Rays from the late morning sun shone through the dorm room window, nudging Pierce out of a deep sleep. His crusty eyes slowly opened as he felt around his wiry bed, picking up on the subtle pulse beneath where he lay. In the distance, Jackie peered down at him between her giant breasts, panning down her torso to watch her boyfriend awaken on her crotch.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Her grin opened his eyes, filling his drowsy head with more energy than a cup of coffee.
“Have you been up long?” he asked. Pierce sat up on Jackie's pubes, both embarrassed to have fallen asleep there and eager to do so again. The faded scent of her arousal remained from the night prior.
“Kinda. I didn't want to move and disturb you. I can't go very far with you lying on top of me.” Now that her lover was awake, Jackie rose and leaned against her headboard, keeping her lower half flat on the mattress. She reached out her forefinger and rubbed Pierce's back. The tiny gripped her pubes as tingles shot through his spine, eliciting a sigh from him. She loved the feeling of his little hands grabbing onto her. “I don't mind. You're cute when you're asleep. Have any sweet dreams?”
“Last night felt like a dream. The kind you never want to wake up from.”
“But it really happened, so in a sense you never have to.” A loud gurgling erupted from Jackie's stomach, interrupting their conversation. “Is it alright if we get up now?”
Pierce's stomach growled in response, not quite as loud but just as fierce. “Sounds good to me.”
Jackie scooped her man into her hand and carried him to her dresser, pulling out an oversized pajama shirt and putting it on, slipping Pierce through the arm hole as she held him in her fist.
“Um, what about my clothes?” Pierce asked as Jackie carried him naked into the kitchenette, their whereabouts unknown on the vast expanse of carpet beside Jackie's bed.
“You won't need them.” Jackie refused to elaborate. In the kitchenette, she opened one of the hanging cabinets and set Pierce inside. The bottom shelf was lined with tiny treats, from cereals to candies to canned goods and more. Jackie had enough supplies to make a tiny prepper proud or fill a small grocery store. “Take whatever you'd like. I've got plenty.”
Pierce turned around and peeked over the edge of the cabinet to the deadly drop below. “How does Lynn get up here?”
“She doesn't. This is my stash. Lynn keeps her food in her room.” Jackie pointed to the bed opposite hers, specifically to the fully furnished living space hidden beneath its frame. “I have cold and frozen stuff in the fridge if you'd like that instead.”
“You eat tiny cereal for breakfast?” Pierce picked up a box of Pip Tarts, Kelloggs’ miniature toaster pastries.
“Just as a snack when I want something light.” Jackie grabbed a full size box of Cheerios from her pantry and poured them into a bowl, filling it with milk before setting it in the microwave. While that heated for thirty seconds, she raised her hand to the hanging cabinet for Pierce to step on with his breakfast in hand. The microwave beeped, and with her other hand, Jackie opened the see-through door to grab the hot bowl, bringing both it and her boyfriend to the kitchen table.
“Ever eat breakfast in a hot tub before?” she asked, holding him directly over the warm cereal.
“I haven't been in a hot tub period.” Pierce lowered himself off Jackie's hand, hanging off her fingers before dropping into the steamy milk. The hot liquid and the familiar, almost nostalgic smell soothed Pierce as he sat down among the floating Cheerios. Never in his life did he expect to willingly plunge into a giant's bowl of cereal, but he felt safer sitting in Jackie’s breakfast than he would anywhere else in the big district.
Jackie stuck her spoon in and spun it around the bowl before scooping up the pieces nearest Pierce. Milk dripped from her spoon before disappearing into the monstrous maw. Moments later, the spoon slipped out from between her lips, its contents gone without a trace. Jackie smashed the processed grain to bits with her teeth, immediately discerning the enhancements Pierce's flavor brought to her breakfast. “Mmmmmmmmmm!”
“Do I really taste that good?” Pierce took a bite of his Pip Tart. Wild berry flavor. It contained astronomically less sugar than the full-sized product to better fit the tinies’ more sensitive palates. “Better than the Vore Suit?”
“You are quickly becoming my favorite food. If I was on death row, I'd request you as my final meal.” Jackie spooned more cereal into her mouth, resisting the incredible urge to scoop Pierce up along with it. Pierce watched her chew, every crunch a reminder of the power behind his girlfriend's jaw. “The best part: your flavor belongs exclusively to me. I'm the only one in the whole world who gets to taste such an appetizing delicacy whenever I so wish.”
Pierce chuckled, oddly charmed by the unusual compliment. “Then you have more reason to request me as your last meal. You can't have anyone else tasting me once you're gone.”
Jackie's eyes lit up. “That's a great point! Besides, why even go on living if I'm not there with you?” Jackie snickered at her own joke, bearing a striking resemblance to her identical twin to the tiny in her cereal bowl. “Fuck, that's really hot though. Can we roleplay that later?”
“We'll need an orange jumpsuit. Can't execute you in your pajamas, y'know.”
“The Halloween store is still open. Now's the time to stock up because everything will be on sale.” Feeling daring, Jackie dipped her spoon under Pierce's butt, scooping him up with a pool of milk. Pierce, dropping what remained of his breakfast pastry, gripped onto the metallic rim to maintain his balance as his girlfriend lifted him to her mouth. Opening up, bits of chewed cereal and puddles of milk coated her tongue and gums, splattered about like a gruesome crime scene. Her lips hovered past Pierce and sealed around the other end of the spoon before pulling inward and swiping him off of his seat.
Pierce landed on his girlfriend’s massive tongue, splashed by the milk that came in with him. He lost count how many times he wound up in her maw these past two days. To think the thought of getting trapped in here once frightened him. Now, he knew his way around the dank cavern better than her dorm room. She’ll slam me into the roof of her mouth in 3… 2… 1…
Jackie slammed Pierce into the roof of her mouth, kneading him into her palate with her tongue. Taste buds danced across his skin, wedging themselves into every fold as Jackie sucked on her sweetling. Crumbs pelted Pierce's tiny frame and eroded to dust under the strength of Jackie's tongue. Saliva and milk crashed into Pierce's face, leaving him a sputtering mess. Eventually, the omnipresent tongue let up, slowly lowering him from its vice grip. Now, she's gonna roll me over her molars and rub me into her cheek.
Then, Jackie rolled her man-meat over her molars and used the tip of her tongue to press him into her cheek, creating a Pierce shaped bulge outside her mouth. She lapped him up from head to foot, groping that succulent ass with her tensile muscle. The predictability of Jackie's actions did nothing to reduce the swelling in Pierce's crotch, her inner cheek molding around his hard-on. But Pierce held firm, unwilling to relent so easily this time. If Jackie wanted his special sauce so bad, she'd have to earn it.
Unfortunately for Pierce, Jackie had more tricks up her sleeve. Her tongue pried him off her cheek and deposited him behind her front teeth, his puny legs straddling her frenulum and his back resting against the ivory pillars rising from the giantess’ gums. Jackie snuck the tip of her tongue under Pierce's cock before pushing him up by the taint. She opened her mouth, letting the morning light stream into the tiny's living dungeon, and lifted Pierce part way past her lips before withdrawing her tongue and lowering him back inside, scratching her lover's back with her bottom incisors.
Pierce gripped Jackie's pointed canines in either hand. The pressure put upon his balls plus the soothing abrasion on his back propelled him to unforeseen heights, the resistance he put up reduced to shambles. Jackie raised him past her teeth and onto her lower lip. Her upper lip came down on him like a vice, clenching his waist so that his lower half remained at the complete mercy of her tongue. While the flat pink snake struck between the legs, Jackie sucked on Pierce’s privates with enough force to tear him in half. Pierce banged his fists uselessly against the wall of Jackie's philtrum, his girlfriend unrelenting in her pursuit.
With his defenses shattered beyond repair, Pierce came into Jackie’s mouth. The woman’s tongue swarmed his nethers, determined not to miss a single drop of the salty nectar. She drooled Pierce out into her hand and swallowed the contents within, holding her other hand to her throat in ecstasy. After savoring her precious delicacy, Jackie kissed her exhausted boyfriend and returned him to his milk bath.
“Now that's a balanced breakfast.” Jackie smiled and scooped another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.
Pierce heaved and hawed. The pool of warm milk melted his weary bones. “You … you gotta … you gotta take it easy on me. At this rate … I'll be all dried out by this evening.”
“Like a raisin? That sounds kinda good, actually.” Jackie licked her lips, delighting in her prey's expression: fear mixed with lust mixed with concern mixed with confidence. “Lunch isn’t for a few hours. That's plenty of time to recover.” … Mixed with dread.
Jackie continued eating her breakfast. Her actual breakfast. Pierce fished what remained of his Pip Tart from the soup. It was soggy all the way through, but it managed to return some of the energy he lost feeding his ravenous girlfriend.
“If you’ve got nothing going on today, wanna just hang out here?” Jackie asked. “I don’t know when Lynn will be back, or if she’s staying with Alena all day, but I ain’t stepping one foot out of this room. Yesterday wore me out.”
You sure don’t show it, Pierce thought, watching Jackie scarf down Cheerios. “Here’s fine. I don’t have anywhere else I wanna be. But,” he gave himself a once over, “I’m gonna need a bath.”
“That can be arranged,” Jackie said, smirking. “We don’t have a tiny tub. You’d have to use the dorm’s public showers. Or …” She rested her chin in her hand and looked off dreamily. “… we could squeeze you into my tub. I’m sure there’s enough room for the both of us. Whichever you prefer.”
“Gee, bathe with strangers or my lovely girlfriend? What a tough choice.”
“Aren’t I considerate giving you options? Of course, choose wrong and I’ll never forgive you.” Finishing her cereal, Jackie picked up the bowl and tilted it towards her mouth, slurping the milk out of it. Pierce flowed with it, caught by Jackie’s pillowy vermilion bumper. She tilted the bowl upwards until it was empty, dropping Pierce onto her lips as she set it down. Pierce kissed her upper lip, the rest of him engulfed by her embrace, and prayed she didn’t open that ever hungry maw of hers again.
After a while, Jackie pinched Pierce between her fingers and pulled him off her mouth, licking his lingering taste off her lips. Standing up, she set her bowl by the sink to wash later and carried her boyfriend off into the bathroom.
The dorm room's private bathroom was just large enough to fit the essentials. A sink, toilet, bathtub, and cabinet shared the cramped space, each positioned together with an inch of separation.
Jackie placed Pierce on the shower caddy beside towering bottles of shampoo and bodywash and turned the faucet on. Even her loofah was so big it'd be a struggle to fit in Pierce's house. Pierce's legs dangled through the caddy's grated floor, the tiny finding his balance on the bars’ cross section. While the water heated up, Jackie pulled her oversized shirt off over her head and tossed it to the floor. Pierce's heart thumbed louder than the shower's crashing stream. The short time Jackie's fun bags spent covered sparked in Pierce a yearning to see them bask in all their glory again.
As steam rose out of the tub, Jackie stepped inside, brushing her hair back as water ran down the length of her body and caressed her every curve. The caddy hung opposite Jackie's generous chest, suspended from the wall via suction cups, giving Pierce front row seats right in the splash zone.
Jackie grabbed the bottle of body wash, flipped open the cap, and pointed it at her boyfriend. Pierce looked up at it with his head cocked. Were anyone else holding the bottle, he’d wince at the sight of the nozzle, but he knew Jackie wasn’t about to spray him down with soap. Eventually, he realized what Jackie was up to and held out his hand. A dollop of strawberry scented body wash seeped into his cupped hand with which to wash himself.
Jackie then grabbed the loofah and doused it in pink soap before setting the bottle back on the shelf. She lathered herself in suds, starting at her chest and touching every part of her, coating her soaking bod in strawberry scented bubbles. Pierce watched unblinking, soap dripping through his frozen fingers.
“Earth to Pierce. Is there a problem?” Jackie smiled down at him, though it took a moment for Pierce to notice. His eyes were trained forward, gravity drawing his gaze towards the twin planets. When he finally became aware of himself, Pierce’s face burned beet red. He turned away and scrubbed himself aimlessly, smearing what body wash still remained on his chest.
“S-sorry.”
“What are you doing? I can’t get a good view if you sit like that.” The tiny turned back to face her, eyes wide. Jackie stared down at him with hunger in her eyes, her lower lip nestled behind her front teeth. “Or perhaps … you wanted to get more involved?”
Jackie dropped her loofah next to Pierce, the object so light despite its tremendous size, and pinched her boyfriend between her fingers. She studied him and pondered the best method of cleaning them both. “Best,” of course, not necessarily equating to “most effective.” The tips of her fingers pressed softly around him, holding him up so she could examine his features. She kept him out of the shower’s stream, currently pelting her chest, the current much too strong for him. Looking him over, a light bulb went off.
Jackie picked up the body wash again and pointed it at Pierce, not waiting for him to hold his hand out this time. She plopped a heap of soap on his torso, like topping a sundae with chocolate sauce. Stepping away from the water, she pressed the sudsy tiny into the side of her breast and lathered herself with him.
Up and down, Pierce traveled across his girlfriend’s supple skin, enveloped in balmy heat. With a finger to his back and two on either side, Jackie rubbed her lover’s torso into her, his pelvis catching along the ride, but kept his face off her skin. She didn’t want soap to get into his eyes or mouth. I’ll have to buy the sensitive stuff for next time.
Pierce did not perform well as a loofah, nor did Jackie’s gargantuan rack effectively wash his puny body, but she loved feeling his minute pulse beat against her own, and he’d be a fool to deny the elation that came from her overwhelming embrace. Jackie rubbed her darling all over chest, under and around her every curve. Not long into it, Pierce lost the soap coating him, doing nothing more than spreading water across Jackie’s wet knockers. In a fit of depravity, he slurped a drop of bath water from Jackie’s underboob, quenching his thirst in more ways than one. The giant woman felt those itty-bitty lips suckle her sodden skin and fought back a laugh, instead wedging her diminutive lover deep beneath her bosom.
With Pierce secured, Jackie filled her hand with her tit and massaged it into her sternum, kneading her heaping flesh into her entrapped lover, pricking herself on his unbending blade. She continued mashing her own buttons to waggle his joystick until she remembered what her boy toy told her at breakfast about going easy on him. The once reserved girl wasn’t sure what came over her these past twenty-four hours. Were years of sexual unfulfillment coming to a head in an explosion of degeneracy? Did roleplaying a gigantic monster for hours on end unearth a primal craving to thoroughly dominate another person? Did the size difference between her and her boyfriend lead the giantess to treat him as a snack first, toy second, and loving partner a distant third?
Whether a clear answer existed or not didn’t matter. Looking at Pierce made Jackie hungry, and holding him made her horny, and there were no more barriers in place to prevent her from acting on those urges. She had plenty of reassurance that Pierce was along for the ride, and his consent empowered her to act out the fantasies before only allowed in her dreams. Still, if he was going to provide for her come lunchtime, she’d have to learn to treat him more gently in the interim.
Mercifully, Jackie removed Pierce from her underboob, holding him up beside the stream of water. His head wobbled as he adjusted to the empty space around him. Giggling, Jackie placed him back on the shower caddy and squeezed a paltry sum of body wash onto him, retrieving her loofah so they could both actually clean themselves before they ran out of hot water. Pierce followed his lover’s lead and scrubbed all the bits Jackie’s bulbous breasts couldn’t reach. The couple’s eyes rarely left the other’s body as they washed up, each enjoying the show the other wittingly put on.
Jackie first rinsed herself off. Then, she cupped her hands to fill them with water, and slowly poured it over Pierce for him to rinse off himself. Now clean, Jackie turned off the faucet and stepped out with Pierce in her hand, walking over to the towels. The tiny took two seconds to dry, Jackie swaddling him with a towel corner before setting him down on the floor and turning her attention to herself.
Water dripped off Jackie’s looming figure, threatening to splash the nearby Pierce. He neither noticed nor cared, fixated on his towering girlfriend wipe herself down above him. She snuck a couple glances his way and found herself shocked. She expected his focus to lie on her bare feet in front of him, not wandering up her legs to appreciate the rest of her. Was she actually attractive enough to steal him away from the obvious bait? The thought made her heart soar.
Jackie put her foot down, stepping dangerously close to her tiny boyfriend. Pierce sat in the gap between his girl’s big and index toe, spread apart just enough to fit him inside. Jackie swooned at consuming Pierce’s undivided attention, but she wanted to make certain that her heavy artillery was still in working order. As expected, Pierce’s gaze shot down to the limb in front of him, his other head pointing up in such close proximity to her webbing. She saw from her bird’s eye view his chest heaving as his breathing grew flustered, and a wry smirk etched across her cheeks.
Fully dry, save for her damp hair, Jackie scrunched her toes, squeezing Pierce’s thick bod to grip onto him. She raised her foot past her other knee and snatched Pierce up in her fingers. Despite the hasty ascension, Pierce wasn’t rattled at all, Jackie’s motions as smooth and thrilling as a meticulously engineered theme park ride.
Jackie brought her man to her lips and buried him in them. The smell of strawberry wafted up through her nostrils, and it took an incredible amount of will power to not toss him once more past the vermilion gates. Pierce reciprocated her love by kissing her upper lip; the tiny found himself developing a taste for his partner as well.
All cleaned up, Jackie exited the bathroom with Pierce in tow. She found his clothes scattered on the floor beside her bed and placed her boyfriend on the carpet so he could dress himself. Meanwhile, she approached her dresser and picked out her outfit: a tank top, sweats, and a fresh pair of pink fuzzy socks.
“Want to play Street Fighter?” Jackie asked, picking up the now clothed Pierce and carrying him to her desk. She placed him before her monitor, a tiny-scaled gaming chair situated on the desktop. It was Lynn’s, colored black and pink with a cute cat skull pattern on the head rest, but Pierce had been using it whenever he and Jackie gamed together. “I haven’t touched it in a while, so maybe you can actually beat me in this one.”
“You’re on. I’m way better at traditional fighters than the niche anime ones you’re obsessed with.”
“Guilty Gear hasn’t been niche in decades.” Jackie reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a huge arcade stick covered in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure artwork. “Stick or pad?”
“Pad.” Jackie pulled a mini Dualshock out of the drawer and handed it to Pierce, sitting down behind him in her appropriately scaled gamer chair and booting up Street Fighter 9. “What’re we wagering?”
“If I win, you have to spend the next half hour in my mouth.”
Damn. She’s insatiable. “Fine, but if I win, I get to spend it in your sock.” He’d been eyeing the pink booties since she put them on.
“That almost sounds like a punishment in and of itself.” Jackie wiggled her toes beneath the desk, imagining what Pierce would feel like lodged between them. “But I accept your terms.”
Skipping through the menus into the versus screen, Jackie selected Morrigan. The green haired succubus had not received a new entry in her own series since Jackie’s parents were themselves children, but she still appeared as a guest character in the franchises Capcom actually cared about.
Pierce picked Cyber Zangief. In Street Fighter 8’s story mode, an empowered M. Bison killed Zangief, a decision universally derided by fans, so the developers immediately backpedaled upon the next game's release and resurrected the shortly dead character, upgrading his arsenal by giving his grabs more range.
“Round one,” the game announced. “Fight!”
Jackie and Pierce both shut up to concentrate on their play, the dorm room suffused with the cacophony of clacking buttons. Morrigan’s projectiles gave Jackie an edge over Pierce’s grappler, but the devs gave Cyber Zangief so many tools to close the distance that the tiny had little issue applying pressure to his giant girlfriend.
Round one went to Pierce, but Jackie found her stride in round two. The third round went down to the wire, but Jackie pulled ahead with a clutch mixup, winning the match.
“F-first to three! First to three!” Pierce begged.
“Oh, now you want to use tourney rules.” Jackie rolled her eyes. “Save yourself the embarrassment and forfeit now. It’s only going to get worse from here.”
“No way! I’m not used to fighting Morrigan is all. Give me a rematch. I’ll win!” Pierce was going in those socks. He'd topple any brick wall that stood in his way, even if that wall went by the name of Jackie Richards.
“Then we go double or nothing. A whole hour. That's my condition.”
Pierce hesitated. He couldn't last that long, not while still recovering from that morning and the night prior. He'd be lucky to become a raisin; a husk was more likely. And then there was Jackie. Pierce knew how miraculous it was that she resisted swallowing him for this long, but after an entire consecutive hour even the most domesticated predator would bite the hand that fed it.
But on the flipside, sixty minutes nuzzled up to those perfect peds. If Heaven existed on Earth, then those fuzzy pink socks housed it.
“Deal.” Pierce improved in the second match, adding validity to his salty johns. He won it and the third match by slim margins, but Jackie got her revenge in the fourth. On the final round of the final set, the couple brought it down to the wire. Jackie had the life lead, but a critical art would be enough to take her out. It all came down to mind games, predicting their partner’s next move.
He's desperate. He's going to use his level 3. Jackie had plenty of opportunity to jump out of the way and retaliate, winning the game in a single stroke, but she hesitated, reconsidering how best to approach the current circumstances. At the last second, she threw out an attack instead.
“Ha!” Pierce activated his super just as Jackie predicted, catching Morrigan on her startup frames and dealing to her the decisive blow. “I did it! I actually did it!” Pierce leapt off the chair and looked up at his girlfriend with a big, goofy grin.
Jackie sighed and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the smirk forming at her lips. “Good game. Now for your ‘reward.’” Jackie scooted back and planted her heels on the desk, the pink soles towering over the tiny. “Left or right? As the winner, I'll let you decide.”
Pierce stared at the fuzzy monoliths in awe, craning his neck to peer at her toes and tilting his head down to her heels, appreciating every inch between. “R-right.” Jackie was right-handed, so her right foot must be her dominant foot. Not that Pierce was sure if dominant feet were a thing, but it couldn’t hurt to take the possibility into account.
“Then right it shall be.” She bent forward, pinched the tip of her right sock, and slid it off her foot, baring her sole for her enamored boyfriend. Her foot sheened with a light coat of sweat gathered while gaming. A faint, musty smell accompanied the scent of the strawberry bodywash, driving Pierce wild as it enveloped him. Jackie set her feet down on the floor and held her sock open at the edge of the desk, close of enough for Pierce to jump into. “Come on in.”
Pierce set his controller down, ran towards Jackie, and did a canonball through the fluffy pink hole. The sock's heel caught him like a net, and gravity rolled him towards the toes, the damp fabric spritzing him on the way down. The sock’s interior was luxuriously soft, fit for a queen or for a college student to walk around in her apartment. Pierce grew disoriented by the encroaching pink, curling into the sock’s tip as if it were a hammock. Jackie’s musk permeated within Pierce’s fuzzy prison, filling every breath with anticipation for what came next.
Dangling in the air, the world around Pierce shook as Jackie stuffed her foot into her sock. Her toes filled up the empty space like a burrowing animal, inching toward Pierce as they cornered him to the end of the sock. Within a second, Jackie's toes were on top of him, scrunching him under their arches and squeezing him against the ball of her foot. Pierce, bound by a living cage, couldn't move. With his arms pinned to his sides, he squirmed uselessly against the weight of Jackie's foot, her toes unbudging, the pressure unrelenting.
Jackie rested her foot on the floor, pressing her toes lightly into the carpet. She felt Pierce wriggle against her, his rapid heartbeat pounding into her sole. She found his futile struggling equal parts invigorating and concerning. “Let me know if you want out early, or if I need to ease up.”
“Not a chance!” He shouted with gusto to ensure his muffled voice reached his girlfriend's ears. The sock's padding proved comfier than his own mattress, and no blanket, weighted or heated, held a candle to the all-encompassing embrace of Jackie's foot. And in case his words weren't enough, and because he really wanted to, Pierce kissed the base of Jackie’s index toe.
Reassured, Jackie scrunched him harder as if doing so would squeeze more kisses out of him. By happenstance, it worked. Pierce wormed his way under the big toe and kissed it until the tantalizing taste left on his lips drew his tongue out.
Jackie squeezed Pierce extra tight as his tongue crawled along the base of her big toe, the sudden degenerate act stimulating her senses, almost tickling her. Sitting in her chair, Jackie lifted both feet and mashed her soles together, slamming and grinding Pierce in a pedial pincher attack.
Betwixt the shifting walls of feet and fuzz, Pierce slipped out from his toe-barred cage across the ball and into Jackie's arch, his body treated as mercilessly as a pebble that snuck its way into the giant woman's sock. Amidst the turmoil, Pierce gripped onto his partner's sleek, sweaty skin and massaged what of her arch was within reach.
Jackie purred at her lover's display of devotion. The bulge forming beneath the meager man's shorts amused her to no end. “Are you sure you can last an hour in there? Remember, I expect a hearty meal come lunchtime.”
Pierce gulped. A dreadful realization surfaced beneath his gluttonous girlfriend. “And dinner?” he squeaked.
“Oh, we're talking full course, babe. Appetizer, entree, and desert!”
Pierce recognized today, November 1, 2045, as his last day among the living. He threw his entire existence into worshiping every inch of Jackie’s sole, knowing this may well be his only chance to do so. At least I won’t die a virgin.
Jackie lowered her feet and scooted closer to her desk, returning to her game to play against others online. As she bounced through menus, she continued to play with the man in her sock, aimlessly grinding her foot into the floor to the desired response of fervent rubbing and kissing.
Throughout the hour, Pierce traveled back and forth along his girlfriend’s vast sole, either by crawling under his own strength or dragged by Jackie as she brushed her foot against the floor, drawing hearts into the carpet. By the time the hour was up, Jackie went down a whole rank in Street Fighter, her attention divided between the game and the love of her life.
******
“Mmmmmmmmm.” Heather stirred to life on her California king bed. “Good morning,” she said, turning to the empty pillow beside hers. She expected to find her lover sleeping next to her, but there was no one there to greet her. Oh, right. Not used to dating a tiny. His head can’t quite reach the pillow, can it?
Heather sat up, stretched, and scratched her butt. Her comforter stuck to her crotch where last night's arousal soaked and dried. A slight pain pounded in her head, a small reminder of how worn out she was when she fell asleep. She groggily scanned the length of the bedspread, hoping to find a tiny man somewhere on it.
“Javi?” Heather looked around, checking where she laid and where she now sat, peeking under the pillows and everything. She couldn't find her boyfriend anywhere on the bed. “Javi, where are you?”
She stared at the floor beside her bed, triple checking before putting her feet down to make sure she didn't step on him. She searched her bedroom, turning up no results as she circled her bed. She even checked the drawers of her nightstands. Big surprise, he wasn’t in them.
“Javi?” Heather stepped out of her bedroom, confusion turning to worry. The penthouse’s upper floor had no doors, save the one to the bathroom. Glass dividers separated the bedroom from the in-house gym, from the bathroom, each capable of dimming until opaque with the flip of a switch. Heather peered through the clear walls and found no tinies on the other sides.
She reached the floating staircase overlooking the rest of the penthouse suite and saw no signs of her lover anywhere.
Where the hell could he be? Heather thought. Did he leave? No, he said he wouldn't. But … Tears welled in her eyes. Javi was different; he was supposed to be different than all the losers before him, but what if … No! He wouldn't lie to me. Last night was real. What we shared was real. It wasn't a fucking fairytale! So, where the fuck is he?
“Heather? Are you awake?” Heather's ears perked up at the sound of Javi’s voice. It was distant, like it was coming from another room, but she was certain she heard him.
“Javi? Is that you? Where are you?” She turned her gaze every which way, scanning the floor around her to no avail.
“In here. You don't remember?”
In here? In where, you idiot! Then Heather remembered. She remembered what they did on her bed. She remembered where he was when she fell asleep. She remembered what she forgot to do. “Oh my God!”
Heather rushed into her bedroom and bent over her mattress. She plunged a couple fingers into her anus and retrieved the puny man from her rectum, pulling him out with a plop! Once Javi was outside again, Heather crawled onto her bed and sat up straight, holding her boyfriend over her lap.
Javi shielded his eyes from the late morning light and took a deep breath. He forgot how good fresh air smelled. “Hoo boy, I slept like a baby. How about you?” Panic overtook the tiny at the sight of his girlfriend’s crying face hanging prominently in his sky. Heather bawled her eyes out, her face bunched up as snot and tears ran down it. “Whoa, what’s wrong?!” Javi’s brain flooded with possibilities as he raced to deduce the source of her distress. The only thing he hated more than crying in front of others was causing others to cry in front of him.
“I ruined everything!” Heather wailed. “Why does this keep happening to me?! I was being so careful! Why do I keep hurting everyone I care about?” Javi patted himself down, trying to find an injury that wasn’t there. “Last night was so perfect. Of course, I had to go and ruin it all!”
“Am I missing something?” Javi asked. “I had a great time last night.”
Heather crying slowed as she squinted at him. “You were stuck in my butt all night. That must’ve been Hell.”
Javi shrugged. “I’ve survived worse.” Heather’s sobbing insinuated she wasn’t convinced. “I told you I slept like a baby in there. No nightmares or anything. You’d be surprised how cozy the inside of an asshole is. Not calling you an asshole, I mean inside your actual butt hole. It’s warm and snug, and soft as velvet. The gurgling traveling through your intestines is as soothing as a babbling brook. Sure, all my nose hairs have burned off by now, but a little stink never hurt anybody.”
Heather wiped her tears, still sniffling. “Y-you aren’t mad? Weren’t you scared?”
“I see no reason to be either. Now, if you took a trip to the lady’s room in the middle of the night, that might be a different story.” Javi grinned at her, happy to see it spread to her cheeks.
“I, I’ll never know what it’s like to be fully inside another person.” Heather looked away from Javi, guilt and anger prying her away from him. “Is my butt all that different from Shawna’s stomach?”
“Is that what you’re so worried about?” Javi scratched his head, thinking of how to explain the difference. “It’s drier inside the anal cavity. Cleaner too if you wash it well, which you do by the way. The smell kinda depends on what you eat, but I find digested food often smells better than digesting food believe it or not. The latter is so sulphury, it fucking sucks. At least the back end smells natural and not like brimstone. And in case you forgot,” Javi tapped Heather’s palm twice, “I wanted to be inside you, and I did not want to go inside Shawna. Not like that. So, calm down, take a deep breath, and stop comparing yourself to her already. I’m still waiting for you to actually hurt me with how much you beat yourself up over it.”
Heather rubbed her puffy eyes, the waterworks finally ceasing. She did as he suggested and breathed, thinking back on how good she felt the night prior. “Thank you. Sorry for freaking out like that.”
“Hey, you care. Nothing wrong with that.”
Heather smiled, pushing a different kind of tear through her ducts. She lifted him towards her lips to give him a kiss, to thank him for being so understanding, but she stopped before he got past her chest and plugged her nose. “Holy Hell, you reek!”
“Do I?” Javi sniffed his pits, unaffected by the rancid odor clinging to him. “I must've grown numb to it.”
“Either way, you're not touching anything until we clean you up.” Heather got off her bed and carried Javi to the bathroom. She wiped her face again with her other arm. Her eyes were still red and swollen, but the soft smile she wore assured Javi that she was feeling better.
In the bathroom, Heather brought Javi over to the sink and set him down on the counter before starting the faucet. She held her hand under the pouring water as she waited for it to heat up. Once it reached the proper temperature, she bent down and lowered her face as close to Javi as she could before the smell became unbearable. “Would you mind if I helped you wash up? You can stand under the faucet on your own if you'd prefer I not get involved, but if you're okay with it ...”
Javi placed one hand on his hip and waved the other flippantly. “Yes, dear, I do mind. You know how much I hate having your fingers all over me.”
“Listen here, you little shit …”
“I take offense to that.” He pointed defiantly at her nose hanging a couple inches overhead. “Just because I came out of your butt this morning doesn't give you the right to call me dirty names.”
Groaning, Heather straightened herself, pulling her face far away from her boyfriend. With a swift strike, she pinched Javi's torso between her fingers and held him beneath the stream of rushing water. She poked and prodded him under the crashing waterfall, squeezing each extremity of that tight little bod as she rubbed the stink out of him. Once wet and sufficiently groped, Heather pulled him out and positioned him under the soap dispenser, squirting a dollop of lavender scented gel onto his chest and abs.
Heather massaged him with her fingers, polishing the tiny with unrelenting fervor. Javi buckled under the pressure, arching his back as his dick grew stiff. Heather saw the effect she had and teased him, devoting extra attention to his shaft and balls.
“How does that feel?” Heather pressed the tip of her forefinger into his sack and rocked him back and forth on it. Javi grunted as Heather juiced his fruits, drawing a wry grin out of the giantess. “And this?” She tugged at his shaft, blissfully ignorant of her strength. Javi gasped and moaned exactly as she wanted. “Aw, poor baby. Let's cool you off.”
Heather swapped the faucet to cold and rinsed Javi off in the frigid stream. The pain fled in a flash, giving way to bitter chill to shiver Javi silly. After a couple seconds, Heather pulled him out and examined him, his limp dick withered and withdrawn.
“Wow, it really does shrink in the cold. I figured that was a fake ass excuse.” Heather recalled a night alone in the pool with an ex whose package left much to be desired, and how flustered he got defending his manhood. “Whoops.”
“Can we go back to you crying over my well-being?” Javi begged between heaving breaths.
Heather smirked at him. “Didn't you say you were waiting for me to hurt you? I thought I wasn't supposed to beat myself up over it anymore.”
“The rough play I can handle. The cold bath is downright cruel.” Despite Javi's words, Heather enjoyed the groovy texture his goosebumps formed. Her soft caress warmed him back up, and she caught a glimpse of his shrunken member fighting to raise the mast once more.
“Would a kiss make it better?” Heather cooed. Javi stared wide eyed at his girlfriend and nodded eagerly. Heather brought her man to her mouth and opened wide, first huffing a humid breath over him to banish any lingering chill before burying him from the waist up in a tender smooch. A lavender aroma trailed up Heather’s nose, masking the woeful stench she accidentally submitted him to. In too short a time, perhaps a minute or two, Heather pried him off her and stared into his adorable beady eyes. “Promise you'll stop me if I ever go too far.”
“You never-”
“Promise me.”
Javi sighed. “I promise.”
“Thanks.” She gave him another peck before setting him back down on the counter. Heather dug through a drawer for a toothpaste bottle, unscrewing the cap and filling it with water. She placed the cap beside Javi and then did the same with a travel sized shampoo bottle, squirting shampoo into its cap. “Use that to wash your face and hair. I’m to going to clean myself up in the meantime.”
“Would you mind if I helped?” Javi asked with a cocky grin.
“And how, pray tell, would you manage that? With scaffolding and a pressure washer? I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to drop you down the drain.” Heather turned away from the counter and stepped into her shower, giving Javi one hell of a view. There was no tub; a glass barrier separated the stall’s black tiles from the rest of the bathroom. The shower head was built into the ceiling, capable of producing four different flow types: rain, waterfall, mist, and a column. The barrier had no frost nor mars to obscure its occupant, giving Javi a clear view of the bathing woman, and Heather knew it.
Lathering herself in suds, Heather stood facing away from Javi and exaggerated each of her movements: the sway of her hips, her arms running down her slender legs, her hands coursing through her long hair. She didn’t have to look at Javi to know she had him hooked. Is he even washing his hair? He wasn’t. He dared not blink and miss a picturesque shot of a lifetime. At one point, Heather pressed her ass against the glass, causing Javi’s heart to skip a beat.
Water flowed down her like rainfall, coursing through her curves and the grooves of her muscles. Her body scintillated under the steady stream, a goddess born of sea foam. When the faucet turned off, Javi dunked his head in the toothpaste cap as his girlfriend turned around.
“You sure take a while to clean your hair,” Heather said knowingly, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around herself.
“At this size, its the first part girls notice.” Javi quickly washed his hair and splashed his face with water while Heather dried off. When she was done, the heiress bent forward and held her eye up close to her boyfriend, the massive pupil a green stained-glass window.
“I see what you mean …” She took in his entirety with her gaze. “… but only a fool would stop there. Not that it matters anymore.” Heather pulled back and grabbed Javi, lifting him high off the counter. “There’s only one set of eyes you need to concern yourself with now, and she’s keeping you in her sights every chance she gets.”
“I'd say the sentiment goes both ways, but I get the sneaking suspicion you won't give me many opportunities to look away in the first place.”
“Correct you are.” Heather booped Javi's minuscule nose lightly enough not to break it. She then carried him back to her bedroom and set him on her bed so he could watch her change. Heather put on a pair of yoga pants, fighting the clingy fabric to pull it over her rump, and a sleeveless crop top.
“You aren't wearing underwear?” Javi asked.
“Got a problem with that?” Heather lowered her hand onto the mattress for Javi to climb aboard. She grabbed her phone from her nightstand and carried him off. “I want to give you easy access. Never know when I might need a pick-me-up.”
The two took a trip downstairs. Their next stop: the in-home bar's countertop where a miniature clothing rack awaited. “I had Julius buy you some new digs. Figured you didn't want to be stuck wearing your Halloween costume in November.”
After stepping off his girlfriend’s hand, Javi thumbed through the rack. There was a designer shirt, a sleek pair of slacks, fresh boxer briefs, wool socks, and a pair of high-quality leather loafers. “Y-you bought me clothes? How much did these cost?”
Heather shrugged. “I don't know, a few thousand maybe?”
Th-th-th-th-th-th-th-thousand?! Sorry, a “few” thousand? As in dollars? How the hell am I supposed to wear these?! Javi pulled his hand away, fearing he may mar such luxury fabrics with his filthy, commoner hands. “What if I get dirt on them? What if I crease them?”
“Then you wash them? Iron them?” Heather sat down at the bar and shot Javi a worried look. She could tell the clothes bothered him. “Did I mess up? I picked these because I thought they suited your style, but if you don't like them, I can order another outfit instead.”
“What? No! No, no, no, no, no!” Javi waved his arms frantically. “These are great! Too great. Way too great. Thank you. This is way too generous of you.”
Heather blushed. “Oh, stop that. It's no big deal. You'd do the same for me.”
Heather, I have student loans. I can't afford to do the same for you. Javi sighed and carefully removed the clothes from their hangers. He felt like he was committing a crime by touching them. Heather held her phone up in selfie mode for him to use as a mirror, watching him change with the same enthusiasm he had watching her.
Javi tugged at his shirt collar in the reflection and adjusted the pants’ waistband. The clothes fit him snuggly, nothing too big nor too small. “How'd you know my measurements?”
“I referenced the clothing you left discarded on the sofa, my good sir.” Julius appeared from a door beside the floating staircase, bowing to his mistress and her tiny date. His name tag, bearing the Suzuran family crest, glimmered in the late morning sunlight. “I hope I did not overstep my bounds, but I did not wish to interrupt last night’s cavorting.”
“Nah, man. Thanks for the, uh, assist.” Javi was glad the butler waited until after he was dressed to enter the room.
“My lady, your breakfast is ready to be served if you both would care to follow me to the dining hall.”
“Thanks, Jules.” Heather pocketed her phone and held her hand out for Javi once more, admiring his dapper flair as he stepped onto her palm. “What do you think? Did I do good?”
“You did incredible,” Javi said. “My parents are going to think I robbed a Le Marche.”
“What's that?” Heather asked, trailing behind Julius into the dining hall.
“It's this high-class boutique in the tiny district. They import all their goods from Milan. I don't know anybody who can afford to shop there. My mom once got a thirty dollar gift card for there, and the only thing she could buy with it was a single tube of lipstick.”
The dining hall resided in the space underneath the second floor, directly adjacent to the penthouse’s fully equipped kitchen. An obscenely large, mahogany table filled the center of the room surrounded by two dozen matching wood chairs. At one end sat a miniature mahogany table set with tiny-scaled fine china and sterling silverware, equally opulent to the heiress’ blown up tableware.
“No offense, but thirty dollars is cheap for high fashion. You sure those imports are legit?” Heather sat down at her end of the dining table, her butler gracefully pulling her chair out for her, and placed Javi on the mahogany surface before her. Julius repeated the gesture for his mistress’ tiny date, offering him a seat at the tiny table. Then the butler disappeared into the kitchen.
“You’re not factoring in the conversion rate. Tiny clothing is a lot cheaper because it takes less materials to make.” At least, it’s supposed to be. Javi placed one napkin in his lap and tucked another in his collar to use as a bib. He’d rather starve than get food on Heather’s exorbitant gift. “Thirty dollars can net one of us an entire wardrobe without needing to get all that thrifty.”
“Oh, so that’s why everything I looked at seemed so cheap. I assumed those were all knockoffs or off-brand garbage.” Heather gave Javi’s outfit a once over, admiring how her handiwork accented her boyfriend’s natural talents. “But you can rest assured those are the genuine article. I wouldn’t embarrass you with anything less.”
“Is that what you were doing on your phone last night on the way here? You thought that far ahead?”
Heather fidgeted in her seat. “We both have the day off, and I wanted to spend it with you. I didn’t want to take you home yet, and ordering a change of clothes meant I didn’t have to. I picked out what I liked and sent Jules the deets so he could collect them this morning.”
Did she get the expensive stuff to bribe me into staying? Javi brushed his hand through his hair, trying not to chuckle at how cute Heather looked when flustered. “Well, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”
Heather’s cheeks flushed red, and Javi covered his grinning mouth. As if to save them, Julius entered with a wide tray containing their breakfast.
“For the lady: the lobster bisque and a mushroom spinach omelette with a side of sauteed redskin potatoes.” Julius placed the decadent dishes in front of Heather, the delightful aroma giving Javi goosebumps. “And for the gentleman: a fine cut of rabbit filet mignon, two hummingbird eggs sunny-side up, and braised asparagus.” A slice into the sliver of steak revealed a beautifully seared outer layer forming a crisp skin over the tender and juicy insides. The egg yolks were perfect golden semi-spheres surrounded by pure white discs. And the chef diced the asparagus so thin that it resembled a pasta more than a stalk. “For beverages: Miss Suzuran’s meal pairs best with a 2002 pinot gris from Alsace, and Mr. Delgado’s with a 2005 cabernet sauvignon from Bordeaux.” The butler poured from two different sized bottles into two different sized glasses. “Both wines have had their alcohol removed out of consideration for your age and health.”
With the couple’s meal served, Julius bowed and departed to the kitchen to give the young pair their privacy. Heather dug into her soup while Javi stared at his plate with his mouth agape. “Do you eat like this every morning?”
“Only on the weekends. Here, try this.” Heather held her spoon over the tiny's plate. Javi dipped his own spoon into the wider saucer, sampling the creamy broth. It was as if an Olympian offered him a taste of ambrosia. “On school days I usually just have some fruit. Bananas, apples, regular stuff.”
“Let me guess: you import all your fruits straight from the source.” Javi bit into the seared meat and almost cried. He couldn't believe food this good existed.
“Yep. My bananas come fresh from Costa Rica every morning.” Heather caught the awe-filled glances Javi shot her. Whether he viewed her as a goddess living among mortals or a monster with her talons gripped onto the whole world was unclear. “I'm kidding. I buy them from the grocery store like everyone else. OK, Jules buys them for me, but same difference.”
“That's not the same at all,” Javi said mockingly. “I bet you don't know the price of a banana.”
“Psh. Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know how much a banana costs.” Heather squinted her eyes and thought hard, calculations firing off in her brain. She tried to recall the last time she walked into a grocery store. Harder yet was remembering the last time she checked a price tag. But after much rumination, the answer dawned on her. “Ten dollars,” she said with way too much confidence. She couldn't formulate the actual price, but she remembered a clip from some TV show Alena sent her a long time ago. The memory stood out to her because Alena found it hilarious that Heather never got the joke.
Javi buried his face in his hands and chortled.
“Too low?” she asked.
“I know what I want to do today,” he said, lowering his hands. “We’re cooking dinner ourselves. Something simple, none of this decadent, high-brow, melt in your mouth cuisine.” Javi chewed on his asparagus and moaned as its buttery fibers spread across his tongue. “Personally, I’m hankering for enchiladas if that sounds good to you, but I want us buying our own ingredients too. After breakfast, I'm taking you shopping, and I will be footing the bill.”
“No, you won’t. My income is far more disposable. It's not fair to ask you to pay for me.” Heather watched her boyfriend enjoy the fried eggs, and a bizarre desire spurred to life within her heart, an inexplicable yearning to steal a portion of food from his meager plate. That's ridiculous, she thought. What do I stand to gain from that? Heather shook off the strange compulsion, and yet …
“Exactly. If I'm to teach you the value of a dollar, I have to cut off your infinite resources. You won't be so spend happy with my limited budget.” Javi noticed Heather eyeing his plate. Curious, he carved off a big, for him, chunk of rabbit and held it out towards his towering girlfriend. “Want a bite?”
“H-how'd you …” Heather’s shocked expression gave way to one of gratitude. “Sure.” Javi got off his seat and walked towards her plate as Heather lowered her head and stuck her tongue out. Javi stood before the open maw, like a train conductor before a boiling furnace, and set the meat onto the slobbery muscle. Heather closed her mouth and wrapped her lips around her lover's hand, scraping the meat off his fork as she pulled away. Javi was relieved she didn't get any spit on his shirt, though he wasn't as concerned about her ruining her gift to him.
Heather let the meat rest on her tongue, the crumb far too small for her to chew, and swallowed. “That's pretty good. A little gamey, but the seasoning plays off that well.” Javi returned to his meal and continued eating, amazed she got all that out of the speck he served her. “As for our plans today: fine, I'll play along. But you'll soon learn how savvy I am.”
******
“Crap! Sorry.” Heather crashed her cart into a pyramid of canned yams, causing a clanging cacophony as they rolled across the floor. A disgruntled employee began repairing the ill-fated display as Heather awkwardly fled the scene. “What the fuck is wrong with this cart?”
“You grabbed one with a wobbly wheel. Happens to the best of us.” Javi rode on Heather’s shoulder as they traipsed through the supermarket together. The heiress wore a chic jacket over her crop top, giving the tiny a comfy foam saddle in the form of a shoulder pad.
“They ought to fix it. It's a safety hazard. What if I run someone over?” Heather stopped on a dime as another cart pulled out in front of her from around the corner. Javi had a tight grip on Heather’s jacket, but he appreciated her holding her hand out to catch him nonetheless.
“Check below the shelves.” The supermarket hosted a variety of goods for both sizes with the tiny selection located at the base of each aisle's shelving units. Racks of produce and processed foods were tucked away beneath the bottom shelf for little folk to browse and were accessible from the floor to those riding with a big partner or party. “The edge of the bottom shelf stretches out like an awning, and if you look down at the cart, you'll notice the bar the wheels are attached to is at the perfect height so that you can't hit anybody under the shelf.” Javi then pointed to the floor. “There are tunnels that run under the floor connecting our walkways in every aisle, that way both of our sizes can walk through the store without bumping into each other.”
“Oh, just like in Tokyo. We have tunnels like this running through the sidewalks to account for all the foot traffic.” Along with tiny shelving, each aisle could also host entire stores in the hollow bases of the big shelving units. Salons, daycares, restaurants, and other establishments made up their own tiny mall within the giant grocery store.
Heather steered her cart into the next aisle, putting a tremendous effort in keeping if from veering into an endcap. “What's next on the list?”
“Ground cumin and oregano.”
“Got it.” Heather approached the spice rack and perused the selection, snatching an inch tall bottle of oregano as soon as she spotted it.
“Don’t get that one. Grab the store brand,” Javi suggested. “It’s three times the size for two dollars less.”
“But it’s the store brand. Won’t it taste bad?” Heather picked up the generic oregano in her other hand and examined it. The crushed green leaves in one bottle appeared identical to the other.
“Spice is spice. You won’t notice the difference in taste, but you’ll notice how much lighter your wallet is.”
“Two dollars lighter,” Heather scoffed.
“I hear you, but it adds up. Two dollars here, three dollars there, five, six, seven. By the time your cart is full, we’re talking an extra fifty, maybe even a hundred dollars for sticking to the name brands.” Javi quickly converted tiny prices to the bigs’ in his head, having a fair share of experience shopping with either size. “We still need to get the peppers, the cheese, the meat. That’s were you want to care about quality; that’s were you’ll really notice the difference. And you’ll be glad you saved those two bucks when you’re picking between fresh and processed cheeses.”
“Or, I can pay for all this, and we’ll get nothing but the best.”
“Bzzt! Wrong answer. Try again.” Javi made an X by crossing his hands. Heather rolled her eyes and tossed the generic spice in the cart, seeking out the larger, cheaper bottle of ground cumin and doing the same. “Next is refried beans. We’re going to buy pinto beans and mash them ourselves. Add in some spices and oil, and that’ll taste way better than the pre-canned stuff.”
“‘Ourselves’? You gonna help me mash, Smalls? The bean is as big as your torso.”
“I’ll be providing moral support. With cooking, that’s just as important as the manual work.” Heather clicked her tongue.
On the way to another aisle, Heather passed by an Oreo display. “Oh shit, a new flavor. Can we squeeze it into the budget? Pleeeease.”
“First off, no. Second, ‘NY Pizza’ flavor? That’s disgusting.”
Heather pouted. “Yeah, but we won’t know how bad it is until we try it.” She pleaded to the man on her shoulder through her ginormous puppy dog eyes.
Javi closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Alright. If that’s how you want to spend the four dollars we saved, then so be it.”
“Hell yeah!” Heather threw the cookies into the cart and gave her lover a “thank you” kiss.
******
With the necessary ingredients procured, including a few unnecessary treats, the couple pushed their cart to the black Cadillac waiting for them in the parking lot and loaded their haul into the trunk. They wound up clocking in at ten dollars under budget, a point of pride for Javi that Heather tried her best to appreciate. Once they were ready to go, Heather jumped in the backseat with her boyfriend in her hand.
“Back to the hotel, I presume?” Julius asked from the driver’s seat. A solid partition separated the front of the car from the back.
“On the double.” Heather got comfortable on the plush leather, her tight pants digging deep between her buns. All the walking around gave her a tremendous itch, and looking at the little man in her hand delivered to her a timely solution. “On second thought, take the scenic route.”
“Very well, Miss Suzuran.” Julius closed the tinted partition window to give the young couple their privacy and drove off, the purr of the engine coursing up through Heather’s bottom. She stared at Javi longingly, gnawing at her lower lip. Javi didn’t know what she had in store for him, but the look said it all.
“Hey, babe. Remember what I said about ‘easy access’? I need one of those pick-me-ups real bad right now.” Heather inched forward and tugged at her waistband, opening the skin-tight portal to the heavenly mounds below. As the giantess’ hand shifted behind her, a sudden panic overtook the tiny sitting on it. Javi fell back, rearing away from his girlfriend’s incredible posterior.
“Wait! Stop!”
Heather whipped him back around her. Her eyes opened wider than his. “What's wrong?! Is this going too far?”
“I gotta get these clothes off first!” Javi carefully removed his overpriced apparel and delicately folded each article, piling them neatly onto Heather's palm.
What is with him and these clothes? Heather thought, furrowing her brow.
Naked, Javi handed her the stack, which she took with her free hand and stashed under the seat, and gave her a thumbs up. “Okay, I'm ready.”
Heather tugged open her waistband once more, tilting her hand over to slide her boyfriend down her crack. Javi rolled off her hand and landed on the small of her back before slipping into the hidden valley. Once she felt the tiny between her cheeks, Heather released her grip and snapped the yoga pants shut, sealing Javi to her ass. She poked her living butt plug from the other side of the fabric, pushing him deep between her buns.
As the car sped off, subtle vibrations traveled from the suspension into the cabin, dispersing into Heather's ass through the leather it sat on. She held Javi up to her asshole, rubbing him into her puckered rim as her faithful lover got to licking. The bumps and turns made the ride all the sweeter, and Heather found herself panting in no time flat.
She lowered the partition window to speak to her chauffeur. “Hey, you wouldn't happen to, oh, know if there are any, nhg, roads nearby with a ton of, ah, potholes?”
“There are in fact a fair amount of derelict roads in the area. I normally avoid them for the sake of the car, but if my lady wishes, then I can take a detour. But keep in mind that the mechanic will demand a bigger tip come the next tune-up.”
“You're the best, Jules.” Heather shut the window, isolating them from each other. Julius smiled to himself and remapped the route in his head, elated by his charge’s high spirits and happier still that the partition was sound proof.
Heather repositioned herself to lay across the leather seats, her long legs bent and pointed upwards as she rested them against the side door. She drove a hand between her thighs to massage her man and herself by extension. Javi kissed and licked her brown bud with the expected enthusiasm, his other head prodding her taint. Heather believed herself at the height of bliss, then the potholes came.
The car shook violently as it rolled over a road in dire need of repaving. The street's condition was so bad that the luxury Cadillac would be better suited for off-roading. Every drop, every curb, every crater, and every bump could be felt in the shockwaves striking Heather's ass and spine. She bounded in the seat, almost falling over several times. Each impact shot up into Javi, pushing him further past the sensitive gates. Without the lube, his puny frame felt rougher as it forced its way inside the giant woman's rear.
Heather shouted and moaned, staining the crotch of her pants with her arousal. She hoped Javi was okay in there. It was impossible to discern his love taps from the rocky road's. Javi flung every which way in her rectum, battered by the sturdy pink membrane. His only fear was getting stuck in her intestines. He'd hate to ruin her day with a visit to the doctor's. But with the world around him quaking, Javi met its rhythm and danced to the beat, giving his all in making his girl sing.
A sudden dive into one canyon of a pothole brought Heather to climax, her butt clenched tightly onto her man inside. She let the car seat massage her back as she rode the high down. Once the afterglow took hold, she pinged the driver to let him know her business was finished. Julius turned off of the ruined street back onto smooth pavement.
Still laying down, Heather snuck her hand down the back of her pants and fingered her back door. After a little digging, she found her buried treasure and pulled him back into the light, holding the naked tiny over her face.
“Did you not get enough?” she asked, eyeing the littler Javi still standing tall.
“You ever … ride one of those … G-force simulators? Try jerking it … in one of those.” Javi caught his breath and got his bearings, the rest of him hanging limp in his girlfriend’s clutches.
Heather stifled a laugh and reached out to him with her other hand. “You poor, poor man. Allow me to take your pain away.” She pinched Javi's sausage between the tips of her monolithic digits and stroked it over her mouth. His arms instinctively pushed back at her overwhelming fingers, but his paltry strength did nothing to loosen his lover's tight grip.
Heather held her mouth open in anticipation. The sight of that long tongue peeking out of its cave sent Javi over the edge, shooting a white stream at his girlfriend's expansive face. Some of his load landed in her philtrum, but the couple successfully aimed most of the sticky spread onto her tongue. Heather licked any jizz that missed the mark off her lips and swallowed, letting out a satisfied moan afterwards. She snagged a hanging drop off Javi's tip with her finger and sucked that off too.
“Sorry for ‘waterfalling’ you like that,” Heather said, sitting up in the leather car seat. She opened her hand to let Javi sprawl out on her bed of fingers. “Didn't think it sanitary to get my lips around you at the moment.”
“No worries. That was awesome.” Javi stared up at the ceiling. Any bearings he regained were once again lost to dizzying afterglow. “I'm glad I don't get motion sickness.”
******
That evening, Javi and Heather occupied the penthouse kitchen alone to themselves, their haul from the supermarket either laid out before them or already in the process of cooking. The kitchen resembled a restaurant’s, every inch covered in chrome or stainless steel. The room contained every tool and appliance a chef could dream of.
“… and three cups of water.” Javi double checked the recipe on his phone to make sure he got all the measurements right, the tiny not used to cooking with “cups,” “tablespoons,” and “pounds.”
“Got it.” Heaher poured the water into the blender over top the roasted peppers and spices for the enchiladas’ red sauce, Javi seated on the countertop beside it. He received another bath after returning to the penthouse, and Heather changed into a new pair of pants. “Then just push this button, right?”
“Yep. That will-” Javi looked up just in time to witness the impending disaster. “Wait! You forgot to put the lid …” Spicy, red water shot out of the moving blender, dowsing Heather as she rushed to slam the blender’s cap shut. “… on.”
By some miracle, Javi managed to avoid the splash zone, but his girlfriend wasn’t so lucky. Covered in the blood of the sauce she just massacred, Heather turned off the blender and stared at her hands in solemnity.
“Hey, don’t get too down. There’s still enough in there for our purposes.” The clear plastic container was half-full, enough for the tiny to swim in. Expecting to get messy with a complete amateur at the helm, Javi had changed out of the overpriced digs into the undershirt and slacks he wore with yesterday’s costume. “Besides, you look good in red.”
Heather scraped some sauce off her face, primed her middle finger behind her thumb, and flicked a sanguine drop towards her boyfriend, splattering him in a direct hit to the chest and knocking him onto his ass. “Would you look at that. So do you.”
Javi snorted and wiped what he could off his once white shirt. He pondered on a retort, but a sharp, acrid smell touched his nose. “You want to check on the chicken? I feel like it’s been in the oven a while now.”
Heather wiped the smirk off her sauce stained face. “The timer hasn’t gone off yet.” She turned to check it, the digital interface showing the time she originally set. “Fuck! I forgot to start it.” Heather opened the oven door and coughed at the rancid fumes eking out. The chicken journeyed through Hell and became a crispy, inedible rock. The wannabe cook grabbed the tray and tossed it haphazardly onto the stove, slumping her shoulders as she admired her handiwork. “God-fucking-dammit! You said this would be simple!”
“It is.” A chill ran down Javi’s spine, green cold steel daggers piercing his skin. “Don’t get upset. Cooking is a skill like any other. It takes practice.”
“Were you this bad your first time?” Heather grabbed a rag and cleaned herself off, returning her spite-filled glare to the overcooked chicken.
“First time? I knew you were inexperienced, but you mean you’ve never cooked anything before?”
“Of course not. My family pays people to do that for me.” Heather walked over to the counter Javi stood on and crouched beside it so they were at face level with each other. “I’ve made simple shit: sandwiches, salads, microwave popcorn. I can mix drinks. I can pour a bowl of cereal without burning the place down. But I’ve never had to make an actual meal.”
“I only know how to cook because of my mom, and from what I understand, she wasn’t any good until she met my dad.” Javi sat down on the stainless steel counter, meeting her cold stare with his warm gaze. “She’s from Montana, and apparently her idea of an enchilada was synthetic turkey, cheese and diced celery wrapped in a plain flour tortilla. No sauce, no spice, no flavor. Yuck! First thing Dad did when they started dating was teach her all the Delgado family recipes. Well, he didn’t ‘teach’ her so much as ‘tell’ her to make them, and she learned how to do it on her own. Now, she’s the best chef in the whole family. Even my abuela won’t argue it.”
“So, you’re saying there’s hope for me yet?” Heather offered him a weak smile. So, you’re saying I’m screwed if I don’t learn how to cook?
“Exactly. Think about how many times you’ve fallen off your board. Burning chicken’s no different than scraping a knee.” Javi’s hair blew in the wind produced by Heather’s sigh. He got up, approached the vermilion wall, and planted a kiss on her upper lip. Her smile grew, and she pushed him with her fingers into her reciprocating lips. Getting a whiff of Javi’s stained shirt, Heather poked her tongue out and licked the sauce off her little lover, replacing one mess with a thick coating of spit.
“Hey, that ain’t half bad.” Her eyes lit up as she released Javi from her hold.
“See? You’re off to a great start.” Javi shook like a dog out of the bath, brushing saliva out of his hair and off his face. Giggling, Heather picked him up and placed him on her shoulder, walking back over to the stove to reconcile with her mistakes.
“So, what do we do about the filling?” she asked, picking up a poultry hockey puck. “This ain’t salvageable. I bet there’s some wagyu in the fridge. You know how to cook that?”
“I ain’t a food snob, but I’m pretty sure filling an enchilada with wagyu beef is a culinary sin. We’ll just stick with refried beans for the filling. At home, we don’t use meat that often anyway.”
“Right, I heard tinies don’t eat as much meat as we do.” Heather went to a counter and grabbed a can of pinto beans in one hand and a can opener in the other. She examined the manual opener’s knobs and circular blades, at a loss on how to operate it.
“Synthetic meats have taken off in the past few generations, but a lot of traditional recipes won’t call for it. Can’t eat what you can’t kill, and most animals are either total behemoths or too fast for us to hunt.” Meat didn’t enter the tinies’ stable diet until the 1980s when little folk made significant headway into lab-grown foods, driven by a desire to emulate the illegal yet authentic scraps smuggled in from the big districts.
Javi noticed Heather struggling with the can opener. “Clamp those blades around the can’s lip and then twist the knob.”
“Oh, thanks.” Heather did as instructed. Stopping and starting, getting the blade caught on the can, it took her a few tries, but she eventually got it open.
“Let’s pour the sauce into a pan first. We can let it simmer while you mash the beans.” The couple continued moving through the steps, Heather stumbling here and there while Javi kept her on track. Her confidence remained shaky, but the man on her shoulder reassured her whenever necessary, and before long, dinner was ready to be served.
Heather pulled her chair under the dining room table, setting the plate of enchiladas down before her. The enchiladas were topped with queso fresco and lettuce with cooked potatoes and carrots on the side. Javi sat down at the table sized appropriately for him and waited for Heather to serve his portion. She cut off bits of the enchilada, making sure each component was represented on his puny plate, and tossed it onto his table. The mess of ingredients would receive no points for presentation, but Heather’s adorable attempt getting the spillage back on the plate with a lumbering fork and knife more than made up for it.
Heather didn’t dare take a bite before gauging her boyfriend’s reaction. His fork moved in slow motion as it brought crumbs of tortilla, bean, and cheese to his mouth. Javi chewed, looking down at his plate, his expression unmoving, stoic, impossible to read from such a distance. He took another sampling, a sliver of carrot and potato submerged in the sauce, and continued chewing. Heather tapped her foot under the table, the awaited verdict hanging over her like a sword of Damocles.
“For your first time in the kitchen, I’m impressed. We went too heavy on the cumin, but that’s the recipe’s fault. Bigs always overdo it with spices; your tongues aren’t sensitive enough to differentiate between elevating a dish and overpowering it.” Javi looked up and realized Heather hadn’t touched her plate. “What’s wrong? Not hungry?”
“Huh? Oh, sorry.” Heather fumbled with her utensils and dug in. Choking the enchilada down, she tasted each mistake and every oversight. There was too much cumin even by her tongue’s standards, and the blend of cheaply procured ingredients paled in comparison to the fine-tuned gastronomy of the dishes her Michelin worthy private chefs served her. And yet, she loved it, gobbling down bite after bite. The soul baked into the home cooked meal shone through, instilling a hunger for more.
“So, what do you think?” Javi stopped eating and waited for her response.
“Can we do this again tomorrow after classes? Can you teach me how to cook?” Bits of food spilled out as she spoke with her mouth full.
Javi scratched the back his head and grinned. “I ain’t much of a chef myself. I just picked up some things helping my mom out.” He dug back into his own food, happy with the outcome. “But yeah, I’d love to learn alongside you.”
After Javi cleared his plate, he asked for seconds, laughing at his giant girlfriend as she attempted to get another portion onto his table. The two laughed and ate until their stomachs were full and their plates were empty.
******
“Are you feeling okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I?”
Pierce laid naked in the valley of Jackie’s cleavage as she relaxed on her bed after a long, uneventful day. All of Pierce’s everything was sore aside from his crotch, the area below the belt completely numb. “No, I feel … I feel great,” he squeaked out.
“Maybe three meals a day is too much. I suppose delicacies aren’t meant to be eaten on the reg.” Jackie rested her hand on her tit, lowering a finger into her cleavage to softly pet her boyfriend’s chest and belly. “I’ll tone it down in the future.”
Pierce tilted his head back to look her in the eye, albeit upside down. “You don’t have to tone yourself down. Your intensity’s really exciting.” Jackie’s touch eased the pain, though he felt his neck crack as he moved it. “Ow. But if you want to pace yourself, I won’t complain.”
Jackie giggled and turned on her side, sandwiching Pierce in the hefty softness of her chest. “Will do. Thanks for putting up with me.”
“It’s mmph!” Pierce struggled speaking through the mountain of flesh piled on top of him. “It’s my pleasure.” The day after Galaween, all fears and concerns vanished from Pierce’s mind. If he had a suit or a magic pill, he’d let Jackie swallow him this instant. Exhausted or not, he was willing to give himself over to satisfy her, to become the snack of her very dreams. It’d take some planning, but he was determined to do this for her, knowing full well she’d do the same for him. But for now, Pierce was tired and unable, and unwilling, to move. He fell asleep to the sonorous beating of his girlfriend’s massive heart.
Jackie joined him, machinations of her own playing out in her head as she drifted off. She didn’t fully understand what he found appealing about her feet, but the time he spent in her socks was but a trial run. Ideas welled up within her on how to enhance the experience. Her mind buzzed with excitement at all the possibilities that awaited them.