“Faster, faster,” Dotty gasped, slamming harder. “Faster, faster! Oh God, more, more!” Impatiently she yanked the cat-ears hairband from her tangled hair, threw it away, and clutched her knees. By coincidence, the hairband landed on her teal thong, near the door.

The immense slabs of feminine flab that served for her ass rose, paused, then drove harder onto a bench she hauled in from her garage. The wicker chair in the corner of her bedroom would never do: the bench was solid Canadian oak, painted and repainted until smooth. It was meant to decorate the corner of a garden, perhaps, but now it had two very different jobs. It was slick enough to hold a suction cup, like the chair couldn’t, and it was solid enough to receive all of Dotty’s considerable weight at high velocity, over and over. Not much of her furniture could say the same; maybe the granite countertops could withstand her, but they wouldn’t work. They were too high up. Dotty needed something low that she could straddle, something that would fit between her bloated thighs, something that could hold one simple prop while she aimed her prodigious rump at it and impaled herself repeatedly.

Her cute little feet and the stout legs of the bench formed the corners of a square or an X-shape on her bedroom carpet. Her knees were burning but not aching, as she spread them, leaned forward, and heaved her profound weight up one more time. “Closer, closer,” she panted, peeking down between her thighs at her target. On the bench, a suction cup held like a champ, coated in a river of the older woman’s abundant fluids. If the bench was smooth before, it was positively glassy now, an obscene mirror reflecting the twin planets of Dotty’s buttocks and the unruly bulge of fur between them. “Getting so close, goddamn it!” Her thick hands groped at her breasts, both to massage them into greater passion and to part them so she could see the suction cup, the bulging prosthetic testicles mounted on it, what remained of the rubber dildo she crudely carved down into a stout spine, to which was tied the last component of her desire.

Arms and legs lashed securely to the sacrificial pole of the dildo, Simon sagged against his bonds and coughed up another stream of Dotty’s juices. They dribbled over the threads that bit into his chest and belly; they ran around the nagging erection that would never get what it needed and would never go away; they pooled around his bare feet, smacking against the suction cup/scrotum base in a pool of twisted, coarse hairs and milky glue.

“No more.” His throat was raw from coughing, crying, and screaming. “No more, please. I can’t take it.” And the wide, gibbering flaps of pussy meat descended and swallowed him up once again.

“Fu-u-u-u-uck!” Dotty screamed at the ceiling. Her intimate fluids spattered against her thighs, seeped into the crack of her ass, and rained upon the floor; damp pile carpet sucked at her heels as her hips twisted upon the bench. One massive buttock rolled off the side like a garbage sack full of Jell-o, while the other impossibly climbed the other side. She could feel the rounded edges of the bench digging into her butt crack with every grind, feel how her cheeks spread to admit an entire goddamn bench, but she just needed more. Feeling little Simon, little Mousie, her living sex-toy squirming inside her was tantalizing, and it was great for the first eight inches of her… but she needed more! She whimpered, digging her nails into her tits, as she rocked forward and back, trying to dig that little man just one more inch deeper.

Groaning like a drowning victim, she slapped her palms upon sticky thighs and launched another assault upon the bench. Little hops, bouncing up and down as fast as she could. If she couldn’t go deeper, she could rub that little fucker all over her insides as fast as she could. She gulped in great lungfuls of air, rolled her shoulders, and set to work.

The joints of the bench creaked and complained with every thrust. Dotty had no reservations about throwing her full weight upon that poor little bench, mindless of anything but getting another orgasm tonight. Her thighs burned and her calves threatened to knot as she lifted and slammed, lifted and slammed, lifted and slammed onto the tiny man. Faster she went, biting her lip, holding her breath as she tried to picture that cute little face, those handsome little shoulders grinding against her precious and darling insides. She saw her vaginal canal like a cartoon, with lots of red and pink, lots of jolly mounds and nodes that squirmed delightedly around Simon, who was not animated. She pictured the layers of bumpy tissues swarming around him, rubbing his bare chest, nuzzling his cheeks affectionately. That is what lovemaking looked like to her, a sensual, candy-coated playground of eroticism, a joy to all.

Simon didn’t fear the dark as much as everything else that came with it. The monstrous woman’s cunt crushed his shoulders and ribs until he coughed up what little air he was able to steal. The fluids… the fluids! They never seemed to end! How could one woman produce so much fucking fluid? Dotty was a flagrant violation of Lavoisier’s Law of Conservation of Mass; she was the perpetual motion machine of pussy juices. He’d hoped to wait until she ran dry or collapsed from exhaustion, because there was no way a person could store that much fat with this much physical output over so long a time, but from what he could tell deep inside her thick, greedy hips, Dotty showed no signs of slowing down in the least.

The only break he received was when she lodged him deeply inside her pussy and the thrusting ended. He lay within, lodged in complete silence, couched claustrophobically within her iron-bound vulvic grip, which only squirmed and squeezed slightly for several minutes. He wondered what the hell could be going on outside of the large woman, as the seconds ticked away on his held breath. There was no way for him to know she’d broken the suction on the bench and carried him, securely sucked up inside her pussy, to the kitchen to slam down a pint of water, a small carton of orange juice, and the last half of a bottle of wine. Sated, she toddled back to the bedroom, relishing the solid lump of an entire living adult man jammed deeply into her cooch. What amazing days these were!

Harder and harder she thrust, grunting with each blow. She could feel the violent earthquakes in each buttock, momentarily impressed with her own massiveness. She must’ve seemed like a goddess to little Simon. She knew she was undramatic at Overmedia, easily looked past, not much to talk to. But just as well she knew what treasures she held in secret, in waiting, for the right man. She’d dated, but they were never quite right, they never lasted long. She would show this one her trick with her fists and olive oil; she showed that one how deeply she could hold a cock in her throat and still perform an aria; and with the next one, she would bring him quickly, abruptly to orgasm with a finger like a homing missile up his butt, unerringly locating his prostate. These were all neat tricks, but they weren’t enough to keep the guys around.

But this one, this little guy dancing deep in her pussy, he was a keeper. He’d be around for a long, long time. Dotty smiled to herself as her ass rumbled against the bench with each collision, thinking about her long future with Simon, with Mousie, with the living fuck-toy. All the things she wanted to do with him… The dildo was a stroke of genius, no pun intended. She already had the craft tools from scrapbooking and a brief stint with building miniatures. It was nothing to strip away large hanks of rubber from one of her older dildos. She took her time to do a reasonable job, keeping Simon pinned beneath her huge, heavy ass cheeks. She loved the way he feebly struggled beneath her, despite being covered entirely with nothing showing. At first she wasn’t sure the remaining core of dildo would hold, watching how it flopped around like Simon did after the first couple rounds of fucking him silly. Yet the two combined, tied to each other, somehow summoned a new strength to keep them standing on that sturdy little bench. She admired her ingenuity, even as she thought about new modifications to make.

I could shave him down, she thought. I’ve got those nice German shears, I could clip most of his hair pretty close to the skin. Have to be careful with his li’l pee-pee! Don’t want to snip that off, I’ll never hear the end of it. She pinched her nipples, left then right, and pounded her fists into her thighs to keep pumping. What else… I could get some latex paint, coat him nice and thick. Aw, but then he’d be deprived of feeling my love all over his body! I couldn’t do that to him. I mean, I could, because this isn’t about him, but Mommy wants her little man to enjoy himself too. Great thing about this suction cup, I could mount him to the bathtub or on the wall of the shower. Mmm, that’d be nice! Her pussy clenched at the thought of hot water spraying over her soapy ass while she backed into her lover. That’d thrill him! I could take him up my butterhole and clean him off immediately. He couldn’t complain about that. What else…

Dotty took a moment to sit down and think. The bench was clammy and gummy with her copious juices, but she hardly noticed. She drew her knees together, as though to crush the bench between them, and rhythmically clenched her thighs while she mused. She knew that her little man needed to feel loved inside her, and so she practiced her Kegels on him, even if it momentarily slipped his mind that he needed to breathe.

I could mount him on the coffee table while I watch my soaps. Set up a TV tray with a lot of little snacks, bounce on him once in a while. Oh, that sounds lovely! But there’s got to be something done about his body, the way it is. She rubbed her cheek thoughtfully, twisting her hips on the bench to make sure Simon was still awake. The dildo pole was a good idea, and I like the idea of coating him in latex, but wouldn’t it be better to glue his arms to his sides, his legs together? That might stiffen him up. Ooh, stiffer! Her pussy gooshed and drooled over the edges of the bench. She jammed one fat hand between her thighs to grind her clit into submission. I’ve got to tie him to something harder, but what? I don’t want to jam a metal ruler inside me. I wonder if something could be installed in him… That’s brilliant! I’ve got those thin metal rods from jewelry-making, but one of those is too week. I’d have to use several to really hold him up. He might not like that, but I bet he heals quickly. I’ll sterilize it with vodka, it’ll be fine. What to do about those limbs, though? Glue will work for a while… stitching them down would last longer… And then there was the small matter, the teeny-tiny matter, a technicality, really, of how she would get Simon to agree to all this.

Inside her, the little man really started kicking and bucking. “Oh, are you cumming already, dear? Mommy wants to see!” She stood beyond thought and Simon slurped out of her pussy, leaving it aching with emptiness. She knelt by the bench and studied him. “Why, you don’t look excited at all! Your little pee-pee’s just dangling like a ramen noodle, and you’re blue in the face and not even looking at me.” Pouting, she pinched the shaft of the dildo with one hand and thwapped her middle nail into his abdomen.

Simon’s head felt wrapped in gauze, robed in darkness, when suddenly someone drove a car into his stomach. Most of the viscous juices flooding his lungs and throat shot out, and he heard increasing laughter as his body mechanically sucked in clean air.

“You led me on, you little fibber!  I thought you were going to cum all over Mommy’s sweet lips.” She puckered up for him, thick red lips that pulsed threateningly at his cock, as though they would tear it off and suck it down. “Don’t you have anything for Mommy, after all that?” Her lips parted and out slithered her thick tongue, flickering at his cock, flapping it up and down.

“Stop, please stop,” he gasped. She didn’t hear him, and after a violent coughing fit he called out louder. “I can’t take any more, I need a break.”

“Ooh, we don’t have time for a break,” she cooed, wedging the tip of her tongue between his thighs, unconscious of how brutally it shoved against his tender ball sack. “We gotta keep going, yes, we do. I’ve got two more good orgasms coming up, and then one cool-down before I slip you inside me for beddy-bye.”

The slender pole of rubber dildo shuddered comically as Simon sobbed. “You’re going to kill me!”

“I would never. I learned so much after the last one.” Her tastebuds rasped over his thighs, dragging his cock and taunting it painfully into hardness once more.

“I can’t breathe inside you! There’s no air!”

“You’re getting better at holding your breath, I can tell.” She smirked at him and planted her hands on the edge of the bench, sucking in a preparatory breath.

“I don’t have any strength left! I can’t keep fighting, I’m exhausted!”

“Then stop fighting me, you silly little boy! Give yourself over to Mommy’s sweet caresses.” With a grunt she heaved herself up, dragging one leg up, then the other, and stood in the cooling slop of cum-drenched carpet.

Simon tried to lock her gaze but only found himself peering up into her thicket. “No, really, I can’t do this again. I need a break, please, give me a rest.”

“No rest for the wickedly charming,” she said, dimples forming around her grin. She threw one massive leg over the bench and positioned her colossal ass above him like the last second before an avalanche. She heard him scream between her thighs and called him dramatic, and her broad hips began their descent.

“Stop! Please! I’m begging you!”

“Beg all you want, my little lover, but in you go!” Dotty licked her lips and closed her eyes, betting she could find him and guide him by touch alone.

“Dotty! You’re going to kill me!”

“What a way to go, then, eh?” Something bumped against her thick, hanging labia. She couldn’t tell whether it was the end of the dildo or Simon’s lovely little head. “Surrounded by the loving embrace of Mommy’s sweet pussy. Here I come!” She bent her knees a little, and the light, teasing bumps against her vulva became an insistent nudge. She smiled broadly, shifted her hips, and slowly led the solid mass inside.

Simon, finding a fifth wind, struggled against his bonds, deep in the shadow of the valley of Dotty. Her scraggly hairs scraped against his face, then his neck and shoulders; the engorged, slavering alien lips of her monstrous cunt seemed to spread of their own accord, parting to reveal rings and layers of livid tissue, practically steaming with searing juices that dribbled over her vulva and slobbered all around him. “Dotty, stop, please! I’m begging you!”

He only heard her girlish giggle, far off in the distance, as the heavy curtains of meat draped over his ears and widened to swallow his shoulders. “I’ll do anything!”

The toothless maw paused around his head. Slowly the eager tissues withdrew, reluctantly, deprived. Thick erotic drool flowed down his shivering chest as the light returned and Dotty’s face descended from the heavens to hover above him.

“Anything, huh?”

As happy as he was to breathe another second, as relieved as he was to postpone the bone-crushing grind of her pussy, something told him that he should have chosen to snap his neck against the middle-aged research analyst’s cervix.

*   *   *

SIX MONTHS LATER

Dotty adjusted her hair in the “lobby” of Zoom, fixed the lighting on her desk to remove the shadow under her chin, gave her girls a little adjustment where they piled before her keyboard, then clicked to join the online meeting.

After a musical tone, Lynn’s voice chimed. “Dorothy, hi! So nice to see you! How’ve you been?” The young blonde wore a gray sports shirt beneath a prim black blazer; behind her was a rustic-looking bookshelf with artistically arrayed hardcovers and objets d’art like a brass globe and a conch.

Dotty grinned and waggled her fingers at the camera, watching the version of herself. Lynn saw her thick arm thrust at the camera, and then the entire view jerked lower incrementally. “Good evening, Lynn! Remember, it’s Dotty now. Gosh, I haven’t heard anyone use my old name in a long time.”

Lynn’s face froze for a moment, likely in response to Dotty’s presentation of her spreading bosom. “Oh, uh, right. Dotty. We miss you at Overmedia! Did you know we still haven’t found anyone to replace you?”

Dotty’s body rumbled in the camera as she chuckled. “That can’t be true. It couldn’t be so hard to find someone to push a pen around a desk.”

“Such modesty! You really had your fingers in a lot of pies, didn’t you, girl? It seems like every week, we discover some new department that fed you information or relied on you for a report, and we scramble all over again to figure out what was going on and what they need. It’s getting harder to find qualified applicants, the more we uncover!”

“Well, you stick around one place for as long as I’ve been there, I guess you’re bound to make a few connections.” She grinned, clenching her biceps to her sides to make her boobs really bulge out of the delicate, lacy nightgown she favored lately. She was pleased with how they looked on camera, abundant and heavy and ripe.

Lynn’s surprise melted into a knowing grin. “Yes, Dotty, I can see them. Is it gauche of me to say you seem to be filling out… in the best way possible?”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. So it’s not just me? I don’t look too dumpy or anything?”

“Not at all, Dotty. You’re looking incredible! The last half-year’s been good to you, apparently.”

“You’re very kind, Lynn. You’ve always been so kind to me. And you look beautiful, the very flower of youth. So trim and slender… lissome, my generation used to say. Lean as a whip.”

Lynn glanced down at herself and looked away. “Anyway, I bet Simon’s pleased as Punch to be living with a big, voluptuous goddess like yourself, huh? Has he been behaving himself?”

“Oh, he’s fantastic! He’s better than I could’ve ever dreamed! We’re part-star-crossed lovers, part-well-oiled machine.” She burst into laughter, and her breasts rumbled. “No pun intended! Oh my gosh, he’s just fantastic. We’ve grown closer and closer together. He’s so smart! He learns everything I throw at him, and after a short refractory period, he’s ready for action once again. I wonder if I’ve ever been so happy in my life! He really is a trooper.”

Lynn’s eyebrows screwed up as she listened. “That’s… that’s great, then. I’m so happy he’s been working out for you! But if he’s been doing everything you wanted, how come you haven’t contacted me before this?”

“What do you mean?”

“The contract, when we were in Jubilee Manor. Remember? You said that if he fulfilled his duties, you’d have him restored back to normal. I just thought—”

“Well. Do you know how to do that yet?”

“Uh, no. I don’t know how I even shrink ‘em down in the first place. I’m guessing growing him back up would be kind of the same thing? Like I have to feel very generous or affectionate toward him or something. I could probably fake it, but this is all theoretical. I’ve never been in a situation where I had to enlarge someone. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to practice with Simon, if it came to that.”

“Ah, his name’s not Simon anymore. And yes, he’s doing everything I could’ve asked for—and much, much more, believe me—so there’s really no way I could possibly live without him now. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to leave, anyway. How could he do without his loving Mama to take care of him? Why, it’d break his little heart to spend one second away from me, I just know it. Fortunately, we are never separated! And anyway, he’s really not fit to mingle with a less-than-understanding public. He’s gone through a lot of changes, he has. I don’t want to say ‘growth,’ obviously, but he’s a very different man now.”

“His name’s not Simon? What are you calling him now?”

“His professional name is Meep, and we’re very professional now so that’s all anyone needs to call him.” Dotty shifted in her seat, her long raven locks spilling over her hillsides of flesh as she shoved one pudgy hand into her cleavage.

Lynn’s image blinked for a moment. “What kind of name is Meep? Why do you call him that?”

“That’s all he can say.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s hard for him to pronounce many words with his teeth missing.”

“What?!”

“And his jaw broke once, just slightly, but that wasn’t related to his teeth.”

“Dorothy! Is he okay? Has he been to the hospital?”

The heavy, older woman looked into the tiny glistening disc of her laptop camera. “It’s Dotty, Lynn, please try to respect my decisions. And why on earth would I bring little Meep to a stupid ol’ hospital? They wouldn’t know the first thing to do with him! They might even try to take my little miracle-man away from me, after all the work I’ve done on him. Where are you, you squirmy little scamp…”

“Dotty, what’s going on? Is everything okay over there? Do you need me to come over?”

“Ah, there we go.” Dotty’s sausage-fingers wrapped around her prize, carefully extracting a long lump of flesh from her abundant breasts. From her fist thrust a shaft of human flesh, at first resembling a detailed dildo carved and molded by a designer with a sick sense of humor. It flopped and jerked around at first, creating blurry, pixelated streaks across Lynn’s screen as it caught the glaring light and lunged at the camera. Dotty gently pinched an area near one end while grasping the other end in her fist and managed to hold it still, turning it slowly to really show it off.

“Holy fucking shit…”

“Oh, pick your jaw up off the floor. He’s beautiful! Please say hello to Meep, the star of our little nightly shows. Meep, you’ll remember Lynn from way back, don’t you? Back in the dark ages, before you fell into a land of kisses and hugs and cuddles and Mama’s special deep embrace?” Dotty’s teeth flashed in the camera before she pasted the side of the fleshy shaft in dark raspberry smooches. “Why don’t you say hello to Lynn?”

The laptop microphone barely caught a strained “meep?”

“Yes, you’re allowed to, I permit it. After all, she’s the wonderful woman who brought us together! Remember? She shrunk you down so you could come live with me. You should thank her for her amazing powers and her generosity, handing you over to me! Wasn’t that lovely of her? Whoa, there.”

The fleshy shaft shook, folded, writhed violently between Dotty’s hands. It shrieked “Meep! Meep! Meep-meep!” in a hideous, strangled cry, contorting itself to thrust one end of it to the camera.

Lynn covered her mouth, eyes wide in terror as she watched the face of the long-forgotten intern bobbing around on her screen. He was barely recognizable now, like the memory of a bad dream. He was entirely hairless: bald scalp, no eyebrows or eyelashes around crazed, hateful eyes that tried to reach through the fiber optic network. As Dorothy had said, his jaws were robbed of any teeth. Empty, reddened gums mashed sickeningly over her screen as “meep meep meep meep” squawked balefully over her speakers. One fat finger slithered like an anaconda beneath his jaw and hooked his neck back violently.

“He’s a live one, as you can see! Easy there, Meep, save your energy for the show!” Dotty laughed to herself, reining the sickly rod back and forcing it to lie stretched across one boob. “There, there. She knows you’re grateful. If you really have that much energy, maybe we should burn it off before tonight’s performance. Would you like that?”

The fleshy shaft shuddered visibly, struggling to relax into a dormant state.

“I can see he still remembers you, Lynn! I’m not sure how to feel about that, to be honest. I thought I’d massaged all his old ways of thinking out of him. I guess it’ll take longer than I thought.” She shrugged and grinned at the image of her former coworker. “Now, here, let me show him off. As you can see, we got rid of all that pesky hair on him. That’s what Olympic swimmers call a drag-coefficient, I think. It just helps him really slide around without anything getting in the way, and that’s so important for a little lover like him.”

“I don’t…” Lynn looked aghast, floating on the laptop screen like a ghost.

“But you see up here, on the top of his head?” Dotty double-fisted her tiny lover to turn his head into view. “I found a very understanding, very open-minded tattoo artist who does lots of odd jobs. I guess it doesn’t hurt that he’s on… what do you kids call them? Shrooms? When he does his work. He’s very affordable, too! Extremely affordable: all I had to do was sit on his face until he fell asleep. But look, you see that little line running over his head? What does that remind you of?”

Lynn was profoundly unwilling to look at her screen, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away. “I don’t know… I don’t know. Is that a slit? Was he cut there?”

Dotty beamed at her. “See what precise work that was? No, it’s not a real slit, but doesn’t it look exactly like the urethra on the tip of a penis?” Her dark eyebrows waggled playfully.

“Oh, my God.”

“Now, this part I’m proud of. This part I did myself. There was a problem with how flippy-floppy Meep was being, back in the beginning. I could hardly…” Dotty tried to look shy though she couldn’t force herself to blush. “You know, without him bending in half or getting his leg jammed or whatnot. I started with cleverly carving an old dildo to help support him, and that worked great for a while. But…” Again she tried to appear demure, yet her chest swelled alarmingly as she inhaled with pride. “I’m afraid Mama’s appetites only grew with every application. My little man and I, we’ve made love in every room in this house, I don’t mind telling you. We’ve destroyed furniture, we’ve left stains on all sorts of surfaces, and with me quitting my job to spend more time with him, how was I supposed to earn any money to replace this stuff? But I’m getting ahead of myself.”

The long tube of little man shuddered upon her breast, as though he were sobbing. He made no noise, however, and no tears formed.

“So I got a little crafty, and I augmented my little lover in a couple interesting ways. I used to do beadwork, I don’t know if you knew that. I made necklaces and jewelry, I showed them off on the Midwest circuit, conventions in Iowa and Nebraska. I outgrew it but I never got rid of my equipment. I don’t know why. But I’m glad I didn’t, because then I had all these little metal rods that I used to use for earrings and bent metal art.”

“Holy fuck. Dorothy… Dotty, you didn’t.”

“Now, hold on. I don’t want you thinking I was irresponsible or cruel! I sterilized each piece in a candle flame and with rubbing alcohol before I inserted it into him.” Dotty turned the little man over to observe his backside. It was speckled with little red dots. “I strengthened his knees—one rod wasn’t strong enough to support him, I found that out the hard way—by inserting three or four little rods into his heel, up through his calf, and into his thigh, trying to stay as close to the bone as possible.”

Lynn was a frozen image of horror, hands clasped over her face.

“And because that went so well, I felt confident about reinforcing his spine the same way. I tried shoving some up his little butt,” she said, smiling cutely at the camera, “but honestly the best work was when I drove it into his shoulders and down his ribs. Now he hardly moves at all—I mean, come on. Mama likes a little bit of squirming inside her! If I wanted a stiff rod, I’d’ve stuck him in the freezer!”

“Dotty, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“I’m kidding, of course.”

Lynn’s hands slipped a little. “This isn’t funny…”

“We did try the freezer, it didn’t work at all. I mean, I didn’t feel any cold up inside my cooch—pardon my language—but he was hard to hold onto.”

“Dotty!”

“Now, if you had a squirmy little guy who liked making it difficult for you when you tried to slide him inside your, you know, your place, how would you fix that?”

Lynn looked on the verge of hysterical laughter. “What? I wouldn’t! I would never! I—” Her gaze drifted upward as she recalled Derek, the mad scramble around the meeting room, the tiny man treading water in the toilet, how she stashed him on Dorothy’s chair for an entire afternoon. “Oh, my God.”

“It’s a tricky problem, right? You might think the easiest thing would be to clip those little arms off as a warning—”

“What?!”

“—and then work on his toes if he’s still being a pill. But no, I found a more elegant solution.” Dotty grinned primly, smugly at the camera, straightening her posture. “At first, tying his limbs down worked out well, but those little threads are so fiddly, and there’s such a fine line between securing him snugly and applying a tourniquet. I thought of tape, of course, but some brands were scratchy inside me and the others just… dissolved!” She laughed at the memory, stroking the human dildo on her chest.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Lynn hazarded a guess. “You could just use a condom, couldn’t you? Oh, wait, he wouldn’t breathe.”

Dotty nodded slowly, enjoying the younger woman’s thought process.

“You could clip a hole at the end, an air hole for him. Then he wouldn’t suffocate.” Her face fell. “Except he’s going somewhere there’s no air. He’s going to drown regardless.”

Dotty laughed gently. “You’re missing the point, Lynn, you’ve gotten way off track. The issue is those little arms that could get broken because he’s fighting you and acting like he doesn’t want to go in, in the first place. What do you do?”

Lynn reared from the camera, alarmed that an answer came out of her. “You could glue his arms down. Super Glue, I guess.”

“Ah, great minds think alike! That worked fine for about a week, but between my juices and the sweat and oils from Meep’s body, there just wasn’t an adhesive strong enough to stay for very long. So I’ll tell you, this is something I’d always wondered about. If you cut off the tips of each of your fingertips, and if you could hold your fingers together, end to end, long enough to heal, would they grow together?”

Lynn’s eyes flickered up and down, looking at the mangled tiny man and the proud expression of his owner. “You wouldn’t…”

“I just used one of my old emery boards to abrade the skin under his arms and down his sides, and then I sealed that up with Super Glue, and then I socked him in a condom with a hole in the end and tied him up with baker’s twine, just to be sure. I really needed him to hold still long enough for his body to heal.” Dotty’s dark lips pursed to one side. “Took a lot longer than I figured, actually. He was a hot little rod for a while, burning with fever. I could hardly jam enough aspirin down his toothless throat.” She paused, then burst out with laughter. “Hot Rod! Oh, I should’ve called you that.”

Lynn looked as though she were about to vomit.

Dotty apparently didn’t notice. “And then I did the same thing to his legs, too. Because why not? I opened him up just a little with careful little slits with an X-acto knife. Go figure, Dumb Dotty forgot to sterilize that blade! But he’s all better now, and he looks amazing, don’t you agree?”

The hairless cylinder of white flesh only shuddered upon her boob; her large breast shuddered sympathetically with his vibration. His arms lay flat against his sides, and Lynn detected fewer shadows between them than there should’ve been. The line of demarcation was very weak indeed, as though the skin were… She looked away from the screen, gasping.

“Lynn? Lynn, look here, you’re missing the best part.”

When Lynn looked back, she saw a gleaming metal appliance she couldn’t recognize.

“This really was a stroke of genius, too. I was at an estate sale when I found this Russian bayonet, and it clipped onto the rifle in the most cunning way. See here? You press this button on the side, and these little claws retract, so they can lock on to this little bit at the end of an AK-47… this is all boring technical talk, but long story short, that tattoo artist apparently knows someone with a metal shop, and—how lucky is this?—they’re both into getting face-sat until they pass out. He was kind of a fighter, but I stuck with it until he stopped moving. But he’s the one who designed this!”

Dotty thrust a small metal cavity at the camera. Lynn had no idea what all the right angles and grooves meant, and the interpretation didn’t clear up even when the older woman pulled it back. All she saw was what looked like the head of a disposable cigarette lighter sitting in a flesh-colored disk with a large pair of fake testicles attached. It was bizarre and surreal and she said so.

“Well, sure, it doesn’t make sense until you see this,” Dotty said, setting the testicles on her other boob. She adjusted her grip on Meep, picked him up, and carefully set him into the metal cavity with the silicone ball sack. There was a loud click, and now Meep stood firmly in the base, hiding his face from the camera. “And there he is! There’s a suction cup on the bottom, so I can stick him anywhere! Now he stays in place and doesn’t slip or get dislodged. I tell you, I used to have a real problem of bouncing down on him, getting more and more excited, and then I didn’t even realize he’d come free and was just floating around inside me. That gave us a good scare about fifteen or twenty times before I dreamed this up.”

“Doesn’t that hurt his feet?” Lynn asked without thinking.

Dotty snorted derisively. “I really doubt it. I had them removed. Hold on a moment, I see that it’s time for dinner.”

Lynn watched the immense woman rise, hot-air-balloon-like, from her computer chair and drift away, receding into the distance like a spherical, wobbly ghost. Two spheres, more accurately, set in the middle of her body, chewing up the dressy nightgown, grinding against each other in a Sisyphean king-of-the-hill between two planets. The blonde was nearly hypnotized by the motion of Dotty’s immense ass, all but exposed beneath the sheer fabric. Her mind worked hard to shut down and not process everything else she’d learned, grabbing onto the almost comical sight of Dotty’s big round rump and doing whatever she could to ignore the sobbing, squealing shaft in the corner of her screen, the fleshy shaft that barely resembled a young man she handed over to this gross, gluttonous, clearly insane woman. “I’m so sorry, Simon,” she whispered, turning down her computer’s speakers.

She turned them back up when Dotty returned, holding a small plate with two picture-perfect sandwich halves. “I got his favorite: egg salad! Chock-full of nourishing proteins and fats, just the thing he’s going to need for tonight’s show. Did you know that we have a rather popular little web show now?”

Lynn shook her head, unable to imagine what was coming next.

“We have an Only Fans account, and we’re building a respectable library on Clips4Sale, if I’m allowed to brag.” Dotty took a large bite from a sharp corner of one sandwich, chewed it for a moment, then spoke around it. “We’re attracting quite the fan base, too. There are a lot of people who share our vision, aren’t there?” She raked her nails lightly up Meep’s melded legs, over the graft of his arm to his ribs. “Remember when I told you about the problem I had with all the furniture I ruined? Our little show… excuse me.”

Lynn watched Dotty dislodge Meep from the computer desk and lie him down in front of the keyboard. “Open wide,” she heard the large woman mutter, before she opened her jaws and let loose a sizable glob that buried the helpless little man’s entire head in masticated matter.

“Like I was saying, our little show—Mama and Meep—is getting more and more popular all the time. I’ve upgraded all my dingy old furniture and next week I’m getting the carpets torn up and replaced. Can you believe, over 30 years at Overmedia (and the company Overmedia bought, before that), and I was basically living hand-to-mouth the entire time. Now? I’m making more money than I’ve ever seen in my life! I really don’t need a larger house than this old thing, but I’m converting the spare bedroom from crafts storage into a full-blown video production studio!” She laughed and picked up the sickly struggling little man, and she lapped off the chunks of chewed food from around his face.

“What are you complaining for?” she asked him. “Egg salad’s your favorite, you know it. Anyway, yeah, everything’s coming up Dotty lately. And Meep’s not going anywhere, I think that’s apparent. I mean, there are probably plenty of fans who’d be happy to watch me shove that little camera up my… you know, my place, or watch me smash vegetables and eggs under my big, lovely butt.” She rested the messy little man upon her breasts once more. Idly her thumb and forefinger played with his minuscule cock, pinching and twisting it until it stood on its own. “They’ve said so. These fans have such wild imaginations, you know, and seemingly limitless amounts of money to share. Where does it all come from? Who cares, as long as they keep paying to see Mama and Meep do the things they love to do! Here, I’ll send you an invite to tonight’s show, if you’re curious to learn what all the fuss is about.”

Dotty smirked and licked her purplish lips at the camera. “Are you still at your same old Overmedia address?”