Serena and Kian (S3CS3)

Serena and Kian

by Saint Limey

Read Time: 18 mins

Something was wrong with Kian’s mood.

Her relationship with Serena was heating up. They spent more time together on dates—dinner, lunch, and even breakfast dates, usually at one of three of their favorite restaurants but also at one of their places. Serena had a nice patio for picnics. Kian liked low-effort picnic food. They fit one another.

And naturally, chemistry led them to the bedroom where they rolled about in thoroughly satisfying bouts of sex without missing a single night.

Just hit their thirty-day streak—with an extra round or two to celebrate said fact.

On the outside, it was the same story: extreme, almost brash chemistry. On said dates, when they were in public, Serena wouldn’t shy from using Kian as a seat, stroking her, loving her gently while she ordered her dish. “I would like lobster bisque with a side of this lesbian hotty. Extra thick if you don’t mind”.

Kian’s blush would prompt a snort from the uncommonly progressive waiter; the one that was given their table each time because he didn’t mind their insufferably adorable display. But the rest of the restaurant—and the town as well, for that matter—were polarized by the sight. Flavors of opinions varied, but there wasn’t a person in town without an opinion of the ‘gay broads’. Small town roots ran deep in Faircrest.

Serena didn’t care one lick what other people thought about her feelings for her girlfriend. She was a city girl in mannerism as well as history. She, therefore, came with judgment-proof armor straight out of the box—something envious in many situations.

Kian, however, was from Faircrest. Those small-town roots ran straight through her heart.

“I’d just like there to be less cuddling, you know? It’s a little suffocating. I want to be more into it—really, Serena, because I love you. I just don’t know how to make myself care less about how everyone perceives it. ”

Serena, while hurt and frustrated by the insistence on more distance, was also mature enough to respect Kian’s boundaries. But ever since that conversation, their relationship was strained, throbbing like a twisted ankle.

It couldn’t last. Serena wouldn’t even lay beside her long after sex anymore. She would keep her distance unless explicitly invited by Kian. And as her girlfriend, Kian knew that she was harming Serena in an untenable way. She loved the girl too damned much to keep doing this to her.

Even if her body appreciated the distance.

So she sought a compromise: mood enhancers. Meditation. Hormone boosting pills on the internet. Anything.

Or maybe everything. All of it at once. After several weeks, she did everything she knew to do at the same time, desperate and blind to warning labels and recommended dosages.

And as a result, she didn’t feel the change gradually. Instead, one Friday morning following a steamy encounter with Serena, who had spent the night, they dropped on her head like an anvil.

She woke up first just like every morning. Laying in her sheets, she could shake the sensation that something in her world had shifted; barely off by a few degrees. It was the same room, same pillows, same temperature. The same amount of sunshine made rows of light as it passed through her blinds; seventeen bars, she recalled, having obsessed over numbers in her anxiety these past few weeks.

When she turned, she saw Serena looking at her.

“Morning, love,” Serena said, her full lips and chocolate-toned skin all but glowing this morning. “How’d you sleep?”

White sheets contrasted Serena’s lacy pink bra, which she wore to bed because her ‘girls’ would jostle as she tossed and turned, waking her at odd hours. It was a sexy and adorable problem to have. Kian often teased Serena about her softy, hefty ‘biological clocks’. Kian’s B cups had never dared to wake her before her required eight hours, making Serena’s K cups—or whatever they were now. They were J’s when they met and K’s just a few weeks ago—the most unruly pair of tits either of them had ever heard of.

A pang of loneliness arched through Kian as she saw familiar lace and morning light painting her partner’s rich, dark beauty. She awoke with a start to the sensation—a feeling if more than typical morning grog.

“I slept like your baby,” Kian answered, at last, entranced by her lover’s glow like she couldn’t remember being before. “Which I am; your baby. How about you?”

“Wonderfully.” Sleep brought inhibition, so Serena’s hand rose toward Kian’s body. When she spent a few seconds rolling her palm over her girlfriend’s hip, it seemed to wake her up some and visible guilt flashed over her face; a sober awakening. Her hand snapped back, realizing that she failed to hide her impulse to pull Kian in. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Kian smiled, understanding.

“I can go get started on breakfast,” Serena said, nodding.

Serena started to back out of the bed, but this time, stirred by something impulsive inside of her, Kian outstretched her hand instead. Just as Serena was standing at the bedside, Kian had her by the wrist.

It was hard to explain. It was similar to the impulse of seeing a cute animal and wanting to hold it, or of marveling at purity and sweetness in its truest essence and needing to press it protectively against you. Kian had felt the urges to provide as Serena’s partner, as she assumed the check for every dinner date they went on, held open doors, and other antiquated means of insinuating herself as the caretaker (it was hard to think of new ones).

Still, she never thought of any of that as being a nurturing instinct.

Whatever it was that had her reaching for Serena upon seeing the briefest glimmer of regret, though, must have been the real thing.

It was frighteningly powerful—overwhelmed her, making her heart slam against her until she moved. It was also underlined by apparent arousal that thirsted for a naked Serena and hot, fast morning sex.

But first, she pulled gently, and Serena tilted her head quizzically.

“What? I’m going to get started on breakfast,” Serena whined, respectfully resisting.

Kian felt all the more ashamed for making her girlfriend feel it was unnatural to spend time in bed with her. “Come here.”

“But are you sure? This isn’t—. . .”

Kian’s skin tingled with need. “Just for now. I’m fine with it. Here.”

Serena’s eyes prickled, verging on tears. She’d needed to be held this morning and hadn’t been able to ask. Kian felt her soft, small girlfriend tumble into her arms, all breast, and curly hair, and sugary sweetness. She felt her arms rise and surround Serena, her head dipping to snuggle her cheek into the crown of her girlfriend’s head. The space between Kian’s pale thighs belonged to her love.

But more than that, she felt that the cuddlesome appetite was finally sated. She could feel the urge dissolving the longer she held Serena, cooing at her with affection until all that remained was a ravenous hunger for lovemaking. She helped herself to Serena’s soft curves, taking up another half hour of their weekend, then the two bounded up to start their day.

The urges resumed throughout the morning. Kian couldn’t explain them. They were, at their core, interruptions—annoying nags to grab Serena’s hand as they walked side by side, the insistence that she stroke Serena’s hair. Each urge needed to be sated, one after the other, but only minutes later Kian would find herself even deeper in another trough of needing to reaffirm that Serena’s skin was as soft and fragrant as it had been mere seconds before.

It spilled over, worse and worse as they went about their joint morning routine; opening blinds, putting light pop music on the television, boiling water for coffee and tea. The two were inseparable—and in flux between ‘naked’ and ‘nearly-so’.

“Oh, fuck. Again?” Serena giggled as she went tumbling onto the leather love seat, body a wave of soft femininity breaking gently into the cushions.

Her legs were flung open and Kian, on impulse alone, sank to her knees and puckered as she breathed hot puffy air against her girlfriend’s snatch. “Yea,” she groaned, barely recognizing this animal inside of her. “I need you.”

“Mmm. Help. Yourself.” Serena purred.

And to no one’s surprise, from all of the pinching, holding, and touching of the morning, she was already ready for yet another round with Kian. She was glistening. A treat for the eyes, her neat folds well-maintained, suited for sex at any time. Kian appreciated even this effort all the more, to the point that she felt the need to pause and reflect on just what the hell it was inside her motivating all of this. Even between them and their impassioned, steady streak of sex, she was usually content with one or two rounds. Here she was, on her knees, tasting Serena’s fiery pot like it was a fucking continental breakfast and they were barely an hour into their day.

And she hadn’t been able to help herself.

Serena tasted better than usual. Her moans were visceral, her tremors so real. Kian couldn’t put to words how good sex was now. But it wasn’t just oral sex. No, Serena’s thighs were pillows that her fingers sank into as she squeezed them. There was a rhythm to her lover’s hip thrusts, her grinding to meet Kian’s sucking. A song was playing in Serena’s whole body, from her movements to her moans to her throbbing heartbeat. When the climax came, it was fast and hard and right on tempo and Kian eagerly indulged, following up with a thorough tongue bath and more couch cuddling.

“The hell has gotten into me,” Kian muttered, gliding her tongue along her lower lip in direct contradiction to her confusion, tasting Serena’s lovely, liquid markings all over again and craving them all the more.

After round two, it ebbed some and Kian found that she could function like a normal human being again, enough to go out shopping with Serena. Except, once in public, the urges resumed with doubled force. Her body tingled at Serena’s very proximity like it did in their first week of being together.

When Serena went to the bathroom, Kian felt like she was going to lose it and embraced her love the second she stepped out of the stall.

“But I can’t hug you. I haven’t washed my hands,” Serena giggled.

“There’s a sink in the stall. C’mon,” Kian insisted, forcing her love back into the grocery outlet’s public restroom.

Kian bent down on her knees and gave Serena a ravenous loving. The two fell right into their passion, needing little warm-up or foreplay. The both of them seemed to be dripping lately, Serena from all the extra attention, but also Kian, strangely, feeling equal parts needy and horny for her girlfriend.

Then, she stood.

They exited the stall and Kian noticed that Serena seemed cuter than usual. She held onto her girlfriend from behind as Serena washed up, her pelvis bumping forward teasingly as Serena lathered and rinsed. Except, her pelvis hit a different place than before. In fact, looking in the mirror, Serena looked much shorter than usual, like she had lost a few inches to bend into the sink but hadn’t gained them back.

Kian started, addressing a Serena who was still heady from having cum mere seconds earlier. “Do you notice anything different about yourself?”

“I’ve been eaten out like four times today, which is quadruple my usual quota for a Friday morning.”

“Anything else?”

Serena didn’t say anything. She seemed quizzical of the question but noticed that Kian was watching her in the mirror. Kian’s heart throbbed as she watched Serena’s dark eyes gain recognition. What it was her petite girlfriend had seen, she wasn’t sure, but she knew Serena’s hungry, lustful gaze when she saw it and immediately Kian snagged her even closer.

Serena’s butt clapped audibly on Kian’s thighs. The hug was fast and hard.

Too fast? Too hard? Serena had yelped at the force. Kian looked down. Did she have. . . muscles?

“I don’t know what it is, baby,” Serena said, husky and wanting as ever. “But you look so dashing lately. Like, I’ve loved the physical contact—which I’m sorry for, ‘cause I know you wanted me to reel it in some—but it’s like I can’t help but love feeling so small and cuddly with you lately. Why? Do you feel the same?”

Kian did. She really did—more literally than Serena could know. And when Serena turned on her heel to kiss, Kian bent down to make out with her love. She bent further than normal, actually.

Serena was on her tiptoes.

When they finished, just barely managing to keep their clothes on, Kian pulled away. Then, she noticed it again.

“Serena. You’re shrinking. Something is. . .No, you’re getting shorter.”

“I-I don’t think so? Maybe?” Serena looked down at herself, using her hands to feel her curves and adjust herself. Her breasts, for one thing, were not any smaller. They looked bigger. Entrancingly, deliciously enormous. Except, they might look bigger if she, herself, was getting smaller. “I was going to say that you seem a little taller lately. Broader too. Like, you’re packed into your jeans and shirt. Have you noticed?”

Kian mirrored Serena’s movements, adjusting her bra and belt loops. When she wasn’t obsessed with snuggling with Serena, she did notice that there seemed to be less of her clothes to support her. Not just that her breasts and hips seemed heftier, but that there seemed to be more of her. . .

She turned; looked in the mirror. . . And realized that part of her dyed red hair wasn’t in the frame. “What?” she whispered, approaching the reflective glass, finding that when she got closer, she could only see her chest, abdomen, and waist. “That’s not. . . Did the mirror move? Is this a carnival mirror or. . .”

It seemed that way since Kian looked like a giant and Serena a pixie. But when Kian turned and viewed the bathroom, she realized she could look over the stalls. The doorway had been low coming in, but she was at eye level with the door now that she was leaving—an obvious and blatant shift in perspective.

“You’re. . . really tall,” Serena said.

Her voice was so syrupy and seductive that Kian turned, her hands still squeezing against her hips, trying to make more of them fit into her shrinking skinny jeans. Kian saw a shrunken Serena, one who had started as petite but somehow managed to get even smaller. It wasn’t even that she looked dwarfish or childlike either. She maintained her adult proportions and features, completely the same Serena but on a much shorter scale.

And her breasts, well, they were stubborn, retaining their size despite her sudden bodily changes.

“Serena, I think something’s wrong,” Kian said, the sight of her smaller, cuter, lustier girlfriend forcing her to squeeze her fists just to keep from leaping forward. “W-We’ve definitely changed size somehow. Somehow we’re different—both of us. Don’t you feel smaller?”

Serena shrugged. “Maybe? But, well, does it matter all that much? I like being small. I like it when you wrap your arms around me. I’ve been wanting to cuddle more and today, well,” she sidled up to her girlfriend, making apparent more than two feet of difference in size between the two of them. “It’s been like a dream. I never could have imagined a day as good as today has been. I wanna hold you and not let go.”

“Serena, wait! We need to talk about—. . . Oh, Mmmph, yea. . . Hell yea. . .”

The tinier, bustier version of Serena had lunged forward, her hefty chest serving as a buffer for her bear hug. She felt so melty and warm, so amazingly good as she cuddled in public. The need for intimacy in Kian stirred. The taller partner wrapped herself up in her little Serena, bundling up her cushy, inviting body in a hug she couldn’t resist.

Kian continued to mutter things, like how they needed to figure out how they had changed sizes and how urgent the situation was. None of it, though, seemed as important as the skinship developing between her and Serena. The longer they hugged, the closer they seemed to feel, both of them moaning as they nuzzled, particularly Serena.

Problem solved. Kian’s mood toward Serena’s public affection had swung in a favorable direction.

Somewhere in the warmth, though, Kian felt a sudden shift. As the need for cuddles leveled and retreated reluctantly, she could feel her partner shrinking. This time, she could tell that her mind was giving her all the signals to continue, to hug Serena tight and feel those humongous melons pressed so firm and hard into her stomach. She could read beneath the lovely lesbian messages and feel her body heating up as she grew larger and larger. She could feel her frame shifting closer to the ceiling, sensing the pleasure when her breasts pushed forward to bump into Serena’s cheek, gaining impressive size to match the rest of her changing proportions, and a slight pain caused by the sturdy quality of her jeans around her shifting thighs and ass.

“Serena,” Kian huffed. She was horny as hell and ready for another round but needed to get the words out. “I-I feel us changing. You’re getting smaller in my arms. I-I can feel myself getting bigger.”

“Doesn’t it feel good? Hehe,” she giggled, kissing the bulbous, pert mounds of Kian’s chest. They tingled under her lips, brown and full and eager to plant little shooting stars of pleasure all over Kian’s heated skin. “I love how big you’re getting. I like being small, too. It’s neat.”

“Neat?! Babe, I’m—. . . Oh god. F-Fuck!” Kian tremored, feeling surges radiating within and over her. This time, it was obvious. She felt her bones shifting oddly and her flesh pulsing from head to toe.

She forced her girlfriend away; arm’s length. “Serena, I—. . . Fuck. Look at you. . .”

Serena was a flustered, horny wreck. She giggled constantly; entranced. Her chin bobbed up and down as her eyes did the long, eager stroll over Kian’s immaculately enormous body. “You’re so tall. I love it. You could carry me no problem, couldn’t you? Wow. . .” She was actually drooling, so turned on at the sight of her girlfriend.

And Kian would have been lying if she said that making cute, busty brown girls drool wasn’t a tremendous ego boost.

“You’re so. . . so little. . .” Kian said, unable to form sentences beyond the obvious. Her brain was fuzzy with lust, making complex thoughts fizzle when she tried to piece them together. Instead, her brain seemed to take in everything about Serena that she already liked:

Her cuteness. Her petiteness. Her fun-sized packaging. Her love of being handled, tossed around, and squeezed. And those massive fucking funbags. . .

She’d clearly shrunk another half a foot, making the top of her head somewhere just above four feet tall. She would have looked completely normal, just as she had when she woke up this morning, had she not kept the tits she had when she was five-foot-one. All of that titty on her little body caused them to dominate her dollish frame. She’d been K cups before, but with nearly a foot of woman missing, they protruded obtusely and cutely in front of her. There was no way her new little arms could wrap around them, and her knees buckled under their weight, a little shaky from the bliss of snuggling with Kian. Her cocoa skin looked absolutely radiant.

“I don’t know what star we wished on to make this happen,” she said through her thick, kiss swollen lips. “But I never want it to change.”

“I think I grow when we. . . cuddle? But I think I’m making you shrink, too. I-I don’t want you to be—. . .” Kian leaned forward, bending at the knee. The same foot lost by Serena had been compounded onto Kian’s height. She was nearly seven feet tall, and much, much thicker. She had muscles, she noticed, nothing huge but definite. And when she bent forward to get closer to her partner, she heard and felt the Shhhkrt! that were her jeans failing at last.

“My baby’s growing out of her clothes, hehe,” Serena grinned, unquestionable joy and fulfillment on her grinning face.

“You seriously aren’t worried? Not at all?”

“I’m not. No.”

“But what if we can’t find a way to reverse this?”

“I would never want to. I like us with a size difference,” she stated, breaking Kian’s grip as she darted forward and jumped. Kian caught her effortlessly, cradling her in her arms bridal style. “Though I do think we should experiment a little more back at your place. . .”

Kian was on the edge of denying it but felt the lightness of Serena’s body and the shift in weight as her pendulous breasts bumped into her knees. It was like holding a doll; little to no effort at all, despite the evident weight. This seemed like a fantasy for her girlfriend at the very least.

And she finally could feel close to her, too, so why not?

Despite her concern, Kian couldn’t articulate a good enough reason to bring herself pause. She felt that things were simpler now. She was finally close to her girlfriend, holding her sweetly in her arms and it did feel right, in some inexpressible way. She decided to question it after the two of them had sexed one another senseless.

“We have a conversation to have,” Kian said. “When we get back home.”

“Yay!” Serena said, cutely, embracing her new identity as the single most adorable thing on the planet.

The two left the bathroom together to the stares and glares of those in the grocery store, ignoring them completely as Kian walked back to the apartment.

Where much more cuddling was imminent.