The Last of the Micrins (Chapter 3) (Patreon)

Suddenly everything became clear to Gabriel. From the start, he’d been among the micrins who theorized that this ginormous architectural marvel which they’d chosen to make their home was in fact a temple built by ancient deities, and now the proof of this notion was looming directly above him. There was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that he was in the holy presence of a bona fide goddess right now. He dropped to his knees, feeling a stir radiate out from his core, until all of him was tingling with lascivious magnetism toward Diana, and in particular the ample largely-exposed hills of her squeezable booty cheeks far overhead. A part of him understood that this, now, was his one and only opportunity to flee. The giantess was taking her time flipping through the channels while standing above the sofa, with her boundless ass hovering in space above Gabriel like his own personal glute-shaped sun. Even as tired as he was from the climb, he could have started running now and cleared what was sure to be the eventual landing zone of that pert rump once she finally settled on a show and sunk onto the pillows.

But he didn’t even try. He didn’t want to. All he desired was to stay right here, taking in the view of Diana’s panty-taut tush, and then eventually be united with its no-doubt warm soft-but-firm suppleness when she finally sat down directly where he was standing. This also meant, Gabriel concluded with surprising calm, that he was going to die. Yet he accepted that fact. Not because he had a death wish, but because the thought of removing himself from the orbit of this goddess was unthinkable to him. Sixty seconds ago, he’d never seen Diana, never even knew that beings as immense and beautiful as her existed, yet inside that minute, he’d already formed a religion of one, and decided that he couldn’t abandon her. He was devoted to this magnificent form of hers, and even considered himself one of the luckiest micrins alive (however temporarily) to stand so near to her, as long as he was allowed.

“GABRIEL!” the voice of another tiny survivor screamed from the distant sidelines, having hidden behind one of the pillows, out-of-range from Diana’s intended throne. “RUN! HURRY! OVER HERE! SHE’S… GOING TO SIT ON YOU!”

Gabriel smiled, genuinely touched by his fellow micrin’s concern, but there was no way he was going anywhere now. He didn’t dare blink while staring up at Diana’s ass, let alone turn his head in the direction of that yelping voice, and then calmly proceeded to stand and pull his pants down. By now, those tingles had turned into full-blown arousal, and the little thing was fully erect before he’d even stripped. Unable to resist, he touched and tugged at his member, suffused with mind-blowing pleasure while so mesmerized by the vision above, right as Diana began to gradually squat herself down toward this oh-so-comfy spot on the furniture for some solid binge-watching.

“GABRIEL! PLEASE!” the micrin howled again, but he wasn’t even listening to her now.

At the literal last second, however, with perhaps an inch left to descend before Gabriel was trounced to a speck of dead meat between the buoyant couch and the godlike volleyball player’s bum, Diana stopped herself from fully reposing, when the TV remote evidently tumbled from her hand and clattered somewhere beneath the coffee table. The unseen micrin below her found himself strangely disappointed when his impact below her was delayed, though he couldn’t complain too much, as the reversal of her momentum into a deep kneel granted him a prolonged view of her glorious sculpted thighs, flaunting and flexing to maintain the balance of her powerful frame. Then at once, even better, Gabriel received a front-row seat to the most blessed show of his life, as Diana bent all the way forward on her hands and knees to reach below the table, while propping her strong bubble-butted hindquarters steeply into the air. From here, the eternally grateful micrin could see those dark-blue panties stretching tight as translucent elastic across what little real estate of her graceful posterior they still covered, while much of the thin garment’s stringy midsection was outright swallowed betwixt those humongous buttocks. That peach-perfect ass was so pronounced and elevated from Gabriel’s perspective, in fact, that he could even see all the way through to where the bulge-lipped geometry of her sultry cameltoe reshaped the front-facing patch of those panties.

Now the micrin was incredibly grateful that Diana had dropped that remote and staved off his under-booty execution just a while longer. Because otherwise, he never would’ve experienced this specific seductively-apex angle of her masterpiece backend. Unable to remain standing, Gabriel laid supine in the humblest position he could place himself, mid-masturbation. His eyes popped, his jaw hung open, and his whole body pulsated with adrenaline while he jerked himself off in a state of maddeningly faithful neediness for his new goddess. This truly made the micrins’ entire long journey worth it, he resolutely decided. Hell, Gabriel would’ve happily traveled twice as far as he did, nearly starved himself, and braved legions more beastly dangers in the forest, if only he’d known the erotic and wholly-worthy fortune that awaited him here, at the seat of the greatest goddess to whom he could ever devote himself. What had he ever done to earn such a spectacular fate?

“GABRIEL!” the other micrin wailed yet again, apparently unable to understand what Gabriel was doing now or why. Which Gabriel could only pity. By this point, he was convinced that all the micrins would’ve been wise to drop their own pants, rub one out, and then place themselves voluntarily in a place they’d eventually be rightfully destroyed by their luminous and unknowing goddess. “DON’T… GIVE… UP! DON’T LEAVE US! PLEASE!”

Overcome, and finding it impossible to wait any longer, Gabriel experienced the most explosively satisfying orgasm of his life. Now more ready than he’d ever been, he spread his limbs wide like a puny sacrifice on the altar of Diana’s sofa and let out a deep exhale, shutting his eyes for only a flash. When he reopened them, the giantess had recovered the remote and was arching back up to reclaim her seat. And this time nothing would stop her. Grinning, more sure of his choice here than anything he’d ever done before, Gabriel had time for one last fleeting stare around the libido-firing circumference of the titaness’s wiggly and mountainous badonkadonk, before he was taken in by shadow – and by the obliterating heft of those athletic cheeks themselves, when they finally bashed down into the cushion for rest, and eliminated that little micrin admirer at last.