Excerpt from The Passion of Marty the Marytr: A Shrinking Fantasy

[farkas17]

Excerpt from “The Passion of Marty the Martyr,” by Aaron Farkas

“You said you adore my breasts,” she told him. “Show it.” And she guided his head between her boobs, surrounding him with tit-flesh.
“Ahh. . .mmmph,” he mouthed into the hollow of her deep chest. The crucifix dangled above him, glinting faintly from the overhead light.
“Repeat after me,” she intoned, holding him in place with her strong arms. “I, a pitiful worm, wish to serve Mother Mary.”
“I, a pitiful worm, wish to serve Mother Mary.”
“Good. Now place your hands on my breasts and say this: Ora pro meum, me diminua pro adorare ipse lactate.”
His hands full of Maria, he repeated the words. As he pronounced the last syllable, a tingling started in his palms and spread throughout his body. Looking heavenward, he saw that Maria’s breasts really did loom like celestial bodies, his hands now dwarfed by what they held onto: a side-patch of her left boob pressed against one hand, part of a giant nipple in the other. The crucifix above creaked like a playground swing above him, and when he looked more closely, he noticed with a terrible fear that the cross was now empty.
He didn’t have long to contemplate his fate, however. With a laugh that boomed through her chest, Maria pushed him from behind with one shovel-sized pinky. “In you go!” The cleft between her breasts opened just wide enough to receive his body before closing in all around him, half-smothering him with the soft heft of boobs as big as wrecking balls.
My God, I must be as small as a worm, he thought, remembering what Maria called him. He managed to push away one flesh wall just enough to clear his head, but the rest of him was stuck fast.
“Ha ha. . .I’ll bet I can pick you up without any hands!” crowed Maria, as she stood up slowly, the centered weight of each boob pinning him securely within her cleavage. When she started walking, her jiggle shook him this way and that, but he remained trapped between her monstrous mammaries. It was like the time his friends at the beach had buried him up to his neck in sand, only this was more like super-gelatin.
“Let’s see how you look.” Maria had entered the girls’ locker room, headed for the bathroom. The view from between her tits was mind-boggling: his head the only visible part of him, stuck between two orbs of flesh like two pink-white hillsides, below which lay a hundred-foot drop. When Maria posed in front of the bathroom mirror, Marty saw himself as a miniature ornament and squirmed in embarrassment—or tried to. Whenever Maria took a deep breath, her expanding lungs pressed her breast walls so tight that he couldn’t move at all. She merely laughed at his struggles. “So, are my tits big enough for you?”
“What have you done to me?” His voice came out so high-pitched and tiny that it was almost lost against Maria’s pneumatic front.
“Done? What you asked for, worm.” She smiled at him, her teeth like dinner plates and her mouth now big enough to swallow him whole. “You said you wanted to suffer for our sins the way Jesus did, right?”
“Well, I. . .” he began. Maria had freed his legs with a shove of her hand and begun absently rubbing his feet against one nipple. The nipple grew from a flat disk to the size of a fire hydrant. He found the experience as dizzyingly sexy as it was mortifying. “You have amazing breasts,” he murmured in spite of himself. He reached down to touch her nipple, which now looked like a three-foot-high lipstick. It grew even more under his hand.
“Don’t I?” replied Maria, clearly pleased. “And guess what? You’re gonna get to dangle between them for a long, long time.” Before he could even tremble, she reached out for him with a half-open fist that could fit five of him inside. As she squeezed him motionless, she fumbled in a jean pocket and brought out a paper clip. “This’ll have to do for right now. Welcome to your new perch.” And she placed him firmly on the crucifix, which had a little silver base for his feet. When he tried to struggle, she unwound the paper clip, as thick as an iron bar to him, and bound his shoulders and chest with it.

Like what you’ve read so far? Order it from Amazon at

https://www.amazon.com/Passion-Marty...rty+the+martyr

[Doll-Elf]

As interesting as it is, I only see a man shrinking. Perhaps best put to the Giantess Community.

[tjlemke]

Or other. Regardless it doesn't belong here

[qzar9999]

Moved to Everything Else. Please remember that male process goes here.