The alarm clock blared, and Greg mumbled a minced oath.
The better part of a week he'd been shrunk, and he still wasn't getting used to the noise. Alarm clocks that would've been merely annoying became cacophonous mountains of decibels. Speech drifted by like distant thunderor occasionally, like the roar of a 747.
The world of the small was a loud world.
Greg was almost glad for the sound of a building fallingJulia was hitting the snooze alarm.
That would give him a chance to hitch a ride.
Greg's reasoning was sound. He knew that the women he'd been hitching a ride with yesterday were the ones he'd been with at the airport, and he knew that they were certain to go back to the airport at some point. That meant that they were a sure ticket to a chance at a trip to Vegas. If he didn't get back to them, well...he knew that there was always a chance, but the odds got considerably longer.
But he'd been paying attention to what was going on around him; there was a wedding today, and that meant that his late hostesses would be leaving soon, probably tomorrow. And he knew that if this girl was at the reception last night, she'd be at the wedding today.
So he had to go with her; it was his best chance.
How to go with her, well...that was a more difficult problem to solve.
Eventually, she got up and headed into the hallway, radiant in a simple t-shirt. He surveyed the room, trying to find the best place to be when she was getting ready. After a while, he finally hit upon it: the bed.
He began to climb up the blankets which were still cockeyed from last night's events. He may have been small, but he'd learned that he was strong and durable at this size, and he found himself ascending rapidly toward the mesa above.
He paused for a minute at the top. His stomach was rumbling. Well, of courseit had been a good thirty-six hours since he'd eaten. He'd need to get some food into him at some point. He couldn't keep up like this forever.
By the time the girl finally returned, Greg had thrown himself onto the disheveled sheets. This was still not easy terrain; each ripple in the fabric was a steep hill. But he felt good about where he was, and not just because he had a great view of a girl fresh out of the shower, wearing only a towelthat she quickly dropped.
Greg had seen his share of beautiful womenhe was a billionaire playboy. He pretty much had his pick. But this girl was phenomenally attractive even by his standards.
For a few moments, he considered just staying here with her. But the thought quickly passed.
Instead, his heart leapt as she began to aimlessly toss clothes onto the bedwith a blouse landing just feet from him.
Finally, something was going right.
Just a few moments, and he'd reached his destination. It wasn't even that bad when she donned the smock. A few minutes later he rode out into the world in comfort, in the left breast pocket on the girl's blouse. He lay back and felt the steady undulation of her breasts and let himself be rocked to sleep.
* * *
He awoke to the unmistakable scent of cinnamon rolls.
He yawned, and stretched, and checked his watch. 10:50 in the morning. He wondered what was going on as he listened to the sound of women talking and laughing.
His stomach was urging him to leave the safety of the pocket and go find food. His brain tried to advance some arguments about security and prudence, and other body parts chimed in about the nice feel of the girl's tit through her shirt. But his stomach was demanding enough that everyone else agreed to at least take a look at the situation.
Carefully, he climbed up to the top of the pocket and peered out. They were in a beauty salon, it appeared. He could see a couple older women sporting fancy hairdos, and another woman seated in a chairand then, to his surprise, he saw the woman whose bra he had hitched a ride in the night before.
"All right!" he shouted. He'd been right about hitching a ridehe'd found the woman sooner than he'd expected. Now, how to get to...hey, cinnamon rolls!
He could see them, a box of eight with five of them missing, and one of them sitting right by it about half-gone. The roll itself was the size of a small office buildingplenty for him to share.
He just had to slide down this girl's arm, which was resting on the table.
Well, his former hostess was around. He had time to eat.
He moved quickly, and scampered down the arm, almost to her elbow before she moved abruptly, causing him to lose his grip and fall.
The world spun dizzily as he saw the roll approaching. Cringing, he hit the icing and slid for a bit before he halted.
He was surprised to still be alive, but he was. Indeed, he saw after a moment that he'd slid into a gap in the roll between one layer and the next. He was in a tiny, cinnamon-filled crevasse, with just a bit of light streaming in from above.
And suddenly, the world lurched as the roll was lifted.
* * *
"So you're gonna finish that roll after all, Jen?"
The bride smiled as she used a fork to break a piece of roll off. "I probably better. I don't think I'll get any more food until the reception."
"I thought you said you couldn't eat any more?" asked Julia, teasing her big sister.
"Well...it's pretty darn good. Besides, I've gotta do something before I get my hair done."
She cut off another piece of roll and ate it. It wasn't easy staying calm on her wedding day. But she was doing as well as a bride could.
* * *
The walls of the crevasse deformed and shifted as the unseen consumer sliced pieces off of the doughy mountain. And Greg knew that he had to get out while the getting was good.
But first, as he ascended, he pulled handfuls of dough from the walls and ate them quickly. He had to get something into his system. And then he had to escape.
Suddenly, the wall split in two, and a massive white fence bisected his piece. He tumbled a bit as it was lifted into the air, and just got a quick view of a pretty young woman. She was maybe fifteen poundsa few tons from his perspectiveoverweight, but those pounds were distributed perfectly to make her deliciously alluring. He caught a glimpse of brown hair and a gorgeous smile that was rapidly approaching.
He swallowed hard, and as the lips approached, he jumped.
* * *
If Jenny felt the tiny man hit her breasts she didn't mention it. Instead, she polished off her roll and sat down in the chair to have her hair done for the wedding.
She looked good. She looked ready.
And she was really, really looking forward to the honeymoon.
* * *
The next few hours were tough on Greg.
A bride wears a number of different layers of garments. Jenny was no exception. He was currently on the underside of her left breast, held firmly in place by a push-up corset that was accentuating her cleavage and minimizing her stomach and pushing a half-inch-tall man into her flesh with reckless abandon.
He had made some progress back toward her nipple, which was his present goal. He hoped that there would be a little more space there, at least more room to breathe.
At least he wasn't hungry anymore.
And he did feel happy for the girl as he listened to her heart quicken as what sounded like vows drifted into his world.
He just wished she hadn't felt the need to show of her bust quite so much.
Her breasts were quite big enough.
* * *
Jenny sat at the head table, radiant as she'd ever been. She was totally happy with the day so far, and the only downside had been that the corset occasionally tickled her left breast. She'd whispered that to Pat, and her husbandher Husband!had whispered back, "No fair. I thought I'd be the first one to tickle my wife's breasts!" She'd blushed, just a bit. And reminded herself to let Pat fondle her to his heart's content later.
After a while, she couldn't take it anymore, and went to the bathroom to adjust the corset. Julia helped her unfasten it and refasten it, and that seemed to cure the problem. She went back into the reception hall deliriously in love.
Greg, for his part, had been surprised when the area he was in bent over and opened up. He fell out the front of the bride's dress and skidded through a maze of beads and satin, before he hit a slide that deposited him directly on the floor of a women's bathroom.
He was too dazed to chase after the bride and her maid of honor as they left the room. He knew he had to get back out into the hall, and quickly. He had a couple of women to track down.
Suddenly, he heard the electronic tone chirp. "Great," he muttered, as the countdown began.
* * *
It was a nice wedding, but Andrea had to admit it made her a bit sad.
It hadn't been that long ago that she'd been a blushing bride, happy and in loveor so she thought.
But her husband had turned out to be a lout, and in his infidelity had driven her to a point where she didn't really trust men, or like them much.
Of course, it was lonely. But it was his legacy.
She entered the bathroom to freshen up, and truth be told, just to get away from the crowd for a moment. She needed a break, to shed a few silent tears before she went back out into the crowd.
She was checking her mascara when she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. It was tinymaybe a mouse. A different woman might have been frightened out of her wits, but Andrea was made of strong stuff. She looked down.
She saw the figure cowering by the trash can. She approached slowly, so as not to spook the creature. It was maybe four inches in length, and as she drew closer she could see that it wasn't a mouse.
It took her a few seconds for it to register just what it was she was seeing. A different person might have fainted.
But Andrea was made of strong stuff.
She didn't speak to the creature. She simply swept him up and placed him in her purse.
She just had to show him to Heather.
* * *
Greg was frightened about what lay ahead. He was titanic compared with a few minutes agohe'd grown twenty-fold. But he was still tiny compared to the woman who held him captive. And while he was somewhat glad to have found his way to his goal, he was not sure he could trust this woman to help him.
Still, he had little choice. The purse was shut solidly, and even if he could escape, he didn't know where he'd escape to. He just had to sit tight as the music assaulted his chamber, and he considered his options.
After a little while, they were back on the march. And then, they stopped, and suddenly, the purse was opened.
* * *
"I found him on the floor of the women's restroom," said Andrea, as she removed the tiny man from her bag.
"Oh my God," said Heather, quietly.
She looked at the tiny man in her friend's hand and studied him closely. He was actually pretty good looking for a Liliputian.
"Do you understand us?" she asked the tiny creature.
"yes, i do," he said, softly and at the edge of her hearing.
"What should we do with him?" asked Heather.
"if you could take me to...." he was answering, but Andrea was paying him no mind.
"I don't know. We could get rich. We could sell him to the government or something."
Greg blanched. He prepared himself to hit the recall button.
"No, Andrea, that wouldn't be right." Heather looked down at the tiny man. "Think of what they'd do to him."
"He's a man, Heather, who cares?"
"Bitter much?"
Andrea looked at her friend, and sighed. "No, you're right. I don't want him to get killed. But...I mean, he's a tiny man. There has to be some reason I found him. Stuff like this just doesn't happen without a reason."
Heather smiled, and said, "There's my girl. Now, I bet he's hungry, and I am toothe rubber chicken was terrible. Let's order some room service and finish off the Jack Daniels I bought, and we'll talk this thing through.
* * *
Greg found he liked both women a lot, especially after they started to get a bit tipsy.
Oh, they weren't listening much to him, but he didn't mind. Watching two progressively-more-drunk twenty-seven-year-olds talking and laughing about their college exploits was as entertaining as Hell. And besides, they'd fed him, and they'd agreed to take him to the airportat least, it seemed like they had.
They were both laying on their stomachs on the bed, with Greg between them. He couldn't help but notice the curves on both of them, and the beauty of the two women.
"Y'know Heath'r, the worst part about getting divorced is that you don't have anyone to cuddle with."
Heather chuckled. "I know what you mean. I wouldn't mind getting a little action. You know, meaningless sex and stuff."
Suddenly, a look came over her face. "Dre, do you remember that night after the Chi O party?"
Andrea looked shocked. "Is that 'never speaking of this again?'"
"I was the one who said to. Besides, we were both pretty drunk."
Andrea sat back, a bit more sober now. "I'm still sorry about that, Heather. I mean, I don't know what I was trying to do."
"You were trying to get me into bed. And it almost worked."
The room was silent. Greg was trying to blend into the woodwork now. He didn't want to interrupt this conversationindeed, he was able to stay quiet effectively by thinking of these two after the Chi O party. And thinking about it some more.
After an interminable time, Andrea said, "I thought you said you just would never do it with a girl."
"I wouldn'tbut if there'd been a guy there, I would've jumped your bones in a second. I justwell, technically, I wouldn't have beenI mean...."
"I know what you mean, Heather."
"But I don't want you to think I didn't consider it, Dre. I just wasn't ready."
There was a little silence, before Andrea said something that surprised both her present roommates.
"But I was thinking...you know, there's a guy here right now."
Andrea boggled, just a bit, and then, slowly, a wary smile began to cross her face. "Are you saying...."
"Well, if we play with him a bit, then technically...."
Andrea smiled wider. "Yeah, technically it's just a menage a trois. Right?"
"So, should we ask the little guy?"
"Oh," said Andrea, reaching for Greg, "I don't think he's going to take any convincing."
Andrea was absolutely right about that.
She picked him up in her right hand as her friend stood up. Andrea approached Heather, and in an instant their lips locked together in the continuation of a kiss that had been prematurely broken eight years before. Greg tried to call out a warning as Andrea's hand caressed Heather's backside, then thought better of it.
He was, at that moment, willing to help these women out however he could.
There was a sudden rush of activity as the two were fumbling to disrobe each other. "Here, I just need to..." said Andrea, as she tucked Greg into the valley of her friend's decolletage. Then she pressed herself against Heather and unzipped her, pulling the dress off and onto the floor.
And then they were leaning back onto the bed, kissing all the more passionately now. They tumbled and rolled as they felt each other up and good. Greg felt like he might burst a few times, but it would be an exceedingly pleasant way to go.
"Now, would you like me to make you feel good?" purred Andrea into Heather's ear.
"Yes...but I think you should get something out of the deal too," said Andrea, as she lifted the little man from her breasts and placed him somewhere else.
Greg was startled to see himself placed inside Andrea's panties, but he knew immediately what he was being asked to do. Her pussy was already sopping wet from her actions with her friend. It was easy for him to slide up against it, and rub it softly. After a few moments, he shrugged, and decided to see what it would be like inside. And so as Andrea licked her friend, Greg pushed himself inside her, causing his hostess to gasp with pleasure.
"The little man is making himself useful," she said as she began to lick her friend's pussy. Andrea knew herself well enough to know he couldn't make her come without working on her clit. That was fine with her; he felt very good in there, but not so good that he'd effect her work here. She'd only been with another woman one other time, and they hadn't gotten this far.
On the other hand, she owned one of these things, and she had a pretty good idea of how to make them work.
After a few minutes, Heather realized that Andrea knew what she was doing too. To her great delight.
As for Greg, it was blazing hot, and it was like a boiling showerhead was pouring down on him. But he couldn't stop himself from sliding back and forth, simulating a smallish penis for his largeish hostess. He hoped he was doing well by her, but she hadn't stopped him yet, so he kept it up.
After a while, Heather had finished and Andrea lay back, moaning with pleasure. "Wouldyou mind" she asked her friend.
"What?"
"Helping mefinish?"
Heather smiled weakly. "Oh, I owe you Andrea. Do you want me to use my tongue? Or my finger? I'm pretty good with the finger."
"Fingershould do."
Andrea slid her panties down, and her friend chuckled as she saw the tiny pair of feet sticking out between her lips. Heather slowly, lightly touched Andrea's clit, and just moments later, Andrea was coming.
The walls suddenly squeezed Greg on all sides. He felt for a moment like he would burst, and then came the spasmodic earthquake of Andrea's orgasm. He, himself had climaxed a while before, but he was happy he could be of help.
As she relaxed, he felt himself slide out of the gap and into the area between Andrea's thighs. He looked up to see two enormous women smiling down on him. "Little man," gasped Andrea, "thank you."
After a while, the three of them started up again, this time, with him in Heather's pussy.
* * *
The three lovers drifted off to sleep, all of them happy. Heather had enjoyed things enough for her to whisper to her friend, "You know, Dre? I don't care what I am. I love you." Andrea had taken those words to heart, because deep down, despite the loss of her ex-husband and the hurt it had caused, she'd always known what she was.
And Greg? He was smiling because after the second time, the women had actually been tired out and spent enough to listen to him. And when he told them he wanted to get to Las Vegas, they'd been more than helpful.
"Jenny and Pat are going there for their honeymoon! We're driving them to the airport tomorrow at 2!" said Heather. "The least we can do is send you with them."
"They'll never take a little man alongnot even as the great marital aid he'd be."
"It's okay," Heather had said. "We'll stow him in their stuff. We'll put him with the gift we're sneaking along anyhow."
And so Greg smiled because tomorrow, he would be in Las Vegas. The plan was foolproof.
What could go wrong?
Giantess World
