Saida and Miss Flint

“As I told you on the phone, there aren’t any records of dealings with your…organization.” Saida regarded the shorter mouse woman dubiously through the apartment’s doorway. “And this isn’t the time or place to get into this. How’d you get my home address, anyway?”

The mouse readjusted her wireframe glasses. While Saida was dressed in her casual jeans-and-tee after hours fashion, the woman at the door looked like she’d stepped out of an old school style magazine: black hair cut in a perfect bob, pressed grey skirt and matching blazer, spotless sky-blue blouse, high-heeled, open-toed sandals, and near elbow-length white gloves. “I’m good at getting information. It’s unfortunate your predecessor’s record-keeping skills were lacking, but I assure you mine are superb.” She tapped the accounting notebook in her left hand. “I’m sure we can work out a repayment schedule.”

“And as I told you over the phone, if you refuse to do this above board, I’m going to treat this as the shakedown attempt we both know it is. I am not someone you want to mess with.”

The woman’s brows lifted. “Are you threatening me, Miss Talirend?”

“A threat would be saying that if I were giant, I’d show you what cats do to mice.” Saida’s tail lashed. “And if you, or any of your associates, come back, I very well might be. Do we understand one another, Miss…?”

The mouse looked at her expressionlessly for several long seconds, then put the notebook in her purse. “Miss Flint. Yes, I believe we do.” She turned, and walked down the hallway toward the stairs without looking back.

Saida watched her go, frowning, then locked the door, walking back into the apartment. That seemed too easy. But, well, the mouse was just the polite face, the secretary. The next envoys would be real bona fide goons, which meant she’d need a strategy for meeting them as a real bonafide giantess.

She’d just sat back down on the sofa when the balcony’s sliding glass door shattered.

Saida shrieked, jumping back to her feet, staring at—a giant white-gloved fist? She barely had time to process it before the fingers opened and the hand came for her. She tried to leap away, and almost made it. Two of those fingers closed around one of her legs, though, dragging her back far enough for the rest of them to close around her body.

The mouse wasn’t gentle as she pulled the now relatively tiny cat outside, holding her fist—and the Rha—up to her face. “I told you I’m good at getting information, Miss Talirend, and I know that while you’re a natural giantess, you’re no size-shifter.”

Saida struggled in the mouse’s grip, her head barely poking out from the fingers, as the giantess slowly straightened out of a crouch. She easily stood Saida’s natural height, maybe taller, towering over the mere three-story apartment building.

“Now,” Flint continued, “I wouldn’t have been so displeased about your refusal to work with me if you hadn’t made it sound so…final.”

“I-I didn’t mean—”

She opened her hand, letting the cat fall about ten feet onto her other glove. Saida shrieked again, and clung to a finger, tail flicking wildly.

“Come now, we both know what you meant.” Miss Flint closed her thumb and forefinger around Saida’s right paw, knocking that sandal off, and hauled the cat up to dangle her upside down in front of her glasses. “But are you really the type who would eat me?”

“No! No!” Saida shook her head, trying not to wiggle too much as she swayed dangerously in the mouse’s grip.

“I didn’t think so.” Miss Flint lifted the cat up even higher, tilting her head back. “I only hope, Miss Talirend, you’ll be half as delicious as the irony.”

Saida’s eyes widened as the mouse opened her mouth and lowered her toward it with cruel leisureliness. “Please—stop—” She braced a hand against the mouse’s nose, then against the huge gleaming front teeth as her view filled with the waiting, slick tongue, considerably bigger than her body. “Please! We can work–work something out—”

“Yes, let’s.” The mouse opened her elegant fingers, and Saida fell down against the tongue. It moved to pin her against the roof of the giantess’s mouth as the lips closed.

Before Saida’s eyes could adjust to the darkness, that tongue shoved her against the back of the mouse’s teeth. She yelped and pushed at it futilely with both hands and both paws, but she was powerless to keep it from sliding over her, sliding her around in the mouth. She’d lost her other sandal somewhere, too, not that she was likely to need it again now. Her fur quickly became soaked, and her breathing became ragged.

Flint let the little cat slide under her tongue, then flipped her up, still in her mouth, maneuvering her toward the back of the throat with tongue tip between her legs. Saida whined, trying—unsuccessfully—to keep from reacting by clenching her thighs. That earned her a tight crush against the mouse’s ridged palate again, holding her in place as the mouse swallowed. Saida’s ears popped from the pressure change as saliva rushed past her, and a shudder ran down her body, curling her toes.

The next shudder wasn’t hers: the giantess’s light laugh vibrated through her, pulling an involuntary moan from her. She found herself pinned once more for a second teasing swallow, and this time her shudder was even stronger, accompanied by a muffled cry against the mouse’s slick tongue.

Then Miss Flint tilted her head back all the way, relaxed her tongue and swallowed one final time. Saida slid helplessly down her throat.

“Marvelous.” Miss Flint’s voice grew less distinct to Saida as she splashed into the giantess’s stomach. “It was an absolute pleasure working this out with you, Miss Talirend.”