Big Little Sister Redux

                                                                                        or

                                                                              Eclipse Revisited

                                                  Comments (appreciated) to greapos@hotmail.com

                                                    Original by Dreamtales, reworking by greapos

Note: Much of the first, oh, about one-quarter of this appeared as a wonderful story by Dreamtales. I have taken the liberty of messing around with it a little bit, adding on to it, and making it a sequel of sorts to my previous story “Eclipse”. My apologies to any I’ve offended, perturbed or otherwise pissed off.    -g

Disclaimer: The Author of this piece is woefully undereducated in the medical sciences. Any similarity to anything approaching actual scientific knowledge, or literature in general, is purely coincidental. Also, things might get a little weird…no kids.

                I hadn't expected Becky to be here, but that really looked like her walking right up ahead of me at the carnival. "Hey kiddo!" I said as I tapped her on the back. She spun around to face me. "Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you were my girlfriend..."

                "Hi Mike! How are you?" I blinked in confusion. "Don't you recognize me?" The girl was smiling, a big grin on her face, looking right into my eyes. She really looked familiar, so much like Becky, but...it couldn't be...

                "Laurie? Is that you?"

                "Mmmmhmmm…Why? Have I changed much?" Laurie grinned, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips, inviting me to look her over. She sure had changed! In a few short months she had grown into a very pretty girl - almost the same size as her older sister. It was really mind boggling to see cute little childish Laurie suddenly so grown up, especially when she was so giggly and immature before. I guess Laurie could see from my expression that I was really surprised. She giggled and offered an explanation. "Yeah, I've been on these special...hormone injections. I've been taking 'em for the last few months and they're really working!"

                "Boy, I'll say. You look great, Laurie." It really was incredible, the things modern science can do these days. I should know, with all the medical stuff I'd been going through myself lately. But more on that later. Anyway, she and I ended up walking around together for a while, but soon I had to leave. Laurie asked if I could give her a ride home, and we found ourselves sitting alone together in the front seat of my car. Laurie had been constantly smiling at me the whole time since we had met, a big grin on her face and this kind of goofy look in her eyes. I guess she still had a little crush on me. 

                "Mike, do you think I'm pretty?" Laurie's high lilting voice had a teasing tone to it.

                "Sure Laurie. You're very pretty for a girl. Why, don't you have a boyfriend at school?" She didn't seem to acknowledge my question.

                A minute's pause, then, "Mike, do you think I'm... sexy?" Hmmm... we were treading on dangerous ground here. This was the sister of my girlfriend, and a kid, to boot.

                "Well, Laurie, I think you're a little young for me to answer that..."

                "But, do you think Becky's sexy?"

                "Well, umm... yeah, sure. Becky's my girlfriend. She's also older than you are." I didn't like where this was going and wanted to try to cut it off before it got out of hand.

                "Well, I'm wearing Becky's dress and it fits me just right. So, if you think Becky's sexy, then you must think I'm sexy, too, right?"

                "Now Laurie, that's enough of that..."

                But, as I tried to concentrate on driving, Laurie sat up on her knees and leaned in close, whispering into my ear and giggling. "And I'm wearing Becky's bra...it fits me just right, too!"

                "Okay, Laurie, enough already." That whisper in my ear actually got me aroused, to my chagrin. Luckily, we were just arriving at her house, so I pulled the car over and turned to give Laurie what I hoped was an appropriately stern look. "Now, look, Laurie...You're just a fourteen year old girl..."

                "Fifteen!" corrected Laurie, giggling, her big smiling eyes locked on mine.

                "OK, anyway, you're much too young to be acting like this with me. Now you are a very nice, pretty, young girl and you should be with a boy your own age."

                Laurie pouted, her big wide eyes showing her frustration. "But why can't we - "

                I jumped out of the car, raced around to Laurie's side and yanked open the door for her. "That's enough, Laurie. Now if you don't mind I have to get going..." Laurie giggled and hopped out, standing next to me, still looking up at me with those big, love sick eyes.

                "Thanks, Mike," She said breathlessly, "I know you're doing this to be nice.." She stood before me on her tiptoes and closed her eyes, puckering her lips, I guess hoping for a kiss good-bye. I gave her a little peck on her forehead, and she frowned in disappointment.

                "Goodbye, Laurie. You're a great girl. Take my advice and get a boyfriend your own age." I remember long after I drove off I could still see her in the rear view mirror standing on the sidewalk watching after me and waving good-bye.

                Well, anyway, back to what I had mentioned earlier. Last year in college I had somehow contracted this rare African virus that had popped up first in the states several years ago. My doctor wasn't real clear about it, but it basically would kill me - or, I guess, put me in a coma - unless I started receiving frequent vaccinations of another form of the weakened virus. I guess they try to build your immune system up to a point where your body neutralizes the virus. I don't know, I'm not really the science type. This would all be fine and good, I guess - I felt fine - but the vaccine, over time, makes you smaller. Barely noticeable at first, but the longer it takes your body to build up the antibodies, the smaller you get. Though it was pretty rare, I had seen some news clips of some guys around the country who shrank to, like, less than a foot. Freaky to watch. Most patients, my doctor says, get better far before that. I just hoped I'd get better quickly. So, I went to school again in the fall, trying to act like everything was normal, more or less at my own size. But, I had begun to notice a change throughout the semester. By the time I had shrunk from my normal height of six feet to five-foot nine, I thought it a good idea to return home and not return for the following semester.

                So, it was around Christmas, a Saturday night and Becky and I were planning to go out to dinner and the movies. I arrived at her house a little early, and knocked at the door. I was a little surprised to see an unfamiliar young woman open the door, and I greeted her nervously. Maybe it was one of Becky's friends from high school? Did Becky hang out with such hotties? "Oh, hi, I'm here to see Becky..." The girl giggled coquettishly, holding her hand over her mouth and smiled brightly. There was an awkward silence, so I continued. "My name's Mike. I'm a friend of hers..." just then the seed of recognition popped into my head...

                She started laughing, and then spoke, "Mike! Now don't tell me you've forgotten about me again?" My mouth dropped open. It couldn't be. "Duh! It's me, Laurie! I guess I must've grown some more since I saw you!" She had a flirty smile and was leaning languorously against the door frame. My God, did she grow. Little Laurie had somehow been transformed into this...this...What had happened to the cute little girl I knew? Standing in the doorway was a sexy young woman, full breasts straining against a fuzzy pink sweater, graceful curves of her hips and long, coltish legs poured into a skin tight pair of white pants. And staring at me was no longer a cute little pixie face, but the face of a mature young woman, her high cheekbones and full lips giving her an air of sophistication. I guess I was sort of in a state of shock, because I didn't say much before she laughed and invited me inside. As she walked ahead of me I found it hard not to get distracted by her rolling hips. "Becky's still getting ready. Why don't you come in to the living room and wait a while?" My heart was still beating fast and I was taking deep breaths to try to calm down. Suddenly Laurie stopped and turned towards me. I had been walking right behind her and had almost bumped into her, so we ended up standing almost toe to toe with each other, her face inches from mine. As she smiled and looked into my eyes I noticed she had grown taller, too - by now she must've been five foot six or so. "Know where we are now?" she asked, giggling.

                "Uh, what do you mean? In your house?"

                "No, silly!" She smiled and signaled with her eyes above our heads, where a green sprig of leaves was hanging. "We're under the mistletoe!" My objections were suddenly cut off as Laurie leaned in and planted a kiss full on my lips, pressing her body to mine. At first I was too shocked to react, but I quickly came to my senses and started to try to push her away. It was a bit of a struggle - but I succeeded in fending her off and stood holding her at arms' length.

                "Laurie! What's come over you?" But whatever I said didn't seem to register as she just stood there smiling directly into my eyes, a grin on her face. Yikes. She was hot, and I wasn't a guy who usually got a lot of attention from girls, but I didn't need this. Becky would be pissed - at me, at her, just pissed.

                Becky was coming down the stairs, ready for our date. I must have seemed a little breathless as I greeted her, but if she noticed she didn't say anything. Laurie for her part was smooth - she acted like nothing had happened, smiling and wishing us both a nice evening. It wasn't until after we had driven away that my thumping heart started to return to normal. I even got up the nerve to steer Becky into conversation about her little sister, though she didn't seem too keen on talking about her. Maybe a little jealous of Laurie's blooming figure. No real boyfriend, Becky said, because her doctors were concerned that her hormonal condition may be transmissible. "Yeah, but she's a little flirt. But she knows she can't do anything with these guys. She's just turning into a major tease." And how, I thought. If I had had a girl that looked like that to lust after in high school...well, I wouldn't have gotten much homework done.

                After the movie Becky and I had our usual heavy petting session in the car. No sex - not that we ever had, because my doctor assured me that intercourse was the way this virus thing was transmitted between men and women. But, Becky was usually up for other activities. Good thing for me – because another effect of this virus was an increased libido. And I still had Laurie on my brain. And so, as we made out, I couldn't help but compare Becky to her voluptuous little sister. I had to confess that, well, Becky’s breasts seemed a bit on the small side, and her hair didn't tumble and flow like Laurie's as we had walked through the house. While I kissed Becky, all I could think about were Laurie's big, bright eyes sparkling with that confidence that came with those hips, those legs, that beautiful body of hers. And, as Becky's hand went to my member, stroking it, I saw her little sister's smile, imagined my hands on her thin waist, cupping her full, soft breasts. I came with visions of Laurie's radiant face gazing into mine. Did I feel guilty, thinking about my girlfriend's sister as she beat me off? Well, yeah, I did. And, hey, Becky's my girl. I was determined to put the little incident with Laurie behind me. Within a few days I had pretty much forgotten about it. 

                At home, my shrinking began to accelerate. A lot. My mom was cool, taking good care of me but not making me feel like a helpless freak. By the beginning of the summer, I had shrank to three feet tall, and was able to do less and less by myself, but we had set my room up to give me a good deal of independence. She was also a decent seamstress, so she was able to put together some makeshift clothes for me so I didn't have to buy kid's stuff.

                While loathing to be in public in this state, I finally began to get antsy and one day had my mom drop me off at the Mall to get something to read. It was really strange walking around as a little guy with all these giants towering over me. I pretty much kept my head down and headed for the bookstore - I sure didn't want to see anyone who recognized me. While looking through the magazines, the most beautiful pair of legs appeared next to me. Impossibly long, shapely and lovely, and those feet! Wrapped in beautiful sandals with big high heels. My head was below hip height - so without looking up I could only see her from her legs down. As I stole a quick look up at the rest of her my heart caught in my throat...Laurie! My god! Look at the body on her! I immediately hid my head, hoping she wouldn't notice me in this diminished state; I would be mortified.

                My heart was pounding like mad, I was shaking all over as I continued to sneak sideways glances at those shapely legs. I knew I should slip away before she saw me, but I was paralyzed by the sight of her. So I just stood there frozen, hardly able to breathe, consumed by my raging libido and waiting helplessly until she decided to move on.

                Unable to stand it any more, I was just turning to put my magazine away and ignominiously slink to the back of the store when I heard a familiar voice from above. "Mike is that you? Ohmigod! It can't be... " Jeeeez. "Mike! It IS you! Wow!" The girl had to bend over almost double to look down at me. I looked sheepishly up at the huge smiling face towering over me.

                "Oh...hi Laurie.." Laurie, grinning from ear to ear, crouched down to bring her face close to mine. Even so, she was still taller than me - I had to tilt my neck to look at her.

                "Wow, Mike! Just look at you! I mean, Becky told me all about what's happened, but - wow! I just can't get over how you look!" She unabashedly looked me up and down several times.

                "Er, um... yeah. (cough) It's really something, huh?" I was never so embarrassed in my life. Of all people to run into, why did it have to be her?

                "What magazine are you reading? Maxim, huh? For the articles…right?" she teased. I tried to avoid her gaze, looking down at the floor. "Uhh..it was the only one I could reach, besides the kid's magazines..."

                "Oh, okayyy..." Laurie, wearing a tight, short dress, was still grinning and looking down at me with that huge lovely face and those big eyes. I think she could tell I was really embarrassed. "Hey, Mike, it's okay! Don't be shy… It's just me! Besides..." she reached her big hand out to touch my face. "I think you look really cute!"

                I needed to get out of there – fast. "Er, thanks, Laurie, but, look, I really have to get going. I need to catch the bus so I can get back home..."

                "Hey, wait! Don't go running away! Can't we walk around together? I'm all by myself."

                "Er, Laurie, I'd love to, but, um... like I said the bus will be leaving soon. I-it's the last one today, so I can't afford to miss it. I can't drive a-anymore 'cause, well, you know..."

                Laurie frowned, her face scrunching up as her eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, she broke out into a big smile. "Hey!  I can give you a ride home - I've got my car here!"

                "Um, n-no, thanks, Laurie. I don't want you to go through so much trouble for me. I'll be OK."

                "No! It's no trouble at all. In fact, it's perfect - I only have my learner's permit so I need a driver to sit with me."

                "Yeah, but still, I..."

                "Pleeease, Mike? It'd really be a big help. And I'd LOVE to give you a ride! Becky should be home, you can visit her."

                "Well..."

                "Great! Thanks Mike! This'll be such fun! Did you ever think I'd be driving you around?" I really don't know how I let myself get talked into these things. I felt I was in a daze as I found myself trailing after Laurie through the Mall, her beautiful long legs and sexy rear leading me out to her car. I was too little to open the door to her SUV, so she opened it for me, waiting patiently while I laboriously climbed up into the front seat. I was pretty quiet the whole way back as she gaily prattled on, talking non-stop about her friends at school, or whatever. The whole time I was desperately wrestling to suppress my thoughts and keep my gaze straight ahead. Nonetheless, I couldn't keep myself from stealing sidelong glances of her curvy profile.

                Though Laurie had said Becky was back at her house, when we got there nobody was around. I really wanted to get back home, but Laurie convinced me to wait around at her place for Becky. She called Becky's cell phone, leaving a message that we were here.

                "Want to hear the new CD's I bought?"

                "Um, sure, Laurie." Who knows how long we had to wait? It was a lot better than the two of us just sitting there in awkward silence.

                "Great! C'mon up to my room - we can hear it on my stereo." Laurie turned and started bounding up the stairs.

                "Uhh, Couldn't we listen to it down here?"

                Laurie turned and grinned down at me. "Are you kidding. My Dad's stereo is ancient. C'mon up."  She could see from my expression I still needed convincing. "Don't worry, Mike. There's nothing to be afraid of, I don't bite!"

                As I slowly clambered up the big steps one by one after the towering teen, I started to get this feeling that I was sliding down a slippery slope, that events were somehow overtaking me and I was just a pawn in the grip of fate. I knew I shouldn't be doing this, going alone into this girl's bedroom, but I couldn't stop myself. I was a bit out of breath when I finally reached the top of the stairs, with Laurie waiting for me. She showed me into her room and, I noticed, closed the door after herself. She kneeled down on the floor, putting a CD in the stereo, the big heart-shaped mound of her firm rear beckoning. The sight took what little breath I had left away and made me even more dizzy.

                She spun around to face me as she stood up and grinned "Wanna see what else I got at the Mall?"

                "Umm.. sure. What is it?"

                "It's a surprise. I think you'll really like it!" Laurie bounced in a single motion to her bed where her purchases lay. "Just wait right here and I'll be back out in just a second." She reached into her shopping bag and took out a small package, then disappeared into her bathroom, closing the door behind her.

                Somehow I wasn't getting a good feeling about this. What if Becky returned and found us together, as innocent as it was? I had a brief panic attack and decided to try to escape while I still could. Like walking though molasses, I made my way towards the bedroom door. Suddenly the bathroom door opened, "Well, what do you think?"

                My throat went dry and my breathing stopped. I can't recall - I may have cried out, or issued a pitiful squeak, but I was completely riveted by the vision before me. Laurie was standing in the doorway wearing a bikini, a bright yellow number that barely covered her astounding charms. The skimpy suit left nothing to the imagination - her long legs, sexy hips, wasp waist, flat stomach, and full breasts were looming before me, topped off by her beautiful face with that same grin, and those same big eyes smiling down right at me.

                "Well, Mike? Aren't you gonna say something?"

                I think I cleared my throat two or three times before I was able to croak out a response. "Umm... g-gosh, Laurie. (cough) T-that's quite a b-bathing suit."

                "Yeah," she giggled, as she looked in the mirror with a proud smile, "Cool, huh?" She turned around, giving me first a magnificent profile view of her big breasts, then a gut wrenching display of her round rear end. As she stood with her lovely backside towards me, she tugged at the little string holding the bikini bottom, "God, I have such a bubble butt. It feels a little tight. Do you think it fits me okay?"

This couldn't go on - I had to do something before I lost it completely. With a supreme effort, I tried to banish any thoughts of my sexual fantasies and struggled to get back to sobriety. Taking a deep breath, I attempted to make my small voice sound as deep and adult as possible. "Now look, Laurie. You're a very pretty young girl, but I just don't think that bathing suit is appropriate for you. It's just too revealing! Now Laurie, you're only fiftee..."

"I'm sixteen now." Laurie corrected.

"Okay, sixteen. Anyhow, that's still too young! Now, you look very nice, but - and I think your mom and dad would agree with me - you're just not old enough to wear something like that."

"Something like what? Something that shows off my body?" Laurie pouted coyly and batted her big eyelashes at me. "Don't you like it? Don't I look nice in it?"

"Y-you look great, Laurie. It's just - well, you're a very nice girl and I think you should wait until you're older before you wear this kind of thing..."

                Laurie burst into a huge grin and dropped to her knees, her big face looming before me.

"Oh, Mike! You're so sweet! You always say the nicest things! I just love it how you're always looking out for me!" She leaned over and gave me a kiss on my forehead, treating me to an incredible view of her cleavage, her breasts barely contained by her bikini top. She jumped back to her feet and wiggled off back into the bathroom, leaving me to practice my deep breathing in an effort to calm my heart. As the door closed behind her I felt like I had survived some kind of trial by fire. After a minute the bathroom door cracked open, and Laurie's pretty face peeked out. "Mike? Could you help me with something?"

Uh oh. "Umm.. sure, I guess, Laurie. W-what is it?"

"It's this top. It seems kinda stuck. I can't get it off. Could you help me untie it?" Still clad in her bikini, Laurie came out and sat down on her bed, turning her back to me and looking down at the strap behind her. "I think it's all knotted up. Can you come up here and see if you can get it undone?"

Once again feeling myself caught helplessly in the grip of some nefarious fate, I struggled to climb up onto the bed next to her. Even sitting on the bed with her sitting next to me, she still was a good couple heads taller than me. Her lovely back was completely bare save for the thin strap. I struggled to keep from trembling again as I gingerly approached her, and reached out with my small hands to try to unravel the knot. It really was stuck, horribly so, as if she had done it on purpose. As I worked on the difficult task I had to lean in close to her huge warm bare back, her long, graceful neck.

As I stood close to her, wrestling with the bikini top, my erotic fantasies again started to bubble to the surface. I found myself sweating, my breathing shallow as I feverishly worked so close to her. To my horror, I found I had developed a raging erection which was now straining at my pants. I prayed Laurie wouldn't look back at me, and desperately fought to keep from getting further aroused.

"Mike? Can I ask you a question?"

"Umm... sure." My voice squeaked as I spoke.

"Do you ever have, like, fantasies?"

"Uh.. (cough) Ummm.. what?"

"Well, now that you're so small. Do you imagine being with girls? And having them be…bigger than you? Like, what would happen. I know you see my sister every once in a while, but I know you two don’t mess around too much anymore - and she's kinda small and scrawny to begin with. Do you ever think about really big girls?"

"G-gosh, Laurie. (cough, cough) W-what makes you ask that?"

She turned around to look at me and I moved quickly to hide my hard on. "Well, sometimes when I see something on TV with, like a big girl and a little guy, and I think about how Becky said you've been shrinking, I think about you."  Was she serious? Or was she saying this just to see my reaction? I tried to keep my composure.

"(cough) Y-you d-don't say."

"Yeah, like the other night I was watching I Dream of Jeannie - y'know the reruns they show at night - and Jeannie took Major Nelson and shrank him down to doll size. Did you ever see that one?"

"Ummm.. I d-don't kn-"

"Well, anyway after I saw that show, I kept day dreaming about what it would be like to be Jeannie, and to, like, have a guy that was little. What you could do with him." She turned and looked at me, raising her eyebrows questioningly. "You don't mind me talking about this, do you?"

"N-no, Laurie. It's o-okay.." God I was so turned on.

"So, what does stuff like that make you think about?" She was curious, and obviously figuring out she was pushing my buttons.

I took a deep breath, then (against my better judgment) decided to plunge ahead. "Look, Laurie. I do. I mean…I have thought about being with girls. And me being so small..."

Laurie looked deeper into me, her beautiful face lighting up in a smile. "Really?? Oh, Mike, tell me about it!"

"Er, (cough) well..." I really wasn't sure how far I wanted to head in this direction...

"C'mon, Mike, Pleeease!" She was now turned completely around towards me, her huge breasts hovering just below my face.

"Well, all right. I guess I've had...f-fantasies, too. Like, I'm a l-little guy with a big w-woman. Er, like, a giantess, I mean." I had lost all sense of reason, being so very aroused.

"But, she wouldn't be a giantess. It's just you that's really small. She could be normal size, right?" Almost imperceptibly, she inched closer to me. I took in a waft of sweet perfume from her deep cleavage.

"Uhhh...yeah, I g-guess.."

"She could be just a normal sized girl. But she'd look really big to you, wouldn't she?" she said as she pushed back her shoulders, presenting a mind-numbing view of her breasts. I couldn't believe what was happening.

"y-y-yeah.."

"Kind of like how I look right now, hmm? Really…big."

I was speechless. She drew up taller and moved in towards me, brushing my cheek with her finger, putting her hand behind my neck. My breath became quick, shallow as I now looked straight into her big, firm breasts. Would she do it, would she actually try? The moment was silent, a pin could drop. A palpable energy filled the air between us - that of a girl slowly realizing the power of her developing body.

And then I felt it, the slow, gentle pressure of her hand urging me to her. At the same time, she began to lean in towards me. Was I actually this weak? Would I really let this girl, Becky's little sister, seduce me so easily? A fleeting wisp of willpower, a single thought of resistance, ebbed into me but quickly wilted as I watched her young, overly ripe bosom approach.

Just as I decided to close my eyes, to give in to my own desire and the temptations of this beautiful girl, to meet her soft flesh with my upturned face, a quick knock hit the bedroom door and the knob began to turn.

"Hellooo...? Mike? Laur? Are you guys in here?" Becky!

We bolted apart in a flash; I leapt to my feet on the floor as Laurie leaned back onto the bed. "Hey guys, what have you been...up...to?" Becky's voice was friendly but as she took in the situation - me quick of breath, probably flushed, Laurie dressed as she was with a thin smile on her lips - her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Laurie and I came up with excuses which somehow seemed plausible to me at the time. Listening to music, a quick run up the stairs in my weakened condition, getting ready for the tanning salon. I don't know how much of it she actually bought, but any outward signs of suspicion soon evaporated as Becky and Laurie continued chatting over my head, leaving me reeling and queasy with guilt. How could I have let myself get into this situation?

Soon, Becky decided it was time to take me home and I waved a quick goodbye to Laurie, our eyes meeting for only a second before I had to turn away. Our car ride back to my mother's house was uncomfortable - for me, at least. I think I overcompensated for my nervousness by talking too much.  Becky dropped me off with a quick peck on the cheek; as I had been shrinking, our relationship had begun to cool physically. She admitted she felt "weird" being intimate with a guy who was looking more and more like a little boy every day. We still hung out, though less and less often as she became busy with her summer job and preparing for her first year away at college. In the time that we did spend together, she (out of embarrassment for her boyfriend's dwindling stature, I guess) kept me away from her friends, her house, her family, and - notably - any chance of running into Laurie.

                Left, therefore, alone most days at home with no girlfriend around, no social outlets and no transportation (my mother away at work more often than not), I found myself with plenty of time to play on the computer and, I'm shamed to admit, fantasize about Laurie. Never before had I been so close to intimacy with a body like hers. God, those breasts, those hips, those legs, that beautiful face. All of my girlfriends throughout my life had been like Becky - cute, sometimes, but smart and plain rather than Barbie Doll. Laurie, rather, was all long, ripe, luscious curves, tanned and toned. I couldn't get the thoughts of her out of my brain, and kept replaying the scene on the bed over and over again in my head.

Though I continued to slowly shrink, my obsession grew along with my virus-fueled libido; the several photos I had of Becky that included her sister served as fuel for the fire. As did the stories downloaded from the GTS forums, all of which I read over and over with images of Laurie in mind. Thus my days came and went, jerking off to thoughts of my girlfriend's sister in between trips to the doctor, cordial visits from Becky and games of Scrabble with my mother. Nice life, huh? I wasn't too proud of myself but didn't have the willpower to stop.

                And then, several weeks after I was last at her house, I got an e-mail from Laurie. My throat caught upon seeing it in my inbox, and I immediately knew I needed to show caution. Perhaps I had been obsessing over Laurie recently, but I couldn't let her know I'd been thinking about her at all.

"Hi, Mike!!" her note began "How R you?? Becky hasn't mentioned u much so I thought I'd get in touch with u myself. I've been at the beach a LOT, hanging out with my friends, etc. etc. Hey!!! I got my license! Woooo! It's great 2 be able 2 drive myself around! How have u been feeling? What have u been up to?" If she only knew; maybe she's guessed? "How tall are u now? Are u like Major Nelson yet? <smile!> If u ever get that small let me know - I've still got clothes from my Ken & Barbie set u can have! Hugzzz- Laurie"

I delayed my reply a day or so, so as not to appear eager or over-interested. It was friendly and short, though I admitted - for better or worse - that I was bored and lonely. With that, I gave her an opening, nearly an invitation, for our correspondence continuing. Probably a mistake, but I was weak and obsessed and craved contact of any sort from her. I thought I could keep cool and handle an innocent relationship with her through e-mail, unbeknownst to Becky.

Her reply back to me came quickly, and began a series of daily correspondences which became - contrary to my original intentions - increasingly playful and flirty, to my aroused, guilty thrill. I was, I think, emboldened by my solitude and disconnect and hinted, I'm sure, at a friendly interest in her. Though I'm shamed to admit it, my e-mails to Laurie - now signed "Major Nelson" - became the highpoint of my day.

I was not, however, bold enough to suggest a meeting or invite her over to my empty house for an innocent visit. My conscience, I told myself, and respect for Becky, were still to strong. Or maybe I was just a freaking wimp, too weak to stop thinking about her and too timid to do something about it. All I know is that my growing sense of guilt began to make the time Becky and I spent together less and less comfortable; I no longer looked forward to her visits as I once had.

Laurie, for her part, kept me enthralled with stories of her mundane, everyday life. I hung on her every inarticulate word describing her teenage comings and goings. Subtly, I like to think, I encouraged her as she peppered our correspondence with news of her growth spurt ("Five foot eight! I'm going to be taller than my dad if this doesn't stop soon!!") and new lingerie collection ("I just outgrew my last 32DD. The only new bra I could find in a bigger size at the department store with my mom makes me look like somebody's grandma!")

Let me give you some excerpts from a few of our conversations. First, my response to her new height:

"That's okay. If you keep growing you can be a basketball player. Just have to learn how to play. Or you can star in the movie version of 'She-Hulk'. But, I dunno how you'd look in green skin. :)"

She replied: "Or, hey, I can be in movies for those guys on the internet who are all into giantesses. I'd have 2 get really big!! Have u seen those websites?"

I feigned ignorance, but she persisted.

"You should. I think you'd like them , Major Nelson!! They're all about big girls. And little guys. And what the big girls do to the little guys. Some guys want to be squished. Some want to be eaten. Some want to be cuddled. You can tell me what YOU’D like!! <grin!>"

In reply I lied, telling her sites like that weren't for me and that "I don't think I'd want to be squished. I just want to be normal size again."

"Oooooh! Poor baby! I'll make sure I try not to squish you! :)"

For me this thread was getting too provocative, so I ended it with a "thanks for the no-squish rule. No eating, either," and a change of subject, but not before I mentioned - a big mistake, I know, "but that doesn't mean I don't like to cuddle!" I hoped that it came across as a joke. Mostly. God, I'm an idiot.

I didn't do too much better in self restraint when she mentioned her new bra: "I'm sure you don't look like somebody's grandma. Grandmas have wrinkles and livers spots everywhere and smell like Noxema."

"Well, maybe no wrinkles, but look at this thing!" Her reply came with an attached file. "I used my dad's digital camera with a timer 2 take this." The picture was a grainy frontal shot of her seated at her computer with a white, satin, rather industrial looking bra covering her full chest. My god, my jaw dropped. "Let me know if you want more pictures."

Needless to say, I beat off to this picture of this young girl in her big, womanly bra more times than I want to admit before I could muster a halfheartedly humorous reply, "Wow! You could carry your schoolbooks in that thing!"

Her response filled my sick little head with images, "Or maybe I could carry YOU in it!! Would you fit yet??"

Once again, this was getting too heated for my weak heart and battered conscience, so I assured her that I had no intention of trying to fit inside her bra. Her response: " :( ".

I did, however, break down and told her, sure, it would be okay if she wanted to send me more pictures, that I didn't get to see many friendly human faces these days. What I got were not necessarily pictures of her face. More fuel for my erotic fantasies, a new attachment every few days ("I'd send more but itz kinda hard sneaking the camera out of my Dad's briefcase. He uses it at the lab.") Mostly pictures of her posing - innocently, I admit - in different outfits ("My new sweater from Old Navy." "My new one-piece. Too 'Baywatch'??" "My dress from our spring formal - boy! I don't fit in this anymore!!") Nonetheless, her body looked to be approaching utterly fantastic, the sort of curves men drool over.

She asked me, at one point, what I did with the photos. Again, I lied, saying I deleted them along with her notes. Truth is, I had started a pretty good sized "Laurie" folder of .jpgs and e-mail. Her next reply was accompanied by a close-up shot of her smiling, eyes gleaming and bright with a hint of mischief. She was leaning towards the camera, her cleavage flowing from a now far-too-tiny yellow bikini top, over and around a hapless Ken doll, trapped between her breasts. "I don't think you'll throw this one away!!"

                It was, at this point - floored as I was by this last photo - that I decided our correspondence had gone beyond the point of healthy flirting. Not that any flirting with your girlfriend's younger sister should be considered healthy. I had to find the resolve to end it. Though it was tempting to play along and further my obsessions, my fantasies, she couldn't be lead to believe that there would ever be a real relationship between the two of us. I was in college! Older, more mature. And she was the little sister of my girlfriend. Too young for me. Wasn't that right? What would it look like if someone - friends, my mom, Becky, her family - suspected I had the hots for little Laurie? That poor little Mikey, so small, left to his own devices, had become infatuated with his girlfriend's overdeveloped little sister. Pathetic, that's what they'd think. Pathetic little pervert. Didn't want that, did I?

And so I stopped. Stopped replying to her e-mail. Even as I continued to stare at her pictures. Even as I built and nurtured further fantasies of the two of us. Even as she continued to send me e-mail; try as I might, I was unable to discard them before reading, and became dismayed, alarmed, and absolutely spellbound by the further photos. More shots of her with the Ken doll: held to her bosom lovingly, or covered with kisses, or wrapped in her bra.

After nearly two weeks of unanswered mail, she became bold enough to call my house during the day when she knew my mother was out at work. Caught off guard, I answered (still just big enough to manage a normal-size phone) and exchanged pleasantries for a bit. Immediately, however, I was aroused and pulled up a screen shot of her on my monitor to place a face with the voice. Nervously explaining away my recent inattention to her e-mail as "just being busy", I finally admitted, with sweaty palm and cracking voice, that I didn't think it was a good idea that we speak to one another.

Her tone remained bubbly but disappointed. "Oh, why not Mike? I think you're so cute and funny. I really like talking to you a lot." It was at this point that I realized that my hand was stroking myself through my pants to the sound of her voice. I acquiesced for the moment and sat back, listening to her talk about me, talk about herself, and talk about Becky.

"She tells me about you, y'know. She tells me she doesn't kiss you anymore, because you're so small. Because you're getting to be like a little doll." A short, tense silence as I continued to masturbate, having lowered my pants.

"Uhhh...uh-huh."

"That must really be hard, huh? Being so small. Being so small and not having a girlfriend to kiss you anymore."

"Unhmm - well, Unh-huh." Oh god, I hoped she couldn't hear me.

"Would you want me to kiss you? I could kiss you, Mike. I could kiss your little face. I could kiss your little body…I could kiss you all over." Jesus. Christ.

"Unnhhh...Nuh-Nuh-No. No L-Laurie. I d-d-don't thu-think..." I trailed off weakly.

She thought in silence for a moment. "Why, Mike? Are you afraid of me?" Another silent moment as I neared the point of climax, "Hmmmm?"

Oh god. "I-I h-have to g-go.." With that I dropped the receiver and came in a torrent onto my chest and stomach, pumping myself furiously as I looked at the picture of her face.

Thereafter, I didn't receive another e-mail from her, and decided not to answer the phone while home alone. One evening two weeks later, however, Becky's mom called and asked me to attend a little going-away family lunch for Becky. She was leaving for Northwestern early the next week; the family was taking a road trip to bring her to school. I accepted the invitation, in part out of duty and friendship for Becky, but also, I think, with nervous anticipation of an excuse to see Laurie - this time in a controlled environment, a gathering of others.

                My mother dropped me off at Becky's around one o’clock, and was leaving straight from there to the airport for a business trip. The family was finishing packing the minivan for their roadtrip to Chicago. Immediately I noticed Laurie's absence; though certainly for the best in the end, my heart sank a bit silently.

                So, the four of us had a nice little lunch together in the early afternoon, Becky's mom and dad polite enough not to dwell on my size so much. I knew her parents liked me, and seemed to think we'd end up together once I got over my "health issues". I tended to be vague on details regarding my diagnosis, but I think her father had an idea as to my condition.

As we were cleaning up (me doing what I could at my now twelve-inch height), Becky's mother took me aside to thank me for coming, to thank me for being a good friend to Becky. "And, honey," she said, as she was drying the last of the dishes, "we're headed straight to the interstate from here. It's nearly four o'clock and we're so late already. Laurie said she'd be back from her doctor's appointment by now, so she should be home soon - I just spoke to her on the cellphone. She's not coming with us - she practically begged me to stay home this weekend on account of cheerleader tryouts. Aren't those usually after school starts? Anyway, do you mind if she drives you home? I know she'd want to see you, she's always liked you so much."

My heart skipped a beat and began to flutter, my palms sweating. "Uhhh...no, that should be okay."

"Good. I'll tell Becky, though, that our neighbor will give you a ride. I don't think she trusts Laurie with you in the car. Being a new driver, and all. She's so thoughtful of you."

"Uhhh, sure, whatever."

                And, so, after a brief, friendly goodbye between Becky and myself which ended in a quick kiss (more, I think, for her parents' benefit than mine), they left me on the couch watching television as they set off for their long weekend trip to Chicago. So I waited, absentmindedly surfing through channels with the family's absurd remote (why do they make these things so big?) trying to prepare myself for Laurie's arrival. How should I behave? What could I expect out of her? The smartest thing, I figured, was to insist that I needed to get home right away and keep conversation pleasant and short. What worried - and excited - me was what I would do if she had her mind made up for something else. She certainly wasn't rushing home to see her family off, or to keep me from waiting. I think I sat there, my heart thumping, running through the possibilities, for nearly an hour before I heard her car pull into the driveway. My throat went immediately dry as I tried to settle down, to try to look comfortable and relax.

                "Hellooo?" she announced as she opened the front door, "Anybody home?" I turned around on the couch but, being so small, I couldn't see her as I called out in greeting. Between my voice being so weak and the volume of the television, I don't think she heard me. "Mike?" she called as she walked into the room, "are you in here?" The sound of the TV brought her over.

      "Hi there," I said as she rounded the couch. I sat myself into a confident pose - or, as confident a pose as one could mange at twelve inches tall.

      "Ooooo!" she squealed as her widening eyes caught sight of me and her hand flew to cover her mouth in surprise. She stifled a giggle and stood erect. "Mike! Look at you!" I tried to keep myself from ogling her, tried to maintain eye contact, as she bent at the knees into a crouch to look at me. The sneakers at the end of her long, smooth, golden legs were bright white. A small pair of faded denim shorts rode tight on the curves of her shapely hips. A loose, white button down shirt was tied at her midriff, exposing a sliver of flat, tanned abdomen and a brief hint of cleavage. Below the shirt she had on, it appeared to quick glance, some type of white tank top. "It's so nice to see you again!" she chirped, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "Did my parents leave?"

                I answered her casually, describing our pleasant lunch and the plans that she was to drive me home. She seemed not to acknowledge my last statement and asked me if I'd like anything to drink. Before I could reply, she had stood up and turned away, walking to the kitchen as she asked "Coke? Iced tea? Apple Juice?"

                Her hips rolled and swayed as I called after her "...uhhh, water would be fine." I hadn't really been eating much recently, and didn't think I could tolerate much more than water. She, however, made no sign that she had heard me, and began to undo the knot tying her shirt as she left the room. Crap. What was I in for? She had orchestrated this perfectly, and I didn't think my best option was putting my foot down and demanding a ride home. And, who was I trying to kid? The thought of having some time with this knockout little sister of my girlfriend was secretly thrilling.

                When she returned with two glasses of iced tea, she had completely unbuttoned her shirt, which now hung open and revealed a white lycra tank top molded around the bulges of her chest and reaching nearly to her navel. She set the glasses on the table, took the remote from where it lay beside me, and turned off the television. Looking first down at me, then to the glasses, she gasped and giggled again. "Oooh! I'm sorry! You'll never be able to drink all that!"

                "Uhh...no," I replied, "that's a whole lot of tea."

                "Here," she said, as she moved to sit beside me, "let me help." With one motion she planted her round, firm rear on the cushion next to mine and began to remove her shirt - as if it might restrain her from the task at hand. I tried to look straight ahead at the drinks but was intent on her in my peripheral vision. Narrow shoulders back, chest out, she pulled the shirt from her, demonstrating nicely the shape and size of the breasts below her top. She picked up one drink from the table, saying, "Now then, let's give this a try," and approached me with the huge glass. "I hope you're thirsty!" I glanced up quickly at her; she peered down her nose at me over a mischievous smile.

Back to the drink, I tipped my head back to meet its lip as she tilted it gently toward me. At first I thought this might work, as I began to gulp the liquid which lapped against my mouth. "There we go!" she chirped, "How does that taste?" My stomach turned, and quickly I could take no more. The tea began to overflow around my face and spill down my chest. "Oh no!" she squealed, pulling the glass from me as she began to giggle again, "look at this!"

I managed to laugh myself but was actually feeling rather humiliated as this luscious teenage girl began to wipe my face with her discarded shirt. I stole quick glances at the jiggles of soft flesh through her cleavage as she worked. "There," she cooed as she finished drying me, "that's better. Are you still thirsty?"

"Uhh, no. I'm quite done, thanks." I tried to smile and laugh off the embarrassment, tried to look cool.

                “Okay, well, I’m glad you’re here.” She bundled her shirt into a ball and set it on the couch beside her. It looked like she had something on her mind. “There’s stuff I wanted to talk to you about. Can you stay for a little while?”

                Say no. Say no. It’s easy. No. I Have to get home. Say it. No no no. “Uhhh…sure. What’s up?” Idiot.

                “Well, it’s about Becky.” Laurie sat demurely on the couch, one lean, coltish leg tucked beneath her, her hands folded in her lap. This might be innocent after all. I turned to face her, sitting cross legged indian-style on the cushion. “I don’t think she’s been very nice to you recently,” she continued thoughtfully, tucking a wave of honey brown hair behind her ear, “when you need all the support you can get.” Well, this surprisingly sounded like genuine, mature concern. Did it have another purpose?

                I decided to tread carefully, and assured Laurie that I realized Becky had been very busy recently, she was being very supportive, and that our relationship remained strong. I had every hope, I said, that we could remain together even as she was away at college.

                “Hmmm. Mike,” Laurie pursed her lips and looked down at me, choosing her words carefully, “Becky’s been seeing another guy.” My brow furrowed. “All summer.” I winced in disbelief. “A lot.” Uggh. “She had been going out with him a few nights a week. You might know him – he’s that guy who’s also going to Northwestern this year.”

                Yeah, I knew him. Randy. Or was is Ricky? Rudy? Whatever. Some guy in her class.

                “She’s been talking to me about him for awhile now, and she didn’t want my parents to know…’cuz they like you so much and…well, I knew she had plans to tell you but…”  But what? Why was I hearing this from Laurie instead of Becky herself? “She had a letter for you. She was going to mail it soon, next month, after she got to school.” Laurie paused hesitantly before continuing, “But I took it. From her bag, this morning. I knew what it was going to say,” she said sheepishly, “so I opened it.”

                “You opened it?” I was a little flabbergasted. “You opened the letter that Becky wrote to me? Jeez! Did you read it?”

                “Yes.”

                I was actually not as mad, or upset, as one would expect. I think I had, at this point, just felt so helpless that I was getting apathetic, seeing my life run without my control by people in the normal-sized world. “Why wouldn’t she give it to me herself? What did it say?”

                “You want to read it?” Her expression was one of girlish concern, but she had another, queer look on her face.

                “Uhhh…sure. Do you have it?” I asked. With that she pulled a piece of notebook paper from her pocket, unfolded it and lay it down on the cushion next to me. I didn’t need to read much to get the gist of it. Becky was breaking up with me. Saying she met a guy at school, mentioning nothing of the summer. “Well, that’s that,” I said, as chipper as I could manage, a catch in my throat. I was a bit upset, sad, I guess. Not only getting dumped by my girlfriend, but also what it represented. I was shrinking, and slowly losing my life, watching it all drop away. My relationships. My future. Everything. “Sucks to be me.” I tried to smile.

               “I’m soooo, so sorry, Mike. I opened the letter ‘cuz, well, I just thought, I guess, that this was a crappy way for Becky to break up with you. I thought it would be better if I told you. If you heard what really happened. If you found out now rather than later.”

                I turned my face away from the letter and looked up at Laurie. Her smile was warm and compassionate, lighting up a face of fine cheekbones and delicate jaw. God, she really was a beautiful girl. I should be angry, but who can be mad at someone this pretty? Looking away, I muttered thanks.

                “So,” she continued, “this way you can get on with your life. You can forget about Becky. You can start dating other girls.”

                What did she mean by that? I was, at that point, awash with enough self-pity that I had let my guard down. “Dating other girls? Who would ever want to date me now? I’m a twerp.”

                “Come on now, Mike. You’re a great guy. You’re cute and funny and lots of girls want to go out with you.”

                “Yeah? Like who?”

                “Well,” she smiled, and batted her long eyelashes coquettishly, “me. I’d want to go out with you.”

                Oh boy. I was on a slippery slope, and had probably said too much already. Yet, my suffering self-esteem kept me from turning off this kid completely. Part of me – heck, maybe most of me by now – enjoyed this opportunity to flirt with a pretty girl. As I’ve said, I’m not generally much of a chick magnet. But, I had to remain careful. “Now, that wouldn’t be fair to Bec-“

                “But Becky just dumped you, remember? Forget about Becky,” she shifted her weight and inched closer, “go out with me.”

                “U-uh, Laurie, I c-can’t,” I stammered. She was smiling mischievously again, looking down at me over the swells of her chest. “You’re…too young. You’re a kid.”

                She cocked her head, pouting. “A kid?” she pushed her thin shoulders back, demonstrating the size of her new breasts, asking, “Do I look like a kid to you?”

                Held speechless for a moment, to her delight, I could do nothing but take in the view of their shape from below. Finding my tongue once again, I stuttered in reply “T-th-that’s not what I-I mean. Y-you’re obviously a v-very beautiful girl, and you sh-should have no problem finding-“

                “You think I’m beautiful? Really?” She interrupted, bouncing in her seat excitedly. “What makes me beautiful, huh?”

                Okay, I was in trouble. “W-what do you mean?”

                “I mean, what do you like about me? What parts of me are beautiful?” She was getting a bit giddy now, and more obviously flirty.

                “I don’t thin-“

                “Oh, c’mon, Mike, c’mon. Tell me!”

                “Well, uhh…” Okay, think. You don’t want to sound like a pervert, “I like your…” but you do want to be nice, give her a little boost, “…lipstick…?”

                “My lipstick?” Her eyes opened wide, her smile a little crooked, “My lipstick, huh?” She sat back a bit and reached into her front pocket, pulling out a silver cylinder, text up its side reading “Spoiled Brat”. Uncapping the tube, she leaned in once again, her face close to me, and began to apply the frosty pink, translucent lipstick as she said “let me put on a nice, fresh coat for you, then.” I watched her silently for a bit, expertly running the stick over her full, moist lips, painting them with fresh color. I found myself becoming aroused.

                She saw me watching her, puckered as if for a plush, glossy kiss, and asked me “How about my lips? Do you like my lips?”

                Wanting to keep my demeanor light, trying to appear relaxed, I shot back quickly in mock seriousness “Hmm..nah, just the lipstick. The name fits.”

                She pouted prettily, looked at the lipstick case and read aloud “Spoiled Br- Ooooh! You jerk!” She began to giggle, picked up a throw pillow and exclaimed “You’re the brat!” while swinging the pillow at me. My small body was thrown back, against the arm of the couch. Though surprised, caught off guard, I was not hurt and laughed along with her. I leaned back against the armrest. Her eyes glinting and mischievous, she giggled again, “I think YOU should wear it, since you like it so much!”

                Suddenly she was on me, trying to press the lipstick to my face. I half-heartedly fought at her but was – at my small size – mostly ineffectual. She pushed my flailing hands out of the way and, still giggling, began to smear lipstick across my mouth. “Shh…shh…stop squirming!” she laughed in mock annoyance. I turned my head this way and that, playfully avoiding her ministrations, but she took my chin in her hand to steady my struggle. “There we go, that’s better,” she cooed, as we both quickly calmed down, “now hush.”

                I watched her pretty face, her dancing eyes, intent now on her task of carefully applying the creamy lipstick about my lips. She was gentle, almost meticulous, as, with confident ease, she covered me with her lipstick. I guess this was a little humiliating, but I was becoming more and more aroused.  Why was I letting her do this? I asked myself. She must be thinking the same thing.

                “Well, now,” she said as she finished, studying my face, “don’t you look pretty!”

                “Yeah, thanks,” God, I was so turned on, “but is pink my color?”

                She started to giggle again and furrowed he brow teasingly. “I dunno. I think it looks better on me.” With that, she reached over to the table – allowing me to steal a glance of her full breasts stretching her top in profile – and grabbed a tissue. Leaning in now even closer, and with the same care she used in its application, she began to dab and scrub the lipstick off my face like a mother cleaning a messy child. I couldn’t keep my eyes from darting in and out of the dark cleavage yawning in front of me, or running over the round, silky swells rising from her neckline.

                “So, Mike,” she said casually as she lingered, slowly blotting the last of her lipstick from my face, “what else do you like about me?”

Again my gaze dropped to her wobbling chest for an instant. “You mean…uh…physically?”

“Yes,” she said, feigning exasperation, “physically.”

“Well, I, uh, kinda like your hair.”

“Oh really? My hair?” She sighed, trying to sound annoyed. After a moment of thought, she quickly changed position on the couch. She was suddenly crouched on her knees, facing me, hands planted widely on either side of my shoulders on the arm of the couch. I gasped, shocked, and held my breath as she brought her huge, beautiful face to within inches of mine and with one smooth, dramatic motion swept the mane of her long, golden brown hair over us.

The world outside was blocked by the lush, thick waves which flowed around me on all sides. All that remained was her – her hair, the sweet smell of her shampoo, and her huge face beaming wildly. She must have seen my reaction, surprised as I was with eyes wide and breath shallow, backed up against the armrest in retreat. Maybe she tasted a bit of fear in me. God, she was big. I felt trapped like a rat in its hole, and aroused beyond anything I’d felt in my life.  Our eyes were locked; she liked this, suddenly, I could tell.

“My hair, huh?” she teased, “Well, I washed it just for you. Here, have a closer look.” With that, she slowly tossed her head back and forth, running her thick, soft hair across my body in full, lazy waves. Lost in heady pleasure, I may, at this point, have moaned or sighed – for she seemed to notice I was enjoying myself, and continued caressing me with her flowing locks for a long moment.

When our eyes met again hers were alight. She knew she had my full attention, had a sense that her flirty games were gaining my interest. What a girl with looks like hers can do! She smiled at me silently for a while, studying me. I did my best to keep her gaze, fighting the urge to turn away in embarrassment, hoping against hope that my eyes didn’t stray to her chest.

Finally, she spoke again, her voice low. “Now, Mike, what else do you like?” She shifted her weight slightly forward, towards me. I now had to lean my head back on the armrest to keep her eyes. Still I was surrounded by her waves of hair, trapped by her downturned face. Her perfumed shampoo filled the air richly. “It’s okay, we’re all alone. You can tell me.” Her face moved up, farther away, as she broke my gaze.

Head craned back, I watched the tendons work in her long, graceful neck. “Y-you mean, b-besides your hair?” I croaked.

“Mmmhmm…”

“Besides your lips – a-and your lipstick?” I struggled to keep my gaze at her throat, aware of the looming swells of her chest which approached slowly from below.

“Mmmmhmm. Besides that.”

I swallowed hard. She was not going to make this easy. But what was I worried about? She was right, we were alone, and Becky had dumped me. What would it hurt if we fooled around like this a little? “W-well,” I stuttered, “y-you have nice, w-well, really…n-nice…legs.”

“Mmmm. Go on.”

I could no longer see her face. Still, she inched up higher, the expanse of her collarbone passing before me, until her huge breasts hung heavily from her thin frame above my head, stretching her white top. They filled my vision. I stammered, trying to continue conversation, “…y-yeah…your…legs are…really long. A-and…shapely. It l-looks like you w-work out. Like, a lot.” She didn’t seem too interested.

“Anything…else?” Her voice called from above. She had me right where she wanted me.

Though gradually acquiescing, my conscience held me near speechless. “Uuh…uuh…” I stammered, hypnotized by the sight of her, by her seductive air. She was so big, and so close, threatening to plaster me into the arm of the couch.

“How about my boobs, Mike?” Her voice dropped, “Do you like them?” Oh Christ. “Hmmm?” She shifted slightly, her breasts dropping even nearer to me. She filled my senses overpoweringly, warm and sweet. My heart beat fast.

Not getting an answer out of me, but sensing my growing arousal, she continued talking. “They’re getting big, huh? Bigger and bigger and bigger.” A single shimmy of her shoulders sent a corpulent wave through her flesh. “Do you like big boobs, Mike? Big boobs like…mine?” She paused, waiting for me.

Unable to resist any longer, I replied softly, almost under my breath, as I gazed into her cleavage.

“Hmmm? What was that, Mike? I couldn’t hear you.”

My throat caught as I answered, “y-y-yes…”  I swallowed dryly once more. “I s-said yes. I-I like b-big boobs. I like y-your…big…b-big boobs.”

“Really, now,” I could sense her growing excitement as I watched the outlines of her nipples slowly show themselves, becoming erect under the smooth, white material of her tight lycra top, “what do you like about them?”

I was nervous, nearly quivering with lust, and had lost use of my logic. “t-they’re…they’re…big.” Apparently I had lost use of the English language, also.

“Mmmhmmm,” she purred patiently, “they are. They are big.” She was probing me, seeing how far I would go, what she could do with her body. “What does it make you want to do, when you look at them?”

“I w-w-w…” my voice trailed off weakly, unable to find words.

“Does it make you want to…touch them?” she asked, lowering herself closer. The creamy skin of one breast was now nearly against my face. It would just take me raising my head off the armrest to plant my face against her. I didn’t dare.

“Does it make you want to feel them?” I felt the weight of her breast settle onto my hips, pressing my member hotly through my pants against my stomach. Oh god, I hoped she couldn’t feel me. Silently I fought the urge to rut up into her softness.

“You know, Mike, there are a lot of boys who like me. Lot of boys who’d like me to do this to them, who’d like to be right where you are now.” She gently, slowly, rolled her breast into me. She must, I thought by now, have felt me hard against her. Still, I resisted, making no move. “How does that make you feel?” Yes, she felt me, I was sure, for she rolled into me again, tempting me to respond.

I moaned audibly, encouraging her, and she started to press herself down into me, rubbing and rolling her heavy breast gently across my hips in a slow, undulating rhythm. I could take no more, my will collapsed; slowly I began to rock my hips up and down, into her firm flesh, taking her lead. God, if this girl had never been with boys before, she had sure done her research.

“Do you like to look at me the same way they do? The same way the boys at school look at my body? The way my teachers look down my shirt? Because they’re always looking. Always staring. It’s like they can’t keep their eyes off me.” She had me subdued with her soft, rolling breast, and all I could manage was one thought: that she had won. She had her older sister’s tiny boyfriend alone, all to herself, nearly paralyzed with lust for her ripening body and dry-humping her big, womanly tit.

“L-L-Laurie…” I moaned, “we s-should stop…” But my actions belied my words as I continued rubbing myself against her.

“Oh, why, Mike? It doesn’t look like you want to stop,” she backed away from me an inch, removing her weight from my body. I whined pathetically, and watched as she lowered the strap of her tank top off her left shoulder.

“Don’t you want to see more? Don’t you want to see more of me?” Her hand drew the strap midway down her arm, exposing new swells of flesh. “Aren’t you like all the rest? Don’t you want to see my big new boobs? My big, big boobs…” She peeled her top down farther, nearly reaching her nipple. “Don’t you want to see if you can fit in here? Hmm? Fit in my cleavage? Fit between my breasts?”  She moved up the couch another fraction – if she lowered herself back down again her breast would mash my face. “Hmmm, little man? Don’t you want to do that? You little, little man…”

She pondered me from above, comparing my tiny head to the size of her huge breast. “Oh god,” she said, almost in amazement herself, “you’re so small. You’re so, so small.” I felt dwarfed already; she was making me feel…fragile. “How did you get so tiny?”

Somehow I had found my tongue again, and was able to speak, weakly. “…it’s a-a virus, I h-have,” I stuttered, “..t-the Blake virus.”

Instantly I could feel her freeze, back away from me another inch. “What? Mike, what did you say?”

Still delirious, so close to this girl, I tried to gather myself and replied “the Blake virus, the thing that’s shrinking me.” Not really the full story – it was the treatments I was receiving, as far as I understood, that were making me smaller. “W-why?”

Suddenly she sat up, back on her knees on the couch, pulling her strap back onto her shoulder and staring down at me wide-eyed in what looked to be surprise. “Omigod! Oh. My. God!”

“What? What?” I asked, pulling myself together a bit more, “What’s up?”

“That’s the same thing I have! The Blake virus!” She tucked her hair behind her ear, “This is so weird!”

I agreed and, looking up at her, noticed her lost a bit in thought. I must not have had a real complete understanding of this thing; how could it be causing such widely different reactions in Laurie and myself? Were we receiving different treatments? Did we have different forms of the virus? And, wasn’t it only men who contracted the disease? (or, wait, didn’t I hear that there some woman involved in the original outbreak, years ago? I dunno. I never really paid attention.)

As we both settled down, we started to discuss our individual experiences. We were receiving, in some respects, similar treatments. In fact, come to find out, we both had the same doctor in the city. Makes sense – how many viral endocrinologists can there be, anyway?

Laurie, for her part, seemed to know as much or more about the disease than I did. Maybe comes from having a microbiologist as a dad. I, for example, hadn’t known that there were actually different forms of the virus. I guess I had the “male” strain, and was receiving injections of the “attenuated” (or, “weakened”, Laurie told me) form of the “female” virus. It keeps me from going into a coma – which is good, I guess – but also shrinks me along the way.

Laurie’s treatments, on the other hand, were of an attenuated “male” virus which kept her from getting sick but amplified her physical development. She said women – those past puberty – fought the disease less dramatically (and got less press than the handful of shrinking men you’d hear about in the news). Her case, in fact, was slowly going into remission, according to the doctor. He hoped she could stop her treatments over the next few months. She almost sounded disappointed.

Me? I hadn’t been told of any drop in my viral load since I was diagnosed, and had begun to come to terms with the fact that this thing could at some point be the end of me. Laurie seemed very distraught – close to tears, actually – over this idea, and it took all my energy to appear upbeat and positive until she became less upset. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit, though, that I stole many quick glances of her flushed, heaving chest as she calmed herself down.

Finally, to change the topic in some respects, I broached another issue. “Did you read the stuff the doctor gave you about, uhhh, the…warnings?”

“You mean, like, how the virus is transmitted?”

“Yeah.”

“Which is why you and Becky never had, well, never really had sex?”

Jeez. How much did Becky tell her? A little loose-lipped, I guess. “Uh, yeah.”

“And why they wanted me to stay away from having a real boyfriend, since they’re not too sure how girls give it to boys. Except, of course, for…” she trailed off.

I flushed a bit, “you mean, uh, have you been…?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been…” I felt embarrassed to say it, “…lactating?”

                “Mmmhmm.”

                “Huh,” I concluded matter-of-factly, trying to act clinical, curious, when really what I was becoming more and more aroused, knowing that the big, firm breasts of the young girl in front of me were swollen with milk. In fact, I think I felt my mouth slowly begin to water, my stomach roll in hunger. Why was that? “How..uh..does that feel?” I asked awkwardly, feeling myself redden.

                “Well, I don’t really ever have to – y’know – milk myself. But sometimes they feel really full, and sorta ache. Like, right now, in fact,” she pressed on one heavy breast from below absentmindedly. I tried to keep from noticing. “The doctors take samples every once in a while at the clinic with a pump-thingy.”

                What would they use these samples for? To check her viral count? To use in treatment for…others? I had to catch myself from running through the possible scenarios. So, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the conversation and confused by the implications, I suggested we call it an evening (somehow it had found its way past six o’clock). My libido was far enough under control, my lust far enough on the back burner, that I was able to find the resolve to say goodbye for the time being. I should run over things in my head for a while.

                “Aww,” Laurie sounded disappointed, “I thought you could stay for dinner.”

                “Uhh, well,” I found my resolve a little more fragile than I thought, “I should…”

                “C’mon. What else are you going to do? Your mom’s away all weekend. I’ll make us something nice.” Yikes. She sure had this planned out.

                “Well, uh, I really haven’t been eating since I got sick…” It was true. Since my diagnosis I’d been eating less and less. In fact, the iced tea I drank earlier was the closest thing to carbohydrates I’d had for several days. The sugar in it, in fact, had unsettled my stomach. My mother kept insisting I try to eat but my body wasn’t taking the hint or allowing me to keep anything of substance down. The thought of dinner really didn’t appeal to me.

                “So, alright, will you sit with me while I eat? I’m really hungry.”

                “Uhhh…I shou-“

                “Oh, Mike, come on. And then we can watch movies afterwards. It’ll be fun.”

                Crap. I felt myself weaken with the thought of spending the evening with this girl. She sounded, at this point, innocent enough. Maybe knowing that we both had the same condition, that intimacy between us could actually do us harm, had cooled her thoughts for me. And – if I stayed - it would give me the chance to look at her body in those tight clothes she was wearing. Nobody’s around, what’s the harm? “Alright,” oh my, I’m an idiot, “what are you cooking?”

                She was happy that I had agreed and, after I insisted I walk across the house myself, helped me up to a kitchen stool so I could watch her as she prepared a serving of macaroni and cheese. And, after she ate that, another. Our conversation over dinner were pleasantly playful

                “Wow,” I remarked as she rifled through leftovers in the refrigerator, “doesn’t your family feed you?”

                “Stop it! I’m just really hungry!” She’d been eating like this, she explained, ever since she started treatments. “I’m a growing girl these days!”

                As evening began to set in, we retired once again to the sofa in the living room. I sat on the front edge of the couch as Laurie read me the options of several movies the family had on DVD – mostly sappy, romantic comedies. To tell the truth, I don’t quite recall what we ended up seeing. What I do remember is, through the course of the movie, watching her as she gradually, inch by inch, reclined to her side from her sitting position on a far cushion, until she was stretched out on the sofa behind me. Pretending to be intent on the film, I was keenly aware of her giant presence behind me in the dark room.

                After the first movie, I boneheadedly agreed to another B-grade teen romance, hypnotized to arousal by the closeness of her body. I was secretly thrilled when, after changing disks, she climbed back onto the couch behind me and urged me to lie back and get comfortable. Did she mean back against her? Too timid, I reclined onto my side, also, next to her, facing the television. We were not in contact of any sort, but I could feel the warmth of her breasts so close behind me. As the movie dragged on, I felt her shift slowly towards me, and stiffened as her soft chest brushed my back. Slowly, closer and closer she came, tentatively rubbing her breasts more firmly into me, until her hand came over my side and rested against my chest, bringing me into a light embrace.

                If ever again I were to resist her, this was where I had to make my stand. But, all ideas of resistance were squelched as she gently began to rub my chest. We remained silent, both pretending to watch the movie but intent, rather, on the subtle signals between our two bodies. I, for one, was entranced, lost in her gentle hold, luxuriating in the softness of her flesh, waiting for her next move.

                The minutes wore on, and her hand moved slowly up my body, until it began to trace the lines of my throat, my jaw with tender caresses. I tilted back my head, encouraging her advances for the first time, and felt her fingers whisper across my cheeks and caress my face. Gradually a finger came to rest on my lips, rubbing them softly. Instinctively, my mouth parted slightly, a fraction, and she explored my bottom lip with her fingertip, teasing it with a single, painted nail. I felt her breath catch behind me as – once again acting on instinct – I returned her affection by running my lower lip against her finger.

                Now more confident, her ministrations continued as her fingertip traced my lips, parting them, attempting to work itself slowly into my mouth. Weakly, I began to kiss at it and, finally, to suck. But it was so big, her fingertip, and could not enter my mouth any further. Slowly, she withdrew it, only to run her other fingers, one by one, across my lips until her little finger rested inside my lips.

                She allowed me to suck at it, opening my jaws wider, and draw it into my mouth. My god, what was I doing? Sucking on the finger of this giant girl, encouraging her, allowing myself to be seduced. I sucked at its tip as well I could, for it filled a good part of my mouth, and closed my eyes. Aware only dimly, now, of the audio from the television, I found myself fantasizing that it was not a finger in my mouth. I imagined suckling at her breast, her full, ripe, teenage breast.

                It was too late now, I knew, to turn back. There was no chance of feigning disinterest in this girl. Laurie must now be realizing the desire and lust I secretly held for her, for her body. And so I sucked and kissed her finger more fervently, silently showing her, I hoped, how much I wanted her.

                “Mike,” I heard her whisper, regardless of the movie in the background, “you didn’t throw away those pictures I sent, did you?” She paused, so close to me, seeing if I would attempt an answer. None was to be had. “Do you get an…an erection…when you look at them?” Again she paused, gauging my reaction. I shut my eyes tighter, trying to escape the moment, as I felt myself flush red. “Do you touch yourself when you look at them?”

                Knowing she was to get no spoken answer from me in my shame, she withdrew her finger from my mouth and used her hand to gently roll me onto my back. Our eyes met, hers gazing down at me curious and alive as she continued “Mike, do you jerk off thinking about me?” I stared up at her wordlessly, too ashamed, too timid to respond, Her bright, wide eyes studied me. “Hmmm? Do you?”

                My silence was her answer. I watched her fight back a thin, pleased smile. She cocked her head and wet her glossy lips, running her eyes over my shrunken body, her fingers over my chest. “Mike,” she asked softly, “do you want to kiss?”

                My heart skipped, I paused to draw air. My answer sounded nearly like a sob. “y-yes.”

                She smiled sweetly, her eyes fluttering closed as her head descended on me I held my breath as I watched her giant, pink lips pucker, then pout moistly as they closed in to fill my vision. Suddenly I was both nervous and frightened, a small animal backed into a corner. I tried to back away from her huge, approaching mouth. But, before I could move, I was caught, her soft lips on my face, trapping me. Her mouth covered mine, engulfed it, and immediately I was hypnotized, awash with the pleasure of her plush lips covering my face with languid kisses.

                Recovering from my shock, I responded hotly, smacking and finally mouthing at her lips as best I could. But this was her moment, she could do with me as she wished, and I anxiously sensed her young passion building. Her lips controlled my mouth, my cheeks, my face, wetly turning my head to and fro at her whim. Soft moans rumbled through her and filled my ears. She kissed and sucked on me, gently licking over my closed lids, my tender throat with her firm tongue. My face became slick with her juices. Soon her tongue lapped its way across my face and attempted to force itself through my parted lips, into my mouth. Strongly she pushed into me, again and again, but I was too small. She sighed, plaintively, her breath trembling. I watched her mouth widen, her chin tilt as she moved in closer and drew my entire face between her lips.

                I squirmed in a mix of fear and delight as she sucked at my face, engulfing me between pillowy lips. I kissed at her tongue, licking it as it firmly massaged my face. She was opening wider, now, gradually working more and more of my head into her mouth. Her heady moans were rolling thunder to me, shaking me to my core. We made out heatedly for some time, her breath hot and quick around me as she gradually undid the snaps of my shirt. I drew my breath directly from her hot, steamy mouth.

                Allowing me fresh air, her lips occasionally drifted to my chest, now bare, and tentatively brushed my stomach. My loins clenched and shook to her feathery kisses across my abdomen. I groaned as my already engorged manhood twitched in spasm, growing harder still. “Oh…Ohhh…Laurie, Laurie…,” I breathed, fighting and struggling with myself, “we…we shouldn’t…”

                “Why?” she asked, kissing me again, her lips fluttering even lower down my belly, “Why, Mike? Why not?” She raised back away from me, looking deep into my eyes with an intense gaze, her plump lower lip bit between her teeth. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaving, legs and hips undulating. It was almost alarming, how turned on this girl was. Alarming because I was basically at her mercy. Alarming because I was on fire myself, not thinking clearly.

                I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. She smiled, noticing my gaze drift down her body. She was watching me watch her. God, I thought, look at those tits. She’s so…fucking…beautiful.

                “What is it, Mike? Do you want these?” A gasp escaped my lips as she drew a great breath and dropped a shoulder towards me, her tight top stretching to mold itself around the shape of her swollen breasts. She knew my weakness, obviously, for her big, maidenly bosom, now suspended above my head. I was staring straight up at one massive breast, straight at its nipple now visible through the white elastic fabric of her top.

                Her hand slid under my back to support my upper body, and she adjusted my position. “Is this what you want?” she asked. I watched, awestruck, as she slowly lowered her giant breast towards me.

                “..oh, god…Laurie…” I moaned weakly. Still she came nearer. My hands drew up near my face, a protective reflex.

                “Shhhh…just relax. We have all weekend. All alone. Just you and me. Lie back…just lie back and relax.” And then she was on top of me, her soft, heavy flesh pinning me from my waist up into the cradle of her hand. My loins strained and bucked, not quite reaching the underside of her firm breast. I moaned again, lost in desire. “Ooooh…you like that, huh? Does that feel nice?” she purred as she adjusted me again, rubbing herself across me in a muscular wave of pleasure. She heard me moan again and continued to shift her weight back and forth across my body, massaging me with her breast. The smooth fabric of her top slid over my skin, taut and slippery and elastic.

                “mmmmm….oooooo…” I heard her cooing to me from above. My hands, though pinned near my shoulders, began to rub and grope and squeeze at her softness. “They’re big, huh?” she asked as she pulled me more firmly into her; I felt her flesh spill around me.

                I moaned in assent and began to kiss her breast through the pliant skin of her tight white tank top. She shifted me against her breast, sliding my head across lycra, until I felt the nub of her nipple through her clothes against my cheek. I kissed her more ardently, mouthing at her top and tentatively sucking at her flesh beneath. She inched me closer to her covered nipple, using one finger to delicately tip my face towards it. I looked at it, now so close. My mind swam with conflict. How I wanted to kiss it, to take it into my mouth, to suck. But I knew her breast was heavy with milk, milk swimming with live virus that would – like my treatments, I guessed – shrink me slowly further. But my hunger for her was a driving, primal force.

                She nudged me closer to her, rubbing her nipple against my mouth, through the thick fabric. What was she doing? She, obviously, must also know what might happen to me if I took milk from her. Was she teasing me? Seemingly heedless, I kissed at her swollen nipple and squeezed it with my lips. I mouthed at her engorged nub and, as best I could, took it into me.

                Perhaps she was testing me, challenging me: could I resist her? Was I willing to shrink further just for the taste of her, the feel of her nipple in my mouth, her flesh to my face? I started to suck at her through her top, playing our dangerous game. I was still safe like this. I wouldn’t do this to her bare breast, would I? She pushed my head gently into her softness as I continued to dry-nurse through her clothes.

                “Mike?” she asked softly, “What are you doing?” She obviously expected no reply, still holding my head firmly to her breast. “You know what can happen if…if we go farther?” That was it. She was experimenting, testing me.

                But, my head was reeling; I was lost in her enveloping embrace and had begun to lose further touch with reality. I imagined what it would be like to shrink, a little, right here, held against her breast. What would be the harm? It would happen eventually, somewhere, sometime. At my next treatment. Why not enjoy it? Why delay the inevitable? Right?

                Despite my confused justifications, I nonetheless felt my stomach turn in both horror and excitement as I noticed her drop the strap of her top down her shoulder to her arm. I felt the elastic fabric peel itself away from her skin above me, higher on her chest, exposing creamy flesh.

                “Do you know what I can do to you, Mike?” she continued, “Do you? Do you know what I could do to your body?” I balked, unsure of myself. Was she bluffing? Or would she continue, would she actually cause me to shrink?

                Incredibly, I continued to suck at her, encouraging her. What was I getting myself into? I had ceased, perhaps, to care. My need was overpowering. “Mike, you’re still doing this? Don’t you care?” she whispered, “Or, can’t you help yourself? You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, could you?”

                But you don’t want to, she seemed to be telling me silently, you want to shrink more. With me. You want to be tiny. With me. You want to be a tiny little thing. In my hands, between my breasts. It was almost as if I heard her voice in my head. That’s what you want, isn’t it? I nuzzled into her, pawing, squeezing, sucking at her flesh as I moaned in assent.

                “Mike,” she asked aloud, “do you want to go upstairs?” I paused, knowing the implications. She meant to take me to her bed, where she would make it happen. Feeling me freeze, sensing my apprehension, she drew me away and looked deep into me. She fought back a faint smile. My face was tight with emotion, my body quivered, flesh crawling with fear and desire. Her eyes were brown, liquid pools, wide and alive, searching for my answer.

                “…uuuhhh…y-yeah…” I said, wilting, “…sure…”

                She kissed me full on the face, obviously trying to contain her heady sense of thrill, and – after asking my permission – lifted me in her hands and carried me gingerly across the living room, up the stairs and into her bed.

                She laid me down at the head of the bed, propped me against a pillow and sat on the mattress’ edge as she eased me out of my shirt, which had already been hanging open. Night having fallen hours ago, the room was half lit through the open door to the hallway.

                “Comfy?” she asked playfully, peering down at me in the shadowy light. I nodded. She ran a fingernail down my chest. “Good. I’m going to go change, okay?” I nodded again and watched her stand, walk across the room to her dresser, remove something from an upper drawer, and disappear into her bathroom.

                I waited, laying on her downy white comforter, and noticed a small pile of laundry on the nightstand to my left. Was that a bra atop it? It looked so big. What would its tag read? I didn’t dare move to investigate, but held fast, motionless.

                As she changed behind the closed door, my mind raced and manhood quivered as I anticipated the coming moments, hours. The time passed in silence, the minutes drifting by one by one, until I began to have second thoughts. What was I doing? I was risking everything: my relationships with Becky, my friends, my family – not to mention my health, maybe my life – by being with this girl. Was I this resigned to my eventual end, this fatalistic, to actually continue here tonight?  And, perhaps, she was feeling doubt also, behind the closed door. She had certainly been in there longer than a change of clothes required. Likely that was it. I drew a deep breath, acknowledging a gnawing disappointment, as I heard the doorknob click.

                All ideas of a changed mind on her part quickly dissolved as I, with slacken jaw, watched her slowly emerge from the bathroom. Covered only in a powder blue slip of a negligee, her long legs and womanly curves sauntered their way to slowly, purposefully, close the door to the hallway, sinking us into darkness and sealing off the world outside.

                Though my eyes adjusted quickly – the moon as nearly full and bathed the room in pearly blue – she was on the bed before I knew. Kneeling at its foot, she faced me on the bed in silence. The moonlight streamed in the window and fell perfectly across her body, allowing me to drink in the sight of her. Her long hair was piled atop her head, stray strands falling enticingly down to her graceful neck. She had done her makeup anew; long think eyelashes batted as she gazed down at me with a lovely smile through moist, opalescent lips.

                The satin fabric of her lingerie fell about her round hips and rose to cover tautly the swells of her chest. Cut low, it revealed the top half of her firm, round breasts and the deep cleavage between. In the moonlight her perfect flesh was more smooth, polished marble or alabaster than human skin.

                She watched me from above, feeling my eyes roam over her as she crossed her arms behind her back, straightening her shoulders with a slow, deep breath. Pushing her chest forward in a proud display of her firm, young body, she smiled as she looked down at her own powerful curves.

                “y-you look beautiful, Laurie,” I croaked, unable to help myself, “l-like an angel.”

                “Thank you,” she replied, her voice hushed, “I feel beautiful. I feel more beautiful every day.” She turned her shoulders gradually to one side, then the other, showing her full breasts in profile. “And I don’t want that feeling to stop. I don’t want to stop the treatments. I don’t want my body to stop changing.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, “Do you? Do you want me to stop?

                “n-no…I like it…I l-like the way you look. You’re…y-you’re gorgeous.” She remained quiet, her eyes twinkling. I was getting more and more aroused, admitting my attraction to this girl, stroking her vanity. I think I liked making her feel powerful, wanted to show her, make her realize, the effect she could hold over men. “You’re the most b-beautiful girl I’ve e-ever been with. The most beautiful girl I-I’ve ever seen.” God, it was true, I thought, as I watched her virtually glow, swelling with pride above me.

                “Mmmmhmmm…” she murmured, as she moved her hands to her long, bare, muscular thighs, gathering her breasts, soft and heavy, between her arms. She leaned in, slightly, towards me. “…go on.”

                I goggled once again at their size, shadowed rondure under smooth satin in the dim light. I stammered, nearly speechless, trying to continue. “I-I-I c-can’t k-keep my e-eyes off, y-you, Laurie. You’re j-just so…perfect. So…beautiful…” My throat was dry.

                “So, then, Mike,” she asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “will you be my boyfriend?” I was dazed, hypnotized, lost in the moment, and would have done anything she asked to be close to that body. Still I hesitated in silence. “C’mon, Mike,” she implored sweetly, a coquettish pout on her lips, “forget about Becky.” She leaned further forward, her hands now on the bed, bracing her weight, “Cuz you can have me.” I felt once more like a trapped animal; she was coming in for the kill.

                Mesmerized by her yawning cleavage, I nodded dumbly in mute acquiescence. She raised a hand, bringing a fingertip to my nose. “Is that a yes?” she mused, holding it there teasingly, “Hmm? Is that a yes?” Languidly she ran a nail down over my chest, my stomach, resting finally on the waistband of my makeshift pants to trace small circles on my lower belly.

                Her ministrations were stoking a fire in my gut; I was shivering with desire. I gurgled and answer “y-y-yeah…s-sure, Laurie.” Her thin smile widened across her pretty face, eyelashes batted over eyes that hovered about my loins. She eased her fingernail under my waistband, and tugged down on its elastic, exposing my hip on one side. “L-Laurie…” I asked weakly, “w-what are you d-doing?”

                “Oh, c’mon, Mike,” she said breathily, “I want to try…” She trailed off, looking me over curiously, intent on the bulge shifting and pulsing in my thin pants.

                “B-but you know w-what my…m-my…stuff…could do..t-to you?” I halfheartedly reasoned, “I-it could be d-dangerous…”

                “Mmmhmmm…” Her fingernail ran its way up and down my hip, tickling my arousal.

                “I-it would b-be like g-getting another treatment, r-right?” I continued.

                She paused for a second, and then answered, “Mmmmhmmm…”

                “And you j-just had a treatment today, right?” I wanted to sound concerned for her health.

                “Mmmmhmmm…” She pushed down the waistband of my pants another fraction.

                “S-so…we have to b-be…c-careful…” She remained quiet; was she really listening? “…right?”

                Her fingertip curled its way under the elastic of my pants, brushing its nail against my stiff shaft. I gasped in a reflex of pleasure. Her eyes flickered and widened, meeting mine. She was curious, experimenting, measuring my reaction. She traced the length of me with her fingernail, sending shudders up my spine.

                My eyes fluttered, half closed, as she delicately tickled and stroked up and down with her painted nail. Through heavy lids, I kept her smiling gaze. I was sinking, as if in sweet molasses, into a living fantasy, instinctively rutting, now, against her fingertip.

                “Mike,” she whispered, her mouth parted and drawing my attention to her wet, glossy lips as she toyed with my member, “You like my lipstick?” She watched my face intently, and smiled mischievously. I knew what she was implying. I closed my eyes and moaned, astounded in my own lust, almost in disbelief. I felt her long fingers tugging at my pants, drawing them down. “Do you really, really like it?” In reflex, my hands shot to my waistband, grabbing at its sides. “It’s so wet, so shiny, so slippery…”

                “n-n-no…n-no,” I argued weakly, “L-Laurie, we c-can’t..”

                “Shhh…shhh…” I heard her hushing me from above, “let me see…” Easily she overcame my meager struggle and lowered my pants below my knees. Though my eyes were clamped shut, I could feel her gaze on my swollen, twitching member, stiff and hot against my belly.

                “Ooooh…it’s so little!” she exclaimed softly, “and so hard! And look at you – you’re shaking.”

                I moaned again, tossing my head to the side, and protested “n-n-nooo..”

                I felt her approach, her voice so close to me as she asked “Why not, Mike? Don’t you like me? Don’t you want me to be taller? Don’t you want my boobs to be even bigger?” My breath came in shallow pants and gasps as she rubbed my crotch gently. “Don’t you want a blow job?” I felt her huge, warm lips on my stomach and then, in an instant, she had sucked my manhood fully into her mouth.

                I groaned, my back arching in a spasmic fit as my hands twisted into the pillow supporting me. My eyes shot open, my vision swimming in the sea of her soft hair piled above me. Suddenly I was lost in her wetness, her mouth slurping and sucking, her tongue running itself thickly under my swollen sac, over my stiff shaft. She was huge around me, enveloping me completely.

                Slowly her lips fell into a rhythm, drawing themselves over and down my erection as my hips slid and bucked to meet them. I was so small to her but never did she let me slide from her mouth. Rather, she seemed to pull me deeper, further into her with each stroke. She would consume me, I felt, if she could. And this girl had never done this before? I imagined her in the backseats of cars, late at night, pinning the boys below her, seeing what her mouth could do to them.

                Oh, how I struggled with myself, lost in the full wetness of her moist, glossy lips, her warm mouth, wanting like nothing else to come, to release myself into her throat. But what would it do? What would happen to her? She could become more sick, receiving my active virus rather than the attenuated form in the vaccine. She could fall ill, even die.

                Or she could grow, grow taller, more voluptuous, more beautiful. This, I knew, was what she hoped for. And the thought took hold of me, now, for I closed my eyes again and pictured her body, wanting nothing more than to see her become everything she dreamed.

                “oh god…” I moaned, between my whimpers and whines, “Laurie…you’re so beautiful…” My sex ached and quivered in her mouth, my orgasm building beyond my control, “and s-so…so…big. So fucking b-big..” I was close now, on the edge of release, and could hold back no longer, “…like a-a…like a goddess.”

                Unnh. I burst inside her, dumping load upon load of hot fluid into her wetness. I felt as if I could fill her mouth but - in reality, I’m sure – I produced little more than a thimble’s worth. Still she sucked me hungrily, drawing all she could from my organ as I luxuriated in the moment.

                Though the orgasm stretched for longer than any other I had known, my pulses eventually began to slow, and then stop, and I opened my eyes. I flushed in shame. What had I done?

                I watched her slowly lift her head from between my shrunken legs and tilt her face to meet mine. Her eyes were wide and gleamed wildly, immediately filling me with apprehension. Something has changed, I thought, and was shocked as I swore I saw her head nod in wordless agreement. She ran her tongue over her lips, as if to collect every last bit of me, and smiled. Her intense gaze was smothering, making my skin crawl, my body squirm.

                Seeing my reaction, she giggled, cooing “ooooh…don’t be afraid, Mike,” and eased away from me, settling to sit on her knees. The fabric around her nipples was stained, I noticed, wet in a dark patch. Was that…her milk? “Oh, I know,” she tittered, palms jumping to cover her breasts in modesty, “that happens a lot. When I think of you.” Still she watched me, my body tiny and naked and spent, prone on the bed below her. She giggled again, and then gasped, as if suddenly overcome, and closed her eyes.

                And then I heard it. Faintly, at first, but then more urgent. The ripping. The tearing. The sound of fabric being rent, of stitches popping, one after another. Her clothes. The seams of her satin negligee were being torn, splitting down it right side. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked down at her body. My mouth gaped, my eyes goggled in wonder as I realized it – she was growing. Right before my eyes.

                “Oh, Mike, watch,” she said, her voice a low purr, “I’m getting bigger.” She smiled as I watched the hem of satin crawl up her side, exposing her round hip. Her thighs swelled, lengthened. Still her nightclothes tore as her chest burgeoned beneath her hands, her figure blooming and ripening in soft swells below it fabric. Her lovely face, bathed in moonlight, was both beatific and triumphant, her smile more and more breathtaking with her ascending beauty.

                “Watch this,” she commanded as her left hand went across her chest to her right breast and, with one motion and one great breath, she arched her back, looped her right arm through one thin strap, and tore through the last of her negligee’s seam. Split, now, down one side, only hr arm kept its fabric aloft and covering her breasts.

                “Mike,” she said, her chest heaving with every breath, “look at me. Look how big I’ve gotten.”

                It was true. My virus – much amplified over what she typically received in treatments – had changed her dramatically. Though hard to judge from our current positions and my reduced height, she must have grown several inches. Probably more. And her curves, though luscious before, were now beyond my power of words or description. Breasts heavy and ripe and full swelled beneath the liquid tatters of her negligee. Shoulders, though still thin and delicate, were set squarely with confidence. Above them was her mound of lustrous hair, elegantly piled high on her head to display a neck long and graceful. Her smiling face, though, was perhaps where I noticed the greatest change.

                Gone were any last traces of baby fat or cute girlishness. She had, it seemed, in these few moments blossomed from a girl on the verge of becoming a woman into..this, this living perfection of human beauty. Was I hypnotized, dreaming? For my delirious mind could not comprehend the change, that this absolutely gorgeous woman, this heavenly being, was sixteen year-old Laurie. With eyes so big and deep, features delicately chiseled and perfect, smile radiant. I was spellbound, in awe, intent on every subtle detail and expression on her face.

                Unnerved, almost, by my rapt attention, my unblinking stare, she shifted her weight on her hips, tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, and bit her lower lip. “Mike,” she asked in a whisper, noticing anew the frailty, the weakness of my small body, “do you still want to do this?”

                I drew a rattling breath, and felt her watch my eyes drift down from her face, over her neck, down to where her arm held her torn slip over her chest. My heart fluttered. “…y-yes…” I uttered weakly, “…please.”

                I knew fully what she could do to me, now, seeing what I had done to her. But I was without any further regard for my health, my future, my life. This could be the end of me, I thought, and I didn’t care. Hypnotized, enfeebled by her beauty and delirious from the virus, I would give anything to be close to her. But I was afraid, fearful.

                She sensed this, I knew, and was ripe with compassion. With her gentle smile soothing me, she whispered “Okay, my little man, here we go…”

                Drawing the satin fabric slowly away from her chest and dropping it to the side, she watched the moonlight fall across her bare, round breasts and smiled proudly.  Agape from far below, my jaw dropped and I moaned in awe as she revealed them to me. Two huge, heavy mountains of smooth, creamy flesh dropped from her chest, topped by pert, firm nipples damp with their own milk. I squirmed, overcome by the sight, and had to shut my eyes for a moment to clear my vision. Jesus Christ, She’s huge, I thought, as my eyes refocused, absolutely huge.

                Laurie brought a hand below one swollen breast and, hefting it first to test its impressive weight, ran a finger across her nipple to collect the creamy white fluid suspended from it. Several drops on her fingertip, she cocked her head to the side and brought the milk to me. Hovering gravidly before my face, threatening to fall from her finger in a heavy drop, the thick milk assaulted my senses. I could smell its florid sweetness, taste its warm comfort, already feel its creamy flow in my throat.

                “Here, Mike,” she offered, “have a taste.” She lowered her fingertip to me, the drop touching my mouth and quickly flowing through my lips, over my tongue.

                I drew back, startled, this drop nearly a mouthful for me, feeling it pass down my throat. Its heavy flavor lingered in my mouth thickly; never before had I tasted anything so sweet and lovely, like honeyed cream. Immediately I craved more, even as I felt it settle into my stomach and twist its way into me.  Eerily I sensed its warmth spread through me, to every cell and nerve, taking hold. The virus, newly active already, changing me.

                When I looked up at her again, it was as if through new eyes. The world around me was shadowed, covered in a misty veil. Everything looked out of focus. Everything, that is, except her. She shone through the haze, glowing clearly with her own light, looking more beautiful to me than ever. I was drawn to her with unnatural yearning.

                As my eyes fell to her breasts, I gasped. They called to me, rousing an unhealthy hunger from my very core. I could sense the rolling weight of her milk within them and wanted it - now. My arms rose from my sides and sought out pleadingly for her. I whined pitifully.

                "Oooooh...there we go," she purred, "now we're ready. Come here, little guy. Come to mama." My tiny body quivered with delight as her hands reached down for me, her arms squeezing her magnificent breasts together. Picking me up, cradled in her hands, she brought me to her breast.

                Gazing down lovingly at me like a young mother to an infant, she cooed and murmured softly to me as she gently adjusted my position. "Now, Mike, be a good baby," she said playfully as she presented her firm, pink nipple to me, sliding across my cheek in one rolling motion. I could smell her milk about it, feel its undulating warmth below her skin.  "Be a good baby and make mommy proud," she teasingly whispered, seeming to enjoy playing the role of the nursing mother.

                She turned my head slightly, and pressed my face into her. Instinctively my mouth widened as her erect nipple pushed its way through my lips and against my tongue. I took a breath, one last breath, and began to suck. "Good boy," I heard her from above, "good little baby. Now, here comes mommy..."

                And then I felt it. In one great rush, from deep within her, she let down her milk. Hugging me tightly to her, she fed her milk down into my waiting throat as I mouthed hungrily at her nipple. Thick and rich, it flowed into me as I worked her breast with abandon. It eased its way into every tissue of my body, filling every fiber with new, unholy life.

                The virus, long dormant, was alive and making up for lost time. With a haunted, sinking feeling I felt my world drop out from under me. Wracked, suddenly, with a deep pain, I drew away and cried out weakly. "Shhhh...shhhh..." she hushed and comforted me from above, "let it happen. Just let it go." Her voice was a soothing balm as she continued, "Don't fight it, let yourself go."

                I had begun to shrink, like never before, actually able to feel my sinews and muscles strain against bone. Organs and viscera stretched and pulled as my body began to rearrange itself. But her voice eased my pain, filling my ears with comfort, as she drew my head back to her breast.

                Once again I began to nurse, to suckle at the breast of this young girl as my body slowly dwindled. Nuzzling into her softness, all unpleasant thoughts left me. Her warmth surrounded me, filled me. I was losing myself in her.

                "Mike," she asked, her voice low, "can you hear me?" Again her words were like sweet music to me, a melody I heard as much in my mind as in my ears. "There's something I want to tell you. Something important." Though I heard her tone grow serious, I suckled still for her milk.

                "You know, of course, how you first got exposed, right? To the virus? It was me. I did it. I snuck it into a drink last year, when you were over visiting Becky. From a sample, from my father's lab. I liked you so much..." I should be shocked, outraged, with the news. What had she done? But I was too far gone, my will consumed by the sickness, content at the young breast of this curvy beauty. I continued to nurse silently.

                "And...I took some myself. I infected myself. So you would grow to like me...not Becky. Not anyone. So we could be together. So we could always be together." She shifted me slightly in her hands, my body growing smaller every moment. "My father blames himself. He thinks he had contaminated the house. But it was me....and I'm happy I did it. Are you?"

      Her voice, to my ears, had become gradually softer and softer, as if more distant. But I heard her in my head, now, as clear as can be. Are you? Her voice asked, inside my body, Are you happy? Happy You're here with me? Happy I did this to you? That now I can hold you in my hands? Hmm?

                She read my thoughts, I knew.

                You are, aren't you? You like shrinking, you do. You want to be even smaller, with me, don't you? You want me to make you tiny. Tiny, so you can slip between my breasts. Is that it? You want to be between my breasts? My big, big breasts...

                Again she shifted me, holding me now with one hand against her. I felt my hard member, once again aroused, slide across her smooth skin. In a reflex, I began to rut into her pillowy flesh.

                Ooooh...and look. Look what you're doing. You want them to be bigger, hmm? Bigger and bigger and bigger. So you can feel them grow all around you, grow all around you as your little body's trapped between them. How will that feel, hmm? To feel my breasts grow and squeeze you, caught between them? Or...trapped in my bra? Hmm? How would that be? If I put on a bra, trapped you inside? How would you like that?

                My loins were working rhythmically, now, into her skin, out of my conscious control, urging forward another climax for her flesh. My skin, I noted with vague interest, seemed to be changing, sticking tackily to where it contacted her.

                Is that what you want, Mike? To get in my bra? To get in Laurie's big bra? Cute little Laurie. Becky’s little sister. The little sister. The little sister with the big tits. Little Laurie has such big, big boobs now, doesn't she, Mike? She's grown such big, huge breasts that you just don't know what you're going to do, do you? You want her soooo bad. Well, Mike, here…you can live your dreams, live all your little fantasies. You can get into her bra, Mike, you can live in her bra.

                I felt her hand leave me, but somehow I remained attached to her, stuck skin to skin like a fly to flypaper. What was happening? Was I being absorbed? Drawn into her? My mouth, somehow still big enough though my body had shrunk to mere inches, continued to draw milk from her.

                Here, Mike, let’s try. This one should fit.

                I opened my failing eyes and was dimly aware of a looming shadow, an enveloping darkness overcoming me, wrapping me to her. Her bra. She was putting on a bra. Slipping a cup expertly over one massive breast, then the other, pinning me snug to her. Fastening the straps in back, she drew its fabric taut against me.

                There we go. That’s better, hmm? I bought this one special, Mike, bigger. So we’d have it for today. Now, how does that feel?

                Her fingers massaged me through the satin, my body no more than two inches now, pushing my hips in their rhythm into her breast. My shaft was no longer merely rubbing against her smooth skin, but had actually seemed to enter her flesh. I felt her, warm and silky, encasing, enveloping my manhood completely as if in a soft, firm grip, ready to receive my ejaculate. My arousal peaked further, I felt myself poised, ready to come.

                Do you feel that? Hmm? I felt her thoughts once again, flowing into me through her skin, as if directly to my bloodstream. Do you feel yourself sticking to me? I’m taking you in, Mike. Keep sucking, keep nursing my milk, baby, and come closer. We can be together.

                I felt my lips tingling, disappearing, fusing with her nipple. My ability to suck had nearly faded. Rather, milk pumped itself down my throat to the beat of her heart. My loins, indeed my entire torso, were now joined completely to her breast. Her flesh undulated around me, caressing me, absorbing me, milking my dwindling organ for its fluid like the gentle workings of firm, wet hands and mouths about my shaft. I felt myself literally swelling, teetering on the edge of release.

                Come on, Mike, give it to me. Give it to me this one time and you’ll be mine. Forever.

                What was left of my jaw strained in a wide, silent cry, my sightless eyes clamping shut, as I burst forth into her, spilling what seemed like all my inner organs, my entire viscera, my very soul, into her waiting flesh, her meat. My collapsing nervous system was wracked with intolerable pleasure, pulsating, as it dissolved into her.

                Come, Mike, come, she urged me, Come into me. It’s so nice. It’s so nice in here.

                Under me I felt her breast surge, swelling with new growth, as she took my essence into her. Pressing me into her bra, her flesh crawled over me, pulling me in deeper. I was now only vaguely aware of her fingertip at my back, massaging me, pushing me through the bra’s fabric further inward. Her thoughts were all around me now, surrounding me, erasing my own conscious mind.

                Come, baby, come. Let me have it. Let me have it all. That’s right, that’s good. Let me have you. Let me have you  inside me.

                I felt our bloodstreams mingle, her heart eclipsing mine as it forced its lifeblood through me. I sunk deeper, deeper, until I was absorbed in total, little more than a tiny swelling below her skin. Soon my thoughts lost shape, direction, sense of time. I was aware only of her. I was with her, within her, part of her. Close to her beating heart, awash in her thick warmth.

                We were together, she told me, together forever and ever and ever.