Fulda walked back to her dorm, trying to keep her focus on the sidewalk ahead of her. She was irate that volleyball practice had lasted so long, especially on a Tuesday. It was already dusk, and she had six chapters left to read and a homework assignment due before Thursday. There was not even time to change out of her uniform before heading out, so she no choice but to walk the quarter mile in her tight, revealing shorts and sweaty shirt, her dark blue sneakers slapping carelessly on the pavement. Fortunately she had little to fear from other people due to her size, but she could never be too careful.
“Hey, um, Fulda, right?” a voice called out to her when she turned a corner. She stopped and looked in its direction, finding nothing. With a quick glance down she spotted the bold party: a short, spindly man who did not quite make it to her shoulders. Relieved that she had nothing to fear from someone like him she stopped to hear him out. “I’ve seen you in my building, would you mind if we walked together?”
“Yeah, sure!” Fulda replied, much more confident than he was. “I could use the company. Doesn’t hurt that you’re a cutie, either.” The tiny compliment seemed to light a fire in the small man, as though it were the first nice thing anyone had ever told him. She was no stranger to hangers-on and adoring fans glomming onto her ankle after watching her play, and she understood why the vast majority of them were men. This had been happening since she started playing, and they were annoying but harmless. Either they went away on their own when she did not reciprocate their advances, or they disappeared.
The trip back went quickly enough, and Fulda did her best to maintain a conversation with the diminutive man out of politeness. She tried not to let his nattering get to her and gave real answers to his questions, but he was very high-strung, a sharp change from his glum, nervous demeanor from when he first accosted her. It was like by merely acknowledging his existence she had breathed new life into him, and he was eager to get as many words out of his mouth before the spark died.
When they arrived at their building he rushed forward, grabbing the door and opening it for her. “Why, thank you!” Fulda said, nodding her head to him while she crouched beneath the frame. When she was through he quickly let go and hurried after her, as though he was scared of getting left behind. They patiently waited for the elevator, him continue to chatter away while Fulda offered an occasional syllable or two to act like she was listening. In a few more seconds she would no longer have to be polite.
Finally the elevator opened and they stepped on, with Fulda stopping low again. She pressed her floor, then turned to her little follower. “What floor?” she asked.
“Oh, I’m getting off with you,” he answered.
Fulda gave him a quizzical look. “It’s an all-girls floor,” she replied, “so seriously, where are you going?”
“Let me rephrase,” he began, clearing his throat. “I’m getting off with you. Get it?”
She looked down at him, aghast. “I think you got the wrong idea, dude,” she said. None of her other ankle-grabbers had been this forward, and she was unsure how to dissuade him. “You’re nice and all, and I appreciate you walking with me, but I’ve got a ton of homework to do. Maybe we can meet for lunch sometime?”
“C’mon, your homework will still be there tomorrow,” he said, taking a step toward her. He wrapped an arm around Fulda’s waist, and she resisted the urge to tear it off. Whatever goodwill his cuteness earned him had run out. “Let’s have some fun tonight, huh?”
The door opened, and Fulda wanted to run screaming, maybe break a couple of his bones on the way out. Instead she looked down at him, and from his hard gaze realized she was not the first woman he’d done this to, nor would she be the last unless she did something. She slid an arm over his shoulder and anchored it at the small of his back, then practically threw him forward when she walked out. “Yeah, I could use a good time,” she said.
When the door to her room had closed behind them the small man leaned against her, pushing Fulda against her bed and resting his head on her breasts while he looked up at her. “I’ve never been with a woman as gigantic as you,” he said.
Perfect setup. “If you think I’m gigantic now,” she said with a smirk, “just wait a sec.” She focused on the small, hopeful man clinging to her, and mentally emphasized how small he was. He rapidly dwindled, his weak grip around her breaking when he became too small to maintain it. In an instant he was below her knees, then little more than a bug beside her shoe that she would have ignored if she did not know he was there.
Fulda looked down at her handiwork with pride. “I think you’ll find all women are gigantic now,” she taunted, bending over and reaching a hand toward him. He tried to run but she easily snatched him up in a fist, then stood back to her full height. “You’re not going to see any of them, though.” She reared her fist back and threw it forward, releasing her joke of an assailant. The tiny man flew out of her hand and splattered against the wall, making a little mess when his body shattered against the cinderblock.
From his point of view, the plan was working perfectly. He was about to bag the tallest woman he had ever seen, and she was going along with it! Slowly he pressed up against her, getting ready to make his next move, when suddenly she shot up another five feet. Astonished and overjoyed he looked up at her, but to his horror she kept growing. His hold on her broke when she became too massive for his arms to wrap around, and she continued her unrestrained growth. It was not until her shoe dwarfed him that he realized he had shrunk, and he was no more than an inch tall at the feet of a gorgeous giantess. Her legs alone were like great, tanned pillars, capped by the tiny spandex shorts at the very top.
She spoke, her voice a low rumble to him now, and from her imposing stance he realized that he fucked up. “Hey, no!” he shouted up while she began bending over. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave, we can get lunch tomorrow!” The titanic redhead continued bending over, her ice blue eyes locked onto him. All confidence left him and he turned around, making a mad dash away from her. A shadow fell over him, and he looked back to see her enormous palm, fingers outstretched over him. The fingers clamped down, and he felt like a truck hit him when the rest of her palm crashed into him.
His world rushed around, and he felt sick while the colossal woman stood back up. She said something else with her terrifying voice and he felt another surge as she drew her fist back. By now he was crying, begging for his life even though his cries would never escape the fingers wrapped around him. Intense g-forces gripped him, and the fingers unfurled to allow him to gaze upon the spartan room once more. His vision lasted less than a second, though, and he flew through the air toward the wall. Before he could even scream he slammed into it and was almost liquefied on contact. Fulda grabbed a tissue and scraped his remains off the paint, then dropped the miniscule corpse in the trash.