The tracks rumbled under the train car. Trees blurred past, giving way to buildings, overtaken by more trees.
“Hasn’t this been just the loveliest day, sweetie?” She grinned warmly at the little man in her palm. “We’ve gone out and seen so much, made so many wonderful memories.”
“Who the hell are you?” he screamed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Wasn’t the museum lovely? I never get tired of looking at classical Greek sculpture. It was so nice of you to pay our admission.”
“Please, take me to a doctor! I need a doctor to fix… whatever you’ve done to me!”
“And that lunch! I’ve always wanted to go to that restaurant, but it just seemed so expensive.” She closed her eyes in pleasure. “I can’t thank you enough for treating me to such a fancy meal. You’re really quite generous.”
“Where are my clothes? I need my clothes, my phone… I need to call my wife. Oh God, I was supposed to pick up the kids!”
Her eyes lit up. “What’s that? Here, on the train, in front of everyone? Isn’t that too risqué…” She blushed, then bit her lip. “Well, I suppose you deserve some thanks for such a fun afternoon. And we’ve got a long evening to look forward to, don’t we?” She drew him close to her chest, into an aura of body heat and rosewater perfume. Extending her long and shapely fingers, she began to gently stroke his chest, his legs, and then his crotch, grinning at the little lump forming in his shorts.
For his part, he could only cry in frustration, ineffectually swatting her huge fingers away. He wondered why no one else on the train came to his rescue; indeed, everyone seemed determined not to notice them.
“Oh, what you do to me, my sweet little lover,” she purred, raising him to her lips for a long and greedy kiss.

I suppose everyone who enjoys images of people handling smartphone-sized people owes Steve Jobs a debt of gratitude.
It’s her expression of entitled possession that sells it.
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Absolutely, her expression tells its own story. The vague smirk, somewhere between amusement and curiosity, the casual disregard for anything concerning him… it’s almost like she can’t see him as a real person. Just another handheld device to pull out at her whim and while away the dull moments.
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Well, I’m sorry to say this, but this notion… the very idea of a woman up and lifting a man from his life, simply taking him and making him her own, with little or no disregard to his feelings, and no consideration for what he’s left behind… well, it’s simply not realistic. She comes across as an entirely selfish madwoman, not likable at all, and I hope she feels the full extent of the law, if it even exists in that crazy world of hers, or some justice of some kind, in the form of karma. Anything that makes her pay, and forces her to examine the path of emotional, mental self-destruction she’s taken.
Poor little guy. I feel for him so much. I want to rescue him.
The same way I rescued that one guy one time. His life was truly not worth living, so I shrank him and gave him a new one. It made me so happy to do that! The first few days were nothing but a joyful blur of laughter, happy tears, and screams. I can’t recall all he said to me, but I’m sure he did nothing but express gratitude at the beautiful expression of my caring for him, by extracting him from his job, his life, his family, his friends. Those things sound so empty when I write them… don’t they. And his life from then on, so full.
Anyway, yes. Lady’s mad crazy.
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What if I told you she eats him? Would you be into that?
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IF:
“eat
ēt
verb
verb: eat; 3rd person present: eats; past tense: ate; gerund or present participle: eating; past participle: eaten
1.
put (food) into the mouth and chew and swallow it.”
NO!
IF:
“2.
to consume as if by devouring gradually”
YES!!
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You vore freaks, I’ll never get you.
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