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Hexed Ch. 01

By: dellagordo



This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 or older. This story features my usual themes of Oedipal incest, exaggerated bodies, and copious fluids. 

1.

I disembark from the plane, after seventeen hours in the air, a two hour layover in Hawaii, and an hour and a half in the Sydney airport. I am shagged out and jet-lagged, but it still feels good to be back in the good ol' US after a semester in the Land of Oz. Don't get me wrong, it was fun working on my tan and surfing through the winter, and Australian girls are fit and cute and can drink me under the table, but I missed home. 

A quick trip through customs and a new stamp in my passport and I'm out of the terminal. Mom is waiting for me, fairly jumping up and down to catch my attention. We've stayed in touch through the occasional phone call and lots of e-mail, but my mother the luddite couldn't figure out Skype to save her life. So I haven't actually seen her in months... and I am shocked and gladdened to see how great she looks. 

Mom has shed at least ten years and fifty pounds. Always a tall, curvy girl, she's kept some weight in all the right places, and the fashionable blouse and skirt combo she's wearing shows off those curves quite nicely. Her long brown, almost black hair hangs past her shoulders, and she's wearing contacts instead of her glasses. Subtle makeup enhances her natural beauty; high cheekbones, pert nose, full lips. 

Mom wraps me up in a fierce hug, holding me tight to her large breasts which mash between us. "Oh, my little man is home! It's so good to see you! I've missed you so much!" She plants a quick kiss on my cheek and then releases me, to look me up and down. "You look good, kid. All that sun and exercise has treated you well."

"You look great, too, Mom," I say, and mean it. She looks fantastic, sexy, vivacious. You're not supposed to notice that about your mom, but I can't help it. Mom is transformed from the dumpy housewife who dropped me off at the airport almost four months ago. Anyone who didn't know her would say she had work done. But I know that's impossible. 

Mom smiles, too. Maybe because of me, but probably because of the new boyfriend. Good for her, it's been long enough since Dad died. 

The tall, silver haired guy in the polo shirt at her side must be Clark, the beau, and he gives me a firm handshake and a welcoming smile. "Nice to finally meet you, Robert," he says. "I've heard quite a bit about you."

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wilkins," I say, but he quickly corrects me. Clark it is. 

"I'm sure you're tired from your flight, but Clark wants to take us out for an early dinner, if that's alright?"

"Sure, Mom. I could murder a steak." It's one of those things Dad used to say, and she gives me a funny look when I say it. 

She puts her hand on my cheek. "You look so much like him, you know," and we share a moment that Clark is gracious enough to not interrupt. I'm already liking this guy, and it's clear that he's good for Mom, which is the main thing. 

So we go out to dinner, after packing all my luggage into the trunk of Clark's station wagon. He's a divorcee, got a few kids of his own about my age, and they'll be coming home from college in a few weeks. I'll be happy to meet them, I assure him, although I expect to be busy meeting up with my high school friends and preparing for my summer internship down the city. 

Mom's looks aren't the only change. She's like another person. Light and breezy, she laughs a lot, throwing her head back and releasing a throaty chuckle at some witticism of mine or Clark's. She is absolutely devastating in her ensemble, with a low neckline that shows off some prodigious cleavage and a high skirt that showcases toned legs and a firm backside. I have to remind myself a few times that she's my mother, and not one of the Mrs. Robinsons that used to hit on me back in Australia. 

After dinner, Clark drives us home and helps me carry my bags into the house, up the stairs to my bedroom. I'll unpack later. There's a message on the machine from Tony, and while Clark and Mom relax in the living room with a glass of wine, I give Tony a call. The guys are getting together tonight at Thurstons for pool and beer and wings. I am indeed down, I assure Tony. 

I let Mom know. She's clearly disappointed. "But you just got here -- I want to hear more about your trip." As if I didn't keep her updated the entire time I was over there, or share stories over dinner. But I haven't seen the guys in forever, so I beg off. Clark is surprisingly supportive. "He's a young man, Beth. He doesn't want to spend his Thursday night with us old fogies."

They're not that old and they're actually pretty cool for parental types, but you know how it is. Mom acquiesces. Not that I was going to do anything differently, but it avoids a fight. Probably something else I should thank Clark for. Mom is more even-tempered than she was before I left. 

I go upstairs, take a quick shower, then dig through my luggage to find something suitable to wear. After I change, I rumble down to the living room. Mom and Clark are just disengaging, and I finally admit to myself that it's a little odd seeing Mom looking flushed and glassy eyed. I give her a peck on the cheek and head outside. Tony is on the way to pick me up, and I wait for him in the usual spot.

Tony pulls up fifteen minutes later, grinning madly behind a cigarette and promising to welcome me back to the states in true American style. What follows is several hours of drunken debauchery -- shots and beers in rapid succession, broken only by the occasional order of buffalo wings and handful of stale pretzels. When the other guys show up at Thurstons, we start several rounds of pool, and I get progressively worse at the game as the alcohol thunders through my system. I thought I got good at drinking in Australia, but the sheer amount of alcohol Tony, Steve, and Perry buy me tests the endurance I built up overseas. 

Finally, as the bartender announces last call, and the guys are forced to peel me off the floor, we leave Thurstons. "It's good to see you, man," Tony slurs as he pulls in front of my house. He probably shouldn't be driving, but I'm in no shape to criticize. Instead, I give him an awkward half hug from the passenger seat and admonish him to be careful driving home. 

I stumble up the walk to the front door and fumble with my keys. In the back of my brain, I'm relieved to see that Clark's station wagon has departed. It takes two tries before I find the keyhole, and it takes me a while to remember how to get the thing working. I fairly fall through the front door, but with a little concentration manage to close it behind me and lock it. I stagger down the hall towards the kitchen, suddenly struck by that drunken hunger that always gets you at 2 AM. 

I shrug out of my jacket and leave it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I survey the pickings. Some cold chicken, some pasta, lots of vegetables... a-ha. In the back on one of the lower shelves, almost hidden by condiments, is a pie. There are two pieces cut out of it, which clue me in to the fact that it's blueberry. My favorite. 

Salivating, I wedge the pie plate out of the fridge and bring it over the island. That's when I notice the note placed on the saran wrap encircling the pie. In my mother's hand, it reads: "Robbie DO NOT EAT this -- I'm serious -- Mom."

In my drunken state, that is hardly a deterrent. I toss the note aside, peal the saran wrap away, and finding a fork, dispense with other cutlery and a plate and just dig in. The first bite is like electricity on my tongue. Juicy, tangy, with a hidden hint of something I cannot quite place. And the crust, as flaky and light as anything Mom has ever made before. In fact, she hasn't baked since Dad died, and this is the first homemade pie I've seen in years. Shame on her for trying to keep me from eating any of it. 

As I plow through the pie, I feel a sort of tingle at the base of my spine. Not unpleasant, but growing stronger with each bite. My skin feels alternately warm and cool in patches, and as I begin to work my way through the second half of the remaining pie, I feel a cool sweat break out on my forehead. My eyesight actually begins to swim a little bit, but that could be the alcohol. Proportions look a little weird. The fork looks big in my hand. 

I should probably stop, and were I sober, I certainly would, but I am pretty drunk, and my ability to reason is seriously impaired. I think I only meant to have a piece or two, but I am devouring the whole damn thing. It's just so delicious and different and tasty. I'm not thinking straight. I'm not acting right. 

I'm not feeling well. 

As the last piece of pie enters my mouth, I look at the empty pie plate. The fork falls my hand and clatters in the plate. 

My vision swims. Lights swirl in front of me, and the tingle at the base of my spine has extended across my back and into my limbs and skull. I feel tight, as if my skin was stretched hard against every muscle in my body. And then suddenly I feel as though I'm falling, like in a dream, and the bottom is nowhere in sight. I just keep falling and falling and falling and then suddenly it's all black. 

Slowly, I come too, or feel as if I do. My head aches. 

It pounds, actually, a thundering beat in my temples that distracts me somewhat from other aches and pains. Somewhere below my waist I feel bloated, distended. And yet my head is clear. The alcoholic haze is gone. I am thinking without static. 

It feels as though something has fallen on me, a cloth or a quilt or a curtain or something. I try to pull it off me, but there doesn't seem to be an end to it. It covers me completely, extends onto the floor, wraps all the way around me. I start to panic, feel the air stutter in my chest as I fight to breathe. I need to get out from under this thing. I fight and kick and pull, and finally, after what seems like an eternity, I wrench myself free from it. 

And that's when I realize I'm naked. 

And less than a foot tall. 

2.

The kitchen is huge. The island in the middle looks like a building next to me, the refrigerator could be a skyscraper. I'm overwhelmed, and threaten to hyperventilate again. I cup my hands over my mouth and breathe through them, deep breaths. My hands smell like blueberries and alcohol. 

That "curtain" is my clothes, in a puddle beneath my feet, which has become a mound. My footing is uncertain, and my balance is off. My heart constricts like a fist as the next revelation hits me: that bloated feeling, that aching feeling below the waist, is my dick. It's huge. A comparative foot long, thick as my forearm, distended and erect and already leaking precum. My balls are massive and swollen as well, like grapefruits. I have to stand bowlegged.

What the fuck? I mean, seriously, WHAT THE FUCK?

The ground shivers beneath me. I stumble off the mound of clothes onto the tile floor, which is cold beneath my naked feet. 

And then a vision:

I see a slim, muscular, toned, bare leg twenty-five feet long descend past the edge of the kitchen island. At the end is a foot, as long as a car, encased within a black high-heeled slipper with a big pink puffball on the top. Another leg, just as long, just as gorgeous, follows. The ground shivers with each step. 

It's Mom. Of course -- who else could it be?

She's wearing some kind of nightie, gauzy and diaphenous, black in color, highlighted in pink. It ends just below her crotch, and from my spot upon the floor I can spy the high cut, black thong that hides her enormous vagina. The nightie is tied loosely around Mom's slim waist, while her titanic breasts distend the top, projecting out from her chest, wobbling like small planetoids with each dainty step. Her cleavage is yards long, clearly visible with the plunging neckline, and a glint of gold is at her throat. Her arms are long, sixteen feet or more, and the wedding ring she still wears on her left hand looks as big as a table. 

My mother is a vision of pulchritude, a mesmerizing giantess, an icon of feminine beauty. As tall as a building and yet my mom, but still the most erotic and sexy thing I have ever seen. That could be my distended cock talking, though. 

I'm almost afraid to look up further, into her face, but I am compelled to as she approaches carefully. I look up and up and up, craning my neck, to see her beautiful, billboard sized face, framed by her gigantic breasts. Her full lips are twisted into a scowl, her fine brows narrow in anger, her high cheeks flushed, and her eyes shining. Her black hair is tousled and curled from sleep, but she's very much awake and very clearly annoyed. 

"Robert Arthur Matheson," she thunders, "what have you done?" To my tiny ears, her voice is deeper and huskier than usual, given it a further erotic edge that makes my dick shiver inappropriately. "Did you read the note? Was that not clear enough for you? And you ate the entire pie? What were you thinking? No, you weren't thinking, were you, you were just doing whatever you wanted, no matter who it hurts, or how wrong it is, or-" Mom is working herself up. But she is beautiful in her anger. 

Still, even with the strange feelings taking control of my body, I can't help but react to the stress of my transformation and the terror inspired by the formidable anger of a fifty foot woman. 

I burst into tears. 

I can't help myself. One minute I'm looking up at her, wide-eyed, in shock, and the next I am huddled over my erection (which simply will not go down) bawling like a baby. 

Mom immediately softens. She crouches down toward me, somewhat lessening her incredible size. But then she does something that makes my heart beat faster, in a strange mix of terror and arousal. She reaches down, wraps her hands around me, and lifts me up. 

She makes soothing sounds, cupping me in one hand and softly brushing my head with the other. She presses me against her cleavage. My nakedness folds against the plush flesh of her enormous breasts. Through my tears, calming slightly, I marvel at their size. From my angle, braced against her left breast, I can see the curving slope of her right breast as it cantilevers outward, three feet of gorgeous, milky skinned tit, five feet wide and easily six feet tall. I can see through the thin material of her night clothes that her nipple is distended, hardened, erect, and almost as long as my new cock. I've always been a breast man, and this is without doubt the largest, most majestic, most perfect pair I have ever seen, or will probably ever see.

The scent of her perfume envelops me. Her heartbeat echoes in my ears, a quickened thump thump thump. It's all too much. Much too much, and honestly, its amazing I've lasted this long. 

With a cry, without anyone touching me, I suddenly erupt. 

A stream of cum jets from the tip of my engorged cock, spraying in a long arc across Mom's cleavage to splatter against her right tit. Again and again huge jets of pearly white, viscous liquid pour out of me, a seemingly endless stream of virulence that plasters my mother's tit in sticky, dripping pools of jism. It soaks her nightie, sticking to her skin. Aghast and enraptured, I can do nothing to stem the tide. Just enjoy it while it lasts. And it lasts longer than it should. An impossible volume of semen sprays from me, a seemingly never-ending supply. My cock tingles and aches with the effort, and my balls feel as though they are being pleasantly squeezed. My toes curl. My eyes roll back in my head. My whole body shudders with the effort.

Under me, around me, Mom shakes with barely suppressed anger. I can't bear to look at her until my flood finally, finally, subsides. I lay gasping in her hands, suddenly aware I am flooded with sweat. My dick remains rampant, and a thick dripping of cum hangs off the tip like candlewax. 

Mom's enormous breasts shiver delightedly. My cum, which seems an enormous amount to me, but is probably the same amount I generate at normal size, drips into her cleavage, leaving glistening trails on her plump milky flesh. 

I risk a glance up. Mom's gray eyes are bright and glazed, pupils the size of dinner plates dilated. I can see each individual eyelash, each one as thick as a cable. Her cheeks are flushed, and she is panting. I've never seen her so angry. Yet her words belie her emotions. 

"There, there," she coos, stroking my back softly. "That was quite a show." She sets me gently, awkwardly, down on top of the kitchen island, just a few inches -- feet -- from the empty pie plate. It looks as big as a pool to me now. I could do the backstroke in the thing. 

Mom steps toward the sink on shaky legs. She grabs a dishtowel and runs it under the faucet, then brings it up to her chest and mops at my mess. I am ashamed to admit it to myself, but the view from behind is as spectacular as the front. Her narrow waist flares out into a tight, springy ass. Those towering legs decline from plump thighs to well defined calves, emphasized by the heeled slippers she wears. She's 42, but she's got the body of a 20 year old. This is ridiculous. 

"Mom, what is going on?"

She laughs lightly. "No apology, Robbie? Not for eating the pie, or for spraying your semen across your mother's chest?" I turn red. She pivots on those impossibly long legs to look at me. Mom is smiling, taking the sting out of her words. "I shouldn't be so sharp with you. I'm sure this is rather overwhelming. Still," she says brightly, "I thought I raised you better."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I say, and I mean it. My stomach is all knotted up with worry, embarrassment, and lust. "I was drunk and hungry, and you know I love blueberry pie. And as for, well, y'know, I honestly couldn't help myself."

She sighs one of those irritable Mom sighs. "Yes, I know. That's part of the hex."

"The... what?"

Mom approaches with the wet towel. She gently grabs me and begins to clean me up. "Your mother is a witch," she tells me. "No flying broomstick or pointy hats, but I can do spells, jinxes, and hexes. Minor alterations to the fabric of reality."

It sounds preposterous, but in my current predicament, I am forced to believe her. Unless I'm dreaming? Could I be passed out on the kitchen floor right now, filled with beer and pie, my addled brain conjuring up an incestuous fantasy featuring a giant Mom? 

"By the face you're making, I see that you don't quite believe me, even though you're about nine inches tall at the moment." She sighs, places the towel on the island next to me, a huge mound of fabric. 

I shake my head quickly. "No, no, I believe you. Can you change me back?" 

"Not exactly," she says. 

Despite myself, the tears threaten again. I don't want to be a tiny freak for the rest of my life. 

"It's not permanent," she stresses. "The hex is strictly temporary. It shrinks the subject, acts as an aphrodisiac, and also enhances certain physical characteristics." Mom gives my engorgement a playful flick with the tip of her finger. I stagger backwards, but her other hand is there to catch me. For once I'm more irritated than aroused or terrified. 

"Watch it, Mom!"

She pulls her hands away instantly, and the sensual smirk on her face dissolves just as quickly. "Sorry," she says. "It's difficult for me not to... I should control myself better. Sorry.

"Anyway," she says, taking a careful step back from the island, "the pie is supposed to only be eaten one slice at a time. One slice lasts a few hours, after which the subject changes back to regular height. But you ate the whole thing."

Minus two pieces, I add mentally. On the heels of that thought, come unbidden images of a tiny Clark cavorting on my mother's splendid body. I squash them, as well as the surge of jealousy that accompanies them. "So what does that mean?" I make myself say. 


Hexed Ch. 01



Mom frowns. "I don't know, honestly. You could be stuck like this for days. Weeks at the outside. Or you could be back to normal in the morning."

Days? Weeks? I slump on top of the kitchen island. "How can you not know? It's your pie, your hex or spell or whatever."

She forces a smile. "Well, that's the problem. It's magic, not science. The proportions are important, and also the fact that you're blood of my blood complicates things. I used, well, bodily fluids in the recipe. Mine, and... someone else's."

My stomach churns again. I force myself not to think about that, or the odd taste to the pie. 

Mom's hands come around me again, and she carefully strokes my back. "It's going to be okay, honey. If things don't clear up in a day or two, I'll figure out a way to get you back to normal." I look up, but she forestalls me with a finger that lies entirely across my chest. "It's better to let these things run their course, if possible. 

"You'll just have to adjust to the situation."

"That's easy for you to say!"

Mom shakes my head. Almost under her breath, she says, "You have no idea." Louder, she adds, "Now, come on, it's late, and some of us have to go to work in the morning."

I can't help squawking as she scoops me up again. This time she's careful to hold me out from her body, although I find myself almost hypnotically being drawn to her jiggling, enormous tits. Her nipples are still hard and tenting the fabric of her nightie. While she cleaned her skin and most of the splooge off her clothes, there's a sheen across the fabric on her right tit that will most likely stain. My dick strains and throbs between my legs, and with an act of will I force myself to look away. 

I try to tell myself that it's the hex's fault. Or that Mom is barely human anymore, having been transformed into a living billboard, a person the size of a building. She's a goddess, not human, let alone my mother. But I still feel a squirminess in my gut when I check her out that proves the lie. 

My surroundings don't help. The familiar home in which I've spent most of my life has become an alien landscape. Being carried suspended thirty feet in the air does nothing for my vertigo, either. 

Mom marches right past the door to my bedroom. "Hey! Where are we going?"

"You're too small to leave alone. We'll have to figure out something for tomorrow when I go to work, but for now, you're spending the night in my room."

A sick thrill thunders through my tiny frame. 

Mom shifts me into a one handed grip as we enter her room, which unfortunately presses her giant fingers against my engorged cock, which in turn presses against my chest. The head hits my breastbone, and I feel an electric charge along its length where her finger touches it. I start thinking about baseball. In this posture, I definitely don't want it going off. I'm afraid I'd drown. 

Mom opens her closet and pulls out the old kitty carrier for Ferdinand, her late cat. "You don't seriously think -?" I start to say, but she shushes me. 

"You didn't think you'd get away without any punishment, did you?" she says. She sets the carrier on her tall bureau, then crosses the room quickly and retrieves a towel from her bathroom. I'm feeling dizzy and uncertain. 

Mom shoves the towel into the carrier one handed. It's thick, and she has to fold it in places to get it to fit. Then she gently sets me down inside and closes the door, letting it lock when it shuts. I'm on my feet and grabbing the bars in a second. "This isn't fair," I say. "Don't you think being stuck at this size is punishment enough?"

Mom clucks. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But honestly, honey, at your size, you're in considerable danger from normal things. This is as much for your safety as anything." She bends down and presses her full, mattress sized lips against the carrier door. Her flesh presses against my hands, and the head of my cock, sticking out through the door, inadvertently nudges her chin. Mom makes an indistinct noise, and an exhalation of her breath almost knocks me over. "Good night, honey."

Mom picks up the carrier, unbalancing me, and turns it around, so that the front faces sideways, pointed away from the bed. I hear a whisper of fabric. 

Despite myself, I surge to my feet and rush to the side of the carrier. There are plenty of breathing holes in the side, too narrow to climb through, but wide enough to see through. I catch the barest glimpse of my mother before she flicks off the light and slides into bed. It's enough. The image will be indelibly etched on my brain for as long as I live. 

I see her from behind again. She's removed the stained nightie, and holds it limply in her right hand. Her naked back is smooth and sculpted, with a long beautiful line down the middle, narrowing as it approaches her waist and then suddenly flaring out into broad hips. She's wearing a thong, black in color, the whisper thin back of which has disappeared into the crack of her delectable ass. The effect is of seeing her backside completely naked. Two gorgeous, tautly sculpted globes of flesh, coming together in a marvelous peach shape that I just want to bite into. To complete the picture, her braless breasts are massive enough and hang well enough that even from behind, I can see the outer curve of each.

A moment later the light is off, and it takes just long enough for my eyes to adjust to the darkness that Mom gets under the covers before I see anything else. 

But I've seen enough. 

I move to the back of the carrier, find a fold of the towel, and quickly stroke my massive dick until I feel a shuddering release rushing up the shaft. I jam the head into the towel and dump another epic load into the fabric, soaking it almost through. I hear Mom tossing and turning in her bed, and my mind makes me think I hear a moan or two escape her lips, but that is surely my imagination. It still fuels the illicit thrill. 

Sleep doesn't come easily. Ashamed, I have to empty myself one more time in the other corner before my eyelids feel heavy enough. I curl up near the carrier door, fold a bit of towel over me, and in moments I am asleep. 

3. 

I'm awakened by the sound of the shower in Mom's bathroom. I try not to imagine what's going on in there. After an eternity, I hear the water taper off, and Mom puttering around in the bathroom. In a little bit, I hear her come back into the bedroom, flick on a light, and start opening drawers. I notice that something is diffusing the light -- with a start I realize Mom has draped the nightie from the previous evening over the carrier. While the fabric is sheer, it is double folded, obscuring the view through the breathing holes. All I can make out is a silhouette of my titanic mother, wrapped in a towel, hair tousled and wet. 

I'm almost relieved to still be tiny. Almost. 

The view affords me a glimpse of Mom as she shucks the towel and, naked, slips on a pair of panties and a rather large bra. I don't see any details, but the lines of her form are perfect. Smooth and rounded in all the right places, in proportions that are mouth-watering even at normal size. She turns as she clips the band across her back and approaches her closet. But she doesn't select her outfit yet, instead returning to the tall bureau. She opens a drawer below me, and I lose myself for a moment in the contemplation of her epic cleavage, which, now that she is closer, I can just barely make out. 

Mom retrieves a few items, then retreats. If she is aware of me being awake, she makes no sign. Other than the nightie draped around my prison, she makes little attempt at modesty. I see that one of the items she recovered she puts around her trim waist, like a belt, and when she sits down on the edge of the bed and extends one of her monumental legs, I realize it's a garter belt. She's putting on stockings. 

I release an involuntary groan as I watch the fabric slide up her long, muscular leg, past her dainty foot flexed in a point. The other stocking follows, and Mom stands and ties the tapes. She tugs them a little, to test them, and I'm momentarily distracted by the jiggle of her breasts. 

Finally Mom turns to the closet and selects a blouse and suitjacket, adding a short skirt that barely reaches the top of her stockings to the ensemble. She stops at the mirror above her shorter bureau to apply makeup and select a necklace and earrings for the day. 

Mom walks towards the door, pausing only briefly to check the carrier. I freeze, still looking through the narrow breathing hole, wondering if she will remove the nightie, whether she will catch me watching her. I'm not sure what outcome I want, or how I will react -- with shame, flirtation, or flustered anger? But she only pauses a moment before sweeping out of the room. 

I release a breath I didn't even know I was holding and slump back on to the towel. This is beyond perverse, I tell myself. It doesn't matter how beautiful Mom is, or how huge, this isn't right. This is very, very wrong. I feel like I might throw up, but there's nothing in my stomach. On the heels of that realization, I wonder when I will next eat, and what? I'm also sweaty, reek of cum, and still smell of blueberries. I need a shower and a shave. I figure I might be able to get a bath at some point, but I don't want any razors coming within a hundred yards of me. 

So I manage to thoroughly dishearten and depress myself before Mom comes back. This time she tugs the nightie off the carrier. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

"Um... good morning, I guess." I try to convincingly play tired and just waking up, but I doubt Mom believes me. 

She opens the carrier and reaches in to scoop me up. She smirks at me and shakes her head. "That thing never goes down, does it?" 

I flush and try in vain to cover my cock with my hands. Mom kind of casually knocks my hands away with her thumb and closes her hand loosely but completely around me. "Don't worry, honey. I'm not offended. It's actually kind of flattering." She chuckles throatily, then holds me with both hands and carries me out to the hall. 

Neither her words nor her cavalier attitude help my mood. I don't say anything as she whisks me down the hall and then to the first floor. 

"Not talkative? I thought you'd at least thank me for taking you out of the carrier."

"Thanks, Mom," I offer lamely, without much conviction. 

Mom sighs. "My poor little man." When I was over six feet tall, that was cute. Now it adds insult to injury. "You'll be better in no time, sweetie. We just have to ride this out. A positive attitude helps. Not many people get the opportunity you have."

"Opportunity?"

"To see the world from your angle," she says. I look up, into her smiling face, but of course at the angle to which she prefers, I have to track over her immense breasts to get there. I'm afraid I linger a little too long, especially when I see the top few buttons unbuttoned, and the pendant at her throat pointing like an arrow at her cleavage. Mom has one eyebrow arched when I finally meet her eyes. "See what I mean?"

I flush again, which is becoming a habit, but force a smile. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. As I said last night, it's not exactly your fault. The hex is working on bo- on your mind. Just try not to get carried away, okay? I'm still your mother."

Don't I know it. 

"Anyway, I've set up the couch for you, so you should be okay while I'm at work." We've arrived in the family room. I look around. She's spread a couple of bath towels across the long couch, and set a few bowls out. One is empty, at the far side of the couch, and this she explains is for calls of nature. Ew. On the near end of couch are two bowls. One is filled with water, the other with chopped lettuce, cherry tomatoes, and what looks like diced sandwich meat. Ham, maybe. In the middle of the couch is the remote control to the television and the phone. 

Mom sets me down on the couch near the phone and remote. Both devices are nearly as big as I am. It makes me feel even smaller to stand next to them. 

"You've got enough food and water to last you the day, and you can watch all the TV you want. I left the phone for emergencies, but don't bother with 911. Just call me if you need anything. I'd advise you to let the machine get any calls, but I'll give you a call later today to check on you, if I don't hear from you first. Caller ID will let you know who is calling."

"I know how the phone works, Mom."

She clucks. "I know, I'm just, well, I feel bad leaving you alone like this. I'd call out sick, but I have an important meeting today. I also doubt you want your old mom hovering around you all day."

I sigh. I'm feeling a mix of lust, resentment, anger, and guilt. "You're not old, Mom. You're great, and I've missed you. I wouldn't mind spending the day with you, at normal size anyway. But go to work. I'll be okay. Honest."

She looks doubtful, but nods. She crouches down in front of the couch. "Give me a hug," she says. She holds out a hand, and reluctantly, I wrap my arms around a few of her fingers. I try to keep my dick out of the way, but it's big and awkward and I haven't gotten used to it yet. I feel that same electric charge as before when it comes into contact with her skin. She pulls her fingers away from me than leans in and gives me a quick, dry kiss on the top of my head. It's like being nudged by a soft, warm mattress.

"Be good, stay safe, don't hesitate to call me if you need anything."

"I will, Mom. Have a good day. Hey, maybe when you get home I'll be back to normal."

"That would be... that would be a relief, wouldn't it?" she says. She gives me another kiss, and heads to the kitchen to gather her laptop and bag. The back door shuts, and shortly after that, I hear her car start and she is gone. 

I'm alone. Tiny, naked, and stuck on a couch. 

I sit dejected, contemplating my predicament for a good long while. Eventually, I give up feeling sorry for myself and approach the food and water. I'm neither particularly hungry nor thirsty, which is odd, since I've been at least dripping since my transformation. By rights I should be a dehydrated husk at this point. But hey, magic, right? Not like I'm a science major or anything, but still, the whole violation of physical laws thing kind of gives me the willies. 

To take my mind off things, I scoop some water in my hands and drink. I nibble on the lettuce and the meat -- it turns out to be ham after all -- and try to bite into a cherry tomato. My teeth just aren't strong enough to break the skin, so I give up. 

I flip on the TV after that. The remote works if I give the buttons a good swat, and before long I'm scrolling through channels. There's not much on during the day, I decide. Even with the thousand or so channels Mom gets through the dish. Still, even though the television is the size of a movie screen, it's much less jarring than anything else I've encountered so far, precisely because it's the size of a movie screen. I'm familiar with that kind of ratio, and the people on the TV screen don't look as large as they actually are in relation to me, even when they go for a close-up. I find myself relaxing a bit.

But in my current state of abject arousal, I find myself coming back to the exercise shows quite a lot. It's not long before I'm rubbing one out on the towel at the far end of the couch. Fifteen minutes later I'm going again. I can't control myself. I'm constantly on edge, I've been incredibly horny for almost half a day, and even getting myself off feels extraordinarily good. It's a relief in the truest sense of the word. The length of my orgasm is extended, and while I'm cumming, I don't have to think about being small. The sheer amount I generate is less fun, but it mostly soaks into the towel, and I try to confine myself to the other end of the couch afterwards. 

I smell blueberries again. It takes me a few minutes to realize that it's my cum that is generating the scent. More magic, I guess. And better than the alternative, I suppose. Still, it's just another weird element to this whole weird scenario. You'd think by now that I'd be inured to it, but no, every new element keeps me unbalanced an uncomfortable. 

The phone rings a few times. Telemarketers and bill collectors mostly, and around 11:00, Tony tries to reach me. I don't bother answering the phone, but Tony asking to meet up for lunch depresses me even further. 

By noon, when Mom calls to check on me, I've jerked off three more times and feel as though I've thoroughly explored my immediate environs and watched as much TV as I can handle. Still, I put up a game face for Mom. "Are you behaving yourself?" she asks, and the way she stresses the "behaving" makes me blush. 

"More or less," I say. 

She clearly doesn't believe me. "Do me a favor and try not to play with it too much." I turn even redder. How do moms know? 

I'm glad she can't see my expression, but I assure her I'll try. I try to change the subject. "I'm really, really bored," I tell her. 

"Sorry to hear that, kiddo. Wish I could do something for you. There's a whole rack of DVDs to watch, but you can't reach them right now. Just stay on the couch, um, get some rest, and watch TV. Isn't there a game on somewhere or something?"

"Ok, I'll try." She lets me go, going off to eat lunch, but makes me promise to call if I need anything. Yeah, Mom, I need to be taller. But whining won't help anybody. When the phone call is over, I stare blankly at the TV for a while, and then decide to "make the best of it." I don't care if it gets me in trouble. I'm going exploring. 

I clamber over to the arm of the couch and look for handholds. It's a fifteen foot drop to the floor, but the towels and the coverlet afford me something to grip. I slip over the side, holding bunches of fabric in my hand, and start to lower myself. My huge dick makes things uncomfortable and awkward, and when I bump the sensitive head against the side of the couch, I release an involuntary gasp and lose my hold. Sudden vertigo as gravity does its work and I plummet fifteen feet. 

I cry out, an instant flash of a broken leg or worse filling my mind, and then I hit the carpet. All the air is knocked out of me, but I bounce up and land on my feet, sucking air through my teeth and wincing at the bit tip of my tongue. I do a quick survey, find nothing broken. I'm whole, unharmed, untouched. More magic, I guess. I flex my knees and attempt a hop. Surprisingly, I bound ten relative feet up into the air, and my hands reach out and grab the edge of the coffee table. I cling there for a second and then drop back down, bouncing as I alight on the carpet. 

This is... okay, I decide. I can work with this. 

I've always been in good shape, and a few months in Australia hiking, swimming, and surfing at every opportunity has left me in the best shape of my life. Maybe compressing my molecules down to this size has done something to me, too. I'm light as a feather, but clearly stronger than I am normally, and capable of leaps that professional basketball players would envy. I bounce around the room a bit, getting used to the action and activity. Before long, I've figured out how to get from the floor to the top of the couch. 

I'm no longer bored. And to be honest, I'm starting to see what Mom was saying before she left. The bit about few people seeing the world from this angle. I feel like I have superpowers. Robbie Matheson: The Human Bouncy Ball. 

It's well into the afternoon when I decide to explore the rest of the house. Everything is weird and huge and odd-looking. The kitchen looks slightly less strange during the day, softened somewhat by the natural light streaming in through the windows. Dad's old study is filled with bookshelves, a veritable ladder for me at my current size. I make it up to the top of the desk, and see a picture of Mom that's as tall as I am. It's a photo taken when she and Dad were dating. She's young and cheerful, wearing some kind of peasant blouse and big 80s hair. I find myself admiring the curves hidden by the blouse, and slowly I realize that, while Mom was definitely well endowed as a twenty year old, she's gotten bigger since then. Much bigger. A wicked idea occurs to me. 




Hexed Ch. 01



In a trice I bound off the desk, rolling as I hit the ground. I leap across the room to the staircase that leads upstairs, and bounce my way up to the second floor. In a minute I've made it to Mom's room. I approach her short bureau with some trepidation. My palms are sweaty, and my cock is dripping. But it's always dripping lately, and I'm beginning to get used to it. 

I leap up onto the bureau. The big mirror gives me a shock, as I see myself at this size for the first time. I'm nearly nine inches tall, I guess, stark naked, plastered with sweat and other fluids. I don't look good, and framed against the size of the room I look freakish. Quickly I look away, before I get too depressed and lose my nerve. 

It's the work of long minutes to get a few drawers open. The top drawers hold socks and stockings and panties, and while those interest me, they're not my real goal. I'm hindered by trying not to leave pecker tracks everywhere I go, but my newly discovered agility is a considerable aid in this regard. 

Eventually I get the drawer open that I want, by balancing on the drawer above it and leaning over. I tug and tug, sliding around on my perch. I shouldn't be able to move that much mass (it's a much bigger drawer), but somehow I manage it. Once it's open about an inch, I'm able to wedge it open further, and drop inside. With my whole body as a lever, I get the drawer open all the way and stand up. 

Bras. Bras as far as the eye can see. Enormous, with cups large enough for me to curl up in. Some plain and practical, some lacy and delicate, all of them with underwire support to contain Mom's massive mammaries. I pick up the nearest bra and flip it over. It's plain and purple. Immediately her scent washes over me. I breathe in deeply. My cock twitches. I try to focus and find the tag. When I finally do, my eyes fairly bug out of my face. Mom wears a 38F bra. I had no idea. She must have these things custom made. My God... they're enormous. Bigger than I imagined, bigger than anything I'd expect to see on a real woman even while regular size. At Mom's present effective height...

... unconsciously, I've been stroking my cock, and within moments I am spraying the inside of the bra cup with my seed. I leave an unmistakable gelid mess that drips down the interior of the cup and pools at the bottom. For once I'm thankful of the blueberry scent. When the euphoria from my orgasm subsides, I am suddenly awash in terror. What happens when she finds this? I'm dead. I am so dead. 

I grab the bra and leap out of the drawer. With practiced leaps, I manage to get the other drawers closed by bodyslamming them. Then I grab the soiled bra again and leap towards Mom's hamper. With effort, I flip the top open and jam the bra inside, doing my best to drag clothes over it and hide it. I leap down and bound away, trying in my shame and worry to get back to the couch as soon as possible. I'm halfway down the stairs before I realize that I manhandled all that clothing more adeptly than I handled my own the night before. Am I getting stronger, or just more used to my size? I chalk it off to shock and hurry to the couch. 

That's where Mom finds me when she finally makes it home. 

4. 

I have some stupid sitcom on when I hear the backdoor opening. I didn't even hear her car. "Hi honey, I'm home!" Mom calls from the kitchen. I let myself relax. It could have been anybody at the back door -- and sudden abject terror gripped me at the thought of Clark finding me like this. I don't know why. He seems like a nice enough guy. But still. I don't want anyone seeing me like this, but especially not another dude. 

I hear Mom setting her bags on the kitchen table. She appears over the back of the couch. She surveys the mess I've left on the towels and shakes her head. But she's smiling. In fact, she looks downright cheerful. And incredibly gorgeous. Her cheeks are bright, her eyes playful. 

"I see my little man has been keeping himself busy." She leans down over the back of the couch and easily catches me. For a moment I think about leaping away, but decide to keep that talent a secret for now. I'm not sure if Mom is aware of that ability yet. Besides, ashamed as I am to admit it, I like it when she holds me. She cups one hand under my butt and the other behind my back to keep me steady. I reach out and balance myself by holding her thumbs. 

"That thing never goes down, does it?" she says. She said that earlier in the day, too, and the effect is still largely the same. My whole body turns red, eliciting a throaty laugh from Mom. "Six orgasms in an eight hour period, and you're still raging and ready to go. Maybe I should market those pies, they're clearly better than Viagra."

I risk a glance over my shoulder at the mess I've left on the towels. How could Mom guess from that the exact number of times I jacked off? Especially since one of them wasn't anywhere near the couch. 

"Come on," Mom says. "You stink of blueberries. And I need a shower before I make dinner." Despite myself, my dick throbs at the possibilities inherent in those two sentences, and Mom chuckles throatily again. 

Mom nonchalantly carries me up the stairs, all but cradled to her impressive bosom. I get lost a little bit contemplating the line of cleavage as it disappears beneath the collar of her blouse. There's just something about that separation between breasts that drives me crazy. I barely hear her talking about her day. Something about that important meeting in the afternoon being difficult to get through, and how unsettled she was in the morning. Worried about me, I guess, although she doesn't quite say that. Still, the implication is that I'm involved, or at least, "what I had gotten up to."

We sweep into Mom's room. I peak guiltily at the hamper, but she doesn't seem to notice. She pauses at the low bureau for a moment, but if I left anything out of place, she doesn't say. 

Mom sets me down on the marble top of her long, low sink. The huge mirror forces me to realize just how great the disparity is between us. I'm tiny. She's huge. Paradoxically, my dick gives another excited little throb. I hope Mom doesn't see, although when I look up into the reflection of her eyes, she's clearly admiring the size difference as well. Beneath her lightly applied rouge, her cheeks are flushing. 

There are two sinks, as well as a large accoutrement of beauty aids, unguents, lotions, soaps, creams, and so on, spread across the marble. There's a gigantic hairdryer and hair curler down by the wall. I don't want to go anywhere near those. Long, loose black hairs are everywhere. 

Mom turns on the faucet at the nearest sink, testing the water to make sure it's neither too warm nor too cold. I give her a questioning look, and she smiles warmly. "The tub is a little too big for you, I think." As the sink fills with water, I'm forced to agree with her. It looks like a private pool. Mom pours some bubble bath liquid into the water and it starts to foam up. She contemplates the huge slab of soap by the faucet knob, but decides to give me some softsoap. 

"Hold out your hands," she says. I dutifully do, and she squeezes the top, sending a streamer of soap into my cupped palms. Unselfconsciously, I start lathering up my chest and arms and shoulders. Mom watches for a moment, then looses a deep sigh and turns to go. 

"Hey," I hear myself say. "Where are you going?"

"Um... to clean up the living room and give you some privacy."

I shrug in what I hope is a nonchalant manner. My stomach is a nest of adders at this point, but my horniness gives me courage. "I thought you were going to take a shower."

Those pretty eyebrows arch upward. "With you in the room? I hardly think so."

"Well, gosh Mom, you've seen everything I've got. Here I am rocking out with my cock out, in my birthday suit. It's hardly fair."

She is silent for a long while, looking at me. I'm trying not to breathe too heavily, but I fear I've gone too far. I stop rubbing soap into my skin, primarily because at this point I have to go south of the border, and that could set off an explosion. 

Finally, Mom opens her full lips. "Robbie," she says slowly, "I am your..." but she trails off. A sort of hungry look comes into her big, beautiful gray eyes. It should frighten me, that look, but instead it makes me bolder. 

I put my hands on my length and start to slowly soap it up. Mom sucks in a shuddering breath and kind of shivers. 

"Do you... do you have any idea what you are suggesting?" I nod slowly. "Are you prepared for what might happen?" I think a moment. I nod again. 

Mom smiles suddenly, a broad and shining smile that makes my heart skip a beat. It's as though some inner debate has been argued and settled. She relaxes. And begins to undress. She does it slowly, neither sensuously nor businesslike, but in a measured manner. 

Mom unbuttons her cuffs. She starts unbuttoning her blouse, and as her hands move down the shirt, she tugs a bit, untucking it from her skirt. With the shirt loose on her, she reaches up and takes off her earrings, setting them down on the sink by my feet. Her necklace is next, the chain settling into a pool of gold by the earrings. 

Mom's smile broadens and she shrugs her shoulders, sending the blouse off of them. A slight movement of her arms and the garment slides free, falling lightly to the floor. And her magnificent breasts are visible, all but overflowing over a simple modest black bra. 

Mom unsnaps her skirt and shimmies it down her long, long legs. Her stockings are black, with a sexy lace border at the top. I see her garters and hose, and framed between them, a pair of black high-cut panties that mold tightly against her sex. It's not my imagination either -- the gusset is soaking wet, stained an even darker black around her hidden pussy. 

There's no pretense about what I'm doing now. I'm not washing my dick, I am jerking myself off while I ogle my own mother. This is so very, very wrong, but I can't help myself. I try to blame the hex. Maybe it's even responsible. She did call it an aphrodisiac.

Mom unhooks her garter belt and the tapes, and slides it down her legs. She finally kicks off her pumps, adding them to the growing pile on the floor. Still watching me, she puts one twenty-five foot pin up on the edge of the tub and slowly winds her left stocking down to her foot and peels it off. She repeats the process with the right leg, but this time she puts a little "oomph" into it, sliding her hand across the material to make it whisper before she removes it. 

Mom stands up in front of me, naked except for bra and panties. She could be in a bikini, but we both know that's not the case. Were there any flaws in her form, they would be revealed. But there's nothing. No blemish in her skin, no cellulite, hardly an ounce of fat. She's perfect. Her belly is smooth, her belly button an innie, and her stomach has just a little bit of a pouch as it descends into her pubis. 

Mom is beaming. I guess my adoration is unmistakable. Precum drips in copious amounts from the end of my soapy cock, making a puddle on the marble. 

"One of the first things I used my magic on was my body," Mom says quietly, as if she's embarrassed to admit it. "I hope you like it."

I groan. "Mom, you look amazing." My voice is hoarse, almost a croak, but if anything, Mom's smile widens. 

She reaches behind her back, and I hear her bra strap unsnap. She holds the cups with one hand and lowers the shoulder straps, pulling her sixteen foot long arms through them, until she is only protected by the thin bits of fabric that she is holding up herself. 

Then she drops it. 

Mom's gigantic tits bounce and jiggle a bit as they settle on her chest, free from all support. Breasts that massive should hang further than they do, but gravity has only a slight hold on them. They are high and proud and full, round and firm milky white, with gigantic strawberry pink areolas that are each a yard in diameter, crowned by erect pink nipples. In a word: magnificent. Enormously magnificent. Her tits are nearly as big as I am, and just perfectly shaped and beautiful. Obviously the biggest tits I've ever seen, but they're also the prettiest and most spectacular pair I've ever laid eyes upon.

I should probably have better control, but at that point the inevitable happens. The first arc of cum from the tip of my cock sprays across the marble top and the intervening space and actually splatters across Mom's belly. In an instant, her right hand is beneath me, cupped to catch my spray as it empties out of me, pulse by pulse. Her huge tits sway with her movement, and it looks so tremendous that my heart stops beating for just a moment. Mom is shuddering and shaking a bit, her hand bobbing before me, and her upper teeth are rubbing sensuously against her bottom lip. I squirt over and over. Loud splat-splat sounds echo from Mom's palm as my flood pours out, over and over. 

Finally I fall backward on my heels, gasping, soap and sweat and other fluids streaming from me. Mom smiles sweetly. She contemplates the mess in her hand, and seems to hesitate a moment before turning on the other sink to wash my spend away. 

"Well," she says. Her eyes are shining, and the skin on the upper slopes of her breasts is flushed. Her right hand flutters in the direction of her soaked panties for a moment, but quickly rises back up above her waist. "That was quite a show for both of us, I guess."

She reaches toward me and gently nudges me into the bubble bath filled sink. "Clean up, sweetie. I'll do the same, and then we'll have dinner. Okay?"

No. No, definitely not "okay." With my orgasm over, my mind somewhat clear again, I am once more consumed by guilt and feeling a little sick. 

I slide into the sink. The water has cooled in the interim, but it's warm enough. Mom turns around, pulls the shower curtain back and starts the water. Without looking back at me, she peels her panties off, sliding them down her legs. She bends her knees to keep her happy place hidden, but I get a beautiful view of her plush, springy, enormous backside. Lust thunders back into my system. Taboos be damned. 

I watch with admiration as my mother climbs into the shower, and pulls the curtain closed behind her. The light yellow curtain is largely opaque, but I can seem Mom's curvy silhouette through it as she stretches out beneath the shower spray. 

I find my feet on the bottom of the sink, allowing me to stand about chest deep in the water, and begin to wash myself as best I can. And I watch as Mom soaps her loufa and scrubs every inch of her magnificent body. 

I climb out of the sink when I'm done and sit as best I can, admiring the view. To my dismay, when the shower is over, Mom reaches through the curtain to grab a towel, and when she finally emerges, she is securely wrapped in terrycloth. 

I watch bemused as she leaves for the bedroom. I say nothing, as there is a troubled expression on her face. I myself should feel more troubled than I do. A function of the hex, I suppose. 

A thought occurs to me. Why is Mom acting this way? The spell only affected me, didn't it? I ponder this while I wait for her. I could easily jump down from the sink and stroll or bounce into the bedroom to watch her dress, but I hold myself back. For one, I still don't yet wish to reveal my agility, and for another, I want to try to respect her privacy. Particularly given what I did in the afternoon. 

At length, Mom returns. She's dressed in a loose, blue button down shirt. The tails obscure her thighs and what, if anything, she is wearing beneath. The top is unbuttoned almost to her waist, revealing a bright pink tank top underneath. I don't think she is wearing a bra, given the way her own tanks roll and sway beneath the fabric. 

Mom holds out her left hand at the edge of the marble counter. "Are you hungry?" she asks. Her voice is light, or as light as her husky, altered giantess voice can get. "I'm famished."

When I hesitate, she gestures with her right hand, and at last I take the step off the counter into her palm. My feet sink into her skin a little, and she steadies me with her other hand. I lean back into her right hand and spread my arms for support, unintentionally showing off the goods. Mom giggles uncertainly. Her nervousness somehow makes me relax a little bit. Knowing that she is as weirded out by all this as I am makes me more comfortable. 

Mom carries me back downstairs, one eye on where she is going, and the other watching me. I make no effort to disguise my admiration of her mammoth bosom. 

At last we reach the kitchen, and Mom sets me down on the island.

5. 

Mom starts taking out pans and pots, a box of pasta, a piece of chicken, some peppers and onions. She dices meat and vegetables, boils water, pours the pasta in to let it cook. Drizzles olive oil in the pan and fries up the chicken and vegetable in it, adding a few pinches of things to enhance the taste. While she cooks, we talk.

"So I told Clark about what happened."

Sudden surge of panic, unavoidable. "What?" I blurt out. 

She hastens to reassure me. "Just the part about you eating the pie, not the, well, you know. Don't worry, he agreed to keep away until I tell him it's safe to visit. He is, well, acquainted with the particular vulnerability you must be feeling. Shall we say."

"So you and him...?" 

Mom coughs daintily, blushing a little. "Well, yes, of course. Who else do you think I'd let eat the other pieces of pie? Its harmless fun, normally. Just lasts a little while, and we both enjoy the change in size... and shift in power."

Okay, well, I don't really need to know this kind of stuff. Mom looks at me over her shoulder. "Are you jealous, Robbie?"

I think for a moment. "No," I finally admit. "I suppose not."

Mom nods. "Good. You have nothing to be jealous about. He's my boyfriend, but you're my son. You will always come first for me." She sets down the spatula in her hand and steps toward the island. She puts a hand down near where I'm sitting, sort of half-cupping me. "However," she continues, "I don't want the reverse to be true. Whatever... happens... and I'm not saying anything will, or, I guess, anything more will happen, but... whatever happens, you need to find some girl of your own and get married. I expect grandchildren some day."

I flush. "Mom, I don't... I mean, that, that's not even really a concern right now. I'm 22! I haven't found the right girl yet." Have I?

Mom retreats. "Okay, that's fine. I was settled down by the time I was your age, but that doesn't have to be the case with you." She returns to the stove. 

To change the subject, I say, "So Clark is okay with the magic and the shrinking and what have you?"

"Oh, sure. How do you think we met? Clark's an occultist, like me. I suppose you'd call him a warlock, but we're really all just witches."

"I had no idea... how long have you been a witch?"

"Oh, not too long. After your dad died and you moved away to college, I had to do something with myself. I tried hobbies and book groups and things. Knitting, gardening, etc. Actually, it was the gardening that got me into herbalism and then into potions and magic and so on. I dabbled for a few years, and only cast my first successful spell a few months ago, right around the time you left for Australia.

"It was slow going at first, but once you figure out how to convert energy into mass and mass into energy, it's really a snap."

"Mom, that's insane."

"Yes, I suppose." Mom begins to set the table. She puts out a large plate for herself, as well as silverware and a wine glass. She puts a small plate in my spot, and adds a small cup filled with toothpicks and a shot glass which she turns over. 

"You're violating physical laws. Thermodynamics, Mom! They're not just theories!" I don't know why this bothers me so much. I really am not a scientist.




Hexed Ch. 01



Mom shrugs and smiles. "Remember when you explained your computer games to me? Like, when some level was too tough for you, you'd use a cheat code to get past the tough part?"

I nod.

"Well, think of magic as the cheat codes to reality. And don't think I'm some kind of will-worker or full blown wizard or something. The stuff I do is generally temporary, and I don't meddle in things that I don't understand. Usually." She pours herself some wine and sips it before returning to the island.

Mom makes a ledge with her hand for me once again. I step on. She carries me to the table and sets me down. "You can use the shot glass as a stool, if you want," she says. She points at my rampant erection and adds, "That's going to be very distracting during dinner." She hands me a napkin. "Just cover yourself up a bit, please."

I comply, wrapping the napkin around my waist like a towel. I have to adjust it higher so that it covers my dick, and precum leaks into the paper almost immediately. But at least I'm covered. 

Mom starts putting food on plates, giving me only a little bit. "The only semi-permanent changes I've made are to my own body, and mostly all I did was convert my extra mass into healthier tissue. I cleaned up my skin, made my boobs a little bigger," and here she pauses to cup one of her massive tits, "fixed my vision, tightened up a few areas, y'know, rotated the tires and so on. 

"But even that's mostly cosmetic. I can't extend my lifespan indefinitely, just make sure I'm healthier than I otherwise would be while I'm here. Exercise and a good diet do the rest." She's nonchalant about it, but she really has transformed herself into something unbelievably gorgeous and sexy and vibrant.

"Could you do that sort of thing for anyone?"

Mom picks up a fork and scoops up some food. It makes me slightly queasy, seeing her easily manipulate what amounts to a battering ram or pike to me, and I have to look away at my own meager plate. I take a toothpick and spear some chicken. "What do you mean?" she says. I hear a playfulness in her voice. "When you get bigger, do you want to keep that epic cock between your legs?"

I nearly choke on my food. Mom ignores my discomfort. "Because I have to tell you honey, at normal size, something like that could hurt somebody." She makes an indistinct noise, which draws my eyes back to her. There's a dreamy, far away look on her face. "Although it would be fun to try it out..."

"Mom!"

"Well, theoretically. If you weren't my son, you understand."

"And, uh, what else would you do if I weren't your son?" I say, looking intently at my plate. 

Mom is quiet. "And we're back to this again," she says eventually. "You shouldn't say things like that, Robbie, not when w -- when you're in the state that you're in."

I look up at her, into her big gray eyes. "I'm not the only one in a state, am I, Mom?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Mom." She's never been good at lying to me. 

She sighs, looks down at her plate, pushes food around with a fork almost as long as I am tall. "Okay, so you've figured it out. You and I are linked through the pie you ate. I've been walking around for the past day and a half just as aroused as you are, although I thought I'd been hiding it better." 

"Huh."

"Yeah, well, it gets worse." She sighs again, looks up at me. "Every time you... well, every time you orgasm, so do I. Little ones mostly, but a couple in a row add up to big ones. You set one off in the middle of the meeting today, which made things a little awkward."

"Holy shit." It's all I can say. I mean, I suspected, but to have her confirm it... Mind = blown. 

"So you can see the kind of trouble we could get into. Have gotten into. Neither one of us is thinking straight."

"Can you blame me, Mom? I mean, look at you."

She blushes, laughs uncomfortably. I'm about to make her more uncomfortable, but maybe I'll kick this thing to the next level. I'm hardly aware of what I've decided to do even as I do it. 

I stand up. I pull the napkin away from me. My distended cock hangs downward, pointing like a divining rod in Mom's direction. She watches me, frowning slightly, but clearly curious. I pick up the shot glass and flip it over. My stool becomes a bucket. I take my cock in both hands and begin to stroke. I look Mom in the eyes while I do. 

Her eyes get bright, her cheeks flushed. Her hands flutter beside her plate. "What do you think you're doing, young man?" She could stop me, easily. But she doesn't.

I don't answer. I just keep tugging away, watching her, thinking about her enormous size, her perfect shape, her magnificent breasts and long, long legs. Her full lips part and she pants slightly. The eyes are glazing over. I'm beginning to crest. Mom's eyes roll back and she shakes in her seat, rattling her silverware, shaking the table under my feet. Somehow I maintain my balance and aim my erupting cock into the shot glass. I cum and cum and cum, spraying my seed for the umpteenth time that day. Slowly the shot glass begins to fill. 

Mom comes down, breathing heavily. Her tits lurch enticingly in her tank top. "That was very inappropriate, Robbie," she says. 

My cock is still hard, of course. I wipe the cockhead on the edge of the glass, squeezing the last bits into the receptacle. And I start jacking again. Mom moans, a sound that sends a pleasant shiver down my back. "You shouldn't do this," she says, but her protest is a weak one. I watch, still manipulating myself, as one of Mom's hands drifts below the table. 

Suddenly I feel a phantom caress on the length of my cock, as if someone else is touching me, but only my hands are connected. Is Mom teasing the folds of her pussy? The thought of her yet unseen treasure is enough in my current state to trigger my second orgasm. The amount of semen I generate does not flag, and I add another generous amount to the bucket. Three quarters of the way full. 

"Oh, Robbie," Mom moans as she rides her own climax. She cups a generous breast through shirt and tank top, while her other hand is busy under the table. The wine glass jumps a little. I'm barely doing anything now, as Mom's masturbatory manipulations create phantom sensations across my length. I'm erupting in no time at all, unleashing another torrent of pearly white, viscous fluid. By this time, what I am expelling is thick and creamy, and the sensation as it erupts from the end of my rod is hard to describe, but mind-blowing. All I smell is blueberries. The table shakes like an earthquake beneath me. I almost lose my footing, but my newfound agility keeps me upright. Cum sloshes around the edge of the glass onto the table top. 

Mom's eyes are half-lidded and glazed with lust. She releases a shuddering breath. "You naughty, naughty, naughty boy." Still cupping her breast, her other hand comes up from beneath the table, glistening with fluid. She gives me a gentle poke with her forefinger, leaving a glistening trail on my chest. 

Mom picks up the shot glass filled with my cum. She contemplates it with her sleepy-eyed gaze. She brings it to her lips and tips it backwards. The liquid pours into her mouth, down her throat. Mom swallows greedily, moaning as she does. She watches me over the rim of the glass as I watch her throat work. 

My own mouth has dropped open. I'm speechless, consumed with twisted, taboo lust. 

Mom sets the empty shot glass back on the table. Her huge pink tongue swipes a trail of creamy cum off her bottom lip. 

Mom leans forward. "Well now," she says in that husky, giantess voice of hers. "What shall we do with the rest of our evening?"



Hexed Ch. 02



This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 or older. This story features my usual themes of Oedipal incest, exaggerated bodies, and copious fluids. 

6. 

Dinner is forgotten. Mom scoops me up unceremoniously and strides purposefully through the house, up the stairs to her bedroom. She holds me purposefully at boob level, allowing me to watch as her prodigious curves roll and swell within the confines of her tank top. 

"That was probably the worst thing you could have done, Robbie," Mom says above me. I hold on to her thumbs for dear life as she glides through the house. "Your mother is a bit of a cumfiend, you see. That's why I wrote that little variation in the hex that gives the subject such a large manhood, and correspondingly increased volume of issue.

"I'm afraid I just can't help myself after that little display. I think you feel the same, but honestly, if you asked me to stop at this point, I'm not sure I could." She smiles hungrily, sexily. "Not that you could stop me, either."

I look up, past Mom's breasts, into her face, and I know, because I know my Mom, that despite what she's saying, one word from me would indeed halt what I think is about to happen. I don't say anything, though. I'm not sure I'm capable of speech at this moment. I'm still a little shell-shocked from watching my Mom down a shot glass filled to the brim with my cum. Shell-shocked, and incredibly aroused. 

So I nod. 

Mom releases a long-held breath, which ruffles my hair. We are at the threshold to her bedroom. Mom licks her lips and bats her eyelashes, bites a little into her lower lip. We enter her bedroom. 

Mom turns on lights and stands holding me before the large mirror over her bureau. She turns me around, so that we're both looking at the two of us, at the extreme difference in our sizes. My rampant erection, dripping precum, is clearly visible, as are the hard points of Mom's nipples through her tank top. 

"Are you prepared for this, son? Are you ready to make love to a fifty foot tall woman? Do you really think you can handle this?"

I take a deep breath. Release it. "Yes," I say. "Very much yes."

Mom laughs, and we whirl around, which makes me dizzy. Mom sets me on the edge of her huge bed. It looks as large as a soccer field, and my feet sink into the comforter on top. I look up and up at Mom. She steps back from the bed a bit, regarding me through her heavy lidded eyes.

Mom unfastens the few remaining buttons in her shirt and lets it slip off her shoulders. The tank top looks two sizes too small, molding tightly to her skin, forcing her humongous tits into prominence. The straps cut into the skin of her shoulders, and the bottom of the shirt stops just below her belly button, leaving a delicious expanse of bare flesh that stretches down to the top of the hot pink panties she wears. 

The panties are high cut on her broad hips. The front is soaking wet and molded to the shape of her pussy. I can smell her from where I stand on the bed, a sweet, salty scent of lust that makes my dick throb eagerly. For the first time, the logistics of the size of my body vs. the size of her vagina gives me pause, but before I can complete the thought, Mom distracts me. 

She grabs the bottom of the tank top and peels it upward, removing it entirely in one smooth movement. Those magnificent breasts are revealed again, every inch perfect and beautiful and full and round. They bob and bounce with her movements, hard nipples moving hypnotically at their centers. I expect to see her sweep the panties off too, but instead Mom bends at the waist, catching herself with her hands on the edge of the bed. 

Her huge tits hang like fruit from her chest, swinging playfully before me. Mom's long black hair hangs down over my head. Slowly she advances, one knee coming up onto the bed, forcing her body to rise up and over me. I stagger backwards on the uneven footing, somehow managing to keep my balance as her beautiful breasts sway overhead. 

I scurry backwards, keeping Mom's breasts in view, as her whole body settles onto the bed. The mattress groans underneath me, shifting under my feet. Mom suddenly moves, quick and cat-like, lowering her body so that her massive right tit swings into me and bowls me over. I land on my ass on the downy comforter, slightly dazed from both the force of the impact and by the touch of her skin against mine. 

With me still flat on my back, Mom lowers her breast right onto me. The hard nubbin of her nipple presses into my belly, while the rest of her soft, supple breastflesh rolls over me. My cock shudders as it connects with her skin, leaving trails of precum on her table-sized areola. I wrap my arms around her breast, grabbing handfuls of soft flesh to squeeze and knead as best I can. My hips thrust against her, pushing my cock harder into her breast. 

Above me, all but invisible behind her boob, I hear Mom laughing lightly. She bounces a little, knocking me back into the comforter and mattress, her hard nipple poking me in the gut. My cock flexes and rubs against her skin. I feel those phantom touches caress its length, just lightly, but definitely there. 

Mom rises up, giving me a chance to catch my breath. But it lasts only a moment, as she switches breasts. Her gigantic left breast, which may actually be slightly larger than the right one, settles over me. Her nipple just barely misses squashing my balls, instead pressing into the comforter between my legs. "Watch it!" I shout, my voice garbled by a mouth full of breastflesh. Mom repositions, and her nipple finds its target, jabbing me in the gut again. The edge of her strawberry pink areola is in my vision, and I start to lick along its arc. I'm not sure if she feels my little tongue. 

I feel Mom's fingers slide under me, pressing into my back. She rises again, this time holding me against her tit. Instinctively I wrap arms and legs around her mammary. Her breast is so large and full that almost my entire body covers it. 

Mom's fingers fall away, all but one, which slides down my back to press firmly and insistently against my ass. "Fuck my tit," she commands. Her finger urges me to comply, pushing me into her breast. 

Jesus Christ. I hardly need her holding me there. My hips start thrusting all on their own, and I hammer my cock into Mom's silky soft breastflesh again and again. Her broad nipple flattens against my stomach as I drive forward over and over again. The head of my cock is trapped between my breastbone and Mom's breast, sawing between them as I jam myself against her. Precum coats my chest and her skin, smeared by my frantic movements. Mom keeps pushing, lightly to keep from hurting me, letting me do most of the work. Her huge breast slowly sways and bounces beneath me as Mom's body movies. It's like having sex with a waterbed. Not on, with. Albeit a waterbed that is warm and soft and smells like an aroused, gigantic woman.

Phantom touches along the length of my thrusting cock make me imagine Mom's other hand thrust deep between her legs, fingers almost as long as my legs teasing her pink, moist folds. I feel the charge build at the base of my cock, as the unstoppable urge to cum rises and rises and rises. I try to pull my body backward to aim my cock at Mom's breast, but she holds me pinned against her. My cock lurches, bucks, and I feel the load travel along its engorged length and erupt from the slit. I turn my head, but still get sprayed along the side of my chest, throat and cheek. Another epic load explodes out of me, thick and creamy, coating Mom's breast and my body as it pours out of me. Mom relaxes her hold slightly after the first few pulses.

Her right hand, slick with her own juices, comes up and her forefinger lies against the top of my cock, pinning it to her tit as it sprays and sprays and sprays its load, coating Mom's areola and nipple in a creamy glaze of spunk. When my flood at last subsides, Mom's forefinger sweeps along the length, as if to squeeze out the last few drops. The finger continues up her tit, spreading the pool of cum around on her breast. With a throaty giggle, Mom presses me into the mess. I have just enough time to turn my head and close my eye, but I'm coated in my own spunk. 

Could be worse, I guess. At least it smells like blueberries. 

Mom lifts me up in the palm of her hand, up over her head. I'm dripping, my chest, cock, thighs, and the left side of my face coated with my own semen. I fight the urge to gag. 

"Poor baby," Mom says. "But you'll like this part, I promise."

I look down her long arm, into her eyes, and she opens her mouth wide, licking her lower lip with her huge, pink tongue. She brings me lower, wagging the tip of her tongue at me playfully, sensuously, and then brings me to her lips. 

Her tongue extends, and swipes a trail across my entire body, cleaning the cum from me, and leaving bubbles of saliva in its place. I start to laugh, despite myself. I am slightly ticklish, and her tongue hits me in a sensitive spot. This starts Mom chuckling, which shakes my body. She starts to lick me all over, cleaning up every drop of spunk from my body. She pays special attention to my distended cock, sweeping her flexible, sensitive tongue up and down its length, teasing my sensitive balls. 

She plants a kiss on the side of my face, sucking lightly, vacuuming up the cum on my cheek and hair. She sucks a foot into her mouth, and teases my toes with her tongue. This too is ticklish, and I tug it quickly out of her mouth. Mom is amused. She kisses my chest, pressing my cock against my belly with her lips. She kisses my hips, rotates me, and plants a wet one on my ass. When her tongue starts to nudge between my cheeks, I kick a little and shout, "Cut that out!" 

Mom instantly retreats. "Sorry," she says. "Got excited."

"I can tell," I say, rolling over in her hand. 

Mom holds me out a bit from her, arm flexed to keep me above her chest, about head level. I look down, admiring her massive chest, and the smears of jism I deposited on her left tit. Mom's right hand comes up, cups her breast, teases the nipple a little, and scoops up a trail of cum with her forefinger. She brings it to her mouth and sucks on it, cleaning it. She does this twice more, cleaning herself of the evidence of my explosion and incidentally putting more steel in my rod. 

Mom licks her lips. "Ready for more?"

I give my hips a little thrust and smile eagerly. She brings me to her mouth again. Her lips press against my cockhead, giving it a little kiss. Mom's lips part, her hand pushes forward, and I slide into her mouth. Her plush lips close around the base of my cock, catching up my swollen balls between them. I feel her lips on my thighs and belly, and wrap my arms around her cheeks, looking directly into her left eye, as she has to rotate me a little to keep her nose from crushing my chest. 

Her breath washes over me as she begins to gently suck. My cock shivers between her lips, and I feel her tongue teasing the head as it slides back in forth in her mouth. I push my hips, thrusting forward. Mom's palm cradles me gently as I begin to fuck her face. My cock and crotch and waist are drenched in her saliva in moments, and it drips down my legs, mixing with the copious amounts of precum that I am practically spraying into her mouth. Mom moans, the vibrations rattling my chest. The physical sensation of her mouth and tongue are joined by the phantom sensation that tells me she is teasing her pussy with her fingers. 

I can't possibly last long doing this, and I don't. In a handful of heartbeats, I lunge forward as far as I can and feel my cock lurch between Mom's full lips and begin jettisoning its payload into her mouth. Her own orgasm crests as mine does, but she keeps me steady as her body shakes and shudders beneath me. My fingers sink into her cheeks as my whole body contracts, as if I'm emptying my whole insides into her mouth. My cock throbs hard as each creamy jet splatters across Mom's tongue. 

This is beyond pleasure, into a realm undreamt of. I'm not sure I ever want to get bigger. 

Finally I subside, the last few dregs of my orgasm squirting out onto Mom's tongue. She pulls me out, a thin strand of fluid connecting lips to cock for a moment before she smiles at me. She opens her mouth, lets me see the creamy load floating on her tongue, and then noisily gulps it down. The view of her gullet sends a frisson of fear down my back, but only briefly. Lust is all-consuming at this point. 

"Mmmm," Mom says, "tasty."

"Happy to oblige, ma'am," I say, more than a little breathless. Mom smiles broadly. She drags her tongue across my body once more.

The world suddenly spins. My stomach lurches. For a moment I fear something horrible is happening, but then I realize that Mom has simply shifted on the bed. 

She rolls over and lies down on her back, reclining against the pillows that nestle against the headboard. She sets me face down between her breasts, within the cavernous valley of her cleavage. I lay there for a moment, reveling in the feel and smell and taste of her, and then I rise up on hands and knees. Mom cranes her neck to look at me, almost cross-eyed. I feel her body move beneath me, and the walls of flesh at my side begin to close around me. 

Quickly I roll over and stretch out. Her breasts push against me, soft and firm at once, and I can see Mom's huge hands manipulating her nipples as she directs her tits to buffet me. I bounce happily between them, spreading sweat and precum against her flesh, and then suddenly she pulls them away and sort of bumps her chest. I slide down from her cleavage onto her smooth, flat belly. 

I watch as Mom raises both of her long, toned legs into the air. Her hands slide past me down her belly and find the waist band of her panties. Her fingers slip under it and begin to roll them down. Her pelvis rises, and I hear something like a sucking sound and she pulls her panties free from her crotch. 

I catch my first glimpse of Mom's pussy, a neatly trimmed patch of black hair that glistens with moisture. 

In one smooth, quick movement, Mom pulls her panties free, and I watch as they glide up her legs, over her dainty feet, and are cast off the side of the bed. 

Mom's legs slowly lower and spread, her hands on her thighs, fingers rubbing her pale skin lightly. I rise to my feet, balancing awkwardly on Mom's belly, and turn to look back at her face, framed between the mammoth hills of her breasts. Once again I am struck by her size, her beauty, her sheer femininity. She really is a goddess, a goddess of love and lust. 

She smiles at me and nods, her cheeks flush and her eyes glazed with hunger and need. "Go ahead, sweetie. You want to, and I want you to."

On suddenly weak, trembling legs I approach the prize, striding across the expanse of her flat belly, over her cute belly button, and down the slope of her pubis towards her crotch. She is wet. Soaking wet. Beads of moisture form on her neatly trimmed bush, glistening in the lamplight. Below, she is shaved, revealing the pink folds of her enormous pussy, open and inviting. I can see the pink button of her clitoris, peaking out from beneath its fleshy hood. It's about the size of a bowling ball, and begging to be touched. The scent is overwhelming, enticing, sweet as sugar and salty as the sea. It makes my cock throb between my legs and my balls swell with seed. 

I climb down to the surface of the bed, using Mom's hand and thighs as a ladder. Her pussy is beautiful. I look down at my cock, and know that even at its enhanced size, it's not going to do the trick. 

As if reading my mind, Mom says, "Don't worry about it sweetie." Her hand pushes gently but insistently against my back, urging me forward. "Whatever you do is going to feel fantastic."

With a light step I approach, and lay my hands against her lips. She hitches and gasps at my touch, and I grow bolder. My hands caress every inch of her steaming pussy, teasing and pressing, clutching and manipulating. I'm soaked to my wrists in moments. My cockhead brushes against her folds, and without preamble I slowly sink into them. Hot, wet, wonderful. I press my whole body against her, driving as deep as I can. I reach up and wrap my hands around her bulging clit, gripping lightly but forcefully, and begin to rub and tug it. 

Mom goes wild. Her thighs rise up around me, and her hips lift up off the bed, taking me with them. I unconsciously tighten my grip on her clit, which makes her cry out. 

Mom grabs me around the waist, pulling me out of her. I flail, my dick, coated with her juices, bouncing painfully around. Mom flips me over a little, and holding me rigid, presses my feet against the lips of her pussy. I sink into her up to the ankles. She pulls me out. Her other hand is free, fingers brushing against her clit. 

My arms are pinned at my sides. Panic rises in my chest. Mom is a little bit out of control. I look up at her, past her steaming pussy, across the expanse of her taut belly, through the canyon between her heaving breasts, at her beautiful face, contorted with lust and hunger. 

I gulp. I'm going in. Might as well enjoy it. 

Mom pushes me into her. I sink up to my thighs. Her juices drip over my balls and coat my cock as I slip deeper into her. Her grip shifts, her long fingers wrapping around my shoulders, to urge me even deeper. I sink in up to my chest before my feet hit something solid enough to stop me. My arms are free, and I brace myself on her slick lips. Her interior muscles and folds envelop me, expand and contract around me, caress every inch of my body. My cock is squeezed against my chest again, which is not really where I want it. Still, almost my entire body is soaking wet, warm, encased within my mother's vagina. My life is insane and wrong and wonderful.

With a combination of relatively gentle tugging and the contraction of her pussy walls, Mom manages to expel me. Almost immediately I am thrust back inside her, but it gives me the chance to reposition my dick, so that it is angled away from me. At first it's uncomfortable, even with the phantom sensations running up and down my length, but as soon as I sink into her depths, it gets better. I'm sort of fucking her with my cock, even as she's using my whole body to fuck herself. 

I should be screaming in terror, but instead I am having the time of my life. 

Mom uses me roughly, jabbing me into her folds again and again. Her hips keep swinging up into the air, even as I'm being driven into her depths. I start doing a modified dolphin kick inside her; despite my increased strength, my mass remains small, and hers quite massive, so I can't push too hard against her. Still, my movements are doing something, as I hear (and feel) her cry out my name. 

"Robbie! Fuck! Whatever it is you're doing, keep doing it!" her voice rises with each word and she trails off into a wordless sound. 

My cock wants to rebound onto my chest every time I am sucked out of Mom's colossal pussy, so I have to keep it aimed with one hand. With my other hand I reach out to her exposed clitoris, gently rapping it with a fist as I drive back into her. This sets off another series of cries, and in short order Mom's pussy contracts even harder around me, trapping me inside her, one arm pinned down, my body wedged into her pussy up to one shoulder, the other hand outside, pressing hard as I can against her clit. 

Her pussy contracts like a fist around me, squeezing hard, and her juices soak my body, leaking out of the seal around my chest to wash into my face and down my shoulders. The physical and phantom sensations are enough for me, and I ride the crest along with her, emptying my weapon with salvo after salvo into Mom's steaming depths. Despite the insanity of it all, I retain the presence of mind to keep rapping away at her clitoris, which extends both her pleasure and mine, until I think I might go insane, if I'm not already. 




Hexed Ch. 02



We both ride it out. I think I'm screaming something along with Mom, might be her name, or just one long moan that sounds like "Mom." It feels like my body knows where it is, and the amount of cum I'm generating at this moment all but dwarfs every previous orgasm I've had at this size. My cock jerks and bucks and expels jet after jet into Mom, over and over again, until it actually starts to feel raw and painful. Finally, I subside, and Mom drags my body, soaking wet and stained by our combined fluids, out of her dripping pussy. 

I am bruised and battered. I feel as though I have just run a marathon without any training, or been hit by a city bus. Such are the perils of making love to a fifty foot woman. 

Mom is gasping, breathless, eyes unfocused, skin flushed. But she's coming around. She carries me up to her chest cradled in both hands. "Oh, Robbie, my poor baby," she coos. "You made Mommy very happy. Oh yes you did."

I grunt something unintelligible. 

"And it looks like we finally tired out that beautiful muscle of yours." I crack an eyelid, and look down at my crotch. She's right. For the first time since eating that pie, my dick is flaccid.

"Huh," I manage to say. 

Mom releases a throaty giggle. "You've earned your rest, sweetie. But first I think we should clean you up."

Even after everything that has just happened, I assume a trip to the sink is in order. But no. My mother's agile tongue glides across my supine body, as she laps up semen and vaginal juices from my bruised body. Her touch is gentle, her smooth, muscular, moist tongue almost massages my weary muscles. She washes me meticulously, carefully, and I drift off into a dreamless sleep thanks to her ministrations. 

7. 

I wake up disoriented, fuzzy brained. I'm lying on something soft and pink that slowly rises and lowers and rumbles beneath me, while to my left and right rise tall pink walls. 

I blink, remember it all, and realize I am lying in Mom's cleavage, between her massive, gorgeous breasts. I am still sticky, mostly with saliva, but still some coital fluids. My body hurts all over, but it's a good hurt, like after a good workout. I stretch like a cat, and I feel strength returning to my flaccid member. It is slowly rising and stiffening, as if it was just waiting for me to awake. 

I turn around on my back and look up into Mom's smiling face. 

"Good morning sleepyhead," she says. 

"Is it morning already?" I croak. 

"No, just an expression. It's still early, actually, only a little after 10:00. You've been asleep for a few hours."

"Sorry," I mumble, suddenly embarrassed, though I don't know why. 

"Don't be. You're incredibly cute when you're sleeping. I've been admiring you."

"You didn't nap?"

"Oh, I dozed a little bit. After I cleaned you up I felt a little sleepy, but I couldn't let myself nod off completely. I wanted to stay with you, and I worry what would happen if we were both out. I could roll over and crush you."

I can't suppress a shiver. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Like I said, you're cute when you're asleep. Even your little snores are cute."

Slowly I rise to my feet, balancing myself on the slopes of Mom's breasts. Her eyebrows rise. 

"I see ALL of you is awake," she says with a giggle. 

I wag my hips a little, which sends my cock swinging around. "I can't help what you do to me," I said. 

"Flatterer," Mom says, pretending to be annoyed. But her hands come up behind and push me forward, and she plants a big wet kiss on my chest, followed by a leisurely lick up across my pecks, neck and right cheek. Instantly I am at full mast. 

Mom kisses her way down my body, starting with the side of my head, then my pecs, abs, and finally my cock. After kissing it, she swallows my cock and balls whole and sucks gently, licking me as I begin to thrust into her mouth. I ride her lips to a quick, perfunctory climax that deposits a modest load on her tongue. Once again she makes a show of swallowing it, eliciting equal parts of terror and arousal as I look down her gullet and watch her throat work. 

"Delicious," she says. Mom rolls over and sets me down on a pillow. She is suddenly serious, fine brows drawn into a frown. "This is probably a stupid question after your wake-up blowjob, but how are you doing with this? Are you okay? Do you mind the fact that your own mother is using you like a sexual toy?"

I try to match her serious look, but can't. Instead I smile and laugh. "You're using me? I don't think so." I clamber across the pillow to lay one of my tiny hands across Mom's cheek. "Look, this is beyond weird. I think reality went out the window the moment I started eating that pie. I'm nine inches or so tall. You're fifty feet from my perspective. The sex is going to be weird, no matter what you do or who you are. 

"But, y'know, I feel safe with you. I know you won't do anything that I don't want to do, and I know that you won't hurt me. Meanwhile, I'm hornier than a Frenchman in a Viking helmet, and honestly, you're the only person I could trust to help me deal with that right now."

I give Mom a peck on the lips that I hope she feels. "I guess I am okay with this. At least from this perspective. I don't know what will happen when I get back to full size – if I get back to full size – but right now I'm enjoying myself."

"Okay," Mom says. Despite her enormity, her voice is small. "I don't know what will happen when you're big again, but don't worry about it not happening. Trust me, I wouldn't let you stay that way."

I nod. I do know that, I'm not even sure why I said "if." Maybe because part of me kind of wants to stay small. 

"I love you honey, and I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." She smiles suddenly, like a beam of sunshine through a black cloud. "I am too."

"Good! I love you too, Mom."

Mom gives me a kiss on the chest, which staggers me and knocks me back on my ass on the pillow. Mom giggles. 

The bed lurches as she gets up. Parts of Mom's body lurch, too, which dominates my attention. I watch as she glides off the bed. "Stay here a sec," she says. She pads naked into her bathroom and shuts the door. I lie back on the pillow and admire the view while I can. 

A little while later I hear the shower start, and then switch over to the tub faucet, a rumbling roar of water. 

The door opens and Mom returns to bed. She towers over me, standing beside the bed, a human skyscraper, curvy and sensual and enormously beautiful. She reaches a hand down and extends a finger, using the pad of it to gently caress the length of my erect cock. "Ready for some more fun?"

I flex my cock, slapping the cockhead against her fingertip. "What do you have in mind?"

In answer, Mom scoops me up in a now familiar movement and carries me into the bathroom, cradled against her jiggling mammaries. Inside, she pauses again at the mirror, allowing both of us to admire the difference in our sizes. The glass is steamed, but we can both still make one another out. I still can't get over how big she is, or how intoxicating that bigness has become. Maybe she feels the same way about my size. She must, right?

Mom turns, allowing me to see the tub filled with water. It's a big tub, inset into the wall, with high marble walls, designed to accommodate my mom's taller than average body. From my perspective, it looks like an Olympic sized swimming pool. I imagine I can see curls of steam coming off the surface. Mom lifts one impossibly long leg and settles into the tub. The water level rises as her magnificent body slowly settles down into it. She is still holding me, and smiling devilishly. 

I give her a questioning look, and the smile widens. Mom lifts her arms up and gives me a little toss. I loose a small cry as I sail through the air away from her and smash into the water between her knees. The water is warm, not too hot, and the heat soaks into my tired muscles. I'm underwater only briefly, admiring the view of my mother's legs and pussy and belly beneath the water, before I kick myself back to the surface. I throw wet hair back and spit a streamer of water. 

Mom's huge breasts break the surface of the water, floating serenely like islands of flesh, crested by hard pink nipples. Beyond, her shoulders and head are dry, and she is smiling brightly. "I thought for sure you'd do a cannonball," she says. 

I wipe water off my face. "Kind of caught me by surprise, there."

"Oh, did I?" Mom laughs. She slides under the water, dunking her head, and a wave knocks me back towards the tub wall. I do a breaststroke to move back to where I was, and watch as Mom rises back out of the water, slicking her long black hair back from her face. Water streams down her cheeks. She wipes her eyes and flicks giant droplets of water across the tub. A foot rises out of the water to my right and rests against the cool metal of the faucet. 

Gamely, I start to swim my way across the pool of clear, warm water towards Mom. She waits serenely, watching me as I glide across the water's surface in a classic breaststroke. As I pass her raised knees, I dive under the water and continue towards her. The water is clear, the walls of the tub a pure glowing white, and my view is unobstructed. If anything, the water seems to magnify things, making Mom's epic proportions seem even larger than they are currently. Her cute pink vagina, decorated by the neatly trimmed tuft of hair just above, looms before me. I'd need scuba gear to do much more than admire it, so that's all I do, enjoying the view until my tiny lungs remind me that I need air. 

I surface, gasping, and tread water. I can see Mom's long left arm has snaked out, and her hand rests on the knee that breaks the surface. Her right arm lies below the water, and I watch as it glides across her submerged belly and her fingertips lightly graze her pussy lips. Mom's breasts jiggle a bit, setting off ripples in the water that are strong enough to make me bob. The phantom sensations stroke my cock as Mom abuses herself. It feels extra weird with the water flowing around me, and the necessary action to keep myself from sinking. 

I paddle towards Mom's left boob as her fingers go to work. She watches me through those half-lidded eyes, a sensual smirk turning up her full lips. 

Clumsily, I clamber aboard Mom's tit. My weight is enough to make it start sinking, but Mom's free hand is quickly there to cup and hold her breast in place. I stand up awkwardly. "I claim this land for Spain!" I declare loudly. Mom starts laughing, which topples me from my perch, and I land back in the water with a loud splash. 

Mom scoops me up and sets me back down on her breast, where I sprawl momentarily. I relish the feel of my rampant cock spearing into her soft, smooth skin, as her phantom ministrations insistently tug on me. 

"Is that all you can think of to do?" Mom asks.

I shake my head. I get up onto my knees at the edge of her areola. With both hands I reach out for her engorged nipple. Too big for me to get my mouth around at this size, but I can knead and tug and pull, which I proceed to do. Mom hisses as I go to work. Her free hand leaves her pussy and flies out of the water, sending warm spray across my back. Her fingers find and tweak her right nipple, duplicating my efforts on the other breast. I feel sweat break out on my forehead. I'm just trying to pinch and pull as hard as I can, and it appears to be just hard enough. 

Water sloshes around the tub as Mom's hips jab. Her free hand goes away again, returning to her pussy. I risk a glance over the side of her breast, and see fingers disappearing into her gash. My cock shivers in response. I release the nipple and lean backward, shifting my grip to my cock. With a few of my own strokes added to Mom's, I am on the verge in a moments. Awkwardly, I make it to my feet and point the head of my cock at Mom's nipple as I unload. My cum is thick and creamy, and jets out of my cock in long, sinuous ribbons that paint her pink nipple and areola white. Splat splat splat, the sound bounces off the water and the walls of the tub, echoing around us as my balls dump their endless stream of sperm once more. I'm groaning, and Mom is moaning, shaking and shivering beneath me. She holds me steady as we climax, her hand shifted from her rolling tit to cradle my back. 

At last I am momentarily empty. I wipe the head of my dripping cock on Mom's nipple and then slide back into the water, paddling quickly over to her other breast. Clambering aboard, I repeat myself, first teasing her nipple, then kneeling and jacking off, depositing another prodigious load, painting her flesh with my seed. Mom is moaning almost continually now, a low trill that makes my breastbone rumble. 

She picks me up and drops me into the water between her floating breasts. Fingers of both hands begin to tease her nipples, spreading the pools of cum decorating them. She brings her fingertips, coated with jizz, up to her lips and sucks them clean. She repeats the action, again and again, rapidly and completely removing the sweet-smelling, viscous cum from her skin. She finishes off by cupping her tits in both hands, squeezing them together, and then bringing her nipples up to her lips directly, where she licks and sucks the evidence of my spend from them. 

That's pretty damn hot. 

I paddle toward her face, and she obliges with a smile, scooping me up in both hands, letting her tits drop and splash the water. She rises slightly out of the water and brings me directly to her lips, letting me slide between their plushness, lustily thrusting my engorged cock into her mouth over and over again until I inevitably exploded directly into her mouth. 

"Mmmm," Mom moans, swallowing noisily. She sets me down, lets me tread water, and languorously reaches for the soap. She begins to clean up. Mom lathers up her loufa which she then uses to scrub every available inch of her body, rising up out of the water occasionally to do so. Sheets of water wash off her body, slamming into the pool below, sending me rocking back and forth. I dive underwater a few times to avoid it, swimming around a bit to get clear. She watches me out of the corner of her eyes, but otherwise pretends to be alone. Hands and cloth caress her every expansive inch, scrubbing them clean. The water gets soapy around me, the scent of apples and vanilla filling the air.

She pays particular attention to her breasts, coating them in a soapy lather with the cloth before going back with bare hands to knead and caress and tug and rub, pushing soap around. She dips almost her entire body underwater to wash away the soap, then rises again almost as quickly. Waves throw me around the tub, and I almost bounce off the wall, before a few powerful kicks carry me away. 

Mom lathers her smooth belly next. The loufa soaps up her pubic hair, but she doesn't dip any lower yet. Instead she moves on to her thighs. She turns, exposing that delectable backside, washing assiduously, then continues down the back of her legs. She bends, her beautiful ass parting slightly, showing me a glimpse of her puckered asshole. She turns, water swirling around her calves, to show her huge breasts hanging low, swinging over the water. 

Mom tosses the washcloth to the side, and begins to scoop up water and pour it down her belly and legs, sweeping the soap away. I continue to tread water, admiring her lush curves and the patterns in the soap as the water courses over her body, rinsing her clean. Mom scoops up water again, heavy tits swaying enticingly, and pours water down over her pubis. Her hand glides downward as well, combing through her pubic hair, fingers slipping between her lips. As I tread water, I feel the tugging begin on my rod, looking up and up and up, craning my neck to watch her. Mom teases her folds, fingers fluttering, dipping, caressing, manipulating. Her fingers glisten with her own juices. With her free hand, she cups a breast, using thumb and forefinger to tease her hardened nipple. 

I am the world's smallest voyeur, watching a beautiful older woman pleasure herself. I want to grab myself and enjoy it, but the water is too deep and I have to use my arms to keep myself aloft. 

But the hex takes care of me. Between my legs, my dick bobs in the water, throbbing and shivering as if phantom fingers are running up and down its length. My breathing is getting heavier, and I note that Mom's is as well. She pants as she continues to play with herself. I see her fingers diving deeper and deeper, as she thrusts harder, flicking her clit with a practiced movement of her thumb. Mom raises her breast once more to her lips, and begins to lick and kiss and suck her own nipple. I see her bite down softly, moaning as she does. Mom's hips gyrate, shimmy, and shake. She sways in the tub, the water swirling around her knees, sending ripples of waves that make me rise and fall like a buoy. 

Suddenly Mom releases her breast, and it falls away from her mouth, bouncing and jiggling as it settles on her chest, and she cries out, short sharp staccato cries as her climax overtakes her. Still treading water, I feel my cock shudder, sending pearly jet after pearly jet into the water. The force of it pushes me back in the water, as if propelled by a motor. A milky cloud spreads before me as I move backwards, gasping and shaking and trying to catch my breath. 

The water surges around me as Mom bends down and gathers me up. "Enjoy the show?" she asks needlessly. I nod, breathless. Mom gives me a kiss. 

Mom sits back down in the water. It laps against her immensity, sloshing around the tub. She sets me down in her cleavage. I roll around a bit, enjoying the touch and taste of her, in particular how her tits loom over me when I lay down. I watch as Mom picks up the soap once more and lathers her hands. When her hands are coated in suds, she sets the bar down and grabs me with both of them. 

Mom's strong hands stroke and caress my entire body, roaming across my arms and legs and torso, rubbing in soap and massaging my tired muscles. Her fingers press into my biceps and trace my pectorals. The pads of her fingers glance across my abdominal muscles, and rub into my thighs and calves. I am quickly covered in suds and spluttering a bit. 

My cock throbs as Mom sweeps her thumb and forefinger along its length, washing me while also jacking me off. Her middle finger nudges my balls gently, soaping them up, while also stimulating them with a little bounce. 

Mom dips me in the tub water, which is beginning to get cool, while still slowly jacking my cock. "Deep breath, honey," she says, and without waiting to see if I comply, she dunks me completely under the water. I come up coughing and spitting soapy water, but still hard as a diamond, as Mom hasn't stopped manipulating me. 

Mom raises me up, holding me up a few inches from her heaving chest, still slowly tugging me. I hear water swirling around as her hips make circles in the water. I stare hungrily at her enormous breasts and the pale expanse of cleavage between them. Breath hitching, I thrust my thick cock between her digits, and begin to spray. Mom giggles throatily, enjoying her own small climax as I cum again. She aims my erupting cock like a hose, directing my spray to coat her cleavage in thick pools of creamy cum that drip down her belly. She pushes her arms together, thrusting her tits into prominence, and coating their inner slopes with jism. 

Mom gives me an evil grin. Her gray eyes gleam with mischief.

Still holding me securely, she sweeps me down and pulls me through her cleavage, dragging my legs through the viscous pools of my cream, coating me from thigh to ankle. My dick bounces off her right tit, leaving a thin trail of cum across it, the last dregs of my spend. 

Mom throws her head back and opens her mouth wide. Holding me securely by the waist, she slowly lowers me towards her open mouth. I panic a little, kicking my legs and pushing my arms against her fingers. All I do is send droplets of cum arcing through the air to adorn her cheeks and lips. She expertly traps my flailing feet between those lips and slides me into her mouth up to my waist. I feel tremendous suction as she slurps the cum off my body. Her tongue slides up and down my backside.




Hexed Ch. 02



Mom thrusts me in and out of her mouth a few times, using my whole body to fuck her mouth. She rotates me, so that my ass is pressed against the roof of her mouth, and my cockhead is wedged between her gums and her lower lip. My feet are wedged into the back of her throat, knees flexed and legs spread against her cheeks, while warm breath blows across my back as she fights for air. 

She starts to hum, short sharp vibrations that shake my body and thrust my cockhead against her lower lip. I try not to think about her teeth, and slowly it dawns on me that she is chanting, not humming, and that the word she is chanting is "Cum." 

I look out, admiring the rise and fall of Mom's huge breasts in the water, and the length of her arm as it descends down to her crotch, where her hand is busy beneath the water's surface. Suddenly I am cumming again, spraying another epic load directly into Mom's mouth. She slurps it up greedily. I can feel and hear her throat muscles working. The volume and force of my ejaculation squeezes some through the seal around my abdomen, pouring across Mom's lips and running down my chest. 

With a sucking sound she releases me. Mom takes several deep, shuddering breaths. She holds me gently and examines me as she licks her lips. "You okay?" she asks. 

"A little startled, but whole. That was fucking crazy, though. For a second I thought you were going to..."

"What?"

"Um... Nevermind," I say. I suppress a shudder just thinking about it. "Just don't do that again without warning me first."

Mom pouts. "I thought you liked mouth play."

"I do, I just... you could have swallowed me."

Mom's eyes bug out. It's clear the idea never even occurred to her. "No! No no no. No. Just, no. Never. Honey, that would never happen. I just wanted some of that creamy cum of yours, and I know you like it when I lick you... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," I assure her. "Obviously I enjoyed it enough to get off."

Mom smiles, but she looks a little uncertain. She washes me off with some soapy water, handling me carefully. Then she does the same with the residue of my orgasm on her chest. 

Mom holds me against her breasts and pulls the drain. Water swirls as the tub empties, and Mom steps out, glistening wet all over, clean and sexy. Her long wet hair clings to her neck and shoulders. "I really am sorry, Robbie."

I assure her I am fine once more, patting her heavy tit with my tiny hand. Mom smiles reassuringly, relaxing a little bit.

I shiver, suddenly cold. Mom wraps me up in a hand towel, drying me quickly but gently. She takes particular care with my sensitive member. When I am dry, she steps back, grabs a normal towel, and dries herself. I let myself watch, entranced, as she rubs herself down, eventually emerging with her skin rubbed pink and dry. She drops the towel on the bathroom floor and stands before me, nude and glorious. 

Mom smirks. And stifles a yawn. 

I remember that I had a nap, but she didn't. It's getting late, and we have been fucking for hours. She must be exhausted, even with the hex driving her libido and mine. I realize that I am pretty tired as well. The warm bath loosened my stiff muscles, but I still feel bruised and beat up, now that I've had a chance to catch my breath. 

"Bedtime?" I suggest. 

"Is it that obvious?" Mom asks. She tries to stop the next yawn, but instead her mouth opens wide, jaw cracking with the effort. She blinks fiercely. "I guess I am tired."

She steps toward the counter where I crouch on the damp hand towel. "But I don't want to lose this... opportunity. I've had more fun with you in the past few hours than I have in years."

I feel my chest swell with a perverse pride. "It's been less than twenty-four hours yet, and you said I'd probably be stuck like this for a few days, even a week. Were you planning not to sleep during that time?"

Mom laughs. "No, but... I'm worried that I'll go to bed and wake up and this will be all over. Stupid, I know. And wrong." She sighs. "This is so wrong."

"I think we're beyond wrong at this point, Mom."

She pretends to think a moment, head cocked to the side. Her full lips split into a huge grin. "That is so true. So very true. I guess we'll have time to do more wrong things in the morning."

Mom picks me up and, both of us naked, walks into her bedroom. She flicks the bathroom light off almost absently behind her, which leaves me balanced precariously on one hand. 

Mom looks at me uncertainly. "The safest place for you to sleep is probably the cat carrier."

"Really? The bed would be more comfortable."

"I told you, I could roll over and crush you or smother you in your sleep, and neither of us would notice until it was too late. Believe me, I love to cuddle. Your Mom is definitely a cuddler, and you and I haven't cuddled in a long, long time. But no, the carrier is best. I'll set it on the floor and leave the door open. Good enough?"

"I guess so." I'd rather sleep nestled against Mom's warm, supple, full figured body, but you don't really argue with a fifty foot woman. 

So she sets the carrier down at the foot of the bed, changes out the towel, and leaves me outside it. She bends down to give me a kiss on the top of my head. "Good night, baby," she says. I wish her good night as well.

I watch as her colossal nude form glides around the bed and slips under the covers, disappearing from view. I contemplate my makeshift bed, stretch and yawn myself, and finally give in to a bone weary exhaustion. Curled up in the carrier, wrapped in a towel, I slip into unconsciousness.

8.

I am lying on a chaise lounge beside a pool. It is midafternoon, the warm sun beating down on me, lathered in sunscreen, completely naked. I am normal sized, back to being a little over six feet tall, but for some reason I retain my oversized equipment. I am hard, my proud cock rising up perpendicularly from between my legs, a fleshy tower with an angry purple head. Beads of precum slide down my length. 

I look around. The pool is in the backyard of my mother's house, the house I grew up in, but we've never owned a pool. The backyard is normally dominated by my mother's herb garden. The strangest thing about this is that I don't find this strange at all. 

There's a small table at my elbow, a cold beer forms perspiration on it. I reach out, take a sip, and I see the back door of the house open. My mother saunters out. She is dressed in a bright light blue bikini which exposes an admirable amount of her pale flesh. She fairly glows in the sunlight, though her eyes are hidden behind large black sunglasses. Her long black hair hangs loose, framing her pretty face and draping across her shoulders. She moves smoothly atop high heeled sandals that strap around her slim ankles. She carries a wine cooler in one hand and a towel in the other. Mom approaches with a sensual smirk on her full lips, and she puts a little exaggerated swing into her hips as she draws close. 

"Hey baby," she says, throwing her towel on the chaise lounge beside me. She takes a swig from her wine cooler and casually puts her long fingered hand on the rampant head of my weeping cock. "You have such an awfully big dick, baby," my mother says. Her forefinger toys with the slit, spreading precum around the angry head. I can see myself reflected obscenely in her sunglasses as she admires my length. The hand begins to lightly run up and down my dick, fingertips grazing me. "It's much too big for me to play with like this. I'm going to have to get bigger so it fits inside me."

With that, she wiggles her nose, accompanied by a kind of chiming sound. And Mom begins to grow. Her body expands before my very eyes, gaining inches in seconds. The abbreviated bikini looks smaller and smaller as she grows, her generous tits getting larger and larger with each breath. Her belly expands, her thighs and arms and neck lengthen. The bikini straps cut into her skin, straining to contain her burgeoning femininity. With a loud snap, her top goes flying into the air, sailing over my head. Her huge breasts bob and jiggle, hard nipples pointing straight at me. The bikini bottom is swallowed up by her expanding pussy, neatly shaved and already dripping with moisture. Another snapping sound accompanies the loss of her bikini bottom, which flutters to the pool deck, all but forgotten. Mom's dainty, sexy feet with their blue painted toenails expand out of the confines of her sandals and crush them beneath her weight. 

Mom stretches like a cat, arms over the head, breasts thrown into prominence, feet and calves arched, thighs flexed. She is now about twelve feet tall. She growls lustily and steps over my chaise lounge. She positions herself so that her vagina hovers over my rampant rod. Mom makes a V with her arms, hands pointed downward over her crotch. Her tits bulge out over her arms, soft and firm, pale and pink and bigger than my head. 

Slowly Mom lowers herself onto me. My glans nudges up against her labia. Her lips part, and with a schlooping sound, I slide home inside her. Our combined juices drip down my length as she swallows me inch by inch. Finally I bottom out, Mom standing above me with legs spread wide. She braces her hands on the back of the lounge, which serves to dangle her enormous udders in my face. I reach up and grab a breast, finding a nipple to kiss and lick and suck as Mom begins to slowly fuck me. Her hips raise and lower, sliding up and down my raging pole. 

She cries out in pleasure and joy. I moan into her tit. 

There's no way the neighbors aren't aware of what is going on. We have a fence around the property, but it's not so tall that it can hide a naked woman standing a dozen feet high who is steadily, savagely fucking her son. 

I reach the precipice quickly, maybe too quickly, and deep inside Mom, my cockhead rubbing against the roof of her womb, I fire rope after rope into her. She shudders in response, pussy lips clamping tight around the base of my cock as her juices inundate my balls. Mom's weight settles on me for a moment, but she soon rises, dragging herself free of my dick with a slurp. Cum and vaginal juices stream from her reddened pussy, leaking down her thick thighs. 

"Mmm, that was good," Mom says, "but I want to be bigger." The nose wiggles, the chime sounds, and Mom expands upward and outward again, doubling in size once more in the span of a few eyeblinks. I watch, rapt, from my position on the lounge. My rod has not slackened. Instead I get harder, looking at her. 

Twenty-four feet tall. She poses sexily, hands on hips, huge tits jiggling. She is as tall as the house, and only a little shorter than the elm trees at the back of the yard. Her foot is almost as long as the chair on which I lie, and I will only stand as high as her knee if I rise. I can hear exclamations of surprise, horror, and intrigue from the neighbor's houses. My mother, the giantess exhibitionist. 

Mom leans over and picks me up with both hands, cupping me under the armpits. She brings me up to her breasts and cradles me between their lush, firm softness, before carrying me to her lips. She swallows my cock whole, licking and sucking, moaning and bobbing and twisting her mouth. Her mouth is as moist and warm as her pussy, but feels different, her agile tongue adding another layer of sensation. It doesn't take long for her to coax out another explosion from me. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation of the cum traveling up my shaft and spurting into Mom's mouth, straight down her throat. 

Mom swallows greedily. "Mmm," she says. "Just a little bigger, I think." The nose wiggles, the chimes sound, and Mom grows again. Its weirder watching from my current perspective. The sky fills with her. Her hands expand around my body as she holds me. Her grip changes, as I settle into her cupped palm, legs dangling, arms braced against her fingers. 

Mom stops at a height of forty-eight feet, nude and glorious. Her skin shines in the sun. The sky is an impossible blue, and her beauty is framed by big fluffy white clouds. Mom dwarfs the house and the trees, towering over the neighborhood, which has come out to stare and point and admire. The swimming pool is a foot bath. 

Mom shifts her grip again, putting two fingers and a thumb around my rampant rod. She manipulates me slowly, gently, smiling and cooing as she jacks me off. For her, no one else seems to matter. That she is in full view of the entire neighborhood doesn't seem to bother her. Nor me, apparently, as I am cumming again in minutes. She aims my cock at her right breast, and blast after blast of cream decorates her pale skin and pink nipple. When I am done and lie gasping for breath in one palm, Mom lifts her tit to her lips and laps up the evidence of my orgasm, noisily and happily. 

There are shouts of disgust, surprise, and wonder from below. Mom doesn't seem to care. I risk a glance beneath us, and fight the sense of vertigo. Some couples are making out, getting busy, starting an orgy that threatens to engulf the entire neighborhood. Others are pointing and staring or calling the cops.

"Mmmm," Mom says. She takes a deep breath, looks around. Her eyes widen, as if she's just realized how big she is, how everyone can see. But instead of being embarrassed, she appears to enjoy it. A slow, sexy smile blossoms on her face. She looks at me. "Bigger?" 

I swallow nervously, but nod. 

Mom laughs, sexily, throatily, with abandon. Her nose wiggles, the chime sounds, and she grows again. The ground recedes rapidly. Her palm expands around me. I find myself lying prostrate in her palm, completely surrounded by her hand. She tops out around ninety-six feet tall. No surprise, as she's doubling herself with each spell. 

I roll around on her palm, using her thumb as a handhold, and look down. Her tits are gigantic. They are wider than I am tall, and half again as long. Full and round and gravity defying, rising and lowering with each breath, bobbing and jiggling enticingly. 

Mom laughs. The sound hurts my ears, and I almost tumble from her palm as I instinctively cover them with my hands. But she's there to catch me, one hand under the other. The movement causes Mom to step backward, and one foot stumbles into the pool. Water surges up onto the deck. Mom loses her balance, catches it, then falls backward. The world spins as she throws her arms out, me still trapped in the cage formed by fingers and palm, bouncing around. I hear a tremendous crashing sound and everything shakes. 

When Mom opens her hand, she looks worried. "You okay?" she says, her voice a deep, sexy rumble. I nod. I'm not sure she could hear me anyway; I'm only about four inches tall to her. Mom breathes a sigh of relief, but blushes. "I sat on the house."

She holds me out so I can look over the edge of her palm. Our home is destroyed, flattened by Mom's gigantic ass. The trees in the front yard are knocked over, into the street, and power lines are down as well. Mom slowly gets back on her feet, rubbing her bare butt as she does. Everything we own rains down forty feet to the ground. 

Mom shrugs, nonchalant. "Couldn't be helped, I guess." I look around, and see that the crowd that was forming to watch us has begun to disperse. People are rushing from the neighborhood, finally aware of the peril they are in. Once again, Mom doesn't seem to notice. She only has eyes for me. 

"Oh, but my little cum monkey is too small to be of any use. I better fix that." With a devilish smile, she wiggles her nose again. The chimes sound, and I am at first disappointed – and a little relieved - to see her begin to shrink. But as I look over the edge of her palm, I see everything else shrinking too. Which means I am growing. I spring up to a height of twelve feet, still tiny compared to Mom, but more manageable for her, I suppose. My dick continues to grow, expanding out to a length of three feet, thick as a beer keg. The weight pulls at me. 

I should protest, but I can't be bothered. I am perversely enjoying this. 

Mom steps over the ruin of our home and lies down in the middle of the street. Cars honk and swerve out of the way. People flee across lawns. Mom carries me leisurely across her body, letting me enjoy the view, before pausing above her weeping pussy. She positions me at the entrance, feet first, and I slide in without complaint, using both hands to wedge my cock into place. She fucks herself with my whole body, using me roughly, slamming me into her over and over again. I bang my hands against her clit, urging her to climax, and at last she cuts loose with an ululating cry that shatters windows along the block and sets off car alarms. I empty myself into Mom with a dozen pulses, and she drags me dripping from her snatch. She licks me clean and climbs to her feet. 

Her eyes find mine and I look up into them, feeling my lust and admiration mirrored there. I don't even have to say the word, she just smiles and nods and wiggles her nose. The chimes echo down the block, and she grows again. 

She doubles once more, crying out with the joy of it as she reaches a height of one hundred and ninety two feet. Each of her breasts is nineteen feet wide. Her areolas are enormous, with hard pink nipples right in their center. Her hips are forty two feet wide. I look down, and she casually crushes the house across the street from us. She doesn't even notice as her foot shifts and caves in a wall. The wreckage of the house flows over her foot and tumbles into the street. 

Another nose wiggle makes me grow as well, still tiny compared to her, but a giant to a normal person. She is making my cock extra large with each shift as well, comically large. It's almost as long as I am tall now, and I have to sit bow-legged in her palm because my balls are so big. 

The part of my brain that should be paralyzed with terror, or dumbstruck with horror at Mom's destructive potential, is instead consumed with lust. It is almost as if the bigger she gets, the more beautiful and wanton she gets and the more aroused I am. 

Mom smiles down at me sitting in her palm. "What do you say, baby? Let's go to the mall. I haven't got a thing to wear." Without waiting for a response for me, which wouldn't matter anyway, Mom sets off. She sticks to the streets, using them as walkways through the neighborhood. Her feet leave massive craters in the pavement. The earth buckles behind her. Water mains and gas mains burst, houses are shaken off their foundations. People have fled the neighborhood, as our lovemaking gave them enough time to get out of the general area. This is a good thing, as Mom has become a living hurricane or tornado. Without any effort on her part, Mom has already destroyed our block. My cock inexplicably gets stiffer as I contemplate her walk to the mall. 

Mom whistles a jaunty tune as she saunters across the landscape, demolishing everything in her path. Occasionally she lifts me up to her mouth to give my rampant rod a slurp, licking up the river of precum that oozes from me continually. 

In no time at all, we reach our destination, a multi-story shopping mall encircled by huge stretches of asphalt and hundreds upon hundreds of tiny cars. Mom steps over the clusters of cars, keeping to the lanes between them. But the parking lot sags beneath her weight, and gravity forces cars to slide into the pits made by her stride. Masses of tiny, two inch tall people stream from the mall and scurry across the asphalt carpet of the parking lots. Mom watches them go, smirking. She brings me up to her lips again, sucking on my cock like a straw while people flee. In no time at all, I am pumping a truly enormous amount of jism into Mom's mouth. The volume overwhelms her mouth, forcing her to swallow quickly. Even so, some leaks out to drip down her lips and chin. She releases me to swipe her titanic tongue across her lips, and the last few dregs of my climax squirt ineffectually onto Mom's throat. 




Hexed Ch. 02



This is the signal for Mom to wiggle her nose again, and she does not disappoint. The chimes sound, Mom swells, doubling in size once more to a height of three hundred and eighty-four feet.

The ground beneath us groans and creaks. The parking lot crumbles under her weight, and she sinks up to her heels to the bedrock underneath. Cars are thrown backward and explode as her feet grow into them. Her palm encircles me. I'm tiny compared to her again, much smaller in proportion than I ever have been. Even at my relatively gigantic size, I'm only a few inches tall to her. My cock empties out a second time, untouched, my libido overwhelmed by her sheer feminine enormity. 

Mom feels my inundation on her skin. One titanic hand grabs me gently and lifts me out of her palm, while she brings the other hand to her mouth and swipes my spend away with one lash of her huge pink tongue. 

Mom sets me down on the roof of the mall, which doesn't even come up to her knees. This is getting out of control, but I'm so aroused I hardly care. 

At the edge of the parking lot, a city bus attempts to get away, back out onto the street. Mom leans over casually and snaps it up in one hand. It's a big bus, fifty feet long at least, and it looks like a hefty metal cylinder in her hands. Mom brings it back to the mall and sets the bus down on the ground. She gently taps the roof. "Everybody out," she whispers, and the sound echoes across the mall, across the town. 

People who are inch tall compared to the titaness scurry from the vehicle and hurry across the parking lot. Mom watches them go, idly running her fingers through her wet, dripping pussy, almost two hundred feet in the air. 

For some reason the crowd of commuters stops about a football field's length from Mom, and they all turn to watch as she lifts the bus into the air once more and brings it to her crotch. The blunt face of the bus nudges against Mom's lips, and she roughly shoves the bus into her pussy. She cries out. People are knocked down. Glass shatters and tinkles. Car alarms that haven't already been triggered suddenly go off. 

Even I am knocked on my ass by her roar, landing roughly on the tarred roof of the mall. I stand up again, planting my feet on the edge of the roof and watch Mom pummel her pussy with her bus-dildo. She looks down at me, panting and sweating, and I start to jerk off. 

The crowd watching Mom turns its attention to me. Above the sound of Mom's cries, above the screech of crushing metal, across the distance, I hear them begin to laugh. They point at me. Their tiny voices call me "freak," "psycho," "pervert." The people start getting bigger, as if they are growing, or getting closer. I start to recognize faces in the crowd, people from high school, friends of my parents, old teachers. 

Mom pulls the bus out of her. Its front end is mangled and crushed by the forces of her immense vagina. Fluid drips from it. Mom tosses the bus casually over her shoulder, sending it flying into town. Where it lands, no one can say. 

"Stop laughing at my son," Mom says, which only makes the crowd laugh harder and taunt me more fiercely. "Motherfucker" is added to the rotation. Mom lifts a foot and brings it down towards the crowd, her face contorted in rage. 

But these are human beings. People – people we both know. "Mom! No!" I shout at the top of my lungs, but she either can't or won't hear me. "NOOOO!"

I snap awake, coated in icy sweat, the towel wrapped around me sticky with cum. 

Jesus Christ. That was the most realistic dream I have ever had. A nightmare, really. I shiver, cold and uncertain. It takes me a few shuddering breaths to accept the reality of lying naked in the cat carrier at the foot of Mom's bed. It all felt so real, and so good. But oh so very wrong. 

Above me the bed creaks as Mom shifts in bed. "Robbie?" she says. "Are you awake?"

I try to croak out a response, but my throat is too dry, my voice to tiny for her to hear. The bed shifts again and then the floor shivers as Mom comes around the bed, still naked, still beautiful, but part of my brain is still engaged in the dream and I am frightened of her. 

Mom kneels down beside the carrier and peers inside. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bad dream," I manage to say. Mom reaches in and extricates me from the soiled towel. 

"Doesn't look like a bad dream," she says wryly. 

"No, it definitely was."

Mom's expression softens. "I'm sorry. I just had a bad dream myself." She pauses. "Want to cuddle a little?"

I surprise myself by enthusiastically nodding my head. I can't get the image of Mom about to crush all those people out of my head. I feel a little ill, but when she cradles me against her bosom and I feel her warmth and hear her heartbeat, I start to relax. 

Mom climbs into bed, under the covers, still holding me close. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asks quietly. I think about it a moment, then quickly sketch the salient points of the dream. Mom's eyes get bigger and bigger as I talk, until I get to the end, and she turns a little green. 

"You're not going to believe this, but I had the same dream, but from the other end. Growing bigger and bigger, destroying the neighborhood, going to the mall... the whole nine yards. I woke up just before I would have killed those people, too."

"What the – how is that possible?"

"The hex between us is stronger than I thought if we're sharing dreams. I don't even know whose dream it was to start, but it was probably fueled on both our parts by that little incident at the end of the bath. Made both of us anxious. 

"Let me try to set you a little bit more at ease. I'm not Samantha from 'Bewitched.' Magic doesn't work that way. It's hard, it's time consuming, and the spells I cast have to be expressed through a recipe of some kind. Potion, baked good, pastry, whatever. It isn't an instantaneous thing, and it doesn't generally last very long. 

"Second, even magic has to adhere to certain physical realities. I've never tried to make someone grow, but I'm pretty sure even if I did, the largest I could get a human being is twelve or fifteen feet or so. Theoretically, you could do sixty feet tops, but the amount of prep time and expenditure of energy required to channel that much energy into mass would take years. Four hundred feet is right out. Plus, I'm no exhibitionist at heart, and the thought of being out in front of all those people, friends and neighbors... ugh, I don't even want to think about it.

"And lastly, but most importantly, the tradition I belong to has a philosophy. 'Do what thou wilt, an it harm none.' Basically, it's a variation of the Golden Rule. And I try my best to live by it. I would never willingly use magic or anything else to deliberately hurt another living being."

"Okay," I say, feeling a little better. It was all so vivid, though, I'm still a little unsettled. 

"Look, why don't I bring the carrier up here to the bed, and then we can sleep a little closer together. You need a new towel, though." She crinkles her face in mock disgust, eliciting a smile from me. In no time at all, Mom has me set up on the bed, a fresh towel to lie on, the door open and facing the foot of the bed, her massive but reassuring form visible through the breathing holes. Mom watches me for a little while, but soon drifts off to sleep. Her little snores are kind of cute, and eventually I fall asleep myself. 

9.

Consciousness returns slowly. Warm sunlight streams through the windows, illuminating Mom's bedroom, creating a rectangular pattern on the bed that extends across the carrier and falls across my face. I'm still small, still hard, and surprised at how relaxed I am by that fact. I climb out from under the towel and look for Mom. 

Her side of the bed is empty, the comforter creating a mountain of fabric where she left it bunched up. The bathroom door is open, the room devoid of occupation. I don't hear her in the hall, and guess she's nowhere nearby. 

The smell of something baking wafts into the room. My stomach rumbles. I haven't eaten or drunk much since shrinking. I don't know why that is, but it appears I'm ready to eat something now. For a while, I wait to see if Mom will come looking for me, but she can't possibly know when I'm awake. Even if I jerk off, she might assume it's just a wet dream. I decide to go looking for her, and figure that she's probably in the kitchen. 

I jump down from the edge of the bed, bouncing on the carpet, and leap across the room, down the hall, to the stairs. I navigate my way down the stairs, around the corner, and into the kitchen. The radio is on, playing Adele, and Mom is humming and half-singing to herself as she bops around the island and stove. I see mixing bowls and packages of flour and sugar and other things spread around the top of the island and counters, and Mom has a spoon in one hand doubling as a microphone. 

Her hair is pinned up to keep it out of her eyes, but still fluffed out with plenty of body. There's just a little bit of makeup on her face, some color to accent her eyes and lips. Other than that, the only thing she is wearing is a light purple apron. While it covers her front, it offers no support for her pendulous breasts, which bounce around on her chest with each movement. And the apron leaves her long, smooth back and large springy backside completely open. 

I watch for a few minutes, enjoying my mother's singing voice, and admiring the way her enormous, sexy body moves and sways. The flex of her ass, the tightness of her calves, the fullness of her thighs. The swanlike expanse of her neck, her long toned arms, the way her huge tits thrust out the front of the apron, swinging rhythmically with each step. 

She hasn't seen me, and with the music turned up and her own singing, she wouldn't hear me if I shouted at her. I suppose it's time to show off. I make a few short hops that take me into the kitchen and halfway across the room, and a big jump that brings me up to the top of the kitchen island. I slip a bit on the slick surface and bend down on one knee, holding my arms out to keep from sprawling. Mom's back is to me, facing the stove. I straighten and walk across the island to the mixing bowl. The edge of it is about as high as my chest, allowing me to reach over and swipe a few fingers through the batter. Chocolate. It's good, although a bit runny. 

At this point Mom slowly turns, perhaps sensing something behind her, and her eyes go wide when she sees me. She jumps back a step, spooned hand coming up to her chest, and releases a short sharp shout. 

I wave nonchalantly. 

Mom is pale and shaking a little. She raises the spoon up as if to swipe at me, but drops it to her side instead. "Don't DO that!" she yells at me. "You scared me to death."

"Sorry," I say, not really sorry. I smile. 

Slowly, Mom smiles too. She shakes her head. "How did you get up here?" she asks, tapping the spoon against the counter. I feel the vibrations through the soles of my bare feet. 

"I jumped," I say. "One of those benefits of being this size, I guess." To demonstrate, I spring across the gap separating the island from the counter. It's about three feet, and I make it easily. 

Mom gasps in admiration. "I had no idea. When did you discover you could do that?"

I explain about climbing off the couch the day before, but omit going up to her bedroom and masturbating into her bra cup. Mom shakes her head. "And still you let me carry you around?"

"Well, I like when you carry me," I say, looking down and kicking one foot. I look up as Mom steps close and leans over, flashing an acre of cleavage. 

"I can't imagine why," she says with a sultry laugh. She straightens, semi-serious again. "I'm glad you came downstairs. I was going to come up and get you shortly." She reaches past me and turns the stereo down. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I thought you were baking something already?"

Mom's cheeks darken, just a bit. "Oh, that's a little treat for me. I do need your help to finish it, but it won't be breakfast."

"My help?"

Mom titters a bit. "Oh, be patient. Scrambled eggs and sausage, how does that sound?"

Mom starts cleaning up the kitchen, gets out a pan and eggs and whisk and bowl. Chops up some peppers and onions, mixes them into the eggs in the bowl, whisks, pours the mix into the pan and starts to cook the eggs. Frozen sausage links go into the microwave, come out steaming and hot. 

Mom sets out plates and utensils on the table. She directs me over there. I give her a rueful look, already regretting showing off, and bound down to the floor to bounce back up on the table top. Mom sets out breakfast, and as she does, the timer goes off. She scurries to the stove and pulls out a pan of muffins or cupcakes or something, setting them on a rack on the island to cool. They smell delicious. 

Mom cuts up my sausage. The knife and fork make me feel queasy as it easily divides up the meat, but once again Mom is seemingly oblivious. I spear a bit of sausage with a toothpick and eat hungrily. Mom eats lustily, putting away quite a bit of food. While we eat, we make small talk. Apparently the weather is going to be warm and sunny all weekend, not that I'll be able to enjoy it. 

As breakfast winds down, I ask again, "So what did you need my help with?"

Mom dabs at her lips with a napkin. She smiles, reaching across the table to scoop me up and hold me against her cloth covered breasts as she steps away from the table. "Well," she says coyly, "you know I like to bake. You know I like my sweets. And now you know about some of my other tastes, too. So I woke up this morning with a... craving. I made some chocolate cupcakes, but I need your help with the frosting."

I think I see where this is going. But I play along. "Frosting?"

Mom's smile widens, eyes bright, cheeks already flushed. She sets me down on the island. Mom picks up a warm cupcake from the rack and sets it down in front of me. It's the size of an ottoman, with a pink wrapper around the stem. Mom puts a finger along the length of my cock and nudges it, so that it points directly at the cupcake. "You know... frosting," she says. Her thumb joins her finger, encircling my cock. She begins to gently manipulate me. 

I look up and up, enjoying the way her breasts shift under the apron, and into her eyes. She is smiling, happy, aroused. I put my hands behind my back and enjoy the sensation of Mom's fingers on my length, carefully tugging on me, urging me to cum. Her free hand cups a breast through the apron, squeezing and pulling on her teat. The fabric is gradually pushed inward, revealing the pale skin of her breast, and the huge, hard pink nipple in the middle. Mom's other thumb and forefinger find it and begin to twist and tug her nipple. The bottom of the apron rustles as Mom rubs her thighs together. 

This is so kinky and weird and silly, and Mom's ministrations are quite insistent. I thrust forward between her fingers, fucking my cock between them, my own precum generating plenty of lubricant. My ass clenches, my balls squeeze, and a torrent of cum erupts from the end of my dick. The first one overshoots the mark, spraying across the top of the cupcake to leave a ribbon on the island. But Mom is focused, and uses both hands to hold my body and aim my ejaculating cock, so that my thick, creamy load primarily sprays across the top of the cupcake. Some of it soaks directly into the cake, but most of it lies obscenely on the cupcake top. Finally I am spent, and Mom sets me down on my feet. I stagger a bit, coming down off my orgasm, breathing hard. 

Mom deftly removes the pink wrapper. Cum oozes off the cupcake, too slick and gelid to stay there properly, and some of it drips onto Mom's fingers as she carries the cake to her mouth. She devours it in three bites, licking her lips, trying to catch as much of my cum as possible in her mouth. She licks bits of cake and cum from her fingers, moaning. "That was just as good as I hoped it would be."

"You are one crazy lady, Mom." She turns red, from forehead to toes, in the blink of an eye. "How many more cupcakes do you have?" I say quickly, and she relaxes somewhat. 

"Eleven," she says shyly. "Not that I could eat eleven cupcakes right now..."

I remember her saying that she orgasms when I orgasm, but that for her they're little. And that they build if mine come in rapid succession. "How many could you eat right now?" I ask. I give my hips a wiggle, which sends my cock bobbing. 

"Let's see," she says with a wicked smile. 

Mom takes three more cupcakes off the rack and lays them down in front of me. She stands back from the island, reaches behind her back and unties the apron. She lifts it up over her head and tosses it to the side. Her huge, beautiful breasts bob playfully, and I get a glimpse of her neatly trimmed pussy hair before she steps forward again. 

Mom's finger and thumb find me and start jacking me off. Her other hand roams across her mountainous breasts, down her smooth belly, beneath the edge of the island. Phantom fingers caress my cock, almost counterpoint to the real fingers gently masturbating me. Once again I am struck by the sheer perverse strangeness of my situation, but it doesn't stop me from jettisoning a huge load onto the first cupcake. 

Mom doesn't wait for me to recover. She is panting and moaning and wild eyed. The fingers dipping into her pussy, playing with her pink folds, just make her more eager. She points my cock at another cupcake and teases me. I'm grabbing her fingers and thrusting between them, gliding my cock across her flesh, trying to fuck her fingers. Her thumb nudges against my balls, careful not to hit them too hard. She leans over, her tits swinging in my face, and I let loose a third time, spraying down the top of another cupcake. 

Mom cries out. She is hunched over the island a bit, her huge tits lying on the counter, their mammoth softness spread out, just behind the cupcakes. Jism is sliding around the tops of the cakes, dripping down the sides, soaking into the food. Mom shifts me again, moving me like an action figure, still gently but urgently jacking me off. 

Her free hand comes up to the top of the island. Her fingers trace glistening trails across her left tit. Mom's eyes are glassy, her skin flushed. She grabs one of the cupcakes I've decorated and brings it to her mouth, slurping and licking up the cum before it can slide off completely. She eats a few bites before setting it down. Her eyes bore into me the entire time she is eating, and before long my crisis is upon me. I slam my dick into her fingers, long ropes of jizz spraying across her hand to splatter on the final cupcake. Fluid ricochets off of fluid, some splattering Mom's breast and nipple. 

She brings the second cupcake to her mouth with a shaky hand and devours the semen greedily. She releases my abused cock and goes back to teasing her pussy, riding a cresting orgasm that, from the sounds she makes around the cupcake, is going to be a big one. She lets the half eaten cake fall to the island, nearly hitting me, and snaps up the third one. She doesn't bother with the cake itself, simply slurping and sucking and licking of the frosting. Her hand, out of view, is busy as her arm jerks back and forth. 

Mom roars, throwing her head back, lips smeared with cum and chocolate. Her tits bobble and shake, and she lets the last cupcake fall to the floor as her entire body shudders. The whole experience makes me cum again, emptying my seed on the countertop, and this just seems to extend Mom's thunderous climax. She finally falls back, settling against the counter top, breathing heavily. She licks her fingers, on both hands, and doesn't miss the few drops of cum I left on her tit. 

The muscles in Mom's legs and abdomen shiver and shake with aftershocks as she catches her breath. She notices the pool of cum spreading across the island at my feet and lurches forward on weak legs. She leans down over the counter, bringing her face close to me, and her long pink tongue extends out to lick up the pool of cum. 




Hexed Ch. 02



It doesn't end. It can't end. Synapses are firing in my brain, clouding my mind, making me crazy and hornier and hornier. 

With my cock gripped in both hands I step to Mom's face and aim it towards her chocolate and cum smeared mouth. With a wanton smile she welcomes me, slurping my dick into her mouth like a straw. I grab her cheeks with both hands and slam into her mouth, over and over again, as savagely and ruthlessly as I can. Her breath washes over me from flared nostrils, and phantom caresses assure me Mom is playing with herself as I drive towards another orgasm. It comes, quicker than I'd hoped, and I cry out unconsciously, calling her name as I empty myself into her hot, wet, pink mouth. 

Mom swallows greedily, hungrily, lapping at my spewing dick with the tip of her tongue, urging me on, ever onward. She keens around the cock trapped between her full lips, a sound like an alarm or a ship's whistle that rises around me, passes through me, shakes me to my core. I realize that that last orgasm of hers never really stopped, and she is riding it out as I jettison another epic load directly into her mouth. 

Finally I fall backward, gasping on the slippery surface of the island's counter top, my cock momentarily softened for only the second time in the past two days. 

Mom gives me a sleepy, chocolate smeared smile, and slumps backward. She disappears. I lever myself to my feet and stumble to the edge, looking over with apprehension. 

Mom lies in a contented jumble on the kitchen floor, gloriously nude and gloriously fucked. "M'okay, hun," she manages to mumble in between deep, shuddering gasps. "Jus' need t'catch breath."

I slump, relieved. I've lost count of the number of times I've climaxed in the last few minutes. More than is humanly possible, at any rate. I feel as though I've just run a marathon. Even though I just woke up, I could use a nap.



Hexed Ch. 03



This is a work of fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters are 18 or older. This story features my usual themes of Oedipal incest, exaggerated bodies, and copious fluids. 

10.

After she recovers, Mom showers alone. She lets me splash around in the sink. At first I am disappointed, but I see the logic in it. Whenever we're too close, explosive things happen. We both need a breather after the intensity of the kitchen. 

Mom leaves me in the bathroom to get dressed, returning almost immediately, having donned a diaphanous white tank top with a flower pattern that hugs her every curve and shows her pale skin and pink nipples beneath. A loose pair of sweat-shorts hangs off her hips. Her hair is still wet and hangs down her back in long dark strands. 

Mom smiles at the effect of her costume on me. She scoops me up and carries me down to the living room, depositing me on the couch. When I frown, she explains, "I have to clean up the kitchen before we go any further. Watch some TV. I won't be long."

Reluctantly, I flip on the television and watch a few programs, flipping through channels, not really finding anything. I'm sitting on the edge of the couch, legs dangling over the side, with the remote at my elbow, slamming buttons as the mood strikes me. 

After what seems like an eternity, Mom saunters back into the living room. Her hair has dried, and looks a little frizzy, but she's tied it back from her face into some kind of bun or something. She stands behind the couch, looking over the back of it at me. I half turn and admire the view, the way her immense breasts fill the tank top, confined and supported but revealing everything. Mom smiles broadly. She plucks at the drawstrings on her shorts. I hear fabric moving, see Mom's hips shift as her legs move. 

Mom climbs over the back of the couch, naked from the waist down, her huge, beautiful pussy wet and gleaming. She ends up kneeling on the center cushion, her creamy thighs framing my body. I look up into her pussy, and beyond to her softly rounded belly and thrusting breasts. 

Mom chuckles, sultry and sexy, and scoops me up. Without preamble she swings me around so that my engorged dick is pointed at her moist vagina. She brings me close, smooshing my body against her. My cock penetrates, and I start swinging my hips involuntarily, jamming into her. With my hands I start banging against her clit, peeking out from its little hood. Mom moans, grinds me into her pussy. 

Her hands shift, letting me hang upside down. My cock slips out of her warm, wet gash. She swings my knees up, so that my feet press against her lips. Slowly she eases me inside, up to my waist. I have to adjust my cock so that it points away from me and into her. Inside her my knees bend as Mom continues to push me into her. I sink in further, enjoying the warmth and moisture as her entire pussy swallows me. As my chest is swallowed, I wrench my right arm free, which elicits a hiss and hip jerk from Mom.

I reach out for her clit, rubbing and caressing it the best I can with one hand. At the same time, I attempt a modified frog kick with my legs. Mom's entire body shudders, and I feel her lips tighten around my chest. Her moisture soaks into my skin, drips down my pecs and onto my neck, trailing along the edge of my chin and across my cheeks to pool in my hair. 

I expect to be pulled out and jammed back in, but Mom keeps me pinned. Her inner walls tighten and loosen around me, flexing, caressing my entire body. I press back against her with one arm and both legs, feeling her flesh give a little, expanding and contracting against my actions. Her scent is overpowering, sweet and salty and delicious. I lick her moisture from my lips, suddenly struggling to breathe as it flows over the lower part of my face. I suck it down, swallowing quickly, and take a shaky breath. 

Mom's hips jerk back and forth. Beneath us, the couch cushion groans. Above me her breasts swing back and forth, immense and flexible tanks. I wish I could reach up and grab them, bury my face between them, lick their every expanse, suck on her nipples. I'd have to be normal size to do that, and we wouldn't be together if I were. Right?

I feel my climax approaching, and with it Mom's. Her contractions come faster and harder now. My body is compressed within her, and my struggles against her inner muscles grow more feeble. My cock is wedged between two folds of slick flesh, sawing between them. My hips twist, and I hit some sensitive spot, because Mom explodes at once, her pussy clamping down tight on me. Her shoulders hunch and her breasts hang down, swinging left and right in the confines of her tank top as her eyes shut and teeth clench and a long, low moan comes from her. 

I explode as well, spraying rope after rope into Mom's sucking depths. My balls feel as if they are being squeezed, my cock feels like it is expanding, and the cum races up the barrel of my shaft to erupt with enormous force, splattering against that sensitive spot with each shuddering spurt. Mom's moan turns to a cry as her mouth drops open and her eyes squeeze shut even harder. 

I empty myself in her, my ejaculation taking forever. Spurt after spurt spirals out of the head of my cock, filling her to the brim. Semen squeezes out from the edges of her lips, washing over my chest. My head swims, as hanging upside down the blood finally starts rushing to my head. 

At last, Mom pulls me free with a sucking sound. I am coated neck to foot in semen and vaginal fluids. Our combined juices drip from Mom's gaping pussy onto the towel draped across the couch cushion. Mom lifts me up to breast level. She wears a satisfied smile. 

"Mmmm," she says, "you need another bath." She proceeds to lick me clean, slurping up both her fluids and mine from my bruised and battered body. She cleans me thoroughly, sensuously, pausing now and then to swallow noisily. She makes contented noises and cooing sounds as she bathes me with her tongue, paying particular attention to my rampant cock and swollen balls. 

When she's done, she slips my cock between her plush lips and coaxes me to another thunderous climax, so that I spray another epic load across her tongue and teeth and throat. She swallows greedily, moaning and humming, and cradles me to one titanic breast. 

My mother has just used me as a sex toy and I loved every second of it. 

Her other hand has been cupping her mound this entire time. What has dripped out of her vagina has pooled in her palm. She brings it up to her lips and licks it clean with cat-like satisfaction. 

"Mmmm," she says. "I came in here to make a suggestion, but you looked so cute and irresistible sitting there, I just had to fuck you."

"You'll get no complaints from me."

She laughs. Her thumb teases my cock. "No doubt," she says.

"So... what were you going to suggest?"

"Oh!" she says, laughing once more. "I'd forgotten again. You're so good at distracting me. Anyway, what I meant to say was, we should have a fashion show."

Unless she's stashed a Barbie Dream House complete with Ken's wardrobe somewhere, I don't think I'm putting on any kind of show. So I ask, "And by 'we' you mean what exactly?"

She smiles a wicked smile, which makes her all the more beautiful. "Well, me of course. But I need an audience." She pokes me in the chest with a finger glazed in pussy juice. "That's where you come in, little man." 

"I think that's in my wheelhouse. So what do you have in mind?"

She explains briefly, getting up from the couch and heading upstairs. She leaves her shorts behind, which means I literally don't know where to look. Up or down presents wonderful possibilities, and I find my neck getting a crick in it from whipping it back and forth. 

Mom stops at the door to my room, opens it, and steps inside. I thought I had gotten used to being small in my own house, but the all too familiar trappings of my room remind me all over again that I am tiny. My twin bed is huge, as are the suitcases making a pyramid by my desk and computer. The posters of rock bands I barely even listen to anymore decorate the walls, as well as old little league trophies and a low bookcase filled with books from college. The curtains are drawn, but some of the midday sun leaks into the room. Mom sets me down on my bed and steps back. 

"Wait here," she says. I admire the view as she turns to go and hurries from the room, her beautiful, curvy ass flexing attractively as she departs. She throws a knowing look over her shoulder before disappearing down the hall towards her bedroom. 

I loose a low wolf whistle and settle down onto the comforter. I look around, but that makes my heart heavy and my head hurt, so instead I focus on the open door. I try to think how Mom will be dressed when she returns. It takes some time for her to do so. Eventually, I start to get bored. My eyes wander around the room. 

The surreality of my situation strikes me like a sledgehammer once again. The house is familiar enough, but I have largely been spending my time in family space and my mother's space. This room, however, is my space. My room. My size in relation to it is one thing, what Mom and I are about to do in here is another. It's wrong and right at the same time.

Just as I begin to wonder if I'll ever be normal again, the floorboards in the hallway creak, announcing Mom's approach. I immediately brighten, give my cock a quick stroke, and get ready. 

11.

Mom steps into the doorway and strikes a pose, head slightly down, one arm raised to the door lintel, left leg forward, right leg turned and bent at the knee. 

She wears a pair of white, four inch heels that raise her incredible height, and add definition to her calves. Her legs are encased in tight black hose that travels all the way up her long, long legs to terminate at her thighs, where they are decorated with little pink bows. The band is tight against her skin, required no tapes, and revealing yards of creamy skin. A pair of diaphanous black boy-shorts hugs her hips and molds against her barely concealed pussy. Her midriff is bare, as the purple blouse she wears is unbuttoned, tied up beneath her breasts, and open at the throat, revealing the black bra she wears, barely containing her titanic tits. The sleeves of her blouse are rolled up as well, leaving most of her arms bare save for a silver bracelet that dangles off her left wrist. Mom's long black hair is tied into two pigtails, which bare her lovely neck, and hang over her chest, tied at the ends with pink ribbon. She has left a tuft of bangs to hang over her forehead and almost cover her left eye. Subtle makeup enhances her natural beauty, but it is the sultry smile she wears that gets me heart pounding. 

Mom stands in the doorway for long moments, framing the space, shifting her body in little ways to add emphasis to different parts of her anatomy. She leans forward to flash an acre of cleavage, stretches both arms overhead to thrust her breasts out further, makes a quarter turn and leans over to show off the arc of her springy ass. 

Mom licks her lips and winks at me. She bats her eyelashes, but can't contain an immediate laugh. "What does my little man think?" 

"You look fucking gorgeous," I say. I can't keep from giving my cock a few strokes. It's so hard and ready, and she's so far away. I could leap across the room and clamber up her perfect form, but somehow I sense this is not part of the game. 

"Mmm, yes Robbie, stroke yourself for Mommy," she says. She turns, reaches out onto the floor in the hall for something, and returns, holding a large glass beer stein. "You're going to fill this for me," she says. 

I pause, looking at it. I don't see how that's going to happen. The bloody thing is almost as tall as I am. Mom crosses the room and sets the stein down next to me. I can look over the edge, but just. It comes up to my neck. I look at her questioningly. Is she insane? Her gray eyes are gleaming with hunger and lust. She is serious. 

Mom bends over, flashing those beautiful tits in my face, and grabs the pillows at the head of the bed. She lays them out near me, and unceremoniously sweeps me up and sets me down on top of them. She adjusts the beer stein. There is give under the pillows, but not too much, and I am able to balance myself upon them and aim my engorged cock at the mouth of the glass. Mom steps back from the bed. I wobble a bit, but keep upright. 

Mom starts to pose again. She cups her breasts, pulls on the lapels of her blouse, widening the view. She bends over, and even in the underwire bra her breasts dangle, huge and round and gorgeous. She folds her hands demurely across her crotch, which forces her upper arms to press against her breasts, causing them to bulge outward. She bends further, and pretends to play with her stockings, running her hands up and down their length, adjusting folds and smoothing the fabric. She turns on her heels, butt arched outward, and gives her right cheek a slap that sets her whole ass jiggling. 

Mom straightens, standing up, hips cocked. She unties the knot under her breasts and lets the shirt slip to the floor. She cups her bra encased breasts, running her hands up and over the cups, tracing her fingers across the upper slopes. With a grin, she folds the left cup under her heavy breast, leaving it to dangle happily, defying gravity and barely needing any support. Her nipple is engorged and hard, and she teases it with a finger. 

I'm very close now. Mom smirks. She can sense my progress, judging by the wet stain spreading across the front of her panties. She bends her neck and lifts her left tit, so she can drag her tongue across its expanse and tease her hardened nipple. 

And I'm off, spraying the first creamy load into the stein. Spurt spurt spurt. Long streamers of creamy jizz erupt from the tip of the cock, falling in lazy arcs to the bottom of the glass. Mom bites into her lower lip, nostrils flaring, hips jerking a little. I scrape the head of my cock against the rim of the stein, squeezing out the last few pendulous drops. And I keep stroking. 

Mom smiles broadly. She repeats the action with her right breast, folding the cup underneath and playing with her nipple. She squats down on her heels, stretching the fabric of her panties at her crotch, muscles in her thighs and calves bunching up. Mom lifts and squeezes and teases her breasts. She forms her full lips into a kiss and aims them at me. 

She rises, crouched, so her tits dangle, and lets them swing back and forth. Slowly she straightens, still twisting, heavy breasts swaying back and forth hypnotically. Mom crosses her arms beneath her breasts, raising them up, almost as if offering them to me. Their plump fleshiness flows over her arms. 

"You know," she says, almost breaking the spell, "I wanted to wear my purple bra, but I didn't see it in the drawer." Her voice is low and husky with need. "Do you know where I found it?"

I shake me head, hands sweeping up and down my turgidity, even though I know the answer. 

"In the hamper," she says needlessly. "With a dried cum stain in the cup." She laughs, low and sexy. "You know, I almost never wear that bra anymore. It's actually too small for me. But it does make my tits look even bigger than they are."

That bra had a 38F tag. Too small? Holy – and I'm off again, spraying another near continuous stream of cum into the cup. It splats as it hits the puddle of cum at the bottom. My ass clenches and my hips jerk involuntarily as I aim my shuddering cock at the beer stein and cum and cum and cum. Mom moans on the other side of the room, her huge hand grazing the front of her panties. I don't know why the mention of numbers does this to me. I can see her breasts, I know how big they are, not only on her but in relation to me. Even at full size, this silly monster cock I brandish would be swallowed between them. But still, having that size quantified with a measurement sets my blood boiling.

As my flood subsides, Mom is breathing heavily. She is crouching again, reclining on her heels. She pushes the front of her panties aside and dips a few fingers into her honey pot. I feel the phantom caresses stroking my cock. "Mommy wears a G cup now," she says, cupping one massive breast and finger fucking herself at the same time. 

Immediately after my last orgasm, I am triggered again, somewhat weaker this time, but still a gusher. My hose sprays the side of the beer stein, and my cum washes down the glass side to join the growing pool at the bottom. Mom shudders and moans, riding the crest of our mutual climax with eyes closed and teeth gritted. When she stops shaking, she rises from her crouch and stretches like a cat. She eyes the beer stein hungrily. 

"I think you can really do it," she says, almost to herself. She flushes, looks at me, gauging my reaction. 

I smile. "You do inspire me," I manage to gasp out. 

Mom returns my grin. "Ready for the next outfit? I'll try not to be too long."

I nod. I could use the breather. With a sexy smile, Mom swipes a glistening finger across my chest, marking me with her vaginal fluids, then saunters out of the room, hips swaying and gorgeous ass flexing.

I give my cock a few swipes while I wait, not that I need fluffing. The hex ensures I am hard and leaking precum perpetually. 

Mom returns shortly. 

She's pulled the ribbons from her hair and brushed it out a little, leaving it wild and tousled but back from her face. A little black choker is tied around her neck, depending from which is a large, most likely fake, ruby. 

Mom's curves stretch a tight red dress to bursting. It has a deep scoop neck that shows off her huge breasts. Narrow ties wrap around her shoulders to provide some semblance of support. Her hard nipples are clearly visible through the thin material. The dress hugs the curve of her belly like a second skin. The fabric on the sides has been scalloped, baring her ribs and the top curve of her hips. When she whirls, she shows that most of her back is naked as well. The skirt of the dress is long, hanging down to the floor, but slit up the sides. A narrow band of fabric, only four inches or so thick, rides her hips, connecting the front of the dress to the back. The back rides low enough that I can see the top of her ass. Red four inch heels, tied around her ankles, complete the look. It's clear she isn't wearing a bra, but I don't know if she has panties on under the skirt. 

Mom glides into the room, letting the skirt swing and sway, alternately covering and revealing her long, toned legs. Her tits swing around unsupported on her chest, and I can almost hear the strain in the straps as they try to hold back her massive mammaries. Mom puts a crooked finger between her lips and eyes me suggestively, hips cocked, one leg bare, the other hidden. 

Where has she been hiding this wardrobe? I wonder, as I furiously tug at my cock.

Mom leans forward, hands on knees. Her tits swing out like low-hanging fruit, full and succulent and all but revealed. The fabric of the dress stretches and rolls, revealing the upper arc of each pink areola, but seems stopped by her hard nipples. Mom sucks a little on that finger, pulls it free. It glistens wetly with her saliva. 

Mom straightens and teases a nipple through her dress top with the wet finger. Probing, poking, twisting. Her other hand cups and kneads the other breast, and it starts to pop out of its meager confines. Mom smirks and hooks her hands up under the straps, letting them fall off her shoulders. She peels the front of the dress down off her breasts, which pop free with a sexy bounce. 

I reach a minor climax, coaxing another impressive load from my balls, emptying it in to the beer stein at my feet. Mom hisses, hips shaking, eyes half-lidded. Her tongue darts out to trace her lower lip. She teases her nipples, cups and bounces her breasts, squeezing them together, pushing them up against her chest so that her breasts flow over her clutching fingers, nipples scraping against her palms. 




Hexed Ch. 03



Mom spreads her legs, the skirt draping between them. She throws her head back and her tits swing up, then bends over quickly, sending them bobbing in the other direction. Mom's hands run down her sleek, muscular legs and she grips her ankles. Long black hair obscures her face, but I hear her panting and see her breasts swinging and swaying enticingly. She unfolds from her position, sliding her hands back up her legs, but keeping them splayed. 

Mom reaches the small span of fabric on either hip and unsnaps them. She swings the skirt to the left and right, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the abbreviated red panties she wears. Hardly a thong, just a tiny triangle of satiny red fabric covering her mons, connected by a thin red string that rides across her hips. She rotates slowly, still swinging the skirt, shaking her ass, and I see that the dental floss rides deep into her ass crack, making the globes of her scrumptious ass effectively naked. 

Mom leans over again, flexing her toned calves and creamy thighs, thrusting her magnificent butt into the air. She flips the skirt up onto her bare back, allowing me to drink in the sight of her enormous, shapely backside. 

I stroke myself to completion again. Pearly white cream erupts in streamers from the end of my cock, splattering with sickening sounds in the growing pool within the stein. The cum oozes down the slick sides of the glass, thick, viscous, steaming. I can't get the scent of blueberries out of my nostrils. 

Mom braces herself on the floor with one hand, legs still splayed, skirt up on her back. She eases aside the tiny fabric of her panties, revealing the engorged, coral pink lips of her moist pussy. Two fingers dip within, teasing her folds. Phantom caresses run up and down my cock as Mom's hips rise and fall to the rhythm of her fingers. Her fingers and thighs glisten with her juices. Her breath comes in short sharp gasps. Suddenly she drops to her knees, the muscles in her legs spasming. The globes of her ass bunch up, and her back muscles tighten. 

I cum along with her, adding more and more to the stein. I'm getting light headed. I should be dehydrated or having a heart attack, or at least be chafed beyond belief. Yet the hex keeps me lubricated and energized. 

The stein is just over halfway full. It's disgusting and arousing in equal proportion, but the ratio begins to tip in the latter direction when Mom looks over her shoulder at it, and without touching herself, appears to have a mini-orgasm. I squirt too, a somewhat modest amount compared to previous efforts, but still more than should be possible. 

Mom ducks her head, catching her breath, and when she looks up again, she wears a dazzling, sexy smile. She leaves the room on all fours, wiggling her ass every step of the way, and only gets to her feet when she reaches the hall. Mom winks salaciously at me. "Hold on tiger," she says, and darts away. 

I slump back on the pillows, breathing heavily myself. I am drenched in sweat, except from the waist down, which is drenched in precum. 

What is happening to me? This is all getting out of hand. Okay, right, I shouldn't have eaten the pie, but give me a break, I was drunk. I mean, I am enjoying myself, as much as one can, but every new development just sets me off kilter a little more. If I wasn't so constantly horny and aroused, I would be going insane.

These are the thoughts that occupy my mind while I wait. 

How is Mom dealing with this? She's not tiny. She's not stuck at a fraction of her own height, imprisoned in her own home. Why is she giving in to this lust? She could have left me here for the weekend and escaped, or something, but instead she is throwing herself fully into this twisted sexual game. She's enjoying this, making suggestions, planning things, using me. 

What is going on in that big, beautiful head of hers?

Reason flees again as Mom slithers into the room. Her long black hair is tied up and pinned with long pieces of lacquered wood that look like chopsticks. Big hoop earrings dangle from each ear, decorated with little green stones. Her bra is bright green, with a solid half cup beneath her breasts, and a see-through mesh along the top. Her belly is bare, declining into a green pair of panties that hug her hips. The front is already noticeably darker than the rest of the fabric, and it's clearly molded to her lips. Her legs are bare, smooth and toned, but she wears a pair of open toed three inch heels, also green in color. Over it all is a green silk kimono etched with a sinuous black dragon. 

Mom stands with fists on hips, pushing the kimono open and displaying her generous assets. One foot curls inward. She smiles with half-lidded eyes. 

She shrugs, slipping the kimono backward and baring her shoulders. Her tits shiver in the confines of her green bra. Mom reaches up and pulls first one and then the other pin free, letting her hair fall out in dark curls down her back. She shakes her hair out and lets the kimono slip down her arms until it is caught in the curve of her elbow. The back of the kimono flutters against her knees. 

Mom makes a few steps across the room, getting closer to the bed, where I stand admiring her and wanking furiously. She watches me, a slow smile spreading across her full lips. She reaches up to the front of the bra and unsnaps it, peeling the cups away from her breasts, which bobble and jiggle and shake, settling on her chest. She flicks her nipples with her fingers, teasing them, making them harder and harder. 

With a grunt, I erupt once more. My distended cock throbs and bucks in my hands, spraying more ropes of creamy cum into the stein. Mom nods approvingly while she continues to play with her breasts. In some complicated, practiced maneuver that I barely follow, Mom manages to extricate herself from her bra without having to remove the kimono. 

Mom bends down, cupping her breasts as they dangle off her chest, and swings them with her hands, to and fro, back and forth. "You love Mommy's big titties, don't you Robbie," she whispers. She is close enough that her breath washes over me, cooling the sweat soaked hair sticking to my scalp. Mom laughs at my expression, not unkindly, and crouches down at the edge of the bed. Her titanic breasts rise up and over the lip of the comforter, and she continues to manipulate them with her hands. She lifts first one and then the other to her lips, lashing each nipple with her sinuous pink tongue. 

"Cum for me, Robbie," she whispers. "Cum for Mommy."

So I do. The first jet arcs over the edge of the stein and actually splatters across Mom's left breast, causing her to squeal, but I aim the rest of my climax into the stein. The level is rising rapidly. I think I'm going to fill it soon. Which is insane and hot and sick. 

Mom stands up, taking a step backward. She is shaking with the reverberations of her own orgasm. She abandons her breasts. Both hands flutter down her smooth belly to her panties. She poses a bit, making quarter turns that show off her breasts in profile, and also allow her to hike up her panties along her hip line, emphasizing the width and curve of her hips. But then with a shuddering breath, Mom pulls the panties down her legs. The fabric comes free of her pussy with a wet, sucking sound. She pulls them down to mid-thigh, before bringing her hands back to the delta between her legs. One hand parts her lips with the thumb teasing her clit, while the other hand sends two long fingers into her depths to part and tease her juicy pink folds. 

It doesn't take long before Mom sets herself off, triggering my own climax. She curls over, panting and shaking, while I aim my dripping, spraying rod into the stein. The level is near the top, and I can almost feel the warmth radiating off from the sea of spunk. 

Mom winks at me and offers me a sultry smile. She totters out of the room on weak legs, panties still stretched between her thighs. "One more, I think," she says aloud, but softly. She looks back at me over her shoulder. I admire her full ass, and the way her huge tits hang so wide and full that I can still see their outer curves even when from behind. "Needs to be special," she adds, but I'm not sure she's talking to me. Mom pauses to wipe clean the spray of sperm on her left breast, sucking it off her thumb.

I slump back on the pillows. My dick is still rockhard, and even through the layer of precum that coats its surface, it looks red. Almost swollen. I've been giving it considerable punishment the last few hours. It's still raging, and I'm still monstrously horny. I wonder again what exactly Mom is feeling. This can't be any less strange for her, but she's throwing herself into it with total abandon. 

Maybe I shouldn't have done that trick with the shot glass after all. At the time, I could barely think. My action was the only one I could fathom taking. Why is my mind clearing now, even if just a little bit? Is it because I'm alone, or because I've been cumming so damn much?

Mom sweeps into the room once more, and I stand at attention.

Her hair remains tousled, as if she just got up from bed. She is barefoot, and wears no jewelry. Her outfit is simple, flowing, and abbreviated. It is wine dark, consisting of a narrow strap around her neck that flares out into two triangles of fabric, decorated with a flowery pattern, to barely cover her huge breasts. The sling is tight, lifting her tits but not supporting them, causing them to ride high on her chest but bulge outwards on both sides. A thin strip of flower print fabric connects them, just beneath Mom's cleavage. Hanging off the "cups" are two long, diaphanous panels that fall to the floor. The way they hang leaves her smooth rounded belly bare and exposes the see-through g-string that adorns her crotch. 

Mom stands in the doorway in that magnificent nightdress, looking spectacular and sexy, and yet there's a look of uncertainty on her face. She looks directly at me, seeming to ponder something. A look of resolve comes over her pretty face. She steps into the room. 

"The lonely mother," she says, "walks into her son's room. He is away at college, leaving her alone in the home they share." She takes the diaphanous panels in hand and swirls them around her ankles. Her unsupported breasts jiggle prettily. 

What is she doing?

"The lonely mother thinks about her son. She misses him. He is so handsome now, a young man, grown tall and strong." Mom's fingers lightly dance across her naked belly. She's not looking at me now, but turning her head around, drinking in the sight of my ordinary, unspectacular bedroom. 

"He looks so much like his father," she continues, "and the lonely mother sometimes finds herself thinking... things. Inappropriate things." Her fingers climb up to dance across her chest. They slip between the fabric of the nightdress and her skin, rubbing and caressing flesh, stretching clothing. 

Mom suddenly raises her arms and throws her head back. "The lonely mother throws herself across his bed, hoping to feel some memory of his warm body against the sheets, hoping to catch one breath of his masculine scent lingering on his pillow."

I'm not sure where this is going, but my dick seems to like it. I am moments away from jetting another load into the stein. 

Mom's hands slip completely under the top of her nightdress, kneading and caressing her gorgeous breasts. "The lonely mother thinks about her son's strong hands, touching her, caressing her, roaming over her full, ripe, lush body." One hand slides down her belly and cups her crotch. And I'm off, spraying jet after voluminous jet into the stein. Mom hitches, sucks in a breath, and teases her gash through her g-string. 

"The lonely mother rolls around on her son's bed. She imagines what his young, virile cock looks like. Long and thick, dripping for her the way she is dripping for him." The panel of the g-string is pushed aside, Mom's fingers go to work. Her breasts pop out of the top, tugged free one after the other, and she kneads and caresses with her other hand. Her knees bend as she begins to shake, unable to remain standing. She kneels slowly on the rug. 

I'm barely touching myself now, my climax triggered by Mom's. My seed goes flying, splattering into the stein. The glass is almost full. 

"She imagines how his cock will feel in her hands, squeezed between her motherly breasts, rubbed against her cheeks. She imagines how her son will taste, how he will fill her mouth, and how quickly she can coax his seed down her throat." Mom's hips hitch, she cries out, and I'm roaring in climax myself. All I have to do is aim it at this point. 

Mom catches her breath. Her closed eyes open a slit, then widen as she takes in the amount of spunk sloshing around in the stein. "Holy fuck," she breathes. She licks her lips, and is suddenly back in character. "She wonders how quickly she will be able to get him to recover, how roughly he will throw her to the bed, how forcefully he will part her legs. The lonely mother wonders how it will feel when her son slides his cock into his mother's sweet, waiting pussy. How it will feel churning inside her, bringing her to ecstatic heights undreamed of, and how, at last, he will feel when his powerful hungry cock empties its load deep... deep... deep... inside her!" Her voice rises with each word, until she is practically screaming at the end, shuddering and shaking with fingers deep thrust inside her. 

I hold the base of my dick, feeling the familiar tingle start, the squeeze of my balls, the sickly fantastic feeling of the cum racing up through my weapon, and finally erupting in wet, sticky splats from the narrow hole at the top. Long arcs of viscous jism spray from my cock, into the steaming mass of cum filling the stein. The level rises to the brim, sloshes over the edge, and drips down the sides in long, gelid trails. 

I slump on the pillow, spent and gasping. My head is spinning. Mom slumps on the bedroom floor herself, her back rising and falling, rising and falling, as she tries to catch her breath. 

Finally she looks up, still gasping, and I see tears in her gray eyes. She blinks them away, suddenly smiling broadly, happily. Mom rises to her feet on shaky pins. "Oh Robbie," she says, her voice raspy, "you did it. You've given Mommy such a treat." 

She tugs the nightdress off and lets it flutter to the floor. In one smooth, quick movement, she divests herself of panties as well. She stands nude and glorious in the middle of my bedroom. Her hair is wild, and trails of golden fluid track down her thighs. 

Mom crosses to the bed. She scoops me up in her left hand and grabs the beer stein with her right. Cum sloshes from the top and splatters her hand. Mom half-shudders. She wasn't kidding – she really is a cumfiend. She's getting off just looking at all that pearly white juice. 

I can barely think. This close to her again, I am overcome with her scent, the mix of her natural smell, perfume, and arousal. She holds me at hip height, letting me look up and up and up to her swaying tits as she carries me and the stein out into the hall and away from her bedroom. We reach the second floor bathroom quickly. She nudges the door open with a foot. 

This room is spare, white, sparkling clean. This is the bathroom I used when I lived here, and it hasn't been touched much since I've been gone. Mom sets me down on the marble top of the sink and sweeps aside the shower curtain. She steps naked into the tub, which is not nearly as wide as the one in her bathroom. 

Mom's eyes are shining with lust and hunger and something I can't quite describe. My dick aches between my legs. I can see fluid glistening on Mom's labial lips, darkening the neat patch of pubic hair just above. Her clit is proud, peeking out of its hood. 

Mom hefts the stein, her hand already nearly coated with cum and drippings. Mom shivers with anticipation. "Oh fuck, I've wanted to do something like this for so long." She breathes deeply. "I never thought it would be with you, though. It makes it extra special, I think. Or maybe I'm just crazy. But that you would do this for your mother... oh, Robbie." She trails off into a moan and lifts the stein to her full pink lips.

With her mouth open, she tips the stein over. The contents sludge over the lip, into her mouth, pouring straight down her throat. She swallows, but the tide perforce overwhelms her. Cream slathers down her chin, drips down her throat in waves, and pours over her heaving breasts. A torrent of my cum streams down Mom's body, rolling in slick, gooey waves between her tits, across her belly, seeping into her pubic hair and washing across her pussy. Cum rolls down her creamy thighs as she kneels inside the tub, shivering in ecstasy. 

From the moment the cream touches Mom's tongue, she starts cumming, which triggers my own reaction. I stand on the edge of the sink, watching her flip out as jizz pours over and into her, a tidal wave of spunk, and I start jettisoning another load, straight off the side of the sink onto the floor. 

Mom is moaning as the last dregs of spunk slip out of the stein and into her mouth. Her free hand roams over her body, smearing the goo into her skin, rubbing it around, making trails, soaking it in. Her eyes are closed and her pussy is clenching with need as she rides a perpetual orgasm. I spring across the gap between sink and tub, landing lightly on the edge. My cock is still spraying, and I slip a bit, suddenly off-kilter. For a moment I fear I'll topple over the side and crack my skull open, but somehow I manage to stay upright. I grip my cock with both hands and point it in Mom's direction, sending a near continuous stream of cum arcing towards her. It feels so good it is almost painful, and I appreciate what it means to be multi-orgasmic. 

Mom doesn't seem to notice me. She sets the stein down in the basin of the tub. She squats on her calves, undulating her belly, tensing the muscles in her legs, making gooey cum run down her flesh. With both hands free she begins to scoop cum up off her body and feed it to herself, sucking and licking her fingers with loud smacking sounds. Cum bubbles form on her lips, and she suddenly burps unceremoniously, causing her to open her eyes in embarrassment. This makes her aware of me, and though she reddens a bit, she scoots closer to me. Her skin squeaks on the surface of the tub. 

She draws close enough that my rain of cum strikes her belly, unnecessarily adding to the torrent already staining her from throat to knee. Mom plays with her tits and shoves a hand into her crotch, spreading her pussy lips and shoveling cum covered fingers into her depths. 

This just heightens the feelings washing over my distended, spraying dick. I feel myself growing lightheaded. I've been generating an unearthly amount of man-juice for the past few days, particularly in the last few hours, and apparently my body is finally beginning to feel the toll. I feel stretched thin, worn out. I feel empty. But still I am cumming. 

Mom is shaking and shuddering. She cups a cum smeared hand under my waterfall, and after a little bit pools in her palm, she feeds it to herself noisily, greedily. 

My vision swims. My peripheral vision begins to fog and darken. I'm cumming and I can't stop. I can't... stop. 

I feel my legs slip out from under me. Everything goes black. 

12.

Slowly I come back to myself. 

I awake laid out on the head of my mother's bed, stretched across the length of a pillow, with a small blanket covering my body. My body is clean and smells of soap, which suggests Mom washed me while I was unconscious. My dick, soft while I slept, immediately begins to lengthen and harden as consciousness returns. 

Otherwise, the room is dark and empty. Moonlight filters through the shades and curtains in the windows. I must have been out for hours. 




Hexed Ch. 03



My whole body aches. I stretch, slip out from under the blanket and slip off the pillow. I walk across the bed and leap down to the floor. 

I take my time making my way through the house, looking for Mom. The door to my bedroom is still open, her clothes strewn across the floor. The bathroom at the end of the hall is a mess, still reeks of blueberries. I leap down the stairs.

The living room is dark, but the television is on, casting a cool blue glow around the room. I don't see Mom immediately, but after I bound up to the top of the couch, I find her laid out and unconscious. 

She is dressed relatively conservatively in white capri pants that leave her calves and feet bare, and a tiny blue t-shirt that stretches tight across her massive chest. She has one arm thrown across her eyes, and her hair spills out around her head in a black halo as she reclines against a pillow. Mom snores softly. 

I sit down on the back of the couch and survey the landscape. She really is a beautiful and beautifully formed woman, well rounded curves in all the right places. But she's also my mother. 

This whole thing is just so... so... WEIRD. And then there's the little performance that ended the fashion show. 

I walk to the north end of the couch and slide down the slope of the cushion, coming to land beside her arm. I reach out and give Mom a gentle shake. She shifts, swats at me with her other hand, and rolls over, towards the TV. I slip down between her and the back of the couch. Sudden panic, as I realize what danger I am in. Fear lends me strength, and I bound back up to the top of the couch in one leap as Mom shifts backward. Her shoulders press against the couch, right where I had been a moment ago. 

I navigate down again, to the arm of the couch and around to Mom's front. Her arm is no longer stretched across her face. Her eyes are closed, however, her mouth half open as she sleeps. Her breath, sweet and warm, washes over me, ruffles my hair. 

I pat Mom on the cheek. "Mom... Mom... wake up."

Her eyes open a slit. Pupils dilate, open wider as she struggles up from sleep and realizes what is happening. 

"Robbie?" she says sleepily. "Oh." She blinks, starts to sit up. I wave her back down and she subsides. "Are you okay? I was so worried about you."

"Yeah, I'm okay. A little sore. Very thirsty. But not hurt. I kind of expected to wake up with a broken leg, if I woke up at all."

Mom smiles. "I caught you when you slipped off the edge of the tub. But you were already unconscious. I guess I wore you out." She blushes slightly. 

"Yeah, well, that was a pretty intense afternoon."

Mom laughs uncertainly. "Yeah. You, uh, you saw some strange corner's of your mother's psyche. I hope I didn't scare you or weird you out." She laughs again. "I mean, I hope I didn't scare you too much or weird you out beyond repair."

"No, no, it's okay. I mean, yeah, I wasn't really prepared for all of that to happen. But it was also pretty hot. I guess it's just a little odd finding out your Mom is so... um..."

"Fucked up?" she says. The blush has deepened. She's not quite looking at me, even though I'm standing in front of her face. 

"I was going to say 'kinky.'" 

Mom's gray eyes refocus on me. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's not bad, it's just... I don't know. I dated a woman in Australia for a couple weeks. Older lady, in her late thirties, and she liked me to tie her up. It never really did anything for me, but she enjoyed it."

"Really?" Mom says. "You never mentioned this woman before."

"I guess we had to have sex together before we could have frank and open discussions about sex," I say somewhat lightly. But instead of making her smile, it only makes her frown. 

"I'm such a horrible mother." She sighs. "You should be able to trust me with that sort of thing, Robbie. You can tell me anything."

"I guess I can."

We stare at one another for long moments. I feel uncertain, unbalanced. Even after what she's just said, I'm not sure I want to ask my next question. But I think I have to. 

"So, Mom."

"Yes?"

"I have to ask. About, um, that last thing you did. The monologue, performance, whatever." I take a deep breath. My body is betraying me, as my cock is getting harder, throbbing right in front of her. "The 'lonely mother' thing."

Mom turns bright red. She blinks rapidly. Her full lips part, she takes a deep breath, closes them again. "Yes, that."

I nod. "Yes, that."

She giggles, a nervous sound. "It's complicated. I made it up on the spot. And yet it's been in the back of my head for a long time." She sighs, looks away, looks back at me. "Your father has been gone a long time. You look a lot like him. A lot. And you've been away most of the last four years, especially the last few months. Once in a while, the thought has occurred to me, and not in any kind of a serious way mind you, that it might be nice to kiss you. Like a woman kisses a man, not like a mom kisses a son. But just passing thoughts. Not even a full blown fantasy. 

"And then... this whole situation happens. And here we are, having a sexual relationship. I just thought I'd play with that idea a little bit. I think we both enjoyed it." She pauses, gauges my reaction. "Did you?" she asks in as quiet a voice as a fifty foot woman can manage. 

My turn to blush furiously. "I did, I think. No, I know I did." I look down at my rampant cock, give it a flex. "No use lying about it, you can see what my reaction is."

Mom laughs, some of the tension draining from her face and voice. "I'm glad. I don't want to do anything to hurt you or drive you away. I know I enjoyed it too." She sighs again. "Now what about all the cumplay? Did that gross you out entirely?"

"A little bit," I say honestly. "But it was pretty hot too."

She breathes a sigh of relief, ruffling my hair again. "Oh, good. I was worried about that, too." She pauses, looking at me intently. "Should we stop this?"

So. There's the question of the hour. Part of me wants to say "yes." This is sick and wrong. Perverted and depraved. But a bigger part, maybe the part throbbing between my legs, urges me to say "no." Still, it's a serious question, and it deserves serious debate. So I tell Mom what I'm feeling, how I'm conflicted, not sure what I want, what we should do. 

"I have to be honest with you, Robbie. The last few days have been two of the most intense and enjoyable of my sexual career. I have... cut loose with you in a way I haven't ever before. I don't know if it's because you're my son and I feel I can trust you completely, or because you're trapped at that size and I can basically do whatever I want with you. That you seem to be enjoying yourself as much as I am just sort of eggs me on, makes me lose my mind a little bit. So that's a bit of a pro and a con. I'm the adult, the parent, and I shouldn't let myself lose control like that, especially around you."

"We're both adults, Mom. We're both complicit. But if I ever said 'no' to you, you would stop. We both know that."

She frowns. Even then, she's extraordinarily pretty. "I'm touched that you believe that, honey. But I'm not sure I would. And I'm not sure I can entirely blame it on the hex. My subconscious is a pretty dark and scary place. 

"I've been thinking about things this afternoon, while you've been resting. Why did I make the pie a blueberry pie? I know it's your favorite. Why didn't I throw it out when you came home? Instead I just left a note, which you have a habit of ignoring. Did I want this to happen? Did some part of me engineer this whole scenario, just to put you under my power and have my way with you?"

I look at Mom, stricken. I can't say those thoughts haven't occurred to me, but I dismissed them. Mom isn't that calculating or heartless. There are tears in her eyes. I step forward and put a hand against her cheek. Unfortunately, my dick nudges up against her lips, eliciting a gasp from both of us. I tug it back and hold it away from her, trying to awkwardly and poorly hug her. 

"Mom," I say, "you couldn't have intended this to happen. It was an accident. I don't blame you – no one made me eat the pie. And you were doing pretty well hiding your own arousal up until I jacked off into the shotglass. If anything, I'm to blame."

The salty tears flow down her cheeks, across where my hand touches her cheek. But she's smiling. I feel a huge hand against my back as Mom pushes me towards her. I hug her face, while her hand hugs my whole body. "Oh Robbie, I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mom."

Still holding me against her, she says, "I guess the blame game isn't going to get us anywhere. We have to answer the question that we've been avoiding. Do we continue with this dalliance? Or control ourselves?"

My dick, slick with precum, slips out of my grasp and slaps against Mom's lips. Her tongue unconsciously darts out to give it a taste. I shudder with pleasure.

And I suppose we have our answer. We couldn't control ourselves if we wanted to – I think we'd just make ourselves miserable if we tried. What was it Mom said a day and a thousand years ago? Oh yeah: we'll just have to ride this out. 

Might as well have some fun while we do. 

I grip the base of my cock and manipulate my rod, rubbing the spongy head against Mom's plush lips, leaving a tiny trail of precum which she avidly licks away. 

"I think we should enjoy this while it lasts," I say. 

Mom smiles. Her lips purse, kissing my cock lightly. "I'm glad you feel that way."

I lean down and kiss Mom on the cheek, a tiny peck that I am sure she barely feels. I crane my neck towards the other end of the couch and leap away, landing at her feet. 

Mom starts. "Where are you going?" 

"I'm going to undress you," I say, puffing out my chest. 

"Oh, are you?" she says with a laugh. "Should I stand up?"

"No, stay where you are. Lay in the middle, if you would."

Mom complies, shifting on the couch so that she lies on her back, legs slightly spread, arms wide, huge breasts slowly rising and falling. A bemused look is on her pretty face as she watches me approach her across the couch cushions. 

I clamber up onto her crotch, which starts her giggling. I try to keep a straight face as I struggle with the button. Finally I wedge it through the loop. Next is the zipper, which I grab with both hands and tug forcefully. It comes slowly, but it comes. With a rasp, the zipper opens up, revealing a pair of plain white panties beneath. I hop up onto Mom's hips and start curling the waistband down, but it's like the pants are painted on. Mom laughs lightly. I flash her a stern look over my shoulder. 

I leap down to her ankles and tug on each pant leg in turn. My strength belies my mass, and the pants begin to draw down Mom's legs. I'm aided by the fact that Mom has lifted her ass off the couch. But the pants are catching on that ass, full and round and perfect as it is. 

I spring back to Mom's hips, first on the right and then on the left, and work on rolling the pants down off her hips and butt. She steadies herself on her palms, watching me work, offering neither encouragement nor hindrance. I am sweating buckets from the exertion, but whatever my metabolism is doing, it's generating plenty of energy. I'm not tired. In fact, I'm getting more and more excited. 

Once the pants are off her hips, they're a little easier to move. The mass of them as they bulk up on her thighs makes it difficult, but by leaping over and pulling on her pantleg, I'm able to slip them off completely, relatively quickly. 

Once they're off, Mom stretches her legs, spreads them, and then makes a little bicycle movement with them. Her feet flash by overhead, and I admire the way the muscles in her thighs and calves flex. 

The t-shirt is next. I spring back to Mom's waist, and make a short hop up onto her belly. I grab the bottom edge and start to roll it up and over her smooth, softly rounded belly. Mom shifts underneath me. Her butt now planted on the cushion, she sits up, allowing me to lift the back of the t-shirt along with the front. Mom's belly shivers under my feet - she is slightly ticklish there, as I approach the mountains of her breasts. 

I pause just beneath them, scratching my head in mock consternation. Mom laughs loudly, which unbalances me and sends me spilling down her belly to land in the V between her legs. I can feel the heat radiating off her pussy through her panties. Plenty of time for that later. 

I clamber back to my feet, eliciting a hiss of arousal from Mom as my carefully placed weight bumps against sensitive parts of her anatomy. I spring up to her breasts, catching hold of her bra under shirt, and climb up onto the shelf of her right tit. With a smirk, I slip under the V-neck collar into her cleavage. My feet sink into her soft skin, and my legs slip between her breasts. Her flesh envelops me, pushes against me. I grab t-shirt fabric with both hands and start tugging, gradually and insistently pulling it over my head. Her scent is all around me, filling my breath, soaking into my skin. 

The bra, like her panties, is a plain white affair with smooth cups. It comes into view as the t-shirt bunches up over my head, finally pulled over her enormous breasts. 

I slip out of Mom's cleavage with a little reluctance, leaving a tiny puddle of precum behind. I crane my neck, looking over the bunched up t-shirt into Mom's eyes. She is smiling broadly, one brow arched with curiosity. 

"And the sleeves?" she says. 

Damn. Hadn't considered those. I look with genuine consternation at Mom's shoulders. "Lay back, please," I say, "and raise your arms."

"Yes, sir," Mom says, chuckling. She reclines, raising her arms over her head. This serves to lift her breasts as well, and I rise with them. 

With Mom's co-operation and a little jumping back and forth and a lot of tugging, I get the t-shirt over Mom's head. With that done, I can grab the sleeves and pull first one and then the other along the length of her arms. Mom slithers her hands through the sleeves for me, allowing the shirt to fall off the arm of the couch and pool on the floor. From beside Mom's head I survey my handiwork, hands on hips, breathing heavy and sweating profusely. 

Mom's enormous, curvy body is laid out before me, clad in a modest white bra and panty set. Her pale skin glimmers in the subdued light from the TV screen. With arms raised, her breasts are pushed together, creating a deep canyon between them. Her smooth belly flows into her pubis, momentarily hidden beneath her panties. She is rubbing her thighs together in anticipation. 

"Sit up again, please," I say, and Mom complies. 

"Of course, dear." Her smooth back rises before me, long dark hair hanging over her shoulders. She turns her head, looking over at me with one eye and a smirk twisting her full lips. Using the couch arm as a ledge, I lean forward and reach for the hooks at the back of her bra. Mom's hand comes behind her, hovering nearby to catch me or lend me aid. I ignore it, struggling with the hooks. There are six of them, which seems excessive at the moment, but are probably important given how much weight they have to support. It's like trying to throw six deadbolts all at once. 

Mom throws her shoulders back, lessening the tension a bit. I get one hook free, and the others follow in quick succession. Gasping, I wipe sweat from my forehead and sit back for a moment to catch my breath. I let myself admire the smooth musculature of her back, a field of flesh that fills my vision. 

"You okay back there?" Mom asks. 

"Yes," I grunt. "Just catching my breath."

"Do you want me to-?"

"No," I say quickly. "I'll do it." I take a few more quick breaths and leap up onto Mom's right shoulder. She sways a bit with the impact, and I have to grab a lock of hair to keep from tumbling to the floor, which looks very far away. This yields a yelp, for which I quickly apologize. Still, I'm going to really miss this crazy agility when I recover my height. 

"You could warn a girl," she says, a little grumpy. 

I let go of her hair and balance myself on her shoulder. Reaching down, I lift up the shoulder strap just a bit and let it fall. I gently pull some of Mom's hair aside and whisper into her ear, "Hold still." I bend my knees and launch myself over her head, coming to land quite ably on her other shoulder. The back of the couch will cushion my fall if I lose my balance. I repeat the action with her left shoulder strap, letting it fall onto her upper arm. 

Mom has half turned her head to watch me. No longer grumpy, she is smiling, quietly amused at the little monkey leaping around and denuding her. I can't resist leaning in and kissing her lightly on her plush upper lip, which just makes her smile even more broadly, flashing me a little teeth. 

With a nod, I sit down on Mom's shoulder and slide down her collarbone and onto the upper part of her left tit. Using my legs and then arms, I push the huge cup free of her breast, then slip off the slope of her boob and land lightly on her belly. I scramble, turn around, and continue to remove the bra from her breast. It comes reluctantly, and I realize I have to get the other one going before I can get the whole thing off. I step across Mom's ribs, and grab the underside of the right cup. Lifting and pulling, I soon have it free. I now reach for the center of the bra and give a few strong tugs. Mom assists with a shrug of her shoulders, which sets her boobs to jiggling, but also loosens the straps and allows me to remove her bra completely. I lift it up over my head and toss it off the side of the couch. 

I am once again face to face with Mom's magnificent breasts. Each one full and firm, and nearly as large as my entire body. Her areolas are flushed, nipples hardened. Her breasts rise and fall with each breath, and I can smell the lotion she rubs into her skin. I'm glad it's not baby powder – I'm not sure I could take that scent right now. Whatever it is, it's sweet and clean and fruity. 

I can't resist closing in, choosing her right breast for a hug that wraps my whole body around it. Her nipple nudges up against my stomach, and my engorged cock leaves trails of precum on her pale, soft flesh. 

Mom unceremoniously plucks me from her tit, pulling me off it and depositing me on her belly while she reclines backward on the couch. "You're not done yet," she says. 

I look down the sweep of Mom's belly at the sensible white panties she is wearing. They hug her hips and cup her sex. I can see a wet spot dampening the front. 

I slide off Mom's flank and onto the couch. I slip my fingers under the edge of the fabric on her hips and tug it down. I have to leap across her, back and forth, to inch the panties off her hips. As the bottom edge starts to bunch up against her ass, she lifts up a little bit, balancing on hands and feet, legs spread. I tug and pull, and pull and tug, but the leverage just isn't there. Mom's plush ass is just too full and springy. 

With a resigned sigh, I wave my hand to catch Mom's attention before sliding underneath her like a mechanic working on a car. I am all too aware of her immense weight hovering over me as I shimmy across the couch cushion and grab at the bunched up fabric near the top of her crack. I give it a sharp tug and it finally comes free, sliding across Mom's skin and almost snapping me in the face. 

Mom's cheeks kind of bounce over my head, and I get lost in admiring her perfect pulchritude for a few moments. I'm brought back to reality by Mom's voice. "Robbie? What are you doing down there, honey?"

I roll out from underneath her, and as soon as I am free Mom lowers herself down. Her naked ass settles into the cushion, and I suppress a shudder. The worse thing is that my cock is inexplicably harder, as if contemplating my own messy death excites it. 




Hexed Ch. 03



I shake it off. I can smell Mom's juices, a sweet and pungent perfume that focuses my mind on my task. I bounce up on my feet and leap between Mom's slightly spread legs. Her sumptuous thighs rise like walls on either side of me, and the tent of her panties still covers her pussy. I clamber up on her thighs this time, gradually working the panties downward. I don't rest until the damp spot peels away with a slight sucking sound, accompanied by a sharp indrawn breath from Mom. 

I look up at her with a grin, breathing heavy through my nose. My muscles are burning, stretched out, feeling good. I'm ready for a real workout. 

So is Mom, apparently. She shifts on the couch, lifting both legs up. This knocks me from my perch, and I roll into her lap. Mom sweeps her panties off her long, long legs and tosses them aside. 

"Such impatience," I gasp. 

Mom gives a dainty shrug. "You're fun to watch, but you're taking too long." She sweeps me up in both hands and brings me to her lips. First she kisses my belly, pressing her full lips against my rockhard abs. Next she drags her tongue across my entire body, starting at my feet and slurping across my ankles, thighs, crotch, abdomen, chest and head. 

"Mmmm, salty," she says. "You worked up quite a sweat, little man. You're not thinking of taking a break, are you?"

"No, ma'am," I say, cradled in her palms. I give my cock a flex, causing it to jump between my legs and snap a long drizzle of precum outward, spiraling towards Mom and eventually splattering against her collarbone far below. 

Mom smiles broadly. "That's good," she says, almost purring. Her eyes narrow mischievously. "Well, you've captured your giantess. You've undressed her. What do you intend to do next?"

"Time for the ravishing," I declare. 

Mom's eyes widen. "That sounds... exciting. How do you intend to do that?"

I smile. I wedge myself up onto my feet, balancing myself awkwardly in Mom's palms. Her arms shiver as she tries to create a suitable platform for me and not let me tip over. I leap off of her hands, causing her to loose a "whoof," sound of surprise, and land lightly on the couch cushion on her right flank. Above me towers her massive boobs, and to my own right her hip curves out, almost to the edge of the couch. 

I clamber up Mom's arm, using her side and boob for leverage, and clamber up onto her collarbone. I blow her a kiss and slip down onto her right breast. My body is slick with sweat and Mom's saliva, and I slither around on her tit, losing my grip and slipping into her cleavage. 

"Ho ho ho," Mom booms, trying to be funny. She squeezes her tits together, trapping me between them in a prison of soft, succulent flesh. Laid out on my back in her cleavage, I wiggle and scoot my way across her breastbone until I can get my head and shoulders to peek out the top. I wedge my arms free and brace them along the top of Mom's breasts. She looks down at me, and I crane my neck to look up past her chin and nose and try to catch a gray eye. 

Mom's full lips twist into a smirk as she starts to lift and lower her massive tits, sliding them across my body, rubbing me down, squeezing me gently and insistently. She is titfucking my entire body. My cock nudges against her cleavage, leaving trails of precum. I see Mom's large hands kneading her breastflesh, her fingers caressing and teasing her big, hard, pink nipples. Her tits ripple and jiggle and shake around me, and I bounce between them uncontrollably. My hips jerk backward and forward, driving my cock into her breasts and between them. The angry cockhead peaks out from her cleavage, spraying precum, slickening her flesh. 

Mom moans, a rumbling sound in her chest that vibrates against my back and shakes my whole body. Beneath me, her butt presses into the couch cushion and her thighs rub together. 

"I want to see you cum between my tits," Mom says breathily, huskily, and it's as good as a command. The next moment cum is racing up through my distended cock, erupting from the tip and spraying in ribbons across Mom's breasts. Her pale skin is painted white by the titanic volume of my eruption. She keeps squeezing me with her tits the entire time I am cumming, constant insistent encouragement. Almost as much covers her breasts as ends up slickening her cleavage and spraying across my chest. 

Finally when my cock stops shuddering and spurting, Mom lets her tits fall away from me. Her fingers swipe across the puddles and feed jizz into her lips. She grabs my legs and pulls me down through her cleavage, which serves to add another layer of frosting to my skin. When I'm dragged free she lifts me up by both legs, letting me hang upside down over her breasts. 

Blood rushes to my head as Mom carries me over to her mouth and proceeds to lick and kiss the cream from my body. My dick bobs between my legs, the weight and curve of it almost pinning it to my chest, letting the mushroom tip point at my head. This is not altogether pleasing, although Mom's lips and tongue caressing my every inch helps to distract me. I'm also getting lightheaded hanging upside down like this. 

When I am sufficiently clean in Mom's estimation, she slips my cock between her lips and gives me an upside down blowjob. I grab her chin with both arms and brace myself against it as I thrust my hips into her mouth, driving my cock between her lips. Her agile tongue tip teases and flicks my cockhead as it drives between her lips. Warmth and moisture wash over me. Saliva and other fluids slip under her lower lip and pool against my abdomen. 

Mom's hand pins me against her face, keeping my hips from moving, her palm all but squashing my butt, her nose splitting my legs apart, breath cooling my balls. Her lips and tongue assault my engorged cock, and before long I am exploding again, spraying ribbon after ribbon of goo into her mouth. She swallows greedily. I watch her throat work. 

Mom sets me free with another lash of her tongue against my ever hard cock. She carefully turns me around in her palms. Vertigo assails me. Head spinning, blood swirling around my compressed frame back to where it should be flowing. I blink, breathing hard, and the world goes out of focus for a few moments. 

"You okay?" Mom asks sincerely. 

I shake the fog from my head, give her a thumb's up. 

She sets me down on her sticky, blueberry scented breasts and examines me closely. "I'm fine," I say, "just a little light headed."

"You're red in the face," she says, "and not in a good way."

"I'll be okay in a sec." The world slowly returns to normal, or as normal as it can be when you're just shy of nine inches tall. 

Mom still looks concerned, but she brightens when I clamber to my feet in her cleavage and begin walking down her belly towards nirvana. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asks. I offer a desultory wave. 

Mom spreads her legs wider, hooking one over the top of the couch and setting the other on the floor. I drop down on hands and knees when I hit her belly button and crawl the rest of the way, dragging my cockhead across her skin and leaving a shiny trail of slime behind me. Mom pats my ass cheeks with a finger, not harshly, but in an encouraging way. 

I crawl through the fur of her neatly trimmed bush and approach the apex of her pussy. She is wet and open, glistening with fluid, lips flushed a coral pink. Her clit peeks out from under its hood. Mom can't resist giving herself a swipe, dragging two fingers through her folds and thwacking her clit with her thumb in what appears to be a practiced gesture. My dick throbs in response and releases another hefty glob of precum. 

On my knees, I balance atop Mom's pubis and slide my hands forward, reaching out to caress and rub her sopping labial lips. Her juices coat my hands and forearms quickly, as I knead and push and rub. Her clit hovers underneath my chest. I crane my neck over the shelf of her pubis and survey her steaming gash. Its beautiful, pink, and delicious looking. Were I full size I would dive in and drive her mad with lips and teeth and tongue, but I'll have to make do with my whole body. 

I contort my body, getting my legs underneath me in a semi-uncomfortable crouch, and balance myself with one hand. With the other, slick with Mom's precoital fluids, I grab my huge cock and aim it at Mom's clitoris. I drag my cock over her little nubbin, whack it a little with the head, saw my dick along her clit as if fucking it. My precum mixes with her juices, creating a frothy, pungent mixture. 

Mom shudders around me, under me, and I hear her breath hitching. The muscles in her thighs bunch up. She kicks her feet out and raises both legs halfway into the air. Mom cries out as her orgasm crests. Her pussy floods with juices, and I start cumming as well, spraying a volatile flood of sperm onto her clit and pussy and thighs. I rise quickly and turn around, sending a spray of jism onto her hip before aiming the rest of my eruption onto her belly. 

Mom's hands sweep around me, rubbing my cum into her skin. They caress her thighs, her pussy, her belly. She brings dripping fingers to her lips and cleans them greedily. Lust glazed eyes look down at me through a fringe of dark hair that hangs over her forehead. 

Her hands, slick with my cum and her vaginal fluids, wrap around me and lift me up off my feet. "Fee fi fo fum," she says, "now I'm gonna fuck my son." She laughs at her little joke, a sexy little laugh, but I don't think it's that funny. Mom spins me around in her hands so that my head is pointed at her pussy. 

That doesn't fill me with confidence. At the same time, with my arms and legs pinned, as well as my cock trapped under her hands, I can't really do anything about it. Still, my cock throbs under her fingers, hard and eager. 

"Deep breath, baby," Mom says. I plunge toward her huge, warm, wet, vagina. I suck in a long, shuddering breath as I draw near, knowing that if I protest this, I'll miss my chance to get much needed oxygen. I think of swim practice in high school, and just hope she doesn't leave me in there too long. 

Then suddenly everything is dark and pink and wet. Her folds envelop me, cling to me, caress me. Mom constricts her pussy around my body. Despite myself, I have to admit it feels incredible. Her juices are warm and thick, coating my skin, covering my face and chest and arms. 

From the waist down I feel the cool draught of air outside for just a moment, but then Mom grips my thighs and pushes me further in. Her walls tighten around me as I probe further into her moist depths. I can feel and hear her heartbeat, as well as a sort of rumbling that must be her crying out in ecstasy. 

I kick my calves and feet, which causes my thighs and hips to slam against her inner walls. My lungs burn. I need to breathe. I stretch my arms out as far as I can, pressing against her pink folds. She's slippery and pliant, stretching to accommodate my every move, but rebounding against me as well, tightening around me. 

My heart pounds. Just when I think I'll have to expel the deoxygenated air in my lungs and breathe in a gallon of pussy juice, I am swept back out into the cold glow of the television. I splutter and spit Mom's slick fluids, taking gasping, heaving breaths. 

"Deep breath and hold it," Mom commands. There's an edge of lust in her voice that suggests she's losing it. As if trying to asphyxiate me in her vagina wasn't enough of a clue. Again I forego protesting to take a deep breath, and dive once more into her coral sea. I'm not sure why I keep my mouth shut. I must be enjoying this on some level, being dominated and used, which tells me things about my personality I'd rather not know. 

I thrust my arms and knees and thighs against Mom's inner walls. They push back against me. The heat and the scent are nearly overwhelming. I'm not breathing, but her fluids are on my lips and nostrils and in my mouth, and tasting is the same as smelling. Sweet, salty, light as sea foam and thick as molasses, a mix of contradictive elements that make it perfect and intoxicating. My head swims, and not simply from lack of oxygen. 

Mom shakes and shudders around me, her pussy tightening even more. She's close, I know it. But there are lights flickering in front of my eyes. My lungs feel like they're on fire. And I really don't want to pass out again – especially now, when Mom might not notice right away. 

So when I am swept free from her clutching pussy into the open air, and she gives me another "Deep breath, baby," I exhale all the dead air in my lungs and suck in a quick, sharp breath that gives me just enough air to shout "Mom! Stop!" 

I'm plunging towards her wide open gash as I shout desperately, and my tiny, tinny voice must be barely audible over the blood rushing through Mom's temples. But I freeze in mid-air, arms held out as if to ward off the dive inside her. 

She sweeps me up to her face. I am dripping and spluttering, but each breath tastes sweeter than chocolate and raspberries. "You okay, Robbie?" she asks. 

"Yeah," I say. I can't see her, as my eyes are webbed shut with the vaginal fluids coating my head and face. "Hard... to... breathe," I manage between gasps. "But fun!" I quickly add. 

Mom sighs. "Sorry, baby. I guess I got carried away again." The world shifts as I feel her bring me closer to her face. Her breath washes over me, cooling my wet body. Mom proceeds to lick me clean with her agile tongue, carefully removing her own fluids from every inch of my body. She sucks each of my limbs into her mouth, stretching my tired muscles in the process and giving me a moist massage with her tongue. She even sucks the top of my head between her lips. I press my hands against their plush pink softness to keep my head attached to my shoulders, while she hoovers the goo out of my hair. 

She saves my rampant member for last, and given the preamble, it only takes the lightest of suction from her to set me off. Streamers of cum spray into her waiting mouth. She parts her lips, opening her mouth, and lets me aim my rod to send my spray across her tongue, teeth and gums. A thick white pool forms quickly, which she swallows greedily, happily. 

Mom holds me up and out from her body. "Feel better?"

"Yeah. Breathing is always good." 

"All those years on the swim team, I thought you'd be better at holding your breath," she says with a warm smile. The smile falters. "But I am sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know, Mom. You just got to remember to be careful."

"You're right, you're right. You just make me lose control, Robbie. Worse than anyone."

I smile. "Who can complain about that?"

Mom's lips quirk a bit. "So... I was building to a pretty big one there. Would you mind if we...?"

"Feet first?" I ask. She nods, holding up two fingers. "I'm all yours," I assure her. 

"Yes," she says, "you are." I descend rapidly, carried between her hands to the paradise between her legs. She straightens my body, aims me, and I sink up to my ankles into her pussy. Slowly she dips me further, swallowing me whole, until one arm and most of my chest are sealed within. I flail with my limbs, while Mom alternates between letting me slide out to my waist and pressing my shoulders with her fingers to drive me back inside. 

Heat and moisture and her scent envelop me again, but the ability to breathe makes it all much, much more enjoyable for me. I fuck Mom with my whole body, now using a dolphin kick, now a frog kick, now freestyle. She wails somewhere far above me, hips bucking, pussy lips tightening around my chest, inner walls closing in and caressing me. I am inundated in her juices, basted and baked, and my own orgasm fires off deep within her, sending my sperm spiraling into her soft pink depths. 

When the earthquake subsides, she pulls me free of her pussy with a squelching sound and lays me, battered and exhausted, between her mountainous breasts. Our combined fluids slough off my body and drip onto her flawless skin. Her chest rises and falls, rises and falls, as her heavy breathing begins to slow.

"By the goddess," Mom mumbles, "it will be hard to give this up."

I start a little. A sudden irrational fear blossoms in the back of my head. Mom could keep me this height if she wanted to – I'm entirely dependent on her for nourishment. She could sneak a potion or hex into my food quite easily. But would she? I don't think so, which is why the fear is irrational. Right?

I crane my neck, looking up and seeing little but chin, with her head thrown back. "Mom? You are going to give this up, though, right?"

Mom turns her head, squinting one eye to look down at me sandwiched between her tits. "Yes, of course, honey. Why would I do otherwise?"

I turn red, embarrassed at admitting I'm afraid. "I don't know. I just... I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm having fun giving the situation, but..."

"I understand baby. You won't be this size much longer. It's already been almost two days. There can't be much left for you to, um, to endure."

I sigh. "I'm not 'enduring' anything, Mom. But I am trapped like this, even if temporarily." I slowly clamber upright, using Mom's breasts to steady myself on my slickened feet. "But I can't imagine being trapped like this with anyone else. I feel safe with you, and loved. I know you won't do anything consciously to harm me, and I know you're doing your best to make this whole situation as fun as possible." I laugh. "Even if by doing so, you're making it even more fucked up."

Mom laughs a little too. But I can see she's also a little hurt. There's not much I can do about that. I'm being entirely honest. Giant woman is one thing, incest another. Combine the two? 

"Thank you, Robbie," Mom says. "I do want you to be okay. You'll be back to normal soon. Until then, I'll look after you." She picks me up to give me a chaste kiss against my abdomen. 

But her lips turn up into a sultry tilt. "And drain you dry every chance I get," she adds, giving my diamond hard cock a slurp between her lips which cleans off cum, precum, and vaginal fluids. Before I know it, I'm fucking her face again, dumping another in a seemingly endless series of loads into her mouth. 

13.

We settle down to watch television for a while, me sitting contentedly between Mom's mountainous breasts. It isn't long before I notice Mom's breathing becoming deep and regular, but not until she is gently snoring do I look up. She's definitely out. No wonder, as it's been an emotionally and physically draining day. 

I look around, wishing I could find a blanket or something to throw over her. I know there are some in the closet between the living room and kitchen, but there's no way at my present height that I could open the door, wrestle the blanket out, and drag it across the room, let alone drape it over her. 

So I try waking her, to no avail. She might have been lightly dozing before, but now she's completely out of it. I lean back against one of Mom's soft, firm tits and contemplate my next move. Staying here with her would be unwise, as she has pointed out a few times. Likewise, I don't want to return to her bedroom, in case she wakes up and heads to bed. In the dark, with me unconscious, she might accidentally crush me. 

Guess I'm spending the night in my room. Don't know why that depresses me so much – it is my room, after all. I give Mom one last peck on her full lips that she barely feels and slip off of her body, half-hoping that she'll wake up as I do. But she remains asleep, and I make my way upstairs on rubber band legs by myself. 

The second floor is dark, but for a low light Mom left on in her room. Luckily, my bedroom door is still open, and there's just enough ambient light coming through the window that I can navigate my way to the bed. I walk through a battleground strewn with Mom's castoff clothes, and I pause a few times to admire the feel and smell of her nightdresses, bras, and panties. 




Hexed Ch. 03



Finally I leap up onto the bed and clamber up onto the stacked pillows. Only a few hours ago, this was the site of the most debauched sexual adventure of my life. Its difficult not to think about her as I lie back, naked, uncovered, on the pillow and try to fall asleep. Absently I stroke my erection, but I'm all too aware that I have nowhere to safely unload. As it is, I'll probably wake up in a wet patch. 

I can't wait for this to be over. At the same time... in the deepest, darkest, most twisted and perverse corner of my heart, this experience is amazing and fun. I've discovered fetishes I didn't even know I had. I mean, I am actually kind of enjoying the incest thing. And the size difference between us – I've always been a tit man, and Mom's tits are easily the biggest I've ever seen. The biggest anyone has ever seen. 

And the feel of her, the scent of her, what it's like to be inside her, completely inside her... before long I roll over and send my spew jettisoning off the edge of the pillow to splatter on the comforter below. My dick is still hard. I can't help sighing. 

I roll over on to my back and stare at the ceiling. Sleep comes eventually, but it takes some time. 

Slowly my eyes open. I am lying on the couch in the living room. Warm sunlight drifts into the room through the big bay windows. I am nude, and full-sized, but the silly extra large cock towers from my crotch, erect and angry and leaking precum. I sit up uncertainly, at first wondering how I ended up here and why I'm tall again. The word "dream" echoes in the back of my mind, and I relax slightly. But only slightly. 

I look around. Everything looks odd, slightly weird, as if the interior of the house had been stolen and replaced with exact copies. 

"Mom?" I say out loud. I glance at the bay windows, half expecting a gigantic gray eye to be peering back at me. 

"Down here!" comes a shout at my ankle, high-pitched and feminine. I lean over and see a miniature Mom standing beside the coffee table, looking up at me. 

She's about nine inches tall, shorter than a Barbie doll but just as ridiculously proportioned. She is naked, long dark hair spilling down her shoulders, big tits thrust out, long silky legs slightly parted, hands on hips. She is also, I can't help comparing, shorter than my cock. 

I can't resist reaching down to grab Mom. She squawks in protest as I sweep her up to chest level. She's warm in my hand, soft and wriggling, and I almost let her drop. She scoots her ass into my palm and grabs my thumbs, bracing herself. "Whoah," she says. "Vertigo like you'd never believe."

"What happened?" I ask. 

"You mean why are you big and why am I little?" I nod. "Best guess is that this is another dream. Um, probably mine this time." She looks down at my cock, the head of which brushes my sternum. A huge dollop of glistening precum emerges from the slit and begins the long journey across the swollen head and down the enormous length. Mom swallows, blinking, breathing heavily. 

She can't resist dropping a hand to her crotch, but I quickly pull it out of the way with one finger. She looks up at me, ready to reprimand, and I say, "Uh uh uh. Shoe's on the other foot, Mom. I'm calling the shots." She thinks about this for a moment, eventually smiling. "Besides," I add, "this thing could drown you."

"Good point," she admits. She gives my cock a hungry look. "But what a way to go..."

I think a moment. "Hmmm. Where do you keep your cleaning supplies?" 

Mom looks at me funny. "Why do I assume my son should know the answer to that? Nevermind. Look under the sink. I think I know what you mean."

Carrying Mom, I head into the kitchen. Under the sink are bottles of cleaning fluid, sponges, and a plastic bucket for mopping. It's clean, so I pull it out and step into the middle of the kitchen. The weight of my cock pulls it away from my chest when I stand. It's almost perpendicular to my body. My swollen balls ache.

With a grin, I set Mom down on my distended cock, sitting right at the base. She sits astride it like a horse, legs spread, her tiny pussy dripping onto my hot, hard flesh. She steadies herself with her palms, throws a look of gratitude mixed with lust over her shoulder at me, and leans forward. Her plush tits press into my cock and her arms and legs wrap around my length, or at least as far around as she can reach. 

Mom starts humping my cock, thrusting her hips against me, squeezing me with her arms. My skin is so sensitive I can feel the moisture dripping from her pussy, as well as the moisture from her tongue as she drags it across my length. 

Mom hunches her way up my length, dragging her body towards the angry purple cockhead at the far end. I grip the base of my dick and give it a little shake. Mom tightens her grip – but I have my other hand ready to catch her if I need to. She throws another look over her shoulder, this one less amused. But her face twists in pleasure as I slowly extend my thumb between her legs, pressing the pad of my digit against her tiny pussy. 

Mom grips my cock and thrusts back against my thumb. It's too wide to enter her, but she's so slick and dilated that it might actually fit. Mom thrashes, her little body twisting and contorting on my cock, against my thumb. She cries out, a piercing wail. 

Our link still works in the dream. As her orgasm crests, my first one is triggered as well. Beneath Mom, my massive organ flexes, throbs, and bucks. I have to grab the head of my cock and aim it as the cum thunders up from the base and erupts. Still I'm not quite fast enough. The first ribbon flies across the kitchen floor and splatters the kitchen table. My next rope splatters dully into the bucket, and I keep it aimed as I empty myself utterly. Thick, viscous goo fills the bucket, warm and milky. 

Mom's orgasm doesn't really end. "I can feel you cumming," she wails, clutching my erupting organ as tightly as she can, riding it like a bucking bronco. Her extended orgasm extends mine, almost painfully. Cum sloshes in the bucket, rising almost to the rim. Eventually the flood subsides, and I am momentarily empty, but my cock continues to throb and shudder. I have to peel Mom off my cock to get her to calm down, so that I can too. 

She's a shuddering, sopping, wailing mess in my palms. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," she keeps repeating, shaking in my hands. My cock droops, deflated, and slowly Mom comes back to herself. She looks up at me face and body a rosy color, thighs stained with her juices. 

I smile wickedly. "Deep breath, Mom," I say. Her eyes widen in sudden comprehension as I drop her into the bucket. She plummets about a foot and a half – I'm not that cruel – and lands with a splash. Mom sinks beneath the surface for a few seconds. Suddenly I'm worried that I might have to reach down and pull her out, but just as I bend down on one knee and reach toward the bucket, Mom surfaces, spluttering, hair slicked back, cum streaming down her cheeks and lips and neck. 

"It's so thick, it's like treading water in heavy cream. Jesus Christ, Robbie, this is insane." 

The smell of blueberries is all but overpowering, but the sheer volume of semen ensures there's a bit of a briny smell as well. I wrinkle my nose in distaste, but my dick is starting to stiffen anyway. Probably due to Mom's own arousal. 

Mom kicks with her legs and uses cum smeared hands to wipe her eyes clean and sweep jizz out of her hair. She smiles at me, a wide, gooey smile. Her body shudders suddenly, as she is swept up in a mini-orgasm. My cock rises rampant between my legs in response. Mom cries out and slips beneath the surface again. I see bubbles.

Without thinking I jam my hand into the bucket and grope for her. My fingers wrap around her in seconds and I pull her free from the morass with a slurping sound. Mom coughs weakly and expels a huge dollop of semen from her mouth. My hand and wrist are coated in the stuff, but I don't have time to be disgusted. 

With my free hand I wipe Mom clean, pulling strands of cum off of her dainty body. I get her face clear quickly. Mom coughs. "Well," she says eventually, "you'd think that in a dream, I'd be able to swim through that without drowning." She looks up at me. "Just sitting in that pool made me cum, and I stopped swimming in place, just sank. Thanks, baby."

"No problem, Mom." Despite the situation, my dick is huge and weighty again. "We should clean you up. Upstairs or downstairs sink?"

Mom gives me a look. "This is a dream, Robbie. Normal rules don't apply." And just like that, she is clean and dry, without a trace of goo on her. My hands are clean as well. And in fact, I realize we aren't in the kitchen any longer. 

We're in the backyard, but not the actual backyard with Mom's herb garden and the clothesline and the picnic table, but the dream backyard, with the big pool and the high fence. Curiously, the pool has no water in it. And its Olympic sized, which means a few of the neighbor's houses have disappeared with the expansion of the yard.

I'm crouching on the deck, in the same posture I held in the kitchen, with Mom in my hands. Slowly I stand up. Mom scampers to her feet in my palms. She crosses her arms in front of her breasts and does a quick nod of her head that causes her dark hair to swirl around her. She's doing the other one now; not the witch, but the genie. I expect to see Mom jump up several dress sizes, but instead she dwindles in my palm. I look around in alarm, realizing that she's making me grow this time. All around me the world shrinks. My head swims with sudden vertigo, but somehow I keep Mom in my hands. 

The house drops out of view as the neighborhood expands beneath me. My vantage point changes second by second. In only moments, I have swelled to an impressive fifty foot height. My horsecock extends out from my crotch almost a third of my height – about fifteen feet from base to angry tip. This is getting ridiculous. 

Mom swells in my palm, shooting up to her regular height, which means she's still pretty tiny. 

"I want a proper swim," she says. "I want you to fill the pool."

I shrug. All in a day's work, I suppose. The expected crowd doesn't materialize to gawk and stare; maybe they all moved away after the last dream. I look down at Mom, sitting in my palm with an expectant look in her eyes. 

I bring her up to my face and stick my tongue out at her. Mom laughs. "Be careful – I'm ticklish," she says, but I ignore her plea, lashing at her plush little body with my moist tongue. Mom squirms, at first laughing and trying ineffectually to fend off my tongue, but gradually beginning to moan and thrust her hips. I lick her full breasts, her sweetly rounded belly, her lean arms and long legs. I suck each foot into my mouth and lick her toes. I plant a kiss on each tiny breast, her belly, and between her legs. I spread her legs, bringing her crotch to my lips, and begin to assault her sopping wet pussy.

As I do, I feel huge phantom hands begin to sweep along the log-like length of my distended cock. My tongue is too big and clumsy to enter Mom, but licking her with the tip seems to be doing the trick, as she starts to cry out and shudder in my palm, arching her back and forcing her hips against my mouth. 

I feel the familiar tingle at the base of my foreign cock, and grip it with one hand. I aim the hose at the pool and let it unload. Streamer after streamer explodes from my cock, showering the yard, spraying everywhere. A ribbon of jizz hammers the house next door, shattering windows and knocking in a wall. Most of it ends up in the pool, which gradually begins to fill. I keep teasing Mom's lips with my tongue, driving her mad, extending her orgasm, and my own continues unabated. 

Finally, the huge pool is filled appreciably, and my flood subsides. I squeeze out the last few droplets on the deck, where they make slippery puddles. 

Both of us are gasping and breathing heavily. I set Mom down on the deck. She smiles at me, glowing, her breasts heaving and her knees almost buckling. I feel a little weak kneed myself, and decide to settle down on my haunches. 

Mom waits until I'm seated before taking a running dive, slicing into the pool of cum gracefully. She swims around, from one end to the other, splashing around, having a grand time. In the shallow end she shudders her way through three more orgasms, rubbing cum soaked thighs together while sheets of jizz pour down her chest and back, coat her ass, make her hair and face sticky. The first one brings me erect again, and I have to aim myself into the street for the second two, creating a river of bodily fluids that that laps at cars and driveways, eventually flowing viscously into the sewers. 

When I turn around, Mom climbs out of the pool. Rivers of cum flow off her body, dripping from her hair, her breasts, her stomach, her legs. She shakes, sending gooey droplets soaring through the air. She crosses slickened arms and nods her head quickly, and is suddenly clean and unmarked. Another nod and she doubles in size, growing rapidly until she matches my own height. 

Normally, she's a few inches shorter than me, but she looks me in the eye right now. She's gorgeous. Long dark hair swirling around her shoulders, huge gravity defying breasts, narrow waist, broad hips, long luscious legs, neatly trimmed coral pink pussy. With her gigantic as me, this is a little too much like seeing Mom naked at normal size, and that's actually kind of weird. It's as though the difference in height allowed my brain to rationalize the whole incest angle a bit. She's not my Mom; she's a giantess, a goddess, that sort of thing. 

But there she is looking me in the eye with a saucy glint and a sexy smirk, and there's no denying that this is my mother. The woman who gave birth to me, raised me, nursed my hurts, celebrated my victories, made me dinner, washed my clothes, and loved me. The weirdest thing is that I still really want to fuck her. 

Mom walks around the house towards me. She opens her arms and I take her into a tight embrace. My cock is sandwiched between us, the head nudging up against the underside of her right breast. Mom kisses me fiercely, her tongue thrusting in my mouth to wrestle with my own. I surprise myself a little by kissing her back, just as hard and just as eager. 

My hands caress her back, gliding down across her smooth flesh to cup and knead the globes of her ass. Mom moans into my mouth. She reaches between us to grip my rampant tool, slick with cum and precum. Her fingers slide up and down its length. 

She breaks away from my kiss. "You're going to fuck Mommy," she says breathlessly, "and you're going to fuck the neighborhood when you do. Later, maybe, we'll fuck the whole city."

She does the quick nod thing and the world swims again. Both of us grow as the world dwindles around us. A hundred feet tall, two hundred, three hundred. Houses are crushed to kindling beneath our expanding feet. The street buckles. Car alarms shrill. 

Mom looks like she might nod again, but I put my hands on her shoulders and gently push. She smirks, and slowly kneels. Her hands are busy sweeping up and down my cock. Its length is about a quarter of my overall height. Fifty feet long. Ridiculous doesn't begin to describe it. Mom's lips join her hands as they run up and down my length. She kisses my cock, lightly at first, then stronger, until she is sucking the mammoth head into her mouth and slurping at the precum oozing from it. 

I admire the view. I cast my gaze about at the tiny neighborhood and equally tiny city that sprawls at our feet. It looks curiously empty, for all the little houses and miniature cars and trees and roads. I'd expect a crowd of people watching the giants fuck, but there's no one. No one even fleeing. 

"Where is everyone?" I ask. 

Mom slurps, releases me from between her lips. "I sent them away. It's just a dream, but I don't want to hurt anyone even in a dream. Property, on the other hand...?" She lets go of my cock and curls backward, lying down. Houses crunch beneath her back, ass, and legs. She spans several blocks, and her long dark hair spills across a main thoroughfare. Strands tangle in a garish fast food joint's sign.

Mom spreads her legs and beckons to me. I kneel down between her legs and aim my monstrous cock at her moist, pink gash. My glans nudges her lips open and I slide into her pussy in one smooth movement. She is tight and warm and wonderful, stretching to accommodate my girth. Mom fucks back at me with her hips, and I start to pound her. The earth beneath us literally moves. Buildings collapse. Streets crack open. Miniature explosions blossom as gas mains rupture and power lines collapse. 

Mom's legs wrap around my waist and she throws her weight against me. We roll over, entwined, and I feel houses and buildings crunch beneath my back. Mom straddles me, riding me to orgasm as we destroy the city around us. I grab her huge, bouncing tits with both hands and knead them, enjoying their heft and softness. 

Mom slams her pelvis down into mine and lets loose a roar that shatters windows for miles and miles. I crest along with her, jettisoning rivers of cum into her heated depths. Under my back, the earth cracks open, grinding and rumbling. 

When I open my eyes, I am lying on a pillow in my bedroom, on my side. My cock is deflated, but there's a puddle of cum cooling on the side of the pillow. With a grunt, I drag myself to my feet and find another part of the bed to curl my tired body upon. I feel sleep overtake me once more, hoping that I'll be able to dream alone, or better yet, not dream at all. 

14.

Sunlight streams through the blinds into my room when I awake. I am still tiny, still horny, which is getting old. When does this stupid hex end? When does my life get back to normal? How many more days of debauchery do I have to look forward to? And why am I so ambivalent about them? 

As a young guy, this should be some kind of dream come true. To be used as a beautiful woman's sex toy, no strings attached, would be the secret hope of most guys my age. But the fact that the beautiful woman in question is my mother, and the fact that I'm stuck at the approximate height of nine inches, tends to sour my overall enjoyment. I go back and forth on the experience almost by the second. And I'm worried that the "forth" part, where I'm excited and enjoying myself, is purely the result of the spell involved. While my disquiet and reservations are my true feelings. Even after the talk Mom and I had yesterday, I feel uncertain, unbalanced, unnatural. 

I sigh, loudly, to no one in particular. 

At least my dreams last night weren't as disturbing as the night before. 

"Robbie?" I hear my mother call my name. She must be awake too, and wondering where I am. Without thinking, I call back to her, but immediately smile in chagrin. My tiny voice isn't going to carry all the way to the first floor. I clamber to my feet, bounce off the bed, and hurry down the hall. 

Mom is halfway up the steps when I reach them. Her lush body is wrapped loosely in a blanket, but otherwise she appears naked, her hair disheveled, makeup marred, looking disoriented and concerned. 

"There you are!" she says when I appear. She scampers up the steps, almost tripping on the edge of the blanket, and scoops me up with her free hand, the other one holding the blanket closed around her. She brings me close to her breast, pushing me against their plushness. I can hear and feel the beat of her heart, pounding now but beginning to slow. "When I woke up and didn't see you, I panicked. I was worried something happened to you."

"I'm okay, Mom," I say. "I went up to my room to sleep. I wished we could have cuddled, but after all your warnings, I figured I should find somewhere else to rest."