tf virus ch. 9
Giantess/Transformation Short Stories
chapter 10
by
copier
· original author:
lifesaver
Charlotte’s hands hovered over you, her fingers brushing the edges of your fabric body. You could already feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the anticipation of being stretched and pulled tight against her curves. Here we go again, you thought, bracing yourself for the inevitable.
“Oliver,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement as she picked you up, “you’re going to love this. Or, well, you don’t have much of a choice, do you?” She chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if she was teasing or genuinely oblivious to your discomfort. Probably both.
She stepped into you, one foot at a time, and you felt yourself being pulled upward, your fabric stretching to accommodate her. Oh god, you thought as her hips came into view, her round, shapely ass looming closer and closer. You were snug against her, tighter than you’d ever been before. Her fingers adjusted you, tugging you higher and wedging you deeper into her crack. You felt your face press into her soft, warm skin, the sensation both suffocating and strangely intimate.
“Wow,” Charlotte said, her voice a mix of surprise and self-consciousness as she glanced over her shoulder in the mirror. “You’re, uh… really small compared to me now. I mean, look at you! You’re practically a g-string. My ass is… huge.” She frowned slightly, her cheeks flushing as she turned to get a better view. “Am I getting fat? Is that it? Is my butt too big now?”
Your words came out muffled, your face buried so deep in her crack that you could barely move. “No, Charlotte,” you managed to say, your voice strained but earnest. “You’re not fat. You’re… you’re perfect. Your butt is amazing. Perfectly proportioned.” You meant every word, even if the situation was absurd.
She tilted her head, still scrutinizing herself in the mirror. “I don’t know, Oliver. I feel like you’re just saying that because you’re my husband. Or, well, my… thong.” She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, one that betrayed her insecurity. “I mean, look at this! You’re practically lost in there.” She reached back, pulling you a little to the side so she could see your face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not, like, dying in there or anything, right?”
You took a deep breath, the faint scent of her skin filling your senses. “I’m fine, Charlotte,” you said, your voice softer now. “It’s tight, yeah, but I’m okay. Really. And for the record, your butt is incredible. Absolutely incredible. Anyone would be lucky to… well, to have a view like this.”
She giggled, her cheeks flushing even more. “Oliver! You’re such a dork. But… thanks. I guess.” She let go, allowing you to snap back into place against her skin. “Still, it’s kinda weird, you know? Feeling you there all day. Like, you’re always there, just… pressed up against me. It’s kinda… intimate, I guess. In a weird way.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. Intimate was one word for it. Humiliating, overwhelming, and strangely thrilling were others, but you kept those thoughts to yourself. Instead, you focused on the warmth of her skin, the way her movements sent little shivers through your fabric body. It was a strange kind of closeness, one you never could have imagined in your wildest dreams—or nightmares.
Charlotte walked over to the bed, smoothing out her skirt before sitting down. “So,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of curiosity, “what’s it like? Being… you know, stuck like this all day? Is it weird? Uncomfortable? Or is it kind of… I don’t know, nice? In a way?”
You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “It’s… different,” you said finally. “I mean, it’s not like I can move or anything. I’m just… there. Against you. All day. It’s… I don’t know. It’s like being a part of you, in a way. But also… not. It’s hard to explain.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess it would be.” She leaned back on her hands, her skirt riding up slightly. “I mean, I can feel you, obviously. But it’s not like I can hear you most of the time. Especially when we’re out and about. It’s kind of like… you’re just part of my outfit, you know? But then I remember it’s you, and it’s… weird. But also kinda nice, I guess.”
Nice. The word echoed in your mind. Was it nice? For her, maybe. For you, it was a strange mix of emotions—shame, embarrassment, but also a deep, undeniable connection to her. You were a part of her daily life in a way you never had been before, even if it was in the most absurd way possible.
Charlotte stood up, brushing off her skirt. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to get used to it, huh? You being my thong, and me… well, me being me.” She grinned, her confidence returning. “Ready to face the day, Oliver?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, your voice muffled again as she adjusted you one last time. She laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as your face was pressed deep into her crack. This is my life now, you thought. But as strange as it was, you couldn’t deny the underlying warmth of her skin, the closeness you now shared. It was humiliating, yes, but it was also… something else. Something you couldn’t quite put into words.
Charlotte grabbed her bag and headed for the door, her hips swaying as she walked. You felt every movement, every shift of her body as she moved. “Let’s go, Oliver,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ve got a busy day ahead. And don’t worry—I’ll try not to forget about you this time.”
You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you muttered, though you knew she probably couldn’t hear you. As the door closed behind you, you braced yourself for whatever the day might bring. One thing was certain: life as Charlotte’s thong was never going to be boring.
“Oliver,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement as she picked you up, “you’re going to love this. Or, well, you don’t have much of a choice, do you?” She chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if she was teasing or genuinely oblivious to your discomfort. Probably both.
She stepped into you, one foot at a time, and you felt yourself being pulled upward, your fabric stretching to accommodate her. Oh god, you thought as her hips came into view, her round, shapely ass looming closer and closer. You were snug against her, tighter than you’d ever been before. Her fingers adjusted you, tugging you higher and wedging you deeper into her crack. You felt your face press into her soft, warm skin, the sensation both suffocating and strangely intimate.
“Wow,” Charlotte said, her voice a mix of surprise and self-consciousness as she glanced over her shoulder in the mirror. “You’re, uh… really small compared to me now. I mean, look at you! You’re practically a g-string. My ass is… huge.” She frowned slightly, her cheeks flushing as she turned to get a better view. “Am I getting fat? Is that it? Is my butt too big now?”
Your words came out muffled, your face buried so deep in her crack that you could barely move. “No, Charlotte,” you managed to say, your voice strained but earnest. “You’re not fat. You’re… you’re perfect. Your butt is amazing. Perfectly proportioned.” You meant every word, even if the situation was absurd.
She tilted her head, still scrutinizing herself in the mirror. “I don’t know, Oliver. I feel like you’re just saying that because you’re my husband. Or, well, my… thong.” She laughed, but it was a nervous laugh, one that betrayed her insecurity. “I mean, look at this! You’re practically lost in there.” She reached back, pulling you a little to the side so she could see your face. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not, like, dying in there or anything, right?”
You took a deep breath, the faint scent of her skin filling your senses. “I’m fine, Charlotte,” you said, your voice softer now. “It’s tight, yeah, but I’m okay. Really. And for the record, your butt is incredible. Absolutely incredible. Anyone would be lucky to… well, to have a view like this.”
She giggled, her cheeks flushing even more. “Oliver! You’re such a dork. But… thanks. I guess.” She let go, allowing you to snap back into place against her skin. “Still, it’s kinda weird, you know? Feeling you there all day. Like, you’re always there, just… pressed up against me. It’s kinda… intimate, I guess. In a weird way.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. Intimate was one word for it. Humiliating, overwhelming, and strangely thrilling were others, but you kept those thoughts to yourself. Instead, you focused on the warmth of her skin, the way her movements sent little shivers through your fabric body. It was a strange kind of closeness, one you never could have imagined in your wildest dreams—or nightmares.
Charlotte walked over to the bed, smoothing out her skirt before sitting down. “So,” she said, her tone light but with a hint of curiosity, “what’s it like? Being… you know, stuck like this all day? Is it weird? Uncomfortable? Or is it kind of… I don’t know, nice? In a way?”
You hesitated, unsure how to answer. “It’s… different,” you said finally. “I mean, it’s not like I can move or anything. I’m just… there. Against you. All day. It’s… I don’t know. It’s like being a part of you, in a way. But also… not. It’s hard to explain.”
She nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess it would be.” She leaned back on her hands, her skirt riding up slightly. “I mean, I can feel you, obviously. But it’s not like I can hear you most of the time. Especially when we’re out and about. It’s kind of like… you’re just part of my outfit, you know? But then I remember it’s you, and it’s… weird. But also kinda nice, I guess.”
Nice. The word echoed in your mind. Was it nice? For her, maybe. For you, it was a strange mix of emotions—shame, embarrassment, but also a deep, undeniable connection to her. You were a part of her daily life in a way you never had been before, even if it was in the most absurd way possible.
Charlotte stood up, brushing off her skirt. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to get used to it, huh? You being my thong, and me… well, me being me.” She grinned, her confidence returning. “Ready to face the day, Oliver?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, your voice muffled again as she adjusted you one last time. She laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as your face was pressed deep into her crack. This is my life now, you thought. But as strange as it was, you couldn’t deny the underlying warmth of her skin, the closeness you now shared. It was humiliating, yes, but it was also… something else. Something you couldn’t quite put into words.
Charlotte grabbed her bag and headed for the door, her hips swaying as she walked. You felt every movement, every shift of her body as she moved. “Let’s go, Oliver,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ve got a busy day ahead. And don’t worry—I’ll try not to forget about you this time.”
You sighed, resigning yourself to your fate. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you muttered, though you knew she probably couldn’t hear you. As the door closed behind you, you braced yourself for whatever the day might bring. One thing was certain: life as Charlotte’s thong was never going to be boring.
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March 28, 2025
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