May 10th came again, making it the third anniversary of James and Abby’s marriage. A year ago, Abby had stood 5’ 4” and weighed 120 pounds. James had measured 6’0” and 180 pounds. James had unintentionally lost weight, now weighing 170 pounds.

Abby stood 12’ 4” tall and weighed approximately 1500 pounds.

“What’s it like having a wife twice your size?” Abby’s voice was loud and deep. Most of her bodily functions had simply scaled up, but her voice and her ability to hear had changed.

James backed up and looked up so he could meet her gaze over her breasts. “Well, you’re not really twice my size. First of all, you’re more than twice my height. But more importantly, you weigh over eight times what I do.”

***

Abby was well aware of her new immense weight. She had begun accidentally destroying furniture the week prior. A lot of the furniture that had wooden framing was breaking. Repeated impacts from her titanic ass had caused many of the joints to loosen, eventually leading to their catastrophic collapse under her bottom.

The first time it had happened, James had heard what sounded like wood cracking and ran into the living room from the kitchen. His wife was sitting on the half collapsed remnants of their armchair. ‘My armchair. I meant to think my armchair, not our armchair’ James thought, trying to reassert himself to, if not his wife, at least himself.

“Hey James, you can have your chair back.” Abby was giggling as she got up. ‘That’s one fight I’ve permanently settled,’ she thought.

Because of the destruction, James and Abby had chosen for their anniversary to purchase all new, custom-built furniture, steel-framed and reinforced furniture which was guaranteed to bear a weight of at least six tons. They had also purchased larger pieces. Abby had complained that “little people furniture” was uncomfortable because she wound up bending her knees up to keep her feet flat on the ground in front of her. James disliked the new furniture pieces because his own feet dangled well above the floor. Abby’s did as well, slightly, but that was because they both knew she would grow into it shortly. James would be stuck having to climb the furniture for so long as she still wanted to keep it. Or whenever she ultimately destroyed it.

***

James and Abby walked down the street from their apartment. Her every step took her twice as far as James’s, and he found he needed to jog to keep up with her. She was looking ahead and at the ground, making sure she didn’t accidentally run anyone over by being inattentive. She wasn’t worried about stepping on anyone, but she would have given a stranger an intense kick if she had run into them. James, failing to catch his wife’s attention reached up and grabbed her arms. He had to nearly fully extend his arms just to hold her hand. ‘Not hold her hand,’ thought James. ‘I don’t have hold of it; I’m holding onto it.’ Abby’s hands were no less enormous than the rest of her. She could completely close each of her hands around each James’s hands.

Though his arm was now getting tired from being continuously elevated, his plan had worked. Abby had slowed her pace so as to not drag her husband along as they walked to their anniversary dinner. She started navigating him past the other pedestrians and James started to feel almost childish, and so he withdrew his hand. Abby noticed his withdrawal and realized what they looked like walking down the street. She loomed over her husband, teasing him, “What’s the matter, sweetie? Are you getting tired? Do you need to be carried?”

“I can walk perfectly fine. It’s not my fault my wife has the fastest walking pace in the world.” It was their anniversary, and James realized he should stop whining to his wife. “I would love to be picked up, honey. But we’re almost at the restaurant.”

“Alright, sweetie, you just let me know if I need to carry you home.”

They arrived at LaBeef’s, a high end restaurant that had been opened by a mad Hollywood actor. Abby was having trouble with doors throughout the city, and most of the normal world for that matter. Most doorways were only 6’ 8” in height with typical indoor ceilings reaching 8’ in height. Fortunately, most restaurants and stores had much higher ceilings. Unfortunately, only a handful had tall doors, and even those typically only reached 8’. She hadn’t seen a door she could walk through upright for several months.

‘It would be easy enough if I could just get on my hands and knees,’ she thought. Normally, that is exactly what she would do. Tonight though, she had gotten dressed up and was wearing a “little” black dress. Getting on her hands and knees could easily expose her panties, a scandal which might make her continuing existence as a role model to young girls difficult. Instead, she awkwardly got onto her knees, keeping one hand tugging on the back of her dress as she stooped over and slowly walked on her knees through the doorway. After making it inside, she cautiously stood back up to her full height. She had a couple feet in clearance from the ceiling, but she still worried whenever she stood up that she might hit her head. She noted that a few of the light fixtures would hit her in the face if she wasn’t careful.

James was smartly dressed, wearing nice pants, a dress shirt, and a tweed jacket. He had gone without the tie, or an undershirt, revealing some of his chest hair beneath his neck. When they arrived at the table, the waiter directed Abby towards a specially reinforced and extra wide chair. They hadn’t gotten the height of table right though. ‘Sweet Christ, it only comes up to her shins.’ James noticed the brief look of annoyance on Abby’s face before she put on a smile. James knew her well enough to know she was deliberately projecting positivity, which just reinforced to James that she was annoyed.

James took his seat opposite his wife. ‘Every time we go out he gets small and further away,’ she thought. James was looking into her eyes, a look of happiness and enamorment on his face. She felt like an adult sat at a child’s tea party with the table so low, but at least it seemed to suit her husband.

The waiter came to take their order. “What the mister and misses have for dinner tonight?” The waiter had primarily addressed James. Abby was not used to being ignored given the way her stature usually attracted attention, and something in what the waiter had said made her feel as though he were being sexist. She decided to speak up.

Abby started by clearing her throat, which due to her size sounded more like a loud growl. Abby heard it as well, breaking her concentration and causing the speech she had prepared on the spot to escape her. She recovered, deciding to simply be assertive and place their order. “We would like four bottles of the port, and a baker’s dozen of the New York strip steak dinners. We’ll also have three of the deviled egg appetizers.”

“Very good, madam.” The waiter, was thin and well dressed. Perhaps the same height as James, by Abby’s estimation. She watched him turn his attention back to her husband. “With an order like that it’s no wonder she has grown so large.” Abby was firmly decided she did not like this waiter. In another restaurant, on another occasion, she probably would have called this man out. But it was her anniversary and she didn’t want to make a scene, so she put on a smile as he turned and left their table.

She stopped him, covering his shoulder with one of her hands.

“Oh, waiter, please don’t forget to have all of those steaks come out at the same time.”

“Of course, madam.” Abby took her hand off his shoulder and turned back to her husband.

“What an asshole,” said James after the waiter had gotten out of hearing range. James was a perceptive and empathetic man, and he had recognized almost exactly how his wife was feeling. Those were some of his best qualities, in Abby’s opinion.

Minutes later their appetizers and wine arrived, fortunately with less commentary. Abby was emptying her wine glass nearly every three sips, while James slowly worked to drink the strong, fortified wine. Abby was, as usual, eating the lion’s share of the food on the table. She was placing the deviled eggs entirely into her mouth. ‘It’s only the fact that putting in three or four at a time would be messy that’s keeping her from doing so,’ thought James. ‘Same with that wine. At home, she’d either have that massive goblet of hers or just drink it straight from the bottle.’ Abby held wine bottles the way most men would hold a bottle of beer. James watched his wife place another deviled egg in her mouth. He realized she wasn’t chewing them.

James’s observation was correct. Abby had been sucking and scooping the yolk-mixture out with her tongue within her mouth and then swallowing it all whole. ‘I may have to act fancy, but I think I can play with my food a little in my own mouth,’ she thought.

Abby had consumed two bottles of the port by the time the main course arrived. ‘She’s actually looking a little tipsy,’ thought James. His wife had not been truly shitfaced since developing her TS. ‘I need to take my time so she can sober up a little during dinner. I can’t have her stumbling home.’ 

Fortunately, her attention had been taken off of her wine when the food arrived. She started eating her dinners, one after the other. She had eaten five when she decided to slow down a little and look at James. He had made it halfway through his steak and had only barely touched his baked potato and his broccoli. ‘He’s going slow now,’ she thought, ‘but why? He knows he’s the one who has to keep up with the pace. Wait? Oh wow, he’s getting full. Well, whatever is left on his plate is something else I can eat tonight.’ Abby filled her wine glass, emptied it, filled it, emptied it again, and refilled it a third time.

‘She’s getting drunk tonight,’ thought James. Her movements were starting to become clumsy. She was making eyes at him. ‘She’s feeling amorous.’ She turned her eyes from James back to the steak in front of her. She speared the whole thing with her fork, which she could just barely get a hold of with her long fingers. As she brought the steak up to her mouth the fork slipped from her grasp, and the steak and fork fell together into her cleavage. She looked down with surprise at big grease spot now on her bosom. Then he moved her eyes to James and started laughing hard. James laughed as well. Abby started to regather herself and reached into her bosom, fishing the steak out and bringing it into her mouth in one go. She pulled the fork out and put it back on the table. Her face was still red and her smile still present as she dropped the uselessly small utensil on the table and chewed her steak. She took her napkin and wiped off her breast.

“Is everything all right, mister and misses?” Abby had created a small commotion in what was otherwise a very quiet and dimly lit restaurant. James watched his wife as her feelings of mirth quickly left her expression.

“I need you to get me a bigger fork. Go to the kitchen and find something, because this little thing isn’t going to work for someone of my size.”

The waiter returned with a medium length barbecue fork.

“Is this more the madam’s lik—“

“Yes, this is perfect,” said Abby cutting him off. She returned to her food, having a much easier time with the steak.

Twenty minutes later proved Abby correct when James had failed to finish his meal. She made short work of the remaining quarter of his meal in a few bites. Recognizing her intoxication, James had texted her limo detail to come pick them up at the conclusion of the meal. ‘Now I only have to worry about a 1500 pound woman being drunk and horny at home,’ thought James.

***

James was thankful that they had gotten her home safely. He had no real worry that her safety was in danger. It was what she might inadvertently do while drunk that he worried about.

“I’m not HIC that drunk HIC James.” She blushed after saying that. “I mean, ok, I’m HIC drunk, but HIC my points is that HIC I’m not that drunk.”

She had left the restaurant a little clumsily, struggling to get through the door. Eventually she had gotten onto hands and knees to leave. James had handled the check, leaving the waiter a decent tip even though he had been kind of an asshole. ‘She’s famous, I can’t let her get caught out in social media for stiffing a guy.’

Getting into the car had been challenging too. Sure, the limo had leg room, but she practically had to sit on the floor of the car to be comfortable. ‘At least this thing isn’t struggling with her weight since these things are designed to hold up to a dozen or more people.’ James knew that in a few months she might present trouble on that front as well.

***

“So, my little lover, what are we going to do now?” They had just entered their apartment.

“Well, I had dessert planned.” Abby moved over to the table while James went to the kitchen. He removed a large ice cream cake and brought it over to Abby. He went back to the kitchen and got her one her special utensils, as well as a cutting knife, a regular sized fork, and a plate for himself. James returned to table and cut a small piece for himself. The rest he turned over to his wife along with the extra large fork.

“This looks delicious. Where were you hiding this from me?”

“It was just in the freezer.” James hadn’t exactly needed to hide it from her. Nearly everywhere in their apartment had enough space for her and high ceilings except the kitchen, which was long and somewhat narrow. She rarely entered the kitchen herself, it was simply too difficult to maneuver. Only when she knew there was something ready to eat in the refrigerator would she go in.

Twenty minutes later there was only dirty dishes and an empty cardboard tray where the ice cream cake had been.

“Mmmm, that was tasty. I think I could go for another drink though.” James went to the kitchen and took out a pitcher. He mixed a quart of half-and-half with most of a handle of vodka and what he figured was probably three or four shots of coffee-liqueur. He added tons of ice, stirred it up and returned it to his wife.

“Ooh, white Russian, good idea.” She drank it quickly. “Now, what’s next?” She looked at James expectedly. James didn’t really have anything planned, he had thought to play it by ear. His pause signaled his lack of plan to Abby. “Okay, I have an idea.” She stood up. “Come here James.” He approached her. He lost eye contact as he stood under her breasts. “Now, take my underwear off.” James obeyed, reaching up and pulling her panties off. ‘You could make a pillowcase with all this material,’ thought James. His wife was already starting to drip, her juices falling on his face as he looked up at her massive pussy. “Eat up, James.”

“I don’t reach it anymore, Abby. Can’t you tell I’m standing directly under you?” It was true. Even if she was barefoot and he was wearing shoes, he could walk directly between her legs without touching her crotch. Abby started to bend down, helping her little husband reach her. Her clitoral glans had grown considerably. James brought his hands up, spreading his wife’s vagina and then started sucking her clit like it was a pacifier.

“Ahh… more tongue, James. Get your tongue involved.” James replaced his sucking with more tongue movement. It felt to him almost like making out with a normal sized woman. As he worked her clit, she was getting wetter and wetter, and her juices were dripping all over James’s face and into his beard. His neck was starting to get tired as kept his face pointed up into her tremendous womanhood.

“Ohhhh God!” She came, and James could feel her shaking. She clasped a hand around the back of James’s head she could force him against her crotch at the height of her ecstasy.

***

After slightly gathering her composure again, Abby reached down and picked her little husband up. “Do you remember what we did around this time last year?” James thought about it.

“We did some regular missionary,” said James.

Abby set him down in front of their bed and then stripped her dress off. ‘I could make a sleeping bag out her little black dress,’ thought James. Abby got into bed and lay on her back. She tilted her head forward to address her husband. “Well, come on James, get on me.”

James climbed onto the bed, approaching on hands and knees towards his wife’s vagina. As he did, he noticed her feet were pointed up. They were almost two feet long now, taller than he was on hands and knee. He continued forwards, admiring her thick legs. They were as thick as his torso. Finally, he got to his wife’s crotch. He stayed on his knees and slipped his penis as far into her as he could. He knew he could barely stimulate her by penetration anymore. Her vagina was more than twice as deep as his dick was long. He rubbed her clit with one hand and used his other hand to try to stimulate her inner labia as he continued to pump away.

After reaching orgasm, James had needed to finish his wife off digitally. It had been far more exhausting for him. He was still out of breath when she asked him to keep climbing up her. “I felt you down there, but I didn’t even see you.” A year ago, James has been on top of her, over top of her. She had looked up at his chest as he entered her. Now he didn’t even reach her chest. James climbed, up and over her pussy and crawled forward on her torso. He became unsure of himself when he got to her breasts. ‘Well, she’s big and strong. I think she can handle me laying on top them.’ He climbed over top of them, finally getting face to face with Abby.

“Nice of you to finally come see me.” She put her hand on the back of his head and brought his mouth to her for a kiss. As they started to trade tongue, Abby completely engulfed James’s mouth with her own, covering much of his cheeks as well. Her tongue filled his mouth, reaching so deep that James worried it might trigger his gag reflex. ‘I’ll need to warn her about that tomorrow,’ he thought.

She released him from her mighty mouth and beamed, “Well, despite all the other challenges my size changing has brought on, I can say that this is more fun than last year.”

***

When the NBL championship series arrived, it was early June. Abby had reached a height of 13’ tall. The rim only came halfway up her breasts. Her team has won every playoff game by triple digits, as scoring was just a matter of getting the ball to her near the hoop. She rarely jumped, but occasionally did to scare the shit out of opposing players she found annoying. In her last game, she had accidentally damaged the court when she did that. The lead was already so dominating at that point that the officials simply called the game in favor of the Balls.

Abby arrived to United Arena to take questions from the press for the upcoming championship series.

“Abby, do you think that the Cleveland Cromwells have any chance at stopping you?”

“No. I’m too big.” Abby was bored. ‘Everyone knows these pressers always recycle the same stuff.’

“Abby, are you worried that the NBL and Player’s Union are working together to get you out of the league?”

“All I can say to that, is that I am 100% confident that I will be playing in the championship series. That’s the only thing I’m focused on right now.”

A reporter pulled out her phone, saw something, and then addressed a question to Abby. “Mrs. O’Brian, have you seen this photo of you and your husband that has been circulating on twatter?”

Abby took the phone into her hand and brought the little device closer. The photo was of Abby leaving LaBeef last month with her husband. Her enormous red panties were showing.

“No, I did not see that.”

“Do you think things like this photo send a bad message to young women and young girls who look up to you?”

“Umm…” Abby was flustered, ‘what the fuck kind of question was that?’ but then came up with something, “Yes, I think it does send a bad message. It sends the message that even at an expensive restaurant, even when you’re celebrating your wedding anniversary, and that even when you are the biggest and strongest person on the planet, that creeps will invade your privacy and your dignity. I think that’s the message that the voyeuristic photo you just showed me is sending. Does anyone have anything else?” No reporters volunteered any additional questions. “All right, see you at game time. Dream big, dream bigger.”

Abby was suspicious of the timing on the photo release. It had been over a month since she must have been photographed. She suspected that the Cromwells might have had a hand in the timing of her ass becoming a twatter trend. She walked to the training room where she called for trainers to work on her body. The games were so little physically demanding on her that she really only used the trainers as masseurs and masseuses. A half dozen were working on her now, kneading her legs and her back. It was the relaxation she needed.

***

By the end of the series, Abby had reached 13’ 3” and a set of NBL records that would never be broken. She had recorded multiple hundred point games, secured the largest point differential for a season, for a game, and for a playoff run for the Balls. She had played offense only because her efficiency was so high there was virtually no reason for her to really bother running up and down the court. Her coach had also suggested this approach because it made it less likely she might crush someone’s foot or trip and squash someone.

“I just want to say, to all the young girls out there, that I believe in you! I believe in you, because I believed in myself, and I know that if you believe in yourself too, that you can do big and incredible things.” Abby had taken the mic during the victory ceremony. She was being booed by many of the fans who had stuck around in Cleveland. ‘They’re just haters. Their tallest player is six feet shorter than me, and that’s their problem, not mine.’

Things were much better when they got back to Chicago. For the parade, they had a number of floats and street performers. The team’s main float was a giant rickshaw, which Abby pulled along. The other starting players and their wives and girlfriends smiled and waved as Abby pulled them along. James was sat on her shoulders and watched the city cheer his giant wife.