Minors DNI She/her/23 Welcome to my kink blog. I’ll mainly be writing my own and re blogging NSFW G/t stuffs. Don’t be afraid to send RP asks and requests! Like what you see? Support me here!
https://ko-fi.com/highslothwrites
Welcome to my kink blog! This is the last warning for anyone not 18+ to skedaddle or be blocked. You have been warned :)
Anyway, feel free to call me Jazz! I am 23, bi, and use she/her pronouns; a pretty plain Jane at 5’3 with brown hair/eyes who’s always felt 4in at heart. I’ve been a long time lurker of the macro/micro and G/t community and have finally gained the courage to create my own blog!
This is really for my own self indulgence, so if there is something you don’t like, please leave.
My main interests include:
Shrinking
Unaware
Underwear entrapment
Humiliation
Crushing of any kind
Noncon
Mouthplay
Cock vore (to an extent)
Vaginal insertion
Honestly, anything that includes a giant dominating a tiny will get me going
Some things I’m not into:
Extreme sweat/smells-mentioning in passing is fine, so long as it’s not a main focus.
No toilet stuff
No family/incest
NOTHING INVOLVING CHILDREN IN A SEXUAL MANNER
While this blog is mainly to post my own writing, I have been wanting to slip back into the RP scene a bit. SFW or NSFW doesn’t matter to me, so long as I can build a story with someone. That said, I will not just RP with anyone. Shoot me some asks or a DM to start chatting! If I feel like we’re a match, we can discuss plot.
I much prefer to create OC’s, but for NSFW specifics I don’t mind using characters from a few fandoms (MCU, Supernatural, The Boys)
All I ask of my RP partners is that you remain respectful, communicative, write minimum ONE paragraph (with decent grammar please!) and be at least 20 years old.
That’s all for now. Let the horny posting continue
The hand moved quickly; Sam realized to late what Buck meant to do and made a last ditch effort to postpone his fate by struggling against his grip and pinching the skin between the fingers. With his free hand Bucky had pulled open the waistband of both his jeans and briefs, and now pinched Sam so that he dangled over the dark expanse.
"Careful there buddy, you might hurt yourself," Buck grinned when Sam flailed harder, his tease causing the man to shout loudly. This time, he was ignored, the hand lowering slightly; Sam was assassulted by the scent of musk and sweat. "See this? This is where you two are going to be all day," their captor purred. This caused Sam to still. "Thats right. All day."
I wonder if I should just put a couple of bandaids over you instead. That way I won't have to worry about you slipping away by accident when I finally have to remove the socks holding you in place.
Momentarily forget about you as I wander the house, only remembering when I feel your squirming tickle and squish my thighs for a moment before going about the rest of my day before laying in bed.
Where you think you'd finally be set free. Instead, you're just used as a little toy again as I get off just by rubbing your body between my thighs at how powerless you are
mmmmmh yea…
stuck in place, no chance of escape all day, just pressed tightly between your thighs as you go about your day and forget my presence. not even remembering at first when you get home. waiting to be taken out but you just keep on doing whatever you’re doing unaware of the little form tucked away between your legs. thrashing and writhing to try and get your attention. and i do! only to be rewarded with my prison squeezing in, squishing me between your thighs and savoring my renewed struggles.
you don’t acknowledge me again until finally you lie down in bed and i sigh with relief at the torture being over at last. but of course it isn’t. how could i think you wouldn’t play with a cute little toy like me? especially one that’s been teasing you all day. i have a long night ahead of me…
Description: Olivia, a four inch tall woman awakes late at night to find her human girlfriend, Lana, still hard at work on the computer. In her attempts to convince the human to go to bed, Olivia offers up a game.
Warnings: Mild first chapter. F/f pairing, mention of masturbation/sex.
Word count: 804
Lana set aside her glasses with a tired sigh, raising her hands to rub at her eyes. When she opened them again the computers glaring light burned, and she groaned. Squinting one eye open she spotted the time in the bottom corner, 3am. Her eyes trailed up to the open document-one more hour wouldn’t hurt. Returning the glasses to her nose Lana lifted her hands to the keyboard and went back to work.
Not twenty minutes went by before a small shadow moved beneath the monitor, her typing coming to a halt. “Why are you still awake?” Olivia stepped into the light, stopping just before the keys. Her short hair was a ruffled mess, and Lana leaned down slightly to get a closer look at the four inch tall woman.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” She asked softly. It was faint, but she imagined she could just make out a smile in the shadow of Olivia’s face. Suddenly overcome with the need to be closer, Lana scooped her up in her hands, smiling at the surprised laugh as Olivia laid back in her palm. “You did, but I don’t mind,” tiny hands reached to hold Lana’s face as she pressed her lips over her legs, stomach, then face.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, pulling back. “Look, thirty more minutes and I’ll be there-“ Olivia scoffed.
“Uh huh, I’ve heard that before. Get up, or I’m turning this off,” she made to move out of her palm but was easily pinned by Lana’s thumb. Olivia glared up in challenge, “what are you doing anyway?” The soft pad of the giant thumb gently ran along the length of her bare legs; Lana smiled upon noticing Olivia was wearing a shirt she’d bought for her. It was simple with the logo of her favorite band and hung down almost to her knees, just the way she liked it.
As Lana’s thumb trailed back up she caught the edge of the tiny woman’s shirt and found herself wondering what panties she was wearing tonight-oh how she itched to see. But she couldn’t, not now. There was work to be done. “Something that should have been done days ago,” she admitted finally. She gently placed Olivia on the desk, “thirty more minutes, I promise.”
Lana refocused on the screen, her hands moving slowly at first as she began typing again. She ignored Olivia’s presence-if she wanted to hang around Lana wouldn’t stop her-but she was determined to keep her word. Thirty minutes, no more, no less.
Olivia had other plans, and she knew just what to say to catch her attention. “Want to play a game?” She asked suddenly. Lana paused, brows furrowing. “Does it include preventing me from working? Or trying to get me to bed?”
“You don’t have to stop working, but I am trying to get you to bed.” If the lighting were better Lana would clearly be able to see the mischievous grin on the other woman’s face. Still, she listened curiously. “I’m going to play with you-“ that was not what she expected, “get you off, that is. However, so long as you’re sitting here working, you’re not allowed to touch.”
Heat rushed to Lana’s face at the abruptness of Olivia’s claim; she let out a short, disbelieving laugh, but already there was a warmth forming at her center. “And how exactly is that supposed to get me into bed?”
“Because, the rule is, if you want to touch or take matters into your own hands, you must do so in the bed. Otherwise you lose.” Lana smirked, leaning forward to loom over the tiny woman. “And if I take you right here anyway?” Her voice dropped to a whisper; Lana was so close now her breath ruffled Olivia’s hair. Yet she stood firm, holding her eyes. “Then I’ve still prevented you from working.” The smug tone sent Lana sitting upright, “fine. You’ve got yourself a deal. Thirty minutes, right? That’s how long you have to get me out of this chair.” She missed the triumphant look on Olivia’s face, focusing instead on slipping off her shorts, leaving the panties on. She offered a hand and lowered the woman between her legs.
Olivia was quick to find her footing on the soft cushion, Lana’s thighs rising like walls on either side of her.
“Remember, no touching, or we go to bed,” she reminded.
“Sure, sure,” Lana shrugged. “I remember. Goodluck.” Without warning she adjusted, pulling the seat beneath the desk. Olivia was jostled by the movement and caught herself on Lana’s thigh. She would have glared up at the larger woman, but her sky now consisted of the bottom of the desk.
Thirty minutes. Olivia smirked-that was more than enough time. The sound of fingers on keys resumed and she set to work.
Description: Olivia, a four inch tall woman awakes late at night to find her human girlfriend, Lana, still hard at work on the computer. In her attempts to convince the human to go to bed, Olivia offers up a game.
“Because, the rule is, if you want to touch or take matters into your own hands, you must do so in the bed. Otherwise you lose.” Lana smirked, leaning forward to loom over the tiny woman. “And if I take you right here anyway?” Her voice dropped to a whisper; Lana was so close now her breath ruffled Olivia’s hair. Yet she stood firm, holding her eyes. “Then I’ve still prevented you from working.”
Small bit of something I’ll be posting tomorrow that I’m kind of excited about
Started playing Cult of the Lamb recently and was thinking about how nice it would be to have a tiny s/o hanging around. Wandering the desk, resting on your shoulder/chest, or getting cozy on your thighs
Takes place in a ring where tinies have to fight for their survival.
▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱
Noah panted, sweat was dripping from his brow. He leapt back, the other man’s fist whizzing by his ear. He took the opportunity and swung, his fist catching the back of his head and sending him to the ground.
Without hesitation he landed a kick into his ribs, he pulled back to take another swing. The man narrowly rolled out of the way, Noah jumped out of the way as the man tried to sweep him off his feet. The fight was far from professional, scrappy. Just trying to stay alive. Blood pumped in his ears. It seemed to quiet the noise around him.
The shouts, cheers, heckling. It all faded to white noise as he listened to his heartbeat.
He licked the sweat off his upper lip.
Just stay alive.
Noah watched the other man rise to his feet, he could see him glancing to the audience above them. When he met his eyes he saw fear.
If he were a different person he would surrender right there, give himself up. The man he was fighting was a kid, probably only eighteen. He was scared and weak, he wasn’t cut out for this. If he were a different person he would drop his fists and let the kid take a swing at him; drop to his knees and let himself lose.
But Noah wasn’t that person. He stepped forward and swung, his knuckles met the man’s face with enough force to drop him to the floor. Blood sprayed from his lips and Noah was sure he’d knocked at least one tooth loose.
He kept a foot on the man’s back as the giants around them counted down.
The kid barely fought him, only a weak squirm before falling still. Based on the way his shoulders shook Noah knew he was crying.
“-Three! Two! One!” The giants above them erupted in cheers. Noah stepped off of his back as the men celebrated, finally able to breathe. He felt the droplets of beer splatter around him as the rowdy men slammed their hands on the table above him.
The ring was a converted poker table, the velveteen replaced with vinyl covered ply-wood. It was in the center of a high-profile bar. Where men would drink, place bets, and watch tiny fights.
Noah realized his brow had split open, he blinked blood from his eye and wiped his hand over the wound. A massive hand curled around his body and hoisted him into the air. His owner pressed a wet kiss to the side of his face. He was an old, fat, pervert who bought him after watching Noah win his very first match.
“He doesn’t lose! I’m tellin’ ya!” The man cackled, letting a puff of cigar smoke wash over him.
Noah glanced down at the ring, watching the bartender pluck the loser off the ground. He didn’t fight it. He watched the tiny get dropped into a glass, Macallan was poured over him, causing the man to sputter and swim as it filled the glass.
The men around the table stopped their cheering to watch a man, a bidder, grab the glass.
Noah wished he could avert his eyes. But he had done this, he sent that kid to his fate. He couldn’t look away now.
His stomach turned as the man tossed the shot back, the tiny loser disappearing into his mouth. Noah saw his adam’s apple bob and he turned to the crowd, opening his mouth wide to show that he’d been swallowed.
Earsplitting cheers exploded around him.
Noah’s attention snapped back to his owner as a rag ran over his face and down his chest. “Two more matches, don’t fuck me over.” The man hissed, his breath washed over him. It reeked of cigars and whiskey.
He was roughly dropped into the ring. He took a few deep breaths, he shook out his shoulders and rubbed his hands down his face. “Okay, okay…” He breathed to himself. “Just two more…” He slapped his back and shook his head, trying to get himself in the game.
Noah watched the next man get dumped into the ring. He’d seen him before. He was a good fighter, he knew that. The men around them knew that. They wanted a good fight. He could feel the anticipation in the air.
They both stepped up, circling each other silently. The other man swung first, Noah ducked and landed a jab directly below his ribs. He gasped as the man’s knee came up and collided with his chin.
Noah fell back with a gasp, his head spun. He leapt to his feet before the man could pounce on him. He stepped back to pull himself together; he spat the blood from his mouth and shook the pain off the best he could.
The other man ran at him with a ferocity he hadn’t been expecting. He had to have been juicing, there was no way. He wondered what kind of drugs the men had given him. He had this crazed look in his bloodshot eyes. There was no fear there, he came to win.
Noah swung hard and attempted to keep up with his pace. He worried his exhaustion was showing. He had been a fighter for nearly a year, he had lasted much longer than most. He was a good fighter, but he was getting weak. Growing tired of the ring. He knew he didn’t have much time left.
He wished he could quiet his brain as he blocked the rapidfire punches from the other man. He raised his arm to cover his face, but crumbled as the man kicked him hard in his side. “Fuck!” He cried.
He was slammed to the ground and the man pinned him down, knees on his wrists. Noah squeezed his eyes shut as the man began delivering punch after punch. He wasn’t slowing down although it was clear that Noah was not going to be able to get up after this.
The crowd around them pulsated with energy: cries and shouts. Finally after one finishing punch that left his head spinning the other man was lifted off of him.
Noah panted and his head lolled to the side, his nose was surely broken. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, his lip. He looked to his owner who wore a mean scowl. “Fuckin’ piece of shit, maggot.” He spat. “Knew he wouldn’t last.”
He was lifted out of the ring by the bartender, his ribs ached, hell his whole body ached. He winced. He was dropped onto a small table; a bright light illuminated him from above. He pushed himself up and grit his teeth. He did his best not to look scared, he knew it’s what the giants wanted from him.
“Bidding starts at $300!” The auctioneer yelled above him.
Noah lifted his head, wiping the blood from his mouth as he looked out at the crowd of giants. One man in the front was feverishly jerking off, he licked his lips as Noah met his eyes.
He looked past him. Monsters, all of them.
At least it will be over, no more fighting, no more giants. Just quiet… The nothingness of death had been calling him for months now.
Noah dissociated, his gaze lingering above the heads of the men as the numbers went up, finally reaching $600.
“$600! Going once! Going-”
“$650!” This voice was new, Noah glanced at the crowd, eyes landing on an older man in the back, his hand high. He didn’t recognize him, he surely wasn’t a regular.
A few murmurs. “$700!” The prior bidder countered, shooting a glare at the other man. This one Noah knew, he has a specialty seat beside the ring. He took pleasure in buying the loser. Sucking on them during the next match, jerking himself off as he battered them in his mouth before swallowing them down as he came. He remembered hearing his grunts as he jacked off during their fights.
“$800.” The other man countered.
The other bidder was scowling and silent. “$800… Going once… Going twice… Sold!” The auctioneer scooped Noah up and handed him off to the bartender.
Noah winched as he was dumped into a chilled glass; larger than a shot glass so he wouldn’t be able to climb out. His hands slid down the side of the frosted glass. “F-Fuck.” He whispered to himself. He leaned back, his head pressing to the glass. He forced himself to breathe, his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest.
“Is whiskey okay? We keep top of the line for our buyers.” The bartender told the bidder.
Noah barely registered the man’s response before the liquor was poured over his head. He sputtered and choked as he was waterboarded by the whiskey. He twisted his head to the side, his eyes stung, his wounds burned, and the smell was overpowering.
He choked and quickly blinked his eyes clear of liquor. He didn’t have any time to gather his bearings before the glass was lifted off the counter.
His head was dunked into the whiskey as the glass was raised. He could hear the men in the bar cheering.
Noah watched in horror as the glass was brought to the man’s lips, slowly tilting Noah forward. He’d imagined this scenario in his head millions of times in an attempt to prepare for it. But this… This was unimaginable. Noah fell back and tried to push himself away from the mouth that began to drain the glass.
“F-Fuck…” He whimpered, his voice reverberated around him. He sounded so helpless. So small. He winced as the glass was tipped higher and higher.
His hands and feet kept slipping, he knew he was prolonging his fate. A sob hiccuped out of him. He let out a cry as he slid down, helplessly pawing at the slick glass. He dropped straight into the man’s mouth.
The first thing he registered was the heat.
This unbelievable, sticky, humid warmth all around him. Within seconds he was drenched in saliva, head to toe. He choked on a sob as the teeth clicked shut in front of him. The tongue was pillowy and uneven; he sank into it as he tried to get to his hands and knees. He could feel the massive appendage exploring his body, the taste buds trailing along his abdomen, his neck and his face; drinking the salt and blood off of him. It was all encompassing.
He sobbed and prayed for it to be over. He was terrified, he knew the worst was yet to come, the acid… The digestion… He prayed it would be quick, but deep down he knew it wouldn’t be. Outside of the man’s mouth he could hear the muffled cheering. These men celebrated his loss, and chanted for his fate.
He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping as the tongue crushed him against the rigged roof of his mouth. He gasped at sudden suction, the already limited space seeming to squeeze him even tighter. All of the saliva and whiskey around him was swallowed down his massive throat… But he still remained.
He let out a cry as the tongue pulled away, dropping him to the floor of his mouth. It squished around him, he tried to scream but only got a mouthful of the man’s saliva. The giant’s tongue came down over him, tucking him into the plush flesh under his tongue.
Noah heard the man’s mouth open, a loud “Ahhh!” reverberated around him. He winced and clapped his hands over his ears. Then came the cheers. For a moment Noah sat paralyzed, horrified.
The mouth clicked shut once more. He had just pretended to swallow him.
Tears melted with saliva as Noah realized he wasn’t yet done. Exhaustion and pain took over and he passed out under the man’s tongue.
Noah was silent as he watched Spike wrap his bloodied knuckles. The man was old, face marred with scars from fights from years prior. He was retired but kept around to train, he kept the fighters in line.
“You did good.” Spike’s voice was gruff, aged.
“I killed him.” He whispered, his voice sounded so small it nearly surprised him. He felt so empty, so hollow.
Going from the roaring bar to the silence in the back felt like whiplash. His ears were still ringing from the chants. They sat on the floor of a cage, it was old. The wire was rusted and the only thing to cushion the metal flooring was old, stained rags.
“It was either gonna be you or him. It’s a dog eat dog world out there.” The man told him with a shrug. “You gotta watch your back, kid. Just keep your head above water, y’hear me?” His hand clapped against Noah’s shoulder.
The touch was all it took for Noah to break. It was uncontrollable, heavy sobs wracked his body. He remembered the excitement, the relief that washed over him as he won… Then they grabbed the other fighter. A young kid, Noah caught his eyes and was met with sheer terror. He watched as the loser was pawned off.
He looked around in confusion at the chants, his stomach sank to the floor as the boy was deposited into a shot glass. He wished he could cry out or stand, or even look away. But he found himself entirely unable to move as the other fighter was swallowed by the buyer. Noah was a monster, he couldn’t believe what he had done. He had killed him.
Spike hesitated before wrapping his arms around him, patting his back as Noah sobbed against him. He felt his tears soaking into the man’s shirt. “You’re gonna be alright, kid.” The man’s voice echoed through him.
Noah wondered how many fighters he had told that too. He’d sent so many boys to their deaths. He wondered if his conscience was eating at him too. He sniffled and pulled away; he quickly wiped his eyes and tried to catch his breath.
Spike sighed. He grabbed his jaw, forcing him to meet his eyes. Noah gasped in surprise, frozen under the tight grip. He stared with wide, watery eyes. “Listen to me…” The elder murmured, “Don’t ever do this shit again. Never let them see you break, it’s a weakness. You understand? They’ll chew you up and spit you out, you hear me?” His words were harsh, unforgiving. He needed him to hear them, remember them.
Noah grit his teeth to keep his bottom lip from wobbling, he swallowed thickly and nodded. “Y-Yessir.” Spike searched his face one more time before dropping his chin.
Noah swallowed the lump in his throat and bit his bottom lip that trembled relentlessly. He watched Spike finish wrapping his bloodied knuckles.
Noah awoke to a loud beeping on his right. He winced as the pain hit him at once. His whole body ached. His memory came back to him in waves, the fight, the loss, the man… The mouth…
Noah’s eyes snapped open and was immediately bombarded by the harsh fluorescent lights above him. He winced and went to cover his face, only to be met with a tightness in his arm. He dropped his gaze, eyes widening as he saw the needle.
He instinctively went to rip it out, his hands trembling as he struggled to find grip on the IV. “Woah! Hey!” Hands came down on him. Two thumbs planted themselves onto each of his shoulders, pinning him to the oversized bed.
Noah choked on a cry, squirming and fighting the oppressive pressure with all his might. “G-Get off of me!” He cried. He thrashed and looked up, freezing as he realized it was the man from the bar. The bidder. Confusion washed over him and he felt his throat tightening; he struggled to breathe as the man kept him down.
“You’re okay.” The man’s voice was surprisingly soft. Noah flinched and panted. His heart rate was pounding but his adrenaline was quickly diminishing. His body ached, he felt unbelievably weak.
“F-Fuck…” Noah whispered breathlessly, falling back against the hospital bed. The man’s hands hesitantly retreated. He stared up at the fluorescent lights with watery eyes, avoiding the giant peering down at him. “What are they… What are they gonna do to me?” His voice was weak.
The human shifted forward to hear him, leaning his elbows on his haunches. “You’re injured… You have fractures that have gone untreated for months, and you’re concussed.” The man’s voice was surprisingly soft.
Noah lifted his chin to meet his eyes. He didn’t look angry or smug… He looked exhausted and almost… guilty? Which honestly Noah found infuriating. He wore these glasses; thick clear lenses that seemed to age him. Surely he was older than him, probably in his late forties. His eyes were blue and glassy, he clearly hadn’t slept since they’d left the bar. God what time was it? He felt so disoriented.
Noah scowled at him. “Yeah, got the shit beat out of me.” He muttered. “You didn’t…” He trailed off, his brows knitting together as a wooziness fell over him. He wondered if they’d drugged him or if it was just the concussion. Last night was hazy, trying to remember was difficult, distant, and painful. He grit his teeth. He swam through his thoughts, trying to reach what his mind was trying to shut out.
“Hm?” The man hummed, leaning a bit closer to catch his words.
“You didn’t eat me… Didn’t kill me… You were, you were supposed to…” He winced and tears welled in his eyes as he looked up at the massive face in front of him.
The man blinked in surprise, “No, I didn’t. I-“
Anger washed over him before Noah could subdue it. “You were supposed to! This isn’t fair!” He shouted, tears flowed down his cheeks now. “I-I served my time! I fought! I-I fought! I lost! This was supposed to be it! I was supposed to be done!” He yelled, before his anger dissolved into a hiccuping sob. “I was supposed to be done…” He pressed his palms into his eyes, letting the tender flesh ache.
He thought of those men, the ones who’d been killed. The ones that he had killed. They didn’t get a second chance…
“I-I was supposed to be-” His voice cut off as he gagged, he shuddered and covered his mouth. Those boys, the fighters… All of them… His head lurched forward as vomited into his hand; fat tears welled along his waterline as he retched. Bile dripped through his trembling fingers as he fought for air.
He couldn’t breathe, no matter how much he gasped his lungs never fully expanded. A sob tore out of him, loud and violent.
“Jesus…” The voice above him rumbled. “I’m sorry, really I-”
“Fuck you!” He spat, “This wasn’t… This isn’t fair!” He shouted, his voice trembled.
Noah flinched as another human approached the bed. “Hey… Heard some yelling, looks like someone woke up, huh?” A nurse murmured, she clicked her tongue, “Poor thing.” She whispered.
Before he could move she easily pinned him under her hand and took a syringe. Noah squirmed and yelped as the pressure increased until he fell still. He panted, pale as he watched her insert the needle into the tube above him. She administered a dose into his IV before pulling away. “There we go.” She whispered, she turned to the man. “He should mellow out.”
It was almost instantaneous. He barely felt the woman’s hand lift off him. The nurse left as Noah sank into a slow, sticky high. Everything felt distant, fuzzy.
Noah licked his lips, his tongue felt fat in his mouth. “J-Just kill me, man…” He whispered weakly, his voice scratchy. “Just… Just end it…” He looked around the clinic. “They wouldn’t… They wouldn’t care.” He whispered weakly. His tone was pleading.
The man blinked in surprise before sighing softly, he rubbed his brow. “I’m not gonna do that.” He murmured.
Noah could hardly contain his dissatisfaction. He fell back against the bed, he was so fucking scared. Darkness bled into the sides of his vision. “F-Fuck you.” He managed to spit as his eyes fluttered shut and he fell into unconsciousness
realistically if i ever did find a tiny person i think i would just immediately suck them off. no hesitation whatsoever. regardless of circumstance, or how i found them or how they got small, I DONT CARE, i just need to do this one thing first! i need it!
Ugh. Currently obsessed with the idea of my giantess gf grinding me into her favorite pillow….
Lying there helpless as she closes her thighs around its softness, panties already damp. Any movement from me only urges her to go faster, hips rocking as she searches for the best spot to feel me.
Bonus points if she’s sleepy and unaware, spurred into action by my struggles when I realize I’m trapped. Her hips move almost lazily at first, increasing in speed as my attempts to free myself only serve to stimulate her more. Only for her to finish, resuming those slow, lazy motions she’d started with before settling down, pulling her pillow ever closer.
Or or or…sneaking down there to wake her up. There’s no trouble in positioning myself between her thighs, using my hands and whole body to massage her. The pillow traps me quickly, and before long she’s humping into it, into me, greedily, too tired and unaware to realize im down there. Soft moans and whimpers reach my ears, urging me to move faster.
Anyway…A question to all my giants out there; what would you do if you woke up to find me at your crotch after unknowingly getting off on my tiny body?
Raise your hand if you don’t mind drunk giants. The way they stumble into the room, eyes scraping every surface for your small form. The way they light up upon seeing you, strutting forward with uneven steps.
Unsure, you watch them curiously from where you lay on your pillow as they peel off their socks and shoes, sinking into the bed. Their head lands heavily on the pillow you’re on, and before you know it you’re tumbling head over heels, coming to a stop at their lips.
A mischievous smile adorns their features as your hands press against their cheek. The scent of alcohol washes over you as they let out a breathy laugh.
“I missed you.” Their whisper is a warm breeze over your body, instantly heating your cheeks.
“I missed you to,” is your quiet reply. There isn’t any time to wonder if they heard you before you’re smothered between those soft lips and the pillow you’d been resting on.
Love love looooooove somewhat careless drunk giants who just want to smother their tiny in love
I just wanna tuck you nice and snug into a garter or maybe some thigh high stockings. Press my thighs together when I feel you just inches from my panties and see how small you are! So cute!
Feel my thighs brushing against you when I walk or when I sit down and cross my legs.
mmmmm 😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫 right up against your inner thighs, so close to your crotch at times, picturing all the things that could happen if you moved me just a few inches up. knowing how much my presence is riling you up from the way you squeeze my little body between your thighs. nothing to do but squirm as you go about your day, jostling me as you walk, pressing me deeper into your flesh when you sit and cross your legs.
nothing but your cute little accessory. for now. until you decide you’d like to see how i do as your little toy. but until then all i can do is writhe around in suspense, no escape, no relief. just you and your legs becoming my entire world
God I wanna be pinned and ravishingly kissed by you until I fit in your palm and am getting sucked off by your giant gorgeous scary face hoping you don't swallow me... maybe just to be shoved into your clit and made to lick, grope, and grind on it while your pussy lips that are as big as I am are right next to me, hoping you don't like unbirthing and using tinies as sex toys in more creative ways,,, not that I wouldn't say yes
Read this on my lunch and ohhh my god, I'm very much jerking to this later
I want to feel you get smaller and smaller and have you fight to keep me from accidentally choking you with my tongue when it starts getting too big for your mouth. I may not be particularly into oral vore, but you're 100% getting put in my mouth the second I can fit you in there. I'll toy with you and fully take advantage of now being able to bully your entire being with my tongue. I'll work orgasm after orgasm out of you with the tip. And then when I'm bored and you're sufficiently soggy and fucked out, THEN I'll put you on my clit.
You weren't planning on not returning the favor, right? Good. Now good luck getting your footing with how wet I'll be down there. In fact, I'd love to see how you'd try to scramble for my thick clit before I just shove your face in it myself. All that squirming and whining would be soo cute, especially when I start using you as a stroker. And when you're fully spent? Well. You said it yourself, you wouldn't turn down being shoved in me. Not like it would be hard. You'd slip riiiight in, and if you want out, you would have to put in some effort to make it happen. Until you do, I'll slip on my boxers and go about my day. I don't imagine it will be a quick endeavor, and I got things to do. And you make for suuuch a good toy! In fact, I'd wager you would take your sweet time, wouldn't you? ...Just be sure to squirm a lot while you're still there :]
Oh to be trapped between a giants thighs….squirming and fighting to get out, only for them to release the pressure, allowing only a moment of reprieve before a finger shoves me into their crotch and squeeze their thighs together again….
super tall super strong guy who could physically outcompete me in pretty much every way if he wasn’t getting manhandled by my fingers as big as his entire body
