RR Lori Warren - Chapter 34 (Patreon)

Reduction & Relocation: Lori Warren

Chapter 34 - Dessert

[November 19th, 2005]

Isabella’s mouth had opened so wide in shock, her entire foot could have fit inside and the light of the chandelier cast a glimmering reflection off her braces.  Michael’s expression was not as easy to notice but it was drastically different.  Lori could see that he was quite dazed from the impact against Isabella’s chest.  At his diminutive size, hitting Isabella’s chest must have been like smashing into the side of a building!  Now he was splayed out precariously atop the teenager’s soft breasts, one of his legs and one of his arms caught between the firmly held teenage breasts.  

With the two resounding thwacks (Gina slapping Victoria’s hand and Michael slapping Isabella’s chest), all the childish bickering had completely ceased and a deathly quiet hush fell over the room. And then all parties fully absorbed what had just happened. 

Victoria erupted into laughter, her eyes crinkling with amusement and even Gina couldn't help but join in. It was as though they had both found a shared moment of relief, grateful that the spotlight had momentarily shifted from them to Isabella, who unwittingly became the center of attention.

“Victoria Grace!” Lori said with indignance. 

“Don’t middle-name me, Mom!” Victoria said, her ear-to-ear grin somehow widening as her eyes twinkled mischievously, “It’s not my fault Bella’s always wearing those booby shirts!”

The timing couldn’t have been worse, as Isabella had literally been in the middle of a bite of the delicious Oreo pie before the assault. Now she was spitting it out onto her empty plate, her huge chest shaking left and right as if she were dancing.   Isabella lifted a dainty, elegant hand from her lap under the table and frantically plunged it down into her ample cleavage, attempting to evict the tiny, unwelcome intruder.  Despite her diligent efforts, Isabella’s scooping hand did not improve the situation.

“Sweety, calm down.” Lori said. “Take a deep–”

“--OH MY GOD, THIS IS SO GROSS!” Isabella shrieked and gagged, fluttering her hands. “IT SMELLS!”

She was not precise or calculated with her movement. Her typical grace had taken a backseat to her frenzied panicking.  Ironically enough, her inaccurate, imprecise, and frantic scooping and swatting had the exact opposite effect of removing Michael from her cleavage. Much to the large-breasted teenager’s shock–and much to the thinly veiled amusement plastered on Victoria’s face–Isabella was actually forcing little Michael down into the deep cleft.  Of course, Michael was perfectly aligned with Isabella’s goal: he wanted out from between her big, scary breasts just as much as she did, but her wild and dramatic response carried so much more strength than Michael’s squirming. Her breasts bounced and wobbled under the inaccurate prodding and scooping of her hand.  With each bounce, her ample chest claimed more of Michael. His other leg disappeared, and then his other arm.

It was like a feedback loop:  As Michael plunged deeper between Isabella’s breasts, the amount of ‘Michael’ in contact with her bare skin grew, thus bringing Isabella’s panic to new highs–which intensified her counterproductive attempts to remove him–which only forced him deeper.  

Lori watched in disbelief, her mouth agape. She made eye contact with Michael for a moment just before his head sank out of view. His entire body had been swallowed up between the teenager’s huge breasts.  Isabella realized far too late that her frantic scooping wasn’t going to work anymore and now that her hungry bosom had completely consumed the tiny man, she squealed in equal parts discomfort and disgust. Not knowing what else to do, she tried leaning forward over the table. The neckline of her clinging, low-cut shirt was considerably more ‘low-cut’ after having been thoroughly stretched out by her probing hand, and her immense breasts threatened to spill out.  

Just as Lori was about to intervene, Isabella gave up on plucking Michael up out of her cleavage.  She flipped up the bottom of her shirt, showing off her flat stomach, and Lori thought she was about to take off her top.  Instead, both of Isabella’s hands shot straight up her shirt from underneath. The fabric, still tight against her belly, stretched and warped as her hands darted up to each cup a handful of breast tissue, as much as each of her small hands could, anyway. 

As Isabella vehemently pried her bra-compressed breasts apart, the three slack-jawed spectators watched a frenzy of movement so deep into Isabella’s cleavage that it was practically underneath the teenager’s heavy left breast.  For a moment, it looked like Michael might have gotten hooked into her bra cup but Isabella bounced on her heels, pummeling Michael with literal tons of breast tissue until he dislodged.  The wild scrambling against the pink cotton continued down the front of Isabella’s shirt.  He tumbled briefly against her flat bare stomach, the orientation of his flips changing as he tried and failed to grab ahold of her belly button.  

Finally, Michael was birthed from the teenager’s deep cleavage. Isabella made no effort to catch him or even lessen the impact of his fall from her bountiful chest. Michael fell straight down onto the teenager’s dessert plate which would have probably been quite painful.  It may have even cracked the plate!  But luckily enough, the tiny man landed squarely onto Isabella’s final bite of Oreo pie.  The pillowy black, gray, and white mush absorbed the full impact of his naked body, allowing him to harmlessly sink face-down as the teenager above him spazzed out and hysterically reached for her napkin.

“Ewww, Ewww, Ewwwww!” Isabella cried out, half-chewed oreo caked in her braces as her lips curled back in a disgusted and panicked sneer.  She plunged a napkin down between her breasts, prissily trying to wipe away any trace of the less-than-pleasant smelling man that had just passed completely through the extended stretch of her cleavage. None of her attention was on the poor, battered boy on her dessert plate. It wasn’t Michael’s fault he’d ended up there but that didn’t matter to Isabella.  It didn’t seem to matter to Gina either. In fact, the only other person who was even looking at Michael trying to climb out of Isabella’s spit-out bite of Oreo Pie was Victoria.

Lori leaned over the table and reached in for Michael. She extracted him from the expelled mouthful of Oreo Pie on Isabella’s plate. He was so thoroughly coated in Oreo Pi that he nearly slipped out of her fingers but Lori managed to secure her hold and plop back down into her seat. She then pressed him firmly into a clean napkin, wrapping the edges around his body.  

“Want me to clean him off, Mom?” Victoria asked innocently.  “I can take care of it.”

“Oh, I think you’ve done enough!” Lori barked, gently rubbing the food from his naked body as Isabella swiped napkin after napkin between her breasts.  Once Lori was satisfied with her job of cleaning Michael off, she pulled him from the napkin.  

“Oh, poor baby.” Lori said. His eyes were wide and he was trembling. And even so, she watched his wide eyes remain fixed on her mostly cleaned dessert plate.  His lips started moving, and so Lori raised him up closer so that she could hear him better over the chaos.

“Lori, I didn’t get a chance.  Your daughter…she…she picked me up before I could start.  I haven’t eaten yet.  Please, let me have some..” Michael pleaded.  

Lori was taken aback...even after the pandemonium and danger he’d just been through, all he was thinking about was that Oreo pie.  She couldn’t help but feel a swelling sense of pride and conviction.  It looked like she’d definitely made the right dessert choice!

“Oh my god! This shirt is ruined forever!” Isabella wailed between exaggerated, wide-open gags.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Lori said sympathetically.  “You’ve caused quite a commotion here.  You can eat later when things calm down, I promise.”

“Lori, please!”  Michael was frantic and obsessive. “You have no idea how much I need this! I’m begging you!”

“Michael, stop.” Lori said. “You’re being as dramatic as my girls.  I made a promise, I’m going to keep it. Okay?”

Without waiting for a response from Michael, Lori leaned over and lifted the immense expanse of her right buttock from its perch upon the hard wooden chair. Without hesitation, she guided him downward, her fingers tracing a path along the curves of her waistband until he nestled snugly between the warm confines of her parted glutes.  She aligned him within the deep gluteal valley of her crack, using the perfect combination of gentle and commanding pressure. 

With a satisfied and relieved sigh, Lori released her hold on Michael, allowing her hand to fall away as she settled back into the comfort of her chair.  Her hips shifted and settled, her buttocks flattened and splayed, and Michael found himself cocooned within the protective cushion and softness of Lori’s crack. He was shielded from the outside world by the impenetrable fortress of her flesh, and now Lori could finally relax.

“How does Mom’s butt smell?” Victoria said laughing to the fussy teen cleaning her breasts.  Lori couldn’t believe her audacity.

Isabella looked up in disbelief, her furious eyes igniting over her mascara-caked cheeks

“I dunno, why don’t you smell your fingers, you crud-bucket!”

Victoria looked at her fingers. They carried a subtle wet glimmer, making the shiny glitter of her chipped dark blue nail polish pop even more dramatically.  A subtle hint of disgust crept across Victoria’s face but she also laughed, unceremoniously drying them off with a paper towel as Isabella pawed at her chest.

The impact zone of Michael’s body against her chest was now forming into an ugly welt.  “It’s going to scar!” Isabella cried, pressing her fingers against the discolored skin. “And I stretched my shirt trying to get it out of my boobs!”

Victoria laughed again, prompting another stream of black tears down Isabella’s cheeks as she turned away and sprinted up the steps.

The aggressive thumping of Isabella’s feet fainted into a slamming of her bedroom door upstairs, and then there was silence around the table. 

Lori cleared her throat.  “Victoria, clear the table. When you’re done, go to your room…for the rest of the night.”

Victoria had the audacity to don an expression of shock.  “Mom, what?! It’s only like 7 o'clock! Plus, it was an accident and I didn’t even put Paddy down her dumb booby shirt. Technically Gina did!”

Gina looked up incredulously from her phone. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“Technically, this is all her fault!” Victoria proclaimed, sticking her tongue out at Gina. “She didn’t have to smack Paddy out of my hand!”

“Victoria Grace…” Lori said through forced, calming breaths as her patience visibly thinned to the width of a wafer.  “Right.  Now.”

Her youngest daughter’s reaction was immediate and loud. With a deafening scrape of protest, she scooted her chair back, the sound echoing through the room. Victoria then snatched her plate from the table and began stacking the others on top of it with exaggerated force, each clatter punctuating her frustration. Lori felt Michael twitch from deep in her crack, presumably from the very loud sound of the plates. She grinded her wide hips into the seat, allowing her overflowing glutes to somehow sink even deeper and splay even more prominently around the hard wooden surface. She wanted Michael to remember that their softness was there to protect him from anything…even unruly and aggressive teenage girls.  

“Do it quietly, or it will be two nights.”

Victoria still stomped heavily but the clatter of the plates was now quieter.  Lori watched Victoria load the dishwasher and wrap the remaining slice of Oreo pie. She put it in the bottom shelf of the fridge and then looked at her mom, the teen’s hands anchored on her wide hips.

“Now what?”

Lori narrowed her eyes on Victoria.  She really did look just like her mother, more than the other two. She had just as much attitude as Victoria did when she was her age, too.

“Now?  Oh, now you go to your room.” Lori said, mirroring the teen’s sassy stance.  “For the rest of the evening.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, “God, this is so unfair.”

“Yeah, yeah.  You’re getting off lucky, missy.  Listen up, focus!”  Lori snapped her fingers, calling Victoria’s rolling eyes to her gaze.  “Michael is not a toy, do you understand?”

Well…that’s not totally true, now is it?  Colleen would probably disagree with that…

“Yes, Mom.” Victoria grumbled.

“If I catch any of you playing with him or even touching him, you’ll be grounded for much longer than the evening, I promise you that.” Lori’s tone carried a motherly firmness that Victoria knew better to ignore.

Gina verbally complied with little incident.  Victoria agreed as well, but it was hard to hear as she stomped upstairs.  After all the loud stomping ceased, Lori heard Victoria shout to Isabella through her bedroom door, “Mom said that if any of us touch Paddy again, we’re grounded for forever. That includes youuuuuu!”. Victoria slammed her door. 

Lori rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, ‘Teenagers…’. 

          *

Lori gently separated her substantial cheeks, creating a space in their deep, dark cleavage that was just wide enough to extract Michael. The warmth of his body mirrored the heat nestled within the depths of her gluteal crevice, which was a testament to the snugness of his fit since dinner several hours ago. He’d only just been separated from the constant skin-to-skin contact with her cheeks and already, Lori sensed the gradual dissipation of that gift of warmth they’d bestowed upon him.

“I’m sorry about earlier, sweetheart.” Lori murmured, gently placing Michael on her nightstand. Here in her bedroom, Lori and Michael were in a sanctuary of peace and silence.  She liked to think that it was an extension of her bottom…a place where he could feel safe from the unpredictable and scary world. 

Lori took her time as she settled. Her movements were unhurried as she reached for a pair of pajama bottoms that lay nearby. The fabric was a delicate light blue satin that whispered against her fingertips softer than even Michael could.

“It…yeah, it was pretty scary when she grabbed me.” Michael admitted.  Lori had to double-take at his response. It was unexpected for Michael to have agreed with her; usually he would have pushed down his own feelings to align with Lori. Just went to show how terrified he must have been to be in Victoria’s clutches; the poor thing.

Slipping into the snug embrace of the pajamas, Lori felt the fabric conforming to the generous curves of her hips. Despite the fact that they’d grown tighter against her thighs and rear over the years, she couldn't deny the allure her favorite pair of sleepwear still held. Their satin sheen cast a subtle glow over her voluptuous figure and Michael’s bug-eyed gaze instilled within Lori a sense of confidence she never tired of.

“I know, dear.  I raised her better than that. She’s just quite fascinated with you. In truth, they all are. 

As she settled onto her bed, the frame groaned in protest and the mattress creaked under her weight as she swung a hefty leg up onto her knee to remove her sock, and then the other. 

“You should hear some of the questions they ask about you.” Lori laughed, rubbing her tired bare feet with both hands.  

“What’s for dinner, Lori?” Michael asked timidly.

‘Wow’, Lori thought. ‘He must be really hungry to just change the subject and flat-out ask like that.’

It made sense to think he would be that hungry.  She hadn’t fed him at all today.  Not since she started the vitamins. At one point in the mall, she’d just about snuck him a small sliver of Auntie Anne’s pretzel but at the last minute, decided against it lest one of the mall-goers catch her stuffing morsels of food into her bottom.  Lori had heard about viral videos and didn’t plan on being the next one!

And there really just weren’t any good opportunities after that.  Such a shame, really, since this was his last day.  And now, this was the time of night when Lori would give Michael his dinner. Typically it was some sort of crumb from a sandwich, bagel, or doughnut.  Sometimes it would be tiny flecks of meat, fruits, or vegetables. Sometimes they were from her own meals and sometimes they were leftover scraps from Gina, Isabella, or Victoria. Victoria had once asked to feed him from her hand but had to be gently reminded once again that he wasn’t a pet.  

But unfortunately that wouldn’t be happening tonight.

Unfortunately for Michael, Lori couldn’t remember every detail of her conversation with Dr. Walker.  She was 90% sure that giving him a full dinner was permissible, but she didn’t want to run the risk of disrupting the new regimen.  She’d fought tooth and nail just to get Michael his dessert!  She could have called Dr. Walker right now, she supposed, and asked again…Lori could have asked if Michael was allowed both a final dinner and a final dessert…but she didn’t want to be a bother. 

No sandwiches, bagels or doughnuts.  No meat, fruits, or vegetables.  No grinning teenagers with small handfuls of crunched potato chips. All there was on the nightstand was Michael, her alarm clock, and the pill container.  

It was taller than he was. 

Everything was, after all, including the special little treat that was waiting for him downstairs in Lori’s fridge.

“I’m glad you asked, Michael.  How about….dessert instead?” Lori said with a huge smile.

Lori’s heart melted to watch the tiniest smile spread across the tiniest lips.  “That would be so great, Lori.  It did look really good today...not so much when I was..umm...in it though.” Michael said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Lori laughed out loud, savoring the joke from the little man.  It was so great that he still had a sense of humor! “Well, you just wait right here, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Micheal nodded his head happily and took a seat on her nightstand next to her bed.  

Lori slipped her bare feet into her slippers and started downstairs.  She wasn’t excited about breaking the news to Michael about the vitamin regimen and what it meant for him.  It wasn’t going to be easy telling him that he’d be weaned off normal food but she could see the validity in what Dr. Walker asserted about the change in diet.  Lori quietly stepped off the last step and rounded the corner of the living room, cast in a checkered pattern of dim, pale moonlight.  She crept the short distance to the kitchen.

This new vitamin regimen really would increase his independence.  It would allow him to eat and drink to his heart’s content whenever he wanted.  Maybe it would even encourage her to get out to the gym or go on some morning walks, if for no other reason than to feed and water him. It really was going to be a win for everyone involved. 

Tonight wasn’t about that conversation though.  

Lori tore off a paper towel from the roll on the counter.

Tonight wasn’t about the coming changes to Michaels’ diet.  

Lori grabbed one of the small paper cups from her pantry and filled it with water, setting it next to the napkin.

Tonight wasn’t about what a continued change to his diet might mean for his future.  

Bright, white light flooded out of the fridge and a cloud of cold air washed over her slipper-clad feet.

Tonight was about Michael’s well-deserved last meal.  His Oreo pie...as much as the little guy could fit in his cute, little body. 

Lori scanned all the shelves, starting at the top and finally coming to the bottom.  She’d looked everywhere for the lone slice of Oreo Pie set aside for little Michael…

…but it was nowhere to be found.  

She spotted the plate that once contained the lone slice–but the slice was gone.  Lori frowned. All that remained now atop the cold dish was a wrinkled sheet of cellophane and several small streaks of chocolate.

Not even a single crumb.  Lori sighed, throwing the cellophane away and setting the warming plate down in the base of the sink. 

‘Well…’, Lori left the kitchen and headed for the stairs, determined to find the silver lining in this unfortunate situation. ‘...at least I found something that all the girls really like.’

Lori entered her room to find Michael still sitting there on her nightstand.  From her bedroom door, she could see the confusion on his face with her empty hands. 

“One of the girls must have eaten the last slice, honey.  I’m sorry.”

She could see the confusion on his face turn to disappointment. She would have loved to tell him that she’d make it up to him tomorrow.  That she’d make him a whole pie for just him, as funny as that might look.  She couldn’t tell him that though, not without lying.  This was his last night...his last chance.  Lori felt more sorry for him than he did himself, and it was because he didn’t understand yet.  

Lori blamed herself, as usual.  She should have told the girls to save the last slice...heck...to even save a quarter of a spoonful, that's all it would have taken!  But now that quarter of a spoonful was being digested in one of her sleepy daughters, probably barely even appreciated. It was so unfair; she was planning on making Oreo pie again for dessert again next week, but it would be too late for Michael.  He wouldn’t be able to have any.

As Michael spoke, Lori eased her considerable frame onto the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to dip noticeably once again beneath her weight. With a weary sigh, she settled herself, the bed creaking softly in protest as she adjusted her position.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she began, the words weighed down by a heavy sigh, "we can talk more about that tomorrow." 

Confusion etched itself onto Michael's features, his brow furrowing in concern. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked. "I wasn't bad today... and about Isabella... I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, if I'd have known I would have--"

Lori's interruption was gentle yet firm, her voice cutting through Michael's quiet rambling with a sense of reassurance. "No, sweetie," she interjected, her tone soft with affection, "that wasn't your fault. And no, you didn't do anything wrong." 

Struggling to find the right words, Lori paused, her gaze dropping momentarily as she searched for the strength to articulate her thoughts. "It's just..." she began, her voice trailing off into a heavy sigh, "...it's just... sigh... we'll just talk about it tomorrow, okay?"

Michael nodded.

“Do you trust me, Michael?” Lori asked.

Michael hesitated, staring deeply into her eyes...and then he solemnly nodded.

Did he truly? Or did he feel like he had to say yes?  Was there a difference?

Lori gently circled her fingers around his body, sitting there on her bed.  “Good night sweety.” She pressed her chest against her knees and brought the hand containing Michael behind her.  She felt his tiny little feet fluttering against the smooth bare skin of her lower back, sneaking him through the waistband. That initial feeling of her fingers and the tiny person against the skin of her inner cheeks always felt foreign for the first second or two, but once he was sufficiently deep, something about it just felt right.  She pried her cheeks a bit further apart to make sure she could really get him deep.  She leaned back, allowing her cheeks to meet, cleanly tucking him in for the night.  With Michael put to bed, Lori took the dose of vitamins, preparing Michael’s first meal.  She turned out the lights and went to bed. 

~