Kyle recognized the room as the same from the standard inter-size group therapy sessions they'd attended for weeks, but from the moment Roberta took them inside for their first couples therapy meeting, he understood the mood was different. It chilled him to the bone, despite how overheated he got while stuffed between his mom's swollen cleavage so deeply that he could scarcely feel the bottom half of his body. Three couples filed in ahead of them, plus the therapist herself. The "larger" better halves of each couple, the ladies, were happily gabbing with one another in the minutes before the start time, while each holding their men at various shrunken statures and differing degrees of intimacy. After everyone else sat down, Roberta took the last of the available chairs, giving her son an anxious view of their fellow therapy freaks while still couched between her breasts, which jiggled when she trounced her ass into the chair so hard it groaned.
The boy scanned the room, doing anything to keep his mind off the inevitable discomfort to come in this unholy space. One of the other women was actually surprisingly pretty, a smiley strawberry-blonde wearing a low-cut white top, probably in her mid-thirties, with a man roughly her same age perched on her knee at about ten inches tall. She bore a name tag reading "Betsy & Bill."
Beside her, in stark contrast, was a far uglier lady who made Roberta look almost like a plus-size model by comparison. Her tag said "Olga & Wayne." Despite looking no older than her early-forties, this one projected the look of a crazy cat lady, with wild bride-of-Frankenstein hair, drawn-on brows, and schlubby clothes. Her man, whom she kept grasped awkwardly in her bony hands like a personal stress ball, was also six inches tall, and wearing a neon-orange jump suit.
Past her was the therapist, cool and collected as ever, and finally in the chair beside Roberta was by far the most striking creature in the room, a woman whose personal gravity naturally drew Kyle's eye, and frankly she was a large enough being that if he was a bit smaller, he might've been literally pulled toward her like a planet.
This woman, who'd written "JOANNE" in huge letters while squeezing the word "Tommy" at the bottom of the name tag like an afterthought, was a sight to behold. Makeup plastered on her face, and artificially colored jet-black hair, couldn't conceal the fact that the woman was nearing her mid-fifties. Joanne was tall, a few inches more in fact than Kyle's own six-foot-two mother, which might've made her appear like an athletic amazon, if the rest of her figure wasn't filled in by generous girth to account for this stature, and then some. One might've considered hers an hourglass figure, if the lower portion of said glass widened to a dome twice the size of the upper. Despite a modest neckline to her oversized blouse, Joanne's enormous cleavage positively overwhelmed the fabric. Weighty as full saddlebags, her breasts sagged like twin pendulums, and when the gigantic woman leaned forward, their doughiness squashed and malformed against her wideset thighs. This dip granted Kyle the most unimpeded view yet of Joanne's limitless cleavage, which stretched so long down her hanging tits, it almost looked like a butt crack. With her breasts unwound like distended accordions, deeply ingrained stretch marks became visible along her weight-stressed boob flesh, marked as well by age-wrinkles, freckles, and a few raised moles, not to mention a crisped red-tan from sunbathing damage.
Still, despite the magnetic quality of such a mammoth rack to eyes as small as Kyle's, the feature he truly couldn't help but look upon like a passing car crash was her colossal ass. There was so much of it, packed skin-tight into her too-tight jeans, that the folds of denim-clad flab spilled well-over the edges of the chair on both sides. It was a wonder the seams didn't bust. Joanne's backside was truly a seat cushion unto itself, a source of begrudging respect as well as fear in Kyle, considering how much personal experience he with buttocks like those, knowing what they could accomplish on boys so fragile as him. Due to this bottom-heavy build, the woman was even more pear-shaped than Roberta, or perhaps more like a deflated November pumpkin, bulging widest in her lowest hemispheres. Since Joanne had marched just ahead of Roberta when entering the room, Kyle recalled the way her ample hips came close to brushing the frame of the door, and the little shimmy to the side she'd done just to ensure she cleared it without dragging her supple cellulite into the walls. Yet all this mass she wore with utter self-esteem, holding her head high and bearing a triumphant smirk on her face.
There was so much of Joanne to drink in, it wasn't even immediately apparent to Kyle that she'd brought a partner to couples therapy, but upon spying that name tag again on her voluminous dangling breast, he realized there was a boy his own age, but half his already-pathetic size, cramped in the woman's clawed hand under the heavy roof of her cleavage. While tough to discern from this distance at such a miniscule scale, the young shrinker was the physical opposite of Joanne: a slender, shrimpy, visibly timid geek. Kyle felt for this Tommy, reduced to the size of a finger in the hand of such a towering woman with multiple assets that could whack him unconscious if she turned around too fast, but then again, the three-incher was allowed clothes while camped freely in Joanne's palm: both luxuries that Kyle was denied while in his birthday suit and jammed amidst his mom's perspiring jugs.
"Scuse me, darlin', but I have to pay a compliment where it's due," Joanne spoke suddenly to Roberta, her cheerful nasally voice thick with New Yorker twang. Her twinkling eyes darted from Kyle's mother down to her cleavage, where the half-foot nudist resided. She pointed at Kyle, reaching almost near enough to prod him in the face, which would've surely pushed him yet deeper into the gulch of Roberta's chest. "This is an ingenious idea you've got here with that cutie so close to your heart. It looks so convenient! Just pop ‘em in there, and poof, you got both hands free again to get on with your life."
"Well, thank you," Roberta blushed. She unsubtly adjusted her cleavage, then pinched her son around his shoulders and slid him an inch higher up the valley between her rack to make him more visible to their new groupies. "It's very handy to have a place to put him at a moment's notice, but where I can still keep an eye on him. I always insist on knowing exactly where and what my baby's doing at all times."
"Same here, sister, and let me tell you, it's a real pain in the patootie sometimes with my boy," Joanne said. She held Tommy aloft, holding him down with her thumb so he didn't blow away like a leaf in the rush. "The circumstances that made my Tommy this small means he's stuck like this for... well, until the cows come home, I expect. See, he married young, then that bitch ran off with his money, but not before leaving him three inches tall... yada yada... and because you can only be registered to change sizes from one machine at a time... he's got no one to watch over him except his mama. Only, you can hardly stick a boy as short as him in your back pocket, can ya? I'd pop him like a cranberry the first time I sat down too fast! Can't really keep him in front either, either, since my family's always been big-boned, and I don't wanna risk him getting stuck in the wrong spot."
By way of demonstration, the outgoing giantess ran a finger along the paunch of her love handles just above the place her pocket would've resided, then did the same over the hump of her breast where it came close to plopping atop her knee again. While swinging her hand about, her fingers closed around Tommy, who at three inches just had to go along for the ride, even when his mother nonchalantly pressed the chubby oval of her thumb over his face. Only Kyle seemed to notice his fellow Oedipal shrinker's panged gasping when the finger was removed, while the pair of plump giant mothers carried happily on.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," Roberta sighed, momentarily making her son believe she actually sympathized with Tommy, before the truth came out: "That must be terribly tricky for you to have to work around, when you can't make him big enough to endure a little more. Oh, I feel for you, dear. Joanne, isn't it? Your son is lucky to have you, though, especially after choosing a wife so poorly, it sounds like."
"You're too kind. But hey, lookin' on the bright side of life, my boy always was trusting. Too trusting, if you ask me. And he paid the price for it. Now I can keep an eye on him twenty-four-seven, and make sure no more grubby-handed gals take anything else away from him," Joanne chuckled. She shrugged, then using her free hand, began prying the flanks of her immense breasts apart to make room between, an act that clearly took some effort, while gravity and the natural swell of her tit flesh ballooned around her fingers. "Thanks to you, though, now I've got the perfect compromise. A place where I know my little Tommy will be kept safe and sound, where he can't go worming around or getting stuck in places he shouldn't be."
As Tommy was lifted up toward the mushy divide of his parent's intimidating mammaries, Kyle could see the fearful panic in the lad's face, even while he kept it bottled up under the thumb of his bubbly loudmouthed monster-mom: a sickness that Kyle himself knew all too well.
"Forgive me for being forward, but if I could make a suggestion?" Roberta humbly added.
"Certainly!" Joanne said, pausing mid-tuck, with her three-inch offspring dangled precariously among her trunk-like fingertips. Her eyes lit up. "We can use all the help we can get, believe me."
"You might try freeing him up a little, if you know what I mean," Roberta innocently murmured, as though recommending an item on a restaurant menu. Her fingertip swirled on top of Kyle's head, roughly massaging him while inadvertently causing his little hips to gyrate against the dual mounds of oily flesh which confined him so tautly. "I can tell you it gets awfully itchy if you've got him in there with his clothes still on. But with skin on skin, let's just say there's a reason they teach new mothers about the importance of personal contact with their babies, and I think it's just as necessary now, if not more so, even though my baby became a little man."
"Oh, I like it!" Joanne gushed. She suspended her little son before her eyes. "That's some genius idea, isn't it, Tommy? It'll be much comfier for you too, won't it now? And... see, I know this will stay between just all of us in this room, but things can get just a bit hot and bothery between my girls. Especially when the humidity's this high. Now, a little sweat never hurt anybody, but the last thing we need is Tommy slipping around and getting both of us chafed up. No, No. All right, Tommy sweetie, don't be shy now. Mama's gotta follow the nice lady's advice."
The three-inch nerd was helplessly turned around in his mother's chubby fingers. When she swung him backwards to work on tugging down his pants, Kyle's shrunken peer glared at him, though of course there was nothing either boy could've done now. Joanne was much clumsier at declothing her child than Roberta, who had gotten so efficient she could have Kyle undone faster than a candy wrapper, but after multiple pulls at his tinker-toy-like outfit and a few muted squeals, Tommy lay nude in his mother's pillowy palm.
"Aww, just look at Mama's little darlin'," she cooed. "You really are precious, aren't you, Tommy? To tell you the truth, I thought it might be a little awkward, you know: a mother seeing her grown son with nothing between us. But now that we're here, it's not much different than the view when you were little. Oh, you know what I mean. Really little, when you were too young to change yourself."
"We've found it just brings us closer, personally," Roberta chimed in. She held her own naked boy up again for demonstration. "When there are no secrets of any kind between a mother and son, you can enjoy much more open communication in all things. Everything just... fits better."