THE SCHEDULE     Part One

Two  weeks before D1.

John Hingsley looked at his watch, and winced slightly when he realized how late this was running. The voice of the presenter was droning on, filling the room with stats, projections, curves and financial figures. From time to time the light tapping of his ruler on the plastic surface of the screen was disturbing the general drowsiness in the room. John was getting impatient, unhappy that he was the last person due to present his report to the board.
Shafts of light pierced through the close shutters of the meeting room, the sun at its highest in the sky. John opened his gold-lined agenda for the tenth times and perused through the busy schedule. This board meeting was eating up his time on the next meeting. Later, at 3:00 pm, he’d have to go and visit a partner downtown, and explain (again) the general strategy that he had planned for the next quarter. At 6.00 pm, Mason was to take him to the airport , just in time for the flight to Beijing. The flight was scheduled for 9:30 pm.
The briefest of smile appeared on his lips, as he thought of the coup he was preparing there, and that would push the corporation‘s envelop far beyond the scope of its current capabilities. He closed the agenda and forced his attention to the immediate speech ahead.

D1, 11:00am

Anna was pleased with herself. She had the feeling that in more ways than one, this particular purchase was introducing her at last to the real adult life she’d always envisioned for herself. She no longer was a shy student, struggling with all the inadequacies of a young woman coming to terms with her independence and the emotional turmoil of a new and unexpected love life. She was now a responsible person , in charge of her own life, in control of her needs and with the means to accomplish her desires and dreams.
The little package, by way of coincidence, or by its nature, encapsulated her desire to be free at last from the last shreds of adolescence.  As she walked the sunny streets back to her home, her mind was full of anticipation for the evening’s meeting she had planned with Claire. She was besotted with her new lover, and it seemed to her life had found its true meaning, in the budding relationship she had at last brought to full light. Her short and frilly miniskirt flew around her slander waist and tanned thighs, and Anna walked a path framed by the many turning heads of admiring men (and, she hoped, women too).

Two weeks before D1

The flight to Beijing had been tiring as hell, and the comfy chairs of the business class compartment hadn’t helped much in finding any sleep. No wonder the meeting he held that afternoon hadn’t produced the enthusiasm he had expected: he had been slow and unconvincing, his speech somewhat slurred by the fatigue and the jetlag. Still he knew he had scored a few points. Slowly or not his plan was starting to bear fruits. In the taxi that brought him to the Hilton, John checked the schedule. He was due to meet Mr Wan She at 9:00 pm for an informal talk about the financing of the project. And at 11:00, he was to meet with Steven to liaise with the main office. The day was far from being over.

D1, 1:00 pm

The little man was perfect. Anna had opened the box she had collected at the third party address (she never dared to give her own). And here it was, looking back at her, seemingly a toy but already beating his tiny fists against the transparent moulding that imprisoned him. She had been afraid at first to touch him but when she did, extracting him from the box and holding its inconsequential  weight in her hand, she had felt elated by the accuracy of the model, and the warmth it even radiated between her fingers. They hadn’t exaggerated their claim to likeness:  it was, for all purposes and semblances, the exact replica of a man, in all its anatomical details. Anna never knew bio-engineering had made such progress.

Anna was somehow intimidated and perplex at first. She examined him, manipulated him, feeling the tiny strength of his struggle (this had been advertised as a real plus for stimulation, and she could see already how it would enhance the experience). It was strange to see him adjust to its environment, when she let him roam on the table, and she keenly observed its reactions. The little man really looked shocked and stared at her and at the room with incredulity, it seemed. Anna was also surprised at how turned on she actually was by the presence of the toy. Sure, she’s bought it for that very purpose, but had somehow been expecting disappointment, or even a private embarrassment. But she had fantasised enough about it , and now that she owned one, she realized she really was fascinated by the idea. She picked up her agenda and checked her schedule for the day. She had no immediate plans and Claire wouldn’t be there before later in the evening. Picking up the running toy, and tentatively tasting its skin on her tongue, Anna thought it was probably better to test it before her lover came by.

She went to the bathroom, taking the toy with her, and had a quick shower. The toy ran around her feet under the heavy jets of water, as she refreshed herself, and its clumsy running down there between her feet made  her giggle. As she observed his panicky retreats from her moving feet (truck-sized, to the small toy) she felt a strong surge of desire swell at her loins. This fetish of hers was now truly coming alive, and her body responded to that sight in no uncertain way. The man kept falling on the wet white tiles, picking himself up in a hurry, as her large toe nudged him down again and again. It was positively adorable. She dried herself up, picked up the escaping toy that was trying to hide behind the toilet seat, and went to her bedroom. Dropping the towel she had draped around her waist, Anna lied naked on the bedcover and slowly brought the little man to her breast…

One week before D1.

The alarm clock ringing had shot like a cannonball through John’s dreams. It took him a minute to recover from the confusion and realize the insistent ringing came from somewhere on the left of the bed. The hotel room was still dark, but a dim light was already shimmering from behind the heavy curtains. John had a quick shower, a quick breakfast and re-arranged his schedule for the day. He would have no free time today before 1:00 am the next morning, and he needed to be sharp, sharper than he had been for the introductory meeting yesterday. He decided to forfeit the visio-conference at 8:00 am and go instead  to the hotel gym, to get some energy and clarity. For the 10:00 am meeting at the business centre. He could not afford to be sloppy again this time.

The hotel gym was opened but deserted and an unobtrusive music played from hidden loudspeakers. John selected a steep slope and a fast rhythm on the walking machine, and, setting the agenda in front of him, quickly reviewed the day’s tasks, as the machine gathered momentum. He had been running for twenty minutes, keeping an eye on the heartbeat counter, when someone entered the room. John absentmindedly watched the woman in the mirror, as she seemed to make up her mind for one of the machines. She was not particular pretty , and after a few seconds, he had returned to concentrating on his running, forgetting all about her.  It’s only after a few minutes, that he realized he could not hear anything from the girl in the room. He lifted his gaze and saw her standing right behind him, with some sort of remote control thing in her hand. She was looking at his turned back. “May I help you with…” started John, pushing on the red button of the emergency stop of the runner. He had run enough for today anyway.
“You will do fine, yes” said the woman. She had a slight foreign accent. A bright light exploded between John’s eyes, and he barely felt his body dropping to the floor before he blanked out.

D1 ,  around 2:00 pm.

 After the initial surprise and shock on opening the box a few hours ago, Anna had hesitated and wondered about the best way to go about it. She had never taken such serious measures for self - satisfaction, and felt weird and a bit ashamed about it. Was it OK to indulge that much in this fantasy?  But the shower and the little display of life it had shown between her naked feet had brought the desired effect. She felt more in control, and ready to give a new acquisition a go. 

Obviously, she hesitated again , when she found herself alone on the bed with the toy sitting on her belly. Its little private life seemed at first to clash with her own personal needs. She felt like she was about to force herself onto an actual person, so real were his demeanour and expressions.  So, to break the ice further, she just kept the tiny man on her belly, while she quickly perused through the manual that came in the box. It was not really helpful, apart from giving some vague advice about the maintenance of the toy (this reading admittedly brought down Anna’s eagerness a notch, but also her anxiety …)  She decided then  it was high time to take some action.

When she took its wriggling body in her hand , (preventing it from falling over the edge of the bed, as it had already jumped from her belly onto the bedcover), a surge of heat washed across her body and she nearly bit her lower lip in excitation. It seemed silly, but she actually started by introducing herself to the little man, whispering softly and mentally scolding herself for this lunacy. Still, she thought accurately that it would bring some intimacy between them, never mind if it wasn’t able to understand. And then she started to talk to it more and more confidently, getting in a playful mood, while petting him and stroking him. His body was tone perfect, lean and the guy would have been a real looker if he had existed in real size. The expression on the minute face was priceless, a mix of confusion and terror and, she hoped, worship already. It kept trying to wriggle away from her grip, or to run away from her on the bed, but the booklet had been pretty specific about this, and stated this agitation was quite normal at the start of the toy’s life.

She manipulated it heavily at first, feeling that by dangling it like this she was taking control of this little body, and slowly her inadequate awkwardness disappeared (how can one be shy in front of a dildo, however sophisticated it may be? That thought made her smile).  She began to apply its muscular torso on the tip of her nipple, in a slow rotating motion. The toy looked at her with shock in its eyes, emitting some tiny squeaky screams. It was just fascinating. Then she rubbed his tiny pelvis (every organ was so perfectly rendered!) against the tip of her tongue, feeling the tiny hands beating against her nose. Delicately holding him between two fingers, she massaged her left nipple with his wet lower body for a dreamy moment, her other hand becoming busy elsewhere and her mind sinking in the strange meanders of her fetish. Her nipples hardened in an instant and she started to apply more pressure. There was nothing artificial about the contact of his skin against her nipple. It felt right, it felt warm and it felt just as alive as any lover she ever had. Anna, delighted , introduced the toy to the rest of her body.

She had always been partial to a gentle stroking of her inner thigh. She slowly dragged the tiny body between this sensitive area and the palm of her hand, as if treading dough. The jostling motion created lots of little squeal from the small toy, and the closer she got to the junction between her thigh and her crotch, the more aroused she felt. However she made a point of delaying the moment of letting it come into contact with her labia. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the sensations of this warm pliable body against her soft thigh. Even her fingers seemed to be electrically charged against the delicate touch of the toy. Her mind wandered off again, putting now a familiar face on the tiny features of the toy, and as a result, her desire grew and grew. Still, she fought some more against the surge of her body, and in the silken silence of the well lit room, she forced herself to delay the moment, by allowing the tiny toy to lie a moment on her dark bush. She watched dreamily as its tiny hands clutched at her hairs, while it tried to find its footing in the lush ground. Her face blushing slightly, but very much aroused and ready now, she actually told her miniature lover what she was about to do with him.

D1, same time

Ever since the kidnapping, John had felt utterly helpless, trapped in a mould of plastic and then shipped like a vulgar parcel to god knows where. His captors had said nothing, or if they had, it was all in Mandarin language and it had been lost to him. He had seen at least six people doing the “handling”, and several men had been treated just like him, and encased alive in their own packaging. None of them suffered from thirst or hunger, as the shrinking had got rid of these non-essential biological functions. This was terrifying to John, as it really felt as if he had really entered  the realm of inanimate objects. Yet he was able to think, to feel, and to move. He just did not seem to need nourishment any more. Speech was no longer an option either.

But beyond that grim processing and the unbelievable reality of his size, the greatest shock of all was this gigantic body that seemed to be now the entire focus of his existence. It wasn’t even as if he was really dealing with a person. He had totally failed to communicate his humanity to the young woman who had collected him, (to add to the difficulty, he had quickly surmised the foreign language she used was French, of which he knew very little) and the strange relationship between him and the girl had nothing human about it. He was a mere object to her, and her body was the much larger object he had to deal with. In spite of the obvious intimacy, there was no room for John Hingsley in this world of giants. Only his body seemed required, and only inasmuch at it served this woman’s body needs. John Hingsley, with his dreams and aspirations, was truly lost.,

The sight of her face looming over him as she had first opened the box had nearly blown his mind, but it was nothing compared to the fear and awe he had felt when, standing on the soap holder in her shower, he had seen the vast curtain move aside in a din of plastic rustling and her gigantic naked body enter the unreal white place, filling up all space. Her vast naked belly, the overhanging breasts far above, the full and curvy hips that suddenly came level to his eyes, the entire threatening mountain of flesh that closed in on him had left him shaken and utterly helpless. A minute later, running between the feet of the girl, he had seen rivulets of soapy waters larger than him run down the tall thighs and calves that dominated his desperately small frame like streams running down the face of a mountain. The sound of the multiple cataracts around and above him had been deafening , no less that the sloshing of the threatening soles of the vast feet on the hard inundated floor. To avoid being stunned to detah by the intermittent waterfalls, John had had no choice but to seek refuge between the legs of the giant girl.  But then the toes had come looking for him, hunting him like a cat would the proverbial mouse and the cruel game had brought him to near exhaustion…

Her body was his only landscape, a round, pale, enormous mass of warm feminine flesh. She had set him on her belly, and he could feel the intense warmth of her skin under his feet, and on his entire body. The ground itself was alive with powerful under currents, tremors, and undulations, revealing the massive biology beneath. At some stage John heard the deep rumbling of a bowel movement right under him. This body he was on was large enough to consume many things larger than him, and for a second, he had felt the cold fear of the prey under the gaze of its predator. But the two eyes that considered him now were expressing a quite different type of hunger. It wasn’t less frightening. A stunning whisper had come down from the full lips  beyond the slope of the breasts, and John, in the midst of the foreign words, caught her name: Anna.

 John did try and escape, jumping from the height of her belly onto the immense plain of the bed, while the girl was reading the manual that had accompanied him in his journey, but a moment later, he was being pressed on the hard and complex surface of a large nipple. The grip of the fingers was rough and oppressing, but the contact on the hardening nipple was even more violent, as it stroked his body and face. The womanly scent of her skin pervaded the air around him, her body heat, from the breast itself and from her fingers, made him sweat profusely. His screams not only went un-responded, but apparently were just enhancing the girl’s enthusiasm.

Nothing John did to protest his inhuman treatment seemed to be noted by the young woman bent on using him. He had hurt his fists on the hard skin of her nose, while his genitals were nearly crushed by the wet and warm slab of her tongue. He had breathed the hot air coming out of the frightening mouth, his heart racing at the view of the tombstone-sized teeth. A minute later he was leaving a wet trail against another hardened nipple and the world was once again a confusion of pink skin and warm pressure.

Her thighs were warm and soft and John had ample time to measure their unbelievable length, as his body and face were sunk into the pliant flesh. Gasping for air, he had glimpses of the vast near-vertical pillar he was dragged upon repeatedly, his stomach lurching at every stroke. The girl's skin, so soft looking from a distance, was now a rough surface, whose repeated contact started to painfuly heat his own skin. At the lower end of the strokes, he could feel the damp heat coming from the nether regions he was sure to visit in a moment.

D1, 4:00 pm

After a long foreplay, Anna was ready for him for now, and she applied the little body to her clitoris, gently at first, then more and more fiercely. It felt heavenly to her, the toy having a wonderful suppleness and warmth to it. Its movements and seemingly rebellious behaviour made it unpredictable, delightfully alive, and even more so arousing. When she introduced it into herself, the sensations obliterated the bed, the room, the universe, in their enchanting intensity. The very struggle of the toy was hitting all the right places in her vagina, the intimacy of his body details against her inner vagina walls was creating all sorts of unlikely stimulii. Moaning, buckling, surfing the wondrous waves of pleasures triggered by the toy, Anna day dreamed in her ecstasy that its was not a toy at all, but a real man , lost inside her, fighting for his life. The fetish part of her brain enhanced all the pleasure tenfold, leading her to the inevitable orgasm.

D1,  same time

John gagged on the vision of the enormous vulva that was closing onto him. He had always enjoyed the sight of a female sex, was not squeamish about its functions, and peculiarities and shapes. But this, this was now a sight beyond belief. The huge bulbous clitoris throbbing out of it sheath of skin, the convoluted shapes of the long and protruding labia looming towards him, the whitish ooziness that betrayed the inner world behind the folds, the whole musty, heady flagrant organ was too enormous and alien to behold. The crevasse of flesh in front of him would hardly seem to be part of a human body, if it wasn’t for the presence of the feminine fingers that stroked the bush above it, or the long pillars of the opened thighs. John’s mind went into frenzy mode, and he beat desperately his fists against the fingers that held him, screaming at the top of his voice.

The wet burgeoning clitoris hit him like a moving truck squarely in the face. The fingers that pressed on his waist wasted no time in dragging his entire body over the organ, shaking his ribs, nearly twisting his neck. The smell was overpowering. Somewhere in the distance, a thunderous series of moans had started. John tried to push himself away from the monstrous clitoris and the long wet labia he was prodded into. But his arms were no match to the mighty hand behind his body. Rosy folds, hairs, white blobs of ooze, and complex skin crevices were passing repeatedly in front of his eyes, and his face was pressed harder and harder into the hot folds. The whole cliff ahead seemed to have come alive and possessed its own motion, the plain of the bed below creaking under the monumental shifting weight. John was feeling the strain on his internal organs of the ever accelerating rhythm of the stroking, and was fearing / hoping his neck would eventually give way to the nightmarish pressure.

Then it stopped. Shaken and now slobbering, John was allowed to gape for a quiet moment at the long labia of the young woman, while a hand appeared suddenly from over the hairy  edge of the fleshy wall, and extended two fingers towards the entrance of the wet vagina. He  looked aghast at the stretching opening that revealed itself, rosy, pungent, deep, and filled already with a semi-transparent liquid. The ground of the tubular opening seemed to throb with a quick and insistent life of its own. Strands of mucous liquid linked the walls in a fragile and temporary web. “No. I don’t want to go there, please” thought the desperate toy..

A  haggard John Hingsley , cunning business man, social ladder climber, ambitious careerist, and man of the world, started to howl like a mad man, as his head entered slowly into the shadow of the wet and hungry vagina, The rosy inner walls, with their many ridges and  recesses, seemed to absorb his scream, lost as it was already among the various slosh and  suction noises that came from inside. The mass of the large fingers had left his waist to now act as ram behind him, pushing him deep in the cave. His face dragging in the liquid that covered the hot floor, his hands vainly trying to find purchase on the pulsating walls, but encountering nothing but hot viscous flesh, John screamed, and screamed, and swallowed creamy discharges and fought and howled, as darkness began to engulf him. Around him the huge organ was alive with tremors, the walls closing on him, then receding. Somewhere ahead, from the depths, came a strong rumbling, echoing through vast spaces lying beyond the cave and revealing enormous biological functions within the gargantuan body that entrapped him. Lost in the inner flesh, John truly felt absorbed by the vast being of the young woman. Loosing track of the situation, certain he was was being buried alive forever in the hot moist flesh, John Hingsley howled and frantically started to kick and punch and fumble in the dark. Behind him the large fingers had clenched the opening shut, and the moans of the delighted young woman rumbled to John’s ears from all directions….

D1, same time

Reclining on her bed, breathing slowly now, a sheen of sweat on her brow, Anna was overjoyed by the experience. This had been liked nothing an ordinary dildo would have provided. She was now totally oblivious of her previous shame and embarrassment at the purchase,  and could only congratulate herself on her initiative to acquire this extremely expensive, but oh so worthwhile item.

Looking at her watch, she decided, she would never been able to wait till Claire was here later to try it again. Feeling the heat returning to her loins, and ignoring the desperate (and very realistic) screams of the wondrous toy, Anna started to slowly  feed it again to her expectant sex.

End of part one.

THE SCHEDULE    Part II

D 43,  5:35 pm

Anna and Claire were relieved to enter the air-conditioned room of the hotel. The Caribbean island was indeed a true paradise, but for Europeans like themselves, its hot and humid tropical climate took some work to get accustomed to. They laid their suitcases near the bed and went excitedly roaming around the small studio, delighted with its local colour, its tasteful arrangement, and of course the superb view on the nearby turquoise waters.
Claire, thanks to her work position in the travel agency, had been able to snatch an internal promotion price on the travel, which made this unexpected vacation all the more enjoyable that it hardly cost them anything.

After a quick shower to dissipate the fatigue of the journey, the two girls sat in the deckchairs on the small and blue-painted balcony and took in the gorgeous landscape with unmitigated pleasure. The tropical sun was already setting down near the horizon, sending purple rays across the clear sky. It is fair to see the landscape wasn’t the only thing the girls took in. Their relationship having blossomed suddenly over the past two months, they were still in awe of each other’s body, now nicely exposed in their skimpy bikinis. Claire especially could not get enough of the lovely sight of her near-naked lover, reclining lazily on the chair, a cocktail drink in her hand. Anna’s long black hair marked a strong contrast with the not-yet-tanned silky skin of her shoulders. A pang of desire gnawed momentarily at Claire’s loin, sending her heart in an enamoured flutter.

For Anna, the situation was enhanced by the frankly unexpected turn of the events. While her new lover had been “in the scene” for a little while already, being slightly older than her and definitely more savvy to this world, Anna was a new-comer to the same-sex relationship universe and its many codes and layers. She had surprised herself beyond all measure, and was rightfully proud of her decision to follow her needs and true nature, in spite of all the misconceptions she had previously on the topic. Claire was lovely, intelligent, caring, and sex was just fantastic, obliterating the rather disappointing experiences Anna had with guys of her age.

While there was no real need for it, it is a fact their sex life was nicely enhanced by the recent purchase of this wondrous little toy Anna had managed to secure via the well-placed connections of her parents. 

After a few minutes of sea-gazing, Anna turned to her friend, whose eyes locked on her own. A few seconds was enough to establish the urgency of their mutual desires, and they both set their drink on the woven table, before going without a word back into the bedroom.
Claire sat on the bed, her fingers fumbling in her back with her bikini top straps. She watched Anna’s lean body crouch near the suit-case, as her lover removed the metallic box from under the neatly packed clothes. She came back with a bright smile on her face, climbed on to the bed, kneeling in front of Claire, and setting the box between them, opened it carefully. She unhooked her bikini top, while looking down at the little toy that went cowering in a corner, uttering its usual and adorable tiny yelps.

D43, same time

John Hingsley was learning his new life the hard way. Twelve hours ago, he had felt his box was being lifted and then deposited in another box. The tiny decorative holes in the box were not there for him (to provide air or comfort), as it had become quickly quite clear that his comfort was nowhere a consideration to the girls. Those holes were just a nice feature of the design. At least , it allowed him to have at times a view of things around.
The girls weren’t maniacs of orderliness and it happened that his lodging – for lack of a better term - was sometimes buried deep under their underwear, in the top drawer of their commode, or at times left on the upper shelf near the window of their bedroom. John preferred the latter option.

While the language was indeed foreign to him, John discovered that the long-buried memories of his few French classes in school were coming back to him. The constant hearing of the language, allied to the near darkness he lived in most of the time, was reviving elements of grammar he thought had been thoroughly erased. While not fully able to understand the conversations that went on in the room, John found that he was able to surmise a lot of the context in which his captors lived. The names of the destination, repeated many times over the past two days, along with the clear sound of suitcase zippers, had warned him enough of the up-coming trip that was being planned.

He screamed again at the face he saw over his box, as he was deposited at the bottom of the suitcase, but of course to no avail. Clothes were quickly piled up onto his box, plunging him in darkness. Far above, the excited chatter of the girls told him departure was nearing. Then the loud zipping sound informed him he was now part of their luggage, and all hell went loose.
The box was padded in soft synthetic foam. Its smell was nasty, and it was not that pleasant to the touch, but it had been his habitat for nearly two months now, and it did what was intended : it buffeted him against most of the shocks. Still, enough room was left for John to be tumbled around copiously, during the taxi trip and even worse during the luggage processing at the airport. His ear popped during the terrifying take-off of the plane. That night, John Hingsley, the tiny man inside Anna Olerons’ suitcase, did not sleep too well  among the hundreds other suitcases in the belly of the plane.

John could feel the various changes in temperature easily enough. The sudden assault of the heat when the plane had landed, the coolness of the airport luggage belt a few minutes later. He could hear and feel the presence of the hundreds of giants nearby, and made a point at screaming his throat raw within the suitcase, but he knew his attempts to be futile against the noisy background noise. Later he had listened to the girls’ enthusiastic laughers and ooohs, and aaaahs when they had discovered their hotel room. Yes, his ears and senses were becoming more attuned to the sounds and sensations around his box. He was able to get a clearer picture now of what was happening in the monstrous world around him. But for all his awareness, he had not expected the box lid to be opened this soon after their arrival…He instinctively rushed into a corner, when light flooded the small compartment and he found himself contemplating the enormous kneeling figure of a beautiful Anna eagerly gazing at him, while un-strapping her bikini top. His heart went in this throat, an all too familiar feeling.

Claire never shared her friend’s kink in relation to the toy. She had browsed the sites Anna had showed her, she had even read the stories, in an attempt to understand this macrophilia  trend in her girlfriend, but to no avail. But while she failed at embracing it for herself, she was too caring a person not to realize this was an important aspect of Anna’s sexuality. And she made sure to include this modus operandi in their relationship in the most accepting manner.
Her first contact with the toy had been somewhat disappointing. This strange pink animal was a wonder to look at, but she did not believe it had much to deliver. On the first night they tried it, its tiny weight on her belly, the surreal feeling of its little steps on her skin had disturbed her quite a bit, not to say frankly grossed her out. But when, after some coaxing, Anna had gently pushed the toy into Claire’s vagina, she had been converted in an instant.

Anna took the toy out of its container and let it explore the bed for a while. She had eyes only for her lover. They were both fond of foreplay and long kisses. They kissed for an eternity, taking time to languidly explore each other’s body. Claire was slightly more dominant and had gently subdued Anna into letting her do most of the kissing, starting by her and feet and gradually working her way to a more sensitive region. Their desire grew steadily, in unison with this feeling of intimacy real lovers get from the sexual prelude.
Anna was loving every second of it, and down at her loins an intimate heat and moistness was gathering momentum. A very sexual image started to form in her mind, which needed actualization: her eyes closed, accepting the kisses of her lover, she let her hand roam on the bed in search for their secret partner in lust.

“Tiens? Il est où?”
“ Il est pas sous tes fesses, par hasard ?”
Anna lifted her buttocks, just in case.
 “Non, je l’aurais senti quand même.”

John did not need to understand them to know his absence had been noted already. Running as fast as he could, he made his way through the thick carpet till he got under the wardrobe. Panting and sweating under the low wooden ceiling he turned round just in time to see two enormous naked feet land near the bed, shaking the ground.  He had to find an exit real fast.

“Regarde sous le lit, il a du tomber et se mettre en mouvement tout seul”.
Huge knees appeared , one after the other and soon Anna’s long black hair covered the carpet. A desperate John watched the enormous girl search under the bed for her favourite but rebellious plaything.
No too far, but still a serious challenge for his tiny legs on this treacherous surface, the entrance door was showing enough of a space at its bottom that he could squeeze under. On his left, nothing more than an old electrical plug and the four feet of the bedstand. This was no good. If only the girls had been at it longer, he thought, preparing himself for a mad rush. John was pretty athletic by nature and by practice, and he launched himself no barrels hold into a race for the door. He found himself quickly in the open, out of the shadows, and tripping in the carpet fibers in broad daylight. Behind him, large movements were occurring, sending tremors under his feet.

“Non, je le vois pas. Attends…”

The gigantic panel of wood of the door was now everything John could see. In front of him, the long horizontal slit at floor level seemed to come closer, but was dangerously narrow. John concentrated on keeping the rush going, his lungs on fire.

“Oh ! Il est là! Il court par terre!”

That was it, wasn’t it ? Two large tremors occurred somewhere back there. Then something flew on the right and suddenly a truck-size foot landed right in John’s past, bringing him to a halt, his body shaken by the short gust of air. A shadow covered the floor all around John’s heaving body.

“Mais enfin, où tu crois aller comme ca, toi?” 

Somewhere high above him a giggle erupted and John could do nothing but to look up at the inevitable. His gaze had to follow the impossible long calves, climb up the rounded hills of the thighs, make a detour by the archway of the naked crotch, to meet at last, beyond the cliff of the belly and the perky and yet massive breasts, the gaze of the smiling girl. The huge monument of flesh collapsed suddenly his direction and the crane-like pincers of her fingers covered all his vision. A second later, caught in the hot vice of the slender fingers, and swinging near a naked thigh, John Hingsley watched in despair the approaching bed, where an expectant Claire was looking at him, her glorious and vast naked body growing larger at every step.

Anna and Claire had an equal relationship. In spite of their very different personalities, they completed each other perfectly , Anna providing the impetus for their projects and dreams and Claire organizing their lives in the most efficient way. Their lovemaking was no exception to this harmonious symbiosis and each partner played their part to enhance the intimate experience. Claire tended to have the upper hand in their sexual sessions, a fact that pleased the more submissive Anna greatly, but which also explained the domination Anna also enjoyed on her little dildo, as if the dominance over this small life form was in a way a balancing act for her.

While Claire had turned fond of the little man’s abilities, she still wasn’t ready to leave it the front stage, especially during foreplay, and it’s only at the last stage, when desire had eroded her pride and hesitations, that she admitted him as player in their games. For all her dominance, she was not far from being addicted to the sensations provided by its little body in her intimate regions.

So it is that during the first moments of the intercourse, she often deliberately ignored the toy on the bed, satisfying her needs and love for her partner , unhindered by its little tantrums. Anna and Claire kept kissing each other, Anna keeping the toy in her closed hand while enjoying the light touch of Claire’s lips on her body.
After a few blissful moments, Claire felt the need to step up the session into something more up her alley.

Sandwiched between two navels and  crushed under Claire’s’ belly, John hadn’t particularly enjoyed the preludes of the giant girls love making.
At first, he had been confined in the closed fingers of Anna, as the girls had started to touch and kiss. As their contacts were turning into a more pressing affair, he had felt the fingers begin to squeeze him harder and harder, in accordance with their heated breathing. The warm touch of the rough skin on his body was sending him into serious sweating, and his beating of fists against the fingers had gone totally unnoticed.

After a while he was dropped carelessly on the bed, as Anna needed her hand to caress her lover, and John had found himself near two mountains, whose flesh and limbs were dominating him, as he lay confused near Anna’s waist. To the diminutive man, it was like seeing two huge dinosaurs in copulation. The vast bodies were intertwined, a confusion of heaving fleshy walls, curves, long limbs stretching in the distance. The odour of the two lovers was even becoming more pungent, as they squashed the mattress under their dangerous weights.
Loud squelching noises erupted from the motion and pressing of their sweaty skins. Sudden pillars were at times rising  in the air, as thighs ascended high above him, and then disappeared, as a leg extended. The ground under John was like a stormy sea, rising and dropping depending on their motions. John had to be carefull not to be swatted away by a suddenly moving arm or hand.

He was crawling away from the heaving hips threatening to  crush him, angling his path towards the side of the bed, when Anna’s whisper thundered suddenly.

“Attention, il va encore s’échapper.”

A giggle, a sudden shadow, and fingers were catching him. He was dropped onto the deep hollow of her Anna’s navel, and had just time to utter a last scream and prop his hands up before Claire lied down on her lover, imprisoning him between their bodies. He sure was going nowhere  now.

When at last the enormous weight lifted up, John, remained panting,  lying on the thick sweaty skin of the girl’s belly when Claire said something to Anna.

“Tiens-le une minute. Je reviens..”

While Anna casually took  him in her hand, John saw Claire get up, go to the suitcase, and remove two silky scarves from a side pocket. She came back smiling, and John positively heard a purr of pleasure coming from Anna’s lips. A second later, he watched from Anna’s nearly closed fist how Claire deftly attached the scarves to her lover’s wrists and then to the bed. A smiling Anna was lying on the bed, both hands attached and looking at her girlfriend with an intense expression of anticipated pleasure.

John did not like that one bit. He yelped when Claire took him from the shackled hand. He was being passed on like a vulgar object. None of the signs of life he had displayed so far were snatching him from the category of things. Seeing the giant girl attached to the bed, the nakedness of both lovers, the silky scarves, John truly understood his part in the moment, that of an accessory.  He felt tears of frustration coming to his eyes… He was brought to the end of the bed where Anna’s toes were twitching with excitement. The wrinkly and flagrant sole came to him like a moving wall. John gagged as he was used to caress the sole of the lying girl. His head was brought slowly to each toe (enormous painted boulders, each with a life of its own) and used to simulate a  mockery of a kiss (in fact his entire face was pushed hard against the grainy surface of the toes by the playful Claire.). Giggles and then a moan of pleasure travelled from afar, before he was brought to the other foot. In the distance, Anna’s was biting her lower lip.

There was much work to do and Claire was exhaustive. John was given the privilege to explore the long well-epilated calves of the French girl, was taken for a stroll on the inner thighs, his dragging feet on the hot soft skin in imitation of a walk, held as he was like a tiny puppet in Claire’s fingers. He could feel Anna’s gaze locked onto him as he was carefully set to hover over her waiting vulva. John had visited the place many times. He wasn’t too fond of it.
 A finger suddenly came behind his head and pressed his face adoringly into the pink flesh of a blood-gorged clitoris. Anna moaned even louder. John, his face and nose buried in the hot flesh could hear a loud breathing behind him, where an aroused Claire was trying to keep her excitement under manageable proportions.
A long stroke along the complex folds of Anna’s labia ended the first part of the game. He was then given a tour of Anna’s left nipple, while on his own left, the huge head of Claire ( a curtain of bright red-colored hair nearly hiding her face) was obviously taking care of the right nipple. The finger on his waist were applying a terrible crushing force on John’s body, but he was too busy fighting the other finger that kept pushing his head into the girls’ skin to really acknowledge the pain. Breathing was a more pressing issue.

“Ouvre la bouche…” whispered Claire, “Il est trop sec.”

“Bouche”… That means “Mouth”, thought John. He was getting fluent at the vocabulary of the body, exposed as he was to the sexual games of the French girls for the past month. And fair enough, emitting a voluptuous moan, a delighted Anna opened her mouth wide, closing her eyes. John saw the vast face below him come closer, and he protested madly as he was inserted into the wet cavern. For a few minutes, only the sloshing noise of  saliva, the hot rush of breathing was audible to John. The warm tongue explored his upper body, sucking him as deep as it could. John was nearly knocked out when, on taking him out of the mouth, Claire let his face bump into Anna’s lower teeth.

“N'oublie pas ses jambes” said Claire’s mouth just above him. This time, John was introduced feet first between Anna’s opening lips, his legs being sucked on thoroughly and covered in the warm ooze.
“Il est prêt là, fais le s’il te plait... Fais le maintenant...” whispered a near-swooning Anna. John felt the overwhelming impact of Anna’s blue eyes gazing at his saliva-covered body.

John watched Claire give a wink to the reclining petite brunette. Anna’s long body started to fly under his feet, as he was gently dragged , his legs dangling like a puppet’s, between the vast breasts, down the heaving belly, across the complex bush , and found himself again in front a pink, hungry sex. Claire held still him for a second while she lubricated the labia of her lover, and then John, still blindly refusing the reality of his plight, was pushed slowly into the hot and damp orifice.

Claire was careful not too loose her grip on the little toy as she inserted it in her lover. She knew Anna could get so wet, it was at times actually difficult to extract it again, so slippery it got. She worked slowly, pushing on the little feet, then pulling, and then when she felt the toy was fully active, she tongued it into the grateful vagina.
Looking at Anna’s blissful and perspiring face, Claire gently but firmly pressed her hand against her girlfriend’s vulva, to prevent the toy from getting out, and bringing her body back up along her lover’s kissed her passionately. .The sun was just disappearing under the now blood-coloured horizon, when Anna let out this near-plaintive scream of pleasure Claire loved so much.

A panting Anna was trying to recover from so much joy, her eyes glistening in the now dim light. Her hands were still hung by the scarves at the bedposts, and her naked body seemed to reflect the light from the sea, so shiny it now was with the exertion of pleasure. In her navel a small pool of sweat quivered in unison with her breathing. Claire was lying next to her, with, in her eyes, this look of triumph Anna knew so well, a little mark of vanity she was more than willing to forgive. The slow rhythm of the crashing waves was clearly audible in the cooling evening air that drifted in from the open French window. Anna breathed out slowly, enjoying the last remains of the orgasm, and she was already thinking of  the best way to repay her friend. They looked at each other and locked their lips in a long kiss. “Je t’aime” , she said gratefully to her beautiful lover.
Deep within her loins, Anna could still feel the tiny struggle of the toy, but it was like a soothing inner motion of her own body. She squeezed her thighs even tighter, and let  her vaginal muscles play gently with the small body inside, as if to extract the last drop of joy from the moment.

After a few minutes, Claire kissed her on the cheek and nudged her gently:
 “Hé, c’est mon tour maintenant, ma puce.” she said, pointing an accusing finger at Anna’s crotch. "Laisse-le sortir un peu. Il a du travail à faire.” Anna giggled and opened up her thighs while Claire freed her from her silken manacles.

John thought he would drown this time. The overwhelming flow of the inner juices, the relentless massaging from the hot wet walls around him, the total darkness and this infernal heat that was cooking him alive in the growling, sloshing, heaving cavern, all this, while not particularly different from the other orgasms, had today acquired a vicious finality. When the pressure disappeared and the entrance of the vagina finally relaxed, John had to fight his panic not to rush out screaming. Instead he slowly emerged, wet, smelly, humiliated to the core, and let himself drop on the drenched space of sheet between the still quivering hills of the vast thighs. Far away he could see a last twitch agitating the painted toes. He was trying to recover his breath, and to crawl away to the end of the bed when fingers picked him up, carried him over a landscape of feminine nakedness and limbs and bellies and started to press his face and torso against Claire’s burgeoning clitoris.
Above, beyond the hairy bush , the two  lovers had resumed their kisses.

As Claire came violently nearly twenty minutes later, the toy in full struggle within her vagina, it was obvious to the two girls, this was going to be a marvellous holiday.

The Schedule      Part III

D51

John Hingsley did not think much of these holidays… Being in a hotel, where room service could be an issue,  he had been carefully concealed inside the closed suitcase, under a pile of light clothing. It was not too hot, the air conditioning was on, even when the girls weren’t in the room. So at least, the darkness wasn’t aggravated by the tropical heat that reigned outside.
Confined in the wardrobe, John could still hear the girls giggling and chatting when they came back from the beach. He could hear them shower to wash away the salt of the Caribbean sea. The tremors of their walking were easily felt through the ground. They seemed to be having a really good time. John wished he could say the same thing. In the evenings, he was invited to join them. 

The days were long in the darkness. John had nothing but his memories and day-dreams to go on. He remembered the last days of his life, at least life as he once knew it. The rush of the meetings, the long and short trips to business partners, his plans for the future. But most of all he remembered Kiera, this most beautiful girl he had began to have feelings for. He had met her two months before the shrinking, they had made love only once, and he was slowly falling in love with her. What about her now? She hadn’t got any news from him since two months. For her, for his family and colleagues, John Hingsley had disappeared one night in Beijing.
John tried to think if there could be any clues left in his hotel room  back in Beijing, as to what had happened to him. But the police had probably only found his suit, his laptop, and probably had noticed he hadn’t taken his wallet or papers. He could only hope they had concluded he had gone somewhere inside the hotel (like the mall, or the gym). He tried to remember if he had noticed CCTVs in the gym, but he doubted it. The girl who “attacked” him would not have been so dumb as to do it in front of a surveillance camera.
Maybe the strange scam was known somehow, maybe an abduction attempt would go wrong and the case would be investigated, the gang arrested, and a search for the other victims would start. Hope was the only option for John Hingsley, as he reviewed his memories, within the suitcase of the French girls.

Anna and Claire were looking forward to the evening. As they walked in the lobby, showing up their now tanned bodies though frail bikinis and colourful pareos, and idly checking the crowd in there, they had noticed that a cocktail event was scheduled for after dinner. They agreed on this point: there’s nothing much better than sipping a daiquiri while relaxing to the sound of music and gazing at the starry sky through coconut trees.
Holding hands, they marched proudly to their room. The cool inside air was a relief from the sun-scorched beach. Anna went to take a quick shower, while Claire prepared a mango juice with plenty of ice. Then it was Claire’s turn to have a nice bubbly bath, washing away the grime  from the lagoon.
Anna took the metal box out of their suitcase and set it on the bedstand. She wasn’t sure she was in the mood for sex just now, but she thought it was better to have the toy handy, instead of having to rummage through the suitcase at a critical moment. Always be ready, she thought;

The girls relaxed, feeling on their skin the soothing effect of the after-sun cream they had spread on each other. Claire was reading a sci-fi novel, her near-naked body lying on the bed. Anna, who was making some sandwiches in the little alcove, had found it hard not to peek constant glances in the direction of her gorgeous girlfriend. They ate those while watching TV, during which the constant sensation of Claire legs against hers triggered a mounting desire in Anna’s body and mind. She winked at Claire and opened the box.

The opening of the box had become somewhat of a ritual for both girls. It did not necessarily mean they would use the toy, but it was the signal speech was no longer an option between them.
They had a wonderful sex session. Claire was very tender tonight, and took great care of her girlfriend. Anna, on the other hand, was fiery and wild, and really into it. They both had fun chasing the toy on the bed (it even fell from the bed once or twice in its adorable panic). Anna had pretended to crush it under her bum, had even asked Claire to do the same. Claire knew this was Anna’s fetish in action, and indulged her gracefully, although she thought there wasn’t much sensation to be had from the tiny man under her butt cheeks. The toy was indeed struggling, but it was so squashed under her weight, that it did not really amount to much. Anna was gazing intently at the little show, asking her friend to close her eyes and directing Claire’s hovering bum onto the fleeing toy, and she did seem to enjoy this. When Anna had inserted the toy into Claire’s gorged sex, she insisted on taking picture of her, while she was slowly orgasming over the tiny body. To Anna, the image was fascinating, of this beautiful girl wriggling in pleasure spasms under the unseen touch of the toy buried within her sex.

They went to the bath tube together, played a bit more with the toy, and Anna had a wonderful climax, when the toy was tongued inside her. She kept it for nearly one hour inside her pussy, as they relaxed afterwards. Only when the time came to dress up for the cocktail evening on the terrace of the hotel did a reluctant Anna remove the toy from her vagina and stored it carefully back inside the suitcase.
When the girls appeared on the terrace among the merry crowd of tourists, wearing tank tops and mini-skirts, and their beauty magnified by the plenitude of their sexual encounter, many a man felt their jaws dropping. Unfortunately for them, many were bound to be disappointed later on...

D 54

Looking through the window of the tiny and rusty bus that carried her to the beach, Anna was taking in the sheer splendour of the landscape, the kaleidoscope of the colours on people, the luxuriance of the vegetation everywhere. There were only a few tourists in the vehicle, admiring like her the exotic surroundings, as they were nearing the private beaches 7 miles north of the hotel. Anna was alone. Claire had over-reached her sun exposure limit the day before and suffered from a particularly nasty sun burn on the neck. She was not in much pain, but had declined Anna’s invitation to spend the afternoon under some coconut tree. Anna was half-disappointed, half happy about this. While she’d prefer to have her girlfriend with her, she was also relieved to have a bit of time on her own, and she knew Claire was welcoming the idea too.
Anna checked into her purse for the necessaries. Suntan lotion. Check. Sunglasses. Check. After-sun lotion. Check. Swimming Goggles. Check. The book. Check. The towel. Check. All was good. She smiled when she saw the toy fighting against the sun-lotion bottle at the bottom of the bag. This last item had been deposited here with a wink by Claire. Anna thought it a funny idea, but had no intention to use it in a public place.

The private beach was very private, and Anna was able to put a long distance between herself and the other bathers. She found a nice spot in the shadow of a tree, set her towel, and removed her skirt. She hesitated for a second, but after checking the surroundings, felt comforted , and removed her bikini top also. Her small breasts bobbed free and happy from their prison to get a whiff of the iodine-charged air.
Anna sat down pensively on her towel. In front of her, an unreal turquoise sheet of transparent waters was shimmering under the sun, revealing the white sands below. This was truly paradise. With a  sight of pleasure, Anna lied down on the towel.

The suntan lotion had signed a pact with the after-sun cream to squash the living hell out of him. John had to fight both containers to avoid being battered blue by the huge plastic things. The walking gait of the girl had set into motion every single object in the handbag, and John had to face the equivalent of an earthquake. His eyes had at last accustomed to the light in the bag, after two days of confinement within the darkness of the suitcase (the girls had behaved themselves yesterday). At first, John had been happy to at last get out of the suitcase. A few minutes later, struggling for his life against a cream pot , a lipstick, and some loose change, he wasn’t so enthusiastic any longer.

The heat was on. Even though the bag had been deposited in the shadow of the large coconut tree, John could feel the pounding force of the sun outside. His body was awash in sweat and there was nothing he could do about this. Unlike the girls, he’d had not time to acclimate to the outside world. When the large fingers had appeared into the bag, removing some of his enemies, the hot air that accompanied them had stayed inside, after the top of the bag had zipped up again in a definitive fashion. Left alone, John sucked in all the various sensations from the trip and the beach like a sponge does water. In his misfortune, he still craved the end of the dark isolation, and this opportunity was the most “life” enhancing event of the past two months.

A vast commotion was happening outside. Through a hole in the fabric, John got a glimpse of a massive foot landing near the bag. A volley of sand grains hit the bag like pellets out of a shotgun. Then, he saw the huge shape of the French girl diminish in the distance, as she walked to the water. She had nothing but her blue bikini bottom on and, seeing her for the time at a manageable size (within a room she always looked so massive), he was for the first time gob-smacked by the loveliness of the girl. She seemed petite but her curves were wonderful, her hips balancing nicely to her gait, her naked back was a lovely triangle of toned but discreet muscles, her back bone clearly marked, and the shoulders were thin and feminine, under the flowing curls of black hair. He watched her disappear  behind the sand dunes of the beach.

Diving under the clear surface, Anna was thrilled by the much needed dip in the ocean. The water was deliciously warm but still refreshing, and its crystalline state allowed to see all the wonderful fish and sea fauna that thrived around the lagoon.  A good swimmer, the young woman adjusted her goggles and treated herself to a slow but round trip of the lagoon. After a few minutes however, feeling the heat on the top of her head, she decided it was time to go back under the shadow. The beach was lovely and she took her time to stroll back, letting her vanity take the upper hand, and allowing her bare breasts to catch some sun-time. In a country that welcoming, there was no point in keeping a tan-line.

Her head was first to appear beyond the dunes. Then her naked torso emerged, the tanned skin shining under the sun. Then her belly, then…She was as gorgeous coming back, as she had been going away. Her lovely young face was framed by wet locks of jet black hair, her eyes highlighted by nicely black eyes-brows. She looked early twenty. Her nose was small, perfectly formed, and her lips formed a lovely natural smile. John stared, remembering he had been many times between them already, but never had the proper distance to appreciate them. At each step, lean muscles showed on her thighs, a clue to her obviously sporty nature.
Her perky breasts were high and round, showing a slightly paler complexion than the rest of her body. She did not show the slightest fat on her firm belly and hips. As she walked back to the beach, John could only hold his breath, as the admiration was replaced by the usual feeling of awe.  Every step she made was enlarging her beautiful frame, and John  felt as if he was himself slowly dwindling into insignificance.

Soon her head was high above the vast desert of sand. Her feet were not yet visible, but already tremors reached John through his feet. In a few seconds, the hole in the bag only allowed John to see the massive legs treading in his direction, then only the calves. The feet became visible , as they squashed the fragile dunes, two powerful machines flying low and getting larger still, sending clouds of sand in the air. Till only one huge toe landed just in front of John’s eyes. The beautiful naiad was gone, only the giantess remained , her unbelievable presence outside exploding around John with all its smell and noise and ground-shaking reality . John had never felt a craving take hold of his stomach. This sight had been so wonderful, he could have fallen in love instantly with that girl, but now he was once more totally ejected from her world, back in the realm of the  tiny things she carried oblivious in her handbag. John Hingsley let the tears fall down his cheeks as he sat down on the rough fabric, as he heard a frightening sigh of contentment coming from the enormous being outside.

Anna awoke from her quick nap as the sun was already low on the horizon. The beach was quiet, and apart from the singing of rare birds and the low crashing of the waves, no sounds broke out through the air. Anna breathed out with delight, stretching her limbs.
She felt good, relaxed, and happy. Opening the bag, she took the isotherm bottle of water and drank long and slowly. She saw something moving down there. Putting aside the water bottle, she leaned forward and considered the tiny pink thing that was apparently trying to gesture in her direction. It was really extraordinary how human it looked. Bio-engineered cats and dogs and even wild animals had appeared on the market a few years back, a mix of nano-technology and genetic manipulation, but something that complex really seemed a tour de force. Anna had a quick look around. The day was perfect, she had a way of making it even more so. She dipped her hand into the bag, and took hold of the warm little toy.  

Lying back down on the towel, she placed the toy on her belly, looking at it intently. She was still soaked from her swimming, and she could see how the water droplets on her tanned skin adhered instantly to the tiny feet of the little man. It tried to come forward, its arms extended, as if it wanted to talk to her. She smiled, and, with a nudge of her finger sent him sprawling on his face, just as he passed between her breasts. She kept him there, pinned under her finger, listening to his squeals. If it were a real man, this situation would be oh so hot to her, but she still pleased with this simulation. A little cog seemed to start ticking in her mind and she stared at the toy, while a flow of images streamed through her head. Looking around, she noticed a couple of people were also lying near-by, but not that close as to be a nuisance. Discreetly, she pinched the toy between the fingers of her right hand , and lifted the bottom of her bikini with her left. When she let go of it, the tiny shape of the toy was visible under the fabric, but she hoped, not too noticeable. Lower still, a familiar wetness began to surge, sending a blush of delight on her cheeks.

Anna was getting aroused by the sight of the little bulge, and a twitch came to her toes, as if her body was already preparing for a more drastic experience. Yet it seemed the toy was trying to come out, two minuscule hands attempting to lift the edge of her bikini.

“Tss, tss, tss, reste où tu es, toi” she whispered to it, tightening the bikini strap discreetly.

This was really pleasant, and she lied back, concentrating on the caress of the warm breeze on her skin and the sensations from her venus mons, where the small life form was struggling playfully. After a few minutes, quite aroused, a smiling Anna, glancing at the neighbours on the beach , started to bring her finger to her bikini, and, under the pretence of adjusting it, slowly pushed the toy further down. She could feel it fighting the push, and had even the surprise to feel it grab her pubic hairs, as if resisting in earnest,  but after a moment she had it over her mons and falling into her crotch. She let out a little gasp. The toy was now struggling directly on her vulva, its legs trying to push away her folds, and by luck his arms were now tickling her clitoris. Anna tightened her bikini against her skin, and squeezed her thighs shut. The pressure against her vulva increased.

If someone had come to talk to Anna at this moment, he would have guessed something was afoot: her breathing was heavy, and the light trembling of her lips was telling a tale. The French girl was getting happier by the minute, as she lost her inhibitions and used one finger to press the tiny form against her sex.  She had thought initially to indulge in some low stimulation, but quickly she realized she wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation much longer.  She decided to push the envelop a bit further. She quickly inserted her trembling hand in her bikini, grabbed the struggling toy between her fingers, and pushed it decidedly into her vagina. The too sudden entrance of the toy inside her sex brought a fleeting pain, but she had been quite wet and it did not last. And she quickly closed her thighs again, shutting herself steadfastly. She looked around, blushing, but to her relief, no one seemed to stare at her. Savouring this little victory, Anna closed her eyes, letting the delicious sensations erupt into her vagina.

The hand had appeared so fast, he had had no time to prepare. One second he was inside the fabric bag, among her personal things (he was one of them) , the next he was standing on the hard belly, facing the hills of her breasts and the hungry look of her beautiful eyes. Around his feet, salty droplets gathered to stick to his own skin. The many droplets reflected the sunshine, like a multitude of mirrors on the tanned landscape of the lying girl. 

John knew it was a unique chance. He had to communicate with her. He walked decidedly towards the smiling face of the young woman, extending his arms as a sign of willingness. He was about to pass between her lovely breasts when a strong shock sent him on his face on the brown skin. Uncomprehending, he tried to stand up agin, but the finger on his back just did not bulge, and the pressure was so intense he could oly gasp, unable to utter a sound. He looked up, and saw the girl glancing around. Uh oh, thought the distraught man.

The inside of the bikini was moist and hot, smelling of sea water. The wet blue fabric on top of him let the light through and John could clearly see the carpet of pubic hairs he was lying on. Lifting the fabric with his head and shoulders, he manage dot turn round and face the exit . he was trying to lift the large cable that condemn the limit of the bikini, and was nearly successful, the bright sunshine entering the confined space, when suddenly it tightened strongly, reducing his efforts to naught. John Hinsgley shouted out for help, hoping the girl would hear in his tone ( he hadn’t been able to utter one intelligible syllable since the shrinking) the prayer of a desperate man. The pubic hair under his body were rough to the touch, bruising his skin.

A shadow covered the blue prison and the large fingers started to move him southwards. John tried to resist, grabbing the nearest hairs but he was relentlessly pushed over the edge of the massive crotch. His feet passed over it, followed the slope of the bikini, till John found himself hanging onto hairs, his body vertical and pressed forward by the bikini gusset. A last push from the large finger on top of him and he had to let go, falling into the gusset, his face against the folds of the large clitoris, and his body hugging the wet labia of the girl. He tried to find purchase with his feet against the hot convoluted flesh.

This was not fair, he thought. Two months ago he was facing the normal issues of a normal life. He was worrying, not about his very existence and well being (he was, after all, a rich man), but about strategic choices, difficult partners, financial challenges and be accepted by a woman he loved.  Now his challenges consisted in staying away from rosy holes and sexual juices, avoiding crushing buttocks and salivating mouths, resisting despair in the darkness under women’s underwear.  While he had been in contact with throngs of people during a normal week, all of them dependant on his decisions and moods even, his world was now reduced to two persons, who did not even know he existed, and who had over his very existence a control all the more absolute that it was unheeded . Helplessness did not even start to describe what he felt right now, fighting away a young woman’s labia with all his strength, inside her bikini crotch. When the two vast thighs started to close behind him, the huge unseen mass of flesh pressing in his back ,as if to imprint him into the folds, John knew it wasn’t even worth fighting. A very short stub of pubic hair was trying to stab him in the right flank.

The fingers appeared without warning, light flooding the confined space. They took hold of him and John head and torso were introduced violently into the steaming orifice of the young woman’s vagina. He hadn’t even time to scream that he was already pushed deep inside, his body dragging painfully on the juice covered flesh. Darkness went total and behind him, the entrance of the vulva shut immediately, pushing him even further. The womanly smell and ooze from the invisible walls around assaulted his senses, triggering instant claustrophobia. The world had disappeared, replaced by the internal biology of the female body he was buried into: pulsations,  quivers, heart beats, gurgling noises from the nearby by intestines, squelching noises from the juices flowing around his body. There was very little air, and so hot and charged it nearly hurt to breathe it. John Hingsley beat his fists on the oozy walls, and tried to move his body so as to turn towards the exit of the tunnel, , knowing he would not reach it.

Anna did not think anyone had heard her , when she climaxed quietly under the sun. But she could not be sure her body had not betrayed the state she was in. She had kept the toy at work for nearly three quarters of an hour in her vagina, and her mind had ascended to such a wonderful trance, she had lost touch with the sea, the beach and the coconut trees around her. Had she wriggled on her towel? Had she ground her hips into the sand? She really could not tell. The bathers near-by did not seem to stare at her with surprise, and when she met the gaze of a lone young man  down the beach, she did not see anything unusual (like a smirk, for instance) in his expression. Reclining back on the towel , she concentrated on breathing from the abdomen, reducing the panting and relaxing her body. It had been so wonderfully intense, the toy deploying whole new moves and touches inside her vagina. That she could not help herself in any way, had meant concentrating only on the sensations from within, and the very slow and gradual build-up of her orgasm, had ensured its wonderful intensity.

After a long moment of “recovery”, the young woman stood up and walked to the blue waters. Its contact around her ankles achieved her full return to reality. The beach was gorgeous, and Anna still felt the same exhilarating feelings of otherness and wonder she had experienced on the first day. It really was the best holidays ever. She decided to walk to the rocky promontory she could see about a mile and a half up the long beach. Inside her, she could feel the toy slumped against the entrance of her sex, attempting to get out, but the walking, along with the bikini gusset, held it nicely in place. It was still moving slowly, and the sensations were really nice, if no longer arousing. It was as if every step she made stimulated the toy into giving her a very pleasant inner massage. The sun was lower now, but still radiated a comforting heat on her naked breasts. Walking along the beach, Anna felt beautiful. The appreciative gaze of a group of guys she passed by told her she most probably was. Life was sooooo good.

The return to the hotel was uneventful. Anna had spent a lovely afternoon, but she was eager to see Claire, to share some of its wonder with her. She felt they had come much closer, it was possible, during the last ten days on the island. It was after all their first trip abroad, and although it was not exactly a challenging journey, the sharing of their sensations, the freedom of being far from everyone they knew, the very fact that they relationship could blossom without hindrance and judgment from their friends and relatives had indeed cemented their love more firmly and unambiguously than ever. Anna had had some difficulties coming to terms with the same sex partnership. Although she knew from an early age that she wasn’t attracted to men, she‘d had to face the probably common issues associated with a “in closet” sexuality. It is to her credit that the few male partners she had were not the result of some denial. She was too honest with herself and the others to be playing that comedy. She had acted out of a simple and natural curiosity, certainly, but also out of a natural empathy with boys that were totally taken by her. She had made her mistakes, but no one, not even her former lovers, could ever criticize her for being manipulative or unkind.

Being with Claire made so much sense to Anna. Her love was so uncomplicated and clear, and Claire’s love reciprocated so uncompromisingly, it was no wonder this relaxing interlude could only strengthen what they already had. Anna sometimes mused over the idea that the presence of the toy had also something to do with the current harmony of her feelings. Sure, this is was by no means a man, but in Anna’s mind, there was no doubt the presence of this pseudo-malehood, this tiny male body, had in away facilitated the transition to her purely homosexual self. By retaining this element in her sexual games, she was also being quirkily faithful to her first experiences as a teenager while adapting to the real attraction of the female body. Anna opened her bag and peeked inside. The toy was holding onto a hole in the fabric of the bag, jostled by her movements. She had rinsed it thoroughly in the blue waters of the lagoon, and it looked healthy and ready. She was again surprised to see how the toy’s face always turned towards her face, as if it recognized which part of her he should squeal to. This made it so human. She figured a hell of shape-recognition program had been written in its memory. The toy let out a series tiny sounds, in a really amazing pretence of a conversation. Anna bemusedly blew a kiss to it, and closed the bag again. The person in a seat nearby smiled to her, probably convinced Anna had purchased some kitten at the local market. Anne smiled back,  feeling a sudden flush of embarrassment, mixed with a strange feeling of connivance with the tiny passenger on her knees.

The disclosure of her “ kink” to Claire had been a difficult moment for Anna. This eerie attraction for a fantasy that could have no ground in real life had been a problem to her ever since she truly realized its reality. It had been a mild disturbance while it had been still nascent in her mind, but had become an issue when it was crystallized by the discovery of many websites affirming its shared existence. Converging with the reality of her homosexuality, the fetish had made sexuality harder to understand for Anna. She seemed to be attracted to the idea of dominating tiny men, while at the same time, her real attraction had turned decidedly towards female partners. It took her a while to accept that one was not exclusive of the other, and she had concluded that really the fetish for her had more to do with her naturally submissive sexual nature and the need to somehow find balance, rather than with the actual choice of size or sex. Claire’s reaction to it had been utterly wonderful and supportive, a million miles from the fears Anna had entertained about it.
Anna smiled to herself, anticipating their reunion. The bus crawled it way through the beautiful landscape of the island.

Claire was feeling much better. The sunburn cream had done the job, and the red colour of her neck was already turning a much healthier brown. She beamed at Anna, and kissed her vigorously. Both girls settled on the desk-chairs, a drink in their hands, and shared their experiences of the afternoon. Anna described the beach, the sea, the sun. Claire described her meeting with a very funny couple at the hotel indoor pool. But however wonderful their solo time had been, any outsider could have said, by looking at them, that they were just too pleased to be together again.

“Et le …. Tu as ….? “winked a mischievous Claire to her friend, nodding in the direction of the handbag on the bed.
Anna took a sip of her mango juice, looking into her friends’ eyes.

“Oui.” She said simply, and beamed a smile to her friend that was telling everything and needed no further comments. They laughed, giggled, recovered and kept chatting for a little while. 
The night was starting and they were scheduled for a concert later on.

Anna went back inside, had a quick shower and came back to unpack her bag. She took out the various lotions, washed away the sand that had found its way in the bag, set the towel on the drying line, thoroughly rinsed her bikini and hooked it on the line. She removed the toy, passed it under water. The tiny body wriggled and sputtered and struggled under the water faucet. She dried it in a fresh towel and went to set it in its box.
A naked Claire suddenly clung to her back, her warmth and smell so familiar, as her two arms embraced her waist. Anna could feel her friends’ breasts pressing on her back while a kiss was deposited on her neck.

“Une petite minute. Qu’est-ce que tu crois faire, là?...” whispered Claire in her ear.

Claire’s hand appeared from behind, and two fingers slowly and dramatically removed the toy from Anna’s grip.
Before Anna had even turned round, a laughing, running and very naked Claire had ran away to the bed. She jumped on it,  lied back, and then suggestively set the toy on the bed between her opening thighs.  She looked at Anna and pursed her lips in a funny  pout of innocence.

“Tu veux?” She had used her “killing voice”, as Anna sometimes called it.

Anna came closer, a smile on her face and  rolled her eyes emphatically, in pretence of boredom.  Standing at the end of the bed, both arms on her hips, she let her gaze travel from Claire’s lovely smile, down her slender neck, her inviting breasts, and naked (and pierced) belly and then down to her wide opened nether region.
Between her friends’ thighs, the confused toy was just coming to its feet. For a second it seemed petrified when faced with Claire’s sex. Anna saw it step back, turn towards her, its eyes looking up directly at her face. It fell on its tiny knees, arms extended at its sides and seemed to utter an urgent, desperate speech. To Anna, it looked as if the toy was actually begging for something. It was really amazing.

In that moment, Anna was not sure which of Claire’s demure attitude, or of the toy’s adorable little show , played the most part in triggering the sudden urgency at her loins. Slowly letting the towel around her waist drop to the floor, revealing her lovely and fresh nakedness, she set one knee onto the bed…

Tbc

PART IV

DAY 437

Time was passing somewhat slowly for John Hingsley, as he waited for the Opportunity.

He woke up as he always did, around 6 am, his mind still reeling from dreams where his life was following its normal course, on a full scale. He was rarely three inch tall in his dreams. He continued to have a life, to interact with, friends, colleague, people. It was as if his unconscious mind was waging a battle against the harsh reality of the shrinking.
As always he tried his best to un-numb his limbs, imprisoned as they were in the dark foam that kept him neatly lying on his back, arms and legs out-stretched, like a diminutive Da Vinci sketch. Everything was dark. John Hingsley, an organized man, reviewed the busy schedule for the day.

At around 7 am the alarm clock would go off. It was a rather pleasant new-age type of gadget, that emitted soothing water sounds instead of a loud ringing. John would then hear Anna stretching and moving in her bed, yawning and sighing. The alarm would stop shortly after. The dual tremors would occur, as large feet would drop to the floor. A second later, those tremors (the sure sign of a tremendous weight squashing the great plain of the carpet) would travel North to the bathroom where the sudden roar of a mighty waterfall would echo right into the bedroom. John himself had been there quite often, in company of his owner, sharing the onslaught of the water with her and dodging the massive movement of the gigantic and naked  female body over him. After a few minutes the tremors would return, their intensity growing at every step, as Anna would come back in her bedroom.

John always braced himself for the sudden motion of the world he lived in when the drawer would be opened. Sometimes the article of clothing above him would be lifted and John would be treated to the incredible sight of a giant sleepy face leaning towards him, behind the quick movements of humongous hands. At times, water droplets would even fall onto him from the large wet locks of her hair. At other times, the drawer would open, but John would never see anything, as other clothes would be removed from the top layer. The drawer would then shut again, and darkness would return to his tiny world.

At 7.30 am, the breakfast noises would start, the crisp sound of the cereals falling musically in an unseen bowl (where he could have stood entirely). And, if the radio wasn’t too loud and covering everything with French news, he would hear Anna eat slowly and pensively, the munching of the cereal loud enough to be audible to him. She came often to finish her coffee sitting on her bed, perhaps reading a magazine, and John could even hear the slurps and sips she took from her coffee cup, sending a clear reminder of the vast mouth and throat in operation.

Some time after 8.00 am. Anna would dress up to go out to university. John knew she was studying physics, a fact disclosed by books he had seen near her bed and by conversations he had heard where terms like quantum, relativity, Feynman etc… had been exchanged between Anna and visiting students. A last visit of the drawer could also happen, but rarely. But many shuffling noises from clothing and shoes would fill the air. The steps would dwindle in the corridor then. A jingling of keys would ring briefly and the door would slam shut. The young woman could be heard down the far away stairs, on her way to her life, a life he could only dream about and that seemed as remote as the hidden side of the moon to the tiny man struggling in his drawer.

From 8.30 am to the evening, John Hingsley would remain alone with his thoughts, hardly perturbed by the street noises from an open window. The world was out there, enormous and inaccessible. John would reflect again an again on what he would do if the Opportunity arose.

Around 6 pm, (John could hear the distant chime of a church bell in the distance) the door would open again, and John would hear his captor  come back in. A pandemonium of various noises would then start, depending on her activities. The radio would blare again, papers would be moved, keyboard would be struck, chairs would screech in the kitchen, and various smells from her cooking would reach a John Hingsley,  who hadn’t eaten anything for nearly 500 days.

From this moment, the evening is a riddle to decode, based on the sonorous clues John receives. The TV moments are the ones John likes best, as Anna enjoys movies in original version, and John always avidly listens to US or English series. He cannot see the pictures but the dialogues somehow place again him into the world of the living. He can hear people talking, situations happening, and the plots take him out of the drawer for a few precious minutes.

It would happen sometimes that other people would be there. The rooms would then fill up with laughter and conversation in French, most of which eloped John’s understanding. Glasses would be moved and shocked together, liquids poured in. The weight of the enormous beings would shake the rooms, and John, forgotten and lonely, would experience again his utter insignificance in the darkness of the panties drawer.

Of course there were the other  times…
 When Anna would have a good meal, prepare for quick evening, switch on the TV, and then her mobile would ring. John, just listening to her tone of voice would be able to tell it was Claire on the line. He would curse and struggle and wail, but he knew then she’d be on her way here. It would start again.

A door bell would ring, a huge being would enter the flat. More laughter and conversation would occur and then the two set of steps would penetrate in the bedroom. John would hear whispers and fond  kissing. Sometimes a shower would start. But whatever the sequence of events that took place then, it would lead inevitably to the same outcome. The drawer would open suddenly, and a smiling face would hover above his little box for a fleeting second before the box itself would be lifted out of the drawer. John would look at the giant torso above him, and the underside of a wondrous throat, as the ceiling flew by. Incredibly large fingers would gently extract him from the foam casing, and John Hinglsley would start his regular duty, with his feet on the rough fabric of the sheet, surrounded by tall thighs, or simply with his body compressed in the tight grip of a slender feminine hand. The room would be obliterated by vast naked limbs flying around him, by massive slouching bodies, by the smell of sweat and sexual substances, the wetness of saliva washing over his body, the heat of a plain of flesh burning his skin shortly before another limb or breast or belly squashes him into the flagrant flesh. And all of this , the slurping noises, the moans, the whispers, the dangling over opened mouths , the greedy reaching of massive tongues, the embrace between two sets of  huge lips, all this would lead to that one instant when  the world would be reduced to the entrance of a fleshy cave, pink and throbbing with eagerness, wet with pleasure, where he would be thrust in , screaming and struggling. The quiet darkness of the drawer would be replaced by a wet, hot, claustrophobic tube of flesh, alive with tremors and vibrations and contractions. The long minutes in that living furnace, the deafening moans and near drowning experience would in turn only lead to the introduction inside the next vagina, where the powerful motions of the excited sexual organ would pump and press on his wretched body . Fighting for his life in the gooey cavern, John would be systematically fingered or tongued deeper and deeper inside the raging anatomy of the young woman.( Often indeed, a huge tongue would render null his attempts to get out of the quickly filling up tunnel.)
It did occur to John that he ought to try and enjoy these sex sessions but the fact remained that he could only get glimpses of extra large close-up views, a few centimetres of skin, hard-to-grasp motions of over large limbs, and close proximity with humongous tit and clits and teeth and folds. Somehow, John lacked the distance to view all the loveliness he knew existed around him. His attempts at re-constructing the semblance of an erotic imagery was always short-lived in the midst of those relentless  earthquakes of flesh.

It would nearly always end up the same way, when, crawling out of their sexes, he would find himself forgotten under bed sheets or under a pillow, or squashed under a  thigh, and more often than not, he would not even get the luxury of contemplating a plan of escape, but get instead immediately placed under a rush of cold water, and set back casually inside his box. Quite often, they would come back for him the same night, with  renewed enthusiasm.

At 2.00 am at the latest, John Hingsley would try and find some sleep again, his body shaking from exhaustion, or his mind reeling with boredom from an uneventful day.  At 6 am the morning after, he would wake up to the same day all over again.

This morning, John Hingsley reviewed the schedule for the day. He knew it was a Wednesday, and on Wednesdays often, Claire would come to spend the night. John waited .

...........................................................................................................................................................

DAY  542

Images. Her mind, at the moment of climax, always seemed to create images of an extraordinary vividness, totally random in their nature, and usually absolutely not sexual in nature. Anna had just time to register these images during the wondrous moment, before they faded away and acquired the fragility of a dream.
This time the image had shown her rows of white houses, in what seemed to be a seaside landscape. She did not think it odd. Anna dreamily left herself come back to her body, hot, sweaty and still shivering from the ecstasy. She opened her eyes. The room was dimly lit, rays of sun filtering through the slightly opened curtains. The radio from the kitchen nearby was hardly audible, a drone of inconsequential music.

After a minute or  two of  relaxing pause, Anna, concentrating to keep alive the delightful sensations in her body, was unable to repress the slight pang of sadness that always followed her masturbation sessions these days. She missed Claire terribly. And while this self-indulged joy was always all about Claire, her body, her voice, her face and the memory of her touch, it never managed to fully alleviate the pain the absence of her lover created in her.

Claire had been gone for three months already, to Cincinnati, where she was finishing her degree in architecture, while brushing up her English in this far-away university. Three months already and neither Claire nor Anna had managed yet to organize a visit. Anna herself was very busy with her own studies. And they had foolishly agreed it may be good for them, after so many months spent in near symbiosis, to take some distance and allow some time of separation. But the fact was Anna could simply not take Claire off her mind.

Anna sighed, and rolled onto her back, feeling on her body the light cool draft drifting from the window. Pushing away the sheets, she exposed her lower abdomen to the breeze, while absent-mindedly caressing her breast, the sensations no longer arousing but still pleasant.  From within her sex, tiny movements were taking place, insistent and titillating still.  She closed her eyes again, reminiscing the feel of Claire’s hands on her body, and without realizing it, she  slowly drifted into sleep.

She awoke about an hour later, feeling refreshed and content. A glance at the clock told her she had ample time before joining Chloé and Marie at the movie. She stretched her limbs, and yawned, her mind reviewing the evening to come. Her mind was slightly distracted by the sensations from her vagina. The toy, which had one hour ago provided her with a long and perfect session, was busy struggling and squirming, and was apparently trying to exit her sex. (She liked that feature in the toy, it really seemed it had a mind of its own). Anna could feel a tiny hand squeezing through her labia and trying to get a hold on a fold of flesh.  Anna took a minute to enjoy the changing touches inside her, and the little waves of sensations it created in her lower body. Then she squeezed her thighs together, bringing the movements below to a momentary halt, and grabbed the phone to dial Marie’s number and make sure they were on the same page for tonight.

After twenty minutes of idled chat, Anna decided it was time to be more active. She opened her thighs, and let the toy crawl at last out of her sex and land softly in the shadow of her crotch. Sitting up, she saw it between her thighs, wet and weak from its hard work. She took it, gazed at its natural motions and funny mimics for a few seconds. An idea was forming in her mind that suddenly got her wide awake again and out of bed . A smile on her face, she walked decidedly to the bathroom, the toy in her left hand. She left it on the soap holder and took a refreshing shower . Dressed in a short skirt and white blouse, she applied some light make up, dried the toy in a towel, stuffed it in her blouse pocked (she could feel it poking at her breast) and went back in her bedroom. The idea had followed its course in her mind and Anna went excitedly in search of a good strong box. 

John hadn’t expected any of this at all. It was obvious he was now being carried away in the outside world. The din of cars and people and traffic was frightening in its intensity and proximity. Anna was carrying the box under her arm, it seemed, if he trusted his judgement on the regular motions. After a few minutes walking, it became apparent they were in some sort of office, with plenty of people chatting around. John heard Anna say something to someone in French, and the box was violently manipulated and set aside. Then, distressingly, Anna’s voice was nowhere to be heard.

The next two days proved an ordeal to John, tossed around by unseen hands. Fear was very much his companion now, as he could not grasp the situation at all. When the temperature dropped suddenly and the plane took off, John was utterly lost , as to what was happening to him…

DAY 546

Claire was so excited about this, she came back running into her bedroom. The UPS man had dropped this unexpected package and it was obvious it came from Anna. Fumbling on the well-wrapped box, Claire could not wait to see what her companion had sent her.
She let out a tiny yelp of surprise and joy, when she opened at last the cardboard box. Inside was a long letter, adorned with many colourful stickers, the recognizable signature of Anna’s correspondence. The letter (and a recording tape too!) were placed on top of a familiar object, the sight of which sent Claire’s heart into an excited flutter. It was a delightful thought!

Sitting on her bed, Claire read the letter with a warm feeling in her belly. She could smell the slight tinge of Anna’s perfume on the paper, and the letter content was a wonderful acknowledgement of their mutual feelings and longings. Claire had to laugh a few times. Anna’s style was always very funny and warm at the same time. This gift was intended as a bound between them, a messenger of their love, which would allow them to experience closeness again, even though they were an ocean apart. Anna’s instructions were very clear and the idea was both lovely and moving. “How did they not think of this earlier?” thought a delighted Claire.

As it happened, Claire was not sharing her flat that night, her flatmate Deirdre gone to some party to a different part of town. The apartment was all hers and it could not have happened at a better time.
The evening was young still, and Claire quickly checked her agenda. She had promised Trish to accompany her to a gallery opening tonight, but she decided she could really use the evening on her own. She grabbed her phone, and after a few phone calls, she had cleared the way for an evening with Anna.

She prepared herself with as carefully as she would have, if Anna herself had planned to show up tonight on her doorstep. She took a shower, put on a sexy skirt and top, cooked a light dinner, and as per the instructions on the letter, opened a bottle of fine wine and lit a candle. She placed the little toy’s box near her plate, facing her, and inserting the tape in the recorder, let it play. While eating her light diner, she listened to Anna telling her about events of her life in France. It was soooo romantic.

John had quickly realized he was "home" again. Everyone around him was speaking English, American English even. He had listened to the men and women manhandling him for the two days of travel across the country. He was home, and apparently heading for Cincinnati. He screamed and screamed and screamed, calling for help, calling for anyone to just notice him at last but no one ever seemed to hear his tiny voice, muffled as it was in the bubble-wrap inside the package. After many attempts, his throat raw with effort, John Hingsley was left crying bitterly in his cocoon of bubbles, heading for the city. The recipient of the package was of course not too hard to guess….

The assault of light on his eyes had been brutal at first. And the smiling face of Anna’s lover had taken some time to come into focus, as she gazed adoringly at him. Later, set on the table near her plate, John watched her as she ate her vegetarian meal. The mass of food she ingested was staggering to John, even though  he knew this was  only a veggie meal to the girl. Yet the mouthfuls she was taking in were mind-boggling,  Set on a table like some salt shaker, John watched the young woman swallow bits that were nearly as big as he was. His own stomach churned, and it was not out of hunger. Immobilized witness, John listened with Claire to Anna’s voice. Once in a while, a munching Claire would gaze pensively at John, a definitive glint in her eyes. He could do nothing but await what he feared would be a fierce assault on his body…

Setting the toy on her pillow, Claire lied down on her belly and considered the tiny thing. She wasn’t so much looking it, as it gesticulated in front of her face, as she was trying to visualize the toy in the grip of her lover. She knew Anna had touched it very recently; she had applied it to her breasts, mouth, thighs and belly. She had pressed it against her clitoris, against her sex. This tiny man had been privy to her lover’s most intimate regions. Claire eyed the toy intensely.(but keeping it also from running away, with her finger on its back) Its body had a few days ago been hugged by the vagina walls of this beautiful girl, had bathed in her love juices. If it could hear, it would had heard her moans and cry out as she climaxed. .And if only it could talk! What story it would tell!  It would tell her of those inner spaces, those flagrances and textures, the fine skin and hot crevices from Anna’s body, all about which she was so nostalgic of! Seeing it like this , on her pillow, little carrier of a most passionate and mysterious little history, made it so precious, was so hot to her mind, that Claire began to feel the first stirrings of an intense arousal
She brought the toy to her nostrils, and tried to sniff on it the last remnant maybe of lover’s sex. But it only smelled of its own male flagrance, Anna had obviously washed it before sending it. Claire still breathes deeply on it, as if it would intoxicate her with some secret substance. Licking cautiously the warm little body with the very tip of her tongue, she still recognized the almond taste of the soap Anna always used.

The excited young woman took no time to undress and join the toy on the bed. The invisible presence of Anna was near overwhelming. She could feel she was with her, reclining and expectant, pleading Claire to use the toy on her. Claire took it in her hand (it was running again towards to the edge of the bed), and lying on her back, she closed her eyes. She started to kiss the toy slowly, knowing Anna’s lips had done the same two day ago. She could feel the little fists dabbing at her lips and tongue, the tiny squeals gaining in intensity. Slowly fondling her breast, she inserted the toy deep in her mouth and sucked on it meticulously, her mind full of images from their kisses and love-making. Although the toy’s crying was more audible to her, echoing even in her throat it seemed, she was turning them into the fancied moans from Anna. The more she sucked, the more she felt the heat gathering at her loins. Her sucking became slower and harder, and more and more urgent.

Anna always loved to nibble on Claire’s pierced breasts, and she always took her time dealing with them. Claire applied the tiny warm body in a gyratory motion over her nipple, whispering Anna’s name, and it was not long till her nipple stood fully erect under the pressure of the toy. She smiled when the head of the little guy got stuck in her tit- ring. She had to be careful to remove it without damage. She could remember Anna had done the same many times.

Claire, who had always regarded the toy as a mere final accessory for vaginal stimulation, and hadn’t particularly projected on it any fantasies, as Anna easily  did, was for the first time using it with a modicum of emotional attachment and interest. She kissed it, and caressed it, and coaxed it into walking all over her body, imagining Anna was touching her by proxy, through the mediation of the little man. It was exquisite, and soon Claire found herself gasping and moaning; She remembered how Anna loved to crush the toy under her butt, and at times fantasized aloud about it, to the surprise of her lover. It seemed natural to do the same today and, lifting her buttocks, Claire inserted the toy under herself, gently letting her hips rest down again upon it. Although she usually didn’t derive much joy out of this, this time, she did experience a pang of arousal at the sensation of the hopeless struggle under her ass. Biting her finger in wanton abandon, she ground her hips in a circular motion, driving the living toy deep in the mattress. She moaned. Maybe there was something to this fetish after all, she thought, fleetingly.

Using restraint wasn’t usually Claire’s forte in any sex games, and today she had plenty of fun chasing the toy around, crushing it, smothering it, pressing it. She showed no mercy, rubbing every inch of her body, biting it, sucking it, and playfully petting it between two assaults. But at the same time, she was admittedly a bit of a control freak, and that’s how she did manage to slow down her arousal , so as to reach the maximum level of urgency and frustration. After one joyful hour of intense foreplay, she had reached a point where release was demanded by every ounce of her flesh. Kissing the toy a last time (“Anna, thank you, sweetie”, she said aloud in a gasp of anticipation) , she opened her thighs wide, lifting her pelvis high , and inserted the wondrous little body in her wet and now desperate vagina. The little arms fought the insertion delightfully, but the little screams got slowly muffled, and after a few squirming motion, the toy slided easily inside the well lubricated folds. An explosion of sensation suddenly radiated from her inner self, and Claire let out the first cry-out of her coming orgasm.

John Hingsley was truly scared now by the beautiful young woman. As he lay on the pillow, pinned by her finger, he had all the time to look back into the vast green eyes that contemplated him. Never before had he seen Claire look at him like this, almost like a cat staring at a mouse. The hunger in her gaze was overwhelming. Claire had always looked at him with a cold indifference, as one usually looks at a bar of soap or a toothpick. He knew well enough she had only used him so far as an instrument, a mean to an end. And only during the last moments before insertion had she ever watched him with any degree of urgency. Today was different. He could feel, almost taste,  how her gaze was invested with intense longing and with something close to adoration. She did not look at him as an inanimate object, but as if he was her true lover. Anna, on the other hand, had often considered him with intensity, as if, for reason unclear to John, she had tried to will him to life, to be real human being, a fact that had duped his hopes for many weeks, before he could see the fantasy behind it. Claire, today, was looking at him as if she was about to talk to him. It was truly frightening.

His head nearly entered the huge nostril of the strangely intense young woman. His shouts echoed deep inside the vast nose that was near as big as him. She was breathing so deep on him, John could feel his own lungs empty and fill from the force of the gales, as if he was being resuscitated against his will. Moments later he cringed at the sticky slab of a tongue that probed his entire body. His face became drippy from the hot saliva. The grip on his body was rough and kept tightening to the verge of smothering. What was she on? On he went to visit her nipple…

The ordeal started shortly after this strange prelude, and John was left roaming the vast sheet under the shadow of a humongous naked body that hovered over him like a black storm cloud. It would come down on him suddenly, crushingly, trapping him under a gurgling belly, a round thigh, a squishing breast. Claire sat on him for minutes on end, her full weight obliterating his body, trapping him into darkness. Her grinding hips nearly dislocated each of his bones. Running for his life, John Hingsley was now in full panic. The games intensified, the body of the woman a constantly moving landscape into which he was pressed , rolled on, dragged onto, without relent. His head deep into her throat, John breathed in the smell of the recently eaten vegetable, a mammoth epiglottis opening wide under his head.

Blacking out wasn’t John’s habit, but Claire sucked on him so hard, he could feel his blood surging through his body, as if he was a hollow tube. The blackouts were short and frequent, but it seemed to him Claire kept him hours in her mouth. The air he breathed was hardly provided the oxygen he needed.

On and on, he stood his ground, tried to dodge, tried to find a manageable position in this squeezing universe of flesh and heat. Manipulated and dangled and tossed, he tried to keep his focus on one thing: avoid the final crush. Claire was so intensely searching and controlling her arousal he had the feeling she would eventually lose it and kill him under her weight or bite him in two. The moans and gasps and eve- changing pace of her masturbation was panic-inducing to say the least.

Eventually, a moaning Claire took him in an iron grip and the complex geography of her massive crotch approached him. The first collision with her clitoris nearly broke his neck, and he nearly wished it had, when a few minutes later, the long black painted nails of his tormentor opened wide the already pouring entrance of her vagina. John  Hingsley tried of course to resist the young woman,  but he was no match to her desires. His head entered the fleshy tube, and in a second, his body was pushed deep in darkness and heat and smell. The walls of the vagina hugged him tight, throbbing and pulsating. John went deep and then deeper, and for the next half hour, he was not allowed to see the light of day. The monstrous body about him seemed to go into convulsions.

When he had brought her to a thunderous orgasm, John did try to squirm his way out of Claire’s vagina, but a finger lazily pushed him back, just as he was about to get a gulp of fresh air. Within the near liquid confines of the slowly relaxing sex, John Hingsley, ex- board administrator and gentleman of the world, was indeed allowed at last to rest a while in the darkness, lying on his belly in a pool of fluid, the pulsating walls pressing firmly on his back. His heartbeat fell into unison with the vast body’s rhythm , as the distant booms of its giant heart were slowing down to a  more regular pattern. Once in a while, a slight convulsion of the living cell  would allow a very brief ray of light to filter from the entrance ahead. It would hit a very pink fleshy spot and then disappear.

Yet for an eternity , John was unable to come out. It seemed to him the body was moving around, standing and sitting at times, as if Claire had decided to let him inside her for the rest of the evening. He could feel the vast thighs moving. Above him some gurgling sounds possibly indicated she was drinking something. When the light poured from the opening vulva (a large fingertip inserting itself near john’s head) the desperate man launched himself outside. His torso had hardly emerged, his hands fumbling on the now dry folds, his lungs hungry for gulps of fresh air, that he felt two heavy fingers press against him.

His body was lifted above a still naked Claire and came down on the vast rectangular surface of a sheet of paper. The paper still smelled of fresh ink, and John’s mind just about registered the red stain of lipstick at the bottom of the page when he was pressed carefully onto the page. As he was lifted again, the wet greasy contour of a tiny human body was left, a comic signature for a knowing lover.

John squealed and struck his fist against the fingers that held him, as a beaming Claire casually set the page on the desk nearby, passed a towel over his body and started to open a small UPS box.

Claire was pleased with the little imprint on her letter. She knew Anna would like it too. She kissed the toy and was about to encase it in the new bubble wrap she had prepared for postage, when a thought struck her suddenly. The imprint was a good idea, but she thought she could enhance it further. She really wanted Anna to smell her joy, to smell the orgasm she had with her . She looked at the toy. Maybe she shouldn’t have cleaned her juices off the little body, then.

Throwing herself back on the bed, the young woman closed her eyes and smiled lazily, conjuring up images of her lovely Anna. It wasn’t long before her hand wandered along her body and brought the toy against her clitoris. Every little contact brought out a funny tiny scream from the toy, but also a tingling sensation that was the promise of more ecstasy. Claire passed her tongue upon her lips, and sighed happily. She kept pressing the struggling toy on her now sensitive clitoris. Gently. Gently. Very gently, at first….

DAY 550

John woke up in the darkness of the box. Tremors and loud noises were erupting all around him. The voices were definitely conveying a French accent. In a few hours, his box would be resting in the hands of an excited Anna, eager to share her joy with her favourite little messenger…

Tbc

THE SCHEDULE  PArt V

3 years later…

Anna planted a kiss on the brow of her sleeping lover. They were both exhausted, having made love for nearly two hours, and Svetlana was already snoring lightly, curled in a ball on her side of the bed. Anna smiled, and gently edged her way out of the bed. She slowly removed the bed sheet that covered her lover. Being somewhat intransigent on the matter of hygiene, she rolled the sweat soaked sheet into a ball and took another cover from her drawer.

Before she covered the naked body of Svetlana with the freshly ironed sheet, Anna could not help admiring the supple and curvaceous forms of the Hungarian girl. Everything in this girl was a dream, from the long legs and feminine figure to the soft and sweet scented skin that was exposed in her sleep. A little motion attracted Anna’s eyes down at the junction of the two pale thighs. Lost just under the triangle of the well trimmed bush , a little appendage seemed to move in a disorganized fashion. Anna smiled. Svetlana had apparently not removed the toy from her vulva and now a tiny hand was blindly struggling to reach the first pubic hairs, but with no results whatsoever as the weight of the now pressing thighs prevented the toy from extracting itself from the vagina in which it was buried.
 
For a second, Anna was tempted to tug at the little hand that was emerging between Svetlana’s thighs and try to extract the toy from their fleshy embrace , but she knew she would only succeed in waking up her lover. She let the bed sheet flow over Svetlana’s body, covering the little struggle under. She had introduced Svetlana to the pleasure of keeping the toy inside while sleeping, and the pleasant surprise its little motions could create in the depth of night, at times inducing a discreet but lovely orgasm. She smiled again and joined Svetlana in the bed. Soon she began to sense her lover’s thighs slowly rubbing against one another, as the sleeping woman was reacting no doubt to the sensations procured by the toy. If truth must be said, Anna did feel a pang of envy and the temptation to “steal” the toy for herself.
From under the bed sheet, in the silence of the dark room, the hardly perceptible and muffled squeals from the desperate toy did not prevent Anna from drifting into sleep.

………………………………………………………………………..

It had taken a few months for Anna to recover from Claire’s betrayal. The parting letter (all the more cruel that they had exchanged the toy so many times over the express mail, and the post office visit had become synonym of great joy to her for many months) , the desperate phone calls, the cold tone of Claire, as she described her affair with an American girl, all this turmoil had send waves of disruption in Anna’s life, sending her usually settled self bobbing up and down like a hollow shell on a raging sea. How she managed to finish her studies in  that atmosphere of loss and betrayal and heartache was a surprise to herself.

Then she had met Svetlana at the Instant café during a visit to Budapest, where a conference was held on her PhD topic. What had started as a casual night out together had blossomed into a full-grown love story, and to her amazement, Anna had seen the colours come back into her world, while Claire’s memories started to fade into their proper significance.
Svetlana was an assistant to Pr. Patullo, a noted biologist, whose speech was to be a key-point in the coming conference. She was beautiful, and witty, and sensitive, and had courted Anna so charmingly, so discreetly, Anna had hardly noticed how close they were becoming till it already seemed an accomplished and decided state of affairs.  After months of raging frustration, Anna was coming to her own again, something she could never do without the support of a loving relationship.

Over this long period of turmoil and revival, it had not escaped Anna that somehow the expensive  (and wonderfully sophisticated) sex toy she had purchased three years before had come to play a peculiar role in her life.
At first Anna had sunk into a sombre depression and had somewhat transferred her anger on the toy that used to be the messenger of Claire’s love. She had one night taken it out of its box and played cruel games with it, as if punishing it for not succeeding in preserving the bond it was supposed to create between them. She had crushed it under her body, flung it high in the air, stepped on it, and bitten it, her eyes in tears and a growl in her throat. Thankfully, the toy’s strong resistance to damage had prevented her from actually destroying it during this bout of futile revenge-taking. Then, somewhat relieved, she had buried the toy and its box under her jumpers and did not open that drawer for the next three months.

Then the purely sexual frustration from her sudden isolation had brought a period during which she used the toy constantly. While her mind was distracted from grief by her concentration on her PhD, she alleviated the need for companionship by over-indulging her body. Morning, afternoon and nights, she had the toy constantly servicing her, and she extracted as many orgasms as she could from the little body, drowning her own misery in physical pleasure. She had sex with it, as if it was a real partner, talking dirty to it and even  seducing it, letting the fetish side of her sexual self take over in an unreasonable fashion. She slept with it inside her sex, or held it fiercely tight all night in her hand, only to use it again first thing in the morning.

It took Anna a  month (and some remarks from her college tutor over her tired looks) to fully realize how addicted she had become to this self-indulgence but thankfully, she then quickly returned to a more reasonable use of her favourite toy. The wounds were healing. Then come on stage Svetlana, during this fateful trip to Budapest. The toy instantly lost its over-inflated importance, to become again the simple tool of pleasure between two enamoured lovers, as it was meant to be. 
Anna was glad it had proved so durable and took great care of it once again, locking it carefully in the bow every night (well, when neither of them wanted it as an inner companion for the night, that is…) . She was glad her new companion had taken quite soon  to using it as well, and full of new ideas for their sex life. All the heartache seemed so far away now.

[i]When it comes to Claire ‘s betrayal,  John had the dubious honour to be on the front seat.
For many months a routine had settled in, that saw him stuffed in well-prepared packages and shipped regularly between France and the States. On each arrival John was always greeted by an eager young woman, very much in a hurry to use him to satisfy her needs and connect once more with her missing partner. It had been a period of hope for John, as every trip was potentially offering the opportunity for the process to go wrong, for the package to be lost, and opened by another person. The girls had become so accustomed to his screams and antics, they obviously no longer questioned his struggle and pleas and mimics, and took them for granted, the welcome agitation of an efficient toy. John knew his hopes rested upon the reaction of a third party discovering him.

Which is what happened so many months ago, to his great disappointment. That day he had landed in an America airport as usual, had been tossed around as always among the many packages the plane was carrying, and then brought eventually to the door of an expectant Claire. John’s senses had attuned to his dark and confined environment, and his mind was able to project him outside the box to re-build a fragment of the huge world around it, based only on the audible clues that reached him. He even recognized the voices of some of the employees of the postage center he always transited through. When he reached the doorstep of Claire apartment, he knew exactly where he was.

A second voice was to be heard in the flat, as Claire carried the box inside. It was a feminine voice, sounding quite excited, and inquiring about the box. Claire answered (with a strong French accent) that it was “it” , of course. John was puzzled to realize Claire had mentioned his existence to another person. And when the package was opened, and the light rushed to his dark-accustomed eyes, John saw two huge faces leaning towards him.
Trish –it was her name- was a wonderful red-hair girl, with many freckles, a slender neck, and the proverbial green eyes. Her voice was so high pitch , John could understand her better than most human beings, his ear more adapted now to those frequencies (to him some syllables uttered by the French girls were totally lost at times, giving their speech a strange syncopated rhythm). The American girl immediately extracted him out of the foam and started to manipulate him. To John it was now customary to be hanging in the air, his hips or legs in the grip of monstrous figures, while overhead huge bill-board like faces considered him.

A few minutes later, John Hingsley, shrewd business man now reconverted to efficient sex toy, found himself in the familiar bedroom, standing in the middle of Claire’s stadium size bed, while the two huge women started to shed their clothes, exciting giggles in their throats. Soon, a very naked Trish sat onto the mattress and leaned over his puny form, fingers extended in his direction, heavy pale breasts hanging far above his head. On the other side, the vast body of Claire was settling also onto the bed, sending shock-wave across the moving landscape of cotton. A few seconds later, he was being exchanged between the two girls to take a loving tour of their breasts and nipples and necks and inner thighs, in a concert of kissing noises and sighs (Trish’s skin smelled of cinnamon, and was a new and novel landscape to the little man).
 John was surprised of course to see Claire betraying her beloved Anna, but his own involvement in this world of giant bodies did not include developing much sympathy for his captors. And even if  he had tried to reflect on this at this junction, it did not take long before the slow foreplay turned into a heated affair, before the sighs turned deeper, the skins hotter and soon his usual challenge had started, as he tried to dodge immense legs and crushing bellies, and stubbornly performed his futile attempts at delaying the inevitable. Claire’s unsavoury behaviour was by now far from his priorities. Soon enough Claire’s fingers were gently inserting John in her lover’s hot and dripping vagina, in a cacophony of moans and giggles and delicate loving words. Once again, the world disappeared to be replaced by the  dark, wet and hot tunnel of flesh that was now John’s natural working place.

John wasn’t otherwise surprised when, after a few hours of play, Claire did not direct him into the usual package but carefully stored him into her desk’s drawer. He knew well enough he wasn’t going straight way back to France.

“The third part discovery” theory did not work too well over the next two weeks, as John got to know Trish intimate regions very well indeed, and none of his protest gestures attracted anything more than an enamoured sigh from this new  young player. John’s world consisted in no more than the inside of the drawer and the overwhelming landscape of their hot and sweaty naked bodies. The only plus was that he actually understood them, as Claire spoke good English,  but to be lying on the cotton sheet, while huge girls above him casually said something like “Do you want it inside now?” or “ I love how it resists, it’s soooo sexy” was hardly an improvement.  He did get to listen to a very dramatic phone call to Anna , though, while a silent Trish held him absent-mindedly on her naked breast.
A week later, Claire had kissed him with a regretful look in her eyes, before sending him back to Anna, which an exhausted John had thought was somehow a decent gesture on her part.

From then on, keeping his sanity had been a full-time job for John.
The grief-stricken Anna had received him back in her Paris home with a pained look in her eyes, and discarded him at once in the darkness of the underwear drawer. For many days, all John could hear on the outside was much sobbing and angry phone calls. Unfortunately, Anna did regain an interest for her little captive, but with an edge he could have done without. That day, an inebriated and angry colossal being had treated him as a piece of meat to be tormented and destroyed. John, totally distraught, had done his best to run away from the enormous body that was so bent on crushing him, but how does one escape a being hundreds of time larger than you? He had found out for the first time how powerful and cruel those beautiful teeth of her could be. And at the same, beyond the obvious pain, he had realized how resilient his diminished body could be. A sobbing Anna had bitten on him hard, and even inserted his head between her powerful molars, but pain was the only reward, not the crushing death a screaming John feared and hoped for at the same.

John had watched in horror as an angry Anna had brought her huge  body hovering over him, before sitting down squarely on his tiny frame and he had squirmed in disbelief and pain as she had  tried to smear him into the mattress, her huge ass-cheek crushing him relentlessly. Losing all hope (and all oxygen) John could do nothing but suffer the darkness and the immense pressure under the vast body of the crying girl. That is, till he was flung onto the floor, gasping and dazed,  unable to get up, as he  watched Anna’s feet settle on either side of him, when the giant girl sat on the edge of the bed, considering him with a  dark and lost look in her eyes  (whose makeup had ran down her lovely cheeks). Slowly the young woman had lifted her right foot and John did not have the strength to defend himself as Anna’s face was replaced by the underside of her foot and she proceeded to awkwardly grind his body into the lush carpet. John’s panic was made worse by the murdering look in those vast eyes and the foot settling on him ushered him into a very real agony. .
When later Anna squashed him hard with her vaginal muscles, during a desperate and pitiful orgasm, John had no strength left in his body, no more indeed than an inert piece of meat. It took a long while for the bruises to wear off…

 This horrible experience was soon followed by three months of darkness and solitude under the scented underwear of his captor, three months during which John hung on to his memories, his broken dreams, and listened carefully to the life outside. At times, it seemed to him he had never been part of this world, had never been a huge being that was holding  just as much power as the enormous woman that made the ground shake with each of her step. At times, John actually felt he had really  been made for her pleasure, and his previous life was an insane dream inhabiting his insignificant body.

The ordeal of this trimester of isolation had been followed by a sudden and relentless search for pleasure, of which he was the main tool. One day, Anna had opened the drawer and John had stared hard into the vast blue eyes that looked down on him. The long fingers took hold of him, and a tired Anna had brought him slowly to her bed. A struggling John had then been used for hours to stimulate every part of her body, in an insistent and joyless way. Drowning in her inner juices during the first orgasm, John was being introduced to the most intense bout  of service he had ever experienced with his captor.
It seemed to John she just couldn’t get enough out of him. Orgasm after orgasm, she relentlessly sought more pleasure, using John indiscriminately in the day or in the night, in her bedroom or elsewhere in the house. Her hold on him was so tight and careless, John felt even more degraded, to the level of an every-day object (he had been used, after all to some consideration from the girls who used him). Anna never washed him and just stuffed him roughly back in his box in apparent disgust, before coming back one hour later for more play, a moody expression on her face.
She was using him now regularly now in her bathroom, drowning him under bubbly waters, or in the shower, when she came back from university. She used him while watching TV, or early in the mornings. John had tried to use those moments to communicate with her, but it was clear the girl was not receptive to anything he could try, and his attempts were  lost in the vicious circle of self –indulgement  the young woman was going through. 

Then things quieted down, as the Anna he knew, his usual unaware and loving and at times adorable captor came back to her senses, then  fell in love again (John listened to the phone calls, which, being now  in English at last, gave him an added grip on reality). John‘s life also returned to a normal rhythm, which meant he was once again free to feel the whole desperation of his situation.
Three years had passed by, three years during which his personality has slowly shifted from the dominant man he once was, to that of a permanently vanquished and humiliated prisoner. Three years during which he still dreamt of freedom and a return to his normal state. Three years of quiet desperation. John knew he now was surely declared dead in the real world and his life was taking a turn for the worst. Boredom, fear, and humiliation were again his slow and nagging companions. Claire’s departure, along with the harsh treatment it had spurred for him, had also re-enforced the strange and ambivalent feelings John entertained for Anna. The violence and total domination she exerted on him had slowly acquired a faint glow of …attachment.  Anna  had become the centre of John’s existence and he studied every move she did, every clue he could get as to her life. This huge, vast and beautiful being was slowly replacing in his mind all the acquaintances he had had during his normal life. Compared to her, to her power, and to her beauty, all those people he had met before seemed to him more and more insignificant. When Anna had started to flirt again, John was strangely torn between the hope it created in him ,as a new comer might detect him as a real person, and a weird feeling of jealousy, as he would no longer be the exclusive source of her pleasure. (His rational mind did remind him an extra lover also meant twice the “work” for him ) .
His concerns unheeded by the now joyful Anna, he was now waiting to meet the new lover, and hoping she would prove to be his liberator. [/i]

Anna’s fear that Svetlana may not appreciate the toy was funded on the shyness she had displayed during their first intimate meetings in Budapest. She had proved to be a wonderful lover, attentive, caring and beautiful to behold, but definitely not as kinky as Claire could be. When she visited Anna for the first time in Paris, Anna did not dare to suggest using the toy, afraid she might appear too forceful and too wild to her new friend.
But when she did eventually break the ice about her sex toy, Svetlana, passed the first moments of amazement (during the which toy displayed a surprising amount of gestures and squeals and postures, as if it too was aware it had a new user), was absolutely delighted at the touch and feel of the little body, and was more than willing to experiment with it. She flashed a beautiful smile at Anna. “Oh, can we try it now? Pleaaase!”  Anna was only too happy to indulge her and beamed back in response. Svetlana, the struggling toy in her hand by her hip, beckoned her to the bedroom, her long blond hair whooshing around her shoulders.

………………………………………………………………………………………………..

[i]It was cold and sticky and sweet tasting. His whole body was covered with the white substance, and he was trying his best to prevent his eyes from being glued closed. Under him the huge breast was hot and soft and slightly gave under his weight. Trying to steady himself on the heaving ground, John has set a hand on a now turgescent nipple, a simple gesture that triggered a monstrous sigh somewhere above his head. Turning round John could see Anna’s long neck as a veritable cliff above him, as the young woman closed her eyes  and let her head back on the pillow. Not far from him on his right the long and colossal arm of the young woman was stretching down towards her the plain of her stomach and her hand was applying forceful motions somewhere beyond the shimmering bush.

But landscape gazing was not really on John’s mind, as a vast shadow was now approaching fast from the left. Sitting perpendicularly to Anna, a beautiful and vast being was coming back closer, having deposited the whipped cream can back on the bedstand. Svetlana was a sight to behold, her nubile-looking body a vast approaching cliff of curvaceous pale flesh, projecting its shadow now all over Anna’s body. She had a very slim waist, enhancing the  well shaped hips that lead to long and slender thighs. She came over John and Anna like a  pale storm of flesh, and in a second, the beautiful face was dropping towards John, till the parted lips became his only view.

The tip of a massive tongue landed on John Hingsley, pushing him back into the breast flesh (to which another moan erupted from Anna’s lips), smothering him against the erect nipple, and the big hot slab of tremulous flesh licked his torso free of whipped cream. John tried to wriggle his way down the breast, his body now directly under the vast mouth, receiving the brunt of the hot breath. All around him a golden curtain of long blond hair had cut him off from the world. Above him, the huge lips were being licked clean, ( the face of the young woman was hardly  comprehensible to the confused man). He squealed in protest, as the lips came back, and a blob of saliva landed squarely on his chest. For a confusing moment, john was caught between the breast and the crushing push of Svetlana’s hot mouth. The whipped cream was licked away from his entire body, while John’s fists battled helplessly against the wet tongue that assaulted him. The nipple in his back was coming alive with excitation, and the vast face of Svetlana had hardly risen again above him that trunk size fingers (and John recognized Anna’s’ touch instantly) were already pushing him deeper into the breast flesh. Pinned in the saliva- covered surface, John saw the underside of Svetlana’s neck fly quickly over him , as the two lovers went for a passionate embrace. Rising now in front of John, a new breast had appeared , like a moving cliff, and came resting upon his body, stifling his shouts, as the two women were already forgetting his existence and he was lost to them in a sandwich of mammal flesh. 

John’s existence among those monstrous bodies was certainly less frightening than it used to be, but no matter how often the occurrence, there was no getting used to these moments of utter pressure and fear, when he found himself stuck for any reason under a thigh, or between bellies. It was each time as if his own flesh was melting between the hot surfaces, as if he was absorbed in the monumental struggle of those huge bodies, like a mere bead of sweat on their skins. Being used was one thing, being squashed into insignificance between the lovers was truly a humbling and scary experience. Svetlana’s arrival on the scene had brought back those intense moments  and  added her own personal touch to the massive love making he was privy (and accessory) to. John Hingsley started to spend much more time inside young women’s mouths than ever before. [/i]

Anna, who had so long hesitated to convey to her lover the strange flavours of her fetish, had been delighted by the response of her new companion. Not only was Svetlana more than responsive and supporting (she had heard of the fetish, but had not experienced it like this before), but she had added to it her own cravings, which, as it turned out, revolved rather around food games.  For such a nimble bodied person, Svetlana had an inordinate fondness for merging sex and food, in a truly refined manner.
Anna found herself often reclining on her bed while various food was deposited on her body and a hungry, horny Svetlana served both her lover and her own appetite. It was both fun and sexy and apart from the occasional chill some cold food would create, this playful practise enhanced nicely what was quickly becoming a really full-filling sex live. Of course, Anna had insisted the toy should become one of the main ingredients on the menu, a request Svetlana had whole-heartedly approved.
From then on, the tiny body had been dipped in many various sauces, chocolate and otherwise, hot and cold, sweet and sour, and methodically licked and sucked upon. Anna loved to dangle it, dripping with chocolate sauce over the expectant tongue of Svetlana, who was caught between her moans of delight at the touch below, and the greed for the little body so close to her mouth. This combination offered the best of both world to Anna, who got to enjoy her own interest , as the terrified little man (or so she thought of it, in her imagination) dangled over the wide opened mouth of the blond girl, while at the same servicing the kink of her lover.

As a result , the scope of their love-making started also to enlarge and encompass the bright and comfortable kitchen in Anna’s flat, and they invited the toy to many a culinary foreplay, involving much chocolate, much honey, and generally creating a sexy and joyful mess. The reaction of the toy had been really pleasing to both girls, and they were truly amazed how versatile its programming had to be to cope with such a new environment. Running away from the large bowls, or struggling its way out of a honey jar, or rolling around the flour, the toy provided both girls a fantastic little show of life, that ended inevitably inside their mouths, before moving on later  to the inside of their sex.
Svetlana was of course delighted, and was much turned on by the toy, and the flavour it conveyed on his smeared body, Anna was much turned on  by the ravenous look in Svetlana’s eyes, as she slowly approached her running prey on the table.  Anna and Svetlana, who had otherwise their issues regarding their couple life (as any couple has) , had found  a perfect balance in their sex lives, and the ideal partner.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

[i]The suction has long before drained all his blood down to his ankles, and John was about to lose consciousness when the mouth opened again, light flooding his rosy jail. He gasped wildly, his hands reaching out already beyond the lush lips , in an effort to haul himself out of the hot mouth. He was trying to find a foot hold on the molars under him, his feet slipping on the wet boulders, while Svetlana’s front teeth came lazily to a rest on his shoulders. Although he was aware he was a bit much to swallow, John had always felt a mortal terror at the presence of the deep deep throat under his feet. Above him, the kitchen ceiling was high and white, a true artificial sky of immense proportions. Resting a second half extracted from the mouth, his body shaken by the rough tongue against his hips and legs, he considered the small expense of chin in front of him, and beyond it, the impressive length of the naked body that lied ahead, reclining on the table at the centre of the room. As he fought to regain his breath, a shadow made him look up. A smiling Anna, wearing nothing under a comical apron, was standing next to the table, like a colossal statue of flesh, and from her high raised hand , a large spoon was descending in his direction. He shouted for mercy , as the metallic object hovered a few centimetres over his prison and he felt the mouth under him opening wider, as the content of the spoon appeared to brim over.

The first liquid touch of the honey hit him directly on top of the head, while his body was being hauled out of the mouth by an extended tongue. John was feeling the very weight of the viscous flow settling and running along  his spine and legs, covering him entirely, and flowing further down the awaiting throat of the young woman. He was still fighting the honey away from his nose and mouth, when the tongue started to retract, the upper teeth flew over his head, and gravity pulled him downwards. As the lips closed down and a deafening hum of satisfaction erupted from behind him, John squealed when he felt his feet brushed by the uvula below and when the tongue forced him to curl in the narrow space, his right shoulder pressed hard against the palate above. The sucking started immediately, nearly piercing his eardrums, and the saliva came flooding all crannies in the cavity while the tongue tasted him in a relentless massage.

A few seconds later the mouth opened again and John closed his eyes and instinctively thrust his arms forward in a futile attempt to fend off the next spoonful of honey. What entered, however , was no honey, but the hot, smelly, and damp breath of a woman. John only got the benefit of a few rays of light , filtering behind the entering tongue, before confusion swept through his mind. Sandwiched between the two interlacing tongues, balloted between the hard teeth, pushed under, pulled forward, his skin slipping on the wet taste-buds of the two girls, John fought against the kiss, a fight he was never to win. Anna’s tongue was softer than Svetlana, he knew this from experience. And her breath had a different smell to it. So in the tossing and pulling and squeezing that took place, John knew well enough when he was finally pushed into her mouth by a mischievous Svetlana. His head was touching the back of Anna’s throat already, the uvula splayed across his neck, when the fight stopped and an ascending motion told him (his feet outside the mouth conveying the rush of air ) Anna had won the kissing contest and was taking her prize in her mouth, as she stood up.
With a yelp of fear, John managed to turn round in the young woman’s mouth, just as she finally opened wide and extended her tongue outside. A sudden lurch of nausea overtook John, when the claustrophobic confine of her mouth was replaced by the vertigo inducing sight of the large room around him. Very far below, the vast body of Svetlana was revealed to him, in its naked glory, as the girl looked at him with much amusement in her eyes, still licking the honey from her half opened mouth.

Anna turned her head and the entire landscape veered around at a terrific speed. John was getting pretty tired now too, having been played with for nearly one hour. But he knew the session was coming to an end when the vast head that held him dropped towards the naked body, and he was presented with another pair of wet, luscious, eager, but very different type of lips. Large fingers crept from above the slightly hairy edge of the enormous crotch and proceeded in parting the blood-gorged lips. A rosy throbbing tunnel was revealed and the mouth moved closer. As his torso was being pushed gently against the hot folds by the powerful tongue, the smelly whitish liquid attaching itself already to his arms and shoulders in elastic viscous strands, John took a deep breath. He knew he had to maintain his strength inside. After all, when this girl would come at last, he would still have another eager vagina to attend to…[/i]

Anna purred softly, opened her eyes, and smiled at her lover. Svetlana was radiant looking, her long naked body crossing the room with the lightness of an elf, as she walked towards the kitchen. (Svetlana never postponed the cleaning of their mess till the morning, but always performed the task with no hint of annoyance or impatience whatsoever, as if it was part indeed of the routine of love-making). Anna listened to the first clanging noises from the kitchen, letting her sweat evaporate from her skin. She was happy again. It seemed so unlikely, but she was happy again. All the heartache and pain from the past months had vanished, washed away by the love and joyfulness of her new companion. She was still undecided as to whether she had a fickle heart, or if indeed her relation with Claire had been a necessary step, a lesson she had to learn, to find a love deeper and more lasting.
She got up, went to her desk and took out her faithful diary. She also picked up the fountain pen Claire had offered to her for her last birthday. She still liked it. Propping up her large pillow, she settled back in the comfort of the bed, and stared a while at a new blank page.
Absentmindedly, she pushed back the struggling toy deeper into her vagina, and then started to write.

tbc

nostromo

One year later…..

All in all, it was going fine. Anna had had her doubts about this symposium, and had wondered whether she was going to waste a full week attending a series of boring and non-informative meetings. It turned out the sessions offered a much better output  than expected and some of the presenters, especially Dr Cavendish, from the Glasgow University, had steered Anna’s reflections toward fresh and challenging avenues of research.
Anna ‘s position in her own university had now been recently consolidated and she was feeling she was coming to her own at last, in terms of independent thinking. It was with a spring in her steps that she entered her hotel room at last, feeling at long last that she did maybe belong now to those circles of scientists that travelled too much and exchanged ideas near the coffee machines of their cheap hotels. It was truly a good period for her, she decided, setting her briefcase on the chair.
She grabbed the phone and called Svetlana. Although a year and a half had passed, the intensity of their relationship did not seem to abate, and they kept in touch through the numerous travels with the same eagerness they had experienced in the beginnings.

Svetlana was all fire on the phone, and yet there were again those usual moments of silence, so typical of their conversations,  when each was listening to the other’s breathing, with an intensity of yearning that was nothing short of erotic. Anna, the phone tucked against shoulder and ear, opened the top drawer of the antique wardrobe, and extracted the box. It was all worn out now, its white cardboard sheath all damaged and yellowed by usage. But when she opened it, the toy, staring at her from its foam casing was still as new as ever. On the phone a deep sigh came through, proof that her mind and Svetlana’s were already on the same wavelength.

It was the Hungarian girl that had introduced Anna to the erotic pleasure of sex conversation over the phone. At first Anna had been a bit shocked and bothered by the idea. But she remembered well the very first session they had, the astonishment she had felt at experiencing the erotic charge of Svetlana’s disembodied voice, at hearing the intimate and suggestive ideas that this voice kept offering, and she remembered how her body had connected to that voice with unrestrained abandon. Her ear glued to the phone, her mind in a turmoil, she had been truly moved and aroused by Svetlana’s relentless description of what she was doing to the toy. It had been so teasing to listen to her lover explains what her next move would be, and then to actually listen to her doing those things to it, with the  toy’s cute yelps and screams bringing the scene right into her mind with amazing clarity. Yes, it had been wonderful from the start. And Anna had not been long to whisper her own instructions to her far away lover, asking her to love the toy in all sorts of improbable scenarios and positions.

Tonight, it was her turn to entertain Svetlana, as he had taken the toy with her for this long week of separation. With fumbling fingers, she extracted the little man from its protective foam.

John was travelling again. It could have been a good respite from the usual ordeal, but unfortunately he was not travelling alone. Deep within the suitcase of the young woman, he had now accompanied her in a multitude of short trips all over the world. He was now well used to the routine of airports, with their announcements, conveyor belts, rough handling. He was used to the inside of the suitcase, as well as to the inside of the plane over-head compartment. (He could hear below him the meal being served, the chatter of the passengers, the security announcements of the air hostesses, he was truly a passenger in his own way). It did remind him cruelly of the many travels he had done himself, in the course of his busy and reckless career within the firm. The recollections made him dizzy with disbelief. He could still picture himself sitting under, in an executive class seat, relishing some expensive wine. He could remember fitting his laptop into the over-head compartment, before sitting down and enjoying a good nap. How could he ever have imagined then that one day, he would be inside one of those compartments, tucked inside a suitcase, while the passengers enjoyed (or dreaded, as the case may be) their flight. In moments like these, the whole situation was just too absurd to contemplate. In those moments, his arms caught in the foam, his head immobilized in its cradle, the tiny toy  he could not possibly be , was still waiting to wake up.

In front of him now, in the silence of the bedroom, a huge and clumsy Anna was shedding all her clothing in front of him, revealing her gigantic and yet beautiful body. A second later he was casually brought to her bed,  and set on her belly, whose warm soft ground already rose and fell to the rhythm of her increasing excitement.

“Did you lube it yet?”
“No, you’re right, let me do that”
John could distinctly hear both sides of the conversation. The phone was bigger than he was, Anna’s mouth near as large as he was. And John knew well enough what the girls were up to.
He let out an instinctive yelp when Anna’s mouth took position right below him and started to open wide, revealing the tremulous and wet tongue, the impeccable boulders of the teeth. He closed his eyes as he was pushed on the hot carpet of taste buds, greeted by    the clammy heat of the young woman’s mouth. He tried as always to protect his ears from the sudden pressure loss that inevitably came from the heavy sucking on his body.
Anna was salivating much now and all his body was quickly covered in the hot sticky substance. Only his feet were still outside, dangling in the cool air of the bedroom. As for his arms, John was trying to keep them away from the press-like teeth on either side. All his blood ebbed and flow to the rhythm of the sucking, rendering him near nauseous and at times  close to unconscious. 
“He’s ready, honey” what do you want me to do now? “ Anna’s voice was loud and yet sexy, even for John, as he hung down over her breasts now, his ankle pinned between hard flesh.
“Mmmmm…….. leave it for a while on your bush. I’m kissing you right now. The French sort.”
John was deposited on the well trimmed bush, gasping, while tiny drops of saliva adhered immediately to the pubic hairs. Much higher, beyond the vast slope of the body, John could see Anna staring intently at him, her phone in her hand.
“Oooo,  I love when you kiss like that. Kissing you  right back. Now should I leave it there? “
“No , just push him slowly with one finger over the edge of your mons. Let it fight it.”
“Sure thing”, giggled a relaxed Anna.
The massive finger dropped from the sky and like a living bulldozer, started to gently push John toward the abyss between the two high raised thighs. Hanging to some hairs, John did his best to resist the bulldozer power of the lone finger that nudged him forward, but not enough that his feet did not go over board and were dangling below, brushing against the first folds of the clitoris. A big sigh erupted from above.
“Ooowww, is it nice? Is he not just what you needed, sweety?” came the metallic voice in the phone.
“Mmmm, its’ really nice, yes. Wish it was you, though, but yes, its feet are really caressing my clit. Mmmmmm, yes, this is exactly what the doctor ordered <giggle>.”
A silence lasted a few seconds in the receiver. Obviously that last information was being processed on the other end of the line. The voice that resounded after this was definitely on edge, its tone seemed to have lost an octave or two. Things were heating up.

Something had broken inside John. Had he been suddenly granted his wish to enlarge back to his normal size, it is probable his friends and family would hardly have recognized the man he had become. This once powerhouse of will and energy and confidence had been well tamed by his long captivity and by the games he had been forced to play over and over and over again.
The struggling man fighting against the casual grip of two giant fingers, the desperate would-be mogul of finance screaming his throat raw before entering a dripping vagina, the proud man that searched every opportunity to escape the massive lovers at all cost, this man was indeed now but a shadow of himself. John had found his place in the world. And in spite of all his efforts, he was well on the road to acceptance. It is but a token of his pride and willpower that it took so long indeed.
John would fight still, his self-defence reflexes were still somehow giving him the strength to refuse the casualness of his treatment, but deep inside, he knew he had lost it. The girls had commented often on the fact he seemed less feisty than before, more cooperative. Hell, he was even actually trying to help now. He had understood his job.

In doing so, he also allowed the monstrous shapes that populated his world to acquire a renewed beauty. For a long time, the sheer size of those beings had prevented him to appreciate his tormentor’s looks to their true value. But no longer. To John, Anna and Svetlana had never seemed so beautiful. They were nimble, young, powerful beings, and John, for all his will to fight his condition, had embraced their beauty and their power over him. His struggle was slowly becoming a mockery of his early attempts. John knew Anna wanted him to struggle, wanted him to scream and protest, and now he was getting an odd sense of satisfaction from the eager and approving look in her eyes. Much against his better judgment, John was allowing at last a form of relationship to develop between him and his young captor. She was his world, and only human contact. She was his goal and only playground. Her life was the only drama he was aware of , apart from his own. A terrible affection was growing in him for the unaware young woman that owned him body and soul.
“Now, rub him on your thigh. Don’t let it touch your sex yet. Do it now”
The voice in the phone was eager, loving and excited. John immediately braced himself for the impact on the rosy wall of skin. Rolled slowly onto the warm flesh, treaded into it like living dough, John closed his eyes.

He was very wrong of course to let himself wrapped up in such thoughts. Anna was certainly not developing any feeling of any sort for her favourite toy. She had come to acknowledge the powerful impact of the thing on her love life, the cementing affect it had on her relationship with Svetlana (as it had before with Claire). But it is a fact also that it had at times bothered her that  a mere object, however elaborate, should have such influence on her well-being. Sure, sex was important to her, as she had developed indeed a healthy personality and a wholesome frankness about it. But she had indeed wondered about the addiction she could read into her frequent usage of the toy. She had thought at times that the toy was becoming a problem. It’s only following intense discussions with Svetlana that she had admitted with some relief that, if addiction there was, it was not hurting her or her partner, and that maybe it was in her nature and that of her peculiar fetish, to focus so much on this apparatus. She had then given up on the preposterous temptation to consult about it. (John, who had witnessed some of those discussions, had well realized a major opportunity for escape had been crushed by Anna’s comfortable stance).
Even now Anna was quite far from any compassionate thoughts for her toy, all focused as she was on the voice of her partner, listening to her very breathing on the line, and eager to follow the lovingly given instructions. During those magical moments, she felt Svetlana was the one caressing her and the toy was wholly forgotten, a mere extension of her lover’s voice.

“Start touching yourself. Gently.”
Anna brought the whining little thing close to her swollen clitoris. With one finger, she pressed its head on the sensitive hub, and applied a slow gyratory motion.  The toy’s body brushed deliciously against her labia, (so close, so frustratingly close, she thought). On the line, Svetlana‘s breathing was becoming erratic as well, in a wonderful congruence of feelings.
In an agony of pleasurable anticipation, Anna was now desperate to hear the words that would liberate her.

The moment was coming, as it always did, and there was nothing John could do about. Just now, breathing was already a problem, as a humongous finger tip was pressing his face into hot flesh. The sheer intensity of the action, the relentless and utter weakness of his position was an added factor to John’s near-stupor. The clitoris he was rubbed against was enormous, flagrant, bulging, the fingers that held him were beyond comprehension, the body he was about to enter was thousands of times heavier and mightier than he was. In fact, it was so vast and so close, it was impossible to acknowledge its immensity. In those final moments before entry, the world was only made of smell, heat and closely-felt body parts, into which his body, covered in intimate juices and sweat seemed ready to melt for ever into the rosy mass.

It was usually then that John experienced his moments of lucidity. He truly was no one. The young woman that held him was no longer aware of his presence, even as an object. She was moaning, and breathing harder, lost in the sensations, focused only on release and joy. The slightest motion , and John was carried wherever she wanted, the touch of a finger and he nothing but flesh against flesh, a sudden impulse of the joyful girl and he was crushed under tons of scented feminine body.  His yells and protests were lost in the powerful winds of her breathing, his very presence in her fingers were hardly registering against the hurricane of sensations coming from her wet flesh. Lost to the world, John Hingsley was an extension of her fingers, an instrument of joy, and the eagerly awaited tool of her pleasure. Anna‘s will mattered, her pleasure mattered, her bodily needs mattered. John Hingsley, his thoughts, feelings, experiences and dreams were swept away in the tempest of erotic trembling that was shaking the enormous body around him. Just below him, a hot, deep and rosy orifice was throbbing in expectation of his arrival, exuding an all powerful scent that blocked all his senses and muddled up his last sensible thoughts.
“Do it. Do it now, my love” the sudden electronic voice came from so far way….

Anna, half consumed already with pleasure, plunged the toy deep into her. Its easy entrance against her wet folds, marked by the quick silencing of its tiny screams, ushered her to the next stage of ecstasy. She clamped her vaginal muscles on the small wriggling body, shuddering with joy, while the loving moans of her far away lover crossed an ocean to mirror her own.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

 One month later…

The girls had moved from Anna’s old apartment, deemed too small now that they were both working and able to afford a more spacious accommodation. They had found this flat not too far from Montmartres district, their preferred place in Paris, and they had thrown away all their previous possessions to make room for all the newness and enthusiasm of their flowering relationship. Nearly everything Anna owned was discarded, a notion quite appealing to Svetlana, who was eager to feel the last traces of Claire’s presence disappear from her universe. A certain box, well kept inside the underwear drawer was nevertheless preciously conserved.
For John, the move had brought about his re-assignment inside a new chest of drawers, whose lighter wood and general lighter design had made easier for him to listen to the world outside. Anna’s underwear was still muffling the sounds somewhat, but a pattern of holes on the top of the drawers was now allowing some light to filter through the garments. At long last , John’s days were at least somewhat brighter and clearer to his acutely tune senses. John, the silent witness of Anna’s life, was getting a better and more comfortable view of the little dramas and joys of the young couple.

Svetlana’s relationship to the toy was an easy one by now. She did not worry about the pros and cons of using a dildo. She was a joyful nature, sure of her needs and wishes, and she had found in the toy a treasured ally in her quest for happiness. Addiction, un-natural practices, guilt, all these ideas were not coming a mile from her practical and open mind. She had embraced its usage with glee, adapted it tiny shape to her peculiar penchant for mixing food and sex. And she was altogether content with this little participant.
She had of course also noticed how the toy had evolved recently, from being extremely rebellious to being more responsive and accommodating to her games. It had for the longest time let out pitiful screams whenever she had dipped him in chocolate sauce or whipped cream, and had acted all peeved by the various food products she had him swim in before a visit in her mouth or Anna’s mouth. This incredible behaviour had been a major turn on to her and her lover, and there was something magical in holding this struggling body in one’s mouth, feeling its tiny strength against the tongue, while sucking it clean.
Today the toy was calmer, more sedate and had even at times climbed all by himself into a bowl of ice cream, as if its programming had interpreted the environment and adapted to the repetitive events. But to Svetlana this was in no way a bad development. Pushing the toy toward the bowl and watching him struggle to get inside was a fascinating sight, so coordinated it seemed. If its behaviour had changed, it was still a wondrous addition to all the sex games she had in mind for Anna.

As for Anna, she had at first not welcomed the slow changes in her toy. She definitely enjoyed the tiny fight that took place in her bed every evening. The toy had been the perfect answer to her peculiar fetish, and had brought its fantasy as close to life as she thought possible. The screams, pleas, and general resistance of the toy (incredibly well timed, as it seemed to increase with its proximity with her sex, or to Svetlana’s sex, through some miracle of programming) were for some reason perfectly in tune with her needs, and if she at times had worried about this aspect of her fetish, she acknowledged easily enough that it enhanced the games too much to even think of renouncing it.
When the toy slowly started to comply with her actions, a disappointed Anna had wondered what to do to renew the freshness of its early behaviour. There was no way she could contact someone about it, though. The toy had been acquired in the most secret fashion by her parents, and no tech support was ever going to be available for this product. But thankfully, Anna discovered another aspect of her fetish was being triggered by these new patterns. Whenever the toy seemed to actually participate in her arousal (it was not that often, mind you), however clumsily it tried, a feeling of peaceful dominance was washing over her, which she hadn’t really experienced before, when all the actions were of her own making. The idea she owned the toy so totally and had actually coerced it into behaving for her pleasure was somehow satisfying to the extreme. It wasn’t long before those new behavioural patterns were fully integrated in Anna’s and Svetlana’s lovemaking, to the full satisfaction of the two girls.

Crawling out of the vagina was the most uncomfortable moment for John Hingsley. Not only his ribs and limbs were still feeling the tremendous crush that had accompanied the young woman’s orgasm, but his exit was always clouded by the fear that she would forget about him. He had many times found himself half stuck in the vulva of one girl, trying to struggle out, only to be squeezed between colossal thighs and left there for minutes or hours on end. He had many times been able to crawl down to the soaked sheets , in the deep shadows of the bed, only to be suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden shift of the huge body, and buried alive under the colossal mass of the young woman’s ass. This was always a truly horrible ordeal  for John, who, even though he was aware he would never die from it, was still experiencing the crushing and darkness and unbelievable pressure in the most terrifying way. Pressed under thousands of tons of flesh, John had never been able to fight against the claustrophobic panic that would seize him. Dying under the rounded flesh, the fabric of the bed sheet painfully marking his body, suffocating for hours, John’s ordeal was made all the more humiliating that he knew that the girl who was crushing him so obliviously was probably cooing loving words to her partner, or settling down to read a book, or simply even already sinking into a restful sleep. Forgotten, crushed, and asphyxiating, John had spent indeed many a night under the voluminous body of one of the satisfied young women.

It was one of these anxious climbs out. He was just fighting his way through the hot dripping folds, in the utter darkness under the bed covers, happy to get out at long last. He had done his best to bring Anna to a glorious climax, had given her the full use of his body with the confines of her vagina, had pressed and touched what he thought was her most sensitive spot in order to hurry and better her immense pleasure. In an odd way, he had done his job as best as he could. But for now he just wanted to get out, get back into his box and fall asleep. Fortunately, Svetlana was away for the evening, and he could allow himself to hope Anna was satisfied enough and not in the mood for seconds.

. It was hard to find purchase on the hot flesh of the labia. And his body was just about passing through the tube of flesh where minors constrictions would suddenly grip him in a tight embrace and immobilize for a few seconds. The pool of intimate juice he was bathing in was making things worse, and his feet kept slipping uselessly on the elastic flesh beneath. A constant suction effect seemed to always pull him back in, as if the hungry organ was reluctant to let him go. Every move brought about unpalatable squelching sounds, and John despaired of getting free of the hot furnace. From behind him, loud organic rumblings were echoing at times, reminding him that the small tunnel he was struggling in was but a very small part of a much larger world of inner flesh, where inconceivably large organs were pumping, digesting, secreting. For a few minutes each day, John Hingsley was an integrate part of this huge organism, accomplishing his tiny function for the welfare of a huge unaware being. The immense weight of the unseen body seemed bent on keeping him inside now, as if to absorb him once and for all.
In a last exhausting effort, he pushed his head free at last, feeling the air against his wet skin. It was pitch dark, as he struggled to free his feet, already hanging down and groping for the unseen ground. He dropped at last to the bed sheet, feeling around him the ominous mass of the vast feminine crotch he was crawling from. He hardly had time to suck in a few breaths of warm air, that the sudden and horrendously loud ring of the phone shattered the quietness of the bedroom. John froze, as all around him the heavy mass of flesh started to shift. A second later , he was being pushed forward by a hot, sweaty and smelly wall, and had no choice but to get up and leap forward in the dark.  Then he felt a huge thigh move and block his way forward. It was too late to react, and he remained trapped within a minuscule enclosure of free space between the wet sex and the soft wall of a thigh. John Hingsley cowered in darkness and let his back rest on the sweaty flesh behind him. He could only sigh and hope for the best. The temperature in his cell kept climbing and sweat poured from his every pores.

Anna had enjoyed this evening on her own. The toy had played wonderfully in her vagina, and she idly wondered now, as she felt it struggling his way out of her, whether she shouldn’t keep in him and try to  work her a way to a second climax. She was bout to finger it back inside her when the phone rang.
She was surprised, Svetlana was not due to call her before tomorrow. Reaching out, she picked up the phone, absent-mindedly noticing the toy struggling against her inner thighs.
It was a hospital calling. Svetlana. A car accident. Anna suddenly felt she was about to puke. Shaking with horror, she managed to sit on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching the phone so hard, her knuckles were white. In her ear  the monotonous and polite voice was confirming her name and address. Anna could hear herself answering the questions, while a deep rumble started to drown all noise, and her vision started to blur.
Panicked, she took a deep breath and held it in. She knew she was prone to fainting, and she was used to try and prevent it. She asked the woman on the phone to hold for a second. After a moment, her sight and hearing cleared at last, if not the panicked beating of her heart. In a barely comprehensible gasp, she asked for the address of the hospital. The woman was still trying to say something when Anna cut her off. She jumped out of bed, dressed up in a fumbling and raging hurry, grabbed her car keys and rushed to the door.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anna calmly unlocked the door of her flat. It was two in the morning and she was feeling elated. The evening had gone so fast, the emotions had ran so high, she still could feel the rush of adrenaline and the momentous relief running through her body.
Svetlana was sleeping now in her hospital room. It had been nothing serious after all. The Hungarian girl had even greeted her tearful visitor with one of her stupid jokes. And in that second, Anna had gone from hell to heaven. A broken leg, nothing major. They still wanted to keep her for the night to make sure, though. The staff had been all so polite, efficient and friendly. Anna was smiling to herself, as she entered the kitchen, dropping her coat casually on the back of a chair. It was hard to imagine now the horror that had invaded her life three hours ago. It was all gone, vanished, blown away like a bubble in a micro-second by Svetlana’s smile. Anna switched on the kettle. A nice hot tea was all she needed. She went looking for her cup in the bedroom.

It was the weirdest thing, and for a second Anna did not know for sure if she was seeing it:
In the middle of her bed, the toy was standing on a piece of paper, torn from her near-by agenda it seemed. It was waving its tiny arms, looking at her. One of his feet was resting on an opened tube of lipstick. On the paper itself, four letters were clearly marked out : “HELP”.

Tbc??