Giantess Stories: Getting Away

 

 

 

Getting Away

by

Pendragon

 

This is a tale of magic, intrigue, lust, torture, revenge, and love. Anyone

who respects logic and despises fiction should stop reading now. Anyone who

wishes may continue.

Hello, my name is Sunshine Studebacher. Yes, I'm a guy. I'm a little skinny

guy, about 5 foot 7, with longish yellow hair. My parents were a little out of

it when I was named. Well, my mom was on painkillers and my dad was on a little

acid, but that's besides the point. My friends call me Sonny. Like the mobster

in "The Godfather." Those who aren't my friends kick my ass on a regular basis.

Because I'm narrating this, you can pretty much tell that I will survive what

 

happens through the duration of this story. I hope that doesn't disappoint

anyone reading. I do come close to death many times. I'd tell you more, but then

you wouldn't listen to the rest of my story.

It all started my junior year of high school. I was 17, taking all honors

courses, which wasn't helping my popularity at all. I would have gone to a

magnet school, but my parents, who were both dumb as bricks, thought that I

needed a normal high school experience or else I'd be emotionally stunted. I

guess they don't think getting my head bashed into the wall every week wasn't

stunting. However, those beatings did let me meet the school nurse, Barbara, who

looks like she just got off of "Baywatch," and who plays an integral part of

this story. ( But don't tell her I said that. She doesn't know about it... )

Well, my story basically starts during spring break. My Great Aunt Susan died,

and my mom, dad, and I all had to go up to the funeral. My Aunt Susan was the

only person in my family who also hated my name, so we had a bit of a bond.

Susan was actually her middle name. Her parents had named her Augustina-Detroit.

Anywho, I know, it's a shitty way to spend a break, but I couldn't not go. Well,

actually I could, but my mom caught me trying to sneak out of the house the

night before we left. We live in Maryland, near DC. My Great Aunt lived up in

Maine. And my parents are to cheap to take a plane. So, here I was, on the day

before Palm Sunday, getting ready for a ten hour drive, if I was lucky. The last

time we went up to Maine, the shrimp fisherman were striking on I-95, and we had

to wait for about 6 hours for them to get cold and go home.

My parents occupied the front two seats of our little VW bug ( my parents are

aging hippies... ) and I was thrown into the back. Now, don't get me wrong, I

like my parents, but I just don't like talking to them. So I spent the entire

car ride listening to Buffalo Tom, The Replacements, and Tom Petty in my

disc-man. I had just finished hearing Tom squeal out a high-A in "Freefalling"

when we pulled into Cousin Deborah's house. I grabbed my bags and headed into

her house. It was about 10:00 PM, but my parents insisted on talking with

Deborah until after midnight. Finally, they all went to bed and I crashed on

Deborah's hide-a-bed.

We woke up about 6:00 AM. We had to shower and get ready for the funeral.

We...I'm sorry, I must be boring you half to death. I have a tendency to ramble.

Let me sum up the non-important details. We went to the graveyard in 6 inches of

 

snow, where we froze to death as some pastor said a few words. Next on the

agenda was a meeting with Aunt Susan's lawyer, to settle her estate. My parents,

being the unmaterialistic types, sent me in lieu of them. Great, an afternoon of

sitting with a bunch of my greedy relatives.

They dropped me off at the lawyer's office, then went off to go bowling. I

entered the office and saw a beautif ul, sexy, thirty-ish woman in a power suit

sitting behind a desk. Also in the room were various relatives, including my

Aunt's three sons, a few cousins, and my grandfather. The sons got the money,

the cousins got the furniture, and my grandfather got the house. After they all

cleared out, I felt as if I had wasted my afternoon. But then, the lawyer,

Denise, pulled me aside as I was about to leave.

"Sunshine?" she asked.

God, I hate my name. "Yes?" I replied.

"Come with me. Your Great Aunt left you something special."

I left the office with her and hopped into her Lexus. We drove to the local

bank, where she stopped and got out. I followed her in, where she talked to the

manager, who then took me to the vault in the back. The security guard opened it

up, and Denise handed me the key. It had a number on it. 1764. I found the

corresponding safety deposit box, and opened it up. Inside were a few letters, a

jewelry box, and a fifty dollar bill. I put the fifty in my wallet and the rest

into my backpack. I wasn't depressed because I hadn't expected much. We're not a

rich family. But I was curious as to why it that little stuff was in a safety

deposit box.

Denise then gave me a peck on the cheek, saying, "I know how you must feel.

Everyone loved Susan. She was a special person. We will all miss her." She then

dropped me off at the bowling alley, where my parents were finishing their

seventh set. We then drove home, arriving in our driveway at about 4 in the

morning, Monday. I slept until Wednesday, dreaming of Denise. Man, she was hot.

She doesn't ever appear in this story again, but damn, she was still a fox...

I know you are all yawning, wondering when the good stuff will start. Just be

patient, and it will all come in due time. People nowadays have no respect for a

well told story. They just want the good stuff. It was a sad day when people

read Reader's Digest more often than an actual book. Where was I? Ah, yes.

It wasn't until Friday that I remembered the letters and the jewelry box. I was

up in my room, which was decorated with hemp leaf wallpaper ( pictures, not

actual leaves... ) when I opened my backpack. I placed the box on my desk and

sat on my bed with the letters. Surprisingly, they were addressed to me. The

first one was about how proud she was of me. With my grades, my singing, my

acting, ( two more reasons I got the bloody hell beaten out of me... ) and

lastly, with my resemblance to her as a child. The second letter was more of an

instruction book. It told me to open the jewelry box, which I did. Inside was a

ring, a woman's ring, with the picture of a heart on it. It was too small for my

ring finger, but fit well onto my pinkie, so I slid it on. I then read on. It

 

told me that when I ever wanted to get away from it all, I just had to bring the

heart design to my own heart, and in a few moments, I would get away. It then

told me I had to kiss the ring in order to return. It sounded like a bunch of

horseshit, but I put the ring on anyway. I forgot about it all through the rest

of the break, until I returned to school on Monday.

I woke up on time for once, showered, and put on a T-shirt and jeans. I hopped

on my bike and peddled off, getting to school with plenty of time to spare. I

also had plenty of time to get my ass-whupped, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

First, I bumped into Ali. Ali ( short for Alison ) was one of the few girls who

talked to me. She was about my height, with long red hair and green eyes. She

wasn't looking all that well, kinda queasy.

"Hey Ali. What's wrong? You look a little green."

"Yeah, I think I caught whatever is going around. I think I need to go to the

clinic in a few minutes."

I looked over her shoulder and saw Spike Bradshaw coming, with a pissed off look

in his eyes. Spike was one of the guys who beat me up regularly. I whispered to

Ali, "Hey, maybe I'll see you there. Spike looks like he just busted a nut."

Ali giggled and pecked me on the cheek, before walking off to class. Spike, who

stood a towering 6 foot 5, glared down at me, and my right hand.

"What's that on you're finger there, Sunshine, you pussy. A fucking heart?

You're a fucking fag, man."

You can see how I have come to hate my name. My parents might as well have named

me vagina. I didn't respond to Spike. I never do. He ripped the ring off of my

finger, scraping off some skin.

"Not bad. What is it, silver?"

Now I had to talk. This was my fucking inheritance he was stealing.

"Give that back! It was my Great Aunt's..."

"And now it's going to be my girlfriends. You got a problem with that?"

"YES!!!"

The halls went silent. People had seen me getting beat up, but they never saw me

stand up for myself. I was pissed off. His girlfriend, Roberta, was a stupid

ditz. She'd lose the ring and it would be gone forever. Fed up, I took a swing

at Spike. I connected with his nose, which promptly started to bleed.

"You fucking gay-ass bitch! You hit me? That's it, you're going to the fucking

infirmary!"

With that, he slid the ring onto his pinkie, along with several other pointy,

jagged, pieces of metal, and began to punch me, in the head, in the stomach, in

the nuts. Finally, when I was about to collapse in a bloody heap, he hit me in

the chest. I felt the heart ring hit right above where my heart would be. He

then turned to Roberta, who was nearby, and handed her the ring. She put it on

and walked away, with her hand in his hand, which was bloody from his all out

melee against me. A few kids I knew helped me to the clinic, where I was placed

on a bed. Nurse Barbara was out, helping a kid with a broken leg get his

wheelchair up the stairs into the school. The only people who knew I was on the

bed were off at class. I could only close my eyes and lay on the paper sheet, in

pain, and wait for Barbara to return and call my parents to pick me up.

 

However, in a few moments, my body began to heal. I felt my jaw snap back into

place and my cuts scab, then heal altogether. I opened my eyes, expecting to see

the clinic, as usual. Instead, I saw Ali. She was standing by the clinic door. I

waved to her, but she didn't wave back. I was about to jump off the bed and ask

her why she was being rude, when I realized I couldn't. The floor was about 1000

feet away. Somehow, I had shrunk, along with my clothes. Being the bright young

lad I am, it didn't take long for me to recognize what Aunt Susan had meant by

"getting away." The ring shrunk you down. But usually, the ring stays with you,

and you can kiss it at your leisure. This was a bit more complicated.

While I was figuring that out, I didn't notice Nurse Barbara return. I didn't

see her check Ali into the clinic. And, most importantly, I didn't see Ali about

to sit her gigantic, beautiful, derriere on top of my less than strapping form.

Well, are you happy now? The interaction you've all been anticipating for the

last 3 pages has finally occurred. But now, I'm afraid you will have to wait a

few more days for you to get all the juicy details. For you see, this was the

introductory section. You never get the good stuff in the introductory section.

But fear not, for I will continue my story. And to whet your whistle, I will

tell you a preview in pig latin: Ali ay's ussy pay. Arbara bay's reast bay's.

Happy? I thought you would be.

Ahem.

Where was I? Ah, yes. Nurse Barbara showed Ali to the back room, where the beds

are, then Ali immediately sat herself down on top of where I had been sitting

for the last few minutes. I didn't notice what was going on until her rear was

about a few seconds from my body, at which point I stared like a deer into a

really sexy pair of headlights. I closed my eyes and screamed, I'll admit that,

but it's not like anybody heard me. Besides, luck was on my side, and I wound up

not under her rear, but right below it. When I opened my eyes, I was staring

directly at her jeans-clad crotch.

I'm not sure if I mentioned this, but I really had the hots for Ali. I mean, I'm

a rather realistic guy ( except when magic rings make me lose 99% of my

height... ) and Ali is one of the few girls I have a realistic chance of scoring

with. We've known each other for years, and she never laughed at me when I

wasn't trying to be funny. My life up to that point had included many missed

opportunities to ask her out and get to know her better.

And here she was, this object of my affection, laying down, half conscious, and

completely unaware of my presence. I still didn't have the courage to make the

first move. Luckily for my years of pent-up sexual frustrations, I didn't have

to.

Nurse Barbara pulled a cover over Ali, who was shivering, turned off the room's

lights, and shut the door. Ali had mentioned something about a math exam 7th

period, which explained why she wasn't at home, sleeping. She had to be at

school to take the exam. I waited for a few moments, drinking in her aroma, not

worrying how I would get back to normal. Ali had the effect on me. Whenever I

was with her, I forgot my worries. Like in 7 th grade, when my science project

 

nearly killed the science teacher, I sat down with her and she made me feel all

better. ( An interesting sidenote for that story. My parents congratulated me

for trying to fuck the system... )

All of a sudden, There was great rustling above me. Since I was in the dark

under the covers, I couldn't see what was happening, but I heard a zipper unzip,

a slurping sound, and a moan. While I tried to make sense of that, a huge,

moist, hand swept down at me and before I knew it, I was in a gyrating, pulsing,

steaming place. The smell was stronger than before. Ali had unwittingly stuffed

me inside of her. I wondered if it was a subconscious want to take our

friendship to the next level. ( Hey, a guy can dream, can't he? )

I think it goes without saying that I was a virgin before that experience. On

most levels, I still am. Having your 1/4 an inch body lost inside of the vagina

of a woman who doesn't know of your presence doesn't seem to qualify as

intercourse. Very serious foreplay, yes. But I would be lying to say I didn't

enjoy it. I saw parts of a women only gynecologists know exist. But, of course,

it didn't last. Ali was in a school, which makes sexual pleasure a little hard

to make public, even if you are in a back room. Imagine if Nurse Barbara had

walked in on that. Ali would be scheduled to see the school psychologist from

now to graduation.

After her self-gratification, Ali snapped her panties back into place and zipped

up her jeans, trapping me deep inside of her. It was dark, smelly, with sex

everywhere. Kinda like Amsterdam, but with no drugs. Every move I made elicited

a response from Ali, but I couldn't stand still. I had this vision in my mind as

being trapped inside Ali during her period. I had nightmares about that for

weeks after this story ended. It was about lunch time when I had crawled up her

love canal to the wet hairs outside of her. I decided to walk up and out of her

panties, then under her jeans to her bare midriff. I had to get Ali's attention.

Wandering a school with 1500 foot kids thundering down all around me was not my

idea of a safe school day. Maybe I could have Ali flirt with Spike so he would

give my ring to her. All I knew was I had to get her to notice me.

I began to walk up her stomach and came to where her shirt meets her skin.

Through the darkness of the sheets and the room, I didn't realize I was walking

under her shirt until I tripped on her bra strap a few minutes later. I fell

onto the soft ground with a thud, which caused Ali to sit up quickly, throwing

me around the inside of her shirt. When she decided it was only in her head, she

sat back down. I had lost all my bearings during the movement, and finally

judged I was in her bra. I don't know the physics of how that happened, but I

know it did.

I crawled out of her bra, and heard Ali breathing. She really was sick. Her

breaths were all labored, with a very throaty, phlegmy sound to them. As I

exited the collar of her shirt and climbed an errant strand of hair to her face,

I saw how bloodshot her eyes were, and how sick she looked. I hoped she would be

all right. ( I also hoped she didn't have any sexually communicable diseases, or

 

I was seriously fucked. ) Just as I was about to make a turn to her ears, there

was a bright, blinding light, and I fell, startled, onto Ali's big, thick lips.

While still on the ground, I saw Nurse Barbara enter the room, standing over Ali

in one of those hot little nurse's outfits. It was then I realized I was in

trouble. If Barbara started a conversation, I would probably be ingested by Ali

when she opened her mouth to talk. By a queer strike of luck, Ali started first

by coughing. From the way it sounded to me, she was coughing up a lung.

A good many things happened in the next few moments. I was pushed up by a blast

of air coming from Ali's uncovered face. Ali fell back to her bed, slightly

drained from the task. Nurse Barbara bent over to check on Ali, letting a good,

relative 50 foot space between her uniform and her body, which the arc of my

flight descended directly into. I landed on one of the two of Barbara's most

memorable qualities, where I lost my lunch and consciousness. ( I was lucky not

to land in it. There's nothing worse than landing in a puddle of your own vomit.

)

From what I could piece together afterwards, Barbara told Ali that it was almost

7th period, and Ali got up and collected her belongings. Nurse Barbara waited

for her shift to end about an hour later, and drove home, where she stripped off

her uniform and laid down for a nap. It was about then that I woke up, expecting

to find myself back at home, awakening from a really odd nightmare. When I tried

to stand, a tight piece of fabric hit my head and I collapsed. Odd, I thought

that my ceiling was quite a bit lower than that. Then things began to come

together, and I remembered most of the last few hours. I wiggled my way down to

her aerolae, where her nipple gave me enough room to stand up, and tried to

think of what to do and where I was. I couldn't be at school. It was too quiet

for school. Plus, I could hear Barbara snoring. I guessed she had to be at home,

and since I had never been to her house before, that didn't help me much. As for

what to do, I was seriously low on ideas.

However, that question was answered by Barbara, who got up and primped herself

in front of a mirror. When I popped my head out of her bra, I couldn't even see

myself in the reflection. She then put on a nice little dress, grabbed a purse,

and went out to her car. It was very cold outside and her nipples stood out

about three times as much as I was tall. I sat down on it and waited to gauge

where I was going. I hoped it wasn't a date. The last thing I needed was a 1600

foot tall guy and his 200 foot long penis. That has become another one of the

nightmares I have every once in a while. Ick.

When she stopped driving and parked, I climbed up to see where she was. There

was a sign that read "The Pussy Cat Scratch." There was also a door marked,

"Dancer's Only," which Barbara headed straight towards. I knew she couldn't

survive on a nurses salary, but I never would have guessed she moonlighted as a

stripper. Especially at this place. I heard that the dancers don't dance alone.

They tend to dance in groups of girls. There's even a mud pit for the girls who

 

need the most quick cash.

I had always wanted to go to one of these clubs, but you had to be 21. I had no

idea how much I would learn about that club as the evening wore on...

Next time: Sonny visits "The Pussy Cat Scratch." 'Nuff said.

P.S. I hope Cambodia is satisfied.

Nurse Barbara entered a brightly lit room with about fifteen other women around

her age in various stages of undress. I could only slightly see what was going

on from my vantage point. Some were putting on leather panties, some were

ripping the crotch out of their leggings, and some were oiling themselves up for

maximum shine. Realizing that Barbara, too, would be undressing, I decided to

slip down into her bra, grabbing hold of her nipple. A few moments after I

secured myself, off came her dress, followed closely by her bra. Now I could see

the whole room. I could feel myself getting, well, extremely horny. I was, after

all, in the presence of a whole lot of women who use their bodies to get men to

give them their cash.

So I did what any boy of 17 would do in the same situation. I began to hump

Barbara's gigantic nipple. Looking back, I kinda regret it. If I had remained

clear headed, I could have avoided a lot of trouble for myself. As it was, I

didn't notice when Nurse Barbara attached her tassels to her nipples, right

under where I was doing my business. I also didn't notice when Barbara oiled

herself up. I didn't notice her put on a nurses outfit, pushing me up to her

breast. And, by the time I was finished, Barbara was on her way out to the

platform, ready to perform for about 200 men, all ready to grope her at their

first opportunity.

Standing on her left tit, I saw the famed mud pit to the left (with about

three girls going at it inside), a few dancing platforms with poles to the

right, and the dirty old men right in front, backed by a largely overstocked

bar. The catcalls began early, and, after a few moments of Barbara posing,

looking as innocent as she could, an announcer began to declare, "Gentlemen,

let's hear it for Nurse Naughty!"

With that, Barbara began to do her dance. She blew kisses, began to lick an

oversized tongue depressor, then threw off her uniform, showing only her

tasseled tits and thong covered crotch. She placed the tongue depressor into her

thong, then, to my horror, began to shake her tassels.

I was able to hold on to the wildly flying pieces of fabric for a few

rotations, but Barbara was just getting started. Soon, she began to go at it

full speed, and I lost my grip and went flying into the room. I could have sworn

that I was dead there. But as I began to fall, I floated. I guess my weight was

not great enough to overcome the air. And so I floated safely to the ground,

landing not with a thud, but with a splash.

I was in a gigantic, dirty place. It was constantly churning, with huge

movements all around. Suddenly, a huge figure came up below me and I was picked

up by it, giving me an aerial view of my new habitat. It was the mud pit. The

large object which picked me up was the mud covered crotch of some twenty year

old girl who was enticing men by pacing her heads and arms back, and lifting her

 

pelvis into the air. If I had known her act, I would have known that another

girl was about to come and lick her naked flesh clean. But I didn't, so when I

saw two gigantic eyes, followed by a gigantic open mouth with a gigantic tongue

dropping out like a big red wall, I wasn't worried. Until that tongue pressed

down against me, rubbing me into the pelvis girl's pussy.

The next few moments were a blur of hot flesh, a huge tongue, and mud. But in

a few moments, the first girl came up for air, so she dropped her pelvis back

into the mud and placed me in darkness. Luckily, I was deep enough inside of her

that there was some air stuck from where the licking girl opened her vagina

completely. Seeing no escape and not wanting to be lost in the gigantic vat of

mud, I stayed where I was, snuggled up in her warm, pulsing flesh.

There has been research that cold turkey, warm milk, and a large meal put

people to sleep. I would like to add another item to that list. Being deep

inside the pussy of a stripper, frolicking in a giant vat of mud. I'm not sure

when, but I know I fell asleep somewhere in the middle of that girl's act. When

I woke up, I tried to gently climb out of the woman. As I moved, her inner

muscles moved too, letting out a little fluid. I guess I was being noticed after

all. But when I reached the top, some hard, flaky substance barred my way. Then,

I heard some mumbles of woman voices, which I could faintly understand.

"Jessica, isn't it bad to let that mud harden all over you? It must hurt your

skin."

"Yeah, Jess, you can give yourself mud cancer or something."

The body I was in responded, "No, girls. It feels good to peel this off of

your body. And mud cancer? Girl, you must be crazy. Now, could you give me a

little alone time? I think I'm gonna peel this mud off and go home."

I heard some footsteps, and then a door shut. Almost immediately, two

gigantic hands ripped the mud from her pelvis and plunged themselves deep into

her. I guess my rumblings had more on impact than I thought. The next few

minutes were spent in my choreographing a dance I like to call, "Bug Avoiding

Giant Hands of Death." When she finally came, the woman, Jessica, ripped the

rest of the mud off and hit the showers, with me tucked safely in the folds of

her vaginal lips. I didn't want to get stuck deep inside. Jessica might be

coming home to a horny husband/boyfriend/girlfriend, and I wanted to be able to

escape in a moments notice.

But it was while Jessica was lathering up that I realized something. Since I

was no longer with Barbara, there was no chance of me getting to Ali, so there

was no chance of finding a way to get my ring back from that slut Roberta. Thus,

I was going to be 1/4 of an inch tall for a very long time. Read: the rest of my

puny little existence.

I began to get very depressed as Jessica put on her clothes and headed out to

what I thought would be her car. Instead, little Jessica, whose face I had never

seen ( I thought her hair is brown though ) got onto a motorcycle. Not one of

those wussy little 'cycles that barely hum. This was a huge honking hog. As she

 

kick started it, the engine began to roar like a million earthquakes. I found

myself bouncing all through Jessica on her ride home, landing, finally, in a

sticky section of her panties.

It must have been past three AM when she finally reached her house. She was

tired as hell, so she went straight up a flight of stairs to her room, threw off

her clothes ( and me ) onto the floor, and hopped into bed. I landed with a thud

in a thankfully short carpet, and after a moment or two, began to hear Jessica

snoring.

I couldn't sleep. My recent discovery of my predicament gave me a case of

insomnia. Rather than staying in one place, I decided to wander Jessica's house

and get my bearings. Jessica slept alone, which meant either the man of the

house was out for the evening, or left many years ago. I left her room by

walking under the door, and saw the stairs and the downstairs foyer in front of

me. And to my left was another hallway with a few more rooms. What threw me was

that there was a chandelier in the foyer. Strippers must make more money than I

thought. Either that, or Jessica has a day job. Or is a day trader.

Deciding to walk until I couldn't help but sleeping, I began to trot down the

hallway, popping into the first door. By the luminance that a night-light gave,

I saw a room with pink carpets and walls. Must be a girls room. And I saw a bed

with big lace sheets that went all the way to the floor. By the small amount of

light I had, I recognized the face of the sleeping girl. It was Roberta. Spike's

girlfriend. The slut with my great-aunt's ring. I had to get it back.

So I began my climb of her bed, starting near the head of her bed. Sitting

there at home, you probably think that would be easy. You think that. But then

you should try climbing a 400 foot sheer cliff of white fabric. It wasn't easy.

I took breaks every twenty or so feet. It was nearly sunrise before I reached

the top of Roberta's sheets. By then, I was overcome with extreme exhaustion. I

curled up next to her long, red hair and began to sleep. I had found my cure for

insomnia and what I hoped to be my ticket back to normal.

When I woke up, it was daylight. The room was full of bright spring sun, and

I got up and yawned. Roberta was gone, but that was to be expected. It was

Tuesday, a school day. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed.

1:15 PM. Roberta would probably be home in a few hours. So I decided to search

for my ring. If all went well, I could find it, kiss it, and be out of Roberta's

house before my parents knew I was missing. First I threw off my clothes. They

were completely coated with mud, vaginal fluid, and god knows what else. Then, I

saw her dresser was right next to her bed. Above the dresser was a window with a

venetian blind. The cord from the blind hung down low enough that I could jump

up and climb on it to the top of the dresser. There, I saw her jewelry box. With

any luck, Roberta didn't wear it to school that day, and it would be in the box.

Glancing at the clock again, it read 3:20. I still had a few more moments until

Roberta would probably be home.

The box was a nice wooden one with a button to press which opened the lid.

 

After ramming it a few times with my body, the box popped open. I used the

fibers of the wood as handholds and slipped inside. Looking around I saw a few

necklaces, a few pairs of earrings, a few toe rings, Spike's class ring ( which

I promptly took a shit on ), but no heart ring. Damn, all that work for nothing.

I was about to climb back out of the box when I heard a door slam and two

very big feet run up the stairs. Roberta had to be home. I began to panic. I

climbed up to the top of the box and prayed Roberta wouldn't come towards it.

She opened the door to her room and threw her book bag to the floor. For the

girlfriend of my mortal enemy, she was hot! She stripped off the blouse and

skirt she was wearing and put them in her clothes hamper. She was naked

underneath. I couldn't help but stare at her. She would be my dream girl, if she

was a little less loose in the pants and a little more bright in the head.

Anyways, I noticed a familiar object on her left hand. It was my great-aunt's

ring! She hadn't lost it, thank God.

She was about to lie down on her bed, when she suddenly glanced at her

dresser. I hadn't thought that maybe she would realize her jewelry box was open.

Especially since it played a little tune when it was unlocked. As she began to

walk towards the dresser, I jumped into the box, hoping not to be seen. Roberta

walked up to the box, and bent over it, letting her gigantic breasts droop over

my face. She was looking at her face in the mirror on the lid of her box, I

guess. After a minute or two, she stood up again. She took off my ring and

dropped in into the box. Right on top of me.

The heart section hit me on the chest as it bounced on the felt bottom of the

box. Stupid me, I forgot to kiss it. Instead, I wobbled uneasily onto what I

thought was a pair of hoop earrings, which Roberta immediately took out of the

box. Still dazed, I hung on to the needle part of the earring as Roberta brought

it to her face. This wouldn't be too bad. I could hop into her ear, where her

wax would keep me relatively safe until I found a way to get back to my ring.

Instead, after unclasping the ring I was on, it was brought to her right

breast. It was a nipple ring. And at that moment, I felt an odd sensation come

over me as I shrunk again, this time to about 1/16 of an inch tall. I barely had

a chance to realize what happened when the needle I was on was pressed into

Roberta's large, erect nipple. When the moving stopped I was in the dark. That

could only mean one thing. I was inside of Roberta's nipple!!!

So there I was, a tiny speck of a man trapped in a nipple about ten times

larger than I was. Believe me, it's not as pleasant as you may think. Her

flesh inside of her nipple was lass than happy to have a tiny person

chaffing it, so Roberta constantly scratched and pressed her nipple,

squishing the world around me and putting me in very uncomfortable

positions. After a few minutes, I decided the best course of action was

none at all, so I laid down, not moving, on the cold metal of the nipple

ring needle.

However, that plan didn't work so well. I've already told you how Roberta

 

doesn't wear support for her more than ample bosom. Well, imagine the

feeling being inside those gigantic breasts as a 6400 foot tall 17 year

old hops down the stairs of her house. The ring and I began to bounce all

over the inside of Roberta, and I would have lost my lunch, if I had eaten

anything since Sunday evening. Instead, I let my body go limp and cleared

my mind as the enormous girl I was inside finally laid down on a couch and

popped on the television.

She was watching TRL on MTV and if the distinct voice of Carson Daly

hadn't tipped me off, the constant sound of Brittany Spears, Christina

Aguliera, and N'Sync would have told me in a heartbeat. I brought myself

up and felt for any bodily damages. Finding none, I was about to try and

take a quick nap when a glimmer of light caught my eye. At one end of

where the ring pierced the nipple, there was a small gap, probably created

when Roberta ran down the stairs. If I had been ¬ an inch tall, squeezing

through would have been impossible. I probably would have been inside of

Roberta's woman flesh to this day. But at my present size, It was merely a

tight squeeze.

So, during the course of a Backstreet Boys ballad, where I felt Roberta's

heartbeat quicken, I slipped out of the nipple and clung for dear life to

the ring. Finally, fresh air! While the area still smelled of Roberta, at

least I could see the outside world. To my surprise, there was no fabric

to keep me from looking around Roberta's living room. Looking down, I saw

that, if I had been trapped in a clit ring and just escaped, there would

also be no fabric to prevent my watching of MTV. Roberta was sitting on

what had to be a $1000 leather couch in the buff. With one hand holding a

phone to her ear while the other popped in and out of her slit. She was

talking to Spike, and setting up a date for later tonight.

The sight of a girl, over a mile and a half tall, pleasuring herself was,

in the least, and unforgettable event. If I hadn't already had more pussy

than I needed for seven lifetimes, I would have jumped down to join the

fray. However, I did not want to get lost in her cavernous cleft.

Especially when Spike would almost definitely be plugging that hole soon.

Spike! That bastard. If he was coming over, no part of Roberta's body was

safe. So I jumped off of Roberta's tit and, to my surprise, floated safely

to the couch below. Off in the corner of the room, on a table, I saw a

video-camera. From my experience in the schools audio-video club, I could

tell from this distance that it had a fresh battery and a tape inside. It

was pointed straight at the couch. This gave me an idea.

Spike is 19. He was held back in second grade for beating the snot out of

me when I was in kindergarten, and again in sixth grade when I was in

fifth. Roberta, like me, was a 18 year old junior. So, technically, any

sexual activity between them would be statutory rape. Spike would get 3 to

5 in a jail and would finally be out of my hair. Then, maybe, I could go

to school in peace.

So, with N'Sync and the moans of a horny high-schooler serving as my

soundtrack, I ran to the camera and, after about twenty minutes, I leaped

 

onto the table top. I climbed the gigantic machine, sat next to the record

button, and waited.

At about 6 PM, there was a knock at the door. I saw Roberta run off, still

naked ( she had been napping ), look through the peep hole, and let a

burly figure into her house. He obviously noticed she was naked, and,

without as much as a hello, began to take off his clothes. I turned on the

recorder. It was then that I began to laugh. Spike, the "macho man" who

had made my life a living hell ever since kindergarten, was hung like a

kindergartner. Erect, it couldn't be more than two and a half inches. And

that's being generous.

Spike shoved Roberta on the couch and violently opened her legs. She tried

to shut them.

"No, Spike. Not tonight. I was just going to get dressed. Maybe we could

go to a movie or something."

That's when Spike's 3 to 5 became a life without possibility of parole. He

took his right arm and smashed it against her face.

'What the fuck do you think you're trying to pull, you dick tease? You

call me over, all nice and horny, answer the door butt ass naked, and now

you're telling me no? What the fuck do you think I am?"

She began to cry.

"Roberta, fuck you. Don't think tears are going to help you. I know no one

will come. You're mom is off giving 60 year old dickheads something to

jack off to, and you're dad fucking ran off 12 years ago. So cry all you

want, cunt. No one will care."

Roberta started to weep. She tried to get up, but she was forced back down

to the couch. After a few more blows to the head, she went silent. Then

Spike opened her legs and began to pump in and out. After about three

minutes he was done. He got a blanket from next to the couch and covered

her shaking, sobbing body. He bent over her and spoke, "Who the fuck will

believe you, cunt?" He then dressed and left.

Thins began to make sense why Roberta always seemed ditzy and out of it.

Her mind was elsewhere. But Spike, there was no excuse for him. After a

few minutes, Roberta's sobs died down and she was asleep. Using a pad of

paper on the table and a broken off piece of lead, I began to write a

message for Jessica. Using all the strength my tiny body had, I finally

scribbled:

To Roberta's Mom.

Please watch this. Do not blame Roberta. Call the police.

-Anonymous

Nearly dead from exhaustion, I still had one more task to do. I jumped

back on to the couch, landing on Roberta's covered form. I walked up to

her face, blooded and black and blue. No wonder she wears so mush make-up.

I crawled into her ear and, in my most pleasant, sincere voice, repeated,

"It's OK. It's not you're fault. Everything will be OK."

At about 3 AM, I saw Jessica come into the house. She saw Roberta on the

couch, and bent over her to kiss her on the cheek. By then it was to dark

to see the wounds without light. I grabbed onto Jessica's hair as she bent

over to kiss, and scrambled to her ear. I began to chant, "Camcorder!!!

Camcorder!!!" over and over again. Finally, after getting a glass of milk

from the kitchen, Jessica went back to the living room and saw the note.

 

She picked it up and read it. Curious, she took the tape and put it into

the VCR. As she watched it, she began to cry.

Roberta must have been woken by the sobs, and was aghast to see Spike

raping her on her own TV. Jessica turned to her daughter, saw the blood on

her face, and hugged her. During the embrace, I jumped back to Roberta and

crawled back into her ear. I heard Jessica call the police. I heard

Roberta put on some sweat pants and go to the police office. I heard the

questioning, the sobs from the two women. I felt Roberta shiver as a semen

sample was taken. I heard Roberta's heart shiver when she saw Spike

brought in for questioning. I heard her gasp a sigh of relief when Spike

was put in handcuffs. And finally, I heard as a police officer told her

that she had done good. The tape and the semen match would make for an

instant conviction.

At that point, I began to whisper, "Everything is all right," until I fell

asleep.

I guess mother and daughter didn't get home until about 7 AM. Roberta

didn't go to school that day. Jessica stayed home and consoled her

daughter. I, happy that my subliminal suggestions had worked before, began

to chant, "Jewelry box. Jewelry box." After about an hour or two of this,

she went to her room and opened the box. It was then that I saw the ring.

I jumped from Roberta's ear into the box and gave it one good kiss. Then,

to my horror, I saw Roberta pick up the ring.

"This is Sonny's ring," she said to herself. "Spike stole it from him.

I'll give it to Ali. She'll return it."

With that, she shut the box. I felt my body expand a little, but, judging

from what happened before, I was probably ¬ an inch tall again. With no

way out of the gigantic box.

I was in there for a good two days. It was hell. There was no one to talk

to, little light, and nothing to do. The only thing that kept me going was

hearing the voice of Roberta. I could tell from the snippets of dialogue

between Jessica and Roberta that Roberta was going back to school on

Friday. Thursday night, I devised a plan. Seeing as she was just raped, I

doubted that Roberta would look to kindly on a tiny peeping tom. But I had

to get to Ali when Roberta gave her my ring. So, I found a nice looking

ring which I hoped Roberta would wear and snuck on to it.

The next morning, Roberta showered, dried off, then came to the jewelry

box. She opened the lid and, for the first time in 48 hours, I had light.

Her face looked better. Most the wounds were covered in make-up, but there

still was a small cut on her lip. She put on a pair of earrings. She put

on a few rings, but not the one I was on. And just as I prepared myself

for another 24 hours of darkness, the ring I was on was picked up. From

the palm of her hand, I saw Roberta sit on the ground with her legs

spread, with one foot brought in. She then took the ring I was on and

shoved it snugly onto her second toe. I was pressed between the silvery

metal and her gigantic toe. She then stood up, put on a bra, panties, a

white shirt, and a pair of old jeans. I guess she only dressed slutty for

Spike. Then came a pair of white, lacy socks, which threw me into

 

darkness. Next was probably a pair of running shoes.

The heat began to build. I was trapped on Roberta's foot. There was almost

no way I could get my ring when Roberta gave in to Ali. How often does a

girl take off her shoes at school? Really, it's not that probable. The

night before, I thought I might get home before Saturday morning cartoons.

Now I began to seriously doubt my chances. Roberta almost never talked to

Ali. The only time they would meet would be in the returning of my ring. I

now would definitely have to navigate my way through a school the size of

a small state.

Depressed yet again, I prepared for a day inside of Roberta's shoe. If

only I had known how torturous that would be, I would have rather have

stayed in Roberta's jewelry box.

You are all going to hate me. Yes, I know Roberta was just raped three

days ago. Yes, I know she was very vulnerable. But when the fumes of a

gigantic foot combine with being bound to a toe by a huge piece of metal,

while sweat is pouring from your body and a house sized foot, things begin

to rub. And get hard. And.OK, I admit it. While Roberta was driving to

school, I orgasmed on her toe. I tried not to. Really, I did.

I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about it. I mean, she'll never know. I

doubt she could even see it if she tried. But, I guess I feel like I

violated her. Over the last few days, I've kinda felt like her protector.

I used to look down on her, but now I see her in a completely new light.

She's more human to me. I think I'll try and be friends, if I ever was

normal sized again.

But first things first, I had to get off of her toe and to a place where I

could try and contact Ali. Now, when a toe is heated, plus has all the

moisture from the sweat, it wrinkles a little bit. Roberta's toe was no

exception. And, when metal is heated, it expands as well. Roberta's toe

ring was no exception to that as well. So, in the middle of her morning

drive, I was able to slide out from under the toe ring.

However, being under a sock and a tennis shoe makes light non existent, so

it took me a while to figure out which direction I should climb to get to

her ankle. Lucky for me, the fabrics of her sock were easily used as

handholds, and, by the time Roberta parked her car, I was able to be

situated about halfway to the end of her sock. Now I was able to see

through the sock and view the outside world. At an ankle point of view.

The first thing I saw was a familiar pair of Birkenstocks. Looking up

further, I saw a pair of short Jean shorts, followed by a tanktop,

finished by a flowing mane of red hair. Ali!

I heard Roberta begin the conversation awkwardly, then saw her hand a

metal object to Ali. It ended with Ali promising to call Roberta sometime.

Her dad is on the police force, so I assume Ali found out about Roberta

and wants to help out. See, even Ali's and my charitable deeds are

similar.

But then, as I was drinking in the pseudo "reunion," Ali walked off and

Roberta headed to first period. After I got beaten up by Spike, I usually

saw Roberta head off to Mr. Beakman's Calculus class. Or, as everyone

calls it, "Beakman's World of Boring." The man would rant and rave about

 

things that had no relevance to the topic at hand. We would start talking

about integrals, and a few minutes later he's telling us how you can tell

if a hanging victim committed suicide or was murdered. And he had this

annoying monotone voice.arggh..

To make a long story short, I had about an hour of time to try and make my

way out of Roberta's sock. I knew for a fact that she had Beakman 7th

period. It was for that class that Ali was in school Monday, even though

she was very, very sick. But, I guess I should thank Mr. Beakman. If that

test wasn't scheduled, I never would have seen the depths of

Ali's.uh.personality.

So I climbed out of the sock about five minutes into the lecture. The seat

that Ali sat in was about two chairs to the right and five chairs forward,

so I had all school day to go that far. I hopped off of Roberta's foot and

landed on the tile floor. Dusting myself off, I began my trek. I had to

walk basically seven blocks, with gigantic buildings entering and exiting

the room about every 45 minutes. I made it to two chairs to the right of

Roberta when the first bell rang. Then, a noise unmatched by any I'd heard

before began as skyscraper sized boys and girls violently shoved there

stuff from under their desks while another group shoved their stuff in the

same space.

I was almost stepped on by a gigantic Ked. It was right over me and I

jumped and balled myself up, expecting to die in the next couple of

seconds. Instead, I was stuck between the tread, unharmed except for the

jump it gave my heart. However, what I landed on was a stick of gum, Juicy

fruit, I think. And right when I was about to step of, it was picked up by

a feminine hand bigger than a football field. I saw a girl I knew, Karen,

sitting in Ali's 7th period seat, motioning to the girl whose gum I was

now standing on. The girl nodded, and prepared to throw the gum at Karen.

Seeing what was coming, I quickly hid inside the foil wrapper as it was

chucked about five city blocks to the open hand of Karen. And before I

could escape, the gum was unwrapped and popped, with me, into Karen's

waiting maw. How I survived the next ten minutes of violent chewing was

beyond my. After the flavor was gone and Karen stopped chewing, I thought

I could relax. I was wrong. The second I sat down on her tongue to rest,

Karen began to maneuver the gum to the front of her mouth, sticking me

onto the gigantic ball of gum. She opened her mouth and I saw a giant

outstretched palm, which I was soon spit at it at incredible speeds. Karen

then rubbed the gum into a perfect ball, thus giving me a full body

massage, before sticking the gum, with me at the bottom, onto the

underside of her desk.

I was rendered completely immobile. But I thrashed anyhow, trying to

escape my sweet gummy prison. About fifty feet below me were Karen's

thighs, encased in a pair of mesh shorts. But in a few minutes, they were

gone, followed by another pair of lovely female legs. This continued for a

while, except for the time of rest during luck, between forth and fifth

period, where I got basically unstuck.

 

During sixth, a girl wearing a pair of shorts sat down and unbuttoned her

shorts. Then, the zipper came down. Then, her hand slipped down under her

lace panties and began to pump in and out. I was entranced for the rest of

that class period, but was too close to finding Ali to risk it by jumping

into the pussy of some girl I didn't even know.

Finally, that sweet seduction ended and the girl left. I still have no

idea who it was. The seventh period bell rang and the next crop of

students came into the room. Except Ali. She was nowhere to be seen. I

began to panic. What if she tried the ring by accident? What if she's dead

in the halls, a pulpy red mess? What if she just skipped class? Today was

Friday, could I bear another 72 hours in this classroom?

Luckily I didn't need to worry. About five minutes into class, the door

opened. I heard Ali apologizing, saying she had run into Roberta in the

halls and had to talk to her. Damn, I could have just stayed with Roberta

and saved myself from two near death experiences.

Anywho, Ali sat down in her desk and I jumped down onto her left thigh. I

guess she didn't notice, so I climbed onto her Jean shorts and began to

think. Where would be the safest place for me to be until she gets home?

Not her pussy, I could get lost in there. Not her pockets, because she

might wash them before I have a chance to escape. So I decided to climb up

her stomach and hide in her belly button, where I fell asleep. It had been

a long week, and I was glad it was almost over.

I didn't wake up until Ali slammed the door to her room and jumped onto

her bed, back to the mattress. Seeing my chance, I began to run up Ali's

torso, between her marvelous breasts, up her chin, and onto her nose,

where I began to wave frantically.

Ali jerked her head up and I tumbled down her shirt to her left breast.

Undaunted, I ran up again, this time headed for her left ear. Taking in a

huge breath, I screamed, "ALI!!!!! IT"S ME!!!!! SONNY!!!!"

She jerked her head up again and I bounced against the inside of her ear.

After a few more attempts, I was able to convey to her that I was shrunk

and inside of her ear. She hopped over to her desk and pulled out her

microscope. She then put her finger to her ear, then her finger under the

microscope. I waved with one hand as the other hid my nudity. I had almost

forgotten that for the last five days I'd been naked in public. In a way,

I was glad to have my sense of shame back. I felt normal already.

After a few minutes of charades, I told Ali to get the ring Roberta gave

her. She put it on her desk and I walked up to it. I then kissed the

stupid piece of metal that had shrunk me. I kissed it like it was Pamela

Anderson. I think I even gave it a little tongue.

In a matter of moments, I was a full 5'7", sitting naked on Ali's desk.

She grabbed me some of her father's jeans and an undershirt and I began to

recount my life since the beginning of Spring Break, leaving out my

experience with her in the clinic on Monday. When I was done, she let out

a sigh.

"Geez, Sonny. You've had quite a time the last couple of days. But what

are you going to tell your parents?"

"I figure I'll tell them I went soul searching in the Appalachian

Mountains. They'll call the school and tell the office that my absence was

excused. Then they'll tell me how I'm beginning to remind them of

themselves at my age."

"Creepy. Also, I was wondering who got Spike busted. I thought that

Roberta set up the tape and just didn't want her mom to know."

"Nope, that was me all right."

"And Nurse Barbara really dances at the "Pussy Cat Scratch?"

"Yup, you can just ask Roberta's mom."

"Man.There's one more thing I didn't quite understand. You said you were

in the clinic when you first shrunk. Were you on a cot?"

She was beginning to catch on, so I decided to tell her the truth.

"Yeah."

"But there's only one cot in the clinic."

"Yup."

"So you saw me."

"Actually, you scooped me up and had me participate."

"You're kidding."

"Do I smell like I'm kidding?" I hadn't showered in a week, and the smells

of various women still lingered on me.

"Well," she said with a grin. "How was I?"

I couldn't believe it. She was coming on to me.

"Whatever do you mean, Alison?"

"Come on Sonny. I've had a crush on you ever since Spike pounded you in

kindergarten. You don't need to pretend modesty with me."

I gulped.

"Well, I can't say I didn't enjoy it, but, you know, I'm still technically

a virgin."

"Well, so am I. Would you like to change that?"

I gulped. She locked her bedroom door.

"My dad is off looking for you. You're parents put out a Missing Person's

Bulletin. My mom is putting up signs." She said.

"So, we're alone."

"Uh-huh."

"And you're asking me to sleep with you?"

"I'm simply asking you to finish what you started Monday. I thought I felt

something else in there."

I think you can guess where it went from there. Ali's now my girlfriend.

I'm having the best senior year ever. Roberta is now one of Ali and my

best friends. My parents are still asking me if I saw a deer in the

mountains. Spike has served one year of his forty year sentence. And, in a

couple years, I'm gonna visit Nurse Barbara at the "Pussy Cat Scratch."

So, I guess things worked out OK.

Oh, and one more thing. Ali loves the ring. I come over at least once a

week to "see if it still works," if you catch my drift. And maybe we'll

tell Roberta someday. I tell you, I'm really starting to love my life.

Everyone should take my late great-aunt's advice. We all need to save time

to "get away."

End.

 

 

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