Tommy lay in an exhausted heap on the kitchen table, disoriented like he'd been lost in a desert for a week, even though he'd merely been crammed into the dank, follicle-scratchy sweat-trap of Joanne's crack for less than an hour. Staring hazily up the twin hills of his mother's blubber-lush rack resting imposingly on the tabletop beside him, their bloated shapes now only tokenly contained by her shirt, the boy tried to convince himself that the last ninety minutes were just a fever dream brought on as a byproduct of his depression at being left a three-inch wreck in his overbearing mother's care. Joanne had always been a hands-on kind of parent, yes, neurotically babying her shy nerdy lad well into his adolescence, but surely it was a bridge too far even for her to decide that they were better off not just as the world's most disgustingly close mother and son, but as a bona fide couple.
Yet the reek of caustic anal sweat and foul sticky-aired farts couldn't lie, and they hung on Tommy's naked frame like a demonic presence, making it impossible to forget for more than a few bleary seconds at a time that Joanne had in fact pocketed her son between her ass cheeks, raked him through the kinky hairs, and pressed him head-first to her downspout right before she cut the cheese. Barely an inch away, within reaching distance in fact, his giant mother's hardened left nipple pressed insistently through the cloth as though tempting Tommy to snatch it. He couldn't have done so even if he wanted to, though, being so worn-out internally and externally from the fusty ride home in Joanne's plus-size underwear. With that erect teat reaching for him, surrounded by the prickly ring of a pepperoni-sized areola that steadily poked out from the falling neckline of her shirt, not to mention the smog from Joanne's fresh sweat and pungent gas still clouding the vicinity, there was absolutely no denying that everything in the last hour had happened exactly as Tommy fitfully recalled.
"Sorry, sweetie. I almost forgot how warm out it was. But, I'm not a miracle worker, ya know? Pigs can't fly, bears shit in the woods, and big butts get a little ripe when it's toasty out. That's just how the world spins," Joanne gabbed. She drummed her thick-trunked fingers on the table next to her son, obviously contemplating scooping him back up for even more creative misery, but restrained herself, instead balling a fist. "And, well, fair's fair: it was a little bit of a struggle with the gas, wasn't it? Yes, I know, how SHOCKING for a woman to actually admit she has to toot now and again! Bet your dearly beloved ex-wife would never had been brave enough to say that out loud, would she? Trust me, Tommy, an honest woman will keep you honest, too, and that's always a good thing. Plus, it's better to just let these things out, not hold ‘em in. That's just asking for some medical condition to sprout up. Still... things got a little hot in there, and I'm nothing if not an understanding partner, so let's get you good and squeaky-clean."
Tommy found himself impatiently clamped back between his mother's grabby fingertips. With her opposite hand, she tugged on a length of her shirt, which coincidentally allowed even more of her breast heft to spill out the top, and began drying her son off with extreme prejudice. She toweled his every nook and cranny, though since most of the fart-infused perspiration from Joanne's crack had already dried in a waxen glaze around Tommy's body, she didn't so much clean him off as just more firmly smooth the sickening textures into his skin like a wine spill into carpet. Satisfied with her work, the boy's gargantuan keeper airlifted him up to her simpering face.
"Well, sweetie, just what are we going to do with you?" Joanne boomed.
"We g-gotta find a way to m-make me big again!" Tommy shrieked in such a high pitch his mother could scarcely understand. Even when he swallowed enough of the scream for coherence, he still sounded on the verge of a breakdown. "I c-can't do this! I can't l-live like this, Mom! It's c-crazy! I d-don't know how we can fix me, b-but there have to be ways, there just HAVE to be! E-Experimental, or unregistered... shit... oh, God, oh, God..."
Joanne threw her head back and cackled, her amusement echoing through the whole house and causing her tits to heave. Shaking her head, she looked on her boy with genuine pity, like he was a lost lamb wandering out of its pasture.
"What do ya want me to say, sweetie? You had your chance to live that way before, and I'm sorry to say, but you blew it. Just come to terms with reality, Tommy: you got yourself into this mess, and now it's my job to keep you from getting yourself in any deeper. In deeper trouble, I mean to say, not deeper... well, we'll get to that soon enough. My point is, you've got it good here. Scrawny and un-masculine as you might've been back at your old size, those things don't matter when you're this small. The only person in the whole big scary world you have to impress now loves you just the way you are, and also thinks you're cute as a button. In a lot of ways, really, this is a major improvement. Why look a gift horse in the mouth, anyway? I'm the one who's going to protect you, and feed you, and nurture you, like I always have, only better than before, because we're closer now, thanks to those wonderful folks at the clinic. And in return? All I ask for is that you help... ease my stress from time to time. Now, can you look your mama in the eye and tell me honestly that's really such a bad deal?"
Throughout this speech, the same hand had Joanne used to primp up her shirt for sweat-toweling then ventured into the broad cup of her bra, inviting out more of her breast to play. The more stretch-marked surface area she had to grapple, the more aggressive she became in kneading the obese blob of her chest. By the time Joanne reached the end of her eerily logical appeal to her gutted little son, she was full-on tweaking a hearty brown nipple thick enough to be her pinky tip, roughly circling it in her grasp until her shallowed breathing reflected her heightened arousal.
Though Joanne had withheld just enough shame that she hadn't yet spat the revolting truth in Tommy's face, the fact that she was stimulating her naked teat while grasping him in the other hand and licking her lips with a starved look in her eye told the boy all he needed to know. He vibrated with horror in her sweaty fist, trying and failing to fathom the nauseating extent of what his own mother was suggesting be his end of their new unbalanced parent-child bargain. Not even Joanne's stubby fingers could clench tightly enough to fully halt the little thing's quivering, though she seemed only further encouraged by the sensation of his movement in her closed palm: a preview of what he might feel like pressed flesh-to-flesh against more "sensitive" areas.
"M-Mom, you... you c-can't be serious..." Tommy uttered, quietly stammering so he didn't accidentally vomit mid-sentence as he was haunted by visions of his possible barrier-pushing relationship with his mom and regions on her tubby body he hoped to never see with his own eyes, let alone touch. Though his stomach turned inside out at having to play along with her logic, the boy could tell it was the only way he'd reach Joanne in her sexual madness: "I... I'd b-be way too s-small! It'd n-never work, y-you'd... you'd LOSE ME in..."
"Oh, darlin', did I really raise you to have such little imagination?" Joanne chuckled, shaking her head as though her "grown" son was still a kid tying his shoes incorrectly. "Yes, you are VERY small, but there are plenty of ways around that. Ways I admit I've been... thinking very carefully about all the way home, and heck, maybe even before that. It just took those clever folks at the clinic, especially Roberta, to open my eyes to what was in front of me all along. Point being, you'll be able to pull your weight around here, no matter how little space you'd take up in the places you're needed most. All it'll take is a little help. You know, like a friend. Let me show you..."
Reluctantly releasing the hold on her blubbery tit, which flopped unceremoniously back onto the table and quaked the surface like she'd dropped a marble plaque, Joanne reached for her nearby handbag, and placed her son back down. She hummed while rooting through the contents. Thumbing past makeup cases, her fist giddily emerged from the base of the purse with something somehow even more disturbing to Tommy than the view of his mom's exposed moon-pale fat-sagging breast: a flesh-toned, creepily realistic dildo, nearly indistinguishable from the real thing except for a suction cup at the base, and the fact that the monstrous thing was triple Tommy's height.
Raising it like a scepter overhead, Joanne slammed the thick shaft of the toy cup-first toward the table, mere inches away from her shrunken offspring. Though it would've missed him anyway, the victim dove to the side, as his mother affixed the obelisk of a giant faux-penis to the table, leaving it to wobble and frighten her three-incher to his core.
Tommy only had a moment to stare up at the rubbery tower in disgust, realizing that there were some life-like details too organic not to be real, namely an uneven sheen of pussy juices glazed and hardened onto the surface, not to mention numerous dark curly cunt hairs cemented in place. Some of these sexual artifacts from Joanne's sloppy body appeared uncomfortably recent, perhaps even as fresh as this morning. Luckily or unluckily, Tommy wasn't given long to observe the gruesome after-effects of his lonely mother's private activities, before her fingers were scooped at his back again, railroading him straight into the shaft. Squirming in protest of course did nothing to keep the lad from face-planting into the erect sticky upright pillar of his mom's gargantuan dildo.
"Hmm, yes, I think you'll get along fabulously with Big Ben here," Joanne drawled. "All we'll have to do is get you better acquainted, nice and securely. And as fortune would have it, Roberta was kind enough to lend us a little glue from her own "bonding" activities with her son. See, dear, everyone finds a way to make things work, no matter their differences, so long as love is there."
While keeping her boy hugged to the gummy tower, rich with the scent of old arousal, Joanne reached back in her purse and extracted a small bottle, uncorking the cap and holding it threateningly over Tommy's writhing head.
"She really swore by this stuff, I'll tell ya that. Says it's super heavy-duty, but extremely safe for skin, lasts for hours, and simply dissolves a few hours later. But I highly doubt we'll need you and Big Ben stuck together for that much time. Well, on second thought, we'll see how things go. I may have more of an appetite than even I can predict. I didn't quite have time to work out all the kinks this morning, and either way, I'd wager that sharing this experience with someone else... my baby boy... is going to transform my routine with Big Ben. Sees, he's a useful thing, a good listener, and can reach my deepest corners, but he's not... well, he's not you, Tommy darlin'. Sorry, by the way, sweetie. I forgot to give him a good rinse this morning, though like with anything that gets regular use, as he does, eventually it's just going to stay dirty all the time anyhow."
With his face smushed into the unforgiving rod-curve of Big Ben, Tommy was already well-aware his mother had made no efforts to cleanse her sex toy after evidently ramming it deeply and repeatedly into her pussy this morning. Judging by the fact that cum and pubes were glued on all the way down to the hilt, Joanne's no-doubt spacious tunnel had succeeded in fully consuming the imposing dildo like a popsicle. The smell of her sex clung to it as richly as the dried fluids themselves, and while the flavor wasn't sour or even repulsive like Tommy had worried, the aroma was still sharp and heady as anything he'd experienced before, like some new drug that lulled him into a docile enough state to stop pointlessly worming against Joanne's fingers.
"So, I hope Mommy's smell on there isn't too much for ya, Tommy. After all, it's just a part of me... maybe a different part than you've smelled before, I'll give ya that, but still something natural and good. It's just another way for Mommy to say she loves you, though. You can understand that, right?"