Fuck you, Melissa. 

I'm not sure if I want that to be an expression of anger or of my stupid desire to literally fuck you, but fuck you, Melissa. 

I set my head on my desk, these thoughts swirling in my head. "Damn it all," I sighed.

Ironically, Melissa and I were friends once. She was my best friend . . . right up until the moment I came out. Since then, she's been a complete bitch to me, going out of her way just to grind my face in the dirt- metaphorically, of course. I've got about a foot and seventy pounds on her (all muscle, thank you very much), so if she tried anything I could just smack her down. Besides, she's always thought of herself as above physical confrontation. That's what I was for. I've been replaced by a crew of meatheads in that regard.

All that said, I still want her. So much. Can you blame me? I'm a desperate virgin, a little over six feet tall, and I get compared to Billie Joe Armstrong. She's a confident little bitch, delicate Asian features, hair she dyes a vibrant cherry red, and curves that, last I checked, were more in the realm of being stereotypically Latin than Asian. 

But, you want some delicious irony? As helpless as my crush on her is, her crush on Thomas is sixty times less likely to be reciprocated. A little more than half the school has a thing for that freshman, mostly because he doesn't pay attention to the people throwing themselves at him. He's asexual, and all the attention confuses him. Worse yet, thanks to his stupid social anxiety, he gets more uncomfortable and increasingly blunt with his rejections of everyone- which makes everyone want him more. It is a sad, vicious cycle that he says he plans to break by making himself as un-sexy as possible. He's had no success, and I think he mentioned doing research into anything that sounded like it might work. I'd kill for his "curse"- but that's just me.

When the bell rings, I head out, grab something vaguely edible from the stand on campus, and head over to the one place I know Thomas will hide when he doesn't want to be swamped with attention. 

Sure enough, he's sitting on the roof of the Sciences building, flipping through the pages of a book and absent-mindedly munching a chicken sandwich. I whistle to get his attention, and he jimmies the door open so I can head up there with him.

"Any luck?" I ask sarcastically. 

He shrugs. "The occult apparently never has the problem I do."

"You've moved on to magic now?" I ask, amused he's gone this far.

"Any port in a storm." He marks the page he's currently reading, and looks up at me, the emerald eyes behind his glasses full of disappointment. "I simply don't understand it. How, in the twelve thousand plus years we've been on this planet, has there not been anyone struggling to get some time to themselves?"

I chuckle. "Maybe because we 'sexual creatures' are all suffering from the opposite problem. What are you marking that page for?"

"It's not funny," he shoots back. "In any case, there's a passage here mentioning making one's problems smaller. I skimmed it, so it might be nothing, but it's worth review."

I shrug. "It's magic. Try it."

"And risk all varieties of absurd things going wrong? No thank you." He sighed. "I also marked an instant lust charm for you. You're welcome."

"Thanks," I mutter. "Will it work?"

He gives a light smile. Were I straight, I'm sure my ovaries would be exploding at this point. "You can try. If you fail, you'll only look a little crazy."

I shove him, and he falls over, dropping the book. "Thanks again."

He sighs. "It's no big deal. Just . . . remember one thing."

"That thing being?" I ask, amused.

"You owe me." With that, he picks up the book, hands it to me, and leaves. "Peace, Quiet."

I give a hammy salute. "Goodbye, Commander Crazy."

---------

Later that day, as I go to leave school, I'm greeted by Melissa, notably lacking backup. "Yo, rug-muncher."

I know the game by this point. "Wassup, slut?"

I've hit a nerve here, and she- rather predictably- violates my personal space to try to try to make her insults stronger. The only reason she wins arguments like this is because I'm too busy wondering what her exact cup size is to focus on insulting her back. I throw some half-hearted retorts to insults I've stopped hearing, until I realize she's asking me a question. 

"Come again?" I know she hates it when I tune her out, which is exactly why I do it.

"Argh!" She yells, desperately trying to keep from losing her shit. "What's. With. The. Fucking. Book. Seriously, cunt, I didn't know you got brain damage from-"

"Hey, hey." I hold up a hand, quieting her really quickly. She was a lot less likely to provoke me alone. "Your slurs are edging into 'extremely offensive' territory. Anyway, about the book-" I got a crazy, stupid idea. "-how about I read you a passage."

She stands there, irked. While I had piqued her interest, she didn't want to admit to that.

I smirk and flip to a marked page. Quickly tracing my finger to a section labeled in italics, I read aloud in some incomprehensible language. When I'm finished, I look at Melissa to see if she's gotten lustful desires for me yet.

"The fuck was that?" She asks rudely. "Some kind of secret whore language?" 

Before I respond, I notice something. Something intriguing. While she's always been shorter than me, Melissa seems to be even smaller than before. At first, I wonder if I'm having a crazy late growth spurt in the middle of my senior year. It's at that point I realize that I haven't gotten taller- Melissa's gotten smaller.

Anger lights up her face- she isn't as quick on the draw as I had been. "Answer me, you big dumb bitch!"

My lopsided smirk is probably scaring her at this point, and I decide to have fun. "Are you sure I'm that big? Maybe you're just <i>small </i>," I taunt, finally taking advantage of my greater strength and pinning her against the wall. Then, I lift her into the air so she's at eye level with me. I'll admit, the rush of power you get when you lift someone off the ground who cannot possibly get back down without you letting them . . . nothing can equate.

"I . . . I'm just the right height for a girl my age," Melissa whimpered, not used to feeling powerless like this. "Y- you're the g- g- giant."

"Giantess," I correct. It's at that point that my grip around her shoulders starts to slip, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why- she's still shrinking. I figure she might be around 3 feet by this point. "And no, I'm no giantess. You're just a really stupid midget girl who picked a fight with a girl a lot bigger and stronger than she was."

Her face gets contorted with efforts to free herself from my grip, thinking that I've intentionally loosened my hold on her for whatever reason. I've got her well and truly scared, and I can feel her dwindling away. "Back- back off, Diana. I- I- I swear to god that I have a rape whistle, and I'm not afraid to use it." Reality sinks in, rather uncomfortably for her. "How are your hands so big? This wall is really rough- oh no. What the fuck?"

My smirk has spread into a full-on smile now, and I look her dead in the eye. "I'm not gonna rape you. You're not big enough to get me off anymore." I'll admit, this fetish comes with some really sweet lines once you have the ability to act on them. "At least, not conventionally," I add.

"Conventionally?" She repeats hollowly. At this point, she's less than a foot tall- so light that I could hold her one-handed if I wanted to, but I'm currently digging having a girl being pinned to the wall by little more than my palms- which I note with satisfaction could grip her entire torso with room to spare.

"Don't make me spell it out for you, Melissa. I'm sure you can figure it out. Go on, say what I've done." Power is <i>such </i> an aphrodisiac. 

"You- you shrunk me," she whispers, trembling with fear. "H- how did you-"

"Never you mind the how, Melissa. Or, given that you're about five inches tall," I say offhandedly, deciding that pinning the girl to the wall with both hands is getting uncomfortable, so I move my left hand away, "I don't think you still deserve a person's name. How's about I call you Bitch and get it over with?"

Now, fear has finally sunk into the squirming, tiny thing in my hand, and she drops everything left of the calm, confident command she ran our high school with. "Please, no, I'm begging you, Diana, don't do this! We- we were friends, remember? You wouldn't want to hurt your best friend, would you?" She's beginning to sob, to try to appeal to me in any way she can to try to save her own ass.

"Funny, Diana- I seem to recall you saying that we weren't friends anymore. Something about not wanting to associate yourself with a disgusting lesbian?" I let a good deal of anger seep into my voice for that, and you'll have to forgive me for that. "Not fun to be on the other end, is it?"

I gave up with pinning her to the wall, as I didn't want to smear her into paste just yet. Instead, she now occupied a position in my palm. The shrinking had slowed to a crawl, leaving her at two inches tall. "I- I shouldn't have betrayed you like that," she says, offering my palm a kiss. "I'm sorry."

I scoff. "You're only apologizing because you're scared for your life. Where's that fire? You were calling me all manner of nasty names just a few minutes ago. Oh, wait. I know," I add sarcastically. "All your hot air is gone because you're tiny and helpless in my hand, and without your posse to back you up, you've got nothing. Hell," I laugh, "if you were still big enough to be considered human, you might be able to use that rape whistle you talked about earlier to call for help." I let every bit of bitterness crawl into my voice. "You were never my equal, and you knew that. Didn't you, Bitch? But, rather than accept me when I came out to you- which I did in confidence, by the way- you tried to make it a personal power play. You told <i>everyone</i>, and got me kicked out of my house. I came this close to killing myself, all because some girl I had a crush on ruined my life. But I didn't. I came to see you as what you really were- a self-important, yapping little bitch. And now," I laughed, tears in my eyes, "you're not big enough to turn me on anymore."

Melissa had finally stopped shrinking. At less than an inch tall, I was perfectly honest- unless I concentrated on what I remember her sexy body was, she simply was not big enough for me to see her curves. She was now crying, begging for any sympathy. "Please, Diana, I'm sorry, I'll bury my head in your crotch in front of the entire school, I'll be your little bitch for the rest of my life, just please let me live!" It's really pathetic, to be honest. "I'll do anything!"

I sigh. "I'm not heartless like you, Bitch. You have one chance. Pay attention, because I will only say this once."

The only reason I know she nodded was because her entire body shook with the effort.

"You have until I get home to turn me on enough to want to bring you back to normal. You can even choose where I put you. But," I caution, "if you fail . . . well, these dinky school lunches are barely edible, let alone satisfying. If I'm not distracted from my hunger, I could eat anything . . ." I lick my lips for effect. My body even cooperates by letting out a growl from my stomach, which makes Bitch jump. "So. Make your choice."

"All I have to do is turn you on?" She asks this as if it were easy.

"To the point where I feel the need to finish the job," I shrug. 

"Your p- pussy," she chokes out. "P- put me in."

"You said it," I say, gripping her between my index and middle fingers, hastily plunging them into myself, then withdrawing them sans passenger.

Now, were I a relatively normal girl, this might have had a chance at success. However, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I tend to get off more from psychological stimulation than physical. Basically, the best place for Bitch to pick would have been my ear, so she could whisper sexy things to me. That probably would've worked. As it was, I felt a highly disappointing tingle during the bus ride, and a brief moment on the walk up the stairs when she found something really sensitive, but the jolt of my taking another step shook her clear off of whatever that was. I turned my key in the lock, which was apparently loud enough for Bitch to hear, and she tried so hard in those last few seconds. It simply wasn't enough. Once I had locked the door, I pulled down my jeans and underwear, and fished Bitch out.

"No, no please! I'll try harder!" She pleaded. "You liked some of that, right?"

I decided to shake my head and hold her in front of my vaginal opening. "I'm completely dry, Bitch. You know what that means."

The crying resumed. "I didn't have enough time! Please- I don't even taste good!"

I sighed in disappointment. "And to think I used to get damp simply watching you sing." I raised her ever higher up my body, until she was level with my mouth. "Any last words?" I ask quietly, allowing my tongue to slide out of my mouth.

"I'll try harder next time," she cried, her sobs shaking her body hard enough for me to feel it. "I'll send you nudes if you want, I'll do anything you want. I don't want to die, Diana."

"Everyone dies sometime," I say philosophically, before I allow my tongue to curl around her body, cutting off her shrieks of terror the moment they begin. I pull my tongue past my lips, and swallow my former tormentor, former friend with a sigh. Still hungry, I raid the pantry for something to snack on before I start working on my homework. I may no longer be a growing girl, but I am quite the big girl, and it takes a lot to keep me running. I figure that, by the time I get cracking on the Calc, there won't be so much as a trace of Melissa.

Frustrated with the lack of snacks, I sit down to work, to my stomach's loud protests. "I know, I know. It wasn't enough. It's better than nothing.

<b>END</b>