I winced as her thick stubble poked and bent against my skin. I could smell her  hot musk, as she forcefully rubbed my tiny body on the outer side of her labia. In the dark, I couldn't see, but I could feel her hands roughly forcing me to rub up and down her skin, and then shoving me deep in her vagina. She rubbed me hard against the walls, and soon her vast, overwhelming musk gave me an erection. I howled in pain as her forceful motions forced my erection against her walls and bent it roughly up and down against her slick recesses. This went on for a few minutes. Finally, she drew me out, even more exhausted than last time. I quickly found my nude body in a bowl of sudsy water, and she quickly washed me off.

"Almost ready to leave?" asked Mr. Fujiwara, entering the room again.

"I'm coming," said Mrs. Fujiwara. She tumbled me around in a damp hand towel, then flung me in her purse.

When we arrived, I looked up at Mrs. Fujiwara, but her face was looking straight ahead. I heard some teenage girls giggling, and soon I heard a greeter welcoming them to the mall. I knew of this one-it had several American-style stores and fast food chains.

I couldn't see much from my vantage point, just Mrs. Fujiwara's giant arm draped over her purse. Occasionally, I caught a glimpse of a face as a person went by. They were mostly Japanese, although once a white girl with short black hair, who had a sweatshirt for some Japanese university, walked by, glancing at my tiny form as she did.

I kept getting jostled while Mrs. Fujiwara walked, but I tucked myself into a paper yen and dozed off.

I woke up a couple hours later to Mrs. Fujiwara lifting me out of the bag. We were in an American souvenier store. There were all kinds of shirts with popular characters like Mickey Mouse, as well as shirts in English that surprisingly did not say random nonsense. "Does this remind you of home?" Mrs. Fujiwara asked me. "Oh, I forgot, you're from Canada."

Soon, we went to a store that sold lotions. Mrs. Fujiwara squirted a tiny amount on her hand and rubbed me around in it to. Her hands coated me in a very thin layer of grease, which smelled vaguely refreshing and fruit-like. I sat back down in the middle of her now-glistening palm and suddenly got a glimpse of her deep nostrils as she sniffed the lotion. I could feel wind rush through my hair up into her nose, and at my size I could see a glob of snot back in the depth of her left nostril, which I could easily crawl into at my size.

"Oooh, it smells refreshing," she said.

Soon, we reached a spa center. She pulled a coupon out of her purse and simultaneously handed me to Mr. Fujiwara.

"Alright, you keep an eye on him and meet back here at 3:30," she said.

"Got it," said her husband.

She walked off into the spa center, while Mr. Fujiwara continued exploring the mall, with me cupped in his hand like I had been cupped in Mrs. Fujiwara's. It was a different environment, as his hands weren't as soft as Mrs. Fujiwara's and his skin was a little darker.

We passed by a stand with tiny-themed jewelry, such as bracelets with a compartment to put your tiny in. The shopkeeper, a beaming Japanese lady whose makeup tried to mask her age greeted Mr. Fujiwara. She had a couple tinies to demonstrate the different features of the different jewelry.

"You looking to buy something for your wife?" the shopkeeper asked.

"Perhaps, in the future for her birthday," Mr. Fujiwara replied. He set me down beside a simple gold necklace with a glass cage at the bottom. His fingers gripped the huge ring of metal, and he placed the cage beside me, trying to see if I would fit. It looked like I would.

"That's a fine choice," said the shopkeeper, and she bent her head closer to get a look at me. "And that's a fine looking tiny," she said, stroking my head gently with the tip of her finger. Her cherry-smelling breath wafted overme from this distance, and I felt nervous as her almond-shaped eyes darted up and down over my nude form. She moved her hand away from me, but gently stroked her thumb against my crotch as she did, as if she was trying to make it seem accidental.

"Well, he belongs to my wife, of course," said Mr. Fujiwara, scooping me up. "But I'll come back another day for that necklace."

Mr. Fujiwara dumped me in the pocket of his pants as he walked around some more. I heard fabric always shuffling around me as the giant's legs moved him around the giant-sized shopping mall.

Finally, he extracted me and placed me on a table beside a piece of the protein food to make tinies stronger. I was hungry and ate quickly. Then, his almond-shaped eyes fixed back on his paper bowl of ice cream. In between shoving gallons of ice cream into his maw, the giant kept staring down at me. Finally, he dabbed his vast lips and leaned back in his chair.

I looked all around me. Everyone seemed so far away, but there were giant people everywhere, eating tons and tons of food, laughing, and talking. Occasionally, people who glance at me as they walked by the table, and they would sometimes be holding tinies of their own.

I started to feel the urge to urinate and started fidgeting as I stood. Mr. Fujiwara leaned over me. "I need to pee," I shouted up to his stern face.

"Here, you can pee in the cup," he said. His two huge fingers plucked me up and set me on the tip of his finger, right above the empty cup of ice cream, which just had some streaks of melted ice cream on the sides and bottom. I sat there on the ridged pad of his finger, but I just couldn't piss, not with these giant people.

"I can't... all these giant people everywhere," I said.

"Well, there's a restroom just around the corner," said the giant, and he plucked me up between his fingers again as he strode off toward the restroom.

He entered a stall and placed me safely down on the front of the seat, with plenty of distance from the inner and outer edges. I knew Mr. Fujiwara didn't really care about me, but he cared about his wife and whether she would get mad if something happened to me.

I walked forward, the porcelain lukewarm against my feet, and soon stared down at the enormous pool of water at the bottom of the toilet. I turned around, and Mr. Fujiwara was still standing there, staring at me expectantly. "I need to be alone," I said, frightened by the giant man hovering over my tiny body.

"I'll watch the door," he said, exiting and closing the stall door. Within a moment, I was able to relax and start urinating into the giant clear pool of water.

However, I heard voices outside, and Mr. Fujiwara said, "Stop, there's someone in there."

"Really?" the other person said and nudge open the door. "Seems empty to me."

"No, stop!"

The man entered and shut and locked the stall behind him, ignoring Mr. Fujiwara's banging on the door.

The man looked to be about thirty. He had chubby features, short hair, and was quite fat. He pulled his shirt off, revealing a prodigious gut, which he lifted his bronze-colored arm to rub with his hand. He used the shirt to dab at the sweat on his face.

I couldn't decide what to do. Should I run and jump, hoping I would be able to make it out without being stepped on? But more people were coming into the restroom. It was dangerous. I waved my arms, hoping he would see me. However, the giant just looked down as he unzipped his black shorts. The loud unzipping sound froze me, and he then slowly slipped off his underwear. Still not noticing me, the giant walked forward, turned, and plopped his ass on the toilet seat. I managed to duck down as his balls went over me, but the base of his dick collided with me, and I quickly grabbed onto it before I could get knocked into the toilet.

His dick was significantly shorter than Mr. Fujiwara's, and smoother, so it was harder to maintain a grip. I could see the dark penis head just ahead of me. I squeezed onto the flesh of the underside of his penis, while I kept trying to swing and kick my legs so I could climb up. I could hardly see though, as his thighs and ass blocked out most of the light, and his hanging gut blocked most of the rest.

With his dick pointed down to pee, I could feel the urine rush under his skin, and I stared back at the red knob, where a dark yellow jet stream sprayed out. As I stared, slight amounts of pee splashed off the water and side of the bowl and onto me. The smell of urine quickly became so strong, especially with me practically sealed into the toilet bowl, that I started to gag. Finally, the jet stream stopped, but the stench remained, and my hands threatened to lose their grip. I managed to swing up onto his penis, however, and shimmied down near the penis head. With one hand, I gripped the shaft, and with the other the edge of his enormous penis head. I stared down at my own penis, which was completely dwarfed by this unaware giant's massive genitals.

I could see his ass moving, squeezing and unsqueezing, and I could hear a slimy sound from his ass and a faint bubbling and gurgling from deep within his bowels. Every so often, the man would give a grunt, while his ass struggled to overcome constipation. I was thankful when he finally stood up and flushed. He quickly pulled his underwear up back over his giant genitals, but right then Mr. Fujiwara managed to open the door.

"Did you see a tiny man?" I heard Mr. Fujiwara ask.

"No, I didn't," I heard from my unaware captor.

I could hear Mr. Fujiwara moving around, probably looking for me. Suddenly, I felt the man's enormous digits prod and scratch at me, and he muttered, "Stupid itch."

The digits forced me into his penis and roughly scraped me against it. I was forced to let go, and I tumbled onto the bottom of his underwear, right against his shaved balls. I steadied my hand against the rough surface of his enormous ballsack, which weighed many times more than me.

The fingers returned, scratching at me harder this time and forcing me into the thick skin of his ballsack. I ended up slightly behind and below it, my legs mostly pinned between it and the underwear. The rest of me lay in the sweaty rear of his underpants, and my face was shoved into his fatty ass cheek. I pushed away from it, and it yielded easily. His ass was larger and softer than Mrs. Fujiwara's, but right now, his huge, mighty ass threatened to smother me. I scooted up further and ended up face-first in a sweaty brown stain. Immediately, the smell of shit hit me, and I gagged and tried to wipe the mix of sweat and feces from my face. Up above me, from between his pillow-like ass cheeks, a gust of hot wind blew down with a soft "pfft," enhancing the shitty smell. I felt the fingers scratch against me again, this time smothering me in his soft, hairless ass fat.

"Wait a second," Mr. Fujiwara said. "You keep scratching..."

The man reached down his underwear, and his fat hand found me and grabbed my tiny body.

I immediately exploded as Mr. Fujiwara lowered his face down to me. "Why didn't you try harder to stop him! I could've been flushed down the toilet, or kidnapped."

"I could squash you with my pinky, tiny man, or make a snack out of you, so you have no right to yell at me," he growled. "Maybe you need to learn a lesson. Have you ever owned a tiny before?" he asked the man.

"No!" I shouted.

"I used to have this American girl. I got her for my birthday. She was helpful cleaning the crevices of my fat, though I would often have to punish her for calling me a fat slob with a small dick." He sank his hand into the fat of his belly, and it gave a monstrous gurgle. "I ended up eating her by mistake. I was just swallowing all these cupcakes really fast, and I don't really think while doing that, but I later realized she had fallen into one of them. It made me sad though, because apparently she hated having to live with me so much she would rather die digesting in the fat belly she hated, and surrounded by tons of junk food I had just eaten as well, all in a disgusting digestive goop. With all that food, I think the digestion was slow. I could barely feel a tickle an hour later when I realized what I had done, but her struggling quickly stopped."

"You can't give me to him," I said to Mr. Fujiwara. "Your wife will be mad. And I know about those new tinies you ordered from Southeast Asia. If you're responsible for me disappearing, she'll force you to share those tiny bitches with her, and she'll probably make them disappear too."

Mr. Fujiwara reluctantly conceded that I was right and departed, but he was still angry. He held me up to his bespectacled eyes and jabbed at my crotch. "Look at your practically invisible dick," he said while rinsing me off. "You're so tiny, that against that man's genitals you were just 'a scratch' haha. That's the only reason my wife likes you, because you're a tiny pathetic little insect to pity."

We returned to find Mrs. Fujiwara relaxed and happy from her spa. Mr. Fujiwara had warned me not to tell her anything about what happened. In a good mood, Mrs. Fujiwara winked at me and told me to be creative, as she shoved me into her underwear as they walked to the car. The familiar misk of her vagina, and its warmth drew me in. I nibbled at the enormous, flapped lips of her vagina. I kissed its brownish fringes and started shoving my arm in and out of her slit. I could hear a faint moan occasionally from above, and my arm soon became slick and sticky. I finally dove in with my whole body, and I could feel her fingers carressing me from outside. I fought her walls, which pulsated and squeezed me, as I slid upward to her clitoris. I caressed and massaged the slimy bauble, rubbing every part of my body against its warmth. As soon as she got home, Mrs. Fujiwara climaxed, and she extracted me again, placing me into a soapy bowl of water to clean me from her feminine liquids.