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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded.

“Tell me, when do the deliveries arrive?”

Larry stared blankly. Jack pinched his brow.

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

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

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

Larry shrugged. Jack bit his lip then he sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ordinance, equipment, procurement." He muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And those? What purpose do they serve?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Any reason why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now you’re starting to piss me off.”

Jack frowned. “How so?”

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

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

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

“Dif-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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