------ Chapter 9 ------

            Dinner was a painful event for me. My mother and sister both ate like normal people, while I pitifully sat in my mother’s lap and watched. By this point I was convinced I was starving to death, and the gaping pain in my stomach affirmed that suspicion. Watching others eat while you waste away is a unique sort of torture. To add further insult to injury, the women were eating tacos, which just so happened to be one of my favorite meals.

            The conversation fluttered about as my mother and Alison discussed the events of the day. Despite my gnawing appetite, I had to admit that overall it was an interesting -if somewhat quirky- experience. The women talked as if I wasn’t even there, and I assumed that as a man I wasn’t important enough for dinner conversation, and therefore didn’t bother making myself heard. Honestly, I didn’t really care, and took the time to take in the scene.

            My mother had placed me in her lap as she talked and ate. From between her gargantuan thighs, I surveyed my surroundings. Her thick legs were on either side of me. The hot pink fabric of her sundress stretched across her legs, making a sort of canyon-like expanse. It was almost like lying in a big, self heating hammock.

            Behind me, I leaned back against the colossal expanse of her taut stomach, which growled every so often as she ate. It was interesting listening to her belly periodically give off loud groans as she digested her food, yet it did nothing to dissuade my own hunger.

            Glancing upwards, I caught sight of her expansive bosom, both breasts jutting out a vast distance from her chest, draped in the pink fabric of her sundress. The huge mounds of flesh rose and fell slightly, and I began to feel more and more famished just by looking at them. Between her boobs, I could see her slim neck and chin, working feverishly as she either chewed or made comments to my sister. Her huge pink lips wrapped powerfully around a taco shell as she stuffed her face.

            Unbeknownst to my feasting mother, a small chunk of lettuce fell from her taco and landed on her thigh next to me. Elation filled my heart at this sudden change of luck.

            My moment had come, and just when had I least expected it!

            Tenderly, I plucked the green leaf off of her, and when I was sure that she was preoccupied, I started wolfing it down with reckless abandon.

            I chewed once, twice… something wasn’t right. This lettuce tasted horrible, like I was eating grass or something. Still, ever determined, I gave it a third chew, slow and tentative.

            Nope. My stomach, despite screaming at me earlier that it was starving, churned repugnantly at my attempts to eat the discarded lettuce. I felt a tightening sensation in my stomach mounting quickly, and I knew I had to immediately get rid of what was in my mouth.

            I spat the lettuce out into my hands, suddenly disgusted at the sight of it. With a quick toss, I heaved the half-chewed lettuce overboard, where it fell to the floor.

            It was so gross! I wiped my tongue on my hand, trying desperately to get the wretched aftertaste off. As I did this, realization set in. It was possible there was a reason I wasn’t allowed to eat regular food; as a man, I probably couldn’t! That’s why in this reality men were always being breastfed. It was all they could handle.

            I sighed, my hopes dashed, and I glumly crossed my arms over my chest. I guess I’d have to wait until the women were finished.

            ……

            Large womanly fingers splayed across my chest like a heavy blanket, then powerfully scooped around my body and lifted me skyward. The titanic mass of woman that was my mother had finally finished eating, so she could now see to my needs. Expertly, she flipped me over so that I was facing her, then held me up in front of her face, her thumbs wrapped around my chest, her long red fingernails playing across my back.

            Her eyes darted to the side, as she told Alison to clean up the dishes. She grinned as powerful legs propelled her upwards as she stood and began walking into the nearby living room, and she switched my position, cradling me in her arms like a small child. She walked, thundering footsteps carrying her across the floor, and the locks of her long blonde hair flowed about.

            Once in the living room, she eased herself down onto the couch- a long, brown piece of furniture with big soft cushions- and then twisted her body sideways and placed her feminine legs lengthwise across the sofa. As she was sitting upright, I noticed one pink strap of her sundress suddenly fall close to my face, and my mother’s free hand snaked around her body, adjusting her bra. Once she was comfortable, she leaned back, her upper body propped against the large brown pillows.

            Her hand moved away from her bosom, revealing one massive breast, suspended pendulously above me. One womanly finger covered the tip of her nipple, slowing playing across the skin of her areola. The woman rubbed her tit tenderly, tracing little circles and tugging slightly, drawing her growing nipple out. It hardened quickly, signifying she was ready.

            The free hand snaked behind my head, cupping it like a tennis ball. Her finger and thumb pinched the sides of my jaw, forcing my mouth open. In one fluid motion, she lifted my head and lowered the heavy mass of her bust. The pert nipple filled my mouth instantly, and within seconds warm fluid began to flow. I didn’t care. By this point I was so hungry that it didn’t matter where I was getting my meal from.

            As she basically force fed me, the woman sighed periodically; deep, contented sighs that I heard coming more from inside her chest than from her actual lips. Her noises, while obviously feminine, had a throaty bass like characteristic to them simply because of her size- almost like she was growling. I was surprised that even something as harmless as a satisfied sigh felt extremely powerful coming from a woman. I began to slowly ponder about this new society again. I was becoming increasingly aware of just how dependent I was on the women around me, particularly my family. Without my sister I would have fallen victim to the sexual advances of a woman who was far larger than me, and without my mother I legitimately would have a difficult time eating.

            All the while, my mother stroked my head slightly, her long red nails playing delightfully across my skin. For several minutes, she held me to her, and slowly I began to feel that her heart rate was dropping. As time went by, her strokes became less and less consistent. Her breathing- something that I was acutely aware of because of the rise and fall of her massive chest- became shallow and docile.

            The huge woman had fallen asleep with me still clutched to her.