TEN!
NINE!
EIGHT!
SEVEN!
SIX!
FIVE!
FOUR!
THREE!
TWO!
A cacophony of sound thoroughly drowned out the countdown's finale. Explosions lit up the sky, lending the city an otherworldly feel as the hundreds gathered cheered the once-in-a-year moment.
But not all in the city had the luxury of partaking in the festivities. Tucked away into the shadows of a nearby alleyway sat a small young man. Several thick layers of clothing were bundled atop the petite figure, making him look almost cartoonish as a rather small head was the only thing sticking out of the top. Brightly lit buildings at all hours of the night made it difficult to sleep, but not impossible. Explosions and the light the fireworks emitted were testing him, though. For the well-off it was a night to celebrate, and be excited for new beginnings. A time to throw away all of their burdens and try to make a better life for themselves.
For him it was just another night. Well, no. That wasn't entirely true. For him it was a considerably more irritating night than any other. One where the entire world seemed to go out of his way to prevent him from doing what he'd spent the past year doing. Part of him wanted to join the festivities, but there was nothing for him there. There was no free food and drink that someone like him could partake in to slake his hunger.
He would never be accepted in with them anyway. They attended celebrations like this to forget that people like him existed. His presence would draw the same reaction it always did. Stares. Long, awkward, unbroken stares. Quiet whispers from just out of earshot wondering what his problem was. Most couldn't quite put their finger on why he looked so unusual. None had ever seen a man who only just broke four feet tall but was still normally proportioned.
His time in that world was over, and he wanted to live the rest of his days in peace. Unfortunately that meant living off the grid, and he wasn't exactly built for surviving the open wilderness. So here he was, wandering the streets as a vagrant, trying to get some sleep while waves of noise seemed intent on burying him.
There was nothing he could do but try to go back to sleep. Inhaling deeply, he pulled the hood of his outermost jacket over his head, and closed his eyes. Seeing no other way around it, he began to count backwards from one-hundred, hoping to lull himself to sleep in the process.
Hey.
A voice rang out, clear as day in his head. He considered waking up properly, but wasn't certain if it was referring to him. Taking a calculated risk he inhaled deeply, and tried to get back to sleep. A crick had already formed in his neck, giving him a great deal of pain as he tried to lean back against the bricks and drift away into unconsciousness again. The festivities nearby seemed to have quieted down, returning the darkened alleyway to its familiar, and strangely comforting eeriness.
Wake up.
Gripped with panic, he awoke suddenly, and twisted his head in the direction of the voice. In his experience a voice waking him up was, more often than not, unrelated to him. A second voice, though, required investigation. Not in the city appreciated the homeless population trying to turn their alleyways into places of rest, and on multiple occasions in the past he'd been forced to outrun a disgruntled landlord. His heart thumped in his chest as his blurry vision slowly focused on a large pair of shapely legs in front of him.
I know who you are.
His body exploded into action. In the blink of an eye he had shakily climbed to hi feet and was preparing to run. Had the pair of legs belonged to an ordinary citygoer, or even law enforcement he'd have likely escaped. Unfortunately, this woman seemed to expect his resistance, and grabbed him by the hood just as quickly. The sudden resistance brought the front of the outermost layer of clothing up around his throat, and forced him back.
He thought the powerful woman was going to throw him to the ground. Or maybe slam him against a wall. Maybe she was even here to abduct him. No one would ever notice he was gone. It would have been extremely easy.
Instead, he found himself sinking backwards into something soft, and warm. An intoxicatingly sweet aroma filled his nostrils. His psyche was torn between two extremes as his body began to naturally relax from the pillowy warmth engulfing him, but his mind screamed at him to escape.
With little more than a flick of the wrist the woman had pulled her victim backwards and squeezed his tiny frame against her enormous form. They would both turn eyes for their size, though they stood at completely opposite sides of the spectrum. She was an absolute giant of a woman, standing at well over eight feet tall. Every part of her body completely dwarfed that of the miniature man she had in her grasp. Even crouched as she currently was, the small figure had easily sunk deep into into her soft belly, while the heavy shelf of her breasts only applied painful pressure to the crick in his neck.
I hear you've been causing an awful lot of trouble since you escaped.
She spoke slowly, sweetly. The words dripped from her mouth like an overturned bottle of syrup. He renewed his struggles, but they amounted to little more than a slight shifting of her flesh. Tears of frustration were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes as the futility of his efforts began to take hold.
You remember what happens to the escapees, dont you?
He certainly did. Every incident was documented thoroughly and he, along with everyone else in that horrible place, had been forced to look at it. To be reminded that they were to never leave. Tears were flowing freely now as tried to nod his head, but found he couldn't with her hefty breasts forcing his head into an awkward position.
Two enormous hands reached for his front, and tore open the outermost jacket he was wearing. He felt the slight drop in temperature and shivered, while her hands reached for the second layer of clothing and ripped it open as well. She didn't bother checking any of the pockets. She knew he had nothing.
Oversized fingers shred through his clothing with contemptuous ease. She was like an oversized toddler, eager to unwrap a large gift on Christmas morning. Her already wide grin turned positively demented once the task was complete, and her prize was revealed. He was small, pale, and almost sickly-thin. Though still pressed against her immense body, it did little to mitigate the effect the cold, wintry night air had on him.
She leaned back slightly, so she could take in the feeble sight shivering before her. Her lips turned up into a mischievous smile, and ran her fingers up and down his bare chest. Shivering, he began to lean into the aggressive, groping fingers as the only source of warmth he had left.
So, She whispered, running a finger along the faint outline of his ribcage. Are you ready? She asked, moving in so close her full lips pressed against his ear.
He didn't answer. He didn't need to. Her lips parted. A thick tongue snaked out from between them, wiggling in the cold air. It glistened in the moonlight, and quickly attached itself to the side of his face. Tear streaks vanished instantly, replaced by a thick, sweetly scented trails of saliva all over the side of his face. Her tongue retreated noisily, unsubtly. A quiet moan purred from her throat as she drank in his terror, both figuratively and literally.
Then she pushed him.
She could have put enough force behind it to send him flying down the alleyway uncontrollably. But she held back, just to toy with him. Given the incredible difference in size between the two of them he received her gentle shove as a powerful, launching blow. His small legs failed to maintain the momentum forced upon him, and he quickly fell onto the cold concrete.
Though it felt like dozens of minuscule, icy daggers were poking into his bare flesh, he felt somewhat okay otherwise.
That was not to last. He rolled onto his back in an effort to ease the pain. One shaky wheeze was all he before when it was forced from his lungs all at once. A crushing weight had fallen onto him from the abdomen all the way to knees.
She had taken a seat on him.
In his short life he'd never broken a bone. Much less about a dozen all at once. A sound he didn't think he was capable of making exploded from his mouth for about half a second, before she slapped a hand over his mouth to silence. He winced again from her silencing him, trying his best to maintain his composure as a wide grin began forming on her full lips.
Be quiet. She whispered, twisting her body from side to side to get comfortable on top of him. Cracked shards of bones scraped against each other inside of his body, and the man's head began to contort itself agony. His pained wails failed to escape her fingers, however.
Most boys would give anything to be in this position with me, you know. She taunted while cradling his small skull in her fingers. So why not enjoy yourself?
With that, she let go of his head, confirming he no longer had it in him to scream, and grabbed hold of the two scrawny limbs hanging from her target's torso. His arms, like the rest of his upper body, were thin, and she had no trouble wrapping her fingers around both with just one of her own hands. He, of course, offered his meager resistance, but he might as well not have even bothered for all it accomplished.
His lips quivered, but she wasn't quite sure if this was due to shock, or simply from being so exposed to the elements. Quickly realizing she didn't exactly care, she grabbed hold of a wrist in each hand and pressed them into the soft, rounded orbs atop her chest.
His tiny fingers sank deep into the mighty expanse of her bosom. He whimpered, and tried to pull away, as if the yielding flesh were some sort of divine object he must never lay hands on. She noted his hesitance and how his skin was turning a soft shade of pink in embarrassment. He must have never laid hands on a woman in his short life. Must have assumed it would never happen to a person like him. He probably would have given anything to be able to enjoy this moment more, but with a crushed pelvis all he could do was quiver ineffectively.
Feeling a bit of warmth in her own loins at his obvious discomfort, she began to lean forward. More and more of her flesh poured into his cupped hands, overflowing them quickly and spilling out the sides. The subtle lean came with more grinding of his shattered lower body, and a sharp squeal of pain.
It's a shame. If you weren't an escapee things could be different. But all escaped patients must be terminated. She whispered, playfully mauling her breasts with his hands.
His blood turned to ice, and he was suddenly brought back to the reality of his situation. The sudden shift in mood was all-too-visible for her, and her hands tightened around his wrists like a vice. He opened his mouth to voice an objection, but a muted, meaty crunch reverberated from inside of her fingers before he could form the words. Panic set in as he tried to free his wrists, but any movement sent bolts of pain up his arm and through his entire body.
She let him have a minute to squirm beneath her. She'd spent the time finding him, after all. She was perfectly entitled to doing with him as she pleased. And when his body got too used to the pain, she was more than happy to reignite it with a squeeze of his ruined wrists. This continued for several minutes longer, until even a squeeze of her fist amounted to little more than a pained groan beneath her.
Had enough? She asked, releasing his grotesque, purple wrists so they fell uselessly on the concrete.
He didn't answer.
Fine. I'll let you go, under one condition. She explained, stretching her legs forward and placing a booted foot near his quietly weeping face. Kiss my foot. She ordered.
He hesitated. Not because of the command, but because of the sheer amount of effort and pain he would have to endure just to move. He couldn't feel anything below his waist, and both of his hands were useless. And for the terrible cherry on top he still had the damnable crick in his neck.
But she had given him no other option. He didn't think any of the others had been offered a chance at survival, so he had to take it. Steeling his nerves as best he could, he turned his had to the side, squeaking softly as he did so. Taking a few more seconds to recover from the slight movement, he pursed his lips, and pressed them into the soft leather of the boot.
No.
His heart sank.
My foot. Not my shoe. She said, leaning forward and crushing more of his pelvis as all of her incredible weight shifted forward at once. It took a bit of effort on her part, but a few seconds later she managed to pop a bare foot free from the boot. She sighed in relief, and wiggled her hot toes in the cold, refreshing air.
Now. She commanded, pressing her warm, sweaty foot into his face. Her thick toes immediately set to work playing with his hair, while her huge sole pressed gently into his face. There wasn't a thing he could do to stop her, but just to make sure she placed her other, still-booted foot on the side of his head to keep it in position.
Without thinking he again took a deep breath to prepare himself for what needed to be done. The situation had changed, though, and all the air he filled his lungs with was filtered through the toes of a foot much bigger than his own head. Unlike the air he'd been breathing all night, this was warm, humid, and almost felt heavy in his chest.
Five times.
Another deep breath. Another mouthful of that heavy, foot-tainted oxygen. Another painful rattle through his lungs. He looked at the huge sole presented to him, and thought he could make out a few sparkling droplets of sweat on its surface. Thoughts of what a foot that big could do to him filled his mind, but he pushed past them, and moved his head forward.
One.
He tasted her salty sweat on his lips, and felt his nose pres into her sole. To his great surprise it actually sank in a little bit, and he had to resist the urge to bury his entire face in the pillowy flesh.
Two.
Her toes started to drum over the top of his skull, and he could see the subtle movements through the sole of her foot in front of him.
Three.
He licked his lips out of habit, and filled his entire mouth with her sweat.
Four.
He had been trying to resist this entire time, but found he could no longer hold his breath. Another deep inhale filled his entire being with her essence, and he became much more acutely aware of how nice her rear end felt on top of him.
Five!
Her foot moved away, quickly, and he thanked every deity he could think of that he had done as he was told. The booted foot stepped off the side of his face, reliving at least one source of pain. He closed his eyes, and waited for the weight on his body to be relieved.
Instead, he felt her warm sole press into the side of his face.
In an instant his head was pressed into the cold concrete. He instinctively moved his hands up to remove the foot, but was swiftly reminded of what she'd done to them only a few minutes prior. The pressure increased to an incredible degree quickly, and the weight forced his jaws to separate and his mouth to open. It felt like a car was being driven over his head slowly, and it absolutely refused to relent.
The first pop was felt, more than he had heard it. He tried to scream, but his ruined jaw meant his teeth and tongue were suddenly being crushed into the concrete. They cracked and broke apart near-instantly as well, permanently destroying any chance he had of voicing his pain.
She was just standing up, and decided that his head would be a good place to place her foot. After all, she didn't want to step onto the freezing cold streets barefoot. That would be uncomfortable.
So her toes pressed into the side of his head and forced him down. Standing in this position was awkward, but she managed it, even if it meant pressing his head into the ground in the process. She wasn't quite sure what parts of his skull were being crushed as she stood. To her it was only a seemingly never ending series of quiet pops and crunches as she settled more of her weight down. It felt like she was walking on a sheet of bubble wrap, and her toes wiggled in delight at the familiar sensations.
He could feel his grip on life fading. His jaw had been dislocated, and he was sure his nose had practically detonated on contact with the concrete. It didn't look like she intended to keep her word, of letting him go. He knew what was coming up next. He'd seen what happened to the others.
He could feel his skull cracking. Though his nose was ruined and most of his face was pressed into the ground, he managed a final act. He took a final breath. A final rush of warm, scented air filled his lungs. Almost seemed to coat them, and comforted him.
Then, it all went black.
She chuckled, and lifted her foot up. He wasn't moving anymore, and his face had been horribly distended by his method of execution, She carefully raised her bare foot up to a knee, and looked over her smooth sole for a moment. The entire thing looked almost angry, as it glistened with slick red-and-pink viscera. She felt quite the opposite, though, and pressed a finger into her sole to swirl the red streaks around playfully. She had accomplished what she set out to do, and had some fun too. A win/win in her book.
Looking back down at the unmoving body, she quickly slammed the heel of her bare foot into his skull again. Another crack, much louder than the others could be heard, and a mess of pink shot out from the shadow of her foot. It was always better to be thorough, she thought.
Exhaling softly, she hobbled over to where she'd taken off her boot, and slipped it back on. Her toes were still slicked with blood, but she would have someone else fix that later. For now she quietly pulled a small camera out of her jacket, and took a picture of the mutilated corpse in the alleyway.
A bright flash, and a second later she'd saved the image. The camera was put away, and she withdrew a pen and notepad this time. She leaned against the brick walls of the alleyway and flipped through the pages for a moment, before stopping suddenly.
There was an entry labeled, Experiment 2016 on this page. Popping the pen's cap off with her teeth, she added the word, Concluded next to it. The book was closed, the pen had its cap replaced, and she stuffed both away back into her pocket.
Maybe there were still some people celebrating nearby, she thought to herself. She needed a way to celebrate 2016's end.
Giantess World
