The Last of the Micrins (Chapter 14)

(Head's up: Things get steamy between a giant couple during these concluding chapters, so fair warning if that's not your thing)

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Immediately, the pooled oil began to run in different directions, spreading itself gradually over the giantess’s gluteal geometry like a paint splatter, before Gale even laid a hand upon her here. Though the micrins tried to thrash their way out of the glop and shore themselves upon her bare skin before it was too late, several including Mark found themselves stickily carried down the rounded slope of her vast buttock toward that flesh-clenched fault line between. Working together, hand-in-hand, most of them managed to get clear in time to fearfully scale back up the hill. Just before Mark could evacuate the oil river, however, Gale’s enormous hands swooped in as if by divine intervention and grabbed both sides of the giantess’s roomy beautifully-sculpted cheeks. The masseur not only clenched her bubble booty, but fondled and jiggled it about to playful excess, which inadvertently caused a fast-panicking Mark to slide the rest of the way down into Diana’s crack. Though his lowly size and the tender yield of her deepest posterior brawn meant that the micrin avoided injury either from his landing in the valley or from the mushing clap of those derriere walls each time Gale squeezed again, the vibrating unrest of her hindquarters took all limited control away from her unnoticed ass-entrenched captive. In a blink, Mark was tossed right onto the dark puckered mouth of the woman’s increasingly-relaxed anus, and just as that humid stronger-scented sinkhole widened in answer to the looming giant’s massage technique, his top half was swallowed inside her hole.

This seemed like the end to Mark. He’d marched through the forest, seen many micrins perish, been taken alive, then survived for three days wearing himself ragged with sleepless oil-swimming, only to be helplessly ingested into the foulest opening on their gargantuan malicious doom-bringer’s body. It was almost too depressing to be believed. His fall inside her was broken, however, when he felt tiny hands gripping his leg. A selfless fellow micrin had followed him down into the canyon, it turned out, and grabbed hold of him while perched on the wrinkled precipice of Diana’s pulsing asshole just before Mark could plunge beyond reach. After a combined struggle, he was pulled high enough again to climb free, though they were hardly safe yet. Mark reached out his hand to aid his rescuer in kind, only to find the limited light which penetrated between the giantess’s cheeks snuffed out, as Gale’s hand descended right down the center, with his beefy middle finger extended. Moving as quickly as he could, Mark still wasn’t in any league capable enough to stop the squealing micrin from becoming stuck upon the broad oiled-up tip of the giant’s finger and then ruthlessly thrust straight down into Diana’s receptive backside orifice for a stimulating in-and-out plunge that went well-beyond the bounds of an ordinary platonic massage. The giantess’s entire body, but particularly the deep damp ravine separating her pouty tush-cheek dunes, quaked ravenously both from her full-frame shivers and her echoing moans of encouraging pleasure.

Still, despite avoiding the same anal burial as his peer, Mark couldn’t evade the return journey of Gale’s digits, as they glided back through her crack straight toward him. The leftover oil and sheer momentum of the unwitting giant’s hand caused the micrin to adhere for what felt like a leap into the clouds, even though it was only an airborne voyage above the bed lasting for ten seconds at most, before the masseur’s familiar grip found its way to Diana’s now-exposed lower abdomen, once the smugly-smiling beauty had revolved into a supine repose. The fact that Mark was still alive right now, wiped clean against the Amazonian volleyballer’s washboard midriff inside another unspooling splatter of massage fluid without being pulverized dead by Gale’s hand in the process, was a miracle almost as shell-shocking as the revelation that such giants existed in the first place. But the survival-guilty micrin was far from safe yet.

After such a traumatic whiplashing warp from Diana’s ass cheeks to just above her navel, Mark vulnerably laid in the fetal position amongst the plastered smear of oozing oil, just struggling to regain control of his faculties again so he could try fleeing, while he still had the chance. It was a wonder he’d lasted this long already without being mistakenly smushed to liquid by Gale’s next palm stroke. Yet try as he might to control the dread and make his extremities leap into action, he simply couldn’t budge. For all that sensible life-preserving logic Mark had displayed while trapped in the jar, encouraging his fellow captives to stay focused and in-control for their own good, that discipline was lost to him now. It felt like the world itself was being ripped apart out from under him, even though he was merely stuck in the middle of their gorgeous but dark-hearted hostess’s sensual de-stressing activity. So all he could do was writhe upon the athletic topography of Diana’s warm stomach flesh as it rose and fell with increasing libido-assisted rapidity. And then ultimately look up in time to see the not-so-happy ending of the massage forebodingly commence like a gathering thunderstorm.

Gale had withdrawn both hands from his grateful subject, not because he was through touching her however, but rather to even the playing field. Diana watched, as did all of the still-living micrins spread at random across the giantess’s shining oiled-up complexion, as the hunky long-haired masseur stripped away his own clothing, piece by piece. His immense Hawaiian-Herculean physique was even more imposing once bared as nakedly as Diana’s. Though of course she looked upon him with a passionate transfixing zeal behind her gaze, while the dozens of micrins scattered over by bodily landscape – unseen by Gale – conversely screamed bloody-murder for mercy that was almost certain never to come. Though Mark didn’t cry out, he felt a lump in his throat that almost choked him once he laid eyes upon the mountainous slung-out monolith of the giant visitor’s frightfully well-endowed member, the bulge of which was apparent through clothes, but couldn’t truly be appreciated for the monstrous beast it was until he’d shed himself of his garb. Mark gulped, but the certainty of annihilation only intensified as Gale lumbered back toward the bed, with his oblivious attention fixated eye-to-eye with Diana. This meant the giant was blissfully unaware of the many horrified fully-alive entities suddenly caught between the gradually-enclosing plains of two titanic naked bodies, as he climbed onto the bed and mounted his client with aching slowness.

Diana and Gale weren’t immediately united in horned-up fluid-dripping congress, as the masseur took his time in lowering himself down to her, letting their breathing align. Still, all the buildup in the world wouldn’t have been long enough for the multitudes of short-lived micrin survivors still perched across the giantess’s shoulders, chest, stomach, hips, thighs, and loins to make their way to safety. And there were only seconds to react. Many did their best to scurry away, but could only helplessly trip and slide amongst the massage oil just long enough to be clamped into two bloodied dimensions by the amorous pair’s astronomic figures. Mark, currently sprawled atop one of the low-rounded summits constituting the colossal homeowner’s lovely-toned six pack, dove down the shallow slope of her smooth flesh to take shelter in the slightly-lower valley between divots. Sluggish as he’d been until now, his temporary escape came not a moment too soon, as Gale’s fully erect citadel of a vein-striped cock swung far overhead, with the mass of that dusky length and the giant’s whole beefy torso ominously overshadowing Diana’s abdomen.

While Mark’s quick lunge prevented him from being instantly turned into a fine powder as the giant let his vigorously girthed rock-hard dong slap down upon her stomach like the blunt end of a bullwhip, the margin of space between Gale’s hard-on and Diana’s midriff was narrow enough that the entrapped micrin was stuck in contact with them both, akin to a coffin made from shifting tectonic plates, only textured like soft yet well-muscled flesh. What’s more, that near-miss survival didn’t mean an end to his troubles, as Mark felt the collapsed tower of the masseur’s raging boner gliding backward now from whence it came. Though the giant was caressing his member down Diana’s stomach just slowly enough that the unnoticed micrin sandwiched between their anatomy there wasn’t outright mulched, the combined friction-grind and culling of massage oil – much like when Gale’s finger teased along the giantess’s crack before – again couldn’t be outfought. Squirming and clawing in a pointless bid to get away, Mark was gummed upon the brawny underside of the enormous visitor’s probe and pitifully dragged toward the peak of the arch between Diana’s luscious legs.

Just as he was pulled down onto gentle slant of delicate flesh where the giantess’s under-belt physiology formed into her most sensitive region, though, the micrin made his last attempt to keep himself from being shoved deep into yet another of her openings. He could see the pulsating edifice of Diana’s vulva below, and knew that at any instant, Gale’s member would cruise directly inside – taking any unlucky stowaways into the humid feminine darkness along with it. With the last of his stamina, then, Mark flung himself around the shape of the towering homeowner’s engorged clit just as his body was carried past the fleshy hood, and grappled on for all he was worth. By hanging for dear life, squeezing himself to Diana’s erogenous nub so tight it felt like rictus setting in, the micrin came unpeeled from the frosting of coconut-heady oil now conveniently lubed over Gale’s whole shaft just before its thick mushroom-headed tip parted the giantess’s readied labial curtains and entered her with a gasping expulsion of pre-emptive excitement from them both that briefly drowned out the terrified howls of the micrin remnants not yet squashed to death between them.