RR Nina Beckett - Chapter 8

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Reduction & Relocation: Nina Beckett

Chapter 8 - Sample Collection

[February 1st, 2010]

David tumbled out of Dr. Becotte’s toe ring onto cold glass.  He realized, despite its stretching on for hundreds if not thousands of feet, it was yet again another small microscope slide. 

“David, we need to collect a semen sample from you.” How could Dr. Bexley say something like that in such a clinical and professional tone.

Before David could fully even process what Dr. Bexley was asking for, or the implications that her request carried, Dr. Becotte had removed her sock and sneaker, setting her bare foot atop the table right in front of David.  ‘Oh, not this again…’

He cowered in the monolithic presence of her massive bare foot, her gargantuan heel anchored into the countertop. The landscape of smooth, subtly wrinkled flesh continued on into the heavens where the goddess’s toes, laughably out of reach, stretched up further into infinity…so far above that he could only see them when they wiggled.  

David immediately recognized the scent that the blonde beauty had left behind on her toe ring…now the heavy, fragrant aroma was coming to him straight from the source.  It was earthy and feminine, flowery with hints of a subtle bitterness.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Bexley asked curiously.

David felt the table vibrate through his bones as Dr. Becotte scooted her foot forward, closer to David. “I’m noticing that a significant number of our subjects have an affinity for the female foot. It’s unconventional, I know–but you should have seen how quickly I was able to wrap a sample collection last week like this.”

“Umm…you think he’s into that?”

“I’M NOT!” David shouted.

“Well, we have to try something. I don’t think my usual extraction methods are going to work on this one.” Dr. Becotte said, gesturing toward what David fearfully surmised must have been some sort of medieval torture device.  Vivid images painted themselves into David’s mind, illustrated and animated flipbooks of naked subjects much larger than he strapped to the device and taken advantage of.

“I’m pretty sure his rectum couldn’t even support the probe without tearing..well…everything…let alone what would happen to his innards after turning it on.”

“Duly noted, Dr. Becotte.” Dr. Bexley said jokingly.  

“David, we need that sample. It’s very important.” Dr. Bexley said.  She leaned in close, the shadow of her form eclipsing the overhead light.  “Please…don’t put us in the position where we have to try to…extract it from you.”

‘What the hell does that mean?’ David asked. He didn’t want to find out. He also couldn’t avoid staring at the raven-haired beauty’s more than generous bust pressing into the table beneath. It must have felt so nice to have all that weight taken off her shoulders.

“It looks like he’s got eyes for you.” Dr. Becotte smirked.

David’s attention ripped from Dr. Bexley’s compressing breasts up to Dr. Becotte, who was smirking through the lens of a magnifying glass.  

Busted!

The beautiful blonde doctor cupped her hand over Dr. Bexley’s ear and began whispering.  David watched her sharp jawline bouncing up and down and then Dr. Bexley rolled her eyes while trying to conceal a smirk reminiscent of pride and…dare David dream…reciprocation?  He’d seen that gaze before…that eye roll.  It was high school all over again–where his friend told her friend to tell her that he liked her.  When everyone was so worried about what everyone else would think.  When no one was courageous enough to just say how they felt.  Was Dr. Bexley responding that same way now?  The effort she was putting into not smiling was evident in the way the corners of her lips twitched.  It was enough for David to answer.

Yes.

A thousand times yes.

Dr. Bexley unbuttoned her lab coat, revealing a low-cut purple shirt. She transformed right before David’s eyes.  Sitting there in just her t-shirt and jeans, she looked like a normal person.  Well…maybe not normal.  Definitely a heartbreaker–a girl that he could bring home to Mom who’d joke that she’s way too pretty for him.  Not some mad scientist that had turned him into a fleck of dust that lived in foot jewelry. Already stretched so tight by her huge breasts, the purple shirt looked ready to explode if she took too deep a breath.  

The shirt dutifully maintained its integrity in concealing the raven-haired beauty’s swollen breasts, albeit stretched to obscurity, as her arms raised. But as she reached around back, David became transfixed on the lower portion of Dr. Bexley’s now exposed lower stomach. It wasn’t toned or sculpted; it was flat in appearance but had just the right amount of plush; perfect to rest his head on if he didn’t feel like drowning in her cleavage. Her belly button was just as small and cute as she was, although now both her and that belly button were of godlike proportions to him now…he had to keep reminding himself that. 

There was some rustling under the purple garment, and then suddenly David could make out her stiff nipples poking from under the shirt.  He felt equal parts of fear and arousal as he pondered how small he would be compared to even just one of those stiff nipples.  And if a single nipple would outsize him several dozen or even several hundred times over, how much larger was one heavy, swollen breast?  It really communicated clearly to David not only how much larger Dr. Bexley was than him, but how much stronger she was, too.  The volume of her breasts had to be on the scale of a small neighborhood.  And this beautiful, short, charming woman lugged around two of them on a daily basis with grace!

David felt his right hand take on a life of its own, wrapping its fingers tightly around his hardening cock. ‘This feels wrong…’ David thought as he began pumping, ‘but her tits….they’re just so big.’

He barely noticed the black and white polka dotted bra coming out the bottom of Dr. Bexley’s shirt.  Nor did he notice her handing it to Dr. Becotte. 

“Oh, this is super soft, Alex…and the pattern is so cute.” Dr. Becotte’s fingernails delicately traced the lining of the larger-than-life left bra cup. “Where did you get it?”

“You know that cute little boutique kind of way out on the other side of town?”

“Ooo…Cuddle-Bug? The one that just opened up?”

Dr. Bexley nodded. “That’s the one! I was getting some cupcakes at Sprinkles Bakery across the street for a birthday party and there were signs everywhere talking about the grand opening.”

David groaned, watching the blonde’s curious fingers sink into the plush cushion meant to support Dr. Bexley’s fair and delicate but sizeable and significant breasts.

“Oh, that’s awesome! I haven’t been in yet but I might have to check them out. How were they with sizes?”

A shake of her head ‘no’ was enough to send a rippling wave through her unrestricted breasts, pulling a whimper from David’s lips and doubling his pumping speed. “Not great.  But in fairness, let’s just say my size isn’t always easy to come by in stores so I won’t hold it against them.  I’m used to having to do some serious digging through the bins to find treasures like this.”

David was too enthralled with Dr. Bexley’s body and her flagrant discussion about her gargantuan breasts to feel offended by the girl-talk commencing over her soul-stealing black and white polka-dotted bra. It reminded him of just how different he was than these women.  He had walked through the doors of the lab in a suit, thinking that he was on the same level as these brilliant young scientists…but now here he was completely naked, reduced to around 1/32 of an inch tall, masturbating to a woman who wasn’t even looking at him.  He was completely smitten by her.  

He was already incredibly close, his member stiffening with each quickening pump and when Dr. Becotte set the bra down next to him, still chatting with Dr. Bexley about where they buy their underwear, David was assaulted by the thick, fruity fragrance emanating from the bra cups.  He imagined jumping into the cup and nuzzling his face into the super soft shelf that her ripe, heavy breasts rested upon him.  He could handle the weight, probably.  

But in this addled, hormone-laden state he truly and honestly didn’t care.  Being pulverized into blood and powder beneath that hundred-ton tit would have been an incredible way to leave this cruel world.  And if he survived, he could just stay there under all that tit flesh; he wondered how many pumps he could thrust into it before he exploded.  

If only he was larger, he could imagine the soft jiggle of the tit, the wave of flesh propagating rhythmically out from its underside where he literally made love to it.  Alas, at his size, there would be absolutely no response from the breast.  No noticeable mark.  But there didn’t need to be.  Independent of his impact to leave an impression on those globe-like breasts, they were leaving a world-sized impression on him.  

It pushed him over the edge immediately.

Their interpretations of the undergarment emphasized the stark difference between David and the two women.  To them, the bra was nothing more than a conversation piece…some cute article of clothing that could be discussed platonically and casually among friends.  To him, it may as well have been the lock and key to his mind’s prison.  Dr. Bexley used that bra as a tool to support her heavy breasts and yet David felt enslaved by its mere existence..the thought of it being so close to her all the time.  How could he really feel jealous of a bra? 

Sexual frustration and inadequacy were at the forefront of his brain as he felt the orgasm getting close.  He felt himself cross over the threshold..that threshold every boy knows about; where you can’t turn back.  It was going to leave his little body devastated.  David wanted her to notice him, but she was still distractedly chatting with Dr. Becotte about upcoming sales on underwear.

“Yeah, I don’t have as much trouble finding my size; I wouldn’t mind having your problem but the grass is always greener, right? So, you said there’s a sale next….oh”  Dr. Becotte trailed off; it was her eyes that tracked David’s progress first, a seductive smirk spreading across her face.  “He’s definitely getting close.” Dr. Bexley’s eyes were now trained on David and his heart skipped a beat as the raven-haired beauty squinted and the corners of her lips lifted. 

“You can do it, David.” Dr. Bexley said.  That was enough right there.  Her mere approval in this moment was enough; it could have pushed him over an edge 400 miles away.

David whimpered weakly as his throbbing cock fired rope after rope of thick, white ejaculate, landing in scattered piles on the glass slide around his feet.  His knees wobbled as he strangled the remaining spurts of cum from his achingly rock-hard shaft, attaining new confusing levels of humiliation and ecstasy.  Even as the final droplets of cum splattered around him, David had not softened.  He continued pumping his tiny, practically invisible cock because it just felt so, so good. 

David’s panting and trembling didn’t earn him any time to bask in the afterglow of his shame-filled orgasm. As soon as Dr. Becotte confirmed via magnifying glass that David was passing no more ejaculate onto the slide, she shooed him off so that she could examine it up close. All eyes had been on him, but now they were only interested in his ejaculate. In reality, that must have been what they were looking at all along, the only difference being that it was inside of him.

“It looks like we didn’t even have to set him in the bra cup.” Dr. Becotte giggled, playfully swinging the massive brassiere like a pendulum.

Dr. Bexley’s mouth opened. “I was literally about to pick him up and put him in!  Great minds, right?”

“Fuck…I should have held out..” David said out loud, cursing himself.

“I may have to borrow this thing for future specimen collections.” Dr. Becotte teased, pinching the sexy bra and fluttering it within her fingers.  Dr. Bexley rolled her eyes and did even less this time to hide the prideful smile as she playfully snatched the bra back from Dr. Becotte.

David never liked the term for what he was feeling, but the term was ‘post-nut clarity’.  The shame and humiliation that had previously stepped back enough to at least let his fantasies get a little sunlight.  But now he was firmly back in reality.  Back in the lab.  Back under the control of these psychopathic women.  Still, David stared at Dr. Bexley. Even beyond the need to cum, her body comforted him.  He would have loved to watch her put the bra back on, but Dr. Becotte had scooped him back into her toe ring and screwed the lid.  Unlike Dr. Bexley, Dr. Becotte wasn’t conscious of the ring’s orientation, resulting in the pink jewel, his window of the world, pressing down against the tabletop. 

4 Days Later

David heard faint footsteps and indistinct feminine chatter off in the distance.  Still in the pleasant escape of slumber, David struggled to hold onto his dream for as long as he could, but the footsteps of reality were getting closer.  He stubbornly resisted. Each microsecond was the largest of victories in his mind–a delaying of the inevitable but a delay nonetheless.  He had to take what he could get…and like him, what he could get was so very small. 

If he’d learned anything since arriving at RR Labs about a week ago, it’s that victories didn’t come easy at this new size so he had to take them where he could get them, even if it was just the soggy crumbs. The last of his dreamy escape evaporated into the ether when the door to Dr. Bexley’s office opened and the four overhead light fixtures energized with blinding white light.  

There she was, clad in damp mint green exercise shorts and a white sweat-stained baseball tee. 

It was so strange seeing her this way.  Sort of like when he witnessed her in the tight purple shirt earlier that week but this time there was less of a sexual framing in his mind. Not completely absent of sexual framing–this was Dr. Bexley, after all.  But she just looked like a normal, short, cute girl you’d see out on the neighborhood road running with headphones on.  He imagined himself behind the wheel of his car, passing by and sending two friendly horn honks, and then melting when Alex looked up and waved with a smile.  

The thought made David wonder how many of the beautiful women he’d seen out running over the years actually had a miniaturized man at home waiting for her just like he was waiting for Dr. Bexley.  It was a big world, after all…the number had to be non-zero.

Each strand of her charcoal-black hair danced independently as a thin hairband struggled to contain her rebellious flyaways.  As she took a long swig from her water bottle, she looked not like half of the genius duo that formed the laboratory he dreamed of working for…and certainly not the deceptive, unethical scientist that tricked him into shrinking for god only knows what reason.  Still, of all the women he’d interacted with so far in this strange lab, Alexandria Bexley was without a doubt the most friendly.  

Dr. Bexley collapsed into her comfy office chair.  “Good morning, David!” 

The sneakers came off immediately, just like they always did after her runs, and David could already feel the heat trapped now free from the chamber of her kicks radiating out in all directions.  “Words of wisdom: If you’re going to go for a morning run with Katie Walker, make sure that you’re hydrated the night before!” Dr. Bexley took a long sip of water and gestured down toward her chest, demonstrating her breasts under heavy compression.  They were significantly flattened which reduced their outward prominence, but not without the consequence of them enlarging out toward her armpits. “...and definitely wear a sports bra!”

He would have loved to speak to her but due to his miniature size, all he could do was wait for her to review the message he’d spent the entire evening preparing for her.  

Instead of immediately checking her computer screen to see if David had typed a message, Dr. Bexley deemed it more important to get changed out of her athletic attire.  She set her off-white running sneakers under her desk, atop David’s cage.  As much as his demotion from ‘top of desk’ to ‘under desk’ bothered him, at least it wasn’t his fault. A few days earlier, the cleaning staff came through.  She had her headphones in, talking to someone on the phone as she cleaned.  He had no idea how to speak Spanish, but he remembered hearing the word “Chiquito” a lot, whatever the hell that meant. Their closest thing to a ‘close call’ was when the mature cleaning woman leaned down to peer into the cage.  David felt her brown eyes right on his naked body, but he was so small she just assumed he was a speck–some innocuous particle of no interest.  Still, it was too close a call for Doctors Walker and Bexley.  They apparently still had so much more they wanted to understand about what happened to David. And David was going along with it, left to hope–perhaps naively–that a restoration and maybe even a job offer was waiting at the end of this.  Anyway, after that day, David had spent his “off-time” out of experiments tucked away and hidden underneath Dr. Bexley’s desk.  

He watched as she peeled her damp white socks off her feet, wiggling her massive, purple-painted toes into the fibers of the carpet.  The socks found a temporary home, stuffed into the running sneakers that hung in the heavens over David’s head. She was up again, this time grabbing clothing from a duffel bag.  The jostling of her desk and chair sent otherworldly vibrations through David’s confinement container–something that a person of that size would have no idea about.  It was just enough to knock one of her keds over onto its side.  The absurdity of this Rube Goldberg-type scenario unfolded right before his eyes as he watched one of Dr. Bexley’s soaking wet socks loosen from the tipped shoe and plummet down.

He stared up and sighed, “Why wouldn’t it be coming down right on top of–”

Splat!

The aroma of her productivity and efforts overpowered David’s senses. How could someone so cute make a sock smell like this?!  He never thought he’d say it, but David found within him now a strong appreciation for the scent of Dr. Becotte’s.  David spent more time than he’d like to admit trying to navigate his way out of the folded wrinkles and creases of Dr. Bexley’s well worn sock. It was as if he were encased in an avalanche of snow, only the snow was off white and soaking wet cotton.  He didn’t know which way was up and it wasn’t until David reached a dead end, where the aroma was the strongest, did he realize he’d picked the wrong way and traveled deeper into the sock.  

“Figures…” David said out loud, and immediately regretted it.  The scent of Dr. Bexley’s well-exercised foot remained there around him like a pervasive ghost haunting a manor, but when he opened his mouth to speak, he felt that ghost tickle his tongue.  He had to get out of here but it wouldn’t be easy.  He was as deep as he –or Dr. Bexley’s foot for that matter–could go.  His ascent from the sock was arduous as he clung to individual strands of sock fibers.  No one but he could notice just how saturated in sweat they were, but somehow it helped improve his grip.  Occupying the toe section of a well-worn pair of socks was never something David pictured gracing his list of experiences and he couldn’t say he was happy to add it. He was thrilled to burrow out the other way, determined to get as far away as possible from where Dr. Bexley’s toes usually lived.

David’s relationship with Dr. Bexley was a complicated one now, for sure….and as much as he resented her for what happened, he would have loved to watch her change.  It would have been the cherry on top.  On top of a terrible, disgusting cake, of course–but a cherry nonetheless!  Unfortunately, by the time David emerged from the crinkled mouth of Dr. Bexley’s sock, accomplished by more falling than deliberate descent, all he could see were the tops of her bare knees.  Her mint shorts lay in a heap around her feet, toes wiggling as if to tease him for visiting their home.  The baseball tee was also strewn on the office floor, relieved of its incredible duty. David’s heart dropped as he watched a dark pair of nylons slide up her bare legs.  He allowed lustful hypnosis to overtake him like a tsunamic wave as her supple bare thighs jiggled with each movement. A skirt appeared next and then her nylon-clad feet wiggled into a pair of flats. The same pair of flats she’d left there the night before, leaning far too close to his cage.  Adding insult to injury, a moist towel fluttered out of the doctor’s hand, draping down over his cage like a blanket, pumping her homemade humidity into his confinement container and into his lungs.

‘Finally…’ David thought as Dr. Bexley took a seat in her chair, scooting forward.  He waited with bated breath as he heard the familiar sound of her computer monitor turning on and then it was quiet for a few moments as she read the message David had left.  

“Really, David?” Dr. Bexley groaned.  “You can’t be serious.”

David stared up at Dr. Bexley, who wasn’t even looking down at him. She was just looking at her computer screen in disbelief…it almost sounded like she was angry.  He wished she’d actually look down and see what he was forced to put up with in the form of her damp sock

“I’m with you on Dramamine but Interstate 8? That’s not even a GOOD Modest Mouse song…let alone a Top 3!  It tries way too hard to be weird.”

David rolled his eyes. He wanted to argue.  He wanted to plead his case.  He wanted to convince her.

But Dr. Bexley had adjusted her position at her desk. Now he couldn’t even see her face, his view restricted once more to her feet, legs, and the lower portion of her stomach as she clacked at the keys.

It was difficult to have a debate about the best song, best movie, or best actor and actress when your debate partner could so easily shut down the conversation by not being able to hear you.  Why did he spend all weekend trying to think of counter arguments when any debate was an auto-loss for him?

“I just have to catch up on some emails from over the weekend and then we’ll get started.  Dr. Walker and I were discussing a test we’d like to run on you this morning, and we’ll start in about an hour, okay?”

She didn’t listen for a response, nor could she.  She just continued working, leaving David to do what he’d done best since starting this perverted twist of ‘employment’:  sit and wait. Dr. Bexley was a busy woman with many people fighting for her attention. It would have been silly to think that David, at 1/32” was entitled to anything more than what she’d graciously bestowed upon him already this morning.  Conversely, his attention was valueless…and it wasn’t even his to bestow. By default, it went to the only place it could.  

His attention went to Dr. Bexley’s feet.

To Dr. Bexley’s legs.

To Dr. Bexley’s stomach.

He treasured the moments when she’d lean back in her chair, just enough for him to see the undersides of her large breasts, made to look that much larger on her short frame. She changed out of her sports bra, probably while he was forced to smell her feet, and now her massive breasts celebrated the relative upgrade in freedom by taking on their own distinct shapes instead of mashing together. The shadows underneath…so deep and contrasting.  They could have blocked out the sun as far as he was concerned. The first day of his confinement in her office, she’d leaned over to access a filing cabinet and in doing so, gave David the largest eyeful of cleavage that he’d ever seen in his life.  

What on earth was a girl as short and adorable as Dr. Bexley doing with so much boob?!  They were definitely real. He’d observed them in motion long enough to know for sure.  David was sure he’d regret the fantasy becoming a reality, especially considering just how possible it was, but his mind fantasized against his will, wondering what it’d be like to dive into that deep, dark chasm.  The most exciting moment came three days ago.  A persistent itch between her breasts ripped Dr. Bexley’s focus from her computer and David gawked like he was observing a modern masterpiece, watching those heavy, world-sized tits rock against each other.

Speaking of rocking, David was rocked out of his dazed touring of Dr. Bexley’s lower body by two sharp knocks on the door. 

~

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