Tammy took a drag of her cigarette, enjoying the warmth of the sun in April. April showers, her ass. It had been the sunniest month of the year, and she’d be damned if she weren’t going to continue soaking it up for as long as possible. She hadn’t been invited to anything for Easter, so it was same old, same old. She was almost a full decade from retirement age, but she’d been retired for years. It had taken her a while, but after she’d gotten it through to the social security fucks that her ADD wouldn’t let her work, she’d had smooth sailing for the past couple decades.

She had to remind herself sometimes that she wasn’t that old or that fat. That Joan was fatter than her by at least a hundred pounds. And Dotty was thirty-something years older. Still, all the same, she got down about it sometimes. Dotty was thinner than her and Joan was younger. And they both had husbands.

She pulled her red Solo cup out from between her jugs. Her first thought was that it was empty. Her second thought was one word: jugs. She giggled. Jugs was a funny word, especially when she was drunk and feeling good. You couldn’ta called them anything else besides jugs, though. She knew it was dumb to be proud of her tits, considering she only had them on account of her belly, thighs, and upper arms matching, but she was proud all the same.

Her plastic chair nearly snapped under her weight as she leaned to the side to feel, without looking, through the long-melted ice in her cooler. She almost stood up when she realized there wasn’t a single beer left. How many was that today? Seven? Thirteen? Seventeen? She knew maybe she’d be living a little ritzier than a trailer park if she wouldn’t spend half her income on booze, but there wasn’t exactly anything else to do, living alone outside the edge of a trailer park in the middle of Bumfuck. A trap is what it was. Besides, where else would she live? A studio apartment in some ghetto?

She finished the cigarette she’d been working on. Slightly disgruntled that she didn’t have a beer to accompany it, she didn’t see the point in not making the most of it before she had to stand up and complete her Sunday evening ritual of hassling her neighbors for their spare booze.

It wasn’t like she never paid them back. Sure, it wasn’t always in cash: she’d occasionally treat some of them to her company, talking about the good old days with the guys who’d been living out in the middle of West Virginia almost longer than her.

They’d tell her to get lost real quick, of course. Nobody had any interest in fat, old Tammy. She scowled as she snuffed her cigarette underneath one of her plastic flip-flops and promptly lit another. She once caught Rick’s kids (Bryce and Jayden? Stupid fuckin’ names like that, anyways.) trying to throw quarters into her asscrack. Rick and his young, blonde wife, Trinity, had scolded them while Tammy was in sight, but after she’d turned a corner, she’d heard him joke to his kids that they’d have better luck aiming for her tits. But what did she care? At least someone noticed her tits. Plus, she’d made a couple bucks that day and every day them kids pulled the same shit since then. Enough to bum a handful of cigarettes off Greg.

She couldn’t help asking Greg first every time. Beer always got her in the mood, and it had been years since she’d gotten more than a kiss on the cheek from a daughter or two swinging by. Hell, it had been years since she’d gotten even that. Greg reminded her of her husband and he lived nearest her. She was an old widow—was it so wrong to have her fantasies? She made the excuse that he smoked the same cigarettes as her, but nearly everyone in the park did. Some of the kids smoked menthols, but it’s not like she cared enough if it came down to it. She stuffed her half empty pack where the Solo cup had been and stood up.

Tammy stood up and took the few waddling and uneven steps it took her to get to the cooler, even though it was within arm’s reach. She leaned down—asscrack popping out of her jeans, be damned; who the hell was walking out to her trailer to peek?—and dunked her hands in the cool water. She brought them up and slapped her ruddy cheeks, before lathering them across her sunburnt chest. Tammy had been sweating the whole day out in the heat-wave induced warmth. A quick rinse, however ineffective, was the least she could do if she was going door-to-door like an evangelical in the next couple minutes. If she could stand long enough to do it.

She grabbed a copy of The National Enquirer she’d been reading last month and fanned herself with it, but it was no use. She was going to be sweating late into the night tonight. It wasn’t all bad, though. At least maybe she wouldn’t get such horrible chub rub. Hell, maybe if she was lucky, she’d even sweat her fat ass off. She giggled again and almost fell over, but leaned on her RV.

The thought that maybe she was too drunk to mooch for another beer didn’t occur to her, and, frankly, it wouldn’t have occurred to anyone else. Tammy’s desperate, drunken laughter trailed around the park at least twice a week, and always, like tonight, on Sundays. The liquor stores, for who-knew-what-reason, stayed closed on the weekends out in Bumfuck. And Tammy, self-diagnosed ADD and permanent drunken stupor and all, wasn’t the type to plan ahead. Even after thirty-some years of the same thing.

So tonight was a surprise.

Tammy knocked on Greg’s door first, as always. “Greg?” she croaked, her eyes half-closed and her mouth half-open. “Hey Greg, I wanna talka yuh.” Years of chain smoking had practically turned her voice male, but what did she care? She knocked louder. He’d told her to bother someone else plenty of times, but he’d never outright ignored her before. And she doubted he was out with the others for the Easter thing. He was a loner like her. Unlike her, by choice. “Hey Greg! Watzidea? Doncha wan’ say hi?” She knocked harder, then harder until the door flew open.

She felt sorry for a second. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been knocking. But curiosity quickly replaced her guilt. Tammy took a step inside his trailer, feeling the floor creak under her. “Greg?” she whispered, or thought she whispered. The light in the trailer was still on. She could feel herself getting even hotter. There was something about being in your crush’s place, no matter how old you were. “Greg?”

She stepped through the kitchen/living room, feeling self-conscious about her swamp ass, in case she really was walking in on him. She used to live in a trailer before she’d broken through it’s floor on account of her weight. Now she had her RV. She tried to tip toe for a second, but lost balance as she was passing the sink and leaned onto the counter, accidentally knocking his flip phone into the sink’s dirty dish water. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself. She might be drunk, but she knew clear as day she couldn’t afford to replace his phone. She’d have to do some apologizing. Once she found him. She put The National Enquirer down and passed into his bedroom.

Thank god for his fan. She lifted her shirt up so she could air out, forgetting where she was. The air felt so nice on her. Then she remembered and became embarrassed and whirled around, scared Greg would come into the room and see. In the process, she lost her balance and would have fallen down onto the floor if she hadn’t expertly aimed for the bed. She plopped, with a grunt, onto his single-sized mattress, the whole trailer—it felt to her—shaking underneath her weight. She landed belly first and laid on his bed while she tried to make the world stop spinning.

It was while she had her eyes closed that she swore she heard Greg. But it was small. And distant. But near too. She slowly managed to lift her eyelids long enough to see that it was Greg. And though he wasn’t distant, he was small. And naked. He was trying to push her thumb, but he was practically no bigger than her chipped pink nail.

She licked her lips, trying to figure out if she was awake or not.

“Tammy!” Greg yelled. “It’s me.”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t ignore me,” she said. “You’re too…” She started to drift off.

“Tammy!” Greg yelled again. “You gotta wake up!”

“Why?”

“Because!” he yelled, though she could barely hear him. “You gotta call the cops or something!”

“Can I do it tomorrow?” she whined, her eyes still closed. She realized she’d had a couple more than usual. So, twenty-something?

“No!”

She rolled her eyes, but at least they were open. “You’re so small,” she said. She poked him in his crotch. “You’re a little,” (She hiccuped.) “cutie. I could eat you up.” She looked at Greg longingly, feeling herself getting even hotter. Mostly underneath her waist.

He started backing away, until he’d climbed onto his pillow and was leaning against the wall. Her eyes remained on him the entire time.

“Hey Greg!” she yelled, despite being near to him. “How come you’re so friggin’ tiny?”

“I don’t know, Tammy,” he said. She started giggling, shaking the bed and knocking him off balance. “What’s so funny?” he asked, unsuccessfully trying to regain his balance.

“I’m just glad you din’t ask why I’m so big!” She burst out laughing, unaware her spit was going nearly everywhere, even on Greg. “You’re such a good guy, Greg.” She sucked her drool back up while she considered what to do. “Tell you what. You come with me, and we’ll go getcha some help.”

Greg tried to back away further as Tammy got on her hands and knees and crawled towards him. “I’m alright, Tammy,” he said, trying not to show his fear. “Why don’t you go on ahead and get the help and then come back? I’ll give you all the cigarettes you want.”

She kept crawling to him, her breasts practically spilling out of her pink, one-size-too-small (despite being the largest size) wife beater. In fact, her pack of cigarettes did spill out, the cigarettes scattering in front of her in the process. She mumbled something indistinguishable as she tried to collect them. She picked up a few with the scoop of her hand, accidentally breaking a couple in the process. Tobacco spilled out of them in front of her. It occurred to her maybe she oughtn’t try to pick up Greg. Not enough to change her mind.

She reached her thick, calloused hand out in front of her and pinched Greg between her pointer finger and thumb. He grunted with pain, but how else was she supposed to pick him up? “Here,” she said. “I gotcha.” She placed him in the now-empty pack of cigarettes and tore the lid off. Then she sat up and placed the pack back between her breasts.

She sat, admiring her handiwork. “That’s not so bad, is it?” she laughed down at him, aware that the angle he was looking at her from probably wasn’t doing her double chin any favors. She drooled a little and sucked it back up.

“Tammy,” he said, “I take back what I said. I think it’s best you just take a nap right now.”

She breathed in deeply, admiring the way her chest—with Greg in it—rose and fell with each breath. “You think?” she said. She gazed down at him, her eyes starting to close again.

“Aw shit,” she heard him say. “What the fuck, Tammy.” She opened her eyes and realized she’d drooled into the pack. She wiped her mouth unceremoniously. Then she pissed herself. She didn’t realize she had until the smell hit her. But once she noticed, the warm liquid marinating her shorts took her attention and put it into getting off the bed. She took a deep breath and regretted it, before standing up.

Tammy took a second to regain her balance before she started walking. Her right hand patted around her crotch area to assess the damage. Tomorrow was laundry day, so who really cared. She would’ve just gone back to her RV to sleep it off, if she hadn’t been tasked with the mission of helping Greg. She kept patting herself, though, and as she did, her hand slowly turned to rubbing. The love of her life was right between her tits, and she was in his trailer. She unbuttoned her trousers and snuck her left hand down.

Right next to Greg’s now-busted front door, Tammy, still walking while she massaged her clit, saw his mini fridge. She opened it with her spare hand and grabbed a beer, expertly opening it.

“I really don’t think you need another, Tammy,” Greg said, but his voice was muffled.

“And what the hell do you know?” she said. She began draining it of its contents. Who cared what Greg thought? He was stupid anyways, probably jerking off all on his own most nights when there was a single woman right next door to him. She rubbed her fingers around the inside of her labia, her natural lube (combined with sweat and piss) letting her glide them freely around. Her hair down there didn’t really bother her. It kinda felt nice on her wrist, actually. Her dead husband—God rest his soul—had always complained. She used to shave it for him, but he’d been gone for years.

She slipped her fingers inside herself and pulled them back out. Then back in, but not entirely back out. As she gained speed, she felt her whole body jiggling and shaking. “You’re so cute, Greg,” she cooed to him. “I like you when you’re so little.” She didn’t care that she was now steadily drooling on him. He looked up at her, confused via denial as to what was happening. Until she let out a moan.

“Aw, God, Tammy,” he said. “What the hell.” Another strand of her drool fell down onto him. It was coating the entire bottom of the container. The sweat from her now bouncing breasts was almost soaking through its walls.

Then, with a series of grunts, she wet herself again, though it wasn’t piss this time. She leaned on the mini-fridge for a moment and collected herself. Once she’d caught her breath, she grabbed another beer and stepped out of the trailer.

Tammy slipped her hand out of her pants once she got outside. She tried briefly to button them back up, but her fingers were both too clumsy and too slippery to do any good. Plus, they were already holding the magazine, a cigarette, and a beer. Who cared about a stupid button? It was too bad Greg wasn’t full sized to help her. She giggled, then felt a twinge of remorse.

“I’m a woman, I have needs,” she explained to herself, stumbling off his porch and down his steps. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Everybody has ‘em. Men especially. But women too. Everyone.” Then, remembering Greg was still with her, she peeked down at him. He was curled in a ball. Poor little guy. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll get you help. We’re going over to Lou’s right now. Him’n Marge’ll know what to do. Maybe even their kid will know something. He’s real good with science, that one.”

She lit the one unbroken cigarette she’d picked up and brought it to her mouth. She inhaled. She looked down at Greg and paused, her brown hair falling onto him. “God, you are all man, ain’t you?” She exhaled and smiled down at him, but he didn’t return the gesture, too busy coughing. “I’m real fuckin’ drunk, ain’t I? I bet you ain’t even real.” She giggled. Then, seeing how her giggles tossed him from side to side of the pack, she giggled harder and harder until she had to put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

“Now, if I could just find someone to pinch me, so I’d know I was dreaming for sure.” She held her hand over her eyes to block out the sun. “I thought there’d be more people out hunting for eggs. Or at least getting drunk.” She frowned. “You an’ me, Greg; we’re loners. But isn’t there usually some kinda gathering on Easter?”

She kept walking to Lou and Marge’s trailer. Sure enough, she saw a brightly colored egg in the tall grass surrounding their back tire. It was too late in the day for it to not have been found. She paused when she was right in front of it and leaned down to grab it, placing her hand over her breasts so Greg didn’t fall out.

“Would ya lookit that?” she said. “Weird.” She felt a tingling on her foot and started to laugh again. Her eyes still glued to the brightly colored egg, she ignored the bug at first. It was harmless, crawling over and under her toes. She never minded when ants crawled around her toes when she was sitting in front of her trailer. It was like when she was a kid, living in this same damn park. She’d place a finger down in front of ants, actually hoping they’d crawl on her.

It felt kinda nice actually. It had crawled up onto her big toe nail (I gotta repaint those tomorrow, she reminded herself) and started tickling the knuckle. She started laughing harder and wiggled her toes. Why the hell would a bug want to be on them? They were the dirtiest part of her body right now, crotch not included. But whatever. It stopped annoying her and she took another drag of her cigarette.

Then the fucker bit her. That got her undivided attention. She shook her foot to get the bug off it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t an ant. When she stepped back down, she felt a miniscule crunch. She put the egg back where it came from. If she ate anything right now, she knew she’d be sick.

In front of her, she saw another bug. She couldn’t say what type for sure: she was supposed to wear glasses, but who the hell had money for that shit? She was glad she had been able to see Greg, considering he’d been smack dab in front of her. She couldn’t imagine how guilty she would’ve felt if she’d accidentally thought he was a bug. “C’mere you,” she said. She slammed her foot forward, and felt the bug crunch under the same foot as the other. She saw a third, running away. Of course the second the weather gets nice, all the bugs come out.

“You’re a fast fucker, aintcha?” she said, walking to catch up to it. Good thing bugs were so small. No matter how fast they were, you could be faster.  It made a turn around Lou’s mailbox. As if that was going to make a difference. She imagined she would tell Lou later about helping him out with his apparent infestation. Maybe he’d give her a free drink for her efforts. “Don’t be scared, little guy,” she said. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

The bug seemed to understand her. It peeked its head out from behind the corner. “I know I hurt your buddies, but that was just by accident. There’s no reason to be,” (She hiccuped.) “scared. Come on out. I gotcha.” The bug, to her surprise, actually scuttled out to the side of the mailbox. It moved away from her a bit more, but at least it was in sight. Tammy looked down, squinting to no avail. Was she some kinda bug whisperer? Maybe she could be famous. She’d be on The National Enquirer someday. She rolled the magazine up and squatted down. She poked it and it backed away. She giggled. “You’re small, just like Greg, huh?”

Greg heard her say that. “Are there other people who got shrunk, too?” he asked.

She looked down at Greg and frowned, curious. “Are you stupid or something? Ain’t nobody else gonna be tiny too. It’s not really something that happens to everyone every day, is it? It’s just a bug.” The bug started running away again, but Tammy was close enough that all she had to do was reach out and swat it. “See? Told you it wasn’t gonna hurt,” she said. “Quick and painless.” She laughed.

She knocked on Lou’s door, but nobody answered. She’d figured they’d be out. She wasn’t going to bust down two doors in one day. Greg’s place was enough ruin for now. Which reminded her, her pants were still soaking. She unfurled the magazine and pressed it against her crotch, letting it soak up as much of her urine as it possibly could. When it didn’t completely make her pants dry again, she pressed it harder, as if that would help.

She realized she was still turned on as her hand embraced her crotch deeper and deeper. She was practically fingering herself through the magazine and her jeans. She closed her eyes, almost falling asleep where she stood. Greg was right about not having those last two beers.

Greg. Right. She was outside. Not a good place to stand around masturbating. She opened her eyes again. So Lou and Marge were elsewhere. She’d walk to the center of the campsite and find someone. Anyone sober could figure something out. She tried to toss the magazine into the trash can out front of Lou’s, but missed. Whatever. She’d clean it up on her way back.

Tammy was sweating something awful by the time she passed Rick’s trailer. She wished she hadn’t chucked her magazine so she could fan herself. Of course, that sort of required that it be clean, and it wasn’t. You win some; you lose some.

She started absentmindedly rubbing her crotch again, wondering where everyone had gone off to. She’d wanted to have more fun back in Greg’s trailer, but she needed to help him. Maybe today was the day he’d finally see how nice she was, and he’d realize what he’d been missing out on this whole time. Then, when he was big, they were already neighbors. It was almost too perfect.

She stumbled and fell over, saving her fall with her arms, but not enough stop her from scraping her elbows and knees. “Shit,” she said. But whatever. It happened. You get blackout drunk five nights a week, you pick up some scrapes and bruises. As she tried to stand up, though, she realized that, once more, there really were tiny people in front of her. Bryce and Jayden, the little shits. She laughed. They were definitely little.

“What the fuck is she laughing at?” the younger one (Brayden?) asked his older brother.

“Don’t look at me,” the older one said. “The fat bitch is fucking drunk.”

She frowned. “That’s not a very nice thing to call someone,” she said. They shut up. Normally, they were higher on the trailer park pecking order than her. Today was a little different.

She grabbed the two of them swiftly into her fist and brought them inches from her face. So what if they could see every tiny hair on her mustache? Or smell her breath? She was sure it wasn’t exactly the best smelling around, unless you liked the smell of cigarettes and beer. Some people did.

She inspected the two boys. “You two’re always giving me shit, ain’t you?” The most they could do, squeezed together in her fat fist, was nod. “Answer me!”

“Yeah!” the older one squeaked.

“That’s ‘yes, ma’am’ to you. You got that?” They nodded. “I said you got that?”

“Yes, ma’am!” they said in unison.

Tammy laughed, spraying spit in their faces. “Alright, good. I’m not gonna hurt you. Just wanted to let you know while I got the chance.” She realized she was still lying down on the ground from her fall. Greg was starting to fall out of the pack, even though it was at an upward slope. She sat up, not wanting him to wander off and get eaten by a stray cat or something of the like.

“Where’re your parents?” she asked them.

“You probably sat on them you fat ass!” said the older one.

“Everybody’s shrunk except you, you fuckin’ bitch!” the younger one said.

Tammy scowled. “If I was you, I’d watch that mouth. If everybody’s small but me, you best learn yourself how to be kind to an old lady for once in your life.” Old? Did she say that? She leaned down on her elbow. Sitting up without a back support was hard work for a drunk lady. “You two are always fuckin’ pullin’ shit. If this ain’t karma, I don’t right know what is.”

“Tammy,” she heard Greg’s muffled voice say from inside her cleavage, “they’re just kids. Leave ‘em alone. Go get a phone.”

“You’re right,” she said. “You’re right. Fine.” She leaned back a little further and started falling asleep again—the sun just felt so nice on her right there—when she heard the younger one try to whisper to his brother, “Did she pee herself?”

“Dude, shut up,” the older one said.

Then a little nudge prodded at her elbow.

“Hey, Tammy!” Rick’s voice came from her side. She could just barely hear him, but her head was pretty close to the ground now. Lucky for him, or he could’ve just been another bug. She turned to face him.

“Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me! And Trinity.”

“Hey!” Trinity called up to her.

“Rick, tell your kids to stop being such shits.” Tammy rolled over onto her side to face them. She scooped Rick and Trinity up and put them in her now open palm with their two kids. She breathed heavily from her open mouth onto them.

“Watch the drool,” Greg said to her. She slurped it back up.

“Sorry,” she said. When she said it, naturally, it came back out and landed on the family.

“You fat ass bitch!” The youngest said.

Trinity slapped him. “You watch your fuckin’ mouth, Aiden. You need to be respecting her right now.”

Just right now? Tammy thought. She giggled, looking at them. “You’re all so small. My hand’s big as your trailer.”

“Christ,” said Rick. “She’s piss drunk. Why’d it have to be her didn’t get shrunk?”

The older son started laughing when he said piss drunk. Trinity slapped him too. “I got enough to whoop you too, Blake.”

Tammy scowled down at them. The heat that had turned her horny earlier was making her just plain angry now. These fuckers couldn’t even be nice when they were in her palm. “How come y’all always pick on me, huh?” she asked. “Why not Joan?”

“We’re all real sorry for how my boys behave,” Rick said. “They’ll be correcting themselves in the future. Now, if you could just—

“No, really,” she said. “I wanna know. Why me?”

“Tammy,” Rick said, “can you go find a phone or something? This really ain’t funny.”

She closed her palm around them and lifted them from her chest to directly in front of her mouth.

“Tammy,” Greg said.

She ignored him. “I know it ain’t funny. That’s what I wanna know.”

“C’mon,” Rick said.

“Just tell me. What’s so wrong with me?”

“Um,” Blake said. Trinity shot him a glance, but her hands were pressed firmly at her side in Tammy’s increasingly sweaty fist. “Well, maybe you just need to get some bigger clothes. That’s all.”

“We make fun at Joan plenty, too,” said Aiden. “You’re just not there usually.”

Tammy frowned. “So that’s it? Someone’s fat, you gotta make fun of ‘em?” She reached behind her and scratched her ass.

The kids were silent, thinking. “They’ve learned their lesson, Tammy,” Rick interrupted. “They won’t ever mess with you or Joan again.”

“I don’t even eat all that much!” Tammy continued. “It ain’t all my fault! I’m big boned. Some people just look fat no matter what. I was fat as a kid. What was I supposed to do? Never eat?” She looked at them. They looked terrified. Good. Served them right. She plucked Rick out of her hand. “I hear you talkin’ shit on me, too, you know. Talking, talking, talking with that mouth of yours. All cuz I eat.” She paused and slurped her drool back up. Good thing Greg had reminded her. “This shrinkin’ serves you right come to think of it.”

She licked Rick. She took her tongue and slowly stroked it up him. He was naked just like Greg, and she made sure to spend extra time on his crotch. Commenting on her tits. He wanted her; she knew it. He and Greg. Every man in the park had probably thought about it before. She had tits and an ass. What more could they want?

Sure enough he was hard in no time. Only took three strokes of her tongue along his body. “I knew it,” she breathed over him, her humid breath sticking to him like her saliva.

“What the fuck?” Trinity yelled. Tammy dropped Rick between her breasts with Greg. Then she plucked Trinity out of her fist. “Put me down, you fat fucking cunt!” Trinity yelled.

Like hell, Tammy thought. “You know,” she said, “maybe if you weren’t so mean, your kids wouldn’t be.” She put Trinity into her mouth and positioned her underneath her right molars. Then she bit down. Trinity, Tammy discovered, tasted like metal and meat. She realized the metal was blood. “Oops,” she said, her drunken southern drawl surrounding Trinity’s quickly fading consciousness from all sides. She hadn’t meant to actually bite her. Tammy had just wanted to scare her was all. But what was done was done. She chewed a few more times before swallowing Trinity.

She frowned. The kids were yelling over each other, hurling cusses and insults at her with such speed that she couldn’t really follow a single one to completion. But she knew they were little shits. And she knew they tried to throw quarters down her asscrack. So they’d go where the occasional quarter did.

Her pants were still unbuttoned. She unceremoniously took her fist and squeezed it down between her cheeks, until she could poke at her asshole with her finger. Then she let the boys go. She looked back down at the pack between her breasts, in which Greg and Rick were frozen, absorbing her saliva and sweat.

She plucked Rick between her fingers and looked him in the eye. Just as she was about to say something, the boys started squirming. Her swamp ass was enough lube for them to be able to move, and move they did, though they didn’t get anywhere. And it felt… good. She shuddered, moaned, and sat back up. “Oh my god…” Not even thinking about Rick, she lowered her hand to start fingering herself again.

“Tammy!” Greg yelled at her. “Stop!”

He was right. She was outside. Even if everyone else in the whole damn park was tiny, it was still unladylike. She released Rick in between her labia and let him do her work for her. Invisibly. And god was he doing it. She wished she had more people pleasing her. She was starved for it; she wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

She stood up. The tingling in her ass stopped momentarily, then started back up even stronger when she let some gas escape her. She tried not to judge herself. Beer made her gassy. It hadn’t mattered all that much to anyone before.

 Everyone else would be at the campfire. Even if they were all tiny, one of them could tell her where to get a phone. She was going to take charge. “Here I come, fellas” she said. “I’m gonna rescue all of you.”

Everyone else was at the campfire, huddled in a cluster beside it. They hadn’t witnessed her interaction with Rick’s family, thank God. They’d get the wrong idea. It was easier to figure out what they were since they were all huddled together like that. They were all naked, which was kinda funny to her. Like a little trailer park sized orgy. There was Dotty and her husband. And Joan, still bigger than everybody, even at a couple inches tall. They were all so cute, arguing among themselves. They were trying to climb up on the chair. It was adorable!

The campfire had yet to be lit. It wasn’t dark out and there was plenty of unopened beer left around. They must’ve shrunk before anything really got under way. Well, why the hell not have one more for the road? There was an untouched 6-pack right next to the chair all the little guys were trying to climb onto. She lumbered over to it and sat down, ignoring the crunch she heard when she did until she was good and ready to stand back up. She grabbed another beer and took a second to appreciate the two boys that were still wriggling in her ass. She prodded her crotch and Rick started wiggling around again too.

After she’d finished the first beer of her new pack, Tammy stood up to figure out where the crunch came from. Another broken phone. And another bug too. She swept them off the chair and sat back down. She grabbed another beer and finished even more quickly than the one before.

All the little trailer park Easter partiers were gazing up at her. She leaned down over them and burped. They scattered in a circle and she realized she’d accidentally drooled on them. “Oops,” she said. “Sorry.” She laughed. “Y’all wanna see something?” She crushed her empty can against her forehead, then laughed and tossed it to the side. Then she grabbed another.

After her third helping of campfire beer, Tammy didn’t have the ability to speak real well. She started fingering her crotch again, but through her jeans since she was still (barely) aware people were watching.

Or, they weren’t really watching. They were arguing among themselves. Probably about some stupid phone. Why couldn’t they just enjoy themselves? It was a nice day out. And it would be pretty cool to be small for a day. She was kinda jealous, in a way. It was like being left out all over again. But whatever.

She decided she wasn’t going to find a phone today, but she’d save everyone tomorrow. She’d call the authorities and when they showed up she’d present all her neighbors to them to be fixed. She absentmindedly started fingering herself. The tingling in both sides of her pants had stopped.

Tammy started drifting off to sleep but throwing up brought her back from the brink. Well, if she was going to fall asleep in this damn chair—the walk back to her trailer felt too daunting, and, besides, who was going to judge her?—she might as well have another. She knew she’d had more than enough, but it was right there and she was already in “bed.” When she leaned over to grab the fourth one from the ground, the chair tipped until it was balancing her on two legs. Then it broke.

She avoided falling on any of the people, so that was good. She realized they were all watching her. Judging her, probably. She didn’t have the effort in her to stand back up. In fact, she barely had the effort to open the fourth can.

She spat out the dirt and wiped her tongue off with her hand, failing to realize her hand was just as dirty. She turned to face the crowd. They had moved a few feet away from her. Half of them were looking at her apprehensively, the other half seemed to be in a heated discussion. Tammy couldn’t really hear them over her ears ringing.

She managed to crawl a couple feet toward them and started poking them. Mostly Joan. Fatty. Tammy laughed a big, stupid laugh. The shadow of just her head was enough to shade all of them. It really was like a little orgy. Nobody was having sex, but she was definitely turned on. What was Rick up to? He’d stopped moving. She moved her hand to feel him out. She quickly became distracted, opting instead to finger herself.

The few extra beers were kicking her at full throttle now. She looked down at the crowd beneath her, and realized she had them all at her fingertips. She swept in with her hand and scooped most of the crowd up, then sat up. An idea occurred to her. “I was thinkin’. I’m rescuin’ y’all right now, so maybe y’all could do me a favor for once.” She sat up and struggled with stretching her underwear’s waistband. Gosh, they were really squirming! Must be all trying to nod their heads in agreement. And even if some weren’t, who cared? She was their savior. She deserved this.

She brought her fat fist down to her crotch. She swirled their heads around her pubes and giggled at how they tingled. If she’d had fun with the sensation of the two boys before, this was a whole new world. How many of them were there? She never counted, and wasn’t about to try. Once her hand was firmly in front of her vulva—in the sweaty, pissy, and cummy dark confines of her panties—she started to release them.

Instantly, her reward came. The tingling, writhing mass of people in her underwear felt so good beating their fists against her labia. And they were starting to climb over each other, hooking themselves onto her clit to pull themselves out. Inevitably, though, whatever tingling hit her clit never lasted too long, and someone else took its place. It was so cute of them to take turns. Sexy too. Her fist uncurled into a palm, and she pressed the crowd against her vulva.

Those lucky bastards. They were probably having so much fun. But none of them were actually going inside her. They needed some help. She took her pointer and middle fingers and poked them into herself as deeply as they would go. Two only slipped further in, and one started to climb out. Either way, they felt good. She pushed a few more in to join them, in the process getting wetter and wetter. She hoped the little guys wouldn’t drown.

Tammy noticed there was another ten or so people who had run away. She got back up an her hands and knees and crawled over to them, her belly scraping along the ground. “Dontcha guys wannhave fun too?” she managed to slur.

She grabbed them up in her hand and looked at them. Weren’t they that new family who had just moved in last week? All ten of ‘em? “Welcome,” she beamed. “I hope y’all like it here.” They were dirty from the dust, so she licked them. Much better. She held them back out in front of her and moaned. She was getting ready for her second orgasm of the night. “Wait here,” she said, her eyes slowly shutting and snapping back open. She pulled open her bra on the right side and placed half of them on her nipple, then placed the other half on the other side.

Tammy started trying to stand up, but the squirming in her pants and on her tits brought her back down to the ground. She moaned repeatedly, clenching her thighs together, then pulling them apart, then clenching them back together again. She didn’t want to crush everyone, now that they were finally getting along, but she couldn’t help herself. It felt so good; they were doing such a good job. She was glad everyone was having fun.

In between her tits, the pack holding Greg had slid further down until it was completely concealed in her fat. She noticed when she looked down to see if he was having as good a time as her. Her orgasm had slowed down, although she was immediately ramping up for another. “Sorry,” she said. Her hand snuck in between her breasts with some effort and managed to pull him back out.

Greg sat in the pack of cigarettes, helplessly watching Tammy’s slobbering face focus as hard as it could on standing up, before she fell down again. She scratched her armpit with the hand she was holding him in, and her hairs went into the pack and brushed against him. Her armpit was his entire view for half a minute. Then her face again. She burped on him while she tried to formulate words.

“I know where putcha,” she finally said.

Then he was moving. He had no idea where he was going until the pack tilted and he got a view of what looked like cleavage. Bursting out of denim. As the pack tilted more and more, he pressed himself against both sides of the pack, trying to keep himself from falling into Tammy’s pale, cellulite ridden ass. He was only half-successful. The sweat infused walls were slick and he was scrambling.

“Watcha doin?” she asked. She brought him back to her face. She drooled on him again, but realized that he probably wouldn’t care tomorrow. He’d be so excited they’d finally slept together after all these years, he’d forgive her for sure. She laughed, then moaned, then brought him back down to her ass. She shook the pack violently and, sure enough, he fell out. Her ass did a fair job of swallowing him by itself, but her finger poked him in further then further until the hairs surrounding her asshole clung to him.

Tammy giggled. She’d never really liked butt stuff, but Greg was special to her. She scrunched up her face, poked him inside her asshole, and gasped. It didn’t feel good, but it certainly felt interesting. Maybe he wasn’t in far enough. She poked him in further. Her finger didn’t do much for her, but his wriggling around felt just like a continuation of what was going on in the front.

Which reminded her. Some of them were almost starting to get out. Finally, she had both hands free and managed to button her pants. They were so tight, cutting into her skin. Maybe those kids were right—her pants were awful tight. She zippered them up. Those lucky ducks. She could feel them having the times of their lives, probably making out and doing all kinds of things in the folds of her skin. She hoped none of them would give her any diseases.

She laid on the ground in the center of the camp and groaned, soaking up the sun. It was a little bit cooler now than earlier in the day, but not by all that much. She didn’t mind getting sweaty though. Hopefully nobody else did.

Her next orgasm was prompted by a scuffle around her clit. Maybe they hadn’t realized her pants were closed and were all bunched up at the edge of her underwear’s waistline. Didn’t matter really. She really soaked her pants this time. She’d never squirted twice in one day before. That was new.

Then Tammy fell asleep.

The next morning, Tammy woke up to find she’d pissed her pants again in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if she wasn’t right in the middle of the trailer park. There was some tingling in her crotch. She wondered what that was from. She couldn’t remember nearly anything from the night before.

She groaned as she sat up. Horrible hangover as usual. Maybe Greg would bum her a couple cigarettes and some coffee today. No, she remembered. It was Monday. He’d be at work already.

She would’ve tried to figure out what the hell was crawling around in her pants, but when she looked around she saw two men in suits walking by. They looked official.

“There’s a single, full-sized woman here,” the one man said into his watch. His partner snickered at ‘full-sized.’ Tammy was too intrigued by them to frown. “No signs of an S-Pulse. We might have miscalculated.”

“Let’s keep looking,” his partner said. “And maybe she’s seen something.” He walked toward Tammy, while his partner headed further into the park. He didn’t bother to hide their disgust at the smell of urine and more than an average day’s worth of sweat. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Have you seen anything out of the ordinary going on around here?”

The woman scratched her crotch ferociously. “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m just itchy there for some reason.” Then she thought. “Um… Not that I know of. No.”

“You didn’t see anything strange yesterday?”

She laughed. “I don’t remember half of yesterday, mister.” She scratched her crotch even more rigorously. Whatever was in there was really trying to get her attention. “Sorry I’m such a mess,” she said. “I got a little extra drunk for Easter. It was my birthday and everything.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

She thought. “Well, it’s a little quieter’n usual. But I figure maybe everybody’s either at work or sleeping. We know how to party on holidays out here.” She laughed.

The man looked frustrated. “I’m sure you do.”

“Hey, John,” the agent who’d traveled further into the park said. “Come check this out. I think I found some out by this mailbox.”

Tammy stood up and started to follow them. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” John said. “I have to ask you to return to your home.”

“Well, it’s over where you’re headed, anyways,” she said, waddling slower than usual, trying to rubberneck. She peeked over his shoulder. Was that guy putting a bug in that Ziploc? Who cared about some damn bugs?

She knew she was stinking and wet, so if she had to stay in her trailer while the men mulled around, she had to sit out front. Didn’t want to make her bed wet for the fifth time this month. And if she was sitting out front, she might as well have a drink. She grabbed more than a couple spare beers and brought them back with her. If nobody was around to offer her cigarettes, the next best cure for a hangover was more booze. Besides, she wanted to get the leftover beers before any of the other people got to them.

She sat down in her chair and cracked her first of the day open. The squirming in her pants was persisting. Did she have crabs or something? Nah, that would’ve meant she had to get laid, and nobody out here was interested. Lord knows, she’d tried plenty.

Whatever it was, it was real itchy. She unbuttoned her pants and reached down. She felt something down there, but she couldn’t exactly say what. It felt slimy and small. She wiped her hand off on her inner thigh and pulled it back out. There was no use in grossing herself out with the gory details until she was allowed to go to showers on the other edge of camp. Tammy was the type that would rather not know. And while she was stuck here, she had to pee again. She was already dirty, and the men probably wouldn’t let her walk past to get to the bathroom. Besides, it was laundry day. Greg would be bringing her to the laundromat in his truck later. So what the hell. She made like an astronaut and peed.

Three beers wasn’t enough to even get her buzzed. When the men in the suits returned to speak with her, she was doing what she always did: sitting in her chair, reading old copies of tabloids.

“Did you fellas find what you were looking for?” she asked them.

“We found some of it, yes,” one of them said. He handed her a card with a phone number on it. “If you see anything out of the ordinary, give us a ring.”

“Oh,” she said, “I don’t have a phone. Ain’t no signal out here on any of the networks I can afford. You have an address? I can send you mail.”

The man frowned. “We don’t. But feel free to ask a neighbor to borrow theirs.”

“Sure thing,” she said. “Everyone round here’s real friendly. Nobody out here would hurt a fly, except maybe that Trinity. I mean, there’re only two working phones out here, but I’m sure I can borrow one if it comes to it. I can’t drive or nothing, so it’s not like I can walk all them miles to the post office anyways.” She laughed. Then, from nowhere, a moan escape her. She slammed her thighs together abruptly.

“Are you alright ma’am?” one of the men asked her, confused.

She seemed flustered. “Yeah,” she muttered, embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s up with me today. Maybe it’s just you two are so dang handsome.” She winked, trying to save face.

They didn’t bother to look disgusted. “You have a nice day ma’am.”

“You too,” she said.

Once they were out of sight, Tammy sat back in her chair, disappointed. She sighed, opened another beer, and wished something interesting would happen to her. She’d have a few more drinks before she made the walk of shame to the shower. It would make it more bearable to have everyone see her covered in piss.

At least the tingling in her pants had stopped.