A Grand Massage
The Women Are Shrinking!
chapter 8
by
copier
· original author:
inverseprime
Angela flops forward onto the bed with a sigh, stretching out on her stomach and resting her chin on her folded arms. Her long legs kick lazily behind her as she lets out a pleased murmur. "Okay, now this is what I needed."
Christian, grinning from ear to ear, straddles one knee beside her and places his hands on her back, beginning a slow massage through the soft fabric of her hoodie. "Told you, I've got magic hands," he says, his tone low and flirtatious.
To the unaware couple, it's a relaxing, flirtatious moment... But for the three tiny women still trapped around them, the situation has become utterly desperate.
Lauren thought she had a reprieve from Angela's ass as she finally stood up, but her disorientation delayed her reaction as the behemoth shadow once again descended upon her. Now Lauren finds herself under an even worse position — the girl's entire upper torso and stomach pressing down on the mattress, pinning Lauren like a weight under a collapsing building. Her screams are muffled by the bedsheet and Angela's hoodie pressing down with every movement.
She squirms, but the pressure only increases as Christian begins massaging Angela's lower back, causing her to shift her weight. "BLEH! This is hell," Lauren croaks, her face mashed into the blanket. "I am under my brother's girlfriend's stomach... and I can smell eggs..."
On the other side of the bed, Julia is finally ejected from Angela's sock as her legs kick upward, tumbling across the mattress like a pebble. She lands face-first near Angela's thigh, dazed and furious.
"I am going to KILL Christian," she hisses, staggering to her feet. She begins trying to scale the back of Angela's hoodie, but every time Christian kneads a spot, Angela shifts, and Julia is sent sliding back down again.
"Get your stupid giant hands off your girlfriend and LOOK OVER HERE!" she yells — of course, it's hopeless at her size. Her voice barely travels more than a few inches.
Carrie, having managed to scramble up Christian's waistband, is now standing on his lower back as he leans over Angela, both of them oblivious to her. She waves her arms frantically, red in the face, shouting with all the maternal fury she can muster. "Christian Nathaniel Hanson, I swear on everything I own, you STOP this nonsense and FIX this RIGHT NOW!"
Christian, still rubbing Angela's back in slow, affectionate circles, leans down and kisses the back of her neck. "You're so tense. Want me to keep going?"
Angela chuckles, burying her face in the pillow. "Mmhm. Don't stop."
The bed shifts again. Carrie loses her footing and tumbles backward, landing near Christian's elbow with a grunt. "I don't care how old you are, I'm grounding you!"
The three women — Lauren crushed, Julia furious, and Carrie flustered beyond belief — are all trapped in a bizarre, humiliating scenario, stuck in a hot, shifting jungle of limbs and fabric. Angela, sighing happily, sinks deeper into the bed. From their tiny perspectives, it's no longer just uncomfortable, it's terrifying.
Christian, grinning from ear to ear, straddles one knee beside her and places his hands on her back, beginning a slow massage through the soft fabric of her hoodie. "Told you, I've got magic hands," he says, his tone low and flirtatious.
To the unaware couple, it's a relaxing, flirtatious moment... But for the three tiny women still trapped around them, the situation has become utterly desperate.
Lauren thought she had a reprieve from Angela's ass as she finally stood up, but her disorientation delayed her reaction as the behemoth shadow once again descended upon her. Now Lauren finds herself under an even worse position — the girl's entire upper torso and stomach pressing down on the mattress, pinning Lauren like a weight under a collapsing building. Her screams are muffled by the bedsheet and Angela's hoodie pressing down with every movement.
She squirms, but the pressure only increases as Christian begins massaging Angela's lower back, causing her to shift her weight. "BLEH! This is hell," Lauren croaks, her face mashed into the blanket. "I am under my brother's girlfriend's stomach... and I can smell eggs..."
On the other side of the bed, Julia is finally ejected from Angela's sock as her legs kick upward, tumbling across the mattress like a pebble. She lands face-first near Angela's thigh, dazed and furious.
"I am going to KILL Christian," she hisses, staggering to her feet. She begins trying to scale the back of Angela's hoodie, but every time Christian kneads a spot, Angela shifts, and Julia is sent sliding back down again.
"Get your stupid giant hands off your girlfriend and LOOK OVER HERE!" she yells — of course, it's hopeless at her size. Her voice barely travels more than a few inches.
Carrie, having managed to scramble up Christian's waistband, is now standing on his lower back as he leans over Angela, both of them oblivious to her. She waves her arms frantically, red in the face, shouting with all the maternal fury she can muster. "Christian Nathaniel Hanson, I swear on everything I own, you STOP this nonsense and FIX this RIGHT NOW!"
Christian, still rubbing Angela's back in slow, affectionate circles, leans down and kisses the back of her neck. "You're so tense. Want me to keep going?"
Angela chuckles, burying her face in the pillow. "Mmhm. Don't stop."
The bed shifts again. Carrie loses her footing and tumbles backward, landing near Christian's elbow with a grunt. "I don't care how old you are, I'm grounding you!"
The three women — Lauren crushed, Julia furious, and Carrie flustered beyond belief — are all trapped in a bizarre, humiliating scenario, stuck in a hot, shifting jungle of limbs and fabric. Angela, sighing happily, sinks deeper into the bed. From their tiny perspectives, it's no longer just uncomfortable, it's terrifying.
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November 12
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