“You sure about this squirt? You’ve never been around me when I’m drunk, I could be a bit much for you to handle.” Renee cocked an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair in the rundown old room that she jokingly called a kitchen. There was a glass in front of her on the table, accompanied by several rather potent bottles of alcohol. Opposite her, on the far end of the table, was her housemate; Cora.

In normal circumstances, one housemate being concerned for another when they were both about to get plastered would be something to be shrugged off with a laugh and a wave of the hand. However, these were not normal circumstances… and while Renee and Cora certainly had the jousting rapport of perfectly suited housemates, Renee’s worry was more than justified. Given her dear friend Cora was barely three inches tall, the possibility of something going catastrophically wrong was entirely plausible… though Cora didn’t seem to think so.

“Pfft, I’ve handled more than you and lived jiggle-biscuit. Now are you going to throw down, or are you just going to admit that you’re a lightweight?” The diminutive little lady drummed her fingers challengingly on the thimble of drink that Renee had procured for her, a grin on her face as she watched with baited breath for the reply.

A toothy smile crossed Renee’s face as she popped the lid off one of the bottles of booze.

“You’re on shorty... Let’s do this.”

…

When Renee awoke, she was in a considerable amount of discomfort. Given her relative immunity to the pain of a hangover, the curvy young geek was confused until she realized that she’d fallen asleep on her old computer monitor. She should’ve thrown out the busted CRT years ago, but like much of the accumulated crap in her apartment, she could never quite get over the feeling that she could still use it for something someday. The television hummed quietly in the background, muted but still powered up, and as Renee ran a hand down her shirt she felt traces of food crumbs stuck to the fabric.

“Ugh… oh fuck me, my neck.” Rolling onto her stomach, Renee reached up with both her hands and furiously rubbed the sore spot near her shoulders. “Hey Cora, reckon you could give this thing one of your brilliant little foot-rubs?”

The question went unanswered.

“… Cora?” Opening her eyes as the gears started turning, Renee felt a pulse of adrenaline surge through her. Where was the little girl? Pulling herself groggily to her feet, Renee continued massaging her neck as she stumbled over to the bed where Cora normally slept. Empty.

“Shit… Cora??”

Trotting quickly into the kitchen, Renee cast a glance up and down the table, scattered with half-eaten chips and several puddles of spilt booze. No sign of her housemate.

“Shit shit shit… Cora?! If you can hear me, set off the emergency siren on your phone!”

Ten seconds passed without a sound.

“Crap… Okay, she’s probably fine, probably just passed out somewhere. It’s all good Renee; you didn’t accidentally murder your housemate while you were drunk.”

‘But what if you did?’ The thought began to nibble away at her subconscious. ‘How much can you remember about last night? After all, you’re so very big, and she’s so very little…’

“No… She’s careful right? I mean, if I’d gone overboard she could’ve gotten away, she’s really good at that sort of thing.”

‘But she was drinking too, remember? She might’ve been off her game… All it would’ve taken is one drunken stumble, and SPLAT, no more Cora Layne…’

The thought sent a shiver of worry down Renee’s spine. Impulsively she checked the sole of her rainbow socks, half expecting to see Cora’s helpless little body crushed into the fabric like a cockroach. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found nothing there, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“Okay Renee, think… what could’ve happened? What did you do?” She narrowed her eyes.

“… Well, this all started off with the drinking contest… should probably start with the bottles.”

Squatting down and fishing through the jumbled mass of discarded beer bottles, Renee carefully checked inside each for any sign of her dinky housemate. After seven or eight empty containers she was just about ready to call it quits, until she spotted something stuck inside one of the bottlenecks.

Reaching in with her pinkie finger and dragging it out, she felt her heart skip a beat as she recognized one of Cora's jackets, drenched with alcohol and having somehow made its way inside one of her drink bottles...

Her mind’s eye played out the image in her head; Cora, landing with a plop in the half-empty drink and splashing about madly trying to stay afloat. Had she seen her? Had she put her there herself? Had it been a total accident? She pictured the bottle as it tilted back, the liquid pouring towards her waiting mouth, lips wrapped firmly around the tip of the bottle and gulping thirstily.

The poor little thing never would've stood a chance; the suction would've been so powerful that her jacket would've been pulled from her arms as she fought to grab hold of something... and down she'd go, swallowed without a second thought and sent plummeting into the belly of her drunken housemate... never to be seen again.

Renee paused, replaying the image without any real sense of recollection. Looking down at her tummy, she poked it gingerly.

"No..." she thought to herself, "I wouldn't be so hungry if I'd eaten her alive... or would I? Not much meat on her... Gah, better keep looking."

Satisfied that Cora was nowhere to be found in the pile of discarded bottles, Renee cleared them away to the bin to make room, pausing for only a moment to make sure the tiny thing hadn’t been thrown out by accident. Turning back to face the kitchen, the geek planted her hands on her ample hips, subconsciously squeezing her plump posterior in thought as she considered the options.

“Well, hmm… there’s crackers all over the table, maybe she’s sleeping it off in the box?”

Stepping briskly over to the pantry, Renee plucked out the box of supermarket-brand biscuits and held the open flaps up to the light, peering about inside. No sign of Cora… Except…

Plucking out one of the crackers, Renee peered at the red and white object wedged into one of the air-holes, laces sprawled across the brown surface. It was definitely one of Cora’s sneakers, but no sign of its owner. Again, the thought shot across her mind.

‘You ate her.’

“No way.”

‘You totally did, you God-damn pig, probably didn’t even notice either! She was in there, trying to tear off a chunk of cracker to chow down on, and you just scooped out a handful like the fat-ass you are! You just started munching down on them without bothering with dip!’

“Yeah, maybe, but I would’ve heard her; she wouldn’t have let that slide without making a lot of noise.”

‘She was probably wedged between two of the damn biscuits! Why d’you think her shoe was stuck in the other one? Just imagine it; she was sandwiched in place, a teeny tiny piece of girl-filling between a pair of salty crackers. Poor thing probably tried to scream, but you couldn’t hear her over your heavy breathing as you shovelled more food into your fat fucking face.’

“God you’re a bitch.”

 ‘I’m not the one who chewed up my best friend like a piece of cheese and swallowed her without even realizing it.’

“But you are! You’re me!”

‘Fuck off!’ 

Renee shook her head to clear away the unwanted thoughts, snapping back to reality to realize she’d actually stuffed three crackers into her mouth while she’d been having her internal debate. Blushing slightly at the revelation, she chewed guiltily as she replaced the box of crackers, thinking where she might’ve gone next. Wherever Cora was and whatever state she was in, Renee was confident that her tiny housemate wasn’t currently being absorbed into her stomach.

She peered about the kitchen, quietly taking note of everything that could’ve been involved in a fatal accident… the blender… the frying pan… the kettle… a whole plethora of basic appliances that could result in a nightmarish end for her beloved roomie.

Idly scratching her bottom as she scanned the room, Renee sauntered past the chair she’d been sitting on, and froze in mid stride. A fleck of red had caught her eye, and with a surge of adrenaline pumping through her, she stooped down to examine it. The little smear of red was almost in the dead centre of the chair, and for a moment, the answer seemed obvious.

Cora loved playing games with Renee’s rump, always called her out on it for its size, its weight, the way she tended to accidentally knock things over when she turned around… but she’d always been in control of her wits when that happened. It wasn’t the first time that her ass and her housemate had been in close proximity; Hell, it wasn’t even the first time she’d accidentally sat on the scrawny little thing… but by the looks of it, whether it was a drunken stumble or something else entirely, this one had been too much for her.

Her eyes unfocused as she saw the scene playing out before her…

Cora, tipsy and feeling the need for being cheeky, had snuck across to Renee’s chair while she was in the bathroom or grabbing another drink. She’d be expecting what usually happened in those circumstances; Renee would walk over, spot her on the chair and give her a few choice words… Then, if she was feeling it, she’d slowly lower herself into the seat and press down carefully on the tiny lady, feeling her squirm under the flesh of her mountainous ass-cheek and continuing on with whatever she was doing…

… but that hadn’t happened this time. Renee had been too out of it to notice Cora was there, and rather than a steady, controlled descent, she’d have just drunkenly dropped her jiggling behind back into the chair like a pair of fleshy boulders. She could see the look of horrified surprise for a brief instant on Cora’s face before she was utterly flattened, crushed into an unrecognizable smear on the buttocks of her oblivious housemate… Renee had probably even bounced and shifted around for a few seconds to get comfy, Cora would’ve been pasted beyond recognition.

As she became more and more convinced of the notion however, a familiar scent reached her nostrils. Pausing in her train of thought, she leaned forward and sniffed the red splat.

“… Ketchup. Oh thank fuck, I’ve never been this happy to realize I sat in fucking Ketchup.” Renee momentarily sank to the floor in relief, sitting back on her ass and just taking the opportunity to calm herself down before resuming the search.

“Okay, think Renee, use your basic human logic: You’ve just sat in a dollop of ketchup. Your pants…” She peered down over her shoulder at the pair of shorts that strained against her round caboose, novelty letters stretched ridiculously across her cheeks. “… are not stained with ketchup, so you probably washed them. Or maybe changed them? Was I wearing these shorts before I started drinking?” She glanced down at her shirt, lips pursed in thought. “Was I wearing this shirt before I started drinking?!”

The idea breached her dizzy head.

“The shower!”

Hauling herself to her feet, Renee padded quickly across the kitchen and through the open door of the bathroom. Sure enough, the glass walls of the shower were still slick with moisture; not enough for the shower to have been recent, but within the last few hours, certainly. Not wanting to get her beloved rainbow socks wet, Renee sat down with a soft ‘whump’ on the toilet seat, making double sure that Cora wasn’t bobbing in the water below like a piece of human waste. She peeled off each sock in turn, pinching at the toe and sliding the fabric pleasantly down her legs. Once they were secure, she investigated the shower further.

She couldn’t tell if the haphazard array of soap and shampoo was as she had left it; after all, it very rarely was. However, a check in Cora’s little wall-mounted suction-tub revealed her roommates tiny rag-towel, still soaked with water. This caused a pause in Renee as the geek furrowed her brow, thinking.

“Okay… Well, she always hung out her towel to dry normally, but maybe she was a bit out of it last night. I mean, at least I know she was here, or the towel would still be folded up.”

‘The key word here being “was”. She’s not in her little bath, and you haven’t seen her anywhere else.’

“Well what’s the worst that could’ve happened?” Renee glanced down at the elevated rim of the tiled floor, in particular at the wire mesh she’d installed over the drain. “I mean, she couldn’t have been washed down the drain; insignificant as she is, she’s still too big to fit.”

‘You mean too big to fit in one piece.’

“Oh don’t start this aga-”

‘What if she fell out of her tub? What if she slipped and tumbled out and hit the floor next to those big, clumsy feet of yours?’

“It’d never happen; Cora’s way too dextrous for that.”

‘She was drunk though! She could’ve easily misjudged a step! One wrong move would be all it’d take… from either of you. She’d be lying there, stunned and broken on the floor as nightmarish pellets of rain thudded down all around her, the sound of your off-key, drunken singing ringing in her tiny ears. Then, before she could raise her voice over the running water… Squish. It’s just a step to the left and little Miss Layne is being washed away down the drain in liquid form, her meaty bits turned to paste under your heel.’

“If that were even remotely true, there’d still be some trace of her in the cracks around the drain.” Renee bent forwards to examine the entrance to the pipe, but the feeling of cold glass through her shorts gave her mind a slight jolt in a different direction.

Without moving her hips, she turned and glanced back at where her rump was making contact with the glass wall of the shower. She barely noticed when she was actively washing; sure the shower was a bit too small for her, but if she needed to bend over and get something off the floor, the heat of the water and the steam in the air kept her from being uncomfortable when her bulging buttocks were pressed against the foggy glass.

This time however, she noticed where they were tucked.

‘Right under Cora’s tub hmm? What if those wrecking-ball hips of yours were what caused her to fall out?’

“But… there’s nothing in the drain!” She double-checked to make sure, “No sign of blood in the cracks or-”

‘What about your crack hmm? Remember; little thing is absolutely fixated on your ass, she could’ve tried to jump on your rump when you put it too close?’

“Pfft, Cora is a bit of a perv but she’s not suicidal.”

‘…Those are some pretty big imprints you’re making on the glass right now.’

“How would tha-”

‘Little tipsy Cora, swaying about in her little wall-mounted tub, singing and dancing with her big, drunken housemate. Clumsy old Renee drops the soap on the floor and, naturally, bends down to pick it up, eliciting some whooping hollers from her dinky roomie.’

“…”

‘Those blubbery bags of flesh on your hips only needed to bump her bathtub once to send her tumbling out. Sure, Cora may be acrobatic, but she’s not a ninja; she can’t climb wet glass with no handholds. She slides quickly down the side of the shower towards that fat ass of yours, flailing her scrawny little limbs… the slick layer of water over both you and the glass means she can slot right into the gap between your ass and the wall. There she is, squirming like mad, drowning in a river of meaty rump.’

“…I brace against the wall to steady myself while picking up the soap, and…”

‘Pop! Like a grape in a wine barrel! You wouldn’t even notice; that much weight would liquidate even the sturdiest bits of her itty bitty body.’

Renee stood up slowly, thinking hard.

“… No, no that’s not what happened. The towel is wet, but not from being dunked in water. She definitely dried herself; she was probably just too drunk or exhausted to hang it out properly. She’s not in here. She’s not.” Renee repeated the words inside her head as she slid her socks back on, comforted by their familiarity and warmth. With her options running out, she made for the bedroom, hoping to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

Some part of her had subconsciously been hoping that Cora would just show up during her search; not because she’d found her, but simply wandering into the room and saying “Lose something nerd?” Renee wanted this entire search to be moot, but it was rapidly becoming evident that it was not likely to be. As she trotted briskly into the room, she touched a hand subconsciously to her collarbone and glanced down at her shirt. As unlikely as it was, she pulled forward the collar and peered down at her breasts, searching for Cora. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time little Miss Layne had fallen asleep in her cleavage, but she normally woke up from the sound of a single sentence.

But while it was possible that Cora had somehow been smothered between her tits, she doubted that was the case. The pint-sized powerhouse had survived hours of being sat on before, and she didn’t think that even her chest was enough to end that streak. Sure enough, Renee’s shirt was empty of anyone but herself. Still, at least it was one more thing to rule out.

“Cora? Awake yet? Hello?” She called out hopefully, but of course, received no reply. Sighing and folding her arms, she looked around the trash-strewn pile that was their shared bedroom. Searching the place in this state would take hours, but it had to be done.

She had to be sure.

Hanging a plastic bag off the end of the couch to act as a makeshift garbage bin, Renee dropped to her hands and knees and crawled around the room, squinting carefully at each piece of trash she picked up. She’d turn over each object and examine it from every angle before removing it from the equation and throwing it in the bag. Minutes dragged on as she gradually cleared a path across the floor, her mind focused entirely on the search.

As she peeled a half-melted chocolate bar off the side of one of the sandals she’d been wearing the night before, she noticed something wedged in the heel. Her heart skipped a beat as she seized the sandal in her hands, bringing it closer to her glasses to get a better look. Cora’s favourite pants were thoroughly mashed into the heel, yet still without the rest of her. How long had these been here?! It wasn’t inconceivable that this was related to the disappearance, but it was also just as likely that she’d had these things stuck there for weeks without even realizing. She recalled the occasion when one of Cora’s designer jackets had vanished for over a month before turning up crumpled in the back-pocket of Renee’s jeans.

By this point the paranoia had properly started to take hold, and while the absence of blood should’ve made her cast the possibility aside, Renee flipped the footwear over to look at the bottom…

… and saw a squishy, red mess on the bottom. For the briefest of moments, her mind cried ‘I KNEW IT!’ It took her mere seconds to register what the mess was, but in that time, the image flashed across her vision; little Cora, stumbling around drunkenly on the floor, trying to get out of the way as Renee wandered nearer, blissfully unaware of her semi-incapacitated housemate.

Cora would’ve tripped, landed on that cute little ass of hers and rolled onto her back, throwing up her hand in a feeble act of defense as Renee’s sandal-clad foot came crashing down on her… One barely audible ‘crunch’ later, and the geek was living alone once more.

However, this was not the case; Renee could be a bit slow on the uptake, but in spite of all her worry… she knew a gummy bear when she saw one.

Allowing her mind to tune out for a moment, Renee turned her attention to the television. In its muted state, the only effect it had on the room was a flickering series of differently coloured lights and a low humming noise. When had she turned it on? Had she known Cora was missing by that stage? Was Cora even missing when she’d sat down to watch it?

She wandered over to the couch, strewn with discarded clothes and empty packets of chips. Bending over at the waist, Renee took note that both her normal-sized gaming controller and Cora’s custom-built smaller one were side by side in the middle cushion; at some point they’d played games together, so the likelihood that she was still in the bedroom seemed certain.

Perhaps it had been one of their gaming wagers, made more complicated by their relative intoxication. She distinctly remembered the rather excellent toe massage she’d received from Cora when the little lady had lost one of their last bets, as well as the deeply embarrassing lap-dance Renee had given her housemate when the big gal lost the rematch; still, at least it had given her an excuse to wear her bunny tail for once.

She reached back and gave her bottom a squeeze, remembering the feeling of having the little clip-on ball of fluff sitting just above her rump… and as she did so, she felt a lump between her buttocks.

A stupid grin of incredibly relief spread across Renee’s face as she stuffed her hand down the back of her shorts and fished around in her crack, fingers probing the mass of flesh until, finally, she extracted the diminutive form of Cora Layne. Her hair was ruffled, her clothes were gone and she looked like the eventual hangover would hit her like a ten tonne ass, but she was still alive, still breathing, still in one piece… and apparently, not happy at being dragged out of bed.

“Fuuuuuccckkk me dude, what time is it? What… why am I awake? Wannagobacktosleepnowthanks.” Renee laughed the awkward, breathless laugh of someone whose fears have been suddenly dispelled.

“Ha… haha… sorry squirt, I uh… just needed to let one rip, didn’t think you’d want to be there when it happened.”

“Oh… good call… well… give it a minute then put me back yeah? S’not early enough to be awake-time…”

“It’s 11am.”

“… S’not early enough to be awake-time.” Cora repeated, rolling over onto her stomach and burying her face in the skin of Renee’s palm, her plump little bottom cheerfully staring her room-mate in the face.

Renee strolled over to her bed and lay herself down on it in relief, her body flushed with relaxation as she carefully positioned herself on her stomach before returning Cora to the inside of her shorts, tucked just between her cheeks. She giggled inwardly as she felt the familiar sensation of the tiny lady burrowing deeper into her backside before coming to a halt.

“See?” She said to herself, “Nothing to worry about. I knew what I was doing all along…”

‘You’ve sat on her about five times in the past hour. It’s a miracle she wasn’t crushed.’

“… Fuck off.”