The Ford Expedition rolled down the highway towards Lancaster with five people in tow. All five of the people in the car wouldve been surprised by that statement, though one of them would have been for different reasons than the others.
They were heading into Lancaster for a few hours before going to Washington. While there, the family intended to take one of the Amish tours, see the sights, meet the people. Sarah wanted to buy a quilt, and with an extra $500 in her pocket, she thought it to be possible.
As they rolled down the road, the fifth passenger in the car was just waking up. Greg awoke in the outer pocket of Sarahs carry-on, stretched and realized immediately that he was really, really hungry.
And that he needed to pee really badly.
He looked around the shadowy compartment, considering his options. After a moment, he shrugged and peed on the bag. He reasonedcorrectlythat the amount of urine a three-millimeter tall man could create would be negligible.
After taking care of business, he tried to get a feel for where he was. He could hear the rumbling of road beneath him. A car. They must be heading toward the airport. He considered for a moment, before deciding he should probably get out. After all, he was hungry, and he wanted to make darn sure that he didnt get checked into the baggage compartmentno telling where theyd end up.
Perhaps it shouldve occurred to Greg that the family he was with wasnt heading to the airport; perhaps he should have considered that possibility. But while Greg was game and driven, he had never been forced, at any point in his life, to think of alternative possibilities.
It made him bad at chess. It made him worse at this particular challenge.
Greg reached the zipped-shut top of the pocket, but being as small as he was, it was little challenge to sneak out through the gap at the edge of the zipper. Before he could get his bearings, the car turned a corner and he was thrown from his perch, down several stories to the surface below.
He hit and bounced, and then bounced again before skidding to a stop. He cursed, and thanked whatever weird physics had created this situation that he seemed to be more durable than he used to be.
Greg took a few steps and got his bearings. He was standing on a bench seat in a car. Sitting on the other side of the seat, as tall as ever, was Meghan, the titanic eight-year-old who was listening to a walkman and staring out the window, holding a half-eaten powdered sugar donut in her lap.
Half-eaten donut! Yes! Today, Greg thought, was going to be a good day.
Carefully he approached the behemoth, trying to determine his best approach vector. After a few moments, he decided to use the seat belt as a direct highway onto the girls lap.
It was an easy enough climb. Slowly, Greg was discovering that his minuscule height had some advantageschief among them, increased proportional strength. Within about three minutes, he was within a few dozen feet of the warehouse-sized pastry.
He approached slowly, like a lioness stalking her preyor perhaps more appropriately, a ladybug stalking her prey, ever-aware that a robin might well be stalking her.
Slowly, he approached it, his eyes ever-on the prize. The girls hand rested atop it, sparkly blue nail polish almost dazzling him. He could smell the sweet bread. And it was almost here...almost...almost...got it!
He grabbed the bready, spongy pastry and started to pull on it, to pull of a hunk to eat.
And thats when all Hell broke loose.
As he gripped tightly the donut, abruptly and without warning, Meghan decided that she was ready for another bite. And effortlessly, she lifted the donut and its unsuspecting passenger skyward at a rate faster than Greg could ever imagine.
He saw her lips open, saw the braces glinting like the underpinning of the horrible killing machine that was the girls mouth. In moments, Greg had passed between the lips and past the teeth, and the mouth shut around the donut and the teeth came down and cut it in half.
And all was black.
Greg bounced through the mouth, richocheting around without any concept or clue of where he could be. He couldnt believe that he was going to die in the mouth of a kid.....
What was he thinking? The button! He didnt have to die, he could just beam out of here. A million dollars to save his life was a pittance, hed pay his whole fortune. As he bounced, he started to reach for it...
And suddenly, somehow, he found himself bouncing into a large steel beam. It hit him about the midsection and he held on to it with all his might. In the three or four seconds that had passed he suddenly realized that he had time to decide whether to press the button. She hadnt even swallowed yet. If he found himself heading for her stomachbut he wasnt yet. And he wasnt going to give up until it was hopeless. He wouldnt lose.
The girl swallowed.
A million tons of pressure came to bear as the throat took down the bits and pieces of donut. The suction pulled at Greg, but he would not be moved. Daringly, he braced himself against the molars that the archwire he clung to ran between. And a few moments later, he saw a bit of daylight as the girl exhaled.
He laughed. He wasnt hungry anymore, despite his failure to secure food.
He was alive. And he was still in the game.
Now he just had to figure out how to get out of here.
* * *
After a few minutes, he was starting to wish for death.
The girl was humming along with whatever song she was listening to. It was probably too soft for anyone else in the car to be bothered by it, but it was deafening to him.
Whats worse, her tongue would occasionally sweep through the mouth, trying to suck up spare bits of donut that had stuck to the braces. And the tongue would occasionally insist that he must be a bit of donut.
He was starting to despair. And that was before the world suddenly started moving.
The girl had stood up, then exited the car.
Wherever they were, they were "here."
* * *
Meghan Michaels loved her parents. They were good to her, they put up with her when she whined, they bought her tickets to the Justin Timberlake concert even though she knew they hated Justin Timberlake.
But no matter how much she loved her parents, she couldnt really feign interest in the Amish.
I mean, Meghan liked electronics. She liked hair dryers. She liked school. She couldnt imagine wanting to disconnect from society so much that you couldnt even have electric lightsand she most certainly didnt care about those crazy enough to do so.
But she was a good kid. And if her mom wanted to see the Amish, shed go along with it.
Actually, she had to admit, the quilts were pretty. And it was kinda cool how the farmhouses were all old and stuff. And...
...darn it, that was bugging her! She ran her tongue along her archwire, trying to free whatever bit of donut was lodged in it. She hated having food stuck in her braces and...
...Got it!
* * *
Greg was still getting used to this strange world, and still trying to figure out what he was going to do. Thankfully, the girl hadnt said muchthe few words she had spoken still rang in his ears.
And then the tongue came.
It slammed down on him. It wasnt the first time. But this time it was insistent. It wasnt taking no for an answer. Feebly, Greg tried to cling to the giant metal bar but it was no contest. A few moments later, he felt the tongue lift him up and move him to the back of the throat, and then the terrible suction came and he started sliding backwards. Blindly, he reached out and tried to grab something...anything...
His hand hit a lump of flesh and he grabbed.
* * *
Meghan swallowed, and suddenly began coughing.
"Whats wrong, hon?" her mom asked.
"Oh...nothing *cough*...just had something go down the wrong way.
The girl followed along with her parents, leaving the quilts on the table for the next group of tourists.
* * *
Greg felt the air behind him, felt himself propelled into the void. He hit something soft, and then...nothing.
* * *
It was about five minutes later that he came to. He coughed and sputtered, and looked around, happy that he finally wasnt a part of someones mouth. Instead, he stood on a vast blue and white plain, with the colors laid out in a triangular pattern.
A quilt.
He looked off into the distance and saw a number of quilts on display.
Well, at least he wasnt in a hotel. But where the Hell was he?
Well, he knew one thing: he didnt want to stay here. Whether he was on display or in someones closet, he didnt want to be on this quilt when it got moved.
So he began to walk.
It wasnt a difficult journey, but it wasnt simple either. He still had no real idea of where he was or what he was doing there, other than that he wasnt at an airport.
He was beginning to suspect that this was going to be tougher than he had thought.
When the enormous figure appeared and started to lift the fabric, it was almost anticlimactic. He knew it had to happen.
* * *
Anna Yoder walked disconsolately toward the table in the corner, towards the blue-and-white quilt that she had helped to make, wondering how her life had reached this state.
Nineteen. She was to be nineteen tomorrow. And a week from this coming Sunday, she was to be married to Jacob Troyer, a thirty-four-year-old widower with two children already.
It wasnt that Jacob was a bad manquite the contrary. He was kind, and of gentle spirit, and he would make some woman a good husband. Indeed, he already had.
He just wasnt the man Anna loved.
She grabbed the quilt and gathered it to her bosom, and carried it over to the English who wanted it. It would fetch $400, easily.
She wondered if she was right to want to run away with Jesse Hernandez. He would meet her tonight, half a mile down the road from her house at three in the morning. She had to decide soon whether to follow her heart or her parents wishes.
* * *
The quilt lurched, and Greg instinctively dropped and grabbed at it, holding fast as it rose into the air. He got just a glimpse of his captressa flash of red and black, golden hairand then the quilt was pulled into her chest.
He faced a split-second decision. Should he stay with the quilt or the woman?
Quilt. Definitely the quilt.
No...woman!
* * *
Anna dropped the quilt in a bag, and smiled at the young woman with the baby. She seemed happy, thought Anna. She seemed content.
Can God really want us to live like this? thought Anna, as she took the womans money. Can He really expect us to give up so much?
It wasnt the blenders or televisions or computers or vacuum cleaners she mourned.
Could God really want her to give up love?
* * *
He clung to the front of the dress, a vast swath of black, and looked up at the girl. She wasnt very old, he thought, though he gave it no more thought. She was dressed oddly, and that concerned him. But he didnt have time to wonder. He had to get to safety.
He started to climb. The black dress was a pullover, he could see. Hed get inside that, and hed be safe.
Carefully, he pulled himself up to the border of dress and blouse. He leapt for the red fabric and held on tight, resting on the plateau above the womans ample breasts.
* * *
"Activate the size change now," said George Anderson, smiling. "This is our best chance!"
"Mr. Anderson? I dont understand."
The person on the other end of the line was perplexed. Anderson was happy to explain.
"Hes on the body of an Amish girl. Amish! Theres no chance if he gets captured by her. Hes lost. Grow him to seven or eight centimeters."
"But Mr. Anderson, you said you wanted a random...."
"I know what I said, just do it!"
"As you wish, sir."
* * *
"Warning: a size change has been initiated. Ten minute countdown to size change. Next warning at five minutes."
A feeling of terror swept over Greg. No! He knew at three millimeters he was towards the bottom end of the spectrum. (Well...he thought so. He seemed to remember a decimeter being about four inches long, but he could be wrong about that.)
He would probably grow. And given where he was hiding right now....
He started to climb.
* * *
Anna went into the side room. She had explained that she wasnt feeling well and needed to lie down for a moment. She needed to gather her thoughtstry to figure out what her next step was.
Carefully, she swung herself onto the old bed and closed her eyes. After a minute or two, she started to pray.
"Lord," she asked quietly, "I need help. Give me a sign, give me a message. Help me with the decision I must make."
* * *
Greg was unprepared for the woman to lie down. He tumbled down the shirt, landing on bare skin.
"Five minute warning. Next warning at one minute."
He looked around wildly, panicking that he had nowhere to run. He quickly made his way to the womans shoulder, and looked down at the drop. Hed have to chance it. It was his only chance....
Throwing caution to the wind, he leapt, landing on an enormous pillow. He turned and started running. He needed to put distance between himself and the giantess. "One minute, and counting."
He saw the edge of the pillow, but he didnt know how to get off of it.
"Forty-five seconds."
He slid down, like it was an enormous slide.
"Thirty seconds."
He dove around the edge, and hunkered down.
"Ten, nine, eight...."
He prayed he wouldnt be found.
"...two, one, size change initiated."
And the world shrunk.
* * *
Anna sighed. She believed in God, but she didnt really expect him to send her a sign. Calmly, she got up and headed toward the door.
She took a few steps, when suddenly a strange feeling overtook her. A feeling that she should look back. She put it aside; she had work to do.
Then again, the Lord does work in mysterious ways....
She turned and looked back.
And gasped.
* * *
He was at least twenty times bigger than he had been. It was a blessing and a curse. The woman now stood less than two hundred feet tall, but he was easily spotted.
And she had spotted him.
He knew now that she couldnt help him. She was Amish. They didnt fly very often.
But he also knew not to run as she approached him, and grabbed him, and lifted him to her face.
* * *
She studied the tiny man for a good two minutes before she could speak. It was a bare whisper, "Oh, thank you Jesus." And with that, she hid Greg in a drawer.
She went about her business half-dazed, and it was not surprising when her mother suggested she still didn't seem well. She wasn't.
God had sent an angel to guide her. That the angel was tiny didn't surprise her; God must've known that she needed to talk in private.
The angel would help her. He would guide her in this decision. He had to.
When her mother suggested, a few hours later, that she go back to the house and get some rest, she happily assented. She returned to the side room and opened the drawer, and noting that the angel was sleeping, gently lifted him and carried him down the road.
* * *
Greg had been a bit surprised by the woman's reaction, and he was dismayed when she stowed him in the drawer. He tried to escape for a good fifteen minutes before realizing the effort was futile; he was just too small to climb out of the drawer. Disheartened, he curled up in a corner to rest while he tried to think of what he could do next.
He fell asleep quickly, and thus was quite surprised to awake to a swaying motion, which turned out to be the swaying of the young woman's hand which gently held him.
They were going up her stairs to her room, it appeared, and he wondered what it was she thought he was going to do for her.
When they finally arrived, she set him gently on her nightstand and kneeled by him. "Ich bin traurig, Sie zurückgehalten zu haben, aber ich könnte nicht meine Mutter informieren von Ihrem Bestehen," she said quietly, though quite loudly to him.
"I'm sorry, I don't speak German," he said, looking up at her. She was quite attractive, he thought. He wished he knew a little bit more about the Amish. He wouldn't mind spending a little time with her...
...what in blue blazes was he thinking? Even if he did seduce her, what would that achieve? Eyes on the prize, guy, he thought to himself.
The woman's eyes widened a bit. "You're English!" she almost exclaimed, before stifling the words.
"Uh...American, but yeah, I speak English."
The woman looked up at the sky, as if trying to comprehend. When she looked back at Greg, she was obviously querulous.
"I know you were sent to me from God as a sign. And perhaps I should know what you are supposed to mean, but I don't. So I need to ask you for your opinion on what I should do."
Greg looked at her like she was growing a third eye. She wants my opinion? On what?
So he asked her.
* * *
Anna frowned slightly as the angel asked her what he problem was. Surely, God would've told his servant. Wouldn't He?
Perhaps not. Perhaps I must tell him my problem. And so, carefully, Anna told the tiny cherub of her dilemma.
"And so I don't know. Do I follow my heart, or my culture? Tell me, angel. I don't know what to do," she said, on the verge of tears.
Greg looked up at her, and felt on the verge of tears himself. How could he tell this girl what to do? It wasn't for him to decidea decision like this had to be made by her....
That was it. He just had to work her through the decision.
"Tell me," he said, "what does your heart tell you to do?"
"My heart?" asked Anna.
"Yes, your heart. What does it say you should do?"
Anna frowned, and then sighed. "It says I should go with Jesse. That he is the one I love."
"Well then," said Greg, "what should you do?"
"It's not that simple!"
"Yes it is," said Greg, suddenly gaining confidence. "Look, your family is important, and you have a different situation than most. But do you really think your family wants you to be unhappy?"
"But there is the possibility I would be banished...."
"Then ask yourself: do you want to be with people whose love is conditional? Who would cast you out for being with the wrong person? That's stupid." He stopped. It was stupid, wasn't it? And yet he thought back to the daughter of one of the maids, Julia. She had been his first love, his first...well, first in many things. Indeed, he thought, she was the most important woman in his life. At eighteen, he had planned to propose.
But of course, a Fletcher wasn't supposed to marry a maid. And his parents had let him know in no uncertain terms that his future financial independence depended on breaking it off.
So he had done it. What choice did he have?
And he looked up at Anna, and he saidhe fairly shouted"If you love him, Anna, you have to go with him. If you love him, no matter what anyone says...you have to choose him."
"This is what God wants me to do?" she asked.
Greg paused. He wasn't a religious man, but he didn't feel comfortable speaking for God. "What God wants," he said, measuring his words, "is for you to be happy. And I think you know what does that."
* * *
Anna felt lightheaded, but she knew the tiny angel was right. She loved Jesse, and he loved her. Her family would have to accept it, and if they couldn'twell, she loved them, but she had to follow her heart.
"Thank you, tiny angel. I will follow my heart. Tonight, I will meet Jesse and we'll drive to Atlantic City, and there we'll be married." She smiled, and then she frowned, just a bit.
"What's wrong, Anna?" asked the angel.
"It's...well, it's nothing God would want to help me with."
"What?"
"It's just...well...I want to be a good wife to Jesse, and I want to...please him. I know he has a great deal more...experience than I do, and I don't know if he'll want me after...."
The angel laughed. "You're worried about pleasing him in bed?"
She was surprised an angel would be so direct, but she calmed herself. "Well, yes."
"Anna, you'll do fine. You're beautiful, and you love him, and if you're willing to do a few things, he'll be just fine."
"Like...what?"
The angel looked at her, and said, simply, "Go down on him."
"What?"
"Uh...okay, this might actually take a while."
* * *
It did.
Greg started with the basicstrying to explain how to give a blow jobbut it was quickly evident that Anna had no idea what he was talking about. When he told her it meant sucking her future husband's penis, she recoiled.
"I should...actually...put it in my mouth?"
"Trust me, he'll be happy about it. Not that you shouldn't expect some reciprocity, mind you. I mean, you've gotta enjoy things too, if you know what I'm saying. Waitdon't tell meyou don't know what I'm saying."
And so he had to go on to explain what cunnilingus was, and this had Anna truly baffled.
"He would...lick me...where?"
"Lord, give me strength," said Greg. "Just make sure he works on the clitoris. Believe me, you'll enjoy it."
"Where is the clitoris?"
Greg looked at her, dumbfounded. "Okay, all right," he said. "I'll show you."
He walked to the edge of the dresser and looked at the immense woman. He wondered if he was doing the right thing here, but he decided it was in the interest of a future happy marriage. "Can you hike up your skirt?"
"What?"
* * *
Anna was shocked at the angel's directness, but then considered: perhaps God had sent this angel to teach her about this. Yes, that had to be it; God wanted her to be pleasing to Jesse. It had to be.
And so she carefully hitched her skirt up until her undergarments were showing. "Okay," said the angel, "if you haven't locked your dooryou might want to."
"It's locked," said Anna. Not that her parents knew there was a lock on the door, mind you.
"Okay," said the angel. "Pull down your panties, and place me between your thighs."
* * *
Greg was amazed. This was the easiest time he'd ever had talking his way into a girl's pants. He stood between two perfectly toned thighs, the moist, tight vagina ahead of him.
"God," he muttered, sotto voce, "if you don't want me to do this, stop me now."
God, for his part, stayed out of the matter.
Greg approached the vagina.
"Now," he said, somewhat disconcerted, "if you want Jesse to please you, you must have him focus on this area down here. Just having sex won't make you as happy as what I'm about to show you."
"Why not?" Anna replied.
"It's just the way women are designed. Here, let me show you. These are the labia" he stroked her labia, which caused Anna to let out a little moan.
"Oh my, what are you...."
"Trust me, that's nothing. You want him to work on these first, work slowly. You should enjoy this, the buildup."
* * *
Anna, for her part, was only partly listening to the little angel. The tiny hands were rubbing her gently, and she felt a feeling she had only felt once when she'd been touching herselfbefore she'd been discovered by her father. That had been an unpleasant evening.
But thisthis was different. She leaned back more, and listened as best as she could.
* * *
Greg was almost inside the vagina now, using Anna's unshaven bush to pull himself up toward his goal. "Now, what we're working towards is thisthe clitoris." He reached out at the coconut-sized nub and gave it a pat.
"OH!" cried Anna involuntarily.
"Thought you'd like that. Here, let me work on it a little more," he said, stroking and patting the clit, amazed at the place he'd found himself. He was enjoying himself, to be sure, and he was more than a little aroused, but he really was enjoying helping Anna. She'd live a happier life for having this knowledge. And so he was gratified when he felt her muscles tense all around him, and felt the splash against him.
"That," he said, "is what he should do for youand what you giving him a blow job will do for him."
Anna lay back, spent and happy. "Oh, angel, that was wonderful. Thank you for showing me."
"Anytime," said Greg, leaning back against Anna's thighs.
* * *
That night, Anna stole away into the night and met up with Jesse. She got into his car, they kissed passionately, and then drove off into the night.
They made two stops. The first was at a gas station, where Jesse bought them popand condoms. The second was at a hotel in suburban Philadelphia, where they checked into a room for the night. Before they did, though, Anna went to the lobby, as the angel had directed, and set him down.
"You have helped me so much. I know you are God's servant, but what can I do for you?"
"You've done it," said Greg, who was already scouting the room. He'd nap, and then come check-out time he'd be looking for someone with actual airline flight tags. He'd get to the airport tomorrow, damn it. He was going to win the bet.
Anna leaned down and kissed his entire head. "Thank you angel. For everything." With that, she turned and headed down the hallway to a very surprised and grateful fiancé.
For Greg's part, he was happy. He had enjoyed his time with Anna, and he was in a better position for tomorrow. It was only the second night. He had eight more to make it to Vegaseight days to win.
Giantess World
