Breast Man by Lobo De la Sombra

[Gromet]

Solo-M; F/m; voy; breasts; witch; majick; shrink; naked; chain; giantess; display; tease; torment; revenge; cons/reluct; X

"You, Sir, are a pig."

Ben Greene grinned. At the ripe age of thirty, he'd heard it all, many times over. Women who displayed their most obvious charms, and then insulted him for expressing an honest appreciation for those charms.

Ben, by his own admission, was a breast man. He loved the way a woman's breasts moved, especially the big ones. Of course, there were some who said he made his love known far too directly, his obvious stares and crude remarks being deemed offensive by many women. Not that he cared. He could accept the worst of insults from women who, for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom, found his actions offensive.

Now, still grinning, he asked, "What's wrong? Ashamed of them?"

Selma Morris glanced down at her chest. Her breasts were a bit large for her frame, but not by too much, at least not in her eyes. "Of course not," she replied, glancing back up.

"Then why does it bother you if I look?" Ben pointedly turned his attention to the valley between her breasts, at least the part exposed by the neckline of her blouse. "If you don't want them looked at, maybe you should cover them better."

"And maybe," Selma replied, turning away, "you need to be taught some manners." With that, she strode off, an angry sway to her hips that Ben couldn't help but admire. Shaking his head, he turned away, the confrontation already forgotten as he began making his way home. It was Friday night, and he had more important things to think about than one angry woman.

Of course, Friday night ended as it usually did, with Ben tumbling into bed alone. Occasionally he found a woman receptive to his advances, at least the first time, but tonight was not a lucky night, and he fell asleep while trying to picture Selma's breasts naked.

His dreams that night were strange. As usual, women's breasts dominated, but tonight they were everywhere. Every rounded feature took on the appearance of breasts. Even the hills and the tops of trees spouted nipples, all of which stood hard and erect. He was almost glad to wake up.

Opening his eyes, he stared upwards. This was an older house, with high ceilings. Still, he didn't remember them being quite so high. He would have sworn there was a pattern up there, but now he saw only a featureless white expanse. Puzzled, he rolled over, only to realize he hadn't moved. Couldn't move, he soon realized.

What the....? In spite of his best efforts, he remained on his back, feet together, arms at his sides. His hands seemed to be grasping something, but he couldn't tell what it was. Then his concentration was broken. Something loomed overhead, and Ben froze, staring.

It looked like Selma's face, but it was huge! From his perspective, it looked like the face of one of those giants from an old movie, hanging high up, her features distinct in spite of what was plainly a vast distance. Then, as he stared, that face began to descend, quickly growing until it filled his vision.

Looking down, Selma grinned. Yesterday, Ben had been a normal man, perhaps a bit husky. This morning, he lay lost in the center of his bed, a tiny figure not even an inch tall. In his tiny hands, he held the ends of a delicate chain. Still grinning, she lifted the chain, watching as Ben's tiny figure was drawn into the air, arms stretched upwards.

"So," she whispered, "you like breasts. Why don't we let you examine them a bit more closely. Wouldn't you like that?"

Turning, she moved into the bathroom, standing in front of the medicine cabinet mirror. After carefully setting Ben on the edge of the sink, she quickly shed her blouse and bra. Taking up the chain, she leaned forward, carefully looping the chain over her head. Straightening, she smiled into the mirror.

Perfect. The delicate chain now encircled her neck. Ben, his hands still frozen around the ends of the chain, now dangled, arms slightly spread by the angled pull of the chain. More to the point, he now dangled directly between her breasts.

For his part, Ben was stunned. From this vantage, Selma's breasts looked more like soft walls, gently curving away on either side of him. Suddenly, those walls closed in, squeezing him between their soft, resilient surfaces.

Grinning, Selma watched in the mirror as she squeezed her breasts together, pinching Ben between them. Lowering her hands, she turned and walked back to the bedroom. With each step, she could feel Ben bouncing off her breast bone, sometimes brushing the sides of her breasts as he dangled helplessly between them.

In the bedroom, Selma picked up a duffle bag she'd brought with her, setting it on the bed and opening it. From within, she withdrew a strapless bra and tank top. As she covered her upper body, it became obvious that both items were a bit small, even on her petite frame. The bra, fastened tightly, pushed her breasts together, the affect enhanced by the tightness of the tank top. Returning to the mirror, she smiled at the sight of the chain vanishing into the generous expanse of cleavage her new attire revealed. Still smiling, she packed her discarded clothing into the bag before shouldering it and leaving the room.

Within her bra, Ben struggled to regain his sense of balance. It had been bad enough at first, swinging and gyrating with her movements, now and then bouncing off the soft, smooth mounds on either side of his dangling body. Then something dark had covered the space in front of him. At the same time, the valley in which he dangled shrank to a tiny crack, wedging him within. Even had he been able to move, he doubted he could have escaped, so tightly was he held between Selma's breasts. To make matters worse, her motions now caused her tightly held breasts to move in short, abrupt and seemingly random ways, tugging his body this way and that between them.

Back on the street, Selma walked sedately down the sidewalk, both hands wrapped around the strap of the duffel bag. Although this left the bag dangling in front of her legs, bumping them with each step, she didn't mind. Holding the bag this way also kept her hands close together in front of her, making it easy to squeeze her arms together from time to time, pushing her breasts together and mashing Ben even more tightly between them.

A few blocks away, she stepped into a gym, making her way quickly to the locker room. Moving to her locker, she began working the combination.

"Hey, Selma." At this, Selma glanced up, smiling at the speaker.

"Hey, Liz," she replied. "Ready for a workout?"

"More than you know. You?"

Selma grinned. "Absolutely. And I brought a visitor." Still grinning, she stripped off the tank top, then popped open her bra, her breasts bouncing in the release. Liz stared at what lay between them.

"Damn," she said, "you have a tiny naked man in there." She leaned closer. "And he even has a tiny little hard dick sticking out." Curious, she stroked the small figure with one finger. "Where did you get that? It looks so real!"

"Made it myself, you could say," Selma replied, pulling a sports top from her locker and slipping into it. Again, the top was tight, pressing her breasts firmly together. After changing into a pair of shorts and sneakers, Selma followed Liz out into the gym.

To Ben, it seemed almost as if this covering made things tighter than before. He'd been relieved when the motion stopped, even more so when Selma's breasts sprang apart, releasing him from her tight embrace. Relief had turned to fear as a huge face appeared, followed by a huge column that had nearly flattened him, or so it felt. When Selma's breasts once more closed in on him, he almost welcomed their protection.

As Selma began her workout, her motions translated into sudden, major swoops for Ben. One second, he'd be upright, only to find himself suddenly facing down. Not that it mattered which way he faced. Squeezed between Selma's breasts, all he could see was her soft skin, so close and so large he could even see the pores.

Then, as the workout continued, Ben found himself with another problem. Sweat, running down between Selma's breasts, poured over him, covering him with the scent of her exertion. Ben had always loved to see the sheen of sweat between a woman's breasts, but from this perspective, it wasn't nearly as attractive. In fact, between the motion and the smell, he found himself becoming more than a little nauseous.

Finally, the motions became more regular, and he realized that Selma was once more walking. Suddenly, her breasts sprang apart, allowing him to see what looked like a huge, gleaming white expanse. As he stared, a thought popped into his head, filling him with dread. What, he asked himself, do people do after a workout?

The answer came with a torrent of water, rushing between Selma's breasts like a river. Helplessly, Ben bounced and twisted in the current. Now and then, Selma's breasts closed in around him, but this only constricted the flow of water, making it faster. By the time the flow ended, Ben was desperate to feel the dry, safe warmth of Selma's breasts closing around him.

Back in her street clothes, Selma strolled back to Ben's house. Along the way, she treated him to the same walk and squeeze routine as before. Inside, she reached between her breasts, seperating them and carefully drawing Ben from between. Slipping the chain from around her neck, she placed it carefully on the bed before slipping out of her clothes.

For Ben, this should have been a dream come true. Naked on his bed, with a naked Selma slipping in to join him. Now, his only thought was the fear that she would lay on him. Instead, she lifted him as she slid onto her back, holding him over her face.

"I know you can hear me." She spoke softly, but her words still boomed in Ben's ears, coming on a gust of air that sent him spinning helplessly. "If you ever say another crude word about my breasts, or even stare at them, you'll be right back between them. And maybe we'll try nude jumping jacks next time." At this, Ben's mind conjured an image of himself being beaten and battered by her bouncing breasts. Her next words quickly drove that image from his mind.

"So," she said softly, "we've taken care of my breasts. Is there any other part of me you'd like to examine more closely? My pussy, perhaps?"

Selma's soft skin whizzed by beneath him, until he found himself poised over a forest of huge hairs. Looking down, he could see the gleam of moisture within that forest. He'd always hoped to find a way into the soft channel that lay beneath, but now the thought terrified him. To his relief, he was quickly whirled away, only to find himself being lowered between enormous thighs.

"Or maybe you fancy my ass." With this, Ben found himself dangling before the crack between her firm cheeks. The terror he'd felt earlier was nothing to what he felt now. Again, he was relieved to feel himself whisked away, this time to be placed once more on his bed as Selma rose to her feet.

Suddenly, the room seemed to shrink, assuming the proportions he was used to. Selma, standing naked by the bed, was no longer a giant, becoming once more the attractive woman he was familiar with, although he'd never seen this much of her before.

"You're staring." Hearing this, Ben quickly turned his head away, clamping his eyes shut. He heard Selma laugh, tensing as he waited for what he feared would happen next.

"I think you've learned your lesson," he heard instead. "For now, at least. You may look."

Turning his head, Ben watched her dress. "But if you ever treat me with less than perfect respect," she informed him, her eyes narrow, "there will be another, stricter lesson. Are we clear?"

Afraid to speak, Ben nodded fervently. Evidently, it was enough, as Selma turned and left without another word. Alone, Ben vowed to be very careful around her in the future. He'd always wanted to see her naked, get close to those breasts. Now that he had, he felt no desire to repeat the experience.

Outside, Selma smiled. Ben, she knew, would be more respectful of her in the future. And, probably without him realizing it, that would translate to a greater show of respect for all women. Still, she found herself almost hoping he would require more lessons. The thought of using him as a dildo gave her a shiver of pleasure. Oh well, she thought, turning away, such is the life of a witch.

Now, who's next?