Smaller Luke Theory
patreon
Field Research - Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2024-10-03 19:23:19 +0000 UTCMy wrist was cramping as I continued to vigorously whisk the bowl of cream.
The new stand mixer I’d bought would do this a lot easier, but it was already occupied, a dough hook working flour and water into a workable form. And besides, I was actually getting a small perverse thrill out of how much harder it was to whip cream at my reduced size and strength.
Honestly, I was pretty pathetic. Now that I’d accepted the situation, I could barely go two minutes without finding some new thing to fixate on, some other minor shift in my relationship to the world around me now that I was over a foot shorter—Jenny had finally formally measured me and I was now a whopping 150 centimeters tall; four feet, eleven inches.
Even the numbers sent a chill up my spine. 4’11”! No question, that was smaller than any adult I’d ever met in real life. And that was after just one pill; I was already due to take another one tonight.
Everything, everything was so much bigger now. The whisk in my hand, the bowl I was using, even the counter rose up higher than I was used to. A few days ago, I’d felt a mix of arousal and dread at each and every realization like this. Now, the dread was gone, and I found myself insatiably horny as every new moment brought me a new manifestation of my kink made real.
Which was just as well, because I had a mountain of a woman that demanded constant attention from her shrunken lover.
One thing that had caught my attention was that it seemed like, unlike Jenny, I was shrinking in proportion. I hadn’t gotten skinnier or anything, I still had the same old beer gut I’d been carrying around for years, and while I’d certainly grown weaker, it didn’t seem like my muscles had gotten any smaller relative to my size.
“The mammalian body plan is much better-suited to getting smaller than it is to getting bigger,” Jenny had explained to me. “Plus, since your weight is going down and not up, we don’t need to worry as much about protecting your joints. There’s no real need to adjust your anatomy, we’re safe to just siphon off your mass into dark matter on a 1:1 scale.”
“How small are you planning to make me, anyway?”
Jenny grinned devilishly before stepping close enough that her tits eclipsed her face. “Well now, that’s up to me, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll just keep shrinking you until there’s nothing left to siphon off. There’s nothing in the math that says we can’t set your mass to 0, after all…”
I swallowed, involuntarily shivering a little.
After a tense moment, she broke character, laughing. “Oh, relax. There are limits to how small we can safely make you. At some point, we have to be worried about whether there’s enough room in your skull for the requisite number of brain cells, and similar issues throughout your body.”
There was something a little concerning—and, I’ll admit, a little sexy—about how nonchalant Jenny was about preserving the integrity of my brain.
Jenny wandered into the kitchen, my heart skipping a beat as I felt the vibrations of her footsteps through the soles of my feet. I was, of course, completely naked; Jenny seemed to always find an excuse to rip my clothes off my body when we were home, and I needed some things I could wear outside.
“It smells fucking incredible in here,” she said, leaning over the counter to study my nude form in appreciation as I continued to furiously stir the bowl.
“Go ahead and shut off the mixer while you’re here. That dough needs to rest.”
“What’s it for?”
“Cinnamon rolls. That much dough should make a dozen or so. I’ve got a raspberry cheesecake setting in the fridge and a normal cake baking in the oven. And… Oh, wait, shit.” I dropped the mixing bowl on the counter and hurried over to the stovetop, where I had a few different pans going: a double-boiler of chocolate, a lemon custard, and a blueberry syrup sauce that I’d fold into the whipped cream to make the frosting for the cake. Everything was on low enough heat that it didn’t need constant babysitting, but it was definitely due for a stir.
I hoped Jenny didn’t really notice the way I blushed slightly as I took note of just how far forward I had to lean to see into the pan on the back burner.
“After this, I’m gonna put a tiramisu together, along with a couple of pies: key lime, blueberry, and good old classic apple.” Dessert felt like the natural move this time, since I hadn’t made any for the last feast I’d prepared. Plus, now that I knew more about how the drug worked, I was less concerned about making sure Jenny was getting a proper balance of nutrients. If the drug just needed to use the body’s energy to fuel its weird dark energy-reaction, then my best guess was that simple carbs would be the most efficient source of energy. That meant sugar, sugar, and more sugar.
Then again, Dr. Walker’s explanation made it sound like the reaction was more nuclear than chemical. Well, whatever. My department was food, not science.
“You’re overdoing it again,” Jenny said with a smile. “There’s no way I’m gonna be able to eat all of this in one sitting.”
“Nope, nope, you’re not getting out of it this time,” I said, tasting the blueberry sauce and adding a squirt of honey to it. “Twice in a row now you’ve given up on finishing everything I make because you get too horny. This time you’re eating all of it. We’re gonna keep loading your body up until the drug wears off, period.”
Jenny cocked an eyebrow. “You’re pretty bossy for a such a cute, tiny li’l thing.”
I turned to look at her, fighting the urge to give into astonishment at her size and beauty, doing my best to maintain my cool. “My kitchen, my rules. That’ll be true no matter how small you make me.”
“Oh really?” She said as she slipped around her kitchen island. Before I could figure out what she was doing, her hands were on the mixing bowl of half-whipped cream.
“Hey!”
With a smug grin, she put the bowl on top of the fridge.
“Hey, c’mon! I’m trying to work here!”
“Hm?” She batted her eyelashes to me, face doe-eyed and innocent.
“That’s for your cake, y’know. I’m doing all this for you.”
“What on Earth is the trouble, Chef? I just set the bowl on the fridge. Get it down if it’s that important.”
My tongue grew thick in my mouth as I struggled to spit out a response, cheeks reddening. “Y… you know that I can’t…”
“Hm? What? Why can’t you.”
“I can’t… I can’t reach it…”
Jenny feigned confusion, looking between me and the bowl, which sat at about her eye-level.
“But… I could reach it. Easily, even. Why can’t you?”
Part of me was actually annoyed that Jenny was interrupting me like this, especially as I thought about how much work I’d put into that bowl so far and how every second it sat up there the cream was deflating.
The rest of me was as turned-on as I’d ever been.
“You know why.”
“I can’t think of a single reason, Chef. You’ll have to explain it to me.”
Blushing furiously, I cast my eyes downward, seeing the tip of my fully erect dick poking out from under my belly.
“Because… I’m shorter than you,” I muttered.
“Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said I’m shorter than you! I’m a lot shorter.”
Jenny smacked her forehead. “Ohhh. Oh right, of course. Gosh, I can be a real airhead sometimes! How could I have ever forgotten that my boyfriend is such a short,” she took a step toward me. “Puny.” Another step. “Little.” Step. “Shrimp.”
I still had enough pride to be embarrassed at the way she was making my entire body quiver.
“Well don’t you worry, little guy. Your big strong girlfriend is here to help you.”
Her hands were at my waist and suddenly the ground was gone as I was lifted into the air. She lifted me up over her head, where I could easily grab the mixing bowl…
And then I immediately dropped it again, the metal clanging against the top of the fridge as her lips encircled my cock. I shuddered and squirmed as she lapped at it with her long, thick tongue, trying hard not to move too much, worried that if I let myself spasm too violently Jenny would lose her grip on me. Instead I just gripped the top of the fridge as hard as I could and let out a long, desperate moan.
A moan which only grew more desperate as I left her mouth as quickly as I’d entered it.
“I’m not hearing any mixing up there, Chef. I’m not stirring mine if you’re not stirring yours.”
With Herculean effort, I seized enough control of my muscles to grab the mixing bowl and started whipping it again, more furiously than ever.
“There you go. Looks like it’s actually my kitchen, my rules,” she said. Her thick, moist lips sucking away at me silenced any rebuttal I could’ve hoped to make. Instead, I just kept at it until I’d formed stiff peaks… and until she’d formed a soft one.
***
The following night, Jenny was lying on a mound of cushions in the middle of the floor, surrounded by desserts, the only light a circle of candles that were (hopefully) spaced far enough out that we wouldn’t know them over as I laid on top of her, furiously kissing her.
I wormed my way out of her embrace. Not because I didn’t love her massive arms around me, but because I wasn’t content to limit myself to just kissing her face. There was far, far too much of her to partake of, and I could only reach so much of it at a given time. She let out a half-sigh, half-moan as I planted a trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone, my hands exploring her titanic breasts.
Plus, breaking off a kiss gave her an opportunity to eat. She grabbed a fistful of cake, effortlessly destroying in an instant all the work I’d put into decorating it, and shoved it into her mouth, licking her fingers as I continued working my way down her body, her vast belly feeling more to me now like a waterbed than anything else.
“You need to eat too, y’know,” she said as she swallowed, breathless. “Doesn’t matter which way the mass conversion goes, the reaction needs energy.”
Taking another fistful of cake and frosting, she generously coated her breast, tracing the nipple that managed to poke through the mess with the tip of a strawberry. I greedily buried my face in her tit, licking and sucking with everything I had, exhaling into her flesh as the sugary sweetness of the cake gave way to the soft saltiness of her skin beneath.
I’d no sooner finished than I felt something hot on my back: the chocolate I’d prepped for dipping the strawberries in. Suddenly the world swirled around me as Jenny flipped over, gently pinning me beneath her as she licked my back clean. I grabbed a cinnamon roll as she flipped us back over, offering one side to her as I bit into the other, crumbs and cream cheese going everywhere.
We continued like that for an hour, or more. Feeding each other, fucking each other, kissing, licking, sucking, eating. We were both disgusting, sticky messes by the time we were full—there was a reason we’d decided to do this on the floor and not in bed.
My eyelids dropped as I rocked up and down with each of Jenny’s breaths. We’d been at this long enough that I was starting to feel a sugar crash coming on. I maybe dozed off for a second or two, before a huge, soft hand was gently patting me awake, as another hand proffered me a tan pill.
“You ready, little guy?” Jenny grabbed the aquamarine growth pill off a small dish near her head.
The sight of the pill shocked me awake. This was what tonight was all about of course, but still, seeing it there before me made me hesitate. This was it. There wouldn’t be any going back from this. Last time, I’d been tricked. If I took the pill this time, it would be completely of my own volition. Five feet—well, 4’11”—was small. Downright scrawny, even. But it was still more or less on the lower edge of a normal adult height. This pill would take me out of that world. I wasn’t just going to be small, but tiny. I had not idea how small I’d end up by the end of all this, but the pill she was offering me would tear away the last threads of a normal life I was still clinging onto, and send me in a much, much stranger direction.
I shoved it into my mouth before I could second-guess the decision. Swallowing it was harder than last time; my throat was smaller, after all.
Jenny giggled, sending my body shaking with the motion of her gut, before following suit.
We laid there for a long, quiet moment as we waited for the pills to kick in, tired from how hard we’d been going at each other and both feeling the effects of so much sugar.
“I love you, Sean,” Jenny whispered sleepily.
“Mmlove ‘ou too,” I answered, my voice muffled by the breast pressed against my mouth.
And then, the tingling started.
The effect wasn’t as intense as it had been the first time—Jenny had increased the side effects of that first dose on purpose, to disorient me while I shrank. This time, she wanted me to feel every second of it, and so did I.
Little pinpricks of sensation spread throughout my body, as though my arms, legs, and torso had all been asleep and were now waking up. I watched as the hairs of my arm stood on end, a rash of goosebumps breaking out all over. Beneath me, Jenny shuddered, reaching a hand over me to start idly playing with herself. I could likewise feel my member growing hard, despite how many loads Jenny had gotten out of it in the past hour, and I started lazily humping the ample, yielding flesh of her belly.
I’d felt Jenny grow on top of me, and felt her grow all around me. But this time, she was growing under me. I could feel myself slowly but surely rising into the air as her body expanded, feel her flesh expanding out in all directions beneath me, the arm draped over me growing gradually heavier. Beyond her, the room itself was expanding, slipping away as I grew smaller.
I started to work my hips more vigorously, before I shook myself out of it. Remembering my own words from yesterday, I crawled to the edge of Jenny’s body—it already took noticeably longer than it had moments ago—and strained to reach the nearest plate, a half-eaten cake still sitting on it. My fingertips touched the edge of the dish, then shrank away; with a shudder of arousal, I stretched a little further, grabbing it and dragging it over, scooping up a fistful of it. Taking bites of it myself, I crawled across the slowly expanding distance to my lover’s mouth and offered it to her. Already, what seemed like a large fistful in my hand only looked like a couple bites to her gigantic mouth. She consumed the food rapaciously as her fingers continued to work her pussy.
I nodded, despite the aching need in my own loins—this would work. Jenny could pleasure herself while I fed her. I crawled off again, finding another unfinished dessert to feed the growth reaction. She took it greedily, moaning from some combination of the taste of the food and the sexual gratification she was feeling in her growing pussy.
My limbs were starting to tremble with need as I went back for a third helping to feed her, the rest of the cheesecake. Nearly half of the thing was left, but she managed to cram nearly the entire thing into her mouth.
I was sweating, nearly hyperventilating as I watched her eat and grow, as I felt my own body melt away drop by drop. I couldn’t resist anymore. Crawling up until I straddled her head, I started fucking her mouth through the cake, screaming in ecstasy at the contrast between the cool cream cheese and her warm tongue.
I was a hypocrite. I couldn’t keep myself focused on getting all of the food eaten either.
A few minutes later, we were both lying on the floor, drenched in sweat and sticky with the remnants of a dozen different desserts, along with our own fluids. We were completely spent.
“We…” Jenny said, breathing heavily. “Really need a shower.”
Comments
Comida Chino
WOW!!! That was incredible! I love this story, you really strike a balance between being realistic and loving interactions and this-is-my-fantasy-come-to-life-and-I'm-too-horny-to-think-straight.
