"A monster-summoning spell? No, I've got enough minions. Mind control? Has potential, but needs more oomph."

High in his ancient tower, the Dark Prince, Satan, sat. His gloved fingers leafed through piles of eldritch books. A delighted smirk crossed his face, as his horned head flowed with wicked ideas.

"Muscle-enhancing spell, to tear apart mountains... Unimpressive. A meteor shower, to cleanse the earth... Dazzling, but a little extravagant. Ah, finally! Mwahahaha!"

Evil laughter flooded the dark halls, echoing off each grey stone.

"A makeover spell! Arly will finally see the real me! And then, she'll fall to my charms!"

He hugged the forbidden text tightly, smothering it with affection. The devil dreamed of sunny beach days holding hands with his love; candlelit dinners with lots of chocolate; long nights cuddling their pet Carbuncle!

A graceful - but assertive - voice outside interrupted the man's thoughts. "Exploding Knee! Haaah - Wind Kick!"

Suddenly, the doors to his study slammed open. It rocked the bookcases, which dropped their assorted tomes, fashion magazines, and plush toys. Rulue's leg stood outstretched on the other end, decorated with a gold anklet, pale robes flowing down it. Owlbear guards lay behind her, decorated with marks from her fists and soles. Besides them, her battle-torn servant, Minotaurus, applied bandages to himself. The self-proclaimed Fighting Queen was sweating from the encounter; but hid her exhaustion with a calm face.

"Darling Satan~! I came to gift you some of my specialty curry - but I couldn't help overhearing you." She stepped in, tossing her blue hair back. The intruder positioned her backside near the door, and with a wiggle of her hips, shut the door using her rear end. "Don't change your looks. You're perfect the way you are."

The master of evil groaned, looking back to his ancient volume.

She took out her fan, waving it to cool down- and to draw his eyes to her curves. "Forget Arle. Only I appreciate you. I'd do anything for your smile..."

"Anything? Then get out. I'm busy planning my honeymoon."

With a delighted coo, the martial artist strutted closer. "You're so funny! Let's make jokes together... And put down that book, before you do something that you'll regret."

As she approached, Satan flipped through the pages, hunting a magic phrase to regain his privacy. "Miniaturization!... No, Masochism!" He cast them off clumsily, making magic circles flash throughout his hideout. "Malleable! Manhandling! Mistaken identity!"

Rulue ran to him, leaping forward. "Take me in your arms!"

"Gah! Move away!"

With this enchantment, the effects of his spells combined at once. A whirring light whisked the devil out faster than an exorcist. In his place lay a person, magically shrunken to an insignificant height.

And guess who that little thing was? That's right - you, the reader avatar!

From your perspective, the whole world disappeared in a flash - and was replaced with an immense castle room. The humungous floor tiles shook with insane energy. Something above cast a round shadow over you. Looking up, the sky was filled with a humungous bosom, clad in clean white, and approaching you fast...

THUD

Rulue's great body compressed you. Due to the Dark Prince's confused incantations, he'd made you "malleable". It spared you from an embarrassing death beneath the woman's tits. Thank you, Satan?

Still, it was excruciatingly painful being under her mass. Her generously curves folded against the hard ground, engulfing you in the salty-sweet-smelling fabrics that caressed it. The pounding of her love-struck heart echoed around you, an intense throbbing that shook you to the core. Her nipple pinned your torso down from behind the spotless material.

"Ow... Just when we were going to hug!"

The squeezing force was so great that you were practically glued to the woman's hefty top. You remained stuck, like a sticker, as the titan-sized damsel lifted herself up. The sudden motion made you sick to your stomach, as her gorgeous legs whirred by in a peachy flash on one side, and the room's neatly-arranged furniture flew by on the other. The gentle bounce in her breasts didn't help. It felt like a road bump on the back of a bus.

Satan's admirer sighed, fanning herself. You could see some sweat drops floating down from her neck in the sky. "I have no patience for escape tricks..." She punched a wall in frustration. "Iron Fist!"

Her smooth arm flowed with bone-shattering strength. The combination of her sudden strike and booming shout detached you from the martial artist's soft mounds, and sent you falling. Adrenaline rushed through you as you prepared for the impact. You landed safely onto a yellow surface, which receded beneath your minimal weight. Looking around, it seemed like it was one of the wicked demon's fluffiest beanbags.

The mighty tower of a woman brushed her hair, and began to sit. To your horror, she aimed her rear end right for your teensy body! You dashed, stumbling over the uneven flooring below you. On all fours, you tried clawing away from the fleshy avalanche. No use - you were about to be her cushion!

When her round backside hit the bag, it took a moment for her to relax into it. Rulue's overwhelming butt smothered you. It pushed against the hillocks of beans, all of them moving aside obediently to accommodate the mountainous frame of her mounds. Still confused by the whole situation, you squirmed around, using her sweat as a lubricant to squeeze between the yellow landscape and her left cheek. The behemoth's weight was incredible, but the soft surface made it not fully unpleasant...

Until she leaned back deeper into it. She sighed, stretching a leg up into the air and flexing it. "Oh, where could my darling be?"

The Fighting Queen's buttocks spread out in every direction, cutting out all traces of light. Her careless bends ground you deep into the fabric of her robes, barely holding in her butt's skin. With every wave of her leg, the outside world grew more distant. It flattened you into more and more uncomfortable positions, made a plaything by her idle movements.

Gathering all the breath you had in your tiny lungs, between a ribcage that felt ready to collapse from the pressure, you shouted out: "HELP! I'm down here!" You were muffled by the fabrics. You gulped again, and added: "Under you!"

She froze.

Her hips lifted up slightly, giving you a moment to breathe - though you were plastered against the fighter's soft bottom, like you'd been with her breasts. "Who? U-underneath me?" Her hand groped the seat, gigantic fingers feeling for you - but sliding below you.

Relief washed over you. You screamed again: "I'm stuck to your butt!"

The smooth skin touched you, stroking the tip of her index across your back. Yes! She'd spotted you!

Rulue stopped for a moment. Sure, it might take some time for her to understand everything. It would take you some time, too. But at least you were safe.

...Or so you thought, until you heard her smooth, but deafening whisper. "Oh, you devil~" She ran her finger down you again, this time with a little tickling motion.

That was not the sound and motion of a worried woman who would save you. That was bedroom tone and a teasing maneuver.

She wiggled her rear end, sending you rocking slowly. "I thought I heard a miniaturization spell coming from those strong vocal chords. And I knew you were hiding somewhere - I just didn't expect to find such a noble man in such an intimate location. If you wanted to get close, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to shrink to touch me, you tippy-horned trendsetter!"

On cue, the Dark Prince's "mistaken identity" incantation was taking effect. She thought you were HIM. You screamed out: "No! I'm - I'm not your boyfriend!"

With a thunderous slap of her backside, she laughed out. "Oh-hohoho! But you're copping a feel here. And I bet you were that delightful little itch on my breasts! You can't deny your feelings for me." She kept running her hand over you, pressing your face into her rear. "Which part of me do you prefer? Or am I simply ~perfect ~ all ~ over~? I know you are, my shrunken hunk..."

You tried to escape. She had cupid's arrow planted in her backside more firmly than you'd been squeezed into it. You clawed up her fluffy robes, hoping it would bring you to a more visible spot. You came to her belt, and gripped it. "I'm not Satan! Please, look at me!"

"Riiiight, you're the dashing Dark Prince, aren't you? Or maybe the mysterious Masked Satan?" With a wave of her red fan, the emerald-eyed beauty locked the door - and indulged herself in the sensation of your movements. She felt you scaling up her, and tried to guess your destination. "Oh? Are you trying to get in my underpants? Allow me."

On either side of you, an immense finger and thumb pulled her panties down. The shaking sent you falling - and landing right in the middle of the hammock-like fabric. Her tumultuous journey in had made it slightly moist, and gave it a strong fragrance. Slowly, it began shaking. She lifted it back up, making you ascend to her plump, bare ass above... It hung over you, coming closer and closer, glistening brightly in the reading lamp's light.

Rulue panted. "Satan... Those devil-worshipers... what would they think... if they saw you... worshiping me?... Putting your everything into me... with your strapping, loving arms... And your chiseled face... Are you as excited as I am?..."

As she pulled her undergarments up, Rulue's slender fingers paused. Thanks to the sudden stop, the lingerie threads underneath you bounced gently. It sprung you up, nearly pushing your face to the fighter's rose-coloured sphincter.

Laying still felt odd when her idle fan waves still stirred you. You clutched to the panty platform for support. It was wet - no, soaked. A cupful of musky fluids seeped out between your fingers, wrung out by your grasp - making you flinch back in disgust. "Sickening..."

"Is it?" The two words erupted suddenly, a smooth reverberation echoing through your sprawled form. "Forgive me, we're moving too quickly. The morning star's warmth was melting my inhibitions... No, the Glorious Fighting Queen can't allow even you to experience that... yet."

Your arms sprawled out with relief. She'd stopped her love-crazy tormenting. She could listen to you! She could find out the truth!

Rulue moved an open palm down. It cast aside the cascading curtains of her robes, stretching out for you. "...But that's not the only way us lovebirds can enjoy each others' presence. I'm sure Minotauros won't mind us staying longer." The pale monoliths began closing on every side.

All right, you may have declared victory a little too soon.

You jumped away on instinct. The intruder's fingertips snapped together, grabbing your own robes. You wrestled the garments back, feebly struggling against a trained, leviathan-sized fighter's strength. "You're acting in error! A mysterious enchantment brought me here, and it's addling your mind!"

The immense hand pulled back. It patted the side of her underpants - making you spring up again from the lacy platform. "I know, my dazzling Dark Prince. You descended from the heavens, a gorgeous fallen angel, in a flash of sparkling magic light... And you've got me helplessly ensnared in your charm!"

As the Fighting Queen rambled, she coyly traced her huge index in a circle around you, shifting the world of silk. Your feet struggled to find a steady position. With this teasing maneuver, and the omnipotent purrs, the blue-haired flatterer lowered your guard. And she noticed - even without glancing, just by paying close attention to her "lover"s scurrying.

She continued. "It's improper, erroneous, addling, maddening..."

Rulue's wrist sprung forward. The five elegant, strong fingers fell from above, like towers descending to earth. They closed together, segment by supple segment, pinning you against the pillow of her palm. "I can't take it! And finally, I've caught you in the same spell..."

Pushing back only engulfed your limbs the soft wrinkles. It was like trying to tackle 50 puyos barehanded. Your hand caught between the segments of her ring finger as she stroked you. "Release me! Your obsession is blinding you from my true identity!"

"You're too humble! I know who you are, Satan, better than anyone else - and that's why you're here, in my embrace." The woman held her fan to her chest, eyes shut in ecstasy. From her heightened body heat, you could tell why. What kinds of trials had she braved to reach this place - and that sweltering temperature? Whatever they were, you felt like it was nothing compared to the monstrous tension you were facing now.

Higher and higher, she lifted you. Unlike the fall, this was slow - so you could get your bearings. Dim lamps and candles gave the room a lighting style that resembled a romantic night (or a sacrificial altar). Moss forests covered the stone walls; giant insects and arachnids crawling the ceiling; and ancient books spread out in a pentagram on the floor, displaying dark spells and fashion tips; connected by a well-loved, grinning plush toy at the center.

"Could you just LOOK AT ME?!" You shouldered her unflinching middle finger.

Though Rulue tried to hide her face using the fan, you could see a blush crossing her cheeks behind it. Her eyes remained shut. "The man of my dreams has finally given in to his love for me... And I, his queen... was acting without honor... I'm... embarrassed."

She squeezed you lovingly - but harshly. You mustered up as much air as you could. "And what of my honor?!"

Now, the tower in pale robes didn't even try to hide her satisfied grin. "What of it? I'd consider it an IMMENSE honor to have Lady Rulue grace you with her devotion. And soon, with her divine lips..."

Her pinky ran across your chest, up to your right forearm. It playfully squeezed it into the crease where the long finger met her palm. The Fighting Queen's scale could only be called breathtaking, as you neared the too-familiar mounds of her chest. And her might was also shocking, easily manipulating your body this way and that as if some sort of game.

But most terrifying? Her self-obsession. Satan's pride was his downfall, they say; but this creature's narcissism and vanity, twisting your world to reflect her desires, matched it easily. Though she kept hiding her gaze... Was there some sense of uneasiness hidden behind the posturing?

Your ascent met an end at the lips' plush expanse. Both of the glossy surfaces glowed warmly. When they parted, thin stands of moisture clutched to both segments, eventually sinking under her tongue. Rulue's delicate mouth, even when only partly open, could easily engulf you. A breeze from within brushed through your clothes and hair.

"Stop! HEY!"

Finally, the strong fingers pulled off you - cupping into a little seat, and leaving your body fully exposed to her kiss. Her shut eyelashes above quivered in anticipation, nostrils emitting more ticklish air. After a second of total stillness, she tilted her wrist, sending you tumbling forward - and towards the wet cushions.

"WAAAARGH!"

"Aaah~"

One of her heels popped, a dizzying distance to the ground. Her bare shoulders sank, then lifted. Dropping the fan, and bringing the other hand up for support, she lost herself completely in the kiss. The insurmountable strength of her smooth palm smothered you on one end; and the weight and dampness of her oppressively active lips did the sanme on the other. The fortress-like woman took every trace of clean air captive with her continuous pants; each exhale replacing it with her distinct aroma. Liquid slid down your face and hands; it was hard to tell how much was your own sweat, and how much her cavernous maw had loosened on you. It sucked on your skin, and drenched your robes, in what could be less described as a "romantic smooch", and more "cold-blooded torture". With the compromising force of her jaw, and the marble skin below impenetrable to your blows, it felt as if you'd be either squashed softly, sucked into her taut stomach, or suffocated by her inhales and exhales.

Something slimy and alien tickled your neck. Looking down, your face met the tip of your admirer's tongue. It prodded your nose, then slid upwards, dousing your head in a layer of her saliva.

You tried shouldering it back. Your attack bounced off the plush surface, squelching. The flexible muscle caught hold of your arm. All wiggling and squeezing just lathered you in drop after drop of Rulue's fluids. It slid tantalizingly up the length of your tiny limb - then over to the one opposite, caressing it in a twisting, iron-gripped embrace. Strands of moisture dripped across your shoulders, connected to the huge mouth facing you.

Now, the lingua started exploring you all over, crawling out of its confines. The behemoth covered you in a lick, leaning forward. Gentle moans vibrated you as she repeated the slurp. The strength in this fighter's tongue, alone, pushed your neck and legs this way and that atop her palm.

"Halt! I will not be made this woman's lollipop!" another strong kiss cut off your words, a lip-lock that literally locked you in place.

The immense jaws - inches away from you - smiled brightly. "Shhh. I'm nervous, too. Can you feel my heartbeat?"

Through her hand, you sensed an intense, rapid pulse.

"Please, Satan..." she sighed. "Use your magic to freeze us in place, and shrink the sun to a romantic ember. I want our first time to last four thousand years..."

Between excruciating breaths of your own, you shouted out: "I AM NOT YOUR LOVER!"

Another kiss stole your words... Before it became something far more horrifying. You felt your arms slipping past Rulue's creamy lips - brushed by her taste buds on the other side. Your protests proved unable to reach the callous behemoth's distant ears. With a final lick, she sucked you within her mouth entirely. The roof rained wetness, pooling below the muscle - which kept curling around you, brushing your whole body brusquely, feeling over it.

You tried crawling back to the exit, clinging on a canine - only for the active tongue to block your path, flipping you on your back with a little click. You couldn't tell which way was which anymore. The shadows of a firm, dainty mouth swallowed everything.

Her index prodded you in fully, and escaped gracefully. To anyone outside, you'd only be an occasional bump in the cheek of a beauty resting on a beanbag seat.

And the smooth organ kept stroking you, brushing you - more bold and invasive than earlier. Every time you tried to wrest it away, your hands slipped off its surface in a well-calculated movement. It pinned you to the roof of her mouth, squeezing you harsher. Her tongue rubbed you in all the wrong ways - teasing taps on your face quickly transitioning to long, slow sucking motions that lathered your whole body.

You flipped again and again, muscles weakening slowly to her soft organ's strikes. And from the continual hums around you - mixing with the brusque sloshing sounds - it didn't sound like the lovestruck giantess had any intention of giving your body up.

You approached the Fighting Queen's looming sphincter. The sky became an unbroken, rosy barricade. Humid waterfalls of cascading white cloth walled it in. Even if you managed to leave the plane of underwear, you'd just end up falling down, past her battle-trained leg muscles, to the cold floor below.

Unable to resist the tugging, pulling the ground into the overwhelming curves, you shouted at the immense woman: "RULUE!"

The movement stopped with a spring of the malleable material. Her butt was practically hugging you now. A shiver ran down the length of her spine, and knocked you off-balance.

"Ah... I love the way you say my name! Scream it again..." Rulue looked over the study room's decorations, smiling up at her, fluffier and cuter than anything. She couldn't see Satan; but what did that matter? She felt his loving embrace just fine. She heard his voice so clearly. And when looking at his design taste, she could perfectly picture the smile across his face...

...And she couldn't hold herself back.

You choked on the skin, trying to gather your breath. The toga's cloth draped across her wrists as she reached for her groin. Even if their smallest twitch could squeeze the life from you, even if they'd just pummeled guards - the fingers still looked delicate. The other hand took you by surprise: her middle finger slid under your backside. Its tip was so big, it forced you to spread your legs across its width. This uncomfortable yet plush seat rose under you, pulling upwards like a ski lift. The path led you right towards her welcoming mountains of the blue-haired pugilist's rear.

Darkness. For just a moment, nothing but darkness before you, behind you, in your future. You tried wrestling back, but had no idea where to put your hands. Everything you touched was the same dripping, wet texture. It spread across your arms, like morning dew over grass. Each ridge became a thing of nightmares as it slid across you, the flesh catching on your body. This mighty digit - not even a fist, or one of her devastating martial art techniques, just a finger - outclassed every muscle in your body.

Rulue flexed the finger back down. The phalanges near you twitched and curled. You'd never been so relieved just to breathe salty air. Sputtering out sweat, you looked over your hands, happy to see them again. This gave you a chance to use that air you kept in your lungs.

"Cease this, Rulue!" You tried for the loudest voice possible - difficult considering the pressure on your groin. "Relieve me of this pain!"

She giggled. "I'll soon relieve us both of our lovesick pangs. Have patience, darling Satan~" That light, excited chirp soon became a booming, queenly laugh that pounded into your soul.

The fighting queen gasped for air between speaking. It was hard work making it up Satan's tower. Even with his amazing taste in interior decor, and stunning knowledge of fine architecture, his hired help were very wanting. None of those uncultured beasts had any inkling how to treat an innocent lady and her bodyguard. She was just giving a gift, and they kept dealing her magical and physical blows...

But she never gave up trying to reach her Dark Prince; and now, his voice made all the pain worth it. He didn't even care how unkempt she was, he just gave her unconditional love. How could her pure heart refuse that?

If only she knew that Satan was long gone by now - out of his plushie-and-magazine-covered hideout, planning his next scheme...

The creamy rump spread. She pushed you back against the crack, and brushed you around gingerly. Every breath you took was heavy, rife with the fluids from the Fighting Queen's earlier combat. And those fluids just kept building as her sighs grew stronger. No matter how much you struggled, your shrunken body remained on the fingertip, under her command. With as much air as possible rationed in your lungs, you shouted. "Get me off!"

She mewed, tapping your backside. "Oh, have I been selfish? Just getting myself off..." The front segment of her terrifying finger curled up, caressing your lower half in a loving death grip.

A groan sounded out within your goliath "lover". You held your nose quickly with both hands. Some skin that you were holding back engulfed you. Soon, you realized the groan wasn't gas. It was the sound of the blue-haired fighting queen bending over. Every womanly curve and powerful sinew, moving at once... It was like being in the middle of an erosion time-lapse, caught between valleys and canyons within her flowing robes.

For a moment, it gave you a heady, weightless feeling. Mountains moved, seas fell and rose, simply because this godlike maiden misinterpreted you. It put you in a state of silent fascination, waiting to see what she did... and hoping not to misspeak, or dig yourself deeper into this backside.

Within her blue head, dreams and fear rushed by. Her anus... It felt vulgar. But Satan was there, so he must like it - and his massaging made her heart light up. She awaited another response from her little prince. Something, anything to say how much he appreciated her, how irresistible she was, how long he'd dreamed of her, too...

Why was Satan so silent? Didn't he want this? The crackling flames stirred. Rulue thought she heard the minions moving beyond the door. And with Minotauros there...

Was this the wrong place? Was the atmosphere wrong?... Or was she not trying hard enough?

Rulue pulled her finger out once more, and took a step back. Stone trembled below, blowing back a page from the magic book. Even at normal size, these elegant legs had the force to crush bricks apart effortlessly with her "Exploding Knee" technique. At your present stature, either was a smooth, ivory weapon of mass destruction. Presently, they trembled shyly, with the gigantic undergarments that held you lightly strung across them.

A hurricane of wind entered her lungs. The anus before you clenched. Her fingers wobbled, sweat building all over from the pores. Her sex emanated a mustier aroma still, dulling your thoughts. No, not again!

She inserted you.

All those ephemeral daydreams, of lovers holding hands and saying sweet nothings... They replayed before her eyes, mingling with the brushing movement. Every glimpse of her beloved Dark Prince's smile, his glowing eyes, his laugh, his magic skills... It felt so much more vivid, held so much more weight.

Flesh and muscle parted with a squelch against your minuscule body. The Fighting Queen's anus welcomed you in, constricting all movement. It was dark again. Dark, humid, and active; the fighter's heartbeat drilling into your own chest, and breaths of anticipation. Attempts to move or struggle just made the pulse louder. Your legs dangled just outside the miasmic plane. Between them, Rulue's overpowering finger rubbed against your groin and buttocks rapidly with earthquake-like force. You gripped the walls, feeling its soft surface sink into your palms, and tried pushing back out.

The sensation spread up her spine. Each pull of his hands was so careful, so delicate - but so enticing, so teasing, it kept her on the edge of her seat! She sighed, Satan knew how to be gentle. Rulue felt her knees trembling, and sweat pooling across her thin neck. But she held herself strong, held her dignity as the Fighting Queen tightly.

Her sphincter massaged you. Pressure started building up around your pants, as the slender middle finger pushed and rubbed you more daringly. Thrashing to get out was useless; it just ended up with her squeezing harder. You attempted to kick back at the digit. This proved hard, since you darkness blinded you. Not to mention the sense-dulling odor making it hard to concentrate...

Finally, both your feet made contact with her invasive fingertip. But you underestimated the strength contained in the Fighting Queen's gigantic hand, and the overpowering backside's hold on you. Both your legs kicked against her dripping finger, while she pushed playfully: instead of forcing it away, the pressure moved you deeper in. Now, you were fully engulfed within her titanic butt.

Rulue blushed. This far in? Wasn't that dangerous? Her iron will could weather anything, but would his elegant body stay unharmed deep in there?

Wait! There was that intoxicating yell again, the delicious pull of his fingers! She dropped down and grasped a Carbuncle plush for support, biting into it. Slowly, either palm gravitated to her cheeks. If that door opened... If anyone saw her sprawled out like this, reduced from her haughty state to a bowl of jelly, so engaged in the handsome man pleasing her...

...No. No need to think of them. This was just a private time for her and Satan. With a soft pant and a smile, she began squeezing herself all over.

It felt as if an expansive landscape was cuddling you to death. The passage tightened, and tightened, constricting, kneading from every direction. Every involuntary shiver or spasm hugged against this lust-frenzied girl's ridges, and made her caress back with even more loving devastation. You felt every inch of yourself violated from deep within, every struggle only hastening your fall into madness. After what felt like an hour, it all came out in a single, ear-shattering moan...

"AAAHN~!"

Rulue held her fan to her mouth, barely drowning out her ecstasy. Her shoulders slumped down into the pillow-coated floor. She could feel her hair draped in a web across her back, clinging to the moisture. Every bit of her tired body fell into bliss. She focused her mind on the glimmering candles. "Satan... thank you..."

As her rear muscles relaxed, she felt her miniature lover leaving. So brave and selfless... He must have shrunken down specifically to give her this joyful experience. Her head playfully twisted over, eager to regard the expression on the Dark Prince's chiseled features...

Rulue's anal assault left your head spinning, and your mouth sputtering. After having their way with you, the muscles relaxed their grip. This left you in her underpants. Disgust and exhaustion surged through you - but you realized you had to get away from this love-crazed titan as fast as you could. Navigating the panties' cotton with both hands, and pushing back some stitches, you crawled out on the back of her left leg. It lay relaxed, outstretched, like flowing hills of marble down to her heel.

You could still hear the pugilist's quaking sighs behind you. It was hard looking back - seeing the butt cheeks that had just kneaded you like dough, impossibly huge... Further, her head had turned over the bare shoulders to look at you. Betraying the chaotic, lewd acts she'd just finished with you, her eyes rested calmly, like clear ponds. She swept her azure hair off her back slowly - each strand visibly glimmering with sweat. This kept you kept moving faster, climbing off her limb.

"Aww... Are you really leaving, my love? We haven't even begun exploring each other..." she smiled, cooling herself with her red fan.

Then she squinted.

"Wait a moment. Darling... Satan?" Despite her size, her voice was a shy mew.

The immense pools of her eyes suddenly felt like focused darts. Rulue twisted her body around, still on all fours. A dainty hand fell to either side of you, shaping hills and canyons of cushion between them. She pulled her face closer, close enough for you to feel her breath pulling you back. for you to see the shadow of her slackening jaw stretching before you.

Suddenly, you weren't moving. Your feet dangled in midair. Like she would with a kitten, Rulue was pinching you up from the back of the neck with an index and thumb. It brought you before her queenly facial features, open wide in concern.

Her plush lip hung some centimeters down. Every second, as she examined each of your traits, her pupils shrank more, while the whites of her eyes grew. "You!" She cried out, her tone half-demanding, half-pleading. "You're... Not... My... Satan...?" Her fingers lifted up to her red face - a tone made stronger by the disheveled blue hair framing it.

Finally! After all that humiliation, she recognized you! You let a happy sigh escape your shrunken lungs. No matter how worried you were about speaking before, this was your chance to clear up the confusion. "Precisely as I've been telling you! Could you not hear my ejaculations earlier?"

Once again, you could hear her quickening pulse. In the fighting queen's silence, you heard it getting faster. The delicate face before you turned pale, mouth nearly frothing. "But... But... The Dark Prince was right there reading, in all his majesty... and... I heard his voice! He wanted me, finally!" As giant as her green pupils were, they were lost in her huge whites, darting all around the room and not daring to face you. "We were... going to... be together..."

Your body ached from the pinch of her gigantic fingers. Her unsteady blew across your hair, rustling it. You shouted back: "An enchantment seduced you, Rulue! Thankfully, it seems some force has finally relieved you during those lustful throes." You paused for a breath of murky tower air. "I'm satisfied, too - your affection is horrifying enough at regular scale. Now, we must find an antidote before you molest me any more!"

Her pale hand fell limp, dropping you down the length of her partly-exposed legs, to the cold, moist stone floor. Four words pounded through the room: "What. Did. You. Say?"

For the first time, you saw Rulue standing at her full, dizzying height. Her soles before you kept glued to the ground, and her firm legs struggled. The Fighting Queen froze, replaying the events of the past half-hour in slow motion. She gave a gaze below, down her white torso, looking more distraught and puzzled than a Puyo Puyo player with 7 rows of garbage. Then, her eyes widened and quivered at you, her gigantic body snapping to a defensive martial arts position. She inched back. Tears began to hit the ground. She soon held her gut, disgusted pangs running through it.

Her Satan... No, this person... This was the thing she had let into her? This was the person, the beast, that the fighting queen showed her secret place, her secret self? She'd been caught in the throes of love, taken to another dimension, dreaming of rose-tinted days to come... By THIS?

You sputtered: "C-calm down! I was merely expressing my honest opinion!"

Rulue couldn't catch her breath. Only a bit of sweet-talking and magic - and her muscles, her rock punch, wind kick, iron fist, each of them became meaningless! All by this thing, less than a dust mote... Who now demanded her help, as if she were a servant...

Her hands left her toga, clenched on either side of her. Her seat-soaked hair dripped from continued shivering. "Insect... Close your eyes and grit your teeth." She fluttered more on each syllable, almost flirtatiously, sliding them gently across her tongue. It was so quiet, you had to focus to hear.

She lifted one leg up, the knee pushing back her flowing toga, exposing her heel. Five digits overtook your view. "With my queenly feet..." At each breathy word, her well-trained fists clenched tighter. It all hit you at once: the shock, the odor, the wetness, the pulsing sensation in your scalp - all telling you to RUN. You sprinted back, making it across one gigantic tile before you heard her again.

"...I swear I will maim and defile every bone on your body!" A furious screech shook the candles that gazed on your path. The door stretched back further each second. Her foot pounded right behind your back, toppling some over.

Your body tilted, but you kept on course. "But - that attitude only further proves why you're terrifying!"


"Silence! Time for your queenly punishment!" Lifting her fan to the air, she swept it down in sync with another stomp. You only barely veered away from the bare sole as it struck down, with all the potency and fury of a thunderbolt. Ziggzaging around the toes, you kept your sights on the door.

The other behemoth leg raised with a hushed grunt. She leaned in. You stopped right as the sweaty mass was about to make impact, watching the fight-blemished skin end up right in front of you. Right by her heel, a sharp *crink* rang out. The rock floor cracked under her stomp, the crevice stretching out to your own feet!

What was this? Had she really been -that- hurt by the experience?

In a second, she leaned backwards, repositioning her silky leg. You dove back again, outpacing the sole swiftly. In response, Rulue swept the fleshy mass across the floor in a deft motion. You would've been able to escape, had you not been facing the Fighting Queen - your own leg speed couldn't compare to the reflexes, flexibility, and strength of this titanic woman. The side of her foot flew right into your teensy torso.

*SNAP*

With such a thin impact point, all the anger compressed in her limb flew directly into a focused spot - you. It kicked you against a wall, where you fell into the pages of an open book. Both impacts sent absurd pain jolting through your back. Biting your lip, you propped yourself back up quickly. But attempting to run just made the thin page slide under your feet, tripping you up! And your body ached too much to move quickly...

A thunder echoed across the walls. "I can't believe your audacity!" Seeing Rulue from this distance, like a mountain on the horizon, gave an even clearer view of her whole well-trained body. Her blue hair rushed along her slender shoulders, dozens of feet in the air, as she leaned in. Enormous sweatdrops draped her exposed limbs and neck, each traveling impossible distances at every heartbeat. The glare across her face was like that of Kikimora regarding a stain - at once distant and intensely focused. When she opened her mouth to speak, it looked as if she were baring her mighty fangs: "What has this pure, innocent, honest little maiden done to deserve this?"

She took a step forward to you - or rather, a booming stomp forward. And again, the stone struggled under her weight, thin cracks emerging from the foot. "Can I even call myself a maiden anymore? You've mocked my lovely dreams and used them to soil me! Not even that perverted Count treated me this lewdly!"

She lifted a dainty leg again, showing her glistening sole for a split-second. When it came down, the shockwave rattled the book, knocking you over. You struggled up, trying to get a word in: "Rulue, I didn't do anything! I was trying to speak the truth!"

"Didn't do anything?!" She froze mid-step, fist curling near her face. "Does a queen's dignity mean NOTHING to you?"

*STOMP* - the mighty stone creaked, as she kicked a pair of books aside.

"Have you NO conscience!?"

*CRUSH* - beneath her steps, chunks of rock and newly-formed gravel went flying.

"Because of you, I - I - ARGH!"

*BOOM*

This next steps sent you flying off the book. In her rage, Rulue's powerful soles carved permanent footprints in the rock, deep enough to go over your head.

Satan's merchandise and the stone walls blocked all escape paths. Above, the pugilist had her hands on her hips, gazing down in fury. Her green eyes were soon blocked out by her toes - bits of crumbling stone caught between the phalanges. She held her fan out, its bright redness almost hypnotic against the impossibly-high ceiling. It swung down briskly. Rulue dealt your judgement:

THWOOMP

Rulue's graceful leg lifted an inch to aim - and then came crashing on you in a blur.

Her stomp dug deep into the floor. Cracking noises rushed through your reddening head - it was hard to tell if that was bone or stone. You felt your limbs sprawl out, but they had no space to move. Even the refined, high arch wasn't a safe place, with how profound her footprint was. Years of defending herself (and chasing the Dark Prince without magic) trained the Fighting Queen to break through solid bricks. Rulue's treacherous ascent to the Dark Prince's chambers gave her ample opportunities to warm up her blows (a heat that emanated uncomfortably on you now). Now, every muscle, sinew, and joint in this towering, marble-smooth colossus of a limb joined forces in a single pound to smother you underfoot.

Even muffled by warm flesh, this blue-haired mountain's queenly laughter was ear-shattering. "Ohohoho, was that really your best try at escaping?" Even without seeing her face, you could tell she was leaning in, by the shifting weight that built across your shoulders. "Shall I give you another chance?"

In a sudden jolt, her gigantic sole lifted, bringing you back in the candlelight. A thin string of moistness stuck on you. But you couldn't look back for long; you rushed forward, arms pumping out to swim through the air, focusing right on the door. She followed you - with the large digit's slender, dirty underside right above you. As soon as you took a breath - BOOM. The weight crashed on you again.

"Are you THAT eager to taste my bare flesh as it descends from heaven? My, my!" She turned her ankle, twisting your minuscule legs, while she drew the word out. "...What a CREEPER!"

You struggled, kicking, swinging your fists. One blow made her flinch, drawing back with a yelp. A chance! You sped forward blindly. A way out, a way to escape the looming shadow of the vengeful giantess...

SLAM. Rulue crushed you again. Only one step was enough for a slender, shapely leg to reach you. Now, the ridges pressed deeper into you, harder. "Honestly! Do you know who you're dealing with?"

The mass lifted, falling beside you. You took a breath, gathering your courage, and began crawling forward. You looked back up to see the long, draping toga move...

SLAM. She dragged you back in place, clearing her throat. "You know... A year ago, a foul Count imprisoned me."

You pulled forward again, grimacing in pain. Now, Rulue wasn't even looking at you - just staring off at the wall, memories reflecting in the unattainable green eyes. A dim candlelight kept you focused on the outside world. When her imprisoning sole rose again, it gave you the will to move again - before the next careless SLAM.

"Think - a lost, frightened little maiden, at the mercy of such a beast! I nearly escaped the villain, but... my weak, slender body couldn't stand to him!"

Your face ground against the stone as she tugged you back with a single toe. She had her fan out, hiding her mouth. You could see her eyes had the faintest trace of tears in them... Until five powerful digits blocked out her face. She gasped in, and stomped harder than usual.

"But as all seem lost... A brave hero came in to help me. Satan! His beautiful green hair crashed down his manly shoulders, complimenting those firm, massive horns! Ahh!" She fanned herself, breaking into a smile, with one hand on her chest. "To be there, an awestruck doe, as my prince's beautiful, protective wings spread out! His cherry-red orbs flamed with righteous indignation! His gentle-but-strong hands cast bewitching spells on that hideous Count!"

One of her heels popped up, lifting you from the ground.

"He was there looking for Carbuncle, but still... He filled me with the strength I needed to overcome my fears. That day..."

The ground blurred towards you, as she stomped firmly into the ground. You groaned, trying to turn your face away from the overpowering, salty flesh.

"I fell in love!"

Once again, her leg rose to the sky. You twitched, waiting for it to plummet down... Hesitantly, your head turned to your gigantic torturer. She had both hands clasped together, her eyes shut. Lost in her sweet memories. Could this be your chance? You took in a deep breath, got to your wobbling legs, and tiptoed backwards. The flowing toga stood still, framed against the dark stone room. Rulue's sighs and breaths less overpowering.

"As for that Count..."

The draping toga moved in a sudden jolt; her statuesque legs sprung back into action. A brutal pressure knocked you off your legs. The Fighting Queen made a kicking sweep that shot you across to the other end.

"As Satan and I stared into each others' eyes..."

SLAM. Her smile grew wider, the force in her feet stronger. SLAM. Every time you thought you'd be numbed to the pain, it came shooting back through your spine again. A complex web of ridges and wrinkles kneaded across you, almost violating you.

"I stomped his ugly face into the ground."

There was a small gap you could almost squeeze through, right between her toes. Giving it a go, you pushed forward, fighting back the enveloping flesh. You felt the candlelight touch your eyelids... Suddenly, a toe on either end of your face pressed inwards, squeezing your skull between them. She hoisted you up by the head, caught in the crease between two dainty digits - and slammed you down face-first with the force of a comet.

"Each time he tried to get up, I stepped on him."

SLAM. Your body screamed, tears mixing with sweat. SLAM. You could feel her growing pulse when her sole pressed tightly enough against you.

"Again, and again."

SLAM. Your breaths were quicker, lungs feeling tight and sore. SLAM. Rulue kept a calm smile, despite the blood racing through her veins.

"Until he learned to fear the power of a maiden's love!"

SLAM. And once again, for good measure - THUD. By now, you felt completely pancaked. You pushed back a little, trying to pry yourself away. This just lathered you with the peds' perspiration; even the smallest inch of progress felt miles away.

Her twitching hand curled into a fist "But you - you're far worse! Thanks to you, the Dark Prince got away from me... The Dark Prince won't take me as his queen... Arle will ensnare him in her filthy, tomboyish arms!" She screamed, jumping on you.

Rulue twisted her heel across the floor, wiping it back and forth. "After all the ways you dragged me and my beloved prince through the mud... I'll have to break you into small, twitching pieces before my honest heart can accept your injustices!"

Another twist. At first, she ground her whole sole against you, dragging your minuscule frame along with simple twitches of her bare ankle. But then, with another all-engulfing STOMP, she began twisting you with the ball of her foot alone. Now, it felt as if each twist, each prod, each nudge drove you deeper into her skin, and flattened you more.

You tried to reply: "P-please..." It only barely came out of your mouth; the ball of this vengeful woman's dainty foot was pressing your ribs far too tightly. Even breathing stung, with the unbearable pressure and the heavy odor in the air. But worse, you knew you could only barely speak, only barely breathe, because your captor was allowing it. Her arch hung right above you, lifted from the ground, ready to descend at any moment. The wrinkles closest to you had thin traces of dirt and her perspiration between them; more and more folds stretched up, getting smaller in the distance, until they reached the shapely ankle. You sputtered out again: "Please... Rulue...! Urgh... You can't! I'll do whatever you say!"

Pain squeezed in through your nerves as the woman delicately leaned over, her blue locks dangling over her arm. She rolled you underfoot so that you had a clear view of her face looming above you, a coy smile across it. "Oh? Did I hear begging? Aren't you Satan, the proud Dark Prince?"

STOMP! She brought her heel down on your face, jamming it in tightly - right in sync with the word "Prince", to emphasize it. The floor creaked in your ear, the way a wood board would, protesting its treatment to deaf ears.

"What's the matter? Where are those charming words you used to lift this little girl's heart a moment ago?"

STOMP! It felt like the fighting queen was drilling right into you. Her smile grew wider as she fanned herself, shaking.

"Where's that strapping strength and delicious boldness that won you so many battles?"

STOMP! It made your ears ring, and the candlelit study spin around you. The shockwaves knocked over a plush Carbuncle - still grinning, as if laughing at your torment.

"Where are they..."

STOMP!

"...MY..."

STOMP!

"...DARLING..."

STOMP!

"...SATAN!?"

STOMP!

By now, she was vigorously assaulting you with her foot, dealing direct, crushing blows in rapid succession. The pauses between steps kept shrinking, as the intend deepened, and the squeezing grew more intense. She could easily torture you with only a touch; and yet, the blaze in her eyes told you that she was putting everything she could in this. The cracks in the flooring spread over multiple tiles. Hungry, unrelenting, the dainty sole fell again, and again, and again...

And through it all, her vigor never left her heart. It seemed as if every shiver or shriek from you only renewed the rage burning through her fourfold. Thanks to the Dark Prince's spellcasting, your body could take much deal more punishment without facing death; but it did naught to save you from this humiliating, sense-numbing hell...

By the time she stopped, you felt more like part of Rulue's foot than an individual. You twitched every second, expecting the heel to come back down; but it seemed like she was content, for the moment, to admire her work on you. The ability to move your limbs freely felt unfamiliar.

As your blurred vision cleared, and you wiped your eyes of the stinging sweat, you could make out her crossed arms high above. Her eyes still pierced into you. Every curve brought back flashbacks of your time in her rear; every sway of her toga put you on your knees; every second she glared down at you through her nose made your hope of escaping dimmer.

What to say? Your attempts at convincing her that it was a trick backfired - and any requests could just make her angry... What could chill her off? Bracing yourself, you asked: "Rulue... What would Satan think if he saw you... like this?"

She held still. Both her hands twitched. For a moment, she looked at the cracks across the floor. She brushed sweat dripping off the nape of her neck, staring at it in disgust as it dripped off her fingers. The white cloths suddenly looked far heavier. Far above, her cheeks lit up in bright pink.

"Don't...Don't..." She stammered for a moment, before crossing her arms. "Don't you DARE speak as if you know his feelings! How could you? How could a filthy creeper like you possibly understand our love?"

You tried speaking back: "I didn't say - I-I just... Would a man like him truly appreciate these..." Your mind hunted for a non-insulting word. "...episodes?"

She bit deep into her lip, shaking her head. "Silence!" The fighting queen spread both muscular legs apart in two earth-shaking steps. Her right fist lifted into the air, shaking. You started up again, hoping to at least get on your legs. "You're trying to take advantage of my romance! I can't let you manipulate a pure heart again!" You were in a sprint by now, giving up all chances of reasoning with her.

"Hyah!" The breathy voice echoed through the room. Her arm fell from the heavens, delivering a knuckle sandwich with extra salt. It trembled through your bones, warping your flesh. You felt yourself going flat on the stone floor again, right into a puddle of perspiration.

"Take that!" Her left fist now slammed down. You only barely managed to roll away - if it had hit, it may have torn the skin right off your body. Instead, it sent a catastrophic quake through the floor. The shaking was so intense, it sent you flying into the air.

"Rock Punch!" The titan was quick to react, calling her next move. With little time to wind this punch up, it had less strength. Still, when her middle knuckle collided with your tiny airborne body, it sent you flying. A stone wall soon greeted your back with another jolt of agony.

"Wind Kick!" You weren't the only one flying - Rulue leaped off the ground, one titanic leg stretched out. Thanks to the moisture coating your body, you remained stuck on the mossy wall. Soaring ahead, the side of her foot targeted your spot on the stone. Right as you managed to unglue your back, the fleshy mass tore into you with brutal precision. For one excruciatingly long nanosecond, it felt like the pressure would squeeze your insides out, all over the gigantic digits. When Rulue's mighty leg muscle snapped back, it left an indent in the wall large enough for you to stand in. (Though standing, at this point, was an arduous task.)

"Iron Fist!" With her hips in place, Rulue's fists flew wildly. The first two punches missed, shaking deep into the wall - but before you even caught a breath, a third strike collided. You could still feel that massive hand's pressure after it left - and soon, another struck. And another. Between painful, crushing strikes, you managed to dodge one or two; but that just meant your whole cranny trembled against the rage-fueled strength, putting you off-guard for the next meteor-like impact. And each time a fist pulled away, you saw a flash of your tormentor's face - glaring right towards you even as she threw her shoulders into the attack. Every glimpse, you hoped for her to show some sign of mercy, or fatigue, and stop targeting you with those horrifying green eyes.

"Exploding Knee!" As the scream echoed through your head, you heard rumbling beneath you. In a quick flurry of consecutive kicks and knee-checks, she tore the wall foundation below you into an unsteady mass of cracks. The continuous strikes rushed upwards. It felt as if the entire building was rattling - the stone nook began to give way under your insignificant weight. Unable to hold still, you tossed yourself off, hoping for the best.

So, of course, you fell into one of Rulue's many kicks. The pressure now compressed you into her right sole's arch. She breathed in for a second, dragging her leg back. Gravity once again cruelly forced the towering maiden's weight on you.

"Fighting Queen!" Rulue called her ultimate move - the climax of her destructive assault. A heavy dance, teeming with elegance. You felt every intricate, passionate step thunder into the very core of your being. Stuck in a web of inescapable wrinkles, you felt the tempo build - and build - the floor shattering under pressure, air and light falling away. Even when you fell from one foot, the other caught you, keeping you locked in the painful routine of squeezing and cracking. A clap from above, a tilt from her fan, a womanly laugh - and once again, you felt your skull engulfed deeper in the salty flesh. Even when she slid across the room, you remained caught to one sole or the other, tossed between the two in what seemed like an endless torment.

The stone floor rushed towards you once more. You winced, knowing nothing could prepare you for the impact...

*CRUMBLE*

Her foot broke right through the surface. The stone broke away into rubble, running across your body.

Between chasing you around, and torturing you, Rulue's punches, kicks, and steps had severely damaged the study's stone flooring and walls. With this final impact, all the cracks slithering across the rocky surface joined together, and gave in.

"What?!" She gasped in surprise, falling into her own step.

The -whole- room's floor collapsed under her feet - sending its contents falling. You screamed, trying to grab anything for support - and grasped Rulue's red fan. As for the Fighting Queen herself: her eyes and mouth were wide open, her massive limbs flailing helplessly. The room was right above a stairwell; you both saw rows upon rows of the tower's rooms rushing by as you fell. Quarters for Satan's minions; rooms with odd, mystic engravings marking the doors; what looked like rows of tanning beds...

Rulue arrived at the bottom floor - right on her head. Her eyes spun in for a moment, as she tried to lift herself up. As soon as she was back on her feet, the heaviest magic tome fell on her skull, knocking her face into the ground. A few stone pieces followed, hitting her body one after the other - with a single smiling plush to top them off.

Your fan floated softly down, acting like a parachute - and giving you a clear view of the chaos below. It was the first time that day you had to look down to see her. Soon, you spotted the main entrance, cracked open by the earlier intrustion. Nothing could dash your hopes this time! You'd wave goodbye to her, and find someone outside to restore you to normal! You tried to twist your body to glide towards it...

Until an opening door beside you sent a gust of wind that blew you back.

"Lady Rulue!" Minotauros burst out of the room, covering his eyes. "Are you unharmed?"

The sound from her below wasn't "yes", "no", or words in any human mode of communication besides maybe Tibetan Throat Chanting.

Her hulking minotaur servant stepped forward, eyes still shut - stumbling right into her. This set the Fighting Queen's language centers working again: "Off, idiot! Why aren't you looking?" The two bodies struggled awkwardly, before she added: "Where were you, anyway?"

He got on his knees. "Forgive me! I heard noises, and assumed - with a woman as beautiful as yourself, and the man she loved, behind a locked door, making loud noises..." He cringed. "I couldn't disturb your privacy!"

How much had he heard? She put a hand to her chest, shaking her head quickly. "Privacy? Ha! I was merely disposing of an insect."

His hands moved away, helping Rulue up. This was the first time you'd seen a bull's face in a blush. "Lucky insect..."

"I should say so!" Covered in dust and scrapes, she rose up - just as you landed behind some rubble. The exit was only a stroll away; but the Fighting Queen and her bovine servant were in the way. That humiliating crash couldn't have helped her rage. But this could be your last chance to get out...

***

Originally, the chapter ended with these choices:

1. Find a safer spot... *
2. Bolt for it! *
On writing.com, this is where the story ends. But when archiving, I decided to give it a bit of a conclusion - one going off Choice 2.

***

Any more time you spent in here, you risked being tortured in far worse ways beneath this towering queen's fury. Putting all the trust you had in your legs, you ran past the two of them, brushing by her bare soles. You nearly made it for the door...

...When it opened for you.

"Yo." Before you, a girl with blonde hair and a blue hat stood. It was that mischievous Witch. She had one hand on her hip, and dragged Satan with another. "This belong to you? He popped up in my potion after casting some gnarly spell."

Rulue lifted her head. In an instant, all her frustrated wrinkles disappeared, and her dirty hair blew in the wind.

"M-my Dark Prince... The REAL Dark Prince!" She reached her arms out. "I knew you'd come to comfort me in my moment of need!"

"Gah! Curse you! A hex on you all!" He ran away, cape fluttering off in the distance.

His admirer followed him, her robes held in a curtsey. "Yes, let's prance through the flowers together!"

Minotauros rushed after them, charging like a bull. "Lady Rulue, what's going on?"

You breathed a deep, relieving sigh. Lying back, you addressed the titanic Witch that had appeared so suddenly. "Salvation! Your presence has made my limp soul erect once more! Now... Do you have plans for an antidote?"

She giggled, plucking you up by the back. "Antidote? Whaddya mean? You're gonna be the perfect tester for my potions..." Her teeth spread out in a ravenous grin. "...My little Schezo!"

Oh, no.

The End