Matinee

So this story was made in something of a rush. It’s gone through about twice as much editing time as it actually took to write at this point, and once I realized it I decided to to cut it short there, before this turned into another multi-thousand WIP that never sees the light of day.

Alas, in favor of actually giving something back to the community, I decided to cut it a little short.

The main idea behind the execution of this story was to just pick up with something without needing to give the relevant characters intricate backstories to bog down the reader. It’s just meant to be a glimpse, a peek behind the curtains if you will, of these three’s particular lives. Not to say that I won’t re-use them at some point.

Content Warning: NSFW, Growth, Shrink, M/ff, Poly relationship, Language, gentle

Estimated Reading Time: 14 minutes

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“Sit still.”

The woman in front of him turns around and gives him a strange look.

“Sorry!” Mara says, coming to his rescue. She grabs Enrique’s hand and holds it up, the picture of a couple still in the honeymoon stage. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie for so long. I’ve just been driving him up the wall.”

The woman stares at the two of them, skeptical, but a not-so-quiet curse from the teens she’d been corralling draws her attention away.

“Thanks,” Enrique says, turning his attention back to the wriggling shape in his shirt. He taps his chest with his palm, firmly pressing the tiny woman inside his chest pocket against him.  “And you, stop moving around like that. People are getting suspicious.”

There’s no way for Ava to respond – not without giving away her presence – but her answering wiggles come across a lot more defiant and bratty than before.

Enrique sighs and turns to Mara in her floral print top and summer sweet smile. “Next time, you get to be the mule.”

She shrugs, remarking, “Fine by me. You know how she gets when you shrink her down like that. I thought you’d keep her somewhere where she’d make less trouble, if you catch my drift. Not your shirt pocket.”

He eyes her, unimpressed. “Last time we did that I ripped up my favorite outfit. You know I can’t control it when either of you get me going like that.”

“You poor thing.” Mara says nothing more until after she blithely smiles her whole order to the register and they’re let through the security check. As soon as they’re just out of earshot she turns to him and says, “I’m just saying, being trapped in an elevator with your cock and balls pinning me to a wall while she’s desperately trying to get you off? Sign me the fuck up.”

Enrique stumbles, stands upright, and fakes a cough. No one around pays them any mind, but he still feels exposed like this.

He glares at Mara. “You’re the devil.”

“Guilty,” she admits, composed. “Though I’d check myself first before accusing anyone of sin. Been having lustful thoughts lately, Enrique?” She punctuates this with a cursory nod and not-so-significant glance down at his crotch.

And then she beelines for the empty register at the snack bar, robbing him of a retort.

He groans, planting a palm against his forehead. “She’s going to be the death of me,” he mutters, aloud and to no one in particular.

Ava wiggles against his chest, and he can’t tell if it’s in agreement or because she’s throwing her lot in with Mara.

When Mara returns, it’s with a single bottle of water.

The next clerk checks Mara’s shoulder strap bag before waving them through the next partition, where all the theatres live. Though they’re early he and Mara enter the dim room, their conversation hushing as they listen for anyone else: other patrons or even any straggling cleaners.

“… okay, you’re good, babe,” Enrique whispers into the darkness. 

On cue, a miniature redhead pokes her head out of his pocket, supporting herself against the lip of his pocket.

“You jerk,” Ava says, kicking her heel back against him. He’s felt rain drops hit harder. “My leg was falling asleep. That’s why I was moving.”

“Sure you were,” Mara comments as they walk up the stairs to their seats. “I’ve seen you masturbate under the sheets, Ava, I know what it looks like when you’re getting off.”

Enrique isn’t looking at Ava when Mara says this, but he too knows Ava’s body feels like when she’s riding high from being the size of a quarter. He thought there’d been something familiar about her movements.

“Ava! What the hell! We could have gotten caught!”

Ah, he says that but the thought of her touching herself, pressed tight against his body like that…

His collar slides around his throat as he swells just a little larger.

Mara laughs, ever the pot-stirrer. “Try saying that when you don’t look like you’re about to pop that zipper off with your dick, love.”

“We should have just stayed home if you two were going to be like this.” He tries to surreptitiously adjust himself as they ascend the last step, but Mara’s knowing look back at him tells him how well he succeeds at that. “The only reason we did this tonight is because you didn’t want to pay full price for the three of us. I was fine with a night in, getting the fireplace going-”

Lips – sweet, delicious and hanging with a faint fragrance of cherries – interrupt him mid-sentence.

Ava squeaks, suddenly trapped between their two massive bodies. She writhes in place, pressed between Enrique and Mara, helpless and subject to their whims and gooseflesh broke out along his skin at the sensation. Mara runs a hand through his dark hair, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss his jawline, before breaking off and looking up at him.

“Losing control there,” she says, hand against his chest, cupping Ava’s pocket. Before he can answer, Mara plucks her up and out of his pocket like a flower from a field. The tiny woman struggles on instinct, but soon turns pliant and putty. “Gotta be careful there, Ri. Wouldn’t want to lose little Ava.”

Enrique groans, but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he shakes his head to clear the thoughts running rampant and trudges his way down the aisle, dropping into his assigned seat with a thump that shakes the floor.

He looks out at the empty theatre. “You know, it’s pretty empty here. Almost like someone planned this.”

“Imagine that,” Mara says. 

There’s a wicked look in her eye as she passes Ava from hand to hand, rolling her tiny body over and over and running her fingers over every inch. Or half-inch, as the case was. 

Ava protests feebly, but that’s lost amidst Mara’s hums of pleasure.

They sat down next to him, Mara looking comparatively shorter than five minutes ago and Ava, so small as to fit spread eagle on the tip of one of his fingers.

He eyes his shrunken girlfriend in his fiancee’s hands. “Sounds like a certain someone whose turn it was to arrange date night this week.”

“Who could that have been?” Mara pinches Ava between her thumb and forefinger, rolling her back and forth along her thumb pad like a miniaturized stress toy. She dangles the little redhead from one foot in front of her face. “Who do you think it was, Ava?”

“Fuck,” Ava gasps, swaying. Even in the poorly lit room he sees the full-body flush of exertion and arousal, clear as day. “Fuck, Mara. Do that again.”

Mara contemplates this request before she complies, trapping Ava between her fingers once more.

He’d allowed himself some slack when picking out his clothing, but even so the slow steady rise of his shirt hem from his slacks and the cramped space in his shoes were evident how much of a failure that was.

And there was Mara still playing with Ava in hand, planting warm wet kisses against the shrunken woman’s form with something akin to hungry pleasure.

“Give her here,” he growls out. His voice escapes louder than intended, but that’s only because it’s taking everything he has not to grow further.

Mara drops Ava into his outstretched hand, and he’s right. With a grunt, he pulls at his collar, unbuttoning the top two buttons so he doesn’t choke in his own clothing. He rips his shoes off with gusto with his free hand and spends an inordinate amount of time eyeing the woman whose turn it was to be small tonight.

“What to do, what to do,” he thinks aloud. Ava stands up in his palm to look at him and, on a whim, he lets out a soft exhale, blowing her down as easily as a dandelion seed. “I have to keep you somewhere safe…”

He trails off as Mara slides down to her knees in front of him. Her dark tresses drape across his thigh as she trails kisses along the inseam.

“I can think of somewhere for her,” she murmurs, reaching his crotch.

He cups Mara’s face briefly. He’s large enough now that his palm covers half side of her head, the seat armrests struggling to contain his hips as he steadily grows to fill the space it affords him and more. In his other hand, Ava crawls over to the side of his palm, gaping down at the floor falling further away from her.

The wooden frame of the chair creaks ominously as he shifts forward, letting Mara pull down at his pantline, freeing him from its confines. Relief strikes him then as his cock is liberated from its hold, before pure unassailable desire floods through him as it smacks Mara in the cheek.

“You’re…massive.” Mara leans back and looks him up and down, craning her neck. “I can’t even get out of here unless I crawl under your legs, you’re literally blocking my way out.”

Enrique chuckles. “And what about you, Ava? Am I too big?”

He doesn’t give her a chance to respond. He tilts his hand and watches her tumble, free-falling for the barest second, before coming to a sudden landing on his shaft. She bounces, rolling down at a steep incline, before she corrects herself and stops, midway down his shaft, pressed against him like she were a mountain climber and he her mountain.

Mara scoots in, hesitant. Despite her earlier teasing she too is a little awed and intimidated by him at this size, where his ass is taking up the entire loveseat theatre chairs. Squinting against the dim light, she leans in closer to his cock, her own breaths coming in short and heavy.

“She’s grinding against you,” Mara says, mouth dropping open into a smile. “Oh my god. Look at her, she’s barely holding on, but I can hear her. Heya hun.” She presses Ava against him, and he jerks at the electrical shock of pleasure from just being touched. “Are you enjoying yourself? Are you really getting off in a movie theatre?”

Mara’s grip doesn’t fit across Enrique’s entire base anymore, but that still doesn’t stop her from beginning to stroke him. Up and down, soft but firm. He imagines he can feel Ava, trapped in her grip, stuck and helpless against his dick while Mara jerks him off.

“You’re such a tiny little slut,” Mara continues. For all that he’s grown over twice his size now, she’s fascinated with Ava, shrunken and helpless for the evening. “You enjoy rubbing against his cock like this, hun? Can you even feel her, Ri?”

“Not at all,” he huffs. He adjusts his seating, hearing the crunching of wood and fabric as he slides forward a little more to not bump his head on the ceiling. This plants Mara against his crotch, and he shudders at her gasp and reflexive grip of his inner thigh. “Keep going.”

He hears Mara swallow, but soon her ministrations upon him resume, and he bites his lip to not let out the rumble of pleasure building in his chest. She’s pinned now, no room to even eke out a getaway like before. His thighs come down on both sides of her head now, and her previously done up hair is a mess as she continues to jerk him in both hands, Ava’s little mewls of pleasure punctuating the seconds.

“I could- I could just grow. Fill this whole room. Forget the movie,” He says and wonder why he does. He’s never grown larger than this before.

Mara’s motions don’t skip a beat but he feels her grip on him tighten. “You’d…be enormous. Can you even get that big?”

He closes his eyes, biting back the groan as Mara’s hands now fail to cover his girth with both hands. “I don’t know. I’ve never gotten that big before. Used to – fuck, keep going – shrinking others.”

“…do you want to?”

“I don’t know.”

Mara stops. The cheeky, incorrigible woman stops. He can’t stop the thundering noise of displeasure, of need that escapes him, but she doesn’t back down. She looks up at him, defiant and glorious, as beautiful as the dawn, and she holds his cock in both hands as she says. “I want you to.”

The words have an immediate, almost narcotic, effect.

“Bigger,” she says, commencing her strokes. The fire building in his gut is rapidly encompassing everything he knows. “I want you bigger. Big enough to fill this room. Big enough to make me look as small as Ava.”

“Where- where is she?” he gasps. He’d gotten too carried away, and lost track of her.

“Right here.” Mara holds up the tiny – miniature to him – woman. Ava’s a sodden, flushed mess, and even from his vantage point he can see the legacy twitches of an orgasm. Mara picks up the young woman lovingly, and kisses her back to coherence. “Well, love? What do you say? Want to see him get bigger? Grow? Want to see how big that-”

Ava rouses from her exhaustion to say something. Enrique’s too large to hear her, but he’s not so large as to miss the look of absolute delight cross Mara’s face.

“What? What did she say?” If she said yes, Enrique didn’t think he’d have the willpower to refuse them.

Mara drops Ava onto his crotch. She disappears into his pubic hair and his eyes lose track of her. With a grunt of effort, Mara pries herself up, climbing onto his thigh. She walks along until she came to the incline that is his abdomen. The movie theatre darkens, the first sign of previews.

In the darkness of the room he can almost believe it’s just the three of them at home now. Ava, tired but still enthusiastic, Mara in charge for the evening, and him so achingly willing and ready to care for the both of them, whatever may come. Even if it were him.

Mara voice reaches him, carrying tidings of his fortune.

“Ava agrees.”

As the crescendo and drums of the first preview comes on, Enrique closes his eyes.

“Next time,” he mutters, “I get to pick date night.”

Mara laughs, husky, already wrapping herself around his growing member. “Oh babe, It’s Ava’s turn next time, and now that she knows how big you can make someone? Just think.”

He does. The possibilities both thrill and arouse him.

“Now, are you going to grow for me, Ri?” Mara plants a single lava-hot kiss that spreads heat through the rest of him. “I want you fucking enormous. Fuck these chairs. Fuck this room. Fuck this movie. I want you to grow.”