Giantess World
Story Notes:
This is the first in a series of sultry dark-humored boob-centric tales starring this character, written as a commission. Fans of saucy mature giantesses and their milky larger-than-life assets should find plenty to like here. A giant male character does technically make an appearance later in the story, but has minimal participation. Enjoy!
---
Interested in commissioning me for your own custom story? I can write your ultimate macro fantasy, from a wide range of genres and lengths. Read details here: https://www.deviantart.com/thejacksmith/journal/Story-Commissions-Are-Open-Again-698491757
I also have a side-shop for miscellaneous pre-written & discounted goodies, such as flash fiction, unfinished tales, and deleted scenes from series like Time-Out and A Little Blackmail. Check it out here: https://www.deviantart.com/thejacksmith/journal/New-Special-Stories-Shop-802615692
My Patreon for early-access stories and exclusive tales is now online! Hope you'll give it a look: https://www.patreon.com/JacksmithShrinkStories
---
Interested in commissioning me for your own custom story? I can write your ultimate macro fantasy, from a wide range of genres and lengths. Read details here: https://www.deviantart.com/thejacksmith/journal/Story-Commissions-Are-Open-Again-698491757
I also have a side-shop for miscellaneous pre-written & discounted goodies, such as flash fiction, unfinished tales, and deleted scenes from series like Time-Out and A Little Blackmail. Check it out here: https://www.deviantart.com/thejacksmith/journal/New-Special-Stories-Shop-802615692
My Patreon for early-access stories and exclusive tales is now online! Hope you'll give it a look: https://www.patreon.com/JacksmithShrinkStories
Carl gasped, lurching his way back into consciousness. Blaring white light above his head momentarily blinded him, and he clenched his eyes shut. Disoriented, he realized he wasn’t waking up from a reposed sleep, but was already sitting up in an undersized chair. What’s more, he couldn’t move his arms or legs. He grunted. Try as he might to wrench his hands free, they were bound tightly behind his back by taut rubber cords. His ankles were the same. The man blinked, opening his eyes again, and tried in vain to make sense of what he saw, but his surroundings were no more logical than the momentary darkness of pretending he was still asleep.
He was completely naked; Carl noticed that next. His bindings extended around his whole body at three points over his chest, stomach, and calves. Fearful as it made him to admit it, this was looking increasingly like a kidnapping scenario. Such a thing was well within the realm of possibility for a businessman and tycoon of Carl’s impressive stature, but it came as such a surprise now, he found himself totally unprepared to handle it.
But he had to start somewhere. Spreading his knees as far apart as he could manage, the man noticed his seat was cotton-candy pink-colored, and judging by the discomfort in his rear end, made of plastic. Like some novelty oversized Barbie chair. This, combined with the fact that he was being imprisoned, should’ve been enough to worry Carl for the time being, but just then his attention shifted to something far more troubling.
Despite his discombobulation when first waking, he hadn’t been taken to some remote location, as he would’ve assumed. Instead, he realized he was right in his own lavishly decorated dining room, which still bore much of the expensive design that his bitch of an ex-wife had obsessed over for several years. Specifically, he and this chair were planted right on the mahogany dining table. The main reason Carl hadn’t recognized his surroundings at first was because the place, while admittedly spacious to begin with, had transformed into a staggeringly expansive hall, the table included. This was no optical illusion, though, no matter how hard Carl tried to squint through the blinding chandelier glow. The room was humongous or, as the man uncomfortably processed, he had become smaller.
Much smaller. Carl was starting to think this chair wasn’t so oversized after all. In fact, it was undersized for a roughly twelve-inch-tall human being who’d been shrunken beyond all biochemical rationale.
Then recollections began creeping back in. The man was so thrown off by his nakedness and miniaturization, he’d momentarily forgotten the previous hours, but it all returned at once. Arriving home from an average day at the office high-rise, he was irked to find his ex-wife Angelina’s car parked out front. She’d let herself in, even though Carl changed the locks, but before he could unload his latest witty insults, he noticed something very different about the ice queen, or rather, two things.
Despite Angelina’s slender frame, she’d surgically augmented her bosom to hulking proportions. Bulbous, jiggly, milky flesh practically spilled out of her top from the moment she came near. Carl wanted to send her packing, but the woman was flirting so desperately, which obviously made her the “loser” in a hypothetical rebound, he shrugged off the minor hit to his dignity in favor of a chance at those magnificent, meaty bags attached to his ex. Carl had always been a tit-man; he did, however, have to admit someone of Angelina’s thin shape looked a little strange with such enormous breasts. Luckily, that wouldn’t matter in the dark, once he was smothered between her boobs. Thirty minutes later, they’d each downed two glasses of wine and then adjourned upstairs for a roll in the hay, and Carl didn’t regret anything.
Until now, at least.
The blinding chandelier switched off, but there was still light in the room, provided by flickering candles dotted around the shelves and counters. Squirming harder than ever, but still finding his resistance pointless, Carl looked up, just as a towering female figure traipsed through the entryway. It was Angelina, of course, though it took a second for her ex-husband to clock her identity, owing to her formal black dress with its ghostly sheer sleeves and plunging neckline, as well as the fact that, by comparison to the newly doll-sized Carl, Angelina stood in excess of thirty feet tall.
“Oh, wonderful. You’re awake, darling,” Angelina announced. “Good. We have a lot to discuss.”
Speechless, Carl tried to channel his bewilderment into a demand for answers, but was caught so off-guard by his ex-wife’s appearance and sly smile, he was left sputtering. Most distracting were Angelina’s beach ball-like mammaries, which were all but busting through the seams of her skin-hugging dress. It was good the cut of the garment was so low, or those things surely would’ve broken free. Each step Angelina took closer to the table caused them to quake, vibrating and rebounding off one another at the tight fault line of her cleavage. Carl was almost certain her chest had grown even bigger since last night, though that could’ve been due to the fact that he was looking at a house-sized leviathan of a woman. It was tough for him to choose between focusing on his furious confusion or the probable fact that, given his new height, he could be one hundred percent submerged beneath just one of those pale, jiggly sacs the size of a boulder.
“Angelina, what the hell is going on? How did I get like this? What are you…” Carl scowled, but lost his train of thought once his ex reached the table.
Angelina leaned forward across the glossy surface, bracing herself up by long manicured fingers. Her sweeping black hair hung in a rich canopy around her severe yet hypnotically alluring features, and her smile had curved into a more sinister shape than ever. Most notable of all, though, was the phenomenon of her breasts rolling forward another few inches out the V-cut of her dress, revealing yet more thick, veiny flesh. Her mammoth tits were at the full mercy of gravity now, sagging lower the farther across the table she leaned, until the beautiful, haunting giantess was hunched directly over Carl. Inch by inch, she came nearer, until the hanging valley of Angelina’s baggy boobs menaced her ex-husband like a hungry vertical mouth.
“I’m sorry, what was that you were saying?” Angelina purred. A semi-drunken snicker rumbled in her throat. The woman brushed her hair out of her eyes and over her ear, but when she lowered her hand again, it didn’t slap back to the tabletop, instead hovering over Carl’s body, which he only realized now was held down by none other than rubber bands. Delicately, Angelina waved her svelte digits as though tickling piano keys, threatening to brush her pointed fingernails along Carl’s nakedness. He flinched, doing his best to worm backwards, but found himself powerless to get away.
“I… I was saying… no, I was telling… you’re going to explain yourself to me, right now. Seriously, what the hell was in those drinks? What are you playing at here?” Carl seethed. He had trouble keeping his composure, as his gaze kept instinctively flitting between his ex-spouse’s chocolate-brown irises above and her tempting fingertips coming so close to grazing him. His whole body winced when Angelina pressed her thumbpad against his chest, not out of pain, but with tactile confirmation of reality that he was, indeed, very tiny and hogtied in the clutches of the world’s most conniving gold digger.
“I expected you to react like this. Whining, complaining, throwing a fit when you’re finally faced with a problem you can’t just order your way out of,” Angelina said at her leisure, obviously not concerned with directly addressing the questions. Her finger stroked its way down Carl’s chest to his abdomen in a serpentine pattern that bordered on soothing. Even titillating. “But I have to say, this is still more entertaining than I could’ve possibly hoped for. It’s really something, you know, seeing you so small and vulnerable like this. I’m sure a lot of your employees wouldn’t mind the view either. Perhaps I should consider filming this and selling the footage.”
“What?”
“Don’t pretend you can’t see the possibilities here. You, so exposed and helpless. Me, so photogenic and knowledgeable in all the most amusing ways to play with you. For example…” Angelina drawled.
Her thumb darted between Carl’s thighs, which she caressed, before ladling her spiraled thumbpad right under her husband’s shrunken shaft. The man trembled again, but it was nothing compared to the jump he received when his uninvited guest’s index finger snapped down on the opposite side of his dick like a mouse trap, instantly pinching his manhood between a pair of fingers which pathetically dwarfed his inch-long instrument. Angelina giggled, rubbing his dick between her smooth fingertips, but adding pressure again just as quickly and clamping so hard and fast that all the air exited Carl’s lungs in a piteous wheeze. The whole time, her immense boobs remained in luminous orbit over the victim.
“See? Just like that,” she whispered.
Chapter End Notes:
Much more to come.