The third woman was lying along the side of the box, head turned to face the corner, as if trying to pay no attention to him at all. "Your turn," Lance said, reaching in and poking at her with a finger, but she didn't react. Carefully, he lifted her up and set her in his palm, then stood and stared down at her.
She was cute, he thought. Her brown hair was cut short and seemed somewhat disheveled, but still framed her pretty face in an attractive way. The flowered dress she wore was very appealing, but unfortunately covered most of her, though from what he could see, she appeared to possess a pleasing shape. "Hello," he said to her cautiously. "What's your name, little one?"
"Why?" she replied in a soft, pitiful voice. "What difference could it possibly make?"
"It matters to me," he answered, reaching out to see what she felt like under his finger, but for some reason he paused. "Please, just tell me, all right?" he almost begged.
"If you must," she replied resignedly, sitting up and crossing her legs underneath the dress. "I'm Stacey Carruthers."
"Why are you so sad?" said Lance, reaching out cautiously and trying to smooth her hair down. She made no attempt to resist, almost as if she knew there was nothing she could possibly do to stop whatever it was he wanted to do to her.
Strangely, Lance found he didn't want to do anything to her at all, except gently stroke her incredibly fine brown hair. The thought of abusing her in any way made him cringe, even though just a few moments before he hadn't hesitated to tear open the helpless Olivia's shirt. He shook his head, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. This could be his future pet he was cradling in his hand! Why didn't he want to play with her like he had the others?
She looked up at him for the first time, and now he saw that she was, indeed, very beautiful, but her eyes were swollen red and rimmed with tears. "Why am I sad?" she asked with a whimper. "Why wouldn't I be? I've been shrunk down to the size of a doll, and you're going to take me home and put me in a cage. Then you'll--you'll--" She couldn't go on, lowering her head and covering her face with her hands.
"Listen," Lance told her with a sudden sincerity that surprised even himself, "I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do. I'd never keep you in a cage, Stacey, unless it was to protect you. After all, do you really want anyone else to see you like this?"
"N-no," she replied. "No, I'm a freak, they'd put me in a sideshow like--like this one!" Suddenly she started to shout in anguish. "Oh, God, please help me! Put me back to normal! I don't want to be small anymore! I-I want to be big again!"
Lance sighed as she broke down and cried in his palm. What had been done to her was about as cruel a thing as he'd ever seen, so he forced that out of his mind. He didn't want to think about Stacey's feelings, so he turned his mind to other things, and after a moment he realized that he really didn't even know why these women had been shrunk, or how. Had the odd little man done it, or was it the result of some kind of accident? Could it be reversed? And, he found himself wondering as he thought back to how Vanessa had felt in his hand, would he really want to?
He was about to ask Stacey how she'd been shrunk when suddenly the door behind him clanked and slid open. He set the tiny, sobbing woman carefully on the table and turned to see Enrik come back inside. "Time's up," the dwarf told him. "Have you made your choice?"
"Not really," said Lance, glancing back down at the table. Vanessa was there, once again clothed, looking up at him and waving expectantly. Stacey had curled up along the side of the box, and back in the darkness he could see tiny Olivia peering out at him in fear.
"Well, come on," the little man insisted. "You must decide now, Mr. Harrison."
Lance sighed. Which would it be? Vanessa had felt fantastic in his hand, and he really wanted the opportunity to try to tame the feisty Olivia. Stacey seemed a distant third choice, though he did pity her, and wished he could do something to help.
He thought again about the other two. Olivia would be a handful, that much was certain. He'd definitely have to keep her locked up or she'd try to get away. What if she got to a phone somehow? Would a four-inch woman be able to testify in court that he'd kidnapped her? Probably, he thought, though it would be the weirdest trial on record. Still, he could think of several ways to make sure she didn't escape, and he was pretty sure in time he could break the little filly.
Vanessa, on the other hand, was more willing than any woman he'd ever seen. There'd be no reason to ever keep her prisoner! He closed his eyes and imagined coming home every night to a happy little pet who'd do anything he wanted her to. Even now she was jumping up and down and all but begging him to choose her. Yet, something just didn't seem right. She certainly climaxed awfully fast, much quicker than any woman he'd ever known, so unless being shrunk increased one's libido, she must have been faking. Would she really be quite so willing once he got her home and out of this place? And even if she was, wouldn't he get bored after a while without a challenge in their relationship? You can always take a dog or cat back to the pound if you don't like them, but not a miniature person!
He looked again at the table, at Vanessa's bouncy enthusiasm, Olivia's hilarious cowering, and Stacey's mournful gaze. His eyes moved between each of them in turn as he tried to make up his mind. "Mr. Harrison, please!" Enrik suddenly shouted in a voice much louder than Lance had ever expected to hear. "I need your answer NOW!"
If you think Lance should pick the willing and able Vanessa, click here
If you think he should choose the spunky, feisty Olivia, click here
If you think he should go with the sad and pitiful Stacey, click here