They say that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

The two women wielded a power over others that had never been seen before in the history of mankind and would never be seen again.

What had started with a single foolish young man and his quickly murdered friend had since billowed into a harvest of tens, then hundreds, then over a thousand innocent souls.

As with any resource surplus, as Beth and Rachel captured more shrunken humans the value of those human lives in their possession lessened.

Not that either woman had placed much value on the lives of others in the first place.

Beth sat on the floor of her room, naked and resplendent.

Her legs were spread wide, a length of red silk ribbon coiling around her wrist, drawn in by the fingers of her left hand.

Her right was between her legs. A single finger pushed into her womanhood, providing a fulcrum behind which the silk ribbon hissed. She gasped as it kissed her clitoris, the gentle sensation adding to the joy of her game.

The opposite end of the ribbon trailed across the floor until it met a group of shrunken people.

They were all naked, with tiny steel rings around their throats. The ribbon threaded through these rings like a leash around a dog’s neck.

Red faced and screaming, Beth watched serenely as they fought for their lives.

Her movements were gentle and gradual. With each twist of her wrist, the group were dragged forwards.

Most pulled and resisted, tricking themselves into believing this was a tug of war they could win. Others shuffled forwards, hands clasped before them in prayer to the Goddess who drew them to their doom. One was lying on the floor, possibly already dead, being dragged at the back like a sausage on a link.

Their cries were intoxicating, Beth bit her lip as they moved above her knees.

She gasped, a squeal of delight following as one grabbed on to the inside of her thigh. Its tiny hands scrabbled at her skin, trying to gain purchase as if it could stop the inevitable.

Nothing they could do could stop her.

She was a hundred times their size with more strength in one finger than they held in all their bodies combined.

They were insects, she was a God.

This became no more apparent as the first tiny body pushed against her hot, wet pussy.

She purred as another joined it, dragged to the right of her finger, the digit manipulating them inside of her.

The sensation was amazing, better than she could imagine as human after human was swallowed by her womanhood. Inside of her they writhed like a single mass, arms and legs and mouths and heads fighting to escape, for air.

She flattened her palm, scooping the stragglers and leaning back as she used her fingers to force them as deep as possible inside of her.

Many were dead already, crushed under the force of her pulsing walls. Others were dying, their lungs filled with her juices. There were screams but the sounds were muffled by her flesh and lost beneath her own cries of pleasure.

There was blood on her fingers now, the iron hard appendages pushing effortlessly through the mass of humanity, reducing them to a bloody paste already diluted by the wetness of her womanhood.

Her back arched, her nipples like rosebuds as she thrust herself towards orgasm. Her free hand gripped her sheets, her voice crying out like a choir of angels.

In under a minute, every one of her victims had died inside of her, their remains desecrated until nothing of their humanity remained. The red ribbon hung loose from her wrist as she came, waves of pleasure pushing her onto her back.

On the cool floor of her room her chest heaved, sweat prickling her skin.

She purred with pleasure, lifting the ribbon into the light. The morning sun danced on the once silver loops, now each one a violent crimson.

Of the captives they held, nothing remained.

Still held in post orgasmic glow, she cast a bleary eye around the room.

Many of the cages were empty, it had been a while since they had been out on a collection. What few victims remained looked at her with the wide-eyed horror she had become accustomed to.

Each prisoner knew just how easily their lives could have ended this morning. They lived only because they had missed her questing fingers, she found them amusing or had other plans for them.

It helped to have a crowd of people for their games, faceless nobodies that would serve and die at their pleasure.

The days of hunting down those they knew were long gone. Anyone from their past who they wanted to torment had disappeared down their throats or beneath their shoes years ago.

Rachel still had a couple left, suspended in some endless torment or drugged into mindless servitude however none had survived Beth.

None other than James of course and James served his own purposes.

The people they owned now were nothing to them, strangers they had picked up on their road trips around the tri-state area. They would jump in Rachel’s car, spend a few nights going hotel to hotel, pawnshop to pawnshop, bar to bar.

Anyone they could get away with taking, they took. Anything of value their victims owned or had access to they pawned. They were always careful not to go to the same area twice, always careful not to sell anything unique that might be traceable.

Their last trip had been over a month ago and they had only collected half of what they had hoped for. The media was still in a frenzy, as it had been for years now. People walked home alone less often these days lest they be taken by ‘The Mary Celeste’.

Beth still loved that name; it was both so classy and spooky.

It gave the idea that there was something otherworldly, supernatural, about them. Perhaps there was.

Nobody in their right mind would consider that a young, slim brunette like Rachel had once walked into a carpet factory on the edge of a nowhere town, crushed the security guard beneath the toe of her converse and then shrunk the entire workforce in less than five minutes.

As always, the CCTV had been wiped, the tiny bloodstain that had been the guard cleaned up and forty people captured.

If Beth could remember correctly; the people Rachel had taken from the carpet place had been turned, alongside others, into a carpet themselves.

She had been talking about it for a while, at first toying with the idea of stitching through their bodies and sewing them together into a flat sheet before deciding on just connecting them with thread at the wrists and ankles.

The result was surreal; a screaming, flesh coloured sheet she had strewn across the floor of her room.

The plan, now all pretence of their passion for each other had been dropped, was that the two women would fuck atop it, their lovemaking cushioned by a hundred or so shrunken bodies.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to be. The carpet of souls had taken Rachel two hours to weave and only two minutes to destroy.

She had fallen in drunk and giggling, staggering into her room.

Forgetting the mass of suffering that screamed up at her, her platform heel had landed almost square in the centre of the carpet.

The shifting surface caused the giant woman to stagger, her other shoe slamming down into them, smearing their bodies as she became entangled.

They flipped into the air, a bloody rag kicked across the room as she landed on the bed and passed out.

Those that remained the following morning could only scream as their hungover Goddess, now dressed in fluffy PJs scowled down at them.

Her barefoot lifted as she rubbed sleep out of her eye and began her grisly work.

In seconds the carpet was nothing but thread and paste, a mash of flesh abandoned and forgotten as Rachel went in search of coffee.

Lisa would ensure the mess was cleaned from the floors, following Rachel’s bloody footprints into the living room.

A handful of slaves would already be cleaning the blood from their Goddess’ foot. Tears streaming down their faces, they would lick away the human remains while she scrolled through social media.

Beth knew the carpet had used up most of Rachel’s shrunken slaves and her lover would be keen to replace them. Rachel had a hunger for torment, never going a day without bloodshed and would not want to wait long before acquiring more sacrifices.

Luckily the two women had already made plans, big plans.