From your post on the edge of her overturned bra cup atop the seemingly endless mountain of your mom’s clothes you watched as she cluelessly scanned the room for her tiny son. First you watched as she took a cursory glance around the room, stopping to scan over her bed, nightstands, and wardrobe. You, meanwhile, were waving your arms as frantically as you could while still maintaining your balance on top of the precarious pile of clothing. Annoyingly enough, your tiny shouts weren’t quite enough to reach the ears of your unaware mother. You always wished that someone far smarter than you would actually figure out the science behind how tiny guys' voices could sometimes carry well enough for a normal sized girl to hear, and sometimes not. At times you felt like you could have a practically normal volume conversation even from the ground, but at other times it seemed impossible to get a giantess’s attention. This was sadly one of those times.
As Deborah started to check off all of the possible locations for you to be at, other than the very obvious pile of old clothing of course, she moved on to checking her own body. With a slightly sheepish look on her face that demonstrated a strange mixture of part guilt and part humor, she prepared herself to find your tiny body plastered somewhere on her person. First, she lifted one foot and then the other, staring intently at the enormous, pale soles of her understandably large feet, being such a tall woman. She then crudely ran her fingers between each of her toes, in an effort that would have undoubtedly crushed you worse if you would have actually been stuck between them. Coming to the conclusion that you weren’t on her feet, she then moved onto her cartoonishly oversized backside, the one body part that could be appropriately called either your mortal enemy, or your soulmate based on the sheer amount of time you had spent together. She turned around and looked at her ass in the mirror, still clad in her too-small jean shorts that you had noticed earlier in the day. You took a mental note to remind her to donate those shorts as you went through her wardrobe, as they were definitely a relic of a bygone era when Deborah was ever so slightly less curvaceous than she was now.
Your mom dug a hand in each of her back pockets, hoping to fish you out, but came up empty-handed. Finally she groaned out of annoyance at her inability to find you, before looking in the last remaining place in the room. The pile of clothes she had to sort through. There, thankfully, you were still sitting atop the bowl shaped jet black fabric of her enormous bra, because you and her finally locked eyes!
“Oh! Anthony! There you are! You got started already! Have you made any decisions on what I should keep and what I should throw out yet?” Deborah exclaimed excitedly, having completely forgotten that she was the one who tossed you there in the first place due to her excitement from answering the front door.
You rolled your eyes, a habit you had gotten quite accustomed to when dealing with your mom, especially since you were far too small for her to notice most of the time. You briefly thought about reminding her that she put you there in the first place, but you knew it would amount to nothing.
“Uhh, nothing decided yet. I wasn’t sure how we were going to go about sorting through these though. I feel like it would make sense to—” before you could even get your idea out your mother’s booming voice overpowered yours,
“I figured that I would just do a little fashion show with all of this stuff and you could tell me if everything looked good enough to keep or not!” Deborah exclaimed excitedly, not even considering for a single moment that repeatedly stripping down and trying on different articles of clothing in front of her son would be an awkward thing to do. The sad reality was that thanks to your natural bad luck as well as your mom’s inhuman ditziness, you had been tragically exposed to practically every square inch of her body at some point in your life. It was a fact that you took absolutely no joy in, but it was just something that both of you had grown accustomed to thanks to the myriad of accidents that had befallen you throughout your formative years.
You couldn’t even voice your objection before your mom bent down and snatched you in one hand, as well as the black bra that was your previous seat in the other hand. She dropped you off on a shelf in the wardrobe that was, of course, chest height to Deborah. Then without a care in the world she began to strip her loose blouse off of her torso, following suit quickly with the tight white tank top she had underneath. You struggled in a panic to reform the slight bit that her rough handling of you had caused, as you were forced to see her massive breasts clad in yet another ill-fitting bra, albeit this time tan instead of black. Thankfully as she reached around her back to unclasp the last remaining garment that separated her naked breasts from you, you managed to roll over and face the opposite direction. You breathed a sigh of relief. Again, while you had both seen and been crushed by her chest countless times in the past, that didn’t mean you found it any less weird to see her in this situation.
After nearly a minute of struggle you finally heard a soft “Got it!” come from Deborah’s mouth, and you assumed she must have at least gotten the black bra onto herself. You hesitantly turned around to see pretty much what you expected. Two massive, overflowing spheres of flesh struggled courageously to escape the black, lace prison that threatened to tear apart at any given moment. You facepalmed, taking a moment to compose yourself and figure out the best way to tell your mom to give that away to someone less… blessed. Unfortunately, Deborah took your moment of silence as indication that you hadn’t made a decision yet.
“So what do you think!? Here, I can get closer if you need a better look!” She said, excitedly. In her mind she thought she looked great. Practically everything she owned fit her tighter than it should, so she didn’t see much wrong with the bra! Thoughtlessly, she took a few steps forward, the massive bra cups barreling for your chest-height position on the shelf like two meteors.
“Wait stop, mom! I can see fine—” once again you didn’t get the chance to speak as she effortlessly flattened you atop the shelf in the wardrobe. By some stroke of luck, this time she at least realized her mistake, as she let out an annoyingly nonchalant “oops!” before backing off and leaving your plastered body atop the wooden shelf.
“Sorry about that, honey! I bet you didn’t think this would be a 3D fashion show, now did ya!?” Deborah said while giggling. Thankfully you weren’t stuck to her bra, as when she backed off you were able to start reforming rather quickly. “But what do you think, though? Do you need to take another look to decide?” Deborah took another step towards you and a bolt of fear ran through your body. Desperately you popped your flattened arm free from the shelf and gave her a (relatively) big thumbs up.
Thankfully she noticed that and stopped her approach before breaking into a huge smile. “I agree! I think it fits perfectly! Okay this one I’m going to keep for sure! Now onto the next!”
You popped the rest of your body free and brushed yourself off as you stood back up on your feet. Moaning silently to yourself, you knew this was going to be a long day.
What happens next?
1. Deborah tries on more articles of old clothing, and places you in equally as dangerous of locations in order to give you the “best view” of them (on the ground as she tries on old socks, on a nearby stool as she tries on panties/leggings, etc.).
2. You two stumble across some old articles of clothing that you have specific memories tied to. Leading to Deborah telling the stories and thinking that they are hilarious (possible flashbacks or not).
3. Deborah finds one of her old favorite things to wear, but sadly something about it is broken and she needs you to help her fix it.
4. You convince her to look through her pile of underwear first, to make sure your stuff that it was piled up on is alright.
5. Deborah gets a call from the car dealership and they have a weekend event where she has to work! She grabs you and brings you with her.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Get MORE!
Shop Memberships
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
