The Last of the Micrins (Chapter 6) (Patreon)

Still half-asleep, Diana hazily rolled over in bed to see the clock read 12:27, and was frustrated by her apparent restlessness. She smacked her lips, realizing she would remain awake now until she found something to quench her midnight thirst, and then pulled back the covers. Her bare feet met the carpet toes-first and she ascended from the mattress, stroking both palms down the sleek pitch-black mesh finery of her sensuous figure-revealing night gown that matched her visibly-onyx panties beneath. Then she groggily strutted out of the bedroom en route to the kitchen. Though as sleepily irritated as Diana felt to wake up in the dead of night like this while feeling so parched, her bemusement was nothing next to the collective panic that struck the hearts of every micrin who heard and saw her coming now. Most of them had been lulled into a false sense of security after sunset and the giantess retired for the night, thinking this was their best chance to safely regroup with other witnesses of the day’s earlier massacre by their unknowing hostess. But they were wrong.

A micrin named Samuel was standing on the kitchen table, just as the blinding overhead lights switched on. With nowhere to go, he frigidly remained where he stood like an escaping prisoner caught in the guard tower spotlights, while Diana fetched a glass and filled it to the brim. Sipping from her drink, then, the giantess headed for the table, and before she even sat down, her gaze fixated with recognition upon the diminutive creature positioned where she’d eaten dinner hours before. The half-drunk water cup clacked weightily upon the tabletop near where Samuel stood, petrified, while Diana picked up her reading glasses and slowly put them on to better examine this invasive bug. It came as a surprise, then, as the woman bowed her head over the table and squinted in scrutiny, and it dawned on her at last that the thing standing on her table was unmistakably a pitifully Lilliputian man, not an ordinary insect.

Neither Samuel nor the giantess made a sound, though the micrin could hear his own horrified heartbeat pounding in his ears. He still knew running was pointless, but maybe he’d be better off just hurling himself to his doom over the table’s edge. Somehow that end seemed less ghastly than continuing to be studied by this comely but frightfully godlike woman, and awaiting whatever she had in store. Perhaps it was her dream-like state of tiredness and centered calm at this late hour which prevented Diana from giving off a major reaction, or manifesting any naturally freaked-out shock upon learning that such speck-like beings existed at all. She wasn’t perplexed or creeped out, but only quietly accepting. Diana’s lips steadily spanned into a smile, as her thoughts retreated again to Attack of the 50-Foot Woman, of all things, and the at-first unrecognized sensations of lust she’d experienced while watching. Now, though, she had clarity. She wasn’t just turned on from seeing Nancy cause pandemonium on a tiny populace. Diana wanted to feel that power over insignificant ultra-tiny lives for herself. And upon acknowledging Samuel, she realized it wasn’t water she was really thirsty for.

Meanwhile, the table-marooned micrin became too intimidated to keep staring up into the gigantic freckled babe’s dazzling blue eyes, especially while she still refused to outwardly indicate any judgment of her discovery yet, besides her growing smirk. Instinctively, Samuel hung his head, which naturally placed his vision instead upon the comparatively alpine terrain of Diana’s buxom chest where it swelled up beneath the largely see-through black fabric. At once, his near-suicidal fear transformed into hypnotic admiration, mirroring the near-religious attraction several other now-deceased micrins had suffered earlier. Samuel stared over every perfectly-rounded curve and tautly-compressed angle of those bountifully juicy breasts veiled behind that mesh like a dark waterfall. Speechless, the little thing had never felt so enchanted by any singular feature in any living being or even all of nature, just circling his newly-zeroed focus with breathless need to appreciate the robust immaculately-smooth fullness of those monumental night-gowned tits. So complete was Samuel’s stupor, in fact, that he in no way noticed the controlled flight of Diana’s massive hand across the tabletop, even as it positioned itself right behind him and then hurtled inward for a flicking swat.

Though of course there was no mistaking it once the speeding bulwark of the giantess’s pinky fingertip struck him like a freight train, and launched the little thing not only high into the air, but directly toward the neckline of her nighttime garb. Screaming without a sound for the whole vertiginous arc, Samuel fell behind that mesh border and then landed among the warm buoyant utterly-consuming flesh of the giantess’s larger-than-life boobs. He found himself swaddled on all sides by that ample perky void, definitely smothered firmly in place, but not pressurized quite to the point of pain. The little guy marveled at the pleasurable sensory overload of inhabiting the exact place he’d just been drooling after from afar. They were every bit as soft as they looked, and much huger from up-close. If Diana really was a goddess, he decided, this should be her temple of worship. Though Samuel’s sexually-charged devotion wasn’t allowed to carry on for long, as the woman giggled low in her throat for a few seconds at the ticklish sensation of his highly-fragile body gently clasped in place by her resting cleavage. And then she promptly cupped both breasts from the sides and mashed their bulk compactly together, causing her mammary captive to rupture before he even realized what was happening.

At the same time, what felt in micrin-terms like many stories below, Dylan was stranded upon the sturdy cloud-white platform of the same kitchen chair where Diana was currently seated. Miraculously, he wasn’t subject to an instant liquefying under the giantess’s sizable athletically-sculpted hindquarters when they rammed downward to rest, though only because he just so happened to be standing in her thigh gap when she abruptly claimed her throne. It felt at once like he was lost in a deep walled-in chasm, made of the woman’s luscious thighs wrapped snugly within that translucent night-sky fabric. Though it was tough for him to tell what was going on above from so far beneath, Dylan tried to count his blessings that she hadn’t sat on him, and remained as still as possible, just praying the giantess would leave without seeing him. Unfortunately, those prayers went grimly unanswered, when Diana let out a satisfied sigh in the wake of crushing Samuel between her boobs, and then by sheer chance, turned her attention to that narrow arena right between her legs, where Dylan’s trembling micro-body was visibly contrasted against the white surface. Any momentary hope he might’ve had that her vision invisibly blended his incredibly-small body in with the texture of her clothing and the chair was lost when he saw her already-bright eyes light up like Christmas and her pretty lips widen into a grin.