The Shrink, Chapter 4

Hey guys, I hope you're all doing well! I'm sorry that there's been a few weeks in between updates. This has unfortunately been another turbulent, difficult month in my personal life and it's been very hard for me to focus my mind on writing. But I'm still aiming to get a bunch of new chapters and short stories posted before the end of the month - my goal is still to get all my July updates finished in time. You guys have been very sweet and patient with me, and I'm looking forward to showing you what I've been working on <3 <3 <3

Chapter 4

Later on that night, James lay in his bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. His head was spinning with the events of the evening, and, in a way, he was grateful for this moment of calm and stillness that allowed him to actually process what had just happened. Brooke had essentially…well…taken him out to dinner. James had to chuckle at himself, thinking back to earlier in the day, when he had been stressing about how exactly he was going to ask Brooke to lunch, once it had become clear that she was hitting on him…hard. But it turned out, true to Brooke’s form, that James didn’t have to make the first move – she had been the one to ask him out...and right in the middle of being hit on by some gym stud! Her confidence had been striking; she hadn’t even “asked” him out. She had just announced to the guy, straight-up, that she was going to dinner later, with James.

‘Heh that’s just…that’s just Brooke’s style,’ James thought to himself, smiling up at the ceiling in his bed. ‘She doesn’t really beat around the bush.’

Dinner had been a lovely affair, and, somehow, strangely casual and relaxing. James would never have thought that he could have been so easygoing on a “first date” like this one, particularly a statuesque bombshell like Brooke, who, in her 6-inch platform heels, stood at nearly 6’11, nearly two whole feet taller than his 5’0. He had been eye-level with the middle of her stomach as she led him in, arm-in-arm, making sure to walk slowly so that he could keep up with her. That bright silver dress she had been wearing…and the way it matched with those blood-red platform heels and the long, elegant, voluminous spill of her wavy blond hair…James had made sure to dress up smart in his khakis and a nice shirt with a collar, but he couldn’t help but feel utterly outclassed and outmatched by Brooke. She looked stunningly, almost fearsomely gorgeous. But she was so relaxed, and so happy, and so effortlessly natural in her conversation with him, that James had soon forgotten that Brooke was “out of his league.” It was obvious that she liked him, so if she felt that way, that was good enough for him!

They had spent the time chatting animatedly, cracking jokes, talking about James’s job, and Brooke’s classes, and her volleyball, and even some about James’s condition. Brooke was careful to show the appropriate amount of concern and respect for the difficulty he was in, considering his recent hupostolephasia diagnosis, but by the end of the night, it had become clear to both of them that, despite the condition’s seriousness, they felt a kind of strange attraction to their size difference.

For one thing, several times during dinner, Brooke had actually made a point to compare herself to James. One time, in the middle of their conversation, she had simply reached her huge hands across the table, taken James’s hands up, and compared the size of her palms to his. The difference had been staggering, with her fingers rising at least 2 full inches above his…and she had made a point to hold the comparison like that for a few seconds, as her eyes sparkled down on him with delight. Staring up at his bedroom ceiling now, James could still hear her sexy, deep feminine voice:

“Oh my god…James…just look at that! Hahaha oh wowwwww…look at how much bigger my hands are! And, haha, not just my hands – look at how tiny your forearm is compared to mine!”

Brooke had seemed to take a special pleasure in these comparisons, and, far from putting him down or making him feel bad about his small stature, James felt strangely invigorated by her particular attention. There was nothing negative about the way she was comparing herself to him – no, it was more like…a way of expressing tenderness for him, a way for her to communicate that she was paying attention to his body…and that she liked what she saw. For James, it went without saying that he liked what HE saw. And Brooke knew it too. One time, right before dinner was over, she caught his eyes traveling down to her huge ass, which easily covered her seat, and then some, actually spilling over the edge on both sides.

“You ogling my ass?” she had teased him, winking playfully, before extending her hand and giving her left butt cheek and almighty smack. Several people in the restaurant had turned to look, but Brooke couldn’t have cared less; she had just been trying to get a playful rise out of James, and she had succeeded – his mouth had dropped open when he saw the massive ass cheek shaking and jiggling in response to the smack…the rippling movement made her ass look even huger.

“Uhh…y-yeah,” James had laughed, shaking his head as he stared down at her ass shamelessly, “I was…and now I REALLY am.”

Lying in his bed, James remembered how Brooke had leaned back and laughed, a deep, musical, playful laugh, a laugh that communicated that she didn’t care who was watching them or what they thought – the only thing that mattered was that she and James were enjoying each other.

“I can’t remember…” James suddenly muttered aloud to himself in his bedroom, his eyes still staging up at the ceiling, “When I’ve ever felt this…natural…with someone. And to think…she’s a freaking college student…who was one of my clients! Goodness gracious.”

He had told Brooke that if they were going to keep seeing each other, then he couldn’t see her in a professional capacity anymore, for obvious ethical reasons.

“Well…” Brooke had smiled down at him, standing outside her dorm room, right before James dropped her off at the end of the night, “That’s fine…as long as you promise to still lend an ear of comfort when I’m crumbling under the pressure of my craaaaaazy college life.”

“Of course, Brooke!” he had laughed. “I…I mean, I’ll…I’ll always be there to lend an ear. Whenever you need. That is…uhm…”

He had suddenly started blushing. It wasn’t like James to get this nervous – he never really had trouble with confidence, but something about standing there next to this gorgeous, vivacious, brilliant young woman, after a wonderful date, staring slightly UP at her breasts as she loomed over him…it had all hit James at once, and it had suddenly occurred to him that maybe she had wanted him to kiss her before she went into her dorm. But Brooke, smirking down warmly at him, had seemed to know exactly what to do.

“That’s all I needed to hear, James,” she had breathed down at him, snaking her huge hand around his chin, directing his face up as she had gracefully bent slowly down, parted her lips, and planted the most luscious kiss on his lips that he had ever experienced in his life. And she hadn’t broken away from it quickly, either – for several long, voluptuous seconds, she had held the kiss, softly, tenderly massaging her plush lips into his, easily dominating his mouth, but in a curiously delicate way that wasn’t overbearing, but still unquestionably dominant. When she had finally parted and stood back up to her full height, James’s eyes were practically fluttering as he stood there, completely enveloped in her towering shadow, intoxicated by her in every way.

“Goodnight James,” she had smiled warmly down at him, “And…you’re gonna come to my game tomorrow?”

“Of course I am,” James grinned, recovering himself enough to answer. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else! I’m so excited to see you play!”

“Well I’ll make sure to reserve a seat in the front row for you,” she winked down at him, turning to leave. “Just so you can get a nice up-close view of me.”

And with that, she had turned and sauntered into her dorm, with James gaping at her thick, sexy legs, her swerving hips, and her bouncing ass that quivered and shook with each step she took.

“Jesus, James…” he muttered again out loud to himself, later on in his bedroom, as he finally turned to the side and closed his eyes, “What’ve you gotten yourself into? Can you handle her!?”

James had been so excited and aroused all day long that now, at the end of the day, he was totally exhausted. As often happens with new romances, however, he found that it was difficult to fall asleep. Images of Brooke’s warm, smiling, gorgeous face kept popping up in his mind, bigger and bigger; he thought over and over about how huge her hands had been compared to his, about how massive her wrist and forearm were…both lengthwise and just in general thickness. He thought about her long, strong legs, her big breasts, and, of course, her gigantic ass. Her deep, feminine voice, somehow light, chatty, and girlish while being profoundly sexy and erotic, kept echoing in his ears. She was double-majoring in nutrition science and biology, with a minor in French…taking seven classes a semester…good grief and that wasn’t even considering that she was captain of the Raging Bulls volleyball team, which was top 5 in the national rankings…the game tomorrow…James actually started getting nervous – he really wanted her to do well! He had never been to a sports event at Lowland University, even though he had been a counselor at the college for years. But he knew enough to understand the enormous amount of pressure placed on the team, and on Brooke in particular. She had her own ESPN profile, with dozens of articles written about her. And somehow, in the midst of all her classes, in the middle of the huge NCAA tournament, she had decided to start dating this little 5’0 man who had this bizarre shrinking virus. In a matter of months, or maybe even weeks, he would probably be 4’9, or even 4’6 if the disease progressed quickly.

In the dark of his bedroom, all these thoughts coalesced in James’s mind, beginning to swirl in on themselves. Even though he was a trainer counselor and therapist, he could feel himself beginning to get overwhelmed with everything. It was easy, in the midst of all the craziness, to concoct a narrative in which Brooke gradually lost interest in him as he got smaller and smaller.

‘I mean, just think about it,’ he thought to himself, turning over on his pillow, ‘She’s basically a 6’5 bombshell…star athlete, obviously brilliant…she can get anyone she wants. So why me!?’

But even as he noticed this negative, nagging voice in his head, James just kept coming back to Brooke’s beautiful face, and the way she smiled at him. And as a more mature man who had been through several long-term relationships, he found that it actually wasn’t too hard to brush off that naysaying voice. Brooke was so warm, so…genuine. If he really thought about how she behaved around him, James couldn’t even pretend to doubt her affection. For someone who was only 20 years old, it was almost unbelievable how mature and self-assured she was. Even though he was twice her age, there was no doubt as to who was “leading the dynamic,” who was dominant.

‘She already liked me a lot,’ James thought, finally beginning to feel himself slipping towards sleep, ‘But when she learned I had the shrinking condition, instead of it turning her off to me, it kind of…well…yeah! Turned her on. Even more. And I’m just going to be getting smaller, and at dinner, the look on her face…like, she was concerned yes, but there was also something else there in her eyes. An excitement. She’s going to look so huge. My god, what’s it going to be like around her when I…when I shrink all the way down under four feet and…and…’

But his thoughts had been softly swept away in a river of forgetfulness as James finally drifted off to sleep. His dreams were full of dark, foreboding shapes condescending around him, constricting him, filling him with a sense of anxiety, and even dread…but at some point, he had realized the presence of something far off on the horizon, an immense shape…a feminine presence, and a warm glow emanated from her, dispelling all the shapes crushing in on him and filling him with a tender warmth. He had tried to look up at her, whoever it was, but she had become so radiant, like the sun, that he had to turn away. And then, in his ears, like huge golden bells, rang the sound of deep, female laughter.

James woke up feeling slightly groggy, which had become the norm ever since his condition had manifested. The sunlight was already streaming in through his blinds…Saturday…when he didn’t need to set an alarm. He lay in bed for a few minutes, the sound of that huge, feminine laughter still ringing in his head; there was no doubt where it came from, who it was.

“I’m going to her volleyball game today,” James spoke out loud to the ceiling, chuckling and shaking his head to himself. He could still hardly believe that all of this was happening. Everything had moved so fast. But he had to remind himself that the whole “relationship,” if he could even call it that yet, was still in its infancy. He just needed to take each day as it came, and not let it totally dominate his thoughts. And so the first thing in his routine was…measuring himself, per doctor’s orders. Standing up against the height chart a minute later, James felt a bit of a throb go through him when he turned around to see that he was now 4’11. So it was official – he was under 5’0 tall, maybe forever. But strangely, despite the obvious distress that this new measurement should have caused him, the only thing he could really think about was that Brooke was going to look one inch taller to him. And far from being insecure or unhappy about that, he found himself feeling excited.

Brooke’s game was at 2 in the afternoon, so James had plenty of time to shower and eat a late breakfast before heading down to the volleyball court, which was in the indoor arena in the middle of campus. Feeling a bit silly, James had made sure to dress himself up a bit, and to “spritz” himself with some cologne, even though he knew that, in all likelihood, Brooke wouldn’t even have time to talk to him. But he wanted to look good for her, despite the fact that his khakis and polo shirt were noticeably looser on his slight frame.

‘Brooke won’t care,’ James reminded himself as he looked up and down his figure in the mirror. ‘She’ll probably actually think it’s cute.’

About half an hour later, James was walking into the arena, and even before he had gone inside, he had felt himself starting to get nervous. He hadn’t quite realized how big of a deal the Lowland University Raging Bulls volleyball team actually were; he had known that they were ranked within the “Top 5” in the nation, but he had never actually been to a game before, to witness what that prestige meant. He could see it all now. Hundreds of people were tailgating outside the arena, with popped-up canopy tents dotted all about. There was so much energy in the air – people were laughing, drinking, playing beer pong, and animatedly discussing the upcoming match. Pregame coverage blared out on dozens of portable radios, and more than once James caught the mention of “Brooke Hinson,” which of course made his ears perk up. Her name was thrown around by the announcers more often than anyone else’s, and actually…as James looked around…he realized that a number of people were wearing their replica volleyball shirts in support of the team. Some had the name “Rodriguez” plastered across the back, a few had “Gable,” and a few others had “Mitchell.” But by far the most common jersey name that James saw was “Hinson.” By the time he walked into the arena, and saw the thousands of people who were already filling the arena seats, chanting the team’s songs, he felt perceptively anxious.

‘She’s a star,’ he thought to himself, staring around in amazement as he watched the arena fill up, and felt it pulsating more and more with expectant energy. ‘She’s like…big time…who the hell am I to be sitting courtside for her?’

James knew that these kinds of thoughts were just insecure naysayings, and so he tried to put them out of his head. After all, Brooke had chosen to reserve him a seat, right? Speaking of which…how did that work, again? He felt his heart beating a bit quicker as he walked up closer to the court, sidestepped the Raging Bulls mascot (who was also wearing a “Hinson” jersey, and was on a ladder, doing an impression of one of Brooke’s spikes over the net), before an official-looking woman with an earpiece came striding up to him. She wasn’t that tall, around 5’8…but to James, she looked quite big.

“This is the courtside exclusive area, sir,” she said, not quite rude, but certainly with an edge to her delivery. “Unless you have a seat reserved I’m gonna have to ask you to keep it moving.”

“Oh…oh yes, I’m sorry,” James replied, smiling sheepishly, digging into his pocket for his phone, and then pulling up the e-ticket Brooke had sent him. “Just kinda…you know, a bit overwhelmed with the energy of this place.”

“Mhm, it certainly gets rowdy,” the woman said, leaning down to examine his ticket (which included the words “Hinson VIP”). She blinked and looked James up and down for a moment, almost as if she was now realizing that he was, in fact, a well-dressed middle-aged man.

“Hinson VIP,” she said, nodding as her eyebrows went up. “Best seat in the house. You ever been to one of these before?”

“No, it’s my first time!” laughed James.

“Well, you’re in for a treat today,” the woman declared, her serious-looking face breaking into something of a grin. It was almost like she had realized what was going on…had Brooke mentioned him to her?

“Here sir, let me escort you to your seat,” the woman said, beckoning him to follow her. Less than a minute later, James was sitting in his reserved courtside seat, his feet swinging a little in the air, feeling decidedly nervous as he realized just how close he was going to be to all the action. He was…right there. The court’s touchline was no more than six feet away. And all around him, the seats were filling up more and more, with people getting louder and louder, as the expectant tension built up inside the arena. James had to laugh at himself a little for how anxious he was, for Brooke, mainly…just imagining how much pressure she must have been feeling at this moment. It was one thing for her to talk to him about the demands of being on a “Top 5” NCAA volleyball team – it was quite another for him to witness firsthand the craziness of an actual game environment. James found himself thanking the stars that he never had to work under this kind of pressure; he felt like it was enough to break him.

And, just then, the away team was announced (the “Mountain State Golden Eagles”) came jogging out onto the court, to pronounced boos from the crowd. The young women lined up on the touchline as their names were called, and even though they were on the other side of the court, James could see how tall they were. The tallest one, according to the stats on the big arena screen, was 6’7, more than 2 inches taller than Brooke – but unlike Brooke, she was quite skinny.

A minute later, the announcer ramped up his voice and introduced the Raging Bulls team, and the noise in the arena rose to a steady, roaring din as the home team ran out onto the court, except this time, it was one by one, with each girl running through a tunnel of her teammates before standing on the touchline right in front of James. They were…quite large, with many of the girls well over 6 feet tall. Even the ones around 5’6 or 5’7 looked strong and well-built, the smallest of them easily outweighing James by 40 or 50 pounds.

After the first six girls were announced, James realized that Brooke’s was probably going to be the last name called. Everything seemed to be building up to her, and when the announcer exclaimed “Brrrrrrrrroooooooke…Hiiiiiiiiiinnnnnsoooooonnnnnnn!”, the noise in the arena rose to hitherto unprecedented levels. James found himself standing up and clapping energetically along with everyone else, but when he saw Brooke run through the tunnel of her teammates and out onto the court, he felt himself go slack-jawed. This was the first time he had ever seen her decked out in her red and black volleyball uniform, and the effect was striking. All the girls on the court were obviously athletes, and obviously in fantastic shape. But even though James was no athletic expert himself, he could tell that there was something different about Brooke.

To begin with, she was one of the taller ones on the court, with only two or three players standing higher than her…and even then, not by much. But Brooke was just…bigger…bigger than everyone out there. Her legs were thicker, her arms looked bigger and stronger, and her ass put the rest to shame. And since many of the other players had smaller breasts, Brooke’s huge rack stood out even more. Her uniform was so tight that it almost looked like her glorious body was about ready to burst straight out at any moment, making it so that every movement she made came with an eye-popping, fleshy bounce and jiggle all around. And as the cherry on top, in a fashion choice that made James unexpectedly even more enthralled, Brooke had braided her long spill of blond hair into cornrows, which lent an aggressive sharpness, an edginess, to her appearance.

‘She’s so huge,’ thought James, as she jogged towards him, clapping her hands to the crowd, soaking up their energy. ‘So…fierce!’

It was remarkable how confident she looked, how energetic and assured in her movements, and James could tell, even from a distance, that for Brooke, the 20,000 people inside the arena were nothing to be afraid of – instead, they were a weapon…a weapon she was going to wield against the other team. Before joining her teammates on the touchline, she went to the center of the court and did a few slow turns, hyping up the crowd with her arms, and they responded instantly, yelling and cheering even louder. After the noise levels had reached her desired levels, Brooke nodded, smirking, and strode over to the touchline, joining her teammates right at the end of the line. At first, James thought that there was no way that Brooke was going to acknowledge him in the midst of such a crucible of noise and lights, but he felt his heart jump into his mouth when Brooke looked directly at him, sticking her tongue out to the side in between her teeth as her smile widened, and pointed straight at his chest. James managed a little smiling wave, which Brooke returned with a very slow and deliberate kiss, which she blew in his direction. A couple of her teammates turned and looked back at him, obviously intrigued, and when they saw him, they bent their heads together, talking amongst themselves and looking back at him a few more times. But it was difficult for James to pay attention to anyone else but Brooke, as she strode straight up to the touchline, six feet away from him, and turned her back, joining her teammates for the national anthem.

James was certain that it was no coincidence that he found himself staring right into the middle of the number “5” on Brooke’s back, with the white “Hinson” sprawled out more than half-a-foot above his eyeline. She had to have known exactly where he’d be sitting. This is what she wanted – to treat him to a prolonged view of her backside, right in front of a packed arena, while she stood there, towering over him. When the national anthem was over, Brooke huddled up with her team, giving them an animated pep talk before starting the team cheer that broke out with a resounding “BULLS!” The substitutes went over to the bench, and Brooke, who was taking the first serve, walked over toward James, gesturing to the referee, who was about to climb the stand in front of the net, for the ball. The referee looked to be an average-sized man, around 5’9 or so, and the black and red ball had looked normal in his hands. But when Brooke caught it, the ball suddenly looked a lot smaller. Standing close to James, she palmed the ball effortlessly, her huge hand easily covering half the ball’s surface area, as the crowd cheered her on behind him. Clearly this was all part of her pre-game routine, designed to further energize the crowd. James was watching her, admiring her charisma, and he was suddenly shocked when, in the midst of all this, Brooke stepped up to him and bent down low, so that her face was only a foot or so away from his.

“You like my necklace?” she asked, her voice somehow rising up over the raucous sound of the arena. James hadn’t noticed it before, but his eyes were now drawn to something gold and glinty dangling between her breasts. There was a little trinket on it, and James felt his mouth open as he realized what it was: a little man…a tiny little golden man.

“Y-yeah…” James breathed up at her, nodding. “Yeah…I like it.”

“Mmmm it’s you,” Brooke grinned, tickling the underside of the “man’s” feet with her fingers, making him bounce around in midair, before straightening back up to her full height, still palming the ball. “Get comfortable, James. I’m gonna put on a show for you.”