Giantess World
“Because I’m a fuckin’ bastard, that’s why!” Bob whooped almost instantly, huffing and puffing. “Because I cheat on my wife, I’m a tax-evader, I skimp on restaurant tips, I don’t recycle, I skim off the employee Christmas bonuses, and I voted to block you from all access to the company!”
At this performance, Angelina broke into machine-gun chortles, again living up to her cackling sorceress visage; of course, she was the only person present to laugh. As she shook with merriment, her breasts, one still loosely contained in her dress and the other out to party, bobbed and flopped with reckless abandon. In the eerie dining room lighting, the giantess’s cleavage had begun to shine with a thin sheen of alcoholic perspiration. During this tumultuous round of quaking motions imposed on her breasts, the four shrunken guests watched those milky fleshbags practically twinkle with sweat and stray dabs of makeup. Even before she’d recovered from her amusement, then, Angelina repeated what she’d done to John, playfully raking her nails down his chest, then splitting his pants up the fly before pulling his dick out and taking hold of it. The shrunken nub of his manhood was piteously swallowed up by Angelina’s slender fingertips.
“Oh, Bob. That’s almost exactly what I wanted to hear from you, even though it’s not the right answer. That’s why I’ve always liked you, in the same way you might like a dung beetle for working so hard to roll shit up a hill,” Angelina explained, wiping away a laugh-induced tear and then continuing to caress her exposed tit, alternately squeezing different quadrants of the hulking monstrosity such that Bob’s eyes were forced to dart every which way to keep up in anticipation that she’d next pinch her nipple again for a dairy-flavored headshot. She held his dick in a vice-grip between her authoritative fingertips, but like with John, didn’t even have the courtesy to dry-pump it. “Similar to Monica, you give up immediately in order to save yourself, but you don’t even do it under the pretense of outsmarting your opponent. You just declare bankruptcy on the situation and then show your belly, hoping for the best. But unfortunately, while all of those things you listed do indeed make you a worthless asshole whose shrink-death would only benefit the world, it’s not the specific reason why you are here.”
“Then w-what is?” he pleaded, flushed as a cherry tomato.
“Oh, now that’s interesting,” Angelina drawled. “See, neither John nor Monica could lower themselves enough to go for the obvious and just ask me. It takes a certain kind of pathetic debasing I thought all four of you incapable of. Well, seeing how you’re throwing yourself fully at my mercy, Bob, and the fact that your chubby micro-dick does seem to be doing something down here, I’ll humor you. Do you remember the senior board members’ company Christmas party five years ago?”
“Y-Yeah, I remem… I… oh.” If such a thing was possible, Bob’s face turned even redder upon recalling the event. He went stock-still in his chair, jittered only by Angelina’s finger squeezing his miraculous half-mast erection. Again his eyes, cast in a thousand-yard stare, descended into the ever-closer valley of the giantess’s sweat-glazed cleavage, the gulch of which only widened the further over the table she leaned to toy with his genitals. While the still-sheathed left side sagged against the neckline, testing the strength of the stitching, the rotund hunk of her liberated right breast hung down like an udder. Her nipple even still dribbled the occasional globule of crystal-white milk that then plunked loudly on the table in a puddle, as the room was otherwise silent enough to hear a pin drop, or indeed a drop of milk. The longer Bob stared into the wide fleshy divide between those monumental sacs, and the larger that puddle of leftover milk became under Angelina’s overhanging chest, the more he looked like he might simply pop from the mental pressure.
“Don’t look so guilty just yet, Bob, although I’m enjoying the look on your face. We haven’t even gotten to the important part. Yes, obviously that was the Christmas party where you got drunk on cheap whiskey and grabbed my ass, the ass of your CEO’s wife of all asses. Then when I slapped you away, you grabbed it again. I trust that’s the same time you remembered, if you could remember anything at all after the hangover?”
“Y-Yeah, I… I remember,” he sniffled. Normally the loudest and most belligerent of the quartet, he’d gone soft remarkably swiftly, even sooner than Angelina guessed. “I’m r-real sorry, for w-what it’s… it’s worth.”
“Like I said. We haven’t even gotten to the important part. I couldn’t care less about you taking a grab at me, Bob. You’re so ugly and stupid and fat, it meant as much to me as being head-butted by a hungry goat. No, no, the thing that really got to me the most was that I’d just had my breasts augmented as an early Christmas present to myself, and when they were right there for the plucking, you chose to go for my ass?” Angelina spat suddenly, her frustration rising into anger. This turn of events startled all four shrunken detainees, including even John, who’d finally broken through the milk-soaked reverie. “Yes, yes, obviously you’ve also tried to stop me from taking control of the company assets, just like these other three fools, and that gave me cause to do this to you all now. But when it comes down to it, Bob? The thing that truly galled me was that you couldn’t even have the common decency, the basic human normalcy, to have a go at the expensive new assets instead. I mean, really. What kind of man are you? I’m sure you can’t ignore them now, but… that’s only because your fate is now literally in my tits.”
By now, Bob was bawling harder than Monica over this display of concentrated fury from a gigantic woman who clearly had the power to end his life, and which had seemingly blossomed out of nowhere over something he hadn’t thought twice about while boozily going for the highest-class asses he thought he could attain. Snotty and pathetic, he sobbed in his chair, while his erection evidently reached its potential between Angelina’s firm fingers, perhaps spurred on by a rush of adrenaline and survival instinct. He even came close to cumming, despite the tight and entirely uninviting grasp of her long digits, and it impressed the giantess all the more.
“This is almost too tragic a sight for me to handle, Bob, which I suppose makes you the new winner for the time being. Just look at the state you’re in. Crying like a little girl just because I raised my voice at you, and about to blow your load based on nothing but cowardice and two fingers in direct contact with you. Congratulations, you get to keep this size for now. Monica, on the other hand, is out of the running…”
“What?” the little woman gasped, still raw from her own personalized face-off with Angelina. She wriggled in her chair so hard that she actually managed to mostly turn herself around, despite being bound hand and foot. “Y-You said I was s-safe! You said-”
“Said, said, said. Who cares what was said? Words don’t mean much of anything to you, do they, Monica? Besides, you tried to pull one over on me, while poor Bob here turned into a sad-sack at the first opportunity. He understands the game better than either you or John: the game, of course, of proving your aptitude for being my bitch while I take back what’s mine. So, you’ve got to get smaller. Come here, now.”