Isabell's Revenge

By Vaalser4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my second giantess story. Again, it takes place in Europe, mostly, so the currency used is the Euro. If you don't like a background for the main character, just skip the first two chapters. You may miss something however, heh heh.

Feel free to post any comments, likes and dislikes. I love to hear from you what you think of it!

Have fun!

DISCLAIMER: This story is not suitable for minor's. If it is against the law to read it, don't. Every person in thsi story is fictional, nor does the writer intent to offend anyone. The places are real, but the writer doesn't own them. There is no copyright on this story.

z88;

Chapter 1

z88;

Isabell cried. Telling her friend Christine her story brought all the sadness back.

"He abused me! Used me! I loved him, but he was only interested in sex!" she sobbed.

"He" was Mike, her ex- boyfriend. He and Isabell had been a couple for three months, but now he had ended their relationship. Isabell had loved him indeed. She thought he was a nice guy, being good-looking, wealthy and a head taller than she was. How could Isabell know what kind of a bastard Mike was?

Having arrived at Vienna from her hometown, the hamlet of Medraz, Isabell knew nothing of the big city life. She had never been to Vienna, which was the capital of her fatherland Austria, and as Mike always put it, the "cultural centre of the world". She was a 21-year-old farmer's daughter, perhaps bright but naïve, having lived her entire life on the mountain meadows looking after sheep and growing grain.

However, her well-to-do uncle thought it was a waste of her talents and offered to pay her a scholarship at the University of Vienna. And there she arrived half a year ago, studying medicine, for she wanted to become a doctor in Fulpmes, the village lying next to Medraz.

She met many people in Vienna. One was Christine, also a medical student and soon a friend, and Mike, who was three years her senior.

He was from Vienna itself, and as a guy from the big city he quickly found out Isabell was an easy pick. She was very pretty, having hazel eyes and long black hair, reaching her butt. Her face was beautiful, but for one thing. She had a very big nose. It was easily twice the size of a normal nose, being 4 inches long, root to tip.

"He said my nose is too big. I'm too ugly, he said. Pinocchio, he called me. Trunk face. According to him, I needed a bed sheet rather than a handkerchief to blow my nose. And yesterday, when I met him and his friends in the library, he called aloud "Look! Over there, Isabell is coming to visit us! The nose already arrived!" Everybody laughed at me!"

Christine had to chuckle when she told that. She couldn't help it. Isabell shot her an angry look.

"Sorry, it was a reflex," Christine said quickly. Isabell sobbed again.

"He hit me!" Isabell said. "He hit me when I didn't want to give him a blowjob! And he said I had to be grateful to be his girlfriend."

"He HIT you?" Christine asked, shocked now. "What a dick! Did you go to the police?"

Isabell nodded. "They questioned him. But he denied everything. And since it was my word against his, they couldn't do anything. They warned him not to do this again, but since there were no witnesses, the police couldn't do anything. "She is lying," he told the police. "Look at her nose! Pinocchio is lying!"...and when I met him on the street afterward, he challenged me. "Do you seek trouble? You want to fight, huh? Come, hit me. Hit me, Pinocchio!" he said. Luckily, I could run away."

Isabell wiped the tears from her face. "Even Tom, one of his friends, tried to apply to his consciousness. When I saw Mike again at the University the day after, he waved his fist at me, grinning! "Why did you hit her?" Tom said. "She is too weak to block your blow. You can't do that. It's not right". But Mike simply said he didn't care."

"That little shit!" Christine said, angry.

"And when we were still a couple, he always bragged about his money. About his Harley Davidson. His large house. And about his favorite holiday country, Egypt. "Nothing for dumb, poor peasant girls. Egypt is a country for people like me. People from the upper layer. People who are more than others. Better. Educated people, to appreciate the vast, rich culture. Not as rich as Vienna's, of course, but still....You would be bored there, with your superficial, simple taste. Just like Vienna is better than your dog hole," he said. I always thought he was making jokes, but he was serious. For him, I was nothing but a dumb farmer's girl, good enough to fuck. It wasn't sex he had with me. He was masturbating with my vagina! I was just his plaything! He told me he had never loved me when he ended our relationship." Isabell started to cry again. She felt humiliated. "If only I could pay him back, that bastard!" she sobbed.

Christine put her arm around her. "There might be a way...," she muttered.

"How?"

"Well, my brother, Peter, is working on a machine, here at the faculty. He studied medicine and psychology, I told you that. This machine is still experimental, you know. It is, as far as I understand, some kind of Virtual Reality device. He wants to use it to study brain activity when people have all kinds of experiences, like holidays, driving a car, shopping....you normally cannot measure brain activity then. So, he uses VR. Making people think they i.e. shop. And then he sees the brain activity on his monitor."

Christine smiled. "You can also kill someone in VR. You can kill Mike, shoot him, stab him, club him to death. It's all fake, so don't worry about that. I'm sure you would love the experience."

"Is that possible?" Isabell asked in disbelief.

"Yes. And I'm sure Peter would love to see how the brain reacts to someone killing the other. You understand this has never been measured before." Christine grinned. "I'll give you the address of his workplace, and let him know you'll drop by tomorrow morning. You can talk to him about the machine. He knows more about the subject than I do, after all. Oh, and take a picture of Mike with you. Peter needs to know what he looks like, to program the machine"

Isabell left Christine's place a quarter of an hour later, holding a piece of paper with Peter's address. She felt much better already.

z88;