Sleep provided a paltry comfort. Anthony's dreams were invaded by a faceless giantess chasing him through a city.

As Anthony fled, running breathlessly from every bare footfall that shook the world around him, the rest of the city seemed to be blissfully unaware. Even as her foot turned pedestrians and cars to smears and foil respectively, they continued crossing and driving streets.

Anthony would turn a corner, to hide behind a skyscraper, and the giantess chasing him would shatter it to rubble with just a gesture. Dust and debris threatening to crush him almost as much as the titaness pursuing him.

The chase was almost comical. Every one of the giantess's strides carried her a city block. Anthony's fervent dash only moved him into position for her next step to threaten him more. Her toes caught him in their stride, to her nothing more than a brush of her smallest digits against a fleeing insect, but to Anthony the pedicured toes impacted against his back and sent him flying through the air, crashing to the ground, and rolling to a stop.

He had no time to recover, instead scrambling to a cross street in terror. Anthony looked back, in time to see the giantess's foot come down at the entry to the street, but was unprepared to run into a brick wall.

Anthony panicked, still not feeling the pain of the collision. He pawed at the wall, scratching at the brick. He had thought this was a street. He couldn't recall it being a dead end, and he'd never seen a dead end terminate in a brick wall so many stories high.

The world shook with tremors around him. He turned to see the giantess standing in the alley, her feet blocking the only way out. Anthony's mind spun in uncontrollable fear. How had she fit in the alley? Had the alley been a street?

Anthony didn’t get an opportunity to reconcile the contradictions in his perceptions as the giantess dropped to her knees. Everything in the alley was rocked like a minor explosion. Anthony was shaken from his feet, trash cans seemed to jump and crash to the pavement, windows shattered, even the buildings surrounding him seemed to lift and crash back down with the force of the giantess hitting the ground.

The giantess then dropped to her hands, her palms framing the alley, her giant breasts hanging in the air over Anthony. Suddenly, as though the new proximity had revealed them, Anthony could make out the features of this building shattering pursuer. He could make out the thick rimmed black glasses, the bright red lipstick on the plush lips, the dark waves of hair. All of the features of Grace came into view, and her grin was bone chilling.

Her mouth opened and words came out, but Anthony couldn’t comprehend them. Syllables like demonic prose erupted from her mouth, and as they did, saliva spilled over her lower lip. The spit flowed, seemingly unabated, down Grace’s chin and pooling onto the alley. Anthony desperately tried to avoid what became a torrent of spit, radiating out from only feet away where it fell from Grace’s still taunting mouth, but his hands and feet found no purchase in the brick.

“Tony…” She taunted, suddenly comprehensible, but in a voice that didn’t seem to be hers.

Anthony screamed as the saliva rose to his ankles, but saw a shadow fall over him. He turned back to Grace just in time for her tongue to smash into him, pinning him against the wall. His scream of fear became one of pain as she wasted no time, dragging her tongue up the wall, carrying Anthony with it. He felt his bare back being shredded by the coarse ceramics behind him, even as Grace’s tongue seemed to hold him fast.

Although it seemed to be endless, Anthony was aware that Grace’s tongue kept him pressed to the wall as she climbed to her feet, the brick wall somehow almost matching her in height. As Anthony’s body was pulled up to the top of the wall, Grace’s lips sucked him in, his head and shoulders in her mouth, his hips and legs outside kicking furiously, and futily. Her following laugh, delighted, sadistic, and satisfied, was an all-enveloping sensation. Anthony’s ears rang with the sound, his bones shook with, and his skin as buffeted by the breath coming from Grace’s lungs. Anthony tried to push back against her teeth, tried to find purchase against her tongue as she tilted her head back.

“Tony…” Came that ethereal voice again from deep in the dark hole of Grace’s throat open in front of him. 

Grace’s lips pulled him in further, up to his waist. He screamed in protest, now thrashing about as wildly as he could manage. Anything to prevent being pulled further into Grace’s salivating mouth.

“Tony…” The voice was now everywhere, in Anthony’s skin, in his flesh, in his bones, even in his brain. He felt that he could hear that voice with the nerves behind his eyes.

“No!” He called out once, but it didn’t stop Grace from sucking him into her mouth. He didn’t have long to consider his claustrophobia inducing, soaking wet, and miserably hot environs, as Grace’s tongue rolled him to the back of her mouth and swallowed.

The world became a free fall, as though from a great height, into a pool of liquid.

Cold liquid.

“Tony!” Emily shouted.

Anthony sputtered in the flow of water. 

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! We've got work to do, and I'm not going to let you fuck up my point total!" Emily declared.

The water that Anthony landed in came into focus as the aquarium's water trough, the brick wall that had ravaged his back became the carpeted flooring, and although Grace was nowhere to be found, Emily was giantess enough, standing over him from where she had drug him from the bed and thrown him into the artificial stream.

Anthony climbed to his hands and knees in the water flow, thankful that it was subdued enough that even at his size he wasn't in danger of being washed down toward the grate that separated the aquarium from the outside world where the water flowed out.

"What time is it?" Anthony asked. Even as he did, he regretted the question. The hours and minutes of the day didn't matter to Anthony any longer. He wouldn't ever be late to work again. There was no schedule to keep except that which Grace, and to a lesser extent, Emily, set.

"Time for you to rinse off and get ready. She's doing something with the cameras, and took a little woman with her, so we're probably on deck." Emily answered.

As his vision cleared from both the dream and the blur of sleep, Anthony was beset by a host of pains and aches. All of the abuse from the previous day came flooding back into his muscles, joints, and bones. Every time his neck had been tweaked in Emily's thighs, every time Grace's toes had attempted to crush the life out of him, every time Grace's fingers has threatened to squeeze him to a pulp, and every other chilling violence that had befell him rushed back into his body, the water only exacerbating the aches.

"Hurry and wash up, I want to be ready and waiting when she's done." Emily instructed.

"Since when did you become her fucking enforcer?" Anthony asked sullenly. He resented Emily, but he was more angry with himself as before he even realized it, he was complying with the order, scrubbing his scalp with his fingers and his skin with his palms.

Emily responded by gently, for her, delivering a heel-kick to Anthony, knocking him over into the falling water. It didn’t really hurt Anthony, and Anthony had run out of ability to fight back hours, and many bodily fluids ago.

“Since you decided to fuck around on the one person on the planet equally empowered to both help me and fuck me over at this exact moment.” She said. “You’d probably be able to clean up faster if you stopped getting kicked and started rising.”

Anthony wasn’t in the mood to argue, as dismal as his current circumstances were, the water felt indescribably good, even as it’s chill seeped into the small abrasions and over his bruises. It wasn’t a warm shower, or even a hot tub, but it was something. Anthony continued to brush the water through his hair, and let the artificial fall wash away the residual sweat and fatigue. Even though Emily was standing over him, some nude warden enforcing an imagined time limit, Anthony’s size made the stream more than enough to almost feel like a luxury.

The silence hung in the air. Even as Anthony was busied with washing up, he wanted something to distract from being watched from on high.

“Uh… she’s not eating that woman you mentioned is she?” Anthony asked.

“Not from what I saw, we don’t have the best view of the tabletop here. I don’t think she eats all of her playthings.” Emily said, squatting down on her haunches. “But maybe it’s best that you and I not encourage that in her.”

“I’m not trying to! You could help, you know!” Anthony protested. “You could fight back!”

A look of almost pity crossed Emily’s face. “You don’t get it do you?” She asked. “Even though she couldn’t swallow me whole, like she definitely could with you, she could still bite me in half.” Emily reached out and picked Anthony back up to his feet. “And even if you don’t come up to my pussy, that doesn’t mean that I’m taller than her foot is long. I know you had a hard time in that slipper, she wasn’t hesitant about describing what she was doing to you in there, but don’t forget Tony, she put me in the other slipper, and it’s not like I could get out.”

Emily stood back up, walking over to one of the pieces of foam that counted as furniture. The largest piece almost made for a just-too-small-bench or couch for Emily. Anthony followed and struggled to climb up on the same piece.

“Look Tony, the sooner you stop fucking up the easier this is going to be for both of us. It’s not like we were going to be able go to the movies after this shit anyway. We’d be locked up inside a cage either at a federal community or at a private residence. In either case we’d be basically a pet until an inevitable accident.” Emily outlined.

“But…!” Anthony started.

“No, Tony. I’ve read about this. A huge fatality rate among shrunken people. Fell from heights, stepped on, eaten by their own pets, fuck, Tony, we’re lucky neither of us had tooth fillings, or piercings. You know that shit doesn’t shrink with you, right? And those are just the accidental deaths. You think she’s only one making money off this? Getting off on this?”

Anthony looked over to where Grace was sitting, at the table, facing her cameras. Grace’s hand was between her legs, and she was clearly enjoying herself. The woman Emily mentioned was nowhere to be seen. Only Grace, masturbating in her chair.

“Tony!” Emily shouted, bringing him back to the giantess in the aquarium with him, rather than the one who put him there. “Look, I need you to get your shit together. Even if you don’t want to be here, even if you can’t wrap your head around this, if she’s pissed off, it puts me in a bad spot.” Emily outlined. “Don’t think I won’t leave you behind if it’s going to keep me alive and, relatively, happy. Oh, shit, get up, she’s wrapping up.”

Sure enough, just as Emily said, Grace was walking over toward the bank of aquariums. Grace was wearing what appeared to be only a t-shirt, oversized enough to fall past her thighs and well worn, with holes in places that spoke to its age and use. It was difficult to tell if she wore anything else. In one hand she held a limp miniature worman. Anthony caught a glimpse of the woman she held between her fingers, clearly unconscious and dripping wet. When Grace made the short journey, she replaced the woman in a different tank before addressing Emily and Anthony.

“Good morning, you two. I hope you’re well rested, because today we’re going to go through a number of different trials.” Grace said, tapping on the glass with her french manicured nail. “Tony, this is your chance to earn some real points.”

She said little more as she opened up the top of the aquarium and reached in. The dream was still fresh in his mind, and the thought of climbing into this woman’s giant hand was alarming, but Emily had already maneuvered into place, and Anthony was more afraid of earning Grace’s ire. So he worked himself into her offered fingers.

The rocket ship ride up was likewise still horrifying. Anthony wasn’t sure he’d ever acclimate to the way the world fell away with inhuman alacrity, and he felt the need to fall to his hands and knees for stability. Thankfully the journey from the tank back to the table was brief.

Once again, Emily managed a relatively dignified dismount, Anthony’s was less so, but he managed to remain on his feet this time. The table didn’t look any different from the last time they’d been set to task on it, except there were more lights set up, and more cameras it seemed, although it was difficult to see through the crisp white lighting.

“So here’s your new task. Since you seemed to enjoy the first task so much, and I’ve decided to let you try a cooperative task, we’ll try something in the same vein. You both need to orgasm, just one time each, but there’s a couple of stipulations.” Grace took her place as before, a chair positioned at the table with a good view and easy access to it. “First, neither of you can touch yourself. If your hands touch your own junk, you both fail, and I’ll deduct points from the offending party. This is a partnered task, so you’ll have to get each other off. Second, there will be a time limit. Ten minutes. As always, you’re not allowed to kill or really hurt each other.” Grace leaned back in the chair, crossing a leg over the other. "This will also be a test run for your on camera potential." She said, idly kicking the elevated leg. "You'll be recorded, from multiple angles, for later editing and sale. I know my clientele enjoys interactions between my toys, and I think the possibilities with you two are pretty exciting."

Grace reached back behind her and pulled a large tub and a small, white cosmetics jar from beyond Anthony's point of view and set them on the table. Anthony had to readjust to the jar, which was far smaller than the tub, in Grace's hand the thing seemed tiny, but of course, sitting on the table between Emily and himself, it was much larger. Grace quickly unscrewed the cap to the cosmetics jar and set the cap aside.

"As much fun as you two had using my spit as lube, I figured we should save that for the really well paying customers. Today you'll have the added benefit of coconut oil."

Anthony walked up to the cosmetics jar, it was almost as tall as he was, and he had to stand on his toes to peer in. The opaque white substance inside had the potent coconut smell, and the dull luster of plant fat in its solid state.

Lost a bit in awe at how much coconut oil seemed to be in front of him, Anthony only became aware of Emily standing over him from behind when she reached over him and scooped up a handful of the pliable muck.

Anthony craned his neck back as Emily's looming form spread the solidified oil over her shoulders and down her arms, her body heat liquifying it as she worked, forming a brilliant sheen over her skin as she went. Emily's hand dug back into the jar, pulling a truly prodigious quantity of oil out, her hand, still coated in the stuff dripping onto Anthony's upturned face. He watched, mesmerized, as Emily worked the oil over her opposite shoulder, and down her arm.

"Hey now, save some of that for the camera." Grace said.

Anthony was startled to hear how close her voice was, and jolted out of his trance, he was equally shocked to see Grace's head, resting on her folded hands, down on the table for a better view.

"Sorry, just how often do you get to play around with this much coconut?" Emily asked, still amused at the oil dripping from every surface. "I wonder what it would feel like to bathe in this stuff!"

"Don't get me wrong, I want you to slather it on, you and Tony, but wait until we're filming." Grace answered. "And that 'bathing in oil' idea is fucking golden, I'm going to make use of that."

Anthony couldn't really place the expression that came over Grace next. A mixture of delight and a revelatory euphoria. She laughed and clapped her hands excitedly. The speed at which she moved, at which she shifted her mood from the authoritarian to the elated, both alarmed Anthony and sent him falling backward into Emily's slick form, then to the table top.

"Oh! I just had a great idea!" Grace exclaimed. She reached up toward the lights illuminating the table and pulled back down from those heights a camera. It looked to Anthony like one of those small action oriented cameras and was mounted to a flexible tripod. Grace set the camera down, fiddled with its elevation, tilt, and position before turning it on. She unscrewed the larger tub of coconut oil, many times Anthony in mass, even large enough to be taller than Emily. Grace stuck her fingers into the thick oil and scooped a prodigious amount.

With her other hand, Grace reached out and picked up Emily, who, seeing her hand coming, raised her own arms to make picking her up easier. Grace moved Emily into close up view of the camera she had set up, and set about showcasing Emily for the camera, rotating Emily around in her grip. Grace made sure that the camera caught clear video of Emily's feet, legs, ass, hips, tits and her face. Emily, for her part, smiled and waved to the camera, kicking her legs playfully, and shaking her chest when appropriate.

Grace then slowly brought the hand with a thick coating of coconut oil into the camera's view. She spread her fingers, showing the viscous goo split and stretch between her fingers. Grace then rubbed her fingers together, catching the oil between and causing it to melt against her skin. As she did, the oil ran everywhere, coating her hand and dripping wet to the table. So much of it had melted against Grace's skin and under the harsh lighting that it had pooled near Anthony.

Grace's fingers, three of them, still dripping with oil, moved to Emily, who was now held in Grace's open hand. The fingers found Emily's exposed stomach and began slowly working the oil into Emily's skin. Emily moaned in response. The fingers worked in steady circles, expanding out and spreading the oil around. The tips of Grace's french manicured nails slipped under Emily's breasts, then the tips of her fingers over them. Emily responded by holding onto the digits as they explored her. Grace's fingers were firm and moved up to Emily's neck, squeezing just enough to turn Emily's moans into groans. Then those fingers slid back down, running through Emily's cleavage, over her abdomen, slowing with lascivious intent as they approached Emily's mons.

Before they reached Emily’s sex, however, Grace’s fingers, her whole hand, retreated. Emily made sounds like a pleading whimper. The activity was getting fun and she was clearly disappointed to see it paused. She didn’t wait long, as Grace scooped another more-than-way-too-much helping of solidified coconut oil. This time she held it over Emily’s body in her hand and closed her hand around the oil. Grace’s body head did the rest, the dull goop turned liquid in her grip and began to fall onto Emily. At first it was a few drops, a small chunk of unmelted oil occasionally fell from her hand, but it soon turned into a deluge of thick, fragrant flow of coconut lipids. Emily began to rub in on herself, her hands and arms rolling waves of the stuff up her and over her breasts as the stream continued to pour over her.

Anthony stared transfixed as the flow of oil slowed, but never really stopped. Grace's fingers descended again on Emily, this time going straight for her crotch. Grace's fingers wedged themselves between Emily's legs, and pushed them apart.  Grace's middle finger began rubbing over Emily's sex and back up her stomach. The longest digit probed deep between Emily's legs, even reaching under Emily before rubbing back up the way it came. Emily wrapped her arms around the wrist of the bold finger, not only stabilizing herself but also pulling it closer encouraging Grace to work harder, faster, deeper.

Grace didn't oblige her however, instead her hand pulled away. Emily's arms still clutched at her wrist, but the oil allowed Grace to slip out of her embrace effortlessly.

"I cannot wait to explore this innovative use of skin care products much further." Grace said. She brushed her fingers down Emily's whole body, lingering at her still spread legs. "But we will have ample opportunity to find out just how pliant my fingers can make you, and you don't want to be already spent before your challenge would you?"

Emily didn't respond, she was breathing too hard from the sensations of the most intense oil massage she'd ever received, combined with the unprecedented feeling of a finger comparable to her own leg sliding back and forth between her thighs. Her entire body heaved with her breath and even from where she was in Grace's hand, Anthony could see her body flushing with heat..

"Here." Grace said, gently returning Emily to the table. "The cameras are running, make sure that absolutely every little bit of you is coated in this stuff."

Emily slid from Grace's hand, landing adroitly, but failing to keep her footing in the slippery pool that had formed. She didn't waste any time however in rubbing more of it over the few places that hadn't been coated already, realizing very quickly there was an easier, more efficient way, and tossing herself into the pooled oil, rolling about.

“Well, Tony, I think I did half of your job for you. Are you ready for your dose of oil?” Grace asked, extending her hand, palm up toward Anthony.

Anthony had been naked for the better part of the last seventy two hours, even before shrinking, and he’d been under Grace’s bare foot, under all of Emily, and between Emily’s legs, but he was suddenly, keenly aware of his raging erection. Watching Grace nearly get Emily off with a display of oil and deft manual manipulation had left Anthony breathing almost as hard as Emily. There was no question he wanted that kind of ministration.

Unfortunately, his first step toward Grace’s offered palm was less than graceful. He’d been standing idle, watching the show with rapt attention, and had only been half aware of the spreading pond of liquid coconut oil spreading ankle deep around him. His first step forward found no purchase on the extremely well lubricated tabletop and sent him tumbling into the oil.

Anthony couldn’t recall if he’d ever been in a swamp, or in quicksand, but he did remember an occasion of mudwrestling once. That had been more dignified than his attempts to right himself in the oil. After face-planting into the still-warm soup, Anthony slipped again, splattering oil everywhere and eliciting laughter from Grace, giggling from Emily, and shame to start burning in his cheeks.

A few moments of hopeless thrashing, flailing, and flinging of oil everywhere later, Grace’s hand moved toward Anthony, offering him a reprieve from his futile fight to climb to his feet, or even crawl. 

“Come on, Tony…” She mocked. “We don’t have all day.”

Anthony still had difficulty, but with Grace providing assistance, and her other hand moving a finger under him, he was able to climb into Grace’s hand, like a drowning man into a boat, and lay himself out in her palm, panting with the exertion, his dick still erect, and pointed skyward. Anthony prepared himself for what was sure to be the first good experience he’d had in the past few days, and also the first voluntary act he’d been a part of since his abduction.

The world didn’t fall away from him as quickly or as far away as it had before, as Grace didn’t bring him up to her level. Her hand slid him to the center of her palm as it rose. Instead, Grace’s hand presented him to the camera. Anthony looked up at the camera for a moment before a shadow came over him. Anthony had a brief moment to consider what was happening as Grace’s other palm moved into position over him, still dripping with oil from before and also with a lump of relatively fresh, and quickly liquifying, semisolid oil from the tub. Anthony panicked, and started trying to escape out from between Grace’s palms, but had even less success than he’d had trying to climb into her grasp. Just before the shadow became darkness, Anthony heard Grace’s laughter ring out again.

Grace’s palms came together, sandwiching Anthony in between them, with a thick, pungent slime coating everything. Anthony could briefly heard the oil squirt from between Grace’ hands as she squished her palms together, seemingly heedless of Anthony himself, but the only thing he could after was a cacophonous combination of his own screams, Grace’s pulse, and the squelching sound of the coconut oil being pressed and pulled by Grace’s hands as she worked Anthony’s body between her hands, although piercing through even the sloppy sounds of oil being compressed into and all around him, Grace’s laughter still could be heard.

Grace rolled Anthony around in her closed palms, the only solid in a sea of slime. She applied just enough pressure to slide him up and down in her grasp, back and forth, up and down. She would squeeze him to form a seal, then pull it apart, letting the vacuum and suction pull Anthony against gravity and sticking him to her skin before smashing her palms together again and repeating it. All of it was accompanied by the humiliating fact that Anthony’s dick hadn’t calmed down, instead, it was harder than ever, sliding over Grace’s palms rewarding the disobedient organ with a pleasurable slide along warm and willing surfaces.

All the while, Anthony fought. He pushed against her palms when he could, even though his own hands never found purchase. He failed and thrashed around, although her grip quickly reduced all those struggles to constrained spasms. If he'd been given time to consider it, he might not have wasted so much of his energy trying to fight against a woman who's pinky outclassed him for "overall length, but the claustrophobia inducing sight of her palm, dripping with ooze, filling his vision, and descending on him had triggered a primal desperation that no amount of reason could penetrate.

Anthony wasn’t sure which way was up when Grace opened her palms back up.

“Well, it looks like Tony enjoyed it.” Grace said. She tilted her palm, and Anthony slid, as though his whole world was plant-based lubricant, from her palm back to the muck on the table. Grace had apparently lowered him down to the table level and he didn’t so much fall as slip from palm-to-table without any real fall.

"I hope he didn't bust a nut in there." Grace said, sniffing her at her palms. "Actually, I don't know if I could tell, even without the oil."

Her fingers then came down to Anthony, who lacked the strength to even react, much less avoid them. The nail of Grace's index gently probed Anthony's still erect penis, with a practiced gentleness that could only come from years of expertise and experience in handling shrunken people.

"No, he looks like he's still good to go." Grace observed. "Good, I was worried he might have fucked up the task before we even started."

Grace's hand pulled away, leaving Anthony, his chest still heaving and trying to regain control of his breath and his heart rate to soak in the pool of oil.

"Okay, like I said, you have ten minutes. Each of you must cum, and no touching your own junk. You can start…"

Anthony saw Grace's arm move overhead. Something in him knew she was turning on more cameras. His ordeal in her grip had merely been the pregame, the warm-up, the appetizer. Anthony could hear the sucking, plopping, and sucking, plopping sounds of something moving in the oil, but couldn't lift his head to identify the approaching noise. Grace's palms had only been the opening act. He raised his head to see Emily, moving on her hands and knees toward him, her eyes locked on to him with fervent, lust crazed purpose. The main act was about to begin.

"Emily, no, don't do this…" Anthony protested. He wasn't even really sure what he was trying to avoid. He didn't know what Emily had planned, and he suddenly no longer cared about the points, he'd just been almost literally wrung out and couldn't comprehend much, other than laying in the oil until it resolidified around him.

"Now!" Grace commanded.

A modicum of energy came back to him, and he found his legs kicking, trying to push him away from Emily's advances. But the oil proved as slick as ever, and he made no progress.

Emily, by stark contrast, seemed to have mastered the art of navigating the slick. Her advance on Anthony was slow, but it was also steady and it seemed implackable. Every millimeter she closed between them was accompanied by the squelching sound of her hand dropping into the muck and then sucking it back out as she took her next motion. A wake of oil spread behind her legs as she dragged them through the heavy liquid.

“Don’t fuckin’ do this now, Tony. We’ve got a job to do, and I haven’t had the opportunity to really relieve stress since we got here.” Emily shouted at him.

Emily’s hand shot out and caught Anthony by the ankle. In a surprise, more surprising to Emily, but still shocking to Anthony, he managed to kick free of her hand. Hope welled in Anthony. For the first time, he’d done something, he’d had agency, he’d managed to avoid someone else grabbing him, or pulling him, squishing, crushing, poking, prodding, kicking, or squeezing him.

Anthony’s elation was short lived, however, as Emily’s hand came again, this time securing a better grip on Anthony’s ankle and dragging him back toward her. Emily’s other hand caught Anthony’s free ankle and assisted in dragging him to her. To Anthony it felt like he was being pulled in by some great predator, caught at the end of a slimy frog’s tongue, even though that made little sense to him after it crossed his mind.

Emily didn’t bother standing to her feet, but she did have enough leverage to lift Anthony up, still by the ankles, where he hung limp. Too much had happened, and the only part of him that was willing to put in any effort was jutting out from his crotch, pointed at Emily.

“Well, hello there. It’s good to see you still look forward to my blowjobs, Tony. I wouldn’t want to make this any more difficult than it had to be.”

Emily lifted Anthony up, granting him a brief view of her shiny, oil drenched form from the reflection off her pubic hair, to the almost mirror-like sheen of her skin. The tour stopped with his vision just above her belly button, as she aligned his crotch with her head.

Emily wasted no time, bringing Anthony’s erect penis into her mouth, still holding him upside down by his ankles. As his dick disappeared into her mouth, his whole body slapped against hers, sending a spray of oil as they collided and leaving him stuck where he hung between her breasts, down to her stomach.

Anthony groaned as Emily skipped any foreplay, immediately going for broke and sucking his entire member, along with his testicles into her mouth. When he felt his ankles slipping in her grip, one hand let an ankle go, and that arm wrapped around the small of his back. With him better secured, her hand released his other ankle, and now free of the duty of holding his ankle, that hand clutched his skull and held it against her.

Meanwhile her tongue ran all over his dick. Emily rolled her head to allow the tongue to snake up over, or under to Anthony, his shaft and began to play with his balls as well. Even having been forced to orgasm from her fellatio less than twenty four hours ago, this was a new kind of assault. Emily had never been shy about her blowjobs, but being three times his size, and motivated by her own lust, as well as the threat of potentially losing points had driven her to new heights of grim determination.

“Emily, stop…” Anthony cried as she pressed him harder to her oily body. Her forearm across his lumbar pulling him deeper against her so she had easier access to his junk, and her hand clutching at his cranium was not gentle by anyone’s estimation.

Even with the discomfort of being upside down, of having his back nearly broken in a one-armed bear hug, and his skull nearly crushed in Emily’s hand, Anthony could feel the pleasurable pressure building at the base of his spine, made all the worse by the dizzying sensation of too much blood flowing into his compressed skull.

“No…” he muttered meekly, as Emily’s violent suction on his penis yielded the intended results. For the second time, Emily pulled her lips from his genitalia, freeing his balls and then his penis before turning to Grace, opening her mouth and showing off Anthony’s seed, still on her tongue. She closed her mouth and swallowed audibly.

She didn't release him, instead, keeping him tightly clutched against her skin, Emily slid Anthony down toward her pussy. As he slid over her abdomen, Emily made sure to keep his face pressed into her, whether deliberately or just trying to prevent him from accidentally slipping out of her grip, Anthony couldn't tell.

"Okay, Tony, time to put in the work. You've never let me down before, let's see if shrinking hurt or improved your game." Emily said as she slid Anthony down toward her crotch.

In a world of new and confusing experiences, the sensation of being slipped between Emily's thighs, his head being tucked under into her crotch, and his face pressed into her nethers was unquestionably one of the weirdest. She wasn't flexing any of her muscles, so it was like slipping between two trunks of soft-yet-hard trees.

"Don't hold back, Tony." She prompted.  Her words were muffled, equally by the oil and her own thighs, but Anthony could hear well enough. "This is your chance to show me that you're going to be a part of the solution and not part of the problem."

Anthony's reflexes took over and his tongue found its way into Emily's labia, even as the oil flooded down around his own lips. The sensation was all at once familiar and alien. He'd been face down between Emily's legs plenty of times before, and a couple of times, under it, but Emily had been shorter, thinner, and less than dozens of times his mass. And this time, Emily was pressing him into her sex. Not simply guiding him with her hands on his head as she liked to do when he went down on her, but with one hand, forcing Anthony's face deep into her labia.

His efforts were rewarded with a satisfied moan from Emily, muffled and distant, but still audible. There was a weird sense of normalcy in giving Emily head. Even though they were both dripping with oil, even though he was hanging upside down, and even though it was Emily holding him there, this at least felt like something he knew, and didn't immediately evoke feelings of terror and dread.

What little comfort or familiarity there was quickly melted away, however, as Anthony realized he couldn't breathe. Emily's firm grip on his head prevented him from coming "up" for air, and he began to squirm in her arms, trying to get loose. His writhing only caused Emily to clench tighter, securing him to her, but it did apparently have the effect of reminding Emily that Anthony needed to breathe and she pulled him out of her crotch.

"Tony this is awesome!" She exclaimed through heavy breaths. "I can't wait to see what we can do once we get used to this." Without waiting for Anthony to respond, she plunged his head back between her legs, deeper into her sex.

This time there was no steady increase of pressure, or gentle exploration of his face's topography with her vagina. This time, Emily had a goal, and a good idea of how to achieve it. Anthony's face was dragged up and down Emily's pussy, his jaw, lips, mouth, nose, and face providing the texture and contours she needed to get herself off.

If the oil still flowing down her body wasn't enough, Anthony tasted new fluids as she used his face as a warm vibrator. Emily's sweat and grool mixed with the coconut to create a potent cocktail.

To Anthony's only comfort, the ever increasing pace and fervor that drove Emily to drive his face into her pussy, and her irresistible rolling of his head around for added texture, allowed him the occasional breath, and he could hear the building crescendo in Emily's voice.

"Tony, don't keep me waiting." A powerful moan, and a shudder rocked her body, sending tremors through Anthony as well. "We've… oh God… we've only got a couple of minutes left."

As if she was only just reminded of their time limit, Emily began rolling her hips back and forth, allowing her to thrust Anthony's head deeper and farther along her crotch. She also picked up the speed, sliding Anthony's face over her labia and clit with a kind of crazed frenzy. Anthony's world was a blur of fluids and flesh and hair. Emily seemed to care less and less with each thrust of her hips for Anthony’s shrunken anatomy, and each time his face ran over her pussy, his neck pulled further and further out of comfort and into pain.

He heard Emily's building scream as she tucked his head under her crotch once more, pressing his face deep into her pussy, and her thighs clamped down tightly around his skull. The vice grip of Emily's thighs and her hand still almost crushing his cranium while shoving his face into her vagina almost immediately caused Anthony to black out for an instant. The jarring sensation of Emily slipping in the oil and falling to her side woke him up, but the crushing pressure from Emily's legs, hand and pussy only slightly subsided, instead crushed and slightly relaxed in cycles as Emily rode out a powerful orgasm.

Just as he was sure suffocation or the mind numbing pressure from her thighs would be the end of him, Emily's legs relaxed, if only slightly, from around Anthony's head. Emily used the time to, almost gently, continue rubbing his face over her privates.

"Fuck, Tony. That was awesome. I want to try that when I'm not racing the clock. I think your face might be better than my muscle massager." Emilly continued to massage her swollen sex with Anthony’s face. Allowing him just enough space to breath, he occasionally let out a groan as the rolling of his head over Emily’s pussy pulled at his already strained neck. She still hadn’t let his head free from between her legs, and in addition to the pain in his skull and neck, everything was suffused with the intense, insulated heat of being stuck to a woman three times his size with oil, sweat and sex.

“Very good.” Grace said, clapping slowly to show her approval. “I think that earns both of you the full two points.”

“Thank you!” She said enthusiastically. Emily peeled her thighs off of Anthony’s face and pushed him away before she stood up. “Tony really gave it his all this time! I think he can really turn it around!”

Anthony lay in the oil and bodily fluids, he groaned when he realized his most recent humiliation had only earned him two points. Still, some part of him recognized he’d tripled his points in one task.

“It might take a bit to clean up the table, but I think I got some really good scenes there. I can’t be sure until I’ve got it edited and published, but I think you two are going to work out just fine. Still, we’ve got a lot of time left today. Give me a moment to prep the next task and we’ll see how eager Tony really is.” Grace said, before reaching up to switch off one of the camera’s.

Before the red light from the camera disappeared, Anthony caught a glimpse of Grace’s face as she leaned over the table to turn off the camera. Something in her smile, and in her words, sent a shudder through Anthony’s entire body, and he wondered in dread what she could be planning next.