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.