Nervously, Dan ran his finger through his tangled red hair, questioning the decisions that had brought both himself and the woman behind him to this derelict warehouse so late at night. He was a typical high school student, eighteen and full of angst, but rather non-social by others’ standards. Whereas typical students would hang out after school or go to a virtual arcade, Dan spent his time working at a book store, reading historical fiction novels when business was slow; business was often slow, as most people read their books digitally nowadays. His favorite era was the late twenty-second century, a time of expanding technologies and corporate sabotage, a perfect setting for spy stories. He had been reading one such book when she had approached him, the raven haired woman of his dreams, asking after a book for her sister. Dan didn’t really remember what had first sparked their conversation, but by the end of his shift, Dan had found himself holding a small piece of paper with a number on the side.

How he had managed to garner Cynthia’s attention still eluded Dan; she was clearly out of his league. She was a slip of a girl: lean, athletic, and tan with eyes like emeralds the shone beneath a curtain of ebony hair. He was just some pale and freckled recluse. She had taste in fashion and had already been accepted into a prestigious college. Dan would likely seek out a blue collar job after graduating from high school. The numbers simply didn’t add up.

Perhaps as a result of the apparent disparity, Dan had felt the compulsion to pour everything he had into the relationship, as if to compensate. On dates, he insisted on paying for everything and worked hard to cater to Cynthia’s every need. In bed, Dan treated his girlfriend like a goddess. He was the very example of a loving, devoted boyfriend, which was why everything started to take a turn for the worse.

“There just isn’t any excitement,” a demur Cynthia had explained, cringing at Dan’s crestfallen expression. She had wanted to break up, but Dan insisted that he simply hadn’t been aware of her needs and was willing to meet them. However, Cynthia had expressed her doubts, explaining that she wasn’t sure she was comfortable revealing her desires. After hours of convincing, Cynthia had finally explained that she had a particular fetish, one that no man had been willing to satisfy.

Whether it had been love, hormones, or some mixture of both, Dan had hardly hesitated, ignoring the late hour as he led Cynthia to the nearest shuttle station. After a quick message home, explaining to her sister that she’d return late, Cynthia’s demeanor had seemed to brighten, and a little excitement had even begun to color her voice. After twenty minutes, the two had found themselves breaking into an unattended warehouse, seeking the means by which to satisfy Cynthia’s needs. Now, Dan found himself standing before the object of his girlfriend’s satisfaction.

Using a small flash light, Dan gazed at the machine before him. Surrounding a square platform, what looked like four satellite dishes pointed inwards, their broad rims easily reaching six feet in diameter. These were the resonators, programmed to shrink anything and everything upon the platform in what was now common practice in order to conserve storage space. It was for this device that the two lovers had broken into the warehouse, in order to fulfill Cynthia’s deviant desire to have relations with a miniature man.

Her desires stemmed from a lack of control, or so Cynthia had explained to Dan upon first revealing her fetish. She had spent her entire life under the control of others, driven to excel in all aspects of life and deprived of any freedom. While others had had the opportunity to hang out with friends and simply be a kid, Cynthia’s father had pushed her to study, leaving her feeling helpless and without control of her own fate. Cynthia’s habitual disgust at being controlled had led to the failure of all her previous relationships, and an overall disinterest in men in general. They were just too prideful and too insistent on making all the decision, which is why Dan’s reclusiveness and blatant disregard for what was considered “normal male behavior” had interested her so much. Still, while having a man who was willing to share control was satisfying, it had turned out to be dreadfully boring. In order for their relationship to work, Cynthia needed more excitement. Cynthia needed to have total control, if only for short period of time. In her mind, the only way for her to accomplish that was for a man to place his entire well being in her hands and to trust her without reserve.

Swallowing hard, Dan turned to face Cynthia who stood at the controls with a flashlight of her own.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Dan’s voice sounded a bit tight at his nervousness, almost squeaking as he spoke.

“They use this machine to shrink all sorts of fragile goods, so you won’t be injured in the process. The only reason they don’t use this for animal storage is because the animals get cold too easily when they’re that small, and it’s too difficult to keep them at the perfect temperature. We won’t have to worry about that though. I’m already prepared to keep you warm.” Cynthia spoke the last bit with a blush and a wicked smile, biting her lip in anticipation. Her expression set Dan’s heart racing, and he felt his pants tighten in response. Emboldened by his girlfriend’s confidence, Dan set his flashlight down and stepped onto the platform, preparing for the experience of a lifetime.

Pausing for a moment, Dan took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. Was he being too reckless? Cynthia had only told him about her fetish a few hours ago; he hadn’t really had too much time to digest the idea. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so hasty in insisting that they act on her desires immediately. However, before he could express his hesitation, the shrinking machine flared to life. Dan’s mind went blank with dizziness as stars glittered in his eyes and the world suddenly became a very faraway place. His eyes glazed over and darkness enveloped him.

As awareness started to return to Dan once more, the first thing to intrude into his mind was the chill. His body felt like ice and shivers wracked his body, alarming him and causing Dan to jerk upright. A jolt of stiffness ran down his back, causing him to groan. However, Dan didn’t hesitate for a moment as he forced himself to his feet, shocked at how cold he had gotten.

“Dan?” Dan was nearly knocked over by the sudden blast of wind which assailed him, along with the accompanying shock of noise. It took a moment for him to recover from the shock, but as he did he began to take notice of his surroundings, as well as the figure which towered above him.

Illuminated by the meager light of Cynthia’s flashlight, two white flats rested to either side of where he stood. As Dan’s eyes followed the skinny jeans which sprouted from their tops, he took in the curve of Cynthia’s squatted thighs and the way her butt drooped behind her calves. Swiftly moving upwards, his vision bypassed her dark blue jacket before Cynthia’s shadowed face came into view.

“Good, you’re alright.” Despite the warmth and relief which showed upon Cynthia’s face, Dan couldn’t help but flinch. Her voice was just so loud, and in his shrunken state, his eardrums perceived her high, silky voice as deep and low. Seeing her lover flinch as she spoke, Cynthia quickly fished around in her pocket, pulling her phone free and quickly sending a text. A moment later, Dan’s own phone emitted a sharp peep from within his pocket.

“Are you alright?” The deep, black letters glowed darkly against the white background of the text. Still in shock at the whole experience, Dan moved to post a response, but quickly found that his hands were shaking too much to accurately type. Suddenly reminded of his frigid condition, Dan jerkily managed to type the word “cold” to his girlfriend. A moment later, her phone lit up.

Without bothering to respond, Cynthia quickly reached down to scoop up her boyfriend, knocking Dan off balance and sending him sprawling into her palm. He was barely the size of her middle finger. In a state of shock, Dan hardly even responded until he was already flat against Cynthia’s hand, the wind being knocked from his lungs by the force of the impact. Almost immediately, he became aware of the warmth which radiated from her palm and quickly penetrated his body. In a dazed state, he noted how intimate it felt to have so much of his girlfriend’s body heat penetrating his own body. However, the thought was soon lost as Cynthia stood upright, the sudden motion of bringing Dan up to her face and flooding him with a sense of nausea.

The ease with which Cynthia had scooped Dan up and held him in her palm left the high-schooler with a strong sense of unease. It had been one thing to talk about giving total control to Cynthia, but it was quite another to actually commit the deed. Doubt and panic flashed through Dan’s mind as he realized exactly how much control he had just handed off to his lover. If she decided to, she could drop him here and now and there’d be nothing he could do. The thought unnerved the man, and Dan looked up at Cynthia’s face once more, looking for reassurance. However, Cynthia’s eyes were on something beneath his line of sight.

After a moment, Dan became aware of clicking from somewhere down below. Curious, he edged his way towards the side of Cynthia’s palm, peeking his head over the side to gaze down below. Glowing brilliantly in the dark, Cynthia’s phone stood illuminate, her thumb bouncing as she deftly typed out a message. A moment later, Dan’s own phone peeped once more, indicating he had received a message.

“Drop your phone on my palm.” Dan paused for a moment, gazing at the message but not understanding Cynthia’s reasoning. Why did she want his phone? A jolt of unease hit the shrunken figure once more as realization hit him. Without his phone, he’d have no way to call for help. He’d be completely dependent on Cynthia’s good-will for survival. Well, this was why they had come to this warehouse in the first place, wasn’t it? For a moment, Dan just stared at his phone, reconsidering how much he really trusted Cynthia.

They had met four months ago at his place of work where Cynthia was seeking to purchase a book for her sister. She was nineteen, had graduated as valid Victorian from her high school, and was currently a freshman in college. She had preferred to keep their relationship inconspicuous, expressing that her father wouldn’t have approved of had he found out about her choice of boyfriends. It was understandable, given how strict he was with his daughter, wasn’t it? Worry began to niggle at Dan’s mind as he realized that he had failed to mention his relationship with Cynthia to anyone for fear of word reaching her family.

In fact, the more Dan thought about it, the less he felt he trusted Cynthia. Sure, he knew her name, her age, and her history with her father, but what did he really know. He’d never met her family, neither her father nor her sister who she had heard so much about. He knew Cynthia was a freshman in college, but he’d always assumed it was the college in town and hadn’t actually bothered to ask. Doubts continued to pile on top of one another, and Dan was about at his breaking point as he realized how rash and stupid his decision had been. He’d let his hormones overtake his reason and had placed himself in a very dangerous situation. He needed to back out as soon as possible and alert someone to his current condition.

Dan brought his phone up, preparing to text someone about his predicament, to make sure someone would know what had happened were he to disappear. However, as he raised his hand in order to do just that, a massive shadow came down from above, swatting his phone from his hand. A jolt of pain shot through Dan’s arms, and with growing shock he realized that it was one of Cynthia’s fingers which had stolen his phone from him. With a single flick, Dan’s phone was launched over the edge of his lover’s palm and sent plummeting down to the concrete floor below. Dan’s heart dropped with it.

“Finally, I can drop the act.” In a blatant disregard for Dan’s current size, Cynthia spoke in a normal tone, bombarding the tiny figure. Her face, which had only moments ago had showed nothing but worry and concern, now wore a disinterest expression. It was as if the woman Dan had known and loved had suddenly been replaced by a stranger, at whose mercy he now found himself. Dan’s mind went blank, refusing to register the implications.

“I knew I’d forgotten something. Things could have gone badly if I hadn’t gotten your phone away from you.” Still in shock, Dan remained motionless as Cynthia sent off another text. After a moment, the response came, and his lover’s face was split by a cold smile. Without sparing a word of explanation for her miniscule captive, Cynthia pulled a small black bag from her purse, unceremoniously dumping Dan inside before pulling the draw strings tight. Satisfied that her captive was safely held, Cynthia hung the bag around her neck, allowing it to dangle between her cleavage.

“That should keep you warm,” Cynthia muttered. With a casual air, Cynthia set about collecting the evidence of the couple’s visit, including Dan’s discarded flashlight. Once she was satisfied that no evidence remained to connect neither herself nor Dan to the crime scene, Cynthia used her own flashlight to find her way out of the warehouse and back to the nearest bus station, stopping on the way to discard her disposable phone in a dumpster.

Inside the bag, Dan’s shock was beginning to dissipate, being replaced with desperate hurt. How could Cynthia do this to him? Maybe if she hadn’t tossed aside his phone, Dan could have believed this was all a part of her game. However, destroying a five-hundred dollar phone was far beyond what anyone would call “playing around.” Cynthia was serious about… whatever it is she had planned. Dan only hoped he’d be set free afterwards, or that he’d get the chance to escape and signal for help.

As time passed, things began to heat up for Dan. At first, he had been grateful for the warmth, a reprieve from the chill which had gripped him so strongly on the warehouse floor. However, not only was he placed within an insulated cloth bag, but he was between Cynthia’s medium bust, surrounded by a shirt and jacket. After only twenty minutes or so the temperature was becoming intensely uncomfortable, and Dan found himself pulling off his shirt to alleviate some of heat. His shoes and socks came off as well, offering him mild relief.

However, more disconcerting than the heat was the unknown. Trapped in the darkness of a cloth bag, Dan had no way to see where he was being carried or what lay beyond his prison. He only had the gentle swaying of Cynthia’s footsteps and whatever muffled sounds filtered through the layers of cloth by which to guess at what lay around him. For a while, Dan was nearly certain that Cynthia was taking the shuttle back to his place. However, as Cynthia left the public transport nearly all sound died out, denying Dan any hints as to his whereabouts. It wasn’t until his captor entered her car and slammed the door that he even got the slightest inkling, unhelpful though it was. Silently, Cynthia drove onwards through the night, ignoring any of the miniscule please coming from between her bust whenever they managed to reach her.

Dan might have spent an hour in the dark before Cynthia finally exited her vehicle, the swaying of her body and the slamming of her car door alerting him to the fact. However, it wasn’t until after five minutes of walking that a recognizable sound finally reached his ears.

“Good evening pledge,” a voice suddenly sounded from somewhere out of the darkness and Cynthia stopped walking. Luckily for Dan, the cloth around him managed to muffle most of the volume, sparing him some of the volume.

“Good evening sister.” Cynthia’s voice was smooth and deferent, though considerably less muffled.

“Everyone is already in place for your ascension. I trust you already know the procedure?” The last bit was spoken as a question.

“Of course sister.” Cynthia’s voice was as smooth and deferent as it had been before, but there seemed to be an undertone of excitement as well.

“Then you may proceed.” At the other woman’s words, Cynthia shifted into motion once more. However, the world remained silent, and Dan was offered no further hints on what was to come.

For the next, excruciating fifteen minutes Dan sat in his bag, dreading what was to come. He hadn’t expected Cynthia to bring others into whatever she had planned, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Having other people being witness to his predicament lent merit to the idea that he wasn’t going to be hurt, offering some small bit of relief. Perhaps he could even garner some aid from a passerby. Or, perhaps she was only greeting a sister from her sorority on her way to her dorm. Perhaps she wasn’t going to involve others at all. Dan knew just as little about his fate as he did an hour ago and it was beginning to drive him mad.

All at once, the silence which had surrounded Dan for so long was broken and sound returned to the world.

“Welcome sisters. Tonight, we have gathered here to welcome a new sister into our ranks…” Though the noise initially caught Dan off guard, he hung to every word, eager for any hint as to his surroundings. The speech went on for perhaps fifteen minutes, and though most of it was ceremonial garbage, Dan still managed to pick out some useful tidbits.

Cynthia was at a sorority meeting, where she was presumably to ascend from a pledge to a fully fledged sister. Not only that, but it was the Knights of Venus sorority of Angston university, a very prestigious university known for its upper class attendees. The Knights of Venus were perhaps the most well known of its sorority for being a radically feminist sorority, with many of its members having gone on to champion the expansion of female authority and power, often at the expense of males. Truth be told they weren’t feminists at all, but female supremacists, though they chose to cling to the feminist moniker for the moral authority it lent them. Anything having to do with the Knights of Venus sorority was bad news for any male involved, especially one as helpless as Dan. A fresh sheet of sweat broke out upon Dan’s skin, and this time it wasn’t related to the heat. He had to get away, before it was too…

“Will the ascending member please present their offering?” All at once, Dan’s world began to jostle once more.

“No! No no, NO!” Dan screamed the words aloud, struggling to deny what was about to happen. The Knights of Venuss were misandrists to the bone, and their involvement meant that Dan’s own chances of survival were rapidly dwindling. Dread he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling flooded Dan’s system, driving him to ineffectual action. Despite being fully aware of the uselessness of his actions, the captive found himself driven to beat against the bag around him, his prison seeming even more claustrophobic all of a sudden. He was still struggling as his prison was hoisted skyward, only to be lowered once more. Seconds later, Dan tumbled from the bag to land upon a hard plastic. The sudden light blinded the boy, and he instinctually pulled himself into a protective ball.

Snickers could be heard from all around as Dan waited in his fetal position, quickly losing count of the dozens of voices. Raw panic screamed through his mind, but he found himself frozen, incapable of uncurling himself. He was like a mouse, surrounded by a sea of cats. Someone made a crass comment about the size of his pecker to the amusement of everyone present, but the comment and subsequent laughter didn’t even register in Dan’s overwhelmed mind. He didn’t want to look, as if refusing to look at the sea of women he knew to be surrounding him would somehow make them unreal.

It wasn’t until fingers began to probe and prod at Dan that he snapped back to reality, though he still refused to uncurl from his ball. It was the only protection he had against the onslaught beyond, imaginary though that protection may be. So long as he remained in his protective shell, he could continue to wallow in ignorance, unaware of exactly how fucked he was. He failed to notice how many of the fingers struggled to dig at his pant line, or the growing murmurs of frustration.

“Just flick the fucker. That’ll make him cooperate.” Though distinctly feminine, the words came across as coarse and gruff, and the threat of violence captured Dan’s attention. Fearful of any assault, Dan finally raised his head, daring to gaze at the unknown hoard that awaited him.

Ranging from amused to serious, a sea of feminine faces gazed back at Dan, and a bone deep chill settled over the shrunken man. He was in a common room of some sort, presumably the sorority house, and as Dan gazed around he noticed that all of the windows were covered. Looking downward, the pale plastic of a chair seat met his gaze. Perhaps thirty women surrounded Dan, eyes locked on their tiny captive.

“Take off your pants.” Dan flinched at the voice, the same one which had threatened to flick him not too long ago. It belonged to a surprisingly small woman, though they all looked enormous to Dan at the moment. She was tan skinned with short blonde hair and an obviously athletic build: an athlete from some sports team, no doubt. Her impatient glare pierced Dan, rooting him to the spot. After only a moment of inactivity, the blonde moved suddenly, bending over and smashing her fist upon the seat of the chair. The fist landed inches from Dan, the force sending him bouncing.

“I said take off your pants!” On their own, either the blonde’s fist slamming into the chair or her raised voice would have been enough to knock Dan over. However, together they nearly sent him over the edge of the chair. Terrified, Dan scrambled to obey the blonde giantess’s command.

“See, men are all cowards by nature.” Seeing Dan jumping to her command, the blonde wore a smug smile. After only a few moments, Dan stood in his boxers, feeling immensely exposed.

“And the underwear.” Dan was mortified as he stripped naked, the cold starting to bite at him once more. He cheeks flushed red at all the probing gazes around him. After a few minutes of gawking and jeering, Cynthia stepped forward, carrying a strange device.

The device appeared to be a clear, plastic dildo of sort with a flared base so as to stand upright on its own. At its tip, a small spherical chamber of some sort rested, and a small tube could be seen leading from the bottom of the chamber to the base of the toy. From there, the tube exited the base of the toy, trailing away for several feet to connect to a motor of some sort.

“Cynthia, if you would prepare the offering.” It was the woman to Cynthia’s side who spoke, a rather nondescript brunette with a heavier build. At her words, Cynthia placed the dildo upright upon the chair with Dan, careful not to crush him underneath. She took a moment to unscrew the top half of the spherical chamber before scooping Dan up in her grasp and lightly cramming him within the toy. Before Dan could even think of trying to climb out, Cynthia was screwing the top back on, sealing him within.

Now that he was actually within the chamber, Dan noticed that it hadn’t been as solid as he had first thought. In fact, there were holes dotting the walls around him at regular intervals, though even at his miniscule size he would have been hard pressed to fit an arm through. Where the sphere met with the shaft of the dildo, Dan found smooth, unblemished rubber. The only exception was the small tube at the bottom of the curve, once more too small to fit a hand in. The apparatus stank of rubber and cleaning products, indicating it had recently been sanitized. Small as it was, Dan was forced to crouch, finding that he filled up more than half of the space available.

As Cynthia plugged the apparatus into an extension cord, the attached motor roared to life, catching the shrunken man off guard. A moment later its purpose was revealed as air started to ascend through the tube in the center and flow through the spherical Chamber, further chilling Dan. Unexpectedly, a network of miniature lights was revealed to be embedded in the walls of the spherical chamber, though for what purpose remained a mystery. Her task complete, Cynthia stood upright once more, returning to her place beside the sorority head.

The next fifteen minutes were spent listening to another ceremonial speech on the values of sisterhood and female superiority, for which Dan cared little. He was too busy worrying about what was to come. He’d already guessed by his current location some of what he would be subjected to, likely some form of ceremonial sexual abuse, however his worries lay with what would come after the ritual was complete. Dan had been a recluse most of his life, so abuse was nothing new to him. He’d suffered much in his life, and he’d always managed to recover. However, the Knights of Venuss hadn’t seemed too worried about hiding their identities, despite having a potential witness in the room. Resolutely, Dan refused to follow that line of thought any further lest the conclusion drive him insane.

“Now, to get on with the ascension ceremony. Will all those in favor of Cynthia’s ascension to full sisterhood please step forward?” Though his view was twisted by the spherical shape of the clear walls around him, Dan could see enough of the outside world to understand what was going on. At their head’s prompting, the large majority of the girls stepped forward, forming a surprisingly orderly line leading away from Dan’s chair. Even as the waited in line, some of them were disrobing, shedding their clothing and exposing naked flesh. The sorority head handed a large bottle to Cynthia before waving her over towards their captive.

Upon reaching the chair, Cynthia proceeded to undress, shedding her clothing one layer at a time. As each article was removed, she took the time to fold it neatly, forming a stack in what was a painfully familiar gesture to Dan. Once fully unclothed, another sister came and took the pile away, leaving Cynthia to take a kneeling position in front of the chair. From over her shoulder, Dan could just make out the blurred shape of the sorority head holding a camera.

With reverent care, Cynthia brought the bottle high above Dan, upending its contents over both his chamber and the apparatus as a whole. A clear, thick liquid cascaded over the surface of the dildo, with small amounts of the substance filtering into Dan’s chamber. However, the air pressure from the pump managed to keep most of the substance outside, though a slimy film still gathered beneath him. With little surprise, the shrunken captive realized that he was surrounded by lubricant. After taking a moment to smear the lube evenly, Cynthia motioned for the first of her sisters to approach.

From his perch within the dildo, Dan was woefully blind, the lubricant having smeared his vision beyond all hope of recognition. The world around him appeared as nothing more than patches of color and shade, revealing little of the danger which approached. However, with a growing dread, Dan couldn’t help but take notice of the shadow which suddenly engulfed his prison and how the walls of his prison seemed to take up a fleshier hue. A sudden jolt shook Dan’s world as the unknown sister’s pussy made first contact with his prison, resting against the tip of his prison in anticipation.

Like a physical force, the stench of female arousal assaulted Dan, the earthy scent of the female sex causing his eyes to water. The scent was thick in the air, thicker than the boy had ever experienced before. It seemed to cling to his skin like a fine mist, and with his every breath he felt it invade his chest. Dan couldn’t tell whether it was his size that was amplifying the musk’s effects or if the sister above him was especially excited, but regardless his head swam. To his surprise and shame, Dan found his own anatomy rising in response.

After hardly a moment’s pause, the unknown sister began to slowly lower herself, taking Dan and his prison deeper within. Almost lazily, the fleshy lips above began to part, wiping the dildo clean as they spread and once more clearing Dan’s view. Pink, fleshy folds sluggishly encircled the walls around the shrunken captive, claiming the plastic apparatus with deliberate slowness as if savoring every moment. A slimy trail of vaginal secretions slowly spread across the outer surface, penetrating the air holes all around Dan and invading what little space had been allotted to him. Within seconds, the inner chamber was covered, as well as the captive figure within.

As the voracious organ continued downward, Dan couldn’t help but look around, his sense of claustrophobia growing as the light began to dwindle. It was then that the network of micro lights’ purpose became apparent, their meager illumination proving to be more than enough to expose the pink, pulsing walls around him. The pale flesh was a network of folds and ridges, its surface seeming to have a silk-like texture, though Dan didn’t actually reach out and touch it. Above, a split in the flesh continued to give way, allowing Dan’s prison to continue deeper. As he continued to progress deeper, the Dan was momentarily overcome by the irrational fear that the passage above was endless.

Dan’s progress was painfully slow as the sorority sister took her time, savoring his humiliation no doubt. The darkness continued to grow as the hungry flash crept further downward, and in no time only the micro light’s illumination was left. The walls around Dan were starting to sporadically convulse, and with the constant air pressure from the vent below him wet squelching noises were becoming more and more frequent. The sounds of a rapid heartbeat and pounding blood seemed to assail Dan from all sides, a constant reminder of the pleasure his tormentor took from his humiliation.

Surrounded by the alien tissue as he was, Dan found himself confused. On the one hand, all the scents and his proximity to the female sex had his member at full mast, his senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and smells of sex. However, the rational part of his mind was filled a sense of helpless humiliation. For this woman, he was nothing more than a toy. He was a plaything for her sex to chew up and spit out. She didn’t care that he was a person, or what psychological harm that she could be inflicting. He was nothing to her but a fuck-toy, to be violated and passed on to the next sister. Even as Dan’s member continued to pulse at the idea, his mind began to turn inward, rejecting his situation. However, he couldn’t block out his surroundings for long.

After what had seemed an eternity, the flesh surrounding Dan seemed to halt its downward descent, entering an unnerving stillness. For a moment, everything remained motionless, as if the world around the tiny captive was holding its breath in anticipation. Only the soft pounding of blood and the gentle whisper of the air vent beneath Dan made any sound.

Suddenly, with a violent jerk, the world around Dan exploded into motion. The walls of pink flesh rocketed upwards, battering Dan’s prison and throwing the tiny man around in his cramped prison. Almost instantly the vagina reached its apex, violently slamming down once more and jostling the captive roughly. The pressure of the descent forced a torrent of vaginal juices to enter Dan’s confines, momentarily flooding them before the air pressure once more cleared his prison. However, the sudden flood caught the boy off guard, and his mouth was momentarily filled with the taste of sweat and sex. Dan barely had the time to cough up the fluids before the sister rose once more, slamming down with violent abandon and refilling Dan’s prison. It was all the boy could do just to keep from inhaling more fluids.

Time passed at a snail’s pace as the sister continued to violate Dan, unintentionally water boarding him with her arousal. Had his confines been any wider, he would have likely broken something as he was battered around. However, he would have almost preferred that to what he was experiencing at the moment. The outer shell of his container wasn’t precisely solid, though it did offer ample protecting from the crushing forces which sought to snuff out his existence. However, with each new thrust, the walls around him would cave inward, lightly squishing his curled form. This robbed him of the sense of safety a harder shell might have offered, instilling in Dan a great sense of dread at each downward drop. He couldn’t help but worry that at any moment, his container might collapse.

After what seemed an eternity, the violence bombarding Dan seemed to reach a fever pitch, rising in intensity and frequency. The pale walls all around were bobbing up and down so quickly that Dan could no longer tell in which direction they were moving, and it was all the little air vent could do to keep him from drowning. The violent rocking which constantly shook the plastic dildo was so rough that Dan feared he might be getting a concussion in addition to the nausea which had been slowly welling up within his stomach. The walls around him constantly pressed inward, rendering his shrunken form immobile. As he gasped for breath, trying with all his might to grab one more clear breath, all thoughts of his violation and humiliation fled his mind. Only panic remained, and the frightened instincts that drove him to fight for life.

Incredibly, after a few minutes the sister seemed to go faster, her thrusts and gyrations growing in their ferocity. In a final, savage burst of effort, the sister came, her vagina clamping down on Dan with desperate abandon. The pace of the sister’s bouncing suddenly slowed, however the pressure that pressed in on Dan threatened to rob him of his breath. He could feel the plastic around him straining in response to the added weight the sister put on the apparatus, threatening to bend it at the base. The heartbeat reached an unbelievable pace, physically bombarding Dan through the thin plastic that threatened to crush him. An animalistic scream of carnal desire rippled through the flesh all around the captive, reverberating through his bones and causing him to ache.

After a few seconds, the violent convulsion began to subside, granting Dan a much needed reprieve. He took a single, shuddering breath, almost sobbing from the relief his lungs felt at finally being able to breathe once more. Soon enough, he took another, and his mind began to recover from its flight of panic. As rational thought began to return to Dan, he began to notice a hole somewhere in his chest, a hole that hadn’t been there previously.

Dan had lost something, something he’d never known he’d had. In all his life, he’d been bullied and ostracized, but even then he’d been treated as a human. His peers had despised and tormented him as another human, but never like this. These women didn’t even consider him alive. He was nothing more than an object for their pleasure. Nobody here considered him human. He’d been reduced to the state of an object. He’d lost his humanity, and where it had once rested a hole now ate at the boy.

Tears clouded Dan’s vision as the sister eased her way off of the dildo, exposing him once more to the sea of uncaring faces all around him. Almost all of the lube had been cleared away his abuser’s vagina, so Dan could once more see the feminine faces staring down at him with carnal desire. The sister who had just violated him was a thin, brown haired beauty with purple highlights in her hair; however Dan hardly spared a glance for her. Instead, his eyes found Cynthia’s, seeing the same pitiless stare he’d received earlier. Hoping against hope, he called out to her hoarsely, begging for aide. In response, she reapplied lube, preparing the way for his next abuser.

Over the course of about three hours, nearly two dozen women had their way with Dan. At first he tried to pay attention to who made use of him, noting women of all shapes and sizes; Black women, white women, Asian women, Hispanic women, fat women, skinny women, short women, tall women, athletes. However, eventually it stopped mattering. He always ended up in the same damp hole, smothered by musk and juices. He always ended up choking on cum and fighting to breathe, watching pale pink walls fight to squash out his existence. Though the times and intensities varied, the end result was always the same. Dan came out covered in a little more cum and feeling a little less human. By the time the final woman had taken her pleasure, Dan had retreated mentally to a far off place, oblivious to the horror around him save when it threatened to extinguish him.

Withdrawn into his own mind as he was, it took a moment for him to realize something was off when the next sister didn’t immediately mount his plastic prison. Nearly a minute passed in silence before he found out the reason.

“Will all those opposed to Cynthia’s ascension please step forward?” At their leader’s prompting, four girls stepped forward, forming another line. Among them Dan noticed the small blonde from earlier who had threatened to flick him. A moment later, the sorority head waved her over.

In a painfully familiar motion, Cynthia smothered Dan’s prison in a liberal amount of lube, preparing him for further abuse. This had become so routine that as the gruff blonde took her position above his prison, Dan couldn’t even bring himself to panic. He felt empty and resigned, as if something had broken deep inside. Dan withdrew into his mind, hardly paying attention as the brunette placed her hand upon the tip of his prison, angling it for an easier insertion. He was already covered in so much cum that he couldn’t even taste it anymore and already so broken that he couldn’t even care anymore. He’d already suffered more than twenty of this same abuse. What was four more?

By feel alone, Dan noted the familiar straining of the plastic as it met a solid surface, resisting slightly as his violator gently lowered her weight onto the tip. He felt the familiar buzzing vibration as slick flesh rubbed against lubed plastic. He didn’t even bother to look up as the light slowly faded, leaving him in a tube of flesh illuminated by the micro lights. However, a sudden wrongness struck Dan, and he broke from his stupor. The smell was off.

With a dawning horror, Dan took in his surroundings, noting a change in texture. Rather than the velvety walls he had become accustomed to, these walls were sleek and a pale white, with blood vessels plainly apparent. Dark mucus coated the walls, and murkier patches were apparent. Upon further inspections, traces of sludge were also present, clinging the folds and crevices.

Dan retched as he realized his location. Oh God! Now that he knew the identity of the smell which assailed him, it suddenly became so much more potent, as if knowing had somehow allowed him to experience it properly. The retched smell of bowels assailed Dan, clawing at his throat and violating his tongue with its flavor. His eyes watered at the intensity of it all. The boy couldn’t help but dry heave as he was driven deeper still.

Suddenly, Dan’s heart went cold as he was driven through another sphincter, only to watch it open up to a wall of sludge. He actually let out a scream as the tip of his prison embedded into the mush, showing no signs of slowing. He fought to block as many of the air holes up as he could, pushing his back upward to block out the filth which fought to press into his cell. However, he was only partially successful. The sludge still entered through the lower holes, pushing its way against his lower legs.

It wasn’t until his cell was completely embedded that his progress finally stopped, his tormentor feeling his plight. However, rather than the familiar thrusting and pumping that had come with his vaginal insertion, he was simply left to rest where he was, encapsulated in waste. Perhaps that was the cruelest thing, as it left Dan time to think. Rather than fighting for his life and struggling for air, he was left to agonize over his location. As his mind kept turning over his plight, something broke, and a sob shook his body. The shrunken boy screamed out his anguish as tears poured down his cheeks.

Though it took far longer than usual, his surrounding eventually began to pulsate in what Dan recognized as a precursor to an orgasm, filling him with dread. With tears still streaming down his face, he pressed himself against the surrounding air holes, even as the walls closed in around him. More shit was packed into his cell as he weathered his abuse, reeling in anger and anguish. By the time he was withdrawn from the brunette, little light reached Dan.

“Damn it Brittany, I told you to clean yourself out first.” The sorority leader’s voice held a note of anger.

“I did.” The blonde, Brittany, who had just raped Dan spoke with an unmistakable note of smugness, exposing her statement as a lie.

“Well apparently not well enough.” The sorority head’s voice was flushed with anger.

It took nearly five minutes for Cynthia to clean the dildo, wiping the outer surface down with sanitary wipes and clearing it of feces. However, she refrained from opening the chamber at the tip in order to clean the inside, despite the layer of crap which Dan was being forced to sit in. Dan was still sobbing as his prison was lubed up and the next woman approached the chair, preparing to violate Dan once more.

Three more times, Dan was crammed crudely into the shit tube of a woman he’d never met before. However, he couldn’t block the experience out as he had with the vagina. What he was being subjected to was simply too vile, too inhuman to block out. What kind of sick, twisted fuckers could bring themselves to stuff someone they didn’t even know into the foulest portion of their body? No answer was forthcoming. Thankfully, all of the three remaining girls had properly cleansed themselves, reducing the amount of time Dan was forced to endure.

Dan was nearly catatonic by the time Cynthia finally unscrewed the cap to his prison, upending the whole apparatus to dump the shrunken sex slave into her palm. Unfortunately, so much crap had been encrusted around the bottom of the spherical chamber that the boy was held fast against the force of gravity, much to Cynthia’s frustration. Of course, Dan refused to help in any fashion, so it took several minutes of struggling until the raven haired pledge finally managed to pry her prize free. Were Dan in the state of mind to do so, he might have taken some small satisfaction at the petty frustration he had caused the woman who had betrayed him.

Seeing that the captive was finally free, the head of the sorority began to speak.

“Sister’s, upon this offering lies the full approval and disapproval of our sorority. Your opinions have been shown, and the time has come for the pledge to accept your feeling into herself along with the sorority. Pledge Cynthia, devour the offering and take your place amongst the sisterhood.”

The will to fight had left Dan, along with the will to live. He was broken, empty, devoid of dignity. The spark that had once glowed within the boy had been extinguished. Without a thought, he lay motionless in Cynthia’s palm as she carried him towards her mouth, her dark pale lips parting to expose a row of brilliant, white pillars. With a sudden jerk, Cynthia tossed her head backwards, dumping Dan into her awaiting maw. She swallowed immediately, nearly bypassing the taste of her soon to be ex-lover.

Unfeeling, Dan took no notice of the undulating flesh which surrounded him, dragging him slowly towards his doom. He was broken, his mind devoid of life as his body would soon be. Without struggling, the boy was deposited into the awaiting stomach, the sounds of gurgling and a far off heartbeat a soothing lullaby to the dying man. He’d been subjected to so many smells already that not even the overpowering stench of vomit could shake him from his stupor. Long before the acids began to eat at him, darkness overcame Dan as he suffocated, fading into oblivion.

By its very nature, life is cruel. The strong eat the weak, the fast beat the slow, and ultimately the one will exploit the many. That is life, and in some ways that cruelty is beautiful. It's an impartial sort of cruelty, one which neither discriminates nor holds malice. It's fair in its unfairness, or at least that's what Riza had been taught. Still, as she pressed her hands against the glass of her container and stared out into the distorted world beyond, it was neither life nor nature that she saw. Instead, it was the twisted shape of the desk upon which she sat and the messy bedroom beyond that filled her view.

Desk, another new word Riza had learned during her captivity. To think, only four days ago she had been sunning her gossamer wings in the morning light, sipping dew and enjoying a gentle breeze. Now, she sat in a stagnant jar, her wings clipped for ease of captivity. The tattered stubs on her back still burned, a constant reminder of her captor's cruelty. Other words such as pet, toy, and money had quickly entered her vocabulary, adding to her growing hatred of humanity.

Whereas nature was cruel in its impartiality, humans were another sort of cruel. They were the evil sort of cruel which lead them to capture fairies for use and abuse. Riza had heard tails of whole farms of fairies, being bred as slaves and having their wings repeatedly clipped for their healing properties, only to grow back and be clipped once more. Was she going to be sold to a farm? Would she live the rest of her life suffering the repeated pain of having her wings removed and robbed of the joys of flight? Riza had spent the past few days anguishing over such a possibility, but the longer she remained with this same captor, the less likely she found it that she would be sold.

No, had her captor intended to sell the fairy, she would have done so already. Instead, she had spared only what time was necessary to keep Riza alive, spending the rest on her laptop, sleeping, or out at someplace called high school. This had given Riza ample time to observe her tormentor, to study her and make plans for her own escape.

Though the curve of her jar distorted her vision, Riza could tell Ann was young for a human. Most likely just entering adulthood, the girl who held her captive was lanky and lean, with fine hair cropped close to her head. Under other circumstances, Riza might have likened the messy crop of hair to a flower due to its black center and purple highlights. However, given her current captivity she would have been more likely to compare it to less savory things. The teen had fine facial features for a human, though they seemed practically boarish when compared to Riza's own. When in her room the high schooler insisted on spending her time lounging around in nothing more than her bra and panties, two other words Riza had picked up, showing off her pale flesh and small breasts.

However, contrary to her usual slothfulness, her captor had spent this morning in a whirl of motion, waking up well before usual. The previous night, a package of some sort had arrived, causing a flurry of excitement from the purple-haired teen. Now, though the sun had yet to rise, Ann was practically dancing as she held up that same package once more, setting it down on her bed behind her. A moment later, the human stalked closer to her captive's container. Riza forced herself against the far end of her jar, terrified at what the human had in store for her.

"So, are you ready to come to school with me?" Riza's understanding of the human language was minimal, but she still managed to make out the gist of Ann' words. However, despite the prospect of being freed from her prison, fear knotted within the fairy's stomach. She knew better than to trust humans. The fairy's apprehension only grew as her captor leaned over to rummage beneath her desk. After a short wait, Ann triumphantly produced a small bottle of clear fluid.

After taking a moment to open the unknown fluid, Ann upended the bottle over Riza's container, giving it a hard squeeze. A stream of slime shot downward towards the fairy, splattering her and beginning to fill her jar. Was this the human's plan all along, to drown her for some sick amusement? Riza began to clamber at the sides of her cell, seeking some purchase so as to escape her squelching grave. However, she immediately slipped on the slick substance, her feet shooting out from under her and causing the fairy to land face first in the goop. With panicked movements the fairy flailed desperately, seeking some purchase by which to raise her head above the thick substance. After a moment, Riza managed to pull her face above the slime, desperately sucking in a panicked breath. Fearful that the level of slime might rise at any moment, the fairy hastily pulled herself to her feet, only to realize that Ann had already stoppered the bottle. Relief momentarily filled Riza as she noted that the gel merely came up to her knees, only to be replaced with anger a moment later.

"What do you want? Why are you doing this to me?" In her distress, Riza actually shouted up at the human in her native language, giving vent to her helplessness. Her voice was soft and airy, like a chime in the wind. Though it wouldn't have carried very far, it must have reached the Ann, judging by the momentary expression of shocked awe which shot across her face. However, a few moments later the expression was gone and the pale teen leaned inwards towards the fairy.

Gently grasping the jar, Ann began to swirl her fairy within the lubricant, reducing Riza's world to one of whirling color and burning lungs. However, almost as quickly as she had started, she stopped. Allowing the choking fairy to clear her lungs of the watery fluid and gasp a few breaths of fresh air. Once confident that her captive had regained her composure, Ann continued swirling, stopping only to allow her toy to regain its breath. This cycle continued for a few minutes until eventually the girl sat the jar back down on the desk, satisfied with the amount of lube which covered Riza.

Sputtering and dizzy, Riza clambered to her feet, her limbs aching at her rough treatment. It was a slippery process, but she eventually managed, leaning heavily against the glass around her as she painfully sucked in breath after breath. After taking a moment to calm herself, the fairy looked outward, hoping to glean some clue as to her captor's ultimate desire.

By the time she looked outward, Ann seemed to be turned away from her prisoner, the scrawny goth's butt filling the fairy's view. Her tight cheeks seemed to chew and pull at the purple panties which clung to them as she clawed at her package, seeking to pry it open. After several agonizing minutes of waiting, the purple haired teen straightened her body once more as she turned back to the fairy, flaunting her prize.

Dangling it above the open top of Riza's prison, the fairy managed to get a good look at Ann's prize. It seemed to be nothing more than a plastic ball of some sort with a network of small holes punctured through it. A small, straw-like tube protruded from one end, bellowing outward in two directions similar to a smashed trumpet. Why Ann would be interested in such a thing escaped the fairy, though she feared she might discover the reason soon enough.

Placing the strange device next to Riza's jar, the teen proceeded to undress, sliding her hand behind her back and unclasping her bra in a quick motion while simultaneously slipping a thumb beneath her waistband. A moment later, the woman was stepping free of her underwear, tossing the garment into a corner before sending the bra to join it. Returning her attention to the fairy, she purposefully gave Riza a full view of her naked body.

Truth be told, over the course of her captivity, Riza had already seen everything the teen had to offer. However, the fact that the girl was showing off was making the fairy feel uneasy, forcing her to look again. The skin was an unblemished sea of white, having been deprived of much sunlight. Her breasts were small and perky, well formed and smooth. However, her pale-pink areolas seemed erect, despite the relative warmth of the room. Two delicate hands cradled Ann's breasts as she showed off her figure, her well manicured nails catching the light. Beneath, a small belly button piercing could be seen amidst the smooth mound of the goth's belly, eventually giving way to a bush of black pubic hair. Some sort of spider-webbing tattoo could be seen on the outside of the teen's thigh.

Seeing little out of the ordinary, Riza raised her eyes upwards, searching her captor's face for some clue to her purpose, and coming to a startling realization. Ann's light-pink lips were drawn apart, her tongue lolling out to press against her top teeth. A taunting grin was plastered across her face, condescending and malevolent. Deep, hazel eyes seemed to glisten with their intensity as a single black eyebrow arched upwards almost quizzically. Ann was aroused, and judging by her expression the object of her desire was Riza.

A cold shiver ran down Riza's spine at the realization, the many different implications running through her head. Among fairies, sex was purely for procreation. It was the prospect of children that brought them joy, not the act itself. It was often a bland ordeal, with no foreplay and little creativity. Despite the rarity of males, the prospect of female on female interactions was unheard of among fairies. The thought alone was enough to make Riza's stomach churn at its unnaturalness, let alone the matter of inter-species relations with one party being so much larger than the other.

Riza watched with a mixture of horror and disgust as the goth trailed her fingers down her belly towards her sex, her other hand remaining to fondle the nipples above. Transfixed, the fairy watched as Ann's hand threaded its way through her pubic hair, her fingers worming their way towards the velvety folds below. As she slid a finger inside, a sharp gasp could be heard.

Finger deep in her womanhood, Ann spoke to Riza, though the words held no meaning to the fairy. Still, the tone itself was clear enough; seductive and mocking. A cloying nausea strangled the fairy at the prospect of what was to come, what she knew was coming. There was only one way for the two parties to copulate given their size, and the mere though caused the fairy to gag. Riza found herself trembling as Ann reached for her lube once more.

Squirting a liberal globule into her hand, Ann surprised her captive by turning to face away from the fairy, presenting a rearward view of her body. Her perky ass filled Riza's view as a new possible fate suddenly became apparent to the fairy. No, she wouldn't! She couldn't! As Ann leaned forward, spreading her cheeks with her free hand and bringing the lube to her anus, Riza began to vomit, the flavors of bile and honey mixing in her mouth.

Her heart feeling as if it would burst, Riza closed her eyes, shutting out the world. She refused to watch her captor as she lubricated the fairy's next prison. She refuse to even think about it. Seeking to drive out the inevitable horror which awaited her, Rize concentrated on singing a tune. It was a traditional tune, sung to welcome spring. It may have been fall, but at that moment Riza didn't care. She would've done anything to drive her impending fate from her mind.

After a minute, the fairy's singing was cut short as a hand wrapped itself around her torso, eliciting a sharp cry from the frightened fairy. Mad with horror, the fairy kicked and struggled, biting and clawing at the hand which held her. The scent of shit filled her nose, and with a violent shock she realized that she was being picked up by the hand which had only moments ago been knuckle deep in the vile teen's ass. Lubricated as she was, she almost broke free from Ann's hand as a sudden surge of desperate strength surged through her. However, the lusty teen was quick to recover, bringing her second hand up to fully encircle Riza. With the fairy firmly clasped within her hands Ann walked over to her bed, laying down and spreading her legs apart.

Riza was hyperventilating as the goth teen repositioned herself. Deprived of her hands, Ann had to shuffle her way down her bed, getting into a comfortable position for what was to come. Once she was settled, a quick flex of her abdomen brought her knees up towards her shoulders, leaving her back arched and her bare ass pointing upward. Satisfied with her positioning, Ann lifted her hands upward towards her butt, resting her wrists atop her taint.

Trapped in Ann's grip, Riza was hyperventilating from the mixture of emotions of raging through her. She had known humans could be cruel, but what this young human planned to do was beyond unthinkable. It was unnatural. A butt was a place for the expulsion of waste, not for pleasure or ingestion. Not only that, but to stuff another creature into such an orifice, to likely choke on shit and die for mere carnal pleasure. The fairy could feel herself growing lightheaded at the whole ordeal. She prayed that she would just pass out and never wake up.

Without releasing either hand, Ann began to squeeze the fairy, forcing her to straighten out. The high schooler was no stranger to backdoor pleasure, but at six inches and thrashing wildly her fairy would likely test her limits, even if she weren't balled up in the a protective curl. It took some struggling, mostly because she didn't want to injure her toy, but eventually she began to make some headway, pulling the struggling fairy outward and holding her in an outstretched position facing upwards. Once satisfied, the girl carefully positioned the fairy directly above her anus, allowing the bottoms of her feet to drop down and touch her hole. Ann was careful to shift her tainted hand downward and her clean hand upward as she had outstretched Riza, and so she was able to pinch the fairy's flailing feet between her thumb and middle finger, feeding them into the fleshy ring beneath.

Riza could tell where she was approaching by the stench of feces despite her obscured vision long before the soles of her feet made contact with Ann's filthy pit, but the sensation of rubbery flesh pressing against her toes still came as a shock to the fairy. Weakened from her previous struggles, the fairy could only flail ineffectually as she gagged. The pressure of the hands around Riza holding her outstretched was unbearably tight, forcing her to take frequent shallow breaths pungent with the stench of Ann's ass. She could actually taste it at this distance, the rancid taste of waste coating the inside of her mouth and forcing Riza to choke. Tears streamed down her face as she regretted not being sold to a farm. Even a lifetime of slavery would have been preferable to this.

As a downward pressure began to build, Riza felt her feet slip into the ring of rape beneath her, the lubricated surface offering little resistance as the horny teens fingers crammed her inwards. Desperately, the fairy strained against the constraining embrace of the hands around her, fighting to gain some measure of space so as to ball up once more and potentially forestall her passage. However, the sweaty digits remained unmoving, locking the beleaguered fairy in her outstretched position. A burst of pressure forced her up to her knees into the goth's humid interior and the fingers below crept their way upward, securing themselves around her thighs.

A hoarse scream of frustration and helplessness burst from the fairy's throat as her captor continued to violate her, the hot flesh of Ann's rectum sliding against the delicate skin of Riza's calves. The heat from the teen's body penetrated the fairy as it slowly crept upwards, filling her with a sickly feeling at the intimacy of such proximity. Sweat burst from the fairy's skin, the smell of it failing to penetrate the now choking stench of human bowels. Riza retched, her body desperately seeking to void its already empty stomach at the overwhelming stench which violated the fairy's every sense. Wet squelches could be heard intermittently as the fairy's flailing legs displaced the lubricant and other substances within the teen's anal passage, the excess fluids mingling with rectal mucus to form a pool around Ann's rubbery ring. As her feet sank deeper, small pockets of sludge began to accumulate at the bottom her Riza's calves, a precursor to the filth which surely waited deeper within.

Though Ann's womanhood trembled in excitement at the prospect of so wholly violating another sentient creature, Riza's was recoiling in horror as her own pelvis was forced within her captor's filthy body and the tainted fingers below crept upward to grasp her chest. As the heat of Ann's ass began radiate into the tired fairy's lower body and the cruel girl's vile fluids began to permeate Riza's anatomy, an absolute sense of dirtiness and desecration shot up the broken fairy's spine. Even if she had been able to somehow escape, to grow back her wings and fly away to safety, she could never be the same again; not now that her own sex was being penetrated by rectal mucus. She would forever be tarnished and tainted by this human's bowels, never to feel clean again, no matter how much she washed. Realizing that there was no chance of escape, the fairy decided to stop struggling, seeking to deny her demented torturer any further stimulation in a last defiant act.

Ann didn't even notice the fairy's act of defiance as she continued to cram Riza into her bowels. The high schooler was simply drunk off of power, having so much control over another being. She wondered at the horror her little toy was sure to be experiencing, how it felt to be consumed by another's ass, whether or not her pet had run into any fecal residue as she descended deeper towards the hot depths of her bowels. She felt Riza shift as she pushed her in past her breasts, likely from pain at having the stumps of her wings compressed by her anus. Ann let out a moan as a tremor of pleasure shot through her spine.

Despite thrashing initially at the burning pain in her back as the tattered remains of her wings were forced into her cruel captor's rectum, Riza had mostly kept her resolve to stay still. Tears were streaming down her face as the greasy ring around her forced its way under her armpits, robbing her of any leverage or chance at escape, but still the fairy held a bit of pride. She was injured, humiliated, and about to die, but at least she could take pride knowing that she had carried out this last act of defiance. At least she hadn't given in, even as all hope had left her. The cleaner of Ann's hands relinquished its grip on Riza's upper body and moved upwards, allowing two soiled fingers to rest atop the fairy's shoulders. Arms forced upward, Riza grimly awaited the final plunge, now relishing the prospect of an end to her suffering.

However, rather than being forced inside her captor's bowels to suffocate and die as she had expected, Ann brought her clean hand up to her glistening womanhood. Riza flinched as the teen roughly forced her fingers into the velvety passage above, treating her toy to an up close look at her motivations. In and out, the petite teen's fingers stimulated her sex, horrifying and mortifying Riza with every plunge. Close as she was to the teen's sex, she could actually feel the fingers groping her body through the rectum walls, stroking the full length of her body as they pleasured Ann's sex. However, Riza stayed strong, holding her tired body still as she suffered through the wet squelches. Even as contractions began to rumble through the rectum around her, painfully squeezing the fairy's wing stumps, Riza remained strong. It wasn't until feminine juices began to dribble into the fairy's mouth that she even acknowledged her captor's actions, and only just to spit.

After several minutes of furious masturbating, Riza noticed a change in Ann's tempo, heralding the approach of her climax and hopefully the end of the fairy's suffering. The human was panting and shifting on the bed, her knees intermittently bobbing upwards away from her shoulders and clenching her pelvis with a crushing strength. Riza felt her ribs pop as the air rushed from her lungs and her joints ached as her lower body was compressed. The fingers at her shoulders began to press downward, forcing the sobbing fairy's shoulders past the fleshy portal, followed soon after by her head and arms. Within moments, all of the poor fairy was contained within the unimaginable tightness of her human tormentor.

After a few seconds, a violent spasm ripped its way along the rectum, grinding shit and mucus into the fairy. Pain racked Riza's body as the muscles around her fought to crush the life from her, forcing a gasp of pain from the fairy and robbing her of what little breath she could hold. However, the contractions subsided soon enough, leaving the fairy alone in darkness and filth. Spots danced across her vision and her world lurched, likely Ann jumping to some post-masturbation clean up. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Though the human had done many horrible things to her, in the end the fairy had remained still and defiant. A touch of pride colored the fairy as darkness swallowed her.

It was the sensation of cool air blowing across her face that awoke Riza, much to her confusion. However, as consciousness returned, the fairy once more became aware of the choking stench and cloistering heat of Ann's bowels encapsulating her, much to her horror. Panicked, the fairy opened her eyes to find enough light to see her arms crumpled against her face, something hard and round forcing its way against her head. Struggling against the immense pressure all around her, Riza shifted her arms, instantly recognizing the spherical head of the plastic device she had seen before. With dawning horror, she realized that this ventilated sphere was allowing fresh air and light to reach her, preventing her suffocation.

As Ann continued to get ready for school, a sudden jolt of pleasure shot up her spine as her toy began to thrash within her colon. Good, she had feared that she may have been too late with her plug, allowing her only fairy to suffocate. Satisfied that her entertainment hadn't been cut short, Ann stepped into a new pair of panties, pulling them up to her waist and concealing all traces of her plug and the struggling fairy within. After taking the time to masturbate once more, Ann fully dressed herself, the prospect of spending the day at school actually seeming appealing for once.

Like thunder, the engine roared, a constant hum fighting with the screams of the wind. Two wheels moved the earth, leaving mile after mile of blacktop to fade on the horizon. Dust battered the rider, beating relentlessly against desert scorched skin and a blue helmet. Nova couldn't help but laugh at the feeling of it all.

For four years, she had roamed the open desert roads of Arizona with her sisters. For four years, she had tasted freedom the likes of which other's could only imagine. For four years, she'd owed her life and happiness to the Blue Roses, her family; the ones who had saved her from herself. They had taken her in when she'd had nowhere else to turn to, when she'd found herself homeless after leaving an abusive relationship. It was their shared experiences with men which bound them together, which made them family.

"Would you slow down already! You're doing over a hundred." As her sister's voice chirped in her earpiece, Nova came back to herself, releasing the throttle. However, she still couldn't bring herself to put on the breaks. Even as the dual rumbles of her sisters' bikes approached from behind, she longed to take off, to race after the setting sun that dyed the desert crimson.

"I hate it when you do that! You never know when another gang might show up!" Cindy pulled alongside Nova, her leather jacket fluttering in the breeze. A blue rose was emblazoned upon the back, a perfect match to Nova's own.

"If anyone shows up, I'll just outrun them." Nova put as much cockiness in her tone as her microphone would allow, turning to face her sister. Despite the tinted screen on Cindy's blue helmet, the biker still managed convey rolling her eyes.

"You're such a kid."

"You're such an adult."

"Hey!" Another voice chirped over the headset. Elena, their third, trailed along just behind the two. Her attire matched their own.

"If you're done chit-chatting, the checkpoint's just ahead." Looking forward, Nova was just able to make out the Arizona-Mexico border.

"Wow, you've got the eyes of a hawk." There was a touch of laughter to Cindy's voice as she spoke. This was the route they always took across the border, and they were all rather familiar with the path by now; eyesight had nothing to do with it. At the speed they were going, it took less than a minute for them to arrive.

Because of the relatively low amount of traffic which passed through this particular checkpoint, it was a favorite of the Blue Roses. Getting across the border was a relatively painless process; it took fifteen minute in total, and most of that was spent waiting in one of the fourteen lanes for their turn to pass through. It wouldn't be until the girls tried to come back to Arizona that the hassle would begin. Still, sitting in one place for fifteen minutes was far too long so far as Nova was concerned, and her companions found themselves struggling to keep up with the woman not long after they passed the gate.

Night had already settled by the time the Roses arrived at their destination: a nondescript shack among a sea of shacks stinking of filth. The girls were all on edge, fully aware of how exposed they were. Three American women, unarmed, in the middle of a Mexican slum. Things could go bad fast if they weren't careful. It wasn't until a familiar face came out to greet them, bringing a host of armed guards, that the girls finally relaxed a little.

"You're early." Martin was a short man in his mid forties, dark skinned with jet black hair and speaking heavily accented English. He was overweight, balding, and generally of poor hygiene. However, he was also the last man you wanted to cross in this part of Mexico. He had connections in both high and low places, as well as a well deserved reputation for being ruthless. He was also the Blue Roses' business partner.

Having met their associate, the girls finally stepped from their bikes and removed their helmets. Nova was the first, eager to remove her stuffy headgear now that they weren't riding anymore. Sweat beaded on her red skin, a feature inherited from her grandmother, and she took a moment to brush her hand through her short black hair. Elena followed suit, exposing her almond skin and black locks, features that marked her as the granddaughter of illegal immigrants. By contrast, Cindy's blonde ponytail and pale skin stood out.

"I don't like meeting at night." Being the senior member, Elena took charge.

"Night is better. Fewer eyes." Martin waved the girls inside as he spoke. The girls followed.

"And more dangers." Martin didn't acknowledge Elena's comment.

As far as shacks go, this one wasn't bad. It was larger than its neighbors by half, and its tin roof had relatively few leaks. However, the girls weren't here to admire the decor. Martin led the girls to the far corner, pushing a section of the wall aside to expose a set of low stairs. The girls had to crouch in order to make their way down.

"How are things on the other side?" Martin was referring to the Blue Roses' end of their deal. While Martin ran the Mexican side of their smuggling racket, the girls ran the American side, using their citizenship in order to travel unmolested.

"You would know more about that than me." Though Elena was a senior member, she was still only a runner; she had little involvement with the business side of things. Besides, like most Roses, she was hesitant to engage in small talk with men. Claiming to know nothing would likely put an end to the conversation. Martin grunted in response but spoke no further.

The group descended in silence for the last dozen seconds. The lab was buried a good forty foot beneath ground level, having originally been a bunker to protect members of the cartel during emergencies. However, Martin had repurposed it. Now it served as a hideout for their own smuggling racket.

As the girls reached the bottom, low lamplight illuminated their surroundings. The lab was little more than a concrete room, thirty foot across and seven foot high. Vents sat in the far walls, drawing air from an unseen set of tunnels, yet still failing to get rid of the stale stench in the air. Seven dirty faces stared up at the girls.

"Live cargo, again?" A note of disgust crept into Cindy's voice as she spoke.

"They paid." Martin's response was matter of fact. His customers had paid the price of travel. That was all he cared about. A large stack of cocaine bricks sat on a metal table in the middle of the room: the other part of their cargo.

"No point stalling." Elena sighed, turning to face Martin with a meaningful stare.

"I know, I know." Martin waved dismissively, turning to climb back up the stairs. After the girls were sure he was gone, they turned towards their cargo.

"Should we do the bricks first, or the people?" Though Nova already knew the answer, she asked Elena just to be sure.

"The bricks." As she spoke, Elena walked over towards the far wall where a nondescript crate waited. The Hispanic woman opened the crate without a moment's hesitation, riffling through the copious amounts of insulation which cushioned the device within. After a moment, her hand found its prize. As Elena turned back to face the room, a mechanical gauntlet of sorts was affixed to her palm.

"I still don't see how you work that thing." There was an edge of gruffness to Nova's voice as she spoke. The device was a shrinking gauntlet, stolen technology the Blue Roses lent to Martin for his smuggling operation. However, not just anyone could operate the thing. The device was thought controlled, and took years of practice to master, something only the senior members of the Blue Roses were allowed to attempt. Nova had once tried to use one as a bet, only to end up shrinking herself on accident. That was part of the reason Martin didn't simply steal the technology. Without anyone there to grow you back to normal, practicing with a gauntlet was guaranteed to have long-term consequences long before you ever had the chance to master the thing.

"It's easy, once you get the hang of it. It's all about your state of mind." While she was speaking, Elena pressed the gauntlet against the stack of cocaine, shrinking it to less than one-thirtieth its size. What had once been fifty kilos of cocaine bricks was reduced to a kilo and a half in seconds. It had been Elena who had made the bet with Nova resulting in her shrinking, and she was clearly poking fun at her sister by showing off. Cindy produced a handful of condoms and began packing the cocaine inside. After filling the condoms and tying them off, all that was left were the passengers.

"I think you frightened them." A touch of humor colored Nova's tone as she eyeballed their soon to be passengers.

"They think it's black magic." Elena's tone was matter of fact, discouraging any further discourse. Putting on a reassuring smile, the senior Rose beaconed towards the group of soon-to-be immigrants.

"Primero?" Despite her Mexican heritage, Elena spoke very little Spanish. Her mother had married a white man, seeking to give her daughter an advantage in America. She'd taken after her mother anyways. It took a lot of coaxing and a lot of smiling, but eventually a woman stepped forward. She looked to be the spouse of one of the men present.

Gently, Elena sat her hand upon the woman's shoulder, careful not to startle her. However, the wife still flinched at the Rose's touch, clearly afraid. Elena cooed to the woman for a moment, waiting until she met her eyes before proceeding.

"Alright, I'm going to begin. Empiezo. Comprendes?" Elena's voice was soft and soothing. Though the woman was trembling a bit, she nodded none the less.

Not wanting to give the woman the chance to reconsider, Elena hurried to shrink her. In a matter of moments, the Mexican woman was reduced from the size of an adult, to a child's, to a doll's, and finally to that of a finger. Gently, Elena crouched down next to the panicked woman, lightly scooping her up on her palm.

"Shh. It's okay." Elena calmly cooed to her passenger, seeking to calm her down. To Nova, she seemed almost maternal in those moments, as if soothing a child, though she knew it was just an act to calm down their cargo. Nova had never taken the time to ask after Elena's past, it wasn't her business to pry into painful memories, but as she watched, she suspected it had something to do with a child. Once the wife was sufficiently calmed down, Elena placed her within a small plastic sphere, it's solid walls pockmarked with air holes. The ball was swiftly handed off to Cindy for safe keeping.

From there, the shrinking process went rather smoothly. Apparently, after seeing Elena treat the first passenger with such gentleness, the rest were much less timid about the whole process. Most of them took to the change rather easily, requiring little to no adjustment time before they were safely packed away in their balls. By the end they had the wife, her husband, and her adult daughter in one cluster, two sisters in another, and an unrelated man and woman in a third.

"Alright, so who's going to take three?" It was Cindy who asked, her face a little flushed.

"I'll take the sisters and the man." There was a resigned note to Nova's voice.

"Alright, we'll distribute the cocaine so as to give you a little less to deal with." As she spoke, Elena slid a hand down to the button of her jeans, unclasping it.

An awkward silence filled the room as the girls unbuttoned their jeans, preparing to insert their cargo. No matter how many times they repeated this ritual, it always felt awkward to do this sort of thing with an audience present. Lowering their pants and undergarments to their knees, just low enough to grant them access, the girls started with the cocaine.

Taking a small bottle of lube from her pocket, Nova lubed up the cocaine before passing the bottle around, careful not to make eye-contact. Hooking her finger between her cheeks, the woman proceeded to press the condoms into herself on at a time, pushing them past her sphincter and into her rectum. A light jolt of pain shot through the Rose's abdomen at the unusual intrusion, causing her eyes to water. The feeling was always foul, the wet squelching nauseating. Well, being a Rose wasn't without its downsides. After a few minutes of disgusted expressions, the cocaine was nowhere to be seen.

"I really hate this part. I can't stand the thought of being watched." Cindy crossed her arms, turning her head away from the cluster of plastic spheres.

"Would it make it easier if I took the man?" Cindy actually met Elena's eyes for a moment before turning away, nodding slightly.

"Please..." Cindy sounded pathetic, and she knew it, and that knowledge made deflate further.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it." Elena put as much compassion as she could into her voice. Cindy had had an especially rough relationship with her father. She was only eighteen and had already been in the Roses for two years, having been forced to flee home for her life. She wouldn't talk about what happened, even after all this time, but she still harbored a strong fear of men.

Lubricating the spheres, Elena was the first one to insert her passengers, pressing them gently against her vaginal passage. She took the wife from earlier and her husband, leaving the couple's daughter and the lone woman to Cindy. Nova inserted the lone man first, cursing softly as she did so. Her own experience had left her hating men, but thankfully she loved the Roses more, so she was able to suffer through the experience. The two sisters followed shortly. After everyone was fully clothed once more, they cleaned up before gathering their things and returning upstairs.

Nova had a special hatred for climbing stairs after inserting cargo. The way they made her lift her legs and bounce her body left her hyper aware of the three plastic spheres stuffed up her velvet tunnel. She could feel them shift with every step, stretching her outward and clacking together. The stimulation turned her discomfort into arousal and the thought of having a man inside her turned her arousal into hatred, leaving her wet and angry. She hated the way her body seemed to betray her. Looking to her side, two flushed faces greeted her, sharing a reassuring smile despite their own apparent discomfort. Nova returned it.

Martin was waiting outside for them, his armed guards watching over the bikes. Elena and him exchanged a momentary look, followed by a nod, before the girls headed over towards their bikes. In a moment they were off, their business having been concluded, heading back towards the border.

The trip back through the checkpoint took considerably longer going into Arizona than coming out of it. The girls had to sit through a half hour of searches and investigation prior to being allowed back through, including a pass over by a drug dog. All the while, the Roses couldn't help but think of the passengers nestled deep within their womanhoods, listening to every groan of their body, experiencing every smell, and watching. Though it only took an hour for them to pass through the checkpoint, time passed at a snail's pace. It was with a huge sigh of relief that the girls were finally allowed to go free.

After another hellish hour, the Roses finally arrived back at their headquarters, a motorcycle shop that also doubled as a bar. Taking the time to unload their cargo, the girls collected their payments for the day's work before heading their separate ways. Cindy went home while Elena remained at the shop, presumably to give a debriefing. Nova decided to go for a ride before heading back to her apartment.

Once more Nova's engine roared like thunder, the constant hum vibrating against the her nether region and pushing the already aroused woman towards the brink. The two wheels beneath her pulled her ever forward, her pleasure reaching new heights as the world surged by. Dust and wind battered the biker as she stripped off her blue helmet, setting it on the back of her bike to better enjoy the breeze tearing at her face, her pleasure growing in intensity the faster she went. Nova couldn't help but laugh at the feeling of it all.

For four years she had enjoyed a new life with her sisters, free of her abusive husband. For four years, she had worked to rebuild herself, to make herself a stronger woman. For four years, despite the happiness her sisters had brought, Nova had never forgotten her hatred of men or how she had been wronged. The Roses had taken her in and built her up into the woman she was today, and yet despite that, today she had betrayed them. She had only turned in two passengers, not three. With a teeth-grinding shriek of angry passion, Nova came, bombarding her stolen orb with orgasmic hatred and further humiliating the man trapped within.

Despite his bleeding fingers, Adam continued to scratch at the cardboard wall before him, desperate to escape. The pain in his digits paled in comparison to the terror writhing in his belly, the gripping certainty that if he didn't escape he would die. In pursuit of his next high, the addict had borrowed money he'd known he couldn't pay back from people he shouldn't have crossed. The time had come to pay back his dues, and unfortunately Adam was a bit short on cash.

The worst part about this whole situation was Adam knew exactly what was going on. It was a modern craze: some poor sap would be shrunken down via industrial storage units and used for sexual entertainment of one sort or another. Sometimes, the unlucky person would be sold to a rich client; other times they were used in a show or some sick game. Adam had seen his fair share of videos on the internet, had seen the torturous ends of many unwilling participants, and had even pleasured himself to a few such shows. He knew what was coming, had realized immediately the moment he'd awoken to find himself naked and lying on cardboard that he had been shrunken and sold. Mind numbing fear fueled the man, driving him to ignore the pain in his hands as he futilely clawed away in the dark.

Adam froze as his ears picked up a faint sound, one he soon recognized as approaching footsteps. Silently, the man held his breath, hoping against hope that he would be passed by. He just needed a few more minutes and he'd be free, or at least he hoped so. The gentle upward shifting of his prison was like a mortal wound to the man. Moments later he was tossed to the side as whoever held him turned, carrying Adam towards damnation.

Left with no chance of escape, Adam was left only one option, to grieve. He recognized that this was to be his end, to die for someone else's entertainment. The shrunken man cursed the world, blaming it for his misfortune. Even in what would probably be his last hour on earth, he still couldn't take accountability for his actions, though it had been his own choices which had brought him to this point. Tears flowed freely down Adam's cheeks as the sound of voices drifted into the captive's box.

"For our next auction, we have two young women up for bid: a blonde of eighteen and her older sister. Their possible fates are up for auction as we speak. The performers for this event will be Ashley and Yuki. Bids start at twenty-thousand." Seconds after realizing he was at an auction, light flooded Adam's world and he was roughly dumped into a clear, plastic box.

It only took a few moments for Adam to right himself, collecting his wits as he looked around. His clear container rested upon a podium of some sort, set in the middle of a stage. Two women stood within a ring of cameras as various cameramen jostled to get the best view. Off to the side, the auctioneer stood in front of a green screen, facing a camera.

Seeing little better to do, Adam decided to examine his soon-to-be executioners. The nearest of the women was a curvy red-head, Ashley most likely, her pale skin freckled lightly in what could be seen as an attractive manner. A curtain of curly amber hair drifted lazily down her back, ending between the woman's shoulder blades. She wore an outfit composed of leather straps which seemed a little too small for her rather large bust. Her crotch was hairless, and judging by the fluids snaking their way along her thigh, the woman was very eager to go to work. She held one of the unfortunate victims in her open palm, the younger sister, showing the doomed figure off to the camera.

Adam's eyes drifted to the other woman whose back faced him, Yuki presumably, and a sudden dread overcame him. She was a petite Asian, perhaps five-foot-four inches at most, with sleek black hair trailing down to the small of her back. Topless, she wore a ridiculously short skirt which failed to conceal her tight bottom. Adam recognized the girl from one of the video's he'd watched; it was what the man knew to wait on the other side of the woman that made his stomach turn. Sure enough, as the woman turned in the direction of his container, a half flaccid penis swayed in time with her small breasts.

"The bids are in, and it seems that the fates of our vixens are... the salty swallow and the button masher!" Ashley smiled down at the woman within her palm as the auctioneer revealed the girls' fates. The doomed figure had only a moment to recoil in horror before, with a sudden jolt of motion, she was popped in her handler's gaping mouth. Unfortunately for Adam, those running the production apparently had a sick sense of humor. A large screen TV had been set up near to his container, granting Adam a front row seat to the fates of his predecessors, ones he might soon share.

The camera zoomed in on the red-head's mouth as she held it open, playing to the camera as she toyed with the younger sister. Adam watched as Ashley tossed her tongue about, flipping the naked teen within around at a sensuous pace. The performer made a show of running her hands down her body, leaving one to fondle hear breast as the other lazily headed towards her crotch, slipping between two straps before sinking into her dripping sex. The Ashley burbled and moaned sensually to the camera, her fake cries of pleasure contrasting against the sincere cries for mercy from her captive.

As her partner entertained the audience, Yuki went to work, putting on a finger condom before grabbing the remaining woman from a nearby assistant. In a moment, the man held out a small tub of adhesive which the performer lightly dipped the covered pad of her finger in. Using her other hand to restrain the older sister, Yuki gently pressed against the back of her captive, ignoring her toy's wails as she waited for the glue to set.

After taking a minute for the adhesive to harden, the fem-boy sidled up to the moaning actress, grabbing her by the chin. After pausing for a moment to add suspense, Yuki pushed her lips against the other's sealing the struggling toy between their mouths. In a leisurely fashion, her pale hands drifted to wrap around Ashley, her fingers drifting towards the cleft of the other actress's butt before hooking around the edge of her hams, pulling them apart. The shrieks of distress emanating from Yuki's finger were cut off as she lightly toyed with her partner's meaty ring, grinding her plaything's face against the fleshy rosebud.

Adam watched in horror as this grotesque kissing session continued, incapable of tearing his eyes away from the undulating couple. The camera zoomed in as Yuki's finger proceeded to move from Amber's rim and delve deeper, exposing her hapless toy to the humid sensations trapped beyond the red-head's puckered ring. The curvy woman would gasp with each intrusion, her mouth opening to show the camera her still struggling captive before returning to the kiss. On occasion, the red-head would reveal her mouth to be empty, and a camera would zoom to Yuki's tight-lipped smile, catching a flailing limb sticking out from between her lips. After a dozen or so seconds of probing, Yuki's finger would withdraw, allowing her toy a momentary reprieve from her partner's slimy depths..

As the action continued, Yuki's meat continued to grow stiffer and stiffer, rising to press against her partner's belly. In response, Ashley ground herself against the throbbing pillar, exciting it further and teasing the fem-boy. Eventually, Yuki's panting expression of lust became real, and with a knowing smile the red-head gently grasped her partner's hand, pulling the finger condom free. Placing the sobbing toy upon her own middle digit, Ashley slowly lowered herself to the floor, getting on her knees directly before Yuki's uncut meat.

A tremor of dread ran through Adam as Ashley gently cupped her partner's scrotum, using the hand adorned with the struggling toy. She took her time, blowing gently on the swaying pillar as she ground her hand into Yuki's warm orbs, teasing the gasping performer. Eventually, the red-head took the tip of the fem-boy's member into her mouth, using her tongue to press her miniature captive against its rounded mass and pausing to let the camera drink in the sight before clamping down. A cry of passion escaped the Asian's lips as Ashley's mouth surged forward, claiming half of the meat's length in a matter of moments.

For a few seconds, Adam couldn't help but imagine it was himself within Ashley's mouth and a shudder went down his spine. Truth be told, Adam was a little homophobic, his parents having ingrained a strong sense of heterosexuality into him at a young age. So, the possibility of being pressed against some fem-boy's cock, of being abused and used by someone he saw as male, filled the man with disgust. A wet squelching noise filled the room as Ashley pressed her head forward, claiming still more of her partner's length.

Confusion struck Adam for a moment as the camera angle suddenly shifted away from the action, revealing a slightly upward shot of Yuki's pale ass cheeks. From between her legs, Ashley could still be seen pleasuring her co-performer, her body undulating as she rhythmically rocked her head back and forward. However, the other angle had clearly been better, so why would they shift? Adam's question was answered a few seconds later, to his horror.

Adam felt physically ill as he watched his worst nightmare unfold. With a painful slowness, Ashley's hand crept back towards the camera, the screen's view gradually zooming in. Still struggling, the camera focused on the miniature woman glued to the red-head's finger, displaying her disgusted expression and tired struggles for freedom with HD quality. It was all so clear that Adam could see the way the woman's face compressed as she was dragged across the fem-boy's taint, a thin sheen of Ashley's own rectal mucus lubricating her passage. Eventually, the woman reached her final destination. Adam's knees gave out as the woman's face was pressed against Yuki's wrinkled ring.

Adam shuddered as the screaming blond's face was ground into Yuki's foulest hole, shaking his head at her pitiable fate. However, his reactions didn't stem from a place of virtue. Adam's disgust stemmed from the possibility that he may share the older sister's end, that he may end up exploring the depths of Yuki's bowels. A violent spasm overcame the miniature man's body as Ashley suddenly forced her fingers upward, pressing her toy into a rectum for the second time that day.

The camera spent the next few minutes jumping between points of interest. Ashley continued to pleasure Yuki's cock, fighting to take as much of the herm's meat into her mouth as possible. Occasionally, the girl would draw back to reveal her struggling toy, on one occasion leaving the unfortunate blond atop Yuki's member before engulfing her once more. Every once in a while, the camera would flash to a shot of the fem-boy's pale ass, watching as Ashley's unfortunate finger toy was pulled free, only to be reinserted seconds later. A tightening of Yuki's body signaled that things were approaching their climax.

"I'm coming." Yuki's hoarse whisper signaled Ashley to action, and with a jolt of energy the red-head redoubled her efforts. The wet squelches of lips on cock filled the room and with a savage thrust, the performer's finger was pushed deeper than ever before, grinding into her partner's prostate. Yuki doubled over from the intensity of the pleasure, savagely gripping Ashley's hair as she forced the woman down on her member, pushing the her partner down to the balls. Yuki let out a long moan of passion as her body thrashed and her ass cheeks clenched, dumping her load into Ashley's mouth.

After Yuki unloaded, Ashley carefully extracted herself from her partner, withdrawing a good distance from the still throbbing meat. Facing the camera, the red-head opened her mouth, displaying the shaking form of her toy amidst a splash of cum. For a few moments Ashley flicked her tongue, moving her blond plaything around before closing her mouth. With an audible gulp, the woman swallowed, opening her mouth to the camera once more to reveal an empty pallet.

A moment later, the camera shifted, focusing on the Asian performer's ass once more. With sadistic slowness, Amber retracted her finger, pulling her digit free of Yuki's still clenched ass cheeks. The camera zoomed in on the woman's bare finger. There was no sign of the finger condom or the unfortunate blond who had been attached to it. Ashley gave her partner's bottom a quick slap.

"Alright then. For our next auction, we have a twenty-four year old male..." As the auctioneer began setting up for Adam's turn, a sudden nausea overcame the man. Strength left Adam's body and he fell to his side, retching violently at his oncoming fate. He didn't want to die! A soft hand snaked its way into his container snatching up the still heaving plaything.

Like a child with a new toy, Vanessa affixed her cold gaze upon the squirming individual clutched within her hand, her eyes gleaming with malice. How fragile the woman looked, tears staining her pale cheeks. How miserable she looked, straining her tiny hands against the pale fist which held her. At the slightest inclination, Vanessa could have squeezed, collapsing her tiny captive's rib cage and ending her insignificant existence. It would have been easy; almost comically so. However, that would have defeated the purpose of acquiring the girl in the first place. In a casual motion, Vanessa rubbed her thumb across the girl's jaw, taking in the sensation of thin plastic against her skin.

Starting at the neck, a thin red mask crept up the girl's face, ending just beneath the nose. Its purpose wasn't to obscure, however. The device had been purposefully designed to leave most of the face exposed so as Vanessa could drink in her prisoner's anguished expressions. No, it's purpose was far more diabolical. Wedged within the girl's mouth, a plastic tube held her mouth ajar. The mask, in turn, held it in place, preventing removal even by the captive's desperate hands.

"Oh, my sweet pet. The fun we will have." Vanessa's voice trembled with near hysteric anticipation as she stroked the girl's hair, playing with her amber locks. There were simply so many things she wished to do to her plaything; so many perversions she wished to visit upon her captive. However, a person could only die once. After a moment, Vanessa emerged from her musing.

"Ah, but I almost forgot. Where are my manners. You must be terribly confused." A smile played across Vanessa's face as she looked down at the woman struggling against her grip.

"Who I am. Where you are. What I intend to do to you. These questions must be burning inside you, filling you with uncertainty and dread. Well, allow to ease some of your concerns." The girl grew deathly still at Vanessa's tone of voice, either in apprehension or genuine desire for answers.

"Firstly, allow me to introduce myself. I am Vanessa." Vanessa gave a little nod of her head, sending her golden locks spilling forward.

"As for where you are. Why, you're in my room of course. It's not much, but it serves my needs." Vanessa made a show of waving her new toy around, giving her a quick view of her room. A chair sat in the middle of the floor, a camera and tripod facing directly into the front of its seat. It was at the perfect height to stare at someone's crotch.

"Now, as for what I intend to do to you. Why, that's a bit more difficult to answer." Vanessa allowed a pause to fill the room, deciding how to continue.

"Where to begin? Well, I guess it's best to start with why." Vanessa mused to herself for a bit before continuing.

"You see, I'm very different from the typical girl. Sure, I go to work, hang out with friends, and engage in the average day to day activities of my peers, but it's all hollow to me. The everyday hustle and bustle, the little joys in life, they lack meaning. Love, friendship, humor, the things that bring joy to others are merely tedious to me. They fail to excite any emotion save boredom. The only thing that brings satisfaction to me, the only thing that has ever brought satisfaction to me, is the suffering of others. A sickness, some might call it. However, for me it is my ever waking reality." Vanessa paused for a moment, running a pale finger through her shimmery hair as she allowed her words to sink in.

"It's hard to put into words; the feeling that is. Maybe the easiest way to describe it is by comparing it to empathy. You see, with empathy, you feel another's pain and anguish as if it were your own. However, with me, it's the opposite. I feel the lack of their pain." Vanessa paused for a minute, tapping a finger against her pink lips before deciding how to continue.

"When I strike someone, my body cries in joy that it isn't my cheek that is being bruised. When someone else laments the loss of a loved one, my psyche sings out that it isn't my loss. The tears of others are like sweet, sweet nectar to me. They sustain me. They fulfill me. That is why you are here, now, struggling in my grasp." Vanessa gave a light squeeze of her hand, eliciting a cry of pain from her captive.

"I want... no, need your suffering. However, it's more than that. I need to bring your suffering to its peak. I need to build the anticipation, to educate you on every facet of your torment so as you may fully appreciate it. I need you to experience every agonizing moment of your demise before it even starts. I need you to understand not only the torment that I will be putting you through, but the immense pleasure it will bring me." A passion burned in Vanessa's voice, almost reverent. For a minute, she remained silent, drinking in the suspense. However, eventually she focused on her captive once more.

"You are a person. You aren't a toy. You aren't an animal. You have aspirations, family, friends, and loved ones. You can think and feel, exactly the same as I can. In fact, you and I are no different on the fundamental level. We both have a soul. We're both human. However, it is exactly because we are so similar that I will end all of that. Today, I will shove you up my ass." Tiny as she was, Vanessa could still make out the high pitched wail coming from her hand. After taking a moment to savor the smaller woman's anguish, she continued.

"Do you see that chair over there?" Vanessa motioned towards the chair, table, and camera sitting in the middle of the room.

"That is where I will put you in. The camera is set up so as to capture every moment of the insertion." Vanessa took a moment to steady herself before continuing.

"Do you see that table?" Vanessa nodded towards a table in the far corner.

"Upon it rests a clear, plastic butt plug. Within that plug rests a small camera. However, despite its size, it's of the highest quality. The plug itself is hollow and full of holes so as to grant you air during your stay within my rectum. There's even a little fan in it, further reducing your risk of suffocation. Not only that, but it's custom made so as to have a flattened nose rather than a tapered one so as to provide as little distortion as possible. A small light will illuminate your confines, allowing you to appreciate every detail of your captivity as well as allowing my camera to capture quality footage." Vanessa's breath was coming in shallow huffs, but she was too wrapped up in her explanation to stop and calm herself.

"In order to keep your confinement as uncomfortable as possible, I have done as little preparation as is necessary. Though I have refrained from eating for the past twenty-four hours, I have not cleansed myself in any way, shape, or form. However, my last bowel movement was a little over three hours ago, so it should take plenty of time for your confines to fill back up and for you to meet your ultimate end.

Ultimately, I have decided not to use lubricant. This was something I debated over for some time, but ultimately I came to the conclusion that any form of lubrication might shield you from the full array of textures within my bowels. How could you truly appreciate the walls of my rectum tugging at you if they simply slid past? However, you don't have to worry about being pulled in deeper. Gravity and your own wriggling should be more than enough to pull you towards my anus, keeping you from suffocation." Vanessa's suddenly found her free hand worming against the outside of her panties and quickly pulled it away. There would be plenty of time for that later.

"After I have fully inserted you, I will go about my day as usual. This isn't to belittle your importance or to make you feel unnoticed. Not at all. I will be fully aware of your every movement up until the moment I go to bed. It will instead be to remind you of everything I am taking from you and to show you that, despite how unfair it is, the very person who damned you to smother in her feces will continue to enjoy these things. In fact, I have the entire day planned out." Vanessa bit her lip, drinking in her captive's crushed expression.

"First, I'm going to eat breakfast. Neither of us has eaten for at least a day, and if I'm going to suffocate you in my shit, it's only natural that I have to start the process some time. It's also sure to remind you of your own hunger.

Next, I'm meeting with some friends to go work out at the gym. As you can probably tell by my athletic build, I'm a bit of a exercise fanatic. However, it also gives me a good excuse to torment you. Sit-ups, pushups, squats, and jogging are sure to jostle and squeeze you in all sorts of interesting ways, and the rise in body temperature should serve to accentuate your anguish.

Once I've finished exercising, I have a lunch date planned with my mother. She's a sweet, old woman; full of joy and energy. She's never shown me anything less than unconditional love, and I'm sure that her presence and kind words will only serve to remind you of your own mother. You'll wonder what the last thing you said to her was, worry about how she'll accept your loss, and regret not spending more time with her. That is, of course, assuming she hasn't already passed." A small frown crumpled Vanessa's mouth as she cocked her head to the side, only just now considering the possibility.

"Well, no plan can be perfect I suppose. Anyways, I've got a few errands to run later on in the afternoon; going to the mall, shopping for groceries, and various other things of that nature. However, it won't be until I get home that the real fun begins.

You see, by then you should be becoming better acquainted with my breakfast, or should I say my breakfast should be becoming better acquainted with you? Either way, my colon should be starting to fill up by about this time and your accommodations should be becoming a bit more cramped. Over the course of the afternoon, my filth will come to press against the soles of your feet, if it doesn't out right encapsulate your legs. However, it won't be until sometime during the night that my lunch finally manages to reach you." Once more, Vanessa brought her thumb up to stroke her captive's plastic mask, laughing as the girl pulled away.

"By now, it should be perfectly transparent what purpose that mask of yours serves, but allow me to describe it for you anyways. As my shit slowly creeps its way over your body, the pressure of my rectum will compress it against you, forcing it into every crease and crevice of your body. It'll seep between your legs, into your hair, into your cunt, until eventually nothing remains but your head. The heat will be impossible to bear and the sludgy texture will be something between loose clay and compost. However, you won't have to bear it long. Eventually, my shit will overcome you, forcing its way into your mouth and down your throat. You will die choking on my shit, baking in my bowels, and utterly alone." Vanessa's legs trembled as she spoke. She had a faraway look on her face, as if imagining her victim's final moments.

"Of course, I'm going to masturbate throughout the day, taking pleasure at your circumstances. The gym, the restaurant, the mall, the grocery. At each of these places, I'll quietly slip into a bathroom to remind you of how much I'm enjoying your suffering. I'll tickle you through the rear wall of my vagina so as it will be impossible for you to believe I have forgotten about you; hoping you'll lash out at me and add to my excitement. Even when I'm not fondling myself, I'll give you a clench every so often, just to make sure you're still awake. Then, after the day's over and I finally make it home, I'll spend the rest of the day poking a prodding myself until it's time for bed." Vanessa leaned forward, drawing her victim closer and dropping her voice to a whisper.

"However, in your final moments, as the shit creeps its way over your body, violating your every crevice, you won't be a person. Awake, I will think of you. I will clench you, prod you, and poke you because I know you're a person in the very depths of suffering. However, as a lay unconscious enjoying a night's rest, no such attention shall be directed to you. No longer will you be a shrunken person, lodged within my rectum and waiting to choke to death. Instead, you'll be shit. To my body, you will be just another piece of filth to pass. Your end will not be met at the purposeful efforts of your torturer, but instead by the uncaring functions of the human colon. No one will think of you in your final moments. You will die as nothing more than debris in my rectal passage."

For a long moment, Vanessa stood there, lost in her own thoughts and oblivious to the world. Her loins burned as they never had before, and somewhere deep within her chest her perverted sense of empathy cooed. This was it. Today she would finally fulfill her deepest fantasy.

Fixing her eyes on the sobbing mess in her hand, Vanessa tried hard to commit this girl's face to memory. Once more, she took in the slim figure, the pale skin, and the amber hair of her victim. Once more, she stroked her thumb across the brilliant red mask affixed to her face. Then, with deliberate slowness, Vanessa turned towards her chair.

"Thirty minutes until you're on." Courtney cringed as the toneless screech of her manager carried through the closed door, grinding her teeth in annoyance. The young star's head was pounding from the night before, a result of copious amounts of alcohol and not enough sleep, and the last thing she needed at the moment was the ear piercing squawk of some middle-aged sow. Running her fingers through her short, black hair, the guitarist let out a sigh, leaning back against the leather cushions of her chair.

"What's wrong? Party too hard?" Beth's words lacked any degree of concern, instead carrying a note of cattiness as per the norm. While Courtney, dressed in the black garbs of a Goth, was referred to as the "Devil" of Shotgun Lollipop, Beth's moniker was that of the "Angel," though things couldn't have been farther from the truth. The fans would have been devastated to learn that, despite her kind and quiet facade, she was as loud and bitchy as the best of them. However, her most damning secret was that, despite her ample bosom and feminine curves, the parts between her legs were not that of a lady.

"Mind your own damned business drag queen. Why don't you go beat your meat or something." Irritable and hung-over, Courtney lashed out at Beth, her voice cracked and raw. Beth brushed aside a stray strand of her blond hair, her pale cheeks flushing red with anger at the mention of her sex.

"Don't you fucking dare mention that in public. We've got to go onto live television in thirty minutes. You hear me? Thirrrrty Minnnnutes. Yet, here you are with a fucked up voice, again!" Beth's nails dug into the arm of her chair as she spoke, the soft creak of straining leather punctuating her words. Courtney took a sip of her water, clearly ignoring the group's singer. She knew from experience that by engaging with the sharp tongued blond, she would only end up on the losing side of the argument. Besides, it wasn't as if there were any real risk of her spoiling the singer's secret. They were in a private room after all. The best course of action was to remain silent and allow her coworker to work herself into a tizzy. Before things could escalate too far, their third intervened.

"Hey, cut it out. You've had this argument over a dozen times, and each time it ends the same. Heather strains her voice yelling, and Beth doesn't change. This time, can we just skip the drama, do our jobs, and get this over with?" Despite the softness of Heather's voice, it carried with it a weight of authority, and immediately both fell silent. Dressed in a suit and fedora, the drummer was the least outstanding of the three, wearing her short brown hair in a plain fashion. She was quiet, reserved, and according to Shotgun Lollipop's fan base, she was the least popular of the three idols. However, despite this, her role was irreplaceable. Of all the people in the world, only Heather could mitigate Beth and Courtney's infighting. Without her, there would be no Shotgun Lollipop.

"Fine." Both of the girl's grumbled in unison, darting a glance towards one another. There was something about the unshakable nature of Heather that intimidated them, as if there was always something she knew that they didn't and to disagree with her was stupid. Then again, maybe it was true. Every time either of the girls had gone against the drummer's advice, something bad had happened. Sighing at the throbbing pain in her temples, Courtney reached into the pocket of her leather jacket, producing a small bottle.

"Really? You're going to do that here?" Beth scoffed in disgust as she sighted the innocuous bottle.

"What? You were just complaining about how hung-over I was. Now you're complaining about my remedy?" Courtney rolled her eyes as she twisted off the cap to her bottle, ignoring the other woman's glare.

"What remedy? You're just popping more pills."

"Enough." Once more, Heather's broke in, tossing a knowing glance with Beth and putting an end to the argument. As Courtney leaned her head back to swallow from her water bottle, a small gleam caught the corner of her eye. Turning, the guitarist found herself staring at a small end table, its only decoration a small lamp.

"What?" Heather's voice peaked in interest as her coworker continued to look, refusing to break her gaze.

"I don't know. I could have sworn I saw a flash."

"You probably see a lot of things." Once more, Beth's catty voice broke in. However, Courtney merely waved her off. Standing up, the dark haired girl made her way towards the table.

"No, I'm serious. There was something there. I don't know what..." As Courtney reached the table, her voice trailed away, a look of astonishment crossing her face. However, after a moment, her face changed to one of panic. Reaching downward, the starlet quickly dove for something, knocking over the lamp in the process and nearly smashing her face against the table.

"What the fuck is this?" A mixture between surprise and horror, Courtney cautiously rose, holding her cupped hands outright as she turned to face the other two. Curious, Beth and Heather both leaned closer.

"Is that..." Beth's voice trailed off as she got a good look at what lay within Courtney's palms.

Quivering and clearly shaken, something resembling a small doll rested within the guitarist's hands, no taller than her middle finger. He looked to be male, though at that size it was hard to tell, wearing a long sleeve shirt a jeans of some sort. Various pieces of climbing gear were interspersed upon his person, and a large backpack clung to his back. A camera dangled from a strap around the man's neck.

"Is that a camera?" Heather's voice was flat as she examined the tiny man, her tone unrecognizable. At her words, the man fumbled with his strap around his neck, seeking to conceal the device.

"Oh shit. A journalist." Beth's voice was tight with panic. Immediately, she reached forward, pressing her finger into the man's chest, seeking to take his camera.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! He snapped a picture of my pills. You don't think he got a clear picture, do you?" Courtney's voice was shaking, her uncertainty clear. With a few quick strides, Beth was at her side.

"Hand it over." Heather's words were sharp as anger colored her tone, an uncommon sight for the normally unshakable brunette. However, rather than comply, the journalist immediately dropped to cradle his camera.

"Son of a..." Courtney flushed red, her temper rising.

"Oh shit, you stupid cunt, he heard." Beth's face paled as the realization hit her, and Heather's head snapped sharply towards the blond. Courtney's eyes widened.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry." As realization of what she'd done washed over Courtney, Heather extended her hand forward. The Goth passed the man over without hesitation.

"The camera, NOW!" Heather's normally stony composure continued to crack as the pressure began to mount. As the cameraman continued to refuse to cooperate, the brunette shifted tactics, tightening her fist around him.

"What are you doing?!" Courtney's voice was a mixture of shock and horror, but Heather paid her no mind, focused on her task.

"I'm getting the camera."

"You can't just squeeze him. What if you injure him?" The room grew silent as the Heather released her grip, opening her hand once more.

"The camera." Where before, Heather's voice had been close to breaking, it now seemed cold and emotionless. A shiver went down Courtney and Beth's spines. Sensing the shift in mood, the journalist complied, handing over his camera.

"Do either of you have a pocket?" Heath's eyes panned across the other two women, taking in their outfits. They were all in costume, tight jeans and silky pants, ready for their interview on live television. However, any pockets were merely for show. After a moment, Beth walked over and picked up her bag.

"There's a side pocket on my purse." The blond held her bag outstretched, exposing the open pocket. In a single, smooth motion, the drummer quickly deposited the camera inside.

"Now, should we hand him over to security?" Much of the tension had left Courtney's voice, now that she was sure her pill popping wouldn't be exposed. However, an anxious expression still hovered on Beth's face.

"We can't let him go yet. He knows my secret. What if he has a recorder?" Heather looked over at Beth as she spoke, her voice tight with worry. A moment later, her attention snapped back to the camera man. However, before she could act, their manager's voice called out from the hallway once more.

"You girls have fifteen minutes until you're on." The girls paused for a moment, their faces paling.

"Oh shit. What do we do?" Courtney was once again at a near panicked state.

"He's so small. It's not like we can search him. We'll have to strip him naked in order to make sure he doesn't have anything." Heather's voice was tight, her nervousness clear.

"We don't have time. We have to be out in fifteen minutes. We'll need somewhere to put him so we can deal with him later." Beth was breathless, her head light.

"What about your purse?" Heather wiped some sweat from her forehead as she spoke.

"It buttons. It doesn't zip. He'll be able to climb out. Yours?" At Beth's question, both of the girls shook their heads.

"Oh shit. What are we going to do?" Courtney looked as if she were going to be sick. Once more Heather turned her attention back to the shrunken journalist.

"Your phone. Now." Despite the menace of her command, the journalist didn't budge. Heather's brow furrowed.

"Hand it over or I'll break your arms." To show she meant business, the drummer gave the man a quick flick, knocking the air from his lungs.

"What the hell are you doing?" Courtney's voice rose in shock.

"We don't have time to play around. I'm certain he didn't get into this room without at least one other person helping him, and if he has a phone he can call for help. This is serious. If he does have a recorder and he does manage to get away without us having destroyed the recording, this could very well be the end of Shotgun Lollipop. We can't let Beth's secret get out." Heather gave a pointed look at Courtney, daring her to protest.

"This isn't right. He's a person. We can't just hurt him." Despite her protests, Courtney's voice was weak and unsure. Seeing her co-star somewhat cowed, Heather turned back to the journalist.

"You have one more chance before I start crushing limbs. Hand over your phone." Heather's voice was cold as ice as she stared down at the shrunken man. He didn't hesitate to comply. With a deft motion, the phone joined the camera in Beth's purse.

"Fine, we've got his phone. Now let's put him in a cup or something and let's get out of here." Courtney was clearly uncomfortable with the idea of holding another person captive and was eager to get things over with. However, once more, Heather chimed in.

"No. We have to take him with us. If we leave him here, someone might find him or he might even end up in the trash."

"Then what do we do? None of our purses zip and none of us have pockets." Courtney seemed as if she were about to break down completely.

"Um, I have something that might work..." Beth's face flushed red as she spoke, uncertainty coloring her tone.

"We don't have the time to be shy. Just say it." Heather's voice was sharp and to the point.

"A...a condom." Beth's voice was nearly unintelligible, barely more than a whisper.

"What do you mean?" Though news of a potential solution had somewhat calmed the guitarist, uneasiness still colored her voice.

"Well, I have a spare set of earrings in my purse. We could use them to poke a whole bunch of holes in the rubber. Then, we could simply put him and tie off the end and leave him in one of our purses." Beth's voice was quiet, as if admitting she used a rubber was paramount to giving away her secret.

"That won't work. We can't bring our purses with us on stage, so we'd still have to leave our bags in the dressing room. If his partner comes look for him and can't get in contact with him, the first place he'll check is our bags. He needs to stay on our person." Heather's words were delivered with a flat tone. The room fell silent, pregnant with anticipation.

"What if we... keep him on our person? You know, like, in our bra?" Beth's voice finally broke the silence, her face going completely crimson as she spoke. Courtney's face flushed a little, and even Heather's face was turning a bit red. The girls all remained silent as they considered the thought. Finally, Heather broke the silence.

"A bra won't work. The weight of our breasts could compress his chest, preventing him from inhaling... We all know what needs to be done. The only question is, who will do it?" Heather ended her words with an ominous tone.

"No fucking way. That's sick." Courtney's disgust was palpable as she spoke.

"You were the one who blabbed in the first place. You should be the one to do it." Beth's voice dripped with accusation, but Courtney simply shook her head.

"I can't and I won't. I'd rather go to jail." Rather than defiant, Courtney's expression was sad. She knew she'd messed up, but she couldn't bring herself to make things right. Sensing she would make no progress, Beth turned towards Heather. A shake of the head was her only reply. Beth quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"I hate you!" Her anger was directed towards Courtney. The guitarist shied away as if physically struck. Using her anger to drive away the disgust, Beth snatched a condom from her purse, tearing it open before proceeding to poke it full of holes.

"Ten minutes left." Once more their manager shouted through the door, unaware of the mood.

"I'm afraid it gets worse." Heather's voice was flat as she hesitated to continue. Beth looked up in alarm.

"How can it get worse?" Before Beth could even voice her concern, Courtney voiced hers.

"If you just put him in your underwear, you'll end up sitting on and killing him. You'll need to do something more."

"No." Beth's refusal was soft and sharp, but no less forceful. Tears began to trail down her cheek, ruining her makeup, but she no longer cared. What did it matter? Her career might very well be over. After a moment, she began to sob. Tears began to well up in Courtney's eyes as well.

"Fine. I'll do it." Heather's voice was soft and resigned. After a moment of stunned silence, she continued.

"Leave. Go get your makeup touched up and tell the manager I'm having some trouble. Say that I'm on my period or something. If I'm going to do this, I'd rather not be watched." Heather's voice was soft and fragile.

"Thank you. Oh God, thank you so much." Tears continued to fall down Beth's cheek, though this time they were tears of joy. Courtney remained silent, feeling miserable.

"Hurry up. We haven't got much time." Heather shooed away the other two women, and soon enough she found herself alone.

"Five minutes." At the sound of her manager's voice, Heather turned to face the journalist.

"And here I'd thought I would have gotten to see something fun. Too bad." In a moment, her demeanor changed. The mask that was Heather, the remorseful girl willing to take one for the good of the group, was gone and in its place was that of Heather, master manipulator, sociopath, and sadist.

"You really are stupid, you know that right? Shrinking yourself down to snap some pictures? One of a thousand different things could've gone wrong, ending in your death, and nobody would've been to blame. You could've been stepped on by accident, tossed in the trash, or even accidentally sucked up by a vacuum cleaner had the janitor decided to stop in for some last second cleaning. Even if you were to go missing, nobody would report what had actually happened. Shrinking a person is a felony with a minimum sentence of twenty-five years." Heather paused, allowing the meaning of her words to set in.

"At least something worthwhile came of this mess." In a single, casual motion, Heather lifted her hand to her mouth, popping her struggling victim onto her tongue. The acidic taste of clothing and body soil struck her taste buds like a fragrant bouquet of fear and desperation, the doomed journalist's struggles stimulating the sensitive tissue of Heather's mouth. With sadistic pleasure, the drummer began to twist her tongue, flipping and prodding the flailing victim resting upon its surface and savoring his panicked struggles. A hand crawled its way into Heather's pants, finding her clit in a matter of seconds and giving it a gentle prod.

"Heather, it's time to go on." With a remorseful sigh, Heather swallowed.

"Alright. I'll be right there." Paying full attention to the struggling in her throat as it steadily crept downward, Heather walked her way to the door of the dressing room, greeting her manager on her way out.

By the time she and the other members of Shotgun Lollipop reached the stage, the squirming sensation that was the journalist had reached her stomach, sending chills down the drummer's spine. Like a lover's caress, his frantic struggles tickled the inside of her belly, intense in their desperation. It was intoxicating, having so much power over another person. Oh, what she wouldn't have given to see the man's face as desperation faded to desolation and he realized his fate. What she wouldn't have given to be able to taunt him, describing in great detail his final form and the way he would leave her body. However, surrounded as she was by cameras, she was forced to resist the urge.

Wanting to prologue the sensation for as long as possible, Heather proceeded to swallow air, endeavoring to prevent a death by suffocation. However, as the struggles began to intensify, she knew her fun had finally reached its end. She could prevent asphyxiation, but not death by acid. If only she'd brought an antacid.

"Heather?" With a start, Heather realized that Courtney was whispering to her, her hand placed over her microphone so as to block the sound. Was it her facial expression? She gave a quick nod to reassure the girl. A few minutes later, the struggles stopped, much to Heather's disappointment.

After the show, Heather would excuse herself from the rest of the band, explaining that she'd take care of the matter of the journalist on her own despite offers of support and companionship from her co-stars. Jumping in a taxi, she explain that she was heading back to the hotel to make sure that she retrieved any recording devices before she handed him over to someone who could make sure this whole incident was handled discreetly. Of course, she didn't.

Instead, she drove a ways out of town and rented a cheap motel. There she spent the afternoon fondling herself and fantasizing about all the things she would have liked to have done with her shrunken captive. Maybe she had been too hasty in swallowing the poor man? No matter. She was a celebrity after all, and there was very little that money couldn't buy in this day and age.