“You like that little man?”
She taunted blithely, a forced snigger catching in her throat as she steadily lowered her toe toward the improvised asphalt, but stalled upon hearing herself, breaking character for the umpteenth time.
“Urgh no that was...Oi! The fuck are you going!”
The little man scarpering out from underfoot clearly did not like that.
Crouching, she growled in exasperation. It’d been a long day off already, gathering everything she needed, crafting and assembling it all, explaining why she wanted so many tinies. She didn’t need this on top of her own self-conscious stumbling.
As her shadow engulfed his entire vicinity, it became shudderingly obvious that he was going precisely nowhere, but she was careful not to crush him as she pinched him up between fingers sporting nails several times his size, to greet a face hundreds of times his size. Keeping her foot in position, she fiddled with the focus on the tripod-mounted camera, her eyes - eyes he could literally drown in, eyes that could blink him out of existence - flitting back and forth as she explained the scene to him.
“Look, you’re gonna die ok. That’s gonna happen. All I want you to do is just lie back and look scared - shouldn’t be too difficult - scream, maybe try and fend me off with your arms, then I’ll come straight down real fast. You probably won’t even feel a thing. If you can’t manage that, we can try another idea: the one where I pulp your legs and leave you crawling away. That won’t be quick. Capisce? Good.”
It wasn’t a conversation. She felt embarrassed really, rather like she was talking to herself, and she certainly didn’t wait for a response before slipping him back beneath her big toe and straightening up for take two.
Closing her eyes, she focused purely on the sensation, waiting to feel that tiny tickle of resistance before she knew it was time to snuff it out. Down, down she went, feeling nothing whatsoever until her toe touched the floor. She looked down.
“Oh you little fucking shit!”
No sooner than she said it, the heedless fugitive became a fountain of blood, buried beneath a sole that sent cracks radiating across the marzipan surface, and set the whole city trembling. Struggling to unclench her fists and teeth, she consulted with herself, as she’d been doing for much of the afternoon.
“Alright then, let’s try something else.”
Harnessing her frustration, she shouldered the camera, angling it down the length of her body, then began marching. Her feet fell one after the other, shepherding tinies down streets lined with cardboard buildings, bowling them over with the brunt of one foot’s impact before bursting them beneath the next.
She wore a vindictive grin, the seemingly rampant destruction and their helpless flight being comical enough that her laughter came naturally. So much so that she couldn’t help but top it off with an exaggerated roar here and there, punctuating her steps and stomps.
They were actually easier to manage in groups, and it was kind of cathartic to be able to let loose. Soon she amassed a sizeable crowd, proud of how she managed to fence them in, casually toppling a structure with her toe before settling her heel demonstratively alongside the other, boxing off both ends of the street with a resolute thud.
Looking smug as anything, she couldn’t help but gloat, flipping the camera to leer down at the lens.
“You aren’t going anywhere.”
* * *
It still wasn’t dark, so he was surprised to see the curtains drawn as he pulled into the drive. Turning the key quietly, he stepped inside and cocked an ear, overhearing her distorted voice, “Shit!”, then, “Oh for fuck’s sake!” He followed, peering curiously around the door. There he stood, slack-jawed as he witnessed her side-on, stark naked, towering over a tiny urban sprawl, a long string of spit stubbornly stretching from her lips. Another, “Fucking hell!” when it finally broke, before she dropped to all fours.
“Dodge this then you little pricks!”
After she unleashed the pointblank volley, the voyeur realised he ought to announce his presence, managing a dry-throated cough. She gasped, tensing and clutching her chest before - with more relief than disappointment - realising it was him.
“Jesus, I thought…”
“Not as late as I expected.”
He finished flatly, baffled by the concept of ordinary conversation at that point, barely understanding everything he was feeling.
“You did all this?”
His roving eyes and breathy voice betrayed his disbelief.
“Well I guess it’s not so much of one anymore, but...surprise!”
She stood and approached him as she spoke, disregarding all that flattened beneath her tread, then hooked her arms around his neck. It was all he could do to embrace and kiss her; the only coherent translation of his affections. She received them well. She knew what it meant.
“Ba…”
A finger on his lips and a satisfied smile told him to shut up.
“Clothes off. Keep the tie.”
She gave it a playful flick, before retracing her steps. By the short time he’d complied, she beckoned him over and slapped a camera in his hands.
“Lie down.”
Obeying again, he first felt some boxes break against his butt, then faint freckles of wet warmth. Soon the same for his back. He might’ve had time to enjoy them, if he weren’t so utterly in the thrall of the woman straddling his chest, now spilling a sodden handful of tinies before her naked sex.
“Don’t just stare then.”
She chastised sweetly, elevating his camera-bearing arm, not so secretly jubilant about his entrancement.
“That goes double for you, insects!”
She chided again, all sweetness absent, her voice ominous and severe. Reaching behind herself, she tugged smoothly upon his tie, the silk gliding against her nethers, reeling the majority in towards her.
“Worship me!”
Spreading her legs, she tilted her pelvis forwards, but the paralysed mites still missed the message.
“I said…”
She began low and menacing, hovering a capricious finger and creating a couple of red splotches before harnessing the full force of her booming voice.
“Worship me!”
Suddenly, they became animated. Many rushed to lavish such physical adulation as they could merit upon the fearsome monument of flesh and fur, while others quivered in its shadow, dropping to their knees, dubious that physical worship could hold any significance.
They were of course correct, proven so as the next increasingly uncomfortable minutes unfolded.
She was dry as a bone. He could tell she was trying to force it as her fingers played across her limp lips, and she moaned like a woman in love but not in lust. They both realised the anticlimactic moment had to be coming, but neither quite how it could or should manifest.
He couldn’t say anything. It had to be her move. The first tear forced her hand.
“I’m sorry, this isn’t working.”
She stated plainly, sitting back and covering her face, evidently hiding a flood of tears.
“Hey hey…”
He consoled, immediately settling behind her and slinging his arms around her front. He kissed her neck, knowing not to force her to talk, to reveal herself, but continued holding her, his head resting against hers until she was ready.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
She sobbed.
“Oh my god don’t you dare! It’s totally fine, you’ve nothing to apologise for. Far from it. I still can’t believe you did all this!”
He smiled adoringly, stroking away a tear, but she was unreceptive. They both knew the territory.
“It’s not fine. It’s not ok. I want to be into this, for you. I don’t want you to have to get your kicks elsewhere, but it’s not even that I…I just want to make you happy. I want to be everything you need, but I...”
She welled up again silently, suppressing any sound. He followed suit, swallowing a lump.
“You do make me happy. So incredibly happy, you…”
He composed himself, feeling his gut twist.
“I’m meant to lie to you here. Tell you it doesn’t matter to me at all, that I can ignore it. I won’t do that. It is a part of me. A small one, but it’s there. Sometimes I wish it wasn’t. But I can’t...I don’t expect you...”
He sighed, running out of words.
“I know…”
She nodded, twisting her head as she forced a sympathetic smile through her tears, clasping his hand in her lap, stroking and squeezing affirmatively.
“It’s not your fault.”
The words came without effort, sincere though sad.
“And it’s not yours.”
He returned the affirmation, pressing his lips to her salty cheek and clearing the teartrack’s remainder with a finger.
A silence ensued. For all their emotional togetherness, they’d got nowhere.
Luckily, as an experienced imbecile, he knew exactly what to do about it.
“I need love, love, to ease my mind…”
“What are you…?”
“I need to find, find…”
He continued on, rocking them as he went. Against all her better faculties, she began to smile.
“You really can’t sing”
“I know.”
He snuck in swiftly between unmusical lines.
“You’re an idiot! And how can you be getting…”
He finally stopped singing.
“What? I need an excuse for that when my body’s pressed up tight against a beautiful, sexy, naked woman?”
“Idiot.”
She reaffirmed over her shoulder, nevertheless rewarding him with an impassioned kiss.
“Besides, your arse probably just flattened about a hundred tinies, and I swear I saw some get wrecked by a tear, and you didn’t even realise, you know that’s…oof”
Stopping him short with an elbow jab, she sighed and rolled her dewy eyes, but his misplaced sense of charm wasn't nearly sufficient to snuff out the rekindling luster behind their liquid gloss.
“Alright. Go on then, while we’re here, sell it to me. What do you see in these specks?”
Idly swirling a finger through those amassed between her thighs, she pondered the thought for herself whilst pressing back up into him, rocking gently against the semi-on straining against the small of her back, slipping in and out of the groove between her buttocks. What it meant to her, could do for her physically, emotionally; all of them against even that alone, was no contest. Not even close.
“It’s not really about them, it’s about...look…”
His eyes turned down, squinting as he scanned the scampering specks. After picking up and flicking away a few unsatisfactory pairs, he settled upon a man and a woman, pinching them by their arms and dangling them before his lover’s gaze.
“He’s cute right?”
“I guess.”
She scrunched her face, trying to make out.
“And just for that reason, just because it might bring you a moment’s pleasure.”
He lowered his hand, tracing the male tiny in circles over her breast, before pinning and finally popping him upon her nipple.
“Sorry. Nope, nothing. They’re still just tinies.”
She shrugged, faintly apologetic.
“OK, so you won’t mind if…”
Bringing the female tiny back around towards himself, he didn’t get far before she caught his wrist and stopped him dead.
“Nuh-uh…”
The thumb and forefinger of her other hand swiftly surrounded the furious widow, heedlessly silencing her vitriolic obscenities before reducing her to another slick smear, indistinguishable from the one adorning her still flaccid nipple.
“...You’ll think only of me.”
Turning to fix her gaze firmly upon the gawking, gaping face behind her, she let the instruction hang for a moment before lunging to lock lips in a deeper, more insistent manner. His member responded in the only way possible, and she smiled knowingly throughout the kiss.
“And I’m not wasting that. Bed. Now.”
They made eyes. He simply nodded and rose with her.
“At least your tiny, pathetic, insignificant lives amounted to something of worth.”
She magnanimously flattered the denizens below, whilst clasping his cock.
“I’ll make sure it gets put to good use.”
Seizing his tie, she slung it over her shoulder and led him off upstairs.