Mom Chase by idunnow
Summary:

A shrunken son tries to escape his playful mother.


Categories: Breasts, Feet, Gentle, Maternal Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Micro (1 in. to 1/2 in.), Minikin (3 in. to 1 in.)
Size Roles: F/m
Warnings: This story is for entertainment purposes only.
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: Yes Word count: 1040 Read: 17839 Published: January 02 2021 Updated: April 07 2021
Story Notes:

Originally published Dec 18, 2020 on DeviantArt. I plan on uploading more of my published stories to this site over the next few weeks.

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1. Chapter 1 by idunnow

2. Shopping with Mom by idunnow

Chapter 1 by idunnow

The sound of footsteps thundered out behind me as I ran for my life, my legs carrying me as fast as they could go. My head ponded violently, blood and adrenaline rushing through my veins. My mind thought of nothing but escape. Yet no matter how much I ran, I could do nothign to escape even the casual pace of my pursuer.

 

Thud. Thud. THUD.

 

The footsteps fell closer and closer, the earth rumbling with each step. They got so close that I was sure that last one had sounded from right behind me, the ground shaking do much that I nearly fell on my face. Then a titanic tan ceiling passed me by overhead, only to come crashing down before me. It happened so fast that I couldn't stop myself from running into it, and soon faceplanted against that tan, fleshy surface.

 

“Boop. I caught you!” came a voice from above; a deep, booming sound that filled me with dread. As I scrambled up to try and run, two giant fingers descended around me, pinching me between them like no more than an insect. A wave of vertigo hit me as I was lifted up at rocket-like speeds before coming to a sudden stop before two plush, red lips. Immediately, these lips attacked me, pressing against me, almost crushing me against them.

 

“Mmmwah!”

 

With that exclamation I was freed from their attack, though being left with the after math caked all over my body—a thick layer of lipstick covering me. I raised a hand to my eyes, wiping away the waxy stuff, spitting out what had gotten into my mouth. Once I finally opened my eyes, my viison was filled with the face of my tormentor. The face of the woman who gave birth to me. The face of my mother.

 

My mother giggled, her pearly whites flashing before me—a frightening sight now that I was small enough to be crushed between them. “That was a fun game, wasn't it?” she asked, completely oblivious to my terror. “And you were so fast this time! You almost made it halfway down the hall before I caught you! My little man is growing up to be such a good athlete!

 

“But! You still lost, and you know what that means! You're coming along with Mommy on her shopping today.” she said merrily, pulling off her neckace. On the end of which hung a small metal cage—a fancy cage, elaborately wrought and made of gold, but a cage nonetheless. She set me down on the her palm, then lowered the cage in front of me. In resignation, I undid the latch and stepped into my prison, closing it back up afterwards. Once inside I was brought back to my mother's face, where she gave me one more kiss before I was lowered into her cleavage. She slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse before going out into the wider world, her every step jostling my cage and bouncing it between her breasts. I knew I was in for a long day.

Shopping with Mom by idunnow
Author's Notes:

In celebration of reaching 200 watchers, I asked on DA which of my stories they wanted to see a sequel to. This was tied for most requested story, so here's a sequel.

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As my gilded cage dangled from its golden chains, cradled between my mother's breasts, I looked out past the confines of her shirt at that thin wedge of the outside world I could see. Familiar sight passed us by as she walked; places I'd frequented before my unfortunate condition manifested, robbing me of my size and of any hope of leading a fulfilling life. Faces familiar and unfamiliar appeared, most vanishing in the blink of an eye, a few stopping to converse with my mother. All ignored me as something beneath their notice, or else acknowledged me only to give a pitying glance. Feelings of loss stirred within me; I would have turned away without a second thought, had I anything better to turn to.

In time my mother's steps carried us into a boutique, where she amassed a pile of clothes she carried into the fitting room. There she took off the necklace from which I hung and left it dangling from one of the hooks on the wall, giving me a front-row seat to something that would be half fashion show and half striptease.

My mother changed clothes without any care for how much skin she exposed to her son; If anything, she seemed to delight in making me watch as she showed off her body, making playfully seductive gestures at me. The first few times we had done this, I had covered my eyes and looked away, not wanting to watch as my mother almost stripped naked before me. Over time I became used to seeing my mother in various states of undress, not only here, but also at home—in the bathroom, in bed, or just on a lazy day when she didn't feel like getting dressed. Such familiarity bred apathy, and I had long since stopped caring how much of her I saw.

The last piece of clothing she tried on was a tight pair of jeans whose zipper she struggled to pull all the way up, giving a triumphant smile when she finally managed it. She grabbed the necklace off its hook and brought it behind her, dangling my cage before her ass. “Sweetie, do these pants make mommy's butt look big?” she asked as she swayed her hips from side to side. The fabric was pulled taut over her skin, hugging it so tight it followed her every curve perfectly. She reached down and gave herself a quick slap on the ass, one which set put a jiggle into her cheeks. Giggling, she put the necklace back on before changing to her own clothes and leaving the fitting room. She would end up buying almost everything she'd tried on, jeans included.

That night, I lay awake in my mother's navel and waited until I heard her breathing slow and turn into a soft snoring, a sure sign that she had fallen asleep. Only then did I allow my mind to recall the scenes of her in the fitting room. Then, doing my best to ignore the shame I felt, I began pleasuring myself to those images my mother—the only woman whose touch I would ever know again.

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