Chapter 1: Button Pressing by V11

Linda threw back the front door. Bethany was grinning broadly at her and took a final drag of her cigarette before flipping it into Linda's yard.

"Bethany! I thought you told me you had quit those things a long time ago?"

Bethany gave Linda an exasperated yet cheerful look, "I did! But, you know how things get. I didn't mean to, I swear. I had a bad day and on the way home when I filled up the car, well… I really don't remember even buying them. Now? Now I've got to start all over again."

The redhead brought her bags inside and the women made their way to the living room where Bethany stowed her things.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We closed today on something and I got stuck going over the paperwork with the clients. I should have packed this morning to come over, well, it's been a rough day all around."

Linda checked the clock and smiled.

"That's alright, Bethany! But, I've only got maybe half an hour before I absolutely must leave. I need to be there early, thanks to airport security. So…"

Bethany grinned, "there are little bags of pesto in the freezer, plenty of wine, a full selection of television channels and some teeny-tiny friends to keep me company! I'll be fine, Linda!"

"I shut down the security system. It is too much of a bother to change the codes for you. Don't worry, though, you know where the panic room is, and the deadbolts were special order. Even without the security system no one is going to get in here as long as you don't leave the doors wide open."

Bethany came to Linda and grabbed her by her hands.

"Don't worry so much! I'll be perfectly fine, and so will they."

Linda's façade parted and Bethany got a look at the steely hard and aggressive underpinning which was Linda's true inner workings. Bethany was still smiling, completely unfazed.

"You need to be careful with them, Bethany."

Bethany's eyes got wide and her mouth pursed in mock, comic surprise.

"I will be careful with them, Linda! I will treat them like they're my own children!"

"Bethany! I'm serious!"

"I can tell! I sure would hate to end up tiny! You know, just so naked and vulnerable with my perky little breasts!"

Linda stared at her incredulously as Bethany gently took one of Linda's index fingers and raised up to her own face. Bethany could tell that Linda did not like it, but was allowing her to follow through with whatever she had intended. Whether Linda knew it or not, she didn't really mind. After all, she had kissed Bethany on more than one occasion. Linda's calm kisses were certainly not intended to be overtly sexual, yet they were always accompanied with the gently chiding threat of shrinking Bethany when she had done something particularly heinous. That, in itself, to Linda at least, was ultimately sexual and Bethany knew that. Linda's over-sized self-confidence gave Bethany a lot of leeway to be overly intimate.

"Tiny little arms and legs wrapped around this… Just absolutely terrified of what you would do to me!"

Bethany appraised the pretty fingertip stoically for a moment before running it across her bottom lip softly.

"I'm not kidding, Bethany."

"Oh, neither am I! I'd rather make you tiny and make you squirm. But, a close second would be seeing you so magnificently huge! That might be interesting! Would you trap me? Would you squeeze me? Would you hold me for a long time just feeling my tiny trembles, all of me just right there, me, but completely helpless and hopeless!"

Bethany slid Linda's finger into her mouth for a moment and sucked on it as she stared into Linda's eyes. She freed it out with a smack of her lips.

"Tiny little frightened Bethany who would just want to be loved by you, who would just want the cruel giantess to no longer be angry. Would you put me down in your panties? Oh, I bet I would just love all of that lovely blonde hair down there! Could I nibble on your button? Would you let me do that? My tiny little face, can you imagine that?"

Bethany snarled playfully and bit at the air in front of Linda's face. Linda pulled her hand away, flustered. Bethany watched mischievously as Linda began to blush.

"Goddammit, Bethany! Stop it! Don't do that to me, don't say things like that. You're my friend. That is totally unfair!"

Bethany leaned in and glared, smoldering intently into Linda's eyes, an amused and aroused smile on her own face.

"I'll fuck you, Linda, however and whenever you want to do that. I'd prefer to do it like this, though."

"You and I have talked about this. I should never have let you kiss me. Now you just won't stop."

"Maybe you shouldn't threaten me with the Keepsake, Linda. Because, if I'm a bad girl, like a really bad girl, well, lucky for me that you're gorgeous all over. I would gladly fuck any beautiful part of you. I would rather not be tiny, but if I didn't have a choice I'd be content. Because it's you."

"I'm… you know I'm not like that, Bethany."

"Unless I would happen to be tiny! Then everyone is fair game, right? Then you wouldn't be able to resist, would you?" Bethany growled in frustration, "I sure am glad we've grown close like sisters. Otherwise... Otherwise I don't think I could stand to be around you!"

Bethany wrapped her arms around Linda and held her face close to her own. She kissed her on the cheek and then on the other cheek, she left little polite kisses on her forehead and face almost like a mother or sister would as she confided in her.

"Go on, go to the funeral. Don't worry about them. I promise I'll be nice! I've been practicing, you know, a lot, really. I've even grown my nails out a little bit for it. They'll be fine. If not, you can come back and make me your toy. You know, you really hurt me. You are difficult to be around, Linda Johnson. You make me crazy. You make me think about letting you do it. Then, at least you wouldn't feel threatened and could be yourself. Your kinky, dominating self."

Bethany kissed Linda on the lips, but pulled away before it became uncomfortable for either of them. She looked over her wonderful face as she smiled and ran a hand through her long platinum hair.

"Go on. Everything will be fine. The kids and I will have fun. Maybe they won't be so intimidated by me when you get back."

"Just pay attention. Count it off when they can't breathe. Consider what you're putting them through every second you are doing something. That's all. Their lives are bad enough. Really, they are."

Bethany waved goodbye from inside the garage as the dark purple Jaguar faded into the trees. She was alone now, well, nearly so. Perhaps it was time to have some fun.

Chapter 2: House Special: Raw Doll by V11

Steve could hear their enormous voices even from inside of his home, then finally the sound of the automatic garage door. Linda's father had died and now she was finally on her way to Minneapolis for the funeral. He wondered if he might get to see Jesse while Linda was gone. Most likely not, Steve's mother was not kidding when she had said that she was a jealous Goddess. For Jesse's sake, Steve should probably try and keep his enormous mother occupied as best he could while Linda was away.

Bethany was worse than Linda had ever been to him. Linda had merely disliked him and when riled her torture was terrible, far more terrible than what his own mother had concocted thus far. But Linda was entirely invested at every moment in keeping Steve alive. To Bethany, Steve was now a possession, her very own tiny toy. His mother was brutal, yet half of the brutality was unintended. Steve often wondered which woman was stronger physically. Strangely, he felt that Bethany was most likely physically stronger but that Linda was far more lethal.

Linda always succeeded in taking something from Steve, or inflicting something intentionally into him. Self-doubt, self-image, insanity, isolation, all modified or injected into him despite his efforts to protect himself from the enormous blonde. It was impossible for Steve to entirely protect himself against someone who was just plainly smarter and had a much stronger will than his own.

Steve's mother? Sure, she tormented him plenty when she was in the mood. But unlike Linda, Bethany scared him. Steve never knew when she might slip up while he was in her gigantic clutches. Steve had an obsessive fear about his own mother which would sometimes completely overtake him while she played: hearing her giggle and then suddenly being accidentally squashed to a paste. Bethany continuing for a moment in her grotesque play after her son had been transformed into a liquid mess before realizing what had transpired. That was how awkward, how inattentive she could be.

Steve hated that nagging vision. He found it strange that Linda, the one whom he trusted with his delicate body might not even cry if that were to happen, though it was an impossibility on her watch. Linda was more rational than emotional. Steve's mother would be the one to cry over his remains. Steve always found that to be a strange and wholly unsettling juxtaposition.

Steve could feel the tremors, they were short bursts of sharp waves, deeper than Linda's bare feet. His mother was in the bedroom, some sort of high heels wrapped around those mighty feet. She passed the "point of no return" outside the walk in closet, a mere three more enormous steps and she would be in the doorway. Steve got up from the chair and made his way out through the door of his home.

There she was, huge and smiling as she thundered into the closet. Steve was focused on her face as the vast hips swept up to the space beyond the shelf. Linda had intentionally placed Steve's home at waist level where he would be forced to look up at her. Where he would be forced to contend with the intimidating hands always in full view. Linda was still not satisfied with Steve's sense of self. She was still eroding him.

All of the air around Steve churned as the massive body displaced it. Just like Linda, Bethany's mere presence had already tinged Steve's surroundings with her enormity. Every breath he now took smelled and tasted like his mother's soft body and her hygiene product's depleting scents.

She was grinning as she looked over his abode.

"Oh! That's just too much! Linda told me what she had planned to do for you, but this is just wonderful!"

A finger longer than a car swept down and traced across the white picket fence and tiny fake hedges. Steve could see that his mother had not cut her fingernails, she had a recent manicure and they were coated in a clear polish. She was growing them out instead of opting for fake nails. He felt conflicted, there was a tinge of disgust that Linda's influence could be evidenced there on his mother's body. But Steve also realized that he missed her, he always missed her when he was left alone with his mother. Linda could stop her. Linda had saved him from her many times.

Bethany laughed again as she peered into her old white pump. She giggled at the tiny furniture laid out logically and tastefully in the toe of the shoe. The finger ignored Steve as it swept past him and traced across the tiny doorway that was cut into the side. The fingernail tapped on the tiny plastic steps leading up to the door and then Bethany slowly flicked over the tiny mailbox. Steve watched as her eyes landed on the single enormous sandal on the other side of the shelf. There were more tiny rustic looking fake wooden steps here leading up to it. It almost looked like some sort of a swimming pool.

"Aww. Is Miss Linda lending my tiny pervert one of her sandals? Do you like that one, Steve?"

Steve's cock grew hard as he watched the light in his mother's green eyes transform into a predatory gleam. Steve did not try to escape as his mother's hand lowered over him. This was just not right, thought Steve, as he watched the thumb and index finger lower over him. That was not his mother's movements, not entirely, there was a little bit of Linda to that, replacing the hastiness, the thoughtless casualness which had always left terrible bruises in the past. Had it only been three weeks since he had last seen her?

Steve looked into her eyes, holding fast to them before the hot flesh obscured his view as it captured him. He had proof of gentleness. His mother had been practicing how to not incapacitate with her touch. She cared. She took time to care about him.

Then it didn't matter, the enormous pads captured him entirely and immobilized Steve almost painfully. Steve's stomach fluttered as he rocketed upwards. He was dumped into the sandal, right where Linda had left dark marks, burnishing the leather sole into a shiny varnish with sweat driven and scrubbed by the gigantic musculature of those beautiful toes. The enormous index fingertip kept Steve company inside the toe of the sandal, slowly tracing over the greasy contours.

"Does it smell good, Steve? Do you come here to jack off when mommy's shoe just won't do it for you anymore? I can see that. After all, you sleep in mommy's shoe now. At some point I guess you have to get used to the smell of it."

Bethany's face lit up in a huge grin as the fingertip gently knocked Steve down.

"I like that! That's funny! Now mommy's shoe smells like home, doesn't it, Steve?"

The fingertip gently traced over Steve, immobilizing him face down into the dark concavity where Linda's big toe held court. The digit let up slightly and he army-crawled, trying to get out from beneath it's immense bulk.

"I just came in to say hello to my little man! I'm very proud of you, Steve!"

Bethany lowered her face over the sandal and pinned one tiny leg to the oily leather, halting his pitiful escape.

"You've moved into your first real home! Not exactly how either one of us had envisioned it, sure, but that's okay!"

Bethany relinquished for a moment, resting her finger on the sandal's rim and she smiled at him as he scrambled up to his feet.

"I knew you were never going to amount to very much."

The finger left it's roost for a moment and Steve was denied his change of posture, ending up once again on his face.

"Of course, I didn't think that would exactly end up like this either."

The fingertip stroked down him before letting go. Steve rolled over and rubbed his bruised thigh as he stared up at her.

"Linda said I should count when I do something bad to you. Did you know that she did that? She's very thoughtful. See, whenever Linda does something to one of you little bugs so that you can't breathe, she counts! That way Linda always knows when to let go so that you don't pass out. Linda even told me how long she counts to. She wants me to be a responsible goddess. Just. Like. Her. Isn't that sweet? She is very sweet. I love Linda."

Steve felt a chill run through him. His mother's mouth had grown tight, her teeth were set with a tension, her chin was hard. Like someone roughhousing with a pet, or when someone was on the verge of anger or of an action.

"I've said hello to my little man, but now I want to say hello to my little doll. You don't understand, do you, Steve? How can I put this? Mommy likes it when you're limp. It really turns me on to have you completely helpless! So, until you figure out how to make mommy happy like that, well, I'm just going to have to count! Thanks to Linda, I know just how long it takes. Oh, if you want to, Steve, you should struggle. It makes it better for mommy. Mmm!"

Steve's eyes were huge and he launched up from laying in the vast imprint to his feet with a shout. His mother stared down upon him with a smirk. The finger extended gently and Steve was caught in the chest with the tip of the fingernail. He was tossed into the waist high rim of the sandal and as he rolled down the incline he was pinned by the fingertip.

"One, two, three, four, five, six..."

Bethany brought her face close as she whispered her count and watched the skinny little legs kick. At one point the struggling slowed and then Bethany could sense it: magic time. The lull in Steve's tiny struggles lasted for only a few seconds before being replaced by something much more animalistic and desperate. She grinned as the struggles became a fluttering and then there was an abrupt stillness. Bethany removed her finger and gently gathered up her tiny morsel. She laid her little doll into the palm of her hand and brought her eyes down low over him. She rolled him underneath a fingertip as she smiled. She had been waiting for this and knew that it wouldn't last long at all.

"Hi. You poor little thing. Bethany will take care of you. I know just what to do."

The huge fingertips took hold of the tiny foot and the delicate body was slowly dragged across the swelling heel of the base of her palm. Bethany's huge green eyes laughed as they took in each limp limb which chased the bony torso drunkenly. She positioned the tangled heap onto the baby-soft and milky skin of her wrist. Bethany wished she could keep him like this longer. She didn't yet know how to appreciate Steve's brief helplessness at all, but this seemed delicious as a start. The red tressed colossus pressed him into her silky softness gently with her thumb. She held him there and concentrated on the tiny body.

Bethany uncovered the tiny body and took hold of one of the tiny hands. She began to slowly drag him across herself as she studied him with an enormous and geosynchronous green eye. Bethany giggled softly, she was growing quite warm now down there. She loved her doll, loved tiny Steve as well. But, especially her doll.

Bethany was going to need a cigarette and soon.

Maybe Steve would like to join her?

Chapter 3: Salad Days by V11

Steve was sixteen again, and he was in that terrible place, a teenager doomed to miss a July Friday night. He wanted to howl at the indignity of adulthood. How could anything be worse than this? The restaurant's carpet was horrible, it was stained and there were awful plops of darkly aged chewing gum imprisoned for all eternity here and there around the booths. The whole restaurant smelled bad, at least to Steve now that he worked here, though the frequent customers seemed to enjoy it. The scent was an endless saturation of fresh pizza steam that had aged into some grotesque funky caricature of pizza, like stale perhaps rotten Parmesan rinds suspended in an encasement of hardened tomato sauce.

The windows were smudged, some of the melamine surfaces were peeling on the front counter and had been repaired with white glue and duct tape. The cash register was ancient and there were stuck keys on it which one could only use after weeks of trial and error divining the correct and individualized esoteric technique with which to press each one. Perhaps in the 70s this restaurant's styling was futuristic, but not anymore. It was ugly, the exterior made out of weird angles and terrible colors. Whenever Steve was working he had the distinct feeling that this restaurant stuck out into the street. Steve had always wondered when there might be a traffic accident and some mangled vehicle might come through one of the walls.

Steve hated it when classmates would come to eat here. He hated that the pretty girls, the fortunate girls would have to see him in his "monkey suit" as he liked to call it. Scratchy, tacky, entirely unattractive synthetic cloth made up the thing. Thank goodness for the synthetic cloth, because there was absolutely no chance of the teenagers being set on fire in an industrial kitchen. If they were, then hurrah that this cloth-homage to 1950s technological prowess would instantly be transformed into a liquid napalm. Then there was the ridiculously heavy name tag of plastic. Not only did it draw one side of his shirt's chest out into a shape resembling his grandmother's tit, but there was the hat as well. Exactly where in the world would one need to wear a cloth visor inside of a restaurant? Even in Barbados the sun was not that bright. There was no need to see what one was doing, simply slap the ingredients onto the round of dough, put on the soot-colored conveyor belt, light fuse and get away. As Steve's sixteen-year-old mind saw it, the entire getup was created to strip young people of their dignity.

The pizza was good. Steve couldn't stand it. He used to love it, but after two months of the smell he could not bring himself to eat it any longer. Steve did battle in the walk-in freezer for twenty some minutes before he was able to catalog each item. He stepped out into the bright, humid world of the kitchen and for but a moment it smelled delicious. This faded even by the end of his first intake of air beyond the lizard-skin patterned silver monstrosity that was the walk-in's retro-futuristic door.

Steve made it to the front counter and avoided getting anywhere near the cash register. It was Shelby's turned today to deal with the money side of the operation and Steve avoided eye contact with the gracious-yet-nervous teenage girl. Rot! Rot in the hell that was the cash register! Suck it up, Shelby, and learn how to smile like a businessman, your dead eyes clashing with that warm, forced gesture. Steve's own eyes roamed across their clientele until the breath caught in his throat as he took in that familiar, angelic face.

It was her! The exchange student from Liechtenstein, or was it Norway? Wait a second. Steve remembered now, she was an exchange student from Crisco. No. Footland, yes, an island next to Jutland. No, Goddammit! She was a cheerleader, a senior, very beautiful, very terrifying to Steve.

She had an accent. Steve remembered now, she was an exchange student from Minneapolis, that was Iceland's capital, where she commanded an army of clones…Goddammit. Breathe, Steve, don't worry about where she was from, she's here now, enticing you, hoping that you'll stick your cock…

… right into her scalding hot pizza. No, Goddammit, that is not it. Steve wiped the grease from his hands onto the grease on the front of his pants and picked up two menus, one for the lovely exchange student from… shut the fuck up… and one for her… friend?

Steve made his way over to where the two women sat. He managed to avoid the chewing gum and beer stains and that awful place where the old man vomited up after drinking three pitchers of their piss-weak American pilsner about a month ago.

God, she was so beautiful as to be difficult to look at, radiant and terrifying as ever. The girl? The woman, really -she was a senior after all- watched him approach with those big blue eyes of hers. She was smiling a little bit, just detectable at the corners of her mouth. That was a smile filled with amusement and a hint of pity. It was the monkey suit. It couldn't be the fact that Steve had in fact, no ass, and the navy blue and awful pants were required to be held up by a tightly cinched belt around his scrawny waist.

"Welcome to Pie Whore! My name is Oxygen Deprived. Ahem. My name is Cock Face. Ahem. My name is Step on My Balls as You Laugh. I'll be lapping up your... Ahem. Screaming undernea- Ahem. Taking your commands this evening. Ahem."

The beautiful exchange student from... Puerto Rico, perhaps really an unnaturally tall albino... smiled. Steve was lost in her azure blue eyes. He turned to hand the other weighty and laminated menu to her companion and he coughed in shock.

"Mother! What are you doing here?"

Bethany smiled proudly at her young man and graciously took the greasy menu out of his stunned hand.

"Well, I had just gotten home from work when wouldn't you know it, there was a knock on the door. This wonderful young lady was asking for signatures for her senior classes project. They're petitioning our local Congresswoman to help in alleviating the plight of millions of women- to have the cost of sexy shoes lowered."

The beautiful blonde interjected, "it's actually a cost of fucking increase! To be applied retroactively, covering the last one hundred and fifty years. It will be offset by the reinstatement of white male slavery. Selling young men like your son here to horny Russian women will recoup all expenses."

As Bethany listened, nodding her head, she leaned towards Steve and without taking her eyes off of her companion she unzipped Steve's fly.

Bethany flourished her other hand, "well, there you go! Oh, Steve, do you know Leeenda?"

The beautiful blonde corrected her, "sorry, it's actually pronounced Leeeeeennda!"

Bethany took hold of Steve's cock and freed it from his pants. She grabbed him by the tightly cinched belt and pulled his hips up to the table's edge. Steve's cock lay on the table like some kind of a pallid, newly awakened and wholly frightened hors d'oeuvre.

"Yes. Well, sorry about that. She goes to your school, Steve!" Bethany leaned in close to Steve and hiding her mouth behind one of her hands whispered to him, "she's a foreigner! Just so exotic!"

Linda smiled cheerfully, "I love America! We don't have ugly people or the malcontent in my homeland! We are all beautiful and try to help one another! I'm hoping to go home armed with what I've learned here and help foment for a change! A broken education system and dead-end jobs for everyone! Financial stagnation! Our long-standing social mores need to be replaced by unfocused fear and a sense of intense cattlehood! Everyone should be expendable! Except for babies and the very, very rich!"

Bethany smiled at the doe-eyed and hopeful Linda as a hand worked at a task beneath the chipped tabletop. She finally placed one of her high heels in front of her on the table and whispered conspiratorially to Steve once again.

"Their cheese isn't pasteurized! Can you imagine? They don't even use antibacterial products on their children. It's chaos!"

Linda looked up at Steve and fervently took his hand in hers.

"I was hoping that you and I would meet! I like how scrawny you are, as if your development was hampered by a lack of micro-nutrient rich foods when you were a child! I cannot imagine such peasantly deprivation coupled with such incredible excess! I have always wanted to know someone who was a potential candidate for A.D.D. Oh, Steven, your mother tells me that you like to sniff her shoes and take that ugly little thing of yours and-"

Bethany slammed the high heel's stiletto-spike into the head of Steve's cock. She was swinging it like a carpenter driving a nail, the straps meant to anchor her toes in place were wound tightly in her fist. She slammed again and again as Steve howled. One of Steve's coworkers caught on fire and began to screech from beyond the trashy counter. Outside a dump truck plowed through a tight clump of hobbyist bicyclists. Two-thousand dollar bicycles and their garishly dressed riders crashed through the windows all around Steve. Linda held his hand tightly as she smiled up at him, blonde, of course, obviously dumb as a box of rocks. Bethany continued to hammer away, the corners of her mouth stretched wide in her demonic clown-grin.

Bethany loved her doll, there was just something special about Steve being so helpless. She knew exactly what that was, she enjoyed having him like this so much really because it was Steve. He had always been mouthy, always into something, never still, never quiet, almost never honest with her. The limp doll responded to the prodding of the cruel municipal sewer-pipe sized digits by becoming ever more anguished and tangled.

The tiny naked body lay haphazardly in his terrifying mommie's humongous palm. Steve looked like he had been ejected from something, a car, a catapult, perhaps something in a low Earth orbit. He looked like he had crashed here, all that was missing was a trail of debris, or a crater. That's how jumbled the diminutive limbs were, one leg was folded at the knee and underneath of him. One arm thrown upwards like a mock exaltation, the other it's forearm and hand tucked beneath the small of his back.

The fingernail prodded the tiny hard cock again, causing it to almost vibrate like a spring door-stop. Bethany grinned silently as she stifled a giggle with a swallowing motion. The tiny cock was punted sideways again, in exact time with it's dream version that withered under the assault of the makeshift stiletto-hammer.

Bethany wondered what he was dreaming about which had given him such an adorable stiffy, what did tiny young men dream about? Knowing Steve it was most likely her, mommie's ginormous punishing feet clad in his current favorites from her vast shoe collection. His enormous mother. Bethany wanted to know what that was like, what was she like? What did she look like? Sound like? But, also, what was Linda like? She felt a twinge between her legs. Maybe he was dreaming about Linda. Linda was almost too much as it was. Bethany just could not imagine her friend as a frightening sight. There was something about Bethany's mind, or maybe Linda's beauty, that forbade such a conjecture. That was tantamount to visualizing a horse as predatory, a toddler's tricycle as swift, yogurt as macho fare.

The tiny cock was rubbed and flicked again before she rolled him over onto his stomach, face down. Maybe he was dreaming about Jesse? That was a likely scenario to Bethany. They had dated since their freshman year of high school. Inseparable. Bethany held her breath and came closer. She nudged the tiny head with a pinky fingernail, rolling it back and forth. There was a lot about Jesse packed tightly in that impossibly tiny thing. But, Steve was hers now. Completely. Jesse knew that well enough. Bethany could tell that the tiny girl had rightfully surrendered her hold on Steve.

Bethany straightened back up and removed her other hand. She pinned the tiny body underneath of the thumb tip of the hand which held him as she stood there in the closet. She should open some wine soon and think about what she was going to do tonight to relax. As she was lost in thought she idly rolled the tiny doll back and forth, enjoying his soft body beneath her thumb, like a warm piece of pasta, like some stubborn breathing impediment scooped out of one of her nostrils. Bethany removed her thumb and looked down, she smiled and with a tiny movement of her wrist she caused her pretty doll to jump upwards off her palm only a hair's breadth before it crashed back down, tiny limbs akimbo.

Bethany gathered up the tiny legs in a pinch and held him in front of her face. She nudged the tiny head and pulled away as there was a jolt of activity suddenly. Steve came to, she watched as he blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Then he was thrashing, yelling something which became lost in the space between his tiny form and her ears. Bethany laughed and gently tweaked the tiny cock like a tuning fork.

"Were you dreaming about me, Steve? That toy of yours sure is hard. I've been trying to play with it. That's not easy to do, little thing."

His legs hurt, the muscles in his calves were being used to support all the rest of him. They burned terribly and Steve's face was flooded with pressure from hanging upside down. He was swinging as the unstoppable fingers brought him closer to the face. His mother's green eye was his destination. It flicked back and forth over each feature of his tininess.

"I think it's time for worship. What do you worship, Steve?"

He did an inverted sit-up and grabbed the back of his own thighs. He felt relief in his face, the air seemed strangely crisp as it flowed through his nose, perhaps the blood in his face was heating it up before.

"Cheeseburgers! No, wait, Pink Panther cartoons!"

The huge eye shut and Steve was taken aback by the action. It was still there, right beneath the unfurled skin canopy. Steve could see the perfectly circular bulge of the cornea, larger than a disk-shaped plastic snow sled as it slid beneath the eyelid in tandem with it's attentive sister. His mother's fingers propelled forward and Steve crashed into the hedge of eyelashes. He let out a surprised yelp and let go of his legs. Steve was moved away as he swung back and forth. The eyelids parted and she focused on him again.

"Linda is so sweet, isn't she? I'll bet she coddled you. But, you're mine now, and I'm going to… shape… you into something I find pleasing. Linda was right, you are tiny and vulnerable. But, you are going to shape up! You're going to do that for me. You're going to be my little tidbit. Nice and compliant. I like that word, that sounds about as bad as it is."

Steve couldn't help it, he flipped her off, both hands waving his insult, he pumped his arms. He wanted to jam them into her pretty eye. His wish was almost granted as he floated closer to the enormous, shiny globe.

Bethany blinked.

Steve felt like he was hit with twenty bamboo canes simultaneously. He cried out and clamped his hands over his welted face. This analogy was spot on, each eyelash was quite long and curved like a samurai sword blade. His irritated goddess blinked again. This time Steve's face was spared the assault, but his hard cock had been hit directly. He yelled out in pain and his hands flew to shield his vulnerable junk.

"You're going to be worshiping me from now on. You are going to revisit some places, Steve. Where you hurt me, where you took advantage of me. I'll be accompanying you on your little tour."

She dropped him into her hand and closed it over him. The enormous being began to walk, her footsteps sounded like steadily metered dynamite blasts in some distant canyon. There was the sound of a big zipper, not pants, not a purse. Then there was rummaging, crinkling, the big zipper again.

The long fingers unfolded and Steve was pinched up immediately. He almost passed out from the speed of his descent. Then he was hovering in front of a small flashlight, the kind someone like his mother might keep in her purse. There was something else there too, as he watched the other enormous hand worked open the smallish cloth bag. His mother upended the flashlight, lens upwards and turned it on. Her fingers fought inside of the bag and retrieved some sort of an object Steve had never seen before. It was sky-blue and looked to be made out of a plastic, shaped very much like a bell, complete with a very short stem-like handle and flared sides. It wobbled as Bethany held it closer to him. Steve realized it was most likely made out of silicone, plastics were not that soft and rubber did not have that translucent sheen.

"You can thank sweet Linda for this idea, Steve. We were drunk and she blurted it out suddenly. You don't know what this is, do you? It's because you're a stupid young man. I'll show you in a little bit, but I suppose I could leave you with one word to think about: bathyscape. I guess someone should have paid attention in school!"

Bethany lowered the bell of it down over the lit flashlight and giggled as she let go of it, leaving it there perched and glowing from within.

"I want a cigarette. Yes, I'm smoking again, lucky for you! You haven't had a cigarette since Linda shrank you, have you? Well, I bet you'll get a buzz just off of the secondhand smoke. Here, Steve, mommy wants both of her hands free and I'm not putting you down next to your little shoe house. Linda has too many shoes on that shelf. I don't want you hiding from me."

Steve was lowered down into his mother's cleavage. She carefully wedged him in place and giggled. He was up to his ribs in the soft press of her breasts, the heat threatened to overload his tiny body. The view was incredible as his mother began to move. The air in Steve's tiny form was forcibly expelled as the enormous globes around him trembled, shockwaves from her footsteps racing through them and emptying his tiny lungs a split-second after each dull explosion.

Steve quickly adjusted to his view, it was almost like playing a video game. He almost felt like he was the one walking, except his viewpoint was a bit too short for his own height. He knew where the counters should be, where the top of the refrigerator should be, that particular angle which he always took in decorations hanging on a wall.

The irony, a chance to see the world like a big person while an inch tall and Steve was stuck with an illusion only capable of maybe four foot in height at most. Hands that were not his took hold of the front door's knob and then they were outside.

Chapter 4: Just a Smoke by V11

It was a nice and balmy summer's evening. The first thing that Steve noticed was the prevalence of clear stars in the night sky. Linda must live out far away from the city. He could tell which direction the metropolis lay, the left side of the sky was more milky and opaque, the star's pinpoints choked out by the light pollution.

This sky was Steve's sky, but there was nothing else he shared with the people who lived their lives beneath it. The rest of Steve's world was composed of a ditch or crack made of gently rounded walls. Through this flesh throbbed the pulse of the colossus, the huge heart itself could actually be faintly heard behind him, deep and strong. Above the tiny man these wonderful walls gradually parted, becoming a gently composed shelf of porcelain flesh. Steve could unroll a sleeping bag onto this shelf to one side of this wonderful crack. He could lay down and watch the stars, his only company the tiny imperfections of skin, the little cheerful freckles which his mother constantly strove to keep to a minimum.

Far above him the backdrop of his mother's neck swallowed, plunging internally, the great muscles rippling before resetting. Steve watched as the underside of her jaw tilted downwards. A pack of cigarettes could be heard somewhere below being manipulated. For a long moment Steve could see that familiar face from a very strange angle, all of her features foreshortened and in a line, a single plane. Her chin was first and right beyond it her bottom lip, the rest of her features were laid out like a strange obstacle course beyond the first hurdle of her lips. It was… odd. One thinks of faces as straight on, but there is much more dimensionality to the human form, to the face than just the conversational default position. Bethany's face seemed too flat from Steve's unusual vantage.

If Steve could run this course what would the finish line be? Would it be the long eyelashes springing outwards from the pale terrain like twin stylized Egyptian fern sprays? Could he leap onto the watery surface of one of her immense eyes to be swallowed and trapped behind her eyelid? Logically, the finish line of the maternal obstacle course would be the distant forest of loose red curls. Steve could slip in and become scarce within the tousled mane. Would Bethany chase him? Would he be hunted by huge exploring fingers? Perhaps his mother would be content and amused. Perhaps she would leave him be, her own tiny witch's familiar clandestinely privy to everything which took place around her.

Fingers swept in, rising over him from below. The index finger plunged into the crevice in front of him, driving apart the flesh. As it plowed towards him Steve was suddenly no longer captured in the soft grip of the enormous breasts. With a startled yelp he slid downwards to where the breasts were humid and tacky.

"Where are you at, little thing?"

Steve's tiny sliding body slammed into the fingertip as it came on. He had no choice but to try and wrap his tiny limbs around it futilely. He was so small that he could not do much more than a token clasping of the broad diameter of the mighty column.

"There you are! Why don't you come out of there?"

He had the air driven from him and his face was smashed into her fingertip's ridges as the thumb pressed in from behind. Steve was plucked out from the enormous breasts. Bethany was smiling at him, an unlit cigarette dangling from her lips. She held him sideways in her monstrous and dainty grip as she peered at his tiny form hidden between her fingertips.

"I want to see something."

Steve was laid down gently into her other hand. Bethany immediately retrieved the cigarette from her mouth. She held it by the tobacco end and prodded Steve with the filter as he was sitting up. His head and shoulders were caught, impacted straight on by the three foot diameter pillar. Steve was slammed back down onto his mother's seamed flesh. The filter's rough end had dimpled the top of his chest and he knew the same temporarily imprinted stippling was across his chin and one of his cheeks. His lower lip hurt, slightly split, but only the top layers of skin. There was no blood, just a stinging ache that Steve knew would swell slightly. This was something he used to deal with quite a lot when he played basketball with the neighbor's son.

The enormous pillar hovered horizontally next to him for a moment before the mighty fingers deigned to let it rest up against him on her palm. The huge face swept in overhead and the amused green eyes looked over Steve and the cigarette's filter. He immediately knew where this was going, he only had to see the eyes make the association once: this is how long the filter is, now, this is how long my pathetic toy is. Steve watched as his mother's enormous mouth curled slowly upwards into a mischievous grin.

"Oh, fuck no! No! Oh, fuck no! NO!"

"What's wrong, Steve? You look like you've seen a ghost. Is something bothering you?"

Steve rolled away from the filter and scrambled up onto all fours. The cigarette was levered upwards off of the palm with the slightest movements of Bethany's freshly manicured fingers.

"You're so skinny. I don't like it when you move like that. You look like some sort of creepy little spider."

The speckled paper covering of the cigarette filter slammed into Steve sideways, he might as well have been sideswiped by some felled tree clinched in a logging machine's great steely clamps. Steve was tossed into the curled wall of his mother's fingers which ramped upwards beyond the front of the palm. He settled deeply into the trench formed from the webbing between her ring finger and middle finger. Tiny Steve's head and shoulders were wedged in the salty crevice. He groaned morbidly as he tried to shake off the effects of the collision. He could hear her laugh as he struggled to free himself, tiny arms seeking a good place to apply leverage, tiny legs looking for an equalizing anchor point.

Somewhere beyond Steve's demeaning head trap was the unmistakable flinty catch and ratchet of a lighter being struck.

"I've got something for you, Steve. Here, I bet you need this."

Right when Steve had gotten everything together and was ready to back out of the little crevice cigarette smoke flooded around his head. Steve coughed and slipped, his left arm became trapped as that shoulder became mired deeper into his mother's finger flesh.

The end of the cough was crazy. Steve experienced a powerful head rush, the combination of the nicotine and his nearly vertical head-plant had conspired together. But, he had to admit, it was nice to have a cigarette, or secondhand smoke, however one might state that.

Steve finally freed himself and rolled over. Above him Bethany was shrewdly watching him. She was smiling in amusement. Steve realized that his mother was beginning to affect him a bit like Linda, though much cruder. It was the casualness of their power, Steve realized. It was erotic, certainly, if left alone, if it was only that. But, Linda had a way of finding the sweet spot where the effortless power resided, then she would force-feed it into you as you gagged and retched on it. Bethany was merely majestic, absolutely mighty no matter what she did, because she was so panic inducingly huge. So was Linda, so what was the difference?

Steve realized it was because Linda could exploit the size difference so well. Steve almost swore that Linda had experienced being tiny herself. How else could somebody know that much about the helplessness? What was the difference? If Bethany would threaten to squish you, leering demonically as she towered over you, Linda's solution to accentuate your helplessness would be to silently rape you with a lollipop as she read a novel. One solution left you trembling in fear for your life, the other solution left you crying, tiny and utterly helpless, a complete insect.

The problem with this summary, as Steve saw it was that the whole thing was a sliding scale. Bethany was learning, from Steve, from Jesse, from Mike but mostly from Linda. Linda was not always so insidious, sometimes she just liked to squeeze and trap and stifle.

Steve watched as Bethany puffed gratefully on the cigarette. Her eyes looked out across the yard into the distant trees and for a moment she looked rather peaceful. Then she settled on Steve again and smiled.

"Do you want a drag? I'll give you a drag, Steve. We can share the cigarette if you want."

Bethany slowly twirled the cigarette until the filter faced Steve. Both ends of the enormous object trailed vapor from them, but the coal was like a steam engine. The colossal redhead maneuvered the filter down next to where Steve was.

"Climb on. You better hold on tight, little thing. Do you understand?"

He wasn't going to do it. He just wasn't going to do it. There was no way, this was a terrifying prospect. Steve hated heights. The only reason he didn't succumb to his fear since his tragic reduction was because the colossi were so vast that Steve rarely felt at risk of a fall. When he did experience a dizzying height he was always fighting for breath in the crevices of tremendous fingertips or toes. Or parked backwards in Linda's sumptuous lips.

Bethany's face came much closer and the smoke did not seem to affect her.

"I'll pop that little body in my mouth and then I'll smoke the rest of this cigarette. Your choice, little thing."

Well, that was easy. Steve threw a leg over the warm column and scooted in place.

"Good boy. Hold on tight now."

Steve's strange perch was slowly brought upwards. His view was entirely of Bethany's vast canvas of a body. Then he floated in front of her mouth. As she spoke the thick sound waves hurt his face and he felt his tiny fingers and toes ache as his cock grew even harder, tingling in the sonic assault.

"I'll be sure not to hotbox it. You're too tiny for that. You would get all burned up, wouldn't you?"

The lips slid backwards and she smiled, showing off her massive teeth as her distant eyes crinkled, peering down the shining, freckle-punctuated landscape of her face Steve tightened his grip as the cigarette slid forward. The column in front of him darkened as it disappeared into the incredible gateway of her cavernous mouth. She wasn't just going to take a drag from the end.

"Mother! Oh, fuck! You're going to crush me! Please! Please don't-"

Steve was underneath the tremendous pillowy roll of her upper lip. The lips closed and Steve was driven into the cigarette. Wind shrieked and whistled around his tiny body, he was the only obstruction to a complete seal on the cigarette. Steve was screaming, partially out of fear and also to help him abide with this wildly unpredictable event.

The vast lips parted and Steve was torn from the cigarette. He kicked and screamed, his back stuck to his mother's immense upper lip. Her hulking fingertips were almost instantly on either side of him and he was smashed between them, just in time, as the lips unfurled into a broad smile. She had caught him between the fingertip of her ring finger and her thumb with the hand which held the cigarette. Steve's tiny upper body dangled upside down from the firm pad's crevice and he choked on the huge cloud of cigarette smoke which erupted from his mother's mouth. She looked him over as her hand tilted, amusement filling the vast face. The tip of Bethany's tongue swept across the little patch of upper lip where he had been anchored and then she took another drag on the cigarette.

Steve was swept into the curving wall of his mother's chin as she took a large puff. He slammed against the greasy, hot cliff as the flesh above him churned, lips pursing against the rank filter. The hand rotated and he was gently laid into her other palm. Steve heard the enormous exhale and then the smiling face blotted out everything else.

"Oh! I'm sorry Steve! You didn't get any, did you? I promised I'd share!"

The index and middle finger lowered over him rapidly, the enormous cigarette was wedged between their fingertips and it trailed smoke into the sky. Steve fell to his ass and tried to shield himself with his arms. The fingertips came on, the brown tinged filter wedged between them pressed him flat, pinning his upper body and head into the hard maternal flesh beneath him. Bethany was giggling as Steve roared, there were wisps of smoke still being ejected via capillary action from the smoldering tobacco pillar which shot upwards like a great mast. Steve began coughing and choking, his tiny struggles having squeezed some of the filter's filaments together expelling smoke onto him. Then the enormous cigarette was gone. Steve wiped at the gluey saliva on his face and legs. His skin burned where the filter had touched him. Nicotine.

He felt like he had just taken off of an aircraft carrier in the back seat of a fighter jet. He swore he was slammed down into the contours of Bethany's vast hand. Neurochemical processes scampered in a panic just beyond the thin bone covering of his tiny skull. He was floored and he knew that this could make him very sick, perhaps it could even kill. His mother's pretty face was grinning.

"I think you might be turning green!"

He was deafened with the thunderous roar of her laughter.

"I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to stuff that skinny little body into a cigarette. Would you like that? Ooh! I think I'd like that, Steve! I'll put you in the filter. I already know that you will fit. But, mommy has plans for you tonight. Maybe we'll do that tomorrow, hmm? Give you something to look forward to."

Beth's hand which held the cigarette swept in over the top of him. Steve began choking as a wisp of smoke drifted across him. Bethany brought him closer to her face and scrutinized him as her pinky finger invaded his tiny world. Steve was badgered by the fingertip. She nudged him with her nail and rolled him an entire revolution across her palm as the enormous cigarette waggled far above him, sending ripples of blue-grey smoke upwards.

"Feeling sick? Oh, Steve! You're not moving around very much, are you? Mm-hmm."

The intimidating little finger claimed Steve, pinning him to her palm. His entire tiny form was covered beneath it, trapped hopelessly beneath the very end of his own mother's littlest finger. The enormous digit pushed the air out of him as he ridiculously tried to fight back. It raised up off of him and the huge face had a little smile upon it as Bethany's face drew in even closer over him. Steve could now see nothing else other than his mother's vast smiling face above him. It seemed like she was trying to examine him with her pinky fingertip. The enormous digit dabbed downwards slowly and lightly as he tried to fight her off with his tiny limbs. Bethany was grinning smugly as her fingertip effortlessly ignored the slender little arms, decisively trapping Steve's tiny skull beneath it against a sweaty crease on her palm. She held him like that for a moment before the digit pulled away, hovered just above his tiny head.

"Mommy likes you so much better when you're still. That way I don't have to be reminded that it's you. I've put up with too much of your shit, Steve. Too much grief for one child."

Steve was losing the battle, the nicotine was too much for him and now all he could do was lay there, nauseated as it coursed through his system. His mother was smiling as her digit touched down onto the creased skin next to him. The fingertip tilted, pressing the glossy edge of the fingernail into the palm's skin, demonstrating that to her at least, the flesh beneath him was malleable. The pinky finger's nail slid against his shoulder, nudging him as he sputtered. Bethany smiled peacefully as it was used to delicately touch his tiny head. She rolled it back and forth as Steve bellowed helplessly. The glossy edge of the fingernail threatened to casually break his tiny nose and teeth as it played against him. She restrained the sticky, screaming nib between the edge of her fingernail and palm for a moment as he quivered uselessly. Then the fingertip was gone. The impossibly huge face of his own mother pulled away slightly just beyond the gigantic landscape of her hand. She took grateful drags on the enormous cigarette while watching as Steve gasped for air. Steve finally rolled over onto his stomach and knelt there raggedly as he panted and occasionally retched.

The immense middle-aged goddess took a drag and pondered him. She coughed suddenly and the seamed landscape of flesh beneath him quaked violently. Steve was tossed to his face and splayed his arms and legs out wide, seeking purchase on the tacky flesh. Bethany narrowed her eyes.

"I don't like that. You look so creepy. Like a creepy little bug. You know how mommy doesn't like bugs. I never have."

Bethany let the cigarette droop from between her lips to free her hand. She casually extended her enormous index finger and lowered it over her open palm.

"Mommy likes dolls though. No matter how tiny they are. Dolls don't bite like bugs, don't crawl around like bugs. They don't talk back. They don't fuck your shoes while you're at work."

Steve scrambled away from the fingertip which loomed overhead. The enormous face frowned and he was slowly flicked. The long nail collided with him and he was tossed backwards. The air had been driven out of him and he saw stars. Steve lay panting on his back as his mother's finger was replaced by a thumb which lowered over her palm.

"No! Please, mom! You can do whatever you want to me and I won't move! Oh God! Don't! Don't do that! I won't move anymore! You don't have to-"

The huge pad of Bethany's thumb smashed the tiny mouth in mid-plead as it's salty ridges trapped the tiny face. The rest of Steve's tiny body was driven against it, quivering like a rag caught against the base of a boulder in a high wind as it plowed downwards. The thumb raised up and Bethany slowly pet him beneath it as he trembled, desperately trying to deny the instinct to struggle as he held himself perfectly still.

"Well, I'm going to make you into my little dolly now, Steve. Do you want to count along with mommy? Hmm?"

The thumb blotted out Steve's monstrous mother's smiling face as it settled back onto him. He scrambled, throwing himself across her tacky, pleated skin as it descended. Steve managed to thrust himself forward at the last moment. He kept his tiny head and one thrashing arm free of her thumb as his mother's dense, ridged flesh finally halted his desperate movement.

"Please don't do this! I'll be good for you! You don't have to... Please don't-"

Bethany was smiling comfortably, easily. With a slight movement of her thumb Steve was properly covered up and centered underneath of it.

"Say good night, Steve."

Bethany smirked and her colossal thumb dominated Steve beneath it, completely sealing around him like hot, wet concrete.

"Just like that. Easy peasy. Good night, Steve."

The pressure increased and Steve could not breathe. He was in a sea of cruel, maternal flesh that held him in place as his tiny lungs cried out for oxygen. Each spoken number made it's hushed way through the tons of flesh which entombed him.

Bethany completed her count and removed her thumb. She tilted her hand and nudged the tiny form with a finger. Bethany took one final drag of the cigarette and flicked it into the yard.

"Let's get you cleaned up. I have plans for you."

The doll was trapped completely in a sweaty crease as her fist curled around him and then the colossus began to move.

Chapter 5: The Plunge by V11

"Let's get all that icky nicotine off of you."

Steve was in a beautiful and tiny Asian dish belonging to Linda. It was apparently made for dipping sauces. Bethany was not Steve's caretaker. The differences were quite obvious. Bethany's intimidating fingertips would continue on after they had collided with his tiny form, Linda's perfect digits would stop just as she came into contact. The result was that, while his mother was gentle, Steve was almost driven into unconsciousness repeatedly. This act of bathing him that was simple for Linda to do all on her own required Steve to scream when tiny joints were pushed close to dislocation, when delicate limbs became accidentally caught in the crevices between tons of massively thick appendages and were twisted in unsafe directions.

Finally it was over and Steve was laid into her hand. He forced himself to crawl on his stomach across the ridged terrain immediately after she had freed him. This was a precaution, a way to circumvent drowning. Water did not exactly follow the same physics at such a tiny size and behaved a bit more like slightly polite cooling caramel. Steve finally broke free of the surface tension and the inches-thick liquid coating pulled away from his naked skin, preferring to stay on Bethany's ridged and vast surface. He came to rest a single body length away from the thickly viscous pool where Bethany had deposited him.

They were fingers and eyes and, of course: mouths, feet, awe-inspiring legs, impossible breasts. But mostly these two colossal women were fingers. Every single interaction up to a point was largely driven and created entirely by the frightening fingers. Steve knew Linda's intimately and understood that Linda knew this as well. When Steve thought of Linda he was sometimes mentally torn in his internal representation of her. Her face won out always, in the end, perhaps because it was instinctive or automatic, but that never felt entirely right to Steve.

If plainly honest then Linda, to Steve, was the index finger and the beautiful thumb of her right hand. If she was angry then Steve was not trying to avoid the beautiful face. If he needed protection, Steve would only be trying to get her eyes attention so that she could bring to bear her fingers upon him. Their power was mostly represented and primarily lay in these little bits of themselves. Even Bethany was quickly becoming at least partially this aspect, uniquely, huge, dominating and surly fingers. After all, her mighty feet could not care for Steve the way her ten most trusted servants could.

Steve found this to be incredibly dreadful. This is what it meant to be a toy, an insect.

Bethany laid Steve down on the kitchen counter next to the little dish.

"I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

Steve's heart was pounding. It had to be the sudden influx of nicotine. How was that even possible? The molecular difference in size? Or was there a difference? Regardless, it felt good to be clean. Steve drifted off for a few minutes and then was woken by the sound of Linda's electric wine bottle opener protesting as it freed a cork. The thunderous tremors grew louder and then his mother was staring down at him.

"I'll just let that sit there for a little bit. Linda says some wines need to breathe, I frankly don't get it and if I did, I wouldn't know which ones. Let's go and get more comfortable."

Steve was gently retrieved and she took him into the living room. Her enormous fingers folded over him and Steve shut tight his eyes before he took in sight of the gigantic things collapsing down around him. As he lay in her fist he could hear obvious noises; a belt, a snap, a zipper and rustling. He knew that she was removing her pants. Only a few moments later his warm cavern evaporated and she was staring at him. Steve had problems interpreting the look.

Bethany raised her other hand up between her breasts and Steve. It was gripped in a loose fist and she slowly rotated her wrist as her thumb extended. The scarily thick digit lowered over him and Bethany tilted it back slightly so that Steve could see her skin that lay beyond the pad of her thumb.

"Do you remember this, Steve? You see this? Right here. That's a scar. When you had a hangover and you were being a prick about mowing the lawn? Do you remember now? The throttle cable broke and you had to drive mommy to the emergency room, bitching the entire time that I didn't need stitches. That it was too small for stitches."

Bethany's digit lowered slowly and Steve began to tremble.

"I'm sorry! Come on, we already went through this a long time ago! No, no, no no no! Huh-uh! This shit isn't fair at all! I already apologized!"

"Do you still think it's too small?"

Steve knew it was too late, if he was going to be a fool he should have already gotten up. The scar was right there, half as long as he was tall, an ugly multi-fissured gash.

"Stop it! Fucking stop it!"

Steve was trapped beneath the huge girth. He was pressed lightly and held there, the strangely textured scar tissue pressed into his tiny body.

"Kiss it. Tell me you're sorry."

He did. She seemed satisfied and removed his huge assailant. She was trying to look angry, but her cruel amusement was bleeding through it. Bethany turned and sat down on the couch. Her hand lowered until Steve was about level with her belly button. He was captured in a pinch. She wasn't wearing any panties. Bethany raised her shirt with her other hand.

"Look at all of these! This is from you! I tried cocoa butter, I tried olive oil, I tried wound cream, nothing could get rid of the stretch marks. I used to look good in a bikini. Not now. Especially not now. I'm not Linda, am I? I almost look my age. You scarred me, Steve, and then you've aged me with your fucking pranks. Your stupidity! Bailing you out of jail, worrying about how you would support Jesse's child. Stealing. Pot smoking."

The amusement dwindled as she spoke and was finally hidden behind something that looked more like genuine anger.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please-"

"What was this all for? Look at you! Look what you've become! I had to go through all of this just to end up with some pale little worm? If I would have known that you would end up as a bug, well, let me tell you, I think I might have just ran you over with the car years ago."

Steve flew through the air slowly and the monumental expanse of skin became nearly mountainous. She chose one randomly and Steve was gently stroked over the stretch mark.

"You know what to do, don't you? You had better."

First one, then another, then another. Steve kissed and he talked to her, talked to each one of them. This went on for quite a while and it didn't take long for Steve to begin crying. It was strangely cathartic, her smell, her taste mingling with each one of the misdeeds he had perpetrated through the stupidity of his youth. See, each scar on his mother was one of his crimes. It made sense now. She was a saint. She had really tried. It didn't help matters when Steve would look up and see that face watching him, her mouth a thin line. She was vast. Absolutely massive and all around him. Steve fell inwards, he had screwed everything up and now he was just a toy. But, he was her toy. He passed humble and regretful and then repentant. Steve coalesced into grieving and he stayed there.

Bethany raised him up to her face and stared at him for a moment in disgust. He was kissing the flesh of her fingertip. The tiny thing was weeping and he stroked her reverently, sorrowfully.

"Well, I'm done with you. I'm done with Steve. Steve is gone. Are you Steve? Huh? I know how tall my son is! I know what he looks like! You are not my son."

"Please…"

"Maybe you used to be. What percentage do you think you are? Hmm?"

"I don't understand-"

She couldn't hear him. He was too tiny.

"I know what you used to be, so what are you now? One quarter of one percent?"

"Mom…"

"Sounds about right. It looks about right. That's all you are now. A quarter of one percent of my son. Not much left, is there?"

Steve stared. He was empty. Funny how something so small could be empty. One might think that something so tiny would be stuffed, brimming with things, with Steve. She was wrong. There wasn't that much of him left. Linda had taken most of it out. She reached into him, pinched it between her nails and tore it out of him. Teddy bear stuffing.

"I think it's time to start over, don't you?"

Steve just stared at her. Nothing was moving inside of him. He was hollow.

"I know what you are. What you're going to be. I'm going to reshape you. Get rid of Steve. I tried with him and I failed. Maybe I won't fail with you."

Bethany lowered him to the table and laid him down. Her knees rose just beyond the table's edge like… Steve thought of the strange rock formations… in China? He couldn't remember. Linda must have gotten that part too. She took it out. Pluck.

Bethany undid a resealable bag and removed two bottles and a large cotton ball. Steve lay there like a broken toy and watched as the enormous fingers manipulated the strange objects. Something smelled like alcohol. He watched as Bethany took up the strangely bell shaped object and ran the cotton swab over the inside and then the outside of it.

He watched mindlessly as she shook the blue bell like some sort of a mercury thermometer, airing it. Then Bethany placed a glob of something from the other bottle on the rim of the bell. Steve watched as she smeared it around carefully with her finger.

Bethany held it up to her face and looked it over before looking down at Steve. A small smile crept into place and Steve watched as her eyes became filled with something. He began to tremble. There was something familiar… it was like Linda in those green eyes. He could see Linda's supernatural gleam there. Almost exactly.

"Time to go back where you came from, Steve. I don't want you anymore. I just want this tiny body. I want my doll. Just my doll. So you go back where you came from, okay? You failed. Let go. I just want my teeny tiny toy. There is no need for the rest of you."

He just laid there as the fingertips struggled slowly to remove him from the table. Bethany brought him up to her face and she looked him over before tilting her hand back and forth. He was limp and this caused her to smile.

Bethany gently placed the tiny body into the menstrual cup. With a fingernail she scooted him to one side and then collapsed it in a very particular way. Steve was completely limp, allowing the motions of the object around him to roll him where it may.

Bethany hunkered back on the couch and tilted her hips in a particular way. She spread herself open and carefully inserted the cup up into her as she kept it collapsed. She situated it as deep as she dared and then slowly opened her finger, allowing it to spring back in place.

The air was made out of humidity. It was hot and dense. So dense. There was a smell, it was everywhere and Steve could taste it even though he was breathing through his nose.

Where was he?

There was a bright glow. Did he care? Shouldn't he just lay there? Didn't she say she was done with him? But, which one was he? Was he Steve? Was he the doll? How could he know?

Why was there a bright glow? Steve shut his eyes as he cried. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to care. Why couldn't he just lay here? Why did he have to answer questions? Why couldn't there just be no more. No more anything.

He sobbed for a while. He was scared. He was frightened of moving, frightened of thinking. He had screwed everything up and now…

One quarter of one percent. That's all he was. Hell, a strong breeze could blow away only that much of a person.

Why was there…

With a terrible groan Steve rolled over and sat up.

In the center of the strange object was a glowing five pointed star. It was a glow-in-the-dark piece of plastic made for a child's bedroom. This is what was lighting up Steve's prison, turning the sky blue silicon into aqua.

There were sounds.

A distant heartbeat, a muted and strange sound, like wind through trees or like fingernails on nylon cloth. Breathing. It was breathing muted and made strange. There were gurgles, a comical squeal of gas being displaced in an intestine or bowel.

Steve looked up. He began screaming.

There was an enormous fleshy bulb which hovered squatting down into the Gaudi-like architecture of the vagina. It was Bethany's cervix.

Steve had come full circle. She was going to reabsorb him. It was crazy. Who's crazy to think that? That was Steve. Steve thought that! There he was! He had to get rid of him!

The tiny young man shrieked and jumped to his feet. He held the sides of his head as he stared upwards. He had to get there. He had to get there. He had to get rid of Steve. Then there would be no more pain. Her scars will be gone. His scars will be gone.

Steve shrieked and again as he took in this alien landscape. That thing up there…

It was going to eat him.

Chapter 6: Well of Souls by V11

He was trapped.

Not only was he trapped in this body with the unwanted Steve, but he was trapped within this strange inverted diving bell. There was no way that he could get to the enormous structure which acted as a distant ceiling in the unmercifully muggy cave. The rubbery walls were just too tall. He sat down next to the glowing star.

Then his world shook. The little man was thrown into the wall as everything quaked in a constant rhythm. This happened for more than a minute before it was replaced by a terrible sensation which made him feel sick. He swore that his glowing prison had spun a full turn. More quaking. Then the tiny man was slid across the floor before slamming into the other wall.

There was no sense to it other than his goddess was moving around. He had to get there! She would not be satisfied until he vomited what was left of her ungrateful son back into her womb. That's what she wanted, it was so clear to him that she didn't even have to explain it. They were synchronized, the goddess and her doll. At least that's what he thought.

Bethany took a glass from the cabinet and grabbed the wine bottle. She made her way back into the living room and poured herself a glass. Having Steve inside of her like this was torturous. She almost felt like she could orgasm at any time, but she knew that she was far from it, it was simply an overwhelming sense of arousal she had never felt before this strongly.

Bethany drank half the glass down, it was almost a dutiful act. She wanted to at least start drinking the bottle before she satisfied herself. She scooted forward until her hips were almost off the edge of the seat and laid back, her head curled, chin almost touching the top of her chest. She couldn't take it any longer. She needed to scratch this itch.

His prison tilted like a prank-bucket wedged above a door. The tiny man was spilled, rolling across the wall -what was now a floor- and tumbled off the rim. He was filled with the tremendous heat from the flesh surrounding him. He was coated in her magnificent juices. The tiny thing began to make his way towards the gateway so he could finish the exorcism. He had to learn quickly how to move in such a place. Was it slippery? Was it sticky? He couldn't decide. Going was rough, there were enormous ridges to traverse.

Bethany's eyes grew huge and she gasped. That was Steve! She could feel his tiny movements. She had to pause as her scalp tingled fiercely. The sensation was so strange that she could not decide if it was the most erotic thing she had ever experienced or something else less savory. She shut tight her eyes and her face twitched as she dug her hands into the cushion on each side of her. What was he doing in there? Her answer was quite quick, the tiny thing was going deeper rather quickly.

He was almost there! Just ahead was the enormous bulge, the gateway, the well where Steve would be ripped from him. Just a little farther to go.

Bethany still fought to not cry out. The sensation had grown strange, the pleasure wilder but her resentfully autonomous nervous system grew even more unhappy, protesting with each tiny step. Then she felt a change. There was a light pressure, like a lover bottoming out deep within her, but so slight as to almost be ethereal. There was a tiny churning sensation and she knew where he was. At first the feeling was making her feel sick but as it continued it changed into something altogether different.

He jumped and landed belly first into the bulge. His entire body hung there for a moment and then began to slowly slide back downwards. The tiny man almost was swallowed by the dark trench which ringed the bulge. He pushed off frantically in a panic and stumbled, falling into the hot froth. The tremor shook everything for a moment and he realized in his slick tomb there were no handholds, no features his scale with which to cling to.

He ran and jumped this time, slamming into it. Again gravity took hold and he was forced to wrench himself free. Again and again he tried to surmount the mouth of the gateway. Tremors shook his cavern, they were increasing in length, the time between them was growing shorter and the quakes themselves were stronger. Finally he had it, up and onto it in a way that gravity could not find him. The tiny former person slowly inched across this vertical surface, his little fingers and toes gripping the slick downy-soft flesh as he pulled himself along.

The tiny man was covered in something thicker than the hot frothed fluid of the tunnel. It kept him bound closely to the vast bulge like a frightened child. There was an enormous plunging divot in the center of the bulge: the well itself. The miniature creature had made it. It raised it's head away from the cloying surface and retched. He stayed there coughing and heaving, panting while he clung at the edge. Everything was shaking. How would he know when Steve was gone? Would he vomit forth some glowing form? Some ethereal ghost?

As he did his work the tunnel grew wider yet the surface it was composed of seemed swollen, everything seemed dripping now, slathered in copious amounts of the slick fluid. He could not pause and so turned again to face the well and began his task anew. Why wouldn't he leave? Was he being stubborn? But, that was why he had to go to begin with! The little creature fought him, trying to push him up and out of his mouth. It was his mouth now, not Steve's! This was his body now!

There was a muted roar which he heard through the walls of the cavern. The tunnel behind him convulsed spasmodically. It pulsed, seeking to lend him supernatural help. The time was now! He had to complete his task, his goddess had opened the way and he knew she could not keep it open for long. He reached into his mouth with his own fingers, feeling for that stubborn, combative ghost.

Bethany's orgasm was so intense that she realized she was driving her own fingernails into the palms of her hands. She tucked her legs up tightly to her breasts and screamed into the cushion where she had buried her face. Another wave swept over her and then another. She smiled as she worried about soiling Linda's nice couch. Bethany rode out the whirling storm of endorphins with her face turned and buried into the back of the couch.

As the wave subsided she began laughing, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes. She had never experienced anything like this. Bethany laid there, legs curled tightly to herself and she ignored the murmur of her clenched muscles. She needed to stay like this a bit longer, she was so fragile right now, she couldn't move yet.

He lay there plastered on his side, just beyond him was the well. He was bawling, tears of intense grief mingled with the salty mucus of the bulge. He had failed. There had been no fireworks, no special effects spewing from his mouth. No Steve. The tiny creature wailed, his throat hurt as he constricted it tightly in his crying grief. He punched his thigh and punched again. He slammed his tiny fist into the side of his own head in absolute despondency. Then he curled up and wept, a tiny and vulnerable doll plastered like a wet leaf to the incredible pink and glossy structure.

Bethany finally got up and walked into Linda's bedroom. She put on one of Linda's wonderfully sumptuous bathrobes. She retrieved her cigarettes and stepped out into the backyard. This was no neighborhood, there was no one to see her back here. Bethany lit up, enjoyed her cigarette immensely. As she smoked it she thought about what she felt up inside of her. It was very subtle, but she knew where he was, he was the change, the slight weight, the slight resistance where there should be none. The tiny thing wasn't moving. Maybe he was in trouble? Most likely he couldn't move, after all she was standing. Bethany knew intuitively that the tiny body was plastered, mired to her.

This was the end. He had failed. Far below him was the glowing star surrounded by the turquoise chalice. All he would have to do is pry his back away from this gluey surface. Could he face her? Would she squish him? Visions of his colossal goddess rolling him between her fingertips until he was nothing more than a stain filled his fevered mind. There was time yet to mourn. Since she was his goddess, it was her right to end his pitiful life if she chose to. She would still have her scars. She would still be angry about that.

The doll's tears fell like rain away from him. He lay there like some sort of an anguished Renaissance angel in flight painted vividly upon the dome of a cathedral.

Chapter 7: A Little Face Time by V11

It was Linda. The glowing turquoise chalice was slowly collapsed in upon itself, flattened into a jellyroll swirl by a pretty fingertip. Slowly the fragile doll's old prison cell was slid backwards and then hidden by the fleshy folds that were much like enormous blood-filled cabbage leaves.

It was Linda. She was chiding Bethany, one of her other perfect fingers repeatedly brandished and tilted in a wag like some splendid, sexy magic wand. She was going to make everything better, she was going to show this tiny doll her keepsake box that she kept girlishly under her bed. She was going to let him look through the pieces of Steve that she had collected, let him choose which of the good bits he might like. Then the gorgeous being would lay him on her knee while she stuffed each piece into his tiny mouth, tamping it in with a pretty pinky fingernail to make space for the next sanitized Steve shard.

No, Linda was not going to do that. She was going to give him to his owner, and then she would reduce him to infinitesimal pieces strewn through a pulped liquid.

Linda was back, the incredible pink folds were pushed through slowly and for a few seconds the interloper was a distant pretty finger exploring and probing the ridges closest to the outside world. Then her finger became deceptively large, for a moment the tiny doll thought perhaps it was the size of a bullet train, but that was a stupid exaggeration. As it came on he realized that this was not Linda. The finger was stouter, perhaps even slightly larger around than the blonde's digit. It was his goddess, his owner, the one which was soft on the outside and hard as steel beneath. It was not the enormous, radiantly golden woman who was actually granite which enclosed a nurturing but fierce guardian secreted within.

He thought she was playing with him before the kill. The digit collided with him and pushed him across the bulge in several different directions before the tiny doll adhered to it finally as it pulled away. He was drawn slowly towards the pink-tinged light. He had a thought that this reminded him of some science fiction, something he was familiar with from some point in his past. A heartbeat in stark silence as the intrepid hero flew slowly down an alien corridor, weightless and fearlessly lucid.

But he didn't have a past or memories to draw upon. Dolls didn't do anything on their own, there were no landmarks to punctuate the passage of time, there was no life to demarcate into segments. Dolls were objects. He was not created with a tiny soul like something inanimate in a Shinto-infused world. He was just a doll, just lost for a bit, a hopeful yet ultimately disappointing servant unable to complete a simple task. He would pay dearly for this. This was his part today, his role to play. This is what dolls did, if you wanted to over-complicate the matter with vulgar shorthand. They were stand-ins, symbolic placeholders for things like heroes, villains and disobedient, perverted sons.

He was sliding. The enormous, froth covered lobe of flesh whisked him smoothly from the slowly gliding fingertip, a very efficient squeegee. There was a low rumbling giggle as he slowly slid down the monumental labia. An auburn hair obstructed him from below and then as his mountain sized owner moved the hair neatly stole him from her flesh. He dangled upside down, the stiff, coaxial cable-like hair wilted under his insubstantial weight and the tiny doll was deposited into a thick forest of gleaming hair.

"You're not going to get away from me that easily! Come here, little thing."

The beautiful pale goddess sipped her wine from a gracefully executed wine glass as her other hand greedily sought the tiny motionless doll. Four vast fingers found him and with the assistance of the frightening thumb they confounded him into the field of pubic hairs. The fingertips which dwarfed him assaulted his tiny form clumsily, rolling and pinching at him. Bethany was paying more attention to drinking her wine and the fingers playing in her pubic hair only made matters worse for her delicate toy.

The red hairs wrapped chaotically around him as he was rolled and batted. His tiny limbs were bound, most of them to each other or his cute and vulnerable torso. One arm was held hostage out away from him by the pubic hair as he was pushed accidentally by a fingernail. The long, translucent hairs slid and caressed across his doll-sized genitals, their smooth and sliding lengths tickled the toy cock into life and pulled it coyly away from his replica body. The stiff filaments ran across the blank face and one bisected the mouth, running across the well sculpted but fake tongue.

The fingers paused, reminding the former young man of a pile of enormous public playground slides. She had finished her wine and placed the flute down onto the coffee table. The incredible being laughed so loudly that it transformed into a thunderclap.

"What have you gone and done? You look so pitiful like that! You poor thing."

The thumb and index finger pushed their way through the hair as if it were nothing at all. They pounced on him, gripping him gently and holding him steadily as the other hand lowered. His owner watched from on high quietly, almost meditatively as the mighty digits slowly pulled away strands of hair from the tiny wet body.

"That's good, little bug. I like it when you don't struggle. I like it when you're quiet."

He was nothing compared to her. She was holding him like he was a pendant-style earring, except he was so soft and incredibly frail. Finally the titaness had untangled him completely. He lay on her upturned middle fingertip, limp, the tiny and ineffective limbs the loose thralls of gravity. He looked like something from an Italian museum, some hitherto unknown statue, an anthropomorphized Roman spirit known as Defeat.

His owner's largest bouncer, reserved for the rowdiest of clients, lowered and kept him in check against the other fingertip as she moved around on the couch. He was floated over the top of her face as she lay there on her back. A finger from her other hand idly touched one of the tiny dangling limbs and she smiled at him.

"You look so sticky! Did you enjoy the tour? Are you reborn because of it? Refreshed? Was it informative?" Bethany smiled and chuckled as she watched the limp thing slump from her pinch.

"Ooh. Are you all tuckered out? Mommy likes how nice your being right now. I really like it."

He was lowered over her incredible face. Bethany rubbed him against the tip of her nose like a tiny flower. The doll offered no resistance at all, even as his face was dragged through the bitter tasting oils which gave the pretty face it's shine. Bethany raised him slightly and smiled broadly upon spotting the flushed and stiff cock. She nuzzled the tiny thing into the broad tip of her nose and then gently stroked just the diminutive red member across her oily, pore-laden skin there. The doll was tearing up, the acidic oils stinging it's tiny fake eyes and matted the fuzz between it's legs with the heavy and dusty liniment.

"Yes," she whispered, "that's my good dolly. As long as you stay like this, so nicely helpless, mommy won't squeeze you with her great big scary fingers. Mommy won't have to do any counting. See? I can be nice if you're nice."

Bethany ran the tiny thing slowly down her neck and then brought him up to her eyes. She teased one of the tiny arms out away from his body with her nails and took hold of it. She gently released him from her other hand and he swung there, dwarfed like a bit of saffron pinched between her fingers.

Bethany lay him against her cheek beneath her eye and slowly dragged him down her face. She repeated this simple action time and time again. She smiled at him through heavily lidded eyes and then shut them. The limp doll was lowered onto her eyelid and she let him rest there for a moment, enjoying actually feeling some amount of tiny weight in such a sensitive place. She caressed each of her eyelids by dragging the tiny form slowly across them. Bethany finally had to stop, this was mesmerizing and coupled with the vacancy left by her endorphin flood it was tempting her into drowsiness even further.

The weak jointed toy was dangled over the luscious mouth. Even this was filled with an obvious power, each miraculous lip was half his height in thickness and he already knew that they were deadly at this size, even in their penchant for kissing. The poor little thing was slowly lowered and the lips animated, spreading and arching upwards to greet the tiny legs. Each of the precious twigs was captured and released playfully, the dreadful, snake-like undulations displaced his realistic blood back against his simulated pulse. The mouth played with him like he was a windsock, squeezing and batting the tiny form with the playful movements of a storm surge.

She surrendered him onto the sumptuous bed of flesh. The plaything lay face down and motionless as a dreadful hum sent the flesh into a violent, tight oscillation. The tiny doll's vision blurred into a white snow-scape as he lay there. Then the sound was gone and he was left with a ghost sensation reverberating through the highly educational fake nervous system he contained.

The lips swelled upwards in a pucker, taking him with it like an exhausted seabird. They parted and the tiny thing rolled inwards, the hot gleaming surfaces acted as a gentle brake upon him. He landed on the immense teeth and then they too parted. He was in another tunnel. This one smelled different. The bumpy monster made of pure muscle pressed him into the hard ceiling before it undulated beneath him. The limp little thing was thrust forward like a torpedo being loaded. The tiny head was allowed to breach the center of the lips and he was held there.

The tip of the tongue go to work immediately, spreading the tiny legs and initially mapping what was there with smooth and powerful exploratory dabbing. The tiny toy's own private toy was stroked expertly. The gentle prodding and ticklish sweeps of the vast tongue allowed clarity the chance to leap out of the shadows and throw important switches in the doll's wrecked mind.

He blinked. Then the eyes actually focused as something inside struggled to rouse itself.

"Oh, God! More, more! Wait! What are you-"

The massive feminine fingertip came down onto the tiny face just as the dregs of Steve were trying to reform. He was stymied by the ridged flesh as it smashed the tiny features, likewise, really no more than uninteresting ridges to the mighty redhead's fingertip. The spirit of Steve tried to wake, the clarion of focused and deliberate stimulation had summoned him from the fog of extinction. But the soft and beautiful pentagram-kiss which had trapped him was unbreakable and held him confined for his unwitting demise. The tiny entity was not found and held by Linda's monstrous fingernails to be torn out at the root, rather he was extinguished like a dying campfire. What was left of Steve was squeezed and squished underneath his mother's dominating flesh. The fingertip's endless ridges ran softly across the tiny bead of a face and that was all it took to exorcise the remnants of the stubborn little imp.

"Mother! Mother, plea- I have to- Moth-”

Bethany's fingertip seated itself squarely on the lips, eclipsing the roving, panicking eyes. A moment before Steve came he was gone again and the madness was all that was left. The tiny doll went limp with it's permanent despondency and then it began to cum. It slid into darkness as well, the fingertip had not relented fast enough and the oxygen that it swore it did not need by dint of it's doll-hood was robbed completely.

Bethany did not even realize that he was unconscious again, how could she? He was so nice and compliant for her, so wonderfully slack. The tip of the tongue propelled the confused little tender thing upwards and it collapsed bonelessly onto the smiling lips. Bethany gathered her nice doll up and lay it into her hand by her head. She rolled it softly around with a finger as she lay there on her side, smiling down at it.

"Aww. Did mommy finally break you, Steve? You're going to be good for me now, aren't you?"

Bethany shut one eye and focused on him. She smiled as her thumb covered him up, just one tiny lower leg and a hand left visible. She could feel him breathing and got lost in it for a while. After a bit, Bethany closed the hand which held him into a loose fist and tucked it against her cheek. She drifted into a satisfied sleep.

Chapter 8: A Big Thumbs Up by V11

The morning light through Linda's enormous bedroom windows slowly lulled Bethany into a gentle wakefulness. She rolled over and slept a bit longer, enjoying the sumptuous sheets. Finally the unfamiliar noises of her friend's home brought her fully into a state of self-sustained consciousness.

Steve was no longer in her hand. Bethany's fingertips lightly traced over her face and up into her scalp. In a sudden flood of concern the middle-aged redhead ran her hands over her chest and belly before sitting up and checking her pillow and the sheets below her. She finally found the tiny thing, he was tangled in the auburn curls of her pubic hair. Perhaps she transferred him down there in the night, or maybe she even played with him down there, though she doubted that. Bethany pushed up against the headboard into a sit and opened her legs wide, relaxing them against the twisted pile of sheets and bounty of unused pillows.

His owner's pubic hairs were not so bad. Sometime in the night she had scratched an itch and the tiny thing had plummeted from her hand. The intense springiness of the red patch had saved him from injury. He had spent the rest of the night suspended waist high above the pale skin, tangled rather comfortably in the tight red curls. He was well within the envelope of body heat which sheathed the enormous form. The doll slept rather soundly once he had rearranged some of his chaotic, almost hammock-like suspension of wiry red hair.

By morning the doll was pondering a little piece of his existence. He had moved, he could move, seemingly whenever he wanted. He had done so to rearrange the enormous hairs so they did not choke him or cut off blood flow. He could even roll over, readjusting his tiny spine and limbs when a position had grown tiring. So what was he? Dolls did not move.

Just before the quakes began he had been gazing at one of his own hands, watching mutely as he flexed his tiny fingers. There was a will which controlled this. Was it his owner? Was it because she was dreaming? Was a little bit of her immeasurably huge mind leaking out and filling him with animation? He considered this for a little bit, pondering whether or not he was a puppet. But then the maddening thoughts overtook him. What was even thinking about this dilemma? Was this pondering merely an errant drop of his owner's dreaming consciousness which had become lodged in the tiny, empty skull? How does a puppet ponder the puppeteer? How can a puppet even "be" when the puppeteer is asleep? He reminded himself that he was not even a puppet, more of a toy than anything else. Just an extension of her. Perhaps even a satellite, he thought with a grin.

He, or perhaps she, came to a decision. She was affecting in some way the lifeless doll that used to be known by the name of Steve. While she slept she had perhaps inadvertently breathed life back into this motionless body. He grinned, full of pride and fearful adoration of her.

The thunderous snoring stopped and there was something that sounded like a soft moan. A moment later a quake rocked his surroundings and there was movement somewhere beyond the magnificent hips. He listened intently to strange noises, soft sounds of movement far in front of him. The endless canopy of sheets were thrown away and he blinked rapidly in the sunlight.

"Steve? Oh shit. Steve?"

Perhaps the pernicious and now bodiless spirit of his former occupant was trying to annoy her? The doll earnestly hoped that she would capture him and destroy him once and for all. She could do that, couldn't she? If she could breathe life into him then surely she could devour such a tiny spirit as Steve?

An incredible hand made its way across the gentle low hill of the pale belly. The enormous fingers felt slowly as they went, delicately pressing and dabbing against the vast and graceful swells of pale skin. The thick fingertips gathered in a clump just outside of the fleshy foxhole of his owner's belly button. Two of them gently patted around the sloping circumference of the hole. Was this where the ghost of Steve hid, like some desperate newly-overthrown tyrant gone to ground? The colossal index fingertip stroked across the rim for a moment before tentatively inserting it's great bulk.

The tiny, blank doll could not help itself. It thrashed in effort as it yelled and it's own explosive words actually startled it, "get him! Squish him! Kill him, goddammit!" It struggled to get a better view of it's owners probing digit, hoping fervently she had finally cornered the tiny, bodiless villain.

"What are you doing in there? Are you hiding from mommy in her belly button? I've got you."

Something tiny was tugged free, the doll could only see it for second, a limp gray strand scooped out and laying precariously across the underside of the huge fingernail. The doll strained against the field of red hair which cradled him to see more of it. His owner's intimidating thumb tip, the size of a compact car, cut off his view as it pressed in against the recovered object. The hand left quickly, taking whatever it was past the enormous breasts to the distant hidden face.

"How did you end up down there? Oh! Well, shit, I was sure that was you!"

The awe-inspiring arm rapidly swept back downwards just above the pale breasts. The thumb and index finger of the hand were rubbing rapidly against each other as it swept overhead. The piece of lint was broken free from the mighty digits and fluttered downwards to be lost somewhere in the bed next to the pale island of hips. The great hand resumed its task, propelling the searching digits across the titanic belly. Soon they had pushed their way into the pubic hair. The four fingertips systematically felt through the tangle like some strange crop combine. They slowly churned closer until they overtook him. The tiny body was driven from it's short pubic hair perch and smashed roughly beneath a fingertip.

"What's that? Hmm."

The motionless doll was brutally explored by the ridged pad before the digit folded away. It was replaced by another fingertip which squeezed and smashed the delicate little thing, tangling and savaging its tiny limbs as it was forcibly rolled through the harsh pubic hair.

"Is that you? That has to be you! Oh thank God!"

The fingers were gone and as the doll watched she rose upwards into a delicious landscape composed of pale hills and mountains, topped off with a gloriously wild tangle of hair surrounding the enormous sleepy face. He was on this landscape, and it was in every sense of the word a landscape. He almost imagined that somewhere behind him there lay a placid lake. Something that might look at home in Switzerland, something just beyond the red forest where he had slept last night. His owner smiled affectionately down at him and he wondered for a moment if it taxed her to keep his tiny form in motion and thought.

"I thought I had lost you! Oh, you're all tangled up again! Mommy is sorry!"

Both hands came down over him and he held still as the intimidating fingertips which literally dwarfed him worked gently to pinch and pull free the springy curls from his slender form.

"Mommy could have crushed you! Well, this is the last time I fall asleep while playing with you. I could have suffocated you! You're just so tiny and you always seem to get swallowed in creases on mommies body! There we go, all free now."

His tiny body was completely overwhelmed by the thick fingertips which gently pinched all of him at once.

Bethany was nearly done with her breakfast before she attended to Steve's needs. It was almost immediately that she realized something was wrong. After fifteen minutes of frustration she gave up. There had to be an easier way. Bethany's face lit up with a smile, she was an idiot. She attributed her stupidity to the futility of trying to solve such a problem, any problem, while still well within the veil of morning drowsiness.

Bethany needed help. She knew exactly who to pay a visit to.

Jesse relaxed upstairs in the little half-attic. She wished that the books which lined these rather well painted bookshelves were real. Jesse could use a good story, anything to pass the time. She caught the subtle, repetitive tremors somehow before she really felt them. Jesse instantly pushed the forboding back into a corner of her mind. It was nothing. She was safe here. It would pass. That enormous, hard-headed woman, who might have become her mother-in-law, would just pass on by.

It was wonderful to live in a world that was her scale, even if that world resided within a one foot square plot of fake landscape covered in fake grass and rather frighteningly grotesque plastic trees. She was incredibly thankful to Linda for having built the little replica medieval German cottage. Jesse enjoyed the feel and smell of the wood, and especially now the rare opportunity, the chance to hide away from the truly terrifying grasp of Bethany. The footsteps were causing the fake plastic crockery and every other loose article and object downstairs to clink together all in time. It was like the boisterous chant of a crowd.

Everything shook for a moment as a muted thump reverberated through the tiny walls. Jesse managed to catch herself against the railing. Then there was the telltale sign of Bethany's intrusion into her tiny world: Jesse's ears popped as the air pressure around her was disturbed. Bethany must be slowly removing the Perspex shell which protected Jesse's tiny cottage and yard. Jesse mentally thanked the normally fumbling Titaness for remembering to remove the transparent shell as slowly as possible. Mike had been rendered unconscious when his mother had taken away the Perspex surrounding his own tiny home for the first time. Being an inch in height held countless dangers, many of them were so subtle that they could never be foreseen.

Jesse did not want to face Bethany. A familiar but peculiar fear sought to overwhelm her once again. Jesse had developed a quite natural but still somewhat surprising eccentricity. Once in her home she did not like the intrusion of the colossi. For a time even Linda was dreaded. Jesse had experienced some trauma from suddenly being forced to confront humongous pieces of human anatomy after feeling quite normal and safe in her little cottage. It came to a head one morning. After several failed attempts to coax the tiny woman out, Linda had to finally remove the roof. The poor young woman became hysterical as Linda's beautiful digits made an inadvertent mockery of her tiny, sane world as they pursued and finally cornered her.

Jesse had worked on it.

Jesse steeled herself for the abrupt change, the sudden swindling of normalcy. She started down the stairs, she knew it was much better to greet Bethany just outside the door. Bethany would not be as forgiving as Linda if Jesse developed a hitch. Jesse didn't want a mammoth finger thrust through the front door and wrecking her furniture.

Something bumped against one of the front windows. It was a thumping sound, but soft, normal, not a single-mattress-sized fingernail propelled by a five foot diameter column of elephantine and sweltering flesh. Jesse caught movement just beyond the distorted fake glass. There it was again, thump, thump, tap, tap. For just a moment a face was pressed against a pane of the mock glass.

It was Steve!

Jesse ran down the rest of the stairs and hastily made it almost to the front door. There he was in the doorway. He was listing like a Christmas ornament, pivoting loosely to and fro. Steve's head was lolled limply at an angle on his shoulders, the drunken silhouette of a zombie, a corpse, a marionette. Far beyond the tiny yard were the enormous pale pillars of Bethany's legs just above each knee. Bethany's deep and booming giantess voice filled the air, brought up a comical octave and affecting the drawl of a dunce from some cartoon. Steve's limp body janked up and down in time with her words.

"Well, hi there, Jesse! Do ya wanna come and have breakfast with me? Shucks! You sure are purty! Gosh!"

A triangle of red thread held him up. It bisected his chest horizontally, going beneath his arm pits and it was tied above his head. It led upwards into the sky. Tiny hops, mock steps, were put into him by it as he was dragged closer to her. Steve's rangy body was covered with bruises, some of them frighteningly purple and green.

"Why dontchya come on out here, little lady. I want a kiss!"

Jesse felt her face tugged downwards into an instinctive frown as the tears came. Beyond the prickly fake grass, beyond the tabletop's ledge a vast tangle of red hair lowered like a threatening wall cloud. In a moment half of Bethany's smiling face appeared, lowering sideways as she peered into the tiny door.

"Steve? Steve?"

Jesse ran to him and grabbed him by his loose face. She raised his head in her hands, his eyes were almost crossed, unseeing, no hint of life or recognition within them. The eyes of an idiot, of the unconscious or insane. But he was not dead, he was warm. He blinked, yet was still staring into the void.

"Oh God, Steve! What did she do to you? What did she do to you!"

Steve folded downwards like a wet sheet and Jesse quickly hugged him around the chest to keep him from falling. She lowered him as slowly as she could on to his back. The thick, rope-like thread pooled in ringlets in the tiny yard. As Jesse held his limp and stinking form to her, the panic-inducing thunderhead of curved porcelain flesh which composed Bethany rolled downwards. The enormous smiling head settled, blocking off Jesse's view of the bed beyond it. Bethany's scent, an alchemy of sweat and spent perfume from acres of skin rolled over the little scene as a strong breeze which rustled the little pale green spikes sewn densely across the yard.

"Hi Jesse! I hope you slept well!"

"What did you do to him? Answer me, goddammit! What did you do?"

The vast green eyes stared back, acknowledging only unintelligible squeaks. A brief look of the most shallow of shame, more a slight and passing faux pas of embarrassment crossed the ruddy cheeked face. The fifteen foot wide mouth opened slightly to speak and shut again. A hand suddenly breached the space in front of the tremendous breasts. One of Bethany's mighty fingers flitted and hopped playfully from treetop to treetop like a multi-ton sprite. The hand lowered and after delicately pinching up the thread began to take up the slack.

"He won't eat. Can you help me feed him?"

"Why is he like this? Bethany! What did you do to him? He's all..."

The speckled green irises, the size of circular church windows glanced sideways with brief worry before Bethany's full mouth lit up with a tiny, mischievous smile. The slack was gone from the thread and tiny Steve was pulled free of his ex-lover's arms.

"You don't think I broke my toy, do you?"

Jesse sat stunned as Bethany's massive fingers inch-wormed the thread slowly through them. The limp body had made it to the grass on the other side of the stone walkway. His passing only left a temporary path before the blades sprang back with a crinkling sound.

"Well, I don't think I broke him. He's being such a good little dolly for me."

Jesse stood up and trotted to where Steve was being dragged inexorably towards his cruel, goddess-sized mother. Jesse grabbed Steve by the ankles and tried to keep Bethany from further scraping up the helpless young man.

"I just need your help to feed him, that's all. See how good he's being?"

"Stop it, Bethany! You're hurting him! STOP IT!" It was a piercing, hellion's falsetto.

Bethany smiled at that, for once she did not need the audio setup to understand the tiny woman. Jesse was pulled off of her feet, she struggled to gain her knees again but the enormous fingers kept reeling Steve in. She had no choice but to be dragged along as she sobbed, hugging tightly to Steve, cradling his head protectively to shield it from harm.

"I tried to feed him. Well, it was more like dabbing and smearing food all over his tiny face. I thought about using a toothpick, but I can't find any. Why doesn't Linda have any toothpicks? Well, it doesn't matter, I can't make him swallow. Come on Jesse, help out a friend, huh?"

Jessie scrambled up as Bethany dropped the thread. The enormous fingertips interposed themselves over Steve in the beginnings of a gathering pinch and Jesse was struck by an enormous descending knuckle. She was thrown to her back with a startled cry. Bethany smiled and a thick index finger lowered over the tiny woman.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Jesse struggled to sit up as Bethany gently touched her, effortlessly collapsing the fragile limbs and pinning her delicate body into the crunching grass. The sweltering fingertip, slightly but noticeably larger in diameter than Linda's traced over her, forcing the air from her tiny lungs. It lifted for a moment and Jesse could see Bethany's apologetic face like some greasy and shining parade balloon.

"I didn't mean to, still friends?"

The Titaness leaned forward with a little smile as the fingertip dominated Jesse again, pinning her helpless upper body into the yard as she squealed. The enormous ridges of the fingerprint raked slowly over her tiny breasts. Jesse's sensitive nipples were abused by the deeply set corrugations, like a playing card trapped against the spokes of a bicycle's wheel. Then the finger was gone, leaving behind a moist, perceptible funk all over the front of her.

Bethany had Steve pinched between her fingers. She smiled down at Jesse as she worked free the thread. Jesse got to her knees and had to stay there. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach to see Steve so tiny and helpless in his own mother's monstrous grasp. He was completely limp, offering no resistance at all as the titaness gently maneuvered his slack form just below her face. He was almost visually lost amongst the stocky finger pads which collided against him, trapping and teasing at his compliant, delicate form. The inert Steve was just a sliver, compressed and partially hidden as he loosely flopped in the shadowy cracks of his mother's fantastical anatomy.

Bethany was smiling happily as she finally slipped the noose off of him. She lowered her hand demonstratively towards Jesse, Steve still trapped like some doomed rock climber in the tight maternal chasm of her confident pinch. The hulking thumb and index fingertip hovered in front of Jesse the size of a pair of clasped, mating bison. Bethany twisted her gargantuan hand back and forth, the tiny limbs dangled and flailed, bouncing off the robust flesh. Far within the shadowy niche Steve's tiny head was just visible in glimpses, it was a tiny seed wedged in the crushing vice of twin boulders of flesh. Could he breathe? Was she cracking his tiny skull?

Bethany's thumb and forefinger tilted up so she could appraise the tiny thing she held, "see how good he's being for me? I didn't like the way he moved sometimes. Do you understand, Jesse? He's so skinny. He looked like a little spider and I don't like that. I like it so much better when he's limp, like this," the mighty digits slid past each other, a tiny movement, rolling Steve an entire revolution between them, "So I trained him! This seems like the first time I've ever been able to get Steve to do something I wanted! The very first time! He just had to be the length of my thumbnail first! Who knew? This is so much better. So much better."

Jesse's mouth was agape in horror. She was stunned and knelt there for a moment as Bethany's pinched fingertips flew closer to the enormous breasts. The thumb and index fingertip lowered, just abover her cupped palm, ready to place her son there. Bethany hesitated and her colossal, thickly built digits gently slid past each other again, slowly and delicately rolling Steve between them.

"I really like your tiny bodies. I understand why Linda loves playing with you guys so much." Bethany smiled sweetly and laid Steve's limp form into her palm.

The terrible scene made Jesse begin to hyperventilate. They were both now just helpless, impossibly tiny toys for Steve's own mother. But it was so much more dire than just that: Bethany got off on squeezing and stifling their defenseless forms with her titanic, unstoppable might. Linda could be nightmarish, but even so, Bethany truly was much worse.

Jesse felt her scalp tingle as she watched Bethany lovingly maul Steve with a fingertip far larger than a refrigerator. He was swamped and hidden from view beneath the feminine battering ram which lowered squarely onto him. Jesse's hands flew to her mouth and she felt sick as watched Steve's mother play with his tiny naked body. Bethany's stout fingertip rolled Steve beneath it across her palm like he was some tiny, unimportant bead. Then, as she lifted away for another pass, Steve's little limbs adhered to her tacky digit like rotten cherry stems. He was dragged upwards as her finger withdrew before falling back again to her creased and cupped palm. Bethany didn't notice. How could she? The titaness whispered something unintelligible down at the tiny heap before barely touching some little piece of him with her fingernail. Jesse snapped out of it and balled up her fists.

"You made him crazy! You fucking sadistic witch! Don't you understand? Being tiny and totally naked... as your own mother… plays with you like some… Steve's crazy! He can't get away from you and your gigantic… He's... fucking... he's become catatonic! You made him catatonic with your… Oh God!"

Bethany glanced up from her petting reverie. She smiled warmly at Jesse.

"Oh no, honey! I don't think you look like a little spider. Not at all! You're much too pretty for that, aren't you?"

The pale and sparsely freckled arm pivoted like a boom towards Jesse, propelling the thick finger over her. The index finger lowered and the longish fingernail nuzzled it's cold varnished surface against the tiny woman. Jesse pushed back as hard as she could, but only succeeding in propelling herself backwards a short hop away from it.

"Don't touch me! You're sick! You should be locked up, you selfish, cruel bitch!"

"What's wrong, Jesse? Don't be like that. I really need your help right now. Come on. Oh, hey! Do you like my nails, Jesse? I'm growing them out."

Bethany closed her fingers over her limp little toy as she stroked her fingernail down the short length of her would-be daughter in law. She suppressed a giggle as the tiny thing fought to stay on her feet.

"I've been taking gelatin capsules religiously. What do you think? Maybe I'll be able to get them as healthy as Linda's. Ah, who am I kidding?" She chased the tiny woman as Jesse backpedaled.

Jesse punched the immovable flesh which framed the nail as the fingertip gently danced with her across the lawn. Bethany frowned.

"Ugh. I take it back. You sort of look like a little bug too. You're not a spider though. I don't know what you are. What's wrong with you? Hey, I'm just trying to be nice! I'll touch you if I want to touch you, little thing."

Bethany's face grew angry. The index finger folded away. Jesse felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck as the plump thumb pivoted out from the fist like the blade of a case knife. The stocky thumb drifted downwards and beyond it the red haired goddess narrowed her eyes.

"I think I'll just press the air all out of you. Just knock your bitchy little ass out. Then, maybe when you wake up you'll help me with Steve. Do you understand me, little miss? You're going to smile and be helpful, and say yes ma'am, little dolly girl. Do you know why? Because I've really got you under my thumb. Whenever I want. That's why."

Jesse cried out as the titanic, middle-aged redhead snickered. Bethany was grinning with a dark glee as she guided her thumb down over the tiny woman. Jesse turned and ran, heading for the closest of the fake trees. She was screaming by the time she made it to the first of the awkwardly sculpted plastic trunks as the air around her churned.

"Eee! Eee!" Bethany mocked the tiny, shrill cries, sounding more like a distressed guinea pig. Her laughter filled the air and the fake foliage on the ground and hanging from the wire-cored branches shook.

Jesse slipped around the side of a tree trunk and turned. The miniature, comfortably sized setting of the trees made the instant scene especially upsetting. Bethany's ample thumb sat proudly atop the thick, gradually widening "neck" of her digit that eventually joined the huge mass of her pursuing fist. For all the world to Jesse, Bethany's hunting thumb and fist had become some nightmarish and savagely surreal vision. A grotesque and pallid Tyrannosaurus Rex wholly created from an idiot's selection of parts, which stalked her through the little tree line. Jesse let out a startled shriek and she felt a hard knot of panic spasm in her stomach.

The thumb tip lowered and slid past the tree trunk. Jesse was doubled over, folded neatly in half against the charging thumbnail. Her tiny face and arms slapped across the lacquered shell before she was tossed into the painfully unyielding artificial dirt. Above and behind the trees the perspectively foreshortened face was grinning, framed in by the thick tangle of dark red curls. The thumb came on, as wide and bulky as a small car, grazing just over the top of the grass. Jesse folded into herself as the mammoth digit zeroed in, raising to cover her. She heard Bethany laugh again as the firm, ridged flesh touched her, the great bulk of it effortlessly ceasing any and all movement of such fragile, slender limbs.

"Your my dolly for the week, Thumbelina. You're going to help me with Steve, or I'm going to teach you some manners. Just. Like. Him. I wouldn't mind putting those nice little legs of yours in my mouth while you're out. Who knows? These little dolls always end up in the most interesting of places, don't they? All I have to do is press down a little bit. Maybe not even that, you're so tiny. Maybe I'll just relax my thumb. Maybe no effort is needed at all, hmm? That's how fucking helpless you are, you cranky little bitch!"

The gigantic digit relaxed on to her, driving slowly into her and Jesse's little bones protested mightily. Bethany was right, there was no effort needed. None at all. How big was Bethany's thumb? How much did something like this weigh? As the last of the air was bled out of the pitiful lungs it was forced through clenched teeth as a frustrated growl.

As she divvied out her remaining oxygenated blood Jesse thought on how she hated the obviousness. That's what everything was, obviousness, when one's existence was lived at an inch in height. Stupidly brandished conspicuousness, shoved through reality's merciless and ridiculous steel funnel right into her mouth. It wasn't enough to know that you were helpless. It had to be reinforced, everything was, all of the time. The air she laboriously breathed was ever thick, all sounds except one's own voice and heartbeat were terrible, grating and frightening. The food was never food as she had known it, but grotesque, huge pieces... of things... held together with a gluey, incomprehensible slime. If not that, then a meal might seem entirely palatable, but confusingly held no taste at all.

Simple inconvenience to Jesse was now a rare bliss. Terror, bruising pain and suffocation had replaced the spot where inconvenience once lived. The place where danger once lived when Jesse was just a bit over five feet in height was now replaced with being bodily atomized, with being crushed so entirely that all that might remain would be a red slime. Linda and Bethany were not the only giants. Death itself had increased in size and propensity.

Here Jesse was, so tiny as to be completely entombed beneath a thumb. Not even the whole length of the digit, mind you, but the very end of it. The place where a fairy might alight to giggle as she was gawked at in enraptured wonder. But it was worse than that, this was her boyfriend's mother's massive, unstoppable… it was simply her thumb. It was everywhere, her dense, searingly hot and punishing flesh. Jesse's tiny body shuddered as her little lungs fought for air, her diaphragm bucked within her slender tummy. A thin red cloud tinged Jesse's vision as her mind began to falter sleepily from a lack of air. Bethany did not approve. Bethany wanted them to have the baby. She wanted another toy to joyfully rob of every single freedom, and then eventually to squish. Just like this. Just as casually.

The killer whale sized beast composed of pale human skin, muscle, blood and bone moved a fraction upwards. The tiny lungs did their thing and a few seconds later the asphyxia-drunken consciousness started to regather it's tools.

Jesse blinked as she surveyed the underside of this little piece of Bethany. This wasn't about that unnamed, unfinished child. Not at all. This was about Steve. Steve, the toy Bethany might have broken.

"Do you like it under there, Thumbelina? Is it hard to breathe, Princess? Show me that you're sorry, that you're done with being an inconsolable little cunt. Show me."

Jessie struggled but couldn't free her arms, she couldn't do much more than cause her back to pop. A tremendous giggle split the air outside of her tomb. She began to kiss the abomination pressed against her face. A moment went by before Bethany thundered again.

"You're not sorry yet? Really?"

Bethany couldn't feel her. Jesse stuck out her tongue and began to lick. The sobs started slowly but soon were making it difficult to garner what little oxygen Bethany was allowing her.

"Oh my! You are sorry, aren't you? Oh, that's nice. Mmm. Just the thought of it. That's really nice, Thumbelina, really nice. I like that!"

The enormous thumb rocked backwards on her and for a moment she was able to get a deep breath as her tiny calves were smashed painfully into the ground. Jesse cried out in pain as the thumb curled, see-sawing forward. Her head was trapped, sealed and pinned beneath the barely yielding flesh on the very front of Bethany's thumb. The hard plaster directly behind her head crunched as the massive thumbnail came to rest, edge first into the hard ground. The pressure drove a half-dozen tiny cuts into Jesse's scalp as she saw stars.

Bethany wasn't letting up. She seemed to intentionally be keeping tiny Jesse in this position, as if she were waiting expectantly, her fragile upper body pinned directly against the fleshy tip of the nearly vertical thumb. Jesse struggled and managed to partially turn her face away from the rough corrugations. From beyond the tons of dense thumb flesh she could hear Bethany giggle throatily. Jesse realized her movement had probably been felt and she realized why… She had been through something much like this -but much worse- more than once before. Her shrunken hair on her shrunken head must be downy to the titaness. Perhaps like a tiny makeup applicator, or cotton bud. Her miniscule skull's movement had tickled the leviathan's sensitive skin directly underneath the jutting thumbnail. Almost another full minute went by and the Brobdingnagian bitch was not relenting. With a forlorn grimness Jesse put her tongue to work again, tickling her merciless and amused captor. It seems to almost immediately do the trick.

Jesse's back tingled fiercely as she was lifted off of the rough surface. As feeling returned to the skin on her backside it brought with it simultaneously the sensation of luxuriously cool air. Her tiny free legs slapped against the gigantic ovoid of cruel flesh as the angle changed. Out of the corner of her eye, Jesse could see Bethany's drastically foreshortened countenance. The face lit up in a huge grin and she was assaulted with a gale of a belly laugh.

"I'm sorry, Jesse! You seem to have gotten yourself stuck! You really are Thumbelina, aren't you? Well, let's remedy that."

Jesse was moving and everything around her was a blur. She was sideways, still adhered in the middle of the huge cushion of flesh. Then Bethany's dominating thumb crushed her against something. This time she was not smashed into the uneven and coarse surface of her fake yard, but something thinner, something upright and rough. Jesse was scraped unceremoniously from Bethany against the base of a tree. She tumbled headfirst and flopped painfully to the ground.

Jesse groaned as she sat up, gingerly propping herself against the tree trunk as she watched the hand fly away through the trees like a retreating giant squid. In the sky was Bethany's smiling, appraising face. At the far end of the yard, closest to the subtly expanding and contracting wall of the titanic body was Bethany's other hand. It was cast in the shadow of the overhanging shelf of astronomical breasts as it rested on the ground, thumb and index finger lightly opposed to each other. They were softly and slowly rolling something tiny between them, working it over like a worry stone, like a good luck charm. All that was visible to Jesse were the tanned and twisting filaments, like short bits of angel hair pasta, Steve's limp limbs.

"Mmm. I liked having you under my thumb, Jesse. But, I know you are very sorry, aren't you? You're going to be a good dolly now, aren't you?"

Jesse nodded weakly and drew in an even deeper breath, then she coughed. Her ribs hurt, the back of her head was probably bleeding from tiny puncture marks. A horrible, earthy and strong taste defiled her mouth. Hot, slightly sour smelling wind buffeted everything, blasting down into the trees. Bethany was directly overhead and Jesse stared in revulsion straight up past the enormous chin and lips into the huge nostrils.

"You know what? I want to feel that little tongue some more, Thumbelina. Will you do that for me? You're a good dolly, right?"

The meaty fist pushed aside the bone dry foliage of the fake trees, trailing behind and seemingly towed by the oncoming digit. Jesse was eclipsed in shadow as Bethany's thick fist blocked out the huge, hungry and bemused face. The colossal thumb approached like some massive predator and Jesse pushed back into the tree trunk as far as she could go. If she was against the tree, Bethany wouldn't trap her beneath it again, would she?

"You can do that for Bethany, can't you? I washed my hands before I came in here. You don't have to worry about germs, sweetie."

The wide tip of Bethany's thumb nail hovered in front of Jesse's face. The keratin shield looked to be two inches thick. The edge of the nail touched Jesse under her chin at first and then it readjusted and pressed itself against her cheek, then her lips, smashing them against her teeth as Jesse glared. The titaness could easily decapitate her against the trunk of the tree if she so chose to, crush her tiny skull like an egg shell.

Bethany's eyes were shining, "I want a thumb bath, my precious little Thumbelina. Can you do that for Bethany? Pretty please? Then you can help me with Steve."

Jessie whimpered as the nail tip was threatening to mangle her face. She managed to turn her head to the side slightly. Bethany nodded expectantly, her ringlets of red hair sounding like tall grass in a breeze. Jesse pried open her tiny mouth and gagged as she clenched her teeth down on the flint-hard nail tip. She felt like she was tasting a tremendously thick floor tile. The tiny woman was deafened as the giantess roared with laughter.

The thumb pulled away before damage was done to the tiny face, shaking counterpoint to the laughter. It pressed down expectantly against the floor, crushing the papery, green blades beneath as it. Jesse stared at it in horror. She jumped suddenly with a yelp. There was a heavy tremor as the tremendous hidden feet adjusted themselves far below her in front of her cottage's tiny table. Long, red tentacles of hair snaked down through the tops of the trees all around her. Bethany's eyes were coming closer, she wanted a good view.

"Well, I'm waiting, little thing. I want to feel you licking it. Show me how frightened you are of me. Show me. Show me how big I am."

Jesse pulled herself up with the aid of the tree trunk. She limped slowly towards the offered digit. It pivoted in place impatiently, bulging outward thickly.

"You had better hurry up, little thing, unless you want to end up underneath of it again! Get a move on! I want you worship my thumb. Make love to it with that nice little tongue."

Jesse painfully sped up her steps until she was close to the waiting appendage which crouched like some monster out of a feverish bad dream. She shivered and hugged herself to offset her visceral disgust.

"I'm going to squash you, tiny little girl. Just like a bug. Is that what you want?"

Jesse nervously knelt to the side of the thumb, trying her utmost to not touch it. She craned her neck out, running the very tip of her tongue against the greasy, bulging wall. An immense sigh shook the fake foliage above her and she was thrown on to her ass as the bulky digit reared upwards, the tip of the huge thumbnail effortlessly bent back a few fake tree branches.

"I thought I told you to worship me, little thing. That is definitely not worship."

Bethany was smiling down through the trees as she casually covered up the tiny body with her overstuffed instrument of destruction, "I thought you would know how to handle a thumb, Thumbelina. It's just my thumb and it's even clean. I'm not asking for a lot, you know." Jesse was scrambling maniacally, scraping her skin against the mock ground. Above her the massive thumb adjusted, keeping her beneath it and threatening to crush her into the stale, fake earth.

"Where exactly do you think you're going, princess?"

Bethany could feel the tiny back and dark hair brush like a ghost's tickle against her thumb's pad as Jesse crawled. The giantess relented and placed her thumb directly in the path of the miniature woman.

"Last chance to get it right before I pop you like a boiled pea. Worship. Lick."

Jesse threw herself against the hot, bulging mass, reaching widely with her tiny arms. As she sobbed she ran her tiny tongue through the salty grooves which decorated the dense, shining skin. The immense digit rocked against the fake ground, dragging Jesse's tiny feet before taking her with it. Jesse's soft nakedness became quickly fixed against the dense skin by the sparse shimmering of the thick sweat and oils, like small, hard to spot dollops of packing-grease which oozed from the pore-studded ridges.

"That's it, Thumbelina! Mmm. I like that! Aww. The beautiful little bug girl doesn't want to be squished after all. You're just adorable, aren't you?"

Jesse had been stoically obeying up to this point, ignoring the tears sliding down her cheeks. Bethany's words stung her and combined with the vast, smiling face hovering just above the tops of the little fake trees she felt her discipline erode. She began to sob as she defiled her own tingling, salt-defiled mouth.

"But, you're not really making love to it, not really, are you? I go to all this trouble to grow out my own nails so I can handle you little bug-people humanely. All of this effort to make them pretty and all you want to do is smear that tiny mouth all over me? You're not some cheap, run down hooker, you're my little Thumbelina!"

Bethany reared her thumb as Jesse yelped, clinging to the bulging side.

"Maybe I have it all wrong. I've seen you with Linda. I've watched you wrap those little bug-legs around one of her fingers like it was your lover. I've watched you fuck one of her fingers while she held it still and smiled sweetly. But, that wasn't you doing that on your own, was it? Linda did things to you first, didn't she? Bad things. Wore you down. Made you fall in love with your kidnapper, what is that called? What is it? Swedish Sickne- No, umm, Berlin... Berlin Insanity? Umm. I don't remember. Aww."

Bethany gently deposited the limp body of Steve onto the ground beneath her incredible breasts, freeing up her other hand. She raised her thumb up to her eyes and looked over the tiny crying girl. Her face was sad.

"You miss Linda, don't you? You poor little thing! She really fucked you up, didn't she? Goodness. Then Steve goes and begs me to be his Giant Mommy Shoe Goddess. You poor thing, you've been abandoned, haven't you? One lover stolen, the other gone on a trip to the Twin Cities for who knows how long."

Bethany gently pushed Jesse off of her thumb against the flesh of her palm with a gentle, slow swipe. The great bulk of Bethany's deadly thumb did not leave after getting rid of it's tiny passenger, but hovered there above her palm. The stocky digit squeezed against itself as it folded down. The frightening green eyes were just beyond the pale palm once again and held an amused, predatory gleam. The digit loomed over Jesse, the broad thumbnail like some great axe blade embellishing a murderous pendulum. The edge of the nail touched Jesse's tiny torso and gently pushed her onto her back.

"Poor little thing. You're all alone now. I bet you miss my son's cock too, don't you? Miss that teeny-tiny little toy filling you all up inside."

Bethany separated the tiny kicking legs, interposing her thumbnail between them. She dabbed clumsily at the almost microscopic slit hidden by the patch of dark hair.

"The way you two would always go at it. You'd liked that dick, didn't you, Thumbelina? But I'm confused… Could you help me with something? When he was fucking my shoes, was he thinking of this? Or... -now this is just weird- when he was giving it to you, was he thinking of my shoes? I have sweaty feet, I know. But there's no way these two things feel at all the same. They couldn't, could they?"

The nail's inches-thick edge found it's nearly invisible target and pressed in. The keratin edge slid slowly and delicately through the length of the tiny anatomy, bringing away a tiny bit of fragrant moisture. Jesse was screaming hopeless obscenities as Bethany smelled the end of her thumbnail mockingly. Jesse rolled over onto her stomach and began to scramble across the pillowed valley of the cupped hand. The mighty thumb was back, hovering just over the top of her slim little body. She was utterly dwarfed by it and knew just how easily Bethany could accidentally crush her tiny rib cage, break and scatter her ridiculous vertebrae, smash her tiny legs into jelly.

"Too bad you're too tiny to wrap those little legs around my thumb. You would do that, wouldn't you? If I played with you enough, right? If I broke you like Linda broke you. Like how I broke Steve, hmm? Train you to do little tricks. But I wouldn't want to hurt Linda's favorite little plaything. That's why I'm growing out my nails, sweetie, so I don't ever hurt you. So I can do all sorts of things with precision, just like Linda. Because you are just so wonderfully teeny-tiny, aren't you?"

The thumbnail herded the tiny scrambling girl as Bethany grinned. The huge face came closer and whispered musically, "teeny-tiny!" The colossal redhead smirked and the broad edge of her thumbnail pressed down against the entire length of Jesse's naked body lightly, crushing and holding her against the pale flesh of the palm as she wailed.

"Well, you can't have my feet, those belong to my teeny tiny toy. Come to think of it, Steve has a lot of me as his own private playground. My mouth, my toes, my pussy, even the end of my cute little nose. But, you can have this thumb, Thumbelina. It's all yours. Bon appétit."

The huge face was smiling pleasantly as the edge of the thumbnail repeatedly tamped itself into Jesse as she hoarsely protested. Jesse struggled, trying to crawl away, trying to protect herself, but it was useless, there was no place to hide. Bethany's plump thumb lorded effortlessly over the entirety of her cupped palm. The thumbnail's edge was used to gently test the innate resiliency of the lilliputian bit of helpless, naked meat. Jesse's tiny body was lightly bruised, the thick keratin edge was indiscriminate, prodding against the tiny forearms, breasts and belly.

Jesse finally stopped struggling, she was panting from exhaustion and shaking from shock. She began to bawl raggedly as the vast, leering face smirked and the looming, towering thumb dipped downwards over her once again. Bethany's amused green eyes guided the thumbnail's edge down dangerously close to the pitiful woman's face. Jesse turned her tiny head away as it was carefully pinned into a sweaty crease. A rumbling coo of savored satisfaction swept over Jesse on a hot gust of breath. The thumbnail finally retracted and it was pressed into the palm beneath her and Jesse was caught by it. She was sent rolling like a rag doll as Bethany grinned.

"I'm not Linda. I know that. I'm not Steve either. But maybe I can make you feel better? Maybe you won't miss them as much afterward? Just relax, Thumbelina."

Bethany touched the tip of her tongue to the center of her thumb's pad and she lowered her thick digit over the tiny screaming girl.

"Shh. It's okay! Honest! I won't pop you! Mmm. Such a pretty little body."

Jesse was trapped multiple times between palm and thumb whenever she struggled. The tiny woman finally learned the trick of it and was obliged to lay spread-eagled, face up, simply forced to endure the pressure and harsh corrugations as the huge thumb lightly explored her beneath it. Bethany's horrible, huge green eyes floated just beyond where her toy sobbed. The tiny body was rigid, lilliputian fists clenched.

Bethany's torturous exploration unintentionally accelerated to something altogether worse. It was as awkward and almost as physically infeasible as determination and possibility could muster to overcome. The dank and thin sheath of saliva acted as a lubricant and perhaps this was what ultimately allowed Jesse to endure such punishment for so long. But after several minutes of stoic endurance the tiny woman began to protest once again, this time with more levity. The poor thing was able to throw her face to the side, but her nipples and clitoris had been worked over to the point of subtle, slowly building potential pain and more pleasurable stimulation. A throaty, satisfied giggle rumbled across the tiny college aged girl. Bethany was savoring the delicious indignity that Jesse was desperate to avoid.

The redheaded colossus slowly pet the tiny, sweaty sliver of woman as she spoke, "Shh. It's okay, Thumbelina! I understand completely, you kinky little thing. I didn't know you had such a weird fascination about… certain... body parts of mine. I wish you would have told me about this years ago. Hell, do you remember that time we got drunk making Christmas cookies together? I wanted to kiss you, but I reminded myself that wasn't what good girls did, especially since it was just a matter of time until you officially became my daughter-in-law. But, if I would have known about your kinky thumb fetish, I would have made you suck on this... Mmm. I might have even slid this pretty thing up in you... but you never asked. We could have had so much fun exploring your little fetish."

The tiny legs were separated again and the thumbnail's edge pressed gently against Jesse. It felt like a cold stone countertop's lip that ran slowly between her tiny breasts, across her belly and then settled against her delicate sex. "But this is so much better, isn't it? Better than Steve's tiny little cock, that's for sure. You can have all of my sexy thumb now, if you can handle it. This is just for you, little girl, just tons of fun. Tons and tons. You just stay underneath there, right where you belong and enjoy it. I'll be gentle, I promise."

Bethany repeatedly pushed the tiny thing as far as she would go and then would pause, pinning her gently into her hand beneath the huge offending digit and allowing her to cool down. In the end, Jesse was struggling, screaming as she was pushed over the edge into orgasm.

Jesse was limp, exhausted, raw, her tiny privates as painful and swollen as her tiny face and breasts. She cried until no more tears could come and she paid for that little technicality painfully. Her tiny eyes were throbbing with salty oils mingled with saliva and she could barely see at all. But there was nothing to see.

Bethany had laid her colossal, sadistic thumb down assertively onto Jesse's tiny form after she had grown bored delicately savaging the tiny crotch and knotting the nearly microscopic pubic hair. The cruel giantess kept her there, even after Jesse had began to recover from being so nightmarishly raped. The tiny thing crawled in a bid to free herself from the wet, ridged fissure. She weakly wormed against the vast, hot bulk of Bethany's thumb pad like some blind newborn animal. For her effort, Jesse received only thunderous giggling as the dominating thumb adjusted to keep her centered beneath it.

Jesse was trapped in a claustrophobic hothouse of flesh, forced for a time to live quite literally underneath Bethany's thumb. She broke down even more, cursing Bethany as she beat her fists against the dense, all-encompassing flesh. Jesse groaned as finally the impenetrable, humid monstrosity responded, slowly rolling her beneath it like a bit of spent chewing gum. There was nothing Jesse could do save to keep her tiny limbs from being pulled away from her form to be isolated and broken as the goddess delicately brutalized her.

The thumb finally lifted off of her and it came to rest on the palm once again next to where she lay. Jesse took grateful breaths in the shadow next to the stocky, sinister digit.

"There we are! Aren't you such a pretty little bug, Thumbelina? Did you like it under my thumb? That's my special place for you from now on. It's not so bad, is it? It's a lot better than the places Steve gets to go, right?"

The massive thumb shifted and Jesse's exhausted body was nudged. She lay lengthwise, helplessly curled against the hulking curvature of the resting thumb's sweaty pad, simply trying to breathe.

"Now I know how Linda did it to you. All it took was a little bit of petting. We're not done with the worshiping part yet, little thing. I want you to show me how much you like my nails, Thumbelina. Can you do that for me? All of that stupid, boring filing. And those pills, those pills are as big as you are, Thumbelina. They're horse pills. Show me, pretty girl. Come on! Move your skinny ass."

Bethany's thumb pressed down threateningly and the flesh of it welled out over Jesse, catching one tiny arm beneath it painfully as she sputtered and clawed. The tiny woman struggled to extract herself and the redheaded monster grinned widely before relaxing her digit. Jesse screeched and pulled herself free. She feebly climbed the plump, moist bulk and prostrated her tiny body belly first against the glassy, rippled polish which coated the immense thumbnail. Jesse was shivering, her tiny body wracked by exhaustion, endorphins and adrenaline. She could feel the enormous face study her as the gusts of hot, spent breath whipped around her body.

"There now, that's not so bad, is it? I just want some affirmation for all my effort. Do you like my thumbnail, Thumbelina? Hmm?"

Jesse shook her head. She pulled herself up and knelt there, head bowed. She began to weep. The thumb rocked slightly backwards and Jesse scrambled with a yelp.

Bethany's massive smirking mouth came close to the tiny girl and whispered, "Linda has a lot of nail polish, a lot. Shelves of it. But, I'm sure you could guess that about Linda, couldn't you? I could go get some, Thumbelina. You could tell me what your favorite is, I bet you have some. Something that gorgeous Linda wore when she played with you. I could get some of that for you. I could paint that beautiful little body right there, spread eagled. But, I'm afraid that would kill you. Too bad nail polish is poisonous. She has some non-toxic polish, but I'm afraid neither one of us probably knows for sure which one that is. That's too bad, I'd love to make you part of my pretty thumbnail. You look really good there, Thumbelina. Do you want me to do that? No? Then lick. I want to feel that tiny tongue some more."

Jesse pressed her tiny face into the fleshy rim of the thumbnail's cuticle and slathered it in tiny strokes from her tongue. She could feel the tiny hollow spaces in her chest and face reverberate as the goddess cooed, the huge green eyes crinkling in mirth as they looked her over approvingly.

It didn't take long for Jesse's tiny tongue to dry out, but the cruel being kept at her game for what seemed to be a long time. Jesse realized that Bethany's monstrous nipples had hardened into firm buds larger than her entire tiny naked body. She repeatedly quelled a horrible possibility out of her mind. Jesse strove in her effort to be consistent, to not worship this vast being with any more passion despite her own energies recovering quickly. Jesse did not want to test that Steve's insane mother had indeed reserved her enormous, foul sex for just her poor, damned son.

Jesse's ploy seemed to work. Her ex-future-mother-in-law eventually grew bored watching the beautiful girl torture herself on the flesh of her thumb.

"Well. Do you want to see Steve now, Thumbelina? Let's go see Steve. See what he's up to."

Jesse slid off the huge nail as the great digit tilted. She was gently rammed by Bethany's thumbnail, the hard surface caught her painfully across her upper body and threw her onto her back. Jesse cried out as the thumbpad slowly entombed her. Her limp, naked form was rolled helplessly across the palm beneath it.

"You had better make room for Steve! I don't want to hurt either of you. But, I definitely wouldn't want to break Linda's favorite little finger puppet."

The redhead grinned as she gathered up Steve from far below where he had been abandoned in the yard. The tiny body plummeted from the thick fingertips and landed next to Jesse as she weakly cried out in shock.

Steve lay in a chaotic pile, looking much like someone who had tumbled to the bottom of a steep hill. Jesse thought that, for just a second, Steve had been looking at her. But his eyes were now dull and staring off into space. Jesse struggled up onto her hands and knees and crawled to where he lay. She took his head in her hands and looked squarely into his face. No response.

"Steve? Steve. Come on, wake up!"

The palm beneath Jesse shifted as the thick fingers formed a canopy overhead. The cave of flesh rocked in time with the enormous footfalls. After only a dozen steps or so, the hand opened. They were at the kitchen table. As Jesse examined Steve for signs of life, Bethany's other thumb and index fingertip lowered and surrounded both of them.

"Let's just put you two on the table, my hand is starting to sweat."

"Bethany! No, don't!"

The enormous fingertips slowly closed as Jesse tried in vain to escape their grasp. Bethany merely giggled at the tiny woman's frantic reaction. Steve's limp body was heaved onto her and then hammered into the miniature beauty's struggling form as they were enclosed in flesh. The removal from the hand was quick. Even so, when the thick, dense fingertips retreated, Jesse herself pitched over to the melamine surface of the tabletop in a tangled pile with the inert Steve. She twitched and moaned in agony, covered with new bruises, the impressed marks of Steve's slack bones. Bethany's vast face was quickly level with Jesse and she studied her quizzically.

"Hey? What's wrong with you? I thought you were going to help me? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The two slack and tangled forms were overtaken by the thick nail tips of a thumb and forefinger. Jesse was almost mauled as the nails nudged and partially closed repeatedly around them, seeking to only capture the limp form that lay tangled on top of her. Bethany hunched lower until her huge green eyes were just beyond the edge of the tabletop. The unmerciful digits finally closed delicately and decisively, squeezing Steve's tiny torso between the jutting, gleaming keratin edges.

Jesse cried out weakly in horror as Steve wheezed. The air was forced from him as Bethany closed her mighty fingertips onto his tiny, bony torso. His tiny head was forcibly folded against his own shoulder by the unwieldy fingernails. His spit fell onto Jesse's face as the stocky fingertips lifted him effortlessly off of her. As Steve was extricated, his tiny limbs dangled and struck her. His eyes followed her as he was hoisted away, a smug look of satisfaction on the tiny trapped face. Steve was discarded onto the tabletop like a tiny piece of trash. He landed slackly, but immediately turned his head to stare at Jesse for a moment before gazing reverently past her into the gigantic green eyes. Shivers raced down Jesse's spine, that was not Steve in there, staring through her.

"Hey. I'm sorry, Jesse. I don't know what I did. Hey, are you okay?"

Jesse was rolled over by a fingernail as she cried out. The pad of the fingertip tried to examine her, lowering down and lightly touching her.

"Stop it, Bethany," Jesse groaned at the immense emerald portals hovering level with her beyond the edge of the table, "please! You're hurting me!"

Bethany's face rolled upwards, dragging a gentle breeze across the panting, painfully curled woman. The vast mouth was set in a frown of mock concern and hot, spent breath blasted across Jesse in frustration, "did I tire you out underneath my thumb? Is that it? Look, you've got to help me with Steve. Come on. What is wrong with you?"

The bulky thumb and index finger dipped and fought the flat surface of the table to take hold of the tiny legs between them. Jesse was wailing and weakly trying to crawl away before she was brutalized by the redhead's gentle yet awkward attempts at taking hold of her. Bethany gently lift Jesse upwards, the top half of her tiny body swung upside down and she was making a terrible sound.

"I know you're exhausted, little girl, but just for once can't you think of anyone else besides yourself?"

Bethany gently pinched the tiny sliver which swung free in her other thumb and index finger. She could feel Jesse quivering in protest and it made her smile. Bethany released Jesse's upper body for a moment before trapping her again, stroking her fingertips softly along the tiny breasts and face. The tiny, weak screams were repeatedly dampened and then as she released her fingers they burst forth at full volume once again. Bethany grinned, it reminded her of trying to learn to awkwardly play the recorder back in grade school.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear. Shhh. Just calm down. You're going to be okay."

Bethany released the tiny morsel from between her fingertips again and watched as Jesse swung there from her waist. She gently laid the tiny girl down onto the table and lowered her face, watching her. The poor little thing was hugging herself, coughing, and she curled into an agonized ball.

Bethany couldn't help it. She reached out and slowly pinched around her, enclosing the tiny, heaving lump in her fingertips without compressing her, without picking her up. She could feel Jesse sobbing.

"Why don't you just rest here for a little bit?" 

Jesse whimpered and unfolded, worming up into the crevice in an unsteady stand between the fingers. She began pushing weakly against them and then tried to slip out of them. Bethany arrested her with a light squeeze, smiling.

"You're okay, Jesse. Shhh. Don't struggle. Why don't you go to sleep for a little bit?"

Jesse disappeared between the soft pillars of flesh as the titaness captured her completely. Bethany wanted to feel her struggle for breath, feel her weaken and then become a compliant little doll. But Jesse didn't deserve that. She lightly rolled the tiny thing once between her thumb and finger, enjoying the feeling of the tiny body. With a sad, regretful look Bethany gently released the tiny girl.

"Take your time, Jesse. I'll try and feed Steve again."

Chapter 9: The Beast by V11

"Come on, Steve! You've got to eat!"

The droplet of cold oatmeal was adhered in the center of Bethany's fingertip. She was tired of holding her finger still, tired of waiting for movement which didn't appear. Bethany frowned and engulfed the tiny face again with her digit, only succeeding in smashing him into the tabletop and forcing the congealing oatmeal to flatten and cling against the tiny face. Bethany sighed sadly as she uncovered him and retrieved the cotton bud again to clean him off. She pinned him beneath a finger as she dabbed at the tiny head.

"You've got to eat, honey. You're taking this too far! Tiny dollies need to eat, especially you! You are way too skinny as it is and you need to keep up your strength."

Bethany finished cleaning him as well as she could and released him from beneath her finger. She stared at him laying there and grew slightly perturbed.

"Hey! Don't just lay there!"

The fingernail nudged him and Bethany pushed him a little ways with it.

"Get up! What's wrong with you? You need to eat your breakfast!"

Bethany warily eyed the straight pin laying next to him. She had found in Linda's bathroom drawers. She couldn't bring herself to use that, she just couldn't. Steve was just too tiny for such a thing, Bethany could not see the details of his miniature form well enough. Even the toothpicks that she had desperately looked for in Linda's kitchen were a stupid idea. Jesse had sat up minutes ago but Bethany thought it best to ignore her for a little bit. Let the tiny thing recuperate from whatever had happened. Jesse finally made it up onto shaky legs and limped weakly towards where Steve lay.

"Guess who's here, Steve? Jesse is here! She wants you to eat! Come on, Steve, don't you want to eat breakfast with Jesse?" Bethany's green eyes swiveled to watch Jesse totter slowly across the table, "you're going to have to help me. Help me wake him up. Is he unconscious? Sleeping? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"You broke him, Bethany! You broke your little dolly, didn't you, you gigantic psycho? You broke Steve. You broke Steve! You broke my poor…"

Bethany's finger rolled Steve over onto his back. She spread his tiny legs with a fingernail and gingerly touched his crotch.

"He still has his little boner. That's got to be good, right? He always has it. So, he's okay, right?"

Jesse watched in wide-eyed horror as the fingernail slapped the tiny penis back and forth like a punching bag. Her hands instinctively came up to her mouth and she wanted to throw up. She watched for a moment longer as this skyscraper sized mother fondled her helpless son's cock. Jesse forced herself to walk forward on stiff, uncooperative legs. She couldn't get away from Bethany. She had to help her. That was the only way to escape the brutal woman's grasp: make Bethany happy, make her thankful.

"So, he's just pretending. Just being a good little dolly for his mommy. Like I asked, right? He knows I'm here because he has a teeny-tiny stiffy. So, maybe he's just not hungry?"

Bethany smoothed her hair back out of her eyes as she looked to Jesse to confirm the logic in anything she had just said. The colossus respectfully stopped batting around her miniaturized son's tiny chafed prick as Jesse came close.

"Here, Jesse, try and feed him," the vast hand which rested on the table suddenly took to the air with a gust of wind. Jesse tried to skirt around the humid silhouette on the cool surface where the huge fingers had just been. She knelt next to Steve as Bethany dabbed a finger into the heli-pad sized bowl of cold oatmeal.

"Here," the fingertip touched down and slid until Jesse could scoop oatmeal from the tip of the fingernail, "can you make him swallow? How do you make a person swallow? Is it like giving pills to pets? I don't even know how to do that, Jesse."

Jesse cradled Steve's head into her lap and brushed his hair out of her eyes. He stared off at an angle into the sky, completely detached from what was happening around him once again.

"Come on, Steve. You're scaring your mother. Come on, you can do this, you like oatmeal! You've always liked oatmeal!"

Jesse parted his lips and pried apart the loose jaws. She laid the oatmeal down on his tongue and scraped it from her fingers. Jesse gently held his mouth closed.

"Now just swallow it, come on! I know you're in there. I know you can do this."

The fingertip pressed into the tabletop impatiently, bulging outwards even more. Jesse felt the air churn overhead and the tiny couple were cloaked in the shadowy silhouette of the massive head as Bethany leaned in eagerly.

"Did he swallow? Was he awake? Did he say anything? Is he angry with me? Please-"

"Calm down!" Jesse screamed upwards into the vast face.

"He swallowed? Is that what you said?"

Jesse vigorously shook her head no. Gales of hot air blasted downwards as Bethany huffed in frustration. The spare hand retracted and grabbed onto the edge of the table, the tiny people lurched as the titaness steadied herself. Jesse watched as Bethany's enormous face lowered. She grew nervous as she held on to Steve. The massively thick red curls collided with the shiny melamine, swishing and scraping as they piled and slithered and bounced. Jesse held Steve tightly to her, afraid that they might be overtaken by the dark red hair and helplessly tossed across the table. Bethany's chin was now directly above the table behind her. Jesse could feel the heat spilling off the massive tracts of pale, baby soft and grease-shined skin. The green eyes seemed to note her sudden and instinctive fear.

"You're okay, Jesse," the massive mouth whispered, "I just want to see. I can never see. All of you are so tiny. It's very frustrating. Here, why don't you try again?" The waiting index finger peeled away with a wet squelch from the table and the edge of the fingernail dabbed oatmeal directly into Jesse's hip, "I'm sorry!"

Jesse cleaned her side and once again stuffed Steve's mouth. He was staring past her, directly into Bethany's face.

"Come on, Steve! Just do this! She's going to punish me if you don't do this! Please!"

"Nothing?” Bethany whispered. Jesse turned and watched the frightening lips flex and twist as the titaness hissed out the words, “Well, try and make him swallow! Come on Jesse, you can do this!"

Jesse stroked her hand down Steve's throat, over his protruding Adam's apple. She spent a few minutes massaging his throat and then worked her thumbs up underneath of his jaw, trying to cajole the musculature hidden there. The hot breath ejecting from Bethany's nostrils felt like a blast furnace across Jesse's naked body. Her hair was blown into her eyes as she pleaded and massaged Steve's throat.

With one final blast of hot breath which threatened to lift the tiny couple up off the tabletop, Bethany moved. The air churned around Jesse as the redheaded mountain raised her head up away from the tabletop. Jesse heard the colossus sigh and the spare hand came down with a tremor to rest on the table close to them.

"We've just got to wake him up. We've got to."

Jesse glanced up into the sky for a moment at Bethany's distant and thoughtful face. She turned back and continued to ply Steve with gentle coaxing.

"Oh, come on, Steve! You wretched piece of shit! Come on! Just swallow for me, please baby. Please, please, please!"

The thumb raised and the hand transformed into a loose fist. The massive, rotund canopy of flesh lowered over the tiny couple. Bethany touched Jesse's backside with the bulging, overstuffed tip of her thumb.

"I can feel you shaking! It's okay, Jesse! I'm sorry. I guess you're a little bit... respectful of my great big thumb, aren't you? I guess I don't blame you. But you got a thing for my pretty thumbs, remember? This is just a lover's touch, that's all."

The pad of flesh pressed gently into Jesse, bowing her over Steve. They were both eclipsed and hidden under Steve's mother's mammoth thumb. Bethany pet Jesse very, very gently with it, allowing her to continue to kneel with Steve gathered up in her lap. Jesse was sobbing, Steve held tightly to her as Bethany casually dominated them both with such a simple gesture.

"We have to do whatever we can to wake him up, Jesse. So… So, I want you to fuck him. Will you do that for me, hmm? Please? I don't care how. We've got to use the only tool we have available to us. We need to use that tiny thing between his legs to reach him. You know how... You know what he likes! You were with him… Well, you've been with him since high school."

With one final caress the huge thumb landed with a tremor right next to Jesse. She didn't even come up to the top of it as she sat, kneeling with Steve held protectively. The enormous digit pressed down, bulging outwards as it compressed illustratively. The dense flesh welled outwards as thick, protesting creaks rumbled through the tabletop. Steve's tiny neck curled and his face was pressed into Jesse's breast as Bethany's low wall of overheated thumb flesh pressed against Jesse's naked side. Jesse tightened her grip on Steve as she began to tremble.

"Please, Jesse. Fix my toy for me. But, if you don't want to, I understand. We could take a break, it's not right that you're still frightened of me. Maybe we could work on it? How about that? It's okay, really. I wouldn't mind, you know, I really like having you under my thumb. It's only natural, I guess. I was going to be your mother-in-law anyways, right? It's almost as good as having Steve in my shoe with me. Thumbelina? How about it? How about some more worship for a little bit? It will relax you. Just a little bit, until you want to fuck Steve, honey."

Jesse pivoted on her knees away from the show of force and carefully touched the back of Steve's head to the table as she let go of him. She grabbed hold of his sticky cock and began to softly stroke it. Bethany sighed in relief and retracted her hand back to the edge of the table where the other one rested.

"Thank you, Jesse. I'm sorry about that. I don't want to threaten you, but I'm desperate. He hasn't eaten since I've been here. That's sort of my fault. I forgot to feed him that first day. He was so much fun that I got a little carried away."

Bethany watched as Jesse played Steve's body like a musical instrument. At first, it seemed that Bethany wanted to make suggestions. But, she held back and kept silent. What did she know? All she could do is not crush his bones or flick his tiny penis off of his body. Jesse knew this boy, knew what got him going, even if he was permanently trapped in Lala land.

Jesse noticed a change come over Steve's face as she worked his bruised cock. At first he was blinking too much, as if some lever had been tripped in the back of his mind and something was waking. Then, his eyes began fervently searching for details around him as if he had gone blind. His mouth moved, his face was growing more and more frustrated as he peered into what must have been some obscuring cloud between himself and she. Minutes later and Jesse could tell that Steve was perceiving her, or at least knew that someone occupied the space she dwelt in.

"That's it! Come on, Steve! It's me! It's Jesse!"

His eyebrows arched upwards and there was a sudden inhalation, a drowned man coming back to life. He looked around confused and as Jesse opened her mouth to speak the next change in him nearly drove the breath from her throat. As he focused on her and his eyes began to light up with perhaps recognition a swoon overtook him. The bland, almost cross eyed look of idiocy killed Steve's consciousness in mid stride. Jesse was confronted by a stranger who had jumped in front of the reaching, seeking Steve.

The bland, unfocused stranger narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth in an ugly, uncharacteristically Steve-like way.

"You ugly little whore!" He spat, and Jesse was kicked off of him.

Jesse slid to a stop, retching, the wind driven from her. In the sky overhead Bethany drew closer.

"Jesse? What happened? Steve?"

The skinny and mangy creature sprang to it's feet. Bethany gasped in delight, "you did it Jesse! You really did it!"

With a feral snarl the manic hazel eyes focused on Jesse. He bounded swiftly to the straight pin and with superhuman strength for one so tiny it was snatched up. The soccer ball sized pink plastic end was tucked underneath one arm and he rushed at Jesse with it, guiding the point down into her soft, betrayed and confused face.

Jesse rolled away with a yelp as the point of the pin stuck into the faintly dimpled melamine of the tabletop. The tiny woman struggled to get to her feet, but she was still fighting to draw in her first breath since the tiny maniac had sucker punched her. Jesse was left floundering on her side, mouthing silent words pleadingly into the colossal face hovering in the distance.

The girder-like pin was swung around until it faced Jesse again and the thing inhabiting Steve sprinted at her again.

"Oh no you don't!" thundered across the sky. A gigantic hand lowered onto Jesse in a gentle, caging cupped posture as the screaming savage covered the last few feet to his victim.

The straight pin sunk deeply into Bethany's thumb. A growl of pain split the air overhead but Bethany's hand stayed over Jesse, not even flinching. The murderous doll was caught across his side by a monstrous finger in a gentle flick of the other hand.

Bethany's hand lifted free of Jesse and the redheaded titaness pulled free the pin from her thumb with a gasp of pain.

"Are you all right, Jesse? He didn't hurt you, did he? Ouch! God, that hurts!"

A droplet of dark blood grew from the thumb until it was far larger than Jesse's head. Bethany stuck the digit into her mouth protectively. Before she could do anything, Jesse was bodily sealed between two fingertips. The acceleration upwards was almost too much to bear. She was tucked between Bethany's giant breasts.

Bethany mumbled around her thumb, "sorry, honey, but you'll be safe here."

Jesse could still see, peering out from the soft trench of endless skin. She watched Bethany pluck up Steve. He was swept upwards, past the rounded hills where Jesse fought to breathe. Steve was invisible to her, Bethany addressed her pinched fingertips that she held in front of her face.

"You could have killed her! What is wrong with you, Steve? That's Jesse! Go ahead and struggle, mama has you right where she wants you. You're going to listen to me, you tiny little shit!"

The thick thumb and index finger slowly rolled past each other as Bethany tortured her son like a booger fished out of a nostril. A tiny smattering of liquid fell in a short stream for a moment from the fingers.

"Jesse was just trying to feed you! But, now that you're awake, I think I'll feed you myself, bug. You are going to eat your breakfast and then, after I get you cleaned up, we are going to go outside for that cigarette I promised you last night."

Bethany smacked her lips and she removed her injured thumb from her mouth. She brought it up to the tiny thing she held in her fingers. Steve was screaming.

"Jesse! Please help me! Oh God, please Jesse! I'm so sorry! Mother! Oh God! Please stop! Please, don't do this! It wasn't me!"

The glistening patch that was quickly forming into a droplet of blood was pressed in between the pinching fingertips and the scream was cut off.

"Suck on it! You suck on it and make it better!"

Jesse bowed her head and wedged it in between the vast, buoyant crevice surrounding her, using Bethany's own skin to muffle the horrible sounds. Jesse shut her eyes, she just wanted Linda to come home.

Chapter 10: Gentleness by V11

Jesse trembled as the thick fingers freed her from between the house-size breasts. Bethany was well and truly angry and even though her wrath was not directed at the pitiful, naked young woman she had stowed in the stifling crevice, Jesse was still frightened.

Jesse was deposited in the stout, milky white palm of the hand which had been injured. The massive thumb tip was wrapped with an adhesive bandage, the blood from the pinprick was visible as a dark, angry looking spot through the translucent tan sheath. Far below Jesse, in the middle of the kitchen table on a bit of paper towel lay Steve. He was motionless, bloody smudges surrounded the skinny little body. Bethany looked to the paper towel and then smiled sadly down at her.

"There is my little Thumbelina! I'm so sorry, Jesse, I don't know what got into him. He's been so good for me. What could make him freak out like that?"

"Are you fucking kidding-"

Jesse was slammed backwards into the salty flesh as she was brought closer to Bethany's face. Simultaneously, the other hand floated up past the seamed swells of the miniature woman's sweat glistened platform. The middle finger extended and came at her gracefully.

"Did he hurt you? It looked like he did. Let me see."

Bethany's thick fingertip, as imposing as a mobile trunk of an old-growth tree lowered and delicately touched Jesse. The resulting actions were more like slow collisions, the tiny body was forced to comply completely to the supposedly subtle movements backed up by so much mass. At first the examination was careful and done from genuine concern. There were no marks, at least none large enough for Bethany to detect. The examination shifted seamlessly to mildly amusing entertainment, or perhaps, went on entirely too long. The gargantuan redhead was once again fascinated in playfully subjugating such a tiny body. Jesse struggled tiredly to get away, but Bethany was relentless even if gentle. There was no place to go, no place to hide on the enormous cupped palm. The tiny, half-choked screams seemed to slightly cheer the vast face.

Bethany smiled sadly, "You know, I do care about you, even though you hate me sometimes," the titaness sighed and looked serious, "especially now, I guess. But, you don't ever have to be frightened of me, not really. Sometimes I just like to play with you, that's all. That's not so bad, is it? I won't ever hurt you, see?"

The end of the middle digit softly pressed Jesse into the flesh beneath her, violently interrupting her breathing. For a split second she was compressed, sealed completely in horrific giant skin. It made her guts hurt. The fingertip lifted and drew back, taking the miniature beauty with it. Jesse was adhered securely to the constantly replenishing oils and self-generated humidity which clad each digit, be they Bethany's fingers or her mammoth toes. Jesse hung upside down for a moment, eyes tightly clenched shut and screaming mutely into the perverse real estate that had cemented itself to her face. The colossus smiled mildly and inverted her hand palm up.

"Oops! Well, I didn't mean to go and do that! I'm sorry, Jesse. You know, I wonder sometimes would you still be so sticky if you guys had tiny clothes? I know I would get tired of running around in my birthday suit all of the time."

Bethany watched the little thing peel free her red face.

"I'm sort of glad, you know, I'm glad that you don't have clothes. I would be sad if you wore clothes, Jesse. I'm afraid I'd have to take them away from you. You're just so beautiful. I like looking at you… like this. I can't help but to want to touch you, Jesse. But, I won't ever hurt you. I don't have a body like yours anymore, honey. But I do have your sexy little body, don't I? Right on the tip of my finger."

Bethany grinned at the tiny naked woman stuck to her finger. Her eyes grew slightly mischievous and her thick, unstoppable thumb unfolded, the broad pad of it came close to the tiny form. Jesse struggled but it was useless. Bethany's green eyes watched as the tiny face was caught into the swirled ridges of her delicately maneuvering thumb.

"I'm just so glad he didn't hurt my tiny Thumbelina! I like your tiny licks. Come on, Jesse, do it for me! Just a couple of times! I can watch you do it! This is perfect! Please?"

The tiny face tried to pull away and Bethany didn't even feel the careful movement as she willed herself to adjust, trapping Jesse's face once again. The tiny thing put up quite a struggle, wriggling like a trapped, desperate worm.

"All I want you to do is to give me some affection, Thumbelina."

The tacky wall of thumbprint closed against Jesse's sticky vertical perch. Her tiny head became wedged in the shadowy crack created by the bulging flesh. Jesse was squealing as her tiny cheeks was pressed painfully into the oily corrugations. She had no choice but to stare outwards from the crevice and witness Bethany's happy smile.

"Don't you want to give your lover a kiss? This thumb is a lot bigger than you, isn't she, Thumbelina? Don't you want to thank her for being so tender to you? So gentle with you? Come on, what do you have to lose?"

Bethany eased her thumb slightly and she swore that she could feel the infinitesimal tongue. With another micro-movement backwards Bethany could watch her do it. The colossus smiled peacefully and spoke as her would-have-been-daughter-in-law tickled the tactile grooves with tiny flashes of a pink undulation.

"That's a good girl! See? I won't ever hurt you, Jesse, I love you! You make me very happy! He would have killed you with that needle, Jesse. It would've been like a spear. I don't know what… I just don't know what… Well, he wanted this. Wanted me to… "

Bethany contemplated the young woman plastered to her fingertip for a moment as she grazed lightly over the tiny shaking thing with the pad of her thumb. Bethany sighed, "well, I've got to get him cleaned up. Let me put you back in your little house"

Bethany stood, simply deciding to leave Jesse where she was. Everything was easier this way, for both of them. After only a few steps, Jesse had no choice but to press her face into the ridges of the fingerprint. Otherwise the howling wind would blast her while Bethany thundered through the house. At a normal walk, Bethany and Linda moved at over two hundred miles an hour. Without protection of some sort, tears were torn out of Jesse's eyes and they would slide horizontally backwards into her hair and ears.

Jesse hovered over the great, dam-like precipice of Bethany's lower body as the giantess casually removed the roof of her home with one hand. Jesse had hoped that Bethany would just put her down somewhere on the tiny property outside. That was just too much to hope for.

"Oh, Jesse! I still can't get over it!"

The thick, well-kept digits of the other hand dropped into the tiny home. There was a crash of fake crockery and the kitchen table rocketed upwards until it was level with her. Bethany's index finger and thumb had a few tiny knives and forks stuck to them like wood grain textured chocolate sprinkles. They flipped the little table casually between them like a large coin, "it's all just so adorable! Don't you just love it? Linda is so good to all of you. I'm kind of jealous!"

Bethany managed to set the table upright, but knocked over all of the chairs that were meant to surround it. She corrected two of them before giving up with a regretful rubbing together of her digits. Jesse was raised up in front of the green eyes, still adhered to the finger.

"He never was… You know, he never really was a good son. He was good to you, I think. Good when you were around. You made him better, Jesse. But… Well… He wasn't going to amount to much, ultimately. You know that. I'm so sorry he tried to hurt you. I promise you he'll never pull that stunt again. I'm going to… work with him. Teach him some things, like respect. He has never had any respect for anyone other than himself."

"Please, just leave him alone, Bethany!You leave him alone! Give him back to me! Just give him back to me! He needs help, Bethany! Someone needs to look aft-"

Bethany watched the tiny tirade for a moment and then hesitantly brought her fingertip to her lips, "Shh. I understand! I know you're angry at him. I know. It's okay."

"I don't want to go in your mouth! I don't want to go in your mouth! Please, Bethany! Just stop it! Please, just put me… Put me in my house. I just want to…"

"You're going to be just fine now, aren't you? You poor little thing, I'll always protect you from him. Why don't you let me give you a little kiss? That's all I want, honey. I just want to be friends."

The thick, plush lips smiled for a moment as the screams reached Bethany's ears before puckering up. Jesse was buried into the massive lips. The soft flesh molded around her as she struggled and her tiny, flailing head became trapped, sliding and sinking into the billowing, undulating pleats of the upper lip. Her head was pushed outwards as the flesh of the lips hardened and slid. The very tip of the monstrous tongue breached the disgustingly soft gateway. Jesse's panicked scream turned into a groan as she was crushed against the fingertip by the slimy pink muscle. It pressed downwards along her shoulders and torso to finally explore between her legs, painfully forcing her buttocks apart as it probed and tasted.

What to Bethany's scale was just careful, feathery movements of the tip of her tongue quite cognizant to not dislodge the tiny woman was to Jesse the terrible crush of a steamy, wet monster. Hot, syrupy saliva streamed onto her with enough force that it invaded and forcibly filled even that vulnerable, hidden place between her legs. She saw stars and heard loud popping noises in her ears as her lungs were denied. Jesse was a moment away from passing out as her tiny, helpless form was smashed into the briny wall of Bethany's finger.

The next thing Jesse knew she was floating free again in front of the grinning mouth. The tiny being and the large surface of the fingertip's pad were now coated in an inches-thick covering of saliva. The gigantic fingertips raised until she was floating in front of the green eyes. Jesse was coughing, her head turned to the side as she hung vertically from this little piece of Steve's mother. Bethany spoke at her normal tone, deafening her.

"Mmm. Thank you, little thing, that was wonderful! Well, let's put you in your tiny house, Thumbelina, before you get into any more mischief with me. Don't you worry about Steve. I'll take care of him."

The massive thumb slammed shut against Jesse's tiny legs. She was inverted head-first downwards as Bethany rotated her hand and then she found herself hurtling through the air. The enormous digits paused over several of the tiny rooms before indecisively moving on. Jesse was shrieking, a mass of Bethany's saliva had gathered on her tiny breasts. The steamy, froth-skinned mass slowly slid over her neck, almost choking her with it's density. Bethany's spit was going to suffocate her.

"Here, I'll just put you in your little dolly bed."

The thumb left, leaving Jesse adhered to Bethany by only her nightmarish saliva. She crashed into something which hurt her, then she was hoarsely wailing as her little body was subject to immense pressure from behind. Jesse was scraped free of the huge fingertip against the headboard of her bed. Bethany's face filled the entirety of the space where the roof belonged.

"There we go, all nice and snug, my little bug. Oh, look at the mess I've made."

Bethany's huge fingers flew upwards, creating a wind which tugged at the bedspread. The giant hand adjusted, blotting out the light as the massive digits lowered into the little fake kitchen. The whole house rocked under the redhead's casual movements. As Jesse fought to breathe she caught glimpses of the frighteningly out of place fingertips rooting around, accompanied with the clatter of fake cookie cutters, tiny silverware and plastic plates.

"Linda is so nice to you, isn't she, Thumbelina? Look at all these pretty little things I've made a mess of. I'll try to pile them on the kitchen table for you, sweetie. There! That's better, isn't it?"

The huge thumb and index fingers rubbed against each other, dislodging tiny things that had glued themselves to the massive steamy pads. Jesse watched as Bethany lightly kissed the tip of her thumb. The gargantuan digit lowered down over her, filling the bedroom as she shut tight her eyes. Jesse could feel the touch of the thumbnail's edge as it pressed gently across her entire back.

"Thank you for helping me with my toy, Jesse. You just rest up for now my little lover."

Bethany awkwardly replaced the roof. The walls of the tiny home protested like the timbers of a ship in a storm. Cabinet doors flew open and all manner of tiny replica kitchen wares sprang out on the floor as the roof was finally seated correctly.

The deep, feminine voice split the air like thunder and was only barely muted by the wooden structure, "now let's just shut your tiny door." One of the huge fingers lowered outside and intruded onto the porch. It hovered there for only a moment before it touched the little rectangle and chased it into it's frame. Through the front windows an enormous thumb waved childishly. Then it and the distant green eyes disappeared as the deep tremors of the enormous churning feet jolted everything before fading away.

Jesse was finally alone, the rapidly cooling saliva anchoring her completely against the headboard. Her face was pressed against the polished wood and her breath steamed it's surface. She growled as she tried to peel one arm away from the relatively tall wooden structure. Jesse was just too weak compared to even the saliva from Bethany's mouth.

"No! No, goddamn it... I just want to... I just..."

Jesse was panting, blinking back tears of pain as gravity slowly dragged her downwards through her glistening, disgusting cocoon. Soon, she told herself, soon she would be on the bedspread and could work herself free. Jesse started to weep as Bethany's invasive saliva that had forced its way within her pushed aside her delicate, miniaturized feminine anatomy with its thick, congealed weight. Her cries turned into defeated, defiled whimpers.

Chapter 11: She comes by V11

Whatever it was: the now-dominant personality of a fractured psyche? Perhaps a transient, bodiless spirit come to roost in the unfortunate and broken husk of a young man? Perhaps it was nothing more than Steve's pretend-persona, his newest sick fantasy to lose himself within as a bizarre coping mechanism?

Whatever it was: it was profoundly satisfied.

It lay on the rough and dimpled enormity of paper towel, lazing comfortably like some North European tourist on a well-earned holiday in the tropics. The tiny thing was nearly motionless except for it's eyes which chased after gigantic motes of dust drifting through the shafts of light overhead, and it's mouth. Its mouth was working over and genuinely savoring the chunk of rubbery, coagulated blood that it refused to swallow just yet.

This was Her blood. It's owner's blood. There was power here, so much power. She had rewarded it for fighting off and overtaking Steve, for putting the pitiful little whore in her place. Beautiful, dark blood from her enormous, punishing and dominating thumb, blood that she had allowed it to decant itself. She had gently suckled it, raising it up and berating the heinous, screaming Steve before gifting it with a drop of blood the size of an astronaut's helmet. Like some living, hot headgear it had flowed around it's tiny head as it beat the hopeless, defeated Steve down into oblivion.

It had drank directly from the ragged, fibrous wound, the wellspring on the gigantic thumb. But Steve, he wouldn't go without a fight, Steve required breath and took control long enough to struggle free of the flowing, thick blood for a gasp of air.

Dolls didn't need air. It fought Steve off and shivered in ecstasy as it probed the deep wound with it's tiny, quick tongue. In an orgasmic rapture it plugged the wound for a moment with it's tiny face. It had wanted to insert it's entire tiny head but could not wrench itself free from her enormous fingers.

She had left it here on the table so it could consume it's ruby and gelatinous treasure. It sincerely hoped that she had gone off to torture and rape and squish that little bitch, hopefully with her stocky, marvelously bleeding thumb.

Might it's goddess allow it to taste the gore, the scant and greasy remnants of the little bitch? It smiled as it sucked on it's sanguine pacifier, imagining cleaning the gruesome remnants of the simpering Thumbelina from the deep, dense ridges of the little whore's alarmingly plump and possessive namesake.

There was an enormous, epic cacophony, something incalculably huge had started moving in the distance. It's little tongue froze in the groove it had made in the rubbery blood chunk and it's ears quivered imperceptibly at the receipt of the vast and echoing sound waves glancing off of expensive wallpaper and wood.

It lolled it's stained and bruised head to one side as it took in the percussive thunderclaps. They were the deep heralding explosions of massive high heels which created a rhythm like some supernaturally awful freight train. She was coming this way, coming to reward it again, to pin it beneath just a tiny piece of her. Coming to make for it a place where it might hide like some pallid and unhealthy lizard beneath a desert-hot boulder. A place of sanctuary beneath her murderous, stationary thumb where it might feast on the emulsified guts and skin of Thumbelina in comfort and security.

There she was. From this distance she almost looked like someone pitiful, like some sad, ineffectual human being. It knew that she most definitely was not such a finite creature. With an evil glee it hungrily tried to penetrate the distance with it's tiny eyes, searching for those colossal and pale hands. They were swinging so much it couldn't see much of the mammoth thumbs at all, nor any delicious, dark treats smeared across either one.

There was something about her, about how she looked or perhaps how her face was set that made him began to tremble. Then, he realized what was coming for him.

With a choked and ragged shriek the blood clot was spit out and Steve was quivering, coughing. Where was he? There was his mother. Then he remembered something. She was angry with him. His mother was coming for him, that much he knew, coming to punish him. Steve had been a bad little boy.

Steve's chest hurt suddenly, his mind had caught on those specific words. Why those two words? Why?

Little boy.

"Oh God! Oh God, no!"

His mother Bethany was transformed as she approached, as he witnessed her wreathed in the thunder from her footsteps. She distorted as she came closer, expanding outwards and upwards, filling up and then overwhelming Steve's tiny field of view. She shifted in the blink of an eye, turning into a gargantuan, unstoppable being. She continued to erupt and expand. Bethany turned into mind-crippling enormity as she thundered ever closer, far surpassing what was sane even for such a fantastical, twilight zone styled travesty. She was a tremendous and very real woman whose sheer size rivaled the billowing, silent towers of moody, gleaming thunderheads. This was Steve's mother, a being so frightening that in comparison to her he was absolutely nothing, absolutely powerless. A being whose eyes were affixed sternly on him from the distant, blank sky as the tops of her churning thighs and hips overwhelmed everything beyond the gleaming tabletop's boundary.

Him. The bad little boy. The inconsequential bug. Her-

As the hand's shadow covered the tiny body it shrieked once and went still. Had Steve fainted? Fainted out of shock? No, he he simply relinquished control out of sheer terror. A smug, satisfied grin filled the tiny face.

-doll.

Chapter 12: So Dreamy by V11

Bethany was hunched over her open palm which held the grimy, unmoving and blood-soiled body of her postage stamp length son. He was nudged again without reaction.

"I told you to get up! What's wrong with you? Hmm?"

Bethany awkwardly seated the jeweler's loupe, couching the rim of it into the creases of soft, resilient flesh which surrounded her eye. She brought the tiny being closer to her face and studied him. It took a minute or two to gather enough fleeting glimpses amidst the shaking view offered from her own efforts to remain stock still.

The tiny thing was smiling ghoulishly, it's mouth rimmed in Bethany's own blood.

"Steve? Are you okay? You don't look right, honey."

Bethany's pinky finger of her free hand unfolded and lowered over him. She caught sight of her own monstrous digit in true comparison to him through the spyglass and she smiled.

"Are you just being a good little dolly for mommy? Is that what you're doing? But, I want you to sit up now."

The edge of Bethany's long fingernail touched the tiny head, guided by the black eyepiece hovering above him like a microscope's objective lens. The diminutive skull on the tiny neck gave way and rolled to the side.

"Steven! Sit up!"

"Steven! Sit up!"

His father was staring at him expectantly, one cheek reserving mashed potatoes as he took in a forkful of bacon studded green beans in another bite. The elder Wilson male chewed thoughtfully, eyeing the young man seated across from him at the old dining room table.

"Well, you had better sit up then, hadn't you?"

Steve's father was quiet for a moment as he finished off the Salisbury steak. The attic fan was roaring, pulling in cool air through the opened windows of the old house.

"Fifteen years old. Do you know what I was doing when I was fifteen? Huh? Well, I'll tell you. I was working in a heavy equipment shop. Snowplows, tractors, fixing all sorts of things. No one was soft on me! Fifteen years old. Steve, Jesus Christ," the elder Wilson glared threateningly and clenched his teeth, "Do what she says- sit up straight!"

Mr. Wilson spoke slowly as he cleaned the rest of his plate of food, seeking to contain his temper and frustration.

"You did this to yourself. So you mind her, Steven! Mind your babysitter. Fifteen… Fifteen years-" his teeth clenched again and he gently lowered his silverware to the plate, "I've got to go. I'm already running late. Tell your mom I'll call when I get to Ohio after I drop off this load."

He walked to the door and slid on his down vest and ball cap.

"You mind her, Steven, and you stay out of trouble."

His father opened the front door and looked over his shoulder at his son.

"Remember, I love you, son."

The gigantic thumb and index fingertip filled the tiny doorway. Steve's father's face grew ashen as the long lavender painted nails gently pinched him from knee to shoulder. The older man groaned as the air was forced out of his tall frame. He slid backwards out of the doorway, his heavy workboots scuffing noisily against the old hardwood floor.

Steve upended his chair as he jumped up from the dinner table. He ran to the window just in time to watch the skyscraper sized Linda kneel down next to the tiny eighteen wheeler on the floor. She had pigtails in her hair and wore a kneelength dress, something too young for her, just like the pigtails. A dress out of some black-and-white television show from the 1950s. It made her look more like some Russian model ready for a photo shoot for the packaging of this particular Halloween costume. She looked like a cosplayer, or perhaps something tailored for a very Japanese sexual aesthetic. The pigtails reminded Steve of Glumdalclitch, the little girl who finds Gulliver on the beach in that movie.

Outside of the window was the same house which Steve sat within, only gargantuan, a copy Linda's size. It was Steve's old house, from before the move, before their divorce. Steve realized that his house, the tiny house, sat in the spot where the stereo system should have been. As Steve watched, his tiny father was tucked into the driver's door of the miniature semi truck. A moment later hot smoke vented from the stacks behind the cab and the tiny thing was underway. The misdressed Linda waved cheerfully as the little thing rolled up to speed before changing gears. It lumbered out of the shadow of her Mary Jane clad foot.

Linda turned and her vivid blue eyes found Steve in the tiny window. A huge smile lit up her already cheerful face. She turned towards him and began to walk.

"No! No, no, no!"

The pictures shook on the walls in time with her thunderous footsteps. The good china inside of his mother's cherished dark wood cabinet tumbled from their places. As Steve ran back through his childhood home the ceiling was cracking, the walls cast off their dust in sheets which disintegrated into throat-tickling plumes.

Steve made it to his own bedroom and idiotically threw shut the door. He spun, looking over all of the childhood clutter, seeking somewhere to stay hidden. The explosive footsteps had stopped. There was something on the roof, a pattering of sounds which suddenly coalesced into something solid scraping across the flinty, stone-impregnated asphalt shingles.

"Your mother said that I needed to give you a bath after dinner, Steven."

There was a terrible crash in the living room. Steve gasped as he heard sounds of wood splintering, the joins of walls groaning in protest. Then Steve heard the distinct sound of everything on the dinner table being moved all at once, like a failed tablecloth removal trick. As the dinnerware broke against the walls Steve wormed his way underneath the bed, violently displacing Scrabble, Monopoly and nudie magazines.

"Where is that little doll? Where is that warm, soft little trembling body? I can't feel it. Are you hiding from me, Steven? For shame! Are you a bad little boy? I think so."

There was a deafening giggle directly overhead. As the outburst faded, it lingered in a strange way, becoming the buzzing of the vibrating windows in their frames and the protesting, whining chime of the grandfather clock's little brass bell forced to sing by the thick, unstoppable soundwaves. Steve's heart hammered in his chest as he strove not to cough on all of the dust in the air beneath the bed.

Steve's entire world bucked violently as the immense fingers forced their way through the foundations beneath the house. A second later everything tilted as Steve's stomach fluttered. The tiny young man was screaming as he and the bed slid across the carpet to collide with the far wall. Linda had picked up the house.

Steve groaned, he was trapped in a pile of clothing and furniture, sports equipment and shoes. The entire pile danced in time with the tremendous footsteps, bruising him in new places with each distant explosion of nineteen thousand tons of weight coming to temporary rest. As Steve watched through the ever shifting debris covering him the drywall of the walls and ceiling fissured and gave way. In a panic he undulated downwards into the pile, dragging a dresser drawer directly over his head as he fought to drag heaps of clutter between himself and the failing room.

Steve felt a giddy sensation of bodily plummeting and then there was a terrific crash as the house collided with something larger than itself. Chunks of drywall tumbled out of place and covered Steve's messy sanctuary. Through one crack he could see daylight and part of the splintered wooden ribs of a ruined wall.

"Let's see now, if I was the length of my own thumbnail and trapped in a tiny replica of my childhood home where would I hide?" There were distant crashes, the sound of glass shattering and the ominous thumps of dense, heavy things moving about carelessly from somewhere in the tiny home.

"I might hide in mommy and daddy's room. That's what I might do. If I was frightened. If I was tiny. Goodness! This is quite a mess, Steven!"

As the dust cleared, Steve realized that there wasn't much left of his childhood home. There were huge ragged holes everywhere and beyond them Steve could see tiny pieces of the immense being which hunted for him. Great, distant samples of fabric, random swatches of Linda's antiquated clothing. The shining black wall of the side of a yacht-sized girl's shoe, the bright white crumple of a bobby sock.

"Maybe, just maybe I would run to my own bedroom! So familiar and safe. Such a good place for a scared little boy to go. Such a good place for such a tiny, helpless boy to make his last stand! Are you in there, Steven? Are you going to stop me with your cap pistol? Are you going to pelt me with the bottle rockets you saved from last year's Fourth of July? Oh Steven? Steven!"

Directly overhead there was a terrible thump and then a crash as the ceiling gave way. Steve pissed himself as one monstrous pretty finger thrust it's bulk downwards through the ceiling. The fingertip filled the room and beyond it Steve got a glimpse of the enormous tanned breasts peeking buoyantly above a lacy frill, barely contained in the little outfit.

The walls buckled, broken in half horizontally and pushed outwards as Linda's frightening index finger began to hunt through his childhood bedroom. The thick, elegantly convex fingernail nudged the tiny destroyed things. The immense being must have spied something as the nail was used like a bulldozer blade to push the debris out away from something on the floor. Steve watched trembling and breathless as the pad of the fingertip pressed downwards, buckling and destroying the floor beneath it. It lifted up out of the crater it had created. One of Steve's dirty magazines clung tinily to the oils and humidity which perpetually coated the colossi's healthy skin. The finger swept upwards and as it retreated Steve could see her clearly.

The distant pretty face was puzzled and Linda hunkered down over the tiny thing dwarfed in the middle of her fingertip. Her pipeline-sized pigtails swayed as she squinted. A stray baseball broke free of the unctious ridges of her finger and plummeted. It ricocheted off the roof and lodged itself in the wall next to Steve's pile.

"Oh my! Is this what I think it is? You dirty little boy," the blonde goddess snickered.

Steve pushed away the dusty objects covering him and got to his feet. He glanced upwards once, the giantess had not seen his movement yet, instead she was fixated on the tiny magazine. Steve clambered quickly over the wreckage and shimmied his way through the broken wall studs. He fell heavily onto a pile of torn shingles and fragments of drywall. Then he was up onto his feet once again. Looking around quickly the only possible objective for him was under the end table next to the immense front door of this doppelgänger house.

"I think you need to be punished, little boy. Hiding dirty magazines in your room! Yes, I think I'll punish you now and then tell your mommy later so she can punish you for herself! Where are you hiding?"

As Steve ran, behind him he could hear the miniature house being destroyed further under Linda's vast, searching hands. Steve was only halfway to his goal when he heard Linda sigh in frustration. Something impacted against the front door and then it shivered. The huge front door of his childhood home swung inwards with a deafening noise. Steve's huge mother was in the doorway. One incredible foot thundered down onto the hardwood floor. A shockwave raced outwards from the impact of the towering high heel clad foot and hurt the tiny soles of Steve's feet.

"Ah! Mrs. Wilson! You're home early! I'm really glad you're here, your son has been a bad little boy today!"

Bethany's distant and foreshortened face frowned as the immense feet bore her into the house. She thundered closer to where tiny Steve stood trembling.

"Really, Linda? My little dolly has been bad, hmm?"

Steve tried to run as the awe-inspiring high heels grew huge as they boomed ever closer. He couldn't move a muscle, he was completely rigid. All Steve was able to accomplish was a slight wobble of his entire body.

"Where is that little doll? I'll punish him Linda. You've probably got better things to do at home tonight."

"He's got dirty magazines in his little room. But, ma'am, I can't find him in his little doll house. I think he's still hiding in here."

Steve could hear Linda press a frustrated finger through the roof and push around the contents. He continued to force the wobbling of his inert form as tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. The wobble grew into a lurching, rocking motion and then as the majestic, leather encased feet were upon him he toppled.

Steve's vision was spinning like a top. The sickening blur slowed and then stopped. He was staring at himself. His arms and legs had come off, still rocking slightly from the impact against the immense wooden floor. His stiff torso lay there as well, unbloodied, plastic, a doll's broken body. A shadow covered everything from above and Steve watched the unreal high-heeled shoe pistoned downwards, inadvertantly crushing his broken doll body to dust.

Steve was screaming. He was also finally awake and the one "in control". He found himself orgasming, trapped in the crevices of colossal writhing toes.

Chapter 13: Milk by V11

"You're going to mind me, Steve, or you're going to find yourself in a world of hurt."

Yes, he was. Yes, he definitely was.

The monstrous toes shifted with a sound like leather being twisted upon itself through a stadium full of amplifiers. Steve coughed as the pungent sweat was forced into his mouth as it made it's escape from the constricting folds. He disappeared helplessly into the hot crevices of his mother's toes.

"I can feel that little toy, Steve. You like being between my toes, don't you? You'll even put up with some pain to be here, won't you? I guess it's a small price to pay to be bathed in my wonderfully stinky sweat? Oh, I love squeezing you. Just knowing that's you there, mmm, that makes me hot. Yeah, that makes mommy hot. Isn't it funny, Steve, how a piece of toejam like you can make me wet? It's just divine."

Steve thought he was going to die. The mighty and unstoppable toes worked him over, rolling and repositioning him until his tiny belly and face were exposed upwards in the tight trench of pale flesh. Steve was greeted with a wholly distorted view of his mother. She was almost entirely ankle and shin to the tiny young man. The rest of her body seem to be merely a small embellishment on the end of her gargantuan lower leg. The distant face ringed in her signature dark red cloud of wild hair frowned as it came closer.

"There's that little thing. Just where I want it."

A panic inducing mass of flesh interposed itself between his gasping face and her distant enormity. It was the toes and bottom of her other foot. The vast underside of her big toe lowered until it was all Steve could see outside of his maternal prison.

"Where is it? I think you need some more attention, little boy."

The ridged bulk collided with Steve's face and his pitiful facial features were brutalized by a gentle stroke of the harsh, hard corrugations. His lower teeth caught upon the very edges of his mother's toe ridges. Steve hoarsely scream as his tiny skull was subjected to a lurching jackhammer-like motion as his teeth skipped from ridge-top to ridge-top down the entire length of the bulging anatomy.

The gigantic toes which held him shifted slightly and Steve's tiny head fell backwards. His tiny mouth had been filled by a smelly paste he had accidentally scraped free from his mother's massive digit. Steve gagged as he fought to push the filth free, but his jaw felt dislocated or perhaps simply wedged open a bit too far. In desperation he sunk his little tongue into the stinging, foul mass. The huge toe lingered above him as Steve struggled to free his arms so he could tear away the greasy abomination clogging his mouth.

"I think I actually for once like your struggling, little thing. Mm-hmm. It lets me know that I've got you right where I have always wanted you. You're my little dolly now, aren't you, Steve? Right. Between. Mommies. Toes. You think about that. I own you. I can do whatever I want to that skinny little body. Mmm."

Steve's tiny cock was smashed against his stomach as the giant toe lowered again.

"That's what I'm looking for. That right there."

Steve's junk was slowly twirled in a circle across his stomach as far above him his cruel mother sunk a massive finger into herself. She leered down at him, her pale cheeks flush as she bared her teeth.

"I don't want to hurt you, Steve. I certainly don't want to hurt that little cock. Did you know that Jesse misses that tiny thing? You guys certainly liked to fuck, didn't you? Well, when you weren't sneaking away to play with my pumps, that is. But, that's all gone now, isn't it, Steve? I'll give you some pussy. I'll give you the best of both worlds, hell, the best of all worlds. I've got responsibilities, you know. I am a goddess now, after all. You chose me. That's what Linda said. I've got to keep this little doll of mine happy, don't I? I'll make you happy, Steve. Just how you like it."

Bethany's finger was removed from her pussy and she reached down. The enormous fingertip gently slid across Steve's front from chest to toes. The gluey slime was wonderfully hot and it was incredibly thick. Steve shuddered as his nostrils were filled with the scent of his own cruel mother's monstrous sex.

"Oh! I felt that, little boy! You like that, don't you? Well, you had better just concentrate on breathing. I'm going to squeeze all that juice out of your little toy. Maybe I'll scrape some off my pretty toes later and give it to Jesse. She might like that. She's a good girl. She never tries to kill anyone. Jesse just wants to be loved. She doesn't deserve this, not like you."

Steve had tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes and they tickled his short cropped hair just above his ears. His incredible mother leaned down even further and blew him a kiss with a strangely stern face. A moment later the colossal musculature of the huge toes rippled through him and the ridged walls of his mother's flesh rocked around him once again.

Steve slid downwards until he was firmly captured in the gigantic crevices. The vicious anatomy began to pulse. It didn't take long until Steve orgasmed again. But his Brobdingnagian parent wasn't done. She massaged and coaxed every last drop out of the poor boy. Steve eventually passed out from it, but not before expelling the horrible clot of grease and dirt from his mouth. His tiny form became plastered into the sticky, foamy, fragrant juices which coated the huge toes.

Bethany retrieved the tiny, motionless thing and smiled evilly down upon him as he lay tangled and helpless in her palm. After that nice release, they both definitely needed a cigarette.

Chapter 14: Just a Cigarette by V11

Steve was helpless. He had been helpless long before he had chosen to reveal himself to his mother. Things got worse after that, as if it even could and Steve lost more to his gigantic parent than he was even aware that he had actual ownership of. When Bethany had come to housesit for Linda on that first day, consciousness had been denied to him, the simple freedom of movement had been denied not long after. Steve had been forced during his waking moments to lay inert, denied even the illusion of struggle as his mother's isolated and monstrous bits of predatory anatomy crushed, smothered and trapped him in countless ways. How could that be topped? Well, something was definitely wrong in his mind. Steve absolutely knew something was wrong. There were instances of missing time, lots of missing time, whole days where Steve simply wasn't there.

Did Linda make him crazy? That seemed reasonable, after all, Linda could dominate every piece of him, outside and inside. But, Steve knew that the beautiful colossus was not to blame in this instance. Was it Bethany's fault? That supposition was almost comical. Steve knew his mother, much deeper than he knew Linda. It was not so, could not be so, other than by accident.

Steve was at fault. He had made himself crazy, somehow, or allowed it to happen, or was simply the random, sad recipient of some underlying deficiency. Being perhaps an inch in height was obviously the initial stressor. Being an eternal victim and eternal toy aggravated and perhaps broke Steve. But that had only cracked opened a ragged, vulnerable hole straight to his psyche. The tininess, the helplessness, it was like a never-ending rug burn straight into a debilitating wound.

Steve missed Linda. Despite the beautiful goddesses need to subjugate and reprogram their tiny existences, Linda knew when to stop, knew when to nurture and allow healing. Linda knew when to redirect all of that majesty and power, transforming the absolute might into benevolence, even if for just long enough to keep them relatively sane and uninjured.

Bethany never stopped. His mother never really thought of him now much beyond the next stunt to subject her tiny, limp morsel to. She had often complained about Steve's unending activity, his sometimes destructive and always constant "doing". His mother had claimed that this was why she had insisted on him now being completely inert, whether by oxygen deprivation or by his own learned behavior.

Steve now knew from whom he had inherited the trsit of boundless energy. His mother had a shelf of realty awards for her hard work in her office. Creation, destruction, whatever. Both might require Herculean amounts of effort, activity. Bethany herself was ultimately to blame for Steve's hyperactivity.

The thick, disgusting concoction composed of vaginal juices and ripe foot sweat had at first congealed, hindering the little movements that Steve's exhausted body was still capable of. Now this infernal glue was drying. Steve was being mummified. He lay hyperventilating in his mother's immense palm. His limbs were helpless against the leathery shroud and were bound tightly.

Steve grinned as he pushed against the tightening, disgusting sheath that inhibited his chest from taking a full breath. He was becoming a worm, a worm for mommy. That's just what she wanted, he thought. Perhaps this had been her plan all along? To transform her only son completely into something other, something no longer human. Something fit and deserving to be cast into the humid, black hell of one of her high-heeled pumps. A worm that would be happy to live underneath Bethany's colossal, sweaty toes. A worm that would thrive in the hot, ridged, constantly squeezing and sliding crevices of maternal flesh. Maybe Steve was simply suffering right now for perfect adaptation: adaptation like those blind, colorful creatures which lived around thermal vents on the ocean's floor.

After the thunderous roar of the kitchen faucet there was further movement. Steve watched, glassy eyed as the ceiling spun, the only concrete reference point above him was the vertical mountain of his mother's torso and her distant, nearly hidden face. The ominous footfalls stopped and Steve listened to a cyclopean chair take the impossible weight of his parent's form. There was a muted explosion as the soup bowl was sat down onto Linda's kitchen table.

Steve's stomach fluttered as a great wind buffeted him. He was being taken straight upwards. He could hear the low murmurs, the beginnings of multiple, dissatisfied sounding howls as the air was forced past the tines of his mother's gently curled fingers. In the blink of an eye Steve rocketed towards the upper parts of the breathing, animate cliff. Floating above Steve's immense perch was his mother's face, large enough that taking it entirely in at once was an impossibility.

"There we are. Oh, Steve, just look at you!" The vast mouth contorted open in an instant and Steve was assaulted by a deafening belly laugh. He writhed across the seamed contours in the middle of her palm as his tiny eardrums took the full, unshielded brunt of her laughter.

Steve's ears were ringing and buzzing, filling his head with a lingering tinnitus that sounded like wrecked, dying amplifiers. Huge knuckles breached the placid view of the kitchen's countertops and in a moment had risen upwards to become the top of his mother's giant hand.

"Just what have you gotten into, Steve? It seems like you might have been somewhere that tiny little dolls like you shouldn't go. Hmm?"

As the huge index finger unfolded, Steve took in several deep breaths. He knew exactly what was coming. The fingertip covered him up as he rapidly gasped in preparation. The glistening fingerprint drove itself onto all of him as the light disappeared. Steve exhaled explosively right before the crush. He hear his bones creak as the hot, dense flesh molded around him.

Then there was dazzling light and glorious air as Steve was dragged upwards. His tiny head was dangling, his entire body adhered beneath the fingertip, just a grotesque, sticky satchel containing only loathed, useless frailty. Steve's eyes danced sickeningly in his head as the fingertip rolled until it became the living platform beneath him. His mother's mouth was quivering in an amused, confident smirk as she looked over the pitiful life stuck to her fingerprint.

"Did you get some, Steve? What did you do with that little cock? Did you find a sweaty crack and just go at it? Was it better than my stinky shoes?"

Steve was drooling out of the side of his mouth. He tried to speak up into the glittering green eyes but his jaw was so swollen and painful. He was obliged to simply lay there and concentrated on breathing. Steve sensed movement through the twenty-five foot long finger he lay upon. His mother's hulking thumb uncurled and pivoted outwards.

The fingertip beneath Steve tilted slightly as the thumb's massive presence came over him. The impending thumb caused Steve to swallow raggedly and begin to take rapid deep breaths once again. Bethany smiled cruelly and her thick digit lowered over the tiny thing.

"Look at this," rumbled the colossus, "you're a total mess, little boy." The thumbnail's edge pressed into Steve's crotch. "Do you have any juice left in there? Hmm? Or did I scrunch it all out already?"

Steve moaned wordlessly as the thumbnail dug into his midsection. The shining edge broke through the leathery skin and pushed into the jelly beneath it. His balls and shriveled penis were unearthed with slow, careful movements. Bethany grinned as she slid her nail beneath the little lump and looked it over. Steve's boner was long gone.

"Aww. It looks tired, Steve. It's sort of looks a lot like you now, doesn't it? Well, you're not a bottomless cum factory after all. I need to get you clean, little thing. How about a pre-soak, hmm?"

The finger Steve was plastered to rotated and lowered to within centimeters of her other palm. Steve groaned, collapsing into a ball as the thumbnail broke the sticky bonds. His short drop to her palm was for once pleasant. As he lay there on his side his mother's mouth lowered over him. A glob of spit larger than his body gathered and then slid downwards onto him in thick, gossamer ropes. The hot saliva strands dragged him bodily in a semicircle as the greater portion of it lowered. His mother was giggling, only a chortling rumble escaping her throat. As Steve took in a deep breath and clamped shut his eyes the hot, viscous fluid slammed into him.

Steve was crushed beneath a finger and then he was rolled like a piece of clay against the palm. The air had been expelled from his tiny lungs and he choked as he pulled in mouthfuls of his mother's saliva. He was lucky in that the froth contained bubbles of trapped, expired breath. It was another moment after gleaning only a quarter lungful of nasty air from a passing bubble that his tiny head was pinned beneath her vast fingertip. The saliva was ripped away with a cruel stroke across his face.

"I can't have you drowning in my spit, can I? If you're going to drown, little dolly, it's going to be in my wonderful foot sweat. Only the best for you, Steve. You better take deep breaths, little bug. I'm going to scrub you now."

Steve was gathered up like a matchstick between his mother's thumb and index finger. The gigantic ridged pads rolled him carefully between them. Steve caught glimpses of his mother's gargantuan face as she worked him over.

"We need to hurry this up, Steve, mommy needs a cigarette."

The entire hand rolled as she scrubbed him and Steve's naked little body was now being squeezed and rolled right above the soup bowl, "I think that's good." The index finger drew back away from the mighty thumb and Steve struggled to breathe as he began to slide down the poised fingertip.

"Well, go ahead! Jump! Just push out away from mommy." Bethany's face lowered and came in closer, her emerald eyes piercing him from just above the rim of the bowl. "God, you're just so pitiful, okay then."

Bethany's thumb pivoted closed against Steve's tiny legs. Her fingers gracefully dipped into the warm water, Steve upside down. He felt like he was in a waterskiing accident as the giant fingers propelled him back and forth underwater. Steve was bent back across the rounded bulk of his mother's thumb pad only to reverse direction and slam chest-first into the edge of her index fingernail.

Steve was lifted away from the bowl and dangled there, caught bodily in the middle of the water's retreating, draining stream. A moment later the hand rotated and Steve collapsed against the impromptu backrest of his goddesses index fingernail. He was raised up to her face and the gregarious looking green eyes looked over his tiny naked form.

"There's my teeny tiny dolly. Are you all clean now, Steve? Hmm?" Steve stared blankly into the enormous shining eyes as a massive row of knuckles surfaced from below his view. "Let's just see," a tree-like pinky finger unfolded and he trembled slightly as it threatened to insert itself between the fingernails where he lay. Instead of crushing his helpless body into paste the nail came on and touched his belly, running itself up his chest, "mmm, nice and squeaky clean."

Steve's mother's fingertips which pinched him lowered until they floated directly in front of her twenty foot wide mouth. The mouth came in even closer as Bethany leaned forward ever so slightly. Steve's powerless, naked form was wracked with a buzzing, tingling almost painful sensation as the huge sound waves pushed their way brutally through his body as she whispered sultrily.

"I'm not satisfied you're clean enough yet. So, are you still stinky, my little piece of toe jam?"

Steve laid there limply as his vision went white and his tiny eyes itched in their sockets. The huge, coffee cup sized droplets of water on his body vibrated in response to his mother's mighty whisper. They tugged at his skin as they slid in the opposite direction of the gigantic mouth, fleeing the pressure change of her throaty exhalation.

Steve could only breathe, limp and completely spent as he watched the great depressed trackway of her philtrum slide downwards as the immense, all-too-familiar mouth smirked. The huge structure of his mother's nose loomed ominously and a moment later Steve was confronted by the vast, oval portal of a nostril. It became twilight all around him as the fingertips partially inserted themselves, softly colliding with the fleshy rim of the tunnel.

Steve was deafened as a whistling gale was drawn in through the still unsealed cracks of light. Steve's tiny torso and head flailed helplessly in the powerful updraft. His hair was whipped violently and a second later one of Steve's tiny, useless arms took flight upwards like a tattered, boneless flag. His arm crashed back to the ridged surface and he could hear and feel her giggling.

"I'm not so sure," the tremendous voice was muted yet still vibrated the air surrounding him like gelatin, "I think I need another sample. That is, if I don't lose hold of this little thing." Steve could feel her laughing as his ears popped. The colossal fingertips that held his lower legs tilted slightly but decisively as they parted. The miserable young man fell like a sack of potatoes, out beyond the menacing protection of the huge nail tips. Steve lay on hot, smooth flesh studded with short, stiff rods, his monstrous mother's well-trimmed, delicate nostril hairs. The tiny, naked young man began to shriek as he tried to extricate himself. Steve could only manage to rock his exhausted body, wallowing in the hellish nostril as the cruel and thunderous laughter deafened him.

The nearly vertical cave of his mother's flesh quaked as Steve screamed wordlessly in the twilight. The sharply cropped ends of the grotesque hairs threatened to pierce his naked skin as he thrashed.

"Do you like it in there, my little booger? You're going to make me sneeze if you keep up that wiggling. Stop it!"

Steve's maternal tomb went black as the fingertips pressed into the oval aperture. The nails of Bethany's thumb and index finger pressed into him, grinding him into the nostril's horrific surface as they blindly sought to capture his exhausted form. The pitiful young man was forced further into his mother's nostril as she clumsily tried to take hold of his fragile form. "Dammit, Steve! Stop struggling!" The wide fingernails lunged forward, causing the infernal tunnel's walls to bulge in protest. They missed their mark and closed against each other just above Steve as he was smashed ineffectually beneath them. The ends of the massive digits retracted and for a moment Steve could see the table laid out far below him, his mother's other hand resting next to the bowl of water.

"Come on, Steve, I was only kidding. You weren't supposed to crawl any deeper into my nostril. Do you want me to leave you there, hmm? I will, you know. So, come on out." The hand resting on the table slapped against it angrily, "Now!" Bethany was silent for a moment, Steve knew she was waiting on him. He floundered in the hot, prickly darkness and the nightmarish floor beneath him trembled in response. But his cruel mother's play and subsequent bathing had rendered his tiny body completely exhausted. He just couldn't do it.

"Fine. You had your chance. I'll just pick you out myself."

There was a flourish of enormous movement outside and one of Bethany's little fingers closed off the light as it thrust itself into the cave. The digit slid harshly over Steve as the floor grew firmer. The digit filled the entire tunnel. It crushed him beneath it for a moment, "there you are!" Steve was raked backwards savagely. The digit was swiftly replaced by Bethany's thumb and index finger. They greedily closed on Steve's twig-like lower legs and dragged him back towards the opening before stopping there.

"You should have obeyed your goddess. Now then, I still want to know, do you smell clean, little thing?"

There was a deep rumble as the wind screamed around Steve. His useless body was lifted upwards and he whipped back and forth, anchored and saved from death by his tiny trapped shins. Steve's arms flailed in the cyclonic current, like he was in a freefall, but this black void was definitely not a blue sky.

Steve came crashing down, slumped across the great closed crevice which cruelly cemented his legs in place. As he was removed from his mother's nostril Steve could only shiver. The vast fingers raised slightly and then tilted. Steve's anchored body tumbled out beyond the fingernails onto the vast tip of his mother's nose. He was briefly dragged through the thick, waxy oils as she drew him across it like a tiny bit of down. Steve was in shock and it worsened slightly as those enormous emerald eyes crossed, twinkling cruelly as they followed his helpless, lurching body.

Steve was gently laid onto the table. One of his mother's hands lowered and the frightening fingertips crashed into the tabletop very close to him as it relaxed. A finger raised and the fingernail's edge claimed him beneath it, pressing down onto the tiny length of most of his body.

"You smell so fresh and clean! Well, this goddess needs a cigarette. Do you want to go outside with me, Steve? You probably need some nicotine too, don't you, after all those teeny-tiny orgasms. Well, little thing, mommy has you covered. You can just bum a smoke off of me."

The dominating finger raised upwards off of him and the immense hand itself was gone in a flash from where it had relaxed on the table. Steve's breath was a hitching, shallow thing. She broke a rib, he thought, that was the only explanation for the pain in his side. Something crashed to the table a short distance away. The air it displaced as it violently settled washed over him with a familiar scent slightly reminiscent of raisin bran: fresh, unlit cigarettes.

Steve recognized the huge object as a pack of smokes, his mother's favorite brand. As he struggled to raise an arm so he could see if there was any swelling on his side the pale, thick fingers worked open the rigid paper top of the pack. A giant cigarette was towed out from the stack between her enormous fingernails, from where it had rested with it's kin like denuded trees on the flat bed of a logging truck.

Steve was covered in shadow as a vast arm shot out past him towards the center of the table. A moment later he winced painfully as the stick pin clattered to the tabletop. Huge fingertips pushed it around, displaying it for a moment to him.

"I want to have my hands free while I smoke, Steve. You know, I get tired of holding you all the time. We've been lucky so far, mommy hasn't accidentally suffocated you. But five straight minutes of being pinched by me? That's halfway to brain death if I get it wrong. I could put you in my palm. But, I don't want to do that. Like I said, I get tired of holding you, just... tired of you. Tired of cleaning up your messes, tired of bailing you out. You're not a baby anymore, Steve. Besides, there are proper bugs out there. What if I don't pay attention? What if I'm daydreaming while a fly is having it's way with you in my hand? What am I supposed to do then?"

The gigantic fingers took up the straight pin and the point of it slammed down close to Steve's inert form.

"If Linda just had toothpicks somewhere then mommy might not have a sore thumb. Right, you teeny-tiny bastard?"

The huge darkly gleaming shaft of the straight pin scraped point-first across the table and nudged him.

"Godammit, Steve. Now I'm going to have to tell Linda I scratched her nice kitchen table."

The huge straight pin raised and Steve watched his mother's eyes narrow as she brought it over him, "sometimes, you know, sometimes I don't know why I've put up with you for so long." The huge lance of steel was retracted, sliding backwards across the table with the gigantic hand, "But it's better now. You're my plaything now. It's going to stay that way, Steve, for a long time. You're mine now. I own you. You're mine!" The titaness smiled darkly.

Bethany took up the cigarette and sunk the straight pin straight into the center of the filter. She smirked down at Steve as she worked the straight pin in a tight, tiny circle, widening the filter-length void she had created. Steve was shaking, he knew what was coming, it was right there, plain as day. He tried to lunge towards her and failed, only eliciting a soft twitch that rippled down his body. He tried to speak, but his poor, tiny jaw was sprained and much too painful. Not that the vast being could hear him anyways.

Bethany laid down the straight pin and brought the filter's creamy white end down to where Steve lay.

"Let's go have a cigarette, Steve. Just you and I. I'll share it with you. Best buds forever. Now hold still, little boy."

Steve was drooling, his lower lip quivered as he hyperventilated. He bowed his head, preferring to weep privately while facing the tabletop than to stare into those ferocious green eyes. The tremendous thumb and index finger closed slowly around the naked young man. He was lifted off the table, his slender, pliable limpness trapped between Bethany's fingernails.

Bethany worked him feet-first down into the hole she had created in the cigarette's filter. When he was halfway in she clasped him gently across his belly, making sure the tiny forearms were trapped against his torso by her fingernails. She worked him in slowly, wiggling the miniscule slack form more than pushing. After several minutes of manipulating him in front of her eyes Bethany was satisfied.

Steve's mother was laughing as a fingernail slid across the flat end of the neatly cropped filter. The tip of her fingernail touched the tiny head which barely stuck out, "that's nice, Steve! Now we can share the cigarette! What would you do without me? Well, maybe you wouldn't be suffering quite as much. Now pay attention, Steve. Mommy wants you to cry out if I hurt you, okay? I'm just going to make sure you'll stay put in here."

Bethany took hold of the filter sides and gently squeezed, rotating the filter as she worked her way around it, tamping the neatly arranged filaments against Steve's tiny body.

"Okay!" Bethany sang musically, "I'm going to enjoy this."

The middle-aged redhead retrieved her cigarette lighter and made her way to the nice home's back sliding glass door. A moment later she was outside and brought the cigarette up to her lips.

"Mommy will try not to hotbox it, Steve. I would hate to burn up those tiny little feet. Let me test it. Just a little test, you let me know how it is, sweetie, okay?"

The colossal lips curled and pursed as the filter was lightly engulfed. Steve was having problems with his breathing, the terror had taken control of it and the throb in his side spiked into a sharp pain. Steve cried in terror as the fleshy cave undulated around him. The glinting tips of enormous, wet teeth closed half a body length from his tiny face. Suddenly Steve's skin grew cold as air was pulled past him through the filter and into the bottomless void of his mother's vast mouth. He was out in the light again and directly in front of him the cliffside of voluptuous lips smiled mockingly.

"Mmm. I think that will work, Steve. Are you ready? I have so waited for this!"

Steve's scratchy prison collided again with the sexily pouting mouth. He heard the unmistakable ratchet of his mother's lighter being struck. A moment later there was a whistling, deafening rumble and hot vapor raced across Steve's body. He was choking, his skin felt like it was on fire as a fierce tingling overtook his nerve endings.

Steve spasmed and then he was in the light again. The cigarette was tucked between two of her fingers, far below Steve was the soft square of her palm. Diagonal plumes of thick smoke stabbed downwards from his mother's nose, obscuring her grinning mouth.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm! That tastes so good, Steve! You're going to have the buzz of your life, aren't you, little thing? Mmm, yes!"

Steve's mother was smiling at him, she was gloating, effortlessly in total control. She purred and the monstrous thumb of the hand which held the cigarette rose and gently collided with the end of the filter, tamping the tiny face backwards into the cigarette's end neatly.

"You're going to be my teeny-tiny dolly again, Steve, aren't you? Not long now, is it? You're going to be nice and helpless when that nicotine takes hold. You belong to me, Steve." The thumbpad blotted out his mother's gargantuan smug face and the endless swirls ran lightly across the panting face before pulling away. "You just remember that. I'll do whatever I want to you, little thing."

The end of the cigarette was drawn upwards in front of Bethany's amused eyes. The mammoth thumbnail's edge carefully ran across the screaming features as Bethany grinned. "This teeny-tiny face is almost as much fun to touch as that toy between your legs." Steve's nose had began to bleed as the nail's blunt edge explored. Bethany played with his slack mouth, prying it open and tried to coax the adorable little tongue free of it's hiding spot. The hopeless young man gagged as the hard keratin shell pushed inwards as far as his mother dared, straining his cheeks and jaws, teeth and lips. Finally his goddess-sized mother left his face alone. "You're no fun Steve. Not like Jesse, she knows when she's been beat. She knows how to worship me properly." Steve's eyes rolled up in his head as the enormous lips puckered, becoming huge and finally docking with him once again.

Steve didn't think it could get any worse, but, of course he was wrong. He felt like his body was betraying him as the nicotine began to affect everything. He was wracked by endless tremors that such a massive dose of the toxin could incur. He had begun to sweat and in the rumbling, hellish jets of cigarette smoke it had transformed into a sticky paste which clung to him. He was nearly blind now, his eyes red and swollen, stinging fiercely from the torturous, poisonous smoke.

"Lick. Lick your goddesses pretty thumb and beg me to put out the cigarette."

Steve forced his eyes open and watched as the pad of his mother's thumb grew huge. His tiny nose was squashed painfully as the greasy grooves slammed against his face. The ridged flesh ground against his features as the thumb pad slid downwards. There was daylight and the underside of his mother's thumbnail came into view. The huge digit detached from his face and bulged as it pivoted towards him. The thumbnail's edge landed across his chin and beyond it Steve caught a glimpse of his mother smirking cruelly.

"Put that tiny mouth to work, Steve," she narrowed her eyes as her thumbnail dabbed against tiny flushed oval embedded in her cigarette filter. Steve vomited explosively and the thick nail clumsily inserted itself, wedging his tiny mouth open.

"That's good, little thing. Let's put out that cherry and go back inside. I think you'll be nice and limp now."

Wind roared in Steve's ears and the breath was knocked from him as his prison was placed on the concrete step. He shivered as the huge pump-clad feet slammed down in front of him.

"Mommy has to be careful now, doesn't she? I'd just hate to squish you, little thing. Now, let's put that out."

The high heels took dainty, bone shaking steps around the smoldering cigarette as they got into position. One massive pump rose upwards and the softly pointed toe of it hovered above Steve for a moment. As it began to lower with careful confidence Steve spasmed with a retching cough. Darkness mercifully overwhelmed him as he passed out.

Chapter 15: Bad, Crazy by V11

Despite the beautiful 1:72 scale house and yard there were logistics that Linda had not solved for the tiny people yet. In the living room of Jesse's abode were the all-too-familiar plastic soda bottle caps, one for excretion, one for potable water. They looked like strange, thoroughly out of place industrial tanks surrounded by all of the rustic and comforting clutter.

Jesse painfully rolled off the couch. Her bed was fouled by Bethany's saliva and she was forced to seek drier comfort elsewhere. The poor thing hobbled painfully into the living room, but could not help to pause in the hallway mirror. Jesse looked like shit, there were inches-wide light bruises which ran in huge, slightly curved lines completely across her skin. Evidence that she had been gently savaged by a colossal thumbnail's edge.

"Shit," Jesse spat upon realizing there were broken blood vessels on the outside of one of her calves. Obviously further evidence of her brutal treatment beneath one of Bethany's car-sized thumbs.

Jesse gingerly clambered over the edge of the jury-rigged bathroom, mindful of the thick plastic threads and strengthening ribs which comprised the inner wall of the massive plastic cap. She squatted on the stiff, fiberglass-like tissue and relieved herself.

It even hurt to piss.

Jesse grimaced stoically and put up with the ache. She shut her eyes, trying to think of anything else besides that nightmarish vision. Tiny, too tiny, and that massive, punishing digit looming over her. That lacquer-glossed nail of Steve's mother, like some sort of crazy, out of place piece of a ski boat's hull. Massive and hard and cold. Touching her, bruising her, pressing and sliding between her kicking…

Jesse took hold of the thick plastic rim and went slack in her squat, her tightly folded knees swung up and kissed the outsides of her shoulders. She shut her eyes and let the tears come again.

There was the barest hint of some distant quake and Jesse squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. Another one, and another, then they became a cadence. Soon, anything which weighed less than Jesse herself within the little home was chiming in with it's own counter reaction to the massive footsteps. Everything suddenly stopped and Jesse was left listening to the pictures on the walls rock on their fulcrums for a moment longer.

"I love this adorable little house!" The feminine voice had so much strength behind it that the structure did little to dampen it at all. Jesse looked up and into the rafters as she began to tremble.

"Where is my teeny-tiny thumb lover?" The thin plastic windows rattled in their little casings, "are you baking bread in your tiny fairytale house?" The light through the windows was obscured for a moment and then deafening thumps shook the roof.

"I'll just be nice and careful," Jesse's grip tightened on the plastic as the house quaked, "this little thing needs some sort of a handle. It's so fragile."

A horizontal crack of light shot across the tops of the walls and Jesse's ears popped. With a panicked yelp the tiny, naked girl cleared the thick plastic wall and scrambled on her hands and knees across the room. As the roof disappeared Jesse wormed her way beneath her couch.

"Jesse! Jesse? Eew! Geez, it smells like a hamster cage in here! Well, good thing I brought replacements." Jesse watched as the cap she had just used disappeared and was replaced with a clean one.

There was humorous snort, "look at that! I would never have thought that piles of shit could be cute! Aww! Jesse? Hmm."

Jesse could hear movement in her bedroom. It was her bed, slamming against the wall and then being dragged across the floor, "I thought for sure you'd be in your dolly bed. Where's Jesse at, Steve? Is she hiding? Hiding from her mother-in-law? I think she's embarrassed, Steve. Not like you, no. You were never embarrassed. You just didn't want to get caught. Mmm-hmm."

The floor beneath Jesse shivered as the skyscraper sized woman rooted around. The air in the tiny house became filled with the overpowering stench of cigarettes and wine. Jesse could hear the slight slur in Bethany's thunderous voice.

"Why are you both so messed up, hmm? Mike isn't messed up. Linda is lucky, isn't she, Steve? My children want to fuck me. Fetishes. All of these crazy fetishes! First you and your creepy fixation with mommy's feet. I'll never forgive you. You put me through so much hell, little thing. But Jesse's fetish, it's cute! It's crazy, I know, but poor Jesse just wants to be loved."

Bethany's attention was focused on the kitchen and Jesse tried to calm the hard knot in her stomach. She couldn't leave the shadowy safety beneath the couch and find another place to hide. Bethany was too large. The titaness could see everything going on within the tiny home with her colossal green eyes, like twin prison spotlights.

"It's not her fault it's crazy. She's just trapped in a bad, crazy world and so alone now. Teeny tiny little Jesse. Such a pretty little girl. Those little hips pushing back against mommy's thumb. Mmm. She knows what to do, Steve. Jesse knows. She knows how to be submissive. Jesse knows that mama is in charge."

Jesse cried out in surprise as Steve's slack form was dumped into the middle of the living room. He was gleaming with sweat or saliva or perhaps something entirely worse.

"You abandoned her, you little worm. You turned your back on Jesse, for your own mother."

A gargantuan index finger covered up Steve's upper body. Jesse watched as the thick digit's pale flesh plumped as it eased it's weight onto the subtly trembling form.

"I ought to smush you. That's what you deserve."

Bethany's finger raised and Steve's tiny form was taken along with it. The loose arms and legs dangled before the surface tension was broken. Steve fell back to the floor. The fingertip's nail nudged him repeatedly, aggressively pushing his skinny body around. Jesse got a good look at him and her hands flew to her mouth. Steve's face was badly swollen, familiar dark lines of bruises crisscrossed it. Dried, peeling blood clung like brittle, dark rags to his lips and chin. It was old, bloody outflow from Steve's swollen nose. Jesse realized that Steve was not trembling out of fear, but trembling like he had suffered a head trauma or poisoning. Something bad had happened to him.

As Jesse recoiled in horror Steve's aggressor revealed herself again, right in front of the tiny woman. A monstrous, bandage encircled thumb joined the bullying finger. Steve's skinny, defenseless body was effortlessly gathered up between the scarily sized digits. His mother retrieved him like someone would casually pick up a paper clip or rubber band from a table. The stocky, powerful fingertips hovered there downwards, just above the floor as they slid past one another, mercilessly compressing and rolling the diminutive form. A grotesque sound escaped Steve, like a death-rattle, as his lungs were efficiently emptied by his mother's cruel, habitual caress.

Without thinking, Jesse shot out from beneath the couch.

"Stop it!" Jesse shrieked up at the massive form, "you're going to kill him!"

Bethany's alcohol flushed face lit up with joy,"there's my pretty girl! Oh, I missed you, Jesse!" Bethany's eyes twinkled as she callously dropped Steve to the living room floor. A gust of wind upended knicknacks as the colossus withdrew her injured hand from the house. "Someone else missed you too! Can you guess who?"

A mammoth and plump thumb rose upwards from beyond the old fashioned crown molding. The great digit waggled in a mock wave as Bethany grinned, "who's in charge here, Jesse? Who is it? I want you to tell me. Tell Steve so he'll learn. Is it the gigantic mama?"

Jesse knelt next to Steve and rolled him over. She blinked back tears as she took in the aweful bruises which covered him. He stank strongly of something which took Jesse a moment to place because of it's overwhelming pungency. Cigarette smoke. Steve's feet and shins were noticeably discolored a yellowish-brown.

The stout thumbpad shook the house as it hooked itself over the top of the outer wall of the room. The digit flexed up and down slowly as it perched there. Beyond it Bethany's foreshortened, red cheeked face grinned, "what I like about you, Jesse, is that you know how to behave around authority. Uh-huh. You could learn something from her, Steve. You better pay attention, little thing! Jesse is the best little groveller. The best." Bethany's thumb traced across the top of the walls, sending stuttering vibrations down through the groaning wooden structure as she smiled. It was a strange mixture of flirtation and threat.

Steve's eyes slowly opened and he solemnly took in Jesse's sobbing form. He was mouthing words up at her and Jesse bent low, placing an ear close, "She put me... in a cigarette filter and... I'm so sorry, Jesse! I... I didn't mean it! Please... She's going to... Kill me. I can't... I can't get away... I can't..." Jesse pulled away. Steve was out again.

"Jesse just wants to be loved, Steve! Even if that means she's under mama's thumb. You better just accept it. Just like Jesse. She's strong! Jesse knows how to handle me. She does! She knows exactly how to worship me! And I sure know how to handle teeny tiny bug people! So you better shape up!"

Jesse spun and placed herself between Bethany and Steve. She jabbed a finger accusingly up at the vast, ruddy nosed face, screaming, "leave Steve alone, you crazy bitch! You're killing him!"

"Did you hear that, Steve? Jesse knows. She's not stupid, like you. She knows who's in charge," Bethany's face came much closer and she cooed softly as her loosely held fist and straightened thumb lowered into the tiny room.

"Leave him alone! You just leave him alone!" Jesse punched the oncoming flesh as Bethany giggled. The tiny woman was folded down beneath the digit's irresistible mass as she struggled vainly. A miniature fairytale spinning wheel snapped to pieces against the thumbnail as Jesse was covered and pressed to the floor.

"Mmm. See, Steve? Mama is in charge here. You. Better. Learn. Just like Jesse."

Bethany's massive thumb stroked Jesse tenderly as she screamed.

"You put up a good fight, don't you? But it's all an act, isn't it? You like being tiny, I know you do. I've seen you with Linda. She's pretty, isn't she? Prettier than me. I'm not jealous. I'm not! I can make you do little tricks too."

Bethany's thick digit pressed down again on the tiny, struggling lump. Her massive mouth lowered over the room, "your my little doll too, you know. Whenever I want."

The colossal thumb held fast as Bethany began to count. There was a quivering, panicked tickle and then stillness. Bethany was smiling as she removed her thumb. The tiny beauty was still plastered in the center of it, motionless. Bethany brought her thumb to her face and smiled happily. Jesse looked like a tiny angel laying there, a Michelangelo beauty drifting across a blue sky. A halo of moisture surrounded the dark locks. The tiny thing had lost her dinner during her brutal transformation.

"Hi," Bethany whispered softly down into the tiny body, "you are so pretty!" The massive lips puckered and collided with Jesse, the soft, volumous musculature burying her. The pleasantly limp body was ripped free of the overheated ovoid of flesh by them and drawn into the slick passageway of Bethany's enormous mouth.

Steve was plucked up out of the tiny house as an afterthought and Bethany reclined onto Linda's bed. Bethany's tongue savored the tactile mapping of the inert woman as she stroked between her own legs, tiny Steve discarded for the moment between her pale and plump feet.

Chapter 16: Breed by V11

"Shhh! It's okay! Steve can't hurt you now, Thumbelina. So, let's get that tiny cock up in you. I don't mind, Thumbelina. I know he's my dolly but it's okay. It's okay! Really! I don't mind at all! What do you think I could ever do with that tiny cock, hmm? He just wants to fuck my shoes and my stinky feet. I can barely even see that tiny thing. I like to flick it, but that's all mama does with it. That tiny thing is always hard around us, isn't it? I can't do anything with it, but it can fill you up! Right? You liked that, remember? You always liked fucking my son."

Bethany's gigantic face was flushed red, her huge green eyes were sleepy from too much wine. She could barely focus on the tiny beings she held in front of her eyes. Jesse was crying, her tiny body captured between one set of robust thumb and index fingertips. The other hulking, pinched digits loomed gigantically in front of her. Steve's slender form was trapped in their unmerciful grip. Jesse could only see his stomach and hips, one leg dangling free. The rest of her boyfriend was hidden like an unfound fossil in the press of the hot, ridged crevice. His upper body was bent hellishly back, disappearing deeply into his own mother's flesh.

The two tiny bodies were brought together and the massive green eyes fought to focus. "You've got to help me, Jesse. How am I supposed to get that teeny tiny cock up in you unless you give me directions?" The colossal blotchy face grimaced grotesquely as Bethany laughed thunderously. "It's sort of like backing up a boat trailer, isn't it? You gotta get out where I can see you and give me hand directions in the mirror, Thumbelina! Goodness." Steve's bony hips were pressed painfully against Jesse's stomach as his sticky cock was folded against her upper pubic hair.

"I told you. You're going to make me teeny tiny babies, Thumbelina. You and Steve are going to make up for getting rid of your mistake. That wasn't a mistake! That was a baby! Don't you understand? That was a baby!" Jesse was hyperventilating in terror as the pretty green eyes narrowed. "I wanted to be a grandmother," the skyscraper-sized woman grumbled ominously. There was no way to predict what Bethany was capable of right now. Jesse doubted that the colossus would remember any of this tomorrow. Jesse also wondered if she and Steve would be alive in the morning the way things seemed to be escalating.

"You're going to make me lots of babies. Linda and you can look after them. Linda is careful, isn't she? I want more playthings, you little bitch. I want a handful of pretty dolls, just like you." Steve's cock was ground against Jesse's stomach and thighs for a moment before Bethany sighed. The fingers pinching Jesse swept her towards the vast mouth. Bethany's lips were glossy with drunken, unattended spittle. Her hot breath was so sour with wine that Jesse's eyes watered.

"You just need some lubrication, little thing. That's all you need," the massive lips awkwardly pronounced. Bethany's mouth slowly assaulted Jesse, her tiny legs were teased away from the monstrous pinch. They were squeezed and played with between the tons of slick and pleated lip flesh. The giant pebbly monster of Bethany's tongue forced itself onto Jesse, surging past her legs and falling heavily onto her breasts and head. She was screaming, thrashing as the alarmingly alien taste buds pressed against her face, one of them inadvertently plugging her tiny mouth for a moment like some demonic ball gag. Jesse trembled in shock as the tongue's tip pulled away from her face and concentrated on her crotch. The giantess finally pulled her back from her mouth with a look of smug satisfaction.

"We'll make that little cock right at home, won't we, Thumbelina? Mama's spit all over my little thumb lover's cootchie. Too bad we can't put a little soleless shoe over your tiny pussy, hmm? Make a little decoy! That would make him sit up and pay attention, wouldn't it?" Jesse was held back out in front of the wandering, bleary eyes and Steve's tiny crotch was pressed harshly into her. Jesse grimaced, shutting her eyes as tight as she could as Steve's hips were thrust against her repeatedly. Finally in frustration his cock and hips were stroked over all of her body which peeked past the monstrous digits.

"Goddammit!" Bethany thundered. Jesse and Steve were both dumped onto the edge of the little fake yard of Jesse's house. The middle-aged colossus unfolded her incredible naked form from the bed, her soft looking, thick and pale legs sending quakes through everything as they touched down on the floor. Bethany awkwardly fell forward off of the edge of the bed onto her knees. The abrupt intrusion of the dark red curly mane and face beyond the little yard caused Jesse to shriek once in panic as a strong wind tore through the tiny trees.

"Oh, shut up, you little whore. Mama isn't going to hurt you." One set of Bethany's mighty fingers thrust upwards at the edge of the table and curled, thumping down to rest on the yard. Her other hand appeared and it swept in over Steve's inert form. A stocky index finger unfolded and lowered onto the tiny young man authoritatively.

"You need to wake up, little thing. I want you to fuck Jesse. Mama wants some babies from you two. I want my teeny-tiny dollies to breed. Hey? Get up!" Bethany's fingernail delicately ran across the tiny form before she used it as a lever to roll him across the rough ground.

"Stop it, Bethany! You're hurting him!" Jesse weakly cried as she fought to sit up. The enormous head turned to regard her and Bethany was frowning, "you stay out of this, Thumbelina. Steve isn't worth your time, remember? He tried to kill you." Bethany turned back to her tiny unmoving son. "You just fuck everything up, don't you? Everything you touch, even now. Look how you have fucked up poor Jesse! It's a good thing you're tiny, huh? It's so easy for me to keep you out of trouble this way. Wake up!"

Bethany's index fingernail worked it's way underneath the limp body and she completely straightened her finger with a quick little motion. Steve was tossed away, tumbling in the air low over the fake grass. Jesse was screaming in horror as Steve rolled to a stop close to the porch.

Jesse was bawling and managed to get to her feet. She was reeling and stooped over in pain from Bethany's monstrous play. The tiny woman moved as fast as she was able to where Steve lay. The gigantic reddened face hovering low in the sky overhead watched the tiny young woman make her way, ignoring the obvious pain caused by the glued pebbles which made up the substrate of the yard. "Where do you think you're going, Thumbelina? Hey? You belong to me, little girl. You both do."

Jesse was gently knocked off of her feet by an enormous finger. "You don't belong to each other, not anymore. Didn't I make that clear enough? You're mine. If you're going to pay attention to someone, it's me. Steve is just a pitiful little bug. We just need his sperm to get inside of you, that's all. That was all he was ever good for anyways."

Jesse got to her wobbling, unsteady feet and turned away from the exasperated face, hobbling in the direction of the porch once again. "Goddammit! Wake up, Steve!" Jesse was instantly outdistanced by the bulky hand which swept past her. Steve was carelessly pinched up between his mother's fingers. "Well, if he won't wake up, I guess I need to work on better aim. Let's practice, Jesse. We'll figure it out. You're such a good girl, aren't you? You can put up with a lot. You're so nice and patient in Mama's fingers, even though I can see you crying once in a while."

Bethany was smiling as her other hand rose from where it had been resting on the edge of the table. The massive thumb and index finger came close to one another as it sped across the ground, causing the little fake leaves of the trees to rustle. Jesse's eyes grew huge and she spun away from the impending pinch. She stumbled up the fake wooden steps and onto the porch. The gigantic fingertips spread a bit as the digits thrust into the space between the fake awning and fake floorboards of the tiny home's porch.

Jesse was slammed backwards by a fingernail's broad and curving bulk. She was tossed into the door jamb and spun raggedly, landing in the tiny foyer as the colossal digits pressed together just beyond the tiny door. "Where did you go?" Huge fingers thumped down, rocking the tiny house as they dabbed and probed for her tiny body.

"You playing hide and seek, Thumbelina? Is that it?" Jesse screeched and kicked her tiny legs, scuttling across the floor on her back as giant ringlets of red hair filled the space where the absent roof should sit. Bethany's huge features slid into place over the tiny home as her hair scraped and bounced across the tops of the walls.

"There you are! Aww! Mmm. Don't you want to play with us? It's going to be your favorite game. Your favorite little hobby. I wonder…" Bethany's massive mouth opened wide and the enormous tongue unfurled, dropping into the living room. The mouth fought not to smile as the tongue probed and curled. Jesse rolled over onto her arms and legs and clawed her way across the miniature carpet as the frightening, slimy beast knocked over an end table. Bethany retracted her tongue with a disgusted purr. Her mouth worked for a moment and she pelted Jesse with a tiny cup and saucer, a little picture and a miniature lampshade.

"Eww. Those didn't taste very good! Ahh! There you are! Come on, now. I want to get you pregnant, little thing. It's going to be nine long months I have to wait. Chop chop!"

Jesse slipped into the kitchen as Bethany's colossal fingers lowered into the living room. She tore a open cabinet door next to the stove and dove inside, squirming painfully atop little gelatin molds and crockery. Her fingertips grabbed hysterically for the edge of the door and caught it, slamming it shut.

"Jesse! Jesse? Where did you go? It amazes me how quick you can be after all I just put you through. You're a tough little thing. Aww. Did I scare you? Don't make me tear your little house apart. If you're a good girl and come out now, I promise that later I'll fuck you with my thumb. You'd like that, right? Wouldn't you like to just lay there, feeling loved and not alone for a little bit?"

Jesse squeezed her eyes shut and giggled a little bit, surprising herself with how hysterical her own voice sounded. There was no reason to try to calm her breathing, she realized. Bethany couldn't hear it at her size. That was just ridiculous.

"Jesse. Don't make Mama look for you. I like this teeny tiny doll house! I don't want to make a mess."

Massive, unstoppable things began to shake the little house as they tentatively probed for the soft, naked body.