RR Mayumi Okamoto - Chapter 13 (Patreon)

Reduction & Relocation - Mayumi Okamoto

Chapter 13 - Cruel Realities

[???]

Whenever the multitude of daily consequences of his enrollment in this perverted experiment became too difficult for him, Jaime’s brain did its best to escape his new reality; the cold, hard reality…or perhaps it was better described as soft and warm.

Since Jaime was brought along for literally every part of Mayumi’s life, involuntarily tagging along for every fraction of every second of her day, he was privy to every aspect of her existence.  Some of those fractional seconds were harder than others…such as the thousands that he counted when the busty Japanese woman slept.  She tossed and turned frequently, never staying on one side of her body for long and would often sleep either on her stomach or her left side.  The added weight of her hefty right breast atop the breast that Jaime called home caused the fat cell lattice structure that entombed him to compress significantly, making the next few hours quite uncomfortable, not to mention intolerably boring.

He didn’t like to admit it, but the jiggling and jostling of her busy days, while disorienting and embarrassing, at least occupied his mind.  In the hours of her slumber, all he could do was listen and feel her slowed heart rate and count her gentle breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.  Sometimes she would mumble in her sleep, speaking of what sounded like a bakery and friends back home.

Mayumi, despite being his unaware tit-warden, was a sweet girl. Jaime surmised as much with his front row seat to her life from his listening in best he could on her phone calls to her parents.  They sounded rather authoritarian and firm with her, and there was more than one occasion where she’d hang up the phone and cry.  Jaime wanted to comfort the girl…he wanted her to rest her head on his chest so that he could wrap his arms around her and tell her it was okay, but that was impossible…hilarious, even.

Jaime was in no position to comfort this Japanese goddess.  He was the one being cradled by her voluptuous left tit, packed like sardines amongst a countless number of fat cells as if he were attending a crowded club or popular band’s concert.  It was particularly emasculating to see glimpses of her personality that he enjoyed, feeling at times that he may even have a crush on her.  He was learning so much about her, and he’d sometimes fantasize about how he would use the information to get into her life.  But at the end of the day, he understood that he was a microscopic speck in Mayumi’s bulging tit.  Microscopic specks in bulging tits didn’t get the girl in the end.

By far, the most challenging moments for Jaime’s sanity were when Mayumi was getting fucked.  Sometimes it involved men, and sometimes it involved other women.  Sometimes she was getting roughly plowed and sometimes it was more tender and sweet.  No matter the type of engagement or the gender of the other party, one thing was constant: the interaction always HEAVILY involved her breasts.  And it wasn’t that much of a surprise…her tits were fucking massive.  Any romantic partner lucky enough to see her naked would undoubtedly be obsessed with them…as he had been the first day he’d seen her.

Jaime still had that image of Mayumi sitting opposite of him in that demonic waiting room.  She was wearing that sunflower-yellow dress with small…her legs crossed, dainty feet playfully dangling a matching flip-flop over the floor, but everything…even her beautiful face…was difficult to focus on as Jaime’s attention was pulled to her stunning chest.  She was seemingly unaware of how much attention her enormous tits commanded…but she had to be, right?  How could she just sit there reading a magazine all nonchalantly while having such huge, round, perfect tits?  It was just insane to him.  How could she just sit there not taking advantage of her heavenly gift?  She could have flatly requested that Jaime empty his wallet for her right then and there…and she had to know he’d have done it, right?  She had to have known that she didn’t need to work…that she didn’t need to try…that she didn’t need to lose.  Didn’t Mayumi realize that everyone was staring at them?  That it wasn’t possible to avoid staring at them?  How was it possible that SHE wasn’t staring at them?  Didn’t she understand that those epic, spherical orbs of bliss owned everything? They owned the room that day.

Fast-forward to today, and now they quite literally owned him…specifically the left one.  Everything else in that waiting room went dark when the Japanese beauty walked in, for the twin suns under her sun-hue dress emitted so much light and called so much attention, Jaime literally couldn’t focus on anything else.  They had temporarily become his entire world.  Fast-forward to today, and her left tit truly was his entire world. However, like those moments in the waiting room, it would be temporary.  The tricep injection was temporary…this would be too.  He just had to get to the end of this.

Suddenly, he was no longer sandwiched firmly amongst a looming crowd of warm, invasive fat cells. Instead, he heard crashing waves and warm gusts of salty wind.  The air was oppressively hot but the wispy salt water misting through the air felt cool and refreshing against his bare skin. He stared out longingly into the calm, waveless sea.  He knew it wasn’t real, but it was so cathartic to believe.  But then again, even his fantasies seemed to be tainted by a common factor.

“Jayyyy-meeee!”

Jaime’s attention was pulled from the ocean by the shrill voice of his stepmother, Wendy. Jaime took a few more moments to gaze before turning away from the unending horizon. He trudged toward the shore where his stepmother and two step-sisters were relaxing. Even from 100 feet away, Jaime could clearly make out his stepmother’s substantial rack as she and her daughters were standing up from their sunbathing towels.  Wendy’s breasts were one of her favorite features and they were always on full display, much to Jaime’s conflicting pleasure and torment. He was close enough to hear their annoying voices–like nails on a chalkboard– but still far enough away from the women to ogle his stepmom’s healthy, huge chest freely without drawing any criticism or judgment.

Jaime’s dad had provided everything for him…everything but siblings.  Growing up an only child was lonely, and Jaime longed for a sibling.  He would have preferred an older brother but a younger brother or sister would have done just fine as well.  Naturally, when he found out about his father’s engagement, Jaime was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting not one but two sisters…and they were even pretty close to his age! Avery was a year younger and Ashley a year older. He had no idea until he met and got to know them just how good he’d had it back when it was only him and his dad…back when he still had a dad…back before everything changed.

“Jaime Matthew Pendergraft, quit dawdling!” There was a not-so-subtle undertone of annoyance in Wendy’s voice from the sand as she screeched out to him again. “My middle name’s Michael, you hag.” Jaime grumbled as he trudged reluctantly toward the site where his step-mother and her two daughters had set up their towels.

Despite being carbon copies of the worst parts of their mother’s attitude and temperament, Jaime’s step sisters Ashley and Avery appeared to take more after their Italian father.  They had much darker hair than their mother’s, often meticulously braided and hanging to their shoulder blades.  Unlike their fair-skinned mother, the girls’ olive complexions were built for the beach, as were their figures. Their noses were large and their eyelashes thick. Their lips were full and in a perpetual sneer unless there were boys around and their eyes were a matching chocolate brown.  They hadn’t quite inherited their stepmother’s large breasts, and thank god because Jaime could barely handle having to resist staring at Wendy’s huge jiggling tits all day. Still, his bratty step-sisters were…gifted in other ways.  An onlooker might deduce that they were twins after a quick glance.  After a longer look though, which is typically what they received anytime they were out in public, the onlooker would almost certainly notice that Avery, despite being the younger of the two, was…well…bigger…in certain ways…much bigger.

Ashley and Avery were putting shorts on over their two-piece bikinis and adorning a matching set of large sunglasses. Ashley’s shorts came on with a few firm tugs, hugging her curves comfortably but Avery had to jump and bounce obnoxiously in order to get the tight material up to her waist. Each fervent bounce threatened to send the teenager’s bug-sunglasses tumbling down her long nose to the sand at her feet as the leg holes of the tiny shorts indented slightly into the undersides of Avery’s large cheeks.  Jaime didn’t really understand the point of the shorts because they barely covered any more of their fat asses than their bikini bottoms did.  Jaime was left to wonder, privy to no more information because he did not have the kind of relationship with Ashley or Avery where he could ask them something like that…or really ask them anything for that matter.

Wendy had mostly packed her items, consisting of a small cooler, an umbrella, and three chairs…all of which Jaime understood he would be carrying back to the car.  Jaime was a lot closer now so his incessant and uncontrollable gaze deep into his stepmom’s hypnotically swaying breasts was much harder to hide.  He found himself jealous of the tight teal material that struggled to hold the middle-aged woman’s large, mature breasts.  Somehow, he broke his gaze from the deep shadowy chasm where less light could reach and his eyes drifted up.  He found Wendy’s crystal blue eyes fixed on him.

Busted.

Again.

She’d been watching him gawk at her admittedly spectacular mammaries the whole time.

He could literally see the respect leaving her eyes, and he chuckled bitterly to himself, impressed that there was even still a breath of respect for her to exhale.  Sometimes it would be bratty amusement on her face instead of a respect deduction, but this time it was replaced by impatience and annoyance.

Wendy tucked the tiny bottle of tanning oil down between her swollen, sun-kissed breasts and grabbed the last of her things: a flowery pair of brown and teal flip flops.   Unlike Wendy and her conceited daughters, Jaime actually swam when he went to the ocean, as opposed to lying on a beach towel with big, ugly bug sunglasses and occasionally flipping over like a roasting pig to darken different sections of skin.  Ever the minimalist, all Jaime brought was a towel, which he was now looking for. As he cautiously stepped around the women who up to this point were mostly ignoring him, he was immediately criticized by Avery for kicking sand onto her towel.

“We’re getting ready to leave,” Jaime said. The annoyance in his voice was clear and unmistakable, but even so he stepped back respectfully from his younger step-sister. “You’re literally picking it up to shake it off.”

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” Wendy snapped back at Jaime. He had learned to stop there and so he did, ignoring the humiliation he’d felt as Avery whispered into her Ashley’s ear, eliciting a grin from the older sister.  His chin went down to his chest as he felt his cheeks redden, but he continued his search even as his bratty step-sisters giggled and whispered to one another.  Finally, Jaime found his baby-blue towel, but frowned at the sensation of the temperature.  It also wasn’t dry..

“Why’s my towel all wet?  …and sticky?” Jaime asked, his fingers adhering to the pale, milky substance made warm under the beating sun.

Avery spoke up, “Mama spilled her Malibu Cocktail on her chair so I cleaned it up for her.”

Even though Avery was answering Jaime’s question, the bratty teenager directed her answer toward her mother Wendy, who smiled approvingly and pinched her daughter’s cherubic cheek gently.

“With my towel??” Jaime inquired with frustration.

“What else could she have done?  Used her own?” Wendy snapped back defensively on behalf of her daughter.  “She was lying on her towel; you weren’t using yours. Give her a break for once in your life.”

Ashley scoffed as well, joining in with her mother, “She was doing something nice for her mom, leave her alone. And plus, I was the one who walked over to the resort bar and got it for her.  You didn’t do anything but stand out in the water like a weirdo.”

Jaime started drying himself off best he could, trying to avoid covering himself in his mother’s milky-white Malibu Cocktail. He brought one of the few dry spots up to dry his face and he got a huge whiff of Wendy’s tanning lotion.  Jaime grimaced, recalling something he’d seen from out in the water before being called back to shore. In his memory from not even an hour earlier, Jaime had seen Wendy leaning over in her chair just far enough for her expansive ass to separate from the cloth.  She then thoroughly wiped the seat.  Much to Jaime’s disappointment and disgust, not only did Wendy wipe up the milky-white beach beverage, but she was also wiping at her wet bikini bottom over her beach bum as well.  Cleaning up liquor at the beach.  Mopping up butt sweat. All with his towel!

It was so disrespectful, but what else was new?

He could definitely see what his father saw in Wendy.  She had bleach blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and despite being in her early 40’s, she could have easily passed for mid 30’s.  It also went without saying, but Wendy had the biggest tits Jaime had ever seen in his life.  He immediately recognized the power they had over him as a boy and even now as a man, and beyond her controlling demeanor, her swaying, exposed breasts imposed their own serious level of control over him.  Wendy seemed aware of it, much to his embarrassment.  She seemed to enjoy it, much to his detriment.

Her ample cleavage wasn’t often on full display in public like it was now at the beach, but it was one of those racks that just couldn’t be hidden under clothing. In addition to her big tits, she had done a great job concealing her ugly side during courtship with his father. He often wondered if she had continued the deception behind closed doors with his father..  Jaime wished his father was here so that he could ask.  Jaime wished he could ask him a lot of things.  The first question might have been if those changes to his will were really done by him…or someone else…

It's okay, Vee-Vee.” Ashley comforted her younger sister with her childhood nickname.

Avery responded with an indignance directed toward Jaime but she still spoke about him as if he wasn’t there. “I know it's okay, he just needs to calm down and stop being a baby.”

“She should have asked to use my towel.” Jaime grumbled to his step-mother as he started collapsing the chairs.  Ashley and Wendy were visibly shocked that he’d spoken again about the matter.

Avery quickly replied, looking up at Jaime with a sour look on her face, “Suck my butt, you friggin’ dork. Seriously. Nobody likes you”.

Ashley’s chocolate brown eyes widened and a hand rushed to her mouth to cover a grin. Jaime’s older step-sister’s look of amusement stung worse than Avery’s provocative insult.

“Both of you, knock it off.” Wendy sternly instructed both Jaime and Avery, but Avery was the only one to get a sympathetic shoulder squeeze. Jaime hated himself for it, but he couldn’t avoid stealing a quick glance at his stepmother’s modest behind as she bent to pick up her towel.  It was nowhere near as large as her daughter’s, and it wasn’t as captivating as her expansive chest, but it was captivating nonetheless.  Wendy didn’t catch him staring, but judging from Ashley’s sneer and curled upper lip, Wendy’s eldest daughter saw.

Jaime’s bare feet sunk into the sand under the weight of his heavy load.  His step-sister’s hands were empty, free to swing along in that erratic, exaggerated gait that proper, self-absorbed girls did so well.  A few steps ahead of her girls, Wendy’s hands were empty as well save for her dangling pair of brown and teal flip flops. Their lack of encumberment permitted the three women to accrue more of a lead on Jaime, which didn’t seem to bother or burden them in the slightest.  Not only that, but Jaime also had to deviate from the path to throw away the liquor bottle and empty food wrappers.

Due to her position ahead of him, Jaime was thankfully not tempted to steal any glances at Wendy’s immense and exposed rack, jiggling and bouncing with each overexaggerated step in the shifting sand, but when one problem goes away another appears.  Wendy’s daughters presented Jaime with that equal but opposite problem.

Unlike Wendy, Ashley and Avery’s most attention-grabbing assets faced away from them and provocatively toward Jaime. Their wide hips swayed rhythmically ahead of the huffing, out-of-breath boy. Avery wore a pink-and-white striped matching bikini set and Ashley’s was solid purple.  They were detestable and conceited, bratty and rude, but good god were they hot.  They looked like super models compared to most of the other girls in his school.  In fact, guys seemed to disrespect him just for “being in the way” by having a step-relationship with them. Jaime sincerely believed that the recent shift in his highschool and perhaps even the larger cultural view toward large backsides had originated with these two girls.  Ashley’s rump was big, but Avery, despite her short height and year behind her older sister, had the biggest ass Jaime had ever seen. It was as if she were carrying around a dump truck.

The conceited step-sisters’ colorful bikini bottoms peeked suggestively from their lower backs, under the matching checkered beach shorts that covered little more than their bathing suit bottoms did. Their awkward gait on the sand caused their hips to sway wider than usual and the material was hiking up in places that Jaime was already struggling to avoid staring at.  The shorts barely contained what they needed to contain, and more of their ass fat was jiggling out of confinement with each step.  Jaime was so weak. He didn’t know what bothered him more: how bitchy they were or how hot they were. Why did they have to be so hot?

“Why did we even bring him?”

Avery could have been considerate enough to actually whisper so that he couldn't hear her grumbling about him, but alas she was not.

“Dunno…he carries the stuff.” Ashley replied. “That counts for something prolly, right?”

The two girls giggled.

“I’ll never understand how he even dated that one girl.”  Avery said, to which Ashley replied, “The one that always wore those boobie shirts?  I have a few classes with her at university this year. Trust me, she doesn’t understand it either.”

Jaime winced to hear his step-sisters openly mocking him but what hurt the most was the reflexive chuckle that came from Wendy.  She wasn’t supposed to marginalize his masculinity.  It was already so awkwardly and developmentally fragile.  Wendy eventually suppressed her amusement at Ashley’s joke, but not quick enough to spare Jaime.  She was mean to him, sure–but why couldn’t it have just been in the usual way an adult is mean to a child or teenager?  She could favor her beautiful daughters in any altercation, she could impose on him a curfew while Ashley and Avery were free to come and go as they pleased.  All that was fine…it made Wendy an unfair, evil stepmother but this was especially cruel.

She was crossing even more sacred lines. The behavior reminded him of Stella.

Oh, what conflicting emotions were stirring up in his hormone and shame riddled mind.

Stella was a childhood friend of Wendy’s, and it boggled Jaime’s mind that such a sweet, friendly woman could be such good friends with a money-grubbing devil woman like Wendy. She was kind to Jaime, one of the only people on Wendy’s side to do so, but it came with downsides.  It seemed like Stella made a tradition out of looking for the lowest cut shirt imaginable to wear whenever going out.  Jaime would often become lost in the visual of the older brunette’s deep cleavage, her breasts on full display and while Ashley, Avery, and Wendy seemed immune to their captivating charm, Jaime felt his attention enslaved by their spherical wonders.  The way they bounced when she told animated stories…the way they compressed into his chest when she hugged him.  She’d accompanied them on more than a few trips to the beach, and while Jaime appreciated the fact that there was at least one woman there that was nice to him, he was tortured incessantly by his desire to see more of her enormous breasts.  With each coming wave, the chance of one of those huge fleshy melons rocking out of the tiny bikini strip would increase…another wave increasing the likelihood of that perfect pink nipple seeing the light of day.

The hugs were his favorite part, but he felt strange hugging her in her bikini…especially since Wendy would clearly judge and belittle him with her eyes..knowing exactly what he was thinking.  The only times when hugs were acceptable, unfortunately, were during her Christmas party.

At the most recent Christmas Party, everyone was donned in season-appropriate attire, wearing sweaters and dress shirts…hell, even Ashley and Avery were dressed conservatively in tasteful blouses that came up to their neckline. Not Stella though…

Later on in the evening, the sweet, thick woman was reaching for something on a shelf above and behind where Jaime was sitting. It was a Matryoshka doll she’d received as a gift from her traveling daughter, one of those dolls that opened up to reveal another doll inside, and another inside that one, and another inside that one, and so on.  She wanted to show it off to her guests but she was oblivious about where she was leaning–and whose face would have to accept the full brunt of her anatomical marvels.

The middle-aged busty woman leaned forward and her huge tits were mere inches away from Jaime’s face.  The wool material of her hard-working sweater encircled his face and obstructed his peripherals.  It took every part of him not to lean forward a few inches…just a few inches and he could have buried his face in the woman’s soft cleavage.  Heaven on earth was staring him in the face, and he somehow admired it from a distance.  It was the best moment of his adolescent life and he wanted to live there forever…until Wendy, who had clearly had a bit too much to drink, started laughing into her wine glass.  Jaime was ripped from his view of Stella’s stunning cleavage to the contagious laughing that had spread to the other party-goers.

“Stella, are ya about to feed baby Jaime?  I think he already ate!”

The fabric of Stella’s blouse briefly rubbed against Jaime’s nose as she turned to Wendy and he ached to feel the full cushion of her breast.  When she returned her gaze to Jaime down at her breast level, he was beet red and she joined in laughing.

“Ohhh, you sweet boy.” Stella said sweetly yet condescendingly. Fingers ran through the hair on the back of his head and she hugged his head to her chest. The middle aged woman seemed to understand his sexual angst and frustration, but she was so clearly amused by it. Where it amused her, it absolutely tortured him.  His nose was buried in her cleavage now, and everyone was laughing…he wanted to stay in here forever, vanished between the soft but forbidden wool-clad pillows, but not out of a carnal lust but as a means of escaping the evil feminine laughter of the room–a means to escape his evil, hot stepmother’s seemingly scripted emasculation sessions.  No christmas party was ever the same after that.

Once back at the car, Ashley climbed into the front seat and Avery in the back.  Out of breath from carrying all of Wendy’s, Ashley’s, and Avery’s things, Jaime crumpled into his seat next to Avery. Jaime’s towel fell from his hand to the floor of the car, where Avery’s bare feet, smooth from the abrasive grains of sand, quickly came down and rubbed into the fibers. Jaime sighed.

At least the walk back to the car had been over concrete  and packed dirt, so they were all content to have let the sand gradually pull away from their bare feet.  All but Wendy.

Jaime caught his breath in the backseat as he watched Wendy obsessively brush sand from her peds.  She wouldn’t stop until every grain of sand was evicted from her soles and between her toes, and she didn’t stop there.  Next, she’d have to remove every grain of sand from her brown and teal flip flops.  It was an interesting quirk of hers; Wendy would swear the worst feeling in the world was a grain of sand under her soles or between her toes after putting on her flip flops. It was one of many things Jaime’s father would try to understand but to no avail.  Thankfully, it was one of the few chores Wendy would not delegate to Jaime.

It was a terrible day, basically from start to finish.  His sisters didn’t go back to their father’s house like he hoped they would.  Instead, they would go on to spend the night, meaning Jaime was expected to spend the rest of the evening alone in his room.

As miserable an experience as that day was, Jaime would choose to live that day from start to finish, over and over again for the rest of his life if he could…if it saved him from his current reality.  At least in that reality he could swim and he could steal guilty glances at his step-mom’s big rack and his step-sisters’ fat asses.

Of course, in this new reality of his, he technically was swimming now too…and when you’re literally trapped in a fucking O-cup tit, everywhere you look is “rack”.  He bounced about as Mayumi walked, shifting to unwillingly tour new clusters of overprotective fat cells.  There were so many.  The jostling and jiggling made his efforts to try and hear Mayumi’s world impossible.  He felt so alone. He sank deeper, but found himself jostled and shook violently.  She must have been fucking another cock with her monsterous tits again. Jaime hoped he’d pass out before the lucky guy exploded…