Jason and Martha both lay collapsed on the tabletop, panting heavily out of their dry mouths, both feeling more violated than they ever had or had ever believed they might have been in their lives. Their throats burned hotly, and their cheeks stung, partially from the salt, and partially from the mind-numbing, ball-busting horror of what they had just done. Jason coughed heavily, wondering that if he were to spit for the rest of his life, if he would ever get the taste and sensation out of his throat. He doubted it.
He reviewed it in his mind, still unable to process it: in order to save his own life, he had just taken into his body what felt like a half gallon of stinging sweat trickling down the pale, bare ass of Amanda, who had just finished a tremendous and overwrought workout. Filthy, dirty, salt-filled, grimy sweat-slime dribbled continuously down her damp skin. He hacked, rubbing at his pained throat, his eyes watering. He felt himself actually begin to breathe more heavily as he massaged his throat without effect. Jason shut his eyes tightly, feeling like his body had become a sewage plant. No amount of cleaning or gargling would ever change the fact that he had just forced into his body, directly from the source, mouthful after slimy mouthful of sweat from the butt cheek of a total stranger. To Jason, it was the mental equivalent of swallowing a tarantula whole: feeling it clambering around his esophagus, and yet being completely unable to force it back up. Having to exist with the feeling that it was in there, part of him, and he could do nothing about it.
To Jason, there was no discernible difference here.
He looked over to Martha, and saw her breathing heavily. Not only was her back still in pain, but Jason knew this effect must have been doubly hard on the admittedly germaphobic Martha, who despised uncleanliness and had been known to send dishes back at restaurants for finding a charred crisp ball on the plate if she was eating something grilled. Finding a hair in her food, and Martha would have left the restaurant and, as Jason liked to joke, probably start a committee to get the place shut down. He could only imagine what this had been like for her.
Amanda towered over them once again, standing up, her back to them. Raising both hands, she slapped them against her supple butt cheeks, allowing the firm things to jiggle slightly, the cracking sound of the slap echoing through the cavernous apartment, and Jason’s tiny, sensitive eardrums. She dug her fingertips against her pale ass flesh, clenching her palms flat against them. She then splayed her fingers, sliding her palm all over her naked butt, avoiding the crack, keeping each hand on its respective cheek. She pointed her finger, slipping it along the slick, well-licked skin surface, like a horizontal ice skater on the slippery plain of Amanda’s bottom. Then, with a final slap and clench of her fingers, Amanda released her hands from her butt and took a step forward. She leaned over, and as she came back into view, Jason realized she had stepped back into her panties and shorts and was yanking them back up over her exposed lower body.
Amanda turned back to the two captives and grasped at a kitchen chair, pulling it over and taking a seat. She stared at them, though, unblinking, as she did this, a smile still plastered across her face like the twisted expression of a circus clown. Gleeful. Yet cold, somehow. Distant. Jason felt shivers run down his spine each time the gigantic woman flashed her teeth in what she probably perceived as a show of good will.
“I’m very impressed, my little lovers. I could… feel… you so much there, and it wasn’t just your little…” she said with a giggle, clearly over the moon with the concept, “…tongues on me, it was your… PASSION…” she sighed deeply, her eyes widening on this last word. “And NOW… your reward… one of you has won the easy job, and the other one of you…” she said, her eyes darting between the two people to try and create some artificial suspicion. “…one of you will have a slightly… harder… job.”
“Oh G-G-G…” stuttered Martha, pulling herself to her feet at last, hardly able to speak as she gagged, still feeling the sickly spicy remnants of Amanda’s ass sweat on her tongue and teeth. “I c-can’t believe we j-just…”
“Shhh…” soothed Amanda, placing a finger over her own lips. “Hush, little Martha. It’s all right now. It’s over. You made it through, and you did a GREAT job,” she said assuredly, smiling gaily. Jason shivered again. The way Amanda spoke reminded him of some twisted, surreal infomercial. Her voice was so calming and cheery, and even soothing, and yet her intentions were so cruel and violent he couldn’t even fathom connecting the two, mentally. Her words were confident, swift, practiced. Almost rehearsed.
“Oh, G-God, PLEASE!” screamed Martha, uncorking her feelings. “You h-have to let us GO!”
Amanda just tsked at her, waggling a disapproving finger. “Now, now, my little wifey, don’t cry… you haven’t heard and seen everything you need to yet… don’t worry, all of this will be over soon.”
“P-Please… please… please…” sobbed Martha more quietly now, not even directly speaking to the monumental woman anymore, but more just to existence itself.
“NOW… I’m sure you’re both wondering who won…” smiled Amanda. “It was pretty clear to me, anyway. One of my cheeks felt almost bone dry,” she said with a smile, loving this fact. “The other… well, I could still feel a few drops. We don’t want that,” she said with a sticky-sweet smile and giggle, completely covering up her dislike. “Jason… congratulations, you got up much more than your wife. YOU get the easy job…” she smiled, reaching her hand down toward him and extending her soft fingers again.
“NO! WAIT!” screamed Jason, terrified now. He had deliberately gone a bit slower when he knew, if his life depended on it, he could have beaten Martha easily in Amanda’s horrific twist on a drinking game. All he wanted was to keep Martha safe, or at least as safe as possible. He wasn’t entirely sure why this was, when she had already allowed him to be beaten mercilessly in Amanda’s fist just because she was completely clueless to the simple facts about her husband. Still, he had been determined, but had also been scared by Amanda’s warning that both husband and wife would be punished severely if she didn’t feel them working intensely with their tongues to clean the sweat off. And now, it seemed he had gone too far.
“Wait for what?” smiled Amanda kindly as she ignored Jason’s request, wrapping her fingers around his flailing body and lifting him up with the effort of a baby hamster. “Don’t be upset with me, Jason. You both had the same chance. I gave you the option. I told you: marriage is all about choices, and making the right one for your partner, even if it’s not the best for you. And I guess that’s just what you did here.”
“No! No, please, just… just let me switch with her.”
“I don’t think I can do that, Jason.”
“PLEASE! L-Look… you said make choices. I’m making one now! Switch us!”
“Ahhh… ta-ta-ta!” cooed Amanda playfully, bringing Jason to a stop at eye level, gripping him more tightly and warming his body with her muscular fingers. “The game’s over. Now, it’s time for everyone to get their prize. You get the easy job. Be happy,” she winked.
“No…” groaned Jason, looking down at his horrified wife, who was glaring up at him. He looked as remorseful as he could, but it didn’t seem to help matters, and plus, he was so high up, it was harder to judge Martha’s facial expressions any longer. Helpless, Jason listened to Amanda as she went through her normal routine of taking a deep breath to get attention before saying what she probably saw as vitally important.
“Martha? Your husband left you in the dust a little bit there, didn’t he?” she asked, receiving no answer from the frozen little naked wife. “That’s okay, though. Now, I’m going to let you turn the tables a little bit. Now… you get to make the choices…” grinned Amanda leaning forward. Martha watched, shaking, as Amanda’s fingers played with the latch of a toolbox that was sitting on the far edge of the table, nearest the wall. She clicked the latches both ways and opened the box, dragging it forward as the lid dropped to the back. Martha couldn’t see it, but from Jason’s vantage point, he was able to make out the contents of the box. He couldn’t see everything, as it was stacked pretty close together, but what he could make out make him raise an eyebrow. A pin cushion. A portable glue gun. A tiny plastic jar of Play-Doh. A pocket knife. A pair of scissors. It didn’t make any sense to Jason, but he didn’t feel particularly like trying to decipher it, for the sake of his own psyche.
Martha soon found out as well, though, as Amanda grasped the edge of the toolbox and tipped it, allowing most of the contents to spill outward and toward the tiny woman, who just barely managed to clamber out of the way before being engulfed by the avalanche of junk. Amanda calmly began rooting through it, pushing aside larger pieces so that everything was revealed on the table. She then retracted her hand, and gave the befuddled Martha a look of serenity and assuming.
“Go ahead, Martha,” said Amanda sweetly. “Pick one out.”
“How do I… what am I supposed to…”
“Just pick one. You’ll see,” smiled Amanda, nodding and waving her hand for Martha to get to work. Martha began wandering between the items, most of which completely dwarfed her body. Finally, she found a small rubber band, with a circumference of only a couple of inches when not stretched. Not having any clue of what was going on or what she was supposed to be picking, Martha pointed uncertainly to the rubber band. Amanda nodded, then lowered her hand toward it, pinching it between two fingers as Martha dodged to the side, afraid of being scooped up again. Tangling the band across her fingernails, Amanda stretched the band as far as she could between her fingers, forming a crude circle as she brought it nearer and nearer to Jason. Then, stopping in front of him, she bent her thumb back against it, stretching it, and released it.
The band smacked against Jason’s face, hitting him squarely on the nose. It was painless for a few strange moments, before the stinging all hit at once, Jason’s nose feeling like it had been stabbed. He grasped it, gasping for breath. Jason wasn’t given much time to recover, though, before Amanda’s powerful thumb was stretching the band back again threateningly.
“Don’t do that!” screeched Martha as the band was slapped hard back against Jason’s face. He blinked, disoriented, and shook his head a few times to try and right himself. The stinging was emanating through his entire face. Amanda gave his body a light squeeze with her fingers as he remained in her overly capable fist, particularly on his genitals, and he felt a slight feeling of tingling as his dick was compressed into the cool flesh of Amanda’s fingers. It almost felt good.
Amanda plopped the rubber band back into the toolbox, clearly removing it from Martha’s use again. “Good choice, Martha. Pick another one now.”
“Why did you DO that?” shrieked the panicking wife, scurrying around amongst the objects like a terrified mouse. “You just told me to pick something!”
“That’s right, Martha. And now I’m telling you to pick something else.”
“But… but…” cried Martha, the tears flowing heavily. “You’ll just hurt him again, no matter what I choose…”
“Then I SUGGEST,” began Amanda with emphasis, “you choose wisely.”
At this, Martha fell to her knees, weeping, holding her face. She could barely contain herself as she realized what her particular punishment was. Amanda looked over at the dizzy Jason still in her warm, intrusive fist as it continued rippling suggestively over his beaten crotch, raising an eyebrow. “See why you have the easy job, Jason?” she smirked knowingly. Jason didn’t respond, partially out of fear and partially out of sheer disorientation. “Come on now, Martha. Pick something else out, or I’ll just have to… decide for myself,” informed Amanda, laying her hand back on the table and thumbing through the objects, before stopping right over a thick, partially rusted nail. She pinched it in her fingers and lifted it up slowly.
“NOT THAT! I… I… I’ll p-pick something!” screamed Martha, getting to work immediately; Amanda nodded and chuckled, dropping the metal nail back on the table. Martha scrambled through the pile, nervously looking up at Amanda, afraid that she would run out of time and have a particularly fatal object chosen for her. Finally, with a gulp, she stopped at the Play-Doh jar and pointed hesitantly, clutching her soaked cheeks again as she shook. It was the best she could find amidst a pile of objects that could very easily slice and dice the vital organs out of someone Jason’s size.
“Thank you, Martha,” said Amanda, popping the lid off with her thumb and bunching the blue moldable mash into her fingers. She jammed her thumb all the way through, smearing her thumbprint across it and softening the interior from its previously hardened state in the jar. Then, flattening it against the heel of her hand, she spread it across her fingers and brought it toward Jason. With a quick gasp that filled his lungs as much as possible, Jason found himself buried in the pancake of children’s clay that was quickly folded around the back of his body as Amanda’s burly fingers balled him up into the clay, spreading it thinly until it covered nearly every square inch of his naked body. As the blue, glue-scented substance began to thicken against his face, and his air began to run low, Jason opened his mouth and chewed quickly through the thin layer of Play-Doh that covered his mouth, spitting the foul-tasting crumb out into the depths of space far below him. Finally able to breathe through the tiny hole, Jason cringed against the thick, encasing wall of thick goop as Amanda began squeezing his body, kneading the bumpy stuff into his skin so hard it actually began to produce warmth. At first comforting to his chilled nude self, Jason soon felt Amanda’s hard fingertips actually producing enough friction through the clay that his skin began to feel hot. Then it started to hurt.
Jason grunted loudly through the opening, gasping in fresh air, then felt his mind reel wildly as Amanda pressed a lump of Play-Doh against his crotch so hard he was almost sure as it happened she would render him unable to reproduce. Raw stinging began to emanate along his thighs, and he cringed, kicking his clay-covered heels against Amanda’s palm, but quickly found these pinned down by her capable fingers. As he grunted again, he was heard, and Amanda happily smoothed a fresh, thicker layer of clay over his mouth before continuing to rub the stuff so thickly into Jason’s body that bruises started forming all along his chest and limbs.
Satisfied at last with this round, Amanda began peeling the blue sarcophagus of goop away from Jason’s body. His bruised body flopped against her fingers, quivering. He ran his hands cautiously over his legs, trying to massage them as they cramped, but this quickly threw him into deeper agony as he touched a few more sensitive areas, so he quickly retracted. This plan was thrown off, though, as Amanda helpfully obliged his original idea and began to knead his abs with her curled middle finger, sending him into a series of painful convulsions that she helped keep in check by pinning him down.
Martha, horrified by this sight, stumbled backward and tripped on a white plastic handle.
“Excellent choice, Martha,” smiled Amanda gleefully, reaching down toward the object.
“What…” mumbled Martha, turning around to find that she had made contact with the glue gun. “STOP! I didn’t choose THIS!”
“I beg to differ, Martha. Now, if you’ll just give me some room here…” continued Amanda, indifferent. Martha stood her ground in front of the gun, but was easily thrown to the side as Amanda tossed the newly balled up Play-Doh ball onto her from a safe distance, allowing it to bowl over her like a striped pin. With the powerless woman out of the way, Amanda grabbed up the gun in her hand, clicked it to the on switch, and tapped at the trigger a few times to warm up the device.
Jason opened his eyes to find himself staring into the gigantic, orange-pointed barrel of the glue gun poised directly over his body. Out of instinct, he gripped at the soft skin bed he was laid across in Amanda’s palm, his eyes darting from side to side. He stared deeply into Amanda’s pupils, searching for a sign. Anything. That it was a joke. A hoax. Something.
Nothing.
Amanda, without any more hesitation, squeezed the trigger lightly on the glue gun, burying Jason under a steaming pile of scalding, translucent glue that instantly began to harden around his stomach and legs. She moved it all over, drizzling his entire body in so much hot glue that it covered his entire upper body, legs, and even part of his arms, gluing him right onto her hand.
Jason screamed.