Gavin was trapped at the back of a dingy van, encased within a small glass jar. He would soon meet his fate, deep in the guts of a cute bass guitarist. His heart pounded in his chest, a staccato rhythm that felt alien compared to the calm cadence of the earlier night. He couldn't help but reflect on earlier events, the ones that led him – and his friends – to their doom.

He had been enjoying a leisurely walk with his girlfriend, Sophia, and their mutual friend, Rosa. This was a little tradition of theirs, their ideal way to unwind on a Saturday night following a long day spent together at the beach. Underneath the moonlit sky, the three shared a joint, and their laughter echoed softly. Gavin contentedly listened as the girls shared that week’s drama. The focal point was an ordeal at Rosa’s workplace. A new, seemingly unjust dress code policy had landed her in a sticky situation with HR. Rosa was convinced the policy was a thinly veiled attempt to target her.

The wind carried a floral scent. When his high settled in, Gavin walked a ways behind the two as they continued chatting, enjoying the cool air of the early night. Sophia had a perfect shapely bottom, round and plump in her jeans, and she had the habit of speaking with her hands. He watched her arms flail as she highlighted her week to Rosa. Her voice was beautiful, like a melody in the night.

He loved that girl; he hoped to work up the nerve to ask her to marry him in the next few months. Gavin jammed his hands into his pockets as he walked. The ring was going to cost a fortune, but he already had the money put aside. A while ago, she showed him a curated Pinterest board outlining the exact styles she liked and told him her exact measurements. She was not the type of girl who liked to be surprised very often.

As the women moved beneath the park lights, their silhouettes accentuated the soft bends of their figures. Gavin sighed, smiling at the hint of condensation from his breath. After this, the three of them would head back to his and Sophia’s place and have a few drinks. Eventually, they would tire, and declare near simultaneously that they wanted to sleep. Both ladies would snuggle up against him, his warmth seeping into their skin. Adorably, always, they sought his permission before Rosa would nestle in. His response, without fail, was a heartening yes.

A dim silhouette appeared in the distance, walking towards them. This was not unusual. They were in the dead center of a college town, and there were a lot of university bars around the park. As they came closer, Gavin saw she was wearing an oversized metal band t-shirt, tucked hastily into a black slit skirt. His eyes flicked between Sophia, Rosa, and the approaching stranger, a nervous pulse beating in his throat. He had an odd feeling about her, but he brushed it off as anxiety from his high.

“Hey,” the black-clad woman said as she approached Sophia and Rosa. “Am I in the right place? I’m looking for the Penny Lane Pub. Is that around here somewhere?”

“Oh yeah,” Sophia replied warmly, pointing towards their own path through the park. Pivoting towards Gavin, she sought his agreement. "That’s not far from here. Can we walk you over there? What do you think, Gavin?”

“I… well,” he started, but Sophia cocked her head to the side and he immediately relented. “Yeah, I don’t mind. I’m a huge fan of Penny Lane anyway,” he stated, trying to calm his nerves surrounding the woman. “Uh, how did you end up out here…?”

“Michelle, I’m Michelle,” the woman said as she squeezed her arms in front of herself, squishing her tiny breasts together underneath the band tee. Gavin didn’t think she was wearing a bra. “I’m playing with my band there,” she gestured at her shirt which read MICROCOSMIC DOOM, “just stepped out for some fresh air and I guess ventured too far from the venue. We’re not from around here. We’re sort of on tour for the first time. Mind if I share your spliff?” She asked, referring to the joint they shared earlier.

Rosa giggled, “It’s gone, man, sorry. Congrats on the tour by the way, that must be exciting!” The group started walking in the direction Michelle had come. 

“I knew my nose was right. So you three are pretty baked, then?” The woman stepped out ahead of the trio and turned to face them. She was taller than Gavin by maybe two inches. In the lamplight, she appeared incredibly pale. Her eyes met his and he felt entranced by her. His initial discomfort, which had just begun tiptoeing away, roared back into his stomach like an icy gust.

“You wouldn’t mind if I…” Michelle trailed off but pressed a finger to Rosa’s buttonish nose.

The brunette blinked, then vanished at the touch. Gavin rushed forward and put a protective hand over Sophia.

“I don’t actually have to touch you to do that,” Michelle giggled, and Sophia vanished behind him. He turned, his jaw slack. A pain oozed into his nerves like a shot of ice water injected into his neck. It soaked down his spine and sprawled outward into his back and through his limbs. It felt like his brain was submerged in snow. Gavin figured the woman must have struck him. The ground was approaching fast.

She must have hit him hard. When he came to, everything around him was massive. Groggily, he sat up. The ground felt especially rough. The light above seemed so far away, and so encompassing. It was like the sun. Watching his surroundings, he noticed a black structure to his left. He stood and walked over to it. It felt so soft, yet so smooth. It almost felt like leather. His hand hooked over the top of it, maybe half a meter above his head, and squeezed the material. It was a really tough leather. Gavin's heart pounded in his chest as he followed the curve of the structure up and up, his eyes finally coming to rest on the scene above him. 

He realized he was looking at a person, he was looking up at Michelle—but she was colossal, her size beyond comprehension. He wasn’t even as tall as her combat boots. He had shrunk, somehow, in some way. Rosa and Sophia must have also shrunk. They did not simply disappear. Whatever happened to them, though, it hadn’t affected Michelle. His eyes trailed upward.

The sleek, firm curve of her calves was accented by the shadows cast by the light above. Michelle's skin was pale, and it glowed ethereally under the overhead light. The faintest dusting of downy hair glistened along her calves, their presence a gentle reminder of the living organism that utterly dwarfed him.

His head craned further, still throbbing with pain, and his eyes rose up her legs, passing over her knobbled, skinny knees. Her thighs were sculpted and toned, a total testament to being on tour, which left a sizable gap between them. She was wearing a red thong. It barely concealed her contours and disappeared between her heavy cheeks, partially visible and framed behind her thighs.

As his eyes traced Michelle’s curves and valleys, the gravity of his situation hit him. He was minute, no larger than a toy. He was at her mercy, insignificant compared to her immense form.

In the midst of his horror, he was struck by a near-divine sense of awe. Michelle was beautiful. Her body was a monument; a place of worship. Gavin fell to his knees. She was majestic and terrifying in her enormity. The subtle ripple of muscle beneath her skin and the sleek lines of her body were distinct as well as every individual hair and the outlines of minuscule pores. Her skirt pooled at her waist, like a black waterfall from her hips. It poured more and more to the Earth, the fabric pooling around her boots. He shuffled out of the way to avoid the falling skirt.

Her crotch was getting closer, her round thighs spreading further apart, the same with her glutes. If not for the thin strip of fabric, he would be able to view straight into her asshole. The thing strained against her vulva. 

As she crouched, Gavin felt so small, insignificant compared to her grandeur. If she continued to move, if she were to sit on the ground… her thick ass would make short work of him. He paused, somehow the thought of her merely crouching was more paralyzing than the fear of being crushed. He couldn’t bring himself to move away. The sheer reverence he felt in this presence was intoxicating. This was a living person, a stranger, crouching and towering above him like a goddess. She was so beautiful.

As her knees locked into place, he remembered Sophia and Rosa. Gavin looked around, his heart hammering in his chest. He couldn’t see them. His gaze darted around the expanse of the park path which now appeared more like a vast crag of stones. Panic, like a swarm of insects skittering around in his skull, breached his shock as the gravity of his situation began to fully register.

He made a break for the grass, out from the tantalizing view from underneath her. Looking back, he saw Michelle towering above him, her lips curled into a coy smile. Her colossal hand reached toward him. Fingers, each the size of a tree trunk, descended and he was scooped up like a doll. He squirmed in her grasp. She responded by squeezing him tighter, and he grunted in pain. He was securely ensnared, held captive by the colossal woman.

Michelle stood back up. Gavin watched as the ground rushed away at dizzying speed. His stomach churned at the height and he closed his eyes, bracing himself.

Exhaling deeply, he opened his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. In Michelle’s other hand were two miniature human bodies. Sophia was one of them, he recognized her by the legs which were plainly visible sticking out from the clenched fist. Gavin couldn’t see her head. Rosa, jammed between the giantess’ middle and ring finger, had her face contorted with fear, her legs dangled out from the palm of the hand. 

"Gavin! Gavin! What the hell is going on!?" Rosa's shrill voice pierced the air, barely audible against the pounding of Gavin's heartbeat in his own ears. He tried to call back out to her, but all that escaped his lips was a hoarse whisper. His chest felt too constricted. Heat radiated in from all around and he was sweating. He wished he could wipe the moisture from his brow that was now pooling into his eyes.

Michelle peered at the tiny, wriggling people in her hands with curiosity. "Oh my, look at you squirm," she cooed, the timbre of her voice creating a sensation that pulsed through Gavin's entire body. "You look like little worms, how cute!" She laughed, and it was like a thunderous rumble that made Gavin flinch. “Ugh, maybe worms aren’t the best comparison.”

A rush of adrenaline propelled Gavin into action. He fought against Michelle's grip, but it was as futile as wrestling with a mountain. His attempts were met with a squeeze from the giantess, accompanied by a breathy chuckle. "Don't bother struggling, it's only going to tire you out. And you'll need all your energy for what's coming next."

He could feel the dread congealing in his throat. His heart pounded like a desperate, caged bird, its frantic rhythm mirrored by Rosa and Sophia’s rapid, pointless movements. Rosa's panicked eyes met his, her mouth spasming open and closed. She could be screaming silently for help, or perhaps just gasping for ragged breaths. Sophia's body was hidden within Michelle’s enormous fingers, but he could her legs. They kicked uselessly, her bare feet pawing at the empty air.

He wanted to reassure them, to tell them that everything would be okay, but the words caught in his throat, suffocated by fear. He had never felt so small, so powerless.

Michelle began to move, her long strides causing the world around Gavin to blur in a nauseating whirl of color. She slowly unfurled her hand, giving Gavin room to breathe. He fell into Michelle’s opening palm and took a few precious moments to catch his breath. Rosa fell toward him, and her denim-clad bottom slammed into his face. They were both quickly entrapped as Michelle's fingers tightened around him once more.

***

After she shifted the brunette girl to her other hand, she deftly removed the packaging from this other woman with her index and thumb. She pleaded, her voice rising to a terrified scream, “Please, don't do this. Please leave my clothes on, please. What are you going to do to us?” 

Ripping the thin blue jeans from her body, Michelle replied, “Sorry, tinies taste better naked.” The torn fabric blew away, like any discarded scrap caught in the wind

Michelle’s eyes fell on the woman, just for a moment. She quickly snapped off her bra and boy shorts, rendering the tiny nude. Sophia’s eyes were wide with terror, and she was babbling and screaming over and over. Michelle’s gaze softened for a moment, not exactly out of pity, but because her heart swelled with admiration for the tiny thing. 

“Relax, it’s going to be okay,” she cooed, her voice a low, throaty purr that made Sophia freeze in her grasp. Her giant thumb brushed against Sophia's thigh, causing the small woman to flinch. "You're going to enjoy this," she assured her, her tone carrying a trace of mockery.

Pausing, Michelle gazed down at the miniature woman with a blend of amusement and hunger. She enjoyed this part, the anticipation before the first taste. The woman's body trembled in Michelle’s grasp, her whimpers barely audible. Sophia looked so vulnerable, so tiny compared to her. She felt like a goddess, and they were mere mortal sacrifices begging for her mercy. It made her feel powerful.

Michelle’s mouth slowly opened. Sophia's whimpers escalated into frantic pleas, but they were muffled as Michelle drew her closer to her lips. Her struggling became more frantic, but it was too late. Her head squeezed between Michelle’s puckered lips, then the rest of her was pushed inside.

Michelle’s tongue explored the girl’s body for a few seconds. The taste of salt and oil commingling on her tongue. When the taste began to fade, she tilted her head back and swallowed.

It was exquisite, the feeling of the small woman wriggling down her throat. She swallowed again, feeling Sophia's struggles weaken as she descended deeper into her body. This one was a fighter, too. She would bounce around inside her for the walk back at least.

Her free hand instinctively went down to her belly, caressing it gently. “I am a little sorry, but I perform better if I have this little ritual. A few snackrifices before I play really gets me in the mood. Aaaand I hate to go on stage with an empty stomach,” she glanced down at the other two squirming in her fist, “but I swear it’s mostly the ritual.”

***

Gavin seethed and struggled in Michelle’s hand, his heart throbbing with such agony. Sophia’s heart-wrenching screams had abruptly ceased, replaced by Rosa’s wails, her entire body shaking in terror. Her shorts absorbed Gavin’s own tears as he strained against Michelle’s fingers. Each fibre of his being yearned to be free and confront the monstrous giantess. He clenched his teeth. It would be useless to scream, and he wanted to conserve his energy for any potential escape routes.

The giantess had called them as "snackrifices."Refusing to accept what it implied, he could not bear to think Sophia had actually been consumed. It was unthinkable; Michelle couldn't have eaten Sophia. He struggled again, in vain. Michelle squeezed them tighter and he found himself pressed closer to Rosa, the rough material of her shorts scratching against his face uncomfortably. Despite the fear and panic enthralling him, he noted the heat intensifying in the closed space, sweat making his face slick.

Michelle led the way, shrunken folk in hand, her boot crunching the gravel as she walked to the back of a beat-up old van parked in an alley. The vehicle had clearly seen better days, its paint faded and chipped in several spots. Its only source of real pride was a fresh sticker that read “MICROCOSM DOOM” slapped onto the rear bumper, next to a second sticker shaped like a deer skull. She opened the rear doors to the van and climbed inside, spotting someone as she did.

“Hey Rachel,” she said. “Almost ready?” Michelle shuffled the two tinies in her grip, trying to obscure them. Gavin cried in pain as his body constricted, clenched tighter against Rosa’s.

“Oh yeah,” the other regular-sized woman replied, “I’m about to head out for a drink, and we’ve got soundcheck in twenty. Will you be ready by then?”

“Of course. Have I ever been late?” Michelle slapped Rachel on the rear as she passed by.

Rachel jumped the short distance from the van to the ground and started to slowly close the doors, “Hurry up, alright? I want to buy you a drink.”

Michelle smiled to herself as the doors slammed shut. She almost skipped to the broken amp near the back of the van and started stripping down the shrunken people. Once they were fully nude, she dropped them into a jar on top of the amp. Her eyes didn’t leave them until they stood back up and struggled against the glass walls, then she turned away from them.

The giantess loomed above them. Rosa whimpered, "Sophia... she... she's inside..." The brunette's voice was weak and filled with despair. “She ate Sophia.” The tiny woman shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Gavin stared down at her, his sight and mind blurring out of focus.

Gavin reached a hand around Rosa to comfort her, while he tried to process what she said. Sophia was gone, swallowed whole by this towering woman. He choked, involuntarily releasing a groan of loss. He sniffed. As Rosa turned into him, Gavin ran his fingers through her hair and cooed, “It’s going to be alright. We’ll be okay.” He did not sound anywhere near calm.

Michelle sauntered away from them, focusing her attention on a duffel bag tossed aside. Gavin noted it was slathered with patches, probably logos of other bands, but he couldn’t make out their names at the distance. Their designs weren’t helping, since each was in dramatic, overblown font. She bent over to unzip it, her back arching, her hips turned toward the prisoners. From the bag she pulled a long black dress. Her fingers ran over it, feeling its smooth velvety texture.

With a swift motion, she pulled her band tee over her head. Her alabaster back was surprisingly well-muscled, and decorated by an array of tattoos. The largest of them, a floral pattern, ran up her spine and over her shoulder before flowing down her arm.

She turned. Her breasts were petite, barely a handful yet firm. Her nipples were tiny points in the cool air of the van, their brown color a stark contrast against her skin. The muscles in her abdomen flexed and relaxed as she moved, her slender hips swaying seductively as she began to change into her outfit for the night's performance.

They both recoiled in terror; Rosa buried her face into Gavin’s chest and wailed. Sophia was within that wall of soft, pale flesh, and both tinies feared the same fate awaited them.

Topless, Michelle grabbed a guitar case and popped it open. A four-string bass, matte black, was inside, and she retrieved it gently. She sat back on a stool set up in the van and strummed on it a few times, the body of the guitar just under her breasts. When she seemed content, she set it aside and began undoing the straps holding up her skirt.

It was a chilling realization that rocketed down his spine that he knew nothing about this woman other than she played bass for a band he'd never heard of. Yet now he found himself in a most intimate and perilous situation, trapped in a glass with Rosa while Sophia was... his mind shied away from finishing that thought. It was too grotesque, too horrifying to contemplate. 

"Shh, Rosa, it's alright" Gavin whispered, pressing her tightly against him. They were both naked, but their shared terror drowned out any sense of lust he felt toward her. He looked around the glass prison, eyes darted to the woman, then back at Rosa. They were trapped in a nightmare, and escape seemed impossible. Gavin swallowed nervously, his eyes helplessly drawn to Michelle while she continued to ignore their presence.

Without missing a beat, she bent over and unzipped her boots, kicking them to the cluttered floor of the van with a dull thud. Her skirt dropped after them. Michelle straightened up again, now in nothing but her red thong that starkly contrasted against her pale skin. The front of it dipped low, teasing the V between her legs. Her hips swayed as she moved, the thin strip of fabric in the back was nestled between the firm globes of her ass.

Rosa's sobbing had ceased, but she still clung to Gavin tightly. Both were entranced by the giantess' movements, captivated by the routine simplicity with which she dressed herself, as though this were just another day, another gig, another meal. He felt a primal tug in his belly as he watched her change. She was a predator, dangerous and alluring in equal measure.  Michelle stood tall and proud in her underwear, her body a canvas of toned muscles and pale skin. 

Meanwhile, Michelle turned away from them, moving toward the black dress she had set aside. With careful, almost reverent movements, she unfolded it, revealing its high neckline and the high slit up one side. She pulled it on, the velvet material hugging her slender frame and accentuating her curves. The dress clung onto her slim figure like a second skin, draping over her slender hips and falling to her mid-thigh. The high slit revealed her long, toned legs. Flames of blue and red light from the van's interior added a glow to her pale skin, highlighting the sensual contours of her form. The velvet material shimmered under the light, adding an air of mystique to her allure.

Once Michelle had finished dressing, she pulled out her phone and used the camera to examine her outfit. Her fingers traced the sides of her body, a satisfied smile curling her lips as she admired herself. The neckline of the dress was high, reaching just below her neck, but the back plunged low, giving a tantalizing revelation of her pale back. The floral tattoo running down her spine that seemed to move with every curve and shift of her body. The outfit was complete with a set of black leather boots that reached just below her knees.

Satisfied with her appearance, she turned her attention back to the jar, languidly drawing closer with predatory interest. She was not oblivious to their fear, "Don't worry, my little snacks," she said with a smirk, her voice a low purr. "The show's about to start; it won’t be much longer now." A wave of fear washed over Gavin at her words, and he felt Rosa shiver against him.

Their shared terror was palpable in the glass jar. Racked with dread, Rosa clung tighter to Gavin, her slender body trembling against his. He grappled with a pang of fear, intense and visceral, but tried to ground himself for Rosa's sake. His arms tightened around her protectively, an instinctual response. He could feel the rhythmic pounding of her tiny heart against his chest, echoing the terrible heavy beat of Michelle’s footsteps on the metal floor. 

She loomed over them, and a sense of reverence welled within Gavin. He couldn’t help but regard Michelle with awe; she had complete dominion over them. His gaze fell upon the curvaceous landscape of her body that Sophia now resided within. The thought both terrified and sickened him. His girlfriend, inside this towering deity-like woman. She breathed heavily into the jar, the humidity filling the container like a fog.

Michelle reached towards the jar, her fingers curling around Rosa’s body. Before the girl could react, the large fingers seized her around the waist, pried her away from Gavin, and yanked her from the jar. Gavin lunged at the retreating hand, but he was too late. His fingertips brushed, but failed to grasp, Rosa’s petite feet as Michelle scooped her away.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of the van. Michelle jumped in shock. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath while glancing at her phone, “it’s time for soundcheck.” Rachel echoed back, "Hey, Michelle, soundcheck's about to start. You ready?"

Michelle called back, “Sorry Rachel, I’ll be right there,” she scrambled to pick up her bass. There was no time to clean it. “Ugh, I’m sorry. Let me get you a drink after.”

“Deal,” the sweet voice came from outside the van. “Anything I can help with?”

“Nah, I’m good.” 

Meanwhile, Rosa continued to kick and squirm in her firm grip as Michelle popped the van doors open and stepped gracefully out. Her fingers curled inward, enclosing Rosa in her fis All three girls disappeared with the heavy sound of the van door closing, leaving Gavin behind.

It was chilling, Gavin thought, how casual and blithe the mood within the van was, belying the sinister reality behind Michelle’s performance rituals. The dread was a noose tightening around his throat, the finality of his situation settling in the pit of his stomach. His breath hitched in his throat. Rosa was gone now. Soon it would be him.

***

Soon after the sound check, Michelle returned to the van where she had left Gavin alone with his burgeoning dread.. She clutched a bottle of water, which she promptly downed and discarded into a rubbish heap at one corner of the van. Then, fixing her paralyzing gaze back onto him, Michelle reached for the jar. Without much preamble, her fingers curled around his body. A shiver of terror ran down Gavin's spine as he was plucked from the glass confines, her firm grip enfolding him into her hand. He tried to push the fingers away, and prevent them from closing around him. An ultimately pointless gesture.

She held him high up, near her face, studying him with an impassive expression. "Did you miss me?" she asked, chuckling under her breath when Gavin tried to push her fingers away weakly. It made no difference, she could squish him without effort if she chose to. She kept her grip secure, yet not crushing

“I kind of hate this, you know; I really hope the others don’t think I’m in here doing drugs or something,” she examined his nude body, her eyes barely flickering as she took him all in. “Maybe I should come up with a better system instead of grabbing whatever easy randoms off the street I could find.”

Gavin ignored her and instead tried not to focus on the enticing curve of her lips or the way her tongue swam languidly over them, moistening them before she spoke again. It was so quiet. His heart beat up into his throat and he could hear the whir of an air conditioner outside. Her perfume, like the smell of lavender and decaying leaves, wafted down to him.

"Don't worry, this will be over soon." She lifted him above her head.

Her voice was deep, intimate. The sound of it vibrated through him, and he swallowed the bile that rose up in his throat. A sudden wave of dizziness hit him then, whether from fear or the impossible altitude he was not sure.

Below him, Michelle grinned, seemingly enjoying his discomfort. The tip of her tongue peeked out, gently flicking over her lower lip. He watched, fascinated and terrified, as the pink tip disappeared once again behind their full confines. "It's going to happen," she murmured, almost soothingly, as if that made any difference to his fate.

Her hand lowered, her warm breath washing over him. Gavin tried to wriggle free, but her grip tightened. A wave of nausea churned over him as her lips parted. Her maw smelled of alcohol, sweets, and cigarettes, which comingled with the perfume. It pushed it hair upwards like a strong wind and splattered him with fine particulates of saliva. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have wanted to kiss her, and now the prospect felt like a death sentence.

Beyond her lips was a black void framed by cherry cola lipstick. The pink uvula dangled above the void. His frail body hovered above her lolling tongue. The tip of her tongue emerged from the darkness, sticking out beyond her lips in anticipation. The sight of the smooth, pink muscle was stupefying, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. This is what Sophia saw before she was devoured; before she entered this nightmarish, organic cavern. He was bound to join her, and Rosa, within Michelle, each of them digested and turned into nutrients.

Her tongue lapped against him, a slick, firm pressure that explored his body with languid curiosity. Each flick of her tongue sent jolts of panic coursing down his spine. His skin prickled with goosebumps under her attention, and the warmth of her saliva in contrast to the air. The tongue retracted, creating a glistening trail down his body. Michelle parted her lips wide before clamping them around Gavin, an immense but soft pressure sealed around him. 

Light trickled in between her lips, which squeezed his torso and slowly pulled it inward. He was lost, all his focus on the primal allure of Michelle's wide, inviting mouth. The sight was hauntingly beautiful and horrifying, a dark abyss promising only death. Her white teeth, slick with saliva, glistened in the van light. Michelle’s fingertip pushed against his feet, forcing him deeper into her maw. His knees scraped against her front teeth, opening a bleeding wound down his shins. A low, bassy moan shook his skeleton.

***

Michelle savored each moment as she guided the diminutive man completely into her mouth, she revelled in the sensation it provided; his futile attempts to hold his ground were thrilling. With him pressed against her cheek, she swung open the van doors, relishing the cold kiss of the night air on her exposed skin – her last bout of solitude before the rush of the concert. Gavin's taste was unexpectedly delightful, his futile rebellions intoxicating. Her heart pounded. She made a mental note to collect more men in the future.

She felt him try to stand, but she tripped him with her tongue and pushed him to the side of her cheek. Her tongue lathered his legs, over his back. This one was especially salty, probably because she had let him marinate for a good period. Michelle pushed the tiny tightly against her cheek and swallowed, savouring his flavour, before letting him rest again on her tongue. When it felt like he had no fight left in him, she tossed him to the roof of his mouth and allowed him to slide down.

***

Gavin's fear multiplied tenfold as he was enveloped by the slick, warm interior of Michelle's mouth. His entire world was the oppressive humidity, the hypnotic rhythm of Michelle's heartbeat resonating around him, and the weight of his reality bearing down on him. He could barely breathe, each inhale filled with the sickly sweet scent of menthol cigarettes. 

Before he could orient himself, her tongue moved, slamming the back of his head against her teeth. For one sickening moment, he envisioned Michelle decapitating him, masticating his body into a gory mess, but she tossed him over and into her vestibule. Grinding him against her cheek, he felt every bump, every nick in the smooth flesh. More saliva poured into his nose and mouth, nearly choking him. 

She gently pushed him toward the center of her mouth. Gavin breathed a sigh of relief.

He began to slide. A new wave of panic washed over him, he scrambled against the slippery surface, back toward her slightly parted lips, but it yielded nothing. She hummed a contented sound, relishing his futile thrashing. His breath hitched in his throat as he was nudged against the back of her mouth, the slick surface of her throat gaping wide before him.

The temperature rose. The awareness of what was about to happen was sharp, cutting into him. He pushed out a muffled scream, but his plea for mercy was lost in the cavernous expanse of her oral cavity. He was nothing but an afterthought in here, a snack to savour before her show. He could feel her throat pulsate near his feet. Sophia and Rosa were down there, somewhere, being digested. He had the vanishingly rational hope they were alright.

In one smooth motion, Michelle swallowed. His stomach flipped, his heart hammering in his chest as he was sucked into the narrow confines of her throat. His body was squeezed mercilessly, the pressure so immense it forced the air from his lungs. There was only a sensation of descending, of succumbing to gravity. His screams turned silent as he was forcefully pushed down, down, and swallowed.

***

Michelle hummed a tune. With a sigh, she sealed her lips and Gavin's fate. Her hand moved absently to her throat, fingers gently pressing against her skin as if feeling the bulge of his figure travel downwards. His struggles could be felt, the faintest flutter against her fingers, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

Her hand dropped after a while, her fingers running over her stomach instead, pulling at the tight fabric, a small smile played at her lips. That man was trapped inside of her now, just like the two women from earlier. The thought sent a black thrill of pleasure coursing through her veins. She could feel it - the ritual would be a success again, and their concert would be righteous, fueled by her dark magic and the lives of the three shrunken people. Giggling, she noted she couldn’t even remember their names or if she even asked for them. These nameless souls would soon join the graveyard in her belly, along with the dozen or so others before them. She giggled again, but at the fact she couldn’t remember how many she had eaten.

***

As Gavin slipped further down Michelle’s throat, he was vaguely aware of the contracting walls around him. His body flailed helplessly against the fleshy tube, his screams echoed in the suffocating darkness. The slide downwards seemed to go forever, the sensation of falling into an abyssal hell dominating his senses.

Desperately, he reached out around him, trying to find something to grab onto, but it was pointless. The esophagus was a slick, treacherous slide that offered no purchase. The space grew tighter the further he fell, the overwhelming stench of bile and remnants of her other victims pressing against him from all sides.

A hard, sudden drop made him cry out, but the sound was drowned in the gurgling rush of liquid that welcomed him. His body was plunged into a boiling, stinging pool, and for a moment he was weightless, bobbing at the surface of this living, heaving pool. A searing pain erupted all over his skin as the gastric acids began their relentless assault. He screamed, the sound mixing with the sloshing symphony of the stomach.

Gavin’s world had become a nauseating soundscape— the constant churning of Michelle’s belly, the slow, rhythmic pulsing of her breath, and the thunderous poundings of her heart. The noises were interspersed with the occasional gush of liquid, intermittent yet powerful muscular contractions that sent him tumbling in all directions.

Everything was warm, so warm it hurt. He was swallowed, deposited in here, and doomed to stay. His screams ebbed away into strangled moans, his throat raw and voice hoarse from the acidic fumes. The endless roll of the stomach was merciless, a vortex that tossed him about with ease. Caught in the organic tide, Gavin scrabbled against the slick walls, and struggled to stay afloat, but the effort was futile. His skin burnt; the acid seeped into his gasping lungs and scorched his eyes. Panic gave way to pure, primal fear. He was going to be digested alive.

An impact shook him from his self-pity and horror. Gavin squinted through the acidic haze, making out a dim figure – a figure that distinctly resembled Rosa. Seeing her was a ray of hope amidst the desolate surroundings – a familiar presence, both comforting and devastating. Her wide eyes, pupils dilated with shock, mirrored his own fear.

She moved closer, gripping his hand with a strength that surprised him. Her fingers were burnt, skin peeled away in places, but her grip was insistent, almost bruising. "Gavin," she croaked, voice thin and strangled against the burning acids breaking them down.

He could only return her grip, nodding his head slightly to indicate he heard her. It was easier to focus on her, to meet her gaze, and face their bleak fate together than to succumb to the madness encroaching on his thoughts. The ends of her hair were frayed, chunks burned off by the acid. She looked at him, her eyes seeking reassurance, any sign that they’d survive. He tried to force a smile onto his blistering lips, but he was certain that it was unconvincing. Worse, he doubted she could see it. The stomach growled and convulsed, slamming the two into one another. Gavin held onto her.

“Sophia’s here,” Rosa said, her voice raspy and broken. 

“Sophia?" Gavin's eyes widened, burning to the environment, his heart pounding with a new surge of urgency. "Where is she? Is she...?" He didn't need to complete the sentence. The acid that was nibbling at his hair and skin, causing awful pain, had most likely reduced his girlfriend to slag.

Rosa shook her head. Her eyes filled with tears, undoubtedly from the pain and acidic fumes. "She's… she's…" Her voice caught, suddenly hoarse. Her body lurched and her eyes rolled back.

"Rosa," he managed to choke out despite his raw throat. "We have to do something."

She did not respond.

Michelle's stomach lurched, tossing Gavin and Rosa like ragdolls. Something was happening, something that sent tremors reverberating through the giantess's body, but what? His question was answered a moment later by a distant, muffled sound, like the rumble of thunder.

It echoed again, closer this time, and Gavin registered a pattern, an ebb and flow to the noise. It was music, not just random noises coalescing into meaningless sounds but a rhythm. They were in the middle of the concert, he soon realized, but it was impossibly surreal to wrap his head around that fact. The grim reality of Michelle, likely on the stage outside, manipulating the strings of her bass while they swam in her stomach, slammed into him. The sound was muffled, but barely. It reverberated through the flesh and forced waves of bile to wash over them.

***

Beneath the concert stage's multicolored canopy of lights, Michelle emerged as a radiant figure, the glow painting her in ethereal tones and casting stark shadows that rendered the teeming crowd faceless. The world around her oscillated between the hollow darkness of the auditorium and the blinding burst of luminescence.

Every strum of the bass, each flick of her wrist sent waves that echoed through the amphitheatre. The sound, heavy, throbbing pulsated through her, the rhythm of the song dictating her motion. On stage, she was a goddess, commanding and giving life to a small crowd of headbanging souls.

She was lost in the music now, in its swoops and swells, her fingers sliding effortlessly over the strings of her matte black bass. It was as if she had melded with the instrument, their connection beyond the physical, deep, almost primal. Her breath matched the rhythm of each beat; she relished the vibrations of the bass that resonated against her belly and between her thighs. The thrill of the tinies’ struggles was drowned out, swallowed by the primal energy the music summoned.

Beneath the shower of spotlight that accentuated her pale, sweat-slicked skin, beneath all the raucous sound, the thumping music, the roaring crowd, knowing she had actual, living people giving everything to her... It was a secret that twisted in the pit of her belly, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her veins with each kick and thrash.

Mid-song, Michelle took a moment to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down the side of her face. Looking out into the crowd, she couldn't help but let out a small, satisfied sigh. This was what she lived for - the music, the fans, the thrill that seeped into her bones. As the music reached its peak, she allowed the rhythm to carry her away. Her fingers flew over the guitar strings. The collective scream of the crowd was the perfect accompaniment to the wild, otherworldly music. She fed on that.

***

Back inside her stomach, the visceral, digestive soundscape was overlaid by the rhythmic pulse of doom metal. Each strum of the bass sent shockwaves through the churning gastric fluids, drowning out the anguished cries of his companion. To Gavin, it felt as though each bass beat struck directly into his heart, underscoring the hopeless inevitability of his predicament.

Rosa had grown eerily quiet, the final rush of adrenaline finally ebbing away, leaving her limp and silent amidst the rolling stomach acids. Gavin struggled to keep himself conscious, but his body protested vehemently against every movement, painfully reminding him of the lethal environment he was trapped within. Agony rippled through his veins; it was a devastating mix of overwhelming fear and corrosive acid eating away at his flesh. His fingers weakly reached out for Rosa, hoping to find her hand and use her presence as a tether to reality. But when he touched her, he felt the skin of her palm slipping, and with a gasp of horror, he realized that it was because her skin was literally pulling away in clumps. He snapped his hand back, succumbing to the horror lurking in his mind. The realization ripped a sob from his throat, a hollow, pitiful sound muffled in the heated, thick air around him. His body was lead, skin searing with each lashing wave of acid. The bile kept forcing his way into his throat, and he tried again to call out for Rosa. A strangled gasp churned from his acid-filled lungs. All noise around him was swallowed by the relentless roar of Michelle's stomach, the same bass beats that received cheers of adoration now serving as the macabre soundtrack to their demise. Sophia had been lucky.

Feeling himself slipping into unconsciousness, Gavin closed his eyes, or what remained of them. His body felt heavy, aching and numb from the unceasing assault of her stomach's contents. The final beats of the song echoed ominously around him, a strange undercurrent to his torment. The music was distant, distorted but he could still feel the powerful thrum of it vibrating through the stomach walls. His consciousness ebbed away with the growing intensity of his surroundings, each pulsed beat — each surge of deathly heat bringing him a step closer to oblivion.

The chemicals gnawed at him and invaded his senses until all he knew was pain. Every inch of his blistered body was raw, skin peeling away to reveal pink, tender flesh underneath. His nerves screamed with each new surge of acid, each minor shift in his surroundings. Each beat of the music, the rhythmic thud inside Michelle's body, felt like a drum inside his head. Dimly, he became aware that her stomach was contracting again and with a shudder of terror he realized that Michelle was singing. Her melodic vocals filtered down to comfort his melting eardrums, a heartless relief from the agony. He could not make out the words.

As her part ended and the relentless beat assailed him again, despair gripped him in its iron claws. It begged him to surrender, and, for what felt like the first time in hours, he allowed himself to feel the devastating emotional toll of his predicament. He was dying – slowly, painfully, consumed and digested by some alt girl he didn’t even know. Gavin laughed, or tried to. There would be no rescue, no last-minute salvation, just the breakdown of his body.

His mind turned to Sophia, the woman he had promised his heart to. He imagined her by his side, imagined her smile, her laughter, the warmth of her embrace. The memory was a tangible pain in his chest, a stark reminder of his reality. When the fetid dark engulfed him again, he went willingly, grateful for the escape from his relentless agony.

***

Her voice ascended, a sacrilegious hymn bouncing off the bare walls of the dingy venue. Her fingers strummed the bass with practiced ease, each thrum sending a charged vibration coursing through her body, magnified by the tiny tremors of fear and despair from deep within her gut. 

Each note she played, each lyric she delivered, was laced with eldritch power. As the final tiny perished inside her, Michelle felt unstoppable. She played perfectly, immaculately. Each strum of her bass reverberated within her, shook her jaw and bones. There was nothing in the world but her fingers, the steel, and the wood.

As the last notes of the song reverberated through the Penny Lane Pub, Michelle stood triumphant, her arms raised high above her head as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. The vibrations beneath her feet felt like power, like magic, and she was the one controlling all of it. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, her heart pounding in sync with the echoes of the final beat of the song.

She looked out at the people before her, her populace, their faces upturned and eyes glowing with admiration. The three tinies she had eaten before the show made the ritual go swimmingly: everyone loved them. The dark twisted pleasure rose within her; the one secret they, the crowd, bandmates, even Rachel, wouldn't understand. Not yet anyway. She would eventually reveal everything to Rachel, at least. She took a bow, enjoying the last moments of temporary fame before she would have to retreat offstage.

After the final echoes of the concert died down, Michelle made her way offstage, her exhilaration slowly replaced by creeping exhaustion. She let the torrent of praises and compliments from her band members wash over her, and returned them in kind, as she retreated to the merch table.

The table was littered with shirts, posters, badges, and various other memorabilia, each boasting the band's logo or some variation of it. Michelle took her spot behind it, fielding questions and exchanging pleasantries with fans who came up to her. One even had enough courage to ask for her number; she gave him the digits for the Chinese delivery place back home as he nervously flirted. This entire process was endearing in its own way – it grounded her to reality after the adrenaline-soaked high of the concert.

A staff member brought her a drink from an anonymous fan and assured her they were the only ones who had any hands on it. Michelle eyed it cautiously for a moment before taking a tentative sip – the last thing she needed tonight was to fall victim to some low-grade roofie. But the taste was that of a well-made whiskey sour, albeit slightly too heavy on the lemon, and she relished the savory warmth it brought.

As the crowd thinned, Michelle bought another round for herself and Rachel. The latter joined her with a broad grin on her face, satisfaction swimming in her eyes. Rachel looked as radiant as ever, her shirt clinging to her skin, a telling sign of the energy she had invested in the night's performance. Her strength, honed from years of practicing the drums, was evident. Her dark curly hair fell around her eyes, framed her white, toothy smile.

“Shoot, I owe you a drink,” Michelle stated. She quickly grabbed her whiskey and chugged it. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the drummer said as she handed Michelle a cheap beer. Michelle hadn’t even noticed she was holding it. “My treat, again.” Rachel raised her own in a small toast, "Here’s to another great gig.”

Rachel clinked her glass against Michelle's, a wide grin spread across her face. "To another great gig," she echoed, her eyes reflecting the joy they both felt. They both took a moment to sip their drinks, letting the wave of relief wash over them.

Michelle settled back in her chair, loving the bitterness of her drink. As far as nights went, it was a good one – the concert went off without a hitch, the crowd was pleased, and soon she would be heading back to a comfortable hotel room. Each gulp soothed her throat after the concert. Inwardly, she savored the digestion, certain by now that the tinies were nearly entirely dissolved. She wished she had met with Rachel earlier, eaten them sooner. A drink before the show with a squirming belly would have been nice.

“You did great tonight, Rach,” Michelle complimented earnestly, resting her head on the back. Rachel had always been a consistent drummer, never too wild, never too soft. Tonight she delivered her steady performance, keeping the beats with a rhythmic certainty that allowed Michelle to nail her own riffs.

"Thanks, Michelle. You were amazing, as always." Rachel responded, her eyes softening with the compliment, the warmth in her voice catching even Michelle slightly off guard. It was a pleasing sentiment, especially coming from her.

They basked in the tranquillity of the moment, their energetic performance reduced to an echo that was played out for the fans. There was something comforting about shared success, the knowledge that they had yet again created something extraordinary together. She felt her stomach rumble, and she badly wanted to tell Rachel at that moment, but the rumble bubbled up into a burp. The salty taste of the night’s earlier meals caught on her breath, and she excused herself.

Rachel giggled. As their eyes met, Michelle could see reflections of her own pleasure mirrored in Rachel's eyes – nothing would ever change that, she mused, not even the dark secret that birthed that pleasure. She gifted Rachel a genuine smile before finishing off her drink and swung her backpack over her shoulder. "Come on, let's head to the hotel."

The bassist packed up, bidding her temporary workplace and fans a good night. Anticipation and exhilaration made her movements languid and smooth. She assumed one of the boys would bring the van back. They took a cab to their hotel, leaning against each other, whispering soft songs under their drunken breath, laughing at nothing.

***

Overnight, while she lay curled against Rachel, Michelle’s stomach got to work, breaking down the bodies of the tinies trapped inside It felt like the slow simmering of food in a crockpot. Her prey slowly melted inside her, reduced to human-ish slag at the bottom of her stomach which was pulled into her small intestine. She sighed in her sleep as she turned toward Rachel.

Over the next few days, the energy-packed broth that was once Rosa, Gavin, and Sophia would be dispersed into her bloodstream through her intestinal walls, and transported throughout her body.  Her body’s calorific needs matched the intake quite well. Each tiny amounted to about 220 calories, and her three victims for the night matched her output from the concert. Logically, it was a fair deal, consuming some lives to sustain her own.

The concert had pushed Michelle, testing her limits. Subsequently, the nutrients absorbed from her tiny victims were a restorative elixir for her exertions. While she slept each cell of her body started its reparative process, drawing on the absorbed material to rejuvenate and renew. The burst of energy from the glucose rapidly replenished her tired muscles, aiding their recovery.

Most of the nutrients from Gavin were directed toward her strained arm and core muscles. His proteins, broken down into amino acids, facilitated the repair of muscle tissues – healing the wear and tear from an intense concert performance.

Rosa's nutrients travelled to her liver and kidneys. Her liver worked overdrive to process the alcohol, while her kidneys filtered and managed the liquid intake. Sophia's nutrients primarily catered to Michelle's legs and glutes – hours of energetic performance on stage demanded their toll.

Each individual served a purpose, their life essence contributing to Michelle's recovery and providing her with a natural, deadly form of sustenance. The bodily alchemy that absorbed, transformed, and utilized the macabre ingredients of her diet was a silent, efficient, and secret testimony to the darker side of her existence.

That morning Michelle woke bloated, but content. She blinked sleepily against the invasion of light, breath slow and steadied, limbs sprawled loosely across the covers, and her naked flesh warming in the morning light filtering lazily through the window. She turned to look at Rachel, a smile dancing on her lips as she met the girl’s intact gaze. A mild hangover added a dull palette to her otherwise lively colors, but it was swept aside when Rachel greeted her with a smile.

She took in the memory of her night, of Sophia, Gavin, and Rosa, with a heavy sigh. Traces of their remains still roamed her system, playing their parts in prep for the next gig, and the next, to fuel the woman on stage that none of those cheering fans would recognize outside the concert venue. Even though it made her uncomfortable, her distended abdomen served as a visual testament. Her triumph tasted twice as sweet given the electrifying performance and her dark secret – all while she was juggling performance and merch sales. 

“Morning, sexy,” Rachel said. “Want to shower?”

As Rachel neared, Michelle leaned in for a quick morning kiss, their bodies still warm and deliciously tangled. Their lips met, the touch was soft and inviting, a tender promise whispered under the crest of dawn.

She belched abruptly, heavy and resonant, was a remnant of last night's grotesque indulgence – a raucous, impromptu interruption to their intimate moment. Twinging embarrassment shadowed her features as Rachel pulled away, laughter bubbling up in her throat at the unexpected event. The taste of the burp, faint and acidic, reminded Michelle uncomfortably of the consumed trio. It was enticingly macabre but put a pang of guilt in her stomach. She knew it would all be worth it, though. Last night proved that.

"Sorry, sorry. Excuse me," she muttered. Rachel laughed in turn, the sound of it echoing in their shared space, warmth and mischief intertwined. Michelle replied, “I’d love to shower,” and lifted herself out of bed.

The people digesting within her were already fading from memory. She couldn’t remember what they looked like – that memory was replaced by the visual stimulation of Rachel’s swaying figure and jiggling ass as she led her to the shower. Their identities were irrelevant now, their forms long since reduced to indistinguishable sludge. For her, they were faceless sources of energy, tools for her success. And tasty snacks.

Both Michelle and Rachel entered the bathroom, the warm water cascading over them. It washed away the sweat and grime of the previous night, carrying it down the drain in a cleansing cascade. Michelle closed her eyes and leaned into the heated spray; it was a physical and metaphorical purge. The tinies from the night before were likely already leaving her body as perspiration. As soon as the final traces of her victims would leave her body, she would forget about them completely. 

While the hot water sizzled against their skin, they laughed and shared soft whispers, their hands exploring one another and their lips meeting amidst the veil of steam. Their shared laughter echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the white, moist tiles shattering any remnants of guilt that may have haunted Michelle.

As Rachel ran soap against Michelle's back, washing away the invisible grime left from the previous night, Michelle reached down and claimed a kiss from her. It was a gentle press of lips at first, but it quickly amplified into something deeper. Rachel’s hands explored her hips, then between her thighs.

Michelle gasped, “Hey, stop that,” but she made no motion to pull away.

This was her life now. The thrilling performances, the sea of faces in the crowd, the unending road from one city to another - and Rachel. Michelle was starting to understand the realities of touring life. Her sleep had barely been restful. By the end of the day, they would be on the road again. Tomorrow, another city awaited, and with it, another performance, another ritual, and another crowd to please. She knew she couldn’t do it alone.

As she grabbed Rachel’s greedy hand, she placed it on her belly and whispered, “Hey Rachel, can I tell you a secret?”

FIN