This is the worst, Chocan thought. This is hell. I’m in hell.

As much as he adored the giantess, nothing could have compelled him to enter her private chamber where she makes waste. His imagination flashed with scenes from the toilet’s pool, as he looked up to see her huge anus flex and gape open, to release tremendous chunks of dark brown waste. And now he was inside her, on the other side of that large and puckered orifice. Not only that, but he was being battered under the relentless blows of an enormous penis.

Douglas growled to himself, savagely gripping his wife’s fat ass. His thick cock tugged at her wrinkled ring, drawing it in with every cruel thrust, pulling it out dryly along his shaft with every withdrawal. He only barely registered the tantalizing clench of her asshole, clamped around his cock. His primary thought was to pummel that irritating little man into paste and stuff him all the way back into his woman’s shithole.

Loretta whimpered and tried to control her breathing. She pleaded with him, for all the good that did: Douglas seemed beside himself. Now she had to force herself to relax, to loosen up her anus or else this would really hurt. She was shocked at him. Even at his most drunken moments, he had never forced himself on her. He had certainly never put his cock in her butt without express permission.

“Douglas, please stop. Now.” Her words hitched with every bestial thrust into her asshole.

“Not now,” he growled, behind her. His palms slapped her ass harder than she liked, then his nails bit into her flesh.

“Douglas, husband,” she gasped, “please stop. You’re hurting me.”

“Just… one more minute. Darling.”

Her breath shuddered and she clenched her eyes shut. She struggled to force her asshole to please relax, not resist the violation of his monstrous, veiny cock. “Where is that poor little man, Douglas?” But she knew the answer to this, and she could almost feel him struggling within her.

Chocan had seized enough air to last a while, and he was as far back as the grotesque penis should shove him. He disciplined himself to relax for a moment, let the event play out while he saved his strength. This could only go one way, he knew, and so he only had to wait it out.

Still. He tried not to think about lying crumpled in the inner recesses of a gigantic woman’s rectum. He tried not to think about the mixture of vaginal secretion and feces in his hair, coating his entire body. It was much harder to avoid thinking about vile Douglas’ huge penis, as the thick head of it rammed into his face and chest, over and over.

Then the head of the penis rushed up and rested against Chocan. It held still, its spongy mass spreading over his stomach, chest, upper arms and face. It held there for a moment as Chocan seized his breath and slowly turned his head to one side.

Hot, thick syrup flooded the narrow chamber. It blasted against Chocan’s cheek and ear and ran down his neck and shoulders. The head of the penis began some short, quivering thrusts, and the hot syrup churned and frothed around the tiny forager’s body. It oozed between his thighs and around his waist. There was so much of it, it began to take on some weight. The weight of Douglas’ sickening cum was pressing down all over Chocan’s skin.

The tiny man, deep within the cavern of the giantess’ ass, clenched his fists and held still for as long as his lungs would permit him. That part’s over, he thought grimly.

Douglas’ throaty roar filled the bedroom. His fingernails retracted from his wife’s abused flesh, leaving burning red crescent-marks all over her pale, fragile skin. The roar guttered out into a strangled whine, and he bent in half. He would have collapsed upon Loretta’s back, as she strained to remain up on all fours, but his enormous belly was in the way, so he only hunched pathetically over her ample buttocks.

“Are you done,” Loretta hissed over her shoulder.

The hairy oaf began to lean to one side. His cock, thinner and pliant, slipped out of her anus with a pop. Douglas let his full weight crash to the mattress, beside his wife. She bounced a bit, then ambled to the side of the bed. Her husband moaned quietly, one meaty hand massaging his expended sexual organ, and she regarded him with rising distaste.

Loretta stood beside the bed, unsure what to do. She squatted over the mattress, her small hands desperately groping her buttocks and tugging them apart as best she could. She didn’t know what muscles to flex. A thin ribbon of murky cum-mixture ran from her asshole and soaked into the sheets.

Frowning, she trotted off to the bathroom. Through hazy, bloodshot eyes, Douglas watched her delightfully full, round hips waggling on out the door. He rolled to his back and gulped down huge, gratifying gasps of air, all emotion draining from him as though it bled out of his back and into the absorbent mattress.

Loretta planted her ample buttocks upon the toilet seat once more. “I’m so sorry about this,” she whispered, almost like a prayer, clenching her insides. She hoped to God she wasn’t hurting him, but she couldn’t imagine any other way to free him.

A solid mass inside her ass began to slide. It moved from within and gradually worked its way toward her orifice. Loretta’s eyes went wide as she tried to interpret this sensation: was she shitting or was Chocan alive and making his way out? When her anus began to tickle and twitch, she guessed his tiny hands had thrust out and were groping at her sensitive skin. Quickly she tore off some toilet paper and held it beneath her. She could at least spare him another dump in icy water.

She felt something gently plucking at the tissue resting on her fingertips, and then a dozen grams of tiny person tumbled out. She caught him in her hand easily, leaped from the toilet and ran some hot water. All the while, she whispered tender apologies to her little hero. She pleaded for his health and praised him for his bravery and endurance. Her hands frothed over with soapy suds as she assured him how much she loved him.

Love. That word penetrated the wool that swaddled his consciousness. Warm, clean water gushed over his limbs, and when he dared to open his eyes, the goddess of love hovered overhead once more, holding him within the shrine of her golden tresses.

Douglas faded in and out of consciousness. His hips tingled warmly with satisfaction, and he would have loved to fall asleep, letting his spent cock dribble down his thigh, but there was something he had to attend to. Between the booze soaking his brain and the explosive release of sexual pressure, he couldn’t quite recall what it was. It was something important.

He heard his wife’s footsteps thumping back into the room. He rolled to one shoulder and labored to raise his head. “Loretta, darling.” His voice was drowsy and his lips were uncooperative. “What am I forgetting? There’s something…” It was just too much work to think, so he plaintively gazed up at his wife.

She towered over him, standing beside the bed. Her hands were cupped close to her chest. From them, a tiny little man shakily rose to his feet. Chocan braced himself on Loretta’s fingertip and stood between her tremendous breasts.

“That’s it,” Douglas said, smiling crookedly. “Gimme that little asshole. Gonna fix him once and for all.”

He didn’t notice the thunderstorm-dark expression on his wife’s face. He watched her raise her palms up to her face, and he watched the tiny man calmly turn and bury his head between her puckered lips. Chocan held his face in there for a long time, stroking her upper lip with his palms. Loretta’s lips gently pulsed around his head, and her eyes fluttered shut as she held him there.

When they were done, the tiny man turned back to peer down at Douglas from his high perch. Loretta slowly opened her eyes and glowered down at her husband.

Douglas said, “You win,” and collapsed into a deep and drooling slumber.

The bed was large enough that she didn’t have to sleep close to him. She kicked him to the furthest edge, then settled down and pulled the sheets over herself and her tiny man. She rested him in her cleavage and lay on her side. One massive breast tumbled gently upon the little warrior’s body. For once, he was sandwiched in her body not in comedy, not in punishment, but in a bed of affection. The giantess’ breath washed over his head as she drifted to sleep, and when his heart calmed down sufficiently, Chocan slept as well.