Fully refreshed, the five-mile-tall witchy goddess known as Lovely Mari grinned and stretched her broad limbs in the cool morning air. It was going to be a magical day, she could tell already!

She thought about her next outfit. Her enormous fingers plucked at the cornflower gown she'd slept in. She twisted her hips and let the dress bloom out all around in a tremendous bell around her powerful legs.

"Actually," she said aloud, to no one in particular, "I think I quite like this. I don't see any reason to change at all." She shrugged cheerfully and adjusted her bonnet as her keen eyes swept across the horizon. The day was a gigantic playground to her, with no particular agenda but to amuse herself. Where would she find the greatest entertainment?

At five miles high, everything around her appeared more or less the same: just broad fields of dull green, gray, and brown. In some areas, low clouds hovered over the land, and those were attractive, but there wasn't much to do with them.

Yet something was tugging at her attention. It was very slight, and it wasn't always there... But when Lovely Mari closed her eyes and slowed her breathing down, when she paid special attention to everything her body was telling her... there it was again.

But what was it?

This would take a lot of work, because she was so massive today. At five miles tall, her cute feet could cover an entire neighborhood. The tiny people she called bugs were impossible to see, even with her incredible vision. When she sensed them at all, it was through her powerful magic: she could feel the presence of life kind of like the heat from a candle flame, not obvious but occasionally noticeable. What on earth could this be...

She looked down. All she could see were her enormous boobs. They stood out at a tremendous distance, even from her perspective. She laughed and they bounced and swung back and forth, and she admired them. It wasn't a stretch to say she was in love with her own body, and who could blame her?

But she did have business to attend to. Lovely Mari stretched her left arm across to grasp the outer edge of her right boob, and she tugged them to the side as far as was comfortable. Finally, she was able to stretch her gaze down her side, over her curvy hip, down her powerful thigh, all the way down past her fine calf to where her bare foot peeked out from beneath her nightgown.

On the ground, not far from her darling row of toes, there was a series of tiny lights flashing. They seemed to be blinking at random, here and there, just tiny little pops of light even smaller than a bush full of fireflies. Smirking, Lovely Mari tilted her pretty head, some locks of blonde hair sliding over her shoulder, and wondered what the hell all that was about.

There was some warmth and the slightest tingling around her feet. It was familiar... not like when she sat on her leg wrong and cut off the blood and her foot fell asleep. That was insanely ticklish! She cried and laughed and cried until the blood returned. But this was not like that. It was almost as though someone were gently tapping at her skin with warm droplets of water... but those lights.

Down on the ground, Col. Kleinbaelle stomped over to the Commo tent and collared the PFC running the radios. Hurling the late-teen flunky from his collapsible chair, the colonel took over the handset. "All stations! All stations this net! This is Papa-Niner-Fife! Report for network status, ovah!"

One by one, each battalion's Commo chief reported that they were online and listening. Satisfied, the colonel broke with telecommunicative protocol and swore a blue streak for two solid minutes. He wanted more tanks to the front, he wanted more howitzer support, and what the hell, the whole regiment of light infantry had better be bayonetting this overgrown, goddamned sack of estrogen in a rotation of two-hour shifts. And where in the great and holy hell was air support, ovah?

In fact, all the Air National Guard from this state and two neighboring states were already closing in: "ETA 40 seconds," reported the Nevada commander, and the others weren't far behind. They were meant to hold off the gigantic young woman until the larger Naval and Air Force fleets could swoop in with the big guns. Some debate in the background was torn between whether they should strafe away at her tremendous ankles and saw her down like a tree, or race up and down the backs of her legs in hopes of either compromising her support tendons or simply draining her dry. So far, nothing they attempted seemed to be making a lick of difference, so it was up to the bombers to unload the most devastating payload Western military had on hand.

Five miles above their heads, the gentle and beautiful Mari still mused about those scintillating lights, and it was another five minutes before she realized she was under attack.

"Ooh, the military!" she squealed. "I wonder which ones have shown up for the party?"

Not far off the ground, three wings of Air National Guard rocked and rolled in their jets, the stable air they relied on for cruising having been abruptly shattered and rippled with the delighted cooing of a five-mile-tall woman's offhanded comment. Only a few dropped from the sky, and only one of them fell into friendly formation, so all in all it wasn't a terrible disaster. The news would make some hay of it, but they were always itching for a shot at unchecked military expenditures under the current presidential administration.

As the local air defense recovered and pulled back, the shadows of four Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirits passed over them and climbed. They had raced over from Missouri under cover of night, as soon as reports came of three missing Minuteman III missiles, soon reported as detonated. The the Air National Guard pilots peered up through their cockpits to see what the Spirits were hauling, and when they saw, they leveled out and put as much distance between them and the garganguan young woman as they could. The Spirits silently, undetectedly began their long spiral up the woman's nightgown, rounding her thighs and preparing to give her hands wide berth.

Four miles above the Spirits' heads, Lovely Mari gazed at the lights a bit longer. They were pretty but they were too small to be very interesting. She had been hoping for a full-scale military assault, but at five miles high, she felt she was missing the action. She had considered shrinking herself down to a more manageable size for them... but no. Lovely Mari was taking a "me" day, and that meant five miles tall, darn it. If the stupid joint military forces wanted to have it out with her, they had to learn to step up their game.

Three miles down, the four B-2 Spirits had successfully navigated past Mari's left hand and were preparing to climb up the backs of her thighs to "her gluteal region", as they reported back to Col. Kleinbaelle.

"What in Sam Hill is that supposed to mean, Major?" he demanded.

The pilot cleared his throat and clarified: "We are in ascent to engage with her bottom, sir."

"Well, whyn'cha just say you're approaching her ass?" He slammed down the handset and kicked the chair away. The PFC was about to clarify this point of strict radio-telephonological procedure but saw that the career officer was turning a compelling shade of scarlet. He interpreted this as a sign to check the status of toilet paper in the latrines and scrambled away.

Two-and-a-half miles up, Lovely Mari was weighing her options. She could go forward... or she could back up... or she could step sideways. She could turn and walk forward, which was the same as stepping sideways, technically, but you were looking in a different direction for it when you went. It was a good direction to look in, because you would be looking ahead while walking ahead, but... A smile crept across her face as she thought about the mystery and adventure that came with stepping somewhere and not looking where you were going.

This required a lot of thought, and that required standing in place for a long time, and slowly her massive muscles began to transmit to the complex brain beneath her cornflower bonnet that they were starting to ache with disuse. In unconscious response, Mari placed her hands in the small of her back, arched her shoulders backward and thrust her hips forward.

"Nnnyyyaaauuugh," she said, yawning, as she reveled in the tension of her springy, powerful muscles.

"We are not clear, I say again, we are not clear for this circuit," said the major, again. He was actually the second major in the formation, and one of two majors in his bomber.

"That is a negative, Bravo," said the first in formation. "Bogey has advanced her buttocks to sufficient distance to clip two minutes off our ETA. We will take advantage of this change immediately. All units, do you copy?"

The four majors in the third and fourth bombers copied immediately. The second pilot still had his reservations but, after consulting with his copilot, complied nonetheless. It turned out, of course, that he'd had the better judgment, because just as the first two planes had surpassed Lovely Mari's deep and plunging butt crack (hidden beneath the drapery of her nightgown), she had completed her stretches and was straightening back up. When her tremendous bottom was no longer where it had been, the leader of the formation had hoped to fly his planes through the vacated space, but now her butt was returning.

"Scramble, Charlie and Delta! Pull out! Bogey is reengaging!" The first major was deeply embarrassed to have made yet another tactical error in formation with the second major, and this would likely cost him his position. Fully knowing this, the second major refrained from saying "I told you so" and leveled out to avoid Mari's enticing right hip. Even under the nightgown, she still revealed plenty of delicious curves that, in any other situation... well, you know.

The bomber labeled Charlie did the same, but with much narrower clearance. The fourth bomber, Delta, was not so lucky: Mari's tremendous buttocks caught up with him, and the fabric of her nightgown gave against the B-2 Spirit's mass, and the fourth major and his copilot found themselves buried deep between two enormous yet pert buttocks. There was room for a long time, too, because her cheeks were quite round and full, but eventually she drove her hips back and surrounded him where her crack grew narrower. The $44 million bomber was sandwiched too deeply between her buttocks, where it exploded.

It should be noted that the Delta majors never attempted to eject but only turned and stared to watch the young woman's ass advance on them. There are no recorded screams of horror or anything, only one man making a comment (redacted) and the other agreeing emphatically.

Two miles up, however, Lovely Mari's huge crimson eyes fluttered and winced. "What was that?" she wondered aloud. "That itched, whatever it was."

What it was, was the US Massive Ordinance Air Blast, the most powerful nonnuclear bomb. The "mother of all bombs" blew up in Lovely Mari's pretty bottom, and she thought it was an itch.

In response to Col. Kleinbaelle's urgent request for information, Bravo reported (and Alpha Leader ruefully confirmed) that Delta had been caught in the posterior of the bogey and its ordinance deployed prior to engagement, with no noticeable effect. The PFC knew that when the colonel's face and neck were red, he was furious but it would pass soon after a small dictionary of swear words. But when the colonel's eyes bulged, his jowls went purple and his neck started to drain of color, the shit had really hit the fan. He warned all the other admin in the Commo tent, who discreetly excused themselves to double-check the status of toilet paper in the latrines.

"You take this bitch out," shrieked the colonel into the handset. "You take this whore-bitch out if you have to fly into her goddamned eyeballs and deploy in her goddamned brain."

He did not hear the lead major declare radio silence for the final ascent. It was enough that the colonel was allowed to fully vent his spleen, and Alpha, Bravo and Charlie were pretty sure they received the gist of his transmission loud and clear. Besides, they had a new obstacle looming before them: one right breast, roughly the apparent size of Earth's moon.

By this it is meant that Lovely Mari's boobs were near-perfect spheres today. She had swallowed up an awful lot of souls this week, and along with adding three miles to her height, she decided to repurpose and distribute some padding to her butt and boobs. It made her feel powerful, somehow, to see these titanic mammaries jutting out proudly from her chest. The band of satin that trimmed her decolletage was strained nearly to bursting, biting very gently into the creamy swell of her breasts. From this band the rest of her cornflower nightgown draped straight down, like a stationary waterfall in mid-descent, but above it, her boobs bulged deliciously, reflecting the noonday sun gloriously. They made her very happy, her boobs did, from the way they sloped inward in perfect hemispheres, to the powerful nipples that poked prominently from beneath her gown. Mooning over them lovingly, Lovely Mari could not resist giving them a playful little shake, a little shimmy to watch them dance for her pleasure.

She heaved one tremendous shoulder forward, then back as her other shoulder lunged forward, and then they reversed directions, then back again. To mere mortals this was a slow-motion syncopation of massive bodies, but from Mari's perspective, she was shimmying and her planetary breasts were responding in kind.

"Alpha! Alpha, be advised!" barked the third major. "Bogey's mammaries are engaging! I say again, we are-" Then he blew up, because Alpha and Bravo were already clear of her boobs, sailing over the vast landscape of her tender, glowing skin, drifting safely over the bottomless chasm between her tits, but Charlie was spending more energy in reporting the obvious than in evading Lovely Mari's sizeable and hardened nipple. His left wing was sheared away by her aureole, and her nipple proper pounded his nosecone into his fuselage. Same as before, the majors did not elect to eject but only ejaculated prior to impact, blowing their wad like their MOAB.

Now Mari was definitely sure something bit her. It was a gentle and small bite, sure, but it was where it was that troubled her. Something bit her on the nipple, and she blushed. If this was part of the military's doing, she was going to be so mad...

Colonel Kleinbaelle was beside himself. There was no talking to him, and nothing intelligible came out of his flopping, foaming mouth. He simply lay on the floor, kicking his spit-shined boots in the dust and clutching the handset as though he meant to crush it. He realized, transitioning from all the F-words to all the G-words he knew, that Alpha and Bravo were no longer listening.

"We have one shot at this, Bravo," said the first major. "Charlie and Delta are out of commission-"

"May God have mercy on their souls," returned the second major. His copilot grunted, not liking their odds.

"They're in a better place now, surely."

"Personally, I liked where Delta was placed," murmured Bravo copilot.

"That's enough! We have one shot at this!" There was a long pause. "Bravo, what is your recommendation?"

The second major barked laughter into his headset. "Negative, Alpha. This is your ballgame."

"Hey, Leonard, this is no time to-"

"I say again, Alpha: you are the squad leader, the head honcho and the LWMFIC. We full intend to follow you to Hell itself."

"If only outta morbid curiosity," muttered his copilot. The Bravo majors high-fived each other.

The lead pilot sighed heavily. "Very well. Bravo, ascend to bogey's... you know what, fuck this. Leonard, you take this girl's left ear and I'll take her right. We'll deploy in 20, and hopefully the MOABs will destabilize her inner-ear fluid enough to dizzy her and knock her to the ground." He blew a long sigh out of his nostrils. "At which point she's Kleinbaelle's goddamned problem."

After an impressed silence, Bravo only said, "Wilco, Alpha Leader. Out."

The last remaining B-2 Spirits climbed over each of the young goddess's shoulders, cleared the stray locks that fell tantalizingly from her sleeping bonnet, and gave themselves some distance from her cheekbones. "She really got some perty eyes," said Bravo's copilot.

The pilot pursed his lips. "She looks like she's not much older than my own daughter. She just started her sophomore year at MIT." He craned his head back to give his copilot a side-eye. "I really don't want to do this."

"What're the odds we could eject and 'chute right between her titties?"

A little bile rose in Bravo pilot's throat as he confirmed his flight's path, coordinating with Alpha Leader. "Deploy and pull out in fife... four... tree... two..."

The twin B-2 Spirits released their MOABs and pulled up and to the right, Alpha racing behind Lovely Mari's bonnet and Bravo pulling out by her huge, glistening eye.

"Truly lovely," Bravo pilot whispered, as the two bombs arced perfectly and deposited themselves neatly in the young goddess's aural canals.

If Mari had been anyone else, that is, a nonmagical, nonwitchy nongoddess and only a really tall girl, their plan might have worked. As it was, this was Lovely Mari, the capricious and beautiful witch with goddess-like power (or goddess with astounding witch powers, still working that out), and the majority of the concussion was absorbed by an assortment of protective spells she always coated herself in, a couple times a week to keep them fresh.

That's not to say it went unnoticed.

"The fuck was that," Lovely Mari growled. Both of the tremendous explosions, together, bothered her very much. Her ears were still sensitive, and she was listening carefully to all the tiny noises these military bugs were making. Now, if you were concentrating on something very closely, trying to hear something very quiet and maybe important, and then your older brother snuck up behind you and belched very loudly into your ear, how would that make you feel?

However you reacted, you couldn't react like Lovely Mari did. She put her hands together and sang out, "Love-Colored Master Spark".

On cue, a solid shaft of blinding light sprang from her palms and blasted a hole into the earth. This hole was a few miles wide and several dozen miles deep. There was no more dirt or rock there anymore, for several dozen miles. If there was gold ore or dinosaur bones down there, they did not exist anymore. As well, the entire joint military forces that had assembled there, comprising the "pretty little lights" that held Lovely Mari so fascinated, was also gone forever, without a trace. No Colonel Kleinbaelle, no latrines, nothing.

The hole was large enough to impress Mari, who stepped carefully away from it. "Wouldn't want to fall in there," she noted wisely, because she was super smart about these things.

And ultimately she did choose a direction to walk in, even after her choice of directions was limited by this tremendous hole in the planet; some say, because of it.