At six inches tall and getting smaller by the second, it didn't matter how hard Sally ran; even at a casual stroll, Delia was always right behind her. She knew full well there was no chance of escape, yet still she ran, harried onward by instinct. She was afraid, more than she'd even been before; afraid of the woman whose pursuing footfalls boomed after her, approaching with all the implacable momentum of a rock slide.

Before long, Sally's continued shrinking had made her so weightless that she could no longer find sure footing running on the carpet, and so she fell, tumbling head over heels until she landed face-down on the floor. Before she could move Delia's foot descended on her, rolling her over with her big toe. Seeing her tormentor crouched over her, she shrieked and tried to scramble away, but a Delia's fingers caught her legs and lifted her up, dangling her before the massive redhead's freckled face.

Delia took great delight in feeling her catch's delicate limbs struggle against her grip. What delicious fear; what adorable squeaks. She watched intently as the tiny woman became tinier still, dwindling down to the size of her fingertip. Only then did she let her go, dropping her onto her palm. She lowered her face over the tiny woman and saw her retreat, cringing, until she had her back against Delia's fingers. There she sat, huddled against them as if for protection from the being to whom they belonged. Delia smiled, showing off twin rows of teeth which now stood taller than the little woman. How long before the ridges of her skin were mountain ranges that she would never be able to climb up? How long before she shrank so small that even a lifetime's worth of walking wouldn't carry her more than a single millimeter beyond her starting point? She was so puny now, barely the size of an ant—surely it wouldn't be long now. Soon she would be microscopic, so small there would be no chance of  ever finding her again, and still she would keep shrinking. Before that happened, however, there was something Delia wanted to do.

She curled her hand around the tiny woman and headed off to her bedroom. Once there, she used her free hand to undress herself completely before climbing into bed. She opened her hand and looked closely at it. The minute woman was barely visible now, a tiny fleck of dust she had to strain her eyes to see, but she was definitely there.

Just thinking about how small she was now had Delia aroused. Excited, she held her hand over her crotch and tipped it over until the tiny mite-sized woman slid off, her barely-visible form falling down into the mass of pubic hairs. Already wet from watching the other woman dwindle away, Delia slid her fingers into her pussy, moaning in ecstasy.

For Sally, lost deep within the tangle of mile-long pubic hairs, that moan was a powerful vibration that rippled through the entire world. Far above, an unspeakably massive hand slid back and forth, brushing against the mass of mile-long pubic hairs. The air around her grew musty and heavy with the scent of Delia's sex. The sound of Delia's schlicking was deafening, and even the smallest movements of her skin as she masturbated were like violent upheavals for her.

Sally curled up tight and covered her eyes and ears. She didn't want to open her eyes ever again, fearing what she would find the next time she did. Still, she couldn't help it as one particularly violent upheaval soon sent her tumbling down the length of Delia's pubic mound, floating down like a speck of dust until she landed on the wet, sticky surface of Delia's fingers, leaving her stranded in an ocean of the other woman's cum.

Delia breathed heavily as she pulled her fingers away from her pussy. Where might the tiny woman be now? Could she be still alive, left to wander around on her crotch, where she would be forced to feedoff her sweat and dead skin cells in order to survive? Or had she been smeared into a red pulp under her hand? She had trouble deciding which of the two options was hotter. As she was fantasizing, she licked her fingers clean, as was customary for her, unaware of the infinitesimal little speck of a woman who was left to drown in her spit, her body so pitifully small the taste of her couldn't even register on her tongue.