Cold… fuh… fucking c-cold…
My head… Where am I? Daylight? Traffic…
Oh, no. No no no. Freda! Where are you?
My temperature’s going down. This is bad. Arms, legs stiffening. Shit. Shelter, need to find some place safe. Grass, building… pipes. Wires.
Christ, the grass is wet… shivering… Lucky there’s no one around. Why is there no one around? Cars driving, no peds. Dew on the grass. Keep moving, think about anything else. Getting closer to the pipes.
What the hell was I wrapped up in?
What happened to me…
We were… partying. Big party last night. Another big party, yes, Tana’s house. Party after party after party. Body feels like shit, head’s pounding, wondering if I should puke. Just to get rid of whatever’s inside me. It’s just going to sit there until I process it. Should get rid of it.
Why all those fucking parties? What was I doing?
Freda. Those videos, my Parkour videos. Took off, went viral. Sparked a revolution, hundreds of tiny little guys figuring out how to climb up walls, throwing themselves off refrigerators, sprinting through tool chests and art studios. Impressive, all these Anthropoles finally getting a chance to play. Highly in demand, pet stores ran out of supply, increase in poachers and then a reactionary crack-down on poachers. Everyone learned what §220.5 stood for, during that time.
Because everyone wanted in on the Tiny Parkour craze. Should I feel guilty about that? My videos took off. I wasn’t nearly as innovative as what came after me, but everyone acknowledged me the leader. There was talk of branding and merchandise, but that’s insane. The whole fucking point of it was to train Tinies to cope with their natural or found environments, not build a, injection-molded, mass-produced goddamn Hot Wheels stunt arena. Which they did, because of course they would. So we divided into the purists and those commercial fucking whores, taking up sponsorships, making appearances, and always upping the ante.
That blew up in their faces, goddamn sellouts. Run up a ramp, balance on a velvet-flocked beam, leap for a string, climb to the top of an Erector set, and then jump. Except you’re surrounded by three Normies, drunk and laughing at you, mouths wide open. End of the road. Whole new breed of viral videos, whole new wildfire trend, whole new legal dragnet.
People tried to pin that on me. The only thing that protected me was the very same purist position they stuck me with and ridiculed me for. Everyone knew I was about survival. When I decried those horrifying frat party videos, it stuck. No one had shit to say.
Meanwhile, my own success, my own outrageous success did me in. Freda’s parties to celebrate my viral success. Shavonne’s parties because she’s a starfucker. And then Tana comes out of nowhere, all broken up about… Let me just say, a Tiny catching a giantess on the rebound is not pretty. And then there’s her parties, so much booze and fucking, Shavonne’s in and out, Freda’s nowhere to be found, and then Lianne shows up.
C____ warned everyone to keep me away from Lianne. Whatever else she’s done with her life, wherever in the world she’s fucked off to, she told everyone to keep us as far apart as possible. But Tana invites her to a party and Shavonne lets her stay.
Where did Freda go? She just got quieter and more distant. “I don’t like all these parties,” she said. “I’m just not a party girl, I guess.”
I agreed. “I don’t like them either. It’s too easy for Normies to lose control when they’re drinking and snorting shit.”
“They’re doing drugs?”
“Someone Tana brought drew up a couple lines of coke, tried to get me to do it.” I shook my head hard. “I’d blow up, like feeding Alka-Seltzer to a seagull.”
“That’s an urban legend.”
“My point is, don’t leave me, Freda. I don’t like these parties either. Why don’t you let me stay with you this weekend? You know I won’t get in the way.”
Her arms flopped to her sides. “I just don’t want the dogs to find you. I’d be devastated if they hopped up on a table and got you.”
“I’d be pretty torn up, too.”
She laughed, then winced. “These parties are for you, Danny.” Her nickname for me. Normies love fixing Tinies’ names for them. “You should enjoy this moment! Everyone’s in love with Tiny Parkour now, it’s a great time for you. And they just want to celebrate with you. Isn’t that good?”
Freda wouldn’t listen to me. I argued, begged, cajoled, but she hid behind her dogs as an excuse, to avoid admitting how jealous she felt about the attention C____’s other friends were lavishing on me. I tried to tell her how much I valued her as a friend, remind her of everything we’d been through together, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said any of those hot women at all those parties would be thrilled to own me.
“I don’t want to be owned! Freda! You’re the only one who treats me like a real person!”
She thanked me for my kind words and got up. We’d been sitting on Tana’s king-size bed, trying to make ourselves heard over the roar of yet another fucking party in the living room. I watched her hips rise and spin away, watched her raise one hand to waggle her fingers at me. Supposed to be a playful gesture, but Freda packed so much mournfulness into it. I screamed at her, telling her to rescue me, but she’d opened the door and the cacophony flooded in. She mouthed I’m sorry at me, stared, abruptly turned away and slipped out of the room.
She mouthed I’m sorry at me and slipped out of the room.
I’ve never wanted to be huge as badly as at that moment, for no other reason than to slap that fucking false I’m sorry out of her face. So much drama, such a fucking martyr. I fumed and stormed the length of the bed for a while, swearing, ineffectually punching the blanket, working myself up to tears when I heard the explosion of noise once more and looked up.
“Tana, I’m not in the mood to be sat on once again.” She loved this, slipping her pants down and showing off her ass at me. Sitting on me, bouncing on me, pinching me in her cheeks and taking me away. It was horrifying, and then it was hot, and then it was cute, and then it was just tired.
But it was Lianne who closed the door, eyes locked on me like a serpent as she slowly crossed the room. “Look who we have here. Man of the hour. Hero of the Little People.” She gave me a slow clap, one wiry, tanned calf swinging before the other, toned thighs shifting beneath a clingy, red sheath dress. She could have been a beautiful woman, but I believed her relentless hatred aged her unnaturally, contorted her into a morbid parody of a person. Like a demon who had all the correct parts but still managed to get it wrong.
I backed up on the bed, wishing for a pile of coats to scurry under, but the weather was too warm here for that. Soon her coppery thighs nudged the edge of the bed, knocking me off my feet. There was no point in running because there was nowhere I could go that her taloned hand couldn’t stab out like a python and seize me. I stared up the long, sheer cliff face of her red dress, crowned by those lean, artistic features now smirking with spite.
“Like what you see, you perverted little asshole?” She balled up her fists, as much as her nails would allow, and planted them on her hips. “Look at you. You’re about to die, and all you can think about is getting up my skirt.”
“Furthest thing from my mind, honestly.”
“Don’t lie!” She pounded the bed, fists on either side of me. I bounced off it, nearly bumping against her face as she crouched. “You’re all the same, big or small! You all think with your dicks! Got your brains between your legs! What makes you think I’d want anything to do with you?”
“Your breath stinks of whiskey, and not the good kind,” I yelled up at her, not breaking eye contact. “You’re pretty sloshed. How about you take a nap here and I go back out and−”
Lianne knelt beside the bed, resting her grinning face upon crossed forearms. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you. Crawling all over an unconscious woman. Jacking off into my mouth, squirming into my pussy. Dream come true for you, huh? Well, you know what, you little prick?” Her demonic head lifted from her arms and floated toward me. “That’s rape. You’re a little rapist. You can’t tie me up or punch me, but make no mistake: when you grope and rub yourself all over an unconscious woman, you’re fucking raping her. Did you know that? I bet you never even thought of that.” In the dim light of this bedroom, her teeth nonetheless shone within her cruel sneer. “You fucking disgust me, you little pervert. I should teach you a lesson.” One arm unfolded and her claws splayed.
“I haven’t done anything!” I screamed, struggling to rise. “I’ve never even met you!” I watched her hand, hovering around her head like a helicopter.
“I know your kind,” she hissed. Her weasel-like eyes smiled to see my body stiff with terror. She let her grabbing hand drift from side to side, just to enjoy my head turning to monitor it. “All you men are disgusting, at any size. It’s just that you don’t have the physical force to make women do what you want, so you have to lie and manipulate your way into a woman’s underwear. And I know, oh, I know how convincing you can be, with your little cries of please don’t put me there and you’re hurting me. You’d fool any idiot into thinking you really feel pain.” She retracted her hand and stretched up, leaning her belly against the edge of the bed and nearly lowering her chest upon me. “But I know. I know what you little fucks are, with your lies and your feigned weakness and your perverted lusts. Tana tells us all about it.”
Goddamn it! Tana wasn’t too bright to begin with, but sometimes she was completely clueless. No doubt she went bragging to her girlfriends about her escapades with me, going into as much detail as she’d had wine to drink. All the while, she had to make herself sound like a victim of her own passions, like she was helpless to her own lusts, maybe even shocked and surprised by them. Lianne, of course, would interpret this to be a tearful confession of having been ravaged by predatorial Tinies, and there was no use in me attempting to explain the nuance to her.
“Yes! She tells us how you can’t keep away from her butt, all the things you like to do to her butt.” She rested her elbows around me. Her body weight drove them into deep pits, I had to struggle not to slide into them. “Getting squeezed in her butt. Crawling into her asshole.”
“I never−” The outburst came before I could swallow it.
“Liar!” Her jaws unhinged to scream at me, a hot, wet cavern just overhead. “You love it! She tells us everything! What the fuck is men’s fascination with women’s assholes? Don’t you know that’s where the shit comes out?” She glared at me, then settled back down. Her otherwise lovely head wobbled. “I guess that’s Freudian. Men are always trying to return to the womb, and you little pieces of shit are trying to go back home, too.” That set off a fit of cackling laughter. The mattress quaked beneath me, and I lay there spread-eagled, trying to ride it out and not slip against her arm. Her hair shuddered and spilled all around me, and her mouth kept gaping and bellowing, lunging at me, gasping for air, and coming back at me with more raucous, ugly hilarity. I wanted to cover my ears but couldn’t relinquish my hold on the blanket, so I just turned my head away from the boozy gusts and spray of spittle and waited.
I couldn’t believe no one else was coming in here. Even if they couldn’t hear Lianne freaking out at me over the party noise, someone should be sneaking in here for a quick fuck or something. Tana should miss her guest and go looking for her. Freda… Goddess damn you, Freda. I could just picture her, standing off to the side, hands covering her mouth while she watched Lianne scream at me, bite me in half, while she shook her head and apologized uselessly.
When Lianne settled down, it didn’t look hopeful. She grinned at me, directly overhead like a low ceiling of thunder clouds. “You know what? Okay.” She had decided something in her head, and now I was receiving the benefit of it. Crazy bitch. “If you want this so bad, then fine. Why not? I’ll fuck you.”
“What? No!” I stared at her, incredulous, as her long arms pushed that huge body off the bed and she rose like a building demolition in reverse. Her clingy dress was wrinkled and riding up her thighs. I saw the doorway between her legs, and I saw her pubes silhouetted against it. Do women typically leave their underwear at home for girls’ night out?
“But I’ll tell you this.” Her arms twisted over her head as she grabbed opposite sleeves and tugged. The red dress hissed over her writhing body, fighting her as it rose. “It’s gonna be exactly what I want. I’m the boss, you hear? I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want. You’re gonna do exactly what I say. In fact,” she paused, yanking the garment overhead and letting it drop. She was completely nude. Lianne had shown up for Tana’s party literally wearing nothing but a slinky dress and stilettos. What the fuck.
“In fact, you’re not even a person. You never were, but now you’re not an animal or anything.” She ran her palms up her sides and thumbed her perky little nipples. “You’re a device… a toy. You’re my little fucktoy, and that’s it. How do you like that? Actually, who gives a flying fuck what you think.” She smiled at me, her body drifted forward, and she lifted one leg upon the bed. Her knee drove into the mattress like a meteorite, and I rolled over the blanket and collapsed against it. I flailed, trying to twist and grab some fabric, but she hauled her other long, lean leg up and fell to her side, letting her massive body bounce and heave upon the beleaguered bed springs.
I cried out and dug my fingers into the blanket, anchoring myself as my body was tossed briefly. No sooner had I settled than her wiry hand wrapped around me and yanked me away. The dark ceiling and walls spun crazily, then were replaced with vast tan, smooth cylinders of perfect flesh. My nostrils were stunned with suntan lotion, a floral perfume, and the sour tang of…
Lianne laughed and mashed my head and shoulders into the folds of her vulva. She wasn’t even trying to insert me, just jamming me into her crotch over and over. Her fingers pinned my arms to my sides, sparing me the struggle of reflexively protecting my head and getting them snapped to splinters. It was alternating moments of creamy inner thigh, then losing all sight and hearing to her pussy; a streak of blanket, then darkness; a glimpse of meaty folks of pink and tan skin, then darkness. Bursts of drunken guffawing throughout.
Buffeted as I was against the fleshy entrance to her hips, doing what I could to keep my neck from snapping, I have no idea what changed. Abruptly the tempo slowed, and Lianne went from stabbing herself with me to painting herself. The cooling folds of her pussy snapped and dragged over my face, then the back of my head. And then they regained their heat. And then the top of my head was damp.
“Lianne, please don’t do this,” I shouted. My voice was weak even to me, as it bounced off her loins. “Please, get some water. Let’s talk about this.”
The gigantic, angry woman was no longer responding, or speaking to me anyway. My heart sank to hear a deep and throaty moan, far off in the distance. The moan was cut off by loud slurping as her lips parted. Hot, silky tissues glided over my cheeks and gummy fluid crept into my ears and nose and eyes. Goddess damn it, that stung.
I screamed for her some more, begging her to stop, but that was stupid of me. This drunk giantess had turned on a dime. Who knows, maybe she was mad at herself for being into tiny men? There were women like that, men too. All their anger at us was them chastising themselves, Anthropoles knew this. Didn’t change anything when they had you in their clutches, though.
Lianne opened her hand and slapped me against her pussy. I saw it coming, I turned my head and spread myself out to distribute the impact, but it knocked the wind out of me. Now I hung there, plastered against her vulva, gasping for breath and scrabbling for two fistfuls of scraggly pubes. She hadn’t bothered to undress me, so my shirt was sodden with her juices as she brushed me over her lips, and now my pants were getting soaked. And it’s not like water, where you can just let your body heat evaporate it and it’s gone. It’s a giant woman’s copious lubrication, and it gets sticky as it dries, and your clothes cling to you, and then they get stiff and funky. Though I knew I’d be lucky if I lived long enough to get to that state.
The broad palm of her hand pressed me into the softer folds of her labia, holding me there for a moment, before she dragged me up and down the length of her entrance again. I turned my head and gulped for breath whenever her kinky hairs scraped my face. I was entirely blinded and partially deafened, and all my concerns were reduced to keeping my ribs intact and getting enough air. It was much easier now, actually, as the giantess’ hand couldn’t grind me hard enough into her pliant, rubbery vulva, and her lubrication was flowing freer every minute. I just had to ride this out, it seemed.
“I’m sorry.” Lianne’s voice was choked up. I wasn’t even sure what she’d said, over the roar of the party, until she repeated it.
I had no idea what was going on, now. I tried to gather enough air to yell back It’s all right, though I was very far from all right. First things first: placate the giant, drunk, horny woman. But I couldn’t reply, with goop coating my face and preventing me from getting a lungful of air without, like, swallowing her juices. There was too much, I wasn’t familiar with her flavor or aroma, it was too thick—there was every reason why I didn’t want the biological product of this horrible woman inside me.
“Oh my Goddess, oh, my fucking Goddess,” she cried. There, that made sense. The massive hand dragged me faster and faster, pushing harder. I misspoke earlier: while she couldn’t squish me against her labia, her pubic bone could easily crush my head if she weren’t careful. And she wasn’t being careful. I tried to jerk my head back and leverage my elbows to dig into her flesh, with every upstroke, to fight for a little space between my nose and her bone.
“Oh, yeah, fuck me.” Lianne’s voice became angrier, but not louder. “Oh, fuck me. Oh, get in there.” I hadn’t time to swear before her middle and ring fingers sucker-punched my calves, and in a second my legs disappeared inside her. “Oh, shit yes!” I spread out my arms to keep from being swallowed whole. My hands sank into the wrinkled folds of flesh, not coming up against anything solid. I gritted my teeth, waiting for the thumb to crank my head and stuff me inside her hungry pussy, but it never came. Her fingers became agitated, rubbing over my ass and legs vigorously, but I never went in any further. She was stabbing her pussy with her own fingers, leaving me halfway in. All I had to do was keep my legs clear of those huge, violent fingers. Once again I knotted my fingers in her pubic hair and tried to pull myself up, if not out.
“Oh yeah, oh yeah,” she gasped, stuffing herself faster and harder. If my ankle slipped between her knuckles now, she could easily snap it in several places, or tear it off entirely. My mind was perversely filled with the thought of my severed leg floating around her cervix, how difficult that would be to retrieve. “Oh, my Goddess, yeah, keep doing what you’re doing.”
I rubbed the goop off on my shoulder to more appropriately glare in disbelief. I wasn’t doing anything! I was just trying to survive. Maybe I accidentally kicked inside her? Holding my chest close against her clit, I very carefully tried kicking my legs inside her pussy. She was clenching at me, but nowhere near tight enough to crush or even hold me. It was just an alarming side-effect, in contrast with the hot, smooth tissues my legs swam within. She swore some more and agreed with that, so I employed it as a stalling tactic to figure things out. Escape was unlikely right now: even if I could slide myself out of her, I’d likely fall into her hand and either get stuffed into her cunt and drown or get mangled by her huge, stupid fingers. Growling, I gave her pubes a hard yank and kept scissor-kicking inside her vulva.
“So close,” Lianne gasped. “So close. Keep it up or I’ll fucking…” She inhaled deeply and whined, a long, tight whine from way down in her throat. I got mad at myself for how attractive that sounded. “Ooh, oooh, oh no. Oh, ho, ho, no… not now…”
My eyes widened. Something was happening. I wished I had any way to crawl over her mons and creep up her belly, for no other reason than to peer at her expression and figure out what was up. Instead, I breathed as hard as I could and kicked as hard as I could and kept half an eye on those massive, thrusting digits just below me.
“Hey… little fucker…” I responded and she couldn’t hear it, but she went on. “Kiss me. I wanna feel your lips on me.”
“Where?” I screamed, futilely.
She guffawed, a throaty, raspy growl. “Suck my clit, asshole. Make me feel lit.”
I grimaced and held position, kicking feverishly away until the pad of her thumb nestled upon my neck and shoulders. This was a promise, not a threat, to crush my skull against her pubic bone and I knew it. I screamed okay, okay and it didn’t matter that she couldn’t hear it, because she let off the pressure and I nuzzled my jaws into her clitoral hood, shoving it aside. In the dim light the pink bean nontheless glowed with vitality and eagerness, and I swore and closed my eyes and sucked it into my mouth.
I used to do this with C____. We experimented with it for a few nights, seeing how much I could stuff into my mouth without gagging or hurting myself. There was a lot of laughter, some hurt feelings and discussion, but I learned to do it. Then it was a matter of not biting, learning how to wiggle my tongue, learning how to make my mouth pulse with suction. I felt ridiculous, thrusting my head onto her clit like a… well, it was a degrading thought, to start with. Like a small, young woman trying to take a horse cock into her mouth, something like that. That was the first image that popped into my mind, and it was hard to shake. But eventually it became an act of love, a reliable performance I could share with C____ toward the end of our lovemaking, to make sure she got her cookie. I was proud of my skill. I wondered if other Tiny men had learned to do something similar… and many times… when I saw other women, I wondered what it would be like to do on them. I imagined their voices, the noises they might make, the way their cunts would flutter and clutch at me as I gnawed on their clit, proud to show off my prowess.
Now I was doing it for Lianne, and it was anything but an act of love. Instead of a sensual organ in my mouth, it was a knot of dense tissues and raw nerves. Instead of trying to evoke a pretty chorus of squeaks and squeals, I was laboring against being brutally murdered. And instead of trying it out on Tana, just to shut her up, or even Freda because… because I was starting to… now I was doing it on the bitterest man-hater I’d ever met, the one person C____ had begged her friends to preserve me from. Well, they all fucking failed. Here I was, waist-deep in Lianne’s pussy, gagging on her throbbing clit and trying to create pleasure in the middle of all this hatred and fear.
She kept calling up to her Goddess. I must’ve been doing something right. She yelled yes, yes and evoked her Goddess. Her butt raised off the blanket and crashed back down. Her hips rolled and carried me roughly around. Her thighs clamped and spread and tensed and slammed shut again. And her hand glistened and slurped and practically vibrated, shooting back and forth inside her. I don’t know how she wasn’t cramping. Maybe those muscles were well-developed on her.
“Oh Goddess, Daddy…”
I was so surprised, my head jerked back. My jaws throbbed, once they were no longer overstuffed with the angry giantess’ clitoris, but her thumb nudged me back into position.
This was getting fucked up. Lianne fucked herself harder and harder, and all I was permitted to do was suckle her clit and massage the area with my little fists.
“Daddy, oh, my Goddess… I’m so sorry…”
“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” Lianne began sobbing. Her hand never stopped working at her pussy, but now her body was shaking. “Oh, my Goddess, so close… Daddy, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to… oh, my fucking Goddess… Daddy, watch out, watch out OH MY GODDESS I’M SO SORRY” Her voice tightened into a squeal, and her hand plunged once and held there. All up my ankles, calves, knees, thighs, and hips, her pussy shivered and constricted around me. My body shook with her orgasm. Fluids gooshed and spilled over my sides. Her palm folded down and clasped my body against her clit, and I rode her trembling body as she cried and cried.
I had no idea what this meant, but it was something messed up, I knew that. Most people are complex like an onion, layers upon layers, but Lianne’s outer layers were nastiness and her inner layers got more fucked up. I wanted to be out of her so badly, as though her corruption were a disease that could seep into the cellular wall of my own body.
Abruptly we were up. Her pussy squeezed me as she sat up on the bed, and then she sprang to her feet. I was left dangling out of her pussy—probably glued into place as her juices dried—and I watched her bare feet skitter over Tana’s bedroom carpet. She swiped her dress with one hand, and for some reason her heels were lying by the door. She must’ve taken them off for the party, maybe? But now I heard drawers sliding open and slamming shut.
“Here.” Lianne’s breath was ragged. “This should hold you.”
One of her legs disappeared, and for a moment I could see more of the bedroom. And then it was gone as she stepped into a pair of blue panties. I watched her little feet (proportionally, of course) wriggle into the leg holes, and then the blue stretchy fabric raced up her legs and hammocked me against her pussy.
“No! No, dammit! Let me out!” I tried to seize a hem of the underwear and pull it aside, but my legs could hardly churn within Lianne’s canal, adhered to the closing walls of tissues.
“You keep kicking, and we’ll have a second round.” Her sarcasm fell flat. Her tone was wounded. What the fuck was going on? There was no way for me to tell, as my world was reduced to blue stretchy underwear on my back, mashing me into her clit and pubes and all that business. I felt her legs thundering around me, I heard her heels strike the hardwood floor outside. I thought I heard a glass bottle sliding on a table, and then Lianne started yelling about another party.
Despite being lodged within a woman’s orifice and pressed against her pubic hairs, my blood chilled. Where were we going now?
Tana whined the same thing, wanting to know why Lianne was leaving. I heard other voices, mostly women, saying goodbye and making these whining, descending noises of disappointment. Lianne made some kind of excuse and asked about Shavonne; according to Tana, she was passed out on the couch. Laughter. Footsteps. Cold night air on my back, even as my kidnapper’s inner thighs trembled around me.
Car door opened. Lianne’s full weight piled upon me and clenched me from all sides. Car door slammed. Engine fired up. I hated my helplessness, being taken away so easily without anyone knowing. Unable to get away, a cold car seat digging into my shoulders as this crazy giantess sat on me.
That part, at least, changed. All of Lianne’s bulk heaved to the side, and then those nightmarish fingernails scratched at her crotch, tugged her underwear aside and pinched my chest. Yanking me out must’ve hurt her as much as it did me, but I can only guess. I found myself lying cold and weak upon her passenger seat.
The engine growled all around me, and something buzzed on the radio. “Drink up, little buddy,” Lianne said. I looked up at my tormentor, a skyscraper of hate and sexuality, leering at me. Her elbows rested on the steering wheel as she struggled to pour a capful of something brown and glistening. Probably that shitty whiskey she’s apparently addicted to. She smiled, reaching down to pass my booze to me, then frowning as she realized I couldn’t possibly hold it myself. “Fine, then,” she muttered, scooping me up in one hand and nursing me with the whiskey cap. “Fucking hassle. I’m gonna make you pay for all of this, though.”
I didn’t want to drink, I really didn’t. At the beginning of the night, anyway. At this point, however, I had a lot of images and sensations to boil out of my brain, so you better believe I went to town on that capful of shitty whiskey. There was no way I could hold it all, of course, but Lianne saw me attempt it and even cheered. She cheered me on, and for a moment she looked genuinely pleased, not in any malicious way. The moment passed as she swore about Tana’s underwear, which apparently were a little bigger than she liked, and she struggled with the steering wheel and her stiletto heels around the brake and accelerator to wrangle the garment off her legs. She hoisted the blue panties between her thumb and forefinger, regarding them and looking at me. Biting her lip, she jabbed the clothing up her skirt, then dumped it upon me with a barking laugh.
It stank like her crotch, but then so did I. And then it stank like shitty whiskey as she poured what I couldn’t finish upon me. I was too exhausted to even swear. I just lay there, defeated, tired of being scared, as the booze slowly dissolved the crust of Lianne’s vasocongestion all over my body.
The engine roared into life, and the panties and I slid to the back of the seat as we roared down the street. There were turns, there was some braking, and the panties above me glowed and darkened with the passage of street lights.
There were turns and braking, and Tana’s panties glowed and darkened with the passage of street lights.
For a while we navigated in silence, except for Lianne’s occasional disapproval of the other drivers. Then she turned on the radio and cranked it up, singing to where her CD picked up. Then her lyrics turned from whatever they should have been into “I’ve got you now, I’ve got you now little fucker.” That made me sufficiently curious to claw at the crotch of Tana’s underwear and haul it aside.
I looked up at Lianne from a flattering angle: just a little armpit showed as one strong arm clamped onto the wheel. Her breasts, firm and small, jostled hardly at all but rose and fell as she cast her head back and belted out lyrics, both true and improvised. Her hair danced in the street lights and her lips glistened. I even admired how her strong throat worked, gulping the chilly night air and converting it into powerful chords and harmonies. The girl had some pipes on her, and then I knew I was drunk.
Her narrow slit of an eye peered at me over her shoulder, and her lips pulled back in a knife-like grin. “You’re awake! Guess where we’re going, buddy?” I yelled back at her, but it was impossible to hear me over the engine and the stereo. Swearing, she punched the CD off, shifted into a high enough gear to quiet the engine, and snatched me off the seat. Her fist carried me up to her mane of hair and one huge ear with a heavy ring of gold hanging in the lobe.
I screamed so hard my throat felt like it was shredding. “Please, Lianne, just turn around and drop me off with Tana again. You don’t even have to go inside. Slip me through the mail slot and I’ll find my way from there.”
“Fuck that, little buddy. Your life as you know it is over! Know why?” She yanked me away and gripped the wheel with the hand that clutched me. “You’re coming home with me. I got another one of you perverted little fuckers, and I’m going to teach you a lesson. You’ll be a lesson for the others.” The car canted and pitched, to me, as she gently turned the wheel. She wasn’t even looking at me as she said this. “I have this little graveyard, except it’s not graves. All these little guys like you are impaled in it. Crucified, impaled… do you know what a ‘blood eagle’ is?” Colored lights spun around her incisors as she smiled. “Those vikings were fucking savage. Anyway, that’s where all my little guys end up, and you’re gonna be begging for that before I’m done with you. Did you like tonight?” She licked her lips and glanced at me. “Did you like fucking me, you little rapist? What’s it like to have a big, strong woman in charge? You didn’t like that, huh?”
I yelled something at her, and she moved me back up to her ear. “What happened to your father?”
For a moment, everything was still. The engine purred in the background, the radio was off, and I can only trust that we hurtled through the darkness, seeing nothing but the grove of Lianne’s hair spreading around me and her ear. Then she squeezed me until I saw stars, dumped me onto the passenger seat, and wadded me up in the cummy, boozy panties.
“You fuck, you little fuck.” Cold air blasted into the vehicle just as it was warming up. “You fucking little fuck.” Her fist seized me in the panties, and suddenly I was out of the car. I heard her curse her Goddess as the engine receded and someone honked, far in the distance. All that, while I sailed through the air, nothing but Tana’s stolen underwear to protect me.
I curled up on the sidewalk, clutching the fabric jealously, foul and stained though it was. I had to preserve my heat in the night air, and I’d probably fucked that up with how much I had to drink. Walking was impossible, my legs were stunned from the evening’s exertions and the whiskey didn’t help. All I could do was cocoon myself in underwear and hope that no one would find it funny to kick me aside or stomp on me.
They didn’t, but at some point in the morning I was waken up by sprinklers. Fortunately I passed out again. Apparently.
One thought on “Alone Again, 1”
Lianne is the most vintage GTS story character I’ve seen in your stuff so far, in a way that makes me a little nostalgic; a man-hating woman taking out psychological baggage on a little guy is one of the most beloved stock figures in this fetish, she’s in there with Il Dottore and Arlecchino.
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