Giant/Tiny and Vore Short Stories

Rescue

Author's Note: This was written for a voretober day prompt, "Rescue." Hope you guys like it :,)

"Just stay quiet and let me do all the talking," Leon advised.

Joey responded with a terse nod and fumbled with his tie. "Yes, of course."

"And try not to fidget so much. Stop looking so nervous. You need to relax."

Joey gulped. "Right." He forced his hands rigidly to his sides and schooled his features into a neutral expression.

Leon looked him up and down with a skeptical gaze. He rubbed his chin and heaved a heavy sigh. "That'll do, I suppose. Let's go." He opened the metal door in the side of the building behind him and began descending the narrow staircase. Joey glanced around at the dark, deserted streets, flanked by run-down industrial complexes, before following.

The cement stairs were cracked and worn, so Joey had to watch his feet as he lightly put his weight on each step. The overhead bulbs were stark white and flickered with a loud fluorescent hum at just the right frequency to give him a headache. He focused on the balding patch on the back of Leon's head in front of him to quell his rising anxiety.

Leon reached the bottom of the stairs, where another metal door awaited him with a keycard reader. He swiped his card and gave Joey a stern look before twisting the knob. Joey dropped his hands down, realizing only just then that his fingers were fiddling with his tie of their own volition. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to get them out of the way.

The door opened like a portal to a different dimension, revealing a world in striking contrast to the bland, dingy stairwell. Joey blinked and adjusted his glasses as he was hit with a blur of bright colorful lights amid a sea of green felt. The bubbly jingles of slot machines, accompanied by the solid clinks of coins and chips, rang out amidst the lower drone of masculine voices. Joey wrinkled his nose at the strong odor of cigar smoke and alcohol that hung thick in the air like a haze.

Leon trotted in with confidence, and Joey matched his gait as he coolly slid alongside him. He furrowed his brow as he scanned the rows of slots and pachinko machines, searching with urgency.

"Slow down, Joey," Leon muttered out the side of his mouth. "Take a deep breath."

Joey inhaled through his nose in an attempt to remain calm, but only succeeded in choking on a toxic cloud of smoke. His palms were sweating in his pockets and his heart was racing like a ticking time bomb. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a perky waitress with big tits and a very short dress that hardly covered her panties addressed him.

"Would you like a drink?" she chirped with an excessively peppy affect. She balanced a tray full of glasses on one hand.

Joey opened his mouth to decline, but Leon interrupted. "Yes, martinis for both of us please." Joey glanced at him questioningly as the waitress affirmed and scurried off.

"It would be strange for us not to drink here," Leon explained. "Or refuse a smoke." Joey nodded. "Besides, it'll help you loosen up a bit."

They kept moving. Joey restrained his powerful urge to march ahead with purpose, and allowed Leon to take him along a meandering path through the underground casino. As they strolled past the bar, the waitress returned with two drinks. Joey sipped his martini and absently stirred the toothpick with the olive, hoping for some liquid courage.

He couldn't help but notice that the clientele were exclusively upper-class men, sharply dressed in expensive suits and groomed to an immaculate polish. Joey had originally believed his disguise would be sufficient, but now he felt shabby by comparison, with his messy hair and dorky glasses. His suit, rented from a pawn shop, was ill-fitted, slightly rumpled, and permeated with the scent of dust and mothballs. Even the hulking security guards lurking on the fringes were better-dressed by comparison. He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously in a futile attempt to smooth down the stray locks.