One year later…..

All in all, it was going fine. Anna had had her doubts about this symposium, and had wondered whether she was going to waste a full week attending a series of boring and non-informative meetings. It turned out the sessions offered a much better output  than expected and some of the presenters, especially Dr Cavendish, from the Glasgow University, had steered Anna’s reflections toward fresh and challenging avenues of research.
Anna ‘s position in her own university had now been recently consolidated and she was feeling she was coming to her own at last, in terms of independent thinking. It was with a spring in her steps that she entered her hotel room at last, feeling at long last that she did maybe belong now to those circles of scientists that travelled too much and exchanged ideas near the coffee machines of their cheap hotels. It was truly a good period for her, she decided, setting her briefcase on the chair.
She grabbed the phone and called Svetlana. Although a year and a half had passed, the intensity of their relationship did not seem to abate, and they kept in touch through the numerous travels with the same eagerness they had experienced in the beginnings.

Svetlana was all fire on the phone, and yet there were again those usual moments of silence, so typical of their conversations,  when each was listening to the other’s breathing, with an intensity of yearning that was nothing short of erotic. Anna, the phone tucked against shoulder and ear, opened the top drawer of the antique wardrobe, and extracted the box. It was all worn out now, its white cardboard sheath all damaged and yellowed by usage. But when she opened it, the toy, staring at her from its foam casing was still as new as ever. On the phone a deep sigh came through, proof that her mind and Svetlana’s were already on the same wavelength.

It was the Hungarian girl that had introduced Anna to the erotic pleasure of sex conversation over the phone. At first Anna had been a bit shocked and bothered by the idea. But she remembered well the very first session they had, the astonishment she had felt at experiencing the erotic charge of Svetlana’s disembodied voice, at hearing the intimate and suggestive ideas that this voice kept offering, and she remembered how her body had connected to that voice with unrestrained abandon. Her ear glued to the phone, her mind in a turmoil, she had been truly moved and aroused by Svetlana’s relentless description of what she was doing to the toy. It had been so teasing to listen to her lover explains what her next move would be, and then to actually listen to her doing those things to it, with the  toy’s cute yelps and screams bringing the scene right into her mind with amazing clarity. Yes, it had been wonderful from the start. And Anna had not been long to whisper her own instructions to her far away lover, asking her to love the toy in all sorts of improbable scenarios and positions.

Tonight, it was her turn to entertain Svetlana, as he had taken the toy with her for this long week of separation. With fumbling fingers, she extracted the little man from its protective foam.

John was travelling again. It could have been a good respite from the usual ordeal, but unfortunately he was not travelling alone. Deep within the suitcase of the young woman, he had now accompanied her in a multitude of short trips all over the world. He was now well used to the routine of airports, with their announcements, conveyor belts, rough handling. He was used to the inside of the suitcase, as well as to the inside of the plane over-head compartment. (He could hear below him the meal being served, the chatter of the passengers, the security announcements of the air hostesses, he was truly a passenger in his own way). It did remind him cruelly of the many travels he had done himself, in the course of his busy and reckless career within the firm. The recollections made him dizzy with disbelief. He could still picture himself sitting under, in an executive class seat, relishing some expensive wine. He could remember fitting his laptop into the over-head compartment, before sitting down and enjoying a good nap. How could he ever have imagined then that one day, he would be inside one of those compartments, tucked inside a suitcase, while the passengers enjoyed (or dreaded, as the case may be) their flight. In moments like these, the whole situation was just too absurd to contemplate. In those moments, his arms caught in the foam, his head immobilized in its cradle, the tiny toy  he could not possibly be , was still waiting to wake up.

In front of him now, in the silence of the bedroom, a huge and clumsy Anna was shedding all her clothing in front of him, revealing her gigantic and yet beautiful body. A second later he was casually brought to her bed,  and set on her belly, whose warm soft ground already rose and fell to the rhythm of her increasing excitement.

“Did you lube it yet?”
“No, you’re right, let me do that”
John could distinctly hear both sides of the conversation. The phone was bigger than he was, Anna’s mouth near as large as he was. And John knew well enough what the girls were up to.
He let out an instinctive yelp when Anna’s mouth took position right below him and started to open wide, revealing the tremulous and wet tongue, the impeccable boulders of the teeth. He closed his eyes as he was pushed on the hot carpet of taste buds, greeted by    the clammy heat of the young woman’s mouth. He tried as always to protect his ears from the sudden pressure loss that inevitably came from the heavy sucking on his body.
Anna was salivating much now and all his body was quickly covered in the hot sticky substance. Only his feet were still outside, dangling in the cool air of the bedroom. As for his arms, John was trying to keep them away from the press-like teeth on either side. All his blood ebbed and flow to the rhythm of the sucking, rendering him near nauseous and at times  close to unconscious. 
“He’s ready, honey” what do you want me to do now? “ Anna’s voice was loud and yet sexy, even for John, as he hung down over her breasts now, his ankle pinned between hard flesh.
“Mmmmm…….. leave it for a while on your bush. I’m kissing you right now. The French sort.”
John was deposited on the well trimmed bush, gasping, while tiny drops of saliva adhered immediately to the pubic hairs. Much higher, beyond the vast slope of the body, John could see Anna staring intently at him, her phone in her hand.
“Oooo,  I love when you kiss like that. Kissing you  right back. Now should I leave it there? “
“No , just push him slowly with one finger over the edge of your mons. Let it fight it.”
“Sure thing”, giggled a relaxed Anna.
The massive finger dropped from the sky and like a living bulldozer, started to gently push John toward the abyss between the two high raised thighs. Hanging to some hairs, John did his best to resist the bulldozer power of the lone finger that nudged him forward, but not enough that his feet did not go over board and were dangling below, brushing against the first folds of the clitoris. A big sigh erupted from above.
“Ooowww, is it nice? Is he not just what you needed, sweety?” came the metallic voice in the phone.
“Mmmm, its’ really nice, yes. Wish it was you, though, but yes, its feet are really caressing my clit. Mmmmmm, yes, this is exactly what the doctor ordered <giggle>.”
A silence lasted a few seconds in the receiver. Obviously that last information was being processed on the other end of the line. The voice that resounded after this was definitely on edge, its tone seemed to have lost an octave or two. Things were heating up.

Something had broken inside John. Had he been suddenly granted his wish to enlarge back to his normal size, it is probable his friends and family would hardly have recognized the man he had become. This once powerhouse of will and energy and confidence had been well tamed by his long captivity and by the games he had been forced to play over and over and over again.
The struggling man fighting against the casual grip of two giant fingers, the desperate would-be mogul of finance screaming his throat raw before entering a dripping vagina, the proud man that searched every opportunity to escape the massive lovers at all cost, this man was indeed now but a shadow of himself. John had found his place in the world. And in spite of all his efforts, he was well on the road to acceptance. It is but a token of his pride and willpower that it took so long indeed.
John would fight still, his self-defence reflexes were still somehow giving him the strength to refuse the casualness of his treatment, but deep inside, he knew he had lost it. The girls had commented often on the fact he seemed less feisty than before, more cooperative. Hell, he was even actually trying to help now. He had understood his job.

In doing so, he also allowed the monstrous shapes that populated his world to acquire a renewed beauty. For a long time, the sheer size of those beings had prevented him to appreciate his tormentor’s looks to their true value. But no longer. To John, Anna and Svetlana had never seemed so beautiful. They were nimble, young, powerful beings, and John, for all his will to fight his condition, had embraced their beauty and their power over him. His struggle was slowly becoming a mockery of his early attempts. John knew Anna wanted him to struggle, wanted him to scream and protest, and now he was getting an odd sense of satisfaction from the eager and approving look in her eyes. Much against his better judgment, John was allowing at last a form of relationship to develop between him and his young captor. She was his world, and only human contact. She was his goal and only playground. Her life was the only drama he was aware of , apart from his own. A terrible affection was growing in him for the unaware young woman that owned him body and soul.
“Now, rub him on your thigh. Don’t let it touch your sex yet. Do it now”
The voice in the phone was eager, loving and excited. John immediately braced himself for the impact on the rosy wall of skin. Rolled slowly onto the warm flesh, treaded into it like living dough, John closed his eyes.

He was very wrong of course to let himself wrapped up in such thoughts. Anna was certainly not developing any feeling of any sort for her favourite toy. She had come to acknowledge the powerful impact of the thing on her love life, the cementing affect it had on her relationship with Svetlana (as it had before with Claire). But it is a fact also that it had at times bothered her that  a mere object, however elaborate, should have such influence on her well-being. Sure, sex was important to her, as she had developed indeed a healthy personality and a wholesome frankness about it. But she had indeed wondered about the addiction she could read into her frequent usage of the toy. She had thought at times that the toy was becoming a problem. It’s only following intense discussions with Svetlana that she had admitted with some relief that, if addiction there was, it was not hurting her or her partner, and that maybe it was in her nature and that of her peculiar fetish, to focus so much on this apparatus. She had then given up on the preposterous temptation to consult about it. (John, who had witnessed some of those discussions, had well realized a major opportunity for escape had been crushed by Anna’s comfortable stance).
Even now Anna was quite far from any compassionate thoughts for her toy, all focused as she was on the voice of her partner, listening to her very breathing on the line, and eager to follow the lovingly given instructions. During those magical moments, she felt Svetlana was the one caressing her and the toy was wholly forgotten, a mere extension of her lover’s voice.

“Start touching yourself. Gently.”
Anna brought the whining little thing close to her swollen clitoris. With one finger, she pressed its head on the sensitive hub, and applied a slow gyratory motion.  The toy’s body brushed deliciously against her labia, (so close, so frustratingly close, she thought). On the line, Svetlana‘s breathing was becoming erratic as well, in a wonderful congruence of feelings.
In an agony of pleasurable anticipation, Anna was now desperate to hear the words that would liberate her.

The moment was coming, as it always did, and there was nothing John could do about. Just now, breathing was already a problem, as a humongous finger tip was pressing his face into hot flesh. The sheer intensity of the action, the relentless and utter weakness of his position was an added factor to John’s near-stupor. The clitoris he was rubbed against was enormous, flagrant, bulging, the fingers that held him were beyond comprehension, the body he was about to enter was thousands of times heavier and mightier than he was. In fact, it was so vast and so close, it was impossible to acknowledge its immensity. In those final moments before entry, the world was only made of smell, heat and closely-felt body parts, into which his body, covered in intimate juices and sweat seemed ready to melt for ever into the rosy mass.

It was usually then that John experienced his moments of lucidity. He truly was no one. The young woman that held him was no longer aware of his presence, even as an object. She was moaning, and breathing harder, lost in the sensations, focused only on release and joy. The slightest motion , and John was carried wherever she wanted, the touch of a finger and he nothing but flesh against flesh, a sudden impulse of the joyful girl and he was crushed under tons of scented feminine body.  His yells and protests were lost in the powerful winds of her breathing, his very presence in her fingers were hardly registering against the hurricane of sensations coming from her wet flesh. Lost to the world, John Hingsley was an extension of her fingers, an instrument of joy, and the eagerly awaited tool of her pleasure. Anna‘s will mattered, her pleasure mattered, her bodily needs mattered. John Hingsley, his thoughts, feelings, experiences and dreams were swept away in the tempest of erotic trembling that was shaking the enormous body around him. Just below him, a hot, deep and rosy orifice was throbbing in expectation of his arrival, exuding an all powerful scent that blocked all his senses and muddled up his last sensible thoughts.
“Do it. Do it now, my love” the sudden electronic voice came from so far way….

Anna, half consumed already with pleasure, plunged the toy deep into her. Its easy entrance against her wet folds, marked by the quick silencing of its tiny screams, ushered her to the next stage of ecstasy. She clamped her vaginal muscles on the small wriggling body, shuddering with joy, while the loving moans of her far away lover crossed an ocean to mirror her own.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

 One month later…

The girls had moved from Anna’s old apartment, deemed too small now that they were both working and able to afford a more spacious accommodation. They had found this flat not too far from Montmartres district, their preferred place in Paris, and they had thrown away all their previous possessions to make room for all the newness and enthusiasm of their flowering relationship. Nearly everything Anna owned was discarded, a notion quite appealing to Svetlana, who was eager to feel the last traces of Claire’s presence disappear from her universe. A certain box, well kept inside the underwear drawer was nevertheless preciously conserved.
For John, the move had brought about his re-assignment inside a new chest of drawers, whose lighter wood and general lighter design had made easier for him to listen to the world outside. Anna’s underwear was still muffling the sounds somewhat, but a pattern of holes on the top of the drawers was now allowing some light to filter through the garments. At long last , John’s days were at least somewhat brighter and clearer to his acutely tune senses. John, the silent witness of Anna’s life, was getting a better and more comfortable view of the little dramas and joys of the young couple.

Svetlana’s relationship to the toy was an easy one by now. She did not worry about the pros and cons of using a dildo. She was a joyful nature, sure of her needs and wishes, and she had found in the toy a treasured ally in her quest for happiness. Addiction, un-natural practices, guilt, all these ideas were not coming a mile from her practical and open mind. She had embraced its usage with glee, adapted it tiny shape to her peculiar penchant for mixing food and sex. And she was altogether content with this little participant.
She had of course also noticed how the toy had evolved recently, from being extremely rebellious to being more responsive and accommodating to her games. It had for the longest time let out pitiful screams whenever she had dipped him in chocolate sauce or whipped cream, and had acted all peeved by the various food products she had him swim in before a visit in her mouth or Anna’s mouth. This incredible behaviour had been a major turn on to her and her lover, and there was something magical in holding this struggling body in one’s mouth, feeling its tiny strength against the tongue, while sucking it clean.
Today the toy was calmer, more sedate and had even at times climbed all by himself into a bowl of ice cream, as if its programming had interpreted the environment and adapted to the repetitive events. But to Svetlana this was in no way a bad development. Pushing the toy toward the bowl and watching him struggle to get inside was a fascinating sight, so coordinated it seemed. If its behaviour had changed, it was still a wondrous addition to all the sex games she had in mind for Anna.

As for Anna, she had at first not welcomed the slow changes in her toy. She definitely enjoyed the tiny fight that took place in her bed every evening. The toy had been the perfect answer to her peculiar fetish, and had brought its fantasy as close to life as she thought possible. The screams, pleas, and general resistance of the toy (incredibly well timed, as it seemed to increase with its proximity with her sex, or to Svetlana’s sex, through some miracle of programming) were for some reason perfectly in tune with her needs, and if she at times had worried about this aspect of her fetish, she acknowledged easily enough that it enhanced the games too much to even think of renouncing it.
When the toy slowly started to comply with her actions, a disappointed Anna had wondered what to do to renew the freshness of its early behaviour. There was no way she could contact someone about it, though. The toy had been acquired in the most secret fashion by her parents, and no tech support was ever going to be available for this product. But thankfully, Anna discovered another aspect of her fetish was being triggered by these new patterns. Whenever the toy seemed to actually participate in her arousal (it was not that often, mind you), however clumsily it tried, a feeling of peaceful dominance was washing over her, which she hadn’t really experienced before, when all the actions were of her own making. The idea she owned the toy so totally and had actually coerced it into behaving for her pleasure was somehow satisfying to the extreme. It wasn’t long before those new behavioural patterns were fully integrated in Anna’s and Svetlana’s lovemaking, to the full satisfaction of the two girls.

Crawling out of the vagina was the most uncomfortable moment for John Hingsley. Not only his ribs and limbs were still feeling the tremendous crush that had accompanied the young woman’s orgasm, but his exit was always clouded by the fear that she would forget about him. He had many times found himself half stuck in the vulva of one girl, trying to struggle out, only to be squeezed between colossal thighs and left there for minutes or hours on end. He had many times been able to crawl down to the soaked sheets , in the deep shadows of the bed, only to be suddenly overwhelmed by the sudden shift of the huge body, and buried alive under the colossal mass of the young woman’s ass. This was always a truly horrible ordeal  for John, who, even though he was aware he would never die from it, was still experiencing the crushing and darkness and unbelievable pressure in the most terrifying way. Pressed under thousands of tons of flesh, John had never been able to fight against the claustrophobic panic that would seize him. Dying under the rounded flesh, the fabric of the bed sheet painfully marking his body, suffocating for hours, John’s ordeal was made all the more humiliating that he knew that the girl who was crushing him so obliviously was probably cooing loving words to her partner, or settling down to read a book, or simply even already sinking into a restful sleep. Forgotten, crushed, and asphyxiating, John had spent indeed many a night under the voluminous body of one of the satisfied young women.

It was one of these anxious climbs out. He was just fighting his way through the hot dripping folds, in the utter darkness under the bed covers, happy to get out at long last. He had done his best to bring Anna to a glorious climax, had given her the full use of his body with the confines of her vagina, had pressed and touched what he thought was her most sensitive spot in order to hurry and better her immense pleasure. In an odd way, he had done his job as best as he could. But for now he just wanted to get out, get back into his box and fall asleep. Fortunately, Svetlana was away for the evening, and he could allow himself to hope Anna was satisfied enough and not in the mood for seconds.

. It was hard to find purchase on the hot flesh of the labia. And his body was just about passing through the tube of flesh where minors constrictions would suddenly grip him in a tight embrace and immobilize for a few seconds. The pool of intimate juice he was bathing in was making things worse, and his feet kept slipping uselessly on the elastic flesh beneath. A constant suction effect seemed to always pull him back in, as if the hungry organ was reluctant to let him go. Every move brought about unpalatable squelching sounds, and John despaired of getting free of the hot furnace. From behind him, loud organic rumblings were echoing at times, reminding him that the small tunnel he was struggling in was but a very small part of a much larger world of inner flesh, where inconceivably large organs were pumping, digesting, secreting. For a few minutes each day, John Hingsley was an integrate part of this huge organism, accomplishing his tiny function for the welfare of a huge unaware being. The immense weight of the unseen body seemed bent on keeping him inside now, as if to absorb him once and for all.
In a last exhausting effort, he pushed his head free at last, feeling the air against his wet skin. It was pitch dark, as he struggled to free his feet, already hanging down and groping for the unseen ground. He dropped at last to the bed sheet, feeling around him the ominous mass of the vast feminine crotch he was crawling from. He hardly had time to suck in a few breaths of warm air, that the sudden and horrendously loud ring of the phone shattered the quietness of the bedroom. John froze, as all around him the heavy mass of flesh started to shift. A second later , he was being pushed forward by a hot, sweaty and smelly wall, and had no choice but to get up and leap forward in the dark.  Then he felt a huge thigh move and block his way forward. It was too late to react, and he remained trapped within a minuscule enclosure of free space between the wet sex and the soft wall of a thigh. John Hingsley cowered in darkness and let his back rest on the sweaty flesh behind him. He could only sigh and hope for the best. The temperature in his cell kept climbing and sweat poured from his every pores.

Anna had enjoyed this evening on her own. The toy had played wonderfully in her vagina, and she idly wondered now, as she felt it struggling his way out of her, whether she shouldn’t keep in him and try to  work her a way to a second climax. She was bout to finger it back inside her when the phone rang.
She was surprised, Svetlana was not due to call her before tomorrow. Reaching out, she picked up the phone, absent-mindedly noticing the toy struggling against her inner thighs.
It was a hospital calling. Svetlana. A car accident. Anna suddenly felt she was about to puke. Shaking with horror, she managed to sit on the edge of the bed, her fingers clutching the phone so hard, her knuckles were white. In her ear  the monotonous and polite voice was confirming her name and address. Anna could hear herself answering the questions, while a deep rumble started to drown all noise, and her vision started to blur.
Panicked, she took a deep breath and held it in. She knew she was prone to fainting, and she was used to try and prevent it. She asked the woman on the phone to hold for a second. After a moment, her sight and hearing cleared at last, if not the panicked beating of her heart. In a barely comprehensible gasp, she asked for the address of the hospital. The woman was still trying to say something when Anna cut her off. She jumped out of bed, dressed up in a fumbling and raging hurry, grabbed her car keys and rushed to the door.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Anna calmly unlocked the door of her flat. It was two in the morning and she was feeling elated. The evening had gone so fast, the emotions had ran so high, she still could feel the rush of adrenaline and the momentous relief running through her body.
Svetlana was sleeping now in her hospital room. It had been nothing serious after all. The Hungarian girl had even greeted her tearful visitor with one of her stupid jokes. And in that second, Anna had gone from hell to heaven. A broken leg, nothing major. They still wanted to keep her for the night to make sure, though. The staff had been all so polite, efficient and friendly. Anna was smiling to herself, as she entered the kitchen, dropping her coat casually on the back of a chair. It was hard to imagine now the horror that had invaded her life three hours ago. It was all gone, vanished, blown away like a bubble in a micro-second by Svetlana’s smile. Anna switched on the kettle. A nice hot tea was all she needed. She went looking for her cup in the bedroom.

It was the weirdest thing, and for a second Anna did not know for sure if she was seeing it:
In the middle of her bed, the toy was standing on a piece of paper, torn from her near-by agenda it seemed. It was waving its tiny arms, looking at her. One of his feet was resting on an opened tube of lipstick. On the paper itself, four letters were clearly marked out : “HELP”.

Tbc??