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ATLAS OF THE BITCHES
By ChuckCJC




The Castle was a monstrosity. And she bought it just because; because it was huge, because it was ancient; because it seemed to grow out of the gloomy island and because it would cost him - dearly. So when it came on the market at the same time of her divorce she decided to sue the cheating bastard for almost all he had - annually. After all he had it. If she had to send him to the poor house in the process, so much more the merrier.

Æ Æ Æ

Joan was smiling once again, her face in every tabloid across the globe. Headlines proclaimed "Superbitch breaks the bank" and "Joan sues ex-hubby's for ALL OF IT!!!". It reminded of her a decade ago when she was the biggest bitch on television. Back then she was so popular - over here as well as the states, but after a few seasons her charm fizzled and her sex appeal faded with age. She went back home where she met and married Charles, fat and pompous but wealthy beyond belief. The two of them made even more money together. Unfortunately for Joan, Charles thought of her as nothing more than an image to front his company Her ex-husband was a shipping tycoon who had made his money importing everything from Cashew nuts and autos to Cocaine and military style weapons. He had a gorgeous teen-age model from the west coast who he kept in several apartments around the world for his "trips". Joan had figured it out long ago but she had to be sure. Some time later she found a pair of pumps that didn't fit her or her husband as well as some snapshots in a wooden chest in the back of the closet, but instead of getting angry, Joan just smiled.

Charles' money kept him from prison when his empire fell but she left him with a sliver and walked off with the whole pie. The divorce made headlines. Now she was on top of the world once again and nothing could feel any better, or could it?

Æ Æ Æ

It was said that the castle was built at a time when magic was song of the Earth. Weather or not there was any truth to it Joan could have really cared less. It was worth more than a pot of gold or a fairies enchanted ass. It was old and ugly and filled with far fetched rumors. It was a solid investment. It was a legendary place for a woman who considered herself a legend. Away from everyone in the world, it was a castle for the wicked queen.

She moved into it after the contractors had fixed it up to her specifications. She also acquired a maid, not an old crone as she was told by so many of her old friends to hire, but rather a young and strikingly quiet girl, The old ones had a tendency of talking your ears off about nothing and not doing a damn thing all day. That was Joan's job, all the money in the world had made her quite complacent to do nothing but eat whatever her servant cooked for her and drink the finest wines money could buy and fill the cellar rest of them.

Æ Æ Æ

It was on a June morning that Joan woke up in a pool of sweat. It was ungodly hot and the air conditioner was not working at all.

"Yvette! Yvette!" She yelled, her voice aroused a hangover she didn't want to remember.

There was a gentle sound of knocking.

"Oh don't knock! Just come in! Didn't you hear me calling you!"

A mousy blonde face peered into the doorway.

"Are you going to stand there or are you going to call someone to fix the goddamn air-conditioner?"

Joan stopped for a second. She thought it strange, it was so hot inside yet Yvette was shaking.

"What's wrong with you? You look like the world has ended." Joan quipped.

There was only silence, then the girl spoke:

"I think it has."

"What? What in Heavens name-"

"I tried calling - calling any one but the phone does nothing."

"Of course you bafoon! Can't you see that the electric is off?"

Yvette's'' face was filled with a look of urgency.

"I went to drive into town to get tissues and toilet paper because we have none in the house, but when I went to opened the garage door - there was nothing there."

"What do you mean nothing!" Joan demanded.

"Nothing but fog everywhere."

Joan sat up in bed and pulled her nightie back to cover her tit. She walked over to the window and threw it open. Outside it was nothing but thick white smoke. It was always a little misty on the island, but this all seemed out of the ordinary She turned to yell at the girl some more and it hit her - where was the sound of the ocean?

"I got in the Bentley, opened the garage door and started to go and the front of the car just dropped to the floor, like nothing was underneath it. I thought the wheels fell off and I slammed on the brake. There was nothing outside, just this fog."

Perhaps it was a trick, or perhaps she was still drunk, there was one way to find out. The old woman walked over to her night table and grabbed an 18th century porcelain washbowl that she was given as a wedding present. She stepped to the window, threw it out and waited. No sound, she listened for a moment longer, then without a word she walked out of the room. Yvette ran after her but never said a word.

Down the steps and into the main hall, Joan opened the huge wooden door to the front of the keep, she looked and saw nothing but mist.

Carefully she stuck her left foot outside and found the first step with her toes, then the second step and finely the third, but when she stuck her foot out for the ground, Joan felt nothing. She thought that she would fall into forever if she lost her balance. The woman planted her feet on the steps then turned around and ran back into her home.

"Where's that goddamn phone?" she thought and remembered she left in the wine cellar after calling a friend in Hollywood last night.

At the door to the basement she slipped on a pair of Dr. Shoals sandals that she left in the kitchen by the foot of the stairs. As Joan opened the door she thought that maybe the basement had disappeared too and she would go tumbling into nothing. She peered down into the basement, it was pitch black.

Yvette was busy with an old transistor radio that only seem to pick up static.

"I used this yesterday at the beach, I just put new batteries in" Yvette said with a perplexed look on her face.

"Give me a flash light."

Yvette stopped twisting the dials and looked around the kitchen.

"There's a candle on the table."

Taking the candle, Joan light the wick with a jeweled lighter next to her cigarettes on the kitchen table. Then she took a cigarette and light it also then pointed the candle into the blackness-

It was just as it should have been; dark. Joan walked down the steps slowly, the wooden soles of her shoes clacked against the stone stairs. Yvette followed her with a matching candle from the table.

It was just enough to see more than just shadows with the two candles burning. Joan stopped for a second and saw something moving on the floor, she thought it was from the candle flickering, but she looked closer, It was some kind of tiny insect, or something, she couldn't tell, and she didn't care. Joan had crushed it under her right foot when she heard Yvette call out to her.

"Madame! Look at this old book."

Joan turned her head down and saw the edges of a large dusty tome that she had never remembered seeing right in the middle of the floor before. With a deep breath, Yvette blew the dust from the cover, both women read the gold lettered title:

World Atlas

Nothing more.

Joan took a long drag off her cigarette as Yvette opened the cover. There was a sudden splinter of static from the radio, Yvette almost dropped the book from her hands. Joan reached over to the top of the wine rack and tuned in some soft music.

"What a beautiful book, the pictures look so real" Yvette spoke turning the pages and admiring them quickly, then she stopped.

Æ Æ Æ

At sixty six, Charles Willow was a lucky man. He was wise enough to keep several accounts strictly in his name, out of the country and virtually untouchable; more over, away from his greedy witch of an ex-wife. It had given him an opportunity to get away while he still could and move to somewhere more exotic. He sat on a chair by the edge of the pool at the Blue Dolphin Hotel and sipped on his fifth gin and tonic, glaring at the seductive blonde tanning next to him.

Chandi was a petite knockout from the west coast with a body that would not quit and a face that launched a thousand advertising campaigns. She was intelligent as well as sexy, but she would never get anywhere in life if she let on to it, especially if Charlie found out. But how much money did Charlie have left for her? she wondered as she flipped through the pages of the tabloid.

"Your ex-wife is a real bitch. She's got your balls roasting over the pit!" She scolded him like he were an idiot.

"That whore won't burn me!" He roared back. "I still own this island!"

Chandi didn't seem at all impressed, she glanced back into her paper rolled her eyes at Charlie, who threw is lime into the pool.

The two of them stopped for a moment, There was some commotion on the beach, there seemed to be an eclipse and the booming of thunder.

Æ Æ Æ

Joan picked up a balloon glass that she had left down there last night. She filled it with cabernet and swirled it around the glass as she watched Yvette holding her finger close to her face her mouth was gaping with a slight smile.

"Look!" the girl sounded in awe "Where I touched the map", my fingertip is wet."

Joan looked at the page not expecting anything, instead she was greeted with a slap in the face. Ripples slowly etched themselves off the page. Yvette was pointing at some little spot on the map that no bigger than her thumbnail. It was mostly flat and almost mossy looking, with a tiny mound rising on one end.

"Isn't that the little island that your husband took off to?" Yvette asked.

"Ex-husband!" Joan corrected as she took a large gulp of wine

Without concern, Joan snubbed her cigarette butt out on the page, right where the island was pictured. She smiled as she blew smoke over the page. Yvette looked up at her and there was a long pause as the picture of the island seemed to be crumbling.

"Look at that! Did you see what just happened!?" Yvette stood with her mouth wide open.

Joan didn't have to answer the girl who bought her groceries and scrubbed her toilets, she just gulped down another mouthful of red wine.

There was static coming from the radio, and then:

"-breaking news story - Just moments ago a series of tidal waves rocked Mahi Island in the south sea," A radio announcer interrupted; there was some confusion at the station "By what!?"

Yvette looked over at Joan with pupils, wide like a cat in the darkness. Joan was smiling and looking down at the page.

"You don't think?" Yvette smiled.

An expression of sheer pleasure emerged on Joan's face when the next report came over the radio:

Æ Æ Æ

"- A distress signal from an Aircraft Carrier in the vicinity and then at first reports stated that the volcano on the end of the island had erupted. Carylin Crowley is a reporter from Style Television, she was on assignment at the world famous 'Blue Dolphin' and she is standing by:"

There were strange noises of interference for a moment and then a very professional female voice came on over the sounds of human panic in the background.

"This Carylin Crowley on Mahi Island - reporting poolside from what's left of the five star 'Blue Dolphin Hotel'. None of the vacationers on this tropical paradise can seem to understand what just happened here...."

Æ Æ Æ

"That page-" Joan said looking at her shocked servant. "- Tear it out."

Yvette carefully knelt down and obeyed her employer.

"Put it on the floor."

Tiny streams of liquid seemed to drip down from the corners as she pulled. Her hand let go delicately as the girl laid the page on the dirt floor of the basement.

The next voice on the radio was almost too familiar to Joan. It was some little insects turd squeaking into the microphone, obviously a little drunk as usual, behind him, tiny shrills of terror from two other puny germs that were mixed with the clamor on the beach.

Joan's' stood over the over the page, her feet on either side of it, she put her hands on her hips and looked down. The reception on the radio was crystal clear. She licked her lips, took another gulp of wine and smiled wickedly as she raised her left foot over the page, keeping the heel of her sandal down on the musty floor. The image of the tiny island still smoldered with the cigarette butt snubbed out on a tiny mountain top. Joan pivoted her foot and admired 24K gold clasp of her white leather Dr. Shoals and the deep red of her nail polish as she spread her toes. A great shadow darkened the page. Yvette gasped as the tiny sounds of terror coming from the radio were drowned out by the noise of the island being crushed.

Little wisping clouds dispersed beside the wooden sole of her sandal as she put her foot onto the page and gave a few deliberate twists. A damp crumpled mess of paper was all that was left. The island was gone - sunk somewhere under her footprint. Joan took a dusty bottle of wine from the rack and was about to go back upstairs when she noticed a little speck crawling on the basement floor near the book. She bent down to get a closer look, it was a tiny black sugar ant. She was about to squish it with her index finger but she picked it up, pinching it gently between her thumb and first finger. She dropped it into her empty wine glass, The woman marched up the stairs triumphantly.

"Give me the telephone, and go get me a cigarette." Joan called down to the girl as she pawing her moist vagina. "Call the prime minister and tell him that 'The Queen Giant' will now instruct her tiny subjects."

Æ Æ Æ

She was going to enjoy her little trinkets. Having all the money in the world, that was just hopelessly boring, but this, This was what she really wanted.

"Yes. That's right, 10,000 feet high, and solid gold." Joan laughed into the phone "No! Not just one, I'm going to need at least a dozen for my charm bracelet. Oh! You don't believe me then?" she giggled, "Well then, I guess I'll just have to show then wont I?"

She clicked off the phone and took a swig of wine from a large bottle. Yvette stared at her with an evil grin.

"What are you going to do to them?" The girl asked.

"What does it matter, I'll do whatever I please." Joan smiled.

"We can rule the world with this thing." Yvette smiled.

Suddenly Joan became enraged and pushed the girl down to the floor .

"I'll rule the world thank you!" Joan corrected. "Your still my servant!"

She reached over and grabbed the book from the elegant end table she had placed it earlier. She opened a drawer and took out a magnifying glass. The woman turned a few pages and looked down into the second smaller lens. Yvette was apologizing but Joan didn't seem be listening.

"Well my tiny slaves." Joan thundered at the open book. "Where are my statues! The giant golden statues for your giant god queen? It's time to show you tiny microbes just how worthless your lives really are."

Joan took the empty wine glass and turned it over above the page, the last drop of wine carried off the little ant and rolled him down the side of the glass onto a tiny web of criss crossed lines. When Joan looked down again into the magnifying glass she could see all kinds of hell breaking loose.

"Let me see!" Yvette said with an amused smile.

Joan got up and grabbed the television remote, she turned it on. There were live pictures coming in, the city was in flames, entire blocks were being wiped out with each step the insect took, there were people running and screaming, fighter jets and tanks in full scale attack but they did nothing. She laughed and watched as an entire city fought in vain against an ant that was a dozen kilometers in length.

It reminded her of a B-Movie she had starred in years back only the special effects in this far better than she expected. She became totally absorbed in the images on the screen. Joan was rubbing the edge of the remote against her labia. There was a spectacular shot of the parliament building reduced to rubble. Suddenly there was a huge flash on the screen. Joan and Yvette both looked down at the map and saw a tiny light like a match glowing in slow motion. They little people of earth had struck back at her colossal beast. The ant seemed to fall in pieces onto the ground below. Joan felt cheated out of her fun.

"Well they want to play that way do they?" She sneered turning towards Yvette who was standing beside her. "Crush them girl!"

Obediently, Yvette stepped down on the page with the sole of her black strap pump. when she moved her foot away, Great Britain was a muddy footprint.

Æ Æ Æ

The two women laughed as they watched the news broadcasts throughout the day. Joan's picture was all over every station, as were leaders of almost all nations discussing what options if any were left open to them. Most of them agreed that the military could do nothing. An emergency meeting would be held at the United Nations later in the day to decide how to handle the situation. The world was suddenly silent as everyone waited for what would happen next.

Æ Æ Æ

An hour later, Joan was so drunk and ecstatic she didn't even care about the giant statuettes she had demanded earlier. She was busy tearing pages from the book and dropping them down at her feet.

"What's this one?" Joan slurred.

"Indonesia, I think." Yvette answered.

"Wrong!" Joan laughed as she tore it out and crumpled it in her fist. "It's garbage!" She threw it across the floor.

Joan began pulling another page out when she spoke half drunk. "Start putting these together." She pointed at the papers on the floor. "Put them together so I can have the world at my feet!"

Joan's laughter suddenly changed into awe. She had come to the middle of the book and there was a small glowing sun on center of the page. It was beautiful and warm, shining like golden torch in the blackness and Joan had to have it.

Yvette turned to see Joan's face glowing in yellow light as she reached her hand in.

"Are you allright?" Yvette suddenly asked.

"I feel very str..." The pitch of the woman's voice rose.

Yvette watched as her mistress started to become smaller and smaller. The book was becoming too large and heavy for her to hold anymore and Joan fell from the chair and down onto a page on the floor In no less than ten seconds Joan was as small as the tiny sugar ant she had found. The old woman was still very much an enormous giantess to the rest of the world, but Yvette saw it from another perspective.

Yvette put the hands to her hips as she walked over to her tiny mistress, towering above her like a mountain range. The girl smiled down as she stuck the sole of her shoe over the tiny Joan and brought it just above her. The tiny woman seemed to be pleading.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't squash you under my foot!" Yvette laughed.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Yvette turned and she heard it again.

"Joan! Let me in goddamit!" It was the voice of a woman with an American accent.

Yvette looked back down at the speck of Joan and pointer her finger down at her. The girl started grabbing the pages on the floor frantically.

"Who's there?" Yvette called out.

"Open the door you little shit!" The woman called back.

Yvette recognized that voice, she had heard it many times in movies. The girl walked over to the door and opened it just a crack. Standing there was a gorgeous middle aged woman glaring at her. Yvette was flustered as the maps of a dozen countries fell from her hand and scattered on the floor of the foyer.

"Where the hell is Joan? I started coming up the steps to surprise her and this cloud of smoke - I was out there when that goddamn earthquake hit just before!"

Raquel wedged her white jeweled sandal in the door, smushing the Pacific Northwest as she forced her way in. Before Yvette could stop her, the glamorous woman walked to the center of the room, trampling more of the pages in under her soles.

"Where's the goddamn toilet! I've had to shit ever since I ate all that prime rib on the flight over!"

Raquel stomped her foot down on India.

"Did you just hear what I asked you?" She demanded. "What is this mess anyway?" Raquel tore the paper as she dragged it under her sole. "Ah! There it is, right behind this door."

"This garbage on your floor is getting soggy. Maybe you should pick it up?" Raquel instructed her as she marched over the North Atlantic towards the water closet.

Yvette walked back to the page where she last saw Joan. The tiny woman was still there, still alive. The girl scrambled to pick the pages back up. Just then Yvette saw Raquel standing in the living room in her white leather jacket and matching micro-mini. Raquel's panties dangled at her ankle, the powder pink color matched the woman's toenail polish. The girl was eye level with the actress' pussy, little drops of pee were trickling and dripping all over Europe.

"There's no water in the bowl and there's no goddamn toilet paper in there!" She hollered down at Yvette. "Gimme those!"

Raquel snatched the pages from Yvette's' hand and stormed across the maps still on the floor.

Yvette watched through the keyhole as the beautiful actress sat for a while on the toilet, looking through the maps on by one and placing them down at her feet.

"This is soaking wet!" She yelled as she crumpled the South China sea into a ball, dropped it on the floor and angrily stomped it.

Then Raquel took the last page in her hand and looked at it as she stood up.

"Someone is drawing little tiny stick figures on this map." Raquel spoke to her self, suddenly her eyes widened "Ew! It's moving!" She yelled.

Yvette knelt down by the door with both hands up her skirt as she watched.

Raquel pursed her lips and blew on the page. The tiny Joan dropped to the white marble floor in a tiny cloud of dust. Raquel saw the tiny woman land beside the toe of her sandal. She was trying to scurry away when Raquel stepped on her like a bug. The beautiful woman's' mouth formed a gorgeous smile as she scrunched the paper into a ball and wiped her ass clean, but as she was about to throw the page in to the toilet, she suddenly stopped. Raquel was kneeling, looking down at the floor, her eyes followed it's movements.

"I thought I squashed you!" Raquel said as she dabbed the used side of the toilet paper on the speck then threw it in with her large brown turd. She had tired the chain when she came in and it wouldn't work, she didn't even consider flushing now.

Yvette wiped her hands on her thighs and ran off into the living room to gather what was left of the world. Raquel walked in and sat down on Joan's favorite chair, reached for the television remote and turned it on. It was some kind of disaster movie, the effects were incredible, the camera spun upwards. It was a monster move. It was Joan, miles tall, trampling down on the city. She was running and her toes were bigger than city blocks. It looked so realistic.

"Ha! I've never seen this one before!"

Raquel took off her leather jacket as she watched the scene come to an abrupt end as sky became brown. She crossed her legs and was about to pull off one of her sandals when she saw something on the television. Far off in the distance, the glamorous woman recognized another object higher than any cloud on the horizon, it was the jeweled inlayed sole of her shoe. She could see on the screen red letters flashing, "STATE OF EMERGENCY"

"What the fuck.." Raquel starred at the screen and looked down at the papers the girl hurried to gather.

"Let me see those!" Raquel demanded as she rose from the chair.

The woman walked over a page on the floor and put the tips of her toes into the pacific ocean, it was cool and tingling. Then Raquel measured her foot next to the west coast.

"My foot is a couple sizes bigger than the state of California!" She laughed

As the woman glanced over to the television she could see live pictures coming from somewhere, from some city, she really didn't seem to care, she was busy admiring the jewels in the sole sandals high above the skyline. Some of the stones were so tiny, but above clouds they sparkled like new suns in the sky. As Raquel moved her foot just above the page she could see the gigantic tip of her big toe on the screen, extending past her sole and blotting out the skies above the cities. Raquel was so amused she almost didn't notice that the tiny skyscrapers were burning and mobs of microscopic people were running wild in the streets.

She turned to Yvette with a glowing look on her face as she stood with her hands on her hips and her foot covering the entire state.

"Call the U.N. and tell them I want a pedicure, oh and Yvette, go pull are little friend out of the toilet for me, my sandal straps are filthy."

 

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