Sheila comes to pick him up.
My name is Phil Tiny
chapter 16
by
copier
· original author:
swp1
“Where is he?” Sheila said as she opened the door.
“Don’t worry. I kept him safe and sound,” Rita answered. “It’s like you don’t trust me!”
“I’m sorry. I just want to see him. I guess I got a little carried away.”
As she said this, Rita spit Phil out into her palm and handed her to Sheila. Sheila cringed as his wet and soggy body was presented to her.
“Eww, at least dry him off a little! Do you think I want to cover my hands with your spit?” she exclaimed.
Do you think I want to be soaked in your spit either, Phil thought to himself, but he didn’t dare say it out loud.
“I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”
Rita grabbed Phil with her other hand and began to wipe him against her shirt. He could not see as his face and the rest of his body was pressed and rubbed against her shirt and stomach. With disheveled hair, slightly torn shirt, rug burns, and still mostly damp clothing, he was handed over to Sheila. He thought his ordeal was over, but she still cautious about his cleanliness grabbed his head between her thumb and index finger and brought him up to her face where he could see an excited smile. After a few seconds suddenly he dropped what felt to him like several hundred feet in about a half second as Sheila lowered her hand to her side. The g-forces were barely bearable.
“Thanks Rita.”
“No problem. Thank you for letting me take him. He’s an amazing find.”
“Yeah I know. At some point I’ll tell you about the hurtles the principal had to face to get him to even come to my school: boy in all girls-school, anxious mother. Anyways, I gotta run, but I’ll explain next time I see you.”
With that they hugged, with Phil being smashed against Rita’s back as Sheila gave her a few pats, and then she left. Sheila could not keep her hand still as she walked. She’d move them up and down with her steps, turning the ride into a little roller coaster for Phil. He was moving too fast to see where she was going. As much as he hated being carried in breasts or in mouths, they are actually more stable than her hands.
Eventually she stopped, and they were in the bathroom right in front of the sink. Once his crazy ride stopped, he got the worst spout of dizziness ever. Just when this was happening, Sheila suddenly raised him into the sink.
“Now let’s really clean you off from Rita’s mouth,” she said in a pleasant voice as if you were her little child. “I know her enough to know that all sorts of strange things go in there.”
Water started falling on top of Phil’s head as the sink was turned on. Sheila continued to hold his head with her one hand as she got soap with the other. Phil was too dizzy and dazed to know what was going on. When the torrent of water was falling on his head, he was too out of it to know to hold his breath, so he wound up inhaling a bunch of it. He was gasping for air, but she held his head too firmly to let him cough properly. He tried to free himself with his hands and kicked his legs violently. His head, however, remained solidly squeezed between her thumb and index finger.
“Now don’t struggle. This will only take a few seconds. It’s for your own benefit anyways. We don’t want you dirty do we?”
Her other hand, which was now filled with soap, grabbed Phil’s legs rubbing them. Sheila did not know how to treat Phil’s small body with care and unknowingly rubbed way too hard. Phil couldn’t scream however though because he was gasping for breath. After his legs were cleaned, she grabbed them with her other hand, flipping Phil upside down. She then proceeded to clean his arms and his chest. When she got to his head, she pressed her soapy thumb against his face, both crushing him and forcing soap into his eyes, mouth, and nose. She then began to rinse him again under the water. Choking and with soap in almost all his orifices, he was now again held under water. Eventually that stopped, and she pressed a paper towel against his whole body to dry it. The pressure was just about as much as he could take when finally she realized and set him on the counter. Still wrapped in the paper towel, he lay there coughing, gasping for air, and in pain all over, both from her squeezing, rubbing, and the soap.
He got about twenty seconds of peace as she washed her hands. This was enough to cough up most of the water he had swallowed.
“There there, now you are clean. Trust me you’ll feel much better,” she said in response to his panting. “And now for where you really belong.”
With that she grabbed him and dropped him into her cleavage. She wiggled her breasts until he fell into about the middle and then squeezed them slightly to make sure he would be secure. Phil was still desperately trying to breathe. His body felt weak, and he blacked out.
“Don’t worry. I kept him safe and sound,” Rita answered. “It’s like you don’t trust me!”
“I’m sorry. I just want to see him. I guess I got a little carried away.”
As she said this, Rita spit Phil out into her palm and handed her to Sheila. Sheila cringed as his wet and soggy body was presented to her.
“Eww, at least dry him off a little! Do you think I want to cover my hands with your spit?” she exclaimed.
Do you think I want to be soaked in your spit either, Phil thought to himself, but he didn’t dare say it out loud.
“I’m sorry. I forgot about that.”
Rita grabbed Phil with her other hand and began to wipe him against her shirt. He could not see as his face and the rest of his body was pressed and rubbed against her shirt and stomach. With disheveled hair, slightly torn shirt, rug burns, and still mostly damp clothing, he was handed over to Sheila. He thought his ordeal was over, but she still cautious about his cleanliness grabbed his head between her thumb and index finger and brought him up to her face where he could see an excited smile. After a few seconds suddenly he dropped what felt to him like several hundred feet in about a half second as Sheila lowered her hand to her side. The g-forces were barely bearable.
“Thanks Rita.”
“No problem. Thank you for letting me take him. He’s an amazing find.”
“Yeah I know. At some point I’ll tell you about the hurtles the principal had to face to get him to even come to my school: boy in all girls-school, anxious mother. Anyways, I gotta run, but I’ll explain next time I see you.”
With that they hugged, with Phil being smashed against Rita’s back as Sheila gave her a few pats, and then she left. Sheila could not keep her hand still as she walked. She’d move them up and down with her steps, turning the ride into a little roller coaster for Phil. He was moving too fast to see where she was going. As much as he hated being carried in breasts or in mouths, they are actually more stable than her hands.
Eventually she stopped, and they were in the bathroom right in front of the sink. Once his crazy ride stopped, he got the worst spout of dizziness ever. Just when this was happening, Sheila suddenly raised him into the sink.
“Now let’s really clean you off from Rita’s mouth,” she said in a pleasant voice as if you were her little child. “I know her enough to know that all sorts of strange things go in there.”
Water started falling on top of Phil’s head as the sink was turned on. Sheila continued to hold his head with her one hand as she got soap with the other. Phil was too dizzy and dazed to know what was going on. When the torrent of water was falling on his head, he was too out of it to know to hold his breath, so he wound up inhaling a bunch of it. He was gasping for air, but she held his head too firmly to let him cough properly. He tried to free himself with his hands and kicked his legs violently. His head, however, remained solidly squeezed between her thumb and index finger.
“Now don’t struggle. This will only take a few seconds. It’s for your own benefit anyways. We don’t want you dirty do we?”
Her other hand, which was now filled with soap, grabbed Phil’s legs rubbing them. Sheila did not know how to treat Phil’s small body with care and unknowingly rubbed way too hard. Phil couldn’t scream however though because he was gasping for breath. After his legs were cleaned, she grabbed them with her other hand, flipping Phil upside down. She then proceeded to clean his arms and his chest. When she got to his head, she pressed her soapy thumb against his face, both crushing him and forcing soap into his eyes, mouth, and nose. She then began to rinse him again under the water. Choking and with soap in almost all his orifices, he was now again held under water. Eventually that stopped, and she pressed a paper towel against his whole body to dry it. The pressure was just about as much as he could take when finally she realized and set him on the counter. Still wrapped in the paper towel, he lay there coughing, gasping for air, and in pain all over, both from her squeezing, rubbing, and the soap.
He got about twenty seconds of peace as she washed her hands. This was enough to cough up most of the water he had swallowed.
“There there, now you are clean. Trust me you’ll feel much better,” she said in response to his panting. “And now for where you really belong.”
With that she grabbed him and dropped him into her cleavage. She wiggled her breasts until he fell into about the middle and then squeezed them slightly to make sure he would be secure. Phil was still desperately trying to breathe. His body felt weak, and he blacked out.
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March 24, 2025
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