The Game is "House"

The Game is "House"

Oftentimes it is the one you would least suspect, the one that defies the law of Occam's Razor. You could never imagine them doing it, but then it dawns on you...

How much do you really know about them?



          The sun rose, the cars ignited, the alarms went off. The day started just like every other day: A small and uninteresting day in the suburbs of a large city. Here was a place almost forgotten, cast aside by the urbanites. People here went about their lives with little incident, perhaps the most excitement coming from a skinned knee or a barbeque. Among the little houses arranged so neatly was one home in which things would be different, one home in which things had always seemed slightly to the left of where they should be. The neighbors would continue their lives today, just like any other day, blissfully unaware of the event that would change the lives of the fatal house's inhabitants forever. For the ones whom it affected, however, today would be nothing less than truly unimaginable.

          The horrid buzzing of an alarm clock could be heard in the distance. Growling it's terrible tone, it rushed closer and closer, as though it were an oncoming train. In a way, it was worse than that option: It meant that Crystal had to get up. Such a task was never among the favorite things of the sleeping blond beauty, as waking up before she was fully rested had resulted in more than a few trips to the ground from lack of energy. Such an experience was one she didn't feel like repeating, and so had tried to sleep through the alarm, at least for a while. That feat was quickly proved impossible. Anyone who has ever had to use an alarm clock knows they can't be ignored; they're designed to be inescapably irritating. Summoning her strength, Crystal raised her right arm and brought it down with the little anger she could manage, whacking the impetuous device with a dull thud. Fortunately, her aim was true, and the noise had left her. With a massive effort amounting to little affect on reality, the sleepy woman pulled herself out of bed, grimacing all the while. She had never thought of the prospect of a new day as particularly adventurous or useful, but she may have been able to stand it if not for her eternal routine that followed every awakening.

         Ambling over to the mirror that leaned against her wall, Crystal examined herself. She had slept without a pajama top again last night. She had to: It was simply too warm these days to wear one comfortably. Lifting her breasts and letting them fall as they may, Crystal tried her best to wake up. She could already feel her body starting to sway, something that in itself led to unpleasant enough of thoughts to want to awaken fully. The college sophomore was now itchy, and almost subconsciously reached to scratch herself in various areas. Very odd, and perhaps because she was tired, but Crystal could not remember the last time she was ever itchy. It had seemed like such a long time since she had chicken pox, and since that time had adapted to almost shutting out all itches entirely. Still half-asleep and gazing in the mirror, Crystal noticed she was sliding her fingers across her pubic area. Somewhat embarrassed, she quickly removed her hand from her pajama bottoms and opened her dresser. So many clothes she had come to possess in her lifetime, but she realized that none of them would do her any good. The temperature was often reaching record levels recently, and even with next to no clothes on, the heat was still unbearable. Deciding on a bright green tube top and remarkably short hot pants, Crystal lumbered over to the bed to don her ramshackle outfit.

         The door burst open unexpectedly, paving the way for what Crytal thought would be certain death from embarrassment. She had just removed her pajama bottoms while hovering above the bed when her landlord, Tiffany, had burst into the room. "Hey Crys, where's the ~ whoooa!!" Tiffany had recoiled in shock at the sight of her half-naked tenant. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't know you were awake yet!" Crystal rolled her eyes in response. "So you were gonna wake me up? For cryin' out loud, it's 7:30!" Tiffany sighed, still trying her best to avert her eyes. "Yeah, but your alarm already went off. I figured you were at least a little awake."

         "Well now I'm completely awake and nearly had a heart attack! Jeez, Tiff, can't you at least wait until I'm out of my room?" Tiffany, still standing in the doorway, was now growing tired of the conversation. "Anyway Crys, I wondered if you knew where the soap was. I can't find it anywhere, and I just bought a whole new pack of them last week, it's like there's a black hole in the bathroom or something." Crystal had, by now, been too far gone to pull here pajama bottoms back up and was, instead, trying to pull her shorts on as quickly as possible. "I don't know, Tiff, maybe there is one." Throughout Crystal's entire stay at this residency, she had always known Tiffany to be like this. Always absent-minded, she frequently forgot where she had put things, and often forgot to put things in those places in the first place. Entrusting soap - of all things - to her would result in it being placed in any number of locations except for the place it was supposed to go. She'd always find some excuse, like the phone would ring, or the TV would have something interesting showing on her way to the right place. The soap could very well be in the couch, for that matter. In all her time here, however, Crystal had also learned that Tiffany didn't like to be made a fool of, and had faced eviction many times for that reason. It's not as though Tiffany was too old to be playing that sort of game; she was only a couple years older then her tenant, 25 years at maximum. She never confided to anyone her real age, of course.

         Crystal pulled on her top as quick as she could manage with one hand, the other still covering her naked bosom. Quickly hopping up, she shuffled swiftly over to her dresser to find something to accessorize. "Anyway, Tiff, I don't know where that soap is, and I've gott get going. Go look for it if it's so important." Tiffany grudgingly accepted the fact that she would find no help here. "OK, Crys, but..." Tiffany paused at this moment. She had caught sight of Crystal's rear end, and could not break her focus. Something about it beckoned to her, perhaps it was the aesthetics, the familiarity; In any case, she couldn't take her eyes off the shapely form in front of her. Twirling her long brown hair around her finger, she slipped into an all but zombified state, her attention lying only on the extremely short shorts in front of her. "But what?" inquired Crystal, still buried in her dresser. At this, Tiffany snapped into coherence. "But... but nothing. I'll go find it." Tiffany backed out from her friend's room rapidly. Her face was warm, even warmer than the sun's warmth had already made it, and she could feel a tingling in her fingers and toes. What had come over her? She had never thought about her occupant in that context before, at least not that she could remember. But even past that, it wasn't right, was it? Tiffany didn't ever think she was that way before. She hoped she was just tired as she headed down to the kitchen, continuing to investigate the missing soap.

****

         The day dragged on lazily, like an old dog to its food dish. Crystal had gone off to work, but Tiffany had remained home. She had gotten the day off from her job, a luxury she could afford with the help of Crystal's rent. Having given up on her quest for the sacred bar of cleansing, she had decided to tidy up the house a bit. In doing so, she had come across many things she didn't remember bringing into the house in the first place. Multiple coins had been found on the ground, amounting to a prized treasure of a little over 2 dollars. Condiments of various origins had been discovered behind forgotten appliances. Odd substances were run across again and again, some of the things Tiffany couldn't believe occurred in nature. Past all this discovery, though, was one particular find which would be more unbelievable than anything growing in a corner. Satisfied with the result of her efforts on the main floor of the house, Tiffany decided to attack the basement. It had been far too long since she'd even been in that dank place, and certainly wasn't an environment she found favorable, to say the least. It had to be cleaned out every so often, in spite of the massive number of bugs and cobwebs. Leaving it in a state of disrepair was a health hazard. Summoning her courage, Tiffany plunged forward into the darkness that seemed to reach for her from the door, forging onward in the uncertain terrain. Whatever lights she could find provided little help. Only the edges of objects were made somewhat visible from the weak photons. Searching in what must have been in vain, Tiffany tried to find some source of light that would prove sufficient to see which walls needed to be washed, which boxes needed to be thrown out, which objects had to be burned to appease the demons that had possessed the dank room. Repeatedly trying her luck, Tiffany was all too fortunate to avoid crashing into any hidden objects. This held true for only a limited time, of course. Feeling a nick at her shin, Tiffany tripped forward, grabbing onto whatever support she could find, toppling stacks of boxes in the process. The whole ordeal resulted in a massive crash whose decibel level seemed inordinately high. It seemed odd that boxes could make such a sound. Pulling herself to her knees, at least, Tiffany tried to stabilize herself. "Owww... stupid boxes!" A distant, piercing chuckle could be heard from somewhere. Tiffany was, at this point, questioning her sanity. The laugh continued. "Who's there?!" demanded Tiffany, barely able to keep her head up properly. A small, human-like form could be seen standing atop one of the askew boxes.

         "Well, lassie, glad ta meet one who shares me sentiments on boxes!" The humanoid form had a sort of glow growing around it, revealing a small top hat on a tiny man. Tiffany was taken aback at this. A miniature man, talking... and in her own basement, no less! "Who..." The now senseless girl had trouble keeping her balance, never mind speaking. "Who... what the heck are you?!" With the same chuckle that had greeted Tiffany, the small man spoke once again. "Why, lassie, han'ntcha read the stories? The tales? Ya must have at least an idea, that ya must." Unable to think of what this strange being could possibly be, Tiffany did little more than shake her head, still woozy. "Well then, I s'pose I've got some introducin' to do! The name's Patty, dear lass, and I'm whatcha'd call a leprechaun" Stunned, Tiffany rose to her feet, now dwarfing the impish figure. "And you, my dear lass, have set me free from that horrid prison I been trapped wi'in. Seem I'm always gettin' meself stuck in somet'in." The elf brushed off his arms vigorously. "So, I be grateful enough t'give ye a wish! Anyt'in ya want!"

         Tiffany was awestruck at the proposal. She had known to be ready for anything, cleaning the basement; she always discovered something new. The very idea, though, that a leprechaun had lived underneath her home for who knows how long was quite a shock to her. More so was the idea of a wish. If this tiny man was telling the truth, she could have one wish for absolutely anything. But what would it be? Tiffany had no desire for money, so long as she had enough of it. She had never cared for fame, nor most of the things an average person might wish for. She decided she should think of something to wish for, just in case this man's story was true. Searching her soul, Tiffany could find nothing material that she wanted; she was always one more into things deeper than that.

         A low rumble could be heard from above. that could mean only two things: An earthquake, or Crystal was home. Seeing as the former was unlikely, especially since it was now late afternoon when Crystal usually got home from work, Tiffany began to panic. Her mind raced furiously. She couldn't possibly explain this tiny man to her tenant; she couldn't even explain him to her own self. Tiffany noticed she was pacing back and forth, a habit she thought she had broken long ago. She knew she had to think of something quickly to get this imp to leave, and she had to think of something good in case he really was a leprechaun. "Well, c'mon lassie, t'ain't got all day, doncha know!" Tiffany stopped pacing. She faced the miniature form before her and gave her brain one last shake. She stammered "Give me..." From the floor above, she could hear the lock of the door being clicked open. It was now, without a doubt, the return of her renter. The sound induced a cold sweat all over Tiffany's body, and she wiped her forehead repeatedly. "G-give me..." Stumbling over her words, Tiffany could barely form a coherent sentence, much less a wish. The door could be heard opening, and Crystal would soon discover the episode unfolding in the basement. Motivated by some unknown desire to hide the illogical, Tiffany's mind snapped. "Give.. me..." With a burst of confidence from an uncertain source, the nervous wreck of a girl declared her wish. "Give me Crystal!" she shouted, keeping her resolve.

         "Well, lassie, whate'er ya want f'r savin' this ol' oaf!" The leprechaun jumped in the air, clicking his heels together. "Ya-di-ti, one two three, give this lass a wish!" Leaping into the air, the imp threw his hat upwards with abandon. The headwear twirled in a most disturbing pattern, letting off the same faint glow that had surrounded the tiny man during the encounter. The glow surrounding the hat began to grow, emitting a soft white light. All at once, an overpowering flash lit up the room, nearly blinding Tiffany, sending her backwards to fall on her hindquarters. Blinking in disbelief, the dazed figure leaned forward so that she was at least sitting up. Trying in vain to make out where the leprechaun had been in the darkness, she could see nothing, as though the event had never took place. Lurching forward, Tiffany brought her arms forward in a feeble attempt to get up. Brushing along the ground, she felt something odd; something soft and somewhat warm, much like a discarded chicken finger from a fast food restaurant. Fumbling in the darkness in an attempt to determine what the object was, Tiffany heard a faint cry coming from it's direction. Slowly, inevitably, Tiffany realized in horror exactly what the object was. Getting enough of a grip on it, she lifted it up to her face, still only barely able to make out it's features. Carrying the object back with her, up the stairs and out of the basement into the living room, her suspicions were confirmed. There in her hand lie a tiny, completely naked, and very angry-looking Crystal.

         "Oh God Crys what happened? Why are you...?" Crystal was, at this point, screaming furiously. It did her little good, as her voice was now just as tiny as she was. Leaning in to put her ear closer, Tiffany strained to hear her boarder's protests. "~can't believe this ~...~ the hell did you ~...~ me, oh jeez and ~...~" was among what she could make out from the garbled mass of sound coming from the tiny nudist. Tiffany was honestly tryng to think of a solution to the mess her whim had created, but there was something else as well, something deep in the back of her mind that was fighting to surface. This most devilish of thoughts had struck her earlier, she had remembered. She was not able to take her eyes off of Crystal, not then or now. The difference was that now... now! Now it was a situation in which Crystal had no ability to fight back, regardless of what Tiffany decided to do to her. If she wanted to, she could even...

         Giving herself a psychological smack, Tiffany tried her best to snap out of it. She was the one - even if the leprechaun had made it happen - who had gotten Crystal into this mess. She wasn't the kind to shirk her responsibilities that easily, even if she'd never admit them to another person. "OK Crys, hang on just one sec, alright? I'm gonna go get something. Be right back!" Setting Crystal down on the sofa, Tiffany raced up the stairs into her bedroom. Tiffany had recalled the items she had found in the house that day. Among them was one item she found particularly odd: A toy stethoscope. She had remembered bringing it with her when she moved out, since it was one of the few kinds that really worked, and her mindset on these things had been to never throw them out unless they became a real problem. Searching through the pile of miscellaneous items, tossing aside strange object after odd paraphenalia, she came across a thin cord beginning from under one pile and ending under another. Clearing off the biggest chunks of the piles, Tiffany yanked the cord out from under the remainder. "Victory!" she proclaimed. Tiffany placed the end of the stethoscope on her chest, fighting for a spot inamongst her bosom. After what seemed like only a few seconds, she could make out her heartbeat. Figuring this was satisfactory, Tiffany pulled the end of the scope out of her chest... but failed. She had wedged the apparatus deeper in her bosom than she had figured, and her inordinarily tight bra wasn't helping matters. Yanking and tugging, the buxom girl could not for all her strength pull the device out. Only one thing to do, she decided. Reaching around to her back, she unhooked her bra, letting her luscious melons free. It seemed as though they swelled in size, and they may well have, as she felt a tremendous release when the garment was loosened. The stethoscope now came easily from within her breasts, accomplishing the mission she had set out to do. At this, her mind began to stray again... if she could hear her heartbeat, then what about Crystal's...? Maybe... she could hear her, have her... consume her, and feel it, listening to a play-by-play on the toy... But she couldn't do that, could she? Crystal was more than her roomate: she was also a friend that Tiffany was not prepared to lose. Besides, girls thinking about girls... it was just wrong, that's what it was. She wasn't raised this way. There was no way she could allow herself to be involved in that way with Crystal, and she certainly couldn't think of herself as such a deviant to be aroused by thoughts of consumption. Still, for all her rationalization, Tiffany could not escape her feelings. She also knew, however, that she couldn't give up the rent Crystal paid each month either. With that thought in mind, she returned from the bedroom, down the stairs, into the living room in which she had left Crystal.

         The stethoscope still in her hand, Tiffany advanced toward Crystal's tiny body, still left on the couch as she had been. "OK Crys, I should be able to hear you with this. Fire away!" The scope placed up against the miniscule form, encompassing her entirely, Crystal yelled like she never knew she could. "TIFF WHAT THE HELL! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, WHY AM I TINY, AND... WHY AM I NAKED!? WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!?" "Don't worry Crys, I think I know what did this..." Thinking back, Tiffany remembered that the leprechaun was inordinately small. The likeliest explanation was that the magical little fellow had estimated Crystal's height wrong, and made her tiny in transferring her to where Tiffany was. More than that, however, Tiffany also remembered something else... That at that exact moment, the whim that had crossed her mind involved her thoughts on Crystal from the morning; that she wanted Crystal, but truly wanted Crystal... She began to wonder if the leprechaun had known what she was thinking at the time and had fulfilled her most secret desire... But now was not the time for that. Was it? She knew she'd never get this opportunity again, and couldn't stand the thought of living with a pall like that hanging over her. Gazing at the puny toy before her, Tiffany felt a sense of ultimate power; as though she could do absolutely anything she wanted and nobody could do a thing about it. There was simply no chance she could let herself miss this, none at all. She wanted Crystal's body; she wanted her being. Her eyes still locked on the incredible shrinking woman, her voice boomed out in an eerily more ominous tone. "I think I have an idea, Crys. I'm gonna go get a few things that might help you out. Stay right here, OK?" Crystal was still shouting something, but it was no longer audible to anyone but herself. The bombardment of vibrations resulting from Tiffany's footsteps shook Crystal to her core. Her legs gave out promptly, and she fell to her knees in despair. The situation she was now in was truly beyond her imagination, and even normal things she took for granted every day seemed so big and imposing. All she could do was trust her friend to set her free from this prison of limitations. Even unaware of Tiffany's ulterior motive, she didn't have much faith in this prospect, but as of now, her only option was to wait.

****

         It seemed as though hours had passed for Crystal, still in her pathetically tiny form. She felt helpless, waiting for the surely cockamamie plan her friend was cooking up. Every so often, Tiffany would leave the kitchen, go to some other room in the house, and come back, always passing through the living room. She never carried anything with her, and this bewildered Crystal to no end. Lazing about, the heat far too overbearing to even think about a plan to set things right, Crystal was resigned to whatever fate she may receive. Her naked body was stretched out, and during the afternoon she had shifted to many different, sometimes awkward positions. It was understandable, of course. Whenever one is hot, they tend to change their position to whatever is coolest at the time, and to hell with inhibition. She was lying spread-eagle on her stomach when Tiffany finally returned, carrying what appeared to be the oddest objects for size-changing...

         "Time to wake up, Crys!" bellowed Tiffany. Crystal awoke with a start, pulling herself to an upright sitting position. Realizing how she had been lying, the tiniest blush could be seen on the miniscule cheeks. Turning her gaze upward to meet Tiffany's distant eyes, Crystal observed her landlord from top to bottom. She had changed clothes, for one thing. She was now wearing a two-piece bikini, exposing what seemed to be a mountain of flesh to such small eyes. As her gaze fell down, Crystal noticed that the behemoth before her was holding a funnel and a bowl of sugar. Her mind instantly reached the same conclusion as it would have had she been in a cartoon and the implements being held were a knife and fork. Crawling back, crabwalking even, Crystal tried her best to distance herself from the giant. She gave up soon, on realizing two facts: One, she couldn't possibly get away now, it was physically impossible. Two, she didn't know Tiffany's plan yet. Right now, her best bet was to trust her friend, or so she thought.

         "Now now, Crys, don't worry, I'll get you back to the right size. First, though..." Tiffany bent down to meet her toy. "First, we're going to have a bit of fun." Crystal started to run, but never got off the ground. She still had trust in her friend, and she knew in her heart that nothing too bad could possibly befall her. The giantess spoke once more in a massive voice. "Now Crys, we both know you'll never be tiny again. We've gotta make the most of this, doncha think?" Crystal did her best to calm her jangled nerves, using all her will to nod slowly. Tiffany smiled. "Good, that's good." Bending down, yet further, Tiffany positioned her face right in front of Crystal's body. "I promise you," said the omnipotent voice, "you're gonna enjoy this." With that, Tiffany threw out her tongue, encasing Crystal in a rough mess of saliva and flesh. The giant tongue ground against her tiny form, lifting her entire body off the ground, throwing her to what was now her own floor. Landing on her rear against a tough surface of what had once been soft velvet, Crystal nearly went into shock. Her friend had meant it as only a playful lick, but that one action had turned her whole world upside down. She began to wonder if trusting someone thousands of times her mass was such a good idea...

         Tiffany had begun to set her planned ritual in action. With one thumb on the bottom of the funnel, she filled the receptacle with the sugar she had brought. Crystal could see that she was being generous with the sugar, some overflowing from the apparatus at the end. A massive finger dove into the middle of the bowl, rotivating the contents, sending much of the sugar out onto the floor. "Now Crys, here's the game." Crystal saw a massive hand coming toward her, encompassing her entire body before she could protest. Darkness surrounded her now. A wall of flesh crushed her from every side, cutting off her ears and eyes from the world. She felt despair growing, gnawing at her gut. Fortunately, it was only a moment that this state of affairs had existed. Her fleshy container had opened up, making the world available to her eyes once more. Below her, she could see the funnel, with a small pit in the very center. The voice of Tiffany could be heard behind her once again. "Now Crys, the game is: I drop you in here, and you have to escape. Simple, yeah?" Crystal couldn't understand. Such an easy game, there's no real reason Tiffany could have wanted to spend such time on preparing for this, could she have? Not much time was given to think on the question, as Crystal found herself being lowered into the sugar mass, almost as though it were rushing up at her. She felt like she was falling, but in the hands of her now-gargantuan landlord, she also felt secure; she knew that no harm would come to her.

         Tiffany dropped her tiny friend in the center of the sugar, giggling when the figurine found it remarkably hard to keep her footing. Assuring herself one last time that this was the action she truly wanted to take, her voice echoed forth once more. "OK Crys... Ready, set..." Lifting the funnel up above her head, out came the final syllable. "GO!"

          Crystal had enough difficulty keeping her footing in the unintegral terrain, and fell to her knees alomst once every second. Fortunately, she didn't have far to go: Her knees barely reached much of an angle before they were supported again by the granulated slopes. Falling to her belly, she decided to give crawling a shot, as climbing certainly didn't seem to be doing it for her. With each surface of her body that pressed against the rough surface of sweetener, more and more of the white stuff became stuck to her. She had already been sweating for quite some time before, but now, climbing with all her might, she was coated in what could have been called a membrane of salty residue. Suddenly, while reaching for a solid chunk of sugar, Crystal erred, her foot slipping down to gravity, her body following suit. The tiny girl screamed, her skin being ground by the high-friction surface as she slid down, burning away at her left hip. Crystal shifted herself as best she could, ending up on her back, sliding down the sweet slope. Her hindquarters quickly became packed with sugar, forcing her glutes apart. For all her sweating on the rest of her body, in between her cheeks had been the greatest concentration of moisture. The sugar had packed itself - just as it tends to do when stored in damp cupboards - and was forcing it's way up and in, causing Crystal to feel a sense of utmost embarrassment, even now as she was struggling to escape her sugar-coated detainment location. Reaching the center of the pit, Crystal couldn't help but laugh. Tiffany was right: this was a lot of fun, for something that seemed so much like a child's fascination with an insect.

         Crystal stood up as best she could, still on her knees for balance. Giving her rear end a few quick strokes to knock the sugar stuffing out from it's containment, the lilliputian woman fell forward, ready to climb again. Something wasn't right, though... Crystal could see sugar falling towards her, but not just from where she had just fell. That would have been perfectly understandable. What she saw, however, was a steady stream of white pebbles heading straight for her from all directions. Her knees and feet slowly became buried in this torrent of foodstuff, and panic soon set in. She saw that the sugar level in the funnel was decreasing quite rapidly, so told from the fact that the lip of the instrument seemed to be fleeing from the white mass. Now motivated by blind fear, Crystal ran, tripping over herself, in a desperate bid to reach the edge. If only by speed, margin of error and luck alone, it seemed she was reaching her goal. Only a few feet - as she perceived - away from her now, the top of the funnel was within her grasp. Lunging forth in one last effort, Crystal reached for salvation, for a funnel lip that may as well have been made of solid gold. She came closer, closer; time seemed to slow to a stop for one glorious moment, as Crystal knew for certain she would just barely reach the edge! Just a few more millimeters... but something went wrong. Just as she was about to reach the edge of the funnel, it shifted away from her, sending her toward the plastic slope of the funnel and crushing her hope of victory. Falling facedown on her stomach with a dull thud, Crystal rolled down the plastic drain, flinging off the sugar that she had collected to her form, slipping oddly on the smooth surface every so often from her lubricated skin resulting in a sickening sensation. She felt a dull force acting on her shoulder and neck, her whole body flipping over on this vertex. She had not realized that there was still sugar left in the funnel, which was what had caused her to stop so abruptly. Her body weakened and unresponsive, Crystal could not pull herself into coherence. She could feel her environs shifting and sinking beneath her, and the lip of the funnel growing ever more out of reach. Within moments, her vision was completely obstructed, her body felt like it was falling. She had reached the bottom of the funnel. Sinking fast, Crystal's body was completely inert, and could do nothing but watch as she fell out the bottom, as the roof of her house, now visible, sped away from her... as she fell inexorably down. Without warning, her vision was cut off again, except this time she could not see anything. Once again she was surrounded by darkness, once again did she feel the embrace of warmth... except this time, she landed and was immediately surrounded by a moisture she couldn't understand. It pervaded every part of her body, surrounding her flesh, coating her form in a way more thorough and completely than any leotard. The heat that accompanied was also unbearable, even more so than before, forcing her into a state of absolute paralysis. One couldn't tell how much of the moisture was foreign and how much, indeed, had been produced of the sweat glands of the drenched girl. Crystal was, perhaps, in denial; she knew where she was, where she had to be, the only place on earth this could be, but she couldn't admit it. She refused to believe that her friend had done such a thing. There it was, though, objective reality and not a thing she could do about it. She knew in her heart that her friend had betrayed her; she knew that she had been dropped into the mouth of Tiffany.

         "Mmmm.... " moaned Tiffany. "Cryth you thure are thweet," she stammered, barely able to speak. It was as though she were chewing a ridiculous amount of gum, trying to speak over the body of her tenant. Of course, all it amounted to for the fated snack was simple noise: It hadn't been properly formed by the giantess' tongue before reaching her. Sliding her tongue around the quivering being inside her mouth, Tiffany became quite aroused. She lifted her hands to her chest and felt her supple breasts, deriving intense pleasure from the thought of her friend being in such a position. Her mind was steeped in the most potent liquor, that which made her drunk with power, power to do anything to the life inside her... even, if her throat were to flinch or tense up...

         But it was then that Tiffany got a much greater idea, a much more devilish and evil idea filled with only the most carnal of her desires. She could admit that to swallow her tenant and make her a true resident of her body would be an insurmountably outrageous feeling, a rush that would not end quickly. More than that, however, was something she had remembered from one particular man she had been with; something she had never previously considered in her life, but afterwards became quite a fan. She knew, then, that she would put her plan into action. Sucking on the body within her one last time, Tiffany opened her mouth and let the slimy figure slip out into her hand. A wriggle of life still was with the small victim, as she shifted uncomfortably, still encased in enzymatic fluid. Her skin glistened in Tiffany's hand, making her appear as though she were made from gold, perhaps platinum, the lustre of a precious metal in any case. To Tiffany, this was not lost; she, too, had noticed the glimmer, the spark, that which made her prize worth more to her than it's weight in gold. Who needs gold anyway, when you're about to reach your life's peak?

         "Cryyyyystal...." beckoned Tiffany. A small shift was observed in the miniature figure. An evil grin spread across the face of the giant landlord, now almost a lord by herself, as she realized her plan would come to fruition. Jostling her prize in her hand, Tiffany had managed to wake Crystal up sufficiently that she could open her eyes. "Crystal...." murmured the towering buxom. Crystal was taken aback by the looming being before her. Though she could instantly recall the events of the past minute, she could not speak out nor move; her body was held by a thick and heavy coating of Tiffany's saliva. Tiffany spoke out once more: "Looks like you lost, Crys." she said, smiling widely. Her mouth opened again, about to deliver what may well be the last thing Crystal heard. "You know, Crys, in video games when you lose there's often an embarrassing game over screen?" Crystal knew this well: there was a time in her life in which she had done nothing but play the curs'd things, devoted to them utterly. "But then in, like, role-playing games, there's always a big movie scene before that showing how you die? Well, we're gonna skip that part of the game," Tiffany cooed, an expression of pure demonism possessing her face. "We're gonna skip that and go right to game over. Just 'cuz I know you don't like waiting." Crystal could not understand what was meant by this. She furrowed her brow and probed her mind: What was the enigmatic girl up to? What could be game over? Feeling a lurch in her chest as her surroundings seemed to grow around her, Crystal realized that Tiffany was lowering her down. Still in a stunned state, she couldn't think much past what was happening directly to her. Her view was rapidly changing: Floor, roof, wall, hand, floor, butt.... butt.... butt... Suddenly she realized what Tiffany had meant by Game Over. This time it was different: this time she knew her landlord would break the barrier of inhibition and actually do it. In her mind, Crystal was flailing wildly, but her body didn't respond. Her fear was simply too great, as though a massive weight were forbidding her to move. She watched as the bikini Tiffany had changed into was being slowly lowered, rolled, slid off of the gigantic posterior before her. The two massive globes may have been as big as the real world to the now tiny Crystal, divided evenly down the center by what was definitely the darkest abyss she would ever know. The loud, overwhelming voice of Tiffany could be heard far above: "This'll be your new room, Crys. It's a bit snug, but don't worry; it's nice and warm!" Tiffany giggled on finishing her sentence. Crystal could see she was being moved upwards, toward the butt of her friend but definitely too high for anything to happen... what could this mean? All of a sudden, Crystal got her answer as she was dropped, falling downwards while still facing the giant ass in front of her. Though it had seemed to be of gargantuan proportion before, it was absolutely collossal now. Landing softly, the light seemed to shut most of itself out from Crystal's view. She realized what happened, all too well. She had been dropped into the bikini bottom of her landlord, forced against the giant behind through the miracle of elasticity. A pungent odor akin to sweat filled Crystal's olfactory. Her body, still sopping wet, slid against the giant crack before her, slipping, sliding in with no resistance. Her arms and legs contorted to the oddest positions, but she could not move them; she was pressed against a powerful wall of flesh by the stretchy fabric. Any movement she made brought her naught but closer to her end, now wedged between the two enormous cheeks. The warmth was as though she were sitting in front of a fire, she felt it on her face like a mask and on her body like a blanket. It seemed that for her, there would be no escape from the all-intrusive heat that dogged her throughout the day, but rather a full submerge into it, becoming one with that heat, submitting to the predator that had chased her for so long. After all, it was not her circumstances nor Tiffany who was her captor; it was that heat that had forced her into final destiny, that had so utterly beaten her. Crystal's vision went completely dark for what she assumed would be the last time, and she embraced that darkness. It too, along with the heat, would not abandon her, even as her knowledge of physics and reality had. It was comforting to her that although she could count on nothing else in this world any longer, the darkness and the heat together would accompany her forever. Her body slid deeper into the divide, and a jet of stagnant warmth greeted her. She knew that her fate lie within the dark source of the warmth, and she accepted it; just as she did, it accepted her, wrapping its wrinkled lips around her face, tugging, pulling, dragging her in. A force could be felt on her back, a force from a circular, soft protuberance: A force from her predator's finger. Darkness still encased her as she was forced up and forth, forth into the dark hole that she knew would consume her. Her head was taken first, the moist rose encircling her lovely neck, by which she may have been strangled... Her shoulders came next, and she slid in deeper with ease. When the pseudomouth came to her breasts, she could feel herself stop for a moment. Her breasts were forced, ground against the lips of the monster's opening, and she felt her world spin as she was twirled inside. As if by accident, she quickly slipped deeper, up to her waist in one motion. The soft walls of the rectum were coated in thick moisture and heat that would bake her if she weren't used to it, and a most potent stench ran throughout the system, seeming to penetrate Crystal's very soul. She couldn't understand how there was so much of a difference between the smell within someone and the smell from a freshly released load from that same place, but without a doubt, it was unquestionably stronger. Her hips had caught on the entrance, which refused to give more for the added girth. She could feel a pressure on her foot, pulling on her legs, pulling her out... but such was not the case. She had slid back a tad, that much was true, but she was only twirled once more within the cavity, the moisture on her body lubricating herself against the already sickeningly thick, wet surface of her container. On a second push, the entryway had no trouble accomodating her wide, fertile hips, and her legs soon followed suit. They rushed up to greet her, bending her body into a compact ball shape, spinning against the overly frictionless surface that surrounded her. Her feet were the last to enter, and she could hear a wet popping noise as they were accepted, bringing a smile to her lips. "Just like in the cartoons," she thought. This smile soon cracked into a giggle, and inevitably a full belly-laugh. The final irony had sent the imprisoned femme into a fit of laughter, banging her hands against the flesh that encompassed her entire body, kicking her legs against the same. Suddenly, an intense pressure surrounded her from all sides, closing in, crushing her. The flesh that caressed her form now squeezed it, pressed it, knocking the breath out of the helpless girl. She felt herself sliding into more warmth, more stench... more darkness. Her captress was squeezing, sending her deeper, deeper into the eternal abyss, deeper into that pitch-black void. She forced herself to stay conscious, travelling further onward into the body of her captress, and succumbing to that intense heat which had pursued her, plowing through dense masses of human waste. Her breaths were not breaths now, but screams, screams that she knew nobody could hear and that nobody would care about. Endlessly, she slid onward into the tunnel, never to escape the death-carrying black.

         Outside, Tiffany was on cloud nine. She could feel her victim screaming, kicking, bashing against her walls. She felt that intensely pleasurable object slide against her alimentary chute, fighting for its life. She had reached around underneath her new mouth and was stroking her fingers against her now dripping labia. The two together elicited groans of nothing but the highest form of sexual pleasure for the goddess, providing her with a rush that she knew she would feel the rest of her life: That of absolute power over another being, regardless of that being's free will. Liquids dribbled from her overeager pubic region, coating the inside of her legs to create a slippery feel that only enhanced her pleasure. From the opening above, too, came forth a slight trickle of oak-hued fluid waste, creating a sense of rough slippage between her glutes. Within mere seconds, her very being exploded in a mess of sexual delight, a torrent that completely overwhelmed her soul, throwing her to the ground in ecstacy. Screaming and kicking at the air, her body contorted into positions one would normally think impossible, her feet bashing against whatever they found. Juices gushed forth from her nether regions, coating the floor in a puddle that seemed to keep growing beyond her control, purging her body of all moisture. From her position on the floor, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the dead television screen, reminding her once more of what had truly just occurred, and she became all the more carnal for it, launching a stream of fluid into the air, all over the couch, barely managing to keep her second mouth closed. Her rear was now lifted into the air in a most uncomfortable position, sending an enormous wave of pleasure through her body from the feeling of her inflated anus grinding against that fecal matter which escaped. With one last shot, her vagina was now drained of liquid, sending a tingle throughout her body, from her toes to her fingers. Thoroughly exhausted, she settled once again, lowering her body to the ground. Unable to bring herself into sync with the world, she lay there for minutes before opening her eyes again. Just within her reach, she saw the toy stethoscope that she had brought to communicate with what was now her body's tenant. Pulling herself up towards the toy she had left on the couch, she grabbed it by the cord, falling back for lack of strength, bringing the toy back to strike against her face. The action evoked no feeling from her, no anger; she had not the energy left to feel. Still lying back, she popped the scope into her ears and brought the cup end down, down to her nethers. Placing it against her crotch, she heard only her heartbeat for a short while. Then, however, it was without a doubt: The sound of her friend's laughter mixed inamongst her own body's sounds, ringing through the background noise clear as the bells of heaven. "See... Crys..." she murmured between breaths. "I... told you... we'd have fun...."