I couldn’t describe what being stuck in a purse is like, and I never thought I would have to until now. I don’t even know whose purse I’m in, and the total darkness doesn’t help. I feel a container of lipstick slam against my body periodically, maybe once every ten seconds. The lipstick and the scent are my only two clues telling me that I’m in a purse. It smells like leathery lilies down here. What the heck is going on here? Who I can only imagine is my carrier has clacking heels that send me and my inanimate companions jostling with each step. I can hear her breathing quicken as the clacks of her heels accelerate. The echoes tell me that we’re in empty hallway. But where exactly are we? How am I only three inches tall?
On second thought, maybe it’s better not to know the answer to this question. People put things in purses for one reason; because they expect to use them later. And if I’m in this purse for a reason like that…
A hand, four times the size of my body, shoots into my purse prison. It reaches around before grabbing me for just long enough to stroke my entire body with an enormous thumb. As soon as my body is launched into the air by the thumb, the hand leaves me and reaches for a set of keys. They jangle past me. Silence.
A door creaks open. My captor lets out an earth-shaking (or at least, purse-shaking) sigh, placing me on what I imagine is a table. The purse starts to slump on itself, its leathery walls pushing on my naked body. I gulp. I have a feeling I know what comes next.
The door locks from a distance, and the heels clack on their way to me–softer this time, so maybe on carpet. For the first time in what feels like hours, I’m able to see light as my captor opens the purse to the air.
“Hey there, little man!” a whisper that sounds like thunder hits my ears as a hand reaches for my body. I try to escape to a corner of the purse, but it’s no use. The hand is too quick, and the stray receipts, cash, and tissues are too insurmountable of a labyrinth. Before I know it, I’m trapped in the giant hand that had grazed me no more than a minute before. I yelp as I’m accelerated into the open air, my nakedness on full display, save my fleshy manual prison.
“Was the trip okay, baby?” the same whisper asks. But now I see her face. I see her black hair, draped from either side of her head. Her dark brown eyes are able to easily take in all of me as I struggle inside her closed fist, only my neck and head popping out. All I can hear are her breaths and the gentle ticking of an enormous, metal watch around her wrist. My heart must be beating three times for every tick of her wristwatch. She holds me up to her face, not that I can’t already see her clearly. In fact, she’s the only thing I can see. But I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Is it really her?
“Dr… Dr. Stevens?” I manage to choke out.
She erupts into a universe-shattering laugh. “You can call me Lily now. I’d hardly say that we have a professor-student relationship anymore. Or at least we won’t from here on out.”
“What did you do to me?” I ask, starting to shiver from the cold air.
She tiptoes to her desk chair before plopping down, moving me to her chest level.
“Nothing you didn’t want me to do.” She kicks her feet up on her desk without taking her eyes off me. I do everything in my power to reciprocate her gaze. But she only laughs. “You can look if you want. I’m seeing all of you, so it’s only fair.” With unbelievable shame, I fixed my gaze on her enormous breasts. Though she’s fully clothed, a gray sweater depriving me from a clear view of her undoubtedly mountainous cleavage, the distance her tits move just from breathing is formidable. I’m enraptured in a hypnotic trance as they slip higher and then lower, her bra comfortably containing her double-D’s. Much to my dismay, my crotch rouses, bringing my cock to attention. She chuckles again, noticing my tiny dick against her fingers.
“Awww, now you’re just being cute, aren’t you?”
Still, I can’t take my gaze off her breasts. How did this happen?
“So, you’re probably wondering how this happened, huh?” she asks.
I nod slowly, tearing my eyes from her chest. Dr. Stevens has been my biology professor for most of the semester, and while I always thought she was unbelievably sexy, I never thought much more of it. Not only is she married with children, but very rarely do student-teacher fantasies actually come true. And for good reason I suppose.
But something is telling me that I’m in for something that’s a far cry from a fantasy. In all the scenarios I ran in my head, being the size of her pinky was not present in a single one. I thought about mounting her on her desk, grabbing her huge ass as I rammed into her. I could even imagine her calling my name. But now, just one of her butt cheeks could crush me one hundred times over.
I try to shake the thought out of my head, but her grin tells me that she already knows what’s on my mind.
“On second thought, maybe the less you know the better, right? More left to your imagination? Would you like that?” She pulls her hair out of her ponytail and licks her lips. I murmur something unintelligible.
“I’ll take that as a yes!” She opens up her shirt with her free hand, revealing her mammoth breasts. Like a pinch of pixie dust, she drops me into her cleavage, sealing the door to my fleshy prison behind me. She gets up on her feet and shakes her body just enough to slot my body between her left breast and her bra cup. I have a feeling it’ll be a long night.
After a couple minutes spent bouncing, sliding, and stepping, I know that we’ve left her office and are headed for her car. I keep my back to her boob, letting it smash my entire body against the cup of her bra. It’s simultaneously the most and least comfortable predicament of my life. While my back and arms have become immediately sore from trying to stabilize my body, my waist down is screaming for more, much to my embarrassment. A few drops of cum leak from the tip of my cock, which I hurriedly rub against her bra in hopes she won’t notice. To me, each cup is roughly the size of a house: so hiding a microliter of milk in a three-story house would certainly go undetected, right? The car door opens, and my body is jolted temporarily into free fall as Dr. Stevens–I mean, Lily–drops into the front seat. While her ass cushions our descent, I’m dislodged from my perfumed prison and sail dangerously close to her cleavage. With nothing but my left leg holding me to her bra, I look down at the abyss. Her toned stomach leads to a pair of dark blue jeans held in place by a black belt, buckled tightly. The belt alone is the size of the Empire State building compared to me. I shudder at the thought of her whipping me with that belt, which would feel like dropping a bookshelf on a fly.
Lily’s fingers slip down to catch me, placing me back near her nipple before gently rubbing her pointer finger across my body. Her diamond wedding ring shines, a sole beacon in the progressively darkening prison as the sun sets.
“Don’t make me catch you again. You don’t know when my generosity will stop.”
I let out a small chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, but Lily doesn’t reciprocate it. She must actually be serious, or is at least trying to make me think she is.
“What do you say when I give you an order?” she whispers, angling her head towards her cleavage.
I blink, taken aback. The playful Dr. Stevens is turning into something else entirely.
“Yes,” I respond meekly.
“Yes what, little man?”
Bewildered that she was not only able to hear me, but to demand for more, I sit in silence with my mouth agape.
She clears her throat.
Silence.
“Yes, ma’am,” I plead.
“Good boy!” she praises me while placing her key in the ignition. The engine turns, and my whole world is shifted as she turns to look out the back windshield. Before I can protest, the car is pulled out of the parking spot, and Lily turns her body back, facing forward. Her nipple hardens, pinning me to the cup of her bra. I can feel her flesh trying to make a skewer out of me. I try to push back gently to remove myself from under the nipple’s grasp, but it’s no use. There’s too much heavy flesh on either side of me: I’m trapped for the time being.
___
Regular-sized people don’t focus much on the bumps on the road as they ride down the highway or across speed bumps. Regular-sized people (I’d figured roughly half of them) do focus on enormous boobs. During my drive home with Lily, I’m forced to confront both things in a way I never thought I would. The soft music in the car is imperceptible to me over the constant bouncing of my prison around me. I’m allowed a brief moment of weightlessness as my body and her breast fly into the air, followed by the deafening collapse of the world as we return. Her pendulous breasts have their own momentum, tossing me in every direction imaginable, only a rock-hard nipple keeping me in place. The constant thrashing leads to more than a little rubbing; I’m constantly holding back a humiliating orgasm.
“You know,” she says, “if you’re uncomfortable down there, you can always try to climb up. I won’t mind.” My entire world shakes as she speaks, the bass of her voice rocking me like a thousand subwoofers. She’s right though–I’m underneath the heaviest point of her breast while also being nearly impaled by a giant nipple. Each pothole and each speed bump calls into question how much more abuse my body can take. The only way out might be up.
Lily’s face is blocked by her sweater, but I imagine her eyes are still on the road. Weirdly, it makes the whole endeavor easier. Yes, she can probably feel me struggling, but if she’s not looking, at least it feels like there’s a little less pressure.
I grab a mound of flesh and try to pull myself up, but it’s no use. Her nipple is exerting too much force on my small body for my pulling to make a difference; I need to get away from the nipple first. With all my might, I pry my body away from her nipple. The gap between her breast and her bra last only long enough for me to move up an eight of an inch. Now, I’m stuck straddling her nipple.
“Better than nothing,” I groan to myself.
The ground beneath me hardens even more than before as my balls rub against her nipple. It makes the next step much easier; her hard nipple is pushing her bra far enough a way that I might just be able to move upwards now.
I grab another mound of flesh with two hands and attempt to pull myself up. Much to my surprise, it actually works. I try to push my feet against her bra, but there’s not enough traction from the soft fabric. I quickly knead my toes into her boob to gain some much-needed stability.
Climbing her breast like an insect, I keep grabbing flesh, pulling myself, and stabilizing myself until I’m about one quarter of the way up her boob. Maybe it’s possible after all. Working up further, my muscles are unimaginably sore, and my dick keeps rubbing against her tit. At this rate, staving off the orgasm is nearly an impossibility. But I have to keep going; I can’t let my small body return to the bottom, unless I want to get crushed again.
At about halfway up, the smell of boob sweat and perfume starts to smell more like victory. I can see over the bra cup if I turn around, and the pressure of Lily’s mammoth mammary against me starts to lessen. I might just be able to do it.
Out of nowhere, Lily clears her throat and coughs, swaying her chest in the process. I try to keep my grip, but it’s no use. I fall like an airplane shot out of the sky, down to the bottom of my prison. She cups her boob in her hand and giggles.
“Uh-oh, did I thwart your plan, mister?” She jeers while kneading her breast, throwing me against her boob. When I turn around, I can see the outline of her hand stroking her chest, occasionally rubbing up against her nipple (to which my whole body is stuck). My boner swells to the point that I think it might explode, but I do everything I can to hold it in.
“It’s okay baby, you can try again if you want,” she says, speaking to me like I’m a child. She flips her boob with her hand so that it again rubs me against her flesh. I can’t hold it back anymore.
I blow my load all over her tit, which feels like a drop of oil in the ocean to me. The ecstasy is otherworldly. Never had I had an orgasm half as good as the one Lily’s playful kneading accidentally caused. The car comes to a stop.
“Hmmm, is that what I think it is?” she asks, reaching down into her shirt. “You’re gonna have to clean that up, sweetie. That’s no way to treat your host.” I try to protest, but it’s too late. She picks up my body and uses it as a sponge to soak up my own cum. I cry and groan, but she ignores me.
“Well don’t come crying to me, silly! You know what they say about doing the crime and doing the time. Now, what to do with you?” She pulls me out of her bra, holding me to her face. I’m a horrendous mix of giantess sweat and my own cum. I can’t even make myself look at her. There’s again silence, except for the ticking of her watch, which I can hear once again now that I’m in the open air. “Oh you poor baby! I’m not mad at you. I just can’t have a mess down there, you know? Here, I can make it all better.”
She licks her lips and opens her mouth. Before I know it, my entire body is being catapulted into her open maw. The last thing I see is her lap, covered by dark blue jeans, before my world is covered in darkness, saliva, and an expectant tongue.