Fourth Deconstruction by Aborigen, 21SEPT00

Once there was this married couple, and the woman was really hot with a totally excellent body, and the guy was some fat balding slob like you see in one-panel cartoons in the paper. Maybe he was really attractive once with a great job and he just went downhill, or maybe the woman was exceptionally stupid and thought she saw something noble and fine in him and it turned out the only fine thing in him were asbestos particles in his lungs but she thought she could change him into someone better, rather than simply waiting around for someone who was better because she couldn?t bear to be alone with herself, because society taught her that women are inferior and submissive and nothing without a husband. She swallowed it all hook, line, and sinker, even though it was a completely self-defeatist philosophy, and agreed to play along even though the chips were very obviously stacked against her, no bones about it.

Anyway, he abused her a lot by smacking her around and ordering her to do things like make food and do the laundry and stuff, while he sat around getting fatter in his wife-beater shirt and stained black slacks, watching TV with a newspaper draped over his legs, yeah, just like you?ve seen in those cartoons. He was a total stereotype. He?d smack her around all day and then wrap up the evening with, "Gimme sex, bitch." Evil, eh? You bet. He even stank like curdled milk.

So he?s, like, a bad guy and stuff. Then one day while she was out grocery shopping she stopped by the library and met an old witch/chemist who produced a secret ancient tome entitled, How To Shrink Down Your Abusive Husband So You Can Use Sex As Revenge. Not knowing what they would find inside they magically turned to just the right page and the old crone gave the poor hottielicious housewife a potion that had to have a magic spell recited with it, which the woman memorized since it was a stupid little rhyme that made Ogden Nash?s work look sophisticated.

She went home and poured the potion into one of his beers, ?cos he kept asking for beer all the time too, so she gave him the drugged beer and he?s like, "Whoa, something feels funny, what?s going on?" And then he shrunk down and his clothes didn?t so he?s this little naked pudgy wart sitting in the middle of a huge old recliner. So the woman took off all her clothes and picked him up and laughed at how helpless he was and set him in the middle of the kitchen table.

He started yelling at her and ordering her around, which was stupid since he was no taller than her hand was long. She slapped him and knocked him on his ass. "You can?t talk to me like that anymore because I?m all big and powerful and you?re a tiny little man and now I?m going to compare you to your tiny genitalia for a while." And then he cried out of shock so she slammed her hand on the table until he stopped.

She reached into a very convenient fruit bowl with many fruits and vegetables and other foods in it. "You see this tomato, honey?" she asked very, very sarcastically. "This is you if you don?t shape up:" and she squeezed it in her fist. With her bare hand she squeezed a tomato, and juice and seeds spurted from between her fingers and across the table and against the wall, and some hit the man. He cried and pleaded for her not to hurt him.

"Hurt you?" she laughed, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this strawberry, dear?" she asked, her voice again dripping with sarcasm. "This is going to be you if you misbehave:" and she crushed it with her bare hand and the fruity mess ran down her fist and onto the table. The tiny formerly-abusive husband cried in fear and pleaded for her not to hurt him.

"Hurt you?" she chortled, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this kiwi, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice heavily laden with equal parts rhetoric and sarcasm, especially. "This represents you if you don?t do what I say:" and I swear to God she crushed that unskinned kiwi with nothing but her hand. Juice and seeds ran everywhere, and the fat-ass mean ol? husband, shrunken down, began blubbering like a baby and begged her to please not hurt him.

"Hurt you?" she guffawed malevolently, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see these Saltines, darling?" she asked, her voice shot through with striations of strong sarcasm. "They?re, like, your bones if you think you?re going to mess around with me:" and she absolutely mangled the dry crackers in her fingers. Crumbs fell like rain from her all-destroying fist, and her pudgy bag-o?-abuse she called a husband started wailing for her to please not hurt him.

"Hurt you?" she chuckled darkly, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this uncooked spaghetti, bitsy-pookums?" she asked, way, way sarcastic-like. "This is what I?ll do to you if you?re naughty:" and she snapped it into bits, picking up the larger pieces again and again and breaking them up into smaller bits. Her tyrannical despot of a husband, now no bigger than an action figure, broke into uncontrollable sobbing as he begged her to not hurt him, please.

"Hurt you?" she snickered acidly, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this handful of chow mein noodles, stud-muffin?" she asked, so sarcastic you could puke. "I?ll do to these what I?ll do to you if you?re disobedient:" and she tightened her fingers around the pile of noodles and mashed them into crumbs. Her physically violent and now miniaturized spouse collapsed into tears of fright and begged, pleaded with her please not to hurt him, please.

"Hurt you?" she crowed hysterically, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this grade-A large egg, light of my life, fire of my loins?" she asked, and if you would?ve looked up ?sarcasm? in the dictionary you would?ve seen her face there. "This egg will now receive the brunt of my wrath like you will if you deviate from my orders to any degree:" and she simply turned her hand down and slammed the egg into the table, spattering whites and yolk in all directions, coating her diminutive barbarian husband in goop. He wept inconsolably, praying for enough mercy for her not to hurt him, please.

"Hurt you?" she howled with mirth, reaching into the fruit bowl. "You see this coconut, hunka-hunka burnin? love?" she asked, laying on the caustic sarcasm nice and thick just in case he missed it at some point. "I?m going to do to this coconut-?" but her fingers strained against the solid husk to no effect. "I?m going to? give this cocon-?" but though she knocked it quite violently against the table, it didn?t give an inch. "This coconut is going to get-?" but when she threw it into the floor it just bounced and rolled around a little bit. Finally she threw it into the living room and said, "Christ, what a messy goddamn table. How do these things happen?"

But she didn?t clean it up, she swiped at her husband and knocked him onto the ground. Due to some complex yet thankfully vague theory of physics he tumbled very slowly off the table and landed unharmed on the ground. He sprang to his feet and attempted to run away but she simply strode into him, knocking him over with her toes and then stood on him with both feet until his pudgy, doughy pale body squealed like a puppy?s chew toy. Then she let him get up, run away again, and would pinch his legs with her toes, kicking up her foot in the air and swinging him around haphazardly, laughing all the while. He screamed in terror, especially when she slipped and he sailed into the door of the china cabinet, bouncing on the ground a couple times before laying there, panting in fright.

"Oh, don?t be such a baby," she said derisively, and rolled him around with her foot. Then she picked him up and said, "You know what? I?m going to watch what I want to see on TV," and brought him over to the couch. She sat down and wedged him between her thighs, in her lap. He kicked and struggled but was so fat that it was nothing for her to clamp down on him with her firm, supple thighs, and all he did was get his feet tangled up in her pubic hair. "Oh, look, football," she said cheerily, and he stopped fighting long enough to check it out. She changed the channel with the remote, taunting him with, "Oops, too bad! Guess it?s the ?Lifetime Channel? for us." And she sat and watched a talk show, The Male Hatred Hour, stroking her husband?s hair idly all the while with huge, thick, soft fingertips.

When she looked down she noticed (over his enormous belly) that his penis had gotten quite hard, so she plucked him up by his head and thwacked his cock with her other fingers as hard as she could for the entire commercial break, then jammed him back down into her crotch for the rest of the show. When that was done she simply stretched out on the couch and began introducing his flimsy, weak body into her dry labia and vulva, forcing him past the unrelenting skin into her suddenly moist vaginal passage. After a few pumping thrusts into her vagina, she rested her thumb against the back of his head and drove his face brusquely into her clitoris until she got extremely excited, then began thrusting him harder and harder into her vagina. Eventually she stuffed the entire fat little guy into her cunt, and actually it filled her out something nice so she had no complaints.

Then the UPS guy showed up and delivered some videos he?d ordered. The woman thrust her breasts into his face and offered him her husband?s beer, which he drank down and then he too shrunk down. She set him down on the couch and lay on her front, pinning him beneath her tremendous breast until it completely covered him and he couldn?t breathe, just his tiny flailing arms showed from around her enormous mammary. When that joke exhausted itself she stuffed him also into her vagina, right behind her husband, so his face was shoved into her husband?s stinky ass.

Then the gas monitor showed up and even though it was a woman, the abused wife waggled her generous buttocks at the woman and brought her inside, then also gave her some of the tainted beer, shrunk her down, and left the woman to rest on her labia and to play with her clit, since nobody really knows how to please a woman like a woman. From inside the vagina she heard the two other guys? voices calling for help but she figured it was none of her business and was enjoying rolling the thick, aroused clitoris between her tiny hands, and the wife had no arguments either.

Then? I dunno, just some guy showed up and wanted something, so the woman took him in and actually had sex with him. He didn?t notice the tiny woman mounted on her labia, so the gas monitor got a nice little ride with the guy?s enormous cock thrusting between her tiny little thighs. But the UPS guy caught the head of the new guy?s cock right up his butt and he split in half, and the enormous cock forced the bloody chunks up to the fat abusive husband, who blocked most of the passage to the deeper vaginal regions. But that didn?t slow the new guy down at all, he just thrust harder and harder and crushed the evil husband against the interior walls of the vagina (though in actuality her vagina should have been able to expand quite considerably to accommodate both the engorged penis and her fatass husband). But then the wife gave the new guy some of the beer and he too shrunk down and fell onto the couch cushion between the enormous valley of the wife?s thighs and when he looked up he saw the merry ol? gas monitor gleefully massaging the insane but justified wife?s clitoris until it looked like a beachball, and then the mangled corpses of the two guys came out of her pussy and dripped down her thighs and then the wife laughed and said something that reflected some kind of sense of foreshadowing, like this was going to happen again and again. So stay in school and don?t do drugs!