[NSFW] Best Friend's Mom Plays with Shrunken Toys

“Mrs-Mrs. Jackson… I think they’re alive…” Your voice trembles at the horror of what you had done. You had just swiped the tupperware of miniatures from your step-sister’s desk, intending to wash and return them the next day after Mrs. Jackson had…used them. You didn’t realize that they were alive! Shrunken and alive soldiers with functioning vehicles. What was your step-sister doing at college?

“You don’t say?” Mrs. Jackson had taken the information surprisingly easily. You hadn’t. Soldiers were running around on your best friend’s mom, tanks were traversing on her nipples. You could see sporadic flashes of fire, as the battalion hopelessly tried to fend off the horny housewife. Already, there were smudges of blood and smashed vehicles littering her voluptuous body. 

You watch as another 60-tonne war machine sinks into Mrs. Jackson’s pussy, its turret and tracks spinning uselessly as her fluids coated the helpless machine. She spends a few extra moments savoring it, rubbing it against her clit before she pushes the entire vehicle into herself with her index finger, entombing it in her sex with the rest of its platoon. Mrs. Jackson turns her attention to the M2 Bradley, still half inserted in her asshole. Her sphincters pucker and dilate as it pulls the troop carrier into her rectum, completely overpowering its desperate attempts to reverse out of her. The little vehicle would also join its platoon, crammed up against another 3 Bradleys that were up Mrs. Jackson’s ass.

“Alright, Mrs. Jackson.” You give her an update, voice trembling with excitement but also guilt. “Looks like a platoon of 4 M1 Abrams inside your…vagina, along with the 16 crew members on board. As well as 4 M2 Bradleys inside your rectum, along with 40 crew and soldiers.”

“Look at you, honey.” Mrs. Jackson’s voice oozed with mischief. “I remember when you were still struggling with arithmetics.”

“You have killed 56 US soldiers in a rather…humiliating way. Do you think your overwhelming size compared to them contributed to your disregard for their lives?” You try to salvage what you can from this morality experiment.

“Oh honey! I didn’t kill them!” Mrs. Jackson said in mock offense. “I can still feel their little vehicles moving inside me.”

You gulp at the thought of the shrunken men, trapped in their tiny vehicles, powerless against the internal walls of this giant MILF they had never met. Seeing your concern for their lives, Mrs. Jackson grabs your wrist with an uncharacteristic aggressiveness. You give out a little yelp, and can’t help but stare into her blue eyes as she speaks.

“Now, here’s a moral quandary for you. These 56 men and their vehicles, they’re staying inside me. The ones in my pussy are going to slowly marinate over the next hours and days, with no hope of escape as I go along with my daily business. If they don’t drown inside me during the night, they’re going to have a wild time during my hot pilates lesson tomorrow. The ones in my ass, they’re a bit luckier. By the time those tacos we had for dinner pass through my system tomorrow morning, they’ll be in a world of shit. So, are you going to shorten their suffering?”

You stare at her, stunned and unable to speak. Mrs. Jackson’s expression softens to one that you are more familiar with. She delicately picks up a soldier off her breast, toying with him between her thumb and index finger. Without warning, your best friend’s mom then slides her hand down your pants, and you feel the tiny soldier press up against your cock. 

“Honey.” Mrs. Jackson coos in her normal friendly voice. She strokes your rock hard cock, sliding the squirming soldier around the head of your penis. 

“You’ve got them outgunned with your cannon here. Why don’t you get inside of me and end their suffering?” With that, she presses down on the tiny soldier. You feel him pop against your frenulum.

How did it come to this? Your best friend’s mom, who had once gently picked up a spider to release it outside, had just murdered a shrunken, helpless soldier against your cock. And now there was going to be another 56 deaths on your hands, or rather on your cock.