Lucas tried to relax as he scrubbed himself clean under the steady stream of lukewarm water flowing over his head and over his whole body, after he had drunk his fill, that is; he was patched after two days in the bush and way past caring if the bath’s water was treated. He was using a small piece of soap Melina had provided for him by grabbing a triangular parcel of a shelf that had to weigh as much of three grown men and which turned out to be a soap bar. She tore the wrapping to pieces and casually sliced a piece of the rock-hard substance off with her fingernails and delivered it to his hands.
The ease with which Melina handled the tougher than denim wrapping material, and the soap-piece cutting part was chilling. He was sure the giant, 100-tonne plus woman was strong enough to reduce him to mincemeat in seconds with just her fingernails if she so chose. But that was not the most worrying detail of that scene. He had a good look at the red and white wrapping and it was covered with letters.
Letters of an utterly, unreservedly, gibberishly unreadable script unlike anything he had ever seen. He was sure it was not Latin letters, nor Cyrillic or Greek, Chinese characters, Arabic, Korean hangul, runes, DevaNagari or Egyptian hieroglyphs for that matter. That was the last confirmation his already thin hopes of being anywhere close to Brazil needed to be downright dashed.
Literally, he had no idea where on Earth or, lets be honest, where in the Universe he was (if indeed he was in the same universe at all where he was born, all bets were off). He had not been shrunk, the people had not become gigantic. Lucas had been displaced… to a completely alien, unknown land, with almost certainly no hope of going back to where he started, especially with no idea where the way to there was, no plane and no ability to ever steal and commandeer one, if they even existed here. His life as he knew it was over. The implications were as massive as the giant beings that he could hear with booming, thunder like voices around him as Melina got to some kind of town after a few minutes of walking on the beach. From the little he could see as the cloth he was under flapped around, allowing him some fleeting views of cobbled streets, what had to be men’s voices around him were specially terrifying in volume and deepness.
He realized Melina had been speaking to him purposefully softly, when she interacted with the people around her after she got to a kind of hotel. Her sweet voice at what was undoubtedly her normal speaking volume was also very loud, almost deafeningly so, and he had to cover his ears as she spoke with the receptionist, another young woman, which laughed in a stentorian volume heartily at something Melina had said, making not only his ears hurt but even his ribs thrummed with the cadences of the giant woman’s laughter.
After Melina finally got to her own room, she had plucked Lucas out of his hiding place and he briefly could look around to see they were in a bathroom, shower and all, but with no toilet in sight. There was also a deep green porcelain sink where she was carefully lowered. Then she gave him the slice of soap, turned the warm water faucet on and left him to wash himself in private, even having the tact of closing the door after she left with a last tender look at him, with a gesture that seemed to implicate she would be back soon.
The curved walls of the sink were too steep and smooth to climb over, and so slick that after he removed his clothes they failed to stay out of is way under the column of water falling from above. He tried to set them aside to bathe first and wash them later, to no avail. They kept sliding down to pool at his feet, so he just left them there and washed himself. Afterwards, he washed them and rinsed them with the same soap as well as he could. His boots would need a more thorough washing than possible here, he thought, so he just rinsed them to rid them of the smell of ammonia. No hurry to wash them, as he was not going to wear boots while naked, as he would be until his clothes were dry, anyway.
As he dedicated himself to these menial tasks, he had plenty of time to review his current situation and his options. He was completely at Melina’s mercy. He could not get out of the sink, he could not even close the faucet. even If he could get off the sink, there was likely no way to get to the floor, and even in this lower gravity environment, the fall to the hard-tiled floor would at least leave him hurt or crippled or even dead. Lucas judged he was about 10 meters high in the sink. He could only wait for her to be back to pick him up. And when she did, it was likely she would put him on a tabletop, as having him on the floor would be inconvenient for her and potentially deadly for him. She could inadvertently kick or step on him, killing him.
His walking days were mostly over, he thought: even less need for boots if he was going to be carried to every place he needed to be, even from one tabletop to the other. Every time he had to relieve himself he would have to ask Melina to carry him to an appropriate place; every time he wanted to eat, he would depend on Melina, and so on.
Even if he reached the ground and escaped, where would he go? He did not want to end up in the clutches of another giant who would at best peddle him around as a circus freak (Melina could still be planning to do just that, though, he had no way to know), charging people for seeing him, or, at worst, step on him. At least these giant people did not seem to be cannibals or ogre-like cruel; also, from the brief look he had of Melina’s pudenda, it looked as their anatomy was remarkably the same as humans.
If in his hypothetical flight, he somehow managed to avoid ‘human’ detection, any rat, cat, dog, or whatever domestic animals these giant people kept could decide he would be a tasty snack, as could birds of prey, snakes, lizards and who knew what else.
Lucas felt so puny that he was sure even a pissed-on pigeon or even a baby chick could break his spine from a wing blow, stomp him or peck him to death without trying too hard, and he had left his machete back in the tussock. Even if he could steer clear of most creatures, his life would be of perpetual hiding, living off scraps of food or garbage he could pilfer from around town, until he was finally caught or got sick or injured.
So, he was screwed and stuck as a giant woman’s pet. For how could she see him as anything but a curiosity, like a talking hamster she would eventually tire of? And they could not even speak the same language, at least for now. Although… he had noticed, or thought he noticed, as he was put in the hem of her skirt, that he could perceive a faint aroma of womanly arousal wafting from below him, but that could be wishful thinking or simply the way all women smelled all the time if you were close enough, or small enough to notice. He was both afraid of and eager to get a better look at those legs and what lay between them…. and other parts. Would she even feel him if he let him touch her intimately? And… could he stop her if she tried to force herself on him? The answer was: of course not.
His mind wandered back at the person in whose hands his destiny was, from now on: The lovely Melina, for lovely she was. Until he saw her with other people her size he had no way to know, but he had the impression she was proportionately tall. He found himself thinking of what he had seen of her body: the smooth legs, the slender hands, her enthralling face and of course, her pussy. He had seen, however briefly, her slit and the entrance to her sex, and shuddered as he now imagined the size the cocks of the giant males of this world would have to be to fit her and please her; he did not know what was going to become of him, but he was only sure of two things right now. One: Lucas was sure he was both shorter and thinner (and much less sturdy) than a simple, average prick of an average man of this world; two: he hoped he would NEVER have to see such a monster cock either at rest or at work and not at a distance and NEVER up close. Looking at his own now limp manhood, he thought ruefully that was like a grain of rice for Melina even when he was at full mast; he had always secretly prided himself of being well endowed, a meaningless pride right now. She seemed to like it, though…
In fact, since she discovered him, or at least since he was awake, Melina had only treated him with the utmost care and consideration. She even lowered her voice when she spoke to him, as he had discovered. She was incredibly careful when grabbing him in her hands, something he was quite scared of. And then she carried him safely to her abode. He was not surprised to feel himself hardening at the memory of being held by Melina’s skirt waistband against the warm, fragrant skin of her soft, hip, feeling her muscles ripple under her skin and the jiggles of her ass transmitting to him rather enticingly. He thought the way little beads of sweat had formed on her upper lip when she was trying to pick him up with evident care and nervousness were very cute. He even indulged himself to run his hands over what he could reach of her skin. He had not seen her breasts yet and definitely wanted to take a closer look at those….
It was then that the loud knocking sounds on the bath door almost gave him a heart attack. He was doubly startled because he was feeling rather guilty about having dirty thoughts about her captress or rather her rescuer. After a brief pause, the door opened, and Melina strode in slowly… which gave him time to cover himself with his hands. He realized that unless he was willing (and he wasn’t) to wear wet clothes, he had nothing to wear, not even underwear.
But the solicitous Melina had thought of everything. She turned the faucet off and handed him what seemed to be a piece of cloth that seemed to be cut rather hastily from a larger piece, like a handkerchief, for a makeshift towel. She politely and rather demurely turned her back at him to give him some privacy to dry himself off, only giving some sly but brief glances over her shoulder to check he was finished. Lucas obstinate hard-on refused to leave, even though from his point of view from within the sink he could only see her back, her long hair going well past her shoulders. He had always had a rather odd fixation with women’s shoulders and Melina’s were particularly attractive. The way she looked over her shoulders was also very sexy, he thought. He waved at her the next time she looked his way.
She turned, gave him another piece of dry cloth so he could wrap himself as with a makeshift toga and took the wet towel, garments and boots away, turning her back on Lucas to spread them over the same shelf she had taken the soap from and give him time to dress himself as well as he could. He found he had to hunch his shoulders a little to avoid his stiffy to show over the cloth, which was much thinner than the one he used as towel.
When she faced him again, he was a little startled to see her hand descending to pick him up, this time rather more confidently. She covered him with her other hand and carried him out of the bathroom. Soon she had left him atop a table and then left for the bathroom, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the corners. He took in his surroundings. He was in a room larger than a cathedral, with a high, white and smooth ceiling. He could see a wide, well-made bed, with white bed covers and way too many beige cushions on top; a nightstand was beside it, with an odd-looking lamp. There was a small red sofa, and a chair of a dark wood like the table he was on top of. A light purple duffel bag, probably Melina’s travel bag, was on top of the sofa. Besides that, there was also a small closet and a white box beside it, and what appeared to be a dust bin. No TV, no radio nor other appliances that he could see. On the table, there were some cups and a beige dish as wide as he was tall with a few head-sized orange berries, dark, soft, very well smelling cookies and ground meat. There was also a cap of a bottle filled with about two liters of a kind of chocolate-colored wine. He fell on the food as a ravenous man just rescued out of a wilderness, which he actually was.
After he was satiated, he took a last sip at the wine, which he was sure was not made of grapes, and he looked at the bathroom door Melina had disappeared behind, listening to what had to be the sound of the shower. Besides that door, there was another large one which had to be the room’s entrance and there was another door, now closed, leading to another room, and some windows with the blinds down around the room. The bathroom door was NOT closed. If he was the same size as Melina, he would have taken that as an invitation to peek and join her in the shower. But stuck as he was atop the table, that was not an option, he mused as he walked around the table, taking cautious looks from the table’s edge at the green tiles with some red rugs scattered here and there. The colors of the furniture and furnishings were a little garish for his taste, like pictures he had seen of the seventies back in Brazil.
A while later, he was sitting on the table’s edge facing the bathroom’s door and then Melina came out of the bathroom wearing only a red towel. A very.short.towel.