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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She inserted you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"AAAHN~!"

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

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