Erik had been plying this girl Kim over the text chat on Syze for the last two days or so. Between the booze and the steamy direction their conversation quickly took, he had let himself hope that he might wind up in her bed the very night they connected, but she had gone totally quiet without warning, leaving him to wonder if she had ghosted him. And then she had started messaging him right back first thing the next morning, as if no time had passed at all.

Rather than feeling rejected, he reveled at the fact that she came back for more. He didn't want to admit it about himself, but the hard-to-get routine only served to raise his interest. So he layed on the charm and the sly sexuality to try and close the deal, hoping that he could secure a time, a place, and, hopefullt, a new and exciting size.

Eventually, he found himself roleplaying over text. He had never done that sort of thing before, in a size context or otherwise, but he had to admit that it was a turn on to casually explore all the possibilities offered by Syze, and learn a bit about Kim's kinks as well. She seemed only interested in being the larger partner; that was fine with him, but, from the way that she was getting into the roleplay, he got the sense that she would really get off on taking charge, even dominating him as a tiny.

Given the profiles he had seen while first swiping through the app, he wasn't too surprised by that. But what really surprised him was how much he liked it.

I shrink you down to three inches. She wrote to him. And I stand over you, looking down. How are you going to prove to me that you're worthy?

Erik, lying in his bed and naked but for his underwear, flicked back to the woman's profile, trying to imagine what that scenario would look like for him. She was barely over five feet tall, so, at that height, he wouldn't even come all the way up to her ankles. He tried to imagine her towering overhead like a skyscraper, looking down with harsh judgement, waiting for him to make his move. It helped to imagine that she would be totally naked; she had a bikini photo on her profile that helped him to fill out the details. He felt the blood rush between his legs.

I throw myself at your feet, begging for my goddess' mercy.

He thought for a moment, then added a second line.

My voice is too small for you to hear. I secretly hope you'll crush me.

Kim, for her part, did not seem interested in letting him control the narrative line, but wasn't afraid to crank up the eroticism either. After a few seconds of the little bubble that said she was typing, during which Erik's mind swam with the possibilities of what she wanted to do with him, she finally sent her reply.

I pinch you off the ground between my thumb and forefinger and hold you over my panties, pulling open the waistband. Do you deserve to serve my pussy, little man?

I will serve it to my dying breath, goddess.

I drop you headfirst into my panties and let go of the underwear. How do you prove your worth?

It felt like a school creative writing prompt, but they normally didn't make him this hard. He typed furiously on his phone to keep the energy up.

I find your clit as quick as I can. I grab it with both hands and squeeze it and push it and rub it. Does it feel good, goddess?

I can feel your struggles, but they feel more like panic. Are you just trying to escape? Have you given up?

Hard to get, and hard to please. He wasn't sure what she was expecting out of him, but he figured she would take control, just as if it were real life and he was as small as she had described. The thought of it, the very fact that they could make it real if they would just meet in person, was electrifying, a and he had to take his hand off his dick to respond, drawing on poetry and libido in equal measures.

I push my hands deeper into your flesh. I love the smell and the taste of you. All I want is to please you.

Your struggles are pathetic. I reach into my waistband and shove you headfirst into my vagina without a second thought.

God, she was escalating fast, and he loved it. What would that even feel like? He tried to imagine it, being entombed in flesh, drowning in heat and stench... He allowed himself a few strokes at the idea of it before typing out his response.

I kick and push as hard as I can. I know where your G-spot it and I want to make you lose control.

The squirming of your tiny body is just enough to remind me that you're there. I guess I'll have to do the job myself.

Erik's mild annoyance at how Kim seemed to be ignoring him was overcome by the sheer eroticism of the scenario she was laying out. Would it actually play out like that, or would he be able to please her if she left him up close and personal with her most tender flesh? They would have to meet in person to find out, and he absolutely couldn't fucking wait. The bubble popped up that she was still typing, so he let her get a second line in.

Can you hear that, tiny man? That's my vibrator. Having you trapped inside me is making me so horny...

Erik wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he liked the sound of it, and she didn't really seem to care about his input anyway. God, he hoped that this was a preview of a real-life experience to come. He threw out another line, just to keep things flowing.

Over your heartbeat, I can barely hear the buzzing. I keep kicking and punching, stronger than before.

I lay down on your bed and pull off my panties. From the outside, there is no sign that you're even inside me.

Your bed, she said. That was promising. Was she hinting at something? He hastily typed out an agreement.

I am surrounded head to toe in your flesh. Can you feel me, goddess? Am I pleasing yuo?

Ah, fuck, a typo. Erik thought about correcting it, but the bubble popped up that she was typing already. No point in ruining the mood.

Try not to get crushed by my pussy muscles when I cum.

Could that even happen? Syze was pretty explicit about how tough the tinies were, but maybe she just got off on the fantasy. What was the harm in indulging her?

My body is yours, goddess.

My vibrator touches my clit, and my pussy muscles immediately clench hard. Can you breathe in there, little slave?

Erik thought for a moment. Did she want him to play like he was dying in her pussy, or should he insist that he was as invincible while shrunken as the app promised? Being crushed to death by a giantess' orgasm was one hell of a way to go, but it couldn't actually happen on the app anyway, so what was the harm?

Your vagina is so strong. I can't move, I can't even breathe. When it lets up, I panic. Let me out!

So that's what real panic feels like. It finally feels good, little man.

Goddess, please, have mercy.

I push my middle finger into my vagina, shoving you even deeper. It's so much stronger than you.

Erik was already at the point where he was masturbating aggressively. It was weird, but it was hot as hell. He stopped only to type his replies.

I reach up and try to grab onto your fingertip, but I lose my grip. I'm trapped all the way inside my goddess.

He realized only belatedly that, in the roleplay, he had gone inside her head-first, so he had impossibly flipped around inside her. She was typing again already, though, so she didn't care.

I push the vibrator up against my clit. My pussy squeezes again, harder this time.

The pressure is too much to bear. I try to scream but your muscles squeeze all the air out of my body.

I turn the vibrator up, and my pussy clenches hard. Did I just feel your bones break inside me?

Erik paused, phone in one hand and cock in the other. What a twisted bitch! Thank God that Syze made the tinies nearly invincible, or men everywhere would be getting ground into paste by sadistic women with over-trained pelvic muscles. It was still pretty hot, though.

I hear a crack, and pain shoots down my left arm. I try to scream, but there's only flesh and fluid. Goddess, please!

The typing bubble appeared again, and stayed there for a while. Kim must be up to some really perverted shit, but Erik didn't care, he could keep stroking himself while she churned out the next turn in her fantasy.

I laugh, and my pussy squeezes you hard with each giggle. "I'm almost there, little slave," I shout over the vibrator. "Stay alive and I'll keep you around for round two!"

Erik had been with his fair share of women, and not a one of them was capable of monologues while approaching orgasm.  Whatever. He was having fun too. She was already typing again, but he slid in a quick response just to keep things lubed up.

I try to shout back, but I can only cough.

I finally come, and my entire body convulses to crush your pathetic form. I feel your bones crunch inside me with the first contraction, and I feel more crunching with the second. When my orgasm finishes, I lean up, and what's left of you slowly starts to leak out of me.

Holy shit.

At least you were good for one orgasm. Where do you live?

Erik paused only briefly, hand on his dick and mid-stroke. He wanted nothing more than to have her come over, but the fantasy was so vivid... Could she actually do that to him?

He checked his Syze settings. He wasn't going to die even if she ran over him with her car. Just to be sure, he Googled "Syze" and "crush" and every other combination of words that covered that quick roleplay session he could think of. Everything corroborated what he already knew; once she shrank him, there was nothing she could do to harm him.

Satisfied, but incredibly intrigued, he punched in his address. Her response was almost immediate.

I'm coming over.

Erik lept out of bed, his erection bouncing around comically but temporarily forgotten. His apartment was absolutely not ready for her. Bedsheets. Dishes. Clothing. Ah, fuck, laundry. No time for that. Second best clothing then. He wouldn't be wearing it for long anyway. Vacuum the pubes out of the corner of the bathroom. Shove the mess on the table into a drawer.

He was just about sure that the apartment was presentable when he heard a knock at the door. God damn, that was quick. He passed by the mirror in the bathroom just to make sure he was as presentable as he was going to get, and opened the door to see Kim standing there, wearing an athletic shirt, short shorts, her phone in her hand and a bag over her shoulder, looking for all the world like she had just finished murdering a man with her pussy muscles.

"Hey," Erik said. Confidence, confidence, ignore anything wrong about the apartment that you missed. "Come in."

Kim strolled in with all the confidence that Erik wished that he had, and kicked the door shut behind her. She looked around briefly, then at him with a pointed expression. She hoisted her phone, and showed him the screen. The Syze matching option was displayed prominently, and she had clearly already selected 'match' on his profile.

"Oh, right." Erik fumbled for his phone, and pressed the 'match' button on her profile as well. He heard the distinctive 'pa-ting!' notification, and Kim smiled a toothy grin at him.

"Clothes," she ordered.

Erik stripped like he had spent every night of his life in the Fashion District, throwing his clothes as far away as he could manage. Once he was in his birthday suit, Kim looked him up and down, satisfied, and then he started to shrink.

It was quick, and it was highly disorienting. It wasn't just that he was getting closer to the floor. That would have been easy. But not only did the floor rush up at him from below, but everything around seemed to get farther away, growing incomprehensibly, turning his shoebox of an apartment into a vast cathedral. The air seemed colder, the smells grew weirder, and all the background sounds of his apartment, the whirring and buzzing of electronics he never thought about, seemed to be coming from farther away. In seconds, he found himself staring up at a true goddess. He didn't even come up past the soles of her feet.

It was absolutely nothing like he had expected. Her legs, smooth and pale, were infinite in height. Her eyes, huge and brown and wicked, were so far away that it seemed impossible that she would see him, but her gaze was fixed on him. It was all the breathtaking scale of a mountain with the heart-stopping, awesome terror of being in the water with a giant predator.

Her right foot shifted back slightly, and he watched the shock of the motion travel all the way up her leg. He could see in between folds of her loose-fitting clothing, her bare belly, the underside of her bra, even a sliver of her panties visible up one of the legs of her shorts. But they were so huge, and so far away, that they seemed more like careful details in a divine monument than teases of the eroticism to come.

She leaned forwards, depriving him of the view, and her hair spilled over her shoulders, creating a halo of free-waving dark strands around her angular face. Her right hand, the one holding the phone, came down, and he was so captivated by how he could see all the way up the sleeve of her shirt to her bare armpit that he didn't even notice her fingers until they wrapped around him.

Thumb and forefinger, just as she had promised. They pinched him mercilessly around the chest, effortlessly driving the air from his lungs. His mouth gaped like a fish caught out of water, unable to draw in air amidst the pressure. Was she squeezing him deliberately, or was he so small that it was impossible for her to truly be gentle?

God, could she actually make that fantasy of hers a reality?

In a single movement, so massive and so disorienting that his brain found it easier to pretend that he had more or less teleported, he found himself standing on top of the giantess' phone, held up like a little table for him. Underneath his feet, the screen glowed gently, and it took a second for him to realize that the image underneath him was his own Syze profile.

God damn. That photo he used as his headline was right underneath his feet. The touchscreen was so sensitive that it moved, ever so slightly, under his naked feet whenever he shifted around to look at it. His own face on the tiny screen was bigger than he was.

The phone shook slightly underneath him, and the screen turned off. He looked up at Kim, making eye contact with the giantess for the first time since he shrank, but she was digging through her purse. She produced a small tin of mints, and then set it down next to him on top of the screen. As if standing on top of a smartphone that was the size of a bus wasn't enough, when she popped open the mints, washing him in an overpowering scent and showing a half-full case of treats that were as large as he was, he started to really appreciate exactly how small he was.

Thumb and forefinger attacked him again, catching him totally off guard yet a second time, but it only lasted a second. She pitched him forwards into the case of mints, and he didn't even have the time to react before she slammed the lid shut, encasing him in darkness.

He coughed uncontrollably. The peppermint odor was eye-wateringly powerful. He could almost feel it in his skin. Before he could get his bearings, gravity shifted, and he tumbled sideways into the bottom hinge of the tin, an avalanche of mints following him down and burying him at the bottom.

The rhythm of motion that followed was fairly tame, and easy to get used to. The subtle lifting of her stepping forwards and the gentle bump of her foot hitting the ground. It wasn't enough to disturb his mint-filled prison, so he was able to try to push the candies that covered him aside and climb back to the top. He expected it to be difficult, but they were surprisingly light. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced; boulders fell aside like they weighed as much as beach balls. It wasn't anywhere near as hard as he had thought, but getting out from underneath didn't do a lot for him; his blanket of mints was now a bed; but he was still trapped in the same suffocating metal prison.

Erik wasn't totally sure what Kim was up to now, but it was easy to imagine that she was still just playing with him. She had captured him, and was going back to her place to play the cruel goddess with her new slave. In the boredom of his tiny prison, probably buried at the bottom of her purse, he let his thoughts run wild with the idea, listening to the sounds from outside and imagining where she was and what she was doing.

How would he react once she really got started? In a casual few seconds, she had shown him the incredible power she had over him while he was at this size, and how disorienting, how all-encompassing the experience of being this small could be. It was impossible to be cool-headed when he was tumbling head over heels through space, and fingers the size of tree trunks were darting nimbly around him. The near-invincibility promised by Syze was easy to forget, and all he could think was how small and vulnerable he was.

If anything, she had already shown him that his imagination had been wholly insufficient. What would it be like to be this size while she was getting up to something more exciting? Or while she was explicitly trying to make him suffer?

All he could do was wonder as he listened to the sounds from outside. Walking, car door, engine, driving, Top 40 radio, more driving... He honestly expected her to at least say something, but she was treating him like she treated all the mints in the case with him. Minutes crawled by, boredom and anticipation leaving Erik uncertain what to feel, or what to expect next.

The engine cut out, keys rattled, the door opened, and back to the rhythm of walking. Were they home now? More walking, walking, walking. For a very long time. Voices, the sound of a crowd... Where the heck were they going?

"Unattended baggage is a security risk, and may be removed and destroyed in accordance with TSA regulations."

The echoing voice, female and totally devoid of emotion, took a second to connect in Erik's brain; it was the kind of background noise that he almost never paid attention to in the real world. But, when he finally realized that he had heard it at all, it was confusing at first, and then he started to connect all the rest of the sounds around him, and a sudden panic set in.

The airport? What? This was not part of the deal. He wanted out, or at least he wanted her to explain himself. But his sudden change of mind didn't change the fact that he was still trapped in a tin of mints, with neither the size nor the strength to break free. And, even if he did he was still at the bottom of her purse. And, even if he got out of that, he was still smaller than a fucking breath mint, and she controlled his size. Did she have his phone with her?

A rustling, a click, and light flooded his metal prison, along with a wash of fresh air. He looked up, and all he could see was her thumb and forefinger coming back down through the open mouth of the mint tin. They were massive, fast-moving, and absolutely merciless. He didn't even have time to think about dodging before they pinched together around him, and one of the mints, like a vice.

He was lifted rapidly out of the case, as her other three fingers closed the lid dextrously behind him, and then he was ripped out across the open air, too fast to process. Crowds, noise, fluorescent lights, nondescript carpet, shoes, a flash of cleavage, lips, teeth, tongue, saliva, heat...

Her mouth closed down around him, and her fingers disappeared, leaving him and a single mint alone in his new prison. It happened faster than it could be described. One moment, he was in a cool, minty, metal cage, and the next, he was in a cavern of flesh and teeth, stifling heat and stench.

His bed of uneven, rocky candies was replaced with the heaving, twitching wet muscle of her tongue. And, almost as soon as he hit it, it showed its incredible dexterity by tilting the mint to the side and depositing it in her cheek, on the other side of her solid white teeth, and then heaving upwards to press him mercilessly against the roof of her mouth.

God, it was so fast, and it was terrifying. He felt the bone-deep fear of a prey animal. He was already inside her mouth, and it had happened too fast for him to even resist. There was no escaping now, her tongue was a thousand times stronger than him; she could swallow, and that would be it for him.

And then she did. It was a deafening, gulking sound, wet flesh slapping against flesh, muscles churning, something slipping down into the unknowable depths of her throat, but it wasn't him. He was still pinned up against the roof of her mouth. She had just swallowed a little extra spit, that was all.

But he was next. Or she was toying with him. Or she was savoring him like a living mint, as the real mint started to dissolve in the hot spit that surrounded him. The saliva turned slightly sweet, and the hot, sour air of her breath mingled with the overwhelming stench of peppermint from his previous prison. He looked around in panic, waiting for the end to come. Her teeth were everywhere, her tongue was hyperactive, the darkness at the back of her throat seemed as inevitable as death. Her tongue heaved upwards again and pressed him mercilessly against her palate, and she sucked on him briefly. The hot air in her mouth disappeared when she did so, sucking away the saliva that coated his body and even pulling their air from his own lungs. He gaped like a fish dying on the docks, and then she swallowed again, sucking it all down.

But, again, he was spared. Air came back, and he took a ragged breath, rich with the taste of peppermint.

Her tongue tilted, he slipped through her teeth, and was quickly tucked away underneath her bottom gums, right beside the rapidly-dissolving mint. It felt almost safe, like she was satisfied just to suck on him instead of swallowing him whole, but his lizard brain was still in full-blown panic mode. It's not like he could fight, though; her cheek pressed in from outside, holding him fast against her gums.

The noise was incredible. He couldn't hear anything coming from the outside world over the chaos of flesh and fluid, the measured, cavernous sound of her breathing, the distant but omnipresent pulsing of her heartbeat. Every once in a while, she sucked down more of her tasty mint, and his ears popped at the massive and rapid change in pressure, before she swallowed with a deafening gulp that drowned out everything else.

It lasted forever, or it lasted just a few minutes. Erik was locked in a state of permanent panic, so he had no idea what was going on. The more rational side of his brain knew that, if she was actually going to eat him, she would have done it by now, but the rest of his body was acting out the million year-old instinct of a mouse trapped between the jaws of a T-rex. And, like the tiny mammal who met its end as a monster's snack, absolutely nothing he did would change whatever Kim chose to do to him.

After an hour... Or was it a day? Or had it only been a few minutes? The mint was all gone, that's all he knew... Her tongue slipped between her teeth and sought him out, scooping him out from her cheek and tossing him effortlessly, chaotically around the inside of her mouth.    

He spilled down to the front of her tongue, pressed up the unyielding enamel of her lower teeth, and then her thumb and forefinger came into her mouth with him, seeking him out effortlessly and grabbing hold of him without mercy. They had almost the entire lower two-thirds of his body pinned, and dragged him out of her mouth and back out into the open air.

Again, the motion was absolutely chaotic, too much and too fast for him to handle except as stitching it together as a series of linear events after the fact. The air was freezing cold against his wet skin. Dim fluorescent lights, clean white floor-to-ceiling tiles, the faint smell of an especially aggressive air freshener, a toilet...

Kim was seated on the toilet, her shorts and underwear a bundle around her ankles. She wasn't even looking at him, her purse in her lap, her phone resting on her left knee, a small case of mints open in her left hand. He span acrosss an infinite expanse of empty space in half a second, and slammed into an uneven bed of rocky candy, as suffocating stench of peppermint rising from around him.

Thumb and forefinger let go of him, and he could finally look back up at her. She was hardly even looking at him, disinterested expression looking just past him, maybe at her phone? Her fingers shifted, grabbed one of the mints from beside him, and she popped it into her mouth.

Then those big brown eyes of hers, rich with the experience of her casual cruelty towards him, fixed on him like a laser. He cringed involuntarily, waiting for the next thing to come, but all she did was waggle her eyebrows. She stuck out her tongue, showing the mint resting right in the middle. Just long enough as if to say this could be you, then sucked it back into her mouth with a quiet slurping sound.

The lid on the mints slammed shut, plunging him into darkness and locking him into the suffocating atmosphere of peppermint and sugar. Just like last time, gravity shifted, an avalanche of candy came tumbling down on top of him, and then all was finally, blessedly still.

The whole thing took less than five seconds; so quick that his skin was still wet with her spit; he had to lie there, absolutely still underneath a pile of boulder-sized mints, trying to stitch it all together into something his brain could make sense of. Okay, she had popped him into her mouth, just like that mint, sucked on him for a few minutes, or a few hours... or maybe just a few seconds... It felt like forever but he knew it couldn't be that long, then decided she was tired of him? Back into the mint case he went?

The bathroom was unusually nice, but it was still an airport. Maybe she was trying to make it onto the plane, and didn't want to put him through an X-ray machine with the rest of the things in her purse. Was that to save him, or was that to hide him from the authorities? Did she still have his phone on him?

Or maybe she just liked toying with him. The bone-deep, heart-wrenching terror was gone, but, as he lay there trying to process all that had just happened to him, he found it being replaced with a certain sense of... desire? She could do it all over again in an instant, maybe even swallow him this time, and, unbelievably, his dick started to grow hard at the thought.

The mint that she had shown him on her tongue... That could have been him. For a minute, it had been, and he kind of wished that it could be again.

But he had to wait. He could hear, muffled through the fabric of her purse and the metal prison that he shared with the mints, the continued background sounds of the airport. A vague mass of noise that was a thousand conversations, a child crying, the anodyne female voice of the PA echoing overhead...

The boarding announcements, the wide sounds of the airport collapsing into the confined space of the boarding bridge, then the even smaller space of the airplane itself... Fans, more conversations, more announcements, jet turbines, rumbling down the runway...

These were the rhythms of travel he had heard and felt a hundred times before, but he had no idea where he was going. Sitting at the bottom of a tin of mints, with literally no way to escape and nowhere to go even if he did, so, once the fear of being almost eaten, and the surprising realization afterwards that it was his fetish, had faded, all that was left was skull-numbing boredom. He couldn't even muster the energy to be afraid or curious about what was going to happen to him.

For a very, very long time, absolutely nothing changed. He didn't have a watch, and he didn't have anything to do. He never got particularly hungry; he tried taking a bite out of one of the mints, but it was like trying to eat a boulder made out of pure peppermint; and he never got thirsty. He never even really had to use the bathroom, which she had to know, right? Did she want her new toy pissing all over her mints?

Apparently, shrinking did more to you than just make you invincible. Human needs, even the simple fragility of the flesh, were irrelevant. That meant that there was nothing that he could do, and nothing that he needed to do, but to be the perfect little sex toy for his mistress. The thought of it, and the possibilities it opened up, made his mind spin and his cock hard.

When he worked up the energy to masturbate, it was a very normal amount of semen that came out. So he actually could do someting to her mints even if he never had to use the bathroom. An atom of cum; she wouldn't taste it even if she knew it was there, but it was something.

But, by and large, all there was for him was boredom. He slipped into a nap every once in a while, and that was even more disorienting. Waking up was a groggy experience of rediscovering how small he was, where he was, how he had gotten there, and then a leftover, unanswered mystery of how long it had been and where he was going. Hours, he was sure. Maybe one or two, maybe ten, maybe a hundred? What was the longest flight in the world? Or had he been asleep while she had disembarked and moved onto a second plane? He thought he would have been woken up by such a disturbance, but he had no way of knowing.

He hadn't traveled a ton, but he was reasonably sure that there was no flight that was longer than twenty-four hours, and he had never taken one that was shorter than one. So, assuming that he hadn't missed it when she moved onto a second plane, it couldn't be longer than a single day since he had been shrunk. That still left open a world of possibilities, and, with every minute that passed, an increasingly large distance from home that he could have been taken.

Maybe she was going on vacation, and had decided, in her dominance fantasy, that he would be coming with him, whether he liked it or not. He couldn't imagine going on a vacation with a first date, but the rules were different with Syze, weren't they? He didn't have to pay for a ticket, he didn't have to pay for the hotel room, and she knew by now that he didn't have to go back to work until the school year was back in session. She could just snap him up and take him wherever she was going, for business or for pleasure.

Hopefully for pleasure.

Hawaii would be nice, but did it really matter for him? If he was lucky, all of his scenery would be the inside of a hotel room, the inside of her clothes, or the inside of her body.

Would it be this boring, though? If she left him inside her vagina to serve her for an hour, or two, or however long this fucking flight was, would he get bored of it? Would he slip into and out of dazed naps?

His dick started to get hard again just thinking about it. Yeah, a giantess' pussy was way more exciting than a tin of mints.

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up again. This time, the sounds around him were different. Very different. There was no steady background whine of an airplane, there wasn't even the busy, noisy rhythms of an airport. There was just... silence. Or near to it.

In his post-nap groggy confusion, he stretched out his senses, trying to figure out where was or what was happening. The rhythm of her walking, he knew what that felt like... But nothing else. Just the quiet tap, tap, tap of her feet hitting the ground, matching the gentle rise and fall of her gait.

Were they in their hotel now? Had he managed to sleep through the tedium of landing, baggage, and the Uber? Straight to the action, right?

Voices. He didn't know what they were saying at first, too muffled... No, wait, not too muffled. That was a totally different language. He didn't know a word of it. He didn't even know what it sounded like. His heart sank, all the anticipation that had built up over the last however many hours vanished, and the fear he had felt at first came rushing back.

Where the fuck was he?

Gravity shifted again, and whatever sense he could make of the outside world was replaced with the noisy, rattling chaos of being tossed around inside the case with all the mints, like an ant trapped in a rock tumbler. A moment of stillness, just long enough for him to get his bearings, and the lid of the tin opened up, washing him in blinding light and freezing fresh air.

He threw his arm over his face, trying to shield himself, his entire body, from the sudden exposure to the punishment of the outside world. As his eyes adjusted, he gradually relaxed, and looked up.

Overhead, loose dark brown hair framing her angular features, Kim stared down at him with a smug half-smile on her face. And then, to his horror, a second face came into view. Her amber brown hair was pulled back, her bright brown eyes seemed like the picture of innocence, and her grin, filled with perfect white teeth, split her entire face from cheek to cherub-like cheek.

"Alright, little slave," Kim said. The first words she had spoken directly to him in hours, if not days. "Meet your new mistress."

The other giantess' grin spread even wider, narrowing her eyes to joyous slits, and she waved cheerily. Her greeting, however, was not in English. He didn't even know what language it was, but it sounded... Chinese? Japanese?

By the time it all set in, and the unbidden "Oh, fuck," came to Erik's lips, the mint case had already slammed shut again.