Sunlight leaked into the bedroom through just the smallest separation of Melanie’s curtains. Those few morning beams were just enough to stir her, flickering her eyes into consciousness. For a few moments, she felt out of place, in the wrong bed or in the wrong clothes. Did last night actually happen? She wasn’t sure what truth she wanted.

Melanie rose groggily from underneath the large, heavy sheet. Her hair was messier than usual, and despite the longer sleep, the bags underneath her eyes still remained. On routine, one hand wiped at her face while the other stretched to her phone. It was 7 am, the usual time she would be waking up. It felt wrong, still. After what happened, could a morning like this really proceed it?

Then, she saw her. On the nightstand was a tiny woman, a student named Scarlet, shrunken to a mere three inches tall. She used to be tall and in charge, with a blunt personality that bossed Melanie around. Now, the scene said differently. Her entire body was tied up by a black-and-green shoelace, the other end of which was rigged around the nightstand’s lamp as to leash her to it. It was a simple set up, Melanie knew, but she was exhausted by the time she had gotten back to the apartment. It didn’t matter now; it worked, Scarlet hadn’t run off.

It wasn’t long after Melanie stirred that Scarlet also awoke. It was actually due to Melanie’s morning movements that Scarlet was disturbed from an uneasy sleep. Her eyes shot open and her body spasmed in an effort to be free. To her dismay, she couldn’t move an inch. It was painful, and only then did she realize how carelessly restricted her air flow had been this entire time. It wasn’t as though Melanie was concerned with how comfortable her knot was.

Despite the bonds, Scarlet curled forward and tired to get up. Her heart was beating wildly from just one glance at the giantess. She couldn’t live with herself, in that moment, if she didn’t at least try to break away. Maybe she didn’t fucking tie it, she wished, she desperately hoped, Where would I go, though?! This girl shrank me!

Melanie managed a smile, like a normal grin, looking down upon her captive. “Man… You didn’t even try…?” she questioned aloud in a sleepy voice. Scarlet shivered into a stillness, freezing in the position she was in. “Are you already this obedient? Mm… This was easier than I thought, at least.”

Scarlet said nothing. Melanie was fine with this; she swung her legs off from the bed, suddenly energized enough to get her out from under the sheets. In her exhaustion, she had collapsed into bed with that day’s clothes still worn. Everything from last night had blended together, everything from beyond the point she had picked up Scarlet and left Anders Library. She unzipped her hoodie and let it fall behind her; she remembered hugging her messenger bag closely while hustling to the next bus. She grabbed the edges of her t-shirt and pulled it off overhead; she remembered returning home, kicking off her shoes, and tip-toeing to her bedroom. She felt her black bra, debating briefly whether to remove it; she remembered roping Scarlet up to the lamp, and then barely anything else.

Something was so eerie about last night, Melanie thought. My heart still feels tired from just beating so hard. Maybe that’s why I fell asleep so easily…

A whine came from Scarlet, breaking Melanie free from her trance. Scarlet had tried again to worm her way out of the shoelace, but still to no avail. Melanie cackled, “Y-You should have been trying that last night, S-Scarlet...”

Scarlet stopped, frozen as though touched by a ghost. Was she supposed to laugh? Was it funny that she was kidnapped? Kidnapped, no less, by someone who couldn’t even confidently say her name.

Melanie’s hand moved towards the shrunken woman. Scarlet gasped and then shouted in protest. Melanie winced this time, her hand flinching back in response to these little sounds. “Hey, quit that,” she said, the amusement from her tone having quickly faded, “I’m trying to free you, anyway. Would you rather I make it tighter?”

Scarlet’s shouts were then reduced to quiet cries. Melanie wanted silence, but she would make do with this. Her hand continued and she picked up the light body in front of her. Scarlet’s voice pitched up again, the feeling of weightlessness being a frightening one when she had no ability to move. It was uncomfortably easy for her body to be manipulated, twisted and turned around as needed for Melanie to undo the shoelace. It actually was a simple knot made tight, so it was equally simple to unravel it. Once done, Scarlet was left gasping for air, so grateful then that she could breathe freely and naturally.

However, the feeling of a palm’s skin under her hands and knees was unsettling enough to sour the relief. That feeling of freedom was only briefly lived before she remembered that critical change in her life. Her eyes were still and empty, the life drained from her expression as she could only worry about what lay ahead.

Melanie sat back down into her bed with a bounce. Scarlet hugged the wide palm during this move, shaking in terror from the idea of being dropped at this height. When the motion stopped and she could look up, what was before her was a wall of pale skin, the bare stomach of her massive captor while being held casually in front of it. Her eyes were pulled upwards, to the two hill-sized breasts that were held by a comically huge bra, and beyond that was Melanie’s face, smiling down at Scarlet with a deceptively innocent gleam in her eyes.

“P-P-Please,” Scarlet coughed. She didn’t care if it was her place to talk or not, the words just desperately spilled from her lips. “Let me go… I’m so, so sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” Melanie repeated. Her tone wasn’t devilish or mean at all, but that absence was just as concerning. She whipped some loose hair out from the edges of her vision; a mundane act that, to Scarlet, was like a waterfall of ink being redirected. “... Who are you sorry to?”

“I’m sorry-- To you!” Scarlet nodded. It was one of the few things her body could do besides shiver. “I’m sorry f-for what I did, a-and how I acted!”

“To who?” Melanie leaned in closer, hauntingly overhead of Scarlet. “What’s my name? Do you remember my name?”

Scarlet gawked without a name coming to mind. How the hell should I know?! How the fuck do you even know my name?! Scarlet mentally raged, her limit pressed to its absolute. “Your name… Your name is…”

“We had a class together, Scarlet,” Melanie complained, her grim expression unchanging. “Don’t you think I’m unforgettable? Shouldn’t you be ashamed to not remember it? I’m a god-- b-basically a god to you… Doesn’t that ring a bell?”

Scarlet shook her head. This one test to be rewarded with even a minor amount of mercy, and she was failing it. “I-I don’t fucking remember…!”

“It’s Melanie,” she replied finally, “but that’s rude. I had to tell you. You’ve really wasted my time, and my day has only begun. That’s annoying…

“Since you fucked up my name, you have to redeem yourself.” Melanie stood up. It wasn’t very quick, but it did leave Scarlet scrambling to stay safe in the giant hand that held her. “Jump off my hand and kill yourself. Either that, or I can give you a new name…”

Scarlet was paralyzed. Was she just asked-- told to kill herself? She contemplated that, actually committing to the act of suicide. It would be disgustingly easy to do, just tripping off the edge of Melanie’s hand, only a few steps away. She berated herself for even considering it, and yet, she still lingered on the idea. It was hard not to, how her life had been brought to this unusual fork in its path; does she willingly die, or allow her name to be changed by this wicked, immature goddess?

There was no answer. Melanie waited, for she had made herself perfectly clear, and when silence was her answer, she accepted that. “You’re too scared to kill yourself,” she sighed. “Maybe you don’t want to fall to your death? That is kind of scary. You really are obedient, then, aren’t you?” She grinned like a flicker of candlelight. “A new name… Now you’re bothering me to think of one…”

“Melanie, f-for the love of god,” Scarlet ached, “I-I don’t want a new name. Please, Melanie, my name is Scarlet. D-Don’t make me choose this kind of shit, please…!”

“Wormslut!” Melanie laughed, but Scarlet despaired. The response she got from begging for her life was an awkwardly joyful cheer, an exclamation of two combined words that Scarlet herself didn’t even comprehend. Melanie figured that was the case, and repeated it, “Wormslut is your name. I think it’s funny, pretty appropriate too. You were just a slut before, b-but now you’re a tiny slut. Only worms would want to fuck you and I bet you’d come around to liking it…”

Scarlet melted where she lay. Her brain was being torn in a battle between accepting this fate and allowing Wormslut to replace her given name, or refusing that humiliating fate, as though it could be feasible in her current state. In the background of this mental divide was the grotesque image of exactly what Melanie was describing.

“Whoring yourself out to worms… so that you can get off,” Melanie continued, sitting down at her desk while she made this idle comment. “I’d rather kill myself,” she laughed.

The last monitor dimmed to black. “That’s enough,” Kimberly whispered. She rolled back in her chair, making some distance between her and the work computer. A deep sigh containing hours of overtime escaped her while her head rolled back. All the lights were off except the few needed to keep her cubicle lit, and even those were on a low setting.

Kimberly could have fallen asleep right there, it wouldn’t even be the first time since she worked at that office. She glanced at her phone and blinked; 9:30 pm, almost five hours after she was scheduled to leave. “It is Friday again,” she joked to herself, ruffling a hand through her long, blonde hair.

Kimberly wasn’t particularly proud of her job’s position, but she was proud of the work she put in. The job of an accountant for a simple business wasn’t the life she dreamed of, but it did pay off college debt and paved ahead of her a stable future. Her positive work ethic extended to everything she did, but an unfortunate side effect of this was that others often left work for her to pick up. To her, an unfinished task, whatever the reason, was like abandoned trash in the break room; “If I don’t clean it up, who will?”

And despite the long hours that bled into overtime, she still managed to smile afterwards. She didn’t hate her work, and the late hours didn’t bother her, other than the fact that she would have to wait for a ride. Her desk was tidied for the next day and the lights were completely shut off behind her exit.

Kimberly’s heels could be heard from across the hall as she approached the fourth floor lobby. As she turned the corner, already planning to hit the water cooler, she had noticed a familiar face. “Good evening, Melanie,” she greeted.

Melanie glanced up from her phone, instinctively hiding her screen away. A polite smile shivered across her lips. “H-Hi, Kim,” she replied quietly. She breathed, hoping to calm some of her nerves like she did before any conversation.

Kimberly casually passed Melanie, who was seated in a beige sofa, on her way to the water cooler. She began filling a green-tinted bottle and asked, “They had you stay late, too?”

“S-Sort of,” Melanie chuckled. “I offered…”

“That’s good, and also the worst thing you can do.” Kimberly laughed, and Melanie quietly did as well, to some extent. “Keep that up and you’ll be a floor mat like me in no time. Though, I guess if you’re a temp, making that good impression is really important.”

Melanie nodded. It didn’t phase her at all to juggle these lies, how she was a temp from a college work program that worked on the sixth floor. As elaborate as that set-up was, it was all necessary. It excused her enough to enter a poorly protected building without question, even at unusual hours, and to wander its lobbies. This had made the office building, and specifically that lobby, her original hideout -- before she discovered the abandoned Anders Library.

“Seriously,” Kimberly went on, pausing just to swallow a chug of water, “don’t work too hard. You’re still young, and college is a pain. Are you waiting for your mom?”

“Yeah,” Melanie whispered, “sh-she’s late again.”

“If you ever need me to, I can always get my friend to take you home,” Kimberly offered, sitting opposite of Melanie in a plain waiting chair. “Someone went missing, like, just a week ago, didn’t they? I don’t really remember, but a young girl like you should be careful. Seriously, ask me and I’ll try to arrange something.”

“Thanks, I-I will, if it comes up,” Melanie said.

“Yeah, so long as it isn’t in the next week, that is.” Kimberly chuckled. “I’m going on vacation! Starting after tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow,” Melanie awed. “That’s… perfect. That’s really nice, you must be excited.”

Kimberly laughed and exaggerated a nod in agreement. “Oh, Melanie, you have no clue! I barely get a weekend around here, but finally, a whole week to just relax…”

“D-Do you have any plans?”

“Hmm, well, of course,” Kimberly opened her phone to keep her eyes busy. “A few things, you know, but mostly I’ll just be happy to not be here in the office.”

Melanie felt guilty, staring through this woman’s lies. She had stalked Kimberly well enough to know that she was a single, childless 33 year-old. She hadn’t dated anyone in years, she worked far too much to maintain many friendships, and she had no wild interests or hobbies that took her anywhere exciting. Even her family connections were weak, with most relatives living out of state and out of touch. Melanie looked up at Kimberly, focusing on these secret and mundane details of Kimberly’s civil life, and how intriguing it was that someone who looked so mature and adult was actually quite worthless. Melanie closed her eyes; she wasn’t really one to judge.

Kimberly’s phone lit up with an alert. “Ah, she’s here.” She stood with a stretch, double-checking her person to make sure nothing was being left behind. She answered the call and addressed it quickly before pocketing the phone. “Alright, Melanie! Tomorrow’s Saturday, so the next time I see you will be after my time off, right? Don’t miss me too much!”

Melanie giggled nervously. “I-I’ll try not to,” she muttered. Her wave goodbye was motionless as Kimberly hurried into the elevator and descended to street level. Melanie breathed and sat patiently. She refused to move until she could hear the elevator’s hum come to a complete stop.

She waited an extra minute. Then, Melanie stood up and grabbed her messenger bag. Her heartbeat was starting to kick up again; she swallowed and ignored it. The halls were silent save for her soft footsteps which lead her to Kimberly’s work space. She grabbed the door knob tightly and jimmied it open; a trick she picked up from Kimberly herself, when she had forgotten her keycard one day.

The office was dark, illuminated faintly only by the glow of sleeping electronics. It proved to be all Melanie needed, stealthing through the rows of cubicles until she found Kimberly’s. Her racing heart was calming, eased to know how unchallenging this would be. She dug into her bag and retrieved from a pocket an everyday lint roller.

The last monitor dimmed to black. “Done!” Kimberly announced to no one. She rolled back in her chair, making some distance between her and the work computer. A deep sigh containing hours, days, and weeks of overtime escaped her while her head rolled back. All the lights were off except the few needed to keep her cubicle lit, until Kimberly cut the power to even those lights on her rush out.

Kimberly closed the door with a restrained chain of giggles. She had made it, alive and in one piece, to her well-deserved vacation. It may have been later into the evening than she had liked, but it wasn’t abnormal for a Saturday to stay late. Besides, she figured, what better way to start a break from work than knowing everything on her end had been completed? The week was forecasted to be stress-free, and Kimberly was getting giddy.

Kimberly laid back into the closed door, sighing in relief. She wiped some sweat from her brow; it made her feel accomplished. I worked for this, she thought. Time to go home.

But Kimberly’s feet wouldn’t move. She smiled, standing there against the door, unable to take a step forward. She sighed again, thinking she must be so exhausted from all her work. I really was wearing myself out too much, she thought, imagining that all the stresses from work were perhaps hitting her at once. She chuckled, only finding more reason to continue leaving the building, but her feet still didn’t move.

“Whoa,” she muttered. A wave of sickness befell her. She still couldn’t walk, but she could at least lift up her phone and look at the time. It was 9:30 pm, and it was usually out the door that she would text her ride to be picked up. She didn’t want to wait that long, of course, so her thumb fumbled to write up the message. She blinked, and realized her attempt at writing a text made for a jumble of words.

Before she could question it, a pain inflicted her. It was something hot, almost as if something was melting from her head and down the rest of her body. Her smile was challenged enough to disappear. Kimberly was starting to worry if she was now, of all times, catching a sickness.

“Kim?” Melanie had popped into vision. Kimberly gasped, spooked enough that she was able to move again. “A-Ahh, s-s-sorry…”

“Melanie,” Kimberly said to herself. She panted, taking one big breath to compose herself in front of the college student. “You startled me a little. W-What’s, uh, what’s going on? You waiting for your ride?”

“You look sick, Kim,” Melanie noted. Kimberly awkwardly smiled, realizing she was ill enough for it to be visible, apparently. “How are you feeling? W-What’s it feel like?”

Kimberly closed her eyes and held her head weakly in one hand. “It’s… probably nothing,” she replied. “I feel a little… faint, actually.”

Melanie stepped forward and put a hand on Kimberly’s elbow. Her grip was surprisingly serious to the office worker. “Can we sit down?” she suggested, glancing at the office door. “Y-You should sit, before you fall.”

Kimberly didn’t refuse, but she didn’t accept either. When Melanie reached for her keycard, she didn’t do anything to stop her. The door unlocked and she was escorted into a chair just beside the entrance. Even words were starting to fail Kimberly, struggling to come to mind and be said.

“Can you say anything, Kim?” Melanie asked, flicking on the lights. They blinded Kimberly, who vaguely gestured an arm up to block some of the illumination. Melanie took note of this weakened state of vision.

“Y-Yeah, I can still talk,” Kimberly replied. “I-It’s kinda hard to think…”

“Hard to think? Hmm.” Melanie bit her lip, looking over Kimberly’s body with studious eyes. Her hands felt the collar of Kimberly’s coat, then reached up to her forehead. “A-Are you feeling warm? You have a fever…”

“Do I? Ahh, crap,” Kimberly giggled weakly, though she were on the edge of passing out. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling pretty warm…”

“Where?”

“M-My head, but also kind of… my stomach, too…”

“Go on.”

“Mmm…” Kimberly swayed in her seat, making Melanie have to hold her up somewhat. “Like something-- a needle, going through my head.”

Melanie tugged down on Kimberly’s jacket. “Let’s get you undressed,” she forced out of her mouth. “You’re way too hot. You need to cool off.”

Kimberly’s eyes were closed, but she still raised a brow. Somehow, it didn’t seem that illogical, and she found herself being stripped without resistance. Her jacket was taken off from her sleeves and her blouse was unbuttoned. One after another, her articles of clothing were being removed, organized into a pile. Her tops, followed by her heels and then her leggings, then her skirt. She sat in the chair, now almost completely naked, and having practically fallen asleep during all of it.

“Let me get b-behind you,” Melanie urged, hoisting Kimberly to lean forward. Her fingers hesitated before the back of Kimberly’s bra.

At this touch, Kimberly became more conscious. She jumped up slightly and even put a hand against Melanie’s to push it aside. “W-Why am I getting naked?” she asked, unclear of how she ended up like this now, back into the office wearing only a white colored set of underwear.

“Y-Your fever…” Melanie repeated. “T-Trust me.”

“Melanie…” Kimberly shook her head. “Please, c-call a hospital… I think I need an ambulance.”

Melanie stared at her, then said, “I’m not calling for an ambulance…”

“Why… not?” Kimberly panted. She felt too sick for this, for a college student to be giving her this kind of difficulty, even if it was an acquaintance. Then, a totally different thought came shocking into mind. “Melanie, h-hey… Why are you here at the office...? It’s… Saturday. You don’t ever…”

Melanie was silent, and her expression matched. Kimberly looked up at her, and in her pursuit to discover what had gotten into Melanie, she had come across a more vital realization. The girl before her was growing. So was the chair she sat in, shadowed by Melanie’s increasing form. An odd question blanked everything else in her mind: How tall am I?

Melanie adjusted her posture, then reached again for Kimberly. This time, she didn’t have any reservations about just lifting the woman where she needed her to be. She forced Kimberly to lean forward, exposing her back. She wedged a finger under the bra strap, that one digit now almost becoming too thick to manage it.

“Hey! W-What do you think you’re doing?!” Kimberly gasped. She swatted at Melanie’s arm, but the blow was deflected. It was too weak, so Kimberly struck again, this time with a fist. Even that bounced off of Melanie, forcing Kimberly to observe herself. She really was shrinking.

The bra snapped. “Fuck,” Melanie winced. It had shrunk too small for her to cleanly take off, and by accident she had broken it loose.

“Get off!” Kimberly shouted, trying again to ward off Melanie’s advances. One arm thwacked at Melanie where it could while the other juggled to keep her breasts covered. Her breathing became hectic. “Someone! Anybody, help!”

“Shut up,” Melanie demanded. She tightly clutched Kimberly’s right arm and left leg, able to hold each entire limb confidently in her hands. Kimberly struggled, but at a quarter of her normal height, it was impossible to stop even a younger woman from holding her down with ease. Despite Kimberly’s pleas, Melanie continued to undress her, eventually sliding her panties cleanly off her legs.

Melanie giggled, she salivated. She didn’t want to get distracted with something so simple, but she had a naked woman in her hands. This mature woman, who surely had been looked up to by her peers, was dwindling in size every second. She wasn’t just weak, but she was exposed, vulnerable, and unable to fight back. Melanie stood up, still holding Kimberly precariously by two opposite limbs. The sensation of Kimberly’s size draining in her hands was ticklish, like sand sifting through her fingers.

“What is this?!” Kimberly screamed. She still pushed and pulled, trying to break free, even if it meant freefalling to the floor below. “Why are you doing this to me, Melanie?! Why?! I-I’m shrinking! I need help!”

These shouts broke Melanie out of a trance. She stumbled into an answer, one she had vaguely planned ahead of time; “B-Because… you’re cute…”

Kimberly continued to squirm, not even hearing that answer. “Why, why, why?! Melanie! Stop this now!”

“You were also… easy,” Melanie admitted, feeling cocky. It wasn’t as though anything could stop her now from kidnapping this woman, just like she had Scarlet. “You trusted me, so it was really easy to, err… do this to you.”

Kimberly’s resistance was slowing to a halt. This was a matter of trust? Kimberly didn’t want to believe it, that the awkward girl she happened to make passing conversation with after work was now holding her hostage -- or something, she still didn’t understand how any of this was real. In the midst of all the chaos, she did make a vow to herself, that she would never trust someone again, not if this was the cruel consequence.

But despite making such a hardened commitment, Kimberly was crying. She was still shrinking and the feeling of losing so much power, helpless to stop it, was more depressing than anything else she had lived through. Soon, she found herself wishing to be any amount taller than she had become, even if it meant having her leg and arm held still by a college student’s grasp. That was gone now; Melanie had her gripped into one singular fist, her entire body fitting perfectly between all five fingers.

Melanie’s thumb greedily crossed over Kimberly’s chest. Kimberly winced and tried to shake away, but she was a mere toy in Melanie’s hand. “B-Big,” Melanie muttered aloud. She positioned Kimberly in a way so that her breasts lay on top of the broad side of her index finger, then used her thumb to squeeze down on one. The texture of one nipple was exhilarating to feel under her finger. “These used to be pretty big, huh? You had a really nice rack… I-It was probably your best feature.”

The touch was more painful from Kimberly’s perspective. She shivered and whined, critically embarrassed for being abused so pathetically. She doubted that Melanie, in her position of power, understood just how rough her grip was on her boob. “Let me go!” she cried. “I-It hurts!”

That was ignored. Melanie ceased on her own terms, bringing Kimberly closer up to her face so that she could prod at her from different angles. She had become slightly obsessed with feeling this more mature body. Wormslut has some good boobs, Melanie compared, but this is a woman. She really does look nice, and she feels… really soft.

“You’re kind of fat,” Melanie giggled, sliding a finger around Kimberly’s legs, hips, and stomach. Despite Kimberly being tickled, it was Melanie that ended up laughing after each touch. “You’re so soft, in all the right places… Didn’t your fiance see this? What an idiot…”

Kimberly cracked at the mention of her ex. She was bemused; how did Melanie know so much about her? She never once talked about her ex to her, she was positive. That deep question only made Kimberly despair more, adding a whole other layer of weakness to this increasing power gap.

“He was lucky,” Melanie continued, adjusting a finger so that it was between Kimberly’s kicking legs. The tip of her finger brushed against the modest collection of hair there. “Imaging getting to grab thighs like these, and then fucking the woman they belong to afterwards. That’s ideal. Ahh, so soft~”

“Fuck you! Fuck off!” Kimberly stomped hard at the edges of Melanie’s curious finger. No matter how Kimberly twisted her body, Melanie only ever needed to bend her finger differently to be back into position. It was utterly impossible for this grown woman to prevent this singular hand from molesting her.

“He left you because he didn’t appreciate older women,” Melanie said. “That’s what I think, anyway. You were engaged for so long, and he really saw something better than your… milfy thighs?” Melanie laughed, wishing someone else could find the humor in using the term “milf” in this situation. Kimberly, of course, wasn’t amused.

“He probably just… wants to fuck college girls for the rest of his miserable life,” Melanie theorized. She brought her lips close to Kimberly. Her voice quieted to a chilly whisper, but her breath was so near to Kimberly that it blanketed her with a wet warmth. “Don’t worry, Kim… I’ll appreciate you from now on.”

Kimberly cried, looking into the mouth of the monster that had stolen everything from her. She still couldn’t accept this fate, but at only a few inches tall, there was nothing she could do. Her body was too weak to even be considered human, and Melanie’s words, as hard as Kimberly tried to refuse them, had a poisonous sweetness to them. In the despair and disgust of this turn in her life, there was something enticing about Melanie’s promise, a manufactured hope that was certainly designed to mentally screw with her.

Melanie wanted to leave. She had plenty of time to do as she pleased with Kimberly, and that Wormslut too -- she had something infinitely more important than them to seek. She remembered this passionately as she dug into her bag to pull out a plastic container, the perfect size for containing a shrunken person. She popped off the top, which had already been given a hole for air, and let Kimberly slide into the makeshift prison cell. Melanie observed her trophy while the trophy stared back in horror.

Melanie then went to the pile of clothes that had been left behind. The truth of Kimberly’s situation was that she was merely a test. When shrinking Scarlet, Melanie hadn’t known what to expect. She doubted the spell would even take effect. But after seeing its success, there were areas she wanted to specifically explore. If she wanted to target anyone else in the future, she wanted to be prepared. Fortunately for her, Kimberly made for a perfectly disposable subject, one that could easily be cornered, and whose removal from society would largely go unnoticed.

Kimberly’s discarded outfit held a discovery. They were shrinking, just like Kimberly had been, at exactly the same rate. However, once taken off, they had stopped changing. Whatever the laws of occultic curses were, they seemingly played uniquely with objects that happen to be on the afflicted person. Another discovery, too, was Kimberly’s phone, which had ceased functioning after only shrinking a small percentage. Electronics, Melanie figured, must not respond well to shrinking magic. Or, fucking whatever, she added, none of this makes sense…

Regardless, she couldn’t leave evidence behind. Although it was a chore to drag another woman’s clothes around, Melanie didn’t complain, picking up each article and observing it for a few seconds before placing it in her bag. Kimberly’s jacket hadn’t shrunk much at all, having been removed so soon after the curse started, but her panties were now a prop for a doll, and yet still too big for Kimberly now. Whatever their size might be, all the clothes flooded around Kimberly and her plastic prison within the black messenger bag, including Kimberly’s own gargantuan high heels.

Another person had been shrunken, and as exciting as that in itself was, Melanie was entertained by a whole new series of fantasies. She knew now how her target would feel, and how she would respond. She knew how the curse worked and how to plan it. She was losing track of her own breathing, trembling before these enormous possibilities, the grand potential the tome and its curses had.

“U-Umm, uhh, A-A-Adrian…”

“What’s up.” Adrian peeked her head from over the opposite computer, but she still stared at her screen. It was another night the two were sharing passively with each other in a campus computer room. “Do you need something?”

Melanie fidgeted. Even this little amount of attention from her crush was crippling.

“Melanie?” Adrian asked. Melanie’s heart wanted to erupt for having her name said aloud by her. She glanced up, just in time to see Adrian’s precious look of minor concern. One trait Melanie obsessively loved about her classmate was how she was always so eager to help others, no matter how simple the favor.

“C-Could I… b-borrow your hairbrush…?”