Events, dear boy, events.

The words of a former British prime minister echoed through the President’s mind as he sat at the head of the conference table with his advisors and cabinet and watched the footage on the screens.  Thanks to the ‘special relationship’ between their two nations, the current Prime Minister had once seen fit to provide him with his own predecessor’s advice on the messy, unpleasant business of running a country.  The thing that is most likely to ‘blow governments off course’, as he had put it, were events.

An emergency meeting in the Situation Room under the White House’s West Wing always heralded such an event; its entire purpose was to provide a secure, confidential conference room where the President and his advisors could monitor and deal with crises, after all.  His predecessors had sat where he now sat to manage, or muddle through as was often the case, the great crises of the past - Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, and so on.  Now it was his turn, and ever since he swore the oath of office he had anticipated the moment when this room would finally be used in anger.

He had expected war, or a terrorist attack, or a natural disaster.  Those, at least, had precedent.  A giant, naked woman rampaging through an American city had never crossed his mind, but there she was on the screen at the far end of the room.  The footage had been captured by a cellphone, taken from behind the police barricade blocking the street.  Only the giantess’s legs could be seen this close up.  The President and his assembled advisors and cabinet watched as the police fired up uselessly at her, to which she retaliated by stomping on them like bugs.

“God…”

Some looked away, unable to watch, while others stared at the screens in mute horror.  The camera tilted up, granting the viewers a shaky view up her massive body, until it settled on her face.  She was looking down at her feet, but her gaze lifted a little and she seemed to be looking directly at the camera.  The footage then turned into a mad, chaotic blur as the man recording it turned and ran down the street.  Just before it cut out, her voice thundered over the sounds of panic and screams:

“It was self-defence!  You all saw it, they shot me first!”

A tense silence settled like a heavy blanket over the Situation Room.  The President looked to each of his advisors and received the same blank, dumbfounded looks of disbelieving horror in return.  No one quite knew even where to begin with this; it was so completely beyond the contexts in which any of them had been trained, taught, or experienced in their decades of public service.

“Who is she?” asked the President.  It seemed like a good place to start, he thought.

“We don’t know,” said the Chief of Staff.  All eyes in the room turned towards the small, slim man in a suit sitting on the President’s right.  “We’re working on that.  Her accent sounds British, so I’ve taken the liberty of contacting GCHQ for their help in figuring out her identity.”

The Defence Secretary, sitting directly opposite him, scoffed.  “Great, so now the limeys know all about this?”

“The whole world already knows about this.”  The Chief of Staff shrugged.  “There are cellphone videos and photos all over the Internet now.  The footage you just saw was on YouTube before it was swiftly taken down for violating their terms and conditions.  She’ll end up on the news too, sooner or later.  Any insight the British government can give us now will help.”

“Do you think they’re behind this?”

The Chief of Staff pursed his lips and rubbed his palms together, drawing in a deep breath.  “That’s very unlikely,” he said diplomatically.  “GCHQ have promised their full cooperation in this matter.”

“I’m sure they are.  For Christ’s sake, you’re pussyfooting around with the Brits while one of them is attacking an American city.”

It is the art of leadership to force people to work together, the President mused as he watched his staff bicker uselessly.  Sometimes he felt like a human resources manager rather than the leader of the free world.  “So, how do we stop her?” he asked, and almost instantly, with a simple enough question, the argument ceased.  “I want to hear solutions to this crisis.”

The Defence Secretary was the first to speak: “We blow her up.”  The flippant remark caused the President to raise an eyebrow, so he continued.  “I’ll coordinate with National Guard, Army, Navy, and Air Force assets in the area.  That camera footage showed she’s resistant to small arms fire, so we’ll need as much heavy ordinance as possible to bring her down.”

“You’re planning on bombing an American city?” the Chief of Staff asked wryly.

“No.”  The Defence Secretary sneered.  “Give me some credit, son.  We have the most advanced military in the world; we will be precise as well as deadly, and we won’t be sending any of our boys in on foot like those cops.  She’s on the east coast too, so we might be able to lure her out to sea before raining hellfire down on her.  With a bit of luck she’ll fucking drown too.  I fully expect civilian casualties caused by our forces to be kept to a minimum.”

It wasn’t ideal, the President thought, but the ends more than justified the means, so he nodded his assent to the Defence Secretary’s plan.  “Do it,” he said.  Then, turning to his Chief of Staff, “Keep in touch with the British.  She must have family, friends, contacts, people she cares about.  Find anything that we could use as leverage over here, if she proves amenable to negotiating.”

The look on the Defence Secretary’s face made clear his thoughts on that last thing, even if he kept his mouth shut about it, so the President added: “We need to keep our options open, but I’d rather not be the first President to order a bombardment of an American city since the Civil War.”  

He sighed and rubbed his clammy palms together; it was insane, ludicrous, a bad dream, he told himself, but crises made or broke presidencies.  However, there had never been one quite like this.  The world’s attention might be focused on this giantess rampaging through a city, but it would be equally shared with him and his administration in how they responded to this ridiculous, horrific monster.  Whether resolved peacefully or with violence it was inevitable that he would be in for some harsh words from the press, but so long as the threat she posed was ended, completely and utterly, then he would at least come out of this with reputation and legacy intact.

“I want constant updates on what she’s doing,” the President said, at length.  The hardest part now would be sitting there and waiting.

***

Feeling buoyed by her little chat with Cassie, Gilly practically skipped down the street, which was calamitous for everyone else.  With each eager step her feet slammed into the road, shattering the tough asphalt and crushing dozens of hapless pedestrians and motorists alike.  Her plan for getting out of this mess finally had something approaching a clear direction behind it, now that she knew where this Drapers Building was and how to get there, and those people falling beneath her massive feet, being squished into thin stains in footprints that filled the street from pavement to pavement, were just unfortunate enough to be in her way.  If they didn’t want to get stepped on, then they shouldn’t have been there, she reasoned - regrettable, but inevitable.  Now, however, she could no longer deny the intoxicating rush of power she felt with the immense destruction each of her footsteps caused -- the sensation of the asphalt yielding beneath her mass, of bodies and vehicles crushed underfoot, even the way the sides of her feet scraped against the facades of apartment buildings and offices and shops with each step.  It merely came with the territory of being a giantess, and the only thing she could do was to try and keep it and any casualties caused as a result to an appropriate minimum.

Eight hundred feet tall.  There was something very satisfying about that number, Gilly thought, as she continued to trample her way towards downtown.  It was a purely academic question, ‘ridiculously big’ should have been enough for both her and the people who fled in fear from her, but assigning a nice, round, large number to her height, even if it was a rough estimate, appealed to her macrophilic tendencies.  It expanded her context for her size; she was a bit more than a hundred times bigger than her normal height, taller than many skyscrapers, and the 50ft Woman, her teenage hero whose poster still adorned her bedroom, would be a mere doll in her hand.  She had many fantasies around this size range - large enough that most buildings could be demolished with ease, yet still able to toy with individual people.  With her body count already so high, would it really be too much to fully give in and experience what had only thus far been her ultimate fantasy?

The thought intruded into her mind more often now, and was getting harder and harder to banish with each murderous step she took.  This wasn’t a mere fantasy, she reminded herself, it was real, and they were real people she was killing with every single step - dozens at a time.  Yet though the thought had horrified her earlier, now it only served to excite her further.

Gilly spotted the river and the bridge over it directly ahead, leading straight on from the road she had spent the better part of the morning wrecking, and felt a flurry of excitement as she was nearing her goal.  The city here opened up to some sort of riverside district, as the taller office buildings and flats turned into smaller apartment buildings, hotels, luxury penthouses, and townhouses.  The latter, she noted when she paused in her walk to measure a two storey detached house against her magnificent form, scarcely crested over her ankle bone even with her foot partially sunk into the road, and would have fit nicely under her sole.  American cities seemed to be more open and spread out, she thought as she continued her walk, and she couldn’t imagine that her feet now would have fit in the tighter, more densely-packed streets of her hometown of Sheffield.

The road led straight onto the bridge at an intersection, while left and right the road followed the line of the river as it bisected the city.  Gilly stood on the intersection, having neatly buried the packed traffic jam and everyone trapped in it there under both feet.  She looked down, seeing the surviving tinies crawling amidst the wreckage of cracks and fissures caused by the impact of her feet, and wiggled her toes playfully.  The resulting ripples of tremors caused a few of the tiny people to trip and fall.  Even the slightest of her movements had a magnified effect on the world around her.  More than that, however, she could still not get over how downright tiny these people were compared to her toes.

Resting her hands on her hips, she paused to take in her surroundings.  To her right, the river meandered onwards through the city, forming a sort of dividing line between the financial and commercial heart where the skyscrapers were and the vast urban sprawl beyond as far as she could see.  To her left, the river carried on for a good few miles, a short walk for her, and opened up into the Atlantic Ocean.  A boat, some sort of small ferry for tourists, was there, describing a wide semi-circle as it tried to turn away from her.  Gilly thought she could go and pick it up if she wanted to, it being the size of a water bottle to her, but she decided against doing that for now.

There were bridges at certain intervals crossing the river, and each seemed to have its own unique design -- where the river was at its broadest before the sea, there was a suspension bridge that seemed to demand she go over and take a look.  The one by her feet, however, was a much plainer, more simple affair; it was almost like an extension of the road itself, grey and dull, and held up by a series of supports along the way.  The river here seemed about as wide as she was tall.

Opposite the river were the shining skyscrapers she had been aiming towards -- tall structures of steel and concrete and glass, quite tightly packed together, that were about the only things that could compare to her fantastic size, and a few even out-doing her in terms of height.  The Raleigh Tower, which she identified based on Cassie’s description of it, loomed over the rest of them, and granted her the novel experience of having to look up at something since her growth.  She wanted to see how she measured up against it, but that still meant crossing the river.

She looked down at the bridge before her toes, noting that it had become gridlocked as panicked drivers had crashed in an attempt to escape her.  It was just as packed as the streets, perhaps even more so as the build-up of traffic had made even escaping on foot almost impossible.  Simply wading across the river might have been safer for all involved, but it looked murky and unclean to her, and she didn’t know how deep it could get either.

“Sorry,” she lied to the people on the bridge, “but I don’t want to get my feet wet.”

Gilly lifted her right foot from the intersection, once again revealing yet another foot-shaped crater littered with pancaked cars and squashed human remains, and raised it over the base of the bridge.  She heard the panicked screams peak in a crescendo before she placed her foot down upon a cluster of occupied cars and people trapped between them.  The supports of the bridge groaned in protest at the mass resting upon it, almost drowning out the shrieks of the doomed people in her way, steel girders twisted, concrete shattered, and asphalt cracked -- the bridge had been designed to withstand the daily passage of tons of traffic every single day, but not the weight of one enormous woman all in one single place.  When she lifted her left foot in her efforts to walk over the bridge as though it was a tightrope, her entire mass, tens of thousands of tons, rested on the area covered by her right foot.

The bridge under her right foot gave in to her colossal weight and collapsed.  Gilly yelped in surprise, forcing all nearby to cover their ears, as her foot fell straight through the bridge.  Her vast body teetered forwards, casting a foreboding shadow over the doomed people trapped on the bridge, and her arms stretched out and windmilled in an attempt to arrest her fall, but it was too late.  The giantess toppled forwards.  Her right knee smashed into the bridge below, while her left leg splashed into the river itself.  Those people further along looked up to see the biggest pair of tits in the world descend rapidly down upon them.  A few climbed over the side of the bridge to take their chances in the water, but it was too late; the bridge was caught in the cleft between her pendulous breasts, and the deceptively soft flesh there crushed it and everyone there.  Her body briefly formed an arch over the middle section of the bridge, but her collapse didn’t stop -- smothered in darkness by the vast plain of her soft tummy, having seen the destruction caused by her breasts further ahead, the people became all the more frantic in their attempts to escape over the sides of the bridge.  It was futile, however, for even as her body demolished the structure entirely, it kept going, the encroaching wall of flesh pinning them under the water until it came to rest on the river bed.

Gilly caught a brief glimpse of scores of people staring up at her in terror before her pretty face collided with them and the bridge.  The water geysered with the impact of an eight hundred foot tall woman falling into it, briefly obscuring her in mist and foam, and the tidal wave of churned up water expanded out from the epicentre like appropriately-sized ripples.  The small boat that had been frantically turning away from her rocked in the wave violently, throwing off the passengers who had gathered to watch her splash into the water.  Her body came to a rest over the remains of the bridge, her feet on one bank and her head close to the other.  It was surprisingly shallow, with her arse cheeks forming two round islands in the middle between the two river banks.

She lifted her head out of the water and rubbed the muck from the riverbed and the debris from the bridge from her face.  Blinking, she saw immediately under her nose was the opposite bank.  There, at another intersection, framed by restaurants and shops under the shadows of skyscrapers, she saw that a crowd of people had gathered to watch her trip and fall.  Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, as she got it in her head that they were laughing at her, the big, stupid, clumsy giantess.  So, she pulled her right hand from the river and swiftly swung it over them, showering them with river water before she brought it down upon the stunned crowd with violent force.

The sensation of a score of people and half a dozen cars being crushed beneath her palm and fingers brought Gilly to her senses.  Embarrassment turned to frustration, both at having allowed her impetuous feelings to get the better of her and cause even more deliberate death and destruction than her previous accidents.  Nothing in this city could accommodate a being of her size and power now.  She peeled her hand from the intersection to reveal the pretty little handprint embedded in the asphalt there, littered with the all-too-familiar flattened cars and people within.  With it right under her nose, Gilly could see the effects of her destruction right up close, almost face-to-face with the morbid red stains that used to be people.  Yet she could not help but admire the cute handprint, nor feel a stronger rush of power now that she was close enough to see the looks of abject shock and fear on the survivors huddled just below her face, close enough to lick from the ground if she felt like it.  They were all so tiny, so pathetic, so helpless before her divine might.

Gilly breathed a frustrated sigh, which knocked over a good proportion of those survivors; she would never find Pat at this rate if she kept getting distracted by these thoughts.  She rose unsteadily to her feet, the water from the river cascading down her nude body, and found that it was only as deep as her mid-shin in the middle.  Her hair was wet, which annoyed her as the unkempt frizz would only become more messy with the moisture.  Looking down, she saw that the detritus of the smashed bridge clung to her bare breasts; the broken concrete had turned to a sort of slimy grit, and the packed vehicles were tiny disc-shaped slivers of colourful metal.  Gilly bent over, knowing full well she was giving whoever had survived on the bank behind her the show of a lifetime, cupped her palms together to try and gather some water that hadn’t become murky with debris or had bits floating in it, and splashed it onto her chest.

She repeated this a few more times, trying to find areas of the water that weren’t tainted with stirred up silt or filled with the crushed remains of the bridge and its occupants.  It was difficult, and she had to twist herself and bend over at an awkward angle to reach the clearer water.  Where the bridge had crossed the water could be seen as a dark, murky shadow beneath the water, but nothing emerged from the churned-up, frothing water -- it had all been compacted down into the riverbed by her impossible mass.

The handfuls of water poured over her chest, dragging down the splatters of mud and grime, pancaked cars and pancaked people, that had become stuck there.  She rubbed her hands over her ample bust to try and wipe away the worst of the stains, and feeling a little more than playful for the millions of people watching her every move, gave her tits a squeeze.  They were more than a handful each, and she was not surprised to find that her nipples were firm and erect.  Being a giantess was a dirty business, Gilly concluded.  She imagined making the tiny inhabitants of the city filling the river with bubble bath solution for her to bathe in properly and giggled at the thought, but it became less ridiculous the more she considered it; with her immense size and power, who’s to say that she couldn’t order these tiny people around to satisfy her every whim regardless of how silly they were?  Then again, they still had difficulty following her order to keep out of the streets for their own safety (a concern that was becoming less and less important to the giant woman the more of them she stepped on), so it might be a while before they adjusted to such things.

Indeed, there were still people on the opposite bank, and Gilly was surprised to see sizable groups not far from where she had splatted a large mob under her hand.  If they weren’t going to get out of her way even after a lengthy head start, then it was their own fault if they got stepped on, she reasoned.  She stepped forwards, wading through the shin-high water, churning up the water in her wake.  The mobs flinched, and chaos erupted once again.  From her high vantage point she could see the now familiar sight of large groups of humanity, each tiny individual pushing and pulling to get away from her in futile flight.

Gilly reached the opposite bank and stepped out of the water, planting her foot directly on top of a few stragglers who hadn’t moved fast enough out of the way.  The second step squashed yet more people.  She didn’t even bother to look down; her gaze was distracted by the sight of the first objects she had seen since she had grown that could compare with her massive size.  

A maze of glass and steel structures stretched out before her.  They varied in size, most not reaching much past her hips, a few up to her waist, and fewer still she might be able to see into the top floors without having to bend over.  The thought of comparing actual skyscrapers to parts of her body excited her.  She stood there at the cusp of entering downtown, feeling new tingles of trepidation at being closer to finding Pat, and part of her couldn’t wait to show off her magnificent new size to her now-tiny boyfriend.  The warm breeze felt pleasantly cool against her damp skin.

Gilly sucked in a deep breath and carried on, using the peak of the Raleigh Building as her guide like that tiny person named Cassie had told her, all the while snuffing out hundreds of other tiny people whose names she would never know under her massive feet.

***

“Christ, James, you’re going to wear a groove in their nice carpet,” snapped Pat.  “Sit down and relax, will you?”

James stopped in his tracks and stared at Pat, who sat on a faded old padded sofa in the office break room.  The office regulars busying themselves with making coffee and fetching snacks from the cupboards seemed to be deliberately ignoring them.  Beyond the glass partitions, they could see a sprawling cubicle farm that stretched as far as the eye could see.  Two seconds passed before James breathed a frustrated sigh and sat down next to Pat, wringing his hands nervously.

“I’m just worried,” he said.

“They wouldn’t have us come all the way across the Atlantic just to say ‘no’.”  Pat clapped his colleague on the shoulder.  “We’ll be fine, as long as I do the marketing talk and you stick to all the technical stuff.”

James chewed on his lower lip for a moment.  “Fine,” he said, at length.  “If you say so.”

The conference room was down the corridor, and the two had been invited for coffee and refreshments in the break room close by while they waited for the directors to get themselves sorted for the meeting.  They had been offered tea, but neither Pat nor James were particularly keen on the American interpretation of the drink, and thus stuck with stale filter coffee that had probably been there in the pot all morning.  Pat was all but certain that this was all a psychological trick, to make them ‘sweat’ with anxiety and make them more amenable to whatever terms the company wanted, and the damned thing was that it seemed to be working wonders on James.

Still, the office building itself was impressive to say the least; a vast step above the dingy little Victorian building they worked out of in Sheffield, through the wide open glass beyond the field of cubicles they had a grand view of the Raleigh Tower and the park beyond.  Looking down through the window, the people below looked like ants.  Likely another one of their little tricks, thought Pat as he nursed his lukewarm black coffee, to impress the visitors and make them more amenable to whatever terms they would set for this venture.  In truth, he was nervous too, but he was keeping a hold of himself a damned sight better than James was, who was shaking like a leaf with the anxiety of it all.  Everything - the business they had fought to set up and the livelihoods that rested on it - came down to this final moment, to present it all before a board of men and women who would decide their collective fates with the signing of a document.  He knew that they had left nothing to chance; they had rehearsed their presentation, ironed out the bugs, backed everything up with consumer testing and reviews.

Pat decided to go through his notes on his phone for the fourth time when he felt James tug at his arm.

“Pat,” said James, his voice curiously flat even for his dry, posh monotone.  His gaze was transfixed at the small television stuck to the opposite wall, which had hitherto been showing some absurd little daytime soap opera with the sound off, but was now interrupted by a news bulletin.  “Why is your girlfriend a giant on the TV?”

“What the fuck are you…”  Pat trailed off as he followed James’ gaze to the television, where indeed Gilly was shown, stark naked except for a considerable amount of blurring around her bust and crotch, towering over knee and shin-high buildings.  He stared, dumbfounded, and wondered if this was some sort of elaborate prank that James had pulled on him, but he remembered that his colleague possessed no discernable sense of humour except for the occasional dry, sarcastic remark.

James had found the remote control, and un-muted the television:

“...no computer trickery or special effects have been used.  The cellphone footage you are now seeing has not been altered except to make it suitable for public broadcast.  A giant woman of immense proportions has appeared seemingly out of nowhere and appears to be making her way towards downtown, leaving a path of devastation in her wake.  Her intentions are currently unknown, but she is assumed to be dangerous and a threat.  We are getting reports of significant casualties, estimated already in the hundreds.  A state of emergency has been declared in the city, and all citizens are advised to remain indoors and stay off the streets.”

By now, a number of office workers had gathered in the break room around Pat and James to watch the TV.  There were quiet murmurs of nervous conversation, and though Pat’s attention was fixed directly upon the surreal image of his girlfriend blown up to ludicrous proportions he could make out a few disbelieving comments about how the liberal media was such bullshit and would make up literally anything, even the most ridiculous, impossible, ludicrous idea like a giant woman all for their agenda.  Another commented why they couldn’t have picked a hotter actress for the role; sure, she was pretty and her tits and ass were huge, but someone skinnier would be nice, if they were into that sort of thing.

The news bulletin continued:

“Yes, I’ve just been told we can now go live to the scene with Sandra in the traffic copter.  Sandra, are you there?”

The static image disappeared, and was replaced by footage of a woman in a hastily done-up business suit and wearing a headset.  She was inside a helicopter, sitting by the open door and buckled in tightly to the crash seat.

“Yes, thank you Brett!” she shouted over the roar of the rotors.  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are at the scene of the biggest story to come out of Central City ever.  A giant woman, estimated to be between seven hundred and eight hundred feet tall, is walking straight towards downtown.  We’re following along from a safe distance, and I don’t think she’s noticed us.  This is absolutely incredible!  Show them!”

The camera shifted, blurring, and then focused on that same impossible sight as before, except in motion.  There, in the distance, was Gilly, absolutely enormous as described, striding between skyscrapers that barely crested over her wide hips.  She seemed to be having a bit of difficulty squeezing past them, and the camera, lurching drunkenly, zoomed in to show her thick thighs scraping against the facades of the building to leave their insides exposed to the world.

“Oh my God!” Sandra shrieked.  “She’s just stepped on a group of people!  I don’t know if she meant to do that or- or if it was an accident, but… wow, look at that, I can see footprints in the road behind her.  There had to be hundreds of people in those streets!”

Brett interjected: “Sandra, you’ve been following her for a bit; are there any clues as to where she came from or what she wants?”

The camera pulled back to Sandra, who was shaking in her seat and clutching at the armrests.  “Earlier she stopped to pick someone up and talked with them.  From what we could make out, she seemed to be looking for someone called Pat in the Drapers Building.  She certainly doesn’t sound like an American; her accent sounds kind of Australian, maybe?  But where she came from and why she’s so big we don’t know yet.”

Pat felt his blood turn into ice-water.  Someone in the office outside screamed, and there, beyond the mass of cubicles, through the glass, he could make out a bob of distinct ginger hair move between the towers.  He felt the floor shudder beneath him subtly, then again, and again, as the top of Gilly’s head, impossibly huge, disappeared behind one building only to reappear on the other side.  He caught glimpses of her face, and the eager grin on her lips was impossible to ignore.  The images he had found on Gilly’s computer, of pretty actresses and Instagram models photoshopped onto city backdrops with lovingly rendered destruction effects, and her attempting to rationalise her irrational fetish for impossibly huge women stepping on people and demolishing buildings flashed through his mind.

He grabbed James by the wrist.  “We have to get out of here,” he whispered.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.  The assembled office workers either continued staring at the screen, while others darted over to the windows to catch the small glimpses of the titanic woman heading their way.

“What?” James blurted out.  “We’ve got our meeting.”

“The meeting’s cancelled,” said Pat, sotto voce.  “Gilly’s coming here.”

“That’s nice of her.”  James sat a while, looking up at the screen.  Then, the penny dropped.  “Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, fuck, indeed.”

Pat seized James more forcefully by his upper arm and dragged him up to his feet, and as the realisation that she was heading straight for them slowly spread through the office workers who had gathered at the windows to watch the giantess approach, pulled his friend and colleague between the massing crowds in the direction of the lifts and stairwells.  As they pushed their way through, squeezing between people who barely acknowledged them for their attention was fixated on the more pressing matter bearing down on them, Pat prayed that none of them would recognise him.  The hushed murmur of conversation grew louder, then the shrieks and cries of fear filled the office.  The ground lurched under him, James swore and had to be dragged, but Pat still could not bring himself to look back to see his gigantic girlfriend’s crotch filling the view outside.

***

The streets here were wider but just as densely packed with people and vehicles.  However, though the two-lane highway she stomped down was more than wide enough to accommodate both of Gilly’s feet with enough room to spare either way (if she stood with them together), the taller structures that rose up past her hips and waist presented a new, unforeseen problem.  She approached two twin structures situated on either side of this highway, forming almost a gateway into the city’s downtown financial district, her steps snuffing out dozens of lives at a time with an almost casual manner that had simply become routine.  Fascinated by them, Gilly measured herself up against these skyscrapers, and found they just about came up to the level of the underside of her generously-proportioned bust.  However, she noticed that the gap between these two structures was rather narrower than the width of her broad hips by a considerable margin.

Gilly stood there and considered her next move.  The Raleigh Tower and the Drapers Building were both directly down this street, and so tantalisingly close.  She considered stepping around these two towers, and it would be easy for her to step directly over the row of knee-high buildings just behind her into the adjacent street, but there were just as many skyscrapers that almost rivalled her massive size there.  Either way, she would have to squeeze through them somehow.

But these were skyscrapers, Gilly considered, designed and built to withstand earthquakes and all manner of natural disasters.  Surely they should be able to withstand the passage of one very big girl?  Of course, in her fantasies, skyscrapers always folded to the giantess like they were made of mere cardboard and paper, but this was real, she assured herself.  Besides, she was quite eager to test that little theory and find out for herself.

She sucked in her stomach, as though that would shrink her hips too.  Her hands rested on top of the roofs of the skyscrapers, her elegant fingers curling around the corners, and the concrete deformed under her palms and fingers like a half-set clay.  It was not particularly reassuring, but, she reasoned, she might be able to brace the two buildings and keep them from falling over.

Gilly took a step forward, and once again a score of individuals, who had tried to escape from the towers into the streets, vanished under her sole.  She was so focused on her task that she didn’t even notice she stepped on them.  She brought her hips forward slowly, inch by inch - or rather tens of feet by tens of feet, she mused to herself - until her smooth skin made contact with the polished concrete and steel.  Her breasts rubbed against the tops of her hands resting on the rooftops, which began to crack and crumble under her touch, so she lifted herself up to stand on her toes to keep her twin wrecking balls away from these structures.  Pushing forwards still, she felt her hips scrape against the sides of the buildings, but the skyscraper of flesh was winning out against the ones of steel and concrete.  With her bust in the way, she couldn’t see what was going on down there, but she could certainly feel concrete and glass breaking against the inexorable advance of what must have been a wall of skin to the tiny people inside.

She tried to bring her left leg forward in a second step, but her outer thigh rubbed against the face of the left tower.  The facade was scoured away with a shrill, horrendous squeal, tearing away the glass and stone which fell down upon the survivors at her feet, and exposing floors of offices and meeting rooms.  Gilly tried to slide her leg forward further still to complete her step, but she felt the left tower lurch as her thigh continued to slowly grind against it, so she stopped.

“Shite!” she snapped.  Even skyscrapers were too fragile!  It felt like that there was nothing in this city that could withstand her awesome size, and making an effort to be careful was only doomed to utter failure anyway.

Gilly was stuck there - not in a physical sense, but there seemed to be no way she could continue without knocking over either one of the towers.  So she paused, trying to peer over her shoulders and bust for a way through.  Placing her left foot down by her right with the usual deadly consequences, she turned on the spot with what to her felt like agonising slowness.  Her skin continued to scrape away the front of the buildings, leaving dust and grime on her thighs and hips, until she stood sideways-on in the street, facing the leftmost tower.  She held her breasts up and out of the way of the roof with one arm under them, aware that were she to drop them they would probably demolish the top floors of the skyscraper.  Her backside pressed against the tower behind her and her stomach against the one in front, but, she reasoned, her soft, plump arse was less likely to cause damage.

It was better to get it over and done quickly, Gilly thought, so she made a quick sideways step and she was free.  She looked over her shoulder to see that the two skyscrapers were still standing, albeit with huge holes scraped into the sides by her thighs and bum.  The falling debris had made two considerable piles down at the bases of the skyscrapers, and were now the tomb of scores of people who had thought themselves lucky to escape her murderous feet, only to be buried alive under falling rubble.

Still, Gilly indulged in a moment of triumph -- she had accomplished something and had only caused minimal damage to her surroundings (she had since accepted that people getting crushed underfoot was just an occupational hazard of being a giantess and that there was very little she could do about it, so they didn’t count), and after the accident on the bridge she felt like it was worthy of celebration.

Then, Gilly looked down the street with yet more skyscrapers rising up either side of it, all reaching her hips and thighs at the minimum, and realised that she would have to repeat this process a few more times until she reached her destination.  Nevertheless, she felt optimistic given her latest success.  She felt as though she was getting better at navigating the tiny world around her, and even if the mere act of walking still came with a body count, that just meant that the tiny world would have to get used to having her in it.

A few earth-shaking steps later, and the facades stripped off five pairs of skyscrapers by her thighs and backside, and she was there.  In her wake she left the obligatory bloodstained footprints, but these were accessorised with piles of debris spread across the ground where her vast body had simply rubbed them away where she was too big to pass between the skyscrapers unhindered.  The highway opened up into a large, green square that was spacious enough for her to stand without rubbing up against a building.  Neatly trimmed grass was bordered by brightly colourful flowers and tall trees that still barely reached above her ankles.  The skyscrapers surrounding this park had hidden her from sight a little, though its inhabitants were aware of the awful shaking of the ground beneath with her every titanic step, so when she emerged into view and stood before them, she caught a sight of a large, dispersed crowd of people lingering at the base of the biggest skyscraper she had seen thus far.

“Hi!” said Gilly cheerfully, waving politely at them.

Shrill, mousy screams of terror reached her ears only faintly as panic ensued, and, just like the bugs they resembled, they scurried away from her, forming distinct groups that poured into the adjacent streets.  Most of them, at least, there were always a few too frozen in fear, too overawed by her majestic size, or simply too exhausted by prior flight, to run away.

The impressive glass structure she took to be the Raleigh Tower loomed over her, and for the first time since her growth, Gilly felt belittled by something greater than her.  If she stood on her toes and stretched her arm as high as it could go, she might be able to touch its domed summit, she thought.  Directly opposite it, on her right, was a smaller, thinner skyscraper that reached up to just under her chin, also made of glass.  The word ‘DRAPERS’ was presented neatly at the very top, just under the roof.

“There you are!” exclaimed Gilly, and feeling more than a little excited at getting closer to the end of this madness, she skipped on over to it.  People were still everywhere and were squished in the process, and lesser buildings swayed on their foundations and facades crumbled with every thunderous impact of her feet.  She stood before the Drapers Building and bent over, peering into the building itself.  She saw rows and rows of floors, each filled with cubicles and offices.  Tiny people stood at the glass and gawked at her, and she couldn’t help but grin and giggle at just how cute they looked.

Gilly considered how she was going to do this, as she hadn’t thought that far ahead, but she assumed that as a giantess she could simply order the tiny people to do her bidding.  So she tapped at the glass, which reminded her of the signs on glass cages in the zoo.  The glass spider-webbed under her fingertip, and the people shrieked and ran from her.

“Oops,” said Gilly.  Then, after sucking in a deep breath: “Look, I didn’t mean to do that.  I’m just looking for my boyfriend Pat.  He’s, uh, tall, bald, British, and has a scruffy little beard, and he hangs around with a little guy in a suit.  I know he’s in there, so if you bring him up to t’ roof I promise I’ll leave your little building alone, alright?  I’ll wait.”

Gilly straightened up again, and peered down at the skyscraper before her.  However, as she waited for the tiny people inside to get themselves sorted and bring Pat to her, her attention was distracted by the great monolith just behind her.  She turned to face it and saw herself, reflected back in the glass facade of this tall, broad skyscraper that was more like a full-length mirror for the enormous giantess.

Entranced by her reflection, Gilly stared at and studied it intently; it was the first time that she had seen herself since she had grown, except for the murky image in the river when she fell in it.  She had struggled a little with body image before, thinking herself far too tall to be attractive.  Of course, some men were into that, though she resented being admired merely for her height and hated those who were too self-conscious about being seen with a taller woman.  If only they could see her now, she thought to herself.

Unlike most tall women, Gilly lacked the thin, sinewy look stereotypical of most of them.  Her body was shaped like an hourglass, which she had been told was an attractive shape, but quite often she had been dismissed as being ‘fat’.  Self-consciously, she moved her hands to her stomach, which, while not completely flat like a model’s, was hardly deserving of that term.  Instead, the outcome of a lifetime of indulging in too much chocolate and not enough exercise had made its home where it counted, as far as she was concerned.  Her hands strayed up to her breasts, and watching herself in her reflection, knowing that hundreds, perhaps thousands of people behind the glass were watching, squeezed them together.  She knew that even if men had dismissed her because she was taller than them, they’d always fall for her impressive rack, now made all the more glorious thanks to her size.

Her hands released her soft mounds, and they jiggled back into place on her chest.  She slid her hands down over the inward curve of her waist, down to where her hips flared dramatically.  The grime and debris of the buildings she’d squeezed past clung to her thighs and backside there, and using her reflection as a guide she turned this way and that, and did her best to wipe away as much as she could.  The round, soft globes of her butt jiggled as she dragged her hands over them.  Feeling more than a little teasing for her tiny, captive audience, grasped her right bum cheek with her right hand, sank her fingers into the pliable flesh, then released it, and watched as it bounced pleasingly back into place.

She continued to drink in her reflection in the skyscraper-mirror.  Thick thighs that could topple skyscrapers.  A cute, round, innocent face framed with untamed ginger hair.  Pale skin marked with freckles seemingly all over her.  Then, her womanhood, proudly on display for all to see.  And finally her feet, which she hadn’t had much thought for before, now looked cute and sexy.  Her appearance hadn’t changed with her dramatic transformation, but now that she was huge it simply felt right for the first time in her life.  This was how a goddess should look.

Then it hit her -- she was a giantess in the city.  A real one, grown to an impossible size by unknown means and unleashed upon a vast metropolis teeming with people who had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from her.  Gilly thought of her fantasies about the raven-haired, tanned, toned goddess with red lips and saw that she now occupied that space far better than that make-believe giantess ever could.  How she had come to grow this big didn’t matter, only that she had and no one else did, and she could do whatever she wanted with the immense power over the inhabitants of this city that her size had granted her.

Gilly looked down at her feet, and saw that there were still people in the street there.  They still came out of the buildings in dribs and drabs, apparently willing to take their chances out in the streets after she’d very nearly smashed up a series of skyscrapers by trying to walk between them.  She considered the bug-sized people for a moment, mulling it over, and then made up her mind.  Her right foot lifted from the ground, swept overhead, and then stepped down directly and deliberately upon a sizeable mob of some twenty-odd people.

Unlike with the ‘accidents’ before, Gilly took her time to fully savour the sensations -- the mass of humanity disintegrated under her sole and the ground yielded under her weight to form a neat footprint that radiated cracks in the road.  The feelings she had tried to suppress all this time came flooding in now that she had allowed the dam to burst; an electric tingle rose up her spine and she felt a pleasing warmth in the pit of her stomach, but above all, knowing that what she had just stepped on were living, breathing humans made her feel big, and with that came power.

Gilly raised her foot again, revealing the gory mess, and swung it over a fresh crowd.  She put a little more force into the next stomp, and her foot drove her victims into a footprint more than five metres deep.  A change seemed to come over the crowd, becoming more frantic and hysterical as they seemed to realise that they were now being deliberately targeted for being crushed by the giant woman in some sort of sadistic game.  The shrill, horrified screams only served to encourage her more.  She saw them, individuals crashing into one another in desperation to get away, and a huge grin stretched across her face.  Her sharp giggle of amusement sounded like menacing thunder to them, heralding more meaningless death and destruction under her feet.

However fast they could run, she was faster.  Gilly merely had to lift her foot - her left this time, as she felt as though it was feeling left out from the fun - raise it over another nicely-packed group of people, watching as the huge appendage cast another ten under its shadow, and then simply let it drop again, extinguishing their lives with contemptuous ease.  She wished she had done this earlier, as though the hundreds, perhaps thousands even, who had been crushed in her journey here were simply wasted if their sacrifice wasn’t truly appreciated and enjoyed by the giantess.  Yet, as she glanced down the side of the street that had not suffered from her passage, it became apparent that she would hardly run out of toys here.

In fact, she was having so much fun exterminating the crowds that she had almost forgotten about Pat and the Drapers Building.  What she had fantasised so much about, stepping on people, proved to be so much more intoxicating than she could possibly have imagined when she was tiny, now that she allowed herself to fully indulge in it.  The rush of power was absolutely incredible.  So, when a sharp, metallic voice interrupted her play, she felt a twinge of annoyance.

“Ma’am?  Please, ma’am!”

She turned to face the Drapers Building once again.  A man in a suit had appeared on the roof with a megaphone.  He was alone, so Gilly assumed that he had been sent up on his own to speak with her.  She bent over, consciously sticking her arse out at the massive skyscraper behind her, but also to get in close without her breasts getting in the way.  Her fingers curled around the edge of the skyscraper’s roof and she leaned in as close as she dared for now, with her full lips merely inches, by her warped reckoning, away from the tiny man, who yelped and toppled backwards onto his backside.  He stared up in fear at the vast face filling his vision, one that was smiling down at his terror.

“Where’s Pat?” she asked, her hot breath washing over the terrified man.

He raised the megaphone up to his mouth with some difficulty, and said, “We can’t find him!  I think he’s left the building.”

Gilly pursed her lips and swallowed hard.  Of course Pat had abandoned her; he must have seen what she had become and decided to make a break for it.  She realised that she was stupid to have believed that he would stick by her now that she had been made into a mass-murdering monster, and that he would do the sensible thing by running away.  Still, the feeling of betrayal had hurt her.  In her own naive way, she thought that her boyfriend would somehow make this all work out, as he always had done before, but this was beyond his or anyone else’s capacity to fix.  She had spent her entire life drifting along aimlessly, pulled along by her parents and by Pat.  Now, she was a giantess -- powerful, indomitable, beautiful, huge, and alone, and it was high time, she thought, she started to take control of her life now that this gift had been granted to her.

The man on the roof saw the changes in the enormous woman’s face looming over him, and its size made the range of expressions seem exaggerated to him.  His trembling fingers once again activated the megaphone.

“Ma’am?” he said.  “You said you’d leave the building alone.”

The sound of the tinny, amplified voice snapped her out of her thoughts.  Gilly peered down at the man beneath her face, and considered just how utterly tiny and helpless he and now the entire human race was compared to her.  Pat wasn’t going to help her, none of these other bug-sized people were going to either, but the realisation was liberating in an odd way.

“If you found Pat,” said Gilly.  She raised her index finger over him.  “You didn’t find Pat.”

Gilly placed her finger down on the tiny man, muffling his cry of terror.  She held him pinned to the roof ‘gently’, and feeling his tiny body squirm against her relatively soft fingertip gave her another rush of power.  An iota of pressure, and his body was squished effortlessly against the roof.  When she lifted her finger, it left only a small crater in the roof and a red stain in its centre.