Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 1 - A Late-Evening Meeting

[Amina, Claire]

Prologue:

After pouring the last swish of beer foam into the grass, Liam extended his empty red solo cup out to a pledge who happily added another tick mark to its side.  Liam’s eyes were already wandering over to the girls making out by the pool, and he absent-mindedly spilled some of his beer moments after receiving it upon the diligent pledge.

“What the fuck, man?” Liam growled angrily, seeing that at least 2 mouthfuls of Yueng-Ling had swished out onto the pledge’s bare, markered and lip-sticked chest.

“Sorry, sir.” The pledge said, apologizing not for an infraction as it was clear the pledge had done nothing to cause the spill.  Instead he apologized aimlessly for Liam becoming upset.

Liam did not accept the apology.

Instead, Liam demanded that the pledge scribble out the tick mark on his solo cup. He also intimidated the pledge to scribble in his own initials to verify the mistake, something he’d certainly pay for later.  It sucked for the pledge, but there was no way Liam was going to let that count as a full beer.

The night went on with Liam and the other seniors at the top of the world and the top of their game.  A few hours after the sun went down, Liam’s roommate Jake showed up, his arm wrapped around a girl that Liam nor anyone else had ever seen before.

“Who’s your friend, she’s cute!” Liam shouted over the music.

“Yeah, don’t tell her that. It’ll go straight to her head!” Jake shouted back, and the cute, short girl giggled and patted Jake playfully on his chest.

Liam followed up, “Where’d you find her?  She got a friend?”

Jake chuckled, “Nah bro.  She’s from out of town, visiting her sister or some shit.”

“Or some shit? Haha!” the blonde laughed.

“Well, where’s her sister? Tell her to come on out?” Liam put his hands up, rocking his body gently to the bassy music.

“She’s in her 40’s…you wouldn’t like her.” the blonde replied with a playful smirk.

“Alright, alright! Loud and clear.”

Liam might have reminded his roommate that he indeed had a girlfriend, a pretty fucking hot one at that..huge ass, great tits, and a fiery personality, but Liam barely expected Jake to make it the rest of the night without puking, let alone bed this girl playing with her sandy, brownish-blonde hair.

Jake sure was drunk, which was not unlike him when he partied, but the night was still so young..and his slur was exceptionally strong.  The girl on his arm seemed to have a good head on her shoulders though, and Liam felt comfortable letting her babysit him so that he could properly enjoy the night.

The party sustained at around an 11 on intensity for hours after midnight, and even as the sun threatened to rise the party was clinging to life.  The last of the girls went home, and that was enough queue for the remaining boys to go back, too.  Liam woke the pledges who had fallen asleep in chairs by the kegs. He sent them to their rooms and then he himself returned to his own.

Liam unlocked the door and hung his keys up.  The key rack was made of thin metal shaped like an attractive woman who was flashing some comically tacky, large breasts, and each of her long stiff nipples served as hooks for keys. Jake’s keys were already there on the left tit of the tacky college-boy decor, so Liam added his key ring to the right nipple.

Stumbling slightly as he himself was a little drunk, the wavering frat boy started to remove his shirt but froze in his tracks when he looked toward Jake’s bed.  Liam smiled.

She was straddling him in nothing but her hot pink underwear and the T-shirt she’d been wearing to the party.

“Damn, Jake…it’s fucking 5:17am!” Liam groaned with a crooked smile, rubbing his eyes as he tossed his shirt into an overflowing hamper of dirty laundry.

Liam’s entrance into his own dorm room had not seemed to deter the brownish-blonde haired cutie he’d seen way earlier in the party.  She was on top of Jake, but not aligned for a good proper fucking.  Upon closer, nosey inspection while approaching his own adjacent bed, Liam saw that Jake was completely passed out, enough drool on his pillow to indicate he’d been like that for some time.

Liam saw the blonde’s small fingers gently massaging Jake’s exposed ball sack.

“Yo..what the fuck are you doing to him?” Liam asked aggressively.    Liam had girls play with his balls before.  This girl was not playing with Jake in that way.  It seemed so much more…professional?  Maybe even surgical, precise, and focused. It was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen in his life.  Liam wouldn’t have been able to fully put it into words just how strange it looked.

The strange girl had either become spooked by Liam’s question or she was finished with whatever she was doing anyway because she released his ball sack, jumped up from the bed, and immediately started wiping her fingers clean on a napkin.  Liam didn’t want to do it, but he took a step closer and looked at his roommate's balls.

“Uhh….Were you…like…moisturizing them or something?” Liam inquired with extreme confusion, squinting only long enough to get a vague look at Jake’s sack but not a second longer than necessary.

“Yeah…they’re flaky….and smelly.” The blonde said, pulling her jeans back on and sliding her bare feet into her sneakers.  She seemed in a hurry as she ran for the door, stuffing her socks into her tiny jeans’pocket.

The blonde turned back to look at Liam and playfully winked, “Yours probably could use a little moisturizer too, I’m guessing!”

The quirky, ball-inspecting girl then disappeared out the door, and Liam was left scratching his head and looking down quizzically at his roommate.

“Yo..Jake.  Yo…” Liam said, shaking Jake’s broad shoulder.

He chuckled as Jake started shifting to get comfortable. His eyes fluttered open, but his irises were barely visible, turned up toward the tops of his eye sockets.

“Yo, put your moisturized balls away, bro.”  Liam chuckled.

Liam grabbed Jake’s blanket and pulled it up over Jake’s body, tucking him in.  He couldn’t wait to give his passed out roommate shit when they woke up the next day.

‘...or later today..’ Liam corrected himself, looking at the clock and seeing that the next day had already started.  He hoped he’d have the chance, anyway.  Liam was leaving to go see his girlfriend and wouldn’t be back in the dorm until tomorrow.  “Shit…I really need to get a few hours in..”  Liam hoped to get asleep before too much of the sun invaded their window; it was a 3-hour drive to his girlfriend’s.

Amina [2026-04-13 - Very Early Morning]

Amina took a few deep breaths, her left hand clasping over her quickly beating heart.  The buxom sleeping beauty with whom the 32-year old shared her bed was fast asleep on Amina’s left side, facing inboard. Evette was snoring blissfully, and Amina was still recovering from the impromptu midnight quickie.  Even after all these years, Amina and Evette’s relationship was a powder keg of sexual exploration and expression.  Although the unpredictability that often accompanied youth and new love had gradually stabilized relative to their accruing years of wisdom, they still felt like teenagers.

Years into their marriage, it still didn’t take much more than a cute, suggestive wiggle of Evette’s wide, kissable hips against Amina’s crotch to create a spark. When they were alone within the soft pink walls of this loving bedroom, no one else existed in the world except them.

Amina rolled onto her right side, inboard to face Evette.  The years were showing on her sleeping face, but Evette was still just as beautiful the day they first met over 10 years ago.  Amina scooted down the length of the mattress a bit, aligning her face with Evette’s bare chest. Evette was lying on her left side so her left breast was splaying and deforming under the considerable weight of its right-handed twin.  The 32 year old nuzzled into her sleeping wife’s excessive cleavage and took a deep breath.  The scent was intoxicating. Evette appeared to claim enough consciousness to lovingly stroke Amina’s scalp, gently pulling her face in tighter against her bosom.

Amina might have fallen asleep right there, supporting the weight of Evette’s right tit atop her cheek while Evette’s left tit supported everything else, but Amina felt a tickle in her abdomen.  She gently removed her face from Evette’s bust and carefully got out of bed so as not to wake her.

After doing her business in the master bathroom, Amina cloaked her naked body with a robe and made her way downstairs for a small glass of root beer soda.

Her bare feet scuffled against the carpeted steps and as Amina got closer to the first floor, she could hear voices coming from the dining room.  She peeked over the couch to see a bunched up blanket and a large pillow against the armrest.  There was even a subtle dent in the center of the white pillow to show someone had been lying in it recently, but no one was there lying on it now.

Amina rounded the corner of the living room, getting closer to the sound of quiet feminine voices and occasional giggles. Her eyes reflexively tightened in the light of the dining room.  Her eyes adjusted quickly to the lively scene in the dining room. Seated at the table were two young women, one of which was Amina’s stepdaughter Jordan.  The 22-year old was facing away, parked comfortably in the same dining room seat she had sat in every day for dinner up until she left for college.  Seated next to Jordan was the dirty blonde named Claire.  To this day, Amina didn’t know her too well and there was something off about her, but Evette was quite fond of her. Apparently Claire had been a student of Evette’s a few years back, a memorable one at that.  She’d also been instrumental in Jordan’s decision to follow through and pursue higher education which, as mean as it may have sounded, caught Amina off guard.  Amina loved Jordan like a daughter…or perhaps ‘like a big sister’ would have been more appropriate considering their closeness in age. Amina respected Jordan’s athletic prowess, excelling at most every sport she tried and even joining a college volleyball team, but Jordan was not a very hard worker when it came to academics.

There were several boys back in Jordan’s high school that the 22-year old had expertly wrapped around her fingers, trading her highly coveted attention for the answers to this and the solutions to that.  There was no doubt in Amina’s mind that Jordan got through high school mostly on her looks; the girl had the kind of figure that could make a boy cry into his pillow with desire.  Amina never outwardly approved of Jordan’s manipulative tactics but what stepmother didn’t want to see their stepdaughter succeed and prosper?  Was it Jordan’s fault that the boys at her high school were so weak and easily corrupted? If only they knew how much worse it could be!

Amina found amusing the thought of one of those poor boys having to see the curvy teenager strut around the house in those tight, revealing pajamas. The thought of them mustering the discipline and decency to avert their eyes as Jordan emerged from her bathroom wearing nothing but a towel as Amina regularly did was laughable.  Still, despite her unbreaking commitment to Evette, Amina was a flesh-and-blood woman. Disciplined eyes can wander. Committed minds can wonder. But wandering and wondering fall far short of obsession.

Those poor boys wouldn’t have lasted 2 days in this house with Jordan.

There was even one particularly smitten boy that Jordan strung along well after high school graduation.  The nameless boy was hopelessly nerdy but also quite intelligent.  To Amina’s knowledge, despite having a scholarship to an ivy league school, the hopeful boy had even remained in their quiet small town just to be available on the rare occasions that Jordan would come back from college to visit family.  She would always make time for him, but never without a school folder bursting at the seams with blank homework assignments, lab sheets, and take-home quizzes that were just waiting to be filled out.

The boy’s infatuation with Jordan went far beyond any of the others that came before him.  Amina recalled one instance where Jordan had returned home from college for the holidays.  Jordan was never much of a gift-giver, but between the designer high heels for Amina, a beautiful dress for her mom, and several other little trinkets, Jordan must have spent over $300!

Evette inquired as to where Jordan got the money, as any interested mom would, since Jordan wasn’t working. Jordan replied with a smile that she had a very generous and devoted friend who wanted to make Christmas “super special” this year.

‘That poor boy…yeesh….’Amina had thought, questioning if he’d even survive seeing Jordan in a bathing suit.

“Yup, okay.” Jordan said.

The two girls in the dining room hadn’t yet noticed Amina.

Jordan was leaning forward attentively in her dining room seat, and it was impossible for Amina’s eyes not to track onto the hot pink thong practically painted to the 22 year old college graduate’s arched lower back. The narrowing fabric dipped down into Jordan’s fuzzy polka dot pajama bottoms.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles and the tops of her feet pressed into the hardwood floor, her scrunched up toes pointing up at the underside of the dining room chair’s seat.  Jordan had white socks with some kind of orange dot or heart pattern but only one of the socks hugged her foot. The other sock was resting on the table.

“Okay, so what’s the order going to be when we…..” Jordan trailed off as Claire’s eyes rose to meet Amina’s in the dining room entranceway.

“What are you girls doing up so late?” Amina asked with a smile, resuming her walk toward the fridge.  She had only been standing there for a moment and she hoped that Claire and Jordan didn’t think she was eavesdropping.

Jordan peered over her shoulder at the sound of Amina’s voice and quipped, “Oh, you know…it's a sleepover so we’re talking about boys…music…food…sex…ya know, the usual.”

Amina grinned ear to ear as she poured a tall glass of milk. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Jordan had discretely lowered the sock back to the floor and slid her bare foot into its mouth, wiggling her toes into their designated section at the end of the sock.

“How long are you staying, Claire?” Amina asked, stealing a glance down at the table to see a composition notebook between the two girls.  It was opened to somewhere near the end of the book and Amina noticed something very interesting on the page.  It looked like a pencil sketch of a breast.  A large, perky one…with a stiff nipple, and next to it was a small stick figured man.  There was lots of writing surrounding the graphic including what looked like a bunch of complicated math, but before she could get a better look at it, Claire shut the notebook.

It was no mystery between Claire and Jordan who scribbled the math on those pages, but Amina spent more time than she should have silently wondering which girl had sketched out that big, full breast on the page.

Was it Jordan?

Amina strongly wanted to see it again but resisted the urge to ask about it, fearing that she might make the artist uncomfortable.

If it WAS Jordan that drew it, and it meant what Amina thought it meant, well….maybe Amina would find out later.

“What’s today?  Monday?” Claire said.

Amina looked at the clock on the wall. “Well, it’s after midnight so yes.”

“Okay, yeah I’ll be catching a flight back to California on Sunday.”

“Oh, do you have family in the area?” Amina asked.

“Nope.” Claire answered bluntly with a smile.  It was uncomfortably quiet for a few moments before Jordan spoke up, “Yeah, I’ll probably be staying for the week, too.  I have to see if I can get some help from Andrew with building my resume.”

“Oh, is that the boy who was helping you with your homework?” Amina asked.

Jordan’s eyes turned to fire, “No, no no.  That was Brad.  Him and I don’t talk anymore…”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear–”

“--do you and my mom have any plans?” Jordan interrupted Amina. Claire seemed to perk up at the question and pay as close attention as Jordan did to the answer.

“Oh..umm…yes, actually.  A friend of ours got backstage tickets for some band your mother listens to. I don’t remember the name of them…anyway, apparently they can’t go anymore so they gave the tickets to us.”

“When is that?” Claire asked this time, catching Amina a little off guard but perhaps the girl was just trying to be polite.

“Well, it's going to be an all day thing, I think. We’ll be leaving at around noon and we probably won’t be home until late.”

“Oh okay, that sounds fun.” Jordan said with a smile.

“We’ll see!” Amina said with a smile.  “Good night, girls.”

“Good night, Amina.” The two echoed in unison.

Taking another long sip of her milk, Amina left the light of the dining room and made her way to the stairs, but not before hearing more giggling from the dining room.

Then, she heard the girls start saying names.

First Jordan’s name.

Then Claire.

Then Evette.

Then her own.

Claire [2026-04-12 late evening]

The blanket pushed down into the crevices of the plush cushions as Claire sat down on the couch across from Jordan.  The dirty blonde rested her right arm on her pillow which was adorning the armrest of the couch.  The first thing Claire did when she purchased her plane ticket for Jordan’s graduation was reserve a hotel close by so that she could have her privacy.  She needed, however, to stay one night in order to check up on Adam, which she’d done successfully.  Claire’s mistake, she now realized, was bringing her backpack and journal with her.  Jordan had a mix of intrigue and pomposity on her face, but maybe this wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world.

The two girls remained frozen in the dark, silent living room for a few moments.

“Well?” Jordan said.

“Well what?” Claire replied.

“I said….tell me about all this injection stuff.”

“I’m shrinking people and injecting them into women.” Claire said matter of factly.

Jordan’s face twisted into confusion and disappointment…and also a tinge of hope.

“That’s insane…you’re making it up.”

Claire sighed, scooting away from the armrest and planting her head on her white pillow.  “You’re right.  I’m making it all up..good job on getting to the bottom of this.” Claire stuffed her sock-clad feet back under the covers and started pulling them up her body.

I’m going back to bed.”

“No, stop.  You’re trying to trick me.”

Claire rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag.  She opened the combo lock and retrieved her journal.  “Page 18…” Claire said, tossing the journal toward Jordan.

Claire yawned as Jordan flipped through the pages and then squinted.

“What are these? Hieroglyphics?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “I forgot you graduated in business administration.  Jeez, did you forget everything I tutored you on in high school?”

“You never taught me this crap.  It's like chemistry and other weird stuff.”

“Well, that weird stuff is my mathematical proof of concept for size reduction.” Claire said.

Jordan resumed flipping through the pages, probably trying to find some pictures that would be easier for her to process.  Her eyes widened on one particular page.

“Adam Benson?” Jordan said in disbelief.  “As in my dad??  Oh my god…there’s his address.  Why is my dad in here?”

“Cause I shrunk him.”

“Seriously?” Jordan questioned in disbelief.

Claire was preparing for Jordan to flip off her handle.  That was fine with Claire…she’d find a way to smooth this over enough to safely leave, even if it meant ending this relationship.  But not even Claire saw what was coming next.

“That’s…..AWESOME!” Jordan hissed in an excited whisper.

“Wait…you’re not mad?” Claire asked, sitting up on the couch and swinging her feet under her butt.

“Why would I be mad?” Jordan continued leafing through the pages.  “He’s the biggest creep ever; I’m pretty sure he cheated on my mom…in fact..yeah, you confirmed that back in the day!”

“Right, I remember.”

“He broke my mom’s heart, ya know.  He ruined our family.”

Claire was starting to get bored.

“I mean…mom’s happy enough with Amina now I guess but still….I could never forgive him for what he’s done.  I haven’t seen him in years and I don’t ever want to again.”

“Sure..no one would blame you for feeling that way probably.” Claire said half-heartedly.

Jordan’s lips pursed and she gasped sharply.  Claire couldn’t help but find amusement in how long it took the girl to finally get there.

“Wait….” Jordan said, “...when you started tutoring me back in high school…when you were giving my mom those weird injections in her boob…”

“Whatever you’re thinking right now…you’re right.”

“You’re telling me that for the past 4 or 5 years, my dad…has been tiny and living inside my mom’s boob?!”

“It’s kinda poetic, don’t you think?” Claire said with a giggle.

Jordan was quiet for a few moments and then her stone cold expression cracked.  A giant smile sprouted on her lips, her eyes lit up, and Claire was startled to see Jordan burst out laughing.  “I’ll say!  That’s fucking hilarious!”

“Holy cow, weirdo..” Claire said, looking upstairs, “You’re going to wake up your mom.”

“Does my mom know?”

“No…and it's probably best that we don’t..you know..tell her. We shouldn’t tell anyone, actually.”

“Why not?”

“Umm…” Claire over-emphasized the action of stroking her chin as if she were in deep thought, “Oh I know! Cause your pervert dad didn’t exactly volunteer to get injected into your mom’s huge tit, Captain Obvious.”

Jordan rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Okay..well…..I won’t tell anyone…but….”

It was Claire’s turn to roll her eyes.

“...you’ve gotta do something for me first.”

Claire sighed, “I probably won’t do it…but what is it?”

Jordan hopped up and crossed her legs indian style on the loveseat, resting her forearms on her thighs.  “I want you to take my dad out.”

“What?  Why?”

“Well, first off..he doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near my mom..definitely not in her boob.”

“Hmmm…” Claire stroked her chin for real this time.  “It actually would be a really good opportunity to evaluate him. Nobody’s spent more time inside a breast than your dad…” Claire chucked a little bit, except for Tom.”

“Who’s Tom?”

Claire’s eyes were somewhere else as she giggled into her open hand.  When Claire returned from wherever her mind had taken her during her warm-hearted reminiscence of the almost certainly Korean-fluent Tom, she answered Jordan’s question.

“No one, that’s not important right now.  Anyway…yeah, I think I can take your dad out. I’ll just have to get your mom to agree to let me jab her boob one more time.”

Jordan’s arms were crossed over her chest.  Her playful smirk now more closely resembled a frown.

“Ya know….” She started, “I’m still…like…REALLY mad at him for what he did.  For how he broke our family apart.  It wasn’t just mom that he fucked over ya know…and I…I want to pay him back.”

“What do you mean? Like, punish him?”

“Yeah, a full day…to start with..” Jordan said with a straight face.

“Oh, you are evil!  Okay, I’ll try and extract him tomorrow afternoon but I may need your help getting your mom to let me…and I’ll give him to you tomorrow night after I’m done with evaluating him.”

“Perfect.” It was all Claire said.

“Yeah, and then you’ll give him back to me.”

“Back to you?” Jordan asked, her head tilted.  “Why would I do that?”

“Ummm….because he’s mine, that’s why.” Claire said firmly.

“Excuse me…but he’s MY dad.”

“Okay?  And what does that mean? He’s MY experiment.” Claire argued.

Jordan let out a dissatisfied groan, “Keep it down, will ya?  You’re going to wake my mom and Amina up.  Let’s continue this in the dining room.”

Claire and Jordan took their seats.

“Okay, where were we?” Jordan asked.

“We were saying that YOUR dad is MY experiment, which means he belongs to me.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Fine…but…well, what are you going to do with him?”

“I dunno..” Claire said sincerely.  “Probably take him back to Cali with me.  I’ve got a few girls back home that would be happy to adopt him, if you know what I mean. Maybe I'll even let him pick.”

“I don’t care about that.” Jordan said, sighing dramatically.  “I’m talking about your evaluation thingy.”

“Oh. Well, there’s this one theory I have that involves pheromonal and lipid reprogramming.  I was going to test it out on one of my year-long injectables..but it’d be very silly of me to turn down a chance to test it on a five-year injectable instead.”

“What’s pheromonal and lipid reprogramming? Pheromonal is like smell stuff, right?”

“Basically, yes. There’s a good chance that your dad has more or less formed a biological link to your mom.  He’s been living inside her body…off her body..completely dependent on her.”

“Like a parasite.” Jordan said, her upper lip curling with contempt.

“Pretty close, yeah.”  Claire mostly agreed and continued. “One of the strongest, most vivid senses is our sense of smell so…hmmm…..I haven’t ironed out all the details of it just yet so I may have to make some stuff up as I go but…I’m thinking…that I’ll contain him within one of Amina’s dirty socks and then one of your mom’s socks.”

Jordan’s hand rushed to her mouth to cover a giggle, “Ew! That’s gross!”

“Well, if my calculations are correct, your dad will only half-agree with you on that!  I expect him to become incredibly stressed and panicked while confined within Amina’s sock and then much more relaxed and calm while in your mom’s sock.”

“I don’t think it's going to work out the way you think it will.” Jordan said, “My dad hates feet.”

“Even better to test my theory!” Claire exclaimed, “I’m guessing that your dad is a changed man..or whatever you want to call him now…at least when it comes to Evette.”

Jordan leaned over and reached down, hooking a thumb in between her ankle and the cotton of her sock, sliding it off her foot.

“Well, if you want to be thorough, you can always toss him into one of my socks, too!” Jordan offered , lifting the sock up to the table’s surface.  It was a pristine white ankle-length sock with bright orange little hearts and a rim of bright orange trim up at the mouth.

Claire smiled, “That’s actually a really good idea.  Maybe I’ll throw my hat in the ring too, so to speak!”

Both girls giggled loudly.

“I think I’ll have to grow him back a little bit.  I don’t remember how little I made him but it's seriously REALLY small.  Way too small to even be able to measure his responses, let alone see him without a friggin’ microscope.”

“How about a centimeter tall?” Jordan asked abruptly.

“I think that’s perfect. Big enough to interact with him and small enough to REALLY hate being in our socks!”

“Okay, so what’s the order going to be when we–”

Claire’s focus was broken from Jordan when she saw a figure coming from the shadows of the dark living room.

Jordan turned her head, having must have seen the piqued interest in the dirty blonde’s eyes and the two girls got an eye full of Amina’s modest cleavage right before she tightened her fingers over the lapelles of her robe.

Apparently she’d come down to get a drink or something, which Claire couldn’t exactly take issue with seeing as it was Amina’s house.  The woman made small talk with her and Jordan, got a little nosey, and then returned back upstairs.

“Do you think she was wearing anything under that robe?”

Jordan’s upper lip curled, “Eww..my stepmom? I have no idea.”

The wheels in Claire’s head were turning.

~

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 2 - Anger and Opportunity

[Adam]

It had been 44 years since Adam Benson’s birth…or had it been 45?  How many Christmases had passed?  It was hard to remember.

‘..for the sake of argument, let's say 45…’ Adam thought.

It had been 45 years since Adam Benson’s birth, and he unsurprisingly remembered nothing of his grand entrance into this world.  Despite his lack of memory, he had to imagine it wasn’t all too dissimilar to what he was currently experiencing, trapped in the spinning vortex of fluid and several hundred stubborn, love-struck fat cells.

The fat cells part…that surely wasn’t part of the experience, but the blinding light surely was. He couldn’t see a damn thing, and couldn’t make out a single, solitary shape.  In fact, he only knew the fat cells were with him because he’d occasionally bounce off or slide against their slippery, jiggly membrane walls and oh, did he know them well.

Eventually, he no longer felt the few stubborn fat cells that followed him up the syringe stem and he knew the voluminous container of the syringe allowed them to drift as if they were planets never to be seen or heard from again.  He was now barrelling through an empty white void.  Adam wondered if the years in darkness had permanently disabled his vision but he reminded himself that if that were the case, everything would likely be black..  The bright white, indiscernible liquid carrying him was noticeably colder.  He wondered if the years cocooned in his beautiful, busty ex-wife’s extreme mammarian warmth had destroyed his metabolism. He knew that he could still hear but without the protective filtering of Evette’s skin and fatty breast tissue, the waves of sound were painful and scary.  He was hearing so much from the world he once called home but he understood none of it.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been extracted from Evette’s huge breast but this time, it’d been so long that it truly felt like a rebirth in every sense of the word.  He was naked, cold, and afraid..and most of all unsure of what was going to happen next. Despite his fears, he decided that whatever it was that waited for him on the other side of this swollen tit was better than a life inside of it.  Adam’s mind instantly went to the night before…or was it two nights ago…when he heard that god-awful, treacherous demon of a blonde’s voice echoing all around him.  What could she possibly have wanted with him now?  Hadn’t she tortured him enough?  And for no fucking reason at all.

Maybe she was pulling him out just to tease him some more.  Maybe she was pulling him out to finally follow through on her threat she’d made years ago…to inject him into Jordan’s ass cheek.  God…how old was she now?  21? 22?

Adam’s world mercifully darkened as his syringe was dropped into some kind of bag.  He heard what must have been the deafening sound of a zipper up in the clouds of heaven or in the bowels of hell depending on the orientation of the syringe. He remained there for some time, slowly regaining the ability to understand all the data his senses were gathering.  It was strangely uncomfortable not feeling the strong, unrelenting pressure of the fat cell lattice structure around him.  He’d gotten so very used to it and now he felt unprotected…vulnerable…alone.

After a few hours, the dark bag jostled and shook, and was bouncing along with someone’s steps. The rhythmic bouncing continued for some time until finally liquid inside the syringe inside the bag abruptly rippled as the bag came to rest on a hard surface.  The zipper was much more noticeable now that his hearing had somewhat normalized.  The light rushing in was still painful but not nearly as intolerable as before.

For the first time, he saw something other than white or black.  It was a color!  And to make things even crazier, it was a color other than the barely illuminated pinkish red he’d grown so accustomed to.  Sure, the color spectrum in its full range was still too difficult to discern, the massive objects rushing toward him taking on a vibrant reddish color.  The shapes were a better indicator of what they were though.

They were fingers.

He watched the thumb and finger prints press against the plastic walls of his home away from home and even as the skin slightly shifted from the pressure, the prints remained stationary where they were against the plastic.  Adam was out of the bag now, and new colors were finding their way to his eyes, exercising the atrophied cones and rods.  The fingers had taken on a flesh color now, and he could resolve the dark, oak brown of the table beneath him.  More and more was beginning to make sense and Adam already felt exhausted, but there was so much more to understand.

A fleshy thumb hooked around his field of view, moving uncomfortably fast considering its sheer size, and the fluid around him began its familiar vortexic spin.  Adam’s eyes frantically scanned down where the liquid was leaving the syringe, expecting to see Evette’s breast again…or perhaps his daughter’s massive bare ass cheek, but instead he saw reflective stainless steel.

“The sink?!” Adam panicked, trying to swim away from the influential suction of the leaving liquid.  He watched in terror as stray fat cells not so diligent as he were pulled through the stem and deposited down into the drain of the sink.

“It can’t end like this!  Not after all this time!” Adam shrieked, swimming frantically away from the vortex.  There was so little liquid left in the syringe, and Adam could still see that evil, chubby thumb overhead. He swam toward it as if it were a god that could be bargained with, and  he suddenly saw the blood rushing back to the previously white area of the thumb where pressure was being applied.  Whoever was vacating the fluids in the syringe chamber stopped just before he’d been fully ejected, and now they were moving away from that terrifying stainless steel nightmare.

The pressure on the plunger resumed, but now Adam saw the stem was directed toward a transparent, square slab…perhaps made out of plastic.  Adam noticed the slab was affixed to a green circuit board just as he was forced through the stem and out its tip.

There were already several droplets of fluid there waiting for him atop the transparent square slab, and Adam felt even more nervous at this moment.  There was nothing but these tiny droplets of fluid between him and the world he’d left years ago.  It was unnerving and embarrassingly stressful.

He looked around.  Indeed he was atop a large circuit board, with wires dozens or even hundreds of times larger around than he running in a spaghetti fashion in all directions, but all converging on a path toward him.

For the first time, his vision had settled enough and earned enough experience to actually pick out where he was…and more importantly who had ejected him from the needle’s tip.  Adam’s heart skipped a beat.

It couldn’t be her.  It couldn’t actually be her, could it?

Surely he’d just lost the ability to understand faces.  It had been years since he’d seen one, after all.  There was no way this was who it was.  This had to be some ethereal Goddess.  A beautiful, transcendent angel that had granted him a modicum of mercy.

It was then that Adam heard the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard in his life.  He began to cry.

“Daddy?  Are you in there?“

He couldn’t believe his eyes.  The angel that had just discharged him from the syringe’s chamber….the beautiful Goddess he’d dedicated in a moment a lifetime’s worth of prayers…was his daughter Jordan.

“Jordan?!” Adam exclaimed in disbelief, swimming within a single, tiny droplet of transparent fluid.  “Yes!  Sweety…I’m here!  I’m here!”

Jordan leaned in closer, and his entire field of view was consumed by her squinting left eye.

“I see a little dot…is that you?  Oh shoot, you’re too little to talk to me so I probably won’t be able to hear you either.”

“I’m here, baby!  I’m here! Daddy’s here!” Oh thank the lord, I’m here!” Adam cried, swimming closer to the edge of the single droplet, wanting to get that much closer to his beautiful daughter-savior.

“I can’t believe she did this to you.” Jordan’s voice bellowed despite her calm tone.  She was leaning over the kitchen table, and yet she was still in the heavens above him.  The poor girl was pouting.

“Where is she?” Adam shouted, despite knowing that he was too diminutive to be heard.  “Is she dead?  In jail?  I don’t care as long as she’s gone!”

Jordan, predictably enough, was not providing Adam with an answer to his question.  Adam didn’t hold it against her.

Instead, she was turned away from Adam, seemingly rooting around in the bag from which she’d pulled Adam’s syringe.  The exaggerated movement of her upper body as she shifted throughout the contents of the stuffed bag translated to movement below her waist. Adam swallowed dryly, watching Jordan’s huge ass jiggle with very little restriction.  She was wearing a skintight pair of pale pink bike shorts that hugged her curvy cheeks so tight it was borderline obscene.  Already, the fear of ending up trapped deep in the fat of one of those fleshy spheres was leaving him, and he was already thinking about the stern talking he’d give her about modesty when he grew back…if that was even still possible.

“Sorry, Daddy…I’m just looking for…hmm…oh! I think this is it!”

Jordan was excited and by extension, so was Adam.  She set a transparent container down on the table near Adam and began leafing through a composition notebook that Adam couldn’t believe he recognized.  It had been years since he’d last seen it on a different dining room table in a different house.

“There’s green….there’s pink…ooo, definitely don’t want that one…” Jordan muttered to herself.  There wasn’t much urgency in her voice, so maybe Claire really was out of the picture.

“Ahh!  Baby blue!  Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it?” She said with a smile down to Adam.

Jordan’s fingers emerged from the bag holding a small container with several eye drop containers secured into plastic framing. She popped it open, revealing more clearly the variety of colored eye drop containers.  He saw tiny containers that looked a bit like those packages of tiny food coloring squeeze bottles.  Jordan removed the one that was baby blue.

“Okay Daddy…here goes nothing!” Jordan said with a smile.

She opened the cap and held the container over top of Adam’s droplet and squeezed.  A baby blue droplet began growing at the end of the container and finally its weight became too much.  It crashed down into his droplet and immediately mixed homogeneously into his surroundings.

And then Adam felt it.

It was like the feeling he’d felt when Claire injected him all those years ago except that time it was like a violent purple cracking against a void black backdrop…spidering out in all directions from the injection point.  This time, it felt like soothing, calm pinks and blues were flowing in toward him from all directions.  Every square millimeter of his surface area was warmed by the liquid and he felt himself growing.

“It’s working, Daddy!  It’s working!” Jordan clapped and smiled.

Adam’s head broke out of the surface tension of the droplet prison containing him and for the first time in years, Adam took a deep explosive breath of fresh oxygen.  He coughed profusely but the kicking sensation in his lungs felt so good. He felt like a human again…not some tit parasite.

“Oh, thank fucking god I don’t have to be in that liquid anymore!” Adam shouted, growing so big now that he couldn’t remain suspended in the droplet anymore.  Now, his unworked bare feet had the task of supporting his full body weight.

Easier said than done.  WAY easier said than done.

Adam stumbled and already his leg muscles felt sore from the bombardment of weight and work.

“You’re back! Yay!” Jordan cheered.

Adam looked around.  He was still standing atop the clear slab of plastic centered on the circuit board and spaghetti wiring.

“How big am I?” Adam asked.

“Are you talking, Daddy?  I hear a really quiet chirping sound.  Is that you?”

Jordan lowered herself to Adam, bringing her ear so close that a few strands of her long brunette hair almost knocked Adam from his transparent pedestal.

“Thanks sweety..thanks so much.  It’s so good to be able to talk to you..and to hear your voice.  How big am I?”

Jordan consulted the composition notebook and ran her finger down the page of bubbly, girly handwriting.

“The baby blue does…hmmm….one centimeter.” Jordan said.

“Well..that’s a start.”

Jordan abruptly returned her ear right next to Adam.

“I said ‘That’s a start!’”. Adam repeated. “Is there any liquid in there that corresponds to a larger size?”

“Sorry Daddy, I don’t see any.”

“It’s okay sweetheart.  Listen…” Adam sighed deeply, “I need you to go and get your mother.  Is she home?”

“No, she and Amina are at a friend’s party.”

That stung a little bit.

Jordan tapped her chin, “Actually, Mom is going there straight from work I think, but Amina hasn’t left yet.  Do you want me to go get her instead?”

“No!” Adam shouted and repeated rapidly up until Jordan brought her ear close enough to hear the answer and then realized how frantic he sounded.  “I mean…it’s okay honey. How about…hmm…we need to get to a hospital.  Do you think you can get me to the hospital?” Adam asked hopefully.

He took a moment to look around.  The cathedral-sized dining room was where he and Evette had wrapped christmas presents…it was where they’d prepared Jordan’s easter basket each easter.  It was where Adam and Evette sat and ate dinner every night.  Now, it was a strange new territory with all new decor and all new pictures.  The most emasculating one had to be the one with Evette wearing a beautiful white wedding dress…and another beautiful woman dressed in white next to her, holding her hand and kissing her sweetly.

Adam trembled. He remembered that day.

“I guess I could.” Jordan said.  “But you’re so little, Daddy.  What if I break you?”

“Don’t worry about breaking me, sweetheart.  If you knew what I’d been through, you wouldn’t worry about that at all.  And plus, I know you can be super, SUPER careful right?”

“I dunno….” Jordan said.

“Angel…” Adam said, pausing long enough to take control of the panic gradually and uncontrollably growing in his voice.  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It's just…” Jordan started, trying to find the words, “I told Chelsea that I would go with her to the gym; she doesn’t like going by herself cause of all the guys that hit on her and she said they don’t approach as much when she’s working out with another girl.”

Adam’s panic was making way for anger. “Jordan, are you serious right now?  Young lady, this is far more important than a gym visit.  You must understand that, right?  You’re going to take me to the hospital, and you’re going to do it right now…do you understand me?”

“Ugh…yes..” Jordan said, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, what?” Adam asked.

“Yes, Daddy…” Jordan rolled her eyes.  She was a grown woman now but still speaking as if she were a child…perhaps that’s just what he brought out in her.  It was good to know that he still had authority over her, even with this incredible size disparity.

“Ooooo!  Unless…” Jordan started to say.  Her eyes drifted up from Adam.  “How about I just have my friend take care of you?”

Adam’s stomach sank, “Your friend?  …..who?”

Jordan was no longer looking at Adam.  She was looking behind him.  And her gaze was no longer so far down at his level..instead it was up at her godly level.

Adam wished he didn’t, but against his better judgment he turned around to see where Jordan was looking.

“Hi, Adam!” Her black-painted fingernails danced as the Devil herself waived to him.

It was her.

Adam immediately fainted.

“Just look how pale he is! He never ever let himself get that pale.” One feminine voice announced and echoed on into fuzz.

“Well, he hasn’t exactly seen the sun so it makes sense…but you’re right; he’s definitely way more pale than I’d expect.  Almost translucent.  Could he see you?”

“I think so, why?”

“He probably hasn’t had to really use his eyes this whole time. I wonder if they even still work. He was more muscular than this too, right?”

“Oh yeah, wayyyy more.  He’s so skinny now!  Although he doesn’t really look malnourished.  Did he have food in there or something?  How did he not starve?”

Whispering.  More whispering.  And then loud giggling.

“Eww! Seriously?!”

“Shh!  Look! He’s waking up!”

Adam’s vision was blurry but he’d already done the work of reacclimating his eyes to the bright world earlier so the adjustment this time was quick.  Jordan was now sitting at the dining room table, and sitting right next to her was Claire.  Their faces were distorted and twisted upside down, and Adam realized it was because they were staring through a magnifying glass.

“Good morning!” Claire sang cheerfully. “Is it weird seeing him naked…and his little thing?”

Adam immediately rushed to cover his privates but he knew they’d already been ogling him for quite some time while he laid there passed out.

“Jordan…” Adam uttered weakly, trying to rise to his feet.

“Ummm…how about…gross?” Jordan smacked Claire on her shoulder playfully, “I’m not looking there.”

“Jordan, I don’t know what she said to you, but whatever she’s said is a lie.” Adam groaned, rising to his feet.  He knew he was only speaking to himself…that he was far too small for his voice to carry that–

“--Liar.” Jordan said, her arms crossed over her chest.

Adam’s head tilted. “You can hear me?”

“Uh-huh!” Claire nodded her head excitedly. “It’s a new prototype I’ve been working on, take a look…you’re literally standing on it!”

Adam looked down again at the slab of clear plastic seated on an expansive green printed circuit board. Unlike before, there were now LED lights blinking and flashing in seemingly random sequences.  He noticed now that the black box he’d seen earlier was in fact a speaker.

“Yup!  That’s  the speaker.” Claire said, following his eyeline.  “Your little bare feet complete the capacitive circuit and the speaker listens for local sounds, but it only amplifies the really quiet and really pathetic ones like yours. Pretty cool, huh?  And it's not the only fun toy we’ll be playing with, but we’ll get to that later.”

Adam looked up at Jordan, her upper lip curled into a disgusted sneer.  He couldn’t believe she was looking at him like this.  “Jordan….sweety…I’m begging you.  You have to–”

“I know what you did.”

The words were aggressive.  Jordan had a way of speaking in a lower pitch when she was uncontrollably angry, and she was definitely speaking in a lower pitch right now.

“What did I do?” Adam asked.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Daddy.  I know what you did to Mom!”

Jordan’s fist came down hard on the table, the vibrations traveling up through the amplification prototype and bringing naked little Adam to his knees.

“You told me that the two of you had just grown apart! That was a bold-faced lie!”

“Sweetheart…” Adam said, sighing with a slight smile.  He knew exactly how to handle this.  “I admit that I lied, but I only did it because I knew it was the right thing to do.  I did it in your best interests.”

Her beautiful, bright eyes lit up into twin fireballs, “My best interests?  You thought it was in MY best interests for you to hide the fact that you were FUCKING some other woman behind mom’s back?!  Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?! Jordan, what are you talking about?” Adam said, his voice trembling and quivering.

“You were only hiding it to help yourself when in the end it ended up blowing up in all of our faces…not the least of all, Mom’s!”

“Honey, you’re misunderstanding…I–”

CLICK

Adam watched in horror as the blinking LED’s around him all diminished at once.  He looked up to see a devilish grin on Claire’s face.  She had flipped a silver toggle switch and turned off the amplification prototype!  She wasn’t going to allow Adam to defend himself!  Adam looked frantically back to Jordan, who was still ranting about how upset she was.  In all her anger, she hadn’t noticed that Adam’s ability to respond had been silenced.

“You ruined our family! Jordan said, her voice getting louder.  “You’re not my father…and I’m not your daughter.  Don’t ever call me honey, sweety, sweetheart, princess, or any of that shit ever again. I don’t even want to hear my name coming out of your mouth, you sleez-bag liar.”

Adam was now on his knees, clasping his fists and praying up to the Goddesses..that’s how it appeared, anyway.  In reality, he was only praying to Claire.  He was silently begging her to give him his voice back so he could explain himself.

Claire silently said no.

“He could call you Ms. Maziotto…” Claire said quietly.

For the first time, Jordan laughed.  “You know what…not even kidding, that’s what we’re doing.”

Hearing that he would not only be forced to address his daughter with the respectful “Ms.” title, but on top of that she was removing his last name in place of his ex-wife’s made Adam want to curl up in a ball and die.

“I don’t want to hear another excuse from you about this.  I don’t want to talk about this.  I don’t want to hear your side of this.  Do you understand me?

CLICK

‘What great timing…’ Adam thought miserably as the LED’s resumed their blinking.

“Yes…” Adam said quietly.

“Yes, what?” Claire piped in, and Adam wanted to punch her.

“Yes, Ms. Maziotto.”

Adam felt more defeated than the first time he’d been present for Evette and Amina’s first lovemaking session.

Claire sent a silent look to Jordan, who silently nodded her head, and then Claire began speaking.

“Okay, Adam.” Claire said, clearing her throat.  “By the way, you can still call me Claire.”

Jordan rolled her eyes.

“...anyways…so I know I kept you in there for A LITTLE bit longer than we originally planned.”

“You’d said it would be for a month!” Adam wailed, “and I was trapped in her breast for YEARS!”

“Ugh…I know!” Claire said with an annoyed tone.  “That’s literally what I just said.  By the way..” Claire pulled out her phone and swiped her fingers along the glass a few times, “if you were curious..the exact time you’ve been in your ex-wife’s boob was 1,589 days, which comes out to just under 4 and a half years….but I digress.  Anyway, now you’re out!  You’re officially done in Evette’s boob; good job!” Claire donned a goofy grin and did a small golf clap.  Jordan sat there with her arms crossed over her chest.

The dirty blonde devil continued, “Now I just need to do a little evaluation to see how you’re doing since then.”

Adam skeptically asked, “.....and then what?”

Claire wore a confused expression, “Umm…and then you’re done.”

“What do you mean, done? You said I was going to spend the rest of my life in Evette’s breast!”

“Well jeez, Adam..” Claire said, rolling her eyes, “If you REALLY want to go back, I guess I can oblige.”

Claire began reaching for Adam and he fell back reflexively away from the massive digits..the black fingernails black as the dirty blonde’s soul.

“I’m just kidding!  No, seriously…you’ll be free to go after the evaluation.”

Adam’s eyes were pulled toward the sound of Jordan clearing her throat.

“Hmm?” Claire looked over at Jordan too, who looked at Claire silently.  “...Oh yeah.  Actually..after my evaluation, Jordan wants to punish you.”

“For what?” Adam asked nervously.

“Oh God, don’t make her repeat it.  She just said she wants to punish you for what you did to her and your wife, blah blah blah.”

Jordan smacked Claire on her shoulder, not quite as playful this time.

“Yow!” Claire said, rubbing her shoulder.  “Anyway, yeah…after she’s done punishing you, we’re gonna grow you back and you’ll be free to go!”

Adam remained quiet for a long time.  He considered running to the edge of the table and leaping off.  There was no way she was telling the truth…but he wanted to believe it so bad.

“Have you decided what his punishment is going to be yet?” Claire asked Jordan, to which Jordan shook her head.

“Not yet, I need a little more time to think of something fitting.” Jordan said, her upper lip still curled, “but no matter your punishment…once you’re restored, I don’t EVER want to see you again.  Not here in this house, in this town…not even in this state.”

She leaned in really close, so close that he could have reached out and touched her nose.

“And when you leave…” Jordan’s thick, heavy breath washed over him, oppressive and humid with mint and blueberry.  “...you are NEVER to bother me, my mom, or Amina again.  Do you understand me?”

Adam nodded his head violently.  Maybe this really was real.  There was no way she’d be this mad if they were just going to toss him back in Evette’s breast, right?

“Yes, Ms. Maziotto..I understand.”

“Oh..and Adam?” Claire said sweetly as Jordan sat back in her chair, allowing the ambient cold air to surround Adam as her breath particles fell under gravity’s influence.

“If you ever do somehow muster up the balls to say something to anyone about all this…first off, know that your lovely daughter…I mean…Ms. Maziotto here…will absolutely go down with me.”

“What?” Adam and Jordan both said in disbelief.

“And before we’re locked away and they throw away the key, I’m going to do a little gardening.”

“...gardening?” Adam said, confused.

Claire’s smile was terrifying, “Exactly.  I’m gonna plant a whole BUNCH of seeds all over.  Seeds of revenge.  They may take awhile to grow but from that day forward, you’d better be super, SUPER careful of any flowers.  Cause any time you see a pretty girl checking you out on the train, in the coffee shop, at work…maybe she’s interested in dating you.  But maybe…JUST MAYBE…she’s just one of the beautiful, devious flowers I planted…and she’s just planning on how she’s going to follow my orders and shrink you for good.  And there won’t just be one of these beautiful flowers, mind you…there will be dozens..and one of them WILL get you one day.”

Adam’s heart was racing.  They really were serious…and Claire really was terrifying. He believed everything she was saying..which was both exciting and terrifying. He nodded his head solemnly.

“We can go that way…” Her expression softened again, and Claire donned that cute smile that fooled him all those years ago. “...or we can all go our separate ways. I’ll even throw some money your way so that you can get back on your feet.  What’s it going to be?”

“I just want to move on from this, Claire.”  He turned to face Jordan.

“I’m so sorry for what happened Jord–Ms. Maziotto.”  Jordan stared down at him expressionless. He turned back to face Claire.

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Okay, good..let’s move this along.” Jordan said flatly.  “I wasn’t kidding about what I said earlier..about the gym and Chelsea…but I may as well stay for the first part.  I’m still first, right?”

“Yup!” Claire said, reaching into a duffel bag.  “Let’s start with Evaluation #1!”

Adam watched with uneasy curiosity as Claire removed from the bag four ziplock bags with some kind of cloth or colored cotton in each bag and a small and a thin slab of clear plastic.  She then opened one of the ziplock bags to remove the white and orange cotton inside.  When Adam realized what it was, he started to panic.

It was orange and white, and although the top of it appeared pristine and clean, the bottom was anything but.  He counted five distinct, off-color circles up at the tip…they started out small but graduated larger and larger further up its side.  At the bottom was a circle larger than all the others combined.  The orange hearts were larger than he was.

It was a sock.   A dirty sock.

~

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 3 - Experiment Time!

[Claire]

Claire watched the tiny speaker vibrate as it emitted Adam’s cute, pathetic voice.

“Oh god…not that.  Please, Claire…is this necessary?  Can’t you just–?”

–CLICK

“Did you turn him off?” Jordan asked curiously, noticing this time that Adam was muted mid-sentence.

“Yeah, all the high frequency squeaking is giving me a headache.” Claire said, setting Jordan’s white and orange sock down next to the amplification prototype. It was funny how much larger Jordan’s dirty toe prints were than her dad’s entire shaking body.  “Plus, we don’t need to hear him for this part anyway.”

The dirty blonde could feel Jordan’s curious eyes dancing between her silently pleading father and her own actions. Claire was removing from her bag a small sheet of 3”x3” cardstock square of paper and a tiny, opaque ziplock bag not much larger than her fingernail.  There was some kind of writing all over the side of the bag, either Chinese or Japanese…Claire didn’t know or care.

“How will you know if you can’t hear him tell you?” Jordan asked.

“Oh, with these.” Claire asked.  She turned the tiny bag upside down over the dining room table and spilled at least 2 dozen very small, reflective disks all in a variety of different colors.  They looked almost like lithium watch batteries, only they were way, WAY smaller.  They came in a variety of sizes, some as large as 0.5” in diameter while others looked so small they could have passed as grains of sand.  The last thing to fall from the bag hit with a light ding: it was a tiny pair of tweezers.

“These are STA’s…Stress Tracker Adhesives.”  Claire consulted the back of the baggie and said, “Okay….we want 2.5mm…which is a purple one…” Claire said, sifting through the colorful assortment of tiny disks.  She bit her lip in focus, pulling a purple disk away from the pile.

“That thing is going to track his stress then?” Jordan asked, leaning in so close that her breath actually made the purple disk flutter back into the pile.

Claire gave Jordan an agitated look to which Jordan gave a half-hearted apology.  Claire retrieved the disk from the pile.

“Yeah…” Claire answered, retrieving her phone and swiping through several menus. “Luckily we don’t need a pink or a black one…we’d need way more special tools for them.”

“Where does it plug in at?” Jordan asked, this time sitting far back enough so as not to create another hurricane which Claire appreciated.

“No plugs.” Claire said, holding the disk up to her phone.  After a moment, the phone’s screen flashed the same color as the purple disk.  She looked up at Jordan and smiled.  “It pairs up with my phone and sends the information over bluetooth.”

“Oh wow..did you make those?” Jordan said, impressed.

“Heck no!” Claire laughed. “I get these from a manufacturer overseas…Okay, this is the tricky part…”

Claire bit her lip in deep concentration. She was now trying to surgically remove the sticky backing from the purple disk using the tweezers.

“Can you move him over here?” Claire asked Jordan, not looking away from the precise task at hand.  “You can just set him on the sheet of paper next to your sock.”

Jordan lifted the amplification prototype with both hands and gently tilted Adam off the edge and onto the sheet of paper.

Claire allowed the white sticker backing to fall down to the table’s surface.  Between her tweezers, she expertly held the purple disk on the edge about as far out as she possibly could have.

“Alrighty…”Claire said, extending the tweezers toward Adam.  “Grab the purple disk as far out on the edges as you can and stick it on your chest.”

Jordan leaned in closer, holding her breath.  “He’s not taking it.”

Claire rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation.  “No…he’s trying to talk again.  Can you lean in and tell me what he’s saying?”

Jordan slid her sneaker in under her wide butt to help her lean in.  She pushed her thick brown hair out of her ear and brought it right up to Adam.  Jordan stared up at the ceiling as she focused on what she was hearing.

“He’s asking what it is.”

“I already said it's a stress tracker, you goof.  It's just going to track stress indicator metrics like changes in heart rate.”  Claire shook it in front of him again and repeated herself a bit more stern this time, “Stick it on your chest.”

“He’s crying about not wanting to wear it…and he’s” Jordan listened closer, “...he’s asking what we’re going to do with the socks.”

Claire spoke calmly but firmly. “You need to put this on right now. If you don’t, then the deal is off and I’ll just go flush you down the toilet.  I’m seriously not kidding..you’re worth NOTHING to me but data.”

With one hand, Claire held the tweezers and in the other she held the magnifying glass.  The dirty blonde smiled as she watched Adam’s skinny arms shakily extend out to the purple disk.  It was hilarious to see how big it looked in his hands.  Claire had to consciously freeze her muscles just to handle the tiny thing properly while Adam’s arms were spread out to either side of it as if he were holding an extra large pizza box.

“Now stick it on your chest…right in the center.” Claire instructed and Adam listened. She watched him smooth the purple disk over his chest and almost immediately her cell phone lit up with a matching purple background. Immediately, a plethora of graphs and changing values popped up on the screen.

“It’s working now?” Jordan asked.

“Yup! Just need a second to get some baseline measurements….Okay! All systems go.” Claire chirped excitedly, lifting the sheet of cardstock.  Adam’s legs gave out from under him. “You wanna open your sock up?” Claire asked Jordan.

Claire held the cardstock about 12 inches up off the surface of the table and Jordan positioned the mouth of the sock next to it, about an inch lower.

“I think it’d be more fun if you jumped.” Claire said to Adam, raising an eyebrow.  “Just think of it as a super big diving board.” The two girls stared at him, his knees shaking and trying to speak…but neither of them cared to hear what he had to say.

Claire sighed, “Ehh…you can’t always get what you want.”

The girls giggled as Adam scrambled to remain atop the gradually angling cardstock square until he was now clumsily tumbling off the edge.  They lost sight of him once he crossed the threshold of the ankle sock and Claire immediately turned her attention to her phone.  Jordan was peering inside the sock.

“Pinch it shut.” Claire said urgently.  “We don’t want any fresh air getting in there.”

“Should I just put it on?” Jordan asked.

Claire was quiet for a moment, and Jordan sensed this as a yes.  She quickly kicked her running sneaker and sock off her right foot and began slowly feeding her wiggling chubby toes into the mouth of the orange and white sock.

“Actually…nah, probably shouldn’t.”  Claire said.

Jordan stopped with the sock about halfway onto her foot and looked at Claire.  “Why not?”

“He’s durable but I’m not sure if he’s THAT durable.  He may very well be, but I don’t know for sure.  Your toes might crush him…and plus, we don’t have everyone here to wear their socks. We should be consistent with his exposure.  Science is all about controls and variables.” Claire lectured.

Jordan rolled her eyes and pulled her foot out of the sock.  She carefully inspected her foot to make sure Adam wasn’t stuck between her toes. The sporty brown haired girl then cinched the mouth of the sock with her fingers.  She stood up from the table and grabbed one of those sandwich claspers and attached it to the end of her white and orange sock.

Jordan set the sock down gently on the table and returned to her seat next to Claire to look at the data.

“What’s all that mean?” Jordan asked, almost certainly referring to the crazy spikes on the graph and the numbers steadily increasing in value.

“It means he’s severely stressed and uncomfortable.” Claire said, her fingers dancing nimbly over the phone screen.  She was cropping regions to save for review later.

“I think you were right about him not liking feet.” Claire said, trying to stifle a giggle.

The girls watched silently for a few moments, as if the well-worn, discolored sock was going to do a trick, but it just laid there completely motionless.  Claire thought if she looked close enough she might be able to make out movement down in the toe section area…and she thought she might have…but it could have just been her imagination.

“Let’s give him another 2 minutes…” Claire said, opening up one of the other zip lock bags.

At the end of the two minutes, Claire had Jordan pour Adam back onto the cardstock.  The two looked at him through the magnifying glass; he looked incredibly disheveled.

“Quarter of the way done.” Claire said cheerfully, opening the mouth of her own sock and positioning it in the same location beneath and to the side of the cardstock platform.  Unlike Jordan’s white and orange ankle sock, the sock that Claire chose was a tall wool sock.  It was fuzzy and comfy, which is why she elected to wear it on the flight over from California and then the full next day at Jordan’s graduation.

“It looks the same.” Jordan said, breaking Claire’s concentration.

“Umm…I thought you were going to the gym.” Claire said.

“Oh, I already texted Chelsea to let her know I’d be late.” Jordan said, lightly flicking the toe section of Claire’s sock where she suspected Adam was confined. “This is a lot more interesting than I thought it would be.”

“It’s not that out of the ordinary to see the same stress levels between the two of us….I mean, I’ve never done this before but this is pretty much what I’d expect.” Claire justified, recording the data.

Jordan retrieved from the refrigerator a New York style cheesecake that her mother had purchased the night before. The girls sat there at the dining room table, each eating a slice of cheesecake and making small talk, neither of them acknowledging even once the tiny man trapped in Claire’s well-worn wool sock…not until time was up.

“Okay, who’s next.” Jordan asked, picking up Claire’s sock by the mouth, reluctant to touch too much of Claire’s dirty sock.

Claire held up the ziplock bag with a set of high-ankle socks.  They were a very light gray with darker gray stripes that circled the foot; they appeared thick and well-worn.  Claire modeled the bag playfully, drawing attention to the “E” drawn across it and Jordan smiled.

“You’re doing good, Adam!” Claire said encouragingly as a dazed Adam tumbled out onto the cardstock for the second time.  Jordan didn’t waste any time sending him tumbling head over heels into his ex-wife’s dirty sock and quickly sealing it shut.

“Umm…is it broken?” Jordan asked, gently tapping on Claire’s phone screen.

“Stop.” Claire said, sounding slightly annoyed but also very excited.  “It’s not broken!  It's just as I thought!”

“What?” Jordan asked quizzically.

“Look at his freaking stress indicators!  They’re all plummeting!  The scent of your mom’s feet is literally like..relaxing him and calming him down.”

“Seriously?!” Jordan said, unable to control her giggling.  “That’s so funny!  Like I said, he hates feet!”

“..and now your mom’s big giant dirty sock may as well be his security blanket; bahahaha! Not gonna lie, it's actually kinda cute if you think about it.” Claire mused and then continued.  “Okay, let’s give him another minute and get the last one ready.”

Jordan grabbed her mom’s sock as Claire removed Amina’s bright pink ankle sock from the ziplock bag.

“Okay..for this last one…” Claire said, “I want to just dump him right from that one to this one.”

Jordan smirked in agreement.

“Yup…just connect the two mouths together and slowly start…yup, slowly start lifting the toe section of your mom’s sock.”

Claire instructed Jordan, eventually handing both socks off to Jordan.  She wanted her full attention on the stress indicator readouts when the transfer was made.

Jordan tilted the toe section of her mother’s dirty sock up until it was vertical, giving the toes a nice gentle shake and a few flicks.

“How am I supposed to know when he’s–”

“--Holy cow!” Claire exclaimed.  Jordan pinched Amina’s sock shut and directed her focus to Claire’s phone screen.

“What? Is it back up again?” Jordan asked urgently.

“Understatement of the year!  He’s like…having a freaking panic attack!”  Claire declared.  “Look at these spikes..they’re beyond the red caution threshold.  He’s completely panicking in there!”

Jordan’s brow furrowed.  Claire saw Jordan lift Amina’s sock up to her face.  She hesitated for a moment, thinking about if she really wanted to do this, and then decided to do it.  Jordan touched her nose against the toe section of Amina’s dirty sock and breathed in.  She’d been cringing up until she took the short breath in, but then her brow unwrinkled.  Jordan took another deeper breath in, her breasts expanding as her lungs accepted maximum oxygen.

“I don’t get it.  Her sock just smells like coconuts.  It doesn’t smell bad at all.” Jordan said, confused.

“That’s because it's not about the smell!” Claire said excitedly.  “Well…maybe it’s a little, tiny part of it..but in this case, it's something else.”

“What is it?” Jordan asked.

“It's probably an emasculation thing.  He looks like he might have been one of those macho handsome guys back when he was big…and guys like that have fragile egos.  Honestly, I can’t really think of something more humiliating and emasculating than not only having his entire world literally become his ex-wife’s boob…but also having a forced, permanent front-row seat to all the times she’s getting properly railed by Amina.”

“Umm…eww?” Jordan said, gagging.

“It must have worn away his psyche. That would explain why he loves the pheromonal presence of your mom but he is terrified of Amina’s.  She’s the alpha.  She’s superior…and he knows it. It's like how you can scare prey animals away by spraying the ground and fences and stuff with the urine of their predators.  The prey animals know that the predators are stronger and better so just the scent of the predator terrifies them.”

“That’s kinda gross…and kinda weird but I guess that makes sense when you explain it like that.” Jordan said, rubbing her chin.  She appeared deep in thought but Claire didn’t know what about.

“Don’t worry, I don’t have anything planned with urine.” Claire broke the silence bluntly.

Jordan couldn't help but laugh.

““Are you done with these now?” Jordan asked as she stood up from her chair, grabbing her white and orange sock.

“Hmm?” Claire said, having been lost in the screen of her phone.  “Oh!  Yup, all done.”

“Good, I should get these back to the dirty clothes hamper.  It’d be pretty awkward to try explaining why I borrowed Mom or Amina’s socks.”

Jordan turned Amina’s pink sock upside down and shook it, unceremoniously spilling little Adam out onto the dining room table.  With her mother’s white sock, Amina’s pink sock, and her own white and orange sock in hand, Jordan made her way to the laundry room.

Claire caught the pink flash out of the corner of her eye and quickly reached for the magnifying glass.  She trained it on Adam.

“That’s it for Part 1 of the evaluation…..you can take off the purple disk now..Adam?  ….Uh-oh…”

“What?” Jordan asked, returning from the laundry room.

Adam was clutching his head and vigorously rubbing his scalp, now curling up into a trembling ball of anxiety.

“He’s in a daze…completely lost in space.” Claire said, gently poking him with the tweezers she’d used earlier, but he wasn’t even responding to that.

Jordan set her hands down on the table on either side of Adam and began lowering her head such that her face was positioned directly over his curled up body.  Claire watched in amusement as Jordan’s eyes crossed to focus on the tiny thing only a foot or so beneath her face.  It looked like she might have been attempting to reach him verbally, but it looked like she had something else in mind.  Claire could see her cheeks shifting as Jordan shifted her tongue around in her mouth. She then pursed her lips and opened them just enough for a long, continuous stream of spit to pass her tightened, wrinkled lips.

“Direct hit.” Claire giggled, watching the massive stream of Jordan’s saliva rush toward the table like a long-tailed comet, striking dead on with Adam’s naked body.

He was absolutely engulfed in the sphere of saliva, and it looked like Jordan had the right idea because Adam immediately began wiggling and wagging his limbs like crazy, trying to swim through the thick, viscous liquid.

Claire watched in fascination.  It would have made more sense for Adam to swim forward since he was very close to the translucent sphere’s curved edge, but the prey instinct in his prey-converted mind commanded that he swim upward.  Even as his head broke the surface, the syrupy clear saliva clung with a vengeance over his face and clusters of tiny little air bubbles sprouted from his mouth and nose as he fought for air.  Somehow, he managed to tumble out of the sphere and roll away, leaving a clear trail of Jordan’s saliva as he clawed at his face, trying to clear the path between his lungs and precious oxygen.

The dirty blonde almost thought about intervening when she saw Adam’s chest finally expand.

“Well, that snapped him out of it, huh?” Claire said giggling. Jordan cracked the slightest of smiles.

“Okay…I gotta go to the gym now.  I’ll be back in about an hour and a half.  Will you be alright here?” Jordan asked, turning away from Adam’s gasping, spit-soaked display without any more acknowledgement.

“Oh sure, we’ve got quite a few more things to evaluate.” Claire said, rubbing her hands together.

~

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 4 - The Gym

[Jordan]

Jordan pulled into the closest gym parking space she could find and turned off the ignition.  She reached into the glove compartment of her car for tissues and wiped the budding tears from her eyes.  No matter how much she hated him now for what he did, Jordan still loved her dad.  Make no mistake, she felt no conflict in the way she treated him though. As far as Jordan was concerned, her father was an abstract idea that would live forever in her mind and heart as what she wanted him to be.  And the pathetic thing she’d dropped into socks, spit on, and left with Claire to do heaven only knows was just some pitiful, selfish little pervert.  Jordan’s heart mourned the loss of her father, but her mind had already moved on, actively brainstorming the perfect punishment for Adam. An idea had come to her mind on the drive over here when she reached for her coconut water, but she needed just a little more time to mull it over before telling Claire.

Jordan swiped her ID badge and made her way toward the upper level where the cardio equipment was stationed. She felt eyes on her body, specifically on her ass as she climbed the steps, but she didn’t mind.  She was having a pretty good butt day judging from her quick lookover in the mirror after changing into her gym attire.

First she saw two boys, probably 3 or 4 years younger than her, trying to muster up the courage to talk to a brunette girl on one of the exercise bikes.  Her pig-tailed brown hair bounced on her shoulders as she pedaled the bike.  Jordan rolled her eyes, approaching the brunette beauty.

What a pity…the cuter of the two must have just found the courage to sit next to the pig-tailed, big-breasted girl on the exercise bike, but Jordan got there first.

“Jeez..where were you?  I’m already 30 minutes in.” Chelsea huffed and puffed, shifting one of her pigtails off her bare neck.

Chelsea had gotten in a pretty good workout so far, her forehead shining with perspiration.  Jordan had also noticed  some dark dampness accumulating on Chelsea’s shorts, contacting the seat upon which she sat.

“I was helping a friend with something and it took longer than I thought it would.” Jordan said, starting to pedal and pulling her phone out.  She had a text message.

“Were you crying?” Chelsea asked. Her voice had a bit more concern on that question.

“What?  No.” Jordan said, instinctively rubbing her eyes.  “Something flew into my open window while I was driving over here.”

“Hmmm…Maybe cigarette ash or something.” Chelsea said.

There wasn’t much more conversation between Jordan and Chelsea once they got going on their exercise bikes.  Jordan enjoyed the vantage point here since she could see everyone.  Staring at hot guys often made the workout go by faster. The text message conversation she was having with Claire was also making time go by fast as well.

Jordan heard that wonderful beeping sound from her machine when she reached the coveted 60 minute mark and she gratefully stopped pedaling.  She dried her perspiring face and rose from the bike seat.  She quickly sprayed her excess perspiration off the tiny glistening bike seat and Chelsea did the same.

“Core?” Chelsea asked, patting her flat stomach. Jordan nodded and the two made their way to the aerobic room which was mostly empty when there weren’t any scheduled classes.

“Who have you been texting this whole time?”

Jordan looked up to the inquisitive eyes of Chelsea, her breasts puffed out as she stretched her arms behind her back.

“Oh, it’s just a friend who’s visiting from out of town.  She came for my graduation.”

“Oh, do I know her?” Chelsea asked.

“No, definitely not.  She used to live here awhile ago but she moved to California.  She’s really, REALLY weird…but also kinda interesting.”

There was a brief silence as the girls got into position to perform brief post-workout stretches and then made their way over to the sauna.

“So are you all ready for college?” Jordan asked Chelsea, her finger dancing over her phone screen as she responded to another text from Claire.

Chelsea smirked. “Oh, yeah; it's gonna be a piece of cake.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Jordan said with a waive of her hand. “It was stupid easy for me.  You just gotta get the right….hmmm…how do I put it…study buddy.” Do you remember Brad Smith?”

“From high school, right?  The dorky guy that you had completely wrapped around your finger since like Freshman year?  That boy was so hopelessly in love with you it was almost too sad to laugh at.”

Jordan giggled, “Well, I kept him on payroll after high school graduation.”

Chelsea’s eyes widened, “Seriously?  I think I remember hearing that he turned down some full ride scholarship to some fancy ivy league school on the other side of the country…..no way…are you the reason why he turned it down and stayed local???”

Jordan nodded proudly, “He got a job at a fast food restaurant…he might have made it to manager or something; I have no idea.  But anyway, I timed out my visits home so that I could give a lot of my assignments to him and he would just do them.  Most of the time I would sit in his dining room with him and play on my phone while he finished them but sometimes I’d just leave and go hang out with friends!”

“Jeez!” Chelsea exclaimed, “And he didn’t care?”

“Sometimes he’d get all annoying and try to start conversations about a relationship…I almost couldn’t say that without laughing…can you imagine?  Anyway, whenever he got all whiny like that, I’d just make sure my thong or bra straps were showing…” Jordan made a knife hand gesture with her right hand and pointed it straight out in front of her, “...and he was locked right back in.”

“God, what a loser!” Chelsea laughed.

“Oh, that’s nothing.” Jordan had to steady her giggles, “Sometimes during busy weeks where a lot was going on…or if I was just too lazy to come back home, I even got him to drive all the way down to my school.”

“No way.” Chelsea laughed, “You’re lying!”

“Honest!” Jordan said, placing a hand over her huge chest.  “He’d come all that way just to do my homework or write up my cheat sheets.  And then I’d have him sleep in my boyfriend’s dorm room since…well..you know…my boyfriend would be sleeping with me in mine!”

“Now I know you’re lying.  Jake would never let a wimp like Brad sleep in his bed. Didn’t he bully Brad and like…literally take his lunch money?”

“Haha, yes he did and you’re right! Jake made him sleep on the floor with the blanket and pillow he brought from home! I probably could have gotten him to stay up and do Jake’s work too but I needed him full energy for the next day!”

“Ladies…” one of the gym employees said, opening the sauna door.  “You’re going to have to keep the volume down.  We’re getting complaints from out on the gym floor of some very loud laughing from in here.”

“Sorry!” Chelsea sang as the door shut behind the frowning gym employee. She looked back to Jordan, the two wiping tears from their cheeks from laughing, “That is just so friggin sad.”

“I can’t believe how easily he can be manipulated…” Chelsea mused in wonder, “It sounds like they may as well just give me my diploma now.”

As Chelsea giggled, Jordan’s brow furrowed.  “What do you mean?”

Chelsea’s laughing face turned interesting.  “Oh…umm….I mean, I’m gonna try and find someone like that and take advantage of them too.”

Jordan’s expression softened, “Yeah, you definitely should.  Worked wonders for me!”

“That…umm…reminds me….since I’m not gonna have a ‘Brad’ at university with me like you did, at least not right away, can I have that calculator? Since you don’t need it anymore?”

“Which one?” Jordan asked, scanning her mind and coming with no results.

“That super fancy one…the TI something.”

“Oh, that one!” Jordan said, "the light bulb going off over her head.”  Sure!  Brad actually bought that for me. I never even took it out of the packaging; haha.  I didn’t need it since he was basically doing all the work anyway.”

“I really gotta get me one of those..” Chelsea said.

“Well, like I said you can have mine.”

“I meant a thirsty loser like Brad!”

“Haha.  Well, I’m losing mine so I can’t help you out there…”

“Huh?” Chelsea asked. “What happened?”

“I guess he got tired of doing all my work for me and getting really nothing in return.” Jordan said, pouting.

“Ugh…seriously?” Chelsea asked in disgust.

“Yeah…can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t.  He stayed in this town waiting for you..didn’t he also like give you a credit card that was attached to his bank account too?”

“It was just a regular dumb checking account card; he barely had any money in there like ever.”

“Well still, he like…literally threw his future away for you..and now that you’re finally done with school he’s just up and leaving?”

“Yeah..he made a stupid joke about how we could hang out without him having to do my school work and I reminded him that he’d be able to help me with my job stuff whenever I started working and he got all whiny again.”

“That’s so stupid…” Chelsea sighed in disappointment.

“Ugh..I know.  He said something about not wanting to waste his life waiting for someone who doesn’t feel the same way or some sappy shit like that.  The only fucked up part that bothers me aside from having to find someone else to worship me is…I’m pretty sure he’s talking to some other girl.”

“How can you tell?”

“Just the way he was talking to me.  It was really frustrating.  I was wearing a low-cut shirt, I was playing with my hair. It's like he was barely paying attention to me.”

“And it’d bother you if he found another girl?  It sounds like you like him.” Chelsea said teasingly.

“Good lord, no!  I’m only mad because it takes attention from me.” Jordan said plainly.

“You really are a bitch…haha” Chelsea replied with a giggle to which Jordan joined in laughing.

“Whatever!”

“God..I am sweating like a friggin’ pig in here. Are we done?” Chelsea asked hopefully.

“Yeah, let's get out of here.” Jordan said, standing up. Both girls left behind a wide, sizeable, double-circular sweat print on the sauna bench where they’d sat.

“So do I get to meet this Claire girl? She must be pretty interesting considering you’ve been texting her this entire time.” Chelsea teased.

“Oh yeah, she’s still there.  Like I said though, she’s a little weird.  She might be autistic or something but she’s more or less alright.”

~

Jordan and Claire's Text Conversation:

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 5 - The Sitting Test

[Claire]

“Alright, my little pioneer!  The last thing I wanna test is your durability.”

Claire’s ears perked up when she heard voices outside the house near the front door…and then the sound of the front door opening.  She was about 99% sure that it was Jordan because Amina and Evette weren’t due home from their concert thing until later that night and it was only around 5pm.

Just in case, Claire roughly scooped Adam up into her hand and cupped him, her fingers transforming into the fleshy bars of a cage around him. Even if it was Jordan, she apparently had her friend with her anyway so hiding Adam made sense.

“Stop with the squeaking!” Claire hissed as the door opened and shoes clunked noisily at the entrance.

Claire ever-so-slightly loosened her iron grip on Adam when she saw that it was Jordan and her friend rounding the corner instead of Evette or Amina.

Both girls looked a bit disheveled, their cheeks rosy red and their hair messy with flyaways and drying sweat.  It must have been a major workout because both girls’ attire was darkly damp under their arms and under their breasts.  When Jordan grabbed a bottle of coconut water from the fridge, Claire noticed the same dark dampness on her lower back that continued into a wide triangle of perspiration over the top of her bright pink gym shorts, ultimately terminating in her crack.

“Crazy workout?”

“Just a normal one.” Jordan hungrily guzzled down a quarter of the coconut water. She scanned the table, clearly looking for Adam but didn’t see him since he was still in the cage that was Claire’s right hand.

“How’s everything going?”

“Great, I’ve just got one more test to finish up and then we’re all done.” Claire replied.

“Cool, I’ll be right back; just gotta grab something for my friend.  This is Chelsea. She’s the one I went to high school with and–”

“--did you grab my hibiscus drink from the coffee place?” Claire interrupted.

“Uhh..no.” Jordan said, both girls appearing thrown off a bit. “I forgot to stop.”

“Ugh…fine.” Claire said, returning to writing notes down in her notebook, looking back and forth at her phone for reference. She heard the two whisper something to one another and then Jordan said, “I’ll go grab it for you. Be right back.”

Claire could tell that the room was a bit awkward as Chelsea stood there alone without Jordan there.  It didn’t particularly bother her, she much preferred silence as it made it easier to focus on–”

“--So how do you know Jordan?” Chelsea asked.

Claire internally rolled her eyes and replied, “Her mom was my teacher in high school…and then I started tutoring Jordan as a favor to her mom. What about you?”

Chelsea replied, “Oh, I’ve known her since around middle school, maybe late elementary school.”

The brunette girl with pigtails leaned in toward the table and Claire’s eyes widened as Chelsea reached for the circular disc filled with a rose-pink cream.

“What is this lotion, can I have some?” Chelsea squinted at the label. “What’s this say? Os-mo-lotion?”

“Gimme that!” Claire exclaimed eagerly, standing up from her chair enough to reach for the disk of rose-pink cream, snatching it out of Chelsea’s curious hands.

“That’s not for moisturizing.” Claire said, grabbing the disc.  In Chelsea’s defense, it really did look just like any typical, boring beauty product. In reality, it was anything but boring and typical.  Claire had been testing it for months now and was not about to let any go to waste.

“Okay sorry; jeez.” Chelsea said.

Just in the nick of time, the floor shook with Jordan’s heavy footfalls.

‘Awww…’ Claire thought with a smile, looking down at her cupped hand. ‘He’s shaking…’

Little Adam was literally trembling at the sound of his massive daughter.  In his defense, it must have been pretty freaking epic at his size to hear the loud banging of her heavy footfalls.

“Here ya go.” Jordan said, handing over to Chelsea what looked like a calculator still in its original packaging.

“Thanks.” Chelsea said, looking blindly at the front and back, “Do you…uh….know how to use it? It looks complicated; like a mini computer.”

“No idea.” Jordan shrugged, “I never opened it; never used it, remember?”

Claire peeked up to get a better look and then smiled.  She recognized it instantly and a clever idea crept into her head.  While the two girls were distracted with the packaged calculator, Claire brought her closed fist over to the chair that Jordan had been sitting in earlier that day before the gym and opened her fingers.  Adam tumbled out onto the hard wooden surface and after he gathered his wits, he looked up at Claire.

“If you don’t move, you’re done after this.” Claire whispered.

“Is that a TI-89?”

Chelsea looked confused for a moment, her bottom lip pouting out, “I dunno…” she started looking over the front, “It says it's–oh yeah, TI-89 Titanium.”

“Come have a seat.” Claire said, gesturing toward the seat across from her. “I’ll help you set it up.”

Chelsea approached the table and started to sit down in the chair adjacent to Claire.

“No, not here.” Claire said, protectively guarding the chair.  “This is Jordan’s seat.”

A shifty-eyed, non-verbal message was sent by Chelsea to Jordan who gave a placating nod.  Claire smiled, watching the shadow of Chelsea’s ass disappear from Adam, but then a much bigger shadow appeared over his head.  It must have been quite a sight to behold…that huge jiggly butt widening as Jordan bent at the waist and lowered her hips to thoughtlessly sit down.

The last shot her mind snapped of Adam was him collapsing backward onto his back, his left hand comically stretched up, as if it alone could stop the descent of, to him, hundreds of thousands of pounds of soft, sweaty ass flesh. In the end, he’d fallen onto the seat such that his body was aligned on the direct center of Jordan’s huge left ass cheek.

Jordan hit the seat hard and tucked her feet between the legs of the chair, allowing the chair’s hard wooden seat to accept most of her weight. Hot pink mesh splayed out, deforming under the considerable weight and Claire bit her lip to avoid laughing.

‘It friggin’ swallowed him up.’ Claire giggled to herself.  “...and she literally doesn’t even feel him.’

Claire gave it another second or two to see if Jordan would notice her former father down under her considerable ass but she didn’t.  She only scooted the chair closer to the table.

“...Hello?” Claire broke eye contact with the side of Jordan’s ass pressing into the seat and looked up to see both girls staring in confusion.

“Here ya go…” Chelsea said hesitantly, handing the opened calculator to Claire.

It wasn’t hard to set the calculator up and explain what it could do…the hard part was doing it without bursting out laughing about what Adam was going through. She could see the girls making weird faces to each other but she just didn’t care; this was just too funny.

“So it can do matrix manipulation, differentiation, definite and indefinite integrals and–”

“--I think someone told me it has Snake on it too. Is that true?” Chelsea interjected.

“...uh…the game?  I don't know.  Anyway, you can store variables and even program formulae into the memory to use later on like during exams and stuff.  They’re pretty cool.”

Jordan shifted in her seat, scooting a bit left and right to get comfy.

Claire ran Chelsea through a few of the operations.  The more Claire went on, the more convinced she was that Chelsea would have probably been fine with a calculator that came out of a MacDonald’s happy meal.

“Anyway, that’s most of it.  Just always make sure you don’t ever accidentally change it to radians and forget to change it back.”

Chelsea’s mind looked blown, but she nodded her head cautiously and stuffed the calculator into her purse.

“Alright, thanks Jordan.  And Claire…uh…nice to meet you.” Chelsea said half-politely.

Chair legs scraped the floor as Chelsea stood up from her chair.

“Okay, I think I’ll just walk home from here.  Jordan, can you unlock your Prius so I can get my water bottle?”

Jordan lifted her butt to lessen the weight on the chair just enough to scoot it out from under the table and then momentarily crashed back down onto it again as she rotated 90 degrees toward the living room.

“Sure, I’ll follow you out.”

Claire’s eyes were practically glued to Jordan’s undulating backside as the two walked toward the front door.  She noticed that Jordan had a bit of a wedgie, a good portion of the damp mesh nylon shorts digging up between her big, swaying cheeks as she swung her hips and shook her big, jiggly ass.

How Chelsea could somehow resist staring at all that booty meat was completely beyond Claire.  Maybe Chelsea wasn’t into girls, but neither was Claire and she couldn't look away!

The dirty blonde looked down at the seat to find Adam and giggled.  He was nowhere to be seen.  Not on the seat.  Not on the floor around the seat.  Not anywhere.

‘Well…he’s definitely somewhere…’ Claire giggled to herself, unable to even picture in her mind what it must be like for Adam to be so surrounded and consumed, buried in all that sweaty, jiggly fluff.

Jordan’s upper thighs shook rhythmically as she returned to the dining room, and Claire noticed that her shorts were riding up slightly..attractive wrinkles in the fabric around her crotch made her legs look even larger than they were.

“Are you alright?” Jordan asked with concern and annoyance in her voice.  “Your face is turning red.”

Claire was cupping a hand over her mouth and nose; all that was visible to Jordan was her eyes and she was giggling like a girl at her first sleepover.

“Nothing, nothing.  Are you ready for the results of the last test?” Claire asked.

Jordan, one hand on her wide hip squinted, “Uh..I guess? What was the test?”

“Durability.” Claire said, clearing her throat and tucking away the last giggle…for now.

“Okay? What were the results?”

“Turn around and I’ll tell ya.” Claire said.

Jordan hesitantly obliged, facing her large, curvy bottom toward Claire.

“Okay, back up…keep backing up.” Claire instructed as Jordan’s round ass got closer to the table.

“Little further.” Claire urged.

The weight of Jordan’s heavy cheeks were now being partially accepted by the surface of the table. “Any further and I’ll be sitting on the table.” Jordan replied with growing annoyance.

Once enough Jordan’s ass was resting on the table, Claire gave her next instruction.

“Okay, now spread your cheeks.”

“What the fuck?” Jordan said, looking over her shoulder.

“Just do it!” Claire beckoned.  “Fix your dumb wedgie!”

Jordan sighed.  The fingers on her left hand pressed into her left butt cheek, creating four dents in the hot pink cushion as she pried her left cheek away from its sister.  Her right hand was gently tugging on the pink mesh material of her shorts, evicting the damp, bunched up nylon material from between her large glutes.

Claire watched as those massive cheeks finally parted enough for Adam’s tiny naked body to become visible in one of the complicated but slowly disappearing wrinkles of nylon buried in Jordan’s crack.  The naked man fell clumsily to the table.

Claire burst out laughing, “It’s a boy!”

She leaned in closer to inspect Adam. He was a crumpled mess and there was an amusing shine to his skin from his time in Jordan’s crack but he was breathing and nothing appeared broken.

He was fine!

“What?” Jordan peered over her shoulder, still holding her large cheeks apart.

“Are you freaking kidding me?  How the heck did you even put him in there?”  Jordan sounded more impressed and disgusted than angry as she let her butt cheeks bounce back into their tight and sandwiched position against one another.

“I put him on your seat before you sat down.” Claire said proudly.

Disgust gave way to amazement and amusement as Jordan chuckled, “Seriously?  The whole time you were setting up the calculator?  I didn’t even feel him down there..like, not at all.”

“Rinse him off.” Claire said.

“You do it.” Jordan said, her upper lip curled in disgust.

“He’s got YOUR buttsweat all over him.” Claire exclaimed.

“Cause YOU put him there!” Jordan protested indignantly.

“Ugh…just do it.” Claire said and Jordan caved, bringing Adam to the sink.

“It's funny that you didn’t want me putting him in my sock..”

Jordan positioned Adam under the faucet, she didn’t bother to plug the drain leading to the garbage disposal.

“...cause you were worried that my toes would crush him…

The cold water rushed out quickly and Adam was completely enveloped in the icy stream.

“...but you’re okay with me sitting on him full weight…”

Jordan allowed Adam’s body to slip and slide against the wet skin of her hands, snaking him through her fingers.

“...and him getting wedged up in my crack.”

Jordan set a paper towel down on the table and then dropped Adam onto it.  It was funny, she was way more careful with placing the paper towel than her former father.

“Well, your butt is friggin’ HUGE first of all.” Claire said giggling.

Jordan sucked her teeth and stuck her tongue out.

“And butts are SUPER SOFT compared to toes.  I figured it would be just like two huge pillows and I was right!  Maybe one day we’ll do a toe test but…”

Claire looked down at Adam who was trying to dry his freezing naked body on the huge paper towel. She picked him up. Claire then set him down on the amplification prototype and flicked the switch on.

“...a promise is a promise.  That’s all the tests, Adam.  You’re officially done with the evaluation and your confinement in Evette’s boob.  Congratulations!”

“Can you grow me back now?  Please, Claire?” Adam asked hesitantly.  He couldn’t have been happy about everything he’d been through the past 4 and a half years.  He surely wasn’t happy about the last few hours of tests, and Claire wasn’t a gambler, but she would have bet that he didn’t enjoy being trapped in Jordan’s juicy badonkadonk. Still, he wasn’t complaining or objecting to anything. He wasn’t yelling or screaming.  There was just..so much hope in his eyes.

Claire couldn’t even conceive in her mind of the most fun way to do this, ‘...but here goes..’, she thought.

“Ah, ah, ah…” Claire wagged her index finger left and right in time with her teasing. “So, so close, little Adam but not quite yet.  I’m done with my evaluation but you’re forgetting what comes next.”

Claire gestured toward Jordan, who was crossing her arms and staring down at Adam.

“Jord…Ms. Maziotto still has to give you your punishment first, remember?”

The dirty blonde could see the dread in his eyes and she loved it.  She only regretted not having a stronger magnifying glass.

Both Adam and Claire looked to Jordan.

Jordan donned upon her face an ugly sneer.  “People at school found out, ya know…”

“...what?” Adam asked hesitantly.

Apparently that question got Jordan super mad.  “PEOPLE AT SCHOOL FOUND OUT THAT YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON MY MOM. SHE WAS A TEACHER AT THAT SCHOOL, YOU SHIT-FOR-BRAINS, SOCK WORSHIPING, FAT-MUNCHING TIT PARASITE! PEOPLE TALKED BEHIND MY BACK FOR MY ENTIRE LAST HALF OF MY SENIOR YEAR! DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS FOR ME?”

“Who could have possibly told them that?” Adam asked.

The question completely caught Claire off guard. The dirty blonde shifted uncomfortably in her seat and nervously played with her dirty blonde hair. She couldn’t believe that Adam mustered the courage to actually ask her a question, and judging from how much white was visible in Jordan’s widened eyes, she didn’t either.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP. I’M NOT HERE TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT CLAIRE PROMISED YOU.  IF YOU SAY ONE MORE WORD, I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL FUCKING SWALLOW YOU.”

That seemed to shut him up quite nicely.  Claire sighed in relief, but the silence of the dining room was deafening as Jordan thought of what to say.

“Fucking wait right here.”

Jordan stomped out of the dining room and upstairs.

“Jeez, she sure is mad” Claire said awkwardly, “…you fucked up, Adam.”

“Did you spread that rumor? Did you do this?”

Claire smiled down at Adam.

“Do you remember when I pricked you at that dumb Star Wars thing 4 years ago?  Shrunk you right in that movie theater. I know it was a long time ago but..like..search your memory.”

Adam didn’t say anything.

“I know you remember, you goof.  Anyway, did you ever wonder why I did it in the open like that? At the risk of getting caught? Ya know…I planned on doing it later on that night. I expected I’d have to take you back to my house or follow you back to yours.  I expected that I might even have to make out with you a bit or maybe even get into your bed…but I was going to do it in your house. I was going to shrink you within the walls of your home and then take you back to mine.  But if you remember, I didn’t.  Why did I do it at the venue?”

Claire leaned in toward a cowering naked Adam.

“Because I was SOOOOOO fucking bored, I couldn’t possibly have lasted through the entire ordeal of that dumb virgin-crowded congregation. And I couldn’t exactly leave without you so….yeah.”

Claire sat back in her seat and might have said more, but she heard Jordan’s thunderous footsteps echo down the stairs.  She chipperly stated, “Uh-oh….Ms. Maziotto is back. I just thought you should know that before the next part.”

Jordan rounded the corner and Adam immediately started wailing. Claire couldn’t help but giggle.

Pinched between Jordan’s fingers was a skimpy black thong.

“Let’s see if you can tell who THIS belongs to.” Jordan said, setting the thong down on the table near Adam.

“Climb into it.”

Poor Adam hesitated and stalled, hoping that Jordan might change his mind. What a silly boy.

“Ms. Maziotto..please..”

“I’M NOT GOING TO CHANGE MY FUCKING MIND.  YOU RUINED MY SENIOR YEAR.  YOU RUINED MY PERFECT FAMILY. I’VE DECIDED YOUR PUNISHMENT AND ITS DAMN WELL GOING TO FIT THE CRIME.  YOU WANT TO QUESTION ME, FINE.  CLIMB INTO THE FUCKING THONG!”

“I can’t do this!  Please…I can’t do this again!” Adam sobbed uncontrollably.  He was literally weeping and begging his daughter to take mercy on him.  To pity him.  Anything to prevent this.

“I’m not changing my mind.  And since you felt comfortable enough to actually question my thought process and my struggles, you’re going to spend the rest of the day in Amina’s thong…pretty much up until you’re injected into Amina’s boob.”

“Her boob?! Ms. Maziotto, I can’t!  Please, anything but that!  I’ll do anything..I’ll go anywhere. Please don’t make me! I’m begging you! I–”

CLICK

Jordan’s finger left the switch that she’d just flipped off for the amplification prototype.

Jordan pinched the thong, moving it so that it unfolded before Adam.  “I’m going to let you pick where you want to go, as infinitely generous as that may be…but if you don’t go right now, I’m going to fucking sew you to the string that wedges in her crack.”

Adam wept as he crawled off the amplification prototype toward the racy black thong.  Claire held the magnifying glass over top of him, watching closely as he reluctantly crawled toward the sexy underwear and burrowed into the crotch of the panties.

“I can literally hear him crying even without the amplifier.” Claire giggled.

“Ugh…so fucking pathetic.” Jordan said, her hands on her wide hips.  “Put him and the thong in my mom’s sock so we can at least have some peace and quiet while we plan this out.”

~

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Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 6 - Another Injection

[Adam]

Adam couldn’t believe how much comfort his ex-wife’s well-worn sock was bestowing upon his psyche.  He could think back to when they’d first met.  Even when they were reckless, foolish teenagers he’d abstained from anything that had to do with Evette’s feet.  

He vividly remembered one occasion where she’d returned from a long day of walking for work and set her hot bare feet atop his lap on the couch, asking him to rub them.  He politely refused, as touching feet was not something he ever thought he’d be okay with.  And here he was now, trying to ignore the pervasive, persistent scent of Amina’s sex and focus on the earthy aroma of Evette’s foot within the world of her sock.

After Jordan had picked up the thong to which Adam held on for dear life, the last thing he saw clearly was himself and the black racey thong plummeting down into the toe section of Evette’s light and dark gray striped sock. Where Claire and Jordan put him and the sock after that, who the hell knew? It wasn’t until a few hours later that he realized he was in the living room.

Adam felt his thong and sock world shifting and shaking around him. When the light rushed in, he saw Claire’s smiling face.  Adam couldn’t have conceived of a timeline where he’d be more relieved to see the satanic dirty blonde, but now that Jordan had made clear how much she hated him, any face other than hers was probably good for him.

“Claire…” Adam whined, but she couldn't hear him.  No one could hear him at this diminutive size.

She was holding a syringe.  A god-awful syringe.  Why was she doing this to him? Was she literally the devil incarnate? No human could be this sadistic.  No cute 20-something girl could be this life-changing and devastating.

“Please, Claire.  You don’t have to.”

She didn’t respond…why would she?  Even if she could hear him she wouldn’t care. Or she would just laugh at him like she always fucking did. Instead, she unscrewed the top of the syringe and deposited him into the chamber and reattached the lid.  For the first time since Jordan had spit on him…no…since he’d been wedged firmly between Jordan’s big, heavy sweaty ass cheeks…no…since Jordan had given him that ice-cold bath after being covered in her ass sweat…he was once again surrounded by liquid.  As much as he hated to admit it, he had grown accustomed to it…to breathing in the fluid. He had grown accustomed to…god forbid he even admit to himself…eating.

Adam had no control over what was going to happen. He knew that the girls wanted him in Amina’s breast so that was where he was going. End of story.  The only thing that could have saved him in this moment was if they were sloppy enough to actually alert them that he was there in that syringe.

‘It wasn’t impossible…’ Adam thought optimistically.  He was about 1 cm tall now. He thought back to when Evette peered into his syringe right before he was injected into her breast.  She saw nothing…but if Amina were to do that now, she’d most certainly see him, even if she only registered him as a strange floater.  At least a strange floater could potentially lead to a question or two!

“Don’t forget.” Claire said quietly, looking up periodically to make sure that no one was coming into the kitchen.

“...since you’re like way bigger than the last time I injected you, I have to use a way bigger needle on Amina.  Even so, I’m still trying to use as small a needle as possible otherwise she won’t be okay with the pain.  That means the inconvenience is falling on you.  I”m using a #13 gauge needle, and even that is way bigger than I should be using.  Its inner diameter is 0.1803cm and your width is around 0.25cm.  That means the needle stem’s inner tubing that will lead you to your 6-month home is like 75% of your width.  I’m not gonna lie to you and I’m not gonna sugarcoat it: It’s going to be a TIGHT, TIGHT fit.  You really, REALLY need to hug your shoulders tight and cross your legs.  It's super important that you’re able to squeeze in through that more narrow stem.  If you don’t…well…my big scary thumb on the plunger is going to force you into Amina’s tit one way or another…whether it's all in one unaffected piece, one smooshed piece, or multiple pieces.  It’s gonna be a SUPER tight fit through the stem of the needle.  If you don’t do it…LISTEN TO ME!.”

Adam was shocked back to reality by the urgency in Claire’s voice.

“If you don’t do everything you can to decrease your diameter, you will NOT make it through alive.”

Adam’s lower lip quivered as he solemnly nodded his head up and down.

“I’ve never injected a dead boy into a titty before, and I don’t plan on starting now.”

He was so nervous and didn’t want to do this, but apparently Jordan was not going to cave.  He needed to pay his dues…but the worst part of it all was that she was just flat-out wrong.  He tried his best to correct her, but there just wasn’t an opportunity and she just wouldn’t listen.  And now he was going to basically be punished for the adulterous crimes that Evette had committed.  He reflected on the feelings he’d felt when being dropped into her sock.

Sure it was utterly humiliating to be trapped in the well-worn sock of your daughter…and being surrounded by the pronounced odor of Claire’s feet was certainly no better, but something about Amina’s sock…it even smelled pleasant to him! So why did it feel like his cock wanted to crawl up inside of his body? Why did it make him light-headed and afraid?  

What was it about being subjected to the ghost of Amina’s foot?  The scariest part about what was happening was he had no idea what it would be like after he started Jordan’s punishment.  He had gotten used to Evette’s tit over 4 years…but if he had that kind of a reaction to a pink cotton sock’s memory of Amina’s dainty foot, how the fuck was he going to handle being fully submerged and buried in her mammary tissue?

Adam watched gratefully as Jordan lifted Amina’s skimpy black thong and took it along with Evette’s sanctuary of a sock to the laundry room.  Claire then set the syringe that he called his temporary home atop the mantle of the fireplace.  It was a discrete location that nobody in the house looked at so Adam judged that the girls were correct in stashing him there for now.

Another hour or so went by, and Adam’s only source of entertainment was the mixture of red, blue, and green colors randomly changing their light distribution cast upon the angelic young faces of his daughter and his nightmare. They were watching TV..or a movie or something.  Adam would have liked to watch with them, but being able to even watch them was entertaining enough.  There wasn’t much entertainment where he came from…and there wouldn’t be much where he was going tonight.

‘It’s just 6 months…you did 4 fucking years…you can do 6 months..he tried psyching himself up. It was actually working up until he heard keys jingling in the front door and then mild April air rushing in through the entrance.

“Hey Mom, hey Amina.”

That was Jordan’s voice…and she was obviously talking to Evette and Amina.  Something inside Adam almost felt jealous of the fact that Evette had an experience without him.  He’d been around for so much for so long, the thought of her living her life without him deep inside her cushiony, protective tit actually upset him on some deep, animalistic level.  Adam did his best to ignore it.

“Hi girls…” Evette slurred, stumbling into the doorway as she kicked her sneakers off.  Amina followed suit, her balance seemingly even worse than her wife’s.

“Have you been good while we were gone?” Evette tried to say, but her lips were not moving as quickly as her mind apparently.  Claire and Jordan apparently picked up enough of the context to respond.

“We were good.   Did you have a good night?”

“Oh, we sure did.” Amina exclaimed, removing her sweater and exposing a breathtaking amount of cleavage.  Adam then heard wet lips smacking and knew right away that it was Amina kissing Evette.  After 4+ years, he trusted his judgment to assess these things.  He’d have bet his life on it…not an impressive bet considering what his life meant to him at this moment. 

He whimpered, his cock as soft as could be while he breathed in the aroma of Amina, who was feeling up his lovely ex-wife right there at the doorway. The only reason he felt like he could even keep going despite all the impending doom he felt within his heart was due to the scent of Evette’s feet.  Life really was full of surprises.

“Uhh…get a room maybe?” Jordan said in disapproval.

Adam was in full agreement with his daughter..but he wouldn’t dare speak to her in order to let her know…even if she did allow him the forum to do so which he suspected she never would again.

He heard more smooching from the happy married couple and more groans of disapproval from Jordan.

“I’m going to bed sweety. Are you coming?” Evette purred.

“Ya…justuh…gotta gettuhh…duhrink..” Amina stammered. She was positively smashed.

As he breathed in the scent of Amina’s strong, musky pussy, he watched through the fibers of the discarded sock his ex-wife’s lover plop down on the couch.

“Did I ever……hiccup….tell you how proud I am of you, Jordan?” Amina said, smiling.

“Yeah Amina.  At graduation.” Jordan said, grabbing Amina’s flip flops and sliding them off her feet.

“Oh whoops!” Amina jovially giggled, seeing that she’d been wearing her footwear in the house.

“Don’t tell your mother!”

Jordan actually laughed.  God, despite everything that had happened and how much she hated him, Adam loved seeing his daughter laugh. As much as he hated Amina too, the parent in him appreciated that she seemed to be taking such good care of his daughter.

Jordan positioned a pillow on the couch and Amina quickly scooted her bare feet up onto the other side of the couch and closed her eyes.

His daughter then gestured toward Claire.

This was the moment.  Amina had served it to them on a silver platter.

Adam felt his world jostling as Claire’s fingers encircled the clear enclosure imprisoning him.

It was really going to happen…and it was going to happen now.

Claire approached Jordan, who was down on the side of the couch where Amina’s bare feet were propped up on the couch’s arm.

“Do you want the honors?” Claire asked, extending the syringe out to Jordan.

Jordan’s eyes widened and a smile crept across her young face. “Uhhh….yeah?”

Adam winced as he was handed over to Jordan and he felt even more vulnerable here in his daughter’s hand than he’d ever felt before.  His stomach lurched as he soared through the air toward the soles of Amina’s feet.  They were slightly dirty, clearly having worn flip flops for the whole day.

“There’s fat in the bottoms of feet right?” Jordan said, sliding the cylindrical chamber of the syringe into the natural curl of Amina’s toes. It was such a snug fit that she could have let go and the natural curl of Amina’s chubby toes would have been enough to actually hold Adam and his syringe in place.

“Uh…that’s a great question.  There is, but we’ll test that out another day.  Let’s stick with what we know for now:  the boob.”

Jordan nodded and removed Adam from the clutches of Amina’s chubby, sleepy toes and began walking him up toward the other side of the couch.

Luckily, Amina was wearing a low-cut top showing plenty of cleavage.

Claire gently squeezed the big toe on Amina’s left foot, seeing if she would respond.  She then ran her fingernails gently up Amina’s slightly dirty sole.  Her toes curled reflexively and her foot moved a bit, but she didn’t so much as alter her slow breathing.

“You were right.  She’s like fully out.  This couldn’t have worked out better.” Claire said with a grin.  “We don’t even have to ask, we can just do it.”

The miniscule man cringed as he felt Jordan’s massive eye consuming his peripherals and all his other senses seemed to turn off in an effort to dedicate full energy to seeing.  She was looking in closely at him, and he knew he was big enough to be seen. Part of him wished he wasn’t.

Adam looked around the living room one more time.  He remembered back to when he was injected 4 years ago and how he was sure that it was the end..that it was the last time he’d see unfiltered light, hear unfiltered speech, and have unfiltered experiences.  But here he was on the outside again. As Claire gently lowered Amina’s top to expose her soft pink nipple and Jordan began moving the syringe in toward the lesbian’s breast, Adam had to tell himself that this too was temporary.  This too would pass. Nothing is forever.

Claire was gently playing with Amina’s toes..Adam assumed to distract her partially conscious mind from focusing on the syringe biting right below her nipple.  The stem was in and Adam saw that familiar pink ring of darkness beneath him.  He knew it was where he was going, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it…and he couldn't believe that it was his own daughter forcing him to do it…figuratively and literally.

And then…Adam’s heart leapt into his chest.  He heard footsteps on the stairs.

Everyone was here in the living room except for one person.

“Evette!” Adam thought frantically.  He swam like a helpless little fish within the chamber, reorienting himself to look toward the steps.

He didn’t know if it would be a good thing or a bad thing for him if Claire and Jordan were to be caught performing an injection on an unconscious Amina but he suspected that his injection would at the very least be postponed if not canceled all together.  And then maybe he could go home without any punishment at all!  Maybe Evette would even straighten things out and let Jordan know that it wasn’t he who cheated.

He could let her know that she was in fact injecting him into one of the cheaters! He’d be grown back and Jordan would hug him so tight his lungs would deflate..she’d have tears in her eyes as she apologized to him for the misunderstanding. She’d beg him to forgive her…and he would.  Maybe Claire would beg for forgiveness, too…and even though he’d spent years wanting to kill her, he could honestly say in his heart that he would forgive her too.  Anything to end this.

The plunger began sinking above him and forcing the surrounding fluid down through the stem.

‘Please Evette…please come down faster…catch them…you have to catch them…” Adam prayed.

Amina shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, a frown on her sleeping face but it only lasted for a moment. Jordan continued forcing her father into Amina’s left tit.  Adam was so worried about the width of the stem that he wasn’t even worried right now about what was on the other side of it.

He couldn’t focus on what the girls were whispering to each other, but their voices sounded far more urgent.  They understood like he did what was on the line right now.

Things were narrowing down significantly and Adam felt like he was in a glass chimney.  He hugged his shoulders tightly as he was instructed but still he felt his bare shoulders, back, and his chest contacting the cylindrical walls of the #14 gauge syringe.  He was incredibly claustrophobic and found himself praying to god that he would successfully make it through the syringe stem and into the breast tissue.  For a fraction of a second, he felt himself stop moving.  He was stuck!  The powerful thumb on the plunger did not rest, and nor did the mounting pressure over his head.  He felt like it was going to compress his spine into dust, but in an impressive feat of quick thinking, Adam exhaled all the sustenance from his lungs and only then did he feel the glass pressure on all sides relent just enough to continue his slide down, down, down.

Adam looked up as the lights went out, Evette was still making her way down the stairs and he realized that she probably wasn’t going to make it in time.  These cunning girls were going to win…they were probably going to get away with it just in time.

He wished he could see his beautiful daughter’s face one more time, even though she hated him.  Adam knew that even when he came back out in 6 months he wouldn’t be able to reach out to her.  He hoped that maybe she would forgive him in the next 6 months…and hey, he’d be getting out basically just in time for Christmas!  It would be the perfect time for a reconciliation…or maybe just a chance to explain his side of the story.

Hopeful thinking, unfortunately, went right out the window as he nestled into the lattice structure of the lesbian’s breast fatty tissue.  Unlike before, he was now about 100 times as large as the breast fat cells.  If Adam were regular sized, the fat cells would have about the same width and height as an Apple Airpod case.  Still,  the millions upon millions of dull amber fat cells that surrounded and hugged him, made him feel extreme intimidation.  Not just because of how many there were and how overpowered he was, but who they belonged to…and what power she had over him without even realizing it.

‘I guess that means I belong to her too…’ Adam thought miserably but tried to be optimistic, ‘...for now…’

He was starving.  THe last thing he’d had was a piece of Claire’s bread from her sandwich but he was convinced she must have defaced it in some way.  It was absolutely disgusting he had no idea how he didn’t throw up right then and there!

Still, as humiliating as it was to admit how delicious the orbular fat cells and their gel-like cytoplasm appeared, he wanted to delay it as long as possible.  He’d eaten the fat of Evette’s tit, but consuming Amina’s fat cells made him feel like the lowest thing in the world.  The last thing he wanted to be able to do was to compare the taste of both women’s tit flesh.

He was shocked out of his contemplation when he heard the voice of Evette.  It was so sweet and he missed it so much.  He hoped against hope that he’d hear concern or inquiry in Evette’s muffled feminine voice.

‘Ask them why they were around Amina!’ he squealed from within Amina’s heavy left tit.  ‘Pull Amina’s tit out and look under her nipple!’

He heard nothing of the sort.  At least as he felt his world rotate 90 degrees and the sound of two sets of feet marching up the stairs, he knew that he was at least going to be close enough to say that he was with Evette even if she had no idea he was there.  Adam heard the muffled sound of bed springs as Amina collapsed.  He had to get used to the jiggling sensation that was reverberating through the entire fatty tissue structure.  Amina’s breasts were nowhere near as large as Evette’s, but Amina’s may as well still have been his entire world.

Adam prayed that they wouldn’t start fooling around.  He knew that the day would come when he’d be privy to Amina fucking his ex-wife silly while he’s got a front row seat to it.  Like watching your favorite sports team DESTROYED while you are forced to sit in the visiting team’s dugout with everyone cheering. He couldn’t believe his luck as he heard both women gently start breathing rhythmically and slowly, Evette’s cute snoring noticeable as ever.  Still, it sounded different now that he was outside of her body

‘...and will never go back,’ he thought.  It was rather pathetic that he couldn’t tell if he was excited about it or depressed about it.

Evette’s breasts compressed against Amina’s as the two shared a sweet, passionate kiss before drifting off to sleep.  Adam cried, wishing there was a way he could track the days.

Christmas. He basically just had to make it to the Christmas season…and this would all be over.  He’d done this before…lord knows he had experience under his belt. However, something about the environment of Amina’s breast felt different. It didn’t just have to do with the humiliation of being buried in the tit fat of the woman who stole your wife…sure, that was knee-bendingly emasculating.  There was something else.  A strange sense of dread…and another feeling…that he couldn’t quite explain brewing inside of him.

~

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 7 - Adam's Next Adventure

[Jordan]

Amina’s head was descending toward the pillow and Jordan fluffed it a few times before her head sank into the white cloudy cushion.  She sighed deeply and thanked Jordan, or at least that’s what Jordan thought she said.

“You didn’t have to give her my pillow…” Claire grumbled under her breath as she approached the fireplace where the syringe had been sitting all along.  Just as they thought, no one noticed it, and now they were ready.

“She’s asleep now. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” Jordan said with a giggle.

“You’re sure?” Claire asked skeptically, looking at Amina’s shut eyes.

“Oh yeah…she is a HEAVY freaking sleeper…” Jordan replied, now lifting Amina’s ankles up off the floor and positioning her bare feet on the arm of the chair.  and they’ve been drinking all night so she’s out like a light.”

The bottoms of Amina’s feet were a bit dirty and she probably should have wiped them off prior to putting them up on the sofa, but Jordan didn’t want to touch them anymore than she had to.

When Jordan looked up from Amina’s bare feet, a smiling Claire was standing across from her and holding out the syringe containing Adam.

“Do you want the honors?”

‘Fuck yes, I do…’ she thought with an intensity that may have scared Claire, so she instead said, “uhhh…yeah?”

It's funny how some things play out.  Jordan didn’t feel any different when the syringe came into contact with her hand, and she didn’t feel any different as she accepted most of the weight of the syringe.  But when Claire let go, leaving Jordan there holding the syringe on her own, an ungodly amount of power rushed through her body and she couldn’t believe how attracted to it she was.

In this syringe, she held her former father..and the fate of his entire life.  She could have gone into the bathroom and squirted him into the toilet and flushed if she wanted to.  Jordan could have gone across the street to Mrs. Millman’s house while she was gardening, waiting for her to squat down at her ugly flowers and squirt him into her crack.  The obese, oblivious woman would probably just think it was sweat or a rogue raindrop and think nothing of it.

Jordan could have even pulled Amina’s lower lip down and gently squirted him into her gums..and then just waited for that sleepy, monstrous tongue to slide out from her pristine white teeth and claim him.  She was a goddess…she could do anything. Her mind raced with more possibilities.  She even briefly considered injecting Adam into the underside of Amina’s foot…surely it would be humiliating to spend six months literally being stepped on with every step the unaware woman made.

Unfortunately, Claire advised against it so Jordan complied with keeping the original plan.

It was a good thing that Evette’s newish tendency to wear booby shirts had rubbed off on Amina.  She was showing a decent amount of cleavage, her right breast pressing into her left as she rotated slightly to press her cheek against the soft white pillow.

Jordan began gently pulling down at Amina’s top, revealing more and more of the woman’s breast…continuing past the tan line, past the bra cup, and then finally exposing the nipple. It was smaller than her own, but it still probably looked like a house to her former father.

“You were right..” Claire grinned, “She’s like…fully out.  THis couldn’t have worked out better. We don’t even have to ask..we can just do it.”

“I just hope the syringe doesn’t wake her up. It’s kinda thick.” Jordan said, looking at the tip.

“Well, it had to be…he’s a big boy.” Claire joked.

“And you’re sure we can’t just use that cream you were talking about? The experimental stuff you mentioned?”

“The Osmolotion?  Absolutely not.” Claire chuckled. “That stuff is still HEAVILY experimental. It's the first thing I’m working on when I get back to California though.”

Jordan peered at the syringe, looking closely at the naked man that used to be her father.  She felt so powerful as she stared in at him, wondering what she must look like to something so small and insignificant.

“And how will we get him out? Wait for her to get drunk again?” Jordan asked, raising the syringe up to her face to peer in. ‘Jeez…’ she thought, ‘...he’s so friggin small, look at him swimming around in there…hard to believe that in a moment, he is going to be swimming instead in Amina’s boob.’

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.  Six months will be plenty of time to plan something.”

Jordan lowered the syringe from her face and began aligning its tip with the exposed portion of Amina’s left breast, right below the nipple.

“And if the plan doesn’t work and we end up needing more time..well…we really have all the time in the world.” Claire justified and Jordan agreed. “I mean…there’s no crazy rush or anything if it ends up going beyond six months.” Claire was gently playing with Amina’s toes, which Jordan thought was kind of weird but then she realized that Claire was probably just trying to distract her from the coming prick of the uncomfortably thick needle.

As soon as the needle’s tip kissed the supple white skin under Amina’s stiffening pink nipple, Jordan heard the worst possible thing she could have heard at that moment.  Claire heard it too.

They looked at each other with concern and fear, and then up at the steps where they’d just heard a door open and close from upstairs.

“It’s my mom!” Jordan hissed in a sharp whisper.

Sure enough, the two could hear her feet swishing against the carpeted steps.

“Hurry up!” Claire replied urgently from down at Amina’s bare feet.

“I’m trying! I’ve never done this before” Jordan said, hooking her thumb over the syringe.  She began pressing on the plunger.

“Go faster!  ….but not too fast! You don’t want to smoosh him or rupture her tit or–”

“Shut up! I’m doing it!” Jordan barked in a quiet whisper.

Jordan took another quick peek up at the steps.  She didn’t see her mom’s feet yet so there was still time.

“It’s going in! It’s going in!” Jordan celebrated, watching little Adam inside. She kept firm pressure on the plunger and watched the 1 cm tall man be forced closer to the stem of the syringe. Evette’s foot had just come into view on the steps from the living room. Jordan was sweating but she kept her cool. She would have loved to really savor this moment; damn her mom for coming down now and making her rush!

Jordan smirked down at the man she’d once called Dad one last time as she watched him completely leave the syringe and disappear into the ocean that was Amina’s tit fat. Jordan swiftly pulled the syringe out, a single droplet landing a few centimeters away from the injection point.  Claire came around and quickly tucked Amina’s left breast back into her bra cup and restored order to the presentation of her crop top shirt.

“What are you girls doing?” Evette said, her head having just cleared the second floor granting her view into the living room.

“Oh uh…” Jordan said, quickly tucking the syringe behind her back and down the back of her pajamas.

“--I was trying to go to bed, but Amina is laying here so we were trying to wake her up.”  Claire saved the day.

Evette rolled her eyes and smiled, her big breasts bouncing freely in her sleep shirt as she finished the steps and approached the living room, “Oh, it’s a challenge to wake that woman up, I tell you.”

Claire and Jordan stepped back from Amina as Evette approached, dropping down to her knees at Amina’s head.  As she leaned in to give her a tender, sweet kiss on the cheek, Claire couldn’t help but point out that the top of Evette’s large ass was showing through the waistband of her pajama pants.  Jordan replied with a heavy, life-threatening eye roll.

“Sweetheart..come on, it's time for bed.” Evette said sweetly, peppering Amina’s cheek and forehead with more kisses, pressing her own hefty, massive breasts against Amina’s breasts.  Amina’s toes curled and she took a deep breath, inflating her lungs and sending her breasts outward.

Amina opened her eyes and looked disoriented.  Interestingly, her left hand went right to her left breast, near the nipple, and then she started to sit up. “So are we going home, Eve?” Amina slurred.

“We are home, my love.” Evette giggled, helping Amina to her feet. “Let’s go to bed.”

Jordan watched Amina’s left breast with so much intensity, picturing little Adam getting comfy in there…settling in for his 6-month punishment…all while neither of the two lovebirds before her had any idea.

“Good night, girls.” Evette said in a motherly tone as she wrapped an arm around Amina.

The drunken girl stumbled and almost fell, eliciting a healthy laugh from Evette who helped her up the steps and into their marital bedroom.

Jordan’s heart was racing and her breathing was heavy.  She watched Evette and Amina stumble up the carpeted steps, unaware that they were taking an unwilling Adam with them.

‘I did that…’ she thought in disbelief as her mother and her mother’s lover clumsily reached the top of the stairs. Jordan watched in awe as Evette’s sock clad foot left the last visible step and then a few seconds later, their bedroom door opened and shut. Adam’s six month punishment started right now, and it was all because of her decision…and her action.

Claire sighted in relief, oblivious to the revelations going on in Jordan’s head and patted her on the back, “Well, look at that! That couldn’t have possibly worked any better, huh?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it.” Jordan said breathily, her hand on her chest to feel her racing heart.

Claire lifted a small device that looked a bit like a thumb drive only a little thicker.  “Actually, the only way it would have worked out better is if I had time to scan him. I love seeing the indicators light up to see that he’s really in there.”

The fluttering of her heart wasn’t stopping, and now she felt a heat down between her legs.  Was she really that powerful?  She had to have been…she just condemned that tiny little insignificant man to six more months with his ex-wife and her lesbian lover.  Was there any larger power in the whole universe than that?? Jordan thought not.

Claire kicked her sneakers off and sat down on the sofa, her upper lip curled in disgust as she brushed the dirt and sand that Amina’s bare feet had left on the arm rest.

“What are you doing?” Jordan asked.

Claire lowered her pants and quickly changed into a pair of flannel pajama bottoms.  “I’m going to bed, duh.  It’s late.”

The dirty blonde then swung her feet in under her blanket, turning the pillow over to the side that Amina hadn’t pressed her face into.

“Wait…” Jordan said, practically out of breath.

Claire opened her eyes, “Huh?  What’s wrong?”

“I just…” Jordan said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

Claire rolled her eyes, “Stop worrying.  We got away with it.  Suppose she’s getting a shower or something tomorrow and she even notices the injection point.  She’ll just think it was a bug bite on her boob or whatever.  There’s absolutely no reason in the known universe for Amina to suspect that her wife’s ex-husband is buried in her boob.”

“No…I know we got away with it.  It’s not that.”  Jordan replied.

“Well then what is it?”

“Shouldn’t we…like…shrink someone else?” Jordan replied breathily.

Claire chuckled, pushing the covers off her body and sitting up on the sofa.

“Shouldn't we?  I don’t know, Jordan.  Why should we?” Claire asked playfully.

“Shut up.” Jordan said defensively, looking down at her foot as she scuffed the carpet. “I’m just saying it..you know…could be fun to shrink someone else.  That’s all.”

Claire replied, “Well, you’re absolutely right.  It would be fun.  Did you have someone in mind?”

“I mean….no…but someone who deserves it, ya know…like he did.” Jordan said, gesturing toward the upstairs bedroom, where for the first time in her entire life she would not have minded if her mom and Amina were in the middle of a seriously intense fuck session.

The dirty blonde smiled, grabbing her notebook and gesturing with her head for Jordan to follow her.

Jordan did.

The two sat down at the dining room table.

“Any teachers you didn’t like at college that you want to get back at?” Claire asked, flipping through her notebook.

“No…” Jordan said, “I mean..they were all dusty and boring..but none of them were interesting enough to shrink.”

“What about your friend Chelsea?  That could be fun!”

“What?  No!” Claire said with unambiguous disgust on her face.  “She’s been my best friend since kindergarten.  No way.  Go fish.”

Claire was flipping through her notebook, and Jordan saw that there were no longer complicated equations, chemical reactions, and graphs…but instead long paragraphs.

“How about…ooooooo…what about that boy you mentioned earlier?”

Jordan tilted her head in confusion. “Who?”

“Brad something.” Claire said, reading her journal.

“Oh…my…god….” Jordan said, her heart skipping a beat. How fucking dare he enroll in a school out of state.  How fucking dare he leave her behind here to do her work herself.  How fucking dare he move on and try to find someone else. How fucking dare he unwrap himself from around her pinky finger.

“Yes….yes….fucking yes.” Jordan practically growled.

“Great!” Claire said, frantically flipping to a new page of her notebook to take notes.  “What do we know about him?”

“He apparently took up hiking.” Jordan said, rolling her eyes.

“That’s great!  Nice, secluded places..nobody around…that’s perfect.”

Claire scribbled a few more notes into her notebook and then looked up at Jordan.  “We don’t have a lot of time…I have to go back to Cali soon and we’re going to have to finish this before then.  We gotta figure out where to find him and where to do this.  Does he hike around here?” Claire asked.

“Yeah, he posts the stuff on Facebook.  He’s such a dork he even posted his exact coordinates a few times so I’m sure we can find his routes.”

“Okay, perfect.”  Claire said.  She closed her eyes and then smiled silently…but then the smiling gave way to giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Jordan asked inquisitively.

“Oh nothing…” Claire said, “...but….just so you know…if I do you this solid of shrinking Brad for you…well…you’re going to have to do something for me…”

~

This story is up to Chapter 16 and COMPLETED on Patreon which you can access at the the link here: patreon.com/user?u=4260306

Joining also unlocks other early-access content including other RR stories, RR Vignettes series, RR Emails bonus content and more.

This story is up to Chapter 16 and COMPLETED on Patreon which you can access at the the link here: patreon.com/user?u=4260306

Joining also unlocks other early-access content including other RR stories, RR Vignettes series, RR Emails bonus content and more.

Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 8 - A Nature Hike

[Brad]

The loose dirt shifted beneath Brad’s feet; it wasn’t much…only a few particles…but it was enough. His core tightened as his right arm sprinted out for the nearest tree.  To go along with his quick reflexes, his sturdy hiking boots found reprieve in the solid earth beneath the shifting dirt.

His exercises had certainly paid off.

Brad watched a few branches and rocks tumble down Mother Nature’s steep slope behind him. He sighed in relief as he released his iron grip on the stabilizing tree, cautiously and respectfully resuming his climb.

If someone had told Brad six months ago that he would be outside, hiking up a 55 degree angle slope…well…let’s just the ‘outside’ part might have been enough to elicit a disbelieving chuckle.  Yet here he was, out in the wilderness, the nearest soul miles and miles away.  In fact, in his drive through the brush, he’d only noticed a single empty car parked near the lake about a mile before he reached his usual spot, a forest green Prius.  Brad assumed it was someone coming out to fish but the lake was so calm it looked like solid concrete from a distance.

He reached into his pocket to check the time.

It was 7am.

Brad chuckled, noticing his lack of cell reception. Six months ago, that would have been enough to dissuade him from this hike altogether.  It wasn’t that he would have worried about needing to call someone for help.  He worried not about being able to contact the world; in fact, he worried about the world being able to contact him…specifically one girl.

‘What if Jordan tried calling me and I wasn’t able to answer?’

‘What if Jordan was home and needed my help with her schoolwork?’

‘What if Jordan is swimsuit shopping for the coming summer and wants to ask ME which two-piece bikini makes her butt look the best?’

Or his personal favorite, and most embarrassing…

‘What if Jordan has finally realized that I’ve been the perfect, sweet guy that’s been right under her nose all along..and she’s trying to call me to confess her undying love for me?’

Letting go of Jordan wasn’t an easy thing to do; it may have been the hardest thing Brad had ever done.  He’d known her since the two were sat next to each other on the first day of second grade. All the kids wrote their names onto rectangular slips of paper, folded to operate as temporary name plates for their desks.  Brad used one of several black washable ink markers circulating around the classroom to write his name just as all the other kids did.

Jordan, however, wrote her bubbly name down in hot pink with a marker she’d brought from home.  She was the only one with a colored nameplate, and the only one that had drawn a heart next to her name.

That was when the crush started, just as innocent as the child who had it.

Jordan was more or less polite enough to Brad, but there was no mistaking her lack of interest in forming a childhood friendship which anyone will tell you can only make those feelings grow stronger.

Innocent interest made way for puberty-addled, lustful appreciation of Jordan’s developing and blossoming body.  Before he knew it, Brad and Jordan were sophomores in high school and while Brad checked all the boxes for nerdboy status, Jordan looked like a full-fledged, heart-breaking woman with curves that would make any womanizer blush.

She’d developed large breasts that seemed to draw Brad in like a pasture farm cow into a UFO’s tractor beam…and don’t even get him started on her ass.  She’d always had thick thighs and wide hips, but years of sports would only continue to increase their size and apparent firmness as the two teens barreled their way through their highschool careers.  He had to say ‘apparent’ in his own mind, having never touched them himself, but he’d lost count of how many times he masturbated over the years imagining what they might feel like…smell like…taste like.

Despite the disparity in their appearances and unlikeliness of their social matching, a friendship had developed between Jordan and Brad against all odds.  Not only that, but she was the one who actually approached him!

Sure…the reason for that first approach was for help with her homework, but she could have asked any brainy nerd…and she asked him!

In a way, Brad was grateful that he was able to maintain a close relationship with Jordan and even though it was a bit juvenile, he couldn’t help but scoff whenever Jordan would trash-talk the popular guys that were drooling to get in her pants.  They were handsome, muscular jocks and yet here he was with her…but there was always that third wheel: her schoolwork.

Sometimes, Brad would actually get up the nerve to ask Jordan to hang out with no academic focus but Jordan was always too busy.  Brad once even bought her a brand new TI-89 calculator to aid her in completing some of her schoolwork herself, which would hopefully free up some time for the two of them to hang out and have some fun, but he barely heard anything of it after gifting the expensive item.  He could have been more insistent but he didn’t want to risk her finding some other nerd to teach her algebra. Brad needed to hold onto what he could.

Did he know all along and choose to ignore that Jordan was using him?  A part of him did.  Although, he couldn’t give himself sole credit for the realization; a lion’s share of that credit went to Chelsea.

Brad’s legs were sore and his brow was sweaty, but now the mountainous slope was fully behind him and he turned to admire it.  He rested his hands on the back of his head, opening his lungs fully to allow for deep, comforting breaths as he stared down.

This coming September, Brad was heading off to an ivy league college.  He’d received a scholarship to this college years ago but turned it down…for reasons that he couldn’t even bring himself to repeat in his own head.  But that was all behind him now!  Sure, he didn’t have the scholarship anymore but it was a good life lesson learned.

Brad was meeting new people, trying new things.  He was even looking at other girls…something that, pathetically enough, he had always resisted as it felt like he was cheating on Jordan.  Jordan literally slept with that guy Jake when he would go visit her at her university..and he actually felt bad about looking at other women?  It was so demented.  He didn’t feel bad about it now, and maybe one of these days he’d even get a girlfriend and lose his virginity.

Maybe something would happen with Chelsea…who knows?  Jordan’s childhood friend was heading off to college too…and her college was only a few miles away from his.  She was only going for some fluffy communications degree, but she’d told him for over a year now to get ready for some late-night study sessions, restaurant visits, and trips to the mall.

‘One thing at a time…’ Brad chuckled to himself as he uncapped water from his backpack and guzzled a quarter of the container.

Chelsea was definitely a “Princess” type, both in the looks department and in the personality department.  She wasn’t as pretty as Jordan…true…but no one really was.  Jordan was drop-dead gorgeous and she always had been.  It didn’t matter how ‘over her’ Brad truly was, he’d objectively concluded that he'd already seen the most beautiful woman the world had to offer, and it was Jordan.  Her body made him ache and her gaze practically made him seize….but Chelsea was pretty too.

And more importantly, she was absolutely pivotal in helping him get over Jordan.  There were so many times after he’d given Jordan the hard news that he wanted to call Jordan and tell her he changed his mind.  That he would do whatever she wanted.  Luckily for him, Chelsea was a true friend, always telling him to be strong and resist the urge.  That he was so much better than that stuck up, big booty brat.  One time recently they were hanging out…Brad couldn’t remember exactly what they were doing, maybe he was helping Chelsea with a college application letter or something…and Jordan called him out of nowhere.

He looked at Chelsea and in a moment of weakness, picked up the phone to answer.  Chelsea dramatically shouted “No!!!”

The two fought over the phone for a moment before Brad dropped it and stumbled backwards onto his back. Chelsea grabbed the phone and plopped her butt right down on Brad’s chest, pinning him down.

“Okay, okay! I won’t call her!” Brad said laughing as Chelsea crossed her arms over chest, still sitting on his.

“Promise?” Chelsea said in a sweet baby-ish voice.

“Yes, I promise.” Brad said with a laugh.  He didn’t tell her to get off of him; he was loving this…and he wasn’t even thinking about Jordan anymore.

Brad heard a sound over the water rushing down his wide throat.  He removed the bottle from his lips and swallowed, listening closely.

Unmistakable..and quite unusual.

“Is that…someone crying?”

Brad briskly walked toward the high-pitched sound, discovering that it was coming from a girl sitting atop a large, fallen tree.

Her short dirty blonde hair was messy and she appeared disheveled.   She didn’t quite appear dressed for a hike, opting for a pair of pristine white sneakers instead of rugged and durable boots.  She wore black bicycle shorts that left more skin showing than he’d have been comfortable exposing to the elements.

‘Who was this girl and how did she get here? …and perhaps, most importantly, why was she crying?’

Brad stood perhaps 20 feet from her and she still hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Are you okay?”

Despite his best attempt at sounding unthreatening and unsurprising, the poor girl’s head nearly snapped off her neck as she gasped and looked up at him.  Her hands darted out from her core, where they had been innocuously cross-clutching her thighs, and then it all became clear.

“Oh no…” Brad said.

Caked mascara lined the girl’s eyes as she wiped dripping tears from her cheeks and nose.

The soft dirt crunched under Brad’s boots as he slowly approached the girl.  She didn’t look scared anymore…not of him, anyway.  She could surely see that he wanted to help.

“Is that a snake bite?”

The girl looked down to follow his gaze.  On the inside of her right thigh were two distinct red dots and around them was what looked like bruising.

For the first time, she spoke.  Her voice trembled.  “I…don’t know how it happened. I didn’t even see him.”

“Man…how did he get so high up on your leg? Did you see him after? I think they usually run away.” Brad said, dropping to one knee in front of the seated girl.

“I dunno…I saw a flash of it in the grass. It was red and yellow…and black, I think.” The girl was rubbing the flesh of her inner thigh around the bite. Brad was doing his best to limit his concern so as not to worry the poor girl.

“Ohhh…did the red touch yellow?  Or did it touch black?” Brad asked with urgency in his voice.  ‘Red touches yellow, kills a fellow’, he remembered.

“What? I don’t know, does it matter?” she asked.

Brad wasn’t sure what to say, and the girl seemed to pick up on his heightened concern.

“Oh….do you think…” She looked down at her thigh and then back up at Brad and wailed, “....THAT IT’S POISONOUS?!?”

“I think we need to get you to the doctors.” Brad said quickly. “Here, I can carry you.”

“No!  We’re…like…so far away from anywhere.  What if I die before we get there?” She asked frantically.

‘It was a little dramatic, but it’s a good question…’ Brad thought grimly.

“Oh!!!!” Her pretty green eyes lit up, “You can suck the poison out!”

Brad’s eyes tracked back down to the bite, “I…don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Of course it’s a thing; I read it in a nature magazine once.”

“I’m pretty sure they disproved it as not being effective.” Brad replied.

Tears started flowing down the girl’s cheeks again, “I don’t want to die here!  Puh-puh-puh lease?”  She blubbered, widening her legs a bit more, “Can you please just suck it?”

It took a special kind of man to say no to girls. It was a talent in which Brad had zero skill…and how could someone say no to a girl as cute and in as much distress as this?  Worst case scenario, it just doesn’t help her, right?  He was pretty sure that it wouldn’t hurt him as long as he spit the venom or whatever he’d suck out of her inner thigh.

Brad took a deep breath, “Okay…but we have to go to the hospital right after, alright?”

She nodded enthusiastically…almost excitedly, with a smile.  “What’s your name?”

“I’m Brad.  And you?”

“Brad…thank you so much for finding me and helping me. I’m Claire.”

‘Pretty name for a pretty girl’ Brad thought.  Sometimes he wished he didn’t have the mind of a guy.  Here was this girl who needed his help and of course he was going to help her, but he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of movement under his jeans as she pulled her black bike shorts further up her legs, exposing as much of her inner thighs as a traditional pair of panties would.

Brad leaned in between Claire’s legs to get a closer look at the bite.  The markings were red and the bruising was present, but he would have expected the bruising to be raised.  The bites, strangely enough, also lacked dimension, appearing flat against the dirty blonde’s pale thigh.  Before he could comment on the strangeness of the bite, the distressed girl scooted her hips forward on the log, closing the final distance between her inner thigh and Brad’s lips.

Brad pressed his mouth against Claire’s inner right thigh, sealing his lips around the bite and began applying gentle sucking pressure. His tongue inadvertently touched the dirty blonde’s skin.  He didn’t know what venom was supposed to taste like, but all he could detect was a hint of salt from her perspiration.  He expected that he might taste some blood too, but there was nothing.

He continued to suck. The moment was so surreal. He hadn’t so much as kissed a girl yet, let alone plunge his face down between a girl’s thighs and pressed his lips anywhere in that special area.  As fucked up as it was to be turned on in such an emergency, he could feel himself stiffening.

And then, goosebumps sprouted all over his body and his nose sunk a little bit deeper into the flesh of her cushiony thigh.

Were those her fingers running through his hair?

In the absence of any taste or aroma other than her briney perspiration, Brad’s tongue was now curiously probing the flesh of the dirty blonde’s thigh.  It was searching for the indentation of the bites.  He searched and searched, but there was nothing but smooth, supple, salty skin.

The fingers were possessively gripping his hair now, encouraging him not to lift his head.  Brad heard shuffling of earth and grass behind him. It was the same sound he’d created when he was first approaching Claire.  It was right behind him now, and Brad was quickly beginning to wonder if it was a coincidence that the firmness by which Claire was holding him between her thighs was increasing.When Brad heard the sound of a shoe scuffing directly behind him, his wet lips broke the seal on Claire’s thigh.  He would have spit if there was something in his mouth but there was nothing.  He whipped his head around and when he looked up, his jaw dropped.

“Jordan?!”

“What’s that?” He asked, referring to the clear, plastic syringe in her right hand.

Brad then felt both of Claire’s hands on either side of his head violently twist him back to face her.  Claire didn’t pull him toward what he had now deduced were two ink dots from a marker on her inner thigh.  No, that jig was up.

Instead, Claire forced his head directly between her legs.  He felt his face rough up against the damp crotch of her black bike shorts and her thighs clamped in tightly on either of his cheeks and temples.

The heels of her pristine white sneakers lightly struck his back as she wrapped her legs fully around his head.  The sheer ridiculousness of the situation prevented him from telling his legs to stand…to pull his face out of Claire’s crotch.  All his brain power was dedicated toward trying to understand why this was happening.

Then, Brad felt the back of his shirt being lifted and a sharp, painful prick in his side.

‘What the fuck was that?’ Brad thought frantically, feeling a spidering sensation radiating through his body. He could see it when he closed his eyes…strong, violent purple splintering out in all directions and threatening to destroy him.  He heard the sound of his feet scraping against the ground, but he wasn’t moving his legs at all.

“See, THAT’S why I said you need to do it in the neck.” Claire said flatly, gripping and squeezing Brad’s face into her bike shorts as he got smaller and smaller. “Look how long it’s taking.”

“Why’s it matter? He’s gonna get to the same size as my dad anyway, right?”

‘Same size?’ Brad thought in confusion. The scraping sound of his own feet continued, but they made no sense.  He wasn’t moving!  Was this weird girl who buried his face into her crotch moving?  Fat chance…there was no way she had the strength to move him around like that…and yet the scraping of the tops of his boots continued until finally his feet popped right out.

“What the fuck is happening?” Brad said, muffled by Claire’s crotch who reflexively squeezed his face in so tight that he could literally distinguish between her left and right pussy lips with his nose.  His feet continued rising, but why?  Why were his feet going up?

Brad heard Claire from over his head say something about him being more than halfway now and to hand her something.  Brad’s feet kicked pathetically, now dangling over the ground but he couldn’t see nor understand why.  He also noticed that Claire’s thighs seemed to feel even more strong..and even larger.  Her hands in his hair were larger too, as if they were growing all around him.  As if everything was growing all around him.  His pants fell to the earth beneath him, then his underwear and socks.  The impressively massive thighs relented around his face just long enough to yank up on a massive t-shirt around him and then quickly seal back in around him.

He was completely naked now in this strange scissor hold and he wasn’t getting any answers. He felt his shoulders pressing more forcefully against the undersides of Claire’s thighs, as if he were being pushed up through them.  Claire lightened her grip on him just enough to allow the shoulders to pop through and around the same time, he felt her fingers leave his head.  

Instead, the thick, cushiony flesh of her thighs took their place…and now he could tell that his entire face and head was fully encapsulated between the pretty girl’s thighs.  After his shoulders finally popped through, the rest of him followed.  He felt his bare ass gliding against Claire’s skin, then his thighs..his knee caps…and then finally his bare feet.

He felt pressure on all sides.  What the fuck did she do?  Did she transfer him from her thighs to some other massive object that was going to crush him?

The pressure was eliminated entirely at the very moment that light flooded in.  Claire had parted her legs and Brad, in a delirious state, had come to the impossible conclusion that he was completely naked and literally stuck to one of Claire’s sweaty inner thighs.

“Put it underneath him..he’s gonna fall any second.” Claire said.

Brad watched with blurry eyes as a giant that looked just like Jordan positioned a tiny plastic container underneath him and gently scraped up against Claire’s thigh.  Brad was disoriented, but he had enough sense to understand that if he didn’t lift his legs, they might get pinched and scraped off so he fought the adhering strength of Claire’s drying perspiration and managed to separate his legs enough for the container’s edge to scrape beneath them.  The separation was a bit painful and the plummet into the small container embarrassing.

“Okay, I’ll take that. You put all his stuff…shoes, clothes, water..make sure his cell phone is there..and put it all in this trash bag.” Claire said urgently.

With no further direct acknowledgement, a lid was set overtop of Brad and clicked shut, returning him to darkness.

~

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Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 9 - Compounding Betrayal

[Brad]

“So you knew he was going to shrink up..like…toward his own head?” What if he shrank down toward his feet? Or his chest?”

Brad awoke to voices and rumbling.

“Yeah I knew it was going to happen that way. It has to do with the location of the Parietal Lobe."

"Parietal Lobe?"

"It's brain stuff.  Don't worry about it."

He recognized both voices, and it all came rushing back to him as he himself came rushing out of the small enclosure.  Brad bounced on the surface of the city-sized mattress, and a city-sized girl towered over him, sitting indian style.  Even her pristine white socks were as tall as skyscrapers, and her smiling face…he’d never looked at anything so far away before with so much resolve and resolution.

“Hey Brad!” Claire said, inserting her fingers into the wedges created by her calves contacting the backs of her thighs.

“Listen…” Her tone turned serious and her expression somber…but only for a few moments.  “I want to thank you for sucking all that nasty snake venom out of my thigh…I’m feeling SOOOOOO much better now thanks to you!”

He looks away from the titaness, not finding her nearly as funny as she finds herself, to see…her.

She was standing there over the bed, and if he thought Claire stretched up into the heavens, Jordan’s pretty, smirking face may as well have been in another dimension.  It literally exhausted him to try and understand how large she was.  He knew now that he was in her room…and he was on her bed.  He’d been in her room plenty of times, helping with homework of course, but he’d never been allowed to sit on her bed.

What a bitter-sweet moment.

She was so beautiful he wanted to cry.

The goddess leaned down, casting even more shadow on the undersides of her protruding breasts.

“Pick him up.” Jordan said.

From nowhere, Brad saw the two metal prongs of a set of massive forceps moving quickly toward him.  The dirty blonde bit her lip as she pinched, and he begged her to be careful as most of his body was now being compressed by the rubber tips.  To the lying beauty’s credit, it didn’t hurt him but it was very uncomfortable.  He was lifted up toward her face and Jordan appeared over her shoulder, squinting in closer at him.

Seeing her this up close seemed to have erased so much of his progress in forgetting how much he loved her.

“Oh my friggin’ god…” Jordan said, standing back up to full height.  She began laughing, crossing one arm over her chest while her other hand rubbed her forehead.”

“What?” Claire asked, whipping her head around to look at Jordan.

“He’s got a friggin’ hard-on.” Jordan giggled.

Mortified, Brad looked down.  Sure enough, he was solid as a rock.  He was so overwhelmed by what was happening and trying to understand the girls’ reasoning that he didn’t even remember that he was naked, let alone sporting a throbbing erection.

Claire began laughing way harder as Jordan literally snorted from laughter.

“Whoops!”

Claire laughed so hard that Brad slipped out of the forceps and slid down the front of Claire’s shirt.  It was a terrifying journey, but the warmth and softness would have been a difficult thing to say he didn’t like..not to mention the intoxicating scent of lavender.

“He was literally kidnapped by two girls…he has no idea why…” Claire gave one final shake to her shirt and Brad tumbled down pathetically, bouncing off Claire’s soft stomach and landing in her lap. “...and he’s hard.  You really weren’t kidding about this one.”

“Haha, nope.” Jordan laughs.  “God…If he was hard before, I’ll bet he came after all that.”

Jordan’s smile disappeared and she appeared deep in thought.  “Actually…”

Brad felt a growing pit in his stomach as her focus broke and returned fully to him.

“Lemme see those….”

Jordan was not nearly as gifted with handling the forceps as Claire was.  He was being dangled upside down by mostly just one leg, which was pretty painful and disorienting, but he could tell enough that he was being raised up to her face.

“Okay, yup…still hard.” Jordan said to Claire.  Then Brad watched her beautiful COLOR eyes train back on him..and his heart leapt up into his throat. But that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Jordan lowered Brad from her eye level to directly overtop her exposed breasts.  Her cleavage looked so warm and inviting.  It was probably twice as large and surely over twice as deep as Claire’s breasts…and Brad couldn’t believe that he found himself wanting to go in there, if for no other reason than to get away from all this stress.

“You could have had this view whenever you wanted if you’d have just stayed local and been my little work consultant from now on.” Jordan purred, holding Brad so close that he could smell her soap.

His stomach lurched and his eyes slammed shut from the G-forces of being pulled away from her tits.  He was now whipping violently down toward her stomach and then over her hips…around her back.  He watched a huge hand tuck down into the waistband of her black leggings and pull out.  The strength he’d have required to do something that only her two fingers did was beyond comprehension.

Brad swallowed dryly as the black legging material reluctantly left contact with her lower back, exposing bright orange underwear.  It looked like a hammock that cradled her two huge ass cheeks, and the crack of her ass was so pronounced and even that too looked inviting.  Brad moaned in nonconsensual and subconscious arousal.

“And you could have maybe even stolen a few perverted peeks at my butt too.  I know you loved whenever I would wear my thongs.  It was something I saved for days when I knew you’d be whiny and need convincing”.  Brad jumped with fear within the forceps under the impressive sound and air pressure of the panties and leggings slapping back against her hefty cheeks and arched lower back. “…good thing I don’t need to convince you of anything anymore.”

“It's not like with my dad, ya know..” Jordan said to Claire as Brad felt himself rushing back up to Jordan's face once more.  She wasn’t looking at him anymore.

“I don’t..like…hate him.”

Jordan returned her gaze to Brad, whose eyes were welling up.  “I don’t hate you, Brad. But I’m pretty fucking pissed that you thought you could just up and leave.  Even when I said…jeez…ESPECIALLY when I said I wasn’t okay with it.  Did you not stop to think of how that would affect me?” Jordan rolled her eyes and scoffed.  “I’ve always been the one in charge…and for the most part you’ve always been okay with that up until recently.  I’ll never understand where the balls came from all of the sudden, but you need a reminder that what I say goes…”

Jordan gestured toward Brad. “And you….”

Jordan gestured toward her left breast.

“...are going here.”

Brad titled his head in confusion.  Was this really happening?

“So before we send you off..how about a little reward for your years of service…both behind you and ahead of you?”

Brad had no idea what she meant, and then he lost all ability to try and understand as her humongous tongue slid out from between her thick lips and licked gently at his crotch, but due to his tiny size basically covered his entire body. She giggled as his stiff, sloppy wet member jumped.

“I’m sure you’ve had a billion sex dreams about me…and I don’t care to hear about any of them, but I bet I can make one of them come true for you.  I want you to cum in my mouth…on my tongue.

Brad gasped.

“Buuuuut!  There’s a catch…so actually this is more like a challenge than a reward.  So here’s the deal: If you can’t manage to cum on my tongue before I pull it back into my mouth, close my lips, and then count to 3 in my head…”

She didn’t finish with stating the consequences for failure, but actions speak so much louder than words.  Jordan only closed her eyes and Brad watched in horror as her throat bulged.  After she finished swallowing, Jordan opened her eyes.

“Do you understand?”

Brad nodded and immediately began pumping his cock with his right hand, much to the amusement of Claire and Jordan.

“He’s cheating! He’s cheating!” Claire said laughing as she pointed, “He’s starting early!”

Jordan extended her tongue as far out from her mouth as she could and Brad trembled to behold the fleshy, thick pink muscle.  The tongue felt like nothing he expected it would.  It somehow gripped him and yet it was immensely slippery and wet.  Evolution decided long ago that anything ending up on a pretty girl’s tongue was prey, and it was meant to be pulled down her pretty throat.  Brad pumped furiously at his cock.  As Jordan slowly started pulling her cooling, drying tongue back into her mouth, Brad understood that he was that prey.

He hoped he might cum before entering her mouth, but he was having trouble focusing.  The sticky, viscous saliva was incredibly distracting and clinging to every part of his body that even flirted with coming into contact with her thick tongue.

He feared that he would fall into a perpetual, self-fulfilling prophecy of not being able to cum as he painfully considered what failure would look like.  He had to imagine it started out with what he was seeing now: Jordan’s pearly white teeth and then the roof of her mouth, they may as well have been priceless pieces of art in a cathedral.  He kept pumping. He was pumping for his life.

Brad kept pumping as Claire laughed.  He kept pumping as Jordan breathed in and out of her mouth, the rush of cold air going in shaking his rhythm and the warm, acidic air coming out almost feeling good against his skin.  Things were getting far more urgent now.  He could feel the humidity beginning to accumulate against his naked skin, and luckily it was helping to lubricate his cock.

Brad had fully passed inside Jordan’s lips now, and the last of her tongue had also cleared them.  Brad frantically reached down and lathered his hands up with her spit, coating his dick to minimize friction.  The lips were starting to come down now…the cathedral roof was crashing.

“I’m close!  I’m so close!” He screamed, but the descent of those teeth continued.  “I’m almost there! Please just wait!” he begged, but Jordan’s big, soft lips connected and completely sealed him away within her mouth.

The humid, minty, acidic environment of her oral cavity was overwhelming and Brad couldn’t see a thing.  The terror he was feeling had caused him to lose a little progress, so he dropped to his hands and knees, desperately thrusting his throbbing cock against the infinite pink landscape of her tongue.  The saliva was pooling now, and he couldn't even thrust properly anymore.

What was more troubling was that she was probably going to swallow any minute now…surely it had been three seconds, right?  Brad felt himself clear the hill and whether he continued thrusting or not, he knew he was in the clear.  He was about to explode in Jordan’s mouth.  In a panic, Brad realized that shooting into the pool of saliva would be a terrible idea since she probably wouldn’t feel it.

Brad frantically scrambled toward the back of Jordan’s throat. He knew that the taste buds most sensitive to bitterness were located in this dangerous spot, and he had to take the risk.  He had to make sure she felt it and that she tasted it.

Her lips spread a fraction of a millimeter, enough to fill her mouth with light.  The light painted Jordan’s tonsils as if they were sparkling Christmas trees and the ribbed roof of her mouth glistened.  And the hole….the hole that leads to the end.  If Brad thought about it for even a second longer, he might have lost the orgasm, but he somehow managed to retain it.  Brad plunged his cock into her tongue, pumping so hard that he may have penetrated one of her taste buds.

He gasped and panted, choked and cried out, and he knew that any second now he was either going to be spit out or that tongue was going to violently shove him all the way to the back of her throat…down that terrifying hole of oblivion.

Brad choked and spit up a belly-full of Jordan’s saliva that he’d inevitably swallowed during his challenge.  He laid in a huge puddle of spit, wiping his eyes to stare up at the amused goddesses.

“Did he do it?” Claire asked, her hands on her hips not breaking eye contact with him.

“Yeah, he did.  I’m honestly surprised I could taste it at all considering how little and pathetic he is, but I could. And get this…the fucker actually tried running down my throat!”

“Are you serious?” Claire laughed.  “What a weirdo!”

Jordan started to say something, but Claire cut her off immediately, “Don’t get any ideas. A deal is a deal..”

“Yeah, yeah..” Jordan nodded as Claire removed what looked like a syringe from her bag.

“Oh, before we finish this, did you ever get that calculator for Chelsea?” Jordan asked.

‘What the fuck?’

Jordan actually leaned in toward him this time. For the first time, she actually wanted to hear his answer.  Brad climbed to his feet, his knees shaking as he shook off slops and slops of saliva from his naked body.

“How did you know about that?”

“Chelsea told me. You want me to read the texts?”

Jordan’s fingers danced over her enormous phone’s screen and Brad could see the LED display illuminating her face.

“Chelsea: Have you seen Brad recently? The dipshit didn’t come over today.”

“Me: No, what in God’s name is he going over there for? You guys going on a date?”

“Chelsea: Hurl!!! Don’t even joke like that, k?  I dropped the calculator you gave me and it shattered into a bazillion pieces.  He’s buying me a new one.”

Brad’s eyes were starting to well up.  Why was Jordan doing this?  She was lying, right?  Chelsea wouldn’t say all this.  Chelsea was the only one who cared about him.  Chelsea saved him from Jordan…until now…

“Me: LOL!  Well, I haven’t seen him.”

“Chelsea: Ugh…fucking loser is probably sitting at home by himself anyway.”

“Please stop reading…” Brad said through tears. Jordan either didn’t hear him or didn’t care.

“Me; You better get on that before he leaves, girl!”

“Chelsea: I know! I know!  Maybe I’ll just have him mail it to me after I get here.”

As despondent and broken as Brad was, that last part confused him.  Chelsea had gotten accepted to a school..he’d seen the acceptance letter and helped her get her dorm situation figured out.  Brad knew that her school was basically a 30 minute walk away from his..he knew because he’d mapped it out already.  And he was scheduled to get there before her.  Why would she suggest that he mail her something when he could just give it to her?

As tempting as it was to solve that riddle, Brad’s weak minded brain kept pulling back to the fact that he’d been betrayed.  Pulled away from one big-breasted, big-ass predator just so that he could be manipulated by a different big-breasted, big-ass predator.

Brad was so broken, he didn’t even fight Claire lifting him and dropping him into this strange syringe.  He heard her telling him to hug his shoulders super,super tight but he didn’t ask why.  He didn’t even try to understand why she was capping the syringe with him inside.

He did perk up though, when he saw Jordan taking off her blouse and removing her polka-dotted bra.  Brad had never seen Jordan’s bare breasts before and they were everything he’d imagined they would be.  Despite having just cum he could feel himself getting hard again, and he hated himself.

From within the belly of the syringe, Brad watched his life flash before his eyes as well as the scenery of Jordan’s heavenly bedroom.  He was staring at her face now, swimming before her.

“You could have just waited until I got a job, figured out how it worked, and then helped me do it..and everything would have been perfect…but noooooo.  You just had to try leaving…but now, you’ll NEVER leave.” Jordan smirked and then looked up at Claire.

“It definitely has to be in–”

“It definitely does.” Claire interrupted with a smile.

Jordan giggle and rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiine-nuh!” Jordan said belligerent.

“Just remember..I didn’t do this, Brad. You did this.”

His syringe shook again and Brad found himself soaring down toward Jordan’s exposed chest, his trajectory taking him toward her swollen right breast.  It was so perfect..so round…and it looked so soft.  But..he was in a syringe..an uncapped syringe whose point was heading straight toward her stiff pink nipple.

“They can’t really…be injecting me…into her fucking tit?!” Brad shouted.

He denied it.  He bargained.  He spasmed and flailed. He swam toward the edge of the clear chamber and pleaded with the huge thumb now pressing down on the plunger.  Brad had done so well…he had gotten over Jordan…he had finally moved on with his life, and now here he was, squeezing his shoulders and crossing his legs as he barreled toward the narrow stem of the syringe.  He flew through it like a bullet out a barrel, and the brilliant multi-colored world turned warm and dark, lit only with dull amber and pink.

After being ejected from the sharp, slanted edge of the clinical, man-made syringe, Brad marveled at the surroundings that seemed alien and foreign…and yet they were so much more natural than the environment from where he came.  He was the alien here, dropped off by a foreign spaceship amongst millions..and millions..and millions of small amber orbs.

They were not much larger than a computer mouse and yet there were so many he couldn't see the end.  It was as if he were in a dull amber ball pit, but instead of hard plastic the balls were all gelatinous and had so much give.  He was lost in an ocean of them, and somehow he could still hear Jordan and Claire on the outside. They had continued on with their conversation as if they hadn’t just injected a young man with his whole life ahead of him directly into a big, perky boob.

“I’m not going to tell you again, jeez!  Take your dumb USB stick thingy.”

That was Jordan’s voice.  He could tell because it was all around him…so loud and present he could even feel it inside of his body.

“It’s a Properties and Vitals scanner.”

That was Claire..the one that made this all possible.

“Whatever it is, I keep putting it in your bag.  If you keep leaving it out you’re going to end up leaving it here and then it's mine.”

“You don’t even know what to do with it, haha,” Claire joked.

“I’d sell it!”

Brad thought he was wet before when he was in Jordan’s mouth. He thought he’d known pressure before when he was within the forceps pincers.  Those were NOTHING.

He was positively drenched from head to toe by whatever fluid was coating the fat cells.  They crowded in on him in all directions and despite being so small, there was barely a millimeter of his body that was not in direct contact with them.  He could feel a strange sensation deep inside of his body.  It was more than just arousal, which was in no short supply.  It was something looming deep within him, under his muscle and bone.  It filled him with dread, and at the same time was slowly blossoming into feelings for Jordan that he’d never felt before…and he’d loved her since elementary school.  How long was this going to last for?

~

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Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 10 - An Urgent Phone Call

Claire: Hello?

Jordan: Hey, it’s me.

Claire: Who’s me?  I don’t have this number saved.

Jordan: You didn’t save my number?! You…..sigh……this is Jordan Maziotto.

Claire: Oh, hey Jordan..whatsup?

Jordan: Listen, I’m having some–

Claire: –I’m not gonna be able to talk for much longer just so ya know. I’m cheeking my phone right now and you wouldn’t believe how much precision is needed to inject a boy directly into a fat cell.

Jordan: A what??!

Claire: Yeah, I wanted to see if the effects of in vitro fertilization into a fat cell would impart any….ugh….never mind…

Jordan: What happened?

Claire: I knocked the stupid tray off the stupid table and now my socks are wet.  Are you happy?

Jordan: Don’t blame me!  Ugh….Listen…stop with your weird fat injection crap for a minute…I’ve got a serious problem over here.

Claire: What’s the problem?

Jordan: It's Amina.

Claire: No, Tiffany.  We’re closing soon anyway.  Just wipe it up with a paper towel and throw it away…yeah, there’s no way we’re finding him now.  …sorry, I’m back.  What’s wrong with Amina?

Jordan: She’s been…like…out of control

Claire: Ha, don’t worry about it..your mom did the same thing.  That’s the whole point of the injection into mammary tissue.

Jordan: No, you don't understand..she’s like…changed as a person.  I saw her masturbating in her car when she was leaving for work.  Stop laughing.

Claire: I’m sorry, it's just funny!

Jordan: Okay…well she’s even hitting on me.

Claire: Yikes..

Jordan: Ya! It's so friggin weird!  Last month, Chelsea and I had just gotten back from the gym and we were hanging out in the kitchen.  Amina walked by to get a drink and I could totally feel her staring me up and down…and then when she walked by, she grazed my butt with the back of her hand.  There was NO WAY it was a mistake.  Also, I’ve even seen her like…cupping her own boobs when she’s by herself…and the crazy part…is that she’s paying extra special attention to the ‘you-know-which-one’!”

Claire: …wait……she’s deliberately favoring stimulation on the breast that Adam is in?

Jordan: Yeah, its freaking weird…and then I–

Claire: –stop talking for a second.  Tiffany, grab me my notebook.  Hurry.

Jordan: What’s wrong?

Claire: Shhh

Claire: ….

Claire: …………

Claire: ….how long has it been?

Jordan: Since?

Claire: Since we injected your dad into Amina’s boob, genius!

Jordan: Oh!  Umm…that was…uh….

Claire: It was only like 4 days before we injected Brad into your boob.”

Jordan: Yeah, I know..I’m trying to remember the days.  Hmmm…Amina’s injection was the day after my graduation I think, right?  April 13th?

Claire: That sounds right.   It's August 7th today…so it's been…no, that’s not right.  It's only been three and a half months.

Jordan: So?

Claire: So….ummm………oh!  Hey, you still have my P&V Scanner, right?

Jordan: Your what?

Claire: The thing you said was a thumb drive!

Jordan: Oh!

Claire: Tell me you didn’t sell it.

Jordan: No, I was just kidding. It's in my dresser drawer.

Claire:  Okay…is Amina sleeping?

Jordan: Probably, they’re both in their room.

Claire:  Okay..I need you to take the P&V Scanner and scan Amina’s boob.

Jordan: Ugh…okay, I’ll try and get her drunk tomorrow and–

Claire: –NO!  Now!

Jordan: Whoa! Calm down.

Claire: You need to do it now.

Jordan: Okay! Okay!

Claire: Tell me when you have it.

Jordan:  Okay, I pressed the power button.

Claire: Okay…..WAIT until I tell you to do stuff, how about that?

Jordan: Sawwwww-reeeee…just tell me what to do now.

Claire: Do you see the little pink button on the left side of it?

Jordan: Yeah

Claire: Press it and hold it.

Jordan: Okay…Lights came on

Claire: Right.  Probably a Red one that blinked 3 times, right?

Jordan: Yeah, what’s that mean?

Claire: It means that you weren’t reading an injectable. That’s what we’d expect to see. Now hold the little part that looks like black glass up against your right boob..then press and hold the button.

Jordan: Okay…it lit up with 1 Pink light and 1 Blue light.

Claire: Alright that’s…..hmm…okay, let's come back to that one.

Jordan: What?  What do you mean? Is that bad?

Claire: Hold on, we’re talking about Amina right now…I need you to go and do the same test on her.

Jordan: Okay..so I need to hold this thing up against Amina’s boob and press and hold the little pink button?

Claire: And pay very special attention to the colors that light up..and how the order and how many.  It shouldn’t be more than like 3 or 4.

Jordan: Okay, I’ll go try it now…do you want me to call you back?

Claire: No, I’ll wait.  Just go do it now and come back.

Jordan: Okay, one sec.

Jordan: ……

Jordan: ………………..

Claire: Go ahead Tiffany, you can go home. We’ll try another fertilization next week…..yeah….yeah…..okay, have a good weekend.

Jordan: ……

Jordan: ………..

Jordan:  ……….Okay, I’m back.

Claire: How’d it go?

Jordan: I got it, I think.  The colors lit up with 2 Pink, 2 Blue, and then 1 Purple

Claire:  Hold on, lemme check the instructions and see what that means.

Claire: ……you said…2 Pink….and then 2 Blue….and then 1 Purple?

Jordan: Yeah.

Claire: In that order? Are you sure?

Jordan: Claire, you’re freaking me out..Yes, that was the order.  What the heck is going on?

Claire:  Oh jeez…….Okay so…This is rare….I think….ha!  …and even when it actually does happen, it takes years…not 4 months.

Jordan: What? What happened?

Claire: Hmm…..why would this be happening already?

Jordan: CLAIRE!

Claire: Sorry!

Jordan: Are you saying that he’s causing this? Come over here and get him out asap!

Claire: I won’t be able to.

Jordan: Why not?

Claire: He’s undergone a Spontaneous Fusion Event.  I’m guessing he’s probably already finished innervating.

Jordan: What the heck is that?!

Claire: uhhh…well, it's not good. There’s this non-zero chance that any injectable will initiate into this sequence of fusion on the cellular level with the host’s body.  They become vascularized and are kind of…well…taken over.  The boob containing them kind of assembles these ad hoc tissue systems designed specifically to attach and assimilate to the injectable so–

Jordan: –Claire, speak english..holy crap!

Claire: Uhhhh….your dad is like…fused to her boob. You know, funny enough…you could actually make the argument that he is literally a part of Amina’s boob now.

Jordan: What…like, permanently?

Claire:  Yeah..I mean, there are ways I’m experimenting with to reverse the process once it’s begun…but once it completes and you see those lights, there’s literally nothing that can be done…short of Amina getting a mastectomy.

Jordan: ..the fuck?  A masectomy??  Couldn’t they just…I dunno…cut HIM out?

Claire: I mean…I..guess they could just excise the portion of mammary tissue where your dad lives.  But does it really matter?  Cutting your dad out like an annoying little tumor or removing the whole tit…neither of those things are going to happen since we’re not telling Amina anyway.

Jordan: So he’s stuck in her boob forever?

Claire: Yeah, sorry…I know we were going to remove him in like 2 more months but its not looking like that’s–

Jordan: –I don’t give a crap about that pathetic boob parasite! Even if we got my dad out of Amina’s tit, he was going to go to your lab in Cali anyway…and probably get fertilized into a fat cell or something from the sounds of it.  If anything, the creep is probably better off spending the rest of his life in Amina’s boob but I couldn’t possibly care less either way. To Hell with my dad, that’s not who I’m worried about!

Claire:  You’re worried about Amina?

Jordan: Umm..I guess a little..since she’s so freaking horny and I guess that isn’t going away any time soon?  Or ever?

Claire: No, probably not.

Jordan: Well, what I’m most worried about is me.

Claire: Why you?

Jordan: Cause we injected Brad into my tit! What if the same thing happens to me?

Claire: Well, are you more horny than usual?

Jordan: ….

Claire: You are!

Jordan: …a little!  Okay…a little more than a little.

Claire: When did it start?

Jordan: Well…this is pretty embarrassing…..I don’t usually masturbate but…starting like around last month…I can’t even really go a day without doing it.

Claire: That’s not so–

Jordan: –and as of last week, I’ve been doing it 3 times a day.

Claire: Oooooo…umm…so about these advances from Amina..

Jordan: What about them?

Claire: How do they make you feel?

Jordan: Are you my therapist or something?

Claire: Answer the question.

Jordan: …at first, I thought they were gross.  She’s kinda like a second mom to me…but recently, I’ve…

Claire: You can just stop right there.

Jordan: What? Why? I wasn’t gonna say what you thought I was going to say!

Claire: Yes you were.  Some version of it, anyway. I’ll be flying out there…what’s today…today’s Friday….I’ll be flying out there Monday morning.

Jordan: Why????

Claire: It's too late for Amina and Adam…if he hasn’t already fused, it could literally happen at any moment now, but there may still be time to remove Brad from your tit.

Jordan: Oh my god.  This can’t be permanent!  It's already hard enough to concentrate…I can’t focus around guys and even women are hard to ignore now! If it were to get worse, I’d be a freaking sex zombie like Amina!  It's getting worse by the day with her.

Claire: Right, and if we don’t get him out before it's too late, you’ll basically be stuck this way like Amina is.

Jordan: Is there anything I can do?

Claire:  Pray that there’s a cheap flight out to you on Sunday.  You’re buying.

~ CLICK