Chapter 4

"What's up, little guy? Been exploring?"

When Zava returned from the bathroom, she was amused to find Mark scrambling back up the lamp cord. She grinned. Betty had been right: the little man had been checking for escape routes.

"I...I wasn't doing...anything," the six-inch-tall man panted, as he hauled himself back onto the nightstand. "I was just having a look around, that's all."

"Sure," Zava said, as she got on her bed, lying back against her pile of pillows. "Because exploring my bedroom is just such an exciting adventure for you, right?"

Mark ignored her sarcasm, crossing his little arms over his surprisingly broad chest. "Where's Betty? What have you done with her?"

Zava rolled her eyes. "Oh, you know, the usual. Grinding her bones to make my bread. That sort of thing."

The doll-sized man just glared up at her.

Zava laughed. "Oh, lighten up, Mark! Her clothes are in the sink soaking. I set her on a towel on the counter, and gave her a magazine to read while she's waiting. Hey, maybe you'd like me to wash your clothes, too?" Zava grinned. "And your cute little self, as well?"

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"That's it. Fuck my nipple, you little slut."

The miniature woman had been reluctant at first, refusing to follow instructions when she was placed atop Millan's right breast. Another flick to the side of the tiny creature's head, however - not quite enough to knock her out this time - had convinced the tiny Earthling that cooperation was in her best interest.

Now, as Millan leaned back in her chair, the little redhead was straddling the top of Millan's tit, little legs clamping tightly to it to keep herself from tumbling off. She was grinding herself rhythmically onto Millan's stiffened nipple, mashing her little pussy onto the pebbled, hard nub. 

Millan smiled. "That's a good girl. I can feel that little pussy of yours trying to take in my big old nipple. It's a little too wide for that tiny slit of yours, isnt' it?"

The tiny Earthling's only response was a tired little grunt as she continued to hump Millan's nipple, her breaths coming in short, huffing little gasps and her eyes firmly clamped shut. Millan saw that the little face had reddened to a spotchy, fevered blush of exertion, the miniature features twisted into an expression that was equal parts pleasure and pain. Her little pet, it seemed, was not quite as reluctant as she had been letting on.

"Aww," Millan cooed, reaching down to take one cute little tit between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing the ridges of her thumb pad across the tiny nipple. "My little doll seems to be enjoying herself now. I knew you were just a little slut. Can't get enough, can you, you dirty little cunt?"

The tiny woman squeaked as her little boob was played with, stopping her thrustings for a second, but quickly continuing when Millan gave her tit a warning squeeze. The soft little doll humped into Millan's tit-flesh with renewed vigor, squirming a little around the giant fingers now playing with her own tits, but having the common sense not to resist the giantess.

"You're starting to get wet down there, aren't you, little cunt? Nasty little thing, aren't you?"

There was no coherent response from the little woman - just the tiny little grunts as she assaulted Millan's tit with her body, legs squeezing into the breast tightly and the little hands gripping at Millan's fingers as they continued to play with her grape-sized tits. Millan noticed, with no small degree of pleasure, the tiny tears squeezing out of the tightly shut eyes and flowing down the smooth, reddened cheeks.

Millan laughed. "Oh, you pathetic little cunt. It hurts trying to grind that little pussy onto my nip, doesn't it? Well, you'd better keep at it, you little twat. If you don't I might decide to just rip one of these little tits clean off." 

Millan gave one of the tiny breasts a light pinch, and was rewarded by a high-pitched scream from her little pet.

The blond teen grinned. Now she was having fun.

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"You sure look cute down there."

Mark stood on Zava's lap near the hem of her short sleepshirt, staring up at her. He made a small, huffing sound through tight lips, then took a few quick steps along Zava's hip.

Zava liked the feel of the tiny footsteps across the thin material of her shirt. Giggling, she placed a hand down in front of the little man, effectively stopping him before he could jump down off her body to the bed below. Mark stared first at the giant hand before him, then back up at Zava. He didn't look happy.

Zava laughed again. "Oh, come on, Mark! Don't be mad. Anyway, I thought you'd like being in my lap. Down there so close to my..." Zava felt a tiny blush climb her cheeks. "Well...you know."

The tiny man let out a derisive snort. "You must be joking. You're nothing but a child."

Zava frowned, then seemed to notice her hand still hanging just in front of the little man. She made small shooing motions with her fingers, finally coaxing Mark to walk back to where she had originally set him down near her bellybutton. With her little man back under control, she told him tartly, "I am not a child. I'm eighteen years old. Besides," she added, grinning as she cupped her breast over her sleepshirt, giving it a squeeze, "I kinda don't think you've ever seen a 'child' with tits like these, huh, Mark?"

That seemed to shut up the little man for a moment. He gawked up at her, small beneath the shelf of her breasts as she leaned forward a bit. Zava was a amused to see Mark now actually in the shadow of her chest.

Feeling more confident, Zava slid her bare feet toward her on the blanket, raising her knees up as her legs tucked in close. She smiled as she saw Mark twist his little head slowly around, taking in the firm swell of her tight, shapely thighs as they towered behind him. "Or maybe you're a leg guy, Mark," she said. "How about it? Are my legs long enough for you? Are they big enough to wrap around you, do you think?" 

Mark looked stunned for another few seconds, then he shook his head, grinning. "You're just a silly young girl, Zava. And I've had just about enough of this nonsense. Now put me back on the nightstand." 

No, little man, she thought with an inner smile, now I've had enough.

She reached her hand down, lightening fast, and stuck her thumb and forefinger in between the little man's legs, clamping gently but firmly onto his crotch. Mark shouted and punched at her fingers, as Zava pinned him up against her bare leg. As she held him there, pinioned by his privates against the smooth flesh of her thigh, he continued to pound at her fingers and shout up at her, though his voice now had a strangled, strained quality to it. Behind the anger, the tiny voice seemed to hold a hint of some other emotion entirely.

Zava began to slide the struggling little man up her thigh, doing her best to hold him securely yet gently between her thumb and forefinger. His flailing little body felt wonderfully warm and firm in her grasp. She was happily surprised to feel something tiny and hard pressing through the crotch of his pants onto the pad of her thumb.

"You're right, Mark. I am just a kid," she said, giggling in delight, "so I guess I'll just play with my cute 'widdle' toy now." 

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Millan watched in fascination as the tiny redhead gave a keening, high-pitched squeak, then flopped bonelessly down across her tit. When the little body started to roll off her breast, Millan scooped it easily into her palm, and brought the tiny creature up to her own face.

She grinned. Her little doll had passed out.

"Not much endurance, huh, slut?" she whispered, prodding the tiny vermin in the side with a red-nailed finger. "I had a lot more planned for you tonight, too. Oh well. I'll have to dream up some more stuff I can do to you tomorrow, I guess."

For the next several moments, Millan explored the tiny body in her hand. She flicked at the grape-sized tits with her fingers, tapping rhythmically at them as though working two, tiny speed bags. She stuck the tip of her pinky finger into the tiny, rosebud mouth, making the little lips seem to suckle her finger in a teasing imitation of felatio as she pulled her finger in and out. She then set the tiny woman down on the table, taking one little leg in each hand and pulling them apart then together, apart then together - amusing herself by pretending the opening and closing little pussy was talking to her.

Millan snatched up the still unconscious woman in her fist, bringing the lolling body up to her face. She gave the flushed, slack body a sloppy lick with her broad, wet tongue. 

"Have a nice nap, pet," she cooed in mock affection. "Tomorrow the real fun starts."