The following was written by a woman on Prodigy

Monica slowly returns the handful of frightened and very abused men to

the ground. She opens her huge fist and the tiny group crawls, limps, and

staggers off her huge palm. As an after thought she curls one of these tiny

tiny, little subjects in one finger and lifts him back off the ground. He

screams in shear terror. Music to her ears. Monica is the only girl I know

who baits her own fish hook. She tucks the little guy away to play, torture,

toy with later. I might go watch. Poof, we're gone. Two regular but very

attractive girls step from the portal and through my closet door. The half

inch guys live on a beach somewhere in that tiny world.

If we are going to a beach, we had to return to our regular world to

change clothes. We undress and put on our bikinis. And we put our high heels

back on our feet. They really, really show off our long, long, long, long

legs. They bring out the best in them. And we know the tiny little guys

really lust for them. So us, in bikinis and high heels, we could rule their

puny nation even if we we're their size. Even better though, we're not! We

both put on sun glasses. They help in the bright sun. But, the main reason we

wear them is that we can look down on a hundred tiny faces and each one

"thinks" we're looking directly at him. Increasing their fear twice as much.

Armed and dangerous, we step back through the portal.

Our visit to the world of half inch guys was outstanding. I'll talk about

how that went soon. Now Monica and I are back in our own regular world. We

have just returned. We still are wearing our bikinis. Monica has brought back

the tiny little half inch guy who dared to cross her on the beach. The little

man actually tried to fight her. She is sitting at my kitchen table with the

tiny little man sprawled out before her. She has one end of a piece of thread

wrapped around her finger. The other end is tied around that poor tiny

bastard's waist. I watch in awe as Monica drags him, hangs him, twirls him

around with this tiny thin piece of thread. He is so small. I have seen a lot

of insects bigger than this little man.

Monica reaches into her purse. she takes out a needle. She slowly twist

the needle back and forth in her finger tips as she looks down at the poor

tiny man. He sees this and tries to run. But he can't go anywhere because he

is tied to the thread. Slowly Monica starts to wind the thread around her

finger dragging the poor little man to her. All the while, waving the needle

above his head back and forth, back and forth. She drags him ever closer to

her huge waiting hand. Monica has very long fingernails. And she likes

painting them in very dark shades of fingernail polish. Ever since we made

our first trip to the little world she has kept her nails painted black. Why?

I don't know. The tiny man screams and kicks as he is finally dragged next to

her giant hand. Two huge black fingernails slowly close on his tiny body like

a vice. I notice her squeeze him slightly as she lifts him off the table. He

screams in horror as she takes the needle and starts to lightly touch him

with its sharp tip. In panic he fights and pounds on Monica's giant

thumbnail. A thumbnail that is twice as long as he is tall.

She pokes the needle in his tiny shaking little chest. He screams from

the pain. She settles back in her chair and watches him for a moment.

Grinning at him in a very wicked way. Watching him battle against her

vice like grip between her fingernails. Very long, very black, very cold. She

puts the tiny pitiful thing back on the table. She places the needle down

next to him. It dwarfs his tiny feet.

"BOW DOWN TO ME." She commands. He bows. "CRAWL TO ME." She commands. He

crawls. "NOW GET YOUR PUNY ASS UP AND DANCE FOR ME." She commands. He dances.

Total control. She savors it.

I watched Monica slowly torture this tiny little creature between her

huge fingers. I could barely hear his tiny screams of pain, terror, and

hopelessness. It was kind of interesting to watch her work. Wait a minute.

That's a wrong way of putting it. It was kind of interesting watching her

play. She is so cruel. Standing between her giant hands is a VERY tiny little

man half inch tall. I've seen crickets bigger than he is.

First Monica orders the little man to fall on his knees before her. Then

commands him to praise her. Then tells him to give her some reasons why, in

her words, "SHOULD I SPARE YOUR TINY WORTHLESS LITTLE LIFE?"

She then pretends to soften as he cries on his knees begging and pleading

for his life. His tiny little hands are extended out and up to her giant

beautiful face for mercy.

Then with a cold, cruel grin she says, "I'M SORRY LITTLE MAN, THAT'S NOT

GOOD ENOUGH." She slowly closes her fingers around his tiny little body,

holding him between her long black nails. She slowly squeezes him until he

screams from the pain. Then she stops for a second to listen to his tiny

voice once again plead with her. I don't know which she enjoys more.

Inflicting the pain or listening to him beg her for his life while

holding it between her fingers. Probably the later. Because owning his life

gives her the tremendous feeling of power she always wants, always craves.

She slowly starts to crush him again and he cries out again, only this time

she doesn't stop. She continues the pressure sending his tiny little voice to

new heights of terror and agony. The poor little bastard should have never

tried to wrestle her back in that very small land.

She finally lets up on the crushing pressure. And watches him wither in

her fingertips, gasping for air. And reeling in the pain and misery she is

inflicting on him. I can tell by the look on her cold, lovely face that she

is really enjoying all of this.

Suddenly I see a new sudden horror fill up in that very small man's face.

As he watches Monica slowly picks up the needle in her other hand. The little

thing is terrified and fights against her massive black finger nails wrapped

so effortlessly around his tiny body.

She sticks him with the needle. Its four times longer than he is. He

screams, she moves on to another spot she sticks he screams, she sticks, he

screams, she laughs.

Monica continues with the needle for several minutes. But to him must

seem like hours. His tiny cries are music to her ears I watched amused as she

places him back down on the table. A table that could hold most of the tiny

town he's from on it's top. In a crumbled heap he now lies before his giant,

mighty Empress. She teases him letting several seconds pass by watching him

in all his fear. While this huge beautiful Goddess decides his fate.

With just a tiny flick of her giant finger, really just a slight bending

of the tip, she pulls him to his feet. She grins as he tries to stay

standing. He falls back down. Monica flicks her finger once again. He squeaks

as he finds himself once again on his feet. "I WANT YOU TO DANCE AGAIN FOR ME

ONLY THIS TIME I WANT YOU TO SING AT THE SAME TIME." He reels from her

thundering voice. She pokes his little bitty bare foot with her needle.

DANCE, SING. He dances and sings some strange tune from his little world.

Its kind of cute but we don't really care. We enjoy the fear in his voice,

more than his tiny little song.

Monica can see now that he is starting to become exhausted from all this.

He starts to waver. "DON'T YOU DARE THINK ABOUT STOPPING YOU TINY LITTLE

INSECT." Total dismay fills his tiny face. He cries out as she sticks him

again with the long silver needle.

Finally in total complete exhaustion he passes out in front of her. He

falls flat on his belly sprawled out before her on the table. She looks over

her shoulder at me and winks. She looks back down at him just catching him

waking back up. He looks back up at her terrified. "I SAID DON'T STOP" and

then with a mocking smile she says "FOR DISOBEYING ME YOU MUST BE PUNISHED."

She puts her mammoth hand down on the table palm up. And the she makes a

fist. She then extends her long forefinger the long black nail extending out

on both sides of his tiny shoulders as she places it on his chest. "HOLD ON

TO MY FINGERNAIL YOU PATHETIC LITTLE SLAVE." She commands. He stretches his

arms as wide as he possibly can and grasps the edges of one huge back

fingernail with his very tiny hands. "YOU BETTER HOLD ON" she say laughing.

She slowly lifts him high off the table. He screams. She slowly stands up.

His tiny cries increase dramatically. Here she has him hundreds of feet above

the ground dangling him on the tip of her finger. She still has on her bikini

and I can tell she's alive with pleasure.

Did you actually dream that poor little Jean-Claude Von Man was any match

for Goddess Empress Monica? I think I'll pay a visit to the tiny half inch

world and punish them for their stupidity.

This brings back the memory of Monica slowly lowering the tiny man

hanging on her fingernail. Placing him between her gigantic high heel feet.

She orders him to bow down between them. He does. Her feet are twenty times

longer than he is. Her heels rise yards above his head. "KISS MY FOOT YOU

TINY SLAVE SHE COMMANDS." In terror he does. She now raises her mighty foot

to crush him like the butt of a cigarette.

Monica holds her huge incredible spiked heeled foot over tiny, tiny

Jean-Claude. Slowly and grinning very cruelly Monica slowly lowers her foot

down on the little man. The soul of her shoe is now almost touching the top

of the tiny man's head. She stops lowering her foot. I notice how taut the

muscles are in her gorgeous long legs as she slowly cocks her ankle back and

forth over that tiny, trembling, horrified face. "I WANT YOU TO GET DOWN ON

YOUR KNEES AND BEG ME FOR YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE LIFE!" She says in a very

powerful commanding voice. He falls to his knees and starts to beg and plead

to this huge, beautiful, and very cruel Goddess. In a tiny little voice

hardly audible at all he begs for his life. He ask that she forgive him for

even touching her toe back in his little village. She watches all his

moaning, and begging with a great deal of satisfaction. Knowing his life is

hers. She owns it. She can take his life and do what she pleases. She can end

it if she wants, just because her foots getting a little tired as she cocks

it back and forth just above that small, pleading figure of a man. A very

proud man at one time in his world, has now been reduced to a groveling,

crying, pitiful little heap by this beautiful giantess now towering over him.

"STAND UP MY LITTLE SLAVE" she orders. And Jean-Claude stands. She slams her

huge spike heel down on the floor missing him by inches. He is jolted to the

floor by the force of the blow. "CRAWL YOUR TINY ASS OVER HERE TO ME NOW!"

She screams down to him.

He cowers from the impact of such a powerful voice.

He crawls over to one of her huge feet. And lies limp next to it. He

places one tiny hand on her gigantic high heel. Straining his head back and

looking up at Monica's lovely, glaring face far above. In total, and I do

mean total, defeat he says "i'm sorry, please forgive me majesty" Monica

smiles over at me. What was once a proud and arrogant man is now a tiny

little mass of pulp now groveling at this incredible huge female's very large

feet. He has one little arm clinging to the side or maybe more to the bottom

of Monica's high heel. I marvel at the size of her foot and the tinyness of

the man next to it. Monica crouches down on her heels and the tiny man

huddles from her in fear. He is completely engulfed in the shadow of her huge

shapely knees.

"GET ON YOUR FEET MY LITTLE SLAVE" she orders. The poor pitiful creature,

the once proud Jean-Claude, struggles, then stands.

"I HAVE TO GO OUT FOR A WHILE. WHEN I COME BACK I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR

PUNY LITTLE ASS ANYWHERE AROUND HERE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"Yes most powerful majesty" he squeaks.

"NOW, KISS MY FEET FOR SPARING YOUR MISERABLE LITTLE LIFE. The little man

rushes madly back under Monica's towering knees bows to this Goddess at her

enormous feet. He then kisses the tip of her high heel shoe. He then looks up

at this huge lovely girl. Monica watches him grinning the whole time. She

continues to grin down at him. And like so many times before I can see the

fear start to rise in that very small face. She slowly lowers her giant hand

to him. He slowly backs away from it. He starts to cry. Monica takes her

giant forefinger and flicks the poor man across the floor. He must slide

100ft. He comes to a halt in a very tiny crushed up ball. Monica stands back

up. She is towering huge and beautiful over tiny little Jean-Claude. She

stands a moment longer savoring the power she has over him. The once powerful

man cowers, and shakes in fear far below her. Finally with a cold smile on

her face. she looks at him and says "YOU DISGUST ME, GET YOUR SORRY ASS OUT

OF MY SIGHT !" He flees in panic. To where? I don't know. Monica's wicked

laughter fills the air as he runs away.

She finally turns to me and says. "Jean I'm going to the video store Is

there anything you're in the mood to see. I tell her there's not. Watching

her with little Jean-Claude has turned me on and I plan on going back to the

land of half inch guys as soon as she leaves. "OK," Monica says, "I think

I'll rent Kickboxer and Double Impact, See you later."

Wow, what a weekend. You know it suddenly occurred to me. I've never

punished the half inch guys for making my high heel shoes too tight. No time

like the present. Soon they will feel this Goddess's wrath. I want to tease

them as well as terrorize them. Its more fun knowing they lust for me but, at

the same time fear me more than anything in their tiny lives.

So I put on one of my shortest mini-skirts. It's black. It's leather.

There by the foot of my closet door are the shoes the tiny little men made

for me. I go and pick them up. These are indeed fine high heel shoes.

Incredible! The craftsmanship is supreme. Lets face it the shoes are perfect,

gorgeous! I lift each leg and put the shoes on my feet. They fit perfectly.

I'll never tell the tiny builders of these shoes any of this. Because this

keeps their fear up. It will only make them keep trying harder as they build

things for me. Not wanting to displease their giant Empress.

I open my closet door and step into it. Then with a feeling of great

pleasure and anticipation, I step through the magic portal. And return to

that tiny land. As I approach the land of the half inch guys I am struck by

how much it looks like Houston, Texas. The city I visited this weekend. Only

its a million times smaller. Around the entire miniature city these little

guys have built a wall. The wall is about ten inches high. It is as high as

many of their little buildings. The way I understand it, they built it to

keep the taller three inch guys out. And I guess any other large intruders to

their world. With a wicked smile I slightly raise my foot and step over their

puny wall.

I think I like the world of the half inch guys better than the world of

the three inch guys. Where as the three inch guys world is old, almost like

it is in the 10th or 11th century. The world of half inch guys is very

modern. Just like any major city in 20th century America. Only a million

times smaller. But its just like my world in all its tiny detail. The tiny

little skyscrapers tower high, just above my knees. In the high heels they

built for me, my ankles tower over most of their tiny homes. Everything here

is so tiny. There are tiny little cars and tiny little trains, tiny little

buses and best of all tiny little men. A thriving metropolis and I own it all

!

The initial fear, shock, and anxiety the tiny little creatures have when

they look up and see me is worth the whole trip. Watching so many men run

from me in fear of their lives is quite stimulating. I love watching them,

even in all their fear staring at my long, very shapely legs. In their case

very, very, very, long legs. I effortlessly reach down and pick up two little

cars between my fingers. They are empty. I roll the tiny cars into the palm

of my hand and crush them with no effort in my fist. Then smiling I drop the

remains back down on the tiny street.

A tiny bus load full of tiny little people tries to drive by my feet. I

smile as I stop its progress with the toe of my shoe. I reach down and pick

up the 6" long bus. The little bitty tires spin madly in the air. There is a

chorus of screams coming from inside the little bus as I lift it hundreds of

feet in the air. I crush the bus slightly in one hand and watch as all the

tiny men huddle in the aisle. It amazes me how easy I break off the front of

the bus with only my fingers.

I reach in the tiny bus and take the tiny driver between my thumb and

forefinger. In my left hand I'm holding twenty lives in a tiny little bus

down by the hem of my mini skirt. In my right hand I'm holding its driver

hundreds of feet above the ground. I love watching him squirm between my

fingertips, begging me not to crush him to death or drop him to his death to

the street far far , so very far below. I hold him out and look at all the

groveling pleading little men down at my feet. I squeeze the little man

between my fingers. He cries out in agony. In my best Goddess voice I look

down at the tiny multitude and say three words that will cause so much dread

in each of their tiny little lives. "I AM ANGRY !"

I speak these three words and watch in delight as a thousand tiny little

men become panic stricken.

Oh my, whatever have they done to make their huge beautiful ruler angry.

I squeeze the tiny little bus driver between my fingers making him cry out in

pain. I want all these puny guys to here his agony. I want all these puny

guys to know I am indeed angry and mean what I say. So, I will inflict pain

on one of their tiny kind, hundreds of feet above their tiny heads. I squeeze

the tiny little driver again. Only this time I shift his little body between

my long red fingernails and slowly close them on his little belly. He tries

to push them away. There is just no way. This is sort of fun though. Watching

the tiny guy struggle in my fingers for his life. So, I pretend he is

actually pushing my thumbnail away from his tiny body. I even fake a look of

surprise on my face.

But, after a while I get bored with this silly game. So I close my nails

on his little body and crunch him back and forth between them as I hold him

hundreds of feet above the ground. I watch the reaction of all the little

faces far, far below. There is so much terror in each and every one of them.

And all wondering what this terrible giant girl is going to do with the tiny

little driver she now tortures between her fingertips. I squeeze him again

and he screams in pain. Down at my feet a thousand tiny voices scream in

terror and dismay at the same time. Each and every one of them wondering if

I'll crush this poor little guy between my fingers or drop him hundreds of

feet to his death. And its my decision over his life, his death. Both belong

to me. Just like all the tiny lives so far below cowering at my high heel

feet. The very high heels they made for me. The very high heels that brought

them my anger.

But I'm not really angry. They don't know that. I am enjoying myself

quite a lot. I just love the power I have in this tiny world. Making these

little guys think their cruel but beautiful Goddess is angry at them makes

them even more submissive. Like if they had a choice.

I look down at all the huddled masses. "YOU SEE THESE SHOES ON MY FEET !"

They look. "WELL THEY ARE JUST A LITTLE BIT TIGHT." Thousands of moans of

dismay and horror go up in unison.

Amazing! This is so un-real its making my head start to rush! I can't

believe I am standing in the miniature little city. No, I can't believe I am

standing OVER this little miniature city. And I rule over this tiny place

with absolute authority. And I have this whole population in chaos because on

a whim, I thought to inform them that my shoes are tight. A thousand tiny

faces look up at me. Their Empress, their Goddess wondering what terror I'll

bring into their tiny lives. And they can't do a thing to stop me.

Down by the hem of my skirt in my left hand, I hold a bus full of these

tiny little men. Ever so often crushing just a bit just to hear them scream

inside. And in my right hand struggling between my fingertips is the little

driver of the little bus. I think I'll concentrate on him.

I lower the bus back down to the street by my foot. I notice my foot is

actually longer than the bus is. And I watched amused as 20 tiny men scramble

out of its front door. With a slight flick of my ankle I squash the little

bus under my heel. And relish the moans of fear and dread rise up from the

tiny population as I do it. Far, far above their attention is drawn to the

little man in my hands. He constantly looks down from this terrible height

and then up at me, his giant Goddess Queen holding him there. I could easily

crush him in my fingertips like any tiny insect but that would be to quick. I

want to toy with him a while and enjoy watching him cringe, crawl, and beg

for my mercy. I want to feed off his, and the thousands below, fear and

submission. To let them know never to displease their ruler.

I take the tiny shaking man in my left hand. I hold him up to my full

lips and whisper to him. "So my tiny little creature, what should I do to

you. I cup him in my hand. I can't believe he is so tiny. I take my right

forefinger and with one quick motion rip off his tiny little shirt with my

huge red fingernail. Then with the same move off comes his pants. He cries

out each time. I look down at his tiny naked body and grin. Even with a face

so small I can see it get scarlet red. Even in all his fear and agony. It

appears, parts of him are enjoying this.

I have always been able to control men in my normal world. In high school

I could get any guy to do my bidding just by crossing and uncrossing my legs

in class. Each time watching them out of the corner of my eye, squirm in

their desks while I pretended to be lost in my studies. After class any one

of them would do what I ask.

And then there was that boy friend I used to have who would do anything,

anything, for me, if he could watch me cook our dinner wearing nothing but a

T-shirt and high heels.

But I always had to do something to take control. And there was not much

of a feeling of power over anyone. If there was ever any feeling of it at

all. BUT HERE !

Here in this tiny little city I have more power and control than I could

ever imagine possible. That anyone could imagine possible. And even better, I

don't have to do thing to have it. It's mine for the taking simply because of

my size. None of these tiny little men, only half an inch tall, can do a

thing to stop me. How in the world could they. Their only choice is to obey

me. Knowing there is no choice they do what I say. Always !

So there are times when I wield my power because I enjoy it. I like

toying with so many lives.

So I make up things and pretend to be angry. Things like my shoes being

to tight.

I loved watching so much dread, come to so many tiny faces in so quick a

time. And now I'm standing here so tall and gorgeous with a tiny little man's

life in the palm of my huge hand. I watch fascinated as I rise my fingers up

behind his little naked back and watch my huge red nails drop down in front

of him as I hold him in my fist. I can hear his screams coming from inside my

fist. I can feel his tiny little heart beating against my palm. I hold out my

hand and for a moment the tiny crowd below cries out in fear that I am about

to drop their tiny comrade. But I grin down at them and open my hand back up.

The little man is now crying and breathing very hard. How cruel should I be?

Should I be a merciful Goddess and spare his life? Or take it.

I look down at the tiny little multitude huddled at my feet and notice a

new fear cross over all their little faces. I look up and see Monica standing

by my side. She is wearing a red T-shirt with the words '9three "Jazz Fest"

across the front. The shirt is tucked into her skin tight blue jeans. They

really show off her figure. And she has black high heels on her feet.

"I knew you would be here," she says grinning "what are you doing?" I

tell her "These tiny subjects of mine have displeased me and I was about to

punish them." I open my fist and show her the tiny little man kneeling in my

hand.

She smiles down at him very wickedly. "So what are you going to do to

him?" She says chuckling.

I wink at her and watch the tiny little man crawling in my hand begging

for mercy. What pleasure. I look down at the tiny crowd at my feet. "YOU HAVE

MADE ME ANGRY SO THIS POOR MAN MUST PAY THE PRICE!" Monica struggles to

stifle laughing as I tell the poor creatures my verdict.

Several of the poor little things run to my foot wailing and begging me

to spare the poor man's life. After enjoying this for a few minutes, I take

the man in my finger tips. He screams and begs to me. More tiny men are

screaming, begging, crawling down next to my feet.

I take my thumbnail and place it on the tiny man's chest. Its longer than

he is. I drive my nail through him crushing out his life. With really no

effort at all. He lets out a brief scream of pain, then silence. I look at

his tiny limp body on the edge of my fingertips. The tiny faces look up from

below in shear horror. I let him roll off my fingers and watch his lifeless

body fall hundreds of feet to the ground. There is a mad rush of tiny little

men as he falls. He hits their tiny street and I raise my huge foot and crush

his body under the toe of my high heel. Like I would on any annoying insect.

I look down at all the huddled masses cowering so far below. Each one in

complete terror for their lives. "DON'T EVER MAKE ME ANGRY AGAIN. DO YOU

UNDERSTAND!" A thousand tiny bodies fall to their knees at my feet. What

power I have here! Monica reaches down and plucks up 5 little half inch guys

in her hand. She loves it just as much as me. What is she up to?

I watched Monica totally amazed, as she lifts 5 tiny men in her hand. She

watches them all sprawling and squirming in her hand and she giggles. I

notice Monica is just a little mildly drunk.

Holding them up to her huge full red lips she says, "BEG ME TO SPARE YOUR

PUNY LITTLE LIVES!" Tiny screams for mercy rise up from the palm of her hand,

so high above the ground. She reaches down and plucks up one tiny little man

with her long black fingernails. He cries out in terror. She closes her hand

around the other four little guys. "I SAID! BEG ME TO SPARE YOUR LIFE!" There

screams soar to a higher pitch. I notice tiny little arms and legs, even one

tiny little head sticking out between her fingers as she hold these men in

her clutched hand. "TOO BAD," She says, THAT'S NOT GOING TO BE GOOD ENOUGH"

To the horror of the remaining man held like a vice between her fingertips

and to the hundreds below, she crushes to death the four tiny men in her

hand. Just like that.

Laughing she drops their lifeless bodies to the little street below. She

turns her attention to the one poor little bastard she holds in her hand.

The entire tiny nation is standing horrified at what they have just

witnessed, standing at the feet of these two giant girls. And powerless,

absolutely powerless to stop them from doing anything more.

Five of their friends killed because these two huge Goddesses felt like

it. How could two such beautiful girls be so heartless and cruel?

Monica now held the 6th man in the palm of her hand just below her

breast. In her powerfully cruel voice she tells the little shaking man. "I

WANT YOU TO STRIP! NOW!" Monica grins down coldly at him as he removes his

tiny clothes.

With the slight buzz she's feeling and the power she is wielding, I can

tell she's really having a good time.

The little man is now standing in her hand with his head bowed. Totally

nude, totally submissive. He's all hers. "LOOK AT ME SLAVE." Monica orders

him. He raises his little head and looks at her huge beautiful face. Right

into her eyes. This makes Monica smile. Then she starts to laugh.

Then mockingly saying to the tiny man in her hand "OH YOU'RE SO CUTE, I

THINK I COULD EAT YOU ALIVE."

I continued to watch Monica toy with the tiny little man. She looked down

at him staring up at her with so much fear in his little face. Then she

slightly parted her mouth and started to lick her full sensuous lips with the

tip of her tongue. Stopping briefly to laugh when she heard the tiny man cry

out in horror. Then she continued on for a moment closing her huge blue eyes.

I was struck once again on how much she looks like Traci Lords, the

actress we had never seen or heard of till we watched the "Tommyknockers." I

remember how embarrassed she got when I kept teasing her about it. Flattered,

but embarrassed at the same time. You would never have known that about her

watching her here and now.

Monica opened eyes and looked back down at the tiny man. "HOLD YOUR HANDS

OUT TO ME, WORSHIP ME!" She commands him. She smiles down at him as he lifts

up his tiny arms and sends up all his best praises to his Goddess. A very

cruel but beautiful Goddess. In the middle of all his praises, Monica reaches

down and takes one tiny arm between the tips of her long dark fingernails.

She picks the tiny nude man off her hand and lifts him high, and I do mean

high above her head. She dangles him there over 900 feet above the ground,

back and forth, back and forth. Then she slowly starts to lower the poor

little thing to her mouth. He screams in terror when he sees where she is

lowering him to. Monica grins at him in anticipation. Just above her mouth

she quits lowering him and dangles him there for a moment. Then she parts her

lips and licks the bottom of the tiny mans feet. He screams with a new sense

of fear and agony. But above the tiny mans screams and loud enough for all

the tiny men below to hear Monica says "OOH YOU TASTE SOOO GOOD!" Then laughs.

There is a hushed fear of awe as this tiny population watches the

spectacle. High, high above their heads, Monica continues to lick the tiny

man's feet and the tiny man's legs. The little man she holds has gone

completely numb as he dangles there between her fingernails. She squeezes

him. He screams. Still alive Monica finally stops and looks over at me. She

smiles and says "Ummmm, Jean I really love blonds, here try one." She takes

the poor little man and dangles him over to me. I get slightly aroused

watching him struggle against her between, her fingernails, as she holds him

up in front of my big brown eyes. For a moment I wonder why he struggles. If

he could EVER free himself from her he would fall 900 feet to the ground, and

death. But then I quickly realize that to him, that would be better. Much

better than to die the way Monica is planning to kill him.

Monica then holds him up over my head. Then lowers him to my lips and I

let him lay there a moment. I can feel his tiny body trembling there. Monica

lifts him back up and as she does I notice the right side of his tiny body is

covered with my lipstick. Monica holds the little man just above my mouth. I

pucker and kiss the bottom of his tiny, tiny feet. And slowly lick his tiny

legs. Monica takes the tiny man back to her.

"Well," Monica asks me, "what do you think?"

I look right at Monica standing there beaming. "You're right Monica." At

the same time I look down at the tiny multitude of men. I grin wickedly down

at them cowering at my feet. And finish by saying, "THEY TASTE SOOOO GOOD."

The ripple of fear crossing so many tiny faces at one time gives me pleasure.

So, I say it again. "OH MONICA THEY TASTE SOOOOO GOOD." We both crack up. The

tiny men back up.

Monica again raises the tiny little man above her head and dangles him up

there. Then she slowly starts to lower him to her awaiting parted lips. She

is something.

I watch as Monica lowers the tiny man to her lips. Watching him scream.

Monica suddenly stops lowering him just inches above her mouth. She then

grins a terribly wicked grin. And exposing her huge garage door size teeth.

To me Monica looks so pretty when she grins. To the tiny little man she holds

it must be menacing and deadly.

The grin leaves as she slowly opens her mouth. She toys with him for a

moment with her tongue.

Monica then again starts to lower him into her mouth. The poor man

screams, cries in horror. He tries pulling himself up on Monica's finger

nail, but there is just no way.

Like I said, Monica is slightly drunk. She gets so carried away with

this, she stumbles over two buildings. She knocks one tiny building over with

her ankle. The other she completely crushes under her high heel just like a

match box.

She stops with the man for a moment and looks down a what she did. The

tiny population is stunned. I don't know if there was anyone in those two

buildings. No one alive, is in them now. Monica laughs down at the tiny

population of huddled little men. "Jean," she says, "I love this."

Monica lowers the tiny man into her mouth and closes it. Her sexy lips

curl around the tiny man exposing only his head, sticking out between them.

She still holds his pitiful little arm between her nails. She holds him this

way for a while.

I wonder how he feels at this moment. Completely engulfed in Monica's hot

wet mouth.

The tiny population is now terrified beyond their tiny imagination.

Monica lifts the man out of her mouth by his tiny, fragile arm. An arm

that will surely break off at any time held in Monica's vice like grip.

From the neck down the tiny little man is now covered with lipstick. A

tiny little blond white head and a a tiny little dark red body. I am quickly

reminded of photographs of beautiful women with their heads tossed back and

very sexually licking, then eating a cherry. I am seeing the same thing here.

Only the cherry is a tiny, tiny, man. And he's only slightly bigger than a

cherry.

Monica once again lowers him to her lips. How long will she keep on

prolonging this.

"I love being a giant in this little world." Quotes Monica 5-30-93.

"I agree with my friend Monica. I love being a giant in this tiny land.

No one will stop my quest for power. No one CAN stop my quest for power! I

own your people, Craig. I am 5' 9" tall in my bare feet. In my high heels,

they put me well over 6 feet tall. My high heel shoes lift me yards above

your little heads. The taller the better. I love being a giant."

Monica lowered the tiny man back in her mouth. And once again only his

little head and arms stuck out from between her huge full lips. He screamed

and squirmed between them. This only made Monica smile broadly, wickedly. Now

keeping the tiny little thing clinched between her massive teeth. Monica

bites down on him, but only slightly. She giggles still holding the poor

creature in her teeth. Listening to his cries of pain, his pleas of horror.

She reaches down and takes hold of one of his tiny arms and lifts him out

of her mouth, pretending to bite hard at his tinny, tiny legs as they clear

her lips.

She holds the little man high above her head. Then drops him. The tiny

crowd so far below watches stunned as the the man falls to his death. But not

yet. After he falls several feet, Monica catches him in her huge hand.

She takes him between her thumb and forefinger. I again notice her dark

thumbnail is longer or taller than the tiny half inch man she now holds.

With her other hand she takes hold of the tiny man's little arm. And to

the horror of the tiny crowd below at her feet, she pulls it off and drops it

down to them. The poor tiny man cries out in horror and passes out from the

pain. In unison, the tiny population begs her to be merciful to their tiny

comrade.

Monica loves this. A whole tiny world begging her for something. Pleading

to her.

She crushes out the life of this poor little man between her fingertips.

Smiling down at the tiny crowd as she does so. Then dropping his lifeless

body down among them. She looks over at me and says, "I couldn't eat him.

We're not cannibals, we're not savages. "

"We're not that bad." Then she burst out laughing. The tiny multitude

below is watching her in sheer terror and anticipation.

Then she says "Jean, I really, really, love being a giant."

I look down at a thousand stunned, horrified, terrorized, and fearful

little faces. The little faces who just witnessed the wrath of these two huge

Goddesses. Still very beautiful, striking, despite their terrible cruelty.

After enjoying this for a moment. Knowing that a thousand tiny hearts are

beating out of their chest, waiting to see what we will do next, I finally

speak to them. "YOU MUST APPEASE ME FOR BRINGING ON MY ANGER" I can't believe

I'm talking this way.

But I guess this is how these tiny things think I would talk.

"I WANT YOU TO MAKE ME A SOLID GOLD CHAIN."

"IT MUST BE A LEAST TWENTY FEET LONG."

"AND STRONG ENOUGH TO MOOR YOUR TINY LITTLE SHIPS. I'LL WEAR IT AROUND MY

ANKLE."

"GET TO WORK NOW!" The tiny world flees to begin their task. To follow MY

orders, without protest, without question. This is power, this is great.

Laughing, Monica and I turn to leave. Monica crushes another house as we

leave.

"Why did you do that?" I ask her.

"Because I felt like it." She answers.

On our way back to the magic portal we have to go through the land of the

three" guys. We step over the wall of the half" guys and re-enter their land.

Cowering up against the wall is a tiny little three" man. So, small I miss

even seeing him. But Monica sees him as she stops to take off her high heels

complaining that part of the roof of the house she just crushed into

splinters got, caught in her shoe.

"LOOK WHAT WE HAVE HERE, JEAN." I look and see the tiny, tiny man hiding

in the shadows of the little wall. Monica grins down at him watching him

shake in fear. She knocks him off his itty bitty feet with her huge toe. He

climbs to his feet again and she nudges him with her toe once again, taking

delight in how easily she can put him on his knees.

Suddenly Monica's grin changes from wicked to curious. She takes out her

cigarette lighter and stoops down lighting it next to the now horrified

little man. Her lighter is about the same height as the man. She holds the

flame close to him and he cowers from the heat of it's hot flame.

Monica smiles and blows out the lighter with her sexy lips. She gets to

her feet and looks at me. "Jean do you realize I know that little bastard. "

She looks back down at the tiny man smiling. Once again she knocks him to the

ground with her toe. "Jean, did I ever tell you how I love being a giant!

The poor little guy, for the third time, struggles to his feet. "Yea

Jean, " she says, "I know that puny little bastard! But I wonder how he got

so tiny?"

Monica reaches down to grab the little guy and he tries to run from her

enormous fingers. But he's so small, so slow, there's no way. She easily

catches up to him, and grabs him with ease between her fingertips. She picks

him up and holds him close to her lovely face. "WELL, WELL, WELL, BRAD. ISN'T

IT A SMALL WORLD." Then she laughs at him.

From between her finger a very tiny voice emerges. "Monica, how did you

become a giant?. How did you become so huge?"

Monica blows in his little face. Her hot breath washes all over his tiny

little body.

"HEY WAKE UP BRAD, I HAVEN'T GOTTEN BIGGER, YOU'VE GOTTEN SMALLER." She

laughs at him again. The little man violently fights against Monica's fingers

trying desperately to loosen her grip. She hardly notices. In fact she takes

great pleasure in watching him try. She grins down at him more wickedly than

ever as he continues to battle against her. "BRAD YOU TINY LITTLE INSECT, DO

YOU HONESTLY THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY FROM ME? YOU'RE MINE LITTLE MAN, BODY AND

SOUL!"

Monica finally looks over at my curious face. She holds the man up to my

face. He still struggles between her fingers and I notice how her black nails

curve all around his tiny body. So cruel and wicked looking as the tiny man

pushes on them. But they don't even budge. As if nothing was pushing on them

at all. But in reality a very tiny little man was fighting for his tiny

little life right there between her long cruel fingernails.

Monica says to me with anger in her voice, "Do you see this tiny

ass-hole." She squeezes the tiny ass-hole between her fingers and he screams

in pain. "Do you see him Jean? I used to date this prick in high school." She

squeezes the tiny prick even harder this time and she stops a minute to watch

him wither in the agony she so enjoys causing him to have. "THIS LITTLE SHIT

WAS ONE ARROGANT SON OF A BITCH!" Her voice was now getting louder and

angrier. She squeezed the little shit for the third time and he screams

shudders and passes out from the pain. His little body slumping limp between

Monica's huge fingertips.

"Is he dead?" I ask. Monica looks at me and smiles.

"No, but soon Jean, soon."

We are back at my place. We've crossed back into our world. Once again

just your average American girls. Monica brought along with her a small token

of that tiny place. Little Brad lays on the table in front of her. Still out

from all the pain she so unmercifully inflicted on him.

With a tiny gasp, the tiny man comes out of the darkness. Monica shows

off a great big smile and leaves the room. The poor little guy stands up, but

he can't go anywhere. He's hundreds of feet above the floor. Where could he

go, what could he do?

I watch him amused as fear comes to his face when music starts to drift

through from the other room. Monica has put on a Pink Floyd CD and is playing

the song "Comfortably Numb". Why would that song cause so much fear in the

tiny little man. Then suddenly Monica appears in the doorway and his fear

turns to terror. She has taken off her jeans and is now only wearing panties

and her "Jazz Fest '9three" T-shirt.

Relishing the terror of the man she slowly walks over to him. She looks

down at him smiling. A very cold and wicked smile. Her shapely thighs tower

over him on the table. And I watch her admire the sight. Her thighs huge and

gorgeous right next to him so small and puny. He is completely overwhelmed.

Monica sits down before this tiny little man. She starts to swoon with the

guitar screams of "Comfortably Numb". The little man watches in fascination

as this huge giant girl leans back her head and starts to rub her breast. The

guitar in the music starts to soar, so does Monica. Finally she stops and

looks down at the tiny little man and says,

"DO YOU REMEMBER THAT SONG BRAD?" He grasps his tiny head between his

tiny hands and screams. Monica laughs at him as she lights a cigarette.

Monica takes a slow, deliberate drag on her cigarette, cocks back her

head and blows out the smoke. She looks down at tiny Brad on the table. After

all these years she has him where she wants him. "DON'T YOU DARE MOVE AN INCH

FROM WHERE YOU STAND LITTLE MAN!" She commands. OR I'LL SQUASH YOU LIKE AN

ANT WITH MY THUMB. YOU UNDERSTAND ME!"

"Yes," came a very small weak reply.

Monica raised the cigarette once again to her lips. Then she leaned over

and down to the man. Fear grips his tiny body, but he dares not move. Her

face towers above him and her long blond hair hangs all around him. Her full

sensuous pink lips are only inches away from tiny little Brad. Then slowly

puckering her lips in a very sexy way she slowly blows hot blue smoke all

over the tiny man. He screams from the heat and falls back from the force of

her breath. She slowly rises back away from the table grinning down wickedly

at the poor man's plight. She settles back down into her chair and laughs at

him. As he coughs, screams and begs her to stop.

After a while the man settles back on his feet and looks up at her. With

so many pleas in his tiny eyes. Monica looks at him. Smiling down at him she

says, "I REMEMBER YOU ALWAYS LIKED MY LEGS BRAD." Saying that she lifts her

huge shapely left leg and brings it down on the table right next to the tiny

man. She puffs on her smoke as she watches him cringe as she lays her leg by

his little body. Grinning, she lifts up her right leg and places it on the

other side of Brad. "WELL," She says, "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THEM NOW?"

She laughs again as she crosses and uncrosses her feet, rising so high

behind his tiny body. The man is standing now between Monica's well shaped

calves. And they are gorgeous. Long, hard and tan. I watch the man's tiny

face as he looks down the very long, very huge, corridor of Monica's legs. He

is so tiny standing there between them. But, I can see that the frightened

pleas that were in his eyes before has now turned to lust. Monica sees it

too. "YOU STILL LIKE THEM DON'T YOU BRAD"

He doesn't say anything. Afraid of what she might do. She cocks her right

knee and now her gigantic foot is right next to him. Then very slowly she

grabs grabs him between two of her huge toes. He struggles to free himself.

No way! Clutching him between her toes this way she extends her leg high

above her head. "HOW DO THEY LOOK FROM UP THERE YOU INSECT!"

The tiny man cries out in panic as Monica holds him so high above her

head. Hundreds of feet above the floor. "I SAID HOW DO MY LEGS LOOK FROM UP

THERE YOU WORTHLESS LITTLE INSECT." She squeezes him between her huge toes

and he shouts in pain. She laughs once again. Still holding her leg up she

starts to rub her thigh between her hands slowly, up and down. Still holding

the cigarette between her fingers. Still holding a tiny tiny man between her

toes. "Well I think I have great legs." She lowers her foot and places it on

her left knee. She looks down at him. She squeezes him again. He cries out

again. Watching the tiny man scream and struggle between her powerful toes,

fighting against them with all his strength, for all his life, I find

somewhat erotic. Such lovely feet, such lovely red toes, now crushing away

slowly, a man's life. Monica slowly rises her foot and still clutching the

man, lowers her ankle to the table. She slowly starts squeezing poor tiny

Brad for the third time. Only this time she does not stop so soon. She starts

squeezing a little harder and he starts to scream from the pain. I look at

her and can tell she's starting to get turned on. Her nipples are really

starting to show through her tight t-shirt. Her toes clamp down on the tiny

man's chest even more and screams intensify. He pushes at them with his tiny

hands but they don't move. They don't even budge. I continue to watch them as

the little man struggles against her and Monica slowly massages her thigh.

And with each stroke she slowly moves up closer and closer to her panties.

Monica's favorite part of the song "Comfortably Numb" is also the guitar

solo at the end. In fact she waited till that part started before she entered

back into the room with tiny, oh so tiny Brad.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE IT BRAD!" Monica says to the tiny man she's crushing

between her toes. His tiny face almost as red as the huge toenails now

gripping him. She leans over and crushes out her cigarette. "I SAID, HOW DO

YOU LIKE IT BRAD!" she tightens her hold on him again. She starts massaging

her thighs again. Still moving higher along them as she does. Brad finally

screams from the pain, "Oh please Monica please!"

"REMEMBER WHEN I PLEADED TO YOU, YOU TINY WORM."

"NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS, BUT YOUR NOT PLEADING FOR A LOVE LOST. YOU'RE

BEGGING ME FOR YOUR LIFE." She says this with no anger, no emotion. She stops

massaging her thighs for a moment and just watches him for a moment. Looking

at her former lover. A man who had spurned her, and betrayed in another time.

Now she had this same man trapped between her huge toes. Making him pay for

what he did to her. Monica grins down at his tiny shaking body. "YOU KNOW

BRAD THAT BODY OF YOURS AT ONE TIME GAVE ME AN AWFUL LOT OF PLEASURE."

"I THINK IT STILL WILL AS I WATCH IT DIE BETWEEN MY TOES." She slowly

starts to squeeze him for the last time. He starts to wither and squirm from

the pain.

"Oh please Monica, don't do this, oh please no. I am so sorry, please!!!"

These tiny words drift up to Monica between the cries of pain.

She looks down at him and smiles. She takes her hand and puts it under

her panties. And she slowly starts to massage between her legs. She smiles at

him in all his agony and says, "I WAS RIGHT, BRAD IT STILL DOES." Monica

laughs still massaging herself only a little harder now. All the time

watching the tiny little man as she slowly crushes him between her toes.

I turn to leave, I'm going now Monica."

She turns and looks at me just for a moment and says, "Do me a favor,

start 'Comfortably Numb' over again on the disc player.

I go and do this for her and hear her start to moan with pleasure along

with the tiny poor man's cries of pain. I start up the haunting song and

leave. I know it's old and cliche but I think this thought when I leave. You

know it couldn't happen to a nicer fellow.

When I returned home I found Monica still seated where I left her. She

was all stretched out with her feet on the table. Her legs were crossed at

the ankles. Tiny Brad lay motionless next to her enormous feet. Her eyes are

closed and she had a very dreamy expression on her face. "Monica?" I say

almost in a whisper.

She opens her eyes and looks at me. "Oh, hi Jean" she says with that old

sweet smile. "Monica, is little Brad here, dead?"

"NO" she says with a yawn, "passed out from the pain again."

"This was the third time, but he's not coming back around as quickly this

time."

Monica puts her feet on the floor and stretches her back. "Jean, would

you pour me a big glass of wine?" She lights a Marlboro. "I'm going to toss

little Brad here into my wine glass. When the cold wine brings him back

around I'll toy with him for a moment, then I'm going to drown him in it and

lovingly drink the glass empty afterwards."

I go to the 'fridge and take out a bottle of wine and pour Monica a

glass. I walk back over to her and hand it to her.

She now has her feet back on the floor and is leaning over the tiny,

still limp, body of Brad. She has her right hand tucked under her chin and

she absent-mindedly pokes and flicks Brad's tiny little body with a long

black fingernail of her left hand. Still he doesn't move.

Monica takes the wine from me and picks up her tiny, former lover at the

same time. She takes a sip of the cool wine and then plops little Brad down

in her glass. The cold wine brings the tiny guy back around very quickly.

Monica smiles cruelly down at him as he struggles there in the blond liquid.

She sticks one huge finger into the glass and starts to twirl the wine around

in the glass. She does this very slowly. "WELL WELCOME BACK BRAD," she mocks

to him, "I THOUGHT YOU LEFT ME."

"NOW YOU ARE." She laughs as she watches him continue to struggle for his

life in the whirlpool she has created.

I really loved watching Monica toy with the little man in her wine glass.

Her power over his life really turns me on!

Then suddenly she stops twirling her finger in the glass and the wine

becomes calm. Tiny Brad breathes a momentary sigh of relief. Monica takes

another sip of wine. Beautiful mouth. Little Brad is almost engulfed into her

sensuous lips.

"NOW'S THE TIME BRAD!" She happily tells him. And takes her long dark

fingernail of her right forefinger and pushes Brad's tiny body down under the

wine in her glass. With no, NO, effort at all against his desperate struggle

against her. He pushes at her nail, she grins. He grasps for breath and tries

to free himself under her finger, and she laughs. After several seconds,

watching the poor little man, in vain, try to get away from under her hold,

she drowns him under her fingertip. Dead, gone, goodbye Brad.

His sorry little body floats to the top of Monica's wine glass and she

reaches in and picks him up.

She squeezes his wet lifeless body over her glass and wine and blood and

anything else drops down into it. And then she drinks the whole thing. I

watch as Monica drops what is left of Brad's body to the floor. Then crushes

him under her bare feet.

Another cliche comes to my mind. "Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned."

I am so turned on watching her that I return to the land of the half inch

guys, wanting them to displease me. I want the ankle bracelet to be flawed so

I can rage my wrath on them. And enjoy myself doing it.

--- THE END ---

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