Dear Doctor

By Vaalser4

Author's Note: This is a story somewhat different from my usual ones. Instead of the girl-gets-gigantic-and-rampages type of story, I wanted to write a story from another perspective. It consists mostly of a letter written to a therapist about a relationship between a human and a giantess.
There is a little crush, vore and violence, but not as much as in my other stories. The giantess is of the mini-type, though a giga-sized section is also present. And a sex scene. It has a slight more humorous touch than most of my stories, but its no comedy mind you.
The story is not divided in chapters, because of its nature. I hope the readers don't dislike this choice.

Have fun reading it and tell me what you think of it!

 

Dr. Hans Brücke sat in his manor checking his mail. Outside, it rained. Droplets ran over the large windows. Wind blew against the small birch in his garden. Seated in his favorite, cozy chair with a cup of hot tea within reach and next to his hearth fire, he rummaged though the letters.
He got a lot of mail each day, all from people asking for his advice. The doctor was a well-known psychologist, who worked as a counselor/ relationship therapist for a famous German newspaper. His page, called "Dear Doctor Brücke" published a number of letters from readers as well as his advice daily. The problems usually ranged from people who thought their partner cheated to readers who didn't know how to bring up a certain issue with their husband/wife. Sometimes, the call for help was more serious, like women being abused by their husbands.
Most of the time, the advise Dr. Brücke gave was "to talk". Talk with the person in question. Be respectful while talking, maybe even under the supervision of another psychologist or relationship therapist.
Speak about the problem. Utter it. That was usually his advise. He knew that the main source of frictions between people was in many cases the lack of communication.

As he browsed through his mail, Dr. Brücke noticed a thick, yellow envelope. He opened it curiously. Inside, he discovered six sheets of paper, as far as he could tell from a quick check, all scribbled full. Dr. Brücke's eyebrows went up. Obviously the writer had a lot to say. It happened sometimes that a reader wrote more than was necessary, but he had never received such an elaborate letter. Dr. Brücke poured himself another cup of tea an began reading.


"Dear Doctor Brücke,

Let me introduce myself. My name is Hermann. I'm 25 years old and work at an office for IT products. The reason I write to you is that I do not know who else I can turn to. It's about a girl I met about three years ago. Her name is Traxa, she is also 25 and for about two and a half years now we are a couple. I have a big problem. Literally.

You see, my girlfriend is a giantess.

Yes, she is one of the few giants who moved from their home, the isle of Brechia in the Atlantic, to our country. You no doubt know that since the Portuguese discovered the island in the early 16th century, which they called the "Ilhas do Gigantes", rarely one of the giants migrated to another place and live among us humans. Apart from the fact that they tend to keep to themselves, they are seldom fully accepted by us because of their size. And of course because there are quite some problems in day-to-day life for a giant living among us. They literally have trouble to "fit in".
But sometimes one of them takes his or her chances and migrates to either Europe, Australia or America. As my girlfriend has.

Traxa is, for her kind at least, of normal height. She measures, from head to toe, 36 feet and 7 inches. With my 6'9 I'm well above average height, but next to her, I barely reach her knees. Taste for adventure and because she has some kind of, as she calls it, "preference" for mini-men, she decided to leave her home five years ago and tried her luck in my home city, Lübeck. We met there and, like I already said, we are now together for about two and a half years.

No doubt you already comprehended that we are a couple that catches the eye. Even though giant tourists are not unheard of in many major cities (some even have special build hotels for them to stay in), Traxa herself still draws lots of attention while walking the streets of Lübeck. She gets all kinds of comments, like the classic "How is the weather up there?" and "Do you spit or swallow?", referring to the movie "Dude, where is my car?" . And when people realize that I am her boyfriend, even dumber reactions can be expected. Some people are baffled, others wonder -aloud- how someone can fall in love with such a being, and some question my state of mind. I try not to be bothered or offended by it, but it is very hard sometimes.

Traxa doesn't listen to such comments, for she has to pay attention to other things. While walking, Traxa has to look where she steps. In the past, she has accidentally crushed more than one bike or smashed a restaurant chair under her feet. Did I mention she has a size 78? Her footwear is custom-made or imported from the isle, like her clothes.

Now, apart from looking where she goes, shopping is simply not possible. First, she doesn't fit in a common shop of course. She can't, for obvious reasons, even squeeze through the door. Second, looking at the items in the display window isn't easy for her. She either has to squat or to kneel down, which isn't always a good idea in a crowded shopping street. She'd block the entire road with her legs. And if it is rainy weather, the kneeling would soak her trousers at the knees.

Squatting is no good idea either. Her body blocks the pavement as well while doing so, and her -impressive- booty a good deal of the driveway.
My girlfriend once told me that when she still was a newcomer in our city, she did squat to admire two small, crystal chandeliers.

She thought they'd make fine earrings.

Anyway, she was looking at the shiny items when a loud smash knocked her off balance. A van had crashed into her behind, which indeed blocked half the road. The front of the big vehicle was folded like an accordion, such had the impact been. Luckily, the airbag saved the driver's life, while Traxa had to walk around with a large bruise on her butt for two weeks afterwards. No charges where pressed because the pedestrian is usually innocent according to law.
It is a pity that we cannot go to a common restaurant or other establishments often, for I'd really love to take her out here or there. It is only possible to go to a restaurant with a large garden outside during sunny, warm weather, where she can sit then. The only other option is a drive-in cinema, without a car though."

Dr. Brücke had been reading the letter with growing surprise. A human and a giant being a couple? Yes, he knew of the giant race, but not much more than most humans. And he had never heard about one being the partner of a human. It was very odd, even for him. Draining his cup of tea and pouring himself another one, he continued to read.


"So you can make yourself a better image of Traxa, I'd like to tell you more of her. Her eating habits, day-to-day life, her job, and what we have been through together.

Traxa, like all of her kind, lives in a house that lies partially underground. The giants usually dig a deep hole, make it waterproof with concrete, and build a small -by their standards- stone wall around it. Her house is a rectangular building, 100 by 120 feet and 50 feet high. No separate chambers, like all giant's buildings. There she cooks, sleeps etc..

When she gets up, she washes herself, using more water than we do of course. She cannot shower, but bathes in a pool-like bathtub. For a toothbrush she uses the kind of brush we use to scrub our backs with while having a bath. Her comb is made of metal and about the same size as a common door.

Her breakfast consists usually of fifteen loafs of bread, with either a pound of meat of cheese- on each. Sometimes, she makes herself what she calls a "Titan's Omelet," after a line of the movie "Asterix conquers Rome". Just like in that cartoon, for the omelet in question one needs eight dozen eggs.

Fruit is also popular among the giants for breakfast. Traxa eats twelve melons or 30 pounds of oranges, pears and apples instead of the bread then. And she drinks enough coffee or tea (with three pounds of sugar) to fill six barrels. The giants usually eat two meals a day, not three like us: breakfast and supper/dinner. No lunch.

Dinner, yes. It is sad that I cannot afford to pay the bill of the restaurant if we can go to one together. I'd have to pay at least a month's earnings to satiate her. She has a huge appetite.

Can you imagine she starts with ten gallons of soup, an entire cow or pig, twenty pounds of boiled potatoes, fries or rice, six pounds of vegetables and seven gallons of ice-cream or pudding for dessert? The bill shows usually around 3,000 Euro, my own food excluded.

So we either go Dutch or she pays everything. It is not comforting for me. Of course in the restaurant she draws attention as well, which bothers me too. I can understand its quite a sight to see her put three heads of lettuce at once in her mouth, but really, if you want to see something big eat, go to the zoo and watch the elephants.
The restaurants like her though. She makes them earn well.

Barber and dentist have to visit her at home, unsurprisingly. The barber needs to cut her hair while she sits cross-legged on the ground and the man stands on a small platform about 15 feet high. He uses a pair of hedge shears to cut her hair. It goes quicker that way and her hair is three times thicker than ours.

And then the dentist. Its always funny to see when the brave man almost disappears up to his waist in her mouth, wearing a miner's helmet with a lamp on it. Otherwise, it'd be too dark to see anything.

Ah yes. Once, she had a hole in a molar. The dentist had to fill it, using bigger tools than usual. He needed a common drill, ten times as much filling material and a steam-powered pump to drain away her saliva. Good for him he got out of her mouth before telling her to put her teeth together, for they can come down like a guillotine.

When she visits me, she has to stay in the garden. Luckily, I have one. Imagine that I would live in a flat or something like that. It'd be impossible then, even though she can easily see through the windows inside homes on the 5. floor. She cannot enter my house though, nor can she stay to sleep, but when the weather allows it, she stays outside. It's a pity that is the only way.

Its exciting, however, to have such a big girlfriend. Her breasts are bigger than the biggest pumpkins, though in proportion with the rest of her body. She can hold me against a wall with them, but we've tried that only once. Two bruised ribs for me.
And her legs, they are muscled but feminine. Its a remarkable feeling to embrace them and nestle myself against them. Lovely!
Her feet are one and a half yard long, so a little shorter than my body. Traxa likes to have her soles rubbed. You can understand that I'm busy quite a while with that.
I like to snuggle with her, and in Traxa's eyes, I am like a living doll. She loves mini-men. And I love large women, hence our relationship.

And then our sex-life. Yes, we have one. The needs of the giants are not unlike our own, and in their culture, sex is considered far less a taboo than in ours.
For obvious reasons, Traxa can't be on top when we sleep with each other. I have to be on top, but would describe my position rather as being "in front" than on top.
Traxa usually lies on the floor, on her back, and I stand in front of her. My girlfriend's, lets say womanhood, is about the same level as mine then. And I already told you I am 6'8.
She likes to be stimulated with my hands, which I rub over her womanhood. My penis alone is something she'd hardly feel, hence. After all, her genital measures 9 inches, her clit has the size of a cherry, and can swell to the size of a tangerine.
And what else could I do with my hands? I cannot reach her breasts, hardly even the other side of her thighs. I rub my penis against a wall of her vagina, because it cannot touch both walls at once- her genital is too broad.
She usually doesn't notice me coming, yet I do when she does. Her juices cover half my body.

Which reminds me, she has had human lovers before. She almost squeezed one poor guy to death in her orgasmic throes. Luckily, his screams brought Traxa back just in time, otherwise he'd have exploded like an overcooked blood sausage. The guy now seems to have developed a taste for -human- women who do ballet.

I really enjoy the sex with her, but I am always afraid my giant girl will forget I am -compared to her mountains of muscle- fragile and accidentally kill me. I've had women before, human ones, but it is not nice if you have to be on your guard all the time while having sex.

For that, we tried another position once. Traxa lifted me up and pumped my body in and out of her while standing. It was OK, but after she came (it is like a bucket full of hot honey is splattered over my crotch) she absently let herself fall to her knees. It scared the hell out of me, for it was like a mountain came crashing down on me. We haven't tried it ever since.

So it is from one side very exciting to have such a gigantic girlfriend, but there are severe limitations. That is one of the issues I'd like to bring to your attention."

Dr. Brücke blinked a few times. He could hardly picture the huge quantities of food Traxa consumed. Und then these love-making games? It was getting more and more absurd. Was this letter a joke perhaps? No, he had to take everything serious. At least until he had read it all. He took another swig of tea and read the next page.

"Yes, giants have trouble to fit in our society, but Traxa managed to do so very well.

You see, she has found a job at a junkyard soon after she arrived here in Lübeck. The junkyard's owner needed a hand and Traxa applied for the job. There she had great success immediately because she lowered the production costs of compacting the cars- she uses her hands and feet. Not bare of course, since the sharp metal would cut her skin, but wearing special-made gauntlets and boots both made of a titanium-steel alloy. And plastic eye-protectors.

It is quite a sight to see her at work. I've witnessed it myself often.

First, she steps on the car, pressing its roof down. Although my girlfriend wears a size 78 her foot can't cover the whole thing at once, so she usually starts with crushing the roof. It caves in under her weight (35,500 lbs, give or take a few dozen) while the windows splinter and shatter. Then she stomps on the engine, two or three times, flattening it completely while she keeps one foot resting on the caved-in roof. The tires, the ones that didn't spring off already, are torn from their axis next. After she has flattened the trunk, the downtrodden car is picked up- it looks like a tablet compared to her- and squeezed with her hands into a ball. Traxa always turns the wreck into a ball first, before finally she shapes the vehicle into a cube. Its easier that way, she says.
 
The compacted cars are thus made ready to be transported for recycling. Once a week the train from the recycling centre arrives to pick up the cubes. They are being put into a high-temperature oven at the centre, so the steel melts and be poured into handy bars.
The glass shards on the ground are removed at the end of each day with a dustpan and brush adapted to her size. She needs about three minutes for a car, much faster than a press.

Now, usually one cannot get rich starting as a simple junkyard employee, but Traxa has managed it. She owns the junkyard now for about three years. You see, apart from her boss (the former owner of the place) she was the only person who worked there. That is the reason she could acquire the whole company one day for hardly any money. Let me tell you how that came to be.

Her boss suddenly disappeared. From one to the next he simply vanished. As if the Earth had swallowed him. Even today Traxa still wonders what happened to her former boss or where he went. Or why.

It was exactly one year after her employment. Usually, this is no reason for celebration, but her boss held one anyway. The reason was the junkyard had been so prosperous because of Traxa. Her boss told her that she was the best that ever happened to him. Hence the feast.

The party went until midnight. Before leaving, she remembers her boss telling her that he had finally, thanks to the huge profits he made due to Traxa's low overhead, been able to buy a specific item he dreamed of ever since he was a boy. Although Traxa wanted to know what it was, he wouldn't tell. It was a surprise, he said. It was the last she, and the world, would ever see of him.

The next day Traxa arrived half an hour too late at the junkyard, for she had overslept. She usually goes to bed relatively early, and is not used to staying up until midnight, hence. Therefore, she was in a hurry to crush the cars, especially since the train to pick up the compacted vehicles was due to arrive later that day.

Traxa recalls everything so well because of an unusual car she saw on the junkyard that morning. It was a Rolls Royce "Silver Shadow", a very expensive car. It looked like new. However, since Traxa was late and in a hurry she didn't think about it too much. So she quickly went to work. She stomped on the Rolls Royce, crushed it to a thin plate and squeezed it into a ball first and to a cube second. Work as usual. The other cars followed.
The train arrived and took the compacted cars to the ovens of the recycling centre. But her boss did not show up. First, she thought he had overslept as well or that he was maybe sick because of the partying last evening. But he didn't show up the next day either. Nor ever after. He didn't answer any calls, emails or letters. He was gone.

She never found out what happened to her boss. Nor did the police, whose elaborate investigation two days later turned up nothing. And since her boss neither had any family, nor left a will, the junkyard could be bought for the symbolic amount of one Euro, which Traxa promptly did. Ever since, she is the owner of the car-compacting junkyard and has amassed a nice amount of wealth.

Which is not to say that compacting cars is my girlfriend's own source of income. In the weekends, she sometimes ears a little extra by demolishing houses. Only small buildings tough, a skyscraper is too large even for her. But a common house, even two story one, is something she can break down easily. Bricks are the size of matchboxes to her, and she can break them by simply squeezing. And she is able to break a four inch thick wooden beam with three fingers. She puts them on index and middle finger and snaps it with her thumb. Like a matchstick. So it's no problem for her to demolish a house with no tools. Let me tell you.

Suppose a lone villa needs to be torn down. Traxa, wearing her eye protection, work boots and gauntlets, first inspects the house from all sides to see how to tackle the demolition best. When she has determined the correct procedure of tearing it down, she begins.
First, she digs her hands, they easily measure four feet, under the roof and lifts it off. She then tears at the walls, breaking them into pieces like cardboard or dried cake. The windows are smashed with forceful strikes of her fists.
When the walls are torn down she shoves the roof over the debris and tramples everything into tiny fragments. It looks like a viner treading grapes, the way she lifts up her knees and stomps the roof's tiles, the concrete and masonry. She sometimes kicks the walls to smash them quicker, but when other buildings are nearby, this cannot be done because of the debris flying around- it could damage the surroundings.
Of course, if there is a cellar she stomps on the floor above it first to set the subterranean space free. Its handy, a cellar, for Traxa can shove the broken walls into it before trampling.
She cleans the side by dropping the debris in the trailer of a waiting van- again using her hands instead of a gigantic shovel. Within half an hour, an entire villa is totally smashed and removed. Much quicker than a bulldozer could.

Traxa once demolished an old farmhouse. Because it was a large, lonely building, she could act more violently while tearing it down.
We were a couple already then. I filmed it, from a safe distance, and put it on You tube.

Yes, there are a lot of videos of giants and giantesses on the net, including of Traxa, whose demolitions and car compacting are often filmed by giantess fans. This, however, is a video I made exclusively of her."

Dr. Brücke looked up again. A giant, and a female one at that, demolishing cars? And houses? He was astonished. He dropped the letter and went to his computer. It stood in a corner of his study, showing the screensaver. Dr. Brücke typed the URL Hermann wrote and watched.

First, he saw a young man with brown, short hair and glasses, standing about 90 feet from a long, rectangular farmhouse made of white bricks. He told that the building behind him was marked for demolition. Usually bulldozers and wrecking balls did the job. "But," he continued, grinning, "there is a far more effective way than bulldozers...".

Dr. Brücke saw a hulking, muscular behemoth of a woman appear on screen. She had blonde, shoulder-length hair that hung loosely. Her facial features were rough and pretty. The girl, who indeed looked about being in her mid-twenties, wore large eye-protectors, metal gauntlets and strong, well-crafted boots, also made of solid metal, and Dr. Brücke wondered for a moment how much her footwear would weigh. Her body was dressed in a jeans overall, showing her bare arms and legs.
Dr. Brücke noticed by looking at her limbs she was very muscular.
The huge muscles that bulged and rippled as she moved would have looked impressive on a woman of human-size, but on this colossus, they were absolutely awe-inspiring. Not as freakishly prominent as in some female body-builders, but well sculptured yet feminine. And more than impressive.

"If she'd flex her bicep," Dr. Brücke thought, "the bulge could probably dwarf a basketball."

Her enormous legs looked like flesh-colored tree trunks, able to squash an elephant between them. The doctor quickly pondered if he'd like to have such a woman as his mate, even now, being twice as old as she was.

He wouldn't like it.

The giantess, it was clear she was one for the roof of the farmhouse barely came up to her shoulders, waved at the camera. Then, she violently kicked against a wall.

The bricks gave way, but didn't break. A second attack, with her fist this time. The bricks broke now, the huge girl had punched a large hole in the wall. Smoke of concrete dust mulched out and debris rained down.
Traxa punched the wall again and again. Each time the hole grew bigger, as did the pile of debris at her huge feet. With a rumbling sound, the mortar and bricks crumbled and broke. It was impressive to see.
When the wall was destroyed, Traxa violently kicked the one adjacent to it. This time, the bricks immediately gave way. Stones flew around, the masonry smoked and crumbled. Luckily, the camera wasn't hit. Dr. Brücke saw the enormous arm- and leg muscles pumping and growing in size. The result of someone doing hard, backbreaking work each day.

After that wall lay in ruins as well, Traxa tore the roof from the house like a large sheet. In her powerful hands, she crumbled the beams and tiles as if they were made of plywood covered with tiles of Paper Mache.
The sweating, hulking giantess struck, kicked and trampled one of the two remaining walls, with surrendered quicker to her enormous body than a wrecking ball or bulldozer could ever manage. It broke, shattered and yielded to the huge metal-clad hands and feet of this huge woman, who tore down the man-made structure like nothing. Stones and mortar flew everywhere, the rumbling sound of stone against stone was almost deafening.

With the last wall Traxa did something that baffled the watching doctor even more. She punched again a hole in it, but this time, about four feet from the floor. Then she kneeled and put her arm, which was about 15 feet long, through the hole. Her big upper arm fit, but barely. Grinning in the camera, Traxa slowly flexed. At first, nothing happened safe that the impressive bulge her biceps made filled the hole completely. But after three seconds, the wall shook. Cracks appeared, mortal loosened and fell down. Traxa grimaced, and with a loud rumble, the wall broke into many pieces.
Dr. Brücke felt a chill running down his back. This woman just destroyed a solid brick wall by merely flexing her muscles! He had never seen anything like that! He saw the huge bicep, bigger than a beach ball (let alone a basketball), when the dust settled down. Veins swollen and whitish because of the dust and debris of the wall it destroyed sticking on its sweat.

Traxa stood up, brushed herself off and trampled with her huge feet the entire farmhouse into crumbles. Nothing withstood her vast weight, stomping feet and strength. The camera zoomed in on her enormous feet as they trod down on the now ruined building. After everything was obliterated, Traxa triumphantly rose her arms and smiled in the camera.

Dr. Brücke turned off the monitor. He felt light-headed. It was so surrealistic. So weird. How could somebody love a creature like this? He went back to his chair, sat down and took a swig from his -in the meantime cooled down- tea. After a minute of thought, he picked up the letter and read the next page.

"Traxa told me she'd really love a full body plate, so she could let herself drop on a house, destroying it entirely, or sit down on it. She thinks it'd be a great feeling, sensing the small building slowly giving in under her butt and weight, crashing through the roof and obliterating everything under her huge weight. Makes her feel powerful. At least she thinks so.

Oh yes, that reminds me. She once indeed tried to sit on a house to be demolished wearing her (tailor-made) jeans overall. Yes, the house gave in under her weight. But she didn't feel great afterwards. The cloth of her overall was torn on several places and Traxa suffered a few nasty cuts, scratches and bruises. Broken stone can even cut a giants' skin, which, as you may know, is about half an inch thick. Too bad she has not yet found a company that is willing to manufacture a full body plate out of metal for her.

Now, it may seem that my girlfriend relishes in destruction, but she is a very kind person at heart. For example, she donates blood every six months, which, in her case, is about 15 gallons each time. Yes, a giant's and a human's blood are compatible, after all our DNA is more similar that that of a human and a Bonobo Chimpanzee, though having children is not possible for us. 

And then there was that time when a Grizzly bear had broken out of the Lübecker Zoo. People were advised to keep inside while police and hunters went out to look for the dangerous animal, but Traxa immediately joined the search. And indeed, she located the bear, grabbed it by its neck skin and carried it like a naughty puppy back to its place. The bear clawed in the air and roared, but Traxa held it firmly in her grip.
It was quite a sight! The big, heavy bear, small like a guinea pig compared to her, dangling so helpless about 15 feet in the air and totally harmless. Traxa could carry it in one hand without a problem. When she put it on the ground in its cage, the Grizzly turned towards her, roaring and rising a paw as if to attack her. But when my girlfriend stamped her foot on the ground and hissed, the animal retreated quickly in its den.

She was the heroine of the day.

All in all, Traxa is a respected person. Well, most of us respect her, for as successful as she might be in our society, it is not to say that nothing can happen. Let me explain.

About one and a half year ago, we went on vacation, Traxa and I. We went from Lübeck to Copenhagen. By train, because for obvious reasons she cannot travel by car or plane, and walking there is even too far for her. A large ship could be possible as well, but since she has to stay either on the deck or in the freight cabin, she prefers the railroad. Though a train is not ideal either, for she has to stay in a hired cattle transport car, but it can be done with relative little fuss.
Anyway, it was supposed to be a three-day trip. The first two days went by without incident. Yes, there was the usual attention Traxa attracted, but because most comments were in Danish, we didn't understand them and hence, they didn't bother us. Neither did the rainy weather. But on the third day, when we visited the statue of the little mermaid, disaster struck. Traxa wanted a picture of the little mermaid with her kneeling next to it.

As you may know, the bronze statue, the trademark of Copenhagen, is relatively small, about four feet. So you can imagine what it'd look like next to an almost 37 feet tall woman. What you also should know is that there are no fences around it to shield it from tourists or vandals. It is located on the riverside at the Langelinie Promenade, its only protection a number of boulders, making it hard to reach.

For humans.

For Traxa it was no problem, in two steps she was next to it. The picture was made (including a lot from a group of Japanese tourists) and Traxa was about to walk back to me when she slipped over the boulders, which were wet from the rain. She lost her balance and fell backwards.

Right on the statue.

The little mermaid has been molested before, like thrown in the water, head chopped off and spray-painted. But now, it was totally crushed. Even its concrete filling was no match for the mass of Traxa. When she got up, with her back severely hurting, the statue was so mangled, one could hardly recognize it as a mermaid. It looked more like a plaice.

The Danes were not amused, to say the least.

Traxa's suggestion to rename it "the flat mermaid" didn't help to lift the spirits of the Danes either.

And since insurance wouldn't pay for its restoration for some vague reason, Traxa had to pay all by herself for it. Almost a full year, even with her income, went by before the costs of the statue's renovation were fully paid.

And seven months ago, we went on a trip to Italy. Pisa to be precise. I shall not elaborate on the amount of attention she attracted there as well, since you can probably imagine the scores of people surrounding her, wanting pictures with her, that sort of thing. No, what I want to tell you is that there are still a few things about human behavior, specifically the humor, she hasn't fully grasped yet.

You know the joke about tourists taking a picture of themselves holding a finger, hand or foot against the Leaning Tower, right? Traxa wanted such a picture too, but unlike the tourists standing about 300 feet from the tower, she stood next to it, thinking that was the way it should be done. So she placed her hand against the Tower, leaned with her full weight against it and pushed with all of her strength. Well, you may remember the results from newspaper articles.

The Leaning Tower is now called the "Straight Tower".

The mayor ordered us to leave Pisa immediately.

Yes, she is very strong. Even for somebody her size. Traxa developed quite some muscles thanks to her job and her hobby- weightlifting. I'll elaborate on that now, so you can make yourself a better image of her."

Dr. Brücke dropped the letter. This was getting weirder and weirder. Yes, he remembered the newspaper articles about both Copenhagen and Pisa. So this was the giantess who was responsible for it. And now he was learning she was into weightlifting? No doubt she had muscles so vast they could bring down a wall or move a large tower. Shaking his head, the doctor picked up the papers and continued.

"As you may know, the giants go in for many sports, but are not allowed to compete against humans for obvious reasons. Only a few exceptions exist, like diving. They'd beat us in all kinds of other sports, like athletics, from the 100-meter sprint to javelin throwing.

Not to mention boxing or weightlifting.

Well, Traxa likes weightlifting and some bodybuilding herself. It is a marvel to behold, seeing her hoist a dozen tons of metal above her head over and over again.

She uses rusty, worn-out wagons the railway company sends her to be compacted to bench-press. She fills them with large boulders to train her legs. She has constructed a large pulley and uses a coal container filled with rocks tied to it for leg curls. She also jumps rope- using a large chain from a construction crane. She says it keeps her fit and is beneficial for her to do her job better.

I've witnessed some feats of her strength. She can bent a steel bar, six inches thick, in the shape of every letter of the alphabet like a paperclip. And she once won a €1000 by betting she could keep a tractor from riding away for five minutes by holding it- with one hand!

Not that my girlfriend likes to show this off, no, she is very modest. Hence, I still don't know if the claim some of her friends make, that she can squeeze a motorcycle with her left hand together like an empty soda can, is true or not. Traxa doesn't tell me.

As I told you, for one of her kind, Traxa is of average height. Although pleased with it, she has something of a giantess fetish- gigantic in comparison to her that is. She often tells me about her fantasies. I'd like to share them with you.

Traxa likes to imagine that she is no less than six miles tall. Six miles! Can you comprehend that? A six mile woman stomping over the European continent! Cities would be destroyed even before she'd reached them, the tremors of her footfalls would see to that- stronger than the strongest earthquake. Tall buildings like the Eiffel Tower or the TV Tower in Berlin would hardly reach her ankles. She could pull them from the ground and put them easily in her pocket.
Nothing could stop her, nothing hold her. A six mile giantess is able to simply step over whatever obstacles humans would place in her way. Or on it, including the humans themselves. With feet about a mile long she'd be able to squash both humans and giants, either reduced to the size of mites to her, by the thousands.
Traxa, she told me a dozen times, would dig her arm, about a mile long, under a city. If she'd flex then, her bulging bicep would form a new hill, lifting the ground up, including the city on top of it. Buildings then collapsed and rumbled down the slopes as her huge bicep swelled.

But Traxa assures me that is merely one of her gigantic fantasies. She prefers to be no vengeful giantess. She is, after all, a kind person and would be even at such a vast size. Traxa fantasizes about crushing entire cities, yes, but only if vacated and in need of removal. A hurricane or twister around, threatening mankind? Traxa would inhale deeply and suck the deadly air in. Erupting volcanoes? No problem for Traxa, especially if her bladder is full. And since whales are about the size of anchovies to her, she'd throw the stranded ones simply back into the sea. Mountain ranges in your way? Traxa crumbles them between her strong hands.

My girlfriend even thought of a job she'd have at that size. Owner of a windmill park. She'd blow a couple of hours per day at hundreds, maybe thousands of wind turbines, generating enough energy for a small city- including the industry.

However, these are all a mere fantasies, since a being that large could not exist. But she likes to daydream about it.

One of the reasons she came to our lands is  that she prefers small men, as I already wrote. As a woman standing a little shy of 37 feet it is not surprising she favors human men over giants. She looked not only for a job here but also for a human boyfriend.

Although the isle, Brechia, is often visited by -human- tourists, Traxa wanted more than just a vacation-love. Sure, she had had human lovers before she left as I already said. And she has had a giant boyfriend too, though one who suffered from dwarfism (he stood a mere 14 feet. But this was all not satisfying for her. The giant was still too tall for her taste, and most tourists were only interested in having sex. After they left, she didn't hear from them ever again.

Too bad that she accidentally killed the only one that seemed to have feelings for her.

After they had had sex with each other, they fell asleep. On a stone floor, because giants don't use beds or mattresses. The guy nestled himself against her back, which I can personally confirm feels like a soft, warm wall, and dozed off. Traxa fell asleep as well. But after a while she turned in her sleep and crushed the puny body of her love under her sixteen ton mass. It was a sad awakening, to say the least. It is because of this, let's call it "experience" of her, that we always sleep separated when I stay at her place. Luckily for my girlfriend, the laws of her land see such things as an "accident" and she was not prosecuted for it."

Dr. Brücke lowered the papers again. He stared at the far wall of his study, picturing in his mind a 37 -foot behemoth of a woman lying next to an average-sized man. He saw in his thoughts how the sleeping, colossal female slowly turned, her huge body eclipsing the man's frame and finally covering it. A soft, muffled crunch, and the guy was no more. He shook his head, disgusted. An atrocious thought! After another swig of tea, the doctor read the remaining text.

"Now that I have told you everything about my girlfriend, let me come to the question. The problem I have is the following. I really love Traxa, she is beautiful and lovely. But I don't know how we can stay a couple. Sure, we realize that we cannot have children, since that is impossible for a human and giant. But I cannot move in with her, nor she with me. I get sick of the comments every time we walk the streets and dislike the fact she has to pay for her own food- if we can go to a restaurant in the first place. And not to mention that I cannot buy her any clothes, for they are all imported from Brechia or custom-made her and very expensive.
I do love her. And she loves me. But please, can you give me any advice on this relationship?

Yours,

Hermann."


Dr. Brücke's mind was blank for a time. What kind of advise could he give to this young man? Ignoring the other letters, he leaned back and thought for a while. Then he got up and wrote his answer:

"Dear Hermann,

As you hinted more than a few times in your -elaborate- letter, is your relationship with the giantess Traxa taxing for you. You can't go shopping with her without drawing unwanted attention. Holidays might end in disaster. Sex is dangerous and it is unsafe to sleep next to her. While I can understand your love for her, it is nigh-on impossible for a human to have a relationship like that with somebody from the giant race. It honors your girlfriend that she fits into our culture and society with regard to her job, but it should end there.
So my advise is to split up. Tell her, in a respectful way, about the problems you experience with her and make her clear that despite you really love her, some things just aren't meant to be.

Regards, Dr. Brücke"


The -strongly abbreviated- letter and Dr. Brückes answer appeared a few days later in the newspaper.


About a week later, Doctor Brücke was in his study again, rummaging through his letters. He had already forgotten about Hermann and Traxa.

At first, he didn't notice the sudden darkening. Unconsciously, he might have thought it were the clouds blocking the sun. But as a loud crunch was heard, Dr. Brücke sprang up from his chair and turned. He saw a large foot, standing on the remains of the birch tree in front of his window.

A foot clad in metal.

Before the frozen doctor comprehended this image, an equally large hand, clad in a gauntlet, crashed through the window, smashing the glass, and grabbed him.
He was dragged out of the destroyed window and lifted up in the air. Dr. Brücke looked into the face of a young woman. He recognized it immediately. It was Traxa.

She looked at him angrily, tears in her eyes.

"You goddamn bastard," she spat. "You talked my boyfriend into splitting up with me! You have broken my heart! Jerk! With your pseudo-scientific bullshit! He doesn't want to see me again, he said. It was not possible, not meant to be, he said. All because of that dumb answer of you in that newspaper!  You idiot.... Just you wait!"

Traxa dropped him in her other hand, which was bare. Dr. Brücke felt her grip tightening around his torso and belly. It seemed his organs were slowly being pressed to mush. He tried to talk, argue why he gave the answer he had, but couldn't talk. This giantess, this almost 37 feet tall behemoth of a woman, held him so tight he could only croak.

He was brought closer to her face. "Did you see "Star Wars VI, Return of the Jedi" perhaps?" Traxa asked. "Do you remember the scene in which that creature, the Rancor, ate that orc-like guard?"

Dr. Brücke could only nod.
 
"Good," Traxa said, smiling wickedly.

And with a swift motion, she brought Dr. Brücke's head to her mouth and bit it clear off. His neck snapped with a soft crunch as the giantess' teeth, each about as big as a matchbox, guillotined though it. Traxa chewed and swallowed. It tasted like ham. She opened her fist and tore the clothes of the decapitated body. Then she turned it around and bit both legs off. She chewed until bone and flesh were turned into a fine mush.

Another bite. And another. Slowly, she munched the doctor up. Heart and lungs, stomach and liver. It all was grinded into a bloody pulp between her teeth, strong as millstones.

Traxa saved one arm for last. Without using her fingers to push it in, just her tongue, she ate it bit by bit. The hand went in last. Just like in the movie she mentioned.

After having finished the doctor, Traxa patted her tummy. She had never eaten a human before, but it tasted good.

"You should've studied Biology rather than Psychology," she muttered. "Then you'd know not to piss me off. After all, the strong always eat the weak...".

And with that, she left.

THE END