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Author's Chapter Notes:

I told one, actually. I managed to find enough time to write this before work really picked up and got bad, and since I got a lot of requests . . . think of it as "Crowd Ask 2". I still intend to finish this . . . eventually . . . but for now just think of it as I'm on a hiatus because I still suck at writing smut.

Given that you guys still have two more wishes (plus more if people get in gear and write good CoG shorts before Christmas Eve, the new cutoff), feel free to leave reviews- what abandoned stories should I revisit? Which one-offs need follow-up? If you can make a pitch that piques my interest, this can even just be free request time! Be warned, though . . . first come, first served.

That said, this goliath of a story has more reviews and views than its two closest competitors in my roster combined (if you want the numbers, this monster has over 84,000 views and 71 reviews- CoG has 45 reviews, "Light and Dark" has about 32,000 views and 25 reviews, and "Dream or Nightmare?", of all stories, has 31,000 views). I had initially attributed that to its sheer length (Jesus fuck, this thing is long by my standards, and I might start entering Jacksmith's turf on length [70+ motherfucking chapters, literally a novel of GTS content, for my personal favorite of his] if I do the smut/fluff fillers), but apparently you guys like 17-year-old me interacting with bug-sized ladies based vaguely on real people I tried to ask out. Huh.

And now to my latest awful attempt to write smut with my own teenage self-insert involved . . . yaaaaay . . .

Diana nuked pizza for dinner for the . . . eighth? . . . night in a row, and to be honest even her rather unrefined palate was getting bored. Still, watching the puny women on her kitchen table squirm from the delicious scent of pizza was always fun. It was cathartic, it made the athlete's life feel slightly less pathetic.

Still, watching them shiver reminded Diana of something- November was nearly over, and it would only get colder from here. She could try to bug the landlord into fixing the heating, but that might bump up her rent more than she could reasonably handle. It might just be better to use the overtime pay she'd been getting recently from working holidays (Thanksgiving had been not too long ago . . . not getting that off school felt like a sin, but it was a schedule change to cover the fact that the year had started a full week late thanks to repairs) and buy blankets. She could see it now- warm and cozy in her blankets all winter long, with her personal tiny women forced to crawl in with her if they didn't want to freeze to death.

Speaking of freezing to death . . . it had become obvious that the others weren't really sharing heat with Val, and it showed in the blonde's growing increasingly sluggish and weak. Her recent lethargy had only been broken by fury for a few brief moments . . . but did Diana really want to help her?

Considering this, she returned to her bedroom without a word.

*** NATASHA ***

"Kiss it," Diana purred from far above, the ball of her massive foot resting on Natasha's puny body, yet miraculously not squashing the little mute to paste. "Lick, worship, prove your worthlessness, you pathetic little maggot." Natasha could only barely see her Godlike Amazon's face through a gap in her toes, and this feeling of powerlessness was amplified by the tone of revulsion Diana had adopted. "Unless, of course, you want to experience the fate of any other bug stupid enough to be in the path of my powerful foot."

The brunette teen didn’t need any more convincing- the implication that Diana could squish her like a bug was strong enough, and that put enough fear and arousal in her to throw herself into appreciation for her girlfriend's positively immense, calloused sole. The heat was overwhelming, the brassy, earthy scent of feet permeated Natasha's entire being, and she was positively soaked in sweat. She squirmed with desire as she launched herself into a flurry of kisses and rubbing, silently pleading with the ebon-haired Goddess above to taunt her further, grind her soul to nothingness with a few words . . .

"You know . . . I could just step down and snuff you out, bug. Turn you into a little red mark on my sole that I can just shower off," Diana laughed, her icy blue eyes conveying a cold kind of authority, a divine arrogance that made the miniscule mute release on the rough flesh pinning her to the ground. "My, my . . . the bug is a bold one. Covering my skin with your filthy juices . . . I am owed tribute."

Diana lifted her foot from the floor, and Natasha was adhered to the ball with sweat . . . and pure aroused shame shivered down her spine at the derisive laughter the athlete gave at the sight. "Stuck to me . . . with nothing but my own sweat . . . that's fucking priceless! You're so pathetic you can't even break free of my sweat!" Natasha was peeled free, her skin made raw and sensitive from being so roughly removed from Diana's ped. "Now . . . it's snack time," Diana purred, dropping Natasha on her tongue . . . before casually closing her lips and leaving the little thing in damp darkness.

The long, pink muscle squeezed the puny mute, flung her this way and that, dominated her so thoroughly that Natasha came again and again in the humid, sticky blackness . . . all this set to a soundtrack of organic squishing noises, Diana's own soft moans of approval, and the eager digestive system far below. Worn out, Natasha began being pulled inexorably to the back of Diana's inescapable throat . . . and a teasing "Goodbye" echoed all around her moments before an ear-splitting gulp condemned her to Diana's stomach.

/// /// ///

Natasha sat bolt upright, unsure if she'd just had a nightmare or a sex dream. Blearily, dizzily, she eyed the clock: 2:13 AM. She was laying on Diana's flat stomach, which explained why her fantasy had taken a sudden turn to being eaten- the subtle sounds of an idle belly below were incorporated into her dream by her subconscious mind.

Still, though, Natasha couldn't get back to sleep after a dream like that. Her thighs were drenched in cum, and the little mute was honestly afraid of what new fetish she'd acquire just from the presence of Diana's overpowering dominance next.

So, to tease Diana's dreams, she quickly rushed up the athlete's body and sat on her upper lip. She knew that the scent of her arousal would immediately start toying with her girlfriend's subconscious in much the same way her girlfriend had unknowingly toyed with hers . . .

*** DIANA ***

She had had no idea when Natasha had gotten her hands on Shrinking Violet . . . but Diana gave no fucks. Swapping sizes was exactly what her submissive mind had ordered.

Of course, Natasha couldn't order her around, but Diana was perfectly fine being played with between beautiful tits dozens of times her size, being suffocated by the bulk of her paramour's breasts. She'd had to work her way up here, earn it through cleaning Natasha's soles with her tiny tongue, squirm her way free of her titanic girlfriend's round ass, sing the praises of her personal deity . . . and those tasks had been enjoyable in and of themselves, but the reward made it even more worthwhile.

However, she suddenly found herself being pulled from Natasha's cleavage, saw the lovely young woman's face with drooping eyelids and playfully smirking lips . . . and Diana was lowered across the body of her Goddess of a girlfriend until she saw the sight that indicated that, yes, she'd died and gone to heaven.

Natasha's hungry, pulsating pussy, demanding to be fed with a teensy living lesbian toy. The strong scent of arousal wafting from it was just as much confirmation as the glistening beads of juices dribbling free that Natasha was just as turned on as she was . . . and, consequences be damned, she would give in to those desires.

Diana knew she'd never escape from the tight, wet embrace of her lover's sex, but it wasn't like she ever intended to. If it didn't kill her, Diana would refuse to leave. She was pushed just past the velvety outer lips, practically crying tears of joy as-

/// /// ///

"TAMALES! CHAMPURRADO!" 

"God fucking damn it," Diana sighed, having been woken from quite possibly the greatest sex dream of her life by someone selling food. She hated waking up horny, because it usually just meant she'd spend the entire day turned on. 

Out of the corner of her eye, however, she saw little Natasha burrowing into her dirty clothes, seemingly seeking something.

"Worrying about being turned on all day," Diana scoffed to herself quietly, sneaking up on a distracted Natasha . . . 

Chapter End Notes:

CLIFF HANGER!

Who am I fucking kidding lol, I have 10 days of filler to make.

Review, please!

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