He is having way too much fun with this. Marisol gulped. I am too. She pushed herself up on trembling arms into a sitting position. Fatigue tugged at every inch of her, what little there was, but his voice roused the primal piece of her that longed for more. She examined her surroundings instead, hoping to still the pulsing want that Rafael inspired in her. They were in her bedroom. “How long am I going to be like this?” she said instead.
“Tsk!” Rafael plopped her on her bed with a flourish, stretched his arms out, his reach as long as the room was wide. “Practice and patience are the key components to any change in physique.”
“Unless you cheat and use magic. Then it’s just playtime.” She tried to glare at him, but she wasn’t sure how effective it was when he’d just proven he could turn her Inside Out with just his tongue.
“Now you get it!”
She glared some more.
Rafael snorted and turned around to rummage through her dresser. He spent a few seconds fumbling on the drawer handles with his thick fingers before he just lifted the whole thing and shook them loose.
“Hey!” She stomped her foot on the bed, the memory foam topper offering just enough give to throw her Off Balance. “That’s mine! And private!”
Rafael spared her a glance over his shoulder, bemused. “Do you have anything to hide after what we just shared?”
Marisol eeped at his blunt reminder. She folded her arms across her chest, and turned to the side, hiding her front from him best as she could. Being tiny wasn’t disorienting enough, Rafael’s enlarged form had a heavy presence on the environment and her. Her attention gravitated to him, space and reality bending around him as he sifted through panties and bras and favorite shirts that now dwarfed her a dozen times over. If he’d been his normal tall, lean self, then maybe Marisol could reconcile her situation and the pool of delicious sensations waiting on the shore of her consciousness.
Phantom touches along her legs elicited real shivers. Even if he was a beast, a monster, a giant, she could never forget what it was like to have his tongue lavishing her with intimate care she seldom received.
Rafael let out a soft hum of approval, holding up something she couldn’t see before facing her. “What comes after cardio?”
She blew a stray lock out of her eyes and refused to look at him.
“Well?”
The memory of this mouth still scalded hot against her skin. She bit her lip.
“Look at me.” His tone was a dulcet song.
She brought her hands to her neck, feeling how warm and flushed she was. Magic, she reasoned, Incubus magic. She wasn’t into this. She couldn’t be. She was just following along because she needed to shove it into his arrogant face that she could.
“Mari.” The soft, almost loving way he used her nickname eroded her resistance in an instant. “Precious, would you look at me?”
He could just make her. Pick her up and drop her in his palm like he’d done before, force her to meet his eyes. But he didn’t. His words weren’t supplicant, but they held her even so.
Okay, she admitted as she turned around and experienced seeing Rafael in his immense state once again. Maybe it isn’t incubus magic.
She had to crane her neck to grasp him, and even then she felt lacking, unable to take him in with her little eyes. Her bedroom ceiling was somewhere around twelve feet tall, vaulted steps receding from the walls in order to make the room feel more spacious. Rafael stole that space and made it his. His dark locks looked more like vines now, scalable and luscious with a vivid shine. His shoulders spanned most of the wall behind him, longer than the dresser he’d discarded at his feet. Arms like machine pistons waited, hiding something behind his back.
He was there, he was huge, and he was looking right at her.
“Good.” Goosebumps rose along her skin as she heard the word. “Was that so hard?”
It had been too easy. That was the problem. Marisol’s breath came in shallower the longer she stared at Rafael.
“Strength training,” he said, answering his earlier question. Without warning, he sat down on the dresser behind him, crashing through it with his ass and resting on the skeleton frame like a throne. “Your favorite.”
He brought his hands out from behind his back, revealing his surprise. It was a dildo. It was her dildo. Purple, frighteningly thick, nine inches long, and ribbed in her favorite way. Rafael waved it over her like a wand, a gluttonous indulgence in his every motion. Every bit of fight in her fled, and Marisol watched, mesmerized, as he placed the toy beside her. She stared at it, disbelieving it was even hers.
Had she ever been that big? How had she ever fit something that enormous inside her? It seemed impossible, standing so close to it now. It towered over her, leaning purple silicone with a tip that would tear her in two if she ever entertained the ludicrous thought of trying to insert it.
“I can’t,” she said. Nerves made her hesitant to even be near the thing. “I-I can’t do it.”
He leaned forward, smirking, his immense form swallowing her in his shadow. “You don’t even know what I’m going to suggest.”
“I can’t.” Tears pricked at her eyes for reasons unknown—was it fear? Shame at being unable to do his bidding?—and she angrily wiped them away. “It’s too big.” She worked at the words that felt wrong to say, but not untrue. “I’m too small!”
“Nonsense.” Rafael reached out with a single proffered finger and wiped the tear streak with more care than should have been possible for someone so big. Had she shrunken some more? Or maybe he’d grown. It was getting hard to keep track. “You’re perfect.”
Marisol hated how the flow of warmth and pleasure inside her quivered at those words. She hated it.
(She loved it.)
“It’s not you that’s the problem here,” he soothed, knuckle-brushing her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll sort it out.”
He raised his other hand over the dildo, palm flat, and face down. Within moments the purple monstrosity was dwindling, much like she had. It happened fast, faster than she could almost make sense of. Between one blink and the next the gargantuan faux-penis disappeared, and in its place a much smaller replica.
Marisol walked over to it and picked it up. She giggled. It wasn’t intimidating anymore; it was just cute, the size of her palm, more a novelty item, with how small it was. Hard to believe it had ever been as long as her forearm. The mere idea seemed more like a dream now.
“Call it a gift,” Rafael mused, watching her intently, chin in his hand. “I do like you. Even if you did ghost me.”
Instinctive, reflexive shame rose in her belly, and Marisol looked down. She’d done that, hadn’t she? Everything before this morning felt foggy and out of focus.
He huffed. His next words were clipped, purposeful. “Now, put it in.”
Marisol hesitated at first, but grabbed the toy. His instructions seemed harmless on first glance. The dildo was minuscule compared to before. She turned away from Rafael, somehow embarrassed despite everything that transpired already. Parting her legs, she maneuvered the tip of the toy to her pussy’s entrance. Her body trembled under his attention, and in preparation she dipped her fingers there, ready to provide more lubrication. She parted her lips with one finger, grazed her clit with another and—
She jerked, falling to her hands and knees. A guttural moan escaped her, a sound so lewd and perverse she covered her mouth, shaking with the implications. Goodfuckinggodthatfeelsgood, she thought, panting and squinting her eyes shut against the influx of pleasurable noise on her senses.
It wasn’t the dildo. It wasn’t even inside her. She was clutching its base in one trembling hand, its tip just touching her folds, tapping against her thigh while her whole damn arm shook from the pleasure-quake. With her other hand Marisol gripped at the cable wire thick fibers of her cotton sheets, digging her face into the material to hide from Rafael’s waiting, watching face. That wasn’t even an orgasm. Marisol struggled to put the feeling into words, into thought.
It was the instant right before she came, when she stood on a precipice, staring out at something vast and deep and rushing right at her, when she relinquished control to her body’s hunger. That moment encapsulated in a single brush against her clit, which ached and yearned for more. Regular aftershocks started hitting her. Waves that felt like tsunamis had her buckling every few seconds.
“Having a little trouble?” Rafael’s amusement rang like silver bells.
Marisol swore, gritting her teeth to stop herself from rewarding him with another moan like that. It was his touch driving her wild, his words pushing her senses to their limits, and his magic saturating the air and everything he touched. It was all his fault.
“M’fine.” She was light-headed, but determined. “Just gimme’ a second.”
The giant incubus toying with her started tapping the bed, reverberations of impatience through the cloth. “I’m waiting.”
With hitched breath, Marisol tentatively reached down once more, mindful of the way she tingled even so long after his tongue left her. She twitched, fought off two more not-orgasms, and let out a strained breath as her fingers came away from her inner labia slick and lubricated.
With a grunt and a hiss, Marisol rose to her knees. She positioned the dildo so it wouldn’t send her into another sensation-overload and inched it in, the girth of it much more manageable at its relative size. Certain it would stay lodged, even with its diminished size, she rose, the pleasurable pressure comfortable and normal compared to everything else.
“How’s it feel?” Rafael asked. He loomed over her and she could see the faint pinched spots in his chest where she’d climbed him, a lifetime ago.
Marisol sighed and faced him. The action caused little thunder shocks of pleasure to radiate out from her pussy, but she didn’t show it. “S’fine.”
Rafael’s knowing grin was almost as unbearable as how much she wanted him to use that tongue of his again. He leaned closer, inspecting her, before tutting. “It’s not all the way in.” A pair of monolithic fingers pinched her sides, holding her in place, much like one would a figurine. “Don’t worry, I’ll spot you. Just relax.”
“Easy—” Gasp. Shudder. Fullness drumbeating bliss throughout her. “—for you to say.”
Another finger caressed her backside, and Marisol writhed having some understanding of what he was going to do. She yelped, and kicked, but he was too big—no she was too small, so small compared to him. Without further ado, he parted her legs with the side of his enormous finger, adding pressure to the toy and her mound. She clenched, the toy somehow filling her more than before, touching on that core thirst that never quenched. Rafael’s finger rested against the base of the dildo, pausing as if to let her brace herself, and with the most minor nudge possible, the dildo went deep inside, and Marisol groaned, helpless in his hand.
“You’re doing fantastic.” He let her down to rest on her front on the bed. “There’s a good little one. See, I knew you could do it.”
Marisol writhed, stuck in pleasure hell. She tried to relax, thinking of peaceful things, but her cavewoman brain kept yanking her back to the oh fuck feeling permeating every aspect of her being. The dildo she’d thought harmless stuck out of her, filling her so much more than ever before. The width of the toy stretched her insides when she inhaled and tightened her core. The special siding sent jolts of mind-numbing goodness with every breath.
Had he grown the dildo with it inside her, she wondered. It didn’t seem possible she could fit something this big in her and yet he’d done it with just a dab of his finger, a flex of minuscule power that was everything to her.
“How does it feel?” His words thrummed inside her like a drum beat, and she somehow knew he wasn’t expecting an answer. “Nice?”
Nice didn’t cover even the first paragraph of the volumes of her pleasure. Nice was a simple term, reserved her past self who thought the best sex could get was a halfhearted oral session from a one-night stand. Fuck the word Nice.
“You ready for the last part of the lesson?”
Marisol’s eyes shot open. This wasn’t it?!
Rafael chuckled. “Don’t look so surprised. What did I say came after cardio? Strength training. This was just prep.”
“Fffff.” She tried to swear, but her mouth didn’t make the right noises and her body rebelled, quelling her rising ire in favor of toe-curling throbs from her cunt, where the ribbed edges of the dildo tapped at her G-spot. Her breath came in short, wispy gasps, and she laid prone, helpless. A gathering mass of sensation was forming inside her, not close, but not far either.
Taking that as assent, Rafael scooped her into his palm and crawled out into the living room, hunkering down to jam his way through her doorway. It caught on his upper back just as he surged out, and a drunken giggle was all she could manage as she watched her PT carry her to her fate. Rafael was unmarked, only sporting a divine glow, and even the hanging corner of the doorframe around his neck didn’t disturb him.
He was bigger than before. Marisol wasn’t one for math—even without the lurid violet haze of arousal—but someone who busted a six and a half foot tall doorway with just his shoulders couldn’t stand up in her apartment without ruining her insurance. Rafael crawled through her home on all fours, brushing aside a bookcase with a swipe of his hands and kicking her couch into the corner with his heel.
She raised her jelly arms up as if she could somehow wrap her arms around even the idea of a giant, sexy Rafael in her living room.
The basso rumble chuckle he let out was impressive and louder than a jet engine to her ears. “Yes, Mari. I’m big,” he said. “And you’re small. So small. Tiny. And all for me, isn’t that right?”
Panic registered as a blip of emotion on her radar before it ebbed out to the ocean. She sounded her answer out with her lips before saying, “Yesh.”
What she didn’t say was how she was having trouble conjuring memories of when she didn’t use to be small. She knew they existed, she knew she’d once been normal-sized, but now she struggled to even put into words what normal was. Rafael had a habit of distorting the world around him, whether it was physical as with his growth and her shrinking, or immaterial. Would she even be the same Marisol when he left?
The questions weighed deep on her consciousness. The appeal of surrendering to her shrunken state was growing by the second. She was tiny. She was Mari. She was precious.
She repeated those three sentences, over and over as Rafael wrecked her home. They’d always exercised in the living room for her sessions, after she had the forethought to clear space for them. It wasn’t even a rampage either. Rafael crawled backwards and forwards on his arms and knees, clearing space for some unknown reason, and he did it with such efficiency and practice Marisol had to wonder how many times he’d done this before.
The arm holding her bumped against something—a wall, a chair, she didn’t catch it—and another storm of overwhelming sensations invaded her very being, spreading out from her center. The dildo was no longer hers and maybe had never been. It belonged to Rafael, yet another teaching tool to toy with her. She could feel his touch inside her somehow, his magic filling her even while his body played with her.
“You have no idea how perfect you look. A little treasure, all for me.” He hunched forward on his knees, his shorts somehow holding on after all this time, well past the point of reason. With unimaginable care he cupped his hands together and guided her onto the floor. She laid flat on her back, gazing up at his immense overhanging body spanning wall to wall. “Now we can begin.”
What maddening demand would he make of her this time? Despite everything, some morbid, tamed piece of her was curious to see.
Marisol arched her back as the floor vibrated around her while Rafael got into a push-up position. Everything was a dull ache, with herself used and fucked in more ways than she thought possible for someone as small as she was.
“It’s simple,” Rafael said, unheeding of her inner thoughts. He straightened his body, drops of sweat snapping off as he tensed. “You just have to get away. Lift me up and get away.”
Marisol frowned, his words running into some logical disconnect in her soul. Get away? That’s what she’d been trying to do this whole time. Except she hadn’t. She’d fallen in line. Sassed him a few times, sure, but she’d followed instructions, as if this were any normal lesson.
But what was that nonsense about lifting him?
“That’s all you have to do.” His face was somewhere far away too, out of sight. “Just get away before I finish.” He balanced himself on one hand and brought the other down to his elastic shorts. A blue flash spread over the material and before Marisol’s tired, overwhelmed mind could react the largest cock she’d ever seen crashed into her, free from its confines. It hit her with a wet, fleshy, thud, smothering her face against his frenulum.
Her movements re-lit the bonfire stoking inside, and that full, punch-drunk, goodness flooded her senses once more. She could only blink and gasp as the throbs and pulses of her body and his cock encompassed all of her being. The dildo stretched her out from within, and his cock pressed her in from all directions, trapping her between them.
“Come on,” he urged her, his voice muffled through the cock covering her.
After a few seconds he rose, lifting the weight from her. Marisol coughed as some thick and salty liquid coated her face. She was too tired to move, too small to offer even token resistance. She could only marvel at the twitching leviathan rising in the air above her.
“One.” Rafael counted, finishing his push-up.
And then he dipped again—slow, lumbering, absolute. Marisol froze, unable to do anything but lay helpless as his penis flopped onto her tiny body once more. It pressed into her, hot and throbbing as one particularly thick vein pulsed against her gut. She inhaled, bracing herself against the satisfying pressure of being held down by his dick. Another sliver of precum touched her lips, and she moaned, amorously licking it, ashamed and turned on at the same time.
Marisol’s heart thundered in her chest, muted compared to Rafael’s pulsating dick.
The weight lifted once more, and this time she missed it.
“Two.”
This time he didn’t wait or pause for breath. Rafael dipped, and once more his cock smothered her so much she couldn’t even squeeze an arm out from underneath him.
“Come on,” he whispered down to her. “You’re so close. Three.”
The pressure lessened as he rose. Sweat glistened off his broad, muscular chest, in the morning light pouring in from her windows. He was ethereal, a dream turned real. She couldn’t not gaze in awe as he pushed off the floor with such ease. Did she start at his chest and try not to sink into the memory of vaulting herself over his pecs? Did she drool at his abs, sculpted perfection and powerful enough to have tossed her earlier with a simple crunch?
Rafael groaned, and a thick slip of cum dribbled out of his slit. It slithered down his shaft, before gathering in a single spot and—
Drip.
—right onto her.
Fuck me. Marisol shook as his drop of cum coated her, her eyes rolling up into her head as her legs shook uncontrollably. Fuuuuuck.
There were no coherent thoughts anymore: her self-control was washing away, as more and more dripped and covered her. She tried to speak but somewhere between her brain and her mouth the words crumbled and all that escaped was a high-pitched whine. Her body was on fire in the best way possible.
And then Rafael’s cock landed on her once more, and her thoughts turned to mush. Her insides twinged with delight as she clenched and unclenched. No worries, just dick. Huge, incubus dick.
When he rose, it was too soon. When he spoke, it was heaven. “Four…”
And on and on it went. Rafael’s form was perfect and every time he lowered himself. Marisol was in paradise. Subsumed by his scent, his strength, his size, she could only lie there and take it. Everything tingled, her body punch-drunk with pleasure and unwilling to do much but savor it all. The heat mounted inside her once more, and where before she balked at its approach, now she welcomed it. She kissed Rafael’s cock whenever it touched her and longed for it whenever it didn’t.
“Mari,” he groaned, breaking the count after dozens of reps. “You need to try. F-fifty eight…”
Cum-covered dick fell atop her one more time. He added an extra thrust this time, rubbing her along the floor on the underside of his shaft, knocking out what little breath she had left.
Mustering every ounce of her remaining strength, Mari thrust her arms up into him. The pulsating heat of his member, skin slippery with fresh precum, resisted her push, not even letting her extend her arms.
The bestial, hoarse moan that Rafael let out was subsonic and coaxing. “More.”
He rose and dipped, one fluid action that shook the floor as his dick made contact, forming a vacuum seal of space that eclipsed and pinned her.
“More.” And then he did it again. “More.” Again, just as earth-shattering as the last. “More.”
She felt the building orgasm in him with every thrust, every edging step he took to completion, and she welcomed it with open arms. Pushing against him when she could, breathless, but undaunted by his request. She wanted to be good. She wanted to earn that title of hers.
…precious…
The hulking giant in her home thrust against the surface once more, and Marisol felt the cresting wave of warmth in her churn and morph into something unstoppable. Before she knew, it she was peaking, flying, leaping over the horizon, too much too much too much to keep it all inside. Wet, watery gasps; muscles clenching; the last ruins of resistance fading. Marisol’s third orgasm of the day crashed into her like a meteor, purging all nonessentials from her system. Self-control, defiance, shame. All that remained was the chocolatey pleasure, an endless ocean’s worth.
Rafael’s breathing rose to a fever pitch, and something in his rhythm changed. He sucked in a hot air balloon’s worth of oxygen and, in one throaty gasp, growled out, “Mine.”
His release was tremendous to behold. Rafael arched his back, pushing up into the ceiling, his body so huge as to fill the space of her home even curled in on himself. His cock jutted out along the floor, pinning her underneath, and exploded all over the floor. Thick ropes of cum hit the far wall, splattering against hanging photo frames and knocking a souvenir from abroad off a shelf. Marisol only just glimpsed this, trapped under his throbbing dick, only able to enjoy the ride.
Desperate, heavy huffs filled the space between them for some indeterminable amount of time afterwards. Marisol let it all pass her by like a river, with her on its banks.
“Good.” Rafael’s voice strained. “Perfect. Fucking amazing.”
Marisol closed her ears and wiggled beneath him, sending arcing tingles of goodness throughout her body. Her pussy ached, sore and used and still so full, but she was…happy.
Rafael jerked, and righted himself before he burst out of the room, laughing. “Careful there, or I’ll take you home with me. Steal you away all for myself. Forever.”
Forever? What was forever? Marisol rubbed her face against his now-flaccid dick, failing to find the words to put meaning to what was coursing through her.
He shuddered when she did that. There was a pregnant pause. “Hey, did you hear me?”
She murmured something against his flesh. The first words she’d spoken in, well, forever, but too quiet to reach him.
“Mari?” Her body was goo, useless and unresponsive to most anything, but the effect was instantaneous. Mari whimpered and hugged what she could touch of him.
She couldn’t place what happened next. Thick clouds of magic conjured from nowhere, bending space and time like a pretzel knot. When the smoke cleared she wasn’t on the semen-covered floor anymore, but in his hands. Rafael was no longer so large he could break supporting beams, but her apartment still laid trashed. She could make out at least a dozen holes in the walls and ceiling, little bits of plaster drifting down in pieces almost as large as her.
Rafael inspected her. His sleeveless shirt was back, obscuring his chest in a way that felt insulting to Mari.
“Can you hear me?” he murmured.
She nodded, giggling. He’d removed the dildo inside her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still overflowing with pleasant sparks and bubbles. She concentrated on the syllables in her mind, formed the shapes with her mouth, lips wobbling, and tried again. All that came out was a reedy little exhale.
“I can grow you back now.” His voice was a whisper, nearly inaudible, but if anything she did not want that anymore. She couldn’t remember wanting that.
He turned his ear to her, leaning down to hear her.
Mari sniffled, banished all doubts plaguing her and tried one more time. She gathered the word in her gut and pushed it out with all her strength. “Yours.”
Rafael blinked, face going through a myriad of expressions, before settling on something like caring. Protective, yes, that’s what it was. “Of course.” A massive finger caressed her, gentle, flitting over her front like a plush down blanket. “Mine. My precious little Mari. So you…want to stay little?”
She nodded, covering her face. It felt like such a selfish request after everything, but she wasn’t ready to be big again. She wasn’t ready to return to that self, filled with indecision and awkwardness. Maybe later she would, but not right now.
(Maybe never.)
“I’ll have to take you with me. To keep you safe.”
That sounded wonderful.
But there was still one last thing buoying her awake. It was with no small effort and no tiny amount of pride that she uttered one final word. “Date?”
“I’m a incubus of my word.” Rafael chuckled. “Congratulations on getting through your first workout of the new year, Mari.”
“Mmmm…”
He continued like that, feather-light pets gracing every course of her miniature body, turning her over and over, touching as much of her as she could handle, careful not to overstimulate. He lulled her with his words and his praise and the comfort and safety of his presence, until she could no longer fight the growing drowsiness, and drifted off to sleep.
The End
Part 3/3
Apologies for breaking it up into three posts. Too wordy for my own good.
