It seemed like the weather had calmed down, at least for today. It was going to be mild out, that was what the weather report said. Jay honestly put at least some faith in how accurate the weatherman would be, because at least here on this godforsaken island they were honest with when the shitty days would be.

Even doing deliveries to this school, Jay Smith hadn't liked the look of the place, but he'd everyday warmed to it. His first impression had been that there were more delinquent shits here than at any other private school he'd ever heard of, and yet just to get the permit to live here he'd had to go through a background check that knew his elementary school records. It was almost as asinine as trying to live anywhere near his ex, but at least here what was his was his. And, as bad as some of the teenage fucks were, the better ones would generally hang out with him whenever they were out on trips away from the academy. 

There was one other benefit to living where the rest of the civilized world left you alone . . . her. Rebecca Sullivan was a knockout beauty, she talked like she ran a phone sex line, she walled with an arrogant strut that put her body on display, and she was only fucking nineteen. The fact that she'd put out an all-inclusive call for dates basically seemed to be rolling out the red carpet for Jay, and he couldn't wait to find out more about this girl.

The door swung open just as Jay arrived, and slate-gray gray eyes looked ever-so-slightly up at the 36-year-old trucker. "I would assume that you are a Mr. Jay Smith?" She asked, her tone neutral, her voice soft and welcoming. 

Jay merely nodded, looking over the redhead. 5'11", barely an inch shorter than himself. He liked tall women- although just how tall was between him and his Internet browser history- and the lovely lady definitely filled that quota. She was dressed in a sundress with a low neckline, calling attention to her ample cleavage, which Jay idly eyed as either a larger C cup or a smaller D, he wasn't quite sure. 

"Good, let's not waste time with idle chatter," Rebecca nodded, turning around and leading Jay into her disorganized room. Not quite a mess, but clothes and some scientific odds and ends were just left on the floor- including two full outfits that surely wouldn't fit the shapely miss. It was left to assume that previous two dates ended well . . . that, or Rebecca's "date" contract included a quickie. "Just pick one of the needles here, and I'll get my experimental data out of the way so that we can move straight on to the date you've planned out for us."

"Sure," Jay murmured, pointing at one at random. He really didn't care what this was about, but wanted to get straight to the better part- a nice drive up through the roads that led to the cove on the western shore. Sun, sand, the ocean, and a chance to show off the musculature that came from loading and unloading supplies. "That one."

"You'll feel a slight pinch, and then you'll feel mildly sick. I ask that you try to keep the inevitable vomit in your mouth," Rebecca murmured idly as she picked up the orange-filled hypodermic, revealing a beautifully ornate number 3 on the paper it was resting on, "because I really don't want to have to clean the carpets in here."

Within seconds of the bright orange fluid being emptied into his system, Jay immediately felt the urge to puke up his hearty breakfast, and unfortunately his mouth couldn't contain it completely. Thankfully, Rebecca needn't worry about her carpets, because the man she'd just injected with something had just fallen into some kind of darkened cave where he heaved in discomfort. "Ugh, fuck," he groaned, lying back as he felt his stomach had just completely emptied itself. "The fuck was that?"

Before Jay could regain his bearings in the darkness, he was grabbed by something massive and predatory that swooped down out of seemingly nowhere . . . and, as he found himself hurtling upward, he thought he recognized it . . .

"Time: 7:32 AM. Subject has imbibed variant "Leaf" with no apparent change, although the subject has deigned not to speak thus far. For testing purposes, this makes the subject . . . irksome." That soft, seductive tone had been morphed into the voice of an all-powerful Goddess of sexual seduction, as Jay's jaw dropped. He was nude and three inches tall in the hand of a nineteen-year-old with a model's body who had agreed to date him . . . a part of his mind questioned if he'd died and gone to heaven. "Excuse me, but where is it you intended to take me?" Rebecca asked, bringing her mouth close enough to her palm that Jay fell on his ass from the vibration and galeforce winds.

"Uh, we were heading to the west coast of the island," Jay trembled, calling as loudly as he could to he heard by the all-powerful giantess who now had him literally in the palm of her hand.

"Subject still displays capacity for vocalization, but cannot be understood due to the lack of volume and rather squirrel-esque pitch," Rebecca sighed, the warm wave of her yogurt-scented breath nearly pushing little Jay off her palm. "Variant "Leaf" is a small-scale failure." While such an expression would be unnoticeable to the average human being, tiny Jay noticed the little smirk Rebecca had in response to her unintentional pun. "This constitutes a problem," Rebecca murmured, her steely, emotionless gaze focused on the three-inch man she now held. "I can't understand you, so whatever your plans were are unlikely to occur . . ."

---REBECCA---

Not being able to comprehend her future slaves would definitely be a problem, but not an unsalvageable one. However, she needed to be sure of Leaf's durability increase . . . and given that Hand couldn't survive a hike more than an hour (or so she thought), the redhead knew that a test underfoot would inevitably end in a bloody mess. That at least gave a definitely fatal punishment . . . but left her with another idea.

"I do believe I shall go biking," Rebecca explained, using the hand not holding Mr. Smith to hike up the back of her sundress, "and, given your attention to my gluteal region, I do believe you might enjoy riding in the back of my underwear. Is this assessment correct?"

The bug-man in Rebecca's palm couldn't seem to give enough of an affirmative, and displayed enough raw excitement at the concept that it nearly looked like he was having a seizure. 

"Good. Then, to use a variant on the colloquialism . . . have fun kissing my ass," Rebecca smiled softly, dropping the insect deep into her round behind. Squeezing once, she savored the struggles he produced as she allowed the waistband of her panties to snap against her skin and her dress to fall to its typical position around the middle of her thighs.

Even leaving the women's dorm to get her bike allowed Rebecca to feel the lustful, hungry stares of people who wanted nothing more than a roll in the hay with her, which only made Rebecca size them up in return- how would each of them feel beneath her toes? Which ones would crumble indesperate servitude to her various whims? Who would fight against her and give an excuse to crush them flat? How would each one taste as it fought against her palate? How would each one fight a death by suffocation in her sex?

Their lustful sighs, their amorous gazes, their excited chatter at getting a glance in their direction by someone so far beyond their league . . . and not one of them suspected that she did, in fact, want them . . . but not for the reasons they might hope.

Those that saw the redheaded demigoddess board her bicycle immediately went to find their own in an attempt to keep pace with her, but her long, shapely thighs gave her a nigh-insurmountable head start . . . and not one of them knew where she was headed.

Rebecca calmly let her composure slip, breaking out into a grin and laughing her musical laugh as she felt the worship that little Mr. Smith was willing to lavish on her ass, gliding along an isolated road that led through the dense forests of the isle.

---JAY---

On the one hand, he was in a massive, heavy ass, and motion was all but impossible. Just existing hurt, and the little clenches that Rebecca used to bully his body with from time to time were utterly agonizing, and he didn't even know if they really were intentional.

On the other . . . how many people could really claim that they had been in an ass this fantastic? 

Jay squirmed, he licked, he kissed the pale, plush flesh with every bit of effort he could muster, simultaneously worshipping his Goddess and appeasing her so she didn't squash him. Sweat trickled in and nearly drowned him every so often, but he drank much of it down like nectar, hungrily trying to imbibe the essence of such utter physical perfection.

Hours and hours went by, simultaneously painful and blissful, until the little man's squirming put him face-to-anus with Rebecca Sullivan, the wealthy, brilliant beauty who had reduced him to a bug. Did he dare live out his fantasies?

Was it even a question? 

---REBECCA---

As her ride finished, Rebecca's skin trickled with thin rivulets of sweat, her white sundress nearly see-through with a little help from sea spray (much to the delight of many an onlooker). She idly considered fishing Jay out of her panties once she returned to her room, and giving him instructions on how his life as a slave would function from this point on . . .

Until he delivered a kiss right against her asshole, which twitched on reflex enough to slurp his body in up to his torso.

Apparently, he already knows, Rebecca thought with an idle smirk, heading to the sixth-floor dorm shower room to give all the little sophomore lesbians a simultaneous heart attack.