She was nervous the morning of her appointment, and Kyle could tell.  He spoke with her very softly all the way to the doctor’s office, reminding her how simple the procedure was, how she could back out at any time if she didn’t feel comfortable.  She spoke only once, and though her voice was shaky, she was firm.  “I’m tired of being a burden.”  After that, Kyle let the matter drop.

There were four septum top glass vials, and the doctor patiently explained each as he prepared the injections.  The first was a cocktail of genetic amplifiers and transcription factors, tailored specifically to Monica’s condition.  The second was a pituitary stimulant.  The third contained the building blocks of estrogen, testosterone, and several hormones associated with late-term pregnancy.  The final vial contained laboratory-generated stem cells, and a host of factors usually present in the body only during very early childhood. 

“In essence,” he explained, while applying the fourth band-aid to Monica’s arm.  “It will make your body simultaneously think it’s in puberty, pregnant, and less than a year old.  Don’t underestimate that last one – the body undergoes rapid, almost exponential growth during that period.”  He chuckled.  “Not that you need to worry about anything so dramatic, little lady.”

Kyle asked her three times if she was okay on the drive home.  “I promise you, I am,” Monica replied yet again, and if there was exasperation in her voice it was highly tempered by affection.  “They were big needles, sure – but they were only needles.  I’m fragile, I admit, but it isn’t like I’m made of glass.”

Kyle straightened slightly.  “Okay sure – but it’s not the needles that has me worried – it’s all that goop inside them.”

She reached over, and gently patted his hand.  “I appreciate your concern, I really do.  If there’s anything wrong, I’ll tell you.  For right now….”  Monica seemed to consider, staring out the window, kicking her feet thoughtfully.  “I feel a bit antsy, like I just drank a big cup of coffee.  Other than that, I actually feel kind of good.”

At twenty-two, Monica was three years older than him.  At a glance, no one would guess that she was any older than nine or ten.  She had a rare genetic disorder that had caused her to grow very slowly throughout childhood, and had topped out at just over four feet tall around her thirteenth birthday.  This, combined with her total lack of womanly curves, and short blond hair which stubbornly failed to grow even down to her shoulders, completed the illusion of a little girl just ready for fifth grade. 

Growing up together, Kyle had made it clear that if anyone made fun of her or threatened her safety, they would have to deal with him.  This resulted in several fights, very few of which he won.  Monica had appreciated his devotion all the same, offering him thanks, apologizing for all the trouble her small stature was to him.  Kyle had never complained.  The two were close.  He loved his sister, and she loved him.   

The big house was quiet with just the two of them.  Their parents had left that previous evening to visit family in the old country, and expected to be gone for most of the summer.  The two sat around the kitchen table, not sure yet to do with the place all to themselves.  They talked, voices hushed.  Inevitably, the subject came around to how much bigger Monica might grow before the summer ended.

“Mom’s five two, and dad’s about five eight,” she mused.  “They’re really both on the short side.  You’re lucky you’re as tall as you are.”

“What can I say?” Kyle, who was just over six feet tall, replied.  He struck a pose, flexing.  “I always ate my Wheaties.”

“Uh-huh, THAT’S what did it.  Not luck of the genetic draw or anything.”  Monica rolled her eyes.  “Anyway, I bet I can get as tall as mom by the end of summer.  With a little luck, I could even eek out dad.”  She smiled wistfully.  “It’s even possible I could end up as tall as you.”

Kyle frowned.  “That sounds…kind of optimistic.  Don’t most people only grow a few inches on the treatment?  Maybe you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“You obviously haven’t studied up on it the way I have,” Monica replied, her dark eyes hardening, her lip jutting out petulantly.  Kyle knew that look – it was the same one their mother wore, when she was determined to get her way.  “The growth response is just under four inches – ON AVERAGE.  According to the more in-depth literature, the effect is more pronounced for women, for young adults aged eighteen to twenty-five, AND proportionately more efficacious for very short individuals.  In other words: for people like ME.  My back-of-the-envelope work suggests I should expect to grow a foot, minimum.”

“You’re already got two of the prettiest little feet I’ve ever seen,” Kyle teased.  “Why would you want a third one?”

“You’re the worst,” Monica sighed, suppressing a laugh.  She pushed back from the table, and moved to jump down from her chair.

“Where are you going?” Kyle asked – more sharply than he intended.

“Um…to…get a glass of water?”  She considered for a moment, then sat back down.  “Oh r-right.  Sorry.”

Kyle stood up, and made for the cupboard.  “Yeah – that’s my job.  I’m supposed to be taking extra-special care of you, right?”  He laughed.  “I mean, more than I usually do.”

Monica said nothing, but chewed on her lip, looking as if she had something to say.  When Kyle offered her a glass, she took it gratefully with both her little hands.  “Thank you.”  She took a small sip, staring at him thoughtfully.  “I’m still feeling jittery – if you were curious.  Like I know you’d thought I’d be feeling under the weather after the treatment?  I’m not.  In fact I’ve got so much energy right now, I just want to go run laps around the house, or move furniture, or….”

“Why don’t we just stay inside today?” Kyle interrupted.  “Even if you’re feeling good, let’s just stick to the plan.  No strenuous activity for at least two days.  The way we agreed, right?”

Again she rolled her eyes at him, but then she nodded her acceptance.  “Okay lil’ bro…you probably know best.”  She lifted her eyes, and gave him a naughty little smile.  “After all, I AM a growing girl.

The day passed slowly, with the two of them taking turns choosing shows on Netflix.  They both went to bed early, mostly from boredom.  In the morning, Monica was bigger.

She didn’t grow much, not on that first day.  It was enough that Kyle noticed, and commented while preparing her breakfast.  “I’ve grew a whole inch overnight,” she replied happily.  “Some of that can probably be accounted for by time of day variance – you’re taller in the morning than at night, you know?”

“That’s probably all it is,” Kyle reasoned, setting a small plate of eggs in front of his sister.  “I don’t care how effective this treatment is – people don’t grow THAT fast.  At least, not for long.”

Monica said nothing, though her smile spoke volumes.

By the end of the week, there was no longer any doubt.  Monica was growing at a pace that could hardly be believed.  Now four feet five inches tall, she had been required to raid a trunk full of Kyle’s old childhood clothing just to find something that fit.  He teased her about this, but had to admit she looked good in his old Ben 10 t-shirt. 

In addition to growing taller, Monica was filling out rapidly.  The only ways it had once been possible to tell her from a normal nine year-old girl had been by the maturity of her eyes, and the intelligence with which she spoke.  Puberty had come for her at last, and had apparently arrived with every intention of making up for lost time.  Her breasts, still quite small but very firm, were getting bigger every day.  Her hips were wider than the previous week, her ass much rounded and curvier.  Her short blond hair was growing much longer and thicker as well.  She even, much to everyone’s surprise, seemed to be getting more athletic.  When Kyle noticed the faint development of muscle on her forearms, he promptly challenged her to an arm wrestling match.  Monica politely declined.

With her new size, Kyle found himself willing to listen when Monica argued that they could do more than sit around and watch television all day.  He could find her easier in a crowd, she reasoned, and even if she was still extremely petite, she at least wasn’t as fragile as before. 

Truth be told Kyle was happy to find an excuse to lift Monica’s virtual house arrest.  It would have been tragic to pass an entire summer without ever leaving the house.  That, and there was something about her new appearance that made her arguments far more compelling.  She was visibly a woman now – albeit one whose head came no higher than the middle of his chest – and so it was impossibly to dismiss her requests as simple childish desires.

The two began going out almost every night – to movies, or local concerts, or sometimes just out to dinner with the money their parents had left.  Their little sibling dates were wonderful, except for one little problem: when they were away from the house, Monica was always incredibly clingy.  She would self-consciously slip her tiny hand into his from across the table at dinner, or lean her head against his arm as the lights came down in the theater. 

Kyle fought himself over these gestures of affection, and in the end decided Monica was just nervous to be out among so many people at her new size.  She was looking for comfort, that was all.  He was glad to provide it, but it awakened certain feelings in him that were decidedly awkward.  Kyle had been single for many months now, and the way Monica touched him was eerily similar to the way his last girlfriend had when they were out on dates.  He resolved to ignore it, but this was becoming difficult.  Day by day Monica grew taller, developing into an extremely attractive young woman.  He began to notice more than a few jealous looks from other men, who were unaware he was just out with his sister.

Ten days after Monica’s treatment, Kyle awoke in the middle of the night, a half-remembered and very vivid dream still fresh in his mind.  He stared about the darkened room, catching his breath, trying to recall the details.  It had been something pleasant, and from the scraps that he could recall, highly erotic.  There had been a woman, with eyes hard and dark like obsidian, yet those eyes were very kind.  He could remember the heat of her as she pressed against him.  And her scent…alluring and naughty, all sweat and musk and a faint twinge of something floral.  She touched him…he had felt that, almost unnaturally real.  He had wanted her to touch him more.  But then, something had made him wake.

Kyle settled back under the covers, determined to try and recapture the dream.  He’d just started to drift off when a strange sound came from the other room.  A voice.  Possibly one in distress.  Reluctantly he went to investigate, padding as quietly as he could down the dark hall in his bare feet. 

The sounds were coming from Monica’s room.  It was her soft voice, murmuring, sometimes groaning.  They weren’t noises of distress.  His dream came flooding back, and in an instant he knew what those sounds were.  Kyle made up his mind to leave his sister in peace, but something almost like a compulsion made him stay.  The door was open a crack, and silently, Kyle nudged it wider.

The smell was the first thing he noticed – it was the exact one from his dream.  He realized suddenly he’d been smelling it for days: a faint background whenever Monica was near.  Never had it been this intense.  Underneath the blankets, he could see the shape her body as she rhythmically rocked…back, and forth.  The sounds slowly grew more and more frantic, building toward a crescendo.

Kyle shut the door before she could finish.  He returned to bed, feeling guilty.  It took him a long time to fall asleep.

It was the second morning after Kyle’s late night excursion when Monica matter-of-factly demanded to be taken shopping. 

“What, more clothes?”  Kyle looked up from contemplating his empty cereal bowl.  Since the events of two nights before, he’d been powerfully aware of that scent, always hanging around Monica.  It was getting stronger every day, and it was distracting – it made his attention wander, often to places he’d rather it not go.  “We just bought you a new wardrobe the other day – if we keep running to the mall every time you have a growth spurt, we’re going to run through the money mom and dad gave us.  It’s suppose to last all summer.”

Monica stood, collecting her brother’s breakfast dishes.  “Not for clothes, no – although I HAVE almost outgrown the last set already.  I know money’s tight, I’ll be able to make due.  Anyway in a few more inches I’ll be able to wear mom’s stuff, won’t I?”

He watched her clear the table in silence, unable to keep himself from noticing the way her full hips swayed as she moved, or how her too-small outfit clung to her generous frame.  She was five foot one this morning, or so she had happily reported in her daily update – and that meant the jeans and t-shirt purchased only four days earlier was laughably tiny on her now. 

“Okay, so what are we shopping for then?” he finally asked.

Monica blushed, and took a long time to answer.  She murmured something unintelligible.

“Sorry – a nest stump?  Is that some kind of bird feeder?  I don’t….”

“No,” Monica sighed, gritting her teeth.  “I said I need a BREAST PUMP.  And thanks for making this not-at-all awkward conversation so much easier, oh brother of mine.”

“Oh.  OH!”  Kyle felt his face growing hot.  “Since when, um…do you need….”

“Because of the hormones, obviously.  Wait, did you even READ the pamphlet the doctor gave us?”  She gave her brother an exasperated, if affectionate look.  “Ah well, don’t worry about it.  The point is, in rare cases women on the treatment can experience certain symptoms related to late-stage pregnancy.  Like, er…lactation.  It was kind of a problem this morning until I got it under control.  See?”

Monica pressed down on her t-shirt, cupping both hands over the curve of her left breast.  Kyle suddenly felt hundreds of tiny moths fluttering in his stomach.  Monica was easily a C-cup now, and seeing the shape of his sister’s body presented this way was almost too much.  He forced himself to look where she wanted and…yes.  There was definitely a small wet spot over the imprint of her nipple.  “In a way, I should be glad this is all I got.  Other women have reported wild mood swings, odd food cravings, or even extreme sexual arousal, and I….”

“Okay!” he interrupted, shifting to hide his unwelcome erection.  “Do you want to go NOW, or can I change out of my pajamas first?”

From then on, Monica would excuse herself from time to time to milk.  In the mornings she would bring a half full bottle with her down from her bedroom, dump it down the drain, and carefully rinse the bottle clean before seeing to her breakfast.  In the afternoons, she would ask Kyle to pause the show they were watching and head up to her room for a time.  And in the evenings, before they went out, he would have to wait while she finished tending to herself.  Her smile was always apologetic and a bit guilty after these sessions.  Often when she returned, the smell would be very strong on her – this happened especially often in the afternoons.  It made him dizzy, and want to excuse himself for entirely different reasons.  

By the morning of Monica’s three week follow-up, she was taller than their dad.  “Five nine!” she’d reported as she came to breakfast, carrying a bottle of milk – as always these days, it was almost full.  She was dressed in jeans which clung to her like a second skin, and one of her father’s flannel button-ups.  None of her bras had fit for days, but her ample breasts were so unnaturally perky that they hardly needed any support at all.  She’d left the top two buttons undone, and when she leaned forward to reach for the toast, Kyle had helplessly felt his eyes drawn to the long, dark line of her cleavage.  His sister seemed not to notice – though he imagined her smile was slightly knowing as she asked him to pass the butter.

At the hospital, Monica insisted on seeing the doctor alone.  Kyle stared at his phone in the waiting room for nearly an hour, until a nurse quietly asked him if he wouldn’t mind speaking with the doctor.

Monica sat on the edge of the examination table, her feet reaching almost all the way to the floor.  She looked embarrassed, and there was that old petulant look about her – hard eyes, jutting lip – that made Kyle think she had just lost an argument.  The doctor, meanwhile, simply looked mortified.  Kyle didn’t think he’d ever seen a man blush so deeply, and the stark white of his lab coat made the color even more striking.

“Your, ah, sister asked if I wouldn’t mind sharing some of the conclusions from today’s follow-up.  She thought it would be easier for you to hear coming from a professional.”

“Is she okay?” Kyle asked at once, taking a step forward.

The doctor held up his clipboard as if prepared to defend himself with it.  “Yes, yes!  She’s fine.  Monica has...grown significantly more than we expected, however.”

Behind his back, Monica gave a little I-told-you-so flare of her eyebrows.

“It’s not a BAD thing, and she doesn’t seem especially concerned.  Quite, ah, the contrary.  The effects of the treatment will last several more months however, and as I’ve been explaining to Monica, there’s no telling how much bigger she might get before all is said and done.”

Monica’s grin at this was definitely smug.

“I’ve asked her about her, um…s-sexual habits.  Because, well, it’s well-documented that certain hormones released by receiving sexual pleasure catalyze the effects of the treatment.  She claims to have been experiencing very intense…symptoms of late.  As such, I’ve advised her to…cease sexual contact for the time being.”  He cleared his throat.  “By which I mean, to refrain from masturbating.”

Kyle felt his cheeks decide to give the doctor’s a run for their money.  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in a slightly cracking voice.

“Because your sister asked me to share this information with you,” he repeated, in a tone that indicated it was the last conversation on earth he wanted to have.  “It’s my duty to do so at her request.  I think she simply didn’t want to have to say something so embarrassing to you herself.”

But Monica no longer looked embarrassed.  “I wanted him to tell you,” she explained.  “Because I didn’t trust that after I walked out of this office, that I would WANT to tell you.  The way I’ve been feeling lately…I can hardly control myself.  I’m going to need your help to keep me from cheating.”  Her eyes flashed as she looked up at him, and she gave him a teasing smile.  “We wouldn’t want me to get TOO big, now would we?” 

All that summer, Monica had grown somewhat more than an inch taller each day.  Her growth slowed to a crawl at once after the follow-up.  The scent that seemed to surround her constantly – the one Kyle now understood became stronger after each of her self-pleasure sessions – dropped to a dull background.  This came as a great relief, and for a time the two settled back into their old routine – Kyle taking care of her, while she sat quietly and enjoyed his service.

Slowly things began to change.  First, Monica insisted on helping with the chores.  On some level Kyle was sad to lose sole responsibility for the upkeep of the house, but he was happy to give her something to do.  He even went so far as to make a chore chart, using every color of magic marker in the house.  Monica called it a thing of beauty, and set to work straightaway on the vacuuming. 

Her taste in television shows began to shift as well.  She lost interest in her daily regimen of game shows and science documentaries, and began to prefer romantic comedies or psychological thrillers.  The common element, as far as Kyle could tell, was that most of these movies contained rather graphic sex scenes.  Considering the state of his sister’s hormones he decided this was tempting fate, and after a few days he put a stop to it.  Monica pouted.

Most troubling, however, was that Monica was excusing herself more and more frequently to milk.  This wouldn’t have presented a problem, if not for a rather awkward request Monica had made the day after her appointment.  She now insisted that Kyle come and stand outside her bedroom door during these sessions, “…so I won’t try and cheat.”  This was embarrassing enough on its own – never mind the sounds she made as she milked.  Deep, lurid moans of pleasure, so loud and sensual that Kyle suspected they were at least a little exaggerated.  When he’d pounded on the door and asked if she wouldn’t mind keeping it down, Monica had replied sweetly that she couldn’t help it – she was just too pent-up. 

After many days of worrying, Kyle decided that even the privacy of her bedroom door was too risky, if these milking sessions were as pleasurable as she made them seem.  No matter how embarrassing, he announced that he should actually watch her milk, “…because how do I know you aren’t cheating if I can’t see you?” 

Monica objected, but it was clear she enjoyed this turn of events.  She seemed to take great joy in his discomfort, slowly stripping out of her shirt and bra, keeping her back turned so he could see nothing but the outermost curve of her enormous breasts around the muscular line of her back, and the gradually filling bottle of milk.

A week after the appointment, Monica’s moods started to become unstable.  Sometimes she would angrily demand things of him – that he make such and such for dinner, that it was his turn to clean the bathroom when the chore chart clearly said otherwise, that he give her backrubs and foot rubs that would sometimes last for hours.

Other times, she was frighteningly affectionate.  Monica would almost sit on his lap while the two watched television, and once at the theater she’d absently placed her hand on his inner thigh and gently squeezed.  He’d been far too surprised to object at first, and once enough time had passed the thought of pointing it out became much too awkward.  Monica had left it there for the entire movie. 

It took him awhile to notice, but that distracting scent of hers had come back, stronger than ever.  He found it getting harder and harder to concentrate when she was around.  His train of thought kept derailing into disconnected, dream-like images of eroticism.  Thankfully, there were no restrictions on how often HE was allowed to practice self-pleasure – that helped to keep things tamped down.  Although when he did, his sister’s image had a disconcerting habit of making unwelcome appearances in his fantasies.  Each time he patiently pushed it away, as though training a stubborn cat to stay off the counter-top.

One night in early July, it was Kyle’s turn to wash the dishes.  Monica had just finished one of her supervised milking sessions, and was now reading in the other room.  Kyle had almost finished loading the dish washer, when he came across Monica’s bottle – with nearly a quarter inch of milk still standing inside. 

He stared at it for a long time, with the slowly dawning understanding of why this struck him as such an odd sight.  Monica always, ALWAYS dumped her milk down to the last drop, then carefully rinsed any remaining traces down the drain.  Today, she’d apparently forgotten.

Not entirely sure what he was doing, Kyle looked over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being observed.  Fully aware of how wrong this was, yet somehow unable to help himself, he tilted his head back and emptied the contents of the bottle into his mouth.  The milk was sweet, warmer than room temperature, and astonishingly delicious.  The flavor seemed to be almost the distilled essence of Monica’s strange, erotic scent.  Suddenly his head was spinning, his pulse racing.  His groin began to tingle.  In seconds he was hard as a rock.

Kyle let the bottle fall into the sink with a clatter and dashed up to his room, his hard-on bouncing ahead of him as he took the stairs two at a time.  He locked the  door behind him.  It took no time at all to undress, and if this was because his clothes were just the tiniest bit loose on him, he was in no state to notice.  The moan that escaped his lips as he first ran his thumb along the length of his shaft was ear-splitting.  Dimly hoping Monica hadn’t heard, he lay back, holding a pillow over his face, and began to stroke himself.

The pleasure was immediate, sharp, explosive – unlike anything he had ever experienced before.  Kyle thrashed around on his bed, and in only seconds found himself cumming harder than he had in his entire life.  He lay panting for nearly a minute, trying to get his bearings, and faster than seemed possible found himself hard again. 

He pleasured himself this way for over an hour, and completely lost track of the number of times he orgasmed.  When his sister’s image floated into his mind, he didn’t try to push her away.  He let her wander freely through his imagination, and with each release she came to him with a fresh fantasy.  Monica in new places, in new positions…letting him do new things to her…doing new things to him.  And each time, his image of her seemed to be growing bigger, curvier, sexier.  By the end she all but dwarfed him, her head stretching to the ceiling as she sat on the floor, using only her smallest finger to bring him to his end.

It took him a long time to clean up the mess.  He dressed in a baggy set of pajamas, and sheepishly made his way downstairs. 

“Everything alright, lil’ bro?” Monica called from the living room, where she still sat with her nose buried in a book.

“Everything’s great!” he called back, with a bit too much enthusiasm.  “Why wouldn’t it be great?” 

She didn’t answer.  But around the edge of the book, he could see her lip turn up in a smile.  The dish washer was running.  The milking bottle was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, Monica was bigger.  With her much slower growth these days, she’d long since stopped reporting her daily measurements.  Once in a great while she’d give an update, always the day her height reached the next even inch.  Five eleven had come three days before, and Monica had teased him unmercifully with the news – about how she was finally almost as tall as him, about how she’d treat him once they were the same height.  “I promise not to be TOO rough with you of course – I’ll have to remember how fragile you’ll be compared to me.  But come to think of it, maybe I WILL take you up on that arm wrestling match…little brother.”  It was odd then, how today she simply ate her breakfast across the table from him in silence after such a large and obvious growth spurt.

Kyle finished his cereal, and decided to pour himself another bowl.  His clothes didn’t quite fit today.  Well, he HAD been eating less, and there was one easy way to fix that.  Monica watched him as he ate, a mysterious twinkling in her dark eyes.  So intense was her stare that eventually Kyle asked her what, did he have something on his face?

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.  Just looking at you.  Thinking how cute you are.  Thinking how much I love my little bro…how grateful I am for all your help.”

Kyle felt warmed by this.  It was something she used to tell him all the time – except for the part about being cute – and almost never did anymore since her treatment.  He realized he had missed it.  “It’s nothing, you know…that’s what brothers are for, aren’t they ?”

“I suppose they are.”  She shrugged, and smiled that mysterious smile of hers.

“Right.  Well, what brought THAT on?”

“Just…noticing how things have…changed.”  She stood, and moved to carry his dishes away.  As she bent over him her breast plushed very softly against his shoulder, and her blond hair, now three quarters of the way down her back, fell into his face.  “Oops, sorry about that.”  She gave him a teasing smile, obviously waiting for him to complain.

He sighed.  “Okay, get it over with,” Kyle remarked, hoping his weary tone concealed his sudden arousal.  “Go on and gloat.”

She looked at him curiously.  Kyle found he couldn’t tell if her innocence was feigned or not.  “Gloat?  About what, little brother?”

He sighed, louder this time.  “You’re finally as tall as me.  It’s totally obvious.  I know you’ve been wanting this for MONTHS.  So come on, rub it in my face why don’t you?”

“Do you WANT me to rub it in your face?” she asked blandly.  He was uncertain if the innuendo was intentional…though she did bend very slightly as she spoke, bringing her large, plump breasts inches from his cheek.

“No, but I don’t want you sneaking around about it either.”  A thought occurred to him, and when he went on it was in a conspiratorial whisper.  “Are you being coy about it because, you know, you…touched yourself last night?  Is that why you grew?”

Her eyes hardened, but she looked more amused than displeased.  “Oh, and what if I had, huh Kyle?  Would you stop me?  Hmm?  Would you come rushing into my room late at night, grab my naughty hand, turn me over your knee and teach me a lesson?” She laughed playfully.  “I think I’d very much like that.  Or, at least I’d like it if you tried.”

“You know I’m supposed to keep you from cheating,” he said, his voice weak and watery.

She ignored him, and leaned in very, very close, until his nose was nearly resting in her cleavage.  “Besides, I don’t think YOU have much room to lecture ME about masturbating.  Not after what you did last night, Kyle-y poo.”  She put both hands on his shoulders, and lowered herself until her lips brushed against his ear.  “Did you know you were moaning my name?  Ahh – I bet you didn’t, did you?  But it was so cute!  ‘Oh Monica, Monica!  Yes…bigger!  Please bigger!’”  She let out a mockingly sensual groan, and nibbled on his earlobe.  Abruptly she stood, grabbing his dishes.  As she walked away, her gait was overtly sexual.

“But no.  Since you have the temerity to ask: I did NOT touch myself last night.  Nor have I since my follow-up.  I’ve been good.  If I happen to be I’m bigger today, well…that isn’t the reason.  Now, are you going to take your big sister shopping today, or are you going to have to watch me slowly outgrow all of YOUR clothes – just like you did with mom and dad’s?”  She tugged at the seam of the nylon workout shirt she was wearing – Kyle’s.  The garment almost fit, except that her  breasts lifted it enough that several inches of her midriff stood out.

The question was rhetorical.  More, it was an open invitation from Monica to change the subject, without dwelling on the fact that she’d caught him last night, or that she knew just what his fantasies had been about.  It would cost him more of their meager spending money, but just then it was a price he was happy to pay.  Without another word he left the table and dressed himself for the mall.  It took some time – most of it spent lacing and relacing his sneakers.  He just couldn’t seem to get them tight enough.

At the mall, she led the way into a boutique that was well out of their price range.  He found a place to lean against the wall outside the dressing room, feeling out of temper, yet strangely giddy.  When Monica emerged, she wore a flimsy white button-up open to the middle of her chest, a matching knee-length skirt, and, worst of all, four-inch heels. 

She frowned at him from her new 6’4” vantage, crossing her arms over her breasts.  “No,” she said.

“No?”  Kyle stared up at her in confusion.  Her scent seemed especially strong all of a sudden…it was really making his head spin.  Or perhaps that was her unexpected increase in height.

Monica pointed to an unoccupied bench, closer to the dressing room door.  “I want you to sit down while I show off, Kyle.  I’m already taller than you – with a little help.”  Here she pointed at her shoes, and grinned.  “But I’d really like for you to see me from…a lower perspective.”

For some reason this irked Kyle.  He had been feeling a bit off all day, as if there were something wrong with the way he was viewing the world.  Seeing Monica in those shoes was bad enough - the idea of ‘a lower perspective’ wasn’t at all agreeable just then.

Monica watched him, smiling playfully.  In the instant he opened his mouth to protest, she leaned her body against him, lightly pinning him to the wall.  He was certainly strong enough to push her away, but as surprised as he was the idea never occurred to him.  “Oh Monica,” she moaned breathlessly, as she grinded herself against his thigh.  “Bigger!  Please bigger…mmm!”

Her voice was darkly sensual, and loud enough that several heads turned toward the two of them.  He caught more than a few jealous looks – apparently some of the men in the store were envious of Kyle having a statuesque beauty hanging all over him, moaning.  He blushed furiously. 

Laughing, Monica released him.  “Sorry little brother.  But you have to admit – you earned that one.  Now come on, do this for me.  I’ll make it up to you when we get home, I promise.”

Doing his best to hide his erection, Kyle obeyed.  Monica tried on several outfits for him: a couple of low cut summer dresses, a halter top (she complained that it was way too small for her chest, and demonstrated how easy it was for her to jounce out) and even, as her grand finale, a bikini that was at least two sizes too small.  She posed each for him, asking him how he looked, making him answer in full and complete sentences.  And every outfit had at least one thing in common – each was accentuated with those same four-inch heels.

They left the store without buying anything, much to Kyle’s relief.  While Monica perused the aisles at the anchor store, he took several minutes alone in the men’s room to calm himself, splashing cold water on his face. 

Monica was even more affectionate than usual that day, even after they returned home.  She was always touching him, surprising him with hugs, stroking his shoulders, pressing herself against him.  Sometimes her touches were less than appropriate.

Kyle needed to stop his out-of-control sister – he knew that.  Yet he found himself utterly unable to voice an objection.  Each time he set his will to the task, it would evaporate the moment she laid her dark, almond eyes on him.  It was hopeless anyway – she would only tease him with those overtly sexual moans again, and he would melt into a puddle.  Late in the day, he even found himself reciprocating.  Opening his arms so she could rest her head in his lap as they watched a movie, squeezing her in a bit more than brotherly fashion as she caught him in the hallway with a surprise hug.  And he found himself following her from room to room, as if he couldn’t bear to be parted from her for more than a few minutes. 

She made dinner that evening – a fantastic spread – even though it was his turn.  She then proceeded to do all the washing too, despite their long-held precedent that when one of them cooked, the other would do the dishes.  “You’ve had a hard day,” she explained sympathetically, patting him on the head.  “Just sit there and relax for tonight, okay Kyle-y?”

On Friday of that week, Monica came to breakfast and casually announced she was six foot two.  If she had ever been six one, the height had come and gone without fanfare.  For his part, Kyle thought it was a very sudden spurt – Monica looked MUCH bigger than the day before.  She stared him in the eye with a teasing smirk for many seconds, daring him to ask, daring him to object. 

He should’ve said something, he really should’ve.  He didn’t.  Her smell was overpowering all that day, and her new and improved body was beyond amazing.  She was toned, curvy, athletic, with an enormous, pert ass, and breasts that must’ve been at least F-cups that wobbled prettily with every step she took.  She was far more attractive than any girl in all but his wildest fantasies. 

On Thursday the week after that, she was suddenly six four.  She made sure to remind him of how tall she had been in her shoes – and that she would now be that height, permanently.  Kyle nodded, trying to keep his head straight.  He didn’t think her smell had ever been that pleasant…or that strong.  As part of her proclamation, she declared that her pitiful little bed was much too small for her now.  From then on, she would be sleeping in their parents’ room.  By then, Monica was doing nearly all the chores around the house.  It only seemed fair.

As her size increased, the need for her milking had grown almost exponentially – as had the way she teased him while she did.  She rarely bothered to turn her back at all anymore as he watched.  Instead she would daintily conceal her thumb-sized tits with the palms of her hands, or beneath the crook of her elbow.  This wasn’t actually good concealment, and it was common for him to see much more of his sister than was proper.  From the way she would look him full in the face as she tended to herself, Monica clearly knew it. 

Sometimes she would tell him at length how good milking felt.  “It’s like I’m having a tiny little orgasm on my chest,” she confessed breathlessly one afternoon, as she began to fill her third bottle.  “And it just lasts, and lasts, and LASTS.” 

The description of the sensation reminded him, with painful clarity, of the way he’d felt after tasting her milk…how the feeling had lasted and lasted, how he’d been able to cum so many times in such a short span.  Even with all of Monica’s teasing as inspiration, and her entrenched starring role in the theater of his imagination, he found he couldn’t get himself off more often than once every few hours.  Day after day he found himself thinking about the effects of her milk, how amazing it had made him feel – the endless stamina that had filled him, the overwhelming pleasure.  It was a kind of torture, seeing her fill bottle after bottle, day after day, and then dutifully wash it all down the drain.

One day, as she sat milking on their parents’ bed, he asked her about this practice.  “You know,” she moaned, as the first thick spray of the session came, “You really should read that pamphlet one of these days.”

“Suppose you could give me the short version?” he asked, his mouth dry.  At Monica’s request he no longer tried to conceal the bulge in his pants while he chaperoned her.  He was terrible at keeping it hidden, she’d explained, and his attempts made it all the more awkward.  Anyway he might as well just relax.

Monica sighed, and gave him a loving, if exasperated smile.  “I SUPPOSE I’ll educate you.”  She made herself more comfortable, with feet resting firmly on the floor, legs spread wide.  Today she wore nothing but a pair of too-small pink polka-doted panties, with a very noticeable and growing wet spot in the center.  She made no attempt to cover herself otherwise…her naked breasts rose and fell gently in time with her breathing.  “You have some idea at least how full of hormones I am right now, yes?  It’s all I can do to control myself on a daily basis.  Breast milk, even for NORMAL women, is almost nothing BUT hormones.  Things to made the baby calm, to make it devoted to its mother, to help its metabolism, so forth.  MY milk has so many exotic chemicals floating in it that it’s classified as a controlled substance.”

Kyle laughed.

“No, I’m serious.  When I told the doctor I was experiencing lactation symptoms, he made me sign a form saying I’d dispose and not distribute.  It had a Drug Enforcement Agency seal at the top and everything.  I don’t know WHY someone would want to drink it…or what it would do for that matter.  Probably nothing good.”

She paused long enough to switch out the already-full bottle attached to the pump with an empty one.  “Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Fair.  So…what movie do you want to see tonight?”

Despite Monica’s warnings, Kyle’s obsession with her milk continued to grow.  The next week, as she suddenly swelled to six and a half feet tall, he began to dream about her almost every night.  The way she touched him in those dreams, with milk flowing freely down her chest…as good as it felt, he knew it was a pale imitation of the night he’d tasted her.  He always woke unsatisfied, and stroked himself to a disappointing orgasm before drifting back to sleep.

There was a heat wave in early August, and the air conditioner was broken.  Kyle and Monica’s cash supplies were so low that a repairman was out of the question, and so all they could do was endure the heat as best they could.  Kyle awakened in the night, finding that he’d kicked all the blankets off in his sleep.  The windows were open, and outside all was calm except for the soft night-song of frogs and insects, and occasional cars passing on the street.

His erection was painfully intense.  Even his baggy boxer shorts – all he had worn to sleep that night – pressed uncomfortably against it.  Absently he reached out, intending to give himself release before drifting back to sleep…but decided his need to urinate was greater for the time being.

It took several minutes in the bathroom for his manhood to deflate enough to use the toilet.  He washed his hands, splashing water on his face, and walked back toward his bedroom.  He felt better than he had in days.  Perhaps tonight he’d be able to fall back asleep without a self-pleasure session.

The door was open as he walked past his parents’ room – now Monica’s room.  He was resolved not to peek on her, knowing it would only cause trouble, but a faint white glinting caught his eye, made him pause.  Monica was asleep, covered by only a flimsy top sheet, partially see-through in the pale moonlight.  Her enormous feet stuck out from underneath, hanging over the edge of the bed.  From the way the sheet lay on her body, it was obvious she was naked underneath.  The gentle sound of her snoring came, rhythmic and even. 

Standing on the bedside table, seeming to glow with their own internal light, were four completely full bottles of milk.

His mouth instantly began to water.  He’d been dreaming of another taste for weeks – a swallow, or a drop even would be enough.  Four whole bottles…!  His mind reeled at the thought of such a bounty. 

Slowly, Kyle crept into her room.  The floorboards creaked under his feet, but Monica did not stir.  There was no way he could get away with this scot-free – even in his irrational state of excitement he knew that.  Monica would notice the missing milk tomorrow – if she didn’t wake up at the sounds of his passion.  He would go down to the basement, he reasoned.  There was a spare bed for guests down there, and who cared if it was dusty?  He could shut the door, bite down on his belt…she would never hear him.  Tomorrow she would tease him for his theft, but that wasn’t so bad, was it?  No, not so bad at all.

He was close now, so close.  Monica’s smell was strong, already reawakening his flagging erection.  And now the bottles were within reach.  He could only carry two…but two would be more than enough.  He lifted them, one in each hand, and stared at them longingly.  They were room temperature – probably hours old by now if she’d milked before bed.  He didn’t care.  The temptation of them, now that he finally had what he had lusted after for so long, was too much.  He’d have a sip now.  Just a sip.  The rest could wait until he was downstairs.

It was creamy, delicious, better than he could have possibly hoped.  It was almost as if Monica’s growth over the last weeks had somehow sweetened it, intensified its flavor.  A sip became a gulp…then another, and another.  Before he knew it, he had drained half the bottle.

His cock swelled, his body tingled from head to foot.  The feeling…he had wanted it again for so long…oh God, it was more than he could handle!  He knew at once that he was going to moan, that it would not be a quiet sound.  He knew it would wake his sister, that he would be caught in the act.  He swallowed, inhaled, prepared to give himself away – and in the instant before he did, he saw the twinkle of Monica’s eyes in the moonlight, even as she still pretended to snore.  She was awake.  She had been awake the whole time.

His moan was loud, and guttural, and lasted long enough that Monica had plenty of time to sit up, to cast aside her sheet, to set her feet on the floor and regard him fondly.  When he had finished, she lovingly stroked his chin.  “Was it good, little brother?  I wondered if I might have a certain little visitor tonight.  My bait was too much for you to resist, huh?” 

Her finger caught a stray drop that clung to the corner of his lip, pressed it into his mouth.  Another little surge of pleasure came, and with it, another small moan.  The tingling kept getting stronger, making it almost impossible for him to stand.  He wavered, holding himself against the bed, using both hands for support.

Grinning, Monica sauntered across the room, closed the door, turned the lock with a solid CLICK.  Kyle followed her helplessly with his gaze, finding himself utterly transfixed by her.  God, she was so big.  How had he become used to this?  It was as if he were noticing for the first time.  The top of his head barely came to her chin, far lower than his memory said was right.  In the tricky light of the moon, she seemed to be getting bigger each time he looked at her.

“I’ve known you wanted my milk for soooo long,” she purred, returning to sit on the bed.  She positioned herself with her legs spread on either side of him, holding him in place with her knees against his hips.  “Ever since that wonderful night when I left you a taste, I’ve seen it in your eyes.  The way you’ve watched me every day.  The way you’ve called my name every night.”  She chuckled.  Kyle wished that he could crawl into a hole and die. 

He moaned again.

“What’s absolutely silly,” she went on, catching him by the shoulders, turning him to face her. “Is that you could’ve had as much as you wanted – if only you’d bothered to ask.  I’ve WANTED to share with you, Kyle.  Oh yes.  And you wouldn’t have needed to settle for stolen sips of luke-warm leftovers.”  She cupped both of her massive breasts, each nearly as large as Kyle’s head, and bounced them suggestively.  “I would’ve let you drink…from the source.  Oh wow,” she exclaimed suddenly, covering her mouth to suppress a giggle.  “I didn’t think it’d be THIS effective.”

“W-why?”  Forming words was almost impossible now.  His lips felt as heavy as lead, his mind dull.  His dick throbbed and ached, pointing directly at Monica through his boxers, as if begging for her attention.

“Why didn’t I tell you?  Why did I tease you and torment you with something I knew you wanted OH so bad?”  She winked, then abruptly leaned down and planted her lips over his.  The kiss was all-encompassing, overwhelming.  It was all Kyle could do to keep his balance as his juggernaut of a sister forced her tongue into his mouth, gently probing, exploring.  It felt amazing…almost enough to give him the release he so badly craved.  Almost. 

“Obviously,” Monica went on, as she finally broke the kiss.  “Because you’re supposed to ASK for the things you want.  You’re a big boy Kyle.  Or well, you were.”  She laughed again.  “Look at you still going!  Maybe I shouldn’t have let you drink so much after all.”

He looked up at her, completely missing that moments before his gaze had been several inches above hers.  His mouth hung open stupidly.  “What?” he panted.

As a reply, Monica held up one finger.  Gently she drew it down over his stomach, toward his crotch.  Another long, low moan came…God, everything she did felt so good!  When she reached his boxers, however, she merely gave the elastic band a tiny nudge.  To his surprise, the garment easily slipped down his waist several inches, balanced for a moment on his erection, then slipped away to pool at his feet.

He stared down at himself, his manhood alarmingly hard, twitching faintly in time to his heartbeat.  He looked up at her again to ask silently for explanation – and again, she looked bigger than only a moment before.  Something wasn’t right…he couldn’t think…he couldn’t think….

Monica cleared her throat.  Very deliberately she grabbed him, made him face away from her.  There was a floor-length mirror across the room, and as he stared at his own reflection, Monica leaned down, her massive breasts plushing warm and heavy against his back.  She grinned, and her image in the mirror waved at him.  “Hello there, LITTLE brother.  Enjoying the view?”

“I’m…s-smaller!” he gasped.

She laughed a deep, rich laugh.  “Not just smaller, cutie – shrinking!  As in, present tense.  Here, watch.  Stand still.”

She took his hand, covering it completely with her own, and made him lift as high as he could.  Second by second he watched as it sank lower…and lower.  He could actually SEE himself shrinking.  Monica was right.  The perspective was so strange, watching his reflection get smaller, seeing the angle of reflection – and thus his entire reflected view – change as his head sunk lower.  And as his body dwindled he could see more and more of Monica behind him, as if his body were deferentially getting out of the way for her. 

“It’s been so sexy for the last few weeks,” Monica was saying behind him, as the two watched Kyle shrink.  “Getting to tease and rile up my adorable little brother, knowing something you didn’t.  I saw you shrink, you know – the first time you snuck some of my milk.  I mean well, I noticed it afterward, right away.  I had to do some research just to convince myself it was possible.  I think you probably lost about an inch.

“The best part was, you wanted MORE.  You were going to sleep every night, moaning about my milk…touching yourself.  I was jealous of that last part, I admit – that you were allowed to cum as much as you wanted, and I had to stay celibate.  I cheated.  A few times.  Did you notice?  I was so pent up I came really really hard, and it made me grow a lot.  I don’t think you minded, the way you were looking at my big breasts, the way you practically drooled when I would stand, towering over you, sooo much bigger than you.

“And now…as small as my milk is making you…I get to be much, MUCH bigger than you, don’t I?  I knew what would happen of course, if…WHEN you drank more.  I certainly didn’t expect it would shrink you THIS much!  I had hoped for a few more inches, to put you properly on the petite side of things but…gosh Kyle, look how tiny you’re getting!  You’re probably not even five feet tall anymore!  Mmm but that adorable little cock of yours doesn’t seem to be complaining…just look how happy he is!

“Oh wait, I’m sorry.  Am I the one that’s doing that to you?”  Monica’s tone was sympathetic as she pointed down at Kyle’s manhood.  It had turned a shade of angry purple, and was bobbing up and down frantically as she spoke, as if nodding in agreement.  “Here, why don’t I help you with that?”

Monica gently gripped his cock between the tips of her thumb and forefinger, and with a feather-light touch massaged her way up and down its length.  “You know Kyle,” she went on, speaking loudly enough to be heard over his frantic gasps and howls of pleasure.  “This is the first time I’ve actually seen you shrink in person, so you’ll forgive some wild speculation on my part.  I’m beginning to think it happens immediately after you drink, in the first few minutes.  The, shall we say, pleasurable side effects last quite a bit longer.”  She ran her thumb over the ultra-sensitive area just beneath the head of his penis, and giggled as his body went limp, his arms and legs spasming uncontrollably.  “Quite a bit longer, yes.  In any case, I say this because it looks like you’ve already finished shrinking.”  She leaned into him, settling his head between her breasts, and made him look up at her.  God, the smell of her…!  “Would you like to know how small you are?” she asked in a babying voice.

In truth, the answer terrified Kyle.  Yet through his erotic haze, he perceived the answer Monica wanted.  With her now massive size advantage, and the way she was making him feel, he had every reason in the world to keep her happy.

He nodded.

“I’d say you’re just a teensy…widdle bit over five feet tall.”  She punctuated the news with a powerful squeeze of his groin.  Kyle’s vision darkened, and as he began to collapse Monica reached down and scooped him up.  With a little grunt of effort she hoisted him into her lap, and promptly set her attention back to his cock.

“Now I know that seems quite small,” she went on in a placating voice, pumping him closer and closer toward his inevitable orgasm.  “But think of it this way – I used to be much, MUCH shorter than that, and I got along just fine.  Partly because I had you to take care of me, of course.  To protect me, to take care of my every want and desire.”  At this she paused in her narrative long enough to kiss him long and deep, her giant lips pressing hungrily against him.  “I’m very grateful for that by the way, and I think it’s high time I return the favor.  At my size, I’m going to be a MUCH better helper than you ever were.  Won’t I?  Yes I will…yes I will!”

Her grip tightened on his manhood.  The sensation took on a different tone…more purposeful, more deliberate.  “Kyle,” she growled.  “Do you want me to make you cum?”

He nodded submissively, staring up at her with wide, blank eyes.

She squeezed him once.  “Call me big sis.  You never do that…and I think you’ll be saying those words quite a bit more soon.”

It took him three tries to articulate the words.  “Big sis,” he husked.

“Good boy.  Now say, ‘please make me cum, big sis.’”

“Puh…puh….”  He swallowed.  When he spoke the words came out in one long high pitched screed.  “Please make me cum big sis!”

She stroked him faster now.  “Pretty please make me cum with sugar and ice cream and a cherry on top.”

“Pretty…pretty please…prettyyy ahhh!”

Kyle came.  The initial spurt flew high in the air, many feet over the top of Monica’s head.  She cooed to him, stroking him, milking every last drop of his jism from him.  When at last he subsided she held him to her chest, gently rocking him back and forth, still stroking him.  “There now.  I bet that felt soooo nice, didn’t it?  You’ve wanted big sis to do that for a LONG time now, haven’t you?” 

Chuckling, she released his cock, and lifted her cum-covered fingers to her lips.  “You know what I’VE been wanting to do this for so long?” she whispered.  “To taste little Kyle-y-poo.  Your sheets absolutely reek of cum you know, and I’ve been loving that smell all summer long.”

Making sure she had his attention, Monica purposefully licked herself clean, cat-like and seductive.  She watched him mischievously as she did, and grinned as his cock immediately began to swell back to full strength again.  “Aww!  Did my milk help your little penis get hard again sweetie?  That’s very, very good Kyle – because I’m not through with you yet.  Now, I want to talk about these silly rules we have about me touching myself…and about just how big I’m allow to get.”

“Do you think you can stand?”
 
Tentatively, his sister set him down on the floor.  His legs were weak, and he felt dizzy, but he kept his balance.  His over-stimulated groin still pulsed and ached for attention.  He looked around the room, trying to get his bearings.  Everything in this place was familiar, and yet nothing looked as it should.  It was a greater distance to the door…the ceiling stretched too far over his head.  He could no longer see what was on top of the chest of drawers.  And Monica…Monica was gargantuan. 
 
She watched his examination, a coy smile on her lips.  “I know it’s a lot to get used to,” she soothed.  “But really this is nothing to be afraid of, is it sweetie?  Not when I’M here to keep you safe.  Isn’t that right?”  She tapped him on the shoulder, made him look into her eyes.  Even sitting on the edge of the bed, the top of her head was several inches above his.  She looked like an amazon princess – almost two heads taller than him, with a body that seemed to drip with liquid sex and seduction.
 
Her legs were crossed.  As she stared kindly into his eyes, she deliberately placed her feet on either side of him and leaned back slightly.  Far beneath, the soft, trimmed line of her womanhood came into view.  Her scent was already intoxicatingly strong to begin with, and now it enveloped him completely.  The edges of his vision blurred, leaving Monica’s face as the only thing in sharp relief. 
 
“There, that’s better.  That always calms you down, doesn’t it?  You don’t need to worry about that big old scary room Kyle-y.  It’s just you, and me.  I love you so much little brother, you know that don’t you?”
 
Weakly, he nodded.
 
“And I know that you love me.  Do you think I’m sexy?  Hmm?  Even when I’m SO huge…and you’re so tiny?”
 
This time his nod was more emphatic.  She giggled.  “Well of course.  I knew that, silly.  I know how hot this big, sexy body of mine makes you.  But you know what’s REALLY not fair?”  Her smile faded, and her bottom lip came out in a pouty little frown.  “That this is all of me that there is.  That you don’t get to enjoy even MORE of me.  You DESERVE to have me even bigger, even sexier.  Yes you do.  Imagine Kyle…I could’ve spent this entire summer absolutely towering over you, using my new size in just whatever way would please you best.  Except for that silly rule about not touching myself.  It IS silly, isn’t it?”
 
Kyle hesitated.  It was so tempting to agree with her – in this moment, he couldn’t remember why they’d ever made that rule in the first place.
 
She hadn’t waited for him to reply.  “I’ve been SO good about following that rule – er, well mostly I have.  And that’s because it was important to you that I be your good, obedient sister.  But now I think there’s something you want more.”  She hugged him to her chest suddenly, and planted a sloppy, wet kiss against his forehead.  “Oh Kyle!  You DO want me to be bigger, don’t you?  PLEASE say you do.”
 
The tone of suffering in her voice was too much.  He would do ANYTHING to relieve her misery.  “O-okay,” he said, dreamily.  “You can…you can get bigger.”
 
She let out a happy, girlish little trill.  “Oh thank you – thank you!”  She kissed him again, and again, the immense power of her motions making him stumble around under the force of her lips.  “Now, it would be so easy for me to make myself grow – you can even watch if you want.  But I think I have a better idea.  Kyle, do you want to touch me?  You’ve fantasized about it I know and…it’s okay if you do little brother.  I’d like it very much, in fact.”
 
Trembling, Kyle reached out his hand, and stroked it gently against her thigh.  It was smooth, and toned, and inviting.  Monica let a little groan pass her lips, and arched her back, looking up at the ceiling.  Her breasts seemed to lift higher on her chest, and in the dimness Kyle could see little glittering spots of creamy white on each nipple.  Immediately his stomach growled. 
 
‘She’s your sister,’ he thought.  ‘Your sister!  She shrank you – she’s already gigantic, and she shrank you, and if you drink more of her milk you’re going to get even smaller!’
 
The only effect these thought had, to his dismay, was to make his stomach growl again, and to make his manhood ache for attention.
 
“That feels so nice Kyle,” Monica groaned.  Gently, she took his hand in hers – nearly enveloping him in her grasp – and drew his fingers inward to the place where her legs came together.  She brushed his hand against her soft, well-groomed pubic hair, making him stroke down her mons, over her inner thigh.  “Have you ever made a woman cum before little brother?”
 
“N-no.”  He felt his cheeks flare with blush, and a species of shame.  He had gone all the way with his last girlfriend several times, but the trick of coaxing her release had always eluded him.
 
Monica laughed.  “That’s okay!  Sweetie that’s okay, really!  Until just a minute ago, I’d never made a man cum.  But just relax, I’ll show you how, okay?”  She grinned, then leaned down to him, as if delivering a secret.  “If you do a good job, it’ll make me grow a lot more, Kyle.  Did you know that?”
 
He didn’t reply.  The room was too hot, the scent of her far too strong.
 
“You want that, don’t you?” she whispered.  “For me to grow a WHOLE lot?  So I can be even sexier for you?  So I can take even better care of you…so I can make you feel even better than before?”
 
“Yes,” he said, the word forced from his lips.  “Oh God, yes I do!”  His hand uncurled, his fingers pressing into her soft skin.  There was a plushing sense of wetness, a barely audible squelching sound. 
 
“Good boy,” Monica murmured in approval, the scent of her growing stronger still.  “Let me give you a reward.” 
 
Kyle looked up at her, unsure what she meant, when suddenly the weight of her body seemed to be rushing in upon him.  She was standing, thrusting herself forward with terrifying speed.  He opened his mouth to gasp, felt her hand catch his jaw, directing him to the place she wanted him.  Her tit was between his lips before he could understand what had happened, the thick, rich cream of her milk rolling over his tongue, tumbling down his throat.  He pulled away, but for a moment she held him fast.  Struggling against her was utterly useless.  By the time she released him he had swallowed two large mouthfuls of her milk.
 
“Now now, just a bit of big sis for you,” she teased, as the tingling sensation once more exploded through his body, and the world began to grow around him.  “Nothing to be afraid of silly boy!  I know how much you love it, how good it makes you feel.  How good it makes THIS part of you feel, too.”  Her hand already felt much larger as she took hold of his cock, stroking and massaging it as he shrank down before her.  He looked up into her eyes, open-mouthed, as his body dwindled away.  The part of him that knew this was wrong was screaming, but that seemed to becoming from far away – if it felt this good to shrink, it was impossible to see it as anything other than wonderful.
 
Abruptly she released his dick, and gave him a condescending little pat on the head.  “That’s enough for you, mister,” she scolded.  “It’s supposed to be MY turn to feel good.  So let me give my little man a lesson.”
 
She had never released his hand, and once more she began to draw it up and down the length of her womanhood.  “These,” she told him, making the tip of his finger press lightly against her.  “Are my lips.  Labia major and minor if you want to get technical. They’re fairly sensitive, and a good place to start, especially if the girl you’re with isn’t especially wet just yet.  As you can see….”  She made him stroke her from top to bottom several times, thrusting her hips gently against his finger.  “I am VERY wet – all because of you little brother – but it can still be good to tease me like that.  Try it.”
 
He was quite sure he was still shrinking.  His hand looked so much tinier against her than it had only moments before.  It was hard to guess, as he lightly stroked Monica’s lips and she moaned and gasped high above him, but he thought he might have already lost six more inches of height.
 
“Very good sweetie,” she cooed, wiping a trail of sweat from her brow.  “ESPECIALLY for a beginning.  So good that I’m tempted to give you another reward….”  Kyle flinched.  “…but why don’t we save that for later, hmm?  Now THIS….”  She grabbed him again, and moved his hand until his thumb pressed against a hard, protruding nub of flesh.  “Is my clit.  It’s very, VERY sensitive, as you can probably tell.”  Monica’s eyes were squeezed shut, and each word she spoke came with difficulty.  She made him brush against it several times, eliciting several loud, low moans.  “When a girl is as turned on as I am, sometimes all you have to do is touch her right here, and she’ll cum for you at once.”
 
She released him, and kissed the top of his head – something she could suddenly do with ease while still sitting.  “Sweetie, I want you to run your fingers against that part, as soft and as fast as you can.  The way I’m feeling, I won’t be able to last long if you do that.” 
 
Kyle obeyed, lowering himself until he could rest his elbow on the bed, with his palm against her inner thigh.  He positioned his two largest fingers against the little bulb, no bigger than the tip of his pinky.  He began to stroke it, slowly at first, then faster, and faster.  Monica chirped, gritting her teeth together.  Her fingernails dug deeply into the bedspread. 
 
“Oh God, Oh God…don’t stop…that’s it…ahh…ahhh!!!”  Monica threw back her head, letting out a feral moan of pleasure.  Kyle’s hand slackened, and immediately she grabbed it and pressed it back into herself.  “I said don’t stop!” she roared, continuing to howl with pleasure.  He could see the inner muscles of her womanhood twitching and spasming.  An even greater volume of her essence began to flow forth.  The smell of her…God, he would have done anything she asked.  After many seconds she finally released his hand, and he rubbed it, trying to bring the feeling back.
 
“Not bad little brother,” she said, still gasping for breath.  “You got me twice there, and it only took a few seconds.  That’s going to make me grow a LOT.”  She grinned at him.  Kyle could see that, yes, his sister was already rapidly getting larger.  Her head, only a few inches above his only moments ago, was climbing at an alarming pace.  Now his head was level with her nose…now her lips…now her chin.  Her feet spread wider and wider around his body.  Her breasts, however, seemed to be taking the lions share of her growth.  They had swelled a full cup size already, and each seemed the size and shape of a large, ripe cantaloupe.  A trail of white, creamy liquid flowed freely from each.
 
Again, his stomach growled.
 
“But we’re not done,” she drawled, in a voice noticeably deeper than before.  “I haven’t even give you the ADVANCED lesson yet, little brother.  You’ll have to join me on the bed for this one.”  The springs creaked in protest as his growing sister suddenly shifted her weight.  She moved until her head lay on the pillow, her long legs dangling over the edge of the bed, creeping further out with each passing second as she grew.  Like an obedient puppy Kyle followed her, grunting with effort as he hoisted himself onto the massive-seeming bed. 
 
Monica gave him a provocative grin, then hooked both her hands under the hollows of her knees.  She lifted her legs higher, and higher, until her toes dangled above her shoulders.  After a moment she shifted, catching both legs under the crook of one arm, and used her free hand to blow him a kiss. 
 
“Now then, where were we.  Okay sweetie.  Take two of your fingers and slide them inside me.”  She giggled as a sudden pulse of growth rushed through her, and her already titanic breasts pulsed outward.  “No, better make that three fingers.  Press up to your second knuckle, then do this.”  She made a beckoning, come-over-here gesture at him, curling her fingers inward.
 
He obeyed at once.  His sister’s pussy was warm and syrupy, and it seemed as if her inner muscles were squeezing him, welcoming him inside.  After a moment of fascination he did as instructed, and felt a hard expanse of rough flesh. 
 
“That’s my g-spot,” Monica moaned.  “You can p-press against it, or rub it really fast, or anything really.  I’d tell you to be gentle but – ah! – I don’t think you could hurt me right now if you tried.  It feels…ahhh so fucking good when you do that little brother.  Keep going…oh yes oh yes….mmm!  And…I’ve…I’ve got just one more thing to show you.”
 
She pointed between her legs, drawing her finger very low.  “Do you see this second hole, down here?” she groaned.  “That’s my anus.  Now, not all girls like this, and you BETTER be careful because as small as you are they’d knock you on your ass if you did it without permission.  I love it though…and it can make me cum so, so hard if I get touched there just right.  So okay cutie: I want you to take your smallest finger and VERY SLOWLY slide it inside.  Can you do that?”
 
He could.  Monica began to rock back and forth against him, doing all the work for him.  She ground herself against his immobile fingers, swelling larger with each thrust.  “Very good,” she groaned.  “Very very good.”  She began to massage her chest, pinching and rolling the big, thick nipples between thumb and forefinger.  Her milk began to flow at once.
 
The pace of her movements steadily increased.  Soon Kyle caught the rhythm, and began to match it with his movements.  Monica moaned her approval.  “You’re going to get such a reward after this,” she whimpered.  “Oh SUCH a reward.  Now, lick my clit.”
 
Kyle hesitated for the barest fraction of a second.
 
“I said lick my clit!” she cried.  “Do it Kyle!  God, I’m about to…hurry!”
 
Her taste was salty sweet, delicious, and as he lapped at her he could feel the little nub swelling larger and larger in his mouth.  “Fuck!  Oh fuck!  Don’t stop!  Argh!”  The pitch of her moans rose higher, and higher, finally reaching a crescendo note which she held, and held, and held. 
 
Somewhere in the chaos of her release she let go of her legs.  The weight of her came crashing down atop him, trapping him beneath her as she grew.  The scent was all around him, filling his lungs, defining his reality.  He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move.  Still she rocked against him, shrieking again and again.  Her cum splashed his face, ran down his cheeks.  Throughout it all, he did his utmost to keep his tongue swirling, to keep thrusting inside. 
 
The night air felt cool when she finally rolled off him.  She was gigantic, nearly twice his height.  Her legs hung off the queen-sized bed almost to her knees.  She smiled at him, petting him, telling him how good he had been as she continued to grow.

At some point during the summer, Monica had mounted the tape measure against the molding of the bedroom door.  Written in pencil along the wall were several marks, all of them dated.  Many were very close together, but Kyle could see the three large gaps where Monica had “cheated.”

The pencil looked frighteningly small in her hands as she made her newest mark – far, far above all those that had come before.  “Seven feet, ten inches,” she reported, her voice falling into a predatory growl as she spoke the words.  “Wow.  I never knew you had it in you, squirt.  Now come here, it’s your turn.”

Kyle didn’t move.  At this moment, the last thing he wanted was for hard numbers to bring the reality of his shrinking crashing in.

She gave him a pitying look.  Monica sank to her knees, beckoning to him like a frightened puppy.  “Come on now,” she called, in a babyish sing-song voice.  “Let big sis see how small she made her little man.  I promise I won’t make fun.  It’s okay…really sweetie, it’s okay!”

Her coaxing softened his fear, and warily he did as she asked.  Kyle crawled to the edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the floor beneath.  It was a long way down, but not so far as he had worried.  She took him by the shoulders, and directed him until he stood with his back against the wall.  “Now, stand up straight…oh, you are already.”  She giggled, and gave him a quick little kiss before he could object.  “Sorry, it was a slip.  No teasing, I promise.  Now…it looks like…you’re four feet…five inches tall.”

He gasped.  “God Monica, what have you done to me?  I can’t go out like this!  How am I going to go to school in the fall, and what are mom and dad going to say, and….”

A very large finger suddenly pressed into his mouth.  The finger was wet, and tasted sweet, and familiar.  A tiny moan of pleasure escaped his lips, and his head sank lower.  “I’m sorry, I misread,” Monica said.  “Looks like you’re four four.”

He looked up at her with wide eyes.  He whimpered. 

“Now then, I don’t want any of that,” Monica scolded, shaking her finger at him.  “I used to be MUCH shorter than you are, and I got along just fine.  All those silly little things you mentioned are none of your concern anymore.  Aren’t they Kyle?”

He watched her hand paint a slow path up her tummy, massage her nipple for a moment, come away with her fingers wet.  Kyle flinched as she lifted them to his lips, but only a little.  She held steady for a moment, then slowly slipped them into his mouth.  “Make that four three,” she whispered.

She kissed him.  The kiss went on, and on.  For a time he merely received, allowed his giantess sister to have her way with him.  Soon he found he was kissing her back.  The weight of her body pressed against him, holding him against the wall, but not trapping him.  It was more like being held, kept safe and secure. 

Her hand lazily slipped down his thigh, then took gentle hold of his cock.  She completely enveloping him now, his manhood utterly lost beneath her fingers.  Deliberately, she began to stroke.  “I haven’t been paying this little guy very much  attention, have I sweetie?  You’ve had SO much of my special milk, and I’ve only let you cum once!  That must be TORTURE!  Well, I’ll fix that right now.  Just relax Kyle…you know you can’t resist big sis…that’s it…that’s it…there.”

It was over in seconds.  His body went limp, his legs losing all their strength as he came, but he found that he didn’t need to exert any effort at all to hold himself up.  Monica had him.

She continued to stroke him for long moments after his orgasm ended.  He was hardly surprised when more wet fingers pressed past his lips.  He suckled eagerly.  “Four two,” she amended.  “You’re really getting tiny for me now Kyle, aren’t you?  But at least my milk has you growing someplace else.”  She tapped the head of his penis, once against fully hard, and giggled.  “You know, you’re pretty hung – for a midget.  Do you want to fuck me, Kyle?”

She crawled sinuously on hands and knees to the bed, gargantuan and beautiful, her breasts dangling nearly to the ground and swaying in time with her movements.  She let her chest lay across the bed, her knees still on the floor.  Monica spread her legs wide and looked back over her shoulder at him invitingly, her blonde hair tumbling into her eyes.  “Come on sweetie…I won’t hurt you.  I know I must look scary at this size.  I’ll hold still and let you do anything you want with me, okay?”

As if in a dream, Kyle moved to stand between her legs.  He ran his fingers over the vast, soft expanse of her backside, giving her a little pinch.  Monica squeaked, and laughed.  He positioned himself, finding that he actually had to bend slightly to press his manhood against her.  With a slight push, he slid inside. 

The two moaned together as Kyle began to slowly thrust into his sister.  Monica kept her word, holding perfectly still, gripping the comforter in clenched fists, eyes closed.  She was far too big for him.  The pitch of her groans belied the fact that he was too small to please her properly.  But this was for his benefit, and not hers – she wanted to give him joy with her body, in whatever way she could.

He felt himself drawing closer and closer to the edge.  His movements become forceful, almost frantic, thrusting against her in a way he never could have with a woman his own size.  Monica’s essence dripped over him, covering his balls, squelching against his thighs.  In a fit of erotic inspiration he stood up on tip-toe, pressing the head of his cock as hard as he could against the place Monica had identified as her g-spot.  She gasped with surprise, and moaned louder.  “Good boy!  Mmm good boy!” 

He came, and afterward clung to her body, gasping for breath.  Her womanhood was now half an inch higher than cock, and steadily rising.  He stared at this sight stupidly for a number of seconds, trying to make sense of it. 

She watched him over her shoulder, her expression full of absolute adoration.  “You made me cum, Kyle!” she explained, her voice soft and sleepy.  “What a good job you did!  I didn’t think a little guy like you had any chance – not with such a teensy cock.  You really are quite a wonder.”  Monica sat up, pulling him out of her, then turned.  Even on her knees, she utterly dwarfed him now.  His head barely crested the level of breasts.

“I’m glad you got to feel what that was like – to fuck me like a big boy.  I’m sorry to say it’s the last time though – but you’ll be getting something so, SO much better.  You did SUCH a good job…and you deserve a very, VERY big reward.  By the time I’m done you’ll be so tiny…so perfectly tiny, just the right size for me to protect, and cherish, and love.”

“No,” he said, the sound utterly without force.

“Ah ah, don’t argue with me cutie,” she scolded.  Monica suddenly grabbed him underneath the arms, and without any apparent effort hoisted him up onto the bed, made him sit on its edge, his feet dangling more than a foot above the floor.  “I think you don’t mind at all, being small, and helpless, and mine.  Ooh, look at that!” she let out a girlish laugh as his dick gave a sudden twitch.  Her eyes narrowed.  “Kyle,” she said, in a dark, sensual tone.  “I’m going to shrink you.”  His cock pulsed happily.  “You’re going to get smaller….”  Twitch.  “…and smaller….”  Twitch.  “…and SMALLER.”  She laughed again.  “Now after that, can you REALLY tell me that this isn’t what you want, Kyle-y-poo?”

She waited many seconds for his reply.  None came.  “Good boy,” she whispered.

Her lips came down slowly, parted for him, swallowing his cock from tip to base.  Kyle screamed, his hands sinking into Monica’s hair.  He tried to resist.  Rather, he tried to try.  As her tongue swirled around his head he thrust inside her, calling her name, imagining what she was soon to do to him.  As he came, he knew it was what he wanted after all.  There were tears in his eyes, and yet he was smiling.

She made careful to swallow every last drop of him, and carefully licked him clean.  “Are you ready little brother?” she asked.

He looked around the bedroom, taking in its shapes, its distances, its sizes.  He did his best to burn it into his memory, to never forget what it looked like, the last time he would ever be this large.  He nodded.

She eased him onto his back with a slow, gentle motion, her eyes never leaving his.  The love on her face was an expression he’d known his entire life.  She turned him carefully, rotating him until his feet faced the head of the bed.  Her divine figure lifted up before him, laying herself across the bed, resting with her chest level with his lips.  Long, dark rivulets of milk ran, a stream without end.  She leaned in, dangling one large, fat tit just above his lips.

“Drink sweetie,” she offered.  “And be mine.”

He obeyed.  He raised himself until he could catch her between his lips, moving with sure, calm eagerness. 

He shrank.

She spoke to him as he drank from her, gently stroking his dwindling cock with the tip of her finger.  “That’s it.  That’s my good little Kyle.  Mmm, big sister Monica tastes so good, doesn’t she?  Now, there’s no reason to be afraid…no reason ever again.  The whole world is going to be so, so big from now on, and you’re going to be tiny, and weak, and helpless.  But you know I’ll always be here for you.  Always.  Any time you’re scared in the night, any time you have a bad dream.  Any time you want me to rub your back, or touch that cute little cock of yours.  I’ll be there.  Oh you’re doing SO good!  Drink for me, shrink for me little Kyle-y!”

It was impossible to tell how small he was through the delirium haze of pleasure.  He might’ve guessed three feet in the moment before his sister lowered herself on top of him, burying him in darkness beneath her chest.  He felt her leaning further, her muscles bunching and flexing against him, and her mouth once more closed over his length. 

Kyle came at once, but Monica seemed not to notice.  He continued to drink eagerly, as the weight of his sister increased on top of him.  He came again, and again, and again.  He lost track of time.  Still she flowed for him, and still he drank.  Eventually, he was too small for her to feed him and reach his cock with her mouth at the same time.  When she apologized for this, her giggle was a deep rumble, the sound of thunder.  She used her smallest finger instead.  By now, it was far bigger and thicker than his length.  Big enough that he was lost beneath it.

He drank, and came, and listened to his sister tell him everything would be perfect forever now.  He knew she was right.  In the morning, he was smaller.