You sway in her grasp as she gets into her car. The sound of the car door is deafening in your ears, almost like a thunderclap.
As the giantess starts the car, you notice something that makes your stomach lurch. It's not something that's there, but something that isn't.
Drivers at this car service have the option of serving only norm customers or a hybrid of norm and shrunken customers (nobody only serves tinys, because the rates are so low, one of the very few perks of being a shrinkee). The ones that do serve shrinkees are supposed to have a company-issued comfort cage fixed in one of the cupholders. It's padded and securely locked so only the driver can open it, or the shrinkee can with the app in case of an emergency. This is to keep the ride comfortable for such fragile people and so unscrupulous passengers don't grab a tiny as they're leaving the car. Unfortunately, the only thing in the single cupholder is a large cup of coffee from a popular chain.
The giantess shifts her hand so that you roll down her rough fingers into her palm. Her ample bosom rises above you, covered in a striped blue-and-black dress. She runs her fingers through her hair and says. "I know what you're thinking, but you can't blame me. Some drunk idiot smashed the comfort cage, and the company has been slow to issue me a new one. But so far, every customer I've had has been amenable to one of many other options to keep you safe. I'm not going to keep you within easy reach of other passengers, especially since I'm picking up a bunch of drunk sorority girls. The glove compartment is full of junk. I wouldn't want the stuff in it to rattle around and injure you. I'd keep you in the Starbucks cup, but it's full right now and I don't think I can chug the whole thing. So that leaves you one of three options." The giantess places a finger from her other hand on her palm in front of you with each option, as she explains what it is. Since she can't hear you at your size, especially over busy street traffic, she instructs you to go to the finger that indicates your preferred option. You don't love any of them, but her brows knit with impatience as you deliberate, and you're too tired to rant angrily at her, so you walk toward...
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