The Little People’s Corps: The Climb

By Pixis

(With special thanks to Jamie Westwood for the loan of his characters and concept.)

            Commander Becky Radcliffe (formerly Holder) of the Little People’s Corps was feeling especially playful. It was a warm summer day and the sun was shining down upon the LPC headquarters most luxuriously. Other than the usual marching exercises for her troops, Becky’s schedule was free for the day and the young commander felt this would be the perfect opportunity to work on her tan. Swimsuit season was upon them and she knew how much her husband Paul loved her in a bikini. The sight left him utterly incoherent—as much in her power as when he had been reduced to little-person stature in their recent “experiment.”

On this particular morning, a most deliciously mischievous idea had occurred to Becky. She had hit upon a rather amusing way for her to unwind and still give some of her soldiers their requisite workout. The young woman was practically giddy with anticipation as her tiny inch-and-a-half tall troops marched in formation around her feet and under the arch of her high heels.

“At ease, boys,” the looming commander said, halting the march. Countless tiny little eyes gazed up at her, awaiting Becky’s next orders.

“I’m going to relax on the patio for a few hours so you’re dismissed for the afternoon,” Becky said, smiling down at her little men. “But I’d like to try out a new training exercise as well so I’ll need some assistance from a few of you. Any volunteers?”

Dozens of tiny hands shot into the air enthusiastically. Though they’d been marching all morning, the little-people never seemed to tire of their lovely commander’s company. Dropping to one knee (an action which sent a tremor through the streets of the domed Micropolis her troops resided in), Becky selected ten little men, scooping them up one or two at a time. Huge yet delicately formed fingers closed about their tiny bodies and lifted them skyward.

Becky held each man up to her giant eyes in turn and inspected her catch. “You guys will do nicely.” She carefully set the recruits at her feet. The rest of the soldiers were dismissed and soon began to disperse back to the barracks or the mess hall.

“Wait there while I go get changed,” she told her volunteers. Becky glanced at her watch and frowned. “On second thought, let’s just get started now.”

With a teasing and somewhat seductive smirk, Becky began to unbutton the white blouse of her uniform. The ten little soldiers could only gawk up in surprise as she slipped the shirt off her shoulders, revealing a flattering red bikini top underneath. A curvaceous bosom larger than several little-person houses was now on display in the sky above. Becky tossed her blouse onto the roof of one of the miniature barracks, covering the structure like a huge tarp.

“Hope no one was trying to read in there,” she giggled, as darkness enveloped the building. She slid her feet out of her high-heeled sandals and placed them off to the side of the barracks, not wishing to block the intersection with them.

With a wink, Becky began to shimmy her (comparatively) gigantic hips and slowly slipped off her skirt. The garment slid down her towering legs and fell to the street of the Micropolis, landing on top of the assembled group of soldiers.

Becky giggled once again and watched a number of small lumps wander aimlessly under the fabric of the giant dress. The commander cautiously stepped out of the center of the skirt and bent down to lift it off her recruits.

“Sorry, guys,” she laughed and set the skirt on the rooftop with her blouse.

With Becky now fully disrobed, the little-people could only stare up at her in awe. Commander Radcliffe’s gigantic bare feet stood planted a short distance before them, each dainty toe as large as they were. If they dared to lift their gaze, they saw an absolute monolith of creamy flesh stretching up into the heavens, its enticing curves barely contained by a bright red bikini.

“Sweet tap-dancing Christmas…” Private Reilly whispered under his breath. Slack-jawed, he couldn’t help but ogle the sexy giantess looming overhead.

“You can say that again,” said Private Robinson.

“Sweet tap-danc—” Reilly started to mutter.

“Shut up, both of ya!” Corporal Hargreaves hissed. “And lower your eyes! She’ll squish us if she catches you staring like that!”

Snapping them from their trance, Becky knelt down and placed her hand palm upward before the tiny men. “Well, hop on. This ain’t a free show, pipsqueaks.”

Becky carried the ten miniscule soldiers out onto the outdoor balcony that adjoined her office. She took a seat on a chaise-lounge and let the men disembark at the edge of the chair, once again next to her feet.

“Here’s the drill, fellas,” she said, sitting with her arms about her knees. “We’re going to play a little game called ‘Climb Mount Becky.’ You’ll start down here at my toes and the first one to make it all the way to the top…” Becky walked two fingers up the length of her body until they touched her forehead.

“…gets a prize. A date with my new lieutenant, Cindy. She’s been begging me to loan her a little-person for an off-duty evening. And she’s quite a tall drink of water so it’ll have to be someone who’s a good, ahem, mountain climber.”

The tiny soldiers murmured among themselves excitedly at this prospect. Becky hushed them quietly and resumed her instructions.

“Now, let’s establish some rules:

1. No cheating. If I see anyone pushing or shoving someone off me, it’s solitary confinement in the jewelry box for you.

2. Be careful. I’ll hold as still as possible but I imagine I’m still quite a treacherous landscape. Lots of places for you little guys to get lost! Hee hee!

3. Try not to linger anywhere too long. You’ll ruin my tan.

That about does it, I think. Let’s begin.”

Becky laid down on the lounge chair and leaned her head back. Within moments, the little men were scrambling up onto her feet and tickling her something awful. She resisted an urge to reflexively kick, for fear of launching them into the air. Even so, she had no intention of making this easy for them.

Becky playfully wiggled and flexed her toes, catching a few of the little-people between them. She squeezed them gently but firmly, amused by how helpless they were against the smallest extremities of her body. Just wait ‘til they see some of the sights farther north, she thought with a smile. Two of the soldiers were caught utterly by the grip of her toes, unable to proceed as their comrades pressed on.

“We’re toejam!” one of the unlucky explorers cried. “Forget us, lads! We’re done for! Save yourselves!”

An ally quickly rushed to their aid, trying in vain to pry them from the grasp of the monstrous toes. “A good soldier never leaves a man behind!”

“Oh, will you guys knock it off?” said Reilly, scrambling up the toes and onto the foot. “Drama queens.”

The survivors of this first challenge clambered up the slope of Becky’s insteps and over her delicate ankles. Before them was the more even terrain of her shins but the journey looked to be an arduous one. Becky’s long slender legs stretched off into the distance with the rolling hills of her upper body far off on the horizon. The little men scurried up the length of her legs, once again tickling her mightily. Becky bit her lip and tried to hold still.

Hurrying over the rise of her knees, the tiny explorers found themselves on the smooth, creamy plateaus of her thighs. These were thicker and wider than her lower legs and the men now had room to spread out. Several of them stood shoulder to shoulder as they marched onward but they soon overestimated the amount of space available. The soldiers on the outer edges began to lose their footing as the thigh gently curved downward. Sliding off the slippery skin, two men tumbled past Becky’s hips while another one slid down into the narrow crevasse formed between her thighs.

“Lucky,” Reilly murmured. “Always wanted to get between a giant lady’s legs…”

This latter one landed with a plop on the material of the chair and found himself utterly dwarfed by two walls of flesh on either side. Becky sensed his fall and was careful not to close her legs. Such an action would surely crush him like a ship sailing between the Clashing Rocks of ancient Greece.

Try as he might, there was no way to climb back up the slippery surface of the thigh. The little soldier was faced with a choice. He could either make the long sojourn back to the feet through the tunnel of Becky’s legs…or he could find another way up.

Gulping slightly, the little one turned to face the wide wall of red formed by Becky’s bikini bottom. He approached it hesitantly but took hold of the fabric, testing its strength. With trepidation, he pulled himself up and began to climb. The miniature man was well aware of the sensitive region which he was now quite close to. This was one area normally forbidden to the little-people. He hoped the commander would not squash him for being forward.

Becky gasped as she felt tiny hands and feet tickling her nether regions. Cheeky little fella, she thought to herself. She fought to maintain her composure but had to admit that the little man’s climb was rather…stimulating. It was, however, entirely inappropriate for a working relationship. She reached down between her legs and quickly scooped him up.

“‘A’ for effort,” she told the tiny figure caught by her finger and thumb. “But I’m afraid you’re out of bounds.” She extended her arm over to a nearby table and deposited him in an empty coffee cup.

The little ones tried to duck and cover as Becky’s arm swept past overhead. But they found there was no shelter as they approached her stomach. The flat, toned plane of the commander’s belly was spread before them like a barren desert. Feeling confident, they began to jog forward across Becky’s huge, smooth tummy.

As they crossed the soft, somewhat bouncy “ground,” a few of the little-people contemplated how many of their number could fit inside such a colossal belly. Becky was easily large enough to devour an entire platoon and still not be sated. The thought sent shivers through them, especially when a low, rumbling gurgle vibrated somewhere below.

“Oh, excuse me,” she said demurely as a second stomach growl knocked a man off his feet. Clearly, the commander had not yet had lunch. The sudden vibration sent the little man sprawling and he landed headfirst in Becky’s belly button.

“Hey, no one told me this was going to be a navel battle,” Reilly remarked. Beside him, Robinson snickered at the joke. Corporal Hargreaves simply glared at the pair of them.

“Keep marching, soldiers,” he barked.

The legs of the trapped little-person flailed wildly in the breeze behind them and his hands scraped the inside of Becky’s belly button as he tried to free himself. The living landscape shook below the soldiers as Becky squirmed from his ticklish thrashing. The remaining soldiers stumbled and fell as if struck by an earthquake.

“Ha ha ha, hey, quit it!” she ordered her new inadvertent navel jewelry. The tiny prisoner simply continued to fight for freedom.

Rather than dislodging the rest of the group with her movements, the young lady reached down and plucked the offending explorer out, dangling him by his leg in the air. She quickly dropped him into the coffee cup with his companion.

“I think you’re disqualified, little guy,” she said. Lying back down, she turned her attention to the remaining four who were approaching her chest.

Becky’s generous bosom loomed above them like mountains. Steeling themselves, the little men clambered up its smooth sloping curves, grasping her bikini top for support. The world seemed to rise and fall with each breath the giant officer took and the “hills” below them wobbled ever so slightly as the tiny creatures disturbed them with their climb. Several soldiers lost their balance and tumbled back down to the stomach. But after a few attempts, they had climbed to the very peak of this promontory.

They were now faced with a new challenge on the descent however. Becky’s healthy figure combined with the snug fit of the bikini top had forged a rather deep trench of cleavage at the center of the downward slope. If they didn’t watch their footing, they’d be swallowed up by this fleshy chasm.

The minute soldiers began to climb down but the angle of the “hill” made it all but impossible to keep their balance. Reilly and Robinson laughed hysterically as Corporal Hargreaves fell head over heels down the curve of Becky’s right breast. With a streak of unbecoming obscenities, he collided with Private Sanders, knocking him off his feet as well. Both men soon fell into the chasm and were subsumed.

“Whoa,” said Robinson in awe. “Talk about ‘dangerous curves.’”

Learning from their comrade’s mistake, Robinson and Reilly did not attempt to remain standing. Instead, they sat down on the peak of the breast and slid all the way down like toboggan riders. Within seconds, they had reached Becky’s collar bone.

“Lovely day for cave-diving, eh, Corporal?” Reilly called to Hargreaves’ furiously kicking legs, the only visible sign of the man. “Normally, I’d love to join you in there but pressing engagements and all, you know.”

Realizing they were the only ones left, the two friends cautiously walked along Becky’s neck, ever closer to their goal. Just to mess with them, Becky suddenly swallowed, causing her throat to bob under them and knock them off their feet. Undeterred, they picked themselves up and continued.

Reilly leaped up to grab hold of the underside of the commander’s chin and reached down to pull Robinson up after. They now faced perhaps the most intimidating obstacle of their journey—Becky’s mouth.

As they had observed moments earlier on the stomach, Commander Radcliffe’s overwhelming scale would make it simple for her to swallow them both in one gulp. With this thought in mind, they nervously approached her vast red lips. They were glad to see that, at present, Becky’s mouth was shut tight. But on closer observation, the giant lips seemed to be curled into a rather unnerving smile. The commander clearly had mischief on her mind.

“Uh…after you,” Robinson offered, waving a hand in front of him.

“No, no, after you!” Reilly shot back. “I insist!”

With hesitation, Private Robinson stepped onto the soft, pliant surface of Becky’s lower lip. Experimentally, he extended a leg towards the upper lip. It came as no surprise to anyone when Becky chose that moment to open wide.

The massive lips parted and Robinson found himself standing precariously on one foot, trying not to tumble into the void. He had almost regained his balance when Becky thrust her tongue upward. She swept it over her lip in a graceful motion and lapped Robinson up like a cat. The tongue retreated back into the yawning cavern, carrying a startled passenger with it. The lips soon closed behind him and Becky smiled devilishly once more.

In truth, this was not the first time she’d had a little-person in her mouth. When her troops were disobedient, Becky occasionally sent them into this orifice as punishment, armed with tiny brushes to scrub her teeth or remove particles of food from hard to reach places. This was called “Oral Hygiene Duty” or “The O.H.” as her troops had nicknamed it.

Usually, they were given a lifeline of dental floss as a precaution but now and then, Becky popped someone in unfettered. She prided herself on the fact that she had never swallowed a man in the line of duty.

With her lips closed, Becky swished Private Robinson about with her tongue, sliding him around her mouth. Robinson trusted his commander implicitly but was nonetheless scared out of his wits by the experience. His heart was pounding at the thought of how easily he could be gulped down whole and alive. It would take no more effort on the young lady’s part than swallowing a grape.

Becky bounced the little man playfully on the surface of her tongue before realizing that his ally was about to scurry across her closed lips. Her mouth shot open once again, ready to catch him, and Reilly came to a halt at the edge. He peered down into the deadly gap and saw Robinson clinging to the woman’s back teeth.

“Jump, Reilly!” he called up to his friend. “It’s a leap of faith!”

“You’ve been watching too many Harrison Ford movies, pal!” Reilly shouted down to him. Even so, he took a few paces back and jumped across the opening of Becky’s mouth.

As expected, her tongue thrust up to meet him and Reilly crashed into the slippery muscle in midair. Clinging to it tightly, he felt the tongue retracting and sensed himself being drawn in. With a bit of effort, Reilly pulled himself further up Becky’s tongue and crouched uneasily on the tip. He then flung himself the rest of the way across, landing in a heap on her upper lip.

Intrigued by this daring maneuver, Becky pulled her tongue back in and amused herself by lightly sucking on Robinson like a peppermint. She went cross-eyed trying to follow Reilly’s progress as he dodged the vacuum pull of her nostrils. Little-people were not quite small enough to be inhaled but Reilly’s head could potentially become lodged in her nose. And a sneeze would likely launch him into orbit. Avoiding this peril, he rounded her nose, hopped over her eye, and scuttled up onto her forehead.

“I win! I win!” the little man shouted triumphantly. He wrapped a strand of silky brown hair around his shoulders like a feather boa and addressed an imagined crowd. “Thank you, no pictures please. It was a perilous journey but I persevered. The pride of the Corps could do no less.”

The world went vertical as Becky sat up and plucked Private Reilly off of her head. She held him in the palm of her hand and smiled.

“Nyz wook,” the commander mumbled.

“Beg pardon?” Reilly asked.

“Oh, sowwy,” Becky said. She opened up and pulled Robinson out of her mouth, holding him in her other hand. “There, that’s better. You know, you’re kind of yummy, little guy. Better watch out that some gal doesn’t gobble you up.” She brought him close to her lips and gave his tiny face a kiss.

“As I was saying, nice work, Private, er….” She squinted and took a closer look at the winner. “…Reilly.”

Setting the two men on the table, Becky set about the task of retrieving their associates from about her person. She scooped up the men on the chair who had slipped off her hips (and were now in danger of being sat on if she shifted position). She lifted a foot and extracted the two trapped soldiers from between her toes. With a mischievous little wiggle of her torso, she shook Hargreaves and Sanders about in her décolletage before reaching in to fish them out as well. All the runners up were deposited in the coffee cup, which by now had become a bit cramped.

Becky went back into the apartment with Reilly in one hand and the cup in the other. She approached the phone and looked down at the tiny figure in her palm. “I’ll call Cindy now so you can collect your prize. Have you thought about what you want to do on your date?”

Reilly glanced down at his crowded and grumbling cohorts inside the mug. “Hmm…maybe I’ll invite her up here for a cup of coffee. Mind if I borrow that?”

As the troops in the mug voiced their protests, Becky found herself giggling once again.

The End