If anything, what she had done to her little toy had made her even hornier. Within the hour, she could literally feel her vagina throbbing with her heartbeat. She started having fantasies of fucking the first stranger she could find, shrinking the man down to an eighth of an inch and letting him ride it out inside her. God, the idea was appealing, but she reminded herself wearily that she had a boyfriend. No matter how horny she was, it wasn't worth it. That would have to wait until later.
She kept fantasizing about it, though, deciding that, when the time did come, she could take up in the little man's mind. Feel the heat and passion of their love from as close as physically possible.
After a while, a thought occurred. This little man was basically her toy, right? It wasn't cheating on her boyfriend to use him any more than it was to use a dildo. She had full control over his size, too, from a fraction of an inch to six feet tall. Meaning that she didn't always have to just use him as a dildo; if she wanted some dick, she could just make him give it to her.
God, the very idea made her quiver in anticipation. She could grow him to full size, take control of his brain, and fuck herself senseless. She could even let him experience it through her eyes. Oh, that sounded perfect.
She practically ran home, hardly able to wait any longer, and quickly stripped herself naked. Her new underwear had a quickly-growing stain of lubricant in the crotch now too, but she kicked it to the side. She lay down on the bed and dug the tiny man out of her vagina, tossing him down on the floor like the rest of her clothes. Then she closed her eyes and, at the same time, put her mind into his, put his mind into hers (but left out any control over her limbs), and grew him to six feet tall.
When her perspective shifted into his eyes, he was still growing, now about three feet tall. The lubricant that had coated his skin when he was tiny had spread so thin that she couldn't feel it at all. She was naked, a full six feet tall in only a few more seconds, and already hard.
She looked down and saw her naked body, seemingly unconscious and sprawled across the bed. With a bit of a shift in focus, she made her own eyes open and meet those that she was looking through now. So there she was, in the body of a man, looming naked over her own limp body, staring at herself with an eager look on both their faces.
She knew that her toy was looking back up at her, fully aware of what was about to happen but completely unable to move, even to look away. Which was fine by her; she wanted him to see and feel what it was to be Emma Watson, and what it was to be fucked.
Without any delay, she picked up both of her own legs, slid between them, and just started pounding.
It was, without a doubt, the weirdest, most helpless, and pleasurable sensation he had ever felt. Staring up at himself, feeling a cock stroke rapidly in and out of an organ that he had never had. It felt good, and the pleasure built with every thrust.
This was rape, no doubt about it, but how could he tell anyone what had happened, even if he got the chance to? The experience was so bizarre that it was hard for him to enjoy, and, sooner than he would have thought, it was over. With one, final thrust, he felt the cock inside him flex, shooting hot fluid that he could feel with astonishing sensitivity.
A few more weak thrusts, leaking more cum and spreading it all over her insides, and he pulled out, crashing down on the bed beside him immediately.
Then he was moving. Emma was back in her own mind. She stood up, and he could feel the cum running down, the warm tingles of a still-raw vagina. She looked down at his body and he saw it rapidly shrinking, already barely a foot tall.
Oh no, God no. But he couldn't do anything as his body finished shrinking, probably no more than four inches tall or so now, and Emma reached down to grab it.
As soon as her fist wrapped around his torso, his mind shot back into his own body, and he was staring up at a naked giantess who hardly even had concern enough to look at him as she spread her legs slightly and brought him down between them. He could see the milky white fluid leaking out of her insides. A thin haze coated her entire swollen crotch like a glazed donut, and a single, slimy drop formed on the wrinkled flesh of her labia, threatening to fall at the slightest motion.
That was his cum. A thin five milliliters of fluid that, at this size, was gallons of sticky fluid. Emma spread her lips with her free hand, showing the pink flesh and the white stream of fluid that flowed from within it. Then, without delay, she shoved him headfirst into her vagina.
Instantly, he was once again surrounded in heat and pressure, immersed in sticky, cloudy-white fluid, a mixture of her lubricant and his own cum. He struggled vainly, revulsion rising in his gut, but the walls absorbed all of his best efforts, and he quickly ran himself out of breath. He had tried to stop from breathing the disgusting, viscuous mix of bodily fluids, knowing that he didn't really need air anyway, but his burning lungs would not be denied. He gasped for air, and instead felt the hot fluid sliming its way down his lungs.
He choked and coughed, disgusted by the sensation, but he couldn't help but gasp for more, as if it were fresh air he were drawing into his lungs and not gallons of his own cum. Finally, he got himself under control, but there was no use trying to resist it. This was his life now. Heat surrounded him and filled him; he couldn't even close his eyes and pretend it wasn't happening, because the pounding of Emma's heartbeat, the squelching of wet flesh, filled his ears. All he could do was wait and hope that the next time she masturbated would be a chance at fresh air.
Probably the biggest advantage that men had, Emma thought, was that they didn't need to worry about leakage after sex. She wiped up her crotch and made sure to put a pad in her underwear, but she'd be oozing the cum, drop by drop, for the rest of the day. The silver lining to all of it was that her little toy would have to spend that whole time swimming in it. She couldn't think of a way to more thoroughly humiliate him than to leave him to stew indefinitely in his own semen.
Despite the release she had gotten while in his mind, now that she was back in her own, she was feeling a bit sexually frustrated. She thought that she had done well, but she had really only lasted a few minutes. Not like she had had much experience at having sex as a man, but her performance really hadn't been that great. She, as in her own body, hadn't finished. She hadn't even come close.
The result was a profoundly dissatisfied feeling. She thought that she could wait until her boyfriend came home, but she really couldn't get her mind of the little man inside her. He wasn't moving enough to be stimulating, just enough that she couldn't really forget about him. She could fix that, but didn't really want to be sucking down lungfuls of cum any more than he did, and, if she wanted to use him to orgasm, she'd have to enter his brain and make him move manually.
Well, she had gotten this far without a living toy. She crashed on the bed and spread her legs, pulling her panties up to her knees, and started to masturbate.
If Aaron had been paying attention, he would have noticed that the opening few inches of Emma's vagina started to shift unpredictably. He was too busy being disgusted by the sperm and lubricant sliding down his throat to catch that little detail, though, so the first indication that he had that the giantess was masturbating was a bone-crushing contraction of her pelvic muscles.
He was just sitting there, trying to breathe as little as possible, his arms held fast against his body and his legs pressed close together by the already-tight walls of the woman's vagina, when her heartbeat started to pick up pace. Then, without warning, the walls around him turned to steel and clamped down hard on his body.
The pressure was incredible. He was already squeezed into as small a volume as possible, but her pelvic muslces threatened to break his bones. The contraction seemed to last forever, though it couldn't have been more than a second or two. Unable even to draw breath amidst the pressure, his eyes felt like they would pop out of their sockets. And then, as suddenly as it had come, it was over. Reflexively, he breathed deep, and realized what he was breathing as the warm slime filled his lungs, and he began coughing uncontrollably.
Before he could recover, the giantess' vagina contracted again. The elastic walls snapped in at him from all sides, the gentle textures compressing and grabbing at every limb with brutal force. He let out a gasping scream at the sudden crushing pressure, but it came out as more of a choking gargle as viscuous bodily fluids came flowing from his mouth.
Again, the moment the contraction subsided, he couldn't help but breathe deep in his relief, hating himself for doing it. But, even faster than the second, another contraction came, brief but powerful. Then another, and another, and another.
Through the torturous cycles of contraction and release, Aaron could hear Emma's heartbeat racing, he could even hear pleasured moans through the tons and tons of flesh that surrounded him. She was masturbating. It probably wasn't that intense for her, but, holy shit; he would give his life to have it end right now.
But it didn't end, and he didn't die. He couldn't. He could just lie there, subjected to the cruel force of the giantess' pelvic muscles as she worked her way to orgasm.
She probably only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like forever, and he lost track of the number of contractions. He was just barely given enough time to recover from one before another tried to kill him. They came one after the other, reaching a sort of rhythm but each one stronger than the last, until she finally came.
That was impossible to miss. Her pelvic muscles clamped down with force like nothing else he had experienced. She had squeezed him with both her fists and it was nothing compared to this. His lungs were forced empty, his eyes felt like they were about to pop out of his head. He fought and pushed with all his might but couldn't even budge a finger. The flesh of her vagina had turned to stone and folded over every curve of his body like latex.
It lasted forever, too. He would have been ground to paste if he had been limited by normal physiology. And then, when it subsided seemingly hours later, it was followed by a rapid set of smaller contractions, slapping down on him with barely time to take a breath between, but growing slowly weaker and further apart.
Eventually, it all finally stopped. Her body still throbbed around him, her heartbeat pounding, the walls of her vagina pulsing, the heat so strong that it was a physical presence. But, at the very least, the contractions stopped, leaving him to recover as best he could while surrounded by flesh and fluid.
But what next?