“Celia what the hell?” Cassandra asked, leveling her own weapon at the Cheer Captain, eyes wide.

The moans of the dead slowly alerting to their presence echoed throughout the parking garage, causing Barb to shiver as she stepped slightly away from Cassandra. Her hand tightened on the sword handle, but without a gun the last thing she wanted to do was draw Celia’s attention to herself. Her eyes darted back and forth, cursing as she saw only the oppressive darkness of the parking garage. She waved the flashlight around, biting her lip as occasional silhouettes shambled in their direction, or moving ground gave away the presence of undead tinies.

“I’m afraid I can’t have any weak links in the squad,” Celia said softly, “it really hurts me to have to do this Cass, I’m sorry for you too Peter, I really did like you.” She smiled and raised her rifle, “I’ll do it quick, in the head. You won’t come back.”

“Have you lost your goddamn mind!?” Cassandra rasped. “Celia, whatever you think we did wrong, just calm down and lower the gun-“

“She’s already made up her mind,” Peter said angrily, poking his head out of the tactical vest pocket. “We’re all supposed to be her little toys, and the moment we step out of line? She gets rid of us.”

“It’s not like that,” Celia snarled, “I need absolute obedience, it’s the only way forward. I liked you Cass, but I can’t have you turning people against me,” she glanced at Peter, “taking what’s mine…”

Barb slowly inched away while they talked, biting her lip and glancing at nearby cars, If I make a break for it while these two shoot it out, maybe I can get to the ground floor of the garage… She watched, waiting for her moment.

Cassandra growled angrily, raising her rifle to her shoulder, “Celia, I really don’t want to do this!”

“Do what Cassie?” Celia said with a sad smile, “Pull the trigger if you think you’ve got the guts.” A *click* rang out as Cassie did so, her eyes going wide as she looked down at the gun in horror. “When you take Old Yeller out behind the shed, you don’t give him a loaded M-16,” Celia said softly, “knowing you would’ve done it though… I guess that’s the last push I needed.”

“Celia… no,” Cassie pleaded one final time.

The cheer captain’s face had gone hard, the traces of nostalgia and warmth replaced only by a cold and calculating stare. She racked her rifle, the loud click causing a chorus of moans as more of the dead began to stumble into the bubble of light provided by the flashlights they carried.

“Just don’t move,” Celia said, “I had to let the coach get bit… it was a nasty thing, and I didn’t like doing it. I want to do you clean, no coming back… I owe you that much.”

“Fuck you!” Cassandra screamed tears in her eyes. In a flash she tossed her rifle away, letting her hand dip below her skirt. The silver barrel of the revolver flashed in the low light as she squeezed off a shot, causing a booming flash that echoed down the concrete tomb of the garage. The ground near Celia sparked, and the cheer captain shrieked in surprise, leaping backwards and squeezing off a burst from her own weapon. Cassandra just barely leapt behind a concrete pillar as the bullets impacted it.

That’s my cue to boogie, Barb thought grimly, sprinting for a row of cars parked along the wall.

The motion caught Celia’s eye, and with a snarl she trained her rifle on Barb next, “Don’t think I didn’t forget about you fatass! You should have stayed in your room eating yourself to death!”

Barb grunted in pain as she hit the ground, bullets whizzing overhead, I’m not even that fat! Some distant part of her protested. Her eyes snapped open, seeing a four-inch zombie just inches from her nose. “EEP!” She flailed at it, knocking it away mere moments before it would have taken a chunk out of her face. She scrambled to her feet, pulling the sword free as a full-sized ghoul shambled between the cars. Behind her she heard Cassandra and Celia trading gunfire, along with Peter’s terrified shouts.

Cassandra breathed out slowly, slamming shells back into the snub-nosed revolver and cocking it again. The sound of shoes scraping against the rough asphalt of the garage filled the air as both combatants reloaded.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Peter shouted from her pocket, “There are too many of those things!”

Across from them Celia was having the same realization, and the Cheer captain scowled as she started jogging back the way they’d come, her gear jangling at her sides. She turned back to them as she reached the door, silhouetted against the light of the mall.

“Fine then,” Celia shouted angrily, “have fun getting torn apart Cass!” She slammed the door shut behind her, and the ominous *click* of the magnetic locks engaging rang out among the steadily increasing moans and growls of the undead.

“We’re trapped in here!” Peter wailed.

“H-Hey, we’ll be fine,” Cassandra said weakly, fumbling in her vest pocket, “We’ve got…” she gulped as she looked at the scant three bullets she came up with, then at the wall of ghouls descending on them.

“Hey, Cheerleader!” Barb shouted, popping up between a pair of cars. “This way!” she waved, flourishing the Katana in the dark as she cut down a moaning zombie that stood in her way. She waved the flashlight, encouraging the cheerleader to follow her, “Come on flygirl, run for it! You can weave around them, but if you sit there wondering what the hell to do, they’ll get close and block you in like a brick wall! Come on!”

“She’s right,” Peter said, panicked, “Y-You’ve got to go for it!”

Cassandra screamed, running across the garage and diving out of the way of the rotted, grasping hands. She skittered to a stop as she saw more tiny zombies grasping at her ankles, and then with a flip that made Peter’s stomach turn she vaulted over them.

“Nice moves!” Barb said.

“T-Thanks!” Cassandra said, smiling, “what do we do now?”

“I spotted an emergency exit this way!” Barb shouted. They began running, the flashlight waving in front of Barb madly as they fled through the concrete tomb. “HIYA!” Barb shouted, cleaving apart a rotting zombie in a blood-soaked t-shirt just as it stumbled out of the shadows.

“Wow!” Cassandra said, watching Barb cut them a path to freedom, “You really know what you’re doing with that thing!”

“While you were all partying, I studied the blade,” Barb said with a grin, “and blades don’t need to be reloaded!”

“Far out,” Cassandra said, awed.

“Yeah, I studied under Master Rurouni Kenshin,” Barb said with a smirk as they reached the door.

Cassandra’s brow furrowed, “Wait a minute, that’s an anime!”

Barb gulped, “I uh… wouldn’t know,” she lied. She pushed on the steel bar of the emergency exit, causing light to pour in as they both blinked. Barb’s heart leapt as she saw that the iron staircase leading down the side of the parking garage was free of obstacles, undead or otherwise, finally a break, she almost laughed.

“Look, there aren’t many of them on this side of the mall,” Cassandra said excitedly, starting down the stairs.

“Yeah, but where are we headed?” Barb panted, feeling sweat drops starting to form on her brow.

“There!” Peter shouted, pointing across the street from the mall. There were several office buildings, and nestled in between them was a small squat building with bars on the windows and a burned-out neon sign overhead that read “Pegg and Wright’s.”

“What is that?” Cassandra asked. She glanced down at the mob of zombies that were starting to converge on them as the bounded down the last few stairs.

“I don’t care what it is,” Barb wheezed, “It’s got bars on the windows and it looks like it’s made out of bricks.”

“How do we get in?” Cassandra asked.

“Rooftop!” Peter shouted, “get moving, go!”

“Pretty bossy for a tiny,” Barb shouted, wiping her forehead and giving him a smirk.

Peter scowled and gripped the fibers of the vest as Cassandra ran, “I don’t want to end up as an appetizer before they eat you two!” He glanced around the parking lot, thankfully most of the zombies were clustered around the mall’s main entrances, but some of them were starting to catch their scent, turning slowly and emerging out of buildings and beginning their slow but unending pursuit.

“Locked,” Barb said, pushing on the front door of the building.

“Around the back!” Peter shouted.

Cassandra led the way as they rounded the building, seeing a handful of the dead at the end of the alleyway plodding listlessly towards them. There was a dumpster, and a stack of pallets next to it. Barb quickly tried the back door, then scowled.

“No good,” she said.

“Climb up those!” Peter shouted, pointing to the pallets.

Cassandra quickly scurried up the wooden pallets, crying out in triumph as she climbed up onto the roof. Barb started after her, grimacing as the pallets creaked slightly. She screamed in surprise as a rotted hand grabbed her leg, pulling her down and causing the pallets to tilt.

“I’ve got you!” Cassandra shouted, aiming her handgun and popping off a single perfect shot. The zombie stumbled backwards, releasing Barb’s leg. Cassandra leaned down, gripping Barb’s arm and helping the other girl clamber onto the roof. With a snarl the cheerleader stood up, putting her leg on the pile of wooden pallets and giving it one sharp shove. They clambered to the ground, splintering and causing the small crowd of undead to moan almost angrily as the route to the rooftop was cut off.

“T-Thanks,” Barb panted, smiling weakly, “Sorry for slowing you down, if I’d known the world was going to end, I’d have gotten in better shape.”

“Hey, you saved my ass back in the garage,” Cassandra said, smiling. She helped Barb up and the two girls, and the tiny in Cass’s pocket, examined the rooftop door.

“Today’s our lucky day!” Barb said, turning the doorknob and watching it open without resistance. She waved the other two down into the building, “Come on!”

…

The cheerleaders were somber as Celia slowly lit the pair of pom poms in the center of the rooftop, “Cassandra, Cassie to friends,” she said slowly, “We will never forget her sacrifice… or our beloved tutor Peter, who was with her when we were set upon by the dead… Like Coach Matthews, their flames will extinguish today, but will burn on forever in our hearts.”

She’s not even going to mention Barb, John thought bitterly, blinking tears out of his eyes.

He wanted to say something, to shout that he knew Celia had killed them, but he simply choked on his tears and seethed. There was nothing he could do, hanging from Celia’s necklace as her new trophy-tiny. As she breathed the rise and fall of her chest brought him further into her cleavage, rattling the small chain. Idly fingers as long as his body came down and stuffed him down deeper, blocking out the sun and sparing him the rest of the bizarre funeral.

…

He hated how warm Celia’s breasts were, although they weren’t quite as big as Barb’s, they had no problem swallowing him up, and as the Cheer Captain went about her day the light tinge of her own sweat made her pale skin slightly sticky. By the time he felt the gold chain he was affixed to lift out of her cleavage he looked and smelled like he’d run a marathon himself, and he glared hatefully at the smirking Cheer Captain as she dangled him in front of her.

“So, John, right?” Celia said, leaning back behind the mall security office desk.

“That’s my name,” he growled, glancing around. They were alone, Celia had commandeered the mall’s security office as her own personal quarters, and expensive luxury items like purses and jewelry hung lavishly around a memory foam mattress pilfered from the mall’s furniture store. “You seem to be doing well for yourself,” he muttered angrily.

“A few creature comforts to help me get over the loss of my beloved friends,” Celia chuckled, “not that a new Luis Vuitton bag means much these days… unless you want to carry your ammo in it, I guess.”

“I know you killed them!” John snarled.

“And what’s it to you?” Celia asked coldly. She twirled the chain of the necklace around, causing John to grunt as she squeezed him tightly in her fist. “You came in here with Barb, right? Well guess what Fix-It-Felix, you just got an upgrade from the school’s biggest loser to the prom queen.”

“She was ten times the woman you’ll ever be!” John shouted, “she was brave, and beautiful and-“ he was cut off as Celia squeezed him tighter, causing him to scream in pain.

“Barb’s zombie chow,” Celia said harshly, “and I have a feeling if you called Tiny Protective Services nobody would pick up.” She smiled, “If I were you? I’d start getting in good with the new management.”

“I’ll never be your pet or whatever the hell this is,” he said, “and if you think I’m going to fix that subway tram for you now? You’re delusional!”

A blank expression came over Celia’s face, and for a moment John felt suddenly afraid, not the ripe rich adrenaline-soaked terror that the undead brought, this was a cold, uncertain fear. They were quiet, and as he lay there helpless in the cheerleader’s grip, he could almost feel her heartbeat through her fingers, fingers that could easily pulp him like a ripe orange.

“You’re going to fix the tram,” Celia said finally, making eye contact with him, “I can think of a lot of ways to make your life a living hell while still leaving you perfectly capable of working.”

“We’ll see,” he muttered, looking away.

Celia chuckled and sighed, “Look, I don’t think you realize how much the world has changed for you tinies, like when things were all normal and civilized, we could all pretend we were equals and live in harmony and all that shit… but now?” she leaned in closer, “Now you’re my tiny, but don’t worry, I’m going to take very good care of you… I think someday, when you’re properly broken in, we’ll look back on these early days and laugh.”

“I’m never going to be yours, in any way!” John said through gritted teeth, wincing as he prepared for the next squeeze.

“Let’s start wearing down that resistance now,” Celia said with a smirk. She leaned back in the chair, propping her sneakered feet up on the table. Slowly she pulled one off, wrinkling her nose as the footwear separated from her sock. “Whew,” she chuckled, “I really should toss these and get something new from the shoe store downstairs…” She held the mouth of the shoe out to him, letting the dank vinegary stench wash over him for a moment. “Feel like being a good tiny yet?” Celia asked, fighting a laugh.

“Go fuck yourself!” John shouted.

“Wrong answer insole,” Celia drawled.

John grimaced as she shifted in the chair, tossing the shoe to the floor where it landed with a *clap*. She bent over, holding him maybe ten feet above it before dropping him. He flailed through the air, the rich and powerful smell of her sweat washing over him until he hit the padding at the bottom of the shoe with a grunt.

“Get down to the toe,” Celia taunted, hovering her socked foot over him, “unless you’d like a few broken bones.”

John’s eyes went wide as the foot started to descend, and he scurried on all fours to the end of the dark tunnel. The smell of her stale sweat here was overpowering, and he coughed and his eyes watered as her socked toes wiggled playfully, cutting off his light and source of fresh air. They slammed into him like trucks, pinning him against the coarse fabric of the shoe’s toe and scratching his back as they eagerly wiggled, forcing him into his place underneath them.

John grunted, pushing feebly against the sweaty, socked digits as they teasingly pressed down on his face. It was a humid hell, and the stench of Celia’s sweaty feet surrounded him as she laced the shoe up, sealing him in his footwear coffin.

Celia giggled as she knelt down, scrunching her toes over her prisoner, “It’s crazy just how well Tinies can ride around in a shoe like that, all that pressure and sweat… but you don’t really get hurt, not too badly anyways… so long as you make sure you stay in the right spot.” She pressed her big toe down on John’s face, biting her lip to stifle a giggle as she felt him shaking his head, trying to escape the rank sock.

“Aww, regretting our decision?” she laughed. “Too bad!” She stood up, “I feel like putting in a bit of time on one of those treadmills at the sporting goods store, buckle up.”

In the darkness of her shoe, John grunted with each step, fighting for air as the humidity of her sock smothered him. Each step was like a brutal hug, squeezing his body and occasionally popping a joint. He realized with horror he’d have to force himself to stay underneath her toes, if he let his body slip too far down under her sole… He growled angrily and hugged Celia’s big toe for leverage, squeezing it to him.

“Is that a hug?” the Cheer Captain giggled as she walked through the mall, “How cute!” She let a slight skip go into her step as she imagined all the fun she’d have breaking in her new pet.

…

The building Celia and Cassandra had breached, “Pegg and Wright’s,” turned out to be a pub, one with a distinctly British theme. A Union Jack hung proudly behind the bar, and bags of frozen fish and chips were plentiful in the freezer. Like the mall the power was still on, and within a half hour Barb and Cassandra were at a booth, sharing a greasy meal together while Peter sat on the table, nibbling a single fry.

“Place looks deserted,” Cassandra muttered, glancing around the darkened pub.

“I checked all the offices and back rooms,” Barb sighed, “there aren’t any tiny sized entrances, so it probably wasn’t a size-integrated bar. I think we’re zombie free in here.”

“Too bad about the no tinies thing,” Peter said, looking around at some of the décor, “I actually really like the layout.”

“Tell you what Peter, I’m the new owner and I say you can come in,” Cassandra laughed, handing him down another fry. He smirked and reached up for it, taking a large bite out of the fried potato wedge.

“We’ve got to get back to the mall,” Barb said quietly.

Cassandra and Peter froze, looking at one another, then back to her, “Barb,” Peter said finally, “I don’t think that’s happening…”

“My friend John, the tiny I came in with… he’s still back there,” Barb muttered, “I can’t just leave him with Celia.”

“We’re finally out of her grip,” Peter said, standing up and letting his fry drop to the ground, “Y-You big people don’t get it, but that girl is scary!”

“If she shoots us, we’re just as dead as if she stomps you,” Barb said, a dark look coming over her face. “She was keeping you as her pet or something, right? What do you think she’s doing with my friend right now?”

“Nothing good,” Peter admitted, “But… she’s got dozens of armed cheerleaders, even if all the new ones aren’t as zealous about keeping the old Cheer Squad chain of command intact, she’s still got plenty of people who will gun us down if she so much as snaps her fingers.”

“No,” Cassandra said quietly, “I think… I think some of them aren’t that far gone.” She sighed, then looked down at Peter, then to Barb. “We all know what’s happening is fucked up, I knew it too… but I was able to tell myself it was just for a little while, that the Celia I remembered was still in there, that we’d all talk about it someday like it was a bad road trip or whatever.” She blinked a few tears out of her eyes, “Celia… she killed the coach, she tried to kill me.” Her fists clenched a moment, “If I tell the squad what really happened… I think at least a few of them will snap out of it.”

“Personally, I’m on board with killing all the cheerleaders,” Barb said with a smirk, “present company excluded of course.”

“I don’t know if I want to go to war,” Peter said tiredly, “Cass… we could get one of those cars in the parking lot working, and just go.”

“Where?” Barb asked softly.

“I don’t know!” Peter exclaimed angrily, “somewhere that doesn’t have Cheer Captain Rhodes! Forget the Monroeville Mall, we can across town to the Crossroads Mall instead for all I care! So long as she isn’t there!”

“I…” Cassandra sighed, “I think I might be with Peter,” she said uncertainly. “I’m sorry Barb…”

“RENNNNTTTT” a raspy voice drawled just outside the barred doors.

“Oh, you are fucking kidding me,” Barb muttered.

“What is that?” Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a minute,” Barb growled, walking over to the cash register. She popped it open with a chiming sound, and started grabbing wads of cash out of it. With a sigh she took several hundred dollars in now useless paper and walked to the back office, taking the small staircase up to the rooftop.

The pub only had a handful of zombies milling around it, most had wandered back across the expansive parking lot towards the mall, likely drawn by the greater number of living humans inside. Barb quickly spotted the one she was looking for as she leaned over the side, her sour faced old Landlady, Miss Smythe, was banging weakly against the thick wooden front doors.

“Hey!” she shouted, causing the ghoul’s head to whip upward. “Here’s the rent!” With a laugh she tossed the money down, letting it rain over the handful of zombies who pulled feebly on the window bars.

“Reennnntt,” Smythe rasped, and Barb could swear a smile came over the zombie’s features as she bent down to pick up the bills as they fluttered in the wind.

First time I’ve ever paid rent early, Barb chuckled, walking back to the staircase.

“Sorry about that,” she said, walking back into the pub, “Just had to take care of something.”

“Whatever,” Cassandra said uncomfortably. She glanced above the bar, where a Winchester lever action rifle hung, “Do you suppose that works?”

“Could be deactivated, but let’s take a look,” Barb muttered. She lifted it off the hooks, then cocked the lever once, her eyes going wide as she saw a bullet flip out. “Damn,” She said with a grin, “not only is it the real deal, apparently the bar owner kept this baby loaded!”

“Well Yippee Kay Aye,” Cassandra said with a small smile.

“When we go out again, you should take one of those,” Barb said, nodding at the cricket bat on the wall, “you could totally brain a zombie with that, and you can kill the tiny ones with it too.”

“Yeah… when we go out again,” Cassandra sighed. “Peter, I’m tired, want to ah… go relax.”

“Yeah,” he said a sly grin coming over his face. “Hey Barb,” he said, turning to the other giant girl, “Do you mind if we crash in the back office for a few minutes?”

“You know guys I was surviving in the apocalypse with a tiny too, so I know exactly what you’re going to go do,” Barb said with a chuckle, “but… yeah, go have fun.”

Cassandra cleared her throat, embarrassed by Barb’s frankness, “Uh, thanks…”

“While you’re away from me though, think about helping me,” she said quietly. “I know neither of you owe me or John anything at this point, but…” she sighed, “We could take Celia out, and maybe in the process we’d do everyone in that mall a big favor, even if they don’t know it yet.”

“Y-Yeah,” Cassandra muttered, “I guess…”

She slowly cradled Peter in her hand, drawing him close to her chest as she headed towards the back office. It wasn’t much, just a chair, a desk, and a computer, but it was privacy, and with a huff she slowly placed Peter on the desk.

“So,” she said softly, “What do you think?”

“I think I’m scared shitless of going back to that mall,” Peter admitted. He looked away a minute, “I… We, just barely got out of that.”

“Without Barb we’d be shambling around outside with the others,” Cassandra said with a shrug.

“Yeah, but you saved her when she got to the mall, I feel like that debt’s even,” Peter said, crossing his arms. “Why are you asking me these things Cassie? I’m a tiny, I… I don’t know what I bring to the table here.”

“You’re smarter than me,” Cassandra said with a sad smile, “I thought Celia was my friend… Being honest, I really don’t know if I trust my own judgment anymore.” She leaned back in the chair, “I’m delegating this one to you, should we help her, or should we grab a Jeep and drive as far north as a tank of gas will take us?”

“T-That’s a lot of pressure to put on me!” he protested.

“Hey, so far you’ve been making the right calls,” Cassandra said, “So what do you think, is it worth risking our lives helping some girl rescue her tiny BF? Or is the land of the dead a dog-eat-dog world where we’re all out for ourselves?” She chuckled, “I’m just a dumb cheerleader, make the call grad student.”

“My doctorate was supposed to be in chemistry, not philosophy,” he chuckled. He sighed, “I guess… if it were me, I’d really appreciate it… and I’m guessing you’re one of those people who thinks tinies are worth as much as giants…”

“Shit,” Cassandra laughed, “after all this you better hope so!”

“Fuck it,” Peter muttered, “I guess I want to get to Fiddler’s Green.”

“Fiddler’s Green?” Cassandra asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a folklore thing, it’s where a sailor goes when he doesn’t go to hell,” Peter explained, “to get there he’s got to carry an ore inland far enough until someone asks him what it is.”

“I get it,” Cassandra said, “to go to heaven he can’t be a sailor anymore.”

“Dead Reckoning, that’s the meaning,” Peter chuckled, “you always were a clever girl.”

“I’m a horny girl now,” Cassandra growled, snatching him up, “I guess we’re going to be the good guys, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a smile, dangling from her fingertips, “I guess so…”

“So whatever perverted things I do to my adorable tiny are okay,” Cassandra drawled, dangling him right in front of her smiling face in a way that let him feel her warm breath on his body, “because I’m one of the good guys… girls, right?”

He gulped, “W-Well t-that would depend on the level of perversion surely-“

“Nope,” Cassandra said, “I’m going to charge in there and fight my former best friend, dozens of other armed cheerleaders, and god knows how many zombies, I feel like I’ve earned shoving you up my ass.”

Peter blinked, then smiled, “Oh, okay, yeah sure!”

Cassandra burst out laughing, “I expected a bit more protest, were you always an ass man?”

She slowly lowered her skirt and panties, revealing her mocha-colored skin as Peter looked on, excited. She turned around, giving him an excellent view of her large and toned ass, and with a giggle she slapped it once, causing a slight jiggle that rippled across the brown flesh in a pleasing way.

“Wow,” he breathed, his eyes going wide.

“You’re definitely an ass man Pete,” Cassandra teased. “Now, how to get you ready to go in?” She brought him back around to her face, looming over him like a colossus, and sighed, “no lube in the apocalypse, you know?”

“Spit!” he said suddenly, startling her.

“Come again?” she chuckled.

“Celia used to uh…” he gulped, “Look, spit’s fine!” He grinned, “Go for it!”

The fist wad of spit shocked him, causing him to blink and sputter, in truth he’d expected at least a warning. He felt the slimy saliva drift down over him as Cassandra slowly pulled his clothes off, letting the warm goo flow over his naked body. He found he didn’t mind it like he had when Celia did it, and he just covered his eyes with a laugh as she licked him slowly, finishing his lubrication.

“Ready to go where the sun never shines?” Cassie teased.

“So ready,” Peter admitted.

He felt his breath slow as he was brought back around to Cassie’s excellent backside, the twin ebony globes practically inviting him in as she slowly moved him closer.

Peter felt his body collide with her puckered hole, sliding against the ample cheeks on either side of him as she slowly worked him inside.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed, “come on Pete, get in there!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and she gasped as he forced his way inside her, the warm darkness consuming his world as her fingers helped push him into her behind.

“Oh,” Cassandra breathed, “Wow…”

Every movement of the tiny man inside her sent waves of fluttering pleasure through her. She moaned wildly as she collapsed back on the office chair, fingering herself wildly as her tiny lover struggled and squirmed inside her.

For Peter it was a surreal experience, like a warm wet sleeping bag struggling to close itself on him. He could hear Cassandra’s mewling groans and squeaks, each was like an earthquake to him as he gently tapped on the walls, trying to find the sweet spot.

“FUUUCCCKKK”

Her voice rumbled through his world, shaking him as he grinned in the darkness and began rubbing that particular section of wall harder.

“UNGHHH PEEEETTTEEEER” she whined.

No mercy, he thought, taking a deep breath of the warm and pungent air inside her as he leaned his entire body against her inner walls.

“AHH GOD!”

Cassandra collapsed, panting into the chair as her muscled spasmed in orgasm.

“Fuck me,” she muttered, “P-Pete, if you can hear me, m-maybe start going back toward the bottom- OH SHIT!” she went rigid as a wave of pleasure spiked through her.

Just try getting me out, the tiny man thought as he lovingly massaged the sensitive patch he’d found with both hands.

I’ve made a huge mistake, Cassandra thought, sinking into the chair as her second orgasm built and her eyes began to cross.

…

“That was crazy,” Peter laughed, laying on the desk with a goofy grin on his face.

“Y-Yeah,” Cassandra muttered, blinking as she tried to focus her vision.

“I could swear you tried to get me out around the fourth round,” Peter chuckled.

“I tried to get you out after the first one,” she admitted with a sigh. “Let’s stick to front side fun from here on out.”

“Oh no, I want to go back to the back door,” Peter said smugly.

“Fucking tinies,” Cassie said, forcing herself up so she could stare at him, “you’re just too much for us big girls!”

“Don’t forget it,” Peter muttered, letting himself lay on the desk again, looking up at the office light. He sighed a moment, the mix of orgasm and exhaustion had brought an unfortunate mental clarity, “We should help Barb…”

“Yeah,” Cassandra muttered, “I figured you were going to say that… want to go find her?”

“Can you wash me off in the bathroom sink or something first?” he asked.

“Seems fair,” Cassandra laughed.

…

Barb was up on the roof, glancing at the mall as the sun set. Idly she was cocking the now emptied lever action rifle, enjoying the loud click and the motion of the gun as she cycled it. The katana lay across her lap, and she glanced at it and chuckled.

You turned out to be a bit of a badass after all Barb, she thought to herself, but being a hero is only worth it if you’ve got someone to be a hero for…

She heard the door open behind her, and she sighed, “So what’s it going to be Cassie? Peter? Are you in? Or are you out?”

“I think we’re in,” Peter said hesitantly, peeking out of Cassie’s vest pocket.

Barb breathed out slowly, sighing happily as she stood up. She rounded to face them, leaning the rifle over her shoulder and letting the long mall Katana hang against her side, the long shadow silhouetted in the blood red sunset as the former NEET stood before it, looking for all the world like an angel of vengeance.

“My god,” Peter whispered.

Cassandra could only nod, it was like something out of a western, a samurai movie, a sci-fi flick, and an epic fantasy all in one as Barb walked towards them, a smile on her face.

“John’s the only one who ever saw anything in me,” Barb said in a low voice. She looked at the armies of the dead between them and the shopping mall and smirked, “Let the Night come, the Dawn, the Day. I’ll be getting him back… Nobody’s getting left for dead this time.”

“Holy shit,” Cassandra breathed, “B-Barb, you’re like… on another level right now…”

“Major good guy energy,” Peter muttered.

Barb broke the mystique by giggling a moment, “Good girl, bad girl, I’m the girl with the gun.” She cocked the lever action rifle for emphasis, “Now let’s go get John back!”