Netted
By Supernova

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No generative AI was used in the creation of this work.

Webbed cords of fishnet left deep, pulsing pink gridding impressed upon Gemma's cheek. Abruptly shrunk by a bright pink flash and quickly sandwiched between polyester coiling and the soft inner thigh of her friend's mother, she experienced an instant and agonizing shattering of identity. Having been tricked via text message from her friend's phone, she now found herself held tightly within the stocking of the older woman, a looming face smiling wildly from above.

Hearing the woman cackle, the shrill voice conducted through the twisted fibers, the inch-tall woman attempted to prod her fingers through the stocking that held her. Her back depressed against the tan field of clammy skin, she inhaled ragged, horrified breaths. Her olfactory system hijacked by a delirium-inducing mixture of sweat and a sickly-sweet perfume, she screeched, raising an arm towards the distant visage.

Gemma's vision blurry with tears, she stared upon the hazy form of her friend Maria's mother, her panicked mind allowed her only to shout "Please!", given that her actual name remained a mystery. Frantically slapping the surface beside her, Gemma grunted, her skin sticky with the sweat of someone who was practically a stranger to her. The immense woman, licking her lips, roughly gripped the black netting of her stocking on either side of Gemma. Immense strength pulled the fabric, pressing it into her inner thigh as though attempting to cube the inch-tall woman like a tomato using the matrix of polyester fibers. Inhaling the scent forced a sensation of uncanny intimacy to course through her veins, the radiant warmth of skin-to-skin contact smelling intensely feminine, with a residue of her rose-scented body lotion mixing into her sweat.

Wriggling, the nude college student felt the cords that pressed against her soak in sheets of her salty, fear-drenched sweat. Forming a strangely frictionless film upon the netting, Gemma shifted her shoulders through one of the tight square gaps, slithering through it like an eel. Grasping one of the nearby fibers, she pursed her lips and winced, trying to kick away the tree trunk-sized thumb and forefinger grasping at her ankle.

Gripping one of the black fishnets with white knuckles, she shrieked hard enough to spray spittle over her shivering hands. Whipping her head back-and-forth in a frenzied panic, she felt herself stretch the netting upwards before snapping it back on the older woman's thigh, forming a shockwave upon her tan skin as though it were flicked.

Excruciatingly cold wind passed her body as she felt herself ascend towards a set of plump, puckering lips. Maroon gloss slathered over her as she tried, in vain, to press the lower lip away with her palm. Alcoholic grape-scented slime oozed through her fingers, drizzling warmth up her forearms.

MWAH!

The kiss thundered through her, zapping her skull with vibration. Wriggling hard, she kicked the wrinkly surface with all her might. Stained with maroon gloss, she attempted to wipe away the glistening makeup, finding her hand weighed down with cords of hot saliva. Breathing heavily, smelling the wine-soaked breath that stained her skin, she slammed both of her fists against the lower lip, landing against the surface with a soft plop.

Her friend's mother responded by enveloping Gemma's head in the center of her puckering mouth, sucking her to the back of her throat, and jetting her down her esophagus in one smooth motion. In less than a half-second, Gemma found her screaming muffled by the peristaltic downward motion of her friend's mother, the person who shrank her down to an inch tall only minutes ago.

Gemma's entire world had changed. From open resistance to tight, restrictive blackness. Tears escaped her eyes, mixing with the cluster of spit bubbles accompanying her during her quick, slimy descent.

Thunderous, feminine moaning echoed around her squirming body as the nameless sphincter spat her out into the roiling sac below.

The gridding of sore, pink imprints where the fishnets were embedded in her skin began to burn first. Running her fingers through her puke-soaked hair, Gemma experienced the cold sting of mortality begin to creep up from within her. Dragging her hands along the rippled surface of the stomach's interior, she felt the mixed stain of makeup, wine, and saliva begin to peel away at her skin in rectangular sheets.

Snorted
By Supernova

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No generative AI was used in the creation of this work.

Chestnut brown hair whipped painfully against Katie's face within the unrecognizable blur of her sister's bedroom.

Her teeth clattering together, the frills of Katie's blouse pinched between the uncannily powerful grip of Sammi's palm. Wanting to scream for her sister, the tiny woman's eye caught the bronze doorknob across the room, the pin clearly in the locked position.

Inhaling ragged, perfume-scented breaths, Katie stared up at her sister's friend, the face taking up the entirety of her periphery. Unable to parse the fine details from Sammi's quivering, the slick sweat now coating the inside of her palms betrayed a sense of fear in the incomprehensibly immense woman.

Gulping painfully through a constricted throat, Katie could see her own disheveled reflection in Sammi's stylish glasses, which were shifting upon the bridge of her nose due to her flaring nostrils. The tiny woman winced as she stared upon the blurry face looming above her. Katie thought it was as though Sammi were trying to itch something within her nasal cavity without touching it.

Three loud pounds echoed through the room as a fist assertively slammed upon the door. "Sammi? Did you lock the door?" The doorknob jiggled rapidly. "Are you fucking with me right now?"

"Emma!" Katie's voice squeaked in a bolt of pain. She thrashed against Sammi's closed fist like an energetic worm.

A sheet of dark, straight hair gleamed in the low light of Emma's bedroom as Sammi whipped her head around, still holding Katie in a closed fist directly before her. "Just a seg, Emma, I just gott--a'CHOO!"

Ringing daze fizzled through Katie's skull. Her first instinct was that she was on fire, given the abrupt thrust into a world of heat. Opening her mouth to scream, she whipped her head backwards so savagely that she heard a crunch when the salty ooze of Sammi's fresh snot flooded into her mouth. Choking out thick-membraned bubbles of cloudy, light yellow muck, she thrashed her mucus-webbed fingers, tickled by the bubbles she exhaled cascade against her forearms.

Another three impacts upon the door. "Sammi, seriously, what the fuck?"

Katie's face couldn't penetrate the cord of snot that connected her face to Sammi's left nostril. Her internal organs jiggled against the inside of her torso. The iron grip of the fist dissolved to nothing, causing Katie to kick wildly in the air, suspended by the coiling wire pouring from the nostril above.

Heaving in disgust, Katie found herself dangling from Sammi's head from a thick wire of warm mucus. Writhing intensely, feeling the goo cling to her face, she experienced a fear and disgust so horrific that she could barely stay conscious. A whirring ringing flooded through her eardrums, swinging in arbitrary directions, feeling the cold wind upon her face.

She choked, sensing the vibration hum up and down the hot cord. Sammi, covering her other nostril with her finger, was now inhaling as intensely as she could with her mouth sealed. Hoisted up with the deep sound of wet phlegm-infused snuffling. The tiny woman had only enough time to eke out a "Sa-" before being bundled into the center of a bubbling mass of warm gunk.

Unable to breathe, trapped within a warm, dark chamber deep inside someone's head, Katie screeched. Having no idea what was going on, she lost track of which way was up and down as she floated within the center of the snot lump. The only response was a vile, wet snorting echo from literally all sides, as though someone were sucking snot loud enough to burst her eardrums.

Pulled towards a fleshy precipice by an anchor of ooze, Katie could only grunt, slithering down a pulsing esophagus with a cluster of bubbling froth. A frictionless current guided her towards the rest of her life.

"Sorry", A feminine voice blasts every cell in her body as Sammi's body presses the slime through the stomach's wrinkled entrance. "I didn't want you to see so many boogers. It was, like, gross."

Contacted
By Supernova

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No generative AI was used in the creation of this work.

Isabella gazed upon her friend's unmoving visage. One eye blue and one eye a deep, dark shade of brown. A stern expression colored her face, blinking slowly over an unmoving frown.

"Amelia, why are you looking at me like that?" She said, sweetly, her shoulders curling up in an awkward position.

A set of warm palms covered her face as Amelia darted across the bed. Feeling her hands press her cheeks inward, she eked out a smile through puffed, squished lips. Raising her eyebrows, she allowed her friend to gently place her back upon the duvet, straddling her.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have the most beautiful, blue eyes?" Her friend's long, pin-straight, dark hair framed her face, casting a threatening shadow over her high cheekbones. The mismatched eyes stared downwards in a half-scowl.

Experiencing a thrum of confusion, Isabella winced. "I… uh. I don't really like you in that w…"

"Shh-" Amelia interrupted, peeling her clammy palm away from Isabella's face, before hovering her finger so close to her pupil that her nail sprung against her lashes.

Isabella, now experiencing her chest well up in fear, gently twisted her hips to buck Amelia off of her. "What are you doing? This is getting we-"

"Shh!" Amelia was curt and intense, swirling her finger around the circumference of Isabella's iris. From her perspective, she could only view a single, dark blur obfuscate her field of vision.

In an instant, Isabella's face felt as though it were being tugged, as though Amelia's fingertip were an inescapable vacuum. The uncanny sensation violently pulled her skin, far past the point it'd otherwise tear. She sensed her legs drag along the bed underneath her, towards her head, though she knew that she wasn't moving. Her nails dragged along the duvet, scraping a zipping sound against the soft fabric.

Isabella attempted to gasp, but found her face to be nothing more than a sheer, flush surface. A series of ridges formed along some sort of convex curve. Any attempt to scream, or breathe, was met with an uncanny sensation of nothingness. Where was once a beating heart was now a deathly stillness.

Entrapped by the consistency of consciousness, she felt herself hoisted into the air, gazing upon her friend's unmoving face. Blurred with distance, she could see her one dark brown, almost black eye approach with frightening and abrupt speed.

Her lashes looked as though they were immense spikes protruding from her eyelids as a sense of close body heat violated a concave crater on her back end. Electric closeness slid over her as a fluid soaked every inch of her form. Confused and stuck in a panic, she attempted to screech, but could only emit silence.

An organic crackling sound sent a chill through her soul as she felt two thin slides of flesh slip over her skin, sealing her in hot darkness, before they peeled away in an instant. Strobing horror flickered through her body as she felt the warmth before her slither over her in frighteningly slick bursts.

Forced to look forwards, through the haze of someone else's tears, stood Amelia. Her friend tilted her head, and she could feel herself bend, she squinted, and her whole world dimmed.

Gently darted with the micro-movements of Amelia's eyes, Isabella's inner horror reached dissonant, horrifying levels as her friend leaned forwards, her nose nearly touching the mirror.

Before her stared a set of two brilliant blue irises, each one a thin contact lens hugging the bright white sclera that surrounded them. Isabella screeched internally, realizing that she was now nothing more than her friend's contact lens, floating in her hot, unshed tears.

Rejuvenated
By Supernova

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No generative AI was used in the creation of this work.

"You got too close!"

Feebee sang as she spilled her bright red hair across the thick turquoise throw-rug behind her, gently laying her nude body upon its surface. Her porcelain skin shimmered under the fluorescent lights above as she dragged an inch-tall, writhing woman along her left nipple. Gently biting her lower lip while watching the pair of tiny hands attempt to fight against the quickly-hardening mound, she couldn't suppress the tinge of sadness thrumming through her chest. Her eyebrows furrowed in a mockery of sadness as she watched the minuscule woman's writhing, holding her upside-down by her ankle. Having been doing this in the green room before shows for twenty years, she couldn't help but feel it was a bit "off" now that she was hanging out with women her daughter's age.

Hearing the younger woman gag as she dragged her against her pubic hair, Feebee jumped in surprise, responding to a sharp, painful tug at one of the strands.

Whipping the tiny woman up to her face, Feebee squinted, staring down the woman that had been brought to her. Red face glinting with tears, disheveled brown hair, a pair of glasses with a lens missing, and, as she suspected, she looked to be in her early twenties. Someone just plucked out of the audience and literally served on a platter. The singer puckered her lips gently, pressing the soft surface against the tiny face before landing a wet, tender kiss. Her pair of glasses torn away by a cord of saliva, Feebee ran her pointer finger along the back of the woman's head, as though to comfort her. She felt a tense quivering through her sweat-and-saliva-soaked hair.

"Shh, it's okay, sweetie." She kissed her again, causing Feebee to feel two points of pressure upon her lower lip. A rush of regret washed through her, thinking about what it'd be like if her daughter were going through this. Someone from the local college trying to let loose on the weekend, it could have been anyone. Looking down at the tiny woman with a kind gaze, she smiled. "This part doesn't hurt. Shhh..."

Sparing her a slow drag, Feebee quickly slipped the struggling woman up her already-soaking vagina. Her jaw shot back, her back arched, and she gasped upon receipt of such a flutter of motion in such a sensitive area. Softly swirling two fingers near her clitoris, she rolled around the turquoise throw rug, experiencing the transcendent sensation of a vulnerable part of her body being powerful enough to overwhelm an entire human being. Each thrust she felt between her legs was someone desperately trying to cling to their lives and all she needed to do was breathe deeply.

Fishing the drenched, coughing woman from her sopping crotch, Feebee lifted the drizzling fan from between her thighs before gingerly depositing the quivering body upon her tongue's center crevice. Cradling her in a bubble of mucus-ridden saliva, the forty-five year old singer experienced a sense of rejuvenation. Her fans, both inside and out, were equally enthusiastic.