The Chase

From his vantage, Jack stared in horror. He has seen the whole incident unfold. This was so far from anything he could have imagined, he was dumbstruck. She just ate Tony, whole. Involuntarily he let slip a nervous chuckle, there was some cosmic irony to Tony’s fate, given his penchant to hurting girls that he should be devoured by one. Were Jack not up the same creek without anything remotely resembling a paddle, he would surely have laughed a lot harder. Despite her amazingly long lovely legs and skimpy undergarment, Jack’s only thought now was for escape. If he could remain undetected, he might be able to survive until this shit wore off. If it wore off. He paused. What if it didn’t wear off, then what? Then what indeed. Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize the layout of the house, the scope might be vastly different, but the layout hadn’t changed. Clare had said her mother was away, which meant he might find some refuge in the master bedroom.

Clare reappeared in the kitchen, “No answer, but I left a message we had intruders.”

Angela nodded, a warm flush in her cheeks. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or the hunt or the little burglar still squirming, but I am most assuredly enjoying myself,” she added, absently tracing her fingers over her lean stomach.

Clare smiled, she too was enjoying the thrill of a good hunt.

Glancing toward the stairs descending to the lower level of the house, “Could he have gotten downstairs, I wonder?” asked Angela.

“Highly unlikely, the steps would’ve have been too big for him, but we could check,” Clare offered.

“Couldn’t hurt,” replied Angela. Together they walked toward the stairs.

Jack watched surreptitiously from his hiding spot. Once they were out of view, he could hear the sounds of their descending footfalls on the flight of stairs. He made a break for the hall, running as fast as his small legs would carry him.

“My wine,” groused Clare, “I forgot it upstairs.”

Ascending quickly, she strolled back into the kitchen just in time to see the tiny form enter the hall.

“He’s here!” she cried, moving now in his direction.

He knew she saw him, the sound of her footsteps grew louder as she rapidly closed the distance between them. There was no way he was going to make the master bedroom, he ducked into the first door on his right, a spacious bathroom. He stayed against the kick of the bathroom counter, trying to use the overhang to his advantage. Circling around and behind the toilet, he paused as his chest heaved sucking in air. Back to the cold white porcelain, he peered over his shoulder the way he had come. Clare was there, kneeling, blocking the path of retreat with hands extended. She wore a big smile on her face. He darted to the other side of the base of the rear of the toilet, just as Angela arrived. The blonde stepped over Clare and knelt down, elbows on the smooth tile, hands out.

“Come on out little fellow,” coaxed Clare, leaning in closer.

Sweat streamed down his forehead as he scampered back and forth behind the toilet, looking for any possible avenue of escape, but both women had hands down, ready to catch him.

“I’ll push him your way,” Angela said, moving in closer around the toilet slowly, trying to steer him back to Clare or an area where she could grab him. Her hands were very close, when suddenly he feinted right then left, ducked around her hand before she could intercept him. His maneuver brought him to the front of the toilet. Angela’s recovery though delayed, was quick enough to force him to his left, and right toward Clare’s legs. Now he was between the women as they scrambled to re-position themselves to trap him between them. The movement of such gigantic limbs suddenly made him very concerned about the possibility of getting kneeled on and crushed. A single miscue would see him turned into a greasy red stain on the bathroom floor. He hesitated only a second before darting to his right, trying get out from between, but the gap closed and he shifted back to his left.

Angela moved from behind, herding him to Clare’s waiting hands, but he promptly ducked left then suddenly altered his direction to the right, but Angela countered.

Clare reached out quickly to grab him with her right hand but when he attempted to dodge, she accidently struck him, knocking him to the ground hard. The force of the impact from the ground staggered him. He tried to rise but it was too late, Clare quickly gathered him up in her warm hand. “Got you!” she exclaimed, tone triumphant.

“Remember, they bite,” cautioned Angela, leaning back on her heels, serious look on her gorgeous face.

He shook his head to clear his vision and gather his himself as the ground rushed away from him. He was caught firmly in her hand, her thumb pinning his chest securely. “I won’t bite,” he said struggling for breath.

She held him at her eye level, the speed of the acceleration caused his stomach to roll. Her face was flawless but on this scale it felt like he was in front of billboard.

“Why did you come here? What were you looking for?” she said, ire in her lovely face. Immobilized by the rigidity of her grip, he remained silent and glowered into her large emerald eyes. She squeezed slightly, crushing the air out of him. His face went red but he did not speak.

“Well?” she demanded, squeezing a little more and shaking the hand she held him with. He thought his head was going to pop.

“I don’t think he can talk with how tight you’re holding him,” said Angela. Clare eased her grip but still held him fast. He remained silent

“Let me try,” said the blonde. Clare transferred the man into Angela’s open palm. Balancing him in her open hand, she brought him before her face. “What you fail to understand, Jack, may I call you Jack? Anyway, what you don’t seem to grasp is how potentially unpleasant this could be for you.” She smiled a perfect smile and looked sympathetically at him. He knew what lay behind that gorgeous smile, he had watched Tony disappear behind that deceptive smile.

Turning his head to face Clare, “What the fuck have you done to me!” he demanded, adopting an aggressive tone.

“I shrunk you,” said Clare. “I thought it was pretty obvious,” she added with an amused expression on her face.

“It’s not possible, there’s no way…” he mumbled as he shook his head.

“Yet here you are,” replied Clare, spreading open her hands.

“Jack, I want you to look at me,” said Angela, drawing his attention back from Clare. “It’s important for you to tell us why you’ve come here and who may have sent you. Help us and we can help you.”

“Fuck you and,” turning back to Clare, “fuck you.”

“You’re a little short on equipment to be extending such bold invitations,” cautioned Clare with a capricious smile and patting the crotch of her black pants.

“There’s no need for profanity Jack,” Angela chastised.

“Fix me, return me to normal, and I’ll leave, I’ll just walk away,” he offered.

“You were already given that opportunity, but now that ship has sailed,” Clare replied.

Turning his head back to look at Angela, “You fucking ate Tony!” he indicted.

Angela smiled, “Yes, so that should give you some incentive to answer our questions lest you suffer a similar fate.”

Lifting his arms to shoulder height, he gave them each the finger.

“Fuck it,” said Clare. “Give him back I’ll just eat him and be done with it.” She rubbed her taut stomach.

As Angela passed him back to Clare, the raven haired beauty licked her full lips.

“Wait!” he yelled as Clare knocked him down in Angela’s hand and lifted him aloft by one of his legs. She raised him up over her head.

“Goddamn it wait!” he cried, squirming against the grip as he dangled precariously over her face.

Opening her mouth, revealing perfectly set white teeth, Clare lowered him closer as if to put his entire body into her wet place. Her breath was fresh and held a hint of some type of fruit.

Just an inch from her mouth, she paused and said, “Was there something you wanted to say?”

“Don’t fucking eat me, for Christsakes!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t chew, I’ll just let you slide down my throat and you’ll wind up in my tummy whole. You might survive a few hours as my body begins to break you down and absorb the best parts of you. Of course sometime tomorrow I’ll expel the rest you.” She patted the toilet seat with her free hand.

“Just a goddamn minute! Wait!”

“Better tell her Jack, I don’t think she’s going to let you keep stalling,” advised Angela, a reproving look on her face.

Clare snaked her tongue out of her mouth and licked him from face to waist as he thrashed against her. “Mmm,” she cooed, “You taste good,” then she let go.

Instead of dropping straight in as she intended, he caught himself on the side of her mouth and frantically tried to pull himself out. Using her tongue she easily dislodged his grasp and he fell backwards into her mouth. As he tried to orient himself, she drew her tongue back in and closed her pretty mouth. He clutched and grabbed anything he could to avoid being drawn down her maw, yelling and hollering for her to stop, but everything was so slick he couldn’t get purchase. She swirled him around her mouth, backwards and forwards, drawing him deeper into her mouth then moving him toward her teeth, savoring his taste as he moved over her tongue. She found the sensation of him squirming futilely against her might incredibly arousing.

Filled with adrenaline he vigorously fought not only against being drawn down her throat, but also trying to keep his hands and feet out from between her pearly white teeth. Finally, she opened her mouth and pushed him out onto her hand. Drenched in her saliva, he sputtered and coughed in her palm. Turning his head to look at Clare, eyes wide, a rabbit in a wolf’s jaw. Every muscle in his body screamed as he had fought for his life.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to restrain myself next time, you are so tasty I almost swallowed,” she said to him, a little breathless herself. Turning to Angela, she added, “I can’t believe how wet I am, I am so turned on right now. To feel him thrashing about like that, it is intoxicating.” Looking back to Jack, she smiled wickedly. “Oh the things I am thinking for you at this moment.”

Angela held out her hand and Clare rolled him onto it. He was still breathing heavy from the tremendous exertion he had expended in Clare’s mouth. His proud and powerful physique heaving. He rolled over and up onto his knees, mopping slick hair back from his face. She smiled reassuringly, leaned forward almost as if to kiss, and sucked him head first into her mouth, his legs still sticking out. His hollering silenced as she tipped hear head backward and sucked the rest of him into her mouth.

As before, into the breach he was plunged, thrashing and struggling, desperate fear lending him strength against her powerful tongue as she moved him at will about the inside of her mouth. Surrounded by her saliva and sweet breath he tumbled, strength bleeding from him with each passing moment until finally depleted, he lay on her tongue. Like Clare, she too enjoyed the taste of him and the thrill of his life or death struggle. He could feel the power in her tongue as it undulated beneath him. She pressed it against the roof of her mouth pinning his legs there and started to swallow, he could feel the beginning of the descent to fathomless depths below and wondered if there was anything left of Tony.

Suddenly, Angela opened her mouth, him still on her tongue exhausted and spent from exertion. He felt her breath roll over him as she exhaled through her mouth. Raising her hand she removed him from her tongue, he remained limp in her palm.

“My, my, this one is very different from the last, much more delightful,” she voiced heatedly, casting a predatory glance over to Clare. “It may be indelicate for me to say, but my pussy is absolutely sopping right now.”

“I know!” added Clare. A smile crept over her face and she threw a quick glance at the bathroom door.

“No more, please,” he croaked, futilely raising a hand as if the gesture might ward them off.