Giantess Stories: ML 1

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ML 1

 

   I gotta tell ya...I'm

absolutely incredibleized. Sitting here at 24 inches tall, weighing less

  than 25 pounds, and under

the knowledge that I could continue to shrink as much as two

  or three more inches and

lose as much as two or three more pounds. I hate being reduced

  to this, but I gotta admit,

given my situation, it could have been alot worse.

 

  Now that I've got your

interest, I guess I need to backtrack a bit...

 

  My whole life, I've been a

man who has always seemed to be in charge of my destiny. In

  all of my relationships,

whether it be friend or foe, family or friends, I've always taken the

  lead. I remember walking

into a bar with my friends, during the week that I turned twenty

  one years old, and

exclaiming 'Who would I like to leave with tonite.' Times sure have

  changed, as it's not my

choice anymore; But i digress.

 

  Back in those times however,

life was great. I remember, picking up a nubile young

  number, dancing with her,

and running my fingers down her breasts and young buttocks,

  pulling her close. She was

the innocent one, I the masculine, tough guy. But I loved the

  girls: To my credit, I

always had to like the girls I ended up with. I never slept with a girl

  that I didn't like on some

level. It was wild, but in some humane way, I had a desire to be

  wanted or liked, unlike some

of my friends, who basically wanted to get laid in some way,

  shape, or form.

 

  But here I am, on my

stepdaughter's lap, about ready to explode. She's wearing the

  softest, shiniest and

silkiest negligee I've ever felt. At her insistence, I've got my hands on

  her silk covered breasts

(Not only that guys, She's five foot two, ninety five pounds,

  nineteen years old, and damn

cute). Ya gotta realize that she's holding me with my legs

  around her waist, a hand

cupped under my right thigh, and the other hand holding my

  head. I've never been kissed

like this, not even in my 'bigger' days. I try to tell her that I'm

  about ready to explode; She

tells me 'You're my little angel, it's OK and mommy loves

  you. Don't hold back

babydoll, I'll understand. Tide's cheap honey; you're not.' .As she

  said that, she pressed my

thigh just slightly, which caused the silky folds of her negligee          to

softly caress my over excited member. That little move was all it took. Upon

explosion, I apologized for not being able to exercise better control. Her

response to this was simply

  to press me closer to her

silky bosom, and to assure me that she took my lack of ability to

  control myself as an extreme

compliment. Then she took my chin between her thumb and

  forefinger, and tilted my

head so that our eyes met. I could see that she was very sincere.

  She asked 'Are we a happy

little camper?' I said 'yes, of course,' and she said, 'I just

  didn't want my little angel

doubting my sincerety.' 'Now come along with me and help me

  pick out another negligee.'

With that, she set me down, grabbed my hand (Hard to believe

  that I could completely

encircle her little hand with mine a few weeks ago) and led me to

  her closet. Man, do I

digress or what? (As if you care at this point). We'll get back to this;

  I think she likes me.

 

  I got married at the age of

24. It was a traditional situation...I was of the football crowd,

  but so was she. We always

knew our roles. She was Mother and wife, I was Father and

  husband. Over the years, we

had four children, three boys and one girl. I was always the

  one to make decisions, not

necessarily out of choice, but really out of necessity. Believe it

  or not, I changed over the

years. I came to love and respect women who had the ability

  to think and act as

individuals.

 

  My wife didn't change with

me. She thought I was nuts, and couldn't understand why I

  wanted to move on after

fifteen years of marriage. I told her I wanted to be with a woman

  who had learned the concept

of independence and/or free will. It was sad actually. All our

  lives, she had relied on me

to make the appropriate decisions. To this cause, out of

  necessity, I done (sic) just

that (I ain't dumb). I decided divorce was not only appropriate,

  but actually the best move.

 

  Sex with my wife was always

kind of a Wham, Bam, thank you Mam sort of affair. She

  never seemed to like it, and

to tell you the truth, it was sort of a lonely process for me.

  Necessary of course, but

lonely. I longed to be with someone that I truly cared for. I was

  surprised by my longing for

true romance. I would listen to friends who would brag about

  banging a bunch of different

women, and believe me, I've had my share, but I honestly

  had to like the woman I was

with to have a truly good time.

 

  To make up for the

lackluster nature of our sex, I relied on my imagination. I was not the

  type to go out and cheat,

although I did have my share of opportunities and actually

  thought about it on a

regular basis. Initially, I refused to cheat on a moral basis; By the end

  of our relationship, I

refused out of fear that my children would place blame on me for our

  divorce. In any case, I did

not venture out in this area until we were officially divorced.

 

  As previously indicated, my

wife was very traditional, and because of that, had absolutely

  no problem with me being in

control of our daily events, including sex. In fact, that was the only way she

knew how to live. For the first few years, I concurred and ran the show.

  She complied of course.

After the first few years, with relative boredom setting in, I

  decided I needed to spice

things up a bit. Since I did not believe in cheating, and because

  my wife was not exactly a

voyeur in this area, I had only myself to rely on. You've

  probably come to the

conclusion that I seem to have a thing for the female form clothed in

  soft, shiny, silky material.

Somehow, I think this goes back to my childhood. In any case,

  I bought my wife several of

the softest, and silkiest gowns and negligees I could lay my

  hands on (no pun intended),

and presented them at any occasion I could think of

  (Sometimes just because I

was a great guy).

 

  There was one gown I was

particularly impressed with. It was long (ankle length), white,

  and pure silk. Before I go

any further, I need to qualify something. I know I mentioned

  that my life with my wife

became boring, but it's not because she was unattractive. On the

  contrary, she was, and still

is, quite striking. At five foot, seven inches tall, and never over

  115 pounds, except while

pregnant, firm, full lucious breasts, flat stomach, beautiful hips,

  rear end, and

legs...physically, she's a gorgeous gal. We just couldn't connect mentally

  after a while.

 

  Anyway, regarding the gown,

I was particularly impressed with the way Jeannie filled it

  out. I remember the way her

hair fell around her shoulders, around the spaghetti straps

  which held the silky fabric

to her body, and down to the top of her firm, ripe young

  buttocks. Her breasts were

full and somewhat animated, her nipples protruding like

  beacons through the sheer,

silky fabric. The gown clung to her firm supple hips and

  buttocks, allowing the

outline of her cheeks to shine on through. No matter how many

  times we played out this

scene, I was always mesmerized as I approached her from

  behind. I would slide my

hands over her hips, past her tummy, and right up to her luscious

  breasts, and pull her in to

me. At five foot, eleven inches tall, this worked out to a perfect

  fit. Her tush would slide

right in under my erect member, and to tell you the truth, I always

  became a virtual slave at

this point. Ya gotta realize...holding her ripe, firm breasts, my

  face in her silky, auburn

hair, and my wang buried in pure silk cheeks...Man, I'm

  digressing again.

 

  You're probably wondering

why I had a problem with all of this. After reflecting on what

  I've just written, maybe I'm

wondering too. At the time, and even now, it just wasn't

  enough. There was no

soulmate connection. I needed more. Aside from those few

  moments, there was nothing

else. Even then, it was just a horny me doing what I had to

  do to satisfy myself. And in

a way, I guess I used her beauty to get ultimate satisfaction.

  Unfortunately, it was a

temporary fix, and not a long lasting, love based cure.

 

  You're probably asking,

where the hell are you going with this? I think all of this is

  important if you want to

truly understand the nature of the problems I face right now. I ask

  that you bear with me as,

should this ever happen to you, at least you'll have been

  forewarned.

 

  There is one point that I

have neglected to mention, which may be of particular interest to

  the people who frequent

these channels. Even though I've spent the majority of my life

  (I'm mid forties) at five

foot eleven, I've always wondered what it might be like to be a

  much smaller man. I've

always considered myself to be a very macho, and somewhat

  tough guy (Go Raiders), but

for whatever reason, am intrigued by the idea of being say,

  twenty to twenty five inches

tall, and being cared for by a woman, preferably with a very

  strong maternal instinct.

Not that I necessarily want to be mothered and/or babied...I have

  far too strong a normal

sexual urge to be treated like that. But rather, I'd like to be cared

  for by someone who

understands that I'm far too little to care for myself, but still have all

  the normal sexual desires of

a real man. I realize that I may have to give up some of the

  control that I'm normally

accustomed to having, but in exchange I know that I'll be cared

  for in a loving and

respectful manner. Of course, this is not what I truly wanted; it was just

  fun to think about. To

actually be a little guy, and totally dependent on a woman would be

  out of the question.

Considering what I've described above, isn't it ironic that I'm in my

  current situation? But I

digress.

 

  I remember cupping my wife's

silky breasts from behind, getting lost in her locks, and

  allowing my swollen member

to slide between her silky butt cheeks and thinking, what

  would happen if I were to

suddenly shrink to about 23 or 24 inches in height? What

  would she do? I remember

pondering this question and thinking, 'If I were to ask her that,

  would she think I was a

freak?' After confronting her in this situation a number of times, I

  finally worked up the

courage to ask her THE question. So, as I held her from behind, I

  popped the question, 'Honey,

what would be your reaction if I were say, a little man'

  Predictably, she responded

by saying 'What in the hell are you talking about?' I

  responding by saying that I

had seen people with certain disabilities on the television, and

  this was one that peaked my

curiosity. She then asked why, and I said that it was just

  curiosity, but that we could

drop it if she'd like, to which she replied, 'How little?' I was

  surprised, but responded

'Say twenty to twenty four inches.'

 

  I should have known better.

When she asked 'How little?' I should have at least made a

  mental note of it. I realize

that I've got an unusual interest in the giantess/shrinking

  scenario, but the average

person does not. I guess I got caught up in her answer, and did

  not see a reason to

contemplate any warning signs. Actually her answer was so surprising

  I could only think of the

role playing possibilities. When I answered twenty to twenty four

  inches, she said 'How would

we pay our bills, you couldn't possibly work...Are you

  talking about a permanent

situation, or would you just be my little lover for a short time?' I said, 'What

if we don't know, we'll have to see?' She responded by saying that 'In all

  reality, if you were to

shrink to twenty inches, we'd have to be doing a lot more of this.'

  When she said that, she held

her hands out in a holding or cuddling position. I said, 'What

  does that little gesture

mean?'

 

  She then told me that 'I

don't necessarily believe in all of this fantasy, but obviously you

  have some interest. I don't

know if it's just because you're insecure with our relationship,

  or possibly because you

doubt my love for you. Maybe this 'little man' crap is just a cover

  up for your insecurity. But

let me play along. I will state that if you were to shrink to a

  height of twenty to twenty

four inches, you'd be essentially helpless. My maternal instinct

  would kick in big time. You

most likely would not be able to carry your load financially,

  because you'd be too little

to work. I own my house, and make a pretty good living. Let's

  face it, things would have

to change in major ways. Right now you're the macho big time

  guy, with a macho big-time

paycheck. If what you're proposing ever turns out, you'd

  likely have to be totally

dependent on someone, both physically and financially.'

 

  'I am totally committed to

you, and would not hesitate to take charge of you and your

  situation. Like I said, my

maternal instinct would kick in big time.' I then asked her what

  she meant by that, and she

replied, 'Like I said, things would have to change dramatically.'

  In a smart ass sort of way I

said 'Who the hell for, you or me?' She seemed to grow tired

  of the conversation at this

point and stated, 'Let me sum it up for you...Like I said, I'm

  playing along with you, but

if you were to shrink down to the size of a doll, I'd treat you

  like one. I'm totally

committed to you, and will always take care of you. As I said, things

  would change; we'd be doing

a lot more of this (Hands extended in a holding/cuddling

  way). With the maternal

instinct kicking in, I don't think I could resist picking you up,

  cuddling and protecting you

at every possible juncture. I just don't think I could help it,

  like I said, it's maternal

instinct. I would hope that you could get used to this treatment, as

  it would only be out of my

love for you that you have to accept it (You wouldn't have

  much choice). Believe me,

you'd be most intimately familiar with my breasts over the next few weeks.'

 

  'Most of your life would be

spent on my lap, by my side in bed, or maybe riding my hip in

  the kitchen while I'm doing

my chores. Oh, don't think you won't be doing your share of

  chores, I'll put you to

work. But from your perspective, the world would be a huge,

  possibly unmanageable place.

You'd need a lot of help. That's where I come in. Don't

  think I wouldn't enlist some

help. You know my daughter (Michelle) gets out of school

  over the winter break, and

would love to help take care of you.' Anyway, this is all

  conjecture at this point, I

really don't know why it was ever brought up.' I know it's

  somehow important to you,

and therefore I'm glad we discussed it, but it's just a fantasy

  issue, so can we drop it?' I

decided to let it go at that.

 

 This is a true a digression.

As I was writing, the neighbor girl walked by. Not in my

  control baby. Will be back

on point over the next few days. Hope it's not moving too

  slow. Let me know.

 

  I never brought up the issue

with my wife again, but I made a point to continue

  worshipping her from behind.

I loved holding her that way, but I don't think she ever really appreciated or

enjoyed it. She was graced with the body of an angel, who could make

  heads spin, but never

exhibited much sensuality. Pure beauty doesn't always do it. I did

  however, get her to stand on

a milk carton one time, on the premise that it might be kind

  of wild and/or kinky to make

love standing up. Of course, under this premise I was only

  breast high to her. Knowing

the mindset of the people in this forum, I'm sure you can all

  relate when I say that I

allowed my imagination to run wild. I'm digressing again.

 

  We divorced not too long

after the aformentioned activities. In doing this, of course, I

  took the lead. My wife,

being the follower, never really contested anything, but rather just

  went along with the program,

which in my mind was a major part of our problem. I so

  desired that she get in my

face, show some passion, maybe tell how she felt, or maybe tell

  me where to go. I'd have

taken anything at that point. But it wasn't forthcoming. I

  assumed that she just didn't

care...what I didn't realize at the time was that she was very

  much in love with me, and

deep down had a burning passion for us. She just didn't know

  how to express her feelings

at the time. Believe me, she'd eventually learn how to express

  her feelings in a way that

did not exactly make me feel like a 'happy little camper.'

 

  After the divorce, we both

moved on. After a few unceremonius dates, I met a registered

  nurse and fell in love. To

this day, I haven't loved anyone as much as I loved Billie. It was

  absolutely amazing. We'd get

together on a Friday night, with dinner on her stove. In my

  fashion, I'd grab her from

behind (I love the female butt...I can't help it, as I mentioned

  previously, the right female

butt can turn me into a virtual slave). I'd appear at six, and we

  wouldn't eat until eleven,

which did not bother me in the least. As a medical professional,

  Billie dedicated her

professional life to making people feel better. I especially enjoyed

  those times of the month

when she felt uncomfortable with sex in the traditional manner

  and decided to take care of

me using alternatives. I can guarantee you, we're talking a

  couple of hours here, all

done with loving care. As corny as this sounds, that was the most

  important part.

 

  Jeannie ended up initially

with a prick. I actually had to help her out with her initial beau,

  as I guess I still cared in

some way, and I was concerned for my kids. Eventually

  however, she found a guy I

actually felt I could have been friends with, had our situation

  been different. I took full

custody of our four children and asked for some remuneration to

  cover living costs. We

actually agreed to an amount, and because she ended up

  committed to the new guy,

and since he was the type who did not want arguments in his

  life, I received a small

token of her appreciation on a monthly basis.

 

  While my ex-wife's situation

blossomed into marriage, mine soured. Her ex-husband had

  left her for another woman,

and she was convinced that I would eventually do the same.

  We tried counseling, but the

last time we went, I looked at her and said, 'You know, you

  don't trust me.' Her

response was, 'I trust you now.' I asked what that meant and she

  replied 'I trust you now,

but you'll change, it's only a matter of time.' I asked, 'Are you

  convinced of that?' She said

yes, and I said good bye. I hated to do it, but didn't feel I

  had any other choice. Which

brings us to my current predicament.

 

  Back to reality. I guess I

screwed up big time this week. I was in the house by myself (My

  girlfriend of four years was

off to work for the morning only-Since she'd been granted

  legal custody of me, she'd

cut down to part time hours). I was extremely bored, tried

  reading and watching

television, but couldn't stand it. When the newspaper boy threw the

  paper onto the front lawn, I

got anxious. I knew that I was not supposed to venture

  outside without proper

supervision. According to both my girlfriend and the authorities,

  this was absolutely taboo.

However, since I was bored almost to tears, and because it

  was a very quiet morning, I

figured that no one would notice. I tore off as fast as I could,

  leaving the front door open

just a bit so that I could get back in without trouble.

  Unfortunately, nothing seems

to go as planned. I got the newspaper, turned around and

  started running back toward

the door, but somehow tripped over the protruding sidewalk,

  ramming my mouth into the

ground and feeding myself a bluegrass sandwich.

 

  'Are you alright Mr. Smith?'

I was horrified. Here I was with a mouth full of grass, and I

  was terrified that I had

been discovered in a place where I should not have been. What a

  turn of events. Prior to my

shrinking I would have been concerned about my physical well

  being after such a fall. At

this point, that was the least of my concerns. I didn't want the

  people who were responsible

for me to know that I had ventured, without permission,

  into an area where I should

not have been, my girlfriend's front yard.

 

  You're probably wondering

who asked me about my well being. Come on, I know you

  are. Well, that would be

Mandy, the neighbor's eighteen year old daughter. She was an

  amazing girl, an extremely

athletic girl who starred on the high school volleyball team. I

  would guess her height at

about six feet, with amazing long legs, although in my present

  state I could be off an inch

or two (Actually in my present state, what difference would an

  inch or two make?). Before

the shrinking, she was a flirtatious little thing. I have noticed

  that her flirtations did

increase dramatically afterwards. Up until now, we had never gotten a real

opportunity to talk, but upon stumbling across me in my present state, she

seemed extremely concerned and interested.

 

  She knelt down beside me and

helped me to my feet. As I rose, she took her hand to cup

  my chin and pull the wad of

grass from between my teeth. 'Are you OK sweetie?, she

  asked.' When I responded

that I was indeed OK, she looked at me and said, 'I don't

  think so-At the very least

I'm taking you home to clean you up, and to look you over for

  bruises.' I looked at her

and said, 'Mandy, I'm a man and can take care of myself...I don't

  need your help.' She looked

at me and said 'That may be true, but I don't see the harm

  and at your size you really

have no choice.' With that, she scooped me up, set me on her

  hip, and began the journey

to her home.

 

  Mandy set me down on the

kitchen counter and asked 'What are you wearing under that

  robe Mr. Smith?' Even

standing on the counter I was staring directly into her breasts. I

  hesitated as I didn't know

how to answer her question. My hesitation proved to be a

  mistake, depending on how

you look at it, as Mandy slipped her finger into the knot on

  my belt robe, and deftly

opened me up. It turns out that I was wearing standard issue

  Jockey shorts underneath,

which were removed just as deftly. I was beginning to get

  concerned at Mandy's

behavior...I had no idea where she was heading. She seemed to

  read my concern, and

remarked 'Mr. Smith, you look a bit scared...please don't worry, I

  would never hurt you. You

might think I have ulterior motives, and maybe at some future

  point I will. I love holding

your little body, and I can feel the complete control I have over

  you. Unfortunately, I don't

have the time to show you how much I care for you at this

  time. Believe me, at some

point, I'll make you the happiest little man in our world. Right

  now, I'm simply going to

bathe you and check you for little ouchies. If I find one, you can

  bet I'll kiss it and make it

better.

 

  Mandy bathed me in a warm

soapy solution in her sink. She was true to her word,

  however I do belive that she

lied about the ouchie she found on my penis. While carrying

  me home, I told her about my

concern about being discovered outside. She let me know

  that she'd never tattle on

me, and hoped that none of the other neighbors noticed. I'm

  hoping the same way.

 

  Over the years, my two older

children moved out and went off to college, leaving only my

  two younger children at home

(Currently aged ten and twelve). My ex-wife and I settled

  into a routine where she

would faithfully drop by every other Friday afternoon to pick up

  the kids and keep them for

the weekend, returning them Sunday evening. She had married

  her boyfriend over the

summer, and I thought she was truly happy with him and her new

  life.

 

  I also met someone over this

time (We've been seeing each other for three or four years

  now I guess). Marsha is a

wonderful woman, very feminine with small, delicate features.

  Marsha has two children that

I've grown fond of, a beautiful nineteen year old daughter ,

  named Danielle, who is off

to college (She's currently moved back home for the holiday

  break-six weeks this time),

and a physically gifted thirteen year old son, named Michael.

  Up until a few weeks ago, I

loved throwing the ball around with him. Unfortunately, that

  has become too big a chore

for me now.

 

  Marsha enjoys looking

pretty, which always worked for me. You'll recall that I like

  women who appreciate the

silkier, more feminine things in life. Beyond that though, she is a very loving

and giving woman, who would not hesitate to do anything for the people she cared

about. I always told her that I loved the way she cared for her children,

exhibiting

  possibly the strongest

maternal (Mother Bear) instinct I have ever seen.

  She fell in love with me

almost immediately, and didn't hesitate to let me know.

  Unfortunately, I was not so

quick to return her affection. I still hadn't gotten over my

  previous relationship, and

did not want to hop into another situation right away. OK so I

  sound like a bit of a prick,

but I'm not...I've been honest and up front with her right from

  the start on this. I told

her immediately that I was not willing to commit right away, and

  could not be sure when, or

even if, I would down the road. She acknowledged what I

  said and indicated that she

wasn't too worried, that she knew what she wanted, and that

  she always got what she

wanted. Ironically, it appears that it's worked out just that way.

 

  Sex was enjoyable with

Marsha. She was from the old school, and really did not enjoy

  going beyond the

traditional, except when she got exceptionally horny. It was during those times

that she would insist on getting on top and bucking away. I enjoyed this, but I

really missed having someone go down on me. She tried once or twice, because she

knew this was important to me, but never really enjoyed it. I gotta admit, I was

rather well hung, and I don't know if it was that, or possibly the taste, or

maybe just the idea of it. She could

  just never get into it. I do

have to admit however, that she had the prettiest hands I'd ever

  laid my eyes on. Like I

said, delicate little features, and fabulous nails. When we'd hop

  into bed, she'd run those

nails right up the thigh, under the balls, and right up the shaft.

  Once at the tip, she'd

encircle the shaft with those fingers and gently glide her fist down to

  the thigh again. I greatly

missed the oral part, bit I gotta admit, in the three or four years

  we've been together, through

thick and thin she has never failed to excite me. I am

  beginning to think that I

actually need to re-think my priorities. Although I haven't actually told her

anything, I do believe I am beginning to fall in love with her.

 

  I did find a way to throw my

shrinking fantasy into the ring. I knew I couldn't just throw

  this in out of the blue...I

would have expected her to ask where the hell that notion

  emerged. We happened to be

scanning the pages of an explicit publication, and came

  across a photo of a

prominent little two footer (possibly a little taller) perched on the toes

  of a young cutey. She was

holding his hands straight up to support him. I looked at

  Martha and asked how she'd

react if that were our situation. Keep in mind, we'd been

  drinking a bit, and I

actually think that she considered it a cute question at the time. She Leche de cabra

  had kind of a playful

attitude. She said, 'He's cute, but he's not mine. I wouldn't have

  anything to do with him.' In

a playful way, I pouted and said 'What if that were you and I,

  say with me at twenty

inches?' She replied, 'Tommy, I've already told you I'd do anything

  for you. If you were to

shrink to that height, I would guess that your whole life would

  change. Believe it or not, I

believe in the vow for better or for worse. So I would do

  whatever was required. I'm

sure that you'd be much more dependent, you'd probably

  have to quit working, but

you know I've successfully raised two children, and that I'm

  probably overly loving and

caring. I own my home, and am happy with my job. I'd take

  over all financial

responsiblities. Believe me, you wouldn't have to worry about a thing,

  and I can guarantee that

you'd be nutured physically and emotionally for the rest of your

  life. It's just the way I

am. I'd miss the macho guy obviously, but I'd love you as a little guy

  with all my heart. Does that

answer your question?' It should be noted that while providing me with her

discourse, Marsha had been running a single fingernail over my jeans, just over

my raging member. We both regretted that the kids were around and that we'd have

to wait until the weekend. However, as it turned out, things changed drastically

for me before then.

 

  As I was working away in my

office Friday morning, all I could think about was Marsha

  and getting together that

evening. I knew the ex was to pick up the kids directly from

  school, and keep them for

the next week. I had registered for an out of town business

  conference and was scheduled

to fly out Saturday evening, and not return until eight days

  later, Sunday of the

following week. When I asked my ex to do this favor for me, she

  asked why Marsha couldn't

help out. Then in a somewhat snotty voice she asked 'Or is

  she going with you? Tommy,

how many business trips did you ever take me on?' I said,

  'You know Jeannie, we were

young, and I wasn't even in business at the time.

  Consequently, that would

make it pretty difficult to take you on a business trip, wouldn't

  it? I mean, how many

business trips does a part-time college student, full time student, and

part-time student-janitor take in a year? Can't we just bury the hatchet?' Her

response

  was sort of strange, but I

really didn't give it a second thought (I wish now that I had

  scrutinized her response).

She said, 'That's exactly what I intend to do today. I'm sorry I

  made an issue out of this,

and I'll be there to pick up the kids, but tell me, will Marsha be

  accompanying you on your

trip? I'm sorry, I don't really know why I'm pressing this...I

  guess it's my issue, not

yours.' I responded by saying 'Don't worry, Marsha has to work

  all week, and can't go.' She

then asked 'Just in case I need Marsha to help out with the

  kids, will you be

communicating with her during the week?' I said that we both had

  extremely hectic work weeks,

and that communication would be sparse, if at all. We

  always try to call, but

sometimes it was difficult. I always enjoyed Marsha's independence

  on this issue. It wasn't the

end of the world to wait till the weekend to communicate.

  Anyway, for some reason,

this pleased the ex. She said good bye and we hung up.

 

  Jeannie normally picked up

the kids directly from school of Fridays (generally about three

  o'clock), but called me

again at noon to ask if she could stop by early to pick up some of

  their clothes, and other

items they might need over the next week. It seemed a reasonable

  request to me, so I said

sure, come on over. When I opened the door for her, she was

  wearing a long winter

trench-type coat, which extended to the floor, and holding a small

  mechanical device in her

left hand. I didn't think much of the coat, it was winter after all;

  What didn't make sense is

that Jeannie didn't wear masculine clothes, she always tended

  toward the feminine. I asked

her if she'd like to remove her coat while getting the boy's

  things together? To my

surprise she said yes and actually allowed me to help her remove

  it. Once off, I couldn't

believe what I saw. I was standing directly in back of her watching

  her long auburn hair cascade

around the spaghetti straps of the silky white gown I'd

  bought her while married. I

instinctively slid my hands over her silky hips, up over her

  tummy, and cupped her firm

milky white breasts in my hands. Her hands moved to the

  front of my pants where she

dropped the zipper and backed right in. After dropping my

  pants she wrapped her hands

around mine and pulled them closer, massaging every

  square inch. My erection of

course was buried between her silky firm cheeks.

 

  It's obvious that I lost my

composure a bit, and she loved it. I did manage to state that

  what we were doing was

probably not right. That we were both involved with other

  people, and should probably

separate. In a soft, seductive voice she asked, 'Is that what

  you want right now?' All of

a sudden she spun around and buried her tongue in my throat

  and said 'I've waited a long

time for this, and baby, I want it now.' The determined look in

  her eye actually helped me

to regain some of my composure. In fact, the word determined

  could probably be

characterized as a mild adjective at this point. She was more agressive

  at this point than at any

other time in her life. I said 'What the hell is this all about?' She

  smiled seductively and

replied, 'I've made some changes to our plans.' I said, 'What do

  you mean by our plans, you

have your plans and I have mine?' She laughed at that point,

  and said 'Honey, I'm here to

bury the hatchet once and for all. We have some unfinished

  business. I've changed our

plans. My husband has agreed to pick up the boys and to

  watch them over the next

week; You're coming with me!!!

 

  I said, 'Baby, you're

talking like a maniac. I think I'll just cancel my business trip and keep

  the boys. You need

professional help.' She replied, 'Don't worry sweetie, your

  arrangements have already

been canceled and your next week has been arranged. By the

  way, I really don't need

professional help, I just need your little ass the way I've always

  wanted it.' I looked at the

little mechanical device that she'd set down on the coffee table

  and asked 'What the hell is

that anyway?' She was very direct in her reply when she

  stated 'Haven't you heard of

those devices that certain women are employing to cut their

  boys down to size?' I said,

you mean like those shrinking devices?' Mockingly, she said

  'Yeah, like those shrinking

devices.'

 

  This was incredulous. I

looked at her and said the most intelligent thing I could think of at

  the time...'Bullshit!!'

'Besides it's illegal, you simply can't do it. I won't allow it!!' With that she

pointed the device at me and pushed the button. I tried to run, but that thing

worked

  fast. Before I got two feet,

I tripped over the elastic inseam of the underwear I had been

  wearing. As I lay on the

floor, buck naked, and in a pool of clothes, I noticed that a tall,

  silky figure had cast a

shadow over me. I was madder than hell, and spoke my mind,

  'You'll never get away with

this, it's a criminal activity.' She placed a forefinger under my

  chin, looked me directly in

the eyes and replied 'Babydoll, don't you think I've taken some

  precautions? Why do you

think I've asked you so many questions this week? I know I'll

  have to appear before a

judge, but let's face it, when I showed up here today, you were

  already in this condition.

You were terrified and asked me to pick you up and comfort

  you. I don't expect to gain

custody of you, I guess that'll be granted to your girlfriend

  and/or her daughter. But I

do know that I can talk myself out of this rap.'

 

  'What abouut your husband

then? Won't your disappearance over the next week concern

  him?' I've already talked to

him. Before we were married, I told him I had one more piece

  of unfinished business to

settle with you. I let him know my plans exactly. I explained that

  during our marriage,

everything was done your way. We had sex where and when you

  wanted it. There were times

when I really didn't feel like it, but I couldn't stand the sting of

  your disapproval. I wanted

so much to please you, but I never truly felt that I did. All I

  know now is that this is my

week, that you and I have alot of talking to do, and that by the

  end of the week, I expect to

be the most emotionally and sexually satisfied woman

  around. So, without further

adieu, let's you and I cuddle up and hit the road.' With that

  she picked me up, set me on

her hip, grabbed the shrinking device and her jacket, and

  opened the door. Realizing

that I was still buck naked heading out the door, I protested 'I

  want some clothes.' She

looked at me and said, 'Where you're going, you won't need

  them. Besides, I knew I was

taking you down to an initial height of twenty four inches, so

  I went shopping the other

day, and took the liberty of buying you a few things. Don't

  worry though, I've got a

good idea about what types of clothing and fabric you like. You

  won't be disappointed, my

little doll.' She then tickled my chin with a free finger and said

  'Besides, you're a lot cuter

in your birthday suit.'

 

   ML 2                       

(edit this message) I like this one...hope you enjoy it

 

  As we walked out my front

door, Jeanine decided a little humiliation therapy was in order.

  As she closed the door, she

intentionally let me slip down her hip a couple of inches. I

  reacted instantly grabbing

her breast with my right hand, and the top portion of her gown

  just under her shoulder

blade with my left. I gotta believe that she planned this, and had

  some idea how I'd react.

She'd already caught me and had begun hiking me back up,

  when she looked me directly

in the eye and said that getting frisky in front of the neighbors wouldn't do me

any good. I said 'Maybe not, but you know that was just a reaction, you did what

you did on purpose. She looked down at my penis, and said 'Do you call that a

reaction too?' By the looks of your little nipples and those goose pimples, I

guess maybe I should have dressed you before we left. I do believe I can

alleviate a lot of your

  discomfort, and hold you

more safely if I make a little change here. OK, when I shift you

  to the front of my body, I

want you to throw those little arms around my neck, and try to

  wrap your legs around my

tummy. Ready, Go! Sure enough, in one smooth motion we

  had completed the

transaction. There was one problem however, my throbbing member

  was literally engulfed in

silk. As she walked, she held me close, her hand literally cupping

  my butt cheeks and holding

me ever so close, allowing the folds of her soft silky gown to

  carress my penis without

relief.

 

  I asked her how far she'd

parked away and she stated about another 200 feet. I knew I

  couldn't hold off that long

(Hell, she knew it too), and she asked why I was so concerned

  about that. 'After all,

you're not the one carrying a little bundle.' I said you know how I

  am. I'm about ready to

explode and damn it you know it. Please either put me down, or

  at least find another way to

carry me. She looked down at me, smiled and said 'Quit

  acting like a child and

exercise some self-control. I'll make one guarantee to you. If you so

  much as unload a single

drop, you'll have some punishment coming your way tonite.' She

  then gave me her most

seductive smile, and planted the softest kiss on my lips, all the

  while holding me close. I

screamed 'Please hold me another way, I can't control this.'

  With that she flipped me

around so that I was facing away from her, wrapped the trench

  coat around me, and

essentially carried me like a baby to the car. I actually thanked her

  for that, to which she

replied, 'No need, I just wanted to hear you beg.' I said 'When you

  referred to punishment, what

were you referring to.' She stated that she felt I asked way

  too many questions for a

little boy, but that the punishment she was considering, would

  have been proper for a child

who needed to learn manners and self control. Hell, I hadn't

  even considered asking

passers by for help, I was far too busy trying to control myself.

 

  Once we got to her car, she

chirped sarcastically, 'I don't mind driving honey, you sit in

  the back.' With that she

placed the bundle on the back seat, and said 'Let me unwrap you

  and buckle you in.' So she

took off the trench coat, giggled when she noticed the two little

  stains on the fabric, set me

upright in the seat and and buckled me in. She pondered,

  'Hmm, sweetie something just

doesn't seem right, I don't feel you're safe like this. Let me

  check the trunk. Here we go,

I'd almost forgotten that I'd bought it.' With that statement,

  she re-appeared with a new

child restraint seat in hand. This was direct humiliation, and I

  wasn't going to stand for

it. I told her ' I absolutely refuse to get in that chair, that it was

  made for a child.' She

grabbed my chin and looked me directly in the eye and said 'You

  don't have to get in, I'll

place your little ass in that chair myself. It's for your own good.

  Besides, even under the law

those seats were not necessarily designed for children, but

  simply for little persons.'

If you even think about fussing over this, I'll try to remember the

  type of punishment I was

thinking about earlier.' Do we have an understanding?' I truly

  wanted to say NO, but all I

could manage was'Yes dear.'

 

  At that point, she did

something a little strange. She took the car seat to the passenger

  side in front, and strapped

it in there, and said 'OK, come to Mommy.' When I asked

  why she had placed the seat

where she did, she laughed and asked 'What did I tell you

  about little boys and too

many questions?' I replied that 'I just didn't understand why you

  put it in the front, and why

you turned it around backwards so that it faced the passenger

  seat.' She told me that

'It's much safer to have the seat turned around backwards, and that

  she saw no reason why I

needed to look out the window anyway.' Then she smiled sort

  of seductively, and said, 'I

wanted it in the front seat so that I could keep an eye on you,

  we have a long drive you

know.' 'Now little fella, let me help you into your seat.' With that

  she grabbed me, placed me in

the seat and fastened me in tight.'

 

  She knew I was still upset,

even as we hit the highway. She carressed my face with her

  fingertips and said, 'Don't

worry, we just need to establish a hierarchy here. I think with a

  little communication over

the next couple of days, we'll do just fine.' As she slid her fingers down to my

penis, she said 'In the meantime, I want to see how this little guy is doing.'

For the next hour and one-half she was merciless, running her nails up and down

the shaft, rolling it between her thumb and forefingers, and loving every

minute. She was in complete control and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. She

must have brought me to the brink fifteen or twenty times, only to deny my

release each and every time. I would try to pull her fingers away, but at my

size I didn't stand a chance, she simply overpowered me,

  brushing my hands aside as a

mother would a toddler trying to reach into the cookie

  batter. After about an hour

of this, I just laid back, and took it. Realizing my frustration,

  she looked at me and asked

why I had given up. With tears welling in my eyes, I

  explained that it was a

waste of my time, and I told her for the first time in our lives

  together, I realized that

she could take complete control of me, virtually at will. She was

  very pleased with that

observation, but it scared the hell out of me, and I had no idea what

  to expect over the next few

days. She continued to caress me, even as we pulled up her

  driveway.

 

  She stopped the car about

twenty feet from the house, unbuckled my seat belt, and held

  out her hands to offer me a

lift. I told her that this was not a control issue, that in spite of

  my size, I was fully capable

of negotiating the twenty feet on my own. I half jokingly

  indicated that I might

however, need help with the doorknob. I really needed a break

  from the constant sexual

stimulation I'd been exposed to over the last couple of hours.

  She did warn me that their

dog was on the premises, that he was of pretty good size, and

  that she didn't know how

he'd react to a twenty four inch tall guy. I said 'I've been around

  dogs all my life, no

problem.' She did let me proceed on my own, even though she

  indicated it was against her

better judgement. She assured me that she'd be right behind

  me all the way if I needed

her, and I said, 'Hey I may be small, but I'm still a man...You

  women worry too much.'

Famous last words. Sure enough, when I turned the corner, he

  was there staring me

straight in the face. At my new size, this dog towered over me and

  just glared, with teeth

fully exposed. I really wish I hadn't made my next move, however, I don't know

what might have happened if I didn't. I'm pretty sure I acted of pure instinct,

  possibly because of my

diminished physical stature, but when that dog growled and took

  his first step at me, I spun

around as fast as I could and made a beeline for Jeannie's

  waiting arms. Jeannie had

anticipated this situation, and had dropped to her knees to

  catch me. I jumped into her

arms, flinging my arms around her neck and wrapping my legs around her waist.

She held me every bit as close as she had all day long, but this time it

  was different. This time it

was a warmer, safer experience.

 

  Jeannie looked at me and

asked, 'Would you mind if I carried you into the house now.' I

  looked right at her and

said, 'No, as a matter of fact, I'm a little shaky and don't know if I

  could do it on my own.' We

walked in and she sat down on a chair at the kitchen table.

  She looked into my eyes and

said 'Honey, you're so shaky, would you mind if we just sat

  here for a while, at least

until you calm down.' I told her that I thought that would be a

  great idea. She held me ever

so close for about a half hour, like she had all day. After a

  while, she let her left hand

slide down under my butt and again pressed my now erect

  member back into the folds

of her gown. I looked at her and said that we probably

  shouldn't be doing that as I

was unsure of being able to control my reaction. She looked

  at me thoughtfully, and said

'You've learned a lot of new lessons today. You learned that I

  have the ability to take

control of you at any point in time. Had I done that instead of

  letting you proceed to the

house by yourself, I'd have saved you that frightening

  experience.

 

  I want you to know, I still

have a lot of things planned for you this week, and they will be

  done in a manner that I

prescribe. I know that you felt humiliated at times today, and it's

  not going to hurt to feel a

little more humiliation while learning your lessons. We also need to spend time

talking about things such as some of the things I disliked during our married

years. I will be demonstrating some of those things over the next few days, and

you are going to be forced to participate in most of these activities. My

primary goal will be to put you in my position, so that you'll how it felt to be

me. That will be in the next few days

  however. For now,

considering your frightening experience, I jsut want to take care of the

  two of us this evening. I'll

cook us a little dinner, after we bathe together, and we'll have to

  figure out sleeping

arrangements. Actually, I already had those planned out, but your

  incident helped to kick in

my maternal instinct. You will sleep with me tonite...believe me, that is not

arguable by you. She took my chin, looked straight into my eyes in her most

  seductive voice, 'For now, I

want you to know that if you should prove unable to control

  your reaction to this

beautiful, shiny, silky gown, you will not be punished, but rather I'll try to

make it a most beautiful experience. I know I teased and humiliated you today,

and I'd rather you held it in so that I could properly take care of you when we

bathe.' Now kiss

  me babydoll.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ML 3                        

(edit this message)

I gotta admit, it took

everything I had not to release my load. Of course, in a way, I again

  had to rely on Jeannie's

help to accomplish that. After a bit of cajoling on my part, and, I

  don't like admitting this

part, a little begging, she agreed to shift me around on her lap so

  that my tush was now firmly

planted on her silky left thigh, and my two legs dangled over

  her right thigh. She put her

left arm aroung my shoulder, and her right hand to cup my

  thigh to hold me close. Upon

placing her right hand under my thigh she extended a

  manicured nail between into

the crack which separates my butt cheek and thigh, and

  lightly flickered my balls.

My reaction to this was a slight shiver, which did not go

  unnoticed by her.

 

  We sat without talking for

at least a half hour. My mind was racing the whole time. I was

  still extremely angry,

scared, and disappointed with having my life changed so

  dramatically; I knew that

this was my long-term problem, and that I needed to confront

  Jeannie on that. More

shocking to me however, was when I made the realization that

  prior to even considering

the possibilities of any long-term problems, I needed to

  concentrate on getting

through my short-term crisis. I was sitting in the arms of a woman

  who'd already established

her physical dominance over me, who obviously had some

  deep seated animosity toward

me. Moreover, it had become obvious that she had

  meticulously planned all of

this out, and that she had a lot more in store for me over the

  next few days.

 

  I began to think about the

way Jeannie had comforted me since her dog had threatened

  me, and tried to make sense

of it. Of even more interest was her reference to her maternal

  instinct, as this had never

kicked in with our children. It was then that I had sort of a

  strange thought, or

actually, a strange remembrance...She had indeed referred to her

  'maternal instinct' while we

were married, while we were discussing my giantess fantasy. I remember her

saying that if 'you were to shrink down a helpless size, my maternal instinct

  would kick in, and we would

doing a lot more of this,' extending her hands to me in

  holding and/or cuddling

position, much like she extended them to me earlier in the car

  when she offerred to carry

me in. Being in my current position, after all that had happened

  over the last several hours,

this somehow made me very nervous. I didn't know where I

  was headed for the next few

days, but I decided then and there, that I would concentrate

  only on that for now, try to

keep Jeannie happy, and worry about my long-term future

  later.

 

  'Penny for your thoughts

little guy?' Strange question I thought, but I gave her the safe

  answer, the one I knew she

was looking for...'I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm happy

  that you did this, but I

will tell you that your dog scared the hell out of me. Had I listened

  to you in the car, I

wouldn't have had to experience that. I know I have much to learn, but

  I did learn today, just how

small and helpless I am; I'm just glad you had the wisdom to

  know that I'd act like the

macho prick I am, or at least used to be, and to be there to save

  and protect me. Also, thank

you for comforting me so warmly and lovingly; I feel so safe

  in your arms.' She looked at

me and said, 'You're still the little charmer, that's for sure.

  Yes, you do have much to

learn, but we'll get to that later. For now, why don't you get the

  water running in the

bathtub, and I'll get dinner on the stove...everything's pre-cooked, I

  just need to warm it up. I

didn't want anything to get in the way of my, excuse me, I meant

  our pleasure this week. So

skiddaddle. With that she set me on the floor, tapped my little

  tush, and walked to the

kitchen. I concluded that her reference to her pleasure rather than

  to our mutual pleasure did

not go unnoticed by me, and confirmed my decision to

  concentrate on the current.

 

  After filling the tub (Her

planning was meticulous, I found out that she'd had a plumber

  come in to switch the water

handles to the outside of the tub, anticipating that she'd have

  me perform this chore at

some point), I decided to test the water temperature before

  hopping in. As the side of

the tub extended to nearly my height, this was going to prove

  difficult. I looked around

for something to climb on, anticipating that if I could just climb to the top of

the tub wall, I could reach my hand down and touch the water before jumping

  in. I certainly wasn't going

to ask for any help, although as it turned out, that would have

  been a wiser move. All I

could find was a child's training toilet. I sighed as I realized the

  implications of her having

such a potty on hand, but went about my work. 'How are things

  going in there baby, do you

need any help?' In spite of my decision to comply with her

  wishes, and to try to say

the right things over the nest few days, something stirred deep

  inside me. I was still a man

damnit, and a man had to stand up for himself sometimes. I

  responded probably a little

too condescendingly 'It's not like this project requires an

  Einstein. I'm a man afterall,

and the last thing I'll need is help from a woman on a simple

  project. Furthermore, I sure

hope you're holding on to this potty trainer for sentimental

  reasons, because you're not

going to get me to use it.' From the other room, I could hear

  her laughing heartily. Under

her breath, I heard her mutter, 'this week's going to be a riot.'

  I don't believe she intended

me to hear that. Out loud she did exclaim, again a little

  mockingly, 'I know you're a

big, strong man. I'm going to ignore your little smat-ass

  comments. After all, I did

promise to care of you and show you a good time tonight.'

 

  After dragging the potty

seat over, which at my size was no easy task, I climbed onto the

  seat portion, and in one

fluid motion, jumped to try to latch onto the side of the tub. My

  intent was to straddle the

top of this wall and to reach down to test the water temperature.

  Unfortunately, the top of

the wall appeared to have been greased, as it was covered with

  a very slippery substance.

As you've probably guessed, my momentum caried me right

  over the top; I scratched

and clawed away, but to no avail and fell into the brink below.

  Guess what, the water was

not at the temperature I'd intended, but I'm sure you'd already

  anticipated that. It was

freezing cold, and I let out an involuntary scream. From the other

  room, I heard 'Are you

alright baby? Please don't get angry with me again, but I thought I

  heard a scream, and I just

want to know if you need any help. I know you're a big man,

  and that this is a foolish

and perhaps repetitive question, but when I hear a scream, all my

  protective instincts kick

in, and at the risk of raising your ire, I feel obligated to ask.'

  Meanwhile, back at the tub,

I'm in a panic, frantically trying to claw my way out.

  Unfortuately, I filled the

tub to about eighteen inches, and most of my body was covered,

  and I'm cold. Of course,

without an

Giantess Stories: ML 1

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