"With respect, Mr. Kudo, I don't understand how you can deliver the results you claim. Those power-requirements are one thousand times lower than our current computer supplier. Forgive me, but I don't see how this is possible. To continue this discussion further, we will require a unit for testing." His words were almost dismissive, as if he expected them to end the meeting. The engineer next to him silently nodded, having moments ago whispered his skepticism to his superior.
"Mr. Okisama, I'm glad that I have fostered your interest. I assure you that our results are very very real." Mr. Kudo stood firm at the head of the boardroom table, a projector showing his presentation on the wall. The current slide showed a graph of results of a test where the Minivatech M-Rack consumed unbelievably low amounts of power, while performing the same computational workloads as competitive products. The meeting was being held at a massive datacenter facility, more than a million square feet of computers. Computers that the M-Rack would make obsolete. It was a delicate sell.
"Our product uses a manufacturing technology which is unique and unrivaled in the industry. I have asked you to bring your engineer evaluator to the meeting, because I intend to let you test the Minivatech M-Rack right here in this room." He reached towards his bag, careful not to seem rushed. This was the part Mr. Kudo liked best about sales. The big finish, where he's promised something so desirable to the client it's hard to believe and in moments he'd prove all his claims. Minivatech delivered this rush more than any sales job he'd ever had. He didn't know how their technology worked, but it astounded every client he'd ever shown it to.
"Excuse me sir." It was the engineer speaking up this time. "We will not accept a remote test, we need to evaluate the power consumption for ourselves. We can arrange for the freight shipment of ..." His words stopped short as he became curious about Mr. Kudo pullling a chunky metal cube from it's protective case.
"This, gentleman, is the Minivatech M-Rack." Mr. Kudo gently placed the five pound cube of computing wizardry onto the table, as he reached for the rest of his demonstration equipment, including a laptop and a power meter.
"Sir. You can't be serious. That little thing can't possibly have the computing power of an entire room-size computing rack." The engineer was skeptical, and had already stood to get a better look at the device.
"I assure you it does. Here," Mr. Kudo powered up the laptop, turning it to the engineer as he plugged it's networking cord into the side of the computing cube, "feel free to run any test you need to verify my claims. You can see the power meter on this readout here." He gestured to the display on the USB watt meter that was powering the cube. "If you don't trust this power readout, feel free to supply your own measurement device." Mr. Kudo turned his direction back across the table.
"Mr. Okisama, your engineer will confirm our claims shortly. The device is not only radically lower power than your current computing systems, but as you can see, it's also radically smaller. With our product you can fit more computing power than you have in this entire datacenter into this very room. At Minivatech we are not just selling computers, we are selling a radical rethinking of what is possible. We are selling the future." He could see it on their faces. This was going to be another sale and another big fat commission check.
-----
It was 8am, and Simon had just arrived for his daily shift as a manufacturing tech at Minivatech. He walked alongside his shift-mate Alvin, as they both headed towards the break-room. All the way from the lobby, Alvin had been yammering on about the new shift-lead they were supposed to get today. "I hear Kitsuri's a real hard ass. Japanese. Grinds people to the core. Higher productivity than any other shift-lead in the company. He'll make or break you, they say. Looks like he has a fucking hot secretary."
At the break-room, a gorgeous young woman stood poised inside the door, seemingly waiting for the last two shift members to arrive. She didn't flinch at Alvin's vulgar objectification, thought she clearly heard it. Simon couldn't help but look her over. She had jet-black hair, and sharp facial features. Her fitted grey tweed suit-jacket pulled tight over a white-blouse, yet her matching pants were straight legged and wide. The clothes accentuated how short and petite she was, yet still showed she had some womanly curve.
Alvin and Simon took their seats among a dozen other shift-members. They were all looking towards the door expectantly, wondering when their new boss would walk through it, when the woman un-wedged the door stop. It swung closed behind her, as she confidently moved to the middle front of the room, aside the desk located there. Something didn't seem right to Simon. Her body language wasn't waiting for someone to arrive, she was arriving herself. He got a strange pit in his stomach.
"I, am Miyoko Kitsuri." Her voice was feminine, yet confident, not a hint of squeak or scratchiness. "I am your new shift manager." The room boistered up with noise from the men -- the sound of chairs shuffling, grunts and gasps. "I know you have been expecting me, and have no doubt heard why I've been assigned to your group. Your team is falling behind, and I have a reputation for getting results." Simon found it hard to take this seriously. He had fifteen years experience with the company. This woman, this girl, had to be in her twenties.
"In order to function like a team, you need to have a leader, and that leader must have your full attention." As he looked around, only a few of his shift-mates were even facing the front of the room. He noticed a startled expression in one of them, and turned back to see why. Unbelievably, Ms. Kitsuri's hands were at her blouse, having opened the top-button and moving to the next one. "My methods are quite.. unconventional, yet effective." After her hands released the third button, she pulled at the blouse, spreading it to show off the top of plump tits and the edge of a black lace bra. "Meet your targets and..."
"Keith, you have to see this!" Keith was turned away, staring at his smartphone, and his friend didn't want him to miss the show. Keith turned to see Kitsuri walking towards the back, eyes intent on the man who had spoken out. Her state of undress held him from going back to whatever he had been doing.
"Be careful Mr. Zhu. Do not interrupt me when I'm speaking." She leaned over his desk, offering him a prime view of her new exposure. "You're already on thin ice. Cross me, and you'll find a new type of hell. I don't write termination letters. I'll come to your home and explain to your wife exactly what witty moment you felt was more important than providing for your family. Then I'll let you beg me to keep your job. If you seem sincere, I'll just dock your pay. If not, I'll fire you right there in front of her."
She stood, briefly scanned her eyes around the room. "That goes for all of you." Simon and the others in the front row were too busy checking out the shape of her ass to bother saying anything. She sauntered back towards the head of the room. "However, let's not dwell on the bitter side, I can also be very sweet." She stopped with her back to Simon, and ran her fingers lightly through Alvin's hair. "Become one of my top-performers, and I can treat you very well."
Then she turned around. Simon felt the sexy sizzle of her attention sear through him. "Mr. Chen, may I borrow your R-22 punchdown?" Simon didn't react at first, his mind having fallen behding as it struggled to integrate everything that was happening. She held her hand out towards him, and a few seconds later he realized he was supposed to do something. He reached for his tools, his hands fumbling through the kit until he found what she was asking for. He reached it out and almost dropped it trying to hand it over.
"Thank you, I'll return this shortly." She smiled, and quickly continued back to the front of the room, stopping in front of the large-wooden-desk. "It's come to my attention that some of you don't know how to use this device properly." She boosted herself up on the desk, and a moment later had slid to the middle, spreading her legs wide across the surface. She held the tool vertically at her crotch. "While I can certainly think of some other uses for this device, using it carelessly can damage the sensitive equipment."
Simon didn't know what to make of this. For the first time he could remember, the entire break-room was silent and focused front. She reached to the side, and produced a small bin of parts, which Simon could see where the R-22 jack-end and the wiring designed to attach to it.
"Now, pay attention as I show you how to use it properly."
-----
"BLOCK CHECK," someone shouted. It had been quite a week since the arrival of their new shift-manager, and the entire crew was in the assembly bay checking their final work on this unit. Each day she'd flaunted her sexuality to hold their attention. Each day she'd assigned personal aggressive milestones for each of them to meet. Each day they'd met or exceeded those milestones. Her unconventional-approach didn't stop in the break room either.
"On my way." Today she was wearing a black mini-skirt and blazer that was incredibly sexy even without states of undress. Ms. Kitsuni briskly walked by Simon and Alvin. "Careful Alvin. You can check out my ass as much as you like, *after* your fault-rates are up another five percent." They both knew why she singled him out. Another one of her process changes was to announce each shift-member's quality check reports. Alvin's were the lowest in the group.
Alvin grumbled to Simon after she rounded the corner. "What do I care? I plug and screw crap into other crap. I get paid the same every day. If a hot piece of ass wants to strut and bad mouth me a couple times a day, what do I care? She's just eye candy to me. In a couple years she'll be gone and we'll all still be building whatever the hell they build here then."
Simon couldn't argue with his logic. A few years back it was metal furniture assemblies. Today it was a room-size computer rack system. At some level the manufacturing work was all the same. Yet for the last week something was different. Productivity was up 28%, and even Alvin, pretending he didn't care, had increased his fault rate by 15%.
The shift whistle sounded in the build-room. Simon had just been killing time anyhow. His work was all done. All of their work was done. He filed in with his shift-mates as they made their way through the entry room door.
When they reached the break room, Ms. Kitsuri was dutifully implementing one of her new processes. The "exit-check" assured no shift-members left or lost any of their tools. Simon thought it was merely an attempt to make the team more disciplined, standing in line like a military troop as Ms. Kitsuri walked by checking their tool kits.
"Mr. Chen?" Her attention surprised him. After borrowing his punchdown on the first day, she hadn't even noticed him as far as he knew. He had to admit, he kind of liked the attention, even if he didn't want it -- seeing her stare up at him, the proximity to her. She was gorgeous. "Simon, your kit is missing the 110 Krone blade punch down. This is packaging day. Do I have to remind you how costly it is to leave anything un-accounted in the assembly room on minification day? If it ruins the machine at a customer site, it could cost the company millions."
Simon was mortified. He was a stand out performer on the team. He had never made a mistake like this. He bowed deferently, "I'm sorry Ms. Kitsuri. I don't know what..." She had stepped back, and was holding her hand extended towards the door in a gesture that required no explanation. Simon scurried past her, headed to find the tool he had left behind. Ms. Kitsuri continued her exit-check behind him.
----
In the process control room, the four operators were waiting patiently as Ms. Kitsuri showed up on a video monitor. "Exit checklist is complete. Please begin the minification process." On the screen she could be seen interacting with a computer terminal, where she was punching in her personal code and all-clear confirmation.
"Excellent. Initiating minification process," the control room lead confirmed. In a few seconds, a video feed of the assembly room showed spinning red warning lights engaging, basking the finished machine in swirling lights, and the entry door closing via mechanical control. Computer monitors in the control room illustrated a hundred variables of the process understood only by a select set of process engineers, and a loud hum started to echo through the building.
As the hum built, and built, and the video feed of the control room started to distort. The image of the machine curved and bent, as if pulled inward on itself. The hum grew louder as the process accelerated, and suddenly the machine was very obviously shrinking smaller on the monitors. Faster and faster it's boundary receded, while still wobbling in distorted shapes. Finally, a bright flash occured on the monitor, and the red lights stopped spinning. The mechanical door began creeping open.
On the other end of the video feed, Ms. Kitsuri had turned, ready to collect the minified unit. As the door finished opening, she entered the assembly room. While in comparison it seemed empty, in the center there was a small five pound metal machine no bigger than a lunchbox, shiny in it's newly constructed form. She walked to the center of the room, collecting the machine.
-----
Back at his family home for the night, Simon was eating dinner when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it." He stood from the table with his wife and children, and headed for the door. Upon opening it, he was surprised to find it was Ms. Kitsuri.
"I apologize Mr. Chen, I need to speak with you urgently." It was raining outside, and she was soaked. Without an invitation she walked through the front door. As she entered, she collapsed her umbrella and began to remove her drenched rain coat. Underneath she was wearing a purple silk dress that hugged tight enough under the bust to show more of his bosses' shape than he'd ever seen. Immediately his thoughts went to her warning. Had he done something wrong? Was she going to humiliate him in front of his family?
"This is very unexpected, Ms. Kitsuri. What is this about?" Having finally finished removing her drenched coat and hanging it on a nearby hook, she checked her dress, tossed her hair, and a moment later looked like she was headed out for a formal evening. Seeing this young woman come through the door had roused the curiosity of Simon's wife, and she entered behind him.
"Hello, you must be Gloria." Ms. Kitsuri held her hand out towards Simon's wife. "I'm Miyoko Kitsuri, your husband's shift-manager. I'm afraid I need to speak with him about an urgent matter at work."
"MISS Kitsuri? This is your new shift-manager?" Simon's wife turned to him with an air of suspicion and fuming that was unusual even for her. She turned to his shift-manager. "I don't know what kind of fool you think me for, but we are in the middle of dinner, happily married, with two children. Please leave, and never see my husband again."
Simon was mortified. He held his hands out at Ms. Kitsuri in an attempt to get her not to react. "Please, please, give me a moment." He tried to pull his wife away, but she wouldn't budge. "Gloria, this really is my new shift-manager, Kitsuri. I don't know why she's here, but this is not what you think it is." He hushed his voice enough to speak privately. "It's been enough of an adjustment for me. I didn't want to embarrass myself by telling you. I need to find out what she's here for or I could lose my job."
"Simon." Ms. Kitsuri tried to interrupt them while they bickered. "Simon. Please, Mr. Chen." Finally they both turned to face her. "No need to worry about that Simon, you're fired."
"What?!?" Simon was in shock. He was one of the best performers on the team. He was never late to work. He had a perfect track record for fifteen years with the company. "My entire career is with the company. How is this possible? I need to speak to your manager."
"I'm sorry Mr. Chen. I spoke with your coworkers, and they tell me this isn't the first time you've left a tool in the reaction chamber. I simply can't accept this kind of careless behavior on my team." She turned, reaching for her coat, abruptly preparing to leave.
"Please, please, Ms. Kitsuri. I assure you this has never happened before. Check my reports." He moved closer, trying to block her from the umbrella as she shook wetness off her still drenched coat. "They are lying, and it'll never happen again. There must be something I can do. Please, anything." Simon's wife's face was in shock. She had gone from suspicion, to anger, to surprise, and now to concern inside just a few minutes. As she turned, Simon lightly grabber her shoulder, wanting her to listen, wanting to reason with her. She turned, but the fury in her eyes burned right through him. He immediately removed his hand. "I'm very sorry. Please. My family. I need this job." She stood silently for a moment.
"I don't normally do this Mr. Chen, but I do have another position open. One with less responsibility. One where your careless mistakes won't jeopardize my career." Her demeaning tone was almost too much to take, but he was desperate. He had to provide for his family. He turned to his wife, her face in shock and embarrassment for him -- or was it embarrassment at him.
"I'm going to need an assistant. I hate clumsy new assistants, and your detailed knowledge of the company and procedures would avoid that. The pay isn't as good. Actually it's quite bad, but you could start immediately." Ms. Kitsuri hung her coat back on the rack as Simon stood in shock. Was this hope or a slap in the face? "You should know, thirty percent of your time will be taking care of personal matters. You'll be on call day and night, and we'll be spending lots of time together. Is your wife okay with that?" Simon looked over to his wife. She looked mortified, for herself, and for her husband. Still, she didn't object.
"If you're interested, I just have a few more questions, and a brief evaluation." She stepped close to him, intimately close. Simon felt something was wrong, something was very wrong. "I wear very delicate lace underwear." Suddenly Miyoko's business demeanor melted away, replaced by a over-confident sexiness. Her hand pulled at the neckline of her silk dress, exposing an edge of lace underneath. "You'll have to wash it by hand."
Simon felt his palms sweating. Miyoko was stunningly beautiful, and he couldn't help but admire the revealing view she offered. He also couldn't believe this was happening. He was so afraid of losing his job he was prepared to accept anything. Yet, her behavior was entirely unexpected and he didn't know how to respond to it. "I'll also need a massage once a day." She lifted her already short skirt and propped one leg on the foyer stool, spreading her legs towards him suggestively.
"Yes yes, Ms. Kitsuri, whatever you need. My husband will do it." Gloria was suddenly pleading his case for him. "He would be honored to serve as your assistant. He is an excellent provider for this family, and he will be an excellent administrator of your affairs, business and personal." Miyoko smiled in return.
"I'm glad to see you're wife is so receptive. Simon?" Her hands were resting on her thighs, pulling in the silk fabric. "I think it's time to move to the evaluation. You can start by massaging my clit... with your tongue." Miyoko was short and intimately close to him, but as she pulled back her dress, Simon could make out that she wasn't wearing any panties. "If you need help finding it, perhaps your wife can show you where it is." Her suggestion was even more shocking than her actions.
Simon turned to his wife, expecting her to be livid. It was then that things seemed even more wrong. His wife was already starting to kneel down, pulling his hand down in the process. She was enthralled with Miyoko. "No no Ms. Kitsuri, I assure you he is an expert clit massager - arn't you honey?"
Time seemed to slow down as Simon found himself kneeling down without conscious thought. Miyoko's naked thighs were spread, as she looked down at him wish satisfaction. She held her dress fabric out of his way as he found himself leaning in, her crotch increasingly filling his view. "That's it. Go to work Mr. Chen." He couldn't believe what was happening. His head was starting to hurt. He tried and failed to stop his tongue as it stretched towards her sex. He felt sweat pouring from his brow and the throbbing pound of something on the back of his head. Just as he was about to touch her skin, everything was gone.
-----
Simon found himself sitting up inside the M-Rack machine assembly. "How in the hell? Thank god, it was a dream." The back of his head was painfully throbbing. He tried to remember what happened. He remembered coming back in for a tool he left in the machine. It was next to his hand, so he had apparently found it. He must have stood up and unexpectedly clocked himself-out for a minute. He rubbed the back of his head where it hurt. "Wow, that's going to have a bruise."
He was still off-balance and stumbled a bit as he rose to his feet. He made his way slowly, heading out of the machine. Before he had even reached the edge, something wasn't right. He expected to see a wall and a metal door, but instead there was nothing. Just something unrecognizable far off in the distance. He was beginning to wonder if he was still dreaming. He stepped out of the machine.
Below him was a giant looking fake wood surface, opposite him there was a huge bookshelf. It wasn't huge, it was titanic. It seemed like a skyscraper sized bookshelf. Where was he? He slapped the side of his head in an apparent attempt to wake himself up, a gesture which just made his head hurt and throb more. Turning to his right he saw the biggest shock of all. Miyoko, dressed in her typically sexy business suit, filled his view. Just like the bookshelf, she was titanic, skyscraper sized.
Taking another look around, Simon finally realized the obvious. He had been in the M-Rack during the minification process! The world was not giant sized, it was he who was small. He'd only seen a finished and minified M-Rack machine once. Judging from that experience, he couldn't be much more than six inches tall. Suddenly, Miyoko noticed him.
"Ohh no!" An extreme expression of shock appeared on her face. "Mr. Chen? Is that you?" Simon had no idea what to do. He couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted this to be another dream. Miyoko reached for him. Tracking the movement of her huge hand disoriented him, and he stumbled, falling backwards. "Of course. Your exit-check. I sent you back into the machine, and then.... Simon, there is a tiny, itsy bitsy possibility," her hand gestured as if to hold something small between her fingertips, "this might be my fault." She cracked a smile, and seemed like she almost had to hold back laughter. Simon felt enraged. She'd ruined his life, almost killed him, and she was making bad puns about it?
Just then a loud voice barked out of a speaker box on her desk just inches from Simon. He put his hands over his ears to muffle the noise. "Ms. Kitsuri, you need to leave for your four-o'clock management meeting."
Miyoko reached towards the box, pressing a button to reply. "Thank you. I'll be just a moment." She returned her attention to Simon. "I can't miss this meeting. I'll bring up this situation with my supervisor. There has to be a process or a protocol or some kind of guideline to handle this kind of thing. In the meantime, you'll need to be somewhere safe and out of sight." Her eyes scanned around before she opened a desk drawer near her. A moment later, she reached towards him.
The whole thing happened so fast he could hardly process it. One moment he was sitting on the desk, the next moment he was rushing through the air. He could feel the odd shapes of giant soft fingers under his back, butt, and legs. Her huge thumb wrapped towards him, resting gently against his thigh. The desk surface seemed like it was five-stories below him until it finally dropped away, revealing an open-desk drawer an even more precarious distance away.
"I'm sorry about this, but you should be fine in here for the next hour. Just sit tight, I'll be back." He only half heard her words. His mind was in sensory overload. He was closer to her now, it seemed less than twenty-feet by his judgement, though it was actually closer to twenty inches. Her body was titanic, every contour of her shape setting off a mixture of recognition and shock in his brain. It also wasn't lost on him that her grip had tightened. He was thankful for the additional security given the huge fall beneath him, but it also meant her thumb was pressing into his crotch, and her nail was digging into his tummy - a confusing combination.
Before he could take it all in, she was lowering him down into the drawer, his perspective on her body distorting in entirely unfamiliar ways, the tall wooden space surrounding him. He felt the floor of the drawer, and sat watching giant fingers rise vertically away from him. He could tell that just her hand was taller than his entire body. He almost fell over as she pressed the drawer closed, incrementally cutting off the light and leaving him in total darkness.