Five days. She'd been "gone" for five days. Really, five and a half days. Annabelle tried her best not to let the turmoil show on her face. The tiny girl was spread out on the "floor" of her cage. Her back pressed against the eerily soft "carpet" comprised of her captors' socks. Surprisingly, Annabelle found the scent of the floor to be not nearly as strong than the "bed's". 

"Fuck," Annabelle sighed. She turned over onto her side, making sure that her back was to the camera. It had been an hour since Naomi had brought the cage into her room and the giantesses had left for their classes, but there was always the very real possibility of them watching her from their phones. The Shrinkee didn't want to give them the pleasure of seeing a distressed expression on her face.

Although Annabelle had a lot to be distressed over. Her victory in Leah's game had resulted in the extremely satisfied giantess providing her with a few answers. She had told her of Poppy's reign, which had lasted from Saturday morning until yesterday—Thursday—afternoon. Apparently, Poppy had made good on her threat to let the giantesses "do whatever they wanted" to her body. Annabelle had done her best to tune out the graphic details of Poppy's behavior, but between Leah's booming voice and the overall shocking nature of her actions, Annabelle discovered a lot of things that had her looking at her body in a horrific, new light. 

Annabelle had also found out that the giantesses had in fact decided to attend her funeral on Sunday. Like all things she did with the giantesses, she expected it to be horrible. There was nothing Annabelle wanted less than to attend her own funeral. The Shrinkee had no desire to see her family and friends in deep grief. Plus the giantesses would no doubt have her under strict confines when they brought her, leaving her with no room to even think about escaping.

Then of course was the Zoey of it all. She'd rather stay with the giantesses forever, than see Zoey in her current state—even if it was from behind the sturdy walls of the necklace.

Annabelle was considering all the possible ways she could avoid being dragged along to her funeral when she heard Naomi's bedroom door open. The Shrinkee froze. In less than a second she ran through all the possible reasons Naomi could have for returning to home so early.

Whatever the reason, Annabelle hoped she would let her out of the nauseating cage. Annabelle lifted herself to her feet and walked over to one of the cage's walls. But as Annabelle peered out of the cage, she was faced with an unknown mountain-sized person. 

Instead of the curves and soft features she had come to know, the giant was a bulky skyscraper of rough skin and dark, graying hair. 

Annabelle was in momentary shock as she watched the giant man frantically close the door behind him. The giant began opening up Naomi's dressers and perused through them. Annabelle could hear his breathing from her spot on the desk. 

The Shrinkee instinctively backed up. The sheer urgency of his gigantic movements filled Annabelle with a primal fear. The giant started mumbling something to himself. Annabelle couldn't make out what he was saying. At first she thought it was just because the giant was too frantic to speak out clearly, but on closer listen, Annabelle realized he was speaking another language. It sounded familiar in her head, but not in her ears, as if she hadn't heard it in person, but knew it from TV or movies.

Annabelle watched the giant open Naomi's closet. As he bent down, Naomi noticed he wasn't swearing any shoes. He didn't look homeless, his hair was in a neat ponytail and his pants looked new. Realization began to creep over Annabelle. She peered closer at his white shirt. The design was definitely familiar. 

"Fucking fuck," she breathed, finally understanding who she was looking at: Chef Dufort. But knowing who he was didn't help her understand why he was searching through Naomi's things.

Annabelle took a step forward. She tentatively placed a hand on one of the cage's wired walls. "H-Hey," she tried to call out, but her voice was small—even for a Shrinkee. She took a deep breath. A part of Annabelle knew that she would never be unafraid when faced with a giant or giantess, but if she was going to escape from this hell, she would have to be brave.

"Hey!" Annabelle shouted with all of the air in her lungs. The giant flinched and jumped away from Naomi's closet.

His massive form stood up and Annabelle had to crane her neck slightly to see his panicked face. She saw his wide brown eyes scan the room. It took all of her courage not to run to the other side of the wall when his huge eyes landed on her tiny form.

Dufort backed up against Naomi's dresser, almost knocking some of her belongings down. He stared at Annabelle in silent shock. 

Annabelle took another deep breath, "D-Dufort? Are you Dufort?" Annabelle called out.

The giant only continued to stare at her, stunned. Just as Annabelle was beginning to think he didn't speak English, the giant sputtered out a, "Y-You are tiny."

He had a thick French accent that made it difficult for Annabelle to understand, but the deep booming volume of his voice allowed her to decipher what he was saying.

"P-Please you have to help me," Annabelle pleaded. 

The giant slowly took a step towards Annabelle's cage. He started lowering himself to get a better look at Annabelle.

Fear pierced Annabelle as she glanced back at the camera. If she remembered correctly, the camera covered the entire cage floor, but if the giant got close enough, his face could be visible beyond the cage's walls. 

"N-No! Get back, get back!" Annabelle yelled. The giant jumped back and stumbled onto his butt. Annabelle winced. He was making a lot of noise, and she didn't know if he was the only one in the house. She knew someone came in to clean the giantesses' messes. She didn't need Dufort caught before he could help her.

The Shrinkee frantically pointed towards Naomi's bed. "There, sit there!" 

The giant followed her orders, never taking his eyes from her tiny body. After he sat his massive form on the bed, Annabelle sat down onto the cage's floor. Theatrically, she yawned, stretching her arms out. She leaned her head against the cage's wall. She made sure her face couldn't be seen by the camera.

Annabelle didn't know if it was too little too late, but if the giantesses had in fact been not watching before this moment, they would just see her resting her head against the wired wall, with her back to the camera.

"You have to be careful, there is a camera in here," Annabelle explained.

The giant's eyes widened, "Camera?" He made a yelping-like sound and frantically scanned the room.

"No!" Annabelle said, "Only in here—in the cage. If you don't come closer it can't see you," she clarified.  

The giant man's face softened with relief. He looked over Annabelle, "You are tiny," he said again with his thick accent. 

Annabelle straightened up, "Please, I'm not supposed to be here. Please can you get me away from here?" She begged. 

The giant's face stiffened. His eyebrows furrowed, "The...young women they do this to you?"

Annabelle tried to stay still, "Yes! They made me tiny, and they won't let me leave. Please can you get me out of here?"

The giant frowned and pursed his lips together. He looked conflicted. Annabelle could feel the hope melting from her with every second Dufort hesitated. 

"Please, just drop me off at the police—" Annabelle stopped herself. She couldn't go to the police—not with Harper's mother leading the department. The Shrinkee realized she wouldn't be able to rely on any public services. 

"Just leave me outside," Annabelle pleaded, "You don't even have to call anyone."

Dufort shook his head, "I cannot do this," he said sadly.

Annabelle began to feel tears prickle her eyes. "Why not?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"My daughter, she is tiny like you," Dufort said. "They take her. They say I have to cook for young women if I want to get her back. To help tiny girl—this would be a risk."

Annabelle nearly jumped to her feet, before remembering she may being watched. The Shrinkee returned to her original position. 

"The giantesses—I mean the young women took her?" Annabelle asked. It was the first time she had heard anything like this before. 

"No, the men in the...how you say..." Dufort made a gesture as if he were straightening his tie.

"The men in suits? They took your daughter? Do you know where she is? Have you seen her since?" Annabelle asked.

Dufort shook his head, sadly. He gestured to Naomi's room, "I look in here for things about my daughter."

Annabelle glanced around the bedroom. A couple dozen thoughts raced around in her head. She had no idea if there was any information or evidence hidden around the room somewhere. From the almost two weeks she'd been with the giantesses, she hadn't seen anything. Of course, up until Dufort had mentioned it, she didn't know the giantesses' families were abducting Shrinkees. 

"You have seen my daughter? She tiny like you. They must keep her in cage like you?" Dufort asked desperately.

Annabelle grimaced, "No, I'm sorry. I haven't seen any other Shrinkees since—" Violent images from the first night's massacre flashed through Annabelle's mind. Her breath snagged and Dufort looked at her with an intense gaze. 

"You are okay?" He asked. His eyes shone with fatherly concern. 

Annabelle ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head, "No I'm not okay. I need to leave—I can't stay here. Please, just get me out of here," Annabelle begged with a shaky voice. 

Dufort stared at her with a deep sadness. The giant slumped forward and buried his face in his hands. His muffled voice croaked out, "I am sorry, but I cannot. My daughter."

Annabelle just stared at his massive slumped form. She didn't even have the tears to cry anymore. At this point, disappointment was like an old itchy blanket—wrapping her up with familiar discomfort. 

"Get out," Annabelle spat.

Dufort raised his head and peered down at the Shrinkee, confused. "What?" He asked.

"Get the fuck out of here," Annabelle hissed. "If you're not going to help me, then get the fuck out of my face."

The giant's face twisted with inner-turmoil. "I—" he started until he was interrupted by an unfamiliar buzzing sound.

Both Annabelle and Dufort froze. Annabelle quickly stood up and turned around towards the source of the sound. After scanning the room for a second Annabelle realized it was coming from the panel on the wall. Tentatively, Annabelle walked towards it and saw there was a blinking red light above the number one button. 

At that very moment it just hit the Shrinkee that the call button worked both ways. She had no idea why she had thought even for a second that only she would be able to contact the giantesses—as if they had ever given her any agency before.

Annabelle glanced at Dufort. There was no way that he knew specifically what was happening, but he probably figured out that it wasn't good. He was still frozen in fear. Annabelle hoped for his sake that he stayed that way. At the very least, Naomi was watching and she couldn't say anything to warn the chef.

Annabelle took a deep breath and pressed the number three button. A second of static puttered out before Naomi's cloying voice filled the cage.

"Hello my sweet widdle Poppy," she practically sang. 

Annabelle figured she was alone somewhere on campus, because she would never be caught alive using that baby voice.

"H-Hi Goddess Naomi," Annabelle answered, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. She couldn't look at Dufort without looking suspicious, but she hoped he wasn't panicking—at least aloud. 

Annabelle grabbed the wired walls with one hand, trying to be causal. She asked, "Did you need some—"

"What were you looking at?"

Annabelle's skin prickled and she felt a flash of panic. She didn't let it show on her face. She glanced up at the camera with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" Annabelle asked as causally as she could.

"You keep looking out your room's wall. Are you look at something, Poppy?" Her voice was still cloying, but Annabelle could never let her guard down around the giantesses.

Annabelle leaned her back into the wired walls. An idea formed into her head. "It's just...nevermind," she sighed.

"What Poppy? You know you can tell me anything," Naomi cooed.

"Well, there's not a lot to do in here, so I was just looking around. But there's not much sunlight in here, so I was wondering if next time you could leave my cag—I mean room downst—" 

"Absolutely-fucking not," Naomi said with a harshness that caused the Shrinkee to flinch.

She heard the giantess sigh, "Sorry Poppy, but no. We have people cleaning and cooking for us on the main floor. They know they're not allowed in our rooms, so you'll have to stay there."

Annabelle paused, choosing her next words carefully, "Do they know that I'm here?"

Naomi took a similar pause before vaguely saying, "They know what they need to know. More than anything, I just don't want their fucking disgusting, filthy eyes on my adorable widdle Poppy," Naomi said, falling back into the baby voice with her last few words.

Annabelle wondered how Dufort was reacting to hearing himself described in such a cruel way by the giantess. 

Naomi continued, "But I guess I could contact Shrink-Life to see if they could send me some Shrinkee coloring books or something."

Annabelle wanted to wrap this up quickly, "Thank you Goddess. I'm feeling kind of sleep—"

"I do have something you could do right now," Naomi interrupted. Her voice had a playful tint that made Annabelle nervous. 

"Unbutton your shirt, Poppy," Naomi ordered in a lowered tone. 

Annabelle's heart sank. She normally hated—but still tolerated—it when the giantesses forced her to perform for them, but stripping in front of the giant chef was unappealing to say the least. She prayed that he wasn't watching.

She just wanted to get this over. The Shrinkee turned towards the camera and unbuttoned her skin-tight pink shirt. She was embarrassed to find her fingers trembling as she did so. She unbuttoned each button until her shirt was completely open. Her nipples pressed against the fabric. She felt a flood of shame as she noticed they were perked up. Once again, her Shrinkee body had betrayed her. 

"Take your skirt off now, Poppy," Naomi commanded giddily. 

Annabelle obeyed, slipping from her miniskirt. The cool air breezed across her bare thighs and legs. Annabelle screamed a song loudly in her head. If she focused on the music in her head, maybe she could get through this without breaking down.

"Oh aren't you just so perfect, Poppy?" Naomi practically moaned. "Take off your shirt and show me those perfect widdle tits."

Annabelle's face flushed. She could never sing anything loudly enough to tune out her shame. There was no way Dufort wasn't listening. 

Annabelle silently removed her unbuttoned shirt from her shoulders, exposing her bare chest. 

"Ooo, I can see your widdle nipples from here, Poppy. Someone's excited to show off for their Goddess," Naomi said. Annabelle could hear her smirk through the speaker. 

"You must be cold," Naomi continued, "Why don't you rub your warm hands on your chest?" The giantess' giggle crackled through the speakers.

Annabelle, still singing the song in her head, slowly lifted her hands to her breasts. Despite with Naomi said, her hands were cold and shaking—though she wasn't sure if the shaking was from the temperature. 

The Shrinkee caressed her hands across her chest. She tried her best to ignore the tingling feelings it was giving her. 

"Does it feel good, widdle Poppy?" Naomi asked.

Annabelle couldn't even open her mouth to say the words. It was as if her brain was protecting the small sliver of dignity she still possessed. The Shrinkee could only nod. 

Naomi moaned, and the cage filled with her heavy breaths. Annabelle had been with the giantesses enough to know that she was touching herself. 

"Thank me—thank your Goddess for letting you feel so fucking good, Poppy," Naomi said through moans and gasps. 

Annabelle, still touching her breasts, obeyed. "Thank you Goddess, for letting me feel good," she squeaked. 

"Oh fuck me," Naomi moaned, obviously in the thralls of an orgasm. After a few seconds of heavy panting, Naomi's breathy voice returned to the speaker. 

"Oh Poppy, just wait until I get home. I'm going to fuck your adorable widdle brains out," Naomi chuckled, sending a chill down Annabelle's spine. 

Even if Annabelle had the ability to respond to that, Naomi didn't give her the chance. 

"Shit," the giantess hissed through the speaker, "I'm late for class. I'll see you later, Poppy. I wuv you so much, bye!" Naomi chirped before ending the call.

Annabelle couldn't bring herself to look at Dufort. With tears in her eyes, she focused on redressing herself. Annabelle pulled her miniskirt over her thighs. She picked up her shirt and rebuttoned it. These were simple actions that once felt normal. Now she was in a bad horror movie that never ended. When she was finished getting dressed, the Shrinkee took a deep breath and attempted to subdue her tears. 

Annabelle lifted her head. Dufort's sorrowful eyes met hers. Fury sparked inside Annabelle when she noticed the pity in his expression. Annabelle stormed towards him, still ensuring that she was facing away from the camera. 

Annabelle seethed, "No, you don't get to fucking look at me like that—not when you're basically damning me to stay here. I already told you, get the fuck out. I'll figure out a way out of here myself, so fucking leav—"

"I help you get out," Dufort said suddenly.

Annabelle's tirade was instantly squashed. "A-Are you serious?" 

Dufort nodded, "But not yet. First I need my daughter, then I help you get out. You help find my daughter, I help you get out."

Annabelle ran her hands through her hair. She had no clue where his daughter could be—or if she was still even alive. As far as she knew, she was the only Type 0 Shrinkee around, and the giantesses and their families didn't seem like the types to keep regular Shrinkees alive for long. 

"What is your daughter's name?" Annabelle asked.

"Camilla Dufort," he answered with a wistful smile following his words. "She has the dark hair like me, and blue eyes like her Mama." He pointed to his right hand, "Also she has the mark when she was born. It is like a star."

Annabelle's stomach twinged with envy as she saw the obvious love he had for his daughter. Her own father didn't have the luxury of hope. Her father thought she was dead.

She pushed her negative thoughts and focused on the task ahead of her. She didn't have time for a mental spiral. For the first time there was an opportunity to learn about the giantesses' background and the entire Shrinkee massacre conspiracy. 

"When did the men in suits take her?" Annabelle asked.

Dufort straightened up slightly, "In France, Camilla is model. She good, but not so famous. When she is seventeen she become tiny—like you. We don't know why this happens, but she become tiny."

Annabelle frowned. It was uncommon, but some people with HDD randomly shrink without the assistance of a stimulation device. It was why people with HDD always had the mantra of "live each day like a giant."

Dufort continued, "When she shrinks she become popular on the...how you say," he made a gesture like he was typing on a phone.

"Online? On Social media?" Annabelle suggested.

Dufort nodded, "When she gets a million people on this...social media, she get a message from Shrink-Life."

Annabelle's stomach dropped. She could see where this was going.

"They offer her much money and tell her to come to this country to model with them," Dufort explained. "I say no, but she twenty when they ask, so she go anyway."

Dufort hesitated before taking a deep breath, as if this next part was physically painful to say, "When she first come here, she call every day. Then every week. Soon she only call on... how you say...special days?"

"Holidays?"

Dufort nodded sadly, "Five years pass like this. This summer, she do not call at all. Never. I call Shrink-Life and they hang up. I call police and they say nothing I can do—she is adult and she is not missing because they see her Shrink-Life model photos in the magazines. So I write on the social media and I say my daughter is missing. The next day, men in suits come to my home and bring me to this country. I ask for my daughter and they say she belong to the company now."

Tears filled Dufort's eyes, "They say her contract is done in five years, but if I want her fast, I cook for young women while they in school. They know I am successful chef in France. They say we help each other."

Annabelle let herself absorb all of the information Dufort had thrown at her. From how powerful she knew the giantesses' families to be, she knew the story was entirely plausible. Especially, with the detail about the men in suits. She hadn't seen John and his squad since they had come to clean up the massacre, but Annabelle suspected that he and his cronies had other, equally cruel jobs assigned to them. Dufort's story was just a reminder of how vicious her adversaries were. 

"I'm so sorry," Annabelle said as Dufort wiped away an escaped tear. Annabelle considered something, "When the men in suits took you, did you recognize anyone? Anyone you've seen on television or in the news?"

Dufort furrowed his eyes. After a moment he shook his head, "No, I only remember the men in the suits." 

Annabelle tried to hide her disappointment. There went her lead. She thought of something else.

"Other than the giantes—young women—who else comes to this house?" Annabelle asked.

Dufort thought for a moment. "Two women. They clean. Jane and Sara...I think these are their names. They do not talk to me. They are quiet. They clean and they leave," he explained.

Annabelle leaned forward against the wall's wires. "Are they here now?" She whispered as if they might hear her.

Dufort shook his head, "I cook, then they come and clean pots and pans. They do not come until I finish." He paused before adding, "We are safe to talk."

Annabelle nodded, "The young women, do you talk to them?"

Dufort rubbed his hand along his graying beard. Annabelle winced inwardly, the action reminded her of her own father.

"They tell me what they want to eat. They say if it is good," he said. He paused, then added, "The...blonde, yes?" He asked, touching his ponytail. 

Annabelle frowned, but nodded.

"Yes, the blonde is very happy. She talk a lot, but one time she say something and other young women get angry," he said.

"What was it?" Annabelle asked, intrigued. 

"She asks if any food make tiny people...what is this word?" He sighed frustrated. "She asks for a aphrodisiaque."

"An aphrodisiac?" Annabelle said disbelievingly. "Are you serious? What did you tell her?"

"The other young women tell her to be quiet and she say sorry. I say nothing," Dufort recalled.

Annabelle sighed and shook her head. She wasn't surprised to find out Harper was interested in drugging her, but it was still disturbing to think about.

"Before, I think aphrodisiaque is for my daughter. I think young women know where she could be. So I look in their rooms before Jane and Sara come here. I do not find anything—until today," he said, nodding at Annabelle's tiny form.

Annabelle ran her hands along the wall's wires. "Do you really not remember anyone other than the men in suits?" She asked again.

Dufort shook his head.

Annabelle leaned her head against the wall. After a second she looked up at the chef, "What about a paper trail?" She inquired.

Dufort just stared at her confused. Annabelle clarified, "Like a check, how do you get paid? Whose name is on the check?"

"I do not get money for work. I get my daughter," Dufort answered.

Annabelle was taken aback, "You don't get paid? How do you afford rent? Food?"

"Company pay for apartment and I eat leftover food for young women," Dufort explained.

Annabelle felt as though she should have known that the giantesses' families wouldn't be above slave labor, but it still surprised her. The situation became more fucked up the more she learned.

"Oh, I forget," Dufort said suddenly, "I sometimes see men in suit near house of young women. I think they watch over them."

Annabelle nodded. That made sense. Powerful families usually required protection for their children. It would however, make her escape that more difficult.

"I must go," Dufort said abruptly, standing up.

"W-Wait," Annabelle yelped, "I still have more questions!"

"I must call Jane and Sara to come or they know something wrong. I try to come back next week. You try to find my daughter," Dufort said. He did a quick scan and made sure nothing was out of place in the bedroom. After apparently deciding it was okay, he gave Annabelle one last somber nod.

"Stay strong," he said before walking through the doorway and closing it behind him. Annabelle watched, filled with all sorts of emotions as he walked out the door. She slowly sat on the cage's floor. She realized she was too tired to even sit up, so she laid face down. She didn't even care her face was technically buried in the giantesses' socks. The Shrinkee unleashed a long guttural groan. 

What the fuck had just happened?

She had finally been able to contact someone other than the giantesses. It could have gone better, but it also could've gone much worse. For now she had hope—actual tangible hope. Though, she had no clue on where to even begin looking for Dufort's daughter. There was a large part of Annabelle's mind that was almost positive Camilla was dead. For obvious reasons she prayed it wasn't true. What would Dufort even do if he found out his daughter was no longer alive? The agreement was for Annabelle to find his daughter—he didn't say anything about her being alive. Would the chef still honor his agreement?

Annabelle groaned again. Her life was getting more complicated by the day. Annabelle rolled over onto her back and stared at the wired ceiling and the actual ceiling miles above. The Shrinkee sighed.

She would get out of here. It was only a matter of time.

----

"I don't understand why she doesn't just fucking kill everyone now?" Naomi said from the leather recliner. 

The giantesses were all lounging around in the living room, watching a horror movie. From what Annabelle could gather when she looked up from painting Harper's finger nails, it was a poorly made zombie movie. 

"Because they're her friends and only one of them got bitten. Plus she isn't sure which one it was," Molly explained. 

She and Leah sat on the couch, with Leah laying down and resting her socked feet on the brunette's lap. A bowl of popcorn was balanced on her flat stomach.

Naomi scoffed, "If it were me, I'd kill them all just to be safe."

"That's because you're a psychopath," Molly retorted. The other giantesses laughed while Naomi rolled her eyes with a smirk. 

"Poppy, be careful," Harper said as Annabelle almost dropped the nail polish brush after dipping it back in the bottle. The blonde giantess lay on her stomach with her feet kicking in the air as though she were at a slumber party. The hand that Annabelle had already painted was being used to hold and scroll through her socials. 

"Oh, s-sorry, Goddess," Annabelle mumbled, holding onto the brush in a more sturdier position. Although it had been hours since Naomi had come back to the house and rushed into her bedroom, where she immediately started ravishing the Shrinkee, Annabelle was still slightly winded from the encounter.

Slipping into the baby voice, Harper smiled down at the Shrinkee, "You look totally cute today, Poppy."

After Naomi had finished with her, the Shrinkee's previous clothes were long past the point of being wearable. Annabelle had been slipped into a frilly yellow dress with a large matching bow attached onto the back of her head. It was one of those days when she felt more like a doll than a Shrinkee. Although, she supposed to the giantesses, there wasn't much of a difference between the two.

"Thank you, Goddess," Annabelle replied. She had perfected responding to compliments. She made sure to answer back in short simple statements. Although it was difficult, she also gave her voice a twinge of inflection, despite the lifelessness she felt inside. It wouldn't do her any favors to sound too monotone, but she couldn't bring herself to be anything resembling peppy.

"I'm surprised she's still standing, they way you were carrying on," Leah said to Naomi. "We could hear you while we were eating dinner, it was disgusting."

Naomi raised her eyebrow with a grin, "Look who's talking. Did you know John called yesterday? He said one of his men alerted him because they heard screaming coming from the house. That's how loud you were being."

Leah shrugged, "What can I say? Poppy and I have a special connection." She turned her head to Annabelle, "Isn't that right, Poppy?" She cooed.

Annabelle swallowed her disgust and responded, "Yes, Goddess." She maintained her focus on keeping the brush steady. 

"What did she say?" Leah asked, unable to hear the Shrinkee from the couch.

"She said 'I love Goddess Harper more'," Harper mimicked with a squeaky voice. Annabelle frowned. Is that what she sounded like to them?

Leah rolled her eyes and dropped some popcorn into her mouth. Harper suddenly let out a frustrated groan that surprised Annabelle to the point where she almost dropped the brush.

"Molly, like, why is your moth boyfriend DMing me?" Harper sighed irritably. 

"You have a moth boyfriend?" Naomi asked, looking at Molly. "I'm surprised you need one with Poppy around."

Leah nodded in agreement, "Compared to Poppy, there's no moth that has done even an eighth as well as job as her." Based on context, Annabelle had a good idea what the giantesses were talking about, and she decided she was not a fan of this conversation.

Molly leaned her head back and groaned, exasperated, "I do not have a moth boyfriend. I don't even know who you're talking about."

Harper squinted down at her phone, "Bennet Daudler?" 

Molly sighed, "Again, he is not my boyfriend. He's from the student government, remember? You met him when we went to the fundraising thing for the third library for the University?" Molly reminded them.

The other giantesses stared back at her blankly. Molly rolled her eyes, "The one where Naomi got drunk on champagne and made out with that moth singer from the band that was playing the event."

Naomi grinned, "Oh yeah." She turned to Harper, "What does he want?"

Harper sighed, ruffling Annabelle's hair with her man-made breeze as she did so, "Like, the same thing all moths want," she said rolling her eyes.

Annabelle looked over her work, and returned the brush back inside the nail polish bottle. Harper examined Annabelle's finished product. The giantess' face lit up, "This is so good, Poppy," she praised. "You're totally getting better at this," she cooed.

Harper suddenly opened her mouth wide, nearly giving Annabelle a heart attack. Thankfully, she only took a deep breath of air and blew on her nails, attempting to dry them quickly. The result for Annabelle was a face full of strong wind and spittle. 

"Goddess?" Annabelle asked over the blonde's wind. 

Harper stopped blowing and smiled down at the Shrinkee, "Yes, Poppy?" she inquired.

Annabelle brushed her hair with her fingers, attempting to fix the mess Harper's breath had made of it, "What is a moth?"

The Shrinkee figured she had a lot to find out from the giantesses if she wanted to find information on Camilla, she couldn't be coy with each question or they might catch on. So she decided to start with a direct and innocuous question.

Harper was visibly taken aback, but she recovered quickly.

"That's, like, an interesting question Poppy. How do I, like, describe it...a moth is a moth ya know," she said. 

Annabelle frowned, she knew Harper wasn't the most articulate, but Annabelle was just plain confused. 

Harper attempted another explanation, "Okay, do you, like, know how a moth—a real one—always goes to the light? Well moths in our lives are always going to us, like, we're the light—"

"What the hell are you rambling about?" Naomi asked, pausing the movie. Annabelle was relieved for Naomi's interference. 

"Poppy asked what moths are—not the actual bugs," Harper replied. 

"Huh," Molly said, grabbing a handful of popcorn, "I guess it's kind of difficult to put into words," Molly said.

Naomi sat up and answered bluntly, "A moth is an annoying ass person who tries to hang out around us for clout and sex."

"Clout? Why?" Annabelle suspected she knew what the answer was, but she needed the giantesses to talk more about their backgrounds.

It was Harper's turn to look at Annabelle with a confused expression.

"What did she say?" Naomi asked.

"Hold on," Harper said. The blonde held her palm out, and Annabelle tried her best to keep the dread from showing on her face. She stepped into Harper's vanilla scented hand and allowed herself to be lifted onto the glass coffee table.

Annabelle sharply inhaled as her feet touched the cold glass table. Harper placed her chin in her hand and rested her elbow onto the table. With her free hand she began to stroke Annabelle's hair.

"Poppy, I'm going to ask you a question, and I, like, need you to be honest with me," Harper said.

Both the weight of the giantess' finger and the weight of the situation were causing Annabelle's stomach to turn. Although they weren't saying anything, Annabelle knew the other giantesses were watching. Annabelle did her best to nod as Harper continued to pet her. 

"Did you, like, know us before you shrank?" Harper asked.

Annabelle struggled to keep her anger in check. There were a couple things about the specific situation that were pissing her off. First, was the giantesses' arrogance. Although they had never questioned her directly before, the giantesses had always assumed she knew of their fame or "clout". 

Then it was Harper's word choice, "before you shrank". As if it had just happened to Annabelle randomly.

But the Shrinkee couldn't convey all that fury, so instead she just shook her head. "I knew you," Annabelle said. "But not in the way I think you're talking about."

"Hold on, what did you just say, Poppy?" Leah asked, sitting up.

Naomi stood up from the armchair and made her way over to the coffee table. The table shook as the punk giantess sat across from Harper. 

"Poppy are you serious?" Naomi asked.

Annabelle bit her tongue and simply nodded. She wanted to just move forward with asking them about their backgrounds, but their shock was getting more than a little irritating. 

"So why did you come to the Shrinkee meeting then, if it wasn't to see us?" Molly asked.

Annabelle's heart was racing. From fear or anger, she didn't know. She just had to get past this conversation, but Molly's question was bringing out memories that she'd forced out of her brain since she'd shrunken. 

"I-I don't know," Annabelle lied. It was a bold lie to tell, as Harper had been there when she had made the decision to attend the meeting. The Shrinkee waited for Harper to contradict her, but to Annabelle's surprise, the blonde stayed silent. She only looked at Annabelle with an unreadable expression.

"You don't know?" Leah said with disbelief. 

Molly tsked, "Poppy, perfect pets don't lie to their owners."

Annabelle opened her mouth to defend herself when Harper suddenly came to her rescue. "If Poppy doesn't wanna say her reason for coming to the meeting, then, like, she doesn't have to."

Annabelle became uncomfortable as she instantly felt the mood in the room shift. 

Naomi leaned forward against the table, "Fuck, you know something, don't you, Harp?" Naomi accused. 

Harper retracted her hand away from Annabelle. She folded her arms, propping her chest out, which caused the Shrinkee to back away out of fear of getting hit by the gigantic melons.

"So what if I do? It's not a big deal," Harper shrugged.

Leah set the popcorn down on the couch, "Harper, you can't just keep secrets—not when it comes to Poppy," she chided. 

Harper looked at Leah with an incredulous expression, "Really? Like, you of all people are saying that?"

Leah crossed her legs and folded her arms, "Please enlighten me on what you're referring to."  

"Maybe the fact that you asked your Dad for Poppy's medical records," Harper retorted.

Annabelle's head snapped up. "W-What?" She sputtered. Of course the giantesses ignored her.

"Typical," Naomi scoffed. 

"Is that true, Leah?" Molly asked, looking hurt.

Leah looked surprised, "How did you even—"

"John told my Dad, Leah. Like, are you forgetting who he works for? Just because your family pays him for a couple of jobs, doesn't change the fact he's apart of my Dad's company," Harper rebuked. 

Annabelle was trying to pay attention to the information Harper was dropping, but she was still stunned by Leah obtaining her medical history. She didn't even want to begin to think of the reasons why she could want it. 

"I was going to gave you guys the records," Leah said defensively. 

"When, Leah?" Molly retorted, "You always do this. You get some kind of information and you either share it way after the fact, or not at all."

Leah laughed in disbelief, "How did we even get here? We were talking about how youwouldn't tell us why Poppy came here in the first place—which could very well be the key to getting her to imprint." 

Harper uncrossed her arms, "Look, I'm not, like, trying to say you're wrong for keeping Poppy's medical stuff for yourself. Just like Molly wasn't wrong for getting Poppy's application and admission's essay. Just like how Naomi wasn't wrong for sending Annabelle's hair to her family's labs. We all totally do things that we think will help Poppy imprint on us."

Annabelle felt weak. She sat down and hugged her knees to her chest. She rested her head on top of her knees. Annabelle wanted to sigh, but she couldn't even bring herself to go through the motions. She heard the giantesses continue around her, but she just let their voices boom around her. 

How had she not known? They had invaded all facets of her life, peering and prodding into her personal information. She had always scoffed at the giantesses' arrogance, but she was the one full of hubris. She wasn't even aware of things going on right in front of her. She thought she had been paying attention. How could she not? They were huge and everything they did was monumental to her. It was like they were operating on an entirely different level than the Shrinkee.

THAT'S BECAUSE THEY ARE.

"Shit," Annabelle hissed underneath her breath. Poppy's voice was the last thing she needed.

THEY'RE ON A DIFFERENT LEVEL THAN YOU. JUST ACCEPT YOUR ROLE. YOU ARE BEING RIDICULOUS. DOES A DOG TRY TO UNDERSTAND HIS OWNER'S MORTGAGE PAYMENTS? YOU ARE HERE TO PLEASE THEM. SUBMIT. SUBMIT TO YOUR GODDESSES. 

Annabelle covered her ears and buried her head in between her knees. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," Annabelle mumbled. 

WHY ARE YOU EVEN TRYING TO RESIST? THERE'S NO WHERE FOR YOU TO RUN. THAT CHEF IS DELUSIONAL, HIS DAUGHTER IS DEAD. THERE IS NO OUT, THERE IS NO ESCAPE. THERE IS ONLY YOUR GODDESSES. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBM—

"Poppy!" Molly's voice cut through Poppy's. 

Annabelle snapped her head up. The giantesses were visibly in a much better mood. 

"Did you fall asleep?" Harper cooed, petting Annabelle's head. 

Not waiting for her to respond, Molly explained, "Well, while you were taking a nap, we decided that in order to level the playing field a bit, we'll play a few rounds of Truth or Dare like we said we would last weekend."

Annabelle released a string of swears in her mind. This was exactly the opposite  of what she wanted. But with the giantesses staring down at her expectedly, she didn't have any other options. 

"C-Can I ask you guys questions too? Y-You don't have to do 'Dare'," she squeaked. Annabelle swallowed nervously. Poppy's bullshit had freaked her out and she was beginning to panic. It was also difficult to focus with the giantesses' eyes on her.

Leah smirked down at her from the couch. After their "game" yesterday, Leah had lost the temporary thinly-veiled bitterness she had when speaking with Annabelle. Still, that didn't mean she had stopped her "teasing".

"That depends entirely on how well you answer your own 'Truth' questions, Poppy," Leah replied.

Annabelle nodded. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't Freak out. 

"Okay, I'll start!" Harper chirped. Harper lowered her face closer to Annabelle. It took the Shrinkee all she had not to scurry away from the sudden movement, "Poppy, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth," Annabelle chose, to a chorus of 'boos' and eye rolls from the giantesses.

"Poppy, why were you playing hard to get for so long when we first met?" Harper asked with a pout.

Annabelle blinked, utterly confused, "Wha—I wasn't playing hard to get," Annabelle said defensively. 

Harper began scratching underneath Annabelle's chin, "Well I was, like totally flirting with you so much and you never did anything about it."

Annabelle was flustered. Over the past two weeks, the Shrinkee had thought back and analyzed every interaction she had with Harper. She had racked her brain, trying to understand how she had gotten into this situation. But every time she thought about their conversations, they just seemed innocuous and inconsequential—that is, except for the conversation they had on her birthday. 

"I didn't know," Annabelle insisted.

Harper stopped scratching. Her pouty lips narrowed into a frown, "Well, like, if you did know, would you have done something about it?"

Annabelle's heart dropped. The honest answer was no. Her friends hadn't been lying when they said Harper wasn't her type—and that was before she knew about her hobby of causally murdering Shrinkees. There was also the truth of Annabelle's actual crush. But bringing Oliver into this mess would be unnecessarily cruel, and the last thing Annabelle wanted to do was put a target on one of her best friend's back.

"I—" Annabelle started, but was interrupted by Naomi.

"Nope, sorry Harp, but you already asked your question," Naomi grinned. Harper rolled her eyes but backed off, much to Annabelle's relief.

"Um, can I ask a question now?" Annabelle asked.

"Maybe next round," Leah said flippantly, "Truth or Dare, Poppy?" 

Annabelle stifled a frustrated groan. "Truth," she answered again.

The giantesses groaned again. "Seriously, Poppy?" Naomi sighed. Annabelle balled her fists, but said nothing. What did they think she was going to do? There was no known universe in which she would voluntarily pick Dare.

"Fine," Leah relented. "When was the first time you saw me, and what was your impression of me?"

It took all Annabelle had not to roll her eyes. God, they were so narcissistic. At least she wouldn't have to lie. She was sure the giantess would appreciate her answer.

"I saw you at the meeting, and I thought you were intimidatingly pretty," Annabelle answered matter of fact. Just as she thought, Leah's face lit up.

Naomi rolled her eyes, "I'm sure that's true."

Leah scowled, "And why wouldn't it be?"

The punk-rock giantess scoffed, "You really think you're hot fuckin' shit—"

Molly interrupted their bickering. With a mouthful of popcorn she turned to Annabelle, "Wait Poppy, you said the first time you saw Leah was at the meeting?"

Annabelle nodded. She hated these diversions. The Shrinkee really just wanted to find out something—anything that might lead her to Camilla's whereabouts. 

Harper frowned, "That can't be right, Poppy."  The blonde leaned in closer and peered down at Annabelle, as if to see if she was lying.

"I-It is, that's when I first saw her," Annabelle insisted. 

Molly crossed her arms, "You never went to Orientation or Homecoming, Poppy?"

Annabelle furrowed her eyebrows, "I went to both of those things." The Shrinkee paused before asking, "Were you guys there or something?" 

A silence fell over the living room as the giantesses exchanged incredulous expressions. Annabelle grew more frustrated with every second. It's not like they were featured on the University's brochure: Our School Has Four Extremely Rich, Hot Girls.

Naomi broke the silence. She laughed dryly, "I was sure her loser friends were full of bullshit, but it looks like Poppy really didn't know us."

Annabelle was having an increasingly difficult time quelling her anger with every word the giantesses said.

"I guess there's a first time for everything," Molly chuckled.  

Leah's green eyes were locked onto Annabelle, "You definitely are a strange one, Poppy."

Before Annabelle could respond with something that would get her in trouble, she was snatched into the air by Harper's slender fingers. Annabelle's entire body was constricted as the blonde's hands completely wrapped around her tiny form. 

Her perky voice boomed in her ears. "Poppy this literally just makes me love you so much more," Harper squealed. Annabelle closed her eyes and grimaced when she saw Harper's plush, puckered lips headed straight for her.

The overwhelming scent of vanilla attacked Annabelle's nose as the blonde pressed her head against her lips. "Mwah!" Harper smacked her lips against the helpless Shrinkee.  

"This just means you really love us for us, Poppy! Not for any of the superficial stuff," she chirped. 

If Annabelle's arms hadn't been pinned to her sides she would've futilely tried to push back against Harper's enormous kisses. 

"Okay, enough Harp, you're gonna smother her to death," Naomi chuckled.

The gigantic lips taking up Annabelle's field of vision shifted into a pout. "Fine," she sighed, unleashing a gust of air directly onto Annabelle's face.

The Shrinkee took in a fresh breath of air as the blonde placed her back onto the table. She fell to her knees from exhaustion. Annabelle shuddered. Even kisses were feats to survive. 

"Okay Poppy, go ahead, ask away," Leah said, ignoring the Shrinkee's obvious fatigue. 

Annabelle knew she had to act fast or else they would move on. Still on her knees, she looked up at the amused looking giantesses. 

"Have you ever kept someone—er a Shrinkee for as long as you've had me?" Annabelle asked. It was as vague of a question she could think of. 

The giantesses exchanged glances. Annabelle couldn't tell what they were thinking.

"Who are you asking that to, Poppy?" Molly asked. 

Annabelle frowned, "Um, all of you?" 

She felt another heavy weight atop her head. Harper tapped Annabelle's head, forcing the Shrinkee to tilt her neck downward. 

"That's not how the game works, Poppy," Harper chided. 

Naomi stretched her gigantic arms and shrugged, "It doesn't matter Harp, the answer is the same for all of us." The punk giantess turned to Annabelle with a grin, "Yes Poppy, we've kept Shrinkees for longer than we've had you."

"I don't think they really count," Leah said, tossing some popcorn into her giant maw. "Poppy is on an entirely different level than those things," she said with disgust. 

"Totally," Harper giggled.

Annabelle listened silently. Based on their answers, it was looking good for Dufort. The giantesses admitted they kept other Shrinkees alive. But judging by Leah's tone, they weren't valued and most likely treated less than amazingly. Annabelle shuddered to think what they could be keeping other Shrinkees alive for.

Despite how much she resented her forced position as their pet, Annabelle was beginning to understand that it could be a lot worse.

"Dare Poppy, you have to choose Dare now," Molly said giddily, pulling Annabelle out of her thoughts.

"W-What?" Annabelle sputtered. 

"You chose Truth twice already, so now you have to pick Dare," Harper grinned down at Annabelle.

Annabelle's heart began to race. These weren't the rules she was used to, but then again the giantesses obviously had no trouble making up their own rules.

Annabelle fiddled with her fingers, "U-Um, I'm actually pretty tired—"

The giantesses burst into laughter, and the Shrinkee's hopes were instantly dashed. 

Harper stroked Annabelle's hair, "Sorry Poppy," she said through giggles, "but you're like, totally, not getting out of this one."

Naomi leaned closer, casting a shadow over the tiny girl, "How about this Poppy, this can be the last round," she chuckled. 

The giantesses turned to each other, giggling. "What should we make her do?" Harper grinned.

"I mean there's not much she hasn't already done," Naomi laughed.

Annabelle took their momentary distraction as an opportunity to prepare herself mentally. 

"How about this," Leah's amused voice broke though. The other giantesses leaned in. Leah glanced at Annabelle before lowering her voice to a volume the Shrinkee couldn't hear. 

Annabelle sighed and began to walk around the table. She looked down below through the glass as she walked, just attempting to take her mind away from the nightmarish hell that was her life.

"But I have one too! Let me do it," Molly's indignant voice cut through Annabelle's pensive moment. Annabelle turned her attention back to the giantesses.  

Leah narrowed her eyes at Molly before giving a gruff, "No. It was my idea."

Just as the two giantesses looked like they were going to breakout into an argument, Harper made a suggestion. "Why don't you guys play rock, paper, scissors to see who will get to do it?"

Molly and Leah exchanged uncertain glances. After a moment they both relented, "Fine," Leah rolled her eyes. Molly simply shrugged.

Annabelle watched intensely as the giantesses got into position to play. She didn't have a clue as to what they were competing for, so she didn't know who to root for—or against. 

They both shouted, "Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot!" Their giant hands formed into their chosen shapes. But ultimately Molly's rock crushed Leah's scissors. 

Leah folded her arms and stewed silently, while Molly celebrated by dancing in her seat. Annabelle didn't appreciate the strong emotions the results of the game brought out from the giantesses. It meant the prize was worth a lot to them. 

"Are we going to start or not?" Naomi asked. She was absolutely giddy.

The other giantesses—except Leah who was pouting from the couch—sat around the coffee table.

"Okay Poppy, get ready for your Dare," Harper said through giggles.

Annabelle looked up at the massive giantesses. There was no way to possibly prepare for whatever was coming, if she didn't know what it was. Although, the giantesses didn't seem to care if she was prepared or not. They stared at her with an abundance of glee and lust. Annabelle was feeling more and more like prey with each second that went on.

Finally, Molly spoke, "Poppy, when I was eating popcorn earlier, I got a piece of kernel stuck in my teeth."

The giantesses broke out into giggles before Molly could even propose the Dare. Annabelle's heart sunk at the realization of what her Dare would be. 

Molly continued, "Poppy, I dare you to get the kernel from in between my teeth." 

Instinctively, Annabelle took a step back. 

Warm flesh pressed against her back as Harper pushed Annabelle forward with her gigantic hand. "Ah, ah, Poppy, be a good widdle girl and finish the Dare," the blonde ordered.

Molly lowered her massive form and placed her chin onto the glass table. Naomi leaned closer and peered down at Annabelle with pure delight in her eyes.

"Come on Poppy, you have to be a good widdle pet and do what you're told," Naomi chirped.

Annabelle stood in front of Molly's enormous face. She watched, transfixed as the ginormous co-ed extended her a great maw open, unleashing a wave of hot breath over Annabelle's tiny body. The smell of popcorn and Dufort's latest creation overwhelmed Annabelle's nose. Tendril-like strands of saliva stretched from the roof of her mouth to the bottom. Teeth bordered the entrance like sharp white stones. Annabelle's skin began to form little droplets of moisture just from her proximity to the humidity of Molly's mouth.

Annabelle shook her head, "I-I can't, I'm sorry, I can't," she whimpered. 

Leah, who had since moved closer, when Molly opened her mouth, furrowed her brow, "What is it about mouths with you, Poppy?" 

Annabelle didn't dignify that with a response. Non-Shrinkees would never know the primal fear that emerged when faced with something that could swallow you whole.

Naomi tapped Annabelle's head, "Poppy, if you don't do this, then maybe we'll find someone who will. We are going to your funeral on Sunday. I'm sure there will be plenty of your Shrinkee relatives to choose from—"

"—Like your smoking-hot Daddy, Poppy," Harper finished, beaming down at her.

Annabelle could only let out a whimper that seemed to spur the giantesses on even more.

"Come on Poppy," Leah urged, "You said you would be the perfect pet. Should we bring in someone else so they can teach you?"

Molly tried to say something along similar lines with her open mouth, but ended up creating a puddle of drool. 

Annabelle knew she had to do it, but her body wasn't moving. Something in her wouldn't allow her to voluntarily step into a cavernous hole that could consume her.

I CAN DO IT. GIVE YOURSELF OVER TO ME. LET ME WORSHIP THE GODDESSES LIKE THEY DESERVE.

"Shut up," Annabelle muttered underneath her breath. 

"Poppy, if you don't—" Harper started.

"Okay," Annabelle snapped. "I'll do it!" Before the giantesses could punish her for speaking out of turn, Annabelle ran towards Molly's mouth. As she ran, she became distracted by the giantess' thick pink tongue. It was twitching out of anticipation. It was like a beast just ready to pounce.

While she was staring at the pink creature, Annabelle slipped on the ever growing puddle of Molly's drool.

She tumbled forward, releasing a yelp as she fell. She landed face first on the soft pink cushion of the giantess' lower lip, but in an attempt to catch herself, Annabelle cut her hand on one of Molly's teeth.

She checked her hand, ignoring the chorus of laughter from the giantesses above her. There was a deep cut across her hand and she was bleeding, but there was so much adrenaline in her body, she couldn't feel a thing. 

Annabelle returned to the mission at hand. The Shrinkee stood up and peered into the dark, dank maw. The mouth's moisture stuck to her skin like a thick, damp blanket. Annabelle kneeled on top of Molly's lips and searched for the kernel. The giantess, of course, hadn't given her a clue as to where it could be, so Annabelle began searching tooth by tooth. 

Although, as she glided her non-bleeding hand across each tooth, her entire world shook as Molly giggled from her touch. Annabelle was also having a difficult time paying attention due to her focus being placed onto every movement Molly's tongue made. After the incident with the cereal, Annabelle didn't trust the pink beast, and found herself glancing at it every other second. 

"Did you find it yet, Poppy?" Naomi called through giggles. Strangely, her voice echoed around Molly's mouth. Nonetheless, Annabelle grunted out a, "No." 

Apparently, the giantesses, including Molly, found that hilarious. They howled with laughter. Tears welled up in Annabelle's eyes, as she tried to steady herself through Molly's laughter.

"Assholes," she sniffed. She just had to find the kernel. The faster she found the kernel, the faster she could leave the gigantic maw. Then she could sleep and continue her plan to find where Camilla was being held. And then possibly, she could leave this hell behind her.

The Shrinkee's hand grazed over something hard, on the left side of Molly's mouth, near her canines. Annabelle quickly grabbed the obstruction. It was lodged tightly between the two teeth. Just as she began to pull, Molly's tongue leapt into action, striking her directly in the face. Saliva coated her head and crept into her mouth. Annabelle recovered quickly. She closed her eyes and held fast onto the kernel. 

Annabelle's terror sky-rocketed, with no way to tell when the tongue would next attack. She pulled the kernel again. It moved up the crevice slightly. The tongue tried again, slamming against her face, then returning to sweep across her entire head. Annabelle's entire head was slathered with Molly's saliva. Still, Annabelle held onto the kernel, pulling and pulling.

Suddenly, it came loose. However, before Annabelle could do anything but feel two seconds of relief, a heavy pressure encased her waist. Desperate, the Shrinkee opened her eyes only to find darkness. Molly had closed her lips around Annabelle's waist. The Shrinkee wiggled and squirmed, but the giantess' lips locked her into place.

Tears ran down Annabelle's cheeks, as Molly began to hum. The ominous sound boomed all around her.

"Please no," Annabelle whimpered to no one in particular. She was trapped, completely at the mercy of the chubby giantess' whim. 

She felt the slimy surface of the gigantic tongue, slowly brush over her face. This time it didn't bother retreating. It crept over her face and swept down her neck. Its bumpy taste buds pressed against Annabelle's skin. It continued to lower itself, right down to the Shrinkee's chest. Annabelle could feel the very instant the tongue recognized what it was licking. 

The pink thing erupted with energy. It managed to squirm its way inside her dress. It wildly lapped at her chest stroking every inch of her skin with its wet, sopping tongue. Despite the horrific nature of the situation, Annabelle's nipples perked up as Molly's tongue licked her up like a puppy. The giantess moaned, vibrating the Shrinkee's entire body. Between the vibrations of Molly's reverberating moans and her unrelenting tongue, too her deep mortification, Annabelle felt arousal bubbling up inside of her. 

She fought against it, trying her best to ignore the sensations. But without warning, she felt the bottom half of her dress be hiked up from outside Molly's mouth. Then her panties were removed by what Annabelle could feel were giant fingers. Annabelle screamed and tried to kick the perpetrator away, but she only felt her feet pass through empty air. The finger returned, this time targeting her behind. Annabelle could feel each ridge of the slender finger pressing and rubbing against her ass.

Annabelle kicked again, actually making contact this time. She felt a sharp, jolting pain. It felt like her ass had been whipped. It came again. Her ass prickled with fiery pain. Annabelle screamed, allowing Molly's tongue to smother against her face and enter the entirety of her mouth. It had no particular taste, but the slimy texture almost made her vomit. The Shrinkee panicked. The giantess was blocking off her airways. 

If that wasn't enough, the finger returned. It once again caressed Annabelle's ass, but it then slowly lowered itself to her pussy. Annabelle's mouth, still obstructed by the giant tongue tried to let out a scream, but only a muffled grunt exited. Finally the tongue retreated back to her chest. 

Annabelle spit out what felt like a gallon of saliva and gathered all the dank, hollow air she could into her lungs. It was difficult to concentrate on breathing when she was being attacked on both ends. Molly was still lapping at her breasts. Annabelle could feel every small bump on Molly's massive tongue against her nipples. Then there was the gigantic finger which rubbed and played with her pussy like a toy.

It was madness. Madness that Annabelle couldn't fight against. The Shrinkee moaned. The giant finger tapped against her pussy, driving Annabelle wild. Not to be bested, the tongue targeted Annabelle's nipples, rubbing them and pressing against them with vigor. 

Annabelle's hips began to move on their own. They bucked wildly and she felt the gigantic finger change tactics. It began rubbing against her slit, rapidly moving across her gushing pussy. Annabelle could feel her pleasure rising with each second. She moaned as the finger went faster and faster until she came—hard.

Her legs locked and her entire body tensed. Electricity surged through her. Molly eased up on licking her chest, and instead began to slowly stroke her face with the tip of her tongue. When she finally started to come down, Molly's maw opened. Roaring laughter boomed around outside of the mouth. Tears continued to fall from Annabelle's eyes. Annabelle wasted not time in flinging her weak body out of the mouth. She landed in a lake of drool that surrounded Molly's mouth. The Shrinkee was sure some of her own juices were mixed in with the liquid. Annabelle coughed up a mouthful of saliva.

Still holding the kernel, Annabelle crawled away from Molly's mouth as far as her exhausted body would let her. Though it was a difficult to accomplish, she was drenched in Molly's saliva. Her bow had fallen off in the assault and her saliva coated hair obscured her vison. Annabelle shuddered, thinking of the yellow bow that was probably deep inside of Molly's stomach.

Annabelle fell onto her stomach with a wet plop. She turned her head and saw the giantesses still laughing. Molly was struggling to wipe her chin though her laughing fit.

"Poppy, you did so good," Harper, said trying to catch her breath. She was sucking on her pointer finger. "And like always, you  literally taste like sugar," she laughed.

Annabelle closed her eyes and let the tears fall. She at least knew who had forced an orgasm from her. 

"You guys, her tiny boobs were so cute," Molly squealed. "I swear I could feel her nipples get hard."

Annabelle rose to her knees and started to crawl. She didn't know where she was going, but she just couldn't be around them anymore. Anger rose in her with every inch she crawled. Anger at the giantesses for being what they were. Anger at Dufort for not just taking her this morning. Anger at herself for being so fucking weak. 

As if to prove her point, Leah's massive fingers grabbed her legs between two digits and pulled her back over to them. 

"Where do you think you're going, Poppy?" Leah chuckled.

Gathering energy from her fury, Annabelle kicked at Leah's fingers, "Don't touchme," she seethed, tears still flowing from her eyes.

"Uh oh, I think she's having a tantrum," Naomi cooed. "Poppy, don't you know that perfect pets don't have tantrums?"

Annabelle having no articulate way to respond to that, cradled her head and released a guttural sound that was somewhere between a groan of frustration and an aggravated scream. The giantesses exchanged amused glances

"Like, I don't know why you're even upset Poppy. You won the Dare, you get to ask us the final question," Harper chirped.

Annabelle paused and let all of her emotions wash over her. She sat on her knees and stared at the stupid frilly yellow dress that was covered in a co-ed's slobber. She looked at her hand—at the cut that was no longer there. 

She looked up at them—the four co-eds who had ruined her life—ruined any possible future of a normal existence. Even if she did make it out of here, she knew these two weeks had changed her forever. 

"What do you feel?" She asked.

Their faces twisted with confusion. "What Poppy?" Molly asked.

Annabelle clarified through tears, "At the vigil, when you spoke to people who were grieving—knowing that you were responsible—knowing you were the reason they were feeling this way—what was going through your heads? What were you feeling?" Annabelle took a deep breath before adding, "And are you going to feel the same way at my funeral?" 

The giantesses froze, obviously not expecting such a question from the Shrinkee. For what it was worth, Annabelle noticed they actually looked to be thinking the question over. 

Molly started off, slowly, "Poppy," she began, "If you're asking if we felt—or feel—or will feel guilty, then sorry to say it but the answer is no."

Annabelle lowered her gaze to her lap. Her vision filled with tears. She knew who they were—what kind of monsters they were, but it still hurt to hear.

"Honestly we're kind of like super heroes," Harper added, "Like we get rid of the Shrinkees, no one finds out, and then we go back to our normal lives."

Naomi nodded, "It's a little annoying to watch people cry over Shrinkees, but I won't lie, it gives me a bit of a rush too."

Annabelle clenched her fists. She fought back sobs. "You all are monsters," she said through gritted teeth.

Leah crossed her arms, "Poppy your problem is you keep thinking of Shrinkees as people—when really they're bugs. At the vigil I didn't see parents crying for their poor innocent dead children, I saw irresponsible roach breeders wallowing about an out of control infestation that was taken care of. Those people are just as much to blame for the infestation as the actual Shrinkees. So to answer your question, I feel fantastic."

Annabelle snapped her head up, she glowered at the green-eyed giantess, "And if you gave birth to a Shrinkee?" She challenged.

"I'd snuff it out before it took its first breath," Leah answered without skipping a beat. 

Both Annabelle and Leah maintained a silent steely gaze. She could sense the other giantesses watching them intensely. 

Annabelle spat, "I don't know who lied to you for you to believe what you do, but it doesn't give you the right to just decide that 6% of the population should die, just because of how they happened to be born."

Leah shrugged, unbothered, "Agree to disagree, Poppy."

Annabelle shot up to her feet, "You can't say that when you're out here killing us."

Molly sighed, "Poppy I don't know why you keep grouping yourself with those things. You aren't like them at all."

"Why?" Annabelle snapped, "Because a fraction of my DNA is different? They still dream, and plan, and love. And no matter what you people tell yourselves, every time you eat or crush a Shrinkee—you're taking away a life."

Harper rested her chin in her palms and placed her elbow on the coffee table. "Poppy, I'm sorry, but you're like, wrong. It makes me sad to see you so sad, so try and imprint, okay? That way you can be happy."

Annabelle was seething, "I'll be happy when you all fuck off and die—"

Suddenly she was in the air. The world turned upside down as she was dangled by her foot. The Shrinkee screamed in terror. 

"Okay, game's over," Naomi declared as she dangled Annabelle between her two fingers. "Harp, I think Poppy's cranky and needs a time-out."

Annabelle watched an upside down version of Harper nod. Her gigantic hand approached her. Annabelle screamed and futilely tried to fend it off. Harper grabbed her tiny body and Annabelle was engulfed in darkness.

"Put me down! Put me down!" Annabelle sobbed. 

Light, once again filled her vision as Harper's massive disappointed face loomed over her while she squirmed in her hand. 

Harper easily ripped Annabelle's dress from her body, inciting another scream from the Shrinkee. 

"Poppy, you need to literally calm down. I'm going to put you in time-out now. When you're done I want you to apologize to us and remember what it means to be a perfect pet. I totally don't want to eat your dad in front of you, but I will if you keep acting like this. Now think about what you've done."

Harper lowered the tiny girl to her cleavage. Annabelle screamed as she neared Harper's expansive chest. 

With fingernails Annabelle had just painted, Harper pushed Annabelle deep into her cleavage. Massive, squishy flesh engulfed Annabelle completely. Harper's heartbeat pounded around the Shrinkee.

The giantesses muffled voice vibrated Annabelle, "Poppy, I'd get some sleep if I were you. We have a totally busy weekend in front of us."

Surrounded by boob flesh and the scent of vanilla and sweat, Annabelle could do nothing but feel sorry for herself. 

Outside her squishy cage she heard the giantesses unpause the zombie movie. The last thing she heard before allowing exhaustion to take her was Naomi's voice.

"I still think she should just kill them all."