking his pockets for his essentials, “Ya know, I had fun today.”

She quirked a brow before he elaborated, “I mean, it’s rare we get to hang out in the day, ya know? It’s nice.”

Kat got his point, smiling fondly, “Yea, been a while since I’ve had a good hike. Glad you took me~”

She’d called the elevator when she finished. Her building consisted of luxury loft apartments, each floor a complete unit with a keycode-required elevator as the only way in or out.

Once the lift arrived, they both entered as Taylor continued, “I mean, you're always working, it’s cool getting to have an actual day together. Not just, uh…”

“Dinner, drinks, and a fuck?” she chided playfully, challenging him with a quirked brow.

Her comment flustered him as intended, “Y-yeah, the usual.” He rubbed his head modestly, a quirk she found hideously adorable.

“Still, I guess like… it’s cool being more a part of your life.”

“Uh huh,” she answered politely.

“Like, working everything around your schedule. I appreciate you setting aside a day just for us,” he said, noticing that she was starting to close off from his probing.

“Me too.” She brushed her hair behind her ear as the elevator opened. They both politely waved to the doorman as they stepped out into the streets, the sun beginning to set over the city as they started their walk to the gym, talking idly about nothing in particular. At the least, they held hands as they traveled, giving the impression of their couple status as they blended in with the sidewalk traffic.

After a few blocks, they were at their gym. As Taylor attempted to head on in, he realized Katarina held back. Turning to her, hands still held, he raised his brows in patient curiosity, “You alright?”

She gritted her teeth, “Don’t think I’m going in tonight.”

“R-really?” Taylor was surprised, though checked himself to regard her with a willingness to understand, “You never skip the gym?”

“Dude, we just spent six hours hiking,” she laughed, pointing out what she thought would be obvious, “I know you’re here for your job and all, but I have zero stamina left in me.”

“Seem fine to me,” he closed the small gap between them, “It’s never stopped you before, at least. Stamina and whatnot.”

“Cheeky, cheeky,” her grin matched his, tilting herself up to meet his lips for a brief, promising kiss. Pulling back, her eyes angled up at him with her mouth and nose exhaling over his tee-covered chest, “I figured I’d go for a walk instead. Decompress a bit, then we can meet up after your sessions.”

Taylor was anything but immune to her doe-eyed attentiveness, nodding dumbly with energy in his baby blue irises, “Y-yeah, awesome!”

Kat smiled cooly, squeezing his hand as she drew herself away, “Then see ya later, Tank.”

“Be safe, Kitten.” For a moment, the sincerity of his goodbye might have warmed her heart. Once he was inside, being sure to wear her gushiest smile as she walked off herself, the facade dropped as soon as she was out of sight. Her eyes were on the people she passed and the path ahead, charting her course through the urban landscape.

At the base of her intentions for the night, she was honest in her desire to go for a walk. What happened beyond that was a matter of circumstance and luck. Observing the pedestrians crossing her path, she’d always drawn a certain amount of attention to herself either way. She hadn’t dressed to the nines by any means, but her sylphlike congeniality radiated across the pavement like the last rays of the sunset peeking through the skyline.

Kat took pride in her appearance for good reason. She worked hard for it, though embraced a general rejection of traditional femininity in her often tomboyish attire. The girliest thing she had on was likely her flats, which provided an appealing contrast to her light tank top, brown leather jacket, and dark jeans ensemble. The smallest hint of her abdomen peaked from below the hem of her top, a tantalizing invitation for onlookers to imagine what was underneath her casual exterior. You’d never hear from her whether it was intentional or not, or the way she sauntered by as if leaving a trail of her caramel-scented body wash in her wake. All that mattered was creating the illusion of casual excitement. Presenting herself as someone approachable, desirable; someone you could picture everything with from having a drink together to spending your life with her.

Many returned her eye contact while passing, some even close to stopping in case her gaze was some invitation worth pursuing. Still she walked on, warming up for her true purpose.

She’d brought an applicator, of course, nestled neatly in her front jacket pocket. A dangerous tool that demanded the utmost care when handling, especially while casually carrying it around. Normally she’d keep them in her purse or bag, though she’d brought neither with her tonight. Part of her considered the error this posed, whether she’d be able to make a clean catch without something to steal away her victim's belongings was always a point of concern. The solution: pick someone with a bag. As she passed cafes and coffee shops, she’d see several students busy at work on their laptops or reading either for their studies or for pleasure. She pursed her lips into a thoughtful pout, unwilling to strike in a crowded shop. Maybe if it were a less populated joint, an opportunity could present itself. Unlikely in the city, unfortunately.

In the meantime, she played a mental game. Halted at a crosswalk with traffic moving at a sluggish pace before her, a woman was stopped to her side. On a whim, Kat pictured what circumstance might facilitate a clean catch with this stranger. Maybe, if no one was looking, she could simply touch the applicator to the woman’s neck and have her diminished in the span of ten seconds. Well, ten to seventeen, depending on many factors discovered in recent tests. The subject’s body type, weight, gender, immune system, etc. Then, it’d be a point of slipping her into her pocket and moving on.

She turned her head to the woman, then subtly frowned. They hardly seemed appetizing enough to pull such a bold move. Tired wrinkles framing an already sagging face for someone in their late forties made for an unsavory presentation. The effort for such a bold manuveur would hardly be worth it, not to mention the loose clothes and bag to deal with.

The walk sign lit, and she continued. Further down the road, there was a tall, lanky man sat waiting on a bench outside a nice Chinese bistro, a small bouquet seated next to him. Her imagination was piqued, wondering if he was there for a date. With a girlfriend? His wife? Maybe a first meeting? Maybe he was going in to declare his feelings for someone. Then again, he could also be a delivery guy. As Kat approached the bench, she realized the ‘nice’ clothes he was wearing were somewhat slapdash. Wrinkled, clashing designs, doing no favors for the early signs of age on his naive face.

She kept going; no chance she’d get away with a walk-by. For each soul she assessed and eventually passed on, it was a case of evaluating their vulnerability, their isolation, and most importantly, how tasty they looked.

It was maddening. Not just now, but everywhere she went. She’d been at this long enough where she felt confident gauging the quality and flavor of every person she met just on sight. Life opens up many possibilities when the entire population is suddenly on a menu they don’t know about.

‘Not for long,’ she thought to herself, a grim reminder of a trajectory she’d set in motion. Now arriving at Enterprise Park, a quaint little refuge at the center of the city, she focused her attentiveness on the far more sparse occupants of the lightly wooded, grass-filled area.

There was a baseball game finishing up at the public diamonds, parents cheering on their kids to make the smallest of athletic achievements. Kat ignored these, moving along the main path beyond the outdoor gym. No one was here, likely preferring their exercise in the sun or indoors. She’d admired plenty of hunks who usually made their rounds here, even brought one home in the past. Of course, they never had the choice to go with her or not, but she counted that as a win. He was particularly savory.

Crossing the halfway point, the lack of people on their own was disheartening, already strategizing where to scout next. Waiting for the sun to set and the clubs to open normally served her well. Often she could easily rouse some eager guy to a secluded alley or sidestreet to do the deed, then make off with her toy for the night.

Reaching the end of a long stretch through the park's central path, she felt a familiar rise on the back of her neck. Like she was being watched. She looked toward a hill farther down along the creek, spotting a young man who instantly turned away in shame. Kat chuckled inwardly, taking her turn to assess. She couldn’t get much of his looks from so far away, but she could tell he was alone. Next to him was a backpack; a jansport, limp and mostly empty save for what must’ve been on the table in front of him.

Her flats crunched over the coarse dirt blanketing the trail leading up to his table, a fairly recluse point of the park she’d sometimes visit herself. At least, back when she had time to herself like this. The trees had grown taller since her last visit, with denser foliage that swayed somberly under the dim orange hues of the sky.

She could tell he was a student, the Uni hoodie he wore was evidence enough. His intense focus over the notebook he'd opened in front of him was equally telling, along with the generally stressed, disheveled body language he wore like a trauma victim. He was also young; not a kid, but younger than Kat by a few years at least. She could see it in his boyish features, and his long sandy hair.


Kat approached the bench opposite him with swift confidence, sliding herself fluidly into his field of view before he could register her approach. By the time she saw the blue in his eyes up close, she was already crossing her arms on top of the park table, leaning forward amiably with a bright grin, “Hey!”


Isaiah’s blood chilled, the girl had actually come! So many worst-case scenarios went through his mind. Her smile only confirmed those silent fears. Why else would she have come with such dangerous, probing eyes if not to scold him for watching her? Sure, maybe that would be an extreme reaction for someone who could easily shrug it off and be on their way, but being approached at all introduced too many abnormal possibilities.

“Ehh, umm…” He didn’t have any words, desperate to intuit a reason that would illuminate her purpose for approaching him. All the while her piercing viridian gaze bore into him, seated within perfect almond slits on her pretty tanned face, framed by two lovely curtains of dark, edgy hair. Her posture teased her collarbone and the slightest glimpse of her chest into view, pushed forward by her crossed arms. His heart fluttered unexpectedly, to the point he hadn’t uttered any kind of response to her greeting.

As it turned out, she didn’t need him to, “Uh, you okay? Hope I didn’t spook ya.” The girl leaned back, laughing bashfully with a less eccentric demeanor.

“...N-no, you’re good,” he stammered, collecting himself while she gave him the chance to do so. “... can I help you with something?”

She smiled. It was a cool, charismatic grin that could melt any man. She reminded him of the older girls in his past he used to pine for when he was younger, but never had the guts or experience to tackle, “Well, can start with your name if you like. That’s usually how people do these things, right?”

She uncrossed her arms, reaching over the table with her strong, smooth hand outstretched, “I’m Katarina! Er, Kat really.”

It took a breath for him to finally take her appearance at face value: a friendly greeting. Shyly, he smiled in turn and extended his own hand to grab hers, “I-Isaiah. Isaiah Jo-”

“Let’s stick with first names,” she chuckled, shaking his hand fondly. Her touch was so soft, yet firm. When she broke the shake, his unconscious mind almost lamented the loss of contact.

“Uh, sure! I guess,” he played along, moving his notes aside to dedicate his attention to the newcomer, “Have I seen you around anywhere? Or-”

“Likely not. I don’t get out much, unless we’re counting that chance encounter from across the way,” she jokingly pointed a finger to the path she’d come from, reminding him of his slight faux pas.

“Y-yeah, sorry about that. I was just kinda looking and-”

“No worries, man,” she leaned forward again, clasping her fingers together and resting her petite chin on them, “I’m used to it. And frankly, not used to getting ogled by a nice guy for once.”

Kat raised a brow, a question playing on her lips, “You are a good guy, yeah?”

‘Holy shit! Is she flirting?’

“Eh- I’d like to think so? At least, I’m not a bad guy… maybe?” his words came out with a nervous undertone lacing each syllable, his eyes darting anywhere but toward the impressive girl in front of him.

“Well, you’re a student, so you’re doing something with your life at least,” she noted, pointing to his hoodie, “Howard Med, am I right?”

“Y-yeah. Second year, actually” The recognition was always a point of pride, one he happily elaborated on, “You an alum?”

“Naw, but I work with the Science Department for my work. Not often, but whenever we need the extra facilities.”

“Oh! So you’re R&D?” getting into a professional topic was a welcome shift for him, letting his academic side shine.

She smirked, shaking her head to herself like she’d said too much before leaning in with a wink, “That’s classified, hun.”

Right back to flustering him, so this is how she was gonna play, “Uhh… cool! I’m, uh, looking to get into nuclear medicine.”

“What?” she exclaimed, genuinely surprised while sliding her hands to her lap, “That’s a thing?”

“Heh, yeah, but it’s less impressive than you think,” he blushed, charmed by her interest, “It’s a subdiscipline of radiology that just goes a bit more in-depth.”

“Okay, so cat scans and stuff?” her face wore an infectious curiosity that Isaiah couldn’t help but find cute worn on such a blunt, confident girl.

“Kinda? It’s like a special kind of x-ray we call nuclear imaging that gives us a much clearer picture inside the body, but includes working with some hazardous materials to operate.”

“Huh, so more next level stuff,” She pivoted her weight to balance on her left arm, her torso curving up to her skewed shoulder span and accentuating her right hip to him under the edge of her jacket, “What got you into that? Can’t imagine it was easy.”

“N-no, it’s rough. But I figured it was kind of a guaranteed career, ya know? Less competition in the job market.”

He chose his words strategically, though she caught on to the underlying meaning, “Not something you’re super passionate about though?”

“Uh,” he stammered, set aside by her directness, “...N-not really. It’s interesting, but I just wanted something to make life a little easier after school.”

“Why?” she wasn’t mincing words, leaning forward on the table, resting her cheek on her upturned fist, “If you’re not into what you’re doing, why put in the effort?”

He paused, regretting how deep this light conversation had gone. Yet, he wasn’t opposed to being honest with this stranger. Especially given her unbiased- and desirable- perspective.

“...So, I’m the first of my family to go to college, actually. Wanted it to be worthwhile, do right by them.” He shrugged, adopting a sentimental gaze as he stared to the side, “Figured picking a career that couldn’t possibly fail would better my odds.”

“Awww,” she teased, a slight twinkle in her eyes at his wholesome answer, “That’s pretty cool, man.”

“Th-thanks.” He blushed, despite wanting to keep his cool. Clearly a losing fight against someone so far out of his league, “And what about you? What’d you study?”

Kat smiled, winking again with a finger against her lips to nail it home, “Classified.~”

“Right, right,” he said, slightly put off by her repeated deflection.

She noticed this right away, then stood up as if to leave, speaking as she moved, “Okay, sooo…”

He wondered why she’d leave so abruptly when he realized she was coming around the table, next to where he sat at the end of the bench once opposite her. He could see the dark line of her waist pop out under her top, then forced his eyes to stay on hers while she closed the distance between them. Even so, her movement was exaggerated, slow, and overwhelmingly seductive as she finally stood directly next to him. Her green eyes maintained his gaze, eyeing him knowingly with a heavy layer of promise.

“I was thinking about getting some coffee, at this little shop a block away,” she started, her words laced with a crinkling, alluring warmth, “and I was wondering if you might want to join me? My treat.”

“R-right now?”

“Mhm! Get to know each other. What d’ya say?~”

Isaiah didn’t know if this was really happening. This kind of thing only goes down on tv or in movies. Who was this girl, and why was she so interested in a guy she barely knew? Standing above him, his head level with her midriff at best, she was so clearly beyond his pay grade, likely capable of getting any guy she wanted. So why ask him out? Was that even what she was doing? Part of him wanted so desperately to believe this proposition was genuine.

“Th-thank you,” he started, hiding the flush of red in his cheeks, “b-but maybe some other time. Have a lot on my mind right now.” As he said it, a quiet sense of pride cut through his disappointment in himself as a bead of sweat raced down this temple. “Still, I’d love to get your number. I-if you wanna stay in touch?”

She didn’t answer right away, lost in thought for a moment likely contemplating his response. Enough time for things sink in. He just rejected the hottest girl who’d ever approached him. His male instinct now screamed through his nerves to take it back, though his honor stuck to his initial decision. Ultimately, he felt awful, “Sorry, I just don’t-”

“It’s cool,” she shrugged her shoulders, “Gotta say though, I’m not actually the ‘stay in touch’ kinda person. So let’s try again.”

This time, she actually pushed herself into him, forcing him to shuffle further along the bench to let her straddle where he’d initially sat. Her strong thighs spread over the concrete seat, she placed one hand on the table, the other lifting to his cheek, cupping it tenderly. “Coffee?”

Isaiah’s heart didn’t know if it could take the conflicting hormones running rampant in his body. Feeling her so close to him, the warmth seeping into the chill night air, the smell of something sweet and spicy infused in each inhale. Proverbially, she had him cornered, like a lioness going in for the kill.

At this point, he understood she wasn’t really looking for a date. She wanted something carnal, something intimate. This situation was a far departure from anything he’d experienced, even in his own dating life. If all she wanted was a temporary fling, why say no? Was there a catch?

While he contemplated these raging possibilities, her free hand slipped into her jacket pocket, pulling out what looked like a sealed condom.

“I-I-I’m not sure,” he said, his words trembling, “Sorry. That’s just not something I… do.”

He figured she’d be angry, then leave shortly after. Instead, she smiled, as if proud of his solidarity.

“Huh. You really are one of the good ones.”

Before he could ask what she meant, he felt her hand clasp around his own, and a sudden sharp prick into his skin. He gasped, like being bite by some kind of bug, pulling away from her while she brought back the condom-looking object to her jacket.

“What was that for?!” he yelped, his voice cracking in shock over the entirely unexpected attack.

“What’s what?” Kat inquired, tilting her head, as if oblivious to her part in what just hurt him.

“S-something just-” he mumbled, his lips not quite gelling with his desire to speak, “I-I can’t… ugnh…” His head was throbbing. Isaiah brought his hands up to support himself while grinding dizziness washed into his head from his body.

Whatever was happening, his adrenaline was ready to push him on. He shot up off the bench, stepping forward to move away from whatever was threatening him.

“Hey! Hey, easy,” Kat stood as well, holding his arm and guiding him back to a seat, “It’s alright bud, just sit down. Let it pass.” She rubbed his arm, a small comfort amidst the torrent of neural crisis.

Isaiah clenched his teeth, a throbbing pain now spreading more freely than fresh air, “C-call an ambulance! I’m having a-!”

“Shh! Shhhh, I got you…” she whispered hastily.

He couldn’t think anymore. He fell back to the bench, leaning into Kat as she comforted him through this seizure. The confusion and fear congealed into panicked acceptance. He just wished this wave of horror would quickly pass.

At least someone was with him. As the world began to slide away, he tried repeating the mantra in his mind, ‘This will pass, this will pass, this will pass…”

Sure enough, the fog cleared, and Isaiah blinked cautiously to find he could breathe freely again. Still dizzy from whatever had come over him, he groaned while rubbing his head before opening his eyes… to darkness.

He found himself in a smooth cave, a light warmth radiating in the atmosphere that weighed heavily on the air he inhaled. Coughing briefly, he squinted to follow the one thread of light he could spy at the end of a far crevasse, and began making his way over.

“The fuck is-... Hello!?” he called out. No echo, not like any natural cave. His confusion mounted. A quiet, budding fear palpated his heart with every step. Or each step he attempted to make; the ground was anything but solid. It appeared to be made of some cloth or tarp, far too thick to bend but loose enough to shift in response to his weight.

He gave in and fell on all fours to navigate his way out of the tent or cave to which he’d been transported.

Only halfway to the only visible light did he recognize the smell. Heavy body odor , with just a hint of sweat. It was close to making him retch. But there was another element to the stench; his own. It was the smell one finds on their pillow or clothes after weeks or years of use, the smell that doesn’t go away even after a wash.

This knowledge was a subconscious comfort, yet still a concerning one. Why did this cavern smell like him? Where did he go? Soon, something would have to make sense.

Breaking through the minute crease in the heavy fabric, he finally made it outside, where at last he could breathe cool, fresh air once more. He’d been sweating since the panic attack, desperately looking around for any clue to his whereabouts with pained breaths.

“Heeey! There you are,” the air itself vibrated with the alien words ringing in Isaiah’s ears. He fell to his side away from the explosion of sound, his eyes finally darting around to take in the first tangible details he could process beyond the fabric pile he was on.

Firstly, a looming hill of denim stood at the base of a towering cliff face of light fabric over some monolith. The light coming from behind the high peak and plateau above blinded him to its true nature until even that was blotted out by an oncoming beast.

Isaiah cried out as brownish serpents collapsed around him in the blink of an eye, crushing his body in a powerful grip that easily tore him from the hardly tangible ground he’d barely come to grips with. Now in the clasp of something monstrous, he pushed back against the giving but firm clutches of the hydra that claimed him, shoving his legs and arms against every ridged surface around him.

His world flipped over, permitting the twilight’s rays to illuminate this horrible dream into which he’d been mysteriously transported. None of this should be possible; he was supposed to be at a park. He was supposed to be enjoying some unexpectedly pleasant company. Where the hell was he now?

Looking up from the tan field where he was sitting on revealed the truth. Staring down at him from the haze was a pair of bright, emerald eyes. They were Impossibly massive, yet unmistakable. Isaiah shivered, crawling backward away from the penetrating orbs until realizing the slope behind him quickly became too steep for him to climb. He trembled against the warm surface all the same as if melding into the wall was better than facing whatever horror had captured him.

Only, it wasn’t a monster. The closer he looked, the more he began to make out a face. It was a charming face with a defined jaw curtained by stylish dark hair. Along with the set of eyes were a nose and a pair of amused lips, both in proportion to the rest of the enormous face.

Kat’s face. He was looking at the amplified, collosal semblance of the girl with whom he’d been talking for just the last few minutes. But how? Where could he be that something so immense could exist?

“You doin’ alright there?” It spoke. No, She had spoken! Isaiah had no grasp of anything anymore, though his mind slowly edged towards the only logical conclusion he could qualify.

“Hello? Didn’t scramble ya too much, did I?”

“D-did you…” he stammered incoherently, the knowledge that he was being addressed by such an enormous person was inconceivable, “y-y-you were… you did this t-to-?”

Her face lit up hearing his meager speech, pulling back several yards in an instant as she simply moved her head farther from what was no doubt her hand holding him, “Cool! That’s happened a few times recently, so hopefully this means I’ve worked out that kink.”

“The hell are you talking about?” The clouds in his head were slowly clearing, mentally equipping himself to address the situation while no less terrified by the implications.

“Well, I could tell you straight up, but I know you’re smarter than that,” she grinned, each of her teeth now about half his height by estimate and far more threatening as a result, “C’mon, guess!”

“Uhh…” she was right, of course; he could guess the gist of his condition. Looking away from the blown up yet still smooth contours of her face, he saw the scope of what was once a normal park and trees surrounding the horizon of her palm.

“Y-you… you shrunk m-”

“Yup!” she chirped, the typhoon of her preppy exclamation blowing away the rest of his thoughts.

“B-but how? This isn’t possible!?” Isaiah’s confusion bubbled to the surface now that he had the back and forth to accommodate the questions storming through his head.

Her expression took a smug turn watching him with an air of knowing superiority, “I told you; that’s classified.”

“S-so turn me back! Whatever it is you did, you psycho!” His fear had devolved into anger, useless as it was.

Kat only tutted away at his rage, “Heh. You really think it’s smart to yell at the only person who can help you?” she asked, raising a brow in challenge.

Her attitude stunned him. Sure, her voice had the tone of the same cool, charming girl he’d met just minutes ago. But there was a clear threat in her remark, one that permeated his awareness through subtle flexes in the flesh he was sitting on. It dawned on him that this wasn’t just a new spongey surface he’d been flung into, but a real, fully conscious body that twitched and responded to his meager presence with such constant awareness that he could barely start to grasp its being attached to the immense living being that held him.

As he desperately looked around to take it all in, she tutted, resting her chin in her other hand while watching Isaiah in amusement, “Ya know, I’m actually curious. Tell me, Doctor, how do you think this happened? I’d love to hear some off-the-cuff theories.”

Her tone was so casual, no different than how she addressed him across the park table if only a touch more condescending.

Hearing her challenge did set his imagination off. Limited as it was by the technically focused scope of his knowledge base, there weren’t many viable explanations for his condition. No explanation except…

“Th-this is a dream. It has to be,” he started, attempting to get onto his feet on the uneven ground, “Y-you drugged me with something, so I passed out! And now I’m seeing you in the dream, since… you’re the last thing I saw before-”

“If this is a dream, how would you be aware of it?” she grinned wittily.

“I… I don’t know,” he felt like the answers were just in reach if he simply found the right thread. Then, a thought occurred, his brows jumping up, “Ah! There’s lucid dreaming. That’s a thing!”

This line felt critical, likely the only reason for these unreal events, “If the conscious mind becomes aware of itself in irregular states of REM sleep, a person can navigate their own dreams with limited cognizance… or, something like that…”

The giant Kat raised her well-kept brow, a soft congratulation for his latest hypothesis. “Now that’s a thought. So why would you dream about me holding you in my hand?”

“Because you drugged me! Why wouldn’t I picture you as a monster!”

“Yeesh! That’s harsh,” she mused, tickled by his accusation, “But then again, doesn’t anything else about today seem weird to you?”

“The fuck does that mean!?” he cried out. Then he was forced back onto his ass when the ground trembled with her booming, immense laughter.

“Well, you and I don’t know each other. You just happen to be in the park when a sweet piece of ass comes right up to you and basically asks you to fuck,” she elaborated, brushing her hair back through her self-praise, “That kinda thing usually happen to you?”

Isaiah started to speak back when he froze, a new epiphany creeping into his head from her words.

Noticing this new thread taking hold, she continued, “You say this is a dream because it’s impossible, but what if you’ve been asleep this whole time?”

His face went pale. His limbs splayed out as he tried to steady himself through her constantly swaying care of him.

“Think about it. You might just be asleep at your desk back home. Do you actually remember what you were doing before this?”

“I-I do. I was-” He had a clear vision of the bus ride he took to reach the park, even what he did to distract himself from work this morning. Could this really all just be a visceral dream?

“Hmm, feels a bit fuzzy, doesn’t it?” she pouted almost sympathetically for the boy in crisis, “But hey! There’s a bright side to all of this.”

Isaiah had been staring at his hands, trying to assess whether they were real or not when he processed her claim, “W-what could possibly be good about this?”

“Well,” she started, bringing her hand closer to her face, the exhaust from her nose and lips swirling around the palm that held him, “if this is all a dream, why don’t we have some fun?”

“....Fun? What do you-?”

“Think of it this way. You’re stressed about school or something, yeah?” Her words came out as matter-of-factly as one would expect, but there was an intimidating lusciousness to seeing the syllables of her lovely, fried voice warping the massive pink lips mere yards above him, “So maybe your mind conjured up little ol’ me to pull you out of your funk, if just for a bit. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

He considered her words, still intimidated by the new dimension of closeness he was perceiving, “...Then why am I so small?”

“Pfft, who knows man? Dreams are freaky… That said-”

Her hand raised again, this time drawing him so tantalizingly close to her lips that he could reach out and touch them if he wanted. The warmth from her palm now amplified by the damp humidity radiating from her mouth. It was a seeping heat that oozed into his being dressed in the minty scent of her breath. The experience was horrifying and exhilarating, the confusing juxtaposition of feminine warmth and the monstrous scale was nearly too much for his hormonal mind to handle.

“How about that coffee? Think you’d like to spend some time with me now?”

Her smile stretched across her elfish face, moving him slightly closer where her grin nearly touched his splayed out body, warming him to his very soul. If she was a lioness before, now she was a goddess, the subject of her attention so completely at her will that the concept of her revisited proposition felt unearthly. An unworthy mite such as him being offered any time with the towering beauty was a fantasy undreamt of. Well, until now.

What could he do? How will she react to another rejection?

“...What would you want to do?” he relented, now grappling with the more perplexing question of how they’d even fool around. He wasn’t new to wet dreams, though the logistics of this one eluded him.

Her smile closed, a quietly pleased joy humming to his acceptance, “I can think of a few things.”

Before he was afforded any clarification, her meaning was suddenly impressed upon him along with looming plushness collapsing overhead. The warm, lightly moist pressure was equal parts passive yet meticulously aware of how it impacted the small body between them and her palm. A thundering rumble roared through the pliant flesh as his limbs fruitlessly pushed back for the limited space he could hope for, answered by a distant murmur of satisfaction. Unearthly, unsettling, and powerfully feminine in its timbre. Isaiah twisted his face away from his firm, pillowy oppressor, now sandwiched between the ridges of her palm and the wrinkles in the pink flesh absolving him.

A rush of hot mist preceded the return of breathable air as she pulled away, leaving Isaiah gasping for relief. She’d brought him back into view, silently chuckling at his presumably flustered state.

“That was nice.” Her words crinkled through an angelic smirk, their purred annunciation ringing over the diminutive boy. Still recovering from the onslaught, his legs gave up on him as he stumbled into the waiting swell of her upper palm, reduced to a passive participant in this exchange.

“How was it for you?” she asked, the ‘you’ in her query forming her lips into an unbearably adorable– and seductive– pout.

Despite the hormones in his mind screaming at him to put an end to this ridiculous, dangerous act… other hormones spoke otherwise. The chill returning to his naked body made the pulsing heat in his building erection agonizing. Whether she noticed this change in his physiology or not, her pout bloomed into another lustful grin.

“Hehe, thought so. Should’ve warned you, I kinda have that effect on people.” Kat’s typhoon-like speech spilled the heat of her recent kiss back around him, stimulating his overly sensitized nerves. Every twitch of her palm and wisp of breath edged him further into confused stimulation.

“Th-that was too much, I can’t- don’t-” reason still ruled his mouth, though his mind was slowly surrendering to baser instincts. She could see it in his hesitation, his shivering.

“Don’t worry. We’re just getting started.”

He felt a vague tension in the floor. A foreboding force that built in firmness until it became a catapult. In an instant, he was launched in an arc towards her face. The minuscule screams he produced were drowned out by the rush of wind, both from the air through which he was currently propelled through and the steamy fog of Kat’s breath. The light shortly dimmed, and Isaiah finally landed with a bright squelch.

He made a small impression on the fibrous ground that cradled his landing. The alien atmosphere enveloped him wholly, encompassing all senses in the muggy dank of his new environment. He didn’t want to acknowledge the thought even mentally of where he’d wound up. It was too unreal, horrific in every way. Yet, his arousal held true, rubbing itself unwittingly against the nurturing carpet of buds.

Taste buds. That covered a real human tongue. Or was this still all a dream? As he tried to push himself up, balanced on all fours with his back facing the portal he’d entered from, he tried to remember this was all in his head. This girl, his size, the needful, slurping flesh that caressed his skin. All illusion.

Even when it reared itself upward, knocking him back onto his belly while raising him into the hard, bony ceiling of the mouth he was inside. As fake as this all had to be, everything felt so viscerally real! A squirt of thick drool slushed over him as the immense muscle rubbed him thickly into the hard palate, the stench of lingering mint and raw meat mixed in a contradictory fog around him, and another reverberating hum rose from the depths of the cave. A mighty, girlish moan of approval that sounded all around him. It was a sound someone might make when receiving a first kiss.

Why did he have the dreadful feeling that it’d also be his last?

All through the physical and psychological strain of being tasted, her slick tongue still effortlessly treated his cock to an otherworldly spectrum of stimulus. The grooves of taste buds slurped and folded around his manhood and front relentlessly, all at once being too big to possibly show precision while at the same time carrying the undercurrent of her knowing, conscious effort to please him in every squelching surge.

The placement of gravity was an ever-changing mystery, any semblance of balance denied with every shift of his muscular molester. Obviously, he was moving, though his rational mind quickly gathered that she was the one actively walking somewhere. Was she taking him? Would she let him out soon? Questions plagued his fearfully aroused spirit the longer he found himself at the whims of the omnipresent savoring that dominated his existence…

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