Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Every day, the same routine. Wake up, force breakfast into your mouth, shower, brush your teeth, miss the bus, catch the next one, enter data for eight hours, miss the bus again, catch the next one, go home, force yourself to eat something bland and microwavable, drink, pass out, repeat. You feel your life passing by in a haze, but don’t know how to stop it.

Work feels like it takes forever, while your down time just slips away. Before you know it, you are up way too late, gaming or watching something. And the window for a good night sleep has been shut. Quarantine had been nice. Not having to go into the office and spend most of your time pretending to do work.

            But now, you’ve been forced back into the office. The only highlight, is this cute, twink guy  started riding your bus route. Skinny, pale, not too short or too tall. He has strong cheekbones and wavy, dark hair. You see him every day, wearing a name tag that says, “Will,” but normally don’t know what to say to him.

But today, as you got on the bus, you notice his name tag is attached to a Star Trek shirt. This is something you can work with. So, you sit down next to him.

“Do you watch the Orville?” You ask.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Will says.

“How do you, um, uh, how do you like the new season?”

“It’s really great! definitely worth the wait!”

You beam at him. Fortune favors you and he beams back. After a bit of chit chat, the bus CACHUNKs to a stop.

“This is me,” Will says, getting up.

You consider going with him. You can always double back to the bus and be a little late for work. But you decide that’d be too much. Don’t want to come on to strong.

“See you around,” you say, trying to play it cool.

Will gives a wave and you sink into your seat, greeted by a feeling of contentment. You see him again, on your way home. And then again, the next morning. You find a week as passed, and you’ve spent it chatting with Will. Getting to look into his kind, brown eyes. Feeling the type of connection, your life has been missing. The desire to have booze keep you company at night, gets a little less strong.

After the second week of this, Will says, “give me your number, so I can text you,” before getting off at his stop. You spend that day at work, texting with him. His optimistic take on everything is great.

“I know, their stuff hasn’t been as strong lately. But their track record is pretty good, I’m sure the next phase will be better,” he texts, as you eschew work, to talk with him about Marvel.

On your way to the bus stop, you think you see a pair of familiar, green eyes. You feel like you’re being watched. But you shrug it off. This is the third time in two weeks, you’ve had this feeling. It’s probably just a manifestation of the anxiety and nerves you feel about Will. When you get back on the bus, the two of you pick up right where you left off, in your texts. You talk for a while.

Finally, you say, “do you want to get dinner, tonight?”

You worry this sounds too eager, so you add, “or whenever? Or not?”

Will chuckles, “yeah, tonight sounds great.”

You light up, “great. I know this awesome Thai place we can go to!”

“Looking forward to it!”

You take the time to get ready and really make yourself look good. You grab your most flattering outfit. The thought of how baggy it would be on Will makes you laugh. He’s so cute! You even spring for a Lyft, so you don’t have that bus smell. Something you later realize was probably not necessary, given where you met Will. Finally, you arrive at Third Street Thai.

You and Will take a table in the back. The conversation is electric and you feel truly present. Something you normally have difficulty doing. That is, until you see a curvy woman, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her denim skirt and red Dunder-Mifflin shirt, complement her moderately tanned skin. She is not like Will, with his rail-thin physique. She allows her body to have some heft, fitting the beauty standards more akin to a bygone era. Her eyes are a stunning green color. She makes eye contact with you, then dashes off with her take out.

“I think I just saw my ex,” you blurt out.

“The girl that just ran off?”

“Yeah. She and I, I mean,” you pause, worried you’re about to overshare, “we dated our last semester in college. She ended up turning down a pretty sweet gig somewhere else, to come live here with me.”

“But you ended up breaking up?” Will asks.

“Yeah,” you admit.

“Well, that does suck, but these things happen. It’s part of life. I’m sure she’s over it.”

You ruminate on this, “I guess. It’s been like three years, anyway. But, I still feel pretty bad about it.”

There is a pause and some lingering awkwardness. But, it soon passes and you and Will are back to your lively conversation. Standing outside the restaurant after dinner, you lean in for a kiss. He kisses you back, and you feel his affection. As well as a sense of connection and closeness. You travel down a nearby walking and biking path. There’s just the right number of lampposts, to illuminate you and your charming, twink companion.

Holding Will’s hand, you feel safe. And can tell he feels the same way, holding yours. There’s a rustling in the bushes. You and Will turn around to see your ex, standing behind you. At first you simply feel startled. This is followed by a strong sense of unease. There is a flash of green and when it dissipates, everything around you is much larger. And you realize you and Will are naked!

Will’s naked body, is the boney, pale beauty you always imagined it to be. It would be a wonderful sight to see, if you were not disoriented and terrified. Megan’s face always had a regal, elf-like quality to it. As though she was a magical, forest being. One who got enough sun, for a light tan. Her elfy, cute face, looks down at the two of you, from the mountain that is her body. She squats and her enormous, voluptuous body jiggles.

Starring directly at you, at you she says, “hey, dip shit.”

You and Will embrace each other and tremble at the booming, thunder-like echo of her voice.

Shifting her focus to Will she says with a smile, “well, hello my new tiny friend, I’m Megan. What’s your name?”

“It’s Will!” he shouts.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Megan says, “oh wait, did you say your name wasn’t important? That neither of your names are important? Because you’re mine now, so it doesn’t matter anymore? That must be what you said, since nothing else would be true.”  

She grabs the two of you, in what could easily be mistaken for tree trunks. Light glistens off her nails. Half are painted crimson and the other are painted black, in solid colors on, alternating fingers. The heat of her body radiates against you. The pressure of her grip, makes you think you’re going to burst in a gooey mess. You can see every bit of peach fuzz. And the smells of her perfume, skin and sweat, all assault you.

She brings you up to her lips, coated in with lipstick, matching her crimson nails. It’s smeared on the skin around her mouth and caught by her peach fuzz. She opens her lips, hitting the two of you with a blast of heat and humidity. Megan’s breath reeks of pad Thai and garlic. You can see how slimy her tongue is. And the chords of saliva, draped from her pallet to behind her bottom row of teeth.

“You know, I’d say about half the time when I shrink someone, I just,” Megan swallows air, and you watch her trace a bulge in her throat, with her finger, “but I think this is the other half. The half of times when I have some fun first.”

Her sinister tone in no way suggests what she has planned, will be the least bit, “fun.” The sound of her voice is even more intense up close. Your ears throb. You and Will both scream incoherently. The situation is too jarring for either of  you to form words. Her talking produces a rancid, hurricane blasts, of humid air.  Your voice is already getting hoarse from all the screaming and gaging. You scream even louder, which you didn’t even know as possible.

There is a rush of air, as the two of you are brought up to her abdomen. She dangles you over her open waistband. Writhing and crying, you plead with her to let you go. Nothing she’s said or done would suggest, she cares. And at your size, there’s no way she could hear you, all the way down there. The “GGrrhHRGghHHh” from her stomach, more than negates any noise you make. This sound paralyses you in fear.

She laughs at your reaction, “I suggest you get back to moving around, where you’re going.”

You continue staring transfixed at her pudgy abdomen, as she releases her grip and you fall into her purple panties. Your whole body is pressed up against her sweaty, leaky, labia lips. You reach for Will, as he reaches for you. The two of you huddle together, your vision still zeroed-in on her belly. Megan SNAPS her waistband closed.

The panties holding you in place, keep all light from getting in. Fear causes you to breath deep, really inhaling the salty, fishy smell, of her enormous vagina. Her thick thighs rub up against each other. The upper thighs in your plain of vison are pale, untouched and untanned by the sun. Their movement push you harder into her cunt. Spitting out a curly, blonde pube, you think back to the circumstances that brought you here. You stare at Will.

“I’m sorry, I uh…” you start.

“Unless you knew she could do this, it’s not your fault,” Will says.

“I had no idea,” you say, in total honesty.

Will puts his hand on your face. Even though it’s covered in Megan’s fluids and sweat, the gesture is still comforting. The two of you pass out from shock, huddled together. The boom of Megan’s voice wakes you up.

“’Eh bitch, you home?”

There is a long silence, followed by, “okay, good.”

There’s another pause, the sound of something hitting the floor, then Megan’s enormous fingers come down and snatch the two of you up. She is wearing a tight, worn out, chocolate brown bra. You and Will are shoved into her soft, warm cleavage. The pale, underside of her boobs, contrasts with the light tan, that the rest of her skin has. Under other circumstances, this could’ve been very enjoyable. But as it is, it was more like being assaulted be a jiggly hill.

“I want to be able to give you the tour.”

She bends down to pick up her shirt. Will almost falls out of her sweaty cleavage. You grab his arm and use all your strength to pull him back in. Her, soft, warm, breasts, knock against you and Will, with every step. The overbearing hills of her boobs, collide with you and Will, squeezing and compressed you together. The effect is even more intense, as she goes up the stairs. Megan unlocks the door to her bedroom and her booming footsteps, bring her over to a bookcase, covered by a sheet.

She stands in front of it and shimmies out of her denim skirt. Waves of flesh hit you and dance around you, as the soft mountain of her body jiggles from this movement. When Megan reaches down to remove her panties, it’s Will’s turn, to save you from falling. The bookshelf is filled with jars. Inside each jar is between 1-5 other, shrunken people. She pinches you out of her cleavage and places the two of you on the top shelf of her bookcase. With a loud SNAP she removes her bra.

Megan reaches down and grabs one of the jars. You can see there are three, shrunken people, all shaking in fear. Megan opens wide and turns the jar upside, over her mouth. One of them hangs on the rim of the jar. The other two tiny people land, on her tongue with a shallow, SQUELCH sound. She closes her lips and with a GLUCK you see mass go down her throat. Megan traces it with her finger.

The other tiny hangs off the jar, screaming in terror. Megan’s tongue slithers out of her mouth and easily captures its prize. You tremble in shock and terror, as you watch another bulge go down her throat. She places the jar at the edge of the bookcase. Her enormous hand swoops down and slides the two of you into it. In an instant, you go from feeling the warmth of her hand, to the coldness of the glass jar.
            She SLAMS the jar down on the bookcase.

“Take a good look around that jar. Did you look around? Good. The tour begins and ends there. That’s where you live, now.”

You and Will hold each other close and the two of you pass out…

Will is still asleep when you wake up, his head burrowed in your chest. Megan has extra strong, blackout curtains. Ones that you bought for her, back in the day. The room is illuminated by the lights she left on. At first you can’t tell if this is her old home, the one she shared with you, or somewhere new. You look around the room for clues.

It doesn’t feel like a bedroom. The hills and mountain ranges, made up of everyday objects, makes this room feel like something completely foreign to you. Her bed looks like a wide, massive field. With her unmade bedsheets, acting as hillsides. The water bottle she keeps on her nightstand, is the size of a mid-rise apartment building. One you desperately don’t want to end up. The thought of cold water, rushing you into Megan’s hot, humid mouth, makes you shudder.

Between the carpet, the placement of the windows, and the paint on the wall, you surmise that this location is new to you. Maybe if this was her old place, the house you had rented together, you could have a chance of navigating your way out. At your size, the time that journey would take would be immense. And in this new place, you’d have to figure out your way around. Something that would be easy as a regular sized person.

At your tiny size, it could add days, weeks, or even longer, if you have to figure out which way is out. All of this time would be added, to the long voyage necessary to escape, once you did know the way out. And this is all assumes you could somehow escape the glass jar you’re in. You’d need as much time as possible, to prevent Megan from finding and catching you again. Or for her roommate to catch you. For all you know, she’s in on all this. And if she’s not, she’d probably end up eating or squishing you, on accident.

You feel Will groggily get up.

Looking around he says, “fuck, this wasn’t a nightmare?”

You look back at him and don’t know what to say. He said there’s no reason to be sorry, but you still feel guilty. You wish you could tell him it was a nightmare. That the place you were was some kind of amusement park or something. One designed to look like your ex-girlfriend’s, messy room.

“Where is she?” Will asks.

 “I don’t know.”

“The lights are on, she’ll probably be back soon,” Will posits.

“Nah, Megan always forgets to turn the lights off, when she leaves a room. She could be in the bathroom, she could be at work or on a long weekend. There’s no way of knowing how soon she’ll be back,” you explain.

The two of you spend the next several hours talking. Each of you is trying to distract the other, more than anything else. Your conversation is mostly spent discussing who would win, in battles between different sci-fi, fantasy, comic book and cartoon characters. Neither one of you really wants to talk about your predicament.

Every now and again one of you says something like, “we could try and use what little weight we have, to tip the jar over.”

To which the other says, “but if it breaks, the glass shards could kill us at this size.”

At one-point Will asks, “do you think she could just…let us go?”

After a long silence from you, he says, “yeah, that’s probably off the table.”

Eventually, you hear the booming steps and feel the earthquake of Megan’s return. You hear her the CLICK of her unlocking the bedroom door. Megan is in white, grease-stained shorts and her red and white Five Guys work t-shirt. She sets her purse down on her desk, adding to the BOOMs. She takes her desk chair and moves the dirty clothes on it, to the floor. Megan disrobes, throwing more clothes onto the pile.

“Ugh, what a day.”

She takes three jars out of her collection, and places them next to you. The first one, has two people in it, a man and a woman. They look like they could be another couple. Or perhaps they could just be two strangers forced into familiarity. Either way, Megan casually and quickly pops them in her mouth and swallows them, like nothing. She grabs the two other jars and BOOMS back to her desk.

Holding one of them up to her face she says, “Marcy at work is a vegan and super annoying about it. It’s like, ‘bitch, then why do you work here?’ I think I’ll add you to her veggie sandwich, tomorrow,” a smug grin forms on a Megan’s face and she says, “don’t worry, she won’t know. But I will.”

She kisses the jar, then puts it in her purse. Opening the other one, she pinches up the three tinies inside. Two men with dad-bods, and one skinny woman. With one hand, Megan spreads her thick, ass cheeks. You watch in horror, gripping Will’s hand tight, as the two of them are shoved in Megan’s ass. The other tries to escape, by climbing up her arm.

“Oh, you don’t want to be in my ass? I understand.”

Megan pinches the tiny woman on her arm and drops her on the desk chair. BAM! Megan sits on the chair and a big grin forms on her face.

“There. Now you can be on my ass. Hahahaha.”

Her laughter is cruel and booming. It physically hurts to hear and the sight is emotionally devastating. All she did was sit down. But, the tremendous power of her body, was enough to destroy this being. Not to mention the squeezing, slimy agony the inside of her ass must be subjecting the other tinies to. Megan grabs her dildo out of a drawer in her nightstand, and places it next to her bed. She flounces over to your jar.

Megan turns the jar upside down and pours you and Will into her warm, sweaty hand. After a few bouncy steps, she plops down on her bed. The jiggling of her mountainous body is hypnotic. You watch her enormous hand grab the dildo. Following its journey with your eyes, you see it disappear between her legs.

“Now I’d hate to break you up,” Megan thunders, in a cooing tone, “but there’s two of you and two of these,” she gestures to her nipples.

You and Will are each dropped on a separate nipple. You are on the left and he is on the right. Starring out across the valley of Megan’s cleavage, you see her right nipple, where Will is stranded, is just as hard as her left one.

“The two of you are the perfect size for this. My nipples are your task tonight. You can hump them, squeeze them, mmhhMmmhMm fuck,” you hear the wet slapping of her dildo getting faster, “you can run in circles around my areolas, for all I care. But you will service them!”

You notice there is no, “or else” at the end of her diatribe, none is needed. Atop her nipple, you are surrounded by pinkness and power. You rub your naked body, against her ever-hardening nipples. The skin is soft and warm. Very different from the cold, piercing feeling of dread you have. Not just for yourself, but for Will. You are now well-versed, in how Megan treats tiny people, such as yourselves.

And you could not resist her. Even if you tried, the power contained in her goddess, mountain of a body, is so far beyond your own. If she wanted to eat you or squish you between the glorious mountains you find yourself on, that’s what would happen.

You feel the vibrations of her stomach as a “GrrhHgkkHhgHhkH,” emanating upward from it. Tears drip down your face. The terror produced by this sound, a simple rumbling in her stomach, has caused you to weep. Perhaps you’ve been weeping this whole time, and only just now noticed it. That’s something you’d easily believe. Your tiny tears, dribble down onto her hard, warm nipple. Nothing pink has ever seemed this scary.

Will has taken her, “run laps around my areola,” suggestion to heart. The two of you make eye contact. There is a spark of support, sadness and desperation, all conveyed in a simple look you exchange. The moment ends when the vigor of her masturbation, jostles Megan’s mountainous tit. This causes Will to face plant into her nipple. You stop your gyrating and look over to him in concern.

“Hey! No breaks. Back to work!”

Even without the thunderous booming and echoing quality of Megan’s voice, this order would still be commanding and fierce. You and Will both do as you’re told. Megan’s heart rate, continues to increase. It pounds upward, sending vibrations to the tits and nipples you’ve been tasked with pleasing.

“MnnHnnn,” Megan moans.

  It’s a sound you once enjoyed. Even took some pride in the times, when you elicited it from her. As her partner, her moans were something that filled you with arousal and joy.

“Ahhh Ah aaaHHhhh!”

Now it is a terrifying, ear and soul-shattering sound.

“OooHhoo fuuuckkk!”

 It’s like the roar of an erupting volcano, but worse. A volcano is destructive, but it holds no malice for you. The hell it creates is not meant to please itself. To be a shrunken person in Megan’s possession, is to be a prisoner in a universe, run by a cruel goddess.

“Fu..Fuuu…AhhaaAAh..fuck!” Megan moans louder than ever, as she climaxes.

When she removes her dildo, she lets it glide over her boobs, her vaginal fluid dripping off in thick glops. You and Will each get your share, before she places it back on her nightstand. The warm, viscous fluid gets in your nose. The fishy, sweaty smell of Megan’s pussy, is overwhelming. You dry heave for a moment, as you hear her heart rate slow down. She catches her breath and you do the same. Her sweat slides down to you, adding another violating layer of fluid, over your skin.

 After a short while, her fingers, thick as redwoods, loom down and snatch you up. The pressure dissipates for a moment as she pinches up Will. The pressure returns, as you and Will are squeezed together in her fingers. PLINK. PLINK. You’re dropped back in the jar, one at a time. Both of you embrace each other. The two of you each act as a shoulder for the other one to cry on. You wonder if this really is your life now?

Megan turns out the light and curls up in bed. You and Will are both exhausted, from this ordeal. Both of you sleep very deeply, for a very long time. You spend the next day pacing around the jar. A part of you wants Megan to return, so you can be done with today’s torture. But whenever you think of her, all the memories of her grumbling stomach, and the people she’s banished to it, return.

As it turns out, Megan’s predilections are not your problem the next night. Or the night after. But both nights, you have to suffer through the horrors of her approaching the bookcase. The fear, as she selects the jars, which each of her victims. And whether they are swallowed, inserted or tortured in some other way, you know it will be your turn again. The sight of their misfortune is terrifying and emotionally devastating. And the waiting is a torture of its own...

Megan starts one morning shuffling the jars around. She takes two and puts them in her purse. The rest are reshuffled and reorganized. Megan’s hand casts its usual, terrifying shadow, as she places a jar next to you. Looking over, you see a trim, redheaded woman. It takes you a moment, but you realize you recognize her.

“Katie?”

Your voice echoes out of the top of the jar. She turns around. The sight of a familiar face, takes her a moment to process. You see the look of someone trying to figure out, if what they’re seeing is real.

“Hey,” Katie says, “you’re uh, my neighbor. The one from my building, who helped me find my dog.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Same thing as you, I assume. Whatever that monster wants,” Katie says, with a shudder and a grimace.

“Why did she shrink you?” Will asks.

“Her exact words were, ‘business has been booming and I need to do a resupply,’ which didn’t make sense at the time. But when I saw the rate that she consumes us, I uh…well I get it now,” Katie says, with a defeated tone.

“Seems like she’s bringing in new people all the time.”

You, Will and Katie converse for a while. Eventually, your voices become hoarse after shouting from one jar to another, for so long. The last time you were taken by Megan, you got a glimpse at the bookcase. Your and Will’s jar was on the top shelf. It sat there alone, until Katie jar had been added. For a while, you had assumed Megan thought of you as her prize catch. That your position atop the bookshelf, meant there was something special about you and Will. And in the long run, this could lead to her freeing you.

Katie's story made the situation clear. Being on “the top shelf” probably had little to no significance. Finally, the night comes where it is once again your and Will’s turn to join to foray. It starts as many of your nights in captivity had. With Megan eating her employee-discounted fast food. She finishes her soda, and lets out a colossal burp. Megan tosses her wrappers and clothes onto the desk.

 Her naked body produces earthquakes as she approaches the bookshelf. Megan’s face, greasy from her face food dinner, grins. She empties your jar on to the cool, laminated wood with a THUD. She drops Katie next to you. Megan’s titanic left hand, sweeps the three of you into her right one.

Her thunderous footsteps bring the three of you and herself, to her bed. Megan’s hand smells like French fries, but ones that have been dipped in a pool of sweat. In quick, horrifying succession, she plucks Will and Katie up with her right hand.

“Katie! Will!!!” you scream.

You crawl to the edge of Megan’s warm, greasy hand. She inserts the two, screaming tinies, into her anus. Her fingers pull away from the hole, devoid of the shrunken man and woman deposited in her rectum. Megan’s ass cheeks, enormous in scale, jiggle from the movement of her imprisoning them.

“ooOoOh fuck, they’re good at this,” Megan says.

With a BOOM she lays down in her bed. You stare at the patterns and details in her hand, only visible to someone your size. It moves across her body and brings you in front of her pussy. The details of her wrinkly labia, are more intricate, than her hand. A fishy smell, emanating from her vagina, overwhelms the French fry smell. Curly, blonde hairs, wet with her cum, poke your face and tickle your body.

Her vagina swallows your entire being. Megan’s warmth and wetness surround you. The more you scream, the more of her thick fluids are forced into your mouth. Bubbles form around you, from the panicked exhales and shouts of terror you expel. Megan’s finger’s, which look like they were each made from their own tree, stripped of its bark and branches, enter and exit her violently. It is clear, that she does not care if she crushes you out, amidst her fervor.

Her fingers may not be necessary to do that. The constriction from her warm, slimy pussy as it envelops you, feels like more than enough to make you explode.

“mnHhmmm,” Megan moans.

The sound is muffled by your fleshy prison. And your ears are clogged with her fluids. No sensation as ever been this all-encompassing.

“FuuUuUUckk,” she moans, as you squirm away from the crushing pressure of her finger.

The more you writhe, the wetter she gets. And the wetter she gets, the harder she fingers herself. And the harder she fingers herself, the scarier it is to be trapped in her constrictive pussy. So, you writhe even harder. It is a terrible feedback loop, but you can’t escape it. Your movements are reflexive. An involuntary response, to an intense sense of danger. It seems that you’re sweating quite a bit. Something that is likely to be a response not just to the anxiety of the situation, but the immense heat.

Megan’s heartrate continues to increase. It is an unnerving, percussive sound. One that seems to be all around you. Her finger pins you and she accidentally pulls you out of her vagina. The thick, gamey fluids coating your body, get caught on her wild, unkempt bush. You have a moment to breathe fresh air. Her blonde, curly hairs poke you in the face. And drip sweat and her cum onto your body.

 It occurs to you, that you are physically close to Will and Katie. Megan’s wrinkled anus is in full view. Would it be possible to mount a rescue? Before you can put any more thought into this, you see Megan’s crimson and black nails, glistening with her fluids. It takes no effort for her to shove you back inside her pussy. She fingers herself with a renewed and increased level of vigor.

“MnNmnNnn!”

You hear her moan, echo down to you as writhe and wriggle your way out of the destructive path of her fingers. Every second, she reaches a new height of wetness. Her heart rate increase, more and more. The constrictive feeling of her flesh, squeezing you, reaches a point where you are certain your body will burst into a splat of blood.

“Ff….aahhhHHHa….fuck!”

You feel her cum, as your soaked body is doused with the strongest layer of her fluids yet. Several moments pass, before her titanic fingers retrieve you. As she brings you back to the jar, you find yourself breathing very heavily. Not just as you recover from the intensity of what she did to you, but to breathe in as much fresh air as possible. PLINK! Your body, still slick and glistening from her cum, lands in the jar.

You watch from the jar, waiting for Megan to collect Will and Katie. After retrieving them out of her ass, Megan brings her sweaty hand up to her mouth. You scream, residual flecks of Megan’s “secret sauce” flying out of your mouth. She tilts her hand and Katie falls into the humid, slimy cavern of Megan’s mouth. Will’s torso falls on her plump, lower lip. He lets go of the lip and free falls onto Megan’s chest. He slides down her chest, past her tits and eventually landing in her belly rolls. Megan closes her mouth and swallows Katie.

You see her eyes scan her body, until they land on Will. She pinches him up in her fingers and examines him. Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “eh,” and places him in the jar with you. The two of you embrace and collapse onto the glass floor together.

Several more days pass. Each one ending in a night of torture from Megan. You’re not sure how long you and Will have been her captives. Is anyone looking for you? Surely, someone is looking for Will, he’s too sweet to be missed. You realize even if they are, they would never find you here. No one would think to look for you in a small jar, in your ex-girlfriend’s room.

And what about the others? You can’t tell how many jars she has, but it seems endless. Each one getting used and refilled, again and again. In fact, somewhere between a half-a-dozen to a dozen others have been shrunk since you and Will arrived. Is no one looking for them? Perhaps whoever taught Megan her shrinking magic, taught her how to cover her tracks?

You realize the biggest thing helping her cover her tracks, is that her victims are so small. Some of the tinies, end up as little splats, under her round ass or plump tits. Those can literally be washed away. And the vast majority of tinies you’ve seen, are eaten. They’re bodies digested and made unrecoverable. The enormous mountain of Megan’s body, yet again looms over the bookcase. She has already disrobed, to just a pair of purple panties and nothing else. You recognize the look in Megan’s eyes, as she decides who she wants tonight’s victim’s to be. And what she wants to do with them.

Your heart races, as the light shines off her black and crimson nails. Her feminine body jiggles, as she squats, ready to pick a jar. For a moment, you think several bombs have gone off. Then you realize, it’s just the sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door. Megan tosses on a white t-shirt and some plaid pajama bottoms. She throws a blanket over the bookcase. Some spare, unwashed blanket, is enough to obscure at least a neighborhood or two’s worth of tiny prisoners.

Her earthquake-like footsteps, bring her to the door of her room. You hear the creek of her opening it as little as possible.

“Yeah?” she asks, annoyed.

“What’s the password for our Hulu account?” asks a booming, feminine voice.

“You mean, my Hulu account?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” the unfamiliar voice says.

Megan sighs, frustrated. The rest of the conversation is obscured, by everyone in the bookcase, screaming. All of you are trying your hardest, to get the attention of this person, who maybe, possibly could help you. Things couldn’t get any worse. Why not see if this giantess can help you? But it’s pointless. The successive earthquakes of the door shutting and Megan’s footsteps, herald her return.

She tosses the blanket off the bookcase. Megan dances out of her panties, with a very annoyed look on her face.

“I try my best to keep Heather, my annoying as fuck roommate, from interrupting my fun. Like, it’s not enough that she’s always using the washer and dryer on my days?  Or that she hogs the toothpaste? Nope, Heather’s also got to bug me when I’m, well,” Megan’s expression goes from annoyed, to a big grin, “with my little bugs.”

Squatting again, Megan grabs one of the jars. You cannot look away, as she plucks a screaming, tiny person from her collection and drops them in her waiting mouth. What was once a person, with dreams and desires, is now bulge, traveling down her throat. One she traces with her finger, down to her chest, then abdomen. She rubs her belly.

Will grabs you, and you both turn away from this sight. The two of you cry into each other’s chests. It’s a long cry, one that’s been a long time coming. There is a catharsis and emotional intensity, to it. Your mind is able to let go of the jar, Megan’s room, everything weighing down on you. The moment is now about you and Will. And the bond you share.

After a while, you wipe away each other’s tears. He strokes your chest and you feel a tingle in your soul. And between your legs. You slide your index finger down his body and across his member. The two of you quiver in excitement. You’ve been forced to subside on little “kisses goodnight,” during your time in the jar. But this is something else, something deeply passionate.

The two of you have been naked the whole time in the jar. Now you feel truly exposed. You hate the feeling of vulnerability, forced on you by Megan. By her power and by her gigantic stature. What you feel with Will, is a vulnerability you embrace. You wrap yourselves in each other and the feelings you share. His pale, skinny, naked body, had become ordinary during your captivity. It is once again exciting.

When he enters you from behind, it’s ecstasy! Your hands interlock and the two of you stroke your very excited front. There is a passion and intimacy in this moment, that has been absent for your life for far too long. This was true, even before you were shrunk. Your bodies may be small, but the feelings and fervor you have for each other is huge. It is a special moment you have wanted to share with him for so long. And the desire you both had was strong enough, that not even the incredible situation you’re in, could keep you from doing this with each other.

Your eyes are closed and you let yourself leave the mindset of captivity and horror. You breathe slowly. And allow the experience you are sharing with Will, to become the exclusive focal point of your thoughts and awareness. It is warm and validating. You feel loved and desired, another thing that has been sorely missing from your life.

But when you open your eyes, you see Megan’s enormous iris. It’s like a black hole, with a green halo around it. She is starring at the two of you intently. You don’t want to stop, but your fear overwhelms you. Will feels the shift in energy and stops. He looks over and recoils at the sight of Megan’s eye. The two of you stare at her, terrified of what this level of attention will bring.

“No, don’t stop,” Megan booms.

Two sensations that you wish had not become familiar, happen in succession. First, the squeezing, bursting sensation of Megan’s tree trunk fingers, plucking you and Will. The next comes after several booming steps, that jiggle Megan’s enormous, naked body. She places you on her wet, fishy-smelling pussy. Her clit is already enlarged, and the itchy, blonde bush around you is glistening. She must have been fingering herself, before you caught her staring.

A bead of her sweat, mixed with Megan’s cum, collides with your bodies. You and Will hold each other, the excitement in your nether-regions still present.

“Go ahead, get back to it,” Megan’s booming voice commands.

You and Will exchange looks. Gazing deep in to his eyes, you feel a level of connection you’ve never felt with him before. Or with anyone else.

Still starring in your eyes, Will says, “we will,” he leans in closer to you, and whispers, “but not for you.”

It would’ve been impossible for Megan to hear the first part of Will’s statement. At this size, your voices are far beyond the range of what a giantess can hear. But still, when Will whispers in your ear, it sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You re-mount him, and his presence inside you, is more filling and vigorous than before. Pussy juice flicks off Megan’s enormous fingers, as they plunge inside hers at an ever-increasing speed and intensity. Her power, is incomprehensibly more than your and Will’s.

Even the passive reaction of her body responding to heat and exertion with sweat, collides with you. And while that and her cum drench the two of you, it does not cool your passions. You envelope Will with your warmth, as he fills you with his. Despite the sweat the three of you produce, his skin is still soft and inviting. Turning your head, you look into Will’s eyes. The pheromones coming from Megan’s pussy, are strong enough to fill you with lust at a normal size.

At your tiny size, these should have overwhelmed you. But, each time she has put you in or on her vagina, your fear as fought these chemicals. This is a testament to the dominating and terrifying power, she emanates at all times. Your fear either overpowers the lust, or you are filled with a disturbing mixture of the two. This is the first time, in this damp, fishy region, that you have felt an overwhelming lust. But it is channeled, into the physical and emotional connection you are sharing with Will.

“OooHhoooHh….OooHhh…AhhaHHaaa!” Megan moans.

The vibrations of your sex with Will, radiant onto Megan’s clit. Everything is oily, wet, and humid. You realize Megan as swapped her fingers for her dildo. She is ramming it in and out of herself with true vigor. Her moans echo, like the loudest thunderstorm you’ve ever heard.  You catch yourself thinking that you’ve “allowed” Megan to join this beautiful moment.

“GhhrrrNNNkkhHggh!”

Her stomach rumbles and echoes down to you. The reality sets back in, that she is allowing you to have this moment, outside of her churning gut. You hope this is it. The peak of her desire to use you. That such an intimate and intense experience, will satisfy her use for you and Will. And persuade her not to consume you, as you’ve seen her do with others.

You lock eyes with Will, the two of you kiss. Making out, on top of him, on top of her, you, Will and Megan, all cum. You feel her cum, cover the outside of your body, as Will fills the inside. After the three of you reach your moment of peak ecstasy, you all lay back and catch your breath. Megan’s fluids have thoroughly coated both you and Will. Her fingers, glistening with them, pluck the two of you up. Your heart races, it is the moment of truth.

Are you about to be freed or swallowed? You and Will are already squeezed so close together, but you get in even closer with him. Whether you are about to land with a SQUELCH in Megan’s humid, slimy mouth or be returned to regular size, you want him close. Neither happens. Instead you are placed back in the jar. You and Will breathe a sigh of relieve. Still naked, Megan thunders half-way back to her bed, then pauses…

Turning around and picking up the jar, she says, “actually, we’re never gonna top that.”

The two of you are dumped back into her hand. Her fingers still have the fishy, musty smell of her cunt. Her fluids glisten off her black and crimson fingernails. She brings the two of you up to her plump lips, smeared with red lipstick. Light dances off the fast food grease and sweat on her skin. She takes each of you, and holds you in separate hands. You are pinched between her left thumb and index finger.

Will is pinched in the same way, but in the fingers on her opposite hand. You try to maintain eye-contact with him. Hopefully, this simple gesture can reassure him. His gaze has always had that effect on you.

“MhhmMmm,” Megan says in a pondering tone.

The humid breath she expels, reeks of cheeseburgers with onions, and greasy French fries. You dry heave and your whole-body recoils. Megan brings the two of you up to her eyes.

Shaking your body and looking at you, she says, “shit head,” then, shaking Will’s body and looking at him, she says, “and Mr. Twink. Got it.”

You can see all the pores and details of Megan’s skin. Intricate patterns, that would be invisible to you at regular size. Her green eyes seem monstrous and cruel. There was a time when they held a warm, love for you. They zero-in on you, sending shivers down your spine.

“I was thinking you would make great toppings on my dessert. But, I don’t know? What if you fuck on my dessert? Doesn’t seem very hygienic,” Megan says, in a faux-concerned tone,  “but tinies make such great toppings…oh, I know,” she says in a way that indicates she already had this figured out, “I’ll eat one of you now and the other can join me for dessert.”

You and Will both scream, louder than then either of you thought was possible. Both of her hands lower, but only Will is closer to her mouth. You are kept a few inches away, which at your size, is a few body lengths away. Will reaches out to you, and you respond in kind. The incredible pressure of Megan’s fingers, restricts your movements. And even if you were free to move, you’re too far away to reach him.

You sob as you hear the SQUELCH of Will landing on Megan’s slimy tongue. He slips and slides, trying to escape.

“Oh, you’re a real squirmier,” Megan’s cruel, booming voice says.

Will is knocked around by the movements of Megan’s tongue as she talks. Each time you think he’ll make it to her lips, he faceplants in her saliva instead. His face disappears, as she closes her lips. GLUCK! You watch a bulge in Megan’s throat, you know to be the person you love, descend deeper into her massive body.

“Ahhhhh,” Megan says, opening her mouth and blasting you with the horrific air it produces.  

You are placed on top of the bookshelf and immediately collapse. Rocking back and forth, you sob as Megan gets dressed. She puts on the purple panties she tossed off and her plaid pajama bottoms. Megan sniffs a stained, sky blue, low-cut t-shirt. She shrugs and puts on what turns out to be a very tight-fitting shirt.

“This is nice,” she muses, almost as though she is alone, talking to herself, “now I have a few minutes to let dinner and all my other food digest, before I dig into dessert.”

She pulls a bottle of white wine out of her mini-fridge and takes a swig directly from the bottle. Megan thunders over to the bookcase, still holding her wine. She takes another swig and sets the bottle down next to you. The enormous THUD takes you out of your revelry. You’re back in the moment, reeling from what has happened to Will. And the disgust you feel, regarding the layers of Megan’s cunt fluids and sweat, that have dried around your skin and hair.

“Fucking Heather hordes all the red wine, so I keep the best white wine for myself,” she says, the boozy, wine vapors hitting you.

Megan presses her chest against the bookcase and grins. Her enormous forearm looms over you. Megan’s fingers land behind you and you feel an intense pain as she FLICKS you off the bookcase. You land in Megan’s cleavage, still in shock over the sight of her eating Will. She trots out of her room and towards the stairs. Megan’s heavy, warm breasts crash against you. The soft skin continually wipes away the tears, that are still streaming down your face.

Even if Megan could see the tears, coming from your miniscule body, nothing would change. She’d feel a sick pleasure, if anything at all.

“GRJhNkkHhkkgGhHg,” her stomach echoes up to you.

It’s as though the destructive pit of digestion, wanted to remind you that it was too late. Will has already been cast to his doom. Once again, the strange feeling of wanting Megan to, “get it over with,” and eat you, pops into your head. This time, it is built on the hope that you could find Will in the chaotic storm of slop in her gut. And the two of you would not die alone. It is a very jarring thought, to want to be eaten, so that you can comfort your love.

At the same time, your desire to escape, has never been higher. It seems that every minute you’ve been Megan’s captive, the yearning to escape, reaches a new zenith. One you think could never be topped, but repeatedly has been. When she ate Will, you watched your worst fear come to life. And now, you feel a certainty, that your own demise has never been closer. This horrible fate could reunite you with Will. Or you could find his digested corpse, in the acidic stew.

The emotional whiplash, of both wanting to be eaten, so you can find Will, and the desperation to escape your imminent demise, shatters your sanity. During this tizzy, you failed to notice the transition from Megan’s warm cleavage, to her cold, kitchen counter. There is an ear-splitting DING, and she pulls a plate out of the microwave. She places the lime green, ceramic plate next to you. The vibrations from this, knock you on your ass. A pleasant, chocolatey smell emanates from the plate. 

The familiar, but still eye-popping pressure of Megan’s fingers, squeezes your body. You  look down and see three brownies. One is perfectly centered, on top of the other two. Megan drops you and land on something moist and warm. The post-microwave heat of the brownies, burns your skin a little. Megan’s titanic hand looms overhead, casting a larger shadow. You prepare yourself to be scooped up with the brownie, and deposited in Megan’s horrific mouth. Instead, light glistens off black nail polish, as her pinky jams you inside the confection.

“Wouldn’t want you falling off on the journey up.”

You feel the brownie being lifted into the air. The wind is still knocked out of you, from the force of her finger. Though firmly in place inside the brownie, you can still see the world around you.

“Oh yeah, shit,” Megan says, “the wine I wanted to pair with these brownies, is still in my room.”

The brownie cushions some of the THUD of being dropped back onto the plate. You let out a sigh of, relief at the sight of Megan exiting the kitchen. You have a moment to collect yourself, still reeling from the shock of everything that’s just happened. Then you hear the familiar boom of a giantesses’ footsteps. Looking up, you don’t see Megan. You surmise that this is her roommate, Heather. There’s a round, ovular shape to Heather’s head, almost like a pigeon. Her eyes are wide and a piercing blue.

“Ugh, that lo mien was not enough, I need some dessert,” Heather’s explosively loud voice says, as she rubs her belly.

Her belly muffin-tops over her red gym shorts. A glance at her chest tells you, if she and Megan were not so territorial, the two could easily share bras. Heather’s lime green tank-top, accents her skin, which has a darker tan than Megan’s. In addition to skin that’s seen more sun, she has a much sunnier disposition than her roommate. The living mountain of her body, jiggles and shakes as she dances around the kitchen. She twirls her hair, which is dyed blue and green. It seems like Heather is looking for something.

All the while, you are screaming your lungs out. You try to climb out, but the gooey composition of the brownie makes this difficult. With each attempt to escape, you just ended up buried deeper inside the treat. Heather spots the plate with you and the brownies. She has thin, pink lips, but a big, wide mouth. One that forms a delighted smile, at the sight of this dessert. You think your heart is going to pop out of your chest, from the adrenaline.

            Her hand looms over you, in all its gigantic glory. Seeing this and the shadow it casts, fills you with dread. Your screaming is clearly accomplishing nothing, but you can not stop. You are too terrified and too desperate. The brownie raises into the air, with you still jammed in it. Light reflects off the zebra pattern, painted into Heather’s nails. The reflection gets in your eye and when you look away, you see Heather licking her lips in anticipation.

The brownie comes closer to Heather’s mouth and her thin lips open. This reveals a moist, slimy and humid cave. The idea that Heather, “hogs the toothpaste,” let alone knows toothpaste exists, becomes preposterous to you.

A horrible, “URrrYYruuaaPPpp!” belching sound, blasts out of Heather’s mouth.

You are coated with her disgusting, warm saliva. Heather laughs at her own noise and you think your eardrums are going to burst. Megan’s grumbling about Heather, “hording all the red wine,” is forced back into your mind. In addition to the fruity, boozy quality, her breath also has a garlic and soy tint. Mixed with the smell of food that’s been in the sink for too long. Her not quite white, not quite yellow teeth, bite down on the brownie.

Her bite captures a sizable chunk of the dessert, but you are spared. The sight of her massive, pink tongue, tossing the brownie bite, is as disgusting as it is horrifying. Wadded up bits of food, are caked into her gums. Chords of saliva, some of which are taller than you, run from her pallet, to behind her lower lip. They break at the slightest prodding from heather’s tongue. A chunk of food, is powerless against the mouth of a giantess.

You are unable to break free, as you and the next bite of brownie, plunge into the dark cave of Heather’s mouth. Her enormous teeth, crush and mash the dessert you were trapped in. You escape their crushing power, but still end up on Heather’s slimy tongue. You find yourself mimicking Will’s actions, in Megan’s mouth. Each attempt to reach Heather’s lips, immediately fails. And instead you face-plant into the soggy mucus and salvia, of her squishy tongue. Heat and humidity, along with the rank smell of her breath, hits you from every angle.

You feel her tongue moving you to the back of her throat, with the rest of her food. Trying to claw and stop your decent, fails. Instead you only collect reams of her tongue scum, under your fingernails. If you were going to be eaten, in a way you wish it could’ve been Megan. Then you and Will might have been reunited, in her gut.

But maybe this mouth, belongs to someone who can help. Clearly, Heather is not in the know about tinies. Perhaps, your intense writhing, squirming, and fighting will be enough, for her to sense something’s odd. Maybe, she’ll pluck you out and learn of the horrors her roommate commits, before it’s too late…

GLUCK!

It’s too late. You’re already in her fleshy, smooth throat. The constriction you feel is so intense, you’re shocked you haven’t burst into a splat of goo. This is the most uncomfortable and disgusting experience of your life. But then, the sphincter into her stomach opens. And it blows your mind how much worse things can and do get.

The smell is like a garbage disposal. In many ways, this place is a kind of garbage disposal. Only the smell is 100X worse. You immediately vomit into Heather’s ocean of the same substance. The heat and humidity are incredibly intense. Her rumbling gut, tosses and throws you around with her mush. There is a chaotic violence to the current and movements of your prison.

 You accidentally ingest some of the chewed mush that composes your life raft. You immediately spit out the chocolatey, vomity, chyme. There is a continuous, sloshing sound, caused by the movements of this disgusting ocean.

“HHrrnkkHuhhUhh!” Heather’s stomach lets out another deafening rumble.

There’s a fleshy, wet slapping sound. The source of this becomes apparent, when you are thrown against her slimy, stomach wall. Its folds squeeze you, very hard. You are coated in a thick, disgusting mucus. PLOP! Another chunk of brownie lands in the mush. SPLASH! More red wine rains down into this horrible ocean. You were already quite nauseated, from the heat, humidity and stench. But the vapors from her wine, add an extra layer of haziness to your experience.

One of the most disorienting things, is Heather’s heartbeat. It’s calm and peaceful. To you, she is an all-powerful, destructive goddess. But for her, it’s just another evening. PLOP! An evening to enjoy dessert. SPLASH! And some wine.

You sweat profusely, from the unbearable heat and humidity of Heather’s gut. The dried layer of Megan’s sweat and pussy fluid, that’s all over your body, begins to fall away. But new coatings have formed on your skin and hair. Endless layers of the mucus from Heather’s stomach folds, the horrific stew of chewed mush, and the cocktail of her wine and saliva, coat and re-coat your body. Every inch of skin, and the hair on EVERY part of your body, are covered in these substances.

“GrrnhUHhnkkUuhhGh!”

Only the loudest and most deafening grumbles of her stomach, catch your attention. The endless grumbles and roars of Heather’s stomach, are interrupted with her echoing voice saying, “so, what I had the last few brownies?”

There’s a pause, then you hear, “what do you mean you added something special?”

For a half-second, you are able to take some solace, that in the end, Megan was pissed, that she didn’t get what she wanted. But then, you feel an odd vibration, unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Followed by the reverberations of Heather screaming. The tone of Heather’s shrieks is familiar. You realize it is the distinct tone of someone in Megan’s clutches.

Your energy has started to fade, but your attention is roused, by the echoing shout of Heather yelling, “bitch, your mouth is disgusting! Let me out!”

This is followed by the echoes, of what sounds like Heather trying to scream, but being muffled by something constrictive. Finally, your suspensions are confirmed, when you feel the familiar sensation of falling, from the sphincter at the base of a giantesses’ throat, into the mush of her stomach. It is now certain, that woman who consumed you, is now herself, trapped in the gut of a goddess. Even the smallest movements Heather made, before she was shrunk, would disrupt and intensify the sloshing in her gut. Now, it is compounded, as she herself, is tossed in the chyme of Megan’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, little tiny. If I had known…” Heather interrupts herself, with a bout of dry heaving, as Megan’s gut tosses her every which way.

You find yourself feeling some forgiveness towards Heather. Her cries of distress, mimic your own. It is an odd kinship, that you feel with her. Megan is digesting both of you. Just like she  did to Will. Given how much time has passed since he was swallowed, and your own level of deterioration, you know he must already be gone.

The jostling of the gut is compounded a second time. By the movement of Megan returning to her room. As you fade inside Heather’s gut, you extended your sympathies to her. Knowing Megan, Heather is going to have endure the noise of Megan enthusiastically masturbating, alongside the pain of being digested. For a moment, you think back to your best times with Will, before all this insanity. The sound of Heather’s gut, rumbling and churning, as she herself is churned, is the last thing you hear, before you fade for good...