I can’t get him out!!! A desperate Cantlutloche realized after a few moments of squatting in the bathroom stall, as the weak voice of the man up her pussy pleaded with her, she trying to reassure him.
“Shhh… Shhh… just be still… I’ll get you out… just… don’t move… please”
Her fingers confirmed what she already felt: he was deeper than intended. He also felt too slippery, and she could not find any place to grab him beside his head, and of course she could not grab him there, he could die! I should have tied a string around his chest. But she had not thought of that in her agitation.
The enormity of what she had done was dawning on her now. I should have thought this through. She had taken a man… a man she just met and forcibly stuck him up her cunt. What was she thinking? What did it say of her as a person, as a woman, that the only plan she could come up with was so… obscene?
When he was all the way in, she had used her hand mirror to see the bizarre scene of Paah-tshoh tiny head barely sticking out of her, hugged by her labia. It was then she had been taken aback she had actually pulled such a aberrant stunt. Holy shit… what have I done… The worst was that she gave him no say in the matter, and she had no Plan B. Well, he seemed willing enough to go along, he gaped at your cleavage as if your tits were made of gold… one part of her mind said, the other replying, accusingly: you would have shoved him in there either way. And… There was no choice… they would have found him… another inner voice whispered. It was true enough that her silly gamble with the fake menses had, amazingly, worked… just barely.
He must think I am a huge slut, crass, disgusting… a monster… It was true that when he was atop the table, she deliberately positioned herself so he could see her cleavage… and she had gauged his reactions as positive. That encouraged her to go along with her plan. And she had felt such a thrill of… power? when she took her clothes in front of him… I saw his little thing rise as he looked at me lick my fingers to smear his legs with saliva… But it was true enough that before that he had tried to escape… it had been too long since she had been with a man…. thinking with your vagina is never a good idea.
And there was no going back now… she did not want to imagine what he must be feeling and thinking as he was forced inside a sloppy, stinky, furry giant cunt. Shuddering, she felt like she could die of shame… and she was so… hairy down there. She had postponed grooming as she had no money to go to the beach… why bother, she had said. They say a prideful tongue becomes the whip of the fool.
After he was inside, her agitation had grown worse and worse as she felt herself get embarrassingly wet as he squirmed inside her. It was very difficult to think clearly when her vagina was demanding so much attention… when it was being stimulated so. When he touched her clit she almost screamed in delight. My gods, he feels so RIGHT in there… Every step she took increased the sensations. The few minutes with the patrollers were sheer torture. Her legs felt weak and rubbery, and her cunt spasmed with delight every time the little man changed position, clearly uncomfortable. She did not know how she managed to suppress the whimpers bubbling out in her throat. By the end of the patroller’s episode, sweat was pouring down her back, and she could feel moisture seeping between her legs, her clit on fire. She did not even have the energy to be mad at Jablo. She just wanted to feel more of her little man.
But coming to the bathroom had been a mistake. It was too far from her room, she had to walk too far and that was clearly dangerous for him: she could feel each step she took squeezed him. The bathroom was cramped, other girls were around and she did not have her medical tools. I should have gone to my room…there I could lay on the bed and spread myself better. By now Paah-tshoh was not responding to her words anymore, and he had stopped squirming. Suddenly, her cunt pulsated, and she felt him go deeper. Noooo! I have to do something now, or he’ll suffocate… be crushed inside me! There was no time to go to her room… Fighting down panic, she lowered her hands to her crotch and inserted the index finger of each hand on each side of her pussy hole, and spread herself so much it hurt. Then she concentrated on her vagina and squeezed from inside. She felt him slid out a little. Encouraged, she clenched again. He pushed out a bit. Progress was glacial, and after a few minutes of this, an eternity to her, his shoulders popped out.
Ahhh… she moaned, teeth clenched. There could be people around. His movements in her vagina were maddeningly good… so… difficult to focus…
She heard him moan in pain and then she felt his tiny hands pushing around her vulva, and squirming to set himself free, eliciting more intense and pleasurable pulsations from inside her. She lowered her hand just as in his struggles to extricate himself, his hand pushed on her clit and her pussy spit him out with a last, powerful and unexpected clench. Cantlutloche barely managed to grab his slippery body before he hit the hard, mosaic floor. Her pussy throbbed, almost painfully empty.
Cantlutloche raised the limp, tiny form to her face laying on her left palm. His face was disturbingly pale, and she noted, alarmed, that his left arm was in an unnatural position. Dislocated? His whole body was coated in a sticky, transparent goo. His face, eyes, mouth and nose were also covered with the embarrassing stuff, dripping off him: he stank of vagina. She noted with chagrin that her vagina kept leaking the same fluids even after the little man was out. First, she used her fingers to clean the little man’s face, so he could breathe better.
Then, she took one of the wiping loofas and wiped herself until she was satisfied she would not look like she had pissed herself when she pulled up her leggings; the loofa seemed too coarse to clean him, though. She waited, anxiously, until he opened his eyes. He seemed to be exhausted, but he managed a smile and a tired laugh, and also he waved his hand weakly with his good arm. She laughed a bit also. This situation is so ridiculous! Glad that he was not angry at her, or worse, afraid, she stood up, pulled her leggings up in place. I’ll wash him in my room and we’ll have a look at his arm.
As her tight dress had no pockets, she just pulled her neckline aside and carefully lowered him there. He’s soaked! She though, embarrassed. How can I face him after I did this? He was trembling. She got out of the stall, seeing with relief no one was around, washed her hands and hurried to the common kitchen to get a small pot and rags to clean Paah-tshoh in the privacy of her room.