Property 2
copyright PoisonPen, August 2020


Though it had only been a few minutes since Darcy had shrunk the four co-eds with her amazing and perplexing perfume atomizer, it felt to her like a decade had passed.  Every detail was stark in her mind, like her brain was impressing each thought into permanent storage, to be brought out and examined again and again in the years to come.  Darcy shook herself out of her pleasurably dazed afterglow and looked around the grubby apartment.  Everything around her would have to go, and quickly.  Where to start?

Darcy stood awkwardly, keeping her weight off her right foot, where the soft, warm, squishy form of the tiny blonde girl, Dina, still squirmed against the imprisoning pink sole.  Before she did anything, she’d have to put her little captive somewhere.  She could just shove her back into the purse with the two other girls, but she didn’t like the idea of them giving comfort to each other; she wanted them all terrified.  Hobbling, she made her way to the filthy bathroom the girls shared.  She shook her head.  Cheap plastic shower curtains only partially shielded the uncleaned tub from view, and the toilet was stained and crusty.  Random assortments of makeup lay strewn over the counter.  Darcy opened the medicine cabinet, not sure what she was looking for, and her gaze fell upon a spool of medical tape.  She smiled.  Perfect.

Carefully putting the lid down first with a grimace of distaste, Darcy sat down on the toilet and crossed her right leg across her left.  By arching her foot in the strappy sandal and hooking a forefinger underneath, she was able to fish the tiny blonde co-ed out.  Freed from the immense pressure of the large woman’s sole, the girl began to struggle in earnest.

“Oh stop,” said Darcy, giving the girl a painful squeeze between thumb and index finger.  A tiny chirp of pain was elicited, giving Darcy a pleasant tingle of dominance.  She lifted the little form to her face, right before her eyes, where she could see the girl’s expression.  She very much wanted to see it when she next spoke.  “You’re probably wondering how you got so small and, to be honest, I don’t really know.  But I’m enjoying it a whole lot, and I intend to enjoy you a whole lot too.  No, I’m not a lesbo, but you know, being able to do anything I want with you makes me wetter than the fucking Pacific.”

The tiny girl was alternating between tears and terror, shaking her head and wriggling her dangling legs, beating ineffectually at Darcy’s imprisoning fingers with her little fists.  Darcy smiled, baring her teeth in a savage grin.

“I already raped the hell out of Sunny, you know,” said Darcy cheerfully.  “I shoved her right inside my pussy.  Right inside it.  That was weird, but it turned me right the fuck on.  And then you know what I did?”

The little blonde girl had stopped struggling now and was staring at Darcy’s enormous eyes, her own eyes rimmed with white with fear.

Darcy licked her lips, slowly, leaving her red lipstick glistening.  “I ate her.  Gobbled her right up.  Just popped her in my mouth and ate her whole, like an oyster.”

Darcy lowered her little captive and, lifting the bottom of her blouse, pressed the tiny girl against her belly.

“Can you hear her?  She’s inside me right now.  I’m going to digest her and no one will ever see her again and I’ll shit out her little bones.  Think about that.  I can fucking eat you.  Eat you.  Like a piece of fucking candy.”

Darcy drew the girl back up, delighted at the expression of utter horror and shock on the tiny face.  “So play nice unless you want to join Sunny in my tummy.  In fact, you may end up there anyway.  We’ll see.  But first...”

Darcy was enjoying the thrill of dominating this well-built blonde bimbo, and she’d put some thought into the most humiliating places she could stash the girl.  She’d already had the girl in her shoe, and her pussy was still a little too sensitive to want to stimulate it again so soon.  Between her breasts, maybe?  But Darcy thought that might be a little too comfortable, and she wanted the girl to feel helpless.  Then she’d seen the roll of white medical tape and known instantly how to use it.  Pinching her captive in her fingers, she carefully worked the girl inside the collar of her blouse, down, and then to the side.  Darcy lifted her free arm slightly, slid the girl’s body into her armpit, then lowered her arm again, trapping the girl in the dank and sweat-moistened hollow.  When she had both her hands free and could feel the sliding the hot little body against her armpit as the girl struggled in the sudden darkness, she ripped off a piece of the tape.  Then Darcy went back inside her blouse and, lifting her arm just slightly, applied the tape against her captive’s naked back, binding her face-first into the rank, sweaty flesh of her armpit.

For a few seconds Darcy just sat and smiled, concentrating on two unusual new sensations: little flutters and tics from inside her, just under her left breast, where a tiny Korean girl fought for her life, and the light dimpling of her sensitive armpit flesh from the face and soft boobs and hips of the pinioned and imprisoned blonde captive there.

Darcy rose and straightened her clothes.  In the smudged mirror she carefully rearranged her hair, ran her tongue over her lips to make sure her lipstick was smooth, and rebuttoned her blazer.  When she was satisfied that she looked proper and decent, Darcy strode purposefully out into the apartment, took up the perfume atomizer, and began misting the whole place from wall to wall.

It took only a minute to clear the main part of the apartment.  Darcy sacrificed the carpet (which would need to be replaced anyway, she reckoned) and just filled the whole room with mist, making sure to stand well clear in the kitchen.  The room, all the furniture, the stereo, the television, all the assorted trash, it all shrivelled away to dollhouse proportions in the middle of the room on the scuffed hardwood flooring underneath.  The carpet was about eight inches square when Darcy was done, and she simply rolled it up.  She crumpled the carpet into a ball in her fist and squeezed, enjoying the crunching, crackling sensation of furniture snapping easier than matchsticks, compressed into a ball the size of a tangerine.  This she deposited in the pocket of her blazer, to be discarded in a trash bin.

Pleased at how easy it had been, Darcy walked into the nearest bedroom, the one the blonde girl Dina had emerged from -- and froze.  There was a person-sized lump on the bed, completely covered in a tangle of blankets which rose and fell softly to the accompaniment of quiet masculine snorts and snores.

An icy shard of fear had worked a cold finger into Darcy’s heart and she staggered back out of the bedroom.  Whoever this was, he’d been here the whole time, could have come out and see Darcy at any time if he’d woken up.  He had not, but the possibility made Darcy shiver as she realized how far down the rabbit hole she’d gone.  She had a living person being digested in her stomach for chrissakes!  This man not only could have witnessed Darcy fucking herself with a tiny woman, he could still wake at any second and see Darcy there in flagrante delicto.  There was absolutely no way Darcy could allow this man to see her.  To see anything at all.  Realizing that events were escalating rapidly, Darcy re-entered the bedroom with a hammering heart raised the atomizer, and misted the whole bed, occupant and all.

Darcy’s heart slowed from a gallop to a brisk trot as she watched the bed -- and the possibility of being caught -- dwindle down.  She approached the tiny bed, bent down, and ever-so-gentle lifted it from the floor to avoid disturbing the slumbering form, though, if he’d slept through the noise of everything else, he must be a heavy sleeper.  Darcy bent down and sniffed, caught the scent of beer and bed farts.  That accounted for why he had slept through the music, the door banging, the baseball assault, and Darcy’s gasps and moans of sexual pleasure.  Holding the bed in one hand, Darcy pinched the blankets with the other and gently tugged, revealing the form beneath.

He was young, muscularly built, and while his jaw was stubbly, he looked like he probably shaved his chest.  Little tufts of black showed his armpits, at least were unshaven.  Hardly daring to breathe, Darcy used a forefinger to turn the young man, who was sleeping curled foetally on his side, flopping him over onto his back.  To Darcy’s quick pleasure, she saw that he was immensely well hung, uncut, and with an impressively-sized ballsack -- all nicely shaved smooth and clean.  Given his build, Darcy guessed he was an athlete of some kind.  Not a body builder, but maybe a football or rugby player.  Absently she allowed the fleshy pad of her forefinger to trace a path down the tiny figure’s chest to his flaccid cock lying limp across one leg.  At the first contact with his manhood, the little form sat bolt-upright on both arms at the waist and stared with stunned amazement at the gargantuan female face like a hot air balloon looking down at him.

“Hello,” said Darcy, grinning.  “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.  You are the jackpot tonight.  You and me, we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

The little man finally made a lunge for the side of the bed, where he’d have tumbled to his death, and Darcy had to move quickly to snatch him up, managing to grab one firmly-muscled calf and jerk him up, letting the bed drop unheeded to the floor to shatter into splinters, its mattress like a piece of discarded bread.  Darcy held the man up, dangling naked by one leg, inverted, arms waving and outraged squeaks emerging.  He was a bit bigger than the girls, about two and a half inches, perhaps as big as Darcy’s little finger.  She could see her first impression had been correct, that the man was attractive and well put together, with a strong jaw on a youthful face.  He could even be as young as his late teens, Darcy thought.  She loved younger men.  She couldn’t wait to use him and utterly unman him.  She licked her lips in anticipation, causing the little man to grow still and fearful.

“Oh don’t worry,” said Darcy playfully, “I won’t eat you.  I’ve already made a snack of one of the girls!  No, not your girlfriend,” she added at the sudden look of terror on the boy’s face.  She’s...”

And Darcy paused there, remembering the blonde girl still squirming enjoyably in her left armpit, and decided right there how she’d begin the process of breaking her new toy.  She returned to the bathroom and repeated the earlier process on the opposite side, working the tiny man -- fighting and chirping and pinwheeling as he dangled by one leg -- into her other armpit.  Once again she held her captive in place, then glued him face-first into the sweat-damp hollow with a piece of medical tape.  Darcy looked in the mirror and marvelled at the fact that two entire human beings were hidden under her arms and a third was dying slowly in her belly, and not a single hair was out of place and no person could possibly tell.  It made her horny just thinking about it and decided to hurry the job of clearing the apartment so she could return home to her own apartment and have some fun.

The job went quickly as Darcy methodically shrank the contents of each room.  She found a ragged broom in the kitchen and used it to sweep the miniaturized contents of each of the bedrooms into a large heap.  She went through the cupboards and refrigerator in the kitchen and dumped everything roughly into a heap on the cheap formica table, not caring about the mess or the broken glass.  Then she shrank the whole table and swept it, too, into the pile in the living room.  Finally she miniaturized the contents of the bathroom, leaving only the appliances.  The roll of medical tape she dropped in her pocket, knowing now its usefulness.

Once the apartment was bare, its previous furnishings now a messy heap three inches high, Darcy planted the sole of her sandal atop and pressed hard with all her weight.  It crunched satisfyingly like peanut shells as she easily flattened it all.  She shivered with delight at the feeling of all that furniture collapsing to fragments and the sense of power it gave her.  When she lifted her foot away, nothing recognizable remained.  She swept the detritus into a paper cup she’d rescued from the kitchen and looked around.  The apartment would need a good cleaning, but she had a company she paid to do that.  She was amazed to know that an hour earlier the apartment had been full and occupied.  This things, this atomizer, was going to make her job a lot easier.

Darcy let herself out and locked the door behind her.  There was no one in the hallway to see her leaving, the residents probably just relieved the thundering music had stopped.  She deposited the paper cup and balled-up carpet into the trash can at the elevator while she waited for the car, thinking about the sensations coming from her armpits.  When it arrived she got in and pressed the button for the ground floor, where her own apartment was and thought about whether to stop at her office first to do some paperwork for the now-empty unit.  She was still lost in her thoughts when the doors opened with a ding and the smell of hot pepperoni wafted in, followed by a pimply young man in the livery of a local pizza chain, insulated bag in one arm.  She recognized him vaguely, having seen him coming and going in the past.

Wordlessly the man pushed past Darcy, expecting her to leave.  On a hunch she put her hand out to block the doors from closing.  “Where is that going?”

The delivery boy checked the receipt on top of the bag.  He knew who Darcy was, she having let him into the building a few times.  “Uh... 1205.”

Darcy sighed and let the door go, remaining in the elevator.  The door closed.  Someone in the apartment had ordered a pizza, and there’s no way she could allow a failed delivery to alert the police to the precise time coinciding with people remembering when they’d called down a complaint to the building manager.  She stared at the delivery boy as the elevator rose, causing him to shuffle his feet nervously, trying not to look at the woman’s prominent decolletage visible through the front of her blazer.  She drew the perfume atomizer from her pocket and misted it over the man.  Instantly he dwindled into a two-inch doll on the dirty metal floor.  He gawked up at the suddenly gargantuan building manager, pizza still in his arms.

Darcy pondered.  He was scrawny, short, and with angry eruptions of acne on his cheeks.  Definitely not Darcy’s type.  The elevator was nearing the twelfth floor and Darcy had to make a decision.  She remembered the sensation of furniture cracking and collapsing under her shoe.  With a totally neutral expression, she tipped her right foot back on its enormous four-inch spike heel, then pivoted to point the hard sole directly at the little two-inch delivery boy.  Clearly stunned and beyond the capacity for action, he never moved as she gently lowered her sandal back down atop him, knocking him backward so that he found himself immobilized face-to-sole.  Tiny chirps announced what Darcy knew would be begging and pleading.  Darcy closed her eyes and began leaning her weight forward, concentrating on the feeling of slight motion under her sandal.  The movements became more frantic as the weight increased, and Darcy shifted the weight from side to side so she could sense the exact size and shape of what lay beneath her sandal.  Then, biting her lower lip, she pressed down... hard.

Darcy heard the crunch, but it was what she felt which made her damp.  She could feel the resistance first of the man’s legs, then his hips.  It was his hips which snapped first, allowing the sole of the shoe to press next onto the little figure’s ribcage.  This provided a slight resistance which first bent under tension, then gave way all at once.  The sole dropped until only a small, hard lump -- the man’s head -- provided resistance.  Darcy dropped her full weight down and was rewarded with a sharp crackling report as his skull flattened, shooting a tiny squirt of pinkish brain matter out the front of the sandal, contrasting against the dull grey of the metal floor and the shiny red of Darcy’s toenails.

A ding announced that the elevator had reached the twelfth floor.  The door slid open to an empty hallway, then closed again.  Darcy pressed the first floor button again and looked down.  A thin rivulet of blood was leaking out from under her sandal.  Darcy twisted her foot sideways, revealing a vaguely man-shaped outline with flattened shards of bone and greyish-pink mangled, internal organs embedded in greasy, raw flesh.  An eyeball extended on a thread of optic nerve, forced under pressure from the collapsing skull.  After a single glimpse at this horrific sight, Darcy lowered her sandal back down and twisted savagely, lifting up the heel and using her whole weight to completely obliterate the mess of ravaged flesh and bone.  When she lifted her sandal this time, there was nothing recognizable, just a smear of pink and red.  Darcy smiled and bent down, drawing out some tissues from her blazer pocket.  By the time the doors opened at the first floor, she’d wiped up all but a faint smudge of rapidly-darkening blood from the floor and completely removed any sign from the bottom of her shoe that she’d just murdered a man with nothing but a slight movement of her foot.

The remains of the unfortunate deliveryman were deposited into the trash as Darcy made her way to the front doors of the building and into the parking lot beyond.  She found the driver’s small delivery vehicle idling outside in a no-stopping zone and frowned.  After looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, she drew out the atomizer again and shrank the vehicle to the size of a toy.  Picking it up, holding it in the palm of her hand, she noticed the weight and heft of the vehicle which made it significantly different from a toy.  The heat of the exhaust played over her palm uncomfortably.  The car would have to vanish.  The police would come nosing around but there would be nothing to find.  With any luck, the disappearance of the girls would go unreported for long enough that the police wouldn’t link it to the missing pizza delivery driver.  There wouldn’t be evidence of anything anyway, but Darcy didn’t want the headache of dealing with an investigation.  Her job was hard enough.  Using both her hands, one hand on the hood and the other on the rear hatch, Darcy twisted the vehicle.  It was much tougher than flesh and bone, but it didn’t have much resistance to torsion and it crumpled almost at once, its engine sputtering out.  Flexing her arms and painfully compressing the little people trapped in her armpits, Darcy twisted and and then pressed her hands together, mangling the tiny car and sending a shower of sand-like particles of safety glass to the ground.  The engine would not compress, but the rest of the vehicle became a crumpled shell around it, surrounding it and hiding it.

Gasoline trickled merrily between Darcy’s fingers, and she was forced to hold the ball of mangled metal away from her until she re-entered the building and tossed it into the same trash where she’d disposed of its driver.  They would share the same final grave at the landfill eventually.

Darcy made a quick detour to her office, where she removed the CD recording of the CCTV recordings for today, replacing it with one from a few weeks earlier.  She was about to try to break the CD with her hands when she chuckled at herself and shrank it to the size of an aspirin, tossed it into her mouth case and all, and ground it between her molars before swallowing the shards.  Her stomach was becoming a convenient way to dispose of inconveniences.

By the time Darcy finally made it back to her apartment, she had expected to see her daughter, Samantha there.  Frowning at her absence, Darcy checked her phone and saw Sam had sent her a text telling her she’d be staying over with a friend.  Darcy made a moue of annoyance.  She gave Sam a lot of independence.  It wasn’t exactly forbidden for her to stay the night with a friend, particularly on a weekend, but she was expected to at least tell her which friend.  Darcy suspected her daughter was sexually active.  Sam had come out as bisexual, and Darcy didn’t care if the girl fooled around with other girls, but she really didn’t want a teen pregnancy on her hands.  She thrown up her feet on a coffee table and was sitting on the large, overstuffed couch in the living room scowling at the text on her phone when a tickle from her armpit reminded her of the events of the evening.  At least, she thought, this left her free to enjoy herself all night with her new toys.

First, though, she needed to return to the task she’d started earlier: figuring out how her weird new toy worked.  She pulled it from her blazer pocket and examined it closely, turning it around in her hands and tipping it from side to side, sloshing the water around inside it.  It was a squat, cut crystal bottle with sharp facets which diffracted the light at the edges into rainbows.  The neck looked like brass, old and patinaed, and had grooves which screwed onto the glass bottle.  The neck led to two sets of nozzles on opposite sides, a smaller one which connected to a rubber pump and a larger one from which the liquid contents of the atomizer was misted.  Looking intently, she realized that the spout of the larger nozzle had an knurled texture, possibly to provide grip.  She wondered if it could turn and, if so, what effect it might have.

Darcy looked around for something she could experiment with, having already shrunk half her kitchenware into uselessness and not wanting to destroy the rest.  Her eyes fell on her purse, which she’d tossed down beside her, and remembered the two girls she’d shoved inside, the sisters Toshina and Timone.  She’d have to dispose of them anyway, so she figured she might as well put them to use.

The two girls were crouched at the bottom of the purse, arms around each other in a hug, and as they each raised an arm to shield themselves from the invasion of light into their prison, Darcy could see from their makeup-streaked faces that they’d been crying.  She felt a brief moment of guilt until a twinge from her bruised shoulder, the one hit by Sunny with the baseball bat, dispelled any feeling of sympathy.  Darcy reached in and scooped up the girls in her fist.

Darcy dropped the girls onto the coffee table in a heap, then leaned forward with her feet on the ground, elbows on knees and hands clasped under her chin.  “You’re probably wondering what’s going on,” said Darcy in a conversational tone.  “I shrank you.  I don’t know exactly how -- yet -- and you’re going to help me figure it out.  I’ve already eaten someone like a french fry and squashed someone flat this evening, so I’d advise against trying to run.  I don’t actually need both of you, so don’t give me a reason to make a lesson of one of you.”

The two girls had risen shakily to their feet and were staring with round, wide eyes at the monstrously huge face of their building manager.  They did not move, either frightened into compliance or simply too shocked and stunned to react.

Darcy pointed the atomizer at the little two-inch figures and misted them down.  The girls raised their hands defensively and drew back, but, while their clothing grew damp and clung to them,they remained exactly the same size.  “So,” said Darcy speaking aloud more to herself than the girls, “once you’ve been shrunk, you can’t be shrunk a second time.  Hmm.”

Twisting the fiddly knurled end of the spray nozzle made it turn clockwise, and Darcy turned it as far as it would go.  She turned it on the girls a second time and misted.  The stream was much wider this time, the droplets finer, and a larger area moistened.  Instantly, with explosive speed, the girls dwindled away to almost nothing, mere specks almost lost in the woodgrain of the coffee table.

Darcy laughed with delight.  So the effect was adjustable!  She squinted and peered with her nose nearly touching the coffee table.  As far as she could tell, the two girls were still perfectly fine; they were no taller than an ant, but Darcy could see movement even if she couldn’t make out any details so she knew they were still alive.  “Wow,” breathed Darcy quietly, her breath alone knocking the girls over.

Wondering if the effect could be reversed, she twisted the nozzle counter-clockwise a few turns and spritzed the girls again.  The mist was tight enough to be nearly a stream, and the two tiny figures were sent flying by the impact.  They remained exactly the same size they had been, but frantic movement showed they were struggling to free themselves against the surface tension of the largish water drops which beaded on the surface of the table.

“Well, that settles it,” said Darcy.  “Looks like it’s one-way.  I can make things smaller, but I don’t think I can make anything bigger.  Sorry girls, looks like you get to stay like this.”

Darcy poked a red-taloned index finger at one of the sisters -- which one, she could not tell -- and was amused to see the girl stick to the pad of her finger by the same surface tension.  A second dab blotted up the second girl too.  She held her fingertip up to one eye, squinting to make out details.

“What should I do with you?  I could glue you to a toenail and just roll some polish right over.  I doubt anyone would even see the bumps.  You’d smother, though, and I don’t think I want a couple of rotting corpses glued to me.  Hmm.”

Darcy knew she could just bring her thumb to her finger and squish the two girls effortlessly, like bugs, but it seemed like a waste.  Yet they were far too small to provide any entertainment, and she didn’t relish the idea of keeping ant-sized pets she’d have to feed and clean and whatnot.  The thought of bugs had triggered a vague thought, though, and Darcy eyed the little girls speculatively.

Darcy rose and clip-clopped her way to her bedroom, a comfortable room with an oversized bed she often shared with a procession of younger men (to her daughter’s annoyance).  Past a heavy faux-antique dresser was a large glass demijohn, a glass bottle most often used for fermenting wine.  It sat on the floor in a corner of the room, two feet tall.  Inside was a wild profusion of greenery: moss, algae, and water plants, mostly, along with a few mossy branches and stones, and a sub-strata of sand which had now become rich loam and a drainage layer of pea stone beneath.  The transparent sides of the bottle were moist with condensation on its inner surface.  It was a terrarium she’d bought on impulse some five years earlier, a sealed environment which maintained ecological balance with nothing but a little bit of light.  When Darcy had first bought the terrarium, she’d spent hours watching the interplay of everything within.  Plants were not the only inhabitants; it seethed with little springtails, snails, worms, and other species whose numbers waxed and waned over time in constant dynamic balance, generation after generation.

“Well girls, have a look at your new home,” said Darcy, holding up her index finger to give the sisters a view of the terrarium.  “There’s plenty of stuff in there to keep you alive if you work at it.  I’m sure most of the plants and bugs in there are edible.  I won’t check on you and no one will ever know you’re in there, but you can live a nice, long life.  You’re welcome.”

Darcy unscrewed the lid of the demijohn, removed the rubber gasket, then held the tip of her index finger over the opening.  With a swipe of her thumb, she freed the two tiny figures which plummeted down into the greenery and vanished.  Darcy replaced the gasket and screwed the lid back on.  Hefting the bottle up, she placed it on top of the her dresser so she could see it better and turned on the bedroom light.  Even with her nose pressed hard to the glass, she couldn’t spot the two girls amidst the riot of life.  Darcy frowned.  She wanted to enjoy seeing the initial struggles of the newest additions to her terrarium.

Returning to the living room, Darcy fetched the atomizer and gave the terrarium a spritz.  She figured if it was smaller she’d be able to see the girls much easier.  She had intended to shrink the demijohn to perhaps half its original size, but with dismay she realized she’d misjudged the nozzle adjustment and shrunk it to barely a half-inch in size, a miniscule glass ampule far too small for any detail to be seen.

“Aw fuck,” said Darcy, then froze.  She had just realized that if the girls had remained the same size, they should be clearly visible in the now-lilliputian bottle.  Instead, they were completely invisible.  Apparently anything inside an object which shrank also shrank with it, even if they’d already been shrunk.  With wonder, Darcy realized the girls must be the size of cells, totally invisible except to the most powerful microscopes.

Pinching the glass bottle delicately between thumb and forefinger, Darcy drew it up to her eye.  Her eye alone would be the size of a mountain to the girls.  She felt a tingle between her legs at the notion -- then had a brainwave which made her grow damp.  She flipped open her jewelry box and sifted through the contents eagerly until she found the super-fine gold necklace chain she knew was in there.  Delicately she worked the clasp and fed one end through the finger-hole on the neck of the miniaturized demijohn, then reclasped it.  Carefully, Darcy worked the chain over her head and let the little glass bottle dangle down between her breasts.

Darcy drew in a deep breath.  In the valley of her breasts now lived two human beings.  Two actual human beings.  Her breasts would be soft pink moons to them.  Every beat of her heart would be thunder, every motion an earthquake.  Yesterday they had been ordinary girls getting an education, preparing for life in the real world.  Now they were microbes living at her whim in the sauna heat given off by her body, fighting to survive in a jungle too small to be seen with the naked eye.  Their entire lives would amount to nothing but a permanent piece of jewelry, their struggles and victories and defeats completely subsumed by Darcy’s reality.

This kind of nearly inconceivable domination had made Darcy extremely horny.  It drew her back to the tiny movements still occurring in her armpits.  Getting so excited had made her sweaty and she smiled at the thought of how unhappy her prisoners must be.  Well, they existed only for her amusement and pleasure now.  The thought made her soppy pussy throb.  It was time.  She’d given herself a quick frigging; now she wanted to take the time to thoroughly enjoy herself.

Darcy stepped out of her shoes, wriggled out of her pants, and took off her blazer, letting her clothes fall heedlessly to the floor.  Next off came her blouse and underwire bra, revealing very large, pillowy breasts, pale and traced with blue veins.  The areolae were the pink of carnations, and were covered in multitudinous little bumps.  Her panties, when she finally managed to peel them from herself, were so dampened with repeated bouts of arousal that the smell of them spread through the whole room, goaty and rich.  Finally, when only Darcy’s new necklace remained on her body, she padded barefoot to the small bathroom she shared with her daughter and began drawing a bath.

As she waited for the tub to fill, she made a trip to the kitchen and filled a glass with red wine, which she emptied quickly in gulps.  Then she refilled the glass a second time and brought it with her to the bathroom to enjoy in more leisurely fashion.  It occurred to Darcy that it had been some time since she’d felt any movement from her belly and, if the tiny girl was still alive in there, the deluge of wine had certainly finished her off.  Darcy licked her lips and tried to remember how the girl had tasted.  It amazed her that what was technically cannibalism could make her so horny, but the thought that she’d ended a young girl’s life with barely a thought using nothing but her belly made her feel immensely powerful.

Darcy poured some fragrant bath oil into the steaming water of the tub, turned off the water, and lowered herself in.  When she’d settled, wine glass on the closed lid of the nearby toilet and easily at hand, Darcy finally lifted an arm straight up and picked at the medical tape.  She shaved her armpits daily, so the tape came away fairly easily and a two-inch pink body tumbled with a ‘plop!’ into the water.  She repeated this with the other arm, and another form -- slightly larger, perhaps two and a half inches -- also plopped into the oily water.

Darcy bent her legs at the knees and lowered her upper body down, raising the water level and submerging most of her torso so that only the tops of her breasts and her head from the lips up rose above the waterline.  The little figures splashing around in water which seemed nearly bottomless at their size headed for the only accessible ‘land’: Darcy’s boobs.  They were struggling, half-asphyxiated from their recent imprisonment in Darcy’s armpits, and only the larger figure actually made it up the slippery pink skin to lie gasping, face-down on the soft boob flesh.  The other figure, Dina, was losing her struggle to remain afloat and starting to go under.  After watching with amusement for a while, Darcy used her palm to propel the girl up and out of the water, to lie gasping in a foetal curl on her side on Darcy’s other breast.

The wine she’d consumed was giving Darcy a pleasant buzz, and she took another sip to help it along.  She wondered if the Korean girl was floating face-down and silent in her stomach at that very moment, long hair wreathed around her, skin beginning to redden and slough away, or if the tidbit was already snaking its way through her intestines to become a bit of ass fat.  The thought made her groin pleasantly warm and she smiled.

Darcy addressed the two recumbent forms on her breasts.  “Just so we’re clear on this, I shrank both of you.  There’s no way to reverse it, so you’re like this for the rest of your lives.  The only question is how long that will be.”

The man was the first to raise his head, staring up into Darcy’s eyes with awe, seemingly only now realizing the reality of the situation.  Whether he knew specifically that he’d been taped helplessly in a woman’s sweaty armpit Darcy didn’t know and didn’t care.

“From now on, your continued existence depends on making me happy.  I can pop you like a fucking ketchup packet any time I feel like it.  Or just gulp you down into my belly like a goldfish.  I ate Sunny, you know,” said Darcy, a mean grin on her face with lots of teeth.  “I swallowed her whole.  I gave her a tour of my pussy, and then I gave her a tour of my belly.  Made me horny as fuck.”

As she spoke, Darcy was growing more and more excited.  The sheer dominance she held over these two people who were now nothing but toys for her to play with or break made her nipples rock-hard under the surface of the water.

“So now I’m going to rape the absolute shit out of both of you,” said Darcy matter-of-factly.  “I am not really into girls, but I like the idea of raping you,” said Darcy, addressing this specifically to Dina, who had now drawn herself up onto hands and knees and was staring with haggard dread into Darcy’s face.

Unable to resist any longer, Darcy used her elbows to rise up slightly from the tub, the two little people falling over as her boobs jiggled.  Using her hands, Darcy hefted her boobs upward so that her now bullet-erect nipples pointed up at the ceiling and each of her two riders were forced to reposition themselves near the nipples to avoid sliding down into the water.

“Rub my nipples,” commanded Darcy sternly.

Neither figure moved.  Dina looked from Darcy’s face to the nipple which seemed larger from her perspective than a fire hydrant, then back to Darcy’s face again.  The man -- whatever his name was, as Darcy had no way of knowing and really didn’t care -- just stared with uncertainty at his own nipple.

“You better fuckin’ move,” said Darcy, then darted her face down, mouth open, at the blonde girl who screamed in a cute little chirp.  Swiftly, Darcy used her teeth to snap shut over Dina’s waist, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth.  The frantically pedalling legs slid inside Darcy’s mouth and she snapped her jaws shut.  To Darcy’s delight she could actually make out some words from the terrified captive inside her mouth, begging her to let her out, not to eat her, that she was sorry, that she’d do anything, anything at all.

Darcy took a sip of wine and swished it around her mouth, sliding the blonde girl around with her tongue from cheek to cheek, then manoeuvered her little body between her teeth, head between her molars and feet down near the incisors.  She revelled in the sensation of the helpless struggles of the girl’s lush, soft body trapped between the terrible teeth.  All she had to do was bite down and the girl would be crushed and mangled, ripped apart.  She considered actually doing so if only to find out how she tasted, but decided she was too horny right now to waste half of her evening’s entertainment.  After letting the girl beg and plead for a long ten seconds, Darcy swallowed the wine and the build-up of saliva, then opened her jaws and allowed the girl to drop back down onto her breast, striking her nipple in a way which gave her a pleasant tingle.

“You don’t want to be a snack, you rub my fucking nipple, bitch,” said Darcy.  She bared her teeth, then looked over at the tiny man so he knew that she was addressing him too.

Hesitantly, Dina crawled to Darcy’s nipple, shuddered, and placed her hands on its top.  She rested on her hams, knees spread with the engorged nipple between them.  With a quick glance up at her crazy captor’s face, Dina began to rub the nipple with her hands with fast, mechanical strokes.  After watching Dina for a few seconds, the man began doing the same.

“Slower!” said Darcy, annoyed.  “Don’t just rub, massage them.  Lick them.  Make love to them.  Make me happy or so help me I’ll bite your fucking legs off.”

Dina wrapped her arms entirely around the nipple, weeping as she rose up and down on her knees, trying to use her whole upper body to elicit the reaction her captor wanted.  The man decided on a different strategy, wrapping his legs around the base of the nipple so that his cock pressed into it.  Then he gathered the whole top of the nipple in his arms and began twisting it and bending it through main force.  His face was pale, drawn, and fearful.

“That’s better,” purred Darcy.  To be honest, the ministrations to her nipples didn’t feel as good as she hoped it would, and would have preferred a man’s hot lips and skilled tongue, but the awareness of molesting two people very much against their will was alluring.  Her hands slipped down to her pussy and she began to lightly stroke herself as she watched her victims try to please her in mortal fear for their lives.

With an awkward motion, Darcy tilted her hips upward so that the two nipple slaves could see her fingering herself just below the surface.  When she’d gotten herself sufficiently aroused that her pussy lips had engorged, swelling open, Darcy allowed one hand to drift upward and seize the tiny blonde girl, thumb over the girl’s tits, index finger over the girl’s back, and middle finger over the girl’s ass.  This elicited a squeak of fear and surprise.  With a single quick movement, Darcy brought the girl own and began sliding her bodily of her swollen clit, up and down, using the girl’s face and head to batter her love button and trigger pleasant erotic shocks.

The little man had stopped rubbing, staring in shock at the sight of his erstwhile lover being used like some kind of sex toy.  Darcy used her other hand to snatch him up and thrust the man’s legs between her lips so that his taut, muscular ass sat on her lower lip.  He legs thrashed, his heels beating against the hot softness of the tip of Darcy’s tongue.  He squeaked and pressed his hands together in a begging motion, clearly terrified that he was about to get gobbled up or having his legs torn off by teeth like axe heads.  Instead, Darcy snaked her tongue between the legs, easily forcing his thighs apart.  With the tip of her tongue, she flicked his large, meaty cock back and forth, slathering it with a layer of gelid saliva.

Under Darcy’s ministrations the little man groaned and she felt his member grow hard in her mouth, though it was little larger than a grain of rice.  Grinning around the man’s thighs, she used her considerable sexual skill to work him towards climax, all the while continuing to slide Dina over her clit.

When Darcy felt the man achieve full mast and close his eyes, she brought Dina up -- half-drowned, haggard and exhausted -- and popped the girl’s lower half into her mouth also, ass on her upper lip so that the two figures were face to face.  Using her pussy-slicked fingers to push the the girl and the man together, she watched as the man’s cock slid into Dina and he began completely without conscious volition, to pump his hips.  Darcy made an ‘O’ of her lips as she used her tongue to circle and entwine the writhing legs inside her mouth, totally engrossed by the weird and yet insanely erotic sensation of a couple of fucking each other inside her mouth.  She allowed one hand to descend to her pussy and begin sliding fingers inside, rubbing and seeking the most pleasurable spots which she knew brought the most pleasure.

While Dina barely moved, dully allowing herself to be raped by both her captor and her night’s lover simultaneously, the man was now fully engaged and unable to draw back.  His hips bucked wildly, hands no longer trying to force Darcy’s lips apart but squeezing and kneading Dina’s breasts as he fucked her helpless pussy amid a warm bath of saliva and the encouraging massage of Darcy’s snake-like tongue over his ass.

When Darcy felt the man stiffen, she darted her hand up, seized both lovers in her fist, and jerked them down her now aching pussy, thrusting them underwater and insider herself, forcing them deep down with two fingers.  Her pussy took them in a tight grip and squeezed hard as Darcy allowed an impending orgasm to erupt.  Whimpering and thrusting the fingers of one hand in and out of herself, Darcy used her other hand to savagely twist and stretch one of her nipples.  Water slopped over the edge of the tub as Darcy’s ass bounced up and down, and the water frothed with the rage of Darcy’s climax.

When the aftershocks of her orgasm had faded, Darcy lay languidly in the tub, spent.  She took a sip of wine and allowed her panting and triphammering heart to slow.  Only then did she remember the pair she’d stuffed inside herself.  Muttering a curse, she spread her legs and dug deep with her fingers.  She felt no movement and wondered if she’d drowned or crushed her new toys.  Amazed at how deep they’d gotten, Darcy finally managed to hook first the man, then Dina and fished them out.  They floated motionless in the water, and she scooped them up to let them drop bonelessly atop her belly.

Darcy peered between her boobs as the couple.  Were they dead?  But no, first the man and then Dina coughed, spat out oily water and a froth of pussy juice, only half-dead.  They had survived after all, if only barely.

Darcy picked up the limp blonde girl by one foot, letting her hang helplessly upside down, and dunked her in the remaining half-glass of wine, cleaning off the worst of the slime, then let her drop down into the glass.  Then she did the same with the man, leaving the two a tangle of arms and legs in the bottom of the wine glass.  Darcy picked up the glass and drained it, using her lips to strain out the tiny people from ending up in her mouth.  Though she considered finishing them off with the wine, she decided they were just too much fun to dispose of quite yet.  She’d figure out some way to hide them, maybe in her jewelry box or something.  She’d never imagined that rape could be so fun and rewarding.

After the police had investigated all the disappearances, after the heat had died down, Darcy knew there were plenty more people out there for her to enjoy, more tenants who needed to disappear -- into her pussy or down her throat or (and here she grew excited at the prospect) up her ass.  So much decadent perversion to explore, and absolutely no one could stop her.

Out in the kitchen, Samantha had a bunch of miniaturized dishes in the palm of her hand.  She’d returned home to grab some pajamas to discover this bizarre and seemingly inexplicable phenomenon.  These weren’t dollhouse props; she recognized some of the cups and plates.  They were real, and they had somehow been miniaturized.  She glanced up at the sound of her mother erotically pleasing herself in the bathroom.  It was a sound Samantha had heard many times before despite her mother’s best efforts to hide it.  Occasionally she’d lain in bed and stroked herself to the sound, weirdly aroused by the sound.  Samantha looked down at the miniature kitchenware again, then quietly replaced them where she’d found them and let herself back out without alerting her mother she’d ever been there.

Samantha would be patient, and watch, and snoop.  She knew eventually she’d figure out what the hell was going on... and how she might profit from it.

-fin-