SULTANATE OF BASRA,
(EIGHTH CENTURY A.D.)
Cairpra had studied under the great wizard, Dim-Dim of Baghdad, himself. She had even married him! But, now he was missing; the result of helping Sinbad and his friends rescue Harun Al Rashid's daughter from Rumina's father, Turok.
So, when Maeve of Eire had approached her for further tutoring in the wizarding arts, Cairpra had agreed. And, when Maeve went looking for her pseudo-avian brother, Dermot, a foreboding premonition had prompted Cairpra to secretly follow her. A good thing, too, as it turned out!
Having rendered Maeve unconscious, through trickery, Rumina was just about to eliminate the Celtess when Cairpra burst in. Pinning the evil sorceress to the back wall of her rented room with clamps of solidified light. Unfortunately, she did not remain imprisoned that way, for long.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" yelled King Tut, as he rematerialized from the timestream.
Landing atop Cairpra like the proverbial ton of bricks, he knocked all the wind out of her. Which, of course, broke her concentration. Thereby freeing Rumina from her shackles.
"I don't know what's going on here. But, I know an opportunity for escape when I see it. Come, Little Sinbad! Time for us to leave."
A simple wave of her right hand, and the bottle containing the shrunken seafarer was telekinetically drawn to her. Following which, she teleported away in a flash of orange light.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Catwoman and Cicero had finally rematerialized in three-dimensional space, as well. The feline-looking djinn (still letting her think she was in charge) stared intently at his new "master." His eyes glowing with telepathic communication.
"No, I don't know where we are," she replied, rather heatedly: "But, I can hear people laughing. And, even some fireworks. So, we've probably landed on the outskirts of some big celebration."
"A brilliant deduction, my strangely-clad cutie!"
Catwoman looked up in stunned amazement at the hefty man standing before her. A man with an all-too familiar face. Yet, who had somehow changed his earlier attire for a Victorian-style tuxedo and cape!
"King Tut??!"
The fat man laughed: "You flatter me, my dear! True, I am of aristocratic rank and descent. But, nay: I am no king. I am merely Count Carlos Mario Vincenzo Robespierre Manzeppi. And, you are in the Italian pavilion at the U.S. Centennial Exposition, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania."
* * * * *
Meanwhile, back in 20th-century Gotham City, Florence of Arabia sat down on the left bottom corner of her bed, and set the shrunken Caped Crusader at her feet.
"Okay, Little Bat-slave. I command you to remove my sandals."
"Yes,...Mistress."
Two slightly difficult minutes later, Florence was barefoot. And, she giggled as she wriggled her toes.
"Good boy! Now, I want you to massage my feet...with your whole body. The same way you would if you were making mad, passionate love to me!"
"Yes...Mistress."
Whereupon, the mesmerized Batman approached her slightly taller left foot...and began to move up and down against its sole. Slowly, at first. Then, gradually accelerating. As did the ecstatic gasps of air that he uttered in perfect unison.
Florence grinned with fiendish glee as she watched this. Waiting until just before he climaxed to shout:
"Stop!!! Now, the right foot."
Batman was so nearly winded, all he could do was mouth the words, "Yes, Mistress." Yet, he blindly obeyed the new command, just the same. Again, starting out slow. And, again, accelerating both his gyrations and his outcries.
And, once again, she commanded him to stop before he could climax.
When she lifted her right foot away from him, however, he fell flat on his back. Almost totally exhausted.
"Aw!" cooed Florence (in half-pretended sympathy): "Poor Little Bat-slave is pooped. Well, as a reward, you can join me on my bed."
She picked up the compact crime-fighter in her right hand, and placed him against her pillows. Laying down on her stomach, as she did so. And, gazing at him with lustful admiration in her eyes.
"You might get your second wind back, a lot faster, if you took off those tight tights, Little Bat-slave. But, you're obviously too tuckered out to do it yourself. So, as a reward for that wonderful foot massage? I'll take them off for you!"
Whereupon, she slowly reached for Batman with her left hand.
tbc
Giantess World
