Bethany couldn't get Circe out of her mind. The woman wasn't at all what she expected. She was used to be overlooked -- not noticed. When she was, it was for all the wrong reasons, like being treated as a toy to sate Brock's lust. The talk Bethany had with Circe was the most human the young, small woman had felt in a long time, even as brief as it was. She felt like Circe had seen something in her that she wanted someone else to see.

And yet she hadn't gone back to see the giant, not yet.

Others had. There was a line of cars down mainstreet every day since Circe's proclamation: people waiting in line to see the woman and turn over everything that they had, and be kept in her care. It seemed such a crazy offer to Bethany. What did the giant woman get out of it? On the one hand, she loved the deal, especially when she thought about living in leisure with her friends, who were few: sipping cocktails and eating bacon-wrapped scallops and listening to Len's dry humor sounded pretty good.

On the other hand, it all sounded too good to be true. Bethany didn't have a lot. If she turned it all over to Circe, she'd have nothing, and no control: she'd just met the woman, and she'd be entirely at her mercy.

And yet, part of her wanted it.

Bethany was daydreaming of Circe's giant, soft hand and stroking thumb when she saw the large, shadowed shape on the other side of the front doors to the QuikBurger; inside she soared as she imagined it might be Circe, then she glowered when she saw who was really coming through. Of course, it must be Brock, given the size of the person. Sure enough, the brute roughly pushed the doors open and forced his way inside, stooping to fit through them and then glaring as he approached the front counter.

"Here he comes," Bethany heard Len mutter behind her.

She turned to give him a strained smile. "I got this. Hopefully he's just hungry."

"The boy's always hungry for buuullshit," Len observed ruefully. "Never fills up."

It took everything Bethany had not to burst out laughing. She could feel Brock's heavy footsteps shaking her legs as he approached, and she turned back to face him. He kept his sunglasses on, but half of his face was bruised, and it was clear he had a vicious black eye.

"Welcome to QuikBurger," Bethany recited as impersonally as she could muster. "Can I take your order?"

"Can it, shortstuff," Brock grumbled. "We got a real problem here."

"I'm sorry," Bethany said, feigning ignorance. "Was there something wrong with your food?"

Bethany jumped at the sound of Brock slamming his fist down on the counter. She'd never seen him so mad, and the way he glared down at her chilled her from the inside out. It was then she saw that there was something off about Brock: he wasn't his usual impeccably done-up self; his hair wasn't as meticulously combed, the lower lids of his eyes were swollen and discolored, his clothes were rumpled, as if he hadn't changed -- in fact, Bethany saw, they were the same clothes he was wearing the day before. She stood there, shaking, waiting for Brock to speak.

"What's this about, man?" Len was suddenly beside her, Bethany realized. "You want to eat? Because that's what people do here, Brock. Or are you just here to cause a ruckus."

Brock -- disheveled, heaving, hulking Brock -- looked between the two, but instead of growing anger seizing his features, it was growing disbelief. "Don't you two see what's going on here? Did you not see that dress-wearing King Kong stomp into town and fuck everything up? Why, there are ruin roads out there, and smashed storefronts -- it's like we had a riot. I heard what she said at that 'party' of hers: all horse-shit."

"She says she's gonna fix the roads, man," Len said, tired.

"That and I'm sure she's got enough money to redo those storefronts a hundred times over. Just like you did here, Brock. Once," Bethany added the last word softly, but Brock still glared hard at her for it.

"That's not the point," Brock said. "She's looking to take over. She's looking to walk into town and make us into a buncha bitches -- worse, slaves, maybe! -- and expects us to just roll over and let it happen. Well, I ain't gonna let it. No, sir. When I improved this place, I did it to bring in more business, and-"

"Yeah," Bethany snorted, "your business. That drive-through is too big for anyone else." The more Bethany listened to Brock's rambling, the less afraid she felt of him. There was something cartoonish about his anger -- and hypocritical.

Brock jabbed his chest with his thumb. "My business has been propping this small town up for years. You should be thanking me for giving you a way to serve me. I'm the most successful man Barlomie's ever seen!"

"Not anymore," Len laughed. "Well, I guess you can still be the most successful man if you want, Brock, but that gal's twice the person you are. In fact, at that party, she was already looking a little bigger."

Brock slammed his fist again, and Bethany and Len both jumped, but they looked at one another and chuckled immediately after. Brock laughed, too, but it was a strained, forced, frustrating sound: "You two sure aren't making this easy. Look, that giant-sized bitch is going to ruin this town. Mark my words. The two of you make think this place is a shithole, but that's your own damn fault for never doing anything with your lives."

Len whistled.

Brock sighed. "Listen. You're with her, or you're with us; the town, I mean. Barlomie. Your home. Are we really going to let some outsider come in here, turn the town upside-down, and claim it as her own? We can't let money turn ourselves against one another."

Bethany looked at Len, taking off her headset, and the little hat she had to wear. The older man gave her a surprised look of sudden realization, and then his face softened and he nodded.

Then Bethany turned back to face Brock. "You really are stupid, Brock. You just don't get it. Our home? Barlomie's never felt like a home to me. And money's already turning us against one another -- it does that all over the damn world. Money's more important to people than people. You use your money to keep the rest of us down, even. You're living in a fantasy world, and it's finally falling apart. The only people who are going to side with you are ass-kissers and idiots; Circe's offering the rest of us a way out."

Bethany raised the counter's flapped and stepped around to the other side, where Brock was, fuming. She looked him in the eye as she walked right on by him, and kept going, toward the doors. "I quit," she called, pushed her way out the doors and was gone.

Brock gazed after her, mouth hanging open, then turned back to Len with a tightening expression. "All right, so tiny's out. Who cares about that? She'd only be pulling the rest of her down. Right now we need big players." Brock glared at Len. "So what'll it be then, fry-flipper? I'm not going to come by with this offer again. Frankly, you're a bit too small to really make a difference anyway, but anyone on our side is another person she doesn't get. So, what'll it be?"

The older, smaller man rested both his hands on the countertop and lowered and shook his head. He looked back up with Brock not with fear, or worry, or anything else; he just looked tired, and like he was amused at how life could still surprise him after all this time. "You sure love to run your mouth, boy." Len chuckled softly. "Order some food or get the hell out, Brock."

###

Bethany walked along the line of cars, which patiently rumbled and moved up every so minutes. No one really cared about the gas they burned: they were giving everything away anyway.

Ahead of her was Circe's looming mansion, and just the thought of the beautiful giant it housed made her blush as much as if she were back in the woman's hand. The long walk to the mansion's front doors made Bethany feel even smaller than she was, like she was a bug crawling across Circe's lawn. She could never imagine a life that let her be as big as Circe, as alluring as it was to imagine. Still, she felt more hope in her than she had in a long, long time, walking toward the mansion with the intent to give herself over to the giant.

A younger woman who Bethany thought she recognized -- vaguely; maybe they went to school together -- waited at the door. She was one of many people who looked to be volunteers, or something: they all wore similar uniforms, and were all about seven feet tall.

"You've gotta wait your turn, honey," the woman called to her. "Go get your car and pack it with all your worthless shit -- we're gonna crush it -- and leave your valuables at home, if you got any. We'll come for those."

"I don't have a car," Bethany said honestly, already feeling worthless to Circe.

The uniformed woman raised an eyebrow. "Well, all right." She motioned off to the side with the pen she was holding. "Walk-ins are over there. You still gotta wait in line."

Bethany looked over at the long, long line and sighed feeling the heat of the day bearing down on her. She turned back to the much taller woman and smiled and nodded. "Thanks," she said meekly.

"Sure thing, hun."

"Wait," a powerful voice called out.

Bethany gasped and saw Circe strolling over; the towering, tan woman wore a smile on her face; her eyes were fixed on Bethany. Circe had a simple outfit on: a loose white blouse and tan faded orange capris; she wore a wide-brimmed, floppy sun hat and a pair of black sunglasses with large lenses; her huge brown feet were bare, Bethany saw, as they came to a stop right before her. An alluring musk caught in Bethany's nostrils; it was fruity, like lotion, with a hint of salt like sweat.

Circe kneeled down and lowered a hand, palm-up, before Bethany: "hop on, doll."

Bethany's breath caught in her throat, but she didn't waste a moment before obeying Circe's command: she scrambled onto the giant's big, soft palm and let herself be lifted up. The ride up toward Circe's chest was as dizzying as it was at the party; it was almost as if Circe was even larger than she had been before.

"Let me show you around," the giant said, her voice amused.

The huge fingers curled around Bethany protectively and then the world started moving beneath her as Circe walked. She could feel the force of the giant's steps from her perch on Circe's palm; the ground was alive, and pulsed as blood pumped through veins unseen below Bethany's form. The comparatively tiny woman felt wrapped up in Circe's warmth and scent once more, and again felt like she was somewhere she never wanted to leave.

Circe strolled through the mansion's large double doors, stepping into a space that was absolutely massive for little Bethany. It seemed to be built for someone even larger than the giant who held her, as if Circe had left quite a bit of room to grow. Bethany looked all around her, marveling at the space, and caught Circe smirking down at her.

"Quite big, isn't it? Too large, even for me. Well, right now." Circe held her hand up and relaxed her fingers so that Bethany could see: the mansion had several tall floors, and was built like a palace, with balconies and terraces and chandeliers and ornate decorations; Bethany felt like she'd stepped into a fancy hotel lobby, or maybe even was transported back in time to the temple of some lost goddess: there were friezes and busts and busts scattered around, depicting lewd scenes, and naked figures. Bethany was in awe.

Then Circe's hand lowered and the giant woman was grinning down at her little guest. "I'm a movie producer. Well, more than that: I wrote, directed, and bankrolled my first film just last summer, and have two more on the way. Maybe you've heard of it, if you like science fiction: it was called The End Of The Universe."

Bethany's eyes widened when she heard the name. "Oh my gosh, I loved that movie. That was you? I'm not just saying that. I watched it three times in the theater."

Circe's grin widened. "Yes, that was me. I'm glad to hear you appreciated it. It's done quite well, as you can see. In fact, I could be bigger, if I wanted. Right now, most of my money is in an account not directly connected to me. I can funnel cash to and from it at will, of course, but for the moment, this is a useful size."

Bethany's head spun, listening to Circe talk about such large sums of money so casually. It seemed obscene, how much money and power the woman had. More and more, she felt like she was in the temple of a goddess: a living deity, not one lost or forgotten.

Circe lowered down, then, and opened her hand once more. Bethany's eyes widened at what she saw: there, being constructed by doll-sized laborers, was a town like Barlomie, but much smaller in scale. It looked like a toy village, even to Bethany. There were even what looked like little citizens walking around.

"This is the new Barlomie. Well, for now, at least. This is where I'm putting people who give me all their worldly possessions. Once I own this town, I'll knock it down and build something better."

Bethany looked up at Circe in surprise. The tanned woman's serene face watched her back. There was a kinship she felt with Circe that she couldn't quite put her finger on; even the woman's face appeared familiar -- the same as with the uniformed woman before, Bethany wondered if Circe and her went to school at some point, but she knew that was a silly thought. The huge changes Circe was making to her reality were scary to consider, but, the more she considered them, she found them exciting. It's like an apocalypse had gripped Barlomie, yet Bethany was going to come out of it better than before. In a way, Circe felt like an answer to her hopes and prayers.

"You can live here, too, if you want, Bethie. Or," Circe started to walk again, moving around the town and heading toward a winding staircase. "You can stay with me."

"With you," Bethany asked.

As soon as she'd spoken the words, she found her world shifting as Circe's hand hovered through the air and tilted. Suddenly Circe's large, round breasts were underneath her, and Bethany was sliding down Circe's large, smooth palm and plummeting through the air, toward the opening of the giant's blouse.

Bethany landed on Circe's bare chest and slid down into the space between the woman's breasts, her body fitting perfectly in the woman's cleavage. Bethany's head stuck out, and she saw the staircase ahead, and felt Circe's breasts rubbing all around her as the giant woman began to saunter up them. Then there was a gentle weight on her head, and pressure, as Circe pushed down on her and forced her deeper between her warm, soft breasts.

Bethany blushed in the hot darkness, completely taken aback by where she found herself. Bethany was no stranger to sex, but she had never been with a woman -- even something as innocent as kissing a friend on the lips. And yet the place where she now found herself was exciting to her. Before she had time to really process it, or feel it building, she found she was incredibly turned on: it wasn't just Circe's breasts; it was her size, and her power, and the way she controlled her.

When Circe's large fingers came for her again, Bethany felt that all-too-familiar regret at being taken from where she was: she was pulled out into the open air and gripped by Circe, who stood at one of the many balconies of her mansion. This one overlooked the actual town of Barlomie, and Bethany looked out over the long line of people and cars leading to Circe's home, and of construction crews already at work tearing down portions of the city. The sight of it was stunning to Bethany, and for a time both of them simply watched the vista in silence.

"You were born and raised in Barlomie," Circe asked.

Bethany looked up at her, her voice shaking. "Yes," she answered, "I've been here all my life." It wasn't fear that gripped her, it was excitement, for Circe, and for the way Barlomie was changing so fast, molded by the whim of this unstoppable giant. "And all my life I've wanted to be somewhere else," she added.

"And how do you feel, watching Barlomie get torn down to the ground?"

"Good," Bethany breathed. "I..." She gulped. "I almost wish it was in flames, instead."

Circe burst out laughing, but it was a happy sound, and Bethany relished. She felt exhilarated that, even as small she as she was, she could affect someone so large.

"I like the way you think, Bethie." Circe turned away from the balcony and sat down in a seat. She pulled a small circular table from the side of her seat and placed it before her, then gently set Bethany down atop it.

Circe settled back in her seat and reclined, crossing one leg over the other. Her bare foot bobbed in the air, as if to a tune only she could hear. Her dark brown eyes gazed evenly at the tiny woman before her. Circe was in fact larger than she was the first time Bethany and her met, the little woman was right: she was now almost fifty feet tall, and the four-foot-tall woman appeared to be something like six inches in height to her.

For Bethany, the view of Circe was a grand one: the circular platform she stood on was only as tall as Circe's knee; the dark-skinned goddess loomed high above her, arms draped casually on the armrests at her sides: she seemed more like a queen on a throne, than a movie director. Everything about Circe seemed in its proper place, and almost too perfect. And then there was her face, and the familiar look of it that Bethany couldn't shake, like her and Circe had met before; part of her felt like she'd known Circe all her life.

Circe's voice startled Bethany: "So, have you made your decision?"

Bethany swallowed, looking up at the giant. She wanted to ask questions, but felt like she should already have the answers; to ask anything seemed like a disservice to Circe, and more than anything she didn't want to displease the giant woman.

Circe leaned forward in her chair, grinning; she rest an elbow on her knee, and cupped her chin with one hand. "Cat got your tongue, doll?"

"I want to give you everything," Bethany said in a rush, breathless. "I want to give you everything you want."

Circe arched a precise eyebrow and her eyes glittered; the corners of her mouth ticked up in a small smirk. "Everything? That I want? Why, I'm rather insatiable, Bethie."

Bethany couldn't contain herself. She did what felt right: she fell to her knees before Circe. The same arousal she felt diving down between Circe's breasts flooded the tiny woman again. It excited her to submit to Circe. Fear welled up in her suddenly -- Circe burst out laughing, and Bethany feared the woman's rejection -- then she saw the hungry, happy way Circe gazed down at her, and the fear went away; there was only the electric crackle of anticipation.

Circe's large body moved; she sank back into her seat, again resting her arms at her sides as if on a throne. The giant swung one of her legs up and Bethany saw the lightly brown sole of Circe's foot approaching her platform; Circe gentle set her foot against it, the edge of it sinking into the plush flesh just beneath her toes. On her knees, the toes were as tall as Bethany, and Circe's familiar musk caught in her nostrils once more.

"Crawl forward, then, pet. Kiss my toes. Worship your goddess, and surrender yourself to me."

Bethany's body moved as if of its own accord; she raced forward on her hands and knees and pressed herself up against the underside of Circe's flesh. She found the briny scent of the giant woman's toes intoxicating; pressing her lips against the silky flesh of Circe's toes was more exciting than any kiss she'd ever experienced. In the distance, between the woman's toes, she could see how Circe grinned down at her, and closed her eyes, as if relishing the experience. It encouraged Bethany, and she found herself lapping at Circe's toes, tasting their salt.

When Circe didn't stop her, Bethany let her body take over: she licked Circe's toes as if she meant to clean every inch, and even stuck her head between them, to lap at the soft, damp flesh were the toes met one another. Bethany felt drunk with arousal, and even heard Circe moan in the distance. "My goddess," Bethany breathed, licking at the salty skin and swallowing Circe's sweat.

The air chilled and it started to rain, but Bethany barely paid any mind to the soft drizzle that fell around her. Bethany felt as if she'd fallen through a crack in reality and found herself in a different dimension; it was as if she was watching someone else get to do everything she wanted to, deep down, but was never able to. Submitting to Circe felt like the most natural thing, and when the huge toes left her, and Circe reached for her and plucked her up, she still felt as if she was swimming in a dreamlike fantasy. Bethany was weightless between Circe's fingertips, and watched the balcony disappear from under her, turning into what must have been Circe's expansive bedroom.

Circe unbuttoned her blouse with her free hand and pulled the garment from her shoulder; then she slid it down her other arm, and the fabric billowed all around Bethany's small form as it was pulled away.

The giant's hand rotated and Bethany fell from her fingertips and onto her waiting palm. Circe sat on the edge of her bed and looked down at the tiny woman's form, holding her before her big round breasts; the chestnut-brown orbs ended in pert nipples as dark as loam.

Looking up at her goddess, Bethany saw a change there: one she didn't expect. For the first time since her arrival in Barlomie, Circe looked vulnerable. Her eyes didn't pierce Bethany, instead, they looked toward her, and then bounced away, as if Circe was seeing things only she could see: searching through her thoughts, Bethany reasoned.

"Circe," Bethany ventured finally. "What's on your mind?" She rubbed at the palm beneath her, making an attempt to be reassuring.

Circe's face softened, and she raised Bethany up so that she was right in front of her face; that face, Bethany thought again, so friendly and familiar. It was as if Bethany and Circe were best friends -- soulmates, even -- in another life.

Circe's voice was impossibly quiet and soft for someone so large:

"Don't you recognize me, Bethiebear?"

Bethiebear. The name tugged at her, from deep in her past. It was like a hand reaching out through time and tapping her shoulder. All at once she was back in high school, on the worst morning of her life, and there was a note taped to her locker telling her that her best friend in the world was gone and wasn't coming back. Bethany studied Circe's brown eyes, which were slick with a sudden wetness. The way Circe started back at her, it was full of want, and worry, and knowing. Bethany's mouth dropped open a little.

"Oh my god. Caleb?"

Circe's eyes widened a little; the giant head nodded.

"Caleb!" Bethany leapt to her feet, standing atop the giant woman's upturned palm.

"I always hated that name," Circe muttered.

"I..." Bethany looked the giant woman over: it was Caleb, she knew it was, and yet she may have never known if Circe hadn't said something. Her body was magificent, with no signs of any surgery.

Circe saw the way Bethany looked at her. "With money, you can do anything." She cupped one of her breasts and rubbed her thumb against the nipple. "My body alone is worth more than all of Barlomie. Really, I have more money than I know what to do with."

Silence settled, then, as Circe and Bethany looked at one another. Rain pattered against the balcony behind Bethany as the storm picked up; in the distance she could hear the sounds of the town: of all the cars, and the construction. The air coming in child her, and the smell of the rain took Circe's sent away from her for just a moment. She felt lost without that scent, and stared up into Circe's eyes. She saw that the giant woman was crying.

"Do you," Circe swallowed, "can you forgive me?"

Bethany felt a weight settle on her; the weight of a decade's worth of rumination, and pain, and hope, and wonder. It crashed down on her all at once, but just as quickly she pushed it all away. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Circe's raised thumb, which straightened a little more. Bethany showered the giant woman's thumb with kisses

"Of course I can," Bethany said in a rush, but even as the words came out of her seemingly unbidden, she knew they were true. "I can't believe you came back for me."

The giant woman lifted her hand and grinned down at Bethany, wiping the tears from her eyes. Bethany continued to cover Circe's thumb with loving pecks.

"Circe, my goddess! Oh, now this is even more like a dream come true!"

"I didn't want to leave you, Bethie. And every day since I did, I always wanted to come back. But on my own terms. I couldn't return to Barlomie the way it was. But we can change it, now, with my money. Together. We can make it anything we want."

Bethany stopped kissing long enough to grin wickedly up at Circe. "Then let's tear it all down."

Circe bit her lip; her fingers curled around Bethany's tiny body and the giant woman reclined atop her bed. She set Bethany down on her bare chest as she unzipped her capri pants and shimmied out of them while lying on her back; Bethany alternated between covering the large breasts around her with kisses and hanging onto one of Circe's pert nipples as her goddess finished disrobing.

"There is one piece of me I haven't changed," Circe said, smiling down at Bethany. "Maybe some day, but I'm still rather fond of it."

Bethany looked down the length of Circe's magnificent body and watched the woman dip her hands into her panties and scoop out the bulge there; Circe pulled her cock free of the silky garments, her member already tall and stiff. Bethany had never seen Circe's cock before -- as close as they were, they never fucked, though Bethany would have liked to -- and she felt herself get wet between the thighs just at the sight of the pillar of flesh taller than she was.

Bethany looked up at Circe's excited face, biting her own lip now. "Oh, goddess; your cock is beautiful -- just like every part of you!"

"Then worship me, pet. Show me just how beautiful I am."

Bethany raced from Circe's bulbous breasts and across her flat stomach, feeling the firm muscle beneath the woman's flesh. Circe's dark pubic hair was trimmed short, and it tickled Bethany's soles as she ran across it. She embraced the big, thick cock as eagerly as she did Circe's thumb, and wrapped her arms around it. Bethany pulled the taut, firm muscle against her and pulled down on the giant's flesh, sliding her foreskin down and revealing the reddened, glistening head; Bethany's pressed her lips against it; she licked at Circe's slit, enjoying the salty, sweet flavor of her precum.

Circe arched atop her bed with a moan. She could feel all the little details of Bethany's feminine form against her cock; she reached down and wrapped her hand around both, and tightened her fist, pressing Bethany against her. Then, slowly, gently, she forced Bethany up and down along her hard shaft. It felt so good to use Bethany to get off; the tiny woman squirmed, and kissed, and licked, and used her little limbs to wrap around Circe's cock as best as she could.

Circe couldn't contain herself any longer. She quickly plucked Bethany up and brought her around before her cock; the little lady looked up at her with such a raw look of lust and pleasure that even just her aroused little face drove Circe over the edge: she came, her hot cum splashing across Bethany's breasts and her face; she held Bethany there as she pumped, holding her close as more white, milky cum came out of her in waves. In poured all down Bethany's body, covering her like a glaze.

Circe's mouth hung open; she breathed hard. She looked down at Bethany and licked the tip of her thumb and then wiped the comparatively smaller woman's face. "Sorry," Circe said, embarrassed. "I didn't mean to come so soon, but trust me, I've been thinking about this moment for a long, long time."

Bethany only grinned. "Well, let's make it more than one moment, then, Goddess Circe."

###

Circe was sitting back, resting on the many pillows piled up at the end of her huge bed. Bethany kneeled on the woman's chest, kissing her breasts. After being wiped off with a tissue, Bethany had gone to work tirelessly pleasing Circe's form, starting at her soles and kissing her way up to where she was now -- stopping at all the right spots.

Circe half wanted to ravage the tiny woman once more, now that she was recovering from her orgasm some twenty minutes earlier -- she had the same thought when Bethany was licking her cockhead clean on her way up her body -- but she was enjoying the feeling of Bethany crawling all over her and worshipping her with her lips and tongue, while she listened to the rain pattering against the glass of the balcony doors and smoked a cigarette.

"Soon, I'll let you go wash up and get dressed. Then you can head downstairs. My servants will get your set up. I'll be able to control your size and all that, but I won't make you tiny like the rest of the people you saw in my little approximation of the town of Barlomie. In fact, you won't live there at all."

Bethany perked up, stopping her worship for a moment so that she could speak with her goddess. "Does that mean I can stay here with you?"

"Yes," Circe said, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. "On the bed, sometimes; I'll get you a cage. There's a small room you can use, too, connected to this one. If you're good, maybe I'll let you keep a bed in there and sleep with a little privacy. Maybe."

"I'd rather be out here with you." Bethany grinned. "It's like this was your plan all along."

Circe winked. "That it was, pet. Besides, you don't want to live in that little toy town anyway. Trust me."

Bethany cocked her head. "Why is that?"

Circe looked coolly at her tiny worshipper; she reached out and stroked at Bethany with her fingers. "Tearing the town of Barlomie down is just the first step. After I have everyone right where I want them, well... I plan to make this place -- and its people -- history."

Hearing this, Bethany's gaze lowered. She found it hard to look into Circe's eyes, because she suddenly felt the need to hide her thoughts. More than anything, she wanted to see Barlomie get torn down. But, at the same time, she thought about Len, and Daniel, and Steven. Bethany didn't have a lot of friends in Barlomie, or even people she considered close in this life, but it felt wrong for them to suffer whatever fate Circe had planned for the town.

"What is it, pet?"

Bethany shook her head, ashamed that her thoughts would run counter to her goddess's.

Circe's large finger moved under Bethany's chin and forced her to look up at her. Bethany didn't see the anger she expected in Circe's visage; instead, the giant woman gave her a knowing look.

"You're the only person I care about here, but I left a long time ago. In all that time, I imagine you've made a few friends, at least. Write me a list. I promise I'll spare anyone you tell me to. Have your friends write lists, too, and then we'll even have their friends name names. This small circle of people, starting with you, will survive the fate that awaits this wretched place."

"Oh, goddess!" Bethany breathed and fell forward onto her hands, kissing between Circe's breasts. "Oh, thank you!"

Circe closed her eyes and blew more smoke into the air. "Of course, pet," she said. "Now crawl up here and give me a kiss. I have some business to attend to tonight. There are some people in this town who need a little more encouragement."

Bethany crawled forward, kissing her way up Circe's neck, then her chin, and finally pressed her face against the woman's huge, plush lips and kissed her there, too.

She giggled in surprise as Circe's hand suddenly scooped her up. Then she moaned with pleasure as she was plunked down on those big, soft lips, and Circe's tongue slipped out between then and lapped at Bethany's sex. Bethany rocked her hips on Circe's lips, and Circe rhythmically licked at her pet until she came, screaming Circe's name between gasping moans.

###

That evening, Circe sat on the balcony, alone, in the cold rain, gazing out across the city. Her construction crews continued to work in the dark and the rain; they were simply tearing structures down, after all, and didn't have to be precise about it, or careful. Less than half the city was lit up. The rest of it -- the darkened lands -- were places where the townsfolk had already turned themselves over to Circe. The people who used to live in those homes and apartments were now the size of bugs to the giant woman, living in a toy city in the foyer of her mansion. With relish she watched as her old high school was knocked down in the distance.

Circe had more money than she ever dreamed she would have. Her sci-fi film was already spawning a universe of books, and toys, and cartoons, and new deals came in every day.

She pulled her phone out and sent a few texts: orders she sent to agents acting on her behalf, as she prepared to deal the final fatal blows to what remained of Barlomie.

Then Circe tapped over to the app she used to control her accounts. For what she wanted to do now, she needed to be just a little bit bigger again.