Approaching the dining table where I had laid the satchel, I paused to recompose myself.  Who did I have left?  Eliza, Lori, Ingrid, Alice, Molly, Jack, Brett, and Gloria.  So many plans, and I wanted to make sure they all came off in the proper order.

I sat down and pulled the satchel upright, ignoring the startled cries from within.  I opened the clasp and reached in without looking, trying to see if I could identify the tiny naked people by touch alone.  My first catch was a woman, and by her chest I thought it might be Eliza.  I discovered that it was in fact Ingrid, looking quite at a loss cradled in my fist as I pulled her out into the light.

My former supervisor stared up at me as I held her under my scrutinizing gaze, but as soon as I stood her on the tabletop, she covered her chest and her privates and looked back at the satchel.  What had they been saying in there?

I started to reach back into the satchel, but something about Ingrid's obvious discomfort gave me pause.  Then I wondered if some of the others wanted to contribute to the festivities.

I got up and went over to the prototype.  I tried to remember how loud it had been when it discharged.  Would it alarm somebody in the next apartment?  Oh well; no risk, no reward.

I hefted the device and toggled the selector to "50."  Ingrid was still looking at the satchel as I walked back to the table, but she finally looked up at me with incomprehension as I brought the prototype to bear on her and pulled the trigger.

The wrenching sound was deafening in my little one-bedroom unit, but I guess all my neighbors were still at work.  I had to bend over and squint to spot the tiny pale redhead, who was now not even two inches tall.  She reflexively flinched as I sat back down and reached back into the satchel.

One by one I brought them out, letting my fingers explore the women's curves and flanks.  I rolled Alice around in my palm a number of times, there was so much to grope.  I paid particular attention to their reactions upon seeing Ingrid's new size.  I was sure I saw Molly smirk and snort when she saw that the senior staffer was now, relative to my other captives, the height of a small child.

After they were all standing in the middle of the table, I rested my forearms together and leaned forward to have a closer look at my former team.  Most of the women showed signs of recent crying, as did Brett, I think.  Almost everyone had a hand over their crotch, and Eliza was ridiculously also trying to cover her tits and swiveled her ass away every time anyone looked like they might be checking it out.  Then I noticed that both of Lori's nipples were glistening.

"Of course!" I said.  Everyone jumped, either at my voice or at my hand darting forward to scoop up Lori.  "You haven't been able to pump this morning.  Here, lemme help you out."

She was only just barely four inches tall, but her swollen boobs were almost the size of peas.  Holding her chest to my mouth, I almost had to fit her head into one of my nostrils to get her heavy mammaries between my lips.  My pliant pucker sealed around her rack, then my greedy tongue began its pulsing suck.

Perhaps it was because I was milking both tits at once, but I was surprised at the volume of the sweet flood that coated my tongue and trickled down my throat.  Equally surprising was the volume of Lori's wailing.  The terror, the humiliation, and the relief all swelled together into a primal howl.  I wished I could have seen her face.

When at last it seemed I had sucked all she had to give for the moment, I held Lori away from my face so I could look into her eyes.  They were still shut, but her tiny mouth still hung open from her cries, and her livid bosom heaved with each breath.  Her hands fluttered up to cover her boobs, but the skin and nipples must have been still too raw and she let her arms fall back in defeat.

"That hit the spot," I said when she finally opened her eyes.  "Just what a growing boy needs."

I set Lori back down with the others, whom I regarded with insouciantly raised eyebrows.  Eliza hurried over to the collapsing Lori, but the rest were looking up at me in varying degrees of shock.  That's right, I thought, all bets are off.

Ingrid had drifted over next to Jack and was holding his hand, looking for all the world like his pre-teen daughter.  Perhaps bolstered by this endorsement of his authority, Jack raised his voice to me.  "What have you done with the others?" he demanded.

"They won't be joining us for this part," I said affably.  They all looked at each other.  Jack seemed to take my words at face value, and this was probably enough to satisfy most of the others for the moment.

I was tired of Jack's theatrics, however, and I didn't want to have to worry about any more interruptions.  I turned in my chair to grab a pint glass off the kitchen counter, then snatched up both Jack and Brett and tumbled them inside.  I set the glass down an arm's length to one side, distant from the others but not out of sight.

I looked for Ingrid—distraught after I had abruptly lifted Jack from her clasp—and visibly uncomfortable at being left with subordinate staffers twice her size.  I collected a roll of scotch tape from a nearby drawer and peeled off a short strip.  Extending my forefinger, I poked Ingrid in the chest and pressed her onto her back, lying on the tabletop.

"Legs together and arms to your sides," I instructed the bug-sized woman.  When she had complied after a moment of terrified confusion, I applied the strip of tape, firmly securing her to the table and leaving only her head and shoulders uncovered.

I thought I heard a squeak of protest from Jack, but a flick of my fingernail against the rim of the pint glass shut him up.  Alice squealed when I reached down and grabbed her about her squishy waist.  I rolled her around until she was lying on her stomach in my open palm, then I spread her legs apart with my free hand.  I brought her to my face, her kumquat-sized ass open under my nose.  Yeah, she was ready.

I lowered Alice back to the table above Ingrid, Alice facing away from Ingrid's bound torso and legs.  As she descended toward Ingrid, Alice instinctively spread her legs so that her feet came to rest on the table on either side of the immobile head of Ingrid, who was now staring up into the daunting crack of Alice's ass.

"Have a seat," I told Alice, whose tiny rolls of flesh continued trembling after I had released her.  She looked up at me in bafflement, then down at her shrunken bound supervisor.  When she returned to my expectant gaze, I saw her mortification squirm across her tiny face.

"She won't be able to breathe," Alice finally managed.

"I don't care if she is able to breathe or not," I said patiently.  "Just make sure she cleans you off thoroughly.  Oh, and if you have any other action items for her while she's down there, feel free to delegate them."

I kept my eyes on Alice while she considered her next step, but when she finally started to squat down over the alarmed Ingrid, I stole a glance at the others' reactions.  Eliza was still consoling Lori, trying to shut out what was happening.  Molly and Gloria, however, were watching Alice intently with arms crossed in front of them.

Alice's knees must have been in good shape as she was able to get her asshole down over Ingrid's mouth without sitting her full bulk atop Ingrid's windpipe.  Alice had her head down, concentrating on her balancing act, and I think she had a quick exchange with the entombed Ingrid.  Eventually I could make out shifts in Ingrid's red hair and her tiny nose repeatedly surfacing for air between Alice's straining thighs.  As my hand slipped beneath the table, I realized my tongue was writhing inside my mouth in imitation of what Ingrid's miniscule muscle must have been laboring at.

Alice finally brought her head up and looked into my hungry eyes.  I took a sharp breath when I saw her resentment at being made my puppet warring with the pleasure she was taking from degrading her supervisor.  I gave the slightest of nods, and she closed her eyes, leaned back, and grappled her lolling boobs.

That's when I noticed Gloria staring at me with unguarded fascination.  Had she been full-sized, I would have pulled her close right then.  As it was, I just licked my lips and turned back to Alice, who had leaned forward to wrap her meaty pussy around Ingrid's nose.

Another buzz from the pint glass disturbed the moment, and both Jack and Brett recoiled in fear when I turned my frustrated face their way.  Everyone froze when I suddenly stood up.  I bent over to grab the prototype, then snatched the pint glass off the table and set it down in the middle of the well-lit kitchen floor.

I toggled the size percentage down to "8," then triggered it on the pint glass and its shrieking occupants.  The metallic whine had scarcely faded before I dropped to one knee, searching for my tiny target.  Not even a half-inch tall, I only spotted the clear pint glass because of the panicked movement of the mite-sized Jack and Brett.  They were cast into shadow when the tips of my thumb and forefinger enclosed the full height of the glass with ease.

Walking back to the table, I saw that Alice had stood back up and everyone was staring at me.  Even Lori was watching me, weakly clinging to Eliza for support.  I slowly extended my pinched fingers down to my audience and tried to set the tiny glass upright on the table in front of Molly.  I gingerly withdrew my hand, but even before I had sat down I could see that the glass had toppled over.  I could barely make out the tiny crawling figures of Jack and Brett struggling to their feet.

Molly was already standing over the miniscule men, who were now subjectively five-and-a-half inches tall compared to her.  Gloria approached cautiously, then knelt down and spoke to Jack.  I couldn't hear what they said, and I looked over at Alice, who had rejoined the others but didn't get close to the shrunken men.  Originally, I had thought to inspect Alice and send her back to Ingrid to correct her "mistakes," but I was onto something better now.

"Okay, Molly," I said, trying (and failing) not to startle everyone too much, "it's time for Jack's and Brett's performance reviews.  Please remember we're all counting on you to be fair but honest in your feedback."

I leaned forward and rested my head on my hands—which were folded atop the table—to take in their reactions.  Eliza and Lori looked up at me with bewildered disbelief.  Gloria stood back up and looked at me more quizzingly, as if she had an idea but didn't dare voice it.  Alice glared at me, but then turned to watch Molly.

Molly was one of those women who were so beautiful that when they spoke to you, you forgot what you were doing or what you wanted to say.  Even at less than four inches tall and as at my disposal as any of the others, her face could still make me freeze up a bit.  Gloriously nude, she put one one hand on her hip and looked up from her tiny supervisors at her feet and into my face, which I suspect was much less inscrutable than hers.  She wasn't smiling, but neither was she trembling or crying.  I watched her take a deep breath, and it immediately became obvious that I had lost the plot.

Molly dropped to one knee and snatched up one of the tiny men.  Because of their extreme size, and I had to do a double-take to determine that she had in fact grabbed Brett.  I was even less prepared when she wrapped the fingers of her other hand around his tiny head and gave it a sharp twist.  Eliza started screaming as Molly tossed Brett's lifeless body over her shoulder and reached for Jack.  I was too stunned to tell Eliza to be quiet, but it turned out not to be necessary.  "Put a sock in it, you old cow," hissed Molly.

Molly didn't look at me at all but rather held Jack in her fist just below her face, looking down at him with a cold expression.  She must have liked what she saw in his face, as a mirthless smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.  Then her mouth opened wide and she lifted Jack toward it until her lips had completely engulfed his head.

"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Lori, who started marching toward Molly.

That snapped me out of my fascination, and I had to move swiftly to re-assert my control.  I slipped my hand behind Molly and curled my fingers around her, trying to use my thumb to pin the arm that held Jack.  Her lips released Jack as her hand was pulled to her chest, and he appeared intact for the moment.  I didn't object to Molly's apparent intentions, but after Brett I wanted to control the pace.

As I delicately lifted Molly from the table, her face screwed up in frustration and rage at my intervention.  Recognizing that hunger, I brought her close to my face and said softly, "Hold that thought."  I grabbed another, full-size pint glass and tipped it at an angle so I could gently slide Molly inside, smiling as her tender ass slipped across my fingers.