Fundamental Allure

By Aborigen

Sex-hungry Caleb is great with women and always seeking a new thrill. When he obtains a pill that will shrink him down, the only woman he wants for his giantess lover is Verna, the ex-girlfriend he cheated on... several times. Verna despises Caleb but misses their intimacy and decides to use him for one more night of magic. All he has to do is treat her right, agree to her conditions and keep his word. If Caleb is unable to do this, in the pursuit of his thrills, he may find himself at the mercy of a very large and vengeful scorned lover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aborigen
• Release date: Jan 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311386557

Aborigen

Aborigen has been a Size Erotica and Size Fantasy writer ever since his first keyword search for “giantess” in 1993, harboring a love of giant women and a sympathy for tiny men all his life. Over three decades he has become well-known within the GTS community, with over 300 short stories and series uploaded to his blog and various online forums. He hosted a popular flash fiction writing contest for four years, inspiring Size writers around the world to produce and refine their work. Aborigen’s stories explore themes of power, morality, and relationships, examining all forms of “othering” through size differential. His dedication to his craft and his willingness to push the boundaries of the genre make him a distinctive voice in the world of Size Erotica.

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Fundamental Allure

By Aborigen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 Aborigen

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https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/aborigen

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Caleb Lyons hunched on an iron chair outside Betelmoose Cafe, in the campus town of Franklin College. The sun shone on his long, sandy hair and warmed his breezy Cuban shirt. On the table before him, a small cappuccino stood untouched and a smartphone lay sleeping. Caleb took yet another long, deep breath and expelled it into the summer atmosphere.

Around him, the sun also shone upon gleaming white SUVs piloted by oblivious drivers yapping on their iPhones. It beat down upon cyclists, leaping on and off the sidewalks, weaving through traffic with total disregard for anyone else. It likewise glowed upon the tanned shoulders of a platoon of young women. Their uniform was an athletic tank, hair wadded up on the tops of their skulls, pastel foam mats off-gassing across their spines, and semi-opaque black yoga pants hemmed anywhere from mid-thigh to ankle. These women captured Caleb's attention, trotting from studio to cafe to apartment, leaving nothing in their taut, curvy bodies to the imagination.

On any other day he'd be approaching any of them, striking up an awkward conversation that led to a casual outing for a snack or a drink. This would be followed by a visit to his apartment or theirs, and inevitably it would round out with protracted and wholly sincere fucking. Caleb's gift of the gab bordered on the supernatural: this lanky, average-looking guy could talk any woman into bed. Because of this, he was always casual and comfortable with himself, which put women at ease. A more desperate man would have scared off a potential mate in the first five minutes.

Caleb woke up his smartphone for the dozenth time. Promptly, it displayed a woman's face and name.

One side effect of his ability was the destruction of a three-year relationship with this woman on his phone. He had felt his gift should not be squandered on one person, and he continued his reckless pursuits with random women when he was supposedly committed. It was one thing to talk his way out of conflict with a couple of spurned and used lovers. That was nothing, that was easy. It was something else entirely to receive the wrath of Verna Montgomery, his ex. This was not just because her working vocabulary seemed to triple when she was furious. He had weathered that more than a few times. No, what truly injured him was realizing, long after their dissolution, that he had actually loved her and thrown her away.

Caleb tossed the phone to the table with a hollow clang. He made another start at the cappuccino, raised it to his lips just as two women stopped by his table and began to chat. One of them had a bulging little cannonball butt, and through her strained yoga pants he could just perceive a purple thong winding over her hips and disappearing into that fierce little crack of hers. The cappuccino was replaced to the table, absently, yet untasted, as he locked his gaze on the unknown woman's ass and let his mind roam free.

It was no good. Delicious as it looked, it was not as well-shaped as Verna's. It was smaller and ponier, which was fine, but it wasn’t half the size of Verna’s. And likely its owner lacked the wild creativity and appetite that characterized Verna. Caleb swore under his breath, shook his head and looked away, wondering what the hell had become of him.

In his pocket there was a small foil blister pack that contained two pills. Both were powder blue, but one was an oval tab and the other was a tiny cube, smaller than a grain of rock salt. These particular pills had taken forever to find, cost him an arm and a leg, and had been obtained specifically for use in Verna's company.

The conversation beside his table became more animated, and the woman's fierce little bubble-butt began to shudder and sway enticingly. Get the fuck out of here, he muttered below his breath, and he snatched up his smartphone in irritation: he needed Verna. No one else would do, not for what he had in mind... not for anything. He missed their sex, and if he was completely honest with himself, he missed her company above all.

Something in the girls' conversation made the yoga woman's butt clench, just at that moment. She raised to her toes: her calves tensed, as did her perfect ass; she may even have glanced over her shoulder at Caleb, with just the shade of a smile. It was difficult to tell for sure. Then both girls scattered like antelope when Caleb brusquely ambled out of his iron chair, hurled his pristine cappuccino into a nearby trash can, and stalked down the sidewalk on this perfect summer afternoon, thumbing the green Call button.

* * *

Out of all the people in the world, Verna was not expecting to see the name that popped up on her phone.

She was sitting in her office at the time, surrounded by coworkers. That was the only reason she didn’t express herself freely at this surprise. As her phone vibrated in her palm, she read and reread Caleb's name in disbelief. She pursed her lips, took a deep breath, snorted it out of her nostrils in a long stream.

Caleb Lyons. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or kill someone, and she knew if she started either she wouldn't be able to stop.

The fuck do you want, fool, she hissed after chasing everyone out and closing her door. You've got some nerve calling me at the office—no, calling me at all. You know what? You have five goddamned seconds to say what you have to say before I hang up, delete your number, and take the afternoon off to file a restraining order.

Verna listened to her phone, and the five seconds doubled, then tripled. She stared at a fixed point in middle space, unblinking, listening to her ex-boyfriend and the greatest lover she'd ever known speak as rapidly as he could. As two minutes of apologies and incomprehensible explanation, she dropped into her chair and leaned back, shaking her head.

You still got your gift, she allowed him. Someone should do the world a favor and chop off your dick, so you can pursue a gainful career in politics. You'd be unstoppable if you could redirect all that motivation from your crotch into social causes.

Caleb continued talking. She rested her elbows on her desk, cupped her forehead in her palm, and closed her eyes. Yes, she remembered their past together; what she felt about it was none of his damned business. That's good, it was very good that he knew what he did wrong, but it didn't do a damned bit of—... Of course, she could admit they were great together, but did he appreciate that when he threw it all away to chase some cheap tail? No, he did not. Not the first time and not the next five times. And what kind of idiot, what kind of record-breaking fool would she have to be to welcome him back?

Yet she was listening too long to him, she knew. Someone knocked on her door, and she looked up to see an accountant leaning in her window, smiling and proffering a couple sheets of paper. Verna summoned a businesslike grin to her face and pointed at her phone, then gestured she'd get back to him in five. The accountant smiled apologetically and withdrew.

How long had she been on the phone with Caleb, that low-down, shameless, son-of-a-whore? He was doing it again. Fuck if Caleb wasn't doing it again to her.

The fact was, she did miss him... aspects of him. She missed their amazing, unfettered sexual exploits: anything she wanted to try, he was up for, and they’d do it well together. Caleb knew his way around a pussy, too, that was undeniable. He could go all night long, wake up the next morning for another round, and finish it off with what he said was his family's