You are alone, small, laying on a huge table. A light hangs over you.
Your heart is pulsating with trepidation. It is not the first time you do this, and you know what awaits you.
Suddenly, her giant figure emerges from the shadows before you.
You look up to meet her kind gaze, her big, deep eyes sheltered by a pair of wide glasses.
A soft, sympathetic smile crosses her lips. Even at that size, where just her face is comparable to a skyscraper to you, she has still that sincere and conforming expression that never failed to make you feel at ease with her.
You liked having her in control.
The simple fact that now she is absolutely enormous (at least, to you, since you are barely a few centimeters tall) should be enough to turn your blood cold. Your survival instinct is screaming at you to run from the titaness. Many, at your place, would. But you are more than comforted by her presence. Happy to know that she is there with you.
She raises one of her meteor-sized hands over you, and the protective gesture immediately makes you feel safer. Her delicate palm hovers over you, the warmth of her skin irradiating onto your body.
Her long fingers flutter happily above. Squinting between them, you can still see her gentle features, her protective look still fixed on you.
“Oh, you poor thing. You have gone through a lot, haven’t you?”, she coos.
You had. But all the fear, all the anxiety, all the stress of your life started to melt away the second you saw her. Big, in control… that is what you need.
You feel completely protected by her presence. Nothing bad could possibly happen to you while she was there. No bad thoughts or bad feelings…
All was engulfed by her.
You find yourself watching, as the massive pad of her index finger descends towards you. Her round, soft, warm finger brushes your hair. The perfectly lacquered fingernail, decorated in a shade of dark red, could very much hurt you if it wanted to, and you know it. But you also know that the thought is completely absent in the mind of your giant protector.
The titanic, fleshy pad carefully pats your head in consolation, a silly gesture, but the safest and most meaningful she can muster, given your size difference.
You let go of what little control you have. Her gentle finger explores you, tickles your minuscule limbs, giving you goosebumps. Your eyes are fixated on hers. You are losing yourself in the endless ocean of her big blue eyes, you feel as if you were detached from your body, your soul departing for a voyage in the eyes of your beloved.
But suddenly you were reminded of the presence of your body.
A stimulus bounces you back inside your earthly vessel. Your desire is raging, you are sweating profusely, and adrenaline is pumping, as you feel a familiar bulge growing between your legs.
You feel terrible. You look up and you know she noticed.
How disgraceful, how shameful, to stain that perfect moment with your carnal desire!
How insensitive of you to trouble and disgust your Goddess with your impure thoughts!
But once again, a look in her direction clears all your troubles.
She lowers her face towards you. Again, she smiles, sympathetically, angelically.
“Shhh…” her hot breath washes over you, with its minty, heavenly aroma. “Don’t worry. I understand. It’s why you came to me, after all…”
She slides her finger from your chest to your lower abdomen.
The heat and delicate pressure she exerts on your most sensible parts make you feel uneasy but pleases your body, which quickly accelerates the process already happening down there.
Then, she takes away her finger, the absence of the reassuring warmth makes you feel naked. She doesn’t say a single word, but even her silence is comforting. With a quick and skillful motion, she precisely unbuttons your pants, sliding her sharp red nail under the microscopic button and tearing it away with a flick.
Your muse gently and teasingly licks the tip of her index finger. Then, the truck-sized pad is upon you yet again, engulfing you in its warm flesh.
You feel it against your hardness. And in turn, she feels you.
You yelp at the unexpected sensation. She chuckles. Then, it begins.
A masterful and perfected movement of her finger, going up and down your body, slowly, steadily, constantly, investing you with waves of pure ecstasy. Your body responds.
Your first moments of embarrassment and decency are quickly washed away by the unusual, yet pleasurable sensation.
Your heart is pumping, faster and faster, as her godlike finger picks up pace, forcing you to enjoy it even more.
A couple of minutes were enough. You are unsure of the timing, given how lost you were, but you are certain it could have been long.
One last delicate, yet decided stroke.
One last chuckle above.
One last view of her monumental, smiling face, of her deep eyes, of your reflection in her glasses.
Then, your body reaches the climax.
You are simply overwhelmed with pleasure, in a sensation impossible to describe. Your brain refuses to elaborate on it. Any coherent thought or word is simply lost in the bliss. Except for one, the only thing you can think, the epicenter of your mind.
Her name.
She sighs and gets up – her divine visage disappearing from your view – to reach for a tissue box in the corner of the room, cleaning the barely visible droplets of your excitement from her finger.
Meanwhile, you are left breathless, pathetically humping the air for a few seconds, before drifting into unconsciousness after the effort and the overload of sensations.
---
You meet her outside, later. You are back to your usual, normal size, but somehow it feels… uncomfortable. Unnatural, almost.
Her face is now turned towards the screen of her phone, her eyes – that you have stared so much into – are focused on something much more mundane. A text, probably. You say hi to her.
She musters a smile and an answer, a shadow of your last interaction. You try to think about something to say. But before you can do that, she extends her hand toward you.
Ah, right.
You reach for your wallet and give her due compensation. It is almost all you had earned since last time.
She seems satisfied. You feel relieved: you have a purpose for her, even outside the ‘session’. You are therefore meaningful.
“Hey. I’m glad you enjoy this so much”, she says, finally speaking to you. “Oh, and if you’re still into it, next time we can try that foot thing you were so curious about. That is, if you still don’t mind being shrunken again”.
You instinctively look down in shame, and your eyes casually meet her old shoes. You imagine what it must be like on the other side of the black canvas… To feel the warmth of her fleshy toes on your diminished body…
Once again, you will most definitely come back to her for another ‘therapy session’.
Giantess World
