Joyce Julep
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The Whipple Virus, Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2021-07-06 19:47:57 +0000 UTCChapter 18
Warren felt ridiculous in the high chair, but there was nothing he could do to escape. Irina had strapped him in tightly, and all he could do was uselessly flail his arms and legs…which of course made him feel more juvenile and childlike than he already felt. He could hear her taking deep breaths in the adjacent room, and it was making him extremely nervous. All the while, though, Warren was trying to amp himself up for some kind of confrontation. He had no idea what it would be like, but he was determined not to let Irina just walk all over him. All the crazy, conflicting thoughts in his mind continued to whirl about uncontrollably, but he tried his best to block them out. He fought to keep this truth crystal-clear in his mind, that despite the pandemic, despite his illness, despite everything that had already happened, this was still his house, and he was his own man…and Irina was still his employee.
“So Warren,” came Irina’s gentle, measured voice from above. Warren’s head snapped up. He had been staring at his bare feet, hanging out of the holes in the high chair, but now he was looking straight up at Irina. She had come back into the kitchen, and was walking up to him with slow purpose. He had another urge to fight his bonds, but he knew it would be useless, and did nothing.
“Sarah brought you back, huh?” Irina continued, walking up very close to him and stopping. Internally, she was making a huge effort not to put her hands on her hips, or fold them across her chest — as much as she badly wanted to, she was careful not to show how upset and hurt she still felt.
Warren nodded silently, and Irina felt another flare-up of her anger. The little guy wasn’t even going to talk to her!? But she reminded herself that he was probably still like a “deer in the headlights,” and so she bent down over him, peering closely at his skin.
“All alone out in the world by yourself!” Irina exclaimed, with a little exaggeration. She reached down and brushed Warren’s little head aside, checking the side of his neck. “And you didn’t get hurt? You didn’t fall? No one tried to kidnap you?”
Warren stared stonily straight ahead. The touch of Irina’s big fingers on his neck made him instantly hard, and caused his skin to break out all over in goosebumps. What was he going to tell her? Irina noticed, and felt a wave of hormonally-charged emotion that combined with her own arousal, giving her a hot flash up her neck and across her face.
“I…some people tried, yeah,” he heard himself croak out. He still couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye. “There were…two w-women…but then…I—I got away, and then I ff-found a group of men…hiding out…but…but then s-some of those…th-those bounty hunters found us, and th-they had nets…and…and they were going to take us away, b-but…but Sarah showed up and…uhhh..sh-she just…she took me away.”
Irina blinked down at him, exhaling slow, sweet breath as she listened. She was burning up inside…she had not realized that it had been that dramatic, that dangerous, that close. His little body was shivering now, and she immediately realized that Warren had told her all of that against his better judgement. It had all just come spilling out in a kind of helpless, purging catharsis. She hummed comfortingly at him as her huge hands continued their survey of his body, checking the other side of his neck, gently folding back the hair on his head to examine his scalp, lifting both of his tiny arms to check his armpits, running her hands down his bony back, encircling his shrunken legs in her warm palms, testing them…almost to ensure that everything was still there.
“You poor little thing,” she murmured, letting his legs go. “I can see how much it affected you. I’m just…so glad to have you back in one piece.”
Warren kept looking down at the floor. He had thought about mentioning how big Sarah had been…how the little group of men were all left to their fate…how Sarah had orchestrated the whole thing…how the “leader” of the group had probably suffered a worse fate than the rest. But none of that really seemed to matter now. It was just him and Irina.
“Warren,” came Irina’s soft voice, edged with something hidden behind the tenderness, “I want you to look up at me.”
Warren’s eyes glanced upward from the floor. Irina had crouched down low in front of him now, resting her hands on her knees as she looked straight into his face. Even crouching down like this, her head was even with his. Their eyes met, and Warren immediately looked away. He felt it all — shame, helplessness, embarrassment, arousal, resistance.
“Waaaaarren…” Irina said again, almost in a whisper, “I said look at me. Don’t look away.”
“W-what…what do you w-want, Irina?” blurted out Warren pitifully, still looking down at the floor. He felt himself inhaling sharply a moment later, because a giant warm hand had suddenly engulfed the entirety of his chin and gently but firmly forced his head upward. Irina’s dark eyes stared into his, and for the first time, Warren realized that she too was trying hard to remain composed. He saw that her eyes were a little glassy, like she was just keeping herself from crying, and he noticed her bottom plush lip quiver slightly.
“I just want you to know,” Irina said quietly, as she gently pet Warren’s cheek with her long fingers, “How…how much it affected me, Warren…you running away like that.”
“I’m…I’m s-sorry!” he exclaimed, now feeling desperately guilty, even as he remained paradoxically determined to explain and justify himself. “I…I w-wasn’t really thinking straight, I know…and I know it’s dangerous out there…I mean, obviously, and everything, but maybe I th-thought the news was exaggerating or something, y-you know…but…uhm…I…y-yeah, yeah I’m sorry Irina I shouldn’t have made you worry like that and, I’ll…like, I won’t just freak out like that again, ok? I just…I needed a little space, and…uhhh…it…it got out of hand.”
He concluded his attempt at an apology-explanation in a petered-out voice, because as he spoke, a large tear had welled up in Irina’s eye and went traveling down her cheek. Somehow, that tear seemed to nullify everything he was saying. Irina flared her nostrils and blew out another slow exhale of sweet breath, blowing back Warren’s hair slightly. She let his chin go. He didn’t dare look away now.
“You don’t understand, Warren,” Irina replied slowly, shaking her head back and forth as she maintained eye contact with him. “All of that is true — I was worried sick about you. And it was absolutely self-destructive to go out of the house like you did, all alone. But you have to understand, Warren…you running away like that…you weren’t running away from the virus, or anything else except one thing. You were running away from ME, Warren. I’ve poured my heart and soul into monitoring you, taking care of you, loving you…and you running away…it was you saying that you rejected all of that.”
Warren was speechless. Irina stood up slowly to her full height, looming over him at 6’5. He had to crane his neck all the way up to see her face now, which he could just barely see over the hefty globes of her breasts.
“And that hurt me, Warren,” she said with soft matter-of-factness. Now she did put her hands on her thick hips. “You tried to refuse my care, my devotion, my love.”
Warren’s face was on fire with shame now as he looked down at the floor once more. He found himself shaking his head, but he couldn’t answer for a long while. Irina let him sit there in his high chair, processing everything she had said, as she watched him shaking his head. She bit the side of her tongue, determined not to express her anger. So he was going to try and somehow wiggle out of this, was he? The nerve…but she reminded herself that she was not going to force him to do anything. She was going to SHOW him how it had to be.
“Th-that…that’s…n-not fair of you to say, Irina,” Warren finally managed to say, as he brought his eyes up toward her in his best attempt of defiance. “I—I’m sorry I hurt you, but…but I just…I…the…the milk and everything…and how you just…just did it, without even asking me…I mean…I know…I know I’m sick, and I know you’ve been taking care of me, and I…I appreciate it, Irina, I r-really do…but there are…there are still rules, you know…l-limits. And…d-despite everything, you know….you’re…you still work for me, Irina, and I think…I think a line was…was crossed. I’m sick, but I’m still a man.”
Irina’s eyes had flashed down at Warren for an instant as he had begun his best attempt at defiance. A part of her was still hurt that he was putting up this kind of resistance, but a much larger part of her, the more composed, rational side, reminded her that all of this was expected. All of this was necessary; they were getting it all out. She took a deep breath, inflating her large breasts above his head. At this point, the robe she was wearing was so tight that it actually expanded audibly with her breath. She saw Warren’s little head look up. She knew he was hard…she knew he wanted her milk….and she badly wanted to give it to him. But all of this was part of the plan.
Smiling amiably, she inclined her head down towards him, taking a step back as her eyes travelled purposefully up and down his captive form in the high chair.
“Hmmmm, well you say that,” Irina declared, “But…well, I have to be honest Warren…you don’t look like much of a man right now.”
“That’s because…that’s because you strapped me to this…this high chair!” he responded angrily, getting a little red in the face. His “angry voice,” though, came out as more of a whine than anything else.
“Well alright, alright,” Irina replied, bending down towards him. “I’ll let you go, don’t worry. I just needed to make sure you didn’t try and bolt again.” Just hearing Warren trying to explain himself had been a strange catharsis for her — Irina hadn’t been able to help shedding that tear, but looking into his eyes and calmly telling him how much he had hurt her…and seeing his dumbfounded reaction…well, it had apparently been all the transition Irina needed. She was confident in herself now, totally in control of her emotions, and of the situation in general. She knew what she was doing now. With a deft little flick of her fingers, she undid the first strap, giggling at him at how easy it was for her, and then undid the second as well.
“Well, there you are,” Irina declared, standing back and spreading her arms. “You’re free, Warren. Free to be yourself. I suppose you’ll be wanting some clothes, hmmm?”
“Uhhh…y-yes…yes, that’d be nice,” he said, coming down from the high chair and standing on unsteady legs in front of her, covering his crotch (and his erection) with his hands. She looked absolutely gigantic compared to him, bigger than she had ever looked before. The memory of the bounty hunters, and of Sarah, was fading away in Irina’s presence, even though she was shorter and smaller than any of them. She was THERE, in front of him, and that’s what mattered.
“My goodness,” murmured Irina, stepping closer to him, “I think…even after just two skipped doses…I think you’re definitely smaller, Warren.”
“I…um…those clothes?” Warren asked pathetically.
“Mmmm, clothes, right,” said Irina, nodding. “Well…I mean, this is your house, Warren. No one’s stopping you from getting them.”
Warren stared up at her and then turned to make his way toward the stairs. They certainly looked a lot higher, and a lot more imposing, than he remembered. It struck him that, for a while now, he hadn’t even climbed stairs. He had always remained upstairs, with Irina coming up and down, bringing him his meals.
“Well on you go, Warren!” Irina said brightly, turning away from him. “I’m just going to start making lunch, alright? Oh, just one thing, though — and I know you won’t like this, but…just to ensure that you’re safe even if you have another, um…virus-induced psychotic episode, let’s call it…I’ll be keeping the keys to the house with me, ok? All the doors and windows are locked. But don’t see it as me keeping you prisoner…like you said, Warren, it’s your house, and you’re…*cough* the boss here, after all. It’s only a safety precaution, you understand.”
“I…uhhh, I mean, ok, but…well, you don’t have to keep me locked in,” Warren answered, shrugging at the base of the stairs. “I’m never going outside alone over again, after…after what happened, so…”
“Excellent!” smiled Irina, taking out the keys and jingling them at him. “Just, you know…to be totally safe! Alright, you go on up there and get dressed, and I’ll get lunch ready.”
Warren turned and began making the long, arduous trek up the stairs. Irina busied herself making sandwiches, glancing up every once in a while to enjoy Warren’s progress, and to make sure that he wasn’t actually getting himself into danger, exhausting himself on the stairs. Five whole minutes later, he had managed to reach the top; he was out of breath, and his skin was shiny with sweat.
“Oh and of course you’re going to take two doses of your resveratrol, right?” called Irina sweetly up at him.
“I…yeah…yes,” panted Warren. He was trying to make his voice sound casual, but of course this was impossible, and it came out in a kind of gasp. He knew Irina would just love to see how drained he had been from climbing the stairs, so he made sure to get into his room as quickly as possible. His bed was still un-made, with the huge indentation of Irina’s body still on the sheets and mattress. It had been less than 24 hours before…that he had been on that bed with her, all warm and cozy, suckling on her fat nipple as he was nestled next to her huge breast and…and…
He shook his head, trying to clear it.
‘It’s just the virus talking,’ he said to himself, walking over to his chest of drawers. ‘It’s just the virus…it’s not me…I don’t actually want that…’
The chest was so high that he couldn’t reach the top, where he kept his shirts, his socks, and his underwear. Had Irina arranged everything like this!? He couldn’t remember…it had been so long since he had really bothered to dress himself. Irina had laid out his clothes for the past few weeks.
‘Well, it’s high time I get into the habit of doing these things for myself,’ Warren declared to himself. He looked around for something to stand on to reach the drawers, but upon finding nothing, he contented himself with picking out an oversized shirt and shorts from the bottom drawer, ones that had fit him back when he was normal-sized. He put them on, and sighed, shaking his head. This wouldn’t do…he looked ridiculous. Irina wouldn’t be able to stop laughing. THIS was how he was going to show her he was in charge of himself!?
Stalling for time, he went into the bathroom and took his medicine. Thankfully, it had just barely been within his reach. And of course! That stool in the bathroom! Warren smiled as he went to get it…and then he smelled the scented aroma of the lavender bath salts that Irina had poured into his bath the night before. The smell took him back…her huge, engorged breasts, heavy with milk, hanging low down towards him, seeming to want to burst out of her clothes towards his face…those hard nipples aimed straight at his mouth…
“God damn it!” Warren growled to himself, setting his teeth as he felt his cock get hard. He stopped inhaling through his nose and managed to drag the stool toward the chest in the other room. It wasn’t easy, but he finally got there. But before he stood up on the stool, Warren had to sit on it for a minute, catching his breath. It was incredible how weak he had become…how frail…how small…
‘It’s…it’s just because I missed a couple doses,’ he tried to tell himself. But the words rang hollow in his head. He was so distracted with his own struggles that he didn’t hear Irina creeping up the stairs. She cast a furtive little glance into his room and smiled with sweet, almost-sad empathy to herself, looking down at his naked little back, going up and down, up and down, with each heaving breath. He was going to have to learn. And she was going to help make it easier for him. She had tolerated his weakness for a while now, but it was time to really strip everything down to its bare truth. Sticking her tongue into the side of her cheek, she made her way swiftly to her quarters. She knew it was going to take him at least five minutes to change into his own clothes…plenty of time for her to change as well.
Ten minutes later, Warren was gripping the bannister of the stairs as he made his way back down. He had managed to dress himself in the clothes he wanted, but he was desperate to realize that even they fit a little looser than he remembered. Still, though, Irina wouldn’t be able to hold it over him. He had done it all himself! He couldn’t help but think, though, as he descended the stairs, how crazy it had been that he had actually run down these stairs a few hours earlier, in his blind panic.
‘It must have been the adrenaline,’ he thought to himself, ‘That would explain why I was able to go so quickly without getting t…’
His thoughts stopped in their tracks. He was looking across the kitchen island at Irina, who was humming along to herself, chopping up lettuce, onions, and tomatoes for a salad. She had changed clothes…into one of those outfits he had bought her online. On its own accord, his mouth dropped open. Irina was wearing a cerulean blue top, which had long sleeves that Irina had pulled up on her forearms. Her body filled it out completely…the arms, the abdominal region, and, of course, the bust. Warren wasn’t able to help gaping at her from the foot of the stairs. The way her body just…just crammed into the top…the way her breasts seemed almost to overflow its boundaries…was nothing short of stunning. And that wasn’t all — Irina had also changed into a pair of long, black leggings that Warren had also bought for her online. These too were completely filled by her strong, thick legs, and curvy hips. Her powerful thighs emanated with elegant strength from the huge orbs of her prominent ass, and curved artfully down to her knees, swelling once more in her impressive calves, and back down to her bare feet. Had Irina ever gone barefoot in the house before!?
Irina immediately noticed Warren staring at her, but made it a point to only look up once she had let his eyes drink their fill.
“Oh hey!” she chirped, smiling at him. “All dressed I see! Lunch is almost ready!”
Lunch itself was an agonizing affair for Warren. He kept having to stare at Irina’s gigantic breasts, which really did look like they were about to burst out of her top at any moment. She laughed and talked gaily, making it a point to try and re-establish a sense of outward normalcy after the day’s turbulent events. In reality, of course, she was giving Warren all the time he needed to ogle her. She wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her nipples hardened steadily throughout the meal. Warren barely managed to eat any of his sandwich; they both knew what he really wanted, but he was determined to hold firm.
‘I just need to…to get into the habit of telling myself no,’ he said to himself as Irina gathered up his plate, giving a side-eye to his mostly-untouched food. The way her huge ass just bucked and swayed behind her as she ambled languorously to the sink…well, it made him desperate to learn how big she had gotten.
“Hey!” Irina said suddenly, like she was reading his mind, “Since we didn’t measure this morning, I think we better, right?”
“Yeah!” answered Warren right away, with a little too much enthusiasm. He hadn't even thought to try and delay it. Irina smirked down at him and raised her eyebrows.
“A little eager, are we?” she teased. She brought her fingers up to her left nipple and gave it a little squeeze, making the cerulean blue bleed darker around her areola. She had just released a small stream of milk, teasing him, but also allowing herself to feel some relief. Her nipples ached for his little mouth, but she knew the delayed gratification would win out in the end. Warren’s eyes grew wide and he had to tense his jaw up to keep his mouth from dropping open.
“Here, I know you don’t wanna go all the way up those stairs again,” she said kindly, “So I’ll just take this tape measure out of the drawer here…go over to that wall and stand up tall!”
Warren did as he was asked, trying to ignore the authority in Irina’s voice. A few moments later she was standing next to him, measuring carefully. When her free hand dangled by her side, he was staring straight into her knuckles. He had to look UP now to see the thick swelling swerve of her hips. He didn’t even try looking in between her legs…he could see her fat, engorged pussy pressing through the tight black pants, and he knew that if he looked at it, his cock would harden completely. He was only half-mast now, and barely managing to keep it tucked into the waistband of his loose pants.
“Warren…” Irina breathed out, far above him. “You’ve…you lost over two inches.”
“I…I what?” he blurted.
Irina stepped back and showed him the tape measure, bending down low towards him so that he could read it. Those giant breasts were suddenly in his face again, and they were jiggling with Irina’s soft, sweet laughter as she bit her lower lip. Her eyebrows went up at him in pity.
“You’re 3’5, Warren…”
