By Sneakyk*
The K9 unit. The K9 unit. The K9 unit. You managed to get the attention of the police, and the first thing they saw when looking at your tiny, helpless body was that they should use you as training fodder, perhaps even a treat, for a bunch of police dogs? You've heard of police brutality, but you never thought you'd have to worry about your defeated and digested body passing out of a giant police dog's anus along with the rest of a dogturd while his female handler cracks a bathroom joke and readies a doggy bag.
Rather than stupidly wait for your fate, you decide to plan your next course of action carefully. The police officer, oblivious to your humanity, unwittingly gave you a tip-off to escape her plot to convert you into a dog training tool. Staying here would just be waiting for this 'Peggy' to toss you away for a dog to chase and kill. But how exactly are you going to get out?
You begin exploring the dark interior of the container, only to find that the curved walls deny you any progress forward, aside from the hole in one of them. Stowing away in the mysterious hole sounds almost tempting, but it smells suspiciously similar to a dessert. A simple nibble against one of them confirms your suspicion. These are definitely some form of pastry. Donuts? It's practically a cliche, but you wouldn't be surprised.
For now you sit in the darkness, having no viable way out of the box for the time being. You hear the police officers occasionally chatter together, only barely interested in the missing persons case they're investigating. The irony of them having already found the missing person they're looking for and just refusing to acknowledge it is not lost on you. It's actually quite infuriating. But what are you to do beyond stew in impotent anger at these oblivious gods? As they speak, they occasionally speak over the police radio, using heavily jargoned language you are far from accustomed to.
Eventually they arrive at the first destination . You feel a bunch of shaking, followed by the box opening up. The female officer's feminine hand reaches down for what is now quite obviously a jelly-filled donut. You consider boarding it, but quickly remember where the first stop is. Diapertown Daycare. If you're to hitch a ride out of the vehicle, you'd best wait. And so you allow the woman to pluck the enormous jelly filled donut out of the container and seal it back shut.
The removal of the first of the four donuts in the 2x2 box has freed up a lot of space among its interior. You venture out to the corner of the box and probe it for openings. You spot a tiny crack in one of the far corners and consider slipping out of it, but realize that it might be for the better that you don't. If you escape now, you'll still be in the squadcar. If they perform a thorough search for you once they arrive at the station, you would be recaptured and would have little time to act before getting taken to the hounds.
You rest in the box for now, allowing the woman to return. The vehicle soon roars into motion, and they begin to make their way to the next stop. As they take a turn, you hear a terrifying dragging noise nearby, and realize that a donut is rushing right towards you. Drat! the removal of one donut freed up enough room for these things to start shifting around! You rush away from the donut, miraculously and narrowly avoiding getting crushed beneath the simple treat. You find yourself back in the center of the box, shaken, but better prepared for what is to come.
The donuts shift a few more times during the journey. With the donut box interior resembling a basic sliding puzzle, only one donut moves at a time, and staying near the center helps you avoid the passing donuts. Eventually the lid opens once more, the male's hand coming down to take another donut. Now both of the donuts begin to shift , and you are left taking shelter at the edge of the box, cowering and quivering as the donuts slide back and forth.
Eventually they stop once more. This is their last stop before the police station. Your best chance to give them the slip. You climb your way up towards the top of the strawberry scented donut. The donut itself is not strawberry flavored, but rather it has a layer of cream frosting up top. You quickly bury yourself among the frosting, knowing that it is your best chance at avoiding detection from the officers.
The box opens up. The woman's hand descends for the donut, and it is sent skyward , stopping just below her chin. You cling tight to the donut as the police officer opens up the door, then boldly dive off of the donut before she can bring it up to her mouth. You feel a brief sensation of weightlessness before a gut wrenching sensation overtakes you as you plummet towards the asphalt of the parking lot below.
Not sure if your tiny body can take the drop without crumpling or bursting, you flail your arms about in near total terror. But you maintain enough composure to reach forward when you find yourself descending for the woman's skirt. You cling a the fabric of the officer's skirt, your body continuing its descent in spite of your grip. You hear a sound not unlike a zipper being pulled as your body slides down her skirt. You wince in pain as your body descends, a mild friction burn forming on your tiny palm in spite of your tiny mass. But you manage to pull it off. Right before you reach the bottom of her skirt, you slow your descent to a halt and get a grip on it with your other hand.
The woman's footsteps quickly upend this balance. As she steps up onto the curb your right arm slips loose from her skirt, and your left arm nearly loses hold as well. You struggle as hard as you can to cling onto it as she approaches the glass front-end of the ballet studio. The woman lowers her hand down, and to your surprise you see that the donut you clung to is already half eaten. Thank goodness you jumped off of it.
You soon hear the squeal as an enormous door opens, and you find yourself now in a distinctly cooler, air conditioned room. The police officer approaches a ballet instructor and briefly chats it up with her, explaining the missing persons case while her partner posts the notice to the front of the studio. You take the time to descend down the officer's pantyhose, at last making it to the floor. You sprint away from the officer, doing your best to clear some distance from her before she heads back out.
You breathe a sigh of relief once the officer leaves. At least you won't have to worry about getting given to the K9 unit. But what of your current situation? Looking around, you find yourself on a vast, vast, shiny wooden surface practically devoid of features, except for a few shoe-shaped outline taped onto various spots on the floor, no doubt for use as step charts. A mirror spanning the full length of the studio rests to the east. To the west lies a door , likely leading to a staff area. To the north is an opening no doubt leading to a changing room, and to the south is the entrance to the studio. A few women are congregated along the south end of the room, too distracted with their own conversations to pay you any heed.
Realizing that your nudity could be a liability, you begin to look for something to wear, only to realize that you appear to be wearing something already. Namely, a pink layer of strawberry frosting seems to be coating your legs, almost resembling a pair of pants. Though it does limit your movements, the frosting at least gives you a degree of modesty. You manage to free your lower legs from the frosting , but leave a pair of shorts worth of cover around your lower body for modesty purposes.
By the time you're done, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the locker area. Out emerges a blond haired Caucasian girl clad in a pink ballet tutu, white leggings, and a pair of pink ballet slippers. She appears to be a first or second grader, and is much smaller than the other giantesses... but she is still a titan compared to your tiny self. THUD. THUD. THUD. KTHUD. KTHOOM KTHOOOOMBLE. Her ballet slipper clad feet nearly deafen you as they approach your tiny form, threatening to crush you like a stray piece of candy. Her slipper passes right over you, narrowly missing your body, and she heads right for the ballet instructor.
"Mrs Keen. Um. Me and the other girls was thinking that we could have a farting contest after class. Would you be ok judging?" "Hannah... are you joking right now?" "No ma'am. I know it isn't very ladylike but my friends and I and the others thought it would be funny." "I am sorry, but I do not think I can do that. Thank you for asking, at least." "Yes ma'am...um. I'm ready to begin practice." "There's about a dozen girls who haven't changed yet. Once the others are out, we can begin." "Yes Ma'am." Hannah spins around in a mock ballet maneuver before heading back your way, the gigantic child no less imposing even after being turned down by the teacher. She heads from the southern end of the room to the western end , her path thankfully not crossing you again. The giant young girl plants her bottom down on the floor and rests her feet in front of her, an embarrassed look on her face.
A few options now lie before you. The staff room would seem like the obvious way forward... but Hannah is sitting directly in front of its door. Perhaps you could strike a deal with the young girl? The locker room comes with obvious drawbacks, but if you make it there you can safely wait out the practice. Alternatively you could try to head for Mrs. Keen and the parents... or investigate the step chart... or head out of this place altogether...