Is This What You Really Want? Ch. 08

"Oh but come on!" he could hear her protest. She didn't budge from her seat, and he started to struggle desperately against her butt to breathe. He may as well have been trying to push a boulder off his body. She wasn't budging an inch. "He's not even sitting down! This is musical chairs, not musical beds!"

"She's got a point, you know, Clare," Timothy could barely hear Katie chime in brightly. He fought more and more desperately, but Beatrice wasn't moving.

"Well, it's not Timmy's fault if a normal chair is the size of a bed to him," said Clare, chuckling. "And anyway, I didn't think he had it in him, to actually get into one of those chairs. So I'm rewarding his effort and hard work by maintaining that, once again, you're out Beatrice!"

"Oh he is going to pay for this," she hissed, and she kept her ass on his body for a few more moments, as if to emphasize once again how minuscule he was compared to her. She finally stood up abruptly, and Timothy gasped for air, positively gulping it down, not caring how he looked to the rest of the guests. He didn't have time to catch his breath for long, though, because Beatrice had taken a fistfull of his shirt and had pulled him up to her face, smiling at him darkly.

"Better be glad I'm having a good time, little pipsqueak," she growled down at him threateningly. "Or else I'd punish you right here in front of everyone else. Just know it's coming, little guy...it's coming." She released him and stomped out of the circle, snatching away one of the foot-high stools in the process.

"Oh, you read my mind, Beatrice," said Clare merrily, "I was just going to say that I think we need to stop giving little Timmy here so many advantages. I mean, he might actually win this game otherwise."

"Oh, the little shit," said Beatrice quietly, the danger oozing from her voice as she stood next to Clare, "he thinks that he can go against me, does he? Well we'll see about that when we get home."

"Oh Beatrice, it's only a game!" said Patricia good-naturedly, who felt the dark energy of Beatrice's anger and, despite not particularly caring for Timothy, felt a little afraid for him.

"Ok everyone, go!" called Clare, turning on the music again, enjoying watching Timothy as he tried to keep up with a buxom blond in front of him, with Katie dancing and shaking her curves flirtatiously behind him. Clare couldn't help but smile.

"Oh but don't you see, Trish," said Clare, turning to Patricia, "it isn't just a game for her. Beatrice doesn't have an "off" switch, don't you see? She's in a dynamic with Timmy...like, a 24-hour type thing."

"A...dynamic?" asked Patricia, momentarily puzzled.

"Yeah, a dynamic — isn't that right, Beatrice? You're dominant and he's submissive, like...all the time, right? There's never a time when you too are...just...equal, right? Approaching each other as equals?"

Beatrice smiled a not-too-pleasant smile and looked out at the game, watching as Timothy was almost run over by a joyously dancing Katie. "Well...I mean, I'm not opposed to the idea of equality in a relationship, but...well...look at him. How could I possibly feel like that was equal with me?"

"You see her point, Trish?" asked Clare, laughing.

"So...you're dominant over him all the time?"

"All the time," repeated Beatrice, nodding her head. "I mean, how could I not be? The little shit hangs on my every waking breath. I can make him hard just by looking at him...I can make him cum just by breathing a certain way."

"Wow...really?" asked Patricia. The blatantly sexual nature of Beatrice's words did not seem to faze either of the two women, although Beatrice noticed that Charles, Clare's CEO husband, had given her an odd look when she mentioned "cumming." She shot him back a flashing look that was so aggressively intimidating, so full of confidence, that he actually slunk away from the group. In contrast to Clare's husband, Patricia was staring at Beatrice with a look of admiration on her face.

"Yeah, so it just follows along logically that I make all the rules," continued Beatrice as she watched with satisfaction as Timothy kept looking over his shoulder fearfully at Katie, who was sticking out her tongue at him and making fake roaring noises as she danced along behind him. "And like the little sub that he is, Timmy follows them...except, well, tonight something crazy got into him and he thought he could get away with making me lose. He'll be thinking differently later on." She stared intently at Timothy for another moment before she burst out laughing. "But thankfully I'm having a great time with you all — it's been lovely to meet you!"

"Well we're all pleased to meet you as well, Beatrice," said Clare happily. "The more women can meet each other and become friends, independent of their husbands, the better."

"Here, here!" agreed Patricia.

"Stop!" called Clare suddenly, halting the music. Everyone still playing rushed around to find a seat. Once again, Timothy as lucky and found himself right in front of one of the child-sized chairs when the music stopped. With a pleased sigh of relief he quickly sat himself down, enjoying how his body actually seemed to fit into this chair. He looked around and saw that the only other man who was playing was the only one without a seat, and was forced to leave, obeying Clare and taking the last stool with him. Timothy took a deep breath. It was going to be harder than ever to win now, but at least he had a few smaller seats still in the circle that worked to his advantage. He didn't know why he was so intent on winning a meaningless game of musical chairs, but if he had thought harder he would have realized that he was trying to salvage some kind of desperate pride. Beatrice and the girls had been beating him down all night, and he wanted to show that he was still worth something.

"Found the perfect chair, huh Timmy? I didn't get so lucky this time." Katie's musical voice teased at him, and he looked to his right. She was sitting in one of the child-sized chairs, identical to the one he was sitting in, except that the effect was absolutely comical. She was so huge that Timothy couldn't even see the chair she was sitting in. Her massive ass and the hulking curves of her hips completely obfuscated it. Her knees were bent up in a crouch, giving everyone a free look almost all the way up her gloriously think thighs. It almost looked like she was just sitting on the ground. Timothy couldn't believe it — she was sitting in the same exact chair that his was.

"Wow, Katie — guess you had to improvise this round, huh?" laughed Clare.

"Yeah for a minute there I had to pretend like I was Timmy," said Katie, laughing herself.

"Well, now you know what it's like," chuckled Ashley, who was sitting in one of the adult-sized chairs. "Except I think your ass takes up a little more room than his does."

"You think?" asked Katie sardonically. She turned to Timothy. "You know what I think? I think my ass is bigger than your entire body put together. What do you think, Timmy?"

"I...I...don't know," he said in a trembling voice, knowing full well that Katie was right.

"Oh it's not even close," said Beatrice. "Kate, I must say, your ass is one of the most impressive things I've ever seen."

"Oh wow!" beamed Katie, still from her siting position, "that means a lot coming from you, Beatrice! I mean...look at you!"

"Oh please — look at all of us!" said Beatrice, spreading her arms wide and speaking loudly enough to address the whole room. "All the women here are so fucking hot! I've never seen such a glamorous gathering of women...with such listless, boring...short men." The room erupted into an appreciative roar of female laughter. Objectively, looking around the room, it was plain to see that Beatrice was right. All the women were taller than all the men. And most of them were a good deal taller...by an entire foot in some cases. In particular, Clare, Ashley, Patricia, and Katie, together with Beatrice, stood the tallest. And they were all so beautiful, so curvy, so ravishing, so full of life. Every woman seemed to carry an impressive amount of luscious, female weight, and every one of them seemed to carry it effortlessly. As he sat there in his little kid's chair, Timothy's mind was blown. He was literally overwhelmed by the sheer force of all this female size and power around him. And despite the fact that he felt he had lost control of his shrinking, that he was regretting wishing for a dominant girlfriend, that he was lamenting his overall lack of power to make his own life choices, he could not suppress an audible sigh of pleasure as he closed his eyes for a moment, soaking in the true delight of being in the presence of so many huge, tall, dominant, confident, and powerful women.

*CRACK*

His eyes shot open in alarm as he heard something breaking, and looked over to his right to see that Katie actually was sitting on the floor now, with her mouth hanging open in mock surprise. The broken shards of the chair she had been sitting on now littered the floor.

"Ooops!" she said, putting a big manicured hand over her mouth. Her curves were shaking in laughter, and pretty soon everyone else was joining in, laughing at what had just happened.

"Well, I guess you took care of that chair, Katie," laughed Clare. "And now we're down to our final three contestants! Ashley, Katie, and little Timmy. We have one child chair and one adult chair. Who's going to take the prize?!" After instructing one of the male servants to clean up the shard of broken chair, Clare put the music back on. After about half a minute she stopped it, and it became clear to everyone what was happening. Ashley didn't even have a chance this time. Katie was right in front of the adult chair, and Timmy was right in front of the kid's chair; Ashley had nowhere to go. It was obvious — Clare was making sure that Timothy stayed in the game, just so that she, Beatrice, and everyone else could keep having fun watching him struggle to keep up. Ashley looked over at Clare and smiled as she pointed an accusatory finger in her direction. Clare arched her eyebrow in response, shaking her head as she smiled.

"Well what do you think, Beatrice?" she asked. "Take away the kid's chair or the adult chair?"

"Timmy's been given way too much preferential treatment," responded Beatrice immediately. "Take away the kid's chair — this is an adult party, after all. If Timmy think he can play with the adults in the room let's see him try."

"Can't argue with that," said Clare.

A few moments later Timothy and Katie were circling the single chair as the music played one final time. Katie was looking down at him, teasing as she made faces down at him. To an outside observer, it really did look like a mother or a big sister was chasing her son or little brother around a chair. Timothy tried to meet her glance with confidence, but it was impossible. When he did manage to look up into Katie's eyes, he did so with fear and trepidation. He was beyond intimidated by her presence. Why was he having this reaction to Katie?! It made sense in his head why he would feel this way in Beatrice's presence, because she had real power over him, and could make him do whatever she wanted. But surely Katie didn't have this power too...right!? Surely if she tried to do anything to him, Beatrice would stop her, right!? As he circled the chair with her, feeling more and more like he was the prey of a tigress, he had a dark realization: he had no idea what Beatrice would let other people do to him. He really didn't know — he had thought, when he made his wish to Maia, that his microphiliac girlfriend would protect him, nurture him, keep him safe...but now, looking up at Katie's hungry eyes and then glancing nervously over at Beatrice (whose nostrils were dilated in excitement as she watched the end of the game), he became suddenly aware of something that scared him: he did not feel safe. At all. He couldn't trust Beatrice to protect him. He didn't know what was going to happen.

"Stop!!" called Clare, a little more dramatically since it was the last time. Timothy's skin came to attention as he realized that he was the closest to the opening of the seat. This was it! He was going to do it — he was going to win! He made a scampering, running leap for the seat. He didn't care that he probably looked ridiculous to everyone else at the party — he didn't care that it was obvious that he cared way too much (far more than any self-respecting adult would) about the outcome of this game. He had one goal in mind — to prove them all wrong. To show that even though he knew they were playing with him, he could beat them at their own game.

But as he sailed through the air towards his cushioned salvation, he saw something that made his heart go up into his throat. Katie had been standing on the opposite side of the chair, far away from the actual seat. There would have been no way that she could have gotten in the seat before Timothy had she been playing against another adult-sized human. But she wasn't — she was playing against him, and so she had a few extra seconds to decide what to do. And as she watched Timothy take a running start to jump into the seat, she suddenly realized what to do. She stood up to her full height, extended one of her long thick legs, and stepped over the back of the chair. The chair head was almost five feet tall, but being as tall as she was, that didn't stop Katie. She then stepped with her other leg, and from his airborne position, Timothy realized in horror, too late, that Katie had literally stepped over the back of the chair and was now settling her huge ass down comfortably in the chair. There was no chance of redirecting his motion; he was headed straight for her crotch, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. With a plop, he landed in Katie's lap — it felt like he was landing on a bed full of big, soft pillows, except there was a certain firmness...a certain strength, to the plushness of her upper thighs.

"Ooooo look at that, Timmy!" called out Clare ecstatically, as the rest of the women "ooed" and "aaah-ed" as they laughed. "Now the tables are turned, huh? Not quite in time! Ladies and gentlemen...well, mostly ladies...let me introduce you to Katie — our winner!" The room erupted in exaggerated female cheers. Timothy couldn't see all the commotion at first, because he was sprawled out face-first in Katie's lap. He moved to rise up, but with horror he felt Katie's big hand reach down and extend over his back, holding him in place, face-down on her crotch.

"Oh, ladies, ladies, everyone..." he could hear her say in mock-formality, "you're too kind, really! Too kind!" He heard her clear her throat, and once again he struggled, this time a little harder, to rise up. But she held him down without any apparent effort at all.

"I'd like to thank, first of all, Clare for holding this lovely party at her lovely abode — to Clare everyone!"

"To Clare!" came all the female voices. Timothy could only hear a muffled version of all of this, and started flailing his limbs. But Katie reached down her other hand and held his legs in place, easily securing both of his arms behind his back with her other hand. Slowly but surely, she pressed his face down into her crotch.

"And I'd also like to thank my parents, for giving me amazing genes," Katie went on jokingly, as the women joined in on the joke and respectfully applauded. Timothy was really starting to struggle for air now, and cried out. But Katie was pressing him even harder into her snatch, which absorbed every bit of sound he made. He was trying desperately to breathe...attempting to take huge gulps of air. But he could only manage to inhale the stuffy humid air that was emanating from her pussy. His nostrils were filled with her spicy, almost sweet-smelling stench. If he had not been in such a predicament, he would have definitely enjoyed the smell. But he was literally starting to pass out now.

"But most of all," said Katie impressively, "I want to thank little Timmy here. His tiny stature is the real key that made my victory possible." Timothy was now screaming into her lap, his lungs totally empty of air, his limbs all held at bay by Katie's strong hands. He could do absolutely nothing — he couldn't even move his little body, such was Katie's strength. He felt himself drifting down, down, down, into unconsciousness.

"You know," continued Katie above, still addressing the party, "I was shocked a few weeks ago when I realized that Timmy was shrinking. I think we all were, right?" A murmur of assent rose up, with the girls nodding their heads. "But really, in these last few weeks, little Timmy's shrinking has made me realize something that I should have realized a long time ago."

"What's that Katie?" asked Clare.

"That women are the superior beings," said Katie, silently orgasming as she felt Timothy's body go completely limp on her lap. "That we're more intelligent, more beautiful, more creative, more dynamic, more everything."

"Totally agree, Katie," said Clare, nodding her head. "Heck," she continued, "just looking around this party, it seems to me that we women are bigger and stronger than our men as well. Take a gander, ladies! Am I not right?" It was all quite clear — the women were physically bigger, taller, and stronger than the men there. "And to think," continued Clare, "that men are supposed to be the bigger and stronger ones."

"Said who?" asked Beatrice. "That's not what I see. I think, in this day and age, women are finally starting to realize their place in this world — as the natural superiors, the rulers of the species."

"I mean, we literally grow life inside of us," said Patricia, grabbing her huge boobs and squeezing them. "All men do is shoot their gross little sperm in — that's all they do."

"And we can make them squirt it better than they can squirt it themselves," laughed Beatrice.

"There's no contest, really," agreed Ashley quietly, her face blushing a little from the sexual nature of the conversation. "I don't know why we didn't all see it before. We should be the ones in charge."

"Well, let's thank our little Timmy here for helping us all realize," laughed Katie. "To Timmy, everyone!"

"To Timmy!" came the din of strong, powerful, lovely-sounding female voices. But Timothy didn't hear any of it. He had been gently dragged down into unconsciousness during Katie's speech, and was now passed out cold face-down in her lap.

A few minutes later he had come to and was being held in Beatrice's arms like a baby. Katie had handed his unconscious form to Beatrice, with a bit of a contrite look on her face.

"I...I hope you don't mind, Beatrice," she had said, "but...but I just couldn't help myself. He was struggling against me, and...well, I — "

"There's no reason to apologize, Katie," cut in Beatrice, who was smiling as she received the flopping form of her unconscious boyfriend. "Trust me, I completely understand. I was watching what you were doing, and there's not way I was gonna not let you have that."

"Really?" said Katie appreciatively. "Aww, thanks for being so understanding, Beatrice. I would have asked your permission before, but...but it just kind of happened."

"Those are some of the best moments," laughed Beatrice as she draped Timothy's lifeless body over her shoulder and started to smack his back a little to get him to wake up. "The impromptu ones, the ones that aren't planned. They just kind of...happen. And they're like magic."

"Well, it certainly felt like that," said Katie. "Honestly, since Timmy hasn't been at work, I know I've been feeling a certain...withdrawal...from playing with him."

"I think we all have," said Clare, "right, girls?" Ashley and Patricia each nodded as they eyed each other and smiled.