Blobskin's Macro/Micro Flash Fics

Version: 1.01

His meeting with Sombra had started off well.

The new dark empress had made time in her busy schedule of oppression and mind control to see him during dinner. However, the huge mare's private chamber only had a table for one. So Anon was trapped sitting along the edge closest to her chest. Which was unfortunate because she chewed her lettuce and carrots rather loudly.

"Man, she is a sloppy eater," the mite-sized human commented. Of course Sombra didn't hear him and merely continued to munch away.

Anon, eager to get a word in about freedom and other nonsense, stood up and cleared his throat as loudly as he could. "Excuse me your Supreme Eminence!" he called.

The dark mare paused to look down, her cheeks dotted with white dressing from her salad. "What?" she asked dryly.

"Uh," Anon's mind temporarily went blank as he stared upwards. Those pupils that looked down upon him. That red horn hanging like a meteor in orbit. That muzzle as big as a skyscraper. "Can we start the meeting?"

Sombra hummed. Then Anon felt the table quiver beneath his feet as she scooted away several inches. He would have complained, but his protests were quickly silenced by the view. Hanging there in front of him, clad in a heavy chainmail bra, were two great breasts. A canyon of inky black fur where every hair was as tall as himself. Every subtle movement the Empress made caused her enormous bust to sway like a tantalizing pendulum.

Suddenly, there was a loud clang as Sombra put down her fork and leaned forward to grab a napkin. The heavy chains rattled so loud that the small human had to cover his ears and step back from the edge. Then the wall of metal crashed into the wood and toppled the man over. In the distance, Sombra's hand seized an expensive red cloth and began to furiously wipe at her muzzle. As she leaned back, chunks of lettuce, carrots, and cheese crashed around Anon like a hailstorm. The man flew to his feet and danced back and forth to avoid the falling debris as the careless woman stared at the far wall, her mind empty.

Darn it, woman! Watch what you're doing! You have a guest! a tiny guest, Anon mentally stormed.

"Sombra, please!" he cried. "This is hardly--woah!" Anon yelped as a log of cheese crashed beside him. "--appropriate treatment of an ambass--wait!!" The tiny human covered his head just before a huge red sheet knocked him to the ground and pinned him under a metric ton of dirty napkin.

The smell of dressing overwhelmed Anon's nose, causing him to cough. His chest hurt from the initial impact but nothing seemed broken. The cloth must have been a foot thick and his arms strained to move it even a degree. Then he felt it. The cloth was wet and some sticky fluid was oozing through the ceiling onto his cloths. "Ew, what the?" he gagged as a stench far less pleasant than before began to waft over him. As he struggled to find an exit, he could feel his world vibrate with Sombra's giggles. "Grr, that woman."

"Let me help you with that," she offered cheekily. Suddenly, his red prison was flying into the air with him along for the ride!

"Wait, Sombra don't!!" His guts felt like they were being squished into his legs as he held onto the fabric for all he was worth. Not so easy when every seam oozed a sticky, foul smelling fluid he could only guess was mare spit.

Dizzy and angry, Anon could hear the napkin being unfolded as the Empress searched for him. In the meantime, he tried not to lose his lunch. "Oh, my new shirt. My SHOES!" he cried. They were soaking with saliva and... was that a crumb? "Ugh, SOMBRA!"

"There you are," she declared as a blast of light blinded the man.

Anon tried to shield his eyes, but just as quickly as it had appeared, the light vanished. He blinked upward and found a pair of fingers reaching for him. "Ah!" he screamed as the apartment-sized digits clamped onto his arm and hoisted him into the air.

A dry gag popped out of Anon as vertigo set in again. Sombra was not good at being gentle apparently. "Please, Miss Sombra," he swallowed. "I am very small and very fragile. Could you be just a little bit more considerate?"

The mare's eyes stared at him for a moment. Sombra's bottom lip puffed and a finger tapped her chin while she regarded his request. The repeated thumping sound partially distracted Anon from the pain shooting from where his arm had almost been ripped from its socket. He then slowly rocked back and forth as giant Sombra breath shot past him in huge gusts. Her nostrils were like enormous caverns into a forbidden world. Her fur coat was like a dense forest.

Anon looked up at the fingers holding him. Those fingernails were pretty far away and the skill and care that had gone into them was visible even from his scale. No grime or dirt. A perfect seam where nail met flesh and then fur. Anon grunted with boredom. Was she going to do something or just hang him here all day?

"Nah," she eventually sassed, nearly exploding his eardrums.