A SIZEABLE DIFFERENCE   Tim was moving up and down

A SIZEABLE DIFFERENCE   Tim was moving up and down

A SIZEABLE DIFFERENCE

Tim was moving up and down, his belly sweeping over

her mammoth mammaries, her fat motherly nipples erect and

rubbing against his chest. Tim began to grow smaller.

A pecular hum was coming from Ellen's pelvis, and Tim felt it

strongly as he plunged in. The vibration seamed to enter through

his groin and spread throughout his entire body. From bouncing up

and down, he began to tremble and felt as if he were collapsing in

on himself. When he started to rise, not an easy task on Ellen's

ample body, she just moaned and held her grip. Soon his head was

down to breast-level, his chest sliding into her lake of a belly.

Tim was shrinking, his arms buried under her bulky

buttocks, His nose fitting for a moment into her jelly-cup of a

navel. He was down to the dimensions of a five-year-old, with

Ellen's queenly thighs dwarfing his small shanks. Then he was

infant size, most of him snug aginst her patch of blue-black pubic

hair, floundering helplessly against her fat mound.

"What--mmphrr-is going on?''

Trying to lever himself up from his wife's plump pit, Tim

only sunk in deeper. It was dark and furry and soft, the yielding

flesh almost smothering him. Ellen bent over, picked him up in her

arms, and looked at him, almost dropping him in surprise.

"What have they done to you?" she cried. "You've turned

into a little baby!". Her breasts quivered with indignation, her

massive tit-flesh rippling as in a breeze from nowhere.

"You did this!" he roared. brandishing his now tiny fist.

Now it just looked ridiculous, like a baby imitating Napleon. "I'm

going to lay into, you someting fierce when I find-when I see-"

"When you see what?" She peered down at him.

He stopped, unsure of what he would or could do, pressed

against Ellen's gargantuan belly. "Put me down."

But there was an unpleasant gleam in Ellen's eyes, from

the memory of certain incidents, Tim liked to throw his weight,

around on Saturdays, and sometimes Ellen got hurt. Now Tim was

cuddly size, though sill perfectly formed, down to his little tool.

She was going to play with him. "Oooh, that's a nice baby!" She

nuzzled him against one breast; heavy and pendulous against his

little body. She centered his face on one luscious fat nipple, red in

the center like a cherry candy. He bit it.

''Baaad boy, naughty!" And she did with him what she

had done with three misbehaving infants as they grew up. She

wedged him firmly between her huge thighs and spanked him with

the flat of her hand, three times. Then she held him up for

inspection. His belly made him look babyish and innocent. He

struggled in her grasp, ridiculously. He was strong for a baby --

but he was no match for a body ten times his size.

Ellen shook him. "Stop that!"

'"So help me, Ellen. I swear I'm going to--damn it. I'll

think of something ! "

Annoyed again, Elllen eased himunder her shaved armpit,

in the area where her soft underarm met the oceanic swell of her

left breast. She brought down her arm and clamped him into this

pocket of fresh for about fifteen seconds. He came out pale and

gasping.

"Don't-don't do that again. I can't breathe!"

"Would you like me to sit an you?"

"Hey--"

"l could smother you completely against my breasts." She

nudged him teasingly, threateningly, her smooth white breast twice

as big as his head. Breasts like pale mountains. bush like a dark

ravine, her belly and buttocks sticking out front and rear like hills

for him to climb--unless they fell on top of him. His heavy wife

could squash him wittout even thinking, he realized.

''No. Please."

"All right. I won't." She spoke to him kindly, the way she

did when talking to the kids. She laid one plump finger across his

chest. "But be good."

Tim was good.

When Ellen left for work on Monday, Tim was still

pint-size, kept in the bedroom for fear the kids would see him.

Tim was sleeping on top of a pillow in the bedroom. He had

gotten over his rage, but was still annoyed.

At three in the aftenoon. Cindy came home. Bill and Hank

were at basketball practice. She was just pouring herself some milk

to go with her cake when she heard sounds from her parents'

bedroom and decided to investigate. She was careful: she opened

the door a crack-and saw nothing. A little wider--and there,

looking out the window from the sill he had crawled to, was a

diapered version of her father. Eilen had found some old cloth

diapers in the attic; they were the only clothes that would fit him.

"Daddy! is that you?"

Tim looked around, almost falling off the window sill.

Cindy was only thirteen but big for her size. Also, she ate alot and

her rear end stuck out taut against her jeans. What Tim saw was

his own daughter advancing on him, a plump girl with cake

crumbs around her lips.

"Stay back--l'm not your father"

Cindy stared at him critically, disbelevingly. "You sure

look like him." She extendsd a chubby hand.

"All right. I am your father, but keep away. I'm sick."

Cindy reached out and grabbed his tiny little hands,

advancing to where she formed a wall between him, and the rest of

the room. Her belly poked above her dress, the bulgy white flesh

not quite meeting the bottom of her halter top. The flesh quivered

mightily: she was remem-bering all the times her father spanked

her, or sent her to her room. Now he would come to her room.

"Hey!" Tim was suddenly picked up and carried across the

hall to Cindy's room, where he was dropped onto a lacy pillow.

He tried to scramble away, but Cindy pinned him down with one

heavy thigh.

"We're going to play." Letting him up for a moment, she

rummaged in her closet for her old doll's clothes and found what

she wanted. Tim was almost out the door--"No you don't!" She

grabbed him by the legs and held him gently while she set out the

clothes, a little brassiere, tiny nylon panties and half-slip.

"You're going to put on my doll's undies and we'll have a

little party," she said as she held the little pink panties up to my

chest.

Cindy, only thirteen, got up and slipped off her dress,

revealing tent-sizd pink, nylon panties that barely covered her

plump cheeks. They expanded to twice the size as she bent over.

Then she sat down-whuff--on his whole body, girlflesh pressing

down all around him, utterly pinning and practically suffocating

him.

Every time he inhaled, her soft nylon plumpness would fill

his mouth, his nose, his eyes. She let him up after half a minute.

He lay pasty-faced on the floor, recovering.

"Wanna play now?" Her tone was silky sweet.

Tim took the dolls bra, panties and half-slip that Cindy

held out to him and began shucking off his diaper.

********

When Ellen came home, she sensed something was wrong.

It was too quite. She rushed to the bedroom and saw Tim was

gone.

"Tim, Tim, my God, where are you?"

She heard giggles from Cindy's room and ran across the

hall, fearing the worst. Without knocking, she flung open the door.

She played a little rough and now Cindy was playing

nurse. She had Tim pressed against her soft swelling breast buds,

as she rocked him gently and tickeled the soles of his feet. She had

diapered him up again and even bandaged a little cut above his

brow. At the moment that Elllen threw open the door, she had just

planted a wet, sloppy kiss on his forehead. She playfully

threatened to eat him.

"Cindy, what are you doing?"

Ellen slapped Cindy, took her husband back, and gave her

daughter a stern lecture on respect for her father. Carresing Tim all

the while, and patting him on the bottom, she carried him back to

the bedroom, where the whole story of the afternoon came out.

Tim stood like a little Caesar on her bed, blowing off steam .

"Ellen. you've raised those kids to be brats! Not enough

discipline!"

"That's never been your problem, has it?" She sat down

next to him angrlly. Somehow, Tim had the knack of turning Ellen

from a dutiful wife to a corrective mother in seconds. She reached

out and held him at arm's length away, from where he could see

the full weave of her vast pair. She was wearing a low-cut pink

sweater today, and her twin enormous globes jiggled noiselessly

against each other. As for Tim, he was staring at tits that for his

size looked like the eighth wonder of the world, with a cleft that

could engulf his whole body. She brought him closer to her deep

cleevage and the delicate twin blue veins that ran down them. A

vague womanly musk came from her flesh, and she pressed him

closer, as if to bury him. Tim was half-excited, harf-terrified.

"You're squeezing me!"

"Am I squeezing poor Tim, who loves to crush me flat

everytime we make love? It's time you got a little of that back."

She pulled down the front of her sweater, revealing the strong

white suspension of her bra. His feet dangled against her resilient

midriff as she slid his arms under her elastic shoulder straps. Now

he was spread-eagle against her frontage. His head was wedged in

her chest. His arms pulled between her plump shaven armpits. It

was like being crucified on a sofa.

Tim spoke into her massive bosom. "Mmph--no. I didn't-

mmph--mean that. Please--"

But Ellen was busy. Carefully, so as not to disturb the

positioning, she removed her sweater. Now he was more or less

hanging from her boobs; when she shook her tits, he bounced with

them. Then she slowly bent forward so that his feet met her lap. As

she bent over, she quickly unzipped her skirt so that he was left

teetering on the wide front of her panties. So far. so good. Then

she slipped off her panties, her blue-black bush popping up like a

flower in a flesh landscape. His feet could find no purshase on her

yielding thighs, and he slid into her squashy dark vee. When he

tried to wiggle around, it was wonderful for her. So he did a little

dance.

"Aaah. aaaaah!" In the throes of ecstasy, with her

husband's feet nudging her plump twat. She clutched his body

hard.

Tim felt his wife's breasts move around him like two soft

steamrollers, wiping out the rest of the world in their creamy

smoothness. His torso wes engulfed in belly-flesh, as if he had

died and gone to fat heaven. Everywhere his hands and mouth

explored was silky soft plumpness. He sucked in deeply, so hard

he almost blacked out.

When he saw light again, Ellen was nursing him against

her fat right nippie, stroking his hair. "Maybe I shouldn't have

done that"-she spread her wide thighs--' 'or at least I shouldn't do it

to often. I might hurt you." The old maternal look was back in her

eyes. That night, she cut up a hamburger into tiny piecas and

spoon-fed him. She lectured the children that their father Was off

bounds, and that night he slept in the warmth of her nightgown,

snuggled beside one mammoth sloping breast.

It was the week after the shrinking, and the kids were out

seeing a movie while EllIen stayed home to take care of Tim. One

thing led to another, and pretty soon he was sliding down her huge

belly, arriving with a gentle bump at the strong undergrowth af her

bush. With almost super-baby strength, he began to twiddle his

wife, plunging his fist in and out. When she saw what he was

doing, she began to help him out, pressing him into her flesh.

From then on, about once a monch, Ellen shrank him down

to size and let him ride her galloping jelly-belly. And Tim

found his own attitude changing. He would climb under her huge

rear as she playfully buried him. He would emerge through the

plump walls of her thigh, making her grown in pleasure. "Was it

good for you, too, sweetheart?" she always asked sexily

afterwards.

Tim leaned lazily against one immense flank, wide as a

landscape. "I guess a wife should baby her husband every now and

then," he would mumble contentedly, and snuggle in closer

against her flesh.

 

A SIZEABLE DIFFERENCE   Tim was moving up and down

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