“There they arrrrrrrre…!!!” Sammi Hanes squealed, tottering over in a little jog from where she’d been on the dance floor, arms outstretched to her friend Ashleigh as she and the small entourage from Evolution Pharmaceuticals’ Compliance Team entered the party that Friday night, “and they brought the little bloke!” Her brief black party dress was stretched to its limits over a new, insanely inflated bosom.
Ashleigh was gaping with eyes wide at her friend from behind her tortoiseshell glasses as she dropped the hand with which she’d lead in Sam. Sam Packer was the inspector from what was once the FDA’s Second Division of the Office of Non-Prescription Drugs and she had brought him in with their group of ladies through the double doors of the restaurant Evolution had rented out for this event. “Sammi, omigod..!” Ashleigh laughed, incredulous to the appearance of the young freshman who’d scored this internship at the medical practice they were entertaining tonight, “What did you do to yourself?!?”
“Yeah sis you okay?” spoke Laura, also smiling widely but with a hint of concern in her voice as she surveyed her sister’s appearance, absorbed a hug herself, “those knockers, crickey…”
“Just having some fun..!” Sammi sang, drawing back from Laura and shaking her jaw-dropping torso in a salacious wiggle that sent shock waves through what must be a bustline involving a slew of letters from the deepest part of the alphabet. Aside from her magically enhanced bosom, tonight, at this moment, the shapeshifter sported a long, thick hairdo currently resplendent in colors that reflected blues and greens. “Take a deep breath, guys!” she insisted, “The air in here is bonkers!!” She bounced two steps forward and with an excited “eeeeek!!” and an even wider smile hugged her sorority sister Sofia, who’d been invited by Ash. The shorter, more naturally curvy dark haired girl took the embrace with her typical weird little smile. Both she, Sammi, Ashleigh and their friend Mimi (not here tonight - chem test!) had all recently had an increase to their powers, courtesy of the young Mr. Packer and the magic of the Pink Panther Cocktail.
At Sammi’s suggestion the small, newly arrived group sniffed the air, surveying the room. Immediately they all smelled it, and felt their own systems begin to respond.
Holy shit, Ashleigh thought to herself, chuckling, this place is loaded. She immediately felt…hungry.
“The pheromones here, they are very high,” spoke Dinara, the towering presence bringing up the rear of the pack, in a statement of the obvious and a thickly Russian accent, “you are all drunk like the skunks on it.”
“That and the Whiteclaws babiessssss..!” sang Sammi in her Australian drawl, finishing her greetings to Rina and the few others from Evolution that had come to the event, late. “C’mon, let’s party!!”
They had arrived, it seemed, right towards the end of a small speech that a pretty blonde woman in a smart suit was giving from a raised little stage across the dance floor.
“That’s Sheryl St. Clair, our attorney,” Ashleigh whispered indulgently to Sam as a polite reminder, though gazing around and looking to see if anyone else of interest was here. She saw a slew of girls that had been hired from Evolution - Karen, Nadia, Bianca, a few more - and many that she didn’t recognize. But she didn’t see her…or, thankfully, her. The tall, busty, bespectacled redhead took Sam’s hand again and leaned down to speak into his ear, “you remember Sheryl…”
Sam Packer was about 4’6” at this point, having lost several inches over the workday after hours by Ashleigh’s side, her draining his size on this last day they’d have together. And then there was the episode in Rina’s office, after he’d…signed some papers, right? And then he took a nap? His memory was so fuzzy haha! It had been a long couple of weeks and, like the girls had told him, this would be a nice chance to relax. A party! He loved parties, right? Especially ones that…well…they said they were celebrating…him? Something? A goodbye party? Aw, should he be sad? But there were so many pretty girls! He knew it was rude but he was having trouble not looking at Sammi’s chest.
He remembered waking alone in Rina’s office, on the couch, earlier. Someone had cleaned him up from the mess he’d made - they were all so nice to him. It had been dark outside already; how long he had slept he had no idea. He had gotten up, wandered the dark halls until he found the small crowd, the compliance team, celebrating with champagne in the conference room he’d used as an office these past two weeks. “You’re awake!!” they’d all crowed, oohing and ahhing over his appearance and then in a flash it seemed they had swooped him up en masse and headed out to the party. He’d been shoved into someone’s car next to Ashleigh in the backseat and he could still feel her hips. They’d picked up Sofia along the way.
For now, though, Sam was as attentive as he could be and listened as well as he could to the final bits of Ms. St. Clair’s speech. As short as he was (weird, he didn’t remember feeling this short in crowds), he tried to find sight lines through all the tall, tall hourglasses here. Sheryl had been announcing how Evolution’s product had just got approved for clinical trial, and that the practice (apparently these were all people that worked at the medical practice where the, um, trials, would be taking place) would start seeing patients in their, uh, clinic later this coming week.
He started to get the feeling that Sheryl was, like, the owner of this practice, all these people’s boss. She also worked for Evolution, as an attorney. Right? That nagged a little at Sam…wasn’t that, like, a conflict of interest? Should he have known that, been told? He thought back…he’d already signed the papers, right? The approval was already done, scanned and sent in. Ah, well…probably it didn’t matter.
Up on the riser Ms. St. Clair had just raised a glass of wine or something to the crowd, cheering them for a “Celebration of what’s to come!” when her eyes had drifted to the new arrivals from Evolution. The girls in front of him had parted a bit, to allow him to watch, and Sheryl saw him.
Her eyes lit up, a huge smile broadened. She had big teeth. “And…in fact, ladies,” she announced, “we just so happen to have the investigator, from the FDA, the man who helped us get the Product approved, right here with us tonight..!”
Sam’s heart leapt in his chest, he immediately felt his face flush. She was looking right at him, and now…everyone was looking right at him!! Preternaturally timid, he felt himself seem to shrink under all the attention.
“Sam Packer! Say hi!” Sheryl called out to him, from across the room, and then - omigod! - he was being lifted, lifted from behind, by a pair of huge, strong hands under his armpits.
Held high, aloft under the arms by the She-Hulk Dinara, Head of Security for Evolution Pharmaceuticals and seven feet tall if she was an inch, Sam’s eyes were wide. He was immediately on display, offered like some prize or tribute to the tribe of women assembled here. He waved, meekly, and heard himself peep out a wimpish “hello” to the crowd. The girls in the room - and it was, pretty much, all girls - looked at him, seeing how small he was. The room went silent for a moment, as they began to take this in, as the wheels began to turn, as they all began to see what this man, in his shrunken state and looking even smaller in the hands of this giantess, might symbolize for the future…for the BIG things Sheryl had been promising in her speech. And then they cheered, hooting and hollering for him, stomping their high heels and raising drinks and screaming out. He was embarrassed, feeling like a shy child on display under the adulation and gazes of an oversexed garden club. But it…it kinda also made him feel proud! They were pretty - to a fault, all of them! And they seemed so happy, and it made him happy that they were happy and his little curl of a shy smile only seemed to excite them more and then…they all seemed to take a step forward, towards him, fascinated and excited. But then something strange, something that felt like fear jumped into Sam’s throat, and suddenly his whole world changed.
While up there, while being held four feet off the ground by the amazon behind him, Sam had heard Ashleigh speak something - and then he had a sudden moment of clarity. It was like a veil was lifted from his vision, like a fog had parted from his mind’s eye. The girls, the women surrounding him, no longer seemed the smart, beautiful, well-meaning women they were to him just moments ago. Suddenly they looked…predatory. They looked dangerous. They seemed a pack of she-wolves closing in around him. And he was in the hands of one of them! A big one! She could…she could crush his ribcage, right where he was! She could crush him and he thought omigod no he knew these women would all cheer as his body crinkled and crumbled like a cheap soda can in her grip.
In a new panic, fear washing over his face, he looked down at Ashleigh, and gasped. Oh my god!! Where once stood the tall, competent beautiful young redhead, the at-times-gawky but always-cute-n-sexy girl that had helped him so much over these past couple weeks, the young woman that he kinda/sorta liked and who, he thought, kinda/sorta liked him back…now there stood…this. Ashleigh now appeared as a tall, darkly beautiful being, still in the black dress that accentuated her top-heavy figure, still with red hair, but now with an aura that radiated something…arcane. Something…powerful. Her face, also, looked more beautiful but harder, more severe. Was this an illusion? Or - and he feared that this was actually the truth - was this him seeing through some illusion? She was looking up at him, with eyes that held a dark intelligence deeper than he could fathom, and she was smiling.
He looked around, in his panic, and saw a similar thing in Sammi, in Sofia, in Laura and some of the other girls in the room. There was a darkening around them, like the light in the room had been pulled away from them, and yet they radiated with their own chilled, eldritch fire, magentas, greens. He blinked, he shut his eyes. When he opened them, maybe things looked a little more normal but still - he was terrified, now, and felt like a lamb for the slaughter. He wasn’t being celebrated, he realized now - how could he be so stupid!?! - he was being mocked. They were mocking him, they were mocking all men. He could see it, plain as day. And they were going to do something to him, he just knew it! They had plans!! Even to Sam Packer, ever the optimist, it was obvious that bad shit was happening.
Sheryl, it seemed, had left the stage. Sammi had drifted back across the crowd. The few guys that he had been able to pick out among the women, he now noticed, had been separated from each other. Girls were swarming everywhere; that’s how he saw it, now - not a fun-loving, party crowd of pretty girls. This was a female swarm. He watched it, from on high where he was, and time seemed to pass strangely, fast forward.
Somehow he was back on his feet.
“Come over here, ladies!” Sammi called out loudly, as the music had begun again, “little Sofia is about to do something gnarly you’re all going to want you to see..!”
Taken by the hand again by Ashleigh, who still appeared more eerily beautiful than ever, Sam was led to stand aside a corner booth around which several also-darkly radiant women had grouped along with others. There was a guy pinned in there, seated, an overweight hispanic dude in a black v-neck, sitting slumped backwards on one of the two bench seats. He looked either passed out or very close to it, eyes lolling up into his head, dim smile on his face. Sofia was behind him, against the wall, casually turned with her arms draped around his shoulders. His head rested back on her full chest. She was wearing her normal, asymmetric smile and a thick, oversized, zip-up hoodie; she hadn’t dressed up. She was murmuring something Sam couldn’t quite understand but seemed to recognize, recall from somewhere. Weird, he thought, it sounded like she was speaking backwards. Though a quiet, awkwardly reticent girl, Sofia was visibly pulsing, Sam could see, with an energy that seemed the strongest of any of the women here. Her eyes were darker than anything he had ever witnessed.
Ashleigh stood behind Sam, her arms draped similarly over his shoulders, pulling him back into her own overly full bosom. The bodice of her dress was unbuttoned several bits, and the soft supple flesh of her big, creamy breasts swelled around his ears. She wanted him to watch this. She knew he felt scared, small and helpless. She loved it, the sense of fear in him but unwillingness to run away, even as she continued to slowly absorb his size. But, she allowed just a touch bit of his mollifying haze to return, just to keep him a little docile for the show. The cloud of pheromones in the air helped, but she could also feel them affecting her, making her gradually more giddy, bold. Lots of the girls here, the ones who’d been here all night, were probably three sheets gone; some of them looked half-crazed. The word “bacchanalian” came to mind.
Across the table from Sofia and the very tired, very drunk man in her embrace sat another guy, thick, with a red, unkempt beard to match his sloppy expression. He sat next to a full-figured brunette girl Sam recognized from last weekend at the sorority. Had her name been Emily? Sam could see, with his newly-true vision, that her fingers were crackling with magenta, little electric shocks like static. Why didn’t that seem to bother him?? He knew that…something the heck was happening. But - was it his job to stop it? No, not really. And…he was kinda interested, to see…well…
The occupants of the table had all been sharing, it seemed, something from a hip flask on the table. Pink cocktails, half-drunk, littered the space between them. And now Emily was filling the Hispanic guy’s glass from the silver flask, and then Sofia’s, and then her own. More flowed from the small vessel than should be possible. The things are supposed to only hold like eight ounces or so, right? She was pouring whole drinks.
Women were closing in all around them, Sam could feel; they were also watching. He felt so small, so helpless, but at least he had Ashleigh holding him. And though her breasts were warm and comforting, an energy seemed to be flowing from him into her. He’d felt something similar all throughout the day, but this was more acute. Not bad, just strange. He felt like he needed her warmth or else he’d get really cold. As if sensing his thoughts, she nestled him in closer, tighter.
The small, surrounding crowd watched as Sofia, with the latino dude still slumped back into her, picked up a full rocks glass of the pink cocktail and tipped it back, sucking it into her mouth. She didn’t swallow but held it there, in her puffed out cheeks, fighting back a smile and trying to keep from laughing as she glanced up at the crowd. That’d be a mess! Sam silently started to chuckle before catching himself, knowing that…oh god…this girl had something planned. She still didn’t swallow, simply holding the cocktail in her mouth - what was she doing? warming it up? Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and more magenta sparkles crackled at Emily’s fingertips, and Sam could hear those strange incantations coming from somewhere. Then he watched as Sofia, putting down her glass, looked down at the man in her lap, and placed two fingers of her left hand under his chin. His head bobbed, but she held it still. She bent in, slowly, tilting his face up to her and coming in for what looked like a kiss, her other hand now coming to cup his jaw and open it. His eyes were closed. She placed her mouth on his, and emptied the contents of her mouth into his.
He stiffened - his whole body jerked and his eyes opened. Sofia held him, held his head, held him captive in her lap. He wasn’t tall but he was bigger, much bigger than her, but somehow she kept him from sitting up away from her and instead he started to calm as she began cooing in Italian to him. “bevi, bevi. ingoia, ingoia per me…” she purred, stroking his cheek and holding his head inclined, upwards, until she saw him swallow. She smiled that weird, skewed smile of hers and watched his face as his eyes drifted closed again.
The surrounding crowd was quiet, watching, as were the couple’s booth-mates across from them. All were rapt as Sofia caressed his face, trailing fingers of her left hand now slowly down his beefy throat, drifting over the beer-stained front of his bloated shirt. Her hand disappeared into shadows below, between his legs, and the semi-conscious man groaned. Sofia bit her plump lower lip, fetchingly, movements of her left arm betraying her actions as her face studied his for a moment, then tilted skyward as he began to shake. His big, husky body shivered, and then stiffened, motionless, as motionless as the crowd around him.
And then he began to fade.
The women around him, along with his red-headed friend across from him and Sam standing at the table’s head, watched as the heavy man’s body began, slumped back into Sofia, to become less. His hefty frame, his paunchy belly, began to dwindle. He became, gradually but at a good pace, right before the watching eyes, thinner. His previously stretched-out black t-shirt slowly came to drape him. His thick neck receded, his round face trimmed, became more and more wan. His skin, at the same time, began to pale. In fact, he began - to Sam, at least - to look less and less corporeal, less and less of this earth and more and more like his body was fading to a different plane. And all the while he remained seemingly oblivious, still semi-conscious but apparently unaware or unconcerned or merely just too caught up in some dark pleasure in which he was swimming to notice he was, it seemed, slowly disappearing.
Or being absorbed.
“Oh my god are you all seeing this..?” someone behind Sam marveled, a woman, their voice overcome in awe. Blatant in its thrill.
“Jesus…” answered another.
Sofia had continued to coo, caress him, now both hands embracing him as he shriveled. “più magro, più magro, più magro…” she murmurred, “thinner, thinner, thinner…” Her smile had become even more crooked, watching this heavy man become less and less in her lap. He was likely a third of his previous weight at this point, and looked not only thinner but smaller, like he was shrinking in height and not just in bulk and solidity. He was, though, becoming sickly thin now, the pounds shedding from him and going - where? - at a faster and faster rate. Sofia’s breaths were coming more quickly now, but she concentrated on keeping them strong, as measured and filling as she could. At the same time he was becoming almost translucent.
“Do it, Sofia,” spoke Emily, from across the table, her voice low and wrought with her own amazement. Her eyes betrayed a deep arousal, and she was studying the scene with dark excitement.
Quietly, Sofia adjusted the now-thin, now-small, increasingly transparent hispanic man in her lap and brought one hand to her collar, where she took the zipper of her thick hoodie and, behind his back, unzipped herself, down completely. Sam could, as she began to pull the edges of the sweatshirt out from behind the shrinking man, see that she was shirtless below, with the hint of a big, white bra, thick of strap beneath her now-unzipped top. She took the edges of her hoodie and, even as he continued to dwindle, wrapped them around him, easily covering him, his entire torso, his entire face and head. His arms had dropped and were pinned to his sides. She said nothing aside from the Italian purrs she was using to comfort him - ‘va bene, va bene tesoro’ - as she, then, began to zip herself back up, with him inside her sweatshirt with her, ostensibly still wasting away. He had, the onlookers could see, begun to weakly struggle, some last-ditch effort to save himself, maybe finally realizing what was happening. It didn’t matter: he was too shrunken, too feeble now to escape.
Red Beard, across the table, stood and ran.
Well, more like shot up, stumbled his way up out of the booth, pushed Sam and several girls out of the way and tried to run. He made it a couple people deep into the crowd before he was met with an unstoppable force.
“Where you think you go, little man?” asked Dinara Tankov, 7’4” before the eight-inch heels which she wore to match the white tube dress in which her heavily-muscled, nearly 400-lb body was sheathed. He, the red-headed goon, had slammed into her rock-hard abdominals like he had hit a brick wall - a brick wall which now looked down on him and smiled with a frightening intensity, cords of her neck standing out in the dim light. She took the moment to tuck a lock of her short, dirty blonde hair between one ear, like pretty girls do, and flash a big, white smile. But then her huge, huge hands grabbed him by the shoulders. She gazed down into his face, cocked her head, studying him.
While the rest of the crowd had turned, was now watching Dinara and her new captive, Sam was still held by Ashleigh, still embraced from behind as they stood. She hadn’t moved, and her eyes now met with the sitting Sofia. She had wanted Sam to continue to watch, to see what her friend and junior sorority sister was doing to the man she’d wrapped up into her top. His form, now just a swelling below her sweatshirt, had continued to grow smaller. His stick-thin lower legs stuck out from below the lower hem, from the knees downward, kicking less violently, becoming still as they receded gradually up into her top. They continued to thin, they continued to shrink, until it was just little feet that could be seen. Sofia casually pulled the hem of her sweatshirt down, a bit, and he was now lost from view.
What in the name of all that is holy is happening?!?!? Sam silently screamed.
The once-big, once barrel-chested construction worker, a full-grown man, was being absorbed. He was now barely there, visible as less than a large lump on little Sofia’s big chest through her thick, black, zip-up hoodie.
Sam and Asheleigh’s attentions were now pulled to their right by a man hollering. Ash turned, with Sam, so they could see what Dinara was doing with her new friend, Red Beard. After slamming into her during his escape attempt, the man had obviously been embraced by Dinara. She had crouched a bit, so she could wrap her enormous arms around his back, and stood. He now struggled against her, trying to free himself from the python-hold in which she had him. Ineffectually he kicked, as his arms were pinned to his sides. His head thrashed back and forth, and he was yelling expletives at her from all directions.
“I love it they struggle…” Dinara was musing, looking down at the man in her arms and his pleas. She, it seemed, was exerting no effort in holding this man aloft, holding him immobile. Her big breasts plastered into his upper chest and neck, her incredible biceps swelled around his sides. Thick, muscular shoulders flexed traps the size of anvils, her bare upper back spread wider, to twice his. “Go on…try to get away.”
Young women all around them had gone from shock and awe - jesus this woman was strong! - to laughing, urging her on as the man’s struggles took on new fervor. Many had never seen Dinara before, or knew what she could do. The employees of Evolution - past and present - curled their smiles and could predict what was about to happen.
“Jesus she’s so big!” someone laughed.
“So much bigger than him!”
“She’s going to love him…”
“Look how small she makes him look!”
“...and hug him…”
“omigod look at this…look at what she’s doing to him…!!”
“...and call him George.”
Dinara laughed, a deep, resounding basso profundo, and began to squeeze.
Sam, for his part, was swimming between fascination and terror. He’d met Dinara before, on a bunch of occasions, and admittedly had secretly, invariably always wondered what it would be like to be right where this red-headed goon was now, locked in her giant death-grip. He listened to the man’s first scream, and imagined he would sound the same, if this giantess were to have him in his place. Sam, in fact, was shorter than this guy; he would look even more tiny in Dinara’s arms. Snap easier when she began to-
“Omigod she’s going to crush him!”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah! Do it! CRUSH him!!”
The girls, the women around him, were being worked up into a frenzy. First watching Sofia, and now this. The pheromones, the prion in their central nervous system, the new vulni-chic/female dominant urges they’d all been feeling these past months were coming to a head, having their effects. Finally they were going to SEE it, see what coujld become of men, what could become of the old world, this fucking patriarchy they had withstood for so long. One of their sisters, grown huge, dominating a man like a toy!
“Crush him, squash him!!” someone cried, “We want to see him BREAK!”
At the urging of both the crowd and her own deepest instincts, Dinara tightened her arms together, more, more, more. He, the man in her embrace, had all but stopped struggling, helpless against her immense strength, unable to breathe but groaning out anew. He was close to passing out, losing consciousness. The crowd could then hear the sharp cracking noises, ribs beginning to snap, while Sam could only pick up muffled crunches from his position wedged between Ashleigh’s tits.
“Fucking do it…” a woman goaded.
Dinara chuckled, and squeezed, harder and harder. His weak male body was nothing compared to her female strength. Bones broke, ribs and others. Clavicles, a spine. Organs began to burst. He had stopped moving, was making no sound aside from the low gurgles that heralded his imminent passing. She squeezed harder, intending to make him a little male pulp, turn him into man-goo. She wanted him to be pudding, a stain, a nothing, so she squeezed harder and harder and harder. His body broke, in a hundred different ways, in the giant woman’s mighty, crushing arms, grown huge by female science and a lifetime with metal weights. Limbs folded over shoulders, hips shattered under skin. His head lolled backward, mouth agape.
“AHAHA haha haha little man yes yes LOOK UP AT ME!” Dinara commanded, and in one of his last conscious actions his eyes did open, and with already failing vision he looked up into the burning, dominant eyes of a woman who, if she could, would crush his entire race exactly as she had done him. “Look up and see WHO IS DO THIS!!! Look and see who BREAK you! Break MAN!!” she decreed, “IT IS WOMAN!!!”
The eyes of the man, the eyes of the man shattered by the awesome, superhuman strength of the female juggernaut, widened one last time - blood vessels bursting in their whites - as he looked with unholy terror into the chiseled, beautiful face above him and saw, in his last moments-
“This is FUTURE!!” Dinara roared, as the women around her all screamed and sang and hollered their harpy song, in the voice of the furies, a glorious, pheromone- and estrogen-fueled cacophony that all but blistered Sam’s brain.
Dinara squeezed, one last time, this time with every ounce of her prodigious strength, and the body of man burst in her arms, in a sickening little <blurp>.
Now it was Sam’s turn to run.
Or so he thought.
He made to try to take off, to burst from Ashleigh’s embrace and bolt away, terrified like a kid goat finding itself suddenly amidst a pack of tigers. He grabbed her arms by the wrists and - not only did he fail to pull them off his chest - tried to plant his feet, to run. But his feet, they weren’t on the ground. He was being held, now, by Ashleigh, gripped to her torso and his shoes hovered six inches above the floor! He jerked, he spasmed, he did all he could to shake himself free with the new horror that without even realizing it, over these past few minutes as clutched to Ash’s bosom he’d watched these men meet their ends, he had just shrunk six inches!
“Something wrong, Sammie?” Ashleigh asked, her voice frightening in its tranquility. The trigger word would hopefully calm him a bit, but she knew that - since she’d opened his mind’s eye a bit earlier they’d be having to deal with a little more anxiety than normal in him. The triggers might not be as effective, for now.
Just as unnerving to Sam as Ashleigh’s voice was the fact that she was able to hold him off the ground by six inches so casually, like he weighed nothing. He struggled to calm himself, so he could speak. “I-I-I…I think I need t-to leave…” he answered.
To that, Ashleigh giggled, sending ripples of boob around his ears. That was adorable, she thought, as she hugged him in closer. The two of them watched, each still fascinated in their own way, as from on high Dinara dropped the body of the broken man to the floor, where it disappeared among the crowd of girls, at their feet. “Oooo don’t worry, pumpkin. I know you’re scared,” Ashleigh spoke, after a moment, as the girls descended upon the body, “we’re all here to make sure you feel better.” She knew she should probably spare Sam the sight of what these unhinged women, possessed as they were by turbulent hormones, too much booze and the prion, were about to do with the body. She turned around, with Sam still in her arms, to face-
“Did I just hear the someone needs to feel better?” spoke a huge, full-chested blonde, whose massive tits were now filling Sam’s vision. She’d been standing right behind them in an elegant, high-necked red dress, slit high up her long, thickly muscular legs and with a cut-out window of bulging cleavage in the bodice.
“Morgan!!” Ashleigh sang, and released Sam with one arm to throw it around the blonde, full-bodied woman, now using just one arm to hold him aloft. The women were of very different builds but similar heights.
“MMMPH..!” Sam could be heard to exclaim, now squashed between bosoms - each bigger than the next - as Morgan Horvath, APRN leaned in to hug Ashleigh, her own thick arms wrapped around the younger, thinner girl in a warm embrace. As if he wasn’t even there, Sam all but disappeared between the two voluptuous bodies, sandwiched. His nose and face fit nicely into the cutout in the top of Morgan’s dress, so they were skin-to-skin.
Ashleigh had had the opportunity to work with Nurse Morgan a couple months ago. She’d come to them for a short while from overseas, one of the Eastern labs, and her experience in dealing with the physiology of the altered male body was super-helpful in Evolution’s secret labs. Little men could get so cold and hungry so easily. The big blonde APRN had recently been transferred to FHMA, where she’d been assigned to help in the early rollout of the Product.
Still in their hug, the two women finally acknowledged that they had a small man squashed between them, each glancing down at the top of Sam’s little head, which could still be seen. He’d started to struggle a bit, likely feeling a touch smothered. The two ladies shared a quick glance, a mischievous smile, and each shimmied their shoulders to playfully mush his face between their breasts even deeper.
“MMmmppphh…” he exclaimed again, though this time a touch less emphatically.
“Haha I think he is starting to the enjoy hisself down there..!” Morgan laughed, her voice heavy with an accent strongly Eastern European. Ashleigh giggled also, and the two women began to release their hug. “Ooooo are not you the cutie?” Morgan drawled, as Sam’s flushed face appeared, gazing up at her with wide eyes. Her smile held a curl as soft as those in her shoulder-length blonde hair.
“Coming up for air, Sammie?” Ash chuckled, now embracing him again with two arms around his chest. He’d slipped a bit, down her body; she took a moment to hoist him back up. His feet still dangled, swinging now seven inches above the ground. “Sam, this is Morgan. We used to work together,” Ashleigh said, by way of introductions.
“It is the nice to meet you, Sammie,” Morgan purred richly from above, using the finger of one hand to trace a slow, languid line down Sam’s nose, over his lips, and settle on his chin.
Jesus this woman is beautiful, Sam marveled, gazing up at her, getting lost in her sparkling green eyes. The way she touched him with her hand had been an odd, strangely intimate greeting from someone he’d just met, but the finger on his chin felt warm, nice, comforting. Her voice, also, was deep, reassuring. They’re allll beautiful….he marveled.
“I think he likes you, Morgan,” Ashleigh snickered, inching in again just a touch closer to the big-boned blonde, filling Sam's vision with the mountains of her bosom. “Maybe you’d like to hold him…”
“Mmmm yess I do so like to hold the little men but…” Morgan began, finger still on Sam’s quivering chin, “he looks the happy right where he is.” At that, Morgan gently pushed on Sam’s chin, pressing him even deeper into Ashleigh’s enveloping cleavage. “Now, what were you the saying, little boy,” Morgan began again, “about wanting to leave?”
“Uhhh…” Sam started, flummoxed by the overpowering bosoms of these two enormous women. But he had, he remembered, he had wanted to leave. He’d just seen a man get crushed! Killed maybe! And another one…what had happened to him?!? He shoul-
“Don’t you want to dance with us?” Ashleigh now purred, as both women pivoted a little, opening the space up between them so Sam could now see out onto the dance floor, where the music had resumed, strobes flashed and girls all moved about to the energetic rhythms. The crowd of them writhed and danced in an orgy of pheromones and wine, moving their beautifully burgeoned bodies to the beats.
Sam could see that, among all the people, there seemed to be only one man, a tall, rail-thin dude with a mustache. He was sweating, barely moving, watching the women all around him dance and gyrate, seemingly flabbergasted and confused. The Australian sisters Sammi and Laura had him all but pinned between them, and Sam looked on in his own bewilderment as the two shape-shifted wildly with the music, hair changing colors under the strobes, flashing rainbows and silvers and golds. Their breasts were huge, pressing into the man’s thin arms, or his back, or being jostled and jiggled for his wide, awestruck eyes as the girls laughed and Laura changed skin color, as Sammi morphed into Marilyn Monroe.
Ashleigh’s hands caressed Sam’s sides as she still held him up against her torso, so he could watch as the girls now - a blue-skinned Laura had, from behind, put her hands on the mustached guy’s shoulders - forced the overwhelmed man to his knees, right on the dance floor. He was being surrounded, the crowd was slowly all turning in towards him, and he gazed up at a laughing and jiggling Sammi, who leaned over to dance and laugh in his face and now looked like Raquel Welch.
Unbeknownst to Sam but blatantly apparent on the guy’s slack-jawed face, Mustache had already been the victim of a pheromone lobotomy. The girls had, through the witchcraft of their bodies (and with the help of just some plain old witchcraft haha) carelessly turned him into a mindless, drooling cretin. He was a shell of a man, his personality shattered and scattered, and there was no hope for him of ever returning to the life he’d had before or the construction job he’d recently scored. But, to all the girls now surrounding him, he was still a man. And men can be fun.
Kim Kardasian (and that was bold on Sammi’s part; the woman was about to become a senator) now waggled her enormous rear in Mustache’s gaping face. But another woman, a thin blonde in a black dress that squashed a pale, hugely swollen bosom up to her throat, was being pulled by some friends, laughing, towards him. She was being placed, now with her back to Sam but right in front of where Mustache knelt on the floor and women all gathered around her. Someone was behind the guy, lifting him up a bit on his knees so - and this was getting hard for Sam to see, through the building crowd - he could be presented to the new blonde. She was laughing and, as she did, was pulling down one of the shoulders of her stretchy black dress. The crowd pushed in more, pressing she and he together, and Sam could not see what was happening.
“She’s breastfeeding him!” someone called out, with a laugh, “C’mere, watch! Katarina’s breastfeeding that guy!”
The crowd of women was writhing around the blonde and her new charge, and Sam could see that, yes, she’d hugged his head to her chest, now both shoulders of her dress down. Some of the girls around her still danced, some held Mustache to their co-worker. Sam saw a strange, deep pink aura had begun to faintly crackle around the group.
“Holy shit!”
“So fucking hot!”
“Drink up you little baby man!!”
“Look at him!!”
“What’s happening?? What’s happening to him?!? Holy shit..!”
“Want to dance, Sam?”
That was Ashleigh’s voice, from above and behind him, reverberating through her chest.
“N-no thank you,” Sam stammered, in a quiet, meekly overwrought voice, trying to turn and look up at her but mostly just getting a face-full of tit. His fear had doubled, tripled, and he knew for sure he was next in the sights of these women. There weren’t any other guys here! He didn’t know if he should fight, or run, or just stay quiet and hope for…he didn’t know what. Mercy?? That they’d make it quick? That he’d actually…like it?!? Oh god! What was happening?!?
“Not in mood for the dancing, hm?” Morgan purred deeply, from Sam’s left side. She began to move in, again, towards Ashleigh, the window-cleavage of bulging boob-flesh from her red dress approaching his face once .more. “That okay,” she said, “We don’t need to the dance.”
“Who’d you find, here, Morgan?” asked another woman, a super-tall redhead who’d just approached behind Morgan, and now looked over her shoulder and down at Sam. Yikes! This was Bianca! The superwoman he’d seen at Evolution a few times. The lights above her flickered as she smiled down at him, and immediately Sam could see the same dark aura around her that he was seeing on Ashleigh, Sammi and Laura, the girl Emily at the table and Sofia. What were these women?? Witches?!? Wasn’t Rina here, somewhere? Was she…normal?? Or was she like them too?! “Oh, it’s Sammmmm….” Bianca purred, biting her lower lip and peering down at the small man with the eye of a jungle predator, “We’re so glad you came…”
Speaking of the girls, speaking of Emily and Laura and Sammi, they all slowly appeared, also, around him, with Morgan and Ashleigh. The eldritch cloud was now thicker, darker than ever and settled over the group thickly. Pink energy crackled at its edges. Were other people seeing this?! Sam though, in his growing panic, Or is it just me?!?
Am I going crazy?!? I must be going crazy!
He was not going crazy, deep down he knew that. He was, rather, caught in some bizarre ritualistic meeting of a cabal of female demons or something else unholy that was also a swag dinner for a pharm company. He also realized that, looking from one girl to the next, to the next to the next to the next, seeing the hunger they had for whatever it was that he represented, that it was too late, that his fate was sealed. That he was - and he was not one to curse lightly - fucked.
How did this happen?!? These are just girls!! And I’m…I’m a man!!
“Here, sweetie, let’s get you somewhere more private,” Ashleigh said down to him, her voice again a resounding rumble through her chest, “Somewhere where we can all pay you the attention you need…” At that, still grasping him to her chest with one arm, Ashleigh bent down a bit and used the other arm to scoop him up, behind his knees, under his legs, and lift him further aloft, tucking his thighs up to his chest and now hugging him with both arms under his thighs, folding him into her body. His head and shoulders were still surrounded by her breasts, and she squeezed him into her. “Let’s go ladies, let’s show little Sammie here what we’re capable of…”
The girls chatted, casually, as if one of them weren’t carrying a full-grown man like a child back towards the booths, back to the dark corner one where the hispanic guy had apparently disappeared under Sofia’s sweatshirt. As if they weren’t talking offhandedly about how their powers had all been surging, either with the recent episode with Sam at the sorority, or with the evolutionary effect the new Office Manager at the medical practice was having on her new employees. As if altering elections, growing three inches taller in two weeks or planning on summoning a thunderstorm were all things regular girls would be talking about.
Back at the booth, the young, dark-haired sorceress Sofia was already there, basking in the afterglow of having just absorbed an entire human male, in one sitting. She was sipping on a glass of water, no ice. Her dark eyes reflected even darker things, and her mind had begun to open like a violet orchid from the deepest gardens of Gehenna. The possibilities, with the strength she was growing into and with what she and others like her would soon be able to do as the sacrifices began to come to them en force, was thrilling her silently. Her days in the gypsy slums of Rome were over; it was becoming her time. She looked up at her sisters approaching her table, the small man Ashleigh held in her arms, and gave a little smile.
Emily scooted her big rear in, back to where she’d been in the booth before, in the far right corner. With one arm she cleared the surface of its empty glassware, pushing the few that hadn’t yet been taken by the waitstaff against the wall allowing Ashleigh, despite the occasion, to unceremoniously plop Sam on his little butt right onto the wooden table. Both he and Ash had felt it: his skin - that of his ears, the sides of his face, anywhere where his flesh touched hers - had seemed sticky, and nearly had to be peeled away.
Ashleigh immediately felt the emptiness, as his presence - her dark soul’s food - left her. She knew it had to be, that he was promised for another, but…darn, she laughed to herself, It would have been so easy. But then she reminded herself: No worries; there’ll be others. She pushed her glasses back up her nose.
“Hey wait..!” Sam called out, feeling now not only terrified to his deepest core but just plain silly, sitting on a table. First facing the wall, he spun around to watch as, next to Sofia, Laura and then Sammi scooted in. On Emily’s side, first it was Ashleigh and then Bianca. With everyone all squished in, three to a bench, Morgan pulled up a chair to sit at the end of the booth’s table. Sam looked around; he was, indeed, again surrounded.
“So who do we have here?” Emily chuckled, bringing one hand to Sam’s left shoulder, “Another boy to play with?”
“Un altro sacrificio per le belle dee,” Sofia smiled, her right hand coming to his other shoulder, where it tingled erotically. Both girls, now were easing him down, to recline back onto his hands.
“A manlet to eat,” the statuesque Bianca purred, wrinkling her pretty nose at him and wiggling her torso flirtatiously, big bosoms jiggling in the strapless top of her lilac party dress. Her long auburn hair fell softly about her shoulders, not as thick and curly as Ashleigh’s red mane but intermingling with it on her right. The overhead lamp, a pendant hanging low over the table but well above Sam’s head, flickered, and he could have sworn he saw the reflection of a strange magenta lightning in Bianca’s eyes. “Yum yum yummm…” she drawled, as she inflated her surprisingly athletic shoulders, flexed her muscular traps.
“Ladies, this one’s meant for someone else, our connection at the FDA,” Laura spoke, in her Australian twang, “So not for tucker tonight. She’s apparently feeling quite clucky and put in a few requests…think we can accommodate her?”
“Tucker? Clucky?” Emily asked. Not just one of these Outback hicks…there’s two of them??
Sammi spoke up to explain. “What my darling older sister is trying to tell you blokes is-”
“Let’s just have some fun, girls,” Ashleigh smiled, her eyes meeting Sam’s and seeing the admittedly yes yummy, delicious, scrumptious fear in them. It was so intoxicating: after all that had happened, he was still looking to her for answers, safety, protection. Among this coven of temptresses, of what he saw as she-demons and knew she was a part of, to him she was still, somehow, his safe place. Ha! “It’ll all work out just fine…”
At that, Ashleigh’s left hand came to rest on his chest and she, along with Sofia, Emily, and now Laura, eased Sam down. “Lay back, cutie,” Ashleigh purred, watching his face as he began to comply, “We’ll take good care of you.”
Sam’s heart was racing. He’d seen, in just the past ten minutes, how these girls had done away with not one not two but three full-grown men. And here he was, laying down onto his back amongst them, shrunken to just over four feet tall and feeling more vulnerable than he ever had in his life. He was the last remaining male here, and he felt like a lamb brought feeble for the slaughter.
“Do we want some privacy, ladies?” Emily asked, and with a few strange words and a flutter of her lids, a darkening surrounded them, all but blotting out the world around their table. Figures beyond it, others at the party, were visible but just barely, like shades from another plane. The girls inside this uncanny space were likewise now unseen by others outside it, who now strangely ignored the empty table in the dark corner.
Morgan Horvath, APRN and the only non-witch at the table, seemed unfazed by the uncanny proceedings, like she’d seen it all before. Now that Sam was laying flat, his feet just barely reaching her end of the table, she took one of his now-oversized shoes in her big hands and plucked it off. “We need to make sure you are the comfortable,” she said, tending dutifully to her task, “We need to make sure you are the safe.” She dropped the shoe to the floor, and pulled off the second. She began to peel off his similarly-too-big socks.
Sammi snorted. “Safe, haha, safe,” she giggled. She’d shifted back, now, from her last celebrity guise to just plain-old Sammi Hanes - albeit with a bust to beat the band bursting from her bodice and a mane of glittering platinum. Her sister Laura aside her sported similar hair. “Fair dinkum?”
“Fair dinkum,” Laura finished, leaning over him, now, as he lay there frozen in fear. He’d known Laura the computer girl from Evolution for two weeks, bought her smoothies, and admired the bravery of her offbeat fashion sense. But he’d never seen this sort of look in her eyes, or have them change color even as he looked at them. “We won’t hurt a hair on his adorable little nugget,” she spoke, irises now a metallic, iridescent blue.
Sofia leaned in, as did Sammi and Emily and Bianca. Last was Ashleigh. Morgan held his feet, massaging them casually, tenderly, shoulders back and huge bust bulging. Cleavage was everywhere, on all sides of him. “Can you see what we are, now, Sam?” Ashleigh asked, her glimmering eyes on him through her glasses as intensely as the others, each of them with the eldritch aura crackling over them, a feminine energy flowing around and between them like a gathering storm, “And do you know what we’re going to do to you?”
His mouth gaped, gibbered, stammered something. He knew, but he had no idea. He wanted…he wanted…
He didn’t know what he wanted.
Giggles tittered and shimmered in the air above him, feeding the storm.
“Maybe we’ll tell you…” Ashleigh continued, glancing at Laura, who had started unbuttoning his oversized shirt, “Of course you’ve noticed, sweetie, how men have been wanting to change. How they’re adjusting their lifestyles, diet and exercise to…limit their size. Get skinny, less muscular. Smaller however they can. It’s the trend, the fashion, it’s what girls and women want these days in their boyfriends, husbands. It’s what we find…attractive.”
The prion has made damn sure of all this.
“So attractive,” Sammi cooed, biting her lips and fighting the urge to reach out and rub his leg.
“So hot,” Bianca mirrored, her tone already deep and sultry.
“Men want to fit in more with the trends, so they’re doing their best,” Ashleigh calmly continued. Laura had finished unbuttoning his shirt, and was tugging it out of his also-too-big pants, where he’d had it tucked, “When you came to us you were already a small guy, so weak already-”
“So cute,” Sammi purred, feeling her pulse quicken as she noticed the swelling growing down his right thigh.
“So vulni,” Bianca growled, eyes flashing like a cat’s.
“Yes, you were already so very in-fashion,” Laura jumped in, idly taking his right hand into hers, holding it tenderly, looking at it, “All the ladies wanted to crack onto you…”
Sammi and Sofia giggled, remembering last weekend.
“And, since then, we’ve made you even better,” Ashleigh said further, “Look at you now…”
At that Laura took his hand, held it up, palm-to-palm, to hers. She wasn’t as tall as Ash, Bianca or Morgan…but her hand still dwarfed his. His fingertips came barely to her final knuckles. The size comparison was dramatic, and made pulses around the table quicken. “Little hands,” Laura spoke, dreamily, her hair radiating a new cold fire in its silvery hue.
“Little feet,” Morgan chuckled, now taking his bare feet and placing them, by their heels, up on her breasts, one on each boob.
“Piccola testa,” Sofia spoke, letting her jaw drop wider, her mouth open lazily, “little head.” He does not remember, of course, quando gli ho ingoiato la testa, she thought to herself, but I do.
“Wouldn’t women love it if all their husbands, boyfriends, became as small as you are now?” Ashleigh asked. To her right, Emily had begun to whisper incantations. Sofia’s eyes roamed from Sam up across the table to her. “And have you ever wondered just what might happen if the vulni-chic movement went…even further?” she pressed on, though Sam was obviously speechless, not even attempting to keep conversation. The other girls, though, all voiced their affirmations; they’d all imagined it. Pictured it. Worked so so hard to prepare for it and maybe, just possibly, some day bring it to a reality.
“Well, Sammie, we’re going to show you something tonight that will blow your mind,” Ashleigh said, “It’s all part of the incredible, cutting-edge research at KOLEC-...at Evolution, and…girls like us? We’re just doing our part.”
“Don’t you want to do yours…?” Bianca nearly snarled, lip curling aggressively. The lighting above, again, flickered as if in echo with the tall red witch’s emotions.
“Oh, he’s helped out so much, already,” Laura offered, having moved on from hand-comparison to regarding his forearm, how much smaller and thinner it was than her own.
“He has, he really has,” Ashleigh assured, looking him again in the eye, “with helping us get the Product its approval, and also helping us out and being so patient with our…experiments.” She smiled at him. “And you’ve had fun, right?”
His jaw quivered, his eyes were wide and fearful, but Sam - almost imperceptibly - nodded.
“Yes, yes you have,” Ashleigh cooed, indulgently, “We here think the choices you’ve made should be made available to all men, all couples who really want to deepen their relationship, explore their true selves, what they really want to have together. The Product is going to help, and we think we, girls of…our abilities, can help more.”
“We want to help…” Laura purred, petting his arm.
“We want to help so much…” someone else added.
“We can’t wait to help…”
“We can’t wait to change you all…”
“Just you wait…”
“Partly thanks to you,” Ashleigh continued, “women will soon be assuming almost all the positions of power in our society. We sisters think men should have…their own new place, too. An appropriate seat, the right roles at work, at home-”
“…in our knickers,” Sammi giggled, earning a playful slap on the arm from her sister.
“Let’s show him, girls,” Ashleigh said, smiling in mirth, “let’s show him how it’s going to be.” She looked at the dark witch in the corner. “Sofia?”
At that, the young girl with the unkempt hair and the big, dark eyes laid her hands on him, one on either side of his head. She cradled it tenderly, like a gentle mother with its child, and as she spoke in the strange, sibilant tongue he’d remembered from a dream, tendrils of a fuchsin energy began to snake from her fingers, slide like serpents onto his face, around his head and neck, crawling down him further. They bathed him in a dim new light, sliding under his clothes, making them seem partially translucent with their luminescence. They slithered around his most private parts, snaked down his legs, wrapped themselves like constrictors around his knees, ankles, wrists. He tried to move, to sit, perhaps to flee but it felt like some terrible weight was bearing down on him, both around and within him somehow. Sam felt pinned down. He couldn’t move, couldn’t sit, couldn’t run. A tingling sensation had began to ripple through his body, washing down over him from the crown of his head to his toes, getting stronger and stronger as the tendrils began to enter his body, through his skin.
The serpentine energy spawning from Sofia’s fingers and now burrowing into Sam wasn’t just snaking something into him, but was also pulling something out, from inside of him, taking something from him. Sam felt it himself, energy leaving him, his self becoming less, reducing, shrinking. The resonance electrified his skin, shivered his organs, vibrated his skeleton. It made his teeth chatter. Is that my soul?? Sam silently gasped, Is she stealing my soul?!? He tried to yell but, though his mouth had dropped wide, he found his voice silent. His widening eyes screamed for him.
The girls around the table stared in rapt attention as - the tentacles of energy now gone, slithered into him - Sam began to shrink. None of them had ever witnessed anything like this before, something so dramatic, so immediate: Sofia was not killing him, consuming him. She was just shrinking him. The already shockingly small man on table had begun to dwindle under the dark girl’s serpentine spell, and it was fucking cool.
“Oh my god Sofia you’re so powerful…” one of them marveled.
“We are even stronger together, sorelle…” Sofia spoke, smiling beatifically, looking up from Sam to the six others at the table. Her hair fluttered as if caressed by a light breeze, her eyes holding a wisdom many years more ancient than any of them here. “Here, friends, hold my hands,” Sofia said, as she took her gentle fingers from Sam’s temples and offered her hands to Laura, across the table to Emily.
The group of women sat straight, now, all linking their hands into a circle around him, the shrinking man below them. “Yes, Morgan, please. You too,” Sofia said, “All women have power.”
Sam felt the table seem to expand around him on all sides, was watching as the girls all joined hands, now looking down into him. Finding himself now able to move, albeit heavily, he propped himself up on his arms. His mind swam in a turbulent confusion, his eyes darting from one woman to the next, looking for answers as the world around him grew. Their faces - Sammi, Laura, Sofia - began to rise higher above his eye level. Their shoulders - Emily, Ashleigh, Bianca - seemed to grow wider, higher. He could see the shape of Morgan’s huge nipples pressing against her tight red dress as her big breasts seemed to swell in size. Soon, he was no longer able to look straight into the eyes of any of the women seated around him. They began to loom taller from his perspective, getting bigger and more imposing. He was shrinking down in size as they looked down on him. His already small frame was getting smaller and smaller, below four feet, below three feet, smaller and smaller, closer and closer to-
“Oh, baby…!” Ash exclaimed, finally unable to control her excitement. Watching this, and then unable to help but take the next step and imagine it happening everywhere, the eldritch tendrils of their kind snaking out all over the world, had lit new fires inside her, inside all of them here. “How does it feel??”
“Shrink, shrink, shrink..!” Sammi had begun to chant.
“Help him out of his clothes,” Emily directed.
“Pull his pants off,” Laura agreed, “He’s swimming in them…”
“Omigod look at him,” someone said.
“This is exciting for him…”
“Cracked a fattie there, eh?”
“He loves this..!”
“They all will..”
Okay it’s done.
He’s naked.
And he’s tiny.
And with the realization, he let out a choked scream.
They all leaned in.
Scared, Sam looked to his right, and gasped. Sofia’s face crowded his sky. Her brown eyes scrutinized him, her crooked smile seemed ready to laugh. Her eyes were so big and so close that Sam could make out the finest details of her makeup, dark eyeliner, and every bolt of color in her irises. Each one of her eyeballs were half the size of Sam’s entire head. Her deeply rich lipstick was shiny and wet looking. As he began to gibber he saw her expression of fixated fascination shift into a terrifying, satisfied smile. I have become so powerful.
It was Laura, first, who reached out to touch him. The now-blonde woman took her hand and laid it onto his bare chest, not saying a word. Her palm spanned his whole torso, she noted, cocking her head as she regarded the comparison. Her fingers - nearly the length and thickness of his arms - could wrap…
“You’re now just about eighteen inches in height, Sam,” Ashleigh, from his left, spoke, “can you stand?”
Laura leaned back, slowly removed her hand. The whole table watched.
Sam was looking up now at Ashleigh, his eyes meeting her huge ones. He tried to find his voice, tried to form words. He tried to ask: ‘why?!?’ But his body was already complying to her question, to her request. He was, struggling, slowly getting his bearings, gradually getting his feet underneath him. He rose, shakily, from sitting, to a crouch, and then - finally - to stand.
And then he ran.
Suddenly, Sam scrambled, running towards the end of the table thinking in his panic maybe if I can jump down and run and get aw-
A pair of enormous breasts, as tall nearly as he, slammed down onto the table, right in front of him. His eyes went wide.
“Where do you think you’re the going?” Morgan taunted from above, with a sudden, unpleasant laugh that boomed like thunder. The full bodice of her chest, cleavage in her red dress, blocked his path.
Sam looked this way, and that way, stepping left but now Bianca’s bosom, swollen up over the neckline of her strapless lilac dress, crashed onto the table in an earthquake of huge, jiggling flesh. She laughed in kind. He turned around - Sammi. She cackled, and her boobs utterly ballooned forward, swelling her black dress and nearly slamming into Sam as she, also, dropped them into the table as she shape-shifted right towards him.
Surrounded on three sides by breasts the size of cars, he ran the other way, towards the opposite end of the table, towards the wall. What did he think he could do? Maybe leap onto and over Sofia’s shoulder and jump over the seat back?
But Emily’s hand came down onto the table in front of him, as he ran, palm facing toward him, forming a barrier nearly as high as his mid-thigh. He stumbled to a stop, almost colliding with her hand, and turned around again. Immediately he was faced with another hand slamming onto the table , another barrier. It was Laura, and she raised her hand and her fingers began to curl, moving to wrap around him and he stepped back away from them, turning to run again in the opposite direction as she laughed behind him. But now Ashleigh’s cleavage loomed at the edge of the table, pale, voluptuous, and tightly contained in her black, button-up dress.
Sam froze, faced with it, and - finally admitting defeat - fell to his knees. Laura’s hand was behind him, and he saw those of Emily and Bianca closing in on him slowly from the sides. With nothing but Ashleigh’s monumental torso in front of him he knew he was trapped.
He was, as the girls around him laughed, still reeling from what had just happened to him, struggling to accept his new size. On his knees in the center of the table, he looked around, bewildered and frightened. He was so small now, less than a third the size he’d been thirty minutes prior. He looked forward. Ashleigh’s large breasts seemed to dwarf him; he was now a mere toy, eighteen inches…maybe less.
He watched as Ashleigh began unbuttoning the top of her dress.
“Oh, Sam. Sam Sam Sam,” Ashleigh began, as she watched him watching her, watched him as he watched her undo the buttons - slowly, one-by-one - that contained her big, beautiful breasts in her dress. She loved how his little face stared, how his tiny eyes goggled at her giant cleavage, rapt as it was revealed inch by inch to him where he kneeled, as if in reverence. It said so much of the new world to come. “We’ve shrunk you, Sam. We’ve shrunk you to your final size. We could do more-”
“Omigod we’d love to…” someone breathed.
“...but this is where you’ll be, for the rest of your life,” Ashleigh continued, her voice deeper, booming and rich to Sam’s tiny little ears, “A helpless, shrunken thing in the care of women. Do you admit to our powers?”
Overwhelmed, overcome, and knowing he was - yes - completely helpless, Sam cast his eyes downward and nodded. These women could do anything they wanted with him, and he felt them all closing in behind him.
“So, Sam, I have a question for you,” Ashleigh began again. She’d come to the last of her buttons, one which was midway down her chest, and she casually spread the neckline wider. Her giant tits swelled out towards him; he saw she was wearing a pretty yellow bra. “Earlier tonight, we gave you true sight, so you could see us as we truly are, how we see ourselves, how we see the world. We took away the haze that’s been obscuring your vision for so long, and the glamours we’ve blanketed over you.”
Sam nodded, understanding exactly what she meant, as unbelievable as it sounded. That’s why things have been so…scary, here, he knew.
“So you have a choice, one we can give you here,” Ashleigh continued, as the sisters around him pulsed and throbbed and began to groan and moan in low growls and hisses, “Do you want to live like this, do you want to be able to see us like this from now on, know what we're going to do, know what we're capable of?” As if on cue, the aura around Ashleigh broadened, sharpened, began to almost appear as a dark set of wings spreading from her back. “Or do you want to go back to what you were when you stepped into this female celebration, when everything was nice and calm and soft and allllll the pretty mommies were there to take care of you...?"
“We all want to be your mommy, Sam…” came Laura’s voice in a purr, the warmth of her hands behind him like a cradle.
“You don’t need to remember any of this…” Emily spoke, her own huge hands flexing aside him, to his left.
“It can be so nice…” said someone else.
“You could live blissfully at a woman’s enormous breast from now on, forever sweetie,” Ashleigh cooed, “or you could stay like this, naked and afraid, helpless and scared while you watch the world you know crumble, while you watch us tear down the old ways, as you struggle everyday with how insignificant you’ve become.” Her breasts swelled up and down, up and down, each filling breath in her unbuttoned dress seeming to make them grow larger and larger and larger in front of poor little Sam. “What do you want, Sam?” she asked, “What will it be?”
Sam knelt there, frozen, as the huge women hovered around him. They watched as he considered his choice, pride wrestling with pleasure, ego and identity with arousal and the driving urge he’d had to just…sink.
Now Ashleigh began to move her hand towards him, opening it aside his thin, kneeling form. He didn’t run, or struggle, when her thumb slid in front of his torso, her fingers behind his back. Her hand had met him at his side, and began to close around him. It was a strange feeling, being grasped, in one hand, by another human being. It made him feel even smaller still, even more helpless and fragile and weak. But, as her huge, strong fingers wrapped around him, slowly curling nearly all the way around his entire body, it also brought on other feelings. There was a comfort in it, a sense of protection. A stronger being bringing a weaker one under its lee, into the shelter of its own, larger body. Which feelings would he embrace? Would he resist? Or would he submit?
Ashleigh, now with Sam Packer, Junior Investigator for the FDA’s Second Division of Non-Prescription Drugs, fully in her grasp, slowly lifted her hand, lifted him, easily off the table. His legs dangled out below her grip, his arms and shoulders cleared it above. He held onto her for support, one hand on her thumb, the other where it met her own hand, as he felt the ground give out below him. She lifted him slowly to her face, while the other women at the table watched, purring and clucking and the electricity of their auras quietly crackling and bubbling, swirling around them all.
“So what do you think, hm?” Ashleigh asked him, her pulse racing as she watched him take her in, appreciate her frightening, overwhelming beauty. He was inches away from her face. She must look so huge, like a she-titan, mouth big enough to swallow his head. She’d heard of this, of men who were small enough to be held like toys, changed into cretins deep in KOLECTV’s labs. But she’d never had the opportunity to do this herself, hold a human man in her hand, his life at the mercy of her strength. “What do you think, being in my hand like this, knowing that I could crush you? Knowing that I might-”
Suddenly, she gnashed her huge white teeth at him, snarling, causing him to recoil in terror.
“...eat you?” she asked, the excitement evident in her voice. She drank in his cowering fear like the sweetest wine. “Hm? Is that how you want to live? Conscious of the world but always afraid we might-”
And then, all the girls roared, Ashleigh included. Again Sam cowered, seemed to shrink right there, as the world around him was filled with their collective, unholy bellow. He was afraid for his life; they seemed like beasts, demonesses, avenging queens from some dark pit of hell, he a mere mortal - and the smallest of them, at that.
Ashleigh laughed, looked down her nose at him as she tilted her chin up. “So, Samuel Packer, do want to stay like this…or do you want to be happy?”
Sam, his heart still racing, his mind still reeling, looked up at her. And she looked at him. He didn’t need to say anything; the answer was in his eyes.
“Good boy,” Ashleigh said, rewarding him with a smile.
After that, it didn’t take much, just a slow blink of her eyes and a thought. In front of his very eyes, Ashleigh’s face changed, softened. The miasma of tendrils, the wisps of eldritch aura that had hovered around her dissolved, dissipated. Looking into her eyes no longer felt like he was gazing into some stygian depths, or into the gaze of a jungle predator. The feeling of her huge hand around him went from like being in the grip of giant she-fiend set on world domination to the embrace of a friend, a some-time lover, a woman who-
He looked down at her breasts.
Sweet Mary Mother of God, he marveled, taking in as if for the first time the beauty of the female breast, the magnificence of the maternal. She was so huge, so perfect, so soft. Her breasts were each nearly as large as he was, and certainly weighed more. She was young, perfect, unblemished. Smooth creamy skin, curves that went beyond alluring to the awe-inspiring. This is incredible…
“Therrrrrre we go,” she chuckled, seeing the change on his face as he came, once again, under the spell of her mind-bending bosom. The girls around her, too, began to giggle, to cluck and coo as they could see what was happening. He’d surrendered, acquiesced, crumbled; another man was down, an offering to the cause. She lowered him, presented her breasts to him, filled his world. “Now everything’s okay, right sweetie?”
“Oh my god yessss….” he moaned, entranced even further as his vision was now all chest, bringing another titter from the girls.
“Mmmmhmmhmmm…” Ashleigh purred, in a subtle little laugh, knowing now what she must do next. “You are so very, very small now, pumpkin,” she spoke, caressing Sam’s naked chest with her thumb. She’d felt his cock already, trapped against his belly in her closed fist, swollen to life, “You’d be quite a spectacle to all the other girls out there, at the party…”
“They’d all want to see you…”
“They’d be amazed…”
“They’d want to hold you, too…”
“And kiss…”
“And snuggle…”
“So we have to be careful,” Ashleigh continued, her voice a strong, tender prayer coming down on him from on high, “We have to keep you safe. When we lower the glamour here, we can’t have anyone else seeing anything…”
“They’re not ready…”
“They wouldn’t understand…”
“We’re going to have to hide you,” Ashleigh continued, drawing him, now, closer to her bosom. Her free hand went to the gaping neckline of her dress, two fingers pinching it at the seam.
“Do it, Ashleigh…” Laura spoke, watching as Ashleigh began to pull the hem forward.
“Yeah do it…” Sammi echoed. Her eyes were pulsing, violets and green, seeing Ash raise him a bit, watching as she got his feet above her bodice.
“Put him in there…” Emily urged, feeling the tug, the drive, the yearning to do it herself, as she watched her coven-mate, her sorority sister position this little man, angle him just so, as the look of confusion swam across the man’s little face...
“I think you’ll need to go on the inside of my bra…” Ashleigh mused, now also tugging on the lower seam of her big underwire bra, butter yellow, between where the cups met.
“Oh god yes that’s so hot,” Bianca growled, watching his eyes go wide as he realized what she was suggesting.
“Okay,” Ashleigh smiled, her voice an indulgent purr now that she’d lifted her bra just enough away from her ribcage, “In you go…”
At that, Ashleigh began to lower Sam, a man, down into her body. Despite his surrender, despite the charms they had on him, he still struggled a bit, like a small animal panicking, being brought to its cage. But Ashleigh could easily overcome his little ruction. His feet, his legs, though they kicked a bit, slid easily in down first between bra and skin, and then down the smooth flesh of her abdomen. She felt his little toes rub against her lower belly, and she sat up straighter to ease his insertion, allowing the bra to snap back into place, trapping him. He was naked, now strapped to her, and she felt his erection push into her sleek skin as well. The rest of his body, his torso, she pressed in, now, between her breasts. His shoulders cleared the upper swells of her bosom, bulged high by her supportive bra, and she arranged his little arms across them, right and left. To quell his struggles she slid his wrists under her bra straps and tightened them a touch, trapping them and his hands to her just below her shoulders. He was immobilized, now, which was good. They couldn’t have anyone out there see him squirming, haha.
Sam, in his submissive fog of compliance, slowly became less agitated. At first frightened, now the feel of Ashleigh’s firm flesh had a calming effect, and the warmth of her soft skin soothed him. Yes, he was trapped to her, and yes the indignity of it - strapped into a girl’s bra - should be a horror, but the deeply human scent of her pacified him, and he began to make peace with the moment.
“I’m going to miss you,” Ashleigh spoke, softly down to him as, with him all settled in, beginning to quiet, she returned her attention to her dress, “I can’t believe you have to go already.” She adjusted the fit of her dress over him, down low. It was nicely elastic material, this black dress. Soft. Perfect for this.
Sam, feeling the material of the dress around him shifting, sliding towards him, had begun shaking, quivering, overwhelmed by the moment and the thought of what she was about to do next. He was strapped to this busty young woman by her bra, surrounded by her soft female flesh and doing everything in his willpower not to rut into her like a small dog.
“I had such fun with you…” she continued as, with casual confidence, she began to button herself back up. She felt Sam stiffen; she knew he realized what she was doing.
“Making you smaller…”
Button.
“Taking your size…”
Button.
“Making myself bigger…”
His entire lower body, to his lower back, was now hidden from view. Another button closed, and he disappeared some more.
“Your flight is tomorrow morning,” she continued, adjusting the clingy stretch of her dress over her large breasts, making sure his arms couldn’t be seen, “We have a lot to do tonight…”
Sam felt like he was being wrapped up.
“Getting you ready for your new mommy…” someone else spoke.
“Your new life…” said another.
Ashleigh buttoned up some more…only two to go. Already his head was really the only thing that cleared her neckline.
“You’ll be spending a lot of time like this when you get home, I’m sure,” Ashleigh promised, “Nice and warm against mommy.”
Sam felt two of Ashleigh’s free fingers on the back of his head, gently pressing his face to her collarbone. He turned at the neck to his left, his right cheek now against her skin.
Another button, and his head was gone. He was sealed in, sharing her dress with her, strapped and plastered to the indulgent comforts of her body by her bra. One more button, and her dress was high-necked and sealed, all the way up. No one would know there was a little man in there with her. Sam, through the filtered light through the material of her dress, could still stare at the shadowed swell of her right boob, her bulging upper breast. He moved his head a fraction, and kissed her flesh.
Ashleigh smiled, feeling his little offering of supplication. She laid her hand on him, through her dress, felt his little body shaking. She wasn’t sure if he was fucking her chest, getting himself off inside her bra, or just shivering in excitement…it didn’t matter. She could clean him up later.
“Are you ready, ladies?” she finally asked her little coven, as she stood from her seat, “Let’s go get a drink…”
===================================