"Coach, I expect you to deliver the swimmers best in all four strokes at the end of the table in thirty seconds." You say to the shrunken women, as the coach does such, giving you four swimmers on the edge of the table in very quick time, probably fearful that you would do to her as you did to her pupil with red hair. You look down at the pretty young women in their one piece swimsuits as they try not to cry.
"Which of you is fastest in freestyle?" You ask as a blonde girl with thick thighs emerges. You smile as you grow the girl to normal size. She is amazed, looking around at the normal room.
"Can I leave miss?" She asks, happily. You snap your fingers and watch as she is removed of her free will, and fell on the floor as nothing but a lifeless husk, inanimate yet fully aware at what was happening. You laughed as she remained on the floor and you looked down at the three left.
"Alright, butterfly?" You asked as a black girl stepped out, terrified of what you would do to her. You didn't even bother considering her fear before you brought her to the kitchen, and got out a slice of bread. You set her on the slice of bread, and got out some butter and a knife, buttering the bread and her with it. You wrapped the bread around her young body, before tossing her into your mouth to be sent to your stomach, where she would inevitably meet her redheaded teammate.
You returned, all of the team being unaware of what happened to their African American comrade, before you called for the backstroke champion of the team. A woman that was quite chubby stepped out, with short black hair. She was bawling, which you no longer could tolerate.
Without even taking her off the table, you snapped and watched as she turned into a cockroach. Her friends scampered from around her, before you took her outside and placed her on her back, unable to get back on her feet. You laughed as you spotted a man jogging in the distance, sure to put her in place under a sneaker.
You walked back to the table, where the last champion of her stroke stood. You didn't even need to point out the irony you were going to play out with breaststroke specialist. She had blue dyed hair, and she looked like a rebel. You did enjoy those types, as they always fought what was to come. You took your shirt off, giving a good view of your massive breasts to the tiny swimmers before placing the girl on your tit.
The table was forced to watch as she sunk into the skin, fighting as you absorbed her into your breast, making sure that she became nothing but fat on your chest. With your ironic punishment dealt, you looked upon your pets and decided to  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
<<-- Previous · Outline · Recent Additions © Copyright 2025 The1SwagKing (UN: the1swagking at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
The1SwagKing has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work within this interactive story. Poster accepts all responsibility, legal and otherwise, for the content uploaded, submitted to and posted on Writing.Com. |