Slim Chance 3

Here it is, the beginning of a new Slim Chance story. I originally planned to make this a longer chapter but I've been very busy with multiple commissions (which I'll be posting soon) and it may be a couple weeks before I get more time on Slim Chance. So here is the first Part 1 of a 2 Part opening chapter. Judging by the poll there will be a bunch more Slim Chance next month. Enjoy!  

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Four grey walls and a single high window may not have been much to look at, but they were mine. In addition to the drab room the contract I had signed with Lansing Research promised three square meals a day, cable TV, and a laptop with wifi access. Not to mention enough money to get Mom out of debt with enough left over to buy a house. Compared to bagging groceries for minimum wage it felt like winning the lotto, assuming the lottery required giving up my freedom for the next twelve months and subjecting myself to ‘regular testing’, whatever that meant. The contract was filled with endless medical jargon which the lawyer summarized as, “They can poke you with needles whenever they want.”

Needles? No problem.

A few pricks were nothing after the torment I had suffered at Amanda’s hands. Recalling being squashed and abused by her enormous ass brought a sudden stirring in my pants that made my breath catch. Six months of abstinence and thoughts of Amanda still got to me sometimes. I pulled my legs on to the bed, crossed them, and rested the backs of my hands on my knees. My  eyes fluttered closed as I centered my focus. “I am in control. I want for nothing. My seed is life. Life must be preserved.” Again and again I repeated the words in my mind. 

I opened my eyes an interminable time later to see a nurse dressed in plain blue scrubs standing outside my door. “Impressive,” she said through a white medical mask. I blushed furiously, the last thing I wanted was a female seeing me meditate on abstinence. “May I come in?” she asked with straightforward professionalism. I nodded and she reached around the corner out of sight then turned presenting me with her backside as she hauled a cart into my room.

She had an average build which to me seemed sturdy and curvaceous, everyone looks like a powerhouse when you’re built like a skeleton. My limbs had never fully recovered from the disease and I had lost more than fifty percent of my muscle mass and about thirty percent bone thickness and density. The doctors had explained that if it weren’t for the ‘baby-like’ malleability of my bones I would be as likely to break a hip as any 75 year old. I guess every cloud has a silver lining.

“I don’t need to draw any blood today,” the nurse explained as she brought the cart to a stop alongside my bed. “Just a cheek swab.”

“Sure.” I opened my mouth to let her run q-tip around inside. Dark hair cut in a bob framed what was probably a pretty face, but the white medical mask made it difficult to tell. She finished swabbing my mouth and sealed the q-tip into a small clear plastic bag. “You have nothing to be ashamed of you know.”

If only she knew. “Err, yeah,” I replied.

“I mean it,” she said firmly and her hazel eyes met mine. “You have an abnormal number of virus strains in your body. The fact that you’ve managed to recover to this degree is miraculous.” An abnormal number of strains, what the hell was she talking about? You either had the disease or you didn’t… right?

“What do you mean an abnormal number?”

“The disease is caused by a virus. Individuals with certain genetic markers are susceptible to its effects,” the nurse explained in a calm, professional voice.

“I know that,” I said. The doctor’s had told me that much.

“Well what your doctors probably did not tell you is that this virus is very unique. Your immune system fights off parts of it, but the virus never goes completely dormant.”

“Like the common cold?” I’d read somewhere that everyone has a bunch of versions of the common cold in their body.

“Sort of. It’s more complicated than that. The virus is additive. Every time you are exposed to a new strain the effects of the disease increase. Most carriers only have one or two strains. You have twelve.”

Twelve! “That sounds bad.”

“It can be.” The nurse paused and I got the feeling she was trying to decide whether or not to tell me something. Finally she shook her head, “The point is you’ve done very well by disciplining yourself not to trigger the disease. You should be proud.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Thanks I guess,” I murmured. “But I’d rather not have any strains.”

“It is very strange to have so many. Once the virus bonds to your genetic material its difficult for it to transfer except to people with similar genetic makeup.” I swallowed, this line of conversation was cutting way too close to a topic I wanted to avoid at all costs. The nurse studied my expression for long seconds perhaps waiting for me to respond. When I said nothing she turned and began to haul the cart from the room. “Dinner is in an hour, don’t miss it,” she said, wheeling the cart into the hall. “The facility goes into lockdown afterward for seventeen’s dinner.”

I continued to stare blankly at the door for a long moment after the nurse had departed. They locked down the entire facility so one patient could eat dinner? Who the hell is seventeen? 

***

Three months earlier…

The door shut behind Alan with a harsh click that made every muscle in his body tense. Calm down, he urged himself, it’s just her room. And what a room it was: twelve foot tall ceilings capped walls that extended twenty feet back and another twenty feet to either side of the door leaving a lavish 20x40 living space. More than four times the space the other subjects were allotted and still crowded with furniture, clothes, and amenities. He walked forward, careful not to step on the mounds of clothes strewn about the floor, to the edge of an enormous bed. Alan was just shy of six feet tall and the top of seventeen’s mattress was even with his chest. It made him feel small. In fact, everything in the room made him feel small. 

An enormous bean bag chair most likely intended to seat an entire family had two enormous round impressions gouged into its surface. A V-shape of compressed fabric stood out from the rounded craters- the unmistakable mould of an enormous ass. Alan moved to the chair as though drawn by magnetic force and reached out to press his fingers into the fabric at the bottom of one of the rounded depressions. The cushion beneath the fabric was unyielding as stone, flattened and compressed by the enormous weight of the chair’s regular occupant. What would it feel like to be sat on by that much weight? Would his bones break? In spite of the danger Alan yearned to know. 

He turned and sat, wallowing in the huge depression of her ass-print. An electric thrill of excitement raced through his body and he stretched out his arms and pictured how her ass would overflowl his arms. Getting his arms around her would be impossible, seventeen was far too large. His eyes slid closed as he imagined what being sat on would feel like, the soft blubber of her butt and the powerful gluteal muscles beneath. His arms and hands would sink in at first then the weight and power of her ass would slowly, inexorably crush through his body’s resistance. Muscle and bone would be forced to conform to the shape of her booty until he was nothing more than an ass-shaped crater beneath her.  

And that was only her resting weight, not seventeen’s true strength.

Alan had an idea of how much raw power seventeen’s body contained and it awed him. He had lost count of the number of times he had watched saved security footage of her exercise routines. She was able to bench press six hundred pounds unassisted, nearly enough to set a world record. Her leg press was even more impressive. She was able to lift 2000 lbs, the maximum the gym’s equipment allowed for, over and over while barely breaking a sweat. The thought of what she could do to another person with that much strength made him shiver in excitement.  

The door hissed and Alan’s eyes snapped open. 

Subject seventeen stepped into the room with a heavy thud. The security footage was black and white so it was a shock to see seventeen had dyed blond hair and red lips. Those were the only details he had time to take in before she turned a glare on him cold enough to freeze blood. Cursing silently Alan shot to his feet and started to introduce himself, but his mouth hung open and worked soundlessly. Seeing a giantess on camera was one thing, witnessing her room-darkening size in person was something else entirely. It was like being faced down by an elephant- even though he was half a dozen paces away he felt crowded by her thick, ten foot tall frame. “Who are you?” Seventeen’s voice boomed. “No one is allowed in my room.” Her hands came to rest on hips wide enough to completely fill the doorway and she squared her shoulders, and did exactly that. 

Alan bowed his head, “I am- I ahh. I am here to assist you, mistress”

“Is this some kind of trick?” 

Alan shook his head vehemently. “I would never deceive you, mistress.”

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. The ground trembled as the giantess walked over to him. In spite of himself Alan began to shiver as deep-seated animal instinct screamed at him to run. “Stop calling my mistress, weirdo,” she said. “And tell me why you’re snooping around my room.”

Alan got the feeling his next words might earn him a great deal of suffering. “I ‘m sorry mist- er, miss. My name is Alan. I’m here to, umm, help.” He chanced a look up from the ground and saw her scowling down at him over her plump tits. Breasts that would have been a little larger than average if she were normal size were the size of volleyballs on her ten foot frame. They wobbled enticingly in the skin tight material of her grey bodysuit.

“What makes you think I need help?” Seventeen folded her arms beneath her bust. “And how is a little dweeb like you supposed to help me?” She took a step forward to emphasize exactly how little Alan was, positioning her crotch inches away from his face. His eyes flicked to the crevice where her thick thighs met her pubic mound and his heart started to race. He had prepared a speech to convince her of his intentions but words failed him. “You’re just another perv that wanted a closer look. You think I won’t hurt you like I did the other one? They won’t do anything to me,” she said smugly.

Alan remembered the tape of the incident she was referring to. Seventeen was a newly arrived at the facility then and the staff had not learned how belligerent and dangerous she could be. A male nurse had been insistent after she had refused to have blood drawn. In retaliation seventeen had pinned him down and stuck him with multiple syringes, leaving him bleeding on the floor like a pincushion. Ever since then the Lansing Research staff took extra precautions whenever dealing with her. But none of that mattered to Alan, he only wanted to bask in her presence. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he breathed. “I’ve disabled the cameras in your room so we can talk in private. No one will know what happens between us.”

Seventeen’s eyebrows raised and a thoughtful look crossed her expression. She stared at him for a long, silent moment before saying, “And why should I trust you?”

“You don’t have to- not yet. I’ll prove myself to you Miss…”

“Amanda.”

“Miss Amanda.” Alan was silently overjoyed at having learned her name. His infiltration into the Lansing Research computer systems had not delved deep enough to inspect the highly protected patient files. “All I can give you right now is information. They are doping your food so you’ll be more accommodating to the tests. And they know about your attempt to get through the D-wing security door.” Amanda’s scowl deepened. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I told you, I want to help.” 

She stared down at him for a long, tense moment. His mind wandered back to the chair, and what it might feel like to be crushed beneath her. What a way to go! “I want more pills, the kind that makes the shrimps get bigger.”

Alan nodded, exhilarated by the request. He could imagine no greater cause than helping this goddess grow. Still, that was not something easily accomplished. “That will be difficult, Miss Amanda.” Her brow furrowed and he raised his hands defensively. “But not impossible! The medical supplies are protected by a high tech security system and under armed guard at all times. The treatments stored at this facility are more advanced than those made available to the public and-”

Amanda’s hand  caught Alan’s shoulder, shoving him roughly against the beanbag chair. “So you’re useless.”

“N-no!” Alan exclaimed. “I just need time.”

“How much time?” She stepped forward and her massive body bathed him into shadow.

From his research on subject seventeen Alan knew she relished being worshipped- it was one of the many things that had drawn him to her. He needed to appease her, and quickly. “Please!”  he pleaded and fell to his knees. Her huge feet stretched out beneath him and he bent forward to kiss the tops of one foot. “I have a p-plan,” he stammered between kisses “j-just hear me out!”

Amanda sniggered. “Wow, you really did turn off those cameras. They would probably fire you for that.”

“I did, and they would.” he mumbled between sloppy, urgent kisses. “I swear it.”

“You remind me of a certain runt I know.” Amanda said slowly. “He was useless.” Suddenly her foot disappeared from the floor and a second later the incredible weight of her leg bent his spine as she dug her heel into his back.

“Please, let me help you!”

“Hmmmm,” Amanda purred. She was enjoying this! The realization sent Alan’s libido into overdrive. She was perfect, a true goddess of the sort he had longed to worship for years: enormous, domineering, and enamored with her own power. “Maybe I will,” she said and the weight of her foot disappeared from his back. “Don’t move,” she commanded and he froze. The sound of fabric rustling was the only warning he had before Amanda’s grey bodysuit crumpled to the floor in front of him. “I’m not wearing anything else, aren’t you going to look?” Her naked toes flexed inches from his face and he could smell the reek of her foot sweat.

“No Miss Amanda, you commanded me not to move.”

Amanda barked a laugh, “Maybe you’re smarter than that other runt after all.” Alan kept his head down and said nothing, acutely aware of the bulge now straining against his slacks. “But you still have to prove yourself.” Her voice was breathy and Alan guessed she probably had not had any sexual release in the entire three months she had been contained at the lab. Having someone willing to serve and obey her whims might be arousing her as much as it was him.

“I’ll do anything, Miss Amanda,” he replied fervently.

She lifted a foot and though he was eager to serve Alan could not help but recoil from the smell. Amanda laughed, “You like that? Start by cleaning my feet,” she demanded. She did not have to tell him what to clean them with. 

Alan said nothing in reply, but answered with his tongue all the same.