A series of short stories about shrinking celebrities. WIP |
Tiny Dancer Rihanna stepped out into the studio car-park. It was dusk, and the place seemed deserted apart from the singer and a few cars. She didn't mean to be here this late, she thought. She'd finished more than an hour ago, and would've been home not long after, but things kept going wrong. She'd been locked in her dressing room for half an hour by some idiot cleaner, for a start. Another idiot had parked far too close to her car, as well - the gap between the two vehicles was too narrow even to squeeze through. She tried anyway, and got stuck. "Need a hand?" said a voice away by her side. She turned to see the cleaner who'd locked her in walking towards her - except she looked very different. Whereas before she'd been wearing an unflattering uniform that made her look fat and had her hair scrunched up out of the way, now it fell around her shoulders and down her back, and her clothes showed a figure models would die for. She was tall as well - much taller than Rihanna. "Is this your car?" she snapped. The cleaner shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. But I can loosen you up a little." "How-" Rihanna began, but her mysterious 'helper' cut her off by planting a kiss full on her lips. It was a very dry, utterly sexless kiss, but the singer felt a tingling sensation spread through her body, and pulled away. As she did so, the cars either side of her began to grow, and move farther apart. The other woman straightened up, then kept on going, towering up into the sky. Rihanna found herself looking directly at her voluptuous breasts as they rose into the sky... Except something wasn't right. Surely if everything was getting bigger, they should be getting closer together - instead, they were getting farther apart. The ground was getting closer, too. And that tingling was getting stronger- A sinking feeling hit her. Or, more accurately, a shrinking feeling. She couldn't be more than two and a half feet tall, and she was still getting smaller. She looked up at her assailant - which took some doing, since she was more than twice her size and had a substantial bosom in the way. "Why are you doing this? How much am I gonna shrink?" The 'cleaner' laughed evilly. "Oh, aren't you an adorable little thing? C'mere, I wanna hold you..." Long, thin hands reached out towards Rihanna, who backed away. She couldn't help but notice just how big everything was getting - which meant, in reality, that she was getting smaller. She stepped sideways to dodge a probing hand, and found that she could easily fit under the car standing upright. She was less than nine inches tall, and still shrinking!. She was so preoccupied with watching the underside disappear upwards, that she didn't notice the hand until it wrapped itself around her and dragged her into the open. Her captor grinned evilly down upon her, and carried her over to a waiting limousine which had arrived silently in the murk. Putting her down on a table, the woman sat down, and then bent over her captive. "You've got one question," she said. Thousands flashed through Rihanna's mind. Who are you? Why do this? Why me? How? Why did my clothes shrink with me? What are you going to do? The one she asked was, "How much more am I gonna shrink?" Another evil laugh. "You'll find out." "But-" she protested, but her shrinker swept her to the floor and stood up, which meant bending double beneath the ceiling of the car. Rihanna could easily see her face contorted with rage. "I said ONE!" she bellowed, stomping her foot. She kicked off her heels and held one stockinged foot over the shrinking girl. "You want me to walk on you? Don't think I won't!" "No! Please! I'm sorry!" squeaked Rihanna, cowering. The giant woman lowered her foot, and she noticed that that tingling was subsiding. She'd stopped shrinking, and stood just under one inch tall. "Good girl." Her captor picked her up and put her back on the table. "Now, I'm gonna show you a story, so I hope you're sitting comfortably..." ***** Next Time: Leading Ladies! |