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Home CareThe pain had become unbearable. My inner organs and striated muscles had continued to shrink, as they had over the past month, slowly detaching themselves from the frame of my skeleton. Until five days ago, my doctors had been able to alleviate my suffering with an experimental d**g designed to shrink my bones alongside my organs, a d**g produced in the milk of genetically engineered cows. True, I had shrunk to less than five feet in height, but soon after each treatment I was, at least, without pain. Until recently. My body had begun to reject the d**g integrated into the cow’s milk; I needed, I was told, another source of the d**g. One which would not trigger the immune response I was presenting to the bovine antigens. That’s where my wife, Christi, comes in. My doctors felt human milk would not pose the same challenge to my system. A human woman could be treated with hormones to produce the same d**g present in the cow’s milk, and could in theory keep me alive. The d**g would, however, break down quickly and could not be stored for any length of time. I would need to take the milk directly from the breast to receive its effects. In a consultation between my medical team, my wife and myself, my doctor presented this option and suggested beginning hormone treatments for Christi – the natural choice as the supplier of the milk. Needy as I was for treatment, this step, we felt, needed discussion in private. We agreed to get back to the doctor tomorrow with our decision. At home, we both agreed this would be a crucial step for us in our relationship. I was hesitant, not eager to have such dependence on my wife. If we started these treatments, soon I literally wouldn’t be able to live without her. She understood my concerns, and tried to reassure me as best she could. She never wanted to see me in pain; she loved me so much, she wanted to do everything she could to help me. She would love me, hold me and protect me until the end, she said, if need be. We talked for several hours, making plans for the new turn our lives were taking together, and I ended up in tears. She kissed me, stood up from the couch, and led me to the bedroom. I fell asleep in her arms as she whispered loving reassurance in my ear. Christi had always been a wonderful wife. Raised in the south in a conservative family, she always had very strict views as to the roles of husband and wife, men and women. Never one to pursue any career, she was happy at home doing what she described as “woman’s work”: cleaning, cooking and in general caring for her husband. Luckily my writing has brought in enough money to keep us comfortable. In all, she tended to be very maternal, and – as we had no c***dren – I felt as if part of her enjoyed taking care of me in my sickness…and was looking forward to her new role in my care. The next day Christi was whisked away for a several days battery of testing, bloodwork and injections. I, in the meantime, continued to wither away internally as the agony slowly worked its way back into my bones. I stayed at home with a visiting nurse for comfort care as I awaited the arrival of my wife from her three days stay at the medical center. Though miserable with pain, I was frightened of what would soon become of me as I continued treatment. I had already shrunk more than a foot; would this ever end? Was I eventually to become the size of a small c***d? Smaller? And how would my relationship with my wife change as I became dependent on her milk for life? I had many fears. Will she continue to take care of me as I grow smaller? I lay on the couch in our family room as I heard her enter the house and, after a brief discussion, dismiss the nurse. She called out to me and, as she entered the room, I could feel my breath catch in my throat. “Hi, baby,” she said merrily as she approached, “I’m back! Ooooh…I missed you so much!” My eyes goggled at her rapidly approaching body – what had they done to her?! While always tall, pleasantly curvy and full in the bust, Christi had become voluptuous. Her breasts swelled firm and heavy within her now ridiculously tight white shirt. Her legs and hips strained against the fabric of her white Capri pants. And she positively glowed with feminine beauty, her hair flowing in long golden waves, her skin radiant and tanned, her eyes sparkling and alive. “Whh–whhu-” I stammered in shock. “I know, I know,” she said with a smile, “Look at me. I’ve been pumped so full of hormones, even my curves have curves! My boobs, my hips. Look at my legs. So much longer. And look at this. All the Stairmaster in the world couldn’t do this.” She stood in front of me and ran her hands down to her hips as she slowly turned and presented her rear. It was a masterpiece, round and full and firm. She heard me groan weakly and turned back again. “Shhh…shhh…give me a kiss.” At this she knelt by my side and brought her lips to mine. I was immediately assaulted by such an overpowering rush of scents and pheromones from her body that I became instantly aroused. She released me from our kiss and sat back to look me in the face. “How are you feeling, honey?” The depth of her gaze and the amazing, almost shocking, beauty of her face held me spellbound and speechless for a long moment as my mouth hung open, trying to find words. “Shh, that’s okay, I know, I know. The doctors told me you’d react like this.” She studied my dumbfounded expression with eager curiosity. “Can’t keep your eyes off me, hmm?” She smiled, her eyes sparkling, seeing she held me in rapt attention. Slowly she tilted her head back, displaying the sinews of her long, graceful neck, her elegant collarbone – though never taking her eyes from my face, watching me stare at her. She was experimenting, gauging my reaction. She took a moment to allow me to drink in the sight of her. She was always a woman proud of her appearance; she now must be in her glory. I moaned as my arousal intensified my pain. A look of concern washed over her face. “Oh baby, I know. It hurts. It aches so much. But look at me, baby. I’m ready for you. I’m ready to make you feel better.” With this she pushed back her shoulders and displayed her now enormous breasts to me, demonstrating their weight by hefting one with her hand. “I’m full, honey. Really, really full.” She leaned towards me and allowed it to drop next to my face. “Let’s not waste any time, hmm?” With care, she began to undo the buttons of her tight, white cotton top. I watched intently as more and more giresun escort of her cleavage was revealed, my mouth went dry as she finished with the last button and, arching her back, removed her shirt. Concentrating on the task at hand, she seemed to pay no attention to me panting with weak, shallow breaths, and unclasped her big, white bra from behind. Smoothly she lowered the straps from her shoulders and, finally returning her gaze to my face, peeled the bra slowly from her enormous white breasts. She smiled at me as my mouth gaped wider in awe, transfixed by the sight. She watched me as I started to shiver and tremble below her. She heard my whines and cooed to me in comfort as she revealed the heavy, massive globes of her bosom. “Oooooh, honey, shhh…shush…,” she whispered as she lowered her breast to my face, “…relax. Lie back.” With that the mass of her giant breast brushed against my face, its pressing softness covering my eyes, nose and lips. I mouthed her flesh weakly. “Go ahead, baby,” she spoke softly, “try and suck.” My mind reeled as I was lost in delirium. I could do nothing but search blindly, like an infant, for her nipple. “Here, honey, let me help.” With one hand reaching below my head she held me to her breast, the other hand directing her nipple to my mouth. My tongue lapped at her breast instinctively, and my lips closed around her as I found her round, firm nipple. “That’s it, that’s a good boy,” she cooed as I began suckling, “Suck. Suck, baby. That’s right, that’s good. Now. Get ready. Get ready for me, here I come.” A new warmth built in her breast, and then flowed from it as I felt thick, creamy sweetness fill my mouth. She had let down her milk. She had begun to nurse me. Immediately I felt safe and loved, held tight in her pillowy embrace, sucking her nipple and gulping her warm, healing milk. Her voice was like that of a new mother to her baby. “That’s good, that’s right. Your wife’s here for you now. She’s going to take loving care of you. Christi’s going to make you feel all better.” I sucked and sucked, whining and gurgling in rapt pleasure, and took her milk as well I could. From time to time I would open my eyes, to look at the firm, round mass of creamy flesh before me, and glance up sheepishly at Christi’s face. Still she cooed and whispered lovingly to me, her smile warm and maternal. Caressing my face, she would pull me more firmly into her, and I would again close my eyes. And then I felt it, the familiar, sinking feeling I would experience after my treatments. I had begun to shrink again. I moaned weakly, wincing against my wife’s breast, and tried vainly to lose myself again in suckling. I put all my meager strength into drawing milk from her, attempting to find safety in her bosomy embrace, to hide from the dwindling which was overtaking me. To no avail – her milk began to gurgle and spill from my mouth as I could take no more. I turned from her nipple and groaned again. “Shhh, honey, relax. I know, I know. Just relax and let it happen.” Her voice was gentle, soothing. “Open your eyes, look at me.” I looked up at her beautiful face, peering down at me in pity over her tremendous breasts. Her gaze was too strong, my shame too great. My eyes fell to her breasts. Her giant, white breasts. “oh, god,” I gurgled. The sight was too much for me to take, but I could not tear myself away. She seemed to swell, growing right before my eyes. But it was me, me who was shrinking. I was hypnotized, powerless to look away. “oh…my…god.” “Alright, honey, that’s okay. Look at them. Look at my breasts.” She pushed her shoulders back, displaying their mass, their size to me, making them seem to grow even larger. “So, big. So, big now.” And then I felt it, her hand had pushed down the waistband of my pants, and fluttered to my member – grasping it gently. I was hard, harder than I had ever been. “Look at me, honey, look at my big breasts. I’m going to make you feel better. Just lie back, relax, and look at me. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it.” She began to caress me slowly, up and down the length of my shaft, even as it shrank slowly in her hands. I lay there, transfixed on my wife’s massive, firm breasts, feeling myself shrink below them, as she brought me gradually towards pleasure. I think I began to cry as my orgasm built, for she again began to coo and coddle me like an infant, hushing me at her breast as I was overtaken and pulsed hot fluid into her hand. I lay there, silent, for several minutes, my cheek against her warm breast, and slowly recovered. My pain was gone. I stirred, and she allowed me to sit. She sat alongside me on the couch, quietly, as I looked at myself. I must have shrunk another six inches. The longer I left between treatments, the more I could expect to shrink. And it had been nearly a week. And then I looked up at her. My mind not addled by pain, I could see her clearly now. She had become gorgeous. Absolutely, drop dead gorgeous. She glowed with health, and seemed more feminine, womanlier, than seemed possible. Her skin was vibrant and alive, her flesh firm and toned. Her face wore a confident, warm smile that made my stomach flutter as she gazed down at me like I was a treasured c***d. And, oh my, her breasts. So, huge. “Pretty big, huh?” she asked, acknowledging my gaze on her chest. I didn’t respond, but only glanced up at her eyes, and then back down at her breasts. She took my hand between hers, and guided it to her. “Here, touch.” She placed my hand high on her breast, and released it. I looked again for a moment to her face, which smiled down at me encouragingly. Gently I ran my small hand over her huge breast, following its curve, feeling her silky skin. I stopped as I reached her nipple, and rubbed it softly. She arched her back into my hand, pressing her nipple into my small palm as she moaned softly. “Oh, honey, that feels nice.” My other hand drifted to her other breast, attempting to cup it from below. I tested its weight, so firm, so heavy, before moving my hand to her other nipple. Again, she moaned and moved into me. “Oh, baby,” she purred, “I think I want you.” She leaned into me, pulling us both down onto the arm of the couch. She began to kiss me, first on the cheek, and then the mouth. Her mouth was huge, and covered mine completely. She covered my face with kisses, smearing me with her lipstick. As she moved down my neck, I felt her becoming more and more heated, and for a moment thought she would devour giresun escort bayan me if she could. She pulled my shirt from me, and then my pants, making her way down my chest to where, she noted with a smile, I stood erect again. Taking me full in her mouth, she moaned in delight as I grew harder still. Her wet mouth slid around me warmly and caused me to gasp as she, opening wider, took my sac fully between her jaws. Again, I felt that she would like nothing better than to consume, as she moaned and hummed as she mouthed me forcefully. While always a relatively proper, demure housewife, she had long been passionate in bed. And there, on the couch, she pulled me onto her and we made love. As always, in our usual way, with me on top. We hadn’t been with one another sexually since my sickness began, and by this point, just over four feet tall I barely reached her chest in this position. I was rutting away into her, enjoying the softness of her large body and trying to ignore the feeling of my own inadequacies, when she slowed her gyrations to a halt and whispered “Shhh…shhh. Stop baby, stop.” Puzzled, I ceased my thrusting and looked down at her. She smiled gently, brought her hand to my face, and brushed the hair back from my forehead. “I want to do this differently,” she said and lifted me by the hips away from her. I was surprised at how easily she managed my weight. I shifted onto the couch next to her and she turned to her side, at the same time pushing me onto my back. Before I could speak she had straddled me, sitting atop me on her haunches. Confused, as I had always insisted we make love with me on top, I attempted a protest, but was stifled by her fingers raised quickly to my lips. “Shhh…It’ll be okay,” she said as she looked down into my face. Lifting her fingers from my lips she reached down and grabbed hold of my erection. She raised her hips and slid herself onto me. Slowly, she began to gyrate her hips and I fell into her rhythm. She smiled widely and sat back, rising to full height above me. I goggled at her big, full bosom. She was always proud of her slim, curvy build, and I knew she was swimming with pride in her new figure. I was unable to contain my disbelief as I realized the difference in our sizes. She was huge on top of me. Seeing my reaction, she pulled her shoulders back and thrust her chest forward. Her breasts would be big to someone of normal size; to me they were enormous. “Oh, honey, you’ve gotten so small.” The concern in her voice was genuine, but I was beginning to realize some part of her enjoyed this. “And with me getting so big…” It was true; since her treatments, Christi must have grown nearly two inches. That would put her at 5’9. And her figure, to my constant amazement, had blossomed ripely as well. Her smooth curves had swelled to shapely voluptuousness, her burgeoned chest now heavy and firm. I looked with excitement at my wife’s developments, fascinated with the changes in her body. But, I had always been excited by her fine body. I realized my fascination had become less and less excitement; more and more it had changed to awe. And it was in awe I lay there, gazing up at her, as she continued to roll her hips into me. She sensed my apprehension alongside my arousal and, I think, had begun to get a taste of her growing sense of power over me. This was new to her, and she was fascinated with what she could accomplish with her body, what she could do to me. She saw my eyes still on her chest, looking at her full, round bosom, heavy and soft above me. “Look at this, baby,” she said as she lowered herself towards me, her breasts hovering inches above my face, “look how big my breasts are getting. They’re getting so big, baby. So, so big. Bigger and bigger and bigger.” I could feel myself trembling below the soft mass of my wife, eyes fixated on her breasts, breasts which had certainly far outgrown her usual D-cup. “Your head is so tiny next to them,” she mused above me, “They must look huge to you now, hmm? Are they the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen? Oh, how do they look, honey? Tell me.”I tried to stutter an answer, but I was speechless. “C’mon, baby. Don’t you like them anymore? You’re not afraid, are you?” I heard her giggle playfully as I stared up at the huge swell of flesh above me, my heart racing. I felt…dwarfed. “Ooooohhh, don’t worry, baby…this is going to feel so nice.” With that she slipped one hand below my head and lowered her breast to my face, at first brushing her skin across my lips, my nose and eyes, and then pressing her nipple into my mouth firmly. “Do you remember doing this before? Hmmm? You seemed to like it then.” She hugged me tightly to her, mashing my face into her plushness as she began to whisper to me. “Don’t worry about anything anymore. I’m going to take care of everything.” The rhythm of her hips began to quicken as she massaged my face into her breast. “Oh, my little, little man. I’m going to take loving care of you. I’m going to make it so nice.” Unlike ever before, I felt surrounded by her softness. I was losing myself in the feeling of her warm, velvety skin against my face. “From now on, this is the way it’s going to be. You don’t have to lift a little finger. Just relax and let me do everything. Let me take care of you completely. Let me make you feel nice.” I took in a deep breath and sighed weakly in acceptance, slowly beginning to suck at her nipple. I knew, at this point, that I would shrink no further. Her milk was safe to me now. That need, along with the pain, would come in the next few days. And so, as she let down her milk again, I took it in. “Mmmmm…that’s right, baby. Just relax.” Her finger caressed my cheek. “So, honey, do you like how it tastes? Do you like my milk? My mother’s milk? Do you like what mommy has for you?” Oh god, she was starting to role play. “Does baby like mommy’s milk? Hmmm? Does he like it? Oh yes he does, yes he does!” She knew, in passion, I couldn’t resist this. Her hips slowed against mine, not wanting me to come just yet. She wanted to enjoy this a little longer. “Oooooh, baby. Oooooh my little baby. My tiny, little baby. Drink mommy’s milk. Drink mommy’s milk from her big, soft boobie.” I started to whine and moan, playing my role as her baby, playing into her hands. “He’s so small. So, small. And mommy’s so big. So, so big.” She was toying with me now, playfully, seeing how easily she could control me with her body. “She’s going to take loving escort giresun care of her baby. Loving care of her tiny, little baby.” Her hips began to roll again, rhythmically, and my orgasm began to build. “Now, honey, show me how much you love me. Show mommy how big you are.” She pressed her hips, one final time, into me, grinding me onto the couch’s cushions. “Come on, baby, come to mommy.” With that I came inside her, rutting feebly up against her larger frame, as she pushed me harder and harder down into the couch. She held me like that, pinned beneath her, immobile in her embrace, until I slowly fell asleep as she cooed sweet words in my ear. The weeks went by, and I slowly dwindled with each necessary nursing at Christi’s breast. She, on the other hand, was still making weekly visits to the clinic for her hormone treatments, returning each time taller, more beautiful, more voluptuous. On one day, in our bedroom, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, stealing glances at her as she changed clothes. After lifting her shirt from over her head, she spent some time walking about the room in her giant white bra. My god, she was getting huge. Though always averting my eyes if she began to turn my way, I know she realized that I was watching her. She approached me where I sat, gazing down at me. I had become little more than three feet tall, and must have looked puny to her. She leaned forward to speak to me, to afford me a view of her burgeoning cleavage. Her breasts swelled within her white satin bra, so full and soft. She brushed my hair back from my forehead. “Baby, you’re getting so small,” she said with concern, “soon you won’t be able to do anything at all by yourself.” I tried with earnest to look her in the face, acutely aware of her huge, beckoning cleavage. But my shame was too great, I could not keep her gaze; instead I stared straight ahead into the fullness of her bosom. She brought a hand up to stroke my face. “What are you going to do when you can’t get around the house on your own? When you can’t get yourself dressed? Or protect yourself? Hmm?” The hand at my face slid behind my neck and began to rub gently at my nape. “I. I. I don’t know.” “You’re going to need someone to look after you. Care for you. Attend to your every need, hmm?” Her air was becoming positively maternal. Her matronly bosom, so close to me, was radiating warmth and comfort, drawing me inward. “Someone to take care of you. To feed you and keep you safe. A woman, baby,” she inhaled, bringing herself closer to me, “you’re going to need a woman to take care of you, isn’t that right?” “y-y-yes,” I stuttered. Why was she doing this to me? She seemed intent on shaming me into quiet submission. “Because only a woman can hold you and love you and feed you like you need, right, baby? Because a woman is big and soft. A woman like me, so big, so soft.” Her hand pulled me in closer to her, until my cheek rested against her smooth, satin-covered breast. She was basking in pride, empowered by my growing frailty. She was, I knew, looking forward to my utter dependence on her. “You’re going to need me so much, baby.” “y-yes.” “You’re going to need me to clothe you, to clean you, to hold you in my arms. Without me you’ll starve.” She held me more tightly to her breast, pressing me in to her softness, rubbing herself across my face. “Without me you’ll just wither up, honey. You’ll just wither up and die. Oh, you’ll need me for everything, baby. Every little thing.” “y-y-yes…” I stuttered again. And then I felt her hand, unzipping my pants, pulling my hard member out. Releasing me from her smothering hold, she dropped to her knees before me and pulled my shorts down to my ankles, dangling over the bed. “I want you to think about that, sweetie, think about how much you need me,” she purred as I watched her blond head dip between my legs, “think about how much you need me as I do this…” With a firm kiss she mouthed the base of my shrunken shaft. “Think about what it will be like, soon, when I hold you in my arms,” she kissed me again, running her tongue up my length, “when I hold you in my arms, like a little baby. Think about me changing your clothes, wiping your face, cleaning you all up. Think about that when you’re in my big, wet mouth.” She ran her lips over my tip teasingly. “Think about what it will be like to have me take care of everything for you. To be my little baby. To have me as your big, pretty mommy. You’ll like that, won’t you?” she asked as she took my tip between her lips again, “You’ll like to have mommy holding you again, hmm? To have mommy clean you, and feed you? Oh, that will be so nice, won’t it?” Oh god, I could – to my chagrin – feel my orgasm building already. Not even in her mouth yet, quivering in the air, I felt it looming, drawn closer by her enthralling voice. I felt she sensed its coming, also, as she continued, “Yes…yes, it will. You just think about letting mommy do everything for you, sweetie, as you get smaller. Giving it all up. Letting yourself go. Letting me take care of you.” I had started to twitch, trying to fight back my impending climax, not wanting to let her words alone so seduce me. But she was relentless, and wanted now to see if she could do it. “Think about, that, honey, as you come. Think about how I can take care of you as you get even smaller. Smaller and smaller and smaller. Until you can fit in my hand. Until you can fit between my breasts. In my bra.” She saw me shudder, heard me moan weakly. “Let it come, baby,” she whispered, “let yourself go. Think about what it will be like, so soon, when I can slip you in my bra. Under my big, heavy breast. Where it’s so soft, where I can keep you so safe, so warm. You’ll like that, won’t you?” And then I came, bursting and pulsing hot fluid onto my own belly, as I clamped my eyes shut in shame. “Ooooh…there we go, there we are…Good, honey, get it all out…” I shook visibly, and cried out, as she took me between two fingers and stroked me firmly, milking me through waves of pleasure until they waned. My last drops clinging sticky to my upper thighs, she released me and rose to her knees above me. “Now, sweetie, let’s get cleaned up.” She reached for several tissues from the bed stand and began, dutifully, wordlessly, to clean me of my seed. As I watched her wiping and dabbing, scrubbing gently, my eyes strayed to her bosom, jiggling with her efforts. I imagined, considering her cleavage, staring at her taut, satin bra, what it would be like to be…in there…as she said…to fit in her bra. Will it ever…come to be? I shuddered in fear and, I admit, anticipation. Incredibly, I felt myself stiffening again and saw her look up at me with a crooked smile… …the end for now.
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