Pale light crept through the edges of Rachel’s bedroom window where the curtain was not fully drawn. The light bathed the side of Rachel’s face, causing her to groan as it slowly peeled back her eyelids. She rose, uncovered herself from the duvet and swung her legs around so they dangled off the side of the bed. She lifted her hand just below her mussed, black hair and sleepy, green eyes, brushed her fringe from her forehead and yawned.

               Meanwhile, at the level of Rachel’s sock-clad feet, a survivor of last night’s debauchery looked on. She was tiredly making her way to the door in some sort of pathetic attempt at escape. She was around mid-thirties, blonde, shapely and covered in dry, girl-teen cum. It clung to her, slowing her movements, every step an onerous exertion to a deluded fancy: she was Rachel’s; Rachel was her queen, goddess and commander; Rachel didn’t leave survivors. The massive boom of Rachel’s yawn brought the fuck-bug to her knees. The sound was deafening, and she looked around, hoping that those green eyes had missed her… they hadn’t.

               Rachel began to smile as the realisation hit her fuck-bug: she turned and bolted for her bedroom door. The giantess simply broadened her smile and peeled back her socks, releasing a warm miasma from her stinky feet. ‘Aww, I’m sorry, but I don’t do survivors.’ Rachel cooed. She rose; the fuck-bug looked anxiously over her shoulder, fell to the floor and began to sob. A massive boom and then another. Rachel thumped her feet either side of the bug.

The tiny began to gag as the stench of Rachel’s feet filled the air around her. She looked up at her goddess and began to plead. ‘Please! Please, don’t kill me. I’ll do anything: I’ll clean your feet, eat your shit, be your dildo…’ Then she screamed. All she could see was the massive, lint-ridden, stinky sole of one of Rachel’s feet as it descended on top of her. Crunch! Rachel pounded her foot down, crushing the stupid fuck-bug to a pulp.

Rachel then proceeded to skip towards her en suite bathroom. ‘Hmm, I wonder. If there was one… Yes!’ Rachel ejaculated with glee as she rummaged around in her vagina for more pseudo-survivors. Rachel beamed at the six bedraggled, cum-covered fuck-bugs. She dropped them into her sink and began to brush her teeth, paying no more heed to them. Rachel finished brushing, squelched the toothpaste around in her mouth, and then spat the mix at the bugs, covering them all in toothpaste and saliva. Rachel tittered and bound off towards the shower. Abeyance from their suffering ensued. Rachel showered, did all the ancillary processes a girl must do, got changed into her school uniform, scooped up the bugs into a plastic bag and went down stairs.

‘Morning, Rachel.’ Said Rachel’s mum.

‘Hi, mum.’ Returned Rachel.

‘Well, someone’s a bit cheerier this morning, aren’t they?’

Rachel giggled. ‘Hormones, I guess, mum.’

Rachel poured her cereal into her bowl, thinking about the milky treat she could have, licking her lips.

               ‘Oh, Rachel, do me a favour and mix my shake for me.’

Rachel looked up at her mum. Wow, she thought. She was a real milf: late forties, six foot, curly black hair, and curves to die for. A wicked idea crossed Rachel’s mind. ‘Sure thing, mum.’ Rachel grabbed her mum’s shake bottle and protein powder and dumped two scoops into the bottle. Then she grabbed the plastic bag from her pocket and emptied the contents into the bottle. The tinies fell into the soft powder, and it covered their pathetic bodies. They were confused, and all of a sudden, a pure white stream cascaded towards them. Rachel filled the bottle, screwed the lid on and began to shake. The bugs were smashed around in the bottle until the shaking suddenly stopped and light shot in. Rachel watched as her mum lifted the cap and began chug. Her excited eyes glued to her mum’s powerful, pulsing throat. The bugs were swept by a tide of milky nutrition past her thick her lips, into her warm mouth and down her thoat. A trickle escaped and streamed down her huge breasts and into her perfect cleavage. Rachel couldn’t believe how hot her mum’s body looked in a tank top and yoga pants.

               ‘Mmm, that’s what I needed.’ Husked Rachel’s mum. ‘You’ll be fine getting school today, right? Mummy’s gotta go gym.’

               ‘Sure.’ Rachel managed, mesmerized at her mum’s figure. She watched her phat arse crease with each step as she left the house. Well, at least their lives are going to mean something now, she thought.