The vidscreens were as vibrant as modern technology could ever hope to make them. Many people often argued that their quality surpassed even seeing something in real life. They were perfect, just like everything else. Everything was perfect in their society, especially when compared to the far more primitive past. At least, that's what David had always been taught, but David couldn't help but wonder.
Staring through each of the high-fidelity vidscreens was David - or rather, a visualization of who David could be. One of these was someone he would be, if his mother had anything to say about it.
David, however, wasn't interested in any of that. Instead he kept his nose deep in a book. It was one his father had left him, by a man named Dostoevsky. According to his father, he was a man who lived many centuries ago, and was an important thinker and author in his time. His father was adamant that his son be well read. He wanted David to expand his mind, and learn to think for himself.
Now that it was just him and mother, things were different. His mother had never agreed with his father on many things, least of all how to raise their son David.
“I can’t decide which I like more, six or nine…”
David wasn’t really listening. He had already been through this multiple times, and, he knew, it was often best to just ignore her. Though, ever since his mother's transformation, he had found that oddly difficult to do, for… some very big, and obvious, reasons.
“What do you think David?”
He took a moment, pretending he hadn’t heard her, but he knew it was hopeless. When his mom wanted his attention, she would get his attention. Soon his peripheral vision was awash with monumental thighs, which simply beggared all belief.
Or they would have anyway, back before they developed the Transformation. According to what they taught in school, the Transformation would give women the perfect bodies to aid in the perfect society. Of course, the Transformation was entirely voluntary, but it did come with certain… benefits. It was enough that, now, transformed women like her were the norm rather than the exception. Indeed, most girls transformed as soon as they hit the minimum age requirement of 21.
Clad as ever in her tight clothes, specifically tailored to accentuate her perfect body, David instinctually found his eyes traveling up his mother’s perfectly shaped mons toward her full and pouty tummy as she slowly grew closer. Soon, the massive swell of her breasts filled what little space there still was between them, and left his father's book pinned tightly to his lap.
As his eyes rose, the canyon of cleavage her massive bosom offered seemed to last forever until he nervously met her gaze.
“Well?” His mother asked absentmindedly, her expression vacant over the rim of her wine glass.
“Oh, sorry I- I… wasn’t looking.” He mumbled as he hurriedly tried averting his eyes from the buxom, and goddess-like body his mother now possessed.
“Well, pay attention David, this is the most important decision you will ever make. Do you understand?” His mother asked, swirling her wine glass idly in her hand before taking a nice long sip.
She was growing tired of this, and at eight feet tall,while sporting measurements that would bring any warm blooded man to their knees, she was not someone to mess with. She was now like most other women in society, tall, powerful, and thickly built. Each trait was attributed to a Venusian goddess in their own right. Every inch of her was perfectly sculpted perfection, perfectly honed to be picturesque, and the absolute epitome of womanhood.
Her face was the same, smooth and flawless, it was impossible to tell how old she was anymore. For nearly as long as he could remember, she looked exactly like this. He only had fuzzy memories of the way she used to be, before she became ‘perfect’. He got the feeling that something else had changed in his mother that day, or maybe it had always been there. Whatever it was, behind her bushy blonde bob and wired smile, something just felt different.
His mother had always been overbearing, and domineering, like all mothers were, however since her transformation all of those aspects of her personality seemed to be amplified, just as much as her physical assets. Though his memory of how she used to be was a bit fuzzy, he occasionally wondered if the changes to her personality came from the confidence in her new body, or was it something a bit more…unnerving? What if something in the transformation process had changed her personality permanently, along with her body?
David was reminded of a quote from one of his father’s old books; it had stuck with him ever since he had read it as a child. ‘Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely’.
As he sat there in front of his mother, he was suddenly aware of just how small he must look. David wasn’t a particularly large guy, even by pre-transformed standards, and, even if he had been, his mother would still have easily towered over him.
“Come on now, you must have some idea, some inkling of what you want by now, surely.” She mused, looking up at the vidscreens as David, having no other choice, reluctantly closed his book and glanced up.
He wasn’t looking at the screens exactly, but past them. Their home, on the far outskirts of the city, was tucked away on a hill. It was just secluded enough that, on a clear night, David could still see the stars. Elevated on a hill, their house overlooked a panoramic view, though it was often lost on him, as the house was surrounded on all sides by a massive concrete wall. He couldn’t see over it unless he was indoors,and the best place to see it was just beyond the vidscreens. The view reminded him that there was beauty out there; nature, unspoiled by man. Life out there was as it had always been. That much at least he did like about the place. However, it was very isolated. He rarely saw his friends anymore, and they got even fewer visitors. That seemed to be just how his mother liked it.
His father, back when he was around, had been reluctant to move so far out of the city, but mother had insisted the fresh air would be ‘good for them’. Of course, it wasn't lost on either of them that the place had been built to house a transformed woman. Back before she was transformed, his mother was different, but she always seemed to have a plan for the future. In the end his mother got her way, as it seemed women always did.
The rooms in their house were extremely spacious, indeed David couldn’t help but feel like a child again wandering through the cavernous spaces, unable to reach counters and drawers without a stool. Despite being only one floor, the roof towered well over what many regular homes would have had in the past, at least according to his father’s books.
“So? What do you think?” She asked again, tilting his chin up toward the vidscreens, which blocked an otherwise beautiful view of the world.
“I- I’ve looked at them before…” He murmured, squirming uncomfortably in place.
David had been reluctant to talk about the transformation again, but his mother had been talking about it for years. She had transformed when he was still young. honestly, he barely remembered the old her. It wasn’t long after her own transformation that his father had also gotten one. It likely wasn't long after that she began envisioning his own some day.
It had always felt like that day would never come… it always felt so far away, but the day he was old enough by law to be declared eligible came and went. His 21st birthday had barely started before his mother was shoving pamphlets into his hands and proclaiming how wondrous and amazing it would all be.
She probably pictured that, like so many other boys, his 21st birthday would be spent at the conversion facility.
David, however, had always had issues with the idea.
“Well, there really is no sense in waiting. You ought to figure out what transformation you want, and just get it done sweetie!” She announced cheerily, squeezing her arms around her prodigious chest and crossing her hands in front of her in a way that made her bosom swell in ways that current understanding of the laws of physics was scarcely designed to account for.
His mother stood there, with her massive thighs barely parted, her hands resting on her waist as she ogled the vision of her boy on the vidscreens anxiously; perhaps a little too anxiously.
“You’ll be so cute, Davey…” She murmured dreamily, barely addressing him.
“Don’t you like how I look now?” He croaked, not realizing what he’d said until it was out.
His mother rounded on him with a quizzical look, harsh judgemental eyes flashing at his overly familiar tone, before her features softened with infinite compassion.
“Oh well of course, sweetie… I love you more than anything in the world. You’re my special boy.”
She lifted him easily, despite the fact that he was a mostly grown man. She took him into a powerful hug, made all the more terrifying by how delicately he handled him. She held him, just as she had when he was young, smothering him between her breasts veiled by her thin, low cut top.
“Mom!” He exclaimed, his voice muffled as he struggled, but she held him firm for a few moments more before releasing the thoroughly reddened boy.
“Sorry, I just forget sometimes you’re all grown up now… well, for now anyway.”
She giggled as her suggestion sunk in, her eyes slowly drifting back toward the screens.
Following his mother's gaze, David looked upon the fate society had envisioned for him. Small, weak, frail, and diminutive forms stared back at him. In each he looked to be no younger, yet he was so much slighter. The smallest was barely four feet tall!
“You know, I do think number six looks best.” She cooed in his ear, her massive breast gently pressing into - flowing up, around, and over - his shoulders, as she gracefully moved in behind him. “In fact, number six looks just like you.”
A smile crossed her face as she subtly guided his head toward the vidscreen.David swallowed, taking in the view in front of him, as he was slowly taken in by the glow of the screen. Number 6 was a newer model, and as he stared at himself with mousy hair and thin shoulders, he knew he would be practically helpless at that size. Although he grimly acknowledged, as his mother’s firm grip tightened on his shoulder, that even as he was he was already a small guy in a world of giantesses. This would simply be cementing that look, forever.
“You’d be so small, just like all the other boys…” She sighed, and he felt her massive form beginning to slowly press atop his, and he couldn’t help but shrink beneath it. “So cute… so adorable. The girls will be all over you after you've transformed. They won’t be able to… help themselves…”
He saw his mother lick her lips a little as she motioned toward the screen, causing more detailed information and a rotating 3d model of his to-be transformed self to pop up. She couldn't seem to get enough, and, as she spun the doll-like model around on her fingers, David tried his best to look away.
Still trapped within his mother's firm grasp, however, he couldn't get far, and his eyes soon fell on the text protruding from the left side of the vidscreen, along with the interesting picture attached to it. The architect behind this model was apparently a woman named Dr. Valnurana, and something about her seemed… different somehow. She was undoubtedly transformed, she was far too perfect not to be, but there was something about the way she looked that seemed so much more natural. The subtle imperfections only accentuated her beauty, and made her hard to look away from.
It was only when he felt some of her weight lifted off him that David came to his senses, and he shied from his mother. Instinctively, he took the opportunity to retrieve another book from the shelf.
“Oh David, what are you looking at now?”
“Oh…it’s you…from before,” he replied, only just now realizing which book he grabbed as it fell open to a page.
She settled in beside him on the massive plush chaise that was sized much more for her benefit than for a normal size man.
“I forgot we had this old photo album.” She noted, before gasping. “Look, aren’t you so cute in that photo? Your first day at high school… oh you were so nervous, remember you sat in the car for an hour before I could convince you to go in?”
David nodded, but pointed down.
“Yeah, but I was looking at this old photo of you.”
“Oh… the old me. Back when I was barely any bigger than you.” She huffed slightly, and squeezed his shoulder.
As he looked back down at the photo, David focused on his mother’s hand on his father’s shoulder. Her eyes were fixed on his, her fingers digging possessively into his father’s shirt, like a bird of prey. There was something awfully sweet and playful about it, back when they were young and in love. That was before his father had gotten the transformation… She had gotten it first. It had been sudden, although David had been too young to remember most of it, but it wasn't long after that his father had got his own.
As he looked at that photo, David could see she was always the kind of woman she was now. Even then she had had a firm grip on his father…
Just as she did now with her son.
“Mom, if a guy didn’t want to get the transformation…”
He absently looked back up at the screens for a moment, before quickly looking away. The thought of losing so much of himself to the transformation terrified him. He shivered, opening his eyes, as his gaze landed squarely on his mother, and her utterly mind-melting body.
“Oh I hope you’re not going to continue with that silly nonsense again David!” She spoke to him in soft, vapid tones, with a sweet and playful coo as if she were speaking to a child. “We both know this is what you’ve always wanted. Isn’t that right?”
Her voice was as sweet as honey as she slowly ran her hands over the curves of her own body, before slowly inching her way up his thigh. Images began to flash through his head. Years of being bombarded by her bodily presence had become the topics of many shameful, and sweaty nights in his bed, leaving him weak in the knees.
“W-well… uh…”
“You wouldn’t have to leave home, of course.” She added, voice silky smooth like velvet as she took another sip of wine. “You could stay here with Mommy as long as you want… I could cuddle you and keep you warm, and safe. Just think of how small you’d be compared to Mommy…”
Her face grew closer, her voice barely a whisper, as her hot breath clung to his skin. He felt her large hand caress his leg as her voice caught.
“S-So cute…” her voice trembled, as if the idea was just too exciting for her to handle.
David blanched.
“It’s just…” he murmured, trying his best to squirm away, “I don’t have to do it if I don’t want to, do I?”
His mother grinned politely, fixing him with a long stare before finally shaking her head.
“Of course not. Nobody can make you get the transformation, sweetie.” Her fingers curled around her large wine glass, clutching it gently, yet possessively. “But I think you’ll find you'll want it before long.”
“All boys do in the end.”
***
TV entertainment, as usual, was an endless parade of beautiful and hyper-sexualised transformed glamour models. David’s father had often told him it hadn’t always been so, that back in his day TV was about more than just sex and beautiful women. He’d often wanted to show David some older media, but they hadn’t had a way to play any of his old movies. Apparently you needed a special machine for the discs that they didn’t make anymore. His father often grumbled about that, but his mother said it was for the best, and people shouldn’t dwell on a past that was so much worse than life today.
Nowadays massively thick and busty transformed women dominated every aspect of entertainment. Everything was always perfect in the world of the screens. David usually grew tired of it before long, but there wasn’t much else to do. As such he was resigned to recline and simply absorb the endless barrage of sweaty bodies and massive jiggling tits which would easily smother David’s head bombarding him daily.
Yet as he reclined in front of the television on their gargantuan sofa, he didn’t hear the silken approach of a silent predator. Even as her presence loomed over him, a greater and greater mass soon occupying the space behind him, David remained blissfully unaware.
With alarming alacrity, hands snaked down to cup under his arms, only to flurry their fingers for a moment with pure ticklish sadism, rendering him utterly senseless in glee, clamping his arms down around the intruders.
Yet in a well practiced move, that made it only too easy for his auntie Mabel to lift him off the sofa and smother him in a bosomy embrace. Soon his face was sinking into her prodigious breasts as she was so often want to do whenever she visited.
“MMMFH!” David squealed in mirthful disapproval, yet his auntie feigned ignorance.
“Oh my special nephew, how are you Davey?” She asked in a singsong tone as she blanketed his face in kisses, leaning over him from behind.
The massive woman was by now very adept at molesting him at every opportunity she found, with years of practice. Eventually she relented, putting the boy back down on the sofa as she rested her head in her hands. The body she had selected for her transformation was far more toned than that of his mother. She towered over him, being even taller than his mother was. Her more muscular form just made it that much easier than it already would have been to treat him as if he was still just a child. Hell, from a distance one would have assumed he was compared to her.
“I haven’t seen you in so long! My my you’ve grown up…” His auntie said softly, yet she sounded almost disappointed that he had grown.
“Yeah… it’s been… months?” David said weakly, recovering from her merciless ticklish assault.
He did love his auntie, yet he had always felt a little uneasy around her. Unlike his mother, there was a sharpness there behind her eyes. It always felt like she had far more going on below the surface than she gave away.
“Now what’s all this I’ve been hearing about you?” She asked gently, before sitting on the massive sofa’s armrest as easily as an untransformed person would a stool. “You know your mother is very worried.”
“It’s just… the transformation. I don’t think I want to do it.”
“Aww, sweet boy…” she cooed, and slid down onto the sofa next to him.
He shuffled over as her body began to press into his, but she put an arm around his shoulder to softly but firmly keep him right where he was. David’s heart beat a little faster as, by necessity, his cheek was now firmly pressed into the side of his Auntie’s truly massive breast.
“Why on Earth wouldn’t you want to?”
“I don’t want to change, I want to just be… well, me.”
“Oh come now, I’m still who I was before, right? I just look different. I look great! Don’t I?”
“Well… yeah.” David admitted, blushing furiously as his auntie squeezed him tighter, pressing his face just a little more firmly into her breast.
“I think you’ll love the new you.” She cooed, and kissed the top of his head. “And so will your mother and I… not to mention all the other girls. All the girls your age are going to be transformed soon, you know.”
“I know… but I like who I am now.” He groaned, ducking out of his auntie’s grip at last and falling back on the sofa cushions. “Don’t you?”
“Well of course I do. So does your mother. The only difference is you’ll be a sweet, cute boy ready for everyone to pluck him from his feet and have her way with him…”
“You already do that.” David smirked ruefully.
“True.” His auntie grinned with a wicked glint before she leaned closer to him. “Come now. I think it’s about time you tell me where you’re getting all these ideas.”
“Well… Dad always-”
“Oh of course, your father. Your dad was a lovely little guy.”
“I know he was, but… before, he and I talked a lot.”
“So? You and I are talking now. You can still talk to people after you’re transformed.” She tickled under his chin at that with a smug grin.
Batting away her hand as best he could, he persisted.
“No, I mean really talking. About life. About bigger ideas. Not this flashy stuff on the vidscreens, see?”
He gestured to an advert for a water bottle which was currently playing, which involved an extremely busty girl in her 20’s jogging in an extremely skimpy sports bra, which had barely enough material to cover her nipples, with the bottle between her breasts. With each bounce her tits were squeezing together just enough for some liquid to splatter against her almost entirely exposed tits, soaking them as she ran.
For a moment, his Aunt paused, but turned back to him with a bemused smile.
“Is there anything wrong with beautiful women being on TV? I know a young guy like you doesn’t mind seeing sexy women all the time, right?”
“Well no, but… there has to be more to life than just… giant women, beautiful bodies… Ever since I was young that is all the world has been. That’s all I’ve ever known. That’s all any of us has ever known.”
“What’s so important that it needs to be on TV?” She asked simply, as if that was a simple question.
“I don’t know… anything. Anything but just this.” He gestured to the TV where the advert had devolved into the girl actively squirting water into her open mouth as it dripped down across her breasts. “It’s just… all transformed stuff. There has to be more to life than just the transformation.”
“What’s so wrong with that? All the boys I know who’ve been transformed love their new lives.”
“Life has to be about more than just… massive, beautiful women.” He said at last, before staring up into her eyes. “I want more from life than that.”
His auntie looked at the screens for a moment, taking in their endless charade parades, before at last she levelled her gaze at him; her lidded eyes spelled out her thoughts.
“You know what I think? I think you’re not feeling well. I think my little nephew needs a little instant smile…”
David’s eyes widened in fear as those words, in that tone of voice, summoned memories of when he was younger. Those plush lips of hers curled with intent as he remembered the countless times when he had spoken up, only to be swiftly smothered into silence as massively bosomed women slowly unbuttoned their shirts…
“N-no! Uh-” He stammered, and tried to pull away from his auntie, but she had a firm hold on his wrist.
“I know just what will make all those silly little worries in your tummy go away…”
Chewing his lip in pure anxiety, David wrenched against his auntie’s silk-wrapped steel grip.
“Please, uh, come on Auntie Mabel I’m- I’m too old for that now.”
“Little boys are never too old for their Mommies to make them smile… or their Aunties.” She added with a smug grin.
With a gentle but firm tug, she soon had the boy sunk into the gap between her pillow-soft tits and pillow-thick lap, his entire leg barely covering the breadth of one of her thighs. As he tried to stammer out objections, she was uncaringly tugging at the neckline of her soft, knitted blouse, slowly revealing more and more of her creamy, bronzed flesh and the cavernous cleavage therein.
Both out of shock and, to no small extent, conditioning from countless such feedings, he suddenly quietened.
“P-please…” he whispered in a pathetic final protest.
Hushing him as one would any fussy child - which as far as she was concerned was essentially the case - she grinned knowingly as under the strain of sheer gravity her blouse gave way and her titanic breast fell forth.
A squeak was all he managed before her prominent nipple was prodding insistently at his lips, and she deliberately interpreted his exasperated and nervous groans as those of excitement.
“It’s been so long since I got to do this with my good little boy…” She added with a smirk, a wry tone she always seemed to reserve for when she made him blush.
“Oh I wish I had a boy of my own. A boy to call me Mommy. To drink. To… well, more than just drink.”
She seemed lost in contemplation, her voice turning husky at the thought coupled with the physical closeness she now felt to the boy she had in her grasp.
Her attention snapped back to him, though, as he pathetically tried to lift the immense weight of her breast away from his face in an effort to - if not escape - at least breathe.
“Now now, no being fussy, open up for auntie. You know it always makes you feel sooo much better…”
He forced his lips together as tightly as he could, pursing them as he shook his head what little he he was able to as his auntie’s arm crept under his neck to pull his head firmly into her breast.
“Don’t be difficult, you know it always puts an instant smile on your face. It makes good little boys all silly and… giggly.”
She slowly curled her fingers against his neck, as her other hand moved down between her lap to tickle at his inner thigh.
David grunted in frustration, his throat tightening. Memories of his younger days came flooding back and deep down he knew it was hopeless. She would just tickle him until he gave in, until he opened his mouth in laughter only for her to plunge her massive dripping nipple between his lips. He also knew just what euphoric hell awaited him, though, and desperately fought to delay it for as long as he could.
“Come on, be a good boy and open up for mama, good little boys are never too old for their instant smile…”
As her lecherous fingers wandered, finding new ticklish spots to exploit to try and pry his lips apart, she eventually bit her tongue between her lips as an evil idea occurred. She gently began to trace her nails along the outline of his balls as she kept his thighs wedged apart. No matter how he tried to force his legs together her bicep alone was enough to keep them spread.
Instantly he was shaking as sheer overwhelming sensations flooded his body. A mix of extreme ticklishness, and immeasurable sexual teasing, was like a bomb going off in his mind as his ultra-sensitive skin was subjected to a feather-light but voracious assault. It was only a matter of time. No guy could have hoped to hold out forever. He inhaled deeply, felt his lips part, but before he could screech in laughter his auntie had seated her milky nipple deeply into his mouth.
“That’s it, that’s it…” she gushed triumphantly, having so easily overcome his meagre resistance, “such a good boy, and now… smile for me.”
As thick and creamy gouts of milk instantly flooded his throat, he felt warmth begin to spread from deep within him almost immediately. One by one, his muscles relaxed as each was forcibly untensed by the chemical cocktail within, as if each muscle had been given its own individual massage of a lifetime. Indeed, as she softly cooed, he felt his eyes roll back as a wave of pleasure wracked his body, soon followed by another, until each increasingly willing gulp was rewarded in a deliberately addictive cycle.
He winced with exasperation, but couldn’t fight a lifetime of engendered response. Slowly but surely, a dumb grin spread across his lips.
“There’s that smile…” his Auntie whispered, playing at his cheek with her finger.
What irk remained was washed away in a sea of bliss as her heavy cream settled in his stomach and flooded his system with a wave of chemically induced giddiness. He giggled and twitched with boyish delight at her infantile teasing, only more so when she cooed at him as if he were just a child.
“That’s a good boy… see? Wouldn’t you love to feel this way all the time? This is what your whole life will be like after you get the transformation.”
It had been a while since he had last felt this way. He had as best he could always tried to find any excuse to avoid being breastfed the intoxicating milk of a transformed woman, or instant smile as it was so often and condescendingly referred. For years he insisted on preparing his own lunch to take to school and had narrowly avoided his teachers’ wrath, who seemed to love finding any excuse to ‘cheer up’ their wayward male students with a heavy and extended session of nursing.
The alternative was this. Total bliss. The more he drank, the better he felt, riding an endless tide of pleasure as it coursed through every inch of him - several inches in particular. His cock was practically thrumming within his loose shorts, to no small degree because of the attention his auntie had been paying it not a few moments before.
Yet deep within him something burned, he railed against the very joy which was being forced upon him like a trapped beast. His very soul seemed to fight to stay afloat amidst the rising tide of creamy bliss.
Time rather lost meaning, as even fully in command of his senses David would have swiftly lost track of just how long he lay there, helpless in her arms as she nursed him against his will. The feeling of her nipple throbbing as he suckled, forcing more and more of her cream down his throat, was almost hypnotic in its rhythmic pulsing.
When at long last his auntie removed her engorged and slickened nipple from his mouth, long and thick enough to tickle the back of his throat with each throbbing gout of milk it poured forth, he was left gasping. Not just because of his frantic and euphoria-induced swallowing having left little room to breathe, but because his entire body was now so sensitive that even the tiniest movements of his clothing against his skin, or his auntie’s delicate but lecherous touches, were leaving him practically breathless.
“There… I knew I could put a smile on your face.” She soothed him, and petted his hair.
He began to forget just what he’d been so worried about before.