The life of a bra has its good points and its bad points.
On the one hand, much of a bra's life is spent laying in a drawer, or a hamper, or a washing machine. And even when a bra is being worn, it's hidden under a shirt, blouse, or sweater, cut off from the larger world. It's pretty dull.
Then again, when being worn, a bra has constant, tight contact with breasts, so it pretty much evens out.
For Chris, things were more than even, as he had no intention of ending up in a washing machine. He'd just sit here and enjoy Angie's small-yet-firm breasts (and to tell the truth, when you're bra-sized, even small breasts are plenty big.) Eventually, she and Kymberlie would go back to their cabin, and he'd go from there.
He could hear the show through Angie's t-shirt--a little comedy, a song-and-dance troupe, pretty much standard fare for a lounge act. He wasn't saddened at all when things came to an end, and he was back supporting two bouncing mammaries as Angie walked through the halls of the Ruler of the Waves.
After a few moments, they entered the discotheque again, and this time, instead of sitting at a table, the newlyweds decided to dance. And they could dance. Chris had never had an appreciation for how necessary a bra could be before, but after feeling Angie's breasts straining against him--not a bad thing, mind you--he knew that he'd never look at a bra the same way again.
Finally, after several hours, the two women wandered back to their cabin. Chris was happy to get light and fresh air again as Angie removed her t-shirt. He was eye-level with Kymberlie's mammoth tits, a nice view that became even nicer as the two embraced and locked lips. "ARE YOU TOO TIRED FOR A LITTLE FUN?" asked Kym. "UM...YEAH, I AM," replied Angie, much to Chris' disappointment. "ME TOO," said Kym. With that, Angie removed her bra, and tossed it onto the desk. Chris watched enviously as the two women climbed, naked, into the small cruise ship bed, and snuggled together, in exhausted amourousness. As the girls drifted off to sleep, Chris decided to do the same. Locked in as a bra, he found he was perfectly comfortable despite being tied up and twisted. With dreams of titanic lust, he slid into unconsciousness.
* * *
Chris heard a ringing, and tried to rise to answer it, only to find he couldn't move. He panicked for a minute, until a beautiful, naked woman rose over him, picked up a phone, and hung it back up.
"TIME TO WAKE UP, SWEETIE," she said, gently rocking her wife's shoulder. "WE WANT TO HEAD OUT INTO NASSAU RIGHT AWAY."
"MMM...DON' WANNA."
"TELL YOU WHAT--I'LL GO BRUSH MY TEETH, THEN YOU CAN BRUSH YOURS, AND THEN...."
"WELL...THAT'D WAKE ME UP....OKAY."
Chris' heart leapt. A little more lesbian action was fine with him. Now, to decide where to go. He searched his memory. He could "passively merge with an aninmate object." He wondered....
"Form Change. Now."
"CHOOSE YOUR FORM."
"I'd like to passively merge with...." he paused. He was going to say "Kymberlie," but at the last second, inspiration struck. "Uh, with Angie's clitoris."
"MERGER ACCEPTED. TRANSFERING CONSCIOUSNESS TO NEW OBJECT IN 3...2...1...."
Chris was suddenly in darkness, with just a tiny bit of light sneaking in above him. He tried to move, but as before, he was stuck in place. There was something different going on, though. He could feel blood pumping through him, nerve cells firing. He was alive, whatever he was.
The world began to move as the thing he was stuck to got up. The world rose, and dipped, and suddenly gallons of hot liquid streamed forth a few feet below him. The stink of urine reached him. Maybe he should have waited a moment, he mused, as the sky parted long enough to see a sheet of white fabric moving around to blot the liquid. Then, the world was moving upward again. He could feel blood flowing through him even more, and a new, strange, unfamiliar feeling started to fill him. He knew that if he had a cock, it would be rock hard, but somehow, this was different. It was so...feminine.
He was conscious now of something outside his cuccoon. Something rubbing against the skin canyon above him--a leg, perhaps. Strangely, he could start to sense what was going on in the outside world--the nerves of Angie telling his nerves that she was kissing her wife hard, trying with each motion of her lips to suck love from her partner's soul. Now, hands were searching, and Kymberlie was moving into position to quickly satisfy her lover.
It felt like sweat pouring off his body, but Chris knew that the liquid that surrounded him was more holy than mere sweat. Without warning, curtains were parted, and the enormous, beautiful visage of Kymberlie was beaming down at him. She stuck out her tongue, and touched it to him.
Lightning coursed through his veins. It was like a full body blow job, but altogether different. Kym sucked at him, licked him, let her teeth graze him. He wanted to scream out in pleasure, but Angie was doing it for him. With each flick of her tongue, Kym brought joy to her wife and the unseen, unknown consciousness in her vagina. Finally, when Chris felt he could bear it no more, he felt the release of a new and altogether different type of orgasm. And then he felt it again. At long last, the world settled down, as Kym finished with a soft kiss to her lover's lower lips.
Chris lay back, or would've, had he been able to move, and mentally sighed. Now that was better than anything he'd ever experienced. Slowly, the walls closed, and after a while, he felt a small sense of arousal, as Angie returned the favor to Kym. Finally, the loving ended, as Angie got up and took a shower.
* * *
After a while, Chris began to get bored with resting in Angie's vagina.
Oh, it was fine and all, but they were just walking around, and being a clit is just not exciting when your owner is getting dressed, or heading down to breakfast.
"How long until I can transform into someting new?"
"EIGHTEEN MINUTES, THREE-POINT-TWO SECONDS."
"Okay." He mulled over what to do next. Perhaps he'd merge consciousnesses with Kym like he was origninally planning to. Even if they were just sightseeing, he'd get to see the sights, rather than hear about them through a few layers of fabric. He wasn't sure.
Then, inspiration struck. He wanted to see things, but he wasn't sure he wanted to get inside one of the women's heads--at least, not yet. But if he transformed into Kym's shirt, he'd be able to see everything while still feeling Kym within him. Not a bad idea--at least for a while. "Time left until I can transform?"
"ONE MINUTE, ONE-POINT-ONE THREE SECONDS."
Chris counted to seventy-Mississippi, then said (or would have, if clits had lips) "Form Change. Now."
"CHOOSE YOUR FORM."
"I want to merge with Kym's shirt."
"MERGER ACCEPTED. TRANSFERRING CONSCIOUSNESS TO NEW OBJECT IN 3...2...1...."
He could feel himself stretched around two ample breasts, then sliding down along a soft, sweet tummy. He looked up at Kym's face, and smiled inwardly. He was glad she liked her t-shirts tight. It makes a t-shirt happy.
Then, just as he was starting to enjoy himself, disaster struck. Just as she was about to take a bite of huevos rancheros, Kym lost control of her fork, sending salsa, egg, and refried beans plummeting toward Chris.
He saw them fall as if in slow motion. They struck right on her starboard breast, and fell to the table.
"OH, CRAP," said Kym. "THAT'S GONNA STAIN."
"IT'S OKAY, WE'LL STOP BY THE CABIN AND GET YOU A NEW SHIRT," reassured Angie.
"Fuck me," thought Chris. Two minutes as a shirt, and already he was going to be discarded to the hamper. This was no fun at all.
* * *
It was hard enough being dropped unceremoniously on the floor of the room, as Kym and Angie hurried to leave the ship, but things were getting tremendously boring. All Chris could do was sit and sulk, and occasionally check back to see how long it would be until he could change form again.
At least he knew what he was going to do. He would change into a quarter-inch tall version of himself--so small that he would never be noticed. Then, he would go hide himself until the girls got back. And then he would enter one of them, and see what it was like to be a lesbian in love. (From what he'd seen so far, he thought it probably was pretty fun.) Finally, he was able to make his change. He found himself standing atop the shirt he had until recently been a part of--standing amid the stain. He wasn't sorry, though; his stomach propelled him into the heart of it, where he was able to find enough bits of bean and egg to quiet the rumble in his newly reconstituted stomach. He jumped off the shirt into the middle of the towel, when suddenly, an enormous noise rang out. The door was opening! The girls were back!
He was wrong, though. It was the cabin stewardess, here to put the room to rights. She was a young Latina, with dark eyes and even darker hair. From Chris' vantage point, she was nothing short of a Goddess.
He scurried backward as her eyes landed on the towel and shirt. She clucked, and muttered something in Spanish that had to refer to how messy Americans were. Thinking nothing of the unnoticed man, she reached down, slung the towel over her arm, and moved the shirt into the corner of the room.
Chris was thrown onto the woman's shoulder. It was all he could do to cling for his life as she made up the bed into a couch, and left some new ice. He kept looking for an escape route, but there was none. As they left the room, he memorized the cabin number--he would have to find his way back here.
They journeyed on to the next room, where Chris finally lost his grip. He tumbled as the stewardess bent over the desk, and fell into the slightly-open desk drawer. As he impacted a pile of fabric, he gasped for breath. Finally, he righted himself, just as the woman left for her next room.
Chris thought about escape, but to where? He was better off staying right where he was, and waiting until he could transform into something. Then, he could merge with the door to cabin 7822, and wait until the girls came back. Seemed like a good idea.
A few minutes later, he started hearing some noise, and suddenly, an enormous hand reached in to a suddenly open drawer, grabbing the fabric around him and lifting it into the air. He saw the mirror-polished wedding ring on the left hand of the woman who held him, and saw just enough of her to tell she was incredibly hot--and currently, incredibly naked--when the fabric dropped to the floor and came up fast on her pussy.
Chris was pressed firmly between the rubbery pink fabric of bikini bottoms and the clean, well-trimmed bush of a hot young bride.
A deep, distinctly male voice said, "JESSIE, YOU LOOK GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT."
"A.J., WE DID IT ALREADY THIS MORNING...HOW 'BOUT WE WAIT UNTIL JUST BEFORE DINNER?"
"OKAY...THAT A PROMISE?"
"MMM...WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
Chris wanted to retch--a young couple in love. Just what he didn't need. He could feel his cock hardening as Jessie thought about what was going to happen "just before dinner."
Then, suddenly, they were moving. Chris slid down the fabric to a spot directly between Jessie's legs. They were probably headed to the pool. Chris prayed they were just going to sunbathe--he wouldn't survive underwater if he was here.
Thankfully, it wasn't too long until Jessie was laying prone, and Chris could smell the scent of coconut--tanning oil, he was sure. As Jessie stretched out, Chris formulated a plan, just in case she decided to go swimming after all.
Carefully, so as not to wake her, he pushed his way into the great doors of her vagina. The going was not easy, but he was able to push inside into a chamber where there was some air. He figured he would hide up along the cervix. If she did swim, he would have a pocket of enough air to sustain him. Besides, it was kind of fun, hanging out in the pussy of an attractive woman.
The sultry scents and heavy air had an effect on Chris. He laid down, and fell asleep.
When he awoke, it was because there was an earthquake, combined with a flood.
"Fuck!" he shouted, as he struggled to keep his head up. "It must be just before dinner.
No sooner did he say that when he saw the head of an enormous penis entering his hidey-hole. "Oh, fuck me. How long until I can change form?"
"THIRTY-EIGHT SECONDS."
As the penis began to move in time, Chris tried quickly to think of a plan. Then, suddenly, it hit him. "Time?"
"TWO SECONDS."
"One...Zero...Form Change. Now."
"CHOOSE YOUR FORM--"
"Merge my consciousness with the owner of that cock!"
"TRANSFER ACCEPTED....."
Suddenly, he was making love to a gorgeous woman. He was quite aware that he had no control over the body he was in; but he could feel everything the man could, and when he came, Chris came as well. Much better than being swept up in come, he thought.
* * *
A.J. was something of a putz. Jamie deserved much better.
So thought Chris after walking a mile in his shoes. Jamie was amazingly attractive. She looked good. She felt good. She even smelled good.
Let's just say A.J. was a little out of his league.
Chris was counting down the moments until he could crawl out of A.J.'s skin. There was no way he wanted to stay in the body of some random guy. So as they moved out into the hallway to head to dinner, Chris was looking for somewhere else for his consciousness to alight.
He finally saw it with a woman in the casino. She was wearing a jade pendant that dove deliciously into her ample cleavage. Without a second thought, he spoke the words that made him a part of the pendant. There was a lot of ground to cover on this ship. He looked forward to what would come next.
Giantess World
