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Miss Vivian, my private tutor, rustles her silk blouse, filling the air as she approaches my desk. She leans in to scrutinize my paper, her perfume enveloping me in a sweet, floral cloud. Her cleavage, framed by the delicate lace of her blouse, is mere inches from my face. I stare, transfixed by the subtle shadows cast by her curves, as she muses aloud about the confusing nature of the question. She lifts the paper to her face, her eyes scanning the words, and my cheek is almost brushing against her soft skin.
Suddenly, her posture stiffens. She clears her throat, a sharp, abrupt sound that cuts through the quiet room. Her hand, manicured nails gleaming, rests on her hip as she looks down at me, her eyes narrowing as she catches my gaze. She snaps her fingers, and the world blinks out.
When my eyes flutter open again, I'm greeted by the plush couch cushions. Her blouse is rumpled, the top buttons undone to reveal more of her ample cleavage. Her voice, smooth as honey, explains that she's seen my wandering eyes, that she can't have me tarnishing her stellar reputation. She has a plan, she says, her breath hot on my ear. She's going to inundate me with what I crave, bring me so close to her perfection that I'll learn to focus beyond it.
She plucks me from the couch, her fingers gentle yet firm around my shrunken form. I'm deposited into her cleavage, a valley of soft, smooth skin. She orders me to admire her, to take in every detail. Her skin is flawless, like fresh cream, and her scent is arousing. She shifts, her breasts parting just enough for her to tuck me between them. They press against me, warm and heavy, as she laughs, a low, sultry sound that vibrates through her chest.
Miss Vivian moves to the floor, her body poised above me on her hands and knees. She teases me, her breasts swaying just out of reach. Then, with a mischievous grin, she lowers herself onto her forearms, her breasts looming above me like twin moons. She feigns fatigue, her body trembling slightly as her breasts descend, inch by agonizing inch, until they envelop me completely. Her voice is laced with amusement as she asks if her breasts are too much for me, if I can even breathe beneath their weight.
She pushes up, her body rising above me once more. Her breasts hover, a promise, a threat, before she descends again, laughing as she smothers me. She flexes her arms, her biceps curling around me, crushing me against her firm, smooth skin. Her blouse is discarded, left to pool on the floor as she presses me to her bare chest. Her skin is hot, her breasts even softer than I imagined. She explores with me, her fingers guiding me along her collarbone, her throat, before plunging me back into her cleavage.
Finally, she cradles me in her hands, bringing me up to her face. Her eyes, a vivid green, sparkle with amusement and something darker, more intense. She talks of future lessons, of plans she has for me. But my eyes drift downwards, drawn to the curves of her breasts like a moth to a flame. She sighs, a sound of mock exasperation, and declares me a hopeless case. If I won't be a good student, she says, her voice a low purr, then I'll be her cleavage slave. And with that, she plunges me back into her cleavage, her laughter ringing in my ears as the world goes dark once more.
Keywords Miss Vivian, Media Impact, Shrinking, Erotic, Hand Held, Cleavage, Close Up, Blouse, Bra, Giant Teacher, Giantess
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