**Undefeatable**

The bell rang, clanging out among the stunned patrons- the match was absolutely over. One by one, then in droves, applause erupted in both the stadium seating and standing areas next to the various arenas.

The Best Breast Festival, an amalgamation of several simultaneous matches of mammary martial moxie, had at one given time multiple events going on- volley ball, cup crusher, all time favorite 'surrender,' and of course, Tit Fight- the unholy lesbian-leaning marriage of boxing and breasts that arguably brought over most of their crowds. 

The concluding fight, however, was a special one- firstly it was a Tit Fight, a crowd favorite. Secondly, it pitted a spunky (but ultimately inferior) redhead with F cups against Brittany, a stunningly tall brunette with astounding P cups- the pair of knockers clocking in at an astounding total of 60 pounds (about 28 kilograms in international tournaments, but she didn't like to advertise the smaller number). 

The match was short but brutal- essentially all the other events paused or stopped to witness the fight, even the game master of the event announcing it over the loudspeaker. The redhead, her mane of Crimson following her like some phosphor dot, jumped and leapt and struck down with her considerables, trying her damnedest to be the swift, knowing this was where her advantage lay. Brittany, however, was no novice- using her hands under and her breasts as gloves, nimbly dodged several blows and countered with her own. A few jabs, uppercuts, and her opponent slowed- finally, the haymaker of the night connected smack onto the side of her face, knocking her sprawling to the ground, making her taste copper and be not a little woozy. 

The pixied-cut brunette grinned and smirked like hubris, whooping and jumping up and down, much to the delight of some of the crowd. 

"And the winner," announced a hearty resounding voice that smacked something of Vegas title fights, "of this match is the reigning champion, retaining her title, Brittanyyyyyyyyyyyzillaaaaaaaaauuuuuhhh." 

Another round of applause, yelling and whooping. She basked in it, it making the pit in her stomach fill with addictive butterflies. 

"Fuck yeah," Brittany cried triumphantly, fists pumping into the air. She turned to her fallen opponent, who was just coming to, someone next to her- perhaps a boyfriend or trainer. She promptly gave the both-hand-bird to her would-be challenger, who gave a sour look at her- she responded in kind.

"Can't handle these boys, bitch!" She squeezed her chest seductively to accent the point. "Come back when you've got some meat on those bones."

The redhead wiped away a tear, sniffling malcontent at her once-opponent. Such was the third challenger this evening, and each had bitten the dust at Brittany's feet, in Tit Fight, Cup Crusher, and other games. 

As it stood, Brittany had the most points in the game- some three thousand five hundred; a grand gratis for being the champion of the last tourney, and the rest from matches in the various games, challengers (who double-or-nothinged their points for challenging more awarded participants), and exhibitions. Most of the participants had closer to a grand and a half, give or take- other players could challenge Brittany if they reached five hundred below her score- so three thousand. The redhead was one such, but as a result of her loss, she forfeited nearly half her points in the process. Each participant started with five hundred, and match winners were awarded another five hundred each for a win, a two hundred fifty penalty for each loss, and halving of points for each lost challenge to a higher rival. 

The redhead, her nose bleeding the same color as her hair, grimaced- she would challenge no more this night- even so, not that any referee would allow for it once blood was drawn. 

Such blood Brittany relished- she had a bit of a mean streak... Well, in fact, many would call her a right foul bitch- although, that label was worn with pride. No one could blame her- she was great at what she did, devil may care who thought what of her. In a world where such stuff was idealized, mental and emotional capacity took a backseat to physical- and it showed. Like the world powers of old, he with the bigger gun got the respect and hate- though now, she with the bigger rack got those prizes. 

Brittany turned round about face, walking back to her coach with awaited with a water bottle and towel. 

"How was that?"

"That was great, Brit, top notch. You really laid her out!"

The breast-blessed woman smirked something awful at that, clearly agreeing.

"Damn right I did." She took a swig of the water bottle, one that was plastered all over with her a sponsor's label. She wiped her face with a towel and took another swig, walking over to a folding chair that had been set up for her pleasure. Popping a squat, she harrumphed down and took a glance at her opponent- former opponent, rather- upstart out to make a name for herself. The girl was being comforted by what now seemed, judging by her embrace, boyfriend or husband. 

Whimpering like a puppy, tears falling from her eyes.

God, how she loved it. Loved it so much. Loved it as much as the power she felt, power like the thunder than now rolled outside the stadium, humming and thrumming. 

"So then," Brittany began again, scratching her breast and setting her drink between her cleavage, "what's next? How far ahead am I of everyone else?"

The coach, a bald man who might very well have been mistaken for her father (some tabloids reported it as so in fact), wiped the beaded sweat from his forehead. The thunder outside rolled again. Odd, she thought, it's the middle of summer. Rains don't come until later. 

"Well, you're about, uh, fifteen hundred points ahead of pretty much everyone." Sweat again beaded his brow. Brittany saw there was something else, and her mind grew red as her impatience waxed.

"...and?" She let the word hang out with a snarl that might curdle milk. 

Thunder rolled once again- louder than ever, closer than ever. A few people gasped.

"Well, you're safe but... There's..." He smiled sheepishly, "there's been a bit of a late entry."

A quizzical look passed upon her face. Late entry? That was ridiculous- through the years he's been competing, never have there been allowances made for late entries. 

Unless, of course, there were extenuating circumstances. Something unique about this entry.

Another gasp, this time eliciting a look from Queen Brittany. She about fell of her folding chair when she saw.

The largest woman she had ever seen was walking through the crowds... No, parting them with each step. At first Brittany thought it might have been an optical illusion, but...

No, she thought, suddenly shutting her mouth she realized was hanging agape, that girl is big. Fucking huge.

"Who in the hell..."

************

Brianna was more than pleased with the result of the timing of her little entrance- she had deliberately waited until the challenge match with Brittany was over, and then made slow and deliberate footsteps over to where the crowd had gathered to cheer. Each step created a ponderous sort of thrum, resonating even through the concrete and steel that was the stadium- even if she did have to stomp just a little. 

The crowd had parted for her like the biblical times of old, lending her a clear path to where Brittany now sat. 

She was a petite little thing now, she realized- even with her huge breasts weighing her down. With her frame of six something, P cup boobs and the seemingly eternal smug smirk that plastered on her lips, Brittany was still formidable- but only small. Petite. Brianna, however, was nothing to scoff at- she stood an astounding 13 feet tall, had (proportionally) I cups, and had a mop of tangled and curly black hair tied back into a pony tail, a mark of her Greek heritage, and, if tabloids were to be believed, evidence of Titan blood. 

She chuckled at the thought- she was only half Greek, on her Oma's side. Truth be told, Brianna was not stuck at a minimum of 13 feet by way of an accident in the lab. She was once a freshman research assistant for a brilliant chemist at her university- the doctor had been working on molecular weight and mass alteration when Brianna, only a mousy little flat chest, was caught in a matter alteration chamber. Terror filled her mind, but when all was said and done, she emerged out of the chamber not only alive and well, but changed. Over the next few days, she grew taller, wider, and most delightfully, her breasts had ballooned up. Not only that, but she found she was able to grow to practically any height above 13 feet at will- up to nearly 2000 feet, in one case involving catching a falling plane.  And naturally, the only thing a young lady of her stature and ability could do was going into moonlighting as a superheroine- so she did. At night, she was Biggun Brianna, defender of the weak, rescuer of the helpless, stomper of evil! And in the day, she was... Well, still all of those things- but she preferred to wear skirts and flip flops instead of tights and a mask (weather permitting, of course).

Despite the change, despite the terror that had accompanied it, she dug it. She liked being big, being a giant. She liked being able to help people in their need, rescue cats from trees, and, especially, be paid absurd amounts of money to do it. But yeah, sure, that whole altruism thing worked too. 

Brushing and hair out of her eyes and adjusting her thick black glasses (by fakes- whatever happened to her in the lab, she could have sworn her vision got worse in fact), she continued her romp towards Brittany, who stood out of her chair and scowled something fierce. She sensed an ill will in those eyes. 

"Fe, fi, fo, fum," Brittany said, folding her arms across her prodigious chest, "what beanstalk did you fall from?"

Brianna rolled her eyes- that was a new one.

"Tough talk for someone who's half my size."

She continued her walk up to the tiny woman, who, admirably, stood her ground. 

Confident, Brianna saw. Very confident.

As in response, Brittany motioned back to the redhead who was now skulking away. 

"Well, I've got the chops to prove it. What do you want, Big Tit Bri?"

Straight to the point, she thought. This girl was something else.

"I want to challenge you. I don't like the way you've been lording it over all these other girls, just because you've got the biggest and hardest tits here. One match, for your title." She smirked. "Or should I say 'TIT-le?'"

For split second, there was a look of panic in Brittany's eyes, but it was gone in an instant- not quick enough for Brianna to fail to notice. The hard exterior was back just as quick.

"Well, that's... That's fine!" She barked sharply. "I don't have a problem with that. But two things..." She screwed up her face and then smiled.

"First, though," she began, a smile creeping back onto her lips, "how many points do you have, dear?"

"Dear?" Came the slightly indignant query from above. She frowned and groaned. "I have 500. Why?"

Brianna smirked, and, if one was paying very close attention, relaxed her fists. 

"Well ain't that a shame. You can't challenge me yet straight off." She scoffed and looked this giantess up and down, from head to toe. She was dressed in a bikini with a special bra just for her, like most of the participants at the festival, designed to keep her boys from escaping. "You don't have enough points. By my count, you've still got to get two thousand five hundred before you can even approach me." Then, feeling saucy, "what, you think just because you're some two bit walking wrecking ball hero, you can just waltz in and do whatever you want? How arrogant."

Anger flashed and Brianna felt the red color rising to her cheeks. 

This bitch, she thought.

Brittany however, simply brushed her hair back and folded her arms back together. 

"Them's really rules, kid." She squinted her eyes and a devilish smile happened upon. "You're only what, nineteen, right?"

A few people in the audience, once loyal supporters of either side, laughed in concurrence. 

It was true- Brianna was young, only twenty, in fact. And yet here she was, being mocked by someone who was half her size but five years her senior. 

The color rose to Brianna's cheeks once again, furious. She knew in all reality she could handle this girl- just one quick growth spurt and foot stomp and she'd be jelly, toe jam. But no... That was too quick. Too final.

"And second, why are you here?" The question was odd, jarring, but practical. "You've got all the money you need. Why take the grand prize here?"

Now it was Brianna's turn to feel superior- she leaned over slightly, letting her height and enormous, heavy breasts jiggle with each motion, trying her best to lean closer in and over the now seemingly puny woman.

"It's not about the prize money, honey..." Brianna reached over and brushed a hair out of her face. She smiled saccharinely and fluttered her gorgeous green eyes. "It's about letting flat little bitches like you know your place."

The crowd exploded- cheers and japes ad whoops and catcalls rang from every single direction imaginable, but it was of no consequence to the two girls. A bomb could have gone off next to them, and it would have made precisely no difference- think of a locked embrace, lost in each other's eyes, present and future melded into one glorious now and forever. 

Now, imagine it with murderous intent. 

Brianna was the first to break off the eye contact, standing tall once again and turning about face.

"You just wait right there, darling," she called back to her tiny friend, "I'll come for you right away, right after I, heh, earn the right to challenge you."

Some whoops and cheers followed her, others went over to Brittany's side. Reassuring backslapping, shoulder squeezes, and third party trash talk abound, all intent to comfort her despite this, this fiend, this impudent upstart. 

Despite their intent, Brittany, still queen of all she surveyed in the realm of mammary combat, felt a pale chill creep through her spine.

*****************

Finding the first challenge was by now means difficult. Even as Brianna, suddenly struck with a wonder of what to actually do, surveyed the arena for open exhibitions, she saw someone bound towards her in an eager trot, her (relatively) modest F cups bouncing like mad. 

"Hey! Hey Brianna!" Brianna looked down to see a cheery little blonde that only came up to her waist beam up at her with a white and dazzling smile. Of course, after only a quick glance at her, Brianna was surprised to find that her teeth weren't the only dazzling thing about her. 

Flowing golden locked that framed a shapely Nordic face and spilled down onto her shoulders and chest like a summer waterfall, sapphire blue eyes that shimmered and sparkled like oceanic gems, and, lastly, a pair of well proportioned breasts that complimented her very well. 

Pretty, Brianna thought, feeling a tang of jealousy. Very pretty. This was the kind of girl I wanted to be in high school... But even so...

She looked down at her breasts, again so modest in comparison. 

In a world of giants with G, H, I, and hell, even P cup boobs, what could this girl hope to achieve? 

"H-hi," Brianna finally managed to spit out. "Nice to meet you. What's your-"

"I'm Erica! Nice to meet you too!" She practically vibrated off of the ground. "I've always wanted to new you in person... You saved my life!"

Brianna perked up at this. Maybe that was why this girl was here. 

"Oh, I did?" Brianna said, embarrassingly pushing a lock of hair out of the way, "well, I'm glad I could help. When was it?"

"It was the plane incident. You know, the one outside of Boston? You got really, really big!"

Brianna smiled at the remembering. She did indeed get really really big- almost a half of a mile tall, in fact- she had done so in order to catch a falling plane out of the sky when it suffered a catastrophic system failure. She had literally caught the plane out of the sky in her hands, all the while trying desperately to not step on anything or any one (she later had to fork over the dough on insurance to a rancher who had after owned some very very flat cows- the hamburger joke Brianna had made did not go over as well as she had hoped).

"Oh, yeah, I remember that. That was scary. You were on that plane? Wow. I don't think I've met anyone who was on there, except the captain... I hope you didn't have too bad a flight?"

Erica laughed, a melodious sound. Chimes ringing in the fall wind.

"It was fine when you showed up. I remember being with my little sister when you caught us- she looked out the window and saw your face- she asked me if you were an angel. And then, once you knew we were safe, you kissed the plane- she thought you were going to eat us!"

Brianna couldn't help but laugh, almost doubling over. She put her hand over and touched Erica on the shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. 

"Ha ha, well, I certainly didn't mean to scare everyone, least of all your kid sister. I think I was kind of relieved myself that I had caught you- I've never gone that big before then." She turned around, waving at Erica goodbye. "You'll have to tell your sister that I'm sorry- take care, Erica!"

"But wait!"

Brianna turned around, thinking she might want an autograph perhaps. It happened occasionally. 

"Wait," she continued. "I want to challenge you," she finished. 

Brianna was just as shocked as when she realized that she had actually caught the plane in midair.

"Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously," Erica huffed, a little more playfully than indignant. "I'm gonna be the next champion here. And what better way to start than to go for the other girls who are aiming for the top, right?" She smiled at the tall woman not unfriendly like. "You know, like you did."

Big Bri returned the smile and walked back over.

"I suppose you're right, Erica... Still, she continued, "I'm not gonna lose to you, even if I did save your life."

"And I'm not gonna lose to you, even though you did save my life! Thanks for that again, by the way."

"Totally, anytime. So, little Erica... Did you have a challenge in mind?"

*************************

Shared Squat- in retrospect, it probably wasn't the most fair that Erica had picked this one. The object of the game, simply enough, was to see who could do the most squats in one minute. Simple enough, right? Right. But here, at the Best Breast Festival, the only sporting event to currently be endorsed by President Trump, things must be complicated. Really complicated. Right? I know complicated. Believe me, folks. I've worked with complicated. Make complicated great again. 

The kicker was that each participant was given an extra vest that was the same weight as her opponents combined breast weight. Erica, despite her sincere belief that she was superior in terms of breast size, only added a mere ten pounds to Brianna's weight- a paltry sum. Alternatively, making Brianna feel almost guilty, the amount of weight added to Erica's vest was... Well...

Brianna was technically an I cup, only weighing about, proportionally, 10 pounds each. However, since Brianna was roughly twice the size of Erica, every volume, surface, or mass is multiplied by 8. Meaning, each of Brianna's knockers weighed a staggering 80 pounds each, meaning 160 heavy, sweaty, booby pounds was added to Erica's vest. 

Brianna watched, mixed feelings abound, as the light drained from Erica's beautiful blue eyes. On one hand, she felt bad that Erica had made what was probably a very brave but very... ill conceived decision. On the other hand, easy points- Brianna would get all of Erica's points if... Or rather, she thought grimly, when she won the contest. 

They got into position, opposite from each other across an match floor, Brianna lightly walking across and Erica staggering over. A whistle sounded and... And...

Erica tipped over almost immediately trying to rise again from her first admittedly admirable squat. It seemed easy enough to go down with the first squat, but coming up, not so much. 

Watching all this, not without a hint of schaudenfruede (ok, in fact, a lot), Brianna calmly bent her legs, shifted her arms, and then rose up again to her full height. And then, once seeing Erica struggling to get up once again, did another. And another. And yet another. And still another.

Soon it became easy just to keep doing them. She really liked Erica, and she knew she ought to help her, help her like he did at the plane incident, but...

This was just too fun. The power, the ability. The fact that it was just so easy for her. She felt like she was a giant again, little people (or villains, rather) right at her toes- able to do anything with them that she wanted. Overwhelming, complete domination. 

Hiding her smile, she continued her squatting, her numbers now reaching the high double digits.

Soon, the bell rang, and the spectacle was over- Erica doubled over, exhausted. Brianna, simply taking off the weights and letting them drop onto the floor with much din, started to walk over to her while glancing at the score board. A rush of thrill and dare she say pleasure washed over her.

Erica: 2 squats.

Brianna: 78 squats.

Holy shit, she thought. I completely slaughtered her. 

But was that any surprise? No.

"Well well, Erica... Looks like I didn't eat you while you were on the plane... But I certainly devoured you here!" Despite her better sense, she grinned widely at the now supine girl, who was huffing and puffing and having one of the many medics present examine her. Victory was a lot sweeter than she would think- hell, one might even have proposed that Brianna enjoyed dominating the bombshell blonde. 

Erica waved a hand at her and chuckled.

"I had you on the ropes. Now..."

She sat up, her face, still gorgeous and pretty and shapely and lovely, red from exertion. 

"I don't suppose I could trouble you for an autograph for my sister, could I? For a consolation prize, perhaps?"

********************

500 points, one duck-faced selfie, and a filched registration paper with a very large set of lip imprints later ("sorry you thought I was gonna eat you :(" ) later, Brianna had continued walking down the exhibition aisle looking for a challenge. 

She watched with amusement the various girls and their chests slamming into each other with abandon- Tit Fight, Surrender!, and, her personal favorite, Motorboat Mayhem. There was one set of tables at the end of the hall, however, that had caught her particular attention. 

Whatever it was, it was loud. And fast. As she walked over, she spied that two women, each situated at their own table, were crab shuffling all around them, slamming their breasts hard, like, really really hard down onto what looked like little white cups on a bunch of tables. The tables would buckle under the repeated weight, and cups, now crushed flat, would often stick to the under breasts of the participants.  

My god, this is weird, a small voice in Brianna's head said. 

As weird as a girl who grows tall enough to catch planes, responded another, more reasonable part of her. 

She walked on over, letting people move out of her way, none of them really wanting to stand in the way of someone who could very conceivably step on them if they chose to. 

Th crowd seemed to notice her arrival, and some even turned their attention away from the display of her mammorial prowess to glance at the tall drink of water that stood among them. 

Brianna, however, simply watched the match. One of the girls, a girl with long, braided, black hair with blonde highlights, looked to be on a roll- with each step there was a smooth action of the lifting the breasts or slamming them down, every two steps some half dozen cups would be smashed flat. The motion looked practiced, well-oiled; it seemed as though Brianna were watching a G-cup engine pump and pivot perfectly. The other girl, some brunette with a pixie cut and H cups, simply couldn't compete. She managed to smash the styrofoam at an admirable rate, but the after not a few steps, her movements tired and seemed to slow. Sweat beaded the participant's brow, and she began to wear an expression of tight-lipped anxiety as she plodded onwards. 

Switching back to the black-blonde girl, she saw that no perspiration marred her forehead. In fact, it seemed like this girl had trained for the event, and maybe even did this one exclusively.

A wicked smile crossed Brianna's full lips.

Perfect. What better way to advance than beat someone at their own game? Humiliation a bonus.

Watching became observation then, and soon enough, victory was achieved.

"And the winner of this match is, standing at five eleven, clocking in at G cup," the Vegas prizefighter announcer bellowed once more, "Ampleeeeeeee Amberrrrrrrr."

The crowd cheered, and in their euphoria, they rushed in, eager to congratulate their champion. 

For a moment, Brianna saw, herself staying back to wait for the right moment to challenge, double. She could have sworn that... Wait, no. She wasn't seeing double- another girl, rushing much faster (or being let in, she offered to herself) was another girl with black hair with blonde highlights, the same exact hairstyle.

Except, no, that wasn't quite right... This girl seemed to have... Yes, seemed to have blonde hair with black highlights. Dark lights. Black lights?

The two hairstyles embraced each other, each of them wiggling an jumping and making a merriment, singularly unique from the crowd. Brianna found herself puzzled by such a display, at least, until the two girls turned her direction. 

Again, that double vision, but no- twins. Ample Amber, it seemed, had a twin sister. 

She contemplated this, until she realized that most of the crowd was staring at her, some excitedly, others anxiously, all of them mouthing words and mumbling predictions and here say and prophecy. 

The two girls, looking at each other for a split second and nodded subtly to each other, began to push their way through the visionary throng and towards their towering visitor, their four G cups swaying and jiggling in the air.

She steeled herself.

"We saw your match with Erica," the one that was not Amber started. 

"It was a good one- a bit one sided, but-" Amber said, 

"That's to be expected," the other again.

Then both: "right?"

It was like left or right- which did she talk to first?

"Uh," Brianna stammered, "yeah. I guess that's right. But she didn't know what she was getting into."

"Ooh, well,"

"That's too bad. Maybe next time"

"She'll choose someone not so obviously"

"Out of her weight class,"

Both: "right?"

Good Lord, that was weird. Brianna lost track of who had been speaking. 

"Ummm. Yeah." She swallowed, a complicated process made plain to any casual observer with could see her throat. "Listen, guys, Amber and, uh,"

"Morgan!" Both chimed in, further eluding any hope of distinguishing the two. Then, mercifully, blonde-black spoke up.

"Mega Morgan, at your service!" She winked and saluted Brianna, who suppressed a snort- did these girls practice their shenanigans in front of a mirror?

"Sure, Amber and Morgan. Listen, I've got a date with Brittany later on tonight for the title. But first, I need some points- what do you say we do a match? All your combined points for all mine. And of course," she said with a smirk, "we can do Cup Crusher. If you'd like." 

Her words hung on the air, and the nervousness grew palpable. Bri was about to say something again when the two sisters roared with laughter and hugged each other in a weirdly intimate embrace. 

"Do you hear that, Morgan? I think Biggun Brianna wants to"

"Challenge us! It seems that way, Amber. But a problem arises, doesn't it? For one, there's"

"Two of us, and one of her- that seems to be a problem. If we each did"

"One hundred cups, yes, the disadvantage would"

"Go to us, wouldn't it? And that"

"Wouldn't be fair, no, not at all."

Brianna was becoming unnerved, in more ways than one. She's heard of twins being in sync with each other before, but this was something else.

"And so," the one continued, "it would have to be one hundred cups for her, and"

"Fifty each for us, yes! That way, the numbers are"

"Equal!"

They giggled and tittered together, as if it was the funniest thing in the world. Some of the crowd, gathered together to witness the trash talk that so many of them were here for exclusively, laughed as well- none of them truly understanding how complex the speech was. Brianna, however, was not laughing. In fact, Brianna was losing her patience, and no amount of he he ha ha ho ho could fix that. 

"Okay, guys that's fine," she huffed, "but can we please just-"

"Get on with the match?" Both chirped, followed by the roar of laughter, and Brianna felt the red rise to her cheeks. Again, that urge to grow and simply pop them under her toes came back. 

As she calmed herself down and reminded herself that murder was still indeed frowned upon by general society and yes, even illegal, one of them spoke again.

"We accept," she cried, smiling widely. "Mega Morgan and Ample Amber will play match of" 

"Cup Crush with you. But it's rather"

"Ironic, don't you think? Here you are"

"Thinking to challenge us at our own game, something"

"We've trained for weeks"

"Months"

"Years to become very proficient at, and here you are"

"Giving us the advantage. Talk about"

"Punching above your weight class! It seems like you've"

"Made the mistake of poor old Erica, haven't you? You're getting into something you"

"Aren't fully prepared to do,"

"Right?" Both cried out.

"Wrong!"

The bark issued from Brianna turned the twins and crowd to ice, and Brianna could have died then and there and she would've done so without regret. Gratifying as hell. 

"You're wrong, tweedledee and tweedledum." She felt the courage go back into her. "I know exactly what I'm doing. In fact," she said, setting her hands on shapely hips, "I think we should up the stakes a little bit. Oh come on, you didn't really think a woman who could catch a plane out of the sky didn't know herself? Get real, guys."

The twins looked at each other cautiously.

"Let's have a little fun- if you guys agree to it, that is. How about," she set a finger to her pouted lips, "I get to crush a thousand cups, while you two only so your two hundred. How does that sound?"

She chuckled and leaned down. 

"Unless, of course, you think I'm still punching above my weight."

**********************

It took not but five minutes to adjust the tables for height and amount, and a dozen volunteers from the crowd to lay out the extra nine hundred cups. The crowd had grown to quite the substantially number, with the initial showdown with Brittany and her frankly anticlimactic fight with Erica prompting further inquiry. Brianna, taking her stance at the modified tables, did a quick glance around the multitude to see if a certain bitchy blonde was watching. No dice. 

Still, her audience not as now important, she was able to focus on the upcoming challenge. 

?!?!?!?

Despite her bravado, sometimes Brianna wished that her mouth didn't run faster than her brain. Suggesting she take on one thousand cups was, to be sure, full of delicious, high caloric high fat full of gluten dramatic, sometimes she wished that she hadn't even so quick to do so. Make no mistake, Brianna knew full well that she could take these girls and any other flat chested little woman any time or day of the week- but boy howdy, did she have to cut it so close?

No matter- the gears were set in motion and she couldn't back out now- not with so much at stake here. At the referee's behest, the three girls got into position in front of their tables- each one situated and poised to begin the contest with a mighty slam. 

Another glance over at her competitors- both smiling and looking at each other, as if they truly were in psychic sync and it wasn't just some practiced parlor trick. 

Focus, she scolded herself, focus. You've saved lives. Surely you can smash cups. 

For that last second, the whole of the arena held its collective breath- the silence seemed to hang in the air with an icy finality and time seemed to stretch on forever. 

The small shrill whistle blew out, and the game began. Six breasts clocking in at nearly a total of three hundred pounds crashed into the tables, rattling them and causing even the cups, taped down for convenience, to shake wildly. Brianna shot out as stomped her feet right, throwing one breast down and pulling up another one to, ironically, cock it. She crossed her foot over the other, her submissive left arcing back behind the right leg, and planting toes (a lovely shade of soft pink) on the ground. She would then pivot her body to the right, and then, with the force of a quarterback sack, slam her breast into the table, crushing some two dozen cups under the weight. She brought her other breast to bare, pulling the hammer as one might say, and then shift in her foot and weight once more, starting the cycle once more. 

Fast- inhumanly fast! In a second, she might have repeated this cycle twice, maybe even thrice. 

Compared to the twins Amber and Morgan, it might as well have been greased lightning. The two, each rotating counterclockwise in their table and bringing both breasts down hard on some half dozen cups each, each motion costing them two steps, and two seconds to cock, push, and reload their boobguns. 

Brianna continued to attack down, each knocker nearly nicking all knickknacks near- or rather, threatening to knock everything aside with each strike. Surely, if any were in doubt of her prodigious powers, there were no such nonbelievers anymore. 

The onslaught and hyper speed of Brianna's actions did not go unnoticed by even the focused twins- both stole glances from their own work to that of their challenger. And like any time one doesn't keep their eye on the prize, they begin to falter.

Morgan was the first to make a misstep- in her haste to catch up and remain competent, as tripped over their foot, eliciting a scream from her mouth. Amber, by either sibling psionics or just plain old alarm, looked up from her own to see what had befallen her sister. As a result, by either intention or not, she slowed, her beasts not slamming at the rates they needed to be- though, to be honest, even that wasn't good enough.

"Noooooo," Amber lamented, completely out of tune with her sister. She was gripped suddenly by that unholy and overpowering panic that came on from fear and evidence of loss or falling behind, which, because there is no just and loving God in the grand Watch Without a Watchmaker existence, made you even worse and slow and behind-fallen. 

Brianna, though. 

Brianna, tho, fam. Hella lit. 

By time only some thirty eight cups between the twins were crushed, Brianna had crossed the six hundred mark, and, true to her word, showed no signs of stopping. Again, Brianna is struck by that curious feeling she felt while competing against Erica, save it more satisfying- utter and total domination. The feeling of victory, one sided like a war between Pygmies and the Special Air Service on a flat plane. 

It excited her, made her cocky. But who was to argue? Not a one.

Even as the others get back into their groove, the outcome is inevitable, and everyone in the room, save for Morgan and Amber, know it. 

The final stretch, fifty six to nine hundred and sixty two- Brianna, knowing her time was close, kept on steady, right up until the very last throw- pausing but a split second to cock not one but two breasts, she arched her back as then, putting we full mass behind it, bent over and crashed into the table that held the very last dozen cups. The table, a industrial strength one made specifically for large loads to be dropped on it, buckled and role under the strain, splitting clean in half. 

Despite the hundreds or so of people cheering for her, Brianna could only here her own heartbeat. She had done it! She knew she would have, but... Still: sweet sweet victory. 

Pushing up her glasses that had become askew and parting the crowd, she walked, a little more haughtily than necessary, over to where the two twins were, of all things, arguing. 

"Shut up"

"No you shut up- if you hadn't have screwed up like did"

"Oh that's bullshit! You were totally off balance and out of rhythm and"

"You're full of it, I was doing great until"

"But you"

"No, I was"

"Absolutely ridiculous"

"Girls!" Brianna had barked, and they both looked right up at her, as if they didn't notice the arrival of a thirteen foot giantess earlier. "Come on now, don't be so petty- you're sisters for crying out loud. What ever happened to peace and harmony? Shouldn't you two be agreeing on how badly you lost to me and how you now owe me all of your points, what, some fifteen hundred, I think?"

If looks could kill, Brianna would be toes up. 

Brianna laughed aloud, a bellowing and victorious sound that filled the room, even with the roaring crowd. 

"Well, whatever you do, don't take too long in your argument- I've got a head bitch in charge to deal with..."

********************

"Are you sure you want to do this?" 

Brianna offered concernedly at the small short haired woman standing in front of her. Her name was Tessa, and she had literally challenged Brianna almost immediately after she was awarded the points from her fight with the twins. She was a pretty girl to be sure, but something about her, with her pixie haircut and almost chiseled scowl etched into her face, that made her seem somewhat... Boyish. Still, with only five hundred points to go until she could effectively challenge Brittany once again, Brianna accepted Tessa's brazen offer to battle. Still, though, she couldn't help but wonder at the effectiveness or planning of this woman... Or any of ones she had taken on that knight, in fact. Each of them, all of them, had fallen to her onslaught of size. Brianna's sheer size itself gave her an unfair advantage in every situation here, and, more than like, win her the championship. Still, it didn't stave off the fact that these girls seemed to throw themselves under her feet as she stomped at any opportunity- kind of like those weird macrophiles she had encountered once while she was very tall; she had once unintentionally hospitalized a guy after stepping on him and breaking all of his ribs. She was puzzled, and frankly, quite unnerved at the fact that he had jumped in front of her footfall by design. 

Still, they tried. As of now, Brianna was pinned against a wall, trying her hardest to not be underwhelmed by the I cups of Tessa, who had simply nodded and continued her scowl. 

"I'm sure," she piped in, trying to climb and gain purchase to shove her breasts and pin her to the wall. "I need that money for law school."

Brianna seemed to consider this and nodded thoughtfully. Tessa simply grunted from strain. 

"Ohh, a law girl then. That's cool. My aunt went to law school, actually- as said it was boring but she found some really useful gems in there. She's an attorney now for a firm out in California. Uh, their workplace accident division, I think. She makes, like, crazy good bank."

She was hoping to prompt a response from the tiny woman, but there was none. Then it hit her- she didn't feel much of anything- not, yknow, emotionally or whatever, but literally nothing- this woman was struggling, doing her damnedest to use her God given gifts to press Brianna into the wall and and make her surrender... 

But the effect was... Rather underwhelming. 

"Oh," Brianna said, with a slight smirk, feeling a little more saucy than need be, "has the game started yet? I can't tell."

If looks... No, if scowls could kill. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude. But I just..."

Tessa had jumped up with a roar and slammed her breasts onto Brianna's startled face, covering them in the silky sports too that was specifically created for this competition to hold the oversized boulders the games hinged upon. 

"Hhhh." Brianna yelped muffled, her nose scrunched up against the admittedly soft breasts. 

"Surrender!" Tessa cried, the voice belying the size of her. "Surrender now, Brianna!"

"Nuh," was the unenthusiastic, muffled reply. 

It was child's play- nothing she did, not pushing, pulling, jumping, nor pathetic attempts at holds could avail Tessa against Biggun Brianna. She was beginning to get somewhat... Frustrated. Both of them were, in fact- Tessa, by way of her dogged resistance to the fact, despite her wishes, that she wasn't going to make Brianna surrender. Brianna, in part because she was... Well, annoyed, and also because Tessa's feet and hands dug into her body.

Still.

It was telling, and the fact that previously came to her, the idea that she was indomitable as her giant self became more solidified. 

She liked the feeling, and after only a little prompting, she began to wonder... 

Did it have to stop with just these small fry festivals? What if she could go... Bigger? 

Like, nationwide? Go back to her half mile size, and, and...

Stay that way? Walk over (or onto) the White House, stage a one woman coup d'état. 

Who could stop her? No one. The national guard? Marines?

She'd smashed cars flat before. Tanks, humvees, and soldiers wouldn't be any different. 

And if an entire army came at me, she thought, a wicked smile coming across her lips, I'd always have a food source... 

NO.

No.

Brianna closed her eyes, embarrassed at herself. Such thoughts came occasionally, unprompted and invasive. She knew, logically, that such an option wasn't even on the table- she had been raised better than that. Her father had always told her, and still told her, that such violence brought happiness to precisely no one. Most especially, herself. She remembered well, even before her size change, how she had bullied kids in grade school. She remembers the misery and pain inflicted on herself and others. Violence always begot violence. Were she to turn supervillain, her life would be miserable. 

Still, she thought, turning her eyes back down to the woman who was still trying her damnedest, some domination is fun.

"I forget, what round is it, Tessa?" She gasped mockingly. "Or have we started? I had no idea."

This time Tessa had blushed- out of embarrassment or... Something else, Brianna could not tell. 

Soon enough, the bell rang, indicating that Tessa's turn was over and done, like some death pell. 

Tessa collapsed on the mat, laying her arms out. Brianna stay up on her feet and looked down on her. 

"Well, sweety, you tried. Are you sure you don't want to surrender?" She smirked. "It might be less embarrassing than what's about to happen if you don't."

Tessa sat up, looking beadily at her would-be opponent. 

"I don't have to beat you to keep my points, yknow." She waved her hand and nodded. "Sure, maybe it wasn't such a great idea to challenge you in this, but come on... I'm a law student, not a scientist." She exhaled and looked up at Brianna defiantly. "All I have to do is outlast you."

Brianna smirked. 

"Fair point." She folded her arms across her chest with some effort. "But you're still gonna lose, I hope you know. Bow out now and it'll be at least graceful."

Tessa snorted. 

"Why, are you gonna make me suffer or something?"

Brianna flapped her head back and forth. 

"Well," she said chipperly, "not any more than usual." She laughed when she saw Tessa's face. "I'm joking, Tess. No, I don't want to make you suffer. I'm not a bitch, you know."

Tessa peered at her, weighing. 

"I'm still not surrendering."

"That's fine, I guess."

Tessa huffed and, to her credit, with much dignity walked over to the wall where she would be pinned, leaning up against it. She stood there with her arms crossed and indignantly peered at Brianna, who had simply watched and scooted over to where she needed to be, still kneeling. 

Finally, with both parties in position, the start bell clanged out and Brianna started to push softly.

The effect was not much like Tessa's clawing attempts to smother Brianna- with her size and weight uniformly covering Tessa and even her considerably sized I-cups.

The pressure began- Tessa, who was a bisexual (at least, so she claimed- her last few flings were guys), was all at once overwhelmed and enthralled by the sensation. The soft, plush flesh of Brianna's I cups enveloped her like a warm load of laundry, all at once comforting and warm and sensuous and glorious.

For a moment, all was peaceful- Tessa, given the choice and option, would have opted to stay there for a nice nap, her bed mates surrounding her like a blanket that was put in the dryer right before bed on a cold winter's night (if you haven't tried it, do it). 

And then the pressure began. 

It started barely perceptible- like a quiet riot in the distance. But then, surely but slowly, it crept up and up and up, until it passed from the realm of pressure to pushing, from pushing to pressing, from pressing to pain. 

She was faintly aware of Brianna's wicked smile plastered over her face- she dare not look up lest she lose heart, but even without looking she knew that the taunting was there. 

"Having fun yet," said her opponent as if on cue, rubbing salt into the wound. "I hope so, because I'm barely even trying. I'm just kind of... Leaning, you know?"

Tessa nodded, eager to smile herself- she would not go down without a fight. 

"Oh come on, that's nothing," Tessa replied through bared teeth, clearly being something. "I've had harder pushes when I sssshhiiit ow ow ow."

Upon the back talk Brianna kicked it into overdrive- being teased was one thing- insulted? Well. Not on her watch. 

She increased the pressure bit by bit, hoping that she'd surrender on her own, making her realize what a mistake she had made (as if her being a giant superhero and winning two other matches easily wasn't enough)- and it seemed to be working. Under the milky breasts and sweat-shine, Brianna could see her face reddening from strain, attempts to breath under all that weight. Tessa was easily two bucks in weight- that amount and oh so much more was present on her now with Brianna pushing.

Redder. More red still.

Tessa looked up at her with a pained yet determined look on her face, as if to almost beg her to not crush her- Brianna got that look occasionally from people she caught in her line of work, pinning them under her feet. 

One last push, and...

"I surrender!" Tessa blurted, gritting her pearly whites in succulent agony. "I forfeit the match!"

A bell rang and Brianna unlatched her legs to release her tiny opponent from her vice grip. Tessa collapsed to the floor almost immediately, prompting Brianna, betraying her earlier thoughts and true to her true nature of help, to pick her up and carry her to the game medics who now tended to follow Brianna around. 

In her arms, Tessa looked up at Brianna with dreamy, unbelieving eyes.

"Usually the girl buys me a drink before she rides me like that."

Booming laughter filled the stadium, a belly laugh from Brianna. 

"Well, I did fuck you pretty hard, didn't I? All for points. Maybe that's worth a drink or two."

*********************

Brittany was waiting in the spot where they had their initial showdown, still there, still bitter with her arms crossed in defiance. She had heard about Brianna's sweeping victories amongst not one, not two, but four girls in the short space of an hour. Enough time to climb the point ladder and become eligible for challenging the champion. As the giantess approached her, this time not even letting her bare feet stomp their way for effect, she couldn't help but feel... Something. She called out to her.

"Well, if it isn't Big Tit Bri. You actually did it." The voice was full of bravado and... Something else. Something anxious.

"I'm glad you did well against your opponents tonight, dear," she continued, continuing to crank her head up and up and up in order to continue staring into the eyes of a very tall Brianna. "It would have... It would have been boring to think that all my opponents were as weak as the others- m-maybe you'll give me a challenge in this match."

Brianna didn't respond. She simply had walked over to the spot where Brittany was, letting her size an weight do the work for her. Once arrived, she knelt down to become more eye to eye with her- and there, she noticed, what the 'something else, something anxious' was. 

Sweat beaded across Brittany's well-formed brow. Her eyes were dilated, her heart rate, detected by Brianna's enhanced hearing, raced wildly about her chest and threatened to burst out of her rib cage.

"Have you even moved from this spot?" Brianna asked offhandedly. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter."

She regarded her opponent for a second, looking her once over and up and down and all around. She was a formidable little thing, but petite. And, maybe this was just the alpha bitch in her, but pretty cute. 

Involuntarily, Brianna licked her full lips wetly, causing a sheen of moisture to cling onto her mouth. The effect was apparently disturbing, as Brittany backed away slightly, eliciting a chuckle from Brianna. 

"Hey, hey, I didn't mean to scare you..." She reached out with both hands, grabbing the tiny woman by the back of the head and lower back, her pinky just grazing the taut buttocks. "There's no need to be afraid..." She pulled her in, and, in a surprisingly soft gesture, maternally embraced the smaller woman, as a friend or... Or maybe even a lover... Might do so. 

There was an initially tensing, followed by the inevitable relaxation that came with hugging and being pressed against such monstrous breasts. But Brittany wasn't about to let herself be bewitched. Not so close to the 11th hour. Still, as hard as as steel as her resolve was, such was naught compared to what was about to happen. 

Still locked in the ambivalent embrace, Brianna tugged at the tiny woman and leaned her head down to be closer to her ear. Brittany felt the acrid, hot breath of this strongwoman and shuddered, barely able to move in the grip that now felt like ice.

"Hey Brittany," came the deafening whisper, "I'm only gonna ask you once. Forfeit now, or I will utterly eat you alive. In the next match."

Brianna, still grasping her by the shoulders, pushed Brittany away only slightly, still aligning her sight with her eyes. She fixed on her a wicked grin, barely pearly white but no less deadly teeth. Chompers.

"And," she continued, cocking an eyebrow, "I haven't decided yet if that's figurative or not. Who knows," she said, blowing air out her nose, "maybe I'll grow big, have you for a tasty snack; that would really make history in this games, wouldn't it?"

Fear washed over Brittany and gripped her with icy fingers around her heart and stomach. Every bit of her wanted to turn and run, get far away from this woman as humanly possible, dig deep underground and have mountains fall on you to hide from her. Anything. Anything. 

Her lip trembled, and Brianna burst out in a hearty belly laughter, shocking the girl into flinching. 

"Ha ha ha, oh Brittany, I'm only joking. I would never eat or hurt any of you guys, ever. I'm a good girl, remember?" She patted her on the shoulder and stood back up.

"But, Brittany," she began, saccharinely, "give up. Now. Or you are going down without a single hit on me." She bent over and blew her a kiss, blinking one eye at her sweetly. "And you know I could do it."

With that, like earlier that evening, Brianna about faced and headed to her corner of the mat, where a very displeased referee was standing to no doubt lecture her.

Brittany, however, just stood there. She felt like a deer in headlights, and, despite years of a rampant bitchiness that without a doubt provided rapid fire and confident decision making, she found herself at a loss.

The match's outcome seemed... Dubious, at best. Heck, doubtful. 

Was she that far gone? Even as her coach, a wizened older man who ran more like an engine than a human, took her to her corner and somewhere distantly was shouting either berating or encouragement or maybe even both but hey that was so far away why the fuck is everyone shouting fuck it's cold in here can't they turn up the goddamn thermostat in here. 

Lost. Lost.

Then, insight.

She looked down at her breasts. Lovingly crafted by God or nature. Maybe neither. All natural. These were hers. 

She thought about that, amongst all

The shouting. She was vaguely aware that the entirety of the arena had stopped and ceased and was now zeroing in to watch this historic match. 

All those people. All that fame.

Fame. That's what she started for, at least. That and the money. 

But mostly, she realized, she had done it for... Herself.

Her self-esteem. Puberty had been very kind to her all those years ago, that long and glorious final year of middle school that had caused her to balloon up in so many more ways than just age. The bitches on the cheer squad wouldn't have denied her after. She remembered, though. She remembered well. 

Ridicule. Shame. She used to think it so petty and dumb, but now... But now. 

How glorious and marvelous it felt to be on top with her P cups.

A force to be reckoned with.

Distantly, she heard a voice- the announcer, telling the world and angels and God above to hear hear behold the match of the century- Brittanyzilla versus Biggun Brianna, a mountainous mammoth mammary match that soon won't be forgotten. Deafening roar of crowds, suddenly coming to the front of thought and perception, becoming loud once again. 

 Indomitable, was she. She would not be defeated.

The bell rang, and she shoved forward.

She would not be beaten- no. She would win, win against this Titaness and prove to everyone that she was a winner, good enough for anything!

She reeled back, taking one breast on her hand and cocked it back- a fist destined to knock this giantess out!

And then she was hit by the train. 

For a second, she forgot what planet she was on. Lights flashed before her eyes and she didn't understand why the ground was so hard and present and ow. Her vision blurred, and she vaguely remembered getting up, but the only she found herself burning on the other cheek and on the ground once more. 

What, she half thought. Or maybe she had said it aloud. She didn't know. All she remembered was getting up again, keeping her hands under her breasts once again.

Slowly the image before her formed- a tall tall tall woman in sportswear with a bare midriff who was standing there with hers hands below her breasts and rocking on her tippy toes.  Good Christ, she was tall. 

"You okay?" Brianna asked with a smirk. "Old lady like you might not be able to keep up. I understand if you need to take a breather. Do we need to call old folks home?"

Brittany, at the ripe old age of 31, gave Brianna the finger. Which one, she didn't quite tell. At the time- she really didn't care. God, she was pissed.

So pissed off.

She got up and stumbled forward a couple of steps, her inner ears cranking out their reckonings best they could considering the trauma. Then, sufficiently oriented, Brittany advanced rather quickly, punch drunk already but coming in with a calculated breast jab aimed for Brianna's jaw. 

Brianna, seeing this, arced her back slightly and instead of utilizing the juicy opportunity to counter with a hook, simply held her fingers out and pushed Brittany away, enough to cause her to kilter off balance. 

Brittany stumbled back, enraged.

"Hit me," she cried out, putting her fists (not breasts) up to bear. "Why won't you hit me?"

"Because you know what will happen if I do," Brianna said, half smiling a sad bit. "So just forfeit, Brittany. No one would blame you. It's just not enough- I mean, look at you- yeah, you’ve got a hell of a rack- P cups, right?" Brianna let her guard down for a split second and cocked her head to the side, a crooked smile spreading her lips.

“About 60 pounds total. That’s,” she whistled, “a whole lot. But hey, look at these!”

She reached down and gripped one of her own I cups with a tight squeeze, filling her hand easily.

“These bad boys are only I cups, but they weight a lot more. 160 pounds!” she burst with a gleam in her eye.

Brittany wondered where this was going until Brianna grinned wickedly at her.

“Heck, just one of my breasts weighs way more than both of yours combined… I mean, you look like a flat chested pre-teen compared to me.”

A fuse snapped in Brittany’s head, severing the link between motor control and reason. Brianna lunged forward, preparing a haymaker with her right (breast? Fist? Who cares?). 

"Fuck you, you overgrown cunt!" She screamed, making even the hardiest in the room flinch.

She screamed and ran and prepared her strike, but even as she was sure that this was the one, that this hit would surely knock Brianna out, a hook in the form of an I cup hit her like five rugby players across the head, and for a split glorious second all the colors in the universe presented themselves in cacophonous agony and then all went black. 

*******************

The awards ceremony was simple, sincere. A presentation platform had been raised in the main hall of the arena, where another three tiered platform stood: one 8 inches off the ground, labeled 3, one 12 inches off, labeled 2, and of course, one 16 inches, labeled 1. Next to the platform, facing a sea of chairs and standing room, all of them filled to the brim with people, was a podium, where the patron of the event, a short balding man, stood sweatily speaking.

He each, in turn, announced the top three point earners of the entirety of the games- third, a fiery redhead with G cups- Colossal Cassie. Second, with reddened tissue stuffed in her nose (she slammed face first into the mat when she was knocked out), was Brittanyzilla, wearing a look that could sour milk, her arms folded in the quiet bewilderment of a deposed monarch. Lastly, one foot on the '1,' was Biggun Brianna (she was informed that the platform wouldn't hold her weight).

"We, on behalf of the Komen Foundation," piped the tiny man behind the podium, "are happy to present your champions for this years 'Best Breast Festival- third receiving special bras for life, second a cash prize of five thousand, and lastly, first receiving fifteen thousand dollars! Give them a round of applause!"

The crowd roared and went wild, all them clapping and clamoring and making a general ruckus. 

Brittany was able to peak a glance over at Brianna, who quietly waving her hand with a smile (no doubt one very often used in her line of work). She looked positively regal, on account of partly her size, but another on well... Just... Her affect, she supposed.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't. How could something like this happen?

She pondered that question, not without much rancor, while Brianna came down and accepted the trophy and a crown. The trophy, by the by, was a set of two perky and very large breasts, and was something Brianna could hold in two fingers.

Two fingers. She fucking would, wouldn't she.

The ceremony, thank god, was over shortly after- all were dismissed and the participants, along with the audience, started to pack in and go home, only a few lingering or staying to get a picture with the champions. 

Brittany was, at the very least, grateful to have a few of her own fans stop by and commiserate with her. However, such gratitude was overshadowed by the larger number of people hovering around Brianna now. One by one they filed out, leaving just the two of them- even Brittany's coach, with a weak smile, had left her. 

Finally, Brianna began to make her way out to the parking lot- a cold night's chill had settled over the city, and overcast clouds, still visible in the palemoon, glowed with an eerie feel.

"It's not fair," Brittany declared solemnly to both Brianna (who had her back turned) and to herself. "It's not fair at all, you asshole."

Brianna stopped, hesitant to respond.  After a second, she did so, and offered a patient smile. 

"Yeah, it is," she agreed. She scratched her head absently, suspecting that she might the sentiment more had she not won by a landslide. "It is pretty unfair. But that's... That's just kind of life, you know? Unfairness and coping. Anyhow, I'm sorry about tonight. It must have stung."

Brittany's lip trembled. How indignant was she- first this bitch had stomped her into the ground, and now... She was consoling her.

Fuck that noise. 

"You bet it did."

Brianna chuckled and waved. 

"Yeah. Well. Again, I'm sorry. Have a good night, Brittany."

"You think you're so fucking special, don't you? You, you, you think that just because you're big and strong and have huge breasts that you think you just own the world, you own people like me. Well, you know what, fuck you, you overgrown cunt. It's not fair. A bitch like you doesn't know shit about hard work- you just got big and that was that. No training, no coaching... Nothing. People like you, assholes who coast in the drifts of someone else, make me sick. Fuck you... You... You..."

She began to stammer when the moon suddenly blacked out- she was, vaguely, aware of a stretching noise and low tremor as the ground beneath her shook, and she had the out of place feeling that she was getting smaller. 

No, no, that... Wasn't quite right. Brianna was getting bigger.

It was only too late then when she felt herself being picked up by a swooping hand and rushed high up- her stomach lurched and she thought she was going to be sick.

"You know, Brittany," a thunderous voice clapped, "you're right. Life isn't fair. At all, especially to weak little bugs like yourself."

The billboard face of Brianna, all it's prettiness only enhanced by size and the moonlight, peered down annoyed at Brittany, who now was only as tall (comparatively) as Brianna's long finger. She nearly shook with fear. 

"It's not fair when you lose. It's not fair when someone is bigger or better than you."

She huffed.

"You think I didn't feel like life was fair when I realized I'd never be a normal girl ever again? Trade in my medical aspirations for being a building-sized pin up gal who picks up after everyone, and is sexualized by only every single horndog guy in the city? Drawn nude by freaks on the Internet?"

She shook her head. 

"I hate bullies, Brittany. I hate them. I wish I could squish them all under my feet. They make life unfair for people they torment."

She closed her fingers around her tiny passenger, who let out a terrified yelp. 

"Nonono, please don't-"

"That's what i saw in you, Brittany. A bully. I saw it last year and the year before that. That's why i entered the Best Breast Festival, so I could give you a taste of your own medicine." 

She smiled and chuckled at her, who was still clearly not amused.

"What did I say earlier? 'So flat little bitches could know their place.' God, what a dork I am."  

Despite herself, Brianna kept on smiling. 

"But really, to tell the truth..." She looked up and grinned, mischievously, "I kinda liked it. It was fun, dominating you so completely. That and the other girls too. But mostly... You. It felt pretty great."

She bit her lip and looked down at the tiny woman, who was now crying and gripping her fingers on heir captor's own. She licked her full pink lips, and a bit of spittle flew off and hit Brittany in the face.

"But it's nothing compared to the domination you're going to feel soon. Oh don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you or eat you like I said, but..." 

She poked her tongue out and flicked Brittany in the face softly, almost lovingly. 

"There's more than one way to get you to call me goddess..."