It was too far back to the department store. Someone would see him. Andrew looked in the house and didn’t see anyone. “Let’s hope that no one in this neighborhood locks their doors,” he groaned, his breasts sloshing to and fro.
The doors were locked, but the basement window wasn’t. Andrew slipped his feet through but his chest got caught. He tried to wiggle out, but his bosoms were wedged in tight, and his feet didn’t even touch the basement floor. He could feel the juice oozing from his nipples, but it wasn’t coming out fast enough to me his boobs smaller.
“The corset!” if the corset was squeezing the juice into his tits, maybe loosening it would let it flow back into his belly.
He fumbled at the laces, but they were knotted too tightly. The salesgirl had done her work well. The more he pulled, the tighter and tighter they got.
“No, please! I don’t want to be stuck forever,” he sobbed.
Suddenly something knocked the wind out of Andrew; a pair of tiny feet slammed down on his tits. Someone was standing on top of him, and all of that pressure pushed the juice back down, through Andrew’s tiny waist, and into his growing ass. His tits deflated, and Andrew slowly plopped down on his jiggly, spherical butt.
“Be down in a minute!” said a voice from outside. He tried to run, but his feet only flailed. His thighs and ass were too big to stand, much less walk.
The cellar door slammed. Feet bounded down the stairs, then hesitated. “Are you one of them blue boys?”
A pair of big blue eyes peered around the corner. She was Andrew’s age, wearing a green dress. Her long, stringy hair hung down around her freckled face. She caught a look at Andrew’s crotch, bulging under his skin-tight pants.
“Oh, uh…I guess you are!”