Jacob’s grin widened, a glint of mischief in his brown eyes as he leaned back on the cluttered desk, his massive frame now clad only in his stained, tight jockstrap. The dorm room felt smaller with his presence, the air thick with his musky scent and the faint hum of his arousal. Matt stood on the desk, his tiny naked body trembling slightly, caught between curiosity and nerves after their earlier intimacy. Jacob’s gaze roamed over Matt, hungry but laced with a strange respect, like he was sizing up a puzzle he wanted to both solve and savor.
“Alright, shrimp,” Jacob said, his voice low and gravelly, a teasing edge to it. “You’re tougher than you look, surviving my jockstrap like that. Got me thinking—how much can a tiny perv like you really take?” He rubbed his chin, his fingers brushing through the stubble, his eyes narrowing with a mix of curiosity and challenge. “I wanna test your limits. Push you a bit. See how much pressure my little secret can handle.”
Matt’s heart skipped, his voice catching. “Pressure? Like… what do you mean?” His tiny hands fidgeted, his body buzzing with a mix of fear and that confusing thrill Jacob kept stirring in him.
Jacob chuckled, the sound dark and warm. “Oh, you’ll see. Gonna take you on a tour of me, tiny. All over my body. First up—how much weight can you stand?” He stood, his movements deliberate, the jockstrap straining against his thick thighs and bulging arousal. He shoved the creaky chair aside with his foot, the scrape of wood against the floor loud in the quiet room. “C’mere, shrimp.”
Before Matt could protest, Jacob’s massive fingers pinched him gently, lifting him with surprising care. The world blurred as Matt was lowered to the floor, the worn carpet rough under his tiny feet. Jacob loomed above, a giant in his near-naked glory, his bare soles massive and calloused, the faint scent of sweat clinging to them. Matt craned his neck, his pulse racing as Jacob’s shadow engulfed him.
“Alright, tiny,” Jacob said, his voice a mix of command and playfulness. “We’re testing how much you can take on top of you. Don’t freak out, yeah? I’ll go easy… at first.” His smirk was wicked, but his eyes held a flicker of concern, watching Matt’s reaction closely.
Matt opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Jacob lifted his bare foot, the sole hovering above Matt like a descending monolith. The air grew heavy with the faint musk of sweat and skin, and Matt’s eyes widened, his body frozen. “Jacob, wait—!” he squeaked, but Jacob’s foot descended, slow and controlled, the warm, rough skin brushing Matt’s tiny face. The pressure started light, like a heavy blanket, pinning Matt to the carpet. Second by second, Jacob increased the weight, his foot pressing harder, the texture of his sole overwhelming—coarse, warm, and slightly slick with sweat.
Matt’s world was darkness and pressure, the scent of Jacob’s foot filling his lungs. It was intense, suffocating, but not painful—his tiny body held firm, resilient in a way that surprised even him. From above, Jacob’s voice rumbled, muffled but clear. “Everything alright down there, shrimp? Still with me?”
Matt’s voice was strained but steady, muffled under the massive sole. “Yeah… it’s a lot, but I’m okay!” To Matt, it felt like minutes, the pressure heavy but strangely grounding, like being anchored to Jacob’s raw physicality. His body ached slightly, but he was unharmed, the sensation more overwhelming than damaging.
After what felt like an eternity but was only seconds, Jacob lifted his foot, the cool air rushing over Matt’s tiny form. His fingers swooped down, plucking Matt up and lifting him to eye level. Jacob’s face was a mix of amazement and amusement, his brows raised. “Holy shit, tiny. You’re fine? That hurt at all?”
Matt caught his breath, his body tingling from the ordeal. “Just… a little. It was intense, but I’m perfectly fine now.” His voice was small but honest, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
Jacob’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. “Fuck, you’re something else, shrimp. Alright, let’s try another test. Got a better one in mind.” He turned, his movements purposeful, and dragged the chair back, positioning it to face the dorm room door. He set Matt carefully in the center of the seat, the worn fabric scratchy under Matt’s tiny body. Jacob stood tall, his jockstrap barely containing him, and shot Matt a teasing look. “Hope you’re ready for this one, perv.”
Matt’s stomach flipped as Jacob turned, his massive, muscular ass filling Matt’s view—firm, lightly dusted with hair, and intimidatingly powerful. “Jacob, what—?” Matt started, but Jacob was already moving. He bent his knees, lowering himself slowly, his ass descending like a slow-motion avalanche. Matt braced himself as Jacob’s weight came down, the warm, heavy flesh pressing against his tiny body. The pressure was immediate, enveloping Matt in heat and the faint musk of Jacob’s skin. It was softer than the foot but no less overwhelming, the weight pinning Matt to the chair.
Jacob shifted slightly, increasing the pressure bit by bit, his voice rumbling above. “You alright down there, tiny? Still good?” There was a teasing lilt, but also a genuine check-in, like he was balancing his curiosity with care.
Matt’s world was muffled, the weight heavy but not crushing. His tiny body held up, the pressure intense but manageable, like being buried in a warm, living mountain. “I’m… fine!” he called, his voice muffled but clear. “It’s a lot, but I’m okay!”
Jacob let out a low laugh, the vibration humming through Matt. He increased the pressure one last time, lingering for a few seconds before lifting off, the chair creaking as he stood. His fingers plucked Matt up again, holding him close to his face, his brown eyes gleaming with surprise and something like admiration. “Damn, shrimp. Same as before? You’re just… fine?”
Matt nodded, catching his breath, his body buzzing from the experience. “Yeah, pretty much the same. It hurt a tiny bit, but I’m good.” He met Jacob’s gaze, a mix of nerves and growing confidence in his voice. “You’re… kinda amazed, huh?”
Jacob’s grin was wide, almost boyish, but his eyes burned with new ideas. “Hell yeah, I am. You’re a tough little fucker, Matt. Got me thinking…” He leaned closer, his breath warm on Matt’s tiny form. “What else can we try? I’m not done testing you yet, shrimp. You’re too fuckin’ fun.”
Matt’s heart raced, the mix of fear, trust, and curiosity swirling in his chest. Jacob’s enthusiasm was infectious, his rough edges softened by a growing respect. “Just… keep it slow, okay?” Matt said, his voice steadier now. “I’m still figuring this out.”
Jacob’s smile softened, his massive finger brushing Matt’s tiny shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Slow as you need, tiny. But trust me—this is just the start.” He set Matt on his bare thigh, the muscle flexing under him, and leaned back, his mind clearly racing with more ways to push Matt’s limits, his jockstrap tenting with barely contained excitement.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author