Jason coughed, his throat burning painfully, as he opened his eyes and blinked.  As he began shifting his limbs, he felt uncomfortable roughness brushing his back.  He rolled his head from side to side and twisted his wrists around, trying to get his bearings, and grasped at whatever he was laying on.  It wasn’t solid ground; it was a large, wooden chunk, like mulch, but flakier.  He brought it closer to his eyes and squinted as he slowly adjusted to his vision again.  If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed it was ground cover for a hamster cage.  Mentally, he chuckled at this idea, and suddenly felt a jarring headache as he pulled himself into a sitting position.  What had happened?

                He was still wearing his clothes from work: a white dress shirt, red tie, and blue coat.  This much he knew.  What else?

                The drinks.  He’d had a lot of them the night before.  Most of them spent thinking with increasing non-clarity about his wife and soon-to-be ex, Martha.   He remembered paying, and stepping groggily out toward his car.  After that, it was all a blank. 

Figured. 

At this point, Jason deduced that he had to have been passed out in a disgusting alley a block from the bar, no doubt with his wallet long-taken by street thugs as he slept, when he was startled to look straight ahead.  Metal bars, thick and rusted, crisscrossing along and running upward like an incredible wall, filling his field of vision.  He turned his head, and felt his blood run cold as he realized they encircled him, like a prison wall running up several stories to keep out the most violent criminals.  As he looked up, he realized there was even a ceiling.  Jason gulped.  This wasn’t a prison.

                This was a cage.

                He leapt to his feet, running forward and stopping at the edge as he threw his hands around the bars, shaking at them with a few token clangs.  Very solid: there was no way he was shaking them apart.  And the holes were far too narrow for him to squeeze through; all he could do was stare through them.  He pressed his face against the hole, about to process what was laid in the confusing outside world, when he heard a whimper.  It was soft, but it caused him to turn around, because he recognized it.  About ten feet back, also laying in the strange, soft wood shavings was another person.  He didn’t even need to squint much to recognize her instantly as Martha.

                He dashed over to her, grabbing ahold of her hands and pulling the dazed woman to her feet.  She ruffled her smooth brown hair, trying to get the tiniest bits of wood shaving out of them, then locked eyes with her husband.  They looked confusedly at one another, and then her eyes wandered, her jaw dropping at what lay before them.  Then she looked back at her husband, frowning.

                “Jason…” she gasped, and he quickly threw his hands up in self-defense at her inevitable accusation.  “JASON…”

                “I don’t KNOW, okay?” he quickly blurted, looking around frantically.  “I woke up, just the same as you in here, I don’t know WHAT…” he continued, raising his voice at irregular intervals.  Martha sniffed the air.

                “Your breath.”

                “What about it?” he asked irritably.

                She shook her head, then raised a disapproving eyebrow.  “You’re drunk.”

                “Yeah, got that right.  I’m so drunk as fuck I can’t even remember what…” mumbled Jason, stumbling slightly, pacing a few steps away back toward the cage wall.  “All I can say is that…”

                “Don’t even try to tell me whatever the hell is going on doesn’t have something to do with something YOU did, Jason!” yelled Martha back at him, following after.

                “Do not EVEN try to pin this on me!” retorted Jason, already becoming heated in the mere presence of his wife.  They both advanced toward each other, sneering, about to speak again, when they were both silenced by a slow, rhythmic sound, followed by rushes of warm air.  The couple, each perpendicular to the closest cage wall, turned their heads simultaneously, and instantly felt their legs turn to jelly.

                Before them, filling almost the entire cage wall, was a face.  Jason blinked, thinking he was staring at a skyscraper banner advertisement, but as soon as he did, he saw the eyes blink calmly.  Life.  The couple traced their eyes over the monstrous countenance.  It was a woman; this much was obvious.  Her deep brown eyes, with a sprinkling of hazel just to give them a soft glow, seemed to stare right through them, her long eyelashes batting as she blinked, slight laugh wrinkles peeking at the corners of her eyes.  Silky, wavy black hair fell thickly down her shoulders, although it looked neatly kept and brushed.  Her lips were a pale pink, indicating she probably was wearing lip gloss, as the plush pillows of skin also had an indescribable sheen to them, reflecting off the shallow cracks of her lips.  Her nose, long and thin, guided up along the thin cheekbones of her healthily colored face, a few small, nearly invisible birth marks dotting her cheeks sparsely.  The warm air was coming from her nose as she exhaled steadily.

                Jason swallowed hard, his head hurting even more now.  She hadn’t been there a second before; he realized at this point that he had been so into his brief discussion with Martha, he hadn’t noticed a woman’s face, proportionately belonging to a body that stretched out for 150 feet relative to Jason and Martha.  The couple gasped, shaking, as they stepped back.  Their brains had only just begun trying to process the impossible sight before them, when yet another impossibility was presented.

                “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor,” came the soft, gentle voice of the woman, who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, her lips parting to reveal her sparkling white teeth, her attempt at a whisper nonetheless coming in loud and clear to the confused couple.  “Do you both feel all right?”

                Jason grasped at the back of his head, blinking some more while shaking his head.  “This is… this can’t…”

                She grinned.  “Don’t try to think about it, Jason.  You’ll only stress yourself out more.  Just answer the question.”

                Martha nodded, trying to take charge despite her flushed face and bugged eyes.  “W-We’re f-fine…” she answered weakly, still drinking in the sight of this massive woman’s face, unable to get over it.  “W-Where are…”

                “Oh, I’m so sorry.  Where are my manners?” giggled the woman warmly.  “Welcome to my home, such as it is.  I’m afraid I can’t afford much else than an apartment, but you understand how finances are.  I’ll bet you two know it better than most, actually…”

                “W-Wha…”

                “You know.  You’re practically newlyweds.  Just over a year ago, right?  Money’s tight.  You both understand that.”

                “P-Please…” gasped Martha, shaking her head.  “T-Tell us w-what’s g-going on…”  At this point, the only thing keeping Martha from cracking at the movie theater-sized face speaking to them was the purely sweet and caring sound of her voice.  It was, frankly, relaxing Jason as well, despite the fear he still felt readily at the unknowns of his current situation.

                A colossal fingertip suddenly rose into view, covering up the woman’s pursed lips as she continued smiling.  “Shhh… don’t be afraid, little ones.  Everything will become clear very soon.”  With this final word, her entire hand came into view, causing both Jason and Martha to back away in fear.  The hand was so large, her inner palm a wide plain of pale flesh, her fingers like muscular logs as they fumbled with a lock on the side of the cage.  An instant later, the door crashed down metallically, allowing the terrified couple a clearer image of the woman.  Then the hand entered, the fingers outstretched, her unpolished, cleanly filed nails looking like glistening medieval shields plastered onto her fingers.  Jason and Martha didn’t get far, so great was their shock and so quickly did the hand move, that an instant later they both found themselves closed up against the soft palm flesh, like a moving wall so high that Jason knew he wouldn’t be able to reach the top of if he tried.  He guessed that at the current relative difference between them, the woman’s cushy, warm palm would be about as wide as he was tall if he stretched his arms out as far as he could above his head.  Holding the pair side by side, the woman’s fingers curled inward, feeling like padded metal traps holding Jason so firmly against the small of his back and his shoulder blades, he knew in an instant that there would be no moving until the fingers moved.  The couple gasped as wind rushed past their cheeks, although they couldn’t see well because the woman’s hand was conveniently pressed against their faces.  As Jason inhaled in shorter breaths, he could smell the unmistakable scent of hand lotion, very strong in his nostrils, wafting off of her skin.

                Just before Jason or Martha thought they would be sick, they breathed a sigh of relief to feel solid ground beneath their feet, the fingers retracting.  Jason was now able to look forward and see the titaness in all of her glory.  Her face now sat far above them, her arms crossed authoritatively.  She wore a simple light blue sweater, a pair of dune-sized C-cups pressing resiliently against the patterend fabric from inside.  Jason gulped, falling over as he practically forgot how to stand up at the mere sight of her.  Instinctively, he moved toward Martha, and in a moment of rareness for their recent relationship, their fingers touched gently for protection.

                The woman leaned far down over them, making her face once again pretty much all the pair could see.  Jason’s eyes darted around.  He spied a TV the size of a city bank in the far distance.  A couch that looked like it could have been converted into a shipping vessel.  A kitchen table the size of an ancient temple.  Slowly, against the will of his better judgment, Jason’s mind started subconsciously accepting the impossible truth.  Everything else was as big as the woman.  It wasn’t the woman that had done something.  He and his wife were just smaller.

                A lot smaller.

                “Tell us what’s h-happening!” called Martha, waving her arms as if the woman couldn’t see her.  “Who are y-you?”

                The woman smiled again, her eyes glowing like a Christmas tree.  “My name is Amanda, Martha.”

                At this, Martha cocked an eyebrow.  “How do you…”

                “Oh, I know a lot more about you than just your name, Martha.  You two, Jason,” she grinned.  “Your lives.  Your jobs.  Your marital troubles…” she mumbled, sounding sad on these last words.  Martha sputtered, trying to process this.  And finally, it started to sink in as she too examined the cavernous room before them.

                “W-W-Wait… you… then you…”

                Amanda nodded.  “Yes.”

                “No.  YOU… you… you d-did this…” breathed Martha, and the humongous face nodded again, her nostrils flaring as a few stray jet black hairs fell out of place from leaning so far over.

                “Yes.  It was me,” stated Amanda, clearly indifferent to this discovery.  “I’ve brought you both here.”

                Jason, at this point, had summarized his thoughts enough, and was ready to speak up.  “YOU?  You brought us HERE? W-Where ARE we?”

                Amanda chuckled, sending a few short bursts of hot air down onto the couple.  “Try to keep up, Jason.  You’re in my apartment.  But that’s not important right now.  What’s important is why I’ve brought you two here…” she continued, resting her chin on her hand, casually tapping at her lips with a long pointer finger.  Jason and Martha exchanged a confused look.

                “W-Why h-have…”

                “I’m going to save your marriage, Martha,” answered Amanda for her, sounding slightly smug at this goal.

                “S-Save our… WHAT?” shouted Jason, his confusion slowly turning to agitation.

                “Well, let’s face it… it’s a mess…” said Amanda simply and matter-of-factly.  “I mean, YOU, Martha… you never get to spend time with your husband, you work all day at home and never get a day to yourself…” she said, her massive eyes locking with Martha before moving to Jason.  “And you, Jason… you work so hard, all year round, and you never hear a word of thanks.  You’re underappreciated.  You feel disconnected from Martha, don’t you?”

                Jason and Martha froze, horrified to hear their exact feelings spoken by a total stranger.  Their arms shook, turning colder, their fingers locked together for security.  “Who the hell ARE you?” shouted Jason, gaining more confidence.

                “I told you.  I’m Amanda, and this evening…” continued their captor, sitting fully back up, her head rising much higher into the air.  “…I will be your marriage counselor.”

                “Yeah…” mumbled Jason, shaking his head in disbelief, refusing to accept what was being said.  “NOT HAPPENING!  Undo this, whatever the hell it was you did!”  As soon as the last word was out, Jason found a soft thumbprint wider than his face jamming against him so hard he thought his nose might have been broken, the sheer plowing force of the skin hitting him with the similar sensation of a falling anvil on his nose.  He stumbled over to the tabletop instinctively as Amanda retracted her hand, which she had casually swept down onto him.  Martha helped Jason back to his feet, the man tilting his head back and pinching at his nose as he realized it was bleeding.  Amanda began to tsk softly at them, shaking her head.

                “I believe this is part of your problem, Jason…” said Amanda thoughtfully, as if nothing had just happened.  “Your temper.  It’s part of what’s caused your wife to hate you so much.   But don’t worry, though,” she said reassuringly, grinning at them, showing her teeth as Jason stared up in wide wonder at the terrible tower of woman, finally tangibly sure of what she was capable of.  “…we’re going to deal with ALL of that before we’re done here.  First things first, though.  I like to have a very open environment when I’m counseling my troubled newlyweds…” she continued absentmindedly, revealing to the couple with a bone-chilling sensation that she had, indeed, done this before.  “So what I’ll need both of you to do is take your clothes off.”

                She smiled sweetly at them, while they drew a complete mental blank.  “W-What… c-clothes off, you m-mean…” mumbled Jason, the bleeding beginning to slow down, although his nose was still stinging painfully.

                Amanda nodded again.  “Yes.  I mean take your clothes off.  All of them.  Strip down, and leave them on the table here.”

                The couple was dumbfounded.  In their instant of hesitation, though, Amanda had already sighed deeply, seeing she wouldn’t be getting much of anywhere, and brought her hand back up.  Using her thumb, she compressed Jason against the table top, holding him down squarely on his throat, blocking his airflow with her thick, smooth digit.  Martha yelped in fear and horror, rushing forward and locking her arms around the finger and its rippling muscles to try and force it off, but it was no use, and soon Jason started gasping for breath, choking.

                “STOP!  PLEASE!” roared Martha.  “WE’LL DO IT!”

                Immediately, the thumb was removed, and Jason grasped at his bruised throat.  He stared up with newfound appreciation for the situation, and stood up with the help of his wife.

                “That’s better, Martha,” said Amanda softly, her quiet, disarming tones now taking on a terrifying quality as the couple realized how uncharacteristic it was of this sheer giant’s true nature.  “Now get started.  Everything.  I want it all off in the next minute.”

                The couple got to work, throwing shirts down first thing.  Jason had no trouble with this, and even found it not as hard to force his pants off, leaving only his underwear.  However, looking up, he noticed an oddly hungry gleam in Amanda’s eyes as she continued smiling, her face leaning back in against for a good view of this.  She was looking forward to it.  However, she must have noticed his hesitation, because she raised her hand back up, extending her thumb threateningly.

                “Off, Jason.  Now,” she said much more sternly than she had previously.  Swallowing what he believed at the time was the last of his pride (although he was gravely mistaken), Jason closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Amanda’s wide-eyed reaction, and slipped his thumbs into the waistband, dropping his underwear to his feet, standing completely nude before the total stranger who had kidnapped himself and his estranged wife, feeling cool air washing over his entire body from the AC.  Martha did the same, a few tears of shock falling down her cheeks as she ripped the panties and bra from her body.  Now, both people completely naked on the table in the mysterious apartment of the surname-less Amanda, Jason cupped both hands around his member for privacy, Martha doing the same with a forearm across her chest and her other hand over her crotch.

                At this sight, Amanda threw her head back and laughed heartily, hurting the ears of the two embarrassed and scared two and a half inch-tall people.   Wiping her watering eyes, she turned back to them.

                “Oh for God’s sake… really?  Take your hands off your goods, my little lovebirds,” she ordered softly, the cold, shivering couple refusing to budge.  “NOW.”

                And they did, painfully.  Amanda smiled wider, the tip of her tongue slipping wetly out the edge of her mouth as she drunk in the scene, clearly immensely enjoying the sight.  Finally, after a few uncomfortable minutes of silence, with Amanda examining the naked bodies of her two stalked victims unblinking and mesmerized, Martha couldn’t take it anymore and spoke up, the tears still flowing.

                “Why are you DOING this?  What are you g-going to DO w-with us?” she screeched, half-not wanting to know the answer.

                This seemed to break Amanda from her trance.  She cocked her head, smiling out of the corner of her mouth deviously.  “What are we going to do, Martha?” she repeated happily.  “Save your marriage.  Remember?”

                “HOW?”

“We’re going to play some games.  All… kinds… of games…” Amanda sighed softly and pleasurably for emphasis, effectively raising a cushy, warm hand back toward the helpless, naked toys that stood on the table.

Amanda sat in an armchair of her apartment, one bare leg crossed over the other, a pair of moccasins adorning her feet.  On the foot that was suspended in midair, she had allowed the end to slip off her heel, her toes gripping at the cottony interior and bouncing it up and down, slowly pulling it back over her heel before absentmindedly allowing it to drop again, held firm by the tops of her toes as well.  Both hands rested on the arms of the chair, each one balled into a tight fist.  And in each fist happened to be the naked bodies of Jason and Martha, both of whom were shaking and trying not to crack.  Now, with nothing on to separate their bodies from the warm touch of Amanda’s expansive palm flesh, they felt horribly violated, every inch of their bodies being pressed firmly into a skin fold of the gigantic woman’s hand.  They tried shifting out of her grip, but found motion quite impossible and in fact painful, so powerfully were Amanda’s iron fingers latched across their backs.

                Jason groaned uncomfortably, his dick lodged into the base of the crevice between Amanda’s middle and ring fingers, the fingertip of her ring finger having calmly laid itself across his butt.  Slowly, Amanda began stroking his butt cheeks while simultaneously pressing him harder against her hand, forcing his dick fully between her fingers.  He swallowed hard.

                Amanda’s eyes darted between the two of them as she smiled at their horrified, ashen faces.  Finally, her lips parted and she breathed heavily before speaking: a common trait of hers before saying anything, as if she wanted to make sure she had everyone’s attention first.  As if her two tiny captives had forgotten about her already.

                “Jason… Martha…” she began, looking at both of them respectively, her voice still a gentle, creeping whisper in the otherwise silent apartment.  “Let’s get started.  Now, from what I’ve seen, your biggest problems lie in how well you know one another.  Would you say that’s true?”

                The young couple remained tight-lipped though, still trying to process the whole nightmarish situation while also trying to decipher how this cruel stranger knew so much about them.  Jason thought hard, trying to pull anything from his memory.  A coworker at his office?  A taxi driver?  A woman at the bus station?  He had never been more certain of anything in his life: he had never before laid eyes on this woman.  Martha, thinking the same thoughts, arrived at this same conclusion.  Amanda, looking slightly miffed that she hadn’t received an answer, continued, slowly grinding the front side of each naked body into her soft palm with a probing fingertip as if to remind them who was in charge at the moment.  To drive the point home, she cleared her throat before continuing.

                “Tell me, Martha…” she smiled, turning to the little woman in her right hand, who shook even harder to be so directly addressed.  “How well do you… know Jason?”

                Martha looked confused, her brow sweating profusely, but swallowed hard in her dried throat to see Amanda’s expectant expression.  Coughing a bit, and trying fruitlessly to shift her bare legs within the oppressive confines of Amanda’s fist, she spoke.  “K-Know Jason?  P-Pretty well, I… t-think…” she gasped, wanting to get the speaking part over as soon as possible.  Amanda nodded, raising an eyebrow.

                “Good.  All right, then.  What’s Jason’s favorite baseball team?”

                Martha stared dumbfounded up at the enormous face.  Amanda’s eyes were wide and gleaming, clearly waiting patiently for an answer.  Martha cleared her throat again.  “Is… is this a j-joke?”

                “No, it’s not a joke, Martha.  It’s a question.  What’s Jason’s favorite baseball team?”

                Martha looked apprehensively over at Jason, who looked just as confused amidst his understandably uncomfortable expression.  Then, turning back to Amanda, she breathed out and in a few times.  “The… Cubs?”

                The response was immediate.  Amanda’s fingers around Jason’s body tightened, one of her knuckles popping at the rapidness of the effect.  Amanda seemed to be clenching almost as hard as she could, her fingers beginning to lose their color with the effort, her hand quivering slightly as she applied more pressure.  Jason roared with pain, but gritted his teeth, convulsing as he tried to ride it out, most of his body suddenly going numb as he felt his limbs pressed harder against his body than he ever thought humanly possible without breaking.

                “W-What?” gasped Martha, befuddled by what was happening, before her eyes widened.  “NO!  S-STOP, PLEASE!”  The crushing continued for a few more seconds, until Amanda’s grip finally loosened, allowing Jason to flop over, his head resting against her plush flesh, unable to hold it up himself from exhaustion.  He panted heavily, drinking in regular breaths of oxygen while the pain of what he had just experienced slowly crept in, replacing the numbness with biting soreness.  Amanda looked back to Martha with a calm smile.

                “W-Why did you d-do that?” cried Martha, another tear rolling down her cheek.

                “Well, maybe Jason can tell you that,” smiled Amanda, raising her fist a little higher in the air, shifting her finger to help hold Jason’s head up.  She grinned at him sweetly.  “What’s your favorite baseball team, Jason?”

                Jason gulped, closing his eyes with the effort of trying to lift his head up instead of needing to rest his chin on Amanda’s perched finger, then spoke.  “W-W-White S-Sox…”

                “But… but…” mumbled Martha, confused still.  “B-But he didn’t DO anything!  It was ME!”

                Amanda nodded.  “Exactly.  A marriage is a partnership, Martha, but you keep treating it like a war.  To have love, you have to have understanding.  Knowledge of one another.  This is key,” she said strictly and professionally.  Clearly, she was practiced at this.

                Martha was speechless, the whole operation beginning to sink in.  Amanda’s head calmly turned to Jason, then, raising her fist up to eye level and raising his head again.  She chuckled girlishly.  “C’mon, little guy, don’t be shy…” she cooed at Jason.  “It’s your turn now.”

                Jason stiffened, finally holding his head up.  “That’s a good boy.  NOW…” she said, biting her lip, trying to think up a good question.  “What is Martha’s favorite movie?”

                Jason stared across the way at Martha, helpless at first, which in turn caused Martha’s eyes to boggle.  If he answered incorrectly, she had a feeling a very similar fate awaited her.  “What is Martha’s favorite movie, Jason?” repeated Amanda a little more sternly.  Time was running out.

                Jason wracked his brain, which was already overloaded with denial at the situation, his body still aching badly from the python-like compression he had just experienced in the hot grip of Amanda’s totalitarian fingers.  Movies… movies… movies.  He hadn’t gone to see a movie with Martha in half a year.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t watched a movie with her in half a year.  He groaned, a slight trace of guilt entering his mind.  Suddenly, though, when he was afraid all hope was lost, it occurred to him, and he stared up at Amanda with confidence that surprised even himself.

                “Gone with the Wind.  Her favorite movie is Gone with the Wind,” he answered, his heart pounding in his chest.  He felt so sure, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he wasn’t certain anymore.  Had he answered too quickly?  However, his fluttering chest was put to relative rest when Amanda nodded approvingly at him.  She looked back to Amanda, then.

                “Your husband seems to know you better than you know him, Martha.  But that’s okay.  You’ll get another chance to redeem yourself…” she smiled, sending chills down the backs of both tiny newlyweds.  Martha began to shake her head no, which caught Amanda’s attention.  She parted her lips, squinting at Martha in curiosity.  “No?”

                “NO!” screamed Martha.  “P-Please… d-don’t do this…”

                “Why not?  You’re married, aren’t you?  Shouldn’t you know this pretty well?” mused Amanda.  “What kind of WIFE are you, Martha?”

                Martha would normally have taken great offense to this and probably even have spoken up, but something deep in her brain suggested that this was not the proper place to test out her resistance skills.  She swallowed hard, looking down, her eyes following the shallow, thin grooves of Amanda’s fingerprints along the muscular finger that had Martha gripped right across her naked chest.  With no more response of protest, Amanda cleared her throat again.

                “Let’s try another one, then.  Martha.  Jason’s favorite food.  That one can’t be hard, right?  You’re a housewife.  You cook, don’t you?” she said, cocking her head slightly.  Martha nodded slowly, looking back up with watery eyes.  “His favorite food, Martha.  That’s all I want,” smiled Amanda.

                Martha shut her eyes tightly, trying to think.  She had cooked, sure, but Jason never particularly enjoyed her cooking.  She didn’t either; she had gotten the bad culinary genes in her family, so most of the time she and Jason got take-out.  Why did I never learn to cook better, questioned Martha in her mind.  Why did I never watch mom more closely?  At family get-togethers, at dinner time?  Why did Jason and I never sit down for a real meal together?

                “I’m waiting, Martha,” sang Amanda impatiently.  “Time’s up.  I want your answer.”

                “Ah… ah…” gasped Martha, her heart racing as she stared over at Jason’s pleading, disbelieving face.  “P-Pork c-chops?”

                Amanda turned back to Jason, shaking her head.  “Boy, Jason…” she laughed.  “You sure can pick ‘em, huh?” With that, her hand compressed back in against Jason’s body, causing him to scream with pain as she rippled her fingers over his naked body, steadily sending shooting pain through every part of him, from his neck and down to his toes, heavily bruising him as she did.  He writhed against her hand, trying to get a grip on her fingers and hopefully push one off.  But he quickly found that this, even when using all of his strength, was impossible.  Jason grunted in agony as the numbness returned steadily.  Martha, having a feeling shouting wouldn’t do much good, instead began to weep into the crevice of Amanda’s hand, wishing so desperately that it was her body being crunched, not Jason’s.  He had known her well enough to save her, but twice already she had failed him.

                Martha’s punishment of being forced to watch her husband crushed between the deathly walls of soft palm and malleable finger flesh lasted a bit longer this time, but finally ended, releasing the once-again limp Jason to lean painfully against Amanda’s cradling palm.  He only whimpered slightly this time, keeping his eyes closed.

                “Stay with us, Jason.  Your wife needs you now.”

                Jason sputtered, and couldn’t help but glare a little over at the incredibly guilt-ridden Martha.  However, he was still ready to help defend her.  Ironically, he had a feeling that if she continued like this, there would be no one to answer her own questions and save her from a similar fate.

                “You seem to be pretty good at this, Jason, so let’s get a little trickier, shall we?” Amanda giggled, narrowing her eyes as if scheming.  Jason weakly tried to shake his head no, but this was out of the question at this point.  “You’re the go-getter type, aren’t you?  Okay, pay attention.  I won’t repeat myself now.  What is your wife’s favorite place to shop?”

                Already, Jason’s blood was running cold.  He knew his chances of answering this one correctly were about one in a hundred.  How could a man possibly be expected to know a question like that about his wife, he wondered to himself.

                “W-Why should I KNOW that?” gasped Jason.  “I d-don’t go shopping with her!”

                Amanda nodded.  “True.  But… didn’t you get her a Christmas present?  Surely you had to go somewhere to get it.  So go ahead.  Give me your best shot…” she smiled, wiggling her fingers against his dick suggestively.  Admittedly, it felt a bit good, but he quickly returned his eyes up to Amanda, ignoring the feeling.

                “I… I… d-don’t kn…” he began, but was cut off.

                “JUST GUESS!” screamed Martha.  “YOU HAVE TO-” she yelped, but she too was cut off as the finger gripping her across the chest shifted upward, covering her mouth and pressing her head further down into her long fist.

                “Ah-ah-ah-AH, Martha.  No audience participation,” winked Amanda, raising her thumb.  Gently, she pressed down on the top of Martha’s head, fully inserting her into her warm fist.  At two and a half inches tall, Martha was easily swallowed up inside Amanda’s closed hand.  She turned back to Jason, who gulped.  “No pressure, Jason, but if you get this wrong, her head is going to get in on the action now.”

                Jason could scarcely breath.  “T-That’s n-not FAIR!” he bellowed.  “I couldn’t POSSIBLY…”

                “Answer the question, lovey, or I do it anyway,” snapped Amanda, slowly beginning the compression process with her fist.  Jason could hear the pained scream of Martha inside the warm, no-doubt perspiring fist skin, and he stuttered, trying to formulate his thoughts.  He had never in his life felt this helpless.

                “MACY’S!” he yelled, shaking with the effort.

                Amanda considered him a moment, raising her eyebrows in surprise.  He sighed with relief.  It seemed he had gotten it right.

                For an instant, anyway.

                “No offense, hubby,” she grinned.  “But I’m starting to think the pair of you rushed into this WAY too soon.”  With this final word, her other fist began closing, balling up the helpless, naked body of Martha inside.  It was much harder than the squeezes given to Jason and, true to her word, Amanda even made sure Martha’s little face was fully pressed against a burly finger crevice, tightening it against her and cutting off her air, which was already in short supply.  Every inch of Martha’s body was being worked over by Amanda’s steadily vibrating fingers, kneading into her bruised sides with her rippling digits; the woman had clearly done this many times before, as well.

                “NO!” screamed Jason, pulling himself to his feet on pure adrenaline and rushing to the edge of the open hand, Amanda’s probing, masturbatory finger raising off of his body.  However, Amanda quickly raised a thumb, smacking him in the face again and knocking him flat on his ass into her palm, gripping his once-again ravaged nose as her fingers closed back around him, her ring finger falling casually back over his crotch and slowly working at it.  Finally, she ended Jason’s punishment as well, loosening the fist that had Martha balled up inside.  The little woman collapsed, wheezing and moaning, running her hands all over her exposed, battered body in pain.  All Jason could do was cry.

                “I’m sorry, you two,” cooed Amanda.  “I’m so sorry that the two of you have made this necessary.  We’ve got a lot more work to do here than I was expecting,” she said, bringing both tired, terrorized bodies up nearer to her eyes for a closer look.  “But don’t worry… your new friend Amanda is going to fix ALL of it…” she whispered in a voice that bordered on motherly affection.  Lowering her chin toward the two indifferent people, she planted a gentle, puckered kiss with her softly pursed lips onto each of their stomachs before smiling down at them again.

                “Amanda’s going to make it all better for you.”

                Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to lift his head.  He figured he had passed out soon after receiving two mind-shatteringly painful clenches from Amanda’s consequence-dealing fist, and it was all thanks to his wife’s inability to know a single thing about him.  How hard would it have been to just find out those things about me, thought Jason angrily.  How could she not KNOW those things, or have even a good GUESS.

                Before he could ponder it for long, though, Jason found himself being dragged forward, and as his vision cleared up, he realized that Amanda was once again leaning far over him.  But it wasn’t her fingers gripping his ankles.  He looked down his body to see a string, tightly bound around his feet and calves and holding them together.  The end of the string stretched out past his limbs, and the end of it was wrapped around Amanda’s right pointer finger.  She grinned at him, before dramatically raising her finger up into the air.  Jason quickly curled toward his ankles, grasping at the string, but found it so thick relative to his hands and so tightly wound, there was no hope of getting it off with the few seconds remaining.  Flopping back down against the tabletop, he soon found himself hanging limply upside down in the air as Amanda raised him back up, dangling him like a worm on a hook.  He flailed helplessly, looking around, suddenly realizing he wasn’t sure where Martha was.  Failing to find her, his heart thumped against the inside of his chest loudly as he turned and found himself staring eye-to-eye with Amanda’s serving platter-sized irises.

                “Oh, good…” whispered Amanda.  “You’re awake again.”

                “Ugh…” mumbled Jason, releasing control of all his muscles, allowing himself to just hang.  His body was far too sore from Amanda’s little improvised game show to have the strength to try and reach up and undo his bonds.  Even if he managed to get them off, Jason had a feeling the doom drop down to the tabletop wouldn’t do his health any favors.  Blinking a few times and gritting his teeth to help counter the pounding in his head, he refocused on Amanda’s eyes, watching them twitch ever so slightly, her pupils practically flashing in and out of dilation as she studied him.  “W-Where is M-Martha…” he gulped.

                Amanda nodded slowly, approvingly.  “Good, good, we’re getting somewhere then… you seem to care about how she’s doing.  Don’t you?” she smiled.  He shook his head wildly.

                “Of c-course!  She’s my wife!”

                Amanda smirked.  “Oh please, Jason.  She’s your wife on a piece of paper.  But do you really KNOW what that means?”

                “I d-don’t think you can understand h-how we feel about one another!”

                She chuckled, the tiny laugh wrinkles creasing around her eyes.  “No, I guess I can’t.  But I apparently know both of you better than either of you know each other.  Isn’t that just a little bit sad?”

                At this reminder, Jason began to sweat.  “Listen… I d-don’t know who the fuck you are, b-but…”

                “I’m just a friend, Jason.  Remember: I’m here to help you.  I’m going to make sure that you and Martha can look at each other like deep, passionate lovers by the time I’m done with you.”

                “D-Done with us?”

                “Of course.  I always make sure to do a thorough job.”

                Jason was silent for a moment.  “P-Please… tell me w-where Martha is…”

                Amanda tsked a few times, shaking her head again.  “It really is very sweet that you’re so worried about where Martha is…” said Amanda.  “But frankly, Jason, I think you should be a little more concerned with where YOU are.  Or, at least… where you’re going…”

                Brandishing Jason’s body on the string a few times, Amanda whipped her head back, her black hair locks flashing through the air like silk streamers, then opened her jaw wide, looking up at the ceiling.  Jason found himself being raised higher and higher, until Amanda was reaching far over her head, holding his body over her head.  She then began moving him slowly to a position right over her upturned face.  Right over her waiting, open mouth, in fact.

                Jason, still hanging upside down, stared down into the black depths of Amanda’s gaping jowls.  Her teeth glistened in the light, shined to slimy perfection with spit.  Even from about six inches over her mouth, he could see tiny, colorless tufts of chewed food hidden deep between a few of her teeth.  Down further, he shook to see her pink tongue slipping and sliding around against the wet, undulating floor, pointing and sliding up toward the roof of her mouth, drawing wet circles around the top, allowing Jason to see the underside of her dripping muscle.

                “W-Wha… what are y-you…” gasped Jason, unable to process the sight below him until he felt the string lowering.  Amanda’s mouth came about an inch closer than before, when the string was pulled taut again and Jason came to a stop, his arms swinging helplessly.  “WAIT!” he screamed.  “NO!  S-STOP!”

                Amanda closed her mouth for a second, giggling, before opening it wide again, a fresh batch of saliva having coated her partially dried teeth.  “Don’t get too worked up, Jason.  We wouldn’t want your wife to feel too much pressure.”

                “W-Where is she?” demanded Jason, although the effect fizzled a bit as he whispered it so timidly.

                “Right where you left her,” smiled Amanda.  Far below, Jason could see Amanda’s other hand, closed into a fist, slowly opening, her fingers unfurling in a show of terrifying grace.  Martha unrolled herself from the fetal position, crawling across Amanda’s hand slowly, finally perching her upper torso on the heel of the gigantic appendage.

                “MARTHA!” roared Jason as loudly as he could, cupping his hands around his mouth.  She looked around dizzily for a moment, then caught sight of him so far above, and fell back in terror, realizing where he was.

                “J-J-J…” she whimpered, holding a hand above her head, but her cheek collapsed against the thick heel of Amanda’s hand again before she could finish the word.  Amanda sniggered warmly, tilting her head down slightly at Martha.

                “Oh, my poor little woman…” whispered Amanda, seeming to have genuine concern in her voice.  “Don’t worry.  Amanda’s still got you.”  Slowly, the gargantuan kidnapper curled her thumb back in, laying her fingerprint atop Martha’s hair.  She then began slowly stroking down the tiny body, paying particular attention to Martha’s butt cheeks, wiggling them side to side ever so slightly before working her way down Martha’s legs, simply brushing her doughy fingertip along them with great care.

                “STOP THAT!  Don’t touch her!” yelled Jason, fumbling uselessly against his bonds before flopping back down.  Amanda, clearly uncaring of Jason’s request, continued gently kneading her soft finger along the length of Martha’s naked, aching body before looking back upward into Jason’s dangling face.

                “Trust me, sugar…” said Amanda, cocking an eyebrow.  “You’re going to want her in working condition for this next part.”  Jason was left speechless as the titanic captor lowered her gaze back to Martha and ceased the slow stroking.  “Martha?  I hope you feel a little better after our last fun little game, because it’s time for the next one.  Ready?”

                Martha didn’t budge as the rest of Amanda’s fingers curled in, grasping crudely around Martha’s sides and pushing her further to the heel of the hand.  From there, Amanda splayed her thumb out of the way, allowing her to curl her other four fingers halfway down into her palm, as if she was about to file her nails.  Slowly, Martha pulled herself back up, looking fearfully into Amanda’s statuesque face, shining a gentle smile down on the battered housewife.

                “I’ll bet you get this all the time, Martha but… you sure picked a winner here, huh?” asked Amanda politely.  “Get a load of that pack!” she snickered, eyeing Jason’s well-toned abdominals.  “Looks good.  Almost good enough to…” came her slithering voice, growing huskier as she spoke, as if the mere sight of Jason was turning her on.  Then, her hand holding the string went lower.  Jason screeched, convulsing, as he came to a stop about an inch above Amanda’s muggy mouth interior.  He could now make out further horrifying details of what he feared would soon be his temporary home before being swallowed whole: the slick pink walls of her cheeks, the frothy flow of sputum spilling down the back of her tongue toward her throat, the smoothly indented grooves of her molars, looking like carved, ivory-painted stone.  Lowering a hand in stupefied wonder, he touched the tips of his fingers against her damp, plush lips, the image now palpably hitting him, and he retracted his hand immediately, gasping, his air now completely gone.

                “D-DON’T!” moaned Martha, growing hopeless.  “W-What do I h-have to d-do?”

                “Just a second here, Martha,” said Amanda off-handedly, not even looking down at her.  “I’m having my hors d'oeuvre.”  Slowly, Amanda’s rippling, flushed tongue slipped out of the deep, wet pit of her upward-facing mouth, turning to the side slightly as it reached toward Jason.  His arms, still hanging limply, were lightly tapped by the animalistic, writhing organ, leaving a tiny droplet of translucent slop along his hands and forearms as Amanda slowly retracted her tongue back down, quickly swiping it around her lips and murmuring deliciously before sucking it back into her mouth.

                “Leave him ALONE, NOW!” screeched Martha, finally fully awakened despite her pounding headache and utter terror.  Sitting up on her haunches, she began pounding her little fists against Amanda’s fingers.  She knew she couldn’t do much physically, but if she could just get Amanda’s attention and irritations directed at herself instead of Jason, she was willing to handle whatever was coming her way.  She figured Jason had already paid his prices in full; perhaps more.

                Amanda’s head tilted back down toward Martha in her open palm, her tongue poking between her lips, her eyes squinting, daring Martha to continue.  Finally, after getting no response from the frozen, puny woman, Amanda chuckled, “What?  Is that all you have for me?”

                Martha cocked her head, dumbfounded.  “W-What?”

                “Oh come on, don’t tell me no one’s ever looked at Jason like this.”

                Mentally, Martha noted with grim fear that, no, no person had ever looked at Jason and decided they wanted to eat him before now.  However, she was starting to get the drift.

                “I… I g-guess…”

                “He’s sort of a stud, you know.  You lucked out, if you ask me.  He could have done a lot better than you,” said Amanda calmly, trying to rile up the tiny wife.

                “S-Stop that!” cried Martha, her voice cracking as she watched Amanda’s head turning back up.  Her tongue came out again, tubing up, encasing Jason’s dangling arm, sliming it completely down to his shoulder.  Now, becoming agitated at her powerlessness, Martha recommenced the pounding on Amanda’s fingers.  Her fists became tired pretty quickly, as at her size, Amanda’s finger skin, particularly around her nail beds, was tough and firm.  It felt to Martha like she was hitting a thick punching bag, not a feminine digit.  To keep herself going, Martha began to grunting with rage.

                Amanda, her tongue still curled in against itself around Jason’s now-slippery, slobbery limb, laughed as she retracted her tongue back into her mouth, looking back down at the steadily infuriated Martha, who was now busily hammering away against Amanda’s fingertips despite the soreness in her knuckles.  Jason quickly grabbed at his own arm with his other hand, trying to wipe away some of the thick layers of saliva that had become caked around his skin.

                “That’s it…” soothed Amanda as Martha continued the pounding.  “Fight me.”  However, with a few more seconds of this, Amanda’s fingers reacted, flicking upward and striking Martha hard under the chin.  She flopped backward safely against the heel of Amanda’s hand, quickly pulling herself back up, looking up confusedly at Amanda as she rubbed at her sore jaw.

                “W-What?”

                “Don’t stop, or I’ll let him go even lower in,” laughed Amanda.  “Keep going.”  Shaking her head, Martha righted herself and continued punching the fingers.  However, this time, Amanda curled her hand into a cup, shooting her middle finger out.  It jammed itself hard against Martha’s stomach, forcing her down into a submissive position in the center of Amanda’s palm.  Pressing down slowly against Martha’s stomach, Amanda began kneading her finger back and forth along the smooth abs of the little woman, uncomfortably violating her while simultaneously denying her clear breaths of oxygen.

                “B-But you S-SAID!” gasped Martha, and Amanda tsked again.

                “No… I said fight me.  That’s what you should always do, Martha.  You’ve always just laid down and let women fawn over your hubby.  Hasn’t it always pissed you off to see that?”

                “Y-Yes!” gasped Martha, her world growing dark as the middle fingertip pressed down harder and harder against her stomach.

                “Then DO something about it!”

                “I C-CAN’T!”

                “Fine.  Bon appetit, Jason,” giggled Amanda, lowering the string again.  This time, half of Jason’s body passed below the border of the pink lips, and he suddenly found himself in the humid haze of Amanda’s mouth, her odd breath filling his lungs, the air damp with misty spit.  He whimpered, terrified, but managed to stay still, knowing that flailing would only result in his touching against some disgusting and wet surface, which would only serve to remind him of his predicament and no-doubt terrify him right out of his precariously cool state.  This attempt was rendered moot when Amanda’s tongue snaked upward, no longer content to politely tap at his hands, and wrapped itself around his face, stiffening his hair with gummy spit, forcing his face along the rough, slimy grooves of her taste buds.  Shocked at the sudden gesture, Jason thrust his arms around the wriggling tongue, feeling sick to his stomach as he felt the muscle beneath the tough, malleable skin practically vibrating at his touch.  He opened his mouth, screaming, as a horrid throatful of Amanda’s mucus-clogged drool dribbled between his lips.

                “You… B-BITCH!”  screeched Martha with the little air she had left, latching her hands around the powerful finger.  Using all her strength, she began pushing upward on the cool touch, the plush flesh flexing as she did.  Satisfied with her effort, Amanda removed her finger from Martha but kept Jason closely wrapped into her threshing tongue.  With renewed zeal, Martha leapt onto the retracted fingers and got to work, striking at them with everything she had left.  This time, Amanda came from behind, lifting her thumb and bringing it down on Martha’s back, pressing her down against the fingers.  Martha groaned under the crushing weight of Amanda’s muscular finger, but continued thrashing at the other fingers.  Then, slowly, Amanda began tilting her thumb downward, shifting her pressing position down from her soft thumbprint and onto her fingernail.  Her nails were smoothly circular and had clearly been filed recently, but this didn’t change the fact that her nails were reasonably long, and as she tilted it, Amanda began sliding her nail along Martha’s back.

                Martha groaned with the pain but continued fighting.  However, as she did, she felt her back becoming raw within a few strong strokes of Amanda’s nail.  Then, with a final, skin-rending dig, Amanda pierced Martha’s pale skin from the base of her shoulder blades to the top of her butt, the tip of her nail turning red with fresh blood.  Martha screamed from the pain, and collapsed again, seeming to succumb to the weight of Amanda’s finger, several blood droplets streaming down her bruised back.

                With a final few thick strokes along her tongue, Amanda peeled the sticky, repugnant Jason out of her hot mouth, allowing him to gasp weakly for air and try hopelessly to bat the horrible mouth juices out of his gooey hair.  She finally granted Martha her full attention, allowing the dripping Jason to swing in the breeze above her head again.   “What’s this?  Did I tell you to stop, Martha?”

                “I c-can’t…” mumbled Martha, her arms shaking with the stinging, her teeth clenched together as she moaned continuously with pain, several drops of her blood settling into the creases of Amanda’s palm.  “It hurts…”

                “Yes, you can.  You have to.  You always have to.  Being an assertive woman is a full-time job, Martha.  And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll be able to fend the man-eaters off of your sweetie pie,” she whispered, quickly letting the string slack as the yelping Jason was dropped back into her mouth, this time all the way, his feet disappearing past the soft, pink rim.  She pinned him back against her cheek with her tongue, his breathless face digging so far back against her tongue that his nostrils were filled with the white, gooey bacteria field on the back of her wet organ; Amanda gagged lightly having him so far back in and close to her throat, but she managed to keep her jaw open, a drop of saliva tumbling down her chin with the effort.

                Crying heavily from the pain and fear for her soon-to-be-devoured husband if she didn’t act, Martha swallowed as much of the pain as she could, continuing to punch against Amanda’s unaffected fingertips.  As soon as she did, Amanda resumed sweeping her fingernail right back into the bleeding wound along Martha’s mutilated backside, digging hard and increasing the stinging sensation.  Martha screamed loudly, her arms quivering so hard she could barely focus let alone stay conscious, but her desire to save Jason from consumption kept her going somehow: reserve energy the tortured Martha had never known was there before.  More blood began trickling down her sides, staining her skin crimson.

                “At’s a ‘ood ‘irl,” giggled Amanda wetly, unable to form solid consonant sounds with her mouth opened and her tongue pressed so firmly against Jason’s helpless naked body.

                Jason’s eyelids lifted again, more painfully this time.  He felt the familiar wood flakes underneath his naked back: the hamster cage again.  His entire body felt bruised and sore, his ribs in particular having been compressed far more than was healthy by Amanda’s fingers.  He lifted both arms, waving in the fuzzy environment around him as his eyes adjusted.  It took a minute of staring confusedly at his arms and hands, which had picked up several of the tinier wood flakes, until he remembered how sticky his body must still have been from being caked in layer after layer of Amanda’s saliva as he was violently dragged up and down her curled tongue like a worm on a hook.  It was the encrusted droobles of her spit around his entire body picking it up so easily.  He sat up, gripping his sides, and found wood flakes sticking to nearly his entire backside, from his feet up to his gummy hair; Amanda had done a very thorough job on him, that much he could tell and feel.  The horrible, slimy, warm sensation still lingered in his nerve endings, and as he sat up, the cool air hitting him, he flinched, reminded of the brief gusts of air entering Amanda’s muggy mouth before being quickly followed up by a fresh slathering in her muculent froth.  He shivered, gasping with relief as the comforting sensation of nothing but cool air touching his skin continued.

Several feet over, as he regained complete consciousness, he found Martha, sprawled down on her stomach.  He rushed to her, shivering with fear and sympathy to see the deep cut along most of her back that Amanda had created with her thumbnail.  It seemingly had begun to scab over; not being a doctor and certainly not professing to have much medical knowledge beyond the common, Jason estimated that they must have been back in the cage for hours.  Grimly, he noted that Amanda must have been trying to give them a break before whatever was coming next because, clearly, she wasn’t done with them yet, as indicated by their continued lack of clothing, their normally rodent-inhabited surroundings, and the matter of their roughly over two inch tall stature.  At least she had laid Martha face down on the flakes to allow her painful wound to try and heal properly noted Jason, biting his lip. 

All of this had happened so fast, Jason couldn’t even sum up the energy to be mad at Amanda for her horrifying, unspeakable crimes she had thus far committed.  His emotions had been entirely expended on caring for his own wellbeing and that of his wife.  He found this odd, realizing he didn’t feel a single shred of anger at Amanda.  What was it, he thought?  Wonder?  Confusion?

Terror.  Sheer, unadulterated, gut-wrenching, pan-searing, piss-shooting terror.  That was it.

Jason realized, upon this discovery, that he couldn’t even picture Amanda as a person.  Not only was she a total stranger, and he thusly had no visual image of her as a normal sized person to use, but she was so amazingly cruel and twisted, she seemed like a wanted killer Jason might have seen on TV.  And yet her voice was so calm and soothing, he realized how relatively easily himself and his wife had surrendered their clothes and dignity in a moment of perplexed weakness.

There was also the fact that Amanda, at her relative height to Jason and Martha, dwarfed the Statue of Liberty: a towering, evil, omnipotent goddess of a woman with the means to kill either of them so easily in a seemingly endless number of ways.  This, too, contributed to the difficulty in viewing her as what was truthfully a five foot six, black haired, brown eyed woman who lived in a small apartment, and also happened to be the single most insane person Jason had ever met.

                Jason hovered over his wife, her chest heaving unevenly in pain, as his eye caught sight of something laying a few feet away, hidden partially by a wood flake.  He crawled over cautiously, unsure of what could possibly compel him to be more afraid than he already was of the gigantic woman that had decided to own himself and his wife like a pair of gerbils, and lifted out a small, fingertip band-aid from the flakes.  It looked like it would fit Martha’s back perfectly.  Jason looked between the bandage and his wife, and gulped to realize Amanda had even accounted for Martha’s injury, no doubt wanting her healed faster for further abuse.  Quivering, Jason unpeeled the band-aid from the plastic seal and tried to angle it over Martha’s back.

                “Hold still, Martha,” he whispered.  “This will probably sting.”

                “What are you…” began Martha before breaking into a squeal of agony as Jason pressed the circular bandage as carefully as he could onto her back, covering the nail wound.  “What are you DOING?”

                “She… left it for you here in the…” began Jason, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to utter the word “cage” in this context.

                Martha groaned with pain, petting at the velvety back of the band-aid as she began crying again.  “Jason… we… we have to try to remember…”

                “What?” asked Jason more curtly than he intended, being very on edge.

                Martha looked at him weakly, annoyed, but continued.  “Where the HELL did she come from?”

                “I don’t KNOW.  Don’t you think I’d tell you if I knew something?  I can’t remember a goddamn thing.”

                “Jason, you’re the one who leaves the house the most… it MUST have been through you.”

                “No,” grumbled Jason, rubbing at his aching temple.

                “THINK.”

                “Don’t TELL me what to DO!” shouted Jason, unleashing his anger at once, balling his hands into fists as he took several steps away from his whimpering wife to clear his head.

                “Hmm… now, don’t take this the wrong way, you two…” came the soft, familiar whisper coming in through the dense bars of the cage like an intercom system.  “…but so far, I’m not seeing any progress.”

                Jason did a double take, his throat going dry again, as Amanda’s enormous fingers picked at the latch on the cage, unhooking it and allowing him a fuller view of her.  As soon as the door was down, Jason felt a small cough developing in his throat.  He wasn’t sure what it was for a moment, until he took a closer look at Amanda’s billboard face, thick beads of sweat dotting her slick forehead, her bangs matted down against her sticky skin.  Inhaling more regularly, Jason realized his throat was disagreeing with the oxygen because it reeked of fresh, cold, putrefied sweat mist practically flowing off of Amanda’s body; Jason’s small nose absolutely no match for the stench on such a scale. 

With his brain having processed the odor, Jason began coughing more heavily, although the rest of his body remained stiff with terror.  This allowed Amanda’s soft fingers to easily wrap themselves back around his frozen body without a single, heedless physical bit of resistance.  Lifting him slowly out of the cage, Jason could smell the damp skin of her palm, actually getting his own skin wet.  Her other hand began reaching for Martha.  Jason was about to object, but aside from the fact that this would have proved useless, he was taken aback as Amanda’s fingers slipped gently underneath Martha’s naked body as if picking up a dead bird, cradling Martha gently in her palm, careful not to jar her wound.  She nodded as she pulled her out into view.

“You saw my little present; that’s good.  Wouldn’t want you two feeling too sick for our fun little activities…” she cooed, pursing her lips in adoration.  Turning and taking several steps back into the great cavern of her modest apartment, she rolled her head around, letting her sweat-tangled hair bat around her shoulders.  “You’ll have to excuse me… I just got back from gym…” she said, taking a slow seat at her kitchen table.  “Rode the treadmill for an hour and a half, did some yoga…” she groaned wearily, lowering both hands toward the table and releasing them gently, uncurling Jason from his finger prison and allowing Martha to slide out of her cupped palm.  Jason ran to his wife, seeking redemption for his terrible tone earlier, but Martha just pulled away.

“Martha…” wheezed Jason, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“And BELIEVE ME…” cut in Amanda, leaning far in over her two captives, making any privacy impossible.  “I worked my ass off…” she whispered, her voice suddenly dropping for emphasis; she sounded very pleased with herself.  “In fact… I hope you two don’t mind this…” she breathed heavily, scooting the chair out with an eardrum-shattering squeal on the tile floor.  “But I’m not sure I can handle the humidity in this place much more…”

Jason watched timidly as Amanda stood back to full height, allowing him to see her entire body finally.  He then realized why the scent of her salty excretions had been so pungent; her clothes were so dark and sticky, it seemed only the very base of her blue shirt hadn’t sustained the complete wave of sweat that seemed to have bathed Amanda over the course of her workout.  She pinched at the shirt over her abs, peeling it off her warm skin and tugging at it a few times to air herself out.  She panted, twirling a finger in her matted hair.  Then, flattening her hands against her damp sides, she slid them slowly downward, tracing the curve of her hips, digging her fingers against her skin through the saturated clothes as they made their way down to the elastic waistband of her black running shorts.  Her thumbs slipped in and, pushing outward against the fabric, she slipped them downward, dropping her pants to the ground.

Jason winced, becoming more and more nervous about what was going on, then watched with wide wonder and mixed petrification as Amanda slipped her thumbs into the strap of her white panties, tugging at them a bit, stretching them across her toned hips, her recently worked, tanned quads pulsing as she took a step forward.  Her thumbs slid downward and pulled, allowing the panties to slip to the ground too as Amanda turned her back to Jason and Martha.

                Amanda’s naked ass barreled toward Jason like the nose of a crashing blimp, filling his field of vision with her tight, pale gluts.  The firm cheeks crashed heavily onto the kitchen table, flexing and clenching a few times as Amanda settled into a more comfortable position, murmuring with the comfort of allowing her lower body to air out on the cool surface of the table, freed from the restrictive, wet clothes.  As the edges of her rotund butt lifted and fell a few micrometers with each shift, Jason couldn’t help but notice the wet, glistening sheen left on the stained wood tabletop: sweat prints.  Jason shuddered, taking several steps back, and couldn’t help but gasp uneasily with fear.

                “Don’t be embarrassed, Jason,” smiled Amanda, looking over her shoulder and down at Jason, who now stood behind her, very near to her fully exposed bottom.  “Remember what I want?  A comfortable, open environment.  Very…” she whispered unchastely, scooching back on the table a few centimeters toward Jason with a soft squeak from her fleshy cheeks.  Jason leapt back.

                “…very…” she continued, going back a bit further, to which Jason responded by nearly tripping over Martha’s prone form.  “…VERY comfortable.  Besides, I can see more of you than you can see of me.”

                Jason looked down at his painfully visible body, marveling at the sheer humiliation he had been forced to endure by bearing all so generously to a total stranger, for the sake of keeping his health relatively intact.  While not being a sexist, Jason couldn’t help but note that this situation tended only to come around when the genders were reversed.  As he stared into the rounded, bulbous walls of Amanda’s butt cheeks, ending at what look liked an entire office story height upward with her sweat-darkened shirt still clinging to her body so tightly that the strap of her sports bra was visible through the shirt in an outline.

                As Jason’s eyes fell back from Amanda’s shoulder blades up in the relative stratosphere and back to her bare ass spread plainly on the tabletop right in front of him, he recoiled in disgust to see a bead of sweat slipping down Amanda’s right butt cheek, dripped from the inside of her shirt.  It slid to the tabletop and plunked.  Then another.  And another, all gently trickling down Amanda’s naked bottom and onto the tabletop.  Trembling, Jason returned to his wife’s side, but was again rejected.

                “I apologize for this...” sighed Amanda, slamming both hands flat on the table for support as she leaned back slightly.

                “W-Why?”

                “Because I have a feeling neither of you will enjoy this very much at all.”

                Did we ever enjoy it, thought Jason grimly to himself.

                “But trust me…” reassured Amanda, sounding like a supportive friend.  “It’s all for the best.”

                Martha pulled herself to her feet, pushing aside Jason’s offered assistance, but nearly staggered back to the tabletop at the sight of the rounded, glistening, sweat-drenched ass that was laid before them.  Whimpering slightly still, she clung to Jason, more for security than out of forgiveness, but at this point the tiny man didn’t really care.

                “What is?” yelled Jason up to Amanda’s face far above, gaining some confidence in the embrace of his wife.

                “Our next bond-strengthening exercise.  I’ll need both of you to walk up to me, and pick a side,” instructed Amanda, lifting her palms off the table slightly and bending at her fingertips as she waited.  She didn’t need to explain it; Jason already knew perfectly well what she meant.  She meant for each of them to stand in front of a cheek.  “And trust me…” began Amanda, bypassing the almost assured nervous resistance from her captives.  “This is much easier to do in a standing up position, instead of from underneath.”

                Chills were sent down Jason’s spine and legs as he nodded to his wife, who instantly dug her heels into the table and shook her head no, but somehow she was convinced by Jason’s intense expression.  Neither of them wanted to find out what made this way so much easier than the alternative, and Jason had a feeling Amanda wouldn’t hesitate to demonstrate if need be.

                Jason helped Martha hobble to a position within touching distance of Amanda’s right cheek, while he himself worked his way to the left one.  The slick, supple flesh seemed to be like a pale, fallen hot air balloon before him, yet it had almost no slack, with the tautness of the muscle behind the sweat-smeared skin.

                “Marriage is all about putting your partner first…” Amanda chimed confidently, not even looking down at them anymore, but instead towards ceiling.  “So right now, I’m going to let you two choose who’s the lucky one, and who’s… well…” she chuckled.  “Who ISN’T as lucky…”

                Martha went down on her haunches, as the pain in her back was starting up again, whimpering.

                “Hang in there, Martha,” said Amanda.  “I want this to be a thorough job.  Are you both ready?”

                Neither spoke up.

                “Good,” nodded Amanda, somehow satisfied.  “I need you each to dry me off down there.  Well.  And whichever one of you gets your side the cleanest gets the easy job in our next exercise.  Make sense?”

                Martha gulped, quivering, knowing they were going to have to do it one way or another.  Gathering the strength, she looked up toward the billowing, tangled locks of Amanda’s black hair far above.  “H-How?”

                Amanda turned back to them, looking down over her shoulder, and smiled warmly.  “With your little faces, of course, Martha, and nothing else, or you’ll start over again.  And you two are going to look so adorable doing it together, believe me… if I could take a picture of it, I would, but as you can see, I’m sort of integral…” she giggled.

                “Martha…” choked Jason, disgusted beyond belief, the air muggy with the smell of sweat and grime emanating off of Amanda’s bare ass.  “Listen to…”

                “NO TALKING!” boomed Amanda with sudden sternness, slamming her palm back on the table, sending a shockwave through to the hapless couple.  “In a real marriage, each person can tell what the other wants, and what they need.  Do that now.”

                Jason readied himself as best he could, as if about to stand in front of the firing squad.  He shut his eyes, pinched his nose (as if that would help), closed his mind tightly, and inched closer to the ceaseless wall of thick, peachy skin.  A bottom that looked large enough to crush a building underneath it if Amanda happened to take a seat on one.  Shaking so hard he could barely concentrate, Jason stuck out his tongue and pressed it against the foul, sour skin, commencing to lick off the damp results of Amanda’s workout.  Martha didn’t budge.

                “This doesn’t excuse you from participating, Martha,” came the soft instruction of the feminine titan.  “Join your husband now, or neither of you gets the prize.”

                Martha, jolted out of her stupor, staggered forward, and threw herself right into it, opening her mouth and taking a taste.  Immediately she began to wretch, having a much weaker stomach than Jason, but after a few more soft taps of her tongue tip, she managed to, with some difficulty, take long, sweeping licks, barely covering any of the immense real estate of butt flesh that stretched upward, seemingly into the heavens of Amanda’s apartment.  Her eyes watered as the ghastly, filthy flavors raped her mouth.  The dark, almost gaping crack separated the naked, convulsing couple as they continued licking with eyes clenched shut, throats gagging continuously in protest as the slime settling into Amanda’s skin made its way into their digestive tracts.

                “Keep it up, you two,” sighed Amanda, closing her eyes to better enjoy the feeling of the two pin-sized tongues tickling her weary, cramped ass.  As the sensation was so tingly and light, Amanda couldn’t help but jiggle her cheeks in reaction, getting goose bumps all the while.  This slammed each cheek hard against both Jason and Martha’s sticky faces, knocking them each down.  “Sorry about that, your tiny tongues are just…” moaned Amanda, relishing the very thought of it, but she quickly snapped back.  “Get back on.  Now.”

                Jason opened his mouth back up, his tongue soggier than ever with filth, but as he placed his tongue back on Amanda’s skin, a shining orb of a sweat drop came slipping down her wet flesh, dropping right toward Jason’s head.  As he was staring straight at the warm wall of ass, even brushing his nose against it uncomfortably a few times as he licked the perspiration away, he didn’t realize it was coming until the droplet was splashing against his hair and trickling into his eyes.  Horrified, Jason stepped back, blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyelids, but he only managed to pull some of it out.  It stung profusely, as if it had leaked all the way around his eyes and into his skull; this was the image Jason had, at least, as he returned to his work, his eyes watering, his hands shaking more violently than before.

                Martha, her tongue going dry from the effort, finally had to lean off to the side, wretch a few times, and throw up.  She stayed there a few seconds, hacking up the last of it, when a thumb thicker than her body came flying at her, flicking.  Martha was flung backward a few inches, body slamming into the thick, story-tall butt cheek.  She could feel it ripple slightly across every inch of her bare body as the firm skin repelled her immediately back onto the tabletop, where she fell on her bandaged wound and screeched with pain.  Helpfully, Amanda’s fingertips quickly pinched back around Martha’s head like a ragdoll, dragging her back to her feet.  Then, bracing Martha’s weeping face, she jammed it roughly into the soft, sweaty surface, pressing so hard an indent was beginning to appear in the malleable ass skin.

Jason, meanwhile, continued his work, coughing heavily in the fog of sticky, pestilential transudation that seemed to be flooding every orifice of his body.  He could practically feel his stomach gurgling with agitation as cups upon cups of Amanda’s salty bottom sweat droplets slid down his esophagus and into his body fully.

                “Let me feel it, lovebirds,” cooed Amanda, her fingertips tingling with glee as she released the learned Martha from her grip.  “You’re doing an amazing job...”

Jason and Martha both lay collapsed on the tabletop, panting heavily out of their dry mouths, both feeling more violated than they ever had or had ever believed they might have been in their lives.  Their throats burned hotly, and their cheeks stung, partially from the salt, and partially from the mind-numbing, ball-busting horror of what they had just done.  Jason coughed heavily, wondering that if he were to spit for the rest of his life, if he would ever get the taste and sensation out of his throat.  He doubted it.

He reviewed it in his mind, still unable to process it: in order to save his own life, he had just taken into his body what felt like a half gallon of stinging sweat trickling down the pale, bare ass of Amanda, who had just finished a tremendous and overwrought workout.  Filthy, dirty, salt-filled, grimy sweat-slime dribbled continuously down her damp skin. He hacked, rubbing at his pained throat, his eyes watering.  He felt himself actually begin to breathe more heavily as he massaged his throat without effect.  Jason shut his eyes tightly, feeling like his body had become a sewage plant.  No amount of cleaning or gargling would ever change the fact that he had just forced into his body, directly from the source, mouthful after slimy mouthful of sweat from the butt cheek of a total stranger.  To Jason, it was the mental equivalent of swallowing a tarantula whole: feeling it clambering around his esophagus, and yet being completely unable to force it back up.  Having to exist with the feeling that it was in there, part of him, and he could do nothing about it.

To Jason, there was no discernible difference here.

                He looked over to Martha, and saw her breathing heavily.  Not only was her back still in pain, but Jason knew this effect must have been doubly hard on the admittedly germaphobic Martha, who despised uncleanliness and had been known to send dishes back at restaurants for finding a charred crisp ball on the plate if she was eating something grilled.  Finding a hair in her food, and Martha would have left the restaurant and, as Jason liked to joke, probably start a committee to get the place shut down.  He could only imagine what this had been like for her.

                Amanda towered over them once again, standing up, her back to them.  Raising both hands, she slapped them against her supple butt cheeks, allowing the firm things to jiggle slightly, the cracking sound of the slap echoing through the cavernous apartment, and Jason’s tiny, sensitive eardrums.  She dug her fingertips against her pale ass flesh, clenching her palms flat against them.  She then splayed her fingers, sliding her palm all over her naked butt, avoiding the crack, keeping each hand on its respective cheek.  She pointed her finger, slipping it along the slick, well-licked skin surface, like a horizontal ice skater on the slippery plain of Amanda’s bottom.  Then, with a final slap and clench of her fingers, Amanda released her hands from her butt and took a step forward.  She leaned over, and as she came back into view, Jason realized she had stepped back into her panties and shorts and was yanking them back up over her exposed lower body.

                Amanda turned back to the two captives and grasped at a kitchen chair, pulling it over and taking a seat.  She stared at them, though, unblinking, as she did this, a smile still plastered across her face like the twisted expression of a circus clown.  Gleeful.  Yet cold, somehow.  Distant.  Jason felt shivers run down his spine each time the gigantic woman flashed her teeth in what she probably perceived as a show of good will.

                “I’m very impressed, my little lovers.  I could… feel… you so much there, and it wasn’t just your little…” she said with a giggle, clearly over the moon with the concept, “…tongues on me, it was your… PASSION…” she sighed deeply, her eyes widening on this last word.  “And NOW… your reward… one of you has won the easy job, and the other one of you…” she said, her eyes darting between the two people to try and create some artificial suspicion.  “…one of you will have a slightly… harder… job.”

                “Oh G-G-G…” stuttered Martha, pulling herself to her feet at last, hardly able to speak as she gagged, still feeling the sickly spicy remnants of Amanda’s ass sweat on her tongue and teeth.  “I c-can’t believe we j-just…”

                “Shhh…” soothed Amanda, placing a finger over her own lips.  “Hush, little Martha.  It’s all right now.  It’s over.  You made it through, and you did a GREAT job,” she said assuredly, smiling gaily.  Jason shivered again.  The way Amanda spoke reminded him of some twisted, surreal infomercial.  Her voice was so calming and cheery, and even soothing, and yet her intentions were so cruel and violent he couldn’t even fathom connecting the two, mentally.  Her words were confident, swift, practiced.  Almost rehearsed.

                “Oh, G-God, PLEASE!” screamed Martha, uncorking her feelings.  “You h-have to let us GO!”

                Amanda just tsked at her, waggling a disapproving finger.  “Now, now, my little wifey, don’t cry… you haven’t heard and seen everything you need to yet… don’t worry, all of this will be over soon.”

                “P-Please… please… please…” sobbed Martha more quietly now, not even directly speaking to the monumental woman anymore, but more just to existence itself.

                “NOW… I’m sure you’re both wondering who won…” smiled Amanda.  “It was pretty clear to me, anyway.  One of my cheeks felt almost bone dry,” she said with a smile, loving this fact.  “The other… well, I could still feel a few drops.  We don’t want that,” she said with a sticky-sweet smile and giggle, completely covering up her dislike.  “Jason… congratulations, you got up much more than your wife.  YOU get the easy job…” she smiled, reaching her hand down toward him and extending her soft fingers again.

                “NO!  WAIT!” screamed Jason, terrified now.  He had deliberately gone a bit slower when he knew, if his life depended on it, he could have beaten Martha easily in Amanda’s horrific twist on a drinking game.  All he wanted was to keep Martha safe, or at least as safe as possible.  He wasn’t entirely sure why this was, when she had already allowed him to be beaten mercilessly in Amanda’s fist just because she was completely clueless to the simple facts about her husband.  Still, he had been determined, but had also been scared by Amanda’s warning that both husband and wife would be punished severely if she didn’t feel them working intensely with their tongues to clean the sweat off.  And now, it seemed he had gone too far.

                “Wait for what?” smiled Amanda kindly as she ignored Jason’s request, wrapping her fingers around his flailing body and lifting him up with the effort of a baby hamster.  “Don’t be upset with me, Jason.  You both had the same chance.  I gave you the option.  I told you: marriage is all about choices, and making the right one for your partner, even if it’s not the best for you.  And I guess that’s just what you did here.”

                “No!  No, please, just… just let me switch with her.”

                “I don’t think I can do that, Jason.”

                “PLEASE!  L-Look… you said make choices.  I’m making one now!  Switch us!”

                “Ahhh… ta-ta-ta!” cooed Amanda playfully, bringing Jason to a stop at eye level, gripping him more tightly and warming his body with her muscular fingers.  “The game’s over.  Now, it’s time for everyone to get their prize.  You get the easy job.  Be happy,” she winked.

                “No…” groaned Jason, looking down at his horrified wife, who was glaring up at him.  He looked as remorseful as he could, but it didn’t seem to help matters, and plus, he was so high up, it was harder to judge Martha’s facial expressions any longer.  Helpless, Jason listened to Amanda as she went through her normal routine of taking a deep breath to get attention before saying what she probably saw as vitally important.

                “Martha?  Your husband left you in the dust a little bit there, didn’t he?” she asked, receiving no answer from the frozen little naked wife.  “That’s okay, though.  Now, I’m going to let you turn the tables a little bit.  Now… you get to make the choices…” grinned Amanda leaning forward.  Martha watched, shaking, as Amanda’s fingers played with the latch of a toolbox that was sitting on the far edge of the table, nearest the wall.  She clicked the latches both ways and opened the box, dragging it forward as the lid dropped to the back.  Martha couldn’t see it, but from Jason’s vantage point, he was able to make out the contents of the box.  He couldn’t see everything, as it was stacked pretty close together, but what he could make out make him raise an eyebrow.  A pin cushion.  A portable glue gun.  A tiny plastic jar of Play-Doh.  A pocket knife.  A pair of scissors.  It didn’t make any sense to Jason, but he didn’t feel particularly like trying to decipher it, for the sake of his own psyche.

                Martha soon found out as well, though, as Amanda grasped the edge of the toolbox and tipped it, allowing most of the contents to spill outward and toward the tiny woman, who just barely managed to clamber out of the way before being engulfed by the avalanche of junk.  Amanda calmly began rooting through it, pushing aside larger pieces so that everything was revealed on the table.  She then retracted her hand, and gave the befuddled Martha a look of serenity and assuming.

                “Go ahead, Martha,” said Amanda sweetly.  “Pick one out.”

                “How do I… what am I supposed to…”

                “Just pick one.  You’ll see,” smiled Amanda, nodding and waving her hand for Martha to get to work.  Martha began wandering between the items, most of which  completely dwarfed her body.  Finally, she found a small rubber band, with a circumference of only a couple of inches when not stretched.  Not having any clue of what was going on or what she was supposed to be picking, Martha pointed uncertainly to the rubber band.  Amanda nodded, then lowered her hand toward it, pinching it between two fingers as Martha dodged to the side, afraid of being scooped up again.  Tangling the band across her fingernails, Amanda stretched the band as far as she could between her fingers, forming a crude circle as she brought it nearer and nearer to Jason.  Then, stopping in front of him, she bent her thumb back against it, stretching it, and released it.

                The band smacked against Jason’s face, hitting him squarely on the nose.  It was painless for a few strange moments, before the stinging all hit at once, Jason’s nose feeling like it had been stabbed.  He grasped it, gasping for breath.  Jason wasn’t given much time to recover, though, before Amanda’s powerful thumb was stretching the band back again threateningly.

                “Don’t do that!” screeched Martha as the band was slapped hard back against Jason’s face.  He blinked, disoriented, and shook his head a few times to try and right himself.  The stinging was emanating through his entire face.  Amanda gave his body a light squeeze with her fingers as he remained in her overly capable fist, particularly on his genitals, and he felt a slight feeling of tingling as his dick was compressed into the cool flesh of Amanda’s fingers.  It almost felt good.

                Amanda plopped the rubber band back into the toolbox, clearly removing it from Martha’s use again.  “Good choice, Martha.  Pick another one now.”

                “Why did you DO that?” shrieked the panicking wife, scurrying around amongst the objects like a terrified mouse.  “You just told me to pick something!”

                “That’s right, Martha.  And now I’m telling you to pick something else.”

                “But… but…” cried Martha, the tears flowing heavily.  “You’ll just hurt him again, no matter what I choose…”

                “Then I SUGGEST,” began Amanda with emphasis, “you choose wisely.”

                At this, Martha fell to her knees, weeping, holding her face.  She could barely contain herself as she realized what her particular punishment was.  Amanda looked over at the dizzy Jason still in her warm, intrusive fist as it continued rippling suggestively over his beaten crotch, raising an eyebrow.  “See why you have the easy job, Jason?” she smirked knowingly.  Jason didn’t respond, partially out of fear and partially out of sheer disorientation.  “Come on now, Martha.  Pick something else out, or I’ll just have to… decide for myself,” informed Amanda, laying her hand back on the table and thumbing through the objects, before stopping right over a thick, partially rusted nail.  She pinched it in her fingers and lifted it up slowly.

                “NOT THAT!  I… I… I’ll p-pick something!” screamed Martha, getting to work immediately; Amanda nodded and chuckled, dropping the metal nail back on the table.  Martha scrambled through the pile, nervously looking up at Amanda, afraid that she would run out of time and have a particularly fatal object chosen for her.  Finally, with a gulp, she stopped at the Play-Doh jar and pointed hesitantly, clutching her soaked cheeks again as she shook.  It was the best she could find amidst a pile of objects that could very easily slice and dice the vital organs out of someone Jason’s size.

                “Thank you, Martha,” said Amanda, popping the lid off with her thumb and bunching the blue moldable mash into her fingers.  She jammed her thumb all the way through, smearing her thumbprint across it and softening the interior from its previously hardened state in the jar.  Then, flattening it against the heel of her hand, she spread it across her fingers and brought it toward Jason.  With a quick gasp that filled his lungs as much as possible, Jason found himself buried in the pancake of children’s clay that was quickly folded around the back of his body as Amanda’s burly fingers balled him up into the clay, spreading it thinly until it covered nearly every square inch of his naked body.  As the blue, glue-scented substance began to thicken against his face, and his air began to run low, Jason opened his mouth and chewed quickly through the thin layer of Play-Doh that covered his mouth, spitting the foul-tasting crumb out into the depths of space far below him.  Finally able to breathe through the tiny hole, Jason cringed against the thick, encasing wall of thick goop as Amanda began squeezing his body, kneading the bumpy stuff into his skin so hard it actually began to produce warmth.  At first comforting to his chilled nude self, Jason soon felt Amanda’s hard fingertips actually producing enough friction through the clay that his skin began to feel hot.  Then it started to hurt.

                Jason grunted loudly through the opening, gasping in fresh air, then felt his mind reel wildly as Amanda pressed a lump of Play-Doh against his crotch so hard he was almost sure as it happened she would render him unable to reproduce.  Raw stinging began to emanate along his thighs, and he cringed, kicking his clay-covered heels against Amanda’s palm, but quickly found these pinned down by her capable fingers.  As he grunted again, he was heard, and Amanda happily smoothed a fresh, thicker layer of clay over his mouth before continuing to rub the stuff so thickly into Jason’s body that bruises started forming all along his chest and limbs.

                Satisfied at last with this round, Amanda began peeling the blue sarcophagus of goop away from Jason’s body.  His bruised body flopped against her fingers, quivering.  He ran his hands cautiously over his legs, trying to massage them as they cramped, but this quickly threw him into deeper agony as he touched a few more sensitive areas, so he quickly retracted.  This plan was thrown off, though, as Amanda helpfully obliged his original idea and began to knead his abs with her curled middle finger, sending him into a series of painful convulsions that she helped keep in check by pinning him down.

                Martha, horrified by this sight, stumbled backward and tripped on a white plastic handle.

                “Excellent choice, Martha,” smiled Amanda gleefully, reaching down toward the object.

                “What…” mumbled Martha, turning around to find that she had made contact with the glue gun.  “STOP!  I didn’t choose THIS!”

                “I beg to differ, Martha.  Now, if you’ll just give me some room here…” continued Amanda, indifferent.  Martha stood her ground in front of the gun, but was easily thrown to the side as Amanda tossed the newly balled up Play-Doh ball onto her from a safe distance, allowing it to bowl over her like a striped pin.  With the powerless woman out of the way, Amanda grabbed up the gun in her hand, clicked it to the on switch, and tapped at the trigger a few times to warm up the device.

                Jason opened his eyes to find himself staring into the gigantic, orange-pointed barrel of the glue gun poised directly over his body.  Out of instinct, he gripped at the soft skin bed he was laid across in Amanda’s palm, his eyes darting from side to side.  He stared deeply into Amanda’s pupils, searching for a sign.  Anything.  That it was a joke.  A hoax.  Something.

                Nothing.

                Amanda, without any more hesitation, squeezed the trigger lightly on the glue gun, burying Jason under a steaming pile of scalding, translucent glue that instantly began to harden around his stomach and legs.  She moved it all over, drizzling his entire body in so much hot glue that it covered his entire upper body, legs, and even part of his arms, gluing him right onto her hand.

                Jason screamed.

“Jaaaasoooon…” came the gentle croon of Amanda’s voice right by Jason’s ear; she whispered in such a low voice, though, that the volume was only similar to that of a speaker’s rumbling, which allowed Jason to drift back into consciousness.  As soon as he did, though, he found himself stiffly in place again, his arms and legs pinned down tightly under a thick, immovable clay-like layer of dried hot glue.  He was still glued firmly onto Amanda’s open palm, spread-eagled.  He looked down his body, shivering from the pain of rubbing his raw, burned skin against the encrusted layer of glue, and looked down along himself.  He was able to lift his head, but nothing else; the only thing that, oddly, was poking out into fresh air, free of the glue layer, was his member.  Jason was glad that Amanda at least had the heart to not leave his genitals under the oppressively painful heated layers of glue.  He grunted, trying one final time to break through the thick sarcophagus of translucent dried glue, but it only hurt his burning limbs more, so he quickly stopped, resting his back against Amanda’s cool palm skin.

                “Shhh… Shhh… don’t try to move now, Jason, or you’ll just hurt yourself,” whispered Amanda almost huskily.  The simple phrase gave Jason goosebumps, which was pretty embarrassing for him considering how much dread he had for this cruel titan of a woman by this point.  Looking on, he watched her stroke a long pinky finger along his glue-covered upper body a few times before turning her flattened palm closer to her face, so they could both get a better look at one another.  “Jason, I’ve got a question for you now…”

                “Huh?”

                Amanda giggled.  “Take all the time you need, it’s all right.  Just tell me, now… do you feel like you understand now what it is to be a married couple?”

                Hearing this chance, Jason wanted to lunge forward enthusiastically, but then he remembered how stuck he was to Amanda’s hand, so he instead took a few deep breaths, his head swimming violently.  “YES!  Oh, please, believe me, YES!”

                Amanda’s slender eyebrow raised slowly.  “Oh?”

                “YES!  I… I… I haven’t f-felt this, um…” gasped Jason, swallowing hard, “…CLOSE to Martha s-since we got m-married…”

                Amanda nodded, seeming to approve.  “I don’t doubt that at all, Jason,” she smiled appreciatively.

                Jason gulped, his heart fluttering.  So far, so good.  “P-Please… w-we won’t t-tell anyone…”

                At this, Amanda threw her head back and laughed loudly, her eyes watering slightly.  It was almost like an extended cackle, reminding Jason of some old time fantasy film villain from his childhood, and it was terrifyingly out of character for Amanda’s normal cover-up of being sweet and gentle.  Of course, Jason had a feeling the real “Amanda” was much more like this than how she appeared.

                Amanda used a finger to dry her eye, still chuckling, then looked at Jason disbelievingly, moving the hand holding him closer to her eyes.  “REALLY.  NO one.  You won’t tell ANYONE about me?”

                “N-NO!  Never!  W-We just w-want to…”

                “What, Jason?  What do you want?” cooed Amanda.

                “We just want to go HOME!” he cried out, his voice cracking, but he swallowed hard again, barely managing to maintain his composure.  Jason stiffened his upper lip.  He refused to allow himself to cry.  It was not going to happen.

                Amanda simply nodded again.  “Okay.  That’s all right with me,” she shrugged.  “All you have to do is pass my little… exit exam.  That okay with you?”

                All Jason could do was nod in the affirmative.  He had a strong feeling saying “no” wasn’t a viable option, anyway.

                “Good, little Jason…” she smirked warmly.  “I’ve just got a question for you then…”

                “What?”

                “Have you been faithful to your wife?”

                Jason gulped again, looking down at the tabletop at Martha, who was listening intently, exhausted and leaning against a hammer that was still laid out from the spilled toolbox.  Her stare was blank, as she didn’t want to intimidate Jason at all while he was in such a precarious position, but even from so far away, Jason could make out his wife’s limbs shivering, and not just from pain; she was more afraid for him than he was for himself at this point.  It was so odd to Jason, but as he stared down at Martha, he realized he didn’t just want to help defend her life if he could (as he would have wanted to with any person forced into this situation), but he actually wanted to be back down there with her.  Near her.  He couldn’t explain it at all, but it was true.  He cocked his head down at her, his lip quivering, then turned back to the patiently waiting room-sized face of Amanda.

                “Yes, I have,” he said dryly, his skin feeling cold, awash with the conflicting emotions running through his mind.  “I’ve been faithful.”  It was indeed true, and it came so plainly and clearly to Jason, he didn’t even feel the impulse to stutter with terror as he said it.

                “So… what you’re telling then, Jason, is… you’ve never had sexual relations with another woman?” asked Amanda, placing her pinky back on the glue crust covering Jason’s stomach.

                “Never.”

                “Never… KISSED another woman?”

                “No.”
                “Laid a HAND on another woman in any way that wasn’t meant platonically?” continued Amanda, slowly stroking the finger in circles around Jason’s chest.

                “I haven’t.”

                “Had… a THOUGHT about something… another woman, naked, with you…”

                “What?  I…” gasped Jason, finding this to be getting very specific, until he felt a tingling sensation in his lower body.  He had been so focused on keeping unblinking eye contact with Amanda that he hadn’t realized her finger had traveled down to his unglued member, and was beginning to smooth along it with incredible dexterity and gentleness.  Despite the hugeness and bulkiness of her finger, Amanda’s touch wasn’t painful, or even cumbersome.  It was… soft, and pleasant, and with a stomach-turning tingle, Jason actually felt his dick reacting.  Slowly at first: just a rushing feeling of goodness along his limbs, and then, he felt it beginning to stiffen.  His eyes darted back to Amanda’s face, which was locked down, staring wide-eyed, trained on Jason’s steadily growing erection.  Finally, as Jason’s dick grew to full length, his body twitching with the effort, Amanda ceased stroking along Jason’s dick, raising her digit back up and holding it above him, pointed.

                “Are you… sure about that answer?” she said with a huge smile, but Jason could detect traces of contempt and coldness behind it.  Like she was disgusted with him.  He nodded readily.

                “T-That’s not FAIR!  That’s just a REACTION, I have NO control over…”

                Before Jason could finish, though, Amanda’s hand was going back toward the table, toward Martha.  Bending her middle finger back against her thumb for leverage, Amanda flicked outward into Martha’s naked, sore body.  She struck her hard in the chest, sending her flying back several inches, where she crashed uncomfortably against the rolled up Play-Doh ball.  Her eyes shifted slowly back to Jason’s helpless body, his chin quivering.  He couldn’t even say anything.  Slowly, after being left alone for a few seconds, his member began shrinking again.

                “A marriage is only held together when both husband and wife are there… physically, and mentally.  And… I don’t think you’re there mentally yet, Jason.”

                “Please…” croaked Jason, an emotional wreck.  “T-That doesn’t mean anything.  A… A… b-bodily function, t-that’s all it is…”

                At this, Amanda nodded, smirking.  “I suppose you’re right.  You men.  You all are just like wild animals, you can’t control yourself at all.  I lay a finger on you and you just blow up your dinky little penis like a tiny pimp.  But that’s all right.  I’m inclined to be reasonable with you, Jason.”  With this, Amanda reached her free hand down to the base of her sweat-soaked shirt and began lifting it upward, peeling it off the miles of her warm skin leading up her firm stomach until she pulled it past her sports bra and up to her shoulders, where she tucked the corners into her armpits, allowing her to keep it hitched up.  She lowered Jason, keeping his face level with her bra.  Then, with the same hand, she calmly reached behind herself to her shoulder blades, pinching at the sports bra clasp, and unhooked it, allowing the damp bra to fall down to her body to the floor, leaving her completely topless before Jason.

                Jason quivered, completely overtaken by the wide sight before him.  Amanda’s pale breasts, like hot air balloons, swaying with such slight movements that only someone his size would be able to make it out.  As the cool air rushed over her skin, he saw tiny goose bumps beginning to form along her skin like tiny lapping ripples on an ocean of peachy flesh.  Slowly, her flattened, tanned nipples began to grow, pressing outward and becoming a slightly darker shade as they, too, reacted to the cold.  With them both fully erected, Amanda leaned her head back, looking toward the ceiling, and sighed.  She moved Jason closer to her left breast, placing his face so close to her hardened nipple he could have reached out and touched it if his arms didn’t happen to be super glued to Amanda’s warm palm.

                Jason bit his tongue, mesmerized for a few instants as his eyes were brought terrifying detail of Amanda’s erotically stiffened nipple tip.  Then, remembering himself, he closed his eyes, continuing to keep his teeth clenched together.

                “Open your eyes, Jason, and look at it.  I’m not asking you to touch me.  Just look at it,” ordered Amanda.  Jason didn’t obey at first until he heard Martha’s weak cry from below, so he quickly snapped them open, looking down to the table, and saw Martha pinned down against the hardwood tabletop by Amanda’s powerful, probing thumb, bent back for added pressure.  She was jamming it down onto Martha’s shoulder blades, right above her nail cut wound.

                Shuddering, Jason bit his tongue again and looked back into the slightly grooved areola, perfectly smooth.  He shook his head, trying to deny what he was seeing, but he couldn’t.  Amanda’s breasts were, admittedly, incredible, almost perfect.  At his size, Jason could barely distinguish any blemishes, something that normally would have been horribly apparent at the size of a small doll.  He gulped hard.  Don’t think about it… Don’t think about it… Don’t think about it…

                Jason’s member slowly began rising again.  Jason bit his tongue hard, wincing from the pain and tasting blood.  He had to keep his mind off of it.  He wasn’t being touched.  This was purely mental.  Jason swallowed the drops of blood painfully, focusing on that rather than what his unfortunate and traitorous eyes were seeing.  Ignore it… Ignore it…

                Too late already.  Within a few more seconds, Jason’s steadily cold-sweating body was beyond his control, his dick fully erect, unable to help itself at the amazing close-up peep show it was receiving from Amanda’s twin goddess wells.  And then, he felt the intrusive hand that he was glued to moving back upward, away from the breasts as Amanda lifted her armpits, allowing the clenched, sweaty shirt to drop back over herself a bit more modestly.  He found himself face-to-face with her, a feat that soon became only technical as Amanda zoomed in closer to his body, so closer that one of her eyelashes began tickling his face as she examined his hard dick.  She blinked, brushing her soft eyelashes past his member, and it wiggled slightly at the touch.  A grin spread across her face.

                “Just… a reaction, Jason?” she mused sweetly.  She lowered his body lower down her face, past the long bridge of her smooth nose, which blew out calm, warm air onto his terrified body.  Soon, he found his face right underneath the opening to her nose.  He stared up into it at the shallow jungle of nose hair and damp, dark walls as more steady exhalations soothed his face.  Then, parting her soft lips directly over his fully erect dick, Amanda breathed in such a low, barely audible voice, yet with such fierceness, it gave Jason a fresh set of goose bumps.

                “You’ve been… unfaithful…” whispered Amanda before sliding her tongue out of her lips and tubing it messily around Jason’s penis, slobbering all over the rest of his glue-drenched body.  Unable to move, Jason watched helplessly as several dribbles of thick, foamy saliva trickled down his encrusted body toward his face, where they formed thickly around his cheeks, toughened slightly by traces of sputum.  He tried shaking them off of his face, but it was no use; within a few seconds, Jason could tell they weren’t going anywhere.  They were hot and heavy against his skin, smelling slightly of stale peppermint.  He began to gasp shallowly, then, as Amanda went to work on his hardened member with her tongue, even pressing her lips down against it and swallowing the comparatively microscopic organ up inside her mouth, sliding the very tip of her tongue up and down it so gently it might as well have been normal sized.  Within seconds, Jason exploded a load into Amanda’s mouth, although it was so small, it instantly got lost in the cushy cracks of Amanda’s lips.

                Jason wasn’t given a reprieve though.  As soon as he began panting heavily from the effort, Amanda took a soft breath through her mouth, blowing hot air over him, before setting her moist lips back down onto his body and sucking hungrily onto his dick with so much ferocity Jason feared she would yank it right off of his body.  Jason began to moan with pain and horror at the situation as he actually felt his member lifting back up again against his will.  Almost simultaneously, Jason heard Martha scream.

                Down on the table, Amanda had moved her thumb lower down on Martha’s body and was jamming it heavily into the band-aid covered wound so hard that Jason saw fresh blood soaking into the bandage.  Amanda’s finger writhed on top of the squirming, pinned Martha as it worked deeply against the wound.  All the while, Amanda kept her face’s attention firmly on her unwilling hand captive, suckling against his tack-sized penis that in almost no time at all, Jason had grown to full length and exploded again.

                Of course, this wasn’t rewarded with a break, either.  Instead, Amanda flattened her pink, muscular tongue against Jason’s legs and began swiping upward, lathering the encrusted glue in a layer of gooey slobber, even laying it down on his face, which she licked thickly for a few seconds before pulling away, leaving several strands of her spit dangling from Jason’s face and hair.  And finally, at long last, Jason began to tear up a little, his manhood almost literally stripped of him as Amanda’s tongue descended back on his helpless dick for a third round, her slimy muscle’s thrusts equal to that of an elephant on top of a mouse.  Jason grunted, grasping at Amanda’s palm skin for support underneath the glue and felt more tears rush down his face as Martha’s continued cries of anguish echoed gut-wrenchingly in his ears.

                Jason’s head was reeling wildly from Amanda’s hot, sticky tongue and the gallons upon gallons of saliva, acting as a lubricant on his exposed member, that allowed her to swoop her muscle along his body and continually force him to climax into the dark, wet depths of her mouth.  Eventually, Jason had resorted to biting down on his lips and tongue so hard that they both began to bleed.  Pain would help keep his mind off of things.  It worked at first, but even this wasn’t enough to keep the incredible sensation that Amanda’s mammoth tongue was forcing into his body.  He couldn’t help it.  He hated to admit it, but to be perfectly honest with himself, Jason knew he had never experienced sexual pleasure this intense ever before in his life. 

However, after about three rounds, even though he’d stopped being able to produce his microscopic seed to plop into the lake-like cavern of a gullet inside Amanda’s hungry jaws, Jason was getting pretty spent.  After the sixth round, which took slightly longer (although Amanda’s persistence managed to drag a dry climax out of him eventually), Jason’s vision was becoming blurrier, and he felt so light-headed he was pretty sure he was going to fall asleep soon from the exhaustion.  After a painful seventh round, Jason felt himself blackout from the sheer intensity, the last thing in his vision being Amanda’s pink tongue creeping back up his body and smudging goop all over his face wetly like a mother dog on its pup.

Jason quickly came to again, though, as he felt himself hitting the hard shag carpeted ground.  He obviously hadn’t been dropped from the table height, as it would have killed him instantly, but Jason had a feeling Amanda hadn’t made the effort to drop him from right next to the ground.  Wiping loose, freshly cracked dried glue from his arms, Jason turned around to find himself facing five long, almost finger-like toes, painted a threateningly gothic black along the nails.  The big toe lifted up, curling against the carpet, then slid forward, the entire foot dragging along with a shuffling noise against the material of the floor.  Jason pulled himself groggily up, losing more dry crumbles of old glue still attached to his body as he stumbled forward wearily; he didn’t get far, though, before the toe rammed into him, knocking him over against the hard surface of the nail.  He rolled over, aching a little, but at the same time feeling the lingering effects of the almost infinite euphoria. 

Another instant later, Martha plopped onto the carpet right next to Jason, still crying and shivering from the pain and the cold.  The blood seemed to have dried again, but enough had soaked into the band-aid that Jason knew his wife had to be feeling woozy.  And now, Jason couldn’t help but want to forgive his wife’s inability to know simple facts about him, when he had so horribly failed to look upon Amanda’s admittedly gorgeous body without reacting.  She was feeling just as much literal pain as he had felt at her earlier failure.  Probably more, realized Jason, as he looked upon her more closely while approaching her cautiously.

“Martha…” he whispered, his voice choked.  “I’m… I’m so sorry…”

“D-Don’t be… J-Jason…” she said, cringing as she pulled herself to her feet.  She almost fell again, but Jason was quick to throw out a shoulder for her to help support herself again.  “I… I’m s-sorry too…”

“Martha…”

“Jason?”

“Hellooooo, love birds!” called out the voice from far above as Amanda leaned over to get a better look at them, standing before her bare, polished toes on the carpet.  She wiggled them again, her big toe alone just as long as Jason’s body.  “I’m going to count to…” she said, chewing it over for a moment, biting her lip and looking up, before leaning down closer to them, “…TWO HUNDRED.  And when I get there, well… I’m going to come… and I’m going to find you.  And then we’ll play another game.  Together,” she said coolly, leaning against the table and crossing one foot over the other, arching her foot against the carpet, placing her heel at a towering height above the cowering couple.  Her wrinkled sole folded over itself a bit, looking a blushed red still from the pounding it took in her workout earlier, and Jason could easily distinguish dark red circles along the ball of her foot as big as his head.  Blisters.

“One…” cooed Amanda calmly and slowly, leaning her head playfully against her shoulder and pulling her eyes away from her two tiny playthings far below on the ground.  “Twooooo…”

                “Martha, come on!” said Jason firmly without sounding pushy, placing his other arm over Martha’s back to support her, and the pair began hobbling forward across the massive expanse of shag carpet, surrounded by table legs that stretched into the sky like temple pillars, the countertops like office buildings, the flower pots like oak trees.  Jason didn’t really have much of a plan; he just saw what looked like an opportunity to get away.  Amanda was insane beyond belief; that much was certain.  However, she was also (painfully) a woman of her word, and Jason had a strong feeling just as strong as the one that she would indeed engage in another game if she could catch them: she would count to two hundred before coming.  And that meant that if he made a real effort to find a hiding place with his wife until a real opportunity to get out of the apartment presented itself, he might redeem himself for the last of Amanda’s “games.”

                Exiting the kitchen with Martha and heading into what seemed like Amanda’s bedroom, Jason heard Amanda continuing to count with a mercifully slow pace as she hit the number thirty-eight.  Shivering, Jason knew that with how cocky she was about her position of power, she felt she could take all the time she wanted to count and still manage to find them.

                The sheets of the bed hung neatly downward like cascading spires of thick, quilted fabric, looking to Jason like an endless sequence of Oriental rugs stitched neatly together.  His eyes darted around the room desperately, looking for a hiding spot.  Shelves containing books, all ordered perfectly in bookends, sat dozens of stories above his head, far out of reach.  A vanity with a tall mirror was positioned against the wall.  There was plenty of legroom underneath it, making it impractical as a hiding place.  A walk-in closet was accessible through the far wall.  Ideal, but far away.  Jason looked at Martha, whose eyes were drooping a bit.

                “Martha?  Can you make it over there?” he asked, pointing to the door.  She winced a little, looked to it, then nodded slowly.  “Are you sure?”

                “Just… g-get us out of here, Jason,” she wheezed, hugging herself a little closer to his body.  In spite of the horrible situation, Jason felt oddly comforted by his estranged wife’s embrace, even though he knew it was mostly just so she could stand up easier.

                “All right,” he answered gravely, taking off for the door with new fortitude.  Listening carefully to the other room, Jason heard Amanda reach ninety-seven just as they passed the threshold of the closet.  The clothes hung like a jungle of dresses and pants all around them.  A high rack of a dozen or so truck-sized shoes was stored to the left.  Jason rubbed his temple feverishly, his breathing becoming heavier.  Never in his life had he had this much responsibility thrown into his lap.  Not only was he now obligated to protect his own life and that of his wife, but their lives were actually being actively threatened without ceasing, and there was no clear escape.  It wasn’t like being mugged, or held up, where he could simply surrender and almost guarantee his safety.  Surrendering was actually worse than fighting back in this case, and now Jason was faced with a miniscule opportunity for escape.  He would never forgive himself if he failed now.

                Jason’s eyes caught on the base of a wooden hamper, which seemed to have a tiny crawlspace underneath between the base and the carpet.  It looked just tall enough for himself and Martha to get underneath on their stomachs.  Indicating gently to his wounded wife to move toward it, Jason stopped in front of it, gulping and helping Martha into a crouching position.

                “Jason…”

                “I know, but it’s the best place to go… I think…” mumbled Jason guiltily.

                “Help me,” Martha asked, lowering herself onto her stomach and scooching forward with Jason’s assistance.  With Martha safely in the hiding place, Jason made his move as well, joining her underneath.

                They crawled as far into the middle as they could go, encased completely in darkness.  The wooden base of the hamper didn’t leave any wiggle room at all, forcing the pair to plant their faces against the carpet, which led to the extensive number of dust balls rolling around underneath getting caught in their faces and hair.  Jason kept his eyes trained on the crack of light leading into Amanda’s bedroom, unable to hear the colossal captor’s active count any longer.

                “Jason…”

                “Yeah?” he asked, distracted still with keeping watch over the opening.

                “We… I… I think we need to talk about…”

                “We’ll get there when we get there, Martha; I’m not sure what we’re going to do next.  We just… have to camp here for a little while.”

                “That’s not what I mean…”

                “What, then?” asked Jason, on edge.

                “I want to talk about us.”

                Jason looked in her general direction, even though the darkness was obscuring him from seeing her face clearly, disbelieving.

                “Us?  Here?  Now?”

                “Yes,” she said softly, sounding resolute.  “I want to talk about us now.”

                “Martha, we’re… I mean, look at us.  We’re hiding.  We… We might not be safe for much longer,” stumbled Jason, unable to bring himself to point out the obvious fact that he and his wife could very well be dead soon.

                “Exactly,” said Martha.

                At this point, Jason understood, and crawled a few millimeters closer to his wife to hear her whispers better.  “Oh… um, okay.”

                “I…” began Martha, unsure exactly of what to say.

                “Martha, we’re…”

                “No, Jason, let me talk.  I… I j-just want to make sure we’re okay with… one another… I mean, just in case we…” she stuttered, equally unable to admit the possibility of their fates.

                Jason sighed.  “I know.  I do too.  I just… you can’t understand how it’s been for me.  I’ve never been able to handle anything like this, I… I just feel like I…”

                “Then MAKE me understand!” begged Martha, touching his shoulder.

                “I’ve… never heard much from you about… about our way of life.  I don’t mean I wanted thanks.  I just… never felt like I had provided enough for you.  Like it wasn’t enough.  I…”

                “Jason, I never wanted you to think that, I j-just…”

                “What?”

                “You’re out there.  Everyday.  I know you told me that you wanted to provide for me, and didn’t want me to have to work, but… I w-want to.”

                Jason wrinkled his forehead, ruffling his saliva-sticky hair.  “Martha…”

                “When I was in college, I used to have… all these dreams.  Things I wanted to do, you know?  I wanted to… I wanted to start my own company, maybe.  I don’t know.  Something.  And then, after we got married, all of that just… well, it had to go away…”

                This time, Jason laid a hand on his wife’s cold shoulder.  “Martha, I would never have wanted you to do all that…”

                “I know you didn’t, but that’s just what happened.  I don’t think either of us wanted to do anything about it.”

                “It wasn’t that Martha, it was just, we… well… we just never…”

                “Talked,” finished Martha, and Jason nodded silently in the dark.  At this, he actually had to suppress a chuckle.  Even though he was currently hiding under a dusty clothes hamper, his life in more danger than it had ever been before in his life, he was actually feeling the odd feeling coming back, stronger than before.  It was something that felt so foreign, and yet familiar, like a childhood memory.  But it wasn’t that old, he realized now as he slipped comfortably back into it like a good, worn-out high school jersey.  It wasn’t what he had been expecting or even able to predict, but it was here.  Something that hadn’t been there since shortly after he had been married.

                “I love you, Martha,” he stated simply, closing his eyes in the dark.  Silence hung for a minute.

                “What did you say?”

                “I said I love you, Martha,” he repeated in the same tone.  “I… I guess I just…”

                “Forgot,” she answered in an understanding voice.  “Me too.”

                “Really?” he asked, with growing hope.  She moved her face closer to his, so he could hear his lowest whisper.  She sniffled lightly, coughing as she inhaled a few more dust particles.

                “Yes.”

                For a few moments, Jason and Martha simply breathed in and out, listening to one another.  Jason was, shockingly to himself, content.  Completely content.  He grabbed Martha’s cheeks gently and pulled her in, quickly pecking her on the lips.  He pulled away, giving her space, but Martha didn’t allow this, grasping a little more roughly at Jason’s head and yanking him closer, giving him the most passionate kiss either of them had experienced in the last year.

                The moment was split up with a gleeful, girly shout from far off: “TWO HUNDRED!”

                “Martha… don’t make a…” whispered Jason, holding his wife tightly as they felt the slight vibrations of Amanda’s feet slamming down on the carpet in the room adjacent to them.

                “Jason…” cried Martha, her voice cracking, as she hugged him back.

                “Don’t talk,” he whispered back.  “Don’t.”

                “Where are you two?” called out Amanda kindly, loudly enough that she was easily heard.  “Come on out… I promise, I’ll make you both so, so happy…”

                “I’ll bet...” hissed Jason so quietly, only he could hear it.

                “Jason… what’s that?” asked Martha in an equally quiet voice, ignoring her husband, hearing a plastic clicking sound from the other room.

                “I don’t know.”

                “Really.  I’m going to find you.  But I’ll tell you what: come out RIGHT NOW…” called out Amanda with a cute little giggle.  “…and I’ll go easier on you next.  Stay where you are, make me look for you, and… well… I won’t go easier.  You have until the count of three.  ONE.”

                “Jason?” gasped Martha.  “W-What are we supposed to…”

                “TWO.”

                “Don’t worry, Martha.  She can’t find us.  She…”

                “THREE.  Time’s up!  Ready or not…” sang Amanda, and the clicking sound came again.  A gentle hum hung in the air, coming from the same direction as Amanda’s melodious voice.

                “J-Jason…”

                “Shh…” he answered, covering Martha’s mouth gently.  They waited a few more moments breathlessly, staring out at the crack of light coming under the hamper, their hearts frozen in their chests, before feeling the carpet dip ever so slightly with the approaching weight of Amanda’s bare feet applying pressure to the ground.  A shadow fell over the crack of light.  The ground shook again, and suddenly Jason found himself staring into Amanda’s eye at the entrance.

                “Told you I’d find you…” she said, sliding her hand in slowly, barely squeezing it in under the hamper.  Her fingers neared them, ruffling the shallow sprigs of the shag carpet, bulldozing through the hard fabric with her muscular fingers, blocking out the exit.

                “Martha, GET BACK!” cried Jason, pulled out of his state of shock, crawling backward awkwardly.   An instant later, though, his head was clasped between two of Amanda’s fingers in a scissor-like motion so tightly his temple started pounding as he was dragged helplessly back toward the shadow of Amanda’s immense body, the light cut off completely.  He could feel Martha’s hand brushing his own fingers weakly as they were slid out into the light, their bodies meeting cold air as they were rushed into the stratosphere of Amanda’s apartment, clasped warmly into gargantuan woman’s thick, confining palm flesh, her fingers closing around them like skin-tightened tree trunks.

                “Oh, God… h-h-how d-did…” cried Jason, the tears returning hopelessly.

                “Oh, believe me, Jason,” said Amanda, holding him so near to her mouth, he could smell the hot, slightly bacterial aroma of her breath washing over him in a heavy haze.  “I’ve done this enough times to be able to find all the little vermin who run around in my house.  And besides… I’ve got a motion detector,” she added, her lips closing and curving into a sly grin.  She laughed.  “Now… sleep again, my little ones.  Sleep.”

                Jason and Martha shook so violently and were breathing so heavily that they went unconscious again with fear and exhaustion after being held for not much longer.  As they did, Amanda walked back to the cage to deposit them back inside, slowly sliding a finger between each of their legs and stroking it against each of their crotches softly before laying them back on the pile of woodchips in the hamster box.  As she did, she noticed their hands clasped together tightly still, and smiled to herself.

                When Jason came to again, he felt so groggy he doubted he could move, but it happened with surprisingly little effort as he stood up, albeit still awkwardly in his sides.  It took a moment to register, but as Jason took a step and nearly tripped, he realized his entire body was numbed.  He slammed his foot down on a woodchip, only feeling the faintest of sensations, although he couldn’t tell if this was just from the vibration.  He touched his face gently, shivering, unable to feel there either.  He breathed a sigh of relief.  For now, the pain was gone.

                Martha was already trying to stand up as Jason turned to help her up.  She smiled for the first real time since the ordeal had begun.  By the awkwardness of her first step, Jason had a feeling she could no longer feel anything as well, and that was enough for him to know she was out of the pain, particularly in the deep wound in her back.

                “Jason, what happened to…”

                “She numbed us,” answered Jason simply, striking himself lightly in the stomach just to make sure.

                “Jason, what if…”

                “What?”

                “What if she’s done with us, and…”

                At this thought, Jason’s face lit up.  “She said her point was to make us find one another again.  Do you think she…”

                Both went silent then, blushing heavily.  They recalled what had transpired under the hamper, and realized that they had, indeed, accomplished what Amanda had set out for them to do.  They locked eyes.  Their eye contact, powerful and earth-silencing, was shattered, though, as they heard the metallic rattle of the cage door opening quickly.  They barely had time to turn before Amanda was unceremoniously swiping them both back into the same hand, clasping them against one another.  As they were removed from their temporary abode, Jason was glad to be given the opportunity to pretend he could protect Martha at this size, and hugged her body to his own, receiving a similar treatment from his wife as they were clenched firmly between their captor’s totalitarian fingers.

                “How do you both… feel?” asked Amanda calmly, stepping into her kitchen nook and holding her pet married couple up to her eyes.  She clearly meant this ironically.

                “W-What did you d-do to…” stuttered the tiny wife.

                “It’s morphine, Martha, and plenty of it.  I will admit, getting the dosage right for someone your size is always pretty difficult, but it looks like I’ve succeeded this time,” she smiled encouragingly.  Far below, her other hand grasped at a drawer handle and pulled it open, ruffling through the contents, although Jason wasn’t in a position where he could see what.  “I’m so proud of both of you.”

                “Really?” asked Jason, trying not to get his hopes up, raising an eyebrow.

                “Oh, yes,” she said with a reassuring grin, nodding.  “I can sense it.  Your feelings for one another.  Your… REAL… feelings for one another.  They’re back, aren’t they?”

                Jason and Martha, face-to-face with one another since Amanda had them pressed conveniently together in her left hand, looked into one another’s eyes again, and smiled.  “Yes,” answered Martha almost dreamily, not breaking eye contact.  She felt giddy as a schoolgirl.

                “I thought so,” continued Amanda, closing the drawer with a loud fist pump.

                “D-Does this mean that…” panted Martha woozily.  “…you’ll let us g-go?”

                “Don’t worry, little Martha.  Do one last thing for me, and I promise you: all of this will end.”

                “Thank you… thank you…” breathed Jason incredulously.

                “Hold still, Jason,” said Amanda kindly, allowing Jason and Martha to slide into the center of her enormous, pale palm.  Bunching her fingers up around Jason, then, she raised him just above Martha’s head, allowing the puny woman to remain trembling and cold in the relative safety of her palm.  And finally, her other hand came into view, her thumb looped into a metal ring attached to another, larger ring, through which her middle and pointer fingers were also looped.

                Amanda was holding a pair of scissors.

                “What is t-that?” gasped Jason, squirming uselessly in Amanda’s grip.

                “This?  It’s my favorite tool, Jason.”

                “TOOL?” screeched Jason, sweating again.
                Amanda chuckled.  “Too adorable…” she whispered off-handedly before clearing her throat.  “Yes.  THIS…” she said, brandishing the scissors, snipping metallically at the air a few times for show.  “…is going to prove to me that you and your wife truly have learned your lesson.  That you truly are meant to be married.  Your last lesson.  Your last game.”

                “WHAT?” gasped Jason, huffing and puffing heavily.

                “Your love, Jason.  Love.  Because… after I’m through with you,” she said, bringing the scissors nearer to Jason’s body.  “…and Martha can still look at you just the same as she can now… then I’ll know it beyond a shadow of a doubt.  Smile, Jason.  You’re in this together.”

                Jason’s pupils dilated, his skin crawling cold.  Amanda lowered the opened scissors down toward him, fitting the ends over his left arm, which was pinned into an outstretched position by Amanda’s constricting fingertips.  He shivered, trying to process it in his mind as Amanda calmly brought the scissors closed just enough so that he could feel the cold metal touch on the top and bottom of his arm, opposite sides, right by his shoulder on the bicep.  He looked upward into Amanda’s eyes, his own tearing up, his lips quivering.

                “Please… no…” he whispered, hardly able to make a noise from shock.  “You c-can’t possibly mean you’re going to…”

                “Hold still, little one,” ordered Amanda, and without flinching, she snipped the scissors, cutting cleanly through Jason’s upper arm, severing it from his body.  Jason screamed so loudly his lungs felt like they would cave in.  Not from pain, as the numbing effect was still in full force, but from the violation.  He turned his head back to the gaping hole in his body, spurting blood into the grooves of Amanda’s huge fingertips, and held his jaw wide open, unable to make another noise, his eyes widened.  Amanda quickly supported the dead space, though, by jamming a fingertip against his shoulder to stop the bleeding as best she could, although it didn’t do much.

                “Good job Jason, good job,” said Amanda soothingly, as if she was a bedside nurse in a hospital during a procedural amputation.  “Other side now…”

                “NO!  PLEASE, GOD, STOP!” yelled Jason, his voice scratchy, prying with all his might against the grip of Amanda’s fingers.  He tugged so hard that he felt his shoulder pop out of the socket.  This didn’t do any good, though, as Amanda still had a firm hold on his hand.  Just as he turned his head back to his right side, he saw the guillotine-like set-up of Amanda’s kitchen scissors fitting over his other arm.  “DON’T… CUT…” screamed Jason as Amanda snipped his other arm off with a gentle sigh from deep in her throat, his words cut off by crying and shock.  His other arm flopped down into Amanda’s palm, showering his blood down onto his wife, who was screaming just as loudly as he was.

                Martha tried to reach up to Jason, trying to pull him down through the gap between Amanda’s caged fingers, but she was no match for the raw, steel-cable strength of the firm fingers, especially in her wounded state.  She looked up, and received a splash of her husband’s blood on her face as it squirted from the newly formed hole in his right shoulder.  She wiped it away, shaking so hard she could barely make a sweeping motion across her face.  She closed her eyes, feeling more cold droplets trickling down her back from above as her husband was literally taken apart by Amanda’s scissors.

                Amanda plugged up both holes with her fingers, and held Jason in place for several more seconds, allowing him to continue sobbing dryly, quivering so much that more and more blood was spilling out against her fingers, staining much of her palm red.  Jason’s face was beginning to turn pale, and Amanda calmly lowered him back into her palm.  Martha hugged herself to him, crying heavily, before she was grabbed up by Amanda’s fingers around her ankles and tugged into a pinched position, now laid above her husband, who was cradled unmoving in Amanda’s palm.

                “Time to join your husband, Martha,” said Amanda sweetly, ignoring Martha’s pitiful and tear-muffled cries for mercy.  “Shhh… shhh… shhhh…”

                “P-Please… don’t do this to my b-body…” sniffled Martha, slowing her struggling as she discovered how fruitless it was.

                “Why not?”

                “B-Because it’s m-mine… and you’re g-going to cut…”

                “Martha, I want you to remember something.  Your body isn’t important.  That’s what I’m about to show you.  Martha, do you know something?”

                “W-W-Wh…”

                Amanda smiled, calmly brushing her bangs out of her eyes for the tiny woman to get a better view.  “You’re a beautiful woman.  You always have been, and you will be as long as you’re alive.  I’m going to take a little piece of you right now and make it mine.  But you’ll still be just as beautiful.”

                “To WHO?”

                “To your husband.  And… to me, of course,” said Amanda, raising her hand to her lips.  Puckering, she laid her moist mouth upon Martha’s chest and kissed, slobbering slightly into her cleavage before pulling away with a wordless smirk, leaving Martha speechless.  “Beautiful…” she cooed as she brought the scissors onto Martha’s thigh, cutting calmly through the tiny woman’s leg.  Martha screeched, wincing, and almost blacked out from horror as she felt the large, dead weight of her right leg plop down on top of her barely conscious husband’s body below.  A steady trickle of blood began pouring down onto Jason as well, filling in the deep creases of Amanda’s palm.  “Beautiful.”

                Martha closed her eyes, not even wanting to look.  In the darkness, she tried to refocus on something.  Anything.  A distant, happy memory.  Childhood.  Her parents.  Her siblings.  Her friends.

                Jason.

                She felt her body become lighter as her left leg was snipped off lovingly by Amanda.  Still with her eyes closed, she felt colder as she began losing more and more blood.  Amanda plugged up the holes with her fingers, and laid a final wet kiss onto Martha’s breasts before unpinching her fingers, allowing the legless Martha to plop next to the armless Jason in the center of the humongous hand.

                Jason, his head going extremely light as he lost more and more blood, rolled his neck to the side and saw his wife, breathing more and more slowly, her eyes barely open.

                “Martha…” he squeaked.  “Can you hear me?”

                “Yes…” she whispered, crying.  “Jason…”

                “Don’t talk, Martha.  Hold still…” whimpered Jason pathetically, wondering if there was any chance for them at this point.

                “I’m sorry.”

                “No, Martha, no…”

                “I am.  F-For…” she gulped, swallowed deeply before hacking up a ball of blood onto her chin.  She coughed, regaining herself slightly.  “It w-was always en-nough for m-me… w-what you d-d...”

                “Martha, p-please…” hacked Jason, his throat dusty and empty.  “Forgive me.  Your d-dreams… I always w-wanted them as m-much as m-my…”

                “I know…” she whispered through her blood-slurred throat, coughing again.  She reached a hand out blindly, fishing for Jason in the steadily blurring environment, then found his cheek.  She stroked her fingers along his face, feeling his eyes, nose, ears, and lips, etching the sensation of touching him into her mind.  She smiled weakly.  “I love you.”

                “I love you too, Martha.”  Jason couldn’t help but smile, his eyes welling with tears.  He had never in his life felt feelings like these for any human being, ideal, or deity.  “Forever.”

                “Forever and…” she gulped, hacking up another bloodball.  “…ever.”

                Jason’s world went dark, his last vision being the pale, serene face of his oddly smiling wife, as her eyes closed finally.

                Amanda smiled, watching the whole scene, then slowly brought her hands together, crushing the two bodies into one another.  Their bones snapped inside their bodies, more blood spurted out through the openings from their stolen limbs, their skin smashed together.  Bracing her knuckles, Amanda mashed them together with great force and strength, crushing both of them into entwined, bloody pulps between her palms.  She repeated the motion continuously, half a dozen times, smushing their bodies together until she could barely distinguish the horrific mess between her hands.

                Wasting little more time, Amanda balled the mash into one fist and raised it to her mouth, parting her lips gleefully.  Carefully, she dropped the pair of tiny, deformed bodies into her mouth, adding their severed limbs as well.  Then, closing her lips, she allowed the rush of salty, metallic blood to mix tastefully with her saliva.  With a lift of her sopping tongue, she pushed their bodies nearer to her teeth and began to munch thoughtuflly, grinding them up into swallowable, partially liquefied morsels.

A glistening tear of joy welled in Amanda’s eye, and she swallowed the crushed bodies of Jason and Martha slowly and thickly, placing a hand on her throat and stroking it, a warmth rushing through her body.

“I love you, Jason and Martha.  Forever and ever.”