The sun beamed down over the city as it baked in the heat of the hottest summer on record. Most people retreated indoors to the relative comfort of their AC, or sought refuge at a local pool. Debra had chosen the latter.

The sundeck creaked noisily as she reclined into it. The past few years had been good to her and she'd risen to become president of her own office, meaning she could afford plenty of extra booze, ice cream and other treats that she liked, resulting in a slightly chunkier figure and a much larger bottom. This bottom she now rested on her rooftop sundeck, calling over a waitress from the bar with a friendly nod. Everything had come so easily to her, she smiled, after she started keeping her son in her ass full-time.

She recalled with relish the day when she had revealed their relationship to all his friends and family, pulling Phil slowly out of her bottom at his birthday party as Cailie filmed all the guests reactions. Some of his friends had left in disgust and others giggled and began at once to spread embarassing rumours about the boy who lived in his mother's ass, but his all-female family had smiled and laughed uproariously at the actions his mother had forced him into. The knowledge that she had orchestrated the six months that he was shrunk and "punished" by being stood on and forced up his own mother's arse had broken his heart, and she took some satisfaction in allowing him to grow back to normal size only to strap his face into her copious butt as she leaned over his birthday cake (smushing it with her copious brests) and his family sung "Happy Birthday" to him and continued the party, chatting politely with each other as they laughed and cheered his mother on to fart and sit on his face. She was only too happy to oblige of course, though she did let him briefly out of her arse to eat some cake - while she and his sister wrapped their huge thighs around his head and neck and headscissored him as he despairingly ate. Watching Phil struggle to eat, to try and pretend things were still normal as his head slowly dissappeared between thighs that were much, much bigger than it was so cathartic. At one point eight pairs of strong female legs were scissoring his body at once, his mother always at his head. Phil's despair willed them on, and they eagerly squeezed him between their many thighs. She remembered exquisitely pointing out that Lashondra was here, and the fun they both had as they faced away from each other, locked arms and took turns burying Phil's face between their gargantuan hindquarters. Lashondra liked pointing out how heartbreaking this must be for Phil, but Phil's mom didn't do this because she wanted to hurt her son - on the contrary, she was simply showing him his place in life, and that was between her ass-cheeks, or under her feet as she enjoyed standing on him. His sister was allowed her own career, good friends and maybe someday her own family, but Phil would be crushed under her feet and hidden away up her ass, far away from attractive young girls. She giggled; this torture was sweet indeed!

"You're a very pretty girl," she said pleasantly to the approaching waittress, "my son would be about your age, and I think he'd be quite interested in you! Please, describe yourself so he can hear you."

The busty latin beauty looked down to Debra's enormous rump, to where she had tied her son face-first into her buttcleft 3 hours earlier. "Of course ma'am." The mexican waitress replied. "My name is Conchita. I'm 19 years old, from Chihuahua, Mexico. I've got long, dark hair, smooth, silky skin, wonderful 36d breasts and my favourite feature is my big, round booty!"

She smiled, causing Debra to giggle loudly."Is something funny, miss?"

"Oh no, it's just that I think my son has had bout all the ass he can stand for one lifetime!" Debra replied as she reached over and took a sip of her ice-cold cocktail. "Perhaps we should get you two acquainted?" She said, motioning backwards in the direction of her ass, where her thong lay splayed on her twin cheeks. Looking closer, Conchita could see the seat of the lady's thong was in fact a little boy with his arms and legs tied and pulled firmly against his captor's bottom. His head appeared to be lost somewhere, as only his neck was visible before dissappearing into the crack of the lady's ass. Though wracked with heat and sweat Phil suddenly struggled visibly. Phil was listening intently as he struggled against his mom's bindings - the knowledge that there was an attractive young girl who knew of his plight at once invigorated and frustrated him.

"Oh that's very nice of you to offer miss, but I'm afraid I could never love a person who spends all his time with his face up his own mother's backside." She smiled, as she wandered off to refresh her drinks tray."Funny," Debra laughed as she stretched out on the sundeck, chewing on the little face of her tiny son with her buttocks, "that's just what I always wanted."

Moaning as his dominating mother's titanic butt-cheeks ground up and down around his head and groin, Phil was finally handed a bit of luck as her grinding unexpectedly helped his face to pop-out of her butt-cleft at last. Feeling dehydrated, his face drenched in sweat and beet read thanks to the endless pressure from his mom's hindquarters Phil called out to the retreating figure of the waitress, but only a dry rasp escaped his lips as his face fell exhausted against his mom's right butt-cheek.

"Oh, thirsty sweetie? Have to come up for a little air? Here's a little something for you Phillie, drink it all up now." Debra dribbled a few drops of her cocktail from her curly straw onto her son's face, which he quickly lapped up, licking her ass-cheek greedily and without shame to extract all the water he could from the present.

"Mom," he rasped, breathless and baking in the humid afternoon "mom, please ..." Debra reached backwards to touch her little, struggling son, who had spent the last forty minutes working his head out of the sweaty, warm clamp of her ass, and pressed forward, gently engulfing his face within her butt-crack with a silent smile.

"Hush now, sweetie. Thongs don't talk." She said, pressing his tiny head into the smelliest part of her buttcrack. She had to admit, if this weather kept up everyday Philip was going to leave a wonderful, permanent tanline on her bottom. The idea of a piece of body-art celebrating her dominance over her son appealed to Debra's sensibilities - perhaps she would get a tattoo; she had been considering getting "Home Sweet Home" drawn at the top of her buttcrack, but she wasn't sure how often her son would see it and she wasn't sold on the idea of getting something tattooed between her cheeks yet. Apart from Phil, she giggled to herself.

She could easily afford to get it removed anyway, she thought to herself. She could easily afford anything now. With her amazing success at work she'd remodeled their house, bought a new car, a new kitchen, bathroom bedroom suites, a beautiful plasma television and now every pair of her panties had a space for Phil to be strapped into in the back. She had twelve pairs of leather underwear to attach her ass to his fully-grown face whenever she felt in the mood. She could afford to have her friends, her sisters, all her family over whenever she wanted, and what was best was she could force her son to stay in her ass or her shoes throughout the entire thing!

She had no need for companionship, for her little son was always with her, whether trapped underfoot in her shoes or tethered to her generous, rounded behind as he was now. And she felt much better knowing she was forcing him to live with his mother standing on him and putting him up her own bum everyday. If it had been any other person then it just wouldn't have been the same. It had to be her son up her bum. That was the best place for him. That was his destiny. She luxiarated at the feeling of his tiny head poking up her buttcrack. He must feel so demoralized, so defeated. She smiled and gently began bouncing those big globes of rear-meat on the deck, clapping them around Phil's tiny head. Debra smirked, knowing this was the life she had thrust him face-first into. Cailie meanwhile had been given the chance to go off to college and, making the most of her oppurtunity, had graduated with a first class degree and together with the many good friends and connections she had made had allowed her to become a successful and hugely popular Hollywood actress. Wedding bells were on the horizon with her wonderful director boyfriend, and though she was now a wealthy, popular celebrity and complete human being she occasionally found time to come back home and give her little brother a break from life between his mother's butt-cheeks. Rumour had it however that she was even now pitching a script to the major studios involving a mother who turns her son's life around by shrinking him and enforcing some ... strict living conditions. 

Phil, however, had spent the past 6 years of his life wedged unwillingly up his own mother's ass-crack. He had been instructed to treat it as his goddess and girlfriend. He was to be intimate, servile and reverent. She had made him spend his life devoting himself to her crack and glorious cheeks, and the space between her buttocks became his natural home. After a few months of walking around with Philip's face strapped into the crack of her ass following his wonderful birthday Debra shrunk Phil down once again, popped him into her bottom and never looked back. Day after day had gone by where he would wake up to the welcoming clamp of his mother's butt-cheeks on his head, or strapped onto her sole with her toes jostling for position on his battered face, either way with his face buried in her skin and his member embarassingly hard. Every day of his life she had dominated him utterly, using him as an insole for her shoes and as panties to cover her ass. Phil had to learn about foot massages very early, and had to become an expert at washing his mom's sole with his tongue every night because she wanted the last thing in his mouth every day to be either her footjam or buttflesh. He learned to tell whether his mom was having a good day at work by whether she put his face in her shoe under her soft, smelly toes or under her hard, heavy heel. If he was in her panties his job was to absorb her farts so they didn't stink or alert any of her clients to her tension, although of course he had come to realize she simply loved doing this to him too. And certainly, whenever his mom was really frustrated at work she'd bounce on him while he was dropped onto her leather chair, often jumping into the air and tensing her glutes as hard as she could or grabbing the arms of the chair and slamming her rump down as hard as she could on his little body for minutes at a time. Phil had lost count of the amount of times her butt and feet had beaten him over the years and made him black out. Three years ago she enacted a new rule that said Phil could only eat the food that she dropped under her feet or into her buttcrack. One year ago she began occasionally feeding Phil on what escaped from her ass. His mom apparently sent Cailie photos of him eating his "Birthday Cake" this year. Oh, that reminded her ...

*

Phil's head was swimming has he came to - he tried to remember why he'd blacked out but it happened so often it was almost pointless these days. It was almost always to do with his mom's buttocks. Sometimes he was sure when she wedged his head between her cheeks she forgot they were the size of houses to him! He thought it was the heat, but he couldn't be sure. He had been allowed to grow back to his regular size at the least and - *clink!* - what was that? Why where his handcuffs on? He looked behind him and his head hit something ceramic. He - he was handcuffed to the toilet-bowl again. His face paled as he turned around and there was his mom, facing away but looking over her shoulder with a grin like the Cheshire Cat.

"Open wide, Phil!" As she began to sit back and spread her cheeks, looking back to make sure she was "on-target" ...

Oh no, oh no no no no ...

*

"Here sweetie! Dinner time!" She lifted one bulbous cheek off the glittering porcelain of the toilet bowl and spread it, creating an intimate little gap just in front of her anus for her son's head to go. Shuffling forward, Phil pressed his lips against his mom's asshole as she let her awesome hips press down over his face. Gently taking her son's hands she placed them on the floor and rested her soft, slightly wrinkled soles on them. They were a perfect fit, her toes interwining with her sons hands cutely. She relaxed and her anus began to bulge. After a few seconds of laying back on the toilet she noticed her son's penis start to lengthen. She giggled as she watched his member rise up like a towering spire as she fed him from her asshole. "My, you're really enjoying this these days, aren't you Phil sweetie?" She teased, squeezing his hands with her feet. There was only the sound of his anxious swallowing.

A few minutes later and she was all done. Phil was still cleaning her asshole but she preferred the sensation of his fully-grown face in her ass right now so she didn't shrink him back, and simply walked back to her rooftop pool, naked but for the strong leather strap burying her son's face in her rotund rump. Phil was forced to shuffle along on his hands and knees behind her, trapped in a particularly awkward position with his puckered lips against his mom's anal ring. Suddenly his face bumped even more into his mom's butt as she stopped.

"Oh wait sweetie. I've got a little reward for you." She said, bending down to reach her feet and almost breaking her son's neck by pushing her large hips back into him. "I know you like how my big, smelly feet feel, and I love feeling you under them, so I thought this'd be a nice treat for both of us to remind us that my place is to stand on you and sit on your face." She smiled, as she finished working. In the end, she had attached Phil's open hands to the soft, heavy bottoms of her feet with the same kind of leather strap that had kept his face in her ass for years now. The mother's soles now stood on top of her son's palms, their fingers and toes entertwined as if in a comforting embrace between two lovers, but of course Phil's mom controlled his life and so the lowest part of her body was bound on top of a precious part of his. She took a minute to wiggle her toes between his fingers and ensure he couldn't forget that his mom was walking on his hands as a treat. Despite himself Phil liked this. It was like holding hands with a real girl. And his mom's feet were so heavy and soft, it was right that she would hold his hands with her soles. By now he wouldn't know what to do with her hands, but her feet, those he carefully held like the tender embrace of a lover. If he tried really hard, he could almost pretend he was on a walk with his girlfriend. But no, he was face-first up his mother's ass. And then she began walking again. His mom wasn't going lightly, and with every extravagant twist of her hips as she stepped her heels drilled into his palms as she sauntered slowly, deliciously slowly towards the awaiting sundeck where she could see someone was now waiting ...