The Man in the Box

THE MAN IN THE BOX

"It was like magic! One moment I'm standing there. And the next thing I know, I'm looking up at her like she's a redwood!"

. . .

I wrote this very long story starting just before Christmas, with an interlocutor whom I call "Jason." The story is too long for one blog entry, so you’ll find it stretched out over several.

It started as we discussed some ideas he had, but there seemed a bit of difficulty pinning him down. He fancies me as a kind of giantess, but actually he's more like the Incredible Shrinking Man, shrunken to a size where he can fit into my hand.

At last, "Jason" told me what he fantasized about:

"The story I envision is one of pure revenge. I would be something along the lines of a "love' em and leave' em" kind of guy, never thinking twice of the long line of women he has devastated. He strings you along promising commitment and the possibility of marriage, only to cheat every chance he gets finally getting caught and leaving. As soon as he’s gone, he picks up with someone else, with whom he does exactly the same thing.

"Some time goes by until one day a gift box is sitting on your doorstep. A simple note states that his newest woman wanted to make sure it didn't happen to anyone else. Now, it would be your turn to get even and pass him on to previous exes if you wanted. Inside the box, there I am, my shrunken body bound by simple scotch tape."

So, I replied, this would be a story of ultimate revenge for someone like me. After leaving me, you made the mistake of messing with a woman who had magic powers. Instead of a slap in the face or slamming a car door on your leg, she wanted to make really sure you'd never be able to do this again.

Exactly, wrote Jason. "Sparing the next woman whom I might try to romance and run, while getting satisfaction for herself and letting my previous fling get some payback."

I can imagine the look of horror on your face, I wrote, as her fingers closed around you and stuffed you into the little gift box. Then, a piece of scotch tape secures you firmly. Try as you might, your now tiny muscles lack the ability to overcome the strength of her tape.

"Yes," wrote Jason, "just the shock of dwindling down would be enough, but then to be sealed inside not knowing what she might have in mind for me."

That's right, said I. For all you knew at the moment, she might simply be meaning to crush you in her fingers.

"The humiliation of being so easily handled," continued Jason, "that even the simplest thing like a strip of tape can now stop me. Being sealed in the dark box would be like being buried in a coffin. For all I know she might be going to just bury me alive."

Unfortunately for you, Jason, you possess enough of the streak of a jerk that you'd already bragged to her about all the other women you did this to. She already knows all the names, including mine. Once you were pinned inside the box, it would be a simple matter for her to command you to tell all their addresses. Since it would take no effort at all for her simply to cover the box and tie it shut with a ribbon, entombing you forever, you co-operated.

She'd most likely pick your last fling, me, knowing that my anger would be the least likely to have cooled.

"Since you and I are definitely finished, Jason," she'd say, "I think I'm going to send you back to Anne Marie. Her memories of you are probably the freshest.

"Let's see ... Bergen County, New Jersey. I think you and I are going to go for one final drive. But this time, I'll do the driving."

"To Anne Marie?" you protested. "But you've had your fun. I've learned my lesson. You're done with me so just let me go. This doesn't have to keep on going on like this."

You continue muttering something about not liking that idea, but she interrupts: "Right now, I'm about 50-50 between stepping on the gas pedal to drive and just stepping on you to end this relationship the way you deserve it to be. Don't push me to change my mind!"

You start to open your mouth to say something, but quickly clamp it shut, not wanting to push her.

If only I could have been there to see the look of horror in your eyes! You'd certainly be terrified to face me again, in your current state. But even worse would be for her to crush you out of existence under her shoe. You reason that your best chance is going to be with me. With any luck I will have calmed down, and perhaps your old tricks from before will work again with me.

She puts on her coat and shoes and picks up her purse. You can hear her, but due to being sealed in the gift box you can't see anything. Suddenly, you feel the shock of being picked up. The acceleration and deceleration of just being carried in her hand is enough to make you nauseous. The tape holding your arms makes it impossible for you to move.

One by one, you hear the sounds of her keys as she roots in her purse for them. Then the clunk of the power locks as she opens her door.

You feel your box come to rest on the passenger seat of her car. Then she starts the engine and you feel another burst of power as she drives away.

It seems like forever. Constantly accelerating and decelerating. The effect is magnified because of your tiny size. Trapped in the darkness, knowing the fate she has chosen for you, is driving you mad. You know there is nothing you can do right now to stop any of this from happening.

You’re alone with your thoughts, lying in darkness with only the sounds of her driving. You wait for the car to stop, while dreading the thought of it.

Then the car stops, and you feel yourself being carried again. At last, you hear another person's voice. It's mine!

"Hello? Yes?" I ask.

"Merry Christmas!" she says, in a semi-sour voice.

"What's this? Do I know you?"

"I'm making a delivery. It's somebody from your past."

"Oh!" I say, curious and no longer uneasy.

I take the little gift box, and she turns and leaves. I take you inside.

Your ears prick up and you strain to listen through the cardboard walls of your prison. You recognize my voice. You struggle as best you can, trying to free your bonds, but you’re utterly unable to overcome the strength of the tape with which she bound you. Your tiny muscles are so weak that they can't make any movement I can feel.

There's no tag or anything. "I wonder who this is from," I mutter to myself.

I sit down, undo the ribbon, and open the little box. That's when I squeal in shock! It looks like someone has sent me a bug. I slam the lid back down on the box.

"Just as soon as the light opened up to me," Jason wrote, "it was cut off again as you roughly slammed the lid back down on the little box."

Now is the moment of truth for you. Fear me or no, you've got to cry out and get my attention before I dump you, entombed in the box, into the garbage, thinking you a bad practical joke.

"Anne Marie! ... Anne Marie! I'm in here! Can you hear me!" Your lungs strains on those words, trying to make your little voice heard.

"My gosh! That voice! ... That's Jason! What's this all about!"

My curiosity gets the better of my revulsion at the sight of an ugly bug, as you hoped it would. I put the box down and carefully look inside again.

Whatever it is, it doesn't actually look like an arthropod.

The sight of my face looming over the box brings a shiver to your spine. You lie there, hardly daring to say anything. Will I be so angry that I decide to peremptorily finish you off right now?

Covering the box once more, I fetch a magnifying glass. Then, subjecting you to a more careful inspection, I see that the wormy creature taped inside is a tiny figurine that resembles you. I can see the figurine writhing against the strength of the scotch tape. This is no mere figurine. It's alive.

"Anne Marie! Help me!" I hear in your tiny voice.

"Jason?"

"Anne Marie....its really me, Jason. Please get this tape off me." You feel so exposed, lying there unable to move with my eyes examining you.

"What on earth! Jason, what ... how?" My fingers nimbly remove the piece of tape. For the first time since your shrinking, you're able to move your little body.

"Jason, what is this? How did you get ... like this?"

Your skin still feels a bit dry and sore from the tape. You stretch out and try to stand up in the box.

"That woman," you exclaim, "the one who gave you the box. She did this to me. She must be a witch or something. I know it sounds crazy, but I think I'm the proof that it’s true. She's evil! Just look at me!"

"How ... how did she do ... what?"

"I have no idea. It was like magic. One moment I'm standing there. And the next thing I know, I'm looking up at her like she's a redwood. All I saw was a flash and then I was facing the biggest pair of feet ever."

"Are you saying she made you tiny? Like magic? Jason, what are you saying?"

"Yes, she shrank me. That evil witch did this to me. I ... I don't know how, or why anyone would do this to another person. Now I'm stuck like this ... for who knows how long!"

"Why? Why would she ... do this? ... And what are you doing here? I thought you made it quite plain that you were no more interested in me than an open toilet with flies in a holding pattern. I think those were your exact words. And you said that to me just before Christmas. I never felt so lonely and abandoned!"

You cringe, remembering saying that to me and thinking at the time how witty it seemed to come up with.

"I ... um ... I ..." You’re at a loss for words as you fumble to find the right thing to say to me under the circumstances.

"How would she get the power to ...? Right, because she's a witch. Jason, do you know what I think?"

I pause.

"Jason, did you treat her the same as you did me? That's it, isn't it!"

"Wh ... what? Me? No way. I barely know her. I was a jerk before, but I've tried to change my ways," you lie through your teeth, hoping to find some way out of this mess.

"So, what brings you to my door? Do you think that I'm somehow going to bring you back to normal? I don’t think so. You're going right back to her, right now. Who is she and where does she live?"

"No!! No!!" you scream. "Please, please, not that!"

"Why not? I don't have the power to restore you. If she's a witch, and she shrank you, she'll have to bring you back."

"She's crazy! She was threatening to step on me just before bringing me to you."

"She threatened to step on you! Ha ha ha ha ha! Jason, you have no idea how much I wished that I could step on you this time one Christmas ago."

Regretting that you let that slip out of your mouth to put the thought into my head, you reply, "I know! I know, but I swear I'm a different person now."

"Just how much your words hurt me," I continue as though I hadn’t even heard you, "and how much I would have wished that you'd be ... just the size you are right now, and how I could find revenge as easily as stepping down with my shoe."

"That’s hardly fair," you reply. "Just look at me! I'm helpless, and harmless. I can't do anymore wrong to anyone!" your eyes plaintively staring up at me.

"So, if I take you back to her, you're thinking that she might just step on you, right now? It isn't like you don't deserve it, you know!"

"Yes, she'd definitely do it. I saw the anger burning in her eyes. Who knows what someone like that is capable of?"

"All right. So what's your 'Plan B' for getting back to normal. I'm not a witch, you know."

"I don't really know. This has all happened so fast that I haven't had time to think of the future. Just about what happened to me."

"So, if we can't ask her to bring you back, then I'm stuck with you. The size of a bug. And what if I don't want you? If I just put you out, you'd freeze to death, or starve, or become a morsel for a cat or a rat. Or someone would eventually step on you."

"I can't survive out there alone. I would never be able to fend for myself. Please don’t!"

"I could put you right back in that box and take you to the previous one before me you did this to. You boasted about how much fun you had dumping her. Little did I imagine you'd do the same to me and worse. I don't know how I failed to see through you."

You wince. There’s nothing you can say.

"That seems to leave only one choice, then. Your fate is in my hands." I point my finger at you, as if for emphasis.

You swallow deeply, still staring up at my eyes, not knowing what I might mean by that. "Yes, I guess ... I guess that’s true. You're my only hope now."

"Hummm! Maybe I should keep you, at least for a while. I haven't forgotten what you did to me last Christmas. I've yearned to be able to make you feel my pain, and now I'm starting to see how I can do just that!"

"No! No, Anne Marie, please," you moan. "You have no idea how I've suffered."

"And you didn't know, or more likely didn't care, how much I suffered."

"Um ... Anne Marie, let’s not be hasty. The past is the past. We can just start over for the new year. Just being this small is suffering enough."

"Enough out of you! If I want, I have only to open my door and toss you out."

You drop down on your knees to show that you are serious. "No, Anne Marie, please! I'll be good. You won't even know it’s me! I'll be so good!"

"You'll be as good or better than 'The Night Before Christmas'."

Your eyes widen and you dart to the wall of the box. Holding yourself against it, you wail, "Don’t hurt me! I'm still a person ... a small one but still ...."

"Jason, you lie like a rug! I know better than to believe your promises again. I don't want to simply let you die, even though you deserve it. But you aren't going to be worming your way back into my life.

"I'll keep you over Christmas, while we think about what to do with you. But I haven't forgotten what you said and did."

"Thank you! Thank you! I won't let you down. You'll see I'm like a new man and I don’t deserve what she did to me."

Hoping that I might be taking pity on you, you perceive an opening to perhaps sweet-talk yourself into some sort of relationship with me, long enough at least for you to figure out a way to get back to normal size.

It doesn't work, as I promptly let you know.

"Really! Well, if you're that interested in me, then by your own admission you should be at least as interested in an open toilet.

"Maybe that's where you belong, in fact. In a toilet!"

You try to backtrack, but I continue.

"Perhaps I should just grant you your wish, and drop you into the toilet. Just think! You'd have to swim for your life, although I don't know how you'd ever scale the slippery porcelain walls. Maybe you'd just have to swim until you can't swim any more.

"To make it even more challenging, I could rain down my pee on you as you frantically try to swim away! That would be so cruel of me, wouldn't it! Making you thrash for your very life in the yellow water.

"Since I'm certainly not going to reach down with my hand into the pee, your fate will be sealed. With no escape for you, the only humane thing for me to do would be an act of euthanasia, with the flush lever, wouldn't it?

"With last Christmas still fresh in my mind, I could flush you. You'd try to swim against my swirling water, but there's no escape. And I'd get to watch you desperately beating your arms and legs against the inevitable spiral down. The look on your face would go a long way to make up for the misery I felt after what you said and did to me.

"And then, you'd be gone! Gone into sewer where you belong!"

"No, Anne Marie! No, you wouldn't! You said you weren't going to let me die!"

"I'm not so sure. If there's no way to return you to normal, maybe mercy killing is the most humane thing I could do."

"Don't kill me! I'm helpless before you."

"Why not? I can, can't I?"

I reach for you with my right hand and close my fingers around you. There's no time for you to run or try to dodge me, and in any case my hand is so quick that you could never escape it anyway. Instantly, you feel the tight, but not yet crushing pressure of my grip.

"There! Now you'll go wherever I choose to take you. Since you say that you like toilets so much, would you like to come see where I might yet choose to end your life?"

"Anne Marie, no! What's gotten into you! You never behaved homicidally before. Don't kill me, please!"

"Everything is new now, Jason. I never imagined that I'd some day be able to confront you with your cruel words. And maybe, just maybe, mercy killing really is going to be the most humane thing for me to do.

"You're not moving in with me, now or ever again. You made that very clear, and I'm holding you to your own words. If we don't find a way to bring you back to normal by Christmas, I'm not going to keep you forever."

"What are you going to do then? Please don't kill me!"

"What else would you like me to do? You don't want to go back to your most recent 'conquest.' She has a shoe with your name on it. If I just put you out, you'll face a miserable and possibly lingering death."

. . .

After that little exchange, things calm down a little. A glance at the clock reminds me that I'd better start getting supper ready.

"What are we having?" you inquire.

"Oh, I'm going to have fish, which I like a lot. I'm not sure what you're going to eat."

"I won't eat very much. Just a little will satisfy me."

"It isn't the quantities. I'm not interested in letting you work your way back into my life, such as having supper with me. I've got a bag of dry cat food for when I take care of my sister's cat. Maybe a few morsels of that will be good enough for you."

"Cat food? Anne Marie, please! It won't cost you anything to let me eat a couple of scraps from your plate."

"I don't suppose dry cat food would be very appetizing to a human. But then, I've never tried.

"I do have a bit of an idea, though. Jason, what if I let you work for your supper?"

"What kind of work could I do at this size?"

"Perhaps you're right. Cat food is nutritious for cats, so there's no reason it shouldn't be good for humans too. Yes, that's the answer. Cat food or no food. Your choice."

I grin smugly, confident that I've snookered you.

"What work were you thinking of, Anne Marie? I'll do anything. I've got to eat."

"Do a good job, and I may see fit to barter for a few morsels of fish.

"I got some new nail polish. I can do my fingers easily enough, but it's harder to reach my toes. It occurs to me that you're about the right size to handle my toenails."

"It seems I have little choice."

"No, you don't have much choice. I want the job done, and it's my wish for you to do it. You'll start immediately."

You can hardly believe your ears when you hear what I’ve thought up for you. You thought you’d seen my dark side when we broke up, but it was nothing compared to what you’re hearing from me now! Thinking back to last Christmas, the worst you got was screams and tears. This new plan for you positively freaks you out.

You barely have time to raise your hands to block me, as my fingers reach right around your little body. You squirm uselessly trying to avoid my firm grip, but my soft palm holds you in place no matter how you wiggle.

"Anne Marie, you can't be serious? Please put me down. You're just trying to freak me out right?"

. . .

The whole story is much longer than this. If anyone would like to see more, let me know and I'm happy to share it. I enjoy weaving stories around men's fantasies. Perhaps the next one will be yours!

You can chat with me on Yahoo Instant Messenger. I'm

annemarie41523