“I just worry that he’s bored with me”, Emma confessed over lunch with her mother. “And we all know what he does when he’s bored”. 

Her mother nodded thoughtfully. “He might just ignore you. But he won’t let you go. You’re his trophy”. 

Emma frowned. “How can I be his trophy. These bimbos- and I can’t even call them that, they’re normal girls, are so much prettier than me. How can I be the ‘trophy?’ “. 

“Because you are from his former life. A symbol of his triumph. You rejected him at first, now, you can’t get enough of him”. 

Emma smiled. It was true. 

“Every time he played with a city- dominated the landscape and millions with his hot bod and giant manhood, I was so turned on.. and then to find out, like when he did his prank on the highway, that he was doing it to show off for me”. She shuddered with pleasure. “And when he first brought me to live with him. He had eyes only for me. He took a few days break from banging 3 hotties a day. Just me and him had sex nonstop. This man, with power of life and death over the human race, was dedicated to me”. 

The waiter approached them. “Could I interest you ladies in dessert?” Emma looked down at the menu. “It all looks so good”. She knew she shouldn’t, but she was stressed. “I’ll take the limoncello”. Her weight had yo-yoed over the past few months, and it was now increasing again. She felt neglected hadn’t been fucked in a good long while by her owner. “I’m good, thanks”. Her mom replied to the waiter. They both took a moment to admire the view out the panoramic window of the building.

“But look at us now. I never thought I’d get to have lunch at the top of Burj Khalifa. And we don’t even have to wear the garb!” her mom exclaimed. 

Emma looked thoughtful “I know why he gave us permission to come here…He wanted to show off again. Not have us think that he is just some bully brutalizing those a fraction of his size, but that he can reform and build things, too”. 

They paused as the waiter brought over the limoncello. Emma’s mom had an idea- a great way to enjoy ‘new Dubai’, where alcohol was allowed.“I’ll take a rum and Coke, darling”. “Of course m’am, it’ll be right out”. 

The skyscraper shook dangerously, but the the two women felt safe. They heard pots and pans smashing in the kitchen and some cursing. They could see what it was. Everyone could see. Seth. Emma’s boyfriend. He had turned the Rub Al’ Khali, or the empty third of Saudi Arabia, into his personal gym. He would, to the horror of the people in the region, grow to his full height of 75 miles(nude and usually erect, of course), and jog the 1800 mile trek. He would come dangerously close to 3 capital cities. Starting just outside Saana,Yemen, he’d travel 800 miles east northeast in a beeline towards Dubai. Then 150 miles out, he’d hook at a left towards Riyadh. Then, a 90 degree left turn back to the origin. They knew that he didn’t even have to crush them under his body. He just had to get a little closer to kill the millions with earthquakes that would level all the lifetime of work. Slaves, toiling in the heat, the most brilliant engineers with cutting edge skyscraper designs, would have their life’s work wasted, if he chose it.

The two women admired him as he came closer and closer into view. Even at 800 miles away, you could see him, though he only took up a small portion of the horizon. The sharp angles of his face were grit with concentration and sweat poured off him in the absurdly high temperatures. Emma watched as her man jogged towards her. Sweat rolled off his hard abs. She admired his manhood. In doing so, she began to daydream.

She imagined bead of sweat running down his balls, and gravity doing its work. At breakneck speeds, it crashes down on the ground, not even drowning, but vaporizing a village. It was her in that village, somehow. ‘No. It’s me! I’m special to you- it can’t end this way!’. But as the drop of sweat descended, it did end that way. Back in the real world, she vaguely could sense the tremors became unusually violent. For the first time, panels from the ceiling began to rain down. Then, surreally, as if in slow motion, she could feel herself falling. No, not her alone, the whole floor was falling. Glass from the window shattered and she felt a sting. Then, the world went black.

…..

A few hours earlier…Seth’s view.

 The temperature on the beach is scorching, at just over 100 degrees Fahrenheit. I walk beside my new fling, the MILFy writer from the woman’s magazine, Ashley. We’re both fully nude, of course. I watch as her large, soft tits became an alarming shade of reddish brown. I snap my fingers and one of my female guards, I forget her name, hands me a bottle of sun tan lotion on command. My MILF friend grins. “Hold still”. I lather up my hands with the white goo and slowly began to massager her large breasts. I feel as the tissue bends to my fingers. I spend particular time around the nipples, as she bites her lip and moans with pleasure. But enough of that. It’s time for business.