Decades of tradition and thought made a mockery of in a blink of an eye. That is what Jack was witnessing, though he really couldn’t care about such frivolous things. He sat on the bleachers surrounded by a myriad of generals and scientists. They were all overlooking a ruined field, today's appointed testing ground. He looked down at his clipboard, tapped his pen on the stacks of paperwork. Millions of dollars worth of equipment gone, and the establishment just sat and watched. Scanning over their faces, he could see the stoic facade slip every now and then. A wince there, a subtle frown, a little lean over and a hushed whisper into someone's ear. It was plain to see. The chiefs were not happy in the slightest. 

He turned his attention out to the field. A few battle tanks were littered about the field still. The survivors of the initial engagement, but sadly not long for this world. Not when Emma got her hands on them, or her feet if she so chose. She was taking her merry time and loving every second of it. Many a fine vehicle were flattened beneath her sole, compacted and flattened into the dirt. Others she picked up, crushed in her hand and then tossed the scrap away like trash. Jack thought that was maybe why these older gentlemen were so annoyed or upset. A woman was desecrating the backbone of their entire careers. She was tearing up what they knew about conventional warfare. One could be mistaken in thinking it was not a woman, however. Seeing a giant emerge from an aircraft hangar and then destroy everything one understood about modern equipment was no doubt a hard fact to swallow, especially after so many years of studying and analysis. They were face to face with a new way to wage war.

That was not his concern here. Doctrinal issues were not his realm. He was keeping a tally of the cost and damages. One stamp was flattening a few million in taxpayer dollars. Someone had to keep oversight of that after all. If she really got a taste of it, then no doubt some contract had to be created and then bid on by numerous producers. Jack assumed they would be too eager to feed that titan of a woman’s appetite. Stating that on a tender might look odd. He jotted down a note that the details had to be classified of course. The industrial complex might be happy filling out orders, but learning they might go out of business because of the newest scientific advancements would cause an uproar. Mass-produced super soldiers would come from a lab, not a factory. Another thing that the generals were having to grapple with. 

A final ear-splitting crunch brought him out of his focus. Emma dispatched the last of the tanks and threw the wreckage over her shoulder. One of the commander's eye’s widened in horror. Whatever remained of that tank, it went flying off and disappeared beyond the horizon. A meagre display of strength and an idle afterthought for her, a gut-wrenching notion for everyone else. Having finished with the tests, Emma made her way towards the gathering. The very sight of this woman whose tread shook the earth and left her immense footprints in the soft mud made all but the most steadfast shoot worried glances at each other. She stretched and flexed her muscles, giving the attendees a fine display of her ungodly brawn. From the way the foundations were rocking, Jack assumed she was placing more emphasis on her footfalls, just to really highlight how awesome her earth-shattering gait truly was. The gathering shared whispers of concern. Jack sighed. It was making it harder to write, that was for sure.

She swept her raven black hair as she approached, wiping away sweat from her brow. With just a few great strides, Emma loomed over the nervous crowd. They stared at the fair-skinned titan of a woman. Her emerald green eyes swept across the gathering of the brightest scientific and military minds, a terrible smug grin etched on her face. Jack tutted. Her shadow was making it hard to read his notes. He glanced up to see her striking heart-shaped face, her sharp well-defined features. She was smiling. It looked as though she was smiling at him. He shrugged. 

Probably the dopamine from all the exercise, he thought. Jack returned to his work. 

Emma scoffed and then saluted. Sunlight and sweat, the mixture of the two gave her hulking defined muscle almost a polished sheen to it. Thighs as thick as battleships, bulging biceps greater than any barracks, taut abs outlined by her tight black singlet. That wasn’t helping the men feel comfortable. Jack scanned the bleachers. Flabby fat men in their ostentatious uniforms or skinny physiques wrapped in white lab coats. He scribbled his analysis. A short bullet point about Emma’s effects on morale detailing how men’s insecurities might be worsened when face to face with a woman who surpassed what was thought physically achievable for any human. 

Worst still, she hadn’t earned it. Jack thought that added to her smug grin. Some concoction gifted her such brawn and height. No effort or achievement. All that power in a little needle shot. Judging by her looks, Emma was revelling in it, loving each and every moment she could exhibit her might. Her smile never left her, even as she saluted. After a tense moment and the ruckus caused by her footfall subsided, all the gathered commanders applauded her display. They then congratulated the scientists on their achievements. All the while, the tension was there. It was thick enough one could taste it, thicker than even the pungent musk coming from Emma’s sweat coated body. Fear. The terrible, awful horror of seeing a giant. A weapon of war that defied logic and man’s understanding. The fear was well disguised of course, but still there. These men wouldn’t have reached their station if they were prone to open displays. Cool and calm, trembling on the inside.  

One of the scientists thanked Emma for the display and asked her to return to her abode for a debriefing. She stood to attention, her foot slamming into the field and burying deep. The bleacher rocked from side to side, prompting everyone to balance themselves, holding on for dear life as the foundations swayed and groaned from the stress. 

“Oops,” she cooed, bowing to them, raising a hand over her mouth in feigned shock. Emma was giving the crowd a generous full display of her outrageous bust, “sorry fellas, guess I don’t know my own strength.” 

Everyone except Jack stared at her breasts, entranced by the very view. Her chest looked as if were testing the very fabric of her uniform, pushing and straining against it like they were ready to burst out any second. Jack took note of the possible malfunction waiting to happen, then turned to more important things. He was already estimating costs. Procurement was a messy affair, just as muddy as the field Emma was gleefully stomping around on. The commanders were keen to have more tests most likely. That meant more work for him, not that he minded. Jack looked up at the giant shadowing them. Their eyes met for a moment. He looked her up and down, then wrote something. Emma tittered, saluted a final time and began her march back to the base.

The bleachers continued to bounce as she strode off. It was when he heard the earth-splitting booms of her heavy tread he deigned to look out towards her. A discreet little base. A few barracks her and there. If it wasn't for that impressive hangar requestioned as a makeshift home for a hundred-foot-tall woman, this place would be thoroughly unremarkable. Jack then caught sight of Emma’s broad hips, how her clothing seemingly disappeared between her titanic-toned ass. Further up, the defined traps and lats of her back meant there were almost valleys between them. Every inch of her was packed with unfathomable physical might. Emma glanced over her shoulder. She grinned and picked out her signet from her butt. From then on, Emma exaggerated her walk, swaying her hips as much as she could as though attempting to hypnotise onlookers. Jack made an addendum.

Singlet looks tight around the chest, but also the waist and back, maybe worth scientists reexploring sports bra and spats option?

Emma lounged in the hangar, huffing and sighing. Hands behind her head and staring up at the harsh lamp light. She jogged a leg, each little bounce of hers shook the vehicles stationed in the room with her. Reaching across, Emma grabbed a jeep. She clenched her hand. The flimsy frame was no match for her strength. It cried out a harsh and sharp groan as it crumpled like paper in her grasp. Emma unclenched, clenched again. She could hardly feel it. That is what she wanted. Some resistance, some test. She let the pulverised scrap drop. It crashed onto the floor beside her. Another one for the heap. Oil trailed down her hand. She tutted and wiped it on her thigh.

Playing hard to get? Trying to act like the tough guy? Those generals, those scientists, those empty fucking suits, they were all about to shit themselves. But not him, not mister tough guy. Couldn't be.

Emma’s hand bawled into a fist. The mere tense of her bicep sent the few soldiers guarding the hanger doors scarpering, not wishing to be anywhere close to the giant when her temper was clearly flaring. Seeing those gnats flee her was a sight to behold. That is how it should be. They were just soldiers. She was beyond them, a super soldier they called her. Everyone feared her for it. They knew it, she knew it. Everyone understood it, apart from that one officer. Just watching him sitting there silently making notes. It made her wince. It was like a thorn wedged in her mind, one that she could not scour.

Who the fuck does he think he is? Her dark scowl grew worse, he didn’t even blush when I gave him that show. Does he think he’s special? That's got to be it. He thinks he's better than me. Above wanting me. Oh, I’ll show him. I’ll bring him down a fucking peg. 

A nervous scientist slipped through the crack in the hangar's doors. Emma sighed and pushed herself up to sit cross-legged. She rested her head on her hand, a bored expression stuck on her features. She braced herself for some drivel and awkward interaction. He crept up slowly, looking as though his knees were about to give out beneath him. Emma rolled her eyes. 

“How are we feeling after the test?” he squeaked out.

Emma turned her head and rose a hand to her ear. She heard him well enough, but it was fun to make him repeat it.

“H-How are we feeling after the test!” he stuttered, trying as best he could to quell his fear to shout.

She shook her head, “like a hamster on a treadmill Larry.”

Emma snuck a half grin. Growing this tall meant her voice was deeper and more powerful. The bass from each little annunciation was enough to startle any man. She assumed if she were to shout, she could very easily deafen anyone in her immediate vicinity. Just another little thing in a long list of benefits that serum granted her. Seeing Larry cower settled her mind a bit. Someone knew and understood the correct order of things.

“Y-You know-”

She got right into his face as though she were about to crush with her nose. He tumbled onto his back once more, holding his hand out to shield himself. Emma lowered her voice to a whisper, though that was still enough to overwhelm Larry, “I’ve found your assistant is always willing to me help. Matt would do it for me, he practically begs for work. Do I need to ask him?”

Emma could feel it. It was pure intoxication. Seeing this scientist tremble before her was driving her wild. Her nipples were hardening and it was taking all her restraint not to bite her lip. She imagined that little officer, how she would break and humiliate him like she was doing with Larry. That officer would learn his rightful place, but first, Larry had to be reminded of his. Emma wanted to drill it in even more.  

“You know, there can be sooo many workplace accidents around a super soldier. A little fall, and that's it. They might be scraping what remains of you off my butt if we aren’t careful. If that happens, I might just be addressing Matt as head researcher next time.”

She picked herself up and turned around. Emma squatted down, giving Larry a full and terrifying view of her massive ass. Mewling cries of terror erupted. 

“Aww, what's the matter, do you want it a bit closer?”

Spraying herself out, Emma used her hands to drop her backside even lower, dropping it slow and steady, just to make sure the scientist had a good idea of what fate awaited him if he continued his protests. With a little wiggle and titter, Emma was sure the man was broken and ready to negotiate. Larry's wails evolved into bleats of horror, as though his voice was straining to match the intensity of his fear. One final twist of the knife was needed.

"God, I hope no one is behind me," Emma laughed and shook her ass once more, "I really do need to sit down after such a long day."

A blood-curdling cry. She had never heard someone scream that loudly before to the point their voice gave out. He was ready. She turned around and greeted the scientist with a sneer. Tears streamed down his hollow gaunt face, his eyes wide with horror. 

“No, no no no! Don't ask Matt, don't ask him! I'll do it, I'll do it!” Larry spoke fast, hands up like he was surrendering to the giant, “please Emma, please! I can ask, I can ask them! God please I can do it I’ll get him for you, anyone, whoever you want! Just don’t hurt me!” 

The scientist’s voice trailed off. She might have been a bit too forthright with him. Larry was covering his face, curling into a ball and muttering his pleas for his life into the palms of his hand. Emma shrugged. If he had just said yes at the start, he wouldn’t be in this place. For a man so smart, he often acted like an idiot. 

“Smart choice. Now buzz off and get him, I’m going to undress.” She gave him a little poke, “oh, and if you get the wrong person Larry…”

Emma turned and grabbed a handful of her ass, taunting him with a little giggle.

"I could always use a nice cushion after the tests."

Then with all her might, she smacked it as hard as he could. A concussive blast rocked the facility. The hanger rumbled as if the walls were about to blow out from the sheer force of her slap. The shockwave that erupted from her cheek sent Larry flying backwards like he was caught in a raging storm. He was tumbling over himself until he, at last, landed flat on his back just before the slit to the outside world. She roared in laughter, delighting at how he limped away like a broken toy. His coat was torn apart. He even had a few battle scars to prove his worth to his buddies now.

“Don’t be a stranger Larry!” she cried out.

Emma tingled with excitement. The rush was almost too much to bear. She slipped out of her uniform and tossed the singlet away, landing in the corner and errantly crushing some smaller tanks parked away. That didn’t matter to her. What she cared about was the show she was about to put on. She measured out her brawn, gliding a hand through her muscles, exploring them like she had done a thousand times before. Tensing and kissing her physique, one thought raced to the forefront, consuming her mind.

I’ll show that officer. 

The scientist beside him looked ragged and worn. Jack assumed there must have been a lot to prepare and get right which took its toll on this man. He could symphaise at least. Preparation was why Jack was assigned to the project after all. Moving bits and pieces around, checking everything was at the right place at the appointed hour. That was the only reason why he was privy to such knowledge. Showing off a supersoldier to command must have been a harrowing nightmare to get ready. He would have to ask him about how they hid it so well. None of the forms or dossiers he examined made mention of these new weapons. Something for another time. For now, he was being driven towards the hangar where the giant was staying. From the garbled orders of his superior officers, he was to be assigned as an attache to that woman. They must have wanted more oversight, Jack imagined. 

The jeep raced around the base. Jack scanned the training field once more. Large footprints and handprints, but oddly enough, several dome-shaped craters as well. There were great black mounds also. He saw military cranes around the mounds as engineer crews attached hooks to them. On command, a lead would yell and the cranes would try to hoist. Even from afar, he could hear the metallic groan as hydraulics struggled to heave. Jack went back to his notepad and found his addendum.

Articles of clothing problematic. Clean-up crews not enough. Suggest lighter singlets or stronger cranes to relevant department.

The driver stomped on the brakes. Jack’s mind was thrust back to the moment. They were before a gargantuan hanger. It was the largest he had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine what sort of planes were housed here before. Nothing efficient or practical enough to be of use, that's for sure. The scientist grabbed ahold of the side and lumbered his way out. His legs wobbled on solid ground. Jack tucked his pen away and jumped out. He saluted the driver who then sped away. Jack stood before the great doors, nodding to himself. The scientist coughed into his mouth.

“She’s inside," he said, casting nervous glances, "this is her home, at least for now.”

“Understood," Jack clicked his pen and pulled up his clipboard, "tell me, Larry was it?” 

He nodded.

“Tell me, when do the deliveries arrive?”

Larry stared blankly. Jack pinched his brow.

“Food, Larry. Drinks. Provisions, supplies. Clothing, entertainment. There must be some form of system in place.”

He continued to stare at Jack as though he were speaking another language.

“We’ll attend to it later then,” he turned back to the slit between the doors, “what rank does she hold?”

Larry shrugged. Jack bit his lip then he sighed.

“Private it is then.” He scribbled a note and shot a furious glare at the scientist, “you and I are going to ensure proper protocols are created after this. This is unaccpetable.”

Larry nodded. He did try to speak for a moment, but then it was almost as if his neck lost all power. His head drooped and he stared at the floor. Jack rose an eyebrow and entered the hangar.

The sound of his shoes blacking on the concrete floor echoed. The interior was harshly lit and the air was stagnant with the smell of sweat and oil. There were numerous vehicles around. Jack noted they were older models now long out of production and far behind modern military standards. Tanks, some armoured personnel carriers, a few jeeps. All of them were scattered and spaced out. He moved towards the centre of the hangar where Emma was sitting, her back turned towards him. He made note that her singlet was tucked into a corner. There were a lot of handprints around. Judging from the pebbles and small chunks around, they were freshly made. That, or there were no cleaning crews. Once introductions were made, Jack wanted to notify the engineers about the craters that needed to be filled.    

He stood several paces away from the giant. A resounding black came when he brought his bootheels together, “Major Jack Lovells, Procurement and Logistician officer.”

The ground quaked. Armour trembled and the hanger shook. Emma shifted in the spot, turning to face him whilst still sitting cross-legged. Jack rolled his eyes.

She could have the common decency to clothe herself, he thought.

The giant grinned, “ah! my new assistant. Emma, reporting for duty sir,” thundered her mighty voice, "did you enjoy today's show major?"

Emma beamed a bright smile at the officer. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, flicking sweat away.

“I watched and took notes, as per my duty. Enjoyment is not a factor." He checked a notepad burdened with too many papers.

"So,” she spoke low and softly, “what did you take note of?" she leant in close. 

Her breath blasted Jack, but he remained focused. He was more engrossed in flicking between pages to find his report. Not even the beads of sweat that dripped from her body and crashed around him broke his focus.

"Ordinance, equipment, procurement." He muttered.

She got even closer looming barely a few inches from him. “Is that all you noticed today?”

Jack took the pen out of his pocket. He pointed to the scrunched-up singlet stashed in the corner. “It looked ill-fitting. Those scientists were meant to report changes in height and size to ensure you receive adequate clothing. I’ve requested consideration for larger sizes to be manufactured.”

"Oh, it really just was sooo tight. God, I could feel it riding up all the time, Emma giggled, "it's always just so far up my ass..."

He nodded to himself, still flicking over his pages. “Well, now that I am here, procedures can be put into place." Jack underlined a previous note about her clothing being too tight, "notify me and I can see to it.” 

Jack glanced up. Emma was licking her lips. “Like I can ensure there are scheduled times for food and drink to arrive.”

She hummed in delight. “I’m always famished around here,” her lips were right in his face. Emma’s tongue leered out. Jack took one step back and then he scribbled down a note.

“Noted. I’ll ensure you get a three square meals and a balanced diet from here on out.” Jack scratched the back of his head with his pen. 

I’ll need to get her weight and height. Probably need a nutritionist and dietitian to measure and track calorie intake and expenditure. What a mess. God damn scientists know nothing.

He walked off to the side just as Emma’s tongue raced towards him. Jack had narrowly dodged it with the deftness of a dancer, though he hardly noticed. To him, it was just a swish of air and a wall of wet red passing by. Jack pointed his pen at all the vehicles.

“And those? What purpose do they serve?”

There was a great deal of heavy thuds and crashing behind him. Jack glanced over his shoulder to see Emma now standing upright. She took a step over him, plucked up a tank in one hand and then an APC. Turning on the spot, she squatted down and crushed the personnel carrier in her palm. Emma, grinning all the while, sprinkled the debris in front of him. She let the tank drop into her cleavage and pressed her boobs together. Jack could hear the death throes of the hull as it cried out as it was pulverised between her breasts. He rose an eyebrow as Emma moaned in delight, taking as much enjoyment as she could in eradicating the vehicle. When she stopped, its remains adhered to her bountiful boobs. She dragged a finger down, letting the bits stick to the tip. Tongue out, Emma licked her finger clean.  

Does she enjoy crushing them or does she enjoy the taste of oil and metal? In any case, she's going to need more.

“That doesn’t answer my question. Are they for workouts…” he paused and stared at the scrap pile in front of him, “or are they your food?”

“Take a guess,” she sang in a sweet suggestive tone. 

Pleasure, he supposed. A way to deal with stress. Workouts are a good way to alleviate the frustrations of tests. He clicked his pen, eyed her up a down. Emma was panting hard, her muscle-ladened body glistening. He didn’t expect to be staring at her womanhood nor her erect nipples. Jack found it strange that the military had selected an exhibitionist to become their first supersoldier, but then again, someone like that would be happy being nude whilst they developed new clothes to accommodate her physical changes. 

“I can fill in requests for more equipment. I assume you don’t have any preference in which equipment I scrounge from the depots.”

“I always loved artillery…” her voice trailed off as Jack flicked off to another page and wrote yet another note.

Herecasa has a good amount of pre-war artillery around. Pretty far south though. Might not be the best around, but no one is going to miss a few 200mm cannons.      

“Any reason why?”

Emma beamed a full grin at him. She rose to her full towering height once more. "Let's just say, I'm a fan of big guns."

She brought up her arm. Her bicep bulged, thick blue veins running across it. Emma gave it a loving peck. Then she patted it, unleashing a series of shockwaves that rattled the nearby jeeps. Jack kept on writing, ignoring the disturbance.

Emma placed her hands behind her head and boomed "but those guns ain't got nothing on me!" and tensed as hard as she could.

She tightened her godly hulking might, giving Jack a full display of her overwhelming strength and form. Thick stocky thighs, sturdy rock solid abs, all her muscles gifted to her by that supersoldier serum proudly presented for a full inspection. The metallic sheet walls of the hanger rumbled, the trucks within rattled, even Jack was bouncing on the spot, such was the fury of her flex. Gantries shifted and fell, and the foundations of the hanger began to groan from the stress. Emma laughed, evidentially enjoying realising all her tension. Eventually, she relented and stretched her arms until a joint clicked.

"So," Emma flicked her hair and bent forward, "what do you think?"

Jack shrugged, "you've only got small platforms here. I can look at requisitioning some larger platforms and pieces if you enjoy big guns. After that, we'll have to visit the drydocks and remove the main cannons on the old wrecks. The old ships from the Orient Republics should do nicely."

Just as he was about to start writing on another page, Emma leaned down and grabbed him. His beret came flying out as he was whizzed through the air and brought in front of the supersoldier’s statuesque face. Jack’s head was poking out, but the rest of his body was firmly entombed. He wriggled as best he could, worrying that his pen might have been broken in all the chaos. 

“Now you’re starting to piss me off.”

Jack frowned. “How so?”

“Paperwork this, procedure that," her scowl was dark and foreboding, "you think I care about that?” 

“You might not, but I do.” By pure chance, he wrestled an arm free, which he used to wave about, “all this comes from paperwork and procedure. You want me as an assistant, command agreed. This is my job, my duty.”

“I want you as an assistant for a different reason…” An evil grin leered.

“Dif-”

Jack’s prepared speech about the necessities of logistics and ensuring proper filing was interrupted by being slammed against her abs. 

“Your gonna assist me alright,” her voice reeked of malevolence and pure enjoyment, “those eggheads haven’t bothered making me a big enough towel yet, so you can do your duty and be my sweat rag in the meantime.”

He wanted to voice his protest but he found it hard to find the moment, especially now that he was being rubbed against her rock solid six pack. All he could see was pink, but he could feel it as he was dragged across, sliding across sweat-slicked skin from taut ab to the next. Jack grit his teeth. It was like being pressed into a slimy brick wall. He could hear the thunderous laughs of Emma as she pressed him harder and harder into her midriff. When she had halted, Emma let him rest of her palm. Jack’s garb was heavy and drenched from her sweat. He gasped for air and stared upwards at the super soldier. 

“You’re pretty good at this job. You wouldn’t mind helping me with another area?”

Suddenly Jack found himself thrust into her armpit forced to breathe in her musk and writhe against her. Emma rubbed him up and down, guiding his tiny frame across each and every bead of sweat, forcing him to drink deep and inhale her odour. Jack couldn’t keep up the fight. He was caught between her finger and thumb, yet it was like a vice grip, one he couldn't break free from. There was no escape, no point in struggling. What was happening was going to happen, no matter how much he protested or sought a way to make it end. Jack saw it as a test. A trial of endurance. It would be worth it to see it through without complaint or crying for mercy. Once it had ended, he was back before her face. 

“Oh my, you look a bit worn there major. Sure you can go another round?” Emma looked down and giggled to herself, “this one is a bit more personal, but I don’t mind. Not for a hunk like you.”

She blew him a kiss and dropped him. Jack sailed through the air, slid down her chest straight into her cleavage. With an ear-splitting laugh, Emma grabbed her boobs and pressed them together. They slammed into him and enveloped his pathetically small body. He could hear the dirge of her racing heart beating harder and faster. Again, all he could see was red. Jack was pushed into her supple skin. Her breasts were so soft and plushy yet so slippery. He tried to push back, but anytime he did, Emma brought more of her strength to bear and pressed him even more. When it seemed like it was all too much, when Jack thought he might suddenly break and become a blood stain on her breasts, she relented. Light found him sliding down her cleavage once again until she plucked him up.

Jack’s head swirled. The hangar’s interior was a blur. All the blood was rushing to his head. Every muscle, every nerve was alight with throbbing pain. He was gasping for air, inwardly hoping for a reprieve he knew would not come. He was then placed on the floor and left there. Jack was stuck. He compelled his body to move, but it wouldn’t. He was too tired to try anything. He was resting on his back, left limp and staring up into the lamps above. The floor trembled. A shadow formed and then the gargantuan Emma loomed above him. She held her singlet.

“This is your job now,” she could barely speak. Emma was panting too hard. Jack could see her heaving chest, her flushed cheeks. “Every day for the rest of your life, this is what you are going to live through.”

With a mocking laugh, Emma wrung her singlet. A stream of lukewarm sweat once trapped in her clothing came flooding out onto Jack. He held his breath as best he could. The tidal wave poured over him, washing him away beneath its fury, drenching him further like he was scum brought up by the sea. When he stopped rolling through the stream, Jack was left in a shallow pool. Emma stepped over, squatted down. If she was any redder in the cheeks, it would look she a fever had taken her.

“You’re my little stress ball,” she whispered, hardly able to contain her excitement, “my dirty sweat rag, my toy, whatever I want. That's your duty as my assistant, not your fucking paperwork. How does that sound, assistant?”

Jack rose a weak hand, then it slumped down, splashing in the water. He whispered something up to the sky. Emma got on all fours, turned her head and lent in with an ear facing towards him.

“The paperwork…” he pointed at a clipboard off to his side. The papers were thoroughly sodden.

Emma chuckled to herself, rose back up to her full terrifying height and then bellowed a deafening laugh. She ran a hand through her hair to return a sense of neatness to her now crazed mane. 

“Is that all you can think of?” she waved an incredulous hand and then placed it on her hip, talking to the roof rather than Jack, "even now? After all that?"

When she looked back down, Jack had picked himself up and hobbled over to the clipboard. He gazed over his shoulder to see Emma staring in utter disbelief. Jack grabbed his soaked notes and papers, found his wet beret and addressed the giant. 

“So," he gasped and caught his breath, "you wanted some artillery pieces to train on, correct?”

Emma couldn’t speak. Her mouth was open as if she were trying desperately to say something. Her shoulders then slumped.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she said weakly.

Jack shrugged, wrung his beret to get rid of the sweat it had soaked up. “My job, as assistant and major.”

“God,” she sighed. She placed a palm on her forehead, “you are just… just…”

Emma’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. She then crashed down on her ass like her legs buckled beneath her. Jack moved towards her, wondering if something was wrong. Maybe she had fainted or worse. He heard a groan come from Emma. He shook on the spot. From the vehicles to the foundations of the hangar, everything was now shaking. Jack stumbled to the floor from the sudden and sheer intensity of the quakes. He blinked, struggling to believe it. Emma was growing. The groan was emanating from her. The titaness’s legs were growing thicker and longer with each passing moment, her hips wider and wider until he heard the crunch of metal being compacted. Emma’s head was reaching the ceiling, her back pressing against the hangar wall. The steel frames buckled, panels started to bend and split, unable to suppress Emma's growth. Jack limped as he could, fleeing the growing giant. Pieces of the roof collapsed around him, cracks in the concrete formed.

Ignoring the shooting pains in his legs, he came running out. Jack looked behind. The hangar was attempting to survive the ardours placed upon it by Emma’s growth. It was shaking like the building itself was trembling before the giant’s might. A thunderous thud came. Emma's head burst out, then her shoulders. The next roar of dying metal came at the same time her chest ploughed through the roof. Her hips were next, crashing through the sides. Then the entire structure collapsed. It fell inward, shooting up a puff of grey smoke that obscured Emma for a time.

“Emma held her head, biting down on her lip, “you are just so…” 

The veil of smoke faded. Emma, now nearly doubled in height, stared out, her eyes widening in shock, “what the?”

Jack sighed to himself, slid down and sat on the concrete. It almost felt as hard as Emma’s abs. Almost. All around, the base burst into action. Spotlights illuminated Emma. Half naked and with the debris of the hanger burying her from the waist down, she looked around like a lost and helpless child. Crews came running out of the barracks. No sooner had he fallen did a group of paramedics rush towards him. They were checking over him, shouting out orders and getting him onto a stretcher. He craned his neck up to see a bewildered Emma, her nervous laughter drowning out the sound of sirens blaring. 

Requisitioning a new hangar is a top priority now, Jack thought as he was being lifted away by the medics.

The new hangar was an oven, a raging furnace she couldn't escape. It was an insufferable tomb that Emma had the misfortune to swelter in. She wanted to rip open the door to let a breeze come through, but that wasn't allowed. Apparently, some of the soldiers were somehow more spooked at seeing her lazing about in the hangar. Emma thought it rather stupid. If she really wanted to terrify them them, she could burst through the walls, march across the base, crushing anything and anyone in her path. The guards were truly pathetic if they believed closed doors offered them any protection.

It was neither here nor there to her. More important things needed attending to such as this grand feast before her. A convoy of trucks had just hauled in all kinds of meat, the drivers scurrying away, desperate to avoid being around her for any longer than they needed to be. The largest of such vehicles barely reached her ankle in height now. She sat cross-legged, leaned forward and picked one up only to then accidentally crushed it between her fingers. Emma frowned. Mulched meats, scrap and oil dirtied her fingers. Wiping it on her hips, she took the next and applied a more gentle approach. With all the grace and tenderness and care she could muster, she gently plucked up the next truck and then squashed it in a similar fashion. She grit her teeth. A vein bulged on her forehead. She rose a fist, slammed it down, eradicating a section of the convey on her left.

The few trucks remaining at her right settled after the quake. They carried enough to feed a division of men for a month. For her, each tiny truck was just providing her with just a small bite to eat. Hunger pangs rose. Her stomach rumbled, its intensity rumbling the hangar. Breathing in to calm her temper, Emma tried once more. She pinched it up, dragged it through the air as delicate as she could, craned her neck back and let the food drop in her mouth. A flood of salvia came. Her taste buds were overwhelmed, forcing her to moan and then sigh in delight. The kitchen staff outdid themselves. This was much better than the god-awful rations the scientists concocted for her. Supposedly, some mashed-together cube made in some lab was all she needed to fulfil her dietary needs. Having actual real food like this was a luxury, one she had not even realised she missed since her transformation. She took hold of the next truck in the same careful fashion and had her next bite.

Now that she was even taller, there were a lot of things that seemed like luxuries now. Grabbing hold of things without breaking them was one problem. The more mundane things like bedrolls or mattresses were replaced only a thin sheet on the floor. All she had for choice of clothing was these singlets. It was there, eating alone, Emma realised one other thing. There was a great deal of loneliness now. Sure, she was surrounded by scientists and military men of great distinction, but they were on official duties. None of them saw Emma beyond their obligations or duties. So many people around, yet so alone.

I don't need them.

Friends was something others could spend their time fretting over. Splendid clothing, gourmet food, all frivolities, all districations. She did not need luxury or comfort. Being this powerful was enough, being a weapon its own reward. That is what she was. A weapon, a tool, one being honed day after day, test after test. She would be unleashed one glorious day, let loose upon the Commonwealth. Her time would come. That was all she wanted.

Stabs came from her gut. She sighed to herself. It was a lie, one well told, but not enough. Maybe having a friend until that day came wouldn’t be too bad. The hangar was awfully dull without company. She had already scared Larry off for good. He suffered enough under her. Those guards of hers would probably run for their lives if she wanted a chat after hearing and seeing what she does to those around her. There was one last person. Her mind conjured images of that tiny major. Small, frail, little Jack. She scoffed. She must be desperate for some companionship if she was thinking Jack was in any way a friend. Emma had only been playing around with him, but really though, he was asking for it. If he wasn’t just so by the books and stuck up on the procedures, if he could pull his head out from those pages and admire her strength and beauty, she wouldn’t have sought to rough him up so harshly. Twirling her hair, Emma felt a niggling creep around her crotch. She bit her lip.

I guess... one friend couldn't hurt.

Jack probably felt embarrassed, too afraid to admit his love for her body, how the sight of her made his heart skip a beat. Such a tease, such a naughty awful tease. A fine handsome man, cool and career-oriented on the outside, a horny lust-filled devil on the inside. That was him. Her vivid imagination conjured up thoughts of Jack on his knees, begging to be used as a sweat rag again, crying out to lick her armpits, desperate for a sweet sup. Sordid little Jack massaging her back, rubbing his throbbing member against her brawn, feeling out the crevices between her muscles. She felt her hardened nipples poking against her clothes. With a tut, Emma grabbed an artillery platform, tossing it in the air like ball. A decent enough distraction for now at least. 

It was not enough. Jack wiggled his way back in. Such a rare man indeed. Even bedridden after their little foreplay, he stilled looked after her. The new hanger that acted as her new home was a state-of-the-art prefab. It certainly was more expansive than the previous one, though it was in dire need of some ventilation. Food deliveries came and went, delivering fresh meals. There were even new toys to play around with. She crushed the artillery piece in her hand. He must care for her. That was his admission. He wouldn't utter it aloud, but Jack obviously craved her affection. He was too tough, too hardy to show any display of love.

Cool, caring, and above all, durable. Such a rare specimen indeed. Any regular man would have been mummified beneath several casts when hospitalised, every bone in their body broken. How he could stand and talk after that when she had destroyed tanks just by grating them along her abs, she’ll never know. One thing was for certain, everything she wanted, Jack managed to find for her. That was all the proof she needed. Jack was mad for her. He wasn't a friend, he was a lover in denial.

The sound of clacking came. Light poured in from the slit between the hangar doors. A cool breeze came in, the suffocating warmth going out. Jack emerged, the light upon his back giving his white uniform an almost heavenly glow. He wore a neck sling keeping an arm up, but that didn’t stop him from reading his notes. Stitches dotted his face, as did a few purple bruises. Emma quelled her excitement.

“Back amongst the living assistant?” Emma boomed, grabbing a tank and crushing the mighty vehicle with a mere clench. The feeling of the hull collapsing under her might calmed her. All she wanted to do was lunge forward, smother him beneath her physique, slather him with kisses, drench the little major beneath her sweat.

Focus, Emma, focus… It’s still early morning. Don’t try it yet, play it cool.

“Rest is for the dead,” Jack sniffed, “there are jobs to be done.”

She turned her head, rose a hand to her ear. There was an awkward silence.

“You heard me the first time,” he flicked a page.

Silence again. She heard him huff.

“This isn’t time for games. You have a test soon.”

Emma stared at him, pouting furiously, “is this any way to treat your better my assistant?”

“I’m a major first, your assistant second,” a click came. That infernal pen, that acursed notepad. Even worse, under his shoulder was that clipboard. Emma could feel her blood boiling.

Stop looking at them and pay me attention you shit.

“Do I need to remind you of your place assistant?” Emma rose to her feet, inched herself forward. It was hard to control herself. He was just so much smaller now after her little growth spurt. Jack was equal to her big toe. She brought her foot right to his face and giggled. 

“You were such a good towel, cleaning up all that sweat for me. Maybe you deserve a promotion… would you be just as good cleaning the dirt off my toes?” She wiggled them, taunting him. Emma turned around and squatted down such that her thick meaty ass loomed above him. Digging out her singlet from between her cheeks, Emma giggled, "maybe you can go for a roam between these hills if you do a good job..."

Much to her infuriation, Jack kept writing. He took one look up, rose an eyebrow, and returned to his notes.

“The towel situation is still being attended to.”

Attended to? What does that mean? No matter, no matter... he's just trying to throw you off.

“Aww,” she scooted round and patted his head gently. She tittered as her fingertip unsettled his beret and ruffled his buzz cut, “was it really so bad for you?”

Confess Jack, you know you loved it. Why else would you come back? You want some more fun with me. Just admit it...

“It was inefficient.”

Emma retracted her finger and stared disbelievingly at him. “What?” 

“Inefficient. Before, it could have worked, that arrangement,” he tapped the pen on his forehead then went back to writing, “your growth, however, as noted here by the research team, has led to you becoming some hundred foot taller. Standing at two hundred feet, using me as a stand-in for a towel would be a waste of time, too much skin for me to cover. We would be here all day. The production team are pushing themselves to manufacture a towel appropriate for your new size.”

It was hard for Emma’s mind to process. She first assumed he was acting, that Jack was simply playing the hard man, the stoic solder, not showing weakness nor fear for a single moment. Then she thought he was crazy. Who would think about efficiency at time like that? He was blank, expressionless. Jack was a blank slate, not a man. A man would react with emotion. A man would respond with thoughts, feelings of disgust or fear or list. No. He was nothing. Just engrossed in work, his analysis, his forms and procedures. And where is the fun in that? 

What in God's name is wrong with you?

“My arm hurts is all. Don’t worry about it. Worry about the test. One of the heads has taken a real shine to you.”

Emma blinked. She spoke. She spoke her thoughts aloud and she wanted to smack herself for it. Jack was still writing something. 

“Don’t you hate me,” Emma leaned close, her breath nearly sweeping Jack away, “hate me for all that?”

He shrugged, turned his back and walked to the hangar doors. “If it keeps you happy, I have no issues or complaints.”

Happy? You think I'm happy? Being a test subject, sitting around all day squashing tanks and taking orders from bugs? Alone, all alone?

“Keeps me happy?” she boomed angrily, “you think I’m some fucking pet or something? Something you pat on the head, feed a little treat and watch it dance for you?”

Jack looked up and met her gaze. He was motionless, unflinching, resolute.

"No." There was no fear in his voice. He did not tremble, he did not baulk. Jack stood firm and peered directly into her with a hard glare.

Silence stifled the hangar. Emma expected him to continue, but Jack remained quiet. He wasn't even bothering with his notes, that how serious he was taking this matter. Either he was assessing the best way to disarm her, or he simply didn't have any more to say. Both infuriated her. Jack scoffed, turned away to the hangar doors and waited as if to usher her out. Emma was panting, enraged, ready to stamp on him, crush that blank expression as a red stain on the floor. She took a heavy step forward, stamping her foot down for extra emphasis. He must see her as a plaything. That thought incensed Emma.

“No?” she growled, “then what am I?”

“You are Private Emma, currently seconded to the Research Division of the Union's Armed Forces. I am your assistant, an attache, but also a commanding officer. Your well-being as a soldier is my utmost concern.”

She caught her breath. That boiling rage simmered down into a gentle calm that washed over her. She blinked at him, then she grinned. He had chosen the right words to disarm her. Smart, yet so frustrating. He wasn’t buckling whatsoever. One would think he didn’t want her. All the other men did. They loved her body, wished they could get a similar treatment that Jack received. Handsome, honest, cool, brave. Stamping him into a stain would be a waste. He was being sly, downright devious at hiding his love.

“That’s... nice of you.”

Jack nodded, "I told you. Anything you need, come to me."

Smooth, so very smooth. God, how you toy with me, my little Major. It should be the other way around.

"Will do," she huffed, "assistant."

Her womanhood ached. It was a testament to her willpower not to leap on him that instant. The more he tried to hide his affections, the more Emma wanted to ravage him. The Major never gave ground. He could withstand her perverted displays, her marvellous feats of strength, her indomitable rage. He was the perfect man, stoic and brave, not like all the others dotted around on this base. If only he wasn't so bound to his work. That was something she could whittle at, something that need to be chipped away. When this test was done, a little one-to-one was in order. That was the way. Strip him bit by bit until he could confess. A trip down her cleavage there, a sprinkling of massages, then a visit down south, then Jack would be hers for all time.

“You are scheduled for an ordinance test today. I hope you won’t mind being shot at.”

Emma snapped to attention, prompting her eyes to narrow.

The sun beamed down onto the ravaged training field, a wide open plain littered with the corpses of torn-apart tanks lying sunken in the midst of dry and cracking mud. Sitting centre in the vast expanse of the wasteland was Emma, cross-legged and resting her head on her hand looking thoroughly bored. Jack watched from the runway, taking his notes as always, wiping away a bit of sweat that pooled on his forehead. He looked up for a moment and his eyes caught with Emma’s. With a grin and a cheeky wink, she pursed her lips into a kiss and blew it his way. Jack went back to his papers. 

“A terrifying sight aye?” came a deep voice from behind.

He was about to turn, but he suddenly found Colonel Trent at his side. A pudgy, heavy-set man, his white uniform ladened with medals and ribbons, Jack wondered how he had crept up on him for he should have heard all the jingling metal from a mile away. 

“Quite so sir.”

Trent watched the test. A boom from far away came. Whistling through the air, a shell struck Emma. A thundering boom came as a fireball enveloped her muscular body. Once the smoke cleared, she brushed her shoulder, sighed and went back to sulking. One struck her arn, then one on her chest, the next on her side. Another and another, on and on, tanks reigned hell upon her, firing from all directions. She never flinched or winced in pain. Apart from that little display, Emma was just sitting there, a dull frown upon her immaculate features. In complete contrast, the man beside Jack was beaming a great smile on his fat round face, at least, that is what Jack assumed was happening. It was hard to tell beneath that black mass of a knotted unkempt beard.

“Look at her, those tanks are giving it all they got! No quarter at all I dare say. That sort of barrage would have men ducking for cover and crying for their mothers, but to her!” he scoffed, “to her, it's nothing! She might fall asleep any minute!”

Jack found it hard to believe this man was a colonel. He thought they should be stern, focused, strong in both body and mind. Trent came off more like a drunken jovial dolt than an experienced commander. Appearances  

“Indeed. Nothing at all sir.”

“Ah, but where are my manners, how’s the arm, Major Lovells? You fit and ready?” The fat man turned to face him, still beaming that bright smile of his.

“Stiff, but healing well enou-”

“Good to hear, good to hear!” Trent’s roaring voice cut him off, “I’m going to need a man of your talents by my side for this little project." He bellowed a laugh as if he has just told the funniest joke ever uttered by humankind.

"Ready to make the next step in your career soldier?” he stretched out his hand.

Instantly, Jack accepted. “Yes, of course, sir. Thank you for the opportunity.” Trent’s grip was powerful, dominating even. It took him by surprise. He never expected such a short man to have that much strength. When Trent let go, Jack’s hand was marked red. 

“Brilliant! I knew when I first lay eyes upon you, I thought to myself, by God, Major Jack Lovells, that damn fine officer wasting his time away in logistics, any self-respecting man worth the stars on his uniform would want a man of his calibre close at hand!"

Jack frowned for a moment. He wasn't used to such praise. Nevertheless, he straightened up as thought at attention. "Thank you for the confidence sir."

How did someone like you get to Colonel I wonder? Family maybe? Connections in the Assembly? He doesn't look like a military man.

"I must admit, I was sceptical about this whole operation,” Trent turned to his right and started a slow plod down the runway. Jack followed, keeping a small step behind the Colonel. Shells continued to whistle through the air and strike Emma all the while as he spoke, “a serum that could turn the smallest of women into hundred-foot tall beasts? By god it sounded like the researchers had gone mad!”

“Hard to believe at all sir.”

“Indeed, a right odd mess this! I had to see it to believe it, and no sooner after the display of their first successful experiment had the head of research come begging the chief of staff, you were made assistant! Stranger still, on the same day, Emma here had grown even taller and more powerful!”

Fortunate indeed. Unfortunate for the Commonwealth.

“Coincidence sir,” Jack took a sideways glance at Emma. She was staring at him, eyes fixed on their movements, “nothing more.”

“Coincidence!” he scoffed, “come now Jack. Coincidence, chance, whatever you want to call it, they are lazy excuses meant to hide cause and it's the cause I am interested in. Whatever caused her growth, I intend to find it and exploit it.”

Trent gave a glare over his shoulder, an almost knowing look. One that understood that Jack had played some role in Emma becoming stronger, but couldn’t figure out why.  

Does he know already? 

Trent halted, turned to his left and pointed at Emma, “now then, what do you make of her Major?”

Jack tucked his notepad into his pocket, “make, sir?”

“What do you think, does she scare you? Terrify you?” Trent grinned, “make the blood rush down south?” 

The colonel was inspecting him, his brown yet bloodshot eyes going up and down, down and up.

She’s exactly what I need, what I wanted.

“She’s a soldier,” Jack sniffed, “nothing more.”

“Just a soldier!” Trent smiled and clapped Jack on the back, “come now, speak freely Major! How do you really feel?”

Jack stared out, watching as shell upon shell continued to pound her. Buildings would have been reduced to rubble, armour divisions reduced to smoking husks under such a barrage. Here she was, bored and uncaring as though it was like an inconvenient light drizzle. The corner of his lip curled into a smile.

More than a soldier. A weapon, pure and destructive beyond anything I know... and I get to influence it, command it.

“Emma is quite the…” he paused, looked to the floor, weighed his words carefully and then looked up, “specimen. I feel she will be our greatest asset against the Commonwealth.”

“I concur Major,” Trent smiled though it was impossible to tell if was satisfied with the answer, “we are going to need soldiers like her in the near future. Change is on the wind, a breeze carrying the sweet smell of victory I dare say.”

Jack’s eyes widened. His heart pumped a little faster. An involuntary slither of a smile formed, cracking his icy and uncaring visage, “it’s true then?”

Trent hummed musingly, “The Commonwealth is on its last legs. Its politicians squabble and throw fists in congress, its oligarchs line their pockets with stolen wealth, and the citizens starve and go without.” 

A coldness came to his voice. It was the now words of a wizened military mind, not that of a bumbling oaf, “but like anything on its legs, there will always be other vultures looming above, wanting their portion of the carcass, and there are some vicious birds circling above it.”

A bellow came from an officer, his order to cease firing echoing across the field. The tanks halted. Emma stood up, stretched, placed a hand on her hip. It was then she realised her singlet was blown to pieces. She looked down, and with an annoyed frowned etched on her features, Emma realised her bare chest was on display for the base. Ripping off the remains, she tossed the rags behind her and into the air. Garbled echoes came. To Jack, they sounded like panicked and horrified cries. Off in the distance, a crew scrambled out of their tank. Jack saw a few dots running far away as an ominous shadow formed over them. Four men, sprinting as fast they could. They managed to leap just in time as her singlet smothered their now abandoned vehicle. Displaced air whipped up a cloud of dirt which blasted all the onlookers. Jack and Trent shielded themselves as the wind roared past them. Emma heard all the commotion and looked over her shoulder.  

“Oops…”  she boomed. Uncaring to her nudity, Emma marched over. Her heavy powerful footfalls made both Trent and Jack bounce on the spot. In a few mere strides, she cleared the distance and collected her ruined singlet. Lifting the mound of clothing revealed a crumpled tank, thoroughly flattened into a barely recognisable mass of metal.

Trent roared with laughter, “a fine display! By god, she'll give those Commonwealth lads a fight!”

Jack coughed into his hand, “should we check if the men are okay sir?”

“Hmm? Oh yes yes of course,” he brought his hand to his mouth and yelled, “medics!”

A small jeep came racing on the training field. It bounced around as it hit every bump and hole along its path towards the dazed and worried tank crew stuck out in no man's land. Emma loomed over them, hand over her mouth as if pretending to be shocked and embarrassed. The medics hopped out of their jeep and tended to the men, trying their best to ignore the two-hundred-foot-tall woman and how her toes rivalled them in height. Once they had been checked over, the crew were escorted onto the jeep and then were driven away. With all the entertainment over, Emma yawned and stretched.

"I must inquire something Major, does she not care at all for... modesty?"

"I don't believe so sir. She's had malfunctions with her clothing before and no longer minds being nude whatsoever."

"Hmm. It wouldn't be a good look if were sending a super soldier in stark naked would we? In any case, I believe we can dismiss her for now Major!"

"Right sir," Jack cleared his throat, "Private Emma!"

She snapped to attention immediately and marched over to them. He looked over to Trent to see how he was faring. The Colonel was cool and collected, a grand smile stretched across his wrinkled features. It almost looked like he was enjoying it. Each heavy booming thud from her footfall was making them both sway about. Emma strode over and soon overshadowed them. Jack was fairly surprised at how Trent kept his nerve. He certainly did not appear the part, but there did seem to be a cunning and stalwart man beneath all the flab. Being this close to Emma made one realise their impotence. When someone's small toe is taller than you, anyone would feel helpless and afraid. Yet here were two men almost completely unbothered by her height and power.

"You are dismissed," Jack pointed to his left, "return to your hangar for a debrief."

Emma nodded and gave them a casual two-finger salute. She marched towards her hangar, her earth-rumbling gait making the men bounce on the spot. Jack turned his head to watch her leave. Her body positively shone thanks to the strength of the sunlight striking her sweat-coated muscles. She was swaying her hips, humming to herself as if she did not have a care in the world. Within moments, she made her way along the runway, crouched down, squeezed through the hangar doors, and disappeared beyond. Jack frowned. Her new size had given her more mass. In turn, she was now leaving deep footprints in the runway. Jack made a mental note to try and keep her away from the strip as much as he could. It would be a waste of manpower and materials to keep filling them in.

“Where was I?" Trent broke the stillness, "ah, I was about to say how our good friends over in Kilburg are looking over the seas and are ready to dig their talons in for a piece of the eastern coast. A nice foothold on yet another continent. Then Talisars is hoping to make the hop into the south, shoring up the Confined Seas and wanting to profit from all the trade…”

Trent turned and slowly made his way down the asphalt strip. Jack followed a step behind.

“And then us from the West.”

“No dust on you is there?” Trent grinned, “of course, we will have the hardest time of it. The Commonwealth bled itself badly in the last conflict, but they are no fools. There will be a fortress waiting for us. Lines of concrete bunkers, barbed wire and mines stretching for miles. Worse still, us attacking might unify the country. All the squabbling might end once they all have one target they can focus on. Which could mean...”

He started mumbling to himself. Weighing up options, strategic considerations, thoughts about how best a grand operation like this could play out. There was the keenness Jack had expected. The man was taking in all angles, all approaches. He must have seen the exhibit and realised how much of an edge soldiers like Emma would provide in such a world-altering conflict. Not only would she bring the Commonwealth down, but Emma would also become the very embodiment of the Union's strength.

"Best let me worry about the details Major."

“Of course sir.”

“But I can tell you this much, that lass there," Trent pointed at the hangar, "she is the key. A squad of them surging forward, the Union's invulnerable supersoldiers conquering and destroying anything in their path. Gods above, they will clear the way and we can roll right behind them. With a bit of luck, we can settle our quarrel with the Commonwealth for good."

The thought overwhelmed Jack. To think he would see the Commonwealth fall but also be in command of the weapon that would see its end. It was almost too much to bear. He imagined Emma charging forward, a score of batteries firing at her as she went about flattening the fortifactions beneath her tread, how platoons of men would throw down their weapons, running away before squashed like bugs beneath the descending boot. Then he saw her in the middle of one of their cities. How would their citizens fare seeing Emma, who was taller than any of their proud skyscrapers happily crushing her way through their metropolis? How would they feel watching their once proud defenders cower and beg for her mercy? If their moment together caused her to grow, he would keep doing it. He wanted Emma to be taller, to be stronger than anything the Commonwealth had. Just conjuring up images of this impossibly mountainous woman being able to bring the Commonwealth to its knees through mere footsteps, it was enough to drive him mad. When Jack felt his manhood twitch, he refocused himself. The last thing he needed to do was embarrass himself in front of a superior officer.

"When will that happen sir?" Jack inquired.

"Sooner than you think," that knowing smile came back to Trent, "if we can figure out the reason for Emma's growth, we can remove the unpredictability that's causing the higher-ups to be so nervous. Once it's all noted down and perfected, I can begin broadening out our group, then we can find our merry bunch a role in the upcoming operation."

"Understood sir." Jack bit his lip.

He has to know.

"Which reminds me Major," Trent stopped in his path and turned to face Jack, "I've assigned your new quarters."

"Oh?"

"You'll be bunking alongside Emma from now on. I've already taken the liberty to set up your new office and bed right in her hangar."

He knows.

"Very good sir."

"Perfect." Trent clapped Jack on the good shoulder, "see to it she gets the right company. We wouldn't want our ace against the Commonwealth to feel all alone, right Major?"

"Of course sir. I'll watch over her."

"Good man, good man!" Trent stroked his beard, "keep this attitude up, I might be talking to Colonel Jack Lovells soon." A mischievous smile leered, "and you might be addressing me as General before long. Now get along, you have a supersoldier that needs attending to!"

The deplorable hangar once more. She had barely been out. Worse still, it was the most awful of tests. Where was the fun in being shot at and not being able to return fire? All it did was tickle her, if she could even feel it at all. Emma hoped it was the last time that sort of experiment had to be conducted. Whilst it was fun to brush off the first shell and act nonchalant, the performance wore thin once the barrage was truly underway. Maybe Jack was right in some things. It seemed like a waste to continuously shoot her. Were they expecting the tenth or the hundred round to be any different from the first?

Idiots. She huffed. Maybe Jack's focus on the minute details was rubbing off on her after all. That nagging thought was more horrifying than all those tanks firing at her. 

As if on cue, Jack entered the hangar. She was about to reach over and grab a truck. She thought it was perfect timing, as she was rather pent up after languishing about in the field. Now was the best time to unleash her frustrations upon her favourite toy. Jack strode in with his head held high, arms behind his back, chest puffed out. Emma couldn’t take her eyes off him. Such a dashing man. A bit too uptight still, but such things could always be corrected given time. She heard the crunch of metal. In her hand, she found she had idly crushed the truck. She couldn't even recall picking it up. Emma wiped the pulverised parts into her body, near enough vaporising the remains. What was left clattered to the floor.

“Ah, my little assistant,” Emma leaned forward, curling her hair around a finger, “how did I do today?”

Jack was silent. He made his way right up to her foot and took a moment before speaking. He looked her over, scrutinising the giantess before finally responding. “You did as expected.”

“As expected?” she scoffed. The exhale almost blew him away, “were you expecting anything else from me?”

He shrugged indifferently. “No. You impressed the officers as I knew you would."

“I impressed them?” It sounded like they were treating her like some prize pet, something you took out and paraded for a show. She was a weapon. Impressed. Would they still be impressed once they saw what she would to the Commonwealth?

A weapon is meant to be terrifying, something beyond horrific. It is meant to be so awful, so vile that the very thought of unleashing it would give you pause. You do not find such things impressive whatsoever. They should baulk when thinking about her. "I could always impress them some more if I wanted."

She rose her arm and tensed her bicep. The feeling of it hardening up, seeing the bulging muscle going taut as thick veins streaked across sent an excited tingle racing up her spine. It was greater than before, all of her body was greater now. Her growth had pushed her brawn to levels thought impossible, beyond what anyone could ever hope to achieve in a lifetime of exercise and refinement. Even now, just tensing her bicep was enough to create an uproar. The walls of the hangars groaned, struggling to withstand the pressure placed upon them by the merest of Emma's flex. She gave her bulging muscle a gentle tap. It unleashed a shockwave that sent Jack flying backwards as if hit by an explosion. All around her, vehicles were blown onto their back wheels, precariously balanced as though they were able to topple over. One by one, they crashed back down to their natural resting places. The hangar's walls around her were close to being blown outward.

Emma giggled to herself. Just a bit too much power. Then again, how could she be any gentler? The things around her should be tougher. It was not her fault she was now so strong.

Jack struggled to his feet. He was gritting his teeth, clutching his shoulder. He scooped up his beret and placed it back on his head. Showing no sign of fear, he strode forward to her. Emma grinned. Quite the display of fortitude. For someone so small that is.

"That won't be necessary," Jack said, patting down his uniform, "I imagine we won't have to bother for a while whilst we will be reorganised into a special task forc-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively. Details, details, details. Maybe the real test of fortitude was putting up with Jack blathering on about organisational arrangements. “We doing anything else today?”

Jack shrugged, “nothing planned for the moment." He looked over his shoulder and grumbled, "though I’m sure that was planned.”

A sordid smile came. “So we have some spare time together.”

“It appears that way, yes.” Jack locked eyes with her.

He didn’t blink, nor blush or buckle. He stood there resolutely as if trying to stare her down. The very nerve. He was too confident in himself. She was taller now, more powerful, and yet he was still unflinching. Emma would show him. He was craving it after all, its why he was puffing his chest out. He could have skulked away after seeing her flex her muscles, whimpering like a dog and licking his wounds. No, Jack wanted it. He was just looking the part, wanting her to think he was brave. He wanted a taste. A personal demonstration. Why else would he come in here after the test? 

Emma scooped him off the ground and grasped the tiny officer. She brought him to her face, letting her lustful pants blast against him. Then, Emma had him right before her lips.

“Don’t worry Jack,” she whispered in a low and sultry manner, “I promise to be extra gentle this time.”

Her tongue came out to greet him. She was hoping for some sort of reaction. Instead, he was as cool as the winter breeze and as still as frozen water. It infuriated her. He should fearing for his life, begging her to stop, crying for mercy. He was greeting her tongue with such maddening indifference.

“Before we start,” he gazed at the tongue then up to her, “I have to ask you something.”

Emma rolled her eyes and retracted her tongue. “What?

“The Commonwealth." Jack let the words hang for a moment between them. "Are you ready for them?”

Emma blinked. What the hell kind of question is that? Who drops that sort of thing at a time when there were more pressing issues at hand? “What do you mean?”

“Going to war with them," he was staring directly into her eyes. More than that. A piercing gaze, one that was boring into her soul. "What do you think about such prospects?”

It was part way intimidating. Jack was so fixated on her that he wasn't even blinking. It took Emma a moment to remember that she was the giant here, the one will all the power. If she wanted, she could squash Jack into a bloody pulp, grind him into a stain upon her godly physique. His stare was unsettling, but why? Did he not care? Jack certainly wasn't stupid, that was much was evident. Was he suicidal? Does he not place any care about his own well-being?

“Are you asking if I’m ready?”

“I don’t doubt that whatsoever." Some colour came to Jack's face. He looked flushed. A whisper of a smile came to his lips, "I just... need to hear it is all.”

Emma couldn’t help herself. She pursed her lips to hide her grin, but it came out all the same. 

You perverted little devil.

Emma tittered. A rare slip from the personification of cold and impersonal. Placing a finger to her lips, her eyes fixed on the ceiling for a moment, she pretended to think upon the matter. Then, she looked down on Jack, a suggestive smirk on her face. She took on her usual low almost cat-like purring voice, “Oh, you don’t want to imagine what I’ll do to them." 

Jack's cheeks were getting redder, his breathing more erratic. He was trying desperately to contain his smile. Emma grinned. A sweet spot at last. She grabbed a tank on her right and brought it up. Her nipple was hard and erect. "Think of all those little tanks, all lined up just to stop me."

With Jack entranced by her, she pressed the tank against it, grinding the metal into scrap against her teet. Jack gulped, his eyes wide with excitement, his panting matching Emma's in intensity. This was it. No longer the professional whatsoever. Just a bit more and he would be ready for her. Emma moaned as she tweaked her nipple. She was grabbing up more tanks and vehicles around her, crushing them against her bosom, her lustful groans booming louder and louder after each one she would then pulverise against her herculean brawn.

With an armoured columns worth crushed in her hand, pressed into torn heaps, Emma displayed her handiwork to Jack. All that was left was an amalgamation of metal, of wrent hulls and seeping oil. She let it fall out of her hands. It clattered against the floor with a harsh bang.

"Hmm~ But the things I do to these toys you leave around the base are just a bit of… foreplay." She got close, poised like a lioness ready to pounce on her prey. Jack, tiny, insignificant Jack was frozen in place next to her lips. With a sultry whipser, "when I get my hands on the Commonwealth… well… you’ll just have to wait and see. But it won't be pretty.” 

Jack was ready. Even now, he was shivering, quaking, his cheeks so blood red they looked almost sunburnt. He was trying to speak, but nothing came to him.

"Does that answer your question, assistant?"

He was murmuring something, stuttering like an idiot. Jack was dazed. Stunned. The time was now. Emma pounced. In an instant, she pressed her lips against him, slathering the tiny officer beneath a tide of kisses. Her tongue rolled out, licking him up, tasting him, indulging in the sensation of having Jack struggle against her. She could feel him writhe, putting up a feeble fight. Each time he dared to resist, the more Emma pressed upon him. After a long embrace, she relented. Taking him by the collar, Emma dangled him high off the ground as if he were her prized catch. 

The officer was dripping thanks to her saliva. His uniform, sodden and torn, clung tight to his body. It left nothing to the imagination as to his raging excitement. She giggled. Her free hand ran down her body. She moaned, bit her lip, nursed her breast. "Mmm~ just imagine," Emma brought Jack to hips and turned. She swayed them, taunting him by getting them closer and closer with each motion. Grabbing a handful of her thick ass cheek first and then slapping it, Emma tittered, "all those Commonwealth's soldiers, all those pathetic specks playing army men, I can't wait to grind them pulp beneath me. When I get to their cities..."

She hadn't even noticed how her slap blew out sections of the hangar. Cracks on the wall appeared, metal sheets were blown away by the shockwave unleashed by her smacking her cheek. It was driving her mad now. The thought of unleashing that power whilst marching through a city, tearing it to pieces, decimating Commonwealth beneath her tread one gargantuan step at a time as Jack watched on. It was too much. Her womanhood was aching. Fire raced along her spine. But it wasn't good enough for her. Taunts and kisses were only the starters to her whirlwind of lust. Foreplay before the storm.

In one swift motion, Emma turned, slammed Jack into her abs and fell onto her back. The alls of the hangars convulsed as the totality of her weight crashed into the concrete. Laughing, she rubbed him across the folds of her six-pack, letting him soak up all the sweat that made her abdominals glisten like polished jewels. She dragged him along the concaves, each running wide and deep like a trench. Once he had endured her abs long enough, she brought him up to her cleavage and let him rest for a moment. 

“Aww~ tired already?” Emma cupped her breasts, "if you don't move, you're gonna get crushed!" Jack was limp. He twitched. He tried to push himself up. "On the count of three! One... two..." Emma slammed her boobs together, "Three!"

It was barely noticeable. Jack disappeared between her bust, squished against her flesh. After her fun last time, she didn't even know what her cup size was now. It was hard for her to fully handle her bosom now and it seemed that even H-Cup would be far too small a guess. All the more for Jack to enjoy. He must be loving it. To be pressed, massaged, overwhelmed by mere embrace by her breasts. She would loosen her grip, let Jack unstick himself from one of her boobs, roll down and then slam them right back together, laughing all the while.

The ache was worse now. She couldn't hold herself back. Even a supersoldier like her has limits, and she had been tempting fate for far too long. She was ready to trap Jack between her fingers and take him for the trip of a lifetime. Somewhere south, he could help attend to her aches.

The thought suddenly struck her. Was he still alive? The anxiety punched her gut. Caught up in the moment, she had forgotten that, after all, he was still just a man.

Emma relented. When her breasts dropped, he was adhered to her left boob, stuck in spot face pushed in her flesh. He was slowly decompressing off her. The curvature of her bust let his limp body tumble down until he slammed into the valley that was her cleavage. He didn't move. Her heart stopped.

“Are you alright?” Emma meeked.

A weak groan came. Emma hadn't realised how tense her body was. When relief washed over her, her head flopped back, smashing into the floor and cracking the concrete.

She felt the pitter-patter. He was up on his feet and moving. No, he couldn't be. In her mind, he was a broken shell, torn up by her boobs. There is no way his bones were not atomised in the onslaught, not after his trip as a towel across her abs. It was not possible. No one that small could be that durable.

Emma craned her neck. There he was. Jack was standing upright, brushing down his ripped uniform. Their eyes locked. Her heart lodged in her throat. All she could hear was just how hard it was now hammering. She was amazed, glad, just estatic to see him moving about, to have him wandering along her body. He gave her a thumbs up. Impulse took over. She raised a finger and gently stroked his head. Emma giggled as she rubbed his cheek as best she could. It was a struggle to try and pet something so small with such precision.

It dawned on her. The almighty weapon that would see the downfall of the Commonwealth was petting someone. Petting! She was devastation incarnate, a walking cataclysm! How could she, a natural disaster given form, do something benign and innocent like petting? Emma pulled her finger back and pointed at him in an accusatory manner.

"Don't you dare do that to me!" she roared, "don't you dare! When I ask you something, you say respond!"

He brought his heel together in attention. Instinct and training at its finest. “We're you worri-"

"No!" She roared, slamming the ground with her fist. Panels of the hangers came raining down, the foundations convulsed and shook. Fissures in the ground formed, snaking and zipping across the ground as the tremor cascaded out. Alarms and warning sirens blared. "Why would I be worried about you? Worried about anyone! Everyone should be worried about me!" She plucked him up and heaved herself upright. Anger boiled her blood. She wanted to stamp on him, throw him, eradicate and scour his tiny frame from the face of the earth.

There was a smile on his face. Next, it was gone. Jack's mask returned. She was scowling at him and it was taking all her effort to maintain it. But slowly, surely, her fury faded. Emma looked around to see the sad state of her home now. Too much chaos in too short a timespan. She placed him back on the ground, away from the crater that outlined her gargantuan and brawny frame. "Tell them I need some new tanks. And get someone in to fix the roof."

"Right away."

Jack spun on his heel and marched out. He disappeared beyond the hangar door into the light.

It was insanity. Nothing was making sense. One second she wants to break him, next to love him, to care and cherish him, then in the final moment, decimate him until nothing remained. Now that he was gone, she wanted him back, when he was here, her mind would go from one extreme to the next. All she wanted now was to scream, to vent her frustration on something, anything at all.

Dizziness came. Her head swirled. "W-What is..."

The groaning started, furious and unrelenting. Her vision was a blur. That dirge came; so to ddid the searing heat. It was enveloping her body. It was like she was melting away. The warmth was all-encompassing. When sense returned, she opened her eyes, only to be blinded by sunlight. Emma raised her hand to shield her eyes. A crash and crack, the horrible sound of hardy metal being torn asunder. Her arm ploughed clean through the hangar roof. She looked down to find she had grown through her housing once more.

Her legs had smashed through the thick doors, her hips torn the walls apart. Bewildered, she stood up. Her broad muscle-gorged thighs delivered the killing blow. They smashed through what was left of the roof as if parting through a cloud rather than several inches worth of steel. With a whine, the structure fell in on itself as the totality of her weight shifted. In place of the hanger, a titaness now stood, looming larger than ever over the base.

All below, it looked like ants were scuttling around on grey patches. Squinting helped her make out some of them, but up this high, they were indescribable dots scurrying about as best they could. She surveyed the land. The mock battlefield, the runways, the forests that surrounded this clandestine base, it was all so insignificant now. To call even the towering oaks toothpicks would undersell just how small they were now against her. Structures like the barracks were like miniature versions, something a child might play with. Emma titled her head to see the devastated remains of the hanger at her feet.

"Oops." Her utterance boomed across the base. It was deeper than before, the sheer bass of it bringing brought the ants around her to a standstill. It brought a smile to her face. They must have been terrified. The thought that her voice could make them tremble was too intoxicating. So much growth, so much power in such a short amount of time. At this height, Emma truly felt she was now beyond compare. Jack would have to find an even bigger hanger now. If one even existed to begin with.