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@ryu-toranami
You want your toy back? Come and get it! :)
So much tit i can't resist
Marrying the Maid
More archive short stories. Get more on my P*treon. Enjoy! https://www.patreon.com/JayAury
---
Baron Lukas Instaf fell into his office chair with an audible groan.
Yes.
His office.
He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. To think, he would inherit the barony at a mere twenty years of age. It was quite a bit of pressure, he had to admit.
He found himself looking back at the imposing portrait hanging over the mantle of the fireplace. His fatherâs picture was of a grim, sullen man with dark hair and a face of hard, disapproving lines.
Lukas had inherited the manâs hair, if not his rough features. He was slimmer than his stocky father. Many said handsomer, and certainly younger. He flexed his hands on the arms of the chair uneasily and scanned the study. He didnât much care for the decor. But that had always been his problem, as his father had frequently berated him. He was indecisive. Weak.
Well, Lukas had best start getting decisive. For this was his home now.
Well, mostly.
The door swung open with a bang. âGood morning master!â
Dainty Wilder
I strained to free myself from the firm grip of Monica's thick thighs, which had figuratively swallowed my body and arms whole in her bodyscissor following her attack of me in our dorm hallway. She had flung herself at me, bundling us into Dainty's, her fellow Campus Girl, room.
As we grappled Dainty calmly close the room to offer us some privacy. She then perched herself at the end of the bed to witness my losing battle with her curvy athletic friend.
From drecma galleries
"Look. You will go night night soon. You can keep following the sweet sway, back and forth, of my breasts like the good boy you are. Or I can press them ever so firmly on your face in a smother...your choice."
From drecma galleries
I awoke with the harshest headache. Splitting pains on the sides of my neck too. Turning slowly to my side in the bed I eyed Jasmine humming to herself. She smiled down at me as she pulled up her jeans over her curvy behind.
"Someone decided to return to dreamsville a bit early" she chuckled while buttoning her pants now. "I have to go, but you should get some more shut eye."
Geeze. She must have knocked me out. In between those thick thighs no doubt.
Seeing the recognition of what occurred on my face, Jasmine approached the bed. She leant over and hugged my face into her beefy boobs. I was in no condition to fight back. Smother locked in.
Jasmine kept the hug on for a minute or two until my little fight faded. I wasn't quite out yet when she lifted a bit and planted a deep french kiss on me. Arousal stirred energy back into me but she then pinched closed my nose and pushed her torso on mine - all three moves preventing my breathing in a new way.
I faded until unconsciousness within seconds. A cruel kiss good night.
The strong taste of sweat in my lips. Hers or mine? Can't tell. Don't care. All that matters is recovery and escape.
I eye the door behind her. Her. Her and Them. All that matters is recovery and escape.
"It's natural you know...". Her. I shudder.
One breath out. One in. Slap on the face. Knock on door. I am ready.
Ready for my next match in our bed wrestling league against Penny. I hadn't been able to get much intel on her and her style unfortunately beyond the obvious - she was undefeated.
Well I was here to end her streak. Her roommate Samantha opened the door, invited me in and gave me a quick peck on the cheek as she turned to leave Penny and I to our battle. "Oh dear. You are in for a wild ride. Good luck." She promptly shut the door behind her, leaving me to venture inside to find Penny's room.
"Oh you will be far from the first. And definitely not the last." Lindsay goaded me, stepping out of her jeans to reveal her creamy thighs and ass.
Turning to put that ass more on display, she continued. "All of you ultimately succumb to my butt cheeks. Devoured by them." I audibly gulped.
Sweet Perfume
How long had it been since he wandered into the greenhouse?
How long had it been since he met the plant girl?
How long had he been breathing in her perfume?
Growing weak?
His thoughts aimless?
Dim?
How long had she been sneaking her vines around his unresisting limbs?
Binding him?
Capturing him?
How long had she been kissing him with those lips that made him feel so giddy and happy and brainlessly content?
How long had her flowers been draining his manhood?
How long had he been under her spell?
Too long to escape.
Too long to resist.
Too long to do anything... but happily... lovingly...
...Give in...
Growing into the Job, Post 406: Babysitting, p1
âNow, isnât that adorable,â Randi said, in her typically acerbic tone, in her typically smoky voice, as I came around the corner downstairs in my typically reticent way.
Let's back up a bit. Melissa had gone to work hours ago, leaving me swaddled in her bedsheets,. Weâd âagreedâ that I was too exhausted and would stay home today. It was a little hard to remember honestly. After my time with âMr. Sockâ, everything was a blur. I just remember nodding as she wrapped me carefully in her sheets. Either way, my RNs would be able to cover my patients while I was gone. It really seemed like I didn't have much to do these days. I figured, after all the stress Iâd been through, I deserved a break. It was good that there were people on which I could rely.
Melissa, on the other hand, was working hard. It was one of our last days before the new wings opened (I hadnât even set foot in them yet) and there was a lot to do for her and the other girls: new staff to prepare for, press to deal with, all the final preparations. I got the feeling they didnât want me in the way.Â
Anyway, I was peeled myself out of bed just before noon, and immediately I could feel it. As soon as Iâd dropped the bra Melissa had left me to cuddle in my sleep, my stomach took a turn. A few more steps away from it and the headache started. Only by picking it back up and taking a breath from one of its enormous cups of firm white satin allowed me to feel better. Jesus! What was in that perfume she wore?? I actually needed to keep the bra near me, hanging it close by the shower as I rinsed myself off. I guess Iâd be breathing through it today.Â
Thus, the snide âadorableâ comment. Iâd needed the bra over my mouth and nose to come downstairs, dressed in sweats and a new collared shirt after my shower, and when I turned into the great room I found Randi curled up on the couch with her laptop, looking right at me. I froze, flushing in embarrassment. I was probably quite the sight.Â
âYou realize you donât need that, right? Not with me here,â Randi continued, eyeing me with an amused glint that made me feel even smaller than my - man, I didnât even know how short I was at that point. âBut if you want to keep wearing Missyâs bra over your face all day, be my guest.â
I could feel how I wasnât quite willing to let it go, and I found myself taking another deep breath. I knew this was ridiculous though, so after an awkward moment of staring at Randi with Melissaâs bra covering my face, I tentatively peeled it away and set it down. I took took a new breath. Yes, the familiar perfume that filled the air at the office and followed Melissa in a cloud wherever she went was here, too. Randi must be wearing it. Great, I guess.Â
âThanks,â I muttered, now awkwardly looking for a place to deposit my girlfriend's industrial-grade brassiere.Â
âHere, bring it,â Randi bid me, waving me over towards her. Being her typical self, she seemed impatient with me already.Â
In little steps I approached, handed it to her. I took note of her outfit: casual lounge wear, Ÿ length pants of soft gray cotton, and a black tank. Her long, racehorse legs were curled beneath her, her feet bare.Â
She took the bra and put it aside herself on a side table, next to some paperwork and a glass coffee mug. âMissy wanted me to run a load of laundry, Iâll throw this in.â She looked at me again, up and down, regarding me with a snide smirk on her lips as I stood, saying nothing. âYou can help with that later.â
âs-sure,â I agreed.Â
She looked at me, and I at her. Randi really was a gorgeous girl: tall, darkly lean, elegant composureâŠand now quite busty herself, to which she drew attention by casually adjusting one of the straps of her top .
Finally she spoke again. âSo, itâs you and me today,â Randi began, a curl coming to her smile and dimpling her high cheeks, dark eyes sparkling, âI was here all night making sure the morons fixed everything. Which they did, finally. Did you hear them last night?â
Finally called to communicate, I rallied myself. âUhâŠuh, no, not really.â I looked around: yeah, the table was back in place, the walls patched with the smell of fresh paint sharing the air with Randiâs perfume. A light fixture or two were missing, but otherwise the place looked normal. âI must have slept through it.â
âYeah I heard she gave you quite the evening, quite the night,â Randi quipped, ânine times, huh, stud?â Her eyes glittered again at my obvious discomfort as I recalled it all. âI felt each one, down here. You made me finally bust through my old sandals,â she added, âthanks a lot.â
A pair of gray plastic flip-flops sat off to the side, straps popped.Â
This canât be real.Â
She saw me looking at them.Â
âAnyway,â Randi continued, âbetween all those nuts of yours and Katarinaâs breastmilk I heard you slept like a baby. Not me I-â
âSh-she told you that?â I sputtered, feeling a new wave of ignominy wash over me, my face flushing anew.Â
âHaha yeah she did,â she chuckled, tickled by my discomfort, âshe said you sucked it all down and then spent the rest of the night on the nipple.â
âWh-what?!?â I exclaimed. I have to talk to her! I immediately thought, I donât want all this sh-
âHey, relax, at least one of us got some sleep,â Randi added, obviously a bit irritated. âActually, seeing you sleep so much makes Missy more reluctant to give you more of Katarinaâs milk. She used the last one in the fridge last night, but it really knocks you out.âÂ
âYeah,â I answered, not knowing what to say but skin squirming as I pictured the two of these women talking about me like this, making decisions for me, trying to adjust my behavior. Discussing my diet of breastmilk, for godâs sake.Â
âI thought maybe Iâd be able to sleep but I have all this social media stuff to handle,â Randi lamented, using outstretched hands to demonstrate the laptop, the tablet and the piles of paper she had surrounding her. It looked like a lot, I guess. âYour girlfriendâs made quite the stir, with her tv interview last night. Iâm trying to handle all the new attention sheâs getting today. Her accounts, the officeâs - even mine and the other girlsâ. Theyâre all suddenly very popular. Yours too.â
âWait, what? Mine?â Without a phone since this past weekend, I really hadnât seen my accounts for days. Not that I ever really paid them much attention.Â
âYeah, even yours,â Randi answered, âMissy asked me to start running your IG too, handling all the attention since Ameliaâs video dropped. So, Iâve been replying to all your new âfansâ, posting a few things for you and-â
âB-b-b-but thatâs..thatâs-â Gah! Thatâs private! What could these girls find out about me if..ifâŠ? âHowâd you get my passwords??â
âHey you should be happy,â Randi said - obviously ignoring my question - âyouâve got like more than twelve thousand followers now. Everyone wants a piece of Mr. Vulni, of Melissssyâs scrawny little boyfriend.â
âJeez,â I offered, running a hand through my hair, scratching my scalp and aware of the dark little thrill of narcissistic pride that gave me Am I popular now? (and why am I not bothered by the âscrawnyâ jab?). Plus, despite the invasion of privacy - was she actually pretending to be me online? - this was Randiâs job, I guess, handling our social media. I realize now that I was trying to rationalize. I used to do that a lot. âThe news thing, Melissaâs interview was good? For getting some, uh, followers? For, yâknow, the office. I havenât see-â
ââGood?ââ Randi snorted, âItâs insane. Another part of itâs coming tonight at 6:30. And - theyâre talking about broadcasting the whole profile piece nationally on MSIT. Fuck. I think Iâm busy with these accounts after last night? If that happens, sheâs gonna be huge. Iâm going to need fifteen of me.â
I had the feeling that, despite her tone, Randi maybe didnât mind her new responsibilities as much as she let on. âWow,â was all I could manage, âHuge, huh..?â Was my girlfriend actually getting famous? Big, tall girls are in, I guess, and for that Melissa definitely qualifies. How many men were out there following her? Should I haha be jealous? I didnât really know what I was feeling, aside from a weird, sudden buildup of pressure in my balls. â...Th-thatâs great I guess.â
âYeah, just more work for me. Plus, I now have you to babysit,â she finished, picking her laptop up off her lap and setting it aside. She took a deep breath, sitting up straight, and looked at me. âSo, what do you want to do? Are you hungry?â
Babysit? Iâd barely heard her question, still shocked by and stuck on that word. Melissa had used âbabysitâ this morning, before she left me to sleep. She was, of course, joking (right?) but with my condition making me sensitive I bristled at it then, and I did it again now. âHey Randi I know Melissa left you here t-â
âOh shut it, Iâm babysitting you,â she said, as she prepared to stand, âJust count yourself lucky she didnât ask little Jenny from down the street to do it.â
âWhoâs âJennyâ?â
âOmigod youâre sooo clueless. Câmere-â
At that, Randi stood from the couch, hand outstretched toward me. She smiled, her lips taking on an extra curl and eyes sparking as she saw me take in her height, and then she took a step back allowing me to appreciate the scale of us.
 I was, oh my god, barely up to her breasts.Â
âWOW youâre short,â she exclaimed, âShorter than yesterday for sure.â She cocked her head at me, obviously enjoying this. âWhat are things like for you down there,â she chuckled, âhaving to look up at us ladies all the time?âÂ
I didnât say anything.
âNow, you missed breakfast, itâs already lunchtime, and she wanted me to make sure you ate. But first I want to check something.â She took a step toward the kitchen and waggled her hand at me, beckoning me to her. âCome.â
I didnât move, still astounded. I did feel shorter.Â
âCome. Here.â
At that, Randi grabbed my hand and yanked me toward her. Dragging me with strides longer than my own, she started marching me towards the kitchen, where there was milk in the fridge and - fuck me - a measuring tape in the drawer.Â
âI want to check this out,â she said, voice alive with excitement as she stood me against the wall and pulled open the tape, âLetâs see just how much youâve lost...â
âŠ
Twenty minutes later I was sitting, sullen in front of the tv, on the opposite end of the couch from where Randi was working with her laptop. My lunch was on the coffee table in front of me: PB&J on toast, a glass of whole milk that I made sure to watch Randi pour from a regular milk carton, thank you very much, and some veggie chips. I was leaning forward with my chin in my hands, ignoring my lunch and half-watching this show Randi had put on for me to keep me occupied while she worked.
I really wasnât hungry, and every bite was bland and tasteless. Likewise, I could barely concentrate on the tv as those numbers just kept going through my head:
Fifty-five inches. I was 4â7â. Iâd shrunk five inches in less than a week! I should be freaking out, I should be terrified. I was diminishing, in so many ways, more than just vertically, and I shouldâve been putting every ounce of my energy into figuring out what was going on. But, instead, there I was, with a little-kidâs lunch Iâd picked over, watching some daytime tv while one of my new employees babysat me and did all the work. I was at a complete loss of what to do. Five inches! In less than a week! I couldnât stop lamenting it. At least Melissa will be happy to hear this. She likes me short.
I took a bite of my sandwich, sweet and chewy. Yuck.Â
Randi had plunked me down in front of the television so she could get back to work. Sheâd run through a few options with the remote and settled on MSIT, this new menâs network, which was running a marathon of some apparently popular retro sitcom. The first season released just recently, but done in a style from yesteryear. The special effects (they had to be special effects, right?) were pretty impressive...
I donât know how it was lost on me, the similarities between âHarryâ, the hapless breadwinner main character and myself. His wife - all wives, all women in fact, had grown two feet - and of course the male population of suburban 1964 was just trying to keep up appearances, living in various stages of denial. Hilarity, of course, ensues. Like in this episode where Harry starts to realize his business suits are all seeming a little too big on him. âDid you put this in the wash, honey?â he asked his towering wife. Heâd interrupted her morning coffee with the girls from the neighborhood.Â
âDarling, you know that would shrink your suit,â she replied patiently, looking down at her blunderbuss husband, âif anything you should be asking if I threw you in thereâŠâ
I hate sitcoms with laugh tracks.Â
Anyway, once that episode was over, and then six more, Iâd reached to grab the remote and - under Randiâs watchful eye - started flipping around the channels. I hadnât seen a lot of midafternoon TV recently, but it certainly hadnât improved in quality. Talk shows, mainly. âThe Viewâ, âJudge Judyâ, stuff like that. It wasnât too different from normal as long as you didnât pay attention to the details. For a moment, I settled on âThe Kathleen OâConnor Showâ, a talk show which had several female executives from some big company in the studio. Nexifem, it looked like.Â
âWelcome back!â announced the pretty blonde host in a smooth and cheerful voice, âToday weâre talking about exciting radical futures and just how far the fempowerment movement can take us toward a better world. What is the next level? Where can women make helpful changes to push toward a better future? Weâve got some big surprises for you today, including something that may shock many of you.â
The hostâs smile was ebullient, inviting me to keep watching, but there was something ominously disturbing about the applause that rose from the all-woman audience in response to her words.Â
âHow many of you have wondered or speculated just what might happen if the vulni-chic movement went even further?â she continued, the camera pulling back to reveal that she was standing behind a table upon which lay a large metal platter, covered by a large metal dome with a handle.
The sound of clapping and voiced affirmations rose like a wave. There was definitely excitement in the audience. They wanted to see what was under that dome, on that platter.Â
âAnd how many of you have noticed just how many young men are choosing supplements and lifestyles that seem to limit their size, so they can appeal to potential girlfriends, their wives, or just fit in more with the trends - even to get jobs?â
Again, the applause rose in response to the hostâs question.
âWell ladies, let me show you something that will blow your minds!â the host continued, big hoop earrings jangling as her right hand came to the handle of the shiny metal dome, âToday we have some special guests, incl-â
Suddenly, the channel changed. Randi had grabbed the remote and changed the channel.Â
Did she not want me to see that?
âOne of the girls just texted me,â she said, pointing it at the television, âChannel 5âs replaying Missyâs interview from last night, for the afternoon news.â
âCool.â I hadnât seen this yet. Iâd wanted to-Â
Yikes.Â
Onscreen: Melissa. Melissa in an oh-my-god plunging pink top and a camera angle that put her biggest assets front and center. Jesus christ look at her! She was in the backseat of some car, maybe a limo, and the reporter was interviewing her.
âWhat is she wearingâŠ?â I muttered.Â
âShe chose that pink top to flex on all the little men watching,â Randi commented, as I stared wide-eyed at the screen. The news piece was supposed to be a story about FHMA, our grand re-opening/expansion, but this seemed more like a study in idolatry, a fetishistic focus on our amazonic Office ManagerâŠand my girlfriend. âMeager male minds are melting everywhere, Iâm sure,â Randi finished. There was a strange tone to her voice, but that was entirely lost on me. Rather, I was getting more consumed by a strange, unusual feeling for me.Â
She chose to wear that? On tv? I silently seethed, imagining all the men plastered to their sets at home leering at her. Even with me, feeling this - letâs face it - jealousy, I found there was no way to take my eyes off her. I became immediately hard just watching. I felt hypnotized and another sudden swelling in my balls. I had a load, ready, pent up, growing. I wanted to show her. I needed to release for her.
All the others do too, donât they?
Randi, to my side, was watching me more than she was watching the screen. She saw me enraptured, and my brow furrowing. Slowly, she inched over towards me on the couch, and - remote still in hand - rewound the interview to the beginning as it came near its conclusion. The whole thing ran maybe three minutes and we were going to watch it again, from the beginning.
Staring at the screen, watching Melissaâs breasts jiggle and sway as she laughed and joked with the reporter, I was barely aware of Randi getting down in front of me where I sat and kneeling. âLook at her, dude, look at how amazing Missy is,â I only half-heard what she said, my eyes glued to the screen. She slowly and gently pushed my knees apart and - looking up at me to make sure I was still watching, she pulled the waistband of my sweatpants down over my steel pole of an erection that had sprung in my pants without me even noticing.Â
She gave me the remote, told me to pause and rewind whenever I wanted. When she placed it in my hand I felt my small fingers curl around it as I continued to watch the jiggly display in front of me, becoming glassy eyed.Â
I didnât see Randi flex her jaw, opening her mouth up much wider than should be humanly possible.Â
âSheâs so beautiful, isnât she?â she then purred in a voice thick with portent, watching how my eyes had completely glazed over.
Sheâd begun to lightly stroke me, as I stared.Â
âLook at her,â Randi purred, âYou canât help it, sheâs fucking magnetic. Everyone wants to look at her, to watch her, to listen to what she says.â <Stroke, stroke, stroke> came her attentions on my cock, though still I donât think I was barely registering it, or what she was saying to me. âAnd this is just the beginning, buddy. I was on social media all night, and thatâs what Iâve been doing today. Pushing her out everywhere. This interview is going to explode and sheâs going to get huge. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to live completely in your girlfriend's shadow?â
Into the otherwise empty house, to the replay of Melissa giggling and smiling on the big screen tv, I groaned aloud.Â
âBecause this interview, the piece theyâre doing on the grand opening?â Randi continued, as precum had begun to drool out of me, âItâs not really about the practice, or some new womenâs health center, no. Itâs all about her. Sheâs going to be a bigger deal than âFar Horizonsâ ever could be.â
âOh godâŠyesâŠâ I moaned to Melissa when she casually shifted her enormous breasts toward the camera, nearly filling the screen. Randi was right. Melissa had said it to me last night - hadnât she? - that she was going to be the biggest. Had she said it out loud? Had I just imagined it? But that's what she wanted, and Melissa tends to get what Melissa wants. And not just big and famous. But, like, big and BIG. Taller, stronger, bigger than anyone else, ever. Some impossible goal that you'd hear on a playground. Something fantastical that would need the laws of biology and physics to be bent out of shape, which, by god, had already begun to happen.
I hadn't taken her seriously, thinking it to be hyperbole, but, watching her on television I was starting to realize that she might just turn that ridiculous goal into a reality. She was getting exactly what she'd said she would, but what I didnât know then was that the seeds for this were all planted long, long before I even knew her.
âYou know it, donât you?â Randi continued, âItâs all about her.â
Once again, with Melissaâs tits on the tv I was barely listening to Randi. I did feel it, though, and moaned in assent when finally she put her lips onto me, over me, sliding me head, shaft and -oh my god - balls into her huge, warm mouth. My entire manhood, tip-to-root, was inside Randi and - with just a little shift forward - fully between her teeth. It didnât even cross my mind at the time: how is she doing that? I was too enraptured in watching Melissa on screen, laughing and posing and broadcasting her magnificence to the worldâŠ
=====================================================================================
Big thanks to longtime reader Jack for some dialogue help, and also thanks again to Horuvex for allowing the universe of GITJ overlap his, in this chapter with âThe Kathleen OâConnor Showâ. Want to - spoiler alert -Â know what was on that platter? Read his âNexifemâ.Â
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Growing into the Job, Post 406: Babysitting, p1
âNow, isnât that adorable,â Randi said, in her typically acerbic tone, in her typically smoky voice, as I came around the corner downstairs in my typically reticent way.
Let's back up a bit. Melissa had gone to work hours ago, leaving me swaddled in her bedsheets,. Weâd âagreedâ that I was too exhausted and would stay home today. It was a little hard to remember honestly. After my time with âMr. Sockâ, everything was a blur. I just remember nodding as she wrapped me carefully in her sheets. Either way, my RNs would be able to cover my patients while I was gone. It really seemed like I didn't have much to do these days. I figured, after all the stress Iâd been through, I deserved a break. It was good that there were people on which I could rely.
Melissa, on the other hand, was working hard. It was one of our last days before the new wings opened (I hadnât even set foot in them yet) and there was a lot to do for her and the other girls: new staff to prepare for, press to deal with, all the final preparations. I got the feeling they didnât want me in the way.Â
Anyway, I was peeled myself out of bed just before noon, and immediately I could feel it. As soon as Iâd dropped the bra Melissa had left me to cuddle in my sleep, my stomach took a turn. A few more steps away from it and the headache started. Only by picking it back up and taking a breath from one of its enormous cups of firm white satin allowed me to feel better. Jesus! What was in that perfume she wore?? I actually needed to keep the bra near me, hanging it close by the shower as I rinsed myself off. I guess Iâd be breathing through it today.Â
Thus, the snide âadorableâ comment. Iâd needed the bra over my mouth and nose to come downstairs, dressed in sweats and a new collared shirt after my shower, and when I turned into the great room I found Randi curled up on the couch with her laptop, looking right at me. I froze, flushing in embarrassment. I was probably quite the sight.Â
âYou realize you donât need that, right? Not with me here,â Randi continued, eyeing me with an amused glint that made me feel even smaller than my - man, I didnât even know how short I was at that point. âBut if you want to keep wearing Missyâs bra over your face all day, be my guest.â
I could feel how I wasnât quite willing to let it go, and I found myself taking another deep breath. I knew this was ridiculous though, so after an awkward moment of staring at Randi with Melissaâs bra covering my face, I tentatively peeled it away and set it down. I took took a new breath. Yes, the familiar perfume that filled the air at the office and followed Melissa in a cloud wherever she went was here, too. Randi must be wearing it. Great, I guess.Â
âThanks,â I muttered, now awkwardly looking for a place to deposit my girlfriend's industrial-grade brassiere.Â
âHere, bring it,â Randi bid me, waving me over towards her. Being her typical self, she seemed impatient with me already.Â
In little steps I approached, handed it to her. I took note of her outfit: casual lounge wear, Ÿ length pants of soft gray cotton, and a black tank. Her long, racehorse legs were curled beneath her, her feet bare.Â
She took the bra and put it aside herself on a side table, next to some paperwork and a glass coffee mug. âMissy wanted me to run a load of laundry, Iâll throw this in.â She looked at me again, up and down, regarding me with a snide smirk on her lips as I stood, saying nothing. âYou can help with that later.â
âs-sure,â I agreed.Â
She looked at me, and I at her. Randi really was a gorgeous girl: tall, darkly lean, elegant composureâŠand now quite busty herself, to which she drew attention by casually adjusting one of the straps of her top .
Finally she spoke again. âSo, itâs you and me today,â Randi began, a curl coming to her smile and dimpling her high cheeks, dark eyes sparkling, âI was here all night making sure the morons fixed everything. Which they did, finally. Did you hear them last night?â
Finally called to communicate, I rallied myself. âUhâŠuh, no, not really.â I looked around: yeah, the table was back in place, the walls patched with the smell of fresh paint sharing the air with Randiâs perfume. A light fixture or two were missing, but otherwise the place looked normal. âI must have slept through it.â
âYeah I heard she gave you quite the evening, quite the night,â Randi quipped, ânine times, huh, stud?â Her eyes glittered again at my obvious discomfort as I recalled it all. âI felt each one, down here. You made me finally bust through my old sandals,â she added, âthanks a lot.â
A pair of gray plastic flip-flops sat off to the side, straps popped.Â
This canât be real.Â
She saw me looking at them.Â
âAnyway,â Randi continued, âbetween all those nuts of yours and Katarinaâs breastmilk I heard you slept like a baby. Not me I-â
âSh-she told you that?â I sputtered, feeling a new wave of ignominy wash over me, my face flushing anew.Â
âHaha yeah she did,â she chuckled, tickled by my discomfort, âshe said you sucked it all down and then spent the rest of the night on the nipple.â
âWh-what?!?â I exclaimed. I have to talk to her! I immediately thought, I donât want all this sh-
âHey, relax, at least one of us got some sleep,â Randi added, obviously a bit irritated. âActually, seeing you sleep so much makes Missy more reluctant to give you more of Katarinaâs milk. She used the last one in the fridge last night, but it really knocks you out.âÂ
âYeah,â I answered, not knowing what to say but skin squirming as I pictured the two of these women talking about me like this, making decisions for me, trying to adjust my behavior. Discussing my diet of breastmilk, for godâs sake.Â
âI thought maybe Iâd be able to sleep but I have all this social media stuff to handle,â Randi lamented, using outstretched hands to demonstrate the laptop, the tablet and the piles of paper she had surrounding her. It looked like a lot, I guess. âYour girlfriendâs made quite the stir, with her tv interview last night. Iâm trying to handle all the new attention sheâs getting today. Her accounts, the officeâs - even mine and the other girlsâ. Theyâre all suddenly very popular. Yours too.â
âWait, what? Mine?â Without a phone since this past weekend, I really hadnât seen my accounts for days. Not that I ever really paid them much attention.Â
âYeah, even yours,â Randi answered, âMissy asked me to start running your IG too, handling all the attention since Ameliaâs video dropped. So, Iâve been replying to all your new âfansâ, posting a few things for you and-â
âB-b-b-but thatâs..thatâs-â Gah! Thatâs private! What could these girls find out about me if..ifâŠ? âHowâd you get my passwords??â
âHey you should be happy,â Randi said - obviously ignoring my question - âyouâve got like more than twelve thousand followers now. Everyone wants a piece of Mr. Vulni, of Melissssyâs scrawny little boyfriend.â
âJeez,â I offered, running a hand through my hair, scratching my scalp and aware of the dark little thrill of narcissistic pride that gave me Am I popular now? (and why am I not bothered by the âscrawnyâ jab?). Plus, despite the invasion of privacy - was she actually pretending to be me online? - this was Randiâs job, I guess, handling our social media. I realize now that I was trying to rationalize. I used to do that a lot. âThe news thing, Melissaâs interview was good? For getting some, uh, followers? For, yâknow, the office. I havenât see-â
ââGood?ââ Randi snorted, âItâs insane. Another part of itâs coming tonight at 6:30. And - theyâre talking about broadcasting the whole profile piece nationally on MSIT. Fuck. I think Iâm busy with these accounts after last night? If that happens, sheâs gonna be huge. Iâm going to need fifteen of me.â
I had the feeling that, despite her tone, Randi maybe didnât mind her new responsibilities as much as she let on. âWow,â was all I could manage, âHuge, huh..?â Was my girlfriend actually getting famous? Big, tall girls are in, I guess, and for that Melissa definitely qualifies. How many men were out there following her? Should I haha be jealous? I didnât really know what I was feeling, aside from a weird, sudden buildup of pressure in my balls. â...Th-thatâs great I guess.â
âYeah, just more work for me. Plus, I now have you to babysit,â she finished, picking her laptop up off her lap and setting it aside. She took a deep breath, sitting up straight, and looked at me. âSo, what do you want to do? Are you hungry?â
Babysit? Iâd barely heard her question, still shocked by and stuck on that word. Melissa had used âbabysitâ this morning, before she left me to sleep. She was, of course, joking (right?) but with my condition making me sensitive I bristled at it then, and I did it again now. âHey Randi I know Melissa left you here t-â
âOh shut it, Iâm babysitting you,â she said, as she prepared to stand, âJust count yourself lucky she didnât ask little Jenny from down the street to do it.â
âWhoâs âJennyâ?â
âOmigod youâre sooo clueless. Câmere-â
At that, Randi stood from the couch, hand outstretched toward me. She smiled, her lips taking on an extra curl and eyes sparking as she saw me take in her height, and then she took a step back allowing me to appreciate the scale of us.
 I was, oh my god, barely up to her breasts.Â
âWOW youâre short,â she exclaimed, âShorter than yesterday for sure.â She cocked her head at me, obviously enjoying this. âWhat are things like for you down there,â she chuckled, âhaving to look up at us ladies all the time?âÂ
I didnât say anything.
âNow, you missed breakfast, itâs already lunchtime, and she wanted me to make sure you ate. But first I want to check something.â She took a step toward the kitchen and waggled her hand at me, beckoning me to her. âCome.â
I didnât move, still astounded. I did feel shorter.Â
âCome. Here.â
At that, Randi grabbed my hand and yanked me toward her. Dragging me with strides longer than my own, she started marching me towards the kitchen, where there was milk in the fridge and - fuck me - a measuring tape in the drawer.Â
âI want to check this out,â she said, voice alive with excitement as she stood me against the wall and pulled open the tape, âLetâs see just how much youâve lost...â
âŠ
Twenty minutes later I was sitting, sullen in front of the tv, on the opposite end of the couch from where Randi was working with her laptop. My lunch was on the coffee table in front of me: PB&J on toast, a glass of whole milk that I made sure to watch Randi pour from a regular milk carton, thank you very much, and some veggie chips. I was leaning forward with my chin in my hands, ignoring my lunch and half-watching this show Randi had put on for me to keep me occupied while she worked.
I really wasnât hungry, and every bite was bland and tasteless. Likewise, I could barely concentrate on the tv as those numbers just kept going through my head:
Fifty-five inches. I was 4â7â. Iâd shrunk five inches in less than a week! I should be freaking out, I should be terrified. I was diminishing, in so many ways, more than just vertically, and I shouldâve been putting every ounce of my energy into figuring out what was going on. But, instead, there I was, with a little-kidâs lunch Iâd picked over, watching some daytime tv while one of my new employees babysat me and did all the work. I was at a complete loss of what to do. Five inches! In less than a week! I couldnât stop lamenting it. At least Melissa will be happy to hear this. She likes me short.
I took a bite of my sandwich, sweet and chewy. Yuck.Â
Randi had plunked me down in front of the television so she could get back to work. Sheâd run through a few options with the remote and settled on MSIT, this new menâs network, which was running a marathon of some apparently popular retro sitcom. The first season released just recently, but done in a style from yesteryear. The special effects (they had to be special effects, right?) were pretty impressive...
I donât know how it was lost on me, the similarities between âHarryâ, the hapless breadwinner main character and myself. His wife - all wives, all women in fact, had grown two feet - and of course the male population of suburban 1964 was just trying to keep up appearances, living in various stages of denial. Hilarity, of course, ensues. Like in this episode where Harry starts to realize his business suits are all seeming a little too big on him. âDid you put this in the wash, honey?â he asked his towering wife. Heâd interrupted her morning coffee with the girls from the neighborhood.Â
âDarling, you know that would shrink your suit,â she replied patiently, looking down at her blunderbuss husband, âif anything you should be asking if I threw you in thereâŠâ
I hate sitcoms with laugh tracks.Â
Anyway, once that episode was over, and then six more, Iâd reached to grab the remote and - under Randiâs watchful eye - started flipping around the channels. I hadnât seen a lot of midafternoon TV recently, but it certainly hadnât improved in quality. Talk shows, mainly. âThe Viewâ, âJudge Judyâ, stuff like that. It wasnât too different from normal as long as you didnât pay attention to the details. For a moment, I settled on âThe Kathleen OâConnor Showâ, a talk show which had several female executives from some big company in the studio. Nexifem, it looked like.Â
âWelcome back!â announced the pretty blonde host in a smooth and cheerful voice, âToday weâre talking about exciting radical futures and just how far the fempowerment movement can take us toward a better world. What is the next level? Where can women make helpful changes to push toward a better future? Weâve got some big surprises for you today, including something that may shock many of you.â
The hostâs smile was ebullient, inviting me to keep watching, but there was something ominously disturbing about the applause that rose from the all-woman audience in response to her words.Â
âHow many of you have wondered or speculated just what might happen if the vulni-chic movement went even further?â she continued, the camera pulling back to reveal that she was standing behind a table upon which lay a large metal platter, covered by a large metal dome with a handle.
The sound of clapping and voiced affirmations rose like a wave. There was definitely excitement in the audience. They wanted to see what was under that dome, on that platter.Â
âAnd how many of you have noticed just how many young men are choosing supplements and lifestyles that seem to limit their size, so they can appeal to potential girlfriends, their wives, or just fit in more with the trends - even to get jobs?â
Again, the applause rose in response to the hostâs question.
âWell ladies, let me show you something that will blow your minds!â the host continued, big hoop earrings jangling as her right hand came to the handle of the shiny metal dome, âToday we have some special guests, incl-â
Suddenly, the channel changed. Randi had grabbed the remote and changed the channel.Â
Did she not want me to see that?
âOne of the girls just texted me,â she said, pointing it at the television, âChannel 5âs replaying Missyâs interview from last night, for the afternoon news.â
âCool.â I hadnât seen this yet. Iâd wanted to-Â
Yikes.Â
Onscreen: Melissa. Melissa in an oh-my-god plunging pink top and a camera angle that put her biggest assets front and center. Jesus christ look at her! She was in the backseat of some car, maybe a limo, and the reporter was interviewing her.
âWhat is she wearingâŠ?â I muttered.Â
âShe chose that pink top to flex on all the little men watching,â Randi commented, as I stared wide-eyed at the screen. The news piece was supposed to be a story about FHMA, our grand re-opening/expansion, but this seemed more like a study in idolatry, a fetishistic focus on our amazonic Office ManagerâŠand my girlfriend. âMeager male minds are melting everywhere, Iâm sure,â Randi finished. There was a strange tone to her voice, but that was entirely lost on me. Rather, I was getting more consumed by a strange, unusual feeling for me.Â
She chose to wear that? On tv? I silently seethed, imagining all the men plastered to their sets at home leering at her. Even with me, feeling this - letâs face it - jealousy, I found there was no way to take my eyes off her. I became immediately hard just watching. I felt hypnotized and another sudden swelling in my balls. I had a load, ready, pent up, growing. I wanted to show her. I needed to release for her.
All the others do too, donât they?
Randi, to my side, was watching me more than she was watching the screen. She saw me enraptured, and my brow furrowing. Slowly, she inched over towards me on the couch, and - remote still in hand - rewound the interview to the beginning as it came near its conclusion. The whole thing ran maybe three minutes and we were going to watch it again, from the beginning.
Staring at the screen, watching Melissaâs breasts jiggle and sway as she laughed and joked with the reporter, I was barely aware of Randi getting down in front of me where I sat and kneeling. âLook at her, dude, look at how amazing Missy is,â I only half-heard what she said, my eyes glued to the screen. She slowly and gently pushed my knees apart and - looking up at me to make sure I was still watching, she pulled the waistband of my sweatpants down over my steel pole of an erection that had sprung in my pants without me even noticing.Â
She gave me the remote, told me to pause and rewind whenever I wanted. When she placed it in my hand I felt my small fingers curl around it as I continued to watch the jiggly display in front of me, becoming glassy eyed.Â
I didnât see Randi flex her jaw, opening her mouth up much wider than should be humanly possible.Â
âSheâs so beautiful, isnât she?â she then purred in a voice thick with portent, watching how my eyes had completely glazed over.
Sheâd begun to lightly stroke me, as I stared.Â
âLook at her,â Randi purred, âYou canât help it, sheâs fucking magnetic. Everyone wants to look at her, to watch her, to listen to what she says.â <Stroke, stroke, stroke> came her attentions on my cock, though still I donât think I was barely registering it, or what she was saying to me. âAnd this is just the beginning, buddy. I was on social media all night, and thatâs what Iâve been doing today. Pushing her out everywhere. This interview is going to explode and sheâs going to get huge. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to live completely in your girlfriend's shadow?â
Into the otherwise empty house, to the replay of Melissa giggling and smiling on the big screen tv, I groaned aloud.Â
âBecause this interview, the piece theyâre doing on the grand opening?â Randi continued, as precum had begun to drool out of me, âItâs not really about the practice, or some new womenâs health center, no. Itâs all about her. Sheâs going to be a bigger deal than âFar Horizonsâ ever could be.â
âOh godâŠyesâŠâ I moaned to Melissa when she casually shifted her enormous breasts toward the camera, nearly filling the screen. Randi was right. Melissa had said it to me last night - hadnât she? - that she was going to be the biggest. Had she said it out loud? Had I just imagined it? But that's what she wanted, and Melissa tends to get what Melissa wants. And not just big and famous. But, like, big and BIG. Taller, stronger, bigger than anyone else, ever. Some impossible goal that you'd hear on a playground. Something fantastical that would need the laws of biology and physics to be bent out of shape, which, by god, had already begun to happen.
I hadn't taken her seriously, thinking it to be hyperbole, but, watching her on television I was starting to realize that she might just turn that ridiculous goal into a reality. She was getting exactly what she'd said she would, but what I didnât know then was that the seeds for this were all planted long, long before I even knew her.
âYou know it, donât you?â Randi continued, âItâs all about her.â
Once again, with Melissaâs tits on the tv I was barely listening to Randi. I did feel it, though, and moaned in assent when finally she put her lips onto me, over me, sliding me head, shaft and -oh my god - balls into her huge, warm mouth. My entire manhood, tip-to-root, was inside Randi and - with just a little shift forward - fully between her teeth. It didnât even cross my mind at the time: how is she doing that? I was too enraptured in watching Melissa on screen, laughing and posing and broadcasting her magnificence to the worldâŠ
=====================================================================================
Big thanks to longtime reader Jack for some dialogue help, and also thanks again to Horuvex for allowing the universe of GITJ overlap his, in this chapter with âThe Kathleen OâConnor Showâ. Want to - spoiler alert -Â know what was on that platter? Read his âNexifemâ.Â
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Wing-it for Xhyra
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đNo chance of getting out of such tight squeezeđ€€
In my moment of respite, I gathered the strength to struggle against the ropes (well, bras) that bound me to a chair. My struggle however proved limp. All energy had been drained from me in the hours since my capture.
I had returned to my hometown from college, a surprise visit to my parents which they would enioy. Our next door neighbour, Alicia, hollered out a cheerily hello as she eyed me from her window while I unpacked my stuff from the car. I waved back and we briefly chatted about why I was back. "Oh you are such a lovely boy" she added, smile growing wide.
An hour later and that smile returned at my door step. Alicia asked me to help with moving some furniture before an afternoon party with some friends. "Of course" I agreed and tagged along with Alicia back to her home. On passing through her door way, a rag smelling deeply of unknown chemicals was shoved into my face. Almost immediately I lost consciousness...
When I awoke I found myself bound to a wooden chair and surrounded by a bikini clad Alicia and two of her busty friends. My neighbour pressed a finger to my lips to indicate for me to be quiet. I obeyed and she smiled again, sitting in my lap and then leaning forward. She hugged my face to her heaving chest.
I didn't know what to do. I was in shock. Why was she burying me in her breasts? My inquiry was halted by the growing need to breathe. I began to fight for air, pushing against Alicia's body to get space to take a breath. Alicia hugged me tighter to cancel out my effort. "It's not fair l, I know" she noted while combing my hair with her hand as I weakened from the smother.
I eventually succumbed to her hold. I groggily awoke to one of her friends now perched on top of me, somehow equally as busty as Alicia, and it was rinse and repeat. Hug. Smother. Knockout. Hug. Smother. Knockout.
Now. Back to the present. Hours of torture. And yet again, Alicia plops down. Grips my ears. And reassures me, wiping away my flowing tears. "It's not fair, I know."
Gina proved to be a more than formidable bed wrestling opponent. In our league she had a near perfect record. Dominating men through her mix of size, strength, speed and guile.
And here I was. Her latest victim. She had wrestled me all around the room over the last ten minutes. And now I was huffing and puffing for air. Laid out on my back on the bed.
Double trouble
đSo get ready for double the funđ€€