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Archive-name: Changes/size.txt


Archive-title: Sizeable Difference, A

     Tim was moving up and down, his belly sweeping over 

her mammoth mammaries, her fat motherly nipples erect and 

rubbing against his chest. Tim began to grow smaller.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     Tim was shrinking, his arms buried under her bulky 

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

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

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

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

hair,  floundering helplessly against her fat  mound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nuzzled him against one breast; heavy and pendulous against his 

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

the center like a cherry candy. He bit it.

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

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

wedged him firmly between her huge thighs and spanked him with 

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

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

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

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

       Ellen shook him. "Stop that!"

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

think of something ! "

     Annoyed again, Elllen eased himunder her shaved armpit, 

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

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

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


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

      "Would you like me to sit an you?"


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

nudged him teasingly, threateningly, her smooth white breast twice 

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

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

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

could squash him wittout even thinking, he realized.

      ''No. Please."

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

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

chest. "But be good."

 Tim was good.

     When Ellen left for work on Monday, Tim was still 

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

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

gotten over his rage, but was still annoyed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     "Daddy! is that you?"

     Tim looked around, almost falling off the window sill. 

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

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

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

crumbs around her lips.

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

      Cindy stared at him critically, disbelevingly. "You sure 

look like him." She extendsd a chubby hand.

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

      Cindy reached out and grabbed his tiny little hands, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

heavy thigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

down all around him, utterly pinning and practically suffocating 


     Every time he inhaled, her soft nylon plumpness would fill 

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

He lay pasty-faced on the floor, recovering.

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

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

held out to him and began shucking off his diaper.



     When Ellen came home, she sensed something was wrong. 

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


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

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

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

      She played a little rough and now Cindy was playing 

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

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

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

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

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

threatened to eat him.

  "Cindy, what are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

sweater today, and her twin enormous globes jiggled noiselessly 

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

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

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

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

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

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

      "You're squeezing me!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

was like being crucified on a sofa.

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

mmph--mean that. Please--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

he almost blacked out.

      When he saw light again, Ellen was nursing him against 

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

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

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

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

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

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

snuggled beside one mammoth sloping breast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


    Tim leaned lazily against one immense flank, wide as a 

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

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

against her flesh.



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