Giantess World
“Lovely, it seems I did answer all your questions to satisfaction before you even had to ask them, so none of you has a follow-up? I know, considerate of me,” Angelina laughed. She leaned back to her full stature again, giving her neckline a tug that failed, probably deliberately, to re-sheath her pale, jiggly melons while they struggled to tumble out of the gown.
Given the surreal circumstances, the four couldn’t help but shift their focus away from Angelina’s crimson-painted lips spouting insanity, and instead got lost in the hypnotic jumble of those twin cans practically vibrating together, dotted with freckles and ghostly veins, whenever the woman laughed. It simultaneously occurred to all four people, in bizarre fashion, that Angelina’s breasts, already large when they’d first met her and now more spacious than ever, were fully capable of quashing them to death if the woman was to lean over the table just a bit further and then peel back the black folds of her dress. Even one boob would be sufficient. Plop. They’d be paralyzed beneath its heft, if not dead altogether. She could probably even fit several of them under a single breast. After the woman’s creepily nonchalant talk of killing three of them, if indeed this still wasn’t some sick joke, it was hard to keep that thought from entering the mind.
“Hello, you four? Eyes up here?” Angelina chuckled, snapping her fingers to regain their attention. “I can’t blame you all necessarily, of course. The new and improved formula for the… substance I’ll be using to shrink you even further now contains a fun little chemical cocktail that will make you subtly, or perhaps unsubtly, yearn to acquire even more of what made you dwindle. But enough idle talk. I’m just teasing you, when instead we could be starting the fun. And I have so much fun planned. So, first things first. I’ve got some pressing questions to ask each of you. You each have until the end of these questions to become sexually aroused. Whoever gives the best answer will not have to shrink again at the end of this round and, if needed, whoever gets the most aroused will break the tie. Crystal-clear, everyone?”
Since the four were still grappling with the fact that they’d been shrunk, let alone that their lives might soon end and they were about to participate in a depraved Q&A to keep their already-diminished size, the dam broke at once. The four started squabbling and screeching anew, yelling at one another and especially at Angelina. Their voices criss-crossed into a din that sounded to Angelina more like tittering Chihuahuas now that they were so small, though she decided she still preferred them like this.
“Silence NOW,” Angelina coldly spat, “or not ONE of you will leave this house alive.”
Clapping her hands with thunderous aplomb that instantly silenced the four hysterical boardsters, along with the threat itself, the woman planted her hands on her narrow hips and stuck up her chin, in the process spotlighting her apparently magnetic cleavage again. Bathed in muggy candlelight, her half-exposed mega-tits glistened almost as brightly as her dress.
“That’s better,” she said with a smirk. “Let’s start things off with you, John, shall we?”
“What do you want?” the modelesque man grumbled, fidgeting in his seat. He watched Angelina pick up her wine glass again and proceed to take long pulls from it around the straw while reaching for him with her free hand. No amount of leaning could protect him from those sharp nails, but rather than scratch him as her clawed hand suggested, she merely grazed them harmlessly down his front, then burrowed her fingernail into his beltline, promptly ripping straight through the slack fabric.
“Well, first I want to get your shrunken cock out in the open, so I can judge how aroused you are. Obviously,” Angelina said. Having ravaged his pants, and successfully got the man’s member in view despite his wriggling, she let her index finger’s tip hover just over it, tapping the head with an intimidating nail. “Not at all so far. And you’re supposed to be the most lascivious of this group. Oh well, it just keeps things fair. Tell me now, John, why do you think you’re here?”
“Because we didn’t let you snake your way into controlling the company!” he snarled, showing youthful bravado. “We didn’t become corporate bitches like you wanted!”
“Hmm, yes, that’s why the four of you are here, but what about you, specifically?” Angelina pressed. Her finger tapped his dick, firm but not painfully, causing him to flinch, while she took another long sip from her glass. Upon setting the wine down again, she took hold of her dress’s neckline again, peeling it ever so slightly back, revealing even more of her bulky tit, where the skin was palest and almost translucently white, coming within an inch of letting her areola peek over the silky horizon.
“I have no fucking idea!” he shouted back, wrenching his hips uselessly in the chair; no matter which way he shifted, Angelina’s finger followed his tiny cock, and gradually began to flip it back and forth across the tip of her digit like a mechanical on/off switch. “Stop DOING that! What, you think all you have to do is touch me and do a strip-tease with those saggy meatbags you call boobs? You think I’m that desperate for some old witch like you?”
“Oooh, good news for the other three of you! John here doesn’t seem to want to play along!” Angelina announced. She shrugged, then gave his member a harder flick with her pinky finger that, judging by the full-body flinch it earned from her shrunken target, caused far more discomfort than pleasure. “In case any of you were wondering the real answer, it’s because John here thinks he’s too much a big man to ever be the one not on top, no matter the circumstances. And it’s about time he was taken down a peg. No more big man. Monica, you’re next up! Why do you think you’re here?”
Angelina circled to the next compass-direction side of the table, where the sole female member of the senior board circle waited. The tiny woman, who ordinarily wore a mask of utter confidence and even sniveling disdain, was losing her composure, trembling in her chair. A look of horror crossed her face when the giantess now reached for her, inserting her large fingertip directly into Monica’s shirt and batting her shrunken tits back and forth.
“P-Please, Angelina. Don’t do this. Just make us big again, and we’ll forget any of this h-happened.” The woman gulped, her voice entering a strange vibrato while Angelina’s toying with her breasts automatically stammered her tone. Meanwhile the dark-haired titaness herself continued untucking the folds of her dress, even giving her blatantly hardened nipple, pinkish-brown and riddled with goose bumps, a chance to poke out before going undercover again. When Angelina pulled up on her neckline, letting her tit saddle back into the cloth, all four of her audience watched the rocky weight of it sifting into place again by the relentless tug of gravity.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that whichever one of you is lucky enough to leave here tonight alive will forget any of this happened. It won’t matter for the other three, because they’ll all either be dead, or so tiny as for their existence to count for less than nothing anyway.” Angelina’s molesting finger, wedged between Monica’s cleavage, kept on making them bounce like toy bobblehead tops, but also snaked her digit deeper into the blouse, tauntingly clawing her fingernail along the woman’s waistline. “By the way, Monica, I’m offering you a little extra help here, since as far as I know, you’re straight as an arrow, so you’ll need all the stimulation you can get. Just try to focus on how this feels, and how much better I am without even trying than that saltine cracker of a husband of yours.”
“All right… t-then, if you have to… please, I have two kids… let me go, and do what you… have to with the others,” Monica said with apparent remorse, even tearing up.