Olivia sent for me the first thing next morning. I dared not look Zorah in the eyes, so I pretended my errand was so urgent I had no time for niceties.
The first thing I noticed after entering Olivia’s office was that she was wearing the most low-cut blouse I had ever seen on her. Her brown slopes were so visible that I could discern her breasts’ outer curvature. To top it off, her locks were all bound up above her head, further exposing her plunging neckline.
As I approached Olivia’s desk I kept my eyes locked on hers. “What can I do for you?” I asked.
“I’m deposing Peter Dillon this afternoon,” she replied, “and I need your help to prepare.”
I couldn’t believe she was going to a deposition dressed like that, but of course I didn’t say so. Sitting down and readying my notepad, I asked, “What do you need?”
“Just you,” she said, rising. “Inshil-hatam.”
My stomach sank before the rest of me, and the whiff of rotten egg was lost in my growing shirt billowing around me. My pants slipped off my hips and fell to the floor, leaving me on the seat of the chair buried under my shirt.
I can’t do this again, I thought in a panic. Scrambling naked, I pulled on the tent of my former shirt, trying to escape. At last I exposed the edge of the seat, and I was still trying to decide how best to reach the floor when Olivia enclosed me in her giant fist. I was pressed against her warm palm, one armed pinned above my head, my feet poking out into the cool breeze as she raised me up.
Vertigo hit me as her palm and most of her fingers lifted away, with only her thumb and forefinger holding me under my armpits. I dangled naked facing once again her remorseless mouth and pitiless gaze.
“Now, now, little Tyler,” she rumbled with only the coldest smile, “I thought we had settled this. I can take you whenever I want, and I want you now.”
I was helpless as she lowered me facing her chest and throat and slipped me between her massive breasts. My arms were spread across her warm skin, and I could feel her pulse through my hands like the thrum of a turbine deep within a hydro-electric dam. I tilted my head back to look up at Olivia, whose smile had warmed at my predicament.
“Dillon is a minor witness, so this shouldn’t take very long,” she boomed, her words propagating through her chest and vibrating in my legs. “When I depose the plaintiff, I’ll take you with me.”
The world dropped and spun as Olivia bent over to collect my clothes and notepad. With one arm draped over each of her car-sized boobs, I hugged myself to her through all the gyrations. After she had stored my clothes again and returned to her chair, I pulled my strained arms to my sides and sunk lower between the walls of her boobflesh. Finally at rest in that warm crush, my cock began to stiffen.
Olivia glanced down at me between her boobs like a seductive Sphinx eyeing a pilgrim between its paws. “It’s very important, little Tyler,” she said, “that you don’t touch little little Tyler. I need him to stay strong all morning. Do you understand?”
I nodded, my tiny head bobbing between her round tits. The scent of apricots rose from her skin, probably her body wash. I started to imagine the titanic Olivia in the shower, rivers of water cascading off her curves, her powerful torso and limbs bending as she applied the liquid soap. Even worse: a lake of a bathtub, with Olivia’s soapy tits as the warm shore welcoming the shipwrecked sailor. My hand drifted down and had almost completed its migration to my dick when Olivia cleared her mighty throat, and I jerked my arm back in terror.
She didn’t move much as she flipped through documents and consulted her computer, but the least adjustment of her arms or torso caused Olivia’s boobs to sway, gently rocking me in that tide of flesh. The warmth of her skin, the richness of her fragrance, and the cadence of her heartbeat all threatened to put me to sleep, but the insistence of my boner kept me on edge. I had never taken Viagra, but there was something unnatural about the speed and constancy of my erection. Even if I had not been forbidden to do so, I wasn’t sure I could have released myself had I tried.
The final evidence of my hard-on’s artifice came when Zorah walked in. She must have knocked, but I didn’t hear her until she opened the door. She quickly approached the desk while I scrambled to submerge myself completely between Olivia’s boobs. I straightened my legs and pointed them downwards while I reached my arms under as much tit as I could and pushed up. Just as Olivia’s pliant flesh slid over my face, I looked up to see Zorah, her mouth hanging open, her eyes locked on mine.
Please don’t let her realize what she saw, I prayed, entombed in Olivia’s rack. I didn’t completely lack for air, but it very quickly became stifling and hot. More distressingly, my erection persisted, despite my visceral fear of discovery by Zorah. Surely, I thought, that prospect ought to have killed any boner not maintained by supernatural forces.
Sweat, either mine or Olivia’s or both, started to run into my eyes, and it became harder to get enough air. When at last I could no longer bear it, I reached up and pushed the giant boobs apart slightly, admitting a rush of cool air. My perspective was very limited, but I could no longer see or hear Zorah.
I tentatively swam upwards and poked my head farther out of Olivia’s cleavage. When I had more clearly determined that Zorah was no longer present, I looked up at Olivia’s face. Her huge head tilted down just long enough for her to shoot me a smirk that showed just how utterly she possessed me.
I lay there, caught between drowsy arousal and hyper-alert tension, while perspiration accumulated on my naked skin. Even with my hands kept at my sides, the waves of slick boobflesh colliding with my cock threatened to put me over the edge.
Before I lost all control, however, Olivia closed her deposition notebook and looked down at me. “Well, little Tyler,” she rumbled, “I think I have everything I need.”
She reached up and drew me out of her rack with her log-sized fingers. I gasped at the cold shock as she rapidly lowered my shivering frame to the floor near her immense feet. She stood me on the carpet, but as her giant hand lifted away, my legs collapsed and I sank to my knees.
As she leaned forward in her chair, I raised an arm in a futile gesture of restraint, but she nevertheless spoke the word: “Kahp-hasheena.”
My torso was again wracked by pain, and I shut my eyes until I felt my vision return. I had returned to full size, but my arm was still raised to ward off a giant Olivia. I quickly hunched down behind Olivia’s desk and retrieved my clothes. I kept a nervous eye on the door as I pulled my clothes over my sweat-covered body. Lying on the floor, I wrestled my legs into my pants. All the while, Olivia had turned her back to me like I was the janitor emptying the garbage.
Finally, I recomposed myself and stood up. No one else was there, and I was free to leave as if nothing had happened. Then I remembered my raging boner, trying to poke through my pants. I collected my notepad and held it low as I opened the door and peeked out. I didn’t see Zorah, so I scurried to the stairs.
I didn’t even make it back to my office before I had to duck down to the eleventh-floor men’s again. My aching cock was still slick with sweat when I jerked my pants down in the stall. As I pumped my shaft, I tried to envision Yvonne, Erin, Salma Hayek, but thoughts of Olivia kept crowding them out.
In my mind, I was tiny again. Olivia held me before her hungry face, then opened her cavernous mouth. My whole body felt electrified, as if all my skin were as sensitive as my cock. As her giant, plush lips slid over my face and around my shoulders and torso, I recalled a hundredfold the sensations of the blow job she gave me the first night I worked late for her. In the men’s room, I milked my load into the toilet, but in my mind I vomited a gallon of cum out of my mouth and down Olivia’s dark gullet. Her imaginary moans underscored my grunts as I relieved my poor balls of their backwashed jism.