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Conundrum

by D.X. Machina

Part One

SATURDAY 2 OCTOBER 1999

0730 CDT

It was a thing of beauty. The world's first time machine. It was a phenomenal

development, and I got to test it. It was only fair--I was the guy who invented

it. I looked at the device--it was exactly as I had envisioned it--just a sleek

control panel 'round the wrist of its wearer, it would transport that bearer to

any point on the space/time continuum, instantly. It drew its power from the

real time machine, a largish, metallic contraption that filled a large chunk of

the room. We had tested it successfully already, moving backwards and forwards

up to a month, with no ill effects. But this was more ambitious. I was to travel

back to six distinct periods in American history, to see what could be seen. I

would spend no longer than three days in any time, and I wasn't trying to find

out anything new about the history. I was just trying to check the machine out,

and maybe sample a day or so worth of life in, say, 1919.

After I proved the thing worked, I'd turn it over to the historians. For now, I

wanted to be the first human ever to travel in time. It was worth the risk.

"Are you ready, Dr. Michaud?" said Dr. Christine Nicols, one of my most valued

assistants. Christine was a few years older than I was--she had turned

thirty-two this year. She was beautiful, with long, straight brown hair and

forest green eyes and permanent laugh lines. I had often considered whether I

should approach her on something other than a professional level (I think she

was interested), but I was too intent on building the time shifter.

I looked around the room. It was the gymnasium of the local high

school--perfect, as it hadn't existed fifteen years before. We'd rented this

place specifically for its iron construction--it would contain the time field

perfectly. If everything went as planned, I would materialize in the middle of a

field fifteen years ago, and simply walk to a nearby hotel. There, I'd check in

using the 1981-series cash I had on me and after that, see the sites.

"Ready, Dr. Nicols. Let's see what's back there." I looked at the control

pad--it was set for fifteen years to the day ago--October 2, 1984, 7:30

A.M.--8:30, I corrected. They didn't have daylight savings time that late back

then.

"All right, Doctor. One last time, we have locked in your control pad. You will

be traveling back to 1984 for three days, then to 1979 for one day. You will

then travel to 1969 for three days, then 1954 for three days, and then 1939 for

one day, and finally one day in 1919. Remember, you are committed for the full

twelve days--there is no auto recall."

"I designed this thing, Christine. Let's go."

She smiled, softly. "I think you'll find this trip interesting, Matt. You're

clear to energize."

And so I did.

* * *

TUESDAY 2 OCTOBER 1984

0832 CST

It's odd traveling through time. You don't even know that you've gone anywhere.

One minute you're in one minute, the next minute--whumpf!--you're in another.

The second I pressed the energize key, the world shifted around me. I knew

immediately that something was wrong. Instead of emerging into an empty field

adjacent to a high school, I emerged into a bizarre forest. I say bizarre

because there were no trees--just tall grasses, ranging from nine to fifteen

feet tall. I looked at my chronometer. No change--I was right when I was

supposed to be. But this didn't look right. I turned and started to walk--I

didn't care what direction I was going. I was beginning to regret not

programming an auto recall.

I wandered for an hour or so, and the cold October wind was chilling me.

Wherever I'd ended up sure wasn't what I'd expected. After a while, I finally

decided to bivouac and try to figure out where the hell I was. I pulled some of

the grass together and built a crude fort--it wasn't much to look at, but it

kept the wind off me a bit. I was more concerned about finding food--there was

grass a-plenty, but I hoped to find something a bit more palatable, at least for

the next few days.

God, I hoped my next jump wasn't this far off. I waited, and rested, and watched

my chronometer. Nothing happened until about eleven o'clock. It started a long

way away--a low, dull rumble from the north. It sounded like a herd of buffalo,

but slower, more ponderous. I turned to the north. I didn't see anything, but

the noise was getting louder. And louder. And louder.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a semi-sized object came crashing down to my left. I

ducked and rolled away, only to see another of the objects flashing down to my

right. I tried to get a grasp of what the thing was, but it passed quickly. Not

to worry--within seconds another of the objects crashed down. I did what I had

to. I ran for it. I ran as fast as I could, but soon there was a torrent of

these things, raining down, everywhere. I was in such a terror that I couldn't

figure out what they were until finally, one came down almost right on top of

me. The concussion threw me sideways into the side of another object, which I

hit hard, and slid down until I hit the ground. This one was stationary, at

least for the moment. Trying to shake off my wooziness, I turned towards it, to

try to figure out what it was.

It was the strangest shade of neon pink, leathery and not that tall--maybe only

eight or nine feet high. But it swept up in an oddly familiar way in the back.

It was raised, on a stilt. Some white cloth, rimmed with lace, protruded from

it. And inside the white cloth... Oh My God. ...was a long, shapely leg, which

flowed eighty feet above into a pretty, period skirt. It was a shoe. Belonging

to a girl. I couldn't have been over two inches tall. I was getting set to run

for it, when suddenly, an object dropped from the sky. It was eighteen feet

long, and thin, and I recognized it--the girl had dropped a pencil. Right at me.

I could feel myself fainting already, but instinctively, I dove out of the way,

and narrowly missed being crushed under the weight of a #2. I was laying there,

trying to catch my breath, when I heard an enormous gasp--more like a tornado

than anything else. I turned towards the sound, and saw the girl, staring at me.

A girl with her brown hair teased to infinity, as was the style in those days. A

beautiful girl, maybe a junior or senior, one who I'm sure drove the guys nuts.

But that was not what drew my attention. It was the forest green eyes, and the

beginnings of permanent laugh lines.

"Christine?" I muttered, before I fainted.

* * *

TUESDAY, 2 OCTOBER 1984

1303 CST

I awoke slowly, and painfully. I wasn't exactly sure where I was. It was soft,

and warm, and vaguely familiar. Funny, I couldn't quite place it. Dim, pink

light filled the area, and I tried to reconcile my memories. Giant women?

Bizarre. Especially a giant, teenaged Christine Nicols. No, more likely, my mind

was playing tricks on me. Maybe the trip through time had scrambled them, a

little bit. This was probably some sort of psychotic fantasy, like Bruce Willis

had in 12 Monkeys. Probably.

I tried to get to my feet, and found the ground yielding to my touch. Yielding

in an altogether pleasant and familiar way. I tried to place it, but couldn't,

quite. All of a sudden, I felt a little bit of an earthquake. The ground around

me began to sway to and fro, and I felt less like moving and more like staying

right where I was. It was a strange earthquake. The ground shook in a rhythm,

beat-beat-beat-beat. I'd never heard of an earthquake doing that before. After

about a minute, the tremor stopped, and I rolled over on my back--and knew

exactly where I was.

The sky above me picked that moment to part, and I looked backward and up at the

chin of Christine Nichols. She smiled down at me like a goddess--I recognized

the smile. Carefully, she picked me up, sliding her left hand into her ample

cleavage and under me. She lifted me to her face--a beautiful face, the same one

she had now, and said, "GOOD, YOU'RE AWAKE. YOU GAVE ME QUITE A SCARE THERE,

LITTLE MAN."

My mind raced. Back to a time when we had had an accident at the lab. She had

said that then--those exact words. And giggled. And wouldn't tell me why.

I stared up at her, and said, "Christine--"

Her eyes grew wide. Mine probably did, too, as I realized what I'd just said.

"HOW--HOW THE HELL DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"

"I--it's a long story, Doc--Miss Nicols. I'm sorry--my name is Matt Michaud.

It's nice--to meet you."

She raised her right eyebrow at that, but said only, "I'VE GOT TO GET BACK TO

CLASS--I FELT YOU MOVING AND WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY. DO YOU MIND

BEING WHERE I PUT YOU?"

"No!" I said, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "That was--just fine. Just fine."

"WELL. ALL RIGHT, WE'LL TALK LATER." With that, she lay me back in her ample

bosom, and buttoned her blouse above me. This was becoming a conundrum.

* * *

I remembered it well, the first time we'd met. I had just gotten my doctorate in

Quantum Physics. She was already established at the University of Minnesota.

"Matt Nicols?" she said, her hair falling about her shoulders, her body clothed

in a summer dress that was probably too immodest for an Associate Professor, but

I doubted anyone complained.

"Yes, do I know you?" I replied, dully.

"In a way," she dimpled. "My name is Christine Nicols. I'm a professor in the

department here. Tell me, do you have any--unusual--ideas on the burner?"

After a few hours of talking and drinking, I brought up the idea of the time

shifter (I won't go into the details--I want to keep this under 4000 pages). She

was the first person who ever heard the idea to say, "Yes, yes. I think, Dr.

Michaud, that that might just work. Would you like someone to help develop it?"

That was four years ago. We'd worked on this during off-hours, scraping together

funding from a thousand different groups. But it'd worked. I couldn't have done

it without her. The only thing I ever wondered was why she had the faith that

this could be done.

And now I knew. Because I'd come back to see her once before.

* * *

TUESDAY 2 OCTOBER 1984

1507 CST

I lay in her breasts for some time, allowing myself thoughts I hadn't allowed

myself about her. Not necessarily her younger self, although she was a beautiful

teen, but her older self. I decided that when I got home, I was damn sure going

to take this beyond the professional level. She'd sought me out for some reason.

I didn't think it was because of time travel. Finally, the skies above opened,

and a hand scooped me up and set me on the counter.

"HI AGAIN. ENJOY THE RIDE, MATT?"

"Um--yeah. Thanks, Christine."

"NO PROBLEM. YOU ARE TOTALLY AWESOME--I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE SO TINY! SO HOW DO

YOU KNOW ME, ANYHOW?" I thought for a minute, and decided that causality could

only be hurt if I didn't tell her, so I said, "I'm from the future. I know you

there. You and I work together."

"NO...WAY! HOW DID YOU GET SO SMALL? IS EVERYONE TINY IN THE FUTURE?"

"No--I don't know how I got so small. Probably something to do with the time

traveling. I'm the first one ever to do it."

"WOW! SO, LIKE, I WORK ON A TIME TRAVEL PROJECT? THAT IS SO MONDO RAD! AND I

WORK WITH YOU? ARE WE, LIKE, DATING?"

I was taken aback by the question, but straightened myself out. "Uh--no, no,

we're just good friends. Look, I don't want to tell you too much..."

"RIGHT--I KNOW, YOU'LL INTERFERE WITH CAUSALITY, THUS CREATING UNINTENDED

CHANGES IN THE SPACE/TIME CONTINUUM--IF I KNEW TOO MUCH ABOUT MY RELATIONSHIP

WITH YOU, FOR INSTANCE, IT MIGHT LEAD ME TO TAKE ACTIONS THAT I WOULDN'T

OTHERWISE TAKE. QED"

I let my jaw slowly rise from the floor. It was obvious that whatever her speech

patterns, this Christine was as intelligent as her future counterpart. I suppose

that shouldn't have come as a surprise, but I was used to the older Christine

talking about space/time continuum preservation. I was a bit surprised to hear a

high school Junior in the throes of valspeak mentioning it.

"Exactly," I finally said. "So you understand if I'm a bit vague about the

future."

"OF COURSE," she said, dimpling. "BUT I KNOW TWO THINGS."

"What's that?"

"ONE, YOU ARE PRETTY CUTE--I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT KNOWING YOU'RE OUT THERE, I

WON'T TRY TO FIND YOU. AND TWO, YOU CERTAINLY DIDN'T MIND RIDING AROUND IN MY

BLOUSE, SO I THINK THAT EVENTUALLY, WE WILL GET TOGETHER."

"Well, maybe you're right."

"IN FACT...MAYBE WE COULD GET TOGETHER NOW."

"Uh...how's that?"

"WELL, YOU SEE, I THINK YOU'RE JUST ABOUT THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN. AND I

DON'T SEE HOW IT WOULD BE WRONG FOR US TO MAYBE MAKE OUT OR SOMETHING. AFTER

ALL, SOMEDAY, WE WILL BE LOVERS." She leaned in slowly, inexorably, until her

lips hovered a bare half-inch above my head. Her sweet breath was my

atmosphere--I breathed her in with every inhalation--and she whispered, quietly,

"UNLESS, OF COURSE, YOU DON'T WANT TO...."

My mind was racing. How could I not want to? This was Christine, with whom I was

more and more convinced I was in love--and this was that woman, at her physical

peak, and she wanted to make out. How couldn't I? Sure, there were continuum

issues, but damn it, this was a one hundred eighty foot tall Christine and I was

not going to miss this opportunity.

"Well if you mmpfh--" I didn't get to finish, as a set of lips was pressing

softly against me. They were exquisite, warm and pink and soft, and I kissed

them back. I don't think my kisses were felt. I don't think Christine cared. She

lifted me up and carried me into her bedroom, locking the door behind her. We

went to her bed, and she sat down, indian-style, with me in the center of her

legs. I could see her white cotton panties ahead of me, smell her sweet young

womanhood. Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her delicious breasts.

"COME AND GET IT, LITTLE MAN," she said with a wry smile.

I needed no further encouragement. I clambered up her inner thigh, and came out

on top of her lap. She lay down, and her stomach was spread in front of me,

capped by beautiful hills. I walked determinedly towards them, pausing only at

her navel, which I ran my hand softly around. The ground beneath me quaked--she

liked what I was doing. I moved on, towards her hills. I reached them and

climbed her left breast, above her heart. I could feel its rhythm shaking the

breast slightly with every beat, could feel it rising and falling with every

breath.

I climbed quickly up the soft, yielding flesh, reaching her nipple. I caressed

and kissed it, and was only a bit surprised when she pressed her hand down on

me, gently, urging me forward....

Suddenly, she stopped and sat up. "OH NO! I FORGOT--I HAVE TO MEET SHERRY AT THE

MALL!"

I dropped into her hand, trying not to curse. Damn Sherry, whomever she was.

This was getting good. I started to mumble something, but Christine cut me off.

"I TELL YOU WHAT, LITTLE MAN--I THINK YOU'LL FIT INSIDE ME WITH NO PROBLEM. I'LL

BE REALLY CAREFUL. BUT WE'VE GOT TO GO TO THE MALL, AND I DON'T WANT TO STOP

FEELING LIKE THIS. WE'LL REALLY FINISH UP LATER, OKAY?"

"Uh--" I said, not sure what she meant by "inside" her.

Then, without warning, her hand and I dipped below her skirt. I watched in

fascination as she pulled her panties to the side and carefully spread her lips

with her fingers. With one quick shove, she pushed me up into her womanhood. I

could not hold back any longer--I ejaculated, hard, and sighed as the world

turned to black, and slowly began to move. I sat there, drinking in her smell,

trying to stay in one little area I found where there was no pressure on me

ever. It was exquisite. Not the time travel adventure I'd expected so far, but

interesting nonetheless.

TUESDAY, 2 OCTOBER 1984

1642 CST

Okay, so there's no possible way that that day could've gotten any weirder. It

started off powerful strange as it was--after all, it's not every day that you

travel fifteen years back in time. Then to meet my closest compatriot as a

two-hundred-some-odd foot tall teenager, spend the afternoon making love to her

(as best I could under the circumstances, anyhow), and finally to be inserted

like a tampon into her most private of parts--well, I feel sure it was the

strangest string of events I'd ever been a part of.

We were at the mall. At least, I assume we were--I really wasn't aware of

anything too much outside of my immediate surroundings. (I wondered: is this the

fantasy Prince Charles related to Camilla Parker-Bowles, when he said, "I want

to live like a tampon in your trousers?" If so, I could understand the

inclination, if not the fact that he'd passed up his wife for Camilla

Parker-Bowles.) As it was, I lay there, lazily aware of Christine, surrounding

me on every side, and I thought about the future.

* * *

"You know, I like first meeting stories. How people got to know each other, what

they saw in each other that led them to be friends, or lovers, or enemies. You

know what I'm talking about?"

She was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and she had her hair pulled up into a pony

tail. We were working on calibrating the field generator, and she looked lovely.

It was a year and a half ago--or thirteen and a half years from now.

"Mmm-hmm. Hand me a pliers--it looks like the alignment's off by a couple of

degrees."

"For instance, take you and I, how we met--it led to us being here today, eating

Sawatdee at 10:30 on a Saturday night, trying to make this dream of yours a

reality. And trust me, if I didn't know for sure this was going to work, I'd be

off doing anything but this right now--no offense."

"None taken. But we don't know it'll work. And besides, I wasn't that

persuasive. I just babbled on and on about loopholes that present themselves at

quantum levels, as I recall."

"That wasn't the--erk--I mean, you were, ah, very persuasive. Trust me, I knew

the minute you told me where you were from--I mean, you told me you were

developing a tine--time machine, I knew we'd end up here. And I know that we'll

be successful."

"Well, you're the reason this project is still going, Tina. If not for your

optimism, I'd've given up long ago. I just can't believe I was all that

interesting the first time we met."

"Oh, trust me, Matt," she said, smiling innocently, "you were the most

interesting person I'd ever met."

* * *

Strange. I missed her. Oh, she was all around me, but I missed her future self.

Although her present self had something to recommend it.... Daylight broke

through, and a pair of fingers gently coaxed me from my hiding place and out

into the open.

"HI THERE MATT! HOW WAS THE RIDE?"

"Great," I said, smiling, as she raised her hand to her face.

"I THOUGHT YOU'D LIKE TO COME OUT FOR SOME FRESH AIR. THAT, AND I WAS WONDERING

TWO THINGS."

"What's that?"

"ARE YOU HUNGRY?"

"Absolutely!"

"WELL, I'LL GRAB YOU SOME DINNER. AND SECOND, WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET SHERRY? Free Games for Mac, Free Games for ipad and Free Games for Iphone, without in app purchases or something like that Free Browser Games

SHE'S, LIKE, MY BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD, AND I'D LIKE YOU TO MEET HER."

"Well...I guess so." I wondered what the implications of my meeting the

mysterious Sherry would be--but I decided to forget about it and go with the

flow.

* * *

TUESDAY 2 OCTOBER 1984

1733 CST

Cheryl Lyn Stevens was as pretty an eighties teen as Christine, but in an

altogether different way. Christine was brown haired, green eyed, built nicely,

done up a little like a Valley Girl, but in a way that made her look that much

better. Cheryl looked like Cindy Lauper on a bad hair day.

But she was undeniably pretty (especially when she was hundreds of feet tall),

and more interesting, she was undeniably familiar. Cheryl was one of our

sponsors, in the future. She was a venture capitalist--she'd made millions by

investing in Netscape, Microsoft, and Yahoo at the right times--and she'd pumped

money into the project for day one. Indeed, thanks to her funding, we were able

to keep the project going even in the darkest hours.

She had told me once, when I asked her why (other than her friendship with

Christine) she helped us, she said she had no doubt there'd be a return.

Besides, she'd said, she had already profited on the deal. I had wondered how.

As it was, she was bending down to get a good look at me. She smiled, and said,

"OH MY GAWD! HE IS JUST THE MOST ADORABLE THING I'VE EVER SEEN! THIS IS SO

TUBULAR! AND YOU SAY HE KNOWS YOU?"

"YES, FROM THE FUTURE--BUT DON'T ASK HIM TOO MANY QUESTIONS, HE HAS TO PROTECT

CAUSALITY."

"OKAY, JUST ONE QUESTION THEN. IS THAT OKAY, LITTLE FELLA?"

I smiled up at her. "Well, it depends on the question."

"ALL RIGHT--GIVE ME ONE THING I SHOULD LOOK AT IF I WANT TO MAKE MONEY IN THE

FUTURE."

She was a child of the eighties, all right. But what the heck--I thought I saw

how she had profited.

"Well, Ms. Stevens, that's something I probably shouldn't tell you, but I'd look

at the Internet."

"THE INTERWHAT?"

"Internet. A web of data shared between computers. Companies like Netscape and

Yahoo will be starting up around '93 or '94. You also can't go wrong with

Microsoft--they're gonna be huge. Just watch out for Apple, they're going to

tank soon."

"MATT," said Christine, a look of concern on her face, "ARE YOU SURE IT'S A GOOD

IDEA TO GIVE OUT STOCK TIPS?"

"Well, I wouldn't, but you see, Sherry ends up a principal source of capital for

the project--our project. I'm looking out for my own self interest here."

Christine smiled. "OH. WELL, REMEMBER, MICROSOFT, NETSCAPE, AND YEE-HAH."

"Yahoo," I corrected.

"WELL! THANKS, MATT. I'LL NEVER FORGET THIS."

Cheryl leaned down, and gave me a quick peck that nearly knocked me off my feet.

"NOW WHO'S UP FOR McDONALD'S? SINCE I'M GONNA BE RICH, IT'S ON ME!"

We had a nice time, the three of us. For a time, I almost forgot the size

difference. Well, not really, but I put it aside, and I got to know these two

friends of mine all over again. It's funny, how you can meet people and forget

they ever had a past. I was growing intimately involved in the past.

After dinner, Sherry took off, pausing only to whisper to me, "THANK YOU AGAIN

FOR THE TIP, MATT. NOW, YOU DON'T GO BREAKING TINA'S HEART, YOU HEAR?"

"I won't, Sherry," I said, sincere as I'd ever been. "I promise."

* * *

TUESDAY 2 OCTOBER 1984

2309 CST

The night was nearly over. Tina's breath had settled into the rythm of sleep. We

had done some more exploring--at least I had. I was right, Christine was in

great shape. I know--I saw every inch of her body. I was lying between her

breasts, trying to get my mind around what had happened today. Not that I had

any complaints, but I couldn't help worrying about my next jump. Would I shrink

even more? I didn't know, but I was concerned about being even smaller. Those

shoes had been pretty lethal--I'm lucky that Christine found me, or else I'd be

buried in a small mound of dirt outside the school.

Christine. We hadn't just made out. We'd talked. She told me how she wanted to

be a scientist--strange, for a girl in 1984 (heck, sadly strange for a girl in

1999). I told her she had to, that we wouldn't meet if she didn't, and she

sighed.

* * *

"I CAN'T BELIEVE I HAVEN'T PUT THE MOVES ON YOU YET!"

"What are you talking about? I'm laying on your thigh."

"NOT THIS TIME--IN THE FUTURE. WHY HAVEN'T WE GOTTEN TOGETHER?"

It was my turn to sigh. "Well, I don't think you'd have to try to hard. Don't

start eating bacon five times a day, but you're still very attractive fifteen

years from now. Maybe you wanted me to go back in time first, before you made

your move. Or maybe you just knew it had to be this way."

"RIGHT. SPACE/TIME. WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP! NO OFFENSE, BUT THE FUTURE IS WHAT YOU

MAKE IT, RIGHT?"

"I wouldn't fear paradoxes if it wasn't."

"A PARADOX CAN BE PARADOCTORED," she said, quietly, almost as if she knew of

such things. "AT ANY RATE, WE HAVE MADE OUT NOW--I SUPPOSE THAT'LL HAVE TO TIDE

ME OVER UNTIL WE DO AGAIN. TELL ME, HOW LONG WILL YOU BE HERE?"

"Two more days. Then I automatically get shifted into 1979."

"NO FAIR," she said, teasingly. "WELL, LET'S MAKE THE MOST OF THE TIME WE HAVE

TOGETHER, RIGHT LITTLE MAN?"

* * *

I dreamt I was an ant. My name was Adam. I was crawling along a vast terrain,

one which was vaguely familiar, when suddenly, the blow came from behind. As my

cyanoglobin poured out, I thought I heard Christine crying. Of course, I also

thought I heard someone saying, "Subtle Innuendo Follows...."

* * *

FRIDAY 5 OCTOBER 1984

0203 CST

It had been a marvelous two days. Christine took me with her to school--hidden

in her vagina the first day, hidden in her breasts the second. At night we made

love as best we could--I developed an appreciation for a woman's body that I?d

never had. And we laughed, and talked, and enjoyed each other's company. Despite

my lack of stature, it was the best I had ever felt.

But now--now--I could feel the clock ticking. Less than six hours, and I would

be whisked back to 1979.

I didn't want to go back; I wanted to go forward, back to 1999. But I

couldn't--it was pre-programmed. So I sat up, while Christine dozed next to me,

and cringed.

* * *

05 OCTOBER 1984

0830 CST

"ANY MINUTE, HUH?"

"Any minute," I said, glumly. I was sitting on a table in a Mister Donut,

contenting myself with a crumb of a creuller. I knew this restaraunt had existed

all the way back to 1966--with luck, I'd rematerialize at full size, sitting on

the table, and exit quickly.

I doubted it, though.

"I'M GOING TO MISS YOU, MATT. BUT I WON'T FORGET YOU."

"I won't ever forget you, Tina. I tell you what--I mean, just remember, fifteen

years from now, that....um...."

"WHAT, MATT?"

"Tina, I -- "

* * *

05 OCTOBER 1979

0832 CST

"--love you."

The words hung there in the air, separated by five years from their intended

recipient. Damn! I should have watched the time. I should have made sure that I

got those words out before I lept backwards again. I should really watch out and

make sure that forty-foot-tall cup of coffee doesn't get set down on me. Yikes.

I sprinted towards the napkin dispenser--it was the same direction that it had

been five years before. It was twice as far away.

I swallowed my fear as I reached it, and crouched low behind the basket of sugar

and cream. I peaked out at the new world, and I didn't like what I saw. Well,

that's not entirely true, because the first thing I saw was a four hundred fifty

foot tall blonde, sipping coffee and eating a house-sized chocolate donut. She

was pretty, despite the brown and orange outfit she wore. I had made it back to

1979. And I was less than an inch tall.

FRIDAY 05 OCTOBER 1979

0839 CST

Myriad possibilities ran through my head. There was obviously a reason I was

getting smaller with each time jump. After all, I was getting smaller; it was an

observable fact, for God's sake. f of x equals t times the product of one over

the product of ten times x divided by ten to the fourth power. It was almost an

afterthought of the time equation. A measure of reconstituting the jumper on the

other side. Almost an appendix, really. But I started plugging the numbers in,

with t equaling my original height, and x equaling the time I'd crossed. 1984-15

years. I should've been 1.84 inches tall. 1979-20 years. I should be about 8/9

of an inch tall. Observable fact. Memo to self-when I return to 1999, set

formula 1,9,3's value to one.

My reverie was broken as the table shook violently. The woman who was eating the

donut had gotten up from the booth and almost absentmindedly dropped her purse

on the table. I tried to decide what to do. Should I try to leave my current

hideout, between the non-dairy creamer and the napkin dispenser? I decided

against it. After all, I knew for a fact that this donut shop was at least forty

years old. If I stayed put, I'd be able to jump safely back to 1969. Where I'd

be about a quarter of an inch tall.. Safety was relative.

* * *

FRIDAY 05 OCTOBER 1979

1133 CST

I let out a sigh of relief as the last of the workers left the donut shop. For

three hours I had crouched, terrified, as college kids and truck drivers had

made this booth their temporary home. Then, when the store finally closed at 11,

the fifty-year old manager decided he needed to clean the booths. Never mind

that this booth didn't appear to have been cleaned since the Johnson

administration; he hauled out the cleaning solution and gave it a good spraying.

For a minute or two, I was afraid the chemicals would overcome me, or worse,

that he'd move the napkin dispenser. But luck was on my side; he didn't really

want to clean well.

Now that I was alone, I had a new mission: get food. There was a cache of donuts

behind the counter; for whatever reason, the help hadn't thrown it out yet. I

decided that, while they were probably fattening, they were better than nothing.

It was a long trip. Getting to the floor was tricky-I had to work my way down

the frame of the booth to its lowermost point, then jump the last six

inches-what seemed to be the equivalent of about forty feet. Happily, I found

that I was not even bruised-it seemed that I could fall farther at my reduced

size.

I walked what seemed to be an endless road before I found the break in the

counter, then had to climb up hundreds of feet of aprons before I reached the

counter behind the counter, then had to find a way into the thirty-five foot

tall box, before I finally reached Donut Nirvana. They were huge-enough food to

feed an army. I took a tentative bite out of the crueler nearest me. Heavenly. I

ate until I was full, and after a while, found a place to lie down and get some

rest. When I got bored, I went and ate some more. Finally, around nine or so, I

fell asleep. Well, this day hadn't been so hard.

* * *

SATURDAY 06 OCTOBER 1979

0400 CST

I awoke with a start. It was bright-way too bright for this time of the night.

What was going on? Suddenly, I heard the noise coming nearer. Oh, crap, I was in

a Donut Shop. They start making the donuts early. I ran pell-mell away from the

sound, only to run back into the pile of aprons. I turned, and saw two people

heading right towards me. Quickly, I darted into an apron pocket.

Suddenly, my world lurched; the apron was being put on. I fell to the bottom of

the pocket and looked up. I could only see so far, as a ceiling, which I quickly

realized was formed by the breasts of my wearer, obscured my view. I was about

at crotch level, and could feel her jeans rubbing against the back of my cell.

It was a surreal moment, and I was oddly aroused. But my arousal was secondary;

I had to avoid detection.

Carefully, I climbed to the top of the pocket-not an easy task in an apron

that's swaying to and fro. The woman was mixing batter. Huge vats of it, the

size of hangars. I tried to get a good look. I leaned out...

...and found myself falling. She had shifted, and I had lost my grip, and I was

falling to the batter below. Had the mixer gone one more second, I would have

been killed. Luckily, the motion that sent me flying was the motion that the

woman made to turn of the behemoth. I fell, and silently disappeared into the

ocean of dough. I coughed and sputtered, until I realized that I had fallen into

an air pocket. I'd be okay for the moment. The moment lasted about that long.

Suddenly, the bowl was tipped, and the dough -- and me -- was dumped into an

industrial-grade donut machine. There was no doubt about it, I'd be killed. But

fate smiled on me.

The woman overfilled the dough by just a little, and that was enough for just a

little-and me-to spill out over the top. Without care, I leapt...

...right onto a still-warm long john. I hit it at an angle, feet first, and slid

into it. I'm sure the hole I made was only a half-inch in diameter, if that. I

traveled through it about two inches, and lodged just below the surface. I

turned and tried to escape, just as a river of frosting sealed my entrance

route. I was trapped in the long john.

* * *

SATURDAY 06 OCTOBER 1979

0826 AM

I was terrified. I had tried screaming and hollering for help. Tried with all my

might to break through the frosting-fortified ceiling. Tried even to dig deeper.

All had failed. And for the past two hours, I had heard the rattle of the

tissue, getting closer and closer to me. Once, I had been lifted, only to be set

back down. My heart had stopped. The person who got this tomb of a roll would

never know I was encased within, until it was too late. Finally, the moment I

had dreaded arrived. I was picked up, and tossed carelessly-in a bag? On a

plate? Who knew? All I knew was that the end was near. I was really sorry Tina

hadn't heard my last words to her.

The roll was lifted, and I felt the whole thing buckle as its owner tore into

it. I cried, and shook, and then-

* * *

MONDAY 06 OCTOBER 1969

0832 AM

--I was falling. Falling free! I was free!

It took me a minute to realize-the time jump. The time jump, of course! I was

back in 1969! I was free! My freedom came to an abrupt halt as I slammed into an

immense plain that appeared to be made of denim. I struggled to my feet, dazed

and confused. My arms were leaden from my time of imprisonment; it was all I

could do to stand and stare.

I was on a plain of denim. To my right was another plain, same size, decorated

the same way-in enormous flowers, hundreds of feet in circumference. The plains

converged almost a football field away, and led into a flat, tan wall,

punctuated nicely with a navel, that led upwards towards a halter-top the size

of two circus tents.

It was 1969. I was just over a quarter of an inch tall.

Knowing that I'd have to be here for three days, and remembering the debacle of

the night before (or ten years in the future, as it were), I decided that I

should not stay in the donut shop. Instead, I charged towards the abdomen of the

girl I had alighted on. I ran towards her gut, but stopped at her pocket-At my

size, there was ample room. So I turned and entered the immense chamber.

Immediately my senses were assaulted with a scent familiar from my college

days-a joint, the size of a house. I tried to pull up, but went tumbling into

the butt end of the jay. I tried to right myself, but suddenly, the world went

spinning-the girl was standing up. I was going where she was going, wherever

that was.

* * *

MONDAY 06 OCTOBER 1969

1114 CST

I could hear through the paper and the fabric the sound of a college lecture on

history. It was a rather florid comparison of the Hundred Years' War with the

Vietnam Conflict. Not surprising: this was a time of dissent, and more than a

few professors had taken this tack. I found myself slightly high. Again, not

surprising; I was almost a third of the way into this girl's roach, and even

unlit, the stuff was potent. I found myself getting a bit hungry. And I was

struck by how funny this situation was-like a bad Cheech and Chong movie. I

mean, man, this was good shit, so good it seemed to go on forever, and ever, and

ever.. Was it getting hotter, or was it me? I coughed a bit on the smoke, before

I realized what it was-SMOKE. I tried to reconcile that with my present

situation-why would there be smoke in the middle of a joint? Hmmm, strange.

Can't think of a reason, unless.. ..unless..

Suddenly, the wind began howling at me. Actually, it began howling away from me,

and taking me and the smoke with it. It was right about then that I began to

suspect that maybe, just maybe, someone was smoking this joint. I thought that

was really funny. Not quite as funny, though, as when I reached the end, and

could see the uvula of the woman smoking up. That thing was weird, man! I tried

to reach out and touch it, and fell right out the end of the joint. By all

rights, I should have fallen into her mouth. But she chose that second to pass

the smoke to her friend, and I found myself falling, right into her circus-tent

sized halter-top. Crazy.

I don't know how long I stayed in my reverie, looking at her enormous breasts

and thinking how much her nipples looked like igloos (which is to say, not at

all, a concept I really found amazing). It probably broke about the time he

stuck his hand into my field of view and swallowed up her left breast.

Then things began to get weird. Without warning, the halter top disappeared,

which would have been a problem for me, save that she was reclining at this

point, so instead of dropping precipitously, I simply slid down her suddenly

moist abdomen, making a bulls-eye into her navel. The man filled my sky --

rough, ugly hair, connected to a rougher, uglier guy -- actually, he was

probably good looking, but I don't remember him that way. He was sucking her

nipples, licking her stomach, then licking somewhat downward, which caused the

world around me to tighten and stretch unimaginably. I could smell the woman's

scent now-it was amazing, overpowering, beautiful. Then, without warning, her

abdomen tightened in such a way as to send me falling out of her bellybutton,

and sliding down again, into a forest of hair and sweat and come.

He had finished his business for the moment, but she was still aroused. Her

vagina sat open, like an orchid on steroids, beckoning me to come on in. I

didn't want to, but he chose that moment to stroke her hair, and his index

finger casually bumped me, sending me flying into the pit.

I tried to right myself, but it was too slippery, and I was too deep. I would

have to wait for her to sit up. I wouldn't get the chance. Just as I had

resigned myself to wait, the sky above opened wide, and I saw it, full-grown,

waiting to snuff out my life. It was the man's penis, over one hundred feet

long, hanging like the Sword of Damocles.

I was so dead.

Giantess Stories: Conundrum  by D

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