Fight for your love (and life)
One Foot Tall Fiancé
chapter 23
by
copier
· original author:
worstfailure
It was hard for Tara to keep a straight face as she carried Jake into her long abandoned home gym.
It wasn't much. Just two weight machines, a couple of weights, a treadmill, and a large blue gym mat in the center of the room for aerobics. She hadn't exercised in ages now. She'd stopped when she realized she could eat whatever she wanted and the weight only went to her breasts and ass. Unfortunately, over the past year, her waist had gained a few inches, and she'd started to wonder if she should start exercising again? But one look at herself in the mirror was all it took to convince her she was still hot as hell even with the additional padding. Her cleavage was practically spilling out of her pink sports bra and her black short-shorts could barely contain her booty. Her rich egghead of an ex-husband had been crazy to divorce her, even if he had walked in on her cheating on him with his best friend... a third time. Not that Tara was complaining, she was much better suited to the life of a swinging single, and his alimony payments meant she didn't need to work another day in her life.
However, now that Jake was going to be living with her, it might be a good idea to start using the space again.
"Since this may be your final challenge," Tara said, keeping her charade going, "it needs to be so tough that, if you win, I'll have no doubts whatsoever you're tough enough to survive the outside world. You ever watch professional wrestling, pipsqueak?"
"No," you squeaked.
"You're missing out. The hunks they have on display? Now those are some real men. If you can fight like one of them, then I'll be absolutely convinced you don't need your auntie to toughen you up."
"We're going to wrestle?" you yelped. "That's impossible! How do you expect me to win a fight against you?"
Your aunt shook her head and tut-tutted in disappointment. "See, it's that kind of attitude that makes me doubt your manhood. You could at least let me explain the rules before you start bitching." As she said this she dropped you in the mat's center, causing your legs to flatten into your torso. You immediately began pulling on your feet to free your legs in case Tara decided to launch herself at you without warning. She snickered at how ridiculous you looked and kept going. "Here's the deal, twerp. It's a thirty minute match. I'll set the timer on my phone. You don't need to pin me to win, all you have to do is escape the mat before the timer goes off. You'll start in the center and I'll start in this corner. Every time I pin you on a three-count, we go back to our starting points. If you manage to get even a finger off the mat and onto the floor before the time is up, I'll mail you back to Cassie immediately. If you fail though?" she whirled around and gave her juicy ass a smack that set it jiggling. She winked at you smugly. "Any questions?"
You were too stunned to think of any and your aunt was in no mood to wait for one.
"Good," she said, holding up her phone so that it showed 30 minutes on the screen. "Go."
With a final pop, both of your legs came free and you took off running. You tried to summon the strength to sprint but your half-squished legs wobbled underneath you and it took all your effort not to face-plant. The ground shook beneath your feet from your aunt's thunderous footsteps. She really wasn't messing around! You tried to go faster but she was practically on top of you already. Just as you were certain you were about to be squashed under one of her soles, you were shocked as she leapfrogged over you instead. You came to a panicked halt as she balanced her weight on the balls of her feet, her colossal ass poised in the air inches above your head. You turned back to run in the other direction--the exact opposite move you should've made, as now she fell backwards, dropping her ass on top of you. Your body squished and expanded, like a cartoon character beneath a boulder, which wasn't far off.
Tara smacked the mat as she counted down. "One! Two! Three! Good effort, squirt, but you'll have to try harder than that if you want to go back to Cassie. Let's take it from the top." After dropping you in the center of the mat, she went back to her corner, smirked and asked, "Ready?"
Of course you weren't ready! You were still a pancake! You couldn't even object because your body hadn't begun re-inflating yet.
"GO!" This time Tara walked rather than run. Despite your best efforts, by the time she got to you, you were still mostly a smear. She tapped her barefoot inches from you and sighed. "Come on, runt. I'm giving you a fighting chance here. Pull yourself together."
You were trying! Even giving it your all, it took three minutes for you to re-inflate, your aunt watching the entire time, unimpressed. You'd no sooner reformed to gasp for air when she raised her foot above you and stomped you even flatter than you'd been before. Though better-smelling than her ass, her foot wasn't exactly a bed of roses, and it hurt just as much. A pain only worsened when she ground her foot over you as she counted down, smearing you into the mat like a paste.
"It looks like I was right, Jake," Tara said. "You aren't tough enough to fight my pinkie toe let alone get married. I should just save us the trouble and call it here, but I'm also a woman of my word," she lied, "so I'll give you the full thirty minutes to prove me wrong."
The time passed with agonizing slowness, always following the same pattern. You remained flattened in the center of the mat, trying desperately to reform, as Tara waltzed to your location and squashed you flat, heckling you before getting up and going back to her corner. Sometimes she squashed you with her feet, sometimes with her bosom, once with a belly flop, but mostly with her ass. She even farted on you twice to "motivate you to do better." After fifteen minutes, she started taking advantage of the time you took to reform to check her emails and text. She even took a few photos of you before and after each squashing, though you didn't know why. She'd watch for movement out of the corner of her eye and once you inflated just enough, she came over to crush you again. Eventually she stopped doing even that, letting you reform enough so that you could begin to crawl to safety. Once you'd gotten a foot or two she'd put her phone away, casually strolled over to you and SPLAT!
Each time she waited so you were closer to the edge of the mat before she got you. You knew it wasn't mercy. She had said she wouldn't go easy on you after all. The pauses in between squashing was just a way to rub it in your face how inferior you were to her. So pathetic that she didn't even need to put all her effort into destroying you.
"Five minutes left, runt!" Tara said carelessly as she sent a text.
Though the majority of you was as thin as a piece of paper at this point, your arm was inflated enough to pull you forward. It was excruciating but inch by inch you managed to pull yourself closer. Your aunt started walking over but you were practically at the edge. You desperately threw out your arm. Almost there!
BOOM!
Tara took a seat and smiled as she felt the familiar sensation of Jake flatten beneath her. She took a few seconds to savor her victory, grinding him into the mat. "You may as well get used to the feeling now, twerp," she thought, "because this is going to be the rest of your life."
The runt really had no idea how hard it had been for Tara to hold back with him over the years. If he'd thought that was her at her worst, he was incredibly mistaken. During each of her visits, the "pranks" she pulled were just small releases to placate what she only wished she could do to him. Ever since the first time she'd felt the little dork go squish between her cheeks, Tara had felt like it was Jake's destiny to be in her ass. She'd told herself she was crazy, no matter how much she felt it to be true. The feeling had only become a certainty during a visit where she'd baked him into her ass as she was tanning herself. It had just felt so right, him being practically one with her ass. She had told him she'd keep him for maybe a month at most, but each day after the plane ride home she became more and more certain that she'd finally make her ultimate fantasy a reality. She'd been just about to tell Jake about his new living arrangements when his mother had called, balling her eyes out, asking if she'd seen her son. For all her faults, Tara did love her sister with all her heart and hated hearing her so sad. Before she knew it, she'd blurted out a story about how she'd "coincidentally" just found Jake in her luggage. She'd regretted it instantly. Though her sister was overjoyed to get him back, Tara was furious with herself for tossing away what she thought was her only chance at keeping Jake for herself... at least until a guardian angel by the name of Kimberly Smalls had delivered him to her on a silver platter. Any past reservations Tara had were erased the second she'd read the letter that had accompanied her nephew.
This couldn't possibly be a coincidence. It was fate! By the will of some unknowable cosmic force, Jake was destined to spend his life inside his aunt's ass. And Tara fully intended to see his destiny fulfilled.
The alarm went off, signaling the match was over, and Tara laughed triumphantly, "Sorry, squirt. Looks like you're not leaving anytime soon."
She looked over her shoulder, fully confident that not a single strand of her nephew was free from her ass, certain that victory was hers.
Was she right?
1) Yes: Tara wins. On to tomorrow's challenge.
2) No: A single finger is touching the floor outside the mat. You've won! But how will Tara react?
It wasn't much. Just two weight machines, a couple of weights, a treadmill, and a large blue gym mat in the center of the room for aerobics. She hadn't exercised in ages now. She'd stopped when she realized she could eat whatever she wanted and the weight only went to her breasts and ass. Unfortunately, over the past year, her waist had gained a few inches, and she'd started to wonder if she should start exercising again? But one look at herself in the mirror was all it took to convince her she was still hot as hell even with the additional padding. Her cleavage was practically spilling out of her pink sports bra and her black short-shorts could barely contain her booty. Her rich egghead of an ex-husband had been crazy to divorce her, even if he had walked in on her cheating on him with his best friend... a third time. Not that Tara was complaining, she was much better suited to the life of a swinging single, and his alimony payments meant she didn't need to work another day in her life.
However, now that Jake was going to be living with her, it might be a good idea to start using the space again.
"Since this may be your final challenge," Tara said, keeping her charade going, "it needs to be so tough that, if you win, I'll have no doubts whatsoever you're tough enough to survive the outside world. You ever watch professional wrestling, pipsqueak?"
"No," you squeaked.
"You're missing out. The hunks they have on display? Now those are some real men. If you can fight like one of them, then I'll be absolutely convinced you don't need your auntie to toughen you up."
"We're going to wrestle?" you yelped. "That's impossible! How do you expect me to win a fight against you?"
Your aunt shook her head and tut-tutted in disappointment. "See, it's that kind of attitude that makes me doubt your manhood. You could at least let me explain the rules before you start bitching." As she said this she dropped you in the mat's center, causing your legs to flatten into your torso. You immediately began pulling on your feet to free your legs in case Tara decided to launch herself at you without warning. She snickered at how ridiculous you looked and kept going. "Here's the deal, twerp. It's a thirty minute match. I'll set the timer on my phone. You don't need to pin me to win, all you have to do is escape the mat before the timer goes off. You'll start in the center and I'll start in this corner. Every time I pin you on a three-count, we go back to our starting points. If you manage to get even a finger off the mat and onto the floor before the time is up, I'll mail you back to Cassie immediately. If you fail though?" she whirled around and gave her juicy ass a smack that set it jiggling. She winked at you smugly. "Any questions?"
You were too stunned to think of any and your aunt was in no mood to wait for one.
"Good," she said, holding up her phone so that it showed 30 minutes on the screen. "Go."
With a final pop, both of your legs came free and you took off running. You tried to summon the strength to sprint but your half-squished legs wobbled underneath you and it took all your effort not to face-plant. The ground shook beneath your feet from your aunt's thunderous footsteps. She really wasn't messing around! You tried to go faster but she was practically on top of you already. Just as you were certain you were about to be squashed under one of her soles, you were shocked as she leapfrogged over you instead. You came to a panicked halt as she balanced her weight on the balls of her feet, her colossal ass poised in the air inches above your head. You turned back to run in the other direction--the exact opposite move you should've made, as now she fell backwards, dropping her ass on top of you. Your body squished and expanded, like a cartoon character beneath a boulder, which wasn't far off.
Tara smacked the mat as she counted down. "One! Two! Three! Good effort, squirt, but you'll have to try harder than that if you want to go back to Cassie. Let's take it from the top." After dropping you in the center of the mat, she went back to her corner, smirked and asked, "Ready?"
Of course you weren't ready! You were still a pancake! You couldn't even object because your body hadn't begun re-inflating yet.
"GO!" This time Tara walked rather than run. Despite your best efforts, by the time she got to you, you were still mostly a smear. She tapped her barefoot inches from you and sighed. "Come on, runt. I'm giving you a fighting chance here. Pull yourself together."
You were trying! Even giving it your all, it took three minutes for you to re-inflate, your aunt watching the entire time, unimpressed. You'd no sooner reformed to gasp for air when she raised her foot above you and stomped you even flatter than you'd been before. Though better-smelling than her ass, her foot wasn't exactly a bed of roses, and it hurt just as much. A pain only worsened when she ground her foot over you as she counted down, smearing you into the mat like a paste.
"It looks like I was right, Jake," Tara said. "You aren't tough enough to fight my pinkie toe let alone get married. I should just save us the trouble and call it here, but I'm also a woman of my word," she lied, "so I'll give you the full thirty minutes to prove me wrong."
The time passed with agonizing slowness, always following the same pattern. You remained flattened in the center of the mat, trying desperately to reform, as Tara waltzed to your location and squashed you flat, heckling you before getting up and going back to her corner. Sometimes she squashed you with her feet, sometimes with her bosom, once with a belly flop, but mostly with her ass. She even farted on you twice to "motivate you to do better." After fifteen minutes, she started taking advantage of the time you took to reform to check her emails and text. She even took a few photos of you before and after each squashing, though you didn't know why. She'd watch for movement out of the corner of her eye and once you inflated just enough, she came over to crush you again. Eventually she stopped doing even that, letting you reform enough so that you could begin to crawl to safety. Once you'd gotten a foot or two she'd put her phone away, casually strolled over to you and SPLAT!
Each time she waited so you were closer to the edge of the mat before she got you. You knew it wasn't mercy. She had said she wouldn't go easy on you after all. The pauses in between squashing was just a way to rub it in your face how inferior you were to her. So pathetic that she didn't even need to put all her effort into destroying you.
"Five minutes left, runt!" Tara said carelessly as she sent a text.
Though the majority of you was as thin as a piece of paper at this point, your arm was inflated enough to pull you forward. It was excruciating but inch by inch you managed to pull yourself closer. Your aunt started walking over but you were practically at the edge. You desperately threw out your arm. Almost there!
BOOM!
Tara took a seat and smiled as she felt the familiar sensation of Jake flatten beneath her. She took a few seconds to savor her victory, grinding him into the mat. "You may as well get used to the feeling now, twerp," she thought, "because this is going to be the rest of your life."
The runt really had no idea how hard it had been for Tara to hold back with him over the years. If he'd thought that was her at her worst, he was incredibly mistaken. During each of her visits, the "pranks" she pulled were just small releases to placate what she only wished she could do to him. Ever since the first time she'd felt the little dork go squish between her cheeks, Tara had felt like it was Jake's destiny to be in her ass. She'd told herself she was crazy, no matter how much she felt it to be true. The feeling had only become a certainty during a visit where she'd baked him into her ass as she was tanning herself. It had just felt so right, him being practically one with her ass. She had told him she'd keep him for maybe a month at most, but each day after the plane ride home she became more and more certain that she'd finally make her ultimate fantasy a reality. She'd been just about to tell Jake about his new living arrangements when his mother had called, balling her eyes out, asking if she'd seen her son. For all her faults, Tara did love her sister with all her heart and hated hearing her so sad. Before she knew it, she'd blurted out a story about how she'd "coincidentally" just found Jake in her luggage. She'd regretted it instantly. Though her sister was overjoyed to get him back, Tara was furious with herself for tossing away what she thought was her only chance at keeping Jake for herself... at least until a guardian angel by the name of Kimberly Smalls had delivered him to her on a silver platter. Any past reservations Tara had were erased the second she'd read the letter that had accompanied her nephew.
This couldn't possibly be a coincidence. It was fate! By the will of some unknowable cosmic force, Jake was destined to spend his life inside his aunt's ass. And Tara fully intended to see his destiny fulfilled.
The alarm went off, signaling the match was over, and Tara laughed triumphantly, "Sorry, squirt. Looks like you're not leaving anytime soon."
She looked over her shoulder, fully confident that not a single strand of her nephew was free from her ass, certain that victory was hers.
Was she right?
1) Yes: Tara wins. On to tomorrow's challenge.
2) No: A single finger is touching the floor outside the mat. You've won! But how will Tara react?
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March 28, 2025
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