Giantess World
Angelina cradled her boob like a pitcher, then proceeded to pinch her fingers and clap her hands together at once, simultaneously opening the plump spigot and pulsing a larger payload of milk toward the opening. At once, a burst of frothy milk spewed from her monumental can. This time, the creamy liquid was delivered not in a concentrated stream, but rather an explosive spray that indiscriminately soaked every remaining spot of Carl’s shrunken body that was spared during the last dosage.
“Whoooops, how clumsy of me!” Angelina sang. “Oh, well. It would be a terrible shame to waste it all. Come on now, dear. Drink up. You’ve got to have your medicine if you’re going to be able to think clearly, after all. So open wide and enjoy!”
In that single blast of rapidfire mother’s milk, the Barbie chair was knocked clean over. The doll-man couldn’t help but shriek again, foolishly allowing in another few mouthfuls of his ex-wife’s lactation to roll down his throat. As he was now lying down on the table, he was forced to choose between gulping down the damning fluid or drown via milk-boarding.
Without skipping a beat, Angelina leaned further down and re-angled her teat to ensure Carl received every last drop. Meanwhile, the rest of his body stewed in the potent chemical weapon that was Angelina’s milk, dripping from every angle and becoming gooier as the previous white tide congealed on his body, ensuring its shrinking effects were allowed to continue compressing him. Indeed, Carl was already visibly ticking down, and by even larger increments this time. A flash later, the hapless loudmouth was down to seven inches tall. Angelina’s breast still faithfully hovered over him like a fat blimp in the sky, allowing continual dollops of milk to drool out of her hardened nipple and plunk right on his lips and nose.
Andy was mesmerized. His cock already grossly dwarfed Carl after the shrinkage to ten inches, but by the combination of this latest spritz of warm dairy, and the scientist’s ever-stiffening cock, there was no competition now. If Andy’s member was a python, it could’ve surely swallowed Carl whole. The man couldn’t help but encourage his erect pole by stroking with both hands, though it was obvious Andy wasn’t yet fully used to his mega-sized hardware.
“H-Hey… t-this isn’t fair… when we split up, we both had our say in c-court, Angelina,” Carl sputtered. He coughed up the dregs of the milk, then blinked as much of it out of his eyes as he could muster, though plenty still sopped into his skull. “B-But you’re just taking advantage of me here. H-How do you expect me to… work with you, under these conditions? Make me big again, then I p-promise… we can work something out! D-Don’t all those years we spent together mean anything to you?”
“Awww… sounds like somebody’s going to an emotional place now. What, is it getting to be a bit much for you, little one?” Angelina cooed with uncharacteristic gentility, given her earlier callousness. The longer she spoke, the higher her pitch rose, even getting softer all the while. Still, she kept her formidable breast mass dangled right over Carl, ready to pump a fresh wave of milk at a moment’s notice from between her fingers. “I hope you don’t sound like this when you’re talking to your employees, or there would be no one left on Earth who respects you. All that babbling and stuttering, like some little boy who wet his pants during show-and-tell time at big-kid school. No, no, it’s all right, Carl. You’re naked as a newborn, you’re nice and comfy in your dolly chair, and you’re getting an all-you-can-drink buffet of yummy milk. Why shouldn’t you embrace it?”
“Aren’t you h-hearing me, Angelina?” Carl panted. His heart was railing in his chest, now terrified of another surge of his ex-wife’s disintegrating formula being produced from her chest. Judging by the eye-boggling scale of those two chubby, sallow tits, which only seemed to have inflated still bigger during this whole ordeal, there was plenty left in the tank with which to torment the little man.
“Yes, I’m hearing you, dear, it’s just not quite what I want to hear yet. Try again.”
“Okay, how about this! Y-You grow me back, and I swear, we will find a way to c-compromise!”
“Oops! There’s a no-no word, little fella. “Compromise” isn’t in my vocabulary tonight, and neither should it be in yours,” Angelina warned.
Carl flinched, but was not immediately smeared with another punishing round of buttery drink. Instead, Angelina lovingly released her grip on her left boob, then proceeded to peel back the sleek black fabric of her dress which still scarcely contained the opposite breast. The threads were being tested as it was, stretched between the wide separated valley of her cleavage, and popped free just in time to bring Angelina’s right breast out to play as well. Now half-naked herself, Angelina shimmied her hips, to show off the full range of jiggling motion for her twin set of blubbery, pasty boobs the size of airbags.
“Why don’t you get us both a drink, Andy?” Angelina coaxed, though her gaze never left her crumpling ex-husband. She winked again. “Just be sure it’s only wine in those glasses and not any of my milk. We wouldn’t want to deprive little Carl here, would we? No, no. We want him to have it all.”
Andy looked slightly dejected having to tear himself away from the site of his greatest fantasy, but he nodded, then took the enormous appendage of his hard-on in both hands and waddled to the bar in the adjoining room. While glasses clinked and libations were poured, Angelina leaned down lower over the table, and deepened her voice to a throaty curl, just for Carl’s tiny ears.
“Get it through your funny head, baby. There are no compromises. No negotiations here. Not anymore. Either you give me every last dime I’m after, or this will go even more poorly for you. Now, if I’m not mistaken, we’ve still got to put you in time-out for using the c-word, like a bad boy,” Angelina explained in her ga-ga tone. Taking hold of her right breast, still fully tanked with size-stealing elixir, she nudged the spiked nipple against Carl’s cheek. He moaned, rocking from side to side, but now too weak to even stagger the chair. Milk still dripped down his reclined body, so there was nowhere for him to go as Angelina’s tit took aim again from a millimeter away.
Only this time, the woman didn’t punch her palms into the flab for a dairy bomb, as Carl was expecting, but rather positioned her hands in a very precise manner. Then, she began to tweak her duct, but only gently, and strategically limited the stream of milk to a piddling consistency. It rewetted Carl’s squirming self, but kept the creamy outpouring on his face. Rather than treating her boob like a whoopee cushion, Angelina instead handled it with the expert craft of a baker squeezing cake frosting from a tube. The quiet assault carried on for far longer this time, and after close to a minute, she showed no signs of breaking.
“GOD, STOP THIS! P-PLEASE!” Carl roared. He took a deep breath to shout again, but his cheeks were filled with milk, as per usual, and opening his lips to spit up only succeeded in allowing in more warm droplets as replacement. The man hacked and sputtered as milk rained down.
“Hmm, what’s that, little one? Did you say something? Are you crying for your mommy?” Angelina coyly teased. “It’s difficult to hear you while you’re trying to talk with your mouth open, Carl! Didn’t anybody ever teach you it’s impolite to speak while you’re eating? Well, let this be a lesson to you now. Finish your yummy meal, then you can tell me what’s going on in that adorable head!”
She subtly redirected the flow of her nipple, painting her ex-husband’s whole body in the seemingly everlasting stream of maternal liquid, but quickly returned to dousing his face before he could gather his bearings again. White puddles formed around Carl’s body, dripping off every side of the chair in chalky cataracts, but the majority of the sweet nectar was absorbed into the little man himself, and accordingly robbing him of even more stature.
Andy hobbled back with two brimming glasses of red wine just in time to catch the tail-end of this latest trick from Angelina’s breasts. She’d sustained an unbroken stream for several minutes now, and if anything, the weeping current of milk had thickened. Carl was shrinking faster than ever now, but Angelina made no attempt to pause. Her ex passed below six inches, then five and four, then finally down to three. Only the middle layer rubber bands were still in use, and unlike when this grungy affair began, Carl now looked like a doll sitting in a chair made for an average human, rather than the other way around.
Angelina at last took a rest, if only because the wine had arrived, and let her saddlebag boobs hang freely again. She took a hard slurp from her glass, posing a fist on her hip and admiring her handiwork in the form of her finger-sized, milk-sopping, battle-ravaged ex-husband below still fighting for a clean breath not tainted by heavy cream. Andy had dropped his erection back on the edge of the table, but barely touched his own drink, to maintain his composure and memorize every sordid detail on the most erotic night of his life; he’d quickly returned to clumsily petting and maintaining his arousal.
The buxom mastermind polished off her overfilled wine glass, then set it down. When Andy made no move on his own, she began stealing sips from it as well. She wiped a sheen of glistening perspiration off her brow, then swept a similar layer out from the canyon between her bulging tits. A mischievous smile gleamed on Angelina’s lips the wider they spread, and it was clear she was now enjoying herself nearly as much as her horny new partner.