On Monday and Tuesday I spent as much time as I could in Yvonne’s company.  My flirting somehow became even more crass than usual.

“Did you get laid this weekend?” I asked her.

“Only technically,” she replied.

“Jeff still has lockjaw?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t,” I said, puffing myself up.  “I’d keep going until you came home.”

She smiled but she didn’t meet my eyes.

By Tuesday afternoon, I was a bundle of raw nerves.  When it was time for her to leave, Yvonne came into my office.

“Try to get some sleep,” she said.  “Don’t think about the dep.”

I started to realize the toll my distress was taking on Yvonne.  I stood up and tried to look cocky.

“It’ll be fine,” I said.  “Olivia will get him to admit under oath that he has no case and the dep will be over in an hour.”

She gave me an encouraging smile as she walked over to give me a hug, the first time she had ever done that.  I returned her embrace, hoping to keep the creepy uncle vibe to a minimum.

“See you in the morning,” she said as she left.

I needed two glasses of Jameson to get to sleep that night.

* * *

I got to work early on Wednesday.  I swung by Yvonne’s office first thing, but wasn’t there.  I checked my work email, but there was nothing from her.  No voicemails, either.  Finally, I called the front desk.

“Yvonne is out today, staying home with her sick daughter,” said the receptionist.

She’s her step-daughter, I thought, but I said nothing.  I got an email from Olivia, summoning me to her office immediately.  I went numb.

Zorah wasn’t at her desk when I arrived, but as I approached Olivia’s office Zorah appeared and followed behind me.  Olivia looked past my shoulder to address her.

“Is the conference room ready?” she asked.  I didn’t dare turn around.

“All set,” replied Zorah.

“Great,” said Olivia.  “Come on in, Tyler.”

I closed the door behind me as I shuffled into Olivia’s office.  She was wearing a relatively conservative jacket and skirt with a white silk blouse.  Her locks were bound up with a subdued blue cloth.  She wore no hose, and for shoes she had chosen designer pumps that complemented her hair wrap.  Standing in front of her desk, she looked me up and down.

“You’re looking very preppy today,” she said, no doubt referring to my pullover and loafers.  Before I could reply, she said, “Inshil-hatam.”

The heavy sweater billowed less than my button-down shirts and fell behind me as I shrunk.  It was my first time shrinking from a standing position, and my feet slipped out of my shoes as I contracted to a point atop the pile of my pants and underwear.

I got a good look at Olivia’s expensive shoes with three-inch heels as she walked over to me.  I stood there, paralyzed by resignation and dread, when I was snapped out of my trance by the sight of Olivia’s giant bright red panties hitting the floor right in front of me.  As an echo of my former existence, I remembered how sexy I first found Olivia, and I recognized that—even after all she had done to me—on some level I was still very attracted to her.  I still wasn’t sure if I wanted what was happening to happen, but for the moment I liked what I was seeing.

The surge of blood flowing to my cock was all-natural as I looked up and watched her brown redwood-sized legs splay out as she squatted and hiked up her skirt.  With an arm as long as a bus she reached down to claim me, her hand enclosing my body and pointing my feet towards her crotch.

“Remember, little Tyler; stay strong,” she said, looking down between her legs and as she nestled my tiny feet between her pussy lips.  Slowly she worked my ankles, thighs, and hips past her vulva and into her vagina.  Her irresistible thumb and forefinger pinned my arms to my sides as my tiny stiffy slid across the threshold, and her warmth flowed through my torso as more and more of my body was enveloped by her pussy.  When only my head and neck remained outside her inner lips, her fingers withdrew, leaving me facing upwards at her clit, my face brushing against her dark wiry pubic hair.

The wind was almost knocked out of me as she stood up and her abdominal muscles contracted about me.  My blood rushed to my head as I hung upside down in her crotch and she pulled her panties back up, blanketing my world in red silk.  Then her skirt came back down, leaving me in near-darkness.

I struggled to keep my bearings as Olivia walked, stopped, bent over, sat down, got back up, picked up items, and made her way to the conference room for the deposition.  At no time was I in danger of slipping out of her pussy and into the jostling crotch of her panties, but it was nevertheless a slippery ride.  I was light enough that she didn’t have to exert her muscles to keep her grip on me, but I was heavy enough that each shift in orientation resulted in friction along her sensitive membranes.  And along my cock.

The must of Olivia’s sex surrounded me, but she must have scented her lingerie that day because the tent of her panties brought the fragrance of honeysuckle into her tropical garden, and the mélange was surprisingly soothing.

Olivia’s pulse resonated in the tissues around me, echoing in my ears and bringing a flush to my skin.  My boner had proceeded at its own pace, but now it was as insistent as it had been during my previous shrunken encounters with Olivia.

She finally sat down and settled into the deposition, her titanic legs crossed, surrounding my head with thigh and heat and darkness.  As the examiner, Olivia was obliged to speak loudly for much of the deposition, but gradually her reverberating words started to seem distant compared to her heartbeat and the rush of her blood.  And mine.

As Olivia fell into the rhythm of question and answer, a new appreciation of my circumstances started to dawn on me.  While I was utterly imprisoned in Olivia’s crotch and would be totally at her mercy once she left the deposition, for the moment I seemed to be beyond her reach.  Even though I was so small that I would be easy prey for a petulant squirrel, the fact remained that my ripe and voluptuous boss had let me into her pussy.

My whole body was slick with sweat, and I suspect the act of shrinking me had somewhat aroused Olivia, because the membranes that embraced me brought their own secretions.  So I had plenty of lubrication available when I grabbed my aching cock and started pumping.

The reaction from Olivia was immediate.  Even through my masturbatory frenzy I heard her stumble through her next question.  Her pelvic muscles slammed into me, but as powerful as they were they couldn’t contract into a small enough volume as to prevent me from tugging my pud.  Her immense thighs rubbed together, but my head was too well-cushioned between her plump lips.

There was no need to fantasize; I was neck deep in Olivia’s wet hot sex.  My entire body was where my dick wanted to be, and for just under ninety seconds what my dick wanted was all that I wanted.  As I started to cum, Olivia must have leaned forward because the roof of her cunt pressed down on me even harder, but I was beyond the point of no return.  I shot my tiny load into her giant canal, but my jizz splashed back upon my chest and stomach, along with a tenfold fluid contribution from Olivia for which I flattered myself I was responsible.

Blood rushed to my head as Olivia stood up and began to walk, a few polite steps at first then accelerating to a steady stride.  Her heels echoed on a linoleum floor, a latch was slid home, her skirt came up and her panties came down.  I tilted my head back to gaze upon a porcelain pool of doom beneath me.

“I have half a mind, little Tyler,” she hissed, “to flush you down right now.”

I yelped as she abruptly sat on the toilet seat, and I dropped below the rim into semi-darkness.  I didn’t dare look up past her abdomen and breasts to see her face, but her giant fingers swooped down and pinched me about my chest and back.  I easily slipped out of her pussy, but she didn’t immediately drop me into the cold water below.  She instead continued to pinch me painfully between her thumb and forefinger, bringing me before her furious face.

“Consider yourself lucky, little Tyler,” she said.  “I don’t have to take you out for this.”  The cataract of her urine started echoing in the bowl.  I didn’t look down, but perhaps I should have, because the wrath in her eyes and the power in her terrible jaw were enough to make me lose control of my bowels.

Fortunately, my tiny turd fell between Olivia’s giant legs and joined her waste.  She gave a derisive sneer and deposited me atop the cold toilet paper dispenser with exaggerated disgust.  She left me there, shivering and soiled, while she wiped herself.  I cringed as she made as if she were going to grab me with the wet wad, then she chuckled at me as she pulled it back and dropped it in the bowl.

She leaned forward to retrieve her purse, which had been hanging from the coat hook on the back of the stall door.  She pulled out a packet of sanitary wipes and opened it.  With one hand she grabbed me and held me upside down, my legs flailing above her fist, and with the other she roughly dragged a wet wipe between my tiny ass cheeks.  After disposing of the wipe, she set me back on the metal shelf and took from her purse a roll of first aid tape.

“I guess this is how it’s going to have to be from now on, little Tyler,” she said with mild disappointment.  I flinched as she loudly unreeled a length of tape and tore it off.  She gave a cold smile as she grabbed me again and tightly wrapped the tape around my arms and torso, binding my hands to my sides.  Again pinching me about my chest and back, she lowered me between her legs and below the rim of the toilet, and then she let go.

“Whoops,” she snickered, catching me by my ankles at the last second.  She reached down with her other hand and held her lips open while she inserted me like a fresh tampon.  “See you later, little Tyler,” she said.  “I know you’ll do a good job in there.”

She left my head outside like before, but the rest of my body was held utterly immobile.  As thoroughly contrived sexual visions of Olivia danced before my mind’s eye, my cock started to swell with hydrological inevitability.  But this was no longer my fantasy, and my erection remained an implanted reflex.

Olivia stood up, raised her panties over my face, and brought her skirt back down.  As she returned to the deposition, I was troubled less by Olivia’s magical enthrallment of my cock than by the glimpse I had caught of the shoe and foot in the adjacent restroom stall, and the freckled ankle that was all-too-familiar.