Adnah lay in his feminine prison, every so often regaining consciousness for brief periods, only to slowly sink back into darkness.  He felt the moist softness rubbing against him, and then the cool air on his legs.  Two vices gripped his legs, pulling him out, the heat of her replaced by the mere warmth of the room.  He was lifted, inverted, back over the familiar feminine territory.  His slow labored breaths were interrupted by a massive flow of warm air.

        Bititi exhaled slowly, using the warmest breath she had.  Her little man’s breathing ceased as she dangled him over her puffy lips.  She turned him, continuing the process until her liquids were dry, caked on her toy.  She smiled, he had been properly marked.  She sat up on the bed, placing him on the nightstand.  Opening his eyes with difficulty, Adnah began to rise, using his arms to first complete a sitting stance.

        Bititi’s hand moved to the nightstand.  She picked up a silver candelabrum, stocked with a pure white candle.  She fumbled around before finding the flint and striker.  She struck the two over the wick, lighting it on the first strike.  Even as dazed as he was, Adnah gasped.  Lighting a fire with a flint took several strikes, lighting the miniscule wick should’ve been near impossible.  His titaness smiled at his amazement. 

        “A gift from the Goddess, much like you.”

        She stared, mesmerized by the flame.  It stood tall, dancing slowly left, then right.  It grew taller, shrank, stood still, then danced anew.  While familiar, its dance was never the same.  Adnah gazed at the hips he had become intimate with, then upwards to the fire, squinting, trying to understand what she saw in the orange glow.

        “Thank you, through your efforts I am saved,” she said reverentially.

        “You are most welcome,” Adnah replied with effort.

        She blinked, startled.  She looked down at the tiny man, a scornful smile on her lips.

        “I was speaking to the Goddess, not you Little One,” she explained matter of factly.

        “B, but, I was the one who saved you,” he argued.

        “The Goddess used you to save me.  What you consider your actions, were in truth Her plans for me.”

        She chuckled at his perplexed expression.  Tired, beaten by her pussy as he was, he could still manage some physical exertion.  Standing shakily to his feet, he looked reproachfully into her eyes.  Bititi peered back into the incandescent flame.

        “This is my Goddess, she is very similar to your Goddess,” she said, patting her sex, “They are both ravenous and consume whatever they touch.  They both wax with emotion, grow ever more tumultuous from their passions, and from their inner depths bequeath new life.”

        She lowered the candelabrum back to the table and rose, her bronze skin glistening.  Adnah stood engrossed as she delved through his mother’s belongings, before dressing herself in one of Sauda’s crimson robes.  She looked at him, deftly using the robe to conceal and reveal her grinning face.  Still smirking, she rummaged more, searching for something specific.  She walked back over to the nightstand, long thin fabric strands in her hand.

        “Now, I shall make good our escape.”

        She took the cords and began tying them to his hands and feet.  With only the strength to stand, Adnah gave no resistance.  He watched disinterestedly, this was an old situation he was well acquainted with.  She tied a length of the cord around her voluptuous waist.

        Her eyes displayed that mischievous sparkle as she lifted Adnah by his ropes.  His wrists pulling the rest of his weight after them.  She brought the tiny man to a now common sight, her massive vulva, dripping in anticipation.  He stared at his former prison, hanging only feet from its warm embrace.  His captor adjusted his height until he was directly facing it.  She yoked the ropes fast before reaching from behind, between her legs, grabbing the cords attached to his ankles.

        She pulled the cords tight, positioning him onto, into, her lower lips, tying his leg bindings to the rear of the cord around her waist.  She took several tentative steps, observing and feeling how his bonds held him.  She cooed and rubbed his face into her womanhood.

        “Oooohh,” she moaned, her face glowed with a malevolent satisfaction, “As I faithfully serve my Goddess, so shall you yours.”

        She patted him once more for good measure before lowering her new mantle over her improvised thong.  Adnah’s vision was darkened, by turning his head he could observe the ground below and her columnous thighs clothed in dark red.  Even without facing her massive womanhood, he could not escape her taste, every step out of the door reverberating his body against it.

        He saw, felt, her descend the steps, pass one or two patrons, and exit unhindered through the entrance.  The sounds of people trading, animals, and that frothy sound assaulted his senses.  He turned his head back to the slit that now ruled him.  He almost cried, but this was not his first degradation, he would not be undone by this torment.  His thirst consumed him, her intimate smell still enticing and exotic.  He closed his eyes and pushed his head forward, burrowing deeper into the lips.  Her flow stopped along with her gait, pulled inward by the sudden clenching of her walls.  He knew what needed to be done.  He forcefully swirled his head, his tongue lapping at her. 

        Bititi stood, frozen in disbelief, all at once she felt her little man push into her.  She clenched tight at his actions, the feeling sublime.  She waited for him to pull back or her sex to unclench but instead, she felt a gentle circling and the small tongue inside of her labia.  Ecstasy instantly took over, she moaned.  Regaining her power of motion, she ducked into an abandoned alley.  He was moving faster, rougher.  Bititi reached down and began rubbing him from toe to head into her pussy.  She repeated in unison with his own motions.

        Her juices spewed forth and he greedily lapped them up, slaking his thirst.  The sweet nectar gave him renewed strength, he slammed his head forward and, as much as he could, bucked his hips into her.  Her soft hand massaged him deeper in, her sex embracing him.  He was under her power, but through prior experiences, he knew he could still perform some manipulation.  He smiled as his constant twerks strained his neck, his hands and ankles being pulled almost out of their sockets.  Even if he broke, even if it were only for an instant, he would exert some control of his own over his exquisite captress.

        The strain on his body was becoming too much for Adnah.  He continued to jerk and thrash his head, but in slower, more fatigued motions.  His giantess’ self-gratification using his body was luckily enough for her to climax, her cum streaming onto him, Adnah relished in his victory only momentarily.  His joy was cut short by a massive hot blast of liquid into his face.  The pleasure was too much for the titaness to contain, causing her bladder to release.  The piss pushed Adnah’s head back, the stream grating like sandpaper on his cheeks.  The golden liquid that hit his face flowed down his supine body, drenching him in the acrid ammonia smell. 

        Bititi gasped, her cum and piss washing down her long, toned legs.  She leaned, her back against a wall, desperately trying to breathe.  It wasn’t the greatest sexual delight of her life, but it had been the most unexpected.  She had woken up to men about to have their way with her, but never had she been this surprised, this aroused.  She gaped down at her groin, vainly attempting to glimpse her toy through the fabric. 

        She smiled broadly, as she used the bottom inner lining of the garment to wipe away the foul liquids.  She kept massaging his limp body as she exited the alley.  While she had many plans for her tiny toy, she wondered what other unanticipated delights he might bring.

        For the rest of her walk Adnah noticed only his urine, cum soaked world.  He grunted, achingly as every step racked his limbs and pushed him into his goddess.  Time stretched for what felt like hours until he heard the female colossus haggling with a masculine voice.

        “…no, but I have other goods to trade.”

        “That is your problem not mine, coin, no trades.”

        “There are things far more valuable, especially on a long voyage,” the body leaned forward.

        “Hhmm, coin is more solid.”

        “Are these not?  And this thing of yours?”  Adnah turned to see a bulge against her robe.

        There was breathing, skin against skin.

        “…maybe…”

        “There is nothing worse than an indecisive man, perhaps you have other arrangements with your men?” the honeysuckle voice egged on her target.

        “You damn whore, I will…”

        She quieted him, “Shh, do not use your mouth to punish me, why not teach this woman a lesson below decks, once we are under way?”

        The moment stretched in silence.

        “Get on, you will have quarters, but I doubt you will find rest on this voyage,” the manly voice threatened in a gravely tone.

        Even in his dark position, he could hear her mischievous smile, “My door will always be open, though I doubt if you or your crew are man enough to actually fatigue me.”

        She followed the man up an inclined wooden board onto the vessel.  Adnah observed as they entered the ship, went down several sets of stairs, and then past many casks and crates, sometimes squeezing for passage.  The man’s footsteps echoed away as Bititi entered a small room.  He felt her turn once before hearing a slight wooden partition being moved.  Dim light illuminated the room as she threw off her robe. 

        Reaching down she undid the cords tying his legs, followed by those holding his arms.  His body remained stuck to her sex, the dried excretions holding him firm.  She laughed as she pulled him off, out, of her.  She held the tiny, sticky man before her luminous face.

        “You are absolutely filthy,” another, deeper laugh, “Perhaps if you had not performed your little trick you would not appear so pitiful.”

        He looked around at their abode, a small room with an old rickety dresser, empty used bowls, jugs, a worn, dirty mat for sleeping, and a freshly emptied chamber pot.  His eyes gaped and he futilely struggled against her hand as she lowered him over the latter.  He let out a raspy scream as he landed in the dank, smelly container.

        “You stay there for now, we can clean you later,” she said, walking around, inspecting her quarters.

        Adnah choked on the smell as he lay utterly exhausted.  He had no energy for any acts of defiance or self-determination, his raised head fell forward, his consciousness gone before it smacked the wet, putrid ground.