Clayton

Clayton awoke in confining darkness, humid, air slightly pungent, sweat, hint of urine, a tang in the back of his throat. He sensed movement, the pressure holding him shifting. Softness everywhere, and hair? Pubic hair?! Coughing, he tried to move his arms to his head, his eyes stung. Fog receding, he knew where he was, plastered up against a vagina, tight panty snugging him firmly against it. He chuckled wryly, maybe this heaven or hell? The pounding in his skull reassured him he was still alive, at least for now. He surmised he was a guest in Olivia’s undergarments, doubting very much Sophie or the other woman Andrea would have kept their delicate girl regions in a condition similar to an overgrown garden. Trying to twist, it was near impossible. Finally he was able to snake a hand up his body to scrub at his eyes. He could feel the pressure around him intensifying, the flesh molding to him getting warm, denser even, as it engorged. Is she getting turned on? He could feel warm dew as her vagina lubricated. He stopped moving. Suddenly he felt strong pressure pushing against the back of his head and shoulder, mashing his face against the delicate flesh. The pressure moved him around slowly before vanishing. What was she doing? The panty pulled up tight crushing his body into her, he knew she was sitting. Unable to do anything to improve his situation at the present, he began prioritizing his strategies. Number one, trying to think of ways to get Olivia to let him live. She already demonstrated a willingness to dispatch anyone who opposed her, so how could he gain her confidence back? She already had complete access to all of his research. Number two, if number one was successful, he knew the only possible hope for any potential restoration lay in Olivia’s hands. Number three, convincing her to restore him, knowing he was a liability would make that nearly impossible. He wondered how Olivia had enlisted Sophie’s aid, the girl was always so quiet and shy. A pretty egghead, but egghead nonetheless.

Action plan for priority one, he began to knead and massage the flesh around him, finding it responsive. He guessed the fact it had been a long time since she had received any type of attention in the area made his task easier. The more aroused she became, the wetter she became and the easier it became for him to move in the confined space. Working away in the dark, the space grower more restrictive as her body reacted to his ministrations. He feel the crushing pressure again, pressing him hard against her delicate and tender flesh. He could feel muscular contractions as she achieved release. He chuckled to himself, surprised at his own level of arousal covered in her sticky juices. If he could get her to trim the hedges, maybe this was heaven. 

Bryce

Getting Bryce into the wheelchair proved to be entirely more difficult than any of the women imagined. First off, he had zero interest in helping these crazy broads do whatever it was they planned to do. At over two hundred pounds, he simply made himself dead weight, doing everything in his power to be as uncooperative as humanly possible. Every time they managed to get him into the chair, he would go limp and slide back out.

“I say we ice pick him, then take his corpse to the lab,” growled Olivia.

Bryce’s eyes widened. Ice pick? Jesus! What the hell were these dames thinking?

Andrea’s mouth formed a perfect circle, her own eyes wide as she shook her head.

Sophie chuckled, “We’re not to ice pick him,” she assured, “But we could apply a little bit of pressure to, let’s say a sensitive portion of his anatomy to make him a little less combative,” she added, eyes drifting down his body to his crotch.

Olivia nodded. Looking him in the eyes, she said, “What do you think Bryce? You going to be a good little boy or,” she made a cutting motion with her fingers.

He stared at her hard, then finally gave a single sharp nod of his head.

“Good boy,” she congratulated, slapping him lightly on his cheek.

As per the original plan, Olivia went in first and drew Warren away from the security desk. Sophie used her key to get in and together with Andrea they took Bryce up to the third floor lab, wheeling him directly into the room with the GCR.

He had no idea what they had in store for him, but knew it probably wasn’t good, the whole place looked like some type of high tech torture chamber. The women left. Moments later, lights on the machine situated on the work station began to light up and there was a whirring sound, like something revving up.

Olivia arrived in the lab.

“I’ve been thinking again that if we modulate the frequency slightly, we might be able to control the size variable,” she said, pointing at the wave length on the computer monitor. Sophie nodded, following along intently, Andrea walked over to the window to the machine work room to look at Bryce.

“I want to try it,” Olivia said, finger dancing across the keyboard, narrowing the band spectrum and reducing the amplitude of the wave.

“What will it do?” Sophie asked.

Olivia grinned, hypothetically, it should focus the beam and increased the power of the pulse, causing a greater reduction in mass and size,” she answered.

Sophie nodded.

Using her mouse, Olivia moved the cursor over the ‘Initiate’ panel on the computer screen and clicked the button.

Bryce felt the beam hit him rather than see it. It felt strong and potent, like being hit square in the chest with a baseball bat, knocking the wind from his lungs. His whole world began to expand and distort, the adhesive from the duct tape the girls had used to bind him pulling cruelly where it was on his skin as his body shrank away. He screamed and tried to peel himself away, but couldn’t the glue holding him tight.

Entering the GCR room, Olivia bent over and sifted through the now uninhabited clothes on the seat of the wheelchair. She found Bryce, lying mostly on his back, atop duct tape, leaving him like a mouse stuck in a glue trap, the adhesive holding him fast. He was only perhaps an inch tall, maybe a bit more. She grinned, then noticed how hopelessly stuck he was.

“I hadn’t thought about that?” commented Olivia, slipping her hand under the strip of tape holding Bryce and extricating him from the clothing. Walking back out to the other office, she laid the tape on Sophie’s desk.

 “I can’t believe he’s so small, he is like way smaller than Clayton,” whispered Andrea, looking down on Bryce’s immobile form, touching his chest with the tip of her finger.

“You were right,” Sophie said, nodding to Dr. Featherstone.

“He’s stuck,” Andrea commented.

“We are going to need a solvent to break down the adhesive,” Sophie said.

Olivia nodded.

“Why?” he asked, tiny voice pleading as he looked up at Andrea towering over him.

Andrea frowned. “I guess I just got tired of being used. You come over do your thing, then leave. I wanted something more. Now I have you,” she replied, removing her finger.

“How does doing this to me solve any of your problems? You’re still a broke ass bitch!” he yelled, temper rising as the queasiness in his stomach receded.

Andrea frowned and nodded, “It’s true, my finances are in shambles. You were such a big help in my time of crisis,” she answered smartly.

“Fuck you,” he replied indignantly, “I spoiled you. How many times I bring food over? Or take you out?” he demanded.

Olivia looked at Sophie, then down to Bryce. “You should be a little more polite considering your current situation,” she snapped, brow furled.

“Undo whatever it is you’ve done here and I’ll be on my way and have a nice fucking life,” he countered.

Sophie looked to Andrea, “And I thought Theo was being difficult, I might owe him an apology,” she chuckled, shifting her hips slightly as Ted moved inside her underwear.

Andrea shook her head, still astonished by the wee figure of her ‘boyfriend’ trapped in the tape.

“We have some isopropyl,” suggested Sophie, looking over to Olivia.

The doctor nodded, “Good thinking, the hydroxyl will form hydrogen bonds and dissolve the water molecules,” she said, nodding.

“I’ll get it,” volunteered Sophie.

“Okay,” answered Olivia, “I need to catalogue my data.”

“Is there any way we can make him a little bigger, he’s so teeny, I’m afraid I might break him,” said Andrea.

Olivia exchanged looks with Sophie as the younger woman returned with the clouded plastic bottle of alcohol. “So far we’ve only been able to reduce. Even if I attempted to adjust the setting in reverse, I think we might make him even smaller,” she replied, mind considering the implications and the scientist in her now curious about what might happen.

“Okay,” acknowledged Andrea as Sophie removed the cap and poured a small measure of the clear liquid over Bryce’s lower body.

“It’s making my eyes burn,” he complained, the smell overpowering in his little nostrils.

Despite his protests, the alcohol did begin to break down the adhesive and he was able to pull himself away, moving off the tape.

Reaching down, Andrea carefully shepherded him into her hand and brought it up in front of her face.

Bryce glowered at her, down on one to support himself as her hand moved.

“All done,” said Olivia returning. “I’m going to get Elliot to review some of this data. I still want to make the machine portable, the applications are nearly limitless.”

Sophie nodded.

“You’ll probably want to tuck him away somewhere,” Olivia said, pointing at Bryce as Andrea started to follow, little man still in the palm of her hand.

“Oh right,” Andrea said before frowning.

“Bra maybe?” offered Sophie.

Andrea nodded and smiled. Pulling over her top, she eased Bryce into the padded cup, the massive mammary covering him like an avalanche of flesh as she released the fabric.

Together, the three women, each with a passenger tucked away on their persons, departed the lab.