I’ve never seen “BBW Giantess in HR Unbirthing Revenge” starring Giantess Jayne, but if I had an unlimited F/X budget, this is what I’d produce.
The email went out to the whole team at once, arriving in each of their inboxes at 2:30 pm. A single line: “Report to Jayne’s office at 3pm today.” Jayne was not the team’s direct report. Jayne was the Director of HR.
Steve had been in the restroom when the email arrived, and the rest of the team had assembled in the middle of their cube farm by the time he returned. Amy broke the news to him.
“We’re gonna get shit-canned,” she said brutally. Amy was Steve’s closest friend in that place, but she tended to see the worst in every eventuality.
“They can’t,” said Tiffany. “We finished the project by the deadline.” The team didn’t have an official leader, but Tiffany clearly saw it as her role. By the end of the project she was checking in with everyone hourly.
“Nothing in the law says they can’t,” said Jason. He was the smartest person on the team, but there was only so much one person could do to boost group productivity.
It had been a team effort, yes, but Steve knew he had been the weak link in the chain. The others had to know it, too, but they had somehow managed not to openly acknowledge it, not even now when they were facing the likely consequences for the entire team.
“At most they’ll just reassign us all,” Steve said, hoping the others would validate his denial or at least not contradict it. Amy looked at him quizzingly, giving him no relief.
It was 2:44 pm. Jason glanced toward the elevator lobby, wondering if Security was loitering to secure their work stations after they left. There was no unusual activity to be seen.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Tiffany, marching toward the lobby, followed closely by Jason. Amy and Steve looked at each other wordlessly, struggling with bravado and self-pity. Steve felt like holding Amy’s hand, something they had never done. Amy wrapped herself with her arms, lowered her gaze, and turned to follow the rest of the team. Steve drifted after them.
Jayne used to dread this part of her job. She was almost never the person who made the final decision to terminate anyone, but she got stuck delivering the bad news. That was the point of her position, of course—to make it as impersonal as possible. It became even more impersonal as metrics drove more and more business decisions. Now employees were essentially fired by algorithm, as if one day Facebook just decided you shouldn’t work here anymore.
After twenty years in Human Resources, Jayne had perfected her routine. Alerts went out to Accounting, IT, and Security with precisely sufficient notice to revoke the necessary permissions while minimizing the possibility of a premature leak to the employees. Her diligence and dedication had resulted in her being unofficially informed that she could have the next opening at vice president. She still hadn’t fully absorbed that possibility.
Out of habit, Jayne had also cleared her calendar for the balance of the day in order to deal with any unforeseen complications. That had become largely unnecessary once Corporate had instituted the new off-boarding procedure. Now Jayne just used that time for personal indulgence.
She met the team at her office door at 2:59 pm. They shuffled into Jayne’s office, all four with tense shoulders and sour faces. Jayne smiled blandly and invited them to sit in the chairs arranged in a gentle curve in front of her desk. She closed the door behind them as they sat down, then they watched apprehensively as she slowly walked back to her seat.
Jayne wasn’t dressed any differently than usual, but at that moment she somehow seemed more menacing. Her tight dress struggled to contain her bulging belly and churning ass, far too voluminous for her professional blazer. The dress stopped entirely mid-thigh, allowing Jayne’s pasty legs, encased in fishnets, to propel her around the desk atop her precarious-looking heels. As she settled her plump ass into her seat, the sturdy high-backed chair gave an impressive groan.
She owned the room.
Jayne glanced at each of the team members in turn. In the leftmost chair sat Tiffany Branson, blonde and skinny, a pretty pest who challenged every directive and policy with maddeningly petty quibbles. Jayne wouldn’t miss her in the slightest.
Next to Tiffany sat Jason Robinette, a reserved black man with distractingly well-developed arms. Jayne had actually spoken out in favor of retaining Jason, but team performance metrics existed for a reason.
To Jason’s right was Amy Tsao, an innocuous slip of a girl whose first and only impression upon Jayne was that she was a slovenly dresser. No other accomplishments or demerits of note, but it’s funny what people remember about you.
Finally there was Steve Rogan. Dark hair, sly grin, and all-around slacker. Jayne knew he was going to be trouble from his first interview, but one of his references was a college buddy of the VP’s, and there was nothing she could say. Until today.
“If you have reviewed the Monthly Metrics Report as expected by firm policy,” began Jayne, “you will understand why you are all here.” Five hard copies of the report were stacked neatly on Jayne’s desk to her right should a detailed explanation be necessary.
Jayne was surprised that the first protest came from Amy. “We completed the project by the deadline,” she said. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“If you’ll recall,” Jayne said evenly, “that was not the original deadline. In any event, firm policy is quite clear about meeting all performance metric standards.” She glanced at her phone and tapped it twice, as if declining a silent call.
Tiffany started to sputter and the others were sufficiently occupied with similar indignation and shock that none of them noticed either the door to Jayne’s office quietly locking itself or the ceiling panel above them sliding open to reveal the emitter. The beam’s effect was not instantaneous, but it was quick enough that only the most acrobatic of targets could escape it, and only then if they saw it coming, which they never did.
Jayne held a placid expression on her face, but inwardly she thrilled to see the under-performing team members start to shrink in size. The beam emitter was a proprietary innovation from the firm’s Research division, but Jayne saw it as an elegant and civilized solution to the problems faced by Human Resources. She had been quite happy to refer to the process as “downsizing” until that stupid movie came out and ruined everything.
She savored the bewildered expressions on their dwindling faces until they dropped below and behind her desktop. When the emitter cycled down, she tapped her phone once more and the ceiling panel slid back into place. She reached for the deep plastic tray she kept on the shelf for such occasions, then stood up and sauntered around her desk to gaze upon the team at their new, more manageable size.
Jayne knew from the technical specifications that the emitter reduced objects (and dispensable employees) to four percent of their original height and 0.0064% of their original weight, but those numbers failed to adequately describe the delight Jayne experienced when she looked down on Steve, now sitting in the center of the unaffected chair, his mouth hanging open as he stared up at her in astonishment. Steve reflexively flinched as the towering Jayne seemed to fall forward onto him, but she only bent down, held the tray next to his mostly empty seat, and casually swept him into the tray as she might brush crumbs off a kitchen counter.
Amy was at the edge of her chair seat, looking at the carpeted floor and possibly trying to work up the nerve to jump. Jayne held the tray before her to provide a much less daunting drop, but Amy only started backing away from it, so Jayne impatiently shoved her in.
Jason had wasted no time and was already on the floor, halfway to the door, when Jayne turned her attention to him. She drew a pen out of her blazer pocket and flung it at him, catching him behind the knees and taking his legs out from under him. He sprawled onto his chest and face, and Jayne could tell from his terrified expression when he rolled onto his back that he had felt her thunderous approach through the floor as she walked over to collect him and put him with the others.
Tiffany had stood up on her seat and turned to face Jayne as she moved about the office. She had her hands on her hips and was squeaking up a storm. Her pitch became even higher when Jayne wrapped her inescapable fingers around Tiffany and deposited her in the tray.
Jayne hummed tunelessly as she returned to her own chair and placed the tray on her desk. Her eyes twinkled behind her wide glasses as she leaned forward to get a closer look at the reduced team. Jayne’s breasts were more than proportionate to her other bulges and rolls, and when they hit the desk the tremor knocked the tiny tray occupants off their feet.
First to get back up was Tiffany. “You can’t do this!” she shrieked up at Jayne.
“It was spelled out in the waiver you all signed upon acceptance of employment,” Jayne recited wearily. ‘Employees terminated for cause shall be disposed of at the discretion of the Director of Human Resources.’ I have initialed receipts certifying that each of you received a copy.”
“Fuck that,” said Jason hotly. “That’s an illegal codicil. You best restore us immediately if you don’t want to get sued.”
Jayne giggled at the pitiful threat, not least because “restoration” was impossible. She hadn’t risen to her position without facing down a dozen lawsuits. And, of course, no downsized employee had ever so much as consulted an attorney.
“Well, that’s enough shop talk, “ Jayne said. “Let’s get those clothes off, shall we?”
The four shrunken people froze, trying to read Jayne’s enormous looming face, then looking at each other to verify that they had heard her correctly. Finally, Tiffany exclaimed, “What!?”
Jayne shook her head in faux disappointment, then leaned back, selected a letter-opener from her pen jar, then scooped Tiffany up in her other hand. “Hold still, Barbie.”
With practiced precision, Jayne slid the point of the letter-opener under the back of Tiffany’s shirt then quickly flicked it up, slicing through the shirt all the way to the collar as well as through Tiffany’s rear bra strap. Inverting the mouse-sized woman, she fit the point into the crack of her tiny flat ass and tore the seat of Tiffany’s pants in two. Finally, she plucked off her shoes and piled her shredded clothes in an open desk drawer.
By the time Jayne looked back at the tray, the other three shrunken employees were already disrobing. She returned the naked and terrified Tiffany to the tray with a satisfied smirk. Once all four were hunched over and trying to cover their privates, Jayne resumed her humming and added all the tiny clothes to her collection and closed the drawer.
Tiffany, Jason, and Amy kept their eyes on the tray floor and walls, occasionally stealing glances at each other, anything to avoid Jayne’s leering scrutiny. Only Steve looked up sheepishly now and then. As much as she was enjoying the team members’ terror and humiliation, Jayne could hardly stay locked in her office until the end of the day. Appearances had to be maintained.
With a sigh followed by a professional snort, Jayne leaned back from the desk and stood up from her chair, startling the downsized employees and provoking them to huddle closer to the floor and walls of the tray. Looking down imperiously as she stood over them, Jayne removed her blazer and hung it on the back of her chair, then reached behind her back and unzipped her dress. Pulling her arms out of her dress sleeves revealed her long-suffering bra containing her mighty bosom.
Steve and Amy let out yelps of dismay and frantically looked around for any possible avenues of escape. Jayne couldn’t help grinning as she reached down to pluck Amy by her ankle and lift her inverted and wriggling to her face. You sure didn’t expect this when you came to work this morning, did you? thought Jayne.
With her free hand Jayne reached across her chest and into her bra between the cup and the front of her breast. She grabbed as much boob as she could and pulled it away from the cup, then lowered the struggling Amy into the just-vacated space. If Amy had any comment on her new accommodations, it was lost under the avalanche of flesh when Jayne released her tit.
Jayne’s eyes narrowed and her grin became even more predatory as she reached for Tiffany. The tiny blonde’s squeaks of outrage were abruptly muffled as Jayne immured her in her bra underneath her other giant knocker.
Jason had already tried to escape once, so Jayne kept her eyes on him as she slipped her arms back into her dress sleeves and zipped herself back up. He was trying to hide in a near corner of the tray, but he had to know that was futile.
Steve was openly staring up at Jayne in abject awe, barely bothering to cover his junk. His arms fell limply to his sides when Jayne started to hike her dress up over her thick thighs, past her unabashed cameltoe, all the way above the taut waistband of her pale pink panties.
He was so dumbstruck that he didn’t try to evade Jayne’s grasping fingers when she reached down and pinched him about the back and sternum. She pulled her waistband away from her formidable gut and dangled Steve over the opening. Only then did he give her what she wanted: a shout and frenzied flailing as he realized her design. Jayne permitted herself a brief satisfied “Ah” as she released him from her pinch and watched him plummet into her thick bush.
Jason decided to try another escape attempt, but he had only reached the top of the tray wall with one hand when Jayne plucked him around his waist. Bringing him to her lips, she sampled his ass with the tip of her tongue before dropping him into her panties and letting the waistband snap back.
Jayne efficiently slipped her dress back into place before re-donning her blazer. She stood still a moment to appreciate how her four passengers were settling in. Amy had initially curled into a fetal position at the deepest hollow of Jayne’s bra cup, but she had gradually extended her limbs and was now distributing the weight of Jayne’s breast equally across her two-inch frame.
Tiffany remained in the posture she started with, pushing and kicking back at the flesh tsunami, albeit much less energetically now. The boys in Jayne’s panties had fallen to the gusset directly underneath her taint, but the swaying caused the few steps she took seemed to have encouraged them to find more secure lodgings. Jayne tried to help them make up their minds by taking a seat.
“There,” Jayne said, to all appearances to herself, “I’m glad that worked out to everyone’s satisfaction.” She paused to enjoy the sensations of Steve and Jason wedging themselves at the outer edges of the front of her panties, on either side of her pussy where her thighs pressed against the mound of forested flesh spreading out from her vulva.
When their movements had mostly subsided, Jayne returned the tray to its shelf and tapped her phone again to unlock he office door. I’m due for a stretch, she thought. Jayne toured her passengers’ department, making sure to talk with their (former) colleagues and congratulate them on their achievements and forthcoming bonuses. She also chatted with a couple of executive assistants , inquiring after their social lives and weekend plans.
Finally, it was time to go home. Her quick strides through the parking garage dislodged one of the boys, who slid all the way underneath her swiveling ass cheeks. It was impossible to tell how much of his tantalizing brushing against her sensitive skin was due to his own pathetic attempts to either regain his perch or escape her panties altogether and how much was just her own locomotion jostling him.
He still hadn’t found a safe repose by the time she reached her car. Neither mercy nor mischief moved Jayne when she dropped her gargantuan ass into the driver’s seat. Her loose passenger ended up mostly under her taint, but at least one of his legs was partially lodged in her crack near her asshole. She gave him a reassuring clench and started the car.
The commute was hellish as usual, but she passed the time listening to a true-crime audiobook. The murderer in this one apparently collected his victim’s hair for a wig. There sure were some sickos in this world.
Jayne kicked off her heels as soon as she entered her condo. She tossed the mail into a basket on the kitchen table, immediately forgotten. She wanted a drink, but she needed to freshen up first.
After she went to her bedroom, hung up her blazer, and shimmied out of her dress, Jayne checked in on her passengers. There had been no detectable movement for most of the drive home, and sure enough, they had all passed out from the heat and pressure. She peeled off her fishnets and placed the four tiny unconscious people in the toe of one stocking, which she then hung from a hook on her closet door. Donning her favorite robe, she headed for the kitchen. Time for wine.
Jayne enjoyed a glass of merlot with her feet up on the couch, scrolling on her phone, teasing herself with distractions. She reheated and demolished a plate of chicken alfredo, along with a second (okay, and a third) glass of wine. When the dishes had been, if not rinsed, at least stacked in the sink, Jayne opened a cupboard and withdrew the colander, but not before considering the salad spinner and chuckling at the possibilities.
Returning to the bedroom, she could tell that her guests had revived, but at her approach they tried to feign unconsciousness. Jayne lifted the stocking off the hook, gave her guests a strong sniff, and affected to be offended at the odor. She lowered the stocking into the colander, inverted the stocking and pinched it by the toe, then tugged upward until all four fakers tumbled out.
Jason and Tiffany abandoned the pretense, but Jayne just ignored them and carried the colander into the bathroom. She reprised her humming as she set the colander in the sink and opened the cold-water tap full-force. She grinned as the tiny prisoners scrambled in vain to escape the chilly deluge. “Wakey, wakey!” she sang.
After almost a minute of inundation and gentle agitation, Jayne shut off the tap and stood over the sink to let her sputtering guests get an eyeful of her in her loungewear. She was wearing nothing but her lilac robe with the peacock print. It was voluminous enough to close around all of her curves, but she rarely closed it tight and now it hung mostly open, brazenly displaying generous portions of her pendulous breasts, jiggling belly, and flabby thighs. The sheer fabric could not obscure the wide extent of her dark bush.
The four shrunken people in her bathroom sink looked up at Jayne with haunted eyes. They had already experienced the implacable mass of Jayne’s body, but they had yet to be introduced to her appetites. As their chests heaved from the cold-water shock, the last hopes of reprieve fled with each breath.
“All clean?” chirped Jayne. “Good.”
Jason started to reply, but Jayne lifted the colander out of the sink, jerking her guests off their feet. She returned to the bedroom and set the colander down on her nightstand. As she sat on the bed, Jason pulled his head and chest above the side of the colander. It was an impressive feat of upper-body strength, and his tiny shoulders glistened with the effort. “Jayne,” he called up, “please don’t do this. It’s not right.”
Jayne tilted her head in delight at the admonition. She plucked Jason from the colander and held him squirming before her face. Damn, he looked fine, she thought.
“Tell you what, Chidi,” she said, “let me try something and then you tell me if you think it’s right or not.” She brought the two-and-a-half-inch-tall man close to her mouth, then held him with two fingers under his arms so his legs dangled freely. Her tongue darted out and curled around his tiny cock and balls.
Jason’s eyes went wide, and she knew she had him. He perked right up, and she gave an encouraging moan. She smiled inwardly when his struggling against her grip transformed into bucking his hips into her lips. Most precious were his tiny grunts as he labored to express his salty tribute into her greedy mouth. Jayne held him away from her face as she smacked her lips. “Mmm,” she purred, “if that was wrong I don’t want to be right.”
Without waiting for a reply, she dunked Jason head-first into her mouth up to his ankles and slathered her tongue over every surface of his body. She could have sucked on that little man all night, but her plan involved all of her guests.
Jayne swiveled her mountainous ass and swung her legs up onto the bed. She leaned back, bent her legs at the knees, and reached down to spread her meaty vulva open. She pulled the now-lubed Jason from her mouth, then worked him wriggling into her cunt.
The tiny people still in the colander gave a collective cry of terror when Jayne turned back to them. She wasted no time snatching up Steve and popping him into her mouth. The little slacker is already hard, she thought. Once he was good and slicked she extracted him and plunged him, too, into her hungry pussy.
The two boys had been teasing her cooch while they had been trapped in her panties, and now she took her revenge. Every squirm or flex by the tiny men in her canal was repaid a hundredfold by her mighty Kegels. Just when she thought she had defeated them, one or both would jerk or push back against her.
With a gratified sigh, Jayne turned back to the nightstand. Amy had tried to make herself unnoticeable in the colander by again curling into a ball like a pill bug, but Jayne was not fooled. She plucked the tiny girl and dropped her onto her outstretched tongue, then rolled her around her cavernous mouth like a lemon drop. Amy’s limbs finally fell loose and Jayne pulled the limp slimy girl out from between her lips.
“My hoochie seems a bit full at the moment,” said Jayne, giving the boys another clench. “Why don’t you try the back?”
Amy’s face paled and she fell into a panicked gibber. “Ohpleaseno, I’ll take a pay cut, I’ll work overtime, I’ll work for free, please just don’t put me in the—”
Jayne smiled and enjoyed Amy’s pitiful pleas until they were cut off when she vanished between Jayne’s planetary ass cheeks. Her sphincter eagerly relaxed to admit the tiny wailing girl as Jayne’s insistent finger shoved her into the dark depths.
Jayne flexed her Kegel muscle and held it, trying to distinguish the individual sensations from each of her pelvic prisoners. She came close to orgasm then, but she exhaled and let it slowly recede. One more ingredient, she thought.
Tiffany had finally thought to try to escape the colander, but she lacked Jason’s (wonderful!) strength and was still clawing at the colander walls. Jayne grabbed the tiny blonde and favored her with an evil look as she opened the drawer of her nightstand and withdrew her Hitachi Magic Wand.
“Have you ever tried one of these, Barbie?” gushed Jayne. “There’s simply nothing better out there.” She placed Tiffany face-down on the vibrator’s head, noting ruefully that it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Tiffany pushed herself up to better view her predicament, but Jayne pressed her tiny crotch back down to the rubber-coated surface.
“Hold on,” said Jayne, and toggled the power switch. Tiffany flew screaming off the wand and down to the bed where she landed on her back between Jayne’s legs. Jayne laughed so hard she forgot to turn the vibrator off before setting it down on the nightstand.
Tiffany had the wind knocked out of her by the fall, so Jayne had plenty of time to recover from the spectacle of Tiffany being launched by the Magic Wand. Eventually Jayne shut the vibrator off and scooped Tiffany up in her hand, bringing her up slowly past her hairy snatch, rolling belly, and monster tits to her devilish face.
Jayne licked her lips and gazed hungrily at Tiffany until the tiny blonde figured it out. “Time for dessert,” said Jayne, tossing Tiffany into her mouth.
She immediately slammed the shrunken woman against her palate with her tongue. She covered Tiffany’s face with the tip of her tongue until her struggles approximated death throes, then let her breathe while she forced her legs apart and ran the crest of her tongue across Tiffany’s pussy and microscopic nipples. You even taste sour you little bitch, thought Jayne.
Finally out of patience, she grabbed the magic wand, pressed it to her clit, and flicked it on. She immediately relaxed all her muscles (other than those holding the wand in place) and let the electric stimuli spread throughout her body. She felt her pulse and respiration align to the rhythm of the vibrations, and she fancied that her four guests conformed to the wand, as well.
The first contraction washed through her pelvis and rippled out through her legs. She convulsed Tiffany back and forth in her mouth, opening her mouth slightly to get more air. The heat started to build in her lower back, and she knew her rectum and vagina must be roiling, crushing furnaces.
Self-consciousness deserted Jayne as the warmth spread up her sides and a series of high-pitched whines or yelps escaped her chest. Only when her throat was clear enough to emit a keening howl did she realize that she must have reflexively swallowed Tiffany. That awareness and the sight of her opulent belly heaving with each wave of constriction released Jayne into her ecstasy.
She had taken these four people—these four corporate liabilities—into her expansive body and transmuted them into glorious joys. She was a goddess and a temple in one, and she gladly accepted their sacrifice.
Jayne once again forgot to shut off the vibrator as her limbs collapsed onto the bedspread, spasms still shaking her weighty frame. For a full minute all she could do was just breathe deeply, her capacious abdomen rising and falling at an ever-slowing pace.
When the heat and shivers had subsided somewhat, Jayne giggled briefly and got up to make her way to the bathroom. Standing with her back to the toilet, she lifted her robe and pulled her ass cheeks apart before sitting down.
A brief jet of gas was all that was necessary to expel Amy’s lifeless body into the cold water. One of the boys tumbled past her pussy lips and down into the bowl. She pushed on her pussy’s other victim, but she couldn’t dislodge him even after she emptied her bladder. Not for the first time, she wondered if she shouldn’t keep one around long enough to help fish the others out. Finally she had to stand slightly and extract him with her fingers. As she sat back down, a loud gurgle emitted from her stomach.
“Not yet, Barbie,” she said, patting her belly. “A few more hours before your turn.”
As she continued her business, Jayne reflected on her future with the firm. With the clarity that only seems to come when seated on the toilet, she decided not to accept the promotion. I’m doing more important work in my current position, she thought. This is where I’m needed.
She then wiped herself thoroughly and flushed.