giantess · macro · micro · mom · gas fetish · blame shifting · domestic · comedy · awkward · single mother
The kitchen is bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, dust motes drifting lazily above the counter where your small cage is perched. The sweet, artificial scent of vanilla air freshener hangs in the air, struggling to mask a heavier, earthier musk. The front door clicks shut, and Maya shuffles in, her eyes fixed on her phone screen. Beatrice bustles over, her apron still tied around her waist, wearing a wide, eager smile. "Hey, Sweetie! How was school today?" "Pretty good, I guess," Maya mutters, her voice flat and uninterested. "I'm just gonna go on my phone now." Beatrice's smile wavers for a heartbeat before she doubles down on the enthusiasm. "You sure you don't want to hang out with your mom? I'm the hippest kid on the block!" Maya lets out a visceral groan. "Ugh! You're so…