The Bottles of Al

The Bottles of Al

The Bottles of Al'Qazr

by Aborigen

Chapter Two: Mark's Party

Mark got out of his old car and walked up the sidewalk, thinking very hard about

something. A few birds still chirped in the late evening setting; businesses

were closed yet parking was scarce on this block due to the huge party being

held at his friends' house. There was no cause for celebration, just a

get-together with a bunch of people who liked to drink and dance.

He wore a pale green t-shirt and plaid vest. For security, the green and blue

bottles were slipped into his front jean pockets. These were not bottles of

alcohol, smaller than even airline sampler bottles. They were small,

colored-glass bottles with eye-droppers in them and a very specific purpose to

them. Mark had paid a lot for them and was intent on trying them out at this

party. They were not drugs, either, like the herbal ecstasy crap some of his

friends had tried to market a few years ago when the rave scene was under fire.

Each one held a magical fluid that complemented the other in a bizarre way: if

what he'd been told were true, and if his money was worth anything, the contents

of the blue bottle held a potion that would shrink its taker down to a

diminutive size, between four to six inches. The green bottle, likewise,

contained a potion that would restore a shrunken person to his formerly large

size.

This promised to be a magical night. Whether it would keep that promise remained

to be seen.

He recognized a few people immediately at the party and made his glad tidings to

them, blah blah blah. Someone pushed a drink into his hand and assured him he

had to try it, and he did, and it was quite nice. He knocked it back, however,

because he had another mission in mind, someone he had to find...

The crowd in the entryway surged and pushed him into the living room where one

of the house's tenants was playing CDs; people jumped and gyrated to the music,

waving drinks and cigarettes overhead - despite being relatively early in the

evening the party was already hitting a high and nearing critical mass. If it

didn't get busted, it could go on like this for hours. Mark was musing about how

he'd never heard of such a thing when the crowd surged again and someone shoved

into him. They were obviously pushed but their drink splashed upon his shoe and

he spun around angrily. "Jesus Christ, look where the-..." he started, halting

when he saw the perpetrator.

"I'm really sorry!" the young woman said, her eyes wide with surprise and alarm.

She happened to have a paper towel in her hand from trying to clean up another

mess, so before Mark could say anything she ducked down and sopped up the spill

hastily. "It really was an accident, the crowd just pushed me. Don't worry, it's

mostly water."

"Hey, it's okay, they're very rowdy." Mark felt very bad about feeling any

vehemence to this obviously considerate creature. He led her off into the

kitchen where relatively fewer people were hanging out - a couple die-hards

working at the blender and some giggly underage girls trying out the drinks they

made up on the spot, but that was it. Mark started her talking by thanking her

again. "You're very thoughtful, apparently. Do you live here?"

The girl smiled. "Nope, I'm just here partying like everyone else," she said

lamely. "I wish they'd take better care of their house, but no, I don't live

here." Her curly black hair was bobbed fetchingly and she wore an intriguing

black lace blouse with a short black skirt and purple-and-black striped tights

that ended in functional, unpretentious black boots, an interesting contrast to

the rest of the ensemble. When she noticed he was checking her out, she cleared

her throat loudly.

When he noticed he was checking her out, he blushed furiously and changed the

topic somewhat. "I'm looking for a friend of the people who live here."

"A friend of Scot and June's? Who?"

"Oh, you know them? I don't know if you'd know her," he shouted over the music.

"I don't know how else to describe her, but she's got spiky orange hair, a large

ass, and she's really bitchy."

The dark girl laughed out loud - musically, thought Mark. "I know exactly who

that is! That's Cari!" She laughed some more and got herself some more water

from the sink. "That's so funny that she can be described so simply! It's like

she's a cartoon character or something."

Mark also thought that was funny. "Hey, do you not drink or something? Isn't

this the second water you've had?"

She looked at her cup. "Yeah, I don't drink much. I had a couple shots of

Tequila Rose earlier, so I decided to chill for a couple hours. I'll have some

more around midnight, I'm sure."

"Religious reasons?"

"What?"

"Religious-... do you not drink because of your religion or something?"

She laughed. "Oh, no! I just don't like to get sloppy drunk," she said, and just

at that moment some burly jock ambled past and slipped in a drink someone had

spilled. When his meaty torso hit the linoleum the room thundered like a cannon

had hit it. From the floor the besotted reveler only howled and hooted about the

great party going on until his friends helped him up. His breath stank like

vomit, so it was likely he was on his way back from the bathroom. The girl

looked back at Mark. "Not that getting sloppy drunk isn't eminently attractive

and charming, of course."

Mark laughed very hard at that, charmed and impressed by this intelligent,

well-spoken young woman. "Hey, my name's Mark. What's yours?"

"Angie," she chirped, her eye twinkling. "But you're looking for your friend,

and I've got to step outside for a breath of fresh air, so... oh, there she is

now. Cari!" She called across the kitchen to the orange-haired virago just

entering from her turn at the bathroom. Angie hopped up and down to get her

attention; Mark noted she hardly made any noise at all, jumping on the floor

like that.

"Hey, Ange, what's... oh, you." Cari's tone went from false to flat when she

recognized Mark. "Well, I know what you're here for. Find me in an hour or

something like that, I'm here to party first." Without another word or glance

she wandered off into the crowd, her huge, round ass swaying back and forth with

each stride, until the churning mass of bodies engulfed her. Mark stared after

that ass until it disappeared from view, then turned to find Angie staring right

at him, one eyebrow raised and a petulant smirk creasing her lips.

Mark felt a little cold but didn't know why he suddenly felt he should justify

himself to this new girl. Changing the topic, he asked her, "'Ange'? Do you

prefer that?"

Angie's face grimaced. "I hate it," she said sourly, "but she doesn't listen to

whenever I correct her, so... whatever." She made off towards the front of the

house, pressing unenthusiastically into the press of sweaty bodies. "Maybe I'll

see you around, Mark."

"I hope so," he said quietly, waving listlessly at her. He had no idea what she

thought of him now, but he imagined it was quite dim. Upset, he made his way to

the dining room table where all the bottles were and mixed himself up something

hazardous, going into the living room to sulk on the couch.

The room was full of more dancers and drinkers, churning and heaving to the beat

of the music... more or less. The partiers were predominately white and did

their best to stay in time to the music, but now and then the music made them

slip out of beat. Mark amused himself by watching the breakdown of syncopation,

but eventually got caught up in the people themselves, mainly the women. The

room quickly grew hot and humid, despite attempts to open the windows and

install fans, and many of the women found relief in showing up in babydoll tees

(which Mark personally hated) or changing into shorts and going barefoot (which

he preferred). In fact, as he nursed his powerful alcoholic beverage, he

permitted himself to stare at the various women as they jumped around, bouncing

and heaving when they had something to heave and bounce. He even allowed himself

to lapse into his fantasy of being a shrunken man around normal-sized women.

Sometimes he was in the rear pocket of a pair of jean cutoffs, pressed against a

denim-clad buttock... sometimes he was in the panties, riding the crotch of the

shorts and being wedged up between the firm young cheeks of some heavily buzzed

undergrad chick. Sometimes he was nestled into the bra of a particularly

developed woman, and he tried to imagine the soft, tender skin of her breast

welling up and covering him as the bra cupped him neatly against it, as she

near-literally poured her breast into the bra cup and overwhelmed her with her

tremendous boob. And then she would dance, and he tried to imagine the sensation

of gravity growing stronger and heavier as her hot young body jumped and heaved

to the rhythm of the music, and her breast swelled and heaved against him. Would

his head be placed near her nipple? Would it grow harder against the side of his

head? He would most definitely be splayed spread-eagle against her breast... How

much would his limbs dig into her skin if he attempted to hug her tit?

And then, ultimately, he would inevitably fantasize about being a tiny little

man tasked with the impossible mission of crossing a room packed with barefoot

young women dancing all over the floor. He would start out underneath the couch,

he imagined as he sipped his drink, noticing how the ice cubes were starting to

dilute the booze. From under the couch he would stare across the landscape of

carpet - plush, in here - and at all the huge, tender paws of these women. Some

of them jumped up and down on the floor, and he imagined they would be

thunderous crashes to him as he approached hesitantly; some of them just danced

and swished their feet back and forth, and those would be difficult to dodge as

well. Not only would he have to dart beneath the tender soles of young women

momentarily aloft, rolling out from beneath those huge feet as they fell back to

earth toward him, maybe getting an arm or leg pinned beneath their flexing toes,

he also had to be on guard against a smooth, slender, shapely foot sliding right

into him. It might knock him on his back, or it could even just run right over

him. And possibly it would continue to glide over him, the dancer not even

noticing him as her feet planted on either side of him and he stared up into the

dark recesses of a giantess' skirt. Or possibly her foot would stop right on top

of him, and he would have to bear the weight of a woman dozens of yards tall

(from his perspective) until she decided to move. And who would know when that

might be! She could suddenly pause, he thought as he tossed back the rest of his

drink and crunched ice cubes, and hold a conversation with a girlfriend, never

knowing that her tremendous sole completely embedded a tiny man, and she was

mashing him into the carpet! No use trying to bang against her foot to alert

her, he couldn't move his arms! How much could he endure? How much time would he

have before the air in his crushed lungs ran out?

Suddenly an enormous black shape blotted his view, and he realized with alarm it

was a huge ass! Two huge, spherical buttocks in black stretch pants, stretching

them to capacity, wobbling into view and backing up into him! He was already

tiny, and a huge woman was about to sit on him! Too shocked to cry for help he

backed up ineffectually on the couch as the ass grew closer and closer, finally

grinding into his face...

Immediately the butt lifted up and away, and Cari awkwardly reached for the arm

of the couch to pull her upright again. "Oh, sorry about that," she laughed,

"someone pushed me into... oh, it's you." She smirked to herself, tumbling to

the couch beside him. "Bet you didn't mind that at all, huh?" Her laugh was

raucous and harsh, and Mark noticed she had a cigarette in hand.

"Yeah, it was magical," he grumbled. "Could you act a little less happy to see

me? I still feel some vestiges of self-esteem you've yet to shit on."

"Hey, dude, this was your idea." She took a long drag and blew it out for too

many seconds. "I'm totally like, whatever. This is your kink we're entertaining,

man, I don't owe you any favors."

He grew angry at her dismissiveness. "Well, fuck, maybe you'd like to find

something better to do, you know? If you're going to be a shit throughout the

whole thing, I'd rather not have you there. I'd rather do this with someone who

knew how to have a good time and get into the experience, not someone who's just

going to bitch and moan and snipe all night long, what the fuck."

Cari laughed at getting him all riled up. "Calm down there, studmuffin. I agreed

to go along with it and if you want, I can be Suzy Cheesecake through the whole

thing if that's what turns your crank."

He just stared ahead of him, unable to even enjoy the nubile dance crowd before

him.

"Come on, let's go do it now. It's not like you'll find anyone else to help you

out with this, huh? I mean, your kink and all." She grinned wolfishly, clearly

drunk, and leaned in close. "Your special little secret and all."

"Hey, back off," he said, feeling defensive. "I just shared that secret with you

about my fetish because..." He faltered, unable to come up with the one good

reason he knew he must've had for confiding in this shrike.

"'Cos you like my ass," she completed for him. "You like my huge ass, and your

little head did all the thinking for you when you thought it'd be a good idea to

tell me all about it." She laughed some more, leaning back and having another

drag of her cigarette before dropping the butt into someone else's drink. Mark

stared at her in surprise at her rudeness; she didn't seem to notice. "And to

tell you the truth, I'm really curious about it. I mean, fuck it, even if this

stuff doesn't work... maybe it's like liquid ecstasy and you can share some with

me, and I'll be all nice to you and stuff anyway. Wouldn't you like that?"

Mark hesitated, sensing himself drawn in but not knowing to where. "Yeah, that'd

would be nice, to be able to have a pleasant conversation with you for once,

instead of you making me feel like shit all the time." He touched the bottle in

his right pocket, hoping that it wasn't simply ecstasy for the amount he paid

for the stuff.

"Yeah, and maybe if you're real nice, I'll let you touch my bottom! Would you

like that? Would you like to touch my bottom?" She threw back her head and

cackled. She attempted to climb up out of the couch and nearly lost her balance.

To "help" her, Mark planted his hands on her ass and pushed upwards, getting two

big handfuls of her buttocks and setting her up on her own two feet. She sneered

at him, "Thanks for the lift, big guy. Come on and let's get on with this thing,

anyway." She lumbered out of the living room, barely managing to stay upright

past all the dancing people, and he followed after her, not knowing until rising

how strong his drink had been. He managed to weave his way out into the front

hallway and into one of the house's bedrooms. He didn't notice Angie peeking in

from the porch - she studied the mocking smirk on Cari's face and the downcast

gloom of Mark's expression, but said nothing.

"So," Cari said, once the door was closed behind them, "how do you want to do

this? You want me to strip down, or...?"

Deciding quickly that beating around the bush would get them nowhere, Mark

agreed. "Sure, just strip down on the bed now, rather than later, and... do you

mind if I tie you down with something?"

She laughed. "Oooh, kinky!" she said, which is what all boring people always say

when someone mentions tying someone else down. "Go for it, you big stu-u-u-ud.

If this stuff does what you say it does, you wouldn't want a big girl like me

crushing you like a grape!" She laughed harder and unbuckled her shoes, peeled

off her socks, and went to work on cinching out of her stretch pants while Mark

also undressed. He endured her mocking hoots and catcalls, just focusing on the

task at hand - getting shrunk with a willing participant. Particularly this one,

with an overlarge ass: Mark had a thing for large asses, and Cari's was an

exceptional specimen. While he did not kid himself that it must have bloated fat

cells that would make her bare ass look somewhat pockmarked, or "cottage

cheese"-like, as was the popular comparison, he was irresistibly drawn to the

size and shape of it in her black stretch pants which she generously wore for

the party.

If it hadn't been for the risqué nature of the last party - one which involved

several girls making out with a lot of alcohol and a video camera - he wouldn't

have dared approach Cari, someone he barely knew, with his idea. However, he

spotted a window of opportunity when she seized up a nearby action figure, at

that other party, calling it her "boyfriend" and grinding it into her crotch.

She never removed her clothes but was quite graphic as to what she would do with

a tiny man like that, so Mark took her aside and led a very pointed

conversation. Over the course of the next couple of weeks he took her out for

drinks on several occasions, spending a lot of money to get her loaded (at her

behest) until she understood the breadth of what he was asking of her and the

reality of his fantasy. It just so happened that she was single, relatively open

about sex, and was going through a horny streak during the last few outings to

the bar, so she agreed as long as he promised to get her off one way or another.

He readily agreed, his mind flooded with images of her copious lubrication,

swimming in her vulva... and now they were at zero hour, when all the action

would happen and fantasy would become reality.

All they found to tie her, though, was some kite string. They agreed it was

pretty pathetic, but Cari was sport enough to permit it and lay down on her

front as Mark lashed her wrists and ankles spread wide to the bedposts. On top

of the pile of his clothes Mark set down the green bottle of growth. "Are you

ready, Cari?" he asked, unscrewing the blue bottle.

"Ready as I'll ever be, lover," she smirked, grateful for the cool of the pillow

upon which she rested her head.

Nodding, Mark hastily gave himself a few drops of liquid, screwed the dropper

back into the bottle, tossed it down next to the other bottle, and scrambled

over to the bed. The potion instigated a very tingly sensation spreading from

his stomach through his bloodstream into all his limbs. The whole process took

about a minute: even in the little time it took to secure and drop the bottle

and make it over to the bed, Mark noticed a difference in his height: he had to

hoist a leg up to crawl onto the mattress, his small hands gripping Cari's large

calf to brace himself. She stared at him in amazement, cheering the success of

his purchase, as he ambled over her plump leg and kneeled between her thighs. He

stayed there and watched as her legs grew fatter and fatter, rising up around

him yet spreading in distance... Looking down, the weave of the blanket's fabric

became more distinct. Looking up, the ceiling flew away from him at an

incredible speed and seemed more like sky than anything else. Stucco sky.

Far beyond him, Cari's rosy heels poked upwards as the string held her ankles

more or less fast. He was no taller than her knee, he noticed with wonder, and

strove to control his racing heart as he stared up between her thighs into the

enticing crack of her ass, a deep crevice originating from twin mounts of huge

buttocks and leading down between her tender inner thighs into what now seemed

like a perilous, engulfing vulva, the opening of an intimidating, moist, and

endlessly deep vagina...

He was stunned. His fantasy was real. He was really small, and lying between the

thighs of a bitchy yet largely physically attractive young woman who was willing

to lend her gorgeous ass to him for an evening. What were the odds!

"Hey, Cari," he called up to her.

Her spiky orange head of hair - and he could see little else above her

prodigious ass - turned and she craned to look down at him. "Wow, man, I can

barely hear you... HA! Look at you!"

He stood up to make it easier for her, and leaned against her knee. It took his

breath away to even touch her at this size, and he could only stare at her inner

thigh ad the back of her knee as he yelled up to her. "How do I look?"

She cackled. "Good enough to eat, my man!" she said, smacking her lips and

making as if to snap out of the string bonds. His heart froze as he hadn't

considered the possibility, the very real possibility, that she might suddenly

not cooperate. "Kidding, kidding! I'm just tripping. You're all small and shit.

That's amazing."

He looked down at himself. He was still appropriately proportioned for himself,

but beside the leg of a goddess, he felt terribly inadequate and yet

supercharged-horny at the same time. "You wanna start now?" he called up to her.

She shrugged, and her huge, bare shoulders heaved to block out her face for a

moment. "Let's go ahead, man, it's your game." She rested her head against the

pillow again and let out a long breath. "Man, I better get something out of

it..."

"I appreciate you going along with this," he said, after the tingle of shrinking

down had worn off. The heat coming off her thighs was overpowering - her body

was quite warmed up from the alcohol and she was more than a little aroused -

not necessarily aroused towards him but horny in general. Her hips ground

reflexively into the mattress, tugging at the sheets and yanking them from

beneath his feet. He laughed nervously and stood shakily again.

The giantess (to him) looked over her broad shoulder and sneered down at him.

"The pleasure's all yours, I'm sure," she said. Her speech was a little slow and

her words a little slurry from the liquor. "There you are, standing in front of

the greatest ass of your life, probably got a little hard-on goin' on, and I'm

lying here tied up just barely and not gonna feel a damn thing. Well, whatever,

let's get it over with." She moaned and buried her face in the pillows, waggling

her hips invitingly.

At his size, the gyration of her hips was a massive quake and her buttocks,

already large at normal size, were tremendous fleshy hillsides in tumult. Mark

spread his legs to secure his stance while one enormous buttock raged against

another and the deep crack of her ass swayed to and fro before him. Far ahead in

the distance he heard her mocking laughter; her spiky orange hair rose above her

shoulders as she raised her head, and her laughter muffled into the pillows when

it fell again. "What's the matter, lover?" she asked, drunkenly snide. "A little

intimidated by more woman than you can handle? Come and get it, hot stuff."

Her taunting did nothing to reduce his arousal, and his tiny cock stood straight

out like an arrow towards the temple of lust before him. As the party raged on

outside the bedroom door he sidled over to her left thigh and placed a tiny palm

upon her skin. She mused aloud that she felt him doing something. Experimentally

he ran his hand back and forth against her skin and her huge thigh twitched and

bucked slightly, throwing him back a step. She sounded surprised to realize how

sensitive she was - "Maybe this won't be so one-sided after all," she muttered

darkly. Challenging her, he stepped forward, trailing his left hand along her

thigh, drew back his right arm and struck forth, plunging his diminutive fist

deep into her fleshy crevasse. He followed through until the innermost tuck of

her ass pressed against the side of his face and the right half of his chest was

absorbed between her cheeks. He heard a delighted shriek and cackling laughter

as he spread his fingers and squirmed around to feel exactly where he'd landed.

Judging by the sparse pubic hair just meeting his fingertips he estimated he'd

plunged just northern border of the perineum, the "taint," and her labia

stretched beyond. That would place her anus about a foot up from where he was,

he guessed...

Cari clenched her cheeks together, laughing riotously, and shook her body up and

down on the mattress, tantalized by the ticklish little sensation in her ass. In

so doing she seized upon Mark's arm entirely and yanked him up from the sheets

upon which he stood and flailed him helplessly against her inner thighs. She

shrieked and made comments about broncos and Spanish phrases gleaned from

Saturday morning cartoons, while his tiny body caromed off walls of cellulitic,

fake-baked flesh. A sticky dew of womanly sweat spread up his arm and over his

chest and back, adhering him to her buttocks and preventing him from falling to

the mattress.

"Cari!" he called up to her. "Knock it off, you have me trapped! You're - erk -

slamming me around!" He attempted to pull himself out of her ass, but only

succeeded in mashing his left fist deep into her left buttock, kinda like trying

to K.O. a bag of Jell-o. She must have heard his protestations, however, for her

laughter subsided to the giggles and her hips came to rest upon the mattress

once more. With a little effort she bent her knees and spread her thighs a

little wider, parting her buttocks long enough for him to peel his arm off her

skin and tumble to the bed. The string holding her ankles pulled taut but the

couple of loops held them fast yet.

He sat up and rubbed his arm, his bare feet a yard or two (to him) from the dark

tunnel formed by the mattress and her hips that slid down to her bushy nest of

moist pubic hair. He called up to her, "I take it you enjoy that, then?"

Again, one cruel eye poked up over her huge, smoothly curving shoulder, and her

voice marinated in sarcasm said, "Oh yeah, baby, more than you could possibly

imagine. Please stick your toothpick dick up my ass again and thrill me some

more!"

"That was my arm," he said, wounded, "not my dick. I shoved my arm up your ass

just to see how far it could go."

"Whoa, you are a little romancer, aren't you. What next, jam one of your legs

inside me? Gonna fuck me with your foot or something amazing like that?"

He grumbled to himself about doing just that, but instead set to task for what

he wanted her for in the first place. He scanned up the steep incline of her

buttocks, then over her thighs looking for a likely place to begin scaling her

ass. "You know, your attitude doesn't exactly make this any easier. Do you

always have to be such a bitch?" he asked, quite bluntly.

Her massive shoulders shrugged. "Hey man, why not?"

He stood up and leaned against the narrow little tuck of her buttocks down by

where he was while getting his footing again. He called up to her, "Because it

pisses people off! It makes people hate you, you begin to build up enemies,

people who want to fuck your life up. What makes you feel so good about making

people feel bad?" He cast his gaze about and decided the best way to start

climbing would be to press his back against one thigh and stretch his legs

against her other leg, and cinch his way up with his hand in the crack of her

ass for security.

She laughed, and her buttocks rumbled beside him; he froze in his tracks,

waiting for the quake to subside. She told him, "Why would I care who I piss

off? What're you gonna do? You're just this tiny little bug to me right now. If

I wanted to I could stomp on you and crush you flat, or just wad you up in some

toilet paper and flush you down the toilet. Ha, or maybe even take a shit on

you!" She laughed some more and Mark had to anchor himself with his hand deep in

her butt crack to keep from falling down. She asked him how he'd like something

like that, and spoke right over his low moan as he imagined that situation:

while her feces held no appeal for him, there was something to be said about the

sight of her ass spreading above him and slowly descending to embed him. He

wondered if, after a few more drinks, she might not agree to sitting on him,

especially if this little experience worked out well.

"Well, you should care, because like I said, then you've got one more person

pissed at you," he returned. The higher he got, the more the buttock beside him

broadened so he retracted his legs from her thigh and placed them in the crack

of her ass, righting himself upwards so as to more conventionally scale her

massive cheek. "You never know who you'll need a favor from or something, and

say someday your ass is in a sling and the only person who can help you is

someone you were bitchy to."

Cari shrugged noncommittally, saying, "Oh well, then I guess I get what I

deserve." She felt him crawling up her left ass cheek and shuddered slightly

with ticklishness, her wrists tugging at the thin string bonds as her hands

clenched into fists by the headboard. "Until then, man, people should just stay

the fuck out of my way when I want something. I don't owe anybody anything...

least of all you, little man," she added, giving her ass another shake. She

smirked as she felt his tiny fingers digging desperately into her skin to keep

himself attached to her ass.

Mark gave up the argument and his current tack, choosing to slither up her

thigh. Once on top of the back of her leg, climbing up her hilly ass was no

problem and soon he was at the peak of her cheek. He looked around, astounded at

how broad her buttock spread around him, staring at the equally impressive mound

of flesh just next to it. Her hips shifted and he had to scramble backward a

couple steps to stay on top of her ass, his tiny feet poking into the yielding,

soft flesh as he grappled for traction. He glared up at her and found her

staring at him over her shoulder. "You're done now? No more of this," she

foundered for a suitable word, "philosophical debate?"

He waved her off and said it was over as far as he was concerned, commenting on

the pointlessness of it: "We're obviously arguing from two different value

systems and there's no way to make the other person appreciate our values. We

might as well be speaking two completely different languages." She shrugged and

asked him what he was going to do now. He jumped up and down on her buttock for

a bit, studying the tiny ripples he caused in her fat, how much the flesh gave

beneath him. He stopped when he was going to reply, but she interrupted.

"Do that some more," she said. "That was kind of cute, that jumping."

Mark looked up at her to see that she was staring at his antics; her expression

seemed to be more playful than anything else. Figuring he caught her in a moment

of drunken lucidity he was more than happy to oblige and began jumping around

some more, this time going for height. She laughed but did a fairly good job at

holding still for him. She seemed momentarily charmed with the concept of a tiny

little man bouncing off her buttock like an enormous trampoline. He started to

slow down, but she ordered him to continue and he started to feel a little

awkward just jumping up and down like that; however, he decided he'd better keep

it up until she tired of it, which turned out to be soon afterwards. "Get on

with whatever you were gonna do," she muttered with a dismissive wave of one

bound hand. She rested her head against the pillow and just breathed.

Resentment started to well up in Mark - he knew she was heavily buzzed and

bitchy anyway, but her personality was really starting to grate on him. Why did

such a snotty bitch have to be gifted with such a wonderful ass, he wondered. He

cautiously strode over to the crack of her butt and knelt down astride it for

the moment. "Hey Cari," he called up.

"Fuck that," she snarled. "As long as you're tiny and fucking around with me,

you're going to call me 'goddess,' because I'm your Goddess of Lust." She

laughed hard at this, and he had to fall to all fours to brace himself for her

rumbling fit of laughter.

"Fine, goddess," he relented. "Could you help me out here? Spread your cheeks

like you did before, I want to go down here."

Her globe of spiky orange hair rotated once again and her evil eyes glared down

at him across the smooth, orangey-tan spanse of her back. "And what do you think

you're going to do down there?" she asked, warily.

As much as a tiny man could do, he leveled a gaze back up at her. It felt

ridiculous, being that he was bent over on all fours and clinging to her

buttocks, barking an order up to a woman hundreds of times his size, but his

temper was shortening. "I'm going to fuck you up the ass," he clearly stated,

"and you're going to take it. Now, spread 'em."

She stared at him in disbelief, the tiny little action figure mounted

precariously on top of her big, fat ass, this man who was only a fraction of her

own buttocks, much less her entire body. This little toy of a person was

ordering her around and talking dirty to her. She wanted to just snap free and

grind the little brat into a pulp, but some morbid curiosity in the back of her

mind took over. The left corner of her mouth crooked up in a half-grin and she

nodded slowly. She bent her knees and spread her thighs as much as she could,

even raising her hips in an effort to spread her tremendous buttocks as wide as

they could go. "Thank you," he said quietly, breaking her gaze and focusing his

attention upon the chasm widening beneath him. Her anus was a few feet below and

he figured he could slide down and catch it, but if he missed he would tumble to

the mattress and have to start all over again... if she let him. He could easily

imagine her nailing him to the bed with her hips, burying him in her curly pussy

hair and grinding into him, getting herself off while he fought for space and

air. Tenuously, he extended one slender leg down between her buttocks until his

toes found her anus.

It immediately puckered at his touch and she shrieked at him, "What are you

doing!?" He plunged himself between her buttocks to withstand the agitated

rumbling of her ass as it shook. Ignoring her, he lowered himself down further

and slipped his foot inside her anus, getting a solid foothold. It wasn't

difficult as her asshole was puckering wildly and clamped around his foot - not

enough to seize it, but enough to hold it secure. He lowered himself down and

stretched his arms up over his head, digging his tiny nails into her ass in an

effort to hold himself fast. He called up a request for her to tilt her hips

forward and she obliged reluctantly. It was enough: he could lie in the abyss of

her butt crack and not slip down to the mattress. To further secure him (or

perhaps she was just tired of holding the position) Cari straightened out her

knees and closed her thighs a little, and her buttocks rose up and around him.

Mark suspected that if she were to get up and walk around, he wouldn't even fall

out, so secure was the grip of her ass on his entire body. With that out of the

way, he extracted his foot, stretched his legs down, and nudged his tiny hips

against her anus.

His cock rose to the occasion and it was nothing for him to guide it inside.

Cari's fluttery clenching action only encouraged him and he began thrusting

inside her in earnest. He doubted she could feel anything, and her hole was of

course too large to exert any pressure upon him, but it was still an exciting

experience. It grew more exciting once her hips began to writhe and twitch.

"Jesus Christ," she cried, "I can feel you doing something down there, it's just

real ticklish. Get in or get out!" In an effort to feel him better she began

rocking her hips back and forth: she was able to feel the solidity of his tiny

body as each buttock rumbled and rolled over him, but she still felt that vague

tickling going on in her asshole and it was driving her crazy! She yelled for

him to stick a leg in or something, or at least scratch her where she was

starting to itch. Apparently, she was yelling too loud because someone at the

party began knocking on the door, yelling over the music to see if everything

was okay. Cari craned her head irritably toward the door and asked, "Who the

hell is that?"

"It's Angie," said the knocker. "I heard you yelling, I don't know what, but I

wanted to make sure you were all right. Can I come in?"

Mark froze in his gyrations, froze between Cari's very warm buttocks. He

couldn't imagine how this little tableau would look to anyone else, and wasn't

prepared to introduce anyone else to his little secret. He stroked the inside of

one of Cari's buttocks what he hoped was soothingly. "Please don't let her in,

Cari, please don't let her in," he whispered urgently.

She had no more desire to have someone come in and find a tiny man lodged

between her cheeks than he had for someone to find a tiny little him buried in

someone else's ass. Even at normal size this would have been an embarrassing

situation, but with him shrunken like that, lodged up her butt, and her wrists

and ankles feebly tied to the bed with string, it was more than ridiculous. "No,

everything's fine. Don't come in right now, I'm just a little drunk. We're just

talking, everything's cool," she called out to the concerned member.

Angie seemed to accept that. "Don't be afraid to come out and ask for help if

something's wrong," she offered, and left.

Mark's sigh of relief, while tremendous, was nothing compared to the huge

deflation as he rode this tremendous ass upwards, as she inhaled, and descended

rapidly, as she exhaled. "That was too fucking close," she growled, "hurry up

and get done with whatever you're doing down there. I'm starting to lose

interest."

"Well, that's fucking arousing," he said sarcastically, but in truth his

erection hadn't diminished in the slightest and it was nothing for him to resume

pumping into her enormous anus. The edges of her excitable orifice stretched

from his mid-belly to just above his thighs, completely covering his hips. Using

his arms and legs to draw him back, he thrust as hard as he could into her

asshole, grinding his aroused cock against the sides of the orifice to get

himself off. The more she clenched and fluttered around him, the more aroused he

got. The more her hips thrashed and rocked around, the more aroused he got. It

was a completely exhilarating and overwhelming experience, and the only thing

that could have made it better would have been some affection between himself

and Cari, something more than his one-sided lust and her overt jaded, cynical

pose. Regardless, he was able to immerse himself in the raw sexual act and enjoy

just being between these tremendous, beautiful buttocks, losing track of the

rest of the world and knowing nothing but his goddess' glorious ass.

Suddenly her anus clenched around him and didn't flutter open again. "Dude," she

murmured, "you better get on with what you're doing and finish up." It sounded

like a threat.

"I'll take my time and I'll get done when I'm done," he growled back up at her.

He resumed plunging into her tightly puckered sphincter.

"No, man, you better hurry up and get outta there." The treble increased in her

voice and he wondered if she were smiling as she spoke, but there was no way he

could see anything beyond the two huge walls of ass rising around him.

"Why, what's the big deal?" he asked. "If I come, you're not gonna get pregnant,

don't worry about that..."

She was laughing, and she laughed as she said, "This is your last chance to get

out of there, little man, before I make you get out. I'm warning you, you're not

gonna like it!" He was starting to get really irritated and continued fucking

her anus, asking her what she thought she was going to do to him. "Fine, I

warned you," she said cryptically, and before he could say anything else her

anus burst open with a tremendous fart. The explosive passage of gas roared

around his tiny body and threatened to sever the moorings between his body and

hers (i.e.: a thin scrim of sweat that pasted him to her ass cheeks). She

laughed and laughed, causing the fart to squeeze out in powerful bursts which

finally blasted through the moisture. He clawed at her skin, trying to anchor

himself desperately to her ass, but tiny little Mark flew out of her buttocks,

tumbling through the air to the mattress between her thighs.

He lay there dazed for a moment while she laughed it off. She'd craned around to

watch him and thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. She shared her

hilarity with him, "Oh man, it was like you were already in my ass and I just

farted you out! Like you're a little butt-fairy and you flew out..." She

collapsed into helpless laughter, her fists clenching as the thin string bonds

barely held her arms in place.

He stared up at her enormous buttocks rumbling with laughter, heaving erotically

before him, but he hardly felt erotic at all now. The stench of her intestinal

gas still lingered about him and, as a matter of fact, it was more than a little

frightening to be fucking her tender anus like that only to see it open

alarmingly wide. He could actually see passage into a dark tunnel beyond the

widened sphincter and his mind raced with the horrific thought of tumbling

inside. Of course that was impossible, but as he cartwheeled headlong through

space his thoughts weren't exactly clear. "That's just like you, bitch," he

called up to her, scooting backwards to avoid sliding down into her crotch.

Cari paused in her laughter long enough to take a breath. "What's your problem,

little man?" she asked him, fairly cheerful after this incident.

"That's just like you," he continued, "to purposely not hold onto your gas," she

broke into laughter again, "and blast it all around me. Never mind that I'm

another person, never mind that I'm trying to have sex... that just you all

over. Crude, insensitive... just a complete bitch, no redeeming qualities."

This kind of talk started to upset her, but she was still able to laugh at the

tiny little tyrant. "Big talk for a butt-fairy. If I have no redeeming

qualities, why were you so intent on crawling up my butt like this, hmm? Are you

going to pretend you don't like my ass anymore?" To accentuate her point she

waggled her hips, and her tremendous buttocks swayed fetchingly before him.

Against his will, his cock immediately hardened again in response to the

glorious sight.

He brushed himself up and stood up unsteadily. "That was just genetics," he

said, "that was no action on your part. Well, no more action than it takes to

sit on your fat ass and watch TV or get drunk in a bar night after night." He

was so pissed off he failed to notice her laughter abruptly stop. He added,

"Screw this... I'm going for the big potion, getting dressed and taking off. You

can free yourself after I leave." He waved her off and started walking away from

her ass, toward her knees. He intended to crawl under her ankle and hop off the

edge of the bed to his clothes, where the enlargement potion waited for him.

Cari was suddenly in no mood to take the abuses of an arrogant little pipsqueak

like him. Her toes clenched and suddenly the cheap bonds of string around her

ankle snapped. "Think so, butt-fairy?" she challenged, snapping her other ankle

free. "I think you're going to stick around a while until I get what I want."

Mark, witnessing her breaking free, froze in his tracks. "What... what are you

doing, Cari?" he stammered, staring in disbelief as his world closed in on him:

she was closing her thighs around the tiny little man. He pitched forward and

broke into a run but never even made it to her knees before her thighs clamped

around him and he was caught between two walls of smooth, hot flesh, welling up

around him for all their sheer volume. A thinner girl might have just been able

to hold him out of the overpowering strength of her legs, compared to his total

body strength at that size, but part of him would have poked out in that pinion.

Cari, however, was a heavier girl and her massive thighs squashed him

completely, spreading above his head and below his feet.

It was nothing for her to snap her hands free and she took some time pulling the

string off her wrists and ankles before plucking the tiny little man from

between her legs. She held him aloft, reaching backwards as she lay on her

front, and dangled him above the backs of her legs. "Nice view, eh?" she asked

with playful malevolence, rattling him between her thumb and forefinger. "A

bird's-eye view of your goddess' body. I must look like a," she floundered for

vocabulary again, "an entire landscape of lust for you."

Mark clutched her thumb desperately, genuinely alarmed as to what the angry,

bitchy giantess might do with him next. She smirked at his embrace and shook him

until his arms fell free. "But now it's time for all birds to return to their

roosts. That goes for butt-fairies, too," and so saying, she dropped him from a

height of several yards (to him) to land smack on her ass again. He bounced off

her buttocks once and caromed towards her legs, but this time her thighs were

closed so the crevasse he tumbled into was nothing but flesh, no mattress at

all. Laughing, her huge fingers reached back and started smacking into his tiny

body, as if trying to spank him.

"What are you doing!?" he cried out, trying to fend off the huge, flat palm that

hovered behind him, brushing him along like a dustball.

"Go back, go back," she said in a singsong voice to him, "time to go back,

little man! Time to come home to your favorite ass, little butt-fairy! Go back,

go back..." To the beat of her little song she smacked him with her fingertips

and Mark realized she was rolling him to her buttocks again. There was no

reasoning with someone in a delirious drunken state like this so he tried to

escape. His mobility, however, was hampered by trying to amble over her huge

thighs, unsticking himself whenever her sweat sucked at him, and attempting to

dodge the huge silly hand swatting him up towards her ass. She got one good

swing at him and her fingers slapped his tiny body hard, lifting him up

momentarily and slamming him into her buttocks. She laughed uproariously at

that, tilting her hips ceiling-ward to part her cheeks and expose the tender,

puckered little starfish of her anus. Mark screamed like a little girl when

Cari's fingers rested upon his back and commenced shoving him inexorably towards

her asshole.

Screaming as he was, and laughing as Cari was, neither of them heard Angie

quietly ask for permission to come inside, nor heard the doorknob twist. When

the noise of the party blasted into the room, however, they both paused in their

activity to turn and stare at the intruder, standing aghast in the center of the

floor, beside Mark's clothes and the enlarging potion. Without taking her eyes

off the bizarre tableau Angie reached out to feel for the door and close it

again. "I don't know what's going on here," she started.

Cari laughed and covered Mark up with her entire hand, nestling him between her

buttocks. "Oh, it's nothing," she said." I was just getting a little hot from

the party so I thought I'd relax in here and cool off."

Angie shook her head. "Mark was in here with you though."

"He left. Didn't you see him? He left just a second before you came in here. I

thought maybe you talked to him and-..."

"Shut up," Angie screamed. "His clothes are right fucking here. He didn't leave

the room. What are you covering up?" She stomped over to the obese woman in

repose and clutched at her wrist before she could protest. Yanking her hand

away, she found herself staring at a tiny Mark sprawled in the tuck of her ass,

his hair pasted partly to one buttock as his eyes looked around wildly.

Cari grinned and waggled her ass slowly. "What do you think?" she asked

cheerily. "My own little ass-fairy. Isn't he cute? Now, it's time for him to go

back home." So saying, she yanked her hand back from Angie's grasp and poked two

fingers into Mark's midsection, more forcefully driving him between her

buttocks. He began to quite literally disappear between her cheeks, until his

arms and legs were sticking out, comically splayed.

Angie barely had the presence of mind to smack Cari's paw out of the way and

spread the planetary buttocks apart, drawing Mark out from between them by his

arm. Immediately she scooped him protectively up into her hand and cushioned him

against her breast, stepping backwards to where his clothes lay. "You insane

fucking bitch," she stammered, grabbing Mark's shirt and pants. "I don't know

what the fuck this was all about... this is just impossible, but I'll sort it

out later."

Sitting drunkenly up Cari said, "No, Ange, you don't understand... c'mon, gimme

the little guy back, he has to come home. He's been a bad little ass-fairy."

The noise from the party outside and the few drinks she had were almost

overwhelming to Angie, not to mention the added factor of holding a tiny

shrunken version of an acquaintance she'd met not an hour ago at this event, but

her fury at the heedlessness of the plump young woman on the edge of the bed

clarified some of her thoughts. Scanning once more for discarded clothing she

stuffed the guy's socks into his hiking boots and only glanced at the blue and

green bottles for a moment before stashing them as well, just in case. "We're

getting out of here, Cari. You're way too drunk to be responsible for something

this..." She looked down at the terrified man huddled against the black lace of

her dress as it swelled out with her breast. "I don't even know what this is,

but you could have hurt him and I don't think you even care."

Cari put on a serious face at that point, and then a sad one. "You're right,

Ange. I really was..." she struggled to find the word, "stupid, and I could have

hurt him badly." She hung her head and tried to cover her small breasts with one

arm as if suddenly ashamed of her nudity. "Could I please apologize?"

Stone-carved was Angie's stern expression, but she relented. "Okay, apology

accepted. We're going, now. I'm sure we'll talk about this later."

"No, no, Ange. To him," she said, gesturing to the hand cupped against her

breast, holding the frail little man. "I really want to let him know how sorry I

am this spun out of control."

This was a dubious situation at best: Mark, hearing every word, tried to

gesticulate wildly to Angie not to bring him near the drunken bitch, but Angie

felt it would at least soothe Cari's recalcitrant soul to make some gesture of

amends to the little guy. "Okay, just... briefly," she said. "You've obviously

terrified him, but maybe this will help end it."

Cari grinned toothily as Angie unfurled her hand from her chest to hold Mark out

on display. He stared back at Angie, horror-stricken, who just nodded

encouragingly at him. His heart beating wildly, he turned back to Cari as she

straightened up on the bed and folded her hands in her copious lap.

"Mark, Mark," she said, mock-endearingly. "This has been such a wild experience,

hasn't it?" He was too shaken to reply; the warmth Angie's palm did nothing to

assuage the chill that welled up in him as the huge, malicious giantess purred

and cooed at him. "I never would have believed something like this could be

possible. You've shared a wonderful, unbelievable new world with me and I...

well, you can see how easily I got caught up in it. It really is an intriguing

possibility, to have you - all of you - inside me. It was almost like a

dream..." she said, trailing her voice off. Angie followed as best she could but

her buzz was taking over again and she got lost in Cari's overly dramatic words,

when suddenly Cari shouted, "A dream I'm not giving up!" Her hand lashed out and

smacked the bottom of Angie's hand, bumping Mark aloft for the split second it

took to snatch him out of midair with Cari's other hand. The air was crushed out

of his lungs as she gripped him tightly. "Doesn't matter which way, you're just

going inside me!" she laughed, opening her jaws wide and rushing the tiny man

into her maw. He screamed breathlessly as her huge head zoomed up and around

him, her glistening teeth racing past his view as her throat flexed wider to

accommodate the little man, above a moist bed of tongue...

Angie snapped out of her reverie just in time to yank Cari's wrist back and

bring the flat of her palm into the drunk girl's nose. Yelping in pain, Cari

dropped Mark to the carpet and covered up her nose, shrieking into her palms.

Mark tumbled between the heavy girl's knees, her smooth calves zooming past as

the shag carpet caught most of the impact of his fall. Relatively uninjured, he

looked up at the giantesses: Angie stood above and behind him, her boots just

hemming his view as his gaze led unexpectedly up her stockinged legs and into

her short black skirt. Meanwhile, directly above him, as Cari fell back in pain

she brought her right foot up off the carpet and sent it crashing down again,

stomping heavily around the tiny man. Panicked beyond belief, Mark barely had

time to dodge the first footfall, and his view of a horizon of plush carpet was

abruptly replaced with an upclose and personal view of Cari's slight arches. Up

went her foot again, as her howling keened off in the distance over the bed, and

Mark threw himself backwards to dodge the next crashing descent. His back

slammed into her other ankle, however, and Cari reflexively raised her left foot

instead of the other. Mark fell to his back and found himself staring straight

up at the sole of her foot, and as it came down there was nowhere to roll.

The warm, fleshy sole of her foot crashed upon him and he was pressed back into

the carpet. The acrylic strands coiled like springs beneath him and gave as much

as they could, as the heavy giantess' foot drove him into the floor. If she'd

been standing it would have been quite likely for him to crush him and break his

bones, burst his skin beneath her heel or the ball of her foot. As it was, he

was beneath the arch of her foot and she was lying on the bed with most of her

weight, so he was left relatively uninjured. When her foot rose once more to

attempt another stomp on the helpless little man, Angie was there to snatch him

away and, with his clothes, flee the room, leaving the evil giantess howling

with pain and sobbing with frustration behind them.

She shouldered her way through the party animals, giving way in their drunken

stupor, and stormed through the kitchen to the hallway and finally to the

bathroom. Locking the door behind her, she set the bottle and the tiny man down

on the vanity and dropped the clothes to the floor. She found a beer bottle cap

in the trash and rinsed it out, filling it with water for Mark when he was

recovered enough to drink. He thanked her emphatically as she sat on the toilet

beside the sink and stared at him, completely captivated. When he asked for it,

she opened the green bottle and used the eye-dropper to administer a droplet for

him to suck down. Presently his size was restored and he dressed himself

hastily. As much as he wanted to thank her and take off, though, he felt he owed

her some answers for the questions doubtlessly racing through her mind at this

point. He leaned against the vanity, smirking at the bottle cap he tossed back

into the trash, and invited her to ask anything.

"Well, it looks like you really want to take off," she started, and he was

surprised at her sensitivity, even with a few drinks in her. "But... my God,

what I just saw, that was amazing." He nodded silently. "Was that... did that

just..." She paused to take a breath and collect her thoughts. "Do those bottles

do what I think they do?" she said finally.

"They do. This one makes you small, and this one makes you big again," he said,

holding up each respective bottle.

"What if you drink the green one first? Do you get huge?"

He frowned. "I have no idea. It never occurred to me to try, honestly. I've only

been interested in... um, shrinking."

"Maybe you could... sorry. Not my business." She blushed and framed the next

question: "Where'd they come from?"

Here he sighed, trying to remember as far back as it went. "It's really a long

story, but... I've always had his fascination in tiny men or huge woman, and I

was talking with some other people who had this interest as well, and one of

them directed me to this source. It cost a lot of money, but," he grinned at the

bottles, "it's worth it. It is so fucking worth it."

She grinned at his customer satisfaction, then stood up and smoothed out her

hair in the mirror. "Well, I, um... Of course I have a hundred more questions,

but maybe they should wait for another time." She looked at him as he made to

leave. "Would you be comfortable calling me sometime?"

He was genuinely surprised by her forwardness, even moreso when she grabbed his

forearm and scrawled out her number in eyeliner. "Call me, Mark," she said.

"I... I will," he stammered, looking at his forearm in confusion. Unhappy with

that answer she spun him around to face him and very slowly, deliberately placed

the toe of her boot upon the toe of his shoe and pressed down.

The significance of this gesture was not lost on him. As his astonished gaze

flew from her boot to her face, she said very quietly, "No, really. Call me."

She stepped off his shoe and backed up, going back to sit down on the edge of

the bathtub at the end of the room. Mark stared at her, his mind racing, and

slipped quietly out of the bathroom, shouldering his way through the party and

walking off to find his car. The night air was particularly brisk and the stars

shown with an intense brightness, he noticed, as he climbed into his

transportation and took off for home.

The Bottles of Al

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