Tiny Little Mikey

The "ground" shook underneath you as the twin mountains hanging off of Heather's chest slammed into the mattress. The impact rippled upward through her colossal tits, a sight that was as sickening as it was entrancing. You weren't disgusted by it—quite the opposite! At your scale, however, those gargantuan breasts looked less like anatomy and more like geography and parts of the landscape, especially parts as big as those, simply weren't meant to move like that. Fear, deep and primal, welled in your chest as your eyes followed the gorge of her cleavage up to her towering neck and kept going, all the way up to her soft lips. Watching them curl into a smile made your blood run cold and the look in her eyes froze you with fear. Her voice boomed like thunder.

"What's the matter, little one? I thought this is what you wanted!"

It had been, at least a few weeks ago. Your girlfriend had always been busty, one of the many reasons that you were attracted to her in the first place. Greed, however, got the better of you. You found a way to give some of your height—just a little!—to make her bust bigger. You figured an inch or two would be barely noticeable and the effects would be impressive and, seeing her grow with the first inch, you were right. An inch became two. The sight of your girlfriend bulging out of her bra made you dizzy with arousal. Two inches became three. She started having to constantly adjust her overworked bra, making her tits wobble in a way that consumed you. Three inches became four. Your eye-level was closer to her bust than ever which made it all the easier to appreciate the way she bulged out of her shirts in the new bras she was forced to buy. Four inches became five. Her breasts had grown so big as to distract you completely from her stories of unwanted attention and from the suspicious look in her eye as she scanned up and down your height. As five inches became six, you did your best to reassure her that it was just a late growth spurt, that she'd learn to love them. You certainly did. You couldn't keep your hands, shrunk smaller as her breasts grew even bigger, off of them.

But that was all when you were still several feet tall. Now you were barely a few inches and your little legs could only carry you so far as her car-sized hand reached down and plucked you off of the bed. Waking up from your nap to the room looming over had been disorienting, but that feeling paled in comparison to the rush of the wind around you as you were whisked through the air up to meet your girlfriend's towering face. Far below you, her breasts still look enormous, but you can barely look at them when her lips are so close and her breath is so warm. She tries to whisper, but at your size and at this distance, you still wince.

"Someone got a little greedy, didn't they? I noticed at the first inch, but I wanted to see how far you would go. When it became obvious that you wouldn't stop, I simply decided to speed up the process! You left the connection open, so all I had to do was pull. I'll be honest, when you first started forcing me to grow, I was not having a good time. I barely wanted to be the size I was before and you made me even bigger! I figured this was the only way to end it! I'm not sure how many inches you have left to spare! Now that I'm here, though..."

Heather bit her lip and shimmied her shoulders. Down below, waves moved across the ocean of tit underneath you. "I don't mind so much. But, don't worry, I'll make sure you get to truly experience these 'gifts' you gave me."

Her face moves away from you as she lowers you down, down, down towards her massive bust. Before you knew it, the walls of her cleavage were rising on either side of you, her fingertip pushing you deeper. "Are they big enough for you yet? I can always make them a little bigger for you, but I'm not really sure what that would do to you. I guess we can find out. Together."

"Oh, you think I can't tell? I could feel your jealousy the moment you laid eyes on me. That burning envy is what drew me to you in the first place, cutie. I know how badly you want tits like these, tits like mine. You're just seething with it, aren't you? It's okay, cutie! You can admit it! If you don't admit to being jealous of my huge, bouncy, shirt-destroying udders, then I won't be able to thank you properly!

"Of course, I'd want to thank you, silly! It's your jealousy that's made my boobs grow so much bigger! This shirt fit when I came in. Well, mostly fit, anyway. Go ahead, take a look. Take a big, long look at my colossal udders. It won't be rude! I want you to look! I want you to—

The summer house was quiet except for the distant hum of the lake and the occasional creak of old floorboards. Their parents had left for Europe three days ago, handing the keys and the “responsibility” speech to twenty-two-year-old Ethan. At 6’1”, he was the obvious choice to keep an eye on his nineteen-year-old stepsister, Sarah. She was barely 4’10” in her bare feet, a tiny firecracker with a wicked smile and a body that had started turning heads the moment she hit puberty. Ethan had always been protective—maybe a little too protective. Sarah was done being babied.

She’d found the SizeExchanger online two weeks earlier: a sleek black wristband disguised as a smartwatch, sold on some shady fetish forum with a single warning—*irreversible once activated*. Two grand and overnight shipping later, it arrived in a plain box while Ethan was at the gym. Sarah read the instructions once, twice, then practiced the gesture in front of her mirror until her hands stopped shaking with excitement.

On the fourth night, she waited until Ethan was asleep on the couch in front of the TV, long legs sprawled, one arm dangling. She crept downstairs in nothing but an oversized sleep shirt, heart hammering. The device glowed softly as she synced it to both of them. She typed in the numbers she’d fantasized about for months: transfer two full feet. From him to her. Permanent.

A soft chime. A ripple of warmth. Ethan stirred, mumbled something, then settled again. Sarah felt it immediately—like champagne fizzing through her bones. She grew so fast her shirt rode up her thighs, then her hips, then her waist. The hem that once brushed mid-thigh now barely covered the swell of her ass. Her breasts pushed forward, heavy and round, stretching the thin fabric until the neckline plunged between them. By the time the glow faded she had to duck under the ceiling fan.

6’10”. She towered.

Ethan looked… small. Pathetic, almost. Still 6’1” in his dreams, but now he was only 4’1” on the couch, his broad shoulders now narrow, his once-powerful arms slender. His boxers hung loose on narrow hips. Sarah’s lips curved into a slow, hungry smile.

She didn’t wake him right away. Instead she went upstairs, raided her closet, and changed. The fuzzy gray cardigan she’d bought on a whim—soft, open, and way too big for her old height—now hugged her like it had been tailored for a goddess. Beneath it she wore the tight white knit bralette that barely contained her new, impossibly full tits. The matching gray terry shorts clung to the dramatic flare of her hips and the long, powerful thighs that could crush a man between them. She left the drawstring untied so the waistband sat low, teasing the smooth skin just above her pussy.

When she came back down, Ethan was just starting to wake, rubbing his eyes. He blinked up at the giantess standing over him and froze.

“Sarah…?” His voice cracked, higher than usual.

She bent at the waist, hands on her knees, letting the cardigan fall open so her massive cleavage hung like twin moons right in front of his face. The scent of her skin—warm vanilla and something darker—washed over him.

“Hey, big stepbrother,” she purred, voice low and velvet. “Or should I say… little stepbrother now.”

Ethan tried to scramble back, but she simply planted one bare foot on the couch beside him, the soft sole bigger than his entire torso. The heat radiating from her leg made his cock twitch traitorously inside his suddenly enormous boxers.

“You’re in charge this summer, right?” She laughed, a rich, throaty sound. “Well, I just changed the chain of command. You’re going to serve me. And you’re going to love it.”

She didn’t give him time to argue. One huge hand scooped him up under the arms like a doll. Ethan yelped as his feet left the floor, dangling helplessly while she carried him upstairs to her bedroom. She dropped him onto the center of her bed—now a vast plain of white sheets—and stood at the foot of it, hands on her hips.

“Strip,” she ordered.

He hesitated. She arched one perfect eyebrow and slowly peeled the cardigan open, letting it slide down her arms and pool on the floor. The white bralette strained; the soft terry shorts rode up the underside of her ass. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down inch by inch, revealing the smooth, shaved mound of her pussy, already glistening.

“I said strip, tiny.”

Ethan’s hands shook as he shoved his boxers off. His cock—still proportionally large for his new size but ridiculously small compared to her—sprang free, rock-hard and leaking. Sarah licked her lips.

“Good boy.”

She climbed onto the bed on all fours, the mattress dipping dramatically under her weight. Ethan was forced to grab the sheets to keep from rolling toward her. She crawled over him until her breasts hung like warm, heavy pendulums above his chest, nipples stiff and dark against the white fabric.

“First order of service,” she whispered, lowering herself until one thick nipple brushed his lips. “Suck.”

He opened his mouth and latched on. The taste of her skin, the sheer size of the breast filling his face—it was overwhelming. Sarah moaned, deep and satisfied, and reached down to wrap her fingers around his entire cock and balls in one hand. She stroked slowly, possessively, while he nursed.

After a few minutes she pulled back, strings of saliva connecting her nipple to his mouth. “On your back. Arms out.”

Ethan obeyed instantly. Sarah swung one long leg over him and settled her dripping pussy directly over his face. The heat and scent were intoxicating. She didn’t lower herself gently—she dropped, smothering him beneath soft, swollen lips and the slick heat of her folds.

“Lick, little stepbrother. Make your giant stepsister cum.”

He licked like a man possessed, tongue working her clit, sliding inside her, tasting every drop. Sarah ground down, riding his face with slow, powerful rolls of her hips. Her huge thighs framed his head; her ass smothered his chest. When she came the first time, her juices flooded his mouth and chin, and she let out a long, shuddering groan that vibrated through both of them.

She didn’t stop. She simply lifted off, turned around, and lowered herself again—this time facing his cock. Her mouth—hot, wet, and huge—engulfed him completely. One slow suck and his hips jerked helplessly. She could fit his entire length and still swirl her tongue around his balls. While she sucked him, she reached back and spread her ass cheeks, pressing her still-wet pussy against his face again.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours—69ing with her completely in control, using his body as her personal toy. When she finally pulled off his cock with a wet pop, strings of spit and precum connected her lips to his throbbing shaft.

“Time to fuck your owner,” she said, voice husky.

She spun around, straddled his hips, and guided his cock to her entrance. Even though he was smaller now, the angle and her arousal made the stretch delicious. Sarah sank down in one smooth motion, taking every inch until her clit ground against his pelvis. She was so tall that when she sat upright, her head nearly brushed the ceiling fan again. Ethan stared up at the towering goddess riding him—breasts bouncing, cardigan long forgotten, nipples hard, lips parted in ecstasy.

She rode him hard. The bed creaked dangerously. Each downward thrust slammed her weight into him, pinning him to the mattress. Her pussy clenched and fluttered around his cock, milking him.

“You’re going to cum inside me when I say,” she panted. “And then you’re going to clean every drop out with that eager little tongue.”

Ethan groaned against her thigh, nodding frantically. Sarah smiled down at him, eyes half-lidded with lust and power.

“That’s my good little servant.”

She slammed down one final time, grinding her clit against him as her second orgasm ripped through her. Her walls pulsed so hard he couldn’t hold back. He came with a strangled cry, pumping rope after rope deep inside his giant stepsister while she kept riding through both their orgasms.

When she finally lifted off, a thick trickle of their mixed cum leaked from her puffy folds and onto his stomach. Sarah looked down at the mess, then at his exhausted, blissed-out face.

She leaned down, breasts dragging across his chest, and kissed his forehead almost tenderly.

“Summer’s just getting started, tiny,” she whispered. “And I’ve got a whole list of ways I want to be served.”

She straightened up, still straddling him, and ran her fingers through her hair, looking every inch the 6’10” goddess who now owned her 4’1” stepbrother completely.

“Round two in the shower. You’re washing every inch of me. With your tongue.”

Ethan’s spent cock twitched again at the command.

"Well, well, well, look who thought they could take my growth pills to get an edge up on me. I guess you didn't read the bottle properly, since the warning CLEARLY states it has the opposite effect on men. Oh well, be that as it may this changes nothing, whether you're 5 feet tall or 5 inches tall, these are getting full, and mommy needs a draining. Time to go to work, little man."

"Jeez, calm down! It's just a prank, dude! Come on, you know, April Fools? Really? Nothing? You gotta admit that it's at least a little funny, right? I mean, you're, like, half your old height and my boobs are fucking enormous! Look at these mega milkers! Have you ever seen boobs this big before?! They've turned this sweater into a crop top and none of my old bras could even hold one of these things, let alone both! Fuck, they probably look even bigger to you, huh? Since you're so much smaller..."

Genies are known for twisting wishes, but when it came to Hannah's, there was no need to such trickery. The nearly seven-foot-tall but woefully flat chested woman made a wish to trade her height for bigger boobs and the Genie was more than happy to grant it. The button it created easily fit in the palm of her hand and it worked exactly as advertised: each press would steal 10% of her height and move that mass into her bust. There were no hidden drawbacks, no secret side effects. The wish alone was more than enough.

When Hannah pushed the button for the first time, her bedroom shifted around her. From her perspective, it felt like everything was growing and the ground was getting closer, but the reality was that, in an instant, she had shrunk eight inches. She couldn't look down at the top of her dresser in the same way and the top of the door frame pulled away from her. It was disorienting, but her focus was pulled away as, a moment later, her baggy t-shirt grew fuller. The fabric that once draped loosely over her chest now draped over a pair of breasts that were easily pushing F-cups, an open canopy underneath them. It was rare for Hannah to wear a bra, never really needing it, and now she could feel why some people did. They were heavy and every little movement, even the pounding of her own heart, seemed to make them move. A shaky hand gave one of them an experimental poke, a jolt of stimulation shooting down through her body.

A giddy smile broke out on Hannah's face, so giddy, in fact, that she pushed the button again. In a matter of minutes, her imposing stature had been cut down to a much more reasonable height, now only five and a half feet tall. It was a little embarrassing to feel her narrower hips lose the battle to her shorts, feeling them slide down her legs, but it was vastly outweighed by the awe she felt staring down at her bust. She lifted her shirt above her head, baring her breasts for the first time. Together, they dominated her torso, completely covering her rib cage. Even the bustiest cheerleader than Hannah had ever seen didn't come anywhere near this size. They were fat and heavy and full and they pulled down on her shoulders in an unfamiliar yet exciting way. She could feel the cool air on her nipples and watched, enraptured, as they started to stiffen, each one as thick around as her pinky finger. They were, in short, huge. What Hannah hadn't prepared herself for, and what the Genie wouldn't tell her, was that making her smaller wouldn't just make her breasts bigger, but it would make them seem even more gargantuan against her shrinking height.

After a few hours of lying in bed (which now felt so much larger) and kneading her massive tits, arousal was starting to get the better of her. Her tits felt good and they looked even better. Hannah bit her lip as she eyed the button on her nightstand. One more couldn't hurt, could it? Another hit officially brought her just under five feet tall, but she bellowed out a moan as her breasts expanded in her hands, bulging out of her grip and overwhelming her figure. Hannah's orgasm hit her hard and fast, wracking her tiny body and making her arch her back, feeling the heft of her swollen breasts. After taking a few moments to catch her breath, she rolled over onto her side, exhausted, feeling her breasts take up a huge swathe of the bed as they rested on top of each other.

It wasn't until the next morning that Hannah could really come to terms with what she had done to herself. She had to hop down off the bed, having lost nearly two feet in height, and when she did, the weight of her breasts nearly toppled her over. At least being shorter lowered her center of gravity, but her gargantuan tits didn't do much to help. They hung heavy and full, now too large to even consider assigning a cup size to them. She could barely believe it, unsure where to look, her attention drawn to the dresser that now outsized her by a few good inches or down at her own enormous breasts. God, they were so big. Hannah glanced back at where she had left the button on her nightstand and felt her heart thump. They were big... but they could be bigger. It took her longer to cross the room than it used to, carried on much shorter legs, but that just gave her time to reason with herself. It only took 10%, right? So that meant that the amount it would take was smaller each time. She lost eight inches with the first button press, but less and less with each one. This next press, she might only lose a few inches, right? And what's a few inches at the cost of making her already colossal breasts even bigger?

Hannah was always going to press the button again, but now she had accepted it and pushed it eagerly. The surge of adrenaline and arousal as her height diminished and her bust increased even pushed her to press it another time, right away! It was so easy to get caught up in the excitement of it all. Hannah's height plummeted losing almost a full foot altogether, leaving her at a fraction of an inch below four feet. As they always did, her breasts swelled, this time getting so heavy and extending so far in front of her that gravity finally won out! She staggered forward and tipped, landing on her bust! The soft cushion was much more welcome than the hard floor, but the sudden impact made her push the button yet again!

Immediately, the breasts underneath Hannah swelled outwards, lifting her shrunken body up off the ground. Her breasts would be humongous on a normal person, but compared to how small the rest of her had become, they were truly, truly enormous. She had to rock forwards and back to return her feet to the floor, but being only a little over three and a half feet tall meant that almost half of her body weight was now in her tits. And she had always been tall, but never particularly strong. Hannah struggled, trying to lift the breasts that pinned her to the floor, but all she could do was drag them, which sent frustrating but inevitable waves of arousal through her body. Punching the button in frustration might be a way to relieve stress, but there's functionally little difference between that and pressing it. Hannah yelped as she shrank yet again, now hopelessly trapped by her breasts. She flailed her little arms and kicked her legs, her furniture now towering above her in her humongous room. Curses flew from her lips as she swore at the Genie, declaring that it must have tricked her or made the button addictive, but deep down she knew that it was her own greed (and a few unlucky accidents) that had led to this moment. That greed was now awakening once again, as the fury mingled with the simmering arousal that had been building since she first landed on her breasts.

The curse started out just as a way to tease you. You got so cute when you were flustered and the ability to steal a bit of your height whenever your eyes lingered on her bust made it even easier for her to fluster you, arching her back as they swelled bigger. She could tell when a glance lasted a bit too long as she felt her shirt and her bra get tight, which added even more fun to the mix.

As she got bigger, though, adding cup sizes and draining away your height, she made two realizations:

You got cuter and easier to fluster as you got smaller; and

the bigger she grew, the harder it was for you to look away.

Excitement and arousal coursed through her as she grew bigger and you shrank smaller. Pleasure acted as positive reinforcement, encouraging her to push it further and further. She started intentionally wearing her old bras, loving the way her growing breasts bulged out of the cups and underneath the band. Her wardrobe shifted, making sure to show off her boobs whenever possible, knowing that you'd find her swelling tits irresistible with just a hint of cleavage.

Her new tactics worked. Showing off her boobs made it so much easier for you to gawk at them, which, in turn, stole inch after inch of your height to make them even larger. Going without a bra made it even worse, their constant wobbling and their obscene outline through her clothes an irresistible draw. Your shifting perspective didn't help you, either, as they seemed even smaller from your diminishing point of view.

"Whatever. So, I've got a little paunch. I'm still young. I'll burn it off eventually."

Really? Let's see what happens to this 'little paunch' if you keep up your three cones a day habit.

*magic poke*

*GLOOSH! POP!*

The muffled screams from my panty-filled mouth went unheard by my girlfriend at the end of Andrea's line. Hope faded as Andrea clicked her phone off, popped it down, and went back to jerking me off.

Jiggle jerking. At high speed. With me tied up by her bras and pantyhose, pants down, and quickly heading towards my third pop since she got the jump on me at their apartment.

"Oh, my God... I was just joking, but... You actually want to make me bigger, don't you? Ah! No! Don't deny it! You're so obvious! You won't even look at me and, seriously, if you blush and deeper, your cheeks are going to bruise! Jeez, how did I not know I was engaged to such a boob freak? I should have guessed when you blew up my little B cups into these gigantic tits, but you seriously want more?

"Babe, I'm already struggling with these. You know how hard it is to find bras that fit? Any bigger than I am right now and I'll have to convince someone that I'm not pulling a prank when I custom order, that I really am that big! And my shirts are either circus tents draped over these things or my boobs make them obscenely tight! Even when I stuff them in two sports bras, they still bounce like crazy! I can't walk down the street without everyone gawking at me and staring at me. God, and even with a bra supporting them, they're so fucking heavy!

"...Holy shit, you don't just want me bigger, you fucking like seeing me struggle! That's what it is! You want my plumped up milkers to be heavy and full and obvious. You want my megamonster, ultra juicy jigglers bursting out of everything I wear. I bet you even want my gargantuan tits to be sloshing with milk, too! I bet you'd fucking love it if I had to spend hours a day milking my big, fat, sloshing, bouncing, shirtstretching udders. You're really going to my super duper hyper God damn fucking tits so fucking big that they bump into everyone and everything, so stuffed up and full of cream that I have no choice but to rest them on countertops and tables just to give my shoulders a break! Fuck me, you really are a titty-obsessed freak!

"Wow, maybe I overdid it a little *giggle*. You're barely the size of my pinky nail."

Her voice boomed around you with a thunderous crack as she held you up between 2 fingers. The previous 12-hours had been a blur; last night you went out to a local bar to have a good time, and saw this petite little thing in the corner. You chatted her up and next thing you knew, you were at her place, lifting her up against the wall doing what you did best. Then this morning, you awoke in foreign landscape with furniture the size of skyscrapers around you. You heard a giggle and looked up, to see the girl you had been with before, looking down on you from a mile high, only something was different about her, last night, she was maybe pushing a B-cup, where this morning she was packing more sweater meat than a butcher shop.

She reached down one monolithic hand and plucked you up with 2 fingers, gazing deeply at you, a chilling grin on her face.

"Sorry for the rude awakening, as you see I've taken a bit of your mass, I didn't think you'd mind, it looks so much better on me than you, don't you think?"

As she spoke those words, her other hand cupped one meteoric tit and lifted it, sending waves of sloshing flesh through her chest, from your size it rivaled the churning of a mighty ocean.