Meet Cute-Chapter 19 (Patreon)

Ninety Minutes Later

Barbara placed the hermit crab enclosure on the bedside table next to Mark. It was, improbably, furnished for miniature human habitation, albeit for a miniature human who was roughly ten times larger than Mark’s current height of seven tenths of an inch. “There.”

Mark crossed his arms. “Alright. Before we get into the many dignity-based issues I have with this, where did you even get it?”

“Inga had a spare. Her husband is a drone pilot for Orange Yak. He even delivered it!”

“And why do they have—”

“I did not ask.”

Twenty-Three Hours Later

Barbara rested her chin on the bedside table in front of the still-minuscule Mark. They had just passed the 24-hour limit on the shrinking effect. “Uh-oh.”

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Uh-oh. I suggest we wait it out a little bit more, and then call Ryan. Or his lab. But probably Ryan.”

“Of course. I trust him most to—” Barbara looked back over her shoulder as the doorbell rang. “Ah. Right.”

“What is it?”

Barbara turned to look at him and bit her top lip. “We were to discuss this and I forgot.”

“What, Barbara?”

“The matter of MJ’s deportation from Latvia.”

What?”

“Also her and Sofija coming to live here.”

Mark fixed his nearly four-mile-tall wife with such a stern look that she blanched.

She added, in a sheepish voice, “Starting today.”

“Why in God’s name would you not—!”

“I should go get the door!”

“No! You can’t—not while I’m—!” Mark was lifted off his feet by the upwelling of air as Barbara’s enormous body rose to standing. Thankfully, he fell on his behind and was able to brace himself against the bedside table before the turbulence behind her pulled him off the table. He listened with a combination of annoyance and apprehension as Barbara and another, similarly boisterous voice greeted each other in Latvian. That shifted to pure apprehension as the door shut and enormous footsteps, plus the boisterous voices, approached. Then the bedroom door opened. Barbara entered first, followed by a woman who was her spitting image—except with lustrous black hair, even larger breasts, an even huger ass, and a true hourglass figure—and who towered over Barbara like Everest over Kilimanjaro. Mark, who was completely naked, could not help but sprout an enormous erection. He was so astounded by Sofija that he barely processed his social role (or the absurdity of playing it as if any of this was even remotely normal) when Barbara introduced him.

“And this is my husband, Mark.”

“Uh, n-nice to meet you.”

“Sveiki!” Sofija daintily covered her lips with her fingertips and glanced at Barbara before squatting down to get a closer look at Mark. “Your husband adorable!” She squinted at him. “And hung like blue whale.”

Mark felt his heart pounding as this even larger titaness appraised him. “Th-thank you?”

Barbara chuckled. “He is also mine, remember. Where is your fiancée?”

“Ah! Right.” Sofija straightened her back and reached into her humongous, ugly, sturdy beige bra. She produced a flushed, sweaty, and 5.7” tall Marnie Jo. Sofija plunked MJ down on the bedside table next to Mark. “Here.”

Mark fell on his backside again as the five-mile-tall titaness casually deposited a seventy-foot-tall giantess right next to him. While Marnie Jo was nothing to Barbara and Sofija, Mark was barely taller than her ankles. Marnie Jo’s taut, slender body loomed over him as she shouted up at Sofia. Mark slid back away from her in fear because she seemed oblivious to his presence.

“Finally! Do you know how hot it was in there!? Neoprene isn’t breathable when it’s a quarter of an inch thick, let alone when it’s as thick as I am tall! Now I’m all sweaty for when we see Mark and Barbara again.” Marnie Jo stopped and looked over at Barbara. She drew in on herself. “Oh! You’re right there. You’ve gotten, um…wow. The treatment really suits you. Hi.”

“Hello, MJ. Congratulations on your engagement!”

“Thank you! Where’s Mark?”

Barbara and Sofija both pointed to the bedside table next to Marnie Jo. She looked down and yelped at the sight of the tiny, enormously hung man by her feet. “Oh my god! You’re so small!” Marnie Jo squatted down to take a closer look at Mark. She eyed his penis hungrily. “Well, most of you is so small. How did this happen?”

Mark gathered himself and stood. “Wait. Before we get into that. How did you get here?”

Sofija spoke up first. “Latvian government came to village. Conducting inquest on SoqoSoutape misconduct. Discovered MJ had overstayed visa. Started talk of jail. Deportation. So we left.”

“Okay, yes. But how did you leave?”

Marnie Jo knelt down in front of the tiny man and continued to scrutinize him. She brushed her hair back over her ear. “We flew. On a drone.”

“With respect, none of Orange Yak’s current drones are large enough to carry Sofija, let alone cross the Atlantic with that kind of payload.”

Sofija furrowed her brow. “What does this mean, ‘payload’?”

Barbara turned to her gigantic cousin and said, in Latvian, <<He is using a polite euphemism to say that you weigh far too much for the aircraft in the Orange Yak fleet.>>

<<Your husband is very astute. And uncommonly brave for a man of his stature.>> Sofia nodded down at Mark with a smirk. “Jā. True, breasts alone exceed ‘payload.’ Was not Orange Yak drone.” Sofija nodded sagely. “I like you, Mark. You call me fat politely. Unlike MJ.”

“Oh, you love it.” Marnie Jo scooted closer to Mark. “SoqoSoutape had other subsidiaries. Including, as you may be aware, SouthrupGrumpersonn, the military hardware manufacturer. Which has an experimental drone version of the C-5M Super Galaxy that can more than carry Sofija. We flew in that. Or, well, Sofija did.”

Sofija added. “MJ could not be on passenger manifest. Would be arrested.”

“So I shrank down and rode in her bra. And I’ll tell you, it’s a much longer flight squeezed up against such huge boobs and with your libido shot through the roof.” Marnie Jo swallowed. “May I pick you up, Mark?”

“No! Wait. Hang on.” Mark pinched the bridge of his nose.

Sofija giggled and said to Barbara, “You’re right! Is very cute annoyed gesture.”

Mark fixed Barbara with a glare.

The nearly four-mile-tall woman grimaced. “I’m sorry. It is endearing.”

Mark continued. “So you, MJ, while facing possible criminal charges in Latvia for overstaying a temporary residence visa, chose to hide in Sofia’s bra, stow away on an experimental military cargo drone, become a fugitive from justice despite being one of the most prominent athletes and largest human beings on the planet, respectively, and come here, to my home, to hide out?”

Marnie Jo nodded once. “Yes.”

Mark shook his head and closed his eyes. He took and released a long, steadying breath. Without opening his eyes, he said, “Who even piloted you home?”

Sofija answered, “Inga’s husband. Is excellent pilot.” Sofia gestured at the hermit crab enclosure. “You know him?”

Mark finally opened his eyes. He brushed off his thighs, as if that somehow made him seem more formal, less naked, and more than a third of an inch tall. “Okay. Okay. Barbara, I will need you to get me to a phone and to help me call our lawyers. We need to start addressing this. Immediately.”

Sofija waved him off dismissively. “Pah. No need. Is handled.”

Mark gaped up incredulously at the five-mile-tall woman, then chuckled incredulously. “You are fugitives in the middle of a complex international incident and your answer is, ‘Is handled?’”

“Jā.” She arched an eyebrow at Barbara. <<He has your accent down pat.>>

Barbara scoffed. <<What do you mean, ‘my’ accent? It’s our—>>

“Wait! Wait. Just because I’m so small doesn’t mean you can ignore me.”

Barbara glanced at Sofija. The two shrugged and nodded in similar, chastened ways.

“Thank you. Now. How, in God’s name, is this handled?”

At that Very Same Moment

Two extremely annoyed Latvian immigration enforcement officials glowered at the second Orange Yak documentary crew member as his gaze darted back and forth between them. The senior official spoke first. “Help me to understand.”

“Yeah, dude, of course.”

“Your wife—”

“Dzintra, yeah.”

“—a native of this very village, told you to come here and take the place of Marnie Jo Banton so you could face the consequences of her immigration violation instead of her.”

“Right.”

“Which consequences include arrest. And imprisonment.”

“Yes.”

“And you did.”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Dzintra’s very persuasive. And, like, eighteen feet tall. It’s hard to say no to her.”

The two immigration officials, both men, looked at each other. The junior one said, “You mean she seems eighteen feet tall, like most Latvian women? Or she is eighteen feet tall?”

“Uhh, both?”

The senior official sighed and resumed his questioning. “Sir, more importantly, you were told that from the perspective of Latvia—a sovereign, developed nation—that for the purposes of our immigration and legal systems, one American is as good as any other, which means that you could simply substitute yourself for an international fugitive, and furthermore that you could do so by transiting our airspace on an unregistered, low-flying quadcopter drone, without clearing customs, and you believed it?”

“Yes?” The second Orange Yak crew member threw up his hands and shrugged at the immigration officials’ dubious expressions. “I don’t know man! It’s Europe!”

The two officials stared at him, gobsmacked. Then the junior official looked at his senior and said, in Latvian, <<Should we take him into custody? Prepare the extradition paperwork for Banton?>>

The senior official answered, <<No, he’s the third American in as many months to sincerely believe this kind of tripe, and the American State Department is uniquely expert at spinning the idiocy of her people into arguments for leniency. Plus, arresting an Olympic gold medalist on American soil for leaving a country she was required to leave? There will be outrage. This is not worth the trouble. We will drop it.>> He turned to the Orange Yak crew member. “You are free to go. But you must leave Latvia immediately.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. But on an actual commercial flight. With a ticket. That you buy!”

“Thank you so much, dude! Or, uh, I mean, sir, dude.”

“You are welcome. Now, please, leave. Go home. Enjoy your giant Latvian wife.”

Five Minutes Later

Sofija thanked Inga and ended the call on her tablet. “See? Is handled.”

“Great!” Marnie Jo, who was now sitting cross-legged, scooted even closer to Mark. Her seemingly 25’-long shins stretched up to either side of him. “Can I pick you up now? I’ve never been with a, um, a man…shorter than me before.”

Mark looked up at the 100’ tall woman. He watched her pupils dilate as she looked down at him, hungrily. He felt his penis start to harden, but was still more annoyed than aroused. “I…I am candidly not much in the mood.”

Barbara looked over and up at Sofija, who towered over her and whose breasts dwarfed Barbara’s own. She cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

Sofija smirked back.

Barbara squatted down in front of the bedside table so that she was closer to the 5.7” Marnie Jo and .7” Mark. She deliberately leaned her breasts against the edge of the table so that they bulged up towards her chin. The impact knocked Mark on his butt yet again. “I’m so sorry, Mark, for all the unpleasant surprises today. And I know it must be scary, still being so small. Not knowing how long it will last.” She brought her biceps in, squeezing her breasts against one another so that they bulged out even more.

Mark felt his heart pound as what appeared to him to be millions of tons of boob surged up, and up, and up above the plane of the bedside table and his wife’s mountainous, pouty expression filled his entire field of vision. “Barbara…” There was a loud squeaking sound behind him, followed by a blast of air that nearly threw him flat on his face. Mark turned to find Sofia laying on his and Barbara’s (well, mostly Barbara’s) gigantic bed, propped up on her elbows, facing him. Directly ahead of him, a mile of cleavage spanned the distance from the mattress to Sofija’s sternum. And half a mile above that was Sofija’s beautiful face. She looked so much like a younger Barbara. Mark could not help but grow a full, raging erection.

Sofija chuckled. “We make it up to you. Barbara and I, we are too big for you, no? But you have dick enough to fuck giantess nearly ten times size.” She gestured at Marnie Jo. “And look! We have giantess nearly ten times size.”

MJ ran a huge-to-him, .3”-wide fingertip down Mark’s back. Her voice had the kind of pressure behind it that signaled barely-contained lust. “Yeah. Look at that.”

Barbara leaned in still closer. “Although MJ is new to this. We’d have to keep a close eye on you. By, for example, cradling you both between my and Sofija’s humongous breasts as you two fuck.”

Mark knew he was being manipulated. Toyed with. These three giantesses, including his own titanic wife, were taking advantage of his sexual predilections. His vulnerable position. They were using the situation to gloss over his legitimate grievances, to satisfy Marnie Jo’s curiosity and medication-induced horniness. And he was 100% on board with it all. He turned to Marnie Jo. “Yes. You can pick me up. Please be careful. We’ll also need a safe word.”

Marnie Jo clapped and nodded excitedly. “Sofija and I use ‘sapparod.’”

“Works for me.” He lifted his arms out to the side.

Marnie Jo reached down excitedly, but gingerly, with trembling hands. She put her index finger between his shoulder blades, middle finger just above his buttocks, and ring finger just below them. Then she gently pressed her thumb against his ribs and picked him up. A thrill went up her spine when she realized he weighed next to nothing. It was like picking up one of her brother’s 1980s-era G.I. Joes. She tilted her hand back so that gravity held him against her fingertips. Her breathing grew ragged as his cock, which was slightly more than half his height, bounced up against her thumbnail. “Oh, god. Oh god. This is amazing.”

Mark’s cock throbbed with his heartbeats. While fucking a living landscape had been incredible, he was excited about the prospect of being with a giantess whose scale was comprehensible and whose vagina was not a functionally infinite void. “Can you please move me to your palm? You’re being very gentle. But I don’t want you to pinch me reflexively when you get picked up.”

Marnie Jo nodded, and obliged. She deposited Mark on her palm, then cupped him with both hands. “Ready?”

Mark nodded up to MJ’s 10’-high-to-him face. “Ready.”

MJ, in turn, looked up to Barbara’s 27’-high-to-her face. “Okay. We’re ready.”

Barbara and Sofija each giggled as they stripped off their shirts, then their bras, exposing a combined total of 1.6 tons of boob. Sofija stood up on her knees on the bed and shimmied back to make room for her cousin. Barbara gingerly picked up MJ, cradled her in her palm much as MJ was cradling Mark, and walked onto the bed on her knees. She laid MJ down on her back in the valley of Sofija’s lifted, squeezed-together breasts, then mashed her own, huge-but-smaller breasts up against Sofija’s. Then, with one hand under her bust to hold it steady, she slid MJ down so that MJ’s hips nestled into where their bosoms met.

To MJ (at just under 6 inches tall), it was like being cradled by a warm, soft, gently sloped, standard-dimension four-way intersection.

To Mark (at under three quarters of an inch tall), however, it was like being gently lowered part way into a valley in the Catskill Mountain Range. The gently rounded mountains soared to all sides of him…and a vertiginous drop yawned below. Even with his rational understanding that the fall was less than a foot and would be harmless, the prospect of tumbling down that far was terrifying. Mark swallowed, then said to MJ, “You’ll need to hold on to me till—till I’m, uh, in you. Please. So I don’t fall.”

MJ nodded. She continued to tremble with nerves and excitement. “So, then, can I—?”

“Yes.” Mark braced himself as MJ moved him, a little too quickly, down to her vagina. As she gingerly pinched him between her thumb and forefinger to lift him from her palm, he clutched her thumbnail.

Marnie Jo lifted Mark with his legs and huge-to-her (and-massive-to-him-alone) cock dangling free, brought him to her crotch, and gasped and shuddered as she began to work him into her surprisingly tight vagina with a palm as wide as his torso was long.

Sofija licked her lips at the spectacle of her tiny lover writhing in pleasure as she coupled with Barbara’s minuscule husband. She then felt Barbara’s nipples harden against her own, noticed that Barbara was similarly transfixed, and grinned conspiratorially at her cousin. <<Shall we give them a show?>>

Barbara tore her eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of her speck of a husband thrusting into their doll-sized friend. A smile spread across Barbara’s face. <<An excellent idea.>> She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to her right with her lips parted.

MJ and Mark steadied themselves—MJ with her hands against Sofija’s breasts and feet against Barbara’s, and Mark by grabbing onto MJ’s 2’-high labia—when the “ground” beneath them began to heave up like the plume of a slowly-intensifying fountain. Both looked up in time to see Sofia’s giant, pillowy lips lock with Barbara’s.

To Mark, it was as if the entire sky was composed of his beautiful wife kissing a younger version of herself. He found himself transfixed with the movements of their lips and dance of their aircraft carrier-long tongues. His body, and enormous cock, spasmed with an unprecedentedly powerful orgasm. As soon as he could breathe again, he panted out, “S-sorry, I—I couldn’t—“

MJ rubbed his back gently with the calf-thick-to-him pad of her index finger. “No, no, not your fault.” She looked up at the titanesses above her. “It was your fault!”

Sofia stroked her fiancée’s hair with the edge of her pinky fingernail. “So sorry, little one. We make it up to you?”

“How?”

“By doing again. When he is ready.” She gestured at Barbara, sending an earthquake through their still-touching bosoms. “And if they are willing.”

Barbara shrugged, sending an even larger earthquake through the mountain range of her and Sofija’s breasts. “Oh, I’m willing.”

Mark, who was still out of breath, still .7’ tall, and leaning forward on MJ’s labia with his softening penis buried a still-respectable distance inside her, nodded. “Yeah, same.”

Twenty-Five Hours and Ten Minutes Later

Julia walked in on Ryan sitting at one of the lab tables. His phone was lying next to him, face up, and still unlocked. He, however, had his head down, fists clenched, and the heels of his palms pressed against his eye sockets—hard. “Ryan? You okay?”

He did not change position. “The shrinking effect can be doubled in duration in non-acromegaly subjects who take two simultaneous doses of the most recent formulation. But the extent of the shrinking is multiplicative. Subjects end up not one tenth of their height, but one one hundredth of it.”

“Holy shit! Who would be stupid enough to—no, no, forget I—“

“My girlfriend’s father. And her giant mother. And her giant cousin, who is my mother’s fiancée. And my mother. Who is currently barely more than a quarter of an inch tall and staying, along with said giant fiancée, with Jennifer’s father and giant mother as, I gather, they have repeated foursomes.”

Julia opened her mouth and inhaled deeply, then unconsciously fanned her neck as she imagined what her wife would look like to her if Julia were a quarter of an inch tall. Or vice versa. “Um. So. I’ll…leave you…alone?”

“Yes, please, thank you.”

Two Hours Later

Jennifer finally composed herself. She sat back up to look at the camera positioned over the full-size movie screen with Ryan’s face on it, suffered another fit of giggles, then sat back up again. “Okay, sorry, sorry. I understand that this is upsetting.”

“It’s not just that it’s TMI, Jenn. What they’re doing is incredibly stupid! What if they get hurt? What if the shrinking had lasted forever?”

“Well, so, I gather Daddy would have been living the dream doing daily mountain climbs on Mommy. And, on a more serious note, they’d have found a possible route to a cure for me, right?”

Ryan sighed. “Ugh, fine, you’re right. How is the TMI part not mortifying for you, too, though?”

Jennifer smiled. “Well. I did grow up in a family with a unique perspective on uncommon heights and proportions.”

“True.”

“And, um…oh. Wait. Where are you right now?”

“In the apartment.”

“In your loft or the living room?”

“The living room. Why?”

“Pick your laptop up off your lap.”

“Uh, o…kay?” Ryan obliged.

Jennifer pictured what was about to happen and bit her bottom lip before continuing. “So, I think my perspective on our parents’ sex positivity might be influenced somewhat by the fact that I am, as of today, officially over 120 feet tall.” She smiled as Ryan’s eyes went wide. “And spending most of my time naked.”

Ryan was grateful that Jennifer had told him to pick up the laptop. His nearly 16’-long erection rocketed out at the resulting mental image of Jennifer that formed in his head. He would have launched the computer into the air, or opposite wall. “N-naked?”

“Mm-hmm. I mean, to be clear, they routinely fabricate clothes for me. But I’m growing so fast now that even with as much as they stretch, the clothes get so uncomfortable. So tight. I mean, just look at this!” Jennifer reached up to angle the camera rig over the screen down, bringing her cleavage into view as it bulged out and around the cups of her truly humongous, ugly, sturdy beige bra. She cupped her breasts to hike them up even further. “Can you believe this bra fit me fine just two hours ago?”

“Oh my god.” Ryan’s cock throbbed at the sight. He swore he could see the fabric of the bra tightening as he watched. “That’s incredible.”

Jennifer angled the camera back to her face. “I’m glad you think so. Because my boobs are very excited to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you either.” Ryan laughed as Jennifer playfully trained the camera on her bust again. “No, not them! You!”

Jennifer ducked her face down into the boob shot and arched an eyebrow.

“Fine. And also them.”

She grinned and re-positioned the camera rig. “Oh, hey, speaking of which. Did you get your flight information yet?”

“Oh! Yeah! Sorry. I sent the itinerary to Orange Yak so they can arrange for my ride from the airport but forgot to forward it to you. I get in midmorning on Friday. That was the earliest I could get there. And then I take the redeye back on Sunday. I wish I could stay till Monday, but they need me in the lab.”

“No, I understand. I need you in the lab, too. And we’ll certainly make the most of it!” Jennifer smirked again. “You know, that’s over ten feet while you’re here. I’ll grow by more than two of you before you fly home.”

Ryan took in a shuddering breath. “Oh, god. That’s hot.”

“Mmm. I think so, too. I keep imagining how small you’ll be to me. All the things I can do with you. All the places you’ll fit, all the parts of me that are bigger than you. So we have lots of ideas to try out.” Jennifer looked up as one of the Orange Yak workers popped in on the catwalk along the wall of her living space and waved. “Oh, hey, sorry. My dinner is here. I should go.”

“Of course. I love you, Jenn.”

“I love you too, Ryan. Have a safe trip!” Jennifer puckered her lips, each of which was six inches longer than Ryan’s body, and blew him a kiss before hanging up the video conference.

Ryan stared at the blank screen for a second before lowering the laptop down to rest it on his still-erect cock. He closed the screen and set it aside, then leaned from side to side to scrutinized the full length of his enormous shaft and ridge of his even wider glans. He tried to picture what would happen if he crammed this much dick inside a commercial airplane. He realized that were he to fall asleep on the redeye flight, one of his inevitable erections would spell disaster for everyone…and that the longer he stayed, the more Jennifer there would be. “Yeah, no. I’m definitely flying out on Monday.”

Three Days Later

Ryan sat on the bench outside the tiny regional airport to which the puddle jumper had carried him. He looked at his watch impatiently. The Orange Yak TaXtreme-i was supposed to have picked him up twenty minutes ago. Ryan pulled out his phone, annoyed, to see if they had at least messaged him. It was hard to see the screen in the glare of the morning sun. Ryan was grateful when a cloud crossed the sun and cast some much-needed shade. He grunted. No calls, no messages. Nothing. Ryan looked up towards the parking lot across the street and wondered if maybe the driver had parked there. As he scanned the ground, he realized that this cloud cover was awfully static. It also seemed uncommonly localized. And especially dark for the shadow of something as far away as a cloud. On top of that, the cloud casting the shadow was shaped like a huge-breasted, broad-hipped woman who was standing with her shapely legs spread and hands on her narrow waist. Ryan whipped around to see Jennifer. She was naked, haloed in the light of the morning sun, and towering over 130 feet tall. His imagination had not nearly done her justice. She looked, quite literally, like a goddess.

“Hey there, handsome. Need a lift?”