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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you asking if I’m ready?”

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

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

You perverted little devil.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does that answer your question, assistant?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?” Emma meeked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Right away."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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