"I've got great news, my little snacks. I have here a letter and a package from one of you! Let's read the letter first!" Grace waved the sheaf in front of the camera.

Anthony was still too exhausted to move, but that didn't stop Grace.

“Today I’ve got two new helpers, both of them too cute to dispose of at the moment, who are going to help me read this letter for you, and see what’s in this very nice box.” Grace looked down at where the pair of them still lay in a pond of oil, her French tips tapping in rhythm on the rather mundane cardboard box.

"'Dearest Carnation, I'm sending you this letter because I just got out of a bad marriage.' Oh, darling, I'm sorry to hear that!"

Anthony wanted to get up and run, he wanted to at least crawl away, but there was no energy left in his limbs.

“‘My husband of only seven months, although we’d been dating for two years, caught the virus. He shrunk to a cute fifty five millimeters in height, and was placed in my care. I should say here, that since our marriage, he’d been less and less the man I cared about, and more a distant creep. Actually, looking back on it, he was never the man I thought he was, I was too willing to look passed his behavior.’

Grace casually tossed a page away, moving onto the next with the ease of a practiced performer. She wasn’t just reading this, she was giving her paying fans a show, making sure they were invested in the story too.

"'I'd had enough. I don't know what inspired me, but I snatched him up, ran to the hallway closet, I got out this canning jar I'd used to catch fireflies, I put him in the jar, screwed the lid on tight, shoved it into the back of the closet, between the towels, and shut the closet door.' I love it! I love it so much! You absolutely rock, putting him in his place like that!"

Grace looked down at where Emily and Anthony were recovering from earlier in the oil.

"Before I forget, like I said earlier, I’ve got two helpers here that are going to assist me for this video. You all know how I like to keep myself entertained while reading.”

She addressed Emily directly.

“Grab ahold of him, and hold on to him tight, I’m going to need you both for this next part.” Grace ordered Emily.

Anthony was sure he heard Emily acknowledge Grace, but between his exhaustion and the layer of slimy oil coating everything, he couldn’t be sure. What he was aware of was the sensation of being pulled up into a sitting position. Emily sat down behind him, her legs extending out well beyond his on either side before her arms wrapped around his chest, under his own. She pulled him tightly into her embrace, his head coming to rest between her breasts.

“Very good, now, on with the letter; 'I remember that it was something to do with his car. We needed to refer to some work order he'd had done prior to shrinking, so I finally got access to his computer. He'd always kept it password protected from me, hell, he wouldn't even let me sit in fucking fancy high backed office chair. But I respected that he had boundaries. Besides, who cares if he watches porn, right? Well, there we were, I was seated at his desk, in his fancy office chair, with him in front of the keyboard, when he tells me not to open his email.' Oh no, baby, you do not let that little shit tell you what to do."

Grace plucked Emily up from where she sat on the table, Anthony coming with her. Grace held them in a peculiar manner, peculiar at least, to Anthony. Emily was almost cradled in Grace’s palm, her legs down by Grace’s fingers, her head nearer the heel of Grace’s palm. Emily separated Grace’s palm and Anthony. Anthony began to connect the dots when he saw where Grace’s hand was taking them.

"'After everything, he gives me an order, a command not to open his email. So, I did. I wanted to show him that I didn't even need to put him in the closet, that he couldn't boss me around. He fought me over it, can you believe it? He tried to physically fight me over it, like trying to stop my fingers from clicking the mouse! Of course, even pulling with all his might he couldn't budge my fingers on the mouse.’ Oh. My. God. That is too funny! I wish I could’ve seen him!”

Grace lowered Emily, and Anthony with her, down under the table, where her legs were spreading. Where she sat her oversized, well too worn band t-shirt, sporting the faded skull of some canine that predated humanity, only fell down on her thighs. Sitting, it failed to cover her ass, haunches, or the majority of her thighs.

Those thighs moved like implacable machines, spreading wide and revealing Grace’s modestly groomed bush, and her pussy below it. The chair she sat on was already darkened with some of her earlier activities, and her pussy itself was glistened in anticipation. Anthony began to squirm in Emily’s arms as he realized what she intended.

“Would you cut it the fuck out?” Emily demanded, reasserting her grip on Anthony. “You had to know this was coming eventually.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re not likely to get lost in there! Fuck, not even inside her, just in her fucking pubes! You can’t let her do this!” Anthony pleaded.

“Yeah, because I can stop this. Get ready for a shitty three-way, Tony, this is happening.” Emily said flatly as Grace pressed them into her crotch.

“‘And there they were; dozens of emails between my husband and at least four other women. Each one talking about how much they wanted his dick, how much fun they had, what they wanted to try next time. Basically, right up until he shrunk, going back before I knew him, he'd always had side pieces. I was furious, I'd never been so mad. I don't think he knows how close I was to squishing him then and there. Instead, I scooped him up, placed him in the jar, and set him in the closet for a whole day.’ Good on you, baby! I love that method of punishment!”

Grace’s recitation of the letter became harder to hear as she pressed Emily, and Anthony between them, into her sex. Anthony found himself on a circular journey, starting at the peak of her pussy, kneaded into her clitoral hood, and then down one side of her labia, only to be dragged back up the other side to revisit her clit.

Anthony was vaguely aware of Emily’s grunts, even though she wasn’t the one being directly ground into Grace’s sex, she was caught between it and Grace’s hand. Still, she held onto Anthony firmly, and Anthony was left, futily, trying to push himself away from Grace, unaware that all his hands did was stimulate Grace even further, a pair of micro massagers over her most sensitive areas.

As her palm and fingers cradled Emily, rubbing the both of them over her lips and her clit, Anthony came to a humiliating epiphany. It dawned on him that he wasn’t even being used as a dildo. He was too small to Grace for that. No, as Grace pulled Emily up and down her pussy, it became apparent that Emily was serving as Grace’s living dildo. Anthony was just a featured texture on that dildo.

Grace’s middle two fingers pushed between Emily’s legs and between Anthony’s as her hand pressed the two of them into her sex. The coconut oil coating the pair let Grace’s fingers slip in and out with remarkable ease, but she kept her hand heavy against Emily’s back, and Emily’s whole body sandwiched Anthony against Grace’s pussy.

"'After that, our relationship changed considerably…'" Grace continued to read, enjoying the self stimulation. "My husband was still an asshole, but I didn't have any problem disciplining him for his bad behavior.'".

Grace wasn't content with letting Anthony and Emily simply be a warm sensation against her pussy, she clearly had a purpose for them. As Grace's fingers plunged deeper inside herself, her hand pulled Emily, and Anthony with her, up and down her labia with increased fervor.

"'Don't get me wrong, he didn't improve much, but I knew that if he tried to gaslight me, or put me down, any time he’d try to fuck with me, or get out of line. The jar and the hallway closet were right there.’ Oh, honey, that is fucking awesome. I hope he spent weeks in that closet.” Grace said. Although Anthony had other things keeping his focus, he couldn’t help but notice a change in Grace’s voice.

Anthony had almost acclimated to being rubbed up and down Grace's pussy when the world literally turned upside down around him. Emily shouted in surprise, apparently caught off guard just as Anthony had been as Grace inverted her shrunken sex toys, still pressed against her labia.

"Oh shit, she's going to…" Emily didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Grace's fingertips repositioned  behind Emily's head and before Anthony could register what was happening, Grace pushed Emily, and Anthony held tightly to her chest, down and into her vagina.

The plunge into the soaking hot hole was sudden, but Anthony was able to catch a brief breath, even as Emily squeezed tighter before all light was replaced with a sweltering darkness. Emily had been pushed deep into Grace's pussy, far enough that Anthony's entire upper torso was wrapped in the pungent sleeve.

Anthony had been face down in Grace's vagina before, but he'd never expected to be waist deep in it, at least not literally. The confines of Grace's pussy were tighter than he expected, with the exception of Emily at his back, Anthony's world was an oppressive, living coffin that threatened to swallow him further.

Although it felt like minutes, Grace pulled Emily back out almost immediately. Emily gasped a breath that Anthony failed to in the brief moment they were free from their captor's vagina, being dragged back up toward her clit the whole time.

Grace gave them no chance to recover from the rollercoaster of her self pleasure. Anthony screamed obligingly as he and Emily were pushed back down, and back in, immediately. Emily, held by Grace, kept Anthony in her arms as they plummeted back toward Grace’s vagina. He’d been rubbed up and down the folds of Grace’s pussy for minutes already, but this time she pressed Emily, and thus Anthony, harder than ever before against her as he was plunged down and back into Grace.

This time Anthony felt himself go deeper still, Grace having already worked herself passed the point of foreplay. His scream outside cost him almost immediately as his mouth filled with Grace’s freely flowing fluids. His lungs followed suit, leaving Anthony coughing as he was carried entirely into Grace’s pussy.

Emily seemed to be faring better, although it was difficult for Anthony to perceive much as Grace’s lust coated him, blurring his vision. He thought he heard Emily scream, but inside Grace, the only thing he could be sure of were the squelching sounds of their bodies being swallowed by Grace’s pussy, Grace’s own pulse, pounding through, and his own coughing.

Again, without pause, Emily and Anthony were pulled out of Grace and dragged back up her lips.

“Breathe, Tony!” Emily screamed at him, before sucking down her own air.

Anthony managed to catch enough of her shout to obey. Even though he had only a moment to hack up Grace’s fluids and hold on to a breath, he succeeded as they reached the apex of Grace’s stroking. Anthony hated that the sensation of being pulled over Grace’s clit was his best point of orientation, but it marked the drop back down that followed.

The plummet back toward Grace’s vagina seemed faster this time, more hurried, and even though Anthony had been buried passed his feet the last time, this time it felt like he was pushed even deeper, that the walls of Grace’s pussy squeezed him tighter, that the deluge of her sex penetrated into his senses even more.

As Grace pulled them back out, it became apparent to Anthony, even in his disoriented state, that he was completely at the mercy of Grace’s libido. If he wanted to breathe, he would need to do it on Grace’s terms. She gave no pause for his needs, nor Emilys, as she drove them in and out of herself.

Anthony’s understanding of his situation became one of necessity, hold his breath until he could feel the relative chill of the world outside Grace’s pussy, take as deep a breath as the thick layer of Grace’s juices would allow him without inhaling the stuff into his lungs, and then brace for the next plunge back into Grace’s crushing, hot, wet confines.

There was no truly acclimating to the up and down, the in and out, the hot and cold, and squeeze and release cycle that Grace inflicted on him, but after a few minutes, Anthony at least felt that he’d adapted well enough to keep himself alive when Emily’s grip failed.

Throughout the entire process, Emily had kept Anthony clutched tightly to her own chest, his head between her breasts, her arms crossed over him to secure him. But Grace’s building speed and fervor, combined with what remained of the coconut oil, Grace’s own lubricant, and the increasing intensity of Grace’s pussy trying to keep them in each time they were pulled out, seemed to have weakened Emily’s grip on Anthony’s tiny body.

The first sign of something wrong came as Grace pulled them out for the umpteenth time. Grace had pushed the pair as deep as they’d ever gone into her and jerked them back toward the outside world when Anthony slipped from Emily’s embrace. Suddenly Emily’s arms were no longer secured just under his arms, and slid down to his waist as his body slid up against hers. As they were brought out into the relative cool and bright exterior between Grace’s thighs Anthony found himself screaming.

“Don’t let go!” He pleaded to Emily behind him.

“Hold on, Tony!” She replied.

Anthony didn’t have time to ask her what she expected Anthony to hold on to. Grace’s vagina was slick and speeding passed as Grace sent them back down. There were no features once they had been shoved back inside Grace, save for the crushing walls over her pussy.

Emily’s embrace failed entirely, and Anthony felt her arms slide all the way down his body as Grace drew her back out. For the briefest instant, as Emily’s body was pulled back out, a bit of light came passed her and Anthony could see, however poorly, Emily’s arms trying to catch some part of him. Anthony watched as her hands caught his ankle, and slipped off immediately, Grace’s flesh closing behind her and sealing Anthony alone into a dark world of living flesh that threatened to down him, suffocate him, crush him, and cook him all at once.

There was no seeing once alone inside Grace, Anthony’s senses were limited to the sounds, smells, and tastes. All Anthony could perceive was dominated by Grace. He heard her blood pumping, and the constant squelching of her quivering pussy. His nostrils and mouth, flooding with her sex threatened to overload him in the crushing darkness.

Time didn’t matter to Anthony inside Grace, only the burning in his lungs building into an inferno as the darkness threatened to consume him. Almost instinctively, Anthony tried to curl up, there was no defending against Grace’s walls kneading him from every side, nor from her drowning deluge, but Anthony had other recourse.

The sudden burst of additional activity came, in reality, less than a second later, as Emily was pushed back into Grace’s vagina. This time she clutched and pulled at Anthony in a flurry of activity. Anthony felt her hands grip and then slip, grip and slip, half a dozen times in the blink of an eye that she reached the depths of Grace’s thrust. Emily’s body shot passed Anthony’s and despite the sensation of a giant being shoved by him, Anthony was grateful to be reminded he hadn’t been left to be drowned, asphyxiated, or crushed by Grace’s hungry pussy.

Emily’s retreat from the hot prison was just as sudden as her entrance, but on the way back, her attempts to secure Anthony yielded a modicum of a result. Her hands caught Anthony’s hips and as she was pulled out managed to stay in contact with Anthony as she was pulled free. Before her hands slipped off him entirely again, her grip on his ankle managed to pull him toward the outside world.

The world went hot and dark again. The pressure seemed to increase. The heat seemed to grow. The fluids seemed to flow heavier and heavier. Anthony tried to focus on anything other than pressure, other than the heat, other than the wet, and other than his dwindling supply of oxygen.

With an explosion of light and motion, Emily reappeared. Anthony couldn't make sense of direction anymore, but he could tell Emily came from below him. This time, Emily seemed better prepared. Her arms flew out in the fleshy morass enveloping them both. Her arms secured Anthony as she seemed to fly by him. One arm went under his left, and the other, over his right, reestablishing her grasp from before they separated.

With astonishing speed they finished the push into Grace and were pulled back out.

Up Grace's labia, over her clit, back down and into her vagina, again and again and again. Anthony had no equilibrium, no peace as he never recovered from being trapped inside Grace, instead he fought to maintain consciousness as Grace continued to use them faster and faster.

Even with the regular, ever shorter stints outside Grace's pussy, Antony was failing to maintain breathing effectively. The pace of Grace’s masturbation was reaching a level that prevented Anthony from making any sense of his surroundings, or even catching a breath.

Suddenly, there was no chill following the oppressive heat. The heat and squeezing pressure became everything and intensified beyond what Anthony could bear. For a brief moment he blacked out, the walls of Grace’s pussy crushing the air and sense from him in a powerful, seizing climax. His almost immediate return to consciousness wasn’t filled with any relief, the world around him still threatened to crush him, and he suspected only Emily’s arms prevented it from actually happening.

Grace’s orgasm lasted just under a couple of minutes. Some small part of Anthony recollected the way Grace’s jaw would clench as she came and an even smaller part wondered if she’d be able to continue reading the letter in the midst of the orgasm. Every other part of him was sure this would be the end. Nothing had compared to slick, nearly solid with clenching force, walls of Grace’s vagina, and the torrent of thick discharge somehow flowing around his and Emily’s body.

When Grace’s pussy finally relaxed, it almost immediately clamped down on the pair again, and then relaxed, and seized again, each time weakening, as Grace rode out the aftershocks. Anthony lost count of the number of times Grace’s pussy had attempted to squeeze the life out of them by the time he felt Emily, and through her embrace, himself, being pulled from Grace. Grace took her time, gently, delicately extracting the two, and cradling them in her hand as she brought them back up above the table top.

Grace dumped Emily and Anthony, still entwined in Emily’s embrace, back to the table top. She sucked the fluid from her middle two fingers before turning back to the letter. Both Anthony and Emily were soaked in Grace's juices, as Anthony had been enveloped completely inside her, and only Emily's legs below the knees had been spared.

Anthony wanted nothing more than to pass out, even as he coughed up the liquid that had flooded his lungs.  But Emily still held him against her, and although she more than tripled him in height, he could feel her own exasperated breathing with every rise and fall of her chest.

"Oh that was so good. We're nearing the end of the letter, folks. 'After that, I made it a daily routine; masturbating to your videos in my husband's prized, off-limits office chair, with him forced to watch from the keyboard. He really got quiet during your vore shows, and so I made sure those became the norm. If he got out of line, back into the punishment jar he'd go.' I'm absolutely loving the way you turned it around on that cheating fucker, babe!"

Grace casually discarded one of the sheets of the letter, leaving her with only the final page remaining.

"Oh, last page, everyone. 'But I still didn't know what to do with him. I realized that he never really cared for me, and that I couldn't care about him.' It sucks that you had to go through that, but you showed you had control over him. 'But then I thought back to your videos, and how sometimes your fans will get themselves packaged up and sent to you, and everything just clicked, so…'"

Grace picked up the box as she read the last of the letter.

“‘Please enjoy the enclosed snack.’ Oh, thank you so much, honey, I will! Let’s see what we’ve got here…” Grace finished the letter and set it aside, turning to what remained of the packaging. Her hands shredded the unassuming cardboard box and tape until she was satisfied with it's accessibility. She quickly opened the box wide and fished down for its contents.

“Oh, oh! It is just what I hoped it’d be!” Grace exclaimed. “I’ve actually had a few volunteers send themselves to me, but I think this is the first time someone has sent me…”

Grace turned the contents of the package, a stiff sheet of cardboard, toward the camera. In the center of the cardboard, spread eagle, and fixed to the cardboard at several places with what appeared to be craft pipe cleaners, struggled a single, diminutive man. In her excited hands, the sheet of cardboard jostled with joy and gleeful anticipation.

“Their cheating, shrunken husband in the mail!” She exclaimed, and squealed with glee.

Anthony could see, even from the table top, where he was pressed into Emily’s body by her embrace, that the man was disheveled, unshaven, naked, and appeared to be coming back around from unconsciousness. If he knew where he was, the bright lights illuminating him clearly made it impossible for him to make out his surroundings after being pulled from a dark shipping box. The man looked, just from the juxtaposition of Grace’s fingers from where she held the cardboard, almost as small as Anthony, if only a bit bigger.

Whatever size advantage the cheating husband may have had over Anthony didn’t matter in Grace’s hands, which flipped the cardboard back toward her and smiled at the diminutive man that had been sent to her. The tiny man clearly saw Grace for the first time, and horrified recognition spread across his face, twisting his countenance into a wordless scream. The letter had mentioned he’d been forced to watch Grace’s videos, no doubt he’d seen shrunken people like him meet their fate under Grace’s feet, inside her ass, between her breasts, in her hand, or down her throat. Grace began unwinding the wire holding the man in place. As the wire bonds loosened, the silent gaping of the tiny man’s mouth became audible as his fear overtook him.

Anthony couldn't move, both from exhaustion and Emily still holding him prisoner in her arms, so there was no turning away from the scene. Even as Grace pulled the last bonds holding the man to the cardboard and began turning him over in her hands, his flailing and screaming proving useless as she did.

Grace only considered him in her hands for a few moments, inspecting him and prodding him before pinching the man in her fingers and showing him to her cameras.

"Well, this isn't the first time someone's been sent to me, but it's a first nonetheless. I've got more than enough toys, let's give my darling pen pal what her postage bought."

Grace placed the screaming man against her lips with the tips of her fingers. She quickly pinned him at his midsection with just her index. Slowly, with practiced steadiness, Grace began to push her struggling victim deeper into those plush, crimson barriers, the tip of that obsessively manicured nail disappearing behind them as the unnamed man began to fold at his midsection between her pursed lips.

The man clawed at that french tip, trying to find some purchase to crawl out from between the lips slowly enveloping him. His pleading became more and more desperate, and less and less intelligible as he sank between her lips and into her mouth.

It seemed to take hours, but in reality only about a minute, before the only parts of the man, now pressed between Grace’s lips and her finger, still visible were his head, his hands, and his feet. The finger plunging him into her mouth stopped, and slowly slipped back out, leaving him stuck in her lips. Even though he tried with what strength he had left, Grace’s finger slid free of her lips, and his grasp.

For a moment, the world seemed still to Anthony. The man caught between Grace’s lips continued to beg, but in his exhaustion, Anthony had almost been able to tune it out. But then, Grace smiled. It was that same smile that Anthony had seen as she looked down at him before something unleashing some horrible punishment.

From deep in Grace’s throat came a very slight hum, ever so slightly, as her victim’s cries changed in intensity, becoming more of a moan. Anthony could see his head and extremities moving, not of the man’s own volition, but because his body, sealed behind Grace’s lips, was being moved. It struck Anthony that Grace was using her tongue to assault the man caught in her mouth.

That postulate was confirmed almost immediately as Grace’s tongue slithered out, leaving no room for the man to struggle, from underneath the man. Without loosening her lips, Grace snaked her tongue out and curled it up, over the now feverishly screaming man’s face.

Like a great serpent, the tongue slowly pulled the man, still screaming, back behind Grace’s lips. As the last bit of his hands and feet disappeared, following the tongue behind the now sealed tight lips, Anthony could hear the muffled screams.

Grace’s smile vanished, and her jaw and cheek moved as she pushed the man in her mouth around. For a brief moment, her lips parted, and the man’s screams became momentarily clearer, before muting again, behind those red pillows.

That game continued for the camera for some time. Every few seconds, Grace would allow just enough air in to prevent her victim from passing out, then reseal him in the suffocating wet confines of her mouth to be battered and assaulted by her tongue.

Then the game stopped, Grace opened her mouth wide, even going so far as to hook a finger at the edge of her mouth, to offer a better view to the camera. A better view of the man on her tongue, beaten and soaked in saliva.

“Please!” Anthony heard the man scream before being cut off by Grace snapping her jaw shut. She was silent, contemplative, her eyes looking up and away as her lips and jaw moved around a bit. Anthony could see faint movement in her cheek, moving toward her molars. That smile returned, those crimson lips spread in a cruel arc, and with that anime came a sound Anthony would have nightmares about for the rest of his life.

Deliberately, painfully slowly, like a trash compactor; Grace’s jaw moved. The screams, still muffled in her mouth, were joined by a new sound, one Anthony had never heard before, but was unmistakable. A sickeningly wet crunching.

Grace's lips parted, only slightly, and just for a brief moment, allowing those screams, those crunching sounds, to spill out clearer from behind her lips and teeth. Those red pillows sealed almost immediately and the screams became muted again.

The man’s screams were cut short after about the third crunch, but Grace didn’t stop. She chewed and chewed and chewed, thoroughly, as though on some particularly fibrous cut of steak.

When seconds had turned into minutes, long after the last muffled scream had been silenced, and the crunching had become a soft squishing sound, just barely audible to Anthony, Grace tilted her head back just enough for the camera to see her throat move and noisily gulped, swallowing what remained of the cheating, shrunken, chewed husband.

“Thank you so much to my fan for sending me this wonderful snack. He was delicious. Remember, if you're watching this, and you’ve recently shrunk, send me a message right away so I can set up your own one way trip to meet me. I can’t promise you won’t end up like that cheater, but hey, you might end up like these two…”

Grace picked up Emily and Anthony in one hand, showing their still dripping forms to the camera. Even in the intense light, suspended from Grace’s hand by Emily’s embrace, Anthony realized he didn’t have any more in him. The darkness at the edges of his vision began to close in. The chill of being dripping wet started to fade into the warmth of unconsciousness.

Before the darkness took him, he felt Emily’s body turned toward Grace, and he saw Grace at lip level. She smiled. Her red lips allowed her white teeth to gleam through. There was no trace of the man she’d eaten, and all Anthony could think of before he passed out was how eager that smile seemed. Eager to consume him too.