Emily opened the door, ambled into Lizzy's room and crossed her arms, looking about with a deep frown when she saw her friend, “What on earth are you doing there, Christi?”
Christi glanced back at her with a puppy pouty face, still dangling one boot dangerously close over a shrunken city on the floor, “They don’t worship meeeee!” she whined. “Stop screaming down there!" she instantly changed her sad expression into a stern one while addressing the shrinkees. "Worship my boots! Chop chop!”
Emily ignored her friend's ludicrous attempt of making the little people to worship her.
She scanned the floor, hands on her hips, “Where do all these cities come from anyway? There are so many!”
she lowered on her haunches, raking the voluminous bush of blond ringlets piled on her head to the side, so she could scrutinize the shrunken landscape stretching out on Lizzy's floor.
“Is this some kind of game-board these cities are placed upon?” she scratched the card board-like surface. She saw various speck-sized military troops, vehicles and tanks alike, engaged in battle with each other. They immediately responded on Emily's humongous finger, emerging from the skies to intervene with their field of battle and scattered every which way. “What are they fighting for? Emily asked. “you guys are playing a game with these people?" she eyed Christi distrustful. "I seriously hope not.
“Hey! You even listening?” Emily stood back up. “Stop that!”
she walked over to Christi who was poking her finger against various shrunken infrastructures in a somewhat rough manner. Christi kept ignoring her and continued to pester the shrunken people on the floor, by demolishing their frail tiny buildings under the bellows of entertaining laughter. Emily grabbed Christi's arm.
“Just”-Christi made a firm motion like she wanted to elbow someone standing behind her-“let go of me!” she succeeded in freeing herself from Emily's grip, but the momentum caused her body to topple over, resulting in her cute butt to flatten a large chunk of another micro city sprawled out right behind her. Both girls never realized that the impact of Christi's butt crashing on the floor created a potent shockwave, causing massive devastation upon other cities lying in the direct vicinity.
“Look what you've done!” Christi fumed. “you’re such a lummox. Lizzy is not going to be happy about this.”
“Lizzy has to be stopped!” Emily retorted. “the amulet's power has gone straight to the girl's head.”
Christi, being selective deaf to Emily's words, ignored her and looked down upon the shrunken cities dotted on the floor. “Now they will never going to worship me.” she whined. “and its all your fault.”
+++
Dean rubbed his cheek while taking a glance into the rear-view mirror of his ramshackled chevy, rusty tail fins included. A big fresh red handprint was plastered upon his face, a freely given parting gift from his wife, Casandra, after Dean confessed to her he was madly in love with Christi.
“You let that jumbo-sized floozy give you a blow job, see how that works out!” she said and shattered a vase while hurling it against the wall, merely one feet away from Dean's cowering face. One nasty shard shot its way through the coverage of his forearms and treated him on a filthy cut on his cheek. He was glad that none of his male colleagues were here to witness his bitch-like scream. Knowing darn well that Casandra would not stop before inflicting some kind of serious injury upon him, Dean chose the hares and went out through the back, dodging flying kitchenware.
Shifting his eyes on the road again, Dean felt a tent forming in his pants as he witnessed a mountainous red boot stationed firmly beyond the city's richly filled skyline. Christi's thunderous voice rumbled down from the skies, addressing them all. They were all such fools to ignore Christi's plea. How hard can it be to worship someone just to save your own skin? Let alone if that someone was a stunning young ginger girl.
Being a brawny stout guy with a grumbling low voice, Dean noticed that his appearance was always somewhat intimidating to people. This was also the case when interacting with someone of the opposite gender. Most girls who made clear that they were sexually interested in Dean were pretty fond of being dominated by his sturdy arms during intercourse, with strong preference for seeing him on top, having his way with them.
Although Dean could certainly value the satisfaction of being in control of things, to be in the position to forge paths for others, he always had this secret desire of being in the clutches of someone else holding sway over him, especially by petite cute girls. The thought of a beautiful slender female, whose physical strength according to nature’s will was far less than his, wresting control over him was more than sufficient to fuel his primal urges. He wanted to be forced to look up at her gorgeous body, craved for her to seize control and wanted her to laugh in his face about his pitiful attempts to escape from the cruelest acts of her whims.
Role-plays were the perfect opportunity for Dean to indulge in such fantasies. Innumerable nights it had been, whereby Dean gasped for mercy while his battered face was stuck between the cold hard floor and the dirty sole of Cassandra's thigh high patent boot. Her cruel but sexy laughter charged his member to the point of explosive ecstasy. Those were the days. Dean loved it, could not get enough of it, but it was not the ultimate thing. The experience was still staged. Both Dean and Cassandra agreed with each other who would be in control during the session. However, if Dean decided otherwise there wasn't really much Cassandra could do to prevent it. Being a muscular male, Dean would always be in the position of power when interacting with a petite woman. There was always the option to choose for weapons and instruments of bondage to grant Cassandra the position of power. But those were tools. Dean wanted to know what it would be like to be completely at the mercy of a mere petite young girl, to be utterly delivered to her whimsical clutches.
That’s where Christi came in. The girl had to be at least fifteen years younger than him, in the earliest years of her twenties, but she was just so beautiful. With an engaging flashing white smile that did its utmost to appear all mature but was not ready yet to let go off its pubertal edges. And above all, she was huge and extremely powerful, making Dean feel more insignificant than ever.
“Outta my way, meatbag!” Dean honked his car through masses of people, screeching and running about aimlessly over the street. He needed to reach Christi’s red boot.
“Just, get on your knees, for fuck sakes!” Dean opened the window and screamed well-intentioned advice to anyone who was willing to listen to him. “panic will only bring us doom.”
Sick of restraining the speed of his car to avoid collision, Dean slammed his foot down on the pedal and sped his way towards the monumental boot in the far background, with screeching tires. It did not take long before Dean’s car claimed its first victim when it hit a waddling old pops, hurling him against the windscreen, busting it completely. When the hood was finally cleared from the body and Dean had a clear view again, his attention was driven upwards, all the way along Christi’s unending bare leg and he wondered why on earth it never occurred to him to look to the sky instead of being all transfixed on Christi’s red boot.
Right above him, Dean was able to witness the most heavenly upskirt view he had ever seen. He was instantly overwhelmed by an irresistible urge to engage in a five-knuckle shuffle. Right here, right now, while driving.
As he drooled at Christi's skyrocketing pole dancer legs it took utterly five hard strokes before his beastly engorged member blasted its warm oozing load against the car's ceiling, like the ammo of a slingshot flinging at an incoming enemy.
A positively large drop of sticky semen made a free-fall when it dripped from the ceiling and ended in Dean’s open moaning mouth, spreading a blended taste of bitter saltiness about as it splashed upon his tongue.
Dean’s moment of celestial joy took exactly two whole seconds before his life was ended as his car made a frontal impact against a honking approaching lorry.