You decide you can no longer stare at the tall, professional-looking high heels in front of you, and you turn your gaze upwards. You see, much to your horror, the passive yet inquisitive expression of a woman in her late 40s or early 50s staring directly at you. She's already bent over to get a better look at what must be a confusing sight for her. You don't want to waste time staring, but you can tell from her professional outfit and the pearls around her neck that this woman is rich and gets the job done. You can also see she doesn't have a ring on her finger. She's probably divorced. Either way, this is a powerful woman who doesn't mess around.
“You’ve got to help me!” you shout. Hopefully she's too busy to worry about you, and she'll just put you down by the gun in the trash and let you go. You can take it from there.
Unfortunately, all she does is smirk at you, before reaching out with her gigantic right hand and slowly lifting you up in her palm, until you're eye level with the crouched giantess. “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT,” she asks, with a withdrawn and distinterested look on her face. It's like she doesn't even care, or doesn't take you seriously. Neither is a positive situation, but you point to the trash can anyway. “That gun in there shrunk me!" you shout. "It can turn me back to normal; just put me down next to it."
She looks over and sees the gun. After a moment, a dawn of recognition comes on her face. “LOOKS LIKE YOUR LITTLE GAME WENT AWRY,” she says, with the hint of a smile. Still holding you, she reaches into the trash with her left hand and gingerly plucks the gun out, while at the same time wrapping her fingers around you in her right hand. It's not tight, per se, but you're a little concerned that she's going in the wrong direction from letting you go.
This giant woman turns the gun around in her left hand and looks at the settings. "Wait," she says. "This does a lot more things than just shrink." She pauses for a second, and then looks at you. "Actually, this looks like a pretty powerful invention." She pauses again. "What were you doing with this thing? You were just messing around?"
You figure that's a better excuse than the chicanery you were actually pulling, so you go with it. "Yeah, I wanted to see what would happen. I wanted to-" but you can't get your sentence out, as her right hand holds you even tighter.
"MY GOD," she says, staring intently at the gun. "THE POWER IN THIS THING IS INCREDIBLE." She then turns to you with an expression of pure power and evil. "AND I COULD CRUSH YOU LIKE A BUG, AND NO ONE WOULD EVER BE THE WISER. ALL THIS POWER COULD BE MINE. HOW AMAZING. HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO SHRINK EVEN FURTHER? YOU COULD BE A PET TO SERVE MY EVERY WHIM."
The woman then closes her eyes, almost as if she's thinking intently, but with a smile on her face. You're not sure what she's thinking about until you notice through her business suit that you can see the faint outline of her hardened nipples. Whatever this woman plans on doing with you, the thought of her control over you is really turning her on. As she concentrates, she curls her fingers even further to make a fist with you inside. She actually squeezes quite tightly. It's starting to hurt a lot.
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