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Author's Chapter Notes:
This started out as a gift to a friend, a short RP Greeting(http://www.writing.com/main/interact/item_id/1409975) but grew into a full story. Here it is for everyone to enjoy.
The woman sighed a bit as she looked out over the crowd. It had been a busy week, and a nice, quiet one at that, which was rare. The town they were playing in, the gigs you had booked, were all low level venues, including a prom, a morp(Girls asking guys to the dance), a barn raising, still not sure how that one got in there, and this place, a small coffee shop just off main street of the small town. Seemingly, these gigs had been just that, gigs, with nothing special about them, though the pay was better than such things normally did.

Then she had come up. A big time record company exec. She was from this small town originally, and had been here to take a vacation from her normal life up in one of the big cities. Of course, being an exec in the modern world meant mixing business with pleasure frequently, and she had been to everyone of her shows, and now the guitar player was holding in her hands a contract, almost a million a year, with options for upgrades and everything else.

The deal made, you'd taken your cut of the profits and split, which left her with nothing to do as she gazed out of the back room at the people out there. The place, that same small coffee house, was packed full, and the guys, the drummer, the bass player, and the other girl who played a violin of all things, were all out there among them, just chatting away, like nothing had changed today, when that contract had literally landed in their laps.

That was the biggest thing that could ever happen to musicians like them, bigger than anything that had happened to them in all the years they had been playing, yet nothing seemed different. Except, you weren’t there. Of course, she had never bothered to check her socks for something on them when she’d gotten them on in the dressing room the coffee shop had setup for her. Had she bothered to look at the special, padded socks that helped her to keep on her feet all night, she might have noticed your tiny form, hanging off of a thread.

You had been as excited at she had when the exec had signed the band, though you knew it would be the end of your tour with them. They were going on to bigger and better things, and would get a professional booking agent, and you would retire into the background, getting a residual of about 2.5% of all the band’s future earnings. A modest sum, considering how much you could have asked for, though you doubted any of the band yet realized how much that would be, while you, leaving them behind, would search for the next set of names to propel into the lime light.

This was about the 6th time you’d done this, which was one of the reasons you knew it worked. A few good gigs in certain venues always worked to get your finds into stardom, and you another chunk of changes on a regular basis. As it was you’d saved up enough to retire on, if you wanted to, and then some. Which was why you were in he dressing room an hour before the show, knowing she would be asleep on the couch in it..

You’d splurged on something online, something you knew would fulfill an old, if somewhat weird, fantasy of your’s you’d had since you were a kid. As you knew she would be, she was asleep, naked, on the couch that had been provided, something she did before every show, staying in her room near the stage most of the night before, nude, and playing. She thought it brought her closer in tune with the music, and you had always thought it odd, yet, you’d always wished to be in the room, to watch her. Never would you give such a desire voice, however, at least, not in front of the band.

Now, knowing you were leaving, you had decided to act on that desire, and sneaking toward her, you fingered the odd ampoule in your pocket, and smiled. Striping yourself, you tossed your garments over into a corner, smiling down at her body as she lay there, fast asleep, looking like some kind of picture or statue of an old goddess of love. Such beauty was rare, even in the entertainment industry, especially considering it’s natural origins in her body.

Smiling, you moved a small plant to hide your clothes, and then put the ampoule to your neck, grunting a bit as it fired into you, injecting you with the stuff inside. It was a few moments before you could think after that, as the stuff made you dizzy, and you almost dropped the damn thing and woke her up, only just catching it, and then placing it with the rest of your stuff. Looking around at the room, you realized why the stuff made you dizzy. It all seemed to be moving, as if everything was changing, though, according to the ad, only you were changing, slowly shrinking away into nothing.

Well, not nothing. The ad had said you would stop at just above the invisible level, with the dosage you’d given yourself. You would be able to get attention, if it came to that, though you would be pretty hard to see. Quickly making your way toward the sleeping woman, you smirked at her, wondering just how close you would be able to get. She was laying on her back, sleeping soundly, her hand resting on the back of the couch, and her stomach, left and right, respectively.

This made for an interesting way to get onto her, as you noted her arm was almost straight. If you could somehow get into her palm without awakening her, you could literally slide onto her body, and then take a walk around her, and then get off before she awoke. That was the plan, anyway. It had been an odd fetish of your’s for years to do something like this, to explore a woman’s body, touching her in ways no man really could, and then slip away without her being aware.

You wouldn’t touch her womanhood, or any of that area, so you felt that this wasn’t too big an invasion of privacy. Hell, the two of you had already been like that twice, during the band’s tours. It had been, interesting then, and she’d pushed you to your limit both times, wearing you out, and leaving you gasping for breath on the bed, as she actually tried to get you to go another round, her energy seemingly boundless as she smiled at you.

Climbing onto the back of the couch while you still could, you gazed down at her, your height only about a foot and a half now. You would probably have looked like some weird doll to her, if she’d been awake to see you, and for a moment, she’d frightened you out of your wits as she moved a bit, wiggling on the couch, but then settling back down with a sigh, as whatever had been happening in her dream passed on, and she was left asleep.

Breathing a bit more easily, you began to walk softly toward her outstretched hand. If she had been awake, that position with her fingers curled the way they were would have been one hell of an invite to the person she was looking at. For you, it was as if she knew what you were doing, and was encouraging you. Not that you needed much, as you continued to dwindle away, already just an inch or so tall, and still shrinking. The stuff was working slower now, and you were feeling less dizzy.

That was good for you, as you got to her hand, staring at the flesh. Already her flat hand was higher than you were, and would require a bit of climbing to get up, though less than you expected. Being very gentle, or at least, as much as a climber could be, you drug yourself up the side of her hand, and then fell into her palm, feeling the heat of her body filter through your’s, and just laying there for a few moments, both to see if she stayed asleep, and to let yourself bask in her presence.

Coming off of your sensation high, you shook your head a bit to clear it, and slowly started toward the bottom edge of her palm, noticing how big everything seemed as he literally slipped into a trench, only to realize a moment later that it was merely one of the lines on her palm. You think to yourself that maybe you should have been paying more attention to what they ad on the net meant when it called the dosage just barely visible, as you were pretty sure you were reaching invisibility fast.

Still, the stuff was supposed to wear off after an hour or so. Well, two or three actually, as the stuff had warned the higher the dose, the longer it took to filter out of your system. You figured, if worst came to worst, you could hide somewhere for that time. Even if you grew back inside her bra, it would be one hell of a trip, and she could sue all she wanted, you’d always have the memories of this moment, of this time exploring her form, the size of an island to you. No, a world unto herself.

And then you were there. Staring out over that cliff, you smiled, and then laughed, though you quickly stifled it. The view was…well, divine was the only word that seemed appropriate. No longer was she merely the statue of a goddess. Now she was a goddess herself. Something grand and glorious, beyond the scope of humanity. It was as if you had stepped out of your own world, and into another, one shaped like a living woman, and moving with her life.

Taking a moment to absorb all this, you looked toward her arm, and gauged your descent, soon deciding just to throw caution to the wind. You’d heard once that if people ever could shrink, that only getting up high would be a problem. Like a small bacteria or something, once a shrunken person was less than a foot tall, they would be able to drop from chairs and the like without injuring themselves, something about the reduced mass having a lower terminal velocity.

Thinking this, you wondered just how fast you would be able to fall, as you swallowed once, and then steeled yourself for the jump, taking a running leap at the edge, and then drifting off into space for a moment, before plummeting, and thumping against her wrist and starting to slide down the length of her arm. And slide you did, the smooth skin, with a few bumps, yet not so many as you had expected, providing a nice slick surface.

The slide lasted for a while, almost like those guys who’d slid down Mt. Everest with their pickaxes, though you doubted that some dreary old stone felt as exhilarating as this. Her warmth was building as you got closer to her body, and you could see her chest rise and fall with her breath, the mounds on her chest, about medium sized when you were normal, appearing to be mountains in and of themselves, and ones you would conquer, before the hour was through.

The glorious fall seemed to last forever to you, and you wished it really could have near the end, but then, like all good things, it stopped, and you struck the flesh at her shoulder, just to the side of her neck. The landing was soft, as her skin just barely dimpled under you, but then you found yourself rolling, and when you struck her collarbone, you umphed in discomfort. Obviously, despite your low velocity, you were still a lot more easily injured at this height.

Getting up, moving your shoulder a bit to make sure it hadn’t actually been injured in the tumble, you look over at her head. Of course, the angle makes it impossible to see anything. To you, her body appears to be nothing less than a sheer cliff face, extending up into the sky miles, before vanishing in a curve. The whole sight was enough that you could feel your breath get caught in your throat for a moment, as you started to back away, moving up the gentle slope onto her breasts.

Turning away from her head as the slope began to grow even steeper, you started to have to work for every inch you got up it. She was well built, that was true, but you never realized just how much so. Every curve of her body was before you now, and it made you overawed as you kept climbing, finding her breathing to be enough to pick you up and blow you forward as it came out of her mouth and blew across her chest for a moment.

Landing on her nipple, you smile to yourself as you feel the soft flesh move and bounce with her heartbeat. This was so much more than you had ever dreamed of. The sensation, the smell, the feel, the sound, the taste of it all, so much that you can’t help but feel yourself aroused. You are so into it, that you fail to notice the timer nearby suddenly starting to blink as it counts down, and then shines brightly as it goes off, a loud screeching sound filling the room.

The guitarist wakes up instantly, and her first action is to roll over, her chest suddenly going vertical as she raises her arm up to smack the timer, her wakeup alarm. Your perch on her nipple is lost, though you make a valiant effort to remain on it, wrapping your puny arms around it, and finding it just enough to let you stay on, until the vertical wall starts to tilt even farther, and you slip off her body, into the open air, plummeting straight toward the floor.

You scream, of course. After all, even if you won’t be killed, which is something you’re not too sure about in and of itself, this is going to hurt, a lot, as the hard wood floor rushed up at you. Closing your eyes, you expected to be crippled by the impact, and missed your goddess of a guitarist rise from her couch, and pull a pair of socks right under you, letting you land with only a minor bump, as the fabric didn’t even dimple under your miniscule mass.

Opening your eyes as you land, you sigh in relief, thanking whatever god watched over perverts like yourself that your weren’t injured, or worse. Of course, luck is two sided, and in this case, the second side happens to darken your sky as you lay there, causing you to turn around and scream again, as you stare at the sole of her foot, the size of a train, as it barrels down out of the sky toward you, as if ready to crush you into a smear on the fabric of the sock.

The foot misses by miles, though you don’t realize that for a few moments, and then start to breath again only as she gets up and walks around the room, starting to gather up some clothes for the concert. With such a good view from down here, and a nice comfortable seat on which to lay, you just watch from on her sock as she gets into a tight pair of jeans, the fabric making a grinding noise against her skin as she works it along her bottom.

Next she dons that t-shit he wore during shows. Like her nudity beforehand, this was a tradition of hers, as that shirt had been in her wardrobe for years before she started playing, and then, she’d had it on when she met you and played her first professional gig. The thing was lucky, according to her, and since it was plain white, and covered enough to please most censors, she never had to wear anything else, the plainness of her outfit making her stand out in the band, thanks to the others wearing things that were far from normal.

Her next step, literally, is to walk over to you again, and you look straight up between her legs, wondering why the view when she’s clothed is so much more arousing than the one when she was naked. Before you can figure this out however, you mind suddenly brings to your attention a detail you had missed. You were on her socks, and now that she had pants and a shirt on, those were next on her list of things to slip into for the show.

Quickly, you try to remedy the mistake, but as small as you are, the sock is the size of a city block, and even if you had tried to get off it when you’d first fallen onto the thing, rather than staring at her like some horny teenage boy, there probably wouldn’t have been time. As it was, you were suddenly flipped around, as she grabbed the piece of clothing with one hand, and then jammed her other one into it, making it inside out, and leaving you trapped in a cavern of softness.

And it got even softer a moment later as her foot, looking like some kind of avalanche of flesh, comes rolling into the sock, pushing its way inside. You, thanks to your position, are currently trapped by a few loose threads of the socks weave, and so, are able to maintain your position as the guitarist slides her foot into the sock, pressing you upward as you lay on top of her foot, and then get the wind taken from you as she starts to walk around.

Pressed into the soft, upper flesh of her foot as she slips on a par of shoes, you are caught in a wave of warmth, and realize that this isn’t too bad. After all, the sock is soft, so she can stay on her feet most of the night, and the stepping motion is sort of like a roller coaster, going up and down rapidly, and giving you only a few moments to catch a breath in between steps. Heck, the smell isn’t even that bad, thanks to her not having been wearing anything between her last bath and now.

So you decide to stay where you are, moaning a little as you are pressed into the skin of her foot, feeling not only her warmth, but the beating of her heart, with each step she takes, right up to the stage, to begin her show. The coffee house is packed, and the show looks to be a long one, which only makes her more excited, increasing her heart rate, causing her veins to gently massage your body, your erection coming twice before the show even begins, and then, as you hear the muffled sounds of her addressing the crowd, and the ride begins to become a rocking motion, back and forth, you drift off to sleep.

You awaken suddenly, as the pressure above you is lifted, and you realize that she must have taken off her shoes. The show was over, not that you missed much. After all, you knew all the band’s songs, and you couldn’t enjoy the visuals of her jumping around on the stage, her chest heaving with her deep gulps of air that let her maintain notes longer than anyone had a right too. Still, you were kind of weirded out that nothing had awoken you.

The moves she normally pulled off were quite violent, especially the jumps, and that should have woken you up, or so you think, as you were tossed about. You are given little additional time to imagine anything though as a crushing pressure comes from above, and you hear a deep rumbling sound. Having not tried to hear anything earlier, you had missed the fact that you really couldn’t make out the words of those in the larger world around you, though as the pressure moved around, making the foot move, you realize she is massaging her foot a bit, probably more than a little sore from the show.

Before you can do anything else, the world suddenly becomes violent, and you are flipped around, over and out, and then tossed into the open air, getting a view of her as she sits on the couch again. It doesn’t take you but a moment to figure out that she must have torn the sock off her foot, and you, being on the inside which was suddenly the outside, had literally been torn out of the fabric, the thread that had been holding you snapping, and letting you fly free into the air.

Keeping your eyes open this time, despite your instincts telling you to shut them tight, you look forward, and gaze at a soft looking, brown plain ahead. For the life of you, you can’t tell what it is, but your flight path is taking you right toward it, your small motions in the air not even causing you to vary course by a nanometer. Barreling right at it, you close your eyes at the very last moment, hoping it was as gooey as it appeared, and finding that it was, though as you splatted into it, your whole body getting buried in the much, you really wish it hadn’t been.

Literally swimming through the stuff, which was just thick enough to allow you to make your way to the top and stay there without effort, you break the surface, and start screaming at her not to eat you. Not that she can hear you from so far away, and at such a small size. Heck, she’s not even looking down at the peanut butter covered piece of bread, as she covers another slice with a bit of jelly, a snack offered to her by the bar owner, since her band mates had eaten all the meat and cheese she’d had on hand.

Still screaming, you try to make your way through the gooey stuff, moving barely three steps on the surface of it, before getting dragged down thanks to the lack of consistency in the stuff. Parts of it, while thick enough to take you weight, were not constant, and there were other parts that were literally like swamp water, gooey, and tasty, though you tried to ignore that, and hard to move through as you had to swim toward what you believed to be the edge of the bread.

Before the little dot that was you had moved perceptibly to the guitarist, your sky was again darkened, but this time the shadow didn’t miss, as she pressed the jelly covered slice down on top of you, sealing you in a little air bubble, as the world began to move violently around, pulling you first down as the sandwich was lifted, and then back, as she moved it forward, her mouth opening wide to take in a corner of her snack, as her teeth gleamed with saliva.

The sound of those mountainous choppers tearing through the bread is horrible, all the more so because after a moment, light enters your dark prison, and for a moment you actually see your reflection in the side of her tooth as she pulls back. She had literally just missed you. Heck, if you had been normal sized you probably couldn’t have even seen the distance between her tooth and you as she pulled back, her eyes closed as she started to chew, mmming at the flavor on her tongue as her jaw moves.

Not bothering to shout now, you struggle instead, trying to tear your way free of the goo that holds you fast. At your size, this is a task that is impossible, and so you are merely given a good view of your fate as she chews up her first bite, pulverizing it with her teeth, and then swallows, her neck moving in a rippling motion around the load, before it vanishes into her chest, where you can only imagine the greeting it is receiving from her stomach.

And then it’s your turn. Her eyes, those huge dark spheres, seem to stare right at you as she licks a few pieces of peanut butter from her lips, and then opens again, revealing the remains of her first bite to you as the soggy mess between her teeth and on her tongue, her saliva running everywhere, trying to moisten the stuff and drag it back toward the black hole of her throat. You scream to yourself as your are moved forward, toward that cavern of soft flesh, and then are stuffed inside.

As bad as the sound of her first bite had been, the second was worse, as you could literally hear her teeth scrapping against the bread as it severed it, and then her mmm was deafening around you, almost making your ears bleed as she enjoys you for a snack. No, you aren’t even that, just a seasoning, a single bit that can’t be tasted or felt. You are nothing to her, as she starts to chew, the world dropping suddenly, and your body getting splashed with some liquid, before you are shot up, and literally start to drown.

Saliva is everywhere, the world around you full of it, and pools of it collecting anywhere the food sits. You are on the very back of her tongue, and so the stuff forms a deep lake around you, her chewing forcing you under its depths every time her teeth come together, and you are drawn closer to her molars. You realize than that you are dead. Soon, you will be nothing but a small stain between two of her teeth, to be washed away with a swallow.

Such an epiphany causes you to start crying, as you feel the world move around you again, and again, before it quite suddenly stops. For a moment, a single heartbeat, you let yourself believe that maybe she tasted you, or heard you, or maybe found your clothes and the ampoule, and then, you literally cry in thanks as her mouth opens up, the darkness around you lifting as she lets you view the world outside, letting in a cool breeze to blow over you, and relieve some of the oppressive heat of her insides.

Then its over, and every hope is dashed, as a lake of white stuff moves in front of you. She was getting a drink, milk by the looks of it, and as she tilted the glass, it crashed into you, forcing you back toward her throat. You couldn’t swim against the current, even if you had wanted too. Heck, it was surprising that you weren’t killed by the impact as you, and everything else in her mouth, was washed down her throat with a single gulp.

The trip down her neck is a blur, as the pressure around you forces all thought from your mind, and all the air from your lungs, in one swift blurb bubble. You are drowning again, this time in a mixture of liquids, and knowing where you are going, you hope to let it happen to you, but know it won’t, as your downward motion pauses for a heartbeat, literally, as the beating of her heart pounds in your ears, and then you are forced through a tight opening, and drop into free fall once more.

There is no time to consider life. No time to remember your experiences, or for that flash of revelation that people say you get when you die. Instead there is only the scent of her stomach, the juices mixed with her snack, as you plummet into the darkness, the noise of liquid moving about as the walls churn, your only clue as to how close you are to death, and then, you smack into the liquid, safe for a moment, before two chewed up pieces of bread come together around you. Soft when dry, they are hard as stone when wet, and with one sickening crunch, you are reduced to nothing between them, as the guitarist’s stomach churns its contents about.

Outside, she doesn’t even belch to signal your end, and merely smirks as she takes another bite from her sandwich. The show had gone well, and she expected some good times from this, and hoped that wherever you were, you were happy, though, in her heart, she wished you would stay with her, forever. As your remains were filtered into her, she got her wish, a single red blood cell bearing what remained of you through her body, and then sticking inside her heart, forever more.
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