Your therapist sits across the room from you, shapely legs crossed, thighs wrapped in a tight black skirt. She invites you to sit down, rocking one spiked heel idly. “We’ve been talking for a few weeks now,” she says, “and you consistently stress and talk about this giantess Eat fetish that you have.” She sighs unhappily and regards you with disappointment. “I’ve given you all the tools I can think of to get over this addiction, and at every opportunity you’ve ignored those suggestions. Why do you think that is?” What can you say? The greatest thing in the world is to slip into a beautiful woman’s hot, wet, pink mouth and have her roll you around before… oh no, you got distracted! What’s your therapist saying? “If I can be blunt, I notice that you’ve also been showing quite a bit of transference. That’s when the client starts having feelings for the therapist.” Can she read your mind? She holds up a small black device. “So, I’m going to do something that no therapist should ever do: I’m going to enable you, right now, with this. I’m going to shrink you.” She smirks and studies your reaction. “Is that what you really want?” Is she kidding? This is a dream come true! “Before I do this,” she adds, “let me tell you: when you get shrunk, I’m going to eat you.” Before you can say a word, she points the device at you and activates it. Amazingly, the couch you’re resting on grows huge, everything in the room zooms farther away! But the sultry therapist only looms over you, laughing at your condition. “I suppose I should give you a view… before you never have one again.” She peels off her blouse and proffers her tits to you. “I could Cru.sh you here, if I wanted.” She unzips her skirt and bends over, her massive, round rear swaying just above you. “Or I could Cru.sh you here, if I wanted to.” But that’s not how this goes: she crouches down on the end of the couch and makes you walk over to her. You crawl up her pink, twitching tongue, and she rocks you back and forth between her teeth, drenching you in her saliva! Her glistening throat flexes inches away from your tiny body. Her breath and her laughter roar around you. Your therapist plays with you inside her mouth, until suddenly… down you go! “Just like a pill,” she laughs. She stretches out on the couch and writhes pleasantly, moaning and laughing to your struggles, until it’s time to get dressed for her next client. So much for you, little man, on to the next guy!
