Little Man

I am her little man. She is my queen. I love her and she loves me. We have known each other always and always will. No one shall take her from me.

Look at Frank, a useless writhing fuckbag on the floor.

She is normal-sized.

I am small enough to sunbathe on her painted fingernail.


Sometimes she brings paper clips from the office. She deforms them for me. I grab one end, the other she hooks onto her collar, and down its arc I slide until reaching the end, gently deposited into her cleavage.

Frank wanted to fuck. Fuck you, Frank.

I love her breasts. The warmth and softness of her flesh. The way she sighs when I climb her nipples.

At night, I wade through her pubic hair, fold open her labia and enter.

Inside is where I sleep.

It’s safe inside.

I like the caverns, where I can lose myself in the darkness and slide into the pillowy creases of her innermost anatomy.

Frank can’t stop screaming because Frank can’t stop bleeding because Frank is oozing onto the carpet.

She met Frank a month ago. It had been almost a year since the last one. I had hoped she was finished with them, but one day there he was. They work together. Frank has two children. Frank isn’t right for her.

At night, Frank invades her with his cock. His hideous fat worm with its horrible puke-hole.

Sometimes the worm wears its skin.

Sometimes it deposits within.

I scrape her clean of this despicable slime. I protect her.

Kaboom! There goes the worm—shower of bloody pulp! Hands feeling emptiness…

I did what was necessary. Some of the tools I improvised, like the tiny rock-climbing hammers. Others I purchased online, stomping over her keyboard while she was out with Frank. Explosives can be ordered in trace amounts. Some are potent.

I trained for it.

I waited for the perfect moment—

And when Frank fucked his cock into the caverns, I acted—

Latching onto it!

Riding the worm in and out, pressed against the cavern walls.

“Oh, Frank. My God, Frank…”

Waiting until the worm bucked and tensed and puked its slime, and then I maneuvered to the head of the shrinking beast, my backpack securely attached, and dove into its maw.

Up, I slithered—

Using the rock hammers to hasten my ascent.

Stabbing—the inner urethra—



Until I reached my destination. My hands shaking, space tight, unfastening the backpack, which housed the explosive, setting the bespoke timer. Hearing it start to beep…

Beep-beep, Beep-beep…

Then sliding down, and out, and falling: Frank’s shocked face contorting: “What the fuck?”

The pain of impact—cushioned by the high pile of the rug.

Beep-beep, Beep-beep, Beep—

Frank’s crotch exploded.

Fireworks of skin and castration.

His grimace.

His fingers desperately trying to contain what’s already all over the bedroom.

Nothing left but warm stains.

As I gaze upon my queen. No one shall take her from me!