You're in your shower at the same time as you are every day, and the doorbell rings. You ignore it, at first.
But it rings again and again.
"Yeah?" you say opening the door while still dripping wet. A towel is wrapped around your waist.
It's a guy in delivery uniform: short sleeve shirt and short pants and work boots. He is holding a package
and a clipboard.
"Sign here!" he orders thrusting an electronic pen on a wire into your hand from his gloved hand.
You take the pen and hold the metal clip board with the other. ZAP! Current races through your body.
Everything fades to grey as you fall. You feel your towel coming loose, but that's the least of your
problems.
You come to, but you're naked and bound in saran wrap or some kind of clear plastic wrap from head to toe. You
try to break free, but it's too strong. You shout into the plastic covering your mouth. At least he punched
holes in the plastic and stuck plastic straws up your nostrils so you can still breathe. He has set up a weird
looking electrical device which he plugged into your outlet. You stare at the uniform. It's not UPS. The
patch reads "OOPS" and under it "Over Ocean Parcel Service". He takes out his cell phone and uses the push to
talk feature.
"Hey, boss, got the fish, ya ordered, but I wasn't sure how you wanted him fried."
You stare from him to the electric gear. And start sweating even more.
"Small fry," chuckles the delivery guy, "Right, boss."
He fastens heavy metal clamps to your big toes which are bound together, and to your nose. It makes it hard to
breathe, and you wheeze and whistle through your nose as you struggle to get air.
The machine is humming as it charges up, and then he adjusts a rheostat. You feel the current making your body
tingle all over. He carefully watches the gauges. You feel so horny, what is that current doing to you? Then
his hand hovers over a green button on the device. He watches closely the gauge, and then he slams his hand
down on the button. You feel an orgasmic surge. The clamp releases from your nose and toes, and you're free of
the plastic wrap too. You seem to have been transported to a plastic tent or dome, and it's collapsing. You
run toward what you hope is an exit as it slowly deflates on top of you.
Only when the plastic is ripped away and you see the giant hand do you realize that you've been shrunk by the
delivery man. He grabs you and without explanation packages you in a box with air holes and puts you in a
larger brown box that he tapes shut.
You hear his voice muffled by your packaging as he calls to report, "The special order is ready for
transport."