Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of SharpieQuill. SharpieQuill is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  This story and everything within is fantasy and not based on living or past persons.

 Author Notes:

This story contains extreme sexual depictions and humiliation/domination.  If not your kettle of tea, I understand.

For those who are easily bored, like myself, skip to chapters 5 and 8-end.

        Even before he glimpsed the world, he smelt it.  Salt and iodine, with a hint of green.  Then, as the destination neared, the occasional cawing and the habitual advancing, receding, of something frothy.  These experiences taunted Adnah, locked in his dark prison, now just 6 inches tall.  The sun had finished its unknown pilgrimage and its commencing rays pierced gently through the large key hole.  He placed his proportionally minute hands in the light.  His black skin had become noticeably paler through his bondage.  Primarily his duties were indoors, servicing the two giantesses who dominated him, his mother Sauda and his wife, Nia.

        His thoughts were all he had for company during the long journey they had undertaken.  Sauda, with her foreman Jelani, were traveling for business.  He had overheard of the trade deal between their village and some distant port city while massaging Nia.  Money was to be paid, bribes secured and given, and small intrigue instigated to procure a caravan route through their region.  He paid scant attention to any of the details, as pleasuring the specifics of Nia’s body were more relevant to his physical wellbeing.  Now their caravan was arriving at their inn.

        His storage chest, amongst others, was lugged inside, up the stairs by the accompanying servants.  His chest was dropped, thudding into some other wooden object, launching Adnah into the front of the lid before he crashed back onto the clothing also stored inside.  His daydreaming ceased, and he stood up.  Through painful familiarity he knew to be ready to serve.  Sure enough, the light disappeared as the skeleton key was inserted, metal reverberated as the right mechanisms were torqued.  The key was removed, and a softer metallic clink of the latch being undone was heard.

        Light flooded with the quick opening of the lid, a huge masculine hand grabbed him by the waist and tossed him effortlessly through the air.  His eyes glimpsed colors and blurs as they failed to adjust fast enough.  Adnah hit foundation softly and tumbled several feet on a soft fabric.  Dizzily, the small man stood up, rubbing his eyes.  He had been thrown onto the only bed in this small room.  The room had a table, chair, bed, and the chest that had contained him.  There were two doors, one leading to what looked like a hallway, and the other leading to a larger, far more opulent and adorned abode.  His mother walked out from that door.

        She looked at Adnah and commanded, “Sit.”

        He fell to his ass; his mother’s face wore a scowl.  Sauda looked at Jelani who was rummaging through the chest.  His hand shot out holding a thick bulging purse.

        “Here it is.”

        “Good,” she said, walking over to the bedside, “You will take that to the merchant guild, if anyone asks, it is for dues owed.  No matter what you are asked, it is for dues owed.”

        Jelani nodded and for the first time looked through the door into her room.  The scarcity of his situation contrasted sharply to the abundance of hers.  His eyes agape, he turned to say something.  Sauda narrowed her own eyes in response, her gaze being far more menacing.  Jelani smiled in submission, his hands raised as if it were vital that she see his palms.

        Sauda smiled and looked at her toy son, “Mommy is going to conduct a very important deal, and tonight you are going to service her, and a few of her merchant friends.  No matter what, you will indulge us without fail and without tiring.”

        Her stern eyes softened.  She patted the quivering creature.

        “If you do well, maybe I will not wear you on the way home.”

        She turned and walked through the door, stopping as her eyes widened.  She looked back reproachfully.

        “Jelani, be quick with the payment.  Also do not make use of Adnah, he will need his full strength for tonight.”

        Jelani sneered when she was out of sight.  He looked once more into her luxurious chamber, and at his own meagre room.  He cursed and went over to Adnah.  He raised his hand to slap him but held back.  He cursed and pounded the bed as a substitute.  Adnah ran to the foot of the bed, leering over at the almost 4 story drop.  He prayed he didn’t need to risk it.

        “Is everything satisfactory, sir?” a small portly man interrupted from the doorway.

        Jelani looked at him darkly.  The shorter man cleared his throat before speaking again.

        “I am the manager, the lady left before I could speak with her.  Is there nothing that you require?”

        Jelani began to utter something rude when a thought crossed his mind, “I will need food; meat and alcohol.  And the best whore you have to offer.”

        The manager looked at him disbelievingly, but the weight of the two silver coins in his pocket reminded him that it was best to err on the side of caution.

        “Of course, we will have your foodstuffs delivered within the hour, the…  Woman, you requested may take longer to procure.”

        “Can you retrieve her before the afternoon?”

        “That can be done.”

        “Then be on with it.”

        The manager bowed, leaving Adnah and Jelani to wait.

        Jelani sat, flush and satiated.  After the meal was delivered, Jelani had Adnah serve him.  Every glass of wine guzzled, poured by Adnah, every slice of meat inhaled by that sneering mouth, cut by Adnah, and every scrap that fell, licked off the floor by Adnah.  Jelani had particularly enjoyed watching Adnah use the giant’s own dagger to cut the meat, having to hold the handle in his arms and use his body to move the weighty object in a sawing motion.  The titan now sat digesting, waiting impatiently while Adnah sat despondently on the floor. 

        Their respite was cut short by a loud knock on the door.

        Adnah stared, it was hard not to.  The deep auburn terra cotta was marked by hundreds of decorative round protrusions.  They were raised from the surface and appeared as beads on the female icon.  They adorned the back and also the sides of the abdomen and seemed to travel further down to the hips.  They were crafted with great care, clearly done with the intention of mimicking a blazing fire.  The markings peaked in curvy, wispier, points, and nadired to broader bases.  The strangely beautiful statue turned its gaze and smiled generously at him.

        The body was lean, yet the swollen grapefruit breasts and supple ass indicated its flourishing femininity.  Her complexion was exotic to the surrounding regions, her decorative markings unfamiliar.  The shimmering, short hair she possessed was braided, with the portion from her ears forward styled into three interlocking braids, with the back half falling backwards in smaller braids, ending in oblong lapis lazuli stones forming an ever-undulating curtain when she moved.  Her forehead sloped gently back, while her lower face jutted out, naturally giving her face a pouty look from the side if it were not for her upturned lips.  Full and thick, just slightly darker than her face, they bulged out somehow further into an ingratiating expression. 

        Her eyes sparkled with an alluring vivacity, exuding a strange mischievous intention.  She was clothed in a blue kanga for her waist, and a matching sash that concealed little of her breasts.  Only when he saw the thick iron collar and leather cuffs around her ankles were his eyes able to break from her gaze.  She was escorted by the squat manager of the hotel.

         “Will she do?” the manager asked.

        “Yes, yes she will!”

        “Sir Jelani, the charges will be added to your account, is that acceptable?”

        “Yes, yes, just hand her over and leave.”

        He sighed, “It is not that simple.”

        The man pointed to her metal collar and ankle restraints.

        “Yeah, so what?”

        The manager sighed deeply scrunching his face.  He beckoned Jelani to move aside and entered the room.  He pushed the beautiful creature towards the one bed.  She acquiesced without altering expression.  She sat down nonchalantly, wearing a pleasant demeanor.  The short man attached thick chains to the loops on her sturdy rawhide anklets, locking them to the thick hardwood foot of the bed.  He then attached the chain from the neck collar to the head board, tugging the portion attached to the bed with force to verify it was truly fixed in place.

        He turned to the patron, “Under No Circumstances are you to release her. Not even one restraint.”

        “Sure, sure,” Jelani already had one hand tugging on his loincloth, “We are good now, go.”

        “Also, when you have finished, do not fall asleep next to her.”

        “Why, will she strangle me with those fearsome claws of hers?” he joked, gesturing towards her soft extremities.

        “Once you’re satisfied, get away from her.  She will satisfy like no other, but I have yet to meet the man who can satisfy her.”

        “What do I care if a slave is satisfied?” Jelani sneered.

        “When you can no longer perform, fall to the floor if you must, just do not stay near her.”

        “Will she bite, or scratch?” Jelani’s lust waned thinking of the potential damage to his manhood.

        The shackled woman’s smile broadened as she opened her legs suggestively.  Jelani took a lustful step towards her.

        “No, but she will continue to pleasure you even if you stop.”

        The manager eyed her angrily.  He tested the ankle ties’ fastness.

        “What?  That is the opposite of a problem!”

        The manager looked uncertainly from Jelani to the girl, and sadly shook his head.

        “Trust me, when you are done, get away from her.  Should you fail to heed my advice, you alone will bear the consequences.”

        “Fine, fine, go!” his shaft again waxing, the occupant refused to be further denied.

        With one last grim look before departing, the manager softly closed the heavy door behind him.

        Jelani’s loincloth was thrown as his lust overcame him.  The woman smiled sweetly at him, then looked again at the tiny man.  Her head tilted in curiosity.

        Jelani turned to see what was so interesting.  There was only the miniscule man.

        “Ha, ha!  That’s my mistress’ son,” he walked over to him, patting his head condescendingly, “Think of him like a girl who only knows how to use her mouth, that is the only use he has.”

        “Unlike you,” he said, pivoting back to her.

        She smirked softly, delicately gyrating her shoulders.  His member stood erect before he reached her.  His paws outstretched, poised to grab and ravage the enticing woman before him.  Just as those greedy hands touched her shoulders, the door flung open.  Jelani and the slave turned in unison to the intruder in the doorway.  It was one of the servant boys, his face flush.

        “Damnit boy, go away!” Jelani furiously screamed, shifting back to the hazel beauty.

        “The mistress sent me!”

        He froze, his hands grasping the girl’s shoulders, their faces angled in opposite directions, lips brushing.  He blinked, before pulling back, fear in his eyes.

        “What does she want?” he questioned, searching for his loincloth.

        The soft hands alighted on his shoulders, trying to allure him back.  He paused, in anguish, they were so gentle, so warm… He shook them off roughly, contrasting the pleasure with the very real threat he faced.

        “She has finished negotiations with the leader of the merchants’ guild and is wondering why you have yet to pay the required dues.”

        “Fuck!” he shouted, still looking for his clothing.

        “I thought she would be haggling until the evening!” he mumbled, knocking down Adnah in his desperate search.

        He located it in a corner.  Quickly pinning it around his waist, he swiftly began rummaging through the chest at the foot of the bed.  He pulled out the purse, still weighted amply with coins.  He got up and jogged to the door.

        “Sir, what of them?”

        Jelani stopped, he looked back at the two.  The woman was fastened tightly to the bed, but Adnah was free to move around, potentially free to run away.  He strode over to the little man and lifted him effortlessly by the waist.  He tossed him into the still open chest.

        “I doubt you would be stupid enough to run, but pets are not known for their intelligence.”

        He slammed the lid and latched it into place.  He looked around for the key, the servant boy nervously tapping his foot.

        “Gah!” he gave up, hurrying to the exit. 

        He closed the guest room door and together with the lad ran out of the hotel, knowing full well his speed would determine the severity of his punishment.

        Adnah lay in the darkness. Unmoving, unfeeling.  It had been 8 months since the rite that had left his size permanently at his mother’s whims.  Being used by her, Jelani, and his corpulent wife had become the only life he knew.  He exhaled in relief, being locked away alone was the only respite from his duties.  He looked up at the light streaming through the chest’s lock, but knew resistance was foolish.  The lid was too heavy for him at his size, even it wasn’t latched.  And should he escape, where could he flee to?  He, Sauda, and Jelani were in a foreign town, the best he could hope for would be to escape to some slum to eke out another version of torment and humiliation.

        He closed his eyes embracing reveries of his previous existence, of being an actual sized man.  Of having some significance.  This recurrent theme he dreamed when alone, giving him temporary sanctuary from reality.  Now though, there was a new visage, that hazel beauty.  He thought of her exquisite looks, and those starry eyes.  The gentle smile of an interested girl was something he had not known since that day.  Adnah wept silently, thinking of the female icon he could never entice, much less hope to possess.

        His self-pity was interrupted by a well-known metallic sound, the latch being undone.  He opened his eyes and watched as the lid was arduously lifted.  After adjusting to the light he glimpsed the two delicate hands that had performed what to him was a Herculean feat.  One of the hands descended into the box, its fingernails painted a deep blackened blue.  Female eyes peered over the lid, entreatingly.

        “May I speak with you, Little One?” she requested.

        He moved away from the thin hand, his back against the wooden trunk’s front.  The hands neither moved nor threatened.  Their chains were visibly stretched to the max.  The limb withdrew back, allowing the little man more space.  The eyes radiated kindness and a girl’s playfulness.

        “I will not force you.  As you can see, even had I the desire it is not within my power,” her immense hand lightly beckoned, “You have the choice to speak with me on my level or you may continue in your container.”

        He lay unmoving, gasping unexpectedly.  Her words had so confounded him that he hadn’t been breathing.  He remained still, paralyzed with fear while she waited patiently.

        “Please,” she implored, “Our situations are not so dissimilar.”

        Thinking of her shackles, he yielded.  Getting up to his feet, he gingerly stepped onto her hand.  Slowly, it ascended and went around the lid of the wooden chest and he came face to face with her.  Her countenance was markedly cordial, her skin far browner than Adnah’s own.  Even her palm was darker brown than his naked body.  She studied him from head to toe.  Abashed, he lowered his gaze, again noticing the innumerable round swellings on her lower torso.  Her elaborate survey focused back on his face, noticing where his attention lay.

        “Do you like them?  Those are my markings, of my faith.”

        “Markings?  What could have done that to you?”

        “Each one was made by hooking the skin with a thorn, then cutting it with a knife,” with her free hand she mimicked the motion of a thorn piercing, then a knife slicing.

        Adnah winced.

        “It hurt for a time, but that was as important as the markings themselves.  It was a sacramental rite.”

        “Why?” He asked, wincing upon hearing the word rite.

        “It symbolizes my devotion to the goddess Fire.”

        “You mean the goddess Oya?”

        She laughed, “No, Fire, the goddess.”

        She softly grabbed his arm and guided it to one of the elevated notches.

        “Fire is an element, not a being” he mumbled, lost in the warmth of this small gnarl of skin.

        “No, Little One, Fire is alive, have you never watched Her move, dancing as She feeds?”

        The look on her face, the tone of her voice, the feel of her skin.  His senses burdened to excess.

        “A, And how do you know it is a goddess and not a god?” he stammered distinctly feeling the contours of her fingerprints gently touching his cheeks.

        “Like a woman, Fire gives birth to more of its race, just one spark can create countless more.  Like a female she hungers endlessly,” the finger lowered between his legs, rubbing the now emerging bulge with her fingernail, “Greedily consuming whatever lies before her, be it power, wealth, or men.”

        The fingernail’s subtle rubbing coaxed the swelling further before brusquely abandoning its task and retreating to its master’s lips.  Shaken with disappointment, Adnah’s fog of mind cleared, to an extent.

        “Maybe it does behave like a living creature but it moves without intellect or reason.” he rationalized, looking towards her face, watching her lick her thumb and pointer.

        “What are we to understand, or even question, the nature of a goddess?” She gently tutored, reaching the two fingers towards the center of his hips, “Especially when there are more pressing questions, like my name.”

        “What is your name?” He asked as the fingers hovered before his midsection, a hair’s breadth away.

         “Bititi.”

        “Do you wish to know my name?” His eyes glued to her fingers.

        “No,” she said with certainty, closing the distance.

        She gripped his half erect manhood, her two fingers slowly rubbing.  Adnah yelped in surprise, her grasp was firm, but not crushing.  The touch was gentle enough not to pull his dick off, yet the friction enough to stimulate it.   The rubbing generated heat imperceptible to the giant, but erotic to her little man.

        He reached out and held onto to her pointer finger, using the leverage gained to thrust.  His eyes clamped tight, he imagined himself before the rite, himself with a woman equal in size.  The fingers were thin and silky, when he touched them it was like touching a woman.  His exertions, his strength affirmed, not negated or overwhelmed as with every other encounter with a giant.

        His imagination coupled with the sensual reality, he threw himself into the task.  Faster, faster, faster.  He thought back to what virility meant, recalling the gasps of his partners, their satisfaction equal to his.  His fingers dug into his partner.  His pelvis fiercely crashing against her two digits.  He climaxed, further moistening his two assistants.  He collapsed forward, heaving with long forgotten satisfaction.

        Bititi smiled, her carnal instruments still gently clasping the ant sized shaft.  She watched, aroused, at both her work, and Adnah’s tiny efforts.  She felt his quick, pounding heartbeat against her fingernail.  She licked her lips and fought the twitching between her thighs.  All good things in their proper time. 

        After a minute he pushed against the fleshy column to help stand himself.  She released as he looked up in gratitude.  Her pointer lifted vertically up until it threated to fall forward flattening him.  It stood tall, wagging left to right repeatedly.

        “Oh no, you are not finished, not even close,” she promised.

        Bititi’s pointer finger followed its sisters as they collectively rolled to the right and drove forward.  The fingers curled behind him as the arch from her thumb to pointer nudged him.  He fell backwards onto them, now forming an upright recliner.  Cautiously secured, he was lifted before those heavenly eyes.  They peered into his own, instead of through the little man.

        “If you thought that was bliss, you have never truly felt a woman.”

        The giantess’ hand lowered, the thumb fell back, curved, and fell behind Adnah as her fingers pushed his midsection towards those full lips.  He cried out when they stopped, the heat of her breath titillating him.  They parted slowly, her tongue slithered out over the lower one, flowed down, then arched upwards between his legs.  It lapped lightly, at his thighs, then his abs.  He moaned and flailed as it teased him, inch in by inch electrifying where it touched, just never where he most desired.  It deftly neared his erogenous zone, only to dart somewhere adjacent just before striking again.  He began to buck, trying to succeed where it wouldn’t.  The fingertips clasped inwards to prevent their participant from accidentally falling.

        The playful denial of gratification continued, her tongue always nearing infinitesimally closer, only to bolt somewhere unexpected, before repeating its hot, humid advance.  Only when his throes became greater than the skillfully measured pressure of his cradle did the moist muscle finally probe his sex.  It licked gently, once, then fulfilled him as it thrust into his member.  It rubbed thoroughly, turning every so often, creating a hitherto unknown carnal experience.  He groaned and humped, feeling another eruption imminent.  His body was brought forward, following the tongue as it receded back to its steamy cavern.  The pointed tip never left his member as he was forcefully pushed against the vermillion of the entrance. 

        Insane lust overtook him, his thrusts matching the controlled oscillations pressuring his body from behind.  He lunged his hips forward with all his might, shuddering with the feeling of the lips trembling in satisfaction as well.  The mouth and tongue began to suck at him, pulling his dick further in, resulting in the inevitable release.  A deep moan escaped his lips just as a warm pant blew from hers.  He yelled in mighty triumph as he came for a second time.  Time expanded, what was only a few seconds of climax seemed minutes to Adnah.  His sweaty body collapsed forwards onto the full luscious lips, breathing heavily.  The hand pulled him away while whilst the mouth drew in his fluids and swallowed.

        He looked up at this Nubian statue, who still contentedly smiled, as she gently laid him between her thighs.  He eventually managed to normalize his breathing.  Sitting up, she pointed to the iron collar on her neck.

        “I was of no small service to you, so might you provide one small service for me?”

        “What do you want me to do?” He asked.

        “I need you to use your tiny hands to pick the lock.”

        “I am insufficient, it is not possible.”

        He looked down in shame, a finger half his length touched underneath his chin.  She lifted his head to face her.  The smile and eyes were soft, filled with sympathy.

        “Please, might you just try?  For me?” the voice pleaded forlornly, stirring what little of his masculinity had not been stripped from him.

        He slowly nodded.  The charming eyes shimmered, gracing him with a look of delight.  She turned and lay face down on the bed, careful when positioning her legs so as not to crush Adnah.  Her arms at her sides, he stepped onto her finger and made his way up her arm to her shoulder.   He walked onto her upper back and examined the keyhole of the lock.

        It was located on a larger, more solid, portion of the lock.  The keyhole consisted of two square pits.  He examined them for some time, reaching in and finding that he could reach the bottom without fully extending himself.  The bottom was designed so that only a portion of the center gave way, thus something the size of the voids couldn’t work the smaller, moveable, portion.  Far more ingenious was the void between the solid and moveable parts, working to negate the efforts of smaller utensils that tried to force the lock.

        Planting his feet into her skin, he applied his strength.  He felt the mechanism only slightly giving way.  He pushed harder, his arms buckling under the strain.  The device pushed back, toppling him.  Laying on his back, he berated himself for thinking he could be of actual value to anyone.

        “I cannot.  I am sorry,” he winced in shame, he wasn’t even a fraction of a man.

        He felt a gentle stroking on his chest and legs.  His eyes opened to glimpse her fingers cuddling him.

        “It will be alright, Little One.”

        The hand patted him as he lay there, wallowing.  Her fingertips traced the outlines of his abs, his strong calves, and then squeezed his biceps.

        “Mhhm, such muscles for your size,” she continued to touch and caress, “I know you could undo that lock, if only you put all your strength into it.  Your body is magnificent.”

        He sat up, staring at the lock, her words beginning to reinvigorate him.

        “Oh, yes.  Such a strong man, little in stature but not where it counts,” a seductive voice whispered.

        He fought to stand, her nimble fingers assisting him quickly to his feet.  They propelled him forward, somehow coercing him whilst he believed them to be reacting on his own impulses.  He stood before the square mouths, this time with a giantess’ hand at his back.  He braced his backside against the palm and placed his own into the keyholes.  

        Adnah began pressing against the mechanism.  The apparatus gave way farther this time, but slowly began to push back.  His struggles intensified, it moved farther in.  His arms began to quake, his strength could just almost overcome the instrument. 

        Without warning the palm pressed him forward, pain shot through his arms as the strain exponentially sharpened.   He yelled, now fighting to merely keep his arms straight.  He felt his joints and muscles screaming at him.  He tried to scream out Bititi’s name but could only manage incoherence as his joints cracked and groaned.  Somehow the iron mechanism gave way before his flesh and bone.  His cries of anguish were overshadowed by a loud clack, followed by the right side of her collar releasing from the square.

        She removed her hand from Adnah allowing him to fall back screaming in trauma while she removed the collar.  She laughed in triumph as it fell onto the bed.  Her tiny white knight lay in a fetal position, desperately clutching his arms.  She began to rise, until she felt the resistance from her ankles.  She exhaled sharply and reluctantly sank back down into her prone position.  Her hand returned to the shaking little man and resumed its previous caresses.

        “You did so well, little one,” her tone one of immeasurable gratitude, “Surely this is just the tip of your prowess?”

        Adnah, in time, stood, his arms, hands, and back still throbbing in agony.  The huge silky hand was more patient this time, petting him and gently prodding.  She felt the two small pressure points that were his feet on her back.  Bititi inhaled, then exhaled calmly before gingerly picking him up and getting back into her position sitting on the edge of the bed.

        She cupped her palm under the hand holding him and released, allowing him to sit freely in both.  He gazed again at that immense, bewitching, face.  Her eyes were wet, a small tear fell from one, marring the perfection.  Her nose sniffled.  The physical pain dissipated, only to be replaced by an emotional one.  The moment his eyes moistened, hers glinted unfamiliarly.

        “You have done so much for me, my little savior, but…” she trailed off, her eyes looking away in humiliation.

        “What?!  What is it?” he asked, jumping to his feet, his pain causing him to regret the hasty impulse.

        She looked back at him, another tear escaping her eye, “You have freed me from the iron collar, but the two leather shackles yet bind my feet.  There is no salvation for me.”

        He looked down, the two dark brown colonnades were each bound by leather.  She lowered him to the floor so he could observe the bindings.  He saw the leather wrapped snugly, a softer material fixed between her skin and the thick rawhide.  There were two locks, locking each leather while also connecting to the thick chains.

        He walked over to one, and with both hands swiveled it to examine the keyhole.  This one’s mechanism was designed for a twist key.  He reached his hand in and felt that he would have to push left, and upwards.  This required far more torque than his strength or any change in his positioning could possibly generate.  The silky female hand braced against his back again.

        “When you are primed, let me know and I will try to assist you,” she said in a weak voice, almost as if her strength as a giantess was inferior to his.

        He felt the hand tremble in anticipation, before steeling, ready to ram his arm into the metal.  He shivered, while her strength was equal to the task, his flesh’s durability was not.   He foresaw her hand pushing on him with all its might, causing his limbs to snap in a futile attempt at this device.

        Pushing back and taking his arm out quickly he yelled to her, “This lock is different, even with you aiding me I cannot open it.”

        Her pouty, sullen eyes hardened angrily for a fraction of a second before resuming their pitiful state.  They looked at his own, somehow seeming to question his resolve.  They darted away from the tiny Adnah, searching for something unknown to him.  They paused upon glancing at the table.  One mighty hand descended, clutched him, and brought him back before the auburn womanly mask.

        “If only there was something to sever my bonds,” her eyes beckoned his to the table, to the knife still sticking out from the beef.

        “Jelani’s knife…” he trailed, his mind slowing, trying to warn of him of something.

        “Yes!  That might just work,” she smiled at him graciously, the eyes now radiating hope, “If you could just bring me the knife…”

        He gauged the distance from the floor to the table, to him it was five or six stories tall, the legs located inwards from the edges, climbing was not an option.  The chair was situated just out of range.  He pondered, looking around for anything that he could use.

        He didn’t hear Bititi’s brows furl or her impatient exhalation. The hand rotated him so that he was facing the Nubian façade.

        “My small hero, if you were willing to be brave, I believe that I could help you reach the knife,” she paused, letting the words sink in, “I could throw you the short distance, then you could push the knife from the table.”

        His mind raced, the distance was not so short.  He looked at those bright oculi, now pleading.

        “Throw me…?” he began.

        “Thank you!” she exclaimed, cupping him in her fist firmly and standing up before he could continue.

        She leaned as far forward as the chains would allow.  Her arm withdrew back in a curve, began its expedited fall, and she released, tossing him into the air.  He gasped as he began his arc, his body twisting and flailing beyond his control.  Reaching the zenith, he felt his ascent slowly halt, only to scream as his descent accelerated him towards the table.  

        His body hit the remaining mound of beef, cushioning the initial landing but his inertia caused him to bounce.  He landed for a second time, his right shoulder banging onto the wood.  His body rolled twice before laying splayed out.  The pain in his shoulder reminded his senses of his previous suffering.  He groaned.  He crumpled up, holding himself.  He lay there, focusing on his breathing, the only thing within his control.

        Eventually he collected himself and stood.  He looked at the knife, he felt a strange disappointment when it failed to gleam.  His view of Bititi was blocked by the large slab of meat.  He felt frightened of her possible gaze and instinctively crouched down.  This was the first time since she had opened his chest that his mental faculties weren’t clouded. 

        What was he doing?  Or even why?  He thought of the colossal beauty, of her shackles and pitiable condition.  He felt sympathy for someone who was also considered property, someone who was also only partially human.  But even if he succeeded, his life would not change, why even bother?  The pain reminded him of the costs he’d already been forced to bear.  He thought of the pleasure she had provided him, but even Nia and Sauda sometimes inadvertently pleasured him.  He continued thinking for some time before resolving to finish the deed.  There was no noble nor chivalrous reasoning behind his choice.  Merely that it seemed as practical to finish as to give up.

        “Little One?  Are you alright?” Her voice wavered.

        “Yes,” he shouted, his head now appearing from behind the knife.

        She smiled, clasping her hands together eagerly.  She opened her mouth but stopped.  Instead her lips closed and raised into a suggestive smile.  Adnah unconsciously swallowed, he blinked twice and fixated his attention to the mission.  The dagger lay before him, both longer and wider than his body.

        He grabbed the white ivory handle and slowly dragged the knife to the end of the table opposite the goddess.  He pushed perpendicularly against the handle, rotating the instrument until the sharp point faced the edge.  He gripped the blunt base of the handle.  Grunting, he heaved against the bottom, gradually moving the knife over the boundary.  He felt the blade end’s mass begin to tip downwards.  He shoved once, forcefully, tipping the mass in a seesaw manner.  The blade sank past the periphery, its heft then worked with gravity to cause the back half to slide after the front.  There was a clattering as it landed and lightly bounced forwards. 

        He approached the cliff and saw that the blade was now only five feet from the giantess.  She smiled as she stooped over from her seated position.  Her feet stayed fast with the tension of the straps, but her hands landed on the floor.  Her arched back gradually flattened, her hands extending inch by inch.  She grabbed the dagger and slid it to her feet.  She proceeded to walk back her hands, her back arching like a cat.  She grabbed the knife before sitting up.  She examined it, turning it hither and thither before bringing it down.

        She began slowly, probing the exact sharpness of the blade versus the leather’s immunity.  She carved, from the base up.  Slowly a line shaped gap formed.  She pressed firmly, but not excessively, all good things in time.  After a few minutes her patience was rewarded as her restraint came off, leaving her skin and the soft material beneath from scouring.  She chuckled hysterically in exultation.

        Regaining her composure, she repeated the procedure, composing herself more stoically as the second leather strap fell.  She removed the silky fabric and delicately rubbed the chafed part of her legs.  She moaned sensuously, her dark sparkling eyes immediately fixated on the tiny, suitably sized man before her.

        “All good things…” she whispered.

        She strolled, one hip at a time, towards the open door to Sauda’s room, carelessly snatching her champion from the table.  His stomach lurched with every sway of her hips.  He felt his arrival on the purple sheets before he realized that he had been tossed.  He looked at the lavish furnishings, engraved furniture, and innumerable luxuries.  The giantess tugged once on her sash and the kanga around her waist, both fell effortlessly.  Betiti's naked body contoured lusciously by her curves, and speckled intimately with the many round marks, her body awash in a blaze.

        She leaned over him, falling onto her hands.  He stared at the beautiful pillars, and the hungry face before him.  She crawled her legs one at a time onto the bed, towering over him like a feline.  She purred, growled, in her mood it was not easy to distinguish.  She grabbed him, her hand swift and rough.  This was not the gentle touch he had become accustomed to.  She leaned back on her haunches, fell thunderously onto her back, the ornamented stones adorning her braids tinkling softly upon impact with the thick pillow. 

        The doll man was stopped abruptly before her lips, a warm breath washed over him, exciting and terrifying him.  She inserted him into her mouth, the giant muscle within lapping at him furiously.  It circled his head, pausing to enjoy the details of his face.

        He went deeper in, the tongue greedily slurping his body.  Deeper still until he was almost to the back of her throat.  Her tongue stretched forward, licking his buttocks and again slowing upon the feeling of his tiny erect organ.  She thoroughly touched, moistened, what of his body she could fit into her incredible maw.  He gasped in pleasure, then shock as he was pulled out abruptly by his legs.  His body nearly scraping against her lower teeth, saved only by the angle and sharp bulge of her sensuous lips.

        “Well Little One, it is time for the hero’s tribute,” the hand moved him over her rounded breasts, over her innumerable brands, and finally above her hips. 

        Holding him by the torso, she held him between her thumb and middle finger.  Turning her hand slightly, he was smoothly rotated upside down.  She grasped him firmly again, his feet now held by her thumb, his legs and midsection in her fist, and his upper body dangling outside.  He saw his future in the jet black region between her legs.  It was oval shaped, freshly shaved.  The dark furrowed folds of her womanhood lying ready as he saw the gleam of liquid escaping.  The smell of sex mingled with a foreign perfume.  Held before her womanhood, her free hand reached down and parted the thick lips. 

        She propelled his head forward, vigorously rubbing it up and down just within her labial sheath, tantalizing her vagina.  The flow increased, and her sex soaked his head.  He tasted her truest femininity, it had the familiar metal taste, but was somewhat sweet and arousing even as the amounts of it threatened to choke him.  It was almost as if her body were only capable of enticing.

        Adnah sputtered and gasped, breathing where he could, though mostly only succeeding in drinking, inhaling, her sex aqueous.  He heard her soft moans as she pushed his head into the dark hole.  She continued her up and down motions, before circling his head just within her.  While not noticeable to her, the tiny man heard the squelching of her liquids as he was used to probe her hole.  She gasped, as she shoved his head fully in.  Her hips arched and greedily she roughly jammed the remainder of Adnah within her.  Adnah felt the slippery walls and the iron tight pressure holding his lower legs.  Her sex clasped him tight, completely enveloping him.  The walls embraced, folded to his bodily features, then released, before repeating with added pressure. 

        Adnah screamed, in acquainted terror and unaccustomed pleasure.  Wet, thick, superior woman threatened to crush him, but he wanted more.  The pain was intense, but his muscular body endured it, at least until she craved more.  Her inner walls tensed again, and the hand slid him out, fighting against the inner pressure.  Adnah breathed in deeply, before the hand’s grasp moved lower down, to allow him to penetrate farther.

        “S, Stay straight, keep your hands at your s, s, sides!” Bititi commanded, trying to contain her ecstasy.

        Adnah did as he was told.  She plunged him inside, betwixt her almighty, feminine thighs.  In one vicious motion, he breached her sable lips, returning to the dark pink and moist heat of her most innermost of places.  She rammed him in and out, quicker and quicker.  His body began to tire, her heat joining with the warmth of his friction.  The undulating, constricting intensified.  She was rearing her hips, trying to insert him deeper. 

        Adnah began to scream, this time in wretched terror.  The walls no longer receded to give him a small allowance of cum tinged air, only the taste of her secretions as her folds entered his mouth and nose.  He could feel when the pressure decreased, but his prison engulfed him, never separating from him.  He began to have difficulty knowing where his body ended, and her sex began.  Even amidst the smell, heat, sounds, and physical sensations, he still heard the primal scream, and braced himself as megatons of woman came crushing down all at once.

        Bititi orgasmed loudly, shouting vulgarities in a silk laden voice.  She trembled as her body still spasmed from the aftershocks.  She looked down at her sex and smiled before gazing at the ceiling.  Her little one could survive in there a few minutes more, most likely…

        “Oh, my Goddess, what a gift you have blessed me with,” she exclaimed, letting his muted struggles add to her tranquility.

End Notes:

*“Megatons of womanhood” was written in Willie’s story, Mexican Vacation (located in the old archive).  Loved the imagery created by his words.

        Adnah lay in his feminine prison, every so often regaining consciousness for brief periods, only to slowly sink back into darkness.  He felt the moist softness rubbing against him, and then the cool air on his legs.  Two vices gripped his legs, pulling him out, the heat of her replaced by the mere warmth of the room.  He was lifted, inverted, back over the familiar feminine territory.  His slow labored breaths were interrupted by a massive flow of warm air.

        Bititi exhaled slowly, using the warmest breath she had.  Her little man’s breathing ceased as she dangled him over her puffy lips.  She turned him, continuing the process until her liquids were dry, caked on her toy.  She smiled, he had been properly marked.  She sat up on the bed, placing him on the nightstand.  Opening his eyes with difficulty, Adnah began to rise, using his arms to first complete a sitting stance.

        Bititi’s hand moved to the nightstand.  She picked up a silver candelabrum, stocked with a pure white candle.  She fumbled around before finding the flint and striker.  She struck the two over the wick, lighting it on the first strike.  Even as dazed as he was, Adnah gasped.  Lighting a fire with a flint took several strikes, lighting the miniscule wick should’ve been near impossible.  His titaness smiled at his amazement. 

        “A gift from the Goddess, much like you.”

        She stared, mesmerized by the flame.  It stood tall, dancing slowly left, then right.  It grew taller, shrank, stood still, then danced anew.  While familiar, its dance was never the same.  Adnah gazed at the hips he had become intimate with, then upwards to the fire, squinting, trying to understand what she saw in the orange glow.

        “Thank you, through your efforts I am saved,” she said reverentially.

        “You are most welcome,” Adnah replied with effort.

        She blinked, startled.  She looked down at the tiny man, a scornful smile on her lips.

        “I was speaking to the Goddess, not you Little One,” she explained matter of factly.

        “B, but, I was the one who saved you,” he argued.

        “The Goddess used you to save me.  What you consider your actions, were in truth Her plans for me.”

        She chuckled at his perplexed expression.  Tired, beaten by her pussy as he was, he could still manage some physical exertion.  Standing shakily to his feet, he looked reproachfully into her eyes.  Bititi peered back into the incandescent flame.

        “This is my Goddess, she is very similar to your Goddess,” she said, patting her sex, “They are both ravenous and consume whatever they touch.  They both wax with emotion, grow ever more tumultuous from their passions, and from their inner depths bequeath new life.”

        She lowered the candelabrum back to the table and rose, her bronze skin glistening.  Adnah stood engrossed as she delved through his mother’s belongings, before dressing herself in one of Sauda’s crimson robes.  She looked at him, deftly using the robe to conceal and reveal her grinning face.  Still smirking, she rummaged more, searching for something specific.  She walked back over to the nightstand, long thin fabric strands in her hand.

        “Now, I shall make good our escape.”

        She took the cords and began tying them to his hands and feet.  With only the strength to stand, Adnah gave no resistance.  He watched disinterestedly, this was an old situation he was well acquainted with.  She tied a length of the cord around her voluptuous waist.

        Her eyes displayed that mischievous sparkle as she lifted Adnah by his ropes.  His wrists pulling the rest of his weight after them.  She brought the tiny man to a now common sight, her massive vulva, dripping in anticipation.  He stared at his former prison, hanging only feet from its warm embrace.  His captor adjusted his height until he was directly facing it.  She yoked the ropes fast before reaching from behind, between her legs, grabbing the cords attached to his ankles.

        She pulled the cords tight, positioning him onto, into, her lower lips, tying his leg bindings to the rear of the cord around her waist.  She took several tentative steps, observing and feeling how his bonds held him.  She cooed and rubbed his face into her womanhood.

        “Oooohh,” she moaned, her face glowed with a malevolent satisfaction, “As I faithfully serve my Goddess, so shall you yours.”

        She patted him once more for good measure before lowering her new mantle over her improvised thong.  Adnah’s vision was darkened, by turning his head he could observe the ground below and her columnous thighs clothed in dark red.  Even without facing her massive womanhood, he could not escape her taste, every step out of the door reverberating his body against it.

        He saw, felt, her descend the steps, pass one or two patrons, and exit unhindered through the entrance.  The sounds of people trading, animals, and that frothy sound assaulted his senses.  He turned his head back to the slit that now ruled him.  He almost cried, but this was not his first degradation, he would not be undone by this torment.  His thirst consumed him, her intimate smell still enticing and exotic.  He closed his eyes and pushed his head forward, burrowing deeper into the lips.  Her flow stopped along with her gait, pulled inward by the sudden clenching of her walls.  He knew what needed to be done.  He forcefully swirled his head, his tongue lapping at her. 

        Bititi stood, frozen in disbelief, all at once she felt her little man push into her.  She clenched tight at his actions, the feeling sublime.  She waited for him to pull back or her sex to unclench but instead, she felt a gentle circling and the small tongue inside of her labia.  Ecstasy instantly took over, she moaned.  Regaining her power of motion, she ducked into an abandoned alley.  He was moving faster, rougher.  Bititi reached down and began rubbing him from toe to head into her pussy.  She repeated in unison with his own motions.

        Her juices spewed forth and he greedily lapped them up, slaking his thirst.  The sweet nectar gave him renewed strength, he slammed his head forward and, as much as he could, bucked his hips into her.  Her soft hand massaged him deeper in, her sex embracing him.  He was under her power, but through prior experiences, he knew he could still perform some manipulation.  He smiled as his constant twerks strained his neck, his hands and ankles being pulled almost out of their sockets.  Even if he broke, even if it were only for an instant, he would exert some control of his own over his exquisite captress.

        The strain on his body was becoming too much for Adnah.  He continued to jerk and thrash his head, but in slower, more fatigued motions.  His giantess’ self-gratification using his body was luckily enough for her to climax, her cum streaming onto him, Adnah relished in his victory only momentarily.  His joy was cut short by a massive hot blast of liquid into his face.  The pleasure was too much for the titaness to contain, causing her bladder to release.  The piss pushed Adnah’s head back, the stream grating like sandpaper on his cheeks.  The golden liquid that hit his face flowed down his supine body, drenching him in the acrid ammonia smell. 

        Bititi gasped, her cum and piss washing down her long, toned legs.  She leaned, her back against a wall, desperately trying to breathe.  It wasn’t the greatest sexual delight of her life, but it had been the most unexpected.  She had woken up to men about to have their way with her, but never had she been this surprised, this aroused.  She gaped down at her groin, vainly attempting to glimpse her toy through the fabric. 

        She smiled broadly, as she used the bottom inner lining of the garment to wipe away the foul liquids.  She kept massaging his limp body as she exited the alley.  While she had many plans for her tiny toy, she wondered what other unanticipated delights he might bring.

        For the rest of her walk Adnah noticed only his urine, cum soaked world.  He grunted, achingly as every step racked his limbs and pushed him into his goddess.  Time stretched for what felt like hours until he heard the female colossus haggling with a masculine voice.

        “…no, but I have other goods to trade.”

        “That is your problem not mine, coin, no trades.”

        “There are things far more valuable, especially on a long voyage,” the body leaned forward.

        “Hhmm, coin is more solid.”

        “Are these not?  And this thing of yours?”  Adnah turned to see a bulge against her robe.

        There was breathing, skin against skin.

        “…maybe…”

        “There is nothing worse than an indecisive man, perhaps you have other arrangements with your men?” the honeysuckle voice egged on her target.

        “You damn whore, I will…”

        She quieted him, “Shh, do not use your mouth to punish me, why not teach this woman a lesson below decks, once we are under way?”

        The moment stretched in silence.

        “Get on, you will have quarters, but I doubt you will find rest on this voyage,” the manly voice threatened in a gravely tone.

        Even in his dark position, he could hear her mischievous smile, “My door will always be open, though I doubt if you or your crew are man enough to actually fatigue me.”

        She followed the man up an inclined wooden board onto the vessel.  Adnah observed as they entered the ship, went down several sets of stairs, and then past many casks and crates, sometimes squeezing for passage.  The man’s footsteps echoed away as Bititi entered a small room.  He felt her turn once before hearing a slight wooden partition being moved.  Dim light illuminated the room as she threw off her robe. 

        Reaching down she undid the cords tying his legs, followed by those holding his arms.  His body remained stuck to her sex, the dried excretions holding him firm.  She laughed as she pulled him off, out, of her.  She held the tiny, sticky man before her luminous face.

        “You are absolutely filthy,” another, deeper laugh, “Perhaps if you had not performed your little trick you would not appear so pitiful.”

        He looked around at their abode, a small room with an old rickety dresser, empty used bowls, jugs, a worn, dirty mat for sleeping, and a freshly emptied chamber pot.  His eyes gaped and he futilely struggled against her hand as she lowered him over the latter.  He let out a raspy scream as he landed in the dank, smelly container.

        “You stay there for now, we can clean you later,” she said, walking around, inspecting her quarters.

        Adnah choked on the smell as he lay utterly exhausted.  He had no energy for any acts of defiance or self-determination, his raised head fell forward, his consciousness gone before it smacked the wet, putrid ground.

        Adnah woke upon impact.  He felt his body and face slam into something solid, then instantaneously liquid.  He sank for several moments before the shock wore off and he desperately paddled to the surface.  He wiped his eyes, seeing the small pool he was now in.  To him it was some 10 feet in diameter, enclosed by clay retaining walls.  Due to the dim lighting he couldn’t see beneath the dank water.  Looking up he saw the previous wooden room. 

        Behind him he heard a soft, “Ahem.”

        Turning, he saw what he expected.  She looked at him quaintly, their faces level.  They stared, Adnah expectantly, Bititi in baited satisfaction.  She let him swim for a while before bringing a grey cube before him, and dropping it in, splashing his face as it sank before buoying back in front of him.

        “Soap.  Be sure to clean yourself thoroughly,” she turned, tending to other matters, “Do a poor job and I will use a brush, very thoroughly.”

        He obliged, swimming to the soap.  With difficulty he managed to tear some off and began scrubbing his body.  When he was preparing for a second scrubbing, he heard the door open.  Swimming to the edge he observed as a large man entered, his broad back facing the cistern Adnah found himself in.  He went up to Bititi, she grabbed him roughly by his collar and fell back with him onto the mat.  The man’s coarse hands were all over her speckled body. 

        The miniscule man watched, powerless to intercede.  He stared as the large dark man hiked up his giantess’ kanga.  She displayed her eagerness by enthusiastically removing his pants.  The two kissed, Bititi expertly, her customer sloppily.  He moved a giant mitt down to his fully erect member, guided it to her pussy, and in one thrust penetrated deeply.  She moaned, her legs desperately folding around him, squeezing.  The thrusting continued for a few minutes more before the thundering climax. 

        Adnah watched as Bititi used her mouth to get him hard again, before riding the giant’s cock.  She was a woman possessed.  Whenever the man protested, or attempted to leave, she would whisper erotically to him, praise his manliness, or entice him with a touch.  This spectacle went on for half an hour before the colossus finally managed to stand and approach the door.  Blood lightly flowed from where Bititi’s fingernails tightly held onto the deathly pale man’s arm. 

        Her face was painted, accentuating her beauty, but her most alluring makeup was her licentious expression.  The giant shook, whether in want or fear of her Adnah could not tell.  The man somehow extracted his hand from her without further scarring, and proceeded to run down the hallway in terror, pantless.  The wanton look changed to one of annoyance and rejection.  Moving to Adnah it brightened, the sweet playful smile returning.

        She strode over to him, her hand submerging underneath him.  The open palm rose, straining the water while collecting her naked little man.  She walked the miniscule distance to her mat and set him next to the one candle on a copper plate.  She looked at him hungrily, then at the candle obeisantly.  Her eyes shown anew, brimming with emotions Adnah thought them incapable of.

        “After my dedication rite to the Goddess Fire, my body and mind changed.  The blessings are not inconsequential.  Fire is strong, unwavering.  In Her hearth victuals are prepared, weapons and tools forged,” stroking the feminine forge between her thighs, “My hearth provides the inedible sustenance men need, along with the ability to forge the inexperienced into warriors and men.”

        “But Fire’s strength is Her eternal weakness, She burns too bright, ever needing to consume in order to sustain Her radiance.  My womanhood is like that, without constant fuel, I feel my body beginning to lose itself, and the fire within threatens to escape the hearth, turning all to ash.”

        Welling with sadness she smiled down at her Little One.

        “What it does to my soul is the most unbearable.  Imagine that feeling, when you are denied climax with another.  What is the longest you have suffered?  A minute, five, ten?  An hour?  Now imagine that feeling, but for days, weeks, years…  That is my constant state of being.  After so long you may find solace in sleep or try to focus on something else, but for me only gratification can relieve me, and only for brief periods of time.”

        Adnah stared at his Goddess, tears defacing her makeup.  He knew not how to comfort her, his captress, tormentor, and yet, fellow sufferer.  Her countenance stiffened as she brushed away the tears.  The ubiquitous smile returned, but her eyes were disturbingly looking into a distance not possible in their tiny room, as some thought consumed the mind behind them.

        “But with you, you have managed to satiate me longer than most.  I can use you to complete what the others, those incompetents, cannot.  Maybe, if you are inside of me long enough, the Goddess can quench the constant yearning!”

        The thousand-yard stare focused its burning intensity onto the powerless man.  He had never before seen this level of obsession.

        “P, p, please stop!  You do not know what you are doing, you will slaughter me!” he stepped back, tripping on the dirty mattress’ sheet. 

        She grabbed him with her large, thin hands.  Her deep brown eyes now red, no, orange.  Flames licked in her pupils, tinting her irises that scorching orange.

        “No, no, do not fear, my little toy.  I understand.  I will not use you to that extent.  Using you up will waste what pleasure you can offer me, in time.  No, I will employ you gradually.  As water flows it slowly digs a river and given enough time will even wear down mountains.  So too shall you be used, until either my lusts are gradually appeased, or you are worn down to nothing.”

        Her trembling hands descended to her quivering vulva, their offering itself quaking, praying to any and all gods for salvation.

Chapter Notes:

 This section has anal, excrement scenes, skip if that's a dealbreaker.

        Adnah’s heart threatened to beat out through his ribcage as he neared Bititi’s hips.  She viciously rubbed him onto her sex, the giant’s cum drenching him completely.  He coughed as the speed and roughness caused him to swallow the liquid.  He tried to expel the man’s wretched tasting cum, but with every breath, gallons entered his mouth, lungs, and even esophagus.  He prayed for relief, and felt his prayers answered when he was pulled from her messy womanhood.  He frantically heaved in lungfulls of cum free air.  Then his heart stopped when he realized where her hand was taking him.

        He saw the massive, dark puckered orifice before him.  Tears filled his eyes, he prayed to be taken back to the first hell.  The hole dilated as his head was driven in.  The bubbly opening was not disagreeable, the feeling alien.  The smell that assaulted his nostrils was distasteful to an impossible degree.  Even when being abused by her sex, it had smelled exciting, now the smell was of wretched waste, concentrated.  Breathing was hard, and even though his lungs screamed he would hold his breath for as long as he could endure, eventually succumbing to the burning in his chest, gulping in massive amounts of the toxic air only to violently cough and hack it all back out.  The hand moved down his body, pushing more of him in. 

        The giantess’ eagerness caused her to thrust him in rougher and faster than she was used too.  Her throat tightened upon his initial penetration, the esophageal constriction slowly dissipating the further in he went.  She shrilly moaned, continuing to advance her toy, but slower now.  The sexual pleasure evaporated the majority of her frustrations.  There was no achingly infinite want or desire, only the indulgence.

        The bubbly opening gave way to smoother tissues.  The enormous smooth folds enveloping him felt comforting, large broad striations constricted around him with Herculean strength before releasing.   Beyond the odor, there was another difference he quickly discovered.  Whereas her pussy had been relatively straight, within her rectum were bends and turns.  His head hit one, only to be redirected at an angle.  Her efforts pressed him onwards, another bend.  Finally, she succeeded in pushing his feet in after him, cramming Adnah inside.  His body was contorted several times around the curves, his body lacking the rigidity to straighten the canal. Her rectum walls closed around him as she squeezed, his body wrapped by the python-like slimy muscles, his feet compressed in the bulbous beads of her sphincter.  His breathing ceased as the world shut tight upon him.

        His giantess, the world, shuddered as she clamped down firmly on her sexual suppository.  She felt him in there and her senses exploded, screaming that she needed to release her bowels.  She fought the urge, squeezing the tiny man, imagining him both as figurative and literal waste inside of her.  She released only to squeeze again, resulting in his feet escaping her sphincter ring.  She pushed them back in with her fingers, gasping.  She repeated the process again and again, reveling in the sensations, both the physiological need of release, and of Adnah’s frantic squirming.  She felt his head deep within, an arm pushing at another angle, his legs pulling, squelching, and his feet constantly titillating her sphincter.

        She squeezed her thighs and butt cheeks together, resisting for as long as she could.  Lurid thoughts of her dominance and his humiliation tipped the scale and she rushed over to the chamber pot.  She squatted over it and groaned as she pushed.

        He felt the waves.  They descended from the top of his labyrinthine world, a round squeezing that first pushed him downwards then engulfed him as it constricted in its downhill path, before depleting near the exit.  This wave of motion continued, the sensation from the polished walls unique.  Unfortunately, Adnah found no time to relish in the tremorous vibes as he continued his labored regimen of holding his breath, and then inhaling deeply of the hellish stench.  The waves continued, faster, stronger, as he felt his lower body begin to exude through the soft globules.  They tickled his legs and torso and clutched his head ardently just before he popped out from her and fell onto the ceramic ground.

        The giantess moaned in fulfillment as she expelled her Little One.  She looked between her legs to see his limp, messy body.  She felt the eroticism she experienced in the alleyway coupled with the intoxication of owning, utterly commanding, another being’s fate and couldn’t hold back her excitement.  She released a scream, along with her bladder…

        Adnah heard the splattering and rushing.  Meekly lifting his head, he watched as the yellow tide collided with him, washing him into the clay wall, before receding with him towards the center.  He lay on his back, floating as the briny water continued unabated.  He gulped in what air he could, the smell of her piss gradually replacing that of her rectum.  Tears rushed down his face as the waterfall cascaded on and on.

        Bititi exhaled in sweet relief.  She had relieved one load inside of her, only to have to relieve a torrent of another.  She looked down at the pathetic little man.  He looked so worn and beaten, just lying on his back as his prison flooded. 

        “No, that just will not do,” she thought.

        Using her hand, she squeezed her labia together, redirecting and pressurizing the stream right on top of him.  It spurted down, splattering the little man underneath the light amber surface.  She saw his lifeless body immediately kick, the arms furiously laboring to pull himself out of the cesspool he was submerged in.  She cackled as he came to the surface, coughing and spitting with every other breath.  She quickly put her hand over her mouth, carefully she adjusted her cackle to a chuckle. 

        As she continued to urinate on the little man she sardonically cautioned, “Everything out of a woman, must be delicate, and measured.”

        Her eyes sparkled malevolently as she realized she had another urge.  She watched her little man intently as she squeezed one final time. 

        Adnah struggle to keep afloat, the constant jet of her liquids always working against him.  He found a moment’s reprieve and respired without drinking the godawful liquid.  He heard her groan, a low, throaty sound.  He looked up, the stream was several feet away, still gushing.  He looked farther back to the sight of his former torment, dilating.  He screamed and swam as fast as he could as he saw the large, slick mass emerging.

End Notes:

@Johnsmith10992, hope this chapter delivered.

        “Ahh!” the speckled beauty exclaimed, her arms reaching high into the now sunlit room.

        She peered out the small hole that constituted a window, glassy blue sea beneath a blue horizon.

        “How unique from yesterday’s view…”

        She smiled, arching her chest out, then carefully stretching her legs.  She walked over to the chamber pot.  Floating on a large black island, his body soiled with excrement, was her toy.  His eyes stared blankly at her.

        She wafted her hand back and forth in front of her face, “You smell horrible!  Perhaps you should have arranged different accommodations for the night?”

        The little man didn’t react to her joke.  She rolled her eyes and lifted the waste pot over to the window.  She daintily picked up the little man by an arm, scrunching her face as she looked at him.  She flicked him into an adjacent, water filled container.  He sputtered and paddled to one of the edges, watching as a familiar cube of soap floated by.  Bititi lifted the clay bedpan and emptied its contents out the window.

        “Wash up now, you have duties to attend to.”

        She carried the chamber pot back to its original position.  She walked over to the pot serving as Adnah’s cistern, only to find him holding onto the lip of the vessel, still filthy.  His miniature eyes were dull, but Bititi saw the tiny spark of defiance in them.  Her smile didn’t change a bit, but her own eyes darkened.  She went to the bed and grabbed something before returning.

        The defiance in his eyes evaporated when he glimpsed what his master held.  He swam desperately towards the opposite end.  She easily plucked the cube of soap out of the water and lathered up the bristles on the massive brush.  She then waited until her prey had lifted himself over the clay lip and was preparing to jump before snatching him.  She lifted his struggling body closer before bringing the brush down.

        Adnah shrieked, the stiff, soapy bristles scraping his posterior.  He felt them scratching, digging into his skin with each stroke.  She was thorough, brushing him top to bottom then left to right.  Her one hand expertly manipulated his limbs so as not to miss any crevices.  Satisfied with her efforts, she flipped him around to begin on his front.  His eyes pleaded with hers, they responded with a sneer as the bristles descended.  He choked back a scream and sealed his eyes shut, the relentless giantess scrubbed his face in circular flourishes before the rest of his anterior.  His eyes and mouth both opened in excruciating agony as the brush scrubbed between his parted legs, very thoroughly.

        Adnah stood, now dry.  His pale black skin reddish hued, his hands still holding his scoured raw crotch.  The terra cotta skinned woman looked down at his immaculate state in pride. 

        “Perhaps from now on I should be in charge of your hygiene, what do you think?”

        The tiny man looked at her, a blank expression.  Bititi’s hands clenched.

        “I asked you a question,” she threatened.

        The tiny man trembled, he tried to sputter some answer, but failed to find his tongue.  Bititi growled.  She seized him, her arm like a whip.  Her free hand opened the middle dresser drawer and emerged with thin leather straps.  She put him in the drawer before tying his hands together in front of his chest.  She then tied his legs to one another in a similar fashion.  Foraging through the random items also in the drawer, her fingers brought forth a thick fishing hook.  Her eyes lit up when she thought of a novel idea.

        One finger frivolously flicked Adnah onto his back, then rolled him onto his stomach.  He felt the hook catch the cord holding his legs, then a fingernail hooked the leather holding his hands.  It stretched his bound hands in front of him, and then over his head, clasping the hook through that cord as well.  With his hands and feet suspended above him by the hook, Adnah’s naked body futilely dangled below.  He felt himself being lifted as the giantess walked to the other end of the room.

        Looking at her suspended pet, “You have become very acquainted with your goddess, but now I think it time you became familiar with mine.”

        Holding the hook by its shaft, she lifted her prisoner adjacent to the short, lit candle by her bed.  He felt the intense heat and watched the flickering in fear.  She brought him closer, the heat now painful.  She dipped her middle finger in the flame and let it sit there.  The fire danced around it, licking but never scorching the amber skin.

        “My Goddess rewards my devotion,” she removed the finger, putting in in her mouth and sensuously twirling it.

        Taking the finger out she patted Adnah’s head, wetting his hair.

        “You know, my body is a temple, every day I rigorously prepare it with cleaning and grooming,” she admired her own body, “In fact, my body has not a hair where I do not so desire it to be.

        Her arm appeared beside him, the silky-smooth skin in truth having not a single hair.  Her arm rolled, displaying the same perfection around its circumference. 

        “Let me demonstrate how the Goddess aids me in this,” she whispered propelling him towards the flame.

        She brought one of his arms closest to the wick, he yelled as the heat intensified, fearful that she would plunge his arm into the inferno.  She inched him slowly, mockingly forward.  He screamed as the hairs on his arm spontaneously singed, curling backwards into nothing.  He endured the small scolds of pain where the hairs originated.  The heat felt intense, like his body was being cooked, his arm slightly more thoroughly.  He felt as she maneuvered his body so that his arm was singed smooth.

        She brought him away from the flame to admire her work.  Adnah observed too, surprised to find his arm intact, only aching from the excessive heat and suffering some slight burns where his hair had been thicker.  She mumbled and nodded in approval.  She lifted him over her face, staring at the hairy mass between his legs.

        “Hmmm, you know I keep my special place well-trimmed for my partners, should you not return the favor?”

        That accursed smile widened, Adnah’s pitiful eyes screamed louder than his hoarse throat could manage.  She brought him back to the flame, inverting and tilting him so that his sex faced the fire.  He screamed as the heat on his thighs and genitals became unbearable.  He looked to his titaness for mercy, she answered by licking one massive finger. 

        Then he felt the blaze.  His pubic hair was burning, he felt the intense flame ravaging the thick matted hair.  The fire licked at his testicles, at his manhood.  He felt it obliterate the tangle that had been between his thighs, but felt the scorching continue.  He screamed until a giant, moistened finger mercifully pressed against his nethers, smothering the blaze with a wet sizzle.

        His giantess returned him to her eyes, peering intently into his as he wept.

        “Will you demonstrate to your goddess the respect she deserves?”

        “Yes!” he sobbed.

        “And you will answer her promptly.  No, eagerly.  Yes?”

        “Yes!”

        “Yes, what?”

        “Yes, Goddess…” he looked at her smugly satisfied face through his tears, the burns still radiating out with pain.

        “Perfect, hmmmm…” she wondered, looking at his partially singed body.

        She transferred him back to the flame.

        “No!  I will answer promptly, eagerly Goddess!” he pleaded as he felt the hairs on his other arm begin to singe, “Why!?”

        “Because,” she replied matter of factly, “I hate to leave something half done.”

        His hoarse screams, accented by the singeing, harmonized into a melody as the mammoth woman cheerfully went about her task

        Bititi sat staring at the candle’s flame, the ship rocking haphazardly.  As the wind howled louder, she stood and walked over to the hole that constituted her only view of the outside.  She looked out, the normal tranquil light blue sky replaced by dark, voluminous grey clouds, the azure sea dark and foreboding.

        A large wave struck the opposite side of the ship.  The floor tilted violently along with the vessel, crashing Bititi’s head into the wooden board above the window.  She cried in pain as the ship swung back, sending her crashing into the opposite wall.  She clenched her teeth as she tentatively stood.  She heard screams and shouts from above, echoing down the long corridor.  She walked over to the dresser and pulled open the top drawer.

        Adnah’s head was spinning from the violent lurching when he felt his prison being opened.  He stared up at the naked silhouette of his mistress in the dim room.  He watched as she smiled at him, softly, sweetly, longingly, sadly, mischievously.  Only she could express so much with just those lips.  Her eyes sparkled weakly, as though there were no tricks or fun for their owner.  She put her hand in the drawer and he carefully climbed upon it, the ship still rocking.  She walked over to her bed, placing him on the pillow and staring deeply at him.  His body was thinner, his muscles smaller.  A giant wave struck their side of the ship, sea water gushed in from the window.

        “Will the ship last?” Adnah asked, worriedly.

        “I believe not, she is too old and derelict to survive the battering.”

        “T, then a, are we abandoning ship?”

        Bititi laughed, “What would be the point?  If our ship cannot survive these mighty torrents, do you truly think a smaller vessel would?”

        Adnah gulped, another large spray of water and wind entered their room.  The giantess patted his head.

        “You have served me well, my Little One.  Even through my fits, you have always been there for me.  We, this ship, and everyone aboard are going to perish.  As such, your goddess will grant you something you have never been offered before, a choice.”

        Adnah stared apprehensively, he knew well what a “choice,” was.  Through all the women who had abused him, there was always the choice, Service me how I demand or compel me to contrive something far worse.  He braced himself before speaking.

        “What is my choice?” his tiny eyes shook in trepidation.

        That beautiful smile widened at his fear, “You may die however you see fit.”

        He looked at her, the trembling abated, before resuming in rage.  She giggled, looking at him pretending not to comprehend.  Her innocent expression causing him to forget his training.

        “I know what a manipulative b…” he stopped, thinking better of using that word, “Woman you are.  You say I have a decision, but you phrase it such that in reality there is only one choice, yours!”

        He looked up at her defiantly, before shrinking back.  Bititi’s gentle smile radiating compassion.

        “My words have turned many an ear, a mind, a soul, but consider this, even with all that I have done to you these last few months, how could you muster any spine to disagree with me?”

        He stopped, perplexed.  She wasn’t incorrect, with Sauda and Nia he learned only to obey, but with Bititi…  He looked up confused.  She reached down, stroking his body.

        “I have abused you for my own carnal delights, yes.  I have punished, tortured, you for disobedience.  I have taken from you whatsoever I so pleased, but I tried to leave your will intact.”

        The doubt is his eyes shown bright.  The hand erotically stroked his arms.

        “Oh yes, the first week I was rather callous with you,” the pupils rolled as though those abuses were trivial considerations, “But when I broke your arm, did I not stop to allow you to heal, and nurse you back to health?”

        Adnah nodded, feeling the fog in his mind thickening.  She nodded motherly, decidedly.

        Adnah remembered well the first week, the abuses, his screams, and her moans.  Then he reminisced of how much gentler she had come to use him, of how she began speaking to him like when they first encountered one another.  He looked at her as he always did in these occasions, confused and unbalanced.

        Her huge smile broadened, threatening to tear asunder those auburn cheeks.

        “I was gentler with you, because I understood your value to me, as a man.  You fulfilled my desires for so long, and if your body had been more durable, my hunger may have been fully satiated.  Now, sadly, we are nearing the end of our journey.”

        She looked at the unlit candle on the floor.  The violent shaking had thrown it down, breaking it into three pieces of wax, the black wick broken and extinguished.  She exhaled sadly.  The shaking was constant now, Adnah struggled just to remain on her pillow.  He looked up at her, his tormenter, abuser, yet, her smooth terra cotta skin somehow glistening even in the darkness.  Her round scars all around her body intricate and lovely, the flames they portrayed no longer burning wildly, but somehow withering, fighting to stay lit against the storm.  Adnah hated himself for doing it, but he broke the silence.

        “I may die as I see fit, so I could die by the storm or…?”

        Bititi looked at him kindly, rewarding him with that ingratiating smile.  Her stroking lowered to his legs, carefully contouring each thigh before expertly moving between them causing Adnah to gulp.  Her free hand descended between her own thighs, rubbing her womanhood.  The sadness in her eyes was replaced by the ever-consuming blaze that Adnah had grown accustomed to.  He looked at her, resignedly but still not convinced.  He foresaw the outcome but felt as though he had to resist, if only for a moment longer.

        “What better way to die?  As a virile man, pleasuring the most superb goddess any man has ever known?”

        He choked back tears as he heard timbers breaking somewhere in the lower bowels of the ship.  Bititi beckoned, but made no advances, it was truly his own choice.  It truly never was. 

        Adnah nodded gravely, his expression resolute.  The delicate hand enveloped him as she positioned herself onto her back.  He looked one last time at the beautiful features of his captress, those sparkling eyes, her perfect skin, alluring lips, and the loveliest feminine smile upon them.

        The two thick vermillion bulges parted, softly whispering, “You have always been more man to me than any other lover.  One more time, into the breach, my Little One.”

        Passing her sloping breasts, he gazed at the constellations of fire.  He smiled as the bumps of skin danced hither and thither with the rolling of the ship.  She brought him just above the sable oval, repositioning him carefully.  Adnah smiled as the giantess slowly breathed, mentally preparing.  He looked down at the altar his goddess had prepared for him.  He deliberately slowed his breathing, this was his last act as a man, and he felt he should not disappoint.  There was a moment of tension like a spring being pressured, and then the release as the sacrifice was plunged through the dark lips.  The loud squelch of his entry boomed louder than ever before.

        The planking surrounding the window exploded and seawater gushed in.  Bititi paid it no heed as her tiny man had just entered her.  She closed her eyes, ignoring the water that was quickly pooling.  She began leveraging her toy, trying to angle him up, down, and side to side before twisting his legs to rotate his body inside of her.  She moaned throatily.

        He felt his face hit her soft folds, her liquids copious enough to drown him.  He struggled to breathe as his head went forward, back, left, then right before the dizzying circling.  As his body whirled within her, the folds tightened, clamping down more and more, the friction and heat intensifying.  He felt her heartbeat, a soft reverberation audible even over the crushing walls.  He kicked his legs, knowing that would help to stimulate her.  He felt her push him as far in as she could, her fingers withdrawing.  He fought against her walls, bringing his legs up to his chest.  He wiggled as best he could, turning himself around.  He punched forwards with his hands, probing. 

        “Ahhhh!” She screamed, sensing her plaything’s efforts.

        Bititi twisted her body as she clamped down tighter on Adnah.  Even surrounded by the rapidly rising icy cold water, her body was still fiery hot.  She ignored the pain and focused on her Little One.  Her eyes peeked for a moment before closing again.  The waters were lifting her to the ceiling.  She squeezed.

        Adnah felt a sharp pain in his ribs, and even muffled inside her heard the little snaps.  Her womanhood clamped down firmly, her heartbeat was exploding.  Through the pain, his hand kept probing ahead of him, in all directions.  He had to find it, the walls loosened for a moment and he grabbed what he could to crawl back towards the entrance.  The giant heartbeats were now in distress.  He kept desperately searching, he needed to hurry.

        Bititi felt him trying, but it wasn’t enough.  The water had filled the room.  She tried to climax, but the cold of the water began to chill her.  She fought against it, her body rebelling against her efforts, forcing her to open her mouth, fiercely searching for oxygen.  The briny brackish water filled her lungs.  As the seconds ticked by the pleasure was steadily overwrought by the burning pain and stinging cold, her tears invisible in this saltwater tomb.

        Adnah felt her thrashing uncontrollably, felt her warmth dissipating, her constricting walls powerlessly loosening.  He fought the pain in his chest and lungs.  One hand forward at a time, one kick, step, after another.  The world was ending, but it wasn’t done, he had one more task, and he would complete it.  Through the suffocation and agony, he urgently felt along the walls.  Frantically, faster and faster until he felt that oddly textured part of her womanhood, the walls suddenly tightening in titillation.  He laughed in triumph as he brought both arms to the spot and began massaging, kneading the sensitive area.  The in-distress heartbeats stopped.

        Bititi froze, she felt the tingling from within her. The sensation changing from distress to ecstasy, her mind cleared away the exigency of survival and she remembered.  She closed her eyes tightly, blocking out the stinging water, and focused on what she wanted, what she needed.

        Adnah felt the walls pulsating with life, squeezing him firmly again.  He cried in a mixture of elation and hurt, his hands and fingers wildly caressing and pushing.  The walls squeezed tighter, his outstretched hands had barely any room to wiggle.  He gulped down buckets of her juices as he stroked.

        She bucked her hips in the water, opening her mouth to release screams she couldn’t vocalize.  She violently gyrated and contracted her sex as her mind began to dull.  She felt her essence slipping, so close…

        The walls constricted tighter, but he felt their exhaustion, knew that his world still wanted, still hungered.  He felt his bones cracking as he fought the feminine folds.  He clawed, squirmed his way further down her canal.  Her heartbeat was fast, but constantly slowing.  He curled himself before her erogenous zone, then pushed away from it using his back and legs.  The strain threatened to break his spine, but he persisted, remembering his goddess’ words.  He struggled until he felt his vertebrae begin to permanently displace, then he brought his right hand up to his chest, before plunging it with all his might into her.

        Bititi felt it, gurgling a primordial scream as she squeezed on final time. 

        The walls constricted like a snake around Adnah, crushing his body.  Bones cracked, and his ribs punctured into his lungs.  His labored breathing ceased as he was being crushed to death. 

        Just before succumbing to the darkness, there was a bloody smile on his lips as he rasped, “I am still a man…”

        Bititi felt content, complete, more so than ever before.  She couldn’t describe the elation; it wasn’t the ecstasy to which she was accustomed.  Even as the cold began tingling throughout her body, she felt whole, utterly satisfied.  The last of her warmth dissipated into the frigid waters as her now open eyes glazed over. 

        Those luscious lips curved deeply upwards into a smile no man had ever before elicited, as her flame smoldered out and the grave claimed its due.

 Story End Notes:

        My apologies, was in a hurry last week and submitted subpar chapters (Ch. 10 & 12 particularly), hate to punish people actually interested in reading my story with crappy(er) writing.  Have fixed said chapters (debatable by those who dislike my writing abilities) and this is the final chapter.  Hope you enjoyed it and have a good one!

-SharpieQuill