Mason - Chapter 27 (Patreon)

“No, that sounds boring. And stupid.” Mason shook his head and got up, walking to the edge of the bed so he could head back to his room. He didn’t really expect Mikayla to let him go, and was unsurprised when she side-stepped in front of him, but since he only had a pair of boxers on, he was scared of accidentally getting an erection if some of the clothes she tried on got too revealing.

“Didn’t we just talk about this?” she sighed. “You’re not going anywhere.” She held up her phone and waved it in front of him, the vide of him stuck inside her bra playing on the screen. “Or I’ll let you leave in exchange for sharing this objectively very funny video with some of my friends. Not even my whole friend list, just—” She stopped talking when Mason turned back around, and a grin lit up her face. “Ope, okay then, glad you changed your mind.”

The first couple outfits Mason had to sit through weren’t anything that heightened his anxiety too much. First Mikayla put on a pair of acid washed mom jeans, and went through a trio of sweaters and long sleeve tops. She always changed in her closet, and the first group of outfits were fairly modest. The pants didn’t accentuate her butt, they more than covered up her legs, and the tops were all loose enough that the shape of her breasts were barely even visible. It was easy—although still boring for him—to give honest feedback on what he thought of the shapes, colors, styles, patterns, textures, and anything else Mikayla asked about.

Things got slightly less modest after that point, but the clothes were still normal, and Mason remained unworried about any possible arousal. Some of her questions started focusing on her figure though. For a slew of graphic tees, Mikayla wanted to know if Mason could easily read the text on her shirt or see the images without feeling like he was looking at her boobs. For a pair of leather pants, she spun around to show him her backside and asked if the material made her butt look fat (“and not in the good kind of way,” she made sure to point out). A cheap, simple blue v-neck and white halter top from ASOS both had Mikayla question if she looked “diet slutty,” which he somehow didn’t understand. “Like, slut adjacent. Or slut-curious, that’s probably more accurate,” she tried to explain, while reaching underneath to adjust her breasts, as if Mason wasn’t watching the whole thing. “I want guys to know I’m fun, but without encouraging douchebags to grope me at the club… at least, not any more than they normally do.” There was an awkward silence between them for a couple seconds, until she muttered “Actually, nevermind,” to herself, and Mason sighed with relief that he wouldn’t need to honestly answer that kind of question about her.

“I don’t really get why you’re asking me this stuff,” the tiny boy called to her as she changed into something new in her closet. “Especially the questions about… you know, your boobs and stuff. Like wouldn’t Skye be a better person to ask, as a fellow girl?”

“But you’re a boy, and I want boys’ opinions for a lot of these things. Just cuz I think I look hot doesn’t mean guys will when I go out.”

“This is just like the changing room all over again,” he complained, rolling his eyes.

“Well if it’s so hard, then just pretend that I’m the cute waitress you met at the restaurant the other day.”

Mason scrunched up his face over how stupid the idea sounded. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how it works.”

From there, after nearly 20 minutes of practically answering questions about how hot Mikayla’s outfits were, the clothes she began trying on started to really test Mason’s self control over his burgeoning hard-on. And the things she asked him became more blunt: “How do my boobs look?” and “Does my ass look good in this?” and “You think guys with foot fetishes will go crazy over these heels?”

At one point, Mikayla modeled a festival fit for Mason, complete with a silver, strapless crop top, an absurdly small neon pink skirt, and a pair of fishnet stockings. “I was thinking of wearing this to a Bad Bunny concert in a couple months,” she said, checking herself out in the mirror. She bent over and stuck her butt out, and started whisper singing “Titi me pregunto, to, to…” to herself while twerking. Technically, she wasn’t shaking her ass directly in his direction, but she also made no effort to hide her glutes as they wobbled rabidly beneath the skimpy skirt. Mason was so hypnotized by Mikayla's display that he didn’t even consciously realize she was gradually shifting closer to him as she twerked along to the beat of the song. It didn’t take long for the entranced teenager to pitch a tent in his boxers, and he had to uncomfortably grab it and try to force it upwards in an attempt to hide it.

By the time Mikayla stopped, she turned back around, chuckling as her energy died down. Right away, her eyes darted towards Mason’s underwear, and although it seemed a little bigger on him somehow, there wasn’t any obvious erection to be seen. He definitely seemed a bit fidgety though, and he was squirming in his seat like he was trying to adjust his boxers without actually touching them in front of her. “Something wrong?” she asked, pretending to play innocent.

Mason was too naive to realize she was faking her cluelessness, and shook his head with his own attempt at lying. “No. Just the back of my boxers are kinda scratchy. And I’m still cold cuz you won’t let me wear clothes.”

Mikayla shrugged, “Maybe you should get rid of some stuff too then. Buying new clothes is fun.” Looking at herself in the mirror again, she suddenly straightened her back, feeling pressure in her abdomen. Without bothering to warn Mason, she reached behind her and grabbed a hefty chunk of her ass cheek, pulling it back just in time to let loose a gassy, whiny fart. “Mmmmm, that felt kinda good,” she giggled. “Wonder what I ate.”

Mason couldn’t believe how brazen she was acting around him, especially considering how revealing her attire was at the moment. And pulling her butt cheek back momentarily caused her underwear to get wedged tighter in her crack, which obviously didn’t help Mason’s own underwear predicament. “Can’t you leave the room before doing that?” he asked, easily grossed out.

“It’s my room, dummy; I’mma fart in it as much as I want.”

“Yeah, but you have a guest in your room.” He paused, before adding, “For someone who’s apparently so hung up on making herself attractive to guys, you sure don’t seem to know the basics.”

She turned around, frowning with her hands on her hips. “Everyone farts. But not everyone has to look a certain way.”

“At least real girls try to hide it though.”

Grabbing her soda water, Mikayla took a sizable swig, while still glaring down at his little body, and then stepped right up to the bed. Leaning over him, she placed her hands on either side of his nervous figure, lowering herself down til she was just a few inches from his face. He stood up to try and scramble away from her, but she opened her mouth just in time to loudly burp directly onto him, and he fell over as the wave of carbon struck him. “Do real girls do stuff like that?”

“You’re literally just proving my point,” he grumbled. “Sooooo unladylike, Mikayla,” he sighed with a hint of sass.

“Hmm.” She nodded once, absorbing his take on the matter as she plotted out a way to mess with him. Stepping away from him, she began to slowly shimmy her stockings off as she waltzed towards her closet. “What I just don’t understand is…” she started to say, taking her top off just behind the corner and grabbing a red bra instead. He couldn’t see her changing, but she seemed to be making it abundantly clear what she was taking off and putting on. He expected it to take a minute, like all the other times she dressed into something new, but she suddenly emerged from inside her closet while still halfway through the process. Clad only in red lingerie, the kind that was meant to be shown off rather than covered up, she smirked wide and sauntered back to the tiny boy, her hips wagging and her tits bouncing freely. “How could someone who looks this hot not be considered a lady?” she asked with eager eyes, striking several sexy poses in the mirror.

If Mason didn’t already have an erection, he might’ve let his eyes linger a little longer, but out of fear that his boxers might give something away, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away (although not before taking a mental snapshot to remember for later). “What the fuck…” he muttered, although it was more of a statement of bewilderment since at this point her behavior wasn’t that surprising anymore.

“Why are you looking away?” she asked. “I told you I need your—” she bent over and pressed her finger into his bare chest, as if pointing directly at him, “—opinion!”

Mason jumped in his seat upon the feeling of her touching him, especially with how close her fingertip had been to his dick. “No,” he replied. “I was fine when it was just pants and tops. Normal clothes.”

“Come on, it’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal.” But Mason wouldn’t seem to budge on the matter, so she groaned and moodily stomped back to the closet to change into a new outfit. He heard her ruffle around some clothes, and the sound of fabric on skin as she put something new on, and then it went quiet. He figured she was on her phone or something, so he opened his eyes to wait for her to come out, but was startled to see she’d snuck over in the same pair of sultry red underwear, and was standing bent over, with her boobs hanging from her chest, smiling mischievously right in his face.

Squawking in surprise, he turned to bury his face in Mikayla’s blanket, but she reached out and grabbed his body before he could deny her again. Her thumb pad rested over his groin, so he closed his eyes and tried to think of gross things in hopes that she wouldn’t feel his boner. But she did, and she giggled, but was kind enough not to say anything about it and pretend she didn’t notice.

“Open your eyes,” she told him, and he shook his head.

“No way.”

“Just do it,” she whined, lowering his body til it was directly in front of her chest, just inches away from her boobs.

“This is like, sexual harassment or something Mikayla.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” she groaned, knowing he was technically right but also knowing that wasn’t the real reason that he was mad. “I’m not even topless if you think about it.” Mason gave up responding to her, so she in turn decided to give up on egging him on. But she didn’t want to stop teasing him just yet.

Slightly pulling back the cusp of her bra, she tucked him snugly into her bra cup, with his back against her skin, and then jiggled her tits a little bit to make sure he’d stay put. She went to stand in front of her mirror, and couldn’t keep from gasping at the image of the tiny little 3-inch person trapped helplessly in her bra. She bit her lip, wanting so badly to take a picture with her camera to save for later, but Mason peeked his eyes open before she could make up her mind. He too felt speechless; with her warm breast against his back, he was terrified (and more than a little turned on) at how gargantuan Mikayla’s tits looked right behind him. Literally multiple times his height and a dozen times as wide. Mikayla made him so hard that it started to hurt though, and he went back to fighting against her will, struggling to push himself out of her bra.

Amused by his pathetic desperation, she grinned down at him with her hands on her hips, watching him utterly unable to escape. “Get me out!” he exclaimed. “This is too far.”

“Oh come on, you were already getting friendly with my bra earlier. I just thought you might wanna get reacquainted with a different one.”

“I only got stuck there cuz you leave your shit everywhere all the time,” he yelled back. Since her bra cup was pinning him to her boob, he tried pushing against the edge of the cup, which he was currently only waist deep in, but that just caused gravity to take over, and he lost his grip, slipping even deeper into her bra. Now he really was scared. “Mikayla!”

Mason couldn’t see, but she paused for just a moment after watching him fall in. Seeing him completely disappear in her bra, she suddenly went through a fantasy in her head where she put some more clothes on and went about her day while he was trapped against her boob. She could even feel his teensy tiny feet tickling against her areola. “Please!” she heard him yell again, and his desperation this time sounded like a genuine spike of anxiety, not just annoyance or banter like before. With a disgruntled sigh, she reached her fingers in and pinched his wrists together so she could pull him out.

“Congrats, you’re saved,” she announced unenthusiastically.

“You’re so annoying…”

Mikayla raised her eyebrows, “Oh, you not a boob guy?” Pouncing right back into teasing mode, she crawled onto her bed and laid down on her stomach, bringing Mason's dangling form behind her and swinging him back and forth right above her ass. “This what you were looking for?”

“This is worse,” he said, nervously looking down at the 22 year old's thick backside, adorned by a pair of red panties that seemed at least a couple sizes too small.

“You better be careful, my ass just might swallow you up,” she cooed, lowering him up and down, closer and closer every time. She shook her hips back and forth, growling “Om nom nom nom nom,” as her ass cheeks bounced into each other like a hungry mouth about to eat the scared and horny boy hanging above. She even loosened her grip on him just a tiny bit, just long enough to cause him to slip in her grasp and make him think he was about to land in between the crashing mounds of her butt.

The sound of the front door closing made them both freeze for a second, before Mikayla swore to herself and tossed Mason onto her bed, hurrying into her closet to change into something decent. “I thought it wasn’t a big deal,” Mason sneered, and then realized he still had a partial erection visible in his boxers. He fidgeted with it and tried pushing it away, managing to reasonably hide it just as Nicole walked into Mikayla’s room without knocking.

She spotted Mason right away, and her eyes quickly went to his underwear, sending a chill down his spine as he wondered if maybe she saw something. “Where are your clothes? And what are you doing in here, where’s Mikayla?”

“I’m in the closet,” she replied, exiting her wardrobe in sweats and a t-shirt. “He was helping me clean out my closet.”

“Where are his clothes?” Nicole repeated, more pointedly to Mikayla this time.

Mikayla looked at Mason, like she expected him to answer, and Nicole glared back at Mason, who threw his arms up. “You wanted to keep me here and can’t even come up with your own excuse Mikayla?" He turned back to Nicole, "I don’t know where my clothes are. I mean they’re in the wash, cuz I fell and got a bunch of gunk on them, but I don’t know why I wasn’t allowed to put on something new.”

Hearing that her son’s predicament was her daughter’s fault didn’t surprise Nicole, but she still glared at Mikayla with an angry “Seriously?” expression on her face. Picking Mason up, Nicole marched off to Mason’s room to let him find something to put on while waiting for his clothes.

“I was just messing around!” she called out to them, but rolled her eyes, since anything she said now clearly didn’t matter. But she wasn’t mad at him for ratting her out, at least. Even if their (her) time had come to an abrupt halt, she’d still gotten a lot more fun out of Mason than she’d expected. Now she was just curious how much further she could push him.