Chapter 14

About a week later, there was no doubt left in Brent’s mind — he was getting shorter and skinnier. Thanks to his intensive fasting, he had been getting punier all the while, but his height loss had temporarily ceased a few weeks back, since Blaire had told him cheerily that she had wanted him to remain around 4 feet tall. Being just over 8 feet herself, Blaire had told him that she particularly enjoyed the dynamics of being exactly twice his height, and that she wanted them both to stop taking their growth and shrinkage serums respectively, just so she could enjoy him at the size he was.

“It’s like the reverse of mothers who don’t want their babies to grow up too fast!” Blaire had laughed to him. “I don’t want my little house boy to shrink too quickly!”

At this point, though, back in the present, Brent could tell that he had been getting shorter. Everything had become that much harder to reach, and his chores, already taxing enough, had become nearly impossible. He couldn’t carry more than a few items of laundry at once without getting completely overwhelmed, and as far as the dishes went…well, forget it. Three broken plates into his last attempt at washing the dishes (from an elevated step-stool, of course), Blaire had waved him off. Brent had been afraid of her ire, but she hadn’t seemed too perturbed about it. Indeed, it was like she had just been waiting for it to happen. She had whipped out her phone, and was already calling someone before Brent dutifully bent over the broken shards, eager to rectify his mistake.

“Just leave it, Brent…leave it,” said Blaire nonchalantly, again waving him off from her perch across the room, on the new, gigantic sofa that Luke had bought the other day. The fat from her monstrous thighs and colossal hips extended far out on either side of her, bigger and wider than three normal-sized people. And even still, she rose up high above the sofa backing, a veritable amazon.

She spoke into her phone. “Hello? Chad? Yeah, I need you to get over here. Yes now. Well bring her too — I don’t care. Hah! No big boy, it’s not that kind of visit. Pick up some dish soap and scrub brushes on your way…oh yeah…yeah. You’re gonna be my dishwasher from now on. Do I sound like I’m joking? Yes…yes, consider it your punishment for not being able to keep up these past few days. If you do a good enough job, I might forget how pathetic you looked when you were whining at me that you couldn’t keep going. Yes…yes…and no store brand shit, you understand? I want the brand-name, heavy grease cutter, alright? Ok, goodbye.”

She turned to Brent and gave a hefty chuckle, which sent her mighty flesh jiggling.

“Priceless. Cutting a football stud down to size. It’s nothing personal, Brent. You know that, right? It’s just that…well, it’s pretty clear that you can’t really do that job anymore. Honestly I should’ve seen it coming sooner…hell, I DID see it coming, if I’m being honest, haha. I just wanted to see how far you could make it.”

“I’m…sorry that I’m…too weak,” said Brent, his limbs still shaking a little with the effort of having tried to lift the plates.

“Yes, well…for what it’s worth, it was fun to watch you struggling a little,” giggled Blaire. Then, to emphasize the absurd disparity of their respective strengths, she reached a casual hand over to the coffee table beside the new sofa and pinched a stack of ten (used and empty) plates between her fingers. Seemingly without effort, she lifted them up, rotating and turning them left and right, upside-down and rightside-up, just to show how easy it was for her. Brent had broken three plates, individually, because he could not even manage to hold one for long without dropping it. Blaire smirked at him sexily, putting the plates back down as easily as she had picked them back up, as she stuck her tongue into the inside of her cheek, tenting it out sideways suggestively.

Brent approached her, feeling her enormity increase the closer he got. Now seemed as good a time as ever to ask.

“Umm…G-Goddess?” he ventured.

“Yes, my little munchkin?” she asked, arching her eyebrows amusedly. She loved sitting above him like this as he spoke down to her from below. With her lower legs planted on the floor, her big knees were even with his shoulders. Each one of her lower legs had to weigh five or six times as much as his entire body, and probably much more than that, even.

“I…I, uh, couldn’t help but notice,” began Brent, “That, uh…that I think I’ve gotten smaller recently.”

“Mmmmm, I was beginning to wonder when you’d notice,” purred Blaire warmly, nodding her head down at him.

“S-so…so it’s true then?” he asked, feeling an unexpected but powerful wave of lust rush through him. “I’m getting smaller.”

“You are,” said Blaire, again with added warmth. It was clear that she was getting turned-on too.

“But…but I haven’t taken my, uh…my shrink serum in weeks,” said Brent. “How’s this happening?”

“Hehe, you sure you want me to explain?” chuckled Blaire, arching her eyebrow. “It’s a little complicated.”

“I m-mean…uh…sure,” said Brent, reddening a little. He wanted to know, even though he knew that what was coming was likely going to be way over his head. Besides, he liked to be reminded, every now and then at least, how much of a genius she was.

“Well, it’s all pretty straightforward, really, when you know how all this stuff works,” said Blaire mildly. As she spoke, she reached down, fastened a fleshy hand around Brent’s small waist, and swept him off his feet. His head bent back from the sudden change of direction, but it quickly righted itself as Blaire placed him on her thigh. It was so thick that, with his legs spread out, Brent couldn’t even straddle it properly. Blaire laughed gently as she steadied his torso with her big fingers.

“So, basically, it’s all to do with epigenetics. You know what that means, right? Haha, I mean, it used to be your field, didn’t it?”

“I…y-yes,” said Brent, feeling weird for a second. His past life, his past professional endeavors, had already faded considerably in his mind. Blaire could tell that he didn’t remember the term, so she pressed on, giving his chest a playful little squeeze.

“It describes phenotype changes that don’t involve alterations in the DNA sequence,” she said gently, lightly bouncing him on her fat thigh. “In the case of your serum, these changes are a part of the normal development — or in your case, diminishment — of your cells. I made sure that the last batch of serum you took had undergone a special histone modification, which basically just means that I programmed the basic proteins in the serum to pass self-replicating genetic material to your nucleosomes. There was a deliberate delay in the process, of course, since I just LOVED having you be exactly half my size, but now, the process has begun again.”

“And…and you?” asked Brent, overcome by Blaire’s brain, “You’re getting bigger too, aren’t you?”

“Mmmm, well-spotted again, shrimp,” chuckled Blaire, petting his naked back with her huge hand. “Same process, different protein alterations, opposite outcome. I could go into more detail if you’d like.”

“N-no…no that’s enough for me, I think,” said Brent with a sheepish grin. He knew that he was already way out of his league, even though he had been a geneticist grad student before, and besides, he was more than distracted by getting gently bounced around on Blaire’s knee. He looked down at the hulking slab of flesh that he was perched upon, which was gently shaking and trembling all around him as Blaire continued to bounce him. It was almost unbelievable for him to fathom the strength that would be required to move such a huge pillar as her lower leg up and down, up and down, like she was doing…but of course, Blaire was doing it without any effort at all — it was her leg, after all.

Right then, Chad and Kenzie burst in through the front door, overloaded with grocery bags. It was clear that they had both been in a rush, since both of them were red-faced, sweaty, and out of breath. Brent jumped a little as they came in through the door, and he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that his private moment with his Goddess had been interrupted by the dishwashing usurper. Even though Brent knew that Blaire had meant to demean Chad by putting him in charge of the dishes, he wasn’t able to avoid feeling a little hurt that, once again, his feebleness had led to Blaire re-allocating one of the things he took pride in being able to do. It was all based on a latent fear that had been growing in Brent for some time — the fear that, eventually, he would become totally useless to Blaire, unable to serve her in any meaningful way, and that she would respond by casting him out.

“Well!” said Blaire, scratching Brent’s back lightly with her fingernails, causing him to shiver in pleasure, “Took you long enough.”

“I’m…sorry,” grunted Chad, bending down and putting all the grocery bags on the dining room table. Kenzie did the same, having to get up on her tiptoes to do so, since the table was so high, and she was so short.

“I…we…wanted to make sure we brought you enough food too,” said Chad, wringing his hands as he turned and walked toward Blaire. Even the hulking 6’8 football player didn’t look all that big to Brent anymore.

“Well that was wise,” said Blaire mildly, a touch of affected laziness in her voice. Brent suddenly felt a great vacuum of air behind his head that almost seemed to suck him backward. He braced himself, puzzled, until he realized that Blaire had inhaled a great breath and was yawning. She took her time finishing it, and when she was finally done, both Chad and Kenzie were standing there anxiously. Clearly, they were both eager to serve, even though Brent didn’t fail to notice Chad’s massive erection sending a large, raised mound down the left leg of his jeans. Kenzie looked equally aroused, and even expectant, as her mouth remained half-open, almost like she was ready to say “Yes!” the instant Blaire proposed anything at all.

“Well, my big horse-cocked manly-man!” laughed Blaire, with an unmistakable infusion of mockery in her voice, “My little pixie girl! Get to it, you two! You’ll have to clean up a bit of a mess on the floor at first, but I trust that’s not going to be an issue. Where’s the broom, Brent?”

“Uhh…uh, it-it’s…it’s in the, uh…the pantry,” he stammered, not having expected to be included in the conversation. “Behind the…the door.”

As he spoke, he wasn’t too surprised to see Chad give him a look that was a combination of disbelief and disgust. Brent instantly felt like he knew what the look meant — Chad was resenting the fact that someone as “low on the totem pole,” as small and measly and puny and pathetic as Brent, was actually telling HIM where the broom was, where the “servant’s tools” were kept. Even though all of the conversation proceeded through Blaire’s behest, Chad still wasn’t able to avoid begrudging Brent the fact that, because of Brent’s frailty, HE, Chad, had to humble himself and take his place.

Blaire snapped her fingers, waving at Chad with exaggeration. Once again, her whole body shook, and Brent again had to make an effort to steady himself and not fall off.

“Hello!?” Blaire said loudly. “Are you just gonna stand there gawking like an idiot, or are you gonna get to work? Miss Pixie, why don’t you take charge of sweeping, and your hung boyfriend there can get to work on the dishes, huh?”

“Y-Yes ma’m,” squeaked Kenzie, and she dutifully shuffled off towards the pantry. Chad, for his part, stood in place — then he made a move toward the kitchen, but then he stopped again, looking at the disorganized pile of grocery bags that were filled with rich food. He seemed troubled, because he had, by this point, become accustomed to carefully organizing and sorting all the food that he brought over, according to Blaire’s wishes. But now, he was faced with the prospect of having to just leave them there on the table. Of course, he should have just obeyed Blaire, but his own ego suddenly got the better of him, and he turned back around and pointed at Brent.

“Hey…you!” he said, a bit roughly. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and organize the food we brought, huh?”

Brent, still perched on Blaire’s knee, looked at Chad wide-eyed. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Even though Luke, Sharon, Chad, and the rest had all given him disgusted looks, he had never actually been ordered about by anyone except Blaire. It felt like a violation, a breaking of some kind of holy, unspoken code. Chad was reacting to being “demoted” by flexing his own authority over someone lower than himself in the power structure. At least, that’s how Chad thought about it. Brent knew that this was the football player’s motivation, and he was stung by the brutal power implications of such a rough order, especially in contrast to the incredibly warm intimacy that he and Blaire had been enjoying just a few moments before.

And yet, in the tense silence of the ensuing seconds, Brent began to feel like he had been overestimating his own position in the household, his own position in Blaire’s eyes. Yes, she had been especially sweet to him recently, paying him all kinds of attention, but who was he kidding, really? He looked down at the massive thigh he was sitting on, totally dwarfing his own body dozens upon dozens of times. He looked down at his arms and legs…tiny sticks with almost no muscle at all to speak of, with protruding bones and joints. He was nothing, really…truly, he was nothing. And he had been a fool to hope…to even think…that he occupied some kind of special position with his Goddess. Chad had an 11-inch cock. He was huge and powerful enough to at least give Blaire some kind of feeling in bed. For himself, though…he had nothing to hope for. His little shoulders began to slump, and he began to plan how he was going to climb down off Blaire’s thigh. If he had been looking up, though, he would have seen Chad’s face going white with fear.

“What did you just say?” came Blaire’s voice from behind Brent. He stopped his motions dead, and his heart jumped and began to swell.

“I…I, uhhhhh — ” stuttered Chad, his jaw going slack.

“Did I actually just hear you…tell Brent what to do?” asked Blaire. Her voice was calm and measured. And terrifying.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I d-didn’t —” began Chad, but his words were cut short when, with a loud, relieved groan from the new sofa, Blaire suddenly stood up. Brent’s world nearly turned upside down, and he would have flailed about helplessly if Blaire had not gently grasped him around his midsection as she rose. She put him under her big, fat arm, like he was an oversized doll, as she strode over to Chad, who was nailed to the floor in fear. Brent was a bit dizzy from all the sudden movement, but he found, if he managed to hold his head up and arch his neck, that he could see what was happening in front of Blaire. All the while, he subconsciously goggled at Blaire’s ability to move about so gracefully and smoothly, despite her ridiculous bulk. Blaire had stopped directly in front of Chad, and she loomed over him, with her massive boobs directly in his face. Even though Brent was stuck in Blaire’s armpit, when he looked forward, his head was actually slightly above Chad’s.

“You clearly don’t understand what’s going on here,” said Blaire, in the same terrifyingly calm voice. Chad blinked up at her, his lip quivering slightly. For a second, Brent felt bad for him. But then, he remembered how Chad had just looked at him, and most of the empathy vanished away. He suddenly felt…cozy.

“It-it’s just…j-just the way…uh, th-the way y-you always talked t-to…to him,” stammered Chad, now nearly a nervous wreck. “I…I th-thought…thought m-maybe you’d…y-you’d like me t-to make sure th-that…the f-food w-was all — ”

“Stop,” said Blaire, holding up her hand in Chad’s face, the hand on the same side as Brent was held. Brent felt the movement of her arm, and was once again reminded of how much strength and muscle was underneath all that fatty flesh. He felt the pressure tighten a bit in her armpit.

“Your mistake,” said Blaire, her voice now taking on a more biting edge, “Was to think…for ANY amount of time…that you had ANY authority over Brent here.”

“I’m s-so sorry!” cried Chad, holding up his hands in an unequivocal motion of surrender. “I’ll…I’ll m-make it up to y-you!! I promise!!”

“Mmmmm, yes…I think you will,” said Blaire menacingly. She suddenly reached out with her other arm and grasped Chad by the throat. Chad’s mouth froze open, and his eyes bugged out; it was clear that he was genuinely afraid that Blaire was going to hurt him. Brent, watching all of this from a horizontal position in Blaire’s armpit, felt scared himself. What was Blaire going to do to him!? Her hand looked so huge, splayed out across the entirety of Chad’s collarbone, even as her big, stout fingers went nearly all the way around the football player’s neck. Even Kenzie, dutiful to a fault, looked up in alarm from her sweeping in the kitchen. No one but Blaire knew what was going to happen, and she milked the moment for a few seconds, lightly moving her fingers left and right on his neck, as if she was trying to decide where it was best to begin squeezing.

And then, not actually too fast, but with a suddenness that made her motions seem pointedly swift, Blaire stepped toward the wall, still holding Chad by the neck. She wasn’t dragging him or squeezing too hard, but she was moving with such inexorably massive force that the footballer had no choice but to stagger backwards, moving his legs desperately in tandem with Blaire’s, in a frantic attempt to keep from being dragged. He didn’t have far to go, though, and a second later he felt his back thump into the wall; he was trapped now, with nowhere to go except through the huge, hulking mass of fat flesh in front of him. Blaire’s gigantic breasts were staring him straight in the face, and all around him, the fat burgeons of her enormous belly seemed poised to rise up and swallow him whole.

Blaire just stood there a moment, letting Chad drink in the sheer, staggering reality of their size difference. Safe in her armpit, Brent actually began to think that she was making a point to him...he felt almost like she was…”showing off” to him, in a kind of playful way, how much bigger she was than this absolute giant of a man. And if she was that big compared to someone like Chad, well...the rest was blissfully left up to Brent’s imagination. He had already weathered, savored, and digested the reality of how much bigger Blaire was compared to him, but he had never gotten tired of having the truth brought home to him in new and exciting ways.

But Brent’s attention was suddenly diverted from merely enjoying the hugeness of Blaire compared to Chad, because he heard Chad choking. Blaire was lifting him up, into the air, and Chad was desperately clawing at her hand, fruitlessly trying to free himself as his legs kicked about desperately in midair. Kenzie had apparently dropped her broom and had dashed over, frantically trying to prevent Blaire from choking her boyfriend. The little woman may as well have been trying to move a cast-iron statue of Goliath.

“Hehe, look at you, fighting to breathe,” chuckled Blaire. Once Chad’s feet were a good six inches off the ground, Blaire stepped forward, pinning his body to the wall with her fat. She took her hand off his neck, not needing it to hold him up anymore; her belly was doing all the work effortlessly.

“What’s the matter Chad?” giggled Blaire, turning her belly from side to side as she squashed him up against the wall. “Having a little trouble? Can’t seem to escape? Haha, come on! I’m not even holding you anymore! See? No hands!”

Mocking him, she displayed both her free hands in front of Chad’s face, wiggling her fingers tauntingly. Chad’s face was bright red now, both from lack of oxygen and from the desperate effort he was putting into trying to extract himself from Blaire’s fatty prison. But his efforts were just as futile as his tiny girlfriend’s. For the next minute, he could do nothing except labor to breathe as Blaire roughly quashed and compressed him into the wall.

This was all a little too much power for Brent to handle; his cock had been hard before Blaire’s display of power, but seeing how mightily and overwhelmingly she could rough up Chad was enough to push him completely over the edge. He groaned out in ecstasy as he came in several long spurts into the fatty rolls underneath Blaire’s armpit. Within a couple seconds, it was oozing down her side...Brent’s milky white testament to the incredible show of power that was in progress. Blaire, preoccupied with her domination, didn’t even notice the white tiny trail of tribute trickling down her flesh.

After a long minute of pronounced roughing-up, Blaire let Chad go, stepping back from the wall and allowing him to collapse down on the floor, out of breath. Kenzie hurriedly went back into the kitchen and resumed her sweeping diligently.

“You’re gonna be taking over Jeff’s position as house boy, at least temporarily,” announced Blaire brightly. Brent couldn’t see her face, no matter how he turned his head, but he could tell that she was smiling.

“…oh!” said Chad, looking up from his position on all fours. His bright red face had fallen, even as he was still happy that the massive amazon hadn’t decided to choke him out or crush him to death against the wall.

“Yes…for the next whole week at least!” continued Blaire, bringing out her phone again and speed-dialing a number. “You’ll be under everyone — your girlfriend included. And you’ll have to do what THEY say. All of their desires, of course, being in my best interests.”

Still breathing hard, Chad’s face was blank, as Blaire spoke into her phone.

“Are you with Sharon right now? Haha! Typical. Well, finish doing that, and then come straight over here. Both of you. No, I don’t need chocolates today thank you. And no need for that. I’m putting you two in charge of the house for the rest of the week. Yes…yes, Brent and I are going on a vacation. Yes, just the two of us. Don’t tarry.”

Blaire hung up, and Brent’s heart was beating so hard that he thought it might burst.

“Stop sweeping, Ms. Pixie,” said Blaire to Kenzie. “Let your big bumbling fool of a boyfriend take over. Meathead’s got a lot to learn it seems. Why don’t you kick back on the sofa here with me and Brent for a minute, huh?”

A few moments later, Kenzie was worshipfully rubbing Blaire’s big, protruding belly, and Brent was sitting in between her breasts, with her gorgeous face directly in front of him.

“A…a vacation!?!” he choked, almost overcome with emotion.

“Yes!” exclaimed Blaire with dazzling eyes. “I think it’s time that you and I get away for a little bit. You know…together. Just me and you. What do you think about that?”

“I…I j-just…I c-can’t believe it!” cried Brent, tears forming in his eyes.

“Awww, baby,” cooed Blaire, extending forth a finger and wiping his eyes lovingly. “Don’t get me wrong — I love what this dynamic between us has become. I love how visceral and REAL it all is. I love how intense of a journey it’s been thus far…it hasn’t been easy for you a lot of the time, I know. But really, we’ve DONE it, Brent…we’ve really DONE it together, and no matter the emotional roadblocks you had along the way, you’ve found a way to get over them. And, you know, just now, when Meathead McCock thought he could order you around, you were actually about to do what he said, weren’t you?”

“I…yeah. Yeah I was,” said Brent in a small voice. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he felt almost ashamed to admit it.

“Yeah,” said Blaire gently down to him, brushing his cheek with her finger. “Yeah, see, that’s why we need this vacation. You only answer to me, you understand? Because you’re mine, Brent. You’re my skinny little munchkin man, and no one else’s. But you were so far into the throes of your own submission that you were about to just follow orders, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Brent quietly, bowing his head and reddening even more.

“Hey,” said Blaire kindly, raising his chin up to her with a single finger (which spanned the width of his chin), “Look at me, little guy. It’s ok. I’m not upset with you. Submission can burn out of control if it’s not unchecked. That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? A controlled burn?”

“I…yes, yes I guess so,” said Brent, not having thought of it like that before. He was suddenly curious how, in the past, when he had totally lost control, Blaire hadn’t felt like the dynamic was “burning out of control.” It was only when he had drooped his shoulders and started to follow Chad’s orders that she had stepped in.

“Yeah…a controlled burn,” said Blaire, her voice suddenly taking on a voluptuousness that instantly went down to Brent’s cock. It was like her voice had the power to suddenly command him to stand at attention. All she needed to do was drop it an octave and turn her head at him slightly sideways…and he knew. Kenzie gasped softly over to his left — she felt the shift too, and kneaded into Blaire’s fat a little harder.

“Which, you know…implies that you have a sense of control over everything,” Blaire continued, still purring in that low octave. She brought her hand away from Brent’s forehead, lowered it behind him, and began drawing soft little circles on his butt cheeks with her huge index finger. Brent’s cock was now pointed straight at her mouth.

“Most especially whether you have the control to cum…or not to cum,” breathed Blaire. “When can you cum, little one?”

“When…you say I can,” gasped Brent, as Blaire continued teasing his butt with her finger.

“Correct,” said Blaire. She suddenly whisked her finger down to her side, where Brent had cum, and scooped up a bit of his cum with her finger, showing it to Brent playfully before popping it in her mouth. Brent gaped...how had she known about that?

“And when can you have sex with me?”

“When…whenever you want me to,” gulped Brent.

“Miss Pixie,” said Blaire suddenly, “I love what you’re doing, but now I want you to go make sure your bull isn’t breaking the china. I need a moment with my boy here.”

Kenzie scurried off, and Brent suddenly found himself tumbling to the side as Blaire lifted up the big, massive dome of her fat stomach, spreading her legs in the process. The smell of her steaming snatch filled the air, and Brent could feel his mouth starting to water. His cock was drooling with pre-cum. Blaire backed up a little on the sofa, making just enough room in front of her vagina for Brent to stand. She placed him there carefully, and he looked down, his eyes bugging out of their sockets. There it was — her awaiting vagina, which came up to his knees, even though he was standing in front of it. He looked up at the huge, yawning arch of fat in front of him, above him, all around him.

“Fuck me,” whispered Blaire passionately. “Fuck me, little guy. Get on your knees and thrust yourself into me for all you’re worth.

Brent didn’t need to be told twice. In the blink of an eye, he was pushing his entire midsection into the hot, moist folds of his Goddess’s snatch. He knew that she couldn’t feel his cock — but he was going to use his whole body to make her feel as much as he possibly could. He slammed himself into her over and over — he squeezed and pinched and shook her pink labial folds with his hands and fingers — he headbutted her clit over and over, and eventually took to biting it. And all the while Blaire’s juices flowed and pooled steadily around him, soaking him through and coating him with layer upon layer of hot, pungent sex juice. He literally felt the steam come up, and he breathed its vapors time and time again, inhaling her musk into his lungs. And above him, all around him, he heard her moans, soft at first, and then gradually gaining in intensity, until, when he finally bit down hard on her clit, she cried out, and the walls and skies of fat around him shook and trembled in response.

He lost track of how many times he came inside her — it didn’t matter. He had finally done it…he didn’t know how, but he had finally managed to make her cum too. Thirty minutes later…or was it an hour…or two hours…he had no idea…Blaire had planted him back in between her giant breasts. He was sitting directly on top of her big heart, which was still thumping away. Her eyes were alive with the strange and irresistible combination of excitement and satiation that comes after good sex.

“So,” said Blaire buoyantly, brushing Brent’s hair out of his eyes, “Miami?”