Chapter 1 Page 22 - The Feast of Giants The One Inch Son chapter 22 by The Reaper

Mati looked up at the towering architecture of the dinner table, the mahogany surface stretching toward the horizon like a polished plain. The scent of roasted chicken was an olfactory tidal wave, thick and salty, making his stomach rumble despite the creamy fullness he still carried from Paula's breast.

"You look like you're in a trance, Mati," Derek chuckled, his voice a low-frequency rumble that vibrated through the saucer and into Mati's soles. "Is the food calling to you, or are you still daydreaming about your sisters' mischief?"

Mati shifted his weight, his black pants rustling against the ceramic. "A bit of both, Dad. Though I think the chicken is winning the argument."

Alice beamed, leaning over the table. Her massive form blocked out the kitchen lights, casting a warm, maternal shadow over him. "I made a special portion just for you, sweetheart. A tiny piece of honey-glazed carrot and a sliver of chicken, carved just right."

She lowered a pair of silver tongs, depositing a piece of carrot that was larger than Mati's entire torso onto the saucer. The vegetable was glistening, sticky with a golden glaze that smelled of wildflowers and summer heat.

"There you go, my little prince," Alice whispered, her breath a gentle gale that nearly knocked him over. "Eat up. You need to keep your strength up if you're going to keep up with those two."

Paula leaned in, her wide blue eyes shimmering with a playful glint. "He doesn't need strength, Mom. He's already had his fill of the best kind of nourishment today, hasn't he, Mati?"

Mati felt a flush of heat creep up his neck. "Please, let's just eat in peace before Werka decides I'm a dessert garnish."

Werka giggled, the sound like a chime of bells. She reached out, her slender finger grazing Mati's shoulder with a touch that felt like a velvet pillar. "I wouldn't dream of it, brother. Although, you do look quite appetizing in that little black outfit."

The meal progressed with the thunderous sound of cutlery hitting porcelain. To Mati, every clink of a fork was a lightning strike, every sip of wine a crashing waterfall. He tore into the carrot, the sweetness overwhelming his senses, feeling the sheer scale of his existence compared to the giants who loved him.

"I was thinking," Paula said suddenly, her voice dropping an octave as she looked at Mati. "Since he's so well-fed and relaxed, maybe we could take him for a little walk later. Just the three of us."

Mati paused, a piece of chicken halfway to his mouth. "A walk? Where exactly? Because the last time we 'walked,' I ended up in a laundry basket for three hours."

Paula chuckled, a low sound that vibrated in her chest, visible just inches from Mati's face. "Nothing like that. I was thinking something more... intimate. A way to really relax."

Werka nodded enthusiastically, her pink dress billowing. "Oh yes! We could take him to the oversized beanbag in the lounge. We could just cuddle and let him be our little stress-relief toy."

The suggestion sent a shiver of anticipation through Mati. He knew his sisters' version of "cuddling" often involved him being pressed into soft, warm crevices where the air was thin and the scent of perfume was intoxicating.

"I'm not a toy," Mati muttered, though he didn't pull away when Paula's thumb began to stroke the nape of his neck.

"You're our favorite toy," Paula whispered, her eyes darkening with a sudden, explicit hunger. "And once Mom and Dad are asleep, we're going to play a very specific game with you."

Alice smiled, oblivious to the subterranean tension. "It's so lovely to see you all getting along. Derek, don't you think they've grown closer?"

Derek glanced at Paula's hand, noting the way her fingers were subtly guiding Mati toward the edge of the saucer. "Indubitably. Though I suspect Mati is the one doing all the heavy lifting."

As the dinner wound down, Paula's grip tightened slightly. She leaned down, her lips brushing against Mati's ear, her voice a sultry promise. "Get ready, little man. We're going to see exactly how much of that 'full' feeling we can turn into pleasure."

Mati felt his heart hammer against his ribs. He looked at Werka, who was licking her lips with a feline grace, then back to Paula. The domestic warmth of the kitchen was being eclipsed by a rising, electric heat.

"Wait," Mati gasped as Paula suddenly scooped him up, her palm a warm, fleshy catapult. "We re already going?"

Paula didn't answer with words, but instead surged forward, her stride long and predatory as she hurried him out of the kitchen and toward the sanctuary of the lounge. Werka trailed close behind, the rhythmic swish of her pink dress sounding like a countdown. The moment they crossed the threshold, Paula didn't just set him down; she dropped him onto the colossal, velvet expanse of the beanbag, which swallowed him in a plush, suffocating embrace. Before he could even scramble for purchase, the light was blocked out by the twin silhouettes of his sisters, their eyes wide and hungry as they hovered over him like goddesses of a very private Olympus.

"Now for the best part," Werka purred, her voice thick with a sudden, heavy lust. She reached down, her fingers nimble and insistent, stripping the black clothes from his small, soft frame with a series of quick, efficient tugs. Mati lay exposed, his rounded belly heaving with a mix of fear and frantic arousal. Paula didn't wait for him to adjust; she lowered herself, her massive, pale thighs framing him like marble pillars. She guided his head toward the glistening, swollen heat of her clitoris, the scent of her arousal a pungent, musky cloud that drowned out everything else. "Drink your fill again, Mati. But this time, we're using you to get off."

Mati let out a strangled moan as he was pressed hard against her soaking wetness, his face buried in the creamy folds of her vulva. He worked his tongue frantically, tasting the salt and honey of her climax, while Werka leaned over, her own hand guiding her dripping core toward his small, shivering thighs. As Paula's body began to shudder with the first violent waves of an orgasm, Werka leaned down, her lips grazing his ear. "Don't you dare stop, little brother. We're going to make you feel every single inch of us until you can't even remember your own name."