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Friday: 2’6”

I awoke with the same seething rage from the night before, hating Kyra and everything about her.  Though I still admitted that she was right about me needing a crib, for safety reasons, I nevertheless cursed the wooden bars surrounding me on all sides, now stretching even higher above my reach after my latest drop in height.

But, as I heard Kyra’s door open and her feet shuffle down the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a growing terror at the thought of what she would do to me.  I remembered all too well her threat last night before dropping me in here.  And I refused to allow myself any hope for her mercy; she couldn’t fool me.  I knew how sick and twisted she truly was.  The last few weeks had been an endless barrage of pain and humiliation at her hands, and why should I expect anything different.

‘I won’t be nearly so lenient this time’.  Her words echoed over and over in my head as I heard her footsteps approach my door.  Be strong, James.  No matter how hard she punishes you, you have to resist.  But as the door creaked open I had my doubts as to how much of her abuse I could withstand now.

I couldn’t yet see her face in the dim light of my room, but it was no doubt unpleasant.  Her Brobdingnagian form approached my crib, looming far above me.  But, to my amazement, as she leaned down with hands on her knees, I was able to see nothing but the sweetest expression on her face.  I had been cringing in fear until that moment, but as she smiled warmly down at me I suddenly felt at ease, almost happy.  I couldn’t help it; she was just so big, so overwhelming, and her smile was already starting to rub off on me.

“Good morning, Jimmy,” she said soothingly.  “How did you sleep?”

Still in shock, I stammered, “Uh … G-Good, I guess.”

“Wonderful.  Are you ready to get up and have some breakfast?”

I wasn’t looking forward to the day at all and wanted some more time to myself before it began.  But, as her long arm stretched down and rubbed my belly tenderly, I caught a whiff of her sweet perfume and drank in the sight of her milky white breasts spilling deliciously out of the top of her work attire.  … Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to start my day now …

“OK, Mommy,” I agreed, letting her pluck me out of the crib and carry me downstairs.  Oh my God, she was enormous!  My change in height from yesterday was very noticeable; after all, I was only perhaps 30 inches tall now, so 2 inches of change felt like way more now than it was before.  Her arms were big yesterday, but today they were clearly longer than my entire body as she cradled me.  For God’s sake, as she nestled me in the space under her right breast, I realized that her breasts extended out from her body farther than my entire body’s width!  These two humungous spheres were completely unavoidable as they filled my vision and pressed all along my torso and thighs.

For the time being, I completely forgot about the promise I had made to myself, to resist her at all costs, as she fed me spoonful after spoonful of baby food and then endless gulps of milk, until I again couldn’t handle any more.  As she held my gaze lovingly, I wondered if this could possibly be the same woman I had loathed all last night and this morning.  It didn’t seem possible to be mad at such a wonderful person.

Half an hour later, when we arrived at Mommy’s office, I discovered that my playpen was no longer there.  “Does this mean I get to sit with you, Mommy?” I asked hopefully.

“No, sweetie, I’m sorry.  Mommy has to work.  Ms. Johnson is bringing something for you to sit in – Ah, there she is now.”

Ms. Johnson came into view wheeling a small chair on wheels.  I realized it was a baby chair, complete with two holes for the baby’s legs to fit through and straps to keep the baby in place.  “Here you go.  Enjoy, Jimmy!”  Ms. Johnson patted my head as she pushed it in front of me then took her leave.

Once she was gone, I turned to Mommy and pleaded, “Please don’t make me sit in that!”

As Mommy lifted my body up and slid my legs through the holes, she told me, “Well, I’m sorry if you don’t like it, Jimmy, but you proved yesterday that we can’t trust you to stay in the playpen.”

“Well, I can just sit here.  I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Jimmy,” she sighed, shaking her head.  “Have you already forgotten what happened the last time we let you do that?  If you don’t remember, I’m sure Ms. Adams would be more than happy to remind you.”  I turned my head to see Ms. Adams peering back at me disdainfully.

Point taken.  “OK,” I relented (not like I really had a choice).  The straps were draped over my shoulders and chest and buckled tightly, and they might as well have been steel cables mounted in concrete since my feeble muscles had not the slightest chance of unbuckling them and freeing myself.  My day suddenly got even worse as Mommy fished my pacifier out of her bag and strapped it onto my mouth.

I sat in my tight prison for the entire morning with an ever growing sense of ennui as I watched the comings and goings of the members of this office.  I watched Mommy intently whenever she was around, staring at her backside from my poor vantage point in the middle of the cubicle.  Unfortunately, she was often away from her desk, no doubt managing and networking with other employees.  But whenever she returned, she flashed me a warm smile and even came over once in a while to pat me on the cheek or rub my belly affectionately.  I very much enjoyed those parts of the day, but all the rest were miserable.

Lunchtime rolled around, and she pulled my chair to her desk and was about to feed me where I was.  I begged repeatedly to be let out and have her feed me in her arms, and after much whining I got my wish.  Oh!  To have been so close to her all morning yet unable to touch her and share my affections –that was almost excruciating.  But for the next 10 minutes I was in heaven –that is to say, in Mommy’s arms.

Though I whined and protested, she soon put me back in my baby chair and turned back to her work.  “That’s enough whining, Jimmy.  I really have to focus now.”

“But can I at least sit closer to you?”  I was desperate.

She shrugged and said, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

I told her, “Thank you, Mommy!” as she pulled my chair up to the edge of her desk, facing her.  But she picked up the dreaded pacifier again and brought it to my mouth.  I protested, “I don’t need—grpmhmpf.”  She wiggled my nose lightly before turning back to her computer.

I was peeved about the pacifier, but quickly I got over it as I enjoyed the view.  I could have reached out and touched her if my harness wasn’t holding me in place so tightly.  But I couldn’t complain; I now had an outstanding view of her graceful figure in all its glory, and for the next two hours I gazed at her dreamily, ignoring the rest of my surroundings and focusing only on her.

Alas, she had to leave for practice again, and I shed some tears as she left me all alone –well, technically, Ms. Adams was still there, but she meant nothing to me now.  I spent the next hour waiting for 5:00 to roll around and fantasizing about what Mommy and I would do together that evening.  Slowly, though, those familiar doubts began to creep into my mind again, and for the first time since that morning I remembered my solemn oath to resist her brainwashing.  But … it seemed rather silly to me now; how had she possibly been brainwashing me today?  All she did was sit there and let me watch her.  She had done nothing wrong; well, I guess, except for the pacifier, but could I blame her?  She had important things to do and couldn’t be distracted.

Still, I felt a twinge of uneasiness as the remaining hours ticked away.  But I suddenly felt much better when Mommy returned to the office and took me home.

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I took one last bite of baby food as Mommy wiped off the mess I made on my chin and carried me to the couch.  “No milk, Mommy?” She had fed me quite a bit of baby food but I was surprised to not receive any of the milk, which admittedly I had taking a liking to, despite my earlier reservations.

“Oh, a bit later, sweetie,” she said simply, making me think no more of it.

Actually, I had more important things on my mind, something that had continued to trouble me ever since she put it over my mouth again today.  “Mommy,” I asked politely, trying my best not to aggravate her like yesterday, “maybe now you could explain why I need a pacifier?  And why you’ve been treating me like a baby?”

Mommy smiled down at me condescendingly, as if the answer was obvious.  “But you ARE a baby, Jimmy.  Here, let me show you.”  She carried me over to the kitchen and stood me against the wall with the height marks.  “30 inches –just a smidge taller than your average 12-month-old baby boy,” she announced, like it was an open-and-shut case.

As she carried me back to the couch, I protested, “But that doesn’t mean I’m actually a baby!”

She sighed, sat down, and told me authoritatively, “For all practical purposes, yes it does.  What can you do now that a baby can’t?  You can’t work, you can’t drive, you can’t open a doorway; for goodness’s sake, you can’t even go potty without my help!  You’re completely helpless now, like an infant, and you need me to be your Mommy, to help you.  Why can’t you appreciate all the things I do for you?”  She looked down at me lovingly as she pressed my body tighter to her, causing the immense weight of her right breast to partially envelop my small torso.  She had put on the same light pink shirt from yesterday, and I was able to feel the full softness of her bosom through the loose-fitting layer of cotton.  I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to shut up and just enjoy my position.  Oh, how easy it would be to just lift my hand up and drag it across her pillowy flesh …

But I knew I had to press the issue before it was too late.  “I do appreciate you!  But being physically weak and helpless is different than being a baby!  I mean, I still talk and act like an adult.”

“Really!?” Mommy replied, surprised by my foolish statement.  “You honestly think you’ve been acting like an adult???”  I nodded uncertainly.  “I don’t believe it.  You’ve done nothing these last few weeks but whine and complain and get yourself into the worst sorts of trouble imaginable!”

“But those weren’t my fault!  I—“

Her enormous hand covered my mouth as well as much of my face as she cut me off to say, “See?  This is exactly the kind of immaturity I would expect from a 2-year-old!”  Her temper was flaring, and I feared the worst, but to my relief she managed to calm herself down and say, “You know, in the past I would have taken it upon myself to teach you a lesson, in hopes that the pain would help you to learn.  But, like I said yesterday, I won’t do that anymore; you’re too emotionally immature now to understand that type of attitude adjustment.  I know the only way to help you now is for you to help yourself.  I want you to take time now to reflect on everything that’s happened since you started shrinking, and I want you to be completely honest with yourself: have you acted maturely, or like a child?”

She removed her hand and I was about to argue again but her stern glance changed my mind.  Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.  Although, as I stole another glance at her bosom moving rhythmically up and down with her breaths, I wished she would let me think on my own for a while.  I tried to pull myself up and away, but Mommy rested her hand on my stomach and said softly, “Just relax, Jimmy, and think … That’s it.  Good boy.”  She gently stroked my cheek.

I still had enough wits about me to know how easily she was able to cloud my judgment, but it would be OK for now –I would just have to make a conscious effort to avoid falling into her trap, and it would be fine.

I took a deep breath and thought back to the events of the last few weeks.  So much had happened; it was difficult to sort through it all.  But one thing was still clear to me: whether deliberately or accidentally, Mommy had time and time again misconstrued the facts and found me to be guilty when in reality I was not.  A few recent events came to mind.  First, my escape from the playpen yesterday was only brought on by my urgent need to urinate; if I hadn’t disobeyed her order the floor of her office would now be covered in piss, and imagine how she would have reacted to that!  And what about the spiteful note left by Grace, the babysitter: sure, maybe I had acted a bit immaturely around her, but that didn’t change the fact that the paper was filled with lies.

… Well, perhaps the issue wasn’t so simple.  I remembered how cold and ruthless Ms. Adams had become after she found out about it.  Whether I ought to believe her or whether it was the unspeakable terror I was put through that was making me say it, I had begun to feel like maybe I really was at fault in bringing about Amy’s downfall.  I should have done more to prevent it; hell, I would even go so far as to say I should have admitted to everything on that paper, if it meant that it would spare Amy from the horrible grief I had put her through.  If only I hadn’t been so selfish.

… And, well, I had to admit that I was indeed guilty of a few things these past weeks.  Like how I snuck into Kyra’s room and tried on her clothes and came on them.  And when I spied on her when she was alone in her room that one night.  And it was, of course, my fault for ruining Amy’s favorite outfit … As I continued to think back over the last few weeks, I came up with more and more and more things I was actually guilty of.

But the more I thought about it, the hazier my memory became.  For example, I couldn’t remember what happened to cause me to have to walk home from the mall, so long ago – I feel like she was acting way out of line that day, but wait –wasn’t I the one who kept trying to control what she wore, even though she was clearly mature enough to decide for herself?  I mean, for God’s sake, LOOK AT HER.  As I stole another glance at her womanly figure and confident facial features, it seemed absurd to think that she needed to be told what to do.  So when I kept pestering her about her clothing choices and whining about how long she was taking at the mall, wasn’t she just a LITTLE bit justified in leaving me there and driving off?  Didn’t I kind of … deserve it?

Oh my God.  The more I thought back, the more I realized how childish and immature I had acted towards her.  How much I nagged her about how she looked, how she talked, how she behaved in public –I couldn’t blame her for getting frustrated and telling me how immature I was being.  Because, let’s face it, she was always incredibly mature for her age; I would even argue she was more mature than most adults.  And, as I thought back to how I had behaved these last few weeks, I discovered, without a doubt, that she had consistently acted much more maturely than I had!

Think about it.  When my daughter finally beat me in basketball, I should have been overjoyed to see her succeed, but how did I react?  I hated her.  I felt jealous and bitter.  That was not the behavior of a grown man, a father –I had already been acting like a child who can’t cope with his emotions.  And that was weeks ago; as time went on I had only gotten worse and worse!

Jesus.  Maybe Ms. Adams was right about me never truly changing – did I really change after her beating last week?  No.  It lasted several days, but soon enough I went right back to my selfish, childish ways, and since then I hated all of them as much as ever.

But freshest in my mind was how Mommy had treated me today and yesterday.  Hadn’t she shown every me bit of the love, kindness, and understanding that I had needed so badly after my near-death experience yesterday afternoon had left me barren of hope?  She had proven herself again and again, holding me tightly when I needed support, explaining patiently everything I asked, and, most of all, even after my despicable outburst, she abstained from physical punishment, trusting in my innate goodness despite all evidence to the contrary.  I began to sob as I realized how incredibly stupid and childish I was for betraying her like that.

Of COURSE she must have a good explanation for the pacifier, and for treating me like a baby.  I was just too immature to trust her after she, quite reasonably, wished to postpone that discussion until this morning.  Oh, how foolish I was!  I felt deeply grateful now that she had chosen not to beat me again.  And, to be honest, I couldn’t say I didn’t deserve every bit of punishment she could deliver.

“Oh, Mommy, I’m so so sorry!!  You’re right about everything!!  I’ve been so stupid and immature these last few weeks, and I deserved to be punished!”

Her face lit up in happiness but soon changed to a thoughtful frown.  “Hmm … that’s not the first time you’ve said that …”

“But this time I mean it, really!!  I know you only ever wanted to help me understand.”  Everything was clear to me now; I finally understood the logic behind everything she had done.  It was all for my benefit, to help me see the truth in my misguided ways.  And finally, I had – or was beginning to, at least.

She nodded but still was a bit uncertain.  “So do you understand why you need the pacifier?”  I nodded vigorously.  “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, Mommy.  I need the pacifier to keep me from bothering you and saying all the naughty things I say.”

She nodded, pleased with my response.  “Good, Jimmy.  And why do you need to be treated like a baby?”

I eagerly replied, “I need to be treated like a baby because I’m too small and childish to make my own decisions and I need to rely on you for everything.”  As an afterthought, I added, “And thank you SO much for being such a nice and wonderful Mommy!”

“You’re welcome, little baby!” she replied ecstatically, smothering me in a passionate motherly embrace, and I loved every second of it.

But as she pulled me back she paused for a second pensively.  “You agreed that you need to be treated LIKE a baby.  Hmm … I have one final request, Jimmy.”

“Anything, Mommy.”  I was desperate to please her.

Taking a deep breath, she told me in a low, slow voice, “Jimmy, I want you to let go of any memory you have of being bigger than a baby, of being an adult or a father, or of me ever being your daughter.  I want you to promise me you will forget everything that ever happened in your life before this very moment.  You are not simply ‘like’ a baby, Jimmy.  I want you to tell me, from the bottom of your heart, that you ARE A BABY … And then, since babies do not talk, I want you to never speak another word again, as long as you live.”

My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped open.  My heart pounded a mile a minute as adrenaline coursed through my veins.

This was it.  There would be no turning back; I was about to sign my life over to Mommy completely.  Was it fair?  Was it right?  And even if I wanted to, could I even bring myself to take that step?  Could I really submit to her one hundred percent?  I hesitated.  No, I don’t think I can do that; it was too far …

But, then again, why wouldn’t I?  I would be so happy, so content; all my troubles would be taken care of, and I could give in forever to the sweet glory of her embrace, basking in her love for me.  “I … I…”  My body was shaking uncontrollably as I prepared to say the most important words of my life.

But then, something amazing happened, something which could only be described as a miracle.  A small glint of light caught the corner of my eye.  I looked up, up, almost to the ceiling.  There, on the top of the bookshelf, lay a disorganized pile of memorabilia, from my past life.  And, amidst two piles of books aligned just right for me to see through them, I saw a framed picture, previously in the dark but now illumined by some unknown light from outside, coming in through the window.  It may have been the sun reflecting off the car parked in the driveway, or perhaps –and I preferred to think this – it was a light from heaven, shining down in my darkest need to guide my way.  Whether earthly or divine, this beam had lit up a picture of me and Kyra, taken two years ago on a trip out West.  Kyra must not have seen it hiding behind those books, otherwise she would have thrown it away.  In it, I was a full-grown man, sporting a beard and grinning broadly in true happiness.  I remembered now: this was one of my most cherished memories, taken at one of the happiest points in my life, both at work – I would have just met and become smitten with Amy at this point – and at home, with my wonderful daughter, Kyra.  Oh!  How young she looked in the photo, a full foot shorter than I was and still developing but full of wonder and innocence!  My pride and joy, the greatest satisfaction in life: My daughter, Kyra.

The façade of lies and decent had suddenly come crashing down; I was no longer under the spell of ‘Mommy’, seeing in front of me only the little girl in the photo –though, of course, larger in size.  I surprised her with a sudden twist of my body and rolled down her legs, reaching the floor and turning to stand confidently before her, putting my hands on my hips and jutting my chest out proudly like a man.

“NO,” I bellowed in rejection of all she had just asked of me.  Kyra sat silently as if frozen in disbelief at my sudden and complete transformation.  For once, I breathed freely as I shook off the shackles that had held me down so long.  Without the slightest hint of doubt in my voice, I boldly told her, “I am not your baby.  I am a MAN, and I have lived forty-one years on this planet, and though you may take all my possessions, and tie me up in a chair, and force me to eat baby food, you are and always will be my daughter and I’ll always be your father – and you cannot take that away from me!”

I clenched my fists, feeling new energy and vigor coursing through my veins, feelings victorious for the first time in many, many days.  This was for real; this was permanent; I truly felt I had the strength now to withstand anything she could throw at me.  I had been weak before, and even just minutes ago, doubting myself – but the memory of how things once were was enough to keep me holding on strong – forever, I believed.

As I stood proudly before her, Kyra gaped at me in a mixture of profound confusion, shock, and disappointment.  A wide grin slowly crept onto my lips as I enjoyed my moment of glory.  Do your worst, I thought, You have no power over me now.

She stared at me unblinkingly, her mind trying to process the situation.  But, after a great deal of time had passed, her eyes changed to something I couldn’t quite place – I couldn’t tell if they were threatening or compassionate.  But, even as she slowly scooted towards me, I didn’t flinch, despite how utterly massive she was to me now.  She moved within inches of me, sitting on the edge of the couch while stretching her thighs past me on either side of my body, her torso completely filling my vision and her head looming well above me.  But I held strong, matching her gaze with my own unflinching stare, not backing down an inch.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her hand move and adjust something, but I kept my eyes fixed up at hers and couldn’t tell what was shifting in front of my face.  Once whatever she was doing was done, seeing my refusal to lower my eyes, Kyra’s upper body began inching ever closer, so close that I could feel the warmth of her skin.  I still had no idea what if anything had occurred below her face – whatever it was, she seemed to want me to look, but I didn’t, I refused.  But she began to pant softly as her lips parted while her eyes intensified their stare.  Something big began pushing the back of my head, and I quickly realized it was her hand pressing me into her.

I felt only the beginnings of worry as I started to try to physically resist her now – but my attempts were utterly pathetic and useless against just her single hand.  I tried to duck away and sidestep her hand instead – but her other hand had already whooshed up and wrapped around my back, holding me in place as she continued to pull me closer.

Something huge was now looming below my vision, and though I tried to keep my eyes up to her face, she grabbed my hair and tilted my head down, and I was forced to confront the huge shapes before me.

“GAH!” I yelped as my mind tried in vain to cope with the sight of Kyra’s naked breasts, completely bare, the loose fabric of her shirt having been pulled down while I was looking up.  My complete composure and resolve a second ago was now irrelevant: my mind simply went blank, overloaded by the sight of these two massive spheres of womanly perfection, each of them much bigger than my head.

Mommy’s hand gave me a light nudge on the back of the head.  “C’mon, Jimmy, don’t be scared,” she breathed lustily.  My senses returned just enough for me to flail in panic, trying anything I could to escape this situation, knowing I was utterly doomed if I let it proceed.  My attitude could not have been more dissimilar to what it was just ten seconds ago.  I just couldn’t believe her chest was naked – and I couldn’t believe how big and how close they were to my face …

Despite my best efforts, her hands began moving me steadily closer, making sure to line up my mouth with her left nipple.  I pounded my hands again and again on her arms but to her it felt like no more than a leaf landing on her skin.

“Ooohhhh,” Mommy gasped loudly as my lips made contact with the tip of her nipple.  In panic, I tried to use my hands to shift her breast away from my lips, but, being only a small fraction of her size, my hands merely made indentations into the sides of her tit flesh, causing her to respond passionately to my feeble pawing.  They felt so heavy, so ... full …

The tightening of her grip on my hair was the only warning I had before my head was plunged deeply into her breast.  I sealed my lips as tightly as possible to fend off her stiffening nipple as it tried to invade my mouth, while trying in vain to turn my head aside. This only caused my lips to rub along her hard nipple, and I felt her chest rumble in a loud moan as she breathed me, “Ohhhh mmyy Goddd, Jimmy.”  After a few more seconds of my futile struggling, she told me urgently, “Mommy needs her baby to begin sucking now.”

With renewed vigor, Mommy pressed my head even deeper into her breast, completely cutting off my air supply through my nose.  My only option was to breathe through the side of my mouth, but that would run the risk of allowing her nipple into my mouth.  I began to cry as my air supply ran lower and lower, causing me to flail my arms uselessly against her body.  It was only a matter of time before I had no choice.  I un-tensed my lips to allow in a small breath of air, but the incredible pressure exerted by her chest immediately parted my lips, forced open my overmatched jaw, and thrust her nipple completely into my mouth.  Her nipple was perfect, round, normal-sized for her – but almost alarming large to me, the protrusion wider than a quarter and just as deep, forcing my jaw to open a good deal just to fit her inside my mouth.

My whole body was rocked as she spasmed in a bout of ecstasy.  “That’s it, Jimmy!  Ohhh, God, yesss!  Suck harder!!”  Once I had let such a large object into my mouth, there was no chance of pulling it out.  But, as I tried to suck in what little air I could, several times my mouth involuntarily closed around her nipple, causing me suck on her instead.  Every time I did so, things just seemed to click in my mind for a brief moment, sort of like losing consciousness momentarily and being controlled and driven by something else entirely – pure, animal instinct perhaps, telling me exactly what to do with this swollen nipple in my mouth …

Almost unconsciously, I began to open my mouth less and less for air and began to concentrate solely on sucking her nipple.  And wave after wave of intense emotion washed over me.  I began to jerk and spasm as a great battle was being fought within my mind: Jimmy, the baby, the one giving in to her, reemerging in my mind and fighting back stronger than ever against James, the grown man, the self-respecting father and member of society … But my writhing soon subsided as this latter side began to lose ground, weakening, giving way to my new hunger for her …

My body un-tensed and my struggles ended as I gave in completely to her.  Sensing my surrender, Mommy reduced the pressure on my head, allowing my nose enough room to breathe as I continued to suckle passionately at her teat.  She was moaning constantly now, as lost as I was in the heat of the moment.  “Harder,” she urged.

With her encouragement, I lifted both hands to press in on either side of her breast, causing her nipple to protrude even farther as I sucked with reckless abandon.  Seeing that I wouldn’t dream of pulling my head back now, she released the back of my head and lifted me up, sliding back onto the couch as she cradled me in one arm.  With her opposite hand she hastily unfastened her shorts and slid her fingers down, bucking her hips slightly as she began to finger herself.

I was also approaching orgasm as she used her arm to rubbed me rhythmically into her body, creating a wonderful sensation even through the coarse fabric of my diaper.  Then, suddenly, she withdrew me from her nipple, causing me to cry out in dismay.  But my fear of being left wanting more were quelled as I discovered she was only switching me to her other nipple.  I greedily sucked and sucked and sucked, and though I was completely lost in ecstasy, I still felt like something was missing, something that would make this perfect.

And, just then, it happened.  I felt a droplet of warm liquid form on her teat.  Thinking it was my saliva at first, I licked it up and my taste buds were overwhelmed with the most sublime taste I had ever experienced.  It was thicker than water, but still wonderfully smooth, and as I took in the indescribable flavor I immediately felt simultaneously invigorated and soothed.  As I swallowed this elixir I felt it slide electrically down my throat and fill my body with warmth and happiness.

“WHAT WAS THAT!!?” Mommy whispered hoarsely, feeling incredible sensations of her own.  “W-Was that it – did it happen??”  Had she known?  Had she taken something to make it happen?  I never would find out … but I didn’t care.  Not stopping to answer her, I sucked more fervently than ever, desperately needing another taste of that sweet liquid.

Another drop came, and we both almost lost it then and there.  I savored every molecule of that sweet nectar, that ambrosia, food of the Gods.  It was as sweet as honey, but far more full-bodied and satisfying.  The closest similarity I could think of was warm milk, like the whole milk I had been drinking, but that didn’t even begin to do justice to this perfect substance.

…Wait a minute.  Milk.  It WAS milk!  I had tasted Mommy’s breast milk!  This revelation came just as another drop had splashed onto my tongue, and the unbelievable sensations we had both felt brought us simultaneously into an earth-shattering orgasm, Mommy throwing her head back and shrieking as she mashed my face again into her breast, and me wrapping my hands around her plentiful breast to hold on as I convulsed wildly against her.

Our bodies gradually un-tensed as we basked in the afterglow, though my mouth remained attached to her nipple, sucking idly out of reflex.  I glanced up and saw her looking down lovingly at me, and I temporarily withdrew my mouth to turn my face toward hers and return her affectionate gaze.  There was no need to speak; my eyes told her everything: You are my life, You are my world; there is no one but You.  I am Yours.

We sat just so for the better part of an hour, staring deeply into each others’ eyes, hers telling me I would never have to worry about anything ever again; she would protect me and care for me and nurture and feed me, and all because she loved me.

We both became heavy-lidded after sitting in warm comfort for so long.  Neither of us wanted to bother with our beds, so Mommy stood and sauntered over to the recliner, laying back and nestling her baby boy against her body, tossing a blanket over us for warmth.  I draped my arms lazily across her expansive bosom and began to drift off to sleep, but before I did I took one long look into her eyes and whispered, “I love you, Mommy.”  Those were the last words I ever spoke.

 

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One year later

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The hour had finally come.  I stared at her endlessly as she drove us home, excited beyond belief on this day of days.  It was the biggest day I could remember, the one I had looked forward to for months on end.  But I hadn’t known exactly how soon it was until Mommy told me, not five minutes ago when she picked me up, “So, Jimmy, today was my last day of school.  Do you know what that means?”

I knew exactly what it meant: an end to the unbearable torture of her leaving me all day to go to school.  All summer long, she would be bringing me into work, where I could be in her presence all day long – though she spent far more time working there than I would have liked, since Ms. Johnson had finally been able to hire her officially after she recently graduated, and I didn’t know many details, but I knew at least that Mommy was making more than enough money for us and was in charge of other people at the office too.

But the last eight or nine months of her being in school had been so hard on me – I had cried every morning when she dropped me off at the day care center, each time seeming like the worst moment of my life.  I needed her so badly – her comfort, her warmth, her soothing voice, seemingly every minute of every day.  The world was cold and dark without her, but when I was with her there was nothing else; my entire body and soul was channeled directly into her.  When she came to pick me up I squealed in delight and felt complete once more.  I listened intently as she would sometimes tell me how her day went, and I would laugh and smile if she told me she got straight ‘A’s again, or when she would get letters from colleges wanting to give her a scholarship to play basketball for them.  I would pout and cry at even the slightest bit of bad news, my emotions being invested so completely in hers.

But, of course, the best part of my day by far was always feeding time.  Well, not always – every now and then Mommy would feed me some green or orange goop from a jar.  I hated it, but I never complained since Mommy told me it was for my own good and I trusted her completely.  But other than that, my only sustenance came from Mommy’s breasts.  I could never get enough of her heavenly milk; I would suck greedily until my tummy was full, and then I would suck some more until Mommy finally told me that was enough.  Her milk never failed to overwhelm me with sensation, and I loved the warmth and closeness I felt during and after, as most days she would allow me to snuggle against her bare flesh until I dozed off in a contented nap.

I still recall vividly that first time I suckled Mommy’s breast and tasted her milk, and I treated it as the beginning of my life.  I remember the next day as well, when Mommy showed me something sharp; a needle of some sort.  She said it would make me stop getting smaller.  I can’t remember why I was getting smaller, but I know I didn’t want it to stop.  I thought it was wonderful – to wake up and find Mommy bigger each day, giving me that much more to hold on to, letting her envelop me that much more completely in her arms, giving that much more nipple for my mouth to suck on and letting her milk flow into me that much faster – Why would I ever want it to stop?  But after a few days she finally decided I was small enough, and I trust that she knew what was best for me.

I could remember some of my past for a while, but not anymore.  I have almost no memory of the before-time now, nor do I have even the slightest inclination to find out.  On a rare occasion, I might hear or see something that gives me a faint recollection of something from my past, but all that remains of these memories is a dark shadow and a general feeling that my life was hard and unhappy then.

I have everything I could ever want.  Mommy looks after me, feeds me, cleans me, and makes sure my every need is met.  She plays with me and cuddles me, and always makes me feel loved.  My mind, body, and soul belongs only to her, and every moment I’m with her is an eternity in paradise.

As Mommy carried me inside and sat on the couch, I met her gaze longingly.  “Is my wittle baby hungry?”  I nodded enthusiastically as she unbuttoned her blouse and removed her bra, allowing her perfect breasts to spill forward and land with a jiggle in front of my lips.  I opened wide to take in the familiar shape of her nipple as it hardened and grew in my mouth.  As her warm milk began to flow in a steady stream down my throat, I could not imagine living any other way.

THE END

 

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