Chris awoke from a very deep sleep to an earthquake.
He would've blinked his eyes in surprise if he'd had eyes to blink, but he was still wholly constructed of cotton, his spirit intertwined with one of the more functional pairs of panties that Sandra had packed for her trip. She was towering over the drawer, naked except for a Tanzanite pendant around her breasts. She'd obviously just stepped out of the shower--she was still damp--and she was drop-dead gorgeous.
She reached out and grabbed him, and unceremoniously dropped him almost to the floor, before pulling him up along smooth, sculpted legs, and finally securing him around her firm, toned behind and her most precious of body parts.
Not a bad way to wake up.
Chris couldn't get a good view upward, but he was more than satisfied with his presence here. Every part of him could experience every sense, so he could simultaneously gaze at her vagina and feel the delightful way her ass moved. His view of the outside world was suddenly and unceremoniously obscured by a purple sun dress. Then, Sandra sat down to put on her shoes and all he could see was thighs. He felt her weight pressing down on him, softly and tenderly.
He was going to have to figure out how to meet her. But not yet, not yet.
* * *
It was hot in Key West.
Sandra was sweating in spite of herself. Not that she was alone. Probably anyone out and about that day was. Chris was well aware of this, as his host body was filling slowly with her perspiration.
It was about time to vamoose, no matter how much fun it had been.
But where to? He wanted to meet Sandra, but he had to admit, he wasn't sure how. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure his plan from last night was fatally flawed. What if Sandra saw him standing six inches tall and was frightened? Or convinced he was a pervert? Or worse? Who could say how a person would deal with something like that?
No, he needed a better plan. But he had no idea what that plan would be.
Still, as he drank in Sandra's ass sweat, he decided that it was time to go somewhere, do something. He needed a change of scenery.
"Form Change," he thought. Hmmm...but where? Then, an odd thought. Yes...that might be interesting.
* * *
He was stretched out, long and thin, plugged into a terminus at what felt like his feet. It was twilight here, the sky obstructed by what appeared to be wicker latticework and myriad vines.
He was one of Sandra's hairs.
He tried to get a sense of where on her head he was. Somewhere near the top, falling behind her left ear. He could see a sparkly tanzanite earring hanging down not far from him. Below him, he saw her bare shoulder, and watched as her skin dove deliciously down the front of her sun dress, her skin glistening with perspiration.
There. This was a bit better, and he could think now without being drowned.
He had to think of a way to meet Sandra, to get her to like him instantly. He had to figure out what the best way to do that was. Probably, he thought, it would be full-sized. But even then--how? What could he say? How could he win this beauty in the twenty hours left in the cruise--when they'd never met before?
Hey, is the wicker latticework of her hat moving upward?
Hey, why was he moving upward?
The hat was removed quickly, and Sandra ran her left hand quickly through her hair. Of course, everyone has a few hairs that are about to go. Occasionally, the mere act of brushing one's hair, or running a hand through it, will cause it to dislodge. You don't notice it. Unless you're the hair.
Chris was ripped out of Sandra's scalp and went flying. The wind caught him and whipped him the length of the tour bus, finally impacting on the vacant last seat.
"FUCK!" Chris screamed silently. Well, it had been interesting, but this was definitely not what he was interested in. He'd just have to rest, until....
Just as he was completing that thought, two girls on Spring Break entered the bus, and without even a how-do-you-do, sat down right on top of Chris. He was pinned beneath the right ass-cheek of a pretty young brunette. The end of him snaked out between her thighs, and he had a good view of her nubile legs.
Not what he was planning on. But an okay respite while he thought.
* * *
Time drug.
Chris would have frowned to himself, if a strand of hair had a face. Oh, he didn't mind his current position, but the more he tried to think of the perfect way to approach Sandra, the more he was convinced no perfect way existed. He'd watched her casually shut down the hucksters who had propositioned her on the beach. He had never been good at opening lines--and he knew he had but one chance to get this right.
He considered just being with her, a part of her life. He could be her panties, or her bra, or one with her bush...but that seemed awfully unfulfilling. No, he had to get this just right.
And then it hit him. The perfect way to do it.
It was time.
* * *
She was laying out by the pool on the ship, and he was one with her earring.
He would have to time this out well, and hope to God he didn't blow it. He was risking death, but he thought this would be one sure way that she wouldn't miss him, and one sure way she wouldn't blow him off.
Whether she'd actually want to be with him...well, that was up to her. There isn't a perfect way to make the girl of your dreams love you. He just wanted a good shot.
It wasn't too long before Sandra ordered a drink--Pińa Colada, in a pineapple. Perfect. Chris had long since rejoined her, and let the timer run. He was ready to make his move.
"Form and position change. Three inch tall man floating in the Pińa Colada that is being brought to Sandra."
At once he was awash in a slushy pineapple-coconut sea. Well, more accurately, a pool. At his new height, he was relatively safe, he thought, though he'd have to execute this quickly, lest hypothermia kick in. He couldn't see outside the glass; he'd have to shout for her attention.
The glass was handed off--it was a rough transition between the waiter and Sandra. But he knew it was her--he had faith in the bracelet, and what's more, he recognized her voice.
Okay, here goes.
"Help! Help! Somebody, help me!" he cried.
His cries were met with slurping, as Sandra started to sip her drink. Chris felt the undertow immediately, and was shocked as he was pulled under by the suction of his hoped-for rescuer.
He broke the surface, sputtering and gasping. He knew he was supposed to be largely invulnerable, but it had sure seemed close there. "Hey! Whoever you are! Help me!"
The suction started again, and again he was pulled under. This time, the straw was moved, pinning him against the wall. He tried to dig his way free, but he was stuck tight. The walls seemed to be closing in. This couldn't be right, he couldn't fail like this. He tried to free himself, but the world was getting hazy....
* * *
Chris felt warmth, and softness. Like he was lying in a king-sized bed on the beach.
It was a phenomenal feeling. He never knew just how good it felt to have the sun beating down on you. He started to move a little. Everything seemed to be in working order, and it all felt right.
He heard an extremely loud gasp.
Opening his eyes, he saw Sandra staring down at him. He looked around for a minute, and realized she was cradling him in her right hand. "OH, THANK GOD," she half-whispered, half-prayed. "I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GONER FOR SURE."
Chris coughed for a second, and said, "I tried to call, but--"
She smiled down at him. "I THOUGHT I HEARD SOMETHING, BUT I THOUGHT IT WAS MY IMAGINATION. IT WASN'T UNTIL I TOOK THE TOP OFF THE DRINK...."
Chris was starstruck. He was looking at a beautiful woman who had nothing but concern for him. "Well, thank you so much. I mean, if not for you, I might have died."
"I SHOULD HAVE BEEN LOOKING, THOUGH."
"Why would you be looking for a tiny man floating in your drink?"
"I SUGGESTED IT."
Chris turned, and saw another titaness sitting down next to Sandra. "I KIND OF HOPED YOU TWO WOULD RUN INTO EACH OTHER. SEE, SANDY? I TOLD YOU TO KEEP LOOKING."
"Sarah?"
"THAT'S ME."
Chris looked admiringly at the young newlywed. She was wearing a bikini that flattered her--and of course, she was enormous, which was something Chris had taken a liking to.
"SO YOU MUST BE CHRIS," said Sandra, smiling wryly.
"I'm a little confused."
"DON'T BE," Sarah said breezily. "PART OF OUR WORK IS FINDING WAYS FOR PEOPLE WITH SIMILAR...INTERESTS TO MEET. YOU AND SANDRA SEEMED A PERFECT MATCH. OF COURSE, WE DID HAVE TO SIMULATE DAMAGE TO THE BRACELET TO GET YOU TO STAND STILL LONG ENOUGH TO MEET HER."
"You guys were monitoring me?"
"OF COURSE. WE WEREN'T GOING TO LET YOU GET KILLED, OR WORSE. OH, DON'T WORRY, NOBODY WILL SEE EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID WHEN. WELL, EXCEPT FOR THE REPORT WE FILE WITH THE SOCIETY."
"The Society?"
"VERY LONG STORY. BUT CHRIS...WHY ARE YOU WASTING TIME TALKING TO ME?"
Sandra was smiling down, like a patient, kind billboard. I smiled back. "So Sandra," Chris said. "What are those interests that Sarah mentioned?"
* * *
If Chris had one regret, it was that the cruise ended too soon.
Sandra and he most definitely did share interests. They were both fans of Dan Savage, they both liked They Might Be Giants, they thought highly of Thai food.
And they were both macrophiles, though neither had known it at the start of the trip.
The cost for the bracelet was pretty reasonable. $1--and continued reports on successes and failures. GTS Enterprises was headquartered in Saint Paul, not far from Sandra's house. They'd get updates.
Chris was already planning to move. He needed a break from Chicago, and what better reason than the love of a woman? Especially one who was turned on when she found out he'd secretly melded with her panties?
Actually, her exact words were, "You bastard!" Then, about six seconds later, "Would you like to try that again?"
So it was that Chris was on a flight to Minneapolis, hiding beneath the jeans of a woman he was smitten with. From time to time she'd flex her thighs to remind him she knew he was there. Neither of them knew if time would be kind to their newfound love. But they were both interested in where this was going to take them. For Chris and Sandra, the honeymoon was just beginning.
Š MMII D.X. Machina, all rights reserved.
Giantess World
