Roger’s eyelids cracked open to the golden morning light filtering through his window. At first he had no idea why he felt so happy. The feeling simply warmed his heart before his mind could catch up.
It was the first time in years he hadn’t woken up aching with unspoken desire there, an emptiness, instead it had been replaced by a low, syrupy warmth, like honey melting over hot toast.
Then he remembered, and couldn’t help beaming like an idiot into his pillow. He remembered. Layla had called him a man.
A handsome man.
He stretched lazily, the sheets sliding off of him like a reluctant lover. Layla had seen him, really seen him for who he was. Not a nuisance, not an awkward neighbour’s son, but as a man. And that smile of hers… it only made his own smug grin more inane.
His feet hit the floor with uncharacteristic decisiveness, already beginning to mentally parse through his closet for something that didn’t scream childishness. Black button down? Too over. Navy polo? Too much like a school uniform…
A handsome man. To anybody else, a harmless compliment. To Roger that was the first time she’d ever spoken to him in a way other than to a fussy child. It couldn’t just be a coincidence.
He settled on a soft gray t-shirt that clung across his shoulders and jeans, trying to make the most out of his slight build. Splashing some cold water on his face he finger-combed his hair before pausing at his own reflection. There was a handsome young man staring back at him; hopeful and hungry.
Had it really worked? Had that potion made her see him for who he was, and made him the man she’d always wanted?
In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but remember the last words the potion seller had told him. “Be careful what you wish for.” Yet he couldn’t help gleefully grinning past the memory of her warning to her promise - he was getting everything he could have wanted and more.
Roger felt more confident than he ever had in his life. He was going next door, nice and early, to see just how well that potion had truly worked.
He took the steps two at a time as he made his way downstairs, muscle memory being well baked in from childhood; hell Roger could and had gone down those stairs in total darkness before.
“Good morning, sweetie.” Layla purred over her cup, hiding a predatory grin.
The monumental surprise he felt upon hearing those words caused him to promptly miss, and then slide down the last three steps with a staccato of ankle on carpet.
Layla and his mother were sitting at the dinner table, sipping coffee.
“G-good morning!” He chirped, taken aback at seeing her so soon, the wind robbed from his sails and stumbling back to his feet.
“Are you okay Roger?” His mother asked, concerned.
“Fphine.” He groaned through gritted teeth, ignoring the ache in his ankle as he straightened himself in front of the object of his desire, trying to look as casual as he could about it.
“Well, you see, this is precisely what I was talking about.” Layla announced matter of factly. “What if nobody had been here?”
“You’re so right, Layla, as usual. I’d never forgive myself.”
Roger glanced between his mother and Layla, eyes flitting in confusion.
“What if he’d broken something…” His mother fussed.
“Or worse.” Layla muttered coolly, eyes fixed on him. “Anything could happen to a young man when no one’s around…”
Roger again just blinked.
“What, uh… what’s going on?”
“Well I’m going away for a week.” His mother informed him, holding up an envelope.
“For a whole week?” Roger asked, mildly shocked.
“Yeah, it’s thanks to Layla. I’m going to a Spa retreat!” She smiled excitedly.
“I was going to go, but it turns out they don’t have facilities that would cater to my… height.” Layla grinned, licking her teeth ever so slightly.
“She offered to let me go in her stead, isn’t that nice of her?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s wonderful.” Roger smiled, not quite sure where this was heading.
“You see, your mother wants to go, but she was worried about leaving you here alone, Roger.” Layla lidded her eyes. “So was I.”
“I’d feel a lot better about leaving if you weren’t here on your own.” His mother nodded, turning to smile at Layla. “But Layla offered to take care of you while I was gone!”
Roger’s grin flickered for a moment. Take care of him? Like a child? He forced his smile back.
“Oh, that’s uh… that’s great.” He chewed the words out, trying to carefully manage his reaction. “But our home is kind of… small too, right? I don’t think that would work.”
He looked around, trying not to stare too openly at Layla as her prodigious body spilled over the edges of even the extra large chair they kept for her visits.
“Well of course not, Roger. I don’t even have a spare key to give you, I was looking for it and I just can’t find it for the life of me.”
Layla smiled innocently.
“You’ll be staying at my home, honey. With me.”
Every word dripped from her lips like venomous honey, as if just speaking them was giving her orgasmic pleasure.
“W-with you?” Roger winced, trying to wrap his head around the rapidly developing situation.
He could take care of himself, he didn’t need someone to take care of him but… Oh, spending a whole week living with Layla…
“That’s so nice of you. Thanks so much.” He uttered with measured tones, trying not to sound like the giddy child they evidently thought he was.
“You’re so welcome, Roger.”
“I better get going soon, I need to be there by tonight so-”
“Tonight? You’re leaving now?”
“Yeah, so grab whatever you need for a week and let me get this place locked up.”
Roger nodded, and without a word hurried back upstairs, lost in a dream. It didn’t feel real. Seven days with Layla, seven nights under her roof.
Just yesterday that prospect would have seemed like a disaster. A week of infantilising, condescending torment. Now though…
His hands trembled a little as he shoved clothes into a duffel bag. It was too good to be true. He had to still be sleeping.
Okay, so perhaps the circumstances weren’t ideal. She was still supposed to be taking care of him, like a child who couldn’t be left on his own, but… Well, who knew what she really had in mind?
Layla’s low chuckle carried up the steps as he descended them once more, his mother fretting over last minute things.
“He’ll be just fine with me, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of our boy…” She murmured, words dripping with promise in a tone that wasn’t meant for a mother’s ears.
.
His stomach tightened as he gave his mother one last hug, as his chin rested on her shoulder Layla’s eyes caught his with an utterly molten fire. Her car pulled away with the kind of crunching grind that always signalled a goodbye.
He was alone.
With Layla.
“Let’s go, sweetie.” She smiled, eyes on him as always.
Stepping out into the baking heat of the sun he stretched his arms wide, soaking in the air that was thick with the scent of fresh cut grass. Layla’s house loomed just to his left beyond the hedges, and the wraparound porch was bathed in sunlight; yet all the curtains had been drawn tight against the glare.
He eagerly walked by Layla’s side, just ahead of her, kicking piles of grass he’d cut the day before as he went.
“We’re going to have so much fun together, my sweet boy.” She said offhandly, making his heart skip a beat and his foot miss the ground.
Recovering quickly, lest the love of his life spy his fumble, he made his way to her door. His eyes travelled up, and up, and up. The door was massive, of course, but it had never felt quite so large in his eyes as he did now.
She fussed with her cream sundress, the one that was just sheer enough that you could see how it clung to her every beautiful curve, and he tried not to look - but that was hopeless. With utter burning embarrassment, he realised she was fishing around within her own colossally deep cleavage, and fixed his eyes back on the door with laser focus.
Taking perhaps a little more time than was needed to do so, she fished a key from between her gorgeous, monumental breasts - tiny as she held it in front of her body - and unlocked the door.
Layla dominated the doorway and leered down at him with unabashed desire, a knowing grin on her lips.
“Come on in, sweetie.” She murmured, voice syrup-thick as she held the door ajar to let him in.
Her scent wrapped around him like a blanket as he passed, the heat from her body so strong that even on such a warm day he felt like he’d passed a radiator.
“Let’s get you nice and comfortable.”
Her fingers grazed the small of his back as she ushered him inside, and lingered just a heartbeat longer than necessary, before she began to close the door. He took one last look back at the sunlight behind as she secured the door behind him.
Roger wouldn’t see the sun again for some time.
*****
With one click after another Layla locked her front door, again and again. It was quite a nice home, he supposed, so the security was warranted.
“Now Roger,” Layla turned to him on the spot and sighed with delight, “we have a whole week, and I promise, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
She guided him by the hand as she let that thought hang in the air before she continued, leading him to her kitchen. As he stood a little awkwardly she moved around her kitchen island to the opposite side, leaning over to look at him with a predatory glint. Her massive breasts began to spill forth atop the cool marble, and Roger suddenly found it extremely difficult to keep looking her in the eye.
“However, as long as you’re living here with me I am responsible for you - so I expect you to do as you’re told. You should think of me as your mother; under my roof, you will follow my rules. I don’t want to hear any childish whining, understood?”
Her features were almost gaunt, quite serious as she spoke. Yet Roger barely noticed as he had long since lost the battle to look at them. As she spoke, the sheer mass of her breasts began to cover much of the tabletop, devouring it all like a tidal wave.
“Uh-huh.” Roger mouthed and nodded, gripping the handle of his duffel bag tightly to his front to hide the swift growth taking place.
“Good… very good.” Layla smiled at last, eyes lingering on him as she walked over, enjoying the way he had to crane his neck to look up at her. “Let me show you your room.”
With that she effortlessly took his bag from his hand, leaving his fingers twitching in mid air at the handle’s absence before he could even object.
“Oh, you don’t have to…” He muttered, stumbling after her, trying to cover his budding erection even as she swiftly made her way to the staircase.
“Nonsense, my sweet boy. You’re my guest after all...” She grinned to herself at some hidden joke as she turned at the bottom of the staircase.
She strode up the steps with ease, but as Roger had found out before, they were designed for her comfort and not that of a normal person, let alone a small guy like him. Each step was just a little too large, and he had to hold onto the railing for support.
“Are you alright, sweetie? Would you like me to take your hand?” She cooed innocently from the top of the stairs, before biting her tongue. “I could carry you if it’s easier.”
“Uh n-no, it’s fine, no, thanks.” He puffed at her joke - at least he hoped it was a joke - forcing himself up the remaining steps, all the while her lidded stare burned into the top of his head as he leaned into his efforts.
When at last he joined her on the upper floor she held out a hand, gesturing down the hall.
“I’ve had this room made ready just for you. It’s right next to mine, so if anything happens you can just call for me.” She stood by the doorway, the ancient dark wood of the structure soaking in the light, and pushed the door open for him.
Compared to the archaic woodwork of the rest of her home, Roger simply wasn’t prepared for the sudden assault on his senses that came from the dizzying array of pastel blues and powdery pinks within. The bed was quite small, with padded railings at either side - almost like a crib, or a bed for someone not long removed from one.
“This was the bedroom the young boy of the former owners stayed in. I thought it would be just perfect for my sweet little Roger. Isn’t it wonderful?”
He just blinked in disbelief. Never in his wildest dreams could he have expected this.
“Isn’t… isn’t there another bedroom?” He asked, feeling the bottom of his stomach drop out.
“Oh my, Roger,” she said slowly and patiently, like explaining something simple to a child. “I chose this room especially for you. After all, I went to a lot of effort to get this room ready.”
He cursed himself, wincing at the hurt tone in her voice.
“Sorry, thank you for doing that for me. I would have helped-”
“Oh nonsense, I was happy to do it.” She beamed down at him meaningfully.
“I just… it’s very… childish.”
Roger could only gawk at the soft, shag carpeting, plush armchair, stuffed toys and glow-in-the-dark stars on the roof. Warm pastels coloured everything, as if it were more of a nursery than a bedroom. At long last his gaze turned back up to her, as she purred with unabashed delight.
“Mmmm, it is, isn’t it.” Layla practically slurred, her tongue dancing around the idea. “But what did I say about childish whining? You’re a growing boy, you ought to be more mature about this kind of thing. Of course, there is a young girl’s room across the hall, if you’d prefer…”
Suddenly bolting upright, Roger forced a smile.
“Oh no, this is fine. Great. Really.”
Her teeth glinted as her smile widened.
“I thought it would be.” She sighed dreamily, and immediately wrapped her arms around him, smothering the poor lad into her chest before he could even object. Their sheer mass was almost enough to force him to his knees as he buckled under their weight, but she held him pinned to her body. “Such a good boy.”
When she finally relented and pulled back his face was burning red, and not just from the heat of her close, sweaty embrace.
“Now, you take a seat while I get this all put away.”
“Um, but…” He began, but a single glance from Layla, and that beautiful smile, was all it took to silence him as he blushed.
“Not to worry sweetie, I’ll take care of it. In fact, I’ll take care of everything while you’re here.”
He tried to sit up on the bed, but found it difficult to get to. The mattress sat much higher than it looked. With some effort he was able to swing a knee onto it and pull himself up on the bed obediently before she saw him struggling - or he hoped she didn’t notice at least.
Layla set his duffel bag aside and began unpacking it for him. His jeans and shirts were folded, as he had failed to do in his rush, with a silent tut and shake of the head - although her smile never faded. Roger just sat there awkwardly, unsure what to do and with nothing to say, feeling as much like a child in her presence as ever, much to his chagrin.
Inevitably he wound up watching her, drinking in her every curve as every move she made was a poetry of motion. Her massive ass, as large as James’ Giant Peach, swayed with heavenly motions in his view as she took a seemingly deliberate amount of time fussing about what should go where in his closet. Every time she turned back, he had to snap his view to somewhere else in the room, but her blood-red lips curled so knowingly each time he was certain she had noticed.
“You’re being such a good boy, so very patient.” She praised him, and he couldn’t help but smile at her adoration. It felt so infantile, embarrassing even but… he loved it.
“Oh my, these jeans are so gruff. How long have you had them?” She remarked with mock dismay, turning them in her hands.
Roger didn’t answer, instead his eyes drifted to her colossal cleavage, which jiggled and swayed ever so as she fussed over his now quite worn attire.
When she was finally done putting his clothes away, after what had felt like an hour to Roger, she gently grasped his shoulder and roused him from his blissful daze.
“Let’s get you changed into something more comfy, hmmm?”
She held out a soft cotton tee and some tight gym shorts, and for a moment he blinked. He didn’t remember packing those at all. When he hesitated, though, she merely leaned into his silence.
“Do you need help changing?” Her cheshire grin burned into his cheeks.
“No uh, hah, no it’s fine. Thanks.”
She held onto his clothes for a few moments longer, as if she were considering forcing the issue, but handed them to him.
“I’ll be right outside.”
He threw her selected change of clothes on and, to his dismay, realised just how childish he looked in them. Perhaps he could change into something else later on… but Layla had put his clothes away and he hadn’t been paying attention to where she put what. Besides, she had already picked these out for him - he didn’t want to be thought of as childish.
“Now I’ll show you the upstairs bathroom where we’ll be bathing.”
He followed behind her as she spoke like a lost child, which in a house this large almost was.
“You mean, uh, showering right?”
“Oh no, sweetie, I don’t have a shower.” She said matter of factly, pushing open another massive door to reveal the immaculate, pearly white and opulent bathroom within.
Every inch of it was tiled in creamy white marble, and prominent in the middle was an archaic looking and utterly gargantuan porcelain bathtub. The ridge on either side had to be over three feet from the ground, and of course to accommodate Layla’s unfathomable body, it was practically a small swimming pool to Roger.
“I’ll draw a bath for you later, in the meantime I have a chore for you to do.” She quipped brightly, before smiling down at him.
It took a moment for him to draw his gaze away from the gargantuan bath to realise what she’d said.
“Oh, right. Yeah.” He nodded, eager to have something to do.
“After all, my sweet boy has to earn his keep.” She tittered before gently running her fingernails through his hair.
Layla projected an aura of love onto his confused face; felt the pull of his attraction deep in her core. She had spent so long growing into this body, and had wondered for so long why she had developed such a luscious form. Many painful nights had been spent dreaming of her perfect little one to compliment her massive size, an unfulfilled need that had only grown as she had. The massive woman, twice the height and many times the mass of Roger, bristled as the air tingled with possibility.
This longing was deeply remembered by her, the need, the desire she had known for so long. This was her best opportunity to fill the hole in her heart once and for all, and she had no intention of letting him slip away from her again. With delight she noted just how difficult it was for Roger to look away from her voluptuous form, and she intended only on becoming ever more enticing as she set the snare for her wish to be manifested. She had him close, and needed to keep him close so he wouldn’t notice as she slid into place the first bars of his cage.
With his welcome out of the way they descended the stairs once more, and he fortified himself for the work to come. Roger couldn’t help himself but stare with growing fascination as her ass seemed to jiggle and dance more and more with every step. Given their difference in height even at a step above her he was practically face to face with it. He tried to keep himself from becoming entranced by the easy rhythm of her body, but found he was swiftly falling under its spell as every massful movement of those curves made his body’s compass spin.
“Before you get to work, I thought we had better go over the ground rules while you’re staying with me sweetie,” she smiled as she turned around to find Rodger - much to her delight if not much to her surprise - mesmerized by her colossal breasts. “Rule number one,” she intoned softly, as his eyes refused to leave her breasts. “No shoes in the house.”
Roger nodded after glancing down at his feet to make sure, and to his relief found he had removed his shoes when he came in. A tiny bead of sweat collected on his brow as he forced his eyes back up to hers.
“Rule two, bed time is at 9 o’clock sharp, so you should be bathed and have your things put away well before then.”
He winced at that. A bed time? But the longer he looked into her glowing features the harder it became to even think of objecting, and he nodded again as her rosy cheeks grew closer, teeth gleaming through parted lips.
“And rule three, as I said earlier, when you’re under my roof you do as I say. While you live with me I am your mother. No arguing, no fussing. I know you’re a growing boy now, but if you can’t follow these simple rules, I might have to question that. Understood?”
Swallowing, and only half listening, Roger choked out an agreement which had he been more clear of mind he might have thought to question.
“Y-yeah.” He nodded eagerly.
“Delightful.” Smooth as caramel, she gently stroked his cheek, her eyes alight with intent. “Now let’s get you started on some work.”