Rebecca's thunderous footfall made Troy stagger. He, Thomas, and Frank fled like madmen from her descending heel. Petri, Anton, and Bonnie weren’t so lucky. They vanished under her sole, and bits of dark Scottish soil went flying. 

Troy reflected, as he ran, that he *was* actually getting a little bit better at this.

But that’s because there was plenty of motivation. Rebecca was using her ring to sustain the unfortunates who ended up beneath her bare feet, but it still stung like hell. And getting stomped by a giant sassy English black woman was very claustrophobic. At 120’ tall she buried them completely underfoot, and left depressions more than two feet deep. Whenever she withdrew, people were depressed into the black loam at the bottom of her colossal footprint. Then they had to pull themselves out. 

Everyone was extremely dirty. 

And that’s if they were lucky. If they were *un*lucky they stuck to the bottom of her foot for a second or two as she lifted off. Then they’d peel off and fall, anywhere from ten to thirty feet. Like cartoons. And *that* hurt. 

If they were *SUPER* unlucky, which only poor Anton had been so far, they’d remain stuck to her sole when she brought her foot back down. She’d felt it the one time it happened, and lifted her foot up to peel him off and set him down. But the merry twinkle in her eye at his misfortune was hard to miss.

Stupid Anton. 

He really needed to stop looking. Looking was what killed you. Rebecca wore a thigh-length miniskirt with frilly ruffles. If you were anywhere close to her it was impossible *not* to look up her skirt if you looked at her at all. Then you inevitably saw the tiny little string-thong, with her vagina peeking out around the edges. That made you freeze. And an instant later all you could see was the underside of her foot coming down on you. 

Peripheral vision. That was the name of the game. 

The ladies all had different attitudes about stomping practice. Paige rolled her eyes sarcastically and treated it like a video game. Hilde furrowed her brow and concentrated very hard, like she was being tested. The Lady was imperious and stoic. Her personal flavor of foot-crushing tiny men involved ballroom dance steps. 

But Rebecca was just...amused. She made it sexy. She propped her fists on her hips, smirked, raised her eyebrows, and occasionally threw out witty one liners to mess with her victims minds. 

‘Havin a laugh down there are we Thomas?’ She called down.

'NOPE!!!’ Thomas shouted over his shoulder, breaking left and rolling frantically. Her descending foot missed him by inches. 

‘Aww, I must be losing my touch,’ Rebecca pouted and let him go, turning a slow circle while her victims fled to the periphery of the depression between the two hills. It wasn’t illegal to run up the hills, but it was a bad idea. Running uphill made one slow and easy to catch. Or to sit on. 

Rebecca had a substantial rear and a very tiny thong. Getting butt-crushed by her would hurt, and she knew it.

‘What about you Anton? Fancy another peek?’ The titaness spun with a grin, stepping toward Anton as he finished pulling himself out of her footprint to take off running. 

His eyes got reeeeally wide as she moved in, following her bare black legs all the way up to the thin black string which covered the trimmed fleshy lips of-


Troy winced. 

He took a moment to catch his breath, wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand. This was a serious workout. Frank broke right suddenly, sprinting away from him. Troy reflexively turned-

-and her shadow fell over him. 

Time slowed as his stupid male brain recognized what had just happened. Rebecca had stomped on Anton, then deceptively jumped back to lift her legs and land on her rear. Aiming, of course, for any idiot who decided to pause and take a breather. 

And he happened to be that idiot. 

Frank wasn’t that idiot at all. Frank almost never got crushed, unless the woman made a dedicated effort to hunt him down. And only the Lady had really cared to do that, just to make sure all the pain and humiliation she doled out was evenly distributed. 

She was magnanimous that way. 

Now here he was, with this enormous black ghetto booty falling onto him in slow motion, a thick string running like floss between her ample cheeks and over the fleshy lips of her-

Troy cursed himself, and realized that he actually WAS that idiot. So he stood tall, squeezed his eyes shut, and made a stupid face. There wasn’t time for anything else. 


Rebecca yelped in surprise. It took Troy a moment to recognize he hadn’t been crushed. He was still standing, and it was pitch black, and there was flesh ALL around him. It was vaguely damp and slippery, and he was-

Rebecca picked herself up. 

The walls of Troy’s dark prison clenched reflexively, and his first terrified thought was that he was super glad Mary had taken the car down into town to buy food for the evening.

At the edge of the field Amanda sipped her beer and whooped. 


Rebecca blinked in embarrassment, the way colossal S&M goddesses do when they accidentally land on another woman’s boyfriend and get him stuck up their vaginas. She fished around under her skirt, took his feet in two fingers, and gingerly pulled him out to hoist him upside down in front of her face. Troy blinked in shock, disoriented by the rapid movement. 

Rebecca gave him a very dry look. 

‘Got some designs on me, do we Troy?’ 

Troy twisted as the blood rushed to his head, wiping her wetness off his face.

‘ACCIDENT’ he shouted. 

Sitting at the edge of the field, Hilde squealed in embarrassed excitement and smacked Amanda’s arm. ‘Ohhh...we should save him. I like Troy.’

The men below, plus Bonnie, all struggled to catch their breath. Most looked stunned and on the verge of laughter. A handful looked concerned.

‘You call goin up my fanny an accident?’ Rebecca put a fist on her hip and looked annoyed.

'Well-’ Troy coughed, looking back into her enormous brown eyes. He had embarrassed her. He needed to diffuse the situation. 'It’s your trick, you tell me what it's called.'

Rebecca bit back her retort when she heard laughter from the sidelines. She scoffed, dropped him to the ground, stomped on him, and ground her foot. Mercifully. 

'I call it the hammer and nail, Mister Cheek.' 

She lifted her foot off of him and sneered. 'And there's your entrance fee. You'd better be out of my footprint by the time I get back, or I'll have a rate hike.'

She stormed off after the other men, who scattered like pigeons before a semi truck.

Troy pulled himself out of the man-shaped depression he'd made in the dirt and set about taking her advice. 

'Another week of this and they'll be ready,' Mary muttered, sitting in the car next to the Lady and peering into her mirror. 'They're confident enough to continue when I'm not there.'

'You're not….upset about what just happened to Troy?' The Lady asked. 

'Nah, that was an accident. I'll probably act jealous later to keep him on the straight and narrow, but I know he's loyal.'

The Lady gave her an odd half-smile. 'You are a unique woman, Miss Parker.'

'What I am is a concerned woman right now. We need to prepare.'

'For what?' 

'Reprisal.' Mary grimaced. 'We just humiliated them. They can't let that slide, or we might grow spines. They know more mercenaries will just get demolished, so they'll send people with powers next. Probably assassins who can counter my advantage. I need to figure out what form it will take and set a trap to mitigate the damage. This will get worse before it gets better. Is your resolve firm?'

The Lady nodded grimly. 'What do you propose?'

'Them.' Mary nodded to the mirror. 'That's why we're out here. I have to assume there's a spy in your camp, so the court can't know. These ladies are our secret weapon.' 

When Amanda finally relieved Rebecca, she had a gamey and amused aire about her. The men below discovered, to their detriment, that she had exceeded Rebecca in the shock department. 

She wasn't wearing knickers at all, and had apparently waxed. 

As they scattered to await the order to start, she struck a gymnasts pose and broadcast mentally down to all of them. 

*Gentlemen! Let's make this interesting, shall we? If you stare I’ll stomp you. If you stare twice, I'll drop my duff on you. If you stare three times, you go up my bum until practice ends to pad my landings. And if any of you decide to pull a ‘popsicle stick’ on me, like Troy did, I'm just leaving you in there. Clear?* They responded by running. 

Amanda had changed, Troy thought. 

He couldn't determine why or how, but she was more brazen today. Troy projected to Jeremy as they broke wide to get away from the ‘doom zone’. Amanda went after Bonnie first, of course. Bonnie had done some very raunchy things to her teammates not long ago, and the other girls had resolved to curtail her bullying by responding in kind. 

*What the hell happened?* 

Jeremy moved to isolate himself, so as not to present a tempting target. He focused as Amanda’s foot crushed Bonnie, then flicked her up high into the air. The redhead howled in panic as she flew end over end before being into Amanda’s waiting fist. 

*What do you mean?*

*She’s got more brass today than a Turkish bazaar.* 

THERE it was. A sideways glance. A look. Amanda flashed Jeremy an evil smile before spinning and cartwheeling after Petro, who dodged her acrobatic leap and two-footed drop with a sideways roll which would have done a pro football player proud. 

*Well, she’s really um-*



*She’s showing off for YOU!*

Amanda hadn’t let go of Bonnie yet. She kept her in her fist as she spun to dart after Michael and Frank, who had foolishly decided to flee too close to one another. A backflip, a hand spring, and Frank was caught beneath her descending thigh. Michael looked like he would make it for a split second...before she fell backward to catch him behind her shoulder blades. Amanda laughed and did a ‘dirt angel’ in the sod. 

*No she’s not-*


The giantess performed a kip up, leapt in place, and threw Bonnie to the ground beneath her falling body. She sank into the splits and smashed the tiny redhead flat beneath her descending pelvis, leaving no chance for her to recover or dodge. Or even ready herself. The impact was earth shaking. Troy winced. He wasn’t the only one. 

*Looks like she wants revenge on Bonnie to me.* Jeremy thought back quickly. 

Amanda shifted to get Bonnie properly wedged into her butt crack, then rose to her feet with muscular grace. She looked around gamely and brought her heels together, arching her back to squeeze her glutes while deciding who to run down and destroy next. Her eyes fell on Jeremy and lit up. It was obvious, to Troy, that she had only gone after other people first to allay suspicions of favoritism or fraternization. He was her true target. 

*’re on your own. Sorry man.* 

Jeremy stared like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi as she came at him, crushing Petro in passing as she whirled into another somersault. Troy saw the maneuver coming. The handspring. The descending shadow of her bottom- 

Stupid Jeremy didn’t move at all.

Amanda’s naked bum destroyed him. She grunted as she landed, distributing the impact to her thighs to avoid jarring her tailbone. When she sprang back to her feet, Jeremy was simply gone. 

Troy blinked in shock. 

The smoothness of it was terrifying. Perhaps she’d shrunk him? Whatever it was, it had happened in an instant after landing. None of the other women had done anything remotely like it. 

Even Mary, sitting on the sidelines, stopped sipping her water and sat up. 

Amanda didn’t stop there. She free-flow whirled, took off after Michael, then diverted at the last second to throw herself sideways and descend on Troy like a living missile. It would have been a slide tackle for a normal sized woman. Troy jumped as she came in at him, realizing he couldn’t dodge and not wanting to be steamrolled against the furrow created by her sliding body. Her naked crotch filled his vision for a split second, powerful thighs spread, there was a moment of impact-

And then he was gone. 

Shrunk, telekinetically seized, and pulled forth in the span of a single breath. To the outside world he had simply vanished.  

Troy had gone up enough musty anal tunnels by now to realize his fate. Amanda’s life force was vibrant and electric, energized, yet somehow green and earthy. She was sustaining him. At one hundred feet tall, having shrunk him to perhaps six inches, he encountered no resistance on his telekinetic trip up Amanda’s anus. Their size difference was so great that she probably couldn’t even feel him. 

She had struck him, shrunk him, and vacuumed him up her rear like a bit of lint off a carpet. 

He also figured out Bonnie’s fate. They collided in the sweltering, slippery, pulsating blackness. Then Amanda’s whirlwind movements set them bouncing apart, and her intimate inner world became a place of trampoline-like violence. Amanda had thought about this, Troy realized. All of her antics, all the showing off, was really meant to torture Bonnie. And now him. 

But where was Jeremy? 

*Where are you!?*

*Please don’t ask.* 

Troy dug his hands into her rectal walls and pulled himself hard against the ‘webbing’, holding on for dear life as the world went upside down. 

*So she likes you.* Troy thought sourly. 

*God, this is gonna make me hurl.* 

*Are you in here too?* Another cartwheel spun the world like a roller coaster. Poor Bonnie grunted and hurtled past in the blackness as the two men telepathically yelled at one another. 

*No, I’m in the front of the bus!* 

*You suck Jeremy!* 

*How the hell do I suck!?* 

*Because I’m trapped with Bonnie, and it’s like a shitty pinball machine in here!*

*Yeah, well, it’s like a roller coaster had a baby with a sheet metal burrito in here! I can barely move! This woman has pelvic floor muscles from hell!*

*Wow, the banter between you two is hilarious.* 

Amanda’s mind voice cut in, startling them both. The world cartwheeled again, followed by violent vibrations which set their teeth on edge. Troy was dislodged from his perch and bounced between the membranous walls of her inner rectum like a ping pong ball. Amanda was clearly doing some sort of belly dancing thing now. Then a crushing SLAM brought everything to a halt as she fell onto her rear to pancake someone. 

*We’ve had enough Amanda!* Troy shot back. 

*Not yet Yankee boy, I haven’t avenged the Boston Tea Party yet. Did you boys like my magic trick?* 

*Many cool points,* Jeremy projected diplomatically. *Now let us out! I don’t want to barf in…* 

*My fanny?* Amanda’s mind voice laughed, ringing in both their heads. *Doubtful. Hey, Troy, how’s Bonnie holding up in there? I keep refusing her attempts at mental contact. Is she freaking out?* 

*She’s bouncing around making panicked noises and flailing, just like ME.* 

*Right, well, just keep an eye on her. You can be my spy on the inside. In the meantime, I’ve got two more victims to go. You’ll be out of there soon enough. And tell Bonnie I think she’s a vindictive bitch.*  

*I’m pretty sure she knows that!* Troy swallowed and clung to her inner walls with fresh strength, arresting his momentum. 

*Good, cause this is karma. And no whining. You’re the one who loves being stuffed up female rears. I’m female, and you’re up my rear, so I’m doing you a solid right now.* 

Another cartwheel, another heavy standing impact, then stillness. 

Troy huffed in exhaustion. His head was pounding. Bonnie landed somewhere nearby in the blackness, groaning with nausea. 'Who is...who is there?' 

'H-hey Bonnie' Troy called out. 'I ah...I’s over.' The world began to shift and sway. This, Troy knew, was what exaggerated female walking felt like. 

'I w-w-will...wreak...great v-vengeance upon...Amanda for..t-this indignity.' 

Troy fell onto his back and slid down into the ribbing of...something. His face hurt. 'I think...indignities are...what got you into this mess in the first place,' he huffed. 

A long pause. 

'What is your meaning?' 

'Amanda is taking vengeance on you for prior treatment,' Troy sighed, letting Amanda’s sauna-like body heat and earthy life force sink deep into his bones. 

*Here comes a little dominance gesture Troy. Sorry.* Amanda paused and lifted one leg vertically overhead as high as she could. Her flexibility was phenomenal. Her anal tunnel contracted cruelly, but Troy was too small to be crushed inside her by the move. *Let me give you a nice hard squeeze too.* 

A rumbling gurgle sounded somewhere overhead, so he took a deep breath and buried his face into the rectal wall beside him. He was a veteran at this. He knew what that meant. 

Bonnie didn’t. 

'Truly? Well I-' She started to reply just as Amanda’s fart blasted past, with a rippling contraction of anal muscles and a spike of barometric pressure. Troy projected sharply into Amanda’s mind as her fart blew past him.

*I swear if you hold it in to torture us I’ll get even. Seriously.* 

*HAHA! Hold it in?* Amanda thought back. *Ohhhh, YEAH, hey that would be really awful wouldn’t it?*


*Don’t worry, I’ll be good.* Her thoughts were mirthful. He felt her flexing her ass playfully, squishing him. *You and Bonnie are the first people I’ve ever put up there. What’s it like?*

They always asked that, Troy thought. Even though Bonnie had shoved Amanda up her OWN rear the other day, women always wanted to know what THEIR rears were like. 

*Slippery, taught, warm, humid, bouncy, pitch black, rippling, your rectum squeezes in time with your stride, it constricts and smothers us when you sit down at an angle, I can hear your heartbeat and gurgling organs, and if I go too deep your sigmoid colon smooches at me like some evil lamprey without teeth. At this size the key to survival is to wedge into the ribbing of the anal segments and hold on tight, to not come loose and get violently bounced around. Your life force is vibrant, and electric, and earthy. It sinks into my bones when I lay still, like a sauna. You’re burying me in your power.* 

Amanda was quiet for several seconds, thinking about his reply while she walked. 

*That’s a much nicer answer than I was expecting,* she projected back finally. *I need to get you out somehow. Do you want to be removed telekinetically or...shall I squat and shit you out the old fashioned way? Is that a part of your kink?*

*Sometimes, but you’re not my girl,* Troy sighed. *Just shrink me down super small, pull me out, and restore me to normal size in your hand please. That’ll get any residual...female fluids off of me.* 

*You got it. Stand-by.* 

*What about Bonnie?*

*Oh no, she gets to enjoy my ‘hospitality’ a while longer. We need to have a little mind chat.*  

*And Jeremy?* 

*Well...* Amanda focused, and Troy felt himself begin to shrink further. *I wanted to ask you about him. Has he said anything to you about me?* 

Troy blinked in the blackness. He smiled. *You fascinate him, and he fantasizes about you. But he’s had terrible luck with women, because his military career kept him moving around. He has the same kink I do, but doesn’t admit it to anyone because he’s afraid they’ll judge him negatively. He’s also nervous about seeming too eager to be your plaything because he’s afraid you’ll get weirded out.*

Amanda paused. *Hmmm...thank you. Do me a favor and keep this conversation between us?*

*No problem.*

She seized him with her mind and drew him out. 


The landing at Heathrow was wretched.

After touching down Claudia retrieved her luggage at the carousel, where she was met by a ruddy faced man wearing jeans and a leather jacket. She wore mermaid scale leggings, a blouse, and a black hoodie. She was about eight inches taller than him. The fellow greeted her with professional stoicism and a respectful nod, took her luggage, and escorted her out to the curb where they boarded a hotel shuttle. 

Claudia watched the streets of London roll past from her seat, thinking. 

Once they reached the Continental she entered without a fuss and approached the main desk. The lobby was richly appointed but antiquated; all polished hardwood and glass display cases and oiled leather. The concierge was a dignified fellow in a suit. His high cheekbones and nasal aristocratic accent seemed to suit the place perfectly.

'I have a reservation,' she said stoically.

'Of course madam. Your name?' 

'Claudia Salvatorio.' 

She had adopted Anastagios surname as her professional moniker. The concierge studied his ledger carefully. No computers here, she noticed wistfully. The Continental was always the same wherever one went. Dignified, serene, classy. A hotel for assassins. 

The first time she stayed at one she'd had major imposter syndrome, but it seemed so sexy. It still did. Nobody had ever treated her like a queen before. 

'Here we are. You are expected. Room 317.' 

She accepted her bronzed key and went to the elevator where the man from the airport waited with her luggage. Once they reached the room she invited him inside with a gesture and closed the door. It was antique, just like everything else in the hotel. 

'How was your flight?' 

It was the first thing he'd said to her since her arrival. Claudia made a disgusted sound and set her luggage down to open it. The interior was immaculate. Every item of clothing was folded and stored with uniform precision.


'I'm sorry to hear that. Will you be dining this evening?' 

'The restaurant downstairs will do. You'll be my date.'

The man accepted her declaration without comment. She drew out a dress and went to the bathroom to hang her toiletries bag. The shower turned on.

'You can begin your sitrep now to save time,' she called out as she removed her clothes. 

The little man poured a glass of spiced rum and went to lean against the wall outside the restroom. 

'You're familiar with the Avalon League?' 

'I've read the briefing.' 

'We tracked the two targets to London. They've taken shelter with the league at their country estate. A team was assembled to capture them, but they vanished. So a larger force was dispatched to raid the estate directly and force a resolution, but they were wiped out to a man.'

'Impressive,' she stepped into the shower, and hot water began rolling down her statuesque body. 'But why now? You could have hit them months ago. Are these two really so valuable?'

'I don't know ma'am. Those are just my orders. But we lost a lot of assets when the whole thing went South. Our remaining presence in England is thin. You're supposed to correct that I'm told.' 

'Oh I will,' she began shampooing her hair. 'But I'll need support. Do we have a fire team ready to back me up?' 

'And more. Isabelle and Theo will meet you at the armory.' 

Claudia paused. She had worked with those two before; a telekinetic and an air elementalist. They were powerful. And expensive. 

'Huh. I guess Lord Halifax is serious.' 


Troy emerged from morning practice utterly exhausted. The ladies were now more confident than ever in their borrowed powers, and an air of cockiness and simmering sexual humor emanated from them. There was also a definite team spirit which had formed. Even Bonnie, who had endured that morning's practice on the ground with the rest of the men, appeared to have learned humility. 

At lunchtime the class visited town to eat at a pub. It was the first time Mary had allowed the captured mercenaries out in public at full size, and all were forbidden to touch any sort of phone or computer. The place was dark, noisy, and warm thanks to its low ceiling. It reeked of hops and heat sweat and fried fish The ladies were all eager to drink, make phone calls, and check email. 

'How much longer do we have to prepare?' Troy sipped his beer and sat across from Mary in a dark booth, drumming his fingers on the polished oak table. 

'Not long. I have a premonition that a reprisal will come soon, before we’re ready. There are a handful of targets which still need to be hit before we can say we’ve forced the Lodge out of England.' Mary nursed her Guinness but didn’t drink, looking pensive. 'So I need a second opinion. Do we stay here for more training or act fast?'

'You’re asking me?' Troy looked incredulous. 

'I trust your judgment. And you’ve been on the receiving end of their training from the start. That’s a useful perspective.'

Troy sat back and thought. Mary watched him. 

'Then yes,' he said finally. 'They have what it takes. Maybe not combat skills, but everything else is there. And if they use their powers smoothly, with the help of these guys, it should be enough.'

Mary pulled out her cellphone and flipped it open. 'Then I’m sharing a Google Docs file with you.' 

'With me?' 

'Since we set up new accounts here in England I’ve been keeping mine anonymous and composing plans based on the information we’ve received so far. I have a timetable, and it requires hitting multiple spots at once. Four spots to be exact.' 

'You...want us to split up?'

'For a few days. If it isn’t coordinated, they’ll realize they’re compromised and clear out. It needs to happen in a single night. Can I rely on you to partner up and get one of them done on your own? It’s...a major ask, I know, but I can’t see any other way.' 

Troy frowned and looked at her askance. 'Okay. But why do you think I’m so valuable all of a sudden?*

'Because you’re a telepath now, just like me, and that’s a serious advantage.*

'Okay then….I’ll do it.' 

'Good. You get one girl. Which one do you want?'
Troy closed his eyes and chewed his lip. 'I can’t pick you?'

'I have my own task picked out already, and it’s a vital one.' 

'Then you decide.' 


The door to the storage garage rolled up in a clatter of steel segmenting. Claudia found exactly what she was expecting to find; a tidy room with a circle of folding tables and chairs, arms lockers along the wall, and a bunch of shady looking people drinking coffee. 

She recognized the two powered assassins at once.

Isabelle was about her age; dark haired, dark eyed, and attractive in a sinister sort of way. They both had that in common. She wore jeans, a turtleneck, and a nose ring. Her coffee cup had a picture of a cuttlefish on it with the words 'I wanna cuttle you right now' stenciled across the front.

She was also nuts. 

According to the dossier she'd read last night before bed, Isabelle had a black mark on her record. She had failed to capture Troy Denning stateside and murdered somebody in an airport before being arrested. Claudia didn't much care for that. It bespoke a lack of discipline.

Theo was an older man; slim and dark blond, with coke bottle glasses and a receding hairline. He had always been frigid with her on the occasions they'd met. That was good. It meant he was sane. Professional killers who affected a charming demeanor were always fucked up in the head. She had enjoyed teasing him on the few occasions they'd been partnered together. But he never flirted back, and it was funny how vehemently he refused to acknowledge pretty women. 

She smiled and sat down after one of the mercenaries handed her a cup of coffee.


The Eastway Credit Union was a private institution which, ostensibly, offered loans to restaurants and private schools throughout the British Isles and Benelux. It was a small credit union, as credit unions went, with a modest office building in west Liverpool. 

It was also a laundering center for the Lodge. 

Black market payments for the purchase of 'used equipment' which did not exist were the union’s primary business. The place had security. Ten armed guards, redundant cameras, and lots of robustly locked doors. Getting in with guns and hackers would have been monstrously difficult. But nobody had ever seen a power set like Mary’s, and with the magic ring on her finger allowing Rebecca to ‘borrow’ her gift, they didn’t stand a chance. 

Like Antman and the Wasp, they entered the facility in broad daylight. At three millimeters nobody noticed them slip under the crack in the main doors. Across the lobby, up the stairs, down the hall, past two doors, into the ventilation ducts, and into the security room where a single mercenary sat at a desk sipping coffee and watching monitors. 

Rebecca shrank him out of his clothes with a casual flick of her hand. 

Then she restored them both to full size, fished the tiny naked man out of his uniform, swept the pile of clothes onto the floor, dropped him on the seat, and *sat* on the chair.

Then she began fiddling with the computer.

As Troy oriented himself he considered the guard’s fate. Tiny and unnaturally dense, he was surely unharmed. But today Rebecca was wearing her practice mini-skirt with the ruffles, a stylish blouse, Clark boots, a ladies jacket...and no knickers. The poor fellow went from doing-his-job to buried-underneath-a-titanic-waxed-vagina in about eight seconds flat. 

Rebecca wasn’t even paying attention to the insect she sat on. She was too busy turning off the security cameras or pointing them at the walls.

Troy wriggled out of his clothes and quickly wrestled the mercenaries uniform on.  

*Tell me the login password and you’ll live through this. Give me sass and I’ll have a bit o’ fun with you. What’s it to be?* 

Troy felt her telepathy, projecting down to the tiny man beneath her butt. 

Once he got over his shock and processed the situation, the guard complied. 

*Smart man. I’ll let you go in a bit. In the meantime..* Rebecca slid the miniscule soldier into a tiny ‘pocket’ in the inner lining of her thong. Troy understood that some ladies thongs came with that pocket, but he never knew why. He doubted the manufacturer had intended it for this purpose, but it served remarkably well. 

Rebecca got up and nodded to Troy. He opened the door, pulled a pistol (which Jeremy had thoughtfully provided), and they crept down the hall together. 

Office to office, room to room, Rebecca peeked around corners and through cracked doors. All men. She shrank them as she saw them, and not a single one had time to so much as cry out. And why would they? She'd begun her ‘spree’ from the security room, deep inside the building. They all thought they were safe. 

Troy didn’t have to use his gun once. 

With each victim she shrank, Rebecca silently invaded their office and went to *plant* her big bare mocha bottom on the individuals chair. They were all sitting at their desks. By the time she reached them most were too stunned to make a run for it. Besides which, the fall from a chair to the floor was daunting. They had no idea the shrinking had made them supernaturally resilient, so even the quick witted ones hesitated. 

Then her ass came down, they vanished beneath her, and she began idly examining whatever it was they’d been working on. She had several thumb drives in her coat pocket, and plugged them into the computers as she went. Stealing files. Sometimes security systems and passwords stopped her.

On these occasions she telepathically interrogated whoever she was sitting on at the time. She didn’t make threats. She simply seized them with telekinesis, spread her cheeks a bit, and pressed them up through her warm pulsing asshole. Once they were securely trapped inside her, she crossed her legs as though she were holding a boardroom negotiation with invisible people and politely offered amnesty in return for information. Very prim and businesslike. The whole affair had a ‘sinister corporate takeover’ vibe which Troy found horribly arousing. 

It worked shockingly well. 

Only two men resisted, and this was how she knew who the leaders were.

By the time she came downstairs Rebecca had successfully ambushed, shrunk, and backdoored five security guards as well. The humid stygian darkness of her rectum was now a prison for at least ten tiny people. Having checked the security cameras, she knew there were two more armed guards in the lobby and three in the break room. There were also two bankers in the lobby, bringing the total number of men in that room to four. 

'You’re up' she whispered as they crouched out of sight in the stairwell. 

Troy adjusted his cap and briefly leaned around the corner to call into the lobby. ‘We have a problem sir. A key broke off in the door upstairs, I’m trying to get it open.’ 

One banker stopped typing at his computer and rose irritably, hurrying across the floor to the stairs. ‘Well did you manhandle it? Whose door is-’

He began to hike up the stairwell and found Rebecca smiling sweetly at him. 

Then he was gone. 

Troy hiked up the stairs so the sound of the banker's stride remained unbroken to anyone in the lobby who might be listening. Thirty seconds later he hustled back down the stairs and called out. 

‘Alright sir. Can anyone lend some brute force up here please!?’

A security guard broke away from his post and jogged to the stairwell. Five seconds later he reached the top and found Rebecca sprawled at the top of the stairwell on her stomach, so she couldn’t be seen by anyone below. 

He vanished too.  

At that point she rose and headed calmly downstairs. The remaining banker on the floor called out, ‘is everything alright up there!?’ as she rounded the corner.

‘Just peachy love.’ 

She winked at him...and shrank the last startled security guard in the corner. The banker leapt to his feet with a shout.


She shrank him too and hustled back past Troy onto the stairwell. Troy dropped behind a pillar facing the doors leading outside and pulled his pistol, ducking his head to obscure his face with the brim of his cap. Seconds later three armed men came rushing out of the break room into the lobby. 

‘Get down!’ Troy shouted at them. 

None of the three looked too hard at him. Or noticed that the lobby was empty. Faced with the prospect of an armed attacker outside the building, and one of their own taking cover behind a pillar, they dropped and hid behind the reception desk.

‘What’s going on!?’ one cried. 

Peeking around the corner, watching all three men hiding behind the reception desk from behind, Rebecca smirked and shrank one. 

‘THAT!’ Troy called back. ‘Rooftop, across the street!’

The two remaining men panicked and trained their pistols on the doorway, scanning frantically for a non-existent enemy. 

Rebecca shrank a second one. 

‘Jesus fuck!’ The last man dove for the hallway leading to the breakroom and scrambled around the corner. Troy frowned. Rebecca couldn’t see him there, and he had a gun. He thought quickly and popped off two shots at the ceiling. 


A long silence. Rebecca looked at him curiously, and he made a staying gesture with his hand. Then he rose from behind the pillar and walked out into the middle of the lobby, heaving a great sigh.

The last mercenary emerged from the hallway with his gun in hand, assuming the danger was over. ‘Who the hell is hitting us!?’ 

Rebecca slipped out of the stairwell and crept up behind him. 


The man turned. 


Black and white static. Thunderous footfalls. A rolling heath, obscured by the lurid green glow of night vision. Flares of washout where electric torches hit the camera. Movement in the darkness, out beyond the limits of sight.

Something colossal dropped out of the night sky to bury and crush an unwitting pair of soldiers. Two sandaled feet, side by side. The body camera turned upward as it's wearer fell onto his back in shock. Legs. Long, bare, female legs. They soared up beneath a short skirt. A woman's face peered down over the swell of a vast bosom, swaying beneath an embroidered blouse. It registered surprise, then incredulity.

'Well!?' the titaness said. 

A long pause. The colossal nightvision-blurred legs spun around suddenly and a massive bare butt surged down from on high. The viewers winced as the vague outline of a female crotch filled the screen and blacked everything out. Muffled crunching and shifting sounds were heard, along with stifled cries. Then a muffled yelp and a brief flash. A colossal clefted mass with a protruding ribbon of flesh, probably a bare vagina, receded for a split second before surging back down to black everything out-

Theo paused the video and rubbed his jaw. 

Claudia and Isabelle traded glances. Isabelle knew that Claudia was capable of similar feats, but this was the first time they had ever encountered anyone else who could do anything even remotely similar. The gathered mercenaries were silent. It was amusing how nervous they looked.

‘We can’t risk another attack on their countryside estate, especially at night,’ Theo said into the silence. ‘We have nothing to counter that power, but she won’t risk doing it in a public place.’ 

‘Yeah, um, can we go back to the part where a giant woman wearing a fucking miniskirt and no panties just sat on our guys and bounced?’ one of the mercenaries said. 


Everyone looked at Claudia as she spoke up. 

‘It’s theater. They’re trying to scare you.’ 

‘Well it’s working,’ said the soldier. ‘I’ll uphold my contract, but these aren’t the same people we’ve been sent to bag in the past. You saw the footage of the roadside.’ 

They had seen the footage. A row of trucks and civilian vehicles had been pancaked in a neat line, like some colossal woman had come thundering out of the night to play hopscotch with them. The men sitting in vehicles at the time had been instantly crushed; ground into a gory mess and pressed flat into the destroyed remains of their cars. 

‘Can you stop her from growing like that?’ Theo turned to Claudia. Everyone looked at Claudia. Her reputation was well known to them. She pursed her lips as she studied the screen. 

‘Probably, yes. I can alter the size of living things. But that’s definitely the Lady, we’ve all seen photos.’ 

‘She never did anything like that before that I’ve heard of,’ Isabelle muttered. ‘So where the hell did this come from?’ 

Claudia kept her thoughts to herself. She and the other two powered assets had been brought in to kill the Americans, not attack the Avalon League. Their arrival coincided with this sudden change. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. And they had been warned that Mary Parker, at least, was extremely powerful.

‘They hit one of our arms caches,’ another mercenary was studying his own tablet. ‘A storage unit. The men there all vanished. That means they’re armed now, and that someone told them where it was. Mind reading perhaps.’ 

‘Well shit,’ another soldier muttered. 


Thirty minutes later Rebecca was sitting at the manager's computer upstairs, picking her teeth with her tongue and tapping away at the keyboard. Authorizing wire transfers and entering passwords desperately offered up by the tangled mass of seventeen humiliated men stewing deep in the stinking sauna-like blackness of her big rear. And shimmying against the chair. Just to torture them.

'I feel like the devil,' she said philosophically.

'How's that?'

'I've got seventeen naughty souls cookin in my bum right now. Feels godlike.'

'Well, don't let it go to your head. We're on the clock.' 

'Wasn't it going to my head the point of all the training?'

Troy chewed his lip. Rebecca was normally flirty, but this was different. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying her current role. Had borrowing Mary's powers infected her with his fetish too? 

Troy shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. He had to guard the door. At least he didn’t have to shoot anyone. 

Rebecca switched to telepathy and scoffed. *Who the hell pays three hundred thousand pounds for an industrial oven? If id’a known laundering money was this easy I’d have picked a different career.*

*I’m sure they have people on the other side green lighting the transactions* Troy replied. *How are they doing?* 

*Hm? Oh, they're fine. Miserable of course. Three of the little buggers are super racist, so they’re havin a hard time coping. Makes it very satisfying to torment them.*

Troy snorted. *Racist?*

*Oh yeah. Some guys think black chicks are attractive but refuse to admit it to themselves. Only now they're all up my ass, keepin me entertained like a chain o anal beads, so…*

*Huh. How much have you transferred?*

*About eighty two million quid. The Manager's name is Hamilton Killian, and I’ve got his info. Plus I’m on his email so...I’m sure the Lodge will figure out something’s amiss by tomorrow. We’ll see how many of these wires go through by then. I’ve got all manner of charities and offshore accounts I can use.*

Troy smiled in admiration. 


Vernon Jacobs, the oldest and most experienced person in the room, had been silent all this time. A disgraced captain in his forties, he had been discharged after Desert Storm for a tragic bit of panic-induced violence against an unarmed village. He rubbed his graying goatee and finally spoke. 

‘This is a trap.’ 

Isabelle scoffed. She was of the opinion that people without powers were basically fodder and therefore should not speak at meetings. But Claudia and Theo looked over to him with interest. 

‘The theatrics, the raid on our armory, everything. They goaded us into attacking their estate. They were waiting for it so they could eliminate a large chunk of our assets in one place. They’re trying to push us out of England. They know we’re going to respond by bringing in powered assets. They’re counting on it.’

‘What do you propose?’ Claudia asked. 

‘Assuming some of our people were captured and convinced to talk, how many tempting targets are left in England?’ Vernon got up and went to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

‘We have no idea. Management keeps that information sequestered. The only people who know that are high ranking officers who handle disbursements of cash.’ Theo said. 

‘Was there a guy like that leading the attack on the estate?’ Isabelle chimed in. 

‘Of course,’ Claudia looked back at the screen. ‘And they obviously captured him if the whole thing was a trap. The Lady is known to be a telepath, so we should assume they know whatever he knew. But this isn’t how they’ve fought us in the past.’ 

'It’s Denning,' Isabelle took a bite of muffin and sighed, thumbing through camera footage on her Chromebook. 'He’s the mastermind. I wasn't expecting it the first time, but I am now.’

‘Is that the guy who rope-a-doped you at the airport?’ one of the mercenaries asked. 

Isabelle’s gaze grew murderously cold, and she turned to regard the man. The mercenary swallowed and took a step back reflexively, raising his hands. 

‘Whoa, I just meant-URGH’ The soldier's eyes bulged and he groped at his neck. An invisible force lifted him off the ground. 

‘You’re a funny guy-’ Isabelle began. 


Claudia slapped her hand against the table. Everyone turned to stare at her. Her eyes glowed faintly with a billious green light, and she grew two feet taller to loom over the other woman in the folding chair. ‘Put. Him. Down.’ 

The soldier dropped to the concrete floor and choked, drawing in ragged lungfulls of air. Isabelle set her jaw and gave the man on the floor a resentful glare. ‘Tell him to watch his mouth.’ 

Claudia turned her burning gaze back to Captain Vernon. ‘Please go on. You were saying?’ 

The captain did his best to look unfazed. ‘I’m saying rather than poke around the estate we should wait for them to hit us again. We may not have contact info for management, but they certainly know how to contact us. We need to be ready to move at a moment’s notice. Assume they’re going to hit us, we just don’t know where yet. And no matter what we do, I don’t want to go to Newark. That’s their turf. If they have someone with tactical sense running the show now they’ll have eyes and ears all over that little city. We’ll be made instantly.’ 

Theo nodded emphatically. ‘A sound notion. Fine then, we arm up and wait for the call. We can afford to give it two days I think. Is everyone agreed?’ 

Nods answered him. 


Two hours later Rebecca yawned and got up, sending her last email. She stretched and, to Troy's utter shock, farted. The eroticism of the act made him redden.

'Take that gentlemen' she taunted. *Alright loverboy, I've got em praying for air conditioning. You ready for stage two?*

*Yeah. sure to get me out fast if this doesn’t work.* 

*Psh, don't worry boy I got you. Now c'mere.* 

Rebecca flicked a finger at Troy and shrank him, holding out her hand and drawing him up into her palm telekinetically. Troy winced as the world surged into cyclopean scope before her enormous hand closed around him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

*I'm glad you enjoy this part Troy.* She brought her hand around behind herself, propping up a foot on the chair to stick her butt out and part her cheeks.

*I'd feel bad otherwise.* 

She used a finger to push him through her anus.

Being enveloped in musty blackness and smooth rubbery membrane, laced with residual traces of shit, was nothing new to Troy. But he flailed and scrambled anyway to get into character. He heard them almost immediately; muffled voices talking. Two or three older men snapping at the others. He blundered into them quite suddenly. 

‘OH SHIT!!’ 

Strong hands flailed in the blackness and grabbed him, steadying him as the world suddenly began to rock and sway. Rebecca was walking. Her glutes bunched and flexed in time with her stride. Then the juddering of stairs. 

‘It’s someone else!’ called the man holding his arm. ‘Who the hell are you!?’ 

Troy did his best to sound shocked. He paused and scrabbled at the speaker in the darkness. ‘Jesus Christ’ he panted. ‘I’m not the only one.’ 

A chorus of voices sounded around him. Angry questions. Fearful cursing. Finally a harsh older male voice cut through the others.

‘Alright shut up! Everyone remain calm, we need to think our way out of this. Did someone new just show up?’

‘Yeah, I did.’ Troy didn’t bother trying to affect a British accent. He sighed and did his best to sound tired.

‘And who the hell are you?’ 

‘I was an asset, flown out to sanction some people in Nottingham. I had a list. Four names in I ran into a woman in a cafe who did this to me. Does anyone have any water?’ Jeremy had schooled him on the lingo of his trade.

The world continued swaying. Rebecca was walking down the street now.  

The other men were silent while the leader spoke. ‘You’re American? Where were you when this happened?’ 

‘I just told you, Nottingham. The woman’s name was Hilda. She was blond, scandinavian, maybe five ten, mid twenties. She just fucking looked at me and I shrank down to this size. Then she stuck me up her fucking ass to be cruel. I don’t know how long it’s been, maybe a day? It was hard to sleep. I just got pulled out by some sort of invisible force and saw daylight for like thirty seconds. She was talking to this black woman, asked her if she wanted to ‘trade’. Now I’m here.’

‘I see. Do you have any gifts?’ the leader asked. The world shifted and dropped suddenly, and the muffled slam of a car door sounded. Then the rubbery tunnel COMPACTED as Rebecca sat in the driver’s seat. The rumble of an engine vibrated up through the fat of her large bottom, shuddering their foul prison.  

*Comfy in there?*



‘Yeah. I’m a telepath. Don’t ask my name, I’m not gonna give it to you.’ 

‘Which office were you paid out of?’ another man asked. 

Troy hesitated. This was a trick question. Jeremy had prepared him for it. ‘How the fuck should I know? I live in Tampa and have an account in Grand Cayman. Who are you people supposed to be anyway? Management?’

‘Did you hear anything else while you were with the other woman? The blond?’ the leader pressed him. ‘Any names? We need to figure out who these people are and fast.’ They began to sway slightly as the g-force of the moving vehicle shifted Rebecca’s pelvis back and forth in time with turns in the road. 

*Has any girl ever told you you've got good heft Troy?* Rebecca mentally snickered. 

*Mary always said I made her feel like she had to take a dump.*

*Yeah, well, Mary doesn't wear a buttplug into the office each day. I do.*

*Stop flirting with the guy in your ass Rebecca. I'm working here.*

*Hah! There's a phrase I never imagined I'd hear. Funny that I'm carrying the whole secret operation around inside myself.*

‘I heard Hilda call someone on the phone and tell them to inform someone called the Lady that she’d captured an assassin and was planning to bring him in for interrogation.’ 

A long pause. 

‘The Lady? Are you absolutely certain?’ 

‘That’s what she said. Look, I’m not answerable to you. If you guys are management then you’re a bunch of fucking assholes who withheld information about my targets.’

‘Listen carefully. Our superiors are not a tolerant lot. Our lives are forfeit if we can’t turn this around soon. This woman just robbed our credit union, and the only reason we aren’t suffocating to death right now is she seems to be preserving us with some sort of magic. She withdrew that power and we started suffocating a while ago, so I was forced to give her access to several sequestered accounts. I assume by this point she has drained them.’ 

*I feel SO powerful right now.*


Troy was silent for a moment. ‘Look...I don’t want to wait until we get wherever we’re going. I’m supposed to be interrogated, and I don’t wanna find out what the fuck that means. Do you have a plan?’ 

‘I’m working on one’ the leader sighed. 

‘Alright…look. I have a phone.’ 


‘I have a phone’ Troy repeated. ‘My watch, it’s a smart watch. Hilda didn’t take it from me. I haven’t used it much since I got to England, but I have an international calling plan. It doesn’t have much juice left though.’ 

‘Give it to me!’ The man fumbled in the blackness toward him. 

‘Yeah I don’t fucking think so, it’s password protected. Who the hell are you gonna call?’

*Oh hey Troy, I’ve got a raspberry coming on. Fair warning.*  

*That’s fine, Is it your first with these guys?*

*Yeah. Getting anywhere?*
*I think so. Hold it in a bit to be a bitch, I need them desperate.* 

*Hold Hah! Hahaha! Oh my God, you'll be crushed by the pressure….alright then. Pervert, I'll bet you like this.*

Rebecca’s stomach gurgled slightly, and pressure built in her pelvis. Suddenly methane seeped into the blackness of her sweltering rectal tunnel, and the air pressure became unbearable. 

‘OH FUCKIN HELL!!’ someone cried. ‘GOD DAMN IT!’ another wailed. They carried on for several long seconds.



Troy found this both awful and strangely hilarious. 

‘Hilda did this bullshit to me too!’ Troy snapped scathingly into the blackness. His eyes teared up and stung from the pressure and causticity. 

* How’s this? The lads beggin me for mercy yet?* She shifted her hips a bit and puffed her chest out heroically. 

*Perfect. Keep it up.* 

*I admire your dedication to the role, Yankee boy. Hahaha...suffer. >P*

‘Give me the watch!’ the leader snarled. ‘I can get us out of here! Just let me make a phone call and I can have a squad of men and a handful of powered assets after us in a matter of hours!’

‘How!?’ Troy shot back. ‘You don’t even know where she’s driving us!’

‘If we’re still alive it means she wants more information from us,’ the man in the darkness explained quickly. The gas was awful. He was obviously tearing up and fighting a headache from the pressure. Someone, several someone’s, started gagging.

*Alright, that’s enough.*

*You sure? I'm feeling a mite evil at the moment..*



The air pressure dropped sharply as the caustic methane vacated down and out of the dark tunnel. Several of the imprisoned men drew great lungfuls of the still-rancid air, choking and groaning in relief. The tunnel shuddered and they heard the muffled sound of Rebecca’s throaty laughter resonate through her body. 

She had a nice evil laugh, Troy thought. It sounded sinister, and it made her cheeks jiggle.

*You have a nice evil laugh*

*Aww, thanks! I've been practicing.* She squeezed her pelvic floor muscles for emphasis. *Remember that bit in Star Wars when they're in the garbage compactor on the ship?* 

‘So what!?’ Troy shot back at the manager as the walls closed in. 

‘So...I’ll tell her the location of some other assets and have a team waiting to ambush her when she arrives,’ the man coughed. 

‘How the hell does that help US!?’ Troy snarled. ‘What if they just kill her and leave us here to die!? I AM NOT DYING UP A BLACK WOMANS ASS, MAN!’ 

‘It’s the only chance we’ve got!’ 

‘I...fine. Okay, fine. Here.’ Troy pulled off the smart watch he’d set up, keyed in the unlock code, and handed it to the man in the darkness when they finally found each other. This involved a lot of slimy crawling along, grabbing fistfuls of rectal membrane and slipping over or past the writhing bodies of other men liberally coated in trace amounts of Rebecca’s waste. It was super foul. 

*I could hear that echoed in your mind Troy. Hurts my feelings a bit.*

*I'm just selling it, Rebecca.*

*You sure about that?*

*'re a thic mesmerizing goddess. If I wasn't committed to Mary and fighting the Lodge I'd love nothing more than to lose myself in your divine sexy abyss. But I sort of have a job to do here.* 

A long pause...then she mentally snerked.

*Flatterer. Fine, you're off the hook.* 

By the feeble light of the display screen, he could barely make out the man’s face framed by dark undulating walls of slippery membrane shot through with black circuit-like capillaries. It made the whole experience super eerie and horrible. The manager carefully took the watch, used his filthy sleeve to wipe scum off the tiny screen, tapped in a phone number, and made his call. 

‘Let’s hope this thing gets reception. Perhaps there are wireless networks nearby…’

*Would you mind dropping by somewhere with free wifi Rebecca? This guy is calling in some cavalry for you to stomp.*

*Mmm..there’s a McDonalds coming up here. I don’t normally eat there though, it’s awful for me.*

*It’s important.*

*It had better be.* She mentally smirked. 


When the call came Vernon flipped open his cellphone and raised a hand for silence. 


Claudia took a bite of her souffle, purchased at a bakery down the street, and sighed. Sitting around in this stupid garage with these strangers was boring and weird. Hurry up and wait, that was how it went. She paused as Vernon’s face grew concerned and the captain leaned in. 

‘I see. Do you have any idea where you are?’ 

A pause. Theo and Isabelle walked over to stand behind his chair. The other men around the room perked up and reached for firearms. 

‘Check the wireless networks nearby once the car stops. Tell me what they’re called.’ 

More waiting. Claudia looked up at Theo. He raised his eyebrows and rubbed his beard. It was his nervous tic. 

‘McDonalds,’ he snapped his fingers rapidly at Theo, who opened his laptop. ‘What time was it when you were captured exactly? Be precise.’ Vernon accepted the laptop and began typing in an address. ‘Alright. How long have you been driving?’ A pause. ‘Were you unconscious at any point? No? Good.’ 

‘What’s he doing?’ Isabelle mouthed to Claudia. Claudia gave her an irritated look and waived for silence. 

‘Alright...what’s the name of the wireless network? Be precise.’ A pause. 

‘Alright, listen closely,’ Vernon scrutinized the map on the screen. ‘The next time she interrogates you, inform her that a storage garage filled with non-electronic paper accounting documents and cash disbursements can be found at the following address. Wait at least an hour for us to get into position, understand?’ 

A pause. 

‘Alright. Save the battery on your phone, don’t call again unless you discover something important.’ 

He slapped his phone shut and looked to the others. ‘A credit union was just hit. Elements of management have been taken captive. Given the time of their capture, there are four McDonalds within driving distance of the site. The attacker is currently parked there, probably waiting for a vehicle change. One of the captives had a smartwatch that wasn’t noticed. Get ready to move.’  

They leapt into action, grabbing bags and zipping on armored vests. Claudia picked up a pistol and racked the slide, but Vernon put a hand on her shoulder. She glanced at him. 

‘Not you.’ 


‘Management still needs to be recovered. On this map are four McDonalds locations,’ he wrote on a sticky note and handed it to her. ‘Call them all and ask which one has this wireless network. Then go there and search the area.’ 

She took the note and looked at it. ‘Alone?’ 

‘It’s a public place, and I think you may be the only one capable of it. There are over fifteen employees in captivity. The target is a black woman in her mid thirties, possibly with an associate. A blond haired Scandinavian woman named Hilda.’

Claudia raised an eyebrow. ‘Fine, but why me exactly?’ 

Vernon chewed his lip and looked away awkwardly. ‘Because….the prisoners have all been shrunk to tiny size.’ 

Claudia blinked and scoffed. ‘What!?’ 

‘Yeah. Apparently she has them all um...shoved up her ass. And is using telepathy to play trampy dominance games with them.’ 

Claudia’s mouth dropped open. 


Rebecca had eaten lentils that morning, to prepare for her current 'role' as a jailor.

So while the drama unfolded elsewhere across the city, she drove to a coffee shop and found a cozy secluded corner to do some billing. She hummed as she sipped her latte and typed on her laptop. 

Meanwhile, deep inside her ass, the seventeen desperate button-sized bankers and mercenaries were compacted into a mass of tangled limbs by her posture and enveloped in her sauna-like body heat. They desperately reassured each other their mystery dominatrix would walk into a trap any second and they would be rescued.

That's about when the lentils caught up to her.

She smiled and farted on them, typing. They freaked out. Her bum jiggled a bit, but nobody could see it under her skirt. 

A few minutes later she farted on them again. And then again...and again. 

And again. 

She sipped her drink and smirked. Troy could just stay in there. This was too funny. After a few more minutes she reached down into the panicked minds of her 'tenants' and found the bank manager. 


The Lady was sitting in the driver’s seat of a van in an alley somewhere in western Liverpool, tapping on a tablet, when she got the call. She flipped her phone and sighed. 


‘I’ve just been tipped off that a stockpile of important files and sensitive materials are kept in a garage in Vauxhall. I’ll text you the address. It’s going to be a trap, but quickly put together. Mercenaries and maybe a few people with paranormal abilities.’ Rebecca was whispering, obviously so anyone trapped inside her bottom couldn’t hear her voice resonating through her body. 

‘Understood. Estimated time of arrival?’

‘No idea. Considering he waited a bit before telling me it was probably to give them time to show and get set up. I’d assume they’re there already or will soon be.’ 

‘That will work. Carry on then, I’ll handle things on this end.’ 

Rebecca hung up. The lady ended the call, then dialed another number; 0800 789 321. The line didn’t even finish ringing once before someone picked up. 


‘What’s your emergency?’ 

‘Yes I...I just saw several cars full of men down a side street wearing ski masks and carrying what looked like machine guns. They were kicking open the door to a warehouse and shouting. I don’t think they’re the police.’ 

‘Alright, remain calm maam. Where was this? Do you have an address?’ 

‘I...ah, yes. Yes, I’m in Vauxhall. Right on the corner of-*


*Enjoying yourself down there Troy?* Rebecca's telepathic voice was syrupy sweet as she shifted and did her kegel exercises. 

*What the hell did you eat Rebecca?!?*

*Aww, is that a no? I thought you liked my bum.* 

*It's really cramped and I've got a guy's elbow in my ear!! I need to come out soon!!*

*It's called 'coming in from the cold' actually. Spy talk for recalling a mole. I heard it in a movie once.*

She farted on them again and sighed in relief. Hot air gusted into the cushions beneath her bottom. 

*You're evil.*

*Heh, yeah. I didn't realize revenge would be this fun. But umm.. I've got a small problem. I can't tell which one is you.*

Troy paused. 


*You're all sort of squashed together, I can't pick you out. You feel like a lump of pressure in there. I can't find you with telekinesis.*

Troy looked around frantically. *Umm...ok, this might work…*


The Lady felt slightly guilty. Manipulating an anti-terrorism team into a clash with Lodge mercenaries seemed rather heartless. But they *were* criminals, and they *were* lurking in an urban area with assault weapons, so in theory this was exactly the sort of thing MI5 existed to put a stop to.

They found a safe spot to park the van three blocks from the intended ambush site. The Lady emerged with Bonnie and four young men who served as bodyguards around the Castle, tucking stolen pistols into their trousers. Once they were out of sight they shrank everyone and telekinetically flew out of the alley, high over the rooftops. They were all the size of wasps. From there they closed in on the warehouse-of-death and settled into the eaves of an apartment building down the alley to watch the fireworks. 

There were six cars parked along the street. All civilian vehicles, and not a single ‘mysterious van’ in sight. She had been guessing on that front, and it seemed her assumption that the killers would use a van had been wrong. But there *was* movement near the garage at the end of the street. Hidden men lurked inside, and a trio of fellows in bulky jackets loitered down the street next to a dumpster. They took in the ambush silently, watching and waiting, wondering how it would all play out.

Then a service door opened up behind them.

The six wasp-sized observers stood there, motionless, as a pair of grizzled men in beanies and heavy coats hustled over to the edge of the roof not five feet from where they stood, drawing out sub machine guns with folding stocks and affixing scopes to them. One of them drew a radio from his belt and thumbed it on as they both fell flat. 

‘Charlie group checking in. We’re in position. All’s quiet here, over.’ 

The radio buzzed and clicked. A female voice, exotically accented, replied.

‘Copy that Charlie group. Expect contact soon and stay under cover.’

‘Understood mam. This’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel.’

The Lady and Bonnie looked at each other. Then they looked at the two clueless killers, on their stomachs, peering down at the street below. 

*I think not,* the Lady projected to Bonnie. *Francis, could you properly emulate this fellows voice? I believe their weapons would look more fetching in our possession.*

The handsome young bodyguard shrugged. *Of course your Grace. It would be no trouble at all.* 

*Splendid. Bonnie, you may assert yourself.*


*Alright you little losers, time for a new game* Rebecca's mental voice thundered into the heads of the tiny men trapped inside her. * I'm about to slide a rubber cock up my bum. Anyone not deep enough when it arrives gets squished. I'll give… one minute.*

She cut contact, then farted down on them for emphasis. This pushed them slightly downward. 

Her rectum turned into a frenzy of activity as the seventeen captives scrambled over each other to climb deeper up into the abyss of her shitty ass.

'Climb you idiots! Climb!' Someone shouted. 

Troy did not. He slipped away in the blackness and crawled down toward her asshole, pressing ahead while her slick insides squoze him and rubbed trace amounts of slime across his face. 

Rebecca smirked as she felt the chaos going on inside her rectum. She widened her thighs and leaned forward a bit to straighten out her inner tunnel. More gas was building in her pelvis. 

*Ready love?*

*Ahhhh...yeah.* Troys face ran into a familiar button of hard muscle. *I'm at your um...sphincter.*

*Freedom Troy. So close, yet so far. You don't get to come out unless I let you…*

Yeah, Troy decided. Rebecca was definitely absorbing his fetish. He needed to play it cool for now, and take it up with Mary later. 

*Please mistress, let me out. I promise I'll be good.* 

She snerked and farted him out into her thong. The remaining seventeen men were hit by a blast of gas. This briefly opened her inner sphincter, and the five who had selfishly stepped on their fellows to climb the deepest were caught in the tiny backdraft and pulled up through her 'second gate' into her sigmoid colon.

*Oops,* she projected sarcastically, draping her elbows over the backrest and crossing her legs. *Did you gents crawl too deep up my ass? I guess I’ll just keep you in there then. And don't worry, I'm sure you'll make it back out.*

Troy huffed in relief and breathed the free air, buried in her seated butt crack while the 'winners' of Rebecca's fake contest-slash-test-of-character despaired.



Bonnie liked fighting. 

She was a werewolf, so this was expected. It wasn't *really* necessary. She could have simply shrunk them. But she wanted to get physical, and both men were on their stomachs when she rose behind them. 

Her first act was a ruthless full-body bunny hop onto one fellows head with both her feet. Whether it killed him or not was impossible to say, but he stopped moving. 

The second mercenary reacted fast, rolling over and reaching for a pistol. His speed was impressive. Bonnie simply jumped again, lifted her legs, and fell on his chest with her butt. This blasted the wind out of him. 

Smiling nastily, the Irish redhead pulled the winded man's throat up between her thighs and proceeded to choke him out, holding his arms and smiling down at him as his struggles dwindled. 

And just like that, they were done. 

Bonnie then shrunk both men out of their clothes, fished them out, and gleefully stuffed them down the back of her leggings deep into her butt crack before squeezing her cheeks together to bury them alive.

*Done your Grace.* 

*Gentlemen, when I restore you to your original sizes please take up their weapons and be ready.*


It began with the arrival of an armored car. 

The MI5 anti terrorism unit deployed into the alley and advanced on the garage from three directions. By the time the Lady saw them it was obvious they had surrounded the area well before that. The newcomers shouted in at the Lodge killers, demanding their immediate surrender. 

Shots were fired. 

A group of men in SWAT gear stormed down the street and breached the building. The resulting gunfight was brief and scary. In her long life the Lady had been fired on several times, but the lethality of it still left her unnerved. Her followers were peaceful people. They did not enjoy the murderous underworld people like this operated in. But the anti-terrorism field team had no such reservations; this was precisely what they did. And for a minute it looked like the affair was settled before it began.

Then the first manifestation of magic came. 

A detachment lurking at the mouth of the adjoining alley began breathlessly calling into their radios for help. Bonne flew to the edge of the roof and looked down to see five men gasping and clawing at their throats. Some unseen force had drawn the air from their lungs, and they were helplessly asphyxiating with no visible enemy in sight. 

*The powered agents are here your Grace,* Bonnie projected. She was about to leap down and help the hapless soldiers when they whipped around violently and slammed against nearby walls and trash cans with legal force. Necks snapped. Spines twisted. Corpses flopped like ragdolls as their bodies hit the asphalt.

Bonne froze. 

Whoever had just killed those men had done it from hiding, and they were obviously still around. With powers like that they could easily kill her too. The Lady joined her at the edge, waving her two gaurds back and ordering them to head downstairs. 

*Do you see anyone?*

*No your Grace. Telekinesis and some sort of breath stealing trick I think. A wizard like you?*

*No,* the Lady narrowed her eyes angrily. *Two people, probably three. And they can hide somehow. We watch as Mary ordered.*

*But they slew those soldiers!* Bonnie protested. *They are mortals!* 

*I know Bonnie. Patience.*

The redheaded werewolf growled and crouched, eyes raking the alleyway. *This is not going as planned.*   


The instant his watchers reported the arrival of an armored car, Vernon understood what had happened. He stood behind a filing cabinet in the old storage garage and ran his tongue over his teeth, thinking rapidly. Things were spiraling out of hand. Two of his men were dead, and the corpses of five British special forces agents littered the ground. There was blood everywhere. The northward door leading into the garage hung off its hinges from where they’d just breached. 

‘We need to get out of here sir,’ one of his men hissed tersely. 

Isabelle ducked away from the thin windowpane she’d been peering through and called out. ‘The western alley is cleared. Five down. If we want to slip away I’ve created us a path, but it won’t remain open for long.’ 

Speed was the only way they were going to do this. The longer they waited the more resistance they would encounter. They needed to blind the local traffic cameras and vanish. Ditch their weapons. Evade the police dragnet. 

‘We use the corridor. Ditch your weapons and gear here, disperse when you hit the street and head out solo. Isabelle your job is to destroy all the traffic cameras in the area with your power. Be chaotic, don’t follow a specific path. Meet up in two days in the chatroom for further orders. Don’t tell anyone else where you’re going.’ 

He rushed to the doorway and fell in next to Theo as his men complied. 

‘Fly out of here,’ he whispered to the blond assassin. ‘Take to the rooftops and make a full report to management. Carry Isabelle with you and help her disable the cameras. Tell them someone else in management has turned traitor and sold us out. Go ten seconds after we do.’

Theo nodded.


After finding the McDonalds and checking the cars parked outside, Claudia entered and bought herself an iced latte. She took a seat by herself and scanned the dining area for five long minutes, until she was certain there were no black women nearby. Her target had probably switched rides by now. She sighed in irritation and rose to leave. Out on the street she studied the local storefronts and hauled out her phone to dial a number. It rang twice before someone picked up. 

‘I expect good news.’

'A credit union was hit a few hours before our arrival. I suspect the bank manager and his staff are being held captive somewhere near my position. Their files were stolen. I’m looking for a lone black woman with a computer in the immediate vicinity. What support can you give me, and what would you like done with the captives once I find them?’ 

Lord Halifax paused. She heard the sound of keystrokes. 

‘Stand by.’ 


The Lady and Bonnie were still two inches tall, watching from the eaves of the building, when they made their move.  

Four unarmed men in jeans and jackets slipped out of the garage and hustled down the alley like greased lightning, slipping past the dead MI5 soldiers and making for the outer street. The Lady shrank them as they ran, first one, then another. Bonnie took the other two before any of them made it into the open. Bonnie shook her fist and squirmed, hardly able to contain her excitement. They flew down together, searching the ground for any sign of the four men. 

Voices and running boots intruded on their hunt immediately. Shouting MI5 soldiers broke into the alley and saw their dead comrades strewn across the ground. Calls for medical attention went out. The Lady dragged Bonnie into cover behind a trash can and waited while the angry SWAT team searched the area.

They came across all four of the soldiers by pure accident, huddling beneath a dumpster trying to avoid the heavy boots thundering down the alley. 

‘Can I collect them?’ Bonnie asked the Lady excitedly as the four men spun to notice them. 

The Lady pursed her lips. ‘Those three yes. Not that older one. He and I need to have a word.’ 

The bell on the coffee shop door jingled. Rebecca ignored it at first, but paused when someone walked up to her table. She looked up and met Claudia’s eyes. 

‘Is this seat taken?’ 

Rebecca sucked on her teeth for a moment and then gestured. Claudia sat down. The two women regarded one another in silence. Eventually Rebecca spoke first. ‘Can I help you?’ 

‘I’m looking for a man named Troy Denning. I was informed you knew where I might find him.’ 

Troy was sprawled on the surface of a quilted cushion with Rebecca’s thong pressing down on top of him. Her undercarriage covered him completely. Everything smelled like vagina and methane. After the crushing hell of being stuck up her asshole he was glad to be laying flat, even if she was seated on top of him. Her life force soaked into his bones. Then she shifted, and he heard the murmur of voices. Rebecca was talking to someone. A woman’s voice. The belly crawled out from beneath her crotch. She seemed to feel it, because she shifted slightly to give him enough space to escape.


*What? What’s going on-*

*Shut up and hide! I can’t shrink her.*

‘The stockbroker?’ Rebecca snorted. ‘Yeah, I’ve met him. Why?’ 

‘He and I have some business to discuss. I thought I’d use you to get a message to him.’ 

Rebecca chewed her lip and tried again to alter the woman’s size, to no avail. Claudia felt the attempt and furrowed her brow. It was a new sensation, but she instinctively understood what it was.

‘Ahhh,’ she smiled and tsked. ‘That doesn’t work on me. You on the other hand,’ she closed her eyes and inhaled deep, ‘are….borrowing someone elses powers? That’s amazing. I can feel it. Is it that ring you’re wearing?’ 

Rebecca’s mouth drew into a hard line and her breath caught. Her eyes rolled up into her head for a moment and she trembled. Claudia sat back and raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you alright?’ 

Rebecca composed herself with visible effort and brought a hand up to her face. She trembled. ‘I um...I’m sorry. I have visions sometimes.’ 

Claudia cocked her head with mild interest. ‘Oh? Did you see something interesting?’ 

Rebecca swallowed. ‘Yeah, actually. If you kill me…this isn’t going to end well for you. Not now, but later.’ 

‘Huh.’ Claudia crossed her legs and ran her tongue along her inner cheek, scrutinizing Rebecca carefully. ‘How odd. I’ve never run into this situation before. I guess you could be lying though.’ 

Rebecca shook her head slowly. ‘Actually no.’ 


‘Oracles can’t lie. We can refuse to talk, but we can’t lie. It’s caused me all kinds of trouble down the years.’ 

Claudia focused her power on Rebecca-

And she shrank.

And shrank.

And shrank. 

Troy’s eyes grew wide. He hurled himself sideways and crawled beneath the embroidered back cushion of the chair, hiding. Within seconds Rebecca sprawled in the middle of the seat, no larger than he had been. Her clothes had also shrunk, but her ring had not. It sat, large and glittering, in the chair next to her tiny form where it had fallen off her finger. 

Claudia rose and bent down to pluck up the tiny woman and the ring, glancing around the mostly empty shop to see if anyone had noticed. Nobody had. She pursed her lips and slid the ring onto her finger, admiring it for a moment. 

‘Very nice. Pity it didn’t work on me. I can actually do that to people, you see. I don’t need a ring. Though...I think I’ll keep it anyway, just as a memento.’ 

Rebecca rolled up to a sitting position and stared at Claudia’s face. Her full lips. Her large mysterious eyes. Her cruel smirk. 

*Oh! It makes you telepathic too!* Claudia’s voice intruded into her mind. *How amazingly handy!* 

*You crazy bitch! I still have hostages-*

*You mean all those itty bitty men stuck up your ass right now? I guess without this ring they’re all ass-phyxiating right now, aren’t they? Well, we can’t have that.*

Claudia turned and strolled into the hallway, pushing open the bathroom door and stepping inside to lock it shut. She unzipped her tight jeans and pulled them down around her thighs, bending forward and bringing her pinched fingers around behind her parted cheeks. She carefully pressed Rebecca up against her pucker and stuffed her through it, driving the tiny black businesswoman deep up her ass. Then she stood, zipped up, and began washing her hands. As an afterthought she flooded the tiny woman’s pattern with her life force to sustain her. Rebecca felt the sinister latina woman’s essence ooze into her body like warm oil; hot and sultry and somehow insidious. 

*What a curious standoff,* she telepathically chatted to the tiny woman as she crushed her deep inside her butt. *If I kill you, all the hostages stuffed up your ass will suffocate. But now if your friends come along and somehow kill me, so will you. My god. I’m like some horrible anal dominatrix matreyeshka doll.*

*What the hell do you want!?* Rebecca raged at her. 

*I told you, Troy Denning and Mary Parker.* Claudia strolled back out into the cafe, hips swaying, snatched Rebecca’s drink from her table. *And those men are nice and safe up inside of you, now that I’m the one sustaining all of you. They should be too small to suffer much if I decide to have some fun with you. We’re going to become very good friends, I think. I have so many questions.* 

*Rebecca!? Rebecca can you hear me!?* Troy projected furiously as Claudia stopped at the table. 

*TROY! I’m still alive! Get the others and tell them this crazy bitch has my ring! She can-*

Claudia slipped out into the street. The bell on the cafe door rang again. Troy peeked out from behind the seat cushion and watched her leave. He was still tiny. Rebecca hadn’t told anyone where she’d gone, and nobody had any idea where he was. He dropped hard against the seat and huffed, running a hand through his hair.

‘Oh no.’