The goddess Nike was walking down the sidewalk fuming over the current turn of events. The god of war Ares had just defeated her, the goddess of victory, in a wrestling match. Nike was satisfied placing her loss because Ares was a ‘major’ god, but Ares had to rub it in even further. The sexist pig claimed that it was because he was a man and that men were superior in every way to women. This caused Nike to storm out of Mount Olympus and land in some random city in the US.

“I’ll show that pig what women can do!” grumbled Nike from clinched teeth.

Taking a quick left, the goddess walked through the closed doors of an apartment complex where the spirit of competition was strongest. The mortals that Nike passed could not see her, unless she wanted them too, but the feeling of adrenaline added a little kick to their step. Walking through a wall to her right Nike found herself looking down upon a couple setting up a game of chess. The aura of ferociousness was coming from the man, no doubt Ares’ work, but he did not stand a chance with the goddess of victory present.

“Alright the rules are simple,” said Mark as he finished setting up the board, “we have only five minutes each to play a game of chess, plus an additional three seconds per move. If you run out of time then you lose.”

“I know how to play chess, I’ve been practicing all week to kick your ass!” said Stacy as she looked down upon the board not knowing that a goddess was sitting right beside her.

“Just remember our deal, the loser has to do whatever the winner says.” Mark calmly grabbed ahold of his pawn and moved it forward to start the game.

A few moves in and Nike could tell that the girl had no chance of winning this game normally. A god or goddess wasn’t allowed to directly interfere with any sort of competition, but this didn’t stop them by changing some circumstances. Since this was a time limited game, Nike decided that a distraction was in order.

Mark laughed as Stacy moved her rook out of the way of his bishop, but she only fell into his trap. Grabbing ahold of his knight, Mark began to move it forward until his hand ran into a huge soft mass before stopping. Mark’s eyes nearly shot out of their sockets as he looked up at Stacy’s top.

“Can you stop looking at my boobs for one second and get serious?” asked Stacy as she slapped Mark’s hand away. She took a second to rearrange the t shirt that was hopelessly stretched across her chess. The phrase ‘Got Milk’ was printed in big bold letter on the front. Like all men, and some women, Mark just couldn’t take his eyes off of her boobs. Stacy knew that you didn’t see a girl as small as her with J cup knockers every day, but Mark should be used to it by now.

Mark was brought back to reality as his timer beeped signaling that thirty seconds had just passed. If he wanted to win then he would just have to try and ignore the two behemoth’s lying underneath of his girlfriend’s shirt.

Nike sat back pleased with herself as the two mortals continued playing. Stacy was originally a B cup at best, but with a little reality bending the short blonde would be turning a lot of heads from now on. Unfortunately Nike’s ‘little’ distraction didn’t seem to be enough as Mark soon retook control of the game again.

“Just so you know, I’m only eight moves away from winning this game.” Mark leaned forward with the smuggest of looks on his face as he watched Stacy decide on what move she was going to do next. He was already thinking of what he was going to have her do with that insanely hot body of hers once the game was finished. Stacy moved her remaining knight forward nervously to protect her king.

Mark had to reach across the table to grab ahold of his queen as he moved it over to take the night. Mark just couldn’t get his mind off of his girlfriend’s rack. To a normal guy they were big, but to his three foot frame they were huge. He enjoyed using them as a pillow when they would watch a movie together. Stacy took the exact move that Mark had predicted as she placed her queen to put his king in check.

The stacks of books underneath him were of no use as Mark stood up to grab ahold of his bishop. The glass piece nearly fell out of his hand as he tried to get used to the weight. Hoping up on the table, Mark quickly captured Stacy’s queen. Stacy leaned forward to think of her next move allowing Mark a quick glance inside of her shirt. Just the small peek reminded him of how Stacy teased him that she had lost ‘lil Mark’ in between her boobs the first time she had given him a titfuck. What did she expect when her boobs were nearly bigger than his eighteen inch frame.

Stacy moved her pawn forward to block Mark’s queen from a frontal assault. Mark just responded by walking to the center of the board, careful not to knock over any of the waist high pieces. Making sure he had a good grip, Mark slowly carried the heavy glass figure across the board to cut of Stacy’s escape route. Stacy was starting to feel the heat as she stared down at her nine inch boyfriend. She wanted nothing more than to wipe off that smug look plastered across his face. Normally she would just stuff him in her cleavage leaving his head exposed when he annoyed her, but she made a deal with him.

Mark watched Stacey’s giant fingers move her last bishop right into his trap. It took a second, but Mark was able to get to his knight. The piece was just as tall as he was and weight a little bit heavier so carrying it was out of the question. Giving it a good push, Mark took out Stacy’s bishop. The trip had taken a little out of him, but nothing that he couldn’t handle. Luckily Stacy didn’t waste time in removing the piece from the board giving Mark a chance to rest. It was a wonder that a four and a half inch guy like him could land such a busty babe like Stacy. Just one of her boobs weighed more than ten of him.

The black king retreated back one more space bringing Mark’s victory just one step closer. Stacy watch as her tiny boyfriend began to struggle to move his rook towards her side of the board. It was comical to see him moving a chess piece that was twice his height. Her huge chest soon blocked him from view. Despite being a little over two inches tall, Mark did have a lot of stamina when it counts. The thought of his little feet exploring her body was already exciting her. Stacy could feel her nipple stiffen as she moved her king over one place.

Mark looked up at the towering behemoth of a chess piece in front of him. It was a little over four times his height and weight god knows how much more. Placing both hands against the cool glass, Mark began to push with all of his strength. Every muscle in his body screamed at him, but ever so slowly he was able to push the piece forward one space. He heard a loud applause above him as Stacy cheered on the one inch tall guy in front of her. Stacy knew her defeat was close at hand, but Mark really did play a great game. Moving her King forward, Stacy looked down to see Mark’s next move.

Mark on the other hand was looking up at his giant queen, trying to figure out a way for his tiny half inch frame to move the giant piece. Stacy was staring down at him with a smile on her face as she saw Mark’s dilemma, but she didn’t offer to help him just yet. Mark needed this game to be over with so that he could claim his reward. Putting his back against the his queen, Mark tried to push the queen forward to no avail. To him the piece seemed to have weighed a couple ton. Mark was about to collapse from exhaustion until a fingertip that was as big as he was effortlessly pushed the towering piece forward.

“Check” panted Mark. Sweat was sliding down his face as Stacy pushed her King back to the every last spot available on the board.

“I’m not helping you with this one little guy.” said Stacy as she leaned back in her chair. The little guy looked up at her in disbelief as he noticed the time left on his clock. Mark still had two minutes left to move his piece, but that was impossible for him to do now. Stacy had gotten together with Mark because of his personality and not his physical qualities. Of course there are set backs to dating a guy that could never hope to reach the quarter inch mark on a ruler, but the advantages were numerous as well. It was still a puzzle to Stacy that Mark was able to get this far in the game given his tiny size.

She could have sworn that he had made the majority of his moves, but that was impossible. The little guy was just begging her to help him move his piece but Stacy wasn’t going to listen. She wanted to win the game after all. If Mark was lucky, Stacy wouldn’t tucker him out too quickly. She had all night to play with him.

Nike slowly got up from the table with a smile on her face. The little guy on the table was still trying valiantly to win the game, but it was hopeless for him. The time was soon going to run out and he would be at the mercy of his now titanic girlfriend. Nike left the apartment in search for more competitions between men and women. Hopefully the next one would be just as fun to watch as this one.

Arm Wrestling - Contributed by ThatOneDrumGuy

Nike walked out of the apartment and stopped for a moment outside of the front door.  She looked left and right slowly and methodically taking in the sheer amount of pure undying competitive spirit inside of the apartment complex.

Feeling a strong pull from down the hall to her right.  Turning her body, Nike proceeded down the hall.

A smile formed across the corners Nike’s lips as she proceeded passed the multitude of closed apartment doors, the spirit of competition undoubtedly strong throughout the premises, “Ares is going to get what’s coming to him,” Nike thought, “the misogynistic prick!”

Nike proceeded through a gray steel door into what appeared to be a locker room of sorts at the end of the hall.  She watched as a fairly short, muscular woman, standing about 5’2”, in a vibrant green two-piece bikini-swimsuit walked passed her, Nike could feel an intense spirit of competition radiating from her petite body.  The woman was soaking wet, her Auburn just longer-than shoulder-length hair hanging down in her face.  Nike assumed she was near the pool.  She turned the combination lock of a locker at the far end of the locker room, opened up the green locker, and pulled out a white striped beach towel.

Just then, another taller woman, wearing a black bikini top with a white bottom, with wet shoulder-length golden-blonde hair walked into the locker room and up to the first woman.  The second woman opened a locker next to the first and pulled out a sky-blue towel.  Nike watched as they exchanged words while drying themselves.

“Bonnie,” the taller woman started as she sat down on a wooden bench situated in the center of the locker hall, “are you sure you want to arm-wrestle Mitchell?”

“I know it’s a big challenge,” Bonnie said as she wrapped the towel around her shoulders and flexed her 14” biceps, “but I know I can do it Sherri.”

“I know your arms are big and all,” Sherri paused, “but Mitchell is huge.  There’s a reason he put $50 on the table for this, because, no offense, he knows he will win.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Bonnie sarcastically shot back.  Nike could feel that she was getting fired up, there was no question in her mind that she would get involved in this bout.

“You know I don’t like to sugarcoat the truth,” Sherri said back.

“Okay, I get it,” Bonnie said, “you’re cheering for Mitchell.  I’ll see you out there!”

Bonnie stuffed her towel back into the locker and slammed it shut.  Nike followed Bonnie unseen as she stormed out of the locker room and found herself outside next to the poolside.  A tall, very muscular man was standing next to a round, mesh table with an umbrella hole in the center.  He had a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“Did you bring my money,” Mitchell shouted across the pool yard to Bonnie.

“You act as if you’ll win it,” Bonnie shot back confidently.

Mitchell then flexed his arms, revealing the largest biceps Nike had seen from a mortal man in a very long time, 24” to be exact.  A smile reformed on Nike’s face as she let out a chuckle knowing she was about to have a field day.

A crowd began to form around the table as Bonnie made her way across the weathered, painted cement poolside to the table where Mitchell was standing.  She was feeling extremely confident.  Mitchell may have a whole 15” of height advantage over her standing at 6’5” but she was not intimidated as she walked up to him to talk face-to-face.

Mitchell continued to flex his 24” biceps as his bulky friend turned and slammed $50 onto the table.  Bonnie turned her focus back to Mitchell.  Both flexed for the crowd of onlookers showing off their incredible physique and strength.  

“It’s not too late to back down,” Mitchell said cockily down to Bonnie.

“Hey,” Bonnie started, “a bet is a bet.  I’m not backing down!”

“Let’s get started then shall we,” Mitchell said down with a smug grin on his face.

“You’re on,” Bonnie cheered.

Nike knew it was time to begin her work.  Mitchell turned his back to Bonnie as he walked around the table to sit down.  He had never met a woman that could take him on in terms of brawn, until Bonnie came along.

Mitchell sat down across from Bonnie at the table.  Bonnie was a pretty massive girl, standing at 5’9” with 18” biceps, she posed a real threat to his undefeated streak.

The two locked hands over the umbrella hole in the center of the table.  Bonnie chuckled quietly as her entire right hand encompassed Mitchell’s.  He was really cocky considering the fact that she was 6’6”, an inch taller than him, and had 24” biceps to compliment.

The two gladiators began the battle of the ages with a flex of each arm.  Mitchell flexed with all of his might and began to move Bonnie’s arm toward the table.  Bonnie flexed very lightly to combat Mitchell.

She could tell he was fighting very hard to overtake her.  He was struggling to move her 32” arm.  Bonnie began to tap the fingers of her left hand nonchalantly on the table.

“Are you going to start anytime soon Mitchell,” Bonnie asked condescendingly.

Mitchell let out a loud groan as he pushed on Bonnie’s 44” bicep.  The veins bulged from under his skin.  His heart throbbed.  Bonnie was sapping his strength and he began to falter.

Bonnie let out a hearty laugh, “oh, is little Mitch getting tired,” Bonnie cooed.

She flexed effortlessly and slammed the back of Mitchell’s hand from a stalemate position in the center of the table, down to the hard mesh surface.  Bonnie’s 8’2” frame shot up from the table, arms held high in triumph.

“The champ has been beaten,” Bonnie shouted out.

Nike turned her back feeling confident.  However, she was still not done sending her message to Ares.

 

“Are you ready!” came a loud feminine from behind a door off to Nike’s right. The aura of competition was coming off in strong waves, but there was something else that caught the goddess’ attention. The stench of confidence wasn’t coming straight from a human, but was the work of the god Ares. This was another battle that the god of war had personally given a slight bit of interest in. Walking through the door to her right, Nike found himself inside of a cleared out living room with three individuals.

“And are you ready!” shouted a petite redhead that was wearing a black and white striped shirt.

Even the goddess of victory could tell that this was a lost competition from the start. On her left hand side stood a mountain of a man standing around 7’6” tall. Nike knew this mortal, heck she even rooted for him several times. Most people enjoyed a close game, but Nike had always been different. Nike enjoyed all competitions, but she particularly enjoyed one sided ones. The man in front of her was known throughout the states as The Son of Hercules. He held the current title in the heavy weight wrestling association. His real name was Steve if Nike remembered correctly.

To her right was a little mouse of a woman standing at barely 5’ even. Nike could tell that the two mortals in front of her must have been brother and sister, twins in fact and she knew a bit about how competitive twins can be. Given the fact that the two were about to participate in one of the most ancient of sports, Nike decided it was her duty to watch until the girl was declared the winner.

“Are you sure you don’t want to back down little bro?” asked Sarah as she crouched down into a wrestling pose.

A look of boredom passed over Steve’s face, “You were born five minutes before me pipsqueak.” A small smile grew on Nike’s face as the redhead started the match.

Steve had defeated numerous opponents and this had caused him to forget how good of a wrestler his sister was. Sarah had ducked down and had a firm hold of his right thigh. If Steve didn’t act fast his sister would soon knock him over and gain the better position. Usually Steve would just toss his opponent to the side, but being the same size as his sister didn’t give him this luxury.

“And the battle of the two midgets continues!” said the red head in the worst announcer voice that Nike had ever heard.

Steve brought his right leg back causing Sarah to stumble forward slightly. If everything worked out then Steve would soon be on top of Sarah as she laid face down on the ground. The only thing that Steve had to do now was wrap his arms around Sarah’s torso and force her forward onto her stomach.

“What’s wrong bro, can’t reach?” asked Sarah.

“Shut up!” replied Steve as he tried his best to reach his other hand. Unfortunately Sarah’s torso, and her boobs, were too big for Steve to completely reach around.

A giggle escaped Sarah’s lips as she simply stood up. Steve’s weight was barely noticeable, but then again it had always been unnoticeable since they were kids. Grabbing ahold of Steve’s hands Sarah simply held him out effortlessly in front of her. Watching all of Steve’s 2’6” body thrash about trying to get away was just too funny.

“You got to do better than that short stuff.” To Sarah’s surprise she felt her hands move slightly together as Steve tried his best to pull his outstretched arms back together. She was about to cheer him on until he stopped and she couldn’t blame him. His arms were completely engulfed by Sarah’s hands.

“Seems someone has been working out.” said Sarah as she began to gently squeeze the tiny arms in her hands. “What are you benching now, 1 maybe 2 pounds.”

“If you would let my arms go then I would show you!” shouted the six inch man as he continued to struggle.

“I don’t think that it’s going to make a difference little bro.” Sarah knew that it was hopeless for Steve to win against her, but she would at least play along with his request. Placing him gently on the ground, Sarah stood back up as she waited Steve to make his next move.

Nike had to give Steve a little credit. It took a lot of bravery in order for a three inch man to take on a girl twenty times taller than he was. Steve knew that the best way to take out someone bigger than you was to take out their feet from under them. Running forward Steve ran up to Sarah’s foot and proceeded to try and lift her toe skyward. The big toe on Sarah’s foot came up to his waist and was a lot heavier than he expected, but that didn’t stop Steve from trying.

“He’s doing it, he’s really doing it!” cheered the referee as she crouched down to get a closer look.

“You’re going down!” grunted Steve as he raised the toe above his head. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him, but Steve was never going to give up, not yet.

“Oh noooooo, what am I going to doooo.” Yawned Sarah as she browsed through facebook.

Steve’s legs buckled suddenly as the weight above him became too much for him to hold. Steve wanted nothing more than to win, but there was only so much that his centimeter body could do. Falling on his back Steve used his arms and legs in order to keep Sarah’s toes up but it was useless.

“Okay I give!” yelled Steve as his hands tried to hold onto the ridges on the bottom of his sister’s toe.

“What was that pipsqueak?” asked Sarah as she crouched down.

“Get off of me!” screamed Steve. The game was now over and the only thing he wanted now was to get out from underneath this giant toe. He was barely able to fit in between the two walls that made up just a small part of Sarah’s toe print.

“Hmm, I don’t want to, but I’ll make a deal with you.” Steve was now regretting this entire ordeal. How could he ever think that he could beat Sarah in a wrestling match when her fingerprint was like an maze with eight foot walls.

“I’ll let you out if you kiss the bottom of my foot, not the grooves but the very bottom.”

“You know I can’t reach!” yelled Steve as he looked upwards. To a normal person the bottom of Sarah’s toe was at least a hundred feet above his head.

“Then you better start trying to climb up the side.”

A smile spread across Nike’s face as she left the room. The once heavy weight champion of the world was now trapped underneath of his sister’s foot. Ares champion would continue to grow smaller until his sister decided to raise up her foot which wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Another competition soon caught the goddess’ attention as Nike pondered what she was going to do next.

Now bored once again Nike flew into the sky, searching for another place to observe completion, and help the women to dominate the men.

 

Observing a basketball court, Nike felt the spirit of competition there, and flew incloser.

 

She laughed, “This will be fun.”

 

A 5 foot tall young woman, Erie was standing in front of Tom, a large black man. Erie never backed down from a challenge, and despite her 2 foot height deficit to Tom, she was determined to beat him one on one.

 

Erie was wearing a jogging outfit, tight reflective and yellow, it hugged her voluptuous curves, and accentuated her feminine profile. She was quite fit, and her lean muscle stronger then it appeared.

 

“Hey little girl, good luck.”

 

“Thanks, Tom, errr, that’s your name right?”

 

“Yeah, You’re gonna need it.” Tom laughed

 

“Shut up Tom.” Erie dribbled left, then right, and turning around she wound up back to back with Tom, pushing her shoulders off of his, she spun and launched the ball, bouncing off the backboard, nothing but net.

 

“Luck” Tom recoiled.

 

“Skill, asshole.” Erie spat back.

 

Tom took the ball back and checked it to Erie, he stared her straight in the eyes, knowing he would win, despite this woman coming to the court and actually matching his height. He dribbled and spun to the right, cutting behind her, jumping for the layup, Tom thought it had gone in, but despite his best effort, the ball was now in Erie’s possession. She quickly pulled back, launching a two pointer from behind the line.

 

Swish. Perfection.

 

Tom, now concerned, took the ball back again. Dribbling and checking to Erie, he had never met a 9 foot tall person before, much less a lady this beautiful.

 

She launched from the line, to the right, and back to the left, her longer, stronger legs, defeating any resistance from Tom’s defense.

 

Laughed, Erie returned the ball and sent back the check to Tom.

 

Tom was nervous, but confident he could still beat her, despite her shoulder matching the rim of the basket. Laughing it off he dribbled in and cut between Erie’s legs, launching the ball to the rim, bouncing off and around the rim, but falling off the other side into Erie’s steely grip. She took the ball back, and held the ball to her hip, 10 feet in the air.

 

“Tom your friends can help if you like.”

 

Tom’s buddies ran in, and took up defensive positions.

 

Erie laughed, bouncing the tiny ball twice and checking it to Tom. She simply reached out from the line dropping the ball in the net, her 15 foot long arms assisting greatly. The tiny men underneath could do nothing but jump, and look up the 15 foot long legs of their opponent, their hands flailing in the air, hopelessly far from Erie’s strong feminine arms.

 

“5-0, I win” Erie poked her tongue out.

 

Tom sighed, walking away.

 

“What did you expect playing against a woman 6 times your size? Go play somewhere else.”

 

Nike turned away, laughing. “Take that Ares!”

 

Then Nike whisked away, to find other competitions of beautiful women and inferior men.

The Goddess Nike was still upset with her defeat at the hands of the god of war Ares. She had fixed a number of competitions to show just how much superior that women were than men and it still was not enough. Ares, and men in general, had to learn their place in this universe. While walking close to a nearby park, Nike froze as a very familiar presence became known. The god Ares was nearby.

Nike arrived at the source wanting to confront the god himself, but instead was met with two mortals stretching in the middle of a field. The girl was absolutely stunning to behold. She had the body of a trained athlete with the curves of the goddess of love herself. Long locks of curly blonde hair cascaded downwards towards a sports bra that was doing a poor job at containing the abundance of tit flesh underneath. She was a little on the short side at 5’4’ tall, but this didn’t stop Nike from calling her close to perfect. While she was bent over a masculine hand gave the curvy bum a good slap.

“Really Brian!” exclaimed the girl as she pushed against the guy’s chest. “That was uncalled for.”

“We both know that I’ll be pounding it later anyway so I just figured a little touch wouldn’t be a big deal Stac.” replied Brian. Nike deduced that Stac must have been short for Stacy.

“That’s beside the point! You promised to take this seriously!”

Nike had realized why the presence of Ares was so strong here despite the god himself still being on Olympus. Brian was a demigod, or more specifically a son of Ares. The flawless physique and waves of confidence coming off of him more than proved this. This competition definitely needed Nike’s intervention. A demigod surpassed the abilities of a regular mortal easily. Nike took a seat on the grass as the girl tossed the guy a stop watch. Nike first decided to even the odds.

“We’re going to see who can run twenty meters the fastest.”

“And I’ll give you a full second handicap,” chuckled Brian as he gave his girlfriend’s ass another love tap. The huge heart shape behind reminded Brian of how perfect of a match they were. Looking Stacy directly in the eye, Brian just couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey!” Brian was lucky that he was the same height as her, if he was any taller then she would have probably dumped him a while ago. Nike smiled as neither mortal realized the sudden loss of a foot in height that she just caused.

Nike watched on with disgust as Brian admired the curvy backside of Stacy swing mightily from side to side as she sprinted towards the goal. Nike had to admire Stacy as she ran with everything she had. It was the ninth wonder of the world that the sports bra didn’t burst from the strain Stacy’s rack exerted on it.

“Four seconds!” yelled Brian in mock surprise. “That brings your time down to just three seconds. Should be easy enough.”

Stacy reluctantly took the stop watch as Brian got into position. Nike knew that without her intervention then the demigod would surely win this competition. A smile quickly spread across her face as an old paradox crossed her mind.

“And GO!” yelled Stacy as she started the clock.

Brian wasted no time in sprinting forward causing a cloud of dust to form where his feet had been. Brian had never worked out in his entire life and yet the government was trying to persuade him into joining the upcoming Olympics. Brian couldn’t help but grin as he passed the halfway point.

Leaning forward Brian pressed himself as hard as his thirty two inch body would go. Stacy wasn’t too happy as she looked at the time on clock. At this rate Brian would win their competition. The smile on Brian’s face grew even wider as only five meters separated him from victory. It was truly surprising for most people that a sixteen inch tall guy like Brian could be so athletic.

Seeing as Brian was about to win anyway Stacy hung the watch around her neck as she walked towards the finish line. Two and a half meters to go and Brian would show Stacy just how much faster he was than her. If she was lucky then if he wouldn’t wear her out too much with his lean and muscular eight inch frame.

Stacey was now standing above Brian as he passed the 1.25 meter mark. Signs of sweat were covering his four inch body as he continued to sprint for all he was worth. Around sixty two centimeters to go, the smile quickly disappeared from his face as he noticed the two massive bus size feet of his girlfriend at either side of him. The sneaker had a one inch heel which did nothing but remind him that he was only two inch tall. You would think that Stacy would respect his wishes and not wear shoes with such a high lift.

Stacy had to get on all fours to get a better look at Brian. With just a little over a foot to go, the little guy was still giving it all he had. It was surprising to her that his legs could move that fast on the inch tall man.

Darkness had surrounded him as only six inches remained of this race. Looking up, Brian just couldn’t help but stare as the building size jugs of his girlfriend swung slightly above him. If Stacy wasn’t careful then she could easily crush his half inch body with those giant things.

“God!” exclaimed Stacy as she waited for Brian to run the last three inches. Her cheeks were already flushed as she watched the muscular form of her quarter inch boyfriend run underneath her. Stacy pressed her pelvis into the ground trying her best to quench the lust that she had right now. Just being around the tiny guy was turning her on.

Brian could feel a painful stitch forming in his side, but he knew that it was about to be over. Just one and a half inches was all that was left of this race.

“FUCK!”

Brian took a chance to look behind him and what he saw made his jaw drop. Stacy was looking down at him with a pissed off expression on her face. To anybody else it would seem that she was upset, but Brian knew differently. Stacy was extremely horny right now as she stared down greedily at his eighth of an inch body. Two massive(to Brian) peaks were visible underneath of Stacy’s sports bra. Stacy was now massaging one of her breasts and gave out a small moan as her fingertips barely brushed against her nipple.

“GO FASTER!”

Stacy didn’t know whether she could hold out for the remaining ž of an inch. Just a little bit more and her miniscule boyfriend would be finished. People wouldn’t believe how turned on she could get from playing with the sixteenth of an inch tall guy.

Nike just couldn’t help but laugh as Stacy continued to get upset as she waited for Brian to finish. She watched as Stacy ripped the stop watch from her side and looked upon the face of it.

“That’s enough Brian!” Brian couldn’t help it as two massive fingers gently picked him up from the ground.

“But I was nearly done!” shouted Brian. It was true that he was nearly finished, but he doubted that his body had enough energy left to finish this race. Being set down on Stacy’s finger, Brian took this time to finally rest.

“It’s been thirty seconds Brian, I won a while ago!” Stacy wanted nothing more than to start having sex right now, but she was in public and Brian was a little too tired. Pulling the front of her sports bra forward, Stacy placed her boyfriend gently on her right nipple.

“You better be ready to fuck by the time I get home!”

Stacy began to storm off towards her apartment. It was impossible to tell how much more Brian had to run, but she wasn’t going to wait anymore for her grain of sand sized boyfriend to finish. He had better be ready to please her by the time they got home.

Nike couldn’t have been more happier with herself. A son of Ares couldn’t even finish something as simple as a race. Of course Nike’s mood turned sour yet again as she thought back to her defeat. She would have her revenge against the arrogant god soon, but it would have to wait as yet another competition caught the goddess’ attention.