Renée stood just inside the front door as it swung closed with a soft “click,” biting her bottom lip softly as she considered the implications of what struggled and fought weakly in her curled fist. She didn't dare look at them; she somehow felt that gazing on them too long would dispel the illusion, and she would come to realize there was nothing in her hand but air. As long as she didn't look, somehow, it would remain real.

“That you?” She heard her roommate Malcolm call out to her.

“Yep.” She said.

“You okay?” He picked up on the strange intonation of her voice, and started coming up the stairs from the basement toward her.

“Yep.” She repeated. She turned and walked calmly to the couch, sitting down and staring absently at the ground. Malcolm appeared and walked quickly to her side, taking a seat next to her.

“What's up?” He asked. She blinked, then turned to look at him.

“I, uh... I think I did something. I don't know if it was me, but I think it was.”

He laughed, but there was confusion in his voice. “Well, what do you think you did?”

She turned to look at her fist again, and his gaze followed hers. Slowly, she let her fingers uncurl, revealing the nude forms of two tiny people, each only about two inches tall, curled up in her palm. As the pressing walls of flesh receded, they took more natural positions, each facing the giants staring back at them. “I... I think I made them... tiny.” Malcolm wasn't sure what to make of the situation for a moment. It certainly looked as though his friend was holding two miniature people, but the concept wouldn't stick in his mind. “I wanted to ruin them and I think I have.”

“Who are they?” Was all Malcolm could think to ask for now.

“W-well, the woman there,” Renée gestured, the giant finger causing both tiny people to recoil away from it slightly. “See, I went to Starbucks, right? And the woman was in line behind a person at the counter, but there was a big gap between the two. So, I slipped in between them, and when this one here noticed, she starts bitching me out. No big deal, she's just jealous she's too stupid to watch her spot, right?” Malcolm nodded. He knew Renée could be a bit immature at times, and it was best to just let it go. “Then she fucking... I mean, yeah, I called her a cunt, but then she fucking slapped me. Hard.”

“And... and so then you, uh...” He gestured to the two in her hand.

“Not right away. I just went and sat down without ordering anything. And this... this smug bitch goes ahead and gets whatever she does, and sits down with who I can only assume is her husband. And I just stared at them, and then...” She swallowed. “When they were going to leave, she turned and she winks at me. And I felt... just like, pissed. I can't put it into words, the rage I felt. It came over me like a wave, and a second later, the two of them were just gone. At first, I thought maybe I'd blacked out or something, but it didn't take long to figure out I hadn't. I went and followed them out, and there they were on the sidewalk just outside, like this.”

“Naked?” He asked.

Renée snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I don't know what the fuck I did to their clothes. They were just gone.” She let out a breath, looking at them. “Anyway, here we are. I just kinda chucked them in the glove compartment, came here, got them, and then... yeah.” She looked up to him. “I don't... I mean, what do I do?”

“Well... god, I don't know.” He said, shaking his head. Malcolm leaned forward and plucked up the little woman from Renée's hand. He could feel his heart racing. It was more than seeing a nude, attractive, middle-aged woman. He liked seeing her in his friend's palm. And he loved feeling her squirm in his fingers. He wrapped his fist around her.

“H-hey now!” A voice came from Renée's palm. Both giants turned to look at the little man, who was getting onto his feet. “You put her down! Right now!”

“Sorry,” Malcolm said, reaching over to place her in Renée's palm, but she stopped him.

“No. Who is he to tell you what to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...” Renée looked at the small man, her mind reeling with possibilities. “I mean, look at how small he is. How weak he is.” The word sent a tingle down both of their spines. Malcolm hadn't considered it, but he was seeing where she was going with it. He realized, though, that he enjoyed hearing Renée talk about it.

“What are you suggesting?” He asked, goading her to continue.

Renée was enjoying her little speech almost as much as Malcolm was. “I'm suggesting this little fucker should be apologizing and asking us not to hurt him, instead of making demands.” The two giants looked at the tiny man expectantly. He stared back, incredulous.

“You think I'll prostrate myself before you just because you're bigger than me?” He said with false bravado. He hoped that by acting the part, they would come to see him as an equal, despite his stature.

“What's your name?” Malcolm asked.

“James. James Fuller. What's yours?”

“Do you have children, James?” Malcolm ignored the tiny man's question.

“Well... yes, I do.”

“Tell me about them.”

“I don't really see that that's rel-” He was cut off by a small scream coming from Malcolm's fist. He had clenched it, and the tiny woman responded just how he'd wanted her to. James' eyes went wide. “You can't do that!” He screamed. “Put her down immediately!”

“Better idea, shrimp:” Malcolm was falling for his roommate more and more with each new thing she said. “You answer his question, and I don't throw you in a garbage can and leave you to rot.”

“You c-” He stopped himself. James was going to say 'You couldn't,” but he was starting to accept just how easily she could. He looked down at the ground. “I... we have a daughter and a son. Twins. They're only nine, please.” He raised his head at the last line, looking imploringly into Malcolm's eyes. The giants looked at each other, but neither said anything for several moments. Eventually, Renée spoke.

“We should, uh,”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I mean, they have kids.”

“We're not monsters.”

“It's the right thing to do.”

“As right as this situation gets, anyway.” Malcolm pulled out his cell phone.

“Who're you calling?”

“I... don't know. 911, I guess?” He sounded unsure.

“Yeah, I guess those would be the folks to call.”

Both of them looked at the cell phone silently, neither one of them moving. Slowly, Malcolm dialed in the numbers, then began to move his thumb towards the “Call” button. Renée quickly shot her free hand out, grabbing his wrist.

“Wait.” She said, urgency in her voice. She felt a gnawing in her chest, and looked from the man at her side to the one in her hand, and back again. “Is it – or, I mean, am I a terrible person if...” Her voice trailed off for only a second, but Malcolm picked it up.

“I don't give a shit about their rugrats.” Malcolm said through a deep exhalation. Renée's eyes went wide.

“Oh my God, neither do I!” Her face lit up, and she let out a small giggle. “I was just afraid you'd think less of me. Is that awful?”

“Probably. But fuck it, it's not like we're hurting their kids.”

“Right. They'll be fine.”

James looked between the two, horror apparent on his face. “What... what are you saying!? You're going to let us go, right? You'll let us see our children, right?”

Renée shook her head softly, smiling. “No,” She said, cooing down to him. “That part of your world is gone now.” She reached out a finger and petted him along his back. He tried to resist, but she gently overpowered him. “It's for the best that you accept that.”

Malcolm turned his attention to the woman in his hand. He unfolded his fingers, letting her roll out onto them, then used his thumb to pin her in place. “How old are you two, anyway? I mean, nine-year-olds?”

“I'm forty-two, she's forty.” James spoke for her. Renée barked out a laugh.

“Forty?” She said in a mocking tone. Malcolm playfully chided her.

“Come on now, it's not nice to make fun of someone because of their age. We can't all be children like you.”

“I am not a child!”

“You're a teen.”

“I'm nineteen.” She said forcefully.

“Not old enough to drink yet.” He playfully tapped her on the nose with a finger. She frowned and batted his hand away, causing him to laugh.

“Old enough that guys don't treat me like a leper when they learn how old I am.”

“Hey, I never turned you away, and I've known you for, what, three years?”

Renée looked him up and down. “Yeah, 'cause you're a lech.”

“Excuse me!” There came a small voice from Renée's hand. The two were interrupted for a moment, and turned to face James. He stared, looking at each of them incredulously, but when he saw the emotion in their eyes, his stomach dropped. “Or... I only meant to say, you could put me down. If you wanted to.”

“Oh no, little guy,” Renée said, annoyance plain in her voice. “You wanted our attention? You got it. What can we do for you, O Ye of Diminutive Stature?”

James put his hands up defensively, taking a step backwards. “N-now, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry, I spoke out of turn.” His wife thought to speak out to defend him, but then realized that as long as she didn't, they were much less likely to turn their attention to her. Instead, she cowered in Malcolm's palm, watching with mute horror while the scene unfolded.

“You're right, you did.” Malcolm said. “I think you're starting to learn where your position is in relation to us, but I think that outbursts like that are caused by lingering confusion. So, why don't we start working on getting rid of that now? From now on, you'll address us as Sir and Ma'am.”

“'Ma'am'?” Renée asked.

“What's wrong with 'ma'am'?”

“Nothing, it's just... old-sounding.” She smirked, and gestured to James' wife. “I'd call her 'ma'am'.”

“Well, what would you prefer he called you?”

She stared at him, biting her lip in contemplation. “Hmm. I don't know. Mistress?”

“Well, it's... definitely kinky.”

“Yeah, too kinky.” Renée agreed. “Man, you guys get all the good titles. What do we get? Queen? Goddess? All so... melodramatic, aren't they?”

“You could go with lady. You know, like 'My lady,' or whatever.”

Renée twisted her mouth to the side, thinking about it. She turned to James. “Try it out.”

“Y-yes, my Lady.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she started beaming. Malcolm smiled, too, his gaze lingering on her lips.

“I like it!” She said joyously. “But, now you have to be his Lord. Sir's too informal at this point. We've upped the respect-ante.”

“Very well!” Malcolm said, affecting a dramatic tone. “From here on out, we shall be your Lord and Lady. Kneel, Sir James of Diminutive Stature.” Renée giggled, and Malcolm smiled at the sound. James did as he was told, kneeling before the massive people, one of whom held his life in her hand.

“God, this is so cool.” Renée said. “Let's make him do other things. Ooh, let's get her in on it, too!” Malcolm leaned forward and set the woman down on the nearby coffee table, and Renée deposited James beside her. The two pulled the table closer to the couch, and loomed over the tiny couple like a pair of gods.

“So, what did you have in mind, as far as commands go?”

“I don't know... something degrading.”

“Well, why not a little tit-for-tat?” Malcolm suggested. Renée paused, unsure what that meant, and he continued. “You, what's your name?” He addressed James' wife.

“Alice.” She said meekly.

“Alice, get on your knees and face your husband.” She hesitated, and Malcolm could tell she was trying to carefully put together a sentence.

“If... I mean, I will, L-Lord, b-”

“My Lord.” He corrected.

“R-right, of course, my Lord, I will do it, but... I mean, if I do... m-may we please see our children?” Her pain was evident, both in her voice and her expression.

“Oh, honey,” He said gently, reaching out and patting her on the head with a fingertip. “No.”

“N-no?” She repeated.

“Nope. Sorry. You're not going to see them again. Forget about them.”

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her husband came up from behind her, holding her shoulders comfortingly. He whispered something into her ear. “So, are you ready to begin?” Malcolm asked. “Because if not, I'm sure I can think of some way to punish you two for disobedience.” Alice sank to her knees and faced her husband. Tears were streaming down her face. “Good. Now, since you were a real cunt and slapped my friend here, I think it's only fair that you get smacked yourself. James, go ahead and do the honors.”

“What? No! I won't!” Malcolm just nodded solemnly.

“I thought you might object. But, I have something to show you.” He fished around in his pocket for a moment and retrieved a penny. He set it down on its edge on the smooth wooden table. “Now, either you smack your wife,” He cocked his index finger on the pad of his thumb, aimed, and gave the penny a flick. Alice startled from the sound of the blow. The penny sailed across the room, clacking noisily against the far wall. “Or I will.”

Renée felt her pulse quicken. She looked her roommate up and down, imagining for just a moment that he sat naked beside her. She half-hoped that James would refuse, and that Malcolm would make Alice's head fly across the room the way the penny had. She wanted to see that level of powerful brutality from him, and she had no idea why. “Go on, you little shit.” She said venomously. “Disobey your Lord.”

He looked between them, then back down to his wife, who wept silently before him. He swallowed. “I'm so sorry Alice.” He said in a whisper. “Please forgive me.”

“I do.” Alice responded. James tried to steel himself for what was about to happen. He couldn't bring himself to swing his arm back, so he just delivered a light, short blow across her face, eliciting a yelp of pain from his wife. “I'm sorry!” He said quickly.

“Not good enough. I want you to hit her so hard you throw her to the ground.” James looked up to Malcolm in desperation. “And she'd better not take a dive, either. If you take a dive, little Alice, I'll know. And I'll be very upset with you.”

“I-I can't, my Lord!”

“You can, and you w-”

“Punish him.” Malcolm turned to Renée, and when he locked eyes with her, he immediately recognized the sadistic lust in them. “Hurt him for speaking out against you.”

He smiled. It was even dripping from her words. He turned back to James, ready to put on a show. “Turn around, James.” He ordered. The small man was hesitant, but did as he was told. Malcolm picked him up and bent him across his hand, so that James' ass was facing him. He turned so that James was facing Renée, and she looked hungrily into his tiny eyes. Malcolm lifted his other hand, and without warning delivered a swift blow to the man's ass with a finger. James howled in pain, instantly starting to squirm and struggle in Malcolm's iron grip. Renée drew in a quick, sharp breath, letting it out slowly.

“Hit him again.” She said after a moment.

“Beg me for it.” Her eyes flicked up to his, and the two watched each other. Both of them were sweltering with excitement. A small smile tugged at the corners of Renée's lips.

“Please hit him again.” She breathed. James felt another blow ring out through his body, starting in his ass. He hollered and clawed at Malcolm's fingers.

“Should I do it again, or has the little man learned his lesson?”

Renée shook her head, pretending to study James' face. “He hasn't learned it yet. He won't learn it until you make him cry.”

“N-no, please! My Lord, my Lady, please, I've learned my lesson!” James said quickly. “You don't have to hit me anymore, I get it!”

“Eager to get back to hitting your wife, you monster?” Malcolm admonished. He delivered another two blows in quick succession, each causing agony to James. James felt powerless. He saw what was happening. He knew he was being tortured for the amour of two young adults. Initially he'd hoped their promises of never letting him see his children again were just taunts, but now he feared they meant what they said. He felt an overwhelming sense of loss, as though parts of his existence were being ripped from him; from his body, from his mind, from his soul. Another blow connected, and he started to weep openly in Malcolm's hand. Renée placed her hand on her chest, clutching her shirt tightly as she watched his tears, brought on by her roommate's finger. Malcolm gently placed James down on the table beside Alice, who immediately crawled to him, holding him close.

“Malcolm, you're... um, you are very good at this.” Renée said softly. She slid closer to him on the couch, and he returned the gesture, sitting close enough that their thighs touched. He slowly reached over and cupped the inside of her thigh with his right hand, sliding it gently back and forth. Renée's eyes fluttered closed, and she let out a small moan.

On the table, the tiny couple glanced up, noticing their captors were distracted with each other. “Come on,” James said urgently. “We have to go. We have to run now. They-” His voice caught in his throat. “They probably won't give us another chance.” Alice nodded, and the two started crawling away.

“Oh my God,” Renée said in a whisper. She rolled over such that she was straddling Malcolm, pressing her body against his. He smiled, and glanced past her, noticing the tiny couple making their getaway.

“Got some escapees there.” He said, gesturing with his head towards them. With a low animal growl Renée turned around, snatching the two up. She shoved James into her right bra cup almost immediately, then turned on Alice, who was struggling furiously.

“Let me go, you giant psychotic bitch!” She shrieked. Alice kicked and thrashed with every limb on her body. She bucked and writhed and bit and clawed and everything else she could think of, livid with this barely-legal slut. Even when Renée's fingers curled around her so tight she couldn't move anything but her head, she thrashed it around as hard as she could, still spewing profanity.

“Ma'am – ma'am.” Renée said as she held the tiny woman between the two giants' looming faces. Apart from those two words, neither said anything, just watching Alice thrash herself out, ignoring Renée.

“Fucking whore bitch put me down! I swear to god I will find you and cut your heart out if you ever touch me or my husband again! You fucking slut! How dare you try to take me away from my children!? I will make sure neither of you ever have kids, you can goddamn count on that! I will cut out everything that gives you gender you low-life motherfuck pieces of shit goddamnit!” She went on for another minute, impressing both of her captors with her tenacity. Eventually, they could hear her voice crack as she'd strained it too hard for too long. Her threats lowered in volume, until she was just coughing weakly in Renée's fist. For all her swearing, she was no better off.

“Ma'am,” Renée began again. “You need to understand how fucking small you are. And how... just how little either of us cares about your well-being.” She smiled, and felt like a predator bearing its teeth in front of prey. “I can do whatever I want to you, and you will never be able to do anything back. Ever. Your day of retribution will never come. You can thrash and scream all you want, but you will never get even with us ever again. Do you get that?”

Alice tried to scream something, but it caught in her throat, sending her into another coughing fit. Renée just shook her head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” She said playfully. “I guess not.” She looked into Malcolm's eyes. “I wanna put on a demonstration, but... I have to ask you to do something you may not like.”

“What is it?”

“Would you mind... killing him?”

“James?”

“Yeah.”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Renée smiled happily. She placed Alice back down on the table, and in a deft motion pulled her shirt off. Another second later and she had unclasped her bra, taking it off carefully to reveal her ample breasts. She looked down, and smiled as she saw James on his back in the middle of her cup. “Go ahead and take him.” She said, offering the tiny man to Malcolm, who happily obliged. She snatched Alice up once more, and placed her on the back of the couch, with full view of both giants. “Now I want you to watch, Alice, while my new boyfriend here takes your husband and smears him into my breast.”

“No!” She shrieked, overcoming her throat. “Please, oh God please I'll do anything!” She fell to her knees. “Please, please hurt me! Oh my God, please don't do this! Please! Please leave him alone!” Her begging was rapid-paced, one right after the other.

“Boyfriend?” Malcolm asked, ignoring the woman's desperate pleas. “Is that official?”

“It will be.” Renée said, looking coyly down at the tiny man laying in Malcolm's open palm. He, too, was on his knees, begging for his life.

“So... you want me to smear him into you, huh?” Malcolm asked with a smile.

“Yep. Make my whole tit bloody.”

He shrugged. “You got it.” Cupping his palm, he raised his hand up to Renée's left breast. She could feel the feather-like blows of James as the palm neared her breast, and a second later began running along it. Malcolm wasn't applying enough pressure to crush James, just enough to roll him around in the tight space. He instantly started screaming as he was pressed tightly and rolled around. Malcolm rolled him in small circles around Renée's breast, getting closer to her nipple with every pass. She breathed in pleasure, letting out small gasps intermittently, and grinding her crotch against his.

“Let him go! Please, let him go! Don't kill my husband!” Alice's cries only fueled their lust. James was hollering in pain. During one circle, his legs had been pressed against each other when Malcolm's hand pushed at an odd angle, and snapped his shins against each other. His wrist had been snapped backwards, and he was sure more than a few fingers were broken. He cried and screamed in agony, but there was no stopping either of them now.

Malcolm was nearing Renée's nipple with James. He teased it out for as long as he could, delighting in the simultaneous pleasure and suffering he was causing with one hand. Then, with a brutally slow squeeze, he began to crush the tiny man against her nipple. She let out a low moan that easily drowned out his high-pitched shrieks. James could feel his ribs snapping against her hard nipple. Blood flooded his throat, turning his wails into pathetic gurgles, coughing up blood that was hard to see against her deep red areola. Just before James believed he would be crushed to death, Malcolm eased up, and began rolling the body along her breast again, rougher this time. He kneaded with his palm and fingers, mashing up James' broken body into her soft flesh. He rolled it around like putty, letting his warm blood ooze between his fingers. He rubbed the viscera against Renée, who watched with utter delight.

Alice was curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. She stared into space, whimpering and shivering slightly. She didn't watch as her husband was painted across the young woman's breast. She couldn't hear their grunts and moans. All she could hear were James' keening death cries, playing over and over again in her ears, as clear as day.

Malcolm finished his work. Almost all of Renée's breast was stained a dark red. She reached out to pick Alice up, but he stopped her. “Wait,” He said, smiling mischievously. “This will be more fun.” He reached over with his blood-covered hand, and wrapped his thick fingers around her tiny body. Alice noticed the sticky sensation right away, and slowly realized what it was.

She screamed.

She howled desperately, wriggling uselessly in Malcolm's fist. Her cries were those of a woman breaking, face-to-face with the most horrible experience of her entire life. Renée and Malcolm could feel the anguish radiating out of her voice. Malcolm wondered if they'd gone too far, but it occurred to him that their lives had been meaningless to him before he knew who they were. He saw no reason why that would change now. Renée, on the other hand, didn't even pause for a moment. “Betcha wish you hadn't slapped me now, huh cunt?” She derided the tiny woman. Alice looked up at her aghast. There wasn't a hint of sorrow in Renée's eyes. Alice wasn't even sure if the woman thought she'd done anything wrong.

“Yes,” She said, her voice low and hoarse. “Yes, yes, yes. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry I slapped you. If I could go back and take it all back I would, I swear it. Please believe me. Please have mercy on me.”

They just watched her for a while, Renée soaking in the feeling of being begged to, and Malcolm soaking in Renée's gorgeous, gory body. “Would you like me to do the other breast?” He asked after a moment's silence. Without taking her eyes off the tiny woman, Renée shook her head.

“No. She needs a more painful death.” Alice started to protest, but Renée spoke over her. “And if she's truly repentant for what she did, she'll understand that this is the only way to cleanse her sin.”

Malcolm smirked. “'Cleanse her sin'? Now who's being melodramatic?” Renée's eyes snapped up to his, and they stared at each other for a moment. Then, she laughed and hit his chest.

“Come on!” She whined. “I'm trying to do a thing here!”

He raised his free hand. “Hey, don't let me stop you. Do your thing. But – are you sure she's expendable? I mean, are you sure you can do it again?”

She looked troubled for a moment, then her focus shifted to something out the window behind him. He turned to look, and saw a mailman walking down the sidewalk. Renée concentrated. She tried to well up hate from within herself, and found it was easier to do than she'd suspected. Now that she knew what she was doing, she found she could control it better, that there were options available to her. She concentrated, and focused on the person out the window. A second later, they seemed to vanish.

“Yep. I can do it again.” She smiled.

“Should we go get him?”

“Nah. I made him really little. Nobody's going to notice him and then he'll die.” She felt a sense of power wash over her. “All because of me.”

“Wow... I can't believe I'm about to score with a real goddess.” Malcolm said, awe in his voice. She eyed him coyly.

“Who said you're getting some? Just because my tits are out doesn't mean you're getting lucky.” She stood up, taking a few paces away from him. “A girl still likes to be wooed.”

Malcolm rose after her. He took her wrist and led her to the bathroom. “C'mere, I'll show you wooing.” He said roughly. She giggled girlishly and followed after him, a spring in her step. When they got there, he got out a packet of dental floss and pulled off a small strand. Delicately, he tied it around Alice's throat, then stood her on his palm, pinching the other end between his forefinger and thumb. She looked between the two faces smiling down at her.

“No... no, please...” She said, whimpering and falling to her knees. “Please don't do this... I – I swear, I'll serve you. I'll do whatever you want, please.”

“Say the word.” Malcolm said to Renée. He knew she'd enjoy having the final say on the woman's life.

Renée watched Alice whimper softly, begging occasionally. She brought her finger up to her mouth and let a small amount of saliva roll from between her lips and onto the end of her forefinger. Then she lowered it in front of Alice's face. “Kiss my spit, if you're so sorry.” She said. Alice stared at it forlornly.

“W-will you... will you let me live if I do?”

“I'll kill you if you don't.” She said matter-of-factly.

Alice nodded slowly. She leaned forward, closing her eyes tight, and placed a delicate peck on her finger, through the layer of saliva. When she pulled away, some of it stuck to her face. Renée laughed.

“Stupid little woman. Why would that save you?” She shook her head, wiping her finger on her pants. “Go ahead, hang'er.” Malcolm's hand abruptly turned ninety degrees, dropping the poor woman. Her weight wasn't enough to snap her neck as the cord pulled taut, so she just hung there instead, kicking and squirming futilely at the end of the rope. She issued weak gurgles, the relatively thick cord slowly crushing her throat. Renée clapped, bouncing softly as she watched Alice twist like a worm on the end of a hook. Just then, a sudden urge overwhelmed her and she grabbed the tiny woman, lifting her up and out of the strangling embrace of the floss.

“No, wait,” She said quickly. “This isn't right. Not like this.” She looked around the bathroom like she was confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I... don't know.” She said sheepishly. “I just feel like that isn't how she should go. Ooh! I know. Here!” She pulled the stopper on the sink, and started filling it with cold water. “Take the floss off and just hold her under there.” He did as she asked, holding the squirming woman restrained in his fist. He waited until the sink was full, then plunged his hand in, submerging the poor woman. Renée smiled wickedly, leaning down on the counter to better watch Alice's struggles grow weaker. As Alice was taking her first gulps of water, succumbing to her burning lungs, Renée lifted Malcolm's arm out of the water. Startled, he let Alice drop, and she hit the porcelain counter with a wet smack. She immediately began coughing and spitting up water.

“What the hell, Renée?” Malcolm asked, somewhat annoyed. She shook her head.

“I'm sorry! I don't know, it just doesn't feel right.” She looked down at the tiny woman. “Maybe it has to be me. Maybe I have to do it.” She snatched Alice up, holding her with the same level of constriction that Malcolm had. She got herself back into the mood. “All right, bitch. Time to die.” 'Time to die'? She thought to herself immediately. Ugh.

Alice tried to prepare this time by taking a deep breath, but she hadn't finished coughing out all the water from last time. She gazed up at the two faces watching her drown, and hoped beyond hope that they would never find her children, and that her children would never learn what had happ-

“Damnit!” Renée said, pulling the tiny woman up and out of the water, dropping her on the counter again. “That's not it.” She sulked. Her eyes scanned the room. The toilet. The shower. The window. No, no, no. None of those deaths were.... right. She walked out of the room, and after a second, Malcolm followed, tiny woman in his hand.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asked as he followed her into her room. “Are you having... regrets, or something?”

Renée barked out a laugh. “Yeah.” She said, turning around. She glanced briefly down at her left breast. “This is where I'm drawing the line, Malcolm, at letting some hag hang.”

He smiled apologetically. “All right. Then what is it? You want me to just take her out quick?”

“I don't know...” She said, sighing. “I'm just... somehow I fell out of the mood, I guess?”

Malcolm was quiet for a moment. “Out of the... fucking mood?” He asked hopefully, looking her up and down. She grinned.

“Oh don't worry, I still have that in me. Or, I suppose, I don't have that in me – and that's the problem.”

Malcolm nodded. He held Alice up, caged in his fingers. “So, should I just grape her?”

“'Grape' her?”

“You know.” He flexed his fingers, drawing a cry from Alice. “Pop. Like a grape.” She stared at him quizzically. “Didn't you ever pop grapes as a kid?”

“No, I never popped grapes as a kid. Who does that?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“I don't know. Something to do?”

“Weird.”

“Please!” Alice shouted. “Please let me live!” An angry expression crossed over Renée's face almost immediately. She marched forward and grabbed the tiny woman from Malcolm's fingers, whispering a quick 'Oh my God,' as she did so. She dropped Alice to the ground at her feet, then lifted her foot high up over the woman.

“You! Are! Not! Going! To! Fucking! Live!” She shouted, slamming her foot down on either side of Alice to punctuate her words. The tiny woman was mad with fear, curled up as tight as she could be, screaming hysterically into her legs as she clutched her head. “Quit! Fucking! Asking!” Renée panted softly, staring at the blubbering mess of a woman at her feet, her right sole only an inch away from Alice's body. Malcolm took a step forward, his bare foot flying past Alice, coming to rest with her just under the highest point of his arch. It pressed her softly into the ground, pinning her there without causing significant damage.

“I have an idea.” He said into Renée's ear, pressing his body against hers. Her breath drew short.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Why don't we give the little bitch exactly what she wants? Let's immortalize her.”

“How... how do you mean?”

“Let's make her a part of our first fuck.” Renée looked down, and could see Alice's feet sticking out from beneath Malcolm's foot.

“What, you mean...”

“Put her inside you just before I join her.” Renée liked the idea. She liked it a lot. She knelt down and gently scooped Alice up into her hand.

“Does that sound fun to you, honey? You get one last fuck before you go.” She said cheerfully. Alice shook her head weakly, causing Renée to mock-pout. “Aww. Well that's too bad, because you stopped having rights the moment you stood up to me. Maybe next time you'll respect your youngers.” She smirked. “Or, you know. You would, if we were going to let you live.” With that, she practically skipped into her bedroom, Malcolm close on her heels, already undressing himself. She laughed lustfully, throwing Alice onto the bed and matching Malcolm's level of attire. He shoved her onto the bed, and she narrowly avoided crushing Alice under her ass.

“Be careful of the little cunt!” Renée said, laughing.

“I'm much more interested in the real one.” He said, mounting her. He scooped Alice up in his hand, braced her against his thumb, then started sliding her inside his girlfriend. She gasped, writhing underneath him.

“Oh my God...” She whispered. “Oh, yessss... squirm for me...” Manipulating himself for just a moment, he slid into Renée, and her eyes opened wide.

“You like that?”

“Mmmmmm,” Was all Renée could say. The feeling of being filled up on top of having a tiny woman squirming inside her was too much. She started to work herself against Malcolm's shaft, biting her lip in pleasure.

Alice's hell was a crushing, smothering one. She could barely draw breath from deep within Renée, and all around her hurt. She couldn't tell which way was out, although she did feel that she was occasionally pressed deeper by what she could only imagine was Malcolm's cock. She tried to turn, to spin around and claw her way out, somehow survive crossing the bed and somehow get out of this house and somehow get to her family. She wanted that desperately, more than anything in the world. But it was too much for her to even orient herself correctly. The walls of Renée's vagina were too slick, and she couldn't find purchase. Beyond that, every time Malcolm drove deeper, he pushed Alice along with him, slowly taking up the space she had available to her.

Renée and Malcolm were in heaven. Each had wanted the other for longer than they would ever admit to each other, and the fact that they were so readily accepting of the other's sadism was icing on the cake. They both thoroughly enjoyed the desperate fighting of Alice, a true squirmer 'til the end.

After a while, Malcolm drove deep, and felt himself press Alice against Renée's cervix. He looked into Renée's eyes, and she nodded, her eyes wild with excitement. He smiled, nuzzling softly against her, then pressed all of himself into her. Alice was pinned against the cervix, and Malcolm wasted no time teasing her. Her body snapped and broke, and Renée dug her nails into Malcolm's back, letting out a loud moan of ecstasy. They held each other tight for as long as they could, each experiencing an intense orgasm over the death of the little woman.

Eventually they relaxed, and Malcolm pulled himself out of Renée. He mused at the red-white mixture that covered his dick and was slowly oozing out of his lover. Parts of Alice were still recognizable, her entire body not having been completely pulverized. They smiled to themselves, and each other, as they went to go get cleaned off together.