NAKED HOLOCAUST

Introduction:

The road is getting better. We left the horrors of the plains and are beginning to enter a more hilly landscape. As we gain altitude, the air is getting fresher and most importantly cooler. The road is zipping through green meadows now, an don both sides, the forests are getting closer. We are still a sour sight to behold, I’m sure. The caravan stretches behind us, a long snake of exhausted people, covered in mud and dust and rags. I’m holding the mules by my side. They are attached to the pick-up truck we found in the last city, a poor wreck of a car, long abandoned when the petrol ran out. Still it’s a useful find now that it’s has its two- mule power of an engine. At the back I installed the weakest of our group, and most importantly our reserve of water and some supplies (although our leaving the desert should offer us more opportunities for a refill).

Fred and Sylvia are riding the mules. They look lie peons straight out of the Andes, with their capes and woolly hats. We found them a few days ago, famished and exhausted, in a derelict motel by the side of the road. Hopefully, they get their strengths back soon now, and I’ll be able to load again the mules with some of our supplies. Yana is walking next to me. I can’t help glancing at her once in a while. Under the mask of dust and exhaustion, she’s still of a radiant beauty, her perfect Slavic face neatly framed by the long coat of her blond hair. She’s wearing combats and a camouflaged top, over the no longer white shirt she probably had on her when the events started. That makes her strangely fit to lead the march. She’s a tough soldier all right. And we’re at war all right. A war we’re losing slowly but steadily….every now and then she grabs those binoculars of hers and pans the road ahead.

We are following the road North. Not that we have an immediate goal, but we all feel the North is probably the safest place to go for now. Rumours have it that they do not venture in the snowy countries. We’ll see. Every ten minutes, I look back at our caravan, checking the crowd for any weakening members, or any one tempted to take off on his own by a side road with some precious supply. As I look back, I see the stretch of tarmac disappearing in the distance, and remember the ordeals we encountered so far on our journey, in the midst of a crumbling civilisation.

“John.” Yana has stopped walking. She’s holding the binoculars to her eyes. I come closer, and on a gesture of my arm, the people behind us fall silent and stay still. (I do not know how come I lead this motley crew, leadership isn’t supposed to be my thing. But so it goes I guess, a few decisions taken in time of need, a few shouted words, and that’s all it took to find myself appointed to the head of our column) Yana is still panning the horizon. I see her jaw clech nervously., her finger joints  whitening on the instrument. I look around. We had a quiet week, and along with the necessity top drag the vehicles, we have somehow become less fearful of walking in the open. Suddenly I feel terribly exposed. The road is going through a narrow valley, and forests are surrounding us beyond the green pastures. Ahead, the tarmac is zipping through the first hills, disappearing in the first folds. I stare hard at the horizon.

A tap on my shoulder. Yana is giving me the binoculars and points at a V shaped opening in the crest of the hills facing us. “Look” is all she says. I stick my eyes to the instrument. I follow the line of the tree covered hill top, till I get to the breach indicated by Yana. Nothing strange. I pan along. Nope, nothing interesting. A few farms, attached to the hill side, some unidentifiable buildings, the road that winds up the first slopes.  I glance interrogatingly at Yana. “there’s something in front” she answers. I look again. As the breach comes into view again, it’s my turn to freeze. There’s something new. I see a blond coloured dome just in the breach, that wasn’t there before.  It’s immobile and could be a structure of some sort but… It moves away.  I glance at Yana. Then at the forest half a mile away from us.  I gesture to the others to remain silent. In the binocular view I watch again, and at that moment, I see it again, but it has reached over the hill top now. And the next second, I found myself staring into a pair of green eyes. And the next it is a well shaped face that is appearing over the tree line. She’s looking straight at us. I can even witness the change of expression on her exquisite face, as she obviously registers our presence. A joyful and excited expression illuminates her traits now, and her face is reaching higher now, revealing the graceful neck. She’s climbing the far side of the hill, walking straight at us.

“Run! Run for cover!!” I shout at my companions behind me. I quickly put the binoculars around my neck and grabbing Yana by the hand I run back to the mules. We both frantically start detaching the animals from the pick up, while Fred and Sylvia climb down, and start joining the fleeing crowd. Everyone scattered right and left of the road, dropping their possessions on the tarmac. When I look back at the hill top, I no longer need binoculars to see her. Her huge naked body is now clearly visible, as she walks over the hill top, her pale skin nearly shining in the last rays of the descending sun. Her face is radiant with glee, her eyes fixed on us, and a large smile is revealing her white teeth, even though she’s still a few miles from us. She looks young, early twenties maybe. And very happy.

Yana and I got the mules free at last  and start running, dragging the animals behind us. In front of us, our comrades are feeling in total disorder. The forest is not that far. We can make it. As I look behind I see quite a few people are still back on the road, arguing god know what about their luggage, some of them just simply stare ahead at the coming giantess. I give a strong kick to my mule and send running alone. I run back to the road to the group there, that stands immobile, mesmerized by the danger. I wave my arms and shout at them. They start coming in my direction at last.  Then I see them. The Winston. This old couple has been doing the journey with us for a week or two. They are climbing down the embankment of the road, dragging their little grand-child with them. I angle my course toward them. When I reach them, I grab the kid in my arms and goad the old people into motion.

She was a few miles back, yes , but that will not be enough. I glance towards the North and see the beautiful girl there. She’s running too, her blond hair flowing around her face. Her body is taller than the small hill. She runs at us, each of her steps fifty yards at least. The free expression on her facereminds me of a girl joyfully running to jump in the waves in the ocean.  her glorious nakedness is for something for that image i guess. As I push the couple in front of me, I begin to feel the vibrations in the ground.  She’s now in open land, a formidable machine rushing to us. Her giggles of excitement begin to be audible. The forest is getting closer. I look back and see Mac who is hiding behind the pick-up truck his rifle in hand. The fool.

At every step her body is gaining in mass and splendour, her head is already high in the air. I can’t help glancing at the white expanse of her abdomen, her perfect breasts or at the long thighs that propel her in our direction. Dangerous or not, their beauty always had a hypnotic quality, intentional or not. Her feet rush forward, like flying trucks over the green landscape. The ground shakes at her every step now. She’s close to 60-70 meter tall. She’s not fully developed yet. She’s running lightly, scanning the valley with her eyes. Looking at us near the forest, looking at the others running the other way.. She’s deciding which way she’ll go. I decide to go faster.

I leave the old couple behind, accelerating my course as much as possible, my arms still clenched around the screaming kid. All around me other screams are exploding in the once silent valley. But the laughter of the girl is covering all of it. She‘s here now.

She comes to a walking gait. I’d have to crane my neck to see her face now. All I see is her enormous feet flattening the land, and the start of her huge calves. She’s saying something, in the strange and musical language they use. Is she talking to us?  Panting, sweating and in total panic, I do take the time to look back up those huge pillars of flesh that are now crushing the pasture. I see her down-turned face, the falling curtain of her blond hair, and the darting eyes that seem to encompass all of us fleeing people. She walks quietly to a man. He’s till half way to the cover of the trees. The girl’s massive foot is lifting now, debris sand crumbles from the grassy land stuck to her sole. I can’t help watching it as it covers the man in its shadow. I hear him scream louder. With a light giggle, she lets her foot settle over him. He disappears under the rosy flesh, as if he hadn’t been there at all, his scream cut short. The blond giantess walks to a small group closer to me.

I stumble in the grass, dropping the kid. and landing hard on my face. A loud thud, and a huge rosy foot is landing not fifty yards away from me. I’m in the shadow of the vast body. But she seems attracted to three running people on my right. In one step, she’s standing right over them., her legs spread, her hands on her heap. She’s laughing with glee. The group (I recognise Michael among them) has stopped running. They are confused, surrounded by her feet. They look up and scream at her. I feel a weird and brief stupid envy , as they are looking right up along the length of the white thighs at the giant womanhood of the girl. But they do not have much time to enjoy the view. Already she‘s squashing two of them under her right foot. The remaining man squeals and starts back-tracking, running right under the giant arch of the giantess’ legs. She gives a shout of delight, as she start rotating her hips to look back on the tiny fleeing form that just crossed under her legs. She turns round and gently steps on him, her huge weight mixing instantly his body with the compressed ground underneath. I grab the kid again and resume my running. I’m gonna be next, I know that.

The girls is pausing a second to look under her sole. A mixture of green and red substance is stuck to it. She frowns lightly, and then looks for more people. She sees some still on the road. In  two steps she’s all over them. A gun shot. Mac. That makes me glance back again. She’s got him. He’s dangling from her fingers, firing again his useless gun. She kisses him, with lips nearly the size of his body. Her young face is so gentle, her smile so benevolent, it’s hardly conceivable she could harm him. Then she drops him, I hear him scream as he bounces off her left breast to his death at her feet. For good measure, but already looking for others, she steps on his broken body. I keep running.

The giantess has reached the main group that was running to the other forest side.. I hear screams, the ground vibrates violently. The screams are being shut down one by one, a scream, a thud, a scream, a thud, till only the girl’s excited breathing is audible. I’d say 20, 30 screams were killed abruptly at least. A leisurely slaughter. I don’t think any of them made it to cover. That means she’s will come back to our side.

 The enormous feet are indeed getting closer now. To my right, ahead of me, a group is just about to reach the forest. I see them stumbling in the young underbrush that guards the forest for nearly 300 yards. A huge shadow travels upon everyone, like a cloud, and then a vast foot is landing just behind them. Followed by another. I actually stop as I see the giant body collapse towards the ground, as if falling all over the fleeing group. In a second the group is fleeing between the knees of the young woman. Each knee is digging a hole in a ground, as if a building has settled down.. She’s now closer leaning towards them, dominating them with her chest and abdomen, sending her womanhood scent all over them. I angle my run perpendicular to the large thighs ahead of me, but I can also smell the flagrance of the girl. Fuck this, she’s really getting turned on, now as they usually do.
 I instinctively (and stupidly surely) cover the eyes of the kid as I push forward. Behind the girl is now gathering the group, idly catching them one by one and dropping them in a container. (It takes me second to realize this is an old truck with a tarpaulin cover we were dragging with us). Before she does, she brings each one of them to her eyes , scrutinizing them, and  smiling appreciatively, like  a girl collecting sea shells.

When she gets all the people in, she looks up looking for more. Glancing at her, I catch the searing gaze of her green eyes. She starts getting up slowly, and I swear, she’s smiling at me. Her enormous body starts rising. I’m in the underbrush. My lungs are burning like hell; my face is flayed by the bushes. The kid is struggling in my arms. I can see Yana ahead screaming at me from the first trees of the deep forest. I scream and do not sop screaming. Behind me a thud is telling me a foot has landed. Another one, on my left now. The shadow of the giantess is passing over me. I hear the moans and shouts of the men struggling in the truck.  A few meters. Please let me reach this. A scream on my right and I have the fleeting vision of the giant hand grabbing a man that was running alongside me. I hear him falling in the truck. I’m there.

I dive between the trunks; Yana is running ahead of me. A massive hand is following me inside; the trees are cracking as it infiltrates the undergrowth. I hear a tree falling, the branches breaking all over. It lands somewhere close on my left. Another one is falling. The girls hands are reaching out for me deep in the cover, although she probably does not see us anymore under the canopy. On the right again, long fingers are falling from the sky through the foliage near a fleeing figure. I think it’s Doreen. “Get down!!!!” I shout at her.  But the fingers have touched the woman already, sending her to the ground screaming. Over the tree, beyond the heavy foliage I can see the enormous face of the girl peering through. The tip of her long blond hair is caressing the top of the tree, mingling with the green leaves. The fingers close on Doreen, and drag her screaming up the trees, in an unbelievable shaking of trunks, and a shower of leaves. Rosy shafts of light appear through the new-born opening.

Yana is running close to me now. We rush through the tree, oblivious of any pain or fatigue. More cracking, more giggle coming from far above., more trees falling around us. A few screams as the unlucky are spotted. The forest shadows are growing fast now, adding to the chaos of our flight. I see Yana dive into a ditch. It’s a deep cut in the ground. I follow her. I keep my hand over the mouth of the kid, while Yana covers us in ferns. The growing darkness is full of crashing noises and yells. Through the foliage, the massive head of the girl is going to and fro. Some screams tell us when someone is being snatched away, along with a contented humming from the woman.

We stay hidden for about an hour. The loud foraging of the giant hands have stopped abruptly. She must have had her fill of victims. I switch on my zippo lighter. In the ditch, lying against me is Yana’s body, trembling like a leaf. I search a face. I can see she’s in a bad shape. Yet I don’t see any injuries. Then it hits me, after the exertion of the past minutes, Yana is about to go in hypoglycaemic shock. She’ s diabetic. The meds…Without it Yana will die. We left all her shots in the pick up truck.
“You stay here” I tell her.
“”No, don’t be stupid, she’s still out there!” she said alarmed.
“Listen , we need to take the meds before she wrecks the truck. You stay here and mind the kid. I’ll be back soon.. Don’t move , don’t talk”.
She’s about to answer, grabbing my arm, but I free myself, and put a finger on my lips to silence her. I start crawling back up.

After a few minutes of crawling through the ferns and tree trunks, I begin to reach the limit of the forest. The sun is behind the hills already, and a purple colour bathes the West sky. It’s getting dark even in open space now. Good.  And then I see her. She’s sitting on the ground, cross-legged. Even sitting down like this her head towers 20 meters easy off the ground. She’s quite a sight. The rozy light of the sunset is throwing shining reflections on her blond hair. The pale skin on her breasts is now warm looking,, inviting. She’s leaning back, as if to enjoy the last rays, and this exposes the whole length of her upper body to my gaze. The sheer plenitude of her flat abdomen, the perfect orbs of her breasts, the juvenile abandon of her face, all this arrest me for a second. I can’t help feeling a sensation growing at my loins at I consider the beautiful creature. Hell, I have to make an effort and remember I’d luckier meeting a T-Rex than her.

I start crawling towards her, towards the pick-up I can see upside down on the road. She hasn’t trampled it yet. The meds could still be ok. As I get closer the massive body, I desperately wish for a shrinking formula, an invisible shield, anything that could cover my slow motion in the grass. Let’s face it, I’m ready to shit myself. . Suddenly, the girl leans forwards. I hear commotion in the space between her crossed legs. The truck. There are still people in there. I gulp hard. I know what’s gonna come.

The smiling girl looks between her legs and I see her hand reach lower. Many shouts respond. A man is lifted screaming  in the ier, dangling from her fingers. The girl looks really happy, her face is showing joy and lust and contentment. She drags the little body across her left breast, once , twice, and then lifts the man to her face. I ‘m getting closer, and this is all happening way above my head. The young woman throws her hair back with a careless hand and start craning her head back. The man is yelling and pleading, as she places him over her mouth and parts her lips. The screaming lasts for a few seconds as she lowers him into her luscious mouth. She closes her lips and seems to savour the man. I can see the motions of her tongue on her cheeks. From inside a plaintive wail is clearly audible. She swallows her morsel. Live. I see the passing of the man inside her throat, as the young woman makes a few gulping sounds while she ingests this rather too large prey. The lump in her throat descends slowly and disappears. The young woman caresses fleetingly her belly while she looks down into the truck between her legs.

Another man is lifted in the air. I can hear him begging and crying as she slurps on him for a while, using him to caress her breasts and sucking a bit more before the final swallow. But I’m no longer watching. I’m intent on crawling as quietly as possible. My course is bringing me just behind the giantess in order to go around her and reach the” road. My field of vision  is nothing more than the wall of flesh of her monumental behind and the grass I push aside to reach it. A few meters ahead of me, the screams have redoubled from the container where the woman keeps her dinner. She reaches for another one, literally purring with glee.

I’m close to her now, as I pass by the cliff of her back,  her scent all over my nostrils, the heat from her body hitting me like an open oven. High above me, I see the bottom of the river of blond hair that hangs high on her shoulders. I could touch her now, and for a second I am really tempted to so. I want to feel this incredibly wall next to me. I want her to grab me and let me feel her, let me be privy to her most intimate niches. I want to… I shake my head. Too many hormones in the hair. I feel the boner I drag since I started the crawl dig into the grass. Come on, man , concentrate. Beside, if this beautiful doll moves a single muscle, she’ll bury me under the zillion tons of her ass. See if that would be fun… I clear my head and resume my crawling. I’m invisible to her at last, but yea, if she moves…  I see the truck just a few meters away, on the tarmac.  Suddenly, I freeze; the vast body above me is still, but a definite noise just caught y attention. Someone is calling. I look around , trying to locate the muffled voice. This idiot is going to make us dead if she notices him. The voice… is coming from above.  I feel a cold sweat running down my spine. Someone is calling for help. Above, within the giantess back. Inside her. Oh my God. They are alive in there. I contemplate the vast cliff of the slender back, and sure, that’s where the voice is coming from. Her victims. En route for digestion, but still kicking in there. I feel dizzy. Another scream is echoing loud in the air. Other slurping noises. “Here is company, guys”  I think bleakly and carry on my crawling.

I was lucky. She got way too interested in her little treats to look at the road in her back. I crawled in the pick up truck and found the shots were they were supposed to be, in the glove compartment. As I come out, as silently as possible, in the shadow of the vast body, I spot a few dark patches on the road. I nearly retch what was left of m bile. This greasy spots and trails are what’s left of the guys she trampled so joyfully a few minutes ago.  The old couple, Mac and tens of others are all around me sprayed on the road, or compressed in the footprints of the girl. She slaughtered us merrily and without mercy. The obvious delight with which they annihilate us is one of the most sickening aspects of the events. A deep hatred runs its course through my veins, but I don’t let it go to my head. I can see the gun Mac used earlier. But I know too well that even at point blank it would never harm her.

I’m just about to start crawling back to the forest, when the girl shifts her position. She‘s turned nearly in my direction, uncrossing her legs and spreading them apart. Propping herself up on one hand , she reaches inside the vertical truck where she keeps the last prisoners. Her green eyes are glassy now and even in the penumbra, I can see the little spark that lit them. Her body is slightly distended, and to my horror, I can see movements under the skin of her abdomen. I crouch near the end of the pick-up, ready to make a dash for it at the first opportunity. I see her hand reaching inside the up-turned truck. A woman (my God, it’s Sylvia, the girl we picked up in the last town.) is dragged out of the back of the vehicle. The playful look on the girl’s face is quite clear. She bring the woman to her mouth, high above me. The cries stop for a second, while she sucks on her victim. When she opens her mouth a trail of saliva stick to Sylvia’s’ body before retracting on the extended tongue. She brings a yelling Sylvia to the damp slit between her legs. I can see the clitoris, burgeoning already, and soon, Sylvia is brushed slowly over it. Above the woman’s face is a mask of rapture. Her loud breathing is throwing gust of warm air in my direction.. Again and again, she presses the small woman on her clitoris, sometimes bringing her up again  to her breasts, and then down again. Sylvia is just whimpering now. After a few moments, during which I cannot find the courage to move away, the giantess, an ecstatic smile on her face, sits a glistening Sylvia across her left nipple.

Her hand extracts another person. A man this time. Without ceremony she presses him immediately onto her now drenched cleft. The labia are engorged and bigger than his body now, and his yells are muffled immediately when his face is used to caress the humid flesh. The girl holds him carefully between thumb and forefinger, and his little feet can be seen trashing violently even though he can no longer utter a sound. This seem more and more pleasant to  the gigantesque  girl and moans begin to echo through  the valley. Beads of sweat catches the last rays of sun.  I feel my boner coming back in spite of the horror of the situation. The air is heavy with sexual scent. Not far from me a colossal foot is agitated by tremors and huge toes wriggle spasmodically.

A very high shriek brings my gaze back to the nether regions of the giantess. She’s gently aligning. the man with what is now a dark gaping cavern, with glistening  vibrating walls. I see him putting his hands on both sides of the opening but it is to avail as the fingers gently insert his head deep into the cleft. They then push the legs in, before finally pushing on the sole of the tiny feet to insert them whole into the moist vagina. The girls is moaning and breathing harder now. And her fingers are deeper into herself. Obviously she has no intention to release her little captive. Instead she drags another screaming guy out of the truck, presses him hard against a clit. He did not even have time to protest in anyway. High above, I can hear some whimpering from Sylvia, who is massaged slowly onto the erect nipple of her torturer. I’ve enough of this. I start crawling back to the forest. I need to bring these shots to Yana. My path will make me pass straight by the giantess foot, but it is the shortest way.

I am getting closer to the big statuesque foot that towers over me. In the distance, along the giant triangle formed by the long legs, I see the man in the vagina trying to escape the wet inferno. He brings his chest out , and pushes on his arms.hardly finding purchase on the wet glistening folds. Whitish rivulets flow around his body. I can hear him grunting and whimpering. With a slurping sound, the wet cavern drags him inside again. The girl is close to orgasm now, and she now brings the second man into her vagina. His legs trash a bit as he’s being inserted and probably forced to crush the other occupant. Her two hands now resting against her sex, the woman collapses backwards in the grass, making the ground shake under the horrendous falling weight. Her hips are now rising high in the hair, agitated by a regular spasm, before coming down again, crushing the truck and its last prisoners. The hips rise again.

Obscurity is near total now, and only the full rising moon lets me see the glistening giant body convulsing near me, like a frenzied building. This is my chance to get up at last. I jump to my feet, go around the wriggling toes of the shouting woman, and run for my life towards the dark forest, un-heedful of the bushes, the noise, the branches, the giant noises behind me. Just as I reach the trees , a deafening shout throws me on the ground, covering my ears.  In the moonlight, the giant body, beautiful in its perfect reclining length, is no longer agitated. The enormous mass is resting quietly on the grass, covering nearly the whole meadow. Only the gentle breathing lets you know this gigantic mass is alive and not another hill in the landscape. The skin appears incredibly smooth and soft under the bluish moonlight, the sweat on it reflecting the moon rays. I see the gentle profile of the woman as she closes her eyes, her  throat extended,   her mouth slightly opened,  and her wrist resting on her brow.  The long blond head is spread all accross the grass, like a golden circus tent, giving the girls' head a pure aureola, not unlike a Russian icon. A vision of bliss and erotic satisfaction. But then I hear a grumble from the distant stomach…

I reach Yana a few minutes later, guided towards her by her urgent whispers. A few people have gathered in the ditch. They stare at me in the Zippo light, expectant and sniffing. They are all haggard looking, in shock. We need to do something fast.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.” I say, as I put my arms around Yana’s shoulders.

…………..

As we walk into the night, scratching ourselves against the branches, stumbling and getting up, I reminisce the weird moments I have experienced tonight. I knew they’re known to do that. I heard the news, saw some images. But so far I had witnessed the savagery of their killing, not the ecstasy of their giant bodies. I had seen the horrors they perpetrated in our cities. This one to one meeting , out there in the wild is mind-boggling. Is that what we are now? Preys, and food and living dildos for them? What sense does it make? What do they want from us?

We walk into the night. I hold Yana near me, the kid is asleep on my shoulders. Everyone is silent, in shock. We have no water , nor food again. To occupy my mind I start remembering the start of the events.
It was a Friday. I heard that trembling voice on the TV. And then, the first images…. I was….

Tbc

nostromo

Amanda Singles, 24, yoga teacher, was the first one. She fell unconscious on the floor of the shopping mall on the 25th May, at 15.45. This was not much of a commotion. Yet another victim of the shopping frenzy. It did become more of en event when her clothing started to crack, a few minutes later, as she was installed by some helpful hands on the sofa of a coffee shop nearby. (She still hadn’t regained consciousness when they moved her.) When her body started to spill out of the sofa, her clothing in tatters hanging from her hips and shoulders, it became quite clear something unusual was taking place. Worried mothers covered the eyes of their children and the Security staff of the mall called the police.

By the time the police arrived, the event was already being aired by a small local radio station. When the officers reached the woman, half the mall was already occupied by the huge body. The facades of a few shops had exploded under the pressure of the vast feet pressing against them; a few metallic pillars were under strain as well as a massive arm was trying to find some expansion room. It became quickly apparent that the pillars , which were supporting the structure of the roof , would soon cease to do so.

 An hour later, while the naked body was pushing and compressing everything in its vicinity, the ceiling gave way, crashing onto the sleeping woman. That did not perturb her sleep. And for all eye-witness accounts, it did not seem to hurt her in the slightest. As her feet started to crash in a nearby building, while her head blocked all traffic on Main avenue, the event was already international news. Mankind was faced with its first recorded giantess.

I was having a break in the canteen of our quiet office when the excited voice of the newsman pronounced the fatidic words on the small TV set hanging from the far corner. A human being had been spotted in my own town, growing to an enormous size through walls and buildings, crushing all structures under her formidable weight. She was close to 300 feet long. (He used that term, instead of tall, as the giantess, Amanda Singles, was lying on top of the city center like a giant beached whale). The woman was said to be alive and breathing, but totally unconscious.
In the canteen, we looked at each other. This was  a bit much. Last I check April’s fool was long past. But then came the first footage. A shaky hand held camera was panning the incredible mass of the body, while the reporter was walking along the wall of flesh, in a chaos of debris. We all peered closer to the screen. Was this a new blockbuster movie? I could not spot any stars. Just as the footage was released, we all heard the din of many firemen wagons rushing to the city ( our office was slightly off center).

Vaguely chuckling, but looking uneasily to my co-workers for proof this was  a prank, I still went to the window and stretching out, I stared in the direction of the city center. I could not see much, but there definitely was a huge cloud of dust hanging over it, and not the usual mist of pollution. And then I spotted it in the far distance. A rosy structure was there, that should not have been there, an apparition between the base of our usual skyscrapers. I stared in disbelief. It was a foot. A huge foot in the distance, stuck somehow between two tall buildings, like the inflated rosy canopy of some circus tent. Below me, a flow of people in the streets were walking towards the center, in small excited group. I was about to call Michelle, my secretary and ask her to come and confirm the sight I was witnessing, when a loud grumble started  afar. I saw the skyscraper close to the foot sway right and left. Shouts and cries echoed in the distance. With a slow majestic motion the entire building started to collapse, in a vertiginous fall, while a cloud of smoke rose on the site. Something seemed to have crashed the base of the building and send it toppling down like a house card. I would find soon enough that the second foot of the giantess was indeed embedded in the lower floors and had brought about the destruction.

Stunned, I came back inside, looked at my colleagues and said :“Guys, I think we’re taking the afternoon off”.

The collapse of the building has not created any casualties. Evacuation of the entire district had been on-going   from the moment it had become clear the gigantic body was about to spill into the nearby streets. Still two people found their death in the event and the fact was horribly advertised by all channels. I remember when we saw for the first time on the TV the ugly scene of this man slowly engulfed by the huge buttock expanding on him. He had been caught somehow trying to salvage something too close to the body and a sudden spurt of growth had tumbled him down and overrun him. His pitiful cries as the firemen desperately pulled at him from under the threatening fleshy wall had been a trauma to many viewers.  A security staff member of the shopping mall had also been victim of the incredible expansion, when he found himself cornered by the advance of a massive thigh against an unyielding wall.

We all went to the city, attracted by the event like moths to a light. Everyone walking along with us was just incredibly excited. It was as if Magic had suddenly entered our dull universe, as if legends were about to come true. The walls of science and reason had been shattered as easily as the toppling skyscraper. As we got closer, the dust started to enter our noses and we had to use handkerchiefs. Coming from the opposite directions, frightened people, covered  in the white dust were stumbling away from the scene, looking at us with angry eyes.

We weren’t allowed close to the crime scene obviously, battalions of police cars and army folks were already cordoning the place. But even from the distance, I will remember for ever my first glimpse at her face.
She looked like a giant sleeping beauty out of a fairy tale. The vast curtain of her blond hair was spilling over the streets like a golden flood. Her face was high in the air, exhibiting a perfect profile.  I could see her chest heaving up and down, a tremendous and yet silent breathing that animated her perfect mountainous breasts with a gentle rhythm. I must say, that past the initial shock of the enormous size of the body lying on top of our town, the second thought was somewhat a mix of fear and wonderment at the beauty of the amplified Amanda Singles ( who had become the most famous human being on the planet in a matter of hours). Many a guy I’m sure found in the contemplation of her huge naked body a source of rather un-religious feelings. Walking on her face , a man in a white suit was leaning forward on her lower lip, apparently introducing some sort of pipe in the giant mouth. I was dying to walk up there and touch the rosy humongous lips myself.

Like many, I stayed in the vicinity till late in the night. The girl had stopped her expansion, but there was no sign that Amanda Singles was ever going to come to. Around her much activity was taking place, police army, scientists, news people, all were there, busy with their own tasks. The spotlights installed by the firemen had turned the giant body in some unreal funfair of sounds and lights. Vast tarpaulins had been brought upon the body, covering at least the parts that required some decency. That night, Gulliver’s’ travels were on everyone’s mind, and maybe because of this, no action was taken to actually try and shackle the huge woman under a network of chains and other cable. On the TV, on the radios, everywhere, commentators were bringing their arguments as to the significance of this unbelievable occurrence.

I went back home at last , my mind full of the incredible sight, my heart still racing from excitement. After all this was taking place here, in my hometown, and I was there to see it. The destruction had not been so bad, and only the fairy tale feeling seemed to linger.  I guess I was feeling also,  like everyone in the world, that a strange era was opening in human history. But apart from some really insightful or pessimistic people, (some of them fearing she may expand to infinity) no one ever saw the Event for what is was: the beginning of the end.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It’s quite incredible how we come to accept the impossible.  After a week in the shadow of the giantess, life started to go back to normal in our community. Giving up on the daily visit to the giant woman, I opened  the office again, and occasionally leaned out of the window to get a glimpse of her enormous shape. She was still asleep, her face quiet and immobile (although REM movements were clearly visible under her eyelids). Scientists from all over the planets were discussing the case. Was she dying? Would she ever awake? It had been proved that every part of her body had expanded harmoniously. Her brains were now the single most powerful thinking organ on the planet. Whatever happened to the real Amanda Singles?

Incredible tales were spinned about the actual phenomenon, the favourite explanations revolving around Aliens, a lot about new Eve and God’s will, some others about a freak accident at the quantum level of matter. The sudden growth of mass did not seem to have required any original energy. No strange entropic motion was detected at the same time on the planet. Yet this intrusion of matter required a source, and research was just beginning to investigate that source.
Disruption in traffic, touristy opportunities , news, our little world had suddenly found a new toy to play with and a new challenge to tackle.

A week later three young women collapsed on the floor in their respective towns and countries.

The young Japanese actress that went unconscious in the center of Hiroshima expanded so fast , hundreds of people fell victim to a crushing death under her pale skin. Her size reached the 650 feet mark in less than twenty minutes. Many pictures showed her long black hair strewn with human bodies. (This type of phenomenon would be labelled later “ explosive birth”)
In Paris, a young Dutch tourist fell on to the floor of the Louvres museum, crushed four people under her expanding body and destroyed the entire building. At 700 feet tall, she was a colossal sight among the old  French districts. I still remember the famous pic showing tourists staring at the huge hand resting on an old building, like a gigantic sculpture.
A tiny village in Zimbabwe disappeared under the body of a young woman, who, at more than 500 feet, became a sudden dark hill in the flat landscape.

The news hit the networks and the world realised this was indeed something serious. A strange unease started to spread . Was it an epidemic? What strange lottery was at play here? The four giants had in common to be young and female. Nothing more united them. Their sizes seemed to vary. All of them were unconscious. The world gazed worryingly at this new species. Armies went on alert. No one expected hostilities, but the Hiroshima disaster pointed out toward some serious precautions. All towns in the world started to think about evacuation techniques.

I was reading about all the theories  and watching the pictures of the munificent shapes of the sleeping giantesses (we had been disappointed top see our  local giantess was pretty small after all) with a colleague of mine, in my usual coffee  shop, when I saw a man rushing from the kitchen into the main room. He was white. “600!!” he shouted, “600!!” All customers looked at him in shock. “Not another one, please!” “ 600 feet again”, oh man!” I walked to the cook, who looked visibly shaken and  showed him a seat. “Sit down, man, it’s all right. Where about?”

“You don’ understand! There are 600 of them now!!”

For the first time, the cold fear settled in my stomach. And the world simply did not sleep that night. 600 cities ploughed under the weight of 600 giantesses. All young, all female. This was an epidemic.
A few hours later, all female citizens under the ages of 35 were kindly asked to leave the urban centers, as a measure of precaution.

The Explosion had started, all over the world, at increased rate. Within a month 7 000  human beings had evolved in this new life form, causing massive destruction.

Then came the Day of  the Awakening...

tbc

nostromo

NAKED HOLOCAUST III

I blame my dick. I was present when Amanda opened her eyes, on that fateful morning of September 23rd.. It was a warm day in the making, the last two weeks having been unusually hot for the season and  the temperature was already very pleasant. That’s my official explanation of why I was there on that terrace, enjoying an early coffee and croissant. The other reason I give was my being prone to insomnia, and in fairness I’d been up three hours before, desperately waiting for the trendy coffee-shop terrace to open). This particular place had been pretty popular of late. Slightly above the sleeping giantess, you could enjoy a sweeping view of the enormous lying body. Amanda was a looker, no doubt about it, and even with the tarpaulins covering her in parts, the view was simply staggering and I, like many guys, could not get enough of the sightseeing. The amplified female form was both totally humbling. in its dormant  power, and totally …fascinating in its overwhelming nakedness. The first rays of  the rising sun was colouring the blond river of her hair in rosy tones, and the vast expanse of her belly looked warm and tanned under the razing light. Like I said, coffee was just accessory.

Obviously this sight was by then no longer a privilege of our little town. All around the world similar and at times much vaster human landscapes had peppered the surface of the planet. Wherever you were, you weren’t far from one of them. The impact of their arrival was just beginning to register on the fabric of our world. The displacement of a large part of the population (young and female) towards the countryside, the constant presence of the military, the vast re-construction effort and organisation surrounding the damaged communities all over the world were the first sign that a struggle was starting between us and , well, them. But what really came to the surface is the general sense of unease and fear that took mankind in its fold. The absurdity of the situation, the incommensurable forces at play in our world, the total mystery we lived in, all contributed to this pre-war feeling we all experienced.
The threat was all the more frightening, that it lay there right in front of us, dormant, peaceful, and yet incredibly powerful. The “births” had stopped for a month already and we were able to bathe in the unease now, after the onslaught of the panic had subsided (quite a few cases were recorded of lynching  of women who had ventured in unfriendly communities). A sign of this malaise, would be seen among couples: falling asleep near your loved one, you could not escape the thought that she could potentially start growing during the night. What if you were caught off guard? Marital beds suddenly emptied all over the world.
The presence of the giant bodies all around the world was so palpable, we all felt their weight was already on our shoulders, so to speak. That’s probably why, when Amanda woke up, there was in the air a feeling of relief: the wait was over. We were about to know.

It is James who saw her first. A good colleague and friend , we often came together to gaze at the sleeping beauty, speculating together over the meaning of her presence, or commenting more mundane matters. I remember seeing him looking being my back with a fixed stare. Then his hand started to shake, spilling coffee on his morning shirt.
“You OK, James?”
“Don’t look now, he said, but I think she’s looking at us” he said .
I chuckled to that. He must have spotted a girl we knew. “Who is it?” I said with a wink.
“Amanda Singles” He put a shaking coffee mug on the table.

I turned round and looked into the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen. And they were looking indeed straight at us. I jumped on my feet and ran to the  handrail that safe-guarded our rooftop. The first shouts started to rise in the city.
Amanda Singles was awake, hey eyes were scanning the building in front of her. She did not move a muscle and no expression came over her face. She was obviously just awakening, maybe not registering the landscape around her. In the rosy morning light, the exposed contours of her face seemed to shine with a silver lining.

“OOOOOhhhh” came the collective murmur when her face turned upward, and the eyes seemed to blink for the first time. To watch Amanda sleep was something quite breathtaking, to see the sudden motion of the enormous face was quite a shock. I was nearly used to the idea she was some sort of static prop in our city.
But when her arm moved, detaching itself from the rubble it had created a few months ago, and rising high  into the air like a giant crane, bringing her hand to rest on her brow, pushing aside tons of shiny blond hair, well, I guess then the full awareness of her living breathing presence suddenly hit all of us with  a feeling of absolute awe and the first stirrings of uncontrollable fear.

She remained for a few more minutes without moving, her folded arm resting on her brow, as she seemed to blink and consider the sky and gaze at the passing clouds. Down below, in her vicinity, the first movements were visible. Officers were shouting orders, firemen were running to their stations, mixed currents formed among the early passers-by, some running away, other timidly approaching. Red and blue lights started to flash in the shadows of the nearby streets.  I observed all this, transfixed, my mind in a turmoil, not knowing whether to applaud or to run. I was ware this was a turning point , a momentous event I was witnessing,  and a strong and nearly childish excitement was gaining me. This was Christmas, Halloween and the King Arthur legends all in one wrap. Magic was there.

James stepped backwards with me and the rest of the crowd when the giant chest started to rise. Amanda had propped her elbows on the rubble below, and cracking, breaking, and splintering noises accompanied the slow ascension of the majestic head in the glorious morning light, along with shouts from the crowd below. When she fully sat on the destroyed shopping mall, her arms around her raised knees, her head was already just below the level of our terrace. She remained there, coolly looking around here, as if shaking the remains of her dreams.
The tarpaulin that was covering her breasts slid down in a crumpled heap in her lap. A man standing next to me even let out a wolf-whistle.
We stared at her renewed stature, just sitting, she was dwarfing even more the little guys surrounding her at floor level, tiny dolls around her naked legs and bottom.
“Amanda!! Look here!! Hey!!” my heart jumped. This was James. He was laughing  and waving at her, leaning on the handrail.
“Stop it you idiot” I said, slapping him on the head. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“hey man, come on, have you ever seen anything more beautiful? I can die a happy man.” He was like a kid at the fun fair. I confess I shared the feeling, but with something else at the pit of my stomach.

She did not move for about two hours, simply staring leisurely at the urban landscape around her. She sometimes seemed to look at the men around her, but her face was a mask of serenity and calm, as if all of this was just perfectly acceptable to her. She did not try to touch anything…or anyone.

After a while the traffic in the streets around were chaotic, many newscars, police cars and army vehicles, pushing they way slowly through the congested streets. Half the town had awoken to the news and was converging towards the mall and its unique attraction.

It had been expressed many times that Amanda Singles, as well as the other women affected by the phenomenon, had little chance of survival. How the huge body seemed to remain intact in spite of total lack of food and water supply, and the simple work of gravity, was already a miracle. Also, it had been pointed out that if a consciousness had survived the initial growth, it would be now totally diluted in the enormous proportions of the brain, and that all the neural connections that make up one’s personality, were probably lost in the event. Amanda Single was probably long gone.
The being in front of us did not seem stupid at all. Her eyes weren’t vaguely roaming around, no drool was showing on the luscious lips. No incoherent sounds were coming from the vast throat. We were looking at a young woman peacefully enjoying the first hours of the morning, with a calm and composed face. Only her lack of interest for the chaos under her seemed to point towards something… odd. As for me, well, I was in love.

The two men that came close to her from her right were walking cautiously. Out of fear possibly, but also because they were encumbered with portable loud-speakers, some sort of camera and other paraphernalia. I recognised one of them. Frank Dooley. The man had become famous at the same time as his girlfriend. The other man was some army officer apparently. I ordered another coffee to a grumbling waiter and observed what would be known as the First Contact.

“Amanda! Amanda Singles!! Can you hear me?” came the amplified metallic voice. The two men stood a few meters off the young woman right thigh.
I expected no reaction, personally. I thought she’d would just ignore those gnats and keep looking around. But no, she immediately lowered her gaze to the odd couple.
“Amanda! Can you hear me? ….. This is Frank….. Your boy-friend…. Frank Dooley….. Amanda…. Do you understand me?”
The crowd let out a murmur when the blond giantess lowered her thighs, and leaned towards the two men, her right hand pushing back her hair behind her ear.  She did not seemed shocked or surprised, just…interested., a slight frown marring her forehead.
“Amanda, speak to me please. Do you recognise me? If you cannot speak, just give us a nod of your head. Do you understand me?”
Amanda looked at them fixedly, she seemed to be trying to remember something about the two men. The frown disappeared, and the faintest of smile came upon her lips.
“Amanda. You need to give us a sign that you understand me. We are here to help you. There is no need to be scared. (I chuckled at that). Amanda?”
She picked him up. Frank Dooley. The other guy was yanked up , as he was connected to him by some wire of sort, but it snapped as Frank was lifted in the air. I gulped hard.
 She had not lowered her hand gently to let him climb on it. She had picked him up as you would a  doll. One second he was talking to her, the next he was a few floors up in the air, just in front of her smiling face. Two huge fingers were pressing on each side of his body. The crowd let out a collective shout. Down below, rifles were lifted, guns let out of their holsters.
Like many millions of people I watched as she just stared at him, manipulating him, leaving his head up, then having him upside down  and  prodding gently with a perfect and huge finger nail.
He had indeed captured her attention.  After some fingering, she just looked at him intently. We could all hear the whimper of the man , and see his efforts to disengage the terrible grip of her fingers.

And she spoke to him. Her voice came out suddenly, exploding in loud liquid vowels, making our hearts and guts vibrate. It was a beautiful sound, beautiful words, and reminded me immediately of the Elvic language of the Trilogy.  What she said, no one understood. It sounded like a question. The man answered with some less than coherent phrases, frenetically repeating her name and his name every ten second. Everyone I think shared the same huge feeling of relief when the wondrous sonorous voice resonated in the air. Language is intelligence. This was no beast, no brain-dead freak of nature. This was an intelligent being speaking to another.  And the First Contact had been made. And there were many questions to answer.

Frank Dooley started to introduced himself again, with simple gestures. It was obvious to anyone now, that this was not Amanda Singles any longer, but something entirely different. Introductions seemed in order all right. On listening to his answer, the giantess let out a giggle. It was an amazing sound, like a variety of high-pitch bells, resonating in  the morning, with a deep bass underlay coming no doubt from the deep regions within the huge body.
She started to speak to the little man in her fingers, holding a nearly two minutes speech, stopping at times to look at him with big smile on her radiant face. All over the world computers started their analysis. And then she did the oddest thing.

Lifting the man higher than herself, she craned her head back, and lowered him slowly in her wide open mouth .I don’t think he really had time to realize what was up, before he was well inside the rosy cavern. I stared in shock as I watched the struggling figure disappear in the gaping mouth. I just wouldn’t believe it. As she brought her face forward, I could well see some motion inside her motion. The faintest cries were even audible. The crowds around, the police down there, no one, absolutely no one uttered a sound, everyone locked in his private shock. It was as if, by saying nothing, by not moving a muscle, we would see her take the little guy out of her giant mouth, we would erase this strange scene.
No wonder then that the gulping sound she made, when she swallowed him alive came out as perfectly clear to everyone. Only then did the screaming start.

I did not scream, as far as I recollect. James and I just glanced at one another and stared back to the giant body, to a certain point  just below the left breast where Frank Dooley was most certainly alive and  about to be the first man to be digested so by a woman. Amanda stretched her arms above her head like a gymnast warming-up, purring with satisfaction. She looked down and spotted the second guys, in full retreat, and, still stretching her arms, she brought an enormous foot above the fleeing figure. We watch in horror as the foot’s shadow covered the screaming man just before it  landed on top of him. Amanda turned her head and looked straight at us on the roof top, while absent-mindedly crushing the man under her foot. A happy smile floated on her luscious lips. A volley of gunfire exploded from everywhere around.

As she slowly rose to her feet, the impossible mass of her body began to dwarf the entire district. The vast head passed first in front of our eyes, the perfect nose, the warm lips like a giant moving billboard. As her head and shoulders took off in the air above, two monstrous breasts nearly brushed against our terrace, each one the size of a truck. I gripped the rail , craning my head, as the vast expanse of her flat belly passed in front of my  eyes, a quickly moving wall of smoothed flesh. By the time she was fully up and standing, the blond tufts of her bush were just level with our little terrace, her vast hips drowning us in its imposing shadow.  It is then that I decided to start retreating away from the edge of terrace. Far, far above me, within the confine of the great body, a muffled shriek could be heard. I looked up to see, beyond the twin masses of the heavy breasts, the down-turned face of  a hungry girl looking for her breakfast.

tbc

nostromo

Naked Holocaust Part IV

“Run!! Get inside!! “, someone shouts
Not a bad idea, I think. I do just that.

The shadow of the giggling girl is enveloping our little crowd, as we attempt to push through. An enormous finger appears to my right, and pushes me aside, with the force of a moving car, sending me flying to the floor. I just have time to see another one coming forward as it grabs the guy just next to me. I see his face turn in to a mask of terror as the huge tree-like fingers surround his body, And I can almost hear the silent “No. Not me.” expressed in his dismayed eyes. His eyes that are looking at me as he reaches out to me with his hand. In a second his scream is coming from far above. I scramble to my feet, push against the people’s back, press towards the door. Looking back, I see the man high in the air, coming closer to the huge face of the young woman. She looks at him attentively for two seconds. Her green eyes look happy to meet him. There’s definitely a spark in them. Then she sets him onto her outstretched tongue. I have a glimpse of two arms appearing over the side of the tongue, as the victim attempts to throw himself over side. But too late. His screams are suddenly muffled by the closing lips. I am at the door, pressed on all sides by other bodies, when I hear the uncanny  swallowing sound.

The room is a mess of toppled chairs and table and the floor is slick with ketchup and God knows what. I’m running towards the stairs, when the vast fingers crash into the glass façade of the little shop, in a crystalline explosion. Outside, the enormous face of Amanda Singles is covering the whole view, as she leans forwards to see inside the shop, plunging the place in near obscurity.

Yet another scream. I feel grabbed. My heart goes to my throat. “Not me” I think, right on cue. The man grabbing me is terrorized. I feel an incredible pull, and see the two fingers that caught his legs. He is dragged outside. And his fingers are sunk into my leg. I fall to the ground , among the glass shards, and toppled chairs, and both of us are being dragged towards the terrace. All I can see outside are enormous lips, on which runs the humongous tongue. No. I grab a small cement pillar. The man screams as his fingers let go of me. I see his body disappear in the air, out of my view, as the giant face lifts up, replaced by the smooth flesh of her stomach and light comes back into the room. More screaming ensues. I’m rushing down the stairs, among the echoing shouts of the fleeing customers
My mind is in serious panic mode. I just want to get out of here. I can’t believe what has happened over the last three minutes. I jump the steps as fast as I can, following the many rushing backs in front of me. Everyone is shouting. Floor after floor we go down, till at last we get to the exit.

There are conflicting interests at play here. Some people are desperately trying to exit the building. We can feel the walls shaking, as if some wild assault was taking place in the upper floors. Some others desperately want to come in, probably somewhat unnerved by the spectacle outside I guess.

I’m all for staying indoors; I sure don’t fancy coming to a close call again. Of course, in the general flow of the customers, pressed on all sides, I find myself standing in broad daylight, in front of the building. People are running everywhere. All the folks attracted by the awakening two hours ago are now far less interested in staying around. Somewhere on my left, gunfire is nearly continuous, like a loud waterfall. I turn round and look at the giant feet planted on the driveway of the building. My eyes follow the impossibly high curves of the calves, the immensity of the thighs till they reach the huge womanhood in the shadow of the thighs. High above, the naked hips are already deformed by perspective. Higher still, the vast body is well erect, looking all the more impressive that I see it for the first time from ground level. Hell, I couldn’t even reach her ankle if I tried. I watch as the young woman is introducing yet another squirming victim to her inner being.

She does not seem to be affected in any way by the myriads of policemen and soldiers who have been busy shooting at her for the past 15 minutes. I can’t even see the impacts on her skin. Hell, she could at least show some reddening, but no, not a mark Bullets must either disappear in her vicinity or re-bound on her like oil on a Teflon dish. No effect whatsoever. I start running to get to the other side of the street, as she seems busy with catching people close to the coffee shop building. Every time she bends down, her groping fingers flying past me. I feel sick with fear, before the sad pang of relief strikes again when I hear someone else’s wail.. I jump into a little alley between tow tall buildings. Any life form with an ounce of survival instinct would have been half a mile away by now. Not me. I have to see this.

The giant body seems to be covering all the surroundings, as she stands in the middle of the  cross-roads. She does not seem to be aware of the gunfire, as she crouches down, and snatches a running figure off the ground, and brings it to her mouth.

She absentmindedly steps on a parked car. I hear the metal go crunch, while shards of glass fly explosively in all directions, quickly followed by the instantaneous explosion of the tyres. The mass of the girl is such, her foot actually touches the ground. The car is flattened to pancake proportion. She stops and looks down at the metallic remains. As she crouches down to inspect it, her huge bottom is hovering a mere meters from me. I could touch the vast orb of flesh near me, and I must confess the thought actually crossed my mind. The flagrance of her skin is washing over me. A man is running across the street,  a minuscule figure crawling at a snail pace in front of the massive feet. The girl is looking down and her gaze goes from the flat car to the fugitive. She stands again, developing her huge frame (I see her well toned thigh muscles bulge ever so slightly) and makes a step forward. The giant toes catch the running figure and send sprawling across the tarmac. Her big toe is hovering over the prone form. I look up and see the amused smile of the young woman. She really seems to enjoy this. She slowly starts pressing her toe on top of the man, who is now crawling desperately in the deep shadow. I hear his scream turning into a quick gurgle, and in a  split second later the toe flesh is pressing hard on the ground. The man himself is no longer visible (except in the slick presence of projected fluids and guts). An unreal giggle resonates in the awakening city. With a pout on her face,Amanda Singles takes a moment to smear the reamains on the alsphat, all across a zebra passage.  Then, apparently satisfied with the result, she directs her attention down the street, where dozens of people are now running between the abandoned cars.

Walking slowly, nearly carefully, she applies her feet excatly on the frozen lane of cars, squashing all them in a screeching din of crushed metal. People are stuck between all the opened doors , and try to jump over trunks, only to disappear under the enormous landing feet. When the giantess has reached the end of the avenue (still looking very very large) she turns round and makes another pass. Any of the stragglers and injured are [i]methodically[/i] targeted by her naked feet. Two men are caught by the huge toes, gently herded aside by the round mounds of flesh and slowly ground against the base of a building, leaving a gruesome red graffiti. A cop is standing between her feet, shooting at her crotch (does he think this her weak spot?). She laughs gaily and starts crouching down. The officer is seeing the error of his ways, i think, and is already running, but the giantess has set her hands behind her on the ground (inadvertantly squeezing to death a woman under her flattening fingers) and, balacing her huge mass on the ball of her feet, lets her enormous ass hover above the running cop. With a slow motion, the enormous body comes to rest just on top of him (and a few cars) burying him under zillions of tons of ass. The young woman is happy with her stunt, and lets out a sound that I can only interpret as a playful "Oups" . A few minutes later, melted cars and squashed bodies are all that is left of the once busy street.
In a moment, Amanda is back where she started, just a few meters from my alley. I can see the vast feet resting on the ground near me, dirty and the soles somewhat covered in clotted blood.

She’s standing there, legs akimbo, her hands on her hips, apparently very pleased and excited, looking down around her, in search of moving things. She’s so tall, you can’t see the whole of her in one eyeful. I have to crane my neck to see the golden hair on her shoulders.  When three police cars show up at the other side of the street and come to a screeching halt, a big smile stretches on her serene face. She passes her hand on her brow and gathers her long blond hair around her ear and walks to them. The police cars have stopped and I can see some scrambling inside. Four officers jump away and run to the cover of the building. Wise. The third car is suddenly blasting backward in reverse gear. But already Amanda is settling her foot on top of it. I see the passenger trying to open his door. Too late though. In a second, nothing is left of the car and its occupants. When she steps away, she takes time to raise her foot and scrap the squished car from her sole. It crashes on the tarmac with a loud bang. Everyone inside is now less than a foot tall. I see the giant girl turn in to 23rd Street, disappearing behind the town-hall building and after a minute of hesitation, where I listen to a cacophony of screams and honking and crushed metal, well, I follow her…

By the time I reach the intersection she’s quite far in the distance. Most of the street is already nothing but a graveyard of junk cars and squished bodies. The rising sun is straight in the alignment of the avenue, still low on the horizon, bathing the whole scene in its rosy light. I see the girl stopping and looking up at it, putting her hand to her eyes to avoid the glare. The contours of her perfectly toned body (she was after all a yoga teacher in another life) catch the sun rays, emphasising its curveyness.  She’s looking at three black spots hovering in her direction. In a few seconds the spots’ blurry shapes have resolved into threatening-looking attack helicopters from St Andrew’s base. The dull vibrating noise of their rotors is reaching me now, as I walk along the building in their direction. The girl is just standing there, with an intrigued look on her face. Her hair has hardly been blowing at all in the morning breeze, it is  so heavy. But with the approach of the copters, the first locks begin to dance in the morning light. She seems delighted with the new arrivals.

I cheer, along with many people (not as insane as me, they are looking from the windows of the adjacent building not strolling like me among bodies on the street) when I see the trails of the missiles draw their cloudy lines on the sky in the direction of the woman. She just watches them coming and takes it. The explosions are loud enough, and even from where I stand I feel the sudden heat, while I crouch on the ground protecting my head. When the double fireballs that engulfed her torso finally dissolve in the wind, the young woman lets out a joyful laughter and suddenly jumps to catch the new toys. I can’t believe my eyes, when these thousands of tons of flesh suddenly leave the ground, her breasts swaying madly.  The giant hands miss the copters by quite a good distance, but the wind of their approach sends the machines in an uncertain revolving dance for a few seconds. The boom of her landing back on the ground shakes the entire district. Smiling, the young woman relaxes, and just sends a kiss to the copters, while a second salvo of armour-piercing missiles is already flying … One of them misses and comes my way.

I jump into the destroyed shop of a record dealer, looking for shelter from the coming blast. As I lean against the wall, awaiting the explosion, I stare into the poster of the “Attack of the 50-foot Woman”, pinned on the opposite wall. The blast finishes off what was left of the window shop. The laughter that booms shortly after tells me more than I needed to know. A man in the record shop is tentatively moving out to try see what’s going on in the street. “Oh my god…” comes his drained voice. Just then I hear a terrible rumbling coming from the far side of the street, followed by short explosions and a din of crushing glass. I step out as well. No longer interested by the copters, the girl is half crouched, and busy gutting the tenth floor of a building. One of her hand is propped against the angle of the sky scraper, while the other one is foraging inside. Glass and broken cement parcels are still falling down. The copters hovering above seem to hesitate to launch a third volley so close to civilians. The young woman is withdrawing her hand from the hole she created in the flank of the tall building. I can see through her half closed fingers a chaos of chairs, drawers, electrical cables.

Kneeling down now and opening her hand, The young woman separates the pieces of furniture from the people she trapped in the wreckage. Chairs and other objects are negligently tossed down on the street. Three people are apparently moving now in her palm. She grabs one delicately with her fingers and, craning her head back, lowers the screaming woman into her mouth, quickly swallowing her. She takes the other two, pinning them face to face between her fingers and deposits them on her tongue. When she swallows, her throat accommodates their passing into her vast cavernous inner body. The copters pilots have apparently come to a conclusion and launch a new salvo. The blooming flowers of fire send their burning flagrance down the street. I check again. Not a single strand of hair is singed. She just goes back to the building and enlarges the hole, like a bear attacking a beehive. Less than forty minutes have passed since Amanda Singles has had her boyfriend for breakfast and the two main arteries of the city already look like a war zone, strewn with debris, fires, and smashed bodies.

 Among the carnage, a group of marines are making their way towards the giant shape of the woman, as she concentrates on catching the office workers above. I watch them take their position behind half-destroyed cars and resume their shooting. I know now what the little plastic green guys must see when they’re played with. (Although beautiful naked girls are not their usual customers, I suppose). One of the soldiers gestures to me to stay indoors, but I ignore this good advice and he’s too busy to care. The crisp machine gun noise is deafening. Some mortars are fired at the vast body. Some guys with complex communication equipment are shouting orders or taking commands. Every one of the soldiers look stunned and enraged by the total lack of reaction from the young woman. Magazines go empty, guns are reloaded. But her breakfast is in no way disturbed. 

A rumble sound is coming from the building.  And it starts to visibly sway forward. From its base a sudden river of people is gushing out of the ground floor exits. The huge woman is letting out  a shout of glee and crouches furthers to catch a few runners in a big swap of her hands. She extends a foot towards the entrance doors and smears a dozen of the fleeing people in the tarmac. The marines have stopped shooting, with the sudden appearance of the civilian escapees. They can only witness with horror, as the girl is tossing the captured people in a big mouthful of wriggling bodies. The giantess is just starting to savour them, when the building starts toppling forwards, all its front support pillars damaged or destroyed by her insane foraging (and possibly some recent rocket explosions) We can see her start raising a hand to protect herself when the massive edifice crashes on top of her crouched shape, and into the opposite high-rise. An enormous rumble fills in the air as all the storeys crash upon the giantess. A huge billowing cloud of dust rush to fill the space in all the adjacent streets. Marines shout and crouch behind their cars, holding their helmets, and I frantically retreat into the record shop, grabbing a piece of cloth to my mouth. The next second, a storm of dust rushes past in the street and fills up the shop in its dense folds….

After a few minutes of coughing and spitting and eye-watering blindness, I attempt to look outside. The street is nowhere to be seen. A humongous pile of debris is occulting the length of the avenue, and the rays of sun are just about piercing through the heavy dust.  I hear the first cheers echo from the marines ranks. A second later, faces appear in the windows of the buildings about us, and the cheering gets louder. No motion comes from the destroyed high-rise and the mountain pile of debris. The giantess created her own doom, burying herself under thousands of tons of steel and concrete. We can still hear the drum of the copters rotors hovering above the incredible scene. As the cloud drifts slowly to the ground, I can vaguely see a huge hand protruding form the wreckage. It looks limp and lifeless. The marines are cautiously moving toward the huge pile. Coming in the opposite direction, survivors are being greeted by firemen. Everyone looks like moving statues of dust.

As I walk back to my car (which I had parked  a mile away, to enjoy an early stroll in the city), I keep spitting on the ground. My teeth are grinding on all the sand stuff I breathed back there. The first cordons of policemen and firemen are rushing to the scene behind me. The ambulance sirens have replaced the din of the firearms and rockets explosions. It evokes one of these catastrophe movies of the seventies. But in a way, the sound is nearly peaceful to me, its plausibility a welcome respite from the maddening thumping of the giant feet and the loud giggles that dominated the morning. I still have to come to terms with what I just saw.

My head is full of the terrible images of the morning. I had never seen so many bodies, so much blood before. I had never brushed with death so closely. My body is still tingling with adrenaline and I feel light-headed, walking like a zombie in the slowly populating streets (people are coming out in the open now, the news must have been broadcasted that the threat was over) . I look at the faces and see the shock that everyone is experiencing. I know that this shock is spreading at lightning speed through the entire planet. We got the surprise element here, but now I wonder how people feel that are living near one of the still sleeping giantesses. They no longer live near a strange landscape of attractive feminine shape. They live near an enormous time bomb. The fear that has been palpable over the past few months is going to turn into serious panic if a pre-emptive solution is not found quickly. Every human being is now living within reach of a new dominant predator. I still have on my retina the hungry look in the giantess’ eyes this morning. The satisfied expression on her beautiful face when she swallowed these people. The happy purring when she rubbed her vast naked belly. (I wonder briefly if they can get to her in time under the building’s wreckage to save the people  in her stomach) .
A thought comes across my mind. Amanda Singles was one of the “small” giantesses. What about the " BIG" ones?

.............................................................

At long last, I can see my car now. Like everything else, it’s covered in a whitish layer of dust. A news car is flashing past me, rushing to the site of the catastrophe. They have their task cut out for them today. A rumbling sound is coming from there again. Other buildings must be collapsing. I’m reaching for my keys in my pocket when I hear my name being called. “John!, John! Wait for me!” I turn round and see a man running towards me. It takes a second before I recognize James under the distraught face and dusty face. I wave at him. I never saw him leave the coffee shop. It feels good to see someone familiar suddenly.
“Start the car!! Start the bloody car!!”

A strange object is flying high in the sky roughly in our direction. It’s spinning real fast on its axis. I stare at it, as it reaches the apex of its trajectory and start descending and growing faster. My brain stops wondering at last and I instinctively duck as the huge thing silently passes 20 metres above us, and disappears behind a tall warehouse. I blink. It was a military armoured tank.

nostromo

NAKED HOLOCAUST  part V 

There’s something about a dark place that usually creeps me out. Too many horror movies, I guess. “Let’s split up” they always say. It’s waiting in there, just beyond the elliptic light of the torch. It is crouched for the jump…and then, one by one…
 We are splitting up now…

Each one of us is panning one of the aisles of the huge dark supermarket. I cannot be scared because the danger just cannot be in there. It is lurking outside, in full daylight. Dark places are now the only places where I feel safe. Bright places, wide open places are now the new criteria for horror. Over the past six months, each and every one of us has redefined his perception of what is safe or not. Crossing the street used to be risky. Now being in the street is the main danger. The vast derelict supermarket, dark as a tomb and smelling like one, is one of our favourite places now. Only fools don’t change their mind, I say.

The place has been raided so often, many aisles are virtually empty. But still we find a lot of useful stuff that wasn’t taken straight away during the Great Panic. Panicky people don’t think too straight. And they don’t go looking under the bottom shelves. That’s’ where most of the good stuff remain for us. We slowly fill our caddies. I can hear James in the other alley, foraging below in the hardware goods. Lucy is on the other side, checking the frozen food. (Sometimes they do function still). The brief flashes of their torch lights go dancing at time on the metallic ceiling like searchlights on very low clouds. It’s good to hear them so close. The four others are doing the same. We don’t talk, we don’t call. Oddly enough, the predators have a pretty good hearing.

There are some “clicking” noises one immediately recognises, if only from the movies. When it’s emphasized by a cold metallic contact on your head, it’s easy to add two and two together. I freeze. And raise my hands as if it was the most natural thing to do. “Turn round” says a feminine voice. I do so, and not too fast. It’s probably edifying for my attacker, but me, all I see is a blinding light attached to the head of a human form. Damn she’s tall though. I can notice that.

“Show me what you got so far.” Her voice is urgent and has a strained accent, as if she was suffering or out of breath. I gently push the basket towards her. She keeps the gun pointed at me, and checks inside. She seems to be looking for something specific.
“May I help you?” I say. “You’re looking for something, aren’t you?” I’m not over anxious. Probably some junkie searching for medical supply. (I noticed when we arrived the pharmacy had been totally looted).

“Shut up! ” she whispers. She’s obviously disappointed. I see the gun shake even more. Somehow her voice is not threatening to me. She seems upset now. I walk to her and remove the gun from her hand . (I’m a bit trained in this and she’s no killer I think). Easy enough. She  just stands there, petrified. I point now my own torch at her, as I put the gun in my belt. And I must say, I was hardly prepared for this. She’s has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Grey, pale, but the silvery kind. The long blond hair has been gathered in a knot. Her face is a perfect oval. She looks at me hard. She can expect the worst and she knows it. Recently a lot of good manners have been dropped by our civilized world. Survival is somewhat less than courteous.
“What do you want?” I ask her.
“Meds.” She answers. Figures.
“You junkie?” I ask very courteously indeed.
“No, me diabetic” she says on the same tone. I did not expect that. No  wonder she’s ready to take rather  than to ask. Meds are one of these things that go fast on the second market. Expensively so, and getting rarer.
For some reason I believe her. There’s something in a defiant attitude that tells me she’s not the bullshitting type. I kind of like her. And I do have insulin.
The others are around us now. The lights all converge to the girl’s face. They look at me interrogatingly. “A new recruit” I say. That’s my last offer to her. She takes it and she’ll last a bit longer than most. If not, well… She seems to understand that. “I’m Yana”, she says, holding out her hand to me. “John” I answer, my heart beating faster than I’d care to admit.

…………………………………………………….

Amanda Singles’ breakfast was probably the most significant event in recent world history. For the first time since the atomic bomb, the world was once again united in a unique and shared fear. The giantesses were not here to bring happiness, or a message from Mother Nature or kinky post cards. Somehow, in the midst of mankind a new form of life had arisen that was bent on using us as… food.  Primeval fear that hadn’t been stirred for millennia just rose to the surface. And while Amanda Singles kept walking around our little town, destroying every human being she met, in a concert of laughter and gleeful words, totally impervious to any attempts at communication, a quick consensus was reached by all : we were in deep, deep trouble.

No conventional weaponry had seemed to affect the colossal woman. She had risen from under the collapsed building with little more than a puzzled look on her face. Napalm, missiles, rockets, mortars, guns of all size had been tested pretty fast on her giant body. They left no mark whatsoever. It was if her body just wasn’t there when the shells hit her. It has been since theorized that the huge amount of matter they represent, and that appeared out of the blue on our planet is in some state of flux. It is present, yet absent too. Like a Schrödinger’s cat lifting the lid of his box a million times per second. This could, they say, explain the total lack of regards they show to extreme temperature, explosions and other perforating  tricks of this sort we invented to destroy regular matter. Like I said, trouble.

I moved from my house in the suburbs the day after the awakening. The woman was still very much busy destroying the city centre  in a joyful manner, and had only once briefly moved to a residential district (which she had flattened in a few hours), but as evacuation was on the way, it was apparent she’d soon start and follow the screaming nutrients she seemed to enjoy so much. As I packed my things in the car, I could see her naked figure far in the distance like a weird optical illusion. I did not intend to see her too close again. It was a bit later, as I was collecting James and his wife at their home, thirty miles off town, that we saw on their TV the first pictures of the other giantesses.

In central Tokyo, a humongous shape was moving around, and feeding joyously on the inhabitants. Her perfect figure, graceful limbs and youthful face made her very reminiscent of the manga characters they produce over there. But the cuteness factor vanished quickly from my mind when a shaking camera showed her ripping off the top of an ambulance to collect the passengers on her tongue. She was easily twice as large as Amanda singles. That made her twice as hungry.

The newsman was obviously situated pretty high and when he panned down his camera towards the street all you could see was wreckage, and gore. The street was awash with blood, guts and greasy smears. Like Amanda the day before, the Japanese girl was obviously very keen on flattening the little moving figures at her feet and like Amanda, she was clear about not taking any prisoners. You could see her face rising over the various city blocks as she seemed to methodically stomp her way through the screaming streets. Sirens, screams, gun fires. All this reminded me of our experience here, except on a bigger scale. Her naked body was regularly disappearing behind buildings, as she leaned down, to re-appear a second later, emptying a handful of what must have been people in her eager mouth. She kept licking her fingers. The footage, that only lasted a few minutes came to a sudden stop when the huge body turned towards the camera and in a few steps the beautiful face was all the wide angle camera was able to capture as it came level with the operator and his crew, perched as they were on some terrace. The huge black eyes behind him seemed bigger than the man holding the microphone. Suddenly a huge finger appeared and crashed into the camera. All sound stopped. Yet the camera went on transmitting, till it penetrated a vast cavern of a mouth, where I’m sure I saw some moving bodies, on the threshold of a dark fleshy chasm. Then, all went black. I still remember the shocked expression on my friends’ faces, probably a fair reflection of my own.

A war had started, a war we are quickly losing today. As more and more giant women woke up around the globe, our planet became a very dangerous place to live, especially at first for the armed forces. Countless soldiers were launched to the assault of the naked creatures, ending up in a total fiasco and a very real slaughter. The flying tank I witnessed on the very first day of the Awakening was but a small demonstration of what was going to happen to entire armies in every nation. I got to see it with my own eyes, when we found ourselves unwittingly on some of the battlefields (meaning, in one of the dying cities). I have seen the blood covered feet of giantesses, as they stomped the battalions to cream on the compressed floor, a lazy smile on their face. I’ve seen the soldiers fighting for their lives, shooting their last rounds as the vast hands picked them up, to turn them into nourishing proteins. I’ve seen their firepower attracting a playful giantess, who would squash them by simply lying down leisurely on their ranks, squishing armoured vehicles under the weight of her thighs and belly and massive breasts, picking up the survivors around her body, to smear them into her skin. Beautiful enemy, but not a pretty war.

Nuclear weaponry was attempted three times, in Siberia, on some Indonesian island whose entire population had been killed, and in the South American Andes. The monstrous firestorms knocked the giantesses unconscious. But nothing we tried ever prevented them to come back to life a day later. Still, research continues along these lines, we’re told, and that now, is a scary thought.

As all infrastructures slowly came to a grinding halt, so did the supplies to the cities. With so many giant predators around walking in the ruins, and strolling in the countryside,( inadvertently destroying the crops under their indefatigable feet) attempting to organize  convoys became more and more risky. It was not uncommon to have lines of trucks wantonly destroyed by a passing giantess, its drivers eaten as snacks, and the vehicles flattened underfoot, as she simply passed along to go God know where. To be human and moving is enough to be labelled as food and consumed on the spot.
In that sense, train traffic suffered the brunt of their attacks. After all, to a hungry giantess, a passenger train passing by looks like sardines cans on wheels. They rarely decline the kind offer. For long distance travel, airplane has become the safest way to go from A to B (provided you don’t decide to land between the thighs of  a relaxing vixen). Still, it will take some time before mere giantesses prevent mankind from using its cars and many are the foolhardies who still travel.

And then there was …the Kink. That started later , about 8 months into the “conflict”. One incident was reported on the radio. (TV was on its way out due to power shortage and lack of working studios) . I remember the interview of a survivor of this group that had been caught by a roaming giantess. She was rather small, maybe 200 feet. She had taken twenty of the people alive, in her large hands. Then she had carried them over to the top of a tall building. They were all screaming and waiting for death by ingestion. But it’s not in her belly that they died. She proceeded simply by inserting them into herself. The man described the horror, as the first victim was struggling and shouting, sure he was going to be eaten, when suddenly she drove him close to her vast cleft between her thighs. The man had stopped shouting. And it’s in unbelieving silence that he was pushed head first into her vagina. With a gentle nudge from her finger, the huge pussy swallowed him whole without a fuss, and his trashing little legs were nowhere to be seen. The screaming resumed when she grabbed the next guy. He knew where he was going this time. The giantess started to express her considerable pleasure, and for the first time since the awakening, a city rocked to the sound of her moans. She started to use the rest of the group, playing with them, kissing them, rubbing them on her nipples, obviously aroused by their little bodies inside her or on her skin. She grabbed all the people remaining on the roof (to the exception of the interviewee, probably saved by her …distraction), then she lied down on the ground, crushing a few houses in the process and carried on pleasuring herself with her little lot of victims. Those she did not squash on her breasts with her trembling hands, ended crushed inside her enthusiastic vagina, under her buttocks, and a few disappeared from the surface of the earth, engulfed for ever by her anus. The survivor, who told the tale (but many other witnesses cowering in half destroyed buildings around could have testified the same) recalled the very last victim fell into her open mouth as she uttered the last moan of her orgasm. “Cherry on the cake”, a dubious epitaph.

So, it appeared that sexual gratification had been added for the first time to the somewhat limited range of actions of the huge women. Mankind had found its new purpose, it seemed.
The Kink, as it became known as, spread slowly throw the entire giantess herd, like a fad among teen-agers, and today meeting one of them in the open no longer necessarily means a slow agony in her digestive track, or a fast death under her foot, or ass.  Slow suffocation deep inside a orifice of hers is now a very real possibility. Oddly enough, the giantess, deep in the collective mind, left the ranks of the brutal T-Rex family to rejoin in a way the human one. Women they were at first, vast, voluptuous sleeping beauties, then they turned into voracious monsters, and now women they are to us again, thanks to the thunder of their pleasure. That does not lessen the fear they inspire in us, and is indeed a poor consolation.

...................................................................................................

I’m introducing Yana to our little gang. James and I have decided to survive this. It will take what it takes, and we’re just about starting to get more organized and more purposeful in our wanderings. We’ve also tried to offer help to those we met; now about twenty of us have join our efforts to survive and find a place to live in relative safety. For some reason I’ve assumed a responsibility I did not particularly looked for. But I do not have the luxury to think about it. We discuss the situation in the dark echoing space of the once thriving mall. I am explaining the general plan when I notice a few of the round splashes of lights on the ceiling again, as we casually hold our torches. One of them is splayed on one the Plexiglas domes that provide natural light during the day. I stop in mid sentence. “Switch off the lights!” I shout.

A second later some tremors start running across the floor. Getting stronger. Some shelves start rattling. Damn. Seen from the outside, punching through the ceiling porthole, our light must have been like a beacon in the dark neighbourhood. “We better move now” I say. And we start feeling our way along the interminable aisles, towards what we think is the closest exit. Outside loud thumps and crashing noises are clearly audible as she comes closer. Suddenly, a terrifying din of screeching metal and twisting beams fills the entire place. I watch aghast as the ceiling disappears, rolling away like an opened can of beans. The first moon beams shine through the hole, and a dim nocturnal light invades our comfy darkness. A second later a vast curtain of impossibly long hair pours through the opening, as a huge massive face takes a peek inside the mall. We hear the loud whisper she utters, in the liquid and strange language the use, like a girl trying to coax a kitten out of hiding. Large fingers come around the opening and start ripping off the rest of the ceiling. Debris crash down all around us.

I see Dave crumble to the floor as he gets hit by a massive piece of steel. We run through the aisle now, jumping over the obstacles, toppling the shelves and scrambling in the moonlight towards the inside of the mall. A purring sound comes from high above. A high pitched scream and Suzan is snatched away from our fleeing group. Her screams gain altitude as she’s brought straight away to the lips of the girl. I just turn back enough to see her disappear in the dark hole of the mouth. More light comes in, as the giantess straightens her posture to swallow Suzan more comfortably. The screams are more muffled but still audible for a second or two after the gulping sound. Then darkness comes back as the vast head looms closer again. A sudden punch through the ceiling and the entire structure in front of us comes crashing down , forcing us to angle our flight to the right, across the damned shelves. “Nononononoooooooo”. That’s Wilbur. His scream comes from high above now, and the  smacking of mighty lips accompanies it. We hear the brief echo his voice creates in the cavity of the slowly closing mouth. The gulp follows, and the humming of satisfaction of the woman above us.

I realize I’m dragging Yana by the arms, yanking her into following me. We crash into more hardware, as the hand comes back in. The shelves are being thrown about by the huge searching fingers. I hear one of us shout as two vast shelves collapse onto him , trapping him. I rush back to him. I  have difficulties discerning him in the dark mess. I fumble around, feel his hand, start pulling, just in time to be brushed aside by huge fingernails, which delicately proceed to push aside the heavy gear, and to dislodge the little snack stuck under it. There’s nothing I can do. I see two fingers gently grab a vaguely mumbling figure and lift him out of the mall. As she straightens again, I see through the vast opening the full shape of the woman. She’s is crouched above us, her vast legs forming a gigantic dark triangle, against the starry night. The vast belly and the majestic breasts are lit now by the moonbeams, giving the perfect skin an unreal bluish hue. Her face is picture perfect of course (we’re used to this strange beauty of theirs), high in the air, a radiant smile on her lips. I see her push aside her long black hair, as she bring the terrified man to her nose and sniffs on him, like one would a cigar. Her tongue passes briefly between her lips. She cranes her head back and casually drops our friend in her mouth. When her face comes level again, her eyes are closed as she relishes the gulping of her little victim. When she opens them again, I know Kevin is alive somewhere under this beautiful breast of hers. Not for long. Her eyes are reflecting the moon as they shine straight in my direction.

Yana hasn’t moved, transfixed by horror.  I rush in her direction. I can see on my right the huge hand advancing towards her immobile form, perched as she his on a toppled freezer. “Yana!! Move it!! Run!!”  I shout, but I can see she’s the next one to go. The fingers are nearly dancing lightly as they come close to the petrified young woman, as if choosing between her and some other victim. I won’t make it to her. Just as the fingers come across her body, Yana screams. At the same time a beam of light pierces the darkness and the face of the giant woman is lit by two crossing circles of light. She blinks for a second. As her hand moves away from Yana, I tackle her like a rugby man, sending both of us toppling over to the darkness the between the tall freezer aisle. I start push her in front of me, urging her forward.

I look backward. A mad laughter echoes in the night. I know that laughter. That’s James’. He’s running along an aisle, flashing his lights at the giant girl. She smiles at him. When she takes him, it’s very slowly and very gently. She’s amused. My friend is no longer laughing his madness away. I can hear him swear and struggle against the fingers that lift him up to the giant face. She’s taking a good look at him. Smells him too. James is shouting his heart out at her now. He sounds more furious than scared, yet I know he must be scared. I am. For him. I am frozen, scared stiff, unable to find a way. The huge woman starts standing up. I hear my friends’ voice grow fainter in two seconds as the impossibly tall legs never cease to expand. She s’ towering above us now, her figure highlighted by the clear moonlight.

I see the twin lights that James was carrying still sending circles in the face high above. Suddenly, they seem to drop, as the girl is lowering her hand to her crutch. A sickening feeling comes across me. The little beams of light are now circling the bush and the vast sex of the huge woman.  Flashes of rosy skin folds, screams of struggle, a slurping noise. I can’t hear James any more. The girl is pushing him deep into her with her fingers. When she straightens her pose, James is no longer in her hand. The girl closes her eyes, keeping a hand on her sex, and crossing slightly her thighs. She would look hot as hell if that pose did not involve a man being buried alive in her. She seems delighted.
A sudden light catches my eyes. In her other hand the girl is still holding one of the torch lights that James flashed at her, when he saved Yana. I see the young woman bringing the tiny object to her face. She has a sudden smile. And she pops it in her mouth, lighting briefly her teeth and the wet interior of her cheeks. She swallows it.

We've left the supermaket area and rush into the main lobby of the mall.The place is still half covered by the shattered roof,  and the darkness is near total.  I can only hear the shouts of the others to give me direction. Yana's shape is discernable just ahead of me. An enormous crushing sound occurs somewhre behind us. Glancing back, I can see the huge foot that has crashed through the ceiling. That's bad, she's no longer playing with her food, apparently, she's just after killing some tiny people now.  I hear urgent shouts coming from the right hand side of the lobby where a dim ray of light has been created by an opening door, with a red light above it. I rush forward, grab Yana by her shoulder and push her in that direction. We both duck when a second foot goes through the roof, this time in front of us. It feels like a locomotive has  landed in the place, a huge block of darkness covering the entire floor. I heard a weird high pitch sound as it crashed down. I've bad feeling someone was standing there a second ago. I don't wanna know. In the sudden moonlight pouring in from above, I can see the tower of an immense leg.Panels of metal and concrete fall around  us . The foot moves, hovering above the ground in our direction. We going straight into it. I push Yana down and we both fall on the floor as the massive object passes over our bodies, less than a meter above ground. It seems it will never stop passing over us (a drop of something falls on my cheek). It lands with a loud thud, so close I could touch it. I hear a steel bar crunching under it like vulgar foil paper. The smell is quite human. As we stand up again, the foot moves slowy backwards and the heel catches both of us in its swing. I'm totally winded as it projects us hard against a wall. It's our turn to land. I feel groggy, as I stay my back against the wall. The foot is lifting up into the air. Some hands drag me through the open door i saw earlier , I hear Yana's voice, muffled and far away, as if my head was made of cotton. She pushes me down some stairs. Another loud crash is exploding in the mall. I let myself be guided through the dark descending stairs.

……………………………………………………………

Yana and I and a few others are still running in the darkened streets. A veil of heavy clouds has covered the moon and we run away from the mall, that the giantess is joyfully stomping into oblivion, just for the fun of it, it seems. Thankfully we don’t’ have to run too far. Before long we find the relative safety of an underground parking lot.

Yana has fallen asleep now, exhausted, after I gave her a shot of insulin. She looks beautiful in the dim glow of the emergency lighting. I sigh. She’s near me because James suddenly decided to be a hero. Well... I guess he just was. There’s no way around it. I feel the knot in my throat.
I come back to the surface. Far way I vaguely see the shape of the huge young woman who is strolling away from town and into the night. I hope James is dead by now. I really do.
Suddenly I have this nauseating feeling again, as the horrible thought comes flooding my mind once more: Kevin, Suzan, Wilbur. Gobbled down in two seconds... Looking at each other as the lit torchlight lands in their midst, in the middle of her stomach…..

nostromo

 NAKED HOLOCAUST Part VI

What is the strategy? What are the goals? In a word: What the hell is going on?

This is the obsession of every able-thinking human being on our planet right now. There is no doubt an intelligence is at work in this horrific pandemonium. Scientists of all nations are desperately trying to translate the strange language our tormentors use. It is thought that the word “yusloy” describes us. The term is often used during a “catch”, when the GTS seem to address  us, shortly before this encounter of the umpteenth kind turns into a dinner feast, a crushing feat, or sexual play.
Attempts have been made, using loudspeakers on planes or helicopters  to repeat some words to them, with the improbable hope they would have been unaware of our sentient nature. That only caused a few giggles, some incomprehensible retorts and mostly plain ignoring.

We’re under attack by some intelligence, and it is very unlikely it appeared among us. Some theories ran for a while of a  genetic project going wrong, of an epidemic of unknown nature, but the presence of this language of theirs has eliminated these hypothesises. They understand one another. The first witnessed meeting between two GTS has been well documented on TV. The two wondrous creatures started to chat in an animated fashion, laughing at impossible jokes, nodding approval. Their body language is pretty comparable to ours. And it was obvious their words carried meaning to them. But thousands of computer programs could not trace the basis of this language to any known lingo or even syntax. The meeting itself ended with one GTS feeding the other one, before attending to her sexual needs, using a multitude of tiny figures to enhance her pleasure. Was it a friendly gesture? Is there a hierarchy among them? Who knows…

The explanation is therefore today in favour of an external power. The GTS would be the product of an intervention from an intelligence far superior to our own, and therefore probably alien to the planet. Some groups argue the right to call it God, or Allah, or other divinity. But they sure have a hard time conciliating their gods’ benevolence with the current massacre.
As for me, well, my own theory is simple enough, and well shared by the public. Termination of our species. Like giant pest controllers, the GTS are cleaning our planet of the human race, for the future settlement of another race. The GTS are the tools of this cleansing.

And so it happens, slowly but surely. The number of human beings on the planet has started, for the first time singe the Great Plague, to dwindle down significantly. To say that the Giantesses are the cause is obvious, but the real factor is in no way the regular slaughter they perform during the day. Sure, a single GTS can kill a few hundred people in their good days, but mostly, our species has become master of disguise. The night is now our ally. And like the otter, who had become a nocturnal animal because of man, we are coming a day-fearing animal, because of the Giantesses. Mankind has descended into the night.
We all know it’s only a manner of buying time, the GTS will also catch up soon enough with our new mode of life, they will adapt, sleeping longer during the day and increasing their rounds at night, maybe even develop new techniques to feed on us. (The question of their cruelty is a hot debate: since they do not show any other "hobbies" , the killing seems to be their very nature, as giant predators, or their very function, as tools of elimination. Cruelty is somehow not the right term for them, it seems, but it could well be applied to the sourcethat created them.)

No, the real factor for the demographic catastrophe is really the crumbling of our organized civilisation. Agriculture has become a high risk activity, medicine and hospitals, concentrated in urban centres, have followed the same destiny as most urban activities. Travels are dangerous, food no longer crosses the countries, factories no longer provide the maintenance parts. Famine has struck hard many states, stating with the African states, no longer receiving the humanitarian aid. Then Eastern countries, with their high concentration of population, no longer have access to the massive food supply they require. The Western world sees its population struck by famine also, for the first time since a hundred and fifty years.

This is a bloody mess. And Yana and I are right in the middle of it. Our little gang has grown and dwindled and grown again, depending on the odds we met, the cleverness we showed, and I hate to say it, the mistakes I’ve made. We’re a hardy group, many of us have skills that prove useful in the field, and many have shown a courage I did not know existed in ordinary people. Many have prevented me from crossing dangerous lines. We get by.
Recently the question of survival has been replaced by the question of hope. Is there any for us? And if so, where is it?  We can no longer keep going the way we’ve been, surviving from one city to the next. We need a direction, a goal. It has been agreed that reaching the Northern places is our best bet for survival. It’s not enough to eke a living out of dying cities, we need a place to live permanently. North it is then. Hopefully we’ll meet someone who knows how to pilot a plane and will try to find one. Otherwise, well, a long trip lies ahead.

………………………………………………………………………..

Tonight we cross the river. We’ve been hiding in the old church for two days now. Two giantesses seem to have dominion over this region. One of them is pretty small, perhaps 200 feet tall, she looks very young, her hair is short, boyish style, of a stunning red hue, her pale body is like a huge ad for perfect skin. She laughs a lot. The other one is twice her size, a giant chocolate-skinned beauty, with dreadlock the length of the church, and balancing heavily down to her behind. Her body is nothing less than sculptural, with well defined abdominal muscles and toned arms and legs. It seems the original woman was a fitness addict. (What is there left of her in this giant body?). We spotted them from afar, hiding along the derelict buildings, squirming past their giant feet in the dark, slowly progressing towards the river.

Last night, Beck was caught, as she was coming back from a scouting bout to find some more food in a mall she knew existed in the suburbs. Myself and Pete were accompanying her one this one. We had gotten stuck by the passage of the small GST, as she was idly strolling in the streets. We observed her, as she randomly destroyed the roofs of houses and had a peek inside, her long fingers foraging in search of a tiny human. She kept going at it really slow, and we got stuck at a petrol station, not daring to move. Watching her vast slim body blot out the stars behind he, we kept mostly quiet, (except for Peter, whose leery comments on the giantesses’ large assets had surely been a source of joy to the female members of the group)

 Large GTS are so big, one feels a bit more confident when meeting them, our miniature shapes probably difficult to notice in the darkness. Small GTS like this are more dangerous, they are closer to the ground, perhaps enjoy a better hearing. You never know. The night was drawing to an end and we were becoming restless. A few hundred yards away the huge girl had sat on the ground, near a lot of small one storey houses. Under her huge ass, an oak tree had crumpled like a blade of grass. We shivered when we heard the first screams in the night. Bingo for our GTS, she had found a group of people, or perhaps an isolated family, foolish enough to stick by their possessions.

That was it for us. We scrambled into the night, in the direction of the church. We were going fine, when suddenly a train passed by, just in front of us, a dark shape rushing with sound of thunder in the night (trains were a sever liability for travelling, but countless convoys still crossed the night,  taking enormous risks to bring food and necessities to cities or military bases, or any “strategic” base. We had to stop and let it pass. It was going at a really high speed, but all rules of safety had vanished long ago. Only the goal mattered. Behind us a giggle of enormous power rolled into the sky. Vibrations came up suddenly along our legs. I turned round slowly afraid of what’ I’d see. The massive woman was rushing to us. Her eyes were dark pools in the darkness, and I doubt she was looking at us, but her massive frame was rushing forward, perhaps in the hope to catch the tail of the train (they were known to them as a good source of tinies, I’m sure). Large feet were stomping in our direction.

The train was passing by in front of us. It seemed to go on for ever. Behind us the huge woman was advancing fast. We rushed towards the nearest house. A massive form higher than the street was long was already filling the slowly brightening horizon. Her huge breasts were swinging madly in her haste. The train passed at last, and for a second, I was sure she was going to follow it. She could easily outrun it for a short while, even considering the difficult terrain ( that meant a lot of houses explosively disintegrating under her running soles) .
 We just cowered in the darkness of the abandoned house. Beck was shivering with fright, Pete was livid, and I was shaking like a leaf. We stayed there for another half an hour, but I was getting really anxious about the time. Outside the horizon has taken the rosy hues of a bright morning. Sunrises and bright mornings are no longer a source of wonder, believe me. The air was still and silent. We had to get back now or attempt a dangerous daylight trip back to the church by the river. We decided to take our chance. I opened the door and scrutinized the surroundings. Nothing alarming. We came out of hiding and started to trot along walls. The street was littered with all sorts of objects, rats were squealing as we passed by. I just had time catch the movement from the corner of my eyes.

A shadow came upon us. From behind a massive colonial style house a giant arm was rising. The vast hand was already dropping down in our direction. Over the roof, the red dome of her head appears, and the next second two mischievous eyes appeared above the building. The huge massive body was resting obviously on the ground . As her face came in full view in the now dim light, a few words shattered the silence. “Caught ya!” was probably was she said. Her luscious and youthful smile was showing the formidable teeth of a happy predator. The next second the ceiling of her palm was upon us, as we rushed screaming towards the nearest house entrance. Two large fingers extended and surrounded Beck’s running form ahead of me. I heard the young woman shout in horror, as the pressure settled and her run was interrupted by a sudden take off. I can only imagine what it must feel like, feeling the grainy pressure of the warm flesh around you, seeing the ground recede under your flaying legs, as you rise above the house roofs, knowing fully that you have turned in a second from a living person into a mere morsel, an appetizer, that your next stop will be within the inner darkness of the giant captor. And that no one will ever be able to stop this.

 I dived into the lobby of a big hotel near the train station, Pete, on my heels. I stop by the window and watched the vast naked body taking its full stature, as the woman stood up. For a few second all I could see was the vast feet and the beginning of her calves. Then more motion and the giant body sat on the roof of a building, crushing the structure. The woman sat cross-legged, and brought Beck to her face. I could see our friend screaming and struggling in the grip of the feminine fingers. The giant girl spoke to her, in a nearly soothing tone, making also some hushing noise, as if to appease her prey. After a minute or two, Beck had stopped her struggle and was staring into the large  blue eyes. She tried to speak to the girl. The giant girl was looking at her with curiosity it seemed, possibly surprised to hear more than a scream coming for the tiny morsel. A long smile stretched the sensual lips. She replied to Beck in a whispered tone, her face looked… concerned. I had never seen before a giantess showing any personal interest in us.  ( And I suspect to this day that what she said to our friend could have brought the entire situation under a different light but…).

 The young girl opened her mouth slightly. Beck resumed her screaming, as the upper part of her body was introduced between the tombstone-like teeth. Delicately, the mouth closed, the scream intensified, got muffled by the closing lips. I averted my eyes. Not long enough. The next think I saw was the girl chewing slowly the little body, a trickle of blood staining her lips. In her hand two limp legs protruded from her fingers. Some loud Mmmmm sounds of appreciation boomed from the slender throat. I puked what was left of my long forgotten last meal. When I looked again, the pair of legs was being tossed in the vast red inside of the cavernous mouth. I rushed to the other side of the house, dragging a crying Pete behind me.

We crashed doors open in our rush, running in pitch black corridors, looking for the nearest exit. A loud crashing noise exploded above us. The hotel seemed to rock on its foundations. She knew where we were. The ceiling behind us crashed down , wooden beams piercing the plaster, the dim light of daybreak invading our darkness, in the sudden cloud of dust that penetrated the corridor. Above us, a flash of pink flesh, as large fingers started to break through the ceiling. I rushed into a door. It opened. Toilets.  I open the small window, crawl though it, my skin scratched opened on the hard wood, my jeans ripped through. I fall down in a bush. Packs start flying through, thrown by Peter and crashing on my head on shoulders. Pete appears in the narrow opening. I stand up and start pulling him out. We’re in a small alley, between the hotel and the next building. The crashing sound carries on, as the giant girl is prying open the hotel. Dust is rising from every shattered window above us, as we start running down the alley. A shadow above forces me to a stop. An enormous foot is flying above us, attached to it is the incredible length of her leg, leading to the naked crotch. Beyond, her upper body is too squeezed by perspective to be really graspable.  The foot crashed on top of the building next to us.

 The walls come toppling down, as the edifice is suddenly leaning against the already destroyed hotel. The alleyway has turned into a tunnel. I keep running, hearing Pete’s laboured breath behind me. Playing video games is the closest I have been to war- like situations. I will never play that stuff again. Adrenalin has  replaced my blood. I just want out of this crushing horror. In front of me a massive finger is pushing the rubble in my direction , trying to find us in the interstice between the houses. I secure my packs. And dive under a long man-sized plate. It’s about large enough to hide, small enough to grab on either side. I grab it with all my strength as I let it collapse onto me. I have no idea what Pete is doing. Breathing is difficult now, the foraging noises around us are deafening, like a dozen wrecking balls at work at the same time. Far above a strange cooing is trying to coax us into showing ourselves. I look to my left. I see Pete, stuck under a falling block. His left leg is a messy red mass. Suddenly a large finger nail is obscuring my sight. It lifts the blocks around Pete, pressing against the walls nearby, collapsing them. The block that covers Pete is lifted in the air. I hear a giggle of glee. The massive finger comes back, this time with the aid of another one as they squeeze through the alley to grab Peter. His body disappears without a sound. I think he’s half- conscious. A minute  later, I hear distinctly a feeble yelp followed by crunching noises, as the chewing face is probably just above me. A swallowing noise. Pete is gone.

 The foraging starts again in the alley. I see two fingernails appearing right and left of me. Lifting the plate of plaster I hang to. I muster all my strength. The plate lifts two or three meters, before being pushed push aside against a wall. I just hung to it , my struggling arms and legs probably too small to be noticed in the dark alley. The plate falls back on me and I find myself violently stuck against a pile of rubble . The stones try and find a way through my ribs. But she hasn’t seen me. The fingers are  moving further away, I keep quiet there for one, two hours, who knows. All I hear is the methodical destroying of the houses nearby. She’s thorough, I can give her that. It’s daylight now, and all I can do is waiting. When all noises have cease, I crawl out of my hiding place, grab the packs I can find and make my way back to the church.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The crossing of the river is going to be tricky.

We have many times seen Giantesses come to the rivers and lakes to drink. It’s also a place where they like to rest, their massive bodies disrupting the flow and creating mini floods in the surrounding countryside. I remember that small ferry that drifted on the large river south of here, its engines dead , its passengers screaming, and the mischievous woman who waited for it down the current. Her feet on both sides of the river, her naked body in her crouching position.  I remember the screams from the little boat when the huge womanhood started to lower over the passing boat, stopping it at first, crunching its masts and then sinking it into the fast flowing river. The woman had sat there for one hour, in the water gathering the swimming survivors that got caught against her thighs. A lot of them were clinging to her pubic hair, as if it was a safety line. it's not in the water that they eventually drowned...

Yes the crossing could prove quite a task. We all sat in the church, waiting for the right moment.
We have done our grieving already for Beckie and Pete. We do not have too much time to that any more. Yana is holding my hand as if she'd decided never to let it go ever again. I don' t want her to ever let it go. And I need this contact today more than ever. As we wait, a young student, Yoko, is telling us of her escape from Tokyo, the day the Awakened destroyed the city. We all saw it on TV. It was the first BIG  one.…..

Tbc?

nostromo

Naked Holocaust     Part VII

When it comes to feelings, I’m not the best. I have to admit that. I simply do not play it well. My head is just too full of hypothesis, preconceptions, scenarios and other ideas I have about what the other thinks. 90% of the time, I’m wrong.  I’ve been trying to put words on Yana’s behavior with me and I know I’m probably miles off course. Flirting in the middle of a world wide catastrophe is a difficult art. I don’t think I’ve mastered it.
It’s been two and half months since we found her in that mall, and she proved to be a very valuable asset to our group. She has some serious skills in scouting, outdoor survival, and her common sense is just what we need to kill in the egg the hair-brained ideas we come up with at times to organize our daily life. Whenever she speaks, we pay attention. I think my obvious listening to her actually has given weight to her opinions, since I’m willy-nilly leading the rat-pack.
Each time she speaks I listen, but there’s more to it. This feeling in the gut that makes me distracted and focused at the same time. I’m falling in love and there’s nothing to it. I have a multitude of ideas, as to whether she could develop an interest in me. But I’m just too dumb to sort them out.

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

We left the last city in poor shape. Beck and Pete are now memories that will fade quickly under the assault of the new dramas that certainly await us on our road. We crossed the river at night. The bridges had all been destroyed, either by the careless foot of a giantess or by the explosion of some truck or boat. Finding the boats had been a long quest. We got a few canoes though, that we found in the basement of a derelict outdoors shop. We even got the proper barrels to carry our stuff in. Yana and I had built a simple catamaran, linking two canoes with wooden boards and wire. This would allow us to carry our big stuff. Another team of four had done the same. The others had simple canoes, or even kayaks. In the darkness of the falling night, we looked like a gang of smugglers about to cross the border, as we spoke in hushed tone and moved our rigs stealthily to the river. (I always kept an ear out for the slightest tremor, or unusual vibration) . But the night was good enough to us, and no looming shape crossed the horizon. We started our voyage around midnight, in a hushed concert of frightened exclamations and mocking giggles. It really looked like we were going to pull this off.  The beautiful monster that ate Becky had appeared to us once in the evening, but far way and strolling happily towards the horizon.  We had waited a bit more, just to make sure.

It had been decided after all that crossing the river was not the best idea. As the flow was roughly going North, it was agreed that we’d be trying to let the boats follow the current for a while before attempting to reach shore. We all started to paddle quietly. It was the first transport we’d used for quite some time, since that train we hopped on three months ago. Myself, well, I wasn’t that thrilled. I did not like the idea of the long fluvial journey. I’d preferred to get it over with, cross the bloody river and carry on foot. But since I had no reason to give to the group other than my gut-feeling, it was decided to give it try. Hell, even Yana seemed to be in favor of the cruise. That made me cave in pretty quick. I should trust my gut feelings...

The weather was getting stormy, making the night pitch black. We decided to take advantage of the lightning. In the frequent flashes, and the light drizzle that started pretty early, I kept glancing at Yana, on the other canoe of our makeshift raft. She had found a lifejacket and looked like the monitor of an unruly bunch of teenagers, as she kept hushing people down and gave instructions to the less river-savvy among us. If it hadn’t been for the horror of the day, I ‘d swear we were like a holiday camp on its first outing on the river, excited and nervous all at once.
Once in a while she was glancing at me, and smiling too. Behind me, paddling away, Jack was asking me to “watch the road”, as he put it. I wasn’t too focused.

Our cruising was going fine, we kept it nice and center in the flow, a little armada of tiny crafts. The main problem was visibility. In a world where the slightest light was an invitation to diner, darkness was the common lot of mankind. The river was ink black, its banks a slightly different shade of black. And for bridges, well, we’d know about it when we hit one.
As the storm came rolling upon us, enormous drops started to pelt our heads and our glass fiber boats. The noise was impressive, it could have rained lead balls, it would have been the same. Darkness and thunder and lightning, the perfect setting for a doomed journey. The initial optimism seemed far away already, and we strained to see the river ahead. The giantess we met less than two hours after our merry launch was darker than the night itself.

Her body was huge. I spotted her first as a terrific thunderbolt exploded over us, and lightning struck not far away from our little team. Her black shape was suddenly reflecting the blue glare of the lightning, millions upon million of droplets on her sleek black skin highlighting her contours. I could just about make out her enormous mass resting on the bank. Her shape was only visible thanks to the sharp change in bank height. The lightning of the storm gave her the momentous allure of a fallen ebony statue. I took the near useless binoculars, and in the brief flashes of light, I managed to see the curves of her breasts far ahead like two dark towers over a massive wall. She was lying on her back along the bank a half a mile from us. Her feet were closer to us, her head a good 500 feet further down the river. I whispered to a frozen Yana to hold her paddle and hushed everyone around us. Our tiny boats were gliding towards the monster among the rising surges of the engorged river.(the storms had started earlier in the day in the far country, and the rivers were getting pretty loaded) As we came closer we tried to maneuver away from the haunted bank towards the opposite one, but the awkward skiff we built was taking ages to turn, and I did not want to risk breaking it with heavy paddling. I’m sure it would have been easy with an engine, but we were playing the cards dealt to us. The colossal feet were coming closer. Whenever the skies lit up, every  five seconds, I could see the many rivulets flowing from her massive toes down to her heel.

In the stroboscopic light, it was hard to fathom whether any motion shook the enormous body. Still, no sudden propping on elbows and gleeful shout came to us. I suppose for her the storm was a breeze and the heavy rain, a refreshing mist, nothing to wake up about. Yana’s face was a mask of anxiety, and the others looked just as unnerved by the silent threat. Their boats surrounded us now, everyone seeking the presence of their comrades. Their faces were hard , hesitating between expressions of fear and dark resolve. The opposite bank was too steep to consider it for the moment, it looked like the only way would be past the monstrous woman. The paddles kept bumping against the now compact group of canoes. Hands were reaching out and locking the crafts against one another. I’m sure I was not the only one instinctively pressing my right foot to the plastic floor of the boat, in search of the brakes. We observed the slow approach of the giant prone figure. “She asleep?” whispered Yana. ( I wished I could have reached out to her, but our makeshift catamaran kept our canoes apart). “Dunno” I retorted honestly. For all we knew, she was eyeing our boats coming closer, licking her chops.

Still she wasn’t moving. I could well recognize the dreadlocked black beauty we had spotted in the region a day or two before. In the intermittent flashes , her shape became more obvious. One of her long legs was propped up slightly, an improbable bridge parallel to the river, whose dark skin vaguely reflected the feeble light. Beyond, the curvy wall of her flank was coming to view. She was like a low hill to us, our little boats hardly the size of her fingers.  Yana was studying the opposite bank to see if we could possibly land there before coming too close to the predator. As I pushed against the paddle, I could feel the sweat running down my spine and my brow. The rain was heavy, the waterfall noise covering our whispers.  We kept coming closer. I indicated everyone to go for the outside bank.

We came to the level of her feet. I realized then just how close she was to the river. One of her foot was actually in the current, creating a visible eddy of white foaming water around the ankle. I looked hard ahead. If she was that close…. The long leg of the woman was passing by slowly, we could make out the formidable thigh ahead, magnified by the sudden flashes of lightning. All of us were petrified by now, and Yana was panting, trying to angle our course away from the amazing and lethal enemy. Individuals canoes were faring well, moving away, but the two catamarans were awfully hard to steer. The damn leg seemed to take ages to pass by, the bent knee was a dark mass somewhere high above us. Streams of rain poured from the dark wet skin.  Further away, the mounds of the breasts were becoming clearly discernable in the electrical bluish glare of the storm, dark pyramids rhythmically moved by her sleeping breath..

I heard it at last. The rain had slightly subsided, allowing more sounds to become prominent. The hard liquid noise of a dam. Directly ahead of us , in the darkness, the long arm of the woman was lying perpendicular to the current, the foam and waves on the suddenly interrupted river shining in the moonlight. We were heading straight for it. I goaded further my three companions, but already we were level with the huge hips squashing the river bank, a tuft of shiny hair visible on top of tall dark hill. Ahead the river was fighting its way through a dam of floating dreadlocks longer than the woman arms, and much longer than our boat. It was as if we were meeting a lazy kraken in a choppy sea. The flow was indeed getting choppier. The boat came to a near stop with a thud. Yana was nearly projected out of her low seat. We’d just hit one of the huge logs of hair that covered the current. The craft started to rotate wildly, pushing away the sudden obstacle. I could well see now more strands obstructing the way, gently being piled up by our advance. They were all drifting towards the outstretched arm. I looked at Yana, and plunged my paddle in the dark water. The current had brought our skiff to a near 90 degree angle with the river. We could hear the dull sound of the dreadlocks bumping into the flank of the catamaran, like vast crocodiles coming for a taste of us.

Slowly, very slowly, we began to angle our boats towards the bank, little duck toys struggling in the vast triangular trap between the high wall of the giantess body and her outstretched arm, lost in a floating landscape of hair. The Bermuda Triangle did come to my mind for some silly reason.

She was well asleep. The slow snoring sound of a dozing dragon could be heard coming from the dark shape. These babies have a sound sleep, it seemed. Behind me Jack was pushing angrily against the dreadlocks (nearly as big as pipe-lines) , and every rattling of his wooden instrument against the edge of the boat was a torture. We’d come to accept the large eardrums of the giantesses probably did not catch sharp sounds too well, but that was hardly a consolation.

The arm was coming closer, and the first heavy dreadlocks were already coming in contact with it, piling against the dark skin. Our boat was now moving towards the other bank, but we were still going forward.
 “We’re going to make it . Just keep going” said Yana. I glanced at her and saw my own fear reflected in her darkened eyes.
The arm was near us now, a long wall across the river . The hand itself was under the water. We were coming straight on top of it. I could only guess we’d be passing just above the palm. There was no helping it, the current was just too strong. Hopefully it was deep enough. I could see the first canoes freeing themselves from the long dreadlocks and moving into free water. They had passed without problem over he submerged hand. I don’t think any of us had been breathing for the passed three minutes. On our right, gliding past us, the vast length of the giantess ‘arm was like a pontoon for us to land onto. “We’re going to make it” I thought to myself, wiping away the sweat from my eyebrows. That’s when I saw the other catamaran in perdition in the middle of all the hair, drifting happily towards the out-stretched arm, in spite of the frantic paddling of its occupants….

A terrible grating noise came from under our boat. We were touching something. The boat reeled as it hit the invisible obstacle. The grating noise rattled along our flat keel. Fingernails. We were touching the woman’s fingernails under the water. Our cargo, on the central beams we had built between the two canoes had lowered us in the water far moer than our companions. The contact on the fingertips was light but nearly brought us to a halt. The grating eventually stopped as we passed over the fingers. My heart was in my throat. This was insane, suicidal. We should have landed earlier. The lightning flashes showed the pale and tense face of my companions. Far away, the first canoes were already negotiating the next turn of the river. None of them had remained around to wait for us and I can’t blame them.

Next to us now the face of the giantess was turned towards the sky. We could see its profile even in the darkness following the flashes. Her eyes were closed all right. She had a beautiful face with high cheeks, and full lips. Her dark skin shone in the rain, and a rivulet of rainwater had formed from the corner of her lips down to her long throat. In the water, more hair was floating, like algae in the Sargasso Sea. We pushed it aside with our paddle, afraid we’d catch one and pull on it. If the weather was no concern to the giant woman, an untimely pulling of hair could very well disturb her dreams (do these creatures dream? I wonder).

I turned round to check on the last boats. A few kayaks and canoes were just behind us, their occupants slowly paddling, their eyes riveted on the woman’s face. I realized the second catamaran was not visible. Jack was watching too, a frozen statue in the rain, his paddle in mid air, his neck craned towards the rear. He looked at me, and shook his head. Wherever they were, by now they’d be real close to the arm that had crossed our way. Behind the slanted slope of the massive fore-arm, a tiny yelp suddenly pierced the air. They were in contact. A tremor shook the gigantic body, and it seemed the whole bank was rising in the air, like a dark wave. The woman had felt the touch of the little boat, and was readjusting her position. The high breasts rose in the darkness, her chest and belly rolling towards us, as she positioned herself on her side. I stared anxiously at her face as it turned in our direction, the eyes still closed. The arm was rising out of the water too, an instant waterfall pouring from it, onto the skiffs.
The hand itself had emerged, toppling a canoe, and flying low over the water, and came in our direction, like a hovering truck. “Duck” We flattened ourselves in the canoes, as the black mass passed over us. It landed with a splash in the river twenty feet from us, forming a sudden wall just in our path. The motion of the head had removed a lot of the hair from the water and the current took again its grip on our vessels. “Left, go left!!” I shouted to Yana and my friends. A vast open palm was waiting for us, again,  vertically poised against the current.

We paddled frantically, but our weird configuration made the ship so unwieldy. Before we could do anything the tip of my canoe hit the fleshy obstacle. I could feel the heat of it already on my face.  Then the rest of skiff went bumping into the massive thumb. Lightning struck a pole just ahead of us on the opposite bank. The eyes of the woman had just opened.

It’s hard to remember exactly what happened. It was dark, rainy, noisy. And it’s all lost in the adrenaline rush that overtook us. The hand suddenly disappeared, leaving our skiff picking up the current again. “Go, go!!!” shouted Yana. We grabbed our paddles and dip them frenetically in the water. Next to us a humongous black shape was rising out of the bank, as the giantess raised herself on her elbow. We could hear the bank crumble under the weight, loud splashes coming from whatever was falling in the river. As she started sitting on the bank, the massive legs  came into view again. The feet were dragging in the water, and I saw a large wave front rushing to us.
“Brace yourselves!!”

The wave hit us just as were turning in the current, suddenly lifting us up a good six feet. I heard cracks and the structure of our little catamaran broke apart, leaving us two individual canoes dragging the long planks along our sides. We started to rotate madly.
“Grab the barrels!! “ I shouted, already throwing mine overboard. “Jump out!!” Behind me I heard Jack splashing in the river, making the canoe suddenly dip my end. Cold water entered, blocking my breathing for a second. Yana and Frank were already in the water. Another wave was coming.
In the dark landscape, I could still see the four last remaining canoes, bright colored spots, tossed around in the current, full of screams. “Jump! Jump!! You idiots!!”

Above us a monumental shape had risen, blotting out the sky, a vast black form illuminated by sheet lightning. Her hips were an easy 200 feet above, and as she started to crouch, the long dreadlock came swinging over our heads like a second night. Eyes nearly my size were shining, reflecting the madness of the sky . And the white crescent of her teeth provided us with another moon. Bobbing and struggling in the current, I had a glimpse of tree-trunks-like fingers picking up the first raft. It rose in the air, water dripping in the rain. The usual insane giggle of joy boomed above us, punctuated by the storm thunder. The giantess brought the skiff to her lips and a horrible slurping noise ensued. She was slurping the man in the kayak (his legs probably stuck in the mess inside) just as one would slurp on an oyster in its shell. The empty kayak fell down from the sky, as she swallowed her tiny midnight snack.

The second kayak was a bright yellow, a perfect beacon. Inside a screaming Cassie had lost her paddle. Cassie had been with us for the past three months. The Filipino girl had been the center of our social life, so to speak, with her unfatigable energy and good mood. She’d be the one to choose the yellow kayak: she just would not be joining us in the doom and gloom of our predicament. I saw her attempting to extract herself from the boat, even as she was lifted between two massive fingers. The giantess hauled her overhead and started to shake the tiny boat over her wide opened mouth. In the lightning flash, I just had a glimpse of Cassie’s body falling on a vast elongated tongue. A shrill scream, and then a chomping noise, as she was chewed to pieces by the woman. A sound of satisfaction and glee escaped from the huge throat.

My head kept going under water. i kept swallowing it. With the heavy rain, I hardly knew when was under or when I was floating. Each time I was back to the surface, it took me a few moments to get my bearings. At least the current was telling me where not to go. I got rid of the light rucksack I had, trying to let myself be caught as much as possible by the current. A hundred feet from me, the second catamaran was still holding its shape, and our four companions were trying to avoid the ankle of the giantess. The ankle rose, revealing the long foot of the black woman. A huge toe landed delicately on the tip of the skiff, making its rear rise above water. Wild shouts came from the occupants. The giantess gave a brief laugh, and poised her foot just on top of our friends, and slowly pressed them under water. She kept them like this for a few seconds. I could imagine them pressed into the inside of the canoes, a ceiling of wet flesh imprisoning them, while the water flooded the narrow compartment. The leg went finally ankle deep in the water, the boats under the sole squished deep into the silt below.

The giantess turned her attention to the last kayak. I saw a flash of color on my right. Yana. I swam desperately in her direction. Her head was well above water, she was swimming fiercely in my direction too.
“Take it off!!” I screamed. “Take it off!!”

She kept swimming towards me. Above a scream pierced the thunderous blackness. I looked up just in time to see a minuscule form being lowered towards the vast hips. It was too dark to see anything, but I had an idea of where it was going. These creatures are sure practical-minded, they never lose an opportunity for fun…. I reached Yana at last. “Take it off, take it off now!” She grabbed my shoulders, her face a mask of sheer panic. She just would not hear me. The current was dragging us, and half the time our heads were under water. I pulled Yana to me, dropped under water, my hands all over her body. (She must have thought I was a hell of a pervert to take advantage of her at a time like this) . In absolute darkness, I got to the buttons of her life- jacket, in the last few seconds of oxygen left in my lungs, I fumbled madly at them. I came back to the surface, freed a hand, and grab my knife, before going under, feeling Yana’s struggling body above me. I cut through the straps and yanked hard on the life jacket. When I came back to the surface, the bright orange vest was floating away from us.
Two seconds later a vast hand came looming upon us. It passed over our swimming form and went straight for the life jacket. The huge fingers lifted it out of the water. A second later, a grunt came from above and the little object was discarded.

The vast body advanced on us, truck-sized feet lifting above water, sheets of water pouring from its massive toes before they crashed back into the current. The right foot descended just 10 feet from us. Above the huge legs passed over us like vertical trains. The huge (and generous) ass of the woman was poised hundreds of feet above, her back a mess of long hanging dreadlocks. She kept advancing further downstream, towards the turn of the river. We were nothing but tiny black specks to her, in a black river of ink. I don’t think she could have found us, even in a clear night. I felt a hand on my shoulder, along with a labored breathing. Jack had joined us. He grabbed Yana’s arm, and the two of us started to swim towards the shore, supporting our friend.

We reached a silt covered bank, just as a disappointed giantess came walking back. I pushed Yana into the muddy beach, and we frantically covered each other in dark mud, before crawling to ward the tree line. Behind us, the giantess was pushing her fingers in the water, in the hope maybe to catch some swimming stragglers. In the near total darkness of the forest, we started to run, our arms outstretched, banging into trees, slashing our faces against low blanches and bushes….

………………………………………………………………………………….

The morning after was dedicated to finding our gear. Most of our barrels had drifted and landed on the shore. Those that landed on the other bank were recovered with the remaining canoes. Our companions, those who had been lucky enough to avoid the giantess, had managed to hide downstream, and a lot of our stuff was salvaged. Still, seven  of us had found their death in the nightmare.
The giantess was nowhere to be seen, in the bright and clean morning that followed the storm. We could see from afar the deep gashes her feet had created in the banks of the river, but it made sense to think of her as gone to better pastures, the nearest town for instance…

Yana was shaken by the ordeal, as we were all. But there was a tacit pact between us all about mopping. Crying for the lost ones is normal. And more than normal, it’s cathartic and healthy. Yet it is a private grief, and most of us avoid too much exhibition of feelings within the group. We acknowledge their departure with a symbolic tomb, myself giving once more the awkward parting speech,  now sadly a fairly routine matter.

We moved on, not waiting for the night. No point hanging around a region we knew was infested with giantesses. Keeping within the woods allowed us good cover , if slow progress.

The only incident of the day was this small clearing in the wood, surrounded by smashed trees. In the middle of it, a brown mound was crying for our attention, a dreadful sign of their activities. We passed as far away as we could.

Such signs of biology are disturbing, and god knows we keep meeting those. Hell, the whole mankind has to cope with those. Giantesses, for all their mystery and insane impossibility, are being like all beings. What comes in comes out. Their less than elegant traces are always a sharp reminder of our current condition. Food we are to them, and as food we are processed in their giant intestines till the final outcome. Meeting one of these huge heaps of shit is always a shock. It’s like stumbling on an open mass grave. Since their arrival, no records exist of the giantesses feeding on anything else but humans, another proof of their specific design, in many people’s opinion. And it takes a lot of people to create the big mounds.
I still remember with disgust the sight I once saw in a big city, where a blond and angelic looking giantess was taking a crap in the middle of the street, in front of the very people she was busy ingesting. Those latter had no illusion left about their fates….

That night is the night we made love for the first time. Yana and I had decided to scout for a decent clearing or trench to set camp. We found it after one hour of circling the place where the group was staying, apathetic and exhausted. (We always have our GPS with us, getting lost is not an issue). We found eventually a suitably spot. I had sat against a trunk, in a puddle of light created by  peaceful rays of sun that were cutting through the foliage. Yana sat next to me, and we stayed there for a while, listening to the birds and taking in the quietness of the forest. I gave Yana my water bottle. I was happy then, with this sudden and near obscene happiness that comes after a catastrophe, when you realize you’re still alive to see the world. My shoulder was touching Yana’s and for all I cared, the world was turning properly again. I felt a tug on my sleeve, and instinctively reached out to get the bottle back from her. What I got instead was a stronger tug, and the sudden vision of Yana’s face coming closer to my own. Before I could register anything, her lips were pressing on mine, and an embracing pull was turning me around against her.
I must have stayed dumb for a second or two, ‘cos she moved her face away from me for a second, a serious look on her face. I know I’m dumb. I don’t look it, but I am. I’m so damn slow when it comes to this. I just stared at Yana as if she had turned into a giantess. “Yana…” She put her fingers on my lips, smiled, and replaced it with her lips again (and a tongue that did not take no for an answer). I could feel her body pushing against mine, her smell permeating my breathing. I did get it after an extra microsecond of wonderment and when I did, a wave of heat just overtook my whole being, submerging the world, the giantesses, and all the horrors of the past days.
The goofy face I exposed to the group one hour later must have been quiet obvious, judging by the few smiles I got from some of our companions.

Later during the evening, our radio picked up the information the whole planet had been waiting for: the first sighting of the fall of a giantess.

Tbc

nostromo

I cannot find any limits to her body. Nor can I have enough of it. As my hands caress the soft skin, exploring the never-ending contours, following their long journey along the thighs. I get lost in the contemplation of the vulva that is looming above , ready  to crush me. The canopy  of her great body is covering me in its shadow, as she starts leaning down on me, two perfect breasts hanging beyond the  smooth flat stomach. Her labia are so close now I can see nothing else, being all i ever want to see. I nearly brace my self when her wetness comes crushing on me. And I sure gasp when I feel my tool engulfed down below in the wet embrace of her mouth. In the next few minutes, Yana is just as large as the world, and no giant girl could ever compete with her for sheer adoration.

When we're both finally spent on the soft grass of our little hidden niche, she snuggles into my arms, as I cover her with the rough fabric of my coat. I have made love before. And am no noob at the games we play. Yet it is with undiluted wonder that I labor to get my breath back. Making love is one thing, making love to her is just beyond words to me.
 I guess we're in love. That's a pretty much established fact by now. No matter how hard I pinch myself, her warm and  strong body just refuses to disappear in the proverbial puff of smoke. To me, this is just as remarkable as the existence of the giant women that plague our days. But neither Yana nor the giantesses  seem willing to vanish into the blaring of an annoying alarm clock. This is as real as it gets, the bliss and the horror.

This has brought the entire journey North into a very different perspective. I have been, for lack of reason and luck, so much in contact with the beautiful predators, I had almost accepted than one day, one of them would eventually make me her little snack. I have even fantasized about the sudden pressure of her enormous fingers on my hips or legs, the quick ascension to the luscious lips. I have many time pondered about the screaming sensation of the fall within her throat to the waiting furnace of her stomach.  I knew I was taking insane risks at times, and I knew i was living on borrowed time.

Yana's presence has changed my views on such situations. The huge woman hunting out there are now longer just the possible reason of my untimely death, they are also a threat to the girl I love, and their hunger the probable end of this budding relationship. Now, whenever I meet one of them, strolling around, her eyes scanning the ground for food, her feet squashing screaming heaps of metal under their soles,  I feel the hate raging inside, and more importantly, I feel the fear. The fear that this girl there, projecting her shadow on half a city , could be just looking to finish off my love.
What was a desperate game among the ruins of our shattered world, a hopeless and daily gamble, full of thrills and adrenalin, and yes, sometimes excitement, is now a far more serious challenge. I want to live now more than ever in my life before. I want Yana to live, and the video-game quality of this absurd catastrophe has been replaced by a despair far more poignant than our usual little heroics.

....................................................................................................

The little people in the shattered metallic cylinder are screaming of course. What else can you do? The girl has short blond hair, a boyish cut, and it highlights her soft face and long neck beautifully. Her smile is lovely, pierced by the whiteness of her perfect teeth. She's reclining on the tarmac, while her feet, a good 400 feet farther, have dug long trenches in the airport lawn. Her body is impossibly pale, reflecting the light of the high noon sun. The other girl is more athletic, her tanned body in sharp contrast against hers. Her curly dark hair is flowing over the milky skin of her lover. She's latino looking, her lips full and her eyes as dark as night. She also harbor a beatific smile. One notices at a glance she's about half the size of the pale girl, and her hands are stroking legs that could easily pin her to the ground, in spite of her stockier body. Between them, the plane is lost in their shadows, its wings nicely clipped off, and now the simple and handy receptacle for the tinnies inside.

We had planned all along to get to the airport. None of us know how to pilot anything, but this did not seem enough to deter us from going there, in the hope a survivor there would indeed be able to lift some of us to safety.  It was a plan as good as any, and I was adamant we should try before moving on to other options. We arrived just in time for the carnage.

Judging by the smoking pile of debris down the runway, the plane had indeed attempted to lift off or to land today, in broad daylight. What the hell were these people thinking? It's not a little private jet, easily scrambled for emergency, it's a liner (I've no clue which type, mechanical prowesses being the least of my interests), containing a good fifty people. Were they on a super important mission, warranting this reckless move? Were they forced to land prematurely due to some mechanical problem? We don't know really. We heard the commotion, saw the billowing smoke rising, and had cautiously reached the top of the near-by hill to investigate. The five of us scouts are now watching the scene in our binoculars, hapless witnesses of this drama.

Sky-scrappers were always good at giving you a real sense of scale whenever dwarfed by the humongous bodies walking among them. Planes do a pretty good job too. To the two giantesses reclining on the tarmac, the liner looks like a toy, and the fingers of the blond girl are wrapped nicely around the metallic tube. It does look as if the flight or landing has been brutally curtailed. The nose part of the plane is somewhere on the lawn next to the girls, either ripped of by the shock of the interception, or manually removed by them. Inside the habitat, people are screaming. I can see them as they move by the windows. In the distance, the airport buildings look crumpled and bare. I'm sure a satellite view of them would reveal the exact foot steps of the giantesses among the ruins.

The two girls are enjoying the sun, and I can feel myself my back roasting in the sunlight, sweat pouring down my shoulder blades. Next me, Yana often wipes away her brow, before resuming her observation. The blond girl is also enjoying the attention of a more diminutive friend. The little hands keep stroking the vast breasts, as the latino girl kneels between the large thighs that dwarf even her. Once in a while she applies her belly to the Venus mound of her large lover, in a motion that brings moans to the  jean Seberg look-alike. The blond girl bring the plane over her belly. She  gives it a little shake. Like pepper grains , some wriggling shapes fall onto the pale skin, some directly into the navel. I see a man struggling at th bottom of the near vertical cylinder, his arms probably wrapped around a safety belt while the girl smiles at him shaking the plane to make let go. He obligingly does so, and the girl's smile stretches gain when she feels his body landing on her belly.

The latino girl between her thighs is delighted too. She grabs a running form and hold it close to her eyes, babbling her insane language. She winks at the blond Swedish-looking girl, who laughs and opens her mouth. It takes some targeting and much laughter before the brunette launches the man towards the  wide open maw.  I can hear him scream easy enough. He bumps just below the lower lip, his body dropping into the giantess neck and towards her breasts. The brunette leans forward, crushing two men under her own breasts into the soft pale skin while doing so, and takes him again in her fingers. The guy must be seriously stunned, yet  can see his legs struggling. This time he lands on the girl's nose, and she just has time to catch him in her hand, with a laugh, before dropping him into th brunette's hand again. The third time is the good one. The guy howls with fear (and rage I'm sure at being used so), as he dives into the red cavern, passed the beautifully kept teeth. The receiving girl is surprised and closes her mouth shut immediately. She obviously got him straight in the throat, and has swallowed him instantly. She looks amused, opens wide and show the other a vast and empty tongue. Much giggling and clapping ensues. This is so much fun. The latino girl has already caught a woman and is aiming cautiously.

I look at Yana, next to me and see the tears flowing gently down her cheek. On the binoculars, her fingers joints are white. I gently lower her instruments and she turns red eyes in my direction. I just nod to her to go back to the others. She nods back, sniffles, and starts descending the hill back. The rest of us, just keep watching. Whatever is in that plane could be useful.

The woman is screaming even louder than the previous guy, as she flies towards the large moist tongue stretched out to receive her. We see her bumping into the face, falling down on the breasts. Screaming again, falling again. By the fifth trip , when she finally enters the cavern, we do not hear anything. She must have been dead or unconscious. The blond girl smiles, seems to slurp on the little body (I can see two feet fleetingly appearing between the large lips), then swallows happily.

She grabs a man who'd been dumb-stricken in her navel. To her the guy is so tiny, much more so than for the latino girl. For this latter, the snack is definitely more consistent and she opens a greedy toothy mouth for him. The vaster girl just position him above the twitching tongue and, after amusing herself at his flaying legs and high-pitch cries, let go of him. The brunette receives him , closes her mouth and noisily suck on his body. She fetches him out once or twice, to dangle him over her head, with a giggly comment. When she lowers him fully  into her mouth, she keeps his ankles between her fingers as she chomps his legs off.... I hear a gasp near me. We're not all immune to this gruesome show. Finally, after much chewing , the girl pops the legs into her mouth and swallows her prize.

The “Swedish” girl  is bringing the plane again. As she does so, a tiny figure flies out and falls down, on her hip first, then on the tarmac a few meters below. He no longer moves, probably broke his back, I think to myself.  Yet I see his arm rising up as a tiny motion from the giant girl makes her buttock roll over him. He squishes like a grape under the girl, who hasn't even noticed.
She's too busy shaking the container again. I guess the poepl inside have braced themselves fro the motion,as nothing comes out but a few suitcases that rebound on the elastic skin. A pout of disappointment comes to the large lips. The girl brings the cylinder to her face and peers inside.  Can only imagine the vision of this gigantic blue yes,  suddenly replacing the cockpit , and peering at you, as you hang on to your seatbelt. A clamor comes from the inside of the plane.

She now start peeling off nicely the cylinder itself, as one would roll away the skin of a banana, or opening a sardine can .  Can see clearly the passengers still sitting there, as the walls around them disappear under the pressure of the huge fingers. The latino girl offers to help apparently. She more nimble fingers. She rps the sits one by one and let them on the belly of the other woman. The passengers, still tangled in the belts are trying frantically to free themselves, only to find themselves kneeling on the warm skin, under the vast smiles of the their tormentors. I notice fleetingly that a lot of them seem to be military personal. I make a mental note of that. It is obvious this plane was moving in daylight for a reason. When a few people have been extracted, the girls leave the plane alone, and return their attention to their catch of the day. The larger one picks up a sit with its passenger still attached. She gobble the whole lot and proceed to noisily chew the man and the sit . She's not a connoisseur, just a hungry girl.

The latino woman has grabbed a fugitive, and is now lowering him towards the vast crotch of her lover. I watch her fingers gently stroking the large labia, already wet from their earlier foreplay. The little guy should probably start watching his life passing in front of his eyes now, but  I suspect the sight of the vast rosy and fleshy folds coming to him are keeping his attention focused. The smaller girls struggles a bit against the wet flesh in her effort to open it up fully. A very different cavern starts opening up now, abut the dark inside is just as ominous than the large mouth that consumed the earlier victims. She starts pushing the man into the whitish pool that has gathered at the base of the opening vagina. When she's satisfied his body is nicely lubricated, she forces him inside, pushing her finger fully  into it. A gasp of pleasure and delighted surprise escapes the lips of the blond woman.

Already her friend is separating a passenger from his seat. His screams lasts for a few seconds as he sees the throbbing hole hes' been directed to.  His legs are introduced first and I see his tiny arms beating against the fingers of his captor. He looks so insignificant a speck against the rosy landscape of tortuous folds that begins to swallow him. I guess his confusion must have been total when an another big mass of flesh descended upon him to push him deeper inside. The latino girls is tonguing him deep into the hole now. Her position is near comical, dwarfed as she is by the large thighs around her, her ass proudly lifted towards us, as she busies herself against labia nearly as big as her own face. The screams disappear quickly and she returns her attention to the lower belly of her giant friend to get another one. The guy trying to hide in the blond pubic hair, is just what she's looking for.

It really is a problem. I have seen this before. The Kink is one of the good old constants of our new world. Nowadays, a miscalculation in your movements, some bad luck and you either get gulped down, squished under sole or drowned in vaginal fluids. This is now a given for the entire human race. That is, if hunger and disease and gun fire haven't finished you off before. We do not live peaceful times. Yet, despite the horror, the Kink is indeed a fascinating show. I'm sure I'm not the only one, whose carnal instincts have been stirred by the sheer beauty of the giantesses, no matter how cruel they seem to us. I remember the early days, when the Event had started, but not yet bloomed into its full potential. When what we had was a bunch of beautiful young women sleeping on top of our towns, in their glorious nakedness. Th excitement that followed the Event wasn't entirely intellectual, for a good half of the human population. The jokes had flourished, the pics taken over the net, hell, many attempts took place at that time, by many imbeciles, to reach the “privates zones”, as they were called. Hell, how many soldiers, assigned to the safe-keeping of the giantesses lower regions had filled their dreams with this impossible intercourse. Well, it did not take long before intercourse and other sexual encounter became part of the menu imposed on us by the now active beauties. So how do we cope with that?

I watch the third guy being stroked to death against an enormous engorged clitoris, while bellowing moans of pleasure shake the silent airport. I watch him feebly fight the motion that crushes him into the hot wet flesh that he used to crave for  as a teenager and then a man. To him, biology has becomes a larger than life lesson, as he became an anonymous  dildo  in the fingers of two excited girls. I feel the stirring of my own manhood, pressed against the hard ground, as I watch the delicious murder taking place in front of me. I do not want to enjoy it. I do not want to draw joy from this. I avert my eyes. Down the hill behind me, I see Yana talking to the others. I come back to reality, as if receiving a sudden cold shower. This is love, real love, the way we're meant to have it. I take my binoculars again. But not before noticing the redness on my companion's face near me. Hell, what's happening to all of us, that we come to enjoy the very creatures that kill us? I come back to the show just in time to see the little woman inserting a shreaking soldier girl into her pussy. There's s less room obviously, more struggle, and more enjoyment apparently.

We keep station near the wood that surrounds the airport. The Kink went on for hours. There was indeed a lot of personnel in that flight. We watched as the giant blond girl leaned against the smaller one, arousing her and playing with her, returning the favor. They gulped down the remaining passengers lazily, lying on their back across the runways,  the now fully opened plane between them, chatting the evening afternoon away, while taking their victims in their mouth as so many grains of popcorn. Many of them got caught in the wild French kisses that the girls exchanged now and then, many of them left red smear marks between their breasts and belly. A few disappeared in a place where the sun never shines, their last prayers lost among laughters and moans.

What are they possibly thinking these impossible tourists on our little planet? What are they talking about , between their mouthfuls of people, and their murderous sex rumps? Here we are, a gang of about a hundred people today,  shivering with fear in the woods as we observe the two women enjoying their vacation. How more absurd is this whole thing going to be? It is common knowledge now that whatever they say is probably trivial. Unless the recordings and subsequent computer analysis totally miss subtle variations in tone inflexion and phoneme distribution, the alien language used by the giantesses does not seem to be able to carry enough permutations to allow a vast vocabulary and ponderous significance. We are left to hypothesize that indeed the communication among them is minimal, probably just about covering their areas of interest, such as food taste, sexual positions and giving directions for fruitful hunting. The giantesses appear to be happy, not because they are submitting our world, but because their needs are easily fulfilled by simple tasks. Whoever or whatever sent them to destroy us, did not see the need to provide their instruments with more than a basic intelligence. The giantesses' good mood is about the most infuriating characteristic their possess.

We do recover a man from the wreckage. He was simply hiding in one of the toilets, covered under safety  vests. A simple plan and one that paid. He's shaking like a leaf, totally shocked. Yana is escorting him outside now, to get looked after by our few nurses. It is strange to walk in the plane. It is empty of people now. I saw them all being dispatched, one after the other , in hunger or lust. Suitcases and stuff hang from lockers. The stars are shining upon the desolation, through the opened-up roof. I pass my torchlight upon every corner of the wreck. (Its beam is red, as we suspect this is less noticeable to them  ). I do find a strange suitcase, metallic and battered nevertheless, with a military sign engraved on it. Following my hunch , I order two of my guys to get it open. In the back of the plane I find a pile of plane meals, neatly covered in cellophane. Somewhere in this country, the conveniences of living are kept alive it seems.

Later that night the suitcase is finally opened. It contains a series of jelly-looking blocks in a transparent wrapping. The items next to it are roundish and have wires coming from them. I'm no engineer, but it does not take long before I figure out these things are explosives. Considering the risks taken to carry that stuff to its unknown destination ( the man we found is not aware of the significance of the flight it seems, but I have a feeling he's not telling everything...), they are probably not just explosives either. I can't help letting a grin come upon my face.
But now, Yana is tugging at my arm. She wants us to get going. She's right of course. I look at her and marvel at my good luck, in the midst of this insanity. Hell, I haven't spent the day watching the Kink , without getting a few ideas of my own.... I follow her outside the wreckage.

Tbc

nostromo

The scream is hardly leaving her lips that the enormous mass sets down on her running form. She disappears under the massive foot, as easily as a speck of dirt. Around the base of the foot, a cloud of dust explodes and settles down again. The huge leg far above continues its tremendous motion, carrying the vast expanse of the giantess’ body. Thighs that could break through a building show the rosy skin of young woman, the muscles lightly bulging under the movement. An ass that could flatten a parking lot travel far above, displacing air and sending a flock of pigeons into a wild swirl. Even further up, the long black mass of her long black hair is whooshing heavily, like a maddening curtain. The heavy breasts hardly balance at all, kept in place by their own tremendous weight.
The woman did not even notice the life she just extinguished in a casual step. 

I know she’s very pretty (aren’t they all?) because I’ve seen her coming for a few miles already. Her slender body is well tanned by the hard sun, and shows no blemishes whatsoever. She entered town in a leisurely stroll, flattening innumerable cars and even buses with total indifference. Each of her steps sends a tremor that rumbles in my stomach.  She walks between two high buildings, made dull by their broken window panes. She leans casually against one of them, around the twentieth floor, and lifts her foot to dislodge some piece of junk stuck between two toes. I cannot even see the red spot the running girl must have left under the darkened sole. I know it’s there, a whole existence blotted out and smeared under the wrinkled skin, a mere thing among other things. No traces of her, totally erased from  this world. The power it takes to reduce a human being to the totally inconsequential measure of a dirt speck is just maddening. This enemy we face is so overwhelming as to nearly convince you your life is indeed absolutely ridiculous.

Her hand has gone through half of the building, in her effort to sustain her balance. Thousands of shards of glass fall in a crashing din around her poised ankle, as she considers the under-sole of her lifted foot. I see the building sway madly on its foundations, the floor above crying out to collapse further now. When the hand leaves the gutted floors, there is a second or two when the collapse seems imminent. It stays that way. The young woman has resumed her walking; her thigh is brushing against the windows high above sending more debris flying in the air.

A passing car is coming to a screeching halt in a nearby street. Guess the onboard GPS is not calibrated to detect this type of obstacle.  The crowd ahead of the giantess is running in absolute panic. The car is trying to turn into the crowd and is inevitably sending a few bodies flying. Any other day, the guy would have been lynched for this reckless behaviour. The giantess has seen it and is lowering a immense body to grab it. Her fingers are long and feminine with nicely manicured nails. I see the man in the car desperately trying to get out of the vehicle, fumbling with his safety belt. On his windshield, the blood of the last person he crashed in is leaving tiny rivulets. Before he makes it out , the large fingers set themselves around the metallic habitat, pressing the doors in. The car is lifted in the air with its tiny occupant. I walk along walls, coming closer to the scene. I can’t get enough of the tremendous sight of this gigantic feminine body blocking out the sky far above us. It’s fascinating to the extreme, even in the midst of all the dangers.

The car is lifted high in the air, till its windshield faces the immense brown eyes of the giantess. She peers into it for a while, a glum smile on her lips, before starting to shake it to get the man out. I can’t see much, but I can well imagine, the guy inside, tumbling through the habitat, his body thrown over the seats, against the windows, bruising and screaming. After a few tries, the girl is disappointed. The man just won’t come out. She pouts. And I see a cloud of anger coming over her eyes. The fingers start pressing on the car as she closes her hand. Screeching noises come out on the now clenching fist, as she reduces the car and the man inside to a bloody wreck. A second later, the metallic remains, fall from the sky and crash onto the street, rolling against the nearest wall with a loud bang. The girl is turning her attention back to the running crowd below her. One step and five people at least just vanish  under the foot that squeezes even a groan from the tarmac.

Why don’t they all try and escape in the buildings? I think to myself. I suppose clear thinking is not the main attribute of a frenzied mob. More people disappear under the next step. As I follow her, stumbling in the wreckage left behind, among the dead bodies and broken cars,  I get the ample vision of her back, muscular and lean, her vertebra slightly showing towards the place they reach the hollow of her waist. The huge ass comes down toward me and the street as she once again leans forward. Each cheek is a monument of flesh, smooth, and round and unstoppable. I see her womanhood between them, a cleft large enough to swallow a Buick. She’s well shaven down there, definitely an enticing sight. She has found more accessible targets in the running crowd, and her long fingers pick up random fugitives, gathering them in her left hand. When she has five of them in her half opened palm, she straightens up and leans again against a low building, her ass crushing the roof, surrounded by a sudden dust cloud. The building also resists (they do build well in this part of the country, it seems). I watch her face, as she seems to gauge her surroundings, while sucking on a squirming form, absent-mindedly. In her hand, shrieks keep erupting from the next snacks.

The girl is distracted by the landscape, and it’s a good thing, as I try to blend into the wall near me, as her gaze passes back through the street behind her. The man in her mouth is no longer visible, unless you consider this slight bulge on her cheek as the presence of a man. When this bulge travels down the long well-defined throat, it probably still is man, but once it disappears beyond the shoulder blades, whatever is left of him is just a struggling piece of food in the monstrous stomach. This man did not expect this I’m sure, when he awoke today, took his breakfast, read the latest news. To suddenly end your life in the warm, dark inside of young woman’s belly, a mere thing to digest, isn’t exactly something even the paranoid media prepare you for.

For a second I shudder, as it seems she’s looking down straight at me, lying there at her feet in the recess of a broken wall. But the split second of fear is gone, when she lazily turn her attention to the horizon, while depositing the screaming form of a woman on her out-stretched tongue. She starts chewing this one, as she comes forward again and resumes her strolling. I have a feeling I know where she’s going and I angle my course through adjacent streets to try and cut her path near the beach. Of course, she’s going at the speed of a train compared to my awkward run. But she also takes a lot of pauses to gather munchies. I don’t even look for her shoulders over the near buildings; I can just follow the screams of the people, and the crashing sound of her feet.

By the time I get to the beach, beyond the ugly tall; buildings that have long disfigured the scenery, she’s already well in the water. I see her back moving away from me, through the massive gash she has created in the range of buildings. Floors are opened to the winds, showing the innards of the hotel, the rooms hanging roofless, wall-less, the furniture hanging from the splintered beams. I have to walk around the base of the destroyed seaside accommodation to get to the front boulevard. Around me people are screaming, crying and generally speaking, panicking, all going away from the path the woman has traced through the sea-side resort. I, like a lunatic, a mad man, a suicidal maniac, keep going against the flow. I don’t care what could happen really, I’ve seen this before, I’m willing to live through this, not a screaming victim, but a participant of these insane times. I guess there’s something wrong with me.

This is the second week after the Awakening. A lot of them have started their strange lives among us. Many cities have already crumpled under their hunger. Yet here the phenomenon is still recent. This particular girl has been on the move for two days I hear, leaving being her many preserved cities, as if she was not interested in the slightest in the general mayhem that is slowly erupting all around the planet. I happened to go through this one, as I stupidly decided it was time to make sure my stuff and money were ok in a nearby city. Like everyone else, I’m new to this mess, still enamoured in a way to the giant killers, still in awe of their beauty. But I am  already well aware of the game. It’s going to us or them. They do not seem to take prisoners. All attempts at communication have failed. I have seen armies being wiped out in minutes by their gigantesque feet. I have seen the shells explode on their skins, the flattened carcasses of the tanks. Short of an atomic burst, about everything has been tried today to stop at least one of them. When the bombs will really go off, I do not intend to be there to watch it. But yes, I have been taken unawares in this city, and now I’m following her, like a moth on a light. What is wrong with me indeed?

 I am on the boulevard that separates the beach from the seaside resort. The beach is already a mess, the sand awash with the waves her feet have created in the ocean. I watch her, as she walks away towards to deep. She’s hundreds of yards away, yet the ocean waves break apart just on the upper part of her calves. Behind her, the sea is choppy, the surface white from the sloshing of her passage, like in the wake of some tanker. I walk down to the beach. The large depression in front of me is a picture perfect footprint. I walk into it, taking in the sheer size of the hole she has created under her massive weight. I feel so incredibly negated, diminished, as I stand in the middle of her foot print. A group of onlookers are walking slowly around it, too, new-comers to this sight, and apparently just as stupid as me.  I hear the roar and I scramble out of the hole, just in time to let the wave wash around my legs, filling in a small cataract the deep foot print. Every move she makes out at large is resonating here a minute later. The water is warm enough, and I let the sloshing happen around my thighs. I turn my gaze again towards the sea.

Far away the naked girl is wallowing in the water. She’s in nearly down to her breasts.  I know another wave is going to hit us pretty bad in a minute and I leave the beach to the high parapet of the scenic boulevard. Most people do the same. Out in the ocean, the girl has found a toy to amuse herself, and I watch the little sailing boat cruise desperately in front of the large breasts, its sail floppy in the sudden absence of wind. The young woman is looking down at the tiny passengers we can imagine easily enough on the raft, faced as they are with the sudden tanned cliff in front of them. I remember my binoculars and take them out. They are three people on the boat. I see them struggling against ropes, trying to orient their vessel away from the playful girl in the water. She just pushed a hand under the water behind them, creating a sudden wave that rushes towards the boat, lifts it a good fifteen feet. The boat is bobbing up and down in front of her naked chest, like a rubber duck in a bath tube. The long waves of hair reach down to the water and probably surround the little boat, as the girl bends down and start blowing on the sail. I can well see the three sailors (two women and a guy) hanging to their ropes and mast, caught under the warm gust of breath. Their boat plows its way in the agitated waters. Well, at least, the blowing is taking them away from the massive wrecking balls of the huge breasts. (On the beach, more waves are reaching us, crashing on the cement wall that contains the yellow sand, before noisily receding in the perturbed ocean)

The young woman is now fully lying in the water. It actually looks like she’s floating. The water is pretty deep out there (the bay was created, I hear, by a meteoric crash a very long time ago), and the laws of physics apply, even to an impossibly large giantess. Her head is now level with the surface, and I can well see the vast expanse of her hair floating around her. Hundreds of feet behind, the surface of the ocean is broken by the twin domes of her backside, and the powerful trashing of her legs. The girl’s eyes are intent on the boat, and a toothy smile is coming closer to the tiny vessel. We cannot hear anything from where I stand, but the crowd around me is shouting useless warnings to the lost crew.
From the bridge of the sailing boat, the face of the girl is now a threatening-looking wall , and even though the sail is now catching the wind again, it has no visible effect on the unfair chase. The girl lets out a brief giggle when the skiff touches her chin. The chase keeps going, as the young woman blows , and blows, driving the boat back towards us. When the boat tries an escape right or left, it receives a powerful “nudge” from the large hands that push the water beneath, and is oriented back to the “right” path.

Eventually, the boat is entering the shallows and the naked girl behind is no longer able to swim. Screams from the passengers are now audible. They are so close to beach, they can probably even see me and my binoculars, yet they surely know they will never reach us. When the giantess rises again from the ocean, revealing again those impossibly long legs and beautiful body of hers, she takes the boat with her in her hands. I can see the keel of the boat firmly supported in the embrace of the long fingers, gallons of water falling back into the ocean, as the vessel gains in altitude.  One of the passengers (a blond girl, in a flashy bikini) has jumped overboard. A bit late though, as her fall is pretty high, along the tanned thighs of her tormentor. I can hear the splash as she hits the surface. The giant girl has seen her too, and a second later her hand is scooping the ocean and bringing its content to her opening mouth. The bikini woman is drunk along with gallons of salted water.

The vast naked body is again covering the beach in its shadow, as the girl sits now cross legged in the shallows, her prize in her hands, just below her breasts. We hear the mast breaking like a twig as she discards it over her shoulder. On board the doomed vessel, the remaining passengers run to and fro, apparently unable to take the decision to abandon ship. The giant fingers are running along the boat, toppling the little human forms on the bridge. After a few giggles of fun and excitement, the fingers select a victim. The man is hoisted between thumb and forefinger high in the air, and dropped unceremoniously down the opened mouth of the hungry girl. As she closed her eyes, her throat hardly acknowledges his passing through to her inner self.  That seems enough reason for the last girl on board to search for an exit, and we all witness her dive between the giantess thighs.  The giant woman seems surprised, looks at her now empty catch and with a shrug casts the entire vessel over her shoulder, already looking for the fugitive in the water. (A second later we hear the crash of the boat on the waters far away). The booming laughter tells us the sailor girl has survived the dive and is swimming just under the cliff of flesh of the giantess’ abdomen. This latter looks down for a second and applies the palm of her hand on the water between her thighs. She stays in that position for a good minute. What she’s doing is pretty obvious to all…..

I think we all realize at that time how pretty close the whole show has moved to the beach. A general dispersal is taking effect in the crowd that had gathered to look in awe at the naked girl and her oceanic sunbathing. I certainly no longer need the binoculars, mesmerized as I am by the lazy giantess in the bay. I no longer need them again when I feel the girl’s gaze pass over us, come back and somehow focus on me.
I feel a sudden thud in my heart. I am looking at the woman in the ocean, along with a hundred people at least, yet I feel her eyes are just singling me out of the crowd. I  watch in shock as the beautiful lips (that just harboured a living trashing human being a minute ago) seem to address me a personal smile that sends my blood running for cover in my ankles. I stagger back, look at the smiling face again. Hell, this is stupid, she’s just teasing the crowd that had the audacity to come and watch her naval antics. She cannot see me. As I start walking backwards towards the safety of the buildings, I am still petrified and fascinated by the gaze that seem to follow me. A second later that gaze is coming from a few hundreds feet above, as the naked girl has come to her feet and walks again towards the shore, huge waves rushing from her calves. I decide to ignore my seemingly powerful success with blond naked swimmers, and start running back towards the town. I curse myself for this stupid stunt of me, following the girl here) Screams are again heating up the already chaotic landscape in the sea-side district. A long shadow is already over-taking the group I’m running with, sending many of my fellow-snacks to glance back in terror at the coming monster. These confused faces, these screams, this is something I’m familiar with already.

I hear the powerful splashes in the ocean, try and angle my run away from the crowd I was following. (never follow crowds, they are like biscuit promotions in a super market) I decide to follow the boulevard instead, giving up the flight to town where she’s bound to be going again now, after her bath. My lungs are burning, as I sprint along the beach .There are plenty of people she can go for, plenty of places she can walk to. I’d have to be real unlucky to happen to be in her way. I jump over a fence. Look back. This is not my lucky day. Far above, the blue eyes are also definitely looking in my direction. This cannot be. Instead of going toward the running people and their snack-filled buildings where the fun is, the naked girl is walking in my direction, nearly copying my flight along the beach.

I’m at a loss for decisions, no one is going this direction with me. That’s how I’ve avoided trouble so far (stalking the giantesses is also a sick specialty of mine, one that has curiously spared me the trouble of running like a rabbit under fire). I feel a sickening panic enter my already busy mind. Okey. Okey. Where to? The splashing noises are getting real close. I glance back, no longer see the girl. Only huge feet coming forward like out of control trucks , bent on squashing me. The girl is somewhere up there, too high for me to check it out. I suddenly turn left toward the beach again. Jump the parapet again, land in the wet sand. Against the wall, I have to keep against the wall. I throw myself against the base of the stonewall, and frenetically start burying myself into the sand. The huge girl is reaching the beach; I feel the tremor of the massive feet hitting the sand. High above the long thighs are moving in an unstoppable motion in my direction. Streams of water are running down from the wet bush of the girl, her abdomen is squarely facing me, I swear the vast face high above is still looking at me. I throw sand all over me, cowering at the base of the wall. The sand is wet and difficult to gather.  The feet are coming, huge, the toes pointing at me, their threatening soles flying now over the sand before crashing into the beach, creating vast and wet footprints . I watch in terror when the last step brings enormous toes right on top of me. They land in the sand less than ten feet from my lying body. I have stopped breathing, as I watch the impossibly long pillar that dominates me, the mountain of flesh that rests upon  that pillar, and I die inside when I see , far far above the blue eyes that are looking at me.

I nearly gag when the gigantic edifice of flesh seem to collapse upon me, the huge breasts falling in my direction, the vast curtain of black hair dropping towards the ground.  The blue eyes are locked on me, above this horrifying smile. I jump to my feet and start running between the massive feet. Each heel is high above me, as the giantess is crouching down, planting her toes deep in the ground. I have lost the sky, everything above is a complex landscape of skin folds, bulges, hairs, tits. I run deep in the shadow, toward the sea, my ears full of an enormous laughter. I am getting drenched from the sea water raining upon me. I am passing right under the enormous crotch of the young woman, smelling her womanhood, her round buttocks big as houses and hovering a few meters above my head. I can’t believe she has come for me. A vast motion takes place, and I fear she’s just about to sit on me. I feel the air displacement coming from the sudden rise of the large body, from the quickly moving feet that crashes right and left of me. I feel the sun on my face for a second, before the shadow returns. The next moment, two car-size objects run into me on both sides, squeezing the living breath out my lungs, breaking a rib or two, crushing my pelvis, in their hot embrace.the ground disappear under my running feet. I see the ocean fall below me, the waves becoming smaller and smaller. The beach turns in a second in a far away place, the horizon is vast, and getting vaster as I gain the sudden  altitude.

The next second my gaze plunge into the depths of two incredibly large blue orbs, draped in wet and long sword-like eyelashes.  Just in front of me, the full lips are curved into a satisfied smile. I feel the hot breath upon my face, exhaled from the twin caves of her nostrils (I could nearly stand in one). A mole on the left side of her nose is marring the face I thought was so perfect a few moments ago. The hum of pleasure that is thundering in the throat below my feet makes my gut shake. I beat stupidly my tiny little fists against the fingers that hold me. I wish I could say  that I see my life passing in front of my eyes, but my life is just too small a thing compared to the sheer existence of the girl that is eying me, and it doesn’t bother showing up.

“It’s time you and I get to really meet, don’t you think?” comes the incredibly powerful voice.
She slowly lowers me down the full length of her body. I see her throat pass by, her breasts, the plain of her abdomen,  and am left in no doubt whatsoever as to what my fate will be  when I watch the first dark hairs of her bush pass an inch from my face. The place I go is lost in the darkness between her thighs. The ceiling above me is wet, glistening and rosy. The upward motion is driving me straight to flagrant rosy folds that seem to open up to reveal a darker still fleshy cave where my head…. I guess I might as well scream a bit.

“Hush, hush… it’s over. It’s over….You’re here.” Yana is passing her hand on my brow, her face is floating a few inches from mine. She looks worried and asleep at the same time. Outside the night is still dark and I can hear the distant splashes of the ocean waves. I look around me, trying to get my bearing. The cave we sleep in is alive with the breathing of our companions.
I remember that city well, I remember that boat well too. I guess the memory was just waiting for the right time to come and play with my dreams.
“Did I scream?” I ask Yana, who has placed her head on my chest.
“No, you didn’t.” She whispers. “Were you screaming in your dream?”
“…..No, No I wasn’t. Go back to sleep, Yana, we have a long day in front of us.”
Travelling from far away, the tremors of a wandering giantess are just barely felt, through our bed of sand.

Tbc

nostromo

NH part X

They’re having a good laugh at our expense. I find myself staring at the leader, till he averts his eyes. I want to have a good look at his face before I punch a hole in it. Next to me, Yana is sobbing quietly, slumped  in her chair, with her hands tied in the back. Josh and Dylan are not faring much better, especially Josh whose face is just now at the receiving end of the long swing of a hammy fist. He’s thrown down by the shock, toppling his chair in his fall, unable to prevent it. His wrists are bleeding from the rope, in unison with his mouth. More laughter ensues. My wrists are bleeding too, but hell, give me a minute….

It was bound to happen. One cannot live in chaos for ever, and chaos was exactly what the giantesses had brought to the world. Loss of organisation, paralysis of all services, degradation of the communications and transport, famine and diseases, you name it, everything piled up pretty fast after the Awakening, when more than 7000 giant human beings (although I doubt they belong to this category) started to wander the Earth in search of lively, tasty , and running little snacks. In the midst of the panic, and later in the relatively quiet areas left by the desolation and the horror, when the planet really started to empty itself of its dominant species, groups and clans and tribes started to try and rebuilt some pretence of organization. You meet those every now and then along the way, friendly people, scared people, cautious people, and at times, dangerous people.

It was not long either before religious fanatics of all sorts started their “conversion” in the view of the events. It was to be expected too, when so many god-like figures were literally walking the on the surface of the planet. To all of us, first an object of wonder and at times lust, then an object of fear and panic and despair, “they” became an object of worship to some , who were indeed pretty successful in convincing panicky people that the giant woman stalking their town was indeed a Goddess. They strength, power and uncanny beauty was a great argument proving that these beings were here for our sins, or for our salvation, or for the divine plan. Weird sects abounded for a while, revolving around the local giantesses, following them, worshipping them, praying to them. Leaders in cheap theology led their flock towards the hungry girls, singing hymns. Unsurprisingly, a lot of these sects disappeared as fast as they were born, the beautiful women finding them indeed worthy of their “attention”. These groups were always for us a subject of derision and mild sadness. At least, the poor sods died at the hands (or teeth, or butts…) of their “saviours”. I wonder if they found that thought a consolation, when their goddess started to digest them, or suffocated them in their pleasure.

Our scout party, (eight of us, light-footed, experimented and terrain-wise) met such a group this morning. Not the friendly sort, not the mildly stupid, quasi-suicidal sort either. No, the worst type. The well organized type that will indeed worship their goddess while she satisfies herself on the sacrifice of strangers. These fuckers have devolved to such a point they feed their own to the appetite and lust of the vast women. They ambushed us near the dry riverbed that runs into their sick little town. We were easily outgunned. One of us was killed, two of them were too. But hell, they had us, no question about that. We were vigilant and on the look-out for the first signs announcing a giantess (those tremors, the sudden thunderous yawn or giggle, the impossible footsteps…) but did not notice the signs announcing another plague, the evil low-life pieces of shit that strive in the chaos. My wrists are bleeding all right, but I rage so much inside, I hardly notice it….

Their “priest” is an unsightly man, all warts and hair and beard. He looks like the real maniac he is, power-hungry, feeding on the fear of his congregation. The rest of them hardly look human either. Dirty survivors of a dirty war, who choose to love the cause of their misery rather than fight it. I can’t help remembering this “Deliverance” movie I once saw on DVD. They’re dressed in rags, speak in grunts, and carry carefully maintained artillery. I can’t see anything outside, the slit that serves as a window in this bunker of theirs is too high. I know what I’d see, though. I’d see the three other members of our group tied to wooden posts on top of a nearby hill. They are scheduled to be lunch anytime now. That will mark the start of the prayers and whatever orgy they have prepared here for their ritual. The room we’re in is cluttered with various boxes, and racks of guns and pictures of the local giantesses. The filth everywhere is only matched by the stench from our captors.
They have their fun using Josh as a punching ball right now. I look at Yana, who’s trembling like a leaf with fear on her chair. My anger knows no limits. I know it’s a matter of time till one of the savages decides to have his fun with her.

I’ve made a mental plan of the place as, they brought us in. We’re in a sort of low hangar, half buried in the ground. The windows been reduced to slits that look out onto the hill. They like to watch the feast of the Goddess in 16/ 9 format apparently. It’s well camouflaged from the outside and apparently endows them with a modicum of safety during the show. Sad bastards. We’re adjacent to the main room where the “mass” will take place on the adequate moment.

And I feel it. The very slight tremor. I feel the tiny ball of fear settle in my stomach, as it always does, no matter how often I’ve exposed to them. A little dust detaches itself from the dirty ceiling, and starts drifting down. In the other room, I can hear the excited whisper of many people. The “priest” gives me a defiant and pleased grin, before barking to his companions. Laugh all you can, sicko, I’m done.

The heavy man that was beating on poor Josh is coming towards me now. He’s a true brute, and looks like one. He needs fresh meat, and my looking at him is triggering the good old-fashion male response. He glances at Yana, seems to hesitate, I swallow hard, and grins at him. He’s made his decision, I’m next on his list. I lock my gaze on the gun that hangs loosely from a makeshift holster under his arm. The priest is gone to the other room and his voice is loud and preachy. Four guys are left with us, probably in charge of tenderizing the meat for the goddess. Brutus lands his massive hands on my shoulders.

It’s nothing really, or very little. But it’s sharp, very sharp, and folded nicely and deep under my shirt, near my arm pit, unnoticeable to their hasty searches. It cuts through the man’s throat much easier than it did through the rope around my wrists. By the time the sudden gush of blood splatters on the ground, the gun is in my hand. My skin goes as cold as ice, as I push the large body down. My feet are still tied to the chair, and I feel so clumsy, sitting like this, a heavy twitching body on my knees, with this guy in front of me taking out his own gun. He get the bullet between the eyes, to my own surprise, and when I shoot again, the other guy doubles-up, and crashes on the muddy floor. No time left. I did not even get a chance to hear the guy behind me cock his gun. I see Yana staring at him, her face in shock. I shoot blindly twice over my shoulder, in the direction of that stare. I go deaf, but feel something bumping on the back of my chair. My left hand brings the tiny knife to the rope on my feet. The door starts to open. I shoot right through it. It closes again as the man behind falls backward. It all happened in less than five seconds. Shrieks and shouts explode in the other room.

I rush to Yana and cuts through the rope, shooting at random at the door. That keeps people from trying to enter apparently. I look around. Dummies. Stupid mother-fucking dummies:  we were locked in with the gun racks. Yana is already grabbing one. I free Josh and Dylan. I’m about to go to Yana when we all hear a din that makes us duck for cover. But it’s not coming from the door as I thought. It comes from outside. Now standing, I can see well enough through the slit. On the hill, an improbable festival is going on. Surrounding the three poles on the hill, fireworks are exploding in the air, sending their high-pitch signal and pseudo sonic bangs for miles around. These bastards are giving their Goddess the go-ahead for her meal. The tremors are feeble but constant now through the floor.

In the other room, a nice panic has settled in. Shouts and cries and confusion. The door shakes at some gunfire, new holes appearing into it, driving new shafts of light. Two gunmen from what I hear. That’s doable. I crouch in front of the door. Just as two holes appear above my head. I take a nice aiming position and gesture Yana to open. She does so.
There’s much movement in the room. Men, women, all haggard looking, in rags,  trying to hug the walls of the vast hangar- like space. Through the slits along the walls, two large rays of light cut through the dust. In the middle of the room, a weird-looking altar is set, surrounded by colorful but flthy mats on the floor, where i guess they must sit for the prayers. I spot some light coming from candles and torches. The first gunman is on the right, near an exit door. He’s trying to aim at me, but is perturbed by some fleeing companions. I’m not. He falls against the wall, leaving a long red stain as he crumbles down. Yana closes the door again with a kick of her boot. Damn, there are too many people in there. And they won’t leave the place now, with their goddess merrily approaching. Dylan pushes a heavy locker against the door. Josh and Yana add some more weight to it. That should hold  some time. Our options are narrowing. The window it is, then.

We stack boxes against the wall, under the window. In most of them, there seem to be more explosives (must have been a firework factory in the good old times). The guys in the main room are trying to force their way in. We glance at one another and immdiately come to an agreement: we better hurry. Getting Josh through the narrow opening is painful, he’s been badly beaten. Yana and Dylan manage to get him through, while I search the place. I find what I’m looking for. A nice can of petrol. Just as I thought, no one has dared to venture out, and we’re alone in the midday sun. A few hundred yards from us, the wails of our captive companions are clearly audible. The three of them are up the small hill, tied to their poles, a near biblical sight. The sickos that captured us have a flair for the dramatic. We run up the hill, under a clumsy fire, now that the guys below have recovered they guns. Good thing they’re poor shooters. Puffs of dust explode around us. I leave a nice smelly trail behind me.

We reach the top of the hill, panting and exhausted. Our friends are calling for us, we read all their hope and fear in their urgent eyes. They are looking at us, but also at something beyond the nearby forest. She’s coming alright. We stare at her for a second, a gigantic statue of flesh idly walking towards us. Her allure is stunning, by far one of the most beautiful specimen I’ve seen. Her curly blond hair is very long, nearly reaching her buttocks. She has a very curvy body, high breasts, and her legs are long and powerful. Her face is enticing, a lovely pale oval of cuteness, speckled with freckles. Her nose is small is slightly upturned, giving her a young look. Maybe the initial girl was an athlete, a model, but definitely the kind of person you’d notice in a crowd. This girl is too cute to be a man-eating thing. Yet we have no illusions about that. Her demeanour is serene, staring at us with a contented look. She’s really far, and would seem nearly normal still, if it wasn’t for the tiny trees at her feet. She crushes her way through the forest, and I see mighty oak trees crumble under her soles like blades of grass. When she comes out of the forest, her ankles catch some phone lines that she drags with her carelessly. Her smile is getting larger. And she does look hungry. She’s three miles from us, at best.

Dylan and Yana are trying to free Sylvia. The heavy rope is resisting the knife. The poor girl is crying , her face has been beaten and she has a nasty bruise on her  cheek. She stares at the approaching giantess, while her friends battle with her restraints. Under our feet the tremors are getting more and more intense. I glance back at the half buried bunker down the slope, where I can hear cheers, and shouts from the mad cultists. They see us no doubt as additional meat for the lunch of their goddess and do not bother shooting at us any more. Josh and I manage to free Allan, who falls on his knees, massaging his wrists. I look South. It’s too late, the shadow of the giantess is already upon the little town. As she walks through it, I hear the crunch made by cars that she transforms in metallic pancake under her soles. Her legs are cutting through houses that crumble like Lego toys. She’s an awesome sight, her breasts swaying to the rhythm of her gait, vast gourds of flesh four times my size at least, and hundred of times heavy than me, and the great pale abdomen under them seems to be calling for us, its perfect deep navel , like a hungry mouth. (I confess I also glance lower to a perfectly trimmed triangle, and a hidden cleft that could receive many visitors at once ).

The others are already running down the slope, half carrying their freinds, away from the predator’s line of sight. The forest is our best hope of vanishing at this stage. The giantess does not rush. She’s just on a morning stroll, and happy to see us. Yana and I are trying to reach our last companion. The insane villagers have him tied to a really high pole, his feet resting on a horizontal board, a good ten feet off the ground. Prentice is shouting at me to hurry, his face white with fear, his eyes locked on the vast body approaching. I desperately try and climb the pole to get to him. Yana is urging me to hurry, her voice shaky with fear. I manage to reach the board. I try to get a grip, and have some balance, I shout to Yana to get the hell out of here. My legs crossed around the pole, my left arm locked around the board, I start cutting at the rope on Prentice’s  ankles. I’m glancing at the woman. She’s nearly upon us, teeth that could cut us in half are showing in a yet beautiful smile. She’s going to pass near the bunker where the insane cultists must be silently preying with joy in their hearts and chanting her greatness.  Prentice is begging me to hurry. The tremors of the huge crushing feet make our pole sway even more now. That’s when I notice the heavy-duty chain around his wrists… 

I look at Yana, down the pole. She looks back at me, despair in her eyes. The guns. Dylan and Josh have the guns. The giantess’s face is level with us now,  a massive bill board slowly rising in the air, as she ascends the hill. The large green eyes are clear and beautiful, they look upon us as one would look upon a creamy pastry. Her massive body quickly looms over us, its shadow covering the entire hill top. As the vast body is gaining altitude in front of us, revealing the blond hair on her shoulders, and then the large appealing breasts,  Yana shouts a desperate word to me, and starts running down the hill, her panic total. Prentice’s pleas are turning into sobs. I stare at his down-turned eyes for a second, feeling my own tears of despair run down my cheeks. His eyes are drilling holes in my soul. his teeth are clattering with anxiety. “I’m sorry, man, I’m so sorry…” is all I can blabber out, as I manage to break the lock of our gazes.  I jump down the pole, roll a few meters. Two giantic feet have settled around our position, shaking the ground. Far above me, beyond the impossible long pillars of the legs, that hide the sky and the sun, a huge body begins to collapse in our direction. The long hair of the young woman is falling towards us in a sudden golden curtain. The sky is nothing but flesh and skin, the air permeated with human scent. I flick open my zippo lighter and throw it in the wet trail that leads to the cult  bunker. The fuel trail ignites and  starts rushing towards the hidden building. I start running just as enormous fingers grab the pole. Prentice’s cries intensify , as the pole is ripped from the ground in a sudden cracking noise, showering me with earth and grass, and is brought high up in the air to the enormous face. The girl giggles with pleasure as she looks at the wriggling man on the stick. She giggles and frowns and seems to savour the thought  for a moment, closely examining her prize, smelling it a bit, then she casually inserts it in her mouth. Prentice’s shouting is muffled behind the red lips.

I run for it, my mind a blend of fear and horror, down the grassy slope. A shadow appears around me, and it’s my turn to scream when a huge foot lands near me. Its big toe could have finished me off.  Dropping from far above, a massive hand descends upon me, thumb and index fingers extended to grab me, within the golden shower of the long hair. As I watch the enormous crane-like hand, my mind seems to switch to a strange and peaceful shock state. So, this is it?  She's the one that gets me? Is the running over? Was it worth it?  I'm nearly relieved to be chosen by this beauttiful girl. Somehow she seems worth it. The other hand is still  holding the human lollipop the girl is sucking on.

At that second, the huge deflagration hits us, the hungry beauty and I. The fireworks and explosives have been reached by the running fire.  The girl above me suddenly turns her eyes towards the weird  and joyful explosions behind her, where a big cloud of smoke is illuminated from the inside by dozens of fleeing fireworks rockets. The fingers stop descending and stand still just a few meters from me. (I can feel the heat of the vast body all around me,warmer than the pale sun).   The huge shape is going erect again, the hair that surrounded me a second ago, suddenly lifting up. A gigantic foot is hovering over me, the crinckled sole taking aging to pass it seems,  as the massive body turns round towards the half demolished bunker . The girl casually removes the pole from her mouth. Prentice is no longer there. She drops the pole,  laughs and starts walking to the bunker. She has forgotten about me. I do not dare to even breathe…..

I do hold my breath as the girl walks down the hill. In three steps, the vast buttocks are level with me, the long back of the giantess hidden in the lush locks of her blond hair. Three more steps and her head is lower than me and further afar still. In the distance, a human anthill has been breached, spilling its terrorized inhabitants. Many are alight with fire. I hear the girl laugh again as she scoops three guys in her hand and lifts them above her head, entangled in the cage of her fingers. She casually drops the first one on her extended tongue. He hardly has time to scream that he disappears in the closing mouth. The look on the girl’s face is ecstatic with pleasure as she swallows him swiftly. The two other men quickly follow. I watch petrified two little shapes at her feet disappear under a humongous sole, when the girl inadvertently crushes them beneath her tremendous weight, busy as she is gathering more morsels. She never even noticed their death underneath her, i'm sure. A running figure, all alight with fire is extinguished under the foot that lands atop of him.

The girl is now giggling with joy, walking around, her head down turned, as one follows ants in thir march, landing her feet around the small crowd of her believers, prodding them in the directions she wishes. Its' like she's doing a slow dance around them, carefully stepping in front of the little fleeing forms. After a few minutes of giggling and quick crushing, she has quickly gathered them in a petrified flock, that huddles together, no longer knowing where to run. Their cosy “observation lounge” is burning fiercely, offering no protection, yet some do try and run back into it. They end up as tiny stains under a foot, or are swiftly picked up between forefinger and thumb and placed back into the crowd. Then the lunch they were so eager to attend really begins. The girls sits down near them, surrounding her little human appetizers with her massive thighs (a man who was still on the move disappears under the settling flesh of her underthigh).

As I start crawling towards the shelter of the forest, I can’t help and look back. I’ve become sick this way, maybe. Perhaps no better than this insane lot that thought it a good idea to add us to their local giantess’s menu. Should the nightmare ever stop one day, I’m ripe for a decade of shrink sessions.  The doomed people are cowering now under the cliff of the vast abdomen that hungers for them,  in the shadow of the  mountainous thighs. More wails of terror come up , as she starts her lunch. The girl is making her pick, absentmindedly knocking over with her fingers the foolhardy that try and run away. She teases them, making believe the choice is difficult, picking one, releasing him, picking another one, bringing him to her mouth, then replacing him back in the crowd. i'm perplexed, this is a highly unsual behaviour for a giantess. The crowd is going mad, all they can do is wait for their turn and even that is turning into a terrible game. They do not have a single chance.  I tell myself I'd rather go quickly than wait the way they do.  One by one, fathers and sons and wives, they are lifted to the smiling lips, and disappear in the wondrous body of their goddess.

Soon three last men are cowering on the ground, crying and begging their goddess to spare them, while all their companions are but a few meters above, under the soft skin, starting their digestive journey. I reach the forest and turn round a last time. The girl is satisfied with her believers I guess, ‘cos she’s reclining now, propped on her elbows (one of which is crashing through a house, collapsing in a burst of raised dust). The last three remaining men have been set on her belly. She teases them with her index finger. Huho… No need to be a genius to guess what’s up. They probably have guessed themselves. Soon enough she picks one and drives him south for a more carnal pleasure. His screams disappear inside the perfectly shaped labia she has been taunting us with for the past half hour. A moan of satisfaction growls in the vast throat. A second man follows his companion in the wet cavern, dooming him to an even faster drowning in the depths of the girl’s vagina . The little trashing and screaming he does is not match to the fingers that insert him between the rosy folds. I wonder what’s going on in the head of the last survivor of the village, as he stands all alone on a plain of warm skin, hearing the muffled wails of all his friends and family ( these assholes were probably inbred, i think) right under his feet. Well, he does not get to reflect too long on this strange situation, as he’s picked up at last and used thoroughly by the giant beauty to stimulate her clit. If she doesn't break his nexk stroking his face against the burgeoning organ, he may last longer than the other two. Poor bastard. I do not look further but as I run deeper in the forest, scratching my face on the underbrush, I hear the thunderous moans  of the girl. I hope the leader of the cultist is one of the three guys. I sure hope he enjoys his drowning in the godly juices….

I find Yana and the other huddled together not far from the spot in the riverbed where we were jumped by the savages. The kiss I get from her when we meet is enough to make me wish my life was more often in jeopardy. (Come to think of it, I get to receive quite a few of these kisses nowadays. I ought to be more cautious.) Still, we’re all stunned from the recent tragedy. We’ve lost two good people in that mess. We gather our stuff and start the journey back to the main group. I’m not looking forward to explaining the events of the day and the deaths of our companions. We need now to think about the road ahead, how to avoid the blond assassin in this region, and generally speaking, how to stay alive a bit longer.
Hell, it’s still a life I guess, now that our civilised days are obviously truly gone. At least today saw the end of these despicable human beings. This road will be less dangerous for those who may follow us. Poor consolation.

It is a more tangible consolation to remember that the giantesses are now experiencing their own attrition rate, as reports come in nearly pretty regularly on the net (thank god for the few thousand servers in the world still providing us some information) of the demise of a predator. We all suspect we , the humans, are doing this, that somehow someone has found the Achilles heel of the giant huntresses. But the reports are sketchy, unclear, and so far only in Asia have giantesses been reported dead. We’re still a long shot from sleeping peacefully at night.  Still, this is the thought I emphasize at the end of my speech for the fake burial ceremony we offer our dead later that day, as we grieve for our companions and prepare for the journey ahead.

That night, I dream of the life I had before the Awakening. These were good times, for sure, yet, when I wake up with Yana in my arms, the sky above my head, I cannot bring myself to fully regret the chain of events that brought us together. Human psychology, go figure.

tbc

nostromo

NH   part XI

It’s rather hard to imagine what it must have been like. Not impossible, of course, as we have been through the same motions after all, but still the scale of the genocide was on par with no other event in History. Asia was struck by the most massive assault of all on our planet, the giantesses’ size showing their maximum all over this region. In this densely populated area, the appearance of the creatures triggered a devastating rollercoaster of mayhem and slaughter. The giant Asian girls had at her feet throngs and throngs of a panicked population that they could harvest at their leisure. Literally, they just had to bend down to pick up their food. We all saw images of these sexy colossi gathering in their palms tens of people before greedily slurping them down.  Maybe because of it, may be not, it is nevertheless from China that the first proven blow against the invasion was launched.
The effort was obviously worldwide. Connected still to the thinning but apparently indestructible Web, the scientific community kept struggling with the only problem at hand. All the military networks found themselves shared and exploited in a unique way since the advent of that technology. Passwords crumbled, access spread worldwide, impregnable databases opened up to the scrutiny of the desperate researchers and military alike. As an unexpected side-effect of the invasion, the first true universal networking of knowledge built itself up.
As it turns out, the Chinese scientists of the Beijing Molecular Institute were the first to make something out of it. Pity it took so long to reach us. Pity it took me so long to catch up with the news. And pity I learnt too much about it…

……………………………………………………….

We’re in a bad situation. No, “desperate” situation is more accurate. Yana is trying to sleep in my arms, as I hold her tight, in a futile attempt to warm her . I can feel her shaking like a leaf against me, and that tears pieces of my soul away that I am so helpless to comfort her.  The cave is not really cold. Spring is rather mellow this year but we’re all frozen, in the damp darkness. I hear my fellow survivors rattle away in the night, like heaps of disgruntled animals, unable to find the sleep they need, knowing also that if they find it, they may just not wake up from it. Outside the cave, a deep rumbling and regular sound can also be heard. Two vast lungs heaving to the quiet rhythm of an inhuman breathing. The breathing is loud and clear to us all. The giant girl has lulled herself to sleep at last, her face a mere meters from the opening of the cave. Damn it. This means someone’s got to try again.

Three weeks we’ve been huddling in the shallow recess in the flank of the mountain. Three weeks we’ve been listening to the monstrous biological noises outside. Her breathing, her urinating,  her grumbling stomach even. That is,  when she’s quiet, and not talking to us in this maddening voice of hers, throwing the mellifluous vowels of her strange language into the cave opening.  Three weeks she got us trapped in the cave with apparently no intention to leave any time soon.

She caught us as we were progressing on the narrow mountain road, our little convoy pushing ahead to cross the low pass and to start a welcome descent on the other side.  I heard the shout of our scout in the talkie-walkie, saw the massive face  of the girl smiling at us from the next ridge across the valley. We rushed back in panic towards the hollow we’d noticed a few minutes before in the mountain side, in the hope it would be large enough to contain all of us. Her huge naked body loomed further up the ridge, and when the massive feet crossed at last the top of the hill, a huge avalanche of rocks started to rumble down the mountain side, down to the valley below us. She followed it, her enormous feet digging in the soil with so much violence  entire  slabs of forest followed her wake. The long thighs propelled her vast body in our direction, showing fine-tuned muscles under the radiant skin. Her breasts lolled right and left under the strain of her run, but her radiant face, alight with a delighted smile was staring at us with an intense hunger glowing in their large blue  orbs. I was pushing Yana and the others towards the cave , on the road strewn with our dropped vehicles and possessions, when I saw the brown dome of the giant head surging back from the valley and ascending the  steep slope. We rushed inside the dark opening.

We had been ahead of it so, for us, running to it was a downward rush. For those who were way behind, it was a desperate climb up the road. Ten seconds after I entered the cave, the huge hand appeared on the road, grabbing it like a ledge, and pulling up the enormous naked body. I could see the massive shape rise above the slope, the face, the shoulders, breasts, belly, till eventually a gargantuan foot stepped in front of the opening, cracking the pavement open, as if it were mere biscuit. What followed were the screams of our comrades outside, as the girl turned her attention to them and started to pick them up. The too familiar pleas and shouts, the usual elevation of the sounds, the loud gulping, all this came through the opening, obstructed as it was by the rosy flesh of her foot.. It lasted quite a few minutes. Then the foot disappeared, creating a tremor that sent pebbles from the cave ceiling raining on our heads. More tremors and more screams echoed in our little space, as the girl chased away the last survivors of the convoy rear. None of us dared to walk to the entrance. And wise were we not to, as huge fingers thrust themselves into it a few moments later, like monstrous snakes, trying to reach us and throwing our refuge in near obscurity. The flagrance of her skin was reaching us in spite of all the dust she had raised.

She knows were’ in there and she’s adamant she’s going to get us for breakfast. She hasn’t moved away for three weeks. The giantesses are slowly driving their resources through the floor, so successful they have been at sacrificing us to their insatiable appetite. Food, that was once so abundant, is running in short supply in the region we were trying to cross, and for that matter, all over the country and even planet I guess. As a consequence, the determination of any giantess that encounters her food is strengthened by the simple rarity of it. What she sees now, she just doesn’t ignore.
We are near thirty people stuck in the cave (apparently an abandoned mine shaft whose end had collapsed and provoked the termination of the works). Some of us had food in their packs. Not enough of us. We ran out three days ago, in spite of the rationing. I lead a foray into the depths of the mine, through ugly narrow tunnels that revived a long forgotten claustrophobia in me. It was scary but it came with a prize, a rivulet of water trickling through a muddy wall. Not exactly a spring, but enough to cover our immediate needs. As for another exit, the dim hopes vanished pretty fast.
Now, as I listen to the sleeping giantess outside I wonder if this is indeed a race. We are going to start starving soon. Is she starving too? Can they be defeated by their own greed? Could she give up on us and start looking elsewhere for sustenance? I know it’s just wishful thinking. No matter how little they eat, they do not seem to be affected physically by any hardship. They are still as slender and beautiful, no matter how often they gorged themselves on our bodies when we were many, and they are still exactly the same today, when we are indeed an endangered species. Their redoubled efforts at finding us may be real, the reason is hardly starvation,  I suspect. Reaching for the satisfaction of a job well done, maybe?

So. She’s asleep again. Should we go for a sortie? How many of us? Can I really send someone out there to their death in the acid pit of her stomach?  Should I be the one to lead the charge? I find myself a rather feeble Odysseus, struggling with a very strange Cyclops. I wish I could blind her the way he did in the great book, calling myself “No one” and so fooling the entire host of our persecutors. But they cannot be harmed. They are Nature itself. They are beyond my reach and my meek plans. I decide to try in force this time.

Our last attempt had been a disaster. As soon as we heard the black-haired girl sleep the sleep of the just (her head propped on the road like a pillow, the rest of her body resting invisible on the slope below), we tried to let a group out. Like a captain on a sinking ship, I had decided to remain behind, but is it really an act of bravado, or just the result of my fear of confronting the giantess outside?  The fact is I wasn’t part of the exit party. Tom, Mike, Katie and Julie had approached the opening with extreme caution. All you could see outside was the red mouth of the girl, slightly opened, breathing her hot breath into our cave. The teeth were showing, perfect and white and enormous, opening on a wet, dark cavern, the reflection of our own. They had tip toed outside, past the large lips, and turned right to carry on upwards towards the pass. We waited inside, aligned in groups of three or four, ready to follow. We watched, as a sudden change in the breathing took place, and a humongous red tongue started to slowly pass on the red lips. Yet nothing happened for a few minutes. We knew it would take a good half an hour for the first group to reach the pass and perhaps find safety in the woods on the other side. 30 minutes is quite a short time. Thirty minutes is nothing really, we squander these minutes by the heap in our daily lives and reveries. We don’t notice thirty minutes.

 These were the longest of all, stretching like centuries. She did not give them the thirty minutes. A sudden snorting noise, and the mouth at the entrance of the cave lifted off the ground. We had a glimpse of the long brown hair lifting off too, and then the opening was clear. Crashing and crushing noises erupted on the slope of the mountain, as the giant body changed its position on the rocky face, toppling trees and dislodging boulders. Light poured in the cave, as the first screams reached us. I had sneaked to the entrance, and wishing I hadn’t, looked outside. The giant girl was smiling at Mike, who struggled between the pads of her fingers. He was brought right under her nose and she sniffed him like one would a fine cigar. His little fists could be seen trashing on the massive fingers. Her mouth opened quite large, as she seemed to deposit him right in her gullet, so deep she inserted her fingers. The giant eyes closed for a brief moment, as she swallowed our friend.

I could see the others trying to run upward on the little road, and the vast naked body of the girl against the slope, near level with them. As an act of playfulness, the monstrous woman had poised her hands on either side of them and, heaving up her chest above the road, slowly let her left breast come to rest upon Julie’s running shape. The young woman disappeared under the quickly flattening mass of flesh, as it pressed onto the road. A loud giggle erupted from above. When the giantess lifted her chest off the road again, I saw Julie’s crushed body stick to the underside of the breast, for a second, before dropping  lifelessly onto the mountain flank. Tom and Katie were invisible to me, high up on the road, but well within the reach of the girl. To them the horizon was the fleshy wall of the woman’s chest, the two enormous breasts level with their path. She collected both of them and they came into view. A second group rushed out then from our cave, aiming downwards, running their asses off in the dusty morning, hoping to make to the cover of the forest a few hundreds yards below. Tom and Katie were held for a second, back to back, crushed into the grip of two mighty fingers before being inserted in the drooling mouth. The girls chewed on them quite a bit before licking her fingers clean. She then looked downwards.

I don’t want to recall what happened to the second group. They were spotted easily by the hungry girl and dispatched in the cruellest fashion, the giant body passing briefly in front of the cave, creating tremors and rumbles all across the valley. I came back inside, white as a sheet, breathing hard. A moment later, a monstrous eye was peering into our hole, the wind of its blinking actually displacing air right to the depths of our refuge.

There wasn’t much to do any more. We decided to wait it out. Our food ran out, days passed like millennia, we felt the weakness settle in our bodies. Outside the girl would talk to us, the alien words hitting us and echoing around us. At times she blew into the cave, making the air foul and heavy to breathe. Our things were scattered against the walls by the gale-force blow. We huddled together in our fear and despair, waiting for the creature to fall asleep again.

Yana and I spoke about the future, about our  future kids, the house in the woods, the quiet swimming in the near-by lake, the love that united us. We gazed at each other, trying to forget the horror outside. The more I looked at her, the more I felt I had no right to let that future die in that hole. But the more I gazed, the more I saw the reflection of my own weakening. Yana had organized the rationing, and kept herself busy checking on the others, as we waited quietly for the opportunity. She was showing a strength and fortitude that quickly became the back bone of our survival in there. We made love among the others, as others did too, suffusing the cave for brief moments with a hope and joy that vanished quickly afterwards,  making the wait even more maddening I personally thought. One night we heard an enormous fart outside, certainly the product of the healthy digestion of our comrades.

…………………………………………………..

She’s asleep again, and I’ve opted for the simplest plan: a general escape. Genius. I went out for a check a few minutes ago, standing in front of the reclined faced (she will bear the marks of the rocks for a little while on her wondrous cheeks). I was staring at the face, in the strong moonlight, following with my eyes the nicely shape nose, the arches of the well-trimmed eye-brows, the complex lines of the long hair that covered the road on either side. It is now or never, we have lost enough strength as it is. I beckon to the group behind me. Yana comes up to me and lands a kiss on my lips, taking hold of my hand. We sneak outside, a line of hungry looking shapes, projecting our moon-made shadows on the rocky slope. We’re heading down the valley. Above us, for the first few meters, the nostrils blow their hot breath upon us, with a reassuring regular pattern. A deep inner roar come from the big orifices, as the girls gently snores. Under the huge eye-lids, the orbs are rolling heavily, following the satisfying feeding dreams of the giantess, no doubt. We pass by like ugly mice in front of a beautiful cat.

When we come to the long hair strewn on the road we lift our feet high among the strands, sweating at every noise the rope-like hair makes under our feet. We are extra careful not to pull on any strand, making our walk for a few meters akin to the crossing of a minefield. Once on the other side of the brown sea, I watch with anxiety the group crossing behind us. Everyone’s face is hard and concentrated, the movements slow and tentative, the fear visible. When we’re at last all across, we accelerate the pace. Incredibly enough more than one hour passes without any sign of motion from the girl above us. We’re launched into a desperate run now, feeling the weight of the fatigue in our limbs, but also the adrenalin that pushes us forward. We’re heading down straight into the forest, not daring to use the road, and the vicious laces that would bring us back in the direction of the ogre. Every pebbles that rolls down with us is a torture. But it’s too late to be cautious. We run forward. Many a times one of us would run straight into a tree, or is slashed in the face by a low branch. We help each other to come back to our feet and push further. The valley isn’t too far. I cannot see her any more , but I can still feel the presence of the vast body high above us, leant against the mountain flank, and I strain to hear the slightest rumble of rocks coming from that direction. In my hand I feel the sweat between our skins , as Yana keeps her firm grip on me.

We’ve reached the bottom of the valley, where the merry flowing of a stream is sending a warm feeling into our body. We stop for a quick drink. The only water available to us for the past three weeks had been muddy, with a disgusting copper taste to it. The clear stream is bringing back some strength. We head South, we actually came from originally, and where a small city is waiting for us, with all its shelter possibilities. High above the massive form of the giantess hasn’t moved. We can see the long legs and heavy buttocks, the long back and shoulders, all pressed onto the mountain. The feet are resting onto promontories. It’s actually incredible she can sleep standing like this, like an improbable beached whale on the slope. Then again, we remember having seen one sleeping on a mall, all across the buildings, as it was a soft mattress. Tough creatures they are.

Five hours later we enter in the suburbs o f the little town. The first thing we do is to rush to a convenience store we passed earlier this month and where stashes of food are still available. We all dive into the dried up food and cans like the famished lot we are. A few minutes into our meal, the loud rumbling of a mighty avalanche echo from the mountain road. My hopes were that the girl would indefinitely wait for us to come out of the cave, fooled into thinking we were still inside. But I was wrong. She’s coped somehow with the fact that we’re no longer there. And she’s heading our way. After a few minutes her tall body is entering the valley, dominating the quiet and deserted town. We have scattered in various groups into the buildings. In a few minutes she’s onto us. I can see the blue eyes high above, searching for our group, a slightly annoyed look on her face.
She takes out the first house, lifting its roof in a single wipe of her hand, sending tiles flying across town like so many projectiles. She crouches down, keeping the little house between her massive thighs, and explore the inside of it with her fingers. Then she goes to the second one. Damn, she’s going to be quite methodical, it seems, in keeping with the new behaviour our diminishing numbers have triggered in them. The second house explodes like a lego construction. Onto the third she goes. Under her foot, a big SUV disappears noisily, squashed into a pancake debris.

We move stealthily around her. My goal is to eventually come back to the destroyed zone. They usually don’t look twice behind them. The rosy light of the morning is sending our long shadows far from us and this is totally unnerving. We try and stick to the walls. The town is very small and I don’t want to be stuck again into the only underground parking lot, to be cornered again by the monstrous girl. We move like stealth fighters. I give signs to the group nearby, sending everyone ahead in short runs among the buildings. The destruction behind us is becoming stronger and closer, but we have to circumvent it somehow. At times, we see the shoulders and head dominating the street above the roof tops, the eyes like searching lights. The girl is smiling again, with this maddening serene smile of theirs, when they’re happy hunting us.

A roar explodes in the air above us. She has spotted some of us I think. Sudden tremors betray her jump toward her prey. I cannot see the group in question but the girl’s head is moving fast above the rooftops, her eyes suddenly eager and  she shows a smile full of teeth. Screams erupt quickly afterwards. I push Yana forward,  we slowly start angling our progression from house to house towards the first demolished building. Shouts of fear can be heard. I’m quite sure I recognize Nate’s voice, before it is cut abruptly by a swallowing noise. God, Paula was with him, a twelve year-old girl we’d found in deserted place a few weeks ago. As if to confirm my fear, a high girlie shriek can be heard, high in the air, as the little girl is being lifted to the hungry mouth. I feel sick. Yana’s eyes are full of tears. We plough our way through the shadows of the pleasant porches of the little community houses.

We hesitate at the main avenue, six lanes of opened road, covered in weeds already, heavy grass growing around the tyres of the abandoned cars. If we cross it, that would place us behind the progression of the girl, whose might body is looming high above us, crouching from time to time to gut a building or a house with loud wrecking sounds. We cross one by one, in a frenetic rush towards the old petrol station ahead. I wait there in the shadows for my comrades. Suddenly the girl looks back, for no reason at all,  spots Jimmy running across the tarmac. The huge body turns round, the breast balancing in the sharp motion. She comes our way, singing a strange melody, and swinging her hips like a catwalker as she inserts one of us in her mouth.

“Go, go go!!” I shout to everyone, and we scatter in all directions. This is going to be a “everyone for himself” type of run again. The old familiarity of the action does not lessen the horror of it. The biggest grizzly bear we could meet is nothing compared to the giant form that comes closer, intent on treating us as mere little snacks.  Yana is white with fear and in her flight actually drags me along into the now well lit streets.  As we stop a second to catch our breath, I see one of us lagging behind being gently pushed aside by a giant toe. The form above him is gigantic, overwhelming, and incredibly beautiful in the morning light. The skin glows , tanned and healthy, the shape perfect in its feminity, the face that looks down is soft, gentle and very, very pleased, showing a sparkling set of teeth behind the full red lips.. The poor guy at her feet screams as the vast toes settle slowly on his body, and start rubbing him into the tarmac. The girl laughs a merry laughter and looks around for more fun. We are going critical again. She’s onto us and will not let go. I fear we’re just postponing the outcome. I grip Yana’s hand and resume the running.

That’s when the oddest thing occurs. Far above in the sky, I spot a red-colored object that seems to be drifting in our direction. It takes a second or two before I recognize the shape. A parasail. Someone is parasailing in our direction, high above the head of the giantess. Leaning against a wall, I take out my binoculars. It’s a girl. I can see the long blond hair streaming in the air currents around her head. She seems to aim straight at us. Where the hell does she come from? Why is she falling in toward the town? Is she insane? A bout of giggling smashes the silence of the valley , when the giantess also spots the slowly drifting girl. She walks calmly in the direction of the new comer, and, planting her feet through a house, and squashing a small van under the other, squarely waits there, her hand to her eyes to see the sail floating down towards her. She’s very excited.

“Turn, turn away, dammit, you fool” I voice between my lips, as we observe the slowly descending parasail. But the sail circles around closer and closer to us. The giant girl waves at it, and even makes a small excited dance, applauding loudly the slow descent. She sounds like a ten-year old at a fun fair. I look hard in the binoculars. The girl in the sail is grimly staring at the giantess. It takes a few more minutes before I notice the strange harness she wears. It does not seem to belong to the parasailing equipment. Four, no, five, bright red patches are attached to the girl’s body. Something in my mind clicks into place.

We watched terrified, as the sail comes closer. The giant girl is all cooing and talking as she starts reaching out for the tiny shape. A few minutes and the sail is gliding right above the giant girl and heading straight down. She lands into the open palm of the giantess. I’m dumbfounded, as I watch the sailing girl pull on the straps to actually stop her descent and aim perfectly at the giantess’s palm.  It takes an incredible courage to do this. Or incredible stupidity. The giantess is delighted with her catch. She quickly separates the flapping sail from the prize the morning has brought her. I see the tiny struggle of the girl into the big palm, as the harness is being ripped violently from her body. She’s shouting something I cannot hear. Something defiant and angry and…scared.  The giantess sniffs her catch again, tumbling the blond girl into her palm with the tip of her nose. Then two fingers reach for the tiny form and lift it high above the head. The giantess cranes her head back and slowly deposits the girl onto her mouth. I swear the girl is giving her the finger as she disappears between the lips. I’m frozen with the sheer surprise of the whole scene.

The giantess is quickly dispatching the victim through her gullet and a very slight swelling is all that shows of the passing of the blond woman into the giant throat. The giantess licks her fingers and turns to us again.

We’re hidden inside a low house now, and wondering what to do. Run again? Stay low? Where can we go now? I sneak a peek through the window just in time to see the giant girl close her eyes, emit a strange noise, and with a deep whimper, suddenly collapse onto what was the town-hall. The building explodes under the falling body, sending debris high in the air, bombarding us with tiles, and stones, and glass shards. A mountainous cloud of dust rises in the morning light.

We observe the body for a few minutes, stunned and unbelieving. It lies lifeless across the town centre, the long thighs resting on the remnants of a church, the un-breathing torso crushing the old town hall. Yana and I start walking up to it. As we come closer, a strange thing happens again, the body is no longer resting across so many buildings it seems. It does not even look so big any more. In fact the closer we get, the smaller it seems too. The girl is shrinking fast in front of our eyes, like a snow flake in the sun, her moving heels dragging slowly through the adjacent buildings, the receding limbs leaving crushed debris fall away to the ground as they diminish in size. This is insane. And so it is true. They can be killed. We’ve just witness an execution.  After a few minutes, as we now run toward the place, an incredible excitation running through our hearts and minds, the body is no longer visible.

It takes us nearly half an hour to find the body of a brown haired woman, a spitting image of our giantess, lying on a pile of rubble. She’s back to her original size. Back to the original shape and size of the unfortunate girl that was chosen to perform the gruesome task of wiping out our species. The girl has no expression on her face. She’s dead, another body in the ruins. We stare at it for minutes. I cant’ detach my eyes of this simple woman, so limp, so small. And I do feel sorry for the poor girl who probably never even witnessed any of the horrors her borrowed body created for us.

We look at one another, Yana and I, as more of our group are coming running to the centre of the scene. Everyone gathers around d the body. After a few stunned minutes, one of us asks the obvious question: “Where the hell are our people? She should have imploded ten times over!”
No, there’s no trace of the folks she just ate in her rampage, nor of the courageous girl that landed her sail in the palm of the once monstrous woman. We sit around the body, gazing at one another in disbelief and slowly letting the mixed feeling of joy and grief settle in our confused minds.

Later in the day we find the remnants of the sail the girl used to attack the giantess. Sewed into it, I find a single piece of paper. It bears a name : Laura Stilton. And a web address. Laura Stilton… Where did she come from? Was she part of a plan? We just know she saved us for certain death. I do not think we could have survived the attention of the desperate giantess. She would have turned every stone of the city before giving up. I guess we were lucky. She was probably in search of the creatures, and coming from the pass to the North, she happened to spot our own personal nightmare. I wonder who she really was and why she did this. It was clearly a suicide mission. The giantesses have proved indestructible to any external attack and I personally never thought an “inside job” would do the trick either. But it did. The girl went for the internal organs it seems, sacrificing her life to her goal.

We spend the evening in town. I organized the usual watch, they are so many of “them”, and we could really have another one on our back before soon. And we feast over every food we have gathered. Life is coming back. At dusk we have gathered to bury the now innocuous body of the brown haired girl. I gave a somewhat awkward speech over the grave, balancing as we are over the tragedy of this person and the remnants of our hatred for her. That night all of us sleep at last with a modicum of success. Hunger is slowly subsiding. But our bodies still bear the mark of the last days. Many are still grieving the losses of the last attack. Yana and I go to search for a working computer. And also for a real bed, where we can at last consummate the feeling of joy and liberation we feel inside. The future we’ve been imagining for ourselves about could still happen after all.

In the morning, at last, Yana and I get access to the Net. We find the website mentioned in Laura’s note: a very cryptic, highly encoded website, dedicated it seems to dispatching news related to the invasion and survival tips to anyone in the world. The site confirms the last figures we had heard. 378 giantesses have been put out of action. The site is very unclear about the method, which is strange, considering the method is pretty clear.  Most of the hits took place in Asia, it seems, and it is during this browsing that I learn about the Chinese breakthrough.

Still, the type of device is not clearly defined in any of the scarce paragraphs of the page. I organize a search group and we go back to the mountain road where twenty of us have died the Death. In the afternoon we reach the first strewn debris of our devastated convoy, suitcases, back packs, hand drawn carts. The sight is appalling. We have to walk among the seriously squashed corpses of our friends. (We hadn’t pay attention to any of this earlier on, in our mad rush down during the monster’s sleep) There is blood spattered on the boulders around us. Not all of them went into the giantess’s body. Finally we spot what I’m looking for. On a hunch of mine, we have dragged with us the mysterious metallic case ever since we encountered the doomed military plane way back in the South. The only survivor of the disaster had proven rather ignorant of the content, but was quite adamant it was vital to some sort of military plan in development. (he got squashed under the butt of a playful girl a mere three weeks after we rescued him, poor sod) . I open the case again. Inside, the ten red objects are nearly glowing and I have a bad feeling the metal casing is no luxury at all. But there’s no doubt in my mind. We’ve been carrying for months the very explosive/device / poison used by the parasail woman. She had 5 of them harnessed to her body, which means we probably have with us enough of the stuff to kill two, maybe three giantesses. I stare at the glowing blocks, a weird gelatin wrapped in some silicon casing, and neatly presented in the foam interior of the case. I close the case and sigh heavily. I wish we’d use this earlier. But then who am I kidding? Having the stuff is probably no good without the adequate trigger mechanism. I order our little gang back to the city. Whatever happens, I’m not having the rest of the group walk through this road again. We’ll tackle the slope further down the valley, I note to myself.

We decide to spend some more time in the city. We need food and our guns are ready for some mountain hunting. The more accurate shooters –that would include Yana – go for the hunt. Hopefully this region is now void of large predators and we’ll play that part for the time being. That, now, wouls be a welcome change. Myself, I spend the day pouring over the Net, sending our longitude and latitude to every site and mail address that seems even remotely connected to some military/ science effort. I copy / paste my message a thousand times, frenetically searching and browsing and cross-referencing. My message is simple. We have the stuff , we need the detonator. Please send someone, or at least any rendezvous point. By the evening my fingers are sour from typing and clicking. I start again the day after.

It goes on for two weeks. We have a giantess alert again; hide ourselves in the parking lot. Let the tremors pass over our heads. Wait another day before coming out. Business as usual.
Yana calls me, urging me to come out in the sun. A distinct noise is slowly growing through the mountains. The type of noise I haven’t heard for a long while. We spot the military jet as it zooms on us , filling the valley with the roar of its engine. It flies low, right above our crowd, as we flail our hands at it. We see it buckle right and left in acknowledgement, before disappearing beyond the pass. A few minutes later, the roar grows again and when the jet flies above our little town, we all applaud and cheer as we see a colourful parachute deploy.
 
It takes us some time to find it, but when we do, the military ensign on it is quite clear: it’s one of ours. A metallic casing very much like the one we possess is hanging from the tree where the parachute landed it. We gather round while one of us climbs up and cut the lines.
I open the case, as one would a religious relic. Inside, a rectangular box, with two LED lights on it. Some over complex electronic plate is stuck to it. It doesn’t take an engineer to know what this is. Whatever is required to detonate the weird explosive ,this is it. This is the straight forward answer to my message. We cheer and cheer: we’re armed, for the time since the start of the conflict.

Then everyone goes silent, as the enormity of what is being asked  is dawning on everyone’s mind. We have ten gelatine blocks. That means two “launchers”. Two very dead persons. Yana grips my hand and squeezes real hard, in a commanding manner, while staring hard into my eyes. I know what she’s saying. She will not let our future die with one of us. I was hoping for this reaction myself, I must say.

We’re all gathered around our dinner (the mountain proved generous in game) when I utter the question everyone has been thinking about all day. A big silence falls on the group. We all look at each across the dirty tables of the lonely little diner , in the penumbra of our lit candles. A man I hardly know gets up and walks to me. Alvin Blocken. All I know from him is that his family has been wiped out months ago. He doesn’t talk much. He just comes to me and shakes my hand. We all keep a stunned silence. I shake his hand, at a loss for words. We have our first suicide bomber. I’m relieved in a weird way. That is done. Or so I think. But then Aurelia asks the question I was now hoping to avoid for the immediate future. “Who’s the second one?”

None of us is ready for this. The device is also a tremendous hope that this nightmare could end, that there is indeed a future for us. We want to see it. I want to see it. I want Yana to see it.

The straw thing is such a cliché. We’ve all seen it, and it turns out it is just as dramatic and nerve wrecking in real life as we saw it in the movies. No straws are ever drawn without a death involved, apparently. I argue all evening against it. I don’t want anyone to do this. Alvin has his reasons, his eyes are burning with intent, and I respect this. But the others… No one should have to…. I argue for caution, for the right moment to choose, for the right girl to take out, all sorts of things. The conversation quickly turns into a row. Insults fly low. I realize they want someone handy to save them for the next encounters. They’ve been way too frightened by the last one.  In the heated argument that follows, it’s apparent they all want a nominee. Yet no one wants to volunteer. Great.
 
I sigh, defeated by the pressure, carried as it is by the intoxicating mood of our “victory”. Did they forget the girl died? Would I die for them? Maybe, yes, and that’s part of the issue.

I look at Yana, when my turn comes to draw the straw…..

Tbc?

nostromo

NAKED HOLOCAUST .        PART XII

Our planet is trampled. Seen from the mountain slope, the valleys look bruised by innumerable footprints. Trees have been flattened, soil compacted, and everywhere human structures are lying in ruins, driven into the ground. The giant girls do not sleep much, but when they do, the incredible in-print of their enormous bodies distort the landscape, trace area of destructions in the fields and forests and cities.
It had soon become apparent that re-claiming the agricultural lands after the passing of the giant beings would be a mammoth task in its own rights. The soil everywhere in the country has been piled in to such high pressure, it resembles the peat of the Irish bogs. Shattered riverbeds have spilled their floods all over the landscape, turning arable lands into marshes. The few pictures from airplanes we get on the last available sites  of the half functioning net are just stupendous. Large path trails have slowly been eroding the planet, where giantesses seemed to follow a regular pattern (they never do for a long time…). Even on satellites shots, the devastation is clearly visible, especially around the cities. They have ruined our world for centuries.

But they are not staying. We’re not allowing this.
As the production of the quantum-shift “explosive” has stepped into overdrive, thanks to the efforts of the Chinese scientists, and the international effort, the number of giantesses has been slowly but surely dwindling down. Everywhere on the planet, volunteers have been planting the devices deep in the hungry stomachs, in a final and terrible act of heroism, and hate. Just as much as survival, retribution is fuelling the hundred of men and women who have now, strangely enough, become the hunters, and are giving their lives away in an ultimate closure act for their personal grief. The times are coming when walking in daylight will no longer mean diving down the vast throat of a girl, or being squished to a pulp under an uncaring foot. At long last, we’re on to them.

I am no volunteer. I never was. Unlike many of my fellow men, who have lost it all in the carnage, I have quite simply too much to live for. If I hadn’t met her, well, who knows, I might have conceded my life to a strange sense of duty and heroism,. But Yana’s love has made this impossible. The whole planet is not worth losing her. And there’s also the intriguing fact that the more I see them, the less I seem to hate them. The giantesses are beautiful animals to me. They talk, and even laugh at times, but beyond the alien worlds, the alien and yet childish intelligence is a programming not unlike the merciless instinct of a feline. They do what they are “born” to do, without anger, without passion. I just cannot bring myself to hate them as much as I probably should. I somehow lack this hate now to volunteer for the now increasingly numerous (and successful) suicide attacks.

By the end of the year, half of the giant girls have been destroyed. Each one of them has resumed in death her original shape and size. Each one of these deaths is coupled with the sacrifice of a human bomb. And never were the bodies of those recently ingested recovered. The crude autopsies performed on the bodies showed no internal anomalies. Not even the shredded stomachs we were all expecting. This strange fact is a disturbing reminder there are so many unknowns to our current situation. 

Oddly enough the environing fear level has stepped up one hell of a notch. As it slowly dawns upon us all that maybe we have a chance at ending the conflict in a not-so-distant future, also come the fear of meeting one’s fate under the foot of one of the last girls. It may yet take another year to rid the planet of this huge infestation, and the hope of surviving is now proportional to the fear of not making it alive.

To be caught now would be such bad luck.

…………………………………………………

“Time to scream, you poor fool” I think as I see a running Josh being caught between two humongous fingers. He screams all right, his fists beating against the rough skin. I’m running too, but keep glancing back to witness the usual sad and yet fascinating routine. Josh’s voice rises high above, gives out a funny hollow echo as he penetrates into the deep cave of the mouth, and then is cut short between the hungry lips. A resounding whisper of satisfaction marks his passing through the great gullet. His body slips down the girl’s throat, hardly noticeable, like a swallowed candy  . Same all, same all. I rush towards the nearest building. “Please , please, have a basement” I silently plead. Behind me the heavy thuds of the footsteps have resumed, the pavement cracking in sharp breaking sounds under the unthinkable weight.

She’s as beautiful as she’s deadly. Her lean and gigantic body sends a long shadow over the streets, and even her smell pervades the air now that she’s turning in our direction. Her breasts follow the rhythm of her leisurely gait, massive orbs of flesh that would flatten a car under their weight, her auburn hair flows along her shoulders, in complex and silky curves. She squeezes past the tall buildings, shattering windowpanes in the process The distinct metallic explosion of a car crushed by her foot is a sharp reminder I better not look back too long. Inside at last. The bank (I think it was a bank) is no more than a pile of junk now, its counters shattered, its furniture damaged by all the looting that took place. I walk to the yet intact window panes. An enormous foot is landing in the street just in front of me. The massive object seems to weight millions of tons, supporting as it does the huge frame of the woman above. The usual cracking sound comes from the pavement, as it sinks slowly into the tarmac. I stare at it, as it starts its flight away from me, the sole looking black and dirty, with a  red hint also, of what I think may be the remnants of a person, squished beyond all recognition. I instinctively brace for impact, expecting another foot to come crashing through the ceiling above my head. But I’m in luck.

I risk going outside, moved  by the same fascination which has put me in trouble so many times before. The girl is walking away, following the artery. I watch the tall legs as they move, the enormous and yet perfect ass so far away from the ground, the slow rhythm of the hips. A river of hair covers the muscular back of the young woman. I have to crane my neck to see her shoulders, on high. A motion catches my eyes, at ground level. Appearing right between the passing feet, a couple of people rush from a side street straight into her path. What the hell? I see the giant body come to a sudden stop. The two people, a woman and a man, are making a run for the base of a tall office block ( that doesn’t even reach the hip of the giantess). Are they stupid or what? They run past the feet of the girls, in the opposite direction of her walk. I see the vast swoosh of the long black hair as the girl is turning her head, revealing her face. A smile starts to stretch her well drawn lips. The giant body starts a slow rotation, as she turns back to follow the foolish couple. In the turn, her right foot bumps into a car, that is sent flying straight into a building, projecting glass and metal on the pavement , before it crashes down on a news kiosk. I hear the couple scream in unison , as they realized the consequence of their folly. Above them, the giant girl begins to slowly lower her enormous mass, a prying hand reaching down. I get a glimpse of the huge breasts lowering down, before they get hidden by the large curtain of her hair.

A massive knee touches the ground just behind the running couple, the long thigh showing powerful and lean muscles. The girl picks up the fleeing man first, with fingers so large they should squash him instantly, but also with such a care, it doesn’t even prevent him from screaming even more. He’s lifted high , at breast level before being deposited into the waiting palm of the girl’s hand. I see the fingers curling on him to contain his struggling body.  The gaze of the giant girl comes back down, and a satisfied smile purses her lips, when she spots the woman, who is standing still, her face in shock, looking up stupidly at the hand that holds her companion. I can see a tiny arm reaching out and flaying wildly from between two relaxed fingers. The woman doest shout the huge thumb and index finger grip her gently and start lifting her to the hungry eyes. Her silence tells me more about her experience than the usual screaming. She’s gone and she knows it. She’s food and she knows it.

As I stand in the doorway of the dilapidated bank, my heart pulse is hardly accelerating. I only witness a basic fact of biology, the daily routine of a species that is staple food for a more powerful form of life. We all grew accustomed to this sight.

What I did not expect is the sound of feet. The girl down the street is just about standing up now, stretching her unbelievable naked body over the roof tops of the city. She’s not walking. A shadow covers the street. I look up, just in time to see a giant leg and foot falling from the sky over the top of the bank, the foot coming down on the street like a falling aircraft. I jump back inside, just as the massive heel lands a mere meters from me. I fall on my ass, crawling frantically inside . The heel is pivoting, grinding the tarmac to crumbles. A second later, it raises again, and I hear another foot stomping down the street.

It takes an effort to look out from my hiding place. The mass above is overwhelming, the twin pillars of the legs hiding all view from the giantess. When she joins the other girl down the street, I can at last see her face, showing Nordic or Slavic features. Her hair is cut short. (It does not seem the girls’ hair is ever growing since their transformation) . Her body is long is and slim, she’s slightly taller than the first girl. This one is waiting for her, setting her ass on the top of the office block, in a relaxed stance. She smiles and beckons the new-comer. Her voice is so powerful, it tells us volumes about the lungs and throat that produces it. The liquid and alien words do not mean anything , although I know linguists of all countries are trying to analyse it. Two girls meeting during a leisurely stroll. The Swedish-looking girl sits on the building next to her – friend? colleague? lover?

Cracking noises erupt from the building, as long cracks appear in the façade. The last remaining window panes  from the high floors burst in a shower of glass. The girl makes a worried face, glancing down at her seat, cautiously settling her weight. When she’s assured it will hold, she smiles and turns again to the other woman. Their thighs are now massive arches over the street, and their feet are resting casually against the base of the opposite building.

They exchange sentences that seem just too short to contain any valuable information. A neighbourly chat, I surmise. The weather, the landscape, the food… They have the usual relaxed expression we are so accustomed to. I the midst of the destruction and horrors, these beings seem to glide on a little cloud of happiness. Are they on schedule? Is the plan unfolding as it should? No nagging doubts or worries? This casual serenity is probably one of the most horrid characteristic of the giant girls. The two I’m eyeing now  remind me of two bathers on vacation, totally carefree, yet they must be aware their number is slowly dwindling. Or are they? I look at them as they exchange extremely short words and they appear to me as some video game characters, with their perfect physique and two-bits language. (it is my opinion, they are simply blessed with the minimal intelligence required to perform their task, no more, no less, and it seems to me we should have decoded most of this language by now, but, hell I’m no expert, I suppose).  The strong wind that has been blowing from the West for the past two days is hardly moving the tip of their hair, accentuating the feeling I have of looking at a couple of oversize Barbie dolls.

I can make out the couple lost in the palm of their captor. In spite of the wind, I can hear their whimper, between two booming words from the giantess, as they struggle against the relaxed fingers, totally unheeded by the women.

Being caught is bad enough, I guess, being held as they are, almost forgotten, and listening to this pair chatting away must be beyond frightening. They were people, with their own stories and hope and feelings, and now they are sweets in the hand of that woman, to be consumed at her whim. I’d rather go for a quick squish myself, rather than enduring this utter negation of my life and being. I see the legs of the man trashing on the edge of the giant palm, as he obviously struggles to squeeze through. A sudden jostle of the vast hand, an absent minded prodding of a large finger, and his efforts are nullified. Sweets don’t struggle that much…

This is taking ages. Once in while the woman pushes back her whimpering snacks back into her hand, while conversing with the other giantess. It’s getting dark and I better get moving, while they’re on this prolonged Kit Kat break. I need to get back to the rendez-vous point where Yana and the others are waiting for me. She must be beside herself with worry now. Even if the camp is well up on the hills, she’s bound to have seen those two women barge into the town.  I slowly follow the façade of the bank, towards the streets the hapless couple ran from. I‘m trying to make myself paper-thin against the walls, but I know that if they look in my direction, I’m food.  When I turn the corner of the street, and have to let them out of my sight, my ears are straining for the slightest break in their conversation. I start slipping along facades, hoping to clear the danger zone and be hidden from the sitting girls. Something is emerging from an adjacent street . Something large and oddly familiar. Something very scary.

I freeze on the spot , but my innards start somersaulting in my chest . So, that what’s the couple was really running from. And me who thought they had been frightened by the second girl… Damn… The tiger carefully walks to the centre of the street, its head low and his tail flaying nervously in the street dust. It hasn’t spotted me yet, as the wind is my favour. I’m a hundred meters away but  I feel I could touch him. Its body is lean, and I don’t think he got many preys over the past few days. So by the look of it, from potential snack, I’ve been promoted to perfect lunch. I slowly, slowly start to retreat, my back hugging the walls. The animal looks nervous, sniffing the air, his ears pricked up for the loud booming noises from  the two girls’ weird chatter above us.  “Damn you, shoo, stupid cat!” , I find myself thinking. If he only meows, we’ both gonna be in a heap of trouble.

The tiger is looking in my direction now, a paw in the air, transfixed like a salt statue in the middle of the street. I have retreated along the façade straight into the line of sight of the two girls that occupy half the nearby street, still sitting on the straining buildings. The tiger is coming my way, in a tentative gait, his large yes fixed upon me. I guess his fear of the loud voices is fighting his compulsion to eat the tender morsel I am. He knows something’s afoot; We both move slowly, in a mute show-down, as I re-enter the street behind me. I know what’s going to happen.  If I know cats enough, the tiger will pounce as soon as it feels I’m about to be out of sight. On my right, the two monumental girls are still occupying the end of the street, and more straining and crumbling noises are coming from the sturdy buildings that support their asses. I stop, my skin melting in a torrent of sweat, it seems. This cat would have to blind not to find me now.  The tiger stops too, sniffing the air, looking worried. Be scared, damn you, be scared. But I know the two beings probably won’t register much against his hunger, too big or part of the landscape and all… I jump.

In the microsecond it takes to turn round and start my flight, I catch the leap forward of the predator. I sprint like hell towards the nearest door. My hands grabs a handle. I turn it. It opens. Behind me the clicking noise of claws on tarmac is clearly audible. I rush inside. Push back the door, frantically looking for a latch, a key, a bolt. Something large and howling comes crashing on it. I have my back on the door, and arches all my weight against it. Yet the shock is so strong, I’m projected on the floor. Outside the street is a carnival of snarls, and clawing , as huge paws work on the panel. I jump to my feet. The place is dark and all I see is the light coming from under the door, where the tigers paws project their moving shadows. The door trembles. It just won’t hold the hungry beast for long, I know that, feeling trapped and helpless. Why the hell did I not take my gun this morning? It was supposed to be a simple errand but… Killed by my stupid complacency. Damn, I need to….

An excited giggle easily covers over the frightening raucous. The clawing stops abruptly. I hear the snarl of the tiger in front of the door, as it recedes quickly in the distance. Ow, man, this is insane. The window panes open ever so slightly, enough for me to see the beast being hauled up high by two huge fingers.  The poor bastard should have paid heed to his fear. It looks like a kid toy in the fingers of the girl (the tallest one, with the long black hair), who is sitting back next to her “friend”. She examines it joyfully, brings it to her nose for a quick sniff, smiles with all her teeth. Her friend is all excited too, petting the tiger’s head with a humongous index.

The terrorized animal is soon introduced between two luscious lips, as the young woman sucks on its body dreamily, its striped fur is glistening with saliva. Obviously the killing claws are no concern to the woman. The long tail is flying madly, the powerful body convulsing in the overpowering grip of the two feminine and perfectly manicured fingers. This is one the weirdest sight I ever witnessed during this crisis. The crunch that follows is sickening, as the pearly white teeth of the brunette cut right through the beast.  (They don’t do that often, but it happens once in a while). The tail falls limp now.  A geyser of blood pours forth, splattering against the girl’s chin. She wipes it with a distracted finger, while chewing heartily, as one would a chocolate bar. She pops the rest of the animal in her mouth and soon, the dangerous beast is swallowed in the vast throat... I don’t know whether to rejoice or to be sad. I feel sick… and small, very small, indeed.

New shrieks make me lift my eyes again. Obviously the little interruption has rekindled the women’s appetite. I watch the man she caught earlier being lifted above his captor’s head, twenty floors high. He dangles by his feet, screaming over the up-turned face of the young woman, who starts opening a wide, wide mouth. She lowers the screaming guy into her mouth, and finds it hilarious that the man prevents his engulfment by catching the edge of her teeth. She wiggles the tip of her tongue against his face. His hands lose the meagre grip they had on the white and sleek surface, and down he goes , shooting a useless and echoing “ Noooo!!!!”. But yes it is and a pretty deep yes, it seems. It does look as if the man must have his head rubbing right against her uvula, as his feet are pushed in by a curling tongue that retracts between the slowly closing lips, and her empty fingers come out. Keeping her head craned back, the young woman closes her eyes, as she works her victim towards her throat. When she redresses her head suddenly, tightening her lips in the hard swallow, her neck acknowledges the passing of this large morsel. I swear I could still hear him as he went down the throat, the poor bastard. I stare at the vast expense of her smooth belly.

The second treat is now dangling too, by one arm. The giantess is saying something to the other one, her hands following her speech in a merry and agitated way. Her victim is trashed from side to side in the swinging grip, her shoulder probably dislocated by now, and I can’t imagine how painful that must be up there. It is no matter for the giant girls. After a minute or so, it’s the turn of the tall brunette to set her head back , holding her long hair in a nonchalant way, while her friend proceeds in feeding her the shrieking woman. She’s introduced into the wet cave, slided across the tongue, then taken out again by the playful girls, and this over and over. I can see her banging her face on the front teeth and her feet attempting to push off the wet carpet of the teasing tongue. She must be looking at hell itself, at the bottom of that glistening well. I don’t want to see the rest. I do hear the screams disappear behind the smiling lips, but I have my hands on my ears for the final gulping.

The two women have stopped chatting, both of them looking happy to share a moment of silence. Both have crossed their legs, in a very feminine fashion, looking like two customers at the terrace of a café, but with a strange vacant look in their eyes Within their well-toned and irreproachable bellies, a horrible struggle has started.

I wonder what to do now. I’m too much in shock myself to think clearly, and I guess the adrenalin will take a while to leave my blood. I shake like a leaf and feel cold all over. I watch the girls outside, wishing them away with all my heart, so that I can get the hell out of this stupid town and rejoin Yana. I know I won’t dare to move till is really dark. I have to face the fact that I am really, really scared now, as scared as I used to be in the Beginning. Not only these two hungry girls are waiting outside, but if a tiger made it to these streets, God knows what else may be lurking too.
We’re all well expecting such encounters in urban area, of course. With the fall of the cities, most zoos have been destroyed, the animals scattered, and back to a wild state. I had heard many stories. Did not expect to live through one, though.  The presence of the giantess has sent many wild animal into frenzied panic, and has displaced even the larger ones. I heard bears were coming out of their native woods in the North, the natural quietness of their habitat disturbed by the giant trampling. They find another source of food today, closer to our towns.…
I sit on the damp floor, dejected and feeling like a trapped mouse, while the happy women outside enjoy the coming sunset.
I open the useless mobile phone that was the reason of my coming to town. Power supplies are getting scarce, but having a mobile on the newly restarted network can save lives. I had come in that shitty city to find a new one. I check the display. Not enough power for a call, of course. But for a second or two, I get to look at a picture I took of Yana, before the screen turns back with a beep. I close my eyes to try and keep this image vivid on my retinas.

An hour passes by. I’m about to get more comfortable in the dark room, when a low rumble start shaking the ground. I stand up in her hurry and jump to the window. Did they see me, after all? Outside, in the rosy light of the sunset, I see the two girls standing up in a hurry, as the buildings they were sat on are finally collapsing. The floors come crashing in the street, in a loud shower of bricks and steel and glass. The noise is tremendous. A huge cloud of dust billows around the women’s legs, and rushes in my direction. I close the panel just in time to feel the force of the sudden blow, dust pushing through every interstices of the room. A hysterical laughter explode in the street , louder than the crash.

Okey, this has to be my cue, I guess. When I step out of the building, the street is nowhere to be seen under the heavy cloud. That will do, I decide. I run into the brown fog, as fast as I can, away from the madness, holding my mouth shut, and protecting my eyes the best I can… Behind me, the inhuman laughter rumbles through the fog. I vaguely discern the pillars of the pairs of calves in the whirlpool of dust, the bodies are high above but not visible to me. I sure hope they don’t see through the mess from up there. A few minutes later, tremors travel through the shattered tarmac, in a complex rhythm. I stop in my tracks, trying to judge the direction of the trampling. A wave of relief washes across me when I realize the tremors are getting weaker. They are going away at last.

As the dust disperses, at the end of the long avenue, I dare looking back. I can see the girls walking away from town. They are miles away already, their shapes diminished to more human proportions, it seems. They have wonderful silhouettes, both of them, regular centrefold items. But the brunette girl is so large, she makes the other look like a child. When they rise above the far way hill, and eventually step over it, one foot one the facing slope and the other disappearing behind the summit ridge, the very landscape is ridiculed by their sheer size and power.  In a minute, both head disappear beyond the hill. It won’t take them long to get to the next town, the next hunting ground. I start walking back to our schedule meeting point.

The town looks like a bombed city, most of the buildings have been tumbled down, trampled upon, or at the very least damaged by the giantesses. It takes some doing, even for them to bring so much destruction to a place. What I witness is not the consequence of this last short visit, but the outcome of many, many wanderings of the giant girls, over a period of three years, each one adding her own touch to the wreckage. On the hillside dominating the small city, the trail of the vast feet is easily visible too, the tall trees trampled like blades of grass. In fact, as I scan the horizon, every slope of the hills that surround the once thriving touristy place bears the marks of a giant shuffle. The entire valley is scarred beyond recognition.

Down the street in front of me, I shiver when I see the familiar splatter of a squished victim. Man or woman, I don’t know, nor do I want to know. The remnants are all the more offensive that the shape of a human being is still clearly present in the bloody mess. In the early times, I would have walked as far away as possible from this obscenity, but today, my mind jaded by the past horrors, I simply pass by, looking straight ahead. Our streets are often littered with the squished ones, and I do not know any longer that they are so unlucky. The image of Josh being lifted up between two fingers comes rushing back. The poor guy is still probably alive just now. But he’s no longer the shy man I rescued in the lake district this winter, the brilliant computer geek that helped us link to the Chinese network these past few months. He’s now just another screaming lump of food deep within the strolling woman’s belly. Hell, he’s not even alone inside. One hour from now, what’s left of him and the other snacks will course through her intestines, nourishing her body. What a sad way to go. Yana is going to be so upset.. And I didn’t even find any decent food in that heap of debris.

Yana is waiting for me, along with four other folks. She’s smiling to me, visibly relived, as I walk up the last turns of the track to join them.
We no longer recruit any members for our merry gang of survivors. Large numbers play against us. Too visible, too much attrition. Among the innumerable tribes and clans that federate the inhabitants of the country, we’re probably a pretty safe one. I believe it is because we decided early to just keep moving. Any sedentary group eventually attracts one or two hungry girls that will stay and stalk their territories till they find a way to get all of them. In their strange way, the giantesses are relentless and their obstinacy is their unique but efficient strategy. It has worked well for them so far. The first urban survivors didn’t last too long, even in the maze of the vaster cities, hunted down by the large feet, the crane-like fingers and many ended up holed up in some basement, with a lazy giantess patiently waiting for them outside, or a more active one meticulously gutting out their hide out, till, exposed to the light, they were presented to her appetite like candies in a box.. The memory of the siege of our mountain cave is still fresh in my mind that nearly spelled out disaster for us all. I’m not about to let that happen again Better be caught on the move than dying this way.

I kiss Yana on the lips and let her have the bad news. Her face is shadowed by a grim look now. I think she gets more scared retrospectively, than I ever was during the ordeal itself. Locking my eyes to her, and feeling her body against mine, I also feel in my gut that new type fear, that gnawing anguish that has replaced the straightforward horror of the war.  The fear of being one of the last snack….
I press Yana’s head against me, in the futile attempt to protect her also against the desperate sobbing of Josh’ girlfriend.

One more year, just give us one more year, and all will be fine.

Tbc

NAKED HOLOCAUST                     PART  13

The light breeze from the tent opening is cooling the sweat of our resting bodies. I’m still panting from the exertion of our love making, as Yana gently brushes my hair with her fingers. Under my ear, the regular thud of her heartbeat is slowly coming back to a more peaceful rhythm. The smell of her skin is blocking off the rest of the world and for a few minutes, I actually forget we are not a romantic couple on an out-door holiday. For a second only….

We do travel in style these days:  we have good clothing and good sleeping bags and even inflatable mattresses, now that raiding the urban areas are no longer akin to a death-wish. I’m aware we could settle in any house, I mean really settling in a house, staying for good, and live from the supplies we’d find in the dilapidated city, and even pretend to have a normal life. But it is too early still. I have seen too many horrors over the past few years to allow us to fall for the trap of cheap complacency.

I know sighting of a giantess does not occur more than once or twice a month now. And already life is creeping back in our cities all across the country. Lights can be seen shining in the night, cars are actually circulating on the damaged highways, and refugees are now increasingly re-enforcing growing communities. Everywhere, basic shops are re-opening, which is a real comfort, as it means communication roads are re-opening and because if money comes back, civilisation is not to far away either. We are slowly but surely reclaiming our land.

But nope, I don’t go for the comfort zone yet. I have seen folks stuck in a farm last month. They had left the light on, a luxury they had deemed impossible for the past years, and which had today attracted our merry band of travellers. But not only us. We watched from afar, as a lovely-looking blond girl had sat down with her legs on either side of the large house, has removed the roof with a casual gesture of her hand, and had happily dined that night on the struggling bodies of these foolish people. The air was cool and clear, the screams of the doomed victims were well audible, as they ran from room to room while the girl slowly removed furniture, and walls, and floors. She had taken her own sweet time to feast on them, dropping them in her mouth from above, like a goddess enjoying a bunch of grapes, swallowing them one by one with obvious relish. Then, on a whim so to speak, she had lied down on the newly cultivated field behind the house. She had inserted the screaming survivors into herself, while wrecking one of them on a hardened nipple. Her moans had filled the entire valley like the howl of an alien dinosaur. Our latest recruit, David, who was lying near me in the dark, during our observation, had uttered the sad and disturbing remark that these poor people would be human fertilizer for their own field in the morning. I had slapped him hard on the top of the head, but of course, everyone knew this to be a correct assessment.

In other places, of course it is not necessarily the case, and probably won’t be for quite a while. I hear Latin America is still severely affected, a thousand of the giant girls are still trampling the mountains and jungles and cities of that continent. I do not know why it is so, possibly a lack in the supply of quantum explosives, or just the complex geography there.  Whatever. The fact remains the giantess population is still very active, very present, and does not yet seem to dwindle as fast as it could. Many wonder here if the “girls” will ever change hunting grounds and come and visit us any time soon.

The main problem is food of course. And while we watch the giantesses eat us, we ourselves are pretty close to starvation. The frozen foods from yore have long melted and rotten away in the vast fridges of the dead supermarkets. The tin cans have getting scarce and vicious battles are fought for the known stocks. Agriculture is starting again, but on a very small scale, and the soil it needs has been trampled into compacted ground by the huge feet of the women. Whatever is produced is for the moment still consumed locally, very locally.

The human race has been reduce by a good half, and it is a strange fact that while the giantesses are on the way out, the attrition rate among us is actually accelerating. Massive famines are still devastating all continents and only the return to a local working agriculture will solve the problem. Oddly enough, the giantesses have put an end to industrial food and culture, and are bringing back the much needed local crops so many countries had been deprived of by greedy corporations over the past century. But this may well come too late for most people.

We’re doing ok, we’re well organized, and know where to look. We’ve planted seeds in hard- to-reach places, and know when to go back for the harvest. Even without proper supervision, some of our “rotating” fields actually provide us with sustenance in the area. Hunting provide the proteins. With the thinning out of the giant crowd, I know the question of sedentary settlement will be brought up soon , even for our little group of skilled wanderers.

…………………………………………………………………………….

This girl is hungry and  she has decided Yana is an appetizing choice. There’s nothing I can do. I nearly faint while I watch Yana stabbing uselessly with her hunting knife at fingers twice her size. She does not scream. She just hacks and hacks and hacks away at the fingers that lift her off the ground, towards the awaiting belly of the huge woman.

Everything has happened so fast. The tremors were felt well in advance, as always, but there was something unusual in those. First, the magnitude of them was staggering, the mass it seemed to announce was tremendous. And more importantly the pace was wrong, Instead of the steady heart-beat-like thunder we’re well used to, what we heard suddenly was akin to a charge of a thousand herds of  stampeding rhinos. Fast and increasing. Wherever she came from from, she was running straight at us. I rushed out of the tent, yelling to my companions, who also emerged out of their shelters, their faces white and worried, turning their heads here and there. The pace was strong and quick. The top of the poplar tree near us was vibrating in unison with it, all birds already taking off.  I dragged a half naked Yana out of the tent and started to rush into the messy under-bush of the forest.

The shadow was upon us in an instant, the huge naked frame of the giant girl suddenly appearing over the tall trees, in a deafening din of cracked and exploding trunks, her legs infinite pillars in the sky, her enormous breasts bobbing in her quick run and nearly hiding the face so high above. Her feet, by comparison, were everywhere it seemed, like houses plunging from the sky to quash the world around us. To this enormous creature, the forest was a lush carpet. I had seen one or two like this. Really big. Now we were straight under her. Her eyes were fixed upon us, the vast smile the sure sign of her glee at having uncovered us. The fantastic mass of the body came down, like a rosy storm cloud, bringing into view the other forest of her bush and sex, hovering above the pine-trees.  The incredible sight had hardly registered in our minds  that already a vast hand was swooping down over the camp. I saw Allen being brushed aside and projected into a tree, as if it had been hit by a moving bus. A wooden hut collapsed at the slight brush of the girl little finger against it.
We had indeed no time at all and now we are running, away from a girl so large she probably sees us as bugs , more than as snacks.

Her fingers are so large and she cannot grab us easily. A shadow passes, a huge thigh flies over, and the sky vanishes, replaced by the rosy skin of an enormous body coming down to a stop ahead of us now. As the girls sits down to enjoy her catch, the massive ass squashes the forest in front of us. On either side of us, the huge pillars of the thighs and legs suddenly block the view, new-born mountains of flesh, arching over the hill side. The hill side itself is replaced by the lower abdomen of the girl, where a womanhood that could swallow a double-decker is now blocking our path. We turn back, running down hill. Having us cornered between her thighs, the girl is starting to pick us up. I watch Andy being caught by two huge fingers and lifted up. He cannot scream as his upper body and face are entirely engulfed in the grip of the massive pincer of flesh. I keep dragging Yana with me, in a desperate steeple chase over the fallen tree trunks.  Olivia screams somewhere behind us, and when I glance back I see the tip of a finger grinding her deep into the ground, her twitching legs protruding from the boulder of flesh. The giant woman, a very beautiful Latino girl, with large brown eyes, is cooing something in her strange language. It sounds as if she’s saying “Hush, hush” to the girl she’s crushing under her finger.

We’re running and falling and running.

 Right above us, the smiling face is making a mockery of our flight, as she follows our course through the trees. Alex and Vivien are caught together, pressed against one another as the fingers gather them eagerly.  But frankly, I don’t care. I don’t care at all. I run .
The sudden pull nearly dislocates my shoulder, and sends me flipping in the air. For a second I’m lifted up by Yana’s strong grip. She’s looking right at me , her long brown hair flowing down towards my face , as her legs as brought up in the air. The look in her eyes is killing me. She shouts my name once, before disappearing over the tree tops. I see the shadow of the vast hand disappearing from over my head. My blood has turned to cold syrup in my veins, as the horrible thought settles in my mind. I come to my senses, my reason overrun by my rage, and run back towards the human cliff I can see through the trees.

I can see the girl’s face better now, she’s young, full of freckles, and looks happy, as they always do. The girl is not looking at me; she’s looking at her cupped palm of her right hand. Into which Yana is being dropped, on top of many other folks from the group. Another desperate scream. I can’t see who the girl is picking but someone is starting the voyage to the luscious mouth high above. In a microsecond of self-disgust, I am actually relieved to hear a male voice screaming out….
Another male voice (I recognize who) pierces the valley’s stillness. Yet another…
I hear the cries and shouts of many others emerging from the near-closed hand of the giant girl. I am sickened with horror and frustration as I stumble through the forest last meters to reach the giantess body.  Yana. That can not be. We’ve been through too much already. It can’t end here. It just can’t…

The woman is no longer looking for other snacks. I can hear other people running away from this insanity, the cracking noises of branches and underbrush, receding in the distance. When I come across Lydia and Fred, running my way, they look at me  with uncomprehending faces, as I head screaming in the wrong direction. They must think I’m mad with panic. They don’t stop though, and I don’t either. I’m nearly in contact with the vast crotch of the woman, her womanhood a vast gash in a cliff of flesh that closes the canyon of her thighs and has obliterated the sky entirely . I’m about to reach her, a blind bug attacking the crotch of a woman,  when the whole mountain suddenly rises in the air. Trees are swaying around me, branches fall everywhere. The vast body is rising in the air, displacing air and a knee crushing the ground. The cathedral of flesh rises higher and higher, on the slowly stretching pillars of the legs. The shadow and sole of a foot travel above me, brushing the treetops, and the huge body starts moving away.  High above, I hear the shouts and screams of her captives.

In a few steps the giantess is already far away, her shadow lingering over the devastated fields around. I, like the ridiculous midget I am, am running after her, calling Yana’s name. Each of the girl‘s steps equals a hundred of mine. She walks away with the slow motion of a catastrophe, almost casually, cradling her precious cargo in her hand, and in a few steps she has walked past the next hill and disappeared.
I keep running, screaming Yana’s name at the top of my voice ….

I find her, sitting down in the meadows below the next hills. My heart is trying to part with me, shaking my chest as if to break free,  my sides are aching, and my legs are trembling from exertion. Far behind me the trail of destruction is clearly visible through the hills. It took me three hours to join her. I’m no marathon athlete, and the constant running has nearly killed me. But here she is at last. … I don’t even know what to do next. 

The girl is sitting absolutely immobile, her eyes fixed on the horizon, and not a single muscle twitches on her perfect and youthful face. She just sits there, her knees slightly bent, her long naked legs slightly outstretched. One hand is resting back , providing support for her upper body, and has sunk deep into the ground. Her other hand is half closed, resting in her lap. The glorious nakedness of her body is making her a very strange part of the rocky landscape.

I take out the tiny binoculars from my side pocket, and try and focus, my pant-up breathing messing with my targeting. I swear the fingers on that hand are still closed, as if holding something.  I start travelling down the hill, stumbling, running, and falling every now and then. The girl is not looking in my direction. The closer I get, the more she looks like a wondrous statue, perfect in her proportions, awe-inspiring in her latent power. Her belly is showing, naked and tanned and well toned. I feel a wave of despair at the thought Yana is probably buried in the digestive system of this incredible being. The giantess’ left foot is resting in the middle of a stream, that is now being diverted in a complex route across the fields before it resumes its flow a few hundred yards later.

I’m reaching the ground level and now the woman is a monument towering over the landscape, I cannot grasp her entire body in one glance anymore, and I have to look up to see the beautiful and peaceful profile up high. The mass of her hips has dug in the ground,  and her buttocks are surrounded by  the uneven  ridges of a new crater. The small orange trees here hardly reach up to her ankles. When I next stop and reach for the binoculars again, I have no doubt there are still people in the palm of her hand.

It is a known fact that the girls do not always feed on the spot. Many instances have shown them to wander and carry their victims over long distances. For those victims, the horror of being caught is then amplified by the journey they have to endure, in the warm grip that carries them on, swinging and brushing past their future  tomb of flesh. I lie in the grass now, straining my eyes in the binoculars to see if I can catch a glimpse of my girl in the dark space within the closed fingers. But if I see movements between the trunk-like fingers, it’s hard to say who it could be. For all I know, the girl has swallowed Yana just after I lost sight of her, beyond the hill.

I remain still for one hour or so, my legs still twitching from the cramps of the insane running. But my breathing has slowed down, and my mind is somewhat clearer. Nothing moves in the valley, as if the presence of the giant girl had brought all life to a stand-still. I stay there, staring at her, as immobile as she is. I wait.

She closes her eyes. And my heart misses a bit. This is it. Please , tell me this is it. For long minutes I observe the beautiful face, that has resumed its inhuman stillness. Yes. It’s happening. Ever since the start, the giantesses have been showing this strange tendency to fall asleep in the weirdest of places and poses, across buildings, leaned against a hillside, crouching , sitting, even at times, standing. She does not open her eyes now , as she silently reclines on her back, squashing the field beneath her. Her head comes to rest across the road that crosses the valley. The whole reclining movement happened in slow motion, the legs stretching and burrowing through the broken river bed. The arm that holds the last “hostages” is coming to casually rest on her belly, and I wince , as I see the fingers tightening somewhat. She could easily squash who ever she’s carrying during her sleep and not even wake up.

Her long hair is splayed across the field, like a sudden oil spill. The vast movement is over in a few seconds and then, nothing. Around the huge lying form, a cloud of billowing dust is starting to settle down One leg is bent at the knees, a large triangle many stories high, that leaves me wondering about the bones that sustain such a mass. I hold my breath for the slightest motion of her eyes, her lips, her fingers. After a moment hesitation, I leave the tall grasses and walk across the fields to the petrified giantess.

I suppose this goes against the grain. Preys don’t walk to their predators, and a sick feeling has caught up in my guts as I near the enormous mass of the girl. There’s nowhere to hide now, and my very body is aching to take flight, to go away from this menace. But I keep going, swallowing my fear.

I approach her at an angle, and near me an enormous foot is standing, like a high status, showing a little toe the size of a man. Her big toe, is easily larger than a SUV.  The sole of that foot is a complex wall of skin, wrinkled at places, and dirty as one would get dirty walking year long without shoes, I suppose. The familiar smell of the giantess is now pervading the air, a strange mix of female skin and …something unidentifiable. The ball of her foot is ten meters above me, but I can clearly see the remnants of a recent squish. I walk quietly past the heel.

My heart is racing, now, when I start hearing whispers from somewhere above on the vast body. There are people there. Yana is there, I’m sure. She has to be. I walk along the wall of the girl’s calf. She has some hairs on her perfect tanned skin, the length of my fore-arm. I have never so long and so near a giant girl and the reasonable part in me is trying to distillate a reasonable and healthy panic in my overworked mind. Stepping carefully, I walk toward the thigh. It occurs to me I should have a plan now. I followed her, I found her, and so what ? The wall near me is a living being, for whom, I am no more but a morsel. How can deal with her?  How can I restrain her in any way? I pass near the more complex junction of her knee. I am so small I cannot even reach it. The colossal thigh is stretching now in front of me. I follow the length of the mountainous mass, craning my neck to see the top of it, far above. If she turns in her sleep, I’ll be no more than a stain on this sleek and flagrant surface.

The giantess hand is lying now in front of me, huge fingers resting  on the cold trampled field. There is just about enough space for me to pass between the limousine-sized thumb and the rounded wall of the buttock. I swear I can hear the ground still creaking and sinking under the weight of this ass.
I hear the whisper now, but in truth it is more a quiet and confused sobbing sound that comes from somewhere over on the plateau of the unseen belly. From where I stand, the small of her back has created a large tunnel, whose ceiling is rising and descending to the rhythm of the breathing.

How the hell am going to get up there, on her belly? In front of me, the cliff is showing long regular undulations , revealing the unbelievable size of each one of her ribs, before it comes to a close in the cul-de-sac of a hairy and frightening arm-pit. The slow motion that animates it, the heat of the giant body, everything now is reminding me this is no geographical place I am surveying, but an actual breathing person, who dominates my puny form in the most dangerous fashion. Walking between the girl’s arm and body, in this narrowing and living canyon, I feel trapped and so utterly and mortally insignificant. I turn round considering escalating the fingers near me, and, walking on the wrist and forearm, to the shoulder and then down her breast . But I hesitate. That seems to be awfully close the head of the girl, and I fear this route would lead me to walk on “sensitive“ territory.

I retreat back towards the hip of the woman, cursing myself, already knowing I will have to go to the other side and that the quickest way is by crawling under the small of her back. I drop down into the grass and head on all fours into under the threatening arch of flesh. It is pretty dark in there and I can’t help eyeing the ceiling above me, in fear it suddenly collapses and compacts me into the field. Mid-way under her, a sudden shift of the vast hips is lowering the ceiling, and I bite my lips in an effort to prevent a shout of surprise. The tunnel is now so low and flattened that I have to keep my head down, the long grass touching my face. For a few minutes the smell of grass and the ground takes precedence over the female flagrance of the girl. The overwhelming mass above me is sending my natural claustrophobia into overdrive , and I sweat like a pig, panting and swearing silently, my knees hurting on the rough ground. When I come to the other side, I am relieved to see the sky again.  The long thigh near me is rising up in the air, as large as an office building, stunning in its mass and simplicity, to the far apex of the bent knee, nearly 30 meters above my head.

But I’m not here to enjoy the view. On my left the long ramp of forearm is rising to the top of the waist. Sobbing is clearly audible, and I strain my ears to recognize any clue that I am indeed going to see Yana again somewhere on the body of the giant woman. The evening light is slowly dimming, and I know I better hurry before darkness makes everything problematic. The sleeping face of the giantess is not visible to me, except for the promontory of her nose, the large cheeks and the overflowing curtain  of cable-like hair (some of which are reaching even down to my position near her waist, and I have to be careful where I walk now)

I tentatively touch a patch of skin on the elbow. It's pretty rough, more like hide than skin, and that's good news, I hope. No reaction so far. I could get lucky. But how do I climb this?   I try applying my feet against the overhang of the rounded forearm, but if I feel that if my shoes are going to get purchase enough, the problem is to get a grip for my hands. As I stand near the round cliff, I am reminded of those low and yet tricky jutting rocks I used to tackle on the climbing –wall of the gym.  There’s nothing to it, I’m gonna have to hold on a hair and pull myself up. That’s her cue to wake up, I’m sure.

I grab of two hairs over my head. The strange touch of it is unsettling, and now I really feel like an invasive flea. I manage to twist the  hair around my wrist, though. Moment of truth. I pull myself up, my feet digging and slipping on the skin for a few seconds, before they find purchase in the slightly pliant surface. I grab the next hairs, pull again, , and again, and again. On all four at the base of the fore arm, I look anxiously towards the face of the sleeper, half expecting her to be looking at me with a glee-full smile. Nothing shows she has felt me in anyway. I take a moment to recover my breath.

I move like a burglar in a laser-filled room now, each tentative step a slow and careful decision, my mind focused on ascending the steep ramp of flesh. As I rise over the landscape, more and more of the girl is being revealed to me.  The enormous breasts lie ahead, round and lascivious domes of pale flesh (this girl is still showing tan lines, three years after her transformation) , with tits five times larger than my head, and now her long neck is coming in full view. The underside of her jaw is ominous to me, a path to violent death that so many of us have taken over the past few years. A few meters away, the close hand is resting on the vast expanse of the belly, a complex sculpture on  smooth silky surface. No one is talking in the cupped prison of the fingers, it seems. They are probably too shocked or too resigned to say anything. I’m nearly there, and the veins that run on the back of the hand look now like red and blue water pipes under my feet. No movement. Haven’t they seen the girl has fallen asleep? I slowly edge my way down the wrist and onto the warm surface of the belly. My feet hardly make a dent in the soft skin.

“Yana? Speak to me. Yana?” My whispered voice sounds harsh and rasp, my heart violently knocking in its cage, as tears already flood my eyes. She has to be there. After a few seconds , I hear it : “John??” I walk to the closed fingers. Through the opening between the hairy trunks, I see a hand reaching out. Her hand. I take it in mine, sticking my face in the interstice. I see her face, blanched and upset, her eyes red from the crying.
“John! What are you…? How did  you…?” Her voice breaks, as she takes my own hand between the enormous phalanges and bring it to her face. I feel the wet contact of her lips on my fingers and the violent relief is blurring my sight too. She’s alive. I hear a voice near her, a man’s voice. It’s David’s, the wise-cracker, our best hunter / tracker. After a few seconds , Yana let go my hand and tells me the news. They are the only two left. They are pressed against one another in the narrow hot prison of the closed fist, compressed by the soft flesh of the fingers and palm. She tells me David leg is broken like a twig and stuck between  two phalanges. Yana has been trying to break free but the opening is so tight, she wasn’t able to squeeze through. The low sobbing I hear is  David’s, of course and he sound s as if he’s in as much pain , as he is in despair. I can see the top of his head ,  pressed hard against Yana’s belly, the rest of his body caught in the vice of the fingers below. Damn. Damn. And I have no plan.

Letting go of Yana’s hand I walk around the complex boulder of the hand. Bending down I see a leg caught firmly at the root of two fingers. It does not bode well. The girl is really keeping them tight, even in her sleep. No wonder Yana has been unable to get out. The only exit is near the thumb, and it’s gonna be a tight one. Something happens. I look up. Beyond the twin hills of the breasts, the head has moved. A slow rocking motion animates it from right to left for a second, before the statuesque stillness reclaims it again. She’s probably dreaming (But who know what they do…). I stand still for a minute, not daring to twitch a muscle. Under me a low rumble is exploding in the depths of the belly. The girl is digesting our friends.  I drop on my knees and apply my ear on the smooth skin. Immediately a din of bowel noises, of deep, deep liquid circulation seem to rise up to me, revealing the vast hollowness and the complex world beneath. It is an echoing cavern down there, full of machines and liquid rushes, and I feel I know now what an oyster must experience for the few last minutes of its life inside a woman’s stomach. I cannot hear any voice below, no scream, no cries for help. The previous victims are surely dead and on their way into her lower intestine by now. What was I expecting, exactly? I scold myself with a sigh.

I climb onto the thumb, holding on to hairs, and positioning myself at the entrance of the well-like space between thumb and index. I whisper to Yana to give me her hand. And when she does, I grab her with all my strength, dragging her towards me. The hole is pretty tight. I press against the fatty flesh that makes up the opening, but to us it could just as well be made of stone. David is whimpering somewhere down in the hole, as Yana’s body is lifting him as well, causing more pain to his broken leg. I can see the top of his head, between Yana’s thighs now. I keep going. Yana ‘s head is through, as is part of her shoulders. Her face is grim and she’s whimpering also under the stress. I pull with all my strength, squeezing her out of the fleshy hole inch by inch. I get to grab her now under her armpits, feeling her breath against my face. I kiss her in the neck and then pull hard, and then harder. She’s nearly out. We strained together to pass her hips through…

It’s done, Yana falls down at last in my arms, nearly toppling me down the promontory of the thumb. One second later, her lips have latched onto mine and I feel she’s giving me my very life back. I help her go down to the belly, and I return to the rosy cave of the closed hand. David is trying to lift himself up. But he can hardly move. I can’t see much, but it is clear his leg is utterly pinned down there. Talking to him in a quiet tone, I try to calm the panicking man. His eyes are looking are me, and I see what really frightens me: his face shows the look of a trapped animal and he’s about to loose it. I put a finger on my lips, and try to talk him back to lucidity, while I squeeze in the dark hole. Our hands are locked together now and I know I can’t mollycoddle him. I pull hard. He screams. Loud. Very loud. I feel a squeeze around my waist. A hand has grabbed me by the belt and is pulling me out. I panic and let go of the man’s hand. I definitely feel the grip is tightening around my waist, and watch in horror as the rays of light filtering through the fingers are shutting down one after the other. Yana is pulling me out. “Let go, David, let go!” I tell him. He does not. A cracking noise tells me his leg is being crushed further. David shouts and let go of my wrist. I scramble back with my hands on the complex ridges of the finger skin, and in a desperate pull, Yana gets me out a second before the hand turns into a close tight fist. The opening is gone. David is gone, too. But we can still hear him cry in pain.

I look up again, to see the head moving again. A strange whisper is exhaled from the far away lips of the giant girl, sending chills to my spine. When I rejoin Yana on the vast belly, we watch helplessly as the girl keeps tightening her fist in her sleep, as if dreaming away a fight. Inside the fist, the screams are intensifying.

We run across the belly, away from the horrible scene, stumble across the lush bush of the girl, at the base of her thigh. I prefer not to risk the long trip on the woman’s leg. We go for the shortest road : we use the curly hair of her bush to start descending the cliff of the girl’s crotch. I had never that close to a giantess, sure, but I had never thought I’d ever be so close to a giantess sex. As we start our descent, the image of Yana climbing down the labia of another woman is just mind-blowing. From the vast sex emanates such a definite smell that it arouses me, against all odds. The flesh near the giant vulva is hot and sweaty, and the flagrance is so strong it is getting heat. Yana’s face is a mask of disgust, and she hurries down, her graceful gripping the pubic hairs with reluctance. I keep looking up, fearing the nightmarish sight of large fingers appearing over the Venus mons, to catch us, or maybe just to scratch the little itching we must create. At the base of the rosy folds, the entrance of the vagina is well opened, wet and radiating the inner heat of the mucous cave. I am incredibly tempted to look into it, my senses overloaded with sex  signals, but  I dare not, for fear of seeing a body in the dark oozy recess. We turn round at last and jump the last two meters the ground.
I have never felt more insignificant than during these seconds it took to straighten ourselves, in the deep shadows under this massive ass, two fleas escaping a behemoth, surrounded by her flesh and permeated through our skin with her intimate smell.

And then we run like mad, first along the rosy wall of flesh of the thigh,  then  away from the leg. And as we run, I feel as if a hot poker is piercing my shoulder- blades, and my initial relief is turning again into panic.  I hold  Yana’s hand so tight, she has to stop me for a second and break free. Like me, she’s tossed between joy an panic, and we dare not say a word to one another. We’re hundreds of meters away when I hear a piercing scream behind us. I glance back, just in time to see the girl, her eyes still closed, casually bringing her hand to her mouth and opening wide. Her dark hair is glistening in the sunset rays. A dark little lump falls screaming between the lips. At the base of the neck, a short tightening takes place, as a broken David is swallowed alive and starts his journey to the deep insides of the sleepy girl. She obviously did not notice she was missing anyone. She just licks her fingers, and let her hand rest again on her belly, and then drifts back to whatever nightmares she dreams.

I look at Yana, tighten my grip on her hand again and we keep running….

tbc