The Abatement of Kyle Trinter, Chapter 19

The next chapter's finally here, and it's a big one! I'm resuming regular updates of this story, so I'll be posting Chapter 20 here in the next few weeks! <3

Chapter 19

Kyle stood blinking up at Martha, his eyes directly even with the protruding points of her nipples that were pressing out into the tight white fabric of her athletic-wear top.  He heard the stretching polyurethane of her black spandex shorts, impossibly tight on the enormously powerful pillars of her thighs, as Martha shifted her weight to one hip, her voluptuous curves jiggling even with the tiniest movement.  The front door was still open, and Kyle could still see the bright morning sunshine streaming in across the hardwood floor.  He could still see the vibrant green of Martha’s lawn, and the glint of the passing cars on the street…he could still hear the birds singing.

But the promise of a new life, of striding into this bright, happy new world, had suddenly gone dark in Kyle’s eyes, and the inviting sights, sounds, and smells of the outside world now seemed like a cruel mockery in the wake of what Martha had just said.

“I…c-can’t leave…” he heard himself say, staring up at her dark, humorous eyes, “Until I beat you in a…a wrestling match!?”

“Mmmmm I can appreciate how discouraging that might sound to you, Kyle,” Martha hummed, her deep, feminine voice washing over him.  She took a step towards him, and Kyle instinctively backed up, still holding his bags, his hands whitening from how tightly he was now gripping them.  As Martha came closer, and he kept backing up, the bright image of the outside world became completely obfuscated by her huge body.  Now all Kyle could see was the bouncing, quivering flesh of Martha’s thick hips and gigantic breasts as she bore down on him.  

“Because even though you’ve made some VERY impressive progress in your training regimen,” Martha continued, “The simple fact remains that, well…I’m bigger than you.”

THUMP

Kyle realized that he had been backing up the whole time, with Martha steadily keeping pace with his shaky retreat, until he had smacked backwards into the foyer wall.  She loomed over him, all 6’7 of her monumental body casting his 5’2 frame completely in shadow.  Martha’s dark eyes slowly went over Kyle’s body, her eyebrows raising ever so slightly, and Kyle could feel her drinking in the sight of his tininess.  It suddenly didn’t seem to matter that he had gained a few pounds of muscle during the past couple weeks.  The achievements of his “training” dissipated like smoke in the wind when faced with the prospect of going up against HER.  

“MUCH bigger,” Martha added, slowly nodding her head up and down as her smile widened.  Kyle stood like a statue with his back up against the wall, trapped, utterly shrouded in Martha’s shadow, as a deep sense of despair began welling up from inside him.  He dropped his bags on the floor as his heart started speeding up, not in excitement or expectation, but in panic.  He didn’t even consider trying to make a run for it.  Martha was so huge and powerful – and quicker than might have been expected for someone that size – that the likelihood of him escaping past her was zero.  All the fresh, optimistic zeal he had been feeling literally a minute before was now totally gone, turned to dust.  His whole “training program” had been a complete ruse, a sick joke that Martha had devised to play on him, to tease, taunt, and tantalize him with the promise of a normal life, only to snatch it all away from him at the last moment.  Kyle sank as little against the wall, his trembling legs beginning to give way, as he stared forward in despair into the middle of her stomach.  Her colossal breasts menaced him overhead, gently expanding and quivering with her slow, purposeful breaths.  This was it…there was no way out.  He was going to be trapped here forever as her slave, her plaything, her pet.

“Aww now come on, don’t act like that,” Martha cooed, taking a step back so that Kyle wasn’t totally engulfed in her shadow anymore.  The light from the open front door was suddenly shining in his eyes, and as he squinted up into Martha’s face, he saw a kind, sweet smile.

“Of course, you’d never think that I would be so unfair as to make you wrestle me without any…special stipulations,” she continued amiably, before lifting both of her huge arms up into a double-biceps pose.  Martha certainly wasn’t “cut,” but Kyle was under no illusions – there were powerful, fearsomely strong muscles underneath all that immense, tight flesh.

“S-Stipulations!?” Kyle blurted out.  He hadn’t realized how close he had been to crying before he spoke up, but now it was plainly obvious that he was on the verge of tears.  “Wh-what…what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Martha chuckled, “That this isn’t going to be a totally equal wrestling match, you understand?  To win, it’s not like you’re going to have to PIN me or something…hahaha, imagine that, right?”

Kyle didn’t answer.  Of course, the idea of “pinning” Martha was so ludicrous that it wasn’t even worth thinking about, but apparently she was talking about something else.  Kyle watched her closely as she turned and went back to close the front door.  It was crushing to see that beautiful morning vanish behind the heavy door, but Kyle felt something like a glimmer of hope – Martha hadn’t deadbolted the door like she usually did.  And the living room curtains were still wide open, letting the gorgeous light in.  Maybe, just maybe, this was one final, playful little “send-off” from Martha before she let him go.  

“Come on over here, Kyle,” Martha said warmly, gesturing with her huge hand, her long, sharp black nails winking at him in the light as the big silver bracelets on her wrist tinkled out into the air.  He did as she asked, coming into the living room, and saw that she had a camera set up in the corner, pointed directly at the middle of the room.  A large mat had been laid down on the floor, which Kyle hadn’t noticed before.  Cheerfully, Martha strode over and turned the camera on, its red “recording” light flashing, before she resumed her spot in the middle of the room, smiling down at him.

“I can tell you’re worried,” she said empathetically, “But I know when you hear the rules, you’ll breathe a sigh of relief.  I know, I know, I should’ve led with that, but you know me, Kyle…I like to tease you a little bit first, right?”

“R-right…” Kyle replied cautiously.  He really didn’t know where Martha was going with this, but in the bright living room, he could feel the sudden, crushing sense of despair beginning to lift ever so slightly.  He was hoping, desperately hoping, that this “wrestling match” was all a joke.

So it’s really VERY simple,” Martha continued, gesturing to the camera and to Kyle at the same time, almost like she was performing for an audience, “For YOU to win the match, ALL you have to do is knock me off my feet.”

“That’s…it?” Kyle asked, his eyes going up and down her huge body.

“That’s IT,” Martha nodded emphatically, “And you can try and do this by ANY means necessary.  You can punch and kick, you can slap and poke and knee and headbutt…hell, you can even bite me if you need to…anything to just get me off my feet.  And that’s just ONE foot, by the way – if I go down on one knee, with my other foot still on the floor, that counts.  You win.”

Kyle took all this in, slowly nodding.  Weeks before, the prospect of winning such a match was unthinkable.  But he quickly reminded himself that anything would have seemed impossible to him back then.

‘She literally had me in diapers,’ Kyle thought to himself, shuddering at the remembrance, ‘And…’ – his mind trailed off, coming up on a barrier he had placed there.  Flashes of Martha’s wild, hungry eyes went through his brain, as the wet, aggressive sounds of her guttural blowjobs echoed out from his subconscious.  But Kyle had gotten stronger since then…much stronger, both physically and mentally…and he managed to shut it all out before he got hard.  He had work to do.  He was going to leave this house TODAY.  

“Sounds good,” he spoke out loud, hardening his jaw.  All he had to do was make her lose her balance.  He didn’t have to be stronger than her at all – he just had to plan his attack and go for it when the opportunity arose.  He could do this…he really could.

“But, so…” he added, his voice gaining a bit of strength as his stuttering ceased, “What do YOU have to do to win?”  He didn’t want to sound like he was dreading the answer.  Even before the match began, he wanted to project confidence in front of her, and the fact that the camera was recording was an added reminder to conduct himself in a way that he could look back on proudly.  

“Well I’ve made it a lot harder for myself,” Martha answered with a smile, “All you have to do is knock me off my feet…but I DO have to actually make you submit.”

She started counting out the list of things she couldn’t do on her long, strong fingers, as those silver bracelets whispered out with her movements.

“And what’s more, I’m NOT allowed to kick or punch you in any way, or even to slap you or step on you.  I can’t bite you, poke you, headbutt you, body-slam you, butt-slam you, tit-slam you…I can’t do ANY of those.”

Kyle felt his brow furrowing a little.  While it was certainly encouraging to hear Martha list out her self-prohibitions, all this sounded almost too good to be true.  

“So…what CAN you do?” Kyle asked, again trying his best not to sound anxious.

“Well…I can GRAB you,” Martha grinned, sticking out her tongue playfully at him as she bared her huge hands at him like claws, “And once I’ve got you, I can SQUUUEEEEEEZE you until you submit…so you better not let me get ahold of you, because once I’ve got you…I’ve GOT you.”

Her eyes glimmered intensely down at him, and for a moment it was impossible for Kyle not to look afraid.  But he managed to recover himself.

“Alright, so…that’s all you can do, then?” he ventured, “Grab and squeeze me?”

“Heh…pretty much,” Martha chuckled, winking down at him mysteriously, “I mean, there are a couple other ways I can get…creative…but if you don’t let me grab you, then you won’t need to worry about any of them!”

Kyle felt like pressing on and asking Martha exactly what she meant by all that, but he didn’t see a way to do it without sounding like he was terrified of her.  She had laid out the rules plainly enough, and it was obvious that he would have a sizable advantage in pretty much every way, at least as far as the rules went.  

‘You know, considering how much bigger she is,’ he thought to himself, ‘These rules actually make everything pretty even between us!’  He felt his confidence rising, and the next moment, to his own surprise, he was stepping forward, holding his hand outstretched up to Martha, a determined look in his eyes.

“Okay,” he said firmly, determined not to look away from her face, “It’s a deal.”  

Martha paused, regarding him, her smile upturned ever so slightly at the right corner of her mouth.  She looked quite impressed with Kyle’s boldness, determination, and resolve, and she took his hand respectfully in hers, squeezing it firmly, but not too hard, in a civil and courteous handshake.  Even though her hand completely swallowed his up, and was obviously many times stronger, Kyle felt the respect in the handshake pressure.  It was her silent way of telling him: ‘You’ve come so far – you really are ready for this last challenge before you go.’

“Deal,” Martha repeated, shaking his hand, before suddenly letting go and adopting a loud “ringmaster” voice as she began announcing to the camera:

“Laaaaaadies and gennnnntlemen!  Welcome to the main event!  A rip-roaring wrestling extravaganza!  Our contestants today are, first, the young, chipper, new-and-improved Kyle Trrrrinnnnnterrrrrr!  Fresh out of his recent training program, Kyle has said that he is ready to accept the challenge, and knock his much larger opponent off her feet.  That’s ALL he has to do, ladies and gentlemen – he just has to get her to stumble and go down on one knee, and victory is HIS!  But, of course, standing in his way, and determined not to go down too easily, is the one and only, the inimitable Mamaaaaaa Gargantuuuuaaaaa!”

As Martha spread out her huge arms and did a slow turn for the camera, Kyle watched her closely, figuring that she must have just invented her “wrestling” name off the top of her head.  He, of course, knew nothing about her dark and extensive past in the circus.  

“Before these two…heavyweights…go at it,” Martha continued, winking down at Kyle, “A couple things – FIRST, contestants…please change into your official match gear!”

Kyle looked up at Martha, not understanding what she was talking about, but his confusion was answered a moment later when she reached over behind an armchair and brought out a skimpy little black thong, which dangled from her pinkie finger as she shook it down playfully at him.  Kyle balked, and his first instinct was to shake his head.  He knew that thong would make him look absolutely ridiculous.  Martha jiggled her pinkie again, making the thong shake as she continued to grin down at him, bouncing her eyebrows expectantly.  The seconds ticked by, and still Kyle didn’t react; he felt frozen between capitulating to Martha’s silly antics and standing up for himself.  

“I’m sorry,” Martha said suddenly, still in her announcer voice, “I don’t think I was loud enough before – I saiiiiid…CONTESTANTS, please CHANGE…into your official…MATCH…GEAR.”

She was still smiling, but Kyle felt a surge of fear go through him as her dark eyes went cold.  The next moment, without any further thought, he was reaching up to accept the thong.  That cold, deadly look in Martha’s eyes vanished just as soon as it had appeared.

‘Just…easy does it, okay?’ Kyle thought to himself, going into the dining room to change, ‘Give her what she wants right now…play her little game.  This is all just a last hurrah for her, a little parting fun.  There’s no reason to make her angry.’

It was impossible not to feel completely silly in the black thong, which was all he was wearing now, but Kyle steeled himself, feeling a new determination to push through this and come out victorious on the other end.  He folded his “adult” clothes neatly up in a pile and put them on the dining room table, assuring himself that he’d be returning in a few minutes to put them back on.  Coming back into the living room, Martha saw his new outfit and cried out in delight:

“Aaaaand Kyle struts into the ring looking EVERY bit as cut and fit as advertised!  The crowd goes wild!”

Feeling a bit of humorous inspiration, Kyle actually spread his arms out and pretended to accept the accolades from the imaginary crowd, nodding his head cockily as he did so.  This seemed to delight Martha even more, which in turn reinforced Kyle’s conviction that this really was all just one big joke.  His confidence surged, and he started to enjoy the little “roleplay.”

“Now Big Mama G’s gear!” Martha boomed out, and the next moment, she reached up and promptly tore off her white top, which shredded like tissue paper in her bare hands.  A lone black sports bra was now all that contained the immense weight of Martha’s breasts.  Her fleshy stomach jiggled slightly underneath, and her arms and shoulders looked even huger now that they weren’t hiding behind any clothing.  She then reached down and did the same thing to her black spandex shorts, ripping them straight down the middle and letting them fall in a ruined heap at her feet.  Kyle saw that she was wearing a skimpy black thong underneath, just like his, except it was probably about five or six times wider.

“There she is, folks!” Martha called out, shaking her huge ass and gyrating her hips from side to side as she did another spin for the camera, “The gargantuan queen herself!  She’s going to be more than a few handfuls for Mr. Kyle, I can tell you that!”

Kyle watched as Martha slowly turned in a circle for the camera, and his brief joviality was doused by another injection of marked unease.  She was just so…huge, so unbelievably enormous.  Now that they were both in their “official match gear,” with their almost-naked bodies compared next to each other, the prospect of actually making her lose her balance was beginning to seem absurd.  Her body was like a tree trunk compared to his.  

‘I may be smaller than her,’ he thought to himself, trying to galvanize his resolve, ‘But that means I’m quicker too, and I can just…dodge her until I see an opening…and then pounce!  I’ve got this…I’ve got this…’

“And now,” Martha announced, “It’s time for the weight-in!  Contestants, if you please, step up to the scale!”

She gestured for Kyle to walk over with her to the corner of the living room, where there was a scale waiting for them.  Martha indicated for Kyle to step up first, and when the calm blue number blinked back at him later, he was actually pleasantly surprised.

“One hundred THIRTY point THREEEE pounds for Kyle!” Martha sang out, clapping her hands enthusiastically for Kyle as he stepped off, managing a blushing smile up at her.  This was the most he had ever weighed…and while it was impossible to feel too big with Martha standing there, Kyle still felt proud of his progress in training the last few weeks.  Apparently it really had paid off.  But now Martha was stepping on the scale, and Kyle actually heard the sturdy tempered glass groan under her weight.  A few moments later, Martha was announcing out:

“Aaaand THREE hundred twenty NINE pounds, EVEN, for Big Mama G!”

Martha stepped off the scale, faced the camera, and lowered her arms in front of her chest into a “most muscular” pose.  Kyle gasped out.  Despite his resolve not to appear intimidated with the camera rolling, he simply couldn’t help himself.  He had never seen Martha flex like this before, and because she was only wearing a revealing thong and a sports bra, he could see every muscle pumped up.  The sight was astoundingly intimidating.  Her traps seemed to explode on both sides of her neck, twin mountains of muscle that made her look even more fearsome than before.  Her rhomboids and lats suddenly emerged from the smooth, feminine flesh of her back – hard, tensed, and rippling with power.  And her arms…oh god, her arms…Kyle knew that Martha was strong, but he had never seen her biceps pumped up like this, or her triceps, or…her forearms, for that matter, which Kyle stared at and then looked back down to his own legs.  A sinking feeling set in.  There was no doubt – Martha’s forearms alone were thicker than his thighs. 

“Rrrrrraaauuuggghhhh!!” Martha growled out at the camera, her colossal body popping with intimidating muscle.  She strode over to the wrestling mat and did a sauntering lap around it, striking a variety of muscular poses as she stuck her tongue out for the camera, like she was riling up the “crowd” that was watching.  But then she turned to Kyle and winked at him, relaxing her pose before cupping her hand across her mouth and whispering,

“Relax, I’m just kidding around Kyle…it’s for the video, that’s all!”

Kyle managed to nod, and as Martha gave him another warm, humorous smile, he found himself smiling back.  He felt like he had been on such a roller coaster of emotions the last half-hour that it was difficult to know how he truly felt right now, but after he had recovered from the initial shock of seeing Martha’s true muscular potential, her current behavior was putting everything into perspective.  It was all just a game, just an absurd little game – and really, it was all consistent with how things had gone for Kyle inside this house.  Surely it was appropriate to cap off his experience with a silly, surreal little wrestling match, right?

“Okay everyone, the contestants have assumed their places on the mat,” Martha called , concluding her use of the “announcer voice” as she braced herself, “Let the match...BEGIN!”

She began circling the outer edge of the mat, her hands both bared like claws, her gigantic curves bouncing with her catlike movements.  Kyle circled along with her, making sure to keep out of range of those long, powerful arms.  His heart was suddenly beating very fast.  Despite all the silliness, he knew that this was it.  This was his time to shine, to prove that he was ready for the outside world.  

“Oh, and I almost forgot to mention,” Martha added, now speaking in her normal voice to Kyle as she continued to circle, “If you win, then the video currently being recorded will never see the light of day.  But if, on the off chance, I’M the one who wins, then I’ll be posting it online.”

“Wh-what!?” Kyle gasped, pausing briefly in his circling motion, struck still with panic.  “B-But Martha…I…y-you can’t!”

“Don’t be silly, Kyle,” she laughed, “Of course I can!  I know that there are PLENTY of people who would be interested…verrrrry interested…in seeing us go toe-to-toe…especially in these outfits!  But look, out of respect for you, I promise…really Kyle, I promise…that if you win, I’ll delete the video in front of you, before you leave, so that you won’t have anything to worry about.”

Kyle pondered Martha’s words, remaining stationary on the mat, but the next moment he was thrust into action when she made a sudden grab for him.  His endorphins were now pumping furiously as he managed to twist himself out of the way of her grasp, escaping to the opposite side of the mat.  Martha grinned, turning around, making another sudden grab at him.  Once more, Kyle eluded her, a bit easier this time.  Even though Martha was huge, she was moving a bit slower than Kyle had anticipated.  He felt his optimism rising, and he actually started bouncing up on the balls of his feet, keeping on his toes as he pivoted his legs right and left.  

‘Maybe my training really has paid off!’ he thought to himself, and then he spoke up, flush with renewed vigor:

“Okay Martha,” he said out loud, taking care to puff his chest out so he could project his voice to its fullest extent, “I’ll hold you to that.”

For a brief second, Martha seemed to stop in her circling motion, and her hand went up to her mouth.  Kyle at first couldn’t tell what she was doing, but then he realized, from her reddening face and the subtle, bouncing jiggle of her body, that she was trying to suppress a laugh.  He felt a fierce determination rise up in him, a defiant desire to show her that he was not to be laughed at.  Gone was the thought that this was just a play-wrestling match.  He was going to prove to Martha that he could beat her.  Now it was his turn to launch an attack.  He faked a sudden motion to the left, and then quickly pivoted and ran to the right, going straight for Martha’s left leg.  He tried to catch her foot under his and trip her, but when they locked feet, Kyle realized that her leg wasn’t budging.  It shot through his mind that he may as well have been trying to trip a solid, towering block of concrete.  He barely had time to recover as he got out of the way of Martha’s swooping hand, jumping back up as he bounced around her, trying to figure out his next plan of attack.  

“Going in for the sneak attack, huh?” Martha teased, turning around and slowly advancing on him, her huge hands bared in that familiar, intimidating “claw” pose.  Her long, sharp black fingernails just made her fingers look even longer, and that much more predatory, and as she tensed and wiggled her fingers, he saw the muscles and tendons in her forearms pull and flex.  

“Very bold of you, Kyle…very cheeky,” Martha continued, getting closer.  Kyle was bouncing backward, away from her, but she just kept coming on, narrowing the distance between them more and more.  Kyle knew that he really had to be careful here.

“Although I think maybe you should worry less about attack,” smirked Martha, “And more about…DEFENSE!”

Her huge arm suddenly shot down at him, right as she simultaneously stepped forward in an abrupt charge, and Kyle felt the hot vice grip of Martha’s hand wrap around his upper arm, encircling it completely.  He cried out in alarm, desperately trying to free himself, but the next moment his other arm was identically captive.  Before he could blink, he felt his feet jerk up off the floor, his organs all squashing together from the abrupt movement, and he felt two huge, warm, python-like arms wrap around his torso, hugging him tightly.  The weighty squish of Martha’s breasts pressed into his back, bulging out beyond both sides of his body, and the next thing he knew, Kyle was staring straight into the camera, with Martha’s huge face beside his, so close that he could feel the flex of her cheek as she grinned.

“Gotcha,” she whispered in his ear, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark.  “What’re you gonna do, Kyle?”

“Urrrrrggghhhh!!” Kyle grunted, shutting his eyes tightly as he pushed and heaved with all his might to extract himself from Martha’s iron grip, but it only took a few seconds of “struggling” to realize that he didn’t have a chance in the world at getting out.  He had been fighting with all his might, but he hadn’t so much as BUDGED Martha’s grip.  It was like he wasn’t even making any effort at all.  

For a full minute, Martha held him there, letting him grunt and groan and whine through a series of pathetic, fruitless struggles to move her arms, all the while smirking at him with her head turned, her dark eyes locked onto his face.  His feet were dangling helplessly in midair around her knees.  And then, without saying anything, she started increasing the pressure of her forearms around his torso, beginning to squeeze.  

“No!  No, no please!” Kyle choked out, now in full panic mode as he feverishly tried to kick back at her.  But Martha easily caught both of his legs up in the crook of her thigh, and pinned them to her front.  He couldn’t kick, he couldn’t move his arms…he couldn’t even wiggle his body one iota.  And still Martha continued to tighten her arms around him.  Kyle wasn’t even thinking about losing now – he was suddenly thinking only of his own survival.  He opened his mouth to submit, but was horrified to find that nothing came out.  Martha was squeezing him so hard that he couldn’t even make a sound.  Kyle gaped straight into the camera, his mind beginning to petrify as Martha’s living room swam before his eyes.  He couldn’t believe it – he had been flush with confidence, even enjoying the fun final challenge of this silly little “wrestling match,” and now…Martha was literally squeezing the life out of him.  She’d never let him go…never…

Just when Kyle’s eyes began to roll back into his head, he found himself tumbling down onto the mat, his head lolling forward unpleasantly as his forehead smacked into the firm surface.  Martha’s laughter echoed in his ears as he supported himself shakily on all fours, his face down as he coughed loudly and heaved strange-sounding, wheezing breaths.  

“Come on, Kyle!” Martha boomed humorously, high above him, “You let me get too close!  I told you to be careful…”

Kyle managed to struggle back up to his feet as the living room came back into focus.  Martha loomed before him, her huge arms crossed in front of her chest, her face alive with mirth.  He felt a glimmer of some kind of hope – Martha didn’t have that “crazy” look in her eye.  She just looked amused and entertained.  Maybe this really was just her “last hurrah” before she finally let him walk free.

“All right, all right,” she giggled, seeming to confirm Kyle’s hopes as she un-crossed her arms and once more assumed her “wrestling” stance, “Let’s go again – I’ll give you another shot, Kyle.  Must’ve caught you a bit by surprise, huh?”

“Y-yeah, a…a little,” he replied, taking a deep breath.  She was already circling him again, so he quickly moved to the outer edge of the mat to put some distance between them.  His arms and legs felt a bit wobbly, but after another few seconds of pivoting and flexing, he could feel the life flowing back into them.  He felt his resolve harden again.  ‘Okay,’ he thought to himself, steeling his nerves in preparation, ‘She obviously just wants to have another laugh or two before she lets me go…otherwise she would’ve let me submit there and she would’ve won…it’s okay, really, it’s all gonna be okay…she just wants me to show what I can do…fine…I’ll show her!’

Seized by a sudden onrush of inspiration, Kyle saw that Martha, in her playfulness, was leaning slightly to the side, on her right leg, which meant that her left leg wasn’t firmly positioned on the mat.  It was now or never.  Kyle went for it, diving at her leg, with the intention of wrapping his arms and legs around it and dragging it down.  All he had to do was get her down on one knee, and he would win.  This was it – he had caught her off-guard!  He found himself, unopposed, wrapping his arms and legs around the huge meat of Martha’s thigh.  He jerked himself downward toward the mat, expecting to feel her leg give way.  But nothing happened.  Nothing moved.  A second later, Kyle realized that he was in midair, hanging off Martha’s leg, vainly trying to tug it downward.  He may as well have been trying to uproot a large oak tree.  The silver bracelets on her wrists tinkled out into the air mockingly as Martha put her hands on her hips.  Kyle swallowed as he looked up and saw her peering down at him over the double cliffs of her boobs.

“Aww, really?” she chuckled, and the next moment, without giving Kyle any chance to react, Martha had swiftly bent down and seized him by the legs, her huge hands easily wrapping all the way around both ankles as she hoisted him up into the air.  There was no way Kyle could have kept holding onto her thigh, not when faced with that kind of strength.  Before he knew what was happening, he found himself hanging upside down, again in front of the camera, as Martha gleefully shook his legs.  It didn’t matter that he was trying to kick out of her grip; when faced with the strength in her arms, his legs were nothing in comparison.  

“Look at that!” laughed Martha to the camera, “Like my own little marionette!  Laaa deee daaaa deeee daaaaaaaa!”  

She sang out nonsense as she “walked” Kyle around, upside down, showing how utterly she could control him.  

“Is it any wonder that I can do this?” she continued, still talking to the camera, “Look at my arms compared to his legs!  My wrists are thicker than his calves…mmmmm, and my forearms?  You think his thighs are touching THESE?”

She was suddenly dangling him from ONE hand now, as she slapped her huge forearm up against his thigh, showing the comparison to the camera.  Kyle couldn’t exactly see the comparison, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before.  All those repressed memories of the weeks prior began to flood back into his mind, and he felt the strength and resolve beginning to drain out of him.  But no…NO!  He wouldn’t go down without a fight.  He wouldn’t let Martha play him like this!  Even if it WAS just her idea of a funny little parting shot, he wasn’t going to suffer the humiliation.  He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.  

“Wuuuaaaghhhh!” he cried, kicking with all his might.  Nothing seemed to happen, though, and so he just kicked even harder.  Still nothing.  What was going on!?  The rumble of Martha’s laughter coiled around him, and, managing to glance upward, Kyle realized that she had been pistoning his legs with her arms, in exact rhythm with his kicking motions, so that all he was doing was “kicking” in place, upside down.  

“Is that really all you have?” Martha teased, roughly tossing him back down on the mat as she “dusted off” her hands, “Seriously, Kyle, I thought I had trained you better than that!  Come on, all you have to do is bring me down to a knee, and you win!”

Kyle sprang back up, now truly angry.  He knew that Martha was just playing around with him now, and that this was her way of humiliating him before he left.  Before, he might have felt miffed, and even a little deflated, that she was bullying him like this, but now…well, he wasn’t some poor, confused boy in diapers anymore.  He was a MAN now, and he wasn’t going to stand for this kind of treatment any longer.  

“Therrrre it is,” Martha hummed, nodding her head up and down slowly.  She wasn’t even bothering to assume the “wrestling” stance anymore.  She was just standing there with one hand on her hip, amusedly grinning down at him, mocking, gloating…exulting.  “I’ve really got you all worked up now, huh, Kyle?”

He couldn’t answer her.  How could he possibly respond to her derisive, sarcastic tone without continuing to feed into her sick little game?  He thought about dropping the whole act, retrieving his clothes, picking up his bags, and storming out, but he knew, without giving that idea an instant more thought, that Martha wouldn’t let him leave.  This may have been a “game,” but her games had real rules.  There was no way out of this – no way other than knocking her off her feet.  Kyle gritted his teeth and started circling her again, trying to find a weak point.  

But now Martha truly cut loose.  She wasn’t even pretending to “wrestle” him anymore.  Simply stepping forward, not even moving with rushed or hurried motions, she reached her arm down, her huge hand opened wide.  Before Kyle could react, his upper arm was completely trapped in a vicelike grip many, many times stronger than anything he was capable of.  In that split second, Kyle was painfully aware that, if she had wanted to, Martha could have snapped his arm like a twig.  He couldn’t dwell on this terrifying thought, though, and the next moment he was struggling madly in her grip, trying desperately to free himself.  But Martha just wrapped her other hand around his opposite arm, and the next thing Kyle knew, he was back in front of the camera, tightly held next to Martha’s beaming face, her hands wrapped all the way around his biceps, with plenty of room to spare.

“Isn’t he just the CUTEST thing you’ve ever SEEN!?” Martha cried out to the camera, shaking Kyle left and right in a kind of humiliating, captive dance.  “He’s just so precccciiousssss, oh my GOODNESS…it just makes me want to –”

MWAH

Kyle shuddered as he felt Martha’s big, warm lips press into the side of his cheek, nearly covering the entire side of his face in a huge kiss that nearly took his breath away.  Martha pulled off him, and Kyle saw, in the reflection of a mirror behind the camera, that he had another large red lipstick mark on his cheek.  A spark of that old sickening feeling flared up again in his groin, the searingly helpless arousal that he had been trying to bury for so long, and he felt himself beginning to get hard again.  She was just so incredibly huge compared to him – a monster…a titan…a hulking, dominant force that he had no chance of overcoming.  Her body simply swallowed his up, and now that his situation was beginning to seem more and more hopeless, Kyle could feel his cock responding.  This only made him angrier and more desperate, and once more he tried to struggle out of her grasp.  But Martha only tightened her grip, preventing him from moving, as she continued to cover him with kisses.

“Mwah…Mwah!!  Just the…Mwah…the cutest…Mwah…little…MwahMwah…tiny…Mwah…thing…MwahMwah…in the whole…Mwah…entire…MwahMwah…worrrrllllddd!  MWAHMWAHMWAH!”

For minutes on end, Martha smothered Kyle with her lips, kissing him over and over and over again, all over his face, then moving to his neck, then all down his chest and back and lower torso, then his arms and legs, and then finally, two very large, long, extra-suctiony kisses directly on his ass and in the middle of his crotch.  Whenever Kyle tried to complain or cry out, Martha simply kissed him on the mouth, not giving him any air until he quieted down.  Several times she re-applied her bright red lipstick, just so she could keep leaving kiss marks.  After five minutes were past, Kyle was completely covered with the huge, red, fleshy imprints of Martha’s lips.  He was rock-hard, much to his embarrassment, and even worse, he could feel his strength and endurance beginning to seep away.  It all seemed so pointless when measured against Martha.  What on earth had he been thinking before?  That he could defeat her?  Knock her off her feet!?  He didn’t have a chance in the world.  He couldn’t even BUDGE her.

“Don’t go soft on me, big boy!” Martha suddenly thundered, roughly tossing him back down onto the mat as she towered over him, her arms raised in an intimidating double-biceps pose, “I could feel you giving up just now!  Come on!!  I really want you to try, Kyle!  BEAT ME!!”

“M-Martha…I…” Kyle panted, rising up to his feet again.  He knew he looked utterly ridiculous at this point: covered in kiss marks, wearing that stupid thong, which was now being tented by his erection…it was all such a farce, such a disgusting joke.  He was ready to be done with it all and move on.  

“Y-You’ve made your point…okay?” Kyle continued, his face reddening.  That was it…of course that was it.  She just wanted to humiliate him one last time before he left.  All that “training” had been a bunch of bullshit…it had all been part of her little game to send him off with her on top, as a reminder to him of what had happened.  She really was such a sick, messed-up woman, and Kyle needed to be rid of her.  

“Point?” Martha smiled down at him, blinking, “What point, Kyle?  I don’t know what you mean.”

“Th-that…that you’re bigger and…and stronger than me,” he replied, “I get it, all right?  I admit it!  Can I…can I just go now!?”

“I made this match even, just for you!” Martha exclaimed, feigning indignance, “You don’t have to make me submit, Kyle!  Just knock me down!!  Come on!!  Are you really that weak that you can’t even make me go down on one knee!?”

Kyle suddenly shot forward, but this time he wasn’t going for Martha’s leg.  He was headed straight for the front door.  He didn’t care about his bags anymore.  He didn’t care that he was about to run out into the world in a ridiculous thong, with an erection, and covered in kiss marks.  None of that mattered.  He just needed to escape HER.  

He only got three steps off that mat, though, before he found himself whirling through the air.  It wasn’t immediately clear to him what was happening, but a moment later he realized that Martha had snatched him up off the floor and was now twirling him around and around, high over her head, in a helicopter motion.

“Weeeeeeeeee!!” she squealed out, like she was playing with a kid, spinning and whirling him around faster and faster as she laughed at the camera.  “Look everyone – I’ve got my own makeshift helicopter!  All you need are big muscles and a verrrrrry small little boy, and…voila!  You’ve got liftoff!  Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!”

Martha buzzed her lips loudly as she spun Kyle in a blur over her head.  He was hopelessly dizzy in a matter of seconds, and, after a minute or so, he started to feel sick.  But Martha just kept spinning and spinning him, her laughter echoing in his ears, and when she finally put him back down on the mat, Kyle was so dizzy that he couldn’t even stand up.  He collapsed in a heap, shutting his eyes as he tried to recover himself.  

But the recovery would never happen.  Before he could even catch his breath, Martha had dropped down into a cross-legged sitting position on the mat and scooped Kyle’s body into her lap, with his face staring up into hers.  The whole world was still swimming before Kyle’s eyes as his brain tried to handle all the dizziness.  He felt the powerful heat of her thighs underneath him, and could barely see the splotch of her face as it peered down at him over the edge of her plush, jutting boobs, which were squishing down into his midsection.  His heart was hammering away in his chest.  Maybe this was it, the last humiliating ritual, whatever it would be, that Martha would perform before she finally let him go.

“Big Mama G’s got him on the ropes!” Martha sang out to the camera in her “announcer” voice, “Wave after wave of attack has Kyle cross-eyed and disoriented!  Uh-ohhhh, folks!  She’s got her claws out, and her hand is going down!  He’s ripe for Mama G’s signature finishing move: the Tickle Monsterrrrr!!!”

Kyle’s nerves were suddenly firing off crazily as Martha brought her hand down and started tickling his exposed, bare stomach.  At the same time, she used her legs and her other arm to hold him fast in place, so that he couldn’t escape, couldn’t struggle…couldn’t move.  All he could do was lie there in her lap, suffering under the torment of Martha’s cruel black claws.  The sensations were intolerable, and he quickly opened up his mouth to submit, but again, no sound came out.  His chest was seized up with the intensity of what was happening, and he couldn’t even make a noise.  Faster and faster Martha went, her dark eyes gleaming down at him.  The seconds turned into minutes, and they all passed quietly by, with the only sound in the room being the cold-blooded tinkle of Martha’s silver bracelets as she went at it.  Every nerve in Kyle’s body was on fire, and he could feel his mind beginning to melt away from the intensity of Martha’s onslaught.  But he still couldn’t find the air to submit.  Every bit of oxygen had to be gulped down to keep from passing out.  She wasn’t giving him a chance.

Finally, Kyle’s body broke down completely, and he wet himself.  Martha burst out laughing, her bracelets seeming to join in her mirth, as she exclaimed to the camera:

“Oh my, the challenger just pissed himself!  Should we take that as a surrender, folks?  I don’t knowwwwww….”

She went on for another full minute before she finally let up, and Kyle immediately screamed out, in a strange-sounding, bizarre, high-pitched sob:

“I submihihihihihihitttttt!!  I g-give upppppppppp!!!”

“Of course you do,” snarled Martha in his ear, and she caught him up in a crushing embrace, whisking him out the supine position on her lap and sitting him firmly on her knee, so that she was staring straight into his eyes.  Gone was the warm, kind, friendly, expression that had been on her face for the past two weeks.  This was Martha as Kyle had known her before…Martha with her mask off.  Her full lips were curled up in a cruel smile, her cheeks were hardened, and her black eyes were glimmering twin portals to a new kind of hell.

“I was never going to let you go,” Martha continued, her voice almost trembling from the viciousness of her excitement, “NEVER!  All that training, all that “hard work” I was putting you through…of course it was all just a game, Kyle.  Just entertainment for me.  Because did you REALLY think…even for an instant…that you had ANY shot of beating me!?  Of making me fall down!?  Of MOVING ME!?!  Look at your arms, Kyle!  LOOK at them!  They’re tiny little twigs!  I could split them in half with my FINGERS if I wanted to.  And your legs?  Don’t even get me started.  I could SPINTER them with my hands.  I could snap your spine in half without even breaking a sweat.  You are so PUNY, Kyle…so small and weak and pathetic…that I could barely even BELIEVE it when I first saw you.  I can barely even believe it NOW.  You are such a miserable excuse for a human being, a totally useless little runt who has no purpose, no worth, NOTHING to offer.  It’s really something.  I didn’t even know there WERE people like you…until I met you!”

She tightened her huge arm around Kyle as she kept him sitting there in her lap.  Kyle couldn’t even see anymore through the tears that had started to pool in his eyes.  But he could still hear everything, crystal-clear.  

“Look at you, blubbering like the worthless little bitch that you are,” Martha kept on, her voice twisting inside him like a white-hot knife, “Absolutely pathetic.  And you had the audacity…the GALL…to believe that you could somehow make it in the outside world?  Oh my goodness.  What else can I do but laugh!?  You have NO shot, Kyle.  NO chance.  You’re so tiny and weak that anyone who’s being honest would say that you’re not just pathetic.  It’s not just that you’re physically frail and mentally stunted.  You’re an AFFRONT to humanity.  You as an adult out in the world would be an INSULT to the species.  And, you know, Kyle…if I didn’t think that you made such an ADORABLE little baby, I wouldn’t waste any more time with you.  I’d kill you right now.  You’re such a waste of oxygen that any breathing creature would be thanking me afterward.”

She started petting Kyle lovingly, her huge, warm hand going over his bare body, which was now being racked by heaving, silent sobs.

“That’s why you’re EXTREMELY lucky, Kyle…or should I say…Kyla…your REAL name…you’re extremely lucky, KYLA, that you have such a big, strong M*mmy to take care of you.  Mmmmm, that’s right, Kyla, thaaaat’s right.  Cry it out.  Get it all out.  I had to break you down like this, baby…I had to give it to you straight.  You had to hear the truth.  And now that you’ve heard it, we can both just forget about all that “adult” stuff.  It’s not right for my little baby to be thinking about that kind of thing.  Here sweetheart, here…have some of Big G’s milk, hrmmm?  There we go…theeeeere we go…right where you belong.”

Martha cooed sweet nothings into Kyle’s ear as she breastfed him, and he sucked it all down, filling his belly, utterly broken in mind, body, and spirit.  He was too far gone to notice that Martha had looked up from her tender ministrations and was now staring out the window.  Across the street, peering through her binoculars in her parked rental car, Laura felt her blood run cold.  Martha was staring straight at her.