“It’s not my fault if your cleavage is right in front of me.”

“You’re at it again, buster.”

She looks at me in the mirror opposite her (we can see each other that way, while I lean against her neck and have a good view of the chessboard). She’s frowning now. I know I’m getting on her nerves. I have this effect on her when she’s cornered. I smile angelically to her.

From pushing the wood with a casual hand, I slowly had to lean more and more forward to get to the far end squares, raising myself from the stack of books on my chair. Eventually came a day when I sat crossed- legged on the table, with a moody face, looking over the “shoulders” of my king and queen to see the attackers beyond. A huge hand was hovering over the pieces as I directed Noeleen to move a pawn.  Far above me, her face was also hovering, like a vast painting, beautiful to me eyes, and sometimes animated by an expression of glee or doubt. Today we have settled for the romantic version of the game I guess, both looking in the same direction, as I sit snugly against her slender neck and  we battle it out from the same vantage. 

           The stakes today are pretty high. Ruthlessly taking advantage of a moment of weakness (after my will power was mellowed by a lazy visit in the shadows of her skirt this morning) she made me promise I would not object to any of her desires today, should she win this game. Now, therein lies a difficulty:

I have all intention to surrender to any desire that my girl could have. I just have to look at her gigantic and yet slender body and at her pretty face, or to listen to her overwhelming voice, to propose immediate surrender to her wishes. But ever since the day I met her, I have never really been able to second guess her. And knowing the extravaganzas she’s capable of. I am worried I may have sold my soul to a hungry demon.  So be it what it may, I am fighting my ground. In my back, I feel a vein beating deep into Noeleen’s neck, as the warmth of her soft skin is surrounding me and sending me in a dangerous slumber. Behind me the flagrant wall of silky hair, is like the enclosing partition of some amphitheatre. When she takes a sip of her cup of tea, I watch above me the ceiling of her huge jaw move slightly while a huge gulp and liquid tremor travel down her throat to my position. This now is a total concentration wrecker, but it keeps me at least from completely falling asleep in the silent heat of the day. (Our trip to our friend’s pool* seems far away already)

How could she? How could she possibly come up with this? I had every angles covered, my position was impregnable. Her fate was sealed, cast in iron, printed on the front page!  Or so I thought. Her sneaky knight came out from behind that useless pawn… I will be checkmate in four rounds.  I have insisted that she lets me down on the chessboard, where I hope my low angle will let me have a fresh outlook on the situation. This cannot be possible. Above me a beautiful face is staring down at me, framed by two exquisite hands (that could lift a truck, it seems) but marred by an unnerving smile.  I try to ignore this show of smugness, as I pace up and down in front of my soon-to-be decimated army, looking for the next exit. 

“Can I help you understand your plight, my brave knight?” Her long finger comes to rest on top of my king, slowly toppling him down. It falls heavily, at my feet like a lightning- struck log. Noeleen’s smile is full of teeth. I’m hers for the rest of the day…

I’m eager to find some land now. My boat is afloat, but the waves have taken their toll on my fragile vessel and I’m treading water enough as it is. My sight cannot penetrate the heavy fog ahead but I feel my goal is at hand. The waters are getting choppier now, a sure proof of land somewhere. Around me the fog is closing in and I cannot see the horizon behind me any longer. (Not that I had much of a horizon, but I do feel a poetic streak in my thoughts today). Now that my quest is reaching its climax, I feel in me the excitement, mitigated by my fatigue and hunger (I haven’t had anything to eat since…err....breakfast). My beard is sprouting all over my face; my muscles tense up.  I clench my jaw, my determination is ...hardening.

The fog is parting now, as I protect my eyes from the projections. I can hear the busy popping sound of the millions bubbles. Suddenly the boat stops and bumps into firm land. I push the cloud  away with my hands. (it pops and recede away from my contact)

The ground is soft and warm. I lie on it a second, feeling the soft currents under the surface. The fog is still thick around me, my feet are licked by an uneven tide that sends water sloshing around me. I need to reach higher ground. Grabbing my “lance”, I surge forward, directly through the heavy fog. A lot of me sticks to me now, and threatens to blind me. My eyes are no doubt all bloodshot now. But I will not relent. I’m not that type of a man,  that will cower away from his duty.

When I break free from the day dream, I am faced with the Task. “She’s got to be insane to ask me that”, I think. Still a game was won and lost. And there are consequences.

 I take the brush and begin scrubbing away the tanned belly of my gigantic girl. I feel underfoot the slight tensioning of her abdominals (she’s quite fit and her belly is tight and flat. The last time I called her “fat tub of lard”, with my usual playful tactfulness, she smiled at me, set me on a plate, and covered me in her favourite chocolate spread, before proceeding to demonstrate how terribly wrong I was).

I try to be careful no to push too hard on the soft skin, the tickles are serious business when one is standing on this moving ground. I launch myself wholeheartedly in my appointed task though, sparing no efforts. Noeleen is breathing calmly, relaxed  and happy on this sunny Sunday. (I realize that since she’s not going to work today, this game of ours could be a long one). As I near the slightly flattened hills ahead, a grumble comes from below my feet, as if some underground monster was waking up. I feel some motions down below where the enormous digestive track is lying.

It’s something to contemplate the beautiful curves of a girl’ belly, it’s quite another to be standing on it, small enough to actually fit in the unseen stomach below you. How strange it is to get on with one’s life and one’s relationship when the object of love is a big enough place for you to disappear into. I glance at Noeleen’s face up there. Good thing she’s no weirdo with a unholy appetite. I’d hate to see what would happen if she started to develop an active hatred of little me. (That’s not possible of course, at my size, I am positively “ adorable”).

My arms are straining now as I brush the curves of her breasts, in the august gesture of the window cleaner. Water splashes in rivulets over the tense skin  But inasmuch as I’m trying to be gentle with my large tool, they’re no denying we’re entering a softer ground here. I take the only sensible action to minimize discomfort to my girl: I rub and I rub and I rub and I run and … get lost in the motion, my eyes fixed upon the large nipple just outside my reach. I feel Noeleen’s heartbeats just right under my feet. I extend my brush a bit till it caresses the nipple above. After a few seconds, the beat under me is definitely changing. The nipple in question is also definitely changing.. Something in me is changing too.  I love my job.

I climb between her breasts, crouching on the hard breast bone, and I start cleaning the other breast. In front of me the vast body is lying, the knees high and far beyond. There is some sloshing of water in the tub, as this body suddenly gives a lurch. I glance back, and see the long neck of my girl stretching ever so slightly back. A lazy hand passes over my head (dropping some heavy water on me) to lazily settle, near her mouth.  Well, my handy work is being recognized obviously. I knew I had a vocation.  As I tackle the other nipple (this time from an above position), I see one of the thighs move and disappear under the water. Noeleen seems to be shifting her position in the bathtub. More splashing noises. Under me, the up-and down motion of her chest is not as gentle as it used to be. When I glance back my eyes meet her eyes, fixed upon me, a beautiful face looking straight down, a finger inserted between her pearly white teeth. (I guess her  ridiculous 56 toothbrushes per year is doing the trick) . I feel the warmth of her breath on my back.

“ Just doing my job, M’am. “ I retort, beckoning her with a gesture of the hand.

Some splashes on my left alert me to some big movement. A hand has appeared from under the water is and settling south, on the invisible hills that held some fascination for me a few minutes ago.

“Well… Just… giving you a helping hand.” She smiles back, as her body goes deeper in the tub, like a sinking atoll, blue water washing across the plain of her belly and silently covering it

I sit on the tanned skin, rhythmically using my brush on the tender breast next to me. My living island is now seized by an intense groundswell that makes it impossible to remain standing. I am mesmerized by the gradual opening of the thighs, now resting against either sides of the tub. The lower regions of the continent have become alive and are creating a rhythmic flow of tidal waves all across the mini-ocean. Some of the waves come dangerously close to the breasts and shoulders. An irregular hot breath is covering me from above. I am torn between the need to complete the important task at hand, and the urge to throw myself fully on this breast, or against this slightly open mouth. The pleasure current running through my little continent of a girlfriend  is incredibly contagious, and I can positively  feel the surges of electrical shocks under my feet. I’m breathing hard.

I am trashing next to a gigantic pink wall heaving up and down in the aftermath of the “catastrophe”. The water is made treacherous by the soap and buoyancy is a problem. I yelp when I see an enormous hip coming closer to me. It starts pushing me towards the white wall of the tub. I start swimming strongly against the slow moving cliff. I need to get to the curve of Noeleen’s waist. I’m very much sobered up from the fascination of sharing Noeleen’s orgasm, and my heart is pounding hard. The awakening is shocking to me, turned in one second from master of this huge body (I did initiate this event after all with my little tool) to an insignificant piece of flotsam about to be carelessly crushed under the rosy hip of my girlfriend. I shout now, as the space narrows between the skin and the enamel.  Damn it.Three meters left  ... Two meters left…

“Hush” she says, as her hand is picking me up and setting me on her belly. Her breathing is slowing down. “Why are you shouting like that? I knew you were there, you silly.”

“Well M’am, may I inquire if you need further servicing from our fine establishment?" I ask my girl.

“ It’s  quiet a coincidence you mention this, I do believe a firm scrubbing of my back is in order now, thank you” Noeleen  answers in the post orgasmic voice of an air hostess. She turns round, holding me in her hand, and cautiously sets me on her shoulder, near a wet curtain of brown hair. From my vantage, I now see two newly-born islands, round and tremulous in the dimmed light, emerging from the blue lagoon where all foam has now disappeared. I can follow the curves of the vast body under the water till it emerges just under the first long strands of hair running in her back. Mmmm this is going to be tricky. I hope there’s enough left of chimpanzee in my genes and grab some hair. A long pendulum brings me back to the centre of the steep slope where I start my toil and duty…………………..

I sit on the edge of the bathtub. The fantasy islands are gone, the sea is gone too. Just a vast expanse of whiteness. In front of me, I can nearly touch the hollow of Noeleen’s knees as she dries herself, standing now like a naked goddess. A swoosh makes me duck. “Ow, watch it, your highness!” I shout as her towel nearly toppled me back in the tub. “Oups, sorry, honey.” Above me, the majestic towers of her thighs are abruptly interrupted by the jutting roundness of her backside. Vast movements animate now my favourite Statue of liberty. (I feel a certain smugness sipping in at the thought that I regularly visit this live monument to beauty.)

My size and strength should place me slightly below the jellyfish in the grand scheme of things, yet I am at a par with this wondrous creature. Just thinking about the fleshy earthquake I helped creating early on makes my little ego swell to enormous proportions. In my mind I’m holding my girl in my ample arms. ... But then she picks me up like she would her toothbrush.

            “Oh my hero, my sweet prince” she says , bringing me in front of her luscious lips. Her skin is wet and golden in the yellow candle light. Her eyes shine with a little dancing glow . She’s the most gorgeous  face ever  and ….  “You look so terribly idle here, my lord.”

nostromo

“You’re really pushing it, you know that?” I grumble/ shout to the huge reclining girl. She’s sipping yet another cup of tea, swallowing gallons of the stuff (the size of her bladder is an amazing concept to flirt with). “Hush” she says with a smile, while an enormous hand comes hovering above me and a large finger pats me in the back. “Don’t lose your concentration, you’re doing great.” 

Seeing an object the size of large SUV floating an inch above one’s head is not a sight to take in lightly. The sheer weight of this hand is in itself a serious matter for concern. It took me quite a while to get comfortable with these giants things flying at full speed around me. During the first months of the Shrinking, I would wince sometimes at a fast gesture above. I know, this is my girl, she will never hurt me. Yet it took some doing to consider her massive body as matter-of -factly as I do today. I remember dodging often the vast swoosh of her ample arms as she leant forwards to catch something beyond my little shape. I remember her hurt look at times when she caught me wincing or backing away from her touch. I tried to explain Sarah that it had nothing to do with her, that it was really a reflex of my part. As our size difference increased, the grandiose show of her movements was at first just too impressive to contemplate.

 I sometimes wonder if things could have been different for me. If my love for Sarah wasn’t rooted at molecular level in me, what would have happened then? Would I have started to consider her (and other people) as monsters, forever out my reach and understanding, vast menaces in an even more threatening world? Would this all rigmarole have turned into a formless nightmare? After all, at her size the slightest error from Sarah could have me splattered against her skin or shoe in a forgetful second. I shudder at the remembrance of the severe depression I suffered from during the first months, losing my job and my future, when the world was slowly changing into a vast universe of giant shapes and losing both its familiarity and safety.  I realize now I could very well have gone insane, alone and scared in a world of giants. Noeleen protected me from that. 

I hold on to the large pole, and climb on the book till I come level with the open bottle top. The spirit flagrance is overwhelming, stinging my noise and making my eyes water. I dip the pole in the light pink gooey stuff. And I climb down my book (the fiend gave me this prop to help me get the nail polish and its title is adequate enough: “The incredible shrinking man”. This girl just does not have one ethical bone in her vast body). I fight the weight of the brush and lifting it with all my strength, I let it drop on the nail of her big toe. I ‘m a perfectionist and make sure nothing touches her skin. Next to me the toes rest firmly on the smooth tiled surface, like a herd of sleeping animals. The foot itself is flat and immobile (though inner movements are visible), a whale of a foot, the kind of foot that inspires respect and even awe. My girl could crush anything it seems under this massive foot. At times, when I watch her walking around in our house, her giant feet seem so unstoppable, they look like instruments of doom. I always apply caution in the house. I have seen insects disappear in a crunchy noise under her foot, reduced to a stain under her sole, sometimes sticking to it as she keeps walking unaware of the tiny drama (she’d cried if she knew) and I’m well aware this is one of the most plausible accident that could befell me during our life together.

Yet the toes I’m painting right now are undeniably feminine, well shaped, and flagrant  and sexy at the same time. Although I do not have much in me of religious fervour, standing next to her feet like this, is akin to me as being close to one of these giant Buddha statues, and I feel sometimes an inch away from sending her a prayer.( I usually send her a wink, that is enough)   

In front of me now a long , very long, and extremely huge leg is stretching in the distance, the knee high above me, like an improbable hilltop. I like Noeleen’s legs, they are awesome to scale up and down, and so soft they are. (Her epilating budget could sink a small country, I like to remind her once in a while).  The toenail is nearly done now. The surface glistens, and the pink colour is tearing at my eyes. Man, how long will this stuff stay on her? I sigh. She suddenly wriggles her toes, which takes me by surprise. I stumble back away from this moving boulder of a toe and the brush falls on my feet. A shadow covers everything: Noeleen’s massive chest and head are now right above me, her naked breasts hovering close as she leans forward to see the damage. She smiles gleefully at my now shiny pink feet. “You’re silly, she says, this just doesn’t match your eyes. You should have asked me.” She blows on me, accelerating the drying of the stuff that cakes my feet, to my great dismay . (She blows on her toe now as well, acknowledging my handiwork.). Her breath is very hot, from the tea she’s drinking, and scented too, I feel my hair being brushed away under this warm gale. Above, the lips that produced it are rounded now, and shining red (Noeleen is going for a tart day, I can see it coming, and she does it just to annoy me, I’m sure), her mouth is reduced to this massive muscular ring in which I could easily insert my whole body. Her face is really close and while she checks the damage on her toe, I have plenty of time to admire the roundness of her cheek, the straight noise, the liquid flow of her brown hair, and the amazing brown eyes where the reflection of a tiny man is a reminder of my plight.           

While she dries her toes, I walk around her foot, which places me right under her ankle. Above, the long slope of her calf reaches high, an delightful arch to admire, and I can’t help but follow the abundant flesh of the underside of her thigh, as it leads me twenty of my meters to the vast base pillar on the floor. Next to it, Noeleen’s crotch, at the base of a wondrous rosy cliff, is tempting me badly again (she wears rather thin and lacy white panties today) . On my left, the long expanse of her outstretched leg on the floor is now like a hill closing my horizon, overwhelming in its sheer mass.           

“Aaaaahh! A bug !! Ewwww!!!” I turn round, suddenly scared, looking for the offending beastie, but can’t see any.” Where? Where? ” I stutter. Up in the sky, a pair of giant brown eyes is fixed upon… me.  The giant arch above me is suddenly collapsing. I have moved toward Noeleen inner thigh, and the soft flesh is now closing onto me. With a yelp, I have time to jump just out of reach of the massive thigh. I hear the loud smack of the flesh touching the bathroom floor just behind me as I land flat on my belly, in the dark canyon left between her now resting thighs. The wind of the expelled air is washing over me.  Still lying on the floor, I turn my face up to…          

  “Oups, I missed it. Clever buggie!” A vast giggle seems to float in the air, as the wall of flesh next to me is slowly lifting.  The shadow slowly covers me as I see the pink flesh is coming  right over me and starting its engulfing descent. I yelp again “Noel….” But the flesh settles on my body, my face presses hard into he soft scented thigh, and as the weigh is settling down, pressing every inch of my body, I can only close my eyes. Everything is black. I cannot breathe. I feel the heat of Noeleen’s thigh on my body; I feel the course of her blood in the veins close to me. In the next few seconds , I take stock of my helplessness, stuck as I am under her thigh, a mere little thing with no strength or will that she could feel, totally given to her power, and that she could squash slowly without even the slightest effort. As my lungs start their craving for air, my mind is bizarrely distracted by the situation, as if aloof, and I perceive that somewhere, this is more that just play for me, but a definite arousal. Still, the seconds are piling up a bit too quickly, I find….         

    “Okey, the buggie is flattened now”, comes her muffled voice. As the thigh lifts off and moves aside, it is replaced by a smiling giant face. I do not move, making a good impression between a dead body and a flapping fish. (She did leave me there for quite a while, and my chest is heaving). “All flat and tidy”, says my insane girlfriend.           

  “Noeleen, I swear today to take my revenge upon you and your race, in the name of all us bugs who perished at your whim. Just you wait a bit and then I’ll….”“Ow, it’s moving still!”That now throws me back on my feet. I start recoiling from the huge wall and eventually start into a run towards the open space near her feet, when I see the thigh rising again in the air. A shadow covers me, and the large pincer of her two fingers gently lifts me, my feet still treading air. (Damn, I hate when that happens, I know I must look like a cartoon character, but that makes her laugh). “Now, now, don’t get upset, you started to wander away from your appointed task, my knight. That called my severest displeasure. On you go now”, and she deposits me back in front the last untouched toes of her right foot.

“Noeleen, this is all very well but frankly, this is getting a bit tiresome and, to be true, I don’t like this colour “ ( I glance briefly at my own feet, coated with the stuff).“Any other day, I would have listened to your constructive criticism, I swear I would. But today is special, my love.” And she pats me closer to her toes with a finger. “On you go.” She blows me a giant kiss from above. I pretend catching it and falling under its weight (what a comedian…hum) and with a sigh, resume my choir. The brush is heavy with gooey paste and it’s not as easy as it looks, but after a while it’s just a matter of practice. And these ten huge toes have allowed me much practice. I grab another long string of white cotton and, asking Noeleen to lift her toes a bit I stuff the light material between the last two boulders. I’m being careful not to be caught between them, as turning into toejam is not exactly part of my plan for the future. As I resume the last painting job, the image of the prince charming comes to my mind. My Cinderella is barefoot, and I am about to slip a glass shoe on her beautiful foot to get to marry her (a subject that recently came up in our conversation again). Obviously in my story line, the prince, still smiling smugly in contemplation of the night to come, is smeared under the beautiful foot with a “I don’t think so, buster” from the cruel Cinderella and …“You going to finish this one, my love, or do you intend to keep this grin on your face for the rest of the day?”I blush. I don’t know if Noeleen would approve of my fantasies. Sending her a big smile, I retort: “Noeleen, I was remembering our first dates together” and in a masterly sweep of the brush, I give the “coup de grace” to the last toe.         

    I’m awfully glad to close this polish bottle. It took me quite a while to accomplish the deed and the vapours have given me a slight headache. I step back to admire the works, those ten wriggling toes, now covered in reflective pinkness. My, that was quite a piece, and my shoulders will remember that tomorrow, I know that. “Thank you” she says with a  smile. I step back even further. I need to take in this image a bit more. She’s reclining against the bathtub, wearing nothing but her white panties. Her arms are now crossed over her legs. This mountain of tanned, soft flesh is my girl, I have to remind me of this. After nearly four years of Shrinking, I still feel I should pinch myself. I have to crane my neck to see her face high above, her chin resting on her knees. In front of me the toes have been freed from their cotton reigns and are now above me, a wild wriggling bunch. Two enormous soles (hardly wrinkled at all) are facing me. On the floor, my shadow is struggling to cover even quarter of a tile.

We face each other in silence for a minute. She seems to be examining my minute body and shape, this weird little thing at her feet. I can sense her eyes drilling into my small frame. Being watched so intently by a being so much larger than you is also one of these sensations that the Shrinking introduced me to. This creature is my friend; she knows what I think, what I feel and she knows I’m a person, in spite of my size. But still, the sense of absolute domination is never far away. After all I had the unfortunate experience to be looked at by a woman who saw nothing in me but food to ingest. The remembrance of Helen’s cold eyes on me I something I will never forget. Noeleen is looking at me with a strange spark in her eyes and for the first time perhaps, I have this sense of … danger again, in the total stillness of this well lit bathroom. I feel suddenly really exposed in front of the massive shape of my girl, and involuntarily protect my privates from her sight. 

“Err, Noeleen, I know I am a fascinating sight for any woman with good taste, but… would care to tell me what exactly is on your mind?” She seems to be waking up from some day dream. Her eyes are gaining on intensity even as she speaks now: “You know, today is my day isn’t it?”

“Yeah, sure, you earned it all right, sweetie. I’m all for it.” (Who am I to contradict this fragile young girl?)“Well, there’s something I’d like to do now, but I don’t know if that’s going to be too much of your liking.” A hungry smile start spreading across the shiny lips.

“Noeleen?”She starts unfolding her giant body, her legs carrying her chest and head to an impossible height. I feel like I’m shrinking again, under the vast shadow. Her hand is reaching for me. 

Part III 

“Could someone please explain to me why exactly I care for this girl?”
I am sweating like a pig in the afternoon’s heat. My back is all wet and slimy. I feel like a wriggling slug. I can’t see much but the motion of the vast curtain in front of me: large motifs of butterflies, blue and red on a white background, coming and going.  Very trendy. Very chic. She’s wearing her best today.
I remember when she bought that mini-skirt, in this horrid little shop in the mountains. It was the most garish piece of clothing in the place: I knew she’d have to have it. Now I look at it fixedly, as it flies away from my face and then comes back with a vast rustling sound. On it goes, back it comes.

My nose is itching too. I wish I could scratch a bit with my hand, but my hands are somewhere around, stuck against Noeleen’s hot skin. It’s all right; I can still scratch my face against the hard nylon that covers it  (and my body). Now. That’s better. 
The motion is suddenly accelerating. I hear the loud noises outside. Cars are passing by. Honking. We must be at an intersection. The sudden shuffling and hardening in my back tells me Noeleen is trotting to go across the street. I feel her thigh muscles tensing and relaxing all around my body. The curtain of her mini-dress is my only horizon. But if I really push hard forward and then look down through the gauze, I can get a glimpse of the impossibly long leg I’m stuck onto, and every second, on my right, I can watch an enormous thigh passing by, and then receding in a rustle of nylon.

One hour ago:

“Noeleen, are you’re aware of the Geneva Convention?”
The giant face is frowning at me; a sultry look comes and goes in a flash, while a determined smile replaces it. “Please, pretty please, you said you’d agree!!” She’s also very excited and I watch in awe, perched on the edge of the desk, as her massive frame passes by. The tremors of her movements are shaking me, and I grip the wooden edge I’m sitting on. (The void under me is quite impressive, even after my long practice in chasm gazing). Noeleen is struggling now to put an another pair of panties, her huge buttocks coming dangerously close to me, when she bends forward, two large orbs rushing in my direction... I watch as the silky fabric shoots up her thighs and comes hugging her beautiful ass. Ah, the wonder. The wonder.

But then she goes to the drawer and picks up the blue nylon stockings. She looks at me, seems to hesitate, and then comes closer to the desk, her hand inside one of the legs, like a strong animal in a net. “Okay, darling, you ready for this?”
“Noeleen, honestly, I don’t know. This is going to be so hot in there…. Can’t I just come along in your bra? What’s the deal with changing our routine?”
“Because that’s just that: changing the routine.”
Her face is so close to me now, as she bends forwards, that I could nearly touch her lips. “I just… want you there for a while. I mean, it’s … making me feel… well … good, I guess. Knowing you’re down there with me, as I walk in the streets…. Mmmmm. Come on, it will be  a thrill”.
Now there’s a kink I had not yet seen in my playful girl. And me who was thinking she was generally just indulging me. I realize that our size difference is as much an excitement for her as it is (most times) for me. Of course this is immediately titillating my… less intellectual side. And I have to relent. “Okey, but if it’s too uncomfortable, we stop at once. Okey?”
“Sure, of course, don’t worry.” Her smile is five clicks long.

She steps into the leggings, one foot at a time. It hugs her wonderful legs and hips, sending silky shades on the long shapes. The top of the stockings stops some way under her navel and she rolls it back a bit (she wishes to shamelessly expose  her flat belly to the world, with a total lack of concern for my bruised feelings of jealousy, and is wearing her white tank top, bulging to the brim with her perfect sized breasts). I’m gazing up this enormous body, when her warm fingers gently grab me and lift me closer to her hips.
“In you go… there… tell me if its’ okey.” Her fingers slip me along her flagrant skin, past the panties, and my feet get stuck at her mid-thigh. Noeleen gently lets the fabric back on her skin, trapping me against her warmth. The nylon feels supple enough to me, although I’m surprised by the strong grip it has on my body. Through it I now face the underside of our desk, the edge I was sitting on earlier, now way above me.

The world rotates suddenly as Noeleen turns to face her mirror (a large one, the cumbersome present of a vain auntie…). We both get to gaze at our respective reflections. Noeleen takes poses, hands on her hips, checking her slender figure, and her long slim legs encased in shiny blue sheaths. As for me, well…, I stare at my little body reflected in the distance, a mere little lump in the cliff- face of her nylon-clad thigh, my little out-stretched arms and legs making it look as if I had crash-landed on her leg like a vulgar mosquito.

The nylon grip relaxes a bit, and I slide down a bit, my legs slightly bending now, my feet embedded in the squeezed nylon below. Above two large fingers have opened the stockings at the hips, and through the opening, I can see Noeleen’s face peering at me from far above.
“You OK, down there? Not too squeezed? Hihi, this is something to see you stuck like this. You’re now officially my favourite piece of clothing, tough guy!” she giggles.
“Yeah, yeah, keep talking. When I bite my way through your over-priced leggings, you’ll be sorrier than I am.”
“Wow, no really, I love to see you down here, don’t go anywhere, please!” She lets the nylon hug her hips with a smacking sound.

I gasp. The sudden lurching motion of the huge thigh behind me is pushing me forward with an incredible force. It’s as if a train has suddenly jumped a few meters ahead. I feel the tension in my back as the thigh becomes vertical, trillions of tons it seems resting behind me. When the thigh starts lagging behind, my vision goes downwards, towards the floor, and I sense the vast muscles pushing against me. The powerful lurch forward again, my body changing angle as the ceiling is coming into view. I realise the immense power behind this motion, yet I do not seem to suffer from the sudden changes (I guess the lightness of my body makes me far less vulnerable to inertia). Still the few steps have me going up an down and the alternance ceiling /floor is making me somewhat dizzy at first.

Noeleen comes to a stop in front of her chest of drawers. “You okey? Not too rough?” I’d wave back to her, but hey, I’m stuck like a bug in a plug.
“Hum… It’s sort of okey, bug-brain, but don’t you start jumping all over the pace, will you.”
“Goodie, goodie!! yo, smart ass, you can say good bye to the world!”

As she crouches to open the lower drawer, the thigh goes horizontal, the nylon presses even harder on my body and face and she smiles at me, as I watch her enormous torso and face hovering just above. Her breasts are closing on me, as if to crush me. (I do feel some insistent sensation down below at that impressive view…) Noeleen grabs the mini dress she purchased in spite of all reason and slip in it. The world goes vertical again, as the darkness of the butterfly-infested mini-skirt covers me.
“Time to go shopping you and I, my love. I’ll try and let you know what’s up.” I hear a kiss flying in my direction, as the fabric of the dress comes pressing on me and the vast lurching motions starts again.

Noeleen is walking out. For me, it’s a series of swinging movements, forward, backward, forward, in the hot darkness under her skirt. I feel the huge thigh pumping, an enormous machine carrying a terrifying weight. I am very much aware of the insignificance of my little body on Noeleen’s thigh. An absolutely negligible passenger, my presence is surely hardly felt at all by my girl.

I can imagine her now, walking in the street. She’s quite a looker, my little Noeleen. She has taken out her best weapons with this miniskirt and this tank top. I can well imagine her cruising through the crowd (well, what passes as a crowd in our little town), radiant as a little sun, squeezing past an alley of smiles and glances from the lads. I can imagine her long legs tracing a slim and graceful trail in the street, a flash of blue nylon under a lightly floating skirt, measuring out the world in graceful steps. She’s probably smiling this innocent smile of hers, beaming her white teeth at everyone around her, her hair floating about as in a shampoo ad. A pretty sight I’m sure. An uplifting sight even, one could say. Except maybe for the little lump hidden in the shadows of her skirt, sweating and squirming under the nylon, pressed into the soft skin of her inner thigh, and who is now reviewing again and again the treacherous move of a certain knight. (Hu ho, the little lump is slowly sliding down, with all these motions).

I hear Noeleen greetings some people she meets in the streets, and I hear their short replies, and sometimes their little chat high above me. But I hardly recognise the voices. I’m busy trying to prevent the slow sliding down towards the edge of the dress and the inner thigh, where a monstrous and fleshy thigh is passing dangerously closer and closer to me now. (Sometimes the nylon of her right leg grates against the nylon of “my” leg, in a terrific near-metallic sound.). Just above my head, as I progress unwillingly toward the inner sanctum of the skirt, I can see Noeleen’s massive crutch in the shadows, hugged tightly by her silky leggings. If I could stretch a bit further, I could nearly touch the lower rim of her panties.

The temperature is kind of rising up here. Although whiffs of air come from below (where far away feet are clicking away gaily on the very fast- moving sidewalk), the air around me is pretty hot and the relentless friction of the nylon leggings seem to spread more heat around. I am sweating more and more. Under me the street flashes past, Noeleen’s legs projecting hard shadows on the brightly lit concrete of the sidewalk and the skirt bumps in my face every time the thigh is rising forward. Street, skirt, street, skirt. Man, how did I ever come to accept to do this? It’s one thing to travel with a giantess, on her shoulder or in her bra, it’s another one to be stuck under her skirt and not be able to enjoy the scenery.  A strong sweaty smell is coming to my nose now, and I sense the slight layer of sweat between my back and her hot skin. 

 Noeleen has just met Nicola. Great. These two love to talk. I do not know for sure whether they actually listen to one another, but they sure talk, drowning the world in their endless chatter. All motion has stopped now, as Noeleen is talking with her friend. That gives me some sort of a breather. I may even have a chance to start thinking again, you never know. Well, until Noeleen suddenly decides to cross her legs…. I nearly yelp, when I see the massive thigh on my right coming closer, and closer, and closer, the bluish nylon wall slowly rising and coming over me, before slowly starting to press against me, sending me deep into my girl’s skin, compressed, stuck in the huge sandwich of her thighs, a little indent between the fleshy mounds.  The pressure is huge, but not insufferable, Noeleen is still standing after all. Still there’s very little air in here. Everything is silent, absolutely silent. I’m stuck in her flesh, in total darkness. It’s as if the world had disappeared entirely, as if she had suddenly grown to replace it all and I was embedded in the last niche of the universe.  Is she doing this on purpose or has she really forgotten my presence under the skirt? The pressure mounts again; my mouth is pressed into her thigh. I begin to seriously have doubts about this game…

Suddenly the thigh shifts back away to the right, I gasp and inhale the hot air like a half-drowned man. Far above the conversation is still going on, I hear laughter, and giggles, and more words. The noise of the street around is coming back, like a sudden flood, cars, dogs, voices; the world is rushing back into my pressure-deaf ears. A sudden lurch is sending my stomach in my mouth, as the thigh is moving again. We’re walking. As my heart is coming back to a more normal rhythm, I listen to everything. I hear Nicola offer Noeleen to share an afternoon ice cream. Oh goodie, I love ice-cream…

We walk some more minutes more; my ears are full of the great flapping sound of the skirt that moves around me. The heavy click-clack of Noeleen’s shoes down below is measuring out my life for now. All sorts of sounds come to my little ears from the street around us. I manage to start climbing up the leg a bit, to counter-act my slow sliding towards her knee. My head is getting closer to the ceiling of white panties that now arches over me. I’m way too deep now on the inside of her leg. I better start and climb back to the front. Too late. A ear-shattering screeching noise comes from very close. The chair is grating its metallic feet against the cement. I feel my position is coming to a horizontal stance, as Noeleen is now sitting down.

To my dismay, I watch her other thigh coming closer to me now. I have slipped so much towards the inside of her leg, that when she sits, the expansion of her flesh on the chair is bringing me right in a finely sandwiched position. I scramble frantically, my fingers grabbing the nylon grid in an attempt to pull myself along the leg, even as Noeleen sits. When the two thighs finally touch one another in the darkness of the skirt, I just about manage to have my head and my arms out of the squeezing zone. But only the upper part of my body is now in the relatively free space against Noeleen’s crotch. A sudden wave of claustrophobia is seizing me. It’s all so dark and hot and the pressure on my body is intense. For a second I fight not too shout at Noeleen. I can hear her voice, far above and Nicola’s voice too. Noeleen is ordering her favourite coffee ice-cream. Great, I’m glad she seems to be enjoying herself so much while I simmer an inch from her crotch in the confine of her skirt… Love is to share to share the moments. Yeah, right….

I try pushing my elbows into Noeleen’s skin; she needs to realize I’m stuck way too deep between her thighs, and not at all on top of one, as was intended. After a few minutes, while I listen to her slurping away her ice-cream (and get to listen also to Nicola later gossip news), I feel the thighs coming apart suddenly. Noeleen’s voice falters in the middle of a sentence. My little world is rocking for a few seconds, as Noeleen seems to open her thighs as wide as possible. Guess she has just realized where I was after all...

A rush of cool air and light comes now from the widening tunnel under her skirt. Her knees seem really far away, but the sudden opening of my vision is a welcome respite. All I see now is the vast length of both thighs, coming to an abrupt vertical end. The ceiling is made of the translucent canopy of the skirt where the butterflies have at last stopped their dance. An eerie light bathes my cave… And then I realise what I’m looking at outside….  Not very far way, directly in front of me, another cave seems to be opening. I can see knees, a deepening darkness along the thighs and yup, that’s official folks, Nicola is not wearing panties today, for some mysterious reason. (I should have paid attention to her banter above as I may have heard an explanation for this audacious move… but never mind that) I make a mental note not to mention to Noeleen she has unwillingly given me a very interesting insight into her friend’s… psychology.

Damn, I’d love some ice cream myself, soaked as I am in Noeleen’s sweat. I try to get some fresh air through the nylon net but the day is really getting hot and a musty smell of sweat is present all over my narrow grotto. I can’t help looking ahead (well, technically, at my feet) to this inviting region on the outside, where a naked Nicola is probably happy she did not put any underwear with this heat but is also blissfully unaware of my gazing at her down here. Even as a certain part of me starts awakening and fighting the nylon pressure, I realize a heady flagrance is slowly invading the enclosed place. At reaching distance behind my head, my favourite place in the world, although covered in a double barrier of nylon and fabric, is definitely giving off an aroma that is hard to miss for a sex-obsessed brain like mine. My little Noeleen must find this uncomfortable game a regular turn on. I’m sure her enjoying of the ice-cream is only heightened by the thought of her little boyfriend down close to her sensitive regions.  

Alone in the dark I’m seriously going to overdrive, with temptation all around me, and my arms and body firmly stuck all the same between the hot skin and this maddening net. Above the conversation is definitely taking a dreamy tone, and there is in Noeleen’s voice this very slight tang that only me could place exactly for what it is…the horny slut…she’s really happy with this.

It’s the first time Noeleen is actually exerting her power over me in this fashion. I remember the beginnings when the Shrinking became more than a hypothesis but rather a full-blown process. It took in fact very little time for the power ratio to shift from me to her. After all, even when I was reaching about to her shoulder, my body weight and proportions was already making a weakling of me. When I was reaching no higher than her hips, Noeleen’s body was already overshadowing me in size, sure, but mostly in power.

She was so strong to me, she could lift me as she would a child, but in truth I was weaker than a child. It was a stupendous development to me to see the girl that I swore to protect from all harm (yup, I did say that to her once, in the old fashion way, …but it was an inebriated moment, I’ll say in my favour), to see the girl I could hug in my arms, become so much larger and stronger than me. Hell, she could have dragged me across the street like an unruly brat; I could never have put up any fight. That never happened, we fought and had bad times, but she never ever touched me in any way that could harm me, or make me feel frailer. She never threatened me of any use of her physical strength. Of course the infamous incident of the Tampax box (* see the Pool) is a good reminder that she , at times,  knew how to “reason” with me…

Today, buried under her skirt in the middle of the day, pretty much against my will (although I ‘m just honouring the wager we had), ignored studiously in favour of a simple ice-cream, I do feel so radically insignificant. The sheer domination Noeleen is exerting today over my little self is overwhelming. Lets’ face it, for the next hours I’m hardly more than a piece of clothing. I’m just a… Hold on, I better put this in check. No use working up anger down there. I breathe in slowly. Relax…First, it’s a wager. Second, I know I could have said no. And third… Well, there’s a part of me that actually enjoys the situation. I know it, and I’m quite sure Noeleen knows it also. The view within my tunnel of thighs and skirt is not that unpleasant. Cheer up, man.

Above, the conversation topic is turning to me. Noeleen is telling  Nicola that I’m home, typing my infamous memoirs. I‘ve decided recently that since I wasn’t going to achieve fame through my brilliant acting and stunning looks, I’d be perfect as the new Hemingway  of the Nano-Generation (which I represent fairly well, given that I’m the only member). Noeleen says she likes what I wrote so far, and she seems to enjoy looking at me typing on my diminutive keyboard, but personally I find it hard at times to concentrate with a head the size of a house looking over my shoulder. I once told her she reminds me of my cat when it came sitting on my keyboard at the most crucial Dooming moment, but then she proceeded …to do just that. I’ve never complained since for some reason.

I’m really tempted to let out a mighty roar and put an end to the joyous banter above my head (especially not that a matter of size is being discussed gaily), but I know that would really embarrass Noeleen if I did. I can only be the silent witness to her afternoon tea. So I turn my gaze forward, toward my feet, and the incongruous sight way beyond, where an unknowing Nicola is revealing more than she knows to me. I’m just thinking that life isn’t so hard after all when the sudden collapse of the skirt canopy above me takes me by surprise in my reverie. (Noeleen, using her quasi telepathic powers must have guessed my thoughts, once again, and my somewhat restrained fervour is quashed in its infancy). I feel squeezed and pushed, and dragged along the sweaty skin by invisible fingers. The nylon covering me is sort of bruising my skin now. When the discreet, but firm gesture is over, the top of my head is pressed against Noeleen’s crotch. The treacherous fiend wasn’t helping me out at all!  She was just making sure I was situated closer to a region of interest.

I know how to read a hint. Although I would not try and put my hands under her panties (I’ve more room now, since the leggings are giving way in a graceful arch, that close to her body, and my face is free from the tight hug of the nylon at last). Claustrophobia is threatening, in the hot darkness, and I do feel so small under the massive proximity of this resting body, yet moved by my noblest instinct, I start fumbling around with my extended arms. I feel the silky fabric and when I push against it, I feel the soft flesh behind. Well, I think to myself, if the Lump has a job to do, he may as well do it properly.
“You all right?” asks a concerned Nicola to a shivering Noeleen.
“Sure, just a chill. Must be the ice cream. “, answers my devious girlfriend with a smile.
Hehe, the games we play…

.......................

I’m back to the front seat (or at least the front of her thigh, way from the dangerous criss-crossing of the enormous legs. Under me the ground has changed and I watch a forest of green flashing past, at it is squashed relentlessly under the massive feet. We must be in the park. I suffer patiently the long walk to the near-by trees. When I feel my body going horizontal again, and as the skirt’s fabric settles over my face, I know Noeleen has sat down in the grassy knoll (a place I took her often to, in a desperately romantic fashion; little did I know then that I would be visiting it again as a fashion accessory  .)

Light floods over me ,as the butterfly-infested fabric lifts at last like a giant theatre curtain. My eyes blink in the sunshine, and I find myself staring at the incredibly distant canopy of a mighty tree. A second later, Noeleen’s fingers find their way under the leggings and squeezing me pretty hard, extract me from my prison.  I ‘m lifted close to her huge face, her eyes examining me intently. God, it’s great to be out !.
“So, what did you think? This is great, aint’it?” clamours her Highness (her breath stills smells from vanilla and coffee)
“Plain brilliant, Noeleen, how the hell didn’t we think of this earlier?” I retort casually..
“Oh, I knew you’d enjoy this, and don’t pretend otherwise.” She holds me so close to her nose now, that she actually squints to see me. Call me weird, but I find that cute.
“Sure, I’d do that any day, I love wearing skirts, too.”
“Hey, learn to play chess and you won’t have to, sucker and by the …”
A definite noise breaks our conversation, Noeleen, cute as button, just let out a fart. She blushes (quite sight to see a bill board-size face changing colour).
 “Oups sorry, darling”
“Are ya preparing some kind of gaz-chamber for me next?!!” I yell in a frenzy.
“Oh, grow up, will ya !!”

tbc ?

nostromo

“Told you.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep grinning. Gives you a goofy face” I reply, annoyance and sarcasm oozing coldly from my high pitch voice and hitting her with the full force of a  drifting snowflake.  I grab the plastic edge and try to extract myself from the goo under her smiley gaze.
“Look, stop looking at me and go… shopping, will ya now?”
“Ow, come on, just because you’re the clumsiest bug on the planet does not lessen my devotion to you, sweet prince”
I guess she refers to the stunt I just failed to pull, as I was attempting to settle nicely on the brown dome of Noeleen’s head to dominate at last the green landscape of the park around us. A movement of hers has sent me screaming down her cheek and directly into the diet-bio-porridge-looking meal she was busy ingesting. (Noeleen always carries her food around, seemingly living in abject terror of a sudden shortage. Yet a lot of the stuff she eats would hardly feed a butterfly. The image of fat butterfly flutters into my mind and wanders away…). I feel her spoon sinking below me and coming to contact with my feet, , lifting me out of the flat Tupperware. From a lump on her nyloned thigh, I’m now a lump in her soup. This is my day of infinite glory.
“Hey, at least I’m not upset. I bet if I barged into your dinner plate, buster, you’d be more than a little put out. Not to mention flattened…” she giggles happily.
“Noeleen…”
“I don’t even complain about the totally unhygienic side of the operation. Did you wash your feet at least, before stepping in my food?” The rumbling laughter is shaking me, making my descent from the plastic container uncomfortable. I feel sticky and sub-human.
“Noeleen…”
“Na, don’t answer, it was a rhetorical question.”

My rehabilitation as a human being involves a very large mouth, a soft and twitching tongue, a vacuum-like space that sucks the living daylight out of me. And much slurps on my little body. I know Noeleen always enjoys that part. The less controllable part of me also does so, and as per usual, it doesn’t take long before I’m totally spent in her mouth. When I come out, the world is once again a fantastic place to live in, and the kiss I get from the humongous lips is putting me once more at the top of the food chain.

The very first time she put me to that test, I was totally grossed out. Come on, let face it, the warm saliva that sticks to every inch of your body is easily half an inch thick, makes your hair gooey, insinuates in your nose and mouth. You get to smell the biology of your girl’s stomach first-hand. And also you…

We were back from the pub. I was drunk, she was drunk. I felt horny as hell, Noeleen herself was as hot as can be a beautiful young female with too many drinks faced with the splendor of my diminutive body next to her.(Form an orderly queue, ladies, thank you) Something had to happen. Our love making was beginning to flourish again after the early difficult times the Shrinking had inflicted on our libidos. Sure, it had attained a new dimension, but to our contentment we had found that our sex life needed not bother about vulgar spatial relationships. Hell, I was in heaven from the very start. As for Noeleen, she had slowly discovered a certain kink in herself that seemed to accommodate pretty well the situation. And so we were that night, in the premises of a wondrous game. (Noeleen had shut me up at last with a languorous kiss, ‘cos in fairness I tend to blabber quite a bit when I’m drunk, and she had settled me on her luxurious breasts, with a definite squeeze). A few golden minutes had already passed in busy oblivion when:

“I have the munchies.” Noeleen said, interrupting my bliss over inspecting closely her left breast.
I glanced toward the vast expanse of her naked belly. Her navel winked at me, and everything seemed in order. No growling there. (Some gurgles, yes, but the beer accounted for that)
“Sweetie, You’re just drunk, and it’s late, you’re not gonna start cooking now, are you?” She nodded and I crawled back to that nipple I happened to notice on my right and which was crying for attention. Under my feet, Noeleen’s heartbeat was pretty fast, and I could feel her breathing increase in depth and rhythm. Myself I’d left my brains in the glove compartment at last and was getting quite worked up.
“Nope, nothing to it, <a gasp> I’m definitely hungry,” whispered my bodacious girlfriend.
That made me raise an eyebrow. As far as I knew, sex is like food. You don’t need both at the same time, but then,  I was about to be educated on the matter. Leaning nonchalantly on her nipple, which had by then hardened comfortably for the purpose, I glared at my smiling girlfriend. “Well can’t it wait? Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy this, I have the proof right here in front of me”, I said, tapping the soft brown skin of her nipple.

A weird look came into her eyes. She smiled at me, a toothy smile, a hungry smile even. For a second I knew what a chocolate bar feels, when it meets Noeleen’s gaze..
“Actually, no, it cannot wait.” Two large fingers settled on either side of me. I was well used to their pressure by then already. But still, the motion upward in my drunken state was a bit of a shock. I swallowed my stomach back to its proper place. I was now situated well above my girl’s face. I could see the full extent of her naked body, her breasts, erect and beckoning me, the serene plain of her belly, the marvelous triangle further away. The twin mountains of her thighs were raised and level with my eyes. A hand was discreetly poised, at the base of one of them. Suddenly everything went seriously upside down.
Her eyes were fixed on me. As she started to lower me towards her face, they started to slightly squint at me, too. Below me a huge cave had opened wide. Hell, I could see all the way down her throat, where a massive uvula was retracting in a web of saliva strings. More strings hung there between her palate and her tremulous tongue, which just started to stretch out now. Noeleen’s eyes were weirdly glazed by what I hoped was really just lust. As I was about to reach her maw, Noeleen just closed it quickly , swallowed and let out a moan of pleasure that caught me head on, leaving me half deaf (somewhere South , her hand had resumed its lustful activity…). I regained altitude, as  Noeleen attached her gaze on me again. “Oops, where were we? “ she said in a whisper. “Oh yes, munchies…” She closed her eyes.
The mouth opened again, a vast hole of rosy flesh. Noeleen’s perfect white teeth were gleaming in the penumbra, clearly indicating the way to her inner self.
“Noeleen!! Wait!! What are you doing?!!” I screamed then, I recall. I wasn’t that scared, I was just weirded out, I guess. We’d never tried that before, and her talk about munchies had really got to me maybe. At the back of my head, a little voice was telling me soothingly “At last”…

I remember the wet touch of her tongue on my out-stretched hands. They went splotch into the coating of saliva. I shivered my head passed under the great white teeth and into the inner world of Noeleen’s mouth. The temperature went up suddenly. The smell of alcohol was everywhere too. When Noeleen’s fingers deposited me on her tongue, well inside her mouth, I shivered when my body started to get coated in saliva on the warm fleshy mattress. The tongue felt grainy and alive under my skin. My shins were still out, by my head was so damn close to her throat, all I could see was the slope leading to the esophagus. Hell, her uvula was virtually above me. A red curtain of  soaked flesh, criss-crossed by tiny veins, was my horizon.

Noeleen has a perfect mouth. I don’t say this because she’s my girlfriend, but because she has. Simple as that. A dentist’s heaven. A girl’s mouth can be a mess down there at the throat, with bloated tonsils and over complex hanging flesh. (I tend to notice these details now that everything is projected on a big screen for me)  Noeleen’s throat is just…a Zen garden. Perfectly shaped, no tonsils, no ugly fleshy folds. Just a perfect well, nicely arched, waiting for my little passing into her even more glorious stomach. That thought was a bit too much. I let out a yelp when her palate squashed me on the tongue and her lips closed around my shins. Darkness, wetness, biological smells. And then a sudden vacuum. I was pressed by her tongue as she started licking and sucking on my defenseless body. My ears went pop. Then pressure came back, some air rushed in from half opened lips. Darkness, vacuum, constriction on a tongue that seemed to be able to wrap itself around my entire body. Light again. Noeleen’s lets out a hum of pleasure that vibrates in my entire guts. The lips closed again.

I was fighting hard the saliva that tried to find its way into my mouth (which I kept grimly closed) and into my nose. No, that was not that pleasant. In fact it was downright scary at that stage, I thought. I was  a morsel in Noeleen’s mouth. No longer a person but a biteful, a piece of food for ingestion. The sex had gone out of the window.  Well… not for Noeleen, it hadn’t. I could feel the gushes of warm air circulating at the back of her throat, like so many little hurricanes. The interspaced gasps of her pleasured body were loud and downright frightening in their power, heard from the inside of her head. It went on for what seemed a bit too long.

When Noeleen let me out at last, I was gasping like a fish, clawing at the saliva on my face, and had started shouting at her, my eyes still closed “ This is not funn….”
“Hush…” she said, while my first sight greeted the closing lips that came smothering my face. “ It’s not that bad. I know you enough to know that” she said, giving me a bit more distance to see her entire face. I gulped down. She looked flushed, a thin layer of sweat was glistening on her brow in the glow of the candles,  and her great brown eyes were… begging ?

The next second, in a quick swoosh over the fleshy landscape of her body, I found myself deposited very close indeed to another sort of lips. I could no longer see Noeleen’s face, but a long finger lingered on my back applying a light but insistent pressure. I know a hint when I see one. I complied with my girl’s desire like a valiant little soldier.

Later that night, locked in the grip of her hand, as she gently snored, I was bemusing over this first close encounter with Noeleen’s mouth. It is then that I started to feel the first stirring of a massive hard-on. “A bit late for the cavalry” I thought to myself, with a sigh.
I’ve never been late again.

……………………………………….

We’ve left the park. I get to travel first class this time, meaning between two soft mounds of warm , pliant and scented breast flesh.
Noeleen is taking me where no man has gone before. She’s very excited about it. And following as usual the laws of our relationship, her excitement is inversely proportional to my dismay. I mean, the concept is pretty cool. But if something goes wrong, we’re in a shitload of trouble. But “trouble”, hey, Noeleen does not even know the term. Oh, what the hell, her mood is contagious and I’m looking forward to let loose my deviant instincts. Life is short, I tell myself (though perhaps not as short as me).

The place has a definite oriental look to it. Soft music, orchids, dim lighting. The girl who greets us at reception is very pretty. From my position, well hidden in Noeleen’s bra, the first thing I notice is her breasts. But hey, this is circumstantial. I can’t be blamed for that, can I? She’s Asian with the typical Asian gracious nose and wonderful slanted eyes that seem like deep wells of dark ink to me. I grumble when Noeleen, with a discreet movement, pushes me back further into her bra.
“Will it be a short or long session for you, Miss?”
“A short one please” answers the demure voice of my one and only.
We follow her into some dimly lit corridors and into a changing room. The girl introduces Noeleen to the first stage: a deep water massage provided by a rather  complex equipment of jets and god-knows-what. When she leaves, Noeleen takes me out of her cleavage (it’s always such a difficult moment, leaving this place) and puts me on a wooden bench. The music is playing in the background, from unseen loudspeakers.

“Well, my sweet prince, here we are. Let’s go to condition 1. (Yeah, she's a fan of Battlestar Galatica) Oh, but I forget, you’re always in condition 1”, says she, as she refers to my spending most of my life naked as a worm.(I’m well used to that. By placing me that little notch closer to the atom, the Shrinking has placed me closer to nature, I always say, and nakedness is not an issue).
Now I get to relax and watch Noeleen remove the adornments of civilization and join me in the natural state. Since the changing room is tiny, her huge body seems to invade the entire space, and my little eyes being situated lower than her knees, the towering effect of her naked body is amplified by the cramped situation. The long thighs are pillars of beauty. After a while, even the “panties of frustration” go down, along this wondrous route, and my remaining doubts about this odyssey melt away in a second.
“I better try the jets first, my prince.” Noeleen enters the booth and start fumbling about with all the buttons and levers. I watch from the wooden bench. What should happen happens. All the jets start at the same time. By the sound of it, they’re pretty powerful. A roar of gigantesque proportions escapes from the glass door behind which I merrily observe Noeleen’s blurred movements while listening to her squeals. Suddenly a frozen Noeleen re-appears, frantically closing the door behind her. I’m in absolute stitches. Predictability did not lessen my joy.

Anyway, we get it to work. This time Noeleen takes me with her, but sets me in a corner, away from the jets. To me they appear as the powerful water outflows a ruptured dam. The stray droplets are more than I need to feel massaged all right. Above me, my girl is enjoying the rush of hot water on her breast and thighs and back. I watch her as many rivers follow the graceful contours of her sculptural body, while myriads of droplets settle on her glistening surface.  Her skin is glowing under the rosy light of discreet neon above, her breasts swaying gently with her movements, (mesmerizing, I could not lift one if I tried)  as she lathes herself in scented soap. Her brown hair is hugging her head tightly now, looses meshes sticking to her shoulders. I have to get closer.

I try to walk on the wet tiles towards the vast feet ahead. My body is pelted by enormous drops and at times I have to relent and fall to the ground to crawl further. At last I get between her feet.(Noeleen is cautious and observe my position attentively). Above me the cliff of her body is impossibly high and waterfalls just keep pouring from it with a mighty roar. I gasp when I see the vast fleshy monument crumple down in my direction, as Noeleen lowers herself, and snatch me from the floor. Protecting me from the blasts of water with her vast back, she smiles at me and proceeds in lathering me also with her soapy hands. I realize 99,9999% of mankind lives in total misery, who hasn’t experienced this religious moment.

“Not bad, hey?” she says in a happy voice, swallowing what seems to me buckets of water, in the process.
“Yeah, that’s all right”. I answer casually. She smiles and shrugs. Noeleen tries to set me astride her right nipple. I try to hang on, but the flow of water gushing from over her shoulder keeps lifting me off her skin and pushing me away from the golden globe. I keep falling back into her palm. Oh well. A second later I’m left alone between the twin masses of her feet. We keep enjoying the moment, till the timer on the shower jets bring this introduction to an end.

I watch my highness performing the strange task of quickly arranging a living space for me on the white towel she’s about to wrap herself in for the duration of the session. She had planned this all along obviously. A white thread and a needle appear magically out of her handbag, and in a second she has fabricated some sort of harness for me on the soft surface of the towel. Pretty slick. I hop in, setting my feet and body into the discreet loops. Well, it ‘d  be discreet. This place is women only, which only increases my excitement, but could also bring us some real shame if we’re caught. (Then again, I ‘d shudder just at the idea of meeting some hairy naked guys) I can already see the titles on the first page: “Smallest man on the planet is also the biggest pervert! ”, “Tiny perv found in ladies’ relaxation center!” and so on… No wonder Noeleen is thrilled with this. She’s not the kind who plays by the book. (If we’re caught , I’ll feed myself to the neighbors’ cat, I swear. It has been eyeing me with greed for quite a while, and I’ll have a last grateful friend in my shame).
When Noeleen wraps the towel around her body, I find myself poised against her left buttock. I hope she won’t be sitting down any time soon. She walks us to the next stage.

“Please make yourself comfortable on the table, Miss. Leave the towel on top of your legs, (they can’t bring themselves to say the word “ass”) I’ll be back in a second.”
Noeleen “unhooks” me from the tiny loops and settling on the massage table, on her belly, leaves me near her hip, under the cover of the towel. I am left with the vision of this unending wall of golden flesh , from her feet and up to her armpits (which she shaved recently, an unusual move for her, but she knows the slightest detail counts now in my tiny scrutiny). Loud vibrations mark the return of the masseuse.
I watch in awe as the girl is applying her hands on my love’s body. The slaps and squeezes evoke a tremendous force to me. I see Noeleen’s flesh ripple under the assault while her satisfied purring breaks the silence of the room. I feel a strange sadness invading my soul. Not long ago, it would have been my hands there, treading the scented flesh and supple muscles. I would have been me leaning over her body, my hands covered in perfumed oil and administrating a loving massage. I realize with a sad shock that it’s been a while that Noeleen hasn’t been touched that way, hasn’t let her body in abandon to the contact of hands that could cup her breast easily, that can apply pressure on her neck, that make her feel the density of her own body. How bad does she miss this? How often does she long after the touch of a real man, imposing his strength on her? I feel suddenly inadequate, and very very small indeed, cowering as I am next to her buttock, in the shadow of a vulgar towel, like a mouse in its hole.

The woman next to us is nothing but a moving cliff of white fabric. She’s kneading Noeleen’s back to oblivion it seems. The table is stable enough but I can feel the slight rhythmical lurching of my leathery ground, and I hope it won’t last too long, as sea-sickness threatens. Suddenly I see my white cotton canopy starting to glide away. I run into cover, but it seems the towel is being lifted. My heart is sinking. This is it. The moment of shame has arrived.
“Oups, leave it there, please than you,” comes Noeleen’s voice.
“It won’t be anything I haven’t seen, you know.” Answers the girl with a smile in her voice. “Just relax and you’ll enjoy it”. The towel starts again its retreat.
“No really, please, just concentrate on my shoulders and thighs, please, I’m really shy, maybe next time”, says Noeleen with her usual aplomb.
The towel is dropping back in place. “Of course” says the masseuse gently. I stand frozen, my back against the supple flesh of Noeleen’s right buttock. Damn.
The show has moved down to Noeleen’s thighs. I watch great feminine hands kneading the powerful underside of my girl’s legs. Under my canopy of fluffy cotton, the temperature is definitely rising. The flesh is splaying onto the mattress; the rocking motion spreads quickly to her entire body. I do not move fast enough and for a second I’m crushed under the ass flesh. I hardly have time to react that it comes back and swallows me again, and again and again. Noeleen suddenly tightens her ass, putting an end to the motion, and giving me time to crawl away from the danger zone. (I seriously consider for a second staying there, there’s not enough ass in the known universe to content me, but hey, reason prevails, for a change).
“Did I hurt you, miss?” comes the masseuse’s worried voice.
“No, not at all, am ticklish is all.”
The vast rocking motion starts anew. Noeleen’s satisfied purr is audible again. This has to stop! Noeleen is embracing the Other Side!
When the masseuse goes away, leaving us alone in the room, a beatific Noeleen turns around on her back and settles me on her navel. Her breathing is long and serene, lifting her belly gently under my feet. I decide not to trouble the quiet moment with the myriads of sarcastic repartees coming to my mind (I know I can be a real pain at times, … but not this time).
“Oooooh, it was great!” whispers my girl as she props herself on her elbows, and looks at me with a satisfied gaze.
“And it was all the better ‘cos I could feel you down there with me. We have to try that again. Hey, you know, I think I know exactly where to hide you for the naked part next time we do this”, she adds, before engulfing me in a sudden kiss. I swallow hard. A strong tingle surges at my loins.
“OK, off to the sauna, sweet prince, you gonna love this!”
“What?!!!”

We have entered the Jurassic Age. The air is heavy, moist and hot. A constant fog is dimming our vision. Vast dinosaurs move about in the swamp-like atmosphere, to gather at the unique water source…. Each one of them could have me for breakfast and they are sumptuous…
Noeleen is sitting on one of the benches in the vast wooden room. The benches themselves form a gradual stair, as in a college amphitheater. My girl has let her guard down, and only the neatly folded towel on her lap is guarding her privacy. Under it, lying on my belly on her great thigh, I enjoy an impregnable view of the whole room. It is populated with all the giant naked women required for a healthy diet, some obviously well enough used to this to be free of any show of decency. Their naked bodies are lying on benches, or sitting next to the hot stones, or standing next to the tiny ventilation system which provides the only respite from the overwhelming heat. I’m in heaven.
Apart from a more mature lady on the left (still magnificent in her abandon to the heat), all the girls here are pretty much our age, or thirty-ish, I’d say. The world is awash with naked breasts, glistening in the dim yellowish light, with long thighs, spread languidly on the wood, with flat bellies showing their sweat-filled navels. And everywhere, the uncovered bushes of these mighty animals are sleek with moisture. My head‘s gonna explode, I know that (not only my head, by the way…).

I feel underneath me the blood cursing in Noeleen’s veins, dilated as they are by the heat. A sleek layer of sweat rests between my body and her thigh. I wasn’t exactly sure about this. But Noeleen today is my goddess, by way of our wager, sure, but not only. She has power of life and death over me. I surrender happily to her crazy moods. I’m only slightly frustrated by the fact that I cannot extirpate myself from the towel to have a good look at her reclining body. We play risky enough as it is.

The door opens and a waft of cool air is rushing in the room, a massive naked form enters graciously our primordial world. Hey, I know her. This is Kieran Donovan, we went to college together and I even had quite a crush on her (never actualized, as flirting was not my stronger card by then…) . Wow! She’s as gorgeous now as I remember her from our swimming classes. Her body is tone-perfect, her breasts a tribute the maker of all things. Her skin… Ah, I better stop, I’m getting hotter and it’s hellish enough down here. She nods and smiles to Noeleen. They know each other too, and I suspect there is some disappointment from Kiera for not having accepted my advances at the time I was still a regular human being, which would explain the cold edge of her smile to my girl. (Then again, I could be just too full of myself for thinking so). I watch Kiera come closer on her slender legs and sit her toned ass next to us. A blissful vision if any. Noeleen and her chat briefly before silence invades the room once more. I can hear the melody of breathing around me, exhaling from all the naked chests.

I feel a light tap on the towel. That the signal for me to hook up in the loops of the towel, when Noeleen needs to walk without me. I do just that, and feel the towel being lifted and deposited back on the bench. I have a glimpse of Noeleen’s superior bottom and back far above, as she walks away to the shower nearby. Understandably, I can’t really follow her there. I’m left alone with my own and unaware private harem. I’m the Peeping Tom of the nano-generation. Did I ever express my gratefulness to the maker of the Shrinking? I hope I find the bastard one day, to let him know my joy, before I strangle him.
Noeleen is taking her sweet time under this shower. I’m content to ogle all these girls in their natural environment but I do feel exposed. I wonder if I could…

Something is lifting the towel.  As it unfolds I feel myself hanging in the loops of thread and traveling through space in a woosh of air. A vast buttock rushes to me. I bump into it with a silent wet smack. The world remains steady for a second, as I see below me the impossible length of a long leg. Then the lurching movement of a walking gait. The door opens, and we’re out. What happened? I think in a panic. My mind goes in overdrive as I try to understand my plight. The giant muscles against me are alive with a rhythmic motion. I can smell the scented flesh against my face. It is not the usual scent. This is definitely an alien buttock. . Kiera. It must be Kiera. She was sitting just next to us. She took the wrong towel. Damn. She took the wrong towel. I start fumbling at the attaches where my feet and arms are entangled. I have to let go. The drop is impressive. And even if I make it, the sound could well alert her. Damn. We go through another door. The chatter of women is all around me. I even hear Kiera chatting for a second to her friend of hers. This is bad. There are plenty of women here. I’m gonna either pop in like the proverbial mouse, or be crushed unaware under a sweaty foot.  A sudden thought enters my panicked mind. I’m just situated on the underside of her buttock. If she sits down now, it will… My stomach lurches at the fast descent. She’s sitting down.

The movement stops when sudden darkness engulfs me, as an enormous pressure builds up on my body. All air is expelled from my lungs. I feel above me the heavy muscles, the heavy bones, the whole enormous body bent on squashing me. My thorax is pushed down to the limit. I think she’s not yet reclining on the bench, perhaps just leaning forward, toward shoes or her bag or something, I should have exploded otherwise under the full weight of her straightened torso. As if to confirm my idea, I feel the pressure increase slowly. She’s straightening her pose. This is bad. My body is fighting the mounting pressure. I can hold on pretty long without air since the Shrinking for some reason, and I’m less fragile than I look, our lovemaking is a proof of that. But this, this is oblivion knocking at my door. I’m going to end up a smear against this girl’s ass cheek, if she shifts her weight on the bench. Damn, maybe my life is now flashing in front of my eyes, but I’m just not paying attention.  Her flesh is even now entering my mouth.

I’m about to bite real hard when suddenly the pressure vanishes, light comes pouring in my eyes, blinding me. A vast commotion is taking place near me.
“Oh I’m so sorry, Kiera. I slipped on this damn floor. Are you okey?” comes Noeleen’s voice. I can see two naked bodies, just on my left. Their head are just above the level of the bench. Noeleen is turning Kiera away from me. I see her panicked glance. A micro second of relief comes into her gaze when she notices my movements and an urgent word is mouthed silently by her lips.
“Are you all right? Damn, I really fell hard on you, didn’t I?”
“No, its’ all right. Just the surprise, really! Don’t think twice about it, please.” Answers a shocked Kiera, as she starts to get up.
I’m all exposed on the bench. Plenty of girls are already looking in our direction; one of them is walking towards me. I dive between two boards of the bench and onto the wooden floor.

The world is a pandemonium of huge naked feet around me. Shoes and bags form the rest of the landscape. I can see Noeleen’s feet a few meters away. I foolishly start running in her direction, when a shadow covers me. I look up just in time to see a vast naked foot coming down on top of me. I jump sideways, just as it lands with a hard slap on the ground. A vast body looms above and is carried further away. I jump to my feet and retreat under the shadow of the bench. I get to one of its support, and, my chest heaving, I lean against the cold metal. Damn. It’s not like its’ the first time. But I don’t seem to get used to the idea of dying under a girl’s body. Yet, after a few seconds, the adrenaline starts running off, and the sheer shock of the situation gets me giggling. Hell, that was something else. I’m nearly merry and light-headed when I stare around to find Noeleen. I can hear her apologizing voice somewhere on my left. I walk in that direction. I snigger inside. Now these two have another reason to smile at each other.

The din of voices finally recedes as the incident dies away. I watch Kiera‘s feet walk away through an opened door. I look up in time to see through the boards a much more familiar ass sitting down. The boards creak a bit. And I hear a repressed giggle. Yep, that’s her all right. Two huge feet are steady in front of me now, and I recognize on the ankle this little scar Noeleen inflicted herself during one of our cycle tours.
A second later a white towel inadvertently falls onto the ground like a crashing circus tent. I walk to it. Search for the loops. Hook up on them. After a motionless minute, Noeleen, satisfied I’ve got the loops, picks up the towel. In a vast circular motion, I find myself lifted of the ground and swirling around her giant ass, till I smack into it. But this smacking, I can live with. Noeleen starts walking out the room.

“Are you OK?”
Back in the little changing room, Noeleen is manipulating me like a doll, checking for contusions and signs of mortal wounds. Her eyes are all wet again.
“Noeleen, put me down. NOW!!” I tell her, as the fondling is making me nauseous.
“Look, I say, I’m fine. It was fun. I’m perfectly ok, baby.”
“I got such a fright. I walked back into the sauna, and the towel was gone. Thanks god, I’d seen Kiera coming out, and…” She takes a long breath. “And I was there just in time to save you from her crushing ass, my prince!” she says proudly.
“Well technically, you saved both us, baby, ‘cos this girl was about to bear a serious bite mark on her bottom, I tell you.” I add, in a desperate attempt to save my princely honor.
“You love ass, I know that”, she winks. “But come on, don’t tell me hers was better than mine” she retorts, letting a munificent double-crusher looms over my little shape.
“The flavour of my demise would have been considerably less sweet, honey”, I concede.
Our banter has lowered enough the gravity of the incident and we can breathe again normally after a few minutes. I know we’re going to talk about this again. And I better have some hankies ready.
While she starts dressing up, all silent and still shaken, I think it appropriate to tell her a piece of my mind. “Next time, I want to be in  …err…a safe position when you go to that shower”.
She stands still, both arms lifted above her head, in the process of lowering her top, and winks at me: “You got it!”.
She laughs….getting immediately entangled in her yet simple tank top.

…………………………………………………………………………………………

We’re back home at last and sitting on Noeleen’s shoulder, I eye with animosity the check board, instrument of my doom. The game configuration is still there, a sharp reminder of my defeat and its consequences. I ache all over, but since it cannot be old age yet, ( I still have my memoirs to complete, and intend to add quite a few chapters)  I guess it’s just the less than heroic exploits of the day. Outside, the sky has taken the rosy hues of the sunset.

Noeleen goes straight to our bedroom. She grabs me between her fingers and sets me at the very end of it. She starts a slow strip-tease, that I watch aghast, as the garments fly all over the room revealing her towering slender body in all its rejuvenated beauty (we have to go more often to this sauna place). I’ve seen it often. I haven’t seen enough of it. She sets a knee onto the mattress. The ground shakes from the enormous weight. She brings her other leg onto the bed. A definite slant occurs in the mattress, and I fight to stay up. I’m lost in her shadow, as she lowers her gaze onto me.

I have a feeling she does not want me to move, so I just watch as she lies down on our bed. I’m now facing the wrinkle-free soles of her perfect feet. They open like a gate , as my girl start spreading her long legs on either side of me. She’s propped on her elbows and is looking at me with a joyful intensity. At the end of the vast triangle, a wondrous and moist place is beckoning me.
Suddenly an object flies from her hand and lands between her thighs. I come closer and recognize the fallen monarch of our chess game. 
“I consider our wager forfeit, sweet prince, and you have served me well” says Noeleen with a grave tone.” Now, I’m all yours for the night and for ever, my King” she adds with a wink.

I feel a smile taking over my entire face as fatigue becomes a meaningless term. I venture between the tanned hills of Noeleen’s legs till I reach the wooden piece. I touch it for good luck and think to myself “ The King is dead. Long live the King”, as I walk to the very center of the universe.

The end

This was [b]CHECKMATE[/b],  by nostromo