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by Trisha Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #1929061
An interactive shrinking story by TinyGirl! Erotic action with small women!
This choice: "....Yes. You are right. I shall kill you then."  •  Go Back...
Chapter #4

Trampled by the Amazon Ant Woman

    by: Reductotron Author IconMail Icon
Upon hearing your pleas, the ant-sized amazon lets out a defeated sigh. “…YES. YOU ARE RIGHT.” Were your fists not busy shielding your ears, they might have been pumping in celebration. Your quick thinking just saved you from a life of microscopic slavery!

But what role would you have instead? If you’re too small to work, maybe you’ll be her pet, or toy, or—
"I SHALL KILL YOU THEN.” Her voice interrupts.

In an instant your blood runs cold. You run to the ear trumpet and begin to beg. “N-no! Please, let me live! I can help you, I—“

SILENCE!!” Your titanic tormentor’s command shakes you to the ground. On your back and away from the ear trumpet, you are entirely at her mercy now.

“INSOLENT LITTLE HUMAN… IF YOU SERVE NO PURPOSE IN THIS WORLD, YOU ARE NOTHING.”

As if you didn’t feel small enough, the ant-sized amazon stands up straight, her height doubling in an instant. One of her colossal legs swings around, the ensuing air current sends you tumbling around helplessly. Once you regain your bearings, you look up to see the woman has… taken off her sandal?

“Farewell, trespasser… Pray you don’t survive this.”

You’re out of range of the ear trumpet, but that doesn’t stop your desparate pleas as a bare foot the size of a city block drops onto you and your world goes dark.

You black out from the sudden impact, and wake up a few moments later… though you almost wish you hadn’t. It seems whatever spell the magic powder cast on you had made you more durable in exchange. That was the only logical explanation for how you were still alive, lodged between two of her colossal toes.

Even then, this newfound durability couldn’t save you from any of the other downsides of this fate. The pungent aroma of the ant woman’s feet, the nauseating rocking caused by her leisurely stroll, the earth-shattering thuds brought about by each footstep.

“Please… help…” you call to no one in particular, as you hope for some end to this nightmare…
*Noteb* indicates the next chapter needs to be written.
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