Darren hopped out of the car, the engine quietly grumbling to sleep as it shut down. A duffle bag stuffed with pads and cleats brushed against the center console as he carelessly dragged it out behind him. A bold red “43” was emblazoned across his back, with the crest of an eagle across his chest. His football helmet was left lazily on the floor of the passenger seat, the felt lining still damp with sweat from the day’s practice. Darren glanced at it, then shrugged, mentally justifying his laziness because his hands were full. Well, one was with the duffle bag, but whatever.

He twisted the key in the front door, the latch making an audible click as it opened. Darren dropped the duffle bag directly inside the door, the black canvas lump likely to live in that spot until someone tripped over it, or kicked it aside on their way out. Down the hallway, some sitcom was babbling away on the television, and Darren heard the clunk of the recliner’s footrest being stowed as he approached.  He rolled his eyes internally as his sister rounded the corner, a scowl already on her face.

“About time, loser,” she muttered. “Where’s the key? I need to get going already.”

Darren reached into his pocket and tossed the key ring at his sister. The metallic jingling curled through the air, his sister barely reacting in time to catch them.

“It’s almost on empty again, Sierra, and pretty sure it’s your turn to fill it.” Darren grumbled, glancing down at his phone for a moment. His sister glared at him, but said nothing in response. She walked past him as he tapped away at his phone, completely ignoring her presence.  

“Darren, what the hell?” She exclaimed, gesturing to the duffle bag, her neck leaning forward to emphasize her disgust. “Mom told you to stop leaving your bag by the door like that!”

“Good thing she’s not home till Monday then.” Darren didn’t even look up from his phone as he strolled into the living room, flopping onto the couch and proceeding to ignore his sister. Sierra continued to glare at her brother, huffing a blonde lock of hair from her face before turning on her heels and heading for the front door.

“You’d better move it by the time I get home, or I’m telling mom!” She hollered down the hallway as the door opened.

The front door slammed shut before Darren could utter a response, followed shortly by the car’s engine rumbling to life. Darren turned his attention back to his phone, scrolling through various posts and images while the television droned on behind him. The thought of a shower dwindled in his mind, the refreshing cool air of the A/C and fan lulling him into a relaxed state.

After thirty minutes or so, Darren reached over and grabbed the remote, muting the screen before him and setting his phone down. His eyes close for a moment, but before he can doze off, a surge of dizziness washed over him.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Darren groans, leaning forward and rubbing his temples. The room felt like it was spinning for a second, then his vision began to blur. The coffee table before him seemed to stretch on for miles, the television seemed distant like a billboard on the freeway. Darren shook his head from side to side, trying to brush off the weird sense of vertigo, but the sensation grew worse. His clothes felt baggy, and suddenly heavy.

Darren pushed against the armrest, struggling to stand. Something wasn’t right, the armrest felt... bigger. Darren glanced around, the room seeming to stretch away form him in all directions. Except it wasn’t the room that was changing size, but him!

“Shit!” He muttered under his breath, piecing together the symptoms in his brain as his adrenaline began to kick in. The armrest, once level with his knees, was now up to his waist, and rising quickly to pass his ribs. Darren tried to run for his phone before it was too late. It was resting on the couch cushions, which had already risen up to his shoulders. He stumbled in his ever-expanding clothes, his shirt like a canopy draped over his body. One misstep sent him tumbling face first into the floor, his shorts and shirt fluttering over him as he dwindled down further.

The room spun for another minute, and Darren was aware that the shrinking process was winding down, as the folds of cotton around him were no longer stretching away from him. He pushed himself up, a layer of his shirt providing a boundary between him and the carpet beneath him. The ground was spongy and gave slightly under his foot, like walking on a bowl of jello. Darren glanced around, deciding to push straight ahead. Hopefully, he could find a way out, and get his family’s attention. He trudged across the uneven surface, spotting a shaft of light ahead of him poking through the fabric. His pace quickened, but just as he reached what was apparently the neck hole of his now football field sized shirt, he heard a thunderous boom rippled through the air.

Someone was home.

Darren tried to get a better view and began to scramble up the folds of the shirt, hoping to attract the attention of whoever just came home. A moment after the door slammed shut, Darren could hear footsteps approaching, each rumbling thud growing louder as it got closer. The sound changed from a sharp impact to a dull pounding as the footsteps transitioned from hardwood to carpet.

Darren looked up in awe as the person rounded the corner, a mile high by comparison to him. A smile cracked across his face, and he began to shout and wave his arms above him. It was his mother, and probably the best case scenario for his rescue!

“Mom! Over here! I’m shrunk!” Darren hollered, jumping up and down with his hands waving frantically in the air. It looked like his mother was home early from running errands: a pair of shopping bags in her hands, and a slight sheen of sweat visible on every surface of her skin not covered by a navy blue sundress. Even from the minuscule perspective of the floor, he could see his mother’s gaze lower to the ground, and lock onto him. It worked! She had spotted him way down here!

“Ugh, that little brat never learns.”

Darren paused. That’s not what someone would say if they had spotted their shrunken son. He watched as his mother approached, her footsteps sending shockwaves through his whole body as they landed on either side of him. A colossal shadow fell upon him, and Darren almost wet himself as his mother’s hand reached down from the heavens and began scooping up the clothes he was standing on.

The movement sent Darren tumbling through the air, his sense of direction completely trashed as his mother hoisted the dirty laundry into the sky. He tried calling out, but couldn’t manage more then a syllable before he slammed into a fold in the clothing, the wind knocked out of him over and over. Suddenly, there was nothing around him, and Darren felt himself in a free fall. He screamed as he saw where he was falling, straight towards the neckline of his mother’s dress. He landed on his side, crashing into his mother’s left tit. The twin mountains of her breasts were soft, cushioning him from what would have certainly been a fatal fall, but Darren didn’t dwell on that thought long as he felt the squishy flesh beneath him ripple and undulate as his mother started walking.

“Mom, stop! I’m right here!”

His voice was too faint to carry his cries to her ears, but Darren kept shouting as he tried to regain his balance. The perspiration on her skin made it difficult, and one particularly firm footfall shook his footing loose. The incline beneath him grew steeper as he slipped further between the mountainous breasts, sliding to a holt once he was wedged neck deep. Darren grunted and tried to wiggle himself loose, but only seemed to be making his predicament worse. Another footfall jiggled the fleshy hills around him, swallowing Darren between the vast rolling walls of fat. He craned his neck to the side, frantically clawing for a way out as his air supply was blocked by the pliable flesh surrounding him on all sides.

Faintly aware of an irritation on her chest, Darren’s mother shifted her free hand up to her side, and gently squeezed her mammaries. She adjusted her bra for a moment, then hugged one arm across her chest and plunged a finger between her tits. The squeezing motion seemed to cause the itch to subside, but she scratched at it anyway as she dropped her son’s clothes in the laundry hamper. Satisfied the itch was gone, she removed her hands and walked back towards the kitchen.

Darren’s head was spinning from being struck by his mother’s colossal fingertips. He had been wedged back towards her sternum, which provide a bit of relief from the crushing grip of her cleavage. He could feel himself slipping further with each step though, and soon felt a cooler breeze of air across his feet. Soon, his legs were dangling freely beneath him, and Darren switched from trying to escape, to trying not to fall to his demise.

The rumble of his mother’s footsteps, combined with the lubrication of stale sweat coating his tiny body, proved to be more than he could resist, and Darren finally broke free from the humid cleavage. Panicking in his free fall, he looked around and saw that he was falling straight towards his mother’s feet. He screamed and covered his eyes as the skirt flared out, his mother’s leg propelling the canopy of fabric with a single footstep. Darren was swept up by the skirt, and hurtled across the room. Just before he slammed into something, Darren managed to curl up in a ball, hoping to lessen the blow from whatever he ended up slamming into. The impact hit him like a truck, sending a jolt of pain through his limbs and he tumbled for a few seconds, his small frame carrying a surprising amount of momentum from the skirt’s launch.

Darren laid panting on his back, his limbs sore from being tossed about like a rag doll. He had been flung onto to back of the couch, a few feet away from tumbling down onto the seat cushions. His mother wandered off towards the kitchen, unknowingly leaving her shrunken son behind on the couch. Darren didn’t care, alone meant he was safe for the moment, and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Resting his head back on the rounded cushion, he hardly noticed the sound of the front door opening and closing again, nor the approaching footsteps moving in his direction. However, the deafening voice of his sister causes him to jolt upright.

“Mom, I’m home!”

Darren looks up, and sees the titanic rear of his sister hovering at eye level with him. He doesn’t have a chance to shout before Sierra flops onto the couch, sinking into the soft material and deforming the couch around her ass and thighs. She leans back, casually pulling out her phone before she has even fully settled into the couch.

The initial impact of his sister’s butt on the couch was enough to destabilize Darren, knocking him to his knees. He looked up as Sierra’s back collided with the cushion he knelt on, propelling him forward. He screamed as her shoulder approached, a feeble bra strap the only decoration on her collarbones. Darren passed just to the side of Sierra’s braided hair, and bounced against the lonely bra strap. It felt moist under his palms, the light grey material a bit darker and damp with sweat from her workout.

Just as he turned to get her attention, Sierra wiggled in her seat, grinding her butt into the couch cushions in a side to side motion. Her shoulders pivoted back and forth, unwittingly giving Darren a ride not unlike a behemoth mechanical bull trying to buck him loose. At his tiny size, Darren didn’t have a chance, the damp fabric providing little surface to grip, and he tumbled further down his sister’s body. The perspiration on her skin provided a slick ride for him, his tiny body gliding down the length of the strap until he slid underneath the upper lip of the cup.

Sierra absentmindedly brushed her bosom, her mind too focused on her phone to pay much attention to the minor irritation on her chest. Her thumb hooked underneath one of the bra straps, raking upwards along the length of it before letting go and snapping it against her shoulder.

Darren squirmed as he was smushed against his sister’s breast. The warm flesh against his back was unbearably warm, and it conformed to his outline as he was gently pressed against the foam pad of the bra cup. He could hear the rustling of fabric above him, which at his size was a loud, grating noise. The bra pressed into him much harder for a moment, threatening to squeeze the air out of his lungs, but then relented after a few seconds. Darren panted, turning his head upward in the hopes of breathing easier. He could see a glimmer of light above him, which was quickly obscured by a rolling bead of sweat.

He yelped in surprise as the salty droplet splashed into his face, coating his naked form in Sierra’s perspiration. His eyes burned, squeezed shut to keep more of the sweat out. Coughing and sputtering to clear his mouth of the foul taste, Darren struggled against the constricting fabric, slowly moving himself lower in the massive bra. The sweat provided a little additional lubrication, but Darren was too busy squirming in discomfort to notice he was sliding deeper. It wasn’t until his foot brushed against a lump beneath him did he realize where he had ended up.

Sierra lowered her phone, and glanced at her chest. She had tried to ignore it, but it felt like something was wiggling against her nipple, and it was starting to annoy her. She slid her fingers down her cleavage, wrapping them around the curve of her left breast until her fingers surrounded her nipple. She idly rubbed for a moment, before she felt a lump squished between her nipple and index finger. Her eyebrows rose a tad, and Sierra retracted her hand, dragging the little lump along with it.

Darren tried to scream as the monolithic fingers intruded and began to mercilessly rub up and down his body, but all he got was a mouthful of breast flesh. He felt one finger push him firmly against the slightly hardened nipple, before dragging him out as the monstrous hand retreated. Light and cool air bathed over his tiny frame as he was brought out from the constricting bra, and raised into the air.

“What the hell...”

The booming voice of his sister made his ear ring, despite covering them with his hands. He was held between her thumb and forefinger, a teal painted nail on either side of him.

“Ugh, another one of those little shrinkie pervs. How’d you even get inside? You know what, I don’t actually care.”

Sierra lowered her hand towards her tummy, her midriff exposed between her sports bra and workout pants. She didn’t even think twice about trying to identify the tiny man, as all shrinkies in her mind were less than human once they shrank. Even if she knew one, Sierra wasn’t about them off the hook for being in places they shouldn’t. This wasn’t even the first tiny person that had ended up in her clutches. Plus, legally they weren’t even exactly protected citizens, as the law hadn’t been adjusted to include shrinkies yet. She could do whatever she wanted, and she knew it.

Darren shouted up at his titanic sister, waving his hands with the hope that she’d recognize him. He could just see her eyes peering over the crest of her bosom, a pair of emerald eyes glaring down from the heavens. The corners of his sister’s cheeks rose, indicative of a cruel smile he knew all too well from their childhood.

“Sierra! It’s me, Darren!”

His voice was too feeble to carry to his sister’s ears, not that he’d be able to change her mind at this point. Sierra always secretly enjoyed finding shrinkies, ever since puberty had led her to explore and stimulate her body.

“Buh-bye, bug!”

Sierra pulled the waistband of her pants forward, the inside of her pants and panties clearly visible to Darren as he glanced over the ledge of the fingers holding him. He felt his blood chill at the sight, but before he could protest, the firm pressure on his sides released. Darren tumbled head over heels down the length of Sierra’s tummy, rolling along the steep incline as she leaned back and watched the spectacle. Once he landed square in the center of her panties, she let go of the waistband, the stretchy material snapping into place. With a satisfied pat on her crotch, she crossed her legs and went back to her phone.

In the humid darkness of his sister’s underwear, Darren struggled wildly against the restrictive environment. The heat radiating off the fleshy walls was overpowering, much worse than when he was trapped in her bra. It was also much wetter here, and the smell was more than just sweat. The air was thick with a pungent feminine odor mixed with the scent of hard exercise, and Darren gagged a few times at the smell. He let out a short scream as the colossal thighs on either side of him moved, crushing him firmly against the slick walls.

Smiling at her phone, Sierra could feel the tiny squirms against her pussy, just below her clit. After a few minutes, she stood up, and hurried upstairs to her room. Closing the door swiftly behind her, she flopped onto her bed, one hand creeping beneath her waistband once more. Her middle finger found the shrinkie quickly, and she began to rub the tip of her finger in circles around her sensitive folds. She pictured what the miniature person must be going through, feeling their struggles intensify as she pushed them lower towards the entrance of her love tunnel.

Darren shouted in terror as he was nudged deeper, his skin rubbed raw from being scrubbed against Sierra’s labia. The small gaps of space created by the massive hand tucked in her panties gave enough illumination for Darren to see his surroundings. Before him was a gaping maw, pulsing and twitching with each subtle movement. It was both majestic and terrifying to him, mostly the latter. The finger behind him thrust forward, and Darren managed to gasp one lungful of air before he was plunged into the hungry cavern.

Sierra moaned softly as the squirming sensation moved about inside her. She fiddled with one hand beneath her bra, the other working furiously beneath her pants. Her breathing grew more erratic, followed by short, rolling muscle spasms and waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She panted softly as her hands retracted from her undergarments. She rolled onto her back, stretching out her legs and curling he toes as a smile spread across her lips. Her fingers glistened with her juices, a shrinkie glued to the tip of her index finger as she raised it to her face.

“Mmm, yummy...”

Her tongue extended from its lair, lapping at her pinky, then ring finger. Darren watched in horror, trying to break free from the viscous nectar holding him in place. As her tongue moved to her middle finger, Darren made eye contact with his sister, and he screamed as she winked at him. The slimy organ moved up and down each finger slowly, thin strands of saliva webbing among them as it lapped up her fluids.

Finally, Sierra moved her index finger above her mouth, and began to lower it slowly. Darren screamed as her tongue wrapped around her finger, and he was drawn into darkness. Sierra sucked gently on her finger, withdrawing it at an agonizingly slow rate. Her lips glided along her delicate skin, and her finger pulled loose with a wet pop, the tip of her finger visibly absent of a tiny passenger. She maneuvered her tongue around, swishing the tiny person around her mouth and bathing them in her spit.

Darren struggled in every sense of the word. He struggled against the agile muscle that tossed him from one side of the mouth to another. He struggled to catch a breath of air, muggy as a jungle and twice as warm. But mostly, he struggled to avoid the black pit at the back of her throat, knowing it would be a one-way trip if he was thrown down that slimy chasm. He fought for several minutes, his strength starting to wane as he was pinned to the roof of the mouth. He wretched as he felt the bumpy surface drag over his body, the grimy sensation leaving him nauseous.

Sierra slowly sat up, her tongue causing small indentations in her cheeks as she swished the shrinkie around in her mouth. She adjusted her shorts back into place, feeling a damp patch in her panties rub gently against her still sensitive crotch. A shiver of pleasure tingled up her spine, and her mouth opened slightly as she let out a gentle sigh.

Darren squinted as a wave of light poured into the humid cave, illuminating the treacherous landscape around him. He was just behind the lower front teeth, and he took the opportunity of her parted lips to make a mad scramble for freedom. Hoisting himself up on the razor sharp incisors, he quickly pushed forward and lept towards the light. His knees clipped the edge of the gigantic lower lip, throwing him into a tumble head over heels as he exited Sierra’s mouth. He was out!

A surprising twinge on her lip triggered Sierra to reflexively lick her lips, and it took her a moment to realize her squirming treat had wriggled away. She looked down towards the gentle touch she felt on her cleavage, a thin strand of saliva tracing down from the crease of her pouty lower lip to the chasm between her breasts. Between her comparably mountains boobs lay Darren, dazed from the fall. He had no time to react as the clawing fingers of his gigantic sister reached down from the sky once more, plucking him out of the warm embrace of her bosom.

Sierra lifted the tiny man up to her face, her fingers gently clamped on his ribs. She chuckled as the tiny tried to cover their exposed manhood, swatting at his hands with a single fingertip. The tiny’s voice was faint, but she could definitely hear them shouting at her. Probably begging for mercy and whatnot, something they all seemed to do while she played with them. She stopped, however, as her ears picked up a familiar word from the tiny yelling. A name, “Darren”.

She held the tiny closer, squinting to make out the details of the minuscule man. A sharp intake of air rushed through her parted lips as she gasped, finally recognizing the little person in her hand. It was her brother!

“Oh shit,” was all she muttered. Not that she was too embarrassed that she put her brother through all that, but the fact that he might tell their mother was an unpleasant idea. “Darren, is that really you?”

Darren shouted, alternating between waving his arms above his head, and pounding his fists the the knuckles of the colossal digits gripping him on either side. His movement stopped mid-swing when Sierra spoke, his heart skipping a beat that the realization that she had finally recognized him.

“Yes, it’s me!” He screamed. “Put me down, you’re squeezing me too tight!”

Sierra loosened her grip a fraction, but didn’t set Darren down. Her mind was flooding with scenarios that involved anything from her being grounded, to hearing about this incident nonstop from her brother for the rest of her life. A thought crossed her mind... their mother must not have noticed Darren earlier, or she would have mentioned it when Sierra got home. That meant only two people knew that Darren had shrunk, and Sierra quickly decided that it would stay that way.

“Did you tell Mom yet?” Sierra hissed, her gritted teeth just visible between her lips.

Darren shouted back, a hit of anger in his voice. “No, you asshat! I’ve been too busy getting abused by your psycho tiny games to do anything else! You’re lucky you didn’t squash me a minute ago.”

His attitude solidified Sierra’s decision: he wasn’t going to tell Mom.

“Good.”

Sierra’s lips parted wide, and her hand lifted into the air, an organic crane hoisting her brother into the air. Darren screamed as the titanic tongue rolled out of her maw, glistening with a fresh coating of spit. His scream lasted the whole way down, until it was abruptly silenced by Sierra’s jaw snapping shut.

It was just as humid as before, but this time Darren was legitimately terrified. He knew his sister had eaten a tiny or two before, and he shuddered to think that he might share that same horrible fate. He bounced against the slimy muscle as it undulated beneath him, working him further away from the entrance to her mouth. The hot, slick ground beneath him was beginning to show an incline, and Darren hollered for his sister to stop as he felt himself sliding backwards.

Sierra pooled the spit up in her mouth, and positioned Darren near the back of her throat. She parted her lips for a moment, allowing a sliver of light into her mouth.

“Good riddance, bro,” she murmured, the words a bit slurred as she talked with a lump in her throat. Not for long though, as her mouth closed once more, and she swished her spit back to swallow. Her throat spasmed open, and she felt a squirming lump slowly work its way down her neck, the sensation disappearing as she traced it down past her collarbone. A few seconds later, she felt a slight tickle in her stomach, and patted the spot where her brother was now trapped.

It was completely dark for Darren, but anything but quiet. The chorus of organs around him were almost deafening, the tempo set by the thundering heartbeat above his head. The smell was horrific, that of vomit but a hundred times more potent than usual. His lungs burned after his first breath, and he could already feel this initial kiss of digestive enzymes on his skin as he waded in the thick broth in his sister’s stomach. He screamed until his voice was hoarse, the acidic atmosphere stinging his throat. Pouring his fists on the stomach walls, Darren kept shouting and pleading to be released from this hellish landscape. His shouting was interrupted by a roaring groan that knocked him backwards into the caustic sludge.

“Probably the most useful thing he’s done all day,” she said to herself, smirking at her own comment. She sat down on the side of her bed, silently enjoying the frantic struggles coming from her abdomen. After a few minutes, she could feel the activity within her tummy gradually slowing down. Either he was giving up already, or her stomach acids were really starting to get to him. She smacked her midriff a few times, sending small ripples across her flesh.

“You better not have died on me already, wimp,” she sneered, prodding her tummy with one finger. She smirked as she felt the fighting in her stomach resume, followed by a rumbling groan. Her brother made a lousy snack, and Sierra realized just how hungry she was actually getting now that something was floundering around in her gut. She was about to get up when she caught a whiff of something cooking. She smiled, it was almost too convenient.

“Smells like it’s almost dinner time, think you’ll make it till then?”

She rolled over, laying down on her front, her weight against the bed further agitating the contents inside her stomach. She grabbed her phone, and idly swiped through various apps until her mother called up the stairs that dinner was indeed ready. Sierra slid off the bed, exaggerating her movements in order to slosh her stomach around. Darren was still alive in there, moving about as she walked down the stairs.

“Don’t worry, bro,” she mumbled to herself, “I’ll save you some food tonight.”