Simultaneous with her teleportation away from Basra, Rumina had cast a tracing spell. She blamed Doug Phillips for the breaking of the concealment spell she had cast on her rented room. And, now, she would make him pay for further distracting her from the Black Obelisk!
They (she and Little Sinbad) had rematerialized on the seashore of some tropical island. And, the first thing she saw, in looking around, were blankets spread out on the sand. Blankets with the same color scheme as the skirt of that Celtic harlot Maeve!
[What did she call it? Ah, yes: plaid.]
Then, she heard a male voice call out: "Hey! Who are you? And, why are you standing on those blankets? That's where we're gonna have the surprise anniversary party for Mr. and Mrs. Howell!"
The man who addressed her so boldly was plainly a sailor. Yet, his cap, shirt, and trousers were strage-looking, to say the least!
"Go away, mortal. I have some meditation to do. I must determine why my tracer spell has landed me here (of all places)!"
"My name is Gilligan. Don't call me 'Myrtle.' "
Gripping Little Sinbad's bottle with her right hand, she gestured with her left...and the annoying Gilligan went flying down the beach head over heels. Like a tumbleweed in reverse!
Needless to say, when he picked himself up, he ran back to camp, as quickly as possible, to tell the others what had happened to him. And, naturally, they were a little incredulous. After five or ten minutes of pleading, however, three of them reluctantly accompanied him back to the beach.
Rumina--who had subsequently become distracted by her lovely surroundings--got annoyed at this intrusion. So, she shrank Gilligan and the two other men down to the size of dolls! Leaving the brunette wench called MaryAnn open-mouthed with shock and amazement. Two emotions that immediately doubled when Rumina muttered something, and the beach blanket she sat upon took off for the sky like a flying carpet!
If her magic powers had included something like X-ray vision, she could have peered down through the ocean below, and observed something that might have astounded even her. Namely: a nuclear-powered submarine called "The Seaview."
"Are you sure that this island is far enough from civilization that no one else will find it, Admiral?" asked Capt. Crane.
"There are no guarantees in life, Lee," replied Harriman Nelson (Adm./USN Reserve): But, once we bury this thing, then nuke it from a relatively safe distance, no one in their _right mind_ will want to go near that island!"
The two men looked down at the Freudian piece of meteoric obsidian that Admiral Nelson had placed upon the work desk in his cabin-office.
MEANWHILE, BACK IN 19TH-CENTURY PHILADELPHIA...
As soon as Catwoman had finished stripping the two shrunken agents down to their long-Johns, she forced each of them to into the yogic position called "the Siamese Human Knot." Whereupon, she began juggling them from hand-to-hand!
When she finally stopped, the two little men were so dizzy they had nearly blacked out. Thus, they only comprehended half of what she said when she told them she wished she could take them with her, when she returned to her time. The next thing she knew, Catwoman was tumbling through the timestream, once more! And, she was so busy hanging on to the obelisk, she failed to notice the fetally-shaped silhouettes in the area of her bra cups.
tbc
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
SOMEWHERE IN THE SOUTH PACIFIC