“So, how’d your tutoring session go?” Heather asked incredulously from her seat, head resting on her arm. There were still a few minutes before the start of class, and the heiress decided to bring up the topic that Michelle was too anxious to. The other woman scrolled through her feed, her smartphone dwarfing the tiny seated beside it, but her real focus lied on him and his response.
“Huh? Oh yeah, it was very… educational.” Javi scratched at the back of his head, optimistic that he could disarm the glare Heather pointed his way.
“Uh-huh,” she snarked, glare unphased. “I'm sure you must be a real expert on Women’s Studies now, a diehard feminist through and through. Care to share any of that knowledge with me, Smalls?”
“Hold up,” Michelle interjected, slamming her left arm down to form a barricade between the tiny and the other woman. “If anyone is getting a piece of that… knowledge, it should be me. I have a lower grade than you, and I've known Javi for a lot longer.”
“What does-?” Before Heather could finish her retort, Shawna sat down in the seat in front of Javi and Michelle, her partially unbuttoned shirt displaying as tantalizing a view as ever. It took every fiber of Heather’s restraint not to let out an ear-splitting groan.
“Hello, Javier. Do you feel like you have a better grasp on the material after our little excursion?” Shawna managed to keep a straight face as she focused on her tiny friend, though the mocking gestures appearing in the corner of her eye kept begging for her attention. Michelle’s chortling didn't help, laughing at the heiress cupping her breasts and pouting demurely in poor imitation, but the TA wasn't going to let base insults from the jealous bunch derail her. “I believe it will do us some good to get another session in after class today to make sure my exercises are really sticking.”
“Hey, what about me?” Heather interrupted, finally getting the scowl she was looking for. “You ever gonna ‘tutor’ anyone else, or does pretty boy here only get your honest attention.”
“My office hours are on the syllabus, Miss Suzuran,” Shawna growled. “If you need assistance, which in my professional opinion you don't, then you see me then. Now if you excuse me, I'd like to get back to a student that will actually benefit from my time.”
“Psh, sure.” Heather checked her backpack leaning against the wall behind her, skateboard strapped securely to it. She sat in the back corner of the room, a door leading outside just a few feet to her left. Today, they were going over the next chapter of the textbook, nothing important and nothing not worth missing. The sound of the second hand on the classroom’s clock echoed in the young lady’s ears, a dull death toll of the fifty minutes of monotony that awaited her. Out of nowhere, a random memory flashed in Heather’s mind. Along with her best friend Alena, Heather had attended a private, all girls, all bigs high school, and had comparatively little experience interacting with tinies than her public-school peers. Still, state standards required all students get formal training in cross-size relations, and one lesson Heather remembered was how to pick up and carry a two-inch tall person. Lay your palm flat on the floor and let them climb on themselves before slowly lifting them to chest or face level. Never pinch, pluck, squeeze, or grab a smaller individual, nor hoist them at moderate to high speeds. It made sense to her at the time, respecting a tiny's autonomy and not invading their personal space. But all rules are meant to be broken once in a while.
Heather lunged over Michelle's arm, snatching Javi between her fingers and ripping him out of his miniature desk. While the others were still processing, she grabbed her bag and booked it out of the classroom, her puny friend trapped within her closed fist.
“Hey! Wait!” Shawna leapt out from her seat and tried to give chase, but a row of desks blocked her way. By the time she squeezed through them, the 6’7” skater was already sprinting through the hallway.
“Miss Everhart, where do you think you're going?” The professor called out, stopping the TA in her tracks. “Class is about to start.”
“That haughty bitch!” Shawna cursed under her breath.
Heather ran through the hall towards the spiral staircase leading to the first floor, keeping watch of where she stepped to make sure there weren't any unfortunate passersby in her path. Upon reaching the stairs, she hopped onto the railing and slid down to the ground floor, getting off and rushing outside. She burst through a revolving door and darted out onto the pavilion.
“You there! No running on campus!” A security guard belted out.
“My bad!” Heather slowed her pace to a swift trot, maneuvering around her fellows as she cornered the college building and made for the street. All the while, Javi remained sealed in her closed palm. Admittedly, it wasn't as comfortable as riding in Shawna's cleavage. The rich girl's palm reeked of a grimy, rubbery odor, likely from changing the wheels on her skateboard. Javi could feel Heather’s pulse race through her fingers, the gaps between giving him enough air to breathe.
Once she got to the road, Heather pulled out her board and dropped it onto the asphalt, skating off towards her apartment. With a bit of wriggling, Javi slipped through the open end of her fist. “You should be more careful,” he jested, rising with her hand to face her. “The fines for kidnapping a tiny are very expensive.”
“Ha! I probably spent more on breakfast.” Wind blew through the woman’s hair as she drifted along the city streets. If Javi wasn’t firmly situated in Heather’s grip, the torrential breeze would have sent him flying. “Sorry about the snatch and grab. Hope you weren’t looking forward to today’s lecture.”
“I was more looking forward to a nice nap.” Javi had to shout to project over the rushing wind and ambient city soundtrack. “It’a been nice if you grabbed my bag too though.”
“I was in a hurry! Michelle will look after it, just get it from her later.” Heather cruised through the street, straying from the bike lane to intermingle with backed up traffic. Weaving through the road, she had half a mind to trick off the congested cars, but figured it best to avoid nauseating another tiny.
“Where we headed?” Javi asked, only slightly worried about being dropped in the middle of the street.
“My place. Figure we’d have our own ‘study sesh’ with no stuck-up TAs butting in.” To Heather’s delight, her captive raised no protest as she swerved through the concrete jungle.
…
Heather burst into the luxury hotel lobby, her bicolor hair, baggy pants, and worn-out brand-name sneakers clashing with the guests dressed in fanciful attire and the ostentatious opulence of the hotel itself.
“Welcome home, my lady,” Julius, Heather's chauffeur and butler, greeted. Heather pressed down on Javi's head with her thumb, concealing him within her fist. “You have returned early today.”
“Independent study.” Heather rushed past the distinguished gentleman and into her private elevator.
“Then I wish you the best on your studies. Do remember that you must maintain a 4.0 GPA as per your father's terms for…”
“Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine.” The doors closed, separating the lady from her butler and taking her to her suite.
“You could have at least introduced me to your little friend,” Julius muttered, returning to his station. “Ah, the splendor of youth.”
Now that they were finally alone, Heather opened her palm, letting Javi stand and stretch. Watching the tiny tug and bend his meager limbs, Heather noticed how damp he had become enshrouded by her clammy skin. She patted her pockets for a tissue or handkerchief but found herself dry out.
“What was that about your GPA?” Javi asked. Standing on a hand in an elevator unnerved him, feeling the pressure affect both his body and Heather's.
“Nothing worth worrying over.” Heather leaned back on the elevator wall, letting the vibrations course through her back as they ascended. “I get to remain independent so long as I'm Daddy's perfect angel. If my grades slip or I get into trouble, then I'll be wisped off to Japan to join the rest of the family, continue my studies there, and become a ‘proper’ heir to the Suzuran name.”
“Sounds rough.” Javi imagined Heather's father as a powerful yakuza boss with a cutoff pinky and a designer suit draped over his shoulders, surrounded by fearsome tattooed gangsters brandishing katanas.
“Not really. My dad acts strict to keep up appearances. My mom has always insisted I grow up in America with a normal life like she had, and Dad would cross the Pacific in a makeshift raft before crossing her.” The image in Javi's head morphed into Papa Suzuran kneeling before and kissing the hand of Heather's mom, the woman seated in a elegantly upholstered leather throne with a designer blazer draped over her shoulders, surrounded by fearsome tattooed gangsters brandishing katanas. “Those are my only real stipulations. I can do whatever I want, spend however much I want, and ‘associate’ with whomever I so please. So yeah, if a tabloid wants to print a hit piece on a certain scion paying a hefty fine for kidnapping an up-and-coming basketball star, then it's no skin off my back.”
The elevator continued rising, alongside Javi's anticipation, for what felt like forever. “I've never been in a penthouse before,” he admitted.
“That so? Glad I could be your first. Once you go pro, you’ll be staying in them all the time.” The doors finally opened to the sprawling oasis at the top of the tower. Between the glass encased waterfall, fully equipped bar and kitchen, the outdoor helipad and swimming pool, and the entire unseen second floor, the whole suite fought for Javi’s attention. Heather strolled through her place of residence, dropping her bag at the foot of the white silk sofa, and headed towards the bar. She placed Javi on the black marble countertop and circled around to the other side. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.” Javi started at the aluminum silos slammed down in front of him. Imperial stouts, each with an ABV of twelve percent. The cans’ labels were as black as the pit forming in the tiny’s stomach.
“Want to see a trick?” Heather ducked behind the counter and grabbed a pen. Standing back up, she lifted one of the cans in the air like it was nothing and stabbed a hole in the bottom. Quickly popping the tab, the woman held the can over her mouth, letting sixteen fluid ounces of beer stream smoothly down her gullet in one continuous gulp. After chugging it all down, she let out a reeling sigh and slammed the empty can before her applauding audience. “That’s nothing. You should see me do it while smoking a cigarette.”
“Mind if I try?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.” Heather leaned forward and rested her chin on the counter’s edge, sticking her tongue out to form a slobbery ramp. “Together?”
Javi stepped forward, turned around, and fell backwards onto the wet, living mattress. Heather scooped him up and held him flat outside her mouth as she tilted her head back and poked a hole in the other can. A waterfall of beer cascaded into her mouth, crashing into Javi’s face and dripping down to her throat. Very little alcohol actually made it into the tiny’s mouth, most of it splashing against his face and chest, but it wasn’t long before his gut was filled with stout. He only made it four ounces in before having to lurch forward, scooting towards the tip of the tongue to catch his breath and keep from drowning. The booze he did swallow was already inebriating him, a dizzy feeling racking his brain as the corners of his vision faded and blurred.
After finishing the rest of the can, Heather plucked Javi off her tongue and sat him on the counter. She was about to say something, then hiccupped, tried again, and then belched, instead clutching her forehead. Javi, soaked in beer, took off his shirt and shorts, giving the tipsy woman behind him an appetizing view.
“Want to lie down?” she asked. With a slur sloshing her tone, it was difficult to parse whether that was an open offer or a statement of intent. “Get all comfy cozy for our hyper-intense, no-holds-barred study sesh?” She flattened her hand against the counter, letting her guest clamber on. His skin was sticky, coated in a fine concoction of beer, spit, and sweat, but the warmth of his body sank into her palm and his soaking musculature scintillated beneath the bright penthouse lights; she wanted so bad to wrap her fingers around him and squeeze the bejeezus out of that tight little bod, but breaking handling decorum once was already enough for one day.
Heather carried her friend to the sofa and lied down, flipping her hand over and dropping Javi onto her chest. The giant athlete had a much fitter build than either Shawna or Michelle, resulting in a much more modest cup size. However, the two-inch man sitting cross-legged on her left tit found he still had plenty of room to get comfortable. Unable to resist, Heather stuck out her forefinger and fussed with the tiny’s hair.
“So, how would you like to go about this? I’m up for anything.”
“Well, I find notecards helpful. We could quiz each other.”
“You know I wasn’t serious about studying, you jerk,” Heather laughed. “Come on, you expect me to believe you and Shawna were going over test questions together.”
“We sorta were,” Javi admitted.
“Nuh-uh, we didn’t skip class to enrich ourselves. Let’s have some real fun. What do you want to do? I’ve never hooked up with a tiny before, so like I said, I’m down for anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. I can put on my old high school uniform if that’s your thing. Or stuff you in my sweaty sock,” Tinies are into that, right? “Or I can call you ‘Master’ and serve you a homecooked meal. You name it.”
Please don’t tell me you actually think any of that is to my taste. Still, Javi wasn’t sure how to respond. Bigs don’t usually ask the tiny to take the lead, not in his experience anyway. He was used to going along with whatever his partner had in store for him. Deep down, he knew what he wanted, but he’d never ask for it, not in a million years. But enough alcohol to fill his insides was quickly coursing through his veins, corroding his inhibition into swiss cheese. “Can I lick your armpit?” he blurted out.
Heather just sort of stared at him for a minute, the both of them engulfed in woeful silence. The flowing waterfall could be heard behind its glass enclosure, and it sounded like an airplane may have been flying overhead. The kitchen refrigerator kicked on and started humming. A couple pigeons cooed beyond the penthouse windows. Javi wanted to die, his face reddening greater than what the alcohol had already accomplished.
“Pffffft! Hahahahaha!” Heather’s heaving chest nearly sent the tiny rolling off the side. In her raucous uproar, the giantess spattered her friend in stray spit droplets. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not laughing at you, just was not expecting that.”
“It sounds like you’re laughing at me,” Javi said, wiping his face off.
“No, I promise. I’m not judging. Here…” Heather sat up, sending Javi falling into her lap, and took off her crop top, revealing the sports bra supporting her underneath, and more importantly, her bare shoulders. Lying back down, Heather grabbed the tiny and brought him closer to her face, plopping him beside her as she tucked her forearms behind her head. The tender underside of her armpit stretched over Javi like a bonny wall, a briny aroma wafting out from the perspirant pocket. Javi stepped back and looked up at the mountainous face for approval, doubting any of this could really be happening. “Go on. I’m curious what this’ll feel like. I did put deodorant on this morning, but I think most of the chemicals have washed off by now.”
Javi didn’t hesitate. He leaned forward against the tucked away skin and took a lick. The taste consisted largely of salt with a floral hint lingering from the woman’s deodorant, but beyond that was savory, like well-seasoned meat. Javi recalled former partners descriptions of what tinies tasted like and noted the similarities. Their inclination to get a mouthful of him was starting to make a lot of sense to the miniature man. Heather hadn’t recoiled or retreated out of reach, so he took another lick.
The giant skater girl relaxed on the couch and watched the top of her puny friend’s head bob to the rhythm of his lapping. She closed her eyes and relished the sensation of that tiny tongue dragging across her sensitive skin and washing her pit clean. She could feel his meager arms pressing into her for support and, was that the tip of hard-on she felt prodding her? A content sigh escaped her lips. She thought back to past lovers and how roughly they treated her. Sex was an act of primal force enacted on one another, a fight for dominance as both parties relented to their urges. But this, this gentle devotion, stuck out to her as something wholly novel.
Javi rubbed his tongue over the stubs of freshly shaved hair. He got between every crevice, wiping off miniscule beads of sweat with his tastebuds. The slight folds and deep pours offered some resistance, but the little challenges only made lapping down the whole pit more enthralling. Within ten minutes, Heather’s underarm was drenched in the mini man’s saliva.
“Mind if I make a request?” Heather asked, peeking over her shoulder.
“Shoot.”
“How’s about we move this somewhere more intimate.” Heather sat up, her torso towering over Javi’s diminutive frame, and slipped out of her bra, flinging the garment behind the sofa. She plucked Javi off the cushion as she returned to her prior position and dropped him off on her bare tit. As he got his footing, he saw the massive index finger pointing at her swollen nipple.
Javi crawled over to the pink stump, the nub about the size of his head, and kissed it, sending the giant woman’s heart a flutter as a soothing symphony of tingles coursed through her nerves. He got a few more kisses in before returning to licking, lathering the nub from every angle.
“You’re really good at this whole worshiping thing,” Heather sighed, practically purring at every lick. “A girl could get used to this kind of treatment.”
“You’re actually into this?” Javi asked, raising his head to meet her gaze. “I'd have guessed you'd be all too used to being doted on.”
“True, but it's not the same.” Heather stared up at the ceiling and chewed on her thoughts. Meanwhile, Javi moved on to serving the areola, sending another shot of dopamine through the giantess’ system. “It's all so disingenuous. All anyone cares about is my name and the wealth behind it. Any kindness shown me is a chance to accrue favor with the family or because they're simply paid to do so.” She bit her tongue. “Sorry, I don't mean to complain. I know I have no right to, but I can't express how fortunate I am to have friends like you and Alena and the twins. You guys actually care about me, the person behind the name.”
“I think you're giving me too much credit.”
“Trust me, I'm not. I know you're enjoying yourself, and that's it. That's all there is to it. This isn’t some ploy to get in my good graces. I’m not pretending to like you while our dads settle on a deal. We're just having fun together, the two us, living in the moment and basking in the other’s company. And that tongue of yours is working wonders.” Heather reached into her bag and pulled out a cig and a lighter. She lit up and took a big whiff, making the conscious effort to blow away from her chest. “This right here’s the fucking life.”
“You know, I’ve never seen someone our age smoke one of those,” Javi observed during the brief moments his mouth wasn’t occupied. Despite the woman's efforts, the toxic odor still wafted its way to the tiny, the pungent fumes overpowering the succulent taste of her skin.
“Started in high school, thought it’d make me look cool. Turns out I was a century too late.” Streams of fetid fog rose into the air, dispersing to the beat of the woman’s breath.
“I’ll admit, it is kinda sexy.” Javi said, hiding his disgust. His tongue was on the verge of drying out as he reached the areola's outer edge, and the tobacco smell took its toll on his stamina.
“Don’t enable me!” she joked. “It’s bad enough Julius buys these for me.” Heather continued smoking, unaware of the impact it had on her friend's performance, or his arousal. With one nipple sufficiently serviced, Javi decided to move onto the next one. Standing up, he stretched his legs and cracked his joints, proceeding to leap from one tit to the other. To no surprise, the adept athlete stuck the landing, but the woman's breast was a much softer surface than the court. His feet sunk into the doughy tissue and sprung back, losing his balance and knocking him off into the shallow cleavage. Heather couldn't help but laugh mid-puff, sending a cloud of smoke billowing towards the tiny.
*Hack* *Hack* *Cough* Enveloped by the pale haze, Javi's throat stung and his eyes watered, the taste of nicotine searing his tongue.
“Oh shit! Shit! I'm so sorry!” Heather reflexively sat up, causing the choking Javi to tumble down the length of her torso. “Shit!” She cupped her palm and caught him at the navel. He tried to recover but was still hacking away in her hand. “Ohmigod, I'm really, really sorry! Wait there, I'll get some water.” She set him down on the couch cushion and ran towards the bar, crushing her cigarette in an ashtray on the way there. She pulled a pitcher from the fridge and a seldom used tiny-size glass from beneath the counter and poured, spilling water all over the counter in the process.
As careful as she could in her hectic state, Heather pinched the glass between her fingers and carried it over to the sofa, losing half of its contents by the time she got there. She knelt beside the couch and handed Javi the drink. “Here. I’m so sorry. That was so stupid of me!”
Javi was sitting up on the expansive furniture still coughing. “Don’t worry *Cough* about it. It’s no *Hack* big deal.” His eyes were bloodshot with tears streaming down them. He had tried wiping them off a few times, but that just smeared them across his reddened face. Heather wanted to fondle him, hold him, comfort him in some way, but she was afraid to even touch him. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, though she managed to blink them back. Javi gulped down the water, coughing a few more times in the process, but he pounded his chest, cleared his throat, and put on a brave face for the concerned visage bearing down on him. “Thanks for the drink. That helped a lot.”
Heather nodded as if she believed him. She watched over him until his coughing died down, and then circled around the couch and grabbed her bra, slipping it back on before sitting down. She sat on the far end, away from Javi so that the impact wouldn’t reach him. “Let’s take it easy for now. We could watch TV?”
“Sure. That sounds good.” Javi coughed into his arm, trying to mute his discomfort as best he could. “I’m guessing you have every streaming service that exists.”
“Yep, even the ones neither of us have heard of.” She tried smirking, but the lingering regret drained the bliss that had so recently felt abundant. Heather picked up the TV remote and started browsing, keeping her attention far away the tiny save for the quick, worried glance. Javi felt painfully isolated in the center of a couch longer than a football field, but he feared getting closer to Heather might only further unnerve her. Flipping through an infinitude of options, Heather settled on a random episode of The Office. For the rest of the morning and through the afternoon until Javi left, there were a few soft chuckles, a wayward remark here and there, and a sold-out concert of awkward silence.