The Imperial motorcade barreled up I-95. I really wanted this to be a surprise, so I had the interior-tint windows activated and made sure she sat with her back towards the front windshield. “You’re going to see, your people love you”. She ignored me; just taking a sip of her champagne. “I better be careful. I have a lot of competition for you”- she grinned slightly. We sat in silence for a little bit; I enjoyed watching the dreadful Northeast traffic part for the royal motorcade.  

The motorcade stopped in Battery Park, Manhattan. I didn’t know myself if she was willing to be seen with me in public. But she grabbed my hand. “Let’s go”… “together”. We stepped out to the roar of the adoring crowd. I scanned the crowd- I needed to make sure the dissidents had been dealt with. I grinned. When you unshackle the NYPD, they clean up the streets pretty good. 

I gestured to the horizon and she squealed like a school girl…

Lady Liberty was gone, replaced with a modern, life-like replica of Cait. She was clad in a red, white and blue striped dress that went all the way to the ground. She wore tall, white strappy sandles. The toes had unnecessary, immaculate details. Seems like some foot fetishists had been involved in the creation of the statue, heh. 

She turned to me “who…how?”. I grinned. That was the best part. “Grassroots petition. No government intervention. It’s your gift from the people of New York”. 

I beckoned a smartly dressed middle-aged woman and her companion, a much younger woman with a camera hung around her neck. “This is Rochelle- she’s the New York Director of Tourism”. She gave her Queen a curtsy- the customary greeting to the Queen among women. “This is one of my employees- Sarah is one of our media specialists”. Cait looked expectantly at me. I grinned. “We would like you to pose next to the statue”. Cait looked at the director. “At scale?”. “Yes m’am, at scale” the director replied. 

“Come on. The servants have the outfit for you at the hotel”.

……

The limo rushed towards the hotel where we were shielded from the waiting paparazzi. I sat down on the bed in the gilded room as Cait changed into the attire. “How are we getting there?” she asked me. “Well…….” I hesitated. I hadn’t told her the next part. “The photo short is more than just posing with the statue. We were hoping you could walk at scale over to it- maybe even pose with some skyscrapers”. Cait, clad in just her bra and panties said nothing. 

She creeped over to me , and to my surprise sat down on my lap and put her arms around me. “Only if you go with me” she purred. 

The streets had been cleared for her path. I myself stood back a few blocks away from the Ritz Carlton, where we were staying, and where she was going to grow. 5th avenue where she’d be walking is about 100 feet wide, for her feet to fit, she couldn’t be more than 600 or 700 feet tall. She scooped me up and rested me on her shoulder, right next to the strap of her dress. She brushed her thick brown hair out of the way for me to be able to sit. She craned her head to look at me and just smiled. 

She began to walk. I wasn’t really able to see down her dress or her body, so I decided to just look out at the city. First stop was the Empire State Building. The whole world was watching this girl, the daughter of a High School teacher and a nurse tower over buildings in NYC. As we got closer to the building, Cait stopped and looked down at her feet. 

……

Camilla nervously glanced out the window. She felt the ground shake inside the 5th avenue Ultaa store where she worked. When her boss had approached her with this task, she was angry. When Camilla’s parents came to this country, they did it for freedom, escaping a tin-pot dictator. Now, the United States had an absolute monarch, and Camilla was being asked to service her. 

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to see her friend Juan. “Relax”. He said with a slight smile. “It’ll be done in 10 minutes- you can handle anything for 10 minutes”. 

“It’s the principle of it. She killed my family. And don’t give me that shit that it was an accident- she a….”. Camilla was interrupted by intensified shaking. Outside the window, she saw a massive tan pillar. It was a calf.

“Come on. Us guys next door are going to help move the jugs”. 

They watched with awe as the giantess slipped out of her black flats. She lifted her leg to remove her ankle socks. She wasn’t used to being large. She set her leg down with too much force, and Camilla was knocked over. A few suits milled about on the streets, alongside major media camera crews. It was like some perverse Macy’s day parade. 

Camilla’s manager stepped forward; the employees of the store gathered around her. “Ladies, it is show time”. “Grab a mill”. Camilla hadn’t even noticed the barrels of nail polish had been opened and a table set with all the tools. Their giantess Queen was to receive a pedicure as a promotional opportunity for the company. For someone who was supposed to be so sweet and innocent- the giant bitch seemed to enjoy this power-trip, she thought. 

Camille approached her assigned toe. The faint lotion smell did not fully disguise the odor of sweat. She wished she was numb to the humiliation, but the smell, the noise of the tools as her nails were filed down, was an overwhelming sensory cacophony. 

With disgust she noticed the giantess’ hand for a split second reached down towards her pussy and rubbed it through her sundress for a second before she seemingly caught herself. She was getting off on it. But the giantess only paused for a split second. Without warning her foot moved forward. Camilla flew off her toe and landed on the ground. In front of her, the ball of the giantess’ foot came down on the line of cameras and observers in front of her. She knew it was intentional as she was using the 

ball of her foot specifically to crush them. She watched as the dozen or so bodies popped and she felt the blood projectiles splash on her face.

Camilla also had to worry about the rest of the foot coming down, so she began to run rapidly. She was just a few feet behind the heel when it came down, crushing several of her co-worker nail painters. The giantess turned sideways and seemed to be using her big toe to stamp out some survivors. Camilla fell to her knees and closed her eyes. She felt something. She looked up and the giantess was looking down on her. She was almost as distressed-looking as Camilla was. 

“Please” Camilla mouthed. The giantess stared at her for a second before she reached down and picked her up between her index finger and thumb. She dropped her over in her flat and then climbed back in the flat, smothering Camilla. But she wasn’t being crushed. She was being transported.