Chapter 1 Page 19 - The Fragrance of the Feast The One Inch Son chapter 19 by The Reaper

Mati was expelled from Werka stomach, he is covered in gastric juices. "I'm alive! And I'm finally outside! Werka! My sweet little sister! Mati loves you so much!" Mati said.

Werka looks at Mati and hugs him very gently. "My sweet tiny brother Mati!" Werka says with joy. "With your help, I won't get an 'F'! I will get an 'A' for sure!" Werka squeals.

Paula looks at Mati and Werka. "Alright, alright. Enough of this science. Mom is calling us for dinner." Paula.

"Oh! Dinner! What it is today, Paula? Did mom said what we will eat today?" Werka asked Paula.

Paula gave a playful shrug, her blue eyes twinkling as she looked down at the drenched, one-inch man. "Mom didn't specify, but you know Alice. It's probably something hearty with a lot of gravy."

Mati shivered, the remnants of Werka's stomach acid tingling against his skin. He felt small, sticky, and utterly exhausted, yet the mention of food stirred a sudden, sharp hunger in his gut.

"Gravy sounds amazing," Mati admitted, his voice rasping. He looked up at his sisters, feeling the vast distance between his tiny frame and their towering presence.

Werka beamed, her pink dress swirling as she shifted her weight. "We have to get you cleaned up first, Mati. You smell like a chemistry experiment gone wrong!"

Paula laughed, a rich sound that vibrated through the room. "She's right. Let's get you into the bath before Mom wonders why the house smells like a digestive tract."

Paula reached down and scooped him up, her palm warm and firm. She carried him toward the master bathroom, the journey feeling like a trek across a vast landscape of polished hardwood.

Once inside, Paula set him gently on the porcelain edge of the sink. The white surface was cold and sterile compared to the humid, pulsing dark of Werka's interior.

"Wait here," Paula commanded, her voice softening. She turned on the tap, and to Mati, the sound of rushing water was like a crashing waterfall echoing through a canyon.

Werka leaned over, her blue eyes wide with curiosity as she watched the water swirl. "Do you think he needs soap, or is the acid already acting as an exfoliant?"

Mati rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but smile. "I'm right here, you know. I can hear everything."

Paula ignored the comment, reaching for a plush washcloth. She dipped it in the warm water and began to scrub Mati's small body, her touch surprisingly tender for someone so much larger.

"You're so soft, Mati," Paula murmured, her gaze drifting to his rounded belly. "No muscle at all. Just a little, squishy ball of a brother."

Mati blushed, his chest heaving as the warm cloth massaged his skin. The sensation of Paula's attention was overwhelming, a different kind of pressure than the one he'd felt inside Werka.

Werka watched them, her breath hitching. "He does look delicious when he's clean. Like a little piece of candy."

Paula's eyes darkened with a sudden, shared mischief. She stopped scrubbing and looked at Werka, a silent agreement passing between the two sisters.

"You know," Paula whispered, her voice dropping to a sultry register, "dinner is still twenty minutes away. Maybe we can give Mati a different kind of appetite."

Mati felt a shiver of anticipation. "What are you talking about?"

Paula didn't answer with words. Instead, she slid her hand beneath her white crop top, lifting the fabric to reveal the pale, creamy curve of her breast.

Werka followed suit, her pink dress sliding down her shoulders to expose her own smaller, budding chest. They stood over him, two goddesses of flesh and scent.

"We decided you've been a very good boy today, Mati," Werka breathed, leaning down so her lips were inches from his face. "And a good boy deserves a reward."

Paula reached down and lifted Mati, not by the waist this time, but by the head, letting his small, soft body dangle over the expanse of her chest.

He felt the warmth of her skin radiating outward, the scent of vanilla and warm skin enveloping him. He was suspended in the air, his small heart hammering against his ribs.

"Do you want to see what's for dessert, Mati?" Paula asked, her voice a low thrum that vibrated through his entire being.

Before he could answer, Paula shifted her grip and pressed him firmly against the peak of her breast, his face buried in the soft, yielding valley of her cleavage.

The air vanished, replaced by the suffocating, sweet scent of her skin and the crushing weight of her bosom. Mati gasped, his mouth pressing against the damp heat of her areola as he was squeezed tighter. Above him, Werka’s breath hitched, her small breasts brushing against Paula’s side as she leaned in to watch her brother disappear into the pale flesh. "He looks so helpless," Werka whispered, her voice a predatory purr. She reached out, her slender fingers gripping Mati’s rounded belly and kneading the soft fat of his stomach while Paula began to rock him, the friction of her skin rubbing against his face and chest. Mati let out a muffled moan of submission, his small body vibrating with the force of their laughter and the overwhelming sensory assault of their nakedness. Then, with a sudden, synchronized movement, the sisters shifted their grip; Paula lifted him high while Werka opened her mouth, her tongue swirling in anticipation of reclaiming her favorite little toy for a much more intimate kind of digestion.