I apologize for the fact it's in an attachment but when I tried to paste the formatting went haywire. This is my first time writing in 3 years so it isn't a full blown continuation, so be gentle.
(I have solved the problem and uploaded your story correctly formated below 
- Thanatos)Tammy’s Dream
Tammy slowly began to stir from her slumber. Her long fingers had found their way into her pink lace panties some time ago, followed by a few escaping moans. It was apparent her hand was moving in a rather rhythmic motion, but the rest of her body squirmed somewhat uncontrollably. The moans grew in volume until finally she woke herself.
White walls, a wooden ceiling fan, wooden furniture, a laptop sitting atop a desk, a burgundy red blanket wrapped around her nearly nude body. It was just a dream. It took a moment to realize that her hand had been busy, and at that moment her dreams came flooding back. More moans.
The thought of those entire throngs of people turning into nothing but red sludge with every footfall came racing back. Her free hand traced along her throat, her shimmering red fingernails glimmering in the dim light. Another thought, the feeling of clumps of what used to be living, breathing beings finding their way into her stomach. Another moan, this one greater than the one before.
What the hell, why was she enjoying this so much? It seemed to her than any person in their right mind would be repulsed. Another thought. Squirming forms fighting the muscles of her esophagus. How they thought that their pitiful struggles would somehow change the outcome of what would happen, what they would become. No matter how hard they struggled they would always end up in her digestive tract.
Then what? They would become a part of this beautiful body, her body, the one she was caressing so intimately. She was a fair skinned woman with a body that rivaled most. If there was one thing everyone loved, it was those powerful legs of hers. Those legs, those muscular thighs. Her pants always fit so snugly, as if they were made specifically for her.
Don’t get anyone started on that rear of hers. Much like the rest of her legs, it filled out any pants she may wear rather nicely. That thick, full derriere was the envy of many man, and an object of jealousy for just as many woman. That abdomen of hers, well defined yet not quite a six pack, and it squirmed and contorted with every incredible thrust of her hand, and every booming moan that echoed through the halls of her house.
As her body contorted itself in wild positions her breasts bounced about in her matching bra. Those perky little things weren’t too small, nor did they push any extremes, they were just right to many. A modest size, yet perfectly shaped. Those fleshy orbs moved progressively faster, keeping on track with the thrusting of her hand and the bucking of her body.
Her thin, toned arms looked innocent enough, but in this dream which was throwing her body into throes of pleasure, it was capable of ending countless lives. The simple game she played with the woman in her palm came to mind. Those small arms turned that woman’s insides out, and her outsides… Another moan. She almost remembered how it felt in the dream, to smear that woman across her hand with the simplest of movements. Wait, do you feel in dreams? Those hands that dropped off many victims at her pearly white gates. The entrance to heaven in some books, but in her dream it was a one way ticket to hell.
Her imagination kicked into gear, those bare fingers causing her such pleasure, seemed to change, at least in her mind. Suddenly she felt the sensation of people clung to her fingers being devoured by her insides. The occasional being getting smashed against her insides, every crunch she imagined caused her to buck even more wildly.
Yet again her free hand traced her throat, following it until she found herself sucking on her fingers. Those thick lips which had sealed so many people’s fates in her mind, was now keeping her other hand busy. Her imagination struck yet again, not only were there people crawling on her hand that was causing these fits of pleasure, but now every time she sucked on her finger, she had the sensation of dozens of bodies being pulled away from it, being banished to her innards.
The sensation that dream had given her, of an entire group of people being smeared across her rear. A whole crowd of people turning into nothing but red oozed that seeped down into the building which she had sat upon. The bucking and thrusting grew even more violent until her loudest moan yet. She didn’t doubt her neighbors heard this one, but at this point she didn’t care, there wasn’t any coming back.
The thought of dozens of people now being crushed by her contractions was the final ingredient. She came, her body bucking wildly, shaking the bed, slamming it up against the wall. Moans, just like the last one escaping past her fingers, past her lips, carrying throughout the halls of her home. More sensations of crunching, of death.
Slowly she came back down from her high. The thoughts of dozens, if not hundreds being pulped by the simplest functions of her body kept her excited. Her thrusting slowed, her body stilled until she found herself gasping for breath. Both hands falling away from her body, lying off to her sides she tried to relax.
Her breathing continued to slow until she found herself just staring at the ceiling. Those piercing hazel eyes just stayed locked on the ceiling. She always had liked her eyes, and now found herself wondering how they would appear to someone so small, one of the many dead in her dreams. How it must’ve felt to have those eyes end up as the last thing they saw before they met their inevitable doom at her fingertips.
“Mm…. That was…nice…” She muttered to no one in particular, followed by a few little moans and another squirm of her abdomen. “God…. If I could only be so lucky.” Another sensation of some squirming man, woman, child, perhaps an entire family just fighting their way to keep from disappearing into the depths of her stomach. In her dream their will didn’t matter, it was only her will. Tammy was everything in that world, the decision maker. Oh and they were simple decisions too, not who to kill, when to kill, but just how. What kept her most entertained.
She heard that familiar repetitive buzzing sound and rolled onto her side, staring at that piece of shit alarm clock. Seven A.M. “Dammit…” Another mutter. After that recent power trip of a dream she didn’t feel like dealing with any annoyances in a proper fashion. That resulted in the alarm clock being obliterated with a single solid swing of her fist.
A little groan and she drug herself out of bed clambering over to the bathroom, trying to make her legs function properly after her little experience. She turned on the shower, closed the curtain and left. That damn thing always took time to warm up so she reluctantly trudged over to the kitchen, regaining some of the function in her legs. She grabbed herself a cold glass of orange juice and a granola bar.
She saw a flashing red light, it was her phone. Who the hell would have called and left a message on a Tuesday night? Setting her food down she headed over to the phone and pushed play. All she heard was “Hi Tammy,” before something else caught her eye. The rest of the world seemed to fade away as her focus found itself drifting to the floor. One of her high heels had fallen over during the night, but it wasn’t the heel. It was a small white shirt stuck to the bottom, stained. Stained a dark blood red. Tammy’s face lit up like the fourth of July.
----To be continued----
