Miriam cackled in the center of the mattress. She howled and hugged herself with one arm, kicking her pudgy feet in the air. Her other arm stretched over her immense belly, and her thick, swollen fingers possessively cupped her puffy vulva. The scraggly hairs scraped and rasped within her own palm, and thick, syrupy fluid spurted between her knuckles, soaking into bed sheets already crusty and stained.
“Keep it up, little man!” she cried. Her huge breasts flopped over her forearm and slapped comically against her own jaw. “You’re doing great! Keep fighting! Oh, my Goddess, I can feel everything you do!” She bit her lip and clamped her thighs together, fat knees rolling against each other as the tension built in her loins. Deep within her, somewhere below her belly and in front of her ass, a tiny man struggled desperately for survival: there was no oxygen within Miriam’s vaginal canal, and Lionel was running out of exactly this resource. Without it, he wouldn’t be kicking and punching for long.
She knew it almost as well as he did. Yet it was still funny to keep her hand clamped over the entrance to her pussy (or the exit, for him), and she rolled her hips delightedly on the overburdened mattress as her labia got slipperier and slipperier with the seemingly unending stream of vasocongestive fluids her body churned out. Did Miriam know she was a sexual miracle? If she did, she blithely accepted it in the pursuit of her body’s demands, one of which was to creep closer and closer to cumming with a squirmy little man insider her cooze.
“Holy fuck, you’re so good,” she moaned. “I never thought you had—unff—so much energy in you. But you’re dancing around in me something fierce, aren’t you? You really want to live, don’t you? Well, hold on, just another minute.” Miriam didn’t have a clear picture on how long someone could hold their breath. All she had for reference was Brent, who’d built up his endurance over a few years of marriage, and her first Tiny husband who, unfortunately, passed away in an act of passion. Two data points wasn’t sufficient for Miriam to extrapolate any meaningful information, and so she pressed her fingertips to shut her labia, trying her darnedest to clench her vulva and resist the earnest little kicks and strokes of the frenetic little being inside her.
But her orgasm had other ideas. It overtook her like a wild horse. It tugged on all of her tendons and nerve endings like a puppeteer jerking the strings of a marionette. Even this mighty behemoth of a woman was helpless against her own climax. Miriam dug her head into the mattress and strained her throat to release an incredible scream. Her immense breasts flopped to the sides, threatening to tear from her chest and roll off the bed entirely. Muscles deep within her thighs managed to strain and show through cakes of blubber, and her hands balled into fists and pounded the bed. Her entire vaginal canal clenched, and the hapless Mr. Kelley shot out like a bullet, sprawling upon the sheets, immediately followed by gallons (to him) of pussy juice, dousing everything around him. When the torrent finally abated, he greedily gasped at the cool, musty bedroom air and spat up the thick fluids her entrapment had forced him to consume.
Slowly the muscles deep within Miriam’s flab began to release, and she spread out like a deflated Macy’s parade balloon. She also gulped down fresh air, replenishing her body for another round, panting happily. “That was pretty good, little guy,” she said, coughing. “I didn’t know how strong you were. You really got a will to live, don’t you?”
Lionel said nothing, lying flat in sodden sheets, struggling to hold air in his lungs.
“That’ll come in handy. I don’t think you could take another couple rounds with me unless you really, really wanted to live. You know what I mean?” Miriam twirled a lock of hair in her fingers, staring at the ceiling. “You really gotta want to live when I get a hold of you. That’s what makes it great. If you give up and just fuck off, if you don’t care if you live or die, that deosn’t do anything for me. I need a feisty little guy who doesn’t give up! That’s what gets me off.” She shrugged her shoulders luxuriantly into the mattress. “You wanna get me off, doncha? Of course you do! So whaddya say, you ready for the next round?”
Lionel laboriously hauled his head up to glare resentfully at her. Instead, the tiny man only leered at the immense folds of hot pink flesh lining her vulva, squeezed possessively between her bulging, fat thighs. He seriously doubted whether those tissues, however sensitive, could receive the chilling expression he’d intended to transmit.
The gigantic woman moaned loudly as she hauled one thick and meaty leg over the tiny man, collapsing upon her side. “I think we need to change it up, you know? Let’s try something different this time. Just… gimme a minute.” She sucked in incredible amounts of air before shoving her torso upright on the edge of the bed, then glanced at the little scrap of a person. With an alarming I-just-got-a-great-idea grin, she reached back and wrapped Lionel up in her fist, dropping him playfully beside her huge hip. He feebly rolled into the huge crater her monstrous ass plowed into the mattress and bounced against her skin, setting off giddy giggles in Miriam. She watched, fascinated, as he righted himself, took in the lay of the land, and began crawling out of the crater toward the corner of the bed. Nearing its peak, he turned and rested, staring up at her. His hair was slicked back and his tiny beard was gummy with cum, but he grinned up at her, his bare chest panting rapidly.
“You up for an adventure? I wanna try something.” Miriam gave her shoulders a coy little shimmy, which translated into an earthquake for each of her tits.
The tiny man’s eyes blinked a couple times, then watched the mammoth woman rise off the bed. The crater slowly filled in behind her until the mattress was more or less level once more. Lionel stared, astonished at the sheer weight of the woman and the relentless muscles deep within the fat that unfailingly hauled her around. Her gigantic ass swung slowly away and her vast belly turned toward him, nearly spherical and jiggly with a life of its own. Far above this her abundant breasts lay suspended, ready to rumble down in an avalanche at the slightest provocation, and between them her gaping, graceless mouth grinned.
“Stand up,” she told him.
“What?”
“Do it.” Her hand flapped encouragingly by her side.
Shrugging, the thin little man climbed unsteadily to his feet. He found himself nearly eye-level with her navel once more. “Now what?” he called into it.
Miriam’s cheeks dimpled. “Just stay there,” she said, and she heaved her bulk to turn in place once more.
“What are you…”
But the plain, grinning face had disappeared beyond the hillside of a pallid shoulder. A long, shadowy trench ran from the nape of her neck, between two vast cakes of flabby landscape, down nearly to the swelling peaks of two gargantuan buttocks. Her splayed fingers flew around her broad hips, digging with seeming savor into the immense ass cheeks. Flab bulged between sausage-like fingers as her tips dug into the giving, rubbery, pale flesh.
Lionel was hypnotized. Such a huge, gross rump, hovering impossibly before him, wobbling merrily with every slight movement. He was horrified, yet he was transfixed: it seemed an anatomical miracle that the colossal, pear-shaped woman didn’t simply fall apart under her own weight. He stared as the last tufts of her hair disappeared over her shoulders, and how her shoulder blades and the rolling slope of her spine were subsumed behind the immense buttocks. No matter how large one part of her body was, Lionel mused, it always seemed as though something larger was waiting nearby to overtake it. Even now, he stared as her planetary cheeks grudgingly hove apart, as her porky hands strained to clutch as much flesh as they could hold, exposing yards and yards of murky butt crack, running impossibly deeper into the core of the woman. He laughed to himself, morbidly rapt, watching those cheeks spread further and further, staring as the inky seam ran deeper and deeper until he felt sure she had to be tearing herself in half, until finally light began to penetrate to the long, irritated pink fissure over her pelvis. At last, mighty Miriam had finally exhausted herself of all her tonnage of ass-flesh, and there was a bottom to this bottomless pit after all. That angry, wavy line where her cheeks pressed, where no air flowed and moisture built up, that couldn’t be healthy skin. No wonder it looked so irritated! And below that, a large, inflamed orifice of deep radial lines, drawing in closer to a sticky, raw mouth that puffed out, sucked in, and chewed itself as though unsure what to make of the tiny little man invading its privacy.
Abruptly the puffy anus gasped, a haunted maw that opened into perfect darkness. All of Lionel’s muscles and joints seized as the mountainous woman somehow, unbelievably, leaped off the floor and rose into the air. Lionel watched it all in slow-motion, how her thighs rumbled with the launching force, how the rolls of her hips and waist briefly lofted and slipped free of gravity, and how the twin planets of her ass floated above him, directly overhead, blocking out the ceiling and all light, and then…
Before he could scream, the immense ass was upon him. It overtook him, it swallowed up the landscape all around. He had one glimpse of the hungry asshole rushing at him before his eyes, his entire body was blinded to any trace of light.
Miriam laughed as she reached the apex of her flight. Trusting that silly little man to stay put, she aimed her butt as well as she could to come down on him. No sooner did her butt cheeks touch the rumpled bed sheets than there was a violent BANG! Her fleshy sides rumbled and her spine jolted with impact, as the pressboard bed frame finally splintered into shrapnel and the weak joints of the steel support surrendered once and for all. Her body shuddered as the support panels crumbled and the box spring hammered into the floor.
“Oh, Goddess,” she moaned, catching her breath as a stinging sensation ran up and down her spine. Her legs, fortunately had shot out in front of her, spread over a field of sawdust and jagged strips. She looked around at the ruined bed, sagging dramatically to the floor from the pillows at the other end, then began braying with laughter. “Brent’s going to be so pissed… oh well, fuck him! Shouldn’t have bought this cheap-ass bed frame!” She hugged herself, rocking in place, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes as she admired her impact.
After the first wave of her mirth began to subside, she remembered she wasn’t alone in the room. Still chuckling, Miriam began to wiggle her hips, rocking side to side in an attempt to sense anything between her huge, destructive buttocks and the abused mattress. “Lionel? You still with me, buddy? Say something.” She pursed her lips and listened, then bounced a couple more times upon the corner of the bed.
It did not cross her mind that Lionel had no means of shouting beneath a mountain of womanly flesh. He was frozen in place, sandwiched and vacuum sealed beneath the colossal ass of Mrs. Little. He couldn’t move his least finger; his entire body stung with the incredible weight driving him into the mattress. Screaming wasn’t an option: even if his lungs weren’t crushed, any tiny bubble of sound he could produce could never slip past the yards and yards of Miriam’s right ass cheek. His pulse thrummed weakly in his ears as the vast buttock compressed his circulatory system and slowed his blood nearly to a standstill. A loud buzzing rose in his head, buzzing in his ears and filling his optic nerves with static…
All the blackness turned to blurry light, and his chest reinflated as blood resumed its trickle throughout his veins. The overwhelming ache of intense, crushing weight disappeared, gradually replaced by a stabbing headache and the pins-and-needles sensation of blood-deprived limbs restoring to normal. The blurriness gave way to a pale sheet of pink-peach hue, and his body rocked back and forth to a slow, erratic tempo. Far off in the distance, a woman called his name.
Miriam struggled to haul herself up upon two legs from the wrecked bed, kicking debris aside with thick feet. But when she got up, she couldn’t find little Mr. Kelley anywhere. Did he roll off the foot of the bed? She bent over, breasts swinging like wrecking balls, and flipped the footboard away to dig through powdered particle board. Nope, he didn’t seem to be there either. She straightened up and hummed to herself, thumbing one of her nipples idly as she looked around the room. He probably wouldn’t be up on the dresser again, and she would’ve seen him scramble up to the pillows, probably. It was unlikely he flew into the bathroom, but if he somehow made it to the bedroom door, she’d never find him. But why in the world would he want to leave? Frowning, she stumped off to the bathroom just to make sure he wasn’t in there.
She turned sideways to fit into the bathroom: dirty towels were piling up behind the door, and Brent hadn’t taken care of them like she’d told him to. That lazy little fucker was in for some trouble when he got home! “Lionel? Are you in the sink? No… how about the tub? Darn, not there either. Well, you couldn’t have gotten into the toilet, could you?” It was better to check than to overlook something that silly and obvious. How dumb would she feel if he had been in the toilet the whole time? That was just the kind of thing that could only happen to her! “And if you were in there and I didn’t notice, then what? I could come in to take a dump, and you’d be there swimming around, and I’d probably poop right on your head. Eww, nobody wants that. So if you’re in here somewhere, I need you to speak up and let me know, okay, sweetie? We’ve got a lot of fucking to do before I send you home.” She closed the door to poke through the towels.
Lionel had no idea what was going on. The world kept spinning, poorly perceived shapes and colors kept changing. His ribs ached each time he tried to inhale, yet the terror of being unable to breathe drove him to gulp down extra lungfuls of air. He could hear Miriam’s voice echoing in the distance… no, not in the distance. It was too loud and close for that, but it was definitely echoing off of something. And what was hugging him? He was no longer being crushed, but nearly his entire body was gently pinched and held immobile. One arm hung freely and flopped around as he swung from side to side, being led around by something he couldn’t perceive.
And then Miriam screamed. The sharp peal bounced off the narrow walls and stabbed his ears. Feebly he attempted to cover one ear with his free arm, still numb and hard to control.
“There you are!” Miriam laughed, and Lionel began to bounce frenetically. “I was looking everywhere for you! How in the world did you get in there?”
His eyes reluctantly focusing, he strained to take in his environment. Almost immediately he spotted Miriam’s engorged and bare rump poking directly at him, just a few feet away. As his vision cleared he picked out a tiny figure wedged between her cheeks, another little man! Another? Shit, had Brent gotten home already? That wasn’t the deal!
But no, Lionel slowly realized that the tiny man embedded deep in that crack looked more familiar than the hapless group therapy partner. In fact, the tiny man was staring back at him, just as intently, looking pretty haggard and tired himself.
It took him way too long to realize he was staring into a full-length mirror hanging on the back of the bathroom door. He could only just make out Miriam’s hilarious expression, peering over her fat shoulder as her fingers slowly scrabbled across the landscape of her ass toward the valley in which he was stashed. Her thick fingertips seized upon his arm, and she tugged thoughtlessly at him, nearly ripping his off his limb. Between her dank and sweaty buttcrack and him being covered in her drying sexual nectar, he was plastered pretty securely between her cheeks.
“Miriam! Hold on, wait a minute!” he screamed in a direction somewhere above her ass. “You’re going to pull my arm off! Let me try to free myself or something.” He mustered the strength to begin to spread her immense buttocks apart, and then a waterfall of warm water came flooding into her crack and dousing him: she had filled a washcloth with water and was able to wring it just above his position. Together, the two of them slowly unpasted tiny Mr. Kelley from mammoth Mrs. Little’s butt, and she clucked happily over her little prize in her palm, stumbling back into the bedroom.
“That was kind of an adventure for ya, huh?” She grinned, and he only now realized how childish, somehow, her teeth looked between those thin, awkward lips. Her eyes, dull and bleary in the best of times, nonetheless lit up with excitement as she talked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got something else for ya, I think you’ll like it. There’ll be less chance of you getting lost anywhere, I’m pretty sure, as long as you remember to keep your arms and legs in!”
He asked what in the world that could mean but she didn’t seem to hear him. Instead, she cupped him between the sheer walls of her hanging boobs as she bent over and rummaged around in the drawer of a nightstand. “Where are you, where are you,” she muttered. “Goddess, I sure gotta lot of these things. How’d I get so many? Oh, here we go!” She stood and presented to Lionel a heavy, thick rod.
He looked at it. It was purple and dully shiny, and it looked about three times as long as him. It lay slightly sagging in her open palm.
He looked up at her. Her eyebrows were raised and her grin threatened to crack her cheeks, it was so wide. She nodded slightly at him.
He looked down at her breasts, because they were right there. They were enormous and heavy, and he wondered what it would be like to nap on one while the other rested upon him, whether that would be safe. He didn’t know where that thought came from, though it led directly to supposing there were several ways to die on, around, or within this large, dumb woman’s body, completely by accident. Involuntary manslaughter. Misadventure with big knockers.
“So?” she prompted. “Whaddya think?”
He looked at it again. “It looks pretty solid, I guess. That’s a lot of material, whatever it is. What’s it for?”
Her upper body rumbled as he chuckled. Her breasts churned just below his feet. “What do you think it’s for?”
Her palm was hot against his back, hot and soft. Lionel really wanted to explore her breasts, but he was just curious enough to assume there was a point to this line of inquiry. “I dunno. It’s solid, it looks flexible. I guess you could use it to kill mice? You know.” He pantomimed flogging imaginary pests.
Miriam threw back her head and laughed. Her nostrils were twin caverns that flared, her entire neck shuddered, and her breast nearly danced up into her hands. “No, dummy! Gross! This isn’t for killing rats! Although,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him, “my pussy does like to gobble it down.”
She rolled the long shaft in her palm, and something about the gesture made Lionel wish she’d play with him like that. As it rolled, one end of it was exposed to have a kind of helmet, and immediately he realized he was staring at the single-most largest dildo he’d ever seen in his entire life. Margaret had a little vibrator, smaller than a chicken’s egg and shaped like a thin oval, that she’d slip inside herself. There was even enough room for Lionel to insert himself, too, and lodge it against his back while he pleasured her. Or there had been, a long time ago. But this behemoth Miriam held in her hand, no, that would never fit anywhere inside Margaret, and he could scarcely believe Miriam would desire to jam it into herself.
As she turned the silicone dildo, a large cavity rolled into view. It looked like it could hold a roll of quarters, or even Margaret’s elegant little vibrator. Surely this wasn’t where the batteries went, unless it was powered by D cells! “What’s that for, is it broken?” Lionel asked her.
“That’s for you, sweetie! Try to remember to keep your arms and legs inside!” With only that for introduction, Miriam dumped Lionel upon the dildo. He struggled to climb out, but her fat fingers kept hammering down on him, stuffing an arm inside, shoving his chest back, cramming his head into the hole and then going for a leg. “Huh, it looks like it’s a little small for you,” she said.
“It is! It’s cramped! I’ll never fit in here, and why would I want to?”
“Brent never had a problem with it.”
“What? You put your husband in here?” He looked about himself in shock. “Did he have any clothes on when he went in here?”
Miriam looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course not, that’d mess ’em up! Quit fighting and get in there. I think you have to, like, curl up on your side and you’ll fit.”
“Why in the world would I want to fit in here? What are you…” Slowly and at great length, the wheels began to turn in Lionel’s mind. He stared up at her in horror. “You couldn’t. There’s no way.”
“No way, what?” She clutched the whole dildo in her fist, her thick fingers locking him into position, as she turned and thumped across the room once more. Unable to see where they were going, Lionel surveyed the destroyed bed instead, wondering how he hadn’t been killed.
“You’re not seriously going to…”
“Going to what? Use your words, Mr. Professor-Guy!” She lifted him up to her face: her watery eyes glistened and her lips danced in anticipation. He felt profoundly disadvantaged: the combination of his diminutive stature compared to her fleshy face, not just his nudity but the leftover mucilage of her crotch, and having to curl up sideways in this shallow channel—carved into the side of a dildo, and you know what that meant—all compounded to make this otherwise clever little man feel unbalanced and insecure. How could he possibly frame all this in one or two sentences, using words this monstrous oaf could readily comprehend?
He raised his head slightly, straining at an odd angle. “Well, first of all—”
“Time’s up!” Her other palm grasped the rest of the shaft, blocking his view of anything. His stomach lurched toward his feet, and then all his guts rushed up into his chest, and then there was a bone-rattling CRASH!
When the wide palms lifted away from the dildo, it was more or less upright, and with his head nearer the tip, so was Lionel. He shook his head a couple times and blinked hard, then took in his environment. It seemed that the dildo had been mounted onto a chair, next to her dresser. He didn’t recall seeing one there, but here he was. “Now that that’s all over with,” he said, looking for Miriam. All he could see from his little alcove were her enormous thighs, rubbing against each other as she shifted from foot to foot, excited about something else, as always. “I’ve never seen anyone with such endless reserves of energy! I mean, for someone with your metabolism, let’s be frank, you should be a wiry little dynamo. Something between a Whippet and an Olympic track star. Isn’t that odd?” He took a deep breath and slowly unfolded one leg. His foot swung through empty space, reaching for the chair’s surface, a candy-apple red vinyl cushion fringed in hammered brass tacks, though the frame of the chair was a brushed steel that didn’t go with it at all. How could he not have noticed this? He supposed he was buried in her tits or stuffed between her thighs for most of his time in this room. He just couldn’t seem to reach the cushion, however, so he slid his hips down and half-squatted, wondering if it would just be easier to fall out.
“Ah, ah, ah,” came a musical warning, far above.
Lionel froze in position and looked up at the voluptuous giantess. Her thighs were rubbing against each other, but her hand was stabbing between them once more. “Oh, no,” said Lionel, watching the juices spring from her gnarly black thicket and flow down her inner thighs.
“Arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times, buster!” The monstrous beauty began to rotate.
“Oh, no, please. Please, Miriam, don’t do what I think you’re about to do.” He found himself speaking to her vast and spreading ass once more.
“There aren’t any seatbelts in that li’l thing,” she announced in a sing-song voice, “and I don’t want you to lose anything you come in here with. And if you fell out?” She laughed and slapped her ass, sending shock waves circling around her hips and rear for longer than Lionel would’ve thought. “Who knows? You could get lost in there! Maybe forever!” She laughed harder, backing up to the chair. Shadows glided over the wall of the dresser, overtook the entire seat cushion. Lionel’s heart pounded as her ass became everything, blocking everything, replacing everything. “And that wouldn’t be so bad, I don’t think. My own little Pussy Professor, lost deep inside me all the time? Dancing for my pleasure, doomed to forever look for the exit? Mmm!”
Lionel looked around: she was too close now. He waited too long. If he dropped and ran, she’d pin him with one abundant buttock upon an unforgiving vinyl-and-steel seat. Begging for his life, he pulled his leg back inside and tried to stand up, as far as the alcove would allow him.
“There’s always the chance my husband will meet you in there, you know, so don’t give up hope!” Her greedy fingers wormed their way down over her immense buttocks and began picking at her outer labia. Hot pink and slick tissues spread around a clenching hole. Lionel could see all the details he didn’t want to, all the folds of skin, the glimpse of urethra, the scraggly hairs that strayed into her pussy with minds of their own. “Of course, who knows what condition you’ll be in when he finds you… guess you better hold your breath!”
“Miriam! Don’t!” Lionel crouched in the alcove as her broad ass lowered upon the dildo.
“Can’t hear you, little lover! Are you ready for the ride of your life? You’re gonna feel so good!”
He heard the click of liquids as the head of the dildo bumped blindly against her vulva. “Miriam, for Goddess’s sake! You’re crazy! You’re going to kill me!”
“You’ll feel good to me, anyway” she amended, unhearing. “Who cares how you’re going to feel.”
Lionel screamed as the thick, glistening lips swallowed the head of the dildo. Her fat fingers released her labia, hanging thick and meaty before him, the last thing he saw before the first vulvic ring slid over the chamber. He shrieked, pounding at the entrance to her vagina as it slid on by, brushing over his shoulder, then his thigh. His tiny fist made wet little slap-slaps against the copiously lubricated tissues. In the fading light he even saw her muscles working, a wide band of muscle behind tender tissue that clenched occasionally, hugging the dildo and intruding on Lionel’s space. “Miriam! Miriam, don’t, please! Let me out!” he cried, slapping his weak fist against the awesome power of her vaginal muscles, until her vulva passed his feet and cast him into darkness.
“Such a little whiner,” Miriam mused. She stared vaguely into the distance, trying to focus on where that floppy dildo was going. She warned him, she really did, about the dangers of falling out of the dildo, and she hoped he listened. Not just for his own health and well-being, but because she wanted him inside her! Oh, that uppity little man, so full of big words and high concepts. She always caught him staring at her during those therapy sessions. She knew he thought he was so clever, looking away quickly or pretending to stare at something over her shoulder. But it was just an elegant little man, a rich little college guy with his lofty attitude and shit, all fancy on the outside: on the inside, he was just another penis trying to break into her one way or another. He stared at her tits, he watched her when she sat down, he even gawked at her mouth when she talked. She knew, oh, she knew all right. She’d seen guys like this before, acting like they were so much better than her, living on another plane of existence. Big or tiny, men were all the same: they had illusions about themselves that they demanded you agree to and support, even as they opened themselves up and exposed themselves for the hungry, horny, lonely little children they all were.
Lionel was no different, she thought, feeling the resilient bulk of the dildo slowly pushing inside her. She bit her lip and grinned, clutching her butt cheeks out of the way as the screaming became muffled. Her ass hit the chair, finally. She made that part last a long time, slowly going down, learning to overpower her impatience and greed to savor this part. And it was wonderful! She could picture that stuffy little professor, so well groomed and dashing, disappearing inch by inch inside her ravenous cunt. The image thrilled her, made her thighs clench, but she only sat on the steel chair, custom built to withstand her body, and clenched that thick dildo a few times, trying to imagine Lionel’s expression.
When she couldn’t wait any longer, she took a long, deep breath, gripped her knees, and silently wished Lionel good luck.