I always scoffed at the local legend about the tiny people who lived in our town. That’s what the adults talked about when we were growing up – the little helpers who lived in the cracks and crevices of homes who scared away bugs and cleaned up crumbs. I never saw one. No one I knew did. But still, people talked about them as if they were there, like modern fairies.
This morning, I woke up to one standing on my pillow, deftly cleaning a puddle of drool off my pillowcase.
He seemed as startled as I was.
“It’s okay,” he assured me.
I was surprised how loud and clear his voice was, as he was only four inches tall.
“I’m Sade Smols,” he said. “I’ve been cleaning here for the last six months.”
I didn’t respond. Sade put down his mop.
“I can go away if you’d like. I still have work to do, though – you weren’t due to wake up for another couple hours and I’m a bit behind.”
He was right. I’d woken up early. My alarm was set to go off at 9. It was 7:15.
“No, you go ahead,” I told him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to sleep, but can I watch you work?”
“Sure thing,” Sade said, and got back to work.
I watched as he finished mopping up the drool patch. He moved closer to my lips.
“You’ve got some dry skin here I want to take care of,” he informed me. “Is that okay?”
I nodded, then apologized when the sudden movement knocked Sade on his side.
“No worse for wear!” He smiled, then moved toward my mouth.
It’s hard to explain the sensation of having your lips cleaned by a tiny man. He carefully scraped away the chapped skin, then swept it away into a little bag.
“Listen,” Sade informed me, “while this next part is normal for me, it might be pretty strange for you. I’ve gotta go into your mouth and get the stuff you missed when you flossed. It’s something I do twice a week, and it’s pretty important.”
I’d been wondering how much stranger the morning could get, and there it was. Despite that, I felt comfortable around Sade. I still don’t know why. I opened my mouth.
Sade undressed himself, telling me he couldn’t get his clothes covered in saliva. I blinked.
The naked man walked onto my tongue.
Diligent fingers slipped between my teeth and caressed the gum line. I looked down and saw small particles of food matter being thrown out of my mouth onto the pillow.
“I’ll clean that up after!,” Sade called. The sensation of hearing someone else’s voice coming out of my mouth was bizarre, to say the least.
After about ten minutes of work, I felt Sade crawling between my cheek and gums. Out of nowhere, I realized his pen*s was in my mouth. I couldn’t quite feel it; it was too small – but I’d noticed it as he was undressing. Proportionally, it was quite decent on his frame – I figured his wife couldn’t have had any complaints. But now, with it inside me – with his everything inside me – I felt my body responding. My nipples hardened.
Sade didn’t seem to notice. It appeared he was a consummate professional; God only knows the things he’d seen over the course of the time he’d helped me as I slept.
As he slid around, I squeezed my thighs together. Softly. Surreptitiously. Rhythmically. I felt my pulse rise.
“Danielle, are you okay?,” Sade asked, poking his head out of my mouth. “I’m almost done in here – sorry if I’m not being gentle enough.”
I pushed the tip of my tongue against him.
“Careful!,” Sade called.
I could swear I felt the swell of his buttocks against my tongue. I exhaled – hot and moist.
“Dan–,” Sade began, then stopped. He saw my fingers coming toward him. “Wait,” he said, but it was too late. I picked him up.
I held him, my thumb and forefinger under his armpits. I stared at his naked body. It was hairless and covered in a silky sheen of saliva. In the morning sunlight streaming across the bed, he shone. I thought for a moment, then brought him back to my mouth.
I dragged the tip of my tongue across the entire front of his body, from toes to face. Once. Twice. He tasted salty. Sweaty. He’d been working hard in there. I looked down at him and, to my delight, saw he’d gotten aroused.
“Let me,” I whispered. He was silent for a full minute.
“Okay,” he assented. His voice was weak. Uncertain. I stared into his eyes and he met my gaze. He nodded.
My left hand disappeared under the sheets while my tongue flitted over the surface of Sade’s tiny body. He whimpered and tried to grip my tongue. I let him. He held the slick muscle as writhed against it. I felt his arousal now, a hard spot against my soft tongue.
“I want to be inside you,” Sade whispered.
Under the sheets he went. I rubbed him against me; my saliva mixing with the velvety wetness between my thighs. I felt his hands and arms and legs and feet caressing me, slipping inside, and perhaps it was my imagination, but I would swear I felt his infinitesimal tongue lapping at me. I moaned and lost myself in the moment.
Minutes later, sated but still playful, I brought Sade back up. He was panting, soaked and slippery. I brought him to my lips. I sucked him from his toes to his chest, tasting myself on him.
“I need more,” he groaned. “I want to be inside. All the way. I want to be used by you. Make me part of your body.” He reached out and pulled on my lip, as if to close my mouth on him.
I paused. I thought about Sade slipping down my throat, his hands trying to grasp my esophagus for purchase in an attempt to save himself from being dissolved by the acid in my stomach.
“I can’t!,” I protested.
“Please,” he whispered, stroking himself. “This is what I’ve dreamed about. This is what I want. What I need. I’ve wanted it from the moment I saw you.”
I stared, mesmerized, as he ran his hand over himself. I deftly pinched my left nipple.
“Do…do you just want me to swallow you?,” I asked, not believing those words were coming out of my mouth.
“No,” he said. “In pieces. I want to feel everything there is to feel before I die.” His pen*s twitched as he spoke, and a string of fluid leaked from the tip.
“This isn’t real,” I told myself. “It’s okay. It’s got to be a dream.” Sade’s delicate body hung between my fingers. I opened my mouth and put his ankle between my front teeth.
“Yes,” he coaxed. “Yes.”
I bit. I felt my teeth meet and tasted something coppery. His blood. Sade didn’t scream. The veins stood out in his neck and he pleasured himself.
I brought him further into my mouth. I bit under his knees. This time, I felt a pop as my teeth broke through his patellar tendons. I felt his calves fall onto my tongue. Sade was breathing heavily. I realized he was sobbing.
“Don’t stop!,” he shouted, squeezing his pen*s in a death grip as the blood drained from his body. “Hips next. Please. Please.”
I felt a wave of nausea pass through me, then I clamped my molars on his hips. I felt them splinter. I pulled him out of my mouth, his viscera still connected to the devastated remains of his lower half.
He held up his hand and touched my nose. He’d turned white from blood loss. He would die very soon.
“Thank you,” Sade whispered, and kissed my upper lip.
I didn’t know what to say. I sucked him, feeling his intestines unravel from his torso and disappear into my mouth. I swallowed.
Sade blinked and smiled. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” he whispered. He sounded drunk; I knew he was about to lose consciousness. “Don’t forget me.” His eyes closed.
I put his upper half in my mouth and chewed. His ribs sounded like celery as I bit through; his skull like candy. I chewed until there was nothing left but pulp. Sade’s brain, the very essence of who he was, dissolved in my saliva. I swallowed, and it joined the rest of him.
I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I looked in the mirror. My mouth was covered in blood. I opened it. A tiny piece of bone was sticking to my lip. It could have been a piece of rib, it could have been a shard of femur. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was it was over. No one would believe me, but no one needed to know anyway. The morning was something special shared by Sade and me. My friend. My lover. My meal.