Miss Ellen

To that end, I had cleaned myself out both morning and afternoon every day and graduated through increasing sizes of butt-plugs, trying to make myself as ready as possible.

I dressed myself in the type of clothing I had worn back then, feeling much like a teenager. My face had been breaking out in a little acne lately, and my body hurt like I remembered growing pains had. I was obviously overworking myself, but it couldn't be helped. Serving Miss Ellen gave me a purpose I'd never had before in my life.

I taped a message to the door to the library that read: "Live your dream" and I clicked my earpiece to call Miss Ellen.

"Miss Ellen? Your surprise is finally ready."

"Oooh! I can't wait! Where is it?"

"I have laid out clothing for you on your bed. Once you've dressed, come upstairs to the East wing and look for a sign taped to a door."

When I heard the click signaling she'd terminated the connection, I clicked my earpiece back to standby and settled myself onto one of the many chairs in the room built to comfortably seat a woman two feet taller and much wider than myself.

******

Miss Ellen stepped around bookshelves I'd placed around the doorway in an L-shape. Once you were fully in the room, with sight of the door blocked from view, it really was just like being transported into a high school.

Speakers hidden in the corners of the room played a background noise of murmuring, which I thought was a nice touch to make it seem real.

"Ellen!" I greeted with a smile. It took a lot of effort to not call her 'Miss'. "Fancy seein' ya here. Whatcha up to?"

Miss Ellen blinked and looked around at what I'd done, smoothing down her sweatshirt with an indecipherable expression. "James... what's going on?"

"Ach. Even wit' ya help, me brain still don't like biology, truth. Been tryin' ta catch up, waitin' on me parents. Have a seat, yeah?" It was more difficult to regress to my fragmented dialect than I thought it would be.

Miss Ellen looked down at the paper in her hand, the note from the door, and looked around with new eyes, seeing what the point was. A smile stole onto her face as she sat across from me, and she tucked her hair behind her ear as she'd done back then.

"Look, I'm glad I caught you, James. I wanted to ask you a question."

"Ya can ask me anyting Lassie, truth. Fire away."

"I wanted to know... will you be my boyfriend?" She looked both excited, yet somehow fearful, either thinking I was setting her up for a big fall, or she'd regressed to her high school mindset.

I leaned over the table. "Truth? Nothin'd make me happier. But ya got ta know, Ellen, dat me parents be movin' me all about de earth at de drop of a hat. We won't have much time togedder."

Miss Ellen leaned in as well, and a smirk crept up. "Then we need to seize every moment, don't we? How... adventurous are you feeling right now, James?" Her shoulders shifted and her big tits shook as she worked her hands under the table. I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being slowly lowered.

I grinned at her. "You be talkin' to a world traveler, Girly. Adventure my middle name!"

She grinned back. "Why don't you go under the table and get close? I have a surprise for you down there."

I raised an eyebrow, glanced around as if to make absolutely sure no one was looking, and slithered down the seat and under the tall table.

I crawled across the floor on hands and knees to between Miss Ellen's large, black denim-covered and widely spread legs. Her hand was covering her crotch area completely, and her other hand beckoned me forward with a single crooked finger. "Closer, James. Just a little closer."

I shuffled closer, as though I didn't know what she was up to, and as soon as I could see her face as she looked down at me past the edge of the table, she snatched a big handful of my hair to keep me from getting away.

She removed the hand covering her crotch, showing her unbuttoned and unzipped jeans, and her big erection pointed straight upward from the elastic of her panties. Grasping her cock, she pointed it down at my face and stroked it. "Surprise!" she exclaimed, and pulled my head forward, slotting it into my open mouth.

As she worked me over her cock, Miss Ellen relaxed back in the chair and sighed in pleasure. "You said it yourself, James. We won't have much time together, so I kind of need you to put out right away." Grasping her massive breast in her big hand, she squeezed hard enough that her fingers sunk into the flesh through her sweatshirt. "And I've got to let you know, I'm a very horny girl. You're going to have to put out a lot."

Her grip on my hair tightened, and she began to buck up into me, meeting me halfway. "Mmm. I've wanted your cute little mouth around my dick since the day I met you, James. We're going to be doing this a lot, okay? I'm about to cum, here, so remember to swallow. We don't want to leave any evidence for the librarian now, do we?"

Four more strokes where she fucked my face more than I sucked her dick, and she came furiously into my mouth. It was more rapid, and far more volume than she'd ever orgasmed with me before. Either I wasn't tending to her needs often enough lately, or living out her reoccurring wet dream kicked everything up a notch.

Still, most of the time when I gave Miss Ellen relief, she stuffed herself as far into me as she could, far past my taste buds. The first time she came in my mouth instead of down my throat, it was a struggle to swallow it down. I hated the taste, the texture, everything. Every time after that though, it got better and better. Now when I got her cum on my tongue, I savored it as a delicacy. It was a treat Miss Ellen rarely bestowed on me.

I kept my moan inside, but only just. I suckled at just her cockhead, making sure I got every single drop, then swallowed it all down. There was so much, it took me multiple gulps.

Miss Ellen rested with her dick still in my mouth, considering me for a minute. Then she scooted her chair back, and pulled me along with the grip she still had in my hair.

I was pulled to my feet, and she kissed me, closed-mouthed and briefly, before quickly unbuttoning my pants and tearing them down my legs to mid-thigh. My underwear followed right after.

I tried to stay in character. "Er, Ellen? What-?" was as far as I got before I was turned, lifted, and bent over the table.

The table was made for Miss Ellen's stature, so my feet hung limply, not able to reach the ground. I looked over my shoulder as Miss Ellen squatted down, spread my bum with her big hands, and dove in.

Her tongue licking around and barely inside of my asshole actually felt really good. I knew I was clean back there, and was suddenly glad I'd been secretly preparing for this for the last few months.

I kept watching over my shoulder as she got me good and wet, then she stood and spit heavily into her hand, rubbing it all about her still-hard member.

"I know this is your first time, James, but try and keep it down, alright? Don't get us expelled." I felt the crown of her slick spear begin to press at my backdoor, and I forced myself to open up and let her in.

Slowly she stuffed more and more of her tumescence into me, and I realized that I didn't stretch myself out with the plugs enough. My anal ring burned around her plunging weapon.

When it felt like she'd rammed three feet of dick up into my intestines, her soft body touched down against my ass. "Fuck you feel good James," she muttered. My body lit up at her praise, as it always had for her, and the slight pain of my stretched sphincter vanished.

She shifted the grips of her hands to my waist, holding me both possessively and securely. She pulled out, just a little, and plunged that much back in. With every thrust, she pistoned a little more out, and shoved it in a little harder.

It felt like her dick was made for my ass. Or rather, my ass was made for her dick. Her hard cock smoothly went in and out of my hole, making Miss Ellen whimper at the sensations I was giving her. Still watching her, I got to see her bunch up her sweatshirt over her breasts, holding it in place with her chin, and then one at a time pull her breasts out of the bra cups to hang over it. At no point in there did she stop thrusting into me, or even look away from where her cock was sliding in and out of me. I was pretty sure she wasn't even aware I was watching.

Her breasts bounced and wobbled with her thrusting, and every impact of her pelvis to my ass not only sent a shock through me, but plowed my prostate gland. I felt an immense pressure begin to build deep inside of me.

Miss Ellen gripped my waist tight enough to almost hurt, and then she lifted me from the table and took a step back.

I hung limply in the air, unable to brace myself on anything, as Miss Ellen stood to her full, monumental height and fucked me brutally. She seemed to have no more trouble holding me in midair than she would a ragdoll.

I lost track of everything. There was only the feeling of her cock sliding in and out of me, the hard smacks of her pelvis impacting mine, and the big, big pressure still building in my core.

Finally, after perhaps thirty seconds of violent thrusting where she both slammed into me with all of her considerable strength and also pulled me back into her, she suddenly stopped and pressed really, really hard into me, as deep as she could, and came with a muted roar that sounded nearly beastial.

I felt her enormous, flaring head swell alarmingly in my bowels, and then she emptied what seemed like a gallon of liquid heat inside of me, one mighty pulse at a time.

I couldn't hold back any more, and I cried out as my own cock exploded. Spurt after spurt shot out of me, un-aimed at all, to streak across the table that was just out of my reach.

It was the biggest, strongest, longest orgasm I'd ever had... ever.

I came down from that high to find myself still held in the air by my waist, and still stuffed full of Miss Ellen's perpetually hard cock.

"James?" she softly got my attention, "How are you doing?" The tone of her voice was nothing but concern. I intuited that playtime was over.

I needed a moment to collect myself after that. "I have been trying to prepare myself for this, Miss Ellen. I am well, I believe. Do you wish to use me again?"

She gave a small thrust and moaned, the slippery lubrication of her cum working much better than just her saliva. "You wouldn't mind?" she checked.

I kept my chuckles inside. Would I mind? What a ludicrous question. "I am at your service, Miss Ellen. Always."

Miss Ellen walked us over to the table, and laid me down on my own cum. Laying her torso down on my back, her giant heavy breasts spilling across my shoulder blades, she gripped the table edges and took me again much gentler than before. It was nearly loving.

She kissed my ear. "You are the best, James. I hope you know how much you mean to me."

I squeezed her cock with what little strength I had left in my anus, making her moan wantonly. I had no words, I just went limp and enjoyed Miss Ellen laying over me and having her way with me.

******

The male elephant trails behind his prospective mate, waiting impatiently.

I shifted in bed, tired to my bones but unable to sleep just yet. I never developed the attachment to television that most people raised in first world countries did. The only time I ever even turned on the immense TV Miss Ellen had purchased for my apartments in her home was when I was trying to fall asleep.

The one thing I moderately enjoyed watching was nature documentaries, especially the ones made about African fauna. I spent nearly half of my childhood there.

Ah! The male tastes the female's urine, testing the hormones within. Deciding that the sow is not in season just yet, the bull wanders away, perhaps to find another sow to test.

I sat upright in bed, heart pounding, suddenly very, very wide awake. Hormones! Carefully, I rewound the streaming documentary with unsteady fingers on the remote and played that last bit over again.

Hopping out of bed, I grabbed my phone and ran into my bathroom and the mirror within.

I tore my sleep clothes from my body and looked carefully. The changes were so gradual, I didn't notice. Pulling up the last photo on Facebook I'd taken of myself before joining Miss Ellen's service, I held up my phone and compared it to the face in the mirror.

It was definitely different. The mirror had a smaller nose, smaller chin, smaller brow, bigger cheekbones. All of which was impossible.

I cupped the large fleshy bulge over my left pectoral and felt it, digging my fingers in deep.

Oh God.

There was more than just fat inside of there. I knew what a breast felt like, and that was breast tissue. Actual, mammary gland, breast tissue.

Another thought hit me, and buck naked I raced through Miss Ellen's home to the sewing room.

Grabbing the pencil from the work table, I stood against the white wall and made a careful mark in line with the very top of my head, then measured it.

Five feet, ten and a half inches. An entire two and a half inches taller than I should be. I sank to the floor as the implications came crashing down, one after another.

My pants weren't riding up because my ass and legs were getting thicker. I had grown taller. My nose and chin didn't shrink, the rest of my skull got bigger. My shoulders weren't narrower at all, my ribcage and neck had just gotten longer.

The aches that reminded me of growing pains actually were growing pains.

I recalled something I'd seen about a big uproar involving dairy cows being treated with hormones, and that those hormones would make it into the milk they produced.

Miss Ellen had told me, directly, on the very first day of my service that she had an overabundance of hormones. I'd subsisted primarily on the liters of breast milk she produced every day. I'm sure she also had concentrated doses in her semen, which I had been ingesting and, for the last few months, also getting it injected directly into my intestines.

Miss Ellen's endocrine problem had made her very big, very strong, and very voluptuous. It seemed that the same hormones I'd been taking from her had somehow kicked my body into some kind of... accelerated secondary puberty, making my body follow along the same guidelines as she had. I had acne for the first time since I was a teen because I was actually in puberty again.

I didn't get called 'Ma'am' because I had long hair and too much body weight. I got mistaken for female because I was becoming more female.

I pulled my knees up and rested my forehead on them. I was now very aware of how much further my hips stuck out to the sides, and very aware of my breasts pressing against my thighs.

I fought with myself for only a very short time. In the end, I was wholly dedicated to Miss Ellen. If being in her service was to reshape me in her mold, then...

So be it.

******

Ignoring the clicking of the keyboard, I concentrated on giving Miss Ellen the slow blowjob she desired.

Comfortably perched on my stool under her desk, I savored her length as I bobbed my head up and down, trying to keep my noises of enjoyment down so as to not distract her.

She had told me it helped her creativity when she was writing her novels if I would blow her without making her cum. She had no need to explain any of her reasoning to me, all she had to do was state her wants. Still, she tried to let me know the whys of her desires. It was as if she didn't even know that I was hers to do with as she pleased.

There was only so much attention she could take before her orgasm was upon her however, between her heightened libido and sensitive skin. I felt her hand grip the ponytail I'd taken to keeping my hair in, at the direct back of my head, and the cock in my mouth began to pulse and throb, the powerful muscles convulsing to squirt her cum across my tongue and to the back of my throat.

I swallowed her load as slowly as I could, savoring every taste she'd given me. Her hand left my hair, and I resumed bobbing over her still-hard length, managing to get a few more drops of her delicious semen out.

The clicking of the keyboard slowed, then stopped, and she wheeled her chair back to look down at me, incidentally pulling her cock from my mouth with a pop. "I think I want a massage, James. My back hurts a little from typing so long."

I nodded and crawled out from beneath her desk, the stool I'd been resting on springing back up to its resting state without my weight holding it down.

"Very good, Miss Ellen. I shall await you in the massage room." I hustled out of her office and a few doors down to the room I'd outfitted for her.

Soft lighting, an oil warmer, and a surround-sound speaker system to play relaxing music. And the pièce de résistance; a massage table, large and reinforced enough to handle Miss Ellen's awe-inspiring frame.

Turning on the warmer and stereo, I slipped into the smock hanging near the door to protect my clothing from the massage oils, and waited.

Miss Ellen walked into the room less than ten minutes later, and proceeded to strip her clothing off one article at a time, handing each to me once off.

I quickly and carefully folded her clothing as she disrobed, setting the articles on the shelf I'd installed for that very purpose.

Once she was nude, Miss Ellen laid out on the large massage table, resting her face in the padded hole at the head.

Grabbing the oil pump bottle from the warmer, I slipped it into my pocket and stepped to the table. Pumping a few squirts of oil into my hand and coating both of my hands, I began to rub Miss Ellen's lower back to an immediate groan.

I could not pay visual attention to what my hands were doing, relying on touch to keep working. Miss Ellen's large, voluptuous bottom sat high and proud, impossibly smooth and periodically clenching as she involuntarily humped the table. Rare were the times that I was able to indulge myself in admiring her glorious backside.

Miss Ellen's skin was so sensitive that an oil-assisted massage wasn't just nearly sexual to her, it was absolutely sexual. There was always much cum to clean from both the table and Miss Ellen herself after every rub-down.

Eventually I had to move up her back and away from that glorious bottom, so I did. Finding a knot, I gently worked the muscle loose to Miss Ellen's groans and sighs. Without warning she slammed her hips down on the table and humped strongly, pumping out a load of cum between herself and the table.

I kept working on her without pause. Miss Ellen was free to orgasm as she liked at any time without shame.

I rubbed away the aches in her back for nearly twenty minutes before she was as loose as I dared. "Do you wish for a full-body massage, Miss Ellen?" I queried.

Lazily, she picked her head out of the cushion. "No, I think I just wanted my back done. Thank you, James."

"My pleasure, Miss Ellen. Are you satisfied, or do you wish for more?"

Miss Ellen shuffled her body over until she was laying on her back. Her stomach was coated in the remnants of her multiple orgasms. "One more happy ending?" she begged.

Wiping my hands on a towel, I nodded. "Of course. How would you like your happy ending, Miss Ellen?"

"Ride me," she grinned, and stroked her cum-slick penis with an obscene smacking sound.

I removed my smock and hung it back up, then removed my pants and boxers, folding them quickly and placing them on the shelf. I pumped a squirt of massage oil into my hand, and climbed onto the table.

Straddling Miss Ellen's girthy thighs, I faced away from her. I did not want to cum on her body if it proved to be too much for me, as it usually did. My oil slickened hand took over stroking her, and I lubricated her member thoroughly before smearing some around and in my ass a little.