Claire pulled the chair out from under the small round table, its dull metal legs screaming against the textured floor of the relatively empty corner coffee shop. She could see in her peripherals that she’d turned several heads. She didn’t care.  Claire set her hibiscus refresher down, removed her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans, and she took a seat opposite an empty chair. She sat right next to the giant window facing her city’s beautiful park.  Claire always sat there, to the extent that she would firmly ask other patrons to find a new seat if they were in her spot.  

She allowed the sweet, subtle liquid to surround her tongue and cool her throat

Out of the corner of one of her bright, blue eyes, she caught some interesting movement.  It was him.  He looked around for a few moments, scanning the busy crowd of people.  They all moved with such purpose, places to go and people to see. He was looking for her, and nothing about it was subtle. The corners of her lips slightly rose.  

He came.  He actually came.  

Was she really surprised though?  Why wouldn’t he show up?

Claire remained seated, watching the nervous boy on the bench outside.  She had a few sips left of her hibiscus and she was in no hurry to get through it.  The nervous boy had all of Claire’s attention now as he pulled his phone from his pocket.  A notification banner appeared at the top of Claire’s phone screen. It showed a new message from an unsaved number:

“Hey, it's Tom.  I’m at the bench.”

Claire swiped up on the notification, dismissing it, and resumed her internet browsing.  A minute or two later, she saw another annoying banner.  

“Are you on your way?”

Claire rolled her eyes, looking out the window again to see Tom still sitting there.  There was way too much common commotion on the street and sidewalk separating them for Tom to notice Claire.  However, they were close enough that Claire could make him out just fine.  His brown, straight hair was unruly but resembled close enough a stylish look, even if by accident.  He was mildly handsome but hopelessly nervous around women. Some women found that kind of thing cute. Claire found it unattractive and annoying.

The 22-year old dirty blonde sat at the window calm yet engaged, occasionally looking up at Tom. Still he sat waiting for her, bouncing a nervous leg and eyeing each person that appeared in his peripherals as if they might have been her.  She was in no particular hurry so she decided to toy with him. Claire decided she would leave him dangling until he’d given up hope and only once he’d given up, standing to go home alone that she would take this to the next step.  

That never happened.  Ironically enough, after another 10 minutes, Claire was the one who lost her patience.  She dialed his number and she let out a giggle, watching him practically rip his jeans pocket open to get to his phone. 

“Hello?  Claire?”  Tom said with zero cool in his voice.

“Do you know where the purple basketball courts are?” Claire said abruptly, slinging her purse over her shoulder.  

“Umm..yeah, I think so.” Tom replied.

Claire said, “Okay, my house is across from them.  The only one without Halloween decorations.”

“I thought we were meeting at that coffee shop first.” Tom said, trying to conceal his frustration and annoyance in the way horny boys do when they get frustrated and annoyed.” I was gonna buy you a--”

“--nope.” Claire interrupted coldly but bubbly, ready to leave but turning one last time to see his face.  She smirked, watching him bite his lip and look up at the sky silently.  

“That’s like 15 blocks away, right?” Tom sighed.

“From where?”  Claire asked.

“...the coffee shop.”  Tom said, his frustration showing through a little more in his voice.  

“I dunno. If you’re not coming anymore then I’ll--” Claire smiled as he frantically interrupted her. 

“--no, no!  I umm..I must have misunderstood, sorry!  I’ll start walking over there now.” Tom said, already up and walking toward Claire’s house.

“Okay bye.” Claire hung up the call and stuffed her phone deep into her purse. Luckily, the exit to the coffee shop was on the other side so Tom didn’t see Claire getting into her car to drive home.  She drove right by the teenager, bundled up and walking to her apartment.  He clearly wasn’t dressed for the cold.

‘That’s alright..’ she thought with a smile, ‘he’ll have an overabundance of body heat soon enough.’

The only thing that would have made things funnier is if she could have splashed up and doused him in some dirty, freezing street water but alas, it hadn’t rained that day.  You can’t always get what you want.

By the time Claire heard a quiet knock at her front door, she was already settled on her sofa, having had plenty of time to set everything up.  She’d already popped in the DVD she ordered off Amazon a few days prior.  The Lord of the Rings menu popped up and she was ready to hurl.  Claire always thought it was a stupid movie enjoyed by simple people, but she didn’t single Lord of the Rings out in any particular way.  She applied the same mentality to all the cult followings:  Game of Thrones, Marvel, Star Wars…all movies, really.  Video games too.  They were all just huge wastes of time…distractions from what mattered.  Tonight would be different though. Dumbledore, Golum, and their stupid ring were actually going to help Claire accomplish her goal tonight.

She gave herself a look over before getting the door.  Claire had pulled her chin length dirty blonde hair up into a messy but cute bun, and her face was clean of any makeup.  There was nothing new about that last part.  She hardly ever wore makeup.  She wore a comfy black v neck t-shirt and a pair of pink and purple flannel pajamas.  Claire had changed for bed, not expecting to stay up much longer afterwards.  The only things she still wore from their first semi-encounter at the coffee shop were her panties and her socks.  She’d ditched the bra, partially for comfort and partially to further distract the horny boy. She took a moment to rub her B-cup breasts, urging her nipples to harden and protrude against her soft black shirt. It almost wasn’t even fair at this point.

She almost laughed seeing the way his eyes lit up when she opened the door.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Claire said with a smile.

“Sorry…” Tom said out of breath, his toned cheeks bright red. Cloudy, white smoke billowed out from his contrastingly warm mouth, accompanying his feeble apology.  

“Well...are you gonna come in?” Claire asked in some combination of playful and mocking, opening the door wider and guiding him in.  His coat was freezing cold to the touch.  The sneaky 22-year old took one final look outside to see if anyone was watching her guest enter.  Satisfied to see that they had no one’s attention, the dirty blonde shut the door and locked the dead bolt.  

She turned around and caught Tom’s eyes down at her waist.  Claire didn’t have very large breasts or a very notable ass, but she prided herself on her toned stomach and sexy lower back.  She liked showing it off, even in sleepwear.  He nervously brought his gaze up way too high, up in the ceiling, to compensate. 

This was getting a little ridiculous. 

‘I’m hot’ Claire conceded within her mind as she grabbed his wrist and guided him to the sofa she’d been warming.  ‘But I’m not THAT hot.’

His eyes were darting around the small apartment.  He spotted her dining room table and the microscope, stationed near one of the chairs.  

“Oh, cool microscope…any cool samples?” Tom asked innocently.

Claire chucked as they sat down on her sofa. “Oh not yet, but I’ll be looking at one later tonight.”

She saw him swallow hard and dryly, his Adam's apple bobbing.  She could have offered him a drink, but she didn’t. 

“What are you so nervous about?” Claire asked, turning her shoulders to face him and pressing her back against the sofa’s armrest.  

“Oh…….You can tell, huh?” Tom said, looking at his feet then back up at her with a raised eyebrow.  

Wow, that was cute...almost slick.

“Well, yeah...I mean look at you.” Claire said, extending her legs out. She lifted her sock clad feet and set them down on his lap.  When she uncrossed her legs, a pink 3-inch ruler fell from her pajama pants pocket.  He spotted it hitting the couch cushion, but obviously wouldn't have thought anything of it. She tucked it back into her pocket.

“You’re shaking.” Claire grinned.

His eyes widened for a moment as her bright white socks relaxed in his lap. His eyes wandered further up to where her thickening thighs met.  Claire broke the silence, sliding her feet off his lap, feeling with her toes, for a second, the stiffness controlling his brain and motor.  She bounced up on the sofa, sliding her feet under her thighs, sitting indian style on the cushion.

“Okay, so let’s get to it...why are we here.”  Claire said.  Tom was waiting for her to speak but Claire just stared, basking in the uncomfortable silence.  

“Ummm…” Tom made a noise, filling the silence as he thought of what to say, “You said that you would teach me….umm…err…help me get closer to Jeong-Suk.”

“Yup!”  Claire said cheerfully.  “Because you CLEARLY need help...but that’s okay.  Not all boys know what they’re doing..especially when they’re teenagers so don’t worry.”

Claire stood up and circled the couch, resting her small hands on his broad shoulders and started kneading. He was wearing cologne. Way too much. 

“I’ve known Jeong-Suk since elementary school and I can tell that you’re absolutely, 100% her type.”

Tom sighed, enjoying the massage, but then quizzically replied, “Isn’t Jeong-Suk an exchange student from South Korea?”

Claire didn’t stop massaging, and she barely let a moment of silence slip before replying, “Yeah, my parents know her parents and we used to visit there all the time. We would even stay with them and they’d stay with us.”

Tom seemed satisfied with the answer.  He sank further into the comfy sofa, appearing to get smaller.  Claire smiled at the foreshadowing.  It was time.  This would be perfect. He was such a sweet boy. He was smart, he was polite.  He had his whole life ahead of him.  He was perfect.  

Claire leaned down and felt her thick blonde hair brush his.  She whispered into his ear,

“When I come back..” She gave him a big, soft kiss on his smooth, hairless cheek and giggled quietly as he shivered, “We’ll start with Lesson 1.”  Claire pressed play on the dumb movie and left the living room.

Much earlier that morning, at around 4:30 AM, Claire had already started her day. She sat atop her bed and pulled on her sunny yellow panties, a pair of pristine white ankle socks, and then jeans and a cute top. Her look was aesthetic and well-put together, but her hygienic appearance did not match the state of her bedroom.  Clothing was frenetically strewn atop her unmade bed, on her dresser, and all over her floor. Several collapsible tables were set up in various corners of the room. All but one light bulb in her ceiling fan was blown, but it didn’t matter because she never turned it on. The rest of the room was bathed in amber, long-wavelength light from sources stationed atop the collapsible tables. Someone who stumbled across the setup might have thought she was running a meth lab.  

Claire approached the station closest to her bed.  It was a titration station equipped with a conical flask. As of that morning, the conical flask had been filled a quarter of the way with a pale blue titrand, its composition described in her very detailed lab journal. Positioned above the conical flask was her favorite burette.  It was filled with a very special reagent, the 47th titrant she’d developed, to be precise.  It was a long process but she was finally here.  She put the time in, she triple-checked her work, and it was going to work this time, she just knew it.  Instead of its previous pale blue, the titrand in the conical flask was now a bright, vivid pink...which was a very promising sign.  

She quickly put on some gloves and very carefully poured the hot pink titrand into a neighboring beaker.  The beaker had a strip of tape applied with “#159” written in sharpie marker and contained about a cup of clear solvent.  She held her breath as several droplets of the titrand hit the clear liquid.  Claire smiled silently as the clear liquid began bubbling, cycling through several different bright colors before finally calming and settling on a pale pink.  It worked.  

Claire carefully opened the baggie and poured the several grains into the pale pink concoction 

She uncapped a disposable syringe and carefully plunged the tip into the thick liquid.  With rocksteady fingers, she pulled back the plunger and watched the chamber turn pale pink.  

The walk back out to her living room was only a dozen or so steps, but it felt like forever.  Claire rounded the corner and there Tom was, obliviously watching the movie, waiting so patiently for her.  

‘He’ll be doing a fair bit more waiting…’ Claire thought as she softened her steps, ‘...until I can arrange things with Jeong-Suk.”

She was within arms reach.  Claire could have stuck the needle in right now, but she decided to savor the moment.  On the screen was Dumbledore, riding in a cart with some long-haired midget.  

‘What did people see in this crap?’

The dirty blonde leaned down and nuzzled his neck with her nose, enjoying his jump of surprise.  If only he knew how surprising things were about to get.  

“Are you ready for Lesson 1?” Claire purred into his ear.

He was breathing so heavily.  Tom nodded his head yes.

“Good…Lesson 1 is gonna be a game…a game between you and me.” Claire said soothingly as she rubbed the nape of his neck using her left hand.  

“..and the game is….” Claire raised her right hand and repositioned her right thumb over the plunger, ready to discharge.

“...Hide and seek.”

He didn’t jolt.  He didn’t yell…well, at least not at first.  He didn’t jerk.  Claire was far too quick and precise.  He just gasped.  The tip of the needle sank into his neck and the devious, grinning young woman quickly forced the plunger down, emptying the pale pink liquid into the teenage boy’s body.  After successfully injecting Tom, Claire expected all of her mental facilities to switch to hope…hoping that the process would work before he could respond.  Sure, Tom was frail and nerdy, but he towered over the 22-year old blonde. Claire was only 5’3” and 112 lbs!  It really wouldn’t have taken a lot for Tom to overpower her and it was certainly more probable that he could have gotten away if he just ran. 

Luck often favors the prepared, and luckily for Claire, neither of those things happened. Claire didn’t have to worry long about when the shrinking process would start, and she certainly wouldn’t have to worry about Tom’s capability of overpowering her.

Tom had barely enough time to turn his head and make eye contact with Claire before she watched his face disappear into the collar of his shirt.  His arms were sucked up into the sleeves so fast she heard a distinct whooshing sound.  The tight jeans covering his legs deflated quickly and his shoes thumped against Claire’s carpet.  

“Well…” Claire said with a chuckle as she set the syringe down on the end table.  She stopped the movie and circled the couch.  

“You seem like a pretty good hider, but I’ll bet I can find you.”

Claire carefully lifted his t-shirt and gently shook it over her empty coffee table. The shirt smelled way too strongly of cologne, and she tossed it to the corner of the living room.  Her short, nimble fingers sifted through the crumpled jeans, and then she felt it.  A tiny little lump no larger than a pen cap.  

“Found ya!” Claire shouted playfully, feeling the little pen cap wriggle and squirm as her fingertips navigated the denim, snaking through the cloth barrier’s twists and turns to find its prey.  Finally, the bare, sensitive skin of her fingertips contacted the miniscule teenager.  He was nice and warm.  She pinched him gently, his miniscule form no match for the strength of her digits and she raised him to her big blue eyes.  

“God, you are adorably pathetic.” Claire said, studying the small figure between her thick fingertips. She was swooning and bringing her nose close enough to graze the trembling naked boy’s body. The excited blonde leaned back and looked up toward the ceiling, ignoring Tom for a moment.  

“Or would it be pathetically adorable?” Claire pondered, rubbing her chin with her free hand.  

“Hmm…who cares?” She said dismissively. 

“Okay, so do you wanna know what's going on? …because I can hear you squeaking a whole bunch and I’m guessing you probably have a question or two.” she said with a smile and chuckle. 

Claire took out the pink 3-inch ruler from the pocket of her pajamas and held it up against the shrunken boy between her fingers.  She closed one eye and bit her lower lip, wanting to be as accurate as possible.  He measured in at 3/8ths of an inch.

“So here’s the deal. Contrary to how things seem right now, you’re actually a pretty BIG deal.” Claire said, laughing at her joke as she set him down on her wide, expansive palm and took a seat where he’d been sitting, but not before carelessly pushing his unworn clothing onto the floor. 

“You, my sweet little pioneer, have just become the very first person to shrink…and do you wanna know the best part?  …besides the fact that I’m the first person to ever shrink someone, of course!” Claire said, trying to conceal her excitement.  She didn’t wait for him to answer, let alone bring him close enough to her face to be heard clearly.

“The best part is…you’re not even close to being done!” Claire erupted jovially. “Nope!  You’re going to get SOOOO much smaller! You see, I couldn’t just bring you down to your final size right then and there; I’d never have been able to find you on my couch.  You would have probably fallen in between the cushions or maybe even blown away from the breeze of the ceiling fan, and then it’d be bye bye forever, you know?”  

Claire had said enough so far.  She wanted to know how little Tom was taking the news. She brought him up close to her face, carefully pushing her dirty blonde hair out of the way of her ear.  As her hand got closer to her ear, the sound of unresolvable squeaking started to take on some distinguishable syllables. 

“--do this to me?  Why?  I didn’t agree to this!” Tom squeaked.

“Good god, you sound like a little baby chipmunk…no, a little baby chipmunk who just inhaled a bunch of helium.” Claire said, giggling.

“Why did you do this?” Tom wailed.

Claire spoke out loud without lowering him from her ear.  “Umm, you told me that you wanted to get closer to Jeong-Suk.”

“How is this supposed to help?!” the scared boy asked.

“Well, it's not clear yet…I get it, and honestly I wouldn’t expect someone as small as you are to see the big picture, but don’t worry it will all make sense eventually.” Claire replied.

“Please grow me back! This is terrifying; I won’t tell anyone I promise! Just do what…”

The high-pitched voice slowly lost resolution as she lowered him from her ear and fixed her pretty, crystal blue eyes back on him.  

“Okay, so we really should hurry before I lose you. Let’s not waste any more time.”

Claire gently placed her free hand over top of the one holding Tom, encasing him in what must have looked like an enormous hollow sphere of fragrant flesh and bone.  She’d eaten half of a cinnamon muffin at the coffee shop so she figured her hand probably still smelled good.  She took a seat at her dining room table where the microscope was set up and placed him in an empty matchbox. 

“Okay, wait right here.  I’ll be back in a sec.” Claire said. 

She walked quickly.  Not because she was afraid of him getting away; there was no way the helpless little thing could climb over those giant matchbox walls. She walked quickly because she was beyond excited.  Entering her bedroom again, she grabbed the small pipette filled with that familiar pink liquid and squeezed it out into a small beaker.  Claire grabbed a small brown, sealed paper baggie from her nightstand.  It had an off-center white sticky-label affixed to it with a bunch of chinese writing on it.  She carefully ripped it open and inside were several dozen even smaller plastic baggies.  Each one seemed to contain several grains of sand. The one that Claire picked out had sharpie writing on the plastic side.  It simply read:

N198274

Claire opened the baggie and dumped its contents into the pale pink mixture, being very thorough about tapping the bottom of the baggie to make sure everything was out.  She used a glass stirrer to make sure everything was properly distributed before sucking the solution back up into the pipette. She took a deep breath and made her way back to the living room.  

He was right where she’d left him, he was waiting…standing but hunched over..naked and vulnerable, static and watching.  

Claire readied a clear microscope slide just small enough to fit in the matchbox next to Tom. 

“Okay, climb on up.”  Claire said, her eyes already down on her journal as she jotted down a few notes. She looked back down at him, expecting to see him on the slide but there he stood next to it…either paralyzed by fear or defiance.  It didn’t matter which; she’d handle either of them the same.

“Do you want to find out how durable you are at this size?” she said, leaning down, pursing her thick lips and blowing a short but powerful breath at him, knocking him to his feet.  

“My calculations say you’re pretty durable..but do you REALLY want to find out how much?”  She smiled and scrunched up her eyes as she said ‘REALLY’ and then her smile disappeared, and she swore the lights seemed to dim with her change in tone. 

“Climb.  The fuck.  Up.  On the slide..” Claire growled.  

Tom didn’t hesitate this time.  The barely-inch tall boy obediently got up on the center of the glass slide and stared up at her. 

Claire’s disposition softened.

“I get that you’re kinda freaking out now…I should probably explain a little bit about what's happening next.” Claire said nonchalantly.  

“...but I’m not gonna!” she chirped with a big mischievous grin.  “At least not right now, anyway…but don’t worry, it will all make sense soon!  I’ve got a vested interest in your understanding because…well…it's fun for me!”

“So…on to the schedule…” Claire grabbed her journal and leafed through several pages, tracing her index finger over her neat handwriting.  

“You’re gonna stay little like this for…hmmm...1 month.  Yeah…I think that's a good place to start since that’s right around when the chances for successful regrowth start to diminish.  Up until the 1st month, the chances of my regrowth methods being successful is practically 100%, but it starts to drop slowly after that.  By the end of the third month, it drops to a 96.5% chance of working and a 3.5% chance of you…well…I’m not exactly sure what happens, to be honest.  According to the math, there will be a 3.5% chance that your body will react to the regrowth by…like…hmm…what's the easiest way to explain it to you…it's like basically adapting to the process and becoming resistant to it, making you permanently little like you are now. Wouldn’t matter how many times I tried it, it would never,ever work.”

The blonde looked up at the ceiling and mumbled quietly and then returned her attention to the tiny and helpless Tom, “That’s not to say you couldn’t get smaller though…you could theoretically get smaller, I think…but definitely no bigger, that part I’m sure of.  Anyway…it gets even worse if we wait longer.  After another 3 months, the success chance drops to 82.16%.   After a year, the percentage shoots down to around 48%. If my math is correct, and it is, the probability function asymptotically approaches 0.  By the 2nd year…”

Claire picked up her phone and squinted at her phone screen.

“...you’d have around a 17.7% chance of the regrowth working. It keeps getting worse after that.  I would consider the shrinking to essentially be permanent at that point, or maybe a bit after that; it's hard to draw a line somewhere…but at that point it's really an argument of semantics.  Ya know…it’s that goofy area where physics gets so weird you have to bring philosophy into the picture.”

She pressed a few buttons on her phone screen and then turned it to face Tom. 

“Here, I even graphed it out so you can see what it looks like.  Cool, huh? The first vertical black line there is the 30-day mark when the percentage starts slowly dropping. The vertical purple line is the 90-day mark with a 96.51% success probability, so on and so forth, yada yada yada…”

Claire made another quick note in her journal before returning her focus to the terrified boy.  She raised the pipette up to the slide where Tom was standing, and he responded in the only way he felt he could: by cowering.

“So yeah…anyway…1 month: that’s my promise…my guarantee…so don’t worry! You’ll be in good hands.”

“…well..good boob, I guess.”, she said under her breath with a chuckle.

Claire promptly squeezed the contents of the small pipette, completely dousing little Tom in the pale pink liquid. He raised his hands stupidly as if he could protect himself from it, but it was already working its magic.  Claire squatted down, resting her chin on the backs of her hands and bringing her face level with little Tom as he got increasingly smaller.  Claire watched all of it with bright, optimistic blue eyes, waiting for the moment when he’d shrink beyond the physical resolve of her naked eye.  He was less than an 1/8th of an inch.  1/16th. Still going…still going.

“Come on, keep going! YES!” Claire said encouragingly, watching him dwindle away further and further.  She actually had to hold her hand over her mouth as she spoke lest the miniscule boy be blown away under the oppressive influence of her minty breath.  He indeed kept going.  He was barely the size of an ink dot now. 

“Uh oh…” Claire frowned, leaning in closer to look. 

She continued watching him…and that was the problem.  Seconds had passed.  And then finally a full minute…and she was still watching him.  

“What gives?  I can still see you!” Claire said, disappointment dripping from her voice.  

She had to put on her glasses and squint like hell, but she could still see the fuzzy looking dot in the center of the slide.  

“You’re supposed to be microscopic, you little goof!” the frustrated blonde exclaimed, stamping her sock clad foot.  She didn’t cover her mouth that time; consequently, fully under the influence of the hurricane that was Claire’s last breath escaping her lungs, little Tom flew–to him–what must have been hundreds of feet away from the glass slide and into the side of the matchbox.  

“You’re useless now…I can’t put you in like this...” Claire’s upper lip curled in disgust as she peered down at him, pulling out one of the table’s chairs and heavily sitting down.  

Was this her fault?  The trial and error process with the titration had consumed so much of her focus that she had not even considered that the catalyst might not yield a prosperous accelerant to the shrinking process.  No, it couldn’t have been her fault. Maybe it was him…yes!  He was the variable!  He was the problem.  Leave it to Tom to ruin everything.  She felt the urge to get back at him.  

She considered how she would get rid of him.  The thoughtful blonde pondered out loud, bouncing the ideas off her walls to see what sounded best. Sure, she could just throw him away in the garbage.  Claire could rinse out the matchbox in the sink and let him find his way down the garbage disposal.  That’d be super simple.  She could drop him outside on her front step and, in a fun way, give him a sporting chance…adopted by Mother Nature. A kiss for luck and he’d be on his way!  

There were some awfully noisy, awfully annoying sorority girls that lived above her.  Maybe Tom would stare up at the bottoms of their uggs as they obliviously stumble in from the bar later that night to fuck whatever collar-popping toolbag they brought home.  It didn’t matter how impervious he now was to pressure and compression, there was no way he’d be surviving the bottom of one of those bimbos’ boots..especially the chubby one! And that's all assuming the naked speck didn’t freeze to death on her front step first, which was definitely possible.  He was well suited for where he was going, but he definitely wasn’t immortal…he was, as she put it in her journal, ‘still fragile as fuck’. 

She rubbed her chin, staring down at him thoughtfully.  She could turn the matchbox upside-down over the toilet…that’d be really easy.  She could even use it first before flushing.  What would be even funnier would be going to the women’s room of the local university and dropping him into one of the public toilets and waving goodbye.  There really were a whole lot of options.  

Claire was very tempted to wash her hands of this and start over fresh…find some other hopelessly awkward boy to shrink, but this one was so close to being perfect.  And plus, who's to say that the solution would work again even this well?  What if the variability of the recipient in this case actually aided in the shrinking?  It's possible that it wouldn’t work at all on someone else…anything was possible, of course.  She needed the night to think about it…to think about what she would do with him.

Claire removed one of her pristine white socks and carefully fed the small matchbox into its mouth.  She positioned it all the way into the toe section and scrunched up the mouth so as to make sure he wouldn’t somehow escape, either accidentally or on purpose…it also served the valuable purpose of being extremely funny that he’d be surrounded by the smell of her foot for the whole night.

The blonde propped her bare foot atop her other socked foot on the couch and switched the input from the DVD player to YouTube.  Her feed recommended a physics video from Eugene Khutoryansky called “Fourier Transform, Fourier Series, and frequency spectrum”.  She excitedly hit play.  After its conclusion, Claire acted as if she were all alone, brushing her teeth and turning off the lights before going to bed.

The 22-year old blonde woke up fully rested and rejuvenated.  While still in her underwear, she tended to the running experiments in her bedroom.  It wasn’t a smart thing to do without PPE, but she was incredibly careful.  She’d really needed the time to think and reflect on her current experiment and she was glad she took it.  Grabbing an apple from her fruit dish, Claire sat down at her table. She smirked at the pristine white sock resting motionless atop her dining room table, its belly bulging rectangularly with the matchbox inside.  It was just as she’d left it over 7 hours ago.

The inside of the sock still felt slightly warm.  Claire wondered if the remnants of her foot’s bodyheat had remained there with Tom for the night.  He should consider himself lucky if it did!  Speaking of luck, she pulled the box out of her sock and held it up to her face, peering down playfully at little Tom, curled up in a ball staring up.  

“Good news.  I’ve decided that even though you’re way bigger than I planned on making you, I’m still gonna go forward with the experiment. Congratulations, I’m not getting rid of you!”  

Claire set Tom’s box down next to an incredibly small glass enclosure.  It was only slightly larger than Tom,and next to it was a small eyedropper atop a napkin.  It was filled with the same pale pink liquid.  It didn’t take much to fill the small glass enclosure…maybe 2 to 3 drops.  

“Some more good news…you can breathe underwater now.  That's gonna come in handy over the next few days while you’re waiting as I finish setting everything up. And it’ll definitely come in handy over the next month!”

Claire unceremoniously dumped Tom into the tiny glass enclosure and capped it, leaving him completely submerged in the pale pink liquid.  She held it close to her face to look at him and burst out laughing, tapping gently on the glass.  

“Hey, fishy!  Hang tight for a while in there, okay?”

~

“Yes…yes…uh-huh…of course we will! Yes…yes, I’ll tell you all about it when I get home!” Jeong-Suk said quietly into her phone, nearly whispering to her dormitory roommate as she trailed behind Claire. 

Jeong-Suk looked up to American girls.  She didn’t know everything there was to know about them, but she was fairly certain the cool ones wouldn’t be calling their roommates to excitedly brag about hanging out.  American girls were cool as cucumbers and didn’t care what other people thought!   

American girls were rebels! They were tall! They were beautiful!  American girls drove shiny, fast cars and had beautiful, long blonde hair! They wore flashy skirts and nylons and took what they wanted when they wanted it!  Sometimes they smoked and sometimes they drank, but they ALWAYS had fun! There was even an American song about it!  

Jeong-Suk had only qualified for and joined the State Chess Club a few weeks ago, and there weren’t too many girls there like the American girls she expected to see. But then she met Claire.  

Claire wasn’t tall like all American girls supposedly were; she was several inches shorter than Jeong-Suk.  She also didn’t have very large breasts…they were actually almost as small as her own.  What Claire lacked in height and “thickness” as Jeong-Suk heard it described, the 22-year old girl made up for with a level of confidence elevated her slightly above average looks and made her practically unapproachable.  Jeong-Suk saw the way the boys all looked at Claire, how they’d try to start conversations with her and get her to practice with them. Claire had no problems telling them to buzz off, although she used different words than Jeong-Suk would have used!  Jeong-Suk could barely bring herself to make eye contact with the boys in the club, let alone start up a conversation with one. None of them seemed too interested in her either…except for one named Tom but he would always get weird and uncomfortable when she tried talking to him. 

Jeong-Suk immediately felt intimidated by Claire, due in part because of her confidence, her blonde hair, and her shiny car…but also her intelligence and her aptitude in chess.  In the short time she’d been a part of the club, Jeong-Suk watched Claire’s victims stack.  In fact, the only time she’d ever seen Claire lose a game was once against that boy Tom.  Claire was a really sore loser and wouldn’t even shake his hand!  He’d even told Jeong-Suk afterward that Claire called him a bad name as she walked away!  As mean as it was, it strangely made her think Claire was even more cool. Jeong-Suk desperately wanted to be accepted by her.

Jeong-Suk had somehow stumbled her way into a conversation with Claire a day or two ago, the blonde uncharacteristically interested in the quiet, shy exchange student.  Claire had complimented Jeong-Suk on her skirt. Jeong-Suk reciprocated, complimenting Claire on the thin golden necklace around her neck.  The American girl got a big smile and reached into her neckline, pulling out the tiny jewel clasped at the end.

“The golden necklace is nothing compared to this.” Claire said, extending the gem out, suggesting Jeong-Suk take a closer look.  

The tiny, pink gem rolled slightly into the center of Jeong-Suk’s palm, but only slightly as it was anchored sternly to the thin golden chain and ultimately to the blonde American girl’s neck.

“It’s beautiful.  Was it your mother’s?” Jeong-Suk asked. The American girl laughed. 

“No, no…my mom never had anything like this.” Claire replied.

The gem was very warm, probably from being tucked between the American girl’s breasts all day.  Jeong-Suk rubbed the gem between her thumb and index finger, trying to remove a tiny smudge she spotted atop its surface.  Jeong-Suk continued to rub but the smudge wasn’t going away.  She leaned in closer to look, realizing that the smudge wasn’t a smudge at all.  What she thought was a smudge was actually something inside the gem.  Jeong-Suk squinted her eyes trying to see what the tiny little lump in the gem could be, but the gem abruptly flew out of the exchange student’s palm.  Claire was now stuffing it back down her shirt.  

“If you think that little necklace thing is cool, you should check out this little experiment I’m doing.”

A few days and several conversations later, Jeong-Suk was briskly walking to keep up with the American girl heading for her American car. The Korean exchange student was 7 inches taller than Claire with much larger, thicker legs and yet Jeong-Suk was huffing and puffing, trying to keep up.  

Jeong-Suk was relieved to have finally made it to Claire’s car.  She gently opened the passenger door and carefully sat down.  Claire, on the other hand, collapsed into her seat and shuffled quite a bit, getting comfortable.  Jeong-Suk’s eyes caught Claire’s necklace pop up out of her shirt.  Claire was quick to mindlessly send it back down the front of her shirt before putting her car in gear.  The ride was mostly quiet. Jeong-Suk had attempted to start a dialogue here and there, but Claire didn’t respond in ways that would continue the conversation. 

The blonde American was far less talkative now than when she’d convince Jeong-Suk to help her with her experiment. The American girl had played with the small stone between her fingers while she spoke, saying that the experiment had to do with injecting a small amount of sugar water into breast tissue.  It seemed VERY weird to Jeong-Suk, but hey…Claire was a very smart girl and she was actually talking to Jeong-Suk!  She actually needed her help with something!  After Jeong-Suk agreed, Claire surprisingly hugged the surprised Korean exchange student. For a moment, Jeong-Suk felt the gem press against her own chest.

It felt a little reckless and she was sure her parents wouldn’t approve.  Her roommate was also from South Korea and understood how strict parents are in the east so Jeong-Suk was sure the secret would be safe.  If her parents called the dorm room looking for her, Jeong-Suk’s roommate would say that she was at a study session and forgot to bring her phone.  

Jeong-Suk watched a few American programs back home, and in all the programs she watched, the characters lived in the suburbs.  They had wide driveways and a front yard of green grass that emitted sprinklers in the summer.  It wasn’t all that much different from what Jeong-Suk was used to at home, but of course everything in America was just a little bit bigger. Claire, however, lived in the city and things were quite different there.  Everything was far more compact, busier, noisier, and there was much more concrete.  Once the two women were inside the dark apartment, Claire pulled her phone from her back pocket and tapped a button. The living room and dining room lights turned on.  Claire’s apartment was relatively small and a little bit messy but it smelled like the holidays, which Jeong-Suk enjoyed.

“You can have a seat over at the dining room table, I’ll be right back with the stuff.” Claire said, walking toward the other end of the apartment.  The blonde opened a door, probably to her bedroom.  Unlike the light of the living room and dining room, the light that bathed the blonde from the other side of the door was a very warm, very yellow light.  She quickly shut the door behind her.

Jeong-Suk was a little nervous, realizing now she was at the point in their plans where she would have to help Claire with her experiment.  It wasn’t that she minded needles. Sure, nobody liked them but she was alright with the temporary pain if it was something she needed to do.  But did she need to do this?  Well, Claire had made it clear that their future friendship was contingent on it.  Jeong-Suk nervously sat down at the dining room table, which was in a state of disarray.  She saw a few empty cardboard boxes that once contained microwave dinners, some stationery items, a white sock with a matchbook on top of it, and a half-empty bottle of wine.  There was also a microscope.  

“Okay, we ready?”

Jeong-Suk jumped a bit, not realizing Claire had come into the dining room.  She took a seat next to the Korean exchange student, holding a syringe, a clear rubber cap stuck onto the end of the needle.  

“Umm…yes, I think so.” Jeong-Suk said timidly, unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of her cute, white blouse.  “Is it going to hurt?”

“Oh, no of course not. Like I said before, it's basically just sugar water!” Claire said.

‘...Basically…?’ Jeong-Suk thought. ‘She didn’t say “basically” last time..’

“You’re gonna have to take that off though.” Claire said, gesturing toward the white blouse.  

“Oh….” Jeong-Suk said, her heart skipping a beat.  “Can’t I just pull it over like this?”  Jeong-Suk’s fingers lightly tugged at her collar, exposing a creamy white chest. A bright red, thin bra strap said hello to the dining room, along with the top of her left breast.  She tilted her head, slightly confused as a seemingly pre-occupied Claire was holding up the syringe, subtly angling its small, pale-pink chamber to face Jeong-Suk’s exposed chest.  

“Sorry, no.  The injection has to go pretty close to your nipple.  You gotta take the whole shirt off…and your bra too.”

Poor Jeong-Suk blushed profusely and her mind was racing.  She was always self-conscious about her small breasts.  Claire’s weren't all that big either, so she wasn’t particularly nervous about that part, but Jeong-Suk bet that the cute American girl probably didn’t also have huge areolas.  Jeong-Suk’s areolas probably would have looked normal on a girl with D-cup or maybe even C-cup breasts, but alas her breasts were much smaller than that and so the areola area took up more of her breast than she’d have liked: nearly half.  

It was one of her big hangups.  And not only was the diameter of her areolas nearly taking up half her breast, but her nipples were HUGE.  They were very wide almost all the time and when it got cold outside or she thought about boys when she was alone in her bedroom, they would stiffen up and grow.  She’d never measured them because it would make her even more self conscious to know the true length, but they had to be at least an inch long.

A pretty face? Yes, Jeong-Suk knew she had that going for her…a desirable, slightly tall but petite figure? Sure, boys liked that…Korean boys, anyway… All of that was fine, but she’d seen the magazines that boys would go into the woods to look at as children, and she’d seen the websites they go to as teenagers…none of them ever looked at girls with breasts like hers. She hated her breasts.  She didn’t want anyone to touch them or even look at them. It prevented her from approaching some of the cute boys she’d seen at the chess club.  Tom had even spoken to her after his match against Claire, and instead of talking to him, she just blushed stupidly and left after only a few words.  It was a wonder she managed to even lose her virginity back in South Korea last year.  Even for that situation she managed to keep her tiny bra on.  If she’d have known that she’d have to be topless in front of Claire right now, she never would have come.

Jeong-Suk hesitantly unbuttoned the third button, then the fourth, and then the last.  Her fingers shook as the thin garment fell into her lap and then she unclasped her bra.  Why was she doing this?  Claire was just staring now!  And why was she turning the syringe in her fingers like that, angling the side of it in different ways?  The small, red bra was never under all that much stress so it simply unsnapped with no extra tug.  To Claire’s credit, she didn’t say anything about Jeong-Suk’s huge nipples or saucer-sized areolas, but she definitely stared at them, causing the embarrassed Korean to cover her small breasts with her forearms.  

“It's okay, we can just get this over with.” Claire said with a smile, leaning in to press Jeong-Suk’s arms down to her sides, revealing the embarrassed girl’s bare chest.  The Korean was completely topless, small breasts and huge nipples bared to the smiling American.  A gasp escaped the nervous girl’s lips.  

“You…have to…touch them?” Jeong-Suk asked incredulously. 

“Well yeah, I have to make sure the breast tissue is nice and relaxed.” Claire said in a tone almost challenging Jeong-Suk’s intelligence.  It worked.  Jeong-Suk tried to focus on something else as Claire’s small fingers easily took her left B-cup breast into her grasp.

‘That’s weird…’ Jeong-Suk thought, shivers and goosebumps waving through her body, ‘...Claire wasn’t wearing her necklace anymore.  The blonde girl’s neck was completely bare.  Did she take it off since they’d gotten here?’

“Its time…” Claire announced, although it strangely looked almost as if the announcement was directed more toward the syringe than to Jeong-Suk. Regardless, Jeong-Suk nodded her head.  Claire smiled, breaking eye contact with the syringe and focusing her pretty ocean-blue eyes on Jeong-Suk’s tiny breast. After gently rubbing the intended injection point with a sanitary wipe, both girls watched intently as the tip of the syringe kissed the Korean’s tit.  The needle tip sank in directly underneath the nipple, within the expansive area of her areola…and it kept going deeper.  Jeong-Suk sighed uncomfortably.  It wasn’t necessarily all that painful, but it was psychologically uncomfortable to watch the stem of the syringe plunge so deep into her body.  Finally, it was as deep as Claire needed it to be, and Jeong-Suk watched the American girl’s thumb hook onto the plunger and slowly start pressing.   

The pressure forced the blood from the tip of Claire’s thumb, creating an eye-catching contrast between her jet-black fingernails and the now white-from-pressure thumb tip.  Four eyes, a set of pretty blue and a set of innocent brown, watched the pale pink liquid bullied toward the end of the chamber into the dark areola bullseye of the creamy-white Korean breast.  There was nowhere else for it to go but deep into Jeong-Suk’s breast tissue through the underside of her large nipple.  Claire’s other hand came in and started squeezing the underside of Jeong-Suk’s breast.  

The Korean girl shivered; she could feel the cold liquid deep inside of her as it oozed out of the needle. It very quickly warmed to match the temperature of her body, but not before Claire’s gentle squeezing and kneading urged the fluid to disperse throughout the fatty tissue.  Claire pulled the syringe stem out.  Maybe it was because the experience was almost over, but Jeong-Suk could almost feel her reaction to Claire’s kneading of her breast change.  Initially, it made her feel very uncomfortable and self-conscious, but now she was appreciating the American girl’s soft fingers and velvet palm…it almost made Jeong-Suk feel….attractive. The feeling lasted for a few fleeting moments, but when they passed, the feeling of self-consciousness did not return.

The chamber that had once been filled with a pale pink liquid was now completely empty.  It was all inside her breast now.  The American girl looked inside of the syringe very closely for a few moments; Jeong-Suk couldn’t have imagined what she was looking for, but after a few seconds, the blonde must have been satisfied because she looked up with a huge smile. 

“All done, Jeong-Suk.  You can put your clothes back on now.” Claire wiped the now empty syringe off and set it on a tray next to the microscope.  Jeong-Suk thought the two might hang out for a while, perhaps go to a restaurant or watch a movie, but Claire was apparently very busy. She played around on her phone for a few minutes, at one point bringing it closer to Jeong-Suk’s chest but never saying anything about it. After that, she offered Jeong-Suk a microwave dinner while she wrote a few pages in a notebook.  Almost immediately after finally closing her notebook, Claire was nice enough to give Jeong-Suk a ride home.

In the car, Jeong-Suk could feel a strange tingle deep within her left breast.  It had been there from the moment Claire emptied the contents of the syringe into her, and it was still just as prevalent as ever.  Strangely enough, it didn’t feel uncomfortable as one might expect a tingle or tickle in breast tissue might feel.  No, it felt…kinda nice.  Kind of like the feeling you get the moment you scratch a persistent itch.  It felt new.  She couldn’t explain how or why, but it felt…exciting.

“So, we’ll have to get back together in a month so I can check the progress and see if anything’s changed.” Claire said over the gentle sound of the soft rock radio station.

“Of course, we can also get together before then too…if you want.” Jeong-Suk said timidly. 

“Maybe.” Claire said, turning the radio up slightly. 

Jeong-Suk took another quick look at Claire’s neck. The necklace was nowhere to be found.

~

Chapter 3 - Along for the Ride [Tom]

It was morning…or was it night?  It felt like morning to Tom since he’d just woken up.  But had he just woken up? Or had he been awake all along.  The passage of time was incredibly confusing and difficult to interpret correctly.  Frames of reference were far and few between, and when Jeong-Suk’s body was at rest, there were usually none.  When she walked, the gentle bouncing of her tits was enough to jostle and jiggle the lattice of large, soft fat cells that surrounded him, each nearly as tall as he was and carrying much more mass. 

For hours, he’d struggled to escape the full-body embrace of each of the fat cells in Jeong-Suk’s left tit, each warm sphere fighting for his attention and touch.  Hours of struggling, exhausting his body to shift far enough away from one cluster, resulted only in being handed off directly to another.  And beyond that cluster of 4 to 5 cells contacting his naked body, another 4 to 5 waited patiently…and beyond that another…and another.  

There was no escaping the full contact of the slick, slippery surface of the gelatinous, amorphous masses of fatty breast tissue.  Tom had been disappointed the first time he’d seen Jeong-Suk remove her hoodie…he thought it a shame that such a pretty face would be cursed with such small boobs, but now that the jiggling of his environment was directly proportional to the size of her tits, Tom was thanking god that Jeong-Suk’s tits were so small.  He figured it must have been a million times worse to be in a big, fat tit.  

Still, it felt strange to just sit there immersed in the cushiony soft fat…as if he were giving up.  And plus, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but it felt as if the lattice structure was discretely…quietly…covertly trying to pull him in deeper..micrometer by micrometer..like an intelligent, impossibly patient quicksand.  His instincts had not evolved to self-preserve against fatty breast tissue, but it identified the threat all the same, and his instinct responded with the occasional floundering and struggling.  

And this was all just when Jeong-Suk was motionless…probably sleeping.  He heard the incredibly muffled sound of an alarm clock sounding. It was the third time he’d heard it now so he surmised this was his third day in Jeong-Suk’s left breast.  He wished there was a way he could keep track of the days…there were no walls upon which he could etch tallies.  He tried doing so on one of the fat cells after the first day but it took substantial effort to tear the membrane.  Even more frustratingly, the cell repaired itself moments later, erasing at least an hour of Tom’s hard work. He’d have to try and keep track mentally.  

‘27 more days to go…’ Tom thought miserably. Before he’d heard the alarm clock for the first time, he didn’t even know what he was going to do to that bitch Claire.  He’d probably start with making her the first girl he’d ever punched in the nose.  How would that sound for firsts? Then he’d almost certainly press charges. What would they call the charges? The hell if he knew, but maybe she’d even see the inside of a jail cell.

By the second coming of the alarm clock, he was even more furious.  She really was just going to let him sit here in Jeong-Suk’s tit.  

Hearing the alarm clock for the third time reminded him once again of just how hungry he was.  He hadn’t eaten since right before going over to Claire’s house.  Had he known that he’d be trapped in a South Korean girl’s boob flesh, he might have had more than a handful of pretzels and a half-can of Dr. Pepper. 

The girl’s calm heartbeat, which resounded with a regular, constant, profound bass through Tom’s tiny body, was now starting to increase in tempo.  He could hear the sound of skin against cotton as she was getting out of bed.  She was starting her day…well…starting both of their days, whether he was ready or not.  He could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra yet, his surroundings bouncing and jiggling slightly more than he was used to, and then he could tell when the small breasts were properly cradled in their respective cups, just as he was now cradled properly in the condensed and compressed lattice structure of fatty breast tissue.  

Luckily, it looked like Jeong-Suk was skipping the shower for today.  She’d gotten one on Morning #1 and Morning #2, and both experiences were pretty miserable for Tom.  He must have been jostled and jiggled closer to the surface of her skin. By his guess, he was directly at the peak of her breast, near the injection point under her nipple because the heat coming in from the hot water was oppressive and painful.  

The sound of the water hitting her skin, the shower curtain, and the porcelain felt like it was splitting his ear drums. With the donning of her small B-cup bra, Tom knew he wouldn’t have to try and burrow deeper into her breast tissue where it was safe…where her body temperature was higher but the outside world’s influence was less severe.  

Jeong-Suk’s heart was beating like crazy now, surrounding the poor boy in its deafening echo.  Her small breasts were also far more mobile than normal.  He heard a feminine but deep, bassy voice saying something…it sounded like “Wait!”.  He knew it was Jeong-Suk’s voice.  As high-pitched and feminine as it was, it still was nearly too bassy for his tiny system to resolve and understand.  He still appreciated whenever she spoke, even if it wasn’t directed toward him…it reminded him which way was up and that he wasn’t alone…not technically anyway.

It was a challenge to try and understand what it was she was doing based on his limited sensory input.  Usually, his indicators came in the form of several factors.  These included temperature, the jiggling of the fat cells that cradled him, her heartbeat, the muffled external audio, and the nearly trace amounts of light that somehow would permeate the skin of her breast.  One…interesting event happened on his second night in Jeong-Suk’s tit. He heard the muffled sound of bed springs creaking, letting him know the busy Korean exchange student had finished another hard day of school and was getting into bed.  It was surreal, knowing that he technically shared a bed with his crush…but it was also torturous to know that he couldn’t tell her…he couldn’t interact with her.  The best thing he could do was flail and flounder; he noticed that sometimes it would almost appear as if he could elicit a response from her.  Maybe that was why the psycho bitch didn’t want to inject him at this “big” size.  

Tom shifted in the lattice, and his entire face was smooshed directly into one of the soft fat cells.  He struggled against the mass of amber orbs, trying to adjust his body and allow his face even a millimeter of reprieve…a millimeter to him, anyway.  The struggling must have awoken something in Jeong-Suk because Tom heard a low, muffled moan from the heavens.  Millions of miles in the other direction, he heard a rustling of skin against fabric, and then skin against skin, and then wet skin against wet skin.  

“No fucking way” Tom said out loud, the resounding drum that he could not escape was louder and faster now.  

Tom felt himself stiffening and was aching to fuck Jeong-Suk.  He lamented not making a move earlier; the girl was so shy and nervous she literally would not even speak to any of the other guys.  He had his chance, and now here he was, pitifully thrusting his throbbing hard cock into one of Jeong-Suk’s millions of soft, amorphous fat cells.  

His surroundings were heating up as Jeong-Suk was clearly picking up the pace, which created a feedback loop of a trance-like, ever-crescendoing climb of pleasure and bliss.  He was so close now, thrusting hard into the fat cell.  The force of his pelvis was only enough to send slight ripples up through the membrane which reverberated against her neighbors and against his bare skin. 

Every time he retracted his pelvis, he felt his butt press firmly against the fat cell behind him and almost bounce him forward.  His surroundings were getting less and less hospitable, the flesh of the Korean girl’s breasts now clearly bouncing as he felt himself being pulled deeper.  Now each thrust of Tom’s hips found a new fat cell as he continued his involuntary journey deeper. He couldn’t control himself anymore, he licked and slobbered over the spherical, pillowy cell as if it were a lover.  

Once Jeong-Suk gasped and whimpered quietly, he couldn’t control it any longer.  Tom squeezed his eyes shut, tensed up his whole body, and exploded..still weakly pumping his tiny, naked hips into the one fat cell.  The one fat cell among millions. Even before he lost consciousness, he could hear the sound of Jeong-Suk's laptop powering up and keys clacking, and his spent seed had long since been completely dissolved into the breast he called home.  Even with the post-orgasm clarity, he started thinking that this wasn’t the worst arrangement in the world.  That was Night 2.

His third day in Jeong-Suk’s left breast was sizing up to be very different from the previous ones.  Usually, he’d hear only Jeong-Suk’s voice, usually in English he thought but sometimes in Korean, which he didn’t understand at all. Either way, it was her voice or he’d faintly hear another girl’s voice, probably one of the girls she’d study with or maybe her roommate. Tom heard something very different today: he heard a man’s voice.  

He could tell immediately from the tone that this was not some teacher giving a lecture or some grocery store cashier tendering a purchase. Next, Tom heard that same bed-creaking sound that he’d heard the night before only this time it was much more intense, and the sound of two sets of laughter echoed from the outside world to which he’d once belonged: one hers and one was a man’s.  

He didn’t recognize it but it was unmistakable, and to further confirm his suspicions and humiliate him further, he heard the equally unmistakable sound of wet lips smacking above him. Jeong-Suk was making out with this guy!  Jeong-Suk!  Miss ‘I’ll just sit in the corner by myself and work on my math homework’!  Miss ‘I never wear shirts with a neckline lower than my collar bone or skirts higher than my knees’!  

Tom’s heart was broken and his blood was boiling.  This guy was getting what Tom wanted!  What he deserved!  He was making out with Tom’s sweetheart crush and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.  He tried fidgeting and fighting to get her attention but it only seemed to make things worse. He heard the guy moan and say something to Jeong-Suk.  Something to the effect of “Grab it tighter”.  

Tom wanted to cry; it was as if he was being cuckolded.  Then, his entire world started shaking and jiggling, and he felt the lattice structure around him deform and sink in unnatural ways that had only happened when Jeong-Suk would shower and wash her breasts.  This guy was groping her!  He was squeezing her tits and by extension, squeezing Tom!  The nearly microscopic 19-year old boy could feel tears forming in his eyes, he just wanted to get away from this.  He wanted to get away from here.  He wanted to get out of their bed.  He wanted to get out of her room.  He wanted to get out of her tit.  Unfortunately for Tom, the manhandling of Jeong-Suk’s tiny tit deformed and compressed his surroundings in such a way that he could actually feel himself moving away from the center of her tit. 

He heard jeans unzipping.  He felt rustling.  He could literally feel the reverberations through the fat cells as the guy’s lips sucked at Jeong-Suk’s small tit.  He understood exactly what was happening, and when he heard Jeong-Suk moan, he knew she was getting fucked.  The guy was rough with her, and she seemed to like it.  It was hard to pinpoint what hurt Tom the most in these moments, but something significant was his fantasy that Jeong-Suk was a sweet, kind girl who wanted affection and gentle, tender love.  He fantasized about being gentle with her, making love to her as if it were a romcom. Instead, she was getting properly fucked and she seemed to LOVE It.Her small breasts were squeezed strongly in his hands and now the tiny spheres were bouncing uncontrollably as she was railed, and the bouncing of her tits now sent Tom deeper into the fleshy abyss. The sound was more muffled but unmistakable.  He felt compression again as a weaker grip surrounded his fatty home and squeezed.  

It was Jeong-Suk playing with her breast, squeezing the flesh and kneading it, urging him closer to the surface as if she subconsciously wanted him to play.  He recognized the light level of where he was now, it was very similar to his entrance into her tit when he was injected.  He was right below her nipple..so, so close to the surface.  There almost seemed to be a correlation with his location relative to her nipple and how fast her heart was pounding.  She was getting more and more turned on.

An hour later, he was still there.  They must have been cuddling or something because Tom could still hear the guy’s stupid voice and Jeong-Suk’s stupid giggling.  He had fucked her brains out and Tom could tell she loved every second of it.  Unknown to the giants, he was crying now, face buried in one of Jeong-Suk’s immense fat cells.  As the lucky guy cuddled with Tom’s crush, Tom cuddled with just one of her fat cells. He was so far beyond anger now.  So far beyond it that he wasn’t even angry anymore.  Tom had somehow looped past it and into some new weird territory.  He was desperate.  He was frantic.  He would have given anything to get out of this.  He promised himself that he wouldn’t be angry with Claire when she removed him. He wouldn’t try to press charges. He wouldn’t hit her.  Tom decided he would just be so happy to have his life back that he would completely move on.  He would forgive Claire…and he would never speak to Jeong-Suk again.  Things were just far too painful now.  He felt somebody rubbing Jeong-Suk’s nipple and heard her moan…and the Korean girl’s heart started racing again.

‘Oh no…’ Tom thought. He heard the bed frame squeaking again.  Tom burrowed deeper, albeit inefficiently, into Jeong-Suk’s breast, trying desperately to escape the passionate moaning and rhythmic, rocking waves of flesh. They were starting Round 2. Tom wished he could knock himself out…that he could end this terrible, terrible third day.  Claire was the only other person in the world who knew he was here…the only girl who would be able to save him.  He resented and hated her, and yet he caught himself praying to her as if she were a goddess.

“Starting tomorrow….26 more to go..”

~

Claire sat at the top row of the lecture hall, tuning out the Chess Club instructor Mr. Kendal as he rambled on about the London Opening. The seat next to hers was suspiciously empty, and she didn’t expect the person who should be filling it to be late, but she was.  A full ten minutes after the lecture had started, all eyes turned toward the sound of the heavy wooden door at the front of the lecture hall abruptly opening.  

“No shit…” Claire said in disbelief, under her breath.  

“So good of you two to join us…” Mr. Kendal said sarcastically to the boy and girl.  They were still shaking off laughter that had clearly been much more intense before they’d come through the door.  Mr. Kendal switched gears from sarcastic to serious, seeing that his sardonic tone was not quite enough to shame the rebels.  

“You’ve missed 10 minutes of the London, take your seats.” Mr. Kendal said, frowning.

“Oh, good; and I was afraid we might’ve missed something important.” the girl said to the boy as they tried to find seats.  

Everyone in the crowd was now laughing at the Korean exchange student’s statement, but Claire was unsure of whether it was meant as a joke or not.

“Jeong-Suk! I don’t know what's gotten into you!”  Mr. Kendal exclaimed.

Jeong-Suk started to sit next to the handsome blonde boy she’d come in with. 

“No no no, I think Brandon can sit by himself for today.”  Mr. Kendal’s eyes looked around and then locked with Claire.  “There’s an empty seat there in the back next to Miss Laurier.” Mr. Kendal said.

Jeong-Suk reluctantly complied with Mr. Kendal’s instruction and climbed the stairs to take a seat next to Claire, stealing one last obvious peek over her shoulder toward Brandon.  Claire was quite taken aback.  The shy Korean girl usually wore thick sweaters and long skirts but today she wore a dark green spaghetti-strap shirt and some faded blue jeans.  

“Yo, what’s the deal?” Claire hissed in bewilderment as Mr. Kendal resumed his boring London lecture.

Jeong-Suk smiled, looking down at her own wardrobe. She whispered, “Brandon’s sister had some extra clothes she was trying to get rid of and she wanted to play dress up!”  Claire’s eyes almost widened when the Korean girl's small hands rose to her chest, lightly cupping her breasts and calling attention to them.  “Brenda’s got little ones like me so it fits perfectly, and I actually think they look sexy like this.”

Jeong-Suk gave her tiny breasts a small squeeze and then lowered her hands to her notebook, pulling out a gel pen to start taking notes.  Claire was still staring, trying to be discreet.  Jeong-Suk’s big nipples were now rock hard, working hard to penetrate the cotton barrier before them.  She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra!  Claire smirked, staring at Jeong-Suk’s left breast…as tiny as it was, it was still a huge amount of tit for something as small and insignificant as little Tom.  She couldn’t help but wonder where in all that flesh Tom’s nude little body was.

And then it hit her.  Jeong-Suk’s flirty behavior with Brandon, her sexy clothes, being bad during class…those rock hard, comically long nipples…this was because of Tom!  It had to be!  It must have had something to do with the little squirt’s position in her fatty tissue…probably his movement or maybe the way her body’s chemistry was interacting with his.  There’s no way she just all of the sudden developed this confidence…this style sense…the boy on her arm. It was all because of the boy in her boob!  

The rest of the class wrote notes and listened to the dusty Mr. Kendal talk about the Queen’s Indian Defense.  She already knew it and it sucked against the London Opening, which also sucked.  Surely he’d talk about Benoni next.  Ugh……what a waste of time, these mandatory lectures were!

Claire’s time was far better spent scribbling notes in her precious lab journal, making predictions and deductions about the unaware vessel sitting right next to her, carrying around with her everywhere she went, their tiny male peer completely without her knowledge.  She expected changes in Tom and sure, there might have been some effect on Jeong-Suk, but this was way more than she’d ever dreamed…and after only 4 days!  She needed to get in front of her computer to run some calculations. She needed to do more testing, and there was one other thing.  A month would be way too long to wait.  She needed a way to communicate with Tom from inside Jeong-Suk’s tit.

Next week, Claire was back in the same place, walking into the chess lecture.  Jeong-Suk was already seated towards the back of the lecture hall, about 6 rows from the front row.  She expected to see Brandon sitting up there with her, but she spotted him down in the front row.  The handsome, tall, surfer-dude was looking over his shoulder up at Jeong-Suk with a cute, pouty sad face.  Was it…did Jeong-Suk cut HIM loose?!  

Claire’s suspicions were confirmed by two things: Brandon’s dumb friends patting him on the shoulders and comforting him, and Jeong-Suk being “comforted” by a different, hotter guy!  What the hell was this?  

Luckily, there was an empty seat left directly behind Jeong-Suk so Claire made her way over.  She walked up the steps and locked eyes with Jeong-Suk for a moment.  Jeong-Suk didn’t even say hi!  She just looked at Claire and then returned her attention to the guy doting over her.  Claire sat down, setting her notebook and other items down, pulling her cell phone out and putting her airpods in.  She swiped on her phone screen, bringing her to the homescreen.  She looked up at the sound of lips smacking and saw that the Korean exchange student was making out with the hot guy.  Claire had a confusing mixture of disgust, fascination, and pride.  She returned to her phone screen.

She selected an app icon that she herself had designed.  It was pale pink to match the solution that brought Tom to his current size and location with a dark pink silhouette of a syringe.  She clicked the icon and the interface switched from user-friendly to something that resembled command prompt on windows.  She only had time to work on its functionality…an interface would come later…much later.  Her fingers danced over the pixelated keyboard.

Fuck…she couldn’t connect to the device inside Jeong-Suk’s tiny tit.  She thought she wouldn’t have to be as close due to Tom’s stupid, bigger size. Claire leaned in, bringing her phone closer to Jeong-Suk’s back and ran the function again

Claire smiled ear to ear.  She had him.  First she’d check his vitals just to make sure he was actually still alive.

His heart rate was only slightly elevated.  That was good…it meant that he at least wasn’t always freaking out over being in Jeong-Suk’s boob.  Maybe he was even getting used to it.  The compression index was high; she didn’t expect anything different, although the compression of fat cells does get higher the deeper in toward the breast so Claire deduced he was somewhat deep in Jeong-Suk’s breast at the moment.  Stress index..sounds about right.  Nutrition index.

‘Hmm…..dangerous…’ she thought to herself.  ‘Did I not tell him what he had to eat?’

It's possible that it slipped her mind. Sure, he probably wouldn’t be excited about his new temporary diet, but it's not like she could send him in there with a slice of pizza and a hamburger for heaven’s sake!  She’d done a lot of work to make it so that he could live off his surroundings, and she had to chuckle a bit at the irony of having almost done all that work for nothing…only for him to starve because he didn’t know what to do. Imagine dying of thirst in a lake of fresh spring water! She’d have to make it clear to him what he needed to do.  Anyway, continuing with the vitals.  Lastly, the temperature was about average…probably felt really hot for him but clearly he was doing alright.  

“Time to make first contact…” Claire said to herself.

Claire’s lips were touching the microphone of her phone.  

“Hi, Tom.”

Claire quickly returned to her phone screen.  She knew the message would be broadcast by the Nanocon immediately and she wanted to see his biological response.

Claire actually had to laugh into her sleeve.  She couldn’t have imagined what it sounded like to him.  The Nanocon had broadcasted Claire’s message from several different angles and it was probably way more clear than the voices he was used to hearing.  All it took was 2 words and look how worked up he was getting!  She gathered her composure and started typing on her screen again.

Claire had instructed the Nanocon to broadcast a message to Tom.  She knew exactly what he was hearing because she’d previously dug through the source code to hear the .mp3 files stored locally on the Nanocon.  They were all recordings of a woman’s voice.  She sounded young and bubbly, and she had an incredibly thick Japanese accent.  The Nanocon manufacturers probably just gave her a script and dropped it into google translate or something because not all of it made sense. This particular .mp3 though, Claire was sure Tom would understand.  It instructed him to record a 15-second message to be sent through to the Nanocon and to its owner.  The bubbly Japanese woman probably sounded like a Goddess to him.  What a funny thought.

While she waited, she decided to check his vitals again.

Claire laughed under her breath again, “Poor, poor little Tom’s getting all worked up.” Claire noticed Jeong-Suk shifting in her seat, running a hand up to her scalp and gently rubbing her hair.

Claire patiently waited and after about 20 seconds.

There wasn’t a lot of space on the Nanocons so Claire had to set them up to forward anything other than small text readouts to her email address.  She opened her email and sure enough, right there at the top, was a new email from the Nanocon device with an attached mp3.  She opened it up and listened. 

“--fair!  You can’t keep doing this to me!  Claire, for the love of fucking god, I’m fucking begging you please get me the fuck out of here!  I can’t do this anymore! Not for another day! Not for another fucking SECOND!  I can barely breathe, I’m surrounded by disgusting, slippery…ugh, I can’t even say it!  And you didn’t send me in with any food! I haven’t eaten in 2 weeks, I feel so weak, I can barely move.  Please, Claire just let–”

She listened to it a few more times with her eyes closed, trying to imagine what it must have been like in there for him.  His words were a bit muffled, undoubtedly due to an adjacent fat cell pressing firmly on the tiny boy’s face, just as all adjacent fat cells would surely press firmly on his entire body.  It must have been weird to feel constant, 24-hour pressure over every square inch of your body.  

She would have just disconnected but Claire figured if she didn’t tell him how to eat, he would probably die.  It's not like a normal person would logically deduce that they’re supposed to eat fat cells…but then again Tom wasn’t a normal person anymore…he was a little speck in a Korean exchange student’s boob.   The funny thing was that it had been 11 days now.  There was no way he’d survived this long without drawing sustenance from Jeong-Suk’s body…which meant that he’d probably inadvertently ingested some of the membrane lubricant from the fat cells.  Pretty unavoidable if you ask Claire…his little face is just constantly smooshed into them, it's bound to get in his belly eventually, and the funny part is that was probably the only thing keeping him alive, and he probably didn’t even realize it.  Tom was a smart guy, maybe he would eventually realize that he’d just been licking the donut and if only he’d take a bite he’d find all the delicious cream inside!

“Ehh…it's not worth it to risk it.” Claire thought, typing on her phone screen.

“So…Remember further back to when you said you wanted to get closer to Jeong-Suk and I said I could help?  Well, I kept my promise…that’s what this is all about.  Now you’re SUPER close to Jeong-Suk. Like…REALLY close....like….’inside-of-her’ close, but you’re a smart boy, Tom…I’m sure you’ve figured that out.  

BUT….just in case you’re not…and since it's so fun to say, I’ll just say it explicitly: I shrank you down to a little speck…and then I injected you into her boob. I can tell from your vitals that you’re freaking out like a big baby for some reason but I don’t know why. We’re both getting exactly what we want out of this.  You wanted to be closer to your small-chested korean anime girl…and I wanted to conduct an experiment to see what happens to a girl when a microscopic boy gets submerged in her fatty breast tissue.  We’re both winning here!  Besides, it’s not like I’d leave you in her boob forever.  I’m gonna get you back out in a month. It's already been 2 weeks…you’re almost half-way done, you goof!” Claire hissed into her phone, trying not to draw the attention of the professor who’d already started lecturing. 

“You can make it a little longer, I know you can; so stop being such a complainer.  They’re going to write about us in the history books, ya know.  Oh, and I may have forgotten to tell you, but your food is all around you; you’ve got more than you could eat in a thousand lifetimes.  I’ll leave it at that because as amazing a scientific feat it is…i dunno…just ‘eww’, kinda.  Anyway, Bon appetit!”

She was going to check his vitals one more time, but Jeong-Suk purred into the hot guy’s ear and Claire heard her, clear as day, urge the hot guy. “Squeeze it,” Jeong-Suk said.

The hot guy grabbed her left tit and tightly squeezed it, eliciting a gasp out of Jeong-Suk. At the exact same time, a new message popped up on Claire’s phone screen:

Claire noticed the professor had started talking about the Botvinnik Variation of the Semi-Slav defense, which actually caught her interest.  The blonde put her phone back into her pocket and started paying attention to the lecture.  An hour and forty minutes later, the lecture wrapped and everyone was standing to leave.  Claire decided one more time to do a quick check before Jeong-Suk left.

The second Claire’s eyes danced over the word “nourished”, she exploded into a fit of giggles that echoed off the walls of the large lecture hall. She turned several heads, including Jeong-Suk’s as Claire loudly walked out the door, practically crying from laughter.  

It was now the third week since Claire injected Tom into Jeong-Suk’s left tit.  It was a Play Day which meant no lectures.  Claire couldn’t have been more relieved.  The blonde was constantly looking up from her third game with Mr. Kendal, checking each time someone walked in the door.  It wasn’t like Jeong-Suk to be late, but then again it wasn’t like her to get her tiny tits groped and her monster nipples squeezed during a chess lecture either so all bets were kinda off.  

The flow of students into the classroom had dwindled to a slow trickle, most of which having already taken their seats with evenly skilled opponents.  This was very unusual. Jeong-Suk never missed Play Day.  

By the time a red-faced, frustrated Mr. Kendal laid down his king for the third time in a row, the last student had come in and it was clear that Jeong-Suk was not coming.  

“Damn…” Claire said out loud.  

For a moment, she caught Mr. Kendal looking up from the board he was trying to understand as if he might scold her for her language but then he quickly stopped himself, returning his eyes to the domination he’d just experienced.  

‘I really should have gotten her phone number or something..fuck.’ Claire thought.  

It was quite a big mistake on her part.  She didn’t even know what Jeong-Suk’s last name was.  Or was Suk her last name?  She had no idea how any of that asian stuff worked.  She could barely understand the translated Japanese instructions for the Nanocons.  Claire was also kicking herself for not having set up a meeting with Jeong-Suk to go over the effects of the injection.  If only she hadn’t had the giggles so hard last time she might have been focused enough to remember.  

‘All fuckin’ Tom’s fault…’ she thought, disgusted.

“Again.” Mr. Kendal growled, resetting the pieces.  

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

That week marked a full month since she’d shrunk Tom and 28 days since he’d been injected into Jeong-Suk’s breast and the plan was to retrieve him…kinda hard to take the boy out of her boob when the boob was nowhere to be found.  Claire tried talking to Brandon but the second she mentioned Jeong-Suk’s name, the blonde boy’s eyes started watering and he said he didn’t want to talk about it.  Claire rolled her eyes and continued her search.  Finally, she came to Audrey.  She was probably one of the nerdiest girls there with coke-lens glasses, zero fashion sense, and she was quite overweight.  Translation: natural friend for Jeong-Suk…at least before Jeong-Suk got all horny and bitchy.  

Claire was right, Audrey and Jeong-Suk did in fact know each other.  

“Hey, where’s Jeong-Suk?  She’s not here today and I didn’t see her last week either.”

“Oh, she went back to South Korea.” Audrey said, managing to squeeze the words out before taking another large bite of her donut.

“What?!” Claire said, clearing her throat and straightening her shirt down over her front.  “Umm…what do you mean?” 

Audrey swallowed the last of her donut.  “Ummm…I mean that she went back to South Korea.”

‘No shit, fatty.’ Claire thought. She chose to say, “For how long?”

Audrey shrugged, “Well, she moved back there so…..for good, I guess.” 

This Audrey bitch needed to stop being so short with her. 

“What?!  Well, why? I never heard anything about this.” Claire said, frustrated.

Audrey tilted her head, taking a gulp of her soda.  “She kept talking about how she had some kind of epiphany or awakening or something like that.  And something about a guy she gave her V-card to back in South Korea…something about wanting to give him and South Korea another chance.”

Claire was trying to find a solution to this problem, but there didn’t seem to be any. Jeong-Suk had taken her tiny little tits and its tiny little passenger back to South Korea and there was nothing she could do about it.  

“Well…what was her last name?” Claire asked Audrey.

“…why do you care? Are you trying to send her a card or something? You used to make fun of her.”

“Ugh..” Claire rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, “Shut the fuck up, Audrey…go spread some more butter on that sandwich.”

Claire stomped her feet like a petulant child who wasn’t getting her way…because she wasn’t.  ‘Her way’ would have been to extract Tom from Jeong-Suk’s boob, grow him back just big enough to run some tests, and then shrink him down to the microscopic size she originally intended and put him in stupid Jeong-Suk’s other boob.  ‘Her way’ would have been to get all the data she needed and to make the necessary tweaks to improve her synthesization processes.  The unavoidable reality of Tom getting taken to South Korea, trapped in some Korean girl’s tit for the rest of his life without her even knowing he’s in there…sure, it was hilarious…but it was not at all ‘her way’. 

She had to forget about Jeong-Suk and Tom.  There were plenty of lessons learned from this experience.  She’d definitely revise some of her protocols; it wasn’t a total and complete waste.  It was going to be back to the drawing board, unfortunately.  Back to her bedroom.  She had some ideas about how to avoid the problem she encountered with Tom’s size and she was determined to achieve perfection.

She spent days reviewing her work.  Thank god she’d kept such meticulous notes in her lab journal. It allowed Claire to trace her work, review her calculations, and have the occasional laugh at her personal entries. The blonde crunched into another bite of her fresh salad as she worked back through the pages of her journal until she came to the page where she had derived her piecewise probability function.

Claire worked back from the probability function and found no issues with her math, but perhaps the constant she’d boldly named after herself had been incorrect?  It appeared in several other formulae throughout her experimentation, not just in the restoration function.  Several hours later, she emphatically concluded the Laurier Constant was correct. Not just correct, but awesome.    

In the end, it was a minor error with her lab work, or at least that’s what she concluded pending empirical verification.  It made sense because the curve of her function was correct, it just corresponded to the actual size he was reduced to, not the size she had intended to reduce him to.  She wouldn't know for sure how it happened, but some of her DNA had been introduced during the long and tedious synthesization process.  

Surely a few rogue skin cells could have found their way in, but that shouldn’t have been enough to disrupt the synthesis, but it was possible that a droplet of sweat could have dripped from her forearm one day after the gym.  Either way, she would be careful going forward…in more ways than just mathematical and stoichiometric .  Today was the 34th day since she shrunk Tom. In 2 more months, his regrowth probability would drop to 96%.  It’d be below 50% after a year.

She accepted that she’d never be able to track down Jeong-Suk, which meant Tom was condemned to live the rest of his life in the unknowing Korean girl’s breast anyway so as fun as it was to run the numbers, it made no difference;  Tom would be a tiny little boy in a boob from now on.  The chance that he could even physically be restored would asymptotically approach 0 with each passing year, and there was nothing anyone could do about it…but even if restoration remained possible forever, she couldn’t restore him.  He was gone.  Lost.  Tom was paying the price, but Claire would learn from her mistake.

Claire sat in the same coffee shop from earlier that month, in the same seat from which she’d snickered at an oblivious, full sized Tom with his whole future ahead of him.  She set a reminder on her phone to be reminded of Tom in 19 years.  She chose that amount of time because by that year, little Tom will have spent more of his life inside a boob than outside of one.  Again, since he was unreachable, there was nothing she could really do with that information…nothing except laugh, anyway.  She sipped her hibiscus cooler and browsed her phone when she heard a woman’s voice behind her.  

“Excuse me, do you mind if I take some napkins?”

Claire didn’t even bother to turn and look.  She simply said, “I don’t care..”, not even taking her focus away from her phone screen.  

“...Claire?”, the womanly voice now said.  

Claire rolled her eyes.  She hated being recognized by people.  Usually it was old high school acquaintances, her mom’s friends, or her dad’s coworkers.  She didn’t have time for any of them.  This woman wasn’t in either of those boring groups though.  This woman actually had Claire’s interest.

~

“Mrs. Benson?” Claire said with a look of surprise directed at the older, smiling woman.

The older woman looked to be in her late 30’s or possibly early 40’s.  She wore a white, loose-fitting turtleneck and some mom jeans. She was just barely fashionable enough to fit in at the trendy coffee shop, although it seemed as if it was more by accident than by any deliberate effort.  A big smile crept across her face as she stared at Claire, her slightly thin lips trending outward into very subtle wrinkles that were earned with age and wisdom.  She was by no means fat, but she carried some weight around her hips, thighs, and chest…undoubtedly a gradual accumulation over the years and decades.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked Mrs. Benson as she took a seat across from Claire. 

“Well, you didn’t think I just taught Freshman English 24 hours a day, did you?” Mrs. Benson quipped. 

Claire grinned.  That wit was precisely why she actually liked Mrs. Benson…at least as much as a Freshman could like a dorky teacher; and make no mistake of it, Mrs. Benson was a complete dork.  It actually baffled Claire’s mind that this lady was married.  Not just married, by the way, but married to a big, muscular, handsome, successful guy.  He was old, sure, but he was also pretty hunky and hot;  Claire had caught a glimpse of him once or twice back in her freshman year of highschool. He would pick Mrs. Benson up at the end of the school day and occasionally at some school functions.  Anyway, in a sea of pretentious, boring, egotistical, authoritarian teachers, Mrs. Benson’s dorkiness was completely tolerable…dare she even say ‘endearing’. 

The dorky teacher hid it very well under her baggy clothes and sexually repressed personality, but Mrs. Benson’s physique was definitely up there. Claire recalled a school play where Mrs. Benson, who of course was in charge of the drama club, was wearing a pair of nylon shorts and a normal shirt.  She looked incredibly uncomfortable but she looked really good.  It was funny that so many skinny, bratty girls at her school were jealous of her and the teacher didn’t even know. She had pretty brown hair that could have looked great if she took better care of it.  She had slightly tanned skin but it was still quite pale in comparison to someone who saw literally any sun.  For all these seemingly contradictory attributes, Claire might have called the older English teacher ‘enigmatic’. 

“No, I figured you did other stuff, too…” Claire said, sipping her hibiscus.  “I just didn’t expect to see you in this place.”  

“Well, I can see what you mean.” Mrs. Benson said, looking around at the modern architecture, smaller seating areas, and younger staff.  “Believe it or not, about a million years ago or so before they named it ‘The Cup’, I used to come here with my friends after school.  This place used to be a much quieter coffee shop called ‘Trixies’ and it was owned and run by my best friends’ parents.”

Mrs. Benson took a sip of her coffee. “But enough about me and the days of yore.  What have you been up to?  You must have graduated recently, am I right?”

Claire nodded, “Yup, 3 years ago.” She was already beginning to lose interest in the conversation.

Mrs. Benson smiled, “That’s great. I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t have you again after Freshman year.  There was something very special about you. Very special indeed.  I remember you just couldn’t–”

“--Evette Maziotto?” 

A young man about Claire’s age had approached their table, a silver credit card in one hand and a broom in another. Mrs. Benson looked up at him with a sheepish grin and an extended hand.  

“Oh thank you, honey.”  Mrs. Benson accepted the silver credit card and tucked it into her pocketbook.  “I’d lose my head if it weren’t attached to my body.”

The young man looked proud of his good deed and returned to his menial task of sweeping.  Confused, Claire asked, “Maziotto?  What happened to Benson? Did you remarry?”  

The older woman sighed, clearly not interested in talking about this but Claire let the silence hang to pressure an answer from her.  

“Maziotto is actually my maiden name.  But how about we don’t worry about Maziotto or Benson.  You and I are both adults now.  You can just call me Evette.  How’s that sound?”

Claire shrugged, “I guess.  But so you got divorced then?”

Evette looked uncomfortable, but she nodded, “Yes, that’s right.”

Claire had her suspicions of what happened and she just couldn’t keep them to herself.  “Infidelity, right?”

Evette looked shocked, a little hurt, but most of all embarrassed.  Her slightly chubby face turned beet red and she quietly replied, “Well…yes.”  The teacher was unable to make eye contact, nervously fidgeting with her coffee.

Claire was good.  Claire was really good.  But it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that a guy like Mr. Benson would eventually cheat on a prude like Evette. Again, it was nothing against her because she was cool in a dorky way, but…hmm…..how to put it…she was also dorky in a not-so-cool way.  Sure, she was pretty enough, and as Evette leaned over to put her purse on the floor, her turtleneck was pulled tight and consequently stretched tightly to reveal some pretty big boobs. Clearly, though, that wasn’t enough for a hunk like Mr. Benson.  C'est la vie. 

Claire was about ready to ask a followup question about the failed relationship but she saw that Evette was still staring down at her coffee, still red-faced, and still cripplingly embarrassed.  The woman’s eyes were now starting to water.  

“Oh…Mrs Buh–erm…Evette, I didn’t mean..” Claire said awkwardly, which seemed to open the flood gates.  Some students turned their heads to see the woman in her late 30’s crying into her hands.  

“Oh god…jeez…come on, Evette.  Get a hold of yourself.  It's okay.”  Claire reached out and patted Evette on the shoulder.  The blonde’s eyes couldn’t help but fixate on the way Evette’s huge tits subtly jiggled under the influence of Claire’s rapping against the teacher’s shoulder.  

Evette calmed herself down, sniffling and despite red eyes and puffy cheeks, she stopped crying.  

“I’m sorry, dear. I know I’m not your teacher anymore and we’re both adults now, but I shouldn’t do that in front of you.”

Evette pulled out a tissue from the dispenser and raised it to her nose.  As she did so, her elbows pressed toward each other, forcing her large breasts inboard, fighting for the territory at her breastbone, and it was a heated tie.  It was then that Claire practically felt the heat from the lightbulb going off over her head.  She had just found her next volunteer for her experiment.  Well, one of them anyway.  The other one she would have to track down and work her magic on. 

~

The cashier smiled at him as she handed him his change.  She couldn’t have been more than 25-years old and yet he recognized the twinkle in her eye and the blushing of her already rosey cheeks.  It didn’t matter if they were 25 or 55…if they looked like they should be living under a bridge or if they looked like a supermodel like the cashier standing before him, the look was always the same. Adam was aware of the effect he had on women, it was an ability he’d had since he was a teenager.  

He was 6’4”, muscular, naturally tan, flawless hairline…he really could have kept going but he preferred to at least appear humble. Someone less attractive than he might have been envious of the fact that this young cashier was deliberately trying to touch his palm as she handed over his change, but the feelings of flattery had numbed over the years.  Diminishing returns apply to everything.  All things trend to 0.  

He returned a polite smile and it looked like the cashier was about to say something.  Adam left the store, preferring to sustain the silence.  He had just purchased a gift for his daughter Jordan from her favorite store and was trying to decide if he would mail it to her or drop it off at the house. On one hand, he wanted to see her face when she opened it, but on the other hand the pain of seeing the house he had once called a home was still very painful. 

Adam wasn’t sure how it happened, but walking in deep thought, he somehow accidentally shoulder-checked a poor girl who was walking into the store as he was walking out.  The girl truly came out of nowhere.  She wore a simple black shirt and capri-jeans.  Not only had she practically appeared out of thin air, it looked as if she didn’t even belong here, dressed so minimally in what was one of the coldest winters in the past ten years.  She was a small little thing, couldn’t have been taller than 5’3” and she definitely went down, dropping her bag and spilling its contents to the tiled floor.  

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Adam said, mortified, to the young woman on the floor.  She looked even younger than the cashier.

“It's fine, don’t worry about it.” The blonde said, appearing justifiably annoyed as she gathered her things. Nothing appeared to be broken but her items had exploded out as if they were shrapnel from a grenade.  

“I was looking the other way and I just didn’t even see you.” Adam said, still embarrassed and in disbelief, looking around embarrassed. He dropped to his knees to help the young woman pick up her trinkets, along with one of her white flip-flops that had soared off her left foot.  Her flip-flop looked almost like a toy in Adam’s huge hand. 

“Well, at my size, I’m kinda used to that.” she said half-jokingly.  

Adam was biting his lip now. Usually it was women who made fools of themselves in front of him, not the other way around, and this girl was barely older than his own daughter!  He scooped up the spilled items along with the cute blonde.  The mess of items contained hair products, clothing, and…

“Oh, no…” they both said at the same time.  Adam was cringing as the girl’s pink, painted fingernails clasped the pieces of red-rust plastic strewn across the cold floor.

“You know what this is?” The blonde asked in a defeated but interested tone.  “Or was…I guess?”

Adam nodded his head solemnly.  “Listen, I am so sorry.”

“It's a Jawa Sandcrawler.  An original from 1978, radio controlled and everything.” she said, trying in vain to push the shards of plastic back together. 

He might have been surprised to see such an attractive young girl know so much about Star Wars, but then again he was a very attractive man who had followed Star Wars his entire life.  As a child, he was obsessed and age only made the interest stronger.  He recognized the Jawa Sandcrawler because he remembered having one as a child.  In fact, as he thought about it, it's not like they were made out of glass or anything.  They were hard plastic.  How the hell did that thing break just from falling on the floor from 3 feet high?

“I know what it is. Listen…you have to let me pay you for that.” Adam said, reaching quickly for his wallet.  “Did you get it at the hobby place around the corner from here?  Just tell me how much it was.”

“No, don’t worry about it.” The blonde sighed, stuffing the pieces back into her bag.  

“No, seriously…you must let me make this right.” 

She looked up at him and he immediately noticed her sky blue eyes.  They were quite captivating and her makeup accentuated her facial features beautifully.  

“No, I’m telling you…seriously…it's okay.  It's not like you meant to do it; clearly you like Star Wars as much as I do.  Maybe this is a lesson that I need to stop spending all my money on stuff like this.” She hoisted the heavy bag back up on her shoulder. “If I'd passed on memorabilia over the years, I might have been able to afford a ticket to that showing in the city next week. Lord knows I’ve had enough time to save.”

Adam replied, “The rescreening of A New Hope?!”

“Yeah, but the one that Mark Hamil and Harrison Ford and all the others are going to be there for…and it apparently has never-before-seen footage and the actors are doing a big Q&A after and they’re giving away a ton of free stuff too.  It's supposed to literally be the biggest Star Wars event in history.”

“Yes! I know all about it!” Adam said excitedly.  The 42-year old man sounded like a boy again. “I have two tickets to go next week. Front row!”

“Oh wow, those must have cost you thousands!” The dirty blonde said in disbelief. 

“Well, I don't want to say but you’re not too far off!  I actually bought them over a year ago back when I first heard they were going to be having it.  Although now…” 

Now Adam didn’t know who he was going with…or if he was even going to go at all.  His ex-wife Evette didn’t quite love Star Wars as much as he did, but she was very accepting of his interests and loved to be a part of them.  Adam was incredibly excited to bring Evette with him, but now they were separated…all because of an incredibly stupid mistake.  Well, really it was two mistakes if he was being completely fair.  And all it would have taken to avoid this whole situation was if he’d have just stopped to think…if he would have just for a moment taken a step back and looked at the situation and used his head. But he didn’t…he had pride too after all…and now she was gone.  And now here he was, single again and alone.  

“...now…” He continued, clearing his throat, “...well, now due to some recent life changes, I have an extra ticket.  Do you…well…want to go?”

The cute blonde’s jaw almost hit the floor and her beautiful blue eyes widened. After a long pause, she said “...Uhhh…are you being serious right now?”

“Well, yeah…I’d like it if the extra ticket could go to another Star Wars fan and who better than someone who bought an original Sandcrawler?  Besides, I still feel terrible about that.”

“Well geez…” The blonde said, clearly trying to find the words.  Adam had taken back some semblance of control and authority in this conversation. It was a place he most often lived so he was happy to have the control back.  

“That’s…that’s really nice of you, mister…but I couldn’t–”

“--no, you absolutely could. And you should!” Adam said emphatically.  “You may even be a bigger fan than I am. You need to go to this and I have an extra ticket that isn’t going to get used.  This is a win/win for everyone, and it’ll give me a chance to make up for breaking your Sandcrawler.”

The blonde bit her fingernails, looking like she was in deep thought.  Adam admired the color of her fingernails; he loved that shade of pink on a woman’s nails.  He definitely had already noticed her exposed toes were painted to match the same color.  Adam was confident and free to admire; he already knew she was going to say yes.

“Okay, I’ll take you up on your offer.” The short, cute blonde said with a short, cute smile.  “But you still owe me a new sandcrawler.”

“Great!  That’s fair!  Well, we should probably know each other’s names then, right?” Adam asked playfully.  He extended a large hand.  “I’m Adam.”

The blonde placed her small hand in Adam’s, and his fingers wrapped to easily consume her tiny hand.  “I’m Claire.  And I gotta say…I’m so glad I ran into you, Adam.”

The day had finally come, and Adam sat in his car parked alongside a rundown apartment in the city.  He was dressed up very nicely and with his nice car, he was a bit nervous about sitting there for as long as he was; he didn’t often go into the city, certainly not this part.  To his left were 5 to 10 shirtless men on the fenced-in basketball courts, curiously painted a deep, vibrant purple.  They looked intimidating, but they were just playing basketball and weren’t paying him any mind.  

Finally, he saw a front door open on his right side and out came Claire.  She looked absolutely gorgeous.  Sure, she looked good in the mall that day, but now she was wearing her shoulder-length hair up and stretched over her thin body was a stunning blue dress.  Somewhere above the knee, the dress ended and the dark nylon began, ending finally with some very fashionable high heels.  

Girls typically carried a comically small purse to go with fancy evening attire, probably for makeup or maybe even pepper spray.  Claire was breaking that cliche, instead opting to carry a duffel bag.  Adam recognized that bag anywhere.  No doubt about it, that was an overnight bag.  Adam hated it about himself, but he could already feel himself ever-so-slightly beginning to lose interest.  Something intriguing about Claire was her unpredictability and her confidence, but this was incredibly predictable.  He had to give her a break, she was so young.  ‘Ugh..’, he thought. ‘Am I a creep?’  

“Are you going to unlock the door, you goof?” Claire said with a chuckle through the glass of the passenger side window.  

Adam quickly fumbled to unlock the door and Claire took a seat, filling the car with the scent of lavender.  The 20-something year old set her overnight bag in the backseat and gently patted Adam on the thigh. 

“Thanks for picking me up, and thanks for this.” Claire said with a beautiful, sparkling smile.

“No, thank you. I’ve got someone to go with now; a fellow Star Wars fan at that…this is going to be so much fun.” Adam said.

“Oh, you have no idea.” Claire replied with a giggle. 

Adam had somewhat of an idea.  He smiled and put the car in gear, leaving the purple basketball courts behind him.

“I can’t believe they let you bring your bag in with you.” Adam said with a grin, looking around at all the intricate decorations and expressed fandom.

“As long as you know how to talk to people, you can do anything you want.” Claire said.

“Why do you need it anyway?” Adam asked. 

“Oh, look.” Claire said, ignoring the question.  “Isn’t that Rye?”  

Adam squinted his eyes to focus in on the woman on the other side of the hall. She was glamorous and she was surrounded by a sizable posse as well as adoring fans. It was Daisy Ridley!

“Oh wow, how cool is that!  Wait…did you call her ‘Rye’?” Adam asked with a look of hinted skepticism and mostly amusement.  In that moment, three children ran between them, shrieking, “Momma, it's Rey! Hurry, let’s go say hi!”  

Claire rolled her eyes, “Rey, Rye…whatever.  I didn’t like the new ones anyway.”

It felt strange being here without Evette.  They talked about it for so long and now here he was with a completely different girl on his arm…one who had brought an overnight bag on their first…well…date, if you could call it that.  God, he felt creepy. People probably thought she was his daughter…or that he was really wealthy. 

‘Yeah, let's go with that one.’  

“I’m pretty sure the pamphlets said they would be doing this all again after the show.” Claire said, wrapping her soft hands around one of Adam’s large arms and guiding him toward the dark theater.  The back of his hand grazed her lower stomach and he groaned in his mind.  The soft, silky material of the blue dress was so thin that for that brief moment, he could feel the pantyline way south of her belly button.  He’d spent more than a year thinking of little else than Evette and his daughter, and even up to a few moments ago, they were fresh on his mind.  Until now.

 “Let’s hit them up afterwards…you know everyone else will be trying to go home after the movie and the Q&A anyway so it’ll be less crowded with less lines.”

Adam reluctantly agreed, following the gentle nudging of Claire and they made their way into the theater.  The 42-year old set a hand on Claire’s bare back and guided her to their row, which was currently empty.  It was the best viewing location in the theater, the center-back.  Not a single person was seated behind them yet, and there were only a few people ahead, but it was difficult to tell in the dark.  Playing over the speakers was a very soft, classical acoustic guitar playing the Imperial Death March.  

Adam had been pretty upset about everything that happened with Evette.  So many things could have been avoided, and the events left a hole in his heart that no quantity of women could fill.  Right now though, in this moment, as the beautiful blonde to his right smoothed out the back of her blue dress before sitting down on his right side, he felt like things were finally starting to look up.  

That was when he felt a sharp bug bite on the right side of his neck.  The bite immediately radiated out from the source.  It was impossible to put into words, but he could feel it…even see it…brilliant, sparkling flecks of purple and pink amidst an ocean of black washing forcefully and violently into him through that singular point on his neck.  It spread out through his veins, invading and permeating into his muscles, into his body fat. If he had a soul, it was sparkling with this cursed, contaminated sensation too.  

The corrupting effect spread quickly and before he could even raise his hand to swat the bug away, the purple and pink shards of knee-bending pain had spread to his fingertips, and as far down to his toes.  He felt it fill his stomach and his lungs, his cock and in his throat.  Adam felt his eardrums flex under the pressure of thickening blood rushing through his temples next to his ears. His vision went black and his lids protectively slammed shut, nearly crushing his corneas from the force of their reflexive clenching. Within a fraction of a second after the bite, he’d felt an immense, unbearable pain and he inhaled, preparing to scream for death…and then he felt a new sensation cresting on a wave behind the pain. 

It was a vivid, life-changing pleasure, as if to make amends for the seconds of hell he just experienced. He cried for a lifetime as he felt the equivalent of several dozen orgasms enslaving and ravaging his confused and excited body all at once. And then…everything stopped.  All of it. Everything.  He lost control of his arms as they shot in toward his body, as did his legs.  

His neck shortened and pulled in toward his torso, which itself seemed to be moving away from him…but if everything was moving away from him, what really was ‘him’ at this point?  Everything was changing, and changing so, so quickly.  His fancy clothing exploded up around him and wrapped his body as if it had come to life, seeking to protectively cocoon him from a world, complete with auditorium seats, high ceilings, and a grinning young blonde on his side that was ever-expanding toward the heavens.  What was that in her hand?  A syringe?

Everything else that happened next was a blur and he could only experience it in fragments.  One minute he was trapped in a confusing labyrinth of cotton that smelled strongly of his deodorant and cologne, the next he was soaring through the air and landed with a hard, sticky thud.  It was around this moment, when he saw Claire quickly scooping up his clothing off his seat hundreds of feet above him and stuffing them into the duffel bag by her feet.  

She lifted his shoes and stuffed them in next…and now the only thing left that showed his existence was..well…him.  As insane of an idea as it was to entertain, at this point anything must be possible.  He was shrunken, naked, and cold.  He was on the dirty floor of the movie theater, next to Claire’s feet.  His instincts told him to get up and run. There was a problem though: he couldn’t.  His bare skin was adhered to the sticky, butter-soaked, sugar-saturated, dirt-ridden floor.  Adam was completely helpless.  

“Fuck…where the fuck is he?” He heard Claire bellow, but in reality it was actually just a harsh whisper.  

He thought about staying silent…nothing good could come of this terrifying young girl finding him.  It was clear to him now that the venom that entered his neck was from her…she did this to him…on purpose.  He thought about just staying quiet and hoping she’d leave without him, but what fate awaited him without her?  Was it worth it to try?  Luckily, he didn’t have to decide, for her phone’s brilliant white flashlight illuminated the floor and her beautiful blue eyes locked on him.  

“Oh my god, are you actually stuck?”  Her eyes wrinkled up in a smile and her hand rushed to cover her full, red lips. “Oh, god…I just can’t even.”

He yelped as she removed him roughly from the floor.  He felt as if he might have left some skin but she didn’t seem to care.  “Oh god, you feel so gross…”

Claire unscrewed her bottle of water and held Adam down between her parted knees with one hand, and started pouring the cold water over his gross, sticky body.  His tiny body snaked through her fingers as he choked and sputtered.  Finally, the waterboarding stopped, and she continued rubbing him until the sugar, dirt, and popcorn oil was gone.  

Next, he felt his body being rubbed into something relatively soft; he deduced it was the shirt tail of his button up. Everything after that was a blur.  He saw horizontal, fleshy walls in his peripherals as Claire spread her legs and began moving him between her bare thighs.  He broke the plane of the dress hem, and it was much darker, blue above and below him, flesh on either side of him, and white with pink polka dots directly ahead. 

They were Claire’s panties, and a huge set of fingers rushed in ahead of him, like a party host trying to prepare the setting before the guests arrived.  The fingers pulled the huge section of cotton aside and stuffed him against her swollen, humid crotch and he heard the rustling of cotton at his back, settling back into place and holding him firmly against her soft, plush lips.  Before he passed out, he heard her whisper, 

“You like pussy so much, huh? Ya ever been hugged by one?”

Adam didn’t know how much time had passed when he came to.  The only frame of reference he had was some brief moments of consciousness here and there.  There were several moments when he’d woken thinking it was a dream, only to feel the young blonde’s big soft lips wrapped around his body, holding him so, so tight.  Once or twice he was jarred awake by huge, invasive fingers. They roughly repositioned him against her.  He once even awoke to discovering he’d somehow slid south of her womanhood and into the space between her glutes. He was grateful to be scooped out from there.  Now he was in a strange apartment, and staring down at him was none other than the terrifying Claire.  

“Oh good, you’re awake just in time.  Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Oh god, no…please…what are you doing to me?” Adam said weakly, raising his hands as a semi-opaque cylinder the size of a tree trunk came toward him and aimed at his head.  He saw her fingertips squeeze it and a single drop, which was nearly as large as him, landed atop his head and engulfed his naked body.  Adam tried taking a step backward out of the pale pink droplet but he slipped on the glass floor beneath him.  Much to his horror, he saw his surroundings changing again, they were exploding up around him.  

The edges of the glass platform, once only several dozen feet away, were rushing away from him on all sides into mind-boggling infinity.  Much to his relief, he wasn’t subject to the unpredictable roller coaster of pain and pleasure the injection had given him, but he knew he was shrinking…and he was shrinking FAST.  Ironically enough, it reminded him of Star Wars…when Hans and Chewy would engage the warp speed drive and all the stars would warp and elongate.  Everything was warping and elongating as he was zooming into the ground.  

“Oh my god, it worked!” The cute blonde was jumping up and down. The sound of her voice and her bare feet slapping the linoleum was enough to bring poor Adam to his knees.  

“Oh, Tom…wherever you are right now, thanks! HAHA!” Claire laughed.

“Who the fuck is Tom?” Adam asked, but there was no way the goddess above him could hear a word he was saying. He could hear her though. His world shook with the natural tremors of her grip as he was slid toward a behemoth of metal and plastic.  It was a microscope.  Was he…that small?  She couldn’t even see him with her naked eye? He looked up.  Practically so big it filled his peripherals, there was a lens.  But then a loud unlatching sound could be heard, and he saw massive pink fingernails on either side of the lens.  It twisted and flew away, replaced by a larger, closer lens.  A few seconds went by and he heard the blonde sigh.  Again, the pink fingernails were back and the sky lens flew away, replaced by the biggest and closest one. The highest zoom.

“Fuck, I can’t believe it, this is awesome!  Look at you in there! SOOOO small!” Claire cooed. She roughly removed the slide from the microscope and set it back down on the table. 

“Okay, so I’m exhausted from how insanely boring our evening was so I’m actually kinda in a hurry to get to bed.  Actually, I think first I’m gonna take this gross pink off my fingers and toes.  Pink is a great color but it looks terrible on nails!  I’ll never understand how you could be into that.”

‘What the actual fuck?  How did she know I liked pink nails?  Who the fuck is this?!?’

“But anyway, everything worked perfectly so we’ve got a lot to be proud of…and even more to be excited for!” I’m gonna go ahead and get you all set up and ready for tomorrow, okay?” Claire yawned as she reached out of his view for something.  He had so many questions. What the fuck did she want?  Why did she do this to him? How long would he stay like this? One of his biggest concerns…how the fuck was he breathing underwater..or whatever the fuck this pale, glowing pink liquid was that surrounded him?  

“So, this is probably gonna be the last time I talk directly to you for about a month I think, so I’ll tell you what I apparently forgot to tell Tom, the most important thing for you. It probably feels weird for you to be able to breathe in that stuff…I’m sure you’ve figured out that you can, by the way.  Just go with it, okay?  And also, not only can you breathe that stuff, but you can eat and drink it too, so it's basically got everything you need.  But you’ll only have it until…well…you get to where you’re going next.  And then when you’re there, the pink stuff is gonna kinda diffuse and disappear but, at that point, it should be pretty clear what will be sustaining you..I’ll just leave it at that!”

‘She’s not really going to leave me here like this, is she?  What the fuck is she talking in riddles for?’  

“Claire, please tell me what is going on!”

Claire yawned again. She wasn’t ignoring him…no, you had to be big enough to actually be ignored..it was an active action.  What she was doing was a passive action, her natural inclination was to not hear or really even consider microscopic things.  

“Okay, hold still.” Claire said as she reached out of Adam’s view.  He gasped to see an absolutely enormous cylinder re-enter frame.  It was much larger than the eye dropper thing that had shrunk him to the micron scale.  The tip of the enormous structure dipped into his liquid and he tried his best to focus up its shaft.  

“No…..”  Adam said in disbelief and growing terror.  It was already halfway full of liquid that matched in color what he was swimming in. “Is that….”

He could feel against his bare skin the pink liquid rushing around him toward the tip of this structure and he instinctively tried to swim away from it.  In the end, he was pulled toward the tip just like everything else.  He was sucked up and swallowed into the belly of the plastic beast, and he watched Claire place a rubber cube at the end of the stem, just to make sure he couldn’t get out. She set the syringe down and cut the lights, presumably heading off to bed, leaving poor Adam in complete darkness.

~

“Mom, door!”

Evette heard the knocking, but her daughter’s shouting caused her to jolt such that she almost cut herself.  “Okay, thanks Jordan…I heard it too.” Evette said. She was in the same room as the 18-year old, who’s brow was uncharacteristically furrowed and marked from rubbing.  Jordan was starting college next year and having a bit of trouble with math. Evette, being a humble English teacher, could barely even look at Jordan’s homework without her brown eyes crossing.  Evette set down the half-sliced tomato and knife and washed her hands.

She made her way around the table, briefly glancing at the empty chair at the head of the table, opposite of where Jordan was currently sitting.  It was where the old head of the house sat. 

Evette was about halfway to the door, wistfully recollecting when a second set of slightly louder knocks sounded off the front door, and Jordan again yelled, “Mom, door!”  

“My goodness, Jordan; I’m getting it!” Evette said in disbelief.  She shook her head and opened the door.  

“Hi, Ms. Maziotto.” Claire said

Evette’s former student stood there on her front step. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and she wore a very simple but cute blouse. Below the blouse were faded capri style blue jeans and black flip-flops…probably to celebrate this uncharacteristically warm winter day.  On her left shoulder was a purse hanging between her arm and the left side of her chest.

“Hello, Claire, it's good to see you again.  And I told you, you can call me Evette; we’re both adults now!” Evette said with an overemphasized smile.  

“Right, I keep forgetting!” Claire replied.

Evette brought her former student into her home, complimenting Claire on her adorable purple purse, and Claire graciously accepted the compliment.  They made their way into the dining room.

“I apologize for all the clutter.  Jordan tends to just spread out whenever she is doing her schoolwork…” Evette said as she gently slid some of the papers closer to her daughter, freeing up a space at the table for Claire to sit.   “but she will be wrapping up shortly.” Evette said, returning to the tomatoes.  “And dinner will be finished very soon.”

Evette heard a zipper behind her and some rustling, and then the easily distracted Jordan’s voice saying, “What the heck is that?”

Evette turned and saw Claire had set down a syringe on the dining room table, between herself and Jordan. “Did you invite your drug dealer to dinner tonight, mom?” Jordan asked flatly.

“Oh so funny, this one is.” Evette said, setting her hands on Jordan’s shoulders and squeezing playfully.  Jordan was an athletic girl who also somewhat took after her mother when it came to her figure. The 18-year old didn’t quite have the same breasts, but her athleticism took her lower half to a whole new level. She’d always had naturally wide hips and thick thighs, but now she was quite voluptuous. Looking down, Evette saw that the teen’s bottom was practically hanging off the sides of the narrow, hard dining room chair.  

The black yoga shorts were stretched quite tight and the waistband dipped significantly, revealing the top band of her colorful underwear.  Evette subtly gripped the bottom of Jordan’s matching zip-up yoga hoodie, unbunching it from between her back and the backrest. The concerned Mom gently pulled it down to conceal her daughter’s exposed rear. Evette could practically hear her daughter rolling her eyes. Around the same time she developed her curves, Jordan had developed one heck of a bratty attitude.

“Your mom agreed to help me out with an experiment for my…” Claire hesitated for a second, “...let’s call it my ‘Senior Design Project’.”

Jordan quickly looked up at her mother, “Mom, you’re going to let her stick you with that?”

Evette was actually moved by the concern in her young daughter’s usually icy, blueish-green eyes.  

“Yes, sweety but it's nothing to worry about.  Claire has assured me that it's a completely harmless mix of…oh what was it again, Claire?”

“Mostly saline solution with trace quantities of sugar and acetaldehyde.” Claire said.

“Aceta-what?  And you trust her?” Jordan said, looking at the cute blonde and then back up at her mother.

“It's harmless; read a book.” Claire said, fiddling with her purse.

“What the fuck?” Jordan said, dropping her pencil.

“Jordan!  I’m sorry Claire, she really just speaks her mind; no filter at all.  Yes, honey. I do trust her.  I had Claire as a student years ago and if you’d have seen how brilliant and driven she was…” 

Evette was now turning the focus of her speech from her daughter to Claire, 

“...you’d have as much trust and faith in her as I do.  The young woman sitting here with us is a shooting star. She truly is going places and I am honored to help her in any way that I can.”

Jordan reached out quickly for the syringe and plucked it up off the table. Claire’s eyes, for just a moment, seemed to widen but then her demeanor relaxed to that of pure interest.  The 18-year old brought the syringe up close to her face, peering into the chamber where a curious, pale pink solution was stored.  Jordan squinted one eye shut and the eyelashes on her right eye brushed against the chamber, “And what, it's going in your arm or something?”

“Apparently, it needs to be injected into…well…breast tissue.”

Moments ago, Jordan appeared sincerely concerned for her mother’s well-being, but now she was giggling, “Wait…this is going in one of your boobs?”

Jordan giggled so hard, she actually dropped the needle.  This time, Claire actually did seem alerted, standing up to retrieve it from the clumsy teenager.  Evette peered over her daughter’s shoulder and saw the syringe’s fall was broken by her daughter’s lap.  It landed without consequence and was now partially wedged, as Jordan had caught it between her bare thighs.  Claire’s fingers reached in and pried the syringe out from between the teenager’s thick legs, who was concerned she might have been pricked by the needle.  

“No need to freak out, see the cover?” Claire said, a bit annoyed, pointing to the soft cube stuck on the end of the syringe, preventing anything from coming in or going out.  

“Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you, Jordan.  Are we seriously having this conversation at your age?” Evette said, playfully and very lightly bopping her daughter on the back of the head.  

The three ate dinner and discussed all the normal things that would come up around the dinner table. They discussed Jordan’s prospects at college next year and then a brief argument ensued as to whether or not she’d go.  Evette, on Jordan’s behalf, sought advice from Claire about starting out as a college student.  The two young women seemed pretty similar in Evette’s opinion.  Both seemed strong, often succinct in their wording and communication, and a bit…well…if she was only thinking of the adjective in her head, she’d say ‘bitchy’.  

It wasn’t really an insult though; it seemed to serve them well.  It was just like with Jordan; she had always been a beautiful girl and often used her good looks to get what she wanted, or to make difficult situations easier.  Evette fully expected a knockout like Claire had done the exact same thing.  Jordan asked about her dad, and that conversation had a very short life, although Claire very strangely tried to keep it alive. They talked about random things as well: summer camping trips, how Evette’s students were shaping up, and even about one of Evette’s older friends Amina, who she and Jordan were planning on visiting for New Year’s.

Once dinner was done, Evette took the cleaned plates of Claire and Jordan, setting them down in the sink.  

“Thanks, Evette.  Dinner was great.” Claire said, picking up the syringe. It had laid motionless, adorning the table as if it were the most boring centerpiece in the world. It only occasionally drew her attention through the 45 minutes to an hour of girl talk over dinner. 

“Ready for the fun part?” Claire asked, waiving the syringe gently to draw the womens’ eyes.

“Oh, alright.  Can I see it first?” Evette asked, to which Claire manipulated the syringe in her fingers in order to hand it to Evette, handle first.  Evette accepted it and raised it to her face.  She squinted her eyes and peered into the chamber, observing the faded pink color uniformly distributed throughout the liquid.  Jordan leaned in next to her and looked in as well.  

“How come it's pink?” Jordan asked, so close her nose briefly touched the chamber and Evette slightly raised it to avoid dropping it.  She could see what looked like incredibly small bubbles occasionally coming into existence and disappearing within the small chamber. 

“It has to do with the breakdown stage of the sugar.  It means everything is working as it's supposed to.  You might notice it actually emits a very weak light too.” 

Evette cupped the syringe and looked in.  Both women oohed and ahhed, seeing that Claire was correct.  

“That's actually kinda part of the experiment.” Claire said matter-of-factly.

Evette handed the syringe back to Claire. “And I suppose that’s another part that you’re going to tell me one day when this experiment is over, huh?” Evette said.

“One day!” Claire said with a laugh.  “Okay, let’s do this.”

Evette started to unbutton the top few buttons of her button-up blouse, revealing to Claire for the first time, her ample cleavage.  

“I don't know why you don’t show those off more, Mom.” Jordan said of her mom’s large breasts.  “If I had ones that big, I’d be wearing low-cut shirts all the time.”

Evette rolled her eyes, “Yours are nice, sweetheart. And you already DO wear low-cut shirts all the time.” 

The 37-year old English teacher had partially exposed the light blue bra that had been hiding under her proper, professional blouse and was now asking Claire where the injection was going to go.

“We can put it right in the top of the right breast; that way you don’t even have to take anything else off.”  Claire said as she stood to walk around the table and sit next to Evette.  She briefly saw Claire’s eyes wander down to the back of Jordan’s chair, but only for a second.

“Great, that sounds easy enough.” Evette said, holding her shirt wide open.  

“One thing I want to do first, for your benefit.” Claire started, “...the stuff in the syringe is going to feel kinda cold so it's best to get it warmed to your unique temperature…so let’s just…”

Evette slightly gasped as Claire’s fingers approached Evette’s chest.  The blonde stuck two fingers between the 37-year old’s compressed breasts and the black fingernails disappeared for a moment.  They reappeared though, parting Evette’s breasts just enough to slide the shaft of the syringe down between them.  Claire pressed the syringe down until the entire pale pink chamber had disappeared into her chasmic cleavage.

“What size are you anyway?” Claire asked, letting go entirely of the syringe and Evette’s breasts. It was a strange sensation, feeling the cool, smooth plastic swallowed in her cleavage as the parted sections of her breasts rushed back to meet. 

“I’m an E-cup.” Evette replied, a bit embarrassed, but trying to remind herself that she was just amongst girls. Furthermore, hers were the largest of the three, and she shouldn’t be embarrassed about having big breasts.  Big breasts were especially desirable these days.

“Oh, great.  The last girl’s were much smaller.” Claire said, her hands now free to push a few strands of dirty blonde hair out of her face. She also removed a disposable sanitary square from its packaging and started to unfold it.

“Is that part of it then?” Evette asked, looking down at her cleavage, unable to even see the syringe anymore. “Seeing what happens when the size is different?”

Claire grinned in a strange way, “As a matter of fact, yes.   Okay, I think it's warm enough now.  You wanna take it out?”  Claire gently wiped the sanitary square against the top, inside curve of Evette’s right breast. It had been awhile since someone had touched her breast and she’d been lying if it didn’t make her heart pump just a little bit faster.  “Careful when pulling it out though, make sure you don’t accidentally pull off the tip guard.”

Evette carefully separated her soft, fleshy breasts and began slowly pulling the shaft out of her cleavage, re-exposing it to the world.  The clear plastic stuck slightly to her warm skin but not so much that it was a problem.  Her body heat definitely did the job.  She handed the syringe back to Claire.  

“Okay, I think we’re good to start now.”  

Claire uncapped the syringe and took one final look inside at the pale liquid.  The tiny spot on Evette’s right breast was still glistening from the sterilization.  It was only about 2 inches from the depth of her cleavage. Claire was reaching from Evette’s left side, and Evette could tell that the plush curve of her left breast was actually obstructing the blonde’s view of the injection point.  Claire took it upon herself to gently press down on Evette’s left breast to make sure she could see.  

The tip of the needle made contact with Evette’s breast and she winced slightly.  No one likes needles, and of course it didn’t feel pleasant, but Evette was surprised how little it actually hurt.  Evette, Claire, and Jordan all watched as the long, thin tip disappeared deeper into Evette’s large breast, the trajectory of the needle’s tip destined for the center-mass of the breast.  Claire didn’t stop until the thin needle tip was completely inside of Evette, and only the chamber containing the pink liquid was visible, pressing and sinking slightly into the cushion of Evette’s bosom.  

“Mom, doesn’t that hurt?!” Jordan said, sitting up on her knees and leaning forward, pressing her bottom against the back of her chair.

“No, honey..it's just a little uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt.”

Evette watched as Claire’s thumb worked around to the plunger and began pressing.  Slowly but surely, the plunger forced the pink, pale liquid down the syringe chamber, and with nowhere else to go, it was forced into Evette’s large E-cup breast.  Despite having warmed the fluid with her body heat, Evette was fascinated to feel with such bodily clarity the exact moment that the liquid had discharged from the sharp tip of the syringe and started to diffuse into her breast tissue.  

As she felt the diffusion, she saw that Claire was still forcing more of the liquid into her, and the slight but pleasant cold sensation was diffusing throughout the discharge site deep in the center of her breast. Finally, Claire’s thumb hit resistance.  As it did, Evette’s right breast jiggled slightly in response, a subtle wave of recoil from the blonde’s impact of the plunger against the back of the syringe. The subtle wave even traveled over to Evette’s left breast before finally dissipating.  

Claire began removing the syringe and Evette watched with fascination as the tip grew from her skin…emerging millimeter by millimeter.  Even as it grew from her body, she could still feel the somewhat cold fluid deep inside of her.  The needle finally came out, not a single drop of pale pink wasted.  Claire capped the completely empty syringe and as if on queue, Evette’s ability to feel the chilled liquid in her breast was subsiding as her breast tissue forced the fluid to meet its surrounding body temperature.

“All done.  You did great, Evette.” Claire said, setting the syringe back in her bag.  

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be.” Evette said, pressing her fingertip against the spot where the injection took place.  “There’s barely even a mark there.”

Evette buttoned up her blouse back up to the bottom of her neck, completely concealing her cleavage once again.  

“I appreciate you being so willing to help. What you need to do for the next few days…before you go to bed, just rub and massage the injection site for 5 to 10 minutes.” Claire said.

“A boob massage, nice.” Jordan said, having returned her eyes to her homework after losing interest in the injection. 

Claire stood up to return to her seat, stopping over Jordan’s shoulder. The cute blonde stared for a few minutes and then said, “Polar Coordinates?”

Evette had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but apparently Jordan did. 

“Yes!  Do you know these?” Jordan said half excited, half frustrated.

“Yeah, they’re easy.” Claire replied, sitting down and sliding her chair closer to an offended looking Jordan.  

“They’re not that much different than the Cartesian Coordinate System you should already be used to which uses x and y components to represent a point in 2D space. Polar coordinates are pretty much essential for complex vector analysis and imaginary numbers. Instead of using x and y, Polar uses R and θ .  When trying to identify a point in 2D space with Cartesian Coordinates like….say (3,4)...you would go right 3 spaces on the x axis and then up 4 spaces right?”

“Right…” Jordan said.

“Okay, that’s how you get to (3,4) using the Cartesian.  With Polar, you get there by drawing a line from here to here…” 

Claire took Jordan’s pencil right out of her hand and drew a big, fat pencil line from the origin of her graph at (0,0) to the spot (3,4). 

“...to here.”

From the (3,4) point, she then drew lighter dotted lines straight down to the x-axis and then straight left along the x-axis back to 0.

“See how it makes a triangle now?” Claire said. “The width is 3 and the height is 4.  So now you can find the length of the hypotenuse, which is the big fat line we just drew. The triangle we drew is a right triangle which means we can use Pythagorean’s Theorem to solve for the hypotenuse. The hypotenuse is 5 so that means R = 5.”

“Okay…” Jordan said cautiously.

“And then finding θ is even easier.  It's just the angle from the line R to the x-axis.  We find that by doing the inverse tangent of the height over the width..and boom…53.13 degrees.”

Evette was amazed; she could see the gears spinning in Jordan’s head and she was quiet for a long time, but then she spoke up.

“So…that spot in 2D space can be expressed as (3,4) using cartesian coordinates and it can also be expressed as (5, 53.13) degrees in polar coordinates?” 

Claire unceremoniously replied, “Yup.”  

“Oh goodness, Claire…I understood next to nothing about what you were just saying, but Jordan latched onto it so quickly.”

“God mom, I’m not stupid.” Jordan said, curling her upper lip in disgust. 

“Oh, I know that sweety..” Evette said, turning her eyes back from Jordan and onto Claire.  

“What do you think about coming over here once a week to tutor her? I could pay!”

Claire grew an enormous grin that spread to Evette like a virus.  The pretty, blue-eyed young blonde replied, 

“That sounds like an awesome idea, Evette.  I’m so glad you thought of it.  I’d love to help.”

~

This story is up to Chapter 8 on Patreon. Check it out by following the link below.

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If you'd rather not read Claire's handwriting, scroll down to the bottom to read a typed version of her journal entries.

Claire’s Journal Entries (TYPED)

12/02:

Today was the day!  Everything went according to plan…like, stupidly well.  I don’t know what it is but I just have a knack for putting an idea in someone’s head and making them think they came up with it. It's honestly not even challenging. I painted my fingernails and toenails pink, put on the makeup, and went to the weird hobby place. I bought the dumb Star Wars thing and took it into the bathroom with me.  I think I scared the girl in the stall next to me when I broke it; the sound was so loud! Anyway, he fell for everything and I’m meeting up with the handsome, dreamy (and super-cheating creeper) Adam next week. It's been awhile since I got all dressed up so I’m actually looking forward to it.  That’s gotta be the silliest thing I’ve ever said, huh?  Looking forward to going to a Star Wars event!

12/12:

I just tucked myself into bed and I gotta say…my heart is still racing!  Tonight was the dumb Star Wars thing with Adam and everything went great.  He picked me up in his nice car and I swear we almost got into a couple accidents from how many glances he was stealing at me. It only strengthened my resolve to shrink him. I don’t want to be misunderstood here…I don’t really care about any of them.  I don’t care about Adam or Evette or their ghetto-booty daughter.  I didn’t care about Jeong-Suk and I didn’t care about Tom.  What I care about is this experiment and getting the information I need.

All that being said, there was something way more satisfying about shrinking a cheater like Adam.  Sure, shrinking Tom was fun and I’m not gonna lie, I literally had to take a 5 minute break just now from laughing so hard…but I won’t doubt that Tom was a likable guy with his whole life ahead of him..even though I personally couldn’t stand him.  Even though I find it cute, funny, etc. that he’s now going to spend the rest of his life in his crush’s tit, I can at least recognize that a normal person would view that as tragic.

Adam is such a different story.  Evette, as dorky as she was and clearly still is, was a cool teacher and is probably a good person.  It's not like I would ever go out of my way to avenge her or anything, but seeing as I needed a big ol’ boob to inject someone into and someone to inject into said big ol’ boob…it only made sense to pick them.  Not my fault they just fell into my lap like that.  But it IS absolutely Adam’s fault he’s going to boob-jail.  Length of stay?  We’ll see!  I’m thinking about 3 months though.  According to the Regrowth Probability Function, if you update the value of Si and Sr , Adam’s regrowth percentage will take a lot longer to decay.  It's cause he is like….waaaaaay smaller than Tom so who knows?  Maybe we’ll go super long! :-)

One more funny story; this is definitely a “no one would believe me if I told them” story so I may as well tell it here.  I had just stuffed all Adam’s clothes in my bag and tucked him away in my panties.  I was up and out of my seat as people were coming in to sit down. I made good timing because god knows I wasn’t trying to sit in there and watch that god-awful movie…and then something really interesting happened.  I walked by that girl in the newer movies.  Daisy Ridley.  I only recognized her from trailers I’d see on YouTube ads but she was really pretty.  She had a great smile, a cute face, and a tight little body.

She was finishing off the last of a stack of autographs and she made eye contact with someone in her posse;  I couldn’t tell what she said but I thought she mouthed the word “salad.”  I then saw the girl Daisy had spoken to walking toward the food counter.  Before even asking for it, the girl was handed a prepared salad with a plastic lid overtop.  Instead of walking right back to Daisy, she stayed there at the counter, and then she proceeded to chat with the guy. I don’t know why; he wasn’t even good-looking.  They walked away for a moment, leaving Daisy’s salad sitting there all by itself...

I guess the opportunist in me took over because I started speed-walking over toward the counter.  I couldn’t believe it.  No one was paying attention, no one was watching.  I reached down into my panties and pulled little Adam out. He was still a little wet from the water and…well..let's face it…at this point, a bit of my excitement as well.  I looked at him, passed out and naked in my hand…his muscles were all still there but just way smaller.  I looked him over…and then I looked at the salad.  I had this urge to just…I dunno…just pop open the salad and drop him in.  I wanted to nestle him into that comfy looking bed of greens, mix it up with him in there, and I just wanted that cute Star Wars girl to eat him up!

Can you imagine how crazy that would have been?  I just imagined making sure he was nice and buried in the salad, dressing, and croutons, popping the lid shut and leaving him there.  I even spotted a big comfy chair I could sit in as I watched Daisy open her salad and dig in.  I’m not gonna lie, I may have even decided that I might watch the next Star Wars if for no other reason than to look at her body and wonder where those handful of calories went!

Obviously…and rather anticlimactically, I ultimately decided against it.  There were too many variables.  He was incredibly small so he’d likely slide down her throat whole without even being noticed but what if she felt him? What if he woke up and got her attention before she even started eating?  What if she only ate half the salad and gave the other half to one of her friends? That would have been such a waste.

I stuffed him back in my panties (down the back this time) and took him home with me.  Honestly, as hot as it would’ve been to watch that cute Star Wars girl swallow him, the idea of Adam going into Evette’s boob is just too poetic and appropriate.  As a matter of fact, I’m making quite a sacrifice here!  I really wanted to see him swallowed but I put what I wanted second.  Is this personal growth? I think it may be!

Once we got home, I administered the second, stronger shrinking dose and it worked like a charm! Little Adam got even tinier and kept on going until he was microscopic.  Okay, it's nearly 11PM now and I’m a little exhausted from laughing so hard. I’ve got a lot I have to get done tomorrow before I bring him over to Evette’s house, including refreshing my memory on Polar Coordinates :)

12/13

So Evette’s daughter Jordan is quite a bitch..but then again so am I. Tutoring her is my main excuse for being able to come over and keep an eye on things so I definitely have to keep things civil with her.  The visit went mostly to plan, although at one point Jordan grabbed the syringe without asking and dropped it into her big fat lap.  She’s not fat herself, but her thighs are, and I gotta say there was something so adorable about seeing Adam’s syringe wedged between those thighs.  It was really cute!  She’s still a bitch though.

Everything was pretty routine with the injection itself.  I suggested to Evette that she put the syringe between her boobs to warm up the liquid inside and she actually did it!  I seriously almost started laughing right there, I don’t know how I didn’t break.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like for little Adam to see those big boobs rushing in around him and entirely swallowing him up!  In retrospect, I’d bet it actually helped to mentally prepare him for the real disappearing act. Wow, look at me doing something nice for him…like I said, personal growth.

I think I’ll leave Adam for AT LEAST a month, probably longer, but I’m not going to make the same mistake I made with Tom. I’ll be going over there on a weekly basis to keep an eye on things…and if I see any suitcases or passports, I’ll be speaking up!

12/20

It's been a week since I injected Adam into Evette’s breast and not a whole lot has changed.  I thought maybe Evette might get all slutty and confident like Jeong-Suk did but she isn’t really acting any different at all.  Maybe there are other factors at play. Evette is older than Jeong-Suk and also heavier…maybe that has something to do with it.  It might also have something to do with the fact that Adam is WAAAAY smaller than Tom was.

Today was my first tutoring session with Jordan. She’s one of those girls that just bats her long, pretty eyelashes and shakes her big, jiggly butt and horny boys like Tom trip over themselves to do things for her.  Well, news flash: math doesn’t care how fat your ass is!  Credit where credit is due though, she’s actually picking things up quicker than I thought she would.

I got a chance to finally run the Nanocon functions on Adam’s Nanocon while we were eating dinner.  I forgot to do it last week after injecting Adam.  At first the syncing command wasn’t working and I couldn’t understand why, but then I realized I was trying to run commands on the wrong Nanocon. I was trying to sync with the Nanocon in Jeong-Suk’s boob.  That thing’s long gone haha! Once I actually used the correct Nanocon ID, I was able to get linked to Adam right away. According to the vitals, he was in pretty good shape.  Heart rate and blood pressure were high but normal, nourishment was good, and judging from the pressure value, he was nice and deep in Evette’s tit.  I wanted to talk to him but I’m not sure I could get away with that, although now that I think of it, I could record a message and send it to him….hmm….

01/10

Unfortunately, I couldn’t go and visit Evette during the holidays as they were having family over…and then they decided to travel for New Years to visit a friend of hers so I pretty much had no choice but to wait.  What the hell kind of name is Amina, anyway?  Ugh..whatever.

Since I couldn’t monitor Adam I decided to work on the app some more.  I was able to crack my way into the Nanocon software and code some new functions.  The one I’m most excited about is the Surge functions!  It makes use of an extra nanocapacitor on the Nanocon.  It works in three steps.  First, it collects a charge, then it starts checking for a conductive path from its electrode, through the fat cell lattice structure, and then to Adam.  At that point, it's basically checking for an electric path to Adam.

Obviously, there will be plenty of paths since the lattice structure of the fat cells will be basically hugging him super tight.  However, as they jiggle, jostle, and compress, the paths from the Nanocon probes to Adam will naturally shorten and lengthen. The Nanocon will constantly check for that connection path to be less than 0.000002 Ω about 40 times per second, but it won’t actually do anything until I give the ARM command.

Once it's armed AND it finds a path that meets the resistance minimum, the Nanocon will send a pulse of current into Adam’s body that will cause him to spasm and twitch like crazy. Once he’s twitching, I’m hoping it will inspire a reaction in Evette!  That’s all assuming that it doesn’t kill him…and also that he’s not too tiny, which as I’m thinking more and more about it, he might actually be.

Maybe I was right all along when I shrank Tom. I’m also working on a function for locating him so I don’t have to rely on the compression index to approximate his location in her breast tissue. That’s going to be A LOT of coding though, not to mention I’ll need to design an interface to actually display his location in her tit. That might take awhile.

01/17

Went over for dinner and tutoring again.  I tried the Surge functions but I’m guessing I didn’t code them right.  Either that or I wasn’t close enough to Evette’s tit.  Or Adam is just too tiny. The Nanocon returned all healthy vitals for him right after so I at least know I didn’t kill him.

It's been 2 weeks now and he’s probably having the time of his life in that big soft boob haha!  Speaking of which, I’ve noticed a slight difference in how Evette has been acting ever since before Christmas.  Obviously her little stowaway has something to do with it, but I’m not really sure exactly what.  When I came over, she was wearing makeup as well as some tighter jeans and a slightly revealing top.  Nothing too low-cut, but progress is progress!  I wonder if even just the presence of Adam in her tit is having some kind of biological effect that isn’t even concerned with explicit stimulus.

Oh, I had the funniest dream last night.  It was about Tom.  I dreamt that it was like…20 years from now and he had been in Jeong-Suk’s boob for so long that he actually became fluent in Korean.  Isn’t that hilarious?  Funny little fella. If he can hear well enough from in there, maybe he actually will.

01/30

Okay, it's been almost 2 months now and the progress just isn’t quick enough.  I’m going to extract him next week, grow him back up to the same size that Tom was, and then put him back in her boob.  He’s just too insignificant to have any measurable impact on her, it would seem. You know…I say that, but then again I did notice something interesting this week.

There was another guest that came for dinner tonight; for the first time since I’d been over there at least, someone was sitting in the always empty dining room chair.  I’m not 100% sure, but I think it was the lady that Evette and Jordan went to see for New Year’s. Would you believe that Evette was acting like the biggest flirt I’d ever seen in my life?  She was wearing a friggin spaghetti strap shirt!  Sure, she had a button-up over top of it but still…boobs all over the place.  And I DEFINITELY caught Amina, or whatever her dumb name is, stealing peeks at them. I think there’s something going on with those two.

Anyway, that’s kinda the reason why I’m pulling him out early.  It looks like something could possibly be developing between them, if it hasn’t already, and our little matchmaker needs to be just a bit bigger to have an impact on heating things up between the two of them. This will be the first extraction I’ve done.  Wish me luck!

Adam was jolted awake by a rapid and violent shift in gravity.  A welcome escape from his nightmares…usually laced with him running through jungle floors, trying to evade predator women with comically huge breasts. The pack fought him and each other for the opportunity to stuff him in their glistening cleavage.  He’d whine and whimper…being the weakest prey in the entire world, a world filled with millions upon millions of large-breasted women aching to surround him in their warmth meant he had no natural defense mechanisms.

His instincts ordered him to whine and whimper but, ironically enough, it only seemed to amplify their desires to acquire him. It spoke to his role in this world if his natural instincts heightened the predatory drive of the women.  Some would even reflexively lactate which seemed to be their natural methods of attracting prey like him, a truly vicious feedback loop…and as much as he’d fight the tactic, it worked like a charm.  Each dream usually ended with one of several women winning the fight against the others, and the sweaty champion roughly scooping her trembling, nude, malnourished prize up off the jungle floor.

She’d raise him to her sweaty tit and force his face into her giant, stiff nipple, pumping him full of her breast milk. The victorious predator would force him to make eye contact with her as he accepted the milk down his throat. The defeated women cried in anguish, wanting him so strongly but only able to watch as they licked their wounds.  He’d get smaller and smaller till he could no longer mouth the tit, but the milk would keep coming.

Eventually he’d be so small that the victorious predator no longer supported his bare bottom with her palm, but instead forced his whole body against the tip of her nipple with just a finger…and then he’d be swallowed up into the nipple, sucked up into the narrow channel and delivered into her hungry breast where everything would turn white.  He didn’t have dreams like this before, but now he does…nearly every night…and much to his lament, reality was not all that different.

It must have been the start of a new day.  Adam couldn’t confirm this from deep within his ex-wife’s enormous E-cup breast, but he’d learned over the past few days to read the queues of her movement.  He knew that when he felt the flesh and fat in which he was immersed become extremely compressed, she must have been lying on her stomach.  If the painful compression lasted longer than an hour, he knew she was sleeping.  Other indicators were her heart rate, which was a deafening drum that never stopped, only changed intensity and speed.

Occasionally, he’d hear what he thought was his ex-wife speaking, but there was absolutely no possible way he could hear anything she was saying.  Maybe it was because of how deep he was in her breast tissue or just the fact that he was inside of her at all, but her voice was completely 100% bass.  It sounded like humming.  Based on his sleep cycle, he’d counted at least a few weeks, maybe even longer, and he hadn’t been able to make out even a single word, although he could tell different voices from time to time.

He could really only tell between his ex-wife and his daughter Jordan.  When either of them spoke, it literally vibrated the building-sized fat cells that surrounded him and held him in position.  The rippling through the soft, warm orbs was not nearly as pronounced as when Evette walked but it was still noticeable.  In a pathetic sort of way, he felt happy to be back in his home with his family, even if it was from deep within Evette’s E-cup breast without either of the girls knowing he was there.

Adam learned quickly that movement within Evette’s massive breast was nearly impossible.  He was so small that even the fat cells that made up his ex wife’s fatty breast tissue completely and utterly dwarfed him.  They were also incredibly soft and slippery…they were translucent and practically glistening…there was no way he could gain any traction against them.  It was difficult to tell where he was within her breast, but he didn’t think he was too far from the point at which he was injected.  Adam shivered at the thought, remembering his horrifying journey.

He remembered seeing three sets of beautiful, feminine eyes watching him forced further toward the stem of the thin needle.  The person he saw for the last time before entering was Evette, staring down at him, and then the wide, cylindrical oceanic chamber he’d called home for the day or two prior had narrowed down, but was still massive. Instead of a dark pink hole at his feet, there was now a bright light over his head, and it was getting further away the deeper he was forced along with the surrounding pale pink fluid into Evette.  He’d never forget the warmth that surrounded him the moment he was ejected from the needle’s tip…her body seemed excited to accept him.

Evette was putting her bra on now, so Adam knew that his surroundings would be snug for the rest of the day. He felt his world shift 90 degrees and he knew that she was bending over, probably to put on some stockings or socks or grab something.  Oh, he could hear the sound of nylon against skin, ever so faintly…yup, definitely putting on nylons.  She always looked so good in nylons.  He wished he could see her right now.

Adam thought back to when he shared that room with her. When he shared that king-sized bed with her.  He thought of them cuddling in bed.  He thought of waking her up with breakfast and giving her long foot rubs at the end of long hard days.  He remembered painting the walls light blue shortly after Jordan was born.  He remembered moving that king-sized bed into the bedroom, and he remembered the sins that took place that no one could ever take back. He was back in his home, but in the worst possible way.

He nuzzled into the embrace of the spherical orbs that held him so firmly in place and tried to fall asleep…anything to pass the time.  Eventually, after what felt like a million years, the pressure around him relented.  Evette’s big, dense breasts were loosening, which meant the bra had come off.  His world shifted once more and he struggled to adjust. When her heart rate slowed, he knew another day was gone.  She was sleeping, and he counted her heart beats until he too was asleep.

He couldn’t put the feeling into words but he was starting to develop a closeness with her that he didn’t quite understand.  Sure, he’d always loved her but the feeling of wanting to protect her felt stronger than ever.  He recognized how stupid the idea of protecting her sounded.  He was living in her boob, how the hell would he protect her or anything for that matter?  It didn’t stop him from seething with rage and anger when he heard the bassy female voice that he believed to be Claire…inside Evette’s house.

She was there, eating dinner with his family?  What the fuck was she doing?  What was her plan?  It only reminded him of how completely at her mercy he was.  Part of him prayed that she would remove him but after several hours of not hearing her voice anymore, he realized that his dreams were dashed and Claire had left.  How could he hate someone and simultaneously depend on them so much?

The jiggling and jostling was quite erratic today, whatever day that was.  How many days had it been since she’d worn the nylons? Or when Claire came over? Or when Jordan and Evette were yelling at each other for god knows what? He had no idea.  What day was it? He didn’t know, but things felt different.  Evette was in the car for a long time, and he was pretty sure Jordan was with her.

They listened to music mostly but they also talked.  Sometimes there was laughter but most of the time it sounded serious.  He was always listening…hoping he could make out some words. He wanted more than anything to at least be able to hear what they were talking about…to at least be part of a conversation in some distant way, but he couldn’t understand a single word.  The hardest was Christmas morning.  Partially, because he remembered what day he was injected into Evette’s tit.  It was 12 days ago.

He’d been living in his 37-year old ex-wife’s E-cup breast for 12 fucking days.  How he hadn’t gone insane by now, he had no idea…how he even allowed himself to believe this was possible he’d never understand.  But then again maybe he was going insane.  His recurring dream was getting more and more vivid, and it hadn’t even been two weeks.  What the fuck was he going to be feeling in another 2 weeks?

Despite his lack of ability to resolve human speech, what he did understand was the sound of crinkling wrapping paper and muffled, bassy Christmas music…and the heartbreaking sound of Jordan loving her Christmas with Evette.  He had stupidly decided, way back on the day he ran into Claire at the mall, that he was going to hand deliver Jordan’s Christmas presents.  Now she wouldn't get them.  He wanted to be there, and he miserably pointed out to himself that he actually was there.

Christmas was incredibly hard for him, but things seemed to go back to ‘normal’ after that, but now here they were in the car and they’d been driving for awhile.  Where could they be going?  Evette’s sister lived on the other side of the country, could they be doing a road trip that long?  Fat chance of getting Jordan to sit still that long.  They’d been driving way too long to be going to a restaurant or something.  He was completely perplexed.

They finally got to wherever they were going and Adam heard a strong, loud whooshing sound.  It was Evette putting on her winter coat before getting out of the car.  It was funny, Adam was completely naked and didn't have a coat…nor did he need one.  From his perspective, he’d never even known that cold air existed; Evette’s hefty breast protected him from everything…light, cold air, pride, respect, and especially his freedom.

Adam felt the bass of Evette’s voice.  He imagined that she was telling Jordan to put on her coat as well, but who knew what she actually was saying.  He then heard the bass of her voice again, and the bass of another woman.  It wasn’t Evette’s voice…and it wasn’t Jordan’s.  Could it…no…it couldn’t be her…could it?  Adam felt tears start to form in his eyes and his tiny heart was racing.  He then felt all the fat cells that surrounded him rush in and hug him, as if to comfort him, and he surmised it was because Evette herself was being hugged.  Adam tried to remain calm.

He tried not to jump to conclusions…that was exactly why things ended between him and Evette! One could even extrapolate that it was how he ended up here swallowed up in her breast flesh.  Maybe it was some other family friend, or a visiting aunt.  Hell, maybe it was even Claire.  It sounded sort of like the strange woman he’d heard in his–err–Evette’s home. Even though the thought of Claire being there in Evette’s house with her and her daughter made him want to faint, it was preferable to this. He prayed to God that it wasn’t who he thought it was…he prayed that it wasn’t Amina.

Adam awoke to the start of another of Evette’s day.  Which one?  By his best guess, maybe the 18th or 19th? His stomach rumbled angrily at him.  Adam knew Evette would be on the move soon, and the jiggling did not help with his own morning routine.  He knew he would have to hurry.  He did what he had already realized he would have to do after the first 3 or 4 days trapped in Evette’s breast:  he ate.

What Claire had told him the night he’d been shrunk was seared in his brain.  It didn’t make much sense at the time, but once he was injected and felt himself wedge into the deep, pronounced cleavage of all Evette’s fat cells, and once he felt how soft and gel-like they were…he knew.  For as long as he could, Adam sucked at the pale pink liquid that sustained him while he waited to be injected.  However, from the moment he was injected into Evette’s breast, the fluid had started to dissipate.

By the end of the first day, the sweet liquid was gone and so his hunger began.  At first he remained stubborn. In his weakest moments, he would merely poke and prod at one of the millions of fat cells surrounding him.  It was so warm…so soft, the membrane so thin and translucent he could see the gel-like substance inside.  He couldn’t believe how pervasive his curiosity was.  It was fueled by an increasing hunger, of course, and a rather annoying persistence to try and survive.

He found himself wondering what that gel-like substance would taste like.

He found out on Day 4.  Puncturing the cell membrane with his body was impossible, he was way too small and too weak.  Plus, any time he would push against the fat cell, it would apply equal and opposite pressure on him, forcing his back against the fat cell behind him.  The only thing that worked was using his teeth.  He gnawed at the fat cell’s membrane to reach the sustenance behind the wall.  He felt like a pathetic wild animal.  What disgusted him the most was how pleasant the fat cell tasted.  He’d gotten just enough to satiate him before the cell repaired its membrane and closed up. With a full belly, he cried harder than he ever had since the day he’d been injected. He lost more humanity that day than any day combined.

Adam no longer cried when he ate, but with each progressive feeding session he felt like he was losing more of himself.  What man could hold onto his identity when he’s literally nursing from a single fat cell in his ex-wife’s breast?  Luckily, he’d finished eating just as Evette got her bra on and left her bedroom.  The rest of the day was uneventful.  Random jiggles here and there, sometimes she’d adjust herself and he’d actually feel her monstrously large fingers pressing in against him through the protective cushion of flesh.  It really depended on how strong the jiggling was.

He found that walking jiggles tended to pull him further toward the center of her breast where it was much warmer and more compressed…and things like pressure and hand adjustments would pull him away from the center, where the compression was less extreme and the temperature was ever-so-slightly cooler.  It was more mentally uncomfortable than physically uncomfortable.  To experience such drastic differences over such an extended gradient really just reminded him of how close to nothing he was compared to her.

Today was shaping up to be a pretty miraculously different day though.  Adam had recognized the bass sound that he assumed was Claire, and something was happening.  He heard a strange whirring sound off in the distance.  He’d heard it once or twice before since he’d gotten here.  The noise stood out to him because it was definitely coming from INSIDE Evette’s breast, but what the hell could it have been?  Now, he knew.  He could see its shape through the distorted translucency of the fat cells.  It had several red eyes and it moved like a machine. Graceful and purposeful. Efficient and smooth.  Its chittinous, gray armor glistened with the same lubricant that covered his body.  It terrified him.

The machine looked like it was staring directly at him now, and it chirped several times.  Terrified, Adam tried getting away, but the fat cell lattice structure was having none of that.  The only way Adam was permitted to travel along the structure was if an outside force had created enough of an impact against Evette’s breasts.  The strange machine stared for a few more minutes and Adam heard more voices outside in the real world.  And then, what he saw nearly made his tiny heart leap into his throat.  He saw a narrow beam of light refracting and bending around the translucency of the endless row of fat cells.  It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Oh my god..” Adam cried.  “Is that…”

Adam held out a hand as if he were trying to touch God. It may as well have been.   Or at least it was an instrument of god.  He caught a shimmer of light that bounced off the object approaching him.  It was exactly what he thought it was.  Had it been a month?  It must have been.  It was a syringe.  Adam waived his arms stupidly as if he were a desperate castaway stranded on a deserted island.

The syringe tip was coming straight for him, and it stopped directly overtop of his body.  Adam was sobbing uncontrollably as he felt the suction start to slowly increase.  It was over. It was finally over. Adam felt the neighboring fat cells reluctantly release their grip on his tiny body, and he saw them jiggle spitefully as he passed into the tip.  He couldn’t have been more happy to waive goodbye.  He was coming out. He was leaving Evette’s breast!  He was getting his life back!

Adam hoped that he wouldn’t see Claire on the other side of Evette’s skin.  If she wasn’t there, it would mean that the crazy psycho might have gotten caught and the authorities found out about him.  To his disappointment though, as he was rebirthed into this world through his ex-wife’s curvy bosom, Claire’s piercing blue eyes were the first thing he saw.

Maybe this was a good thing though.  She was the one who shrank him so maybe she was the only one who could bring him back.  He was so excited he actually waved as he was raised to her huge blue eye.  He wanted to hug his ex-wife and his daughter.  He wanted to tell Evette that they should put the past behind them.  They should put Amina behind them.  He wanted to be the man that his girls deserved.  He wanted to get over this. But instead she capped the syringe and he was unceremoniously dropped into Claire’s purse.  It was actually okay with him, all that bright light was giving him a headache, and the stimulation of seeing so many large things around him was making him nervous.  The darkness of her purse was a welcome break.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me?!  I answered ALL your questions about the experience. I lived in Evette’s fucking tit!  I lived in it!  I lived OFF of it! I did everything you asked for and said everything you wanted….and you’re going to put me back in!?!?” Adam wailed like a child, blubbering uncontrollably.

“Well, yeah of course!  We’re not done with the experiment yet!” Claire said, her chin resting on her dining room table, her head was turned and her ear was only an inch or so away from the small tray that Adam stood atop.

“But you took me out!  You saved me!” Adam cried.

“Saved you?” Claire said, leaning back in her chair and letting out a hearty laugh.  “I only took you out so that I could make you a little bit bigger, you goof!  You see, the first guy that I shrunk…Tom…I had actually tried shrinking him to the size that you had been, but I messed up somewhere in the math or the chemistry.  I actually found where that mess up was, by the way, while you were in Evette’s boob.  I’d explain it to you but I know you wouldn’t understand…anyway, after a month of observing Evette, she’s KINDA moving in the direction I’d hoped she would. I’m seeing her being a bit more outgoing and firm.  She’s apparently going out a bit more according to Jordan and even dressing a little better.  Even so, things just aren’t moving fast enough for me.  I’m kinda convinced now that we need to try again, but at this new size.”

“But why? Try what again?” Adam asked frantically after Claire leaned back in to listen for a response.

“Why?” Claire repeated the question.  “I mean…why did I go to that ridiculously dumb Star Wars thing with you when I could have just shrunk you right there in the mall?  Or in your car on the way to the event?  I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with it, but the answer is ‘because it excites me.’”.

Claire was right, the answer did not satisfy Adam, and it made him tremble.

“It's like…that other guy I mentioned…Tom…I injected him into some Korean girl’s boob. Waaaaaay smaller than your ex-wife’s boob, by the way.  You’re living in a friggin MANSION compared to him…but anyway, I noticed that the Korean girl had like…completely changed her demeanor and stuff shortly after I injected Tom into her boob.  She was more confident, more sexually open, and to be honest…a little bit of a bitch.  I wanted to see if the same thing would happen to Evette, and I figured it was another great chance to try and get the reduction scale corrected.  It's so funny to think that maybe I was right the first time. Life is just full of fun little surprises, huh?”

Adam looked around in a panic, but quickly realized that even if anyone else was there..and NOT in on it with Claire, how the hell could they even hear his pleas for help?

“It's gonna be a lot easier for you…ya know?  At this new size?  You said it yourself that you hated not being able to hear what anyone was saying.  Well, news flash…you’re like 20 times larger than you were before so when I put you back in Evette’s boob, you’ll be able to hear people…well, a little bit better at least. But that’s something right? You gotta look at the silver linings here.”

“When do I get to come back out?” Adam asked, afraid of the answer.

Claire took in the question and slowly turned her head to face him.  She simply said, “Uhhh…never?”

He awoke to the sound of girlish giggling.

“Hey, are you awake?  Hahahaha! I think you passed out.  I had to look for my old glasses repair kit to find something small enough to poke you with!” Claire said, laughing.

“Claire, I’m begging you…please don’t put me back.  What do you have to gain from doing this to me? From condemning me to this fate?” Adam tried to reason with her.

“Ummm…lots?  I will tell you, in all seriousness, I thought long and hard about whether or not I’d make your visit to Evette’s boob permanent or not.  I thought about it for over an hour, and this just feels like the right thing to do for everyone, ya know?  Evette especially is better off, especially considering what a cheating loser creep you are.  I don’t really care about that part all that much personally, but that’s definitely a positive for her..not having to worry about you anymore.”

“What? Claire, you don’t–”

Claire had leaned back in her chair.

“...and plus it's fun for me. I mean, it's been..hmm..around 3 months now since I injected Tom into the Korean girl’s boob.  I don't even remember her friggin name anymore…Jing-Ping?  Haha, I have no idea…but you know, they say you never forget your first…and I still think about Tom every now and then.  I mean…just this morning I randomly wondered if airport security would see Tom in the Korean girl’s boob if she went through the x-ray scanner…and if he’d even register as anything but a tiny little blip…I almost shot milk out of my nose!”

Claire looked at her phone screen and then sighed.

“Ugh..it's getting late.  I don’t really have any more time to talk so I think we have to cut this short here. Don’t worry, you don’t have to really…do anything.  All you gotta do is…well…live the rest of your life.  Honestly, you’re gonna be well-fed, well-warmed, and well-protected for the rest of your days.  Some might say you’re making out better than anyone here!”

Claire stood up and Adam sobbed as she sucked him back up into the syringe.  The stem path was noticeably smaller to him now, but still massive, and now he was back in the belly of this beast, set down to be left overnight.

“You know…as I think more about it.” Claire said, her hands on her hips and staring down at him, helpless in the syringe.  “I don’t know why you’re so ungrateful.  A boob is a nice place to live.  There are far worse places.”

Claire then leaned in super close to the syringe, blowing a few loose strands of dirty blonde hair away from her green eyes.  She pressed her lips up against the syringe chamber and gave it a little kiss.

She then whispered, “You know…I dunno if you’ve ever noticed, but Jordan’s got quite the badonkadonk.” Claire purred.

Adam’s eyes widened and Claire smiled deviously.

“You know what that is, right?  Maybe you’d wanna live there instead?”

Adam knew she couldn’t hear him, but he was screaming, pounding pathetically on the clear walls of his temporary prison.

“I’m sure I could convince her to let me do it. She’s not all that smart even though she thinks she is. I could just inject you right into one of her big…bubbly…butt cheeks.” Claire made herself giggle, over emphasizing the ‘b’ sound on each of the fun words.

“They look super soft and spacious.  It's hard to tell for sure, but cheek-for-tit, I think Jordan might actually have her mom beat.  I could inject you nice and deep…maybe into the underside of one of her cheeks, or maybe I’ll part them a bit and put you in closer to her crack!  I’ll bet the temperature would be a lot higher toward the middle! Oh, stop crying!  I promise, no matter where in her big, soft butt cheek I inject you, Jordan will keep you safe and warm.”

“You’d have plenty of room and it would only suck for you when she sat down, right?  Or when she’s going to the bathroom maybe.  Ew! Or when she’s trying to pack her cakes back into those super tight jeans or yoga pants she wears. That’s an awful lot of compression!  Or when someone slaps it…a booty that big commands an awful lot of attention, ya know?” Ohhh ohh! Or if someone were pounding her in the ass! That would be kinda rough for you probably, right?  Do you think she does that?”

Adam was sobbing into his hands.  He was praying to her as if she were a Goddess now.  She essentially was.  This 22-year old psycho had complete and utter control over the rest of his life; whatever she decided was what would happen and he had absolutely no say whatsoever.

“Anything but that, Claire. Please…”

“That’s actually a really interesting idea, the more I think about it.  I’m gonna have to sleep on that…” Claire said, rubbing her chin before heading off to bed.

Five days went by. This time, Adam could tell the days apart because he could see Claire’s digital clock on her stove.  She never once acknowledged him. Adam watched Claire live her life as if he wasn’t there at all.  She watched TV.  She made breakfast in nothing but a towel.  She talked on the phone with her mother or sister.  She painted her toenails, making sure to rest her foot on the edge of the table so that her fleshy sole rose like a mile-high wall over him.  She ate dinner by herself, absentmindedly spinning the syringe as if she were playing spin the bottle. She didn’t speak to him. She barely looked at him. She definitely didn’t tell him whether or not he was going to be injected into his wife’s tremendous tit or his daughter’s gigantic ass cheek.  Those five days in Claire’s apartment were almost worse than the 30 or so he’d spent in Evette.

Once again, Adam found himself stuffed into the blonde’s purse one early morning, and he remained there all day. Once again, Adam consumed the pale pink liquid that surrounded him.  Once again, Adam was pulled out from the purse to see that he was in Evette’s dining room…his old dining room. Once again he saw his beautiful young daughter and gorgeous ex-wife’s faces peering in at him. He waved his arms this time.  He knew he was bigger and thought maybe they’d see him.  They didn’t.

Evette was clearing the table and Jordan was walking toward the laundry room.  Adam was at first terrified to see that Jordan was wearing a super short, very thin pair of hot pink nylon shorts. He was mesmerized and equally disgusted by the way her huge ass shook with each step.  Everything became blurry as he soared through the air.  Almost as quickly as the blur of movement had started, it all stopped and he found his vessel contacting a hard surface.  He looked up through the pale-pink tint to see Claire’s smiling face way further above him than it was before.  In the heavens above him, he saw Jordan come back into view.  She set a water bottle down on the table surface hundreds of feet over his head and then straddled him.

Straddled her chair.

‘Claire…..Claire put me on Jordan’s chair!’

Adam whimpered like the prey animal of his nightmares as the teenager’s huge curvaceous ass plummeted toward him like two hot-pink, planet-cracking asteroids. They expanded and separated as the teen bent at the waist and Adam caught a glimpse of her neat, blonde ponytail bouncing past her shoulders before the lights went out.  Luckily for Adam, Jordan’s ass cheeks carried significantly more cushion than asteroids.  The angle of the narrow syringe conformed immediately to the curvature of the teen’s sizable ass. It grinded against the wooden grain, instantly tracking to position between hot-pink twin planets as the flesh splayed and spilled over the relatively narrow wooden seat like hot pink tidal waves.  The syringe aligned perfectly within the deep, dark valley of Jordan’s ass.

“What the hell is that?!”

At the same moment of Jordan’s very muffled and fair inquiry, Adam’s world abruptly tilted 90 degrees but the lights didn’t come back on.  His entire world was still wedged firmly between Jordan’s huge, now jiggling ass cheeks.

“Jordan, language!” Evette said.

Adam welcomed the invading beams of light as he emerged from the hot pink nylon of his daughter’s shorts.  He saw her face staring down over her shoulder at him, but it was his ex-wife’s hand that was rescuing him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it, and the cap is still on.” Evette said, setting the syringe back down on the table.

“Why would you put that on my seat?” Jordan huffed at Claire, who defensively said, “You weren’t sitting there…and I only set it there for a minute; calm down.”

Was this a preview for things to come?  Had Claire decided to let him get up close and personal with Jordan’s ass from the outside before he spends the rest of his life inside?  That seemed like something the twisted bitch would do.  Adam was frantically trying to accept the fact that he may be spending the rest of his life injected into Jordan's massive ass cheek. He was trying to get to acceptance before the teen hiked down her pink nylon shorts and exposed a bare, smooth, curvy cheek…but it didn’t happen.

Either Claire was joking just to torture him or she really did try to convince Jordan but Jordan said no.  He didn’t know which.

Once again he was lowered to Evette’s chest and stuck between her massive tits.  Once again all the lights went out as her cleavage swallowed him.  Once again, he was confused by how aroused and simultaneously terrified he was.  This time, however, when he was pulled from her deep, warm cleavage, he noticed that Jordan had left the room. This time, Evette had taken off her blouse and her bra.  This time, instead of the inside upper curve of Evette’s right breast, the tip of the syringe kissed the underside of her weighty left breast, only a few inches below the nipple.

Adam stared in awe at the gargantuan nipple, which was actually growing and stiffening in real time as he heard the plunger above him start to descend, preparing to send him on his way.  The first time, he had tried stupidly to swim away from the black hole beneath him.  This time, he knew that it was pointless.  He saved his energy for creating as many final memories as he could of the bright, beautiful world he was leaving.  He passed the plane of the black hole, looking up once more to see Claire’s bright, smiling young face.

“That’s an excellent choice! This is one of our most special, I’d say.” The cashier said with excitement, turning the bottle in her hand to admire the label before scanning.

Evette smiled, “Well, that’s good to know! It's for a very special occasion.”

The cashier set the expensive bottle of wine down and looked up. Evette met her eye line for a moment and the 37 year old counted a full 3 seconds before the cute brunette’s eyes wandered down to Evette’s chest.  She smirked internally, enjoying the fact that even young women couldn’t help but stare.

Evette couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something had happened in the past few months…something deep inside of her.  Her opinions on so many things had changed, mostly on herself.  All of the sudden, it seemed, she enjoyed eyes on her.  She enjoyed the feeling of the steadily warming air against her bare skin.  She wanted to get pedicures and paint her toenails.  She wanted to wear short skirts and show off her thighs, especially when sitting down.  It wasn’t just the world with which she wanted to share her sexuality.  She wanted to experience it herself too.  Before Christmas, she couldn’t have remembered the last time she masturbated…but now, now she was doing it at least every other day…sometimes more!  

Sometimes…albeit rarely for now…not even by herself!

Evette didn’t know where these changes and desires came from, but they felt so, so good.  Maybe she’d suppressed them after “the incident” toward the end of hers and Adam’s relationship.  She’d felt so guilty about what had happened that maybeshe convinced herself that being outwardly sexual was wrong.  Maybe Evette just needed some time to reject that for the bullshit that it was. She was almost relieved to get that letter from him shortly before Christmas.

At first, its brevity was painful, but as time went on she realized that his plans to leave the country without even so much as a goodbye to her or her daughter just indicated to her that everything happened for a reason.  Several times after their separation she’d almost called him…almost begged him to come back.  At one point, she’d pressed 6 of the 7 digits in her phone and was about to hit send…but then Jordan came in the room for something and she lost her nerve.  That was the closest she ever came to trying to resolve all this, and it was clear now from his letter that it was too late.

‘It’s okay though; whenever one door closes…’ Evette thought to herself, getting back into her car and setting the wine bottle on her passenger seat. ‘Another one opens.’

Adam cried for nearly the whole first day.  It started after he’d been discharged from the needle’s wide tip and immediately accepted by the familiar warm, soft, slippery embrace of the immense fat cell lattice structure.  The tears didn’t start until he turned his head, forced to smear his face against one of the spheres as he did so.  It was because he saw something he didn’t see the first time: he saw the syringe leaving Evette’s breast.

Something about watching the device that had put him here leaving…something about knowing it was the only thing that could rescue him…something about seeing it get further and further away.  It was as if a plane had dropped him off back on his deserted island only to take off and leave him.  He cried as the shimmering tip got further away, displaced fat cells jiggling back with a gleeful vengeance into the freshly vacated space the syringe left behind.

The narrow beam of light was at its brightest when the syringe exited Evette’s skin…and he was able to admire the white light for just another few seconds before the white light turned to a deep purple.  It was the shading of Evette’s bra, the large cup encasing her huge breast…his home…now completely concealing his entrance.  In anywhere from a few hours to a day, the barely noticeable pin of an injection point right below her nipple would be healed…and his only exit would be gone.

Could he tell that he was in her left breast this time instead of her right? No.  Could he tell that he was about 20 times larger than he was before?  Very. Much. Yes.  For one thing, he was much closer to the size of the fat cells surrounding him.  They still had him outnumbered by millions to one, sure…but now he was nearly as tall as one of them.  It embarrassed him that this fact made him feel big…as if it were some prideful accomplishment to be as tall as one of the fat cells in his ex-wife’s swollen left tit.

He noticed that he could manipulate the fat cells much easier at this size.  He could traverse and move within the lattice structure, but he was also far more susceptible to the vibrations and reverberating jiggles rampant throughout the structure.  It was still difficult due to how slippery the membranes were so about 40% of his movement, at any time, was completely unproductive.  It was still better than the first time.  Did moving within her tit help him? No, not really.  At his size, it probably would have taken days or even weeks to move from one side of his spherical prison to the other.

It was also worth considering that just a few well-timed bounces would send ripples of pressure and waves of influence throughout the surroundings.  Sometimes it would aid him in his efforts, and sometimes it would cancel out hours of work with the snap of a finger.  There was no rhyme or reason to it.

Something else he noticed almost immediately was that he could actually hear voices!  It wasn’t perfect; a lot of times he could only hear the bass like before.  However, he could catch certain words here and there, and it was way easier to interpret as well.  He could even make out the noises of the world outside a bit better.  Maybe something about being bigger had something to do with the way the sound waves reached him and how he could interpret them.

Sure, it was incredibly painful to hear that monster of a girl Claire chatting with his ex-wife and his daughter mere moments after injecting him into Evette’s breast…but he didn’t feel quite so alone now at least…and he was getting better at picking up context clues and filling in the bassy blanks by the day.  Adam sank back into the rhythm of an existence within Evette’s breast.  There were other things made slightly easier due to his new size…like eating, for example.

He would occasionally hear Claire’s voice so he knew that she was still coming over, presumably to check up on her.  He didn’t know how long he’d been in his ex-wife’s breast, but he had counted about 9 times where he’d heard Claire’s voice.  If she was coming over every week, it meant that he’d been in there for 9 weeks.  Adam miserably came to the realization that he’d broken his previous record. Every new day, for the rest of his life, would be another broken record.

Evette was heading downstairs and much to Adam’s discomfort, she wasn’t wearing a bra.  This was new behavior for Evette as of late, she ALWAYS wore bras…but apparently only sometimes now. He heard Jordan’s voice and then heard it again much closer.  She was saying “I love you” to her mom.  He liked to think she was saying it to him too. Adam felt his surroundings compress and he knew that it was due to the pressure of Jordan’s chest against Evette’s.  He liked to think that she was hugging him too.

Evette took Adam everywhere she went, and now she was taking him into the car.  Where would they go? He had no idea.  He had his guesses.  Guessing was one of two things that helped him maintain a grip on some semblance of sanity. The other thing was counting.

Regarding guessing, being right or wrong added some kind of purpose to his life, even if it was him creating it himself.  He had gotten pretty good at guessing but today, his guesses were all wrong. The car was completely quiet except for the radio so he knew that Evette was alone.  He didn’t hear anything of substance until the engine cut.

He then heard his unaware owner chatting with another woman he didn’t recognize.  It sounded like they were talking about wine. Was it a cashier? He heard beeps and register sounds so it must have been.  Okay, so she was buying alcohol..but why?  Evette didn’t drink.  But then again, she didn’t walk around braless either…

Back in the car, back on the road.  It didn’t last long though.  About 20 minutes or so later, something he could only measure by counting the number of songs that came on the radio, the car stopped again.  He heard the crinkling of the paper bag on her passenger seat hundreds of feet to his left and then his surroundings jiggled and lifted.  Was she…cupping her boobs?  Adam heard the car door slam shut and Evette’s sandals slapping her bare soles.  Then, he heard three loud knocks.  Evette’s heart was going absolutely crazy.  Where was she?  Who was she meeting?

The door opened and he heard Evette’s voice, but it was more of a low, seductive purr.  In response, he heard another woman’s voice.  It was the most horrifying, emasculating, humiliating thing he could have ever heard.  His biggest fear. It was here.  Adam began shaking so profusely, he could see the ripples of his trembles reverberating through dozens and dozens of the surrounding fat cells…and then he felt compression once again, the kind that he’d learned in his experiences came from a hug.  In the heavens above him, he heard soft, wet lips smacking…and her voice.

It was Amina.

Evette knocked on the door three times and waited. She took the time to pull her breasts a bit higher out of her low-cut top and fix her hair. The door opened and there she was.  Evette immediately became flush and her heart started racing.  Amina had that effect on her. She always did.

Her cheeks were flushed and her nipples were hard. With no bra barrier, they jutted out impressively and Evette knew in that moment she’d given up any position of control.  That was okay with her. She liked it when Amina was in control, and from the way Amina was biting her lip and looking Evette up and down, the 27-year old liked it too.

“Hi…” Evette said, rolling her eyes at the silliness of her smitteness, to which Amina giggled.

Amina stepped forward and gently pressed her hips against Evette’s.  Evette was older by nearly 10 years, but Amina carried this mystical wisdom and maturity that had always intrigued Evette.  The 27-year old was, by comparison, young..but she didn’t even appear to be 27. Perhaps it was her angelic face and big, soft lips.  Maybe it was her perfect symmetry.  Maybe it was the way her hourglass figure, and the way her narrow waist widened artistically into slim but seductive hips. Evette allowed her hands to wander down to those hips.  They were much more narrow than hers.  Evette’s curves had become more pronounced over the years and it thrilled her that Amina still found her attractive.  Evette felt her lower lip sucked between Amina’s and gently nibbled.

“Hi, yourself.”

“Any updates?” Evette asked the moment the kiss was finally broken.

Amina’s brow furrowed slightly and she stared into Evette’s eyes…allowing a pause pregnant with tension.  Evette would never forget the feeling of exhilaration she felt when Amina’s brow unfurrowed and her pouty lips curled on either end.

“Uh-huh.” Amina said, nodding her head up and down slowly.

Evette could have cried at that moment.  “Really?”

Both women clasped hands at waist height as Amina replied, “My landlord let me out of the lease.  I’m officially outta here by the end of the week.”

Evette’s smile was so big she could barely contain it.  “Amina, that’s so wonderful!”

Amina grinned, “Yeah, but the only problem is that now I have nowhere else to go.”

Her cute grin turned to an over-emphasized adorable pout.

“I kinda wish I had a sexy, successful, curvy girlfriend who would let me come stay with her.”

Evette’s smile weakened. She released Amina’s hands and the moment became tense and serious.  The 37-year old placed her hands on Amina’s waist and gently pulled her back toward her again.  Evette was close enough to smell Amina’s cool minty breath and they stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

“You will not be staying with me…” Evette said, leaning in and pressing her forehead against Amina’s. They wrapped their arms around each other right there on Amina’s apartment steps.

“WE will be living TOGETHER.” Evette whispered.  Amina smiled and Evette’s heart was beating so fast she thought it might melt.

“I owe you so many apologies.  Ever since I was a little girl, I had this idea of what was expected of me.  I tried to fight for that ideal.  I thought I was fighting for Jordan. I thought I was fighting for normalcy…and I even thought I was fighting for Adam…but in reality, I wasn’t fighting for anything.  I was only fighting against myself, and I’ve won for years.  I’d gotten so damn good at it, Amina. The only times I could EVER lose was with you.” Evette said, her eyes welling up.  She continued.

“...and I did lose.  I lost on that incredibly special night, and it was the most memorable, important night of my life.  I never stopped thinking about it.  I reflect on it so differently now than I did when it happened and even as recently as last year.  When I lost that fight, I lost Adam.  I couldn’t blame him; the poor man literally walked in on you and I…naked in our marital bed with you on top of me.  I tried to stop him and tell him it wouldn’t happen again, but he wouldn’t listen.  All he said was that it was over.  I tried so hard to get him back.  I tried appealing to his humanity and our history. I am not proud to admit I even tried to manipulate him with the well-being of our daughter…who I knew in my heart was old enough and would be fine.  He would have none of it, and I had to find a way to be okay with it even though I felt I never would be…but now…”

Evette nuzzled her nose against Amina’s and gently kissed her lips.

“...I’m over it.  I am so fucking over it.  I’ve been so selfish, Amina.  I shouldn’t have pushed my feelings for you aside to try and repair something with him.  I ABSOLUTELY shouldn’t have pushed you away even after the separation and divorce as I stupidly hoped he would take me back.  I’ve realized, hopefully not too late, that I don’t want him back. I never did.  That ‘fuckup’ between you and I was the best thing I’ve ever done.  I don’t want anything to do with him anymore.  And it's not because I hate him, I wish him well on his journey through life wherever it ends up taking him.  He’s the farthest thing from my mind right now, and he’ll only get farther with each passing second.  I guess what I’m trying to say is….I am so excited to start my journey with you.  I want to spend the rest of my life turning my house into our home…and making up for the time we lost.”

Amina didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but her eyes were welling up too.

“I love you so much…” Amina said, her voice cracking.  The 27-year old brunette’s hands rose up from Evette’s wide waist and up her soft protruding chest.  They continued up to her collarbone and neck, further up to her face.  Amina caressed Evette’s face and cupped her cheeks, gently pulling her in for a deep, sensual kiss.  A few seconds later Amina was stepping backward, keeping Evette’s face pulled tightly against hers. The two women broke the plane of Amina’s apartment door.  Evette clumsily dropped the bottle of wine onto a nearby sofa and Amina kicked the door shut.

Adam was hard-pressed to think of a situation that would fill him with more despair than the one transpiring right now.  Evette, the love of his life, was pouring her heart out to the woman with whom she’d cheated on him with. Evette was proclaiming her love to this fucking homewrecker.  Adam was there, cursed with the size to hear and understand most of the conversation.  Even though he knew he was far too small to ever be heard, he pitifully screamed and wailed in agony.

He begged Evette as a woman to take him back.  He begged her as a Goddess to have mercy on him.  He begged for an end to this.  He begged Amina to say no…or to leave…or to die.  He would have even settled for the homewrecker killing him.  She basically already was killing him, as far as he was concerned.  None of his pleas or prayers were answered though.  Instead, the heavens sounded off again with an explosion of soft, succulent lips locking with much more intensity than before.  He heard the loud thud of a door slamming shut and the chunky thud of a deadbolt activating.  They were inside Amina’s apartment….HE was inside Amina’s apartment.

Evette’s heart had never beat this fast or this strongly before, and it killed Adam to know that not only was it beating this way for Amina, but he was so close to it he could literally feel it vibrating his bones.  The love that Evette had for Amina was physically and literally hurting his small, frail, pitiful body.  Adam heard buttons snapping and zippers unzipping.  He heard more kissing and then his world violently rotated and bounced.  Adam knew that Evette was now on her back.

Evette’s big, heaving bare breasts bounced with tremendous, energetic force as she fell back onto Amina’s twin-sized bed.  She cupped them for a moment, pressing them together and forming deep, eye-commanding cleavage as she watched Amina seductively undress.  She was more slender than Evette and more tan.  As Amina removed her red dress, Evette couldn’t spot a single tan line.

The bed groaned as Amina pressed a knee down into the mattress on one side of Evette, and the other knee on her other side.  Both Amina and Evette were now completely naked, and Evette stared up in awe.  Her breasts deformed in shape and hung down by her sides as she released them, repositioning her hands on Amina’s narrow waist  Amina began gently rubbing her hips into Evette, slowly but thoroughly.  She appeared to be in a trance, she worked so precisely and rhythmically.  Amina ran a well-manicured finger over Evette’s soft stomach and then shifted her body weight to be lower, planting a light kiss where she’d just touched.

“I can’t believe this is all mine…” Amina whispered.

Evette groaned, “I love that it's all yours; it's always been yours.”

Amina continued kissing further down Evette’s stomach.  She felt fire between her thighs and Amina was doing nothing to put it out. In fact, the fire was only burning brighter and stronger as Amina kept kissing, now planting her lips appreciatively on each of Evette’s thick inner thighs.  Evette let out an audible moan when she felt her thick, plush lips slip into Amina’s mouth.

She peered down, over her rising and falling breasts to see Amina hard at work. The love of Evette’s life pulled those sensitive lips into her mouth, rolling them on her tongue, and varying her sucking pressure.  Soon, Amina was paying special attention to Evette’s clitoris, sucking and gently licking at the perfect frequency and pressure.  It was like Amina could see into her heart…into her soul.

Evette didn’t even know how to process the feelings of pleasure, relief, and satisfaction that were coursing through her veins. She squeezed her breasts HARD and experienced a sudden and abrupt spike in pleasure and resolve.  Then her hands wandered up her chest to her hair.  Evette felt her swollen clit escape Amina’s warm, hot mouth and Evette reflexively shut her large pale-by-comparison thighs in and around the 27-year old’s head, not at all okay with this ending just yet.

“It's okay…” Amina giggled, her speech adorably manipulated by the pursing of her lips due to the thigh compression around her face, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Evette lost count of how many times she came.  It was over..and over..and over..and over again.  Each time she would finish, Amina would nurse her through the afterglow of her orgasm, gently kissing her sensitive pussy lips and stroking her thighs. After Evette caught her breath, the sensitive kisses would turn into a sloppy yet romantic, passionate makeout session between her thighs.

Soft fingers stiffened and curved at the precisely perfect moments, exploring the full circumference of Evette’s wet vagina.  It just kept happening and Evette never wanted it to end.  The only reason she was okay with Amina stopping was because Evette was excited to return the favor.

Seven times.  She had cum seven times.  Counting was his number 2 thing, and he counted Evette’s delighted and pleasurable squeal as an orgasm.  It was a sound he hadn’t heard too often when he was with her, but now he was hearing it over and over and over again.  Her insides were boiling.  He felt like he was in a mosh pit, getting crowded and abused by her millions of fat cells.  He knew that either Evette or Amina was roughly grabbing Evette’s breasts.

He didn’t know who it was but the effect was all the same.  Extreme compression and displacement.  At one point, he was even sure that the woman’s thumb was directly over him, and the fingers wrapped in underneath.  For a second, he felt like they were touching him…if it was Evette he’d almost welcome it.  If it were Amina he’d want to die.

The jiggling and squeezing continued, each pulse shifting his body amongst the lattice structure. Adam noticed in horror that each shift and bounce was actually pulling him further away from the dark center of Evette’s huge tit.  He knew because he could hear the moaning women and the wet sounds with much more clarity.  The fluid surrounding him was slightly cooler as well.

Everything rotated again now as Evette was clearly adjusting her position. After a bit of noise and skin against fabric, Adam could tell that Evette’s breasts were dangling freely.  She was probably on her hands and knees straddling the lucky Amina.  Then, he heard Amina’s voice VERY close.  He started crying, trying to get away from the impossibly large woman but for every millimeter he traveled, the groping of Evette’s breasts pulled him back by what felt like miles. He was so close to the surface…the compression so sparse…it sounded like Amina was right there.  The kiss he’d heard her plant on his ex-wife’s left breast was so astoundingly clear.  It was the clearest thing he’d heard since entering his new home and it destroyed him.

“Please just let me get away from this.”  Adam wasn’t even begging for his freedom anymore. He just wanted to get further away from the love of these women.  The gods or goddesses weren’t allowing that to happen.  Gentle kissing sounds turned into greedy sucking.  The suction was actually pulling him along the lattice structure until he felt something he hadn’t felt yet: Evette’s skin.  He was pressed firmly against it from the inside.  He knew that he must have been incredibly close to Evette’s nipple because he heard Amina’s deep moan transform and deepen with bass as if he was inside of the homewrecker’s mouth.

She’d just placed Evette’s nipple, and technically Adam between her big, pouty lips.  Adam didn’t even know it was possible, but all he could smell was mint.  Somehow the homewrecker’s breath was permeating Evette’s skin.  Maybe it was going in through the nipple and diffusing into his surroundings?  He didn’t know, but it only emasculated him further.  He was covered in the fluids of his ex-wife’s fat cells in her breast, and now he was surrounded by the breath of her new lover.  He wondered if he’d ever be able to get an erection again, and he cried realizing he’d probably never need to.

Adam could feel the occasional poking and prodding of Amina’s tongue through Evette’s skin.  It bullied him and hurt him, and part of him hoped she’d feel him.  She was the alpha.  This short woman who he’d only seen with his own eyes once or twice…this cute young girl who had barely come up to his chest as she ran past him in HIS white bath towel after being caught fucking his wife, had completely ruined his life without even realizing it…with the help of Claire of course.

For a moment, he felt again like the helpless prey animal in his dreams…an apex predator in her late twenties curiously poking and prodding around the breast that had swallowed him…although this was reality.  The apex predator wasn’t looking for him nor did she care about him…nor was she even aware of him.

Just the thought of his existence being acknowledged would have been enough to sustain him through this nightmare. It didn’t seem like she did though because nothing changed.  Well, something changed.  Once Adam heard the sound of Evette’s soaking wet nipple popping out of the 27-year old’s mouth, he heard Amina’s voice and giggling get further away.  Evette was adjusting her position.  Now, the minty smell of Amina’s breath was replaced by a new smell.

The smell was primal and thought-clouding.  It was earthy and musky.  It drove him crazy, but not in a good way.  Tears were flowing down his cheeks as they made love, but an onlooker–assuming they could even see him at his pitiful new size–might have just thought the glistening fluid all over his face was the copious lubricant of the neighboring fat cells or perhaps the condensed moisture of the homewrecker’s breath.

“You like that baby?” Evette purred. Adam felt Evette’s hands grasp his home and squeeze it, manipulating it, and jiggling it.

“Oh fuck yes!” Amina said. Evette leaned in closer and gently pinched Amina’s pussy lips together, gently massaging and rolling the 27-year old’s clit.  Evette teased her nipple against Amina’s clit, watching both stiffen and expand before her eyes.  Amina was now subtly rocking her hips, increasing the pressure and friction between the two super sensitive anatomies.  Evette allowed the full weight of her fleshy left breast to deform against and sink between Amina’s tan thighs.  The voluptuous breast behaved like a thick, viscous liquid filling the atypical shape between Amina’s legs and Amina gasped.

Amina was now rocking her hips with increasing intensity, literally fucking Evette’s super doughy, super soft, super dense left breast. The 37-year old was soaking wet and so was Amina. Evetter did her best to stabilize her jiggling, bouncing tit to allow for friction, her fingers nearly turning white from the pressure applied to the unruly flesh.  A rumble deep in Amina’s throat started to grow and Evette gasped as Amina came so hard her body tightened…her toes curled, and she cried.  The 27-year old thrusted her hips into the massive, jiggling sphere of flesh, feeling that wonderful nipple and all the wonderful tissue attached to it. Evette was consumed in the waves of love and passion rippling through her voluptuous breasts as she watched Amina’s adorable toes curl.

When all was said and done, Amina’s sheets were drenched, and Evette’s left breast was soaked.  A gasping Amina pulled Evette up to her face, planting a sloppy kiss on her lips. She kept pulling, allowing Evette’s wet and glistening, dangling left breast to collapse gently on and conform sublimely to Amina’s face.  Amina lapped and sucked at the breast, dutifully cleaning her orgasm from the heavy tit while Evette bit her lip and pressed her forehead against the headboard.  The two women’s nude, sweat-glistening bodies were basked in the glow of moonlight.  They laid there in Amina’s twin bed, hair in tangled messes stretched out over their shared pillow. They laid chest-to-chest, holding each other and talking about their future together until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

~

Injected: Claire's Mammary Experiment

Chapter 11 - Claire Laurier: Homewrecker or Matchmaker?

[Claire]

“Seriously, how hard is a hibiscus cooler?  Is this your first day or something?” Claire said, rolling her eyes and setting the cup on the counter.

“Umm…well, yes it is.” The nervous redhead said, blushing from behind the counter.

“Well go get someone who knows how to make drinks…Jeez.” It looked like the redhead might start crying as she went to go get someone.  Claire wasn’t interested in waiting so she turned from the counter to find a seat and immediately threw her hands up in the air.

“What the fuck is wrong with today?” Claire said exasperated.

Not only did the lanky redhead fuck up her drink, but there was a couple sitting at her favorite table near the window.  Claire got closer, her upper lip curling in disgust.  One of the women had huge tits practically out on display but that was just about all Claire could see. The woman’s face was blocked by the back of someone else’s head.  Claire was about ready to tell them to get a room when the full head of brunette hair retreated from “Miss Big Boob’s” face and her eyes widened.

“Evette?” Claire said in disbelief.

Evette broke eye contact with the woman practically sitting on top of her and made eye contact with Claire.  She first looked surprised, then for a second embarrassed, then she started laughing.

“Oh, hi Claire.”

Claire’s look of disbelief very quickly turned to a devilish grin.  She took a seat with the two women.

Evette broke the silence, clearly trying to keep things from getting too uncomfortable although, much to Claire’s delight, it seemed unavoidable.

“Claire, this is Amina.  Amina, this is one of my old students.”

“It's nice to meet you.” Amina said with a friendly smile.

Claire remembered her from one of Evette’s dinners but it was more fun to pretend that she didn’t.

“You know how Jordan was doing so well with school that she was able to actually finish her senior year early and now is more certain than ever that she wants to go to college?   It's all thanks to Claire’s tutoring, and not to mention what a good role model she’s been.” Evette said, beaming proudly about Claire’s impact on their family.

Claire smiled politely and accepted the praise graciously, but she didn’t really care about any of that.

“So how did you two meet?  Is this your way of getting back at Adam for cheating?”

The two women cringed reflexively.  Claire’s aptitude for social interactions was often hit-or-miss, and she’d missed here but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to find out what was going on.

“Well, I don’t know if I’d describe it that way.” Amina said, a little indignant.  Claire assumed that Amina was offended at the idea of being a rebound girl.  Evette set a hand on Amina’s shoulder and sighed.

“No, it's not a “get back at Adam'' kind of thing.  I haven’t seen or heard from him in months and I suppose I don’t expect to.  I am not exacting revenge because there’s no revenge to be had.” Evette said, looking at Amina and smiling.

“Uhhh…he cheated on you though.  And you’re not still mad about that?” Claire said.

“He didn’t cheat on me.  I cheated on him.” Evette said reflexively.

Claire’s eyes widened again.  She looked from Evette to Amina and then back to Evette.

“Wait….you cheated on HIM?  With HER?” Claire said in a hushed tone, pointing toward Amina.  Evette nodded her head.

Everyone in the coffee shop stared as the dirty blonde erupted in bellowing laughter.  “So he wasn’t even unfaithful?  He didn’t do anything wrong?” Claire managed to ask through bouts of hysterical, red-faced laughter.  Evette and Amina were getting uncomfortable and she saw Evette mouth something to Amina, which seemed to remove some of the anger from Amina’s eyes.

“What the hell is so funny?” Amina said, her arms crossed over her modest breasts.

Claire finally calmed down, wiping the tears from her eyes.  “Oh no, nothing about you guys. You guys are fine.  I’m just laughing at something else entirely.”

Claire somehow found it in herself to stop laughing and clear her throat sternly.

“Seriously, you guys are awesome.” Claire said with a sincere smile.

“Here’s your hibiscus drink.  Is everything alright over here?”

It was one of the more senior coffee shop employees; she looked concerned and annoyed with Claire’s outburst.

Claire looked once at Evette and then down at her huge right tit, which was subtly pressing against Amina’s arm on the table.  She then looked back up at the coffee shop employee.  “Yeah everything's fine

here.  Just catching up with my friends. I’ll try to keep it down.”

Claire took a sip. It was made correctly. She spoke again,

“You two are adorable. Seriously. And I am so happy for both of you for finding each other.  Honestly, I think the best way to describe this WHOLE situation could seriously just be that one word….adorable.”

They said their goodbyes, as somewhat awkward as they were, and Claire made sure to give Evette a very big hug. She informed the two that she would be traveling for some exciting new research opportunities, and she left it at that. Evette and Amina didn’t ask any questions but they wished Claire the best.  As Claire was leaving, she heard Amina whisper, “So its Aspergers?  Or Autism?”

“Oh, who knows…but she’s a good girl.” Evette whispered back.

Claire smiled and left the coffee shop, sipping her hibiscus drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“...and it was John F. Kennedy who said in his 1963 Commencement Speech, and I quote: ‘Our problems are man-made.  Therefore, they can be solved by man.  And man can be as big as he wants.’  I know all of you will approach your problems with…”

‘Good god, what a stupid friggin quote.’ Claire thought, trying not to choke on its thick, dripping irony.  It was a hot June day and while she was uncomfortably baking in the bleachers, it was worth it to steal the occasional glance at Evette’s chest.  With fascination, Claire watched beads of sweat glide over the skin and plummet into her deep, exposed cleavage.  Each one of those drops may as well have been several olympic sized swimming pools to the poor soul inside that colossal, compressed, sweaty tit.

Claire had received an unexpected call from Evette a month earlier.  Despite the years that had passed, she recognized Evette’s voice immediately.  Her first impulse was to think of Adam and she couldn’t help but smile.  Apparently, Jordan was graduating from college and Evette’s exact words were “Since you played such a significant part in Jordan’s decision to go to college, we would all be honored if you could come.”

Claire had to do some shuffling with her schedule and make some fast flight plans, but she wouldn’t miss this for the world.  Not because she particularly cared to see Jordan graduate. It was because it had been over 4 years since Claire had injected Adam into Evette’s left boob.  She’d spent many a daydream pondering his existence, as well as Tom’s, of course.  You never forget your first, but the difference is that even after all these years, she still did know where Adam was and how to find him.  She’d be a fool not to take this opportunity to check up on them and see how Evette was doing as well. There was also something else she wanted to do, but she’d need to convince them to let her sleep over.

“Okay, now a picture with Amina!” Evette shouted excitedly.  All around them were the bright colored figures of family members and black caps and gowns worn by proud college graduates. One of them was Jordan, now hugging cheek to cheek against Amina, both joyfully saying ‘cheese’ for the camera.  Claire kept waiting for someone to mention Adam, surely Jordan would ask where her dad was, right?  The graduation ceremony came and went, but much to Claire’s disappointment, his name didn’t escape the lips of any of the three women.  He truly was out of the picture, or so they all thought. None of them wondered where he was, and she was the only person…literally THE ONLY PERSON in the entire world who knew where he was.  What a feeling that was…

The alarm on Claire’s watch silently vibrated against the inside of her right wrist and her eyes slowly opened.  It was 11:30PM.  It was time.

She pushed the light blankets off her body and sat up on Evette and Amina’s living room couch.  The room was pitch black with the exception of some cascading moonlight and a lone streetlight. Claire uncomfortably tugged at her pink and purple flannel pajama bottoms and small, black shirt.  She had gotten in the habit of sleeping naked since she moved out west and she briefly considered doing the same here. She ultimately decided against it; she couldn’t risk one of the three girls coming downstairs and seeing her naked so she had begrudgingly dressed for bed.

Claire reached for her backpack, which was fit with a security combo lock.  She unlocked the bag and she felt around, searching for something she’d brought just for this occasion.  She felt around, worrying for a moment that she might have forgotten it, but then her fingers recognized the cylindrical tube right underneath her journal.  The tube was a solid pale pink with bright blue chinese symbols printed in a flashy, eye-catching pattern. She didn’t know exactly what the writing said, but Claire was very familiar with what it did.

She quietly crept upstairs, avoiding loud creak spots she’d identified when she got there earlier that day. She knew from conversation that both Evette and Amina were incredibly heavy sleepers, but she couldn’t risk waking up Jordan.  She managed to avoid all but one creaking step but after a few moments of holding her breath in silence and listening, Claire decided she was in the clear and continued up.

She carefully opened the bedroom door and saw the two women intertwined with each other atop their luxurious master bed. The blankets covered them from their necks to their calves, but Claire could easily tell that they were spooning, Amina being the big spoon.  As she quietly snuck closer to the bed, Claire noticed that even their bare feet were snuggling tightly and affectionately with each other.  Okay, that was actually pretty cute.

Without a sound, the sneaky blonde sat down on her sock-clad feet at Evette’s bedside.  The 41-year old woman was dead-asleep, the streetlight and moonlight casting a mixture of dull yellow and white light on her pale face, subtle hints of pink mixed from the reflection off the pale pink-painted walls of the bedroom.  Evette slept on her side, her right side smushed into the side of her velvet pillow with Amina’s face nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Both women looked so happy and so peaceful.  Very carefully, Claire began to tug the blanket down, slowly exposing more and more of Evette’s ample bosom.  She wore a violet spaghetti strap nightgown that showed off an incredible amount of cleavage. Not only that, but since she was on her side, her hefty left breast was passing the full burden of its significant weight to its twin sister, which was splaying and deforming under the pressure. This was perfect; Claire was expecting to have to risk reaching in with her fingers and removing Claire’s right tit but there was plenty of exposed flesh.

‘Good thing she liked showing off her boobs so much now.’

Claire lowered the brightness on her phone all the way down and opened her app.

The blonde tilted her head in confusion for a moment, staring at the screen and then it dawned on her.  She hadn’t deleted the linking arguments for the last injection she’d done.  No duh, she was too far away from that Nanocon.  It was all the way over on the west coast in some big-titty bimbo with way too much of daddy’s money to spend.  She silently chuckled to herself, clearing the command line and updating the arguments.

“Wow…” she whispered.  1,581 days.  Claire briefly reflected on how much she’d experienced in the past 1,581 days.  How much she’d accomplished, how much fun she’d had.  The high points, the low points.  The challenges…the triumphs…and for all that time, Adam was right here all along.

‘Awwww’, she thought.  ‘He’s nice and relaxed in his big, soft sauna…’

Claire removed the small cylindrical tube from her flannel pajama pants pocket along with a single-finger glove.  It was a special protective sleeve meant to go over just one finger, and it was of ferophobic material, meaning it would influence metal objects away from it.  She popped open the tube of the chinese product and squeezed. A single, half of a pea-sized droplet of the cream fell onto an exposed section of skin on the sleeping beauty’s left breast.  Immediately after, Claire pressed down lightly with her gloved finger, completely sealing the cream with the bordering edges of her fingertip and then gently rubbed.  She had to press hard enough so that her finger would seal around the cream and form a dome, applying inward force against the cream. Luckily, the pressure didn’t wake Evette.  Claire dropped the single-finger glove into a small ziplock baggie and put it along with the tubing back in her pocket.  She gave the cream about 30 seconds to sink in and then Claire went back to her phone.

Claire started typing the next command when she heard bedsheets shuffling.  She whipped her head up quickly from her phone to see Amina was just readjusting.  She could see the brunette beauty was just getting more comfortable, her manicured fingers gripping Evette’s wide left hip to pull herself closer to her lover’s ass.  Claire stared straight-faced…until finally Amina achieved the comfort she was looking for and returned to a motionless state.  The determined Claire returned to her phone.

The cunning blonde smiled big as her improved application switched to a JPEG image.  It was a color map of Evette’s left breast, generated by the Nanocon using sonar and thermal imaging.  It not only provided a visual indication of where Adam was within Evette’s expansive boob with respect to her nipple, but it also told her how close to the surface he was.  She couldn’t believe how lucky she was…Adam was incredibly close to the surface, and not only that, but he was along the inner slope, about 3 inches worth of linear curve away from the nipple toward her profound, inviting cleavage.  Claire looked from her phone screen to Evette’s swollen chest, and she could literally see the exposed flesh of Evette’s breast where Adam was suspected to be located.

She knew it would be risky, but what was she risking, really?  A friendship with Evette and her family?  This was way more important.  Claire sat up off her feet and brought her face closer to Evette’s pale, moonlit cleavage.  She was close enough now that she could smell lilac and faint perspiration.  She allowed the tip of her cute nose to gently graze Evette’s left nipple and she continued moving in further until her mouth was directly over Adam’s presumed location.

This was working out even better than Claire could have hoped.  She recorded a message in advance to send to Adam, not expecting to get an opportunity for him to actually hear her voice up close, but this was that opportunity.  She smiled and closed her eyes, imagining what he might be thinking as she whispered,

“Hi, Adam.”

She then planted a super gentle kiss on Evette’s breast, hoping that she might have felt his shape in the flesh, but she didn’t.  It was okay if she didn’t feel him…she knew that he felt her.

Luckily, Evette only stirred slightly, but Claire saw the sleeping beauty’s closed eyes dancing from under her eyelids, and the corners of her lids wrinkled as she squinted.  Claire’s hand rushed to her mouth to conceal a giggle.  She was convinced now that Adam had heard and maybe even felt her, and he probably started freaking out and struggling, which right before her very eyes was arousing Evette.  Confirming Claire’s suspicions, Evette sleepily shifted her lower body, backing her wide hips into Amina. As funny and adorable as this all was, Claire realized she had to be quick if she wanted to send that pre-recorded message.

Evette let out a high pitched moan from her nose, humming in a half-dreaming pleasure and now rhythmically rocking her ass back into Amina’s crotch.  A well manicured hand rose from Evette’s satin-clad hip and Amina cupped her partner’s spherical left breast.  The cushiony breast conformed around Amina’s small fingers and the shadows grew between each digit as the soft flesh bulged between them. Each time Amina squeezed, her fingers disappeared behind the displaced, protruding cushion and then they reappeared when she loosened her grip.  Claire really had to hurry.  She quickly brought her phone right up near Amina’s groping hand.

Claire quietly jumped up to her feet and walked briskly but silently out of the room.  She’d just gotten to the other side of the door when she heard the bedsprings.  Unable to help herself, she peeked back into the room just long enough to see Amina now straddling Evette.  Amina was lying on top of her, actually,. The women’s breasts were compressing together as they passionately made out.  Claire tried not to laugh, imagining what it must be like for Adam.  Still, Claire was a little disappointed.  She wanted to do a vital check again after he’d heard her voice, and especially right now…just to get an idea of what he was going through…but you can’t always get what you want.

Claire made her way back downstairs and froze when she entered the living room. Someone was there in the dark, rooting through her backpack!  The dark figure was squatting down…each of her broad, shapely ass cheeks packed tightly into a pair of fuzzy polka dotted pajama bottoms, and they were resting atop arched bare heels.

“What the fuck?” Claire said in a hushed tone.

Jordan looked over her shoulder, smiling.  She was holding Claire’s lab journal. She started to read out loud:

“...so not only did I inject him directly into one of her milk ducts, I actually convinced her to start taking lactation supplements!  I knew what that meant for him but seriously, it was sooooo worth it.”

“You need to put that down…right now.” Claire growled.

Jordan set the journal back into the backpack, zipped it up, and locked the combo lock. She turned back to face Claire.  The draw strings of her pajama bottoms swung like twin pendulums below her exposed midriff.  The college grad sat down on the loveseat across from the couch and crossed a thick left thigh over an equally thick right thigh. Jordan crossed her arms over her modest chest and smirked, raising a devilish brown eyebrow.

“Okay.  I put it down. Now…tell me all about this injection stuff…”

Claire initially looked furious, but her face slowly softened into a cute but devious grin.

THE END