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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Gah! Move away!"

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

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

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

THUD

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She froze.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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