She was appalled. The kitchen, illuminated by the pale moonlight and reflected in the white tile and dishwasher and refrigerator, portrayed a scene she was not prepared for. 

There was indeed a group of tiny people there, they very much alive... Most of them, anyhow.

A group of five were surrounded by a dozen or so, lying in their pools of blood and gore. Some had their stomachs 'unzipped,' their innards splattered messily all over the tile. The five in the center, as far as she could tell, were covered in said blood. It was not very difficult to see in the moonlight, but it was also dark enough to make her strain her eyes. 

The cry that she had heard came from that group of five- it was a woman, one she thought was a corpse, on her back, surrounded by the other five, who all appeared to be men. One of them was on top of her- he grunted softly as the woman, with whispers almost too soft to hear, came out of her.

"Nooooo," she breathed out, "please, I beg of thee..." A sob.

The breath in the Virgin's throat caught. They were raping her. 

The Virgin's feet refused to move. She put her hand to her mouth, stifling a cry she knew would not come. She recalled a time in middle school where she watched one of her friends, a flamboyant thing named Bobby Grey, beat down on the lawn of the school. She remembered doing nothing then, either.

The man on top of the woman gave a soft grunt, arching his back, thrusting once more; he was finishing. She couldn't see it, but hot white seed filled her cavity and spluttered out in the cracks between his penis and her spread vagina.

"Have ye finished?" Grunted one of the onlookers.

"Aye, verily he hath, for it smelleth of mushrooms!"

"It smelled of mushrooms before ye took her the second time, damn ye," said the man who was mounted to the girl still. "And now shalt the smell of iron mingle with it."

In the flash of moonlight that accompanied it, a knife was drawn. Before the Virgin could even think of something, the knife slid across the girl's throat, bathing the knife in crimson red. She was apparently not expecting this, as when the knife cut across the skin she began to scream. It was short lived, and the gurgle that replaced it was also very intense but very short.

A cry of dismay came from one of the onlookers. 

"See see, Fnya, I was wont to be next! Ye bastard, ye've killed my spoil, thrice damn ye!"

General laughter.

"Come now, old Dvarn- ye had the first go of her, when she still was tired and scared. Tight like unto a pair of hands- it is no justice that thou wouldst have of her a third time. Lest," He began, "he'd have of her now!"

There was a cry of laughter, callous and uncaring. 

"Aye but no!" One of them said, Dvarn most like. "I'd rather haveth that giant bitch outside! But pray, lads, let us rise up and tarry no longer, aye? Lads, what are ye-"

His own question was answered as he looked to where the rest were staring, their jaws agape. 

There stood she, the very giant bitch Dvarn spoke of. In the moonlight she was a terrible thing to behold- fists clenched, her face screwed up in horror and fury, blood and thunder. 

She was on them before they could flee, her legs striding impossibly long. A foot was raised up, dangled briefly, and crushed two of the rapers lightning fast. Dvarn and Fnya, the other raper as well, were sprayed sprayed with a fine mist of blood, still unable to comprehend what had happened. The raper let out a scream, and bolted away, leaving Dvarn and Fnya behind. The giantess tried but in vain to grab the fleeing one, but missed as he rolled, just brushing her fingers. 

The Virgin didn't bother; she went right for the pair that stood frozen in fear. She picked them up, bringing them to her face. One had pissed himself. 

"You..." Any remorse she felt was gone. She was filled with absolute contempt. "You little bastards."

Wasting no time, the Virgin palmed one of the tiny men so her fingers of her hand were free. Her fingers of the other hand moved to lock the other man, Fnya he was called, between her index and pointer and thumb. 

"All of you..."

The Virgin gripped Fnya's arm.

"All of you little shits deserve this."

The Virgin yanked his arm. It tore from the socket, handfuls of blood dripping from the torso and a bit from the arm. Fnya screamed bloody murder. The Virgin tossed the arm aside, flipping over Fnya, his other arm available now. She also gripped that. 

"You monsters think you can harm others like they're just your play things?"

She twisted the arm between her fingers, snapping several bones and making them pierce out of skin. Fnya's screams intensified.

"Well, you little ass. Let me show you just what it feels like."

She let the arm loose, repositioned his body, dangling his legs. She started to pull on the both of them.

Agony engulfed Fnya. Dvarn, trapped between the Virgin's fingers, could only watch on mute horror. He thanked whatever goddess might be present that he was positioned near Fnya's legs and not his head- he didn't think he could bare to look him in the eye.

Tighter and tighter, he was pulled, and his screams rang out in the kitchen. Even the one who had fled and barely escaped the giant's fingers stopped to listen at the horrible cry.

It was too much- the skin at Fnya's midriff began to tear, a thick trickle of blood coming forth. As the skin began to widen, his digestive organs, held only in place by a thin tissue, stretched taut then finally snapped. Viscera dropped down from torn muscle and on to the cold hard floor not five feet below. There was a sudden resistance, the Virgin felt, and she knew that his spine was the last connection the lower had to the upper. With a final yank, the spine was severed, and Fnya's cries became weaker and weaker. His life blood continued to exit him until his head finally dropped to his chin and it was over.

Dvarn vomited violently into the Virgin's hand, and barely noticed that she had dropped the two pieces of Fnya. He was repositioned so that he was between two fingers as well, his heart beating and shaking so violently, he thought he was going to explode. His cock was harder than it had ever been in his life, but not for the pleasure of anything- his manhood was painfully swollen because never had he felt such fear. 

"Well," the Virgin said with a wicked smile, "that was fun. But your friend didn't last very long."

She chuckled. 

"You guys seemed to enjoy that little woman a lot. Tell me," she spoke licking her puffy lips, "do you like getting fucked as much as you like fucking?"

Dvarn's eyes went wide as the Virgin carried him over to the drawer. As she opened it at dug inside, the little man couldn't take his eyes off of her, so paralyzed with fear was he. Finally, she found what she was looking for, and pulled it out. It was a singular chopstick, one of the many that she had accumulated over her time here, wooden testaments of her penchant for terrible take out. 

She held up the wooden stick in front of him, grinning. 

"Do you think she was as scared as you are, you little asshole? You think that she was crying out just because she liked it? And speaking of little assholes..."

She deftly flipped the tiny squirming man in her fingers so he was upside down, his buttocks in the air. She tore off the skimpy loincloth, fully exposing him. 

Her countenance turned wrathful. She couldn't believe how angry she was. She couldn't believe what she was going to do. 

The tiny man was screaming between her fingers, gripped in an unholy panic. He was so afraid, more than he'd ever been. "No no no I beg thee please," he cried out, tears streaming down his face.

The Virgin laughed, tearing up a little bit herself- not out of grief, but anger.

"You little bastard. Oh you little shit." She gritted her teeth. "You have the fucking nerve to beg for mercy. You little fuck. Little man," she said, pressing the chopstick up to his exposed ass, "you'll get no mercy from me."

The stick itself was practically a small tree trunk to Dvarn, but it went in all the same. The curvature of it widened the gap, loosening his legs and spilling his entrails out. It went up into his stomach, lungs, shoulders, until finally it forced his gurgling, screaming head off. He was completely split in half, and she had gone very, very slowly.

Dropping the chopstick and whatever remained of the little split man, she walked over and stood over the tiny woman who was raped and murdered. She stood there for a second, and began to tear up again. 

She knew she had exacted revenge for this one at least. But what of others? What if any others that had been raped and murdered and used as playthings. Was this prevalent? Was it common? Would this happen again if any of them had survived?

She thought back to a time when we sister, all of sixteen at the time, was drugged and made a plaything of some very despicable men. She had wished, as an angry twelve year old, that she could kill all the men, good and bad. They didn't deserve to live, she had thought, her angry and chubby twelve year old self had thought. Now a little older, little wiser, she had thought those feelings of hatred had all gone away.

She guessed not.

These little people, God in heaven, little people! Had tried to rape her, had successfully raped and murdered one of their own. To her, that was crime enough, laws of God or laws of men be damned. 

Any remorse she had felt was gone, she knew, and it wasn't coming back. 

She turned, then, leaving the broken body of her catalyst behind, and spotted the one that had gotten away from her. 

"You," she cried out, pointing at him. He turned and bolted the other direction.

-----------------

Sigdaw, and out of fear, the woman she was with, had headed towards the kitchen ever since they heard what was happening in there. At a slow and steady pace, they made good time, and were nearly arrived, Sigdaw's heart pounding like mad and the tiny woman behind her shaking with ever mounting and increasing fear. 

"Sigdaw, please, I beggeth thee..."

They were almost a foot to the doorway when a tiny man burst out in full sprint, huffing and making pathetic anxious sounds. Not a second later, the Virgin's blood-splattered feet came out in hot pursuit. 

The little man tried his most valiantly to escape, but it was too little- one for the footfalls came right down on top of him, smearing him into the carpet. Not even a crunch of bones was heard, just a short but fast burst of gore. 

Sigdaw watched with her fingers touching her womanhood, stroking softly. The other woman, the true goddess damn her, started to scream. The Virgin turned her head, towards them, locking her deep eyes on the pair. Sigdaw dropped what she was doing and began to back up, feebly. 

The Virgin walked casually towards them, reaching down with both hands to make a grab for them. The screaming woman, her feet apparently glued, offered no resistance but her sonorous wail. Sigdaw, however, tried to at least escape, acrobatting her legs up and deftly attempting to dodge capture, but to no end. She felt a firm grip snatch her by the waste, and then her stomach lurch as she flew upwards. 

As she rose, she realized that her heart was beating rapidly- not from fear, though, no- but from excitement. She was excited to be captured, she realized. 

How odd.

"Oh, my goddess," she spoke to herself, her hand moving back down towards her nether.

When she was brought up to the Virgin's wide and pretty face, she was deep into herself. The Virgin, however, did not seem to notice, but was instead looking at the woman who was, unsurprisingly, still screaming her head off. She frowned, her pretty lips tightening and teeth baring. 

"Give it a rest, will you?" She tried to use her thumb to stroke the tiny woman, but she shook violently, enough to avoid it. 

"Come on," the Virgin frowned, "calm down. You're going to die anyway, might as well be calm about it. Here, would you like a kiss?"

Sigdaw couldn't believe her ears.

The Virgin brought the tiny screaming woman to her lips, just close enough to reach out and touch had she a mind to. She was scared out of her wits, because were she laid out on her side, the enormous pink lips dwarfed the tiny woman in length. 

The Virgin pursed her lips, and gave the woman the tiniest of pecks across her body, which only intensified the shaking. She stopped screaming but was full on crying now, covering her face with her hands. 

The Virgin, enthralled, pecked the tiny woman again. And again. Then, finally, in a fit of spontaneity, poked her tongue out at dabbed the screaming lady. The tongue left a dab of saliva on the woman's chest, and woman began to sob all the louder. Again the tongue dabbed her, but then just as soon, the tongue started at her feet and dragged all the length of the inconsolable woman's body, from her toes to her head. The woman was beside herself when the Virgin announced her intent to the woman.

"You... You taste pretty good... I think... That I'll... Have you for a snack."

The tongue again came out and caressed her body, she shivering and shaking as she realized what was about to happen. 

Sigdaw was absolutely beside herself! The Virgin, her sweet sweet goddess, was going to partake of the woman! Her fingers probed deeper into her, her wet mess of a pussy aching. She truly was the goddess incarnate, she thought. 

The woman offered no resistance but her wild shake when she passed the Virgin's soft pink pillows of her lips. The Virgin placed her in her tongue, a soft bed that fell right into the grave of her stomach. 

Sigdaw watched in a combination of mute horror and divine ecstasy. 

-----------------
The decision had come in a flash of inquisition, the Virgin realized, and before she knew it she was placing this tiny woman on her tongue. 

The thought excited her greatly, and she couldn't deny the tickle it made in her stomach... And even her womanhood. She felt herself grow moist with the thought. 

It was the first time in this night that she had felt powerful- truly powerful, like the goddess that the tiny people had spoken of. 

As she had kissed the woman, the thought had come to her, even more so when she realized how tart the woman's skin had tasted. When she considered it, the butterflies in her stomach had gone mad.

She realized that, with a stirring in her loins and stomach, she was going to eat this tiny woman. 

She could barely contain her thoughts, even as she placed the woman on her wet tongue. 

She felt her there, breathing through her mouth, her shivering and shaking. She seemed to resign to her fate. Only when she had closed her mouth had the woman begun to shout ad cry anew. 

The open beat upon her tongue and teeth as the Virgin swished her around like a piece of meat. 

Without knowing it, the Virgin's now free hand visited her pussy, stroking the clitoris softly. 

She was about to swallow when she salivated, diminishing the flavor greatly. She committed then and started to chew, placing the woman between two molars. 
She had somehow avoided the grinding teeth, because as she bit down, something gave way and crunched, but her screams grew even louder. 

Salty blood splashed onto her tongue, and she stroked herself once more. It was oh so sweet. 

Again she chewed, feeling bone after bone crunch and grind between her teeth, until one bite, the screaming muffled and suddenly stopped. A new flavor, one on top of many- but above all, sweetness. 

She chewed to satisfaction, and then swallowed the remains of her tiny bite sized meal down to her gullet.

Ecstatic. 

She licked her lips, still tasting the tiny woman on her tongue. She was absolutely delicious, and the experience had been thrilling. She wondered, had Godzilla or King Kong felt this way? Or was this a new sensation? She imagined herself as tall as those monsters, people as cars and buildings and whatever else at her feet. 

She was imagining herself in that position so much that she forgot all about the other woman in her other hand.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sigdaw had orgasmed twice witnessing the spectacle. First shortly after hearing the macabre first crunch of bones snapping, accompanied by the most delightful scream that had touched her insides like no other. Even after the first explosion, she continued to watch, now more in love and ecstasy than muted horror. Her pleasure could not have been more complete. The second came when the Virgin had swallowed her meal down her throat, the white skin of her neck buldging softly as the lump travelled down and down and down. 

She was nearing the third when her goddess finally seemed to remember that she was holding her. She almost looked surprised to Sigdaw, and for a brief moment, Sigdaw paused stroking herself, the old fear visiting her once again- but only briefly. 

The Virgin’s eyes squinted a bit in the moonlight, eyeing Sigdaw. Her eyes flared and her mouth opened slightly when she seemed to notice the tiny woman in her hand was jilling off. She seemed to take pause herself, unable to comprehend why someone, one who had just seen her devour another woman of her size, would find it prudent to pleasure herself. 

It seemed to confuse her, which Sigdaw found… enticing. 

For a second, nothing happened, but then this: the Virgin touched her bottom lip. Even more so was the way her green eyes softened, the black hair drooping ever so slightly over her face. Sigdaw continued to stroke herself softly, the intensity slightly abated. 

A shudder passed through the Virgin, a sharp inhale that caused Sigdaw’s own hair to move towards the open mouth. The Virgin was thinking, she realized- something she may not have ever considered before, a simple curiosity that Sigdaw herself had once explored. Feelings of something, something like maybe lust or maybe even deep longing, like what she wanted was just before her. All she had to do was give in, submit, and curiosity would be satisfied, maybe even fulfillment would be found.

With all her heart, Sigdaw hoped it was so!

Gently, ever so caress-like, the Virgin loosened her grip on the tiny girl and brought her to her mouth. There she gave not a peck, but a long draw, deep and filled with passion. The kiss had engulfed her head entirely, and Sigdaw shivered with delight mixed with the overpowering feeling of surrender. 

The Virgin retracted Sigdaw from her kiss, her face flushed with blood. Her tiny plaything panting as well, her hand still thrusting in and out of her moistened nethers. 

The Virgin licked her lips again, this time in a hunger that was more than for flesh or consumption- with her free hand, the Virgin first softly took Sigdaw by the arm and pulled it away from her vagina, causing Sigdaw to shudder from the sudden air flow. Once done, Virgin then pushed Sigdaw’s delicate legs open, exposing her to the goddess and the world. But, as far as Sigdaw was concerned, it was only these two.

She moaned softly, closing her eyes, anticipating what was to come. 

The Virgin opened her mouth, letting her tongue loll out, reading for the second meal of the night. 

“Oh, mine goddess… I beg thee- let me be thine!” she cried out, ready.

Sigdaw realized that she wasn’t feeling the ecstasy of cunnilingus from her sacred goddess, and deigned even to open her eyes. The sight that greeted her was not friendly- the goddess had closed her mouth, a frown creeping upon her lips. Once warm eyes now regarded her with something not unsimilar to disdain. Before she could realize what was happening, Sigdaw found herself falling very, very fast, down down down…

Until she hit the carpet below. Her legs twisted under her, folding in ways that should not be. She fell onto her back, too in shock to scream, too out of breath to 
say anything. 

Her arm, she could still move her arm. She reached up, trying to reach out and up to her love- the love that had just killed her. 

There she stood, naked and lovely. Sigdaw, true to herself and her love, used her other hand, two fingers crushed into terrible shapes, to touch herself- and surprised herself to find that she still had feeling.

“G… g…” she croaked, but the words were hard coming. 

The Virgin, still tall, still lovely, still naked. Looked down on the woman with hands on her hips.

“I have to admit,” she said, suddenly very softly, “I almost wanted it.”

She raised her foot above Sigdaw. 

“Godd… godde…”

“But I can’t. None of you can live.”

She began to lower her foot. It all suddenly came back to her, rushing- Sigdaw remembered her time on the Virgin’s foot-printed sandal, pleasuring herself. This is what… this is what she wanted! Even if she was going to die… at the very least, she would die under the foot of hr love, her queen, her goddess.

The foot continued to lower.

Sigdaw continued to pleasure herself, her fingers screaming in agony. 

As the foot lowers, Sigdaw came up to greet it, her lips pursed. But…

But something was wrong. It was all wrong.

As the warm foot flesh made contact with Sigdaw’s body, it was different- the rank smell of blood filled Sigdaw’s nostrils, assaulting her. As the pressure mounted, being unable to move her arms, her head, and the breath being forced out of her, she realized that it was nothing like she thought. 

She began to scream, loud and painfully, diminished only by the cracking of ribs. Broken bones pierced her lungs and flesh, her organs spilling out of tears and from her anus. Finally, the mounting pressure was too much, and her head cracked open- stars filled her eyes and then all the lights and sounds and tastes and smells combined in one loud angry shout before finally going black. She did have one coherent thought before all fell apart. 

“Would my goddess hold me, caress me?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One quick crunch and it was over. Warm blood seeped all over her foot and between her toes, and the Virgin knew that she was gone.

Still, something bothered her- she saw her eyes as they… connected- there was something genuine there, wasn’t there? She thought briefly about the passion that overtook her. 

What in the world was that?

She shook her head- it was nothing, it was a passionate fling, naught else. She was nothing more than just another one of these little monsters to be destroyed. But still- if there was any that the Virgin would remember tonight, it would be that little woman. Her, and quite possibly, the woman she had eaten. 

She wondered, though: did the last one have a name?

The thought left her mind as quickly as it had entered, and, feeling a little sad but not for long, the Virgin went to the kitchen.

A lot of these bugs were still inside her bedroom, where her cell phone was. And she would need a bit of help to get to it.