Giantess World
Still delirious, only now from a combination of hysterical denial and his accumulated injuries, Kyle soon found himself swaddled in a soap-swamped washcloth, while Joanne’s fingers probed him from the soggy opposite side. It might’ve felt good to decompress and wash away the fluids following so much trauma, if not for the needling anguish all across his tiny body that was just made worse by the woman’s indecent suds-massaging. Somewhere beyond, Roberta was rinsing Tommy off over the bathtub, just to make sure his time spent as her best friend’s toilet paper was hygienically dealt with, before she finished their son-swap and disappeared for God-knew how long. Despite comprehending worse than ever now the precise cost of argumentative crying in his mother’s presence, Kyle couldn’t keep the sobbing chirps from exiting his lips, especially by the time Joanne had finished soaping and rinsing him over.
The moment he emerged from under the washcloth, there was barely an instant to glimpse Joanne’s eerily-dull yet doting expression suddenly filling up as view, as she cupped him toward her thin recently-licked lips. Immediately the giantess’s firm pucker wrapped around Kyle’s flaccid groin, hotly moistening the area while mushing the tip of her tongue against its lifeless form.
“You did such a marvelous job, sweet thing,” Joanne uttered in a gnarly whisper under her breath meant just for Kyle to hear, though not fully disengaging her lips from his lower body either, as she proceeded to suckle upon his yet-unresponsive member even more fervently, using hard suction and saliva-tackiness to make up for his total lack of erection. She batted his floppy protrusion against her taste buds, deflating and then puffing her cheeks with feigned effort. “Really somethin’ else, just like she said. Much better than my boy can do, I’ll tell ya that much. Now why don’t you let Mama Joanne show you just how we say thank-you around here for a job so goddamned well done?”
Even if his thoroughly-exhausted cock wasn’t feeling like a broken slinky, though (which it was), Kyle couldn’t imagine how he could’ve ever found this an enticing enough scenario to begin stiffening for Joanne’s ill-timed BJ. His mother had put him in similar positions many times before, of course, and her misguided sexy-talk partnered with her invasive practices never failed to disgust him to his very bones, particularly given the pale landscape of tubby sweat-glossed curves so visible below. The view from up close was even worse, though, as the clamping-down of her upper lip atop his waist meant Kyle was staring directly at the subtle but still-distinguishable peach fuzz hair dotting the area just below her flared nostrils, not to mention the crow’s feet crinkles at the corners of the middle-aged ogress’s eyes that only deepened when she closed them tightly in a pathetic show of passion. His skin absolutely crawled just to look at her, and all the more so while her drool-lubed lips and meaty unrelenting tongue went to town on his obviously unaroused rod, which didn’t have even a prayer of going hard, given the current maelstrom of this unflattering view and his amalgam of dire hurts.
Or so he thought. Though there wasn’t enough energy left in Kyle for him to give forth much of a rise below the belt, his dick miraculously began to respond after a couple sustained minutes of Joanne’s regrettably excellent blowing technique, in spite of everything he was seeing, smelling, and feeling from her. Her tireless licking, forcing his thighs into a bronco-riding position against its slimy pink firmness, while perfectly alternating the temperatures, air direction, and pithy slobber-ingrained sensations all worked so well together, against all Kyle’s best judgment and his overall mood of stone-cold dread, and eventually forced his half-mast hard-on to completion, impressively inside of only four minutes. It was an unexpected finale, but then again, much of today was defying Kyle’s already-warped perceptions of what his repugnant mother-enslaved reality could become next.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Joanne tittered in a sultry murmur, even winking at her secured inmate during his frightened orgasmic afterglow. “You and I… oh, we’re going to have such a time together.”
Once both newly traded shrunken sons were freshly swabbed, and one’s unwilling cock was tongue-christened, Roberta prepared to take her leave of Joanne and her own once-rebellious shell of a boy. Getting dressed, she first pulled up her panties tight against her private garden into a dewy camel-toed impression, only to tug the waistband away again with three-inch Tommy in-hand, whereupon she nestled him snugly into an embrace among her widespread pube thicket and the puffy labial divide beneath. Despite it all, though, Tommy’s usually-catatonic expression showed a hint of relief, which Kyle could understand, considering his current position was a definite upgrade from serving as his astronomic portly-reared owner’s post-BM wiper. He was about to get a break from his monstrous mother, however temporary. Once Tommy vanished down there and Roberta was fully outfitted again, the women said their goodbyes and good lucks, promising to connect again very soon to exchange progress reports and give one another any relevant tips when it came to caring for their sons. There was no more word of warning from Roberta to Kyle, no sarcastic apologies or disappointed denouncements: just a passing eyebrow-raised glance, as if daring him to let her down ever again. And then just like that she was gone, and he was left alone with Joanne, shivering and pain-wracked and wondering if there was anything he could’ve possibly done today to keep himself from landing in this rock-bottom reality.
For a while, Joanne just stood directly before the front door to her house after it was deadbolted closed again and Roberta was long-gone, as if to rub in the finality of Kyle’s current predicament. Probably against every natural instinct she had, though, the mastermind of this boy-trafficking contract between the totalitarian mothers didn’t continue gabbing at him right away. Instead, with the tearful psycho-sexually disturbed six-incher still splayed nakedly in her open hand, Joanne took to caressing his body under thick velvety-smooth fingertips, and peppering his frame with loud saliva-squealing kisses. A few of these gestures were paid to his still-recuperating junk, twiddling his nubby shaft against her thumb after an especially gummying smooch that feather-tickled her ultra-fine upper lip fuzz on his stomach, but mostly the giantess simply petted her new charge’s sore frame. Perhaps she did this with intent to soothe his evident woes, though just as easily, Kyle could believe she did it to affirm her absolute control over him right from the off.
Satisfied at last, Joanne lethargically stomped back up to the master bedroom with Kyle still in her caged palm, placing him upon the pillow only for long enough to readorn her girthy wide-shouldered elephantine physique in a contour-taut nightgown practically scant enough to be a spandex bodysuit, at least around her sizable assets. The moment she was dressed again for bed, then, the thunderously giggling giantess had Kyle in her grasp again, and with her free hand to wedge her swollen mature-freckly saddlebags apart, planted the boy directly into the humid sweat-misted embrace of her enormous cleavage, until only his head still poked up from the fleshy fault line. The pressure from her enclosing tit bulk again sent him into a wincing frenzy due to the forces exerting on his wounds from every angle, though the perspiration-oily terrain at least helped alleviate enough of the brunt to keep him from yelping aloud. Once the giantess appeared certain that he was positioned to her liking, then, Joanne closed her eyes and bowed her head again, coming straight toward his boob-incarcerated body with those winnowing spit-laced lips. Even more stuck now than he’d been minutes before, the boy passively braced himself to be sucked free again for another tonguing assault on his loins, only to instead merely receive a saturating kiss to his entire head that threatened to gulp it straight inside her mouth like a lollipop.
“You certainly can be quite the little troublemaker, that much is true,” Joanne announced in a seductive purr to her mammary prisoner. “But, I can tell you mean well, and that’s what matters. A mother just knows. Even if you’re not my son. Still, I have a good feeling that by the time you finally go back home to your real one, no matter how long it takes, you’re going to feel just as close to me as you already are to her. And, gosh… that’s just the loveliest thing for me to think about. I know deep down, too, that you agree.”
As the despondent boy had no imaginable response to this loathsome declaration, Joanne was too lost in her own optimistic semi-lustful headspace to do anything now but climb into her threesome-splattered bed for a much-needed rest. Reclining majestically on her side while burrowing under the sweaty covers, Kyle’s new mother-away-from-mother switched off the bedside lamp, and slipped into a gleeful slumber within minutes. In the darkness, then, the boy was serenaded by growly nasal snores from Joanne as catastrophically loud as a snorting swine the size of a zeppelin. Resigned, the six-inch captive was left to deplorably contemplate his badly-uncertain future, while purposefully smothered under what felt like a sweat-sizzly metric ton of corpulent, spongy, boulder-esque boob landmass for the first of many dreadfully sleepless nights to come.
Chapter End Notes:
This is technically the end of this story's P.S. but the P.P.S. is coming up next.