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Warning and disclaimer: This story contains extremely graphic violence and sexuality. If you are offended by descriptions of intense violence and sadism, you are encouraged to stop reading this now. You have been warned.

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_Liz: Hell Hath No Fury_
(Part I)
by the Poison Pen
copyright 1997


Though here the heart its anguish has to smother,
In Heaven its sufferings aloud are cried.
God's vengeance comes at last in recompense,
And punishment, though tardy, is immense.

-- Ludovico Ariosto, "Orlando Furioso"




Liz ran through the checklist her father had left beside the computer, making sure all the tell-tales were green. She had no idea what any of them meant, but she had seen her father using it often enough to have the run-down almost by heart. It wouldn't do to make a mistake at this point.

The computer gave a cheerful chirp to indicate that all systems were online and functioning. Liz ran her fingers through her tousled, uncombed mass of dark brown hair and lowered herself into the chair before the terminal that operated the bank of sophisticated processors. The computer offered her the geopositional targetting system, but of course she had no accurate numbers to feed it. Instead, she used the visual mode, scrolling through the digitized map of the city.

There. That was the spot. Liz etched a rectangle onto the map with the mouse, and there was a pause while the computer began working on the fiendishly difficult calculations necessary for it to perform its amazing task. She leaned back in the chair and rubbed at her irritated eyes, red- rimmed from crying.

Liz turned to look at the receiver bed's flat, antiseptic steel plating. Walls which could be raised and lowered were set up and locked in place at twelve inches, all around the edge of the empty receiver bed. The overhead lights banished all shadow, and made the bare, brushed steel gleam. At six feet across, the square bed took up most of the space in the basement computer lab, something Liz's mother grumbled about constantly.

The computer gave its friendly chirp again, and a window popped up on the screen, asking for a ratio. Liz thought briefly, and tapped in the number fifteen on the keyboard. That would give a ratio of fifteen to one. There was another brief pause, and huge lettering appeared on the screen:

analysis complete
ratio 15:1
proceed? (y/n)

Her finger rested lightly on the 'y' key. Once she pressed it, there would be no turning back, no backing out. The events of the day previous came back to her in a rush.

Liz had been betrayed. Ashley, her best friend, had found her diary while visiting, and stolen it. It wasn't her current diary, so Liz hadn't even realized it was missing until... Liz ground her teeth and a tear was squeezed from her eye. The taunts from her classmates and from people she thought were her friends echoed through her mind. "Liz the lez," they called her. Liz had known she preferred girls for years, and Ashley had read about her dreams, her fantasies, her unrequited needs. And Ashley had been disgusted. Because more than one of those fantasies had been about her.

It hadn't taken long for word of the diary to spread through school. At sixteen, the damage seemed monstrous to Liz, unstoppable. The whispering, the sniggering, the lewd looks from the boys; and when she discovered that they had been passing photocopies of some of the 'juicier' pages from her diary, Liz had fled the school in tears.

Her parents, of course, hadn't even noticed. Liz had moped sullenly around the house while the two of them had run through experiment after experiment down here. Her father was in charge of the project that had created the wondrous invention she now sat before, and her mother had been his secretary for years, even before the two had been married. Liz knew there were less than ten people in the world who knew about the discovery, all of them employed by the same corporation her parents worked for. The implications of the device were so incredible, so far-reaching, that a complete security blanket had been lowered over the project. Not even the government knew that it existed.

Liz bit her lower lip. She knew what she planned was very, very wrong, but her heart cried out for retribution. Blanking her mind, Liz pressed the key. It was done.

Ashley watched the two young teens at the back of the store, a
boy and what looked like his girlfriend, closely. They had been
in the store almost a half an hour, and hadn't bought anything.
Ashley guessed by the way they kept sneaking glances at her that
they were waiting for her attention to drift so they could shoplift
something. Ashley was in a foul mood and if those punks didn't
clear out soon, she was going to tell them to get lost.

Damn Liz anyway, thought Ashley, accurately guessing the cause of
her gloom. She hadn't planned on making a laughing stock of Liz
the way she had, but that stuff in Liz's diary was just too gross.
When Ashley had discovered her friend's sexual leanings in the
book, at first she had been tittilated. That quickly turned to
disgust when Ashley found long, detailed descriptions of the
perverted things Liz had wanted to do with her.

Still, Ashley hadn't intended for things to go as far as they
had. She had loaned the diary to a few people and the next thing
she knew, everyone in the school seemed to have photocopies from
it. Liz had endured some pretty mean teasing, and Ashley felt a
little guilty. She was also a little nervous. Before Liz had
run from the school yesterday in tears, she had shot Ashley a
look of such venomous, icy hatred that Ashley had felt a shivery
thrill of fear.

A woman entered the store and went back to the cooler at the other
end of the store. Suddenly the power went out, and the store was
filled with shadows.

The effects were instantaneous. Liz had heard her father talking about quantum scaling and collapsing waveforms, and didn't understand a word of it. What it amounted to was the ability to transport matter from one place to another, and to control completely the physical size and mass of that matter. The entire process could be run with a power source no greater than a single nine volt battery.

Turning to the receiver bed, Liz's heart gave a lurch. It was there! She could hardly believe it. She had done it. She had really, actually done it. Her pulse quickened as she stood to examine her prize.

It looked like a convenience store, down to the smallest detail. Liz could see the front swinging doors, the advertising posters, the pay phone just inside the entrance, exactly the way she remembered it. The only difference was that the building was now scarcely four feet across and nine inches high, with a layer of sidewalk and concrete covering the rest of the receiver bed like icing on a cake.

Liz stepped up to the border of the bed. A thought crossed her mind. She suddenly realized that she really ought to have checked to make sure Ashley was working today. It was a school holiday, a professional development day for the teachers, and Liz knew that Ashley always spent those working at the store. Still, she knew she should have checked.

Nothing was happening. Liz began to wonder if something had gone wrong. She leaned over the bed and grabbed the edge of the flat roof of the miniature convenience store. Her nails bit into the brick and concrete, and with a yank, she tore off a two-foot wide piece of the roof. It felt to her as if she were breaking popsicle sticks.

Half the inside of the store, including the cash register, came into view through a haze of plaster dust. Tiny cans and boxes had spilled to the floor in drifts from the violence of Liz's unroofing. For the first time Liz saw some motion, in the piles of tumbled cigarette cartons behind the cash register. An arm emerged, and then a tiny blonde head. At the sight, a surge of hatred tore through Liz. It was Ashley.

Ashley, disoriented, climbed shakily to her feet. Liz watched the tiny blonde glance around, and then up, and the look of astonishment on the girl's face made Liz grin savagely.

"Hey, Ash," said Liz, her voice like a peal of thunder to Ashley. "Read any good books lately?"

Ashley shrieked and bolted. Where she planned to run to, Liz didn't know, but she didn't let Ashley get very far. Reaching into the rubble of the store, she grabbed Ashley's leg between thumb and forefinger as gently as she could, and pulled her out.

The sensation, thought Liz, as Ashley kicked and punched and screamed, was much like picking up a baby mouse. She held Ashley by one ankle, and let her dangle in front of her face as Liz inspected her. Ashley was about four inches tall, Liz estimated. As Liz stared intently at her tiny captive, Ashley fell silent, terrified at the proximity of this monstrously huge mountain of a woman. Both girls looked each other in the eye.

"Please don't hurt me," said Ashley, in a tiny, high-pitched squeak of a voice.

Liz hadn't quite got as far as this in her plans. Now that she had her hated enemy at her mercy, she wasn't sure what to do with her. Upside down, Ashley's skirt had fallen to her waist, revealing long, slender legs and tiny pink panties. Liz sucked at her lower lip, and looked guiltily around the room, as if expecting someone to leap out at her, ready to catch her doing something shameful.

Hardly daring to breathe, Liz reached out and pinched Ashley's skirt between the thumb and forefinger of her other hand. The skirt tore away like the most gossamer of spider webs. Liz grinned widely, and Ashley began to panic again. Quickly, Liz tore Ashley's blouse off, then slit her bra open with a fingernail so it fell fluttering to the floor. The panties took Liz a bit of time, but she managed to roll them off. Finally, with a flick of her finger, Liz sent Ashley's sandals spinning off and laid her naked little prize in the palm of her hand.

"Oh no! Please don't!" squeaked Ashley in her tiny voice.

With her index finger, Liz turned her captive over so she lay on her stomach in Liz's palm. Liz could feel the soft swell of Ashley's breasts, could feel the little tickle of Ashley's breath against her palm. The beautiful, round little tush that Liz had spent so long lusting for was bare before her, and she stroked it gently with a finger, entranced by the silky feel of the skin. She let her finger trail down the swell of Ashley's cheeks, then down the tiny thighs, and lingered on the shapely, feminine calves before tickling the bottoms of Ashley's feet, delighting in watching the dainty little toes curl and uncurl. Finally, Liz rolled her captive back onto her back.

Liz bent her face forward until her nose and lips pressed against Ashley's flesh. Ashley became very still. Liz took a deep sniff, and caught the faint scent of baby powder. Closing her eyes, Liz opened her mouth and slid her tongue across Ashley's skin, leaving a glistening trail of saliva. Making little grunting noises, Liz gave in to her fantasies, running the tip of her tongue over every available inch and darting it at the tuft of fine hair between the tiny blonde's thighs, pressing the breath from her captive with her lips. Ashley sobbed quietly to herself, enduring the ordeal.

Widening her lips, Liz tongued Ashley entirely into her mouth. Liz sank back into the chair and concentrated on the sensations and sweat-salty flavour she was receiving. Slowly, she rolled Ashley against her palate with her tongue, closing her lips and cutting off the last of the girl's light. Ashley struggled violently, trying vainly to grab hold of the slippery tongue, keeping her arms and legs away from the huge teeth that surrounded her. Her screams vibrated through Liz's head.

Without conscious thought, Liz tilted her head back. Ashley slipped, head forward against the back of Liz's mouth. The swallowing reflex triggered and Liz felt the tiny naked body slide in a screaming lump down her throat. Like that, Ashley was gone.

A small orgasm rippled through Liz, making her moan softly. She had never imagined that having a living person within her would make her feel so... powerful. She could faintly sense Ashley's diminishing struggles inside her like butterflies brushing the pit of her stomach with their wings. She reached into her jeans, and found the front of her panties were soaked.

Liz opened her eyes and spotted a furtive movement from the receiver bed. She suddenly realized that there might have been customers in the store when she had taken it. Guiltily, she wondered how much they had seen.

Rising from her chair, Liz approached the receiver bed again. Peering into the ruins of the store she saw nothing, so she ripped the other half of the roof off and found them hunkered down in the walk-in freezer, a wall of milk crates around them like a fort. A woman and two teens, boy and girl.

Liz flicked the crates aside with her finger and grabbed all three in her hand. Sitting back in the chair, Liz looked at them closely. The woman was somewhere in early middle age, and not particularly attractive. She stared up at Liz dumbly, too stunned to react. The two teens were clutching each other for comfort, the girl in tears, the boy just frozen with terror.

The sight of three tiny, helpless people in her hand was making Liz nearly mindless with arousal. These were real people, she reminded herself, and they had never even met her, much less done anything to her. They were not toys. Her mental protests had a hollow ring to them. Liz knew that there was something very important inside her that had broken, and couldn't make herself care.

"Sorry, I really need you," said Liz huskily to her captives, and began hurriedly tearing off their clothes with her other hand, not taking any great care not to hurt them.

All three screamed and struggled uselessly with the huge fingers that pulled and tore at their clothing. The woman gibbered an almost unintelligible stream of babble in her squeaky voice, alternately threatening Liz and offering money to make her stop.

When the three were pink and naked, Liz reached down and unbuttoned the top of her jeans with her free hand. Lifting her bottom, Liz managed to pull down her pants, and then her panties, as far as her knees without having to get out of the chair.

Separating out the woman, Liz gripped her firmly between her thumb and forefinger. When the woman saw where she was headed, she shrieked like a soul being condemned to Hell, struggling with manic strength. Liz pressed the writhing little body against her sopping wet vaginal lips, and thought she might pass out from the sheer tactile pleasure of it. Shoving with her middle finger, Liz pushed the little screaming woman deep inside, where her captive's frantic struggles sent waves of perverse, erotic pleasure crashing through her.

"More," growled Liz, panting and bucking her hips in the chair. Grabbing one of the teens - the boy, though she hadn't bothered to check which - she tore him away from his girlfriend's embrace and stuffed him roughly inside her vagina behind the woman, shoving both deeper inside. Liz squeezed her thighs together, trapping them both inside the wet, hot oven of her pussy, drowning in her secretions, being slowly crushed by her rhythmically pulsing vaginal muscles. Their mortal struggles sent unimaginably powerful erotic pulses radiating out from her groin in electric waves that she could almost see.

Holding onto the feet of her third captive, Liz shoved the girl into her mouth, and began thrusting her in and out like a popsicle, sucking on her and making wet slobbering noises and breathy growls. When Liz's climax exploded like a volcano, she gasped and bit down convulsively, severing the girl at the knees. The sudden salty gush of blood made her mouth water, and she began chewing, abruptly cutting off the girl's pitiful shrieks of agony. The taste was salty-sweet, and had a pleasant consistancy that was both crunchy and chewy.

After she swallowed, Liz tossed the two tiny legs into her mouth and ate those too. For a long time, she just sat and lingered in the afterglow of her thunderous orgasm. Eventually, Liz realized that her two tenants had long since stopped struggling. It took a while to fish them out with her fingers, since they were both slick with her juices and had been pushed all the way back to her cervix.

Their glistening bodies laid sprawled in the palm of her hand, smashed and twisted by the force of her climaxing vaginal muscles. Their faces had frozen in soundless screams of horror. Liz toyed with them a little, but there were no signs of life. She tilted her head back and dropped both bodies into her mouth, swallowing them whole.

As she sat ruminating on what she had done, the phone rang, making her jump. She pulled up her pants quickly, as if whoever was on the other end could see through the phone.

"Hello," she said, her voice a little uneven.

"Liz, what the hell is going on? Have you been messing with the Machine?" came her father's voice.

Liz's blood ran cold. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I mean the sensor on my desk is going crazy! Did you do anything to the Machine, Liz? This is important!"

A sensor. It made perfect sense. Liz cursed herself. If she had stopped to think about it, she knew she ought to have realized they'd have some kind of alarm on the Machine. She sagged in the chair. It was over. All over. It would all come out. She would be branded a monster. There was nothing left but to kill herself.

"Liz? Liz, are you there? Liz, I'm coming home."

Wait, she thought, thinking furiously. There was a possibility. What were the limits of the Machine? She didn't know. "Uh, hold on a second, Daddy. I'm upstairs. Let me go check down in the lab and I'll tell you if anything is going on."

"Well dammit, hurry," Liz heard distantly as she put the phone receiver down. Turning to the computer, she began typing rapidly. The Machine had completed its recharge cycle. She clicked the mouse across the city map, selecting a large area at the edge of town. Minutes dragged by endlessly. She chewed her nails. "Liz?" she heard from the receiver. "Liz?"

The computer chimed, and Liz did some quick mental calculations. She entered a ratio of five hundred to one. She didn't know if the Machine could handle that, but she had to try. A second window popped up, one she had never seen before:

clear receiver? (y/n)

Liz glanced over at the shattered convenience store, and hit 'y'. There was a brief flash of light, and the receiver bed was empty. Liz wondered where the building had gone, or if it had just disappeared forever. A new window appeared:

analysis complete
ratio 500:1
proceed? (y/n)

She was aware that the phone had gone dead a minute ago or so. She had only seconds to spare. With no hesitation, Liz hit 'y'.

When Liz stood up and hurried over to the receiver bed, she was alarmed at first, but quickly realized she had almost overlooked the small, shiny rectangular box sitting near one edge. She leaned closer for a better look.

Something was wrong, he knew it. He hung up the phone and left
the office at a jog. "Let's go," he said to his wife as he passed
through the outer office. She looked up at him curiously but turned
off her terminal and followed him. The elevator seemed to take
forever, and when they reached the ground floor the power went out,
plunging them into darkness and forcing them to pull open the doors
manually.

By the time they got out, a crowd had already formed in the lobby.
"Oh God," he breathed, as he saw what everyone was pointing at.
No one knew what to make of the vast, steel plain stretching out
endlessly before them -- except him. Even before the mountain-sized
head descended into view, causing hysterical panic and exit en
masse, he had his wife by the hand and was running like hell from
the building.

The little rectangular box was small enough she could have held it in one hand. It was, of course, the building that housed the corporate institute. As she leaned closer, she noticed tiny multi-coloured specks moving out from the building in expanding concentric circles.

A silly grin broke out on her face as she realized what the little specks were. They were people! Real, live, little people! They were no more than a tenth of an inch tall, barely visible as people to the naked eye.

Liz knew that the only people in the world who even knew the Machine existed were somewhere before her. She had taken the building in a panic, but she realized now that it was the best thing she could have done. She was safe now.

Liz leaned even closer, holding her hair back with a hand so as not to drop it on the fleeing crowds. How many worked in the the tower, she wondered. Thousands, probably. With her nose nearly touching the steel, she tried to focus on the tiny darting shapes. She could pick out little flashes of white that she thought must be lab coats, and the way some of the dresses billowed as their wearer ran made them visible. Liz giggled, and the sudden gust of air sent dozens of the little shapes sliding across the receiver bed, for to them it was a blast of hurricane wind of proportions just short of apocalyptic.

Leaning as close as she could, Liz delighted in watching the antics of the little people. She moved from group to group, observing each one as if it was a rare bird. She felt a kind of funny feeling that she was at a loss to explain. She finally realized that what she felt was power; total, absolute power, more erotic than sex. It whispered sweetly to her.

She found a particularly large group of fleeing people and watched them for a bit. Then, without pausing to think about it, she opened her mouth and dipped her tongue, taking a long lick on the cold steel. She drew her tongue in and saw she had left a wide, empty swath in the middle of the crowd that now scattered in all directions.

Concentrating on the tiny people stuck to her tongue, Liz thought she could feel something, almost like a very faint tingling. She swallowed and the sensation of all those dozens of people struggling in her saliva vanished. With a look of hungry, sadistic lust on her face, Liz bent to the receiver bed again and licked up another crowd of tiny people, making little moaning noises as she did it. She mashed her tongue against the roof of her mouth for the faint tang of salt it produced. Her swallow brought her a small, shuddering orgasm.

After having seen their coworkers lapped up like crumbs, the remainder of the people who had fled began running back inside as quickly as they had come, for whatever little protection the building provided. Liz amused herself by pressing her finger down atop the few stragglers that hadn't yet made it to cover. Her fingertip was sensitive enough to feel the miniscule violent struggles of the people trapped beneath. They were far too small to be heard, but Liz imagined that they must be screaming and begging for their lives. Slowly, Liz increased the pressure until she had crushed her little victims flat, as if they were insects. She looked with interest at the tiny red smears on the pad of her finger, and wiped it clean with a swipe of her tongue.

Liz returned to her chair and sat down. There was no more movement from the receiver bed, though she could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at her with utter terror from the relative safety of the little building. Liz turned to the desk beside her, and began rooting through the drawers until she came up with a package of Twinkies. She knew her father had them hidden all over the place, his secret vice. Smiling a sinister grin, Liz opened the package and took a bite, revealing the creamy filling. She stood once more and approached the receiver bed.

Liz eyed the building. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she said in a stage whisper. With a fingernail, she flicked the side of the building lightly, shattering all the windows and sending masonry crumbling to the surface of the steel plain that surrounded it. As she expected, hundreds of tiny people came boiling from the building in a panicking mass. The Twinkie in her hand came down like a plummeting office block, the end of it landing on a part of the crowd. Liz blotted the mob with the end of the Twinkie again and again.

When Liz lifted the Twinkie, the people had vanished. Looking at the end of the Twinkie, however, Liz was delighted to see it writhed with tiny cream- covered specks, hopelessly mired in the filling. There were hundreds of real, live people there, thought Liz. Hundreds of terrified, screaming little people in fear for their lives. People with families, and hopes, dreams, and desires, just like her. This knowledge, the sudden brutal reality of it, horrified her for a moment. Then the broken part inside her stopped working again. Liz shoved the whole cake into her mouth and closed her eyes. She made an 'mmmm' noise as she chewed, and when she swallowed she wore a beatific smile on her face that could never have been confused with sanity.

There must still be people inside the building, thought Liz, though nowhere near as many as there had once been. A nasty thought occured to her, and she hunted up a piece of paper and an empty glass. Liz pressed her index finger against the top of the tower and pushed. Several top floors collapsed, and another flood of fleeing secretaries and executives and scientists came pouring out in a rush. Using her fingers to sweep the crowd along, Liz pushed them onto the piece of paper which she had laid flat on the receiver bed. She then lifted the paper and curled it into a 'U' shape, which she used to pour the people into the empty glass.

Despite having been as gentle as she could and tilting the glass so the tiny people would slide down the inner sides to the bottom instead of plummeting, Liz could see a lot of injured people when she lifted the glass and squinted through it at its contents. She shrugged, and shook the glass a little, giggling as all of the little people were thrown from their feet.

Liz set the glass down on the floor and began removing her clothes one piece at a time in a sensual strip-tease for her tiny captives. Her panties had soaked clear through, and her juices ran down her thighs. Her nipples were so hard and sensitive that Liz gasped when the air brushed them. She had never been as horny as she was just then.

Liz laid herself on the floor on her back, knees bent. She bit her lip as she used one finger to rub the swollen, slippery flesh of her labia, then used two fingers to pry herself wide open. With her other hand, she lifted the glass and held it a few inches from her face. "Bon voyage," she said, and placed a light kiss on the glass, observing the utter panic that was going on inside. Then she brought the glass down the length of her body and tipped it over slowly, spilling its human cargo down into the hot, wet depths of her throbbing cleft. They were so tiny she never even felt them.

Pumping her fingers in and out of herself, Liz groaned, imagining all the hundreds of people smothering and drowning inside her, suffering horribly for her sexual pleasure. She climaxed so powerfully that she actually blacked out for a second or two, and smaller orgasms continued to go off in sequence, like a string of firecrackers.

Her climax slowly dwindled until Liz lay panting on the floor, trying to chase the blue spots out of her vision. It was a few minutes before she had enough energy to climb wobbly-legged to her feet. Liz wondered if there might be any more wonderful little playthings left in the tower.

After repeated batterings with her finger, the building yielded no further tasty treats. Whatever people remained within the building had decided to take their chances there, rather than run to their certain deaths. Pressing with her thumb onto the roof, Liz drove her finger straight down until the building collapsed into a smoking ruin. She ground the rubble with her thumb until it had been thorougly pulverised and nothing living could have remained within.

As she picked several mangled corpses from her teeth with a fingernail, Liz realized for the first time that her parents had been in that building somewhere. She wondered if she had crushed them, or if they were swimming in her stomach at that very moment, slowly dissolving amongst the dead and dying. Their bodies might even be lost somewhere in the black depths of her vagina. The thought made her feel fiendish and powerful, and she licked her murderous lips.

Liz powered down the computer and picked her discarded clothes up from the floor. Tomorrow, classes would start again, and Liz's eyes narrowed. A lot of people would be very sorry for what they had done to her. Oh yes. She turned off the basement lights and went upstairs to turn on the television. Liz guessed there would be some very interesting news about vanishing buildings, and smiled.



- end part I -
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