Twin Sizes by TerryLarka

I wouldn’t change places

With anyone tonight

We’ll carve pumpkin faces

And watch the witches' flight

Every human heart will shudder

Every soul will shake with fear

Tonight, the creepiest

Tonight, the scariest

Tonight, the most wonderful night

Of, oh, the year

Anything can happen on Galaween

Your dog could turn into a cat

There may be a toad in your bass guitar

Or your sister could turn into a bat

Christmastime brings the snow

Summertime brings the sun

But on Galaween your blood begins to run

Something spooky’s going down on

Anything can happen on Galaween

            A tweaked rendition of Tim Curry's musical number from The Worst Witch crackled over loudspeakers throughout campus. Long since graduated members of the music department created it decades ago for Winston State's annual autumn event, and it was simply tradition to include it on every year's playlist between “Thriller” and the “Monster Mash.” 

            Galaween kicked off the afternoon of the 31st without a hitch. Orange and green holiday lights flickered on every wall and lamppost. Tents and awnings blanketed every available courtyard of the inner-city campus. Inside each building, spooky decorations filled the halls, ghosts and ghouls of varying sizes hanging from the ceilings and popping up through the floors.

            Set up during the morning and the night before, Galaween was an all-day event lasting from afternoon late into the witching hour. Classes were always canceled the day of and after to promote student attendance, and the entire event was open to the general public for free as a courtesy to the community, though some individual exhibits and vendors charged for their specific services. And of course, all exhibits and events were either accessible to both sizes or had a parallel event running alongside it to accommodate the other. 

            While the sun hung high in the sky, activities were geared towards younger attendees and families with student groups and faculty members hosting Trick or Treats, face paintings, slightly less scary clowns, and festive shows. But once the sky grew dark, the demons came out to play.

            Most students not responsible for organizing the event arrived in the evening when exhibits were geared more towards them. The Succubus Cafe was always a popular spot. A simple pop-up shop in which women dressed as succubi served coffee and pastries to seated guests. Next door was the Incubus Cafe, the same concept but with men wearing the skimpy outfits. Both shops had big, tiny, and mixed sections which were all conveniently in view of one another, so guests of all sizes could ogle, er, appreciate both the dolls’ and dames’, or dwarves’ and dudes’, costumes. Each year, the two cafes competed to see who raked in more profits than the other, a close contest every year. While the succubi were consistently popular among giant men, the incubi found ardent support among tiny women who arrived in large enough drones to offset the reduced price of their food.

            Then there was the pinnacle event of the night, The Phantom of the Ballroom Dance. Whether in formal wear or full costume, students and attendees took to the dance floor in pairs or groups and shuffled the night away. Like the rest of the college, the ballroom was set up to accommodate both sizes, even in the middle of a busy dance floor. Flat topped podiums jutted out from the floor throughout the room, currently screwed down but they could be moved out of the way depending on the nature of the event. The podiums had elevator shafts inside them that connected to tunnels built under the floor. Through these tunnels, tinies could traverse the space beneath the stomping dancers unimpeded and take the lifts to reach the tops of the podiums, assuming a larger partner didn't give them a lift up there instead. Since the podiums were scattered throughout the dance floor, tinies and bigs could dance side by side. This was especially useful for mixed size couples, though tinies would often step onto their larger partner's palms for the slow songs. Lifts also connected to the banquet sized concession stand. And around the walls lay brightly colored, tiny-designated flooring for entering and exiting the ballroom.

            As the dance hall opened its doors, another exhibit finished the last stages of prep. “Escape from the Towering Tyrant of Terror,” sponsored by Beanstalk Co. and organized by the freshmen members of the university's tiny committee, was an escape room experience guaranteed to thrill and delight any brave enough to test their mettle against the titular Tyrant. 

            The main attraction was set up in a standard, forty seat classroom with the desks and chairs removed for the evening. The walls were covered in black curtains stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Most of the room, save the edges along the walls, was occupied by a white stand-up platform housing several rectangular, shoe box size buildings painted to appear as if made of concrete. A big could easily tell they were actually Styrofoam with a hard painted coating, but a tiny's touch would be less discerning. There were two full-scale doors, one leading out into the hallway and another leading to a side room with the appropriate tiny-scale doors beside them. Blending into the walls, a black curtain stood in a corner of the room, obscuring whatever it was that stood behind it.

            “Everyone in their places?” Javi asked into a headset. “We're open for business in less than a minute.” He stood by the hallway doors waiting for the first group to enter. With the project being his idea, Javi naturally took position as leader, a decision no one had any trouble with. He was dressed up in a lab coat and fake glasses to give off the vibe of a nuclear physicist. Pierce suggested he wear an Einstein wig to complete the look, but Javi convinced himself that he was too hot in glasses to ruin his image with a mop of grey hair.

            “All units ready and accounted for, sir!” Sam stood at his side in a matching costume, donning the role of his assistant both for the escape room itself and in-universe within the game’s setting. 

            Out in the hallway, a couple Beanstalk Co. employees, identified by their black polo shirts bearing the logo of a sprout with two leaves growing from either side, sat at a table to hand out and accept tickets. To avoid long lines, the group decided tickets would work on a reservation system. Customers would grab their tickets and leave their contact info and enjoy the other Galaween exhibits in the meantime. Ten minutes before their turn was up, they'd receive a text notifying them to arrive at the escape room. Group sizes could vary as long as at least two bigs and two tinies were present. Participating in the escape room was free, but entry required signing a waiver permitting players to be touched, lifted, and held in confined spaces.

            “Alright. Front gate, let the first group in.” On Javi's command, the hallway doors opened; five tinies walked in accompanied by two bigs. Among the group of tinies, a tall heavy-set one stumbled in behind the group adorned in a black spandex suit decorated with a skeleton pattern on the front and back. Those uninformed simply saw a random fellow in a skeleton costume, but Javi and Sam knew him to be Pierce in a Vore Suit.

            Vore Suits had come a long way since their invention nearly twenty years ago. All the technical features, such as flashlight, camera, Bluetooth headset, and breathing apparatus, had been condensed to fit discreetly around the face, so much so as to go unnoticeable by anyone not looking for them. The patented, non-toxic, indigestible fabric was thinner than ever without sacrificing a lick of protective sealant. The suits came in three dozen different flavors ranging the gambit from sweet to savory and everything in between. Beanstalk even offered a service of creating a custom suit based on a particular tiny’s flavor profile for the mixed size couple seeking the most authentic vore experience whenever they wished from the comfort of their own home; such suits were costly affairs, but well worth the price for the most enthusiastic vore fanatics.

            Most Vore Suits were skintight given that they were primarily employed as sexual paraphernalia, but Beanstalk developed multiple models to serve a plethora of purposes. Endoscopy Suits, Vore Suits designed for medical professionals, emphasized durability for repeated uses and easy washability to be used with different patients. Portable Suits, the type Pierce had on, were made to fit over clothes. If a tiny needed to retreat to the comfort of their partner’s stomach, or a big was desperate for a light snack, and there was no changing room around, the Portable Suit allowed for quick and easy operation in any scenario. Just pop it on the tiny and pop them in your mouth.

            Pierce wore his suit over a t-shirt and shorts, beyond grateful he didn’t have to go commando underneath it. His black suit was a special Halloween variant, imbued with a mystery flavor like sodas and candies like to do around this time of year. The skeleton pattern was a custom add-on to make the suit appear as a Halloween costume, so Pierce could better blend in with the group of unsuspecting players.

            “Welcome new recruits!” Javi greeted in a flamboyant voice, stepping into the role of potentially mad scientist. “I am Citizen Professor Dr. Javier Delgado and this is my assistant, Dr. Sam Zeller.”

            “Hullo!” Sam tried matching Javi’s tone, although they were no better at doing voices than he was. “Pleasure’s mine to be havin’ yuh.”

            One of the bigs eyed Sam voraciously. The tiny’s adorable voice dripped honey into her ears; their mousy demeanor sent her heart aflutter. The big bit her bottom lip, fantasizing all the things she could do to them and all the ways they could worship her. She dreamed of forcing them into every open hole, of smothering them with every available extremity, and of her partner indulging as well. The big, whose arm was hooked with the woman standing at her side, leaned over to her partner and whispered in her ear.

            Justine recoiled and then leaned in to whisper back to her partner. “Naila, you’ve got to step telling me of every tiny you want to add to your collection. Not everyone you meet is going to be into that.”

            “But what if this one is? You’d be surprised how many tinies love the idea of being owned by me.” Justine kept glancing down, afraid of the little people below overhearing the delightfully unhinged Naila. “And you know firsthand how well I treat my toys.”

            Naila and Justine were both dolled up for the dance, having been lucky to nab tickets for the first run of the escape room at Lynn’s recommendation. Justine wore a gorgeous blue one-shoulder dress, an absolute jaw dropper. Naila's was far less classy. It covered the bare minimum of skin required to be considered a dress. A deep cut ran down the middle, stopping four inches below the navel. Naila had to shave down there that morning to keep from showing any pubes. The fabric draped over her breasts was so thin one could see the inner and outer curves and a bit of underboob all at once. There were pasties that provided more coverage. The back was no more modest than the front, the top of the woman's crack peeking out from under the fabric. Two slits ran up on either thigh, displaying as much leg as a bikini bottom. Whether or not she wore panties that night was a question better left unanswered.

            The truth was that most of the tinies below heard every word from the looming giants. Bigs were always louder than they realized. However, Naila had garnered a reputation for herself across campus, if her outfit wasn't symbolic enough of her interests, and so her perverted musings caused little concern for the other students. Sam was too focused on performing to register the giant women's words anyhow.

            “Listen up, new recruits.” Javi stood tall and projected his voice, assuming command over the party. “As you know, you all signed up to monitor our state of the art nuclear facility. Only the best and brightest receive such an opportunity, but with that talent must come discreteness. During your time here, you will bare witness to secrets so extraordinary as to rattle the mind, experiments too extreme for the public to comprehend. I hope you are all prepared.”

            The four tinies glanced wearily at one another, wondering what “extraordinary” effect a bunch of college freshmen could have pulled off. Javi was pleased by the reaction, knowing their doubts would serve as kindling to the thrills they had in store.

            “Let us begin the tour, shall we? You two lovely ladies,” he said pointing up at the bigs towering over everyone. “Could you be so kind as to step into that room over there?” He pointed towards the side room door. “That will be your station. An instructional video will play upon entry.”

            Naila and Justine shrugged to each other and complied, walking over to the only other door in the room and stepping inside. The side room's interior looked like a military command center ripped straight off an amateur film set. There was a wooden table with a tactical map sprawled over it, a desk holding four TV monitors, bookshelves lined with heavy, hard-covered tomes, and random chess pieces scattered throughout the room. The TV monitors appeared to display surveillance footage from the main room through a CRT filter, each cutting to different angles at set intervals. In front of the monitors sat a keyboard, a Steel Battalion controller, a Sharp 12-digit desktop calculator, a brick phone, and a Bop-It. 

            A 55-inch OLED flatscreen hung on a side wall displaying what looked like street level surveillance of the main room's diorama. Unlike its smaller desktop counterparts, its picture was in crisp 8K, so clear it was like looking through a window. Most of the floor was taken up by the same white platform seen in the main room, the tables and equipment standing atop it. A massive cabinet was bolted to the back wall, its doors unopenable due to the platform blocking it at the bottom. It was the only piece of furniture not standing on the platform. 

            Justine closed the door behind her as she followed her girlfriend in. Upon entering, one of the TV monitors flicked to pre-recorded footage of Citizen Professor Dr. Javier Delgado.

            “Welcome, new recruits, to your battle station! You will be in charge of security at this experimental nuclear facility. If you look out the window to your left …” The women turned to face the OLED screen. “… you can see a lovely view of the facility, but your eyes will spend most of the time trained on these monitors.” Javi held his arms out at his side, gesturing towards the screens beside his own. “In standby mode, they will cut back and forth between all available cameras. In the event of an emergency, Heaven forbid, you will be able to manually control the display via the keyboard in front of you.”

            “What's the Bop-It for?” Naila asked, picking up the children's toy. However, since the video was pre-recorded, Citizen Professor Dr. Javier could not address the question.

            “In such an unlikely scenario,” he continued, “you will also be responsible for the facility's many weapon systems. We sport a wide array of defensive measures such as automated turrets, electric flooring, missile launchers, and even a railgun. But I must insist that such drastic measures will likely not be necessary.”

            Back in the main room, Javi and Sam led the tinies up a ramp onto the platform. The ground had a strange plastic consistency similar to the coverings for LED lights. Rectangular towers spaced suspiciously far apart from each other rose up all around them. A few of the “buildings” had neon-colored doors while others appeared inaccessible. Miniature toy guns jutted out the tops of a few of them, model AR-15s and bazookas with bright orange rings around the nozzles. From inside the side room, Justine and Naila could see the group walk by in real time. The display made the tinies appear as big as they were, as if the girls were actually looking out a window and not at a live feed.

            “This is our humble facility and where you'll be residing for the next few months.” Javi stretched his arms out in a grand, sweeping gesture. “We have all the amenities you could ask for: a barracks, a food court, a spa, and a racquet ball court. But remember, you're here to work. This facility provides clean, extremely volatile energy to the surrounding area. Many of the buildings you see here house functions devoted to maintaining the intricate balance needed to keep the lights on. Believe it or not, we are standing above a vast well of nuclear power. Even the slightest idiosyncrasy would spell disaster for the whole region, so it is our duty to-”

            On cue, an alarm blared out of loudspeakers hidden throughout the room. The platform floor in both rooms bled red, shrouding the players in crimson light. A remote lock on the side room door clicked shut, trapping the two women inside.

            “What's going on, Professor?!” Sam tugged at Javi's sleeve, their character looking to his as an anchor.

            A sudden outburst of maniacal cackling echoed throughout the room. Tinies clutched their ears in a vain attempt to block out the dreaded cacophony.

            “By Jove,” Javi uttered in disbelief. “It can't be.”

            Jackie stepped out from behind the curtain, a venerable monster of her former self. Much of her body was wrapped in blood-stained gauze from her neck down to her ankles. She wore a straitjacket with the sleeves torn off, and a white pair of short shorts that blended in beneath the gauze. Her hair was dyed black, and a messy splotch of blood red lipstick covered her whole mouth down to the chin. The rest of her face and skin was painted a palid white, giving her the complexion of an anemic ghost. Her eyes were stranded in pools of deep grey eyeshadow, appearing as if she hadn't slept in years. In stark contrast to the rest of her macabre attire, her shoes were a brand-new pair of Converse bearing the Beanstalk Co. logo on the heel. Joining the fashion disaster was a leather fanny pack tied around her waist, its purpose unclear.

            “What do we have here?” Jackie asked with insidious innocence. “An insect infestation? Or perhaps an all-I-can-eat buffet.” The gigantic monstrosity took one step onto the platform and the ground trembled beneath her. Another step brought further rumbling, enough to send vibrations up the tiny group’s legs. They weren’t alone; Naila and Justine felt the tremors too, the platform beneath them shaking every time Jackie’s foot fell.

            The Rumble Board was an experimental prototype still nearing the final phases of development at Beanstalk Co. Hidden behind the gauze were two leg straps wrapped around Jackie’s calves. Upon detecting the impact of a step, the bands sent wireless signals to the floorboard, activating haptic vibrators that simulated an earthshaking rumble. The technology was precise enough to strengthen the sensation nearest where the foot fell and gradually weaken it the farther out it got. It could also distinguish between the force of a step and that of a stomp. Other floorboards could also connect wirelessly, but their vibration intensities were set at constant intervals, unable to judge the distance of a user standing on a different board.

            While market success was far from a guarantee, the developers at Beanstalk were confident in the device’s appeal among mixed size couples. Growth and rampage roleplay grew increasingly popular amongst such groups, and nothing sold the illusion of gigantism better than a booming stomp. That’s why the board also contained speakers running throughout it, ready to add a deafening thud at the source of each step. The final product would also include a digital screen capable of displaying realistic environments, from forests to craggy paths and even urban layouts. However, the current model only had an LED screen that could shine mood lighting.

            “It’s a Tyrant! We have to run!” Javi shouted, leading the group into the nearest building. The others followed along behind him, pushing through the bright red door into a Styrofoam structure as the rumbling intensified.

            Pierce stood frozen in awe in the path of the deranged psycho, once his lovely girlfriend. Her gait was slow and deliberate, savoring each crushing step as she embodied the role of a sadistic giantess. As the monster approached, Pierce's eyes remained glued to her as if she were a supermodel strutting down the catwalk.

            “Pier-, I mean … Come on, buddy! We have to move!” Sam tugged at Pierce's arm and pulled him into the building, sealing the door shut behind them.

            “Yes, run and hide,” Jackie goaded, her voice booming louder than her steps as she sauntered down the aisle. A mic on her straitjacket’s collar amplified her speech on the loudspeakers throughout both rooms, making her presence larger than life. “Picking you off one by one will make this all the sweeter.”

            The Styrofoam structure’s interior was empty save for a map hanging on a wall and a brick phone on the floor. Light shone in through the see-through, plexiglass roof, illuminating the space large enough to fit the seven tinies. The giant woman’s stomping was heard and felt as she rampaged outside.

            “I should have expected a Tyrant would appear. They’re drawn to large sources of nuclear energy,” Javi muttered loudly. He had spent an entire night drafting lore for his escape room the others insisted would never actually make it into the game itself. “Still, on the new arrival’s first day? You’re an unlucky bunch. But no need to fret. Our state-of-the-art defenses will …” The overhead lights shut off, drowning the group in darkness, before returning to mid-brightness. “Shit, she cut the power. Looks like the backup generator kicked in, but it won’t last for long.”

            Javi and the players turned their attention to the map of the facility which highlighted key points. “Our first stop will have to be here.” Javi pointed to a building a short distance away from their current location. “We have to stabilize the nuclear reactors first, or this whole place will blow. Then, we’ll want to get main power back online, the weapon systems operational, and communications reconnected.”

            “Lemme guess,” one player said, “all of those are going to be in separate buildings.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “And we’ll have to solve a random puzzle to clear each station,” another player added.

            “You betcha.”

            “All while avoiding her.” A third player pointed to the glass ceiling. Jackie stood over the building, peering down with a twisted grin.

            “You can't hide forever.” Jackie crouched down, her expansive face overtaking the tinies’ only view outside. “You'll have to come out eventually. And when you do, you'll be mine.” She stuck her tongue out and licked the glass. She lapped at it with unhealthy fervor, mashing her lips against the clear surface like she was making out with it. While the other tinies turned back to the map and planned their route, Pierce stared up at his girlfriend's tongue crawling all over the glass, leaving thick trails of spit in its wake. While knowing what was to come had infected his stomach with butterflies since early that morning, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by his girlfriend's enthusiasm. 

            Jackie moaned dementedly as she fantasized gobbling up everyone inside. Of course, there was only one tiny in particular she craved, but her character saw the whole lot as delectable morsels, and Jackie was nothing if not committed. Still, that teeny skeleton gazing up at her warmed her loins something fierce.

            “Hey, dude. Focus.” Javi nudged his best friend with his elbow. “You can't keep gawking at her. You're just a random bloke, remember? No one's supposed to know you're her boyfriend.”

            “Right. Sorry.” Pierce joined the other players to contribute to their plans, pretending he wasn't already aware of the best course of action.

            Not that I can blame you, Javi thought as he watched Jackie continue to tongue the glass. She is really getting into this.

            “Hand me that phone there,” Javi commanded. One of the players tossed the heavy brick to him. Javi exaggerated drawing out the antenna and pressed a button to call the matching phone in the side room.

            “Hello?” Justine answered on the other end. “"Is this the Doctor Citizen Professor Whatever? The floor stopped blinking, but we're locked inside.”

            “Yes, an emergency safety measure. You don't want to wander outside at the moment.” Javi looked up at Jackie who was now poking the glass ceiling like a bored child at the aquarium. “If we're going to get out of this alive, we'll need both of your assistance.” While Justine spoke with Javi on the phone, Naila ran around the room gathering chess pieces and making notes of where she found them. She'd participated in enough escape rooms to know the chess pieces would be important. “As I told you before, your team is in charge of the facility’s defensive measures. With the power out, your current options are limited, but as our group restores more stations, you'll gain access to more weapons. For now, press any key on the keyboard in front of you.”

            Justine complied, triggering a pop-up on one of the TV monitors. The screen went black and green text appeared in the left upper hand corner. 

            Threat detected, it read. Activate defense mainframe? Y/N

            “Follow the prompts on the screen,” Javi instructed. “It will guide you through the next steps.”

            After Justine's confirmation, a new message appeared. Insufficient power. System will require incremental rebooting. Please follow the prompts and input the correct solutions to progress. There was a two second delay before the program typed its question. Check on the King, will ya Mate?

            “What the hell is that supposed to …” Justine's eyes went wide as she turned to her partner. “Naila, did you find a king piece?”

            “Right here!” Naila grabbed and examined it in her hand. “There's numbers on the bottom! 51342.” Justine punched them in, and the program whirred to life.

            Congratulations! Signal beacons activated.

            “Why would a power plant’s OS require solving puzzles to execute commands?” Justine asked.

            “This site was built over a dilapidated mansion that used to be a police station that used to be an art musuem, and all our infrastructure was grandfathered in from way back when,” Javi explained over the phone. Before Justine had a chance to scrutinize the logic of that, an alarm rang out from the side room's speakers. 

            Beacons lit up atop one of the diorama's inaccessible buildings, drawing Jackie's attention. She stood up and traipsed over towards the source of the commotion, turning her back to the group of tinies.

            “Good work. Now we're in the clear over here,” Javi said. “I don't know how long the monster will stay distracted, but keep progressing through the reboot sequence. You are our best hope of getting out of this alive. Oh, and good luck over there.” 

            As Javi hung up the phone, Justine and Naila felt the tremors slow in pace beneath their feet. The security footage showed Jackie crouch over the lit up building and peer into a small hole in the side. Justine felt the hair on the back of her neck rise as she turned to check the OLED screen.

            “Aaah!” Justine screamed and fell to the ground. A gigantic eye overtook the “window” facing outside. The massive pupil, black as the void, darted around the corners of the room until settling on the frightened woman on the floor.

            “I see you.” Jackie’s taunt blared out of the side room’s speakers, selling the illusion that a giant woman had actually closed in on the couple. She couldn’t actually see them, Jackie staring into the lens of a live streaming camera, but after enough test runs, she figured out where exactly to look to achieve the desired effect.

            Naila rushed over to her girlfriend to help her up, though she almost fell over a few times herself. Stiletto heels did not pair well with vibrating floorboards. “Holy shit!” she exclaimed. “Is this how tinies always feel around us?” The floor shook violently as Jackie grabbed hold of the building they were symbolically residing in, clutching it as if to rip it off its superglued foundations. “How do we get her away from us?”

            With Naila’s help, Justine stood up and returned to the monitor. A new message appeared beneath the last one: Activate automated turrets? Y/N

            “Yes!”

            Choose deployment location. A/B/C

            “Naila, check the map on the table.”

            “What’s it matter?! Anywhere is better than here!” Naila shoved Justine aside and mashed the A key.

            What three numbers, none of which are zero, result in the same answer whether they are added or multiplied?

            “Goddammit!” they shouted in unison.

            The program Justine and Naila interfaced with was a simple UI display developed by Pierce in the span of an hour. It had a set script that only progressed when the correct input was entered into it. Devising the puzzles was the hardest part, a joint effort from Pierce, Sam, and Jackie. Each person’s contributions were easily identifiable; riddles were Sam’s specialty, puzzles taken straight out of a Resident Evil game were Jackie’s babies, and awkward wordplay was Pierce’s fault. But the real magic wasn’t tied to the program, not directly.

            Unbeknownst to the two women inside, a tiny Beanstalk employee lied hidden on top of the tall cabinet. By using a remote controller Pierce rewired, the hidden employee could operate nearly every piece of hardware in the escape room, from the classroom lights to the lock on the side room door. Game elements such as the signal beacons, toy weaponry, and alarms were also under his jurisdiction, activating commands according to a script to give Naila and Justine the impression they were doing so through Pierce’s user interface. The employee’s primary purpose was to supervise the side room, to unlock the doors and notify the other organizers in case of a medical emergency, but he got saddled with button duty so that Sam would be available to take part in the action.

            “It’s 1-2-3.” Justine punched it into the keyboard “Gah! What a stupid, simple riddle.”

            Congratulations! Automated turrets subsection A activated. Upon receiving the signal, the tiny employee pressed the proper button to spring the toy guns to life. The orange nozzle tips flashed bright red and the sound of bullet fire roared from the rooftop they were taped to.

            “Augh!” Jackie winced in pain, raising her arm in front of her face to block the imaginary bullets pelting her. Losing interest in her current targets, Jackie turned her attention to the turrets, standing up and jaunting towards them.

            “We did it!” Naila hugged Justine and hopped in place. But Justine didn’t celebrate. Her eyes were trained on the surveillance footage of Jackie approaching the group of tinies stranded outside.

            “Babe, I think we messed up.” Justine dashed to the map on the table and found where the section A turrets were placed: the building adjacent to the station the other team was on their way to, landing them directly in the giantess’ war path.

            “Go!Go!Go!” Sam and Pierce led the charge while Javi brought up the rear. The tinies were out in the open, having to cross an empty stretch to get to their next objective: a generator station where they could stabilize the backup power. In the short time it took them to reach their destination, Jackie was already on them. The giant monster struck a nearby building, dismantling the toy guns from their mantle. Sam reached the generator station first and held the door open for the others.

            “Here! Take this!” Javi tossed the brick phone to the player in front of him, the two of them still a fair distance from the door. Before he could say another word, Javi felt a great weight crash against his back, knocking him flat on the floor. “Gaah!” The tip of Jackie’s converse pinned him from the waist down, the giant woman shifting her weight to her toes.

            “I warned you,” she said with an eerily casual cadence. “You can’t escape me. None of you can.” Jackie grinded her toes into the figurative dirt, eliciting shrieks of pain from her captive. The tiny running in front of Javi froze in fear, forced to watch his peer’s torture out of morbid curiosity. The other players crowded the doorway, terrified and unable to look away.

            “Leave me!” Javi shouted with his final breaths. “It’s up to you guys now. Only by working together can you defeat this menace!” Jackie lifted her foot and dangled it over the bug cast in her shadow. The straggling player reached his arm out, an involuntary reaction and a hopeless effort. Jackie stomped on Javi hard and fast, strong enough to rattle the straggling player off his feet. Javi couldn’t be seen, his body consumed by the sneaker’s sole.

            “Quit dilly dallying, and get in here!” Sam yanked the last player up and inside, bolting the door closed behind them.

            Jackie lifted her foot and turned her sole upwards, examining her handiwork. “Poor little insect. I barely got to play with you.” Upon hearing his cue, the tiny employee pressed a button that caused Naila and Justine’s security footage to glitch out, fading to white noise for a few seconds. In that time, Jackie peeled Javi off her sole and stowed him in her fanny pack.

            Javi was blushing red. Under her foot, he felt the full weight of Jackie’s body press down on him, but the shoe’s sole swaddled him like a heavy blanket fresh out of the dryer.

            Beanstalk Co.’s patented Safety Stomper resembled a hi-top sneaker from all angles but the bottom. Its sole was made of a special memory foam that molded around both the foot and anyone fortunate enough to find themselves beneath it, creating an insulating layer that allowed a tiny to experience the full weight of a big without getting crushed to a pulp. Micropores in the material kept the foam breathable, meaning a tiny could remain plastered to their giant partner’s sole for several minutes without issue. The one drawback was the sole’s fragility, intended exclusively for indoor use. Trying to bring a pair outside would shred the foam before the wearer got to their car.

            An old smartphone, wider than the tinies were tall, leaned horizontally against the wall inside the generator station. It ran a pipe puzzle game in which players had to rearrange and rotate a series of pipes so that water could flow from start to finish. The puzzle was complex enough to prove somewhat challenging to a group of college students, made only harder by the booms and shaking occurring just outside.

            Pierce joined the others in solving it, pretending he didn't already know the solution and maybe sabotaging their progress a few times. His simpleton act was rather easy to uphold given that his focus lied elsewhere. His moment of truth was swiftly approaching, and nothing tore away at one's acuity like anxiety.

            After suffering minimal setbacks, the group solved the puzzle and stabilized the generator. “We're finished here,” one of the players said into the brick phone. “Can you distract the … What'd he call her? A Dominant?”

            “Already on it.” Justine punched in the answer revealed by completing a slide puzzle and activated rocket launchers on a faraway rooftop. Naila made sure to check the map this time. On the other side of the platform, bazookas lit up in bright flashes of red and played missile launching sound effects. The floor flashed orange around Jackie as the imaginary projectiles made “contact,” felling the giantess.

            Jackie landed on her hip and panted to portray the hit as a real inconvenience. While the monster was down, the tinies rushed out of the room, passing her by as they fled to their next objective.

            In the back of the pack, Pierce's heart pumped loud as an engine. He knew what was coming next and only wished he could prolong it further. The gang hadn't received the Vore Suit until an hour before the opening while getting everything prepared, meaning they never had the chance to rehearse the actual swallow itself. At the time, Pierce was relieved to put it off as long as he could, but that only gave his fears more time to stew. Now, he was at the tipping point, and he almost wanted to veer off script to avoid the inevitable.

            Trapped in the maze of anxious apprehension, Pierce tripped just as he had practiced, more a conditioned response than a willful act. The others turned to see him lying on the ground, listless in getting back up. The players glanced at one another, silently debating if it was worth the risk to go back and help him. It didn't matter. Jackie made the decision for them.

            Her hand stretched out over the hapless tiny, descending upon him with predatory efficiency. She pinched his legs and dragged him across the floor, Pierce clawing and screaming in desperation. His performance was Broadway worthy, fueled by genuine unease. The others froze and observed unblinking, wondering what would become of a man they still believed was one of their own. 

            “Look at you. Prime for the picking.” Jackie dangled Pierce before her grinning mouth, her teeth resplendent as the pearly gates. Ever so slowly, her tongue slithered out from its den, tearing free from the strands of saliva chaining it to the roof of her mouth. The warm, wet muscle chomped at the bit for a taste of man meat. Her man meat. 

            Jackie moaned as her tongue crawled up her boyfriend's suspended body. The mystery flavor turned out to be sour green apple; the candy flavoring danced merrily on her tastebuds. Before Pierce could catch his breath, she went in for another lick. Her soft tongue enveloped his face, chest, and gut, massaging him with its bumps and grooves. Jackie almost broke character when she felt the bulge forming just below his belly. Pierce's body acted on its own, savoring the intimate embrace of his partner. He probably would have enjoyed his new lot in life as her lollipop if he wasn't so ridden with anxiety.

            Jackie kept licking her lover. Perhaps more times than she was supposed to, but she couldn’t get enough. The prelude to her ultimate fantasy, Jackie struggled to maintain her composure. Her inhibitions vanished behind the veil of a costume, and she had to remind herself that eyes were on her, lest she succumb to passion and engage in acts truly uncouth.

            After enough toying around, Jackie dropped Pierce onto her tongue and pulled him into her waiting maw. He was struck first by the humidity, her dank breath washing over him as the pink walls of her cheeks entombed him. Next came the smell: mint. Pierce had noticed Jackie scarfing the hard candies throughout the day, but hadn’t paid it any mind until now. Did she do that for me? The fresh scent soothed his nerves for but a moment, however.

            Pierce made the mistake of looking up, his head pointed towards the back of Jackie’s mouth. The black pit of the throat loomed over him, promising a drop into the depths of Hell. The woman’s uvula hung over Pierce like a sword of Damocles. He shot his gaze downward in time to watch the last rays of light vanish behind Jackie’s closing lips. He was surrounded on all sides by ivory guillotines, each housing the strength to mash his bones to dust. Death resided in every corner of the darkness consuming him.

            The hyperventilating lasted but a second before all the air was squeezed from Pierce’s lungs. Jackie slammed him into the roof of her mouth and gently kneaded his body into the grooves. He had the perfect mouthfeel, so perfectly plump. It took a hero’s willpower not to nibble on him, settling on rolling him with her tongue. Saliva coated Pierce from head to toe as he was pushed into the inner lining of her cheek. He was at the complete mercy of the tensile muscle, moved about the mouth like a Jolly Rancher too stubborn to dissolve. After mashing her snack into both cheeks, Jackie brought him back to the center to grind him once more against her hard palate. She didn’t realize the erection was involuntary, a physical response to all the smothering in that smoldering mouth. She couldn’t feel the tears encased by the Vore Suit.

            As Jackie’s tongue relaxed and spit welled around her gums, Pierce broke down and cried, knowing full well what came next. “Please, Jackie, don’t do it. Don’t swallow me. Please, don’t swallow me. Please.” Gasps of air separated each plea, snot leaking from his nose and his eyes bloodshot. “Please, don’t swallow me. Please, don’t swallow me. Please, don’t swallow me.” The gang devised a safeword to signal Jackie to stop whatever she was doing. Whether in case of an emergency or Jackie’s character inciting real emotional trauma, everyone agreed on the impertinence of clearly communicating to her to end the game. Overwhelmed with panic, Pierce forgot the safeword. He was so out of it, he forgot they came up with one to begin with. “Please, Jackie. I don’t want to go down there. I’m scared, Jackie. I don’t want to-”

            Gulp!

            Jackie traced the path down her neck to her chest and then to her belly, purring the whole way down. She patted her tummy and rubbed it with grim satisfaction. “How scrumptious. I love it when you little morsels struggle.”

            “Shit, did she really eat him?” one of the players asked. They all stood frozen in awe, wishing they had read that waiver more carefully.

            Pierce was sealed within thick walls of flesh, unable to pry his arms away from his sides. Tears streamed from their ducts, and he breathed in short, sporadic huffs. His eyes were glued shut as they tried and failed to block out reality. He remained like this for a few passing seconds until it dawned on him. He wasn’t moving. He was lying down horizontally. The tissue behind him was solid while the sinew before him was soft as Jackie’s tongue. Almost like it was her tongue.

            Pierce opened his eyes to see dim strands of light slip through gaps of Jackie’s teeth, presumably smiling. He was still in her mouth, tucked safely underneath her tongue.

            “What are you lot staring at?” Jackie asked the tinies caught in her shadow, her speech unphased by the man lying beside her frenulum. “Finally learn your place?”

            Pierce took a deep breath, and his eyes dried up. He was stuck in place on the floor of her mouth, but the dread faded away. Her tongue covered him like a blanket, nestling him in her warm embrace. “Thank you.”

            “You’re welcome to join him, if you’re so eager to become a part of me.”

            “Come on, guys! We gotta move!” Sam snapped the tinies out of their collective daze, leading the group back on track. They ran away from Jackie with newfound incentive, but one player made the mistake of looking back at her. His pace slowed enough to keep him in arm’s reach, and Jackie didn’t let the chance slip by. She grabbed him, securing him firmly between her fingers, and lifted him to her face, holding her chin high to keep her secret passenger hidden.

            “Ooh, another tasty treat. But I’m still savoring the last one, so I’ll have to save you for later.” Jackie stood up and lowered the player into her fanny pack.

            “Hey there!” Javi greeted the player as he was dropped off into the brown leather sack. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. While you’re here, would you kindly fill out this survey to let us know how we’re doing? Your feedback is greatly appreciated.” He handed the player a pen and sheet of paper, a miserly grin stretched across his face.

            Jackie heard the sound of bazookas firing at her and flinched in response. “Annoying pests.” Sneering at her assailant, the giantess shifted her attention from the tinies and trudged towards the turrets, allowing the rest of the group to get away.

            From there, the escape room proceeded with nary a hitch. It fell into the flow of the tinies completing their objectives, Justine and Naila distracting Jackie by activating traps, and Javi entertaining his guest while Pierce collected himself inside his girlfriend’s mouth. At one point, Jackie got her hands on another player and added him to her growing collection. Sam was left with a male junior and a female sophomore, the three completing their tasks until only the final act remained.

            “We need to reach the munitions bunker to redirect power to the railgun. That's our only chance at stopping her.” Sam poured over the map of the facility, one of the players having shot a pic of it on their phone. “It's far. We'll need a distraction.”

            “She just destroyed our last turret,” Justine reported over the brick. “You guys are on your own.”

            “Then I have no other option. I'll play the decoy while you two finish her off.” Sam made for the door, their head held high in the face of certain doom.

            “Wait, let me go instead,” the junior offered, a fair bit taller and packing a fair more muscles than the mousy lab assistant. “I can hold her off for longer.”

            “I have seniority here, so it's my decision. I can't risk losing any more recruits.” Sam burst through the door before the others could get another word in. Just as they stepped outside into an empty street, Jackie turned the corner, locking eyes with the tiny as she tossed toy guns to the floor. “Hey ya big meanie! Come and get me!”

            Sam ran past Jackie towards the other end of the platform with no real destination in mind. The giant woman stopped and watched the tiny scurry by, amused by the fruitlessness of their effort. The other two tinies stepped outside and ran in the other direction. The ploy was obvious, but Jackie played along, chasing after Sam at a leisurely pace like a cat assured it’s cornered the mouse.

            Sam ran until they reached the end of the platform, almost tripping a few times as the rumbling grew closer. Were they in actual danger, they could have leapt off the edge onto the classroom’s carpeted flooring and search for a hiding place or an escape route, but in the spirit of the game, Sam turned to face their nemesis with their back against the wall.

            “End of the line. Any last words?” Jackie raised her foot over Sam, drawing circles in the air with her toes as the tiny looked up in horror at the monstrous woman’s sole. They delved deep into their imagination to retrieve a cool one liner to speak before their inevitable demise.

            “You-” Sam was cut off by Jackie’s shoe crashing into them like a meteorite. Jackie stomped hard enough for her remaining victims to feel it on the other end of the platform and grinded her sole into the ground for extra emphasis. After the initial shock of getting stepped on, Sam couldn’t believe how cozy it was under Jackie’s sole. The memory form molded around them, body heat radiated out from Jackie’s foot, and the giant woman’s weight squeezed them tight. When Jackie lifted her foot to pry the tiny from her sole, it harkened back to halcyon days of alarm clocks ripping Sam from slumber, being dragged out of bed by their mother so as to not be late to school.

            Jackie dropped Sam into her fanny pack now teeming with life. Inside, Javi and the other two players were singing sea shanties. Their curiosity piqued, Sam thought to question the events that led to this development, but instead decided to join in on the song, adding an alto to their baritones.

            Jackie patted her fanny pack, pretending she couldn’t hear their raucous jubilee, and returned her sights to her target. “With them gone, all that’s left is …” She paused mid-thought, interrupted by an electronic device whirring to life. A video projector hung suspended from the classroom’s ceiling, dolled up with a long tube protruding from its lens and neon blue lights blinking all around it as if charging up energy. The two remaining players succeeded in powering on the railgun.

            Activate railgun? Y/N

            “Do it!” Naila commanded.

            “What kind of puzzle will it make us solve this time?”

            Bop it!

            The librarian stared blankly into the screen, doubting what her eyes read off it. Naila didn’t hesitate. She yanked the classic children’s toy off the desk and acquiesced to its demands.

            Twist it! Justine cheered her on, ready to topple the giantess once and for all.

            Pull it! The tiny Beanstalk employee progressed the program remotely as Naila performed her tasks.

            Whisper sweet nothings into its ear!

            “J’ai vraiment envie de toi mon vilaine,” Naila cooed. Justine blushed a bright rosé, flustered enough to forget to press the activation key.

            “I didn’t know you could speak French.”

            “I can instruct you in the language of love after we sequester ourselves to someplace more intimate, but for now we have a game to win.” Justine blinked a couple times and returned to the monitor to mash the Y key.

            Railgun activated. Launch of high-velocity tungsten missile imminent. Plasma globes suspended around the projector crackled with electricity. A rising tone came out of the room’s speakers, building up to a crescendo. Neon blue lights blinked furiously along the lengths of the tube taped to the projector. Jackie looked up at the weapon in horror, the giant monstrosity overcome with fear for the first time in its life.

            The classroom lights shone at maximum brightness, momentarily blinding everyone within the vicinity. A shrill scream rang in everyone’s ears, followed by a loud thud and intense rumbling. Once the dark spots faded from everyone’s vision, they all witnessed Jackie sprawled out on her back, dead. Victory fanfare trumpeted from the speakers. The great evil had been defeated, the remaining heroes left to live another day. Jackie wanted to wear a squib on her chest to add to the realism, but given that she was to be shot by a railgun all throughout the night, the gang decided the effect wasn’t worth the hassle of cleaning the fake blood up after every run.

            After playing dead for long enough, Jackie sat up and unzipped her fanny pack, letting her passengers off. While the living players had the honor of winning the game, the captured ones got the thrill of Jackie’s sudden drop, meaning everyone left happy. Naila and Justine stepped out of the now unlocked side room with their arms all over each other, thanking Javi and the others through gleeful laughter. While Javi and Sam waved everyone off, Jackie pulled Pierce out of her mouth.

            “How are you holding up?” she asked, holding him gently with her fingers.

            “I’m feeling better now.” Pierce unzipped the mask to his Vore Suit. His eyes were red and puffy, but his tear-stained cheeks had long dried. “Sorry for freaking out back there.”

            “You have nothing to apologize for. I hope I didn’t scare you too bad.” Jackie placed her thumb to his chest and rubbed soft circles into it. “You sounded so upset, but I didn’t want to stop everything and make a scene. I didn’t want to embarrass you, not that there’s anything to be ashamed of.” Her rubbing grew faster and harder as she corrected herself.

            “I appreciate it. And besides, scaring people is the whole point of Halloween.” He shot Jackie a big smile, calming her nerves.

            “Do you want to keep going? I don’t mind putting Sam in my mouth if you’d rather switch roles with them.” Her words said one thing, the proximity with which she held Pierce to her mouth said another. He could see the drool filling up behind her lower lip, his girlfriend almost literally foaming at the mouth to get him back inside there.

            “I don’t mind. Knowing you won’t swallow me takes a lot of the pressure off. I might even enjoy it this time.” He saw a fire lit up in those gigantic brown eyes of hers. “No, you know what? I’ll definitely make the most of it next time. I’ll be the tastiest, most fulfilling morsel you’ve ever laid your tastebuds on!”

            “Can you squirm around more when I’m sucking on you? Flail around, bang your fists against my gums, all that?” Now she really was drooling. Pierce couldn’t decide whether her enthusiasm was cute or deranged.

            “I can try, but I’m not sure you realize how strong your tongue is. Fighting against that monster is tough as hell.”

            “Silly, I don’t expect you to win. The struggle makes it all the more satisfying, especially when you have no hope of escape.” After considerable contemplation, Jackie puckered her lips and leaned in towards Pierce. She worried she traumatized him with her mouth and that even simple kisses were ruined for him, but feeling those miniscule lips press against hers eased her tension. She pulled him in closer, applying a bit more pressure as they kissed, and Pierce continued to reciprocate.

            “Alright, guys, let’s get everything cleaned up for the next group,” Javi said, interrupting the couple. He was surprised at first to see Pierce already outside Jackie’s stomach, but it didn’t take long for him to put two and two together. “Jackie, go prepare the side room. Pierce, help me reset all the puzzles.”

            “On it!” Jackie placed Pierce on the ground and ran off to the side room, her footsteps still causing tremors on the platform.

            “You good, dude?” Javi asked as they made for the nearest station. “I heard your screaming over the headset. I wasn’t sure if you were being serious or trying to match Jackie’s commitment to the role. You didn’t forget the safeword, did you?”

            “Do you think she’s upset at me for pussying out?” Pierce kept glancing towards the side room door. “Fuck, of course she is. I was such a coward. She probably hates my guts.” He was about to hit himself in the head in self-flagellation, but Javi grabbed his wrist before his fist could land.

            “She ain’t pissed at ya. If anything, I’d wager she’s happy you got as far as you did.” Javi let go of his friend’s wrist and laid his hand on Pierce’s shoulder.

            Pierce sighed. “You’re right. You’re always right about her. Sorry. It’s hard to think straight with all this excitement going on.”

            “Well, hurry up and clear your head. We’ve got a lot more runs to get through tonight. And if these surveys are anything to go off of,” Javi flipped through papers folded and tucked away in his lab coat, “Hapless Victim #2 has been a huge hit.”

            “By the way, how’d it feel getting stepped on?”

            Javi shrugged, a cocky grin crawling up the side of his face. “Heavenly, and I’m not even into feet. Jealous?”

            “Extremely.”

…

            A few hours into the night, and the Phantom of the Ballroom Dance was well underway. The student center's event hall was packed with individuals of both sizes dancing, frequenting the concessions table, mingling with friends or colleagues, resting at any of the provided seating, or otherwise taking part in the festivities. 

            Alena was in the middle of the busy dance floor, holding her hands out flat with her pinkies pressed together to form a miniature dance floor of her own. Ever the selfish partner, Lynn refused to dance with her tiny peers on the platforms provided, requiring the undivided attention of her lover as she strutted her stuff. After putting up a weak argument, Alena obliged. Her own dancing was hindered by concentrating on keeping her hands flat, but despite that her moves outshone everyone around her, especially to Lynn's discerning eye.

            Watching those hips shake and shoulders shimmy, Lynn reconsidered her position. Allowing the other tinies to bask in her and her girlfriend’s radiance may have been worth it to see Alena groove unfettered. But before she could make the suggestion, a fair-skinned hand appeared from the sky and snatched her up.

            Alena's eyes went wide with panic. The little woman had been turning heads all evening, at least Alena assumed she was the reason people kept looking in their direction, but Alena never expected someone to literally steal her girlfriend from her.

            “Mmph!” Lynn fought valiantly against her captor, wiggling like a worm in the larger woman's grip, but her efforts bore no fruit. The sudden invasion of personal space had shocked Lynn, but the tiny felt no fear. She recognized the lingering scent stuck to the massive fingers, that of rubber wheels and skateboard wax.

            “Mind if I borrow Lynn for a spell?” Heather asked, stepping back as if she had already received an answer. “There's someone I'd like her to meet.” In the spirit of Halloween, Heather dyed the blue half of hair black and the blonde half purple. Her dress was styled in a gradient: a dark blue bodice bled into a royal purple skirt. Sparkling sequins dotted her outfit, glimmering like stars beneath the ballroom lights. It was as if the woman had wrapped the very cosmos around her slim, athletic figure.

            “Heather, you scared me. Your new hair threw me off. It looks great by the way.” Alena rested a hand on her chest and took a deep breath.

            “Thanks! It's been so long since I wore it black, partially at least.”

            “Mmph!” Heather tightened her hold on Lynn, blocking the tiny's view to the outside with her fingers. 

            “And thanks for letting me borrow her. I'll only be a moment.” As Heather stepped away, she made a sign of the cross with her other hand, silencing the objection forming at Alena's lips. Once Heather had disappeared into the crowd with Lynn in tow, Alena crept towards the outer edge of the dance floor, keeping a watchful eye over her shoulder.

            “Hello there, Alena.” A woman in a blinding white outfit stood just off the dance floor. She was taller than Alena and thinner, more fit and less fat, but she had the same dark frizzy hair and matching skin tone.

            “What are you doing here, Mariah?”

            “This event is open to the public. I happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in on my baby sister, see how your freshman year is faring so far.” Mariah’s outfit was pure white from top to bottom. Her shin-length skirt, high-collared blouse, shawl, and pearl necklace were all pure enough to adorn the archangels. She eyed her little sister's evocative red dress and all the skin it proudly displayed with disdain.

            “Pretty good until you showed up,” Alena mumbled under her breath.

            “Feisty today, aren’t we? What’s got you so riled up?” The answer was written all over Alena’s scrunched face. Daggers shot out from behind her glasses. “Your date leave you high and dry? You did bring a date to this shindig, correct? I can’t imagine why else you would flaunt yourself like a harlot,” she said, pointing at the low cut in the chest where cloth ought to be.

            “I came with Heather. As a friend.” Alena's eyes darted to the corners, finding an empty patch of carpet to stare at. Even a stranger could tell she was hiding something.

            “Alena, we don’t have to play this game. If you’re here with a girl, as something other than a friend, you don’t need to hide her from me. Mother may be determined to set you up with every other boy who attends our church, but I understand it’ll take some time to outgrow this phase your in. I was your age once too you know.”

            Alena clenched her fists and gritted her teeth. After countless attempts at convincing her family that her sexuality wasn't a phase, Alena no longer had the strength to respond to the incessant jabs. She just wanted Mariah gone and Lynn back in her hands.

            “How is Miss Suzuran faring these days? It's been ages since I last saw her. Is she still ruining her hair with all those gaudy colors?” 

            “Heather's doing great. She quit smoking, and her hair is purple now because she doesn't give a damn about your approval.” Alena heard the crack appear in her voice. She was losing her cool, what little she had to begin with. It took her remaining willpower not to search the room for Heather. She needed Lynn back pronto. She needed to lean on those puny, titanic shoulders. “What the hell do want with me? Are you just here to ruin my night, or are you playing spy for mom, informing her of all the dastardly sins I’m committing at a public university?”

            The edge of Mariah’s lips curled up in smug satisfaction. “Relax, Alena. You’re acting hysterical. I told you, I was in the area and thought of dropping in to check on you. I’m not on some errand for mother, and I’m not snooping into your personal affairs. Unless …” Alena’s blood ran cold as Mariah’s glare bore holes into her soul. “… there is some truly impious offense you’re concealing from us. ‘Truthful lips endure forever, but a lying tongue lasts only a moment.’”

            Sweat ran down Alena’s forehead. Her breaths shortened. Her eyes quivered, unable to rest on any particular spot. She wanted to hold Lynn tightly to her chest and push her as far away as possible all at once. “Of course not,” she lied.

            “That’s what I thought.” Mariah patted her little sister’s shoulder, the closest thing to a hug she could bear to give and Alena could stand to receive. “I’ll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing with whomever it was you were with. Have fun. Be good. Next time I see you will likely be Thanksgiving.” With her piece said, Mariah waved farewell and slithered into the crowd, the white of her outfit vanishing behind a technicolor field of dresses and costumes.

            As soon as her sister was out of sight, Alena scanned the room for Heather. Tears welled in her eyes as she sought out the comfort only Lynn could provide.

…

            “Alright, everyone. You know the drill.” With the final player out the door, Javi signaled to the crew to set up for the next round. By this point, several games in, the team functioned like clockwork, needing little in the way of management to fulfill their positions.

            Sitting up on the platform, Jackie pulled Pierce out of her mouth. “How was I that time?” he asked.

            “Your screams are almost as convincing as the real ones, but if you were fighting back, I could hardly feel it. Round Four was still your best performance.”

            “Yeah, your tongue is really tiring me out,” Pierce said, panting. “I need a weaker sparring partner.” Jackie chuckled and kissed him. Even this far into the night, spending several defeats soaking in Jackie’s spit, the suit hadn't lost a trace of its green apple flavoring.

            “Sounds like you two could use a break.” Melanie appeared on the platform walking towards the couple. She was wearing a Vore Suit from the neck down, bearing the same skeleton pattern as Pierce's. Javi and Sam gathered around, both surprised to see the tiny committee's chairwoman there. “I'll fill in for you two for a round. Give you a chance to partake in some of the other exhibits.”

            “Hold up. Who's gonna play Jackie's part?” Javi asked.

            “A friend of mine agreed to help out. Don't worry, she's real eager, won't let you down. Jackie and Pierce can take the first break and then you and Sam can have the next.” Melanie scanned the room, taking in all the work that went into developing it. “I'd say you've all earned it. I've been hearing nothing but good things, and this is the most popular freshmen-run event tonight by a mile.”

            Javi was slightly annoyed to have his well-oiled machine disrupted, but he agreed the gang could use a break. “Fine. Jackie, Pierce, go enjoy yourselves. We'll call you when it's time to come back.”

            “Roger that.” With Pierce still in her hand, Jackie stood up and walked off the platform, sending tremors through it with every step. She took off her Safety Stompers and set them aside for her substitute, putting on her pair of sneakers before stepping out. She carried her boyfriend into the hallway and joined the wandering ghosts and ghouls. Dolled up in their costumes, the couple blended into the crowd as they made their way past a haunted mansion’s worth of spooky decorations.

            “I'm starving,” Jackie said, clutching her gurgling stomach. She rubbed her belly in attempt to settle it, but not even the ambient music was enough to drown it out. “Want to get a bite to eat?”

            “When was the last time you ate?” It dawned on Pierce that she probably kept her stomach empty on purpose, planning on filling it with a certain boy she liked. The polite predator keeps their stomach clear of detritus when voring their prey, so their guests aren't grossed out by partly digested meals. It supposedly makes for a more intimate experience as well if the tiny is all that's in there.

            “I had a light breakfast this morning.” Her light breakfast consisted of a bagel with cream cheese, followed by downing a container of breath mints throughout the day. She didn't want her insides smelling bad and leaving a bad first impression. Once again, her stomach gurgled, loud enough to punctuate her sentence.

            “It’s a miracle you haven’t passed out! We gotta get some food in you, stat. Come on, I’m pretty sure those cafés are nearby.” Sure enough, down a flight of stairs and around the corner resided the Succubus and Incubus Cafés. Situated within two large classrooms side by side, each pop-up restaurant could seat up to fifty giant guests at any given time. Their tiny sections could each fit one hundred of the puny folk, though mixed-size seating was also available at every big table. Wait times varied depending on the hour, the crowds ebbing and flowing as certain events began and others ended.

            “Which one should we eat at?” Jackie asked, head bobbing between the two.

            Pierce weighed his options. It boiled down to which was more tolerable: the envy aimed toward the hunky giant men serving them, or the awkwardness of scantily clad waitresses vying for the tiny guy’s attention while his girlfriend sat opposite him. “Incubus Café.”

            “Really?” Jackie raised an eyebrow, fascinated by his choice. “Why that one?”

            “I heard their coffee is better.” It wasn’t the best lie, but given the circumstances, it would do. Jackie accepted it, though a space in the back of her mind devoted itself to deducing the true reason.

            Jackie and Pierce arrived at a good time, only waiting ten minutes for an open seat. On their way to their table, they recognized a few players from previous games partaking in teas and sweets. One table even waved to the Towering Tyrant as she passed them by. Jackie and Pierce were seated in a corner of the room, secluded a bit from the other tables, and handed single-page menus from their server.

            “What can I get you to drink, sweetheart?” Their waiter was a heartthrob in a black speedo and matching necktie. Two demon horns sprouted out from his short, sandy hair, and a bloody tear drop was painted under one of his crystal blue eyes. Staring at the chiseled mural of a six-pack, Pierce regretted underestimating the power of the green-eyed monster taking the form of a blue-eyed devil. His only respite was the fact Jackie was too buried in the menu to appreciate the hunk next to her. Little did he realize, she was doing her damnedest to forget the incubus was there, the tall hunk’s presence unsettling her.

            “M-milk,” she said, not looking up at the smarmy face undressing her with its eyes. With the effort one puts into acknowledging an ant on the sidewalk, the waiter turned his gaze to Pierce.

            “And what do you want?”

            “A coffee. One sugar, one cream.” Pierce ignored the waiter's obvious animosity. It wasn’t worth making a fuss over, especially when he could really use that coffee. Behind her menu, Jackie registered how rudely the waiter was treating her date. A few choice words came to mind, but she lacked the backbone to say them to his face.

            “I’ll have those right out.” Once the waiter left, Jackie set her menu down and stared at her boyfriend sitting on the other side of the table. She had a confession to make, and knew their break was the best time to get it out there, but finding the courage to lay bare a long-held secret was another matter.

            “I … I, uh …”

            “For the lady.” The waiter returned with their beverages, placing a freshly poured cup of milk in front of Jackie. “Here.” And handing a small, disposable coffee cup to Pierce. One sip was all it took to know it was black.

            “Hey, you forgot the cream and sugar.”

            The waiter rolled his eyes. “You can get those yourself.” He pointed to a puny pair of canisters over in the tiny section on the other end of the room.

            “No, I can't. It'd take me all night to get over there.” 

            “G-get them for him.” Jackie spoke softly, but the glare she shot the waiter dripped with venom. With an exaggerated sigh, the waiter complied, traipsing to a nearby counter where fellow incubi were serving food and drink from.

            Jackie concentrated on what she had to tell Pierce. She formed the words, organized them into succinct sentences, and recited each syllable thoroughly. “Pierce, I-”

            “Here you go.” The waiter returned and dropped a couple capsules onto Pierce's table. His scowl curled the other direction as he turned towards Jackie. “Are you ready to order, sweetheart?”

            “A jelly donut. R-raspberry.” Jackie handed her menu for the waiter to take while staring in the opposite direction.

            “Wait, you gotta get more than that. All that sugar by itself isn't going to fill you up. You need protein too.” Pierce skimmed through the menu while Jackie’s stomach continued grumbling. She craved a more substantial meal, the eggs Benedict caught her eye, but she was afraid eating meat would cause her breath to stink. Pierce still had plenty of time to spend in her mouth when they got back to the escape room, and she was all out of mints. “I'd recommend the eggs Benedict. Plenty of meat and carbs to keep you tip-top the rest of the night, and hollandaise sauce tastes great. Hell, I might get one myself.” Jackie smiled, inching her view far enough to catch Pierce within it.

            “I suggest the Caesar salad. Better for your figure.” Jackie’s smile promptly soured, her pupils retreating to the safety of the floor.

            “She hasn't eaten all day,” Pierce said sternly. “A salad isn't going to-”

            “No one asked you, pipsqueak.”

            For the first time, Jackie looked the waiter dead in the eyes, sitting up straight in her chair. “I want a raspberry jelly donut, and eggs Benedicts for the both of us.” You can shove your salad up your ass. “And don’t call him that.”

            “I’ve got a better idea.” The waiter sat on the edge of the table, arms stretched out behind him as he leaned back. His forearms blocked Pierce from Jackie’s line of sight. “How’s about you and me blow this popsicle stand. Leave shrimpy here in the dust while I take you on a real date with a real man.” It was impossible to tell under her face paint, but Jackie’s skin went white as a sheet. Her shoulders slouched, and she lost the composure she so briefly held.

            “Back off, jerk!” Pierce rose from his seat, almost knocking his coffee over by bumping the mini table it rested on. “Can’t you see how uncomfortable you’re making her?”

            “She’s just shy. That’s okay. I like quiet gals.” By this point, the table was making enough commotion to draw the attention of nearby patrons. Jackie wanted so badly to tell their waiter to beat it, but with him towering over her and whispers creeping into her ears from behind, she froze up.

            “I thought the waiters here were supposed to be seductive,” Pierce retorted. “You’re just a sleaze. I knew this place was popular and workers were in high demand, but I didn’t realize they were desperate enough to hire any dickwad off the street with a half-decent jawline.”

            “Watch it, runt. Didn’t your mama teach you to respect your betters? I could kick your ass with my pinky finger.”

            Jackie leapt out of her chair, sending it falling to the floor. “If you so much as touch him, I’ll rip out your spine and jump rope with it!” The whole café went silent. The empty air deafened her, its stillness crushing her shoulders. She felt every eye lock onto her, strangling her with their attention. Pierce and the waiter sat there frozen in awe. Neither could tell who was more shocked by the sudden outburst.

            “Kyle! Grab your stuff, and get the hell out of here!” A man with a hi-top fade and pencil-thin mustache stormed out from the kitchen. His black leather pants were skintight, and he wore no shirt under his matching leather jacket.

            “Mr. Lawrence, I was just acting in-chara-”

            “Give me that lame-ass excuse one more time and I’ll shove that tie down your throat.” Mr. Lawrence reached the table, grabbed Kyle by the shoulders, and hurled him to the floor in the direction of the exit. “I’d confiscate your tips, but you’d have to had earned some!” While Kyle scurried out the door, Mr. Lawrence picked up Jackie’s chair and politely gestured for her sit back down. When she did, he pushed it in for her and stood to the side between the couple.

            “Please accept my humblest apologies for your server’s uncouth idiocy,” he said, bowing. “I don’t know why I keep giving these young bucks a chance. They wouldn’t know charm if it bit ‘em in the ass. Would you two do me the honor of permitting me to take your order? Your meal shall be on the house in light of your previous server’s inadequacy.”

            “Sure.” Jackie’s voice trailed off dreamily. Part of her wanted to retreat to the escape room, where no one saw the real her, only the scary monster she donned the guise of. But Jackie couldn’t resist the dulcet tone of Mr. Lawrence’s honeyed words. Pierce couldn’t either, mesmerized by a voice smooth as milk chocolate. This man was a real incubus, not some college freshman whose experience with women amounted to pick-up tutorials on YouTube. The insatiable gurgling emanating from Jackie’s stomach was also a deciding factor in staying to eat, and only the rich and foolish decline free food. “I’d like a raspberry jelly donut, and we’ll both have the eggs Benedict.”

            “Excellent choices. I’ll have chefs prepare them with extra love.” Mr. Lawrence stepped back and addressed the other patrons. “Everyone, apologies for the disturbance. Please return to enjoying your meals.” He took a bow and strutted into the kitchen, many guests enamored by the view of his departure.

            An ambient murmur returned to the café. Jackie fiddled with her costume while Pierce sipped his coffee. The two’s hearts steadily returned to their resting pace, and then Jackie broke the silence.

            “That was really brave of you, standing up to that creep like that.”

            Pierce blushed. “It was nothing. I had to make up for being such a big a cry baby before.” He chuckled to himself. “Besides, you were the one to strike fear in his heart. ‘Tear out his spine to jump rope with’? How’d you come up with that?”

            Jackie flashed a toothy smile. “Too many violent video games, I guess. I was so pissed and just blurted out the first thing that came to mind. And stop being so hard on yourself. You had every right to freak out in my mouth. I wish you had told me sooner you weren’t okay with being swallowed, then I wouldn’t have nearly traumatized you.”

            “Sorry.” Pierce scratched at the back of his head. “I knew how badly you were looking forward to this, and I wanted to pull through for you.”

            “You what?” Jackie shot Pierce a quizzical look. The tiny bit his tongue, failing to bring back the words he didn't intend to utter. “You knew?”

            Pierce scrambled for excuses, for justifications, for anything that could steer him through these choppy waters. “That didn't come out right. I just figured, you got so heated the other day with Jeremy, and you were so excited for tonight. I assumed,” Pierce lowered his voice, “I just assumed you might be into vore. Call it … intuition?” 

            Pierce omitted Javi's contribution to the revelation. He wanted to be truthful with Jackie, but there was no telling which direction this conversation was headed, and he wasn't going to drag his best friend down with him should things go sour. That, and he was embarrassed he didn't catch on to her kink himself, the signs so vividly clear in hindsight. As for Lynn’s involvement, Pierce would rather digest in Jackie’s bowels than divulge that.

            Jackie buried her face in her hands, denying Pierce any telling expressions. He anguished in the ambiguity, hating himself for revealing her secret for her, like opening his Christmas presents beforehand only to act surprised on the big day. Sweat drenched Pierce's palms, forehead, pretty much his whole body. He desperately wished to know what Jackie was thinking while disparaging himself for wanting to further invade her privacy.

            Laughter sprung out from behind Jackie's hands, the sudden noise startling Pierce. “Was I really that obvious?” The curtain of fingers finally lowered, revealing a smile and flushed cheeks. “Here I was, stressing out over how I would tell you, and you already pieced it all together. I'm such a fool.”

            “Sorry if that was rude of me. I wanted to let you bring it up when you were ready. It was more of a lucky guess anyway. You weren't that obvious about it.” His comments were mostly meant to comfort her, but they served the second purpose of salving his pride.

            “Please, this is a huge relief. I was terrified of what you'd think of me, especially with how uncomfortable vore makes you.” Jackie peeked behind her shoulders. The nearest table was within earshot, but they were engaged with their own conversation and there was enough ambient chatter to stifle unwanted eavesdropping. Jackie leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. “I don't actually want to eat you. That part is pure fantasy. I just want to get you inside my stomach. Safely. Feel you travel down my throat. Maybe tease and toy with you along the way.” She wiped the drool leaking from the corner of her lips and got back on track. “What I'm trying to say is, it's not like I'm trying to hurt you. It's not about eating you or digesting you. I mean, it kinda is, but it's more about the power dynamic and having you inside me, and, and, and it's really hard to explain.”

            “You don't have to explain it,” Pierce reassured her. “I understand the appeal. I mean, I don't really, but I get that you enjoy it, and that's good enough for me.”

            Jackie hung her head in relief, the tension draining from her nerves. “Thank you. I don't expect you to indulge me any more than you have tonight. I get how scary it must be from your perspective, so don't feel obligated to-”

            “I want you to swallow me,” Pierce said, shocking Jackie. “Eventually. Once I've built the nerve for it. Not tonight. But I want to do this for you. I know you'd do the same for me if I, uh.” Pierce paused and concentrated on what he had to tell Jackie. He formed the words, organized them into succinct sentences, and recited each syllable thoroughly. “I actually have a confession to make too. Since I know about your fetish, it's only fair you know mine.”

            Jackie’s ears perked up. “Yes! Tell me! No wait, let me guess.” Jackie closed her eyes and played back all the times they spent together. Pierce would have preferred to tell her himself than confront how poorly concealed his foot fetish was, but he let Jackie have her fun. It was only fair considering he “intuited” hers.

            “You have a hand fetish! You always like it when I carry you.” She announced that louder than Pierce would have liked, not that it mattered given how wrong she was. Or perhaps that made it worse.

            “That’s true, I like it when you hold me, but I don’t have a specific interest in your hands.” Jackie reached over to her boyfriend with her index finger extended, hooking it around his back. She pressed the tip softly against the back of his head and stroked the length of his backside, up and down in gentle, rhythmic motions. She felt his spine stiffen as sparks tingled from her touch. Then she pressed her thumb into his chest, sandwiching him in the subtle heat radiating off her skin. Pierce’s cheeks flushed red, and his heartbeat pulsed hard and fast against Jackie’s fingers.

            “You sure about that?” she cooed. All too quickly, she pulled her hand back, leaving Pierce in the embrace of cold, empty air. “Admit it. I’m spot on. You’re only denying it to save yourself from the Yoshikage Kira jokes.”

            “I’m not into hands,” he insisted while wishing she was still rubbing his back. “Avoiding the jokes is an added bonus. I’m forever grateful Araki didn’t give that guy a foot fetish.” Pierce played back what he said until he processed the slip-up. Jackie's amusement spread across her face and lit up Pierce's sky. “Shit.”

            “Feet, huh?” Jackie leaned back and peeked under the table, wiggling her toes inside her sneakers. She became more cognizant of them, feeling how they resided inside her shoes, how the cotton of her socks caressed her skin, and she pictured how it would feel to have a tiny man trapped beneath her sole, wedged in the gaps between her toes. “I can work with that.”

            “I just find them attractive. Like, uh, the ‘other’ body parts. I don't know. There's probably a psychological element, like what you said about a power dynamic. That might be involved because they're close to the floor and I'm close to the floor, like you’re way taller than me. I don't know. It's hard to explain.”

            “You don't have to explain.” Jackie reached over again and pinched her boyfriend's hand between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing circles into it. “Sounds fun, all the ways we can explore that.”

            “You don't think I'm a huge weirdo?” he asked, laughing at himself.

            “Did you forget the part where I admitted I want to swallow you whole? If you're a weirdo for liking feet, I don't want to know what that makes me.” The two held hands and stared into each other's eyes for a while, losing track of time until Mr. Lawrence returned with their food. As the pair dug in, Pierce watched his girlfriend eat, devouring the jelly-filled pastry with incredible ease. He was a gazelle watching a lioness hunt, and yet his psyche was nothing short of serene.

…

            Not long after Jackie stepped out of the escape room, her substitute came strolling in. She was a fair bit taller and appeared a few years older, likely a senior like Melanie. She was dressed as a vampire from the neck down, her puffy white shirt open at the collar to display her considerable cleavage. A red line crossed her neck with fake blood spilling out from it, painting her chest a deep sanguine. Strangest of all, a rubber Michael Myers mask obscured her face. If she had long hair, it must have been tucked up into the mask.

            The mysterious woman found the Safety Stompers by the door and put them on. They fit too snugly on her larger feet, but a bit of elbow grease was enough to squeeze into them. Without a word, she waved to Javi and the others and hid herself in Jackie’s spot behind the curtain.

            “I better go run her through the script,” Javi said, annoyed at having an unknown element take the reins in his tight operation. 

            “There's no need for that,” Melanie explained, donning the mask to her Vore Suit. “She's read through the plans you sent me. She knows the drill.” Melanie removed a smartwatch from her wrist and handed it to Javi. “Could you wear this for me during the game? I don't want it getting damaged in her stomach.”

            “You want me to wear it?” The watch looked like a Fitbit, displaying the wearer's vital signs like heart rate, respiration rate, and body temperature.

            “It'll be harder to lose around your wrist than in your pocket. Plus, you can net me extra steps while I'm stuck in her gut.” Javi put on the watch and returned to cleanup duty, directing Melanie where to help. One of the larger Beanstalk employees stepped up to reset the guns and the side room in lieu of Jackie, and then disappeared behind the curtain.

            A few minutes later, the escape room was ready to begin another round. This group consisted of three bigs and three tinies, plus Melanie in “costume” and Sam resuming the role of Citizen Professor Dr. Delgado's assistant. Javi performed the tutorial sequence efficiently, sending the bigs to their station and leading the tinies onto the platform. This late into the evening, he didn't have to think over his words or mannerisms anymore, all of them second nature. Then the alarms blared, and the room flashed red.

            Tremors ripped across the platform as the vampire stepped on board. Her mask was gone, allowing her long crimson hair to flow with the cape draped around her shoulders. Her lips were stained the color of blood, a pair of plastic vampire fangs lurking behind them. The towering woman strutted towards the tinies with an air of superiority, looking down on one man in particular.

            “Shawna?!” Javi was stunned enough to break character. As he felt the rumbling intensify beneath his feet, Javi composed himself and returned to the script. “By Jove, it's a Tyrant! Run for your lives!”

            Javi turned to lead the charge, but the giant woman was already on top of them, bending down with an arm outstretched.

            “Not so fast.” Shawna plucked Javi off the floor and lifted him high into the sky, dangling him before her ample lips. She loved how the speakers made her voice boom, as well as the vibrations running up her legs with every step. “I am incredibly peckish, and nothing hits the spot like a pathetic worm fighting for its life.”

            “Shawna, you're ahead of schedule. I still have to get through the rest of the tutorial,” Javi chided in a hushed tone. He flailed about within her grip, but whether or not he was performing didn't impact his effort's effectiveness. “And you're supposed to step on me. Melanie’s the one you're eating. She's in the Vore Suit with the skeleton decals.”

            “Remember a horror movie where the monster heeds her victim's pleas? Because I don't.” Shawna opened her mouth and rolled out the pink carpet. A wall of spit popped as her lips parted, spritzing Javi in viscous foreboding. Her plastic vampire fangs stood on either side, embodying the gate posts to Hell, as her warm, dank breath washed over the tiny man. It reeked of kimchi and Korean barbecue. 

            Ignoring the tiny's protests, Shawna tossed Javi onto her tongue and pulled him into her maw. Her lips sealed behind his head, cutting him off from the light before smashing him into the roof of her mouth. Her tongue molded around Javi's petite form, drenching him in saliva as she sucked on him. She grinded his face and chest against her hard palate while his lower half kicked uselessly against her soft palate. In a different context, Javi might have enjoyed the roughhousing, but his thoughts were preoccupied with getting his game back on track.

            She's going to spit me out eventually, he thought, his mouth shut tight to keep from drowning on the spit pooling around him. I don't see her holding me here like Jackie does with Pierce, especially if she still intends to swallow Melanie. Best case scenario: she prepped a way for me to “escape” her grip, and we can proceed as planned from there. Worst case scenario: she captures me now, and I guess Sam will have to complete the tutorial. Javi made the mistake of sighing, letting a mouthful of saliva rush in. Fuck! Sam's heard me go through it enough times now. They can pick up the torch in my stead.

            Shawna lowered her tongue and flung Javi forward into the backside of her incisors, so that he was sitting on her gumline along the floor of her mouth. Her tongue pounded into him, the tip assaulting his face and pushing his head into the enamel wall behind him. The rest of her tongue filled his lap like a Great Dane fresh out of the bath. His costume was soaked; his hair was sopping wet. Unlike the water repellant Vore Suit, Javi’s attire would take hours to air dry. He doubted the chances of finding a stray hairdryer nearby he could borrow.

            With a flick of the tongue, Shawna tossed Javi back onto the thick, tensile muscle, pointed face first towards the black pit of her throat. The dark abyss encroached further as Javi slid towards it, Shawna tilting her head ever so slightly up.

            “Very funny, Shawna. You can spit me out now.” But Javi only felt himself slide closer to the pit. “I’m serious. I don’t have a suit on, remember?” Her head continued tilting. “Shawna! Enough joking around! This isn’t funny!” Her uvula hung directly above his neck, like a guillotine primed and ready to let heads roll. “Don’t swallow! Please! You’re scaring the shit out of me! Ok?! Is that what you want?! Don’t fucking swallow me!”

            Gulp!

            Javi felt the force of a vacuum pull his body headfirst into the darkness. Shawna’s esophagus wrapped tightly around him, yanking him down into the depths in the worst hug Javi’s ever received. Her heartbeat pelted him from all around as he descended past her chest, but it couldn’t compare to his own pulse ringing in his ear.

            Javi could hardly breathe. He couldn't see anything but the void stretching out before him. Despite finding himself inside another person, Javi never felt more isolated, cut off from the rest of the world and all he loved. The splurching of Shawna’s insides popped in his ears. Mucus coated him and eased his descent into darkness. 

            “Shawna! What the fuck?” There was no telling if the woman could hear him. His words were barely audible through the sudden onslaught of tears. As he quickly approached an excruciating death, Javi raced for alternatives. She's going to throw me up. There will be a suit waiting for me in her stomach. She'll pull some magic trick and get me out of here. This is a fucking nightmare, and I'll wake up once I hit the bottom. “Get me out of here! I don't want to die!”

            Javi's thoughts turned to his friends and family: to Pierce, to Heather, to Jackie, to his parents. He tried to remember his final moments with each of them, never expecting this to be the last time he'd see them. He wondered how Pierce and Jackie would fare without him. He hoped Heather had forgiven herself for that time in her apartment. She had been on edge around him ever since over something so trivial. He pondered how his parents would react to his passing, eaten by the nice girl next door who used to babysit him.

            Javi approached the final sphincter, pushing through it into the deadly chamber. He closed his eyes and prayed for a miracle, his convictions set on his inevitable demise. With a plop, he fell out from the esophagus, and with a splash, he fell into the gastric pool awaiting him.

            Upon landing, Javi was submerged in stomach acid, touching down on the sinewy floor below. Once he got his bearings, he propelled himself upwards and surfaced, gasping for air. The world around him reeked of sulfur and Korean spices, and only a faint bit of light traveled through Shawna’s flesh far enough to reach her stomach, enough for Javi to see himself within the darkness. He examined his arms, expecting to see splotch marks or his fingers melting off. 

            But he was fine. There were no signs of injury. Javi felt no pain at all. The water was hot, but that was it. Aside from the awful stench, Shawna’s stomach felt no different than a hot tub.

Javi glanced at the smartwatch showing his numbers slowly dropping to normal, and it all dawned on him.

            After the runaway success of the Vore Suit, Beanstalk Co. diversified their product line by investing in several projects geared towards mixed-size couples. But their ultimate goal was to create a method of “suitless voring,” to allow a big to devour their partner both safely and au natural, the unachievable dream for many vore enthusiasts. Three years ago, the company achieved the unthinkable in the form of the Digestion Stopper.

            The Digestion Stopper was a powerful antacid that temporarily neutralized the corrosive elements of stomach acid, making the digestive fluids as clean and safe as drinking water. The effect lasted over an hour and came with no significant side effects to users between the ages of eighteen and sixty-five. However, given the high potential for accidental misuse, the Vore Drug, as it is colloquially known, was not made available for over-the-counter sale. 

            Whereas a Vore Suit could survive a full tour, if necessary, the Vore Drug failed to protect the tiny in several life-threatening scenarios. If a big passed out or otherwise lost consciousness, the tiny inside them would have no means of escaping unaided, dooming them once the effects of the drug wore off. The big may have trouble inducing vomiting and lack the Beanstalk patented medication to support the retching process on hand. A big may carelessly swallow the tiny too soon or too late for the drug to take effect, or simply leave them in their stomach for too long. Or in a more grisly scenario, the big may lie about taking the drug to trick their prey into walking into their own demise.

            To avoid such situations and the bad publicity and lawsuits that follow, Beanstalk Co. only offers the drug in highly supervised environments commonly referred to as Vore Hotels. In a Vore Hotel, a big and tiny (party size may vary) sign up for an hour slot in a private suite. The big is administered the Vore Drug and accompanied until the medicine has been digested. The tiny is equipped with a smartwatch that tracks their vital signs; if the watch is removed or reads irregular signs, a Beanstalk staffer immediately intercedes and ensures the safe removal of the tiny. Reading and interpreting the numbers accurately in the heat of the moment required extensive training, as heart rates tended to spike in the esophagus whether or not the tiny was enjoying themself. While a Vore Hotel, with locations all across the country, lacks the privacy provided by a Vore Suit and is considerably more expensive than renting or purchasing a suit, vore enthusiasts swear by the incomparable levels of intimacy suitless voring provides.

            Inside Shawna’s stomach, Javi burst into laughter. Adrenaline surged as relief washed his stress away, sending him into a state of blissful shock. All he could do was laugh.

            Of course, Shawna would never hurt me. I can’t believe I fell for it. It was a prank to scare me. Tonight is Halloween. I bet Melanie is on it. She gave me this watch. It’s not an exercise watch, it’s a monitor. That employee behind the curtain must be supervising us. Melanie struck a deal with them and helped Shawna prank me. I can’t believe I fell for it. Thoughts fired off at a mile a minute, Javi overwhelmed by the sudden calm. They turned my escape room into a Vore Hotel. I can’t believe I fell for it.

            As the high wore down, Javi’s laughter regressed into sobbing. His thoughts slowed down as the scars of fear returned. He was alone save for Shawna’s half-digested dinner floating aimlessly in the pool. The stench continued to assault his senses, making breathing ever harder between tearful gasps.

            Once he got the tears out of his system, the shock began to wear off, and reality began to set in. Javi felt Shawna’s footsteps reverberate throughout her body, sending ripples through her gastric acid. As she walked, the pool swished and splashed, currents crashing to the rise and fall of her gait. He heard the booming from the floorboard. He heard her taunting the other tinies, but didn't listen to what she actually said. He leaned back against the wet, wrinkled wall of tissue and waited until it was over, all alone and left to his thoughts. It was all he could do.

…

            “Mmph! Ah!” Lynn finally broke through her friend's ironclad grip, poking her little head between the gigantic fingers. “Heather, where do you think you're taking me?”

            Heather was surprised to see Lynn squeeze through, but opened her palm to allow her to sit more comfortably. “There's someone I want you to meet.” Lynn chose to stand, hands at her hips and foot tapping into Heather's skin impatiently. 

            “This person better be important to rip me away from Alena. I was about to get her to go all out on the dance floor.”

            Heather waded through the crowd towards the concessions stand, most people moving out of her way given the height difference. “He is. Trust me, I've seen Alena dance and wouldn't want you to miss that for the world.” While she walked, Heather kept an eye out for the woman in pure white, praying she'd leave after accosting Alena.

            The concession stand was several rectangular banquet tables placed together, covered from end to end in hors d’oeuvres, Halloween themed treats, and a variety of non-alcoholic beverages. Bordering the snacks for bigs, paths were painted onto the table cover for tinies to walk around on, allowing them to grab from the tiny-scaled stands set up all across the table. A grand punch bowl sat in the center with a tall diving board suspended over it. As had become a college tradition, guests who brought their bathing suits used the punch bowl as a pool, swimming laps in the saccharine drink and tossing a miniature beach ball around. There were three security guards stationed around the length of the concessions stand, with one dedicated to the punch bowl, ensuring no one poured an unwanted garnish into their cup.

            Heather reached the table and set Lynn down near a huge plate of deviled eggs. Standing at a nearby salad bar, tossing meager shreds of lettuce and broccoli buds onto a plate, was a man in a sweater and khakis. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying the veil of tattoos covering his arms and leading up through his chest to scrawl the entire width of his neck. The man was balding at the top and wore thin, wire frame glasses, but a youthful aura betrayed his actual age.

            “Lynn, this is Dr. Melvin Adams. He's been helping me quit smoking. Hi, Doc!”

            Melvin casually raised his hand to Heather to greet her and then held it out to Lynn. “Pleasure to meet you. You must be the ‘Lynn Richards’ I've heard so much about.”

            Against her better judgment, Lynn shook the doctor’s hand and then turned to her friend towering over them. “Heather, why are you introducing me to your therapist?”

            “My apologies,” Melvin said. “When Heather mentioned knowing you in one of our sessions, I requested she introduce us. You're quite the fascinating character from what my colleagues, your professors, have said about you.”

            “Yeah, yeah. Save your pitch. I've heard them all before.” Lynn cupped her hands together and pouted, waving them around in an exaggerated show of begging. “‘Mr. and Mrs. Richards, your daughters are a medical marvel! A never before seen, once in a millennia occurrence! You owe the scientific community the chance to research them. Think of how it will benefit generations to come. Please let us treat them like lab rats to harvest all their precious data.’ Pass.”

            “I imagine every psychologist and physician the world over lunged at the chance to study the only known case of mixed-size twins, but I assure you that's not what I'm after. I want to know more about you, Lynn. Your character. Specifically, your boundless self-esteem.”

            Lynn brushed her hair off her shoulder flippantly. “Looking to use me as a role model for your patients? Wouldn't such unattainable aspirations only bury them further in depression?”

            “That's exactly what I'm talking about. Confidence is in short supply among people your age, those our size especially. And yet, you overflow with it, idolizing yourself with wanton abandon. What's your secret? Where does this lavish abundance of self-love stem from?”

            Lynn spread her arms out. Her black dress wrapped itself graciously around her curves, accentuating her splendid figure. “Observe, doctor. Gaze upon me. Let the image of perfection standing before you answer your silly questions.”

            Melvin chuckled. “Surely there's more to it than looks. Otherwise, your sister would share your haughty demeanor.”

            Lynn's hands returned to her hips. She jutted her chin out and huffed. “Is my striking appearance all you see? It's overwhelming, sure, but I'd expect a man who studies the mind to know how to peer beyond the surface.” While the two tinies chatted, Heather grabbed a deviled egg to snack on. She held her free hand under it to make sure she didn't spill any on the people beneath her. “Though I see the resemblance, I am not Jackie, and she is not me. I am without equal, thus I would be foolish not to believe in myself.”

            Melvin nodded. The rumors didn't do her justice. “Do you ever doubt yourself?”

            “Not even once.”

            “And you don't find bigs intimidating?”

            Lynn shrugged. “Not at all. Why should I? People are people.”

            Melvin rubbed his chin in contemplation. “So, you must be comfortable with your size. But doesn't your shortened stature interfere with your perfect image?” Lynn cocked her head. She didn't understand the question. “What I mean is, you think yourself the best there ever was, but would you not be better were you your sister’s height? More capable? Less dependent on the whims of giants?”

            “Odd of you to assume I'm at their whims and they aren't at mine,” she retorted, not missing a beat. “I see your point, but I disagree with your reasoning. Sure, bigs are physically stronger than us, but being small has its perks too. We have a substantially lesser cost of living. We can fit almost anywhere. Our food is healthier and tastes better. People offer to carry us around at no expense. And I couldn't have nearly as much fun with my girlfriend were I as tall as her.” Heather went in for another deviled egg. Whoever made them subbed horseradish for Dijon mustard which blended perfectly with the mayo, egg yolk, and paprika. While the tinies continued conversing, the heiress scarfed the second egg down and considered nabbing a third, but one of the security guards shot her a look, like he knew she was hogging the eggs. “Like I said, people are people. And I’m just as amazing at any size.”

            “Truly remarkable,” Melvin concluded. “While I assist my fair share of bigs, most of the students I see to are tinies insecure regarding their place in life. I’m currently researching methods of curtailing the anxiety epidemic amongst today’s youth. You wouldn’t know it, Lynn, but many of your peers feel inadequate standing on the shoulders of giants, in addition to all the other stressors a college student faces. I’d appreciate you stopping by my office to chat more in your free time. Not to study you or experiment on you. Just chat about yourself and how you fly in the face of self-doubt.”

            “And what do I get out of this?” Lynn asked, checking her nails, wondering why she was still talking to this man and not dancing with Alena. “It’s not my job to make people feel better about themselves. Anyone smart enough to appreciate my advice doesn’t need it. And ultimately, they aren’t me, so you can’t expect them to love themselves like I do. That’s setting the bar too high, and you’ll just be wasting both our time. Pass.”

            “Your answer doesn’t surprise me in the least. Still, it was worth a shot.” Melvin pulled a business card from his khaki’s pocket and handed it to Lynn. “If you ever change your mind, or just need to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out.” Melvin waved and bid the two ladies farewell, walking over to a buffet table serving various pasta dishes.

            Lynn turned to Heather, craning her neck to look her friend in the eyes. “Alright. Now that that’s over with, take me back to Alena.” She stretched her arms upwards towards the giant woman and hopped on her toes, gesturing for Heather to pick her up.

            “Um.” Heather glanced around the ballroom in search of the woman in white, spotting no signs of the devil in angel’s garb. Lynn and Doc were talking for a while. Maybe Mariah’s left by now.

            “Hello there, Heather. Long time no see.” Heather felt ice run down the back of her neck. The stone-hearted woman stood behind her, waiting for Heather to return the greeting.

            “Hey, Mariah.” Heather turned around, putting zero effort in hiding her scowl. “Here to ruin everyone’s night?” The heiress was careful not to mention Alena’s name. Lynn stood at her side on the table, and if the little lady found out Mariah was her girlfriend’s sister, it would surely spell disaster.

            “Come now, Heather. This animosity is unbecoming someone of your stature. A Suzuran ought to know how important maintaining connections is.” Mariah looked Heather over, silently judging how showy her dress was. And that hair. “At least half of you has a sense of style. Black looks good on you; I don’t understand why you don’t stick with your natural hair color.”

            “This ain’t my natural color. It’s dyed the same shade.” A technicality she normally wouldn’t bother addressing, but she hated receiving any modicum of approval from Alena’s family.

            “You know what they say about the devil and details.” Mariah glanced down at the tiny on the table. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, or have you lost all sense of decorum in your time away from Japan?”

            Heather rolled her eyes and gestured her hand towards Lynn. “Mariah, this is Lynn. Lynn, this is Mariah. I knew Mariah growing up. Our families are on good terms.”

            Heather stretched the truth to keep Alena out of this. The Suzurans were mostly indifferent to the Washingtons, knowing Alena as a close friend of Heather’s but having no interest in the other family members. The Washingtons, on the other hand, pined for the status and wealth close ties to the Suzurans could provide. Heather once joked that she was the only woman Alena’s zealous mother would tolerate her daughter marrying. Once she got over how flustered the thought made her, Alena explained her mother was too steadfast in her beliefs to be swayed by even all the riches in the world. “But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction.”

            Mariah knelt to get closer to eye level and waved to the tiny on the table, a warm smile etched across her cheeks. “Pleasure to meet you, Lynn. Have you known Heather long?”

            “Since the start of the semester. We have some classes together.” Lynn met Mariah's welcoming tone. It was obvious Heather had beef with her, but given the lack of specifics, Lynn thought it best to approach neutrally.

            “How delightful. You have a good eye for friends. Heather is as loyal as they come.” Mariah stood straight and prepared to depart. “I best be going now. Don't party too hard, you two.” Heather didn't humor her with a response, just glaring at her as she turned to leave.

            “Is there anyone else you want me to meet, or will you finally return me to Alena?” Lynn asked all too loudly.

            Mariah stopped in her tracks, her interest piqued. She turned back towards the tiny on the table. “I'm sorry, did I hear you mention Alena? Do you know my sister too?”

            Heather's eyes went wide, darting between Mariah and Lynn. She rushed to formulate a plan of action, a way to prevent the inevitable. She thought to grab Lynn and get her the hell out of there, but it was too late. Mariah would know something’s up. Heather stood frozen, at a loss as to what could be done.

            “Alena's your sister?” Lynn asked innocently. “I didn't know she had a sister. I'm her girlfriend!”

            The music stopped. An eerie silence blanketed the ballroom as the DJ switched tracks. Mariah's warm smile rotted into a stern frown. Staring at Lynn, she threw up in her mouth, swallowing the burning bile before speaking.

            “Excuse me?”

            “I'm your sister’s girlfriend. We've been dating for over a month now. I'm surprised she hasn't told you. Most women I've been with are bragging about me before we've finished the first date.”

            Mariah stepped back. She had to fight from passing out. “You two have been … dating … for over a month?” She wasn't asking Lynn. She was processing the horrid thought, attempting to comprehend the absurdity of the statement. For Alena to have fallen so far as to … “I must be going.”

            “Wait,” Lynn called out, “you don't want to talk? We just met. I'm sure you have plenty of stories growing up together.” Lynn's excitement renewed at meeting her partner's family. She wanted to impress upon Alena's sister, bask in her familial affection and well wishes, to take the first step into joining the family, but Mariah ignored her and walked away, clutching at her forehead as she fought off the oncoming nausea.

            “That was weird. What's her deal?” Lynn turned to Heather, expecting an answer, but she saw the giant woman mashing keys on her phone.

            She found out. Lynn read the message off Heather's screen, sent to Alena. Heather held her phone at her hip in an attempt at being discreet, not factoring in that the table put her friend at eye level with it. Once she was done, Heather slipped her phone away and placed her open palm on the table.

            “Don't mind her. She's always been off-kilter. Let's get you back to Alena.” Heather tried offering Lynn a smile, but the tiny saw through it. She was hiding something from her, they both were, and Lynn hated being kept in the dark.

            Without a word, Lynn stepped onto Heather's palm, her gaze pointed downwards as wandering thoughts played out in her head. Heather noticed her friend's sudden lack of enthusiasm, but didn't pay heed to it, distracted by how Alena would react to the bad news. Tension filled the air as Heather lifted Lynn off the table and navigated the dance floor to return to Alena.

            It didn't take long to find her standing at one end of the dance floor, reading off her phone with a furrowed brow. As soon as Heather got close enough, she slipped it away and feigned a smile. “There you guys are. What took you so long?”

            “Sorry. My fault.” Heather held Lynn up to Alena for her to take. “I won't interrupt you guys again for the rest of the night. You have my word.” Alena chuckled and held her hand flat beside Heather's, bridging the gap for Lynn to walk over. But the tiny didn't move, boring a hole through Alena's palm with her gaze.

            “What did she find out?” Lynn asked. Her voice barely registered over the blaring music.

            “What was that?” Alena stepped closer, miffed Lynn wasn't back in her possession yet. She almost wanted to grab her from Heather, but she resisted the urge out of consideration for her date.

            Lynn looked Alena in the eye, a scowl forming at her lips. “‘She found out’? What did she find out? I'm guessing ‘she’ is the sister you never bothered telling me you had.” Realization dawned on Alena's face as she lowered her hand.

            “Hold on,” Heather interrupted. “Did you read the texts off my phone?”

            “It's hard not to when your screen is the size of a billboard. But that's beside the point. What did she find out, Alena?” Lynn's hair blew back as gusts of wind pelted her. Alena was breathing heavy. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

            “Lynn, I can explain.” Not that she wanted to. Alena had been dreading this moment since they started dating, and she would have preferred bringing it up on her own terms, but life has a habit of forcing upon oneself the moments most would rather put off forever. “My family, my mom and sister, they're very, um, traditional.” Her earlier encounter with Mariah left her rattled, and knowing her secret was out ate away at her composure. 

            “Traditional is being generous,” Heather butted in. “Bigoted would be more accurate. Alena's family belongs to an ultra-Orthodox church and are very entrenched in their beliefs. They don't like her dating women, and they can't fathom her dating a tiny.”

            Lynn whipped her head between the women. “Is that what your sister found out? That we're dating?” Her jaw clenched. “Was that supposed to be a secret?”

            “You don’t understand,” Heather continued. “Alena can’t be open about your relationship around them. In their eyes, it’s no different than her dating a dog. I’ve seen her mom blow a gasket over her wearing open-toed shoes to Sunday mass; I can’t even imagine how she’ll react to this.”

            “Why are you telling me all this? And why am I only hearing about it now? Well, Alena? How long did you plan to keep us, to keep me, under wraps?” Tears welled in Lynn’s eyes. Her girlfriend was left speechless, gasping for the right words to calm her. “Fucking talk to me, Alena! Are you ashamed of me?”

            “No! God, no!” Alena didn’t know what to do. She dreaded this moment, feared it would play out exactly as it was.

            “So, what am I to you?! A guilty pleasure? A doll to play with when no one’s looking?”

            “It’s not like that. Lynn, I love you.”

            “Not enough to tell your own sister. Not enough to be honest with me. Apparently, you only love me when it's convenient for you.”

            “Lynn, you're overreacting,” Heather said, keeping her hand steady despite her building frustration. “You don't realize how hard Alena has it.”

            “Stay out of this!” Tears ran down Lynn's cheeks, smearing her makeup. “You don't realize how embarrassing this is for me.”

            “Well, I'm sorry your fragile ego can't handle the fact that Alena can't declare her love for you from the fucking rooftops! She can't. Her mom has made her life miserable enough, and she doesn't need any more stokes to fuel the fire. Get over yourself.”

            “Heather, stop it!” Alena screamed, losing what little control she never even had over the situation. “I'm sorry, Lynn. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt-”

            “No, don't roll over for her,” Heather interjected. Her mouth was dry and her gums ached. For the first time in over a week, she craved a smoke. “It's high time she learned she isn't the center of the universe.”

            “Quit talking about me like I'm a child!”

            “Then quit acting like one!” Heather shouted into her hand. Lynn clutched her ears and hunched over, her knees falling to the skin of Heather's palm. Heather blinked and realized her mistake. “Shit. Lynn, I didn't mean-”

            “Put me down!” Lynn yelled louder than she needed to. With her ears ringing, she barely heard her own voice, and she couldn't tell the music died down to transition to the next track. “Put me down!”

            “I can't put you down here. You'll get hurt.” Heather glanced around the dance floor. It was then she realized how big a scene the three women were making. No one nearby was dancing. The crowds had drifted a safe distance away from their spat, watching the drama unfold with uncomfortable, blank expressions. Alena stood frozen with tears running down her face. Her hands covered her mouth as if she had been the one screaming at the tiny.

            “Do it, or I'll jump!” Lynn stood up straight, arms taut at her sides, appearing as defiant as she could with snot leaking from her nose.

            Heather snapped. She curled her fingers into a fist and pinned Lynn to her palm. Then, she trudged off the dance floor over to the nearest wall, crouched down, held her hand over the tiny-designated walkway, and dropped the little woman half a foot onto the ground.

            Lynn landed with a thud, scraping her arm as she braced herself. She scuffed her dress, and a tear formed in her skirt where her knee made contact with the floor. Heather watched the tiny stumble to her feet, immediately regretting her rash act of carelessness.

            Alena rushed over as quick as her heels would take her. By the time she reached the wall, her girlfriend was already storming off. “Lynn, wait!”

            “Leave me alone!” Lynn didn’t get far before tripping, faceplanting into the carpet and staining it with her tears. A tiny passing by offered to help her up, but she pushed him away and continued running to the exit.

            Heather stood up and stretched an arm out towards Alena, wanting to console her. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to-”

            “Shut up!” Alena smacked her friend’s hand away. “You ruined everything!” She ran off in the other direction, disappearing into the crowd of onlookers. Heather was left all alone, wallowing in self-loathing and feeling like absolute shit.