I’ve been out for a long time. Where am I? I can barely move; I’m stuck between a rock and a … soft place. The rock looks clear and white, like ice but it’s not cold. The soft surface feels like leather but softer, and warm. “OH MY GOD!” I suddenly remember where I am; I’m the grime underneath Monica’s fingernail. She tried to squish me under her fingernail. Okay, don’t panic; asses the situation. We don’t appear to be moving; when I say we, I mean me and Monica’s finger. Hours must have passed so she could be at home resting. In any case I have to get out. I struggle, wiggling back and forth gaining a little leverage and slowly loosening up. I turned my head only to almost wet myself when I see a giant bug head, only it is crushed. I quicken my pace until I can sit up while still under her nail. I look back at the bug to see it in fact is only a head; Monica must have cut of the head with her nail before shoving it up her nail and crushing it… she could have done that so me. All of a sudden, the ground started to shake and the space between her nail and finger closed quickly so I jumped out and grabbed on to her finger prints. The nail stayed closed for only a minute, when it started to ascend again, I grabbed on and rose with it. I climbed atop her unpainted nail. I estimated that it was about forty feet long from the white tip to the skin. I started toward the skin when I noticed how clumsily I was walking; the nail wasn’t painted, it was polished; I figured I should hurry toward the skin, so I moved quickly but steadily. I was about halfway there when there was another tremor and her finger pressed down again; I lost my balance and slid down the curve of her nail until I hit the crevice on the side of her nail. The skin on the side of the nail was about three feet tall so I used it to help me get up when the thought occurred to me; could she be doing this to me, is she watching me? I quickly looked around for her face. Way off in the horizon, beyond two mountains, I saw her chin pointing upwards with her nose just above that. She was sleeping? The two tremors I felt before were the slight pressing of her finger while she slept. I continued towards end beginning of her nail using the skin on the side of her nail as a guard rail.
            I got to the skin and walked over the small hill and saw just how large her finger was. Her finger was as longer than a football field; next to the finger I was on was her middle finger which looked even more massive. I could barely imagine how big her hand was, let alone her entire body. I quickly formulated the plan; I would run to each knuckle and rest for a moment, then make the big dash and run to the hair on her arm where I could hold some hairs while I scaled her entire arm; beyond that, I had no idea what to do. I ran hard for about thirty feet before reaching the first knuckle of which I noticed that I could lay in the cracks completely. Then I ran to the second knuckle to find deep trenches that could have been used in WWI. I prepped myself for the long dash; it was another football field distance to the first few small hairs. Before that, I didn’t think she had hair on her arms, but each strand looked much taller than me. There were four major trenches to this knuckle and it looked like I could jump them all while running. I backed up a little to gain speed and realized what I was about to do; I had to run and jump over the cracks in a girls knuckle, sprint across her hand, and use her arm hair as support. I am so small and so screwed. I ran, I jumped over the first trench, barely made it across the second, but before getting to the third, there was a tremendous tremor. I fell and rolled into the third crack of her knuckle; the fall was about six feet. The tremor kept up so I could stand while in the knuckle so I just looked up.

Using the ceiling as a reference point, I noticed we were headed towards her head, but then we stopped. We started up again but away from her head. We kept going until a black sky took over, her bed sheets! As we kept moving even when a second ceiling came over her hand, it got warmer and warmer; when we stopped it was almost hot. I knew where we were, under her panties. It was hot and humid, and the smell, it smelled like a woman, so potent. We didn’t quite stop, I could feel motion and I could hear her fingers rustling through her pubic hair; it almost sounded like trees bending in the wind. Her finger moved in a circular motion and I knew what was coming, I prayed to god it wouldn’t, but it did. All of a sudden, her finger bent at the knuckle I was at and half her finger plummeted into her vagina. The knuckle I was in opened up and I started to fall, I grabbed on to the edge of it with one hand but I couldn’t hold, not with the heat rising from below; my hand slipped. I fell and fell for what seemed like ages; it was pitch black so I couldn’t see when I would land, but I did. The hit felt like I landed on concrete but I sank into it, I sank deep. I knew I had to swim up to get air but two things prevented me from doing this. The fluid, which I realized shortly after the impact was Monica’s vaginal fluids, it was so viscous it was like trying to swim in syrup, and in the pitch black darkness, I couldn’t tell which way was up and out. I swam despite not knowing where to go. The fluid was so and encompassing that I wouldn’t have minded dying there, save for the whole drowning thing. Then I felt a huge rush of fluid going down, then up, and down again. I figured it was her finger or fingers; if she only knew, a human being was drowning in her pleasure. Or maybe she knew, and she was getting pleasure knowing that I was drowning while in her. I couldn’t think about this long because her finger came at me and pressed me against the wall of her vagina; whatever air I had left was pressed out of me. I had to get air quick. Then a huge burst of fluid rushed up as she had an orgasm. I was rushed up and above her vagina as her fluids flooded a small area into her bush. I could breath again. I just rested there, bad idea I fell asleep.