And don’t let go..I said something out loud, something dangerous
Something she intentionally misconstrued
The way she loves to do
She said, “Okay, if that’s what you want…”
And then she drank, and made me drink
And then she sat on me
Suddenly
Without warning
Without a thought about my size
She hid me from the world
This is not what I meant, I thought
But the pulsating tomb of her ass is always
Better than precise understanding
Better than literal meaning
Better than my careless words
Her hips spread on her couch, on me
And I waited to run out of air
I never did
In the darkness, in the heat, under the weight of the world
She watched TV, she read, she talked on the phone
And every slurred word traveled from her lips to my body
Drums of war that never stopped
She shifted, she rocked, she found me every time
She flattened all but one thing
For an eternity
Until she stood up
With my body in tow, indented, imprinted
In her cheek
But then she walked and shook me loose
Sway and never-ending jiggle
That unglued my numb limbs
But one
I grappled with fingers too small
I unpeeled from her with an invisible sound
And fell
Until my fingers worked
The weave of her panties the thread
And I the needle
Drunk, I held on through every bounce
Her ass pushed me away and my grip pushed back
Like a feather in the wind
But I held on
And called her every name
Begged every word
As she staggered past dark hallways
To the dim light of her bedroom
And didn’t think to look for me
As she crashed into bed
And drifted off to sleep
On her side
On my body
My head free to scream, to fear, to beg, to weep
Hug the Undersquid 
He could have let go. She gave him a chance. He picked his poison.
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True, and who wants to write about a tiny man that lets go? I don’t. I don’t even want to draw that guy. I like drawing and writing about tiny people that have a good grip on who they are.
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OH. MY. GOD. Speechless. These words paired with that pic make it impossible for my brain to process information or think of anything else.
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Thank you, hopier! Glad you enjoyed it. 👍🏻
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I love this illustration. It’s a fantastic adventure I’ve dreamed about, climbing up the round backside of a giantess. Whether she’s in jeans or lacy panties or a thong, or if I’m dangling from an errant backpack strap while she takes the bus, or if I’m even just pulling myself up by very long hair spilling down her back, I’ve fantasized many, many times about being positioned right there. I’ve dreamed about the conflicting drives of bouncing against a big, round, sweet butt and multifarious other dangers: getting sat on, falling and getting stepped on, getting plucked away by someone else in the area, getting found out by the giantess and incurring her wrath. That all makes it that much more exciting, of course.
Thank you for your hypnotic prose. I can’t believe there’s a giantess who wants the other side of this scenario as badly as I crave my role. You are such a miracle, my friend. This story deserves to be purred into a microphone and cleaned up in post, maybe with a predatory jazz track behind it, drum-and-bass. This adventure you tell like a poem… so much going on here. His mercurial perspective, his shifting wants and fears, even as her own caprices are communicated right exclusively through the conduct of her rear. You’re doing so much with this, it’s incredible.
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I like the idea of a backpack strap. It tells a very nice story of a meet-cute of sorts. The impact of that initial interaction is so dramatic I’m always sorry my female character misses it entirely, and more often than not doesn’t even know it’s taking place. But that’s a small price to pay for the later fun I like to write about.
Thank you for your very sweet comment. I like the idea of making this into a voice file! I haven’t made one of those in years, and you’re right, this lends itself to that perfectly. I can’t fully picture the soundtrack for it, but deep beats are a must. In fact, I’m going to go try it now!
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The meet-cute. I love that term but I don’t think I’ve purposely employed it, mindfully. Something like this kicked off one of my favorite, formative stories, “Change for 22” by Chelgi. There was a wonderful sequence of him nearly getting sat on by a woman, then clinging to her skirt and ending up in her possession. He was a young college student and she was a PSEO student, but that seemed less sketchy when I was closer to that age.
Well, there’s only one thing for you to do, Twin-Brain: write a story in which the man believes he’s hanging from the giantess’s butt undetected, but she knows he’s there and is only posing obliviousness. She undertakes certain actions, motions, activities designed alternately to tease him and arouse herself. He might have some suspicions after a while, but she reads him clearly right through her butt and modifies her activity accordingly. How’s that sound? I know you can do it.
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Nope. Bad. The audio sounds gross. I can’t do tiny-man perspective. I have to do my own perspective to sound right.
Challenge accepted. I have a very firmly placed to-write list, but this has been added. : )
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