Table of Contents (If you just want to skip to the smut)
Ending 1: Water Bottle (Vore)
Ending 2: Chewed Up (Hard Vore)
Ending 3: Center Stage (Finger crush/pinch)
Ending 4: Underfoot (Foot crush)
Ending 5: Under Pressure (Armpit smother/crush)
Ending 6: Hot and Heavy (Cock, smothering)
Ending 7: Going Down (Cockvore)
Ending 8: Three’s a Crowd (Blowjob vore)
Ending 9: Just a Toy (Fleshlight entrapment, crush)
Ending 10: Stud-finder (Tongue stud, brutal, impaled)
Ending 11: You’re Just Trash (Garbage disposal, brutal)
Ending 12: Plugged In (Trapped in ass, buttplug)
Ending 13: Target Practice (Watersports)
Ending 14: Painted On (Fingernail gloss, suffocation)
It was time for another stream, and Angel was in the mood for it today. He felt good, he looked good, and he was about to make it everyone else’s problem. With the flick of a switch, his bedroom “studio” suddenly glowed under a wash of bubblegum-pink LED. He checked himself one last time in the mirror behind his setup – perfect, as always – and flopped lightly into his oversized gamer chair, his long black-with-purple-highlights hair bouncing as he pulled on and fiddled with his fluffy cat-ear headset. It was all cute, very on-brand for his audience’s tastes. Smirking into the webcam with a glossy-lipped pout, he hit the keys to pull up the stream. “Hey, chat, who’s ready for some fun?” he chirped, voice a honey-sweet blend of innocence and venom. A wave of chatter flooded the little chat-box on the side of his screen, welcoming their idol to today’s show. The camera was on too, of course – why not show it off if you’ve got it? The femboy streamer was a pastel pixie of a thing: pale blue thigh-highs hugging his slim legs, a glitter-dusted crop top straining over his chest, and a bratty giggle that masked his vicious streak.
“Let’s start things off right, shall we? I know why you’re all here! Well, besides the obvious hotness that is myself.” With that briefest of introductions, he plucked an inch-tall woman – a flailing, screaming little former fan he had shrunk at random from chat at the end of his last stream – out of the small bowl on his desk and dangled her by one leg for the camera. She was larger than his usual playthings, but that was deliberate. It let the camera capture her pleading, her terrified expression, as her end approached. “Say bye-bye, cutie,” he cooed for the chat’s benefit, then… *rrRRIP!* Angel tore the little thing clean in half with twitch of his black-and-pink nails, her sobbing and begging cut short instantly as he cut them short. With another giggle, Angel tossed the bits aside, licking his stained fingertips with a wink at chat. “Oopsie! Played a little rough with that one. But hey… chat loves a little gore, right?”
They did. Cheers and donations erupted from his kinky, pervy audience, as Angel had expected. They were so easy to please! And he did so love to please his fans…
Meanwhile, somewhere far away, a young woman named Catherine watched it all from her dorm, sprawled on her bed, red curls wild around her freckled face, heart pounding as she typed: “Shrink me, Angel! I dare you!” with a quick $50 donation attached to get Angel’s attention. She was perky, petite, and all punk-rock sass – his loudest fan, often flooding his chat with flirty chaos. She loved Angel’s kinky little displays, though she was sure it was special effects trick of some sort – at least, she had… until her screen flared so brightly she flinched away from it, hands rising to block the flash of light, body lurched dizzyingly in every direction at once, and an electric jolt ripped through her shuddering form as Angel’s shrinking program shrank her down, down, past doll-size, past ant-size, to a crumb-sized speck on her sheets. Her startled little yell was an inaudible chirp as Angel’s voice boomed from her looming laptop: “Oh, Cath, my fave little bitch – you want to be my next toy? Then let’s play!” Another lurch, a teleport going off after the shrink, and she tumbled onto his desk, a red-tipped little dot under his looming gaze.
Angel plucked her speck-like form up with vast nails like glittery, glossy guillotines, holding her close to the webcam as his chat erupted once more. “Look at my new pet, fam!” he purred, fingers pressing in on her a little too firmly for comfort. Catherine thrashed uselessly, shouting something – maybe “TOO HARD, IT HURTS!” – but it was just a faint squeak to him. His chat spammed hearts and twisted requests, and Angel’s grin sharpened, cute but wicked. “Oh, Catherine, you’re so screwed – naked, crumb-sized and in my hands? You know this doesn’t end well for you, right? I play rough with my toys. But you knew that when you volunteered! Now… what shall I do with you? Let’s see what chat suggests… or donates toward!”
Angel browsed the swarm of suggestions for a moment, paying more attention to the ones that donated money for a specific outcome. It didn’t take long… unfortunately for his new toy.
Ending 1: Water Bottle (Vore)
“Mmmh, sorry sweetie, it looks like chat doesn’t think you’ll make a good toy after all. They want someone cuter, someone big enough to see while they suffer at my lovely hands! So I’m afraid… I don’t need you after all. Thanks for the donation though, hun!” Angel’s perfect lips curled into a mocking smirk as he dangled Catherine’s speck-like form above his water bottle, tinged pink by the LEDs glowing all around. “Don’t worry though – you’ll get to experience your favorite streamer up close and personal!” he chirped, voice tuned to be a bratty tease as his fingers parted, dropping her with a faint plip into the tepid, swirling depths. To Catherine, it was a terrifying plunge – a sea of warm water crashed over her, soaking her red curls into a tangled mess as she thrashed, terror seizing her throat. The bottle’s plastic walls stretched endlessly around her, a slick, curved cage, the liquid slightly sweet with traces of Angel’s cherry gloss, stinging her eyes as she clawed back to the surface. Her lungs screamed, each kick a desperate last shot against drowning. Bubbles burst from her mouth, tiny and frantic. Her usual spunky demeanor was long gone, as water flooded her mouth and nose, choking her with every slosh of Angel’s careless tilt.
She nearly blacked out, vision dimming, body weakening in the suffocating wet, but a final, ragged breath after finding the surface again kept her alive – just barely – as his giant face loomed through the distorted plastic, smirking. Then his lips sealed the rim, and she began to scream as the ocean tilted toward the darkness of his mouth beyond. A monstrous gulp sucked the water down, and she was yanked into the torrent, whimpering and flailing, her skin tingling against the slick heat of his tongue for a fleeting, horrifying moment – going cold a moment later as a chilling fear gripped her mind. As she slid into the tight, pulsing dark of his throat, there was nothing she could do. And so, she was swallowed whole. Angel tossed the now-empty bottle away, a smug giggle escaping as it bounced in the general direction of his trash can, his attention returning to his stream and chat while Catherine’s final moments of existence vanished into his gut.
Ending 2: Chewed Up (Hard Vore)
Angel’s glossy fingernails glittered as he pinched up Catherine’s naked, crumb-sized body from his desk, her red curls barely visible against his fingertips, his webcam framing the scene in lurid pink light. “Chat wants this good boy to have a snack, huh?” he purred, voice a venomous tease, popping her onto his tongue like a piece of candy as his glossy lips parted wide for the show. For Catherine, it was a plunge into humid chaos – her bare skin hit the slick, warm surface, saliva coating her instantly, a sour tang of cherry gloss flooding her senses as she slid toward the dark cavern at the back of his mouth. Panic clawed at her thoughts; she scrambled, tiny limbs slipping repeatedly on the wriggling muscle, screams of begging and pleading lost in the wet, breathy echoes of the dripping cavern around her. Angel giggled, jolting her again. His teeth loomed between her and the only survivable exit, pearly guillotines that could easily end her in an instant.
Angel giggled, the sound nearly deafening to her poor little ears, and then snap-tilted his head to one side, tongue dexterously flipping her onto his molars with cruel precision. Ivory walls clamped down on her, the first contact grinding together and crushing her arm – sharp, searing pain exploding through her, bones snapping like twigs, her trademark fiery brattiness long since melted into raw terror. His saliva filled her mouth, muffling her cries, blood mixing with the slick as he chewed slowly, deliberately, each chomp overdramatic and precise to drag out the show for chat – her legs were next, flesh and bone no match against his slightest movements. Her vision blurred, adrenaline and fear peaking as her torso finally gave in and the tiny girl was reduced to a slick red paste between Angel’s teeth. He moaned softly and gave chat one last look at what was left before he swallowed the mashed remnants, licking his lips with a smug “Mmm, yummy!” for the enthusiastic chat, before moving on to other things for the evening.
Ending 3: Center Stage (Finger crush/pinch)
Angel’s black-and-purple curls framed his impish grin as he picked up Catherine’s crumb-sized, naked little body, her tiny limbs flailing wildly as he raised her right up to the webcam, neon lights glinting off his glossy nails. “Chat’s begging for a close-up, Cath. You’re the star of the moment! Let’s make it loud!” he chirped in a satisfied, bratty tone, pinching her trembling body between his thumb and forefinger, the pads soft yet unyielding as he held her an arm’s length from the specialized lens. For Catherine, it was a suffocating vise – his warm, smooth, perfect skin pressed in from above and below, her chest tightening as pressure built, pleading words failing as she chokes on them. She tried to scream, to beg the chat to ask for mercy on her behalf, but all that came out was a shrill, desperate squeak that barely registered even on Angel’s focused microphones. She tried – and failed – to control her intense panic, her freckled face contorted in terror, magnified a hundred times for his audience’s gleeful bloodlust (and regular lusts).
Angel squeezed slowly, deliberately, smirking as she cried out in pain when her miniscule ribs creaked and bent, as pain seared her sides. Her breath was hitching constantly now, only allowing air in shallow gasps, her tiny arms flailing weakly, uselessly against the crushing grip of… a couple femboy fingers. Her ability to think straight fell away as the pain swelled, and soon she was out of chances to even try. Her weak little body was slowly overtaken by the slow press of flesh grinding against flesh. His fingertip rolled ever-so-slightly against his thumb’s tip, and several of her bones popped, a sickening crunch echoing in her skull as his thumb pressed back a little harder, flattening her hips, blood welling in her throat. “One last chance to sing for chat, Cat!” he cooed, lashes fluttering almost flirtatiously, as if he was not slowly breaking her spasming form on camera so his audience could savor every twitch, every wail. He pressed just a little harder then, deciding to end it. He squeezed until her wet, dwindling cries cut off for good, body pulped to a red smear, wiped off on a tissue with a cute giggle as donations flooded in.
Ending 4: Underfoot (Foot crush)
Angel sneered down at Catherine’s crumb-sized form, his expression one of pure disdain as he flicked her right off the desk and onto scuffed hardwood floor, reaching over to switch to his ‘Floorview’ webcam to continue the show below. “Sorry, sweetie. Looks like chat’s already tired of you, Cath – which means it’s time to play “Squish this Bug!” he giggled, voice silky soft and very dangerous. To Catherine, the fall was a stomach-lurching plummet of hundreds of stories. Air rushed past her naked skin, her red tresses whipping above her head as she screamed the whole way down – a faint squeak too quiet to hear above the femboy’s taunts. She crashed onto the cold floor with a sharp thud that rattled her bones. It didn’t kill her, only because she was so small, but it hurt, and it stunned her for a long moment as her brain realized it wasn’t dead yet. That pain throbbed all through her tiny frame as she sprawled on her back, dazed.
Then terror surged with renewed force as Angel’s shadow loomed, sneering and smirking at her. To him, she was less than an ant. And he would treat her exactly that way. His flawless foot rose, toes gleaming with purple polish to match his hair, descending slowly to savor her dread. She tried to sit upright, to stand, to run, but it was futile. She could run for minutes and he’d catch her in a single step. Not that she even got the chance. His foot pressed down, and he did not hesitate any longer – his warm, soft flesh smothering her, the pressure building until body gave way all at once, a wet pop as things went crunch. Her last scream choked into an abruptly cut-off gurgle, a single little red dot of blood staining the ball of Angel’s perfect foot as he twisted it a little atop what was left of her, with a smug “Oopsie!” She had been reduced to the tiniest imaginable little red smear, her last moments entirely pain and terror and abuse, all to make her former-favorite femboy streamer a few bucks. Angel laughed and moaned mockingly a little more, flexing his toes up close for the camera to milk them for a few more donations before moving on to the next victims.
Ending 5: Under Pressure (Armpit smother/crush)
Catherine was unfortunate – today, Angel felt like humiliating his new toy to a degree beyond the usual. His eyes glittered darkly down at Catherine, as he began deliberately lifting one arm to reveal a smooth, glistening armpit, his webcam angled to catch the sheen of light glimmering on his sweat there, for the show. “Actually, it’s dealer’s choice today. So you get to smother in here, speck!” he murmured, voice a bratty tease. Then up came his fingertip with an unhappy passenger, pressing Catherine’s crumb-sized, naked form into the damp hollow with a single manicured finger. To Catherine, it was a plunge into a stifling swamp, salty-wet and oppressively humid – her red curls matted instantly as his warm, musky sweat coated every inch of her. Immediately, it was flooding her nose with a sharp, salty tang that burned her lungs. She thrashed, feisty little kicks more out of desperation than function, completely futile against the immense walls of slick skin. Her panic spiked further as he lowered his arm again, trapping her in a steamy, fleshy vice. Darkness swallowed her, the wet heat pressing in—sweat seeped into her eyes, her mouth, nearly drowning her as she choked on the hot, salty-sweet tide, bubbles of her screams fizzing uselessly against his hairless skin.
Her chest was heaving for air, her scattered thoughts almost gone from lack of air, when the pressure shifted – his arm tightened in against his side, crushing her slowly. Bones creaked, then cracked, pain ripping through her tiny frame as the soft but unstoppable wall of flesh ground down; her little chest caved, a wet crunch echoing in her ears as her final breath burst free, blood mixing with the sweat as she was reduced to a tiny trickle of red quickly diluted into the trickles of sweat that washed her away. “Delicate little bitch.” Angel giggled, lifting his arm to flash the camera her pulped remains, wiping her off into a tissue with a sneer as his fans watched with glee.
Ending 6: Hot and Heavy (Cock, smothering)
The glistening, gorgeous femboy leaned back in his chair, pink backlights casting a sultry glow across his flawless black-and-purple hair as he grinned at the camera. “Oooh, looks like chat’s got a steamy idea for our little toy,” he purred, glossy lips shining as he tugged at the waistband of his tight shorts. Catherine, a helpless half-millimeter speck, writhed naked on his fingertip as he licked one fingertip and pressed it lightly atop her to pick her up with the wetness alone. Her red hair was about all that the webcam picked up given her miniscule size, a pitiful flare against his finger’s skin.
“Down you go, my little slut-toy. Don’t pretend it’s not what you’ve always wanted, as one of my ‘biggest’ fans!” he teased, dropping her into the humid abyss between his shaft and sack. The chat exploded – “Drown her in it! Crush her! SHOW US, WE WANT TO SEE!” – as he adjusted himself to pin her under his shaft, letting the heat and sweat envelop her tiny form. Her screams faded into muffled gasps, lost in the slick, suffocating musk, trapped in the tiny wrinkles of his sack as his cock twitched, pressing her deeper into the sweltering trap. Angel moaned theatrically, tilting his head back for effect, his lip gloss catching the light. “Mmm, feels nice! I think I’ll leave her there for the rest of stream. Hopefully she enjoys it as much as I will.” he giggled, one hand playfully rubbing himself a little to seal her fate. And at some point in the evening, he thought he might have felt something pop down there. But by the time he checked after stream, he couldn’t even find a red dot to mark the little woman’s death. Not that he cared.
Ending 7: Going Down (Cockvore)
Angel leaned into the camera and licked his lips at the camera teasingly, hair shimmering under the lights. “Chat, I’m horny tonight. No, like… really,” he cooed, shiny-wet lips parting in a wicked grin as he stood up from his chair, revealing his cute little pair of shorts, thin and light and easily removed. He stood upright again and traced one finger along his crotch, outlining for the audience a distinctly… firm… shape within. Catherine stared at the thickening bulge just as intensely as anyone stuck watching from their monitors. To her, it was a literal mountain of manhood, and she was well aware that soon it would seem a lot bigger to her.
Without waiting another moment, he snatched her up, holding her up to the webcam for a moment. “Time to disappear, little one. Say goodbye to everyone!” he purred, tugging his waistband down just enough to reveal a throbbing cockhead. The chat roared, and Catherine was able to make out some of the frighteningly-lustful suggestions scrolling by at high speed – “Stuff her in! Drown the little bitch! Feed her to your gorgeous cock!”
She wouldn’t have to wait long – he certainly didn’t. A moment later, he pressed her tiny, thrashing body into the slit of his cock, any pathetically-tiny screams swallowed along with her in the fleshy abyss. His finger pushed more firmly, forcing her tiny form down the tight, slick passage, her struggles already weakening from lack of air as she slid toward his balls. Angel shivered dramatically, tilting his head back with a moan for the stream. “Oh, she’s fighting in there – just a little tickle,” he giggled, freeing the rest of his shaft to stroke it from tip to base a few times, ensuring his spasming inner muscles would drag her deeper. He didn’t want to go off this early in the stream, though. So once he was certain the little woman had fallen into a sea of cum within his balls, he stopped and winked at chat, promising more later. By ‘later’, though, she had long since drowned and then melted away in the sea of creamy white goo. Nothing remained of poor little Catherine.
Ending 8: Three’s a Crowd (Blowjob vore)
The titanic femboy tossed his head back with a dramatic flair as he turned to the camera for tonight’s surprise announcement. “By the way… surprise, lovelies – I invited a special guest over tonight!” he sang, beckoning another femboy streamer—lithe, platinum-blonde, and with a wicked grin every bit the equal of Angel’s – into frame. Chat approved very enthusiastically as Angel grinned and squirmed a little in his seat from some early low-key arousal. “But first, our tiny toy’s getting a front-row seat.” Catherine, a helpless little speck who was in WAY over her head at this point, was standing stark-naked on his desktop in wide-eyed awe of the two femboy gods… until Angel pinched her up with two shiny black nails – nearly cutting her miniature form in half by accident! – and then dropping her into the slick tip of his now-exposed cock.
She tried to protest, to cry out, even beg for mercy, but she didn’t have the volume to be heard… or the time to really try, either. Angel was already moaning softly while guiding his guest’s wet, eager lips down to his throbbing length. “Go on, darling, get to it. And remember… when I’m done, you swallow. Me, and our little toy. Suck me off and slurp her down like a good boy.~,” he purred, thrusting his hips gently as the blonde boy went to work down there. The blonde was mostly oblivious to the minuscule redhead caught in the chaos – she was too small to really feel compared to Angel’s thick, impressive cock. Catherine, for her part, screamed and flailed, almost drowning in the hot, pulsing tide of saliva and precum as she was tossed around the new boy’s mouth with every thrust. More than once, she was left clinging to the cockhead’s tip over the dark abyss of a waiting throat before it was pulled back again. But her determination to survive ended up being utterly meaningless. Her size was too much of a disadvantage, and the god-like boys were horny and eager about it. With a shudder and the lewdest moan imaginable, Angel came, flooding the smaller boy’s mouth with a huge, creamy load – and little Catherine as well, gasping for air, swirled helplessly in the mess. The blonde pulled back, mouth open and tongue out to show off Angel’s load for the camera… and then with a snap of his head, he swallowed it dramatically, gulping down both cum and poor, pathetic Catherine in one go. Angel pulled him up for a quick kiss and then turned to see what chat had thought of the X-rated start to the night.
Ending 9: Just a Toy (Fleshlight entrapment, crush)
Angel had already had a hot plan for tonight’s stream. Catherine was just the last piece he needed to do it. And so within moments, the lust-filled femboy was dangling Catherine precariously above a sleek, transparent fleshlight. “You picked a bad day to get my attention, sweet little Catherine…” he cooed, his glistening lips parting in a wicked grin. At the size of a mere crumb, Catherine’s naked little form was barely visible as she panicked and thrashed between his gorgeous, delicate fingers, her fiery defiance utterly pointless in the hands of a boy-god. “Into the deep end you go, my little cock-toy,” he giggled, pushing her firmly into the toy’s tight, lubed tunnel. Every horny loser on his stream was watching intensely as Angel pulled out his stiffening cock and firmly gripped himself, carefully aligning his cockhead to the pre-lubed entrance of the toy with a showman’s flair. With a slow, deliberate first thrust, he plunged inside.
Catherine wasn’t even visible inside despite the clear silicon walls, just a blurred speck pounded into the depths by her idol’s hard cock. She cried out in pain and fear, but her minuscule screams were almost instantly snuffed out as she was smeared into the slick walls, her body breaking apart under the pounding cock’s relentless pressure. Angel moaned lewdly for effect, his other hand curling against the desk as he picked up speed, reducing what was left of Catherine to a faint, wet stain smeared up and down his impressive length. Finally, with an adorable mewing little moan, he came, and a visible burst of his cum flooded the hollow of the fuck-toy. Even the tiny red streak was gone now, washed away by lube and cum. The fleshlight glistened with her remains, a brutal lube for his performance. “There she goes – at least she made me happy in the end,” he panted, winking at the stream. Pulling out, he set the the toy aside, still full and messy. He turned back to the camera as he caught his breath, blowing a kiss. “Which of you wants to be next, my lovelies?”
Ending 10: Stud-finder (Tongue stud, brutal, impaled)
Unfortunately for Catherine, someone on the stream donated one THOUSAND dollars to nominate her fate, and Angel was all over it. “Oh? Oh… oh wow, damn, someone’s feeling spicy today, huh? Alright then, big spender, you get the girl in the end. Or I guess I do, but you get to watch.~” he purred, flawless, cherry-flavored lips curling into a wicked smirk. Then he went to work, plucking up the tiny, frightened speck of a girl in one hand, and reaching up to fiddle with something in his mouth with the other. It took a moment with only one hand, but he managed, and when it came back down the other hand was holding a shiny, wet tongue stud – freshly removed. Catherine stared at the implement for a long, confused moment, before the horrible truth dawned on her. Then she started screaming and trying to escape – even jumping a hundred stories to her death would be better than the lingering, awful fate she had coming.
But of course, there was no escape, at her size. Angel simply brought his two toys together with deft, precise pressure and… impaled the tiny thing on the narrow point of the stud. It had a slight secondary flare near its tip, which held the gasping, bleeding girl in place once she’d been forced past it. She was still screaming, but silently, wetly, as her lungs were already ruined in the process of being run through by a tree trunk of metal. Even then, the worst was yet to come. Angel went on with the rest of his stream as Catherine dangled there, dazed and fading in and out of consciousness. But even in that state, she felt… a burning sensation. Hot… and painful. The saliva that now coated her, threatening to smother her with every twitch of the femboy’s tongue, was also lightly acidic… like all saliva, it was intended to tenderize food before swallowing.
Unfortunately, Catherine was meat in Angel’s mouth, and the saliva was doing its job. Her skin was burning, her wounds were being dissolved from the inside out, and there was nothing she could do about it. She twitched, impaled and helpless, her limbs softening into mush. Minutes passed, until his glossy lips parted wide for the camera again, revealing her half-dissolved form, a pathetic trickle of what used to be a girl, half-clinging to the metal spike. With a playful slurping sound, he curled his tongue backward and the last of her crumbled away, lost in his spit and promptly swallowed. “Mmh… they always taste better when you do it slowly!”
Ending 11: You’re Just Trash (Garbage disposal, brutal)
Chat had some choice opinions about Catherine – possibly because she’d been a bit of an attention-craving troll in the channel for months prior. So it didn’t take long for some vicious, petty vengeance to materialize in their suggestions. Angel decided to hold a channel vote, though Catherine couldn’t read the options from below. Once it was done, he made a face. “Aww, you guys aren’t even going to let me play with her for a bit first? Ruuuuude! …but fiiiiine, I guess since you all voted for it….” Angel whined, only half-kidding. He had hoped to play with the little brat-girl for a bit before snuffing her out… but at least this would be something he’d never done before. He simply picked her up and carried her out of the room. In his other hand, he held his phone, angled just right to capture his face and other hand. He carried her to the kitchen and walked over in front of the sink. Catherine felt her skin go cold as she looked down and saw the silvery basin… and the black pit in the center of it. Then, Angel blew her a mocking little kiss, and flicked the switch on the wall nearby, turning on the noisy, grinding garbage disposal below.
Catherine screamed in pure terror. Begging Angel for mercy, even for just another, less-awful death at this point. Her tiny, naked body thrashed and flailed uselessly against the massive fingertips holding her as Angel lifted her up and out in front of him, now positioned directly above the whirling blades unseen in the darkness below. With a quick release of his grip on her, he let her drop, her last screams completely lost in the noise as she plummeted into the dark maw of the garbage disposal. It didn’t even change sounds as she was ripped apart, too small even to have the same impact as dinner scraps. “Well, chat… that was pretty gross, but you got what you wanted. Just remember, compared to me, all of you are just trash!~ Better hope I never get my hands on you!”
Ending 12: Plugged In (Trapped in ass, buttplug)
Angel had been annoyed with Catherine making too much of a fuss in chat for a while now, and he had selected her as his victim tonight for a specific, satisfying revenge. Even though he’d asked chat to weigh in, in the end he decided she’d be going in his end. Specifically, up his cute pink little ass. He’d cleaned up thoroughly and made sure he’d labeled the stream ‘X-rated, subscribers only’ before starting. Now, it was time for the fun part. Without even a moment of hesitation, Angel brought the little cunt around behind him. “Oh, wait! You guys will want to watch this. Hang on a sec…” Angel brought her back around front, as his other hand wiggled his boxers down from his hips and onto the floor. She was staring now, fixated on the impressive cock Angel was packing. She’d had dreams about seeing it up close and personal. But nothing like this. And as Angel sat back in his oversized ‘gamer chair’, she realized his hand was carrying her close to the twitching cock, but… lower.
Whatever tiny protests she might have made were drowned out by Angel teasing her for the audience. “Time for a tight little trip,” he cooed, voice dripping with arousal and malice. His fingers brought her down, down, to the perfect, smooth entrance below his balls. He paused there with her briefly, savoring her panic, knowing she was probably disgusted and afraid. And then he pressed her wriggling form deep into the hot, snug vise of his ass. Her struggles tickled there for a moment, a fleeting sensation that almost ended her in an instant of reflex. He had to resist the temptation to liquify the little speck with a single firm squeeze of his clenching asshole. He pulled out a small, sleek butt plug, its chrome surface gleaming in the pink lights. With a slow, deliberate push – and no small amount of cute, whimpering moans – he sealed her inside himself, trapping her in the suffocating dark.
Inside, the pressure mounted – Catherine’s frail body buckling against the unyielding walls, her air thinning at the same time. It was a race to see if she would suffocate from lack of air before being crushed by the metal monster that had pushed inside after her, or the other way around. In the end, she dropped to her knees, then her face, blacking out – never to awaken again. Angel didn’t know, or care. He wasn’t planning to let her out till morning anyway. He just sat back up, adjusted himself (still hard from the play), a satisfied hum escaping his throat as he ran a hand through his perfect black-and-purple hair. “All gone,” he murmured to his audience in an almost dreamy, satisfied voice, smirking at the thought of the little woman’s brutal, buried end inside his hole.
Ending 13: Target Practice (Watersports)
Angel spent the entire stream taunting Catherine with things he could do to her, suggestions from chat and some of his own wicked thoughts as well. But in the end, he just bullied and flicked her around the desk all night, threatening to crush her one moment or swallow her like a Skittle the next. By the time stream ended, the little speck-girl was somehow still alive. She couldn’t believe it herself, having screamed herself hoarse during the teasing. Maybe it was all an act, a show. Maybe he thought she’d enjoy being his toy for an evening but was going to send her back now. Her thoughts were racing, and a spark of hope re-lit in her fear-soaked little brain. She looked up at Angel with wide eyes and messy, tangled hair from being flicked around like a bug all night.
The monitors had just been turned off, leaving the room silent except for the fading sound of PC fans cooling off. Angel stood up, stretched, and then looked back down at her. He smiled. It was not a nice smile. Catherine felt the fear grip her again as his massive fingers came down around her, roughly pinching her up from the flat surface. Angel turned and carried her out of the room, down the hall, and into… the bathroom. He simply walked over to the toilet and opened it, flicking her tiny form into it with an uncaring snap of a finger. She tumbled through the air, hoarse voice barely giving any force to her cries. She landed with a miniscule splash in the cold, porcelain abyss of his toilet bowl. Water rippled ever-so-slightly around her tiny body as she thrashed and sputtered, the spark of hope now completely gone again.
A low chuckle escaped Angel’s glossy lips as he pulled his boxers down and freed his cock, which one hand came down to help aim. At her. And in the next moment, he released the pressure that had been building for four hours of streaming. The enormous cockhead dangling above the bowl unleashing a torrential, seemingly endless stream of piss – hot, relentless, a high-pressure golden flood that battered her around the edges of the bowl like a hurricane. Catherine couldn’t catch her breath, gasping for air in the scant moments when she was bounced too far from his chasing stream and fell back into the bowl again. Then it found her again slamming her under the surface and against the lower walls, driving the last tiny bubbles of breath from her despairing lungs. One of the impacts against the cold, hard ceramic had broken something, and she couldn’t move her legs. She couldn’t swim, couldn’t reach the air so high above. Even when Angel’s stream finally weakened and came to an end, she didn’t surface.
She was already gone, body broken and air used up before she had a chance to come back up. Or maybe she could have been revived, if he re-grew her and tried some CPR. Angel didn’t care to check. His manicured fingers hovered over the flush valve, pausing just long enough to watch her bob helplessly in the yellowed water. Then, with a shrug, he pressed down. The whirlpool roared to life, sucking her into the pipes and beyond. Alive or dead, it didn’t matter – she wasn’t coming back. Angel zipped up, humming to himself softly, already forgetting the stupid little girl-toy he’d flushed away as he went to find something to eat.
Ending 14: Painted On (Fingernail gloss, suffocation)
One of the first suggestions from chat had been perfect, and Angel leapt at the opportunity to lock it in because he really wanted to try it with his tiny new toy. A faint smirk curled Angel’s soft, pink lips as he reclined, leaning forward with one bare foot propped up on the desk. He reached over and picked Catherine up, then dropped her onto his waiting toes. She now laid naked on his big toenail, her red hair a barely-visible flare against the layer of black gloss beneath her. “I know I already look perfect, but you guys have no idea how hard I work to maintain all of -this-,” he gestured up and down his leg and body, “…and I think it’s time to do a little pedi work, don’t you? I’ll be generous and let you guys watch, though.~” And with that, he set down the bottle of nail polish he’d opened while talking.
With a steady hand, he dipped a brush into a bottle of glossy black polish, the sharp chemical scent cutting the air and burning Catherine’s eyes and nose immediately. By now, she had recovered from the abrupt drop onto the hard nail, but she couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the oncoming, goo-laden brush. She tried to run anyway, but tripped and rolled, ending up on her back. She threw her arms up defensively and screamed his name, but he ignored her – if he could even hear her in the first place – dabbing the thick, dark liquid over her minuscule form. The first stroke pinned her legs, her struggles slowing as the gloss stuck to her flailing form and oozed up her body. The second stroke covered most of the rest of her body, coating her in a suffocating chemical shroud. The third stroke painted over her head, her little cries of protest turning to frantic bubbles as she tried to at least open an airway for herself.
Angel hummed softly, layering more polish, watching her thrashing fade to twitches, then nothing—her tomb hardening into a shiny, seamless finish. He blew on it a little to help speed things along. He could barely even make out the little bump that marked where he’d just trapped a woman under his nail polish. She was just too small and insignificant to matter, even as nail decor. Ah, well. He still enjoyed knowing she wasn’t his problem anymore, and his audience seemed happy with the prolonged suffering inflicted on the tiny girl. Over the next few days, he’d flex his painted toes several times for thirst trap moments – lounging in bed, stretching them up on the desk while playing with himself – getting off to the thought of her entombed little body, an almost-invisible detail for his devoted simps to drool over. Maybe some of them were jealous of her fate?
Angel would have to shrink a few more sometime, maybe a full matching set for every nail. Meanwhile, wasting away beneath the gloss, Catherine’s innate high spirits dissolved into despair. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t free herself. She hadn’t eaten in days. She regretted managing to make an airhole now, because it only prolonged her gruesome, wasting fate. He’d never even acknowledged her again after painting her on. She was just another prop for Angel, reduced to a cruel – and literal – footnote in his life of self-indulgent vanity.
She lasted a couple more days before finally smothering in her painted prison, deep in Angel’s shoe at the time. A pathetic, miserable little fate for his biggest, smallest fan.