They had been at their little game long enough that Speck had forgotten her job, her old life, her name. For all she knew, it may have been centuries. How long did humans live? How long did specks live?
A rumble, a flash of light. The ceiling disappeared. She lifted her.
These were the moments when textures ruled all, when the light was too bright to see and the sounds were too vast to put together. She felt heat and moisture and softness, and she clung to it without having to hold on. But she wouldn’t have struggled even if she could have; she threw her arms back against the moisture and sighed, wrapping it around herself while her eyes adjusted to the brightness.
“You seem chipper this morning,” Miss said. Her voice rattled Speck’s bones, echoed inside her head. The words were blood in her veins. When she spoke, Miss transformed her. The light was fading from her eyes; Miss was beginning to form before her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Speck whispered. She whispered because Miss could hear her when she did, and Speck loved to remind herself of that. The colors in front of her--browns and darker browns and reds--began to coalesce into shapes. A round dark cheek pecked with freckles. A plump nose. Full, wide lips.
“I missed you,” Speck whispered again. She whispered because Miss could hear her when she did--even though she was miles and miles tall.
Miss’s massive face formed a hint of a smile, one cute dimple carving a new canyon. “Do you know where you are?” Miss asked--whispering, too. “Do you know how I lifted you?”
Speck put her hands to her sides, feeling. She felt the surface tension of the moisture behind her but couldn’t break it with her hands. Behind the warmth and softness of skin--just vaguely--she could hear a pulse. “Fingertip,” Speck whispered. “You licked it and touched me and lifted me, didn’t you?”
Miss nodded.
“I’m so tiny that I just cling to you. Like a speck of dust.”
Miss nodded again.
“How do you do it, Miss Goddess?”
Miss’s bottom lip disappeared under her top. This was the only gesture Speck remembered, the only sign that they had once been the same size--back then, she found it charming. Enlarged to these proportions, with each tooth dwarfing her pathetic body, knowing that this gesture could destroy her utterly if Miss desired it…
“I don’t want you to think like that,” Miss said. Intruding on her thoughts again. Her mouth was straight; high overhead, her wide green eyes were turned downward. Those eyebrows--a full football field away--were arched upward. Not anger. Concern.
The fingertip began to slowly tilt upward, to swing back behind her like a carnival ride. She didn’t bother holding on--if Miss had wanted her to fall, then she would fall. Then the vertical surface became horizontal, and Speck found the strength to pull herself up. She weighed so little that she stood atop Miss’s saliva like it was gelatin. As she adjusted herself, Miss leaned back onto a lounge chair the size of a city, moving her finger lower on her body, past that broad chest and round stomach. She was nude again. Speck shivered.
“Say that shit I like,” Speck whispered, bouncing up and down on the fingertip.
Miss ran her hand through her black hair, toying with the tight curls. “It’s so dumb though,” she huffed.
“You made me smaller so you’ve got to say it,” Speck said. She folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her tongue, certain that Miss could see it. “Those are the rules.”
Miss rolled her eyes and shook her head. She lowered the finger more, down towards her body, and smirked. “Oh, look at you down there!” she shouted like a teenager in a school play. “You’re even smaller than ever!”
“Tinier,” Speck corrected.
“You’re even tinier than ever!” Miss narrowed her eyes, affecting a squint. “If this keeps happening, there’s not gonna be anything left of you!”
Speck’s hand had crept between her legs. She, too, was nude--she was always nude--and she pressed her palm into the softness of her bush, fingers playing along her labia. She leaned towards Miss, feeding her the line. “I’m nothing but a…”
Miss shook her head. “No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“It’ll make me happy.”
Miss frowned. She put a finger to her lips, licking it slowly. “...you’re nothing but a speck.”
“Yessssssssss,” Speck whispered; her fingers slid just inside of her, feeling the rising wetness. “Please, Miss, can Speck explore your perfect body?”
Miss’s lips perked up. “Will it make you happy?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Speck cried.
And so she lifted her again, rising higher and traveling up the length of her body. She fell to all fours, kissing the fingertip, tasting the sweetness of saliva with the slight salty tinge of Miss’s sweat. The fingertip shook--just a slight tremor but enough for her to know that Miss had felt her. She licked harder, pressed herself down firmer, slid her hips across the slick surface until the flat wall of her fingernail lifted her from the fingertip and deposited her onto a new warm surface.
“Do you know where you are now?” Miss asked. With each word, the flesh around her seemed to shift.
Speck took in the sights. Dark flesh just above, dark flesh just below. A dark red blemish in the perfect smoothness of her skin nearby--an infected hair follicle perhaps, or a bug bite. The skin overhead folded delicately nearby, pinching together in a long row.
“I’m just under your boob,” Speck said. She walked closer to where the massive breast emerged from her abdomen and ran her fingertips across it. It shook--a wave that nearly knocked Speck backward. “Right one. You’re slightly more ticklish there.”
“Very good,” Miss said. “You may kiss it if it will make you happy.”
But Speck dove face-first into the point where the breast came to rest, burrowing into the soft flesh. She dug her hands into the soft flesh, pinching it, while her mouth bit and her tongue tasted. The very movement of her tiny body seemed to be causing sweat to rise, to soak her from head to toe, and she shook with joy. Miss was washing away what was outside her, cleansing her of her Speck parts, the parts that felt lonely, the parts that gave her nightmares as she slept in her...
hen the ceiling lifted suddenly, and Speck slid out back onto the surface of Miss’s stomach, dragging a trail of sweat behind her. She opened her eyes to find Miss’s gigantic fingernails cupped under the breast, lifting it a bit into the air.
“I don’t know what was happening in there,” she said, “but I didn’t like what I was getting from you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Speck was panting. Her eyelids fluttered. Her fingers were still inside herself, still idly stroking. “F-fine,” she gasped. “J-just another--”
But the sky had disappeared, and a mountain of warm flesh was pressing Speck deep into Miss’s stomach, folding her into tiny rolls of fat. Everything around her was Miss once again, and she exulted, licking the fingertip, thrusting against it with her hips.
“This is what you like, isn’t it?” Miss asked. Even when Speck was surrounded by flesh, the voice was everywhere; she could hear the soft murmur of respiration beneath her before the words were even formed. “Nothing but me, huh?”
Speck couldn’t speak; she was in too much ecstasy. She spread her legs wide, letting the enormous digit press down against her whole slender body, fucking every nanometer of her at once.
“I just worry about you,” Miss said. “And… and all this.”
The finger was beginning to slide now, carrying Speck with it down the slope of her stomach. The smell of sweat was beginning to give way to a musky scent, one that slid into Speck’s nostrils like a rope, ensnared her mind, lifted her from ecstasy to orgasm.
“And what does it say about me--that I like this too?”
The soft surface was harder now--bone beneath flesh. Speck was still in her thrall, thrusting herself to orgasm again, like hard shocks to her vagina over and over again.
“Am I using you?”
The bottom dropped out--and Speck slid inside her. The instant she did, she was soaked, covered in Miss’s coital juices, washed once more in her sex. She slid upward, at an arch, as the pressure of Miss’s finger lifted her onto her clitoris. The ground began to rumble.
“But--oh goddess--you just…”
Miss turned her over, pressed downward on her ass. She embraced the massive nub with arms and legs, thrusting against it.
“You…”
A scream. Miss lifted her finger, not daring to press down on Speck as it happened. Through blurry eyes--still seeing stars--Speck could see her other fingers thrust inside her. She sighed, arms splayed, falling asleep on Miss’s warm clitoris, her words wrapping her like a blanket.
“...you lift me.”
Keyasha slid her jeans back on with one hand, yanking it tight over the wide curve of her hips before slipping the button tight. She had forgotten that this was a lab day--she’d normally opt for a skirt. But she managed to get it on before the clear plastic doors slid open and the lab tech darted in. He held a black container the size of his fist in one hand and some sort of gadget in the other--he’d explained it to her at some point, but it barely mattered anymore.
“Miss Cope, please hurry,” the tech said. “We’ve got to--”
“Right, right,” Keyasha sighed. She looked down at the tip of her index finger, the sticky dot she’d just scraped off of herself. Without the little chip they’d given her, she could barely see Millie. She’d been shocked by how thin she was, how pale. Now, she was barely a dot, her hands the same width as the grooves in Keyasha’s fingerprint. WIth a low sigh, she carefully slid her lover into the black chamber, blowing her a kiss. “Any results yet?”
“She seemed to be shrinking more slowly when you were here before,” the tech said. “Good moods slow the virus down, we suspect, but--”
“But she’s shrinking faster now,” Keyasha interrupted, sliding her shirt over her head.
The tech nodded solemnly. “There’s less of her than ever,” he said. “But by our readings, her moods are off the charts. Nobody knows what’s going to happen to her now, but like we’ve said, you get an hour every two days--any longer and you risk infection. Maybe next time instead of giving her what she wants, you might encourage her to fight it some.”
Keyasha looked up from the little black isolation chamber, into the stern eyes of the tech. The chip was empathic as well; she knew precisely how Millie was feeling. With a smirk, she pushed the tech aside. “I’ll give my baby what she wants,” she said stoically. She leaned in close to the chamber, tapping the side of it before sliding it closed with her finger. “If you have to keep her in darkness, then it’s my job to lift her out of it.”
Speck had dreamed of whispered words, of doctors, treatments, panicked looks, the world turning dark. Then a new angle. She wasn’t there anymore. She melted, slipping away like dew from the grass. All that remained was Miss. When she woke up, she was in darkness, and she was wet.
She felt herself up again, wondering how tiny she was now, wondering how long it would be before she was gone altogether, a part of her lover, lifted into the perfect body of Miss Goddess.