NAKED HOLOCAUST by nostromo

Introduction:

The road is getting better. We left the horrors of the plains and are beginning to enter a more hilly landscape. As we gain altitude, the air is getting fresher and most importantly cooler. The road is zipping through green meadows now, an don both sides, the forests are getting closer. We are still a sour sight to behold, I’m sure. The caravan stretches behind us, a long snake of exhausted people, covered in mud and dust and rags. I’m holding the mules by my side. They are attached to the pick-up truck we found in the last city, a poor wreck of a car, long abandoned when the petrol ran out. Still it’s a useful find now that it’s has its two- mule power of an engine. At the back I installed the weakest of our group, and most importantly our reserve of water and some supplies (although our leaving the desert should offer us more opportunities for a refill).

Fred and Sylvia are riding the mules. They look lie peons straight out of the Andes, with their capes and woolly hats. We found them a few days ago, famished and exhausted, in a derelict motel by the side of the road. Hopefully, they get their strengths back soon now, and I’ll be able to load again the mules with some of our supplies. Yana is walking next to me. I can’t help glancing at her once in a while. Under the mask of dust and exhaustion, she’s still of a radiant beauty, her perfect Slavic face neatly framed by the long coat of her blond hair. She’s wearing combats and a camouflaged top, over the no longer white shirt she probably had on her when the events started. That makes her strangely fit to lead the march. She’s a tough soldier all right. And we’re at war all right. A war we’re losing slowly but steadily….every now and then she grabs those binoculars of hers and pans the road ahead.

We are following the road North. Not that we have an immediate goal, but we all feel the North is probably the safest place to go for now. Rumours have it that they do not venture in the snowy countries. We’ll see. Every ten minutes, I look back at our caravan, checking the crowd for any weakening members, or any one tempted to take off on his own by a side road with some precious supply. As I look back, I see the stretch of tarmac disappearing in the distance, and remember the ordeals we encountered so far on our journey, in the midst of a crumbling civilisation.

Chapter 1

“John.” Yana has stopped walking. She’s holding the binoculars to her eyes. I come closer, and on a gesture of my arm, the people behind us fall silent and stay still. (I do not know how come I lead this motley crew, leadership isn’t supposed to be my thing. But so it goes I guess, a few decisions taken in time of need, a few shouted words, and that’s all it took to find myself appointed to the head of our column) Yana is still panning the horizon. I see her jaw clech nervously., her finger joints  whitening on the instrument. I look around. We had a quiet week, and along with the necessity top drag the vehicles, we have somehow become less fearful of walking in the open. Suddenly I feel terribly exposed. The road is going through a narrow valley, and forests are surrounding us beyond the green pastures. Ahead, the tarmac is zipping through the first hills, disappearing in the first folds. I stare hard at the horizon.

A tap on my shoulder. Yana is giving me the binoculars and points at a V shaped opening in the crest of the hills facing us. “Look” is all she says. I stick my eyes to the instrument. I follow the line of the tree covered hill top, till I get to the breach indicated by Yana. Nothing strange. I pan along. Nope, nothing interesting. A few farms, attached to the hill side, some unidentifiable buildings, the road that winds up the first slopes.  I glance interrogatingly at Yana. “there’s something in front” she answers. I look again. As the breach comes into view again, it’s my turn to freeze. There’s something new. I see a blond coloured dome just in the breach, that wasn’t there before.  It’s immobile and could be a structure of some sort but… It moves away.  I glance at Yana. Then at the forest half a mile away from us.  I gesture to the others to remain silent. In the binocular view I watch again, and at that moment, I see it again, but it has reached over the hill top now. And the next second, I found myself staring into a pair of green eyes. And the next it is a well shaped face that is appearing over the tree line. She’s looking straight at us. I can even witness the change of expression on her exquisite face, as she obviously registers our presence. A joyful and excited expression illuminates her traits now, and her face is reaching higher now, revealing the graceful neck. She’s climbing the far side of the hill, walking straight at us.

“Run! Run for cover!!” I shout at my companions behind me. I quickly put the binoculars around my neck and grabbing Yana by the hand I run back to the mules. We both frantically start detaching the animals from the pick up, while Fred and Sylvia climb down, and start joining the fleeing crowd. Everyone scattered right and left of the road, dropping their possessions on the tarmac. When I look back at the hill top, I no longer need binoculars to see her. Her huge naked body is now clearly visible, as she walks over the hill top, her pale skin nearly shining in the last rays of the descending sun. Her face is radiant with glee, her eyes fixed on us, and a large smile is revealing her white teeth, even though she’s still a few miles from us. She looks young, early twenties maybe. And very happy.

Yana and I got the mules free at last  and start running, dragging the animals behind us. In front of us, our comrades are feeling in total disorder. The forest is not that far. We can make it. As I look behind I see quite a few people are still back on the road, arguing god know what about their luggage, some of them just simply stare ahead at the coming giantess. I give a strong kick to my mule and send running alone. I run back to the road to the group there, that stands immobile, mesmerized by the danger. I wave my arms and shout at them. They start coming in my direction at last.  Then I see them. The Winston. This old couple has been doing the journey with us for a week or two. They are climbing down the embankment of the road, dragging their little grand-child with them. I angle my course toward them. When I reach them, I grab the kid in my arms and goad the old people into motion.

She was a few miles back, yes , but that will not be enough. I glance towards the North and see the beautiful girl there. She’s running too, her blond hair flowing around her face. Her body is taller than the small hill. She runs at us, each of her steps fifty yards at least. The free expression on her facereminds me of a girl joyfully running to jump in the waves in the ocean.  her glorious nakedness is for something for that image i guess. As I push the couple in front of me, I begin to feel the vibrations in the ground.  She’s now in open land, a formidable machine rushing to us. Her giggles of excitement begin to be audible. The forest is getting closer. I look back and see Mac who is hiding behind the pick-up truck his rifle in hand. The fool.

At every step her body is gaining in mass and splendour, her head is already high in the air. I can’t help glancing at the white expanse of her abdomen, her perfect breasts or at the long thighs that propel her in our direction. Dangerous or not, their beauty always had a hypnotic quality, intentional or not. Her feet rush forward, like flying trucks over the green landscape. The ground shakes at her every step now. She’s close to 60-70 meter tall. She’s not fully developed yet. She’s running lightly, scanning the valley with her eyes. Looking at us near the forest, looking at the others running the other way.. She’s deciding which way she’ll go. I decide to go faster.

I leave the old couple behind, accelerating my course as much as possible, my arms still clenched around the screaming kid. All around me other screams are exploding in the once silent valley. But the laughter of the girl is covering all of it. She‘s here now.

She comes to a walking gait. I’d have to crane my neck to see her face now. All I see is her enormous feet flattening the land, and the start of her huge calves. She’s saying something, in the strange and musical language they use. Is she talking to us?  Panting, sweating and in total panic, I do take the time to look back up those huge pillars of flesh that are now crushing the pasture. I see her down-turned face, the falling curtain of her blond hair, and the darting eyes that seem to encompass all of us fleeing people. She walks quietly to a man. He’s till half way to the cover of the trees. The girl’s massive foot is lifting now, debris sand crumbles from the grassy land stuck to her sole. I can’t help watching it as it covers the man in its shadow. I hear him scream louder. With a light giggle, she lets her foot settle over him. He disappears under the rosy flesh, as if he hadn’t been there at all, his scream cut short. The blond giantess walks to a small group closer to me.

I stumble in the grass, dropping the kid. and landing hard on my face. A loud thud, and a huge rosy foot is landing not fifty yards away from me. I’m in the shadow of the vast body. But she seems attracted to three running people on my right. In one step, she’s standing right over them., her legs spread, her hands on her heap. She’s laughing with glee. The group (I recognise Michael among them) has stopped running. They are confused, surrounded by her feet. They look up and scream at her. I feel a weird and brief stupid envy , as they are looking right up along the length of the white thighs at the giant womanhood of the girl. But they do not have much time to enjoy the view. Already she‘s squashing two of them under her right foot. The remaining man squeals and starts back-tracking, running right under the giant arch of the giantess’ legs. She gives a shout of delight, as she start rotating her hips to look back on the tiny fleeing form that just crossed under her legs. She turns round and gently steps on him, her huge weight mixing instantly his body with the compressed ground underneath. I grab the kid again and resume my running. I’m gonna be next, I know that.

The girls is pausing a second to look under her sole. A mixture of green and red substance is stuck to it. She frowns lightly, and then looks for more people. She sees some still on the road. In  two steps she’s all over them. A gun shot. Mac. That makes me glance back again. She’s got him. He’s dangling from her fingers, firing again his useless gun. She kisses him, with lips nearly the size of his body. Her young face is so gentle, her smile so benevolent, it’s hardly conceivable she could harm him. Then she drops him, I hear him scream as he bounces off her left breast to his death at her feet. For good measure, but already looking for others, she steps on his broken body. I keep running.

The giantess has reached the main group that was running to the other forest side.. I hear screams, the ground vibrates violently. The screams are being shut down one by one, a scream, a thud, a scream, a thud, till only the girl’s excited breathing is audible. I’d say 20, 30 screams were killed abruptly at least. A leisurely slaughter. I don’t think any of them made it to cover. That means she’s will come back to our side.

The enormous feet are indeed getting closer now. To my right, ahead of me, a group is just about to reach the forest. I see them stumbling in the young underbrush that guards the forest for nearly 300 yards. A huge shadow travels upon everyone, like a cloud, and then a vast foot is landing just behind them. Followed by another. I actually stop as I see the giant body collapse towards the ground, as if falling all over the fleeing group. In a second the group is fleeing between the knees of the young woman. Each knee is digging a hole in a ground, as if a building has settled down.. She’s now closer leaning towards them, dominating them with her chest and abdomen, sending her womanhood scent all over them. I angle my run perpendicular to the large thighs ahead of me, but I can also smell the flagrance of the girl. Fuck this, she’s really getting turned on, now as they usually do.
I instinctively (and stupidly surely) cover the eyes of the kid as I push forward. Behind the girl is now gathering the group, idly catching them one by one and dropping them in a container. (It takes me second to realize this is an old truck with a tarpaulin cover we were dragging with us). Before she does, she brings each one of them to her eyes , scrutinizing them, and  smiling appreciatively, like  a girl collecting sea shells.

When she gets all the people in, she looks up looking for more. Glancing at her, I catch the searing gaze of her green eyes. She starts getting up slowly, and I swear, she’s smiling at me. Her enormous body starts rising. I’m in the underbrush. My lungs are burning like hell; my face is flayed by the bushes. The kid is struggling in my arms. I can see Yana ahead screaming at me from the first trees of the deep forest. I scream and do not sop screaming. Behind me a thud is telling me a foot has landed. Another one, on my left now. The shadow of the giantess is passing over me. I hear the moans and shouts of the men struggling in the truck.  A few meters. Please let me reach this. A scream on my right and I have the fleeting vision of the giant hand grabbing a man that was running alongside me. I hear him falling in the truck. I’m there.

I dive between the trunks; Yana is running ahead of me. A massive hand is following me inside; the trees are cracking as it infiltrates the undergrowth. I hear a tree falling, the branches breaking all over. It lands somewhere close on my left. Another one is falling. The girls hands are reaching out for me deep in the cover, although she probably does not see us anymore under the canopy. On the right again, long fingers are falling from the sky through the foliage near a fleeing figure. I think it’s Doreen. “Get down!!!!” I shout at her.  But the fingers have touched the woman already, sending her to the ground screaming. Over the tree, beyond the heavy foliage I can see the enormous face of the girl peering through. The tip of her long blond hair is caressing the top of the tree, mingling with the green leaves. The fingers close on Doreen, and drag her screaming up the trees, in an unbelievable shaking of trunks, and a shower of leaves. Rosy shafts of light appear through the new-born opening.

Yana is running close to me now. We rush through the tree, oblivious of any pain or fatigue. More cracking, more giggle coming from far above., more trees falling around us. A few screams as the unlucky are spotted. The forest shadows are growing fast now, adding to the chaos of our flight. I see Yana dive into a ditch. It’s a deep cut in the ground. I follow her. I keep my hand over the mouth of the kid, while Yana covers us in ferns. The growing darkness is full of crashing noises and yells. Through the foliage, the massive head of the girl is going to and fro. Some screams tell us when someone is being snatched away, along with a contented humming from the woman.

We stay hidden for about an hour. The loud foraging of the giant hands have stopped abruptly. She must have had her fill of victims. I switch on my zippo lighter. In the ditch, lying against me is Yana’s body, trembling like a leaf. I search a face. I can see she’s in a bad shape. Yet I don’t see any injuries. Then it hits me, after the exertion of the past minutes, Yana is about to go in hypoglycaemic shock. She’ s diabetic. The meds…Without it Yana will die. We left all her shots in the pick up truck.
“You stay here” I tell her.
“”No, don’t be stupid, she’s still out there!” she said alarmed.
“Listen , we need to take the meds before she wrecks the truck. You stay here and mind the kid. I’ll be back soon.. Don’t move , don’t talk”.
She’s about to answer, grabbing my arm, but I free myself, and put a finger on my lips to silence her. I start crawling back up.

After a few minutes of crawling through the ferns and tree trunks, I begin to reach the limit of the forest. The sun is behind the hills already, and a purple colour bathes the West sky. It’s getting dark even in open space now. Good.  And then I see her. She’s sitting on the ground, cross-legged. Even sitting down like this her head towers 20 meters easy off the ground. She’s quite a sight. The rozy light of the sunset is throwing shining reflections on her blond hair. The pale skin on her breasts is now warm looking,, inviting. She’s leaning back, as if to enjoy the last rays, and this exposes the whole length of her upper body to my gaze. The sheer plenitude of her flat abdomen, the perfect orbs of her breasts, the juvenile abandon of her face, all this arrest me for a second. I can’t help feeling a sensation growing at my loins at I consider the beautiful creature. Hell, I have to make an effort and remember I’d luckier meeting a T-Rex than her.

I start crawling towards her, towards the pick-up I can see upside down on the road. She hasn’t trampled it yet. The meds could still be ok. As I get closer the massive body, I desperately wish for a shrinking formula, an invisible shield, anything that could cover my slow motion in the grass. Let’s face it, I’m ready to shit myself. . Suddenly, the girl leans forwards. I hear commotion in the space between her crossed legs. The truck. There are still people in there. I gulp hard. I know what’s gonna come.

The smiling girl looks between her legs and I see her hand reach lower. Many shouts respond. A man is lifted screaming  in the ier, dangling from her fingers. The girl looks really happy, her face is showing joy and lust and contentment. She drags the little body across her left breast, once , twice, and then lifts the man to her face. I ‘m getting closer, and this is all happening way above my head. The young woman throws her hair back with a careless hand and start craning her head back. The man is yelling and pleading, as she places him over her mouth and parts her lips. The screaming lasts for a few seconds as she lowers him into her luscious mouth. She closes her lips and seems to savour the man. I can see the motions of her tongue on her cheeks. From inside a plaintive wail is clearly audible. She swallows her morsel. Live. I see the passing of the man inside her throat, as the young woman makes a few gulping sounds while she ingests this rather too large prey. The lump in her throat descends slowly and disappears. The young woman caresses fleetingly her belly while she looks down into the truck between her legs.

Another man is lifted in the air. I can hear him begging and crying as she slurps on him for a while, using him to caress her breasts and sucking a bit more before the final swallow. But I’m no longer watching. I’m intent on crawling as quietly as possible. My course is bringing me just behind the giantess in order to go around her and reach the” road. My field of vision  is nothing more than the wall of flesh of her monumental behind and the grass I push aside to reach it. A few meters ahead of me, the screams have redoubled from the container where the woman keeps her dinner. She reaches for another one, literally purring with glee.

I’m close to her now, as I pass by the cliff of her back,  her scent all over my nostrils, the heat from her body hitting me like an open oven. High above me, I see the bottom of the river of blond hair that hangs high on her shoulders. I could touch her now, and for a second I am really tempted to so. I want to feel this incredibly wall next to me. I want her to grab me and let me feel her, let me be privy to her most intimate niches. I want to… I shake my head. Too many hormones in the hair. I feel the boner I drag since I started the crawl dig into the grass. Come on, man , concentrate. Beside, if this beautiful doll moves a single muscle, she’ll bury me under the zillion tons of her ass. See if that would be fun… I clear my head and resume my crawling. I’m invisible to her at last, but yea, if she moves…  I see the truck just a few meters away, on the tarmac.  Suddenly, I freeze; the vast body above me is still, but a definite noise just caught y attention. Someone is calling. I look around , trying to locate the muffled voice. This idiot is going to make us dead if she notices him. The voice… is coming from above.  I feel a cold sweat running down my spine. Someone is calling for help. Above, within the giantess back. Inside her. Oh my God. They are alive in there. I contemplate the vast cliff of the slender back, and sure, that’s where the voice is coming from. Her victims. En route for digestion, but still kicking in there. I feel dizzy. Another scream is echoing loud in the air. Other slurping noises. “Here is company, guys”  I think bleakly and carry on my crawling.

I was lucky. She got way too interested in her little treats to look at the road in her back. I crawled in the pick up truck and found the shots were they were supposed to be, in the glove compartment. As I come out, as silently as possible, in the shadow of the vast body, I spot a few dark patches on the road. I nearly retch what was left of m bile. This greasy spots and trails are what’s left of the guys she trampled so joyfully a few minutes ago.  The old couple, Mac and tens of others are all around me sprayed on the road, or compressed in the footprints of the girl. She slaughtered us merrily and without mercy. The obvious delight with which they annihilate us is one of the most sickening aspects of the events. A deep hatred runs its course through my veins, but I don’t let it go to my head. I can see the gun Mac used earlier. But I know too well that even at point blank it would never harm her.

I’m just about to start crawling back to the forest, when the girl shifts her position. She‘s turned nearly in my direction, uncrossing her legs and spreading them apart. Propping herself up on one hand , she reaches inside the vertical truck where she keeps the last prisoners. Her green eyes are glassy now and even in the penumbra, I can see the little spark that lit them. Her body is slightly distended, and to my horror, I can see movements under the skin of her abdomen. I crouch near the end of the pick-up, ready to make a dash for it at the first opportunity. I see her hand reaching inside the up-turned truck. A woman (my God, it’s Sylvia, the girl we picked up in the last town.) is dragged out of the back of the vehicle. The playful look on the girl’s face is quite clear. She bring the woman to her mouth, high above me. The cries stop for a second, while she sucks on her victim. When she opens her mouth a trail of saliva stick to Sylvia’s’ body before retracting on the extended tongue. She brings a yelling Sylvia to the damp slit between her legs. I can see the clitoris, burgeoning already, and soon, Sylvia is brushed slowly over it. Above the woman’s face is a mask of rapture. Her loud breathing is throwing gust of warm air in my direction.. Again and again, she presses the small woman on her clitoris, sometimes bringing her up again  to her breasts, and then down again. Sylvia is just whimpering now. After a few moments, during which I cannot find the courage to move away, the giantess, an ecstatic smile on her face, sits a glistening Sylvia across her left nipple.

Her hand extracts another person. A man this time. Without ceremony she presses him immediately onto her now drenched cleft. The labia are engorged and bigger than his body now, and his yells are muffled immediately when his face is used to caress the humid flesh. The girl holds him carefully between thumb and forefinger, and his little feet can be seen trashing violently even though he can no longer utter a sound. This seem more and more pleasant to  the gigantesque  girl and moans begin to echo through  the valley. Beads of sweat catches the last rays of sun.  I feel my boner coming back in spite of the horror of the situation. The air is heavy with sexual scent. Not far from me a colossal foot is agitated by tremors and huge toes wriggle spasmodically.

A very high shriek brings my gaze back to the nether regions of the giantess. She’s gently aligning. the man with what is now a dark gaping cavern, with glistening  vibrating walls. I see him putting his hands on both sides of the opening but it is to avail as the fingers gently insert his head deep into the cleft. They then push the legs in, before finally pushing on the sole of the tiny feet to insert them whole into the moist vagina. The girls is moaning and breathing harder now. And her fingers are deeper into herself. Obviously she has no intention to release her little captive. Instead she drags another screaming guy out of the truck, presses him hard against a clit. He did not even have time to protest in anyway. High above, I can hear some whimpering from Sylvia, who is massaged slowly onto the erect nipple of her torturer. I’ve enough of this. I start crawling back to the forest. I need to bring these shots to Yana. My path will make me pass straight by the giantess foot, but it is the shortest way.

I am getting closer to the big statuesque foot that towers over me. In the distance, along the giant triangle formed by the long legs, I see the man in the vagina trying to escape the wet inferno. He brings his chest out , and pushes on his arms.hardly finding purchase on the wet glistening folds. Whitish rivulets flow around his body. I can hear him grunting and whimpering. With a slurping sound, the wet cavern drags him inside again. The girl is close to orgasm now, and she now brings the second man into her vagina. His legs trash a bit as he’s being inserted and probably forced to crush the other occupant. Her two hands now resting against her sex, the woman collapses backwards in the grass, making the ground shake under the horrendous falling weight. Her hips are now rising high in the hair, agitated by a regular spasm, before coming down again, crushing the truck and its last prisoners. The hips rise again.

Obscurity is near total now, and only the full rising moon lets me see the glistening giant body convulsing near me, like a frenzied building. This is my chance to get up at last. I jump to my feet, go around the wriggling toes of the shouting woman, and run for my life towards the dark forest, un-heedful of the bushes, the noise, the branches, the giant noises behind me. Just as I reach the trees , a deafening shout throws me on the ground, covering my ears.  In the moonlight, the giant body, beautiful in its perfect reclining length, is no longer agitated. The enormous mass is resting quietly on the grass, covering nearly the whole meadow. Only the gentle breathing lets you know this gigantic mass is alive and not another hill in the landscape. The skin appears incredibly smooth and soft under the bluish moonlight, the sweat on it reflecting the moon rays. I see the gentle profile of the woman as she closes her eyes, her  throat extended,   her mouth slightly opened,  and her wrist resting on her brow.  The long blond head is spread all accross the grass, like a golden circus tent, giving the girls' head a pure aureola, not unlike a Russian icon. A vision of bliss and erotic satisfaction. But then I hear a grumble from the distant stomach…

I reach Yana a few minutes later, guided towards her by her urgent whispers. A few people have gathered in the ditch. They stare at me in the Zippo light, expectant and sniffing. They are all haggard looking, in shock. We need to do something fast.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.” I say, as I put my arms around Yana’s shoulders.

As we walk into the night, scratching ourselves against the branches, stumbling and getting up, I reminisce the weird moments I have experienced tonight. I knew they’re known to do that. I heard the news, saw some images. But so far I had witnessed the savagery of their killing, not the ecstasy of their giant bodies. I had seen the horrors they perpetrated in our cities. This one to one meeting , out there in the wild is mind-boggling. Is that what we are now? Preys, and food and living dildos for them? What sense does it make? What do they want from us?

We walk into the night. I hold Yana near me, the kid is asleep on my shoulders. Everyone is silent, in shock. We have no water , nor food again. To occupy my mind I start remembering the start of the events.
It was a Friday. I heard that trembling voice on the TV. And then, the first images…. I was….

Chapter 2

Amanda Singles, 24, yoga teacher, was the first one. She fell unconscious on the floor of the shopping mall on the 25th May, at 15.45. This was not much of a commotion. Yet another victim of the shopping frenzy. It did become more of en event when her clothing started to crack, a few minutes later, as she was installed by some helpful hands on the sofa of a coffee shop nearby. (She still hadn’t regained consciousness when they moved her.) When her body started to spill out of the sofa, her clothing in tatters hanging from her hips and shoulders, it became quite clear something unusual was taking place. Worried mothers covered the eyes of their children and the Security staff of the mall called the police.

By the time the police arrived, the event was already being aired by a small local radio station. When the officers reached the woman, half the mall was already occupied by the huge body. The facades of a few shops had exploded under the pressure of the vast feet pressing against them; a few metallic pillars were under strain as well as a massive arm was trying to find some expansion room. It became quickly apparent that the pillars , which were supporting the structure of the roof , would soon cease to do so.

An hour later, while the naked body was pushing and compressing everything in its vicinity, the ceiling gave way, crashing onto the sleeping woman. That did not perturb her sleep. And for all eye-witness accounts, it did not seem to hurt her in the slightest. As her feet started to crash in a nearby building, while her head blocked all traffic on Main avenue, the event was already international news. Mankind was faced with its first recorded giantess.

I was having a break in the canteen of our quiet office when the excited voice of the newsman pronounced the fatidic words on the small TV set hanging from the far corner. A human being had been spotted in my own town, growing to an enormous size through walls and buildings, crushing all structures under her formidable weight. She was close to 300 feet long. (He used that term, instead of tall, as the giantess, Amanda Singles, was lying on top of the city center like a giant beached whale). The woman was said to be alive and breathing, but totally unconscious.
In the canteen, we looked at each other. This was  a bit much. Last I check April’s fool was long past. But then came the first footage. A shaky hand held camera was panning the incredible mass of the body, while the reporter was walking along the wall of flesh, in a chaos of debris. We all peered closer to the screen. Was this a new blockbuster movie? I could not spot any stars. Just as the footage was released, we all heard the din of many firemen wagons rushing to the city ( our office was slightly off center).

Vaguely chuckling, but looking uneasily to my co-workers for proof this was  a prank, I still went to the window and stretching out, I stared in the direction of the city center. I could not see much, but there definitely was a huge cloud of dust hanging over it, and not the usual mist of pollution. And then I spotted it in the far distance. A rosy structure was there, that should not have been there, an apparition between the base of our usual skyscrapers. I stared in disbelief. It was a foot. A huge foot in the distance, stuck somehow between two tall buildings, like the inflated rosy canopy of some circus tent. Below me, a flow of people in the streets were walking towards the center, in small excited group. I was about to call Michelle, my secretary and ask her to come and confirm the sight I was witnessing, when a loud grumble started  afar. I saw the skyscraper close to the foot sway right and left. Shouts and cries echoed in the distance. With a slow majestic motion the entire building started to collapse, in a vertiginous fall, while a cloud of smoke rose on the site. Something seemed to have crashed the base of the building and send it toppling down like a house card. I would find soon enough that the second foot of the giantess was indeed embedded in the lower floors and had brought about the destruction.

Stunned, I came back inside, looked at my colleagues and said :“Guys, I think we’re taking the afternoon off”.

The collapse of the building has not created any casualties. Evacuation of the entire district had been on-going   from the moment it had become clear the gigantic body was about to spill into the nearby streets. Still two people found their death in the event and the fact was horribly advertised by all channels. I remember when we saw for the first time on the TV the ugly scene of this man slowly engulfed by the huge buttock expanding on him. He had been caught somehow trying to salvage something too close to the body and a sudden spurt of growth had tumbled him down and overrun him. His pitiful cries as the firemen desperately pulled at him from under the threatening fleshy wall had been a trauma to many viewers.  A security staff member of the shopping mall had also been victim of the incredible expansion, when he found himself cornered by the advance of a massive thigh against an unyielding wall.
We all went to the city, attracted by the event like moths to a light. Everyone walking along with us was just incredibly excited. It was as if Magic had suddenly entered our dull universe, as if legends were about to come true. The walls of science and reason had been shattered as easily as the toppling skyscraper. As we got closer, the dust started to enter our noses and we had to use handkerchiefs. Coming from the opposite directions, frightened people, covered  in the white dust were stumbling away from the scene, looking at us with angry eyes.

We weren’t allowed close to the crime scene obviously, battalions of police cars and army folks were already cordoning the place. But even from the distance, I will remember for ever my first glimpse at her face.
She looked like a giant sleeping beauty out of a fairy tale. The vast curtain of her blond hair was spilling over the streets like a golden flood. Her face was high in the air, exhibiting a perfect profile.  I could see her chest heaving up and down, a tremendous and yet silent breathing that animated her perfect mountainous breasts with a gentle rhythm. I must say, that past the initial shock of the enormous size of the body lying on top of our town, the second thought was somewhat a mix of fear and wonderment at the beauty of the amplified Amanda Singles ( who had become the most famous human being on the planet in a matter of hours). Many a guy I’m sure found in the contemplation of her huge naked body a source of rather un-religious feelings. Walking on her face , a man in a white suit was leaning forward on her lower lip, apparently introducing some sort of pipe in the giant mouth. I was dying to walk up there and touch the rosy humongous lips myself.

Like many, I stayed in the vicinity till late in the night. The girl had stopped her expansion, but there was no sign that Amanda Singles was ever going to come to. Around her much activity was taking place, police army, scientists, news people, all were there, busy with their own tasks. The spotlights installed by the firemen had turned the giant body in some unreal funfair of sounds and lights. Vast tarpaulins had been brought upon the body, covering at least the parts that required some decency. That night, Gulliver’s’ travels were on everyone’s mind, and maybe because of this, no action was taken to actually try and shackle the huge woman under a network of chains and other cable. On the TV, on the radios, everywhere, commentators were bringing their arguments as to the significance of this unbelievable occurrence.

I went back home at last , my mind full of the incredible sight, my heart still racing from excitement. After all this was taking place here, in my hometown, and I was there to see it. The destruction had not been so bad, and only the fairy tale feeling seemed to linger.  I guess I was feeling also,  like everyone in the world, that a strange era was opening in human history. But apart from some really insightful or pessimistic people, (some of them fearing she may expand to infinity) no one ever saw the Event for what is was: the beginning of the end.

It’s quite incredible how we come to accept the impossible.  After a week in the shadow of the giantess, life started to go back to normal in our community. Giving up on the daily visit to the giant woman, I opened  the office again, and occasionally leaned out of the window to get a glimpse of her enormous shape. She was still asleep, her face quiet and immobile (although REM movements were clearly visible under her eyelids). Scientists from all over the planets were discussing the case. Was she dying? Would she ever awake? It had been proved that every part of her body had expanded harmoniously. Her brains were now the single most powerful thinking organ on the planet. Whatever happened to the real Amanda Singles?

Incredible tales were spinned about the actual phenomenon, the favourite explanations revolving around Aliens, a lot about new Eve and God’s will, some others about a freak accident at the quantum level of matter. The sudden growth of mass did not seem to have required any original energy. No strange entropic motion was detected at the same time on the planet. Yet this intrusion of matter required a source, and research was just beginning to investigate that source.
Disruption in traffic, touristy opportunities , news, our little world had suddenly found a new toy to play with and a new challenge to tackle.

A week later three young women collapsed on the floor in their respective towns and countries.

The young Japanese actress that went unconscious in the center of Hiroshima expanded so fast , hundreds of people fell victim to a crushing death under her pale skin. Her size reached the 650 feet mark in less than twenty minutes. Many pictures showed her long black hair strewn with human bodies. (This type of phenomenon would be labelled later “ explosive birth”).

In Paris, a young Dutch tourist fell on to the floor of the Louvres museum, crushed four people under her expanding body and destroyed the entire building. At 700 feet tall, she was a colossal sight among the old  French districts. I still remember the famous pic showing tourists staring at the huge hand resting on an old building, like a gigantic sculpture.
A tiny village in Zimbabwe disappeared under the body of a young woman, who, at more than 500 feet, became a sudden dark hill in the flat landscape.

The news hit the networks and the world realised this was indeed something serious. A strange unease started to spread . Was it an epidemic? What strange lottery was at play here? The four giants had in common to be young and female. Nothing more united them. Their sizes seemed to vary. All of them were unconscious. The world gazed worryingly at this new species. Armies went on alert. No one expected hostilities, but the Hiroshima disaster pointed out toward some serious precautions. All towns in the world started to think about evacuation techniques.

I was reading about all the theories  and watching the pictures of the munificent shapes of the sleeping giantesses (we had been disappointed top see our  local giantess was pretty small after all) with a colleague of mine, in my usual coffee  shop, when I saw a man rushing from the kitchen into the main room. He was white. “600!!” he shouted, “600!!” All customers looked at him in shock. “Not another one, please!” “ 600 feet again”, oh man!” I walked to the cook, who looked visibly shaken and  showed him a seat. “Sit down, man, it’s all right. Where about?”

“You don’ understand! There are 600 of them now!!”

For the first time, the cold fear settled in my stomach. And the world simply did not sleep that night. 600 cities ploughed under the weight of 600 giantesses. All young, all female. This was an epidemic.
A few hours later, all female citizens under the ages of 35 were kindly asked to leave the urban centers, as a measure of precaution.

The Explosion had started, all over the world, at increased rate. Within a month 7 000  human beings had evolved in this new life form, causing massive destruction.

Chapter 3

Then came the Day of  the Awakening...

I blame my dick. I was present when Amanda opened her eyes, on that fateful morning of September 23rd.. It was a warm day in the making, the last two weeks having been unusually hot for the season and  the temperature was already very pleasant. That’s my official explanation of why I was there on that terrace, enjoying an early coffee and croissant. The other reason I give was my being prone to insomnia, and in fairness I’d been up three hours before, desperately waiting for the trendy coffee-shop terrace to open). This particular place had been pretty popular of late. Slightly above the sleeping giantess, you could enjoy a sweeping view of the enormous lying body. Amanda was a looker, no doubt about it, and even with the tarpaulins covering her in parts, the view was simply staggering and I, like many guys, could not get enough of the sightseeing. The amplified female form was both totally humbling. in its dormant  power, and totally …fascinating in its overwhelming nakedness. The first rays of  the rising sun was colouring the blond river of her hair in rosy tones, and the vast expanse of her belly looked warm and tanned under the razing light. Like I said, coffee was just accessory.

Obviously this sight was by then no longer a privilege of our little town. All around the world similar and at times much vaster human landscapes had peppered the surface of the planet. Wherever you were, you weren’t far from one of them. The impact of their arrival was just beginning to register on the fabric of our world. The displacement of a large part of the population (young and female) towards the countryside, the constant presence of the military, the vast re-construction effort and organisation surrounding the damaged communities all over the world were the first sign that a struggle was starting between us and , well, them. But what really came to the surface is the general sense of unease and fear that took mankind in its fold. The absurdity of the situation, the incommensurable forces at play in our world, the total mystery we lived in, all contributed to this pre-war feeling we all experienced.
The threat was all the more frightening, that it lay there right in front of us, dormant, peaceful, and yet incredibly powerful. The “births” had stopped for a month already and we were able to bathe in the unease now, after the onslaught of the panic had subsided (quite a few cases were recorded of lynching  of women who had ventured in unfriendly communities). A sign of this malaise, would be seen among couples: falling asleep near your loved one, you could not escape the thought that she could potentially start growing during the night. What if you were caught off guard? Marital beds suddenly emptied all over the world.
The presence of the giant bodies all around the world was so palpable, we all felt their weight was already on our shoulders, so to speak. That’s probably why, when Amanda woke up, there was in the air a feeling of relief: the wait was over. We were about to know.

It is James who saw her first. A good colleague and friend , we often came together to gaze at the sleeping beauty, speculating together over the meaning of her presence, or commenting more mundane matters. I remember seeing him looking being my back with a fixed stare. Then his hand started to shake, spilling coffee on his morning shirt.
“You OK, James?”
“Don’t look now, he said, but I think she’s looking at us” he said .
I chuckled to that. He must have spotted a girl we knew. “Who is it?” I said with a wink.
“Amanda Singles” He put a shaking coffee mug on the table.

I turned round and looked into the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. And they were looking indeed straight at us. I jumped on my feet and ran to the  handrail that safe-guarded our rooftop. The first shouts started to rise in the city.
Amanda Singles was awake, hey eyes were scanning the building in front of her. She did not move a muscle and no expression came over her face. She was obviously just awakening, maybe not registering the landscape around her. In the rosy morning light, the exposed contours of her face seemed to shine with a silver lining.

“OOOOOhhhh” came the collective murmur when her face turned upward, and the eyes seemed to blink for the first time. To watch Amanda sleep was something quite breathtaking, to see the sudden motion of the enormous face was quite a shock. I was nearly used to the idea she was some sort of static prop in our city.
But when her arm moved, detaching itself from the rubble it had created a few months ago, and rising high  into the air like a giant crane, bringing her hand to rest on her brow, pushing aside tons of shiny blond hair, well, I guess then the full awareness of her living breathing presence suddenly hit all of us with  a feeling of absolute awe and the first stirrings of uncontrollable fear.

She remained for a few more minutes without moving, her folded arm resting on her brow, as she seemed to blink and consider the sky and gaze at the passing clouds. Down below, in her vicinity, the first movements were visible. Officers were shouting orders, firemen were running to their stations, mixed currents formed among the early passers-by, some running away, other timidly approaching. Red and blue lights started to flash in the shadows of the nearby streets.  I observed all this, transfixed, my mind in a turmoil, not knowing whether to applaud or to run. I was ware this was a turning point , a momentous event I was witnessing,  and a strong and nearly childish excitement was gaining me. This was Christmas, Halloween and the King Arthur legends all in one wrap. Magic was there.

James stepped backwards with me and the rest of the crowd when the giant chest started to rise. Amanda had propped her elbows on the rubble below, and cracking, breaking, and splintering noises accompanied the slow ascension of the majestic head in the glorious morning light, along with shouts from the crowd below. When she fully sat on the destroyed shopping mall, her arms around her raised knees, her head was already just below the level of our terrace. She remained there, coolly looking around here, as if shaking the remains of her dreams.
The tarpaulin that was covering her breasts slid down in a crumpled heap in her lap. A man standing next to me even let out a wolf-whistle.
We stared at her renewed stature, just sitting, she was dwarfing even more the little guys surrounding her at floor level, tiny dolls around her naked legs and bottom.
“Amanda!! Look here!! Hey!!” my heart jumped. This was James. He was laughing  and waving at her, leaning on the handrail.
“Stop it you idiot” I said, slapping him on the head. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“hey man, come on, have you ever seen anything more beautiful? I can die a happy man.” He was like a kid at the fun fair. I confess I shared the feeling, but with something else at the pit of my stomach.

She did not move for about two hours, simply staring leisurely at the urban landscape around her. She sometimes seemed to look at the men around her, but her face was a mask of serenity and calm, as if all of this was just perfectly acceptable to her. She did not try to touch anything…or anyone.

After a while the traffic in the streets around were chaotic, many newscars, police cars and army vehicles, pushing they way slowly through the congested streets. Half the town had awoken to the news and was converging towards the mall and its unique attraction.

It had been expressed many times that Amanda Singles, as well as the other women affected by the phenomenon, had little chance of survival. How the huge body seemed to remain intact in spite of total lack of food and water supply, and the simple work of gravity, was already a miracle. Also, it had been pointed out that if a consciousness had survived the initial growth, it would be now totally diluted in the enormous proportions of the brain, and that all the neural connections that make up one’s personality, were probably lost in the event. Amanda Single was probably long gone.
The being in front of us did not seem stupid at all. Her eyes weren’t vaguely roaming around, no drool was showing on the luscious lips. No incoherent sounds were coming from the vast throat. We were looking at a young woman peacefully enjoying the first hours of the morning, with a calm and composed face. Only her lack of interest for the chaos under her seemed to point towards something… odd. As for me, well, I was in love.

The two men that came close to her from her right were walking cautiously. Out of fear possibly, but also because they were encumbered with portable loud-speakers, some sort of camera and other paraphernalia. I recognised one of them. Frank Dooley. The man had become famous at the same time as his girlfriend. The other man was some army officer apparently. I ordered another coffee to a grumbling waiter and observed what would be known as the First Contact.

“Amanda! Amanda Singles!! Can you hear me?” came the amplified metallic voice. The two men stood a few meters off the young woman right thigh.
I expected no reaction, personally. I thought she’d would just ignore those gnats and keep looking around. But no, she immediately lowered her gaze to the odd couple.
“Amanda! Can you hear me? ….. This is Frank….. Your boy-friend…. Frank Dooley….. Amanda…. Do you understand me?”
The crowd let out a murmur when the blond giantess lowered her thighs, and leaned towards the two men, her right hand pushing back her hair behind her ear.  She did not seemed shocked or surprised, just…interested., a slight frown marring her forehead.
“Amanda, speak to me please. Do you recognise me? If you cannot speak, just give us a nod of your head. Do you understand me?”
Amanda looked at them fixedly, she seemed to be trying to remember something about the two men. The frown disappeared, and the faintest of smile came upon her lips.
“Amanda. You need to give us a sign that you understand me. We are here to help you. There is no need to be scared. (I chuckled at that). Amanda?”
She picked him up. Frank Dooley. The other guy was yanked up , as he was connected to him by some wire of sort, but it snapped as Frank was lifted in the air. I gulped hard.
She had not lowered her hand gently to let him climb on it. She had picked him up as you would a  doll. One second he was talking to her, the next he was a few floors up in the air, just in front of her smiling face. Two huge fingers were pressing on each side of his body. The crowd let out a collective shout. Down below, rifles were lifted, guns let out of their holsters.
Like many millions of people I watched as she just stared at him, manipulating him, leaving his head up, then having him upside down  and  prodding gently with a perfect and huge finger nail.
He had indeed captured her attention.  After some fingering, she just looked at him intently. We could all hear the whimper of the man , and see his efforts to disengage the terrible grip of her fingers.

And she spoke to him. Her voice came out suddenly, exploding in loud liquid vowels, making our hearts and guts vibrate. It was a beautiful sound, beautiful words, and reminded me immediately of the Elvic language of the Trilogy.  What she said, no one understood. It sounded like a question. The man answered with some less than coherent phrases, frenetically repeating her name and his name every ten second. Everyone I think shared the same huge feeling of relief when the wondrous sonorous voice resonated in the air. Language is intelligence. This was no beast, no brain-dead freak of nature. This was an intelligent being speaking to another.  And the First Contact had been made. And there were many questions to answer.

Frank Dooley started to introduced himself again, with simple gestures. It was obvious to anyone now, that this was not Amanda Singles any longer, but something entirely different. Introductions seemed in order all right. On listening to his answer, the giantess let out a giggle. It was an amazing sound, like a variety of high-pitch bells, resonating in  the morning, with a deep bass underlay coming no doubt from the deep regions within the huge body.
She started to speak to the little man in her fingers, holding a nearly two minutes speech, stopping at times to look at him with big smile on her radiant face. All over the world computers started their analysis. And then she did the oddest thing.

Lifting the man higher than herself, she craned her head back, and lowered him slowly in her wide open mouth .I don’t think he really had time to realize what was up, before he was well inside the rosy cavern. I stared in shock as I watched the struggling figure disappear in the gaping mouth. I just wouldn’t believe it. As she brought her face forward, I could well see some motion inside her motion. The faintest cries were even audible. The crowds around, the police down there, no one, absolutely no one uttered a sound, everyone locked in his private shock. It was as if, by saying nothing, by not moving a muscle, we would see her take the little guy out of her giant mouth, we would erase this strange scene.
No wonder then that the gulping sound she made, when she swallowed him alive came out as perfectly clear to everyone. Only then did the screaming start.

I did not scream, as far as I recollect. James and I just glanced at one another and stared back to the giant body, to a certain point  just below the left breast where Frank Dooley was most certainly alive and  about to be the first man to be digested so by a woman. Amanda stretched her arms above her head like a gymnast warming-up, purring with satisfaction. She looked down and spotted the second guys, in full retreat, and, still stretching her arms, she brought an enormous foot above the fleeing figure. We watch in horror as the foot’s shadow covered the screaming man just before it  landed on top of him. Amanda turned her head and looked straight at us on the roof top, while absent-mindedly crushing the man under her foot. A happy smile floated on her luscious lips. A volley of gunfire exploded from everywhere around.

As she slowly rose to her feet, the impossible mass of her body began to dwarf the entire district. The vast head passed first in front of our eyes, the perfect nose, the warm lips like a giant moving billboard. As her head and shoulders took off in the air above, two monstrous breasts nearly brushed against our terrace, each one the size of a truck. I gripped the rail , craning my head, as the vast expanse of her flat belly passed in front of my  eyes, a quickly moving wall of smoothed flesh. By the time she was fully up and standing, the blond tufts of her bush were just level with our little terrace, her vast hips drowning us in its imposing shadow.  It is then that I decided to start retreating away from the edge of terrace. Far, far above me, within the confine of the great body, a muffled shriek could be heard. I looked up to see, beyond the twin masses of the heavy breasts, the down-turned face of  a hungry girl looking for her breakfast.

Chapter 4

“Run!! Get inside!! “, someone shouts
Not a bad idea, I think. I do just that.

The shadow of the giggling girl is enveloping our little crowd, as we attempt to push through. An enormous finger appears to my right, and pushes me aside, with the force of a moving car, sending me flying to the floor. I just have time to see another one coming forward as it grabs the guy just next to me. I see his face turn in to a mask of terror as the huge tree-like fingers surround his body, And I can almost hear the silent “No. Not me.” expressed in his dismayed eyes. His eyes that are looking at me as he reaches out to me with his hand. In a second his scream is coming from far above. I scramble to my feet, push against the people’s back, press towards the door. Looking back, I see the man high in the air, coming closer to the huge face of the young woman. She looks at him attentively for two seconds. Her green eyes look happy to meet him. There’s definitely a spark in them. Then she sets him onto her outstretched tongue. I have a glimpse of two arms appearing over the side of the tongue, as the victim attempts to throw himself over side. But too late. His screams are suddenly muffled by the closing lips. I am at the door, pressed on all sides by other bodies, when I hear the uncanny  swallowing sound.

The room is a mess of toppled chairs and table and the floor is slick with ketchup and God knows what. I’m running towards the stairs, when the vast fingers crash into the glass façade of the little shop, in a crystalline explosion. Outside, the enormous face of Amanda Singles is covering the whole view, as she leans forwards to see inside the shop, plunging the place in near obscurity.

Yet another scream. I feel grabbed. My heart goes to my throat. “Not me” I think, right on cue. The man grabbing me is terrorized. I feel an incredible pull, and see the two fingers that caught his legs. He is dragged outside. And his fingers are sunk into my leg. I fall to the ground , among the glass shards, and toppled chairs, and both of us are being dragged towards the terrace. All I can see outside are enormous lips, on which runs the humongous tongue. No. I grab a small cement pillar. The man screams as his fingers let go of me. I see his body disappear in the air, out of my view, as the giant face lifts up, replaced by the smooth flesh of her stomach and light comes back into the room. More screaming ensues. I’m rushing down the stairs, among the echoing shouts of the fleeing customers
My mind is in serious panic mode. I just want to get out of here. I can’t believe what has happened over the last three minutes. I jump the steps as fast as I can, following the many rushing backs in front of me. Everyone is shouting. Floor after floor we go down, till at last we get to the exit.

There are conflicting interests at play here. Some people are desperately trying to exit the building. We can feel the walls shaking, as if some wild assault was taking place in the upper floors. Some others desperately want to come in, probably somewhat unnerved by the spectacle outside I guess.

I’m all for staying indoors; I sure don’t fancy coming to a close call again. Of course, in the general flow of the customers, pressed on all sides, I find myself standing in broad daylight, in front of the building. People are running everywhere. All the folks attracted by the awakening two hours ago are now far less interested in staying around. Somewhere on my left, gunfire is nearly continuous, like a loud waterfall. I turn round and look at the giant feet planted on the driveway of the building. My eyes follow the impossibly high curves of the calves, the immensity of the thighs till they reach the huge womanhood in the shadow of the thighs. High above, the naked hips are already deformed by perspective. Higher still, the vast body is well erect, looking all the more impressive that I see it for the first time from ground level. Hell, I couldn’t even reach her ankle if I tried. I watch as the young woman is introducing yet another squirming victim to her inner being.

She does not seem to be affected in any way by the myriads of policemen and soldiers who have been busy shooting at her for the past 15 minutes. I can’t even see the impacts on her skin. Hell, she could at least show some reddening, but no, not a mark Bullets must either disappear in her vicinity or re-bound on her like oil on a Teflon dish. No effect whatsoever. I start running to get to the other side of the street, as she seems busy with catching people close to the coffee shop building. Every time she bends down, her groping fingers flying past me. I feel sick with fear, before the sad pang of relief strikes again when I hear someone else’s wail.. I jump into a little alley between tow tall buildings. Any life form with an ounce of survival instinct would have been half a mile away by now. Not me. I have to see this.

The giant body seems to be covering all the surroundings, as she stands in the middle of the  cross-roads. She does not seem to be aware of the gunfire, as she crouches down, and snatches a running figure off the ground, and brings it to her mouth.

She absentmindedly steps on a parked car. I hear the metal go crunch, while shards of glass fly explosively in all directions, quickly followed by the instantaneous explosion of the tyres. The mass of the girl is such, her foot actually touches the ground. The car is flattened to pancake proportion. She stops and looks down at the metallic remains. As she crouches down to inspect it, her huge bottom is hovering a mere meters from me. I could touch the vast orb of flesh near me, and I must confess the thought actually crossed my mind. The flagrance of her skin is washing over me. A man is running across the street,  a minuscule figure crawling at a snail pace in front of the massive feet. The girl is looking down and her gaze goes from the flat car to the fugitive. She stands again, developing her huge frame (I see her well toned thigh muscles bulge ever so slightly) and makes a step forward. The giant toes catch the running figure and send sprawling across the tarmac. Her big toe is hovering over the prone form. I look up and see the amused smile of the young woman. She really seems to enjoy this. She slowly starts pressing her toe on top of the man, who is now crawling desperately in the deep shadow. I hear his scream turning into a quick gurgle, and in a  split second later the toe flesh is pressing hard on the ground. The man himself is no longer visible (except in the slick presence of projected fluids and guts). An unreal giggle resonates in the awakening city. With a pout on her face,Amanda Singles takes a moment to smear the reamains on the alsphat, all across a zebra passage.  Then, apparently satisfied with the result, she directs her attention down the street, where dozens of people are now running between the abandoned cars.

Walking slowly, nearly carefully, she applies her feet excatly on the frozen lane of cars, squashing all them in a screeching din of crushed metal. People are stuck between all the opened doors , and try to jump over trunks, only to disappear under the enormous landing feet. When the giantess has reached the end of the avenue (still looking very very large) she turns round and makes another pass. Any of the stragglers and injured are [i]methodically[/i] targeted by her naked feet. Two men are caught by the huge toes, gently herded aside by the round mounds of flesh and slowly ground against the base of a building, leaving a gruesome red graffiti. A cop is standing between her feet, shooting at her crotch (does he think this her weak spot?). She laughs gaily and starts crouching down. The officer is seeing the error of his ways, i think, and is already running, but the giantess has set her hands behind her on the ground (inadvertantly squeezing to death a woman under her flattening fingers) and, balacing her huge mass on the ball of her feet, lets her enormous ass hover above the running cop. With a slow motion, the enormous body comes to rest just on top of him (and a few cars) burying him under zillions of tons of ass. The young woman is happy with her stunt, and lets out a sound that I can only interpret as a playful "Oups" . A few minutes later, melted cars and squashed bodies are all that is left of the once busy street.
In a moment, Amanda is back where she started, just a few meters from my alley. I can see the vast feet resting on the ground near me, dirty and the soles somewhat covered in clotted blood.

She’s standing there, legs akimbo, her hands on her hips, apparently very pleased and excited, looking down around her, in search of moving things. She’s so tall, you can’t see the whole of her in one eyeful. I have to crane my neck to see the golden hair on her shoulders.  When three police cars show up at the other side of the street and come to a screeching halt, a big smile stretches on her serene face. She passes her hand on her brow and gathers her long blond hair around her ear and walks to them. The police cars have stopped and I can see some scrambling inside. Four officers jump away and run to the cover of the building. Wise. The third car is suddenly blasting backward in reverse gear. But already Amanda is settling her foot on top of it. I see the passenger trying to open his door. Too late though. In a second, nothing is left of the car and its occupants. When she steps away, she takes time to raise her foot and scrap the squished car from her sole. It crashes on the tarmac with a loud bang. Everyone inside is now less than a foot tall. I see the giant girl turn in to 23rd Street, disappearing behind the town-hall building and after a minute of hesitation, where I listen to a cacophony of screams and honking and crushed metal, well, I follow her…

By the time I reach the intersection she’s quite far in the distance. Most of the street is already nothing but a graveyard of junk cars and squished bodies. The rising sun is straight in the alignment of the avenue, still low on the horizon, bathing the whole scene in its rosy light. I see the girl stopping and looking up at it, putting her hand to her eyes to avoid the glare. The contours of her perfectly toned body (she was after all a yoga teacher in another life) catch the sun rays, emphasising its curveyness.  She’s looking at three black spots hovering in her direction. In a few seconds the spots’ blurry shapes have resolved into threatening-looking attack helicopters from St Andrew’s base. The dull vibrating noise of their rotors is reaching me now, as I walk along the building in their direction. The girl is just standing there, with an intrigued look on her face. Her hair has hardly been blowing at all in the morning breeze, it is  so heavy. But with the approach of the copters, the first locks begin to dance in the morning light. She seems delighted with the new arrivals.

I cheer, along with many people (not as insane as me, they are looking from the windows of the adjacent building not strolling like me among bodies on the street) when I see the trails of the missiles draw their cloudy lines on the sky in the direction of the woman. She just watches them coming and takes it. The explosions are loud enough, and even from where I stand I feel the sudden heat, while I crouch on the ground protecting my head. When the double fireballs that engulfed her torso finally dissolve in the wind, the young woman lets out a joyful laughter and suddenly jumps to catch the new toys. I can’t believe my eyes, when these thousands of tons of flesh suddenly leave the ground, her breasts swaying madly.  The giant hands miss the copters by quite a good distance, but the wind of their approach sends the machines in an uncertain revolving dance for a few seconds. The boom of her landing back on the ground shakes the entire district. Smiling, the young woman relaxes, and just sends a kiss to the copters, while a second salvo of armour-piercing missiles is already flying … One of them misses and comes my way.

I jump into the destroyed shop of a record dealer, looking for shelter from the coming blast. As I lean against the wall, awaiting the explosion, I stare into the poster of the “Attack of the 50-foot Woman”, pinned on the opposite wall. The blast finishes off what was left of the window shop. The laughter that booms shortly after tells me more than I needed to know. A man in the record shop is tentatively moving out to try see what’s going on in the street. “Oh my god…” comes his drained voice. Just then I hear a terrible rumbling coming from the far side of the street, followed by short explosions and a din of crushing glass. I step out as well. No longer interested by the copters, the girl is half crouched, and busy gutting the tenth floor of a building. One of her hand is propped against the angle of the sky scraper, while the other one is foraging inside. Glass and broken cement parcels are still falling down. The copters hovering above seem to hesitate to launch a third volley so close to civilians. The young woman is withdrawing her hand from the hole she created in the flank of the tall building. I can see through her half closed fingers a chaos of chairs, drawers, electrical cables.

Kneeling down now and opening her hand, The young woman separates the pieces of furniture from the people she trapped in the wreckage. Chairs and other objects are negligently tossed down on the street. Three people are apparently moving now in her palm. She grabs one delicately with her fingers and, craning her head back, lowers the screaming woman into her mouth, quickly swallowing her. She takes the other two, pinning them face to face between her fingers and deposits them on her tongue. When she swallows, her throat accommodates their passing into her vast cavernous inner body. The copters pilots have apparently come to a conclusion and launch a new salvo. The blooming flowers of fire send their burning flagrance down the street. I check again. Not a single strand of hair is singed. She just goes back to the building and enlarges the hole, like a bear attacking a beehive. Less than forty minutes have passed since Amanda Singles has had her boyfriend for breakfast and the two main arteries of the city already look like a war zone, strewn with debris, fires, and smashed bodies.

Among the carnage, a group of marines are making their way towards the giant shape of the woman, as she concentrates on catching the office workers above. I watch them take their position behind half-destroyed cars and resume their shooting. I know now what the little plastic green guys must see when they’re played with. (Although beautiful naked girls are not their usual customers, I suppose). One of the soldiers gestures to me to stay indoors, but I ignore this good advice and he’s too busy to care. The crisp machine gun noise is deafening. Some mortars are fired at the vast body. Some guys with complex communication equipment are shouting orders or taking commands. Every one of the soldiers look stunned and enraged by the total lack of reaction from the young woman. Magazines go empty, guns are reloaded. But her breakfast is in no way disturbed.

A rumble sound is coming from the building.  And it starts to visibly sway forward. From its base a sudden river of people is gushing out of the ground floor exits. The huge woman is letting out  a shout of glee and crouches furthers to catch a few runners in a big swap of her hands. She extends a foot towards the entrance doors and smears a dozen of the fleeing people in the tarmac. The marines have stopped shooting, with the sudden appearance of the civilian escapees. They can only witness with horror, as the girl is tossing the captured people in a big mouthful of wriggling bodies. The giantess is just starting to savour them, when the building starts toppling forwards, all its front support pillars damaged or destroyed by her insane foraging (and possibly some recent rocket explosions) We can see her start raising a hand to protect herself when the massive edifice crashes on top of her crouched shape, and into the opposite high-rise. An enormous rumble fills in the air as all the storeys crash upon the giantess. A huge billowing cloud of dust rush to fill the space in all the adjacent streets. Marines shout and crouch behind their cars, holding their helmets, and I frantically retreat into the record shop, grabbing a piece of cloth to my mouth. The next second, a storm of dust rushes past in the street and fills up the shop in its dense folds….

After a few minutes of coughing and spitting and eye-watering blindness, I attempt to look outside. The street is nowhere to be seen. A humongous pile of debris is occulting the length of the avenue, and the rays of sun are just about piercing through the heavy dust.  I hear the first cheers echo from the marines ranks. A second later, faces appear in the windows of the buildings about us, and the cheering gets louder. No motion comes from the destroyed high-rise and the mountain pile of debris. The giantess created her own doom, burying herself under thousands of tons of steel and concrete. We can still hear the drum of the copters rotors hovering above the incredible scene. As the cloud drifts slowly to the ground, I can vaguely see a huge hand protruding form the wreckage. It looks limp and lifeless. The marines are cautiously moving toward the huge pile. Coming in the opposite direction, survivors are being greeted by firemen. Everyone looks like moving statues of dust.

As I walk back to my car (which I had parked  a mile away, to enjoy an early stroll in the city), I keep spitting on the ground. My teeth are grinding on all the sand stuff I breathed back there. The first cordons of policemen and firemen are rushing to the scene behind me. The ambulance sirens have replaced the din of the firearms and rockets explosions. It evokes one of these catastrophe movies of the seventies. But in a way, the sound is nearly peaceful to me, its plausibility a welcome respite from the maddening thumping of the giant feet and the loud giggles that dominated the morning. I still have to come to terms with what I just saw.

My head is full of the terrible images of the morning. I had never seen so many bodies, so much blood before. I had never brushed with death so closely. My body is still tingling with adrenaline and I feel light-headed, walking like a zombie in the slowly populating streets (people are coming out in the open now, the news must have been broadcasted that the threat was over) . I look at the faces and see the shock that everyone is experiencing. I know that this shock is spreading at lightning speed through the entire planet. We got the surprise element here, but now I wonder how people feel that are living near one of the still sleeping giantesses. They no longer live near a strange landscape of attractive feminine shape. They live near an enormous time bomb. The fear that has been palpable over the past few months is going to turn into serious panic if a pre-emptive solution is not found quickly. Every human being is now living within reach of a new dominant predator. I still have on my retina the hungry look in the giantess’ eyes this morning. The satisfied expression on her beautiful face when she swallowed these people. The happy purring when she rubbed her vast naked belly. (I wonder briefly if they can get to her in time under the building’s wreckage to save the people  in her stomach) .
A thought comes across my mind. Amanda Singles was one of the “small” giantesses. What about the " BIG" ones?

At long last, I can see my car now. Like everything else, it’s covered in a whitish layer of dust. A news car is flashing past me, rushing to the site of the catastrophe. They have their task cut out for them today. A rumbling sound is coming from there again. Other buildings must be collapsing. I’m reaching for my keys in my pocket when I hear my name being called. “John!, John! Wait for me!” I turn round and see a man running towards me. It takes a second before I recognize James under the distraught face and dusty face. I wave at him. I never saw him leave the coffee shop. It feels good to see someone familiar suddenly.
“Start the car!! Start the bloody car!!”

A strange object is flying high in the sky roughly in our direction. It’s spinning real fast on its axis. I stare at it, as it reaches the apex of its trajectory and start descending and growing faster. My brain stops wondering at last and I instinctively duck as the huge thing silently passes 20 metres above us, and disappears behind a tall warehouse. I blink. It was a military armoured tank.

Chapter 5

There’s something about a dark place that usually creeps me out. Too many horror movies, I guess. “Let’s split up” they always say. It’s waiting in there, just beyond the elliptic light of the torch. It is crouched for the jump…and then, one by one…
We are splitting up now…

Each one of us is panning one of the aisles of the huge dark supermarket. I cannot be scared because the danger just cannot be in there. It is lurking outside, in full daylight. Dark places are now the only places where I feel safe. Bright places, wide open places are now the new criteria for horror. Over the past six months, each and every one of us has redefined his perception of what is safe or not. Crossing the street used to be risky. Now being in the street is the main danger. The vast derelict supermarket, dark as a tomb and smelling like one, is one of our favourite places now. Only fools don’t change their mind, I say.

The place has been raided so often, many aisles are virtually empty. But still we find a lot of useful stuff that wasn’t taken straight away during the Great Panic. Panicky people don’t think too straight. And they don’t go looking under the bottom shelves. That’s’ where most of the good stuff remain for us. We slowly fill our caddies. I can hear James in the other alley, foraging below in the hardware goods. Lucy is on the other side, checking the frozen food. (Sometimes they do function still). The brief flashes of their torch lights go dancing at time on the metallic ceiling like searchlights on very low clouds. It’s good to hear them so close. The four others are doing the same. We don’t talk, we don’t call. Oddly enough, the predators have a pretty good hearing.

There are some “clicking” noises one immediately recognises, if only from the movies. When it’s emphasized by a cold metallic contact on your head, it’s easy to add two and two together. I freeze. And raise my hands as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Turn round” says a feminine voice. I do so, and not too fast. It’s probably edifying for my attacker, but me, all I see is a blinding light attached to the head of a human form. Damn she’s tall though. I can notice that.

“Show me what you got so far.” Her voice is urgent and has a strained accent, as if she was suffering or out of breath. I gently push the basket towards her. She keeps the gun pointed at me, and checks inside. She seems to be looking for something specific.
“May I help you?” I say. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you?” I’m not over anxious. Probably some junkie searching for medical supply. (I noticed when we arrived the pharmacy had been totally looted).

“Shut up! ” she whispers. She’s obviously disappointed. I see the gun shake even more. Somehow her voice is not threatening to me. She seems upset now. I walk to her and remove the gun from her hand . (I’m a bit trained in this and she’s no killer I think). Easy enough. She  just stands there, petrified. I point now my own torch at her, as I put the gun in my belt. And I must say, I was hardly prepared for this. She’s has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Grey, pale, but the silvery kind. The long blond hair has been gathered in a knot. Her face is a perfect oval. She looks at me hard. She can expect the worst and she knows it. Recently a lot of good manners have been dropped by our civilized world. Survival is somewhat less than courteous.
“What do you want?” I ask her.
“Meds.” She answers. Figures.
“You junkie?” I ask very courteously indeed.
“No, me diabetic” she says on the same tone. I did not expect that. No  wonder she’s ready to take rather  than to ask. Meds are one of these things that go fast on the second market. Expensively so, and getting rarer.
For some reason I believe her. There’s something in a defiant attitude that tells me she’s not the bullshitting type. I kind of like her. And I do have insulin.
The others are around us now. The lights all converge to the girl’s face. They look at me interrogatingly. “A new recruit” I say. That’s my last offer to her. She takes it and she’ll last a bit longer than most. If not, well… She seems to understand that. “I’m Yana”, she says, holding out her hand to me. “John” I answer, my heart beating faster than I’d care to admit.
Amanda Singles’ breakfast was probably the most significant event in recent world history. For the first time since the atomic bomb, the world was once again united in a unique and shared fear. The giantesses were not here to bring happiness, or a message from Mother Nature or kinky post cards. Somehow, in the midst of mankind a new form of life had arisen that was bent on using us as… food.  Primeval fear that hadn’t been stirred for millennia just rose to the surface. And while Amanda Singles kept walking around our little town, destroying every human being she met, in a concert of laughter and gleeful words, totally impervious to any attempts at communication, a quick consensus was reached by all : we were in deep, deep trouble.

No conventional weaponry had seemed to affect the colossal woman. She had risen from under the collapsed building with little more than a puzzled look on her face. Napalm, missiles, rockets, mortars, guns of all size had been tested pretty fast on her giant body. They left no mark whatsoever. It was if her body just wasn’t there when the shells hit her. It has been since theorized that the huge amount of matter they represent, and that appeared out of the blue on our planet is in some state of flux. It is present, yet absent too. Like a Schrödinger’s cat lifting the lid of his box a million times per second. This could, they say, explain the total lack of regards they show to extreme temperature, explosions and other perforating  tricks of this sort we invented to destroy regular matter. Like I said, trouble.

I moved from my house in the suburbs the day after the awakening. The woman was still very much busy destroying the city centre  in a joyful manner, and had only once briefly moved to a residential district (which she had flattened in a few hours), but as evacuation was on the way, it was apparent she’d soon start and follow the screaming nutrients she seemed to enjoy so much. As I packed my things in the car, I could see her naked figure far in the distance like a weird optical illusion. I did not intend to see her too close again. It was a bit later, as I was collecting James and his wife at their home, thirty miles off town, that we saw on their TV the first pictures of the other giantesses.

In central Tokyo, a humongous shape was moving around, and feeding joyously on the inhabitants. Her perfect figure, graceful limbs and youthful face made her very reminiscent of the manga characters they produce over there. But the cuteness factor vanished quickly from my mind when a shaking camera showed her ripping off the top of an ambulance to collect the passengers on her tongue. She was easily twice as large as Amanda singles. That made her twice as hungry.

The newsman was obviously situated pretty high and when he panned down his camera towards the street all you could see was wreckage, and gore. The street was awash with blood, guts and greasy smears. Like Amanda the day before, the Japanese girl was obviously very keen on flattening the little moving figures at her feet and like Amanda, she was clear about not taking any prisoners. You could see her face rising over the various city blocks as she seemed to methodically stomp her way through the screaming streets. Sirens, screams, gun fires. All this reminded me of our experience here, except on a bigger scale. Her naked body was regularly disappearing behind buildings, as she leaned down, to re-appear a second later, emptying a handful of what must have been people in her eager mouth. She kept licking her fingers. The footage, that only lasted a few minutes came to a sudden stop when the huge body turned towards the camera and in a few steps the beautiful face was all the wide angle camera was able to capture as it came level with the operator and his crew, perched as they were on some terrace. The huge black eyes behind him seemed bigger than the man holding the microphone. Suddenly a huge finger appeared and crashed into the camera. All sound stopped. Yet the camera went on transmitting, till it penetrated a vast cavern of a mouth, where I’m sure I saw some moving bodies, on the threshold of a dark fleshy chasm. Then, all went black. I still remember the shocked expression on my friends’ faces, probably a fair reflection of my own.

A war had started, a war we are quickly losing today. As more and more giant women woke up around the globe, our planet became a very dangerous place to live, especially at first for the armed forces. Countless soldiers were launched to the assault of the naked creatures, ending up in a total fiasco and a very real slaughter. The flying tank I witnessed on the very first day of the Awakening was but a small demonstration of what was going to happen to entire armies in every nation. I got to see it with my own eyes, when we found ourselves unwittingly on some of the battlefields (meaning, in one of the dying cities). I have seen the blood covered feet of giantesses, as they stomped the battalions to cream on the compressed floor, a lazy smile on their face. I’ve seen the soldiers fighting for their lives, shooting their last rounds as the vast hands picked them up, to turn them into nourishing proteins. I’ve seen their firepower attracting a playful giantess, who would squash them by simply lying down leisurely on their ranks, squishing armoured vehicles under the weight of her thighs and belly and massive breasts, picking up the survivors around her body, to smear them into her skin. Beautiful enemy, but not a pretty war.

Nuclear weaponry was attempted three times, in Siberia, on some Indonesian island whose entire population had been killed, and in the South American Andes. The monstrous firestorms knocked the giantesses unconscious. But nothing we tried ever prevented them to come back to life a day later. Still, research continues along these lines, we’re told, and that now, is a scary thought.

As all infrastructures slowly came to a grinding halt, so did the supplies to the cities. With so many giant predators around walking in the ruins, and strolling in the countryside,( inadvertently destroying the crops under their indefatigable feet) attempting to organize  convoys became more and more risky. It was not uncommon to have lines of trucks wantonly destroyed by a passing giantess, its drivers eaten as snacks, and the vehicles flattened underfoot, as she simply passed along to go God know where. To be human and moving is enough to be labelled as food and consumed on the spot.
In that sense, train traffic suffered the brunt of their attacks. After all, to a hungry giantess, a passenger train passing by looks like sardines cans on wheels. They rarely decline the kind offer. For long distance travel, airplane has become the safest way to go from A to B (provided you don’t decide to land between the thighs of  a relaxing vixen). Still, it will take some time before mere giantesses prevent mankind from using its cars and many are the foolhardies who still travel.

And then there was …the Kink. That started later , about 8 months into the “conflict”. One incident was reported on the radio. (TV was on its way out due to power shortage and lack of working studios) . I remember the interview of a survivor of this group that had been caught by a roaming giantess. She was rather small, maybe 200 feet. She had taken twenty of the people alive, in her large hands. Then she had carried them over to the top of a tall building. They were all screaming and waiting for death by ingestion. But it’s not in her belly that they died. She proceeded simply by inserting them into herself. The man described the horror, as the first victim was struggling and shouting, sure he was going to be eaten, when suddenly she drove him close to her vast cleft between her thighs. The man had stopped shouting. And it’s in unbelieving silence that he was pushed head first into her vagina. With a gentle nudge from her finger, the huge pussy swallowed him whole without a fuss, and his trashing little legs were nowhere to be seen. The screaming resumed when she grabbed the next guy. He knew where he was going this time. The giantess started to express her considerable pleasure, and for the first time since the awakening, a city rocked to the sound of her moans. She started to use the rest of the group, playing with them, kissing them, rubbing them on her nipples, obviously aroused by their little bodies inside her or on her skin. She grabbed all the people remaining on the roof (to the exception of the interviewee, probably saved by her …distraction), then she lied down on the ground, crushing a few houses in the process and carried on pleasuring herself with her little lot of victims. Those she did not squash on her breasts with her trembling hands, ended crushed inside her enthusiastic vagina, under her buttocks, and a few disappeared from the surface of the earth, engulfed for ever by her anus. The survivor, who told the tale (but many other witnesses cowering in half destroyed buildings around could have testified the same) recalled the very last victim fell into her open mouth as she uttered the last moan of her orgasm. “Cherry on the cake”, a dubious epitaph.

So, it appeared that sexual gratification had been added for the first time to the somewhat limited range of actions of the huge women. Mankind had found its new purpose, it seemed.
The Kink, as it became known as, spread slowly throw the entire giantess herd, like a fad among teen-agers, and today meeting one of them in the open no longer necessarily means a slow agony in her digestive track, or a fast death under her foot, or ass.  Slow suffocation deep inside a orifice of hers is now a very real possibility. Oddly enough, the giantess, deep in the collective mind, left the ranks of the brutal T-Rex family to rejoin in a way the human one. Women they were at first, vast, voluptuous sleeping beauties, then they turned into voracious monsters, and now women they are to us again, thanks to the thunder of their pleasure. That does not lessen the fear they inspire in us, and is indeed a poor consolation.

I’m introducing Yana to our little gang. James and I have decided to survive this. It will take what it takes, and we’re just about starting to get more organized and more purposeful in our wanderings. We’ve also tried to offer help to those we met; now about twenty of us have join our efforts to survive and find a place to live in relative safety. For some reason I’ve assumed a responsibility I did not particularly looked for. But I do not have the luxury to think about it. We discuss the situation in the dark echoing space of the once thriving mall. I am explaining the general plan when I notice a few of the round splashes of lights on the ceiling again, as we casually hold our torches. One of them is splayed on one the Plexiglas domes that provide natural light during the day. I stop in mid sentence. “Switch off the lights!” I shout.

A second later some tremors start running across the floor. Getting stronger. Some shelves start rattling. Damn. Seen from the outside, punching through the ceiling porthole, our light must have been like a beacon in the dark neighbourhood. “We better move now” I say. And we start feeling our way along the interminable aisles, towards what we think is the closest exit. Outside loud thumps and crashing noises are clearly audible as she comes closer. Suddenly, a terrifying din of screeching metal and twisting beams fills the entire place. I watch aghast as the ceiling disappears, rolling away like an opened can of beans. The first moon beams shine through the hole, and a dim nocturnal light invades our comfy darkness. A second later a vast curtain of impossibly long hair pours through the opening, as a huge massive face takes a peek inside the mall. We hear the loud whisper she utters, in the liquid and strange language the use, like a girl trying to coax a kitten out of hiding. Large fingers come around the opening and start ripping off the rest of the ceiling. Debris crash down all around us.

I see Dave crumble to the floor as he gets hit by a massive piece of steel. We run through the aisle now, jumping over the obstacles, toppling the shelves and scrambling in the moonlight towards the inside of the mall. A purring sound comes from high above. A high pitched scream and Suzan is snatched away from our fleeing group. Her screams gain altitude as she’s brought straight away to the lips of the girl. I just turn back enough to see her disappear in the dark hole of the mouth. More light comes in, as the giantess straightens her posture to swallow Suzan more comfortably. The screams are more muffled but still audible for a second or two after the gulping sound. Then darkness comes back as the vast head looms closer again. A sudden punch through the ceiling and the entire structure in front of us comes crashing down , forcing us to angle our flight to the right, across the damned shelves. “Nononononoooooooo”. That’s Wilbur. His scream comes from high above now, and the  smacking of mighty lips accompanies it. We hear the brief echo his voice creates in the cavity of the slowly closing mouth. The gulp follows, and the humming of satisfaction of the woman above us.

I realize I’m dragging Yana by the arms, yanking her into following me. We crash into more hardware, as the hand comes back in. The shelves are being thrown about by the huge searching fingers. I hear one of us shout as two vast shelves collapse onto him , trapping him. I rush back to him. I  have difficulties discerning him in the dark mess. I fumble around, feel his hand, start pulling, just in time to be brushed aside by huge fingernails, which delicately proceed to push aside the heavy gear, and to dislodge the little snack stuck under it. There’s nothing I can do. I see two fingers gently grab a vaguely mumbling figure and lift him out of the mall. As she straightens again, I see through the vast opening the full shape of the woman. She’s is crouched above us, her vast legs forming a gigantic dark triangle, against the starry night. The vast belly and the majestic breasts are lit now by the moonbeams, giving the perfect skin an unreal bluish hue. Her face is picture perfect of course (we’re used to this strange beauty of theirs), high in the air, a radiant smile on her lips. I see her push aside her long black hair, as she bring the terrified man to her nose and sniffs on him, like one would a cigar. Her tongue passes briefly between her lips. She cranes her head back and casually drops our friend in her mouth. When her face comes level again, her eyes are closed as she relishes the gulping of her little victim. When she opens them again, I know Kevin is alive somewhere under this beautiful breast of hers. Not for long. Her eyes are reflecting the moon as they shine straight in my direction.

Yana hasn’t moved, transfixed by horror.  I rush in her direction. I can see on my right the huge hand advancing towards her immobile form, perched as she his on a toppled freezer. “Yana!! Move it!! Run!!”  I shout, but I can see she’s the next one to go. The fingers are nearly dancing lightly as they come close to the petrified young woman, as if choosing between her and some other victim. I won’t make it to her. Just as the fingers come across her body, Yana screams. At the same time a beam of light pierces the darkness and the face of the giant woman is lit by two crossing circles of light. She blinks for a second. As her hand moves away from Yana, I tackle her like a rugby man, sending both of us toppling over to the darkness the between the tall freezer aisle. I start push her in front of me, urging her forward.

I look backward. A mad laughter echoes in the night. I know that laughter. That’s James’. He’s running along an aisle, flashing his lights at the giant girl. She smiles at him. When she takes him, it’s very slowly and very gently. She’s amused. My friend is no longer laughing his madness away. I can hear him swear and struggle against the fingers that lift him up to the giant face. She’s taking a good look at him. Smells him too. James is shouting his heart out at her now. He sounds more furious than scared, yet I know he must be scared. I am. For him. I am frozen, scared stiff, unable to find a way. The huge woman starts standing up. I hear my friends’ voice grow fainter in two seconds as the impossibly tall legs never cease to expand. She s’ towering above us now, her figure highlighted by the clear moonlight.

I see the twin lights that James was carrying still sending circles in the face high above. Suddenly, they seem to drop, as the girl is lowering her hand to her crutch. A sickening feeling comes across me. The little beams of light are now circling the bush and the vast sex of the huge woman.  Flashes of rosy skin folds, screams of struggle, a slurping noise. I can’t hear James any more. The girl is pushing him deep into her with her fingers. When she straightens her pose, James is no longer in her hand. The girl closes her eyes, keeping a hand on her sex, and crossing slightly her thighs. She would look hot as hell if that pose did not involve a man being buried alive in her. She seems delighted.
A sudden light catches my eyes. In her other hand the girl is still holding one of the torch lights that James flashed at her, when he saved Yana. I see the young woman bringing the tiny object to her face. She has a sudden smile. And she pops it in her mouth, lighting briefly her teeth and the wet interior of her cheeks. She swallows it.

We've left the supermaket area and rush into the main lobby of the mall.The place is still half covered by the shattered roof,  and the darkness is near total.  I can only hear the shouts of the others to give me direction. Yana's shape is discernable just ahead of me. An enormous crushing sound occurs somewhre behind us. Glancing back, I can see the huge foot that has crashed through the ceiling. That's bad, she's no longer playing with her food, apparently, she's just after killing some tiny people now.  I hear urgent shouts coming from the right hand side of the lobby where a dim ray of light has been created by an opening door, with a red light above it. I rush forward, grab Yana by her shoulder and push her in that direction. We both duck when a second foot goes through the roof, this time in front of us. It feels like a locomotive has  landed in the place, a huge block of darkness covering the entire floor. I heard a weird high pitch sound as it crashed down. I've bad feeling someone was standing there a second ago. I don't wanna know. In the sudden moonlight pouring in from above, I can see the tower of an immense leg.Panels of metal and concrete fall around  us . The foot moves, hovering above the ground in our direction. We going straight into it. I push Yana down and we both fall on the floor as the massive object passes over our bodies, less than a meter above ground. It seems it will never stop passing over us (a drop of something falls on my cheek). It lands with a loud thud, so close I could touch it. I hear a steel bar crunching under it like vulgar foil paper. The smell is quite human. As we stand up again, the foot moves slowy backwards and the heel catches both of us in its swing. I'm totally winded as it projects us hard against a wall. It's our turn to land. I feel groggy, as I stay my back against the wall. The foot is lifting up into the air. Some hands drag me through the open door i saw earlier , I hear Yana's voice, muffled and far away, as if my head was made of cotton. She pushes me down some stairs. Another loud crash is exploding in the mall. I let myself be guided through the dark descending stairs.

Yana and I and a few others are still running in the darkened streets. A veil of heavy clouds has covered the moon and we run away from the mall, that the giantess is joyfully stomping into oblivion, just for the fun of it, it seems. Thankfully we don’t’ have to run too far. Before long we find the relative safety of an underground parking lot.

Yana has fallen asleep now, exhausted, after I gave her a shot of insulin. She looks beautiful in the dim glow of the emergency lighting. I sigh. She’s near me because James suddenly decided to be a hero. Well... I guess he just was. There’s no way around it. I feel the knot in my throat.
I come back to the surface. Far way I vaguely see the shape of the huge young woman who is strolling away from town and into the night. I hope James is dead by now. I really do.
Suddenly I have this nauseating feeling again, as the horrible thought comes flooding my mind once more: Kevin, Suzan, Wilbur. Gobbled down in two seconds... Looking at each other as the lit torchlight lands in their midst, in the middle of her stomach…..

Chapter 6

What is the strategy? What are the goals? In a word: What the hell is going on?

This is the obsession of every able-thinking human being on our planet right now. There is no doubt an intelligence is at work in this horrific pandemonium. Scientists of all nations are desperately trying to translate the strange language our tormentors use. It is thought that the word “yusloy” describes us. The term is often used during a “catch”, when the GTS seem to address  us, shortly before this encounter of the umpteenth kind turns into a dinner feast, a crushing feat, or sexual play.
Attempts have been made, using loudspeakers on planes or helicopters  to repeat some words to them, with the improbable hope they would have been unaware of our sentient nature. That only caused a few giggles, some incomprehensible retorts and mostly plain ignoring.

We’re under attack by some intelligence, and it is very unlikely it appeared among us. Some theories ran for a while of a  genetic project going wrong, of an epidemic of unknown nature, but the presence of this language of theirs has eliminated these hypothesises. They understand one another. The first witnessed meeting between two GTS has been well documented on TV. The two wondrous creatures started to chat in an animated fashion, laughing at impossible jokes, nodding approval. Their body language is pretty comparable to ours. And it was obvious their words carried meaning to them. But thousands of computer programs could not trace the basis of this language to any known lingo or even syntax. The meeting itself ended with one GTS feeding the other one, before attending to her sexual needs, using a multitude of tiny figures to enhance her pleasure. Was it a friendly gesture? Is there a hierarchy among them? Who knows…

The explanation is therefore today in favour of an external power. The GTS would be the product of an intervention from an intelligence far superior to our own, and therefore probably alien to the planet. Some groups argue the right to call it God, or Allah, or other divinity. But they sure have a hard time conciliating their gods’ benevolence with the current massacre.
As for me, well, my own theory is simple enough, and well shared by the public. Termination of our species. Like giant pest controllers, the GTS are cleaning our planet of the human race, for the future settlement of another race. The GTS are the tools of this cleansing.

And so it happens, slowly but surely. The number of human beings on the planet has started, for the first time singe the Great Plague, to dwindle down significantly. To say that the Giantesses are the cause is obvious, but the real factor is in no way the regular slaughter they perform during the day. Sure, a single GTS can kill a few hundred people in their good days, but mostly, our species has become master of disguise. The night is now our ally. And like the otter, who had become a nocturnal animal because of man, we are coming a day-fearing animal, because of the Giantesses. Mankind has descended into the night.
We all know it’s only a manner of buying time, the GTS will also catch up soon enough with our new mode of life, they will adapt, sleeping longer during the day and increasing their rounds at night, maybe even develop new techniques to feed on us. (The question of their cruelty is a hot debate: since they do not show any other "hobbies" , the killing seems to be their very nature, as giant predators, or their very function, as tools of elimination. Cruelty is somehow not the right term for them, it seems, but it could well be applied to the sourcethat created them.)

No, the real factor for the demographic catastrophe is really the crumbling of our organized civilisation. Agriculture has become a high risk activity, medicine and hospitals, concentrated in urban centres, have followed the same destiny as most urban activities. Travels are dangerous, food no longer crosses the countries, factories no longer provide the maintenance parts. Famine has struck hard many states, stating with the African states, no longer receiving the humanitarian aid. Then Eastern countries, with their high concentration of population, no longer have access to the massive food supply they require. The Western world sees its population struck by famine also, for the first time since a hundred and fifty years.

This is a bloody mess. And Yana and I are right in the middle of it. Our little gang has grown and dwindled and grown again, depending on the odds we met, the cleverness we showed, and I hate to say it, the mistakes I’ve made. We’re a hardy group, many of us have skills that prove useful in the field, and many have shown a courage I did not know existed in ordinary people. Many have prevented me from crossing dangerous lines. We get by.
Recently the question of survival has been replaced by the question of hope. Is there any for us? And if so, where is it?  We can no longer keep going the way we’ve been, surviving from one city to the next. We need a direction, a goal. It has been agreed that reaching the Northern places is our best bet for survival. It’s not enough to eke a living out of dying cities, we need a place to live permanently. North it is then. Hopefully we’ll meet someone who knows how to pilot a plane and will try to find one. Otherwise, well, a long trip lies ahead.

Tonight we cross the river. We’ve been hiding in the old church for two days now. Two giantesses seem to have dominion over this region. One of them is pretty small, perhaps 200 feet tall, she looks very young, her hair is short, boyish style, of a stunning red hue, her pale body is like a huge ad for perfect skin. She laughs a lot. The other one is twice her size, a giant chocolate-skinned beauty, with dreadlock the length of the church, and balancing heavily down to her behind. Her body is nothing less than sculptural, with well defined abdominal muscles and toned arms and legs. It seems the original woman was a fitness addict. (What is there left of her in this giant body?). We spotted them from afar, hiding along the derelict buildings, squirming past their giant feet in the dark, slowly progressing towards the river.

Last night, Beck was caught, as she was coming back from a scouting bout to find some more food in a mall she knew existed in the suburbs. Myself and Pete were accompanying her one this one. We had gotten stuck by the passage of the small GST, as she was idly strolling in the streets. We observed her, as she randomly destroyed the roofs of houses and had a peek inside, her long fingers foraging in search of a tiny human. She kept going at it really slow, and we got stuck at a petrol station, not daring to move. Watching her vast slim body blot out the stars behind he, we kept mostly quiet, (except for Peter, whose leery comments on the giantesses’ large assets had surely been a source of joy to the female members of the group)

Large GTS are so big, one feels a bit more confident when meeting them, our miniature shapes probably difficult to notice in the darkness. Small GTS like this are more dangerous, they are closer to the ground, perhaps enjoy a better hearing. You never know. The night was drawing to an end and we were becoming restless. A few hundred yards away the huge girl had sat on the ground, near a lot of small one storey houses. Under her huge ass, an oak tree had crumpled like a blade of grass. We shivered when we heard the first screams in the night. Bingo for our GTS, she had found a group of people, or perhaps an isolated family, foolish enough to stick by their possessions.

That was it for us. We scrambled into the night, in the direction of the church. We were going fine, when suddenly a train passed by, just in front of us, a dark shape rushing with sound of thunder in the night (trains were a sever liability for travelling, but countless convoys still crossed the night,  taking enormous risks to bring food and necessities to cities or military bases, or any “strategic” base. We had to stop and let it pass. It was going at a really high speed, but all rules of safety had vanished long ago. Only the goal mattered. Behind us a giggle of enormous power rolled into the sky. Vibrations came up suddenly along our legs. I turned round slowly afraid of what’ I’d see. The massive woman was rushing to us. Her eyes were dark pools in the darkness, and I doubt she was looking at us, but her massive frame was rushing forward, perhaps in the hope to catch the tail of the train (they were known to them as a good source of tinies, I’m sure). Large feet were stomping in our direction.

The train was passing by in front of us. It seemed to go on for ever. Behind us the huge woman was advancing fast. We rushed towards the nearest house. A massive form higher than the street was long was already filling the slowly brightening horizon. Her huge breasts were swinging madly in her haste. The train passed at last, and for a second, I was sure she was going to follow it. She could easily outrun it for a short while, even considering the difficult terrain ( that meant a lot of houses explosively disintegrating under her running soles) .
We just cowered in the darkness of the abandoned house. Beck was shivering with fright, Pete was livid, and I was shaking like a leaf. We stayed there for another half an hour, but I was getting really anxious about the time. Outside the horizon has taken the rosy hues of a bright morning. Sunrises and bright mornings are no longer a source of wonder, believe me. The air was still and silent. We had to get back now or attempt a dangerous daylight trip back to the church by the river. We decided to take our chance. I opened the door and scrutinized the surroundings. Nothing alarming. We came out of hiding and started to trot along walls. The street was littered with all sorts of objects, rats were squealing as we passed by. I just had time catch the movement from the corner of my eyes.

A shadow came upon us. From behind a massive colonial style house a giant arm was rising. The vast hand was already dropping down in our direction. Over the roof, the red dome of her head appears, and the next second two mischievous eyes appeared above the building. The huge massive body was resting obviously on the ground . As her face came in full view in the now dim light, a few words shattered the silence. “Caught ya!” was probably was she said. Her luscious and youthful smile was showing the formidable teeth of a happy predator. The next second the ceiling of her palm was upon us, as we rushed screaming towards the nearest house entrance. Two large fingers extended and surrounded Beck’s running form ahead of me. I heard the young woman shout in horror, as the pressure settled and her run was interrupted by a sudden take off. I can only imagine what it must feel like, feeling the grainy pressure of the warm flesh around you, seeing the ground recede under your flaying legs, as you rise above the house roofs, knowing fully that you have turned in a second from a living person into a mere morsel, an appetizer, that your next stop will be within the inner darkness of the giant captor. And that no one will ever be able to stop this.

I dived into the lobby of a big hotel near the train station, Pete, on my heels. I stop by the window and watched the vast naked body taking its full stature, as the woman stood up. For a few second all I could see was the vast feet and the beginning of her calves. Then more motion and the giant body sat on the roof of a building, crushing the structure. The woman sat cross-legged, and brought Beck to her face. I could see our friend screaming and struggling in the grip of the feminine fingers. The giant girl spoke to her, in a nearly soothing tone, making also some hushing noise, as if to appease her prey. After a minute or two, Beck had stopped her struggle and was staring into the large  blue eyes. She tried to speak to the girl. The giant girl was looking at her with curiosity it seemed, possibly surprised to hear more than a scream coming for the tiny morsel. A long smile stretched the sensual lips. She replied to Beck in a whispered tone, her face looked… concerned. I had never seen before a giantess showing any personal interest in us.  ( And I suspect to this day that what she said to our friend could have brought the entire situation under a different light but…).

The young girl opened her mouth slightly. Beck resumed her screaming, as the upper part of her body was introduced between the tombstone-like teeth. Delicately, the mouth closed, the scream intensified, got muffled by the closing lips. I averted my eyes. Not long enough. The next think I saw was the girl chewing slowly the little body, a trickle of blood staining her lips. In her hand two limp legs protruded from her fingers. Some loud Mmmmm sounds of appreciation boomed from the slender throat. I puked what was left of my long forgotten last meal. When I looked again, the pair of legs was being tossed in the vast red inside of the cavernous mouth. I rushed to the other side of the house, dragging a crying Pete behind me.

We crashed doors open in our rush, running in pitch black corridors, looking for the nearest exit. A loud crashing noise exploded above us. The hotel seemed to rock on its foundations. She knew where we were. The ceiling behind us crashed down , wooden beams piercing the plaster, the dim light of daybreak invading our darkness, in the sudden cloud of dust that penetrated the corridor. Above us, a flash of pink flesh, as large fingers started to break through the ceiling. I rushed into a door. It opened. Toilets.  I open the small window, crawl though it, my skin scratched opened on the hard wood, my jeans ripped through. I fall down in a bush. Packs start flying through, thrown by Peter and crashing on my head on shoulders. Pete appears in the narrow opening. I stand up and start pulling him out. We’re in a small alley, between the hotel and the next building. The crashing sound carries on, as the giant girl is prying open the hotel. Dust is rising from every shattered window above us, as we start running down the alley. A shadow above forces me to a stop. An enormous foot is flying above us, attached to it is the incredible length of her leg, leading to the naked crotch. Beyond, her upper body is too squeezed by perspective to be really graspable.  The foot crashed on top of the building next to us.

The walls come toppling down, as the edifice is suddenly leaning against the already destroyed hotel. The alleyway has turned into a tunnel. I keep running, hearing Pete’s laboured breath behind me. Playing video games is the closest I have been to war- like situations. I will never play that stuff again. Adrenalin has  replaced my blood. I just want out of this crushing horror. In front of me a massive finger is pushing the rubble in my direction , trying to find us in the interstice between the houses. I secure my packs. And dive under a long man-sized plate. It’s about large enough to hide, small enough to grab on either side. I grab it with all my strength as I let it collapse onto me. I have no idea what Pete is doing. Breathing is difficult now, the foraging noises around us are deafening, like a dozen wrecking balls at work at the same time. Far above a strange cooing is trying to coax us into showing ourselves. I look to my left. I see Pete, stuck under a falling block. His left leg is a messy red mass. Suddenly a large finger nail is obscuring my sight. It lifts the blocks around Pete, pressing against the walls nearby, collapsing them. The block that covers Pete is lifted in the air. I hear a giggle of glee. The massive finger comes back, this time with the aid of another one as they squeeze through the alley to grab Peter. His body disappears without a sound. I think he’s half- conscious. A minute  later, I hear distinctly a feeble yelp followed by crunching noises, as the chewing face is probably just above me. A swallowing noise. Pete is gone.

The foraging starts again in the alley. I see two fingernails appearing right and left of me. Lifting the plate of plaster I hang to. I muster all my strength. The plate lifts two or three meters, before being pushed push aside against a wall. I just hung to it , my struggling arms and legs probably too small to be noticed in the dark alley. The plate falls back on me and I find myself violently stuck against a pile of rubble . The stones try and find a way through my ribs. But she hasn’t seen me. The fingers are  moving further away, I keep quiet there for one, two hours, who knows. All I hear is the methodical destroying of the houses nearby. She’s thorough, I can give her that. It’s daylight now, and all I can do is waiting. When all noises have cease, I crawl out of my hiding place, grab the packs I can find and make my way back to the church.

The crossing of the river is going to be tricky.

We have many times seen Giantesses come to the rivers and lakes to drink. It’s also a place where they like to rest, their massive bodies disrupting the flow and creating mini floods in the surrounding countryside. I remember that small ferry that drifted on the large river south of here, its engines dead , its passengers screaming, and the mischievous woman who waited for it down the current. Her feet on both sides of the river, her naked body in her crouching position.  I remember the screams from the little boat when the huge womanhood started to lower over the passing boat, stopping it at first, crunching its masts and then sinking it into the fast flowing river. The woman had sat there for one hour, in the water gathering the swimming survivors that got caught against her thighs. A lot of them were clinging to her pubic hair, as if it was a safety line. it's not in the water that they eventually drowned...

Yes the crossing could prove quite a task. We all sat in the church, waiting for the right moment.
We have done our grieving already for Beckie and Pete. We do not have too much time to that any more. Yana is holding my hand as if she'd decided never to let it go ever again. I don' t want her to ever let it go. And I need this contact today more than ever. As we wait, a young student, Yoko, is telling us of her escape from Tokyo, the day the Awakened destroyed the city. We all saw it on TV. It was the first BIG  one.…..

Chapter 7

When it comes to feelings, I’m not the best. I have to admit that. I simply do not play it well. My head is just too full of hypothesis, preconceptions, scenarios and other ideas I have about what the other thinks. 90% of the time, I’m wrong.  I’ve been trying to put words on Yana’s behavior with me and I know I’m probably miles off course. Flirting in the middle of a world wide catastrophe is a difficult art. I don’t think I’ve mastered it.
It’s been two and half months since we found her in that mall, and she proved to be a very valuable asset to our group. She has some serious skills in scouting, outdoor survival, and her common sense is just what we need to kill in the egg the hair-brained ideas we come up with at times to organize our daily life. Whenever she speaks, we pay attention. I think my obvious listening to her actually has given weight to her opinions, since I’m willy-nilly leading the rat-pack.
Each time she speaks I listen, but there’s more to it. This feeling in the gut that makes me distracted and focused at the same time. I’m falling in love and there’s nothing to it. I have a multitude of ideas, as to whether she could develop an interest in me. But I’m just too dumb to sort them out.

We left the last city in poor shape. Beck and Pete are now memories that will fade quickly under the assault of the new dramas that certainly await us on our road. We crossed the river at night. The bridges had all been destroyed, either by the careless foot of a giantess or by the explosion of some truck or boat. Finding the boats had been a long quest. We got a few canoes though, that we found in the basement of a derelict outdoors shop. We even got the proper barrels to carry our stuff in. Yana and I had built a simple catamaran, linking two canoes with wooden boards and wire. This would allow us to carry our big stuff. Another team of four had done the same. The others had simple canoes, or even kayaks. In the darkness of the falling night, we looked like a gang of smugglers about to cross the border, as we spoke in hushed tone and moved our rigs stealthily to the river. (I always kept an ear out for the slightest tremor, or unusual vibration) . But the night was good enough to us, and no looming shape crossed the horizon. We started our voyage around midnight, in a hushed concert of frightened exclamations and mocking giggles. It really looked like we were going to pull this off.  The beautiful monster that ate Becky had appeared to us once in the evening, but far way and strolling happily towards the horizon.  We had waited a bit more, just to make sure.

It had been decided after all that crossing the river was not the best idea. As the flow was roughly going North, it was agreed that we’d be trying to let the boats follow the current for a while before attempting to reach shore. We all started to paddle quietly. It was the first transport we’d used for quite some time, since that train we hopped on three months ago. Myself, well, I wasn’t that thrilled. I did not like the idea of the long fluvial journey. I’d preferred to get it over with, cross the bloody river and carry on foot. But since I had no reason to give to the group other than my gut-feeling, it was decided to give it try. Hell, even Yana seemed to be in favor of the cruise. That made me cave in pretty quick. I should trust my gut feelings...

The weather was getting stormy, making the night pitch black. We decided to take advantage of the lightning. In the frequent flashes, and the light drizzle that started pretty early, I kept glancing at Yana, on the other canoe of our makeshift raft. She had found a lifejacket and looked like the monitor of an unruly bunch of teenagers, as she kept hushing people down and gave instructions to the less river-savvy among us. If it hadn’t been for the horror of the day, I ‘d swear we were like a holiday camp on its first outing on the river, excited and nervous all at once.
Once in a while she was glancing at me, and smiling too. Behind me, paddling away, Jack was asking me to “watch the road”, as he put it. I wasn’t too focused.

Our cruising was going fine, we kept it nice and center in the flow, a little armada of tiny crafts. The main problem was visibility. In a world where the slightest light was an invitation to diner, darkness was the common lot of mankind. The river was ink black, its banks a slightly different shade of black. And for bridges, well, we’d know about it when we hit one.
As the storm came rolling upon us, enormous drops started to pelt our heads and our glass fiber boats. The noise was impressive, it could have rained lead balls, it would have been the same. Darkness and thunder and lightning, the perfect setting for a doomed journey. The initial optimism seemed far away already, and we strained to see the river ahead. The giantess we met less than two hours after our merry launch was darker than the night itself.

Her body was huge. I spotted her first as a terrific thunderbolt exploded over us, and lightning struck not far away from our little team. Her black shape was suddenly reflecting the blue glare of the lightning, millions upon million of droplets on her sleek black skin highlighting her contours. I could just about make out her enormous mass resting on the bank. Her shape was only visible thanks to the sharp change in bank height. The lightning of the storm gave her the momentous allure of a fallen ebony statue. I took the near useless binoculars, and in the brief flashes of light, I managed to see the curves of her breasts far ahead like two dark towers over a massive wall. She was lying on her back along the bank a half a mile from us. Her feet were closer to us, her head a good 500 feet further down the river. I whispered to a frozen Yana to hold her paddle and hushed everyone around us. Our tiny boats were gliding towards the monster among the rising surges of the engorged river.(the storms had started earlier in the day in the far country, and the rivers were getting pretty loaded) As we came closer we tried to maneuver away from the haunted bank towards the opposite one, but the awkward skiff we built was taking ages to turn, and I did not want to risk breaking it with heavy paddling. I’m sure it would have been easy with an engine, but we were playing the cards dealt to us. The colossal feet were coming closer. Whenever the skies lit up, every  five seconds, I could see the many rivulets flowing from her massive toes down to her heel.

In the stroboscopic light, it was hard to fathom whether any motion shook the enormous body. Still, no sudden propping on elbows and gleeful shout came to us. I suppose for her the storm was a breeze and the heavy rain, a refreshing mist, nothing to wake up about. Yana’s face was a mask of anxiety, and the others looked just as unnerved by the silent threat. Their boats surrounded us now, everyone seeking the presence of their comrades. Their faces were hard , hesitating between expressions of fear and dark resolve. The opposite bank was too steep to consider it for the moment, it looked like the only way would be past the monstrous woman. The paddles kept bumping against the now compact group of canoes. Hands were reaching out and locking the crafts against one another. I’m sure I was not the only one instinctively pressing my right foot to the plastic floor of the boat, in search of the brakes. We observed the slow approach of the giant prone figure. “She asleep?” whispered Yana. ( I wished I could have reached out to her, but our makeshift catamaran kept our canoes apart). “Dunno” I retorted honestly. For all we knew, she was eyeing our boats coming closer, licking her chops.

Still she wasn’t moving. I could well recognize the dreadlocked black beauty we had spotted in the region a day or two before. In the intermittent flashes , her shape became more obvious. One of her long legs was propped up slightly, an improbable bridge parallel to the river, whose dark skin vaguely reflected the feeble light. Beyond, the curvy wall of her flank was coming to view. She was like a low hill to us, our little boats hardly the size of her fingers.  Yana was studying the opposite bank to see if we could possibly land there before coming too close to the predator. As I pushed against the paddle, I could feel the sweat running down my spine and my brow. The rain was heavy, the waterfall noise covering our whispers.  We kept coming closer. I indicated everyone to go for the outside bank.

We came to the level of her feet. I realized then just how close she was to the river. One of her foot was actually in the current, creating a visible eddy of white foaming water around the ankle. I looked hard ahead. If she was that close…. The long leg of the woman was passing by slowly, we could make out the formidable thigh ahead, magnified by the sudden flashes of lightning. All of us were petrified by now, and Yana was panting, trying to angle our course away from the amazing and lethal enemy. Individuals canoes were faring well, moving away, but the two catamarans were awfully hard to steer. The damn leg seemed to take ages to pass by, the bent knee was a dark mass somewhere high above us. Streams of rain poured from the dark wet skin.  Further away, the mounds of the breasts were becoming clearly discernable in the electrical bluish glare of the storm, dark pyramids rhythmically moved by her sleeping breath..

I heard it at last. The rain had slightly subsided, allowing more sounds to become prominent. The hard liquid noise of a dam. Directly ahead of us , in the darkness, the long arm of the woman was lying perpendicular to the current, the foam and waves on the suddenly interrupted river shining in the moonlight. We were heading straight for it. I goaded further my three companions, but already we were level with the huge hips squashing the river bank, a tuft of shiny hair visible on top of tall dark hill. Ahead the river was fighting its way through a dam of floating dreadlocks longer than the woman arms, and much longer than our boat. It was as if we were meeting a lazy kraken in a choppy sea. The flow was indeed getting choppier. The boat came to a near stop with a thud. Yana was nearly projected out of her low seat. We’d just hit one of the huge logs of hair that covered the current. The craft started to rotate wildly, pushing away the sudden obstacle. I could well see now more strands obstructing the way, gently being piled up by our advance. They were all drifting towards the outstretched arm. I looked at Yana, and plunged my paddle in the dark water. The current had brought our skiff to a near 90 degree angle with the river. We could hear the dull sound of the dreadlocks bumping into the flank of the catamaran, like vast crocodiles coming for a taste of us.

Slowly, very slowly, we began to angle our boats towards the bank, little duck toys struggling in the vast triangular trap between the high wall of the giantess body and her outstretched arm, lost in a floating landscape of hair. The Bermuda Triangle did come to my mind for some silly reason.

She was well asleep. The slow snoring sound of a dozing dragon could be heard coming from the dark shape. These babies have a sound sleep, it seemed. Behind me Jack was pushing angrily against the dreadlocks (nearly as big as pipe-lines) , and every rattling of his wooden instrument against the edge of the boat was a torture. We’d come to accept the large eardrums of the giantesses probably did not catch sharp sounds too well, but that was hardly a consolation.

The arm was coming closer, and the first heavy dreadlocks were already coming in contact with it, piling against the dark skin. Our boat was now moving towards the other bank, but we were still going forward.
“We’re going to make it . Just keep going” said Yana. I glanced at her and saw my own fear reflected in her darkened eyes.
The arm was near us now, a long wall across the river . The hand itself was under the water. We were coming straight on top of it. I could only guess we’d be passing just above the palm. There was no helping it, the current was just too strong. Hopefully it was deep enough. I could see the first canoes freeing themselves from the long dreadlocks and moving into free water. They had passed without problem over he submerged hand. I don’t think any of us had been breathing for the passed three minutes. On our right, gliding past us, the vast length of the giantess ‘arm was like a pontoon for us to land onto. “We’re going to make it” I thought to myself, wiping away the sweat from my eyebrows. That’s when I saw the other catamaran in perdition in the middle of all the hair, drifting happily towards the out-stretched arm, in spite of the frantic paddling of its occupants….

A terrible grating noise came from under our boat. We were touching something. The boat reeled as it hit the invisible obstacle. The grating noise rattled along our flat keel. Fingernails. We were touching the woman’s fingernails under the water. Our cargo, on the central beams we had built between the two canoes had lowered us in the water far moer than our companions. The contact on the fingertips was light but nearly brought us to a halt. The grating eventually stopped as we passed over the fingers. My heart was in my throat. This was insane, suicidal. We should have landed earlier. The lightning flashes showed the pale and tense face of my companions. Far away, the first canoes were already negotiating the next turn of the river. None of them had remained around to wait for us and I can’t blame them.

Next to us now the face of the giantess was turned towards the sky. We could see its profile even in the darkness following the flashes. Her eyes were closed all right. She had a beautiful face with high cheeks, and full lips. Her dark skin shone in the rain, and a rivulet of rainwater had formed from the corner of her lips down to her long throat. In the water, more hair was floating, like algae in the Sargasso Sea. We pushed it aside with our paddle, afraid we’d catch one and pull on it. If the weather was no concern to the giant woman, an untimely pulling of hair could very well disturb her dreams (do these creatures dream? I wonder).

I turned round to check on the last boats. A few kayaks and canoes were just behind us, their occupants slowly paddling, their eyes riveted on the woman’s face. I realized the second catamaran was not visible. Jack was watching too, a frozen statue in the rain, his paddle in mid air, his neck craned towards the rear. He looked at me, and shook his head. Wherever they were, by now they’d be real close to the arm that had crossed our way. Behind the slanted slope of the massive fore-arm, a tiny yelp suddenly pierced the air. They were in contact. A tremor shook the gigantic body, and it seemed the whole bank was rising in the air, like a dark wave. The woman had felt the touch of the little boat, and was readjusting her position. The high breasts rose in the darkness, her chest and belly rolling towards us, as she positioned herself on her side. I stared anxiously at her face as it turned in our direction, the eyes still closed. The arm was rising out of the water too, an instant waterfall pouring from it, onto the skiffs.
The hand itself had emerged, toppling a canoe, and flying low over the water, and came in our direction, like a hovering truck. “Duck” We flattened ourselves in the canoes, as the black mass passed over us. It landed with a splash in the river twenty feet from us, forming a sudden wall just in our path. The motion of the head had removed a lot of the hair from the water and the current took again its grip on our vessels. “Left, go left!!” I shouted to Yana and my friends. A vast open palm was waiting for us, again,  vertically poised against the current.

We paddled frantically, but our weird configuration made the ship so unwieldy. Before we could do anything the tip of my canoe hit the fleshy obstacle. I could feel the heat of it already on my face.  Then the rest of skiff went bumping into the massive thumb. Lightning struck a pole just ahead of us on the opposite bank. The eyes of the woman had just opened.

It’s hard to remember exactly what happened. It was dark, rainy, noisy. And it’s all lost in the adrenaline rush that overtook us. The hand suddenly disappeared, leaving our skiff picking up the current again. “Go, go!!!” shouted Yana. We grabbed our paddles and dip them frenetically in the water. Next to us a humongous black shape was rising out of the bank, as the giantess raised herself on her elbow. We could hear the bank crumble under the weight, loud splashes coming from whatever was falling in the river. As she started sitting on the bank, the massive legs  came into view again. The feet were dragging in the water, and I saw a large wave front rushing to us.
“Brace yourselves!!”

The wave hit us just as were turning in the current, suddenly lifting us up a good six feet. I heard cracks and the structure of our little catamaran broke apart, leaving us two individual canoes dragging the long planks along our sides. We started to rotate madly.
“Grab the barrels!! “ I shouted, already throwing mine overboard. “Jump out!!” Behind me I heard Jack splashing in the river, making the canoe suddenly dip my end. Cold water entered, blocking my breathing for a second. Yana and Frank were already in the water. Another wave was coming.
In the dark landscape, I could still see the four last remaining canoes, bright colored spots, tossed around in the current, full of screams. “Jump! Jump!! You idiots!!”

Above us a monumental shape had risen, blotting out the sky, a vast black form illuminated by sheet lightning. Her hips were an easy 200 feet above, and as she started to crouch, the long dreadlock came swinging over our heads like a second night. Eyes nearly my size were shining, reflecting the madness of the sky . And the white crescent of her teeth provided us with another moon. Bobbing and struggling in the current, I had a glimpse of tree-trunks-like fingers picking up the first raft. It rose in the air, water dripping in the rain. The usual insane giggle of joy boomed above us, punctuated by the storm thunder. The giantess brought the skiff to her lips and a horrible slurping noise ensued. She was slurping the man in the kayak (his legs probably stuck in the mess inside) just as one would slurp on an oyster in its shell. The empty kayak fell down from the sky, as she swallowed her tiny midnight snack.

The second kayak was a bright yellow, a perfect beacon. Inside a screaming Cassie had lost her paddle. Cassie had been with us for the past three months. The Filipino girl had been the center of our social life, so to speak, with her unfatigable energy and good mood. She’d be the one to choose the yellow kayak: she just would not be joining us in the doom and gloom of our predicament. I saw her attempting to extract herself from the boat, even as she was lifted between two massive fingers. The giantess hauled her overhead and started to shake the tiny boat over her wide opened mouth. In the lightning flash, I just had a glimpse of Cassie’s body falling on a vast elongated tongue. A shrill scream, and then a chomping noise, as she was chewed to pieces by the woman. A sound of satisfaction and glee escaped from the huge throat.

My head kept going under water. i kept swallowing it. With the heavy rain, I hardly knew when was under or when I was floating. Each time I was back to the surface, it took me a few moments to get my bearings. At least the current was telling me where not to go. I got rid of the light rucksack I had, trying to let myself be caught as much as possible by the current. A hundred feet from me, the second catamaran was still holding its shape, and our four companions were trying to avoid the ankle of the giantess. The ankle rose, revealing the long foot of the black woman. A huge toe landed delicately on the tip of the skiff, making its rear rise above water. Wild shouts came from the occupants. The giantess gave a brief laugh, and poised her foot just on top of our friends, and slowly pressed them under water. She kept them like this for a few seconds. I could imagine them pressed into the inside of the canoes, a ceiling of wet flesh imprisoning them, while the water flooded the narrow compartment. The leg went finally ankle deep in the water, the boats under the sole squished deep into the silt below.

The giantess turned her attention to the last kayak. I saw a flash of color on my right. Yana. I swam desperately in her direction. Her head was well above water, she was swimming fiercely in my direction too.
“Take it off!!” I screamed. “Take it off!!”

She kept swimming towards me. Above a scream pierced the thunderous blackness. I looked up just in time to see a minuscule form being lowered towards the vast hips. It was too dark to see anything, but I had an idea of where it was going. These creatures are sure practical-minded, they never lose an opportunity for fun…. I reached Yana at last. “Take it off, take it off now!” She grabbed my shoulders, her face a mask of sheer panic. She just would not hear me. The current was dragging us, and half the time our heads were under water. I pulled Yana to me, dropped under water, my hands all over her body. (She must have thought I was a hell of a pervert to take advantage of her at a time like this) . In absolute darkness, I got to the buttons of her life- jacket, in the last few seconds of oxygen left in my lungs, I fumbled madly at them. I came back to the surface, freed a hand, and grab my knife, before going under, feeling Yana’s struggling body above me. I cut through the straps and yanked hard on the life jacket. When I came back to the surface, the bright orange vest was floating away from us.
Two seconds later a vast hand came looming upon us. It passed over our swimming form and went straight for the life jacket. The huge fingers lifted it out of the water. A second later, a grunt came from above and the little object was discarded.

The vast body advanced on us, truck-sized feet lifting above water, sheets of water pouring from its massive toes before they crashed back into the current. The right foot descended just 10 feet from us. Above the huge legs passed over us like vertical trains. The huge (and generous) ass of the woman was poised hundreds of feet above, her back a mess of long hanging dreadlocks. She kept advancing further downstream, towards the turn of the river. We were nothing but tiny black specks to her, in a black river of ink. I don’t think she could have found us, even in a clear night. I felt a hand on my shoulder, along with a labored breathing. Jack had joined us. He grabbed Yana’s arm, and the two of us started to swim towards the shore, supporting our friend.

We reached a silt covered bank, just as a disappointed giantess came walking back. I pushed Yana into the muddy beach, and we frantically covered each other in dark mud, before crawling to ward the tree line. Behind us, the giantess was pushing her fingers in the water, in the hope maybe to catch some swimming stragglers. In the near total darkness of the forest, we started to run, our arms outstretched, banging into trees, slashing our faces against low blanches and bushes….

The morning after was dedicated to finding our gear. Most of our barrels had drifted and landed on the shore. Those that landed on the other bank were recovered with the remaining canoes. Our companions, those who had been lucky enough to avoid the giantess, had managed to hide downstream, and a lot of our stuff was salvaged. Still, seven  of us had found their death in the nightmare.
The giantess was nowhere to be seen, in the bright and clean morning that followed the storm. We could see from afar the deep gashes her feet had created in the banks of the river, but it made sense to think of her as gone to better pastures, the nearest town for instance…

Yana was shaken by the ordeal, as we were all. But there was a tacit pact between us all about mopping. Crying for the lost ones is normal. And more than normal, it’s cathartic and healthy. Yet it is a private grief, and most of us avoid too much exhibition of feelings within the group. We acknowledge their departure with a symbolic tomb, myself giving once more the awkward parting speech,  now sadly a fairly routine matter.

We moved on, not waiting for the night. No point hanging around a region we knew was infested with giantesses. Keeping within the woods allowed us good cover , if slow progress.

The only incident of the day was this small clearing in the wood, surrounded by smashed trees. In the middle of it, a brown mound was crying for our attention, a dreadful sign of their activities. We passed as far away as we could.

Such signs of biology are disturbing, and god knows we keep meeting those. Hell, the whole mankind has to cope with those. Giantesses, for all their mystery and insane impossibility, are being like all beings. What comes in comes out. Their less than elegant traces are always a sharp reminder of our current condition. Food we are to them, and as food we are processed in their giant intestines till the final outcome. Meeting one of these huge heaps of shit is always a shock. It’s like stumbling on an open mass grave. Since their arrival, no records exist of the giantesses feeding on anything else but humans, another proof of their specific design, in many people’s opinion. And it takes a lot of people to create the big mounds.
I still remember with disgust the sight I once saw in a big city, where a blond and angelic looking giantess was taking a crap in the middle of the street, in front of the very people she was busy ingesting. Those latter had no illusion left about their fates….

That night is the night we made love for the first time. Yana and I had decided to scout for a decent clearing or trench to set camp. We found it after one hour of circling the place where the group was staying, apathetic and exhausted. (We always have our GPS with us, getting lost is not an issue). We found eventually a suitably spot. I had sat against a trunk, in a puddle of light created by  peaceful rays of sun that were cutting through the foliage. Yana sat next to me, and we stayed there for a while, listening to the birds and taking in the quietness of the forest. I gave Yana my water bottle. I was happy then, with this sudden and near obscene happiness that comes after a catastrophe, when you realize you’re still alive to see the world. My shoulder was touching Yana’s and for all I cared, the world was turning properly again. I felt a tug on my sleeve, and instinctively reached out to get the bottle back from her. What I got instead was a stronger tug, and the sudden vision of Yana’s face coming closer to my own. Before I could register anything, her lips were pressing on mine, and an embracing pull was turning me around against her.
I must have stayed dumb for a second or two, ‘cos she moved her face away from me for a second, a serious look on her face. I know I’m dumb. I don’t look it, but I am. I’m so damn slow when it comes to this. I just stared at Yana as if she had turned into a giantess. “Yana…” She put her fingers on my lips, smiled, and replaced it with her lips again (and a tongue that did not take no for an answer). I could feel her body pushing against mine, her smell permeating my breathing. I did get it after an extra microsecond of wonderment and when I did, a wave of heat just overtook my whole being, submerging the world, the giantesses, and all the horrors of the past days.
The goofy face I exposed to the group one hour later must have been quiet obvious, judging by the few smiles I got from some of our companions.

Later during the evening, our radio picked up the information the whole planet had been waiting for: the first sighting of the fall of a giantess.

Chapter 8

I cannot find any limits to her body. Nor can I have enough of it. As my hands caress the soft skin, exploring the never-ending contours, following their long journey along the thighs. I get lost in the contemplation of the vulva that is looming above , ready  to crush me. The canopy  of her great body is covering me in its shadow, as she starts leaning down on me, two perfect breasts hanging beyond the  smooth flat stomach. Her labia are so close now I can see nothing else, being all i ever want to see. I nearly brace my self when her wetness comes crushing on me. And I sure gasp when I feel my tool engulfed down below in the wet embrace of her mouth. In the next few minutes, Yana is just as large as the world, and no giant girl could ever compete with her for sheer adoration.

When we're both finally spent on the soft grass of our little hidden niche, she snuggles into my arms, as I cover her with the rough fabric of my coat. I have made love before. And am no noob at the games we play. Yet it is with undiluted wonder that I labor to get my breath back. Making love is one thing, making love to her is just beyond words to me.
I guess we're in love. That's a pretty much established fact by now. No matter how hard I pinch myself, her warm and  strong body just refuses to disappear in the proverbial puff of smoke. To me, this is just as remarkable as the existence of the giant women that plague our days. But neither Yana nor the giantesses  seem willing to vanish into the blaring of an annoying alarm clock. This is as real as it gets, the bliss and the horror.

This has brought the entire journey North into a very different perspective. I have been, for lack of reason and luck, so much in contact with the beautiful predators, I had almost accepted than one day, one of them would eventually make me her little snack. I have even fantasized about the sudden pressure of her enormous fingers on my hips or legs, the quick ascension to the luscious lips. I have many time pondered about the screaming sensation of the fall within her throat to the waiting furnace of her stomach.  I knew I was taking insane risks at times, and I knew i was living on borrowed time.

Yana's presence has changed my views on such situations. The huge woman hunting out there are now longer just the possible reason of my untimely death, they are also a threat to the girl I love, and their hunger the probable end of this budding relationship. Now, whenever I meet one of them, strolling around, her eyes scanning the ground for food, her feet squashing screaming heaps of metal under their soles,  I feel the hate raging inside, and more importantly, I feel the fear. The fear that this girl there, projecting her shadow on half a city , could be just looking to finish off my love.
What was a desperate game among the ruins of our shattered world, a hopeless and daily gamble, full of thrills and adrenalin, and yes, sometimes excitement, is now a far more serious challenge. I want to live now more than ever in my life before. I want Yana to live, and the video-game quality of this absurd catastrophe has been replaced by a despair far more poignant than our usual little heroics.

The little people in the shattered metallic cylinder are screaming of course. What else can you do? The girl has short blond hair, a boyish cut, and it highlights her soft face and long neck beautifully. Her smile is lovely, pierced by the whiteness of her perfect teeth. She's reclining on the tarmac, while her feet, a good 400 feet farther, have dug long trenches in the airport lawn. Her body is impossibly pale, reflecting the light of the high noon sun. The other girl is more athletic, her tanned body in sharp contrast against hers. Her curly dark hair is flowing over the milky skin of her lover. She's latino looking, her lips full and her eyes as dark as night. She also harbor a beatific smile. One notices at a glance she's about half the size of the pale girl, and her hands are stroking legs that could easily pin her to the ground, in spite of her stockier body. Between them, the plane is lost in their shadows, its wings nicely clipped off, and now the simple and handy receptacle for the tinnies inside.

We had planned all along to get to the airport. None of us know how to pilot anything, but this did not seem enough to deter us from going there, in the hope a survivor there would indeed be able to lift some of us to safety.  It was a plan as good as any, and I was adamant we should try before moving on to other options. We arrived just in time for the carnage.

Judging by the smoking pile of debris down the runway, the plane had indeed attempted to lift off or to land today, in broad daylight. What the hell were these people thinking? It's not a little private jet, easily scrambled for emergency, it's a liner (I've no clue which type, mechanical prowesses being the least of my interests), containing a good fifty people. Were they on a super important mission, warranting this reckless move? Were they forced to land prematurely due to some mechanical problem? We don't know really. We heard the commotion, saw the billowing smoke rising, and had cautiously reached the top of the near-by hill to investigate. The five of us scouts are now watching the scene in our binoculars, hapless witnesses of this drama.

Sky-scrappers were always good at giving you a real sense of scale whenever dwarfed by the humongous bodies walking among them. Planes do a pretty good job too. To the two giantesses reclining on the tarmac, the liner looks like a toy, and the fingers of the blond girl are wrapped nicely around the metallic tube. It does look as if the flight or landing has been brutally curtailed. The nose part of the plane is somewhere on the lawn next to the girls, either ripped of by the shock of the interception, or manually removed by them. Inside the habitat, people are screaming. I can see them as they move by the windows. In the distance, the airport buildings look crumpled and bare. I'm sure a satellite view of them would reveal the exact foot steps of the giantesses among the ruins.

The two girls are enjoying the sun, and I can feel myself my back roasting in the sunlight, sweat pouring down my shoulder blades. Next me, Yana often wipes away her brow, before resuming her observation. The blond girl is also enjoying the attention of a more diminutive friend. The little hands keep stroking the vast breasts, as the latino girl kneels between the large thighs that dwarf even her. Once in a while she applies her belly to the Venus mound of her large lover, in a motion that brings moans to the  jean Seberg look-alike. The blond girl bring the plane over her belly. She  gives it a little shake. Like pepper grains , some wriggling shapes fall onto the pale skin, some directly into the navel. I see a man struggling at the bottom of the near vertical cylinder, his arms probably wrapped around a safety belt while the girl smiles at him shaking the plane to make let go. He obligingly does so, and the girl's smile stretches gain when she feels his body landing on her belly.

The latino girl between her thighs is delighted too. She grabs a running form and hold it close to her eyes, babbling her insane language. She winks at the blond Swedish-looking girl, who laughs and opens her mouth. It takes some targeting and much laughter before the brunette launches the man towards the  wide open maw.  I can hear him scream easy enough. He bumps just below the lower lip, his body dropping into the giantess neck and towards her breasts. The brunette leans forward, crushing two men under her own breasts into the soft pale skin while doing so, and takes him again in her fingers. The guy must be seriously stunned, yet  can see his legs struggling. This time he lands on the girl's nose, and she just has time to catch him in her hand, with a laugh, before dropping him into the brunette's hand again. The third time is the good one. The guy howls with fear (and rage I'm sure at being used so), as he dives into the red cavern, passed the beautifully kept teeth. The receiving girl is surprised and closes her mouth shut immediately. She obviously got him straight in the throat, and has swallowed him instantly. She looks amused, opens wide and shows the other a vast and empty tongue. Much giggling and clapping ensues. This is so much fun. The latino girl has already caught a woman and is aiming cautiously.

I look at Yana, next to me and see the tears flowing gently down her cheek. On the binoculars, her fingers joints are white. I gently lower her instruments and she turns red eyes in my direction. I just nod to her to go back to the others. She nods back, sniffles, and starts descending the hill back. The rest of us, just keep watching. Whatever is in that plane could be useful.

The woman is screaming even louder than the previous guy, as she flies towards the large moist tongue stretched out to receive her. We see her bumping into the face, falling down on the breasts. Screaming again, falling again. By the fifth trip , when she finally enters the cavern, we do not hear anything. She must have been dead or unconscious. The blond girl smiles, seems to slurp on the little body (I can see two feet fleetingly appearing between the large lips), then swallows happily.

She grabs a man who'd been dumb-stricken in her navel. To her the guy is so tiny, much more so than for the latino girl. For this latter, the snack is definitely more consistent and she opens a greedy toothy mouth for him. The vaster girl just position him above the twitching tongue and, after amusing herself at his flaying legs and high-pitch cries, let go of him. The brunette receives him , closes her mouth and noisily sucks on his body. She fetches him out once or twice, to dangle him over her head, with a giggly comment. When she lowers him fully  into her mouth, she keeps his ankles between her fingers as she chomps his legs off.... I hear a gasp near me. We're not all immune to this gruesome show. Finally, after much chewing , the girl pops the legs into her mouth and swallows her prize.

The “Swedish” girl  is bringing the plane again. As she does so, a tiny figure flies out and falls down, on her hip first, then on the tarmac a few meters below. He no longer moves, probably broke his back, I think to myself.  Yet I see his arm rising up as a tiny motion from the giant girl makes her buttock roll over him. He squishes like a grape under the girl, who hasn't even noticed.
She's too busy shaking the container again. I guess the people inside have braced themselves fro the motion, as nothing comes out but a few suitcases that rebound on the elastic skin. A pout of disappointment comes to the large lips. The girl brings the cylinder to her face and peers inside.  Can only imagine the vision of these gigantic blue yes,  suddenly replacing the cockpit , and peering at you, as you hang on to your seatbelt. A clamor comes from the inside of the plane.

She now start peeling off nicely the cylinder itself, as one would roll away the skin of a banana, or opening a sardine can .  You can see clearly the passengers still sitting there, as the walls around them disappear under the pressure of the huge fingers. The latino girl offers to help apparently. She has more nimble fingers. She rips the seats one by one and let them on the belly of the other woman. The passengers, still tangled in the belts are trying frantically to free themselves, only to find themselves kneeling on the warm skin, under the vast smiles of their tormentors. I notice fleetingly that a lot of them seem to be military personal. I make a mental note of that. It is obvious this plane was moving in daylight for a reason. When a few people have been extracted, the girls leave the plane alone, and return their attention to their catch of the day. The larger one picks up a sit with its passenger still attached. She gobble the whole lot and proceed to noisily chew the man and the sit . She's not a connoisseur, just a hungry girl.

The latino woman has grabbed a fugitive, and is now lowering him towards the vast crotch of her lover. I watch her fingers gently stroking the large labia, already wet from their earlier foreplay. The little guy should probably start watching his life passing in front of his eyes now, but  I suspect the sight of the vast rosy and fleshy folds coming to him are keeping his attention focused. The smaller girls struggles a bit against the wet flesh in her effort to open it up fully. A very different cavern starts opening up now, abut the dark inside is just as ominous than the large mouth that consumed the earlier victims. She starts pushing the man into the whitish pool that has gathered at the base of the opening vagina. When she's satisfied his body is nicely lubricated, she forces him inside, pushing her finger fully  into it. A gasp of pleasure and delighted surprise escapes the lips of the blond woman.

Already her friend is separating a passenger from his seat. His screams lasts for a few seconds as he sees the throbbing hole hes' been directed to.  His legs are introduced first and I see his tiny arms beating against the fingers of his captor. He looks so insignificant a speck against the rosy landscape of tortuous folds that begins to swallow him. I guess his confusion must have been total when an another big mass of flesh descended upon him to push him deeper inside. The latino girls is tonguing him deep into the hole now. Her position is near comical, dwarfed as she is by the large thighs around her, her ass proudly lifted towards us, as she busies herself against labia nearly as big as her own face. The screams disappear quickly and she returns her attention to the lower belly of her giant friend to get another one. The guy trying to hide in the blond pubic hair, is just what she's looking for.

It really is a problem. I have seen this before. The Kink is one of the good old constants of our new world. Nowadays, a miscalculation in your movements, some bad luck and you either get gulped down, squished under sole or drowned in vaginal fluids. This is now a given for the entire human race. That is, if hunger and disease and gun fire haven't finished you off before. We do not live peaceful times. Yet, despite the horror, the Kink is indeed a fascinating show. I'm sure I'm not the only one, whose carnal instincts have been stirred by the sheer beauty of the giantesses, no matter how cruel they seem to us. I remember the early days, when the Event had started, but not yet bloomed into its full potential. When what we had was a bunch of beautiful young women sleeping on top of our towns, in their glorious nakedness. Th excitement that followed the Event wasn't entirely intellectual, for a good half of the human population. The jokes had flourished, the pics taken over the net, hell, many attempts took place at that time, by many imbeciles, to reach the “privates zones”, as they were called. Hell, how many soldiers, assigned to the safe-keeping of the giantesses lower regions had filled their dreams with this impossible intercourse. Well, it did not take long before intercourse and other sexual encounter became part of the menu imposed on us by the now active beauties. So how do we cope with that?

I watch the third guy being stroked to death against an enormous engorged clitoris, while bellowing moans of pleasure shake the silent airport. I watch him feebly fight the motion that crushes him into the hot wet flesh that he used to crave for  as a teenager and then a man. To him, biology has becomes a larger than life lesson, as he became an anonymous  dildo  in the fingers of two excited girls. I feel the stirring of my own manhood, pressed against the hard ground, as I watch the delicious murder taking place in front of me. I do not want to enjoy it. I do not want to draw joy from this. I avert my eyes. Down the hill behind me, I see Yana talking to the others. I come back to reality, as if receiving a sudden cold shower. This is love, real love, the way we're meant to have it. I take my binoculars again. But not before noticing the redness on my companion's face near me. Hell, what's happening to all of us, that we come to enjoy the very creatures that kill us? I come back to the show just in time to see the little woman inserting a shreaking soldier girl into her pussy. There's s less room obviously, more struggle, and more enjoyment apparently.

We keep station near the wood that surrounds the airport. The Kink went on for hours. There was indeed a lot of personnel in that flight. We watched as the giant blond girl leaned against the smaller one, arousing her and playing with her, returning the favor. They gulped down the remaining passengers lazily, lying on their back across the runways,  the now fully opened plane between them, chatting the evening afternoon away, while taking their victims in their mouth as so many grains of popcorn. Many of them got caught in the wild French kisses that the girls exchanged now and then, many of them left red smear marks between their breasts and belly. A few disappeared in a place where the sun never shines, their last prayers lost among laughters and moans.

What are they possibly thinking these impossible tourists on our little planet? What are they talking about , between their mouthfuls of people, and their murderous sex rumps? Here we are, a gang of about a hundred people today,  shivering with fear in the woods as we observe the two women enjoying their vacation. How more absurd is this whole thing going to be? It is common knowledge now that whatever they say is probably trivial. Unless the recordings and subsequent computer analysis totally miss subtle variations in tone inflexion and phoneme distribution, the alien language used by the giantesses does not seem to be able to carry enough permutations to allow a vast vocabulary and ponderous significance. We are left to hypothesize that indeed the communication among them is minimal, probably just about covering their areas of interest, such as food taste, sexual positions and giving directions for fruitful hunting. The giantesses appear to be happy, not because they are submitting our world, but because their needs are easily fulfilled by simple tasks. Whoever or whatever sent them to destroy us, did not see the need to provide their instruments with more than a basic intelligence. The giantesses' good mood is about the most infuriating characteristic their possess.

We do recover a man from the wreckage. He was simply hiding in one of the toilets, covered under safety  vests. A simple plan and one that paid. He's shaking like a leaf, totally shocked. Yana is escorting him outside now, to get looked after by our few nurses. It is strange to walk in the plane. It is empty of people now. I saw them all being dispatched, one after the other , in hunger or lust. Suitcases and stuff hang from lockers. The stars are shining upon the desolation, through the opened-up roof. I pass my torchlight upon every corner of the wreck. (Its beam is red, as we suspect this is less noticeable to them  ). I do find a strange suitcase, metallic and battered nevertheless, with a military sign engraved on it. Following my hunch , I order two of my guys to get it open. In the back of the plane I find a pile of plane meals, neatly covered in cellophane. Somewhere in this country, the conveniences of living are kept alive it seems.

Later that night the suitcase is finally opened. It contains a series of jelly-looking blocks in a transparent wrapping. The items next to it are roundish and have wires coming from them. I'm no engineer, but it does not take long before I figure out these things are explosives. Considering the risks taken to carry that stuff to its unknown destination ( the man we found is not aware of the significance of the flight it seems, but I have a feeling he's not telling everything...), they are probably not just explosives either. I can't help letting a grin come upon my face.
But now, Yana is tugging at my arm. She wants us to get going. She's right of course. I look at her and marvel at my good luck, in the midst of this insanity. Hell, I haven't spent the day watching the Kink , without getting a few ideas of my own.... I follow her outside the wreckage.

Chapter 9

The scream is hardly leaving her lips that the enormous mass sets down on her running form. She disappears under the massive foot, as easily as a speck of dirt. Around the base of the foot, a cloud of dust explodes and settles down again. The huge leg far above continues its tremendous motion, carrying the vast expanse of the giantess’ body. Thighs that could break through a building show the rosy skin of young woman, the muscles lightly bulging under the movement. An ass that could flatten a parking lot travel far above, displacing air and sending a flock of pigeons into a wild swirl. Even further up, the long black mass of her long black hair is whooshing heavily, like a maddening curtain. The heavy breasts hardly balance at all, kept in place by their own tremendous weight.
The woman did not even notice the life she just extinguished in a casual step.

I know she’s very pretty (aren’t they all?) because I’ve seen her coming for a few miles already. Her slender body is well tanned by the hard sun, and shows no blemishes whatsoever. She entered town in a leisurely stroll, flattening innumerable cars and even buses with total indifference. Each of her steps sends a tremor that rumbles in my stomach.  She walks between two high buildings, made dull by their broken window panes. She leans casually against one of them, around the twentieth floor, and lifts her foot to dislodge some piece of junk stuck between two toes. I cannot even see the red spot the running girl must have left under the darkened sole. I know it’s there, a whole existence blotted out and smeared under the wrinkled skin, a mere thing among other things. No traces of her, totally erased from  this world. The power it takes to reduce a human being to the totally inconsequential measure of a dirt speck is just maddening. This enemy we face is so overwhelming as to nearly convince you your life is indeed absolutely ridiculous.

Her hand has gone through half of the building, in her effort to sustain her balance. Thousands of shards of glass fall in a crashing din around her poised ankle, as she considers the under-sole of her lifted foot. I see the building sway madly on its foundations, the floor above crying out to collapse further now. When the hand leaves the gutted floors, there is a second or two when the collapse seems imminent. It stays that way. The young woman has resumed her walking; her thigh is brushing against the windows high above sending more debris flying in the air.

A passing car is coming to a screeching halt in a nearby street. Guess the onboard GPS is not calibrated to detect this type of obstacle.  The crowd ahead of the giantess is running in absolute panic. The car is trying to turn into the crowd and is inevitably sending a few bodies flying. Any other day, the guy would have been lynched for this reckless behaviour. The giantess has seen it and is lowering a immense body to grab it. Her fingers are long and feminine with nicely manicured nails. I see the man in the car desperately trying to get out of the vehicle, fumbling with his safety belt. On his windshield, the blood of the last person he crashed in is leaving tiny rivulets. Before he makes it out , the large fingers set themselves around the metallic habitat, pressing the doors in. The car is lifted in the air with its tiny occupant. I walk along walls, coming closer to the scene. I can’t get enough of the tremendous sight of this gigantic feminine body blocking out the sky far above us. It’s fascinating to the extreme, even in the midst of all the dangers.

The car is lifted high in the air, till its windshield faces the immense brown eyes of the giantess. She peers into it for a while, a glum smile on her lips, before starting to shake it to get the man out. I can’t see much, but I can well imagine, the guy inside, tumbling through the habitat, his body thrown over the seats, against the windows, bruising and screaming. After a few tries, the girl is disappointed. The man just won’t come out. She pouts. And I see a cloud of anger coming over her eyes. The fingers start pressing on the car as she closes her hand. Screeching noises come out on the now clenching fist, as she reduces the car and the man inside to a bloody wreck. A second later, the metallic remains, fall from the sky and crash onto the street, rolling against the nearest wall with a loud bang. The girl is turning her attention back to the running crowd below her. One step and five people at least just vanish  under the foot that squeezes even a groan from the tarmac.

Why don’t they all try and escape in the buildings? I think to myself. I suppose clear thinking is not the main attribute of a frenzied mob. More people disappear under the next step. As I follow her, stumbling in the wreckage left behind, among the dead bodies and broken cars,  I get the ample vision of her back, muscular and lean, her vertebra slightly showing towards the place they reach the hollow of her waist. The huge ass comes down toward me and the street as she once again leans forward. Each cheek is a monument of flesh, smooth, and round and unstoppable. I see her womanhood between them, a cleft large enough to swallow a Buick. She’s well shaven down there, definitely an enticing sight. She has found more accessible targets in the running crowd, and her long fingers pick up random fugitives, gathering them in her left hand. When she has five of them in her half opened palm, she straightens up and leans again against a low building, her ass crushing the roof, surrounded by a sudden dust cloud. The building also resists (they do build well in this part of the country, it seems). I watch her face, as she seems to gauge her surroundings, while sucking on a squirming form, absent-mindedly. In her hand, shrieks keep erupting from the next snacks.

The girl is distracted by the landscape, and it’s a good thing, as I try to blend into the wall near me, as her gaze passes back through the street behind her. The man in her mouth is no longer visible, unless you consider this slight bulge on her cheek as the presence of a man. When this bulge travels down the long well-defined throat, it probably still is man, but once it disappears beyond the shoulder blades, whatever is left of him is just a struggling piece of food in the monstrous stomach. This man did not expect this I’m sure, when he awoke today, took his breakfast, read the latest news. To suddenly end your life in the warm, dark inside of young woman’s belly, a mere thing to digest, isn’t exactly something even the paranoid media prepare you for.

For a second I shudder, as it seems she’s looking down straight at me, lying there at her feet in the recess of a broken wall. But the split second of fear is gone, when she lazily turn her attention to the horizon, while depositing the screaming form of a woman on her out-stretched tongue. She starts chewing this one, as she comes forward again and resumes her strolling. I have a feeling I know where she’s going and I angle my course through adjacent streets to try and cut her path near the beach. Of course, she’s going at the speed of a train compared to my awkward run. But she also takes a lot of pauses to gather munchies. I don’t even look for her shoulders over the near buildings; I can just follow the screams of the people, and the crashing sound of her feet.

By the time I get to the beach, beyond the ugly tall; buildings that have long disfigured the scenery, she’s already well in the water. I see her back moving away from me, through the massive gash she has created in the range of buildings. Floors are opened to the winds, showing the innards of the hotel, the rooms hanging roofless, wall-less, the furniture hanging from the splintered beams. I have to walk around the base of the destroyed seaside accommodation to get to the front boulevard. Around me people are screaming, crying and generally speaking, panicking, all going away from the path the woman has traced through the sea-side resort. I, like a lunatic, a mad man, a suicidal maniac, keep going against the flow. I don’t care what could happen really, I’ve seen this before, I’m willing to live through this, not a screaming victim, but a participant of these insane times. I guess there’s something wrong with me.

This is the second week after the Awakening. A lot of them have started their strange lives among us. Many cities have already crumpled under their hunger. Yet here the phenomenon is still recent. This particular girl has been on the move for two days I hear, leaving behind her many preserved cities, as if she was not interested in the slightest in the general mayhem that is slowly erupting all around the planet. I happened to go through this one, as I stupidly decided it was time to make sure my stuff and money were ok in a nearby city. Like everyone else, I’m new to this mess, still enamoured in a way to the giant killers, still in awe of their beauty. But I am  already well aware of the game. It’s going to us or them. They do not seem to take prisoners. All attempts at communication have failed. I have seen armies being wiped out in minutes by their gigantesque feet. I have seen the shells explode on their skins, the flattened carcasses of the tanks. Short of an atomic burst, about everything has been tried today to stop at least one of them. When the bombs will really go off, I do not intend to be there to watch it. But yes, I have been taken unawares in this city, and now I’m following her, like a moth on a light. What is wrong with me indeed?

I am on the boulevard that separates the beach from the seaside resort. The beach is already a mess, the sand awash with the waves her feet have created in the ocean. I watch her, as she walks away towards to deep. She’s hundreds of yards away, yet the ocean waves break apart just on the upper part of her calves. Behind her, the sea is choppy, the surface white from the sloshing of her passage, like in the wake of some tanker. I walk down to the beach. The large depression in front of me is a picture perfect footprint. I walk into it, taking in the sheer size of the hole she has created under her massive weight. I feel so incredibly negated, diminished, as I stand in the middle of her foot print. A group of onlookers are walking slowly around it, too, new-comers to this sight, and apparently just as stupid as me.  I hear the roar and I scramble out of the hole, just in time to let the wave wash around my legs, filling in a small cataract the deep foot print. Every move she makes out at large is resonating here a minute later. The water is warm enough, and I let the sloshing happen around my thighs. I turn my gaze again towards the sea.

Far away the naked girl is wallowing in the water. She’s in nearly down to her breasts.  I know another wave is going to hit us pretty bad in a minute and I leave the beach to the high parapet of the scenic boulevard. Most people do the same. Out in the ocean, the girl has found a toy to amuse herself, and I watch the little sailing boat cruise desperately in front of the large breasts, its sail floppy in the sudden absence of wind. The young woman is looking down at the tiny passengers we can imagine easily enough on the raft, faced as they are with the sudden tanned cliff in front of them. I remember my binoculars and take them out. They are three people on the boat. I see them struggling against ropes, trying to orient their vessel away from the playful girl in the water. She just pushed a hand under the water behind them, creating a sudden wave that rushes towards the boat, lifts it a good fifteen feet. The boat is bobbing up and down in front of her naked chest, like a rubber duck in a bath tube. The long waves of hair reach down to the water and probably surround the little boat, as the girl bends down and start blowing on the sail. I can well see the three sailors (two women and a guy) hanging to their ropes and mast, caught under the warm gust of breath. Their boat plows its way in the agitated waters. Well, at least, the blowing is taking them away from the massive wrecking balls of the huge breasts. (On the beach, more waves are reaching us, crashing on the cement wall that contains the yellow sand, before noisily receding in the perturbed ocean)

The young woman is now fully lying in the water. It actually looks like she’s floating. The water is pretty deep out there (the bay was created, I hear, by a meteoric crash a very long time ago), and the laws of physics apply, even to an impossibly large giantess. Her head is now level with the surface, and I can well see the vast expanse of her hair floating around her. Hundreds of feet behind, the surface of the ocean is broken by the twin domes of her backside, and the powerful trashing of her legs. The girl’s eyes are intent on the boat, and a toothy smile is coming closer to the tiny vessel. We cannot hear anything from where I stand, but the crowd around me is shouting useless warnings to the lost crew.
From the bridge of the sailing boat, the face of the girl is now a threatening-looking wall , and even though the sail is now catching the wind again, it has no visible effect on the unfair chase. The girl lets out a brief giggle when the skiff touches her chin. The chase keeps going, as the young woman blows , and blows, driving the boat back towards us. When the boat tries an escape right or left, it receives a powerful “nudge” from the large hands that push the water beneath, and is oriented back to the “right” path.

Eventually, the boat is entering the shallows and the naked girl behind is no longer able to swim. Screams from the passengers are now audible. They are so close to beach, they can probably even see me and my binoculars, yet they surely know they will never reach us. When the giantess rises again from the ocean, revealing again those impossibly long legs and beautiful body of hers, she takes the boat with her in her hands. I can see the keel of the boat firmly supported in the embrace of the long fingers, gallons of water falling back into the ocean, as the vessel gains in altitude.  One of the passengers (a blond girl, in a flashy bikini) has jumped overboard. A bit late though, as her fall is pretty high, along the tanned thighs of her tormentor. I can hear the splash as she hits the surface. The giant girl has seen her too, and a second later her hand is scooping the ocean and bringing its content to her opening mouth. The bikini woman is drunk along with gallons of salted water.

The vast naked body is again covering the beach in its shadow, as the girl sits now cross legged in the shallows, her prize in her hands, just below her breasts. We hear the mast breaking like a twig as she discards it over her shoulder. On board the doomed vessel, the remaining passengers run to and fro, apparently unable to take the decision to abandon ship. The giant fingers are running along the boat, toppling the little human forms on the bridge. After a few giggles of fun and excitement, the fingers select a victim. The man is hoisted between thumb and forefinger high in the air, and dropped unceremoniously down the opened mouth of the hungry girl. As she closed her eyes, her throat hardly acknowledges his passing through to her inner self.  That seems enough reason for the last girl on board to search for an exit, and we all witness her dive between the giantess thighs.  The giant woman seems surprised, looks at her now empty catch and with a shrug casts the entire vessel over her shoulder, already looking for the fugitive in the water. (A second later we hear the crash of the boat on the waters far away). The booming laughter tells us the sailor girl has survived the dive and is swimming just under the cliff of flesh of the giantess’ abdomen. This latter looks down for a second and applies the palm of her hand on the water between her thighs. She stays in that position for a good minute. What she’s doing is pretty obvious to all…..

I think we all realize at that time how pretty close the whole show has moved to the beach. A general dispersal is taking effect in the crowd that had gathered to look in awe at the naked girl and her oceanic sunbathing. I certainly no longer need the binoculars, mesmerized as I am by the lazy giantess in the bay. I no longer need them again when I feel the girl’s gaze pass over us, come back and somehow focus on me.
I feel a sudden thud in my heart. I am looking at the woman in the ocean, along with a hundred people at least, yet I feel her eyes are just singling me out of the crowd. I  watch in shock as the beautiful lips (that just harboured a living trashing human being a minute ago) seem to address me a personal smile that sends my blood running for cover in my ankles. I stagger back, look at the smiling face again. Hell, this is stupid, she’s just teasing the crowd that had the audacity to come and watch her naval antics. She cannot see me. As I start walking backwards towards the safety of the buildings, I am still petrified and fascinated by the gaze that seem to follow me. A second later that gaze is coming from a few hundreds feet above, as the naked girl has come to her feet and walks again towards the shore, huge waves rushing from her calves. I decide to ignore my seemingly powerful success with blond naked swimmers, and start running back towards the town. I curse myself for this stupid stunt of me, following the girl here) Screams are again heating up the already chaotic landscape in the sea-side district. A long shadow is already over-taking the group I’m running with, sending many of my fellow-snacks to glance back in terror at the coming monster. These confused faces, these screams, this is something I’m familiar with already.

I hear the powerful splashes in the ocean, try and angle my run away from the crowd I was following. (never follow crowds, they are like biscuit promotions in a super market) I decide to follow the boulevard instead, giving up the flight to town where she’s bound to be going again now, after her bath. My lungs are burning, as I sprint along the beach .There are plenty of people she can go for, plenty of places she can walk to. I’d have to be real unlucky to happen to be in her way. I jump over a fence. Look back. This is not my lucky day. Far above, the blue eyes are also definitely looking in my direction. This cannot be. Instead of going toward the running people and their snack-filled buildings where the fun is, the naked girl is walking in my direction, nearly copying my flight along the beach.

I’m at a loss for decisions, no one is going this direction with me. That’s how I’ve avoided trouble so far (stalking the giantesses is also a sick specialty of mine, one that has curiously spared me the trouble of running like a rabbit under fire). I feel a sickening panic enter my already busy mind. Okey. Okey. Where to? The splashing noises are getting real close. I glance back, no longer see the girl. Only huge feet coming forward like out of control trucks , bent on squashing me. The girl is somewhere up there, too high for me to check it out. I suddenly turn left toward the beach again. Jump the parapet again, land in the wet sand. Against the wall, I have to keep against the wall. I throw myself against the base of the stonewall, and frenetically start burying myself into the sand. The huge girl is reaching the beach; I feel the tremor of the massive feet hitting the sand. High above the long thighs are moving in an unstoppable motion in my direction. Streams of water are running down from the wet bush of the girl, her abdomen is squarely facing me, I swear the vast face high above is still looking at me. I throw sand all over me, cowering at the base of the wall. The sand is wet and difficult to gather.  The feet are coming, huge, the toes pointing at me, their threatening soles flying now over the sand before crashing into the beach, creating vast and wet footprints . I watch in terror when the last step brings enormous toes right on top of me. They land in the sand less than ten feet from my lying body. I have stopped breathing, as I watch the impossibly long pillar that dominates me, the mountain of flesh that rests upon  that pillar, and I die inside when I see , far far above the blue eyes that are looking at me.

I nearly gag when the gigantic edifice of flesh seem to collapse upon me, the huge breasts falling in my direction, the vast curtain of black hair dropping towards the ground.  The blue eyes are locked on me, above this horrifying smile. I jump to my feet and start running between the massive feet. Each heel is high above me, as the giantess is crouching down, planting her toes deep in the ground. I have lost the sky, everything above is a complex landscape of skin folds, bulges, hairs, tits. I run deep in the shadow, toward the sea, my ears full of an enormous laughter. I am getting drenched from the sea water raining upon me. I am passing right under the enormous crotch of the young woman, smelling her womanhood, her round buttocks big as houses and hovering a few meters above my head. I can’t believe she has come for me. A vast motion takes place, and I fear she’s just about to sit on me. I feel the air displacement coming from the sudden rise of the large body, from the quickly moving feet that crashes right and left of me. I feel the sun on my face for a second, before the shadow returns. The next moment, two car-size objects run into me on both sides, squeezing the living breath out my lungs, breaking a rib or two, crushing my pelvis, in their hot embrace.the ground disappear under my running feet. I see the ocean fall below me, the waves becoming smaller and smaller. The beach turns in a second in a far away place, the horizon is vast, and getting vaster as I gain the sudden  altitude.

The next second my gaze plunge into the depths of two incredibly large blue orbs, draped in wet and long sword-like eyelashes.  Just in front of me, the full lips are curved into a satisfied smile. I feel the hot breath upon my face, exhaled from the twin caves of her nostrils (I could nearly stand in one). A mole on the left side of her nose is marring the face I thought was so perfect a few moments ago. The hum of pleasure that is thundering in the throat below my feet makes my gut shake. I beat stupidly my tiny little fists against the fingers that hold me. I wish I could say  that I see my life passing in front of my eyes, but my life is just too small a thing compared to the sheer existence of the girl that is eying me, and it doesn’t bother showing up.

“It’s time you and I get to really meet, don’t you think?” comes the incredibly powerful voice.
She slowly lowers me down the full length of her body. I see her throat pass by, her breasts, the plain of her abdomen,  and am left in no doubt whatsoever as to what my fate will be  when I watch the first dark hairs of her bush pass an inch from my face. The place I go is lost in the darkness between her thighs. The ceiling above me is wet, glistening and rosy. The upward motion is driving me straight to flagrant rosy folds that seem to open up to reveal a darker still fleshy cave where my head…. I guess I might as well scream a bit.

“Hush, hush… it’s over. It’s over….You’re here.” Yana is passing her hand on my brow, her face is floating a few inches from mine. She looks worried and asleep at the same time. Outside the night is still dark and I can hear the distant splashes of the ocean waves. I look around me, trying to get my bearing. The cave we sleep in is alive with the breathing of our companions.
I remember that city well, I remember that boat well too. I guess the memory was just waiting for the right time to come and play with my dreams.
“Did I scream?” I ask Yana, who has placed her head on my chest.
“No, you didn’t.” She whispers. “Were you screaming in your dream?”
“…..No, No I wasn’t. Go back to sleep, Yana, we have a long day in front of us.”
Travelling from far away, the tremors of a wandering giantess are just barely felt, through our bed of sand.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.