As you dismounted the raised tile which kept water from flowing out from the shower and began your trek across the tiled floor, you couldn’t help but think about your situation. The tired ache that raged through your body, the heaviness to your breathing that came from having nearly drown, the bruised and battered feeling which perforated your body, it all hung heavy upon your mind, but not so heavy as thoughts of the future.

No matter how hard you thought, you couldn’t see a way out of your current situation. At your size, you were truly helpless, incapable of either fending off the women who might abuse you or taking care of yourself.  At your current size, it would take an hour to cross a distance which would normally take five minutes, so escape was impractical. All the sources of food and water you could think of involved exposing yourself to well traveled areas, so you would either starve or get caught eventually. Hell, you didn’t even have the dignity of being clothed, though the shrinking ray seems to have rendered you immune to the cold. Your chances of surviving the day seemed grim, let alone a whole week.

Of course, you could just declare a winner. However, the thought of a special punishment seemed oddly frightening. It seemed odd because you couldn’t picture anything worse than being shrunk and trapped with these three women, but who knows what sick things the Jew Producer could think up? He did, after all, arrange this sick competition.

Though it was a lot to think about, hobbling as you were, you didn’t exactly make good time. It took a full minute in order to finally reach the door,  the sounds of Foxxy’s lusty moans often distracting you from your thoughts. By the time you arrived at the base of the door you wanted nothing more than to lie down rest, but the bathroom was undoubtedly the most visited place in the Drawn Together house, so stopping here was a good way to get caught. Tiredly, you crouched down to the floor to check the gap between the door and the floor.

Disappointment filled you as you looked at the gap before you. Even at your miniscule size, it was apparent you wouldn’t fit. Though the gape was initially wide enough, the hallway on the other side of the door was carpeted, the tough fibers rising upwards to form an impenetrable barrier. Looking down towards the other end, it was plain to see that the barrier extended to the other side unchanged.

A tired resignation took you as you realized that you couldn’t escape, at least not this way. So long as the door remained closed, you weren’t going anywhere. You were going to have to wait for the door to be opened and be ready to rush through, it was the only way. A quick look around told you that the door would open on the other side. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to set off just yet, not after such a disappointment. You sat down, waiting a few minutes or so before, with a deep breath, you began your sluggish walk.

Once more, you thought as you walked, trying to think of some way to escape this mess. However, there was no obvious solution. You weren’t very familiar with the house layout, so you didn’t even know where the bathroom was in relation to every other room. Even if you had been familiar with the layout, it was unlikely that you could reach anywhere without being spotted. You were torn once more from your thoughts as Foxxy let out a violent groan. However, something struck you as odd about her voice. Tiredly, you cast your gaze over your shoulder, taking in the scene of the dark titan behind you.

Her black hair draping wetly all about her, Foxxy hunched over in the shower, knuckled deep within her own sex as she gripped her breast with her free hand. Violently she pumped, her hands moving in rapid jerks as she fought furiously to get off, her eyes closed in concentration. However, her face was awash with pure frustration. With a jolt, you realized your old tormentor was having trouble finishing herself off.

You couldn’t help but chuckle tiredly at the thought. It looked like she could get off without you up her twat, or at least that’s what you hoped, and apparently her thoughts were far too concentrated on getting off for her to remember your existence. Served the bitch right. You hoped she never got off again for the torment she’d put you through. Feeling slightly better from Foxxy’s apparent frustrations, you continued on towards the far side of the door.

Maybe all was not yet lost, you thought to yourself as you stumbled onwards. You were, after all, free at the moment. Just as you had escaped from Foxxy through sheer chance, there was no telling what could happen between now and a week from now. A smile even graced your tired lips before a sound broke you from your hopeful thoughts. Footsteps!

Before you could even react, the bathroom door suddenly flung open. You were close to the other end, perhaps too close as the door hurled you across the floor with a much wider swing. The world was reduced to streaks of color as you rag dolled across the floor with a force which would have easily torn you limb from limb had it not been for the effects of the shrink beam. As it were, your flight came to a sudden halt as you slammed violently into an unknown surface, the soft ping of your body striking hollow ceramic ringing in your ears as you faded from consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunched over within the shower, Foxxy was in anguish. She had been so close to cumming, so very close. Her thighs had been burning, her toes had been curling, and it had taken every ounce of self control not to just end it then and there. She had wanted to build up her ecstasy once more, to try to emulate the orgasm from minutes before. What had gone wrong?

She couldn’t remember the exact moment it had happened, but everything had suddenly begun to come undone. The deep, throbbing sensation had suddenly dissipated, stunting her coming orgasm. However, Foxxy couldn’t be sated with just a normal finish, not after what she’d felt upon waking. Over the course of the next few minutes, the black nymphomaniac had tried every trick she had known to get her orgasm to grow once more. It had been a complete disaster.

Even now, the frantic woman pounded at her sex, trying to kindle a passion which had all but faded. Not only had her orgasm been stunted, but it had never come. Foxxy had never run into this problem before, not by her own hands. Her gritted teeth creaked as the frustration began to overwhelm her, her hand still knuckle deep in her slit as she nearly tore her own nipple off.

The door suddenly banged open, catching Foxxy off guard. However, tense as she was Foxxy didn’t jump. She couldn’t care less who saw her naked. Who hadn’t already? Her only response was to snap her eyes open, ready to take out her frustrations on whatever hapless soul had been unfortunate enough to feel the urge to relieve herself. Princess Clara entered, her face nearly a mirror of Foxxy’s frustrations.

 At the sight of Clara’s face, Foxxy felt a surge of anger. What was that spoiled bitches problem? The last thing Foxxy wanted right now was some racist loudmouth coming in and making her mood worse. However, Clara didn’t speak immediately, instead striding purposefully towards the toilet.

Clara didn’t even so much as look at Foxxy as she reached the toilet, lifting the cover and turning around. In one smooth, violent motion the pale princess gathered the dress, pulling it up and out of the way as her pale bottom struck the cold seat, her lack of panties leaving her vagina exposed. It was only after she had situated herself upon her porcelain throne that she suddenly stared full on at Foxxy, her eyes intent and hard.

“I hope you’re happy.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Clara was in foul mood as she strode towards the bathroom. Ever since her prize had escaped during the blackout, she had felt nothing but frustration as she had fruitless searched the house. This was supposed to have been her chance for revenge. The mailman, she couldn’t bring herself to even think his name she was so angry, was supposed to have been her toy to torture. Now, everything was falling apart.

It was her damned roommates’ fault. Toot was a useless blob which couldn’t search for more than a minute before needing a snack break, and Foxxy, like all her kind, was an unmotivated, lazy, good for nothing. Why, Clara had even searched the bedroom in which all the girls slept only to find that slut taking a nap. If she hadn’t feared that great oaf would only hinder her search, she would have flipped her ass out of bed.

Not that it had helped of course. Clara had searched the entire house top to bottom, only to find nothing. For God’s sake, he was only the size of her middle finger. He couldn’t have gotten that far. It wasn’t until the churning in her bowels had gotten unbearable, actually forcing her to double over in pain in the hallway, that she had finally conceded to taking a bathroom break.

Clara slammed the bathroom door open with all her might, immediately taking in Foxxy as she sated her carnal urges like the heathen she was. However, the sensation within her bowels was infinitely more important that that dog at the moment. She would have to wait. As Clara situated herself upon the crude excuse for a toilet shared by the entire drawn together cast, she turned to face Foxxy, venom in her eyes.

“I hope you’re happy.” Clara put as much spite in her voice as she could manage, her anger overflowing.

“Gurl, you do NOT wanna be messing with me right now.” Foxxy’s voice held a tone of warning and frustration as she pulled her hand free from her womanhood, bracing her arm and head against the wall as she allowed the hot water to rush over her. It almost looked as if she were suffering from a migraine, the way her eyes seemed to sink in as she gazed hatefully at Clara.

A sudden pain raced through her abdomen forcing Clara to close her eyes in pain and clench her teeth. She flexed her bowels, trying to force the contents into the world. However, when the effort proved fruitless she returned her gaze once more to Foxxy.

“What did I ever do to you? Besides being wealthier, smarter, and better looking? This was my challenge, my chance at revenge, and now it’s gone!” Clara’s voice raised at that last part. A sudden pressure pressed against Clara’s back entrance as Foxxy’s face suddenly twisted in a snarl, her head rising away from the wall as she drew herself up in an aggressive stance. A ruckus fart reverberated within the bowl beneath her as Clara held Foxxy’s gaze, but Clara ignored it.

“Bitch, I am warnin you. I don’t know what you’re whining about, but you better start making sense for I come over there.” Foxxy clenched her fist at her side, clearly having reached the end of her patience. Usually, it took a lot more for Clara to set Foxxy to violence, but something was clearly off. However, Clara was far too emotional to take heed. A sudden pressure in Clara’s bowels suddenly took hold of Clara’s attention, arresting whatever rash word she was about to speak next.

Painfully, a slimy tip forced its way from between her fleshy ring. It slithered and oozed, sagging sluggishly towards the water below. A burst of air pushed past, sounding a wet trumpet as the log first kissed the water before the great mass which followed forced its way out.

 Clara grunted and clenched as she felt her bowels empty, feeling both relieved and immensely sad. After hearing about the upcoming opportunity, she had prepared, buying tools and toys to exact her revenge. In preparation for the first amongst her torments, she had forbid herself from relieving herself, saving her waste for a more fulfilling purpose. For five days she had suffered unbearable cramps as she went about her preparations. The pain had nearly been unbearable. Now, as the hot filth fell from between her ass, all her efforts were reduced to nothing. Suddenly, all the bluster faded from Clara and she couldn’t help herself. She placed her arms across her knees, resting her face upon them as she burst into tears.

“The mailman.” Clara sobbed, her voice almost unintelligible. She didn’t look up to see Foxxy’s face. She didn’t care anymore. She just sobbed for a few moments more before continuing.

“He was my friend. Perhaps the only real friend I’ve ever had. He wasn’t like the other people who called themselves my friend, but really wanted to use me for my royal status. He wasn’t like the princesses who acted as my friends only because they were forbidden to be friends with those of lower status. No. When we talked, he showed genuine interest in my well being. He didn’t want favors from me. I offered to get him a better job for being so kind to me, but he declined. And it’s not like he didn’t have other friends to hang out with, he wasn’t restricted as I had been my entire life. No. When we talked, he treated me like a person, he legitimately cared for my well being, and then he left me.” The last five words came out as a half choked wail despite the muffling cloth.

Clara sat there, seated over her own foul waste and sobbing uncontrollably into her dress. She didn’t care that her tears would stain the expensive cloth. It didn’t matter. After crying for a minute, the gentle warmth of a two hands settling upon her shoulders jolted Clara from her sorrow, and she quickly raised her tear clouded gaze to stare into the face of Foxxy, kneeling naked before her.

~~~~~~~~~~

After hearing Clara’s tear choked confession, Foxxy couldn’t help but feel bad. Upon the mention of the mailman, her memory of the shrunken figure had returned to her. It didn’t take long for Foxxy to connect the dots between her earlier orgasm, the toy she’d pulled from within herself, and her inability to get off. However, a quick glance about the floor yielded nothing. He was gone.

Guilt flooded Foxxy as she listened to Clara pour her heart out along with shame. Here she was, judging poor, naïve Clara just as she judged everyone else. Foxxy hadn’t really known what this mailman had meant to Clara, she’d just seen an opportunity for some freaky sex. By the time Clara finished her tale, Foxxy found herself kneeling before the sobbing princess, her hands upon her shoulders.

“If this mailman means so much to you, why’re you so bent on torturing him?” Foxxy’s voice was low and soothing, her compassion plain.

“Because he hurt me. Oh God, I didn’t know I could hurt this bad.” Clara’s voice was both confused and hurt. It filled Foxxy with pity. After allowing a moment for Clara to settle down a little, Foxxy continued.

“Honey, that’s love.” The look that crossed Clara’s face was one of alarm. She immediately moved to deny Foxxy’s claims.

“No. It can’t be. I’m a princess. Princesses can’t fall in love with commoners.” Clara’s voice nearly choked at the last word. Foxxy gave the poor white girl a moment to let everything sink in before she continued.

“But you did. That’s what’s gots you so riled up. It isn’t that he hurt you; it’s that HE hurt you. Anybody else in the world coulda done the same thing and you wouldn’t have been half so upset. You like him.” Clara shook her head vehemently, trying to deny Foxxy’s words, but her denial didn’t last long.

“Please, Foxxy. Tell me how to get rid of it. I don’t want to feel this way anymore.” Clara’s eyes were pleading. Foxxy grasped both of her hands in her own and looked her in the eye.

“There ain’t nothing to get rid of. Love is a beautiful thing.” Oh, Foxxy had had her share of Love before. It was a bitter sweet feeling.

“Then what should I do?”

“Let’s start by finding your man. He couldn’t have gotten that far.” Foxxy stood as she spoke, Clara’s hands still grasped within her own. She would help Clara find her man, she owed it to her after the way she’d snatched him out from under her nose. However, Foxxy didn’t know if she had the heart to tell Clara what she’d done to the perky princess. Not only that, but she still felt the uncontrollable desire to use that shrunken toy for herself. Would she really be able to give up the pleasure she’d felt earlier to help this spoilt princess? The lover in Foxxy said no, but the woman in Foxxy wasn’t so sure. She’d have to cross that bridge when she came to it.

“You’re right!” Clara determinedly stood up, her dress falling back into place. Quickly, she leaned into Foxxy, smashing her perky chest against Foxxy’s own bare breasts in a crushing hug. Foxxy felt herself grow wet. A girl could get used to this.

“We’d better get started.” Clara’s voice was bright now, though still a little gargled from having cried so hard. Clara separated and took a step towards the door, obviously intent on immediately scouting the house in an attempt to find the lost mailman, when Foxxy stopped her.

“Um… Clara. I think you’re forgetting something.”